ENT - 012 - Kobayashi Maru

TWENTY-EIGHT

Monday, July 21, 2155 Qam-Chee, the First City, QonoS

S OMETIME DURING THE LAST INSTANTof life he expected to experience, Jonathan Archer made a decision: He simply wasnt going to stop fighting.

Even as Krells batlethblade descended toward his head, Archer brought his own weapon to bear in front of his face, one hand on the traditional grip, the other grasping the outer blade.

The tip of Krells batlethsliced through the gap between the outer and inner blade of Archers weapon, becoming trapped there, wedged mere inches from Archers face. He grimaced, ignoring the pain in his punctured side, ignoring the blood that slickened the outer blade beneath his lacerated fingers, and twisted with every ounce of strength he still possessed.

Krells blade suddenly torqued to the side, and he grunted in anger as one of his hands lost its grip.

Archer kicked upward with his boot, connecting hard with the Klingons crotch. He knew it was a dirty tactic, but he was already long past observing the Marquess of Queensberry rules.

Krell shouted in commingled pain and rage, his other hands grip loosening on his batlethjust enough to enable Archer to twist the interlocked blades even further, until the combination of leverage, momentum, and muscle pulled the weapon entirely out of the admirals grasp. Archer quickly threw the two still conjoined weapons as far across the cavern as he could, then rolled even as Krell moved to tackle him.

Scrambling to get his feet back under him, Archer lunged forward, grabbing Krells long hair and pulling it hard so as to ratchet the Klingons head violently to one side. He quickly slammed the palm of his hand into Krells eye socket, then backed away as the Klingon flailed his arms, apparently disoriented.

Then Archer saw that Krell was headed directly toward the fallen weapons, and dashed toward him to keep him from grabbing the mutually jammed blades. The Klingon crouched, sweeping his foot out and connecting with Archers ribs. At least one rib broke with a sickening crack.

Now it was Archers turn to scream as he staggered back and crashed against a stalagmite. The impact knocked Archer painfully onto his belly, and the Klingon instantly leaped onto his back, his knobby hand clawing at Archers face. Krell dug his fingers into the captains mouth and pulled at his cheek, as if he meant to rip his face off entirely.

Archer rolled forward, flipping the Klingon over his back, praying that the momentum would make Krell let go of his cheek without major trauma. Krell toppled over the top of him, crashing back against another rocky outcropping. This one, however, was evidently less durable than the one Archer had just struck; it exploded into a spray of dirty powder and chunks of porous rock from the impact.

Moving toward the entangled batleths, Archer saw Krell scrambling back to him again, swinging his huge right arm in a haymaker punch. Archer sidestepped and ducked, then planted both feet and caught the Klingons arm as it passed him by millimeters. Archer pulled the arm forward and down very quickly, using the Klingons own momentum to unbalance and topple him. The simple judo move flipped Krell over, and the admirals shoulder made an unpleasant-sounding pop as his body slammed into the rocky floor.

Archer stepped toward the batleths again, but Krell scissored his legs out, catching Archers foot. He fell to the dirt, his fingers scrabbling against the ground only centimeters from the fallen blades.

Krell stood up, his right arm hanging limply at his side, his face caked in purplish blood and mud. He swayed unsteadily for a moment, then moved again toward the weapons.

Once again, Archer turned his opponents own movement against him, though this time he kicked at the back of Krells knees. One of them blew outward, a shattered shinbone tearing open the Klingons pants in a spray of purple.

Letting out a sound of pain unlike any Archer had ever heard, Krell fell to the ground. Unfortunately he landed close enough to the entwined batleths to wrap his good hand around one of them.

Archer stood, wincing at the pain in his side, his mind racing. Even injured, Krell would be unassailable if he managed to take up both weapons.

UnlessI dont usemyself as the target,Archer thought. Crouching, he scooped up a double handful of the dust the broken stalagmite had scattered on the ground and flung it straight into Krells snarling face.

The debris cloud momentarily blinded the Klingon, long enough for Archer to slip behind him. With a roar, he tackled Krell, moving his arm smoothly around his foes neck in a chokehold.

Krell flailed with his good armpulling the batleths apart and dropping one to the ground in the processas he tried to dislodge the human clinging to his back. His fractured leg refused to support him any further, however, and he crashed to the ground, with Archer clinging to his back all the way down.

Archer released the Klingon and rolled away from him, grasping for his weapon and finally connecting with it. He heard a whistle in the air as he rolled again, and Krells blade struck the ground where his leg had been half a heartbeat earlier.

Scrambling to his feet, Archer grasped the batlethby both grips, raising it as he turned to see that Krell had somehow managed to get up and now stood just a few meters away. Froth flecked the Klingons lips as he moved to close the gap between the combatants and prepared to deliver another deadly blow with his weapon.

Barely avoiding the batleths impact, Archer sliced his own blade toward Krell, even as the Klingon fell toward him.

For a moment that seemed frozen in time, Archer felt resistance, then saw a violet-hued spray and heard a guttural scream.

Turning, he saw Krell on the ground, writhing in shock and spurting blood from the stump that terminated just below his left shoulder. Krells severed arm twitched in the dust, its hand still gripping the batleth.

Archer could feel his head swirling and his side aching as he knelt beside the Klingon. He quickly removed the belt from his pants and cinched it around his dazed foes stump, slowing the spurt of arterial blood significantly. Krell had fallen too far into a realm of pain and shock to notice, or to resist.

Archer looked up, for the first time in minutes noticing and hearing the screams and cheers and shouts coming from the gallery above. He focused his gaze on one particular section near the front, where he saw the chancellor and several High Council members standing. They didnt look at all pleased by the outcome of the combat.

At that moment, Archer couldnt have cared less about their reactions, their vanity, or their so-called “honor.

“I have defeated Admiral Krell in lawful combat, Archer yelled, aware that his voice sounded hoarse and ragged. “He fought honorably, as did I. But I came to QonoS to avoidspilling any more blood. Not Klingon blood, not Teranganblood.

He pointed to Krell. “This man is a credit to the Empire, and a fierce warrior. He deserves to continue aiding his people, to push the Empire ever forward. I will notkill him. Mypeople would not consider such an act in any way honorable.

He stared directly at the chancellor as he spoke, hoping that his own waning strength and nearly blinding pain wouldnt overwhelm him entirely before he finished making his point. “ Ihave satisfied your challenge. Ihave fulfilled my promise. Now youmust do the same.

Archer felt his legs suddenly go weak, as though they had in an instant turned to water. His vision grew hazy, and the chancellor appeared to be withdrawing into a dark tunnel, an inscrutable expression on his face as the crowd in the gallery roared incomprehensible things.

Then darkness came, followed immediately by silence.