PhaHks Series
by GenieVB






Veexow did not know who had betrayed her. None of the family servants and she 
would stake her life on that. Generations of them had been born and raised in 
her very house. Loyalty was their seal. 

But she had enemies she supposed. Could think of no particular names. 

Evidence said she did have them though. The evidence of the intercepted 
communique' that Rhengar - praise him! - had brought to her attention. They now 
had to flee. 

A picture of her father's disapproving face appeared before her eyes, but she 
quickly banished it. 

She was her fathers daughter. Same line of jaw and same determination when it 
was set. 

Choose a path and do not deviate. 

Make a choice. No regrets. 

On one of her fist missions as an Imperial Fleet Commander, she had followed 
that axiom. 

<<What the Klingon Scout ship was doing in Romulan Territory, she did not know. 

But they had not responded to her attempts at communications. Once, twice, three 
times she had given them the opportunity to explain themselves and they had 
remained silent. 

Her own vessel, though not a Bird of Prey, easily outclassed the Klingon ship's 
weapons. 

Then she had made one flying pass. Then another as a final warning. Then she had 
performed an un- common action for a Romulan ship, and had fired a warning shot 
over the other vessels bow. 

The Klingon ship had remained silent but armed and ready to fire. 

So she had given the order to fire upon it, not to destroy but to cripple. 

And cripple it she had. 

The final count was an unrepairable hulk left to drift and twenty-one, including 
the captain, of the twenty-nine aboard dead. 

Seven officers and one small child, who had all been delivered to the nearest 
Klingon outpost. 

The scout ship should have responded. 

But their communications had gone down prior to their encounter with the Bird of 
Prey. 

A mistake but an honest one.>> 

Sometimes it haunted her. 

But, choice made. 

No regrets. 

*** 

--------------------------------------------------------------------- PhaHks 
Part III 

ON "KOL'KEK". YEARS FOUR THROUGH EIGHT. 

"When are we going back?" 

PhaHks demanded of Veexow as soon as she stepped foot into his rooms. 

Four years and a month together on her world. 

Now here they were, having just arrived at Kol'keK and he still spoke of "going 
back", "going home". He was not, she knew, really referring to Romulus. They 
were both talented pretenders. 

Rubbing his face, "I've been stuck in this room for days, I can't stand being 
cooped up." When she didn't answer his question. 

"PhaHks, be patient." 

*Fucking story of my life*. "You keep saying that." His accusation being that 
she asked it of him a lot but rarely told him why. 

Veexow came and took his hand, leading him to the exit. "Come. You need to eat. 
Then we will speak." 

She led through the door that until that moment he had been forbidden to pass. 

Then down one darkened corridor after another. Through a large, wider chamber, 
the walls decorated with weapons that seemed to consist of blades. 

Lethal looking, rip-you-wide-open-with-one-swipe blades. Some had the tell-tale 
dark crust of old blood still on them. Someone had forgotten to wipe. 

He thought it was stupid of her to show him such handy items. If he could get 
his hands on them... 

As though reading his mind, she said: "All those implements are permanently 
fastened in place." 

Bitch. 

"What are these? Souvenirs?" Who would he have used them on anyway? 

Single blades, double blades, serrated blades, lots and lots of blades....he 
swallowed, trying not to think of what had used them to disembowel who. 

When he was nervous, Veexow knew he often used his acerbic wit to hide it so 
ignored his comment. 

He looked around curiously as they entered a softly lit, cheerier room that had 
one long, heavily food-laden table... 

...Plates! 

PhaHks sat near Veexow and examined the utensil before him. A shallow, normal 
looking earthenware bowl. 

The trays of food were another matter. They looked scarier than the halls of 
Jack the Ripper specials through which they'd just traveled. 

PhaHks examined, not too closely, one bowl that held something moving. Little 
teeny black tentacles, dozens of them, clawed the air. 

"Cooks day off?" he remarked. 

"It is supposed to be eaten live." Veexow explained, not having completely 
fathomed his humor. 

He nodded. 

No EFF-ing way was he eating dinner tonite. 

Instead he looked around the room. 

With the exception of dinner, the room was pleasant enough. 

Great colorful curtains hung ceiling to floor, carvings of nothing he recognized 
filled the corners. Low, flickering lanterns (bonafide flames) cast soft 
fire-glow over their table and them. 

The room had a comfortably used look and feel to it. Its presentation was 
very...mediaeval. 

...Sorcerers have passed this way. 

He glanced at Veexow who had, during his distraction with their surroundings, 
chosen a few dishes for herself and piled her own plate high. 

A yellow glow lit tiny fires in her black eyes. Her aristocratic nose cast a 
long shadow over her high cheekbones. Black and grey streaked hair brushed back 
in a severe and unflattering style, she looked like a music video gothic. Or 
maybe... 

...In Veexow's alien sternness, PhaHks had yet to find feminine beauty. But now, 
in the warm dance of light across her stone carved features, a kind of old world 
esthetic emerged and suddenly her face was the face on the bow of a ship, or a 
witch un-justly condemned to burn. He played with it absently for a moment. 

He could see her wrapped in a royal rug, being secretly ferreted into the 
bedroom chambers of Anthony - 

- Shaking his head. Yeah. Right. 

Phahks scrutinized all the dishes on the heavy table. Finding nothing that 
looked remotely palatable, he spoke instead. 

"So where are we *now*?" 

Veexow heard the defeat. 

"We will not be here for long, PhaHks." She tried to sound more assured than she 
felt. "Here." She passed him a plate of his old standby. "I had my friend's 
servant fix this for you. I told him you would be unable to eat most of this 
food." 

"Try *all* of it. And I'm unWILLing." 

She raised an annoyed eyebrow. He never passed by an opportunity to assert his 
independence. "I don't know when we will be able to go home." 

PhaHks had never personally referred to her large prison house as home. 

"But," she continued, "Kol has kindly invited us here to stay as long as 
required." 

PhaHks rubbed his eyes, suddenly they were burning with fatigue. He didn't 
remember sleeping badly lately. "Kol? That's your friend?" 

"A very old and trusted friend. You will be safe here. You will meet him 
tomorrow." 

Thought of the death-knives. "Can't wait." He closed his eyes. Nibbled his 
vegetable squares. Chewed a protein cake. 

She recognized the sarcasm. "Kol is not one to be crossed, PhaHks. He and I, we 
are old...companions. You *will* show him respect." 

Like I have a choice? And skipped out on the rest of her words and her attempt 
to counsel him. It all came down to his being where he didn't want to be. 

"Surprise!", she, in effect, was saying. "You'll get used to it. You're safe 
here. Not FREE, of course, but fed, watered, fucked and tucked in every night." 

Nothing stayed the same long enough to get comfortable. Not that he was really 
at all *comfortable*, anyway. But nothing ever got beyond feeling abnormal 
because whenever he closed his eyes too long on the unfolding of his life, 
Hellbitch changed the reel. 

Veexow was still talking. "...but you will be staying in my chambers for as long 
as we are here." 

That he heard and stopped chewing for a second. Shit. "What the hell for?! Why 
can't I just stay where I was?" 

"I didn't ask why, that is the way Kol wants it. He may be old and befuddled but 
we are guests." 

No goddam privacy. No fucking time alone to think. 

And no way now to sneak out and explore the place and maybe find a permanent 
exit. 

She'd probably anticipated that he'd try it, the buddy-system actually being HER 
idea. 

Lying bitch. Time to stick a needle in her. 

"He probably knows you're humping me like a rabbit." Didn't blink. Waited... 

Veexow stared coldly. "I don't care what he knows or what he thinks he knows. If 
Kol says we should share a compartment at night, then we will. He will have his 
reasons. He may be a Klingon but he's no fool." 

PhaHks didn't bother asking her to define exactly what a "cling-un" was. 

"And I have not heard you protesting our mutuals, PhaHks," her voice cold, "be 
careful what you say to me." 

There. Pay back. He'd pissed her off. It wasn't much, but it made him feel a bit 
better after her unsolicited rearrangement of his downtime. 

He wanted to comment that her attentions "usually relieved his boredom" but 
decided not to press his luck. His jaw was still sore from the two blows she'd 
already delivered recently. 

Sometimes he just couldn't hold back and had to let fly what he was thinking. 
And, equally, she just had to haul back and make it plain what she thought of 
what he had let fly. For every action, an opposite and equal reaction. 

Universal truths. 

"I'm tired." He muttered and he was still feeling the effects of the drugs she'd 
made him eat. 

One pill and a brand new set of furniture. He was so tired. 

But she was right, he did enjoy the sex. Dysfunctional to the last. 

"I'll summon Rhengar. You don't know where to go." 

"I'll remember." he said, barely managing to keep his voice level. 

She considered. "Very well. Through that door, down three archways, left, down 
to the end, right, door at the end." 

He rose to leave. 

"And PhaHks. I expect you to be there when I arrive." 

He wanted to hit something. "I. *said*," emphasizing each word as if to an 
imbecile, "I. was. tired." He pushed his chair back, rather too harshly, it 
skidded and almost tipped over. 

Veexow watched him storm away. She knew he was angry and wanted to go off and 
seethe for a while. And she knew he was furious at the sleeping arrangements. 

Yes, Kol had mentioned the idea, not insisted, only mentioned. But Veexow had 
taken one look at Kol's sober expression and had made the decision herself. 
PhaHks must be prevented from taking night excursions, that much was true. But 
her reasons were less selfish than he supposed. 

It was merely precautionary. 

Kol had said nothing except in his tone, so the insurance of having PhaHks stay 
in her quarters was probably not necessary. 

But she wanted him safe. 

"Veexow." A rumbling, slightly slurred baritone caressed her ears. 

She turned to find her old friend and host grinning at her from behind and rose 
to greet him. "Kol." 

He was older, fatter, greyer and his breath smelled of yesterdays drink. But she 
kissed his lips, her heart remembering his youth. 

They parted. 

"You are as ravishing as ever, Veexow." 

"And you as smooth of tongue as ever." She strolled to a side table and poured 
herself a small mug of his ever present ale. He was already holding one. "I see 
you still try to hide your head, Kol." 

He frowned, it had always been a sore point with him. He'd been born with only 
two, tiny ridges, a throwback to the days before the last, great purge where 
after the ancient breed of Klingon had genetically emerged. 

Kol had always brushed some of his great mat of hair over the top of his head 
from back to front, holding it there with a piece of family jewelry. After all 
these years, it suited him. 

"And you still see fit to state the obvious, Veexow. You haven't changed." 

"You would be disappointed if I did." 

"Disillusioned." He smiled at her, baring sharpened teeth. "The old reliable 
things are still the best things." 

