Thank Kahless the Unforgettable for warnoq, Maltz, science officer of the the Klingon bird-of-prey IKS Katai, thought ashe sipped the liquor from the mug he held, swirling it in his mouth slowly as he put the metal container down on the table at which he sat, alone. Mindful of not drawing attention to himself, Maltz gave a sidelong glance at the rest of the crew of the Katai, sat together, talking, all roaring with laughter.
The name of the planet they were all on was Torna IV. Lying on the fringes between Klingon and Federation space, the world was considered to be of little real value to either side, its inhabitants caring little for law. In the grand scheme of things, it was miniscule...much like Maltz himself. Yet it had been on their patrol route, and so Commander Kruge had selected it for shore leave. The Katai left in orbit, the bulk of the crew had beamed down to this small settlement on the sparsely populated planet. In the tavern, Kruge sat with the rest of his men, his pet grint hound, Warrigul, sitting at his side.
Kruge despised him; Maltz had known that from the day he first stepped onto the bridge to report for duty. Kruge had rotated his command chair round, his eyes narrowing to slits as he observed Maltz wordlessly for a moment, and then growled in a low voice "yaHlIjDaq yIjaH." Then he had turned away and returned to his prior occupation: Feeding Warrigul. It was not so much Kruge's words themselves that stung Maltz, as it was the feeling behind them...that of casual contempt which would be constant. Kruge was a figure of renowned valour in the Klingon Empire, with many victories and glories to his name. His first officer, Torg, was also a warrior of high standing. While Maltz...He had never truly desired a warrior's life. A scientist was what he had wanted to be, and would have become, had his family not pressured him into entering the Defence Force. He had just barely managed to scrape through basic training, which Kruge evidently knew. And knowing that his crewmates would never fully accept him, Maltz was mostly content to keep to himself and do his duty.
"Bartender! Another round of bloodwine!" Kruge bellowed. "Do not keep my men and I waiting!" Glancing up from his barely touched warnoq, Maltz saw the Tornan woman behind the bar shiver slightly as she prepared some more bottles. She was afraid of these Klingons, Maltz could tell; all through the evening they had been slyly watching her, whispering to one another and chuckling. As she approached them now, carrying the tray laden with bottles, she avoided eye contact. She placed the tray on the table, quickly turned to go back to the bar...which was when Kruge caught hold of her arm in a vice-like grip, and said "Stay a while, woman. Pleasure us with your delightful company."
"I have a bar to run," the barwoman answered, shaking and pale.
"The night is late," Kruge said. "Besides myself and my men, there is no one here. So why not enjoy our company?" His men, save for Maltz, laughed as he pulled her onto his lap. "Tell me," he said to her, "have you ever known the raw passion of a Klingon?"
Maltz saw, Maltz heard...yet he did nothing. Torg must have noticed his observance, as he said to him "jumuv'a', Maltz?" For a short moment only did Maltz lock eyes with Torg, then hurriedly looked back to his drink. "warnoqlIj Datlutlh, qoH!" he heard Torg snarl. Why do you not challenge him, a voice in the recesses of Maltz's mind asked him. Why not defend your honour, as a true Klingon should? You know why...because you are a coward at heart...no matter how much you try to pretend otherwise."
"So these are Klingons." Maltz looked up then, as did everyone else present, in the direction of the new voice. They all saw the speaker, what appeared to be a human male, standing behind the bar, evidently having just this moment emerged from the curtained-off back room. His hair was long and black. As he walked around the bar, it could be seen that all of his clothing was black too. He stood in front of Kruge and the Tornan woman, and said "Let her go."
Kruge did not move, just examined the newcomer for a few seconds, and then sneered "Who are you to give orders to a Klingon warrior?"
"I am Kylo Ren," the human responded. "And I again request that you release this woman. I won't ask again, Klingon."
"DaHoH, joHwI'," Regnor, one of Kruge's men, barked. Warrigul, meanwhile, upon the approach of the one calling himself Kylo Ren, whined and backed underneath the table, suddenly afraid. Unusual behaviour from the normally fearless and aggressive grint hound. Maltz was at a loss to explain it...and that made him uneasy.
This, however, seemed not to register on Kruge, who just glared at Kylo, while the barwoman shivered and winced at his grasp on her. But Kylo just glared right back at him, until Kruge shoved the woman away from him, stood up, and commenced pacing around his opponent, and then saying "You challenge me, tera'ngan? Perfect; then I gladly accept." In a flash Kruge had drawn his knife and slashed the point across Kylo's arm, causing a spurt of blood, a hiss of pain from Kylo, and a chorus of approving cheers from Kruge's men. "Hub'egh!" snarled Kruge, holding up the blade stained with the blood of his foe.
Kylo looked at the wound on his arm, at the liquid trickling down the black sleeve. He did not even meet Kruge's eyes; the Klingon commander had been fast, but the human was faster as a small, cylindrical object suddenly appeared in his hand, and from it erupted a narrow, crackling, red-white beam of energy humming with deadly power. Kruge barely had time to gasp before the energy sword passed through his neck, down across his torso, to his hip. All present were assailed by the smell of burnt meat as Kruge's body collapsed into two seperate portions. "yIntagh!" Torg screamed as he jumped up and unholstered his disruptor pistol. Before he could even squeeze the trigger, though, something...some invisible...force...snatched it away from him and into Kylo's other hand. The human looked at the weapon for a second, then aimed it at Torg and fired. Torg's cry ended abruptly as the disruptor beam struck him and ate him away to nothingness. After that, ther was a storm of roars from Klingon throats, all cut off as their lives were ended. The Tornan barwoman peeked cautiously up from beneath the bar, and saw Klyo approach the one Klingon still living, back against a wall.
The blade of energy held to Maltz's throat, Kylo said "Now what will you do?"
Maltz did not move, just looked at the searing redness only an inch from him. His mind was at war with itself; one part wanted to be a true warrior, say "I do not deserve to live," and be cut down on the spot. But there was another part of him, one that horribly dreaded death. Right now, that other part won, and Maltz responded "Spare me...I am at your command, my lord." Even as he spoke, he saw Warrigul creep out from beneath the table and warily approach Kylo. For a brief moment the grint hound and the human merely looked at one another. Then Kylo reached out with his free hand, allowed Warrigul to tentatively sniff it...and then the animal let him scratch his scaly head, symbolising his acceptance of his new master.
Later, when the Katai left orbit of Torna IV, it was Kylo Ren who sat in the command chair on the bridge.