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STAR TREK Blood of a Klingon Written by Leo_Todrius Supported by my Patrons

The nebula near Epsilon IV was a highlight of the Beta Quadrant. Its azure clouds of gas stretched across a vast field of stars. It gave substance, volume, size and scope to an otherwise infinite void. The nebula had been undisturbed for decades, barely explored by the native populations that called that corner of the Milky Way home. It was an ancient phenomenon that predated the Epsilon Hydrae star and it would most likely last for centuries to come - so long as nothing threatened the delicate balance that held the nebula together.

The first change to the status quo was not an abrupt one. A faint ribbon of purple light began to spread across the horizon, fanning out for several light years. It seemed miniscule, insignificant, avoidable... but it was so very hard to gauge size and distance in space. The ribbon continued to grow, ever wider, ever taller. It was more than just light - it was a pulsating, turbulent, violent storm of energy crashing in on itself, traveling at faster-than-light speeds and it was closing in fast on one small craft trying very hard to evade it.

The runabout shot past the Epsilon nebula as fast as it could, its sandy grey hull and obsidian black windows contrasting and complimenting the vast depths of space around it. Two pylons curved down from the wedge shaped hull, holding onto the warp nacelles that propelled the vehicle at such incredible velocities. The front of the nacelles gleamed a brilliant ruby red while the sides radiated with a rich blue glow.

Inside the runabout the computer was chirping with alarms, warnings, indications and suggestions. The engineering panel protested, warning that the runabout was not designed to push warp six at any time, let alone for over an hour. The science station, meanwhile, loudly warned of the neutronic storm closing from behind at just over warp six. Scans were already projecting the damage the radiolytic isotopes could inflict on organic life.

In the midst of it all, one Starfleet officer struggled to stay ahead of the storm, to coax a little more effort out of the runabout, and to figure out a way to survive. As far as Rafael Perez was concerned, survival was in his blood. His family had survived the Cardassian War, the Battle of Wolf 359 and even Maquis raids. No matter the adversity, they always found a way to survive - and it usually came down to how well they could think on their feet.

Rafael spun his chair from station to station, trying to keep ahead of problems before they could grow into anything larger. He adjusted the plasma flow ratio to try and keep the strain from killing the engine before turning his focus back to the sensors, trying to find anything that could offer shelter from the storm. It seemed hopeless, especially as the storm front closed the distance, creeping toward the runabout with unending persistence.

For the first time since the crisis started, Rafael paused for a split second to afford himself a chance to think. His reflection looked back at him from the two large rectangular windows running down the length of the cockpit, his mirror image staring back at him. Rafael was twenty six, almost two meters tall. His black hair was buzzed short and his skin had a bit of a creamy cocoa tiny to it. He was dressed in a crisp black uniform capped with canary yellow shoulders, a purple turtleneck coming up from the collar of the uniform jacket. Two gold pips were affixed to the neck, indicating the rank of lieutenant. Rafael's hazel eyes looked not at his reflection or even at the readouts, but back through time as he thought about history lessons.

"Osmium... Osmium and... Diburnium!" Rafael exclaimed to no one in particular, remembering fragments of history classes back at the academy. Once more he sprung to action, moving swiftly, keeping the engine running while refining his search for shelter. Few ships had weathered neutronic storms and survived to tell the story, but the few that had made it into the textbooks. The computer chirped after a moment.

"Osmium and Diburnium source detected." The computer announced, the synthesized voice sounding like an unenthusiastic but very confident middle aged woman with a bit of class.

"Identify source." Rafael responded, growing a bit more nervous as he felt the runabout starting to shimmy and shake, the vibrations coming from the leading edge of the storm. He looked up at the window, seeing nothing but swirling, cascading, crashing clouds of violent purple light spreading as far as the eye could see.

"Source is an artificial structure embedded in asteroid E4-Alpha-one-one-three." The computer replied, showing a schematic of some sort of base carved into the depths of one of the larger asteroids at the edge of the Epsilon system. It looked old and there was no power signature, at least one that he could detect, but he was all out of choices.

"Set a course to touch down on the far side of the asteroid and beam me into the facility." Rafael ordered. A condescending combination of beeps and chirps indicated that the computer had tried and failed to carry out the order.

