Warning: some mention of marital abuse in this chapter and the next one. And I do not condone abuse in any form. If you are struggling with this issue in real life, please get help. Nobody should have to put up with mental or physical abuse.

Also just to add that this story has been planned out for a long time and any similarity to current events ( police brutality, rioting etc) was not intended, although those current events did give me some insights into how people might react in this situation)

Klingon Headquarters, London

Wednesday 19th January 1994

The journey across London was fraught with problems. Since her earlier, abortive visit to Klingon headquarters, the underground had closed to all but essential workers and even if she could afford one, there were no taxis in sight. Nor were buses running regularly. She'd had to wait nearly an hour at the bus stop and when the bus finally did come, she learned that roadblocks were in place, causing detours and massive holdups. In the end she'd had to walk the last couple of miles.

When Chrissie finally arrived at Klingon headquarters, it was much later than she had planned. At this time of year, the sun set very early and the street was dark, lit only by the orange glow of the street lamps. In contrast, the building used by the Klingons was illuminated by powerful floodlights. She glanced worriedly at her watch. Five thirty-five pm. The soldier had told her late afternoon but by even the most generous definition it was way past that now. Would he still be here? Or had she wasted another journey?

The doors of the building were still closed and heavily guarded but this time, instead of blocking her, the soldiers stepped aside to allow her access and the one who had previously spoken to her, gestured towards the door. "You will come with me, woman."

That was promising; at least he was not sending her away this time. Obediently she followed the tall soldier into the building. As they stepped into the warmth of the reception area and the door closed behind them, she let out an involuntary sigh of relief, thankful to finally be out of the cold. Looking up at her escort, she noticed that he too seemed to have relaxed. "Have you been standing out there all day?" she asked him. "You must be absolutely frozen."

The guard gave her a surprised look but saw nothing but sympathy in her gaze. "We are rotated regularly," he told her, "and my uniform is warm. You need not concern yourself."

Moving across the reception area, Chrissie close behind him, the guard passed the duty officer, and after a brief conversation in his own language, he banged hard on the door of the security captain's office. Another brief conversation followed and Chrissie guessed that it was as simple as 'The Terran woman is here…" and "very well, show her in…"

As the door swung open and the guard gestured for her to enter, Chrissie obediently stepped into the room.

The Klingon security captain was sitting at his desk. Growling, he glanced up in momentary annoyance at the intrusion. Having immersed himself in his work again, he'd almost forgotten about the Terragnan woman he had been waiting for until Bekk Grenn had knocked on his office door.

The sound of his growl was intimidating and Chrissie hesitated, stopping for a moment and looking around her nervously, taking in her surroundings. Nothing had changed since her last visit, except… on the desk, half obscured by a pile of padds and notebooks made of real paper, lay a battered teddy bear. Chrissie recognised it at once; her daughter took that bear everywhere with her. What was it doing on the Klingon captain's desk?

"Where did you get that?" Chrissie demanded. Her momentary nervousness replaced by a mix of fear and maternal protectiveness, she gestured towards the little bear. "Where are my children? What have you done to them?"

"Your children are at my home," the Klingon told her, consciously choosing not to curb her aggression… for now, at least. She did not yet have any reason to trust him, Krang thought, although she would do well to watch her step. Her attitude was not that different to a Klingon woman, but even so, he would only tolerate so much from her. "They are well and unharmed, although missing their mother." Picking up the bear, the security captain examined it as though he had only just noticed its presence. "Your daughter left this in the cells. I have been meaning to return it to her."

Alive? Her children were not only alive, but he'd said they were well and unharmed. Almost giddy with relief, she was unable to prevent herself from smiling at the incongruous sight of the big Klingon in that scary black uniform, holding a child's teddy bear in his hand.

Her relief faded as his earlier words registered. What were her children doing in his home? Suddenly angry and afraid, she attacked him verbally, "You had no right to take my children. If you've hurt them…"

"Would you prefer that I had left them to sleep in the prison cells?" Krang interrupted her sarcastically. "I have already told you that they are unharmed."

"I only have your word for that."

Barely aware of the teddy bear he was still holding, the Klingon slammed his free hand down on the desk with a loud bang that made her jump. Getting to his feet with a suddenness that sent his chair skittering backwards, he moved round the desk, approaching her. He was a big man and he towered over her. "You question my word?" Krang snarled, his anger showing not just in his voice but in his stance and the hand that was now resting lightly on the knife at his belt. "You insult my honour!"

Chrissie realised that she had gone too far. Klingons had been known to kill for less reason than an insult to their honour. She stood her ground, too scared to move, and knowing that to show cowardice now would be a fatal mistake. "I apologise," she said quietly, "No insult was intended."

"Apology accepted," he said curtly, stepping forward and closing the remaining distance between them until they were almost touching. She remained very still, looking back at him, meeting his eyes and to his surprise, he felt his body responding to her nearness.

She had courage, he thought, and somewhat inappropriately, he found himself noticing that for a Terragnan, she was not unattractive. The physical attributes of Terrans seemed to depend on which part of the planet they originated from and from what he could see of this woman, wrapped up as she was in her winter clothing, her appearance was fairly typical of women from this region. Her face was pale, almost creamy in colour, albeit red tinged from the cold air, with small light brown marks on her cheeks and around large, brown eyes – freckles, he thought they were called… and looking into those eyes, he was pleased to see no hate or resentment. Hair, also brown, fell to her shoulders, curling under slightly at the bottom – all but one errant lock that seemed to insist on twisting outwards – and across her face it was cut just above her eyebrows. To Klingon eyes, the smooth forehead covered by hair seemed odd, but it seemed a popular style here on Earth. As far as he could see, there was nothing special about her, nothing out of the ordinary and no reason at all for him to be attracted to her… and yet, he was.

