|
Post by norcaler on Nov 13, 2015 22:32:31 GMT
The First City of the Klingon Imperial Empire
K'Vok stood upon the roof of a hovel in the Slum District he had been using for nearly a month in capital city. He had cornered and had a rather long talk with Agent "Shishi" Hsalo of Imperial Intelligence, acting on behalf of Lady Tira Vero of the House of Karag in the alley below. His disguise of a large black wig and a glued-on eye patch chafed and he wanted nothing more than to tear them both off, but after he climbed up the side of the building, a sudden rainstorm descended on the First City and he embraced the urge to lean back and let the deluge wash over him. He found the rain cleansing, healing almost; like it was an absolving bath cleaning him of not just the actions he took to strand the HoS'ro' on Qo'noS, but of every misstep he had taken in his relatively short life. The rain reminded him of his first day as an officer of the Imperial Klingon Defense Force...
It had rained similarly at the Training Academy at Ogat; the weather on Qo'noS had been one of extremes long before the destruction of Praxis, varying from severe drought to torrential downpours within the span of but a couple of turns. K'Vok had not been to Qo'noS much in his youth; after his mother left the family, he had spent most of his childhood on tengchaH Kladh and various colony worlds his father had saw fit to drag him to. But on Qo'noS at Ogat, he had experienced his first Klingon rain.
"Stand at attention!" the instructor of the cadets had barked; lightning and thunder occasionally adding additional emphasis to his punctuation. K'Vok had stood ramrod straight while clad in his training armor, standing in the front row of new arrivals and thus right in the firing line of their new master, who stood beneath the large statue of Kahless the Unforgettable and seemed to carry himself befitting a warrior who had to live up to such a standard. "I am Yultan, headmaster of the Training Academy of Ogat! Your houses and families have trained good warriors, otherwise you would not be here, but I desire to create great officers! Officers who will one day have the most singular honor bestowed upon anyone in the galaxy: to serve aboard a Klingon warship! If you fail, then you will return to your homes in disgrace, but I am certain you could always apply to join Starfleet!"
That elicited an almost nervous laugh from the new recruits; even K'Vok joined in, but Yultan quickly silenced their mirth with a harsh bark of, "mev'yap!"
Once hushed, the sounds of the rain and winds almost became deafening. Yultan paced before the front row of cadets, each time pivoting in front of K'Vok. "You pathetic homm must first learn discipline! You lot may have survived the Oversight Board, but you have yet to survive me! And I care not for whose banner flies over your house, to whom you claim lineage! For when you first pass through the gates of the Training Academy, you are nothing! When I give you permission to pass through those gates again in the uniform of an officer of the Klingon Defense Force, only then will you have proven something to me. So start proving yourselves to me now, whelps..."
It had been a harsh education for K'Vok in those days and despite his...rebellious tendencies and the headmaster's bias against house affiliation, he had survived. And yet, in all his turns at Ogat, Yultan never said more than three words to K'Vok. The criticisms and punishments came from subordinate instructors; the insults to the House of Ka'rel and how K'Vok would never amount to anything because he was only a nephew from his fellow Klingon cadets. Yultan merely watched from afar; his judgments silent and written and in the turns since K'Vok wondered that in spite of the headmaster's warning against relying on one's ancestry at Ogat that somehow being a member of the House of Ka'rel ensured his graduation and commission.
But the rains of Qo'noS always returned K'Vok to that day; the day where his future awaited him. The drops falling on his skin triggered the memory as if they were pressing the proper buttons on a holodeck control panel. Now wanted by the very Klingon Defense Force he had obtained commander rank in, trying to pursue the conspiracy of the House of Karag with the help of a Ferasan he was fortunate to recognize before he beheaded her on the streets below, the rain seemed to provide him a moment of solace. At least it did until the communicator tucked into his gauntlet beeped.
"Yes?" he asked into it.
"There's a gap in the local scan cycle coming up in three minutes, Captain," said his first officer, K'Ulayr. The HoS'ro' had landed on the planet surface at the far reaches of its transporter range from the First City. While he was cloaked, a transporter beam would draw attention from aerial patrol ships and the capital's security network; gaps between both happened, but they were rare and brief. "Do you require transport?"
"Beam me back and prepare for lift-off."
"Yes, Captain. Stand by..." K'Vok waited for the beam out even as the rain continued to drench him and the raggedy clothes that made up the rest of his disguise; a costume to make him look unassuming, to make him other than a warrior of a noble house and captain of a Klingon warship, neither of which could remain true if he and his crew failed to escape the security gauntlet around Qo'noS. A far cry from where K'Vok thought he'd be when commissioned...
"K'Vok, son of K'Dak, step forward!" Yultan shouted on the day of commencement, which unusually was a calm day and fed into the cadets suspicion that there was a weather modification network at play at Ogat. "I proclaim you now lieutenant in the Imperial Klingon Defense Force! Glory to you and your house!"
K'Vok saluted the headmaster by thumping his right fist to his left breast, but there was not much more than that. After a simple exchange repeated for several dozen surviving cadets, he had become an officer. Other than a pithy saying of encouragement uttered to children practicing with wooden bat'leths to inductees into the actual Order of the Bat'leth, that had been it. K'Vok had been shipped out to his first posting almost the minute the commencement ceremony had ended (Klingons didn't believe in receptions, let alone those with cake) and hardly looked back until this day. Standing atop a rain-stricken multi-story hovel that might have given way beneath his feet if the wind had begun to pick up.
The feeling of rain faded as the transporter beam enveloped him and the surroundings of the First City faded in an angry haze of crimson. The small transporter room on the main deck of the HoS'ro' appeared around him and K'Vok spotted his first officer standing before the twin transporter pads with her hands behind her back. But as Shishi implied, there wasn't much time. He stepped off the transporter and towards the corridor that led to the bridge, discarding his wig and eye patch on the deck.
"I trust your visit to the First City was successful, Captain," K'Ulayr said as she marched two paces behind him.
"We have a way past the system's defenses, but we will only have a short time," K'Vok as he stepped onto the bridge and quickly sat upon his throne like the rapid landing the HoS'ro' made in this desolate plain far from the First City. "Moruk, is my ship ready for take-off?"
"All engines primed, Captain," answered the chief engineer, a middle-aged Klingon male. "I will admit that this little stop gave me plenty of time to tune them properly..."
"Husband," warned Karune, ship's science officer and clearly Moruk's wife, "not now."
"Yes, par'mach'kai."
"Helm, begin lift off procedures," K'Vok ordered.
"Yes Captain," replied Lynnush, a gray female Orion. Even though the HoS'ro's cloaking device was engaged, he still made noise within the atmosphere of a planet. His impulse drive and thrusters roared to life and there was a telltale sensation of inertia pushing the bridge crew down as the old bird of prey ascended from the surface of Qo'noS, frightening off the small creatures in the area. The helmswoman's hands masterfully guided the HoS'ro' past her initial ascent stage and once clear of a mountain range she announced, "One quarter impulse power. Landing gear retracted."
"Wing: cruise configuration. Continue ascent until planetary orbit. Any sign we were detected?"
"Negative, Captain," said R'og, the diminutive Gorn tactical officer who lost a brother to this madness. "Suborbital patrols were no where near us."
"Very well," K'Vok concluded. "Commander K'Ulayr, summon Bekk Vokna to the bridge."
"Yes, Captain," she replied as the ship bucked under the turbulence and winds of the planet's atmosphere. Within moments, the cloud layer that rained upon the surface of the planet gave way to daytime sky and mere seconds later, the blackness of space.
"We've cleared the planet's atmosphere, Captain," Lynnush reported. "Estimate perigee in five minutes."
"Alter your orbital approach for Praxis," K'Vok said as he stood up from his throne, the inertial force now seemingly neutral on the bridge. "Take us right through the debris field."
"Debris field?" asked Melea, the ship's green Orion surgeon, as she entered the bridge with Vokna, a statuesque and reserved Klingon woman.
"Yes, seems all the wrecks from the Herald attacks were towed into orbit of what's left of Praxis," Moruk commented. "Accursed moon's becoming one gigantic junkyard."
"A junkyard full of ships with reactor cores in various states, unspent munitions," added Karune.
"And we're going to fly through it?" Melea questioned in alarm. "What if something explodes?"
"I believe that is what we should be counting on, HaqwI'," said K'Vok before addressing the Klingon who showed up on the bridge with the Orion. "Bekk Vokna, step forward."
She did so with her hands behind her back, saying nothing. "Vokna, daughter of Lurqel, you have more than succeeded as Thaalt's interim replacement. While this will not become official under the notice reaches Lord Ka'rel, I nonetheless name you as permanent Qas'DevwI'. The lives of the crew are in your hands."
"I am honored, sir," she replied.
"Good luck with that," Melea said quietly. "You're going to need it the way things have been going for us lately."
"R'og, any sign of House Karag forces still in orbit?" K'Vok asked as he approached the weapons officer. While in exile on the very home planet of the Klingon Empire, the crew of the HoS'ro' had managed to keep abreast of some of the goings on in the conspiracy they found themselves neck deep in. Including, for instance, the fact that the day before the House of Karag's fleets and troops had left Qo'noS, even abandoning yoDjuH'a' chal'taD completely. Still, with some of the information Shishi relayed to him back in the First City, K'Vok wasn't convinced that they had vanished completely.
"None, sir," the Gorn answered. "Once we get clear of the system, we can risk tapping into the subspace networks to find out..."
"Agent Hsalo apprised me of some recent events. Such as Rhetok's forces launching an attack on Lady Tira. Publicly, she has been reported dead."
"And let me guess," prefaced K'Ulayr, "in reality this another ruse."
"In order to draw out the Karag we encountered," the captain explained, "or a possible second Karag."
"Two?" Karune asked in disbelief. K'Vok had trouble, as well; even what Shishi told him seemed dubious at best. But K'Vok also couldn't definitively prove his belief that "Karag" wasn't who he claimed to be, either.
"I'm getting a headache," said Moruk.
"We may be getting closer to exposing one of the Karags as a fraud," K'Vok said as he returned to his throne. "Agent Hsalo is working on that. In the mean time, we'll be..."
"Sir, something's happening at Praxis," R'og warned. "Some sort of accident with the debris removal."
"Confirmed," the science officer added. "Several core detonations. Debris from the moon is beginning to lose altitude. It could endanger the planet."
"Orbital Defense is scrambling to respond, Captain. This may be our chance."
"This isn't exactly a subtle way to slip out of the system," Melea commented.
"Hsalos are not subtle, HaqwI'," noted the captain. "Helm, takes us through the debris field, full impulse power."
"Aye, Captain," Lynnush replied and the HoS'ro' raced toward the stellar rubble that constituted what was left of Qo'noS' solitary moon. The captain could always tell when his helm officer was bracing for intense maneuvers by the way she leaned forward towards her station.
"Could we not go around Praxis all together, Captain?" asked the first officer.
"The gravitic sensor net and tachyon grid are thinnest around Praxis," K'Vok warned, referring to two methods that could detect the HoS'ro' even through the cloaking device. "Even with orbital defense responding to the emergency, leaving the system where the network is strongest would still alert patrolling ships."
"Besides," the gray Orion said with a mischievous grin, "this is more fun."
"They could still see us if Paleface smashes us into something," said the green Orion with disdain.
"I'd lace up my corset a little tighter if I were you, Princess. This is going to be a bumpy ride. R'og, let me know if we get too close to a gravitic sensor."
"Right," he replied, sounding more exasperated than nervous. R'og had not been himself since his brother Thaalt had been killed at yoDjuH'a' chal'taD. K'Vok supposed it was natural for a Gorn to react in this manner, but the captain knew little of Gorn emotional states.
Lynnush gunned the HoS'ro' towards a large chunk of the moon, jinking the ship to dodge two pieces of smaller debris. The bird of prey skimmed the surface of the larger portion, then pulled up sharply, spun a full 360 degrees, and leveled off back on course for the edge of the system. K'Vok was willing to attribute the full roll to a sense of flourish on the helm officer's part. She made sweeping left and right turns to keep away from more debris in their flight path.
"You do know this is a ship, not a shuttle, right?" protested Melea, who was now gripping a console tightly for support.
"Gravitic sensor to port!" shouted R'og.
"Got it!" Lynnush shouted as she banked the ship to starboard and based on what K'Vok saw on the screen, right in the path more smaller rocks. She rolled the ship again to allow the wings to deftly slip past the the present obstacle, but more apeared in front of the HoS'ro' necessitating a sudden dive.
"Are you trying to get us all killed?!" the HaqwI' barked loudly in a panic.
"Sensors indicate that the debris field shifted during the explosions, Captain!" Karune warned. "Not enough for our deflector!"
"I've got this!" Lynnush yelled before diving beneath another stray field of rocks. K'Vok could feel the sudden changes in the HoS'ro's course even through the inertial dampeners and he'd be lying if he claimed that his stomach wasn't now drifting several kellicams behind the ship.
