Klingon Headquarters, London

Wednesday 26th January 1994

Krang was no medic but like most warriors, he had a rudimentary knowledge of battlefield medicine, and examining his mate, he had been relieved to find that she was not seriously hurt – a black eye and broken nose, a split lip, some cuts and bruises, nothing that was not easily fixed, although he was concerned that there could be internal injuries that were not visible.

Concentrating on Chrissie's welfare, Krang had nevertheless kept at least some of his attention on the fight going on behind him. Even so, he did not sense Karg's approach until it was almost too late.

"Krang! Look out!"

A champion knife fighter, Karg was fast, and the warning came just a little too late. As the blade came down, Krang felt the rush of air and started to turn to defend himself. It was that movement that saved his life. The blade sank into his upper back dangerously close to his spine, the force of the blow causing him to pitch forward into Chrissie's arms, knocking her off balance. He was heavy and she staggered back a step or two until she came up against the brick wall. Steadying herself, she caught hold of him, doing her best to prevent him from falling.

Karg pulled his blade free of Krang's flesh, and she could only watch in terrified anticipation as he raised his arm again in preparation for a second strike. Distantly, she saw Koreth getting to his feet and heard his voice shouting insults at Karg in an effort to distract him from his target. "Karg! Face me if you dare, you honourless pile of rotting forshak! I am not done with you yet!"

Growling, Karg turned, kicking viciously at Koreth. His armoured boot connected with Koreth's wrist, breaking it with an audible snap and sending his knife flying across the room. The blade clattered across the floor, coming to a rest very close to Chrissie.

For what felt like forever, but was in reality only a second or two, she stared at the weapon and then, a mad impulse taking hold of her, she ducked under Krang's arm, diving towards it. Landing on her knees, she reached out and closed her fingers around the handle. Made for a Klingon hand, it was a little too big to feel comfortable but with her lack of familiarity with weapons, she was not convinced that even a correctly sized knife would feel right.

Chrissie would be the first to admit that she was no warrior and that she had absolutely no idea what she was doing. She had intended only to somehow get the knife back to Koreth but he was obviously injured. How seriously she could not tell, but there seemed to be a lot of blood – bright, violet blood that to Chrissie's eyes did not look real.

Her gaze turned back to Krang. He too was injured, and in his case, she had no doubt of its seriousness. He'd been leaning on her and her sudden movement had left him unsupported. He was leaning on the wall now, gasping for breath as he attempted to pull himself upright. Anger flooded through her at the sight. Her mate was hurt! That… that… she could not think of a word that was bad enough to describe him… had tortured her, beaten her, tried to rape her… and if that was not enough, now he had dishonourably attacked from behind, stabbing Krang in the back. In the week she had been with Krang… and part of her could not quite grasp the fact that it was only a week and not her entire life... he had spoken several times of Klingon honour and she knew that challenges and duels were commonplace in his culture. But Karg had not followed the rules.

"You call me weak," she said shakily. "But you attack from behind, afraid to look your enemy in the eye. You are nothing but an honourless coward!" Somehow, she knew, to a Klingon that was the greatest insult of all.

Letting out a low, menacing growl, Karg stalked towards her, coming to a halt right in front of her. Kneeling on the floor, her eyes took in the heavy leather boots, shod in metal with horns on the toecaps. Lifting her head, she looked higher, her gaze travelling upwards towards his face. This close, he seemed huge and terrifying, his expression full of contempt and hate.

Chrissie's world narrowed. She did not see Krang turning towards her, one hand on the wall, the other going to the knife in his belt. She did not see Kay'vin standing in the doorway, a look of shock on his face as he stepped forward, d'k tahg in hand. Nor did she see Koreth struggling to get up, reaching out with his left hand for the knife that she held. Likewise, the two guards and Marla, who had just arrived with the promised items, were equally invisible to her. There was nothing but her and Karg. "You know," she said with biting sarcasm, "if you were a gentleman, you'd help me up and stand still while I kill you!"

Karg bared his teeth, letting out a harsh laugh. The Tera'ngan woman was no threat to him, even with a knife in her hand. She was not worth his anger. Maybe he would indulge her for a moment and allow her to play a little before he killed her. His hand shot out, grabbing her arm and dragging her to her feet before letting go of her again. "Go ahead and try it," he invited her, holding his arms out sideways. "I am waiting…"

Anger rose in Chrissie, quickly spilling over into fury and recklessly, unheeding of the danger, she rushed at him, raising the d'k'tahg in an attempt to stab him. Her opponent was far too quick for her and she never stood a chance of succeeding. Almost casually, he stepped aside, allowing her momentum to carry her past him, and then, grabbing her arm, he twisted it effortlessly, forcing her back against the wall. Releasing her momentarily, he shifted his grip back to her already bruised throat, fingers digging brutally into her skin and choking her. For a second time she tried to use her knee against him. Karg twisted sideways to avoid the blow and as he did so, he tightened his grip on her throat. "Is that the best you can do?" he taunted her. "Even a Klingon infant could do better."

