Note: This particular story does contain some sexual content, but this content is not intended as hentai or pornographic material. It is intended solely as art and literature. If you are easily offended by such material or just don’t see any difference between art and hentai writing, then please feel free not to read this story.
Part I
The sun sank into the western sky on Haiphong III and the sky slowly began to darken over the little garage. A young man, glad for his day at Haiphong Academy to be over, walks home tired. This young man looks to be a C’tarl-C’tarl, but has Klingon head ridges. He has deep green eyes (which he inherits from Aisha) and dark, spiky, almost Goku-like hair. The only difference between his hair and Goku’s, however, is this particular person has sideburns, with three hairy extensions coming from each one, making him look slightly British. He turned in to Starwind and Hawking, his home, and opens the door to find everyone engaged in some kind of work. His father Torik (who has recently passed the thirty-five mark) is busy helping Jim on the computer. Aisha cooks dinner for her family, while Melfina makes a pot of stew for everyone else. Suzuka just sat on a couch sipping tea and reading a book, entitled The Art of War by an ancient military leader named Sun Tzu. And Gene, well he was out in the garage repairing a car that had just come in. The teenaged boy walks in for a night of rest and a weekend of fun.
“Mom, Dad,” he shouts as he enters, “I’m home.” His voice is very smooth with no impediment at all, and it seems to convey in him an inner peace of spirit.
Torik comes up to greet his son. “Tybalt, how are you?” he greets, shaking his son’s hand. “So how was school today?”
Tybalt shakes his head. “Boring as hell, dad. I hate that weapons study class. It’s not at all like I expected it to be.”
Just then Aisha steps out of the kitchen to see her son. Aisha is now thirty-four, but still looks like she was eighteen. Her eyes always perk up when she sees her son. “Tybalt, I missed you,” she said to him (this being his first year in school and his parents are quite used to having him around the house), hugging and kissing him as any mother would. Yes, they were quite the happy family, and for Tybalt, the familial relationship didn’t stop at his parents. All of the Outlaw Star crew was considered to him to be a family. For example, he always referred to Gene and Melfina as “Uncle Gene and Aunt Mel,” as if they were married. As a matter of fact, Torik had predicted that they would get married, but that was at least five years ago and it hadn’t happened yet. But still, Mel and Gene had grown close to one another and acted just like a married couple, except they didn’t have sex (but with Gene, no one can ever tell).
“Hi Mom,” Tybalt responded, kissing his mother on both cheeks as he always did.
Now I would like to concentrate a little more on developing the character of Tybalt. He is a very bright young man, with good grades so far in school. It can be seen by anyone that he took after his father the most. As a matter of fact, he considered himself a Klingon, but still held a deep respect for the culture of the C’tarl-C’tarl. His father did the most in bringing him up, molding him into a warrior from the time of his childhood on, teaching him the ways of Klingon honor and valor in battle. But that didn’t mean that Aisha didn’t play an active roll in raising him. She taught him how to transform into his tiger form (with a few embarrassing moments thrown in there on both their parts) and also how to cook the favorite foods of the family. Tybalt was sent to Haiphong Academy on Torik’s suggestion and there met his girlfriend, Oxana Maiuai, a C’tarl-C’tarl, whom he has been dating for a few months now, and already it is expected for them to marry. In essence, Tybalt lived a good life, with few troubles besides homework and school projects.
Now back to the story. Tybalt came back into the living area to play a game of chess with Jim, his “brother.” One would find it hard to see why Tybalt would want to play that game with Jim, since Jim always beat him at it. Each and every time it never failed, but apparently Tybalt was not concerned with winning. He just wanted to have fun. And tomorrow he would have plenty of fun, because he and Oxana were going out for dinner. But just when Jim was about to call checkmate on Tybalt for the, let’s see, fiftieth time, the videophone began to beep off. Tybalt slapped his head. “Always when I’m playing,” he whispered under his breath to himself. He stomped over to the phone, to find that it was one of his father’s old war buddies, Colonel Bu’tlha. Bu’tlha was a big man with a very prominent stomach. The uniform he wore resembled Torik’s in some ways except that his shoulder pads had three rows of spikes on them, ten to each row. His hair was very red, as well as his long beard, which reached down to his chest. He looked very distressed about something.
“Lord Tybalt,” he panted, sounding like the police were after him, “I need to speak to your father.” Tybalt, still very agitated about being pulled away from his game, silently went and got his father, a stern frown on his face.