"Look out!" Melea screamed just as two objects suddenly collided on the screen. Lynnush inverted (as far as the perspective of the crew was concerned) the ship and pulled the bow up (also relative) to avoid the impact and scattering of more obstacles in their flight path. "Fedraxal!"
"Just trust me!" The HoS'ro' dove and skimmed the surface of another massive section of Praxis and for the moment K'Vok thought this was perhaps the safest place to be since there wasn't a stray piece of rubble to be seen. Lynnush jabbed the controls angrily, saying, "We're almost through!"
"Gravitic sensor, dead ahead!" R'og roared.
"Captain!" warned K'Ulayr.
"Get us through, Helm!" he ordered.
"Aye sir!" she replied. The HoS'ro' rolled inverted yet again and pulled up sharply, then rolled again 180 degrees to allow narrow clearance between more drifting rocks. And that course correction necessitated yet another roll to port and an another sharp pull up to avoid hitting yet another major remnant of Praxis. Lynnush rolled the ship back ninety degrees to level the HoS'ro' with the galactic plain just as the screen cleared of all objects save for the stars. "I think we're out of it, Captain."
"Any sign we were detected?" asked the first officer.
"Negative, Commander," Karune said.
"Good," K'Vok concluded. "Helm, set course for the coordinates of tengchaH Krann. Warp 4."
"Wait a minute," Melea protested. "We just barely escaped and now you want to go to the place where everyone wants to kill us?"
"We need to confirm that the station exists and determine its purpose, HaqwI'," said K'Ulayr sternly.
"And I intend to see what we started through to the end," K'Vok said. "Helm, execute..."
|
|
|
Post by norcaler on Nov 23, 2015 7:01:06 GMT
The T'Ong Nebula
The HoS'ro's journey to the coordinates of tengchaH Krann had been slow, necessitated by the fact that traveling too fast at warp speeds would reveal the bird of prey even through the cloaking device. The journey through the densest portion of the nebula was even more agonizingly long because it required traveling at impulse power. In such experiences, K'Vok that the best way alleviate the wait was to hone his skills in the training hall on the main deck and it also provided the opportunity to spar with his new Qas'DevwI'. And to Vokna's credit, she was providing her captain a challenge.
They were both armed with their preferred personal weapon: the bat'leth. Whereas Vokna's was a more traditional blade, K'Vok's was one of the collapsible versions produced by Imperial Intelligence's black ops group House Pegh. To make the fight more balanced, the captain had disabled the electrokinetic generator he had used to great success on Zalvek back on Nimbus III, which felt like an eternity ago. Still, both blades were quite real and a single mistake could be fatal. He swung his blade in an overhand chop toward Vokna, both hands on the grips. Against an untrained opponent, such a move in personal combat was often enough to finish them in a bloody mess. But not against a trained warrior.
Vokna blocked the strike and then deflected his attack before punching him in the face with her free hand. He returned blow by striking her chin with the blunt end of his blade, staggering her backwards. K'Vok waved his sword in a defensive move, waiting to see if she’d strike back. Vokna did, slashing her short blade towards his. Their weapons clashed together loudly and locked; both combatants using all of their strength to break the deadlock. Their eyes locked and they both bore their teeth in predatory sneers as they struggled to gain advantage. Her blade slipped first, sliding along his until it impacted one of the inner tips of the bat’leth. He twisted hard enough to cause her to lose her grip on her sword; the weapon flying out of her hand and clanging loudly against the wall.
K'Vok lunged his blade forward, hoping to place the inner and outer tips of his bat’leth around her neck to force her to concede the match, but Vokna was not a woman who conceded anything easily. She quickly ducked under his move and while crouched swung a foot towards his back leg. The gambit worked, causing him to lose his footing and fall over backwards onto the training mat, dropping his advanced sword. She scrambled for the closest bat'leth, which happened to be his and he rolled over in the direction of where hers had landed. But just as he gripped the traditional weapon, he felt the air of the training room whip as Vokna attempted to land a downward strike while he was still on the mat.
"Captain!" K'Ulayr barked from the entrance to the training room, her disruptor pistol drawn and aimed at Vokna.
"Mev'yap!" K'Vok exclaimed to stop whatever his first officer was about to do. "Stand down, both of you!"
"Yes, Captain," Vokna said before pressing the control to retract the blades of the captain's weapon while K'Ulayr holstered her pistol. The security chief then reached down to offer a hand to help him up, adding, "Forgive me. I may have become too overzealous in our sparring, sir."
"I understand zeal even in practice, Qas'DevwI'," he said as Vokna pulled him to a standing position. He flipped her bat'leth over and offered it to her. "This is yours. What do you think of my weapon?"
"Capable, sir, but the lack of weight takes getting used to." K'Vok attached the retracted bat'leth over his shoulder while Vokna did the same with the larger sword. "Is this why you prefer lighter armor, sir?"
"I prefer to be as unencumbered as possible in battle. Mobility can be as an effective means of protection as armor." K'Vok wore a lighter version of the current Klingon Defense Force uniform officially dubbed "Bortasqu' Operative" because of the aforementioned preference determined by practical experience. His new security officer, on the other hand, preferred the "Guardian" uniform with additional protection to vital areas and critical joints.
"If you do not mind my saying, sir," Vokna prefaced, "but in my experience, no ammount of mobility can withstand a well placed attack."
"Nor any amount of armor against superior force like a disruptor, Qas'DevwI'", K'Ulayr said sternly. "Return to your post."
"Yes, Commander." Vokna bowed slightly before she exited the training room and once the doors closed, K'Vok sneared at his first officer.
"You disapprove?"
"With respect, Captain," she prefaced, "you are essentially a wanted criminal in the Empire. I am certain that your death would reward anyone a command of their own, even your Qas'DevwI'."
"Is that where we are now?" K'Vok said as he grabbed his bat'leth and extended its blades to inspect them. "Unable to trust our shipmates?"
"We are unable to trust a general and lord of a noble house, sir, and we seek to expose him as a fraud and traitor to the Empire. Many things are now possible."
"And what say you of the rest of the crew, Commander? How are their spirits?"
"Sir?" she asked.
"I am asking much of us all," he explained before grabbing an implement to sharpen his bat'leth. "We are investigating Karag, an ally of the House of Ka'rel but not a member. The HoS'ro' is to be captured if not destroyed if encountered by another Defense Force ship. Thaalt died to protect our escape from yoDjuH'a' chal'taD and we have spent over a month in hiding because of it. There are few fates for us all that do not involve sudden and dishonorable deaths. Yes, Commander, many would seek my death to further their standing in the Empire, but they would easily seek all of our deaths to accomplish the same goals. Do you feel there is one among us who would do so?"
K'Ulayr paused in her response, but did answer with a firm, "No sir. Perhaps I did overreact when I saw you and Vokna. But I am honor bound to protect you in the name of the house you may inherit should circumstances warrant."
K'Vok chuckled slightly as he retracted the blades of his bat'leth and placed the handle upon the holster at the back of his armor. "Your service to the House of Ka'rel honors me, K'Ulayr; after what you have been through lately, you have no reason to serve a noble house as loyal as you have. Much has changed since we left for the Delta Quadrant."
"Your dealings with House Pegh, Captain?" she asked.
"Before that..."
"How much before that, sir...?"
"Bridge to Captain," Karune interrupted over the intercom. "Now approaching the coordinates for tengchaH Krann."
K'Vok tapped his communicator and replied, "Acknowledged. Commander K'Ulayr and I are on our way."
It was a short walk through the main corridor to the bridge and the captain said as he took his throne, "Report."
"Sensors are still unable to read anything through the nebula's interference," said his science officer and the static dancing across the view screen illustrated that claim. "We many only get a clear reading of the station once we're on top of it."
"What about the cloaking device?" asked K'Vok.
"Appears to be functioning normally even within the nebula, though the station might see us cutting through the clouds."
"If it is there," Moruk remarked with skepticism. "I've been over the information we recovered on Qo'noS repeatedly; for the Houses of Karag and Krann to construct a starbase of that size in the middle of a nebula and amass such a large fleet? They'd have to be more wealthy than the grand nagus and have more material resources than Starfleet to do that."
"We know it is there," said R'og impatiently. "The information we got at Karag's castle says it is there!"
"Evidence that indicated a location and plans, but not when or if it's been completed," K'Ulayr noted.
"But their ships have disappeared! They must be close to implementing whatever they're planning!"
"Lieutenant!" K'Vok said sharply. He could understand R'og's desire to avenge his brother's death, but this was not the time or place to allow one's grief to become overwhelming. "Mind your station."
The Gorn sneered and hissed initially, but then lowered his head in supplication. "...Yes, Captain."
"Sir...sensor interference is starting to clear," Karune warned and as she said so the static on the main screen began to dissipate. Naturally, K'Vok leaned forward in his throne in an attempt to better see what the HoS'ro' was flying into. The interference on the screen cleared up a few seconds before the glowing red clouds of the T'Ong nebula parted, revealing as the computer at Karag's fortress indicated a star system that was akin to an island within a torrential sea. A single reddish orange sun stood out, with the faded clouds of the distant portions of the nebula visible at extreme range and a solitary gas giant close up. K'Vok found himself reminded of stories he had been told of Gre'thor.
"Readings?" asked K'Ulayr.
"Multiple warships on sensors, Commander, all clustered in orbit of an outer gas giant, though we're still getting interference due to our proximity to the nebula. All other scans...wait, reading a large metallic mass in orbit of that planet! Definitely an artificial structure."
"Helm, take us in closer," K'Vok ordered. "Is the cloaking device still functional?"
"Yes, Captain," answered R'og. "Recommend we do not conduct any further active scans of the area. They could lock onto us and destroy us with a disruptor lance from that base within seconds."
"It would be nice if our dreadnaughts could be armed with them," scoffed Moruk. "Nausicaan ships with disruptor 'javelins?' Why give such a powerful weapon to a client race?"
"The Bortasqu'-class has the disruptor autocannon, sir," Vokna stated.
The engineer snorted in contempt. "The Bortasqu'-class? Bah! An oversized and overengineered nightmare that's a waste of resources. That autocannon's only good if there's something in front of that beast, so then some engineer decided to spend even more funds developing a subspace snare to move a target right in front of it that cost even more billions of darseks. Even Gowron would question the sense in even building one of those accursed things, let alone one for every noble house. You ask me, Child, we were better off with Martok's philosophy. Small, fast, maneuverable, and numerous, just like our favorite ship here..."
"Husband, this really is not the time to..." Karune warned. "...Wait, entering visual range of the contact, Captain!"
"On screen!" barked K'Vok. There was a mere blip in the distance; about the only sign that it was an artificial satellite was that it was a bright shade of green. "Magnify."
Indeed there was a space station in orbit of the outer gas giant, and just ast the schematics indicated in Karag's war room, it was a Phase IV starbase. Surrounding it was a small fleet of warships, not enough to account for the information the HoS'ro's crew recovered, but everything they were now seeing proved that their evidence was accurate. But despite that, just what it the base and the fleet was for remained a mystery.
"...tengchaH Krann," said K'Ulayr in surprise. "We were right; this isn't another deception by Rhetok!"
"I read only fifteen ships around the station, Captain," Karune commented. "If there are more, then they are cloaked and we can't even get a trace of them without conducting an active sensor sweep."
"There is something odd about the station," her husband added. "Considering what we know of their resources, they could not have built a base of this size and I think I may know why."
"So tell us," K'Vok said impatiently.
"The mass readings are all wrong, Captain. It is far lighter than a starbase of that size should be."
"How?" asked K'Ulayr.
"If I had to speculate, Commander," prefaced the engineer, "I would say the interior of the station is largely unfinished. Probably just enough for the reactor spaces, weapons control, and the command center. It was a common practice for the Federation during the Dominion War with their ships at the beginning; even the San Francisco was launched and sent into Operation Return with most of his internal spaces empty. There is no way to know for sure without an active scan of the station's interior."
"Which would give us away, Captain," R'og warned. "And if the base's weapons systems are even partially online, it'd still be enough to destroy us in a single shot."
"We've come all this way to confirm the station is here," K'Vok remarked, "and we have to my satisfaction. Helm, plot a course out of the system and back through the nebula."
"Yes, Captain," Lynnush replied.
"With respect, Captain, we would be leaving without knowing why this station is here, sir," K'Ulayr noted. "And why it is in this present condition."
"We cannot afford to take further scans without being revealed," said K'Vok firmly. "We must report what we know to Lord Ka'rel. We know tengchaH Krann exists; that there are warships assigned to it. With what McBride and Decius have discovered, it should hopefully be enough to convince my uncle to make a move against..."
"Captain," Karune interrupted. "Reading an unusual distortion field to starboard. Sensors can't penetrate its periphery..."