Unable to breathe, she struggled desperately but could not free herself. He was right, she thought vaguely, she was weak and useless. Why had she ever thought she could take on an experienced and highly trained Klingon warrior and survive, let alone win? Grey spots danced across her eyes and her vision faded. No! She was not going to faint! Panicking, Chrissie raised the knife that was miraculously still in her hand and lashed out, stabbing at him in a desperate attempt to free herself. The blade hit the metal trim on his shoulder armour and was deflected sideways.

Sneering, Karg leaned closer to her. "Pathetic little…" A combination of surprise and pain filled his eyes as the knife slid off the metal armour and aided by his own movement, went straight into his throat. Whatever insult he had been about to utter was lost in a sickening gurgle and a rush of bright, violet blood. The light in his eyes fading, he slipped sideways, dead before he hit the ground.

Chrissie stared down at his body, shocked and not quite comprehending what had happened. She had never killed anyone before, let alone anyone as strong and powerful as Karg and it did not seem real. There was blood everywhere, all over his body and probably, she realised, all over her as well. Again, the alienness of its colour struck her. She had known that Klingon blood was not red, had even seen the bloodstains on the filthy hospital scrubs her brother had been wearing when he'd been rescued, but seeing actual blood and knowing that she was the cause of it was something different. She knew that it should bother her and maybe when the adrenaline had worn off, it would. She'd always been taught that it was wrong to kill but this was the blood of her enemy and she could not find it in her to feel any regret for what she had done.

The courtroom, Qo'noS, 2375

Trial Day 4

There was a rapt silence in the courtroom as Chrissie paused. Her shame and guilt at the memory of how quickly she had broken under torture had given way to a quiet pride. That she had been the one to kill Karg had caught everyone by surprise, not least those who had been present at the time. It had been surprisingly easy to come to terms with. She'd expected to feel guilt at taking a life. It was ingrained in her culture and her religious beliefs – 'Thou Shalt Not Kill'. And whatever rules the Klingon invaders had for themselves, it had been made clear to the conquered population that any attack on a Klingon was punishable by death. By both her rules and theirs, she had just committed a serious crime. And yet… she had seen no condemnation in the eyes of those around her, only surprised approval and from Krang, a look of shocked pride. Here in the courtroom, she was seeing the same reactions, the initial silence giving way to a murmuring which grew louder as the various officials in the audience responded to what they had heard.

Looking uncertainly towards her husband, she relaxed a little. That pride was still visible in his eyes. She knew how he felt about that incident; he'd told her often enough. She was Terran and did not have the strength or the training that a Klingon female took for granted, hence it was his place to protect her and keep her safe. That she had fought for him and attempted to defend him when he was injured, meant everything to him. She should never doubt, he had told her sincerely, that she was worthy of his love and his respect.

Allowing the noise to continue for a few moments, the judge considered what he had heard so far. It was getting late and he had already allowed the trial to continue for longer than he had over the previous few days. That was mostly, of course, due to the extreme heat. Today was thankfully cooler. Ideally, he should call a halt to the proceedings, but he was not quite ready for that. There was more that he wanted to know.

Stories were of great importance to the Klingon psyche and this was a story that no-one had ever heard before. Even if he were not required to make a judgement on it, he would want to hear the rest. The end of the story was inevitable - at some point, Krang would make that fateful decision to betray the empire and bring the Klingon rule of Earth to an end. But while the destination was known, the journey was not, and how Krang's treason had come about was still not clear. Certainly, it was a journey full of twists and turns. That Krang's Terran wife had managed to take down a Klingon warrior, even if it had been more or less by accident, was surprising to say the least and Krahl had no doubt that there were more surprises to come. No, he decided, he was not yet ready to adjourn.

The noise showed no sign of abating and with not a little irritation, Krahl grasped the great globe-like gavel and brought it crashing down. Instantly there was silence. Satisfied, he glanced around the courtroom, his gaze settling on Chrissie. For all she stood proudly and seemed to have recovered her equanimity, she looked pale and weary. She was Terran, he reminded himself, and she did not have the stamina of a Klingon, even if she had not complained or asked for any concessions. That was something he could respect. He might wish to continue but maybe he should offer her the choice. "Wife of Krang, the hour grows late. Are you willing to continue?"

Chrissie did not hesitate. It had been a long day and she was tired and hungry, not to mention emotionally drained, but she was determined to show no weakness and wanted to get this over and done with. "I am willing."

The judge grunted an acknowledgment. "Very well then. Continue!"

A big thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story and my apologies for the delay in posting. This part of the story is critical and I need to take the time to get it right.

Special thanks to RobertBruceScott for the discussion on how Chrissie might be able to kill Karg, and I so wish I could have made his idea work because it was genius! Thanks also to Solasnagreine for the kick up the backside to get on with it.