Did she have a mate, he wondered? Certainly, there was no sign of one, nor had the children mentioned a father. Was she a widow then? Or was she divorced? If he had done the background check, he thought wryly, he would know the answer to those questions. There was still time for him to do it – the check would take the computer only a few minutes, but in his current mood, he could not be bothered.

He'd had enough of everything. He was tired and hungry and right now, he realised, he did not want to be alone. Krang made up his mind then, he wanted her. "Have dinner with me," he said impulsively. Spend tonight with me and I will return your children to you in the morning."

Stunned, Chrissie gazed at him, looking up into those dark, fierce eyes that reminded her of a hawk. Spend the night with him? Sleep with him? The idea terrified her but how could she say no?

She'd been pregnant, the extreme summer heat leaving her tired as well as nauseous; she had thought her husband would understand her lack of desire for sex. She had been wrong. Diego had made it very clear to her that she had no right to refuse.

Crack! The fist smashed into her face, sending her staggering backwards. Her hand went to her cheek and she stared at him with shocked, frightened eyes as he stepped closer to her. "Do I have to hit you again?" he queried, "Do as you are told!"

She had heard rumours about Klingon men and their sexual practices and the last thing she had wanted was to find out whether they were true. But what choice did she have? Like any mother, she would do anything to protect her children. Pulling back slightly to give herself a little distance, she allowed her eyes to roam his body, studying him carefully.

He was not ugly if the obviously alien crest on his brow was ignored – tall and lean and powerfully built with nicely toned muscles. The intimidating black leather uniform fit him perfectly, emphasising broad shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist and hips. His features were fierce looking, almost grim, with dark skin that had he been human, she would have described as Mediterranean in tone. Chrissie had already noted the hawk-like quality of his eyes – sharp and full of intelligence, noting everything around him. They had been the first thing she had noticed about him. Untidy black hair with just the faintest hint of grey in places framed his heavy cranial ridges, hanging a few inches past his shoulders. In contrast, his beard and moustache were short and neatly trimmed.

So far, Chrissie thought, he had not harmed her. She would survive this… and a small, treacherous part of her said she might even enjoy it… and afterwards, her children would be returned to her. Slowly she gave a nod of agreement.

"Good!" the Klingon said, a slight smile softening his face. It was not strictly honourable to proposition a woman in such a way and he hadn't expected her to agree so easily; had in fact expected to get his face slapped. "Let's go."

Heading back to the reception area, Krang opened another door which led into some sort of large open plan office. Several guards and officers were there, some seated at desks, operating very advanced looking computer systems that made Terran computers look like something out of the Flintstones. Others were standing around chatting – although to Chrissie, the harsh, staccato tones of their language sounded far too aggressive to be described as anything so mundane as chatting - and drinking something that smelled like very strong coffee. Krang beckoned to one of them, a female. As the woman approached, Chrissie couldn't help staring at her. She had never seen a Klingon female before – she wore leather armour as the men did but on her it looked totally different – it was tight fitting and open at the chest, displaying an impressive cleavage. Krang had a brief conversation with the woman in their own language.

With a curt nod, the woman turned away muttering something under her breath as she went back to her desk. She did not look happy, Chrissie thought, but whatever she'd said seemed to have amused the security captain, who appeared to be struggling to hold back a grin.

Aware that the Terragnan woman could not follow the conversation, Krang offered her a quick explanation. "My housekeeper goes off duty in half an hour. Marla will care for the children until I return home."

Ready to depart, Krang started to take Chrissie's arm before stopping in slightly embarrassed realisation that he was still holding the teddy bear. He called the woman back and handed her the stuffed toy. Marla took it from him, looking at the little bear as though she had never seen anything like it. She probably hadn't, Chrissie mused. Somehow, she doubted that Klingon children had much softness in their lives and she said as much.

"You imply that we do not love our children," the woman named Marla said critically in strongly accented English.

Chrissie cursed herself. For the second time in as many minutes these Klingons had put her in the wrong and she found herself having to apologise again. "I am sure that all parents love their children, whatever species they are" she said carefully. "I just think that you probably have very different ideas about childcare."

"You're right actually," Krang said. "Our children do not play with such toys. They serve no purpose."

And yet, Chrissie thought, he had retrieved the toy to return to her daughter. That was not the action of a cruel, evil man, rather it was one of a man who cared. If he was telling the truth – and she rather thought he was, then he had gone out of his way to look after her children and keep them safe. Slowly her fear began to lessen and she relaxed enough to ask him a question. "What did she say to you?"

He gave her an enquiring look and she clarified, "A few minutes ago… she said something when she walked off and you looked like you were trying not to laugh…"

"Oh!" Krang said. "Yes… She made a rude comment about being an engineer rather than a babysitter and that if she had wanted to be a nursemaid, she would have stayed at home and got married." He grinned, the expression lighting up his face and making him seem younger and more approachable. "Since I do not wish to discipline her, it was best that I pretended not to hear."

Chrissie considered that. He had seemed a very serious man, almost grim and she hadn't expected him to have a sense of humour. Somehow the revelation made her feel better.