"A cloaking device?"
"Possibly. Or some form of energy masking field akin to what the Honor Guard uses."
"Either way, the distortion effect is rather strong, Captain," commented Moruk. "Whatever they're hiding is large. Possibly even larger than the space station."
"Then change course for the distortion; three quarters impulse power," ordered K'Vok. Lynnush complied and the HoS'ro' made a sharp turn under cloak towards what appeared to be nothing in the distance. And the ship flew on towards what looked to be empty space for several minutes before the view screen flashed a bright blue and the ship shuddered. "What was that?"
"We've passed through a distortion field!" Karune exclaimed.
"Sir, look!" warned K'Ulayer. She gestured towards the screen and K'Vok quickly spotted more Klingon warships, hundreds of them. And they were all surrounding a gigantic white structure, which was clearly not Klingon in design.
"An Iconian gateway," the captain said in surprise. "So that's Rhetok's secret weapon..."
"Captain, we're intercepting communications traffic," R'og reported. "Putting it on speaker now..."
"Final checkout is complete, sir. Ready to initiate gateway sequence."
"Very well," said the voice of Rhetok. "Input coordinates for the primary target. This is a drill; repeat, this is a drill."
"Yes sir. Pylon 1 is encoding..."
"Emergency abort! Unidentified cloaked vessel has entered the perimeter of the energy field!"
"Then target its coordinates and destroy it!" Rhetok barked.
"Helm, get us out of here!" K'Vok roared. "NOW!"
"Yes sir!" Lynnush replied as she turned the ship sharply back around. Multiple warships started blanketing the area where the HoS'ro' was with heavy disruptor fire and torpedo spreads. The bird of prey narrowly avoided the massed barrage before streaking out of the cloaking filed surrounding the gateway.
"We've lost the comm signal, sir," R'og said.
"Reading increases in power from the station and the ships around it, Captain," stated Karune. "They're targeting our position."
"If you wouldn't mind getting us away from here, Helm?" asked K'Vok. Multiple munitions and energy discharges detonated around the HoS'ro' and somehow Lynnush managed to avoid them by putting the ship in a sharp and wide roll. The space behind the invisible ship continued to explode even as it entered the relative safety of the nebula.
"We're clear, sir," the helmswoman reported.
"Get us to the far side of the nebula, best possible speed."
"Aye, sir!"
"Sir, if they have control of an Iconian gateway, we must report this immediately," noted K'Ulayr.
"But to whom, Commander?" K'Vok replied with a question. "There's no telling who in the Empire Rhetok now controls and he could have a thousand more ships out there looking for us for all we know."
"Then who do we tell, sir?"
"The only people Rhetok cannot touch. Helm, set course for the Federation border, warp 4."
"That will take us several days, sir," Moruk noted, "maybe even weeks if we're to avoid Rhetok's ships."
"Then let us hope nothing in the Federation will change until we get there..."
|
|
|
Post by norcaler on Nov 26, 2015 23:06:36 GMT
U.S.S. San Francisco
Angela Gorman huried into the captain's mess, being late for the stated time of the beginning of Thanksgiving dinner, but with the San Francisco's current patrol station, she didn't want to leave her post until she absolutely had to. The ship was in the Tzenketh Sector near the Delta Cerasi system; days ago, Starbase 146 had been captured by forces of the Terran Empire from the alternate universe and Starfleet wanted the area monitored in case the Terrans started making forays from their new holding. The San Francisco had helped to evacuate a large number of civilian and non-essential personnel from the starbase and the captain was adamant that they'd assist in retaking the starbase. Gorman couldn't argue with that mentality, but it seemed to her the further the San Francisco was separated from the end of the Iconian War, the more the dream of exploring the galaxy was further out of reach.
She entered the mess hall to find McBride finishing up carving the turkey (replicated, of course). The entire senior staff plus helm officer Ensign Sun Pak were already in their seats; drinks poured and appropriate dietary substitutes for Chief Engineer T'Pren and Science Officer We'norra N'iss (due to the general preferance of Vulcans and Caitians to not consume animal flesh, replicated or not) and Counselor Rhyllan zh'Jalleen (due to the very different biology of Andorians versus most humanoids). She nodded quickly and just as quickly took her seat to the right of the captain, finding her wine glass a quarter full and her plate empty; since due to both her mother's adherence to Hindu practices and her father's vegetarianism that he aquired after his marriage, she'd also pass on the traditional main course. The point of this gathering and the North American holiday in general was to spend time in the company of friends and family, not consume a particular food item.
"Anythin' on the bridge worth talkin' about, Commander?" the captain asked as he sliced off a drumstick and set it on his plate and then grabbed several jalapeno peppers off of the vegetable tray for himself.
"No sir," she replied. "All long range scans are clear."
"So the Terrans still are keeping to Delta Cerasi," commented Turner as he started slicing up his portion of turkey; a breast by Gorman's estimation. She tried not to read into any of the symbolism. "I suppose that's good news."
"Captain Gardner told me that his crew left a number of obstacles for the Terrans before they all left the base," said the captain. "Hopefully that'll slow them down; buy the fleet enough time to retake 146 before they can get full control of the station restored."
"Forgive me, Captain," N'iss prefaced, "but I thought the point of this Earth holiday was to express what we are thankful for, not lament."
"Oh, I am definitely thankful for being here today rather than where I was on another Thanksgiving a few years ago, We'," the security chief quipped.
"I suppose you have me there..."
"I'm not sure I follow," said Ensign Pak hesitantly.
"Just so happened to be my first encounter with the SF," he explained, referring to the shortened name of the San Francisco. "Used to be a MACO; was attached to a platoon sent to the Solanae Sphere. Joint Command tasked us with seizing one of those aerial platforms from the Voth. We set spatial charges and blasted their command center, but they ended up shooting down our extraction ship so there we were trying to retreat to nowhere with a Voth platoon and a V-Rex chasing us. Until we got word that another ship was moving in to extract us and all we had to do was get to the edge of the platform. No small feet since we were booking it at least five kilometers."
"It could not have been more than two point six three, Commander, based on your position and the size of the floating platform," T'Pren noted. Leave it to a Vulcan to get technical. "As for why you had to 'book it,' the presence of Voth transporter jamming devices would make that readily apparent."
"Can I finish? Anyway, we got to the edge of the platform with the Voth at our heels but all we saw was nothing but clouds. Until..."
"Until the most beautiful sight y'all ever witnessed appeared before you," McBride said with a smirk. "A Galaxy-class starship ascendin' through the clouds and laying down phaser fire before y'all got beamed up."
"Must admit, it did freeze the Voth in place seeing the SF suddenly looming right over them," the security chief said with a smirk. "After that, I decided I might as well sign on for starship duty; at least then you know if one's backing you up."
"Correct me if I'm wrong," Gorman prefaced, "but didn't you yell at me for the SF not showing up sooner?"
"Heat of the moment, Commander..."
The senior staff shared a chuckle, but the trill of the ship's intercom squashed the mirth. "Bridge to Captain McBride."
"Go ahead," he replied.
"A Klingon bird-of-prey just de-cloaked off the port bow. It's the HoS'ro'."
"We're on our way." The captain set his napkin down on the dining room table and commented, "Well, so much for Thanksgiving, but it looks like Christmas has come early."
The senior officers all headed to the bridge and quickly settled into their posts, with Dr. Bett looking on from behind tactical. Turner reported, "We're being hailed."
"On screen," Gorman ordered before the captain could.
The B'rel-class ship vanished from the screen at K'Vok appeared, who said immediately, "Captain McBride."
"Commander," he commented. "Y'all do realize there's a standing detention order in the Klingon Empire for your ship?"
"Which was why I attempted to approach your Starbase 146 only to find it's been overrun by the Terrans."
"Yeah, that's a bit of a long story. Care to discuss it face to face?"
"Indeed. We both have much to discuss, Captain..."
***
"An Iconian gate?!" Nathan McBride expressed in surprise as K'Vok had been relaying his experiences over the past several months. Being denied peace, quiet, and turkey on this Thanksgiving was becoming a minor and almost forgotten grievance. "Where the hell did they get one of those?"
"My belief is that it was one of the gates the Elachi were trying to seize," the Klingon answered, looking uncomfortable in the chair across from McBride's ready room desk. They were alone, though the captain could only imagine the reaction of his senior officers upon hearing this latest development. "However, the Empire has no records of any gate at those coordinates."
"Wouldn't put it past someone like Rhetok to quietly delete any." McBride got up from behind his desk and paced in front of the ready room window, rubbing the back of his hair in agitation. Bad enough the situation with the Terrans and the loss of Starbase 146, but all this on top of it? "Should be simple enough to see if Starfleet or the Republic knows about it. Question is where is he plannin' on sendin' his forces? Straight to Qo'noS?"
"Doubtful. While Rhetok's forces are formidable, they would be slaughtered in a direct assualt on the homeworld, especially with J'mpok having the full support of the High Council. He is too cunning for that."
"If by cunnin' you mean damn annoyin', I agree with you, K'Vok," the captain said through clenched teeth. "And he just had to pick now to pull all this. Half of Starfleet's way out there, other half's here tryin' to contain the Terrans in the Badlands only for them to take the closest starbase. And from my read, the 146th's the fleet most suited to helpin' with Klingon problems. But now with their base occupied, they're not in a position to help. If only we knew about the Iconian gate weeks ago, that might have gotten Starfleet to accept Tira's request for help."
"She asked for Federation assistance?" K'Vok inquired.
"Yeah, she did, and she had the temerity to throw our initial lack of response about the Undine back in my face." McBride sat down in his chair again and let out a frustrated sigh. "I tried to tell her that the Federation would not get involved in an internal Klingon power struggle even though I know we probably should be doin' more than watchin' from the sidelines. So I took her request to Starfleet Command, ta every amiril that would listen and I got shot down every damn time. Probably just as well she died before I could relay their answer. Don't think I would've survived her reaction. So what the hell's left to do?"
"The only thing we can do, Captain. Rhetok depends on this false Karag to attract followers; expose the fraud and Rhetok's allies will turn on him and J'mpok will be more than willing to throw the full power of the Empire and the High Council behind it."
"Yeah, but how?" asked the human. "You had Decius go to Adigeon Prime; best he found was a Klingon of Karag's height and build who went there to be treated for physical and radiation injuries; cosmetic surgery and genetic resequencin' under an alias. Nothin' we can pin on Rhetok directly."
"But if this was the Karag I saw, then we would have something against him, McBride," K'Vok countered while leaning forward in his chair. "No Klingon warrior would suffer the shame of such extensive injuries in battle, let alone be healed of them by questionable medical practicioners. They would rather die than receive the treatment the Adigeons provided. If that treatment was for Karag, then that is not him!"
"Is that the best you have?" McBride asked tersely. "Things Klingon warriors would or would not do? That might be all well and fine for your people, but if y'all want the Federation and the Republic to get involved, you're gonna need more than this warrior's code of yours."
"I have a contact in Imperial Intelligence, the one I met prior to leaving the homeworld, Captain. She has access now to their database of anyone of Karag's size who went missing around the time of his alleged surgery on Adigeon Prime. I would suggest seeking her out; she is known to make stops at Deep Space 9."
"Not like there's many other places for the SF to stop in the Alpha Quadrant these days. And what exactly are y'all gonna be doin'?"
K'Vok stood up, pacing for a moment on the other side of the desk. He turned and said firmly, "I will inform Lord Ka'rel of my findings. While his forces are under orders to arrest me, he remains our only chance of getting the full support of a Klingon house against Rhetok..."
"Wait, I seem to be recallin' a bulletin I saw about Ka'rel," the San Francisco's captain said before sliding back behind his desk and turning on his monitor. "Yeah, Starfleet reported that your uncle's deployed forces on the border near the Jarkonis system. Seems he's paranoid the Terrans might try to seize it."
There was a word for K'Vok's expression that McBride doubted had ever been used for a Klingon: flabergasted. He let out a surprised laugh and commented, "...My uncle should not be paranoid about the Terrans seizing Jarkonis."
"It is a tad far from 146."
"You asked me, Captain, where I believed Rhetok would strike next," K'Vok continued, "And I belive Uncle Ka'rel has already deduced it! The House of Krann's greatest defeat was at Jarkonis; their family scattered, dishonored. With their Iconian gateway, they could send every under their command to Jarkonis and seize the planet before anyone knew what happened! They would be powerless to stop them."
"And with the Terrans, the rest of us would be too busy to be able to stop him before he seizes control," added McBride. "He waltzs in and takes the planet..."
