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Archive name: Trek13.txt
Authors name: PJ
Story Title:  TREK STORY: WORF MEETS HIS MATCH
PART 1 OF 2


----------------------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 1998.  Please don't remove
the author information or make any changes to this story.  You may 
post freely to non-commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of
commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration.
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               A New Chapter: Worf Meets his Match - 1
	       ---------------------------------------


  The scene was reminiscent of some he had witnessed during his
recent experiences in the Klingon Empire during the revolution. Ten
Forward was a wreck, drapes smoldering, transparent dura-plast
tables smashed, crew members lying about like scattered children's
toys. After making a quick appraisal, he slapped his comm-badge
angrily and growled, "Worf to Sick Bay! We need a medical team to
Ten Forward, several crew members with light to moderate injuries!"

  His security team was already picking their way through the
wreckage, seeing to immediate first aid where necessary, others
questioning dazed-looking people who seemed unhurt. Worf himself
stepped across what had once been a chair, and stood before the
bar. Before him Guinan stood with her head cradled on her arms,
bent over the bar, her shoulders shaking. "Are you injured?" he
asked her gruffly, but with real concern tinging his voice. The
enigmatic woman looked briefly up at him, grinning like a loon,
before letting her head fall again on her arms to continue laughing
helplessly. 

  "This is not a laughing matter!" Worf told her more
sternly. "What happened here?" Guinan looked up again, tears
standing in her eyes from the laughter. She was still unable to
answer him, but pointed across the room weakly. Following her
gesture, Worf's eyes found a figure who seemed utterly out of
place, a woman dressed in an immaculate white cling-suit, holding
a drink and looking out the viewport at the stars.

  What Worf did not notice was how unusual the woman was. To another
human, she would have appeared majestic, statuesque, unusually tall
and heavy-built. To the Klingon security chief, she was just
another fragile human, smaller than he, and likely to break if he
was not cautious. Worf, always the consummate warrior, walked up
to her obliquely, some vigilant reflex within him watching for a
sudden move or attack. He could see from her stance and the tension
in her body that she was equally aware of his approach and prepared
to defend if necessary. Some part of him heartily approved, but he
had a duty. "Worf, Security: I require your assistance," the
Klingon announced. The strange woman ignored him, seeming lost in
her reverie, but his battle training took in minute changes in
stance and breathing, telling him that she was well aware of his
presence. "It is a violation of regulations to refuse to answer an
inquiry from a Security officer!" he growled. She turned then, all
at once in a motion so graceful that it didn't even startle his
reflexes into causing him to strike. But now she was well inside
arms' reach, and could attack if she chose. He restrained his
impulse to step back, but braced himself for possible combat. 

  "I haven't refused you anything. You have had my full attention
since you stepped into this room," she answered him at last. She
had a full, throaty contralto, very much like that of the Ship's
Counsellor, but unlike Deanna Troi, her accents were more fluid and
almost songlike. Looking at her made even Worf, with his Klingon
standards of beauty, look again. She was over six feet tall,
although not as tall as the Klingon. Her hair was a luminescent
white, caught up in braided loops all around her head, seeming like
an abstract ice sculpture executed by some great artist. Despite
the white hair, her face was young and unlined, and looking up at
him, he saw that she had the bluest eyes he had ever seen. 

  "What has happened here?" he asked her at last, shaking himself
slightly as if to shift mental gears from his silent appraisal of
the beautiful woman. "And please identify yourself!"

  The woman frowned a bit at his tone, crossed her arms and threw
back her head, challenge dancing in her steely eyes. 

     "Fair Marika, Aino's daughter, 
     daughter of the Seventh Planet, 
     miner's daughter in the foothills! 
     Starfleet trained in engineering, 
     learned to sing the very lightning, 
     learned to twist the antimatter, 
     specialist in engine systems,
     knows the ways of starship systems..."

  Worf was utterly confused by her rhythmic recitation, and angered
by her lack of cooperation. He gritted his teeth, a sight that at
times even caused those of his crew mates who were used to his moods
to blanch, although this woman seemed not to notice. Throttling
down his ancestral impulses to mayhem, he interrupted her and asked
again for her name, rank, and an account of what had happened to
destroy the rec area. He had hardly finished speaking his demand
when she hissed at him in flawless Klingonaase, "Do'Ha' 'e'
chovangvIp, nuch! Salamqangbe' 'etlhwIj!"

  Only Starfleet training could have kept him from killing her where
she stood, as the harsh tones of the mightiest insult of his people
rolled over him.  What might have happened next remained
conjecture, however, for just then one of his security officers
approached to report on the team's findings. "Lieutenant, Sir,
injuries have been treated. We've found out what happened here and
have taken a suspect into custody, Sir!" 

