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Day 05 [ 0945 hrs.] Furry Fists of Diplomacy

[ Lieutenant Enyd Madsen | Mo’Kai Encampment | Central Mountain Range | Qo’Nos] attn: @Nesota Kynnovan

Quick, simple, direct…it seemed these descriptions would never describe the missions Enyd would be a part of whilst posted to Theurgy. Ever since she’d stepped foot aboard the ship, some form of violence or mayhem or another had found her, and while some might call it trial or baptism by fire, Enyd would call it just her luck. She’d always been a magnet for chaos of some degree, in all its various innocuous or terrifying forms. Her grandmother had often spoken of it growing up, referring to Enyd's “nine lives” nearly being spent after coming home bruised or battered from yet another mishap on the ranch. During her school years, from elementary to post-graduate, she’d also had a penchant for finding herself in awkward or fairly dire situations, leading to real-world experience in getting out of tight places either by word or deed. And especially after joining Starfleet and going through officer’s training on all the different worlds and bases, more than a dozen times she’d been faced with life or death scenarios, for most of which there’d been no preparing. So it did not surprise Enyd, their present circumstances, of herself trussed up like a runaway steer lying next to an equally bound Caitian in the back of the Mo’Kai encampment Rutherford had ordered them to find.

Though Rutherford had wanted the mission to take place days earlier, they hadn’t been able to wrangle a meeting with Pa’Qis until later in the week. It was worth the wait as Pa’Qis had come through for them more than they'd hoped. To say it surprised the Klingon engineer to find Enyd alive, and the tik’leth bloodied from Enyd’s fight in the Great Hall against Gorka, would be an understatement. She’d snorted blood wine through her nose and nearly broke the table in half from beating on it with her fist in amusement when Enyd told the tale, with a few embellishments as per Klingon decorum. It had taken them a few more rounds of blood wine and fresh, squirming gafgeg to convince Pa’Qis they were in earnest in their mission to establish diplomatic ties with the rebels. Pa’Qis felt no loyalty to Mo’Kai though she’d married into it, and when Enyd spoke of the chance of violence against Martok, so soon after the machinations of the Infested had been exposed, the Klingon woman had given them the name of a distant cousin in the encampment along with coordinates that would lead them close enough to the rebels to be easily found. That part had been the only quick, simple, and fairly direct part of their mission.

Even for Klingons, the expediency with which the diplomats found themselves restrained had been surprising. And the rebels had yet to express the reason behind the unprovoked attack or the demands they were likely to make of Theurgy or Martok in exchange for their freedom. Thus, for the last hour, Enyd had laid awkwardly on her side, hands tied between her ankles, with L’Nari even more bound close beside her. She had no weapons, at least no conventional ones, and the knots were solid. The only way she was going to get loose would be by Mo’Kai hand or a useful claw from L’Nari, if the Caitain felt so inclined. Of course, she could always use Zark's gift, but the situation wasn't dire enough for that. At least not yet.

It was laughable since it was too much to cry over, the fact that for the second time in one week Enyd was being held hostage. Though, all things considered, she much preferred this situation to the one just the day before. Closing her eyes, Enyd grimaced as her nose filled with the imagined scent of the explosion and in her ears the growled Romulan curses of her Tal Shiar captors. If she let herself, Enyd knew she would fall into the old dark pit of anxiety she'd nearly forgotten about, so thoroughly had she thought she'd purged herself of it back on Vulcan in the Forge. Blinking her eyes back open, Enyd took slow, steadying breaths. She needed to keep her wits about her. Needed to stay on her toes, so to speak, if she hoped to accomplish this mission with all her appendages still in place, and with the young diplomatic attache healthy, and likely unhappy at her side.

Scooting back and forth on the packed earth of their temporary cell floor, Enyd tossed her twig-riddled hair over her shoulder to peer at the diplomatic attache. Inwardly, Enyd chuckled. Though violence had found them on its own, at least the Caitain couldn’t blame Enyd for it. At least, maybe she couldn’t. The young Cait seemed so intent upon hating Enyd despite circumstances that at this point, Enyd wouldn’t be surprised if the woman blamed Enyd for the end of the universe at the hands of the Infested.

“How are you faring, Ensign?” Enyd’s voice was still gravely from the powerful punch to the gut one of the Mo’Kai rebels had greeted her with and though the movement brought her a twinge of pain from the bloodied crack in her lips, Enyd gave L’Nari what she hoped would be a reassuring smile. “Not exactly the warmest of welcomes, but it could always be worse.” She kept to herself the reality that within the past 24 hours she'd lived that worse.

Re: Day 05 [ 0945 hrs.] Furry Fists of Diplomacy

Reply #1 –
[Ensign L’Nari | Mo’Kai Encampment | Central Mountain Range | Qo’noS]
Attn: @Ellen Fitz

To say that L’Nari was a little upset would have probably been somewhat of an understatement. For the past hour the black-furred Diplomatic Attaché had found herself on a dirt floor, choosing the most comfortable position given the circumstances and laying on her stomach, with her hands tightly secured behind her back and firmly bound to her ankles; their Klingon captors had even tied up her tail in between her wrists just to make sure that they wouldn’t be able to break free.

And all because she was sent on a mission with Lieutenant Madsen. It had all started when they beamed in near the Mo’Kai encampment. While the directions given to them by Pa’Qis had taken them close enough to their destination, they still found themselves unsure of how to proceed and decided to start scanning for anything that might point them in the right direction. L’Nari had barely opened her tricorder when the problem solved itself through the sudden appearance of four Klingon Warriors. While the Caitian Ensign had raised her hands and exclaimed that they were Diplomats, or at least made an attempt to, it hadn’t prevented the Klingons from jumping them almost immediately; what upset L’Nari the most was that the leader of those Klingons kept watching with a disruptor in hand, while two Klingons jumped her and only one went for Lieutenant Madsen.

At the very least they were brought to the encampment, albeit bound and gagged.

Upon arrival at the camp they were brought to a rather hulking Klingon who had towered over them both and presented them with a rather unsettling grin that missed three teeth. While L’Nari initially fostered the hope that their earlier treatment at the hands of the welcoming committee had been nothing more than typical Klingon bravado and that they would soon be unbound at the order of the large Klingon, he had instead reached a different conclusion. In a way of thinking that only Klingons really seemed to be capable of, by adding the known facts and filling in the blanks with as much violence as possible, the Klingon reached the conclusion that they were responsible for Gorka’s demise. Even though he technically wasn’t wrong, especially when he barked that Lieutenant Madsen had killed Gorka, L’Nari also suddenly found herself being blamed as the Caitian who beat the gagh out of Kopek.

Before L’Nari could even protest and point out that it had actually been a different Caitian, they had been on them. And in an infuriating irony the majority of the Klingons, just like their welcoming committee earlier, assumed that she was the bigger threat and came at her; in theory they were right because, being a Caitian, L’Nari was naturally stronger than Lieutenant Madsen, but the enraging fact remained that the smaller brunette was nevertheless much more dangerous.

Now here they were; bound and thrown in a small shed. For the better part of the hour L’Nari had ignored the brunette Assistant Chief Diplomatic Officer next to her by turning her head in the opposite direction, and it had given her plenty of time to think. While the slender Lieutenant technically wasn’t at fault for their treatment at the hands of the welcoming committee, she very much was to blame for their current predicament. They were, as Diplomats, considered to be non-combatants for a reason and Lieutenant Madsen had pretty much voided their immunity by joining in that brawl against Gorka. Just to bloody her sword. The woman should have respected the sacrosanctity of their status and, had she done so, they probably wouldn’t even be in this situation in the first place.

When L’Nari heard that the Lieutenant addressed her, she initially considered to remain silent and ignore the woman. However, they were still Starfleet Officers and the black-furred Ensign knew that she had to stand above such pettiness; further antagonizing the brunette wouldn’t help their current predicament either. With a sigh, L’Nari turned her head around and looked at the Assistant Chief Diplomatic Officer as well as she could with one eye having been beaten shut. ”I’m having the time of my life here, Lieutenant. Thank you.” As she spoke however, the Caitian nevertheless found it hard to completely filter the contempt and bitterness out of her voice.

Upon hearing that Lieutenant Madsen tried to highlight the silver lining of their situation by stating that their predicament could have been worse, which was an optimistic thing to do and which L’Nari would have genuinely respected if it had come from any other person, the black-furred Caitian now opened her mouth to violently protest. Due to a combination of both thirst and her earlier beating, which had left her spitting out blood for the better part of the past hour, the Diplomatic Attaché was interrupted by a violent coughing fit though; maybe the only good thing about the situation was that she accidently ended up coughing her blood directly into the face of Lieutenant Madsen. Following that coughing fit, L’Nari took a couple of deep breaths and closed her one good eye to regain herself before speaking up once more. ”Lieutenant? Why is it that everything you do somehow ends up in violence?” Contrary to her earlier tone of voice, the contempt was gone; instead replaced by a sadness which was further accentuated by the look on L’Nari’s face. The bitterness was definitely still there though. ”Can you even use the shower in the morning without getting in at least one fist fight, or do you consider it a wasted day if that doesn’t happen?”