"And J'mpok and the High Council would not be able to do anything to stop him." The Klingon stepped to the model of the Sovereign-class starship Endurance McBride was born upon and ran a finger over the saucer section. "After the signing of the Organian Treaty, Jarkonis became the Empire's desired forward base in a full invasion of the Federation. If Rhetok's forces control it, he will have done something many have tried to do but failed. The chancellor would not dare to order him to relinquish Jarkonis, for that would be a sign of weakness and open to challenge. And if he does not, Rhetok would have more than enough reason to have his Karag challenge J'mpok for leadership of the Empire because he was not strong enough to take Jarkonis on his own."
"Win-win deal, as far as he's concerned," the human said with a tired sigh. "My understandin' of the situation on Jarkonis is that while they're not talkin' to us anymore because we rejected their application for Federation membership, they're only tradin' with the Empire. And there's a sizable number of them who plain don't like Klingons. Rhetok and his forces could try to seize the planet, but what makes y'all think it'll be as simple as that?"
"It would not. Many Jarkoni still believe that Rasi Korax is their god and he convinced them that the Empire is their enemy. It may be a simple matter to invade Jarkonis, but to hold it? Even Rhetok could not do that. But the very act of taking it would make him and his 'Karag' a potent force within the Empire."
"Makes one think he's got somthin' else up his sleeve if Jarkonis is his target. More Iconian tech besides the gate?"
"It does not matter if we move quickly," K'Vok noted before turning to the door. "Find out who that other Karag really is. With proof and my uncle's support, we can go to the High Council and publicly expose this fraud once and for all."
"And if we're not fast enough, that fraud's gonna be the most powerful man in the Klingon Empire," McBride noted. "Plus there's another wild card to consider: S'Taev and the 'real' Karag."
"They have been fighting this conspiracy longer than we have. If we continue this, surely our paths will cross again."
"That's assumin' the Federation can do anythin' more about it. If we can also prove Rhetok's target is Jarkonis, that might motivate some action on our part. I'll ask about gettin' the SF rotated off the patrol routes so I can meet with this contact of yours. And see about bringin' Decius in the loop."
"Where has he been?" asked K'Vok.
"Defendin' Vauthil Station from the Terrans."
"They attacked it again...?"
McBride let out a weak chuckle. "Y'all been really out of the loop for a while..."
|
|
|
Post by norcaler on Dec 1, 2015 7:40:50 GMT
The T'Ong Nebula
Everything had proceeded as Rhetok had foreseen to this point. Or at least as best as he could and what hadn't broken in favor of him. The end of the war with the Iconians and thus the end of their campaign to exterminate all life in the galaxy. The Terran invasion from the alternate universe that not only preoccupied allied forces in the Badlands but resulted in taking the most potent wild card off the table, namely the 146th Fleet in the loss of their starbase. This also had the effect of occupying the attentions of McBride of the Federation and Decius of the Romulan Republic; Tira Vero was now dead, leaving "Karag" available for a new and advantageous marriage. They were too late as was K'Vok, who despite Rhetok's belief somehow defied a certain death. The next phase of the operation was about to begin and there was nothing any of them could do now to stop it.
"Prepare for transmission," he ordered on the flag bridge of the GhIqtal. Karag was seated on the command throne in full dress uniform, looking towards the screen. "Begin!"
"Warriors of the Klingon Empire," Karag addressed over all subspace channels. "I am Karag, general rank, Klingon Defense Forces, and lord of the House of Karag. For too long the Empire has been under the leadership of a dishonorable man; a man who had Chancellor Martok murdered, who conspired with Imperial Romulans at Deep Space 9 three turns ago, whose Romulan allies tried to have me killed in the Delta Quadrant, and who is now attempting to subvert our alliance with the Federation by seizing Jarkonis II not by force of arms but through trickery."
Rhetok stood off to the side of the main view screen, out of sight of those Karag addressed but within Karag's field of view. If any second he suspected that Karag would go off script, it'd be the end of him. "I know these are grand claims and difficult to believe, but I have evidence to support the most heinous of these charges. Behold, my fellow Klingons, an extract from the computer core of the I.R.W. Valdore, flagship of the hated General Tomalar from those turns ago..."
Nodding to one of the flag bridge crew, Rhetok smirked as the recording played. While laced with static, anyone could plainly tell that on the right of the split screen looked to be J'mpok and on the left the late and reviled Tomalar. It had taken much effort for him to produce this recording and he was certain that it would incense the Klingon heart as much as Tomalar's arrival at Deep Space 9 all those turns ago.
"...Klivam veruul!" Tomalar cursed. "Karag had thousands of your Klingon dead beamed over to the Promenade! Dead at their own hands! The whole station reeks from those foul corpses. This is your fault, Chancellor!"
"Calm yourself, General," J'mpok replied evenly. "We both know that the soldiers under and K'reb and Karag's command would not openly accept this arrangement. Better that those who would oppose us are now dead rather than in a position to rebel."
"And what of their commanders? You don't expect me to keep serving alongside them when they could easily..."
"Both I and your Tal Shiar expect you to, General. Deep Space 9 is too important to both empires to be in the hands of fools like K'reb and Karag; Spoon and Williams. Stick to the plan. If the Borg in the Defera Sector become problematic or the Dominion tries another incursion, you are to seize the station in the greater interest of the qua..."
Both sides of the screen turned to complete static and the audio was completely obscured. Rhetok had to admit the the cutoff in the recording perhaps came at a too convenient time, but the shot had been fired. He motioned sharply for Karag to continue.
"That was all that we were able to recover," Karag said, "but rest assured it is authentic. As of now, my forces are uploading copies of this recording to the subspace networks along with the telemetry of the I.K.S. Tong Vey, my former flagship during the treachery of the Delta Quadrant. The leader of the Klingon Empire is a traitor to the Klingon people; a pawn of the Tal Shiar. I call upon all warriors to pledge themselves to my banner, to cast out the chancellor and his High Council and replace them with honorable men. This transmission ends...now."
"Channel closed, my lord," reported one of the flag bridge's officers.
"Was it traceable?" asked Rhetok.
"I believe so, Captain, though the number of relays it was sent through should make anyone think we were trying to conceal the transmission point."
"Good. Prepare to activate the gate and deploy the fleet. We'll initiate Phase 3 once the gateway is open."
"And then the Empire is ours," remarked Karag with a grin.
"There is much still to prepare for, my lord," Rhetok said for the sake of the bridge crew. "Return to your chambers to rest. I'll be in the brig with the prisoner."
"Of course. Don't be too rough with the old man, Rhetok. He is after all a friend of sorts." Rhetok sneered, growing tired of Karag's stinging improvisational skills. If this was not the flag bridge, he'd be inclined to "teach" him proper discipline. Even if he could, Rhetok had more pressing matters thanks to what his forces brought to him just a few hours ago.
The brig was deep within the bowels of the GhIqtal and was hardly used aboard Klingon warships as prisoners were seldom taken, but exceptions had been known to be made such as this time. Only one cell was occupied and defended by members of Rhetok's personal Honor Guard detail. The prisoner was still in the gray Republic uniform he had been captured in with a tear and burn here and there, strung up by a tether attached to the ceiling that didn't allow his feet to touch the floor and put his entire weight on his arms, thus weakening him. The aged Romulan glanced up at the new arrival and glared angrily, saying with spite, "Rhetok."
"S'Taev; glad we've gotten that out of the way," he replied casually before looking to his soldiers. "Leave us."
"Afraid your soldiers might overhear something, Rhetok?" the Romulan asked as the guards departed. "Like how their leader is a fraud."
"I will only ask this once, S'Taev: where is the genetic sample you took?"
"Ah, so you are afraid," the Romulan said with a weak smirk. "You wouldn't ask that question if you were so sure your fraudulent Karag would pass the muster."
"Everything has proceeded according to my design, Commander," Rhetok said smugly. "Right up to your capture. You've followed the path I laid out for you effectively; almost everything you have seen has been because I allowed it!"
"Except for what I found on Adigeon Prime. The genetic sample of the man you had those doctors on Adigeon Prime turn into Karag. The proof that your 'lord' is a fraud."
The Klingon smirked. "And yet here you are in my cell. The crew of your ship dead and that's the rather interesting thing about your warbirds, Commander; a singularity core breach leaves little debris behind. It could be years before anyone stumbles across what little wreckage there is left of the S'anra. Named for your wife, as I understand. But I digress; your entire crew is dead because you couldn't keep out of Klingon affairs, and I know you didn't go to the Cursa system without a contingency plan. The warriors you recovered off of the Tong Vey weren't among the casualties. You sent them and what you stole from the Adigeons elsewhere as a fail safe against my trap, so I ask one more time: where is it?"
"Then I guess you will never know," S'Taev said smugly. "My crew is dead because they knew what it'd take to stop you, that sometimes sacrifices need to be made, especially to preserve an alliance in good faith. The information you seek will ultimately make its way into the hands of your enemies; far more honorable men than you, Rhetok."
"A Romulan lecturing a Klingon about honor; how amusing," Rhetok commented before turning away and flaring his cape dramatically. "Very well. If you will not tell me what I wish to know, then I'm sure I know of a way to get it out of you. Guards!" The armored troops reentered the brig. "Take the prisoner to the medical wing. Strap him into the mind sifter and leave him in there until every secret he possesses is extracted."
"Yes, Captain." There was only one fate for someone subjected to the Klingon mind scanner (or ripper to be more accurate); a device that had been banned for generations in the Empire but one that Rhetok was not above using in this instance even if it would leave the Romulan a vegetable. The guards lowered the force field and proceeded to extract S'Taev from the ceiling mounted restraint. Lacking any apparent strength in his legs, S'Taev allowed himself to be dragged out on the arm of one of the guards though he quickly impressed Rhetok in his willingness to put up a struggle to survive.
S'Taev grabbed the disruptor pistol from the belt of the guard carrying him and immediately shot the one who lowered the force field, disintegrating him instantly. Falling to the floor, the Romulan fired again at the captor who had carried him in the dead center of his chest, also reducing him to nothingness in the most painful fashion possible. But before S'Taev could aim a third shot at the only other Klingon in the brig, Rhetok was already on top of him, kicking the pistol out of his hand and placing the sharp edge of his Honor Guard mek'leth at S'Taev's throat.
"Not bad, for an old man," he scoffed. "I suppose I'll have to disappoint Lord Karag again by ending your miserable existence."
"The real Lord Karag will have your head for this!" hissed S'Taev.
"Oh really? I should thank you; getting that out of you was far less trouble than seeing if the mind sifter worked on a Romulan. But for now, it is I who will have your head..." Rhetok raised his sword and brought it down in a swift manner; S'Taev head was cleanly separated from his neck. He didn't have to kill him; perhaps there was a chance the mind scanner would reveal more information, but S'Taev had revealed plenty, both from what he admitted and implied. The real Karag was alive and in possession of the true DNA of his doppelganger. And that S'Taev tr'Dharvanek just sacrificed himself as if he were a piece on a human chess board...
|
|
|
Post by norcaler on Dec 4, 2015 1:55:16 GMT
Sherman System
"Approaching Deep Space K-7, Captain," reported Ensign Pak as she brought the San Francisco closer to the ancient space station that bordered the territory of the Klingon Empire. Nathan McBride might have appreciated the sight of such a well preserved piece of Federation history if he wasn't preoccupied with why he had been summoned here. Starfleet was having a high level meeting concerning recent events in the Klingon Empire and considering the San Francisco's involvement up to this point, the captain had been ordered to attend. It was either that or attend a similar briefing about the Terran capture of Starbase 146 at Deep Space 9, so either way his evening was going to involve such gatherings, but at least with the other briefing, he'd at least be familiar with the attendees.
"Standard parking orbit over the station, Ensign," ordered Commander Gorman, who glanced at her captain just as McBride was fidgeting with the collar of his longer jacket. While not as formal as a dress uniform and had an identical color scheme to his regular duty uniform, it had a higher and thicker collar that irritated him to no end. After Pak acknowledged the command, Gorman added, "Nervous, sir?"
"Oh, I figure it's like lecturing cadets," he replied lightly with a smirk. "Only they can tell ya off when you're wrong."
"Message coming in from K-7, Captain," said Tactical Officer Turner. "They're expecting you in the station commander's office."
"Wonderful; might as well get this outta the way. Commander Gorman, the ship's yours. Commander Turner, have transporter room two stand by to beam me over."
"Aye sir."
"Good luck, sir," the first officer added. He merely nodded in response before taking the aft turbolift down to his preferred transporter room. Within a few short minutes, McBride was aboard K-7 and despite its 23rd Century exterior, inside it was the drab and all business style of the 25th Century. Having served on a 24th Century ship like the San Francisco as both first officer and captain, it made McBride lament the lack the flourish and style of modern starships and installations.
"Captain McBride?" asked a young red-headed woman who'd be mistaken for human if not for the spikes on her forehead. "Naomi Wildman, station commander. They're waiting for you in my office."
"I hope the admirals aren't givin' y'all too much trouble, Commander," he commented as he stepped off the transporter pad. There was a clearly marked door directly across from him that said it was a turbolift to Wildman's office.