Veexow chuckled. He had meant himself. "I am not here to be seduced, Kol. We 
will probably not be staying for long." 

"And what have you got yourself into, Veexow?" 

She turned, took a sip. "I thought it wise to vacate Romulus for the time 
being." 

"You mean you didn't want to be caught holding your ill-gained booty." 

The ale burned her throat. "My reasons-" 

Kol walked away from her. "Your reasons, your reasons." Turned back. "Your 
*obsession*, Veexow. You always did have..." He leered, "...exotic appetites." 
Waved a hand to her. "You need not lie or make excuses, I heard your little 
one's comment. He is no fool either, obviously." 

Kol slapped his own drink back in one swallow. "And I am not as befuddled as you 
seem to believe. You may keep him here, obviously, since I have invited you. I'm 
sure you still have access to all your family riches though I suppose the second 
chosen heir to your fathers land has moved in, now that you are among the 
Unwanted." 

Veexow's face thundered. It was a term the Upperclass used to describe those 
outside the Law. Criminals. 

He saw her and changed the subject a bit. "But what will you do with him?" 

She frowned. "What do you mean, what will I DO with him?" 

Kol eased his bulk into the chair she had vacated moments before. "I mean, what 
will you do with him? He's human. He's not suppose to be alive, you're breaking 
your own Law in keeping him so: What. Will. You. Do. With. Him?" 

She straightened. "I will keep him-" 

"-Keep him?? Keep him where? Under your pillow?" 

"I was going to say, I will keep him safe!" 

"Oh, I see." He nodded in exaggerated comprehension. "And how will you do that?" 


Veexow stepped up to Kol. Stood over him. 

It fazed him not at all. 

"Why don't you just say what is on your mind, Kol, and cease your ridiculous 
comedies?" 

"The human will be discovered and he will be killed. Is that plain enough?" 

"He will not be if..." 

"IF what? If you convince all your servants, all *my* servants, if you pay 
enough over, that they will ignore the risk to their lives and honor and look 
away? Do you think we all can be bought, Veexow?" 

"You wouldn't-" 

"No. No, *I* wouldn't, I have no loyalty to Romulus! But someone else. You've 
always loved power, Veexow. In our lifetime, I've watched you wield it like a 
Romulan saber. You were glorious. But to some, honor is before power and 
eventually, somewhere, sometime, someone will tell the story of your little 
human to the right Romulan and your PhaHks will die." 

Veexow had forgotten how this Klingon used words. Most Klingons - warriors - 
acted, then spoke. Kol was a Sacrementarian, he had always spoken (usually a 
great deal) and rarely, if ever, acted. 

"I will not allow that to happen." 

Kol raised himself up. Sighed. "You haven't asked little PhaHks whether or not 
HE wants to be here, I assume." 

Veexow did not know how Kol knew the circumstances of her discovery of PhaHks. 
"He would have died." 

"So, instead you rescue him out of one cage and put him in another. Human's, 
Veexow,.." He was pouring himself another drink. "...do not do well in 
captivity." He searched the table top for his favorite spice and added a 
generous pinch. 

"He has adapted." 

"That's because he hasn't yet figured out how to escape. Or doesn't have the 
courage or the will to cut his own throat. But if you think he has stopped 
thinking about either, you are more fool than I." 

"Of course I know he wants to leave. But I know what he does not and that there 
IS no escape for him." 

"None that you would ever divulge, no. But he, of course, doesn't know that." 

"If this is your concern over my ability to control him, you can relax. PhaHks 
obeys me." 

"Oh, does he? Just like that therapist of yours who still follows you around, 
prostrating himself like a Ferengi." 

"Rhengar? Of course. He is a loyal and dedicated servant." 

"And hopelessly in love with his Commander, not that I blame him. I doubt, 
however, he realizes how truly hopeless it is. But then he is still young." 

"Rhengar is an exceptional physician. But he and I have nothing in common." 

"Yes, different casts. The fabulously wealthy and powerful verses the hand to 
mouth intellectual and subservient. Nothing what-so-ever in common. But what do 
you really know about him?" 

Veexow was curious now. "How do you mean?" 

"He's served you for decades and yet did you know that he is the son of a 
Judgement Rebellist?" 

At her surprise, "No, I can see you did not." He continued. "Let me enlighten 
you. Rhengar's family were against the Extermination and campaigned against it. 
They lost their entire estate doing so. He would have been wealthy, famous 
perhaps had it not been for the unfortunate political choices of his parents. 
But, as it is, he grew up poor learning a trade and had to take a post." 

"Is there a point to all this?" 

"Only that you are often blind to what is right in front of you, Veexow. Why do 
you think Rhengar applied for the post aboard your ship as therapist? It's 
because he fell in love with you on first seeing that glorious beauty. He could 
have got on at some prestigious medical facility on the home world and worked 
his way to riches. But instead he stays with you earning a pittance and saying 
"Yes, M'Lady" all day long." 

"Rhengar is young!" Said as if that would explained it all. 

"So is your human." 

"That's different. Where PhaHks is concerned, age is irrelevant. He is already 
an adult. Practically middle aged. It is unlikely he will see even his hundredth 
year." 

"Gratifying to know you do realize that. Does he know he'll be spending the rest 
of those years in a cushioned cage in this century with you as his owner?" 

"Of course he doesn't." She spat. "He would never be able to accept the truth! 
His mind-" 

"His mind is not the weak vessel you make it out to be. I suspect that you 
underestimate PhaHks. I could hear the Warrior in his voice myself." 

"Oh!..." Dismissing his words with a peeved head shake. "You and your "Warrior 
Voice"!" 

"I know better than you his spirit and that from hearing only a few words." 

"Is this the Cleric I hear? Is that your spiritual belief?" she mocked. 

"Ex," he raised a finger for emphasis, "EX-Cleric. But I am still a priest and I 
still have the abilities of the calling. The ability to read The Voice and 
understand souls being just two." 

"And what is my voice saying to you right now?" She mused. 

"Your *soul* is telling me that you have finally found something that you love 
more than yourself." 

"Incorrect. What a philosopher you are." 

"And what a liar YOU are. With all of your other lovers over the decades, 
including me - curse my weak loins and foolish old heart -!, I don't think you 
have ever achieved that particular state until now. THIS," he raised his mug, 
"is an historic day." And swallowed the dregs. 

"Now I see why I gave up on you years ago, Kol. You. Are. TALK." 

Veexow shut-up at his fallen expression. She had actually hurt him with that. 
But the words were said and once said, words were as easily gathered back as 
feathers in a storm-wind. Quickly, "Forgive me, Kol. I am on edge." 

Kol's good humor, to her benefit, returned immediately. "There is nothing for me 
to forgive you for, Veexow. When I fell under your Romulan wiles, I was not 
drunk THAT day." His voice softened, reminiscing, "But, somehow, after you, the 
Chronicles of Kahless no longer fulfilled me." 

Kol seemed to sag a little, but then raised his mug, having made a decision. 
"More wine!" 

"Appears to me you have had enough." 

Ignoring her, "Not nearly. I still have to get through this night," leered back 
at her, "*alone*. Unless you are inclined to remedy that?" 

"We were in love once, Kol, and it was a long time ago." 

"I was in love. YOU were out to conqour. And you succeeded for here I am." 

"You love your life, here. No Klingon Duty, no one to tell you what to do, when 
to drink. You're even richer than me, I hear." 

"Tell me, Veexow..." 

Her good mood had returned somewhat. "Yes?" 

"Is he...*tender*?" 

Veexow stopped her pacing in circles, stared at Kol. "What?" 

"I asked you if he is tender?" 

"You're drunk, Kol." And he was rambling like a drunk. He was what she had said 
to him before, what she had heard over the years from other Klingons: <"Kol is 
TALK. TALK. TALK."> It was not meant to be flattering. 

"If so, I might even try him myself." 

She slammed her mug down on the table. Little droplets landed on the leftover 
dinners. "Gods! And to think you used to be a priest!" 

Kol roared at the effect his words had produced in her. And he *was* drunk. 
"Ohhhh, you are beautiful when you're furious, Veexoooow." 

Her anger abated quickly. Kol was up to his old flirtations as always. It was a 
very old game they played. 

She leaned in closely, so close that her breath fell on his lips but did not 
touch him. "You are a frustrating old Klingon, Kol." 

Kol bared his teeth. 

But Veexow straightened up. "I am going to sleep now." 

He sighed and called after her. "So, now I have to compete with a weakling 
human? It is humiliating, Veexow. Will you dishonor me? Your old "tender"?" 

His soft laughter followed her down the corridor. 

Both knew the other had enjoyed it. 

-----------------------------------------

PhaHks was sleeping. Not on a Klingon palate, the hard bases preferred by most 
of the species, but on what she preferred, a Romulan bed. 

A wide, soft, fiber-filled mat complete with coverlets. 

He was curled up well over on one side. 

She divested herself of clothing and slipped beneath the covers, coming to rest 
with her front pressed up against him. 

He hadn't undressed and she knew it was his way of asserting his will in 
response to the sleeping arrangements. Knew why he would rather have preferred a 
hard bench to this. It was PhaHks' instinctive need for space and 
self-determination. The human craving for freedom. 

He stirred under her touch and curled into a tighter ball. If she had any urges 
tonight only he could satisfy, such would have to be forced from him. 

But that is not how she liked it. 

Not from PhaHks. 

His willingness is what she wanted and, most often, what she received if she 
played him well. 

Veexow settled for sliding her arms around his sleeping form and pulling herself 
flush against his back. And she let her mind do the rest, taking her to that 
condition where he, tonight, would not go. 

In private pleasure and practiced detail she recalled her first taking of 
PhaHks:







<<<She didn't know why, at first, he had come to sit with her that night. It was 
any evening. It was like a thousand other days and evenings that he had spent in 
her home, on her world. 

Morning repast, he eating almost nothing. (She had grown used to his sometimes 
alarming fluctuations in body mass. It seemed to be a human state). 

He had gone running but had returned earlier than usual. This after she had 
allowed him near total freedom to run where he willed within her dozens of 
hectares of formal and informal gardens and grasslands at her Romulan estate. 

PhaHks had seemed restless and withdrawn. Having also grown used to that, she 
had paid it little attention and had turned her face back to her computer 
screen. 

Other times he had come (she assumed because he was lonely), to sit with her - 
always on the other side of the room - in her chamber during the evening hours. 
Therefore this visit was nothing unexpected at all and she had kept to her task 
of responding to her vast personal correspondence. 

Until he spoke: "Who are you writing to?" 

Her low murmur ceased and she switched off the computer. It was her first sign 
that night that something was going on with PhaHks. He rarely ever began 
conversations. And, until that moment, he had never once asked her about 
anything personal. 

