Michael A. Martin's solo short fiction has appeared in
The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction. He has also coauthored (with Andy Mangels) several
Star Trek comics for Marvel and Wildstorm and numerous Star Trek novels and eBooks, including the
USA Today bestseller
Titan: Book One: Taking Wing; Titan: Book Two: The Red King; the Sy Fy Genre Award-winning
Star Trek: Worlds of Deep Space 9 Book Two: Trill -- Unjoined; Star Trek: The Lost Era 2298 -- The Sundered; Star Trek: Deep Space 9 Mission: Gamma: Vol. Three: Cathedral; Star Trek: The Next Generation: Section 31 -- Rogue; Star Trek: Starfleet Corps of Engineers #30 and #31 ("Ishtar Rising" Books 1 and 2); stories in the
Prophecy and Change, Tales of the Dominion War, and
Tales from the Captain's Table anthologies; and three novels based on the
Roswell television series. His most recent novels include
Enterprise: The Romulan War and
Star Trek Online: The Needs of the Many.His work has also been published by Atlas Editions (in their Star Trek Universe subscription card series), Star Trek Monthly, Dreamwatch, Grolier Books, Visible Ink Press, The Oregonian, and Gareth Stevens, Inc., for whom he has penned several World Almanac Library of the States nonfiction books for young readers. He lives with his wife, Jenny, and their two sons in Portland, Oregon.
Andy Mangels is the USA Today bestselling author and coauthor of over a dozen novels -- including Star Trek and Roswell books -- all cowritten with Michael A. Martin. Flying solo, he is the bestselling author of several nonfiction books, including Star Wars: The Essential Guide to Characters and Animation on DVD: The Ultimate Guide, as well as a significant number of entries for The Superhero Book: The Ultimate Encyclopedia of Comic-Book Icons and Hollywood Heroes as well as for its companion volume, The Supervillain Book.
In addition to cowriting several more upcoming novels and contributing to anthologies, Andy has produced, directed, and scripted a series of sixteen half-hour DVD documentaries for BCI Eclipse, for inclusion in the He-Man and the Masters of the Universe DVD box sets.
Andy has written hundreds of articles for entertainment and lifestyle magazines and newspapers in the United States, England, and Italy. He has also written licensed material based on properties from numerous film studios and Microsoft, and his two decades of comic book work has been published by DC Comics, Marvel Comics, Dark Horse, Image, Innovation, and many others. He was the editor of the award-winning Gay Comics anthology for eight years.
Andy is a national award-winning activist in the Gay community, and has raised thousands of dollars for charities over the years. He lives in Portland, Oregon, with his long-term partner, Don Hood, their dog, Bela, and their chosen son, Paul Smalley. Visit his website at www.andymangels.com.
One
2218 (the Year of Kahless 844,
early in the month of Merruthj)
Qo'noS
"The Lady Moj'ih grows impatient," Do'Yoj said brusquely. Her boots drumming an impatient rhythm against the stone floor as she walked, she ushered the two physicians down the dim corridor toward the sprawling villa's center, where its largest bedchamber lay.
The master bedchamber had become the sole domain of the Lady Moj'ih ever since her husband Ngoj had fallen in battle against the cursed RomuluSngan at Nequencia nearly four months ago. And since that unhappy time, the ornate room's tapestry-draped walls had come to mark the boundaries of the Lady's existence. Do'Yoj thought it had become a veritable throne room for her reclusive mistress, who was now the de facto head of the House of Ngoj, one of the few ruling matriarchs among the noble classes of Qo'noS.
And now, as the Lady Moj'ih's ever more complicated pregnancy advanced inexorably toward term, the chamber had become a prison in all but name.
"My apologies," said Hurghom, the taller of the two doctors, speaking a bit too obsequiously for Do'Yoj's taste as he came to a stop behind Do'Yoj just outside the heavy wooden bedchamber door. Was he mocking her? Or was he merely trying to adopt the tone most appropriate for a smooth-headed QuchHa' such as himself?
Dr. Nej, whose darker countenance contrasted sharply with Hurghom's owing to its prominent frame of cranial ridges, spoke a good deal more boldly.
"I am sure that the Lady Moj'ih will understand the reason for the delay," Nej said, raising to eye level the small black valise he clutched in his gnarled right hand, as if to emphasize his point. "The procedure we must undertake this day requires the utmost delicacy if we are to avoid bringing harm to the Lady's child."
"We have to be certain that we get this right in every detail," Hurghom said, his disturbingly smooth head bobbing in agreement with his colleague's words. "I'm sure you will agree that much is at stake. And what is at stake is nothing less than a male heir to the House of Ngoj."
A future patriarch of this noble House, Do'Yoj thought with no small amount of resentment. An heir who will doubtless have as much to conceal as his parents did, if he is to maintain this House's power and prestige.
Answering Hurghom with only a tart scowl, Do'Yoj turned and pushed on the door with her shoulder, leaning into its superbly balanced bulk so that it began to move smoothly and silently inward on its well-oiled duranium hinges.
The room beyond the threshold was dark, shrouding its sole occupant in gloom. Do'Yoj entered and stepped to the side, allowing the physicians to waste no further time before converging upon the large bed that was mounted on the raised dais in the center of the room. Do'Yoj wasn't entirely sure that the Lady Moj'ih was actually in the bed until she spoke, her rounded belly moving noticeably beneath the tangle of bedclothes.
"What is the reason for your tardiness?" the Lady said, addressing both physicians in an imperious tone suited to a woman of noble breeding. Do'Yoj thought it was a tone suited to one born to the birthright of the HemQuch, those who, unlike Dr. Hurghom, possessed the cranial ridges that had been the genetic patrimony of every Klingon, from the boldest warrior to the humblest tiller of the soil, since long before the time of the unforgettable Kahless.