"It's not just the admirals, sir. The deputy DSI and deputy FSA are in there too." Respectfully, she was referring to the number two director at Starfleet Intelligence and the direct subordinate of the Federation Security Adviser, who's boss reported directly to President Okeg. That clearly indicated to McBride that the events he'd been a distant witness of were now being taken seriously by the highers up. He tried not to take the desire to keep the Federation at arms length from the activities in Klingon space weeks ago as a personal insult, emphasis on tried. Wildman held up a PADD, adding, "Latest updates from inside Klingon space. The admirals are expecting you to brief them on it."
"Nothin' like a last minute change to the show to throw me off my game," he remarked before taking the PADD and looking it over with a raised right eyebrow. "The Kravokh, the Chin'toka, the Qam'Chee, the Chargh. J'mpok's sortied his whole damn fleet. He's not takin' Karag lightly. Anythin' else I should know?"
"That's it as far as I know, sir," Wildman answered. While McBride preferred to be referred to as captain as the 100 year old grandfather who raised him was more of a sir than he'd ever be, he didn't have the time or inclination to correct her. "Visual aids are already set up as your first officer indicated. Good luck in there."
"You're not attendin'?"
The station commander smirked. "My godmother always says the best place to be when so many admirals and politicians are in one place is to be someplace else."
"Right," McBride commented absently. He approached the turbolift to K-7's command section only to be stopped by a pair of security guards. Given Wildman's revelation that two deputys of two of the most important people in the Federation were on board the station, the heightened screening was understandable. He took his combadge off of his jacket and held it up against a scanner and was then scanned by not one but two tricorders. A quantum signature scan, the captain would wager, in order to ensure he wasn't his counterpart from the mirror universe, whoever that Nathan McBride happened to be.
He was allowed to pass through and enter the turbolift. McBride then arrived in the commander's office where he immediately took note of the number of admiral uniforms in the room. Judging by the color of their trim alone, the majority were vice admiral or lower in silver; only two in gold and neither of them five stars. And only one of them had the black stripe instead of red below the collar bone indicating a position of Starfleet Intelligence and only one was dressed in civilian attire; the Deputy Federation Security Adviser, who happened to be an Andorian, someone who might have a better grasp on the Klingon mindset than most others if McBride wasn't jumping to a sudden conclusion.
"Ah, Captain McBride," said the S.I. admiral while standing at a podium set up at the head of the conference table. "Please be seated so we can get started." The assembled admiralty took whatever free chairs there were around the conference table, leaving McBride to stand alone in a corner away from the main group. "The last 72 hours have seen a troubling level of activity from the Klingon Empire. The leader of the House of Karag has accused Chancellor J'mpok of conspiring with the Tal Shiar on numerous occasions, even supplying proof of his collaborating with General Tomalar. As of now, forces loyal to Governor Ka'rel have taken up station on our border proximate to the Jarkonis system while the chancellor's forces are mobilizing at Qo'noS and Ty'Go'Kor. While the majority of the Klingon Empire hasn't committed to either side in this conflict, that could change at a moment's notice or with another surprise revelation from Karag. For background, let me turn this over to Captain McBride of the U.S.S. San Francisco."
"Thank you, Amiril," he replied before assuming the admiral's position at the podium. He'd rehearsed what he had intended to say so often over the last two days that he had been catching himself doing it in the sonic shower unconsciously and now he felt he might as well have been as naked as he was this morning with the number of important eyeballs now gawking at him. And a small part of him found nudity preferable to the choker around his neck. "In August of this year while in transit to Starbase 146, the San Francisco encountered a battle between a Klingon bird-of-prey and a Romulan light warbird along the Tzenkethi border, far removed from either of their territories. The Klingon ship bore the markin's of the House of Karag, believed up to that point to be missin' in the Delta Quadrant while huntin' for Vaudwaar stragglers in the Delta Quadrant 'round about nine or ten months prior. With Starfleet Command's permission, the San Francisco began investigatin' this and everythin' we've found has led to what's now happenin' in Klingon space.
"What we've discovered is that since Karag' apparent disappearance, members of the former Klingon House of Krann have moved in and taken over the House of Karag, spearheaded by Rhetok, nephew of the late General Krann and a member of the Honor Guard. In cooperation with Commander K'Vok of the Klingon Defense Force and Commander Decius tr'Merek of the Romulan Republic Navy, we've learned that the man who appeared on subspace broadcasts 72 hours ago purportin' to be Karag is in all liklihood an impostor; a figurehead of Rhetok surgically and genetically altered to pass as the real Karag."
"And you believe this how, Captain?" asked one admiral, only a two star but that still was a few more pips over McBride's collar.
"Commander Decius, sir, paid a visit to Adigeon Prime," he explained calmly, "just after K'Vok broke into the computer network at Karag's castle on Qo'noS. Their records indicated Karag was on that planet not long after he was declared dead in the Delta. Decius' people discovered that there was a Klingon there around the same time under a common Klingon name and who wore heavy bandages both in and out of the clinic from the security records. Futhermore, Klingon Imperial Intelligence ran an additional list of names of Klingons matchin' Karag's height, age, and build who went missin' 'round the same time he did. Based on their information, I believe the man in that footage from the other day is K'Jal; a Klingon actor who lost his job after an incident on the set of a production of Hamlet, was forced to live in the slums of the First City, and who's records ceased after the last Imperial Census."
"That is a bit much for us to believe, Captain," asked the deputy FSA. "Do you have any other proof to support your claims?"
"No sir, not proof, but an informed opinion. Prior to her death, I was in contact with Karag's wife: Tira Vero. So was Decius and an agent of I.I. in her employ. They believe a Klingon in heavy black armor travellin' in the company of Commander S'Taev tr'Dharvanek of the Republic Navy, who was also the commander of the Romulan contingent that bought it in the Delta Quadrant, is the real Karag. K'Vok is also of the opinion that the Karag he met on Qo'noS isn't the same man he knows and who's supposed to be allied with his uncle, Ka'rel. I know it ain't much, sir, but it should be noted that said wife, the one person who'd know Karag best, was killed recently close to the Klingon base near Deferi territory. The rest y'all know, sirs; this Karag, whoever he is, just implicated Chancellor J'mpok as a Tal Shiar co-conspirator during the incident at Deep Space 9 three years ago and J'mpok's gettin' ready to roll up on him."
"Have we been able to verify the authenticity of the recording?"
"No sir, not without the original file," explained the SI admiral, "though it is possible Karag got his hands on the computer core of Tomalar's flagship during the clean-up at DS9. And there's more..."
"But of course there is..."
"K'Vok found coordinates for a space station called tengchaH Krann deep within the T'Ong Nebula," McBride explained. "Upon investigatin' these coordinates he did find a Klingon starbase...and an Iconian gateway."
"What?" asked another admiral in surprise.
"We've verified the gateway," the deputy DSI remarked. "It was one of the gates the Elachi were trying to reactivate but the allies shut down. Seems the location of this gateway was expunged from Klingon records, possibly by Karag. The one bit of good news from Commander K'Vok is that the gate is not yet fully operational, so we still have time."
"And you believe you know where Karag will be sending his ships through the gate?" asked yet another admiral; it was getting hard for McBride to keep track.
"I believe there is only one logical conclusion, sir," he replied, placing all his latinum on a particular number on the proverbial dabo wheel. "Jarkonis II."
"Oh come on. Karag's only trying to take over the Empire; even if he is a fake, he has to be smart enough to know that taking Jarkonis will lead to Federation intervention."
"I'm of the mind that he thinks it won't, sir. If Karag's indeed a fake and I'm inclined to believe he is, then his strings are bein' pulled by Rhetok, an officer we know who fancies himself as the first Klingon thought admiral in generations. Everythin' he's done to this point has been to guide all the players towards an outcome favorable to him. Now he's just done called J'mpok a traitor, same man who killed Martok behind closed doors. That's liable to spark a lot of dissent in the Empire, whether any of these claims are true or not. So then Rhetok uses his gate and puts a task force right over Jarkonis at the worst possible time. When the Jarkoni don't want anythin' to do with us because we rejected their application for membership and when thanks to the Terrans our ability to intervene is severely curtailed."
"And he in the midsts of a Klingon civil war seizes the one planet the Empire's always coveted as a launching point into Federation space," added the admiral from Starfleet Intelligence. "Something few Klingons have done before successfully. Something that makes Karag a force to be reckoned with in the Empire and a viable candidate to replace J'mpok as chancellor. If he succeeds, he'll be chancellor and with enough leverage at the bargaining table to demand every border sector lest he starts another war with us."
"This is ludicrous!" said the Tellarite admiral. "How can you trust the information that K'Vok is giving you is genuine? His uncle is the one massing ships near Jarkonis. And considering the House of Ka'rel's ties to the House of Karag, it's more than likely they're both conspiring to seize the planet! They may be using both this civil conflict and the Terran invasion as a cover for their real aims."
"I trust K'Vok, sir," McBride replied.
"And you're just a captain of an exploration cruiser, not an intelligence operative and not even an analyst. What can you possibly know...?"
The captain of the San Francisco's temper finally boiled over. "I know K'Vok, sir, and I've been involved in this situation since the moment one or two admirals in this room decided to transfer my ship to the Alpha Quadrant! I've been neck deep in this for months and I trust my source. If K'Vok says Rhetok and Karag are after Jarkonis, then you can damn well belive that's where they're..."
"I'm not convinced as of yet," said the Andorian deputy FSA. "And even if I was I'd certainly need more before I could advise the president on the next course of action. Do you have any other proof that Karag has somehow been replaced, Captain?"
"Not yet sir," he replied, "but I have reason to believe the Adigeons kept an original sample of K'Jal's genetic structure in case they needed to reverse the procedure, but unfortunately it's likely been stolen by S'Taev when he visited there before Decius could."
"Exposing Karag as a fraud could end all this quickly," noted deputy DSI. "The only reason Rhetok would have gone to such lengths was to use Karag's name and house to rally support is because he needs an established name and someone with a legitimate beef against the High Council. Burn Karag as just a disgraced actor and his followers would turn on him."
"Admiral Baldwin," the Zakdorn prefaced, "do you know where J'mpok's forces are headed?"
"Not yet exactly, sir, but it seems the T'Ong Nebula's their likeliest destination. We traced Karag's transmission from three days ago to coordinates that match the ones Captain McBride provided. I'll request from our counterparts in the KDF a sharing of information on this, possibly even telemetry from the raid."
"And what's the closest asset we have to Jarkonis?"
"The Zife's battle group," answered a Rigelian admiral who had to this point remained silent. "I've ordered Admiral Thompson to monitor the situation on the border. So far, thankfully, both he and Ka'rel's forces have been giving each other a wide berth."
"Very well, I think I have enough to brief the president on. Thank you all for your time." Everyone started to disperse at the Andorian's command, but he quickly made strides toward McBride, saying, "Captain, a moment?"
"Yes sir?" he asked.
Once everyone else was gone, he then continued with, "You came down awful hard on Admiral Grahl."
"That wasn't my intention, sir."
"Of course it was," he said with a smirk. "You've been dealing with this for months, he's only been dealing with it for minutes and he smacked you down. He had it coming, but don't tell him I said that."
"Of course, sir. May I ask what's next?"
"Far be it for me to speak for President Okeg before he's made up his mind, but in all likelihood he'll conclude that once again this is an internal matter of the Klingon Empire and none of our business to intercede in, even if Jarkonis is under threat of invasion."
"So, do nothin'," McBride concluded with a frown. "Let the Empire fall into chaos, maybe let them take the first steppin' stone on the prime invasion path into Federation space. And regardless of who wins, they'll be lookin' across the border at us, who just stood by and watched it all happen without offerin' to even lift a finger."
"Try to see this from our position, Captain," the deputy FSA explained calmly. "Take our willingness or legal ability to intercede off the table for a moment; there's the simple fact that we can't, not like the last couple of times a Klingon warlord went rogue and went after Jarkonis. We're still recovering from the war, what assets we have that aren't cleaning up the mess the Tholians made are tied up in keeping the Terrans contained and as you well now we haven't been entirely successful with that, either. Dragging the entire Federation into a Klingon civil war, even one that doesn't stay within their borders, is just something we can't do right now."
The Starfleet officer thought he caught an implication in the Andorians' words. "But...?"
"When I was a junior officer aboard the Excalibur, we got orders to join a fleet headed to the Klingon-Romulan border during the last Klingon civil war. A blockade to prevent any Romulan ships from resupplying the rebel forces. Seemed somewhat ludicrous at the time; getting involved in Klingon politics while we were still recovering after Wolf 359 and a single mistake could have dragged us into a full military engagement. But, despite a few hiccups, the blockade was a success."