“Hey Dad,” he called to his father, who was conversing with Suzuka on her book (she was, after all, still his student, and a teacher must always look after his students). But Torik looked up from his conversation to face his son. “Col. Bu’tlha is on the videophone. It sounds pretty urgent.”
Torik got up and walked over to the phone, patting Tybalt on the back for bringing the matter to his attention. Torik saluted the Colonel, but he was reprimanded.
“Captain, we have no time for idle platitudes,” he said frantically. “The Klingon Empire is being assaulted by a squad of Borg cubes. Already they have destroyed three of our outer planets. We will send you a crew to help operate your ship and they will arrive in a week. You must hurry!” The, the screen went black. More thoughts raced through Torik’s mind. Defeating Essau was cake, the Romulan conflict wasn’t even challenging, and then there were other minor skirmishes and battles that he was called to. But the Borg? Bu’tlha must have been kidding. But even Bu’tlha knew that Torik was the most honorable warrior in the Empire, as well as the strongest, and therefore must have been pretty desperate to have called on him. But he must have been stupid to not know that all the Vor’chas in the Empire couldn’t defeat even one Borg scout cube. Then a vision hit the warrior. He knew for a fact that he would die for the honor of the Empire in this battle. How was he going to break this to Aisha? Was Raio’s death sixteen years ago a forerunner to his own? But if he knew for a fact that he would die, Aisha would kill herself. But still, being the honorable warrior that he was, he decided he had to tell her.
Just then, his train of thought was interrupted. “Guys,” Aisha called out, “dinner’s ready.” Gene came in from his work to fill his empty and rumbling stomach. Tybalt ran to the table with wide eyes and a smiling mouth. Aisha had fixed his favorite meal; gagh (live serpent worms). Jim and Suzuka walked in ready for something to eat. When everyone was seated, Aisha served her family while Melfina served everyone else. No one except for the Veska household had any desire to eat their food live. Jim looked over to Tybalt’s plate and saw the red serpent worms wiggling around on it.
“Oh my god!” he shouted in a most audible manner. “Aisha, why don’t you just kill it and cook it?”
An insulted Aisha gave him a good whack on the head. “You’re supposed to eat it live, idiot!” she chided. “It tastes better that way.” Then she caught sight of Torik playing with his food with his knife, still deep in thought over his new suicide mission. “Dear, what’s wrong?” Aisha asked him, looking concerned. “You haven’t even touched your food. Hurry up and eat it before it dies.”
Torik wanted to tell her now, but he figured he had to be more subtle. “I’m fine,” he sighed. “I’m just not hungry right now. I think I’ll take a nap.” He excused himself from the table and walked on to his quarters.
Aisha just shrugged and took up his plate. “I guess that means more for me then,” she announced to everyone at the table. “Oh well, his loss.” She then commenced to shoving the helpless little gagh into her face in front of everyone, finishing the plate in no time. She did not even sense that something was wrong with her husband. When the meal was completed and everyone had their fill, they stayed up a little longer to watch TV and then headed on to bed. Aisha yawned on her way to hers and Torik’s quarters, showing that she was very tired, although she had done nothing the entire day. She walked in, opening the door very carefully as not to awaken her husband, but she found him meditating on the floor. He sat in a half-lotus with his hands together as though he was praying. He looked so serene to her, but she had to bring him to bed. “Torik, are you okay?” she asked him, tapping him on the shoulder.
Torik slowly came around from his trance state. “Huh? What? What time is it?”
“It’s 10:23,” she sighed. “We need to get to bed.” She changed into her night shirt and pulled back the covers for him. “Aren’t you coming?” He just smiled and removed his armor, climbing into bed afterwards. Aisha slipped quickly into a dreamy slumber, but it took Torik three hours to get his mission off his mind, at least for a while, and get to sleep. But sleep and Torik did eventually find each other, although their meeting was not for very long before he woke up from bad dreams.
Part II
Torik had expected the week to pass by slowly, but it was over in a flash. And much had happened in that short of a period of time. Tybalt had spoken to Oxana’s father about arranging their marriage for five years from the time and her father gave him his blessing on it. This made Torik very proud, but it made him sad that he wouldn’t be able to see it. Gene and Melfina were warming up to each other a little more and Torik felt that their marriage was immanent also.
One boring Sunday afternoon, there came a knock at the door. Torik walked up to get it and found five Klingon males dressed in soldier’s outfits. They beat their breasts before him and bowed. “Captain Torik epetai-Veska,” they saluted, “we are prepared to fight and die for you.”