"Unable to comply. Neutronic wavefront intercept in one minute, fifty three seconds." The computer replied. Rafael gritted his teeth.

"Adjust course, land on the closer side of the asteroid and prepare to beam me into the facility." Rafael ordered. The computer beeped, chirped, and then beeped again. It seemed to struggle with the orders but eventually calculated a trajectory that would achieve what it had been ordered to do. The runabout veered downward suddenly, diving at breakneck speed toward the asteroid.

Rafael climbed out of his seat and moved to the back of the cockpit, opening a panel. He pulled out his engineering kit and a power transfer pack and set them on the transporter pad before grabbing a field kit to add to the pile. Once the gear was in place, he rushed back to the front and let his fingers fly over the controls once more. The computer had done a good enough job to plot out a course to the asteroid and to get him inside, but there were certain things that still took a human mind to accomplish.

Landing on the closer side of the asteroid during the storm was certainly not what Rafael had hoped for. The ship would take a hell of a beating, but there was no choice. It could survive the storm a lot better than he could, as long as it didn't get blasted off of the asteroid's surface. Rafael programmed instructions to help anchor the runabout in place and keep it as safe as possible while he waited out the storm.

"Neutronic wavefront intercept in one minute." The computer warned. Rafael's brow started to bead with sweat before he typed in the last series of commands. It was going to come down to a lot of luck and prayer that he would survive this at all. With the last commands locked in, Rafael turned and moved back to stand on the transporter pad. He lifted his hand up, letting it hover over his heart. Pinned to his uniform jacket was a silver delta resting on a gold, hollow rectangle with curved edges. Rafael took a breath before he tapped the pin, activating the communication circuits within.

"Initiate transport." Rafael ordered, reaching down to grab onto his gear. A column of swirling, sparkling blue light swept up over him and his engineering equipment, converting his matter into an energy stream, taking him apart molecule by molecule before broadcasting the energy down through the asteroid into the facility below. From Rafael's perspective, he watched the runabout disappear around him as his entire body filled with a tingling sensation as if his body had gone numb and fallen asleep, only to wake up to pins and needles.

The well lit runabout was gone, and what formed in its place was a large, nearly pitch black intersection between two different hallways. The glow of the transporter beam faded away, leaving Rafael in darkness. Rafael had only a second to compose a thought before the entire asteroid shuddered sharply, knocking the lieutenant off his feet. He toppled to the ground, bracing against the metal deck plating beneath him.

All around the human, the facility shook and vibrated. Outside the storm was striking the asteroid, bombarding it with dangerous forms of radiation and exotic particles. As thick as the shielding was, Rafael could start to feel a faint stinging in his skin, even a mild throbbing behind his eyes. The runabout had chosen the point of least resistance to beam him in, after all the osmium and diburnium would deflect the transporter as much as the storm.

"Come on Perez, you've got work to do." He muttered to himself, pushing himself back up to his feet. He gathered his engineering equipment, hoisted them up and started trying to find a way deeper into the complex. If he could find the central core, he might just have enough protection to wait out the storm without dying. Rafael moved up to an immense metal door covered with embossed edges, panels, strips of ribbed, reinforced struts. Despite the low power, the door sensed his presence and hissed as it split open, revealing another darkened corridor beyond. Rafael took another breath and pressed on, heading deeper into the facility.

****

Soft shuddering waves radiated through the facility, rattling loose panels and deck plates before quieting down again. The storm still raged outside the facility, but it was the leading and trailing edges that put up the most fight. For the most part, Rafael was confident that things were going to be alright in the short term. A soft whirring noise came from his spanner as he tightened a connection between the power transfer kit and the cable running into an access panel. Once he was satisfied with his work, he reached over and tapped the actuator on the transfer kit. The small case snapped on with a variety of lights and a moment later the panel did too.

While the entire facility did not spring back to life, a few fixtures and systems powered up in sequence. The emergency lights came back first, all red light, shining up from beneath the floor grating and recessed lighting along the middle of the walls. The crimson glow cast across bronze colored metal, though it was bright enough for Rafael to make out details about his home away from home.