Re: Day 05 [ 0945 hrs.] Furry Fists of Diplomacy

Reply #2 –
[ Lt. Enyd Madsen | Mo’Kai Encampment | Central Mountain Range | Qo’Nos] attn: @Nesota Kynnovan

Thankful for quick reflexes, Enyd sucked her lips between her teeth and closed her eyes just as a warm shower of blood sprayed her face. She kept her eyes closed for a few moments longer, needing the time to count to ten before she re-engaged the diplomatic attache. In truth, Enyd had expected the Caitian to completely ignore her despite her ranking. The young Cait was convinced that if she got so much as a hangnail, Enyd would place a target on her furry back and skip her merry way on to finishing the mission. Enyd inwardly sighed. She didn’t know the personal history of the Caitian, only what was on file, and they’d never been given the opportunity to get to know one another as colleagues before being thrust into a life or death situation. Under better circumstances, they might’ve been able to establish the differences of opinion on handling sticky situations and come out the other side, perhaps still disagreeing, but without the lack of trust or the absolute contempt L’Nari held for Enyd.

L’Nari’s follow-up questions, spoken so that Enyd knew her answers would never satisfy the Caitian, were further evidence of the vast difference in experience and perhaps age between them. Would she have been so very different from L’Nari now if the events on Cardassia had never happened? Enyd twisted her head when she heard footsteps approaching, already knowing the answer to her own hypothetical question. Even before Cardassia, Enyd had been far too pragmatic to believe that violence was never an option. Some cultures only responded to a show of force, and Klingon culture was one such culture.

The door to their temporary cell opened and one of the Mo’Kai rebels moved into view. Missing an eye, he studied Enyd and L’Nari a quiet moment with his remaining one before spitting on the ground near Enyd’s head, “Dejpu'bogh Hov rur qablIj!”

Booming laughter alerted them to another rebel as he slid into view, moving past Enyd to L’Nari. He was joined by another rebel, as they were still assuming L’Nari was the superior fighter and, therefore, the superior threat. Enyd would allow that assumption a while longer. It might be the element of surprise they needed to get out of this mess if hoped-for diplomatic actions didn’t get the results they needed.

“verengan Ha'DIbaH!” One of the two rebels next to L’Nari growled before picking her up between them and carrying her from the cell.

Enyd was saved protest efforts when the Klingon cyclops easily picked her up on his own and carried her like a sack of potatoes after the other two. They didn’t travel far, just from their shed-like cell to a larger shack, where they were unceremoniously dropped in front of the rebel leader. Enyd’s body protested quite loudly at the mishandling with its pops and creaks, but she kept her mouth tightly sealed. She knew Klingons well enough to know a show of pain or weakness would spell their doom. Lifting her head, she peered around the shack as best she could from her position on the dusty floor. A few tables and chairs were scattered about the room, signaling its use as a type of mess hall for the rebels, along with some mechanical equipment in the far corner she couldn’t quite make out.

Turning her head in the other direction, Enyd made eye contact with the rebel leader. Even by Enyd’s tastes, there were handsome qualities to be laid at his feet, from his obviously muscular prowess to his defined facial features. His hair was braided back in a style she’d not seen often, and his beard featured a unique pattern of beads. Further studying his clothing and nonverbal cues as he stood from his chair and stalked closer, Enyd determined that he was someone who could be reasoned with if the angle of reasoning was to his liking.

“My men would have me hold you hostage, demanding that Martok renounce his claim and return to Gre'Thor where he came from, taking with him this Starfleet upstart who dares to lay claim to our House.” The leader knelt by Enyd’s head, a roughened hand reaching out to trace his fingers over her hair as he spoke. “I doubt either of you petaQ are worth enough even with your own people to achieve either of those victories.” His almost tender touches turned menacing as his fingers buried into her tresses to jerk her head up closer to his own, her body straining against the bonds from the odd angle he held her. “Give me reason why I shouldn’t just end you both now, instead of wasting time and resources on keeping you alive.”

Enyd licked her dry lips and forced a swallow. Whether L'Nari agreed or not, only straightforward "cowboy-esque" maneuvering would work with these Klingons.

“Do you enjoy leading your men in the shadows? Is there honor to be found out here, hiding from the changes taking place in the city and within your own House? Changes you cannot stop.”

Though he suddenly dropped her head to the ground with a growled insult she didn’t understand, Enyd knew he was still listening as she spit out the dirt the fall had lodged in her mouth and continued.

“We have come to negotiate a peace between you and the rest of your House. Though it is true, a member of Starfleet is now the acknowledged head of your House, we hold nothing to gain in this aside from the furthering of peace amongst your people. Surely you know that we both face a greater enemy. The parasite that destroyed Kopek was not acting alone. There are more out there, and they do not want any of us to survive. They take pleasure in watching us fight amongst ourselves, encouraging petulant acts of dishonor by manipulating us with lies.”

The rebel pivoted on his toes to glare at her, “You call me petulant?” He was back on her again, this time hauling her entire body off the ground, so she was eye-level. The drop from this height was going to hurt like hell. ‘You dare say I am without honor?”

Enyd maintained her resolute expression as she replied, “I dare say any who fears change and flees from it instead of meeting it head on is a coward. Petulant or otherwise.” She tipped her head down, trying to get closer though she had no control of where he threw her body next if he chose to. “Why not reclaim your honor and your men’s honor? Come with us back to the city, pledge yourselves to the new leader of your House, and join us in the fight against the true enemy of the empire.”

Surprisingly, he did not throw her. Instead, the leader lowered her back to the ground as he spoke to his second in command in his native tongue. Enyd glanced at L’Nari. She knew the Caitian was skilled in languages and curious if the woman was catching what they were saying amongst them. They spoke a few moments longer before their captors came forward and first picked up L’Nari to drag her from the shack, then seized Enyd.

“You will both prove your worth in battle. If you win, we will consider your words. If you lose, well, you won’t care much anymore, as you’ll be dead.”

Enyd couldn’t stop the smirk of morbid amusement. With Klingons, as with so many others in this universe, violence was never not an option.

*Translation: Your face looks like a collapsed star!, ferengian animal, dishonored afterlife.

Re: Day 05 [ 0945 hrs.] Furry Fists of Diplomacy

Reply #3 –
[Ensign L’Nari | Mo’Kai Encampment | Central Mountain Range | Qo’noS]
Attn: @Ellen Fitz

When the door to their cell opened and their captors appeared, L’Nari briefly closed her one good eye and tried to make her peace with… well, at that point she was willing to make her peace with just about anything just to be on the safe side. The black-furred Caitian was scared; this kind of treatment was completely unheard of in the Starfleet Diplomatic Corps, at least in L’Nari’s experience thus far, and when she was hoisted back up to her feet in between two strong Klingons and dragged from her cell she knew that this was the end.

They dragged her to a larger shack, where L’Nari was forced onto her knees in front of a Klingon she hadn’t seen before thus far. The respect which he demanded from the other Klingons, along with his finely decorated braid and beaded beard, left little doubt in the Diplomatic Attache’s mind that he was the leader of the Mo’Kai rebels. To her left, Lieutenant Madsen was quite roughly dropped on the dirt floor and, if the situation had been any different, the black-furred Caitian would have grinned at the Assistant Chief Diplomatic Officer’s misfortune; since the rebels still assumed that L’Nari was the superior warrior between the two of them, they at least granted her the dubious honour of dying on her knees instead of laying in the dirt.

As she watched, the leader of the Mo’Kai rebels knelt down right next to Enyd’s head and spoke up. For a very brief moment the Caitian Ensign actually felt a glimmer of hope upon hearing the Klingon’s words; the majority of the rebels wanted to hold them hostage, and he actually allowed them to explain why it was in their best interests not to kill them. It was a small victory, but one they could actually fight with words and diplomacy. Given the circumstances, that was about the best deal they could get and L’Nari was more than willing to take it.

Of course, it was not to be. That small glimmer of hope disappeared even faster than it initially presented itself when the Assistant Chief Diplomatic Officer opened her mouth and completely destroyed their only chance to present their case in a dignified manner. While the slender brunette continued to speak, the black-furred Caitian looked at the woman with an astonished look on her face; a wildly bewildered look that, as L’Nari struggled to regain herself, rapidly made room for anger. It was as if Lieutenant Madsen was intent on dying here at the Mo’Kai encampment and, even though some of what the other woman said actually hinted at a diplomatic education that managed to hold the Klingon’s attention, most of it was spoken in such a highly offensive way that it only seemed to further anger the Rebel Leader. If it hadn’t been for the restraints that kept her so tightly bound, L’Nari would have likely taken her chances with throwing herself at Lieutenant Madsen and strangling the woman right there and then with her own hands just to shut her up and to prevent the Human from blundering them into an early grave.

Just like she predicted, the Rebel Leader took offense and hauled Lieutenant Madsen off the ground like she was a sack of potatoes. Knowing that people had been killed for far less and, restrained as she was, powerless to do anything about it, L’Nari closed her one good eye and turned her face away from the Assistant Chief Diplomatic Officer in defeat; almost as if it could distance her from the brunette in some way. This was clearly going to be the end and, as the exchange between Lieutenant Madsen and the Klingon continued, the black-furred Caitian stopped paying attention and instead resumed to mentally prepare herself for the inevitable.

