Chapter 2
Same day
USS Ulysses
En route to Romulus
Deep in the darkness, Kalara stalked her prey, a tight hold on her bat’leth. All of her senses were alert and her muscles tense beneath her skin-tight leotard. Her blood sang the song of the hunt, the song even her ancestors had been unable to tame. Lips curled back, she revealed the sharp teeth that were her genetic heritage as a Klingon. Her head rose and she sniffed the dust-ridden air, searching for a hint of her prey.
She knew that the tunnels wound round towards a central cavern. A few side passages offered places to hide, but she did not think her opponent would be capable of such subterfuge. No, he would be waiting for her somewhere in these passageways. She just hoped that he would not be so crass as to simply be waiting for her in the central cave. She paused again, tossing her head this way and that as she sought out any trace of him on the air. Nothing.
She moved on. There was no natural light in the tunnel system, but she could see perfectly well in the darkness. It was one of many advantages she held over her prey. He would need some kind of equipment to be able to distinguish her in the shadows. Hopefully, that would give him away long before they found one another.
Pausing at a crossroads, Kalara flicked out her tongue, tasting the air. She felt the chalky taste of dust, the stale slick of enclosed air. And something else. A tang of sweat. Coming from behind her.
She spun round just in time to see a shadow detach from the wall and spring at her. Her eyes caught the slightest glint of metal in his hand. How did he get behind me? She grinned and spun again, this time kicking out with her left foot. She caught her adversary on the chin, the impact almost sending her toppling over. She dropped into a crouch as her opponent went down with a grunt. To her surprise, he tucked and rolled, his dk’tagh knife scoring a line in the rock. He flowed back to his feet, his features surprisingly feral as he sneered at her.
Have you been practicing, Damien?
“Is that the best you can do, little girl?” The taunting tone in his voice sent a thrill through her lithe frame.
Steeling her face against the feeling, she began to circle round him, spinning her bat’leth a few times as she danced across the rock. She curled her upper lip, her tongue darting out as her breathing quickened.
“If you want more, come and get it,” she sneered.
To her dismay, he took the invitation, rushing forward with an almighty roar. Oh, Damien. She side-stepped easily, the blade of his knife passing a good few centimetres from her side. She allowed her body to flow around, following him and bringing her bat’leth around to strike him behind the knees. The blow took out his legs and sent him tumbling to the floor. His knife skittered away, lost in the darkness.
Kalara moved quickly, springing from her crouch and pouncing on him. She straddled him, her bat’leth already in motion. She stopped it inches from his throat, one of the inverted blade points pressing against his skin.
“Do you yield?”
To her surprise, her opponent laughed. His oh-so human features scrunched up and his shoulders began to rise and fall. For a moment, Kalara stiffened, her Klingon blood screaming for her to avenge the insult by taking his head from his throat. Then she remembered who this man was and she stilled her hand.
“May I ask what is so funny?” she growled.
He shook his head, his attempts to choke back his laughter failing miserably. As he began to cough uncontrollably, she sighed. Climbing off of him, she sat down on the floor, crossing her legs and staring at him.
“Damien, if you’re not going to take this seriously…” she began.
“No!” He coughed again, then started to giggle. “I do, I do. I swear, I’m taking this seriously.”
She eyed him. “It does not look like it.”
He shook his head, trying to hold back the laughter. “It’s just when you asked whether I yielded, I had a flash of the look on your face this morning when…” He broke off, his laughter seizing him again.
“When what,” she asked, her voice dangerously low. She had a feeling she knew what he was going to say.
“When… when… when that Tellarite girl asked why you had those funny wrinkles on your face.” He began to howl with laughter, rolling around on the cave floor. Kalara did not find the story funny, nor had she that morning. The incident had occurred back on Earth, when they had been waiting to board the Ulysses. She was sure that she had maintained her usual honorable composure during the whole incident.
Still, Damien had one of the most infectious laughs she had ever heard. The sight of him rolling around on the cave floor, covered in dust, his face red, forced a chuckle from her. This single crack in her demeanour only pushed him further, which increased her own laughter. Within moments, the two of them were both on their backs, howling like a couple of Khitomer sabre-wolves.
“Oh God,” Damien wheezed, clutching his belly as his laugh faded to a mere chuckle. “I’m sorry, Kali. I know how important it is for you to teach me the Klingon way. Let’s go again. I promise I’ll do better.”
She felt a surge of affection and attraction for her husband. He may not be a Klingon, he may not be a warrior, but he loved her and he was the only person who could pierce her armour of honor and responsibility. It was the reason she loved him. The reason she had married him despite her mother’s objections.
Reaching out, she laid a hand on his arm. “I don’t much feel like fighting, anymore.”
The tone in her voice was unmistakeable. He looked over her, a cocky grin on his face. He growled. “Kalara, daughter of Elyra, are you propositioning me?”
She loved the edge to his voice. A shiver ran down her spine. Sliding across the rock floor, she swung her leg over his body, then straddled him. She leant down over him, letting her dark hair brush over his face. Then she bit his shoulder. Hard.
“What do you think?”
After that, there were no more words.
xxx
Once they had finished, they lay together on the cave floor. Her body was bruised, her breasts hurt where he had bitten her, while her legs were red with teethmarks. Their clothes lay in a heap beside them. Kalara felt wonderful. We managed to rip almost everything this time, she thought with a smile, her head cradled in the small indentation where Damien’s arm met his shoulder. He’s getting better.
