Log Entry 130309.52

I didn't sleep much at all last night. Not surprising really. The challenge is weighing heavily on my mind. How could I have let myself be drawn into a folly as grand as this? And what sort of handicap could possibly begin to even up the odds in a match between a fragile Human female and a robust, giant Klingon warrior?

In the end, I got up and researched it and what I found was quite interesting.

The challenge will follow the rules of T'Ker Chan. It sounds like a Klingon term but it's not. It actually comes from much further afield and refers to a sporting event where aliens of different species engage in combat. Due to their varying weights and sizes, each opponent is handicapped via a field (very much like the personal forcefields used by the Borg) so that they are equally matched with regard to weight and strength. The victor will thus be the competitor with the most ability.

Obviously, that is not going to save me. I have little expertise or experience in combat, so I needed to find out more about the challenge I had inadvertently made. For instance, who was my opponent?

It turns out his name is Urtok. He was a formidable Warrior with a long list of victories attached to his name, but is now a Master in hand-to-hand combat and teaches those arts at a Klingon training academy. His visit here is to exchange ideas and methods, and also to help expand the understanding between Humans and Klingons. I couldn't have picked a more formidable foe if I had tried.

As to the combat, there will be no weapons. It will be physical combat only by whatever means. All arts are legal: wrestling, kickboxing, martial arts. Teeth and claws, however, are banned.

Eventually, I crawled back into bed and finally nodded off about an hour before the alarm went off. I dressed, grabbed a bit of breakfast and then set off in search of Rutter. After all, he is my mentor.

I eventually found him in the library. I approached him quietly.

"Rutter, can I have a word please?" I whispered.

He looked up from his datapad and grinned wickedly at me.

"You've heard then," I said.

"Indeed, I have," he replied, relish rich in his voice.

I sat down opposite him.

"I need your help."

"You do?"

"Yes. I've checked your record and you are well skilled in hand-to-hand combat. Gold medallist three years running in jiu-jitsu and two silvers in judo."

"And?"

"I need you to teach me some moves."

"What for?" he sounded sceptical.

"The challenge, of course!" I replied rather derisively.

His eyes boggled.

"You're not going to meet the challenge!" he exclaimed and was instantly hushed by the librarian. I leaned closer to him and whispered.

"I don't have a choice."

"You could decline to fight."

"Don't be stupid, Rutter. If I did that, I'd be a complete mockery. I'd be ridiculed by every Klingon alive and would be a liability on any mission involving Klingons. It would severely handicap my career."

He said nothing. He knew I was right, but he also knew what I was asking was completely irrational.

"Okay, so let's say I taught you a few moves. Do you really think you can learn enough about hand-to-hand combat in just a couple of days to beat this Urtok with his years of training and experience?"

I grinned triumphantly at him.

"Oh yes, because I have something he doesn't."

"Really? And what's that? Stupidity?"

"No. Guile."

Log Entry 130302.51

My time at the Academy is drawing to a close and while I'm looking forward to seeing Al, Luke and the others again, I know I shall miss Bairn dreadfully. Her spell here is also nearly over, and by the time I return for my second stint at the Academy, she will have graduated and been assigned to some wonderful new posting. We'll keep in touch, of course, and hopefully our paths will cross again from time to time.

I've learned so much since I have been here. I would never have guessed just how much. It's not all about academia though. Now I can see just how appallingly I behaved on the Drakonia at times and appreciate the importance of control and decorum. We are ambassadors for Starfleet and we have standards to set and maintain. It's not purely for etiquette either. Tackling things in a calm and composed manner avoids rash and unwise decisions. It averts disasters.

Shame I didn't heed my own advice earlier today then because this has got to be marked up as one of my biggest catastrophes ever. I let personal feelings get in the way of what should have been a non-event, and let my stupid, crazy side take over.

I had attended an evening lecture which was very worthwhile, but that meant I didn't leave the lecture hall until after ten o'clock. I was on my way back to my quarters, quite shattered and ready for bed. So, with the lecture hall being on the fifth floor and feeling a little idle, I decided to take the lift down to the ground floor. Usually, I avoid lifts on the premise that I have a perfectly good pair of legs, but I was exhausted so decided to spoil myself. I wish I hadn't.

As I got into the lift, I was still straightening my notes and things, so didn't really look where I was going. The result was that I walked straight into the one person that was already in the lift.

"Oops! Sorry!" I chirped cheerily, but as I looked up, I felt the colour drain from my face.