The politician began to pace with his hands behind his back, adding, "As I said, direct intervention is not an option, but something more subtle, less man power intensive and less likely to get us involved in a shooting war is in order. Karag's accusation that J'mpok conspired with the Romulans to have a Tal Shiar fleet stationed at Deep Space 9 under the guise of the Imperial Star Navy definitely is troubling, whether or not it's true. As for Jarkonis, well...I'd be hard pressed to find a Klingon who wouldn't want to take that giant ball of dirt. I will advise President Okeg that the situation in the Klingon Empire does warrant our attention. And involvement."
Finally, for perhaps the first time in a situation involving this crisis, McBride smirked. "Thank you, sir."
"Now, the question remains what exactly we can do with what we have," the Andorian explained before resting against the side of the conference table. "A single carrier battle group isn't enough to hold off the forces Karag's commanding if their intention is to take Jarkonis and even if we could divert more resources, they could use that gateway of theirs to instantly send reinforcements. Or call for help from Ka'rel depending on which side he's on."
"It's like Admiral Baldwin and I said, sir," the captain noted. "Quickest way to put an end to all this is to expose Karag as an impostor, either with the genetic material taken from Adigeon Prime or perhaps finding the real one. Unfortunately if the sample exists, it's probably in S'Taev and the perhaps real Karag's hands anyway. After Tira was killed, they probably went to ground to avoid gettin' caught by Rhetok. But, they've had a bit more time to unravel Rhetok's plan, even if he was tryin' to guide them to dead ends."
"Meaning?"
"Well, Karag was the one who killed Krann when he tried to claim Jarkonis. Maybe he's already figured out Rhetok's doin' and is just waitin' to confront him."
"All these multiple Karags are starting to give me a headache," the Andorian noted. "So what of Ka'rel? As of now his are the only forces deployed near Jarkonis."
"K'Vok should be reachin' his uncle's headquarters in the next few days," McBride said, knowing full well that the HoS'ro' was not as fast as his San Francisco and slowed all the more by having to travel at warp with the cloaking device on. "It's been suggested that we ought to open a direct dialogue with him."
"Then do so, Captain. Pending approval, I believe you are best suited to take the lead in this; report directly to Admiral Thompson on the Zife. Head to Archanis and speak with Ka'rel. If need be, then head to Jarkonis hopefully before Rhetok makes his move. If we're lucky, which I doubt we are, J'mpok's task force will hit the T'Ong Nebula before they're ready to deploy."
"And if we're really not lucky, sir?"
"Then whoever ends up winning in the end will have the Federation by the...well, whatever you humans call them," he answered before extending a hand to McBride. "Nevertheless, good luck, Captain."
"Thank you, sir," he answered before shaking the Andorian's hand. Nathan McBride had went into this meeting merely as a consultant, now he was Starfleet's point man, perhaps the biggest task in his career, let alone as captain of the San Francisco. He tugged at his jacket before leaving, only now noticing that the collar wasn't bothering him anymore, probably because there was something more significant now hanging around his neck...
|
|
|
Post by norcaler on Dec 7, 2015 7:03:40 GMT
Governor's Palace - Archanis IV
K'Vok's quarters in his uncle's headquarters were far more spacious than he was used to on the HoS'ro'. And yet it still felt somewhat like a prison. Upon arriving in orbit of Archanis, he had surrendered himself to Ka'rel's guards and demanded an audience. And they had taken K'Vok to Ka'rel and they had their reunion, with K'Vok explaining everything he knew about Rhetok's treachery to his uncle. He did not know what to expect upon their meeting; he had somewhat anticipated his predicament to draw his ire, as so many of his indiscretions had in the past. Instead, Ka'rel was warm and welcoming to him; relieved to see his nephew alive and eager to thwart the plans of the false Karag. If only all of his familial interactions in his life had been so positive...
"You, you can't even hold a blade properly!" his father K'Dak had once roared at him as a child during training with a bat'leth. "No, no, no! The sword must be made a part of your arm, you're gripping it like a toy! This is your mother's fault! If she had been any semblance of a Klingon, she'd have abandoned you anyway if she saw you like this!"
B'rena, K'Vok's mother, had left him as a child after her parents were killed by Nero after Romulus was destroyed and after her brother Ka'rel assumed control of their house. K'Dak had married into the family and for whatever reason it had been decided that his children would be members of B'rena's house and not his. K'Vok had never been privy to the arrangement; not long after B'rena's defection to the Federation, K'Dak had also left, leaving Ka'rel to raise him as his own son. A relationship at times K'Vok resented; not for what Ka'rel did but what K'Dak did not do. A relationship taken for granted until today, when rather than scold K'Vok Ka'rel said something that neither of his parents had ever told him. In essence, that he had done well; that he acted like a Klingon. Words he never heard his father say. Instead the words that constantly rang in the ears of K'Vok since a boy uttered by his father had been:
"You are an embarrassment."
K'Ulayr had almost forced K'Vok to admit to what had changed his behavior back when she asked if it had been the HoS'ro's dealings with House Pegh and he had been right when he said it had come before. Almost exactly a turn ago, the HoS'ro' had been reassigned to Operation Delta Rising, the allied effort to explore and pacify the regions of the Delta Quadrant first explored by the Federation starship Voyager. Upon being called to serve in the furthest reaches of the galaxy, K'Vok's ship made a stop at the allied command center in the Jenolan Dyson Sphere and he had beamed down to receive his ship's orders personally. The intelligence forces of the Federation, Romulan Republic, and the Klingon Empire seemed to have taken the lead in the efforts to defeat the Vaadwaur and K'Vok had not questioned it. Once the Imperial Intelligence officer handed him his orders, he proceeded to another section of the command center to requistion needed supplies for his ship, but as he did so he caught sight of something familiar out of the corner of his eye.
It was a fleeting glance, though just enough to pique K'Vok's curiosity. He followed the robed figure to another chamber of the allied command center, never seeing his face straight on but seeing just enough to compel him into pursuit. They found themselves in the medical section of the command center, where many laid wounded due to the conflict against the Vaadwaur. The hooded figure knelt beside the bed of a Romulan soldier so injured that he was barely recognizable as Romulan based on the number of machines hooked up to him.
Any sense of deference to the soon to be dead was lost on K'Vok as he grabbed the Klingon's shoulder and forcefully spun him around. Before he even could look in the other man's eyes, he started to state, "Who are you...?"
"nuqneh, my son," said K'Dak, a Klingon of middle age and father of K'Vok with a pained look in the same eyes that were staring into his. "I imagine we have much to discuss..."
"Where have you been?" K'Vok asked harshly. "I've not seen you since..."
"Not here!" his father whispered. "Come, there is bloodwine to be had nearby. We can continue this discussion there..."
It had been K'Dak who consumed the most bloodwine at a makeshift mess hall away from the command center; K'Vok had barely touched his while fighting back the rage that was swelling within him. For many turns, his mother's defection to the Federation burned his blood; his father's complete disappearance did so even more.
"I imagine you have questions, Son," K'Dak stated after a long, pained silence. His father came from a minor house and he was the youngest of five sons who's father was eighth in line to inherit it. Perhaps that was why his marriage to B'rena was matrilineal. "I wish I knew where to start..."
"Why not with why you left?" K'Vok asked angrily. "Why you have not said anything to me in decades?"
"Would anything I say soothe your indignation? That your uncle, while an honorable man, did not care for me? That I was shamed after your mother left us? That by joining Imperial Intelligence as an operative I was forced to leave my old life behind and didn't wish to burden..."
"'Burden?'" As if finding out his father was a spy wasn't despicable enough. "I am an adult now, Father; an officer and warship commander. There were many times you have reached out to me. Or you could have asked Uncle Ka'rel to explain it at any time since you left."
"As I said, Lord Ka'rel and I did not get along, worse so after B'rena defected," his father remarked. "And an honorable house lord like him has little love for I.I. No, the life of an intelligence officer was all that was left to me and it was all I could choose."
"Why?" the son questioned sharply. "What made you think the life of a spy was all that left to you?"
"Was I ever going to inherit my grandfather's house, Son? Was Ka'rel going to accept me as a member of his? You mother leaving for the Federation sealed my fate. To avoid dishonoring you and your sons, I chose to leave, to become the blade in the shadows. To protect the Empire from the darkness by dwelling within the darkness. And look at you now; captain of your own vessel, a warrior with far more public accomplishments and honors than I could possibly hope for..."
K'Vok snorted derisively. "Accomplishments and honors? You thought I was a failure! That I was failure because of Mother, but it was in fact you who was the failure and now you hope to regain some semblance of pride because of what I've accomplished. You claim to be my father, K'Dak? Ka'rel is more of a father to me than you will ever hope to be."
"K'Dak is dead, my son," the older Klingon explained as he slowly stood up. "My name now is...unimportant, but the work I do now is. The Empire has enemies; enemies who do not show themselves in the light of day, but linger in the shade. My job now is to find those enemies and if I cannot bring them under the sun, then it is to kill them in the black where they take refuge. You could be a great asset for us, Son. The HoS'ro' is more than capable of participating in the very sort of fight we need to wage against the Vaadwaur."
"I will not serve alongside the man who abandoned me," K'Vok growled.
"You've already received orders from Galera; you are already involved." K'Dak set a short handle on their table and added, "And that, I pass on to you."
"What is it?"
"A prototype bat'leth developed by the group I now serve. By tradition a father must pass his sword unto his son, and so now I am doing so. It is...not conventional. Like myself. Or you..."
And a turn later, K'Vok sat in the room provided for him by his Uncle Ka'rel, holding the handle bequeathed to him by K'Dak and constantly toggling the button to extend and retract the blades. Ka'rel believed that the best way to expose the false Karag and Rhetok was to meet their challenge to J'mpok and the arrest warrant issued to the HoS'ro' openly before the Klingon High Council. And while K'Vok was willing to hold to their people's traditions and face his family's enemies openly with perhaps Ka'rel as his cha'DIch, his experiences with K'Dak and House Pegh had taught him there were those among their people who had little use for honor or tradition and perhaps what had really matured him over the past turn was seeing all that for himself directly. K'Vok continually opened and retracted the blades of his bat'leth in the middle of the night, impatient for the next dawn...
|
|
|
Post by norcaler on Dec 15, 2015 5:33:11 GMT
Donatu Sector
The San Francisco continued its voyage to Qo'noS, capital of the Klingon Empire, warping through space that a few years ago would have invited certain attack. In those days the ship would be approaching at a far more cautious speed at full alert, certainly not attempting to hail the star system ahead and certainly not with the captain and first officer off the bridge. Angela Gorman accompanied McBride down to the San Francisco's sickbay where Doctor Bett was waiting with new information that could perhaps expose the fraudulent Karag and unravel whatever conspiracy his master was weaving. As for what had happened before on Jarkonis II, the captain had said little (Indeed, the most vivid descriptions of the journey came from Ensign Pak, who was piloting the shuttle and who couldn't stop talking about the wonders she saw) save for a conclusion he had drawn.
"What makes you so sure?" she asked in the turbolift. "Jarkonis seems to be the only logical place to attack."
"And that's why Rhetok won't," he replied, sounding convinced. "Krann and Merzan tried it over the last few years and it ended badly for them. Even if he does attack, he'd never get past that field of glass shards or whatever that they use to protect before Ka'rel and the Zife's group come storming in after him. Rhetok's just usin' Jarkonis as another distraction."
"And President Sarien told you this?" It seemed odd that McBride would suddenly reverse direction based on one meeting with the leader of the Jarkoni, but then again, the perceived threat to Jarkonis came from just one meeting with K'Vok.
"No, but he sorta nudged me in that direction. We've been assumin' that Rhetok would ultimately act like a stereotypical Klingon, but time and again he's been actin' more like a Tal Shiar agent. Any other Klingon so much as sneezes in Jarkonis' and suddenly we've got fleets on both sides parked along the border."
"And you believe he already has what he wants?" Gorman questioned as the turbolift came to a halt on Deck 12. "Control of a house? Karag's wife dead and he branded a traitor?"
"He was Krann's only male heir," the captain explained as they left the 'lift and headed in the direction of sickbay. "If the general kicked the bucket any other way, the House of Krann would have gone to him. Instead, Karag claimed it in a duel. It's all about revenge, Angela; the rest of this is just gravy."
"Still, wouldn't it have been simpler just to kill Karag and take his house from him instead of going through all these theatrics?"
"It wasn't enough just to kill him; he had to ruin everythin' about him."
"And you got all that through one conversation with an alien leader who you now believe absolutely has no stake in this crisis whatsoever," Gorman said, trying not to sound too skeptical to the point where it'd come off as her flatly rejecting her commanding officer's conclusion. She'd like for him to be right; any invasion of Jarkonis was bound to be a messy affair and likely would put yet another strain on the alliance. And yet ignoring the threat felt as big of a mental hurdle as seeing the word red in blue letters and trying to say that they see blue.
"It was an insightful conversation," McBride said slyly as they entered Dr. Bett's office. "What do you got, Doc?"