That inevitable moment came within seconds, when L’Nari felt how two Klingons grabbed her once more. As they began to drag her from the shack, the Diplomatic Attaché opened her eye once more; just in time to see that a third Klingon grabbed Lieutenant Madsen and hauled her along as well. To say that L’Nari was scared would be an understatement, but aside from fear she also felt a deep hatred towards the woman who had single-handedly sealed their fates. Before she could turn her attention towards the Assistant Chief Diplomatic Officer and, lacking any better options, glare at the woman in the faint hope that looks were able to kill and the woman would spontaneously combust, the Rebel Leader spoke up once more.

“You will both prove your worth in battle. If you win, we will consider your words. If you lose, well, you won’t care much anymore, as you’ll be dead.”

The Klingons dragged them towards what L’Nari could only assume was the centre of the encampment. There they were once again unceremoniously dropped onto the dirt and, as one of the Klingons moved out of view, the other pulled out a knife and quickly cut the restraints that bound the Diplomatic Attaché’s hands to her tail and ankles. As she rubbed her sore wrists and somewhat unsteadily began to regain her footing, L’Nari quickly looked around at her surroundings; they were indeed in a clearing, something that would serve as a makeshift arena where they would fight for their freedom.

One of their captors, the hulking Klingon who had welcomed them to the camp earlier, was already standing at one end of the ‘arena’ with a large Bat’leth and a bloodthirsty grin. There was something about that grin that made L’Nari’s blood run cold, quite possibly the three missing teeth, and a part of her only realized too well that her own teeth would most likely be used to replace those missing teeth real quick. The Caitian Diplomatic Attaché quickly turned around to look for Lieutenant Madsen with a hint of panic in her eye and, as she found the Assistant Chief Diplomatic Officer also rising to her feet behind her, the Rebel Leader approached them. With a look that could only be interpreted as downright sadistic, he pushed a Bat’leth into her hands before giving one to Lieutenant Madsen as well; speaking up as he did so.

“Death is an experience best shared.”

With those words the Rebel Leader began to walk backwards. At the same time the hulking Klingon began to circle around them, clearly looking for an opening while slowly turning his large Bat’leth around in his hands; much to her utter horror, L’Nari noticed how two more Klingons joined in circling them and, as she took a frightened step back, she could feel how her own back bumped into Lieutenant Madsen’s. Here they were, standing back to back in a fight against three Klingons who now circled them like vultures.

”You idiot.” As she shifted her attention between the Klingons as they circled in front of her, L’Nari spoke up in a hushed tone full of both open hatred and utter horror. ”You unhinged lunatic. You killed us.” There was absolutely no way they were going to win this, at least none that L’Nari could see. Even if they hadn’t been wounded, neither of them could have held their ground in a fair fight against a Klingon; they were Diplomats, not Security Officers. Yet here they were, already roughed up following their capture and now facing off against three Klingons. ”I swear, if you leave me behind…”

L’Nari couldn’t even finish, as one of the Klingons that had been circling them suddenly lunged at her. The Caitian Ensign caught his Bat’leth with her own, parrying the blow and, as their locked Bat’leths produced a shower of sparks that washed over both herself and Lieutenant Madsen, L’Nari could feel how the muscles in her right arm strained from the exertion. With all the strength she could muster, L’Nari pushed the Klingon away; whether she actually forced him back or if he stepped back on his own was unknown, but the Diplomatic Attaché didn’t had time to really think about it as the hulking Klingon now lunged at her from the left. As their blades met and the muscles in L’Nari’s left arm and hand screamed out in protest, she could feel that his strength was far superior to her own and that she wouldn’t be able to fully block the blow. She was pushed back but, surprisingly, as her left shoulder blade bumped into Lieutenant Madsen’s right shoulder blade, the slender brunette gave way and allowed them to spin around their axis without their backs ever separating; it was such a fluid move that the black-furred Caitian could deflect the blow in another shower of sparks.

Re: Day 05 [ 0945 hrs.] Furry Fists of Diplomacy

Reply #4 –
[ Lt. Enyd Isolde Madsen | Mo’Kai Encampment | Battle Arena | Central Mountain Range | Qo’Nos] attn: @Nesota Kynnovan

There was no time to admire the beauty of the wooded glade, now turned into the very arena where their mettle was to be tested. Having grown up on the edge of the wilds, Enyd appreciated this new beauty found on Qo’Nos, even if the rebels intended it to be the last beauty she beheld.

“They were going to kill us, Ensign,” Enyd spoke to L’Nari as their captors loosened and cut their bonds. She could guess, based on the Caitian’s mannerisms, that it wouldn’t matter if the High Chancellor himself came and told L’Nari the same truth; the woman seemed convinced that they could’ve talked their way out of this predicament. “Klingon culture requires a certain…assertiveness.”

Her hands now free, the Mo’Kai rebel closest dropped a matching bat’leth into her hands with a sneer as the rebel leader spoke to them both, “Death is an experience best shared.”

The cheers of the rest of the Mo’Kai rebels went up then, soon moving from intermittent cheers to an almost hypnotic chant as they gathered on the edge of the makeshift arena to watch what they assumed to be a bloodbath. The rebel leader wasn’t wrong in that regard, as far as Enyd was concerned. She certainly didn’t want to die alone, though she certainly didn’t intend to die here either. If Enyd had to choose who she’d like to die with and how, fighting next to Ensign L’Nari in a rebel camp on Qo’Nos would not be her first pick for either, and she knew without having to ask that the feeling was mutual. Not that she felt personal ire towards the Caitian, far from it in fact, only that Enyd had zero intention of dying on this mission. Or in letting them kill L’nari. Even in her death, Enyd could imagine the Caitian cursing her for all universal wrongs and Enyd was uninterested in dealing with that sort of drama just now.

She felt more than saw L’Nari shift closer until the Caitian’s back was up against her own. In truth, Enyd saw the foolishness of attempting to fight three larger, stronger Klingons while standing back-to-back with the much taller Caitian. She didn’t even have to duck, and L’Nari’s back would be terribly exposed to attack. Not commenting on L’Nari’s whispered curses against Enyd’s methods, Enyd kept her eyes on the two Klingons who’d decided to circle to her “side” of the fight while the largest of the three maintained his lock on L’Nari. The air crackled with tension, and Enyd knew the fight would begin within seconds.

Without knowing what sort of training L’Nari had been exposed to, Enyd threw what advice she could offer over her shoulder, “Stay mobile. Don’t try to take them head-on. Wear them out and make them work for it.”

The bulkier of the two facing Enyd was armed with a bladed spear-like weapon. Enyd remembered her friend Rem Kile had called it a chon’naQ, while the lither warrior at his side carried both an ‘oy’naQ, or pain stick, and a jejtaj, a one-handed crescent-shaped blade. Hulkier Klingon, Enyd decided, she would call Joe, and the lither almost handsome-one if it weren’t for his murderous sneers, she would call Bob. Enyd hoisted the bat’leth in her hands, frowning. One of the first things she needed to do was make a weapon’s exchange with Joe. Her size and weight matched better with the chon’naQ than the bat’leth clutched in hand, and based on their amused expressions, it seemed both Joe and Bob knew this nugget well enough to gloat at their assumed victory.

Now dubbed Sam by Enyd’s racing mind, the bat'leth wielding Klingon missing a few teeth struck first, his blade making a solid connection with L’Nari’s. Enyd’s skin stung from the responding sparks that landed on any exposed flesh. Bob made to strike next while Joe seemed intent on hanging back, readying himself to take out whatever was left over from Sam and Bob’s attack. When L’Nari’s deflection of the second attack might give way, Enyd adjusted her stance, allowing L’Nari more movement but without letting the woman fall to the ground in a heap.

Enyd shot L’Nari what she hoped was a reassuring look, calling out as she moved further away from the Caitian, “We have to give them more than one target to attack.”

And it was true. They were more likely to have a quick fight, ending their own deaths, if they stuck too close together. Neither one could be remotely labeled as a formidable warrior, not in any dictionary on any planet. While Enyd believed herself a capable fighter with the right weapon when necessary, contextually speaking, she doubted L’Nari’s fighting grit to stick to the fight for long. The diplomatic attache had made it abundantly clear that she was a pacifist through and through, and from such a perspective, Enyd could see how their present circumstances were looking dreary indeed. But the fight wasn’t over yet, and her movement away from L’Nari drew the attention of Joe. Perfect. Just the man she wanted.

Though she kept her eyes on Joe’s lumbering approach, Enyd also used her peripherals to take in anything on the edge of the arena that she could use for diversion or tactic to get the drop on him. There really wasn’t much of anything aside from a few crates here, a tree there, plushy squishy cheering Klingons over there. Joe thrust a few jabs at Enyd, laughing when she danced and jumped in response. Enyd knew she was faster than Joe, more nimble, and she would have to use that to stay out of reach. Do as she’d told L’Nari to do, make him work for it.