The most distinct attributes had to be the aesthetic. There were sharp edges and stark angles on everything. It was metal on metal with nothing to soften the look. The bulkheads were tough, the layout utilitarian. One computer terminal finally snapped back to life, the display filling with red and gold shapes, grids and iconography. The script was sharp, curved, distinct and unmistakable.

"Klingon..." Rafael whispered to himself. It made sense given the Epsilon's proximity to Klingon territory, but something about it all seemed a little off. The design was even sharper than Rafael was used to. Everything seemed a little more... primitive. The facility had to be old, a lot older than anything of the Klingon systems he'd trained with at the academy. Still, the first problem had been conquered. With power restored, life support wouldn't be too hard to maintain. It seemed that Rafael had bought himself enough time to leave a message just in case things didn't work out as well as he hoped.

The Lieutenant pulled a small device from a holster on his hip. It was grey and rectangular, though there was a hinge along one edge. He opened it up to reveal a scanning device. It snapped to life as it was opened, one end illuminated by countless scanners, diodes, emitters and receivers. The screen cast warm colors from the display. As fascinating as the scans were, Rafael needed only a rudimentary function as he set his tricorder to record an audio file.

"Personal log, stardate 49884.14... I think." Rafael began, "In the event that this log is recovered sometime after my death, it is my duty to report the events leading up to my passing." He said, hesitating. It didn't seem very Starfleet of him to face the idea of failure, but he had to be practical. Rafael reached up with his free hand, wiping some of the sweat from his brow before he continued.

"My name is Lieutenant Rafael Perez. I am an engineer from the Starship Hera. When returning to my ship after a supply run to Starbase 40, sensors detected the leading edge of a class four neutronic wavefront measuring over three light years across and one on the Z-axis. Even pushing my engines to maximum, there was no way to escape to a safe distance to avoid the deadly effects of the radiolitic isotopes saturating the storm." Rafael reported, realizing how dry it all sounded. He shook his head, reaching up to unzip his uniform, revealing more of the purple shirt underneath.

"With a bit of quick thinking, I recalled times Starfleet vessels had encountered similar phenomenon and searched out anything that could offer shielding from the storm. My scans brought me to an abandoned Klingon facility. While waiting out the storm, I will attempt to make my sanctuary a bit more survivable. At the very least it will give me something to do." Rafael said with a mild smirk before he ended the recording. The tricorder chirped as Rafael closed it and returned it to its holster before grabbing his tool kit. There was a lot to do and plenty of time to do it in.

****

The sound of the tricorder filled the hollow space of the facility; a steady flow of slightly changing humming tones giving Rafael one familiar sense in a space so alien to him. Rafael moved down corridor after corridor, trying to make sense of the layout, to find another piece of the puzzle. He'd made sure life support was working, recycling the old stale air into something a bit fresher. As far as he could tell, the storm would take another day and a half to pass. He had enough rations from the runabout for that, but if the runabout was damaged during the storm? He'd need another way to survive and another way to help.

The lieutenant kept walking, his boots echoing on the deck plating. Even with the emergency lights, each hallway was an eerie blood red and the design of the place wasn't the most welcoming. It reminded Rafael of haunted houses back on Earth, waiting for some fright to pop up behind every corner. He came to a stop outside a door and hesitated. The klingons didn't label their doors like Starfleet vessels did. There could be anything behind the barrier, from a cargo bay to a bathroom.

Rafael reached out and pressed the actuator. The door slid open to reveal a modest sized room. The lights flickered and tried to come on, although only one in the corner succeeded. There were a few pieces of ornamentation on the wall, from a particularly startling mask to pieces of ceramic, an assortment of knives and daggers and a large, four pronged bilateral sword - a bat'leth. It was a weapon that klingons wielded proudly, and Rafael knew they could be used to deadly effect. Rafael's eyes shifted, spotting a recessed portion in the wall about two and a half meters in length, klingons did not use mattresses or bed rolls to make sleeping more comfortable.

"Well, at least I knew someone used to live here." Rafael mumbled to himself to try and make the time pass more easily. He left the quarters behind and moved down the hallway, finding three more sets of quarters. There was some variation between them with some more dedicated to religious shrines while others had trinkets and trophies, but all had some display of an assortment of weapons.