Torik rolled his eyes. “Get up, guys. I’m not the Emperor,” he joked. “So who are you anyway?”
The first crew member introduced himself as Kampak. He was as tall as Torik, with a white beard and hair and a bluish uniform. Quaylon, who introduced himself second, possessed more of an olive complexion and brown hair. Vok, the third crew member, was as tall as Aisha, with blonde hair, unique to any other Klingon. The fourth soldier, Klitlh, was relatively young, only being twenty-five, or somewhere in that area, and his black beard was short. His hair was tied in a braid, much like Torik’s. Kang, the final soldier to introduce himself, was apparently the toughest of the group. His face was scarred three times on his right cheek, and his black hair was shorter than the hair of the others. “We were sent on behalf of the Empire to serve as the crew of the IKV Tovadok B,” Quaylon said to Torik.
“Ummmmm, yeah,” Torik remarked. “Look, guys, we don’t have enough room for five in here. Look over there,” he pointed to the city. “Look for the Crown Plaza over there. It’s about seven blocks down. Go there and get a couple of rooms for yourselves and I’ll pay for all of the expenses.” The crew complied and made their way to the hotel, joking and chatting in Klingon. After meeting the five warriors, Torik knew that this was the time to tell Aisha about the battle. But he would wait until tonight to break the news. If this was going to be their last night together, he wanted to make it the best ever.
Night came slowly to Haiphong. It was probably because Torik was so worried about Aisha’s response to his news. But it came eventually, and the Klingon made sure that he was prepared to tell her. He went back in their room right after dinner again and Aisha finally wondered why. So she walked up to the room to find out. The door to their chamber was closed, and when she opened it, she found something that dazzled her. She stepped in to a room lit up with candles. Flames and candles were everywhere, and what was that smell? It was strawberry incense. She looked on Torik’s study desk and saw the smoke of the incense billowing from the stick that was burning. She turned around only to bump into her mate, who wrapped his arm around her and closed the door with his free hand. He smiled down at her, despite the pain he felt inside. She knew immediately what he wanted, and she was not about to show any resistance to her love. She stood up and kissed him deeply and passionately, both of them savoring each other. Her breastplate fell to the floor when he unhooked it, revealing her naked chest. She unhooked his cape and suit of armor, revealing his muscular upper-body. They stopped to look at each other. She was so beautiful to him in this time in his life. They finished stripping each other and continued kissing. They massaged each other as they went deeper and deeper into ecstasy. Torik kissed and nibbled at her neck, and she was excited beyond any compare. He used his free hand to massage her breasts and the knelt down and took her nipple in his mouth, stimulating it with his tongue. At that she shot into full orgasmic heat, something she hadn‘t felt in a long, long time.
But then her senses returned. Torik hadn’t made love to her in so long. And she thought that Klingons only had sex when they wanted children. So there had to be something going on, otherwise he wouldn’t be doing this. “Torik, wait,” she said, pushing him away from her. “Torik, is there something you want to tell me?”
He just looked at her and smiled deeper. “What does it matter? We love each other, don’t we? So come on, let’s not stop now.” She agreed to that, even though she still had her suspicions. She threw herself on the bed, motioning for him to make his move. He was hard, aroused for her as she lay there naked before him. The dancing light of each solitary candle reflected off her skin, making her more irresistible to the warrior. It was a great pity he had to leave this beautiful woman behind. He laid down on the bed beside her and made the best love to her that they had possibly had. She even had to restrain herself from screaming, it felt so good. After they had their sex, they lay at each other’s sides, their bodies numb from pleasure. Now Aisha had to know.
“Okay Torik,” she said to him sternly. “We did this, and it was great and all, but I know that there’s something bothering you. Tell me, please.”
Now Torik could hide it no longer. He had to speak up. “Aisha,” he sighed, turning to her, “before I tell you this, I want to say that I love you very much...”
“I know that,” she interrupted, feeling very impatient, “but what is troubling you?”
“Aisha,” he began, “this may very well be our last night together.” Already her face softened until it was in utter dismay. “I have been called to another battle, but this time I might not come back. The Borg are threatening the Klingon Empire and I was called to help defend it.”
“Hold the phone Torik,” she interrupted again before he could finish his sentence. “What the hell is a Borg?”