Level with my nose was a man's belt buckle, and as my eyes lifted higher and higher, they climbed the garb of a Klingon warrior. So high my eyes had to climb, I thought I was going to get a crick in my neck. This was no ordinary Klingon warrior! This chap towered—I mean towered, not like Captain Burrows who was a real bull of a man, but like a skyscraper above me! His head nearly touched the ceiling. I'm not kidding, he was over eight feet tall and as wide as two men put together!

So what's wrong with that, you're asking. Well, I'll admit this to you now in the firm knowledge that it can go no further, but I hate tall people—no, that's not right ... I hate the tallness of tall people. I'm a little bit Dirrian in that respect, but I tend to find them intimidating. They tower over me and look down on me even if they don't mean to. It probably doesn't help that whenever I was picked on as a child, it was always by taller and larger people who belittled my short stature with snide 'shortist' remarks.

Anyway, he looked down at me with menacing eyes so deep and dark, they were like chasms, and as I stood on the edge of them, I felt I was being swallowed up, their blackness enveloping me.

A lump rose in my throat. My mouth became dry and I tried to swallow but couldn't, and then he growled at me. Not a thundering roar, I'll grant you, but as it emanated from his belly, I felt his displeasure reverberate through me.

I felt nauseous and managed a ragged gulp.

"What are you looking at?" he growled, his tone menacing and challenging.

Without engaging my brain, I spoke just one word.

"You." It was said completely without expression but I might just have well have called him a Denebian slime devil.

He bent down to me, pushing his face into mine, his eyes goggling wide in rage.

"I find hu-mans," he stretched the work out like a Ferengi, "particularly feeble, but you have to be the most puny specimen I have ever come across."

Suddenly, that little monster inside of me, the one that refuses to be trodden on, reared its ugly head, splitting away from the sane part of me. Now there were two familiar little voices in my head, each one contradicting the other.

One is sane and sensible and keeps telling me to shut up and get out of there as quickly as possible. The other is like a rabid dog trying to savage his manly parts while hurling abuse, spitting and punching at him.

Guess which side won.

"Your stature is hardly normal, even for a Klingon, so I expect you'll find everybody puny, regardless of species."

As the words fell out of my mouth, my sane side wailed in horror and begged me to be silent. The crazy side, though, was having none of it.

The Klingon said nothing. His eyes narrowed as he glared at me.

"I wonder," I continued, my sane side screaming at me to shut up, but the crazy person egging me on. "If you ever met anybody your own size, would you be so brave and insulting?" and I cocked my head on one side and threw him one of my most demeaning scowls.

He burst out into a hard, forced laugh, throwing his head back as he did so. Suddenly, he lunged forward pushing his face into mine again.

"My size is only outweighed by my skill," he spat. "Even in a handicapped match, I'd still annihilate everyone and anything. I am, and will always, remain undefeated!"

"So you claim, but talk is cheap," I quipped.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO! screamed the sane voice inside my head.

"Ha! So you're challenging me!" he boomed and laughed even harder. "So be it. A handicapped match it is. Unfortunately, I cannot oblige today. I have ... matters ... to attend to; but in three days time, I shall be returning and then ... the Academy has an excellent arena to host such a contest."

The doors slid open, the Klingon exited and my jaw fell slack as my belongings slipped from my hands and crashed to the floor.

Can someone please explain to me how I managed to challenge an eight-foot Klingon to a fight? Better still, can someone tell me how to get out of it?

Oh, what on Earth am I going to do?

Log Entry 130223.50

Bairn's studies are continuing well and, interestingly, she's also started studying Vulcan philosophy. It's given her a new way to consider things and people—a more logical outlook on life. She always was a bright spark who did well in her studies but now, she's really level-headed and more focused. The knock-on effect is that those around her are treating her more seriously too. She is proving that an Orion girl can cut it in Starfleet via a combination of methods. The professors have noticed it too. She has risen from being just another cadet to being one of the rising stars of the Academy. Yes, I can see Bairn going far in Starfleet now and I'm absolutely delighted for her.

She hasn't lost any of her pizzazz though. When we go into town, she is as vivacious as ever and can turn her old charm back on at the click of a finger.

As for me, Bairn continues to teach me how to have fun. I'd never realised how grey and serious I was until I met Bairn. I wonder why that is. What is it that makes some of us so sober and others so gay?

Either way, we've both learnt some very valuable lessons from each other. A little bit of my sobriety has rubbed off on Bairn and some of her frivolousness has brightened me up too. Dare I admit that I am feeling happier than I have done in my entire life? Not that I was unhappy, but I certainly wasn't enjoying life.

