Chapter 7
Dana walked onto the little bridge of the Runabout. The cold was almost gone, though she still shivered occasionally and kept the towel wrapped. She looked at the screen - showing the whirling mass of the badlands - a moment, before she activated the intercom and said, "I guess everybody would like to know how I managed to survive. First I'd like to ask you to keep what I'm going to say a secret. I'm entrusting you with my life."
A few signs and murmurs of consent came from the bridge and the intercom. "All right, then, I was born on February 23, 1964," Dana said, and waited until the gasps of shock and surprise passed. "For thirty-eight years I seemed mortal in every way. I aged, I healed only slowly and as far as I knew, I would die, but then I did just that - I died. I just didn't stay dead. From that moment on I haven't aged a day, my wounds healed extraordinarily fast, and as long as my head stays attached to my body, I can not die."
"Well, I guess now I know why you're in command of this mission," Admiral Ventura said.
"And why I carry a sword, which I would like returned. And replicate a sheath while you're at it, one that allows me to wear the sword on my back," Dana said, looking at the Admiral.
"I'll be back in a minute," he answered and left to the back of the small ship.
"That leaves only one thing people," she said, making sure the intercom was still on. "Do we go home, or attempt to finish the mission? Anyone in favor of finishing the mission raise your voice." The intercom blurred with loud voices, each voice said something along the line of 'Yeah, let's do it.'
She turned off the intercom, then put her right arm on Hans' shoulder and said, "Well, Ensign, I'm going to need the quickest route from here back to Cardassian space, but I don't want to end up anywhere close to the remnants of that Wormhole. It'll be crawling with ships there by now, trying to find out what happened."
"And, I take it, preferably somewhere close to one of their relay stations, since that would be the only way to spread the virus, right?" Hans answered, tapping in the course he had already calculated on before hand, than look up at her, giving her a smile.
She smiled back at him and said, "That's good, Ensign. You're starting to know me, and the better we know each other, the more we can do without saying anything. And the more we can do without saying anything, the more we can do within the same amount of time.
"Commander, I think you still have something that belongs to me," Dana continued, after giving Ensign Papen a gentle tap on the shoulder, which prompted him to throw the Runabout into acceleration and into the course change.
Commander Makai fuddled in his uniform jacket and presented the isolinear rod with the viruses to her. At that time Admiral chose to reenter the bridge of the Runabout and presented Dana with her sheathed sword. She took it and removed it from the sheath for a moment, hefting it, feeling the power of it as it seemingly merged with her hand. She looked at the gleaming blade for a few seconds, before re-sheathing it. She pulled the band, attached to the sheath, over her head and around her torso, fitting the sheath holding her katana on her back. The movement caused the towel around her head to untangle a little and Dana decided to remove the towel. She gave it to Makai and said, "Could you bring it back?"
"Sure," he said, grabbing the towel.
"So," Hans asked, feeling a bit bold, "if you're four hundred years old, did you know James T. Kirk?"
"And then some, Ensign, and then some. I know a few people who are the greatest enigmas, myths, legends and mysteries in Human history . . . but yes, I did know Captain James Tiberius Kirk."
~~X~~
2293
Khitomer
Kirk exchanged a few pleasantries with some of the ambassadors. Mostly they thanked for his in the nick of time interference and saving the conference. Kirk hated it; it was just his job. It wasn't as if he was doing something no one else could have done; he had just been in the right place on the right time.
He looked around and saw something, or rather someone: a woman. She seemed familiar, and the way she moved intrigued him. It was enigmatic, mysterious. She walked away, moving outside his field of vision. The last thing he saw was a mysterious smile creeping up her face. Something clicked in his head. *It can't be,* he thought, *she's got to be a daughter, or a niece or something.* He wormed himself through the crowd, eventually reaching the young woman that had so intrigued him. He grabbed her arm to make her turn around. He looked stunned. Up close she was a dead ringer for the Admiral. Granted, her hair was far more immaculately done and they were now black, instead of the rich brown of old, but the face was exactly the same, still as eternal as back then. It could still be from a twenty-something woman or a woman in her forties, and the eyes were still filled with youth, yet old beyond recognition. These things he hadn't noticed forty years ago - he had simply been too young - but he saw them now.
"You are . . ." he started in shock.
" . . .still mirroring things back at you, Mr. Kirk? Always," Dana interrupted him, before he could say something that wasn't meant for every ear. "Don't remember my name, huh. It's Josie Taelman, remember? Ambassador, these days," Dana grinned at him. Dana leaned toward him and said in a tone just over a whisper, "Shall we take a walk through a more private place? A corridor perhaps, Mr. Kirk?"
Kirk nodded and followed her through a pair of doors and asked, "You really are Anna Drury?"
"Oh, yes. The Evil Mirror will never die," Dana added a soft, mocking evil laugh to it. "Don't look so surprised, Mr. Kirk. You don't actually think that a teacher doesn't know what names he or she is called, do you?"
"So, you are like Flint - immortal?" Kirk asked.
"Yes, I am, and there are many more like me," Dana answered Kirk.
"Do you know that if you stay away from Earth your Immortality ceases to function?" Kirk asked a bit concerned.
Dana laughed heartily and said, "I see you still haven't mastered my lesson completely, Captain."