"I am recording a message to an old friend whom I have not seen for a long 
time." 

He nodded, keeping his eyes on the floor in front of him. PhaHks was seated on 
her low divan, elbows resting on long legs. His fingers were laced and he kept 
rubbing his thumbs together, one along the length of the other and back again. 

She watched the unconscious action, fascinated. 

"Where does your friend live?" 

Veexow sighed, softly so he wouldn't hear. Still, to this day, he pursued it. 
"He lives far away, PhaHks. Very, very far away." 

The thumbs ceased their motions. He sat very still. She wondered if he was still 
breathing. Then, in the space of an eye blink, he was heading for the door. 

"Where are you going, PhaHks?" 

"Pool." He said before the door slid shut and she was alone again. 

Veexow did not return to her communique' but sat and thought over what had just 
transpired. The meeting had disturbed her. She mentally replayed each of his 
movements and words, trying to discover what it was she had missed. 

Nothing that leaped to the eye. 

Except for the unheard of personal questions. And perhaps his voice. The fact 
that there had been no recognizable tone in it is what was niggling at her. 
There had been no tone at all. PhaHks' voice and words coming from that lovely 
mouth, but level and deadened. 

He had been soliciting information. He'd just wanted to know...something. PhaHks 
had come fishing tonight. 

For what? 

When she had readied herself for slumber and approached her door to leave and 
quickly check on him, her habit, ensuring he was back from his bath and safe in 
his own rooms,... 

...he was there. 

Standing at her door. 

Dressed in the dark comfortable clothing she'd had made for him. (Somehow the 
stiff, layered outfits of traditional Romulan dress seemed unstylish for him, a 
human. And his old, white clothes reminded her too much of the early days and of 
his pure, unadulterated hatred of her). 

His clothes, now, were simple, but fit properly and, (rolling the image around 
in her mind), he did look ravishing in black. 

As he did now, for the second time in one evening. 

"PhaHks?" She was concerned now, at his expression. Completely unreadable. 

"I can't sleep." He said and entered. Carefully measured steps he was taking. He 
might have been tight roping the edge of the Underworld. 

"Are you ill?" she inquired, and not waiting for an answer, she moved to 
retrieve an ampule out of her private cabinet. It was a sleep drug, one she had 
given him before when his "N-sAHM-nee-ah" became intolerable. 

And again he was there. Behind her. 

It had been power she loved. 

Not duty. 

Not regulations quoted and obeyed from waking to slumber. 

Power. The might the uniform had brought her and not the uniform. She had held 
that might for decades. Her shield and her weapon. 

But on one night in a thousand, pale, cool fingers, heart-blood pulsing in each 
digit, came into contact with her pillar of strength. Rested briefly on thin 
material. Caressed shoulder skin. 

Veexow the rock, turned, melting into the ocean-washed sands of his earth. 

Deliberate contact on his part. A touch shouting a need too overwhelming to 
ignore. The final lap from an insistent water that had been washing against her 
since the beginning, now disintegrating the rock. 

His look said *Help me in this way*. 

She stared at his voiceless communication, the pill forgotten. 

He had said, May I? He had said Please. 

Veexow knew he was aware of her desire for him and had known since the 
beginning. She had carefully controlled it. With that knowledge, he could have 
come presumptiously snatching. Yet he stood quietly asking permission. 

Respectful, enigmatic. 

PhaHks. 

Veexow took that first hand he had extended and placed it between her two. The 
beginning. 

His eyes said things to her, whenever he raised them so she could see, before he 
dropped them back down to what she was doing to his hand. 

His dilated pupils said Do you want me? They said I offer my sex. 

She answered him by rubbing his one hand between her two, rolling his fingers 
sensuously as if they alone were the objects of her desire. 

Powerful, but wanting. Aching for him for so long. 

To provide that for which he clearly hungered, she panged. 

He was a male near sick with need. 

She was female and she could feed it, now, eagerly, because her hunger was 
greater. 

Veexow recalled that very first lesson, so long ago, in rape-sex. She had not 
touched him again after that. 

His withdrawn and fearful silence had taught her a thing about humans. That for 
them some wounds went unhealed. 

She deeply regretted that miscalculation. Had not wanted him falling into 
perpetual silence and fear whenever she entered a room, which is how he had 
acted for several weeks after that unfortunate battle of wills. One victory that 
worsened the actual war. 

Which had been her lesson. 

His lips touched her face, barely a whisper of a kiss when he leaned closer. 
Feather-like on her cheek, the softness of them. The cool, moistness. 

He was offering tantalizing promises in the here and now while she was racing 
ten steps ahead in her thoughts, planning, charting and imagining what she would 
do to him this night. 

What would he be like? 

She could see his chests quick movements, in and out, his panting. Human sexual 
excitement. What else would she learn from his body? 

PhaHks' lips delicately placed tender kisses on cheek and neck. Human hands that 
began an exploration of her flesh (when she was wearing entirely too much 
clothing!). 

With great effort she refrained from placing her hands on any part of his body. 
But for her eyes which stared at the quickened pulse of his throat. 

His hands touched her. Moved. 

Down her front and - 

(She inhaled and was full of PhaHks fragrance). 

- and cupped her breasts. 

A bit of fear was there in him still. The sensation of his forbidden human 
digits was torture. She wanted him to enter her right there and then but she 
knew that was generally not the human way. 

For certain, not PhaHks'. 

Veexow could tolerate no more such appetizers. She wanted the solid food of him. 
His gentle, starving touch fired her. 

She kissed back now. (But not lips. Not yet. Savor him. Keep the delicious parts 
for later). Face, throat, shoulder, chest... 

At first, gentle, then more insistent, Veexow demanded. She was tasting, 
pushing, sucking. Her images becoming physical reactions in her swollen place. 
The first entry of him, how he would feel, inside her, engorged with 
sun-red-blood, long, and hard and wet and PhaHks!...and thrusting, THRUSTING! 

It was everything she could do not to hurry things along and mount him. But she 
didn't want to scare him off with her Romulan fevers, which could become 
mindless desire if not kept in check. 

She quickly led him to her bed, divesting herself of her own sleeping garment 
along the way. The chambers air was a sexual blanket, they would need no other 
draping. 

She removed his clothing swiftly, expertly, slipping the tunic over his head 
without warning so he had to quickly raise his arms. Then she pushed his 
trousers down in one motion, taking selfish pleasure in raking the soft pads of 
her fingers over his backside and thighs on the way down. He stepped out of the 
pants and she did the same on the way up. 

Veexow had unveiled his sex for herself. She had seen him in this vulnerable 
state before, but not in the offering of his body. Never with his approval. 

He was beautiful... 

**(She'd wanted him from the first, of course. From the discovery of him, 
certain of what she had found. Angry at Rhengars reaction when she'd voiced 
thoughts of keeping PhaHks: 

<"Why do you obsess over this human? I believe you are drawn to him somehow." 
(Rhengar had said). 

"Is that what you think? Do you honestly believe that I care in the slightest 
for what YOU think?!" (He had angered her. Had never before addressed her thus). 


"What are you planning, Commander?-" 

*Commander*, he had said. Not *M'Lady*. It hurt! 

"-What are you planning? Children? A family? A whole new generation of 
HUMAN-oids with the blessing of the Romulan Government?" 

"PhaHks is a curiosity, that is all! I..." 

"Now you lie to me." (He had sounded deeply hurt, she had always been completely 
truthful with him). "I believe you would protect him, an Illegal, over anyone of 
us. Over me." 

"Enough, Rhengar! Your over-reaction is typical." 

"I am being the careful, pedantic Doctor Rhengar. You think me dull and 
conventional. What do you really know of me? I may be in love with you, Veexow." 
(the first mention of his feelings and the speaking of her name), "but do not 
presume to minimize me or my cautions. You had that girl killed because of this 
human. I am an accessory to a murder of my own species. I have tolerated much in 
your service. Now it is to my own detri- ment." (And then Rhengar had poured out 
his heart) "And you are no nearer to opening your eyes to me than when I first 
came to serve you. I am a fool but I have made my choices and am willing to live 
with them. To that extent my conscience is at peace. What will you do to cleanse 
yours?">







Veexow had known *what* PhaHks was: A human male. 

Soon, (thrilled, aroused, obsessed), had learned what he *was*: Prohibited, 
exotic, fascinating, moody, sexual being).** 

That first coupling had lasted hours. 

When they, momentarily spent, laid back, he panting, a film of sweat evaporating 
from his skin and making little convections in the still air of the room, she 
satisfied and energized and hungry for more of him, they began again. Over and 
over, all night. 

It was better than she had expected. 

Better than she'd hoped. 

After finally parting for the remainder of the night, she had slumbered like no 
other night before or any since. 

The sleep of the confessed. Of the soul-cleansed and the contented, knowing that 
they have at last declared their hidden, baser truth, if only to their hired 
priest. 

She passed into the netherworld satisfied and unaware of what their first night 
of lovemaking had cost him. 

PhaHks slept the eternity of the self-condemned. A bloodless, crooked finger 
pointed up from hell. His own un alive soul had accused him and so he had 
entered. 

Perpetually immolated in unearthly fires, he had drunk deeply the blood of the 
Devil and was dirtied. Even in dreams. 

<<He dreamt that night that he was no longer human. Unwelcome to mortals but not				
yet acceptable to the dead. He was neither spirit nor flesh, angel or demon. 
Soulless. He walked hand-cobbled streets in a green, moist place and it was 
daytime. He had lay down on his bed and awakened huddled in a strangers doorway 
wearing clothing he hadn't put on, a black cloak he knew he didn't own wrapped 
around shivering shoulders. He walked the cobbled Way, looking for his address 
that wouldn't leave his thoughts yet one he couldn't remember either. All he 
knew was that he had to get there. Whom he passed he didn't know. They had no 
faces. All who shared the street with him were headless torsos with working 
limbs, all traveling the direction from which he had come. He could hear their 
voices and the noises of the street venders, but see no-ones face where, above 
their collar- line, flesh faded out. Eyes and mouths disappearing. They spoke 
but not to him. He soon understood that his was an irreversible transaction. It 
was the price of being un-alive and non-mortal in this dream place; perhaps he 
would eventually become a demon but never again behold human faces for which he 
now longed. The propitiation. A complete death and there would be no going back. 
He understood that he had traveled beyond his elusive destination a long time 
ago, as it was carved into the stones at the mortal's feet over which now only 
they freely passed. He was his own end. His own begin- ning. As a self created 
thing, he would have to learn to accept that which had been chosen for him. The 
Way he now walked willingly, yet with chains. Unfree. Self sacrifice. No 
choice.>> 

PhaHks had awakened from that dream soaked in the sick sweat of understanding. 

He became conscious. He comprehended. 