“The Borg,” he explained, “are a race of cyborgs who roam galaxies destroying planets and taking prisoners to be assimilated into their collective. They have wires and machines hooked up to their brains so that they will think inside the collective. They feel no emotions, no pain, no anything, only the urge to destroy. And their ships are even more destructive. Even a small scout ship can destroy a planet with a few shots. No one has ever been able to stop a Borg invasion, and if I don’t then the Empire is doomed.”
Aisha didn’t cry as she was wont to do in these situations. Torik had been called to battle so many times she was used to the thought of loosing him. “Torik, I want to ask you something. I want to go with you. If you die, then I die, too.”
Torik hugged her close. “If that’s what you want, then...”
“It is what I want,” she cried. “I love you. I’d die for you if I could.”
Torik smiled and kissed her on the head. “I have to step out for a while. I have to tell everyone else about this.” Torik got out of bed and donned his armor so that he would be decent in front of everyone. “Stay there,” he joked with his wife, pointing at her as if he were giving her a warning.
Aisha just smiled. “Don’t worry,” she assured him. “I’ll be right here.”
Torik walked out of the room, only to see his son walking to his room for a good night’s rest. Torik grabbed him by the shoulder. “Son,” he asked, “I need to speak to you for a moment.”
Tybalt led his father into his room and shut the door. “So, what do you want?”
“Son,” Torik sighed, “I need to talk to you about something that I need to do.”
Tybalt began to get worried. “Dad, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying, son, that I need to go to battle again, and you might never see me again. You see, I have to face the Borg, and...”
“Dad, wait a minute,” Tybalt interrupted. “What are Borg?”
“The Borg are a race of cyborgs who roam from system to system destroying planets and taking people prisoner to be assimilated into their collective. They travel in living cube-shaped ships that are nearly impossible to destroy.”
Tybalt mood grew very solemn. “And what about mom?”
Torik just sighed and shook his head. “She insists on coming with me. I suppose it’s only fitting, don’t you? I mean, if you were already married to Oxana and you had to go to battle, don’t you think she’d love you enough to want to come with you too?”
“So the both of you are going on a suicide mission?” Tybalt asked in boyish ignorance.
“It seems that way son,” Torik answered. “I can’t say for sure. Now, I need to tell everyone else about it.” Torik patted his son’s head and walked towards the door of Tybalt’s room. When he opened it, Gene fell into the bedchamber. He put on an innocent fake smile, trying his best to throw Torik off.
“Um, hee hee. Hey, Torik,” he said stuttering.
Torik’s noble face darkened in anger. “What were you doing behind there, Gene?”
Gene gave into Torik’s look of anger and did not wish to find himself dead along with the rest of his foes. “Okay, I give. We heard about the battle and everything.”
“But what gave you the idea that you could put your ear to Tybalt’s door and listen? You never did that before.”
“Well,” Gene explained, “the way you told him you needed to talk with him sounded sadder than usual. We figured something was wrong, so we listened in. But seriously Torik, none of us want to see you go on something that you have no chance of winning. You or Aisha.”
Torik knew humans. He was part human. And the one thing he knew about humans was their easy attachment to life and the worry about the lives of others. “Gene,” he said, “I have to do this. The only way I can defeat the Borg is to give of my own life.”
“But what if it doesn’t work?” Jim butted in. “Your sacrifice would be in vain if you got killed and didn’t stop them.”
Torik squatted down so he could face Jim. “Look, Jim. You know Aisha’s coming with me. I’ll have the most important person in my life (next, of course, to Tybalt) by my side, whether I live or die. You know the old saw ’love conquers all’?”
“Yeah,” said Jim, “but what’s that got to do with anything?” Torik smiled. “You’ll see. I have a good idea. But for right now, let’s get some sleep. We leave on the Tovadok in the morning.” Everyone present agreed and hobbled off to their bedchambers, tired yet worried still, for Torik and Aisha both. But Jim went to sleep still meditating on what Torik said. What did he mean by ’love conquers all?’ Did he think that just because they were together on the Tovadok fighting Borg that they would come out victorious? He almost wished that they wouldn’t go. This quixotic idea of Torik’s was too much to bear and he was left wondering what drastic steps if any Torik was going to take.