Rafael was starting to give up hope of finding anything useful when his tricorder started to chirp, registering a power source up ahead. While he'd gotten a generator to kick over for the life support, almost all of the power the facility was using was coming from his power pack. If he could tap into something local, he was going to have a much easier time surviving. Rafael moved down the hallway to a double set of doors, again promising, and opened them.

The heavy doors rumbled apart, sliding into recessed slots in the wall, revealing a large octagonal room. There were four medical beds in the center of the room and tall cylindrical tanks of liquid at each corner. Some of the walls were covered in screens and workstations while others were filled with drawer after drawer of samples or instruments. Sensing his entry, some of the systems tried to snap on, but the power source was unstable. Screens flashed on and off, lighting strobed and the illumination around some of the sample containers was ebbing and flowing.

Rafael homed in on the power source itself with his tricorder before crouching down, pulling off the panel covering it. The tricorder relayed details to the lieutenant, offering both bad news and good news. The power cell had been depleted over time and it was not one tht could be easily recharged, but what energy was left was being diverted between countless systems. If he could select which ones he wanted to keep, it could still offer hours or even days of power. Rafael stood up and moved over to the central console across the room, timed his access to when the display popped on and started to turn off systems.

"Don't need the lights... Don't need the bio-beds... I'll worry about the imaging chamber if I get symptoms from the storm." Rafael muttered, moving down the line. With each system he turned off, the easier it was to navigate the system and move through what was next. Rafael's fingers moved across the keys, but when he tried to turn off the sample stasis system, the screen turned red and a klaxon sounded.

The heavy double doors rumbled shut, the steady flow of fresh air abruptly ended and the sound of the klaxon seemed to grow louder and louder. Rafael winced, his eyes trying to squeeze shut to block out the sound, but he forced his hands to work to return power to the sample containers. The power redirected easily enough, but the sudden flood of that much prioritized energy was too much. Sparks erupted from the wall of samples as it overloaded. The emergency lights flashed once more and then died, plunging the room into darkness. The klaxon sputtered and cut out until all that was left was the dull glow from Rafael's tricorder and the steady hum it emitted like a purr.

"Shit..." Rafael muttered under his breath. He moved over to the wall and fumbled around until he found a cabinet and got it open, finding the klingons equivalent to palm lights. He turned one on and it cast an arc of light, illuminating a fine bluish vapor spilling out of the wall of sample containers, pooling around his feet and ankles. Rafael's eyes widened in terror, realizing what this place must have been... Remote, isolated, hidden in an asteroid. It was some sort of klingons medical research facility and he had broken into its vault.

Rafael turned back toward the doors and tried to open them, first with the actuator and then by pulling the panel off the wall. He set his light on a counter aimed at his work and tried to cross connect wires. He also consciously tried to breathe as little as possible, but thinking so much about what had been an automated process made it that much harder to think. The lieutenants efforts in the panel were rewarded by more sparks as the doors opened a few inches. Rafael squeezed through the gap and then grabbed on, pulling the doors shut again behind him.

Unable to help himself, Rafael started to pant a little, especially when he realized he had left his tricorder back in the bay. He had no way to scan himself, to check himself out. Rafael's heart thumped in his chest. He was an engineer, not a science officer... He had been trying to fix a mechanical problem, unaware of the potential consequences... But he had no idea how air tight the doors were after he bypassed them. He had to get a bit of distance, just in case.

****

Silence filled the cargo bay, countered only by the unending rush of questions and concerns in Rafael's mind. He'd retreated to the largest, safest place he could think of, trying to figure out how to survive potentially two dangerous threats to his life. The storm didn't seem as sinister now, mildly rocking the outside of the asteroid. As hard as Rafael tried, he couldn't stop thinking about that cloud of mist that had appeared when he had gotten the light turned on. Now he was in a dim, red tinged cargo bay, sitting around like some case of Andorian whisky.

Rafael sat hunched over on a crate, feeling his heart beat so fast, his breathing move in and out. His mind raced and reeled. What he had done was so stupid, so ignorant, so foolish. Any Starfleet officer should have known better, any of them should have been more cautious and careful... No, not cautious, tactical. He should have approached the situation bravely but with some intelligence. He had been an idiot. Rafael's fingers tightened, digging into his hand until a flash of rage welled up inside of him so hot and so fast that he couldn't help but to yell and to direct that energy out through his body, down his arm, through his fist and into a small crate next to him.