"Call me, Jim," Kirk said pensively, and added, "I don't get it."
"Our Immortality is not dependent on Earth at all, Jim," Dana answered.
"But tricorder readings said . . ." Kirk started, but was interrupted.
"Yes, and sensors from your ship didn't show him at all, yet he was there," Dana told him. "And the fooling of the tricorders is something you should have been able to notice, Kirk. How can those tricorders see signs of aging if any signs of aging are immediately regenerated, as your doctor and Flint's confirmation said his body would? And if the tricorder was fooled in that respect, it could just as easily be fooled to show that his Immortality failed." Kirk looked a bit dumb. "On top of that, there are always the visible signs of aging."
"What do you mean?" Kirk asked a bit blown away.
"Think, Jim. Think aging . . . and think growth," Dana suggested.
"The nose and feet keep growing," Kirk answered with revelation.
"Which means that if he was 6200 years old and he would show signs of aging, he would have had a giant nose and giant feet," Dana said coolly. "Did he?"
"No," Kirk answered.
"You see, we don't age, we just don't do. If you'd cut us open and examined our organs, except for their size, they'd seem as if they're from a baby. I once thought we did age. You see, my reproductive cycle is about sixty years - as opposed to twenty-eight days with a mortal woman - so I thought we just aged a factor slower, but that isn't true. We just don't age," Dana explained.
"He wasn't 6200 years old either. He was about 3900, give or take a few decades, perhaps a century," Dana explained him.
"Really?" Kirk asked him.
"Yes, and again you could have known. When did he say he was born again?" Dana asked Kirk.
Kirk thought for a moment, trying to remember the exact number. "3834 BC," he finally said.
"Yes, and what year count did they use back then, hmm?" Dana asked Kirk.
"I don't know," Kirk answered seriously.
"I don't know either. What I can tell you is, that it was vastly different from ours, if they had a year count at all . . ." Dana was about to continue when Kirk interrupted.
"And it changed multiple times over the years . . . it would be virtually impossible to know the exact year in which he was born," Kirk said, shaking his head. "When someone gives too many, too accurate details, they're usually lying."
"Besides, no one of us cares that much about his age, especially those who are older than two and a half thousand. Back then they didn't even celebrate your birthday. When we talk about our age, we don't care about exact years. I'm about 330, give or take a few years. If I have to be exact . . ." Dana paused a moment, calculating, "I'm 329. Those who are above a thousand don't even talk about the years. They'll say, 'I'm about twelve hundred, give or take a few decades.'"
"So what more did he lie about?" Kirk asked.
"He wasn't Methuselah. That wasn't even a man, but an era. And if it was a man, he lived over twelve thousand years ago. He wasn't Alexander the Great. Alexander had a father and a mother as you know, and Flint's father and mother died more than a thousand years before Alexander's father and mother were even born. And he wasn't Leonardo DaVinci," Dana told Kirk.
"But Spock said that the paintings are authentic," Kirk protested.
"Is Spock an art expert? Can he see the difference between DaVinci's teacher and DaVinci's student as he later surpassed his teacher? It requires a highly trained eye to see the difference, and even then there are probably a few paintings out there considered to be DaVinci's when in fact they're his," Dana explained patiently. "By the way," she added, as she offered him her right hand, "we haven't been properly introduced. My name is Dana Scully."
Kirk took her hand, shook it, and said, "It seems we've completed a round; there's the conference room again."
"I would appreciate it if this stays a secret," Dana stated solemnly.
"My lips are sealed," Kirk said.
The doors opened and McCoy stepped through, quickly closing the doors behind him. He turned around and looked at them. Then grumbled, "Jim! Where the hell have you been? Those vultures were eating me alive in there. Not only did I get those who wanted to talk to me, but I got everybody asking me where James T. Kirk went . . . and who is this striking young lady?"
"Oh, you should know me, Leonard," Dana said grinning, then regretting it instantly. *Stupid,* she berated herself.
McCoy looked closely, than he gasped out, shocked, "Miranda Stiller."
Dana lost the regret immediately. She would have given everything for the look on his face right then and she told Kirk, a little conspiratorially, "I was one of his father's colleagues and later his father's friend. Leonard used to call me 'Auntie Miranda'." Kirk grinned, McCoy blushed, and Dana continued, gripping McCoy's nose and wiggled his nose while she talked, "I can still remember bouncing the cute little boy on my knee."
"Well, I'm still cute," McCoy said, after she had removed her hand. Kirk was still chuckling.
"That you are," Dana conceded.
"You've got to explain me this," McCoy said as he moved forward and held out his elbow.
She turned his way and hooked her arm behind his and said to Kirk, "Here we go again!"
"Yep," McCoy said, and starting waving Kirk towards the conference room. "And you ain't coming with us, Jim. Now it's your turn to smother in hell!"
*****
Three Months Later
The Enterprise
Enroute To Q'onos
"Ok, so why were we given this assignment? I thought this ship would be decommissioned; The Enterprise-B is just about to get launched," Kirk asked Dana.
