Kahless - Michael Jan Friedman [94]
“That should put an end to it.”
On shaky and uncertain legs, he came down from the balcony. Out of the wind, into the quiet and the shadows.
Now, he thought, came the hard part.
The Modern Age Worf was closer than anyone else to Unarrh’s high seat. When the council member started firing his disruptor at Gowron’s men, the lieutenant knew he had only two choices.
He could retreat and flee Unarrh’s hall-perhaps the safer route. Or he could go forward and try to wrest the disrupter from Unarrh’s grasp.
In his years with Starfleet, the Klingon had learned there was no shame in retreating. Often, it was the wiser course. But in his heart, he was a warrior, and a warrior always preferred to attack.
Besides, it was a good day to die. And the rightness of his cause made it an even better day.
Lowering his head, he put aside any thought of danger to himself and charged the high seat. Just before he reached Unarrh, he caught a glimpse of his enemy’s weapon, its barrel swinging in his direction.
Even as Worf hurled himself at the council member, he was blinded by the blue flash of disrupter fire. But a moment later, he felt the reassuring impact of bone and muscle as he collided with Unarrh.
Apparently, he thought, the blast had missed him. He was not dead-at least, not yet.
Then his momentum carried both him and Unarrh backward, toppling the man’s chair in the process. They landed heavily on the stone floor, Worf’s left hand gripping the council member’s powerful wrist.
Unarrh tried to roll on top of him, to pin the lieutenant with his considerably greater weight-but Worf was too quick for him. Using a mokbara technique he had demonstrated on the Enterprise only a week ago, he brought his right hand around his adversary’s head and grabbed Unarrh by his left ear. Then he pulled as hard as he could.
Screaming for mercy, Unarrh rolled onto his back to lessen the pain. Taking advantage of the council member’s discomfort, Worf smashed Unarrh’s weapon hand against the floor. The impact was enough to dislodge the disrupter and send it skittering over the stones.
But Unarrh wasn’t done yet. Far from it. Continuing to roll, he drove his elbow into Worf’s ribs, knocking the wind out of the security officer-and forcing him to release Unarrh’s ear. And once free, the council member lunged for his weapon again.
Still on his back, Worf grabbed Unarrh by his calf and kept him from reaching his goal. Then, flipping onto his stomach, he got to his knees to improve his leverage.
But Unarrh lashed out with his heel, hitting the Starfleet officer in the shoulder. The shock forced Worf to release him again-but the lieutenant wouldn’t be denied. Leaping on Unarrh’s back, he grabbed the back of the council member’s hairless head as best he could.
With all his might, he drove Unarrh’s chin into the stone floor. Not once, but three times. Finally, after the third blow, Unarrh went limp.
Just in case it was some kind of trick, Worf launched himself over his adversary and grabbed the disrupter. But it wasn’t a trick after all. Unarrh remained right where he was, clearly unconscious.
The lieutenant snarled-all the victory celebration he would allow himself. Then he looked to his comrades.
Picard saw Worf topple Unarrh as Lomakh and his friends drew their daggers. Trusting to his lieutenant’s fighting skills, he drew his own dk tahg and blocked the entrance to the hall.
Unfortunately, there were other ways out-andthe conspirators took one of them when they bolted. Seeing the way to the front door guarded, they fled the other way, deeper into Unarrh’s mansion.
Even then, as it turned out, their path wasn’t exactly clear. Kurn and Kahless managed to tackle two of the conspirators from behind. And a moment later, Gowron flung his knife into a third.
Two were still on their feet, however. As they disappeared, the captain raced after them. Crossing the hall, he saw Kurn tumble end-over-end with his adversary. But the clone was more expedient, slamming his opponent headfirst into a wall.
When the