Lying there, in the darkness, she wondered how this had happened. She hadn’t been looking for love, especially not with a human. Her people may have gained in respect for the human race since seeing them fight so bravely during the Occupation, but they still considered them weak in comparison to Klingon.
And this one is not even a warrior, she heard her mother’s voice in her head. He cares for children. A woman’s job!
She couldn’t deny it. Damien was a school teacher. He was also a writer, a novelist who wrote historical novels set before and during the Dominion Occupation. Thanks to his second job, he had been able to take an indefinite leave of absence and join her now on the Redemption. The Restoration-class starship was to be her first command and she was waiting for in the space docks in orbit of Romulus.
Of course, it was also his career as a novelist that had brought the two of them together. Damien had come to Khitomer doing research for a new book. Kalara had taken a month’s leave to spend some time visiting her mother’s estate on the homeworld. She remembered the day that Damien had shown up, dressed in slacks and a shirt, asking whether he could ask her mother a few questions about Korloth, her grand-father, who had been a key figure in the Khitomer Riots. He had been totally fearless before Lady Elyra, which was one of the first things Kalara had noticed about him. He may be a mere human, but only a man with a Klingon heart could stand up to Lady Elyra of the House of Maraka.
Kalara had been so impressed that she had volunteered to show him around the estate and help him trawl his way through the reams of family history that her mother kept meticulously in the House archives. The two of them had discovered mutual interests and a shared love for pre-Occupation Klingon politics. The rest…
“The rest was…” she murmured, more to herself, trying to jog the rest of the human expression from her memory.
“Hmmm?” Damien stirred beside her.
“What is that human expression? The rest is…?”
“What?” he muttered, obviously still half-asleep.
She smiled to herself and patted his side. "Don't worry. Go back to sleep." She squirmed slightly, making herself more comfortable.
Her husband murmured something she couldn't make out, his breathing slowing. Kalara closed her eyes, snuggling up against him. Of course, if anyone ask, she would deny ever snuggling anything. The feeling, though, was very agreable.
She was just drifting off when a voice cut through the darkness, destroying any chance of sleep. "Commander Thomas to Commander Kalara."
Kalara’s eyes snapped open. In moments, she transformed from a wife to a Starfleet officer. She reached across her husband, who groaned loudly, and tapped the comm badge she had hidden in her clothes.
"Kalara here."
"Sorry to interrupt your training session, Commander, but there's a priority message coming in for you. From Starfleet Command."
Any last trace of sleep evaporated. She sat up, seeing her husband looking at her blindly in the darkness. She could see the confused look he wore. The Ulysses should only be five hours out from Romulus. Surely Command could have waited until she arrived to speak to her.
Still, one didn’t keep Command waiting. Especially not if you were just about to be minted Captain of a brand new starship.
"Patch it in down here," she instructed the Ulysses XO, reaching down to grab her robe.
Draping it over her, she moved a few steps away from her husband. Asking for the computer to show the holodeck’s arch, she turned her face away as the bright lights appeared out of the cave wall. Damien groaned again at the sudden brilliance. Hushing him with a waved hand, she moved into the arch, standing as close as possible to the screen. Let’s hope he can’t see the bruises.
When the communication was established, Kalara was surprised to see an elderly Ferengi staring back. She had been expecting Admiral Kovath to be contacting her since he had offered her the position of Captain and would be handling the reception aboard the Redemption. Instead, she found herself face to face with this Ferengi, white hair sprouting copiously from his large ears. Still, from the pips on his jacket, she could see that he was a Vice-Admiral.
"Sir," she said, snapping to attention.
"Commander Kalara?" he peered at her as though through a veil of mist.
"Yes, sir."
"Is it my imagination or are you a Klingon?"
"Sir?" She didn’t know what else to say.
"Surprising nowadays to see a Klingon in the Federation, considering your people ditched us all the moment the Occupation was over. I suppose you're one of those Khitomer Klingons, aren't you?"
She gritted her teeth. Is he purposefully trying to insult me? "Sir. Yes sir."
"Never understood the difference myself,” he said dismissively. “Anyway, as the humons like to say, that is neither here nor there. Of course no one knows where either location actually is. Still… I'm contacting you to inform you of a change in your orders. You are not to report to the Redemption when you reach Starfleet Command here on Romulus. Instead you are to report to my office.”
“Sir! I was told to report to Admiral Kovath aboard the Redemption. Why hasn’t he contacted me directly?”
“Admiral Kovath has other things to deal with. You are to report here to my office, Commander Kalara. Is that understood?”
“Sir. Yes sir.”
“Good.” He peered at her. “What are those bruises on your face?”
She flushed. “I… I injured myself in a training exercice.”
“Well, be that as it may, it would be more fitting for a Commander to show the proper example to those who serve under her. I will see you when you arrive. Command out.”
Before she could say anything else, the screen went black. Kalara stood there a moment longer, just staring at the screen. Her thoughts were in a whirl. There was only one reason she could see for this change of orders and the fact that Kovath had not wanted to talk to her directly. Her anger flared.
"What was all that about?" Damien asked, coming up behind her.
"I don't know,” she said through gritted teeth. “I think..." She trailed off, unable or unwilling to finish the sentence.
"What?" Damien pushed her.
She turned and looked down at him, her eyes blazing. "I think I just lost Redemption."