When it confronted him, his living nightmare, he mourned with silent screams 
into his bed sheets. 

Then fell asleep for a long time.>>>









Veexow, craving his sex but making no sexual motions other than to drape one leg 
over PhaHks, slept. 

**** 

The next morning, Veexow took PhaHks' hand "Come with me, there is something I 
must show you." 

And led him to a window. 

A wide portal. 

Alien world. PhaHks looked at orange and black. Tawny fire and shadowed cold. 

Moonscape. A distant sun. White hot but too far to warm the planetoid nor 
encourage atmosphere. 

Veexow let him soak up what he was seeing, then she spoke gently. 

"This is Kol'keK. We may be here for some time. For now, this is your home. Kol 
has given us leave to stay as long as we wish. As long as needed. You may 
wander, PhaHks. You may go running, you may explore. But there are some things 
you cannot do here. You can't enter the Bay..." 

(didn't know what "the Bay" was) 

"...you can't enter Kol's private chambers..." 

(didn't want to) 

"...and you can't ever go outside." 

PhaHks was very still. Veexow stood beside him also very still. He would scream, 
faint, cry, get angry, pound his fists, try to kill her or himself or he would 
accept it. 

But PhaHks didn't seem to be doing any of those. 

He only stared for many minutes on this outside world where he could never go. 
One that killed instantly. 

Veexow sighed heavily. "I know you hate me for this." 

Without a word or gesture of any kind, he turned his back on it and her and 
walked away. 

Veexow did not know which for himself he had chosen. 

Life or death. 

In the days ahead, he never spoke of it. 

***** 

--------------------------------------------------------------------- 

PhaHks mostly kept his eyes on his food. Despite the quiet hum of conversation, 
he'd never heard such a chorus of baritone's, like low native drumming or 
distant thunders. 

Including himself, seven was the number seated around a heavy stone table 
crowded with bowls of consumables and mugs. There were no utensils, eating with 
ones hands being the customary etiquette. 

An intermittent sprinkle of food-laden saliva adorned PhaHks' supper whenever 
one of them laughed or was seized by a thought and spoke it. Plunging into the 
middle of a conversation without first swallowing, the young one across from him 
in particular had decorated PhaHks' plate with a rainbow of masticated bits. 

Every so often, a servant (a blue skinned, hairless male) would appear out of 
thin air - it seemed - and lay down another bowl of stomach turning dead things. 
None of the partakers appetites appeared to be diminishing. 

Veexow was paying more attention to her wine and PhaHks' delicious thigh than 
Kol's friends. 

Knowing PhaHks would understand little of what he would hear, (he had picked up 
a good smattering of Romulan but less of Klingzai, being that she and PhaHks 
generally communicated in Old Human), she never-the-less had insisted that he 
accompany her to Kol's party. She firmly believed PhaHks needed the diversion as 
much as she did. 

She and PhaHks had been with Kol nearly five years. This was the first time Kol 
had any other visitors, his little home not in close proximity to most systems. 
And spending any amount of time on an drunken Ex-Cleric's sterile moon was the 
choice of only a few, hardy souls. 

Kol'keK (his moon) wasn't exactly uppermost on many traveler's holiday retreat 
destination list. 

Kol, the consummate egoist, would not have agreed. 

But these Klingons were different. All knew him well. None, upon seating 
themselves at Kol's table, had even looked askance at Veexow and then only 
puzzled a bit over PhaHks. Rhengar they ignored completely. Over Romulan Law 
regarding humans (regarding anything), Veexow could sense their mental 
indifference. As with most Klingons, the Law was *Romulan* law and nothing more. 


In spite of the Klingonized repast, it was turning out to be quite a civilized 
affair. 

She glanced in turn at each of Kol's dinner guests. These were more of Kol's 
crowd. None were members of the warrior class. All, rather, of clerical vocation 
or inclination. Some by bloodline. 

Rhengar was present and polite but abdicated conversation. He disliked formal 
gatherings. 

The topics of the moment were cerebral (Klingon version), and actually quite 
interesting. 

"There are some who believe that a good honest war with Romulus would cleanse 
this tension between our two Empires once and for all. Some think the 
Non-Aggression Pact simply a delay tactic on the part of the Romulan Government, 
to fool us into thinking that the reason they do not want a war is because they 
could not win one." 

The speaker was the eldest of the party, nearly bald. A learned priest of 
Kahless. "All the while, they are probably preparing for it while our warriors 
waste their time and resources celebrating their past "honors"!" His tone was 
contemptuous. 

Another, the youth said, "The Romulans WOULDn't win." 

The former sighed, having heard that and more from this idealistic member of the 
younger generation. 

"You are a fool. Both sides would be evenly matched. It is too bad that the 
Romulans keep themselves so socially isolated. Still, to this day, they think 
that everyone in the galaxy should be acting and talking and *thinking* like 
them, and if not, "persuaded" to." 

He smiled at his own joke, baring teeth not of enamel, but precious metals. 

"The Klingon Empire has the experience to know that such a belief is ultimately 
self-defeating.". 

A non-cleric but former student of Kol and present priest-intern of the old 
Klingon, spoke: "There are rumors that Romulus has its political eye on 
Ferenginar and its trade routes. They are trying to convince the Ferengi 
Exchange that a greater sharing of the profits with Romulus,.." 

..eyed each table-member knowingly, 

"..in other words: *taxes* would bring great benefits to Ferenginar. 

"The Romulans would provide them with new technologies, cloaks and weapons. Not 
to mention trading passes to more distant systems." 

Again, the old, wise Priest offered his insight: "If the Ferengi are stupid 
enough to believe any- thing a Romulan Official says,.." looking at Veexow, "no 
offense,.." 

She was amused, not offended. He was correct. 

"...then they deserve their fate." 

The Blue-Man brought out another keg of ale, setting it by Kol's plate. No 
Klingon servants walked the halls of this house because there were no Klingons 
alive in the universe willing to play waiter. 

Kol poured Blood-wine and passed the barrel to his right. It went around the 
table. 

Veexow took it and poured herself a mug. Then she poured out a small one for 
PhaHks, who tried to indicate to her through a small shake of his head that he 
didn't want any. She ignored him and pointed to his cup. 

He had been silent the whole evening, not speaking a word to her or anyone. In 
fact, when they had sat down at the table, he had shifted his chair over so it 
touched hers. 

PhaHks had paled at the sight of so many Klingons all at once. Tonight was his 
first taste of a gathering here and the first since he'd been with her. 

And Phahks had been nervous and jumpy all through the meal (she knew because he 
had not eaten a crumb), until she had placed a hidden hand on his thigh to calm 
him. Instead he had jerked, knocking over her full mug of wine and she'd had to 
pour herself out another. 

Since then, he hadn't moved hardly at all, keeping his eyes on his food, her or, 
occasionally, Rhengar or Kol, whom he was used to. His untouched food had dried 
to wrinkled lumps on his plate hours ago. 

Since he'd kept his weight acceptably average - for him - Veexow had decided not 
to nag him about it. 

But, for the remainder of the meal, Veexow kept her hand on his leg, offering, 
now and then, a gentle caress to let him know everything was all right and that 
he was safe. In fact, all this secret touching of PhaHks was causing warm 
upheavals in her wine-tempered emotions and arousing tingles in her 
progressively relaxing limbs. 

Rhengar had then excused himself and retired to his rooms for the night. He had 
seemed pensive. 

Veexow dismissed thoughts of the therapist and pointed to PhaHks' mug again. 

He sniffed it and took one obedient sip. It tasted like hundred proof prune 
juice with cloves. 

Veexow wanted him to relax, maybe even enjoy himself a little. Perhaps he would 
realize that he didn't have to hide away, that he didn't always have to be in 
control, that things were improving and that he was alive and that *this* could 
be his life. Not a bad one either. 

PhaHks sighed, exasperated. He drained his mug. 

She poured him another and he glared. 

"Where is your Sworn-One, Kol?" Old Wise Priest asked. 

Kol looked around at the faces of the guests, as if expecting to find the person 
in question among them. "He has been gone for years. Was supposed to be back 
already." Shrugged. "Could be dead." And went back to his food. 

"Well, did he go off on some quest of glory?" Old Wise Priest inquired, 
sarcastic but frankly curious. 

"Well, he IS of the warrior class. What he does is his own affair." Kol offered 
in bored explanation. 

Young Idealist: "How is it that a lone warrior pledged himself to *you*?' 

Again, Kol shrugged, but was annoyed with the question. He was a Sacramentarian, 
an educated and rich Ex-Cleric who owned and entire moon! Why wouldn't some 
young orphaned warrior want to pledge himself to him. Besides, it meant he had a 
personal protector of his families honor. Even though he had no descendants, he 
was Kol! And the price - occasional food and lodgings - was hardly out of his 
budget. 

"Perhaps he wants to socialize with someone of breeding?" Kol offered modestly. 

A round of laughter was all he received in reply. 

PhaHks didn't laugh. He didn't get the punch in. He was feeling woozy. 

Old Wise Priest rose from the meal and wine. The other guests took this as a 
signal to get up as well. 

"Kol," Old Wise Priest announced, "you are all Klingon." It was thanks for the 
hospitality. "But this was only one stop on our journey, and we must go." 

Kol half rose out of his chair, too drunk to make it all the way, but Old Wise 
Priest seemed to take it in stride. He knew Kol's vices and had accepted them 
long ago. 

The party, robes swaying in holiness, migrated down the hall. Their voices faded 
out. Clearly, Kol intended they see themselves to their own vessel. 

Veexow knew Kol probably wouldn't have managed the trip. 

""Breeding"?" She offered, a contrite smile about her mouth. 

"Don't YOU start." Kol warned but glowing from inebriation. 

"You would have been a High Priest by now. Perhaps even the Figure Head." (She 
hadn't added *if it weren't for your drunkenness.*). 

"I was corrupted by a seductress, a Romulan Commander, no less." 

"Oh, "corrupted"! You pursued me." 

"Perhaps. But in the end, it was I who initiated my own moral downfall. You 
waved your power like a Beh'ah'Let, and I was defeated." He smiled at his 
poetry. 

PhaHks listened, comprehending only a little of what they were saying. Because, 
just as at dinner, they were oscillating between her torturous dialect and his 
guttural clicks and groans that stood in place of real language. 

But after years of being exposed to both, he was managing a phrase or three. 

"You wanted that power!... (unintelligible)...have it for yourself." Veexow 
said. 

Kol snorted. "Klingons value honor, not power. Power, control, is an 
illusion..." (Grunts. Clicks.) "...fragile..." (gibberish)"...only strong..." 
(nonsense)"...a club." Kol's voice had taken on the sound of fire and brimstone. 
"Respect, honor, has force..." (guttural groan), "...even in death." 