"Because the Enterprise has a reputation, and so have you, Captain, as a great and honorable warrior. This ship and its crew were also instrumental in founding our peace - sending this ship is a sign that says, we'll stand by our agreement, all the way. And no Klingon that might not like the peace between the Klingons and us would dare attack a great and honorable warrior," Dana answered him without looking away from the screen. "It's a good thing you disobeyed that order and explored that star system, then took a final two-month long tour of the Federation, Jim, or this ship might already have been dismantled."
"Wouldn't a great and honorable warrior and the fact that this ship and crew helped forge the peace make this ship an even greater prize to destroy?" Kirk asked.
"I see you still need to learn a lot about Klingons, Kirk. Were we enemies you would be a prize, but we're allies now. And attacking an great and honorable warrior who's an ally would be considered dishonorable. If they'd actually do that, there's a big chance Klingons who haven't entirely made up their minds yet will turn to the side of peace," Dana answered, now looking down toward Kirk, who sat in his command chair.
"That's another reason why you and Ambassador Dax made sure the Enterprise was sent, correct?" Kirk asked her.
"Of course. Always use every opportunity to get as much good out of a bad situation," Dana answered, smiling crookedly at him.
"So what's this situation Ambassador Dax and we are going to have solve exactly? They haven't given me much information," Kirk asked a bit absentmindedly,
"Don't know exactly. The only thing I know is they specifically asked for Dax, and we can't leave the Klingons without an Ambassador in this early stage of our precarious peace," Dana answered him.
"Sair," Checkov said, "we're approaching the Klingon bordear."
"Helm, slow us down to impulse," Kirk ordered.
"Aye sir," the ensign at helm answered.
"I'm picking upp three Klingon Birds of Prey, sair," Checkov announced.
"Hail them, Uhura," Kirk ordered. Even though his first instinct told him to go to red alert, raise shields and fire weapons, he managed to suppress them, and he had to admit that the hand that fell on the back of his chair had steadied him. How could such a young woman have such an overwhelming presence? Kirk mused. An annoying self-correcting voice in his head told him, *That's because she only looks young. Remember, she's almost five and a half times older than you.*
"Kirk!" the Klingon captain yelled in a jovial tone, "I was looking forward to meeting you, although I had hoped it would be in battle. But alas, it's like your people say, 'You can't have everything.'"
"Some of our people also say, 'Shoot first, ask questions later,'" Kirk answered, reminding the Klingon that he could make this a battle easily.
The Klingon laughed a loudly and heartily laugh and said, "Just follow us, Kirk. I wouldn't want anything to happen to your soft, Human body." Once the verbal sparring was over the Klingon nodded at Dana and said, "Ambassador, it's good to see you again."
"Captain Klarok," Dana said, nodded her head to him giving him a feral grin, showing him his teeth. "It is a pleasure seeing you again. Our brief meeting on Khitomer was definitely too short."
"That it was," Klarok said, returning the feral grin. Then he made a gesture to cut the transmission.
"Follow the Klingons, Ensign," Kirk ordered. After the 'Aye, sir' he added to no one in particular, "I think that was the first time I saw a Klingon laugh, it was highly disconcerting."
Dana chuckled and told him, "You'll probably see a lot more Klingons laugh, Jim. They laugh a lot, actually."
"Then why have I never seen one laugh before?" Kirk asked skeptically.
"That's because almost all of the Klingons you've faced we're those surgically altered and weakened Klingons. They who had to look more Human in order to shock us when we finally met the normal, real Klingons in battle. Didn't work very well, did it?" Dana answered Kirk.
"But aren't these Klingons genetically enhanced," Kirk countered.
"You refer to your encounter with those few that had been stranded on that planet. That was the cover story of the Klingon empire. Those few thought the deception was dishonorable and that there should simply be an all out war, so they tried to start one. The thing is, most Klingons thought the same way, including those who were altered. That's why you didn't see them laugh," Dana explained.
"Feels strange flying into Klingon territory and not having to sneak around . . . And what was that all about? Have I got it right that you were flirting with him?" Kirk asked a little appalled.
"That would fall under classified," Dana said, grinning at him. "If you'll excuse me, I'll go to my quarters."
Dana stepped into the turbo-lift and ordered the computer, "Deck 4."
The ride was uneventful. She stepped out of the elevator, took a few steps and felt the tell-tale buzz of a nearby Immortal. She slowed her step and saw Duncan MacLeod - short cut hair - rounding a corner in a Starfleet uniform.
"Lieutenant Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod," Dana said, a little surprised. "When I saw your name on the crew manifest I thought it was some other Duncan MacLeod. I never thought I'd see you in a Starfleet uniform. What are you doing here?"
"Well, I had to try out one of these sooner or later," MacLeod said as he fell in step with her. "And this was the last chance for me, a living legend, to be on a legendary ship with a legendary crew and a living legend as a captain, and add to that you, another living legend, are here as well. I thought it was appropriate."
"I can still remember you raving on about that Starfleet and how the Federation would never work," Dana grinned at him.
"Well . . . I, uh . . . I guess I was wrong," Duncan conceded.
"Oh, historians of the galaxy, you should be here now!" Dana exclaimed, mocking him. "One of the greatest events in history just occurred; Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod admitted he was wrong about something!" She laughed.
"OK, I guess I deserved that," he admitted to her.
"So, you're going on a nice trip to a diplomatic crisis, huh?" Dana asked.
