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hin his own sinews, and as deadly as a hunting
cat. Swiftly he donned the armor, guarding carefully against
possible attack. Then he rose, saying, "The field is yours. What
form shall the combat take?"
Naoko Akiyama turned away from him then, and knelt before an ornately carved
wooden case. After watching Naoko's execute katas in 3 G conditions,
Worf would have hesitated making an attack, even if he were
treacherously minded. He watched with true appreciation as she
opened the case, revealing within two sets of weapons for the
Sun'gharghtaj, the formal duel that tested a warrior's courage or
passion. The silver yoDtajmey for the left hand, curved double
tines wrought in starship-hull grade duralloy, gleamed like
starlight, and the golden gharghtajmey, with their rippling
flamelike, pattern-welded blades of iridium-plassteel, caught light
against their faceted edges, throwing yellow-gold glimmers away
like the decay of an antimatter reaction. "Those are antiques from
TlhIngan! Where did you acquire them?" he growled, impressed
against his will by the magnificence of the blades before him,
distinctive in their style, the hard K
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