Chapter Five
Dark Sky Island
I found myself staring into those eyes - and I felt myself burn under the pressure of the amber orbs. I wanted to break the contact, but it was impossible. I was aware of night air, the splashing of ocean waves and the whisper of nature. But his eyes held me in place, as if he could not get enough of me.
"Jadzia." My name was the only thing I would hear from him, and I managed to tear my eyes from his only to admire his chiseled features that somehow seemed more attractive than my own species or maybe even human.
I blinked in surprise when his face vanished before my eyes, leaving me with nothing. I wasn't aware if any change occurred until my name was repeated - and this time with a deeper voice that did not belong to HIM.
"Jadzia."
I was not sure if I had my voice all along, but to speak it, I did not feel one ounce of dryness. "Who's there?" I called out, finding myself at the top of a mountain - a mountain surrounded by sea. Calm and at peace for the time being. I was at the top of the world of Qo'noS, and maybe the entire universe, for the stars around me blinked and twinkled, lighting the sky with colors of royal blue, dark navy, and pearly black. In response, the ocean below began to swirl and wave as the wind picked up.
And then, materializing out of the late night was a pair of eyes of great fire that sent me to my knees in startled surprise. Those eyes - they belonged to a Klingon man, a great warrior who lived long before I did, if I was not hallucinating. I asked again who he was, and he answered without a beat.
"I am Kahless."
I felt such heavy washes of bliss that it was as if I was a true Klingon. "Kahless," I repeated, "and no one ever sees the face of a past leader."
"I show myself only to those truly worthy."
I found myself looking briefly at the ground before me, past it being the edge over the powerful sea waves. "What do you want of me, great Kahless?" I asked, clasping my hands in front of me and anxious in every part of my nervous system. The great Emperor Kahless had come before me, a Trill. But why?
He did not even laugh, or display anything other than authority and guidance in his fierce orbs, two circles of fire that didn't spread to illuminate the sky. "You, Jadzia Idaris, daughter of Kela, have a vast road ahead of you," he said. "It will be long and difficult, but you are not alone. Your honor and courage will be put to the test...Worf will guide you. You are his salvation as he will be yours..."
~o~
When I awoke in the morning, I could not shake away the dream I had - or was it a...vision? I could not have been hallucinating the great Kahless. No Klingon ever did, but to the supposed sane-minded, he or she would have been labeled delusional.
I decided to keep this to myself for the time being. This was my problem to handle on my own, and I doubted Sirella's time would be wasted with trivial dreams. But Worf? After last night, I don't think any chance of comfort is ever possible - but how could I explain what Kahless said, that Worf had a part in some unknown path I had to take?
I'd always thought science was above everything religious, so I could not say I believed in prophecies. But I also knew I was not crazy.
You know it's true, Jadzia...
So, I did hear his voice, after all. I think I need more time to process all of this. I was not going to do it indoors, since I needed some isolation outside the house. But a tiny part of my common senses warned me to not take the outdoors lightly, but I had my phaser in case any wild beasts tried to come onto me.
It had been a long time since I had free outdoor time, and the sun beat down on my skin and made my spots tingle with my nerves. Hair held up, my body hugged with a vest over my shirt, and all ready to go, I left my room and found my way to the kitchens, wondering if I would be eating with Sirella this morning; she never did mention it, but she was good at catching me.
It was then that I noticed the weaponry decorating the walls: from bat'leth to kar'takin, and the d'k tahg which always bore the crest of a great family - Martok in this case. This was not just for simple show and decorating the house; this proved all Klingon Houses were the same with the "no fear of war" department. War on my part? I did not agree in the slightest.
When I happened upon the sitting room once again, my attention was on the mantle of the fireplace, seeing two bat'leth hanging above. It was impressive. I planned to take one of them and test it, see how I would wield it as a Klingon warrior would. By the looks of them, they appeared to be heavy business. But who cared? I had more muscle on me now than I did in younger years.
You must believe in yourself. You can wield the blade of a Klingon as powerfully as I. No better than I, your superior, but you, too, can be great.
I blinked. I have no idea where this voice was coming from, but this would not be deemed well once I became joined. Host and symbiont should not reject each other, except it was not like I was becoming Dax anytime soon.
I found myself enjoying a raktajino while I was in the kitchens, and there was an overweight male Klingon chef as well as a staff of three women and two men. The chef was really...charming, in his own way, and he insisted I was welcome any time; I might learn to make some of the various cuisines prepared. Afterwards when I bade them good-bye, I was free to roam the house until I found a doorway that led out to the landscape and forestry.