The crate went flying off its perch, toppling down across the deck plating before skidding to a stop. Rafael was a bit surprised at himself at first, not only by the flash of rage, but by how... good it had felt. He had expected his hand to hurt, but instead of sharp pain there was nothing more than a mild throbbing. Rafael lifted his hand and turned it over, looking at his knuckles... and the dark blotches that were there. He wondered for a moment if he had bruised himself, but then he saw the blotches spreading outward.

Rafael sprung to his feet, ready to jump back - from what? His fear? His doubt? His own hand? It was a foolish reaction, but he felt as if his instincts were on overdrive. Fight or flight, ready for action, adrenaline... Yes, adrenaline was coursing through his system. A faint, strange smile began to creep across his lips. The adrenaline felt good, it made him feel alive, more alive than he'd ever felt. Rafael's heart continued to beat harder and faster, stronger, louder, pumping his blood through him at an accelerated pace until it began to throb and sputter and pulse like so many of the systems on the facility failing to operate correctly.

A grunt left Rafael's lips as he fell down to his knees, wincing, shuddering... He could feel his heart stop. He knew that he had only seconds left. He started to feel dizzy, light headed, weaker. He was dying; this was the price of his foolishness. He had killed himself... but then with one miraculous thump, he felt a beating in his chest again - though not where he had expected it to be. He felt one heartbeat, then a second... Two hearts, just like a klingons.

At first, the idea of being alive was enough to give Rafael relief, but the feeling was short lived as he felt more stirring around inside of him. His lungs burned, his kidneys throbbed, his intestines ached. His entire torso felt like it was wriggling, shifting, changing. Rafael rolled over onto all fours, panting and heaving for breath, trying to hang on, trying to survive, trying to understand. All his rational thought came to an end as his entire spine felt as if it turned into molten lava.

Rafael's scream echoed out into the cargo bay as his vertebrae began to soften and shift, collecting more calcium and iron from his system. His uniform started to contort as a boney ridge grew beneath the skin just above his tailbone, then another above it, and another. The smooth skin tented over bumps as they crept upwards along his spine. Each one that grew pushed the rest out longer, and the changes radiated outward along Rafael's ribs as well.

His fingers dug into the gaps on the deck plating. Sweat ran down from his forehead to his nose before dropping down. He hissed and panted, grunting harder as he felt his torso stretching taller and wider. The hidden seam along his uniform collar began to pull apart, revealing more of the purple shirt underneath soaked with sweat. Rafael growled to himself as the ridges pushed up along the small of his back, over his shoulder blades, and then his neck.

Rafael's back was curved over his hunched form, like a beast ready to spring. The heat along his spine reached his skull, burning away any thought until he was left with nothing but reaction to the physical changes... and they were changing fast. More bumps pushed out along the slope of his skull, curving around until they reached the top of his head. Rafael lifted his skull toward the ceiling and let out a roar of pain, discomfort and rage as he felt his entire skull warping.

His smooth forehead began to ripple and bulge as bone plates thickened, fanning out from the vestigial spine that reinforced and supported it. The central ridge was strong, but veined wedges of bone fanned out in angles out toward his temples, reaching down to the bridge of his nose where the cartilage grew thicker and more bony, taking on a ridged bump over the bridge. Every part of Rafael's skeleton had been reinforced, but it seemed the change was far from over. As the heat died away from his spine, it grew hotter in the rest of his body, transitioning out into his flesh.

Rafael felt like his skin was on fire, but he didn't want to die on his hands and knees, not like a coward. He grabbed onto a crate and pushed himself up.. and up... and up. He stood taller than he ever had before, towering over his former stature. His uniform jacket had popped free of his belt, revealing part of his ridged spine... Standing up so fast had made him dizzy, but it had also let him feel a bit of cool air against his skin, cool air that he craved. Rafael grabbed onto his uniform and started to pull, splitting the seam open and tearing it off before he tossed his jacket and turned on his undershirt next.