Part III
Torik’s alarm went off at six in the morning. He slammed his fist so hard on top of the radio clock that it smashed the appliance into tiny bits. He turned to his left and gave Aisha a good shake to wake her up. The both of them were still naked from the past night. “Aisha, wake up,” he whispered. She opened her heavy eyes and sat up, stretching and yawning like a cat. Torik couldn’t help but watch her breasts rise and fall as she woke herself up. She turned to him and smiled, then commencing to kiss and nibble at his neck. But Torik knew what he had to do. “Aisha, stop.” He softly pushed her away from his neck. “You forget what we need to do.” She snapped out of her seemingly happy mood and complied with her husband. Having given each other a bittersweet good morning, they got up and dressed in their usual attire, and the both of them snuck out of their rooms, trying not to disturb the other cohabitants. But the couple saw when they opened their door that the rest of the crew was already awake, dressed only in their nightclothes.
“Torik, Aisha,” Suzuka greeted, “we felt that we needed to say good bye to you both before you went off.”
Torik smiled. “That’s very kind of you Suzuka.” With that, the two lovers gave everyone else a hug and a handshake before leaving first for the Crown Plaza to pick up the crew, and then to the space dock to fly off to battle. Then Torik had an idea. “Jim,” he asked the young computer technician, “what’s the number to the video phone?” Jim ran over to the table on which sat the video phone and a notepad. He returned with a piece of paper, on which was written the number 449-0287-19. Torik pocketed the paper and thanked Jim for the number. “I wanted to contact you all when we got to the scene of the Borg attack. The Tovadok can go pretty fast on warp speed, so we will probably get there within the next two days. Expect our call.” Torik and Aisha then waved their final goodbye to everyone and walked out the Starwind and Hawking door, heading toward the Crown. The street was dark and dismal, with only dim streetlamps lighting the way. The buildings were all dark, since hardly anything was opened at this time in the morning, but thankfully the Crown was opened all day and night. On their way to the hotel, Torik stopped his wife for a minute and looked straight into her eyes. “Aisha,” he said very seriously, “if you want to turn back and go home, the time to do it is now. I don’t want you dying on account of me.”
“Torik,” she replied, turning her head down in a slight state of sorrow, “if I left you now and you died I’d never forgive myself. I have to go with you. I love you so much.”
Torik turned her chin up with his finger and directed his gaze once again to her eyes. “Aisha, I’ve said I love you many times, but I was wrong all those times. What I feel for you is stronger than any love. There’s something different there, something that outranks love, something that there is no word for in any tongue. Every time I’ve left you to go to battle, it’s felt like a sword’s gone through my heart. I always thought that that one time going to battle for the Empire would be my last and you and honest Tybalt, our son, would never see me again. But come on, let’s go. We need to get our new crew out of the hotel and leave.”
“Hold it a minute,” Aisha snapped, “what new crew?”
“Some agents of the Empire came yesterday and said they were volunteering to be the crew of the Tovadok.” Torik quit talking when he saw that they were right in front of the door of the fifteen-story Crown Plaza. They turned into the door to see a reception room looking like the foyer of Versailles. Chandeliers lit with electric candles, gold-plated stairways, a neatly tiled floor, such a rich and lavish setting. Torik led his wife over to the receptionist’s desk, where a dapper human man with black hair and in a dressy business suit stood.
“May I help you, Monsieur and Madame?” he asked in a very irritating French accent.
“Um, yeah,” Torik responded. “Look, yesterday five men named Kampak, Quaylon, Vok, Klitlh, and Kang came in here and probably got a couple of rooms, right?”
“You mean those nasty Klingon soldiers?” the receptionist gasped. “Monsieur, you cannot be in earnest. They have run all of our tenants on their floor out of my hotel. Why would you want to see them?”
“They’re my ship’s crew,” Torik explained, getting very annoyed. “Now, I’d like to know what rooms their in, please.”
The receptionist sighed. “If you insist. They are in rooms 609, 610, and 611.”
“Very well.” Torik took out a good-sized sum of money from his pocketbook and handed it to the man. “Keep the change.” The warrior and his mate then took the elevator to floor six. The level was not as elaborate as the main hall, but it was nice-looking. The carpeting was reminiscent of Romanesque flower vases and nude women and the walls were covered with a rough, off-white paper. Aisha’s ears then picked up a sound. It was singing and drinking. Torik didn’t hear it, but she told him what they were saying and he interpreted as:
And the blood was ankle deep
And the river Skral ran crimson red
On that day above all days
When Kahless slew evil Molar dead.