When Enyd again danced out of reach without moving to strike back, a series of booing growls came from the rebels watching, and a slew of curses came bubbling out of Joe’s mouth, a spray of thick spittle coming right along with them. Enyd continued her sideways dance until she found her chosen spot for a game change.

“Do you kiss your momma with that mouth?” Enyd waggled her eyebrows at the Klingon, forcing a show of bravado she certainly didn’t feel.

Thankfully, Joe reacted much as she’d hoped, and as he thrust the chon’naQ at her belly, Enyd executed a pirouetting epaulement combo that would have left her old ballet instructor in fits of joy on the arena floor had the old hag seen Enyd in action. The swift twisting pivot on her toes allowed Joe’s chon’naQ to propel into the side of the crate Enyd had taken a position in front of and combined with the sudden upward thrust of her shoulder against his exposed side, it was enough to dislodge Joe from his already off-kilter stance. Instead of moving to take a swing at his head with the bat’leth, Enyd threw it at him, again getting the reaction she’d hoped for: Joe let go of the temporarily stuck chon’naQ in favor of catching the bat’leth.

Turning her back on the seething Joe long enough to kick at the blade embedded in the crate, Enyd let out a squeal of alarm and collapsed fully to the ground when the bat’leth blade sliced at the air her head had just occupied seconds before when she bent to grab the newly freed staff. Gripping the staff tightly, Enyd continued a shameless rolling retreat away from the crates and laughing Joe until she felt safe enough to find her feet again to stand. With a toss of her disheveled hair over her shoulder, Enyd took in L’Nari’s situation before returning her attention back to the renewed attacks from her favorite Klingon, Joe. At least they both weren’t dead. Yet.

Re: Day 05 [ 0945 hrs.] Furry Fists of Diplomacy

Reply #5 –
[Ensign L’Nari | Mo’Kai Encampment | Central Mountain Range | Qo’noS]
Attn: @Ellen Fitz

It was a chilling realization that made the fur on the back of her neck rise up and her blood run cold, even though L’Nari knew very deep down that it shouldn’t really have come as a surprise. Lieutenant Madsen abandoned her. Instead of covering her back so they couldn’t be attacked from behind, the Assistant Chief Diplomatic Officer broke off and abandoned her within mere seconds after she was forced to place her trust in the Human. The slender brunette did shout advice about staying mobile and not taking any of the Klingons head-on while she was making a run for it, but it was the kind of advice that was much easier said than done. After all, ever since their arrival at the Mo’Kai Encampment the Klingon Rebels had deemed her to be the superior fighter and in this particular case it wasn’t any different; a quick glance was enough to tell the black-furred Caitian that Enyd had successfully drawn off the Klingon with the chon’naQ, but that still left her to fight off the hulking three-teeth with his Bat’leth and the slender Rebel wielding an ‘oy’naQ and a Jejtaj.

There was little to no doubt in L’Nari’s mind that they were going to die, and the only solace she could find was the knowledge that she would at least claw Enyd Madsen along with her in death. Just the thought of that woman, the brown-haired Lieutenant whom she had unsuccessfully tried to warn Lieutenant Commander Rutherford about just two days earlier, was enough to slowly replace the black-furred Caitian’s fear with a seething anger; it was all because of that unhinged psychopath and her thirst for violence that she was now forced into a life or death situation, and just one glance at the two Klingons opposing her was enough to take away any shred of optimism about her chances.

Her anger was almost immediately replaced with fear though, when three-teeth decided it was high time to come at her again; this time with a powerful downward slash. Raising her Bat’leth, L’Nari managed to block the hulking Klingon but the violent impact showered her with sparks once more. Instead of pulling back, three-teeth kept applying force onto his blade in an attempt to break through her defense, and L’Nari was too late in realizing that he intentionally left her completely open to attack. It was a mistake which the slender Klingon skillfully exploited, and the black-furred Caitian never saw him coming until it was too late and his ‘oy’naQ slammed into the inside of her right kneecap. The impact sent a painful jolt through L’Nari’s right leg and forced it to bend in on itself; effectively forcing the Caitian Diplomatic Attaché down onto one knee, further aided by the sheer force already exerted on the Bat’leth bearing over her head.

Before the slender Rebel could finish the job with his Jejtaj, which L’Nari could fortunately see coming towards her now, she pushed herself back with her left leg; just barely dodging three-teeth’s Bat’leth when she suddenly released her defence and it came crashing down toward her, which in turn forced the slender Klingon to also stay his own hand to prevent getting caught in the same downward slash. While effective, it was not a particularly graceful evasion and the landing even less so, as the black-furred Caitian landed painfully on her right shoulder amidst the roaring laughter of the crowd. She could see that even three-teeth and the slender Klingon were laughing, as if they had finally realized that they had seriously overestimated her and, as she pushed herself up to her feet while attempting to ignore the painful protest in her right leg, the crowd only laughed all the harder. In fact, she could see that three-teeth and slender looked at each other for a brief moment as if to decide who should end it, before the slender Klingon stepped back and his hulking colleague turned his attention towards her before ominously spinning his Bat’leth around with more skill than L’Nari could ever hope to possess.

As she was standing there, L’Nari could feel how her knees were shaking in a combination of both fear and pain, the latter especially in the case of her right knee, and tears began to well up in her green eyes while the hulking Klingon began to make his way towards her. For a split second her good eye came to rest upon the knife attached to three-teeth’s belt, its worn and discoloured leather grip leaving little doubt that he was no stranger to bloodshed, and at that moment the black-furred Caitian knew that this was it. Clenching her left hand around the grip of her Bat’leth, she prepared herself for the inevitable while her gaze returned to three-teeth’s face and the mocking grin that only seemed to further disfigure it.

And then it was there, that moment which L’Nari had feared so much.

Almost before she realized it, three-teeth lunged at her with his Bat’leth. The speed at which he moved confirmed to L’Nari that he’d only been testing her up until then, using powerful probing attacks to see what she was capable of until he discovered that she wasn’t the superior fighter he –and with him everyone else- had thought she’d been. Now, apparently utterly disappointed at what turned out to be a dishonourable task, he seemed in a hurry to get it over with as soon as possible.

The only answer L’Nari had to that was letting go of her Bat’leth. As the weapon fell to the ground, the black-furred Caitian mentally braced herself by taking a deep breath before throwing the handful of sand which she’d grabbed when she pushed herself back onto her feet earlier. She managed to hit three-teeth right in his face, blinding him and causing him to stagger in a combination of sheer surprise and pain. In fact, the hulking Klingon had been caught so utterly off-guard that he briefly let go of his Bat’leth with his left hand in an attempt to wipe the sand out of his eyes, but before he could properly do so L’Nari was onto him. Within mere seconds the laughter of the crowd completely died away as the black-furred Caitian yanked the Daqtagh out of three-teeth’s belt and plunged the brutal blade deep within the hulking Klingon’s chest. Not once, not twice, but repeatedly while blood began to squirt out of his wounds to cover the knife, the black fur of L’Nari’s hands, the front of her uniform, and the black fur of her face, where it mixed with the tears that were now streaming freely from her green eyes as she took a life for the first time ever. Within mere moments, the surprised expression that had initially replaced three-teeth’s mocking grin changed into one of pure shock; almost as if the hulking Klingon could hardly believe what was happening to him, and it wasn’t until L’Nari plunged the knife into his chest once more before he finally let go of his own Bat’leth.

The crowd wasn’t laughing anymore now. When three-teeth’s Bat’leth hit the dirt of the makeshift arena, L’Nari stopped stabbing him and slowly stepped away from the hulking Klingon as he collapsed next to his weapon. While the black-furred Caitian didn’t knew if she killed him and, quite honestly, didn’t even knew how she felt about that –at that point, the sheer adrenaline surging through her body left her feeling preciously little at all- the look of pure disbelief on the face of the slender Klingon made her fear for the worst. That look only lasted for a mere moment though, and it was soon replaced by an enraged grimace before the slender dual-wielding Klingon let out a roar and raised his weapons.

Things were now truly getting serious…

Re: Day 05 [ 0945 hrs.] Furry Fists of Diplomacy

Reply #6 –
[ Lt. Enyd Madsen | Mo’Kai Encampment | Battle Arena | Central Mountain Range | Qo’Nos] attn: @Nesota Kynnovan

There were voices in her head. But not the crazy kind. Not really. The nuggets of wisdom yelled at her from the sidelines during a match or the moments of insight gently spoken during a one-on-one match, all the feedback shared from her martial arts coaches coalesced in her brain. Enyd knew she had cardio, agility, and speed on her side while Joe had hulk, height, and years of training with his weapon. She needed to tire him out and hope she could outlast him.

Joe took a series of slices at her head, Enyd evading the attacks by angling out and circling around. She continued this deathly death on light feet, circling first this way, and then that, letting Joe attack without attempting to stand her ground and parry. No, he would expend more energy in swinging and missing than if he swung and she was stupid enough to pit her strength against his. His attack swing, her circling evade, his attack jab, her leap back and angle out, his attack slice, her frame off shoulder and circling evade. This violent waltz continued until Joe finally grew sloppy in his fatigue.