The violet fabric split out as he tore it, casting it aside. In the dim red light of the bay, Rafael's changing body was easy to make out. His skin glistened with sweat, his spine was lined with bony ridges, his forehead was powerful and strong, and his chest was huge... but it wasn't over, and in a strange, thrilling way, Rafael wanted more. He panted hard with his enhanced lungs, but that strange grin returned to his lips. It was a thrill for adventure, a need for adrenaline, and an odd pride in just how tall he had gotten. He wanted more, he craved more, and it seemed that soon his wish would be granted.

The heat and burning in his flesh seemed to come from rapid cellular division. Centimeter by centimeter, Rafael's chest thickened. His pecs firmed, his abs hardened. His biceps and triceps began to push out, and his legs were thickening with sinewy thick boulders of muscles as well. Even his calves grew out as thick as melons to support his larger frame. Rafael shuddered and moaned, running his hand over his chest - along with the thick boney plating that had spread out from his sternum, reinforcing and protecting his expanded and redundant organs.

It was easy to see how his physiology had changed, but in the red tinted light it had been harder to tell just how much darker his skin tone had shifted, moving from faint caramel highlights to something more earthy, a rich deep brown. It had started on his hands and feet, spreading from his extremities up before sweeping across his back, chest, and finally face. Rafael panted hard, drenched in sweat, feeling more alive than he ever had before, but the sweat soaking his hair felt a bit cooler and colder, separated from his body heat by a few centimeters at first, but then more.

Rafael had kept his hair short since joining Starfleet. It was regulation, but it had been easier just to hit it with a sonic trimmer and not worry about it... but now his hair was growing faster than it ever had, pushing out longer and longer. In moments it looked like a case of messy bed-head, then a shag that had been unkempt for some time, then longer. The black hair swept down over his ears, slipping down over his ridged neck before it hit his shoulders. The hair was longer, smoother and straighter than his own had been, but it was also more billowy. It swept outward from the sides of his head, taking on a fine mane.

The former human turned his head and felt his long hair brush across his back. He turned one way and then the other before grinning, but his moment of pride turned into something else as his mouth started to throb and burn. His teeth softened at first, allowing more minerals to be added, extruding outward. Blunt, flat human teeth sharpened into fangs. Some criss crossed, others were dangerously lined up like the serrated edge of a blade. His mouth filled with more teeth than he had ever had before they firmed and hardened, locking into place.

A dull throbbing flooded around Rafael's eyes as they turned from hazel to an almost orange-brown, the bones above his eyes thickening just a little more before his eyebrows pushed out into a bushy, swept arc. Rafael panted again, trying to reclaim his breath. His body felt powerful, strong, and amazing, but it still felt like it had been put through the ringer. So much had changed in a short amount of time... He took a step, then realized how painfully tight his boots were,

Rafael reached down and tried to remove his right boot, to no success. He tugged a few times before he grabbed onto the synthetic material and began to tear. After some struggling, it gave way and he peeled his larger, longer, wider foot out. It set down onto the deck plate as a bony spike pushed up through the top of it, the skin leathery and tough around the spike. Rafael repeated the process with his other boot, wiggling his new toes, feeling far more at home... but as he looked down at his discarded boots and his torn up uniform, he realized there was still one thing holding him back - his pants.

The former human reached down, grabbing onto his pants on either side of the fastener. He unceremoniously pulled them apart, popping the connections before tearing the fabric apart. He cast them down along with his underwear, taking a step away from them. He could feel the open air on his flesh, all of it. His muscled ass was thicker and stronger than it had ever been, and his creamy rich chocolate cock was just begging for his attention.

Rafael wrapped his firm, strong, thick fingers around his hard cock and started to stroke it, feeling it out as an entirely new experience. His shaft was so thick, growing harder and longer by the second, but even it was ridged with firm segments. Rafael moaned softly, tipping his head back, feeling his mane of hair cascade down his back. His cock throbbed and pulsed and ached, growing out longer and thicker by the second.

He bore his sharp fangs, he squeezed his orange eyes shut, he growled and shuddered and worked his cock violently. His hands worked with a speed and a relentless effort, thrusting his hips, feeling the sway of his balls, feeling his mad lust build and build until, to Rafael's immense surprise, he felt his cock wobble, shift, and then divide in his hand. One very thick cock had split into two, and free of each other, they kept growing again.