A warm breeze hit my face as soon as I stepped off the stone steps and onto the sweet grass - as sweet as it could get. Wildflowers splashed the green with color, giving this biome a soft serenity to lighten up the majestic scenery. Even though I did not need it right now, I kept my hand on the holster where my phaser pistol was, so I felt safer. I also had to think about what to do if I met barbaric hunters in these woods...
I was keeping track of my steps as well as where I was going as I followed small trails which eventually broke. My tricorder informed me of nearly every life-sign around me in case any came crossing my path, as well as identifying certain flora - and then I heard the noises, following the cracking of branches. Quickly, I put the tricorder to my belt and drew my phaser as I hid behind a tree.
Targ were coming my way.
~o~
If Curzon did teach me anything in the first week we spent, it was to always hold your guard, stay hidden until it was the right time to strike. Sound advice, one I would take today, not that the lesson wasn't new.
Slowly, I peeked around to see the four-legged beasts - three of them, maybe more to come - sniffing the air in search of food. I held my breath as I realized what they could do to ME if they caught my scent. I was too young to die, not that I was afraid. A soldier must always anticipate death approaching and never take it lightly that your time may not come when you expect it. But right now, the sweat breaking out in my skin was infuriating my senses even more.
Don't panic. You can fire and run, get away fast.
"Take a deep breath, Jadzia," I whispered to myself, holding the pistol close to my heart, pulling the safety down, hoping no real hunt was in order, and once I had them all distracted, I could -
A collection of snarling snapped my eyes open, and I found myself surrounded by the targ - every one of them. Their snouts were tilted upwards and their teeth were bared, their spiked backs menacing as much, and their eyes were fiercely hungry. They were starving for ME. I gulped as I looked at them all bravely while trying to figure out how I was going to start running.
The one to my frontal left pounced first, so I pulled the trigger on it. It fell dead with a defeated roar, and this was my chance to make the run. I avoided a snap of the jaws to my ankle, picking up in a charge that I stepped over grass and earth, fallen parts of trees and stones, but the beasts were catching up to me, on every corner of my trail. They wouldn't stop until they got me. I fired my phaser at any of them, but while I missed at times, I did send them away from me because they appeared to be afraid of fire.
Wait, my mind suddenly said, why should I kill them? I could have just stunned. Why did I forget? A good officer and science student should never forget anything important as this. I quickly changed the setting to stun, and when another targ leaped at me, missing me and its jaws snapping with failure to catch its prey, my heart was beating a thousand times harder and faster now.
I screamed as I found myself knocked off the legs by one of them, and I fell, keeping hold on my weapon and rolling onto my back to fire - but the phaser was knocked out of my hands. I was jumped on top then, and I was trapped. What was I thinking when I said I could outsmart these things?
Foul breath washed over my senses as fangs were bared, and I closed my eyes, trying not to cry as I braced myself for the inevitable...
And then a mighty war cry brought not only me to attention, but it excited the ferocious targs around me. I gasped at the sight of my unlikely rescuer. "Worf!"
"Didn't think I would let you go alone, did you?" he demanded, raising a dagger and then another, showing the targ he was not afraid of them. He had been following me the whole time, but he also did a great job of making sure I did not know. Now I began to wonder more about why I was so interesting to him, but that would have to wait - IF we both got out alive. He bellowed again and threw himself forward, rolling in a circle before resuming battle stance, drawing both blades up at a targ from beneath the belly, drawing howls of painful death.
I let out a scream of my own when I felt my leg being chewed at the upper left thigh. The pain was incredible, but I did pick up my phaser to aim it at the creature's face, smoking it between the eyes. My leg needed tending to, but Klingons were apparently not as good as Trill or Starfleet medical. Nevertheless, it needed looking at - but Worf's as well as my life were between six wild targ.
I picked myself up as I moved to help Worf, firing at the targ on him, stunning them all to the ground. He was left with one more, and it had him pinned to the earth, but because his wrist holding one remaining blade was held down, he was at the animal's mercy, and further fights brought the snouted face closer to his -
- and my finger pulled the trigger, polarizing the thing at once. Worf grunted and shoved it off of him, and sat up to look at me. I lowered the phaser to my side and smiled; I'd saved both his life and mine. But he still would not smile, and mine was gone as quickly as it came. "Thank you for saving my life?" I asked, but it didn't sway him.
"Did you really think you would last out here when you have no knowledge of the predators in these woods?" he asked as he stood up and walked over to me. I started to limp on my legs but ultimately sat down behind myself so he could kneel in front of me and gently grasp my thigh, shaking his head. "This is going to need medical attention."