Joe overcommitted in an overhead cut down, his blade stabbing into the ground instead of Enyd’s head. Enyd angled out and pivoted around him, using the force of her movements to aid in the strike as she brought the flat end of the blade against the back of Joe’s head. Roaring, Joe surged upright, one hand holding the bat’leth, the other free to reach for his head. Enyd jumped, back and twisted her torso to bring a pair of quick jabs from the metal-covered butt end of the staff against Joe’s knees before he could fully recover.

It was then that Enyd heard the death roar of one of the other Klingon’s in their makeshift arena. Enyd quickly moved at an angle, eyes moving from the rapidly recovering Joe in time to see Bob rushing at L’Nari, both his arms raised high in fury. The Caitian seemed dazed, the sprawled and bloodied body of Sam just beside her. No doubt Joe would recover before Enyd if she did what she felt was necessary, and then there would be hell to pay. But though she knew it was stupid, Enyd didn’t stop to debate the physics of her choice, before she lowered the staff and charged.

Bob was so intent on attacking L’Nari he didn’t hear or see the assault from the pint-sized diplomat. So the Klingon was taken quite by surprise when he stopped his would-be attack on L’Nari and hunched sideways with a pain-filled yowl. Enyd’s blade embedded into his rib cage in the gap between his chest and back armor plating, the momentum of her charge pushing Bob a few steps sideways before he fell to one knee. He dropped his weapons and reached for the staff Enyd still gripped. Behind her, over the din of her pants and Bob’s angry howls, Enyd thought she heard the equally furious charge of Joe. She tried a few jerking movements, but it was to no avail. The blade was in too deep for her to dislodge and, or Bob knew that so long as he kept it in his body, she was vulnerable.

“Bastard.” Enyd crouched down and in a desperate roll, she grabbed for the closest discarded weapon.

By the time she was on her knees and facing the others, ‘oy’naQ, in hand, Joe was just about on top of L’Nari. With no concept on how to use the pain stick, Enyd used it as a projectile instead and pelted Joe in the side of the head before the Klingon could take a swing at L’Nari. Now she was without weapons, as Bob, with the blade still awkwardly in his side, had since grabbed his jejtaj and looked to be making an attempt to rejoin Joe in the fight. Wounded as he was, Enyd wasn’t too worried about evading Bob. But Joe, though tired, was unharmed and thoroughly aggravated.

Looking past the rage-filled expression on Joe’s face as he stalked closer, and pushing herself into a crouch in preparation of another bout of deathly dancing, Enyd studied L’Nari. The woman appeared mostly unhurt, aside from the earlier damage of their welcome. And it also seemed that L’Nari had killed, or grievously wounded, Sam. Good for her. Enyd gave the diplomatic attaché a curt nod before turning her attention to Joe and the half-standing Bob. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep up her side of the dance. But it had to be long enough to prove their merit to the rebel leader. Otherwise all this would have been in vain.

Re: Day 05 [ 0945 hrs.] Furry Fists of Diplomacy

Reply #7 –
[Ensign L’Nari | Mo’Kai Encampment | Central Mountain Range | Qo’noS]
Attn: @Ellen Fitz

Even though she was a pacifist at heart and, being a member of the Starfleet Diplomatic Corps, considered herself to be a strict non-combatant, L’Nari had nevertheless still been subject to the mandatory self-defence training back at Starfleet Academy. While she wasn’t exactly the best shot with a phaser, the young Caitian had managed to somehow pass the firing range at the very first try and even outperformed Cadet Eloi-Danvers through sheer stupid luck. The exact opposite had proven true for basic hand-to-hand combat however and, even though L’Nari was naturally stronger and far more nimble than many of her peers, she ended up failing several times; eventually passing just barely after taking additional lessons.

No one could have imagined, least of all L’Nari herself, that those additional lessons would come in handy just three years later during a fight to the death in a Rebel Encampment somewhere deep within the Central Mountain Range of Qo’noS. While she couldn’t even remember from the top of her head what she had for dinner the night before, the black-furred Caitian began to recall the words of her hand-to-hand instructor as she locked her green-eyed gaze with those of the slender dual-wielding Klingon.

”Look at your opponent’s eyes in a fight. They might try to feint, but if you know what to look for you’ll see that their eyes speak the truth of it.”

Or something like that. It was three years ago after all and this wasn’t exactly the time nor the place for reminiscing, but L’Nari could still vaguely remember that looking at your opponent’s eyes was somehow important. As the slender Klingon came charging at her however, all the black-furred Diplomatic Attaché could see was a whole lot of anger and pain coming straight at her.

And then it just… stopped. In a move that surprised not only herself, but that slender Klingon even more so, Lieutenant Madsen had come seemingly out of nowhere to plant her Chon’naQ directly in the gap between the Klingon’s chest- and back armor plating. Of all the things L’Nari had expected to happen, having Enyd Isolde Madsen come to her aid was quite honestly very far down the list; it actually surprised the Caitian Ensign so much that she dropped her fighting stance and proceeded to look at the scene in front of her in utter confusion. For a brief moment she actually thought they were safe, and it wasn’t until the Assistant Chief Diplomatic Officer let go of the staff, rolled for the Jejtaj which the slender Klingon had dropped mere moments ago and proceeded to pelt it at the head of the last remaining Klingon when L’Nari realized that they were still very much in grave danger. She could see that Lieutenant Madsen, who had now dropped into a crouching position and very briefly presented her with a curt nod, was unarmed and about to face the fury of that thoroughly enraged Klingon.

”Enyd!” As she called out, L’Nari tossed the bloodied Daqtagh towards the Assistant Chief Diplomatic Officer and for once, there was not a single trace of disdain or disapproval in her Caitian-accented voice whatsoever; in fact, the black-furred Caitian hadn’t even thought twice about it. Interpersonal relationships aside, they were a team right now.

At the same moment when the relatively uninjured Klingon -aside from that emerging bump on his ridged forehead- began to charge at Enyd with a furious roar, L’Nari also pushed off and rushed for the injured slender Klingon. The rebel was still unarmed and considerably slower because Lieutenant Madsen’s Chon’naQ was still lodged in his side, and he was actually paying more attention to the spear than to their fight; in fact, it wasn’t until L’Nari was almost on top of him when he finally looked up, and by then it was already too late. Her shoulder slammed into the Klingon’s chest with the full weight of 138lbs worth of Caitian, and the slender Rebel began to stumble before losing his footage and falling backwards. Almost immediately, L’Nari was right on top of him; slamming her knees onto the Klingon’s slender chest and struggling to take a hold of his arms in an attempt to restrain the Rebel until the madness would finally come to an end.

Re: Day 05 [ 0945 hrs.] Furry Fists of Diplomacy

Reply #8 –
[ Lt. Enyd Madsen | Mo’Kai Encampment | Battle Arena | Central Mountain Range | Qo’Nos] attn: @Nesota Kynnovan

The thrown Klingon dagger embedded itself in the dirt a little more than an arm’s length away from Enyd’s position. At the same time she was surprised L’Nari threw the potential defensive weapon in her direction, Enyd was amazed when the Caitian renewed combat with Bob, leaving Joe to Enyd. As he crept closer, Joe snarled something particularly unpleasant, his eyes sparkling with promised pain should he finally catch her. After so much taunting, aka her necessary evasive maneuvers to stay alive, Joe was likely looking forward to draining all the blood from her body and drinking it as he ate his roasted Caitian dinner.

Injured as she was, Enyd knew L’Nari could not take out Bob and then face down Joe on her own. If Enyd could at least injure Joe, as she had Bob, then if he was victorious in taking out Enyd, L’Nari would have a better chance of survival, and their mission would be a success. Enyd had no doubt that if they managed to best these three Mo’Kai warriors between the two of them, the rebel leader would have no choice but to follow through with his earlier statements and listen to reason. Potentially even side with the new House leader in the fight against the Infested. Rebel leader though he may be, the Klingon had spoken and acted as one who followed the old codes of honor, and THAT was one of the only reasons she’d antagonized him into arranging this spectacle. Of course, it would’ve been nicer to come to terms without so much gore, but desperate diplomats couldn’t be choosey.

She gave no hint of her intended action, offered no pithy comments, struck no pose. One moment Enyd was crouched, eyeing the space between herself and the dagger, gaging if it was feasible to get it before Joe sliced her head off, and the next, she wasn’t. Enyd tucked forward, grabbing fistfuls of dirt in her hands as she pushed into a roll. In the repeated arc of her roll, near where Joe assumed she’d reach for the dagger, Enyd threw the dirt into the air but kept her body tucked and moving. She heard Joe’s roar as he struck his blade down where she’d been crouched; her shoulder and ribs smarted from the places his armored boots kicked into her body as she rolled beneath his legs.

Discombobulated but still alive for the time being, Enyd pulled out of her roll immediately after she felt Joe’s legs stumble over her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Joe swiping at his face and shaking his head, his back partially toward her as he recovered. She wasted no further time. Surging to her feet, Enyd ran forward. She used his braced leg as a ladder to climb onto his back. As he growled out a slew of curses, twisting his body back and forth to dislodge her, Enyd quickly wrapped her arms around his neck into a carotid restraint.

