Free Demands of Honor by Kevin Ryan Page B

hands it was a powerful weapon. Through it, Gorath felt the power of his ancestors, and yet he did something he had never done before on a hunt, or in battle …
    Gorath missed. His body, slowed by loss of blood, had failed him.
    The blade touched only the air in front of Gurn’s face, and then Gorath felt the blows come—one to his right arm, one to his left side. Immediately, he dropped the blade. Yet he kept to his feet. It was a last surprise for Gurn, and Gorath enjoyed seeing it on the coward’s face.
    Gurn was speaking but Gorath did not bother to decipher the words. Everything slowed. Watching dispassionately, Gorath saw Gurn pull his blade back and strike out with its point. Gorath felt the blow as pressure on the right side of his chest. He looked down and saw that Gurn’s blade was actually quite deep inside his body.
    Turning his head up, he looked at Gurn’s face and saw that the coward was still afraid of him, even as he was tasting victory. With a small measure of satisfaction, Gorath found himself falling. There may have been more blows, but Gorath was beyond feeling then. It was dark and it took great effort for him to continue breathing.
    Gorath’s failure taunted him. He had failed his people. He had failed his son. His son. Adon’s image rose in his mind and comforted him. If there was hope for his people, it lay in his boy. He was still young and Gorath had much he still wished to teach him. Yet, in many ways he was wiser than his father. He would grow to be a better man than Gorath himself.
    His son …
    The final darkness came and Gorath took Adon’s face with him on his journey.

Chapter Seven
    I.K.S. D’K TAHG
    KLINGON SPACE
    â€œF IRST OFFICER K AREL, come to the exercise area immediately,”
Captain Koloth’s voice boomed through the intercom.
    Immediately, Karel put his food down and got up from the table.
    In the past, a summons from a commander had always led to a reprimand or worse for Karel. Too often, senior officers tried to lead through fear. Well, as first officer, Karel had changed that on this ship. Warriors worked harder and performed better when they were not constantly worried about how a commanding officer might punish them for a small mistake or minor offense. Of course, Karel dealt harshly with serious infractions. Todo less would invite sloppy performance and, more important, hurt the battle readiness of the ship.
    Fortunately, Captain Koloth shared Karel’s views on treatment of the crew. Of course, that was not surprising given the fact that, like Karel, Koloth was also a follower of Kahless the Unforgettable. With warriors like Koloth at the helm of its warships, there was hope for the empire, Karel thought. Of course, first, the empire would have to survive the next few months and the inevitable conflict with the Federation. That survival was by no means certain, but Klingons like Koloth would give it at least a fighting chance of not only continuing, but continuing with its honor intact.
    Karel entered the training area and was surprised to see it empty, except for Koloth, who was standing in the center of the room. This time of day there should have been at least twenty Klingons perfecting their skills and testing themselves against one another. Something was going on and Karel was immediately alert.
    He noted that Koloth was wearing his uniform, not the white
Mok’bara
clothing both he and Karel wore when they trained together. Finally, he saw that his commander was not pleased. Karel stepped toward him, glancing down to see if Koloth was holding a weapon. He was not, but an accomplished warrior did not need a weapon to kill, and Koloth was an accomplished warrior.
    â€œCaptain,” Karel said, looking into his commander’s eyes. He saw murder there.
    With lightning speed, Koloth’s hand shot out, the back of it making contact with Karel’s face. It was a single blow, not hard enough to injure him.