The Final Lesson by SuSvaj

"By the hand of Kahless, will I ever stop shivering?" the woman thought to herself. The muscles in her arms and legs, which she had spent her life to date training and strengthening had suddenly decided not to cooperate with her. She sent a quick mental command to her muscles asking them to kindly stop this nonsense and calm down, but to no avail. In truth, to anyone watching her, the chattering of her teeth would have been barely noticeable. However to her it seemed as if her whole body vibrated with an uncontrollable life of it's own. Still, she knelt in the damp grass keeping as still as possible, hoping to show no hint of how uncomfortable she really was. All things considered, she made an impressive site. The ridges of her forehead were small, but sharply defined, and seemed to somehow give her the look of elegant nobility. That combined with her dark gemstone like eyes often prompted others to tell her that she was beautiful, a fact that had never been of much importance to her. She wore a tunic of thick, dark leather which bore the crest of the noble house of her birth. The belt around her waist held one clearly visible dagger, however two other not so easily seen knives were hidden elsewhere in her costume. Her long dark hair was fixed into a tight braid which ran down the length of her back, and nearly touched the ground behind her. She was young, about nineteen years old as such things were measured on her world. But this was not her world, and right now she was acutely aware of that fact. Despite her peoples many boasted strengths Klingons have a comparatively low tolerance for the cold. However, at this moment she could not tell weather her shivering was due to the biting chill of this planet‚s early morning air, or because of the fact that, no matter what today‚s outcome was, things would never be the same for her again.

On the ground in front of her lay a large curve bladed sword which was the weapon of her choice. This particular bat-leth was some three hundred fifty years old, and had been passed down in her family for six generations. Since she was very young she had heard innumerable stories associated with this sword and how it carried with it the blood and honor of her house‚s many victories. Of course, there was nothing unusual about that. The walls of her family‚s ancestral home were covered with ancient weapons, each with it‚s own story to tell. But her favorite tails bravery and valor had always included this blade. No doubt that was the reason why she had asked to be allowed to use it on the day she was first given permission to study the warrior arts. And since that day, she had practiced with it, and done her best to live with it and make it as much a part of her as was her own arm. And yet, now that this day had come, it seemed that she hardly recognized it. It no-longer looked like a piece of crafted steel, but was something well--more. It was as if the soles of all of her ancestors who had held this blade were somehow present within it, and were watching her. As though they were waiting to see if she would prove herself worthy of this blade and of her blood, or if she would dishonor both. "No!" she inwardly chided herself. "such thoughts are of no use now!." She forced her attention away from the cold, and the prying eyes of her ancestors and focused on the matter at hand, which happened to be a pair of living eyes which at this moment were studying her just as intently. Across the clearing from the woman knelt the owner of those eyes, the eyes of her enemy.


Once when she six years old, the girl‚s family had taken her to tour the famous monastery in the city of QInlat. There she had slipped away from her mother‚s supervision for nearly an hour, and gone wandering through the seemingly endless corridors of the ancient building. When her mother finally found her, the girl was standing alone in the main courtyard staring up at a large winged gargoyle which was in turn staring back down at her. Her mother‚s initial anger turned to curiosity and she asked her daughter what it was that she was doing. The girl responded telling her mother of her belief that the demonic looking statue was deliberately trying to intimidate her, and that she was determined to stare it down until it looked away first. Curious to see just how long this would go on, her mother allowed the girl to try, but the impatient child lost the contest after only a few minutes. She left the monastery that day with a disturbing feeling of anger mixed with fear. She had failed to defeat her stone adversary, an adversary that never attacked her, and did not need to. It had beaten her without moving. Of course both her parents told her that such an idea was foolish. It was only a statue carved from lifeless stone and could not harm her nor could it want to harm her. But to an imaginative child such rationalizations meant little. Somehow, she thought, that demon had known that she could not bear it‚s gaze. It knew her fear and had exploited it. For years there after the girl had recurring dreams of the motionless demon that seemed to be able to peer into her soul. Eventually, as she grew up, the dreams went away. But perhaps those feelings had never really gone away. Because now she had an eerie sense of deja-vu as she knelt under the gaze of the warrior who was her opponent.

