Bloodwine and Honor

An aged klingon with steel grey hair, a missing left eye and a scar that turned his lips into a permanent snarl sat at the bar on Deep Space Nine, a ferengi stood across from him cleaning glasses. The Klingon had come to know him well over the last few weeks, he was stranded aboard the Federation station until the Freighter that would take him to Kolchak Three docked in the morning, the bar was empty with the exception for the Klingon and it's owner, Quark. The elderly klingon nursed a cold mug of bloodwine and grumbled under his breath. His youth far behind him, his battles written down in history and forgotten when the younger warrior accomplished his own. When you look at him you see an over the hill warrior with scars and stories of battles, of honor and victories that amounted to little in the vast klingon empire. His family honored him but in soft tones.

Kol entered Quark's Bar, his eyes immediately locked on the only other person in the bar besides the Ferengi tending the half-drunk warrior. Kol approached and loomed over the aged warrior, he picked up a nearby mug and slammed it on the counter. "PetaQ!" He roared, the elderly klingon did not stir. He took another drink of his bloodwine and remained calm. The Ferengi behind the bar stood forward, "Order something or get out of my bar.." he said with bluster, shallow bluster. The young warrior turned his gaze to the Ferengi and leaned over the counter, he grabbed the Ferengi by his jacket.

"Who are you! You gutless Ferengi!" Demanded Kol. The Ferengi's courage suddenly vanished, "Quark! My name is Quark!" Kol smiled, revealing rows of sharpened teeth. "I suggest you leave the room." Said the Klingon, the elderly Klingon nearby paid no attention. He continued to sip at his bloodwine. Quark hurried out of the bar and into the promenade. "Constable!" He shouted as he ran.

Kol turned back to the old klingon and struck him hard across the jaw with the back of his hand and spit on him in one fluid motion. "Fight me coward!" He said as he drew his D'k tahg. The elderly klingon spat a wad of blood into Kol's eyes and lunged at him, the two klingons fell over the bar in a shower of synthol and chorus of howls. Kol kicked the old man in the chest, sending him back into the bar. He reached out for his D'k Tahg but all he felt was sudden pain in the jaw when a boot struck him across the face, the elderly Klingon was fast, faster then Kol would have imagined from such a man. He swept the knife aside and stood between Kol and his weapon.

"If you wish to kill me, you must do it with your bare hands.." Spoke the warrior, Kol lunged forward but the elderly Klingon was faster. He stepped to the left, grabbed Kol by his uniform and slammed him head first into the bar, Kol's head snapped back, a spray of sharpened teeth flew from his mouth but Kol was not that easily beaten. He lashed out with an elbow that struck the aged klingon in the gut and sent him staggering, he followed up with a heel kick to the knee that brought the warrior down.

He stood over the warrior, his hand raised and ready to drive the nasal bone into his skull with his palm. "I wish to know the name of the warrior that will put me into the Hall Of Heroes!" Growled Kol, the elderly klingon began to laugh. Kol's face turned from anger to pure surprise. "What is so funny traitor!" He demanded, but the warrior continued to laugh as if all of this was just a bad joke. After a moment he spoke, "Your a fool to believe the things you were told of me." Said the old man, Kol looked into the warrior's eyes and saw no deception. "Your so called honor will get you killed! You take my head to the Council and then your head will roll next to mine!" He barked and began to laugh again.

Kol stared into the old warriors eyes in disbelief. He shook off the doubt at the words of his commanding officer. "Eternal honor will be yours." His mouth filled with blood, thoughts of his name being told in places of honor for generations ran through his mind. Just as he decided to end the old man's life, he felt a sharp pain which only could have been a cold blade enter his chest. He looked down to see his D'k Tahg sticking out of his chest, the blade hilt deep into his heart. He felt his legs give and sunk to his knees, the old man's hand was still wrapped around the grip of the knife. His eyes followed the arm to it's owners face.

"Who are you?" He asked as he felt the blade pull from his chest with a loud sucking sound. "I am Maruh Durak, Son of Rogh. Captain of the I.K.S. Bagh Daq' Iw, My name will be known to your son's son's and spoken with honor long after you are forgotten." Maruh bared his teeth and kicked the dying klingon over. He walked calmly around the bar to find his bloodwine spilled over the floor, "What a waste." he said before tossing the mug over the counter and stuck Kol's blade, slick with his blood into the metal bar and walked out of Quarks, his heart pounded in excitement. Finally, after decades of crawling about the galaxy it was time to return to his crew and his beloved wife. Now, he can return to his time...
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