Veexow waved away his hell fires. "We have held the Law for..." (no-clue) 
"...years." 

"That Law is..." (long, throaty gurgle), "... crumble, Veexow, can't you see 
that?!" 

Kol was up and pacing, the drink having worn off or perhaps having had completed 
its objective; that of numbing the Klingon's center of reason. 

"Oh? And why is that?" PhaHks could feel her stiffening more and more with every 
Kol-spewed syllable. 

"Because the Romulan Council underestimates...' (bark, growl) "...conquered. 
Always have." 

Suddenly Veexow turned to PhaHks and enunciated in perfect English, "PhaHks, 
leave us. Next room. Wait." glaring at Kol. 

PhaHks heard that unmistakable tone of voice that said he was to obey her in 
this. She would brook no arguments. It was clear the two were spoiling for a 
fight. 									

Assuredly, the dinner party was caput. 

Feeling lightheaded and not wanting to be present for the screaming match 
anyway, he wandered into the next chamber, closing the heavy door behind him. At 
least the damn place was soundproof. 

At least here, he was afforded a view of the outside world for a while. A 
desolate, shadowed scape of dunes and rock, darkening even more as the distant 
sun sunk behind the bleak moonrocks and thousands more stars became visible. 
What could be alive out there? Knew the answer before he'd asked it. 

* 

Back at the dinner table... 

"...and you underestimate that skinny human I'll wager." Kol smiled at Veexow's 
sudden angry eyes. 

Whenever he spoke of her new pet, she turned to fire. 

"PhaHks is none of your concern." 

"He's in my house, he's my concern if I wish him to be or if I do not. But as I 
was saying, you think he is defeated and passive. You believe that he thinks not 
of his home or that he has resigned himself to this..." Waved a hand, indicating 
the house and everything in it, "...comfortable prison you have provided, or 
rather, that *I* have." 

"PhaHks *has* settled. We have been together for over seven years. He 
understands that this is his life now and that he has no choice. There is no way 
to return him home after all." 

"Hah! What do you think he sees, Veexow?" 

Shook her head. "And what are you talking about now?" 

Kol was again at the wine jug but his mind was still sober. "When PhaHks looks 
out one of my portals and sees a lifeless, airless moon or when he looks to the 
night sky and sees a hot white star instead of the cool yellow of his Sol or 
when he looks at you,..." Pointing his mug her way. 

"...he sees," not yet relinquishing the floor, "a dead moon, an alien star two 
thousand million KeHl'kems away and a woman, though a beautiful one, with the 
face of a demon." He paused so his point might meet its mark. 

"And if you believe he sees anything else, then you are the one living in a 
cell." 

Veexow stood erect and unwavering. "I grow weary of this. I am going to bed." 

"You know I mean you no insult but it was necessary to tell you this, Veexow. 
You are blinded by your love for that human. Nothing else seems to matter 
anymore. It is disturbing. I,." spread his hands in defeat over his still 
captured feelings for her, "..worry for you." 

She smiled, just a little. "You mean well, Kol, but I can assure you your 
concern is misplaced. Goodnight." 

"I hope so." He said to her retreating back, "I hope so."





--------------------------------------------------------------------- 

*** 

PhaHks let his mind escape into the still-life of the portal. For a while, it 
felt good to think about nothing at all. And it was helping clear his fuzzy head 
- the wine had hit him harder than he realized. 

At best he was still tipsy and didn't react right away when he heard a soft 
sound behind him. 

Finally turning he found himself nose to nose with another Bonehead - 

- *Cling-un!* 

Veexow was constantly reprimanding him on his use of "pet" names for Kol. Wisely 
he had never mentioned his private list of variations on her. 

This Cling-un was huge, PhaHks standing, in fact, forehead to chin with the 
gargantuan. The losing side of the equation. 

When the demon-turned-man spoke, he sounded like Darth Vader (with a bad throat) 
on downers. 

"Soooooo, YOU are the cause of it." 

*English*. PhaHks found his voice and the guts to stare Ugly right in the eye. 
But his balls were doing the tuck. 

"The "cause"? Of what and who wants to know?" 

He was glad his voice didn't quaver as they each tried to out stare the other. 
They might have been two drunks in a bar challenging each other about who next 
got the pool table. 

Not bad, PhaHks thought, considering he'd probably just granted Bonehead the 
moral right to crush his skull in its maw. After dinner snack. 

"The dishonor..." Bonehead spoke the word as if PhaHks had just defouled his 
shoe. "...that is polluting this House." 

PhaHks could feel the Thing's sour breath, glimpsed brown razor teeth edging 
curled back lips. He may as well have been conversing with a rabid rottweiler. 

Jesus. He was about to die. 

He wondered if he could diffuse this very bad situation and make an exit with 
all of his organs tidy. 

"I don't know what you're talking about." he said, moving to pass the two 
hundred and fifty pound monolith. 

Almost made it too. 

Until a thick hairy limb wrapped itself around his throat, spinning him one 
hundred, eighty and slamming him back against the wall. The air rushed out of 
his lungs like he was a balloon and something had just popped him. 

"The Romulan Bitch's human flower is not welcome in this House." 

Managed to squeak out, "Who says so?" 

His next lung full of air was squeezed off when an arm was switched for fingers, 
the Klingon wrapping one hand around PhaHks' throat. The thick digits nearly 
touched at the back. 

"I am DhrAH'Ken. I am the Keeper of the Honor of the House of Kol." 

So, fido had a name and obedience training too. 

"Has she deflowered you yet human?" 

PhaHks didn't like the direction this conversation was heading. But, all 
energies having to focus on locating a molecule or two of air, it was the least 
of his worries. 

"What do you want from me?" He tried to sound brave, as if being nearly garroted 
was just another day and nothing special. Like this kind of shit had happened 
before. 

Actually, it had. But at that time, he'd at least had a sporting chance. 

"Surely, she told you there would be other interested parties?" The Thing pulled 
out from some hidden cache the most lethal looking knife he had ever seen. Three 
blades in one. The two little serrated blades flanking the main shaft like cock 
spurs. The larger blade had holes in it to, no doubt, pull asunder intruding 
flesh with each withdrawal from victim. 

It was waved before his face and pressed against his rib cage. 				


"I have pledged my life to Kol and his House because I have none of my own. He 
has dirtied that honor by allowing in the Romulan whore,.." 

The blade was drawn slowly down PhaHks' side, tearing fabric and separating 
skin. He stiffened. Felt the little stinging trickles of his warm blood. 

"...and you. But Kol is old and his mind is weak. He does not know enough to 
kill that Romulan filth and I cannot do so without dishonoring him. So now it is 
up to me to restore that honor. Would you like to know how?" 

Not really. 

Actually, the question had startled him. He'd been busy listening to the 
rumbling cadence of DhrAH'Ken's voice. A storm was brewing in the creature and 
PhaHks knew its fury was about to come down all over him like the hammer of 
Thor. 

Sheathing the knife, DhraAH'Ken, without further ado, sliced one finger down 
PhaHks' front, tearing open his shirt and pants sternum to groin. The answer 
cometh. 

Oh, Christ. 

He started kicking his soon-to-be rapist as hard as he could in the legs. All it 
did was loosen the talons at his throat enough to draw one lung full of 
Demon-stinking breath, making him cough violently. 

He supposed his dying right that minute was not on DhrAH'ken's game plan, 
because the hand released him, allowing him freedom enough to pile to the floor. 
Which was just enough. 

Absolutely sober, PhaHks coiled his long legs under him and sprang at his 
molester, driving his head forward as hard as humanly possible. 

Bull's-eye, the top of his head rammed DhrAH'Ken's privates dead center. The 
fucker howled. 

PhaHks didn't stick around long enough to figure out how many seconds his little 
trick had bought him and leaped to his feet. 

He got in three running steps before he was again griped in DhrAH'Ken's steel 
pinchers and dragged into the next chamber, his legs dangling. One massive kick 
from DhrAH'Ken and the metal door swung shut with terrifying finality. 

PhaHks was lifted up and thrown hard against the nearest wall. An octave of 
cracking ribs was heard accompanied by the crunch of skull against stone. 

Dazed, he was barely aware when he was flipped around, his chest and groin 
compressed painfully against the unyielding structure. He could hardly breath 
for the hurt and pressure on his broken rib cage protecting uselessly his oxygen 
starved lungs. 

His pants were ripped down to his knees. Felt cool air on his buttocks and hot 
breath at his neck. Calloused fingers spread his cheeks while a hand retained 
its death grip around his throat, clenching tighter, pinching off his air, 
whenever he struggled. 

This was to be no gentle introduction to homosexual sex. This hadn't anything to 
do with sex. It was retaliation, revenge and retribution. He was to be raped, 
beaten, humiliated and possibly *eaten* all for the purpose of punishing someone 
ELSE! 

There was no warning at all when a tree stump was cannoned up his ass, nearly 
making him faint. 

Eternity was nothing grand. 

It was being fucked in the anus without lube', preparation or consent. 

It hurt so fucking bad, he was crying even as the barnacled son-of-a-bitch 
torpedoed him harder. Dick- barbs scraped him. There was lubrication after that. 
>From PhaHks' own bloodstream as his innards were churned to raw hamburger. 

As quickly as it had started, it ended and he was dropping to the floor. 

When his senses told him he was still alive and lying on the floor with his 
pants down around his ankles and his last shred of dignity seeping out from 
between burning cheeks, he opened his eyes. 

Demon stood over him and the knife was back. 

So he was going to die after all. 

PhaHks' hands groped the floor around him, if for nothing else, then to find a 
place of leverage. If he could get to his feet- 

-his hand found and wrapped around a wedge of stone. One that must have 
thoughtfully separated from the wall back when his head had introduced itself. 
He didn't care. It was thin, sharp and pointy and it was a gift from somebody's 
pitying deity. 

Demon/Fucker got down on one knee. 

Raised the knife. 

Last words. Make 'em good. "You didn't even buy me drinks." He croaked. It hurt 
to talk. 

The gallows humor was wasted on the Klingon as DhrAH'Ken leaned in closer. 
Grinned. "Now you die, human." 

PhaHks couldn't prevent the knife from making that first deep cut to his arm 
when he raised his own crude weapon and plunged it into DhrAH'Ken's right eye. 

He felt an immense surge of accomplishment when the prick screamed and fumbled 
to remove the offending flint. 

When DhrAH'Ken finally managed it, he looked around with his one good eye and 
saw PhaHks hobbling out the far end of the chamber, hiking up his ragged 
trousers. The human started limp-running. 