It was an old trick her Tellarite classmate had taught her back in officer training and one that worked like magic against most species if administered correctly. For Joe, it seemed the magic was going to take longer to work if it was going to work at all, and for the time being, Enyd had just wrangled herself a ride on the back of a bucking Klingon. Good thing she was from Montana.

Re: Day 05 [ 0945 hrs.] Furry Fists of Diplomacy

Reply #9 –
[Ensign L’Nari | Mo’Kai Encampment | Central Mountain Range | Qo’noS]
Attn: @Ellen Fitz

The slender Klingon struggled to break free beneath her grasp but, already weakened by the Chon’naQ lodged in his side, he lacked the strength to do so. Regardless, he still put up a surprisingly hefty fight and it took everything L’Nari had just to keep him pinned to the ground beneath her. When Lieutenant Madsen resumed her own fight with the last remaining Klingon, or the other way around depending on the point of view, the black-furred Caitian briefly glanced in the direction of the Assistant Chief Diplomatic Officer; even though her own fight was under control, L’Nari knew it was important to stay aware of her surroundings just in case the Klingon would manage to best Enyd and it would once again become a two-to-one fight.

When her green eye fell upon the sight of Lieutenant Madsen as she evaded the sweeping blows of her attacker, L’Nari quite honestly didn’t knew whether she had to shake her head in frustration or be relieved. Where everyone else would have dreaded the experience of fighting to the death, it seemed like only their Assistant Chief Diplomatic Officer really enjoyed the experience. For a brief moment she considered what this mission would have looked like under the command of Lieutenant Junior Grade Foval but, knowing only too well how her previous mission under the Vulcan Assistant Chief Diplomatic Officer almost ended with their deaths as well, L’Nari couldn’t help but carefully admit that she liked her chances under Lieutenant Madsen a whole lot better; at the very least the Human knew what she was doing.

It was at that moment when L’Nari suddenly realized that Enyd had somehow managed to get onto her attacker’s back and was now riding him, almost merrily at that, and as the Klingon began to make several futile attempts to dislodge her, it was all the black-furred Caitian do not to shake her head in frustration. To think that, during her bereavement leave on Cait, she could have either disregarded Admiral Anderson’s message completely or even resigned her commission right there and then to take up a safe and comfortable position as a civil servant in the Cait Government… but no, of course she had to do the right thing and save the Galaxy.

This time L’Nari actually did shake her head, if only just in time to see the haft of the Chon’naQ coming directly at her face as the slender Klingon suddenly jerked hard beneath her. Too late, L’Nari realized that she’d been distracted and her attacker took advantage of that; lacking the time to properly react aside from turning her head, nor able to do anything else without completely letting go of the man beneath her, the metal haft of the Chon’naQ hit her hard against the side of her head. For a brief moment L’Nari relaxed her grip on the man’s wrists as she fought her instinctive reaction to bring her hands up to shield herself from further blows, and that was all the slender Klingon needed to turn the odds. Before she truly knew it, the slender Klingon was spinning them both around so he’d be on top. Even with her superior strength due to his injuries, L’Nari could feel how the weight of his armour now worked to the Klingon’s advantage instead, and she grit her teeth as she strained her muscles to regain control and stay on top. It was to no avail though and, within mere moments, her attacker was looking down at her with a grin that could only be considered downright disdainful. Maybe the only good thing was that, aside from keeping her pinned to the ground, there was little the slender Klingon could do until the other Klingon would manage to get rid of Enyd.

For the first time since meeting the Assistant Chief Diplomatic Officer, L’Nari genuinely hoped that Enyd was more skilled in fighting than she was at conducting diplomacy. As L’Nari struggled against the slender Klingon however, pushing one clawed hand against his face while he attempted to hold down the other one, she unintentionally shifted their balance enough for him to fall to the side; right on top of the Chon’naQ. When the spear got shoved into the Klingon’s side a little further, he let out a pained roar and L’Nari immediately felt how he stopped trying to restrain her as his hands went to the weapon lodged in his body instead. Straining the muscles in her arms to their limit, the black-furred Caitian managed to throw the Klingon off of her and once again pinned him to the ground instead, glaring into his eyes with her one good green eye while hissing ”Yield!”; hoping that the slender Rebel would have the sense to do so, just so they could save his life before he would bleed out.

Re: Day 05 [ 0945 hrs.] Furry Fists of Diplomacy

Reply #10 –
[ Lt. Enyd Madsen | Mo’Kai Encampment | Central Mountain Range | Qo’Nos] attn: @Nesota Kynnovan

Unlike horses and bulls, Klingons have the cognitive ability to rationalize the most efficient and effective manner in which to dislodge a pesky latcher-on like Enyd. As such, Joe allowed Enyd her momentary sense of victory for a few neck-jarring seconds before he decided enough was enough. His movements growing sluggish, potentially due to lack of oxygen from her restraint, Joe grabbed hold of her arm with both of his hands. At first, Enyd thought he would try to pry her away. But then, based on his grip, she realized his intentions too late. Securing her arm, Joe let out an angry bellow as he launched himself backward.

There was no stopping the inevitable crush. And should he succeed in crushing her beneath his armored back, there would end the tale of Lieutenant Enyd Isolde Madsen. She knew this well enough and despaired of it happening. However, Enyd was not without hope. Hoisting her right leg up between them, she hooked her foot around Joe’s hip, pressing her shin against his back. Enyd used the greater strength of her legs and the required pivot of her joints to push away as they continued their downward free fall. With her hip rotation from the push, Enyd jerked out of Joe’s grasp, twisting until she met the ground painfully face first but free from the crush of Joe’s weight. Her mouth tasting of blood and dirt, Enyd curled into a ball as she rolled onto her back, quickly readying herself to reengage Joe.

It was time to put a present to good use. Pulling her legs in for a low crouch, Enyd activated the hidden compartment in her boot with frenzied movements and grabbed hold of the blade that popped out from the spring load. Her fingers pressed the activation switch as Joe rolled onto his side, growls and grunts punctuated with Klingon curses a promise for more pain if she didn’t do this right. A high-pitched whine met Enyd's ears just as Joe’s eyes met hers. His eyes darted between the vibro-blade and her face, his expression one of disbelief and respect, almost as if Joe didn’t know which one to feel in the moment.

Joe moved first. Swinging his full weight onto his palms, Joe pushed up as he brought his knees in to haul himself to his feet. But Enyd was faster. She sprung forward like a rabid rabbit. As promised, the blade cut through his armor like butter and, unlike with her spear, Enyd didn’t let go of the blade as she brought it back from the initial stab in his gut. As Joe swung his arms in to grab her, Enyd landed two more quick stabs, one to the top of his left thigh and the other in the right hip joint, fairly close to where his “family jewels” might be kept for safekeeping. Joe let out a howling bellow as he sunk to his knees and then fell onto his side.

Enyd stood panting, purple blood vibrating off the blade in tiny spatters across her uniform. She waited to see if Joe intended to reengage. But, based on his rolling growls of incoherent Klingon, it seemed he was done. Turning to look back to L’Nari and Bob, she found the Caitian had subdued Bob and, after seeing Joe nearly de-jeweled by Enyd, Bob looked uninterested in reinitiating a fight.

“Enough.”

Startled by the rebel leader’s shout, Enyd nearly dropped the vibro-blade. She’d almost forgotten why they were fighting. All this to get the rebels to lay down their arms and reintegrate into the Mo’Kai household. Enyd pressed the button and sighed in relief when the telltale whine of vibration dissipated, and it left her holding a “simple” bloody commando blade. As the rebel leader approached, flanked on either side by disrupter-carrying guards, a half-dozen more rebels flooded the field to check on Sam, Joe, and Bob, all but tossing L’Nari away when they reached her. Enyd kept the blade in sight as she tipped her head back to look at the rebel leader. She wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and sleep for days, wake up to drink a vat of coffee, get a massage, then sleep again. But they weren’t done yet. They still had a mission to see to.

“Will you honor your words, sir?” Enyd emphasized the word “honor” with her fatigue-riddled voice and felt a tinge of satisfaction to see the rebel leader wince in response. As Enyd continued, the rebel leader kept his eyes on his men as they were tended to, his expression hard to read. “We have bested your warriors in battle. Will you now consider our words? Will you allow us to arrange a meeting between you and the acknowledged Head of your House to broker peace between you?”

One of the Klingon guards growled out a few phrases, emphatically waving his disrupter between Enyd, L’Nari, and the fallen warriors. It was obvious from his tone of voice that he would much rather shoot them than listen to them. The rebel leader remained silent, waiting until another of his men reported back to him the status of the three who had fought. His lips pulled back into a half-snarl, almost as if he were amused with what was being reported.

“You did not kill them.”

Enyd’s eyes widened. She hadn’t been trying to kill any of them, but Sam had looked pretty horrible, and Bob’s wound had also looked pretty bad. That these guys could take that much damage and live only furthered Enyd’s hope that they remained on “their” side in the war against the Infested. And it was a reminder of just how many food baskets she needed to give to those who had tossed her out of harm’s way in the Great Hall: a ton. One for every inch she’d flown across the room.