"Not exactly," MacLeod answered. "The standard crew of the ship was put back on it. The only way I could be on the Enterprise was to become one of your . . . attaches."
Dana looked him over. There was no sign of him being part of the operations or science crew, only a security sign. She blinked her eyes, then started to laugh hard and managed to choke out, "You are one of my bodyguards!?"
"Head bodyguard. Yes, I am," MacLeod admitted.
"Oh, this is rich!" Dana exclaimed as she started laughing again. "These three weeks are getting better and better all the time," Dana laughed out loud, a mischievous twinkle forming in her eyes. "Lieutenant Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod has to guard my body, obeying my orders, me, little old Josie Taelman, one time student of same Duncan MacLeod." She grinned at him, rubbing her hands together evilly, "Oooh, this is going to be so much fun!"
"Why do I have the feeling that I'm not going like the next three weeks?" Duncan asked her as they slowed down and stopped in front of her quarters.
"Because it will be my pleasure to make them your personal living hell," Dana grinned at him, a big goofy, but mischievous smile. She wiggled her eyebrows at him. "Well, Lieutenant MacLeod, your first order is to guard me, by guarding the entrance to my quarters."
"But that's ridiculous . . ." Duncan started, but he was interrupted by Dana.
"Are you disobeying my order, Lieutenant?" Dana asked him, unable to remove the grin from her face.
"Uh . . . no," Duncan answered.
"What?!" Dana asked, still grinning, in a tone of disapproval.
"No, ma'am," Duncan answered.
"That's good, I was starting to think I needed to get you expelled from Starfleet, Lieutenant," she said, barely keeping the stern tone in her voice. She laughed again.
"You little . . ." Duncan started, an angry and indignant look on his face.
"Uh, uh, uh, uh," Dana interrupted him, wiggling her right index finger mockingly at him. "You don't want to insult a Federation Ambassador, who for the next three weeks is going to be your superior, now do you?"
Duncan just fumed.
"I didn't think so. I'll see you in a few hours, Mac," Dana laughed again as she past through the doors to her quarters.
Duncan stood next to the door, thinking, *That little bitch!* For the next hour or so, nobody even dared to go near him while he wore that dangerous, angry look on his face.
*****
Q'onos
A Secluded Room
The Next Day
Metal clanged on metal as it echoed through the room. They had found it nicely secluded after about half an hour of searching. Pillars marked an inner square with an outer gangway around it. The room was mostly dark brown, with grey and black mixed through it. It was a rather nice room, perfect for sparring. Several entrances and exits lead in and out the room. MacLeod parried one of Dana's blows easily and let her move past him, a well-aimed hard swat with the flat of his sword to her ass followed. *Let's see if she's still so eager to make my life miserable after today,* he thought to himself. Dana was facing him already and he barely blocked her blow in time.
This went on for a while more, before she made a mistake. He kicked her, again in the ass, then kicked her feet from under her, which landed her square on her ass. "Auw!" she exclaimed.
MacLeod looked at his watch and said, as he watched her getting back up and rubbing her arse, "Two hours without a serious mistake, Josie. You're getting good. I need to start looking out for my head."
"And I still need to look out for my cute, aching, little tush," she said, pouting out the last few words in an overly cute voice, while rubbing that very same tush to alleviate the pain.
"It's definitely cute, although I would've use a different word to describe it," MacLeod joked.
"Oh, are we going on the sexist tour now?" Dana asked offended.
"As far as sexy, female asses are concerned, absolutely," MacLeod said grinning.
"You just wait. By the end of these three weeks, you'll be singing a different tune," Dana answered him, a little angry. Suddenly Dana caught something on one of her senses. She whipped her head around and looked at one of the entrances; the Klingon that had stood there watching disappeared quickly.
"What?" Mac asked.
"Somebody was watching," she answered.
MacLeod shrugged, and said, "A watcher perhaps."
"I don't think so, not unless they've already recruited Klingons," Dana told him.
"So, what's the big deal? A Klingon watched us spar. They like fights, you know. Perhaps he was just watching for the love of the art of battle," MacLeod tried to calm her.
"Then why did he disappear the moment I spotted him? I've been in contact with Klingons longer than you, Mac, and something tells me he's up to no good," Dana answered MacLeod with an uneasy tone to her voice.
"Did you get a good look at him?" MacLeod asked her.
"Not really. Come on, we've got to get ready for the welcome party anyway," Dana told MacLeod.
"That's still more than one and half hours away," MacLeod protested.
"Exactly," she answered.
"Women," he muttered.
*****
The party was as she expected it would be: loud, with lots of food - some of it still alive - even more Bloodwine, along with some less hardy stuff for the none Klingons. She hated speeches - not giving them, but listening to them. That was why she always kept hers short. Of course her mandatory advisor - when he noticed she hadn't written anything down - had written her a full twenty page speech and had made it clear that he didn't like her not preparing anything and that she better make sure she said everything. *He really doesn't understand Klingons,* she had thought at the time. Six speeches were planned: three Klingon - who each gave lengthy speeches - for Klingons that is; for Humans they were rather short - and three Federation people. The first two had given really lengthy speeches which seemed to impress the Federation personal, but only annoyed the Klingons. She was last and the third of the Federation. She made a show of looking thoughtful, as she walked to the stand, nodding to herself as she scanned through the pages on her PADD, pushing the 'next page' button obviously. As the Klingons in the crowd noticed how many times she did that, sighs and groans could be heard coming from that.