With a growl of rage, DhrAH'Ken wiped his own bit of blood from his eye, the 
human's pathetic weapon having only penetrated fatty flesh. He ran after the 
creature, who was proving to be a peskily innovative and quick-thinking prey. 
And one light on his feet judging by the distance he had managed in just a few 
seconds. 

DhrAH'Ken was almost impressed. 

But the human was bleeding and leaving a trail a blindman could see. The 
Sworn-One followed the pattern of little red blood drops. Soon, he would make a 
river of it. 

** 

Veexow opened the door through which PhaHks had disappeared a short time ago. 
Kol was good and drunk on his wine and she was tired. PhaHks she would keep with 
her tonight as usual in her own chambers. Besides, she did not trust anyone to 
watch him (and watch out for him) with the kind of close attention she 
preferred. 

She entered the chamber. "PhaHks?" 

It was empty. 

Anger flared in her at his disobedience. She had specifically told him to remain 
in the next room and wait for her. 

Foolish, insufferable creature! Veexow silently debated the possible punishments 
for this latest infringement. 

She passed through to the next room. It contained no wayward human either. 

Something, however, was there on the floor that shone dully in the low light. 
Stooping to examine it, it was wet and cool. 

The tiniest black thread lay there as well, the tip of it stained red. Just as 
the sticky liquid was red. 

There was also one small drop of purple. 

Fear entered her. "PhaHks?" She called to him. 

The red droplets made a broken line out the archway and into the night darkened 
hallway. 

She walked faster. She ran. "PhaaauwH-kesss!" 

** 

DhrAH'Ken caught up with him around two more corners, where he'd watched the 
human disappear through the entryway to the Hall of Conquests. 

Surrounded on all sides as they were with weapons of courage, each stained with 
the different lifeblood of a sworn enemy, DhrAH'Ken thought it the ideal setting 
for his task. The human's blood would decorate these walls. 

He tackled PhaHks, sending both of them sprawling in a heap. 

DhrAH'Ken managed the upper hand as the human twisted and turned, trying to buck 
him off. 

Raising the Klingon blade in both hands over PhaHks' trapped body, he shouted 
triumph, bringing it down on him. 

Once. 

Blood spilled from PhaHk's upper thigh, the blade deflected there due to his 
desperate struggle to protect his vital organs. 

DhrAH'Ken raised it again, tiny spatters of red arcing off the weapons tips, 
leaving little bloody sprays over the floor and nearby table leg. Brands of 
triumph. Red color of victory. 

The knife was raised again. 

Twice.







Two sounds, both of the slicing of meat and tissue, reached her ears two steps 
before PhaHks' weak cry of agony did. 

She entered the room, racing, in time to see Kol's Sworn-One bury his blade to 
the hilt in the hollow of PhaHks' shoulder. 

Veexow didn't even pause to check its setting as she brought up her particle 
weapon and watched its energy send DhrAH'Ken across the room, far away from 
PhaHks. 

Though DhrAH'Ken moved mo more, she was disappointed to see that he still 
breathed. 

Phahks! She scrambled to his side. 

Checking him, he was conscious but not alert as his iron blood poured from the 
ragged wound. She gathered folds of her robe into her hands and pressed down on 
it, trying to retard the flow of life. 

Knew from Rhengar's descriptions that vital blood vessels passed through this 
delicate area, main canals of precious fluid pumped by a heart only inches away. 


He had other injuries. She didn't know how many, how serious. 

Summoning Rhengar through her bracelet communicator, she waited, speaking to 
PhaHks. Whispered words in his ear. Meaningless sounds that were said only to 
keep him alive for another few seconds. 

"PhaHks," she said, "Stay awake. Listen to me you stubborn human. You will live. 
You've proven to me that you can. Terrible things have happened yet you were not 
defeated. You must not follow death to its door. Refuse! Will you? Will you do 
this for me? Please? There, how's that? I have said please to you for a second 
time, that should give you reason for life, you have to respond to that. You 
must wake up and spit some ridiculous, insolent humanism." 

PhaHks groaned under her touch and her voice. His skin cast was lifeless now as 
the blood left his body and filled her hands. 

She was being coated in him. 

"PhaHks?" No sound now. There was barely a flutter to his chest as his breathing 
shallowed out. 

Under her probing fingers, his pulse, that curious, fascinating, alien second 
heart-beat at his throat 

Stopped. 

"PHAHKS!" She shouted at him. Screamed it directly into his ear. 

He had bled to death under her helping hands. 

Rhengar appeared in shimmering transporter waves, instant travel that to Veexow 
was taking infinitely too long. 

"Rhengar!" she cried. He didn't need to be told the condition of the human. It 
was clear by the evidences of red blood on and around him and the stained hands 
of M'Lady. 

He passed his instrument over the limp body, noting at once the absence of 
cardiac rhythm and respirations and that the creature's brain patterns were 
becoming erratic. 

He took a Stimulater, after adjusting it to suit his best assessment of a humans 
need, and placed it over PhaHks' heart. Next, he injected his patient with a mix 
of drugs designed to increase the body's natural healers. It was meant for 
Romulans, but he had recently modified it. Did not know if it would work. 

Rhengar touched a control on the heart stimulator. A tiny, guided current of 
electrons passed from it to the heart muscle, making PhaHks' body jerk slightly. 


No other sign of life however. He placed a second Stimulator on PhaHks' forehead 
and synchronize them. 

Veexow had rose and backed away from her doctor and his patient, to give them 
room. 

It was an silent lie. 

Meant for her. 

PhaHks was dying. 

PhaHks was dead. 

Phahks' blood had spilled onto a stone floor in her world. It had been ushered 
forth from its host for her humiliation and punishment. She had murdered him and 
his blood clung to her hands like a second skin. It would never wash off. 

"You must save him." 

"I am not certain I can." Rhengar sensed something and turned to see M'Lady's 
personal blaster pointed at him. 

"If you kill me, I can do nothing for him." He pointed out. He saw her face 
contort with her efforts to control what she was feeling. 

*He* knew. 

The blaster clattered to the floor. "I'll give you everything I have." 

She whispered it but Rhengar had heard the wail of deprivation. The suddenly 
starving. 

He turned back to his patient and increased the power from stimulators to heart 
and brain. The human's body jumped. 

"What I need is help. Here." Rhengar held something out to M'Lady. "Take it. We 
must start artificial respiration." 

She took the nose/mouth piece and its attached micro-oxygen-generator. 

"We have little time to spare." Rhengar urged. 

She quickly joined him and placed the device over PhaHks' nose and mouth, 
cradling his head in her other hand. 

Rhengar increased the stimulators output by two more fold. If the setting didn't 
bring him back to life...he was dead anyway. That much power would begin to cook 
the organs if used a second time. 

PhaHks' form jerked violently. Rhengar felt for a pulse and found it. He nodded 
to M'Lady. 

Understanding dawned on her quickly as PhaHks' chest rose and fell, shallowly, 
on its own. 

"We must get him to my chambers." Rhengar said. 

Total control reined once again. "So he will be all right?" Her voice leveling 
like water. 

He shook his head. "I have to prepare some synthetic plasma or he will not be 
alive for long." 

"What are you all doing in my trophy room?" A drunken Kol had entered unnoticed 
and was taking in the scene. His "trophies" were in fact a collection, bought 
and paid for. 

Veexow stood and spun around on him, enraged. 

"Why didn't you tell me your Sworn One was DhrAH'Ken?! I demand that VAHROOL be 
executed!" Pointing to the still unconscious Klingon. 

Kol's puzzled frown followed her finger. "And just why should I want to do 
that?" 

"DhrAH'Ken tried to murder PhaHks." Rhengar explained, "and if we do not tend to 
him immediately, he will have succeeded. 

Veexow turned her attention back to the doctor and the injured in question. She 
bit back the obscenities she wanted to sling Kol's way, instead, crouching and 
holding PhaHks' head in her lap. Rhengar touched his belt controls and all three 
transported away. 

Kol nudged the Sworn-One with his boot. His Sworn didn't stir. "Strange, that my 
words should shout their fulfillment so quickly." 

He gave up trying to rouse the unconscious Klingon and staggered out the door. 
When DhrAH'Ken awoke, Kol would find out what had happened. 

For now, he wanted to go back to his wine barrel.





**** 

Rhengar had PhaHks on full oxygen and fluids replacement but he was grim. "He 
has lost much blood, M'Lady. If his body can produce enough iron rich cells 
quickly, he may survive." 

Phahks lay on Rhengar's own bed (there were no hospital or nursing facilities on 
Kol-keK). He was a thin, pale rag under the thick coverlets. 

"Can you not provide him with those?" Veexow urged. 

"Of course. I have already administered the appropriate drugs to boost his 
immunities, bone- marrow cell production and the like. But there are other 
difficulties. His kidney functions have ceased. Possibly due to the physical 
shock." 

"Well, start them again." 

Rhengar sighed. "It is not that simple. I cannot risk them infecting, something 
which, at this point he will be prone. His state is critical. His body would not 
be able to fight it off, he is simply too weak. And there are other factors." 

Veexow payed little attention to Rhengars clinical details, taking PhaHks' limp, 
ghost-hand in her own. "Will he live?" 

"He has a chance. I have done all I can, now the rest is up to him." 

Veexow closed her eyes and the vision of a ruddy, panting PhaHks, hardened with 
lust and slaking himself in her body nearly made her cry out. 

"PhaHks must live, Rhengar. You must make him live." 

Rhengar put away his instruments. "You know I will do all I can." 

Veexow, suddenly remembering her impulsive act of pointing her weapon at the 
doctor, looked back at him. "Forgive me!" 

Rhengar had already done so. "You would not have harmed me, M'Lady. You never 
mean to harm." 

She gazed at PhaHks' naked sickness. "But I have. I have." 

****** 

Hands touched him without purpose. 

That's what he hated the most: the touching, checking, pressing hands. 

And the freezing wet water that smothered him in chills and aching fingers. 

Even more despised, though, was the metal instrument that was shoved into his 
mouth with infuriating frequency. Rhythmic, vile proboscis, making him gag and 
choking off his air. 

Veexow raised PhaHks' head from the pillow just enough to tip the ladle so the 
soup would pour between his lips. Cracked with fever, they would open just so 
far. She would then scoop it in. 

"Just one more, PhaHks, and you can go back to dreaming about killing and eating 
some poor, little furry forest creature. That is what humans prefer, isn't it? 
Real, blooded fire-cooked meat?" She didn't repress her shudder. PhaHks was 
still too far gone to have noticed anyway. 

Veexow had taken the habit of talking softly to him about things. She wanted his 
mind kept busy, even in its delirium, so he would fall down no farther into that 
long, dark sleep. 