"Unfortunately Klingon medical records are...sparse at best," she replied, dressed in medical whites and seated behind her desk. "They only visit physicians when they're in such bad shape they can barely stand, so a lot of minor and chronic issues go undiagnosed, and the latter sometimes after it's too late to do anything about it. K'Jal does have a medical history, but it's extremely sporadic, sometimes with a decade or so between mentions and scattered throughout Klingon space. Karag's is a little more detailed, but that's mainly because he's in the military. And has a knack for getting into death defying situations."
"Anything that could be used to tell the two of them apart?" asked Gorman.
"Well, with the right surgeon and equipment, injuries can be repaired so effectively that it'd be impossible to tell if they happened at all. Likewise the reverse is true; K'Jal likely had every scar and injury Karag had surgically...installed for lack of a better word." The Bajoran yawned and then pinched the bridge of her ridged nose tiredly. "Sorry. Haven't stayed up that late studying medical records like that since Starfleet Med."
"What about somethin' not injury related?" said the captain. "Neurological disorder? Allergies?"
"He does have the preliminary signs of a degenerative condition in Klingons according to a mandatory physical he had to take when he signed on for that holofilm of his," Bett replied. "Eventually control over motor functions degrades to the point where the extremities shake uncontrollably. It can be treated by several injectable medications."
"So I guess we just need to find his stash," commented the first officer. "Or scan him with a medical tricorder?"
"That's the problem: the condition's only detectable with a more extensive exam at a medical facility. And while the Klingon version hasn't been cured yet, similar conditions in other species have and for all we know the Adigeons have for this one. They're notoriously tight-lipped about their medical expertise, particularly with people who've outlawed almost all of their practices."
"But it's somethin' we can use and somethin' we don't need that missin' sample to obtain," McBride said. "Good work, Doc."
"Thanks, sir," she replied. "Nice to have something to do around here other than treat workplace accidents."
"Hopefully for the rest of this trip y'all will be sittin' on your hands." Both command officers nodded to the doctor before heading out into sickbay, McBride with a little spring in his step. "I think we might be able to nail this bastard, finally."
"Assuming there's nothing else up his sleeve," Gorman said as she rubbed the back of her neck, also feeling a bit of fatigue catching up to her. "It'll be nice to finally put this behind us. We've been dealing with this off and on for what, five months?"
"Feels longer, what with the Iconians, Breen, and Terrans," he remarked as he started to lead her back towards the turbolift. "If only I could have had more than a couple hours on Jarkonis..."
McBride did seem giddy, or at least in a far better mood than he had been in than every other day Gorman had served with him in the past year plus. "Enjoy yourself down there, sir?"
"Well, Jarkonis isn't a strange new world in the broader sense, but it was new to me. It was...beautiful, you know? Not like what all the detractors say it is and even what Spots told me about it didn't do it justice
"'Spots?'"
"Captain Rastalon of the..." All of a sudden, the entire deck lurched sharply. Gorman was thrown into the bulkhead and she just barely got her hands up to catch the captain. She felt a shiver in the deck plate and she knew well enough to know that something happened with the warp drive. McBride slapped his combadge and barked, "Bridge, what the hell just happened?"
"Tractor mines, sir!" Turner replied over the cacophony of klaxons and sirens. "Pulled us right out of warp!"
"They appear to be Hirogen, sir!" added N'iss.
The captain narrowed his eyes before saying in as cold of a tone Gorman had ever heard, "Sound battle stations. Ready phasers and torpedoes. Someone's itchin' for a fight and I think we ought to oblige..."
|
|
|
Post by norcaler on Dec 16, 2015 7:42:09 GMT
Donatu Sector
The ship still ensared by the small tractor beam emplacements that dragged her out of warp, Nathan McBride emerged on the bridge of the starship San Francisco with Gorman following close behind. Forcefully bringing a Galaxy-class exploration cruiser down to sublight speeds was no mean feat and the captain was still sore from getting tossed around, like if someone pulled the emergency brake on an old fashioned locomotive. In mid stride towards his captain's chair, he asked, "Status report!"
"We're at a dead stop, sir," Pak replied from the helm station, her fingers furiously dancing across her console. "No response on impulse power or maneuvering thrusters!"
"Captain, long range sensors are picking up four vessels on an intercept course," N'iss added. "Configuration appears Hirogen."
"Confirmed," Turner said. "Four Hunter-class escorts."
"You said they were spoiling for a fight, sir," the first officer remarked from the captain's left. "They certainly came prepared."
"Target the mines and take them out with the phasers," McBride ordered. He'd never faced Hirogen before in combat, but knew well enough of their ship's capabilities to know that the odds were not entirely in the San Francisco's favor. True, while the upgrades to the ship over the past 40 years seriously boosted her defensive and tactical capabilities to the point where McBride could almost get away with boasting it could take punishment like an Odyssey and dish it out like an Arbiter, those three ships still posed a threat. "And send out a distress signal on all frequencies."
"Firing phasers," said Turner and several of the San Francisco's aft arrays opened up on the small satellites that held the ship in place. Each one were destroyed in quick succession and the ship lurched once it was free of the tractor beam. "Targets destroyed. We're loose."
"Hirogen ships dropping out of warp!" warned N'iss. On the view screen, the rust-tinted, well worn warships suddenly appeared and immediately began firing blue-tinted energy bolts at the San Francisco.
"They're firing tachyon cannons, Captain!" warned Turner. "Shields are fluctuating!"
"They're not even bothering to give us the 'hunter-prey' speech," said Gorman with a scowl.
"Return fire!" McBride ordered. And the San Francisco did so, unleashing rapid streams of orange phaser beams at each of the attackers. An impressive display and McBride could almost see their shields weakening with his own two eyes, but the Hirogen broke formation with two of the four breaking to either the left or right. "Helm, reverse course, bring around to 113 mark 4. Quantum torpedoes, full spread. Fire!"
A swarm of bluish-white orbs shot out from the San Francisco's forward tube as she started to turn away from the oncoming assault, striking only half of the attacking vessels. Turner reported, "Their shields are still holding."
"I can't get a clear transmission to Starfleet or KDF through," added Rixx. "The Hirogen are jamming all channels!"
"Captain, they're moving to flank, trying to cut off any escape course!" said Pak, doing as best as she could to maneuver the hefty starship.
"Acknowledged, Ensign!" said the captain as the ship was rocked by intense fire. They had their fair share of close engagements over the past few years; partially or completely outgunned, unable to signal for reinforcements, unable to go to warp. "Continual fire, all phasers."
The San Francisco continued to unleash phaser barrage after barrage, torpedo after torpedo. The Hirogen continued to pepper the Federation ship's shields. A well placed salvo of quantum torpedoes struck one of the warships in its unshielded stern and the resulting detonations tore it to pieces. Rixx added rather unnecessarily after the Hirogen vessel exploded, "One enemy target destroyed."
"There's our openin'. Course 184 mark 1. Full impulse power. Mr. Turner, keep the rest of them off our backs."
As the captain ordered, the San Francisco charged through the gap left by the destroyed Hirogen ship, lighting up space with phaser fire like it was mere holidary fireworks. But one of the Hunter's skimmed over the saucer section and assumed a blocking position ahead of the Federation starship. Even though it was presenting its vulnerable stern, there was no way the San Francisco could warp around it.
"Shields buckling, Captain!" Turner warned. "Recommend we prepare for boarding parties!"
"Emergency power to the weapon systems!" McBride shouted. His ship's screens were practically gone; no sense wasting power from the San Francisco's warp core to try to buff the failing shields. Besides, the way Chief Engineer T'Pren had the main power grid configured, transferring emergency power to weapons meant that their attackers were about to have a really bad day. "FIRE!"
And so the Galaxy-class starship fired her phasers again; beams shooting off from the arrays more rapidly than the blink of an eye. A second Hirogen ship's shields were shreaded and the follow-up torpedo blasts obliterated it. But the surviving pair continued to pelt the San Francisco.
"We've lost shields! Casualty reports coming in from the secondary hull!"
"Engineering to bridge," warned the Vulcan chief engineer. "Starboard power coupling is down. All attempts to bypass have failed. Main phaser banks are offline."
"Acknowledged!" McBride barked, hating the fact that T'Pren always gave accurate assessments with little room for miracles. "Transfer emergency power to the shields. Keep firin' torpedo tubes, maximum yield."
"Federation ship San Francisco," an angry voice said over the short range communications channel. "Surrender and prepare to be boarded."
McBride's back was against the wall and he felt that this attack was a result of Rhetok somehow and despite the Hirogen captain's claim, a surrender would guarantee his crew's death. And not for the first time, he pictured his mother during the last hours of the starship Endurance, facing a superior foe and certain destruction. He hoped that wherever she was right now, his mom would be proud of him. "Like hell we will. Fire torp..."
"Captain!" N'iss shouted. "Ship de-cloaking at bearing 312 mark 8! Klingon Bortasqu'-class!"
The new arrival appeared and unleashed a hellacious barrage from its forward disruptor auto cannon, incinerating one of the two remaining Hirogen ships. The Klingon dreadnought came to a sudden halt and continued to tear into the last hostile vessel until it too was torn to pieces. It took a few seconds after the final explosion for McBride to let out another breath.
"Is that the Korrd?" asked Gorman, referring to Governor Ka'rel's flagship.
"Negative," Turner replied. "Hull markings and transponder signal says she's the Reclaw Cha'; Captain Vero's ship."
"How?"
"Let's...not argue this one," McBride said tiredly. "Hail them..."
"They're already hailing us, sir," said the tactical officer.
"On screen..." The giant Klingon vessel disappeared from the view screen, replaced by a face McBride had become all too familiar with over the past five months, but for many reasons wasn't entirely sure he could believe what he was seeing. "Karag...?"
"Yes, I am Karag, Captain; lord of the House of Karag and general in the Imperial Klingon Defense Forces. Rhetok sent the Hirogen to prevent you from reaching the homeworld. How soon can your ship be underway?"
McBride stood up from his chair and said, "We're still assessin' the damage over here..."
"We do not have much time, Captain," the apparent Karag said. "Make your repairs and swiftly; if we do not act fast, then Rhetok will win and Ka'rel and K'Vok will be dead at his hands..."
|
|
|
Post by norcaler on Dec 18, 2015 7:35:02 GMT
Qo'noS Sector
"Must you wave that thing so close to me?!" asked Karag angrily. The San Francisco was nearing the Qo'noS system and he had felt that it'd be more discreet if he made the remainder of the voyage aboard the Federation ship instead of his "borrowed" flagship, which was supposed to be all the way back in the Alpha Quadrant. Nathan McBride obliged, but given the numerous twists and turns this little story had taken over the past five months, he wasn't about to lower his guard. Thus, Dr. Bett had been brought to the meeting in the observation lounge to verify Karag's identity based on what they had learned about K'Jal.
"No traces of any medications in his system," said the doctor, who was holding the detachable scanner up next to Karag's head. "I'd have to take him down to sickbay to run a full test to see if he has the condition, but I'd say if he's not shaking then I'd say he doesn't. Unless the general's willing to..."
Scowling, the Klingon added, "The general is not. Once we reach the homeworld, we must move quickly."
"Thank you, Doc; dismissed," McBride, who was sitting on the opposite long end of the conference table, said; the two of them were mostly alone, though two of his personal Honor Guard stood outside under the general's orders, who Bett passed as she exited in the direction of the turbolift. "First things first, General. Would y'all mind explainin' what you've been doin' all this time?"
"Another Starfleet conference," Karag scoffed. "You people would gather half the quadrant at Risa just to merely discuss the protocol for another conference."
"We still got time before we reach the system, so that's plenty of time for y'all to humor me. Why didn't you seek out help from Ka'rel or your wife?"
The general, clad in the same heavy armor he wore back on Drozana Station, got up from his chair and walked towards the aft windows. "Do you know what it is like to have your identity stolen? To not know what that...forgery had done with your life? He and his master Rhetok had stolen almost everything I had by the time we returned from the Delta Quadrant, even my very DNA. And what wasn't taken by him was on lockdown after I was declared dead. It was S'Taev who insisted we go to ground until we knew how extensive this conspiracy was. With no ship and only a handful of soldiers, I had little choice."
"Where is S'Taev now?" asked McBride. "We believe he might have important information that could further help us expose K'Jal."
"You mean an original genetic sample of that sniveling little homm?" Karag asked before removing something from inside a belt pouch. He held it up and to McBride's eye it looked like a standard Petri dish one might find in a science lab below decks. "S'Taev managed to obtain it during his mission to Adigeon Prime and left it with me before he went on another mission to the Cursa system, however I've not heard from him since. I fear he may have been killed or worse, captured."
"If they do have him, whatever plans you two were making might have been compromised."