"Yeah, mmhmm, yeah, aha, mmm," she said in the microphone of the stand, "Well, my advisor prepared this rather lengthy speech for me, but since most of it has been said, I think I can sum the rest of it up . . ." And as she threw the PADD over her shoulder she added, " . . .in about two words: let's party!"
Shouts and yells of approval came from the Klingons, most of them grabbing cups and filling them with Bloodwine. Some stuck their D'Ktah knives in a piece of meat and started eating from it. One Klingon yelled, "Hail to the Ambassador." Most of the Klingons followed by raising their metal cups and yelling, "Hail!!" The next thing the Klingons did was grab some of the Federation personnel - still not over the abrupt ending of the speech - shove Bloodwine filled cups in their hands and yell to them, "Drink! Didn't you hear your Ambassador?"
"That was a rather smart move, Ambassador," Chancellor Azebur of the Klingon High Council admonished to Dana. "I think you made yourself quite popular with us."
"Most of them - all of them - seemed to get bored. Besides I don't like long speeches," Dana answered, and saw Duncan standing rather close. "Lieutenant MacLeod, what are you still doing here, hovering around me like a mother hen? Get down there, mingle, pick up a nice, hot Klingon babe for the night. That would be good for relations between us and the Klingons. I'm sure there are a few Klingon women, who would be delighted to teach you Klingon mating rituals," she ordered, flashing him a quick grin.
"Oh . . . I'm certain there are," Azebur answered as she let her intense, predatory gaze, take in every inch of his body. She gave a short growl of approval, before finishing with a feral grin on her face, "Oh, yes, there definitely will be a few."
MacLeod, not used to such open treatment as a piece of meat, muttered something unintelligible and stepped down from the stage and moved into the crowd.
"Perhaps I should have told him," Dana mused out loud.
"Told him what?" Azebur asked, curious.
"Well, he has this chivalrous notion about never hitting a woman," Dana grinned at the Chancellor, who laughed loudly.
"He better learn soon, or he won't keep a single Klingon female in his bed . . . and that would be bad for relations - at least for him, that is," Azebur answered, chuckling some more.
"I'm going to have to talk to you about the evacuation of Q'onos," Dana said to Azebur a little seriously.
"Is something wrong with it?" Azebur a bit suspicious.
"Yes. It leaves Q'onos a barren wasteland for about 500,000 years," Dana answered her.
"It will be too if we stay, and then we'll be dead as well. We can repair the ozone layer, we can clean up the radiation, but there is nothing we, or you, can do about the sub-space radiation which would still keep destroying the ozone layer and bringing new normal radiation," Azebur told solemnly.
"Not necessarily. I've been looking through the records, and a year ago there was a request for a grand for a research project on clean-up of sub-space radiation. The request was denied, since, just like now, the destruction of Praxis and its results to your atmosphere are still not public knowledge. And the necessity of cleaning up sub-space radiation is not that much of a priority; there were other, more useful projects," Dana explained.
"Really? This is not a joke, or is it?" Chancellor Azebur said dangerously.
"No, it is not a joke, I've even talked to the people about it. They estimated, that with the right funding and equipment, they could be finished in about twenty to twenty-five years. Understand, they also said that it could take over fifty years if they encounter big enough unforseen problems," Dana explained.
"Aah, and you're suggesting I fund these people, so they might finish their technological break-trough in time to clean up our atmosphere?" Azebur asked, intrigued.
"No, more than that. I'm saying you get them here and have them work with your scientists. The bigger the diversity, the larger the chance for success," Dana explained.
"Are you free tomorrow morning at eight o'clock? So we can discuss your proposal?" Azebur asked.
"I'm free," Dana answered. "If you'll excuse me, I think I'll join the party."
"Me too," Azebur answered.
Dana grabbed a metal cup, filled it with Bloodwine and gulped a few mouthfuls down as she walked into the party. *When in Rome . . .* she thought. A handful of Gagh followed next; she let them slither down her throat.
"You actually eat that stuff?" an ensign next to her asked disgusted.
"Sure, it's rather tasty," Dana answered grinning at her, then threw one worm at her. She caught it reflexively and stared at it. "Taste it. You'll like it."
"No way," she said disgusted.
"If your Ambassador says you should taste it," a female Klingon nearby said, as she turned around and faced the ensign. She grinned evilly, then grabbed the ensigns arm with the Gagh worm in it and proceeded to shove it towards the ensigns mouth. She pushed the worm in her mouth and used her other hand on the ensign's throat to force her to swallow. "You should taste it," the Klingon finished as she pushed the ensign through one of the tables with food, the dish on it was covered with something that looked like chicken wings. Dana quickly grabbed one before the whole table, including the ensign, toppled over. As the Klingons laughed out loud, Dana tasted the piece of the bird and it definitely wasn't chicken, but it tasted good enough, so she ripped another piece of meat of it with her teeth.
The Ensign, Thomas, stood up, fuming with anger, and walked towards the still laughing Klingon woman and yelled, "You stinking, fucking, slut!"
"Hey!" one of the Klingon males said, as she stepped forward, "You are talking about my sister there!"
