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"Well," B'Elanna said at last, "I haven't built any empires lately-or at all, in fact. But not so long ago, I forced an entire culture to admit it had committed genocide."

Moklor looked puzzled. "In what way was that a Klingon deed?"

"I didn't let them sweep millions of deaths under a rug," she explained. "I made them acknowledge what they had done."

Moklor still didn't seem to get it. "But ... what battles have you fought? How many enemies have you defeated?"

"I can't say I've personally defeated any," B'Elanna responded-a little lamely, she thought. "But the crew of my ship was able to dispel an army of warriors from another dimension."

Moklor scowled. Obviously, he was still unimpressed.

"You have to realize," the engineer went on, "I'm not living among warriors. That limits my opportunities a bit."

The interrogator spat. "Then how do you expect to distinguish yourself as a Klingon warrior?"

A good question, she thought. At least, from Moklor's point of view. "I don't really know. I guess I'm doing the best I can."

"What of your enemies?" the interrogator asked. Have they been more worthy of a warrior's attention?"

B'Elanna frowned. "Worthy?"

"Strong," Moklor elaborated. "And honerable."

She chuckled grimly. "Frankly, I haven't seen a whole lot of honor in my enemies. Take the Borg, for instance-a race of unfeeling, machinelike monsters. They assimilate one species after another, destroy whole worlds full of innocents. Oh, they're strong, all right. They're absolutely deadly. But from where I stand, I'd say they don't rack up many honor points."

Moklor pondered her answer, his eyes gleaming in the firelight. "Those acts alone are not dishonorable," he concluded.

Frustrated, B'Elanna shook her head. She had never comprehended Klingon ways, and apparently she never would.

"Well, then," she said, "maybe I don't understand the notion of honor. Maybe I don't want to understand it. Maybe this is all ... I don't know ... just meaningless gibberish."

Moklor shook his head reproachfully. "A pitiful reply."

The engineer did her best to control her annoyance. "You think so?"

The interrogator nodded slowly. "Let us proceed."

B'Elanna didn't say anything. She just waited for whatever came next.

Moklor lifted his bearded chin. "A warrior must endure great hardship. To test your mettle, you will undergo the Ritual of Twenty Painstiks. After that, you win engage in combat a master of the bat'lety Finally, you will traverse the sulfurous lagoons G.

Gorath ..."

B'Elanna held a hand up. "You know," she said, "I don't think so. I mean, I didn't want to do any of this stuff before you described it. I certainly don't want to do it now."

She inclined her head. "Have a good day, Interrogator. I'm leaving."

B'Elanna started to go around him, but Moklor barred her way. His eyes bulged and turned red with fury as he answered her.

"Not until you have completed the ceremony, p'tahk."

Then he grabbed her shoulders, to make good on his threat. Surprised, B'Elanna cursed and tried to break Moklor's grip on her. But before she could get very far, two of his lackeys came out of the shadows with painstiks.

The devices were aptly named. The charge they sent through her made her feel as though she were being scared from within.

Howling with agony, B'Elanna shoved Moklor as hard as she could. He staggered backward, releasing her. Then she dropped into a crouch, ready to fight the other Khngons in the cave.

One of them assumed a Mokbara stance, showing himself to be a practitioner of the Klingon martial art. He approached B'Elanna with his hands held out in front of him, moving in a rhythmic pattern.

Before she knew it, he had gotten hold of her and flipped her on her back. The impact against the hard stone took her breath away for a moment. Looking up, B'Elanna saw her adversary aiming a blow at her face.

She rolled just in time to avoid it. The Klingon hit the cavern floor instead of her, causing him to cry out in pain. As he grasped his injured