By Nathan Warner
Two Klingon Bird of Preys prepare to leave a welcome respite in paradise for the Cardassian front during the Dominion War
Captain Korgh started awake to the sound of klaxons going off over his head. He bolted upright, drawing his blade with the smooth instinct achieved only through repetition and practice. What had happened? Had the Jem'Hadar boarded his ship while he was sleeping? Were they under attack by Dominion ships? Instead of the dull red illumination of a Klingon ship's interior, his eyes rested on the dark features of a forested vista. The air was fresh, cool, and damp with blankets of mist slowly rising to great the morning. Korgh glanced around and saw that he was lying in a meadow clearing - one of a dozen Klingon warriors still slumbering away. The fog of dreams melted away and he remembered. They had sought refuge on this uninhabited planet to make repairs after getting caught in heavy fire while destroying a Dominion troop convoy. They were only out of commission for a couple days, but the war was moving fast, and last night he had received a fleet-wide transmission from Chancellor Martok - orders for all ships to join the fleet at the Cardassian front. For better or worse, this was a day that would forever change the face of the Alpha Quadrant.
Korgh thoughts were interrupted - he was suddenly aware of an odd "swishing" sound, but before he could get up, the air was rent by deafening trumpet blasts and a flock of Fluvial Cranes soared overhead, low enough that Korgh could have made breakfast of them had he reacted quickly enough. As it was, the huge birds gained altitude and banked away from the dark menacing shapes of his ship, the Krig'val, and its sister, the Dor'gal - two Bird of Preys roosting on their talons in the eastern field behind Korgh. The Captain sheathed his blade and sighed wistfully after the call to the wild, which woke the very blood in his veins. What he would have given to spend this fine day hunting the game of this untouched planet, but it was not to be - honor and glory would have to be satisfied instead. No self-respecting Klingon could have slept through those cries of primal nature, and Korgh found his crew had stumbled up from slumber - many with weapons drawn and the hunt-lust glinting in their eyes. Several of the younger Klingons had started prowling after the flock, when Korgh called them back.
"Reeg, Ta'Val! Let them go!" he barked, "Remember your duty!" The young warriors started at his voice and turned toward him with daggers still clutched fiercely in their hands. He pointed to their naked blades.
"You'll have need of those soon enough," he said, "Now, put them away!" Korgh turned from them and attended to some kindling for the dying fire. An aged warrior with silver dreadlocks had stoked it alive again and was preparing a large pot of Klingon coffee.
"Rhamma, find your water for the Raktajino from the mountain stream," Korgh said, patting him on the back, "No replication this morning." The old warrior smiled his approval at the traditional way and headed off to the dark forest wall where a stream ran nearby. Beside the fire, Reeg and Ta'val pulled out from the grass the carcass of the hulking River Bear that Korgh had brought down last night, and which had made a feast. The creature had fearlessly ambushed a hundred of his men by the stream and had left them all with scars to remember the battle. Finally, Korgh had thrown himself between the bear's paws as it stood on its hind legs, and plunged his Tik'leth blade through its heart. The beast that had wanted them for dinner was now to serve them as breakfast. He stroked the scar it had given him down his cheek and thought about how it had fought to the bitter end and wondered if the Dominion might prove a similar foe.
Raucous shouts of greeting broke into his thoughts as a rugged party of Klingons appeared out of the gloom nearing their campsite. They were the crew of the Dor'gal come to partake of breakfast with them before the sun had opportunity to break above the horizon. Hearty greetings were exchanged with many a headbutt and slug-fest as they tore strips of meat from the bone of the bear and fed until they were full. Before they were finished, Rhamma had returned and soon they drank steaming Raktajino from their mugs, feeling its energy coursing through their veins. Already in the east, the glow of the sun was growing behind the mountain ranges.
Korgh strode to the head of the fire and raised his mug - all the other warriors followed suit.
"Remember this morning," he said, "This dawn will bring to us the glory of battle - a great battle. Many of us here will be in Stovokor before this day is done. Others will have done deeds worthy of song that they themselves will be able to sing into old age and hold their heads proudly at the gatherings of their houses. May we make the Dominion rue the day they entered the Alpha Quadrant!" A deafening roar split the morning stillness as they raised their cups in toast and caught the first morning light, like fire resting on torches in their hands.
"Take to your ships!" Korgh barked, and the warriors turned like the armies of old and hurled themselves toward their vessels, boarding them madly as if they were a siege party. Korgh reached down and pulled up the pelt of the River Bear, wrapping it around himself as a baldric. He would wear it into battle to remind himself of the fierce struggle it gave him and his warriors - the thrill of fear and joy of conquest.
He glanced around the aching beauty of this pristine world, set so near the front-lines of their devastating war against the Founders. One day he hoped to return and hunt up into the mountains with his crew, but not today. He strode towards the Krig'val as it slowly woke from slumber. Behind it, the Dor'gal roared to life and rose into the sky, like an ancient predator, testing its wings against the morning. Korgh climbed up the ramp of his ship and made his way to the bridge, bathed in the familiar reds and oranges of the consoles. He sat in his chair and glanced out the viewscreen just as the sun finally broke over into the full meadow, washing everything in its soft red glow - perhaps an omen to the blood yet to be spilled this day.
"Depart!" Korgh commanded. The ship shuddered beneath him, leaping into the sky. It banked gracefully over the alpine woods and arching up toward the firmament. Already, the Dor'gal was a small speck in the sky, but nothing that the Krig'val's glowing impulse engine couldn't overhaul.
"Catch them up," Korgh growled to his helmsman, "Or there will be no glory left for us!" With a deafening roar over the meadow, the battle-tested Bird of Prey tore up into the atmosphere and vanished behind the blue canopy into space, on its way to help conquer Cardassia and push the Dominion back into the abyss of space.