The details of his features where slightly obscured by the thin mist that hung in the brisk morning air, but she could see them well enough. Well enough, she told herself, that she could react to his attack if it came--when it came. His garb was similar to hers. His tunic was of thick dark leather that had obviously seen it's owner through many a difficult battle. Although no longer a young man, he was large, carried a sturdy frame and had powerfully built arms. His hair was a thick main that fell over his shoulders and down his back. His hair and shaggy beard, at one time jet black, were now tinted with streaks of gray. His face, on the other hand, remained something of a mystery. The girl had been taught to watch her enemies eyes for any signs of intent, or weakness, but she could not see his eyes well enough to make any such judgments. And, unfortunately for her, the rest of the man‚s face, a hard mask of stone, was no more telling. His forehead bore a proud crown of thick cranial ridges. There was also a barely visible vertical scar on the left side of his face. Running from just above the eyebrow down to the cheekbone. It was clearly the signature of a blade that, at some time in the past, had nearly robbed the warrior of his left eye. All of this added to a general look of fierceness, but there was another less tangible aspect of the man, something that no veil of mist could obscure. There was a sense of icy calmness about him that enveloped him like a second suit of armor. It was the result of years of facing danger, and living through it. This confidence stood in sharp contrast to the uneasiness felt by his younger opponent; a mere novice by comparison, who was still doing her best to maintain her outward composure. In front of the man lay the weapon he had chosen for this battle. It was as a mek-leth, a short bladed single griped cousin of the bat-leth. There was little question in the young woman‚s mind as to why he had made this choice. His mastery of this weapon was well known. In fact, he was well skilled in most of the traditional Klingon weapons. Even bear handed he could give any enemy the worst day of his life. But his skill with the mek-leth was almost legendary. This man and this blade were a combination to be feared.

The two warriors knelt in silence, facing each other for, what seemed to the young woman like hours. Had it been hours? No, it could not have been more than twenty or thirty minutes since she had arrived here at this designated site. At least that‚s how long she thought it had been. She really could not be sure. This planet had a rotation which was considerably faster than that which she was used to, and it was reeking havoc with her sense of time. The sun, which had been a glowing red ember on the horizon when she arrived, was now brighter and noticeably higher in the sky. Dawn was over, it was now officially morning, and the world around the two warriors began to come to life. As the sun continued to rise higher in the sky, the air lost it‚s chill and the mist started to vanish. In the distance, the cries of what the girl guessed must be some kind of indigenous bird broke the silence. Amidst the trees, on the edges of the clearing, rustling sounds could now be heard as small animals began to forage around for their breakfasts. The girl found these subtle noises strangely comforting. It was as if the planet were trying to reassure her that she was not as alone as she felt. Or perhaps the comfort came simply from the fact that unlike her opponent and the pesky spirits of her ancestors, these animals had better things to do than to scrutinize her every move. She began to feel calmer.

This short lived serenity was suddenly broken, however, by the sharp scream of an animal from behind the trees, somewhere to the young woman's left. Not far away, a predator‚s search for his morning meal had just come to an end. In reflexive response, the young warriors eyes snapped in the direction of the startling sound. It had distracted her for only a few seconds, but as she been told many times over, a few seconds of lost concentration could be fatal. She never saw her enemy come to life, but before she could turn her head back to his direction he had launched himself to his feet and was in motion. Her head sapped forward again as she caught a glimpse of her now very animate enemy. Cursing herself for her lapsed attention she rolled forward with as much speed as she could muster. She barely managed to clutch the batleth but was soon on her feet with sword in hand, ready to repel the imminent assault. Only--.there was no assault. In fact, there was no enemy. Her foe had seemingly vanished.

While her brain was reeling to process these strange events, she frantically searched the clearing with her eyes for any sine of the man. She did not see him, but she did see the disturbed branches of some nearby trees which were waving back and forth as though someone had just gone through that way in great haste. At that moment her rational mind finally caught up to current events. He had not attacked her, but had fled into the forest. This realization left her momentarily stunned. Of course she knew that he had not run away from her, but rather had preferred to take their battle into the woods. This was not at all what she expected. She had anticipated an open battle there in the clearing. But she seemed to have little choice in the matter. Unwilling to let the enemy get to great a lead on her, she tucked the batleth close to her body and ran into the forest where he had disappeared. She did not know exactly what to expect now, but it was not over yet..


End of part I

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