Do'Yoj, of course, knew the real truth behind the Lady's brave façade. As the Lady Moj'ih's most trusted personal retainer, there was no way that Do'Yoj could ignore the fact that her haughty, proud-visaged mistress was actually just as smooth-browed -- and thus every bit as disgracefully QuchHa' -- as Dr. Hurghom and his ancestors. Do'Yoj was all too aware that the Lady's striking brow ridges, scarcely visible in the room's dim light, were prosthetic fakes. They were biosynthetic implants -- which required frequent cosmetic maintenance, despite having been surgically attached to her skull -- and had been used covertly by members of the influential House of Ngoj ever since the Great Qu'Vat Plague of 1462, a disaster that lay more than half a century in the past.
Maintaining the noble deception with sufficient care from day to day is becoming too taxing for the Lady in her current condition, Do'Yoj thought, blending invisibly into the blood-hued tapestries as she watched her mistress begin conferring with her physicians, one of whom applied a moist towel to her forehead, which the Lady held in place with her hand, covering up her false brow ridges. If the Lady Moj'ih would not trust even Do'Yoj to see to the upkeep of her prosthetic forehead -- perhaps she was unwilling to appear vulnerable before a social inferior whose own natural cranial appurtenances marked her as one of the Lady's biological betters -- then it was unsurprising that Moj'ih had opted to hide her chronic shame using both a towel and a shroud of darkness.
"We came as quickly as we could, My Lady," Dr. Nej said, matching the Lady Moj'ih's brittle tones with the no-nonsense manner of a senior physician who was used to receiving more deference from his patients -- even the noble ones.
Perhaps, Do'Yoj thought, this is because he, too, knows the truth that the Lady must keep concealed at all costs.
"The procedure we must undertake has not received extensive testing prior to today," said Hurghom, again speaking in that placating manner that Do'Yoj found so very irritating. "We had to be as certain as possible of the outcome before proceeding with the final phase of the child's genetic alterations. Especially in light of...the unfortunate occurrence not so very long ago on Qu'Vat."
"I should think you would be the last one to remind anyone of your failure at Qu'Vat," Moj'ih said, the moist, sharpened points of her bared teeth glinting in the room's scant light.
Though she remained standing in silence at the room's periphery, Do'Yoj was inclined to agree. How many had died on the Qu'Vat colony during Hurghom's most recent attempt to rid the Klingon people of the Earther genetic baggage with which his ancestor Antaak had saddled them during the previous century? The death toll had to be in the tens of thousands, at least. That many QuchHa' had died in the space of a single afternoon, the shame of their Earther-smooth foreheads -- the tragic, so-far-indelible mark with which Antaak had imprinted their forebears decades earlier in the process of saving them from the Levodian plague -- compounded with the shame of being denied entry into Sto-Vo-Kor through a warrior's honorable death in battle.
Do'Yoj reflected that Hurghom's failure could have been far worse. After all, the doctor's ancestor Antaak had inadvertently killed millions during his own attempts to rid the Klingon genome of the Earther taint he had inflicted upon it decades ago.
"Wisdom comes from experience," Dr. Hurghom replied in a meek voice.
"Just as experience may come from foolish errors," Nej added with an audible sneer as he set his black valise upon the foot of Moj'ih's bed and opened it. He withdrew a wicked-looking, almost mek'leth-sized device that Do'Yoj assumed was a hypodermic needle, along with a small handheld scanning device.
"My Lady, can we get some light in here now?" Nej said, displaying his instruments as best he could in the room's inadequate illumination. "Then we can get on with the task ridding the next head of the House of Ngoj of the consequences of Antaak's so-called cure."
Responding to a nod from her mistress, Do'Yoj moved toward the lighting controls in the chamber's southeast corner and brightened the room.
She watched in silence as Nej slowly pulled back the bedclothes, raised the needle, and leaned toward the Lady Moj'ih.
2218 (the Year of Kahless 844,
late in the month of Merruthj)
Qo'noS
Another contraction came, this one striking a few heartbeats sooner than the Lady Moj'ih had expected. The pain lanced through her insides like a bat'leth blade still white-hot from the forge. She cried out, her agony giving way to shame at her weakness, as well as to a momentary gratitude to the heedless fates that Ngoj could not be present to witness her disgrace.
She lay back and bit down on her lip until it bled freely. Only a little longer, she told herself yet again, continuing to repeat the phrase endlessly in her mind, like a monk performing meditation mantras in one of Boreth's monasteries.
"Keep pushing, my Lady," said the ever-loyal Do'Yoj, who was standing beside her, clutching her hand. Moj'ih clutched back nearly hard enough to shatter every bone in the handmaiden's stout forearm.
Lady Moj'ih did as her handmaiden bid her. I can accept a smooth-headed child if I must, she thought, acknowledging the peace she'd had to make with the high likelihood that Hurghom and Nej's retrogenetic efforts would prove to be a failure once her infant finally emerged. There was an argument to be made, after all, that the curse of being QuchHa' had toughened her House, forcing its members to cultivate strengths lacked even by many of their HemQuch cousins.
Moj'ih was well aware, after all, that the hereditary handicap that she and Ngoj shared -- a trait that he had never hidden beneath prosthetics, as she had -- had motivated her late husband to achieve the much-sought-after military rank of HoD. It had also pushed him to achieve command of the I.K.S. Ghobchuq and its highly heterogeneous crew -- the cruiser had carried a mixed complement of both QuchHa' and HemQuch -- and to retain that post for more than a decade.
Do'Yoj, by contrast, had remained for years in a servile position within the House of Ngoj, despite being a HemQuch with relatively easier access to the higher social classes than most smooth-headed Klingons enjoyed. Hurghom, likewise, had doubtless had to work extre...