“You told us to prove ourselves in battle. You did not lay further parameters for us to operate within. We are standing, they are not. Is that not proof enough that we are worth listening to?” Enyd didn’t need to add that they were only barely standing. One large gust of wind at this point would toss her to the ground, and Enyd didn’t think she had any more fight left in her to push back against a pesky fly.

A few more heartbeats of uncertainty passed before the rebel leader gestured for Enyd and L’Nari to return with him to the main shack. He did not speak further until after they were settled around a table, a cup of smoking Chech'tluth in front of all three of them. He grabbed his cup and raised it ceremoniously in the air. While Enyd wanted water more than anything else, she knew better than to ruin this moment. Mimicking the rebel leader’s movements, she grabbed hold of the cup and raised it to meet his. The pair of them looking over to the Caitian to see if the diplomatic attache was willing to follow suit.

Re: Day 05 [ 0945 hrs.] Furry Fists of Diplomacy

Reply #11 –
[Ensign L’Nari | Mo’Kai Encampment | Central Mountain Range | Qo’noS]
Attn: @Ellen Fitz

While the furious look on his face masked the inner conflict, L’Nari could see that the slender Klingon was at the end of his rope. It was a good thing that he was, because the black-furred Caitian could also feel how the strength was seeping from her own arms while she was strugging to catch her breath. Before he could yield to her however, a voice suddenly shouted out and put an end to the fight for him.

“Enough.”

At that point everything happened rather fast. While L’Nari hesitated to let go of the slender Klingon pinned underneath her, several other Klingons rushed towards them; the Diplomatic Attaché felt how several strong hands firmly grabbed her shoulders before unceremoniously dragging her backwards. Within moments she was simply dropped onto her butt and, due to a combination of exhaustion and utter confusion over what just happened, L’Nari just kept sitting there for several minutes; her green eyes taking in how the Mo’Kai rebels carried both the slender Klingon and three-teeth off towards a shack which could only be some sort of medical wing.

It wasn’t until one of the Mo’Kai rebels poked her and gestured in the direction of Lieutenant Madsen and the Rebel Leader, who were both starting to make their way towards the main shack, when the black-furred Caitian pulled herself back up to her feet again. In all honesty, the Diplomatic Attaché actually wanted to stay seated or even lie down to regain her strength, but despite her exhaustion L’Nari began to follow the hulking Klingon and the Assistant Chief Diplomatic Officer.

Once inside the main shack the three of them were seated around a table where a smoking cup of a rather foul-smelling liquid already awaited them. While L’Nari was grateful for the chance to sit onto something soft, she only needed one look at the cup to know that it contained enough alcohol to bite the paint straight off a starship hull. To her left and on the business side of the table, both Lieutenant Madsen and the Rebel Leader had ceremoniously raised their cups and were looking at her with a hint of expectation, but L’Nari politely shoved her cup towards Lieutenant Madsen.

”I don’t partake, but please enjoy your drinks.” As she spoke, L’Nari bend her head towards the Rebel Leader in a show of respect that could also be heard in her Caitian-accented voice. Most Caitians were rather bad when it came to holding their liquor and L’Nari, along with many others of her species, chose not to drink alcohol altogether; for her, the experience simply added little enjoyment. That, and even if she had enjoyed alcohol, she was not overly inclined to drink with Lieutenant Madsen after everything that had happened today. 

Re: Day 05 [ 0945 hrs.] Furry Fists of Diplomacy

Reply #12 –
[ Lt. Enyd Madsen | Mo’Kai Encampment | Central Mountain Range | Qo’Nos] attn: @Nesota Kynnovan

Before the rebel leader could take offense at L’Nari’s declination of the drink, Enyd grunted the only phrase she knew that was remotely connected to a “cheers” situation: “'IwlIj jachjaj” as she knocked her glass against his. The phrase roughly translated to “may your blood scream,” and it was what Rem had taught her back on the Klingon transport ship before her transfer to Theurgy. Enyd quickly tossed back the smoking ingredients, mindful to keep her tongue as far from tasting it as possible to avoid a gag reflex, and grabbed hold of the second cup with her free hand. She immediately brought it to her lips to tip back once the first was emptied down her gullet, but a fit of coughing waylaid her. Through tears—the alcohol really was devilishly strong—and her coughing fit, Enyd heard the rebel leader’s laugh and felt a strong hand pound on her back, jarring her teeth against the metallic cup. Determined not only for her sake but L’Nari’s as well, Enyd straightened her spine, grunted out the phrase again, and tossed the second round back without further ado.

“Pe’taQ!” The rebel leader clapped his hand once more on her back but left it there this time. “You won’t be feeling your pain soon enough.”

Between his laughter at her expense, he growled out a few orders to those standing not far off, and by the time he sobered and withdrew his hand from Enyd’s back, their comm badges were sitting on the table just out of reach. Enyd knew better than to reach for it. This was the situation where it would have to be given to her instead.

“You will arrange for this supposed new House leader to meet us outside the city at the coordinates my first will share. She may bring three warriors, and I will bring three warriors. That meeting will determine whether she is worthy of our loyalty or if she is cursed fek’lhr.”

While Enyd didn’t understand the derogatory term, she felt the intent behind it and nodded. It seemed a reasonable enough ask. Of course, it could still be a trap. But from what Enyd could tell, based on the fact that they were still alive, though battered for the efforts, at least this leader held to the old ways. It could be within this rebel camp there were others less inclined to play nice, but that was something she’d let Intelligence and Security worry about. She’d been told to find the rebels, she did. She’d been told to arrange a meeting between them and the Chief, she had. They’d never been ordered to survive the mission in one piece, so Enyd didn’t count it as a failure that they’d been caught, beaten, and then nearly killed in an arena in the process of achieving the other mission points. That was just part and parcel of working with Klingons, it seemed.

“My men will now lead you to where you may call for transport. You will be blinded for the journey.”

Before Enyd could protest, a black sack darkened her vision as it dropped over her head. She assumed one of their “guides” would take their badges as they led them from the camp. Or rather, dragged them. The leader had not been in jest, and it was a good thing he hadn’t expected her to make speeches at the end of all that. Her entire body felt hot and vaguely numb, her lips and tongue especially, and the guide growled out a slew of curses when he discovered she now had the body coordination of a newborn giraffe. Despite the gravity of the situation, Enyd let out an alcohol-infused giggle-hiccup combo. Likely L'Nari was just adding her present intoxication to a whole list of grievances and complaints she would take to Rutherford once they were back on the ship. Like a classmate tattle-telling to the teacher. Enyd giggle-snorted again, not even caring when her guide tightened his grip as he finally gave up on trying to get her to walk and instead tossed her over his armored shoulder. Enyd yelped at the initial pain his armor caused her already battered torso but almost immediately fell back into a lulled sense of amusement as her head bounced off the man's lower back.

They didn't bother removing the sack before unceremoniously tossing her to the ground, dropping the comm badges in the foliage beside them, and stomping back into the jungle in the same grumpy fashion. Enyd smacked herself in the face first before she managed to pull the sack from her head and peer at their surroundings. L'Nari looked much as she had before, though the blurry afterimage the alcohol was creating had Enyd blinking a few times to try to clear her thoughts and vision.

"Crewman Samala  hiccup should be on standby." Enyd reached for her badge, missed and grabbed dirt, then tried again. It took three times before she safely had it cradled in her hands. "Are you ready to depart, Ensign?"

Re: Day 05 [ 0945 hrs.] Furry Fists of Diplomacy

Reply #13 –
[Ensign L’Nari | Mo’Kai Encampment | Central Mountain Range | Qo’noS]
Attn: @Ellen Fitz @Stegro88

The offered alcohol was, like almost everything on Qo’noS, strong enough to burn a hole in a starship hull. Yet, despite that, the black-furred Diplomatic Attaché was witness to Lieutenant Madsen salvaging the situation by downing both cups of alcohol like it was nothing stronger than mineral water. If she wouldn’t have been in such pain, which L’Nari fully attributed to the Assistant Chief Diplomatic Officer’s initial decision to make them fight to the death, she would have respected the much smaller woman for such a show of determination.

Alas, L’Nari could feel how the muscles in her arms were screaming as if on fire, one of her teeth was dangerously loose after the direct hit on that side of her jaw, and with every small movement she could feel muscles screaming out in protest of which she wasn’t even aware she’d had them in the first place. It was hard to play the part of Diplomat at that moment, especially because she didn’t even felt like one, so L’Nari silently decided to leave that to Lieutenant Madsen; her gunboat style diplomacy had gotten them this far, despite everything, and all the black-furred Diplomatic Attaché wanted right now was a warm shower, clean clothes, and a soft bed. That, and proper medical attention.

For a while, the exchange between Lieutenant Madsen and the rebel leader continued. And then, just as sudden and unwelcome as their initial arrival had been, the rebel leader mentioned that it was time for them to leave again and their departure was announced by a hood that was pulled over L’Nari’s eyes. As her vision was darkened someone, most likely a Klingon with a connection to the people they’d just fought, painfully knocked her over the head for good measure before they were dragged off.