"What are you gonna do about it? Kill me?" Sabine Thomas answered angrily.
"The thought had crossed my mind," the Klingon growled menacingly, stepping close to her, making himself seem extra big. He pored his eyes over Sabine's one meter seventy four centimeter frame, giving extra attention to her - bared by the short skirt - legs, her crotch, her breasts and finally her pony-tailed light blonde hair. Dana grinned at the scene, she wanted to know how the Ensign would handle it before she stepped in. To her surprise Sabine grabbed a metal bowl from the table behind her, threw out whatever was in it and smashed the Klingon in the head with it. He staggered back and dropped to the floor instantly. Sabine, still holding the bowl, stood ready to fight, unconsciously baring her teeth. The rest of the group of Klingons to which the man belonged looked at her for a moment, apparently a little bit surprised, then grinned at her and started to form a half-circle around her, Dana - who was starting to notice she was in the wrong place - and the Klingon male.
"Are you going to help me?" Ensign Thomas asked, getting a little scared. One Klingon was one thing, but to be surrounded by a whole bunch of them did not seem good to her.
"Kinky," Dana whispered to her, as they watched the Klingon come back to her feet lazily, "but I'm not in the mood for a threesome. But I hadn't seen it in you, not even tasting a worm and now trying out sex with him - as the first Human with a Klingon probably."
"Wh-wh-what?" Sabine asked, perplexed. Here were a whole group of Klingons getting ready to slaughter her and she thought about sex. "What are you talking about?" she squeaked out in a tiny voice.
"Oh, boy, you don't know do you? I'll give you some advice; next time, read up on the other culture first. If you wanted a fight, you should have hit him in the stomach and after that in the head. As it is . . . you've just initiated a Klingon mating ritual," Dana grinned at the ensign, laughing inside at the irony of it, and seeing how the Klingon tasted his own blood from his finger and growling in approval without looking at them.
Ensign Thomas' eyes grew large in shock. "You mean h-he thinks I w-want . . .?"
"To fuck him?" Dana supplied the end of the question, whispering. "Yeah. And I can't help you without risking an incident; I am the Ambassador, after all. Basically; you've made your bed and now you have to lie in it."
"A feisty one! I like that!" the Klingon shouted, the Klingons in the circle laughed.
"But I'll give you some advice. Don't apologize, don't try to explain, go with the flow, experiment, be the first Human with a Klingon. You just might like it," Dana whispered her quickly and moved away from Ensign Thomas, who had shocked expression on her face.
Dana brushed passed the heated Klingon, bumping gently in him and rapidly whispering, "Be soft. You don't want to break her in half before you can get her into your bed, now do you?"
The Klingon's first instinct was throw the pesky woman aside, like a fly, but the hushed warning got him to his senses. His first instinct had been to smash his fist into the face of the sexy, little thing that had so obviously showed interest in him. After the warning he realized that that would cause the woman to require serious medical attention, at the very least. He decided to do it differently, but with no less show of dominance though. He was of the diplomatic core, so he had been ordered to learn about Human culture. That gave him his idea.
"He he, hi . . ." Sabine started nervously, having no idea how to get herself out of the mess she had gotten herself into. Then the Klingon's hand shot out too sudden and fast for her to react to and she felt it grab her in the small of her back. She was pulled into him hard and there was no way to resist as he turned them around, reversing position. The Klingon looked at Dana with a look that asked, 'Soft enough?'
Dana answered by mouthing 'Kiss her, you fool.' He grinned and grabbed Sabine roughly by her ponytail. "What are . . .?" Sabine tried, before she felt her head being pulled forward. Her eyes widened further as she saw his head coming forward fast. *He's going to give me a head but and I'll die,* she thought in shock. She was even more shocked when she felt him roughly push his tongue in her mouth and proceeded to kiss her just as roughly. About fifteen seconds later he pulled back and as he did so bit hard on her lower lip, drawing blood. He licked some up and grinned at her, then growled softly, "Your blood tastes good. Now it's your turn, bite my cheek."
The whole situation was just too unreal. First she was ready to battle a Klingon, then suddenly it turns out he wanted to have sex with her, and that she unwittingly had seduced him. And he had grabbed her so strong, rough, unrelenting, yet soft and somehow sensual. The kiss had been no less so. watching him savoring her blood was one of the erotic things she had ever seen and Dana's voice kept echoing through her mind, 'You just might like it.' So, she buried her hands in his long hair, holding his head that way and kissed his right cheek, then bit it, hard, until she felt some of his blood seeping on her tongue. It tasted rather bitter-sweet and sensual.
"I'm Goran, son of Igon," he growled softly in her ear, then bit her ear lobe.
She gasped and whispered back, "Sabine Thomas. I've got to be honest with you, I didn't even know that what I did was a mating ritual."
Goran looked in her eyes for a moment, then laughed out loud, "My bed."
As he laughingly picked her up and threw her over her shoulder, she shrieked, "Hey!"
"And she didn't even know she was seducing me! I'm off to bed, and she's coming with me!" Goran yelled in Klingon after which he burst out laughing and walked out the exit. The half-circle of Klingons laughed as hard as him and dissolved back into a group of drinking and laughing Klingons.