"Of course," I gasped gently, holding it together.
"I'll take care of this," Worf said, arising and then taking me off-guard by scooping me up into his arms, carrying me like a bride as we journeyed on a path back south. "Most of my people are not as...skilled in medicine that the Federation has."
I was on the lookout with my own two eyes in case any more targ came along. But if these beasts could be made into house pets, then they should learn to think twice before they came onto an armed Klingon carrying an injured Trill female. Something told me that I was getting ready to know something new about him, and now. "And you have it?" I teased.
"Yes, and that is what makes me different from other Klingons," Worf said calmly. "I have more medical expertise, and therefore I am called upon on occasion to fix a broken limb, repair any internal damage..." He stopped there as if catching himself on why he told me, treating it as a crime committed. Where was the harm in talking to me about this?
I don't know why, but to know Worf was some kind of doctor - was he licensed, actually? - and therefore definitely made him stand apart from the rest of his people was nothing I ever expected to hear. Curzon had said the Klingons might favor battle and glory, but the few you truly identified with had more heart than any other being you would meet in life. Worf certainly was one fine fighter, and he'd saved me from targ; now he was carrying me back to the house to safety. When I was brought in through the doors and set down to walk the way now - supported by him, of course - we were approached by Sirella whom I never even saw coming. Her smile was chilling at its best.
"You had your first taste of the wild," she said. "I trust no permanent damage has been done?"
Her eyes were on the spot in my upper leg where my hand applied pressure, but I was bleeding. There was no warmth or comfort in her gaze, as usual. "It's not like I'll die from it," I answered.
She snorted. "Not without 'proper' care," she said sarcastically, then diverted her attention back to Worf. "Well, it seems you have a new patient to see what your gifts are, if not a true warrior on the battlefield."
I could not stand the way she was treating him anymore. She was meaner than any of the targs I'd faced today. She was also wrong; Worf was a warrior, and there was more to get to know about him. I'd found out only today that he was a...physician. He nodded and grumbled in response before turning to his left and bringing me with him. We were in the infirmary, and I sat on the upward-curved rock slab that was for patients. "So, what are you?" I asked him as I spread my legs; it was not in the inappropriate sense, just so he could examine the job done to me. The pain was still present, but it wasn't terrible. "An unlicensed Klingon doctor?"
I have to say I am so lucky that he doesn't strike, but that look of disapproval did not stop me. "Yes, I am a doctor of sorts," he said as he ran the tricorder to see the extension of the bite into my flesh and muscles. "But as you already know, I am nothing like my people because my mother is distantly related to General Martok. And because of that, Sirella despises me because I am not a true member of the family. She has long been a woman of...strong convictions," he said as he ran analgesics over the exposed wound. I had to take my pants off - yes, I actually took them off because he needed to look closely, and his eyes were not that high to see my underwear spot. He was being respectful of my personal space, which I appreciated.
Nevertheless, I know my cheeks were burning when his hands probed my skin and made sure I could still feel, if my circulation hadn't been cut off. His hands were so strong in appearance and in their meticulous use; they were soft and callous at the same time, and I shivered in spite of myself. Biting my lip and feeling my cheeks burn even higher, I watched him close up the wound with microsutures and then bandage it. I was thoroughly disappointed that his touch left my skin - wait, what?
I had just said to myself that I ENJOYED Worf touching me!
"Jadzia?"
I found my eyes meeting his, and I saw infuriation. "I'm sorry, I zoned for a moment."
He sighed in exasperation. "I would have guessed. Then that means you have not heard me mention that Sirella wouldn't have appreciated non-Klingons marrying into any great family - and hers is included," he said, clenching his jaw. "She despises accepting non-Klingons in general."
So, had I decided to get married and chose this family, she would not accept me as a daughter-in-law. But I had no true desire to get married. "So, Sirella hates you just because your mother isn't Klingon," I said.
"That's right, but there is more, and I cannot tell you everything as it is very...sensitive."
"I see." But that left more questions than answers. I will never get tired of saying this: Worf was not a true Klingon. He had the personality of a human or a Trill, his hands were softer than they should have been - and as precisive as the doctor he said he was - and his mother wasn't Klingon, but it begged how she could be related to General Martok.
Here was what I was going to do: I wasn't going to ask him any more questions straight out, but to see how spending more time around him played out. Whatever Kahless said in my dream, if Worf and I were linked together somehow for whatever reasons, then be damned for just taking it lightly and not doing something about it.