Hearing the Lieutenant’s merry giggle-hiccup certainly didn’t help.

It was unknown to L’Nari how long they’d been walking before they were suddenly, and rather unceremoniously, dropped onto the ground. The Klingons who had taken the courtesy of dragging them here didn’t even bother removing their hoods, nor offer them any parting words, and as she heard them stomp away L’Nari carefully sat up straight before removing her hood. She could see that the Lieutenant was also peering at her surroundings and, as the woman spoke up, L’Nari just narrowed her good eye in annoyance.

”Just shut up and try not to move too much.” As she spoke up, L’Nari’s Caitian-accented voice held an annoyed tone that only further accentuated the look in her eye. Yet, as she reached out for her own combadge, a friendly smile nevertheless appeared on her face before she added a soft ”Ma’am.” Despite everything, despite the gunboat diplomacy and the fight to the death, and the report that would inevitably find its way onto Lieutenant Commander Rutherford’s desk, they still made it out. In no small part because Lieutenant Madsen knew how to fight. Softly pressing her combadge and opening a link, she spoke up. ”L’Nari to Samala, two to beam up.”

Re: Day 05 [ 0945 hrs.] Furry Fists of Diplomacy

Reply #14 –
[ Crewman Samala | Type-2 Shuttlecraft | Orbiting Qo’noS ] Attn:  @Ellen Fitz @Nesota Kynnovan
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She was bored. There were only so many times that she was able to read through manuals about correct flight operations and shuttlecraft servicing procedures before her mind began to turn to mush. About the only good thing that had come from her extended deployment of waiting in orbit had been the opportunity to lower her telepathic shields and relax her mind. She couldn’t sleep but meditation with a completely relaxed mind had been the next best thing. It wasn’t something that she was able to do aboard the Theurgy. She still hadn’t exactly gotten around to telling anyone that she was a telepath.

”L’Nari to Samala, two to beam up.”

The com broke her reverie and Samala opened her eyes from where she was seated on the deck of the Type 9 shuttlecraft. She blinked a few times before bringing her shields back up as she climbed to her feet and moved to the conn. She locked onto their signals and opened a channel.

“Acknowledged. Standby,” she responded, bring the transporter systems online. “Energising.” She watched her screen, listening as the transporter system rematerialized Lieutenant Madsen and Ensign L’Nari in the aft compartment before turning around to get a look at the two officers.

“Welcome aboard, Ma’ams,” she said calmly, trying to not think about the phrase from Terra regarding cats and being dragged.

Re: Day 05 [ 0945 hrs.] Furry Fists of Diplomacy

Reply #15 –
[ Lt. Enyd Madsen | Type-2 Shuttlecraft | Orbiting Qo’noS  ] attn: @Nesota Kynnovan  @Stegro88

Enyd snorted her giggle back into her throat and took to coughing when L’Nari told her to shut up. The Caitian would be more than a little angry to hear praise for her resilience and fighting from Enyd. Be she drunk or sober, Enyd knew enough about the militant pacifist crewmate to know that any sort of compliment towards something potentially violent in her nature would be met with almost the same amount of disdain the Ensign had consistently thrown Enyd since the minute they’d been assigned a mission together.

And so, despite the stupid amount of alcohol drilling its way through her veins, tempting her to remove clothing and giggle like a child, Enyd exercised maturity and wisdom in the moment. She kept her comments to herself and only gave in to the laughter at Samala’s greeting once they’d beamed aboard the shuttle. Reaching for the tatters of her uniform, Enyd tugged and pulled at it as her body flushed red with warmth.

“I must hiccup inform you, Crewman, that I hiccup inebri..inebra…inebria…drunk. I hiccup am drunk. Ass giggle…assur…because of our misshion. Please,” Enyd waved her hand in the air between them, making a vessel of her fingers and flying them through the air, complete with a soft whistling noise humming out of her throat. “return us to the ship.”

Head lolling to the side and catching sight of both images of L’Nari next to her, Enyd pointed to the Caitian’s swollen eye, “There ish a medcat…kit…next to your sheat.” Enyd pushed herself to her feet, wanting to move to get the kit and lend assistance to the Ensign. Only her balance was shot, and she sprawled into L’Nari’s lap. Staring up at the woman’s feline features, Enyd couldn’t help but whisk her fingers next to one of L’Nari’s injuries, her lips turning down into a genuine look of concern. “Ish think you should be looked after first. Give me a boost?”

Re: Day 05 [ 0945 hrs.] Furry Fists of Diplomacy

Reply #16 –
[Ensign L’Nari | Type-2 Shuttlecraft | Orbiting Qo’noS]
Attn: @Ellen Fitz @Stegro88

Even though it somewhat limited her enthusiasm that she was forced to support Lieutenant Madsen, who was now as intoxicated as such a slender Human could possibly be without spontaneously dying on the spot, the black-furred Diplomatic Attaché was glad to be back aboard a Starfleet shuttlecraft again. After all, following everything they had been through in the Central Mountain Range, L’Nari wasn’t entirely rueful to leave Qo’noS behind for now. Or even for a very long time.

Despite all that, L’Nari knew that the mission was successful. As she acknowledged Crewman Samala’s welcome with an equally friendly, yet deadly tired ”You wouldn’t half believe how glad I am to see you, the added weight of the Assistant Chief Diplomatic Officer made her realize something else; something that could be even more important than the success of their mission. Because, even though the slender Human was clinging onto the right sleeve of her tattered uniform (and, in doing so, only straining the fabric even more to the point where it was starting to come apart at the seam) the black-furred Caitian couldn’t help but feel a certain sympathy towards Enyd Isolde Madsen at that very moment.

Together, they’d gone up against three seasoned Klingon Warriors in a fight to the death, and they survived! Maybe it wasn’t the kind of diplomacy that L’Nari would have preferred but, as she listened to the Human’s intoxicated rambling, she had to admit that the woman was capable in her own distinct way. Even though she had apparently abandoned all notions of modesty by pulling off what little still remained of her tattered uniform.

A soft sigh escaped L’Nari’s lips, which were nevertheless curled in a warm smile, as she turned her attention back to the Klingon Crewman. Before she could ask for two glasses of water and maybe a place to rest, completely ignoring Enyd’s intoxicated rambling about the medkit in the process, the Assistant Chief Diplomatic Officer managed to slip from her gasp and somehow found herself tumbling straight into her lap. Under normal circumstances, the black-furred Caitian would have thrown the woman to the ground but now, she just sighed once more and supported Lieutenant Madsen with one arm while turning her attention to Crewman Samala once again. ”I apologize for Lieutenant Madsen, Crewman. Could you please get her a glass of water and maybe prepare a place where she can rest?”

Re: Day 05 [ 0945 hrs.] Furry Fists of Diplomacy

Reply #17 –
[ Crewman Samala | Type-2 Shuttlecraft | Orbiting Qo’noS ] Attn:  @Ellen Fitz
[Show/Hide]
 
Whatever had happened down on Qo’noS had left the two officers in a state of...Samala wasn’t sure she knew the right word to describe exactly the kind of state that the Terran and the Caitian were in. At any rate, it was clear that she needed to get the two of them back to the Theurgy as quickly as she could safely manage. She was just about to turn back to get them moving when Ensign L’Nari, the Caitian, spoke to her, apologising for Lieutenant Madsen as well as making a few requests.

“The water I can do ma’am but I’m afraid space is at a premium in a Type-2,” Samala explained apologetically. “The best I can offer is either the seat next to me or the deck behind us,” she continued as she shifted to the small replicator. “Water,” she requested, and a cup materialised. Taking it, she passed it back to the Caitian. “If that will be all, I will focus on returning us to the Theurgy.”

Dismissed, Samala sat back down at the controls and brought them about on a heading that would bring them back to the renegade Federation starship. Next, Samala brought up the com system and opened a channel.

“Theurgy, this is Samala. I have both Lieutenant Madsen and Ensigh L’Nari aboard. They are a little worse for wear but otherwise seem ok. We are returning.”
 

Re: Day 05 [ 0945 hrs.] Furry Fists of Diplomacy

Reply #18 –
[ Lt. Enyd Madsen | Type-2 Shuttlecraft | Orbiting Qo’Nos]

The lap was too comfortable and the temptation too great that by the time L’Nari finished speaking with Samala, Enyd was already asleep, semi-cradled in L’Nari’s lap. The human diplomat was wholly unaware whether the Caitian dropped her to the deck or a chair. The occasional snore rumbled through her nostrils as Samala guided the shuttlecraft back to the ship.

In her drunken dreams, Enyd was dancing a victory jig with L’Nari around a fire, hooting and hollering to the level even a Montanan would be proud. To those around her, one might hear the occasional hum or giggle and witness an odd shuffling dance her feet attempted to commit to but weren’t coordinated enough to execute.

“You did it!” Enyd murmured in her sleep, in her dream, giving L’Nari a giant smile. “Good job, L’Nari!” Whether any of her words were comprehensible to her fellow shuttlecraft occupants was beyond Enyd’s ability to know.

To her, they’d been successful; they’d been a team, and now was the time for naps, even if they were taken in Caitian laps.

FIN
 
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