"Carry on, Ensign!" Dana shouted after her, then turned around, walked further into the crowd as she threw the now clean bone to the floor, and smiled, thinking, *Well, that worked out just fine. Thank god!*
MacLeod and a Commander wormed themselves through the crowd hastily. She stopped them and asked, "Where are you two going in such hurry?"
"Finding out what's going on down there," the Commander stated.
"Oh, that was just a Klingon mating ritual," Dana answered him.
MacLeod looked up suddenly, and tried to push past Dana while he said, "That Klingon is kidnapping a Federation officer."
"No, he's not," Dana explained, as she held him back. "They did the ritual."
"Are you saying, that - I think it was ensign Thomas - and the Klingon are . . . are . . .?" Commander Harris asked, unable to say it, let alone think it.
"Yeah. He's taking her all right, just not against her will and straight to, and then in his bed," Dana explained, grinning widely. "I must admit, I'm rather impressed of how she handled the situation."
"Ambassador!" the Klingon woman who Ensign Thomas had insulted called as she worked her way to Dana. "That was a rather impressive way the ensign seduced my brother. Do you teach all your females how to do that, or is it just her?"
"Actually, she didn't even know what she was initiating," Dana told the Klingon woman.
The Klingon grinned and said, "I don't believe that; she was too good. It doesn't matter anyway; they'll both be having a very pleasant night."
"I have no doubt they will," Dana answered her.
"Speaking of pleasant nights," the Klingon grinned ferally, as she noticed MacLeod, "if my brother can take a Federation, then why not me?" She grabbed his arm, squeezed to check if he had firm muscles and bared her teeth. "I think I like you," she growled as she pushed MacLeod hard into a pillar that was right behind him. "My name is Marda, daughter of Igon."
After a needed breath MacLeod answered, "Duncan MacLeod."
"Duncan," Marda tested the name on her lips, rode really close up to him, resting her breasts with an open cleavage against his chest. "I like that name," she growled.
"Eh, would you step away, please," MacLeod asked nervously.
"Not really," she growled, biting him in the cheek, tasting his blood. "What are you going to do about it?"
"Ma'am, I don't think he wants to do what you want," Harris answered, a little nervous.
"Really?" she answered him sarcastically as she grabbed his crotch with her left hand, "His body tells me otherwise."
"Really," Dana explained the woman. MacLeod seemed a bit relieved at Dana's interruption. "He's got this moral code, that tells him never to hit a woman."
MacLeod's face was one of shock, while Marda told him, as she pushed herself even tighter against his body, "Well, well, Duncan, I think you should start hitting women, preferably with me, because we Klingon women like to be hit." When MacLeod just looked at her in shock, she pulled him along to the exit.
"Do me a favor? While you ravish him, hurt him a lot," Dana asked Marda.
"It'll be my pleasure," Marda growled back to the now laughing Dana Scully.
"I'll get you for this, Josie!" Duncan exclaimed from behind Marda.
"No, I think you'll thank me instead!" Dana shouted after him.
"Whoa, that's two. How many more of the Klingons do you think will have sex with us?" Harris exclaimed.
"At least one more," Dana answered, grinning at his dumbfounded face.
"Oh, brother," Harris exclaimed as he decided to leave the party and go to bed.
Dana looked around, working herself a way through the party until she finally spotted him, Then moved towards him.
"Well, Klarok! I think we've got some things to discuss, don't you!?" Dana interrupted his banter with a group of mixed Federation officers and Klingons.
"Oh, really!?" Klarok said, clearly displeased with her interruption.
"Yes, really. Now follow me!" she ordered.
"Give me one good reason why I should!" he said angry, in almost a growl.
"Because if you don't, I'll pull you along by your feet, and you'll be responsible for a diplomatic incident!" Dana fumed at him, her eyes glittering in excitement, as did Klarok's.
"Eh . . . Ambassador," one of the Federation officers, a lieutenant, tried to sus the situation.
"Shut up!" she and Klarok snapped at him. Then he stepped up to her and growled, "If you think you can order me around, I'll . . ."
Dana interrupted him forcefully, "You what! You gonna kill me?!" He bared his teeth, but held his tongue. "I didn't think so!" Dana added and started walking towards a door. Klarok followed her, angry.
They left the building and she headed for what she assumed his house. "Perhaps you should lead me to your house. It's not like I know this city after being here less than a day."
He took point. "And what do you want to do there?!" he asked in a displeased tone.
"What do you think, you damn fool?!" Dana snapped at him. He growled, then they were silent.
They were like that for about half an hour, before they reached his compound. He slammed the door three time. "It's me!" he said in an angry tone.
The gate opened, and the guard said, "Q'aplah!"
Klarok just walked by him, still fuming. Dana followed close behind. They reached the door leading in to the house and he slammed his hand on it once, saying in Klingon, "Open the damn door."
"So how am I doing?" she asked quickly a little smile on her face.
"I don't think I have to answer that question," he growled, softly. She glanced over him and noticed a bulge in the crotch of his pants.
"Oh!" she said, angry, with a little smile she had difficulty hiding as she felt her juices flowing from her vagina. "And you actually think you're going to get to use that, boy?"
"That was the plan, yes!" he shouted at her.
"Well, you better apologize first buster," Dana said, menacingly at him.
