a Klingon love story
written by Glenn Lash
K'Noid's muscular limbs are heavy and useless
As if weighted down with the
chains of his enemies
Fire burns his eyes, but he does not cry out
He rubs
the pebbles of sleep from them,
Averts his gaze from the sun and marches
on
Through the streets of the capital on another Monday morning.
Howls of
fury and bellows of vengeance greet K'Noid
From every street corner, for
traffic is backed up
And Klingons do not gladly wait on line.
Shuttlecars
crowd the avenue before K'Noid,
Blocking his path as far as the eye can
see.
His destination is in sight, but frustratingly out of reach.
With a
mighty howl, K'Noid leaps atop the nearest shuttle.
The annoyed driver swings
a mek'leth at his legs,
But K'Noid moves with lightning
speed,
Leaping from shuttle to shuttle with the agility of a
mugato
Until he stands triumphant on the other side of the
street,
Shouting his name so that all may know it, and share his
glory.
The drivers shout curses at him, but he knows in their hearts
They
are jealous and awed by his valor and courage.
With a shove from K'Noid's
mighty arms, he thrusts open the door
And strides confidently into the pizza
parlor.
There, behind the counter, is his goal, the chalice of his
longing.
He pours a steaming cup of raktajino and inhales its
bittersweet fragrance.
He takes a mighty gulp of the scalding hot liquid,
ignoring the pain.
When he lowers his mug, an ethereal beauty stands before
him
Such as his eyes have never beheld!
It is Valtress, daughter of
Reklahr, newly hired for the counter.
K'Noid drinks her in as well;
Her
cleavage swells like two enormous melons pressed in a vise,
Ready to burst
forth their ripe, juicy sweetness
Her teeth are sharp and white, and one
peeks out the side of her mouth
In a most comely manner.
Her eyes are dark
pits, with fire swirling in their depths
Into which K'Noid feels he could
lose himself for an eternity.
"I am K'Noid, son of Maktrech, and you must be
Valtress,
Our new counter wench!" bellows K'Noid confidently.
"Your name
precedes you, mighty delivery-warrior!
You were shouting it outside for the
last ten minutes."
K'Noid growls low in his throat. She likes
me.
Soon both suns are high in the sky, and K'Noid's work begins.
Another day's battle with Time.
K'Noid flies through the streets of the
capital,
Delivering pies faster than the eye can see.
Klingon warriors on
their lunch breaks gasp
As large pizza pies appear before them,
Seemingly
by magic and with everything on them.
Only later to discover their money
sacks magically lighter as well
By the agreed-upon amount, plus an honorable
ten percent.
Other Klingons' only awareness of K'Noid occurs
When the
shockwave hits them, and their windows explode.
Eventually all pies are
delivered; another day is done.
K'Noid has defeated Time once again.
He is soaked in proud warrior's
sweat.
His body reeks in testament to a battle hard-fought and won.
Not
all of Kahless' army reeked as much
After the Battle of Arduk, and their long
march home.
He pauses for a moment in the shade of a kirok tree.
A
flock of dirons falls from its branches, dead before they hit the
ground.
K'Noid, proud of his warrior's scent, returns to the pizza
parlor.
Valtress is cleaning up, preparing to close for the night.
K'Noid
surreptitiously flaps his arms in her direction.
She shows no reaction, but
K'Noid knows she received his proud bouquet.
Her stubborn refusal to
acknowledge his fragrance angers him.
"Why do you pretend not to perceive my
tang, woman?" K'Noid shouts,
"Are you afraid if you acknowledge it, your
passions will carry you away?"
"Your aroma?" she inhales deeply,
contemplating.
"I smell nothing but stale lilacs. I have smelled little girls
with stronger scents."
K'Noid leaps over the counter to face the insolent
Valtress.
Mere inches away, he can smell her bouquet too.
Her scent
touches something deep inside him,
Bestirring his mighty loins from their
long slumber.
With a clamorous roar, K'Noid swings his gnarled warrior's fist
To smash into Valtress' mouth with the comely snaggle tooth.
She does not
try to defend herself, but takes the full brunt of his attack
She lands on
the floor, blood already pouring from her lip.
"I...am...sorry," she begins,
"were you attempting to initiate a mating ritual,
Or did I have a piece of
gagh on my lip?"
Infuriated by her continued insults, K'Noid leaps at
her,
Only to find Valtress blindingly quick as well.
In a flash, she
disappears into the darkened kitchen,
Only to find herself cornered, with no
route of escape
But over, or through K'Noid himself,
Who drops his spice
belt to the floor and starts his advance.
At once he is assaulted by flying
kitchen implements.
Knives, forks, cutting boards, pots, pans, bags of flour,
mixing bowls,
All fly at K'Noid with punishing accuracy.
Valtress is a
kitchenware hurricane, or at least she seems so to K'Noid.
He tries to avoid
her onslaught, to no avail.
With a sickening crunch to his spiny skull mighty
K'Noid is felled.
Mere moments later K'Noid looks up from a spreading pool of
his own blood.
To see the kitchen sink, with which mighty Valtress laid him low
K'Noid is
more pleased to see Valtress herself,
Standing in the empty corner, panting,
with a glazed look in her eyes.
They remain that way for a moment, a striking
tableau of demolition.
Valtress' corner is empty, bereft of any furniture,
fixture or utensil,
While everything in the store is piled on K'Noid's side,
As though the kitchen were a starship with faulty inertial
dampeners.
K'Noid uses the kitchen table to haul himself up,
And prepares
for another onslaught.
In a final, futile effort to fend off her own passion,
Valtress tears the bulwark itself from its foundations and hurls it at
K'Noid.
As Honor requires, K'Noid takes the full brunt of the collapse,
Allowing his body to be pummeled by stone and mortar,
Block and cement
and brick and epoxy and
Sweat and muscle and bone and tongue and
lips.
Valtress lands upon him before the battlement hits the floor
They
fall back in a tangle of limbs onto the kitchen table
Soon they are covered
in flour and lost in each other
Their passion is a supernova in the cold void
of space.
The kitchen walls are scorched from their heat
Paint peels, pots
and pans melt,
Vermin are baked alive in their holes,
And it is fortunate
that the floor is equipped with a drain.
Finally, they collapse on each
other, spent,
Reeking of their savage love, barely conscious,
They are
only dimly aware of the applause of the congregation
That has gathered
outside the hole in the wall.
The audience will bear their image for
generations to come,
Proudly telling their children and grandchildren
That they were witness to the lovemaking of K'Noid and Valtress,
Proud
Warriors of the service Empire.