It was a very popular drinking song lauding Kahless’s fight with the tyrant Molar. The two walked only a short distance before they came upon rooms 609, 610, and 611. The singing was very loud. No wonder everyone else ran off. These guys couldn’t sing if their lives depended on it. The captain knocked on the door of room 609. The door was opened by a very drunken Kampak. His white beard was drenched in bloodwine and he was very unstable. But he collected himself when he saw the couple and bowed to them.
“Lord Torik and Lady Aisha,” he hiccupped. “Greetings to you both. Come in, come in.” Aisha was almost hesitant to step in, but she was dragged in by her large husband. To their surprise, all five crew members were packed into that one room. Empty bottles of bloodwine and nektai (another popular Klingon beverage which burns the insides as it goes down) littered the floor. The tidy beds and perfectly cleaned room was totally in shambles, with the honors bar broken into and its contents consumed. The crew ceased their revelry to bow to Torik and Aisha.
“Men,” Torik announced in a booming, military tone, “we are ready to face our enemy. We may not make it back, but it is a chance worth taking to save our Empire. My wife, Aisha, insisted on coming with us, so here she is. I will now assign to you your posts. Kampak, you will take the tactical station. Quaylon, you will take engineering. Klitlh, you will take communications. Vok, you take the weapons station, and Kang will assist Quaylon in engineering. You have received your briefing. Now, we go to conquer our foes. Long live the Empire!”
The five soldiers raised their arms and shouted in unison “Long live the Empire.” Aisha made the same gesture, but it really is hard for one to tell if she meant the Klingon Empire, the C’tarl-C’tarl Empire, or both. But whatever the case was, the crew made their way to the spacedock, just a few blocks from the hotel.
The soldiers finally made it to the Haiphong space dock. From the terrestrial launch pad they were beamed up to the orbiting space station, where the titanic Tovadok B was reposed. After giving clearance to the guard at the station, they all entered the Vor’cha. The cockpit was a large, circular room coated in red paint. The dim light gave the room an eerie atmosphere, especially to Aisha, who had never been in a Klingon ship before. All of the stations were in place, and towering above them all was the captain’s and first mate’s chairs. Torik decided to let Aisha be his first officer, mainly so they could sit by each other. Torik ordered the crew members to take their positions, which was obeyed the second the order was out of his mouth. Finally, Torik and Aisha took their posts.
“Klitlh,” Torik ordered, “bring up Colonel Bu’tlha on Communications frequency AA-449-201-675.” Torik’s order was obeyed, and as soon as the Colonel answered the call it was brought up on the viewscreen.
“Captain Torik,” Bu’tlha greeted. “What do you want?”
“Colonel, I need the coordinated of the present Borg assault.”
Bu’tlha looked down at a PADD or some such other device and then looked back up after a few seconds. “Their presently heading towards the Chalna system. They will be there in two days.” Torik grinned. “More than I need. Thank you Colonel. Torik out.” The viewscreen was shut off by Klitlh. Finally, it was time to launch. Torik ordered Quaylon to start the spaceship’s impulse engines. The craft began to jiggle, then to move away from the space station. Soon enough, the Tovadok was away from Haiphong and Aisha and Torik away from their family, probably never to see them again. “Aisha,” Torik asked her in his little sympathetic tone of voice, “would you like to take one last look at Haiphong?” She nodded softly. “Very well. Viewscreen on.” On the screen appeared a small sliver of Haiphong. By now the Tovadok was pretty well removed from the planet. “When I first left home to do battle, I too was afraid,” he told her. “But then I came to know outer space more, and ultimately I welcomed it as my friend instead of the bringer of my enemies.”
“I guess so,” Aisha sighed, “but I just hope that your plan works.”
Just as Torik promised, the Tovadok B was at the sight of the attack in two days easy. Torik ordered the number to Starwind and Hawking to be dialed. After ringing only once, Gene’s face appeared on the front viewscreen, with Melfina, Suzuka, Jim, and Tybalt peeking over his shoulder. He was very happy to see Torik and Aisha again, but he still knew what was in store for them. “Hey Torik,” he said somberly. “What’s up?”