  Worf's dark eyes remained locked on the woman's lighter ones a
moment yet, before he was able to tear his gaze away from her,
force control back over his anger, erecting his training like a
castle wall to avoid attacking this female human before him. "Do
not leave yet," he told her. "I wish to question you momentarily!"
He was able to relax a bit when she shrugged and turned back to the
starscape visible behind her. 

  After conferring with his team, he found that his instincts were
in fact correct, that the strange woman had, indeed been involved.
Witnesses reported that she had been challenging all comers to arm
wrestling bouts, with the loser to buy drinks for the winner. She
had won every round, and despite the massive quantities of alcohol
she had won and imbibed, was still able to win again and again. The
problem was not the arm-wrestling, however, but the side bets that
were being placed as first this and then that Enterprise crew member
faced her and lost. The precipitating event for the small riot that
had taken place was when one large, aggressive male sciences
officer had bet an entire month's credits on his victory. He sat
down to the table with the big woman and locked wrists with her,
but when the word was given to begin, she folded his arm over as
easily as if he had been a child. The blow to his pride was too
much, and he jumped up and swung on the ice-woman, but she was
suddenly not there. His fist had instead flattened a transporter
technician, and the brawl began. 

  Worf nodded his understanding, and gave appropriate orders to his
team, dismissing them to their duties. Then he turned back to the
woman and the challenge that she had left burning in the air
between them. "That form of insult must have an answer!" he told
her. "Are you aware of what you have said?" he snarled, his Klingon
pride warring within him with his Starfleet training. 

  "Of course I am aware. I have tendered you the deadliest insult
of your people, as you have tendered the worst of mine to me!" she
answered, her back still to him. The liquid quality of her voice
seemed to negate the memory of the accentless Klingonaase she had
spoken earlier. 

  "Insult!?" he snapped, "I gave no insult!" 

  "Oh yes you did!" she returned, "you asked me for my name and
station and then INTERRUPTED my runo! My sisu DEMANDS that you make
apology and amends!"

  Worf was not so blinded by his fury that he failed to note the
keystone to this entire strange encounter. "Runo" and "sisu" ---
this woman was from New Helsinki, a heavy-gravity world settled by
a homogenous ethnic group from Earth back before the Eugenics Wars.
The Helsinkinen were touchy, pride-conscious, and clung fiercely
to their heritage. Worf had heard it said many times at the Academy
that no Helsinkinen sailor, whether it was in a wet navy or in
Starfleet, had ever lost a fist-fight, nor backed down from any
sort of rough-and-tumble that came along. "I will apologize and
withdraw my insult," he told her, fury still adding gravel to his
voice, "if you will do the same." Sometimes, he thought, catering
the customs of other peoples was more trouble than it was worth,
especially when a warrior's soul was crying out within him for
blood.

  Her sudden smile was like the sun leaping free of clouds. She
put her hand out to him and again in that perfect unaccented
Klingonaase said, "ChoHoHvIpbe'neS - batlh Daqawlu'taH!" 

  He gravely took her hand and answered in Standard, "I apologize for
my rudeness. I was not aware that I was transgressing against the
customs of your people." Her grip was painfully strong, surprising
him almost more than the spate of harsh syllables. This so
surprised him that a small portion of his brain could only say,
stunned, "Be'le'!" -- "What an exceptional woman!"

  She smiled again, still holding his hand tightly, and said, "I
think you are a very exceptional man as well, Security Chief Worf!
I have heard much about you! Please, let me introduce myself more
correctly, if less formally. I am Marika, and I'm assigned to
Engineering as a Propulsion Systems Specialist, rank, Lieutenant.
Better?" She cocked her head to the side as she waited for his
reply, making her look tiny and delicate to his amazed regard. 

  Did I actually speak out loud? he wondered to himself. But she was
waiting for his reply. "Much better," he answered, "I did not mean
to misunderstand you before." He was rapidly becoming aware that
for the first time he could remember, he was physically, sexually
attracted to a non-Klingon woman. He disengaged his hand from her
warm grasp. "I must return to my duties." he told her curtly.

  There was that grin again. "I did give you an imperative challenge,
Mr. Worf! Perhaps when you are not on duty, you would meet me at
Rec Area 4, where we will do combat, but perhaps without bloodshed
a necessary element! I shall see you there!" She moved past him
with that uncanny grace again, sliding by him without seeming to
move, then she was gone, ducking under the arm of one the
housekeeping crew that had come to set Ten Forward back to rights.

  Worf was arroused...

Continued in part 2...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It’s okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with strangers. But
it isn’t okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with strangers!!  You only
have one body per lifetime, so take good care of it.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
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