She spoke to him of her daily routines, Kol's drunken antics, Rhengars 
therapeutic plans for his recovery,...anything really, just to keep PhaHks 
thinking and maybe even goad him into sitting up and lashing out at the source 
of the noise in order to shut it up. 

Veexow tilted the mushy stuff over his tongue again, gently manipulating his 
throat to encourage the swallow reflex. Her glassy-eyed patient obliged and the 
soup slid down his gullet. 

Very, very slowly, each day, PhaHks' color was returning and his strength 
increasing. But it had been a slow and laborious journey back to relative 
health. 

Veexow, to Rhengars open-faced shock, had insisted on attending to most of			
the patients nursing, including the feeding and bathing of him. Sometimes even 
the changing of PhaHks' bed linen and his anal and urethra drains. 



He suffered bouts of terrible fevers and bone rattling chills in addition to his 
compromised general state. But the ragged wounds had healed well and he no 
longer required Rhengar's breathing apparatus. 

Veexow knew for certain, however, that PhaHks was going to ultimately get well 
when one day, as she was lathering up and disinfecting his privates, he opened 
his eyes, looked down, reddened and spat at her: 

"Fuck off!" 

***** 

Someone was chiming his door. 

No one ever chimed his door. 

Hell bitch, certainly not. 

He would be in any stage of indignity; bare-assed and passed out, showering out 
his pits, crapping on the John, whatever. And through the door she'd steam like 
an out of control locomotive to run rough-shod over him for some rule or other 
of hers that he'd breached. 

Or she'd slither in and start squeezing his cock like a Boa-Constrictor in a 
prelude to one of her fucking marathons. 

Either way, no privacy. 

But someone was *chiming* the door. 

PhaHks opened it to find the Doctor waiting politely. 

"She's not here." PhaHks told him, assuming Hell bitch to be the reason for the 
impromptu visit. 

"I know." The therapist replied and walked in. 

PhaHks hadn't invited him but in the Land of Pointed Ears good manners were a 
rare commodity. 

He didn't really want the doc to stay because he had nothing to say to him. 
Never had. 'Get the fuck away from me!' could just about sum up his part in most 
of their conversations. 

He was sure the feeling was mutual. 

But it looked like Rhengar was here for some reason other than scouting around 
for Hell bitch. 

And - what the hell - he'd been feeling lonely. 

Hollow actually. 

For weeks and weeks since his memorable tangle with DhraH'Ken and all his "fun" 
at Doc's "Palace of Probes", he'd craved company but hadn't got it. 

Hell bitch was treating him like a china cup. 

Display, admire, but don't touch or even breath on it! 

Rhengar circled the room and then came to stand before PhaHks. Right in front of 
him. 

"Veexow,..." 

PhaHks had never heard the Doctor utter her name before. 

"...is obsessed with you." 

It was suddenly feeling very weird in the room. Weird being a relative term. 

Rhengar leaned in, closer, but PhaHks felt un- threatened. It was just...weird. 
Then the one- sided conversation got stranger. 

"I don't know why. Perhaps it is because you are exotic and I am common,..." 

The Romulans voice had dropped to a throaty whisper that forced PhaHks to lean 
in to hear. 

"...perhaps because you are beautiful and I am plain." 

The doctor had come to see him. PhaHks. 

Rhengar was not one for socializing, not even in Hell bitch's chamber as far as 
he knew. Were they fucking each other? He didn't know. 

But she hadn't touched him in weeks. 

Rhengar was so close he could read the humans thoughts. 

"I think she is afraid that you have been damaged..." 

Rhengar stood mere inches away. PhaHks could see the black irises below fine, 
white up sloped brows and blonde hair. Such a contrast to Hell bitch's dark 
looks. And Rhengar was younger. 

He touched PhaHks' chest with the tips of four fingers. 

"..In here. I think she is afraid that if she touches you, you will die." 

PhaHks frowned, puzzled. Nervous. Curious. 

"Will you die, PhaHks?" 

The doctor placed his palm flat against PhaHks' chest and left it there. 

"Will you die, PhaHks, if you are touched?" 

Rhengar slid his hands beneath PhaHks' shirt and up his chest. The quick caress 
made PhaHks inhale quickly and breath quicker afterward. It was scary and alien 
and sensual. He was not calm but he did not run. 

The first gentle touch since DhraH'Ken's cruelties. The first indication in two 
months that he was not something sickening to look upon. That he wouldn't 
crumble into a stink of alien parts (that would have to be disposed of) if they 
got too close to him. 

Someone actually wanted to be near him. 

Rhengar whispered, his lips hovering near PhaHks'. 

"I wonder if her flavor is still on you? I can smell her skin on you, did you 
know that? After you have made love to her, you carry her perfume for days." 

Rhengar kissed him once. A soft touching of open lips. "Washing does not remove 
it." 

PhaHks felt Rhengars wide hands move up his sides and the hairless, muscled arms 
around to his back. 

Rhengar was solid, healing heat. 

Rhengar encircled PhaHks' body as far as his own would allow and kissed him, not 
stopping now. Teased open red lips, inserted slippery tongue and tasted him 
fully. 

PhaHks relaxed completely under the Romulans sexual machinations. 

The seduction had been so tender, so conscious of PhaHks' frail emotional, 
physical and mental state, so beautifully executed, that he gave in to it 
absolutely. Total surrender. 

It was so comforting to be wrapped in anothers warmth and strength that he 
didn't want it to end. Ever. 

The overwhelming experiences of late, the brutal attack, his near death and the 
long bed-ridden weeks had left him so vulnerable and his senses so raped that, 
without warning, PhaHks started crying right there in Rhengars arms. 

He tried to pull away, then, placing his hands on the doctors shoulders to 
facilitate. To push. 

But Rhengar would not let him go. 

Would not acknowledge the embarrassment PhaHks was feeling for his other world 
display. 

Refusing to give the shame any life, Rhengar held him tighter. Kissed his hair 
as PhaHks, head bowed but not touching, wept silently, his shoulders shaking 
from its power. 

"Come here." 

Rhengar walked PhaHks, in little steps, backward toward the bed and gently, 
gently lowered him down onto it, never letting his body separate from the 
humans. 

Laying on top of him, full weight, he so, so tenderly removed PhaHks' clothing 
until he was exposed naked beneath him, the pink flushed gold of PhaHks' skin 
was so far removed from his own yellow flesh. 

Rhengar shed his own layers quickly and kissed him. 

Eyelids, the still wet face. The lips a long time. Soon a little harder, more 
insistent as his desire burned hotter. 

Rhengar covered PhaHks' body, pressing his swollen penis into his patient's 
groin, rocking his hips in circles, until he felt PhaHks' shaft harden equally. 

Rhengar kissed those lips that had kissed hers. He imagined round excited 
breasts jiggling under his movements. 

"She loves you." He spoke in PhaHks' ear soft, sexy whispers that told all. "I 
love her, but I am not allowed. She doesn't want me." The last word was drawn 
out into a sigh of something dying. 

Rhengar wanted her. Would take PhaHks instead. Perhaps he would know her through 
him. Perhaps he would get a hint of her flavor and feel. 

Perhaps... 

Rhengar turned PhaHks over and lay on him, whole surface to whole surface. By 
now he was so hard, it was painful. 

Reaching around, he lifted PhaHks' hips off the bed by a few inches. By 
comparison to his own thickly muscled form, the human was so light that he could 
toss and turn him at will. 

Rhengar took the hard PhaHks penis in one spitted palm, stroking it. Varied the 
intensity because he wanted to hear all the noises humans made. PhaHks was 
panting, but even that made Rhengar moan in anticipation of an unexplored sex 
and the poor creature who was giving it up to him. 

He stroked PhaHks, up and down, harder and faster, the sex organ felt alien 
silky and almost as warm as he was. He slid his hand over it until PhaHks cried 
out, bucking his hips under him and shooting his human cum into Rhengars ready 
hand. 

Rhengar gathered it up and spread the tacky substance between the fuzzy pillows 
of PhaHks' buttocks. 

He raised PhaHks' hips a little more and lined up with that inviting entrance. 

Rhengar imagined his penis driving into Veexow as he inserted one finger into 
the humans hole and then plunged his wet-tipped cock deep into that velvet 
cavern in one delicious thrust. 

Rhengar fucked him slowly, luxuriously at first... 

...and then slammed home harder and harder, his Romulan blood driving him. 
PhaHks' ooohhh-ing and aaahhh-ing made Rhengar's desire flame into a lust that 
was tenfold to its ignition. 

Mindless now, Rhengar shoved it in him to the hilt and out again, faster and 
harder until PhaHks' body was thrown forward and back, forward and back,.. 

...and when he heard PhaHks whimper from the might of his slippery sex plugging 
the holes in the captives body and soul, Rhengar slammed harder, thrusting 
violently until he was body surfing PhaHks as he would a tidal wave. 

Rhengar fucked the human madly, sightlessly, until neither could stand the 
urgent sweetness of it. 

Rhengar imagined Veexow, her smooth ass offered up to him the same way, her 
gasps and moans, her movements and begging of him. 

Then he thought of PhaHks' own surrender and beauty and his virginal part in 
their sexual collision as he rammed his penis deeper and harder into the 
welcoming squeeze. 

Physical laws were broken, time stopped and he was fucking them both! 

The power of it was slick and intoxicating. 

Using the human's words so PhaHks would understand and remember, "I am going to 
fill you so full of my fuck, you will carry it with you forever." Ragged grunts. 
"Someday, she will have this as well." 

Rhengar came, moaning like a Alpha wolf, and gasping open-mouthed as he shot and 
shot into PhaHks, grinding his balls against the exhausted human's quivering 
hips. 

Rhengar shuddered. Softened. 

Released him. 

PhaHks lay falling asleep. 

Rhengar had kissed him a long time at the beginning. At the end just as tenderly 
but in an anxiety to leave. 

PhaHks knew why of course. 

Hell bitch would kill even the good doctor if she ever found out about their 
erotic interlude. And maybe him too. 

Visions of Rhengars thick shaft pumping him and teasing his gland, the round 
chock-full balls slapping his ass and touching, invading hands and lips and 
fingers... 

...replayed in PhaHks' mind as he dozed to sleep. 

The fact that he had done something that would unequivocally infuriate her 
(whether she ever learned of it or not), was very satisfying. 

It compensated, somehow, for a lot of things. 

He had in every way disobeyed his Keeper and that thought took him to restful, 
dreamless sleep,

****

Nearly five years at Kol's stone palace. 

That's what she had told him. 

PhaHks sighed deeply. There was no pool here to soothe the throbbing or the 
stiffness of his right arm. 

Six months since that delightful encounter with the knife and his arm still 
ached at night and moved like sloth. But at least he was allowed to walk freely 
where he liked now (not outside of course), and do pretty much what he pleased 
whenever Hellbitch didn't require his presence. 

