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The young Klingon lieutenant slowly opened his eyes as the effects of his forced hibernation began to wear off. Quietly, he sat in his seat at his navigation console moving only his eyes to see what was going on around him. His commander remained asleep in his chair as did the ship's first officer and the weapon's officer. In fact, he quickly discovered himself to be the only one awake.
He then moved his head side to side to stretch his stiff neck muscles and slowly sat up in his chair. "Somehow," he thought to himself, "I'm still alive." He then slowly got onto his feet, stretching to relieve the stiffness throughout his body. Once able, he checked the bridge computer system to see what was left of the ill fated battlecruiser. With only reserve power, he got nothing of worth from it.
"Commander, Commander," he said firmly as he nudged his sleeping Commander in an attempt to awaken him, "you need to awaken, Sir."
Awake the commander did, drawing his dag'tagh and putting it to his throat thinking he was still under attack. His young lieutenant froze, startled, at the quick reaction of his commander with wide eyes. Once the Commander realized who was at the blade of his knife, he withdrew it. Since Klingons don't apologize, he simply asked, "where are we."
"Unknown, Sir," replied the lieutenant, "I couldn't get the main computer online."
Together, both men began awakening the bridge crew. After a time, intercom communication was established with engineering. As it turned out, only about twenty officers and crew remained alive from the battle that disabled their ship and sent it adrift.
The engineer himself was young too, being the only survivor in the section. His Chief lay dead and half decayed from injury. He heard the repeated call coming over the com system that slowly brought him back to consciousness. He finally answered it, explaining he was the only survivor.
"What is the ship's status?" asked the Commander.
"Standby," he answered as he went to find an answer.
The ship's main computer system was offline and inoperable and the ship's main reactor destroyed. The only power available was reserve and even it was limited as for an unknown time, it had kept life support going as it was supposed to for those who remained.
The young engineer, still wounded himself, gave his commander an answer he knew he wouldn't like.
"Sir, the main reactor is destroyed. The only power we have is some reserve." After a short silence, "I'm all that is left down here and I won't survive long without medical attention."
Commander Martok sat quietly in his seat with what crew remained around him. Death was certain unless help would arrive. But where were they? Who might come?
"We're sitting ducks," he said. "No sensors, no weapons and not much life support left." He sat and thought some more, the crew only sitting silent to save what little energy they had.
"Can you get me some back up communications or short range sensors?" he asked the engineer.
With what little strength he had, the engineer activated a reserve battery. It was the only other source of power remaining.
"Sir, you have a battery hook-up," he told Martok, "but it will only last a couple of hours. I...uh.."
It would be his last words as he succumbed to injury and radiation burns and sickness. Martok turned to his first officer, "he died honorably. Enter it in the ship's log."
The lieutenant began seeing what he could activate on his system. With only battery power, the options weren't much better. "Sir," he explained, "I can send a distress call and give you a few minutes of short range sensors.
"Make it so," replied Martok.
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Doc Holliday and the Klingons, pt. 2[b]
The young yet old human flew his freighter load of pharmaceuticals en route to a small base in the Omega systems. Grateful for his new lease on life, he opted for a quiet life as a trader with that occasional trip to a bar to make some extra money gambling. Although now he preferred a quieter life, he still drew a fast gun and still wasn't afraid to use it. As he flew threw the Omicron Gamma's outer limits, a strange reading appeared on his scope as did a very faint distress call of unknown origins. It wasn't Corsair, Outcast, Zoner or even Bounty Hunter in signature. Confused and curious, he disengaged his cruise engine and slowly approached under impulse.
It was a ship he had never seen. It was huge compared to his own and heavily battle scarred. It had a light coating of Gamma organisms that lived in the cloud which hid it's signature from scans. He read very low power readings and the signature of twenty unknown humanoids.
As the ship was being scanned, the nav computer gave off a soft alarm. The Klingon lieutenant saw it and became excited, "Sir, we are being scanned."
Martok rose from his seat, "by whom?"
"Unknown, Sir," replied the lieutenant, "it's not any signature in our memory."