Torik knew why Gene was so down. It was partly because of him leaving for this battle, but it was mainly because of Aisha. Gene had only been cohabitating with Torik for sixteen years, but he had been living with Aisha for far more than that. “Hello, Gene,” Torik said. “Listen, so you can watch the battle, we’ve disguised a camera as a piece of space junk. It’ll be remote controlled, so you can see from other angles. Watch.” Torik pushed a button on his armrest and immediately the view on the videophone back home switched to a picture of Outer Space and a large, red planet in the middle of it all. Down in the bottom right hand corner of the screen was a small picture-in-a-picture of Torik, so he could tell everyone what had chanced. Just then a fleet of twenty grayish, cubed ships came from nowhere. They were led by a much larger cube, which was the mothership of the fleet. Torik took Aisha’s hand and squeezed it so hard he almost shattered her bones. It was the Borg fleet, continuing their attack of the Klingon Empire, and inside the mothership was the diabolical Borg queen, the brain of the collective. “Gene, are you getting this?” Torik asked, shaking in his boots from fear.
Gene did not respond. He stood there in utter amazement of the huge Borg fleet, his mouth hanging open. He was so glad that he wasn’t there with them. Just the memory of the fact that Torik and Aisha were going to die was enough to worry him, but these huge living ships heightened his fear.
Suddenly, a voice was heard in the Tovadok’s cockpit. It was a deep, male voice, which was as monotonous as a machine. “We are the Borg,” it said. “Lower your shields and prepare to be boarded. Resistance is futile.” Just after that, another voice was heard, this time it was the voice of Col. Bu’tlha.
“Hold it,” he shouted at the Borg fleet. “I don’t think that Captain Torik is done yet.”
When Torik turned the camera to look behind the Tovadok, he saw a fleet of many Klingon ships, sent to help him battle the Borg. The warrior was ecstatic. “Bu’tlha, what is all that for?”
“Captain,” the Colonel told him, “the Chancellor knew you’d need some help, so he sent us. You may do with us as you see fit, my lord.”
Torik had a plan in mind. “Colonel,” he asked, “would your fleet give their life for me?”
The Colonel looked at Torik in a very strange manner, as if he had said something out of character. “Captain, our loyalty is with you. We will do as you see fit.”
“Good,” Torik said approvingly. “Now, I want you to take half of your fleet and attack the mothership.”
Bu’tlha was very surprised at what Torik had ordered, but he didn’t dare resist an order from his superior. So Bu’tlha did as he was told, ordering half of the fleet to detach and attack. And unbeknownst to the Borg vessels, the Tovadok cloaked when the Klingon ships approached them. But as soon as the ships approached the Borg fleet, one phaser shot from the mothership and the entire half of the Klingon fleet was gone. Torik had to tell the others his plan.
“Gene, Mel, Suzuka, Tybalt, Jim,” Torik said sorrowfully, “I will have to let you in on my plan. I must ram the Tovadok into the Mothership. If all goes as planned, the destruction of the Mothership will shut the other ships down. We must give our lives for this cause.”
Tybalt nervously jumped up to the videophone to try and reason with his father. “Dad, think about what you’re doing,” he shouted. “Who will raise me? Who will watch me grow up?”
Torik just raised his hand to silence him. “Son, the fact is you are grown up. You don’t need me or your mother anymore. You understand the precepts of honor, don’t you?” Tybalt nodded, a stoic, almost indifferent expression on his face. “Then you understand what I must do.”
Aisha turned to her husband. “I’m prepared for whatever I must do,” she said to him, and it was clear to anyone that she was uneasy about this mission.
Torik smiled and took her hand. “Full impulse power towards the mothership. Once we’re close enough, deactivate the cloaking device.” Quaylon obeyed his captain’s orders and the cloaked ship was on its way to a collision course with the Borg mothership. Meanwhile, the Borg were confused as to why no one else bothered to attack. So, they armed themselves and got ready to fire. Gene an the others on Haiphong tried to get them to stop this, but Torik paid them no mind. He just looked Aisha into the eye and put his arm around her shoulder. “You always seem more beautiful to me when danger is immanent. I wonder why that is.”
She began to cry. “Torik, I’m scared,” she cried. “I wanna go home! I wanna see Tybalt again!” Torik held her chin in her hand and looked deeper into her eyes, and then for the last time he kissed her, long and deep as usual. As they kissed, Quaylon began to count.
“Time to collision, ten seconds. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six.” The crew back home wept and cried for them, even though they were not dead yet. “Five, four, three.” At this, Quaylon deactivated the cloaking device. “Two, one, zero.” All of a sudden, back on Haiphong, the image of Torik and Aisha in a passionate embrace was consumed in flames and then faded into static. The image then switched to the external camera, which showed the titanic Vor’cha slamming into the Borg mothership. The two vessels were exploding together until there was nothing left of either of them. As for the other cubes, they began to blow up one by one from the inside, having lost their queen and their collective mind, without which neither the Borg themselves nor their ships could survive. The tears of the Outlaw Star’s crew turned to weeping and wailing. These two precious friends and lovers had given their lives to save the universe and, they were sure, would always be remembered for it. Tybalt went to a nearby stool and sat down, weeping inside for his lost father and mother. Gene saw him and went to comfort the young boy.