Like at their shared meals. (He would have preferred to eat alone but then it 
made no difference anyway. His preferences were never discussed). 

Or when she got hot and bothered and desired his flesh, (just about ALL the time 
lately). But his preferences for when and how often they screwed was, again, not 
a consideration. 

Today he was lonely and bored, bored, bored! Mostly lonely. 

He'd already taken a run for the second time down the long, cool corridors. This 
place didn't have any "Great Hall" to use as a track. 

Now the day was only half over and he'd already run out of ideas on how to kill 
the rest of it. So it was a rare occassion that PhaHks winded his way through 
Kol's hallways and found himself knocking on Hellbitch's door. 

Nobody home. 

But she'd left the door wide so he wandered in and looked around. There was 
nothing to see that he hadn't seen before. Not since she'd finally allowed him 
to return to his own room to sleep at night after he was healed up. 

He would never admit to missing sleeping next to her warm body, but at least 
he'd been provided with a decent bed and not just a goddamn *ledge*! 

One thing was different. When he came the rest of the way in, he saw it. 

The computer screen had been left on. 

Hell bitch had never, ever allowed him use of a computer. She had explained that 
he would be unable to read the language anyway. 

He'd requested that she teach him. 

She had said that the information would be mostly incomprehensible to him. 

He'd suggested that she only allow him access to the pictures then, please. At 
least those!. 

She had grown very angry. 

He had dropped the subject altogether. 

Not once in all the time he'd been with her had he used one of her computer 
terminals. She always turned them off. She always locked him out. 

So this was Christmas! 

Checking the door, PhaHks sat down immediately. 

Surreptitiously looking over her shoulder all those years, PhaHks had learned a 
few things. Like how to turn the damn things on and off, that is, which control 
did it. And how to screen advance/retreat and which button did that. 

PhaHks looked at the rest of the symbols on			the control pad 
in front of him (no keyboard, even, just a flat, backlit control panel. Goddamn				
serious high tech' shit). The markings were a complete fucking mystery. 

He played around with a couple other controls but they seemed to do nothing. 
And, not wanting to leave any sign that he'd been screwing around with her 
private computer, he settled for what he did know and advanced the screen by 
one. 

It did not scroll by, like what he was used to. It would switch from one screen 
to the next, like channels. Like television he figured, but this stuff obviously 
wasn't filmed or even live. 

The first dozen or so screens were more rows and rows of what looked to him like 
Hebrew-Chinese. 

The one after that was grafts and schematics of who-the-fuck-knew. And the next 
one was... 

PhaHks stared and stared. Stared some more until his eyes dried out. A big, 
round, black pupils stare. 

A picture of a woman and a man. Well, not exactly "pictures", more like 
computer- generated representations of them. But good ones: full-bodied nudes. 
And - jesus! - they were beautiful. The woman anyway. 

The next screen he couldn't figure out at first. Red, white and purple... 

...body parts. Medical shit. 

He retreated the screen. Wanted to see Miss Centerfold again. 

But then he went back. The body parts were really real looking. They looked 
like... 

PhaHks advanced another screen. Then two, then three, four, five, six... 

Two human beings under the process of dissection. Like someone had kept a visual 
record of the categorization, labeling and preservation. The pieces being 
sprayed in some sort of polymer resin. The quick-dry variety. 

Little sculptures of people meat. 

Grafts, blueprints,.. screens of chemical formulas. Some he actually recognized. 


Then screen after screen of: 

Eyeballs (and diagrams), 

Brain sections (schematics), 

Hearts (graphs), 

Livers and kidneys (more formulas), 

Sinews, bones and muscle, bisected lungs. 

But the *piece-de-resistance* was the paperweight Embryo. 

Tiny, curled up little blind human who would never see mom and dad. 

PhaHks was shaking, bile threatening to announce itself all over Hell bitch's 
private terminal. 

That night, when she showed herself for the purpose of fucking him, he sprayed 
acidic puke all over her yellow tits just as he came. 

** 

Veexow cleaned herself off in her pressure shower, concerned over PhaHks' sudden 
illness. He hadn't mentioned feeling unwell (though he had looked a trifle 
pale), nor had he said much afterward. 

Over the following day or two, he would experience no more attacks of vomiting 
that she knew of, yet would remain sullen and withdrawn. 

*** 

When she approached Kol's sleep chamber, DhraH'Ken was there, just exiting. 

Her intention was to ignore him until he stopped her hand on the door panel by 
grasping her wrist. 

"How is he?" she asked. 

"I am his Sworn-One, not his nurse." 

"Then I shall see him." 

DhraH'Ken, however, did not relinquish her hand. 

"When I heard you had arrived on Kol'keK, I decided to come and kill you." 

She stared back defiantly. Two old fierce warriors eyed each other like beasts 
in the arena. 

"How-" She jerked her arm and he let her hand free "-did you know I was 
coming?". 

"I am a warrior, I knew, that is all. I knew you would come here to hide your 
human toy." 

Her smile was contemptuous. "Was that all, the reason of a warrior? Did you come 
here only to restore honor to Kol?" 

"Why do you care?" 

"Because if I learn it was for any other reason, other than for the sake of 
Kol's honor and good name, If I learn you have pledged yourself to him under a 
lie just to get to me, I will kill you myself." 

"Courageous words for an Unwanted. No, killing the human was enough. My honor is 
intact and I have fulfilled my vow to Kol,.." 

DhraH'Ken exposed his forearm to her. It bore a fresh knife cut and was oozing 
purple blood. 

"..And now he has fulfilled his to me." 

Veexow looked upon the wound, her blood running cold because of its 
implications. DhraH'Ken was now Kol's heir, as good as next of kin. Kol's name, 
if not his blood line, would continue. 

"Kol is dying? I must see him." 

"See him or do not, I do not care. But when he has crossed over the River of 
Blood, Kol'keK will be mine." 

Talk of Kol's death disturbed her for many reasons, not least of which the 
safety of PhaHks, despite DhraH'Ken's words. 

"You have seen to events well, DhraH'Ken. You should have been a Romulan." 

"And you have caused your own destruction because you allow your passions to 
dictate your fate instead of honor or reason. You would have made an excellent 
human." 

It was his best insult and he left her there. 

Veexow entered Kol's quarters. The decor was a Warrior's taste. Uncomfortable 
chairs, battle art, the inevitable blades adorning one black stone wall. 

It was powerful and dark and fierce looking. Not at all like Kol himself. 

He was sitting up in bed (his bed was anything but a metal shelf), a large 
square affair, thick and comfortable and buried in skin blankets and fur. Kol 
himself was nearly buried. 

"I came to see how you are feeling." Veexow moved to sit beside him. Kol's fever 
had not run its course. His color was darker than usual. 

"I'm old." he said. 

Veexow took his hand. She still felt the old warmth that had once fired their 
passions. It had dwindled to coals but it was a good feeling still. 

"You should have told me Kol." 

"I thought he would have forgotten all that Veexow." 

"I meant your health but, no, Klingon warriors do not forget or forgive so 
easily." 

"He was just a boy." 

"A boy learning to be a warrior aboard his fathers ship. A ship for which I gave 
the order for destruction." 

Kol was a priest, she thought, he would not have considered such things. Would 
not have counted on the long memory and heart of vengeance inherent in the 
warrior class. 

Having commanded a vessel and ordering the deaths of many over decades of 
service in the Romulan Fleet, she had come to understand that she was more a 
warrior than Kol. 

Kol shifted uncomfortably, "PhaHks is dead in DhraH'Ken's eyes. He will not 
touch either of you now." 

"I do not share your optimism. DhraH'Ken's father died because of me. How can we 
stay here now, PhaHks and I? How can I be certain DhraH'Ken will keep his word 
and not harm him?" 

"Because as long as I am alive, DhraH'Ken will do nothing to dishonor me. He is 
a *warrior*, Veexow." 

Veexow did not address the question of how long a life Kol was to have. He did 
not look well at all and it pained her to see it. 

"You never told me why you left, you know." she said. 

Kol seemed a trifle surprised at the question, and shifted to a higher, more 
comfortable position. 

"How could I? You were to be a Commander in the Imperial Fleet. What was I but a 
priest. And one about to be expelled from the order because of the unforgivable 
act of wanting to take as mate a Romulan woman. In those days, it was un- heard 
of." 

She knew all this. "I suppose I was foolish to think we could have been 
together." she admitted. 

"We were young and foolish in matters of love. Well, YOU were young, I was just 
foolish." 

"Was that the only reason, Kol, or was I the reason you left? Had we been able 
to mate, would you have made the Call?" 

She was referring to the Klingon warriors way. The Call of Mating, a vocal 
display. The public vow. 

Kol looked sideways at her, cleared his throat. "You were everything I would 
never be, Veexow. Powerful, influential. I don't know that I could have lived 
under the shadow of so great a female." 

He was trying to be tender. Veexow nodded. He would not have stayed. "It was me, 
then." she answered. "Tell me why." 

Kol frowned. "Oh, you wish to keep him. This is about the human again." He was 
insulted. 

"No, this is about me. What is it about me that drove you away?" 

"You are beautiful and intelligent, Veexow. You also have the fierce passion of 
a Klingon woman - there - I have paid you a great compliment." 

She smiled. Coming from a Klingon male, it was. 

"But you are ambitious and though you claimed to have loved and respected me, I 
doubt you would have been content spending the rest of your life with a man you 
couldn't wholly dominate." 

She dropped her eyes at shared memories, but she was not sad. "We did have some 
glorious battles, didn't we?" 

"Yes." 

"What is this illness, Kol?" 

He was unprepared for the change of topic. 

"It is nothing unusual for a Klingon my age who has overindulged in the best 
things." 

Meaning drink. 

Veexow searched his eyes. "You are an exceptional Klingon, Kol. I did love you, 
you know." 

He was embarrassed and dealt with it Klingon fashion. "You'd better go be with 
that human before he thinks you've come back to me." 

Veexow kissed him once, on the lips, lingering. "I remember that." 

She didn't leave. "Kol, about DhraH'Ken..." 

"Do not worry about him. As far as he is concerned, the human is dead. The fact 
that Doctor saved his life is of no consequence to a warrior." He maneuvered 
himself to a flat position again. "Now there is a creature who will never leave 
you. That Romulan has no ambition what-so-ever." 

Veexow eyed him affectionately. Kol had always been jealous of Rhengar. 

"Will you be all right?" 

He knew she meant his illness and he replied in philosophical standard. 

"If death came to call, who am I that it should turn away?" 

Politely, she said no more. Kol must be allowed to retain his Klingon pride in 
the face of his impending end. 

She left him to rest. 

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