"Scan the ship scanning us....if you can," ordered Martok.
The lieutenant did as ordered. It took longer than normal but he got enough for a report. "The ship is of unknown origin. It somewhat resembles a Romulan runabout but it's signature is different."
"Weapons?" asked Martok.
"Moderately, Sir, but not near enough to be Romulan," replied the lieutenant. As the scan continued, a hail came through.
"To unidentified ship, this is freighter captain Doc Holliday, may I be of assistance?" The Klingon crew just looked at each other at the human voice. They sat wondering what their fate would be.
"I know I'll die honorably out here, Sir, but he may be our only chance for help," said the 1st officer to Martok. Martok nodded in agreement.
"This is Commander Martok of the Klingon warship Ketarra, where are we?" asked Martok.
"You are in the Omicron Theta system of Sirius space," answered Doc.
"Sirius space? Omicron Theta? Is there such a place?" asked Martok to his young lieutenant. He only shook his head.
"Holy, Khaless, we have drifted and slept a long time," replied Martok under his breath.
"Mr. Holliday," began Martok, we have little power left. I would be greatful for your help. We can't beam aboard but we can dock you. We need medical help and safety."
With that, the experimental freighter docked to the beaten old warship. As the docking door opened, Doc cautiously greeted the crew, his Rheinland side arm handy beneath his long, black coat. As Martok neared him, he coughed briefly as Martok approached. Doc, who was no stranger to hostility, felt uneasy being out numbered twenty to one.
"Excuse my caution, Sir, but my trust must be earned as I'm sure yours must be," stated Doc.
Martok replied, "that it must Mr. Holliday. I........we are greatful for your help. If you take us to safe refuge, we will not burden you."
"Do you have many friends, Commander Martok?" asked Doc.
"Only my crew," replied Martok.
"Do you believe in friendship?" again asked Doc. Martok only nodded.
"Do you believe in honor?" asked Doc.
"It is the code of the Klingon warrior," declared Martok.
"I see," replied Doc, "it is mine as well. You would have liked a late friend of mine if honor is your creed. He was a law man, the best in the business and very honorable. Even his enemies respected him for it."
Doc continued, "I was a dentist by trade but I found more sport in gambling and even bartering."
"We find sport in a good fight," said Martok, "but, until we can get needed help, we'll have to wait."
"If it is a fight you enjoy then I'll be sure to introduce you to some Xenos," answered Doc, "people who's mere existence I greatly disapprove of. There are others I feel the same of."
"I think you and I will get along well, Mr. Holliday," answered Martok.
Doc extended his hand, "you, Sir, may call me Doc."
Martok extended his own hand and as they shook, "Doc, call me Martok."
As his crew entered the freighter, Martok introduced each Klingon to their new friend, the last of which hurried in from setting the self destruct sequence on the remainder of the warship, carrying an unmarked crate.
"Doc, you may want to get going as our ship will self destruct in about 5 minutes."
Doc wasted no time. As he left the system, the warship exploded sending a shock wave that would wipe out anything within the vector. As they traveled, the Klingons were given access to what medicines they needed and what food rations were available.
"Synth paste" read a package. Upon tasting it, one crew member grimaced and said, "I can't wait for some gaqh or fresh meat."
The trip would take a full day that would include an encounter with Xeno ships which were no match for the ship's armament. The would arrive on planet Manhattan where they finally disembarked onto solid ground for the first time in, as it would turn out, in years. Doc brought them to the Liberty security service, who would offer what help was available and begin working with them.
Doc and Martok became friends, good friends and Doc would become a liaison for them as they began to assimilate into the new life they had found. Records from their ship's computer enabled LPI to make sense of what had happened and get them sent in the right direction to rebuild the ship they so missed. The Klingons, although they would meet frequently, began constructing a fleet of ships; I.K.S. Gon'Shar, I.K.S. Khaless, I.K.S. Beowulf in honor of the medieval king and warrior they learned much about and respected and lastly the I.K.S. Wyatt Earp, in honor of Doc's old friend.
Martok's last hope? To fit in somewhere in this crazy new galaxy!