Rafael stumbled back, his firm spine hitting a crate as he grabbed onto his second cock with his second hand. He moaned a moan carnal and sinful, he drooled openly, he thrust his hips and pumped two enormous cocks into his hands. He roared and growled and thrashed, feeling one last tingle in his body, one last change taking root as testosterone poured through his veins. The tickle came from his chin at first before spreading out across his cheeks.

Soft, strong stubble pushed through his skin, growing out at a steady, fluid rate. The stubble was so strong and yet soft, pushing out. His chin darkened and then so too did his upper lip. The stubble pushed out into hair, forming a split mustache. The hair was thick where it was rooted, but it grew out around the curve of his lips before it dropped down, descending toward the patch of hair curving out from his chin.

While Rafael was obsessed with his twin cocks, he felt the joy and pleasure of his goatee growing in, filling out and gaining length. It curved outward from his chin several centimeters before curving downward, descending longer and longer, coming to a point that tickled across his collar bone. The edges of his mustache dropped all the way down to rest against the sides of his goatee, shifting whenever he moved his fang filed mouth.

Stood there taller, wider, stronger, hairier and prouder than he had ever been. He had not died, he had become something better... He was a warrior, a beast, a creature of pride and prowess. He was a klingons, he was a male more manly than any he had ever encountered. He threw his head back and howled one last time before his twin cocks jettisoned what little human cum they had left, the pearlescent seed soon replaced by something thicker, more potent, and far more virile. Rafael came hard and fast, sending rope after rope of his seed out across the cargo bay, his brain seared with lust... and the first seeds of a plan most profound. This was a gift that had to be shared. It was his duty as a klingons to ensure the empire grew and added more warriors to its ranks.

****

The runabout rattled and shook, vibrating heavily as the trailing edge of the storm swept over the asteroid. One of the four anchors had been ripped free, causing the craft to wobble and lurch in its position on the rocky surface, but for the most part it had weathered the storm fairly well. The big rectangular windows over the cockpit had been marred with discharges, leaving scorch marks and scratches, but overall the craft had held up relatively well. Little by little, the vibrations ebbed and shrank away until the craft was silent and still. The light outside faded from purple to indigo to black, leaving stars peeking through a veil of the distant epsilon nebula.

"Perez to Runabout, one and cargo to beam up." The command had been routed through the coms, and the computer locked onto Rafael's combadge. Swirling, sparkling blue light filled the miniature transporter pad in the runabout's cockpit, revealing Rafael's towering, proud form. He had found a tight silver vest that showed off his muscles, as well as black leather pants, the codpiece cupping his double set of huge cocks. His combadge seemed almost out of place pinned to it, but it was necessary to get back to the runabout.

Rafael moved up to the pilot seat and sat down, pausing to turn and look back at his cargo. He had collected every sample of the virus he could, enough to transform a starship, maybe more. Content that it was secure, Rafael started the process of powering up the runabout and choosing a destination. The engines sputtered to life, the anchors released and the runabout lifted off the surface. Once the vehicle had pushed away from the asteroid, Rafael reached over to press a button on the console.

"Personal log, supplemental. While taking refuge on an abandoned Klingon facility, I made the most amazing discovery. Who would have thought that waiting out a storm would teach me so much about the connection between humans and klingons... How our own dark age of eugenics had left fear in their hearts, enough to tamper with their own genetic code, to contaminate it with human genes.... It took them decades to solve, but their solution was as virulent as it was sublime. The virus that cured them of their human contamination has cured me as well... I am no longer Rafael Perez, I am Rafi.... A new breed of klingons warrior, and I will show more what it means to have the blood of a klingon running through their veins."

With his log complete, Rafi leaned back in his chair, looking out at the stars. He felt adrenaline coursing through his body. His was a glorious mission, but it would be a pleasurable one too... He couldn't wait to help new warriors feel their bodies change and shift, growing more powerful... and to assert his dominance as their leader, to relish in their pleasures with them, and to advance their cause. Rafi shuddered with pleasure, feeling his leather pants tighten as his twin cocks grew harder yet again.