—- USS Luna, First Officer’s Office —-

“… and the Romulans have granted us access to their subspace relay network, so instantaneous communication with Starfleet can continue despite our distance,” Chief Operations Officer Tashai concluded her report setting the PADD down on Klar’s desk. 

The Klingon did not examine it, and instead turned his attention to something else, “I suppose your Intelligence people told you about the risks of utilizing Romulan satellite arrays.”

The El-Aurian woman nodded, “This isn’t new to the Federation or Starfleet. No secret communications are being sent through and it’s mostly being utilized for personal and logistics traffic. The last thing I’d accuse humans of was of being too open, they can be just as secretive as Romulans. We have two former adversaries aboard, progress is slow but it does occur. Trust me, I remember when the Khitomer Accords were first signed. The idea of a KDF officer serving aboard a Starfleet ship was a stretch back then.”

”Now one is the First Officer, yes yes,” Klar waved his hand to dismiss the words. Like some Trills El-Aurians, though rare, seemed impossibly old. Anyone with honor would have died in combat by now if they were Klingon. 

The trust was he disliked this part of the job, the logistical work. Starfleet vessels seemed to feature less fights and murders than Klingon ones, and more paper work. It was his job to meet with all the section chiefs and get their reports, then summarize them for the Captain. The only one he had enjoyed so far was Lieutenant Scchhttt’aaakkk‘s because the dolphin at least had a sense of humor. 

“Unless there is anything else, dismissed,” Klar waved, annoyed by the whole thing, but wanting to avoid being thought of than less than worthy of his posting. He was not allowed to kill the captain and seize the ship, and even if he did he doubted that Starfleet would follow him the way a Klingon vessel would, so he had to do this menial labor.

Once the El-Adrian woman was gone he rose from his chair, cancelled his next two meetings and left his office heading to the nearest holodeck.

—- USS Luna, Holodeck 3 —-

There was, thankfully, no one in the holodeck when he arrived. Federation ships spent their time looking at plants and the effect of suns going into their supernova phase. It made them great scientists, but it was not what he had signed up to do, and not why he’d joined the Klingon Defense Force. The USS Luna was on its way to do some sort of diplomatic foolishness and play nice with the Romulans. It made him antsy and bored. He wanted to be fighting and breaking up pirate rings. That the Federation and Starfleet spent so much time and effort on this was maddening. No matter what this one starship did or said, no matter how many hands the captain shook or asses she kissed the Romulans would still do what the Romulans wanted and what benefited them. It was the reality of the world even if humans pretended otherwise.

Feeling pent up on the Starfleet vessel that he could not leave, Klar pulled up the Qo’noS the Klingon home world. Or at least the aired deserts of it where civilization had retreated from as it was as unforgiving and stern as a Klingon grandmother. He had not been born on the home world, and other than twice while on assignment had never been yet it was his home. It must have hurt the Romulans to have lost their home world, not that he cared much about the feelings of the enemy.

At Klar’s request the computer created a Bat’leth which he wielded and then an opponent which he struck down as expected. He was well on his way to defeating his fifth opponent when the door opened and in walked Lieutenant Sesi Oari the head of the Hazard Team which was meant to provide tactical backup when required. The Bajoran woman looked around and said, “Well this isn’t a Bajoran shrine during the Gratitude Festival.”

The Bajoran woman set down her bag and stepped from the Luna further onto the simulated dessert of Qo’noS. She nodded at Klar then checked with the computer who was meant to be using the holodeck.

”The holodeck has been reserved by Lieutenant Sesi Oari from eleven hundred hours until thirteen hundred hours,” the computer emotionlessly informed them.

Klar grunted, “I will leave.”

He made his way to the archway that had appeared when Oari had entered. As he passed the smaller Bajoran she put her hand on his chest to stop him.

”I can pray anytime, I can’t always train with a great Klingon warrior,” she said.

Klar snorted, he was skeptical. He was not unaware of the conversations that had been going around the Hazard team about his joining the last away mission and how he had been reckless. Starfleet drilled carefulness and the preservation of life (both theirs and even their opponents) into their officers while he preferred to charge in and upset the situation rather than learn a bunch of hand signs and slowly and methodically disable the enemy’s defenses. 

As if reading his mind, which he was pretty sure Bajorans could not do, Oari smiled, “I said what I meant, you are a great warrior. Maybe not the most subtle one, but then sometimes subtle is not what the situation calls for.”

”You do not think me a fool for rushing in to glorious combat?” Klar asked.

”No, I think that sometimes maybe a different approach is needed but a good enough warrior can make it work,” she said, stepping close to him then spinning in a near three hundred and sixty degree circle to attempt to land a blow at his neck. Klar easily reached up and grabbed her arm halting its momentum he held it still for a moment to show his superior strength then released pushing her back.

”That was not a killing blow,” Klar said, “A warrior should only fight what it intends to kill.”

”That’s not true and you know it,” Oari said, “Warriors train all the time, and don’t intend to kill their sparring partners.”

”Are you saying you wish to train?” Klar said.

”I think I started off saying that,” the smaller woman pointed out.

”Computer create a second Bat’leth,” Klar said, tossing one of the weapons to the security officer.