“What you father and Aisha did,” Gene said with tears in his own eyes, “was very brave. You should be proud of them.”
Tybalt turned his gaze to the outlaw’s face and smiled. “I am,” he replied. “I’m downright honored.”
Part IV
In the Haiphong cemetery three weeks later, under the very same tree that Raio was buried under, a new memorial stood to the fallen warriors. It consisted of a life-sized statue commissioned by the Klingon Empire and sent to Tybalt in honor of his parents. The statue showed Torik and Aisha together elevating a bathl’eth in triumph. On the base of the statue was an inscription reading “In Memory of the great warriors Captain Torik epetai-Veska and Lady Aisha Clanclan, his wife, to whom there is no comparison other than Kahless himself. The two fought and died not only for the Klingon Empire but for the universe its self. May they fight forever in the Black Fleet aside their ancestors.” The crew gathered around this statue to pay final respects to their honored friends. Playing on a radio as they laid flowers before the memorial was Swing Low Sweet Chariot, one of Torik’s favorites.
Swing low sweet chariot
Comin’ for to carry me home.
Swing low, sweet chariot
Comin’ for to carry me home.
I looked over Jordan and what did I see?
Comin’ for to carry me home.
A band of angels was comin’ after me,
Comin’ for to carry me home.
If you get there before I do
Comin’ for to carry me home,
Tell all my friends that I’m comin’ too,
Comin’ for to carry me home.
Swing low sweet chariot
Comin’ for to carry me home.
Swing low sweet chariot
Comin’ for to carry me home.
Both Gene and Tybalt gave a beautiful eulogy on how they knew the departed. Gene spoke of how Aisha went from being a feared enemy to an annoying cat girl to a good friend. He also talked about how he and Torik met and how their friendship and trust of one another developed overtime. Tybalt spoke of his parents as always together. Anything they did they did with each other in mind. No love, he said, could ever match up to their truest of love.
That night, Gene and Melfina sat outside the garage to watch the stars come out. There was a question he had wanted to ask her for so long. “Mel,” he asked, turning to her. “Um, I was wondering if you would, um, well, Torik and Aisha have been gone for almost a month now and I think, well...”
Melfina silenced him with her finger. “Gene, why didn’t you ask me this years ago? Of course I’ll marry you!” Just as they drew towards each other for a kiss, they both heard a voice. It sounded like a deep, slightly English voice, one they had heard before.
“This is how the dead man comes,” it said. “He and his wife. He finds that as one two lives end, two more start over. Isn’t that a coincidence?” Gene and Mel turned up only to find Torik and Aisha standing right in front of them, except they were transparent and luminescent.
“Torik! Aisha!” the new couple shouted almost in unison.
“Now don’t get too excited about this,” Aisha said. “We’re just fine the way we are, but we’re gonna have to leave soon. But we have something to tell you. Um, Torik, you tell them.”
Torik just half-smiled at her. “Aw, fine. Gene, when you and Mel get married, I want you two to adopt Tybalt as your own son. He was right. Even at his age he needs a mother to nourish him, a father to teach him. Gene, do not disappoint me. Raise my son as I would. We love him very much and want only the best. Got that?”
Melfina smiled at the spirits. “We promise to take care of him,” she assured them. With that assurance, Torik and Aisha returned to the sky. And Gene and Mel both saw the both of them battling enemies alongside each other in the black fleet.
To shorten the last of the story, Gene and Mel were married a month later. They legally adopted Tybalt as Tybalt Veska Starwind. He never forgot his lineage, but loved his adopted parents as if they were his natural mother and father. Soon, Tybalt himself married his sweetheart Oxana and had three children (two girls and a boy) of his own. Tybalt later returned to Kronos, his ancestral homeland, to become a soldier and, later, to be Chancellor of the Empire. And all the while Torik and Aisha were looking down on him and his family smiling. They never left him or the crew of the Outlaw Star, and their presence was always felt by everyone. And as Torik once said: “Life goes on throughout time. Death is just a minor irritation, for life truly never ends.”