"Apologize for what?!"
"Is it just you, or is it whole of the Klingon species that's this dense?!" she asked him sarcastically.
"What are you talking about?!" he asked indignantly, adding a growl.
"If you think, that after the way you greeted me on the Enterprise, I'm even giving you as much as a kiss, think again, pall," Dana grimly told him.
"Oh, you Human women probably expect me to drop to my knees in front of that view screen, with a dozen red roses and pledge my undying love?!" he asked sarcastically.
"That would be good start, YES!!!" she screamed at him. At that moment the door was opened by a servant.
"Inside! Now!" Klarok growled at her.
"The hell I am!" Dana screamed at him and turned around to leave. His hand grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back.
"You're not going anywhere!" he growled loudly. She turned around and let her right fist fly straight into his chin. He reeled back from the blow, but recoiled quickly by smashing her with the back of his hand. Dana felt something crack in her jaw.
"Bitch!" he shouted, then grabbed her by the waist as she reeled backward and he started to rush her into the house. She spread her arms and grabbed the door frame and kept him from going through the door with her; at the same time both her feet kicked in his stomach. He staggered back for an instant as he doubled over, time Dana used to smash his face into her knee. With roar he smashed upward with a double handed uppercut. Dana stumbled backward into the house. He ran after her and kicked her hard in the stomach sending her flying to the floor.
"Lock the door and open the bedroom! I'm gonna teach this bitch a lesson," he ordered the female servant who instantly complied with his orders. He walked up to her, towering over her lying form. She kicked out and hit him in the knee.
"Aah!" he screamed in pain, but he didn't let himself be deterred and he kicked her so hard in the stomach that she flew a meter through the air before landing again. She clutched her stomach, that had really hurt, but it did nothing diminish her excitement. She got up and felt Klarok barrel into her. She grabbed him and held her ground, that suddenly let herself fall to the floor, kicked her right foot out and let him sail over her. He landed with a loud growl and quickly got up, then grabbed her hair as she tried to walk away and used it to smash her face into a wall. Her elbow found his midriff and as he doubled over and let go of her hair. She smashed a double-handed axe blow into his face.
"Slut! That's it," he growled, shot up, and grabbed her throat with his right hand, pulling her about twenty centimeters from the floor than threw her through the bedroom door. He walked through and smashed the door behind him. "Lock the door!" he shouted in Klingon. He walked forward into the room, after he heard the lock being turned.
"There," he said, "now you're mine, sweet little raven-haired beauty!"
"Don't count on it, P'tagh!" Dana yelled as she grabbed something from the table, an expensive looking vase with some indigenous Klingon flowers in them, and threw it at him. It hit him square in the chest; he was forced to take a step back as the vase fell to the floor and shattered. "You're not getting me, you son of a bitch!" she yelled as she picked up everything that she could find and threw it at him. He just grinned, and proceeded to take off his clothes as he dodged a few projectiles and promised her a lot of taming and hot sex, while complimenting her looks. When he was finished undressing, she grabbed a wooden chair and threw that to. He caught it and smashed it to pieces against the wall.
*Uh oh! Now I'm in trouble,* she grinned inwardly, *I'm out of things to throw.*
"Nothing more to throw," he growled softly and menacingly as he advanced on her.
She screamed and threw a punch at him with her left hand. He caught it, but not the follow up of her right hand. A little of his crimson blood was released from his mouth and landed somewhere on the floor. Her right foot kicked him in the chest; she felt the satisfying crunch of a cracking rib. Then she smashed him on the right elbow with her free left hand and heard it crack. With a roar he put his right hand, despite his cracked elbow, on her throat and his left at her waist and picked her up. In the same roar he ran her into the wall above the bed rest, than put her down on it.
"Aah!" she exclaimed as she felt a few of her ribs crack satisfyingly, even as her head smashed against the wall hard. *God, this so hot!* she thought, but not because she was being hurt, but because they both were. Every hit was so carefully placed, she noticed; none came anywhere close to permanently harming her, there were only bruises and broken bones and somehow he seemed to be able to ensure her with every hit, that he would never do anything to truly harm her or anything truly against her will, almost as if after each hit he gently stroked each sore spot. She now knew why Klingons found this so arousing, and why some Human females had fantasies about being raped.
With his left hand, Klarok started to rip the clothes from her body one by one. He grinned approvingly at her bare chest, whispering menacingly, "So you were going to keep these from me, heh?"
"I still am," she countered. He laughed and ripped away her pants.
"Now, you're mine," he growled.
"Don't count on it," she hissed, closing her legs and putting her feet against him, trying to push him away, her arms reached for his shoulders and did the same. He pushed against her legs and arms, forcing them backwards and forcing them to bend.
He grinned evilly at her, hissing, "You shouldn't have been flaunting it around, girl. Now it's mine." He grabbed her knees with both hands and started pulling them apart. In her current position she didn't have the leverage to stop him and so her legs parted slowly. It felt so erotic, not being able to stop; it give her a feeling of weakness, combined with the fact that she wanted this weakness, that she wanted him to take her, it gave her wicked feelings of arousal, laced with a little guilt.
"No!" she wailed as her legs were finally pulled apart, or rather she let them be pulled apart, and he moved in between them.