And talking about enjoying life, last night we went to see Bella Dinares perform at BeJazzled. She's a really great Jazz singer with a very powerful, sultry voice, very reminiscent of Nina Simone and Amy Winehouse. Her performance was fantastic. She got a standing ovation and performed another three numbers as an encore. The outcome was that we left really late and were making our way back to the Academy through the gardens.

They truly are beautiful and there's a large fountain where Bairn and I have often picnicked. It has a deep edge that's perfect for sitting on, and you can stare into its waters rippling and bubbling away under the waterspouts for hours, they are so mesmeric. At night, the whole area is subtly lit. Even the water is illuminated from beneath giving it a fairytale like quality.

The heat of the day had died down, but the night was still warm. Suddenly Bairn kicked off her shoes and ran over to the fountain. She sat on its edge and looked mischievously at me.

"Shall we?" she dared.

Normally, we would never dream of dipping our toes in the water for fear of upsetting Boothby, but it was late. He'd be in bed and nobody would know.

As I ran over to join Bairn kicking off my shoes at the same time, Bairn swung her legs over the side and dipped her toes into the tempting waters. I laughed as I copied her.

We sat there for ages, chatting and giggling like silly schoolgirls, wiggling our toes in the water that was still warm from the day, and then we became aware that someone was watching us.

About twenty meters away was a stand of bushes and trees, rhododendrons and silver birches. Among them stood the shadowy figure of a man.

"Who's there?" shouted Bairn at the silhouette.

I froze thinking it must be Boothby, but it wasn't. Boothby would have come out and told us off, but this figure just lingered there.

"Come on! We can see you!" she continued angrily.

Realising that he couldn't bluff us by standing still, the figure emerged from the shadows and approached, his hands thrust deep into his pockets. As he came into the full light of a lamppost, I saw him smirking at us.

"Rutter!" I exclaimed. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I wasn't aware you had a monopoly on the Academy gardens."

"I meant spying on us!" I blurted.

"Spying?"

"Or stalking."

"Stalking? Don't flatter yourself, Terran," and he laughed ... jocularly. His voice lacked the disdain I usually detected there ... and he was smiling. Was this the Bairn effect?

"So what are you doing here?" ventured Bairn.

"Same as you."

"We're paddling. You're not paddling," teased Bairn, her eyes bright with excitement.

"Technically, neither are you, you're just dipping your toes. I mean I've been to see Bella Dinares at BeJazzled, just like you."

"I didn't see you there," smiled Bairn coquettishly.

"I saw you though," and he smiled back at her.

Bairn bit down seductively on her bottom lip.

"Wanna join us?" she said lifting one foot and wiggling her toes at him. She was in full Orion attack mode. I gave her a hard nudge with my elbow and she yelped. Rutter turned his head to hide a smirk.

"Not this evening," he said, turned and began to walk away.

Bairn positively pouted with disappointment.

"Awww!" she whined. "That's never happened to me before!"

At that moment, Rutter turned around, walking backwards and said, "Mind the green doesn't wash off!"

Bairn gasped and her mouth fell open. "The cheek of it!" And then he was gone.

"Well, that's just rude!" she said.

I laughed.

"You're just not used to a fob-off! Stick with me Bairn and you'll get fobbed off by the best of them."

"That's not the point. He's so—" and she bit her tongue.

"He's so ... what?" I queried, and Bairn looked away to avoid eye contact. I swear she blushed!

"You like him!" I screamed.

"I do not!" protested Bairn.

"Yes you do!" and I got up, grabbed my shoes and ran off singing, "Bairn loves Rutter! Bairn loves Rutter!"

"Oi! You little oik!" shouted Bairn, picking up her shoes and chasing after me.

As we ran through the gardens, she was very fast and I was in danger of being caught so I sought refuge in a big, old oak tree, scaling up its rugged trunk with ease. I've not climbed a tree since I was a little kid, but it seems you never forget how to do it.

As I settled myself in the crook of a big branch, Bairn stood breathless at the bottom of it.

"Oh, that's not fair!"

"Yes, it is. You can climb too!"

She studied the tree and scratched her head.

"I've never climbed a tree before. Where do I start?"

I laughed at her, but it didn't take Bairn long to master the art and she was soon sat beside me. It was a bit of a squeeze so we wrapped our arms around each other and then revelled in her mastery of tree climbing.

For an hour or so, we sat huddled in the tree watching the stars and discussing our hopes for the future, our dreams and expectations. The black sky softened, the stars faded and the sun began to rise ... and that's when we realised it. We'd been out ALL night!

Urgently, we climbed down from the tree and jogged back to the dorm to arrive just as the alarm clock was going off. I don't know about Bairn, but I've been yawning all day. Tonight, it's definitely an early one!