"Doubtful. The Imperial Navy trains their officers well in resisting interrogation. If they have him, he has probably already died, painfully and without a chance to fight back. He will not betray us."
"So what is exactly your plan?" McBride asked.
"The only plan possible under Klingon law, Captain," Karag replied. "Expose Rhetok's treachery before the High Council. Thanks to Ka'rel, Rhetok and that fraud are now compelled to appear before the council, as well. We must make our move."
"Except you're worried that Ka'rel and K'Vok might not make it."
"Rhetok has been planning this for many turns, having his men infiltrate or bribe my house's forces to set up the ambush in the Delta Quadrant. Having the duplicate ready to seize control of my house before Tira could be granted it for herself. The resources, the funding; to come this far only to be compelled to appear before the council over a...trivial matter? He'd rather have assassins like those Hirogen to dispose of them before he's forced to be subject to the council's will."
"What is his endgame, anyway?" asked McBride. The captain did have his own theory, but figured his guest might know better. "He can't honestly think he could install Fake You as the leader of the Empire and expect to hold it with what he's been doin'."
"He doesn't," Karag said as he began to pace. "Rhetok is not foolish enough to think a man such as him could to control the empire even through a proxy. His goal has been revenge, pure and simple. To seize my house and destroy my name by turning me into an enemy of J'mpok so that he can ultimately serve my duplicate's head to the chancellor upon a pike and hope to earn the title of daHar master, perhaps even thought admiral for his 'service' to the Empire. According to my information, he has used the fake to rally minor houses once aligned with Merzan and Koloth the Lesser to his cause; known enemies of J'mpok and the council. Enemies that are now gathered around a shell of a space station purportedly near the one thing we Klingons fear the most: an Iconian gateway, albeit one that was deactivated years ago and likely cannot be restored to function based on what S'Taev learned."
"So this is all just...some kind of fiction? A big ol' story Rhetok's weavin' to make himself look like some big damn hero of the Empire?"
"Precisely, Captain. The chancellor's fleet will arrive at their location in a matter of days and be fired upon. And the traitors will be easily slaughtered because their base and its defenses are just as much a sham as the man who leads them. A grave threat to the Empire will be ended and the ring leader will be brought to justice by Rhetok."
"And how exactly is he plannin' to get away with this?" McBride asked with just a bit of skepticism. "A lot of people know Rhetok's the one runnin' the show."
"Hence why Rhetok has gone to great lengths to kill those people, Captain," Karag stated, now stopping to look him right in the eye. "The Hirogen sent after you, the Nausicaan who tried to kill K'Vok on Nimbus III, even the rogue elements of my house who attacked my wife. If he can get rid of us without his being implicated, he'll win."
"So what's the plan?"
"The information you obtained and the genetic sample I've given you must be given to the High Council, but it will not be as simple as walking through the front door. The council must be in session and you must be permitted to attend. In the situation of a challenge, only during the mek'ba can the the challenger produce evidence, however the Mek'ba happens after those being challenged are allowed to make their first statement. Rhetok will have the benefit of the first strike and by tradition the council goes into recess prior to the Mek'ba. And that is when he will move against K'Vok and Ka'rel."
"Is that legal?" McBride asked, wishing he had taken an elective course on the customs of the Klingon Empire when he had the chance at the academy fifteen years or so ago.
"K'Vok will likely select Ka'rel as his cha'DIch," Karag explained and there was yet another Klingon term that flew over McBride's head. "During the challenge, K'Vok will not be permitted the honor of combat; Ka'rel will have to protect him. Rhetok will have Ka'rel killed in some back alley of the First City and K'Vok will meet a similar demise. The Mek'ba will proceed without them to bring any evidence of Rhetok's conspiracy. The matter will be considered closed by the council absent any figurative blood on Rhetok's hands. And then he would be free to finish what he has set in motion."
"Hold on just a damn minute," the captain said skeptically as he got up from his chair and joined Karag by the window. "This whole thing gets stopped if K'Vok and Ka'rel get killed before they get their turn in the court room?"
"It is our way, Captain; has been since the days of the original Kahless. And our way is what has lured Rhetok into the open. He must face the initial challenge before the council, otherwise they will have no choice but to rule against him, just as they will have no choice but to rule in his favor if K'Vok does not live to see the Mek'ba."
"This is all pretty damn crazy if you ask me..."
"I did not," Karag said with a grin.
"All right, so make sure Ka'rel and K'Vok aren't currently dead," the human remarked. "And then we keep them alive long enough for this Mek'ba to happen and we can present all this evidence that K'Jal's not you. Is that how this is gonna work?"
"Probably not. As I said, Rhetok is using this duplicate so he can rise to the power he really craves. He will more than likely if K'Vok and Ka'rel still live by the time of the Mek'ba be forced to carry out his plan to turn the impostor over to the chancellor. That is when you must make your move captain; to expose this treachery before the High Council."
"And what exactly will you be doin' during all this, General?"
"Awaiting the right moment to reveal myself," Karag said with a grin. "After all, I can't very well do so until you provide evidence that I'm not the impostor. I will provide coordinates for your transporter chief to beam me down once we make orbit. Good luck, Captain..."
The general grabbed the helmet he left on the conference table and left the observation lounge, leaving McBride to comment to himself, "I hate it when they do that..."
Either way, though, the current crisis was about to end within the Great Hall of the Klingon High Council...
|
|
|
Post by norcaler on Dec 20, 2015 8:08:32 GMT
The Great Hall of The Klingon High Council
K'Ulayr, first officer of the HoS'ro', greeted the rumbling shutting of the massive doors to the Great Hall with trepidation. Cutting the council chambers off from the First City, they were now committed; the challenge against the arrest order of the High Council would now have to go forward, that she, her captain, and their crew would be forced to try to prove that they were not guilty of breaking into yoDjuH'a' chal'taD when they in fact did. Their only defense: that the Klingon lord who petitioned the Empire to issue the arrest order was a fraud. And they were gambling that whatever evidence they had would be accepted by the High Council. Though the lieutenant commander had little experience in legal affairs, she knew well enough they could be unpredictable and Klingon legal affairs doubly so.
"I guess this is it, then," said R'og. He, K'Ulayr, Moruk, Karune, Melea, Lynnush, and Vokna were present; K'Vok was a distance away consulting privately with his uncle's gin'tak and the rest of the crew of the HoS'ro' were in the custody of Ka'rel's troops back on the ship.
"Well they don't close the doors unless they someone might try to make a run for it," said Karune.
"Maybe we'll be lucky and an Iconian will show up and start disintegrating people left and right," Melea quipped with a slight smirk.
"Haven't you been paying attention, Princess?" Lynnush fired back. "Our luck isn't that good."
"A bit of good luck would be welcome right now," said Moruk. "If this doesn't work, we'll all be summarily executed and if I have to die I'd rather not have to go to Sto-Vo-Kor at the same time as all of you. I hate waiting in long lines."
"If they execute all of us, sir, we'll more than likely all be rowing the Barge of the Dead," Vokna commented.
"At least we'll be together," said K'Ulayr, "and after everything we've been through, I wouldn't have it any other way, even in Gre'thor."
"I agree," K'Vok said as he approached, clad like the rest of them in a dress uniform, though Melea's as expected was the most revealing garb of the group. "All is ready, though there is a slight delay. The chancellor is speaking with Defense Force leadership. It seems they found a fleet of ships belonging to minor houses in opposition to J'mpok and a space station that was rather easily dispatched."
"And the Iconian gate?"
"Inoperative, just as McBride said. These forces have yet to be linked officially to 'Karag,' but I suspect the subject will come up during the challenge." K'Ulayr had only heard pieces of the developments her captain had learned since they returned to Qo'noS and certainly not enough to assure her that this plan his uncle had hatched had a chance of success. "I would speak with you alone, Commander."
The rest of the crew silently decided to give the two of them space and cluster near one of the large statues in the great hall. Once they were out of earshot, K'Vok added, "Once the chancellor arrives, the challenge will begin and I have yet to select a cha'DIch."
"I would have assumed you would have selected Governor Ka'rel, sir," she replied.
"No," he said with a shake of his head. "I cannot ask him to single-handedly protect me, not when he's already staked our house and his honor on this. And Uncle was wrong about one thing: he claimed that I faced the danger alone when in fact I did not. You and the crew have been with me ever since this began."
"We serve our captain."
"You choose to serve, Commander, in spite of great hardship and that is as great an honor to me as everything Ka'rel, McBride, and Decius have done. That is why I would ask that you serve as cha'DIch. I can think of no one else I would trust my life with since I have done so for well over a turn."
She hesitated a moment, even looked away from him, but then stared directly into his eyes and firmly recited the traditional oath, "jIlajneS. ghIj qet jaghmeyjaj."
"Cute," said McBride in his native tongue (there was no such word in tlhIngan Hol as far as K'Ulayr knew of) as he and his party, a human female, a human male with skin darker than his captain, a Bajoran female, and an Andorian female approached.
"You said you did not speak Klingon," K'Vok countered.
"Speak? No. Understand? Kinda. Council's enterin' session. Let's just hope this works." As the human stated so, the members of the High Council distinguished by their official cassoks began to assemble on the dais. Last and certainly not least was the chancellor himself.
J'mpok stood at the podium and barked so loud that he might have been heard past the blast doors, "THE CHALLENGER WILL STEP FORWARD!"
K'Vok stepped forward to the open space in the main floor and K'Ulayr followed one step behind; their shipmates along with the contingent from the San Francisco remained among the crowd. He bellowed, "I am K'Vok, captain of the Imperial Klingon Ship HoS'ro'! I challenge the lies spoken of my crew!"
"K'Vok, commander of the HoS'ro'!" J'mpok countered. "You challenge the judgment of this council?! Are you prepared to answer for this if you fail?"
"Yes! With my life!"
"And what of you, lieutenant commander? Why do you stand with your commanding officer? The council's warrant was against K'Vok, not you or your crew."
"I will stand by my captain's side," she replied. "I am cha'DIch."
"Very well," J'mpok said, gesturing to one of his aides to hand K'Ulayr a ceremonial d'k tahg. She would have preferred a bat'leth given the threats to the man she was now solely responsible for protecting. "The loyalty of one's crew is admirable. The council has noted it."
"And why have you brought outsiders?" asked 'Karag,' who was standing near the dais with several individuals; the one in the Honor Guard armor K'Ulayr recognized as Rhetok. "Our official ceremonies are not for those in the uniforms of children..."
"We've been asked here to present evidence durin' the Mek'ba," McBride said forcefully, his voice containing more bass than K'Ulayr had been accustomed to. Someone must have coached him; her bet was on the Andorian. "And if y'all want to call me a child, y'all best be ready to try to give me a spankin'. I'd love to see ya try..."
"mev'yap! Speak the accusation!" J'mpok ordered sharply.
"Gladly, Chancellor," 'Karag' said. "Several months ago, my personal residence, yoDjuH'a' chal'taD was broken into by an away team led by the commander of the HoS'ro'. One of his crew, a Gorn QasdevwI named Thaalt, died fighting my soldiers and giving his shipmates time to escape. This was an act of betrayal, a betrayal after I had given K'Vok and his crew shelter and food as per my obligation as the lord of a Klingon house. I have been called many names over the past week, many of them synoymous with the word 'traitor.' The future will judge if I am that, but one thing I am not is a thief and a coward. K'Vok clearly broke into yoDjuH'a' chal'taD like a thief and allowed one of his men to die for him like a coward. Do you deny any of this?"
"No, I do not," K'Vok said bluntly. "I ordered the raid into yoDjuH'a' chal'taD and I allowed Thaalt to die so that the rest of us may escape."
"Then what is the purpose of the challenge?" asked J'mpok. "You claim that the council is wrong, but you have just admitted to what you have been charged with. Your words may have just condemned you and your crew to death!"
"Because the accusation was brought by a man who is not who he says he is! We have proof that this petaQ who claims to be Lord Karag is in fact a..."
"This is not the Mek'ba!" 'Karag' shouted. "If this thieving Ha'DIbaH or his Federation friends wishes to present evidence, they will do so then!"
"Silence!" shouted the chancellor. "The council will determine when the mek'ba will proceed, and since your house has cast a grave, almost treasonous insult at this council, you will be the last to offer a suggestion when that will be. Do I make myself clear, General?"
'Karag' reluctantly replied, "...Yes, Chancellor."
"Then the Mek'ba will being immediately! I am not one who enjoys long waits. Present your evidence against the challenger!"
"There is only one relevant piece of evidence to present, Chancellor," 'Karag' said before waving towards soldiers standing near one of the side entrances. Even more entered guiding a tube-like object into the council chambers suspended by an anti-gravity field. Once it was in front of the dais, the soldiers removed the cover; upon it was a large Gorn whose body had been riddled with disruptor wounds. "This is QasdevwI Thaalt. While K'Vok has admitted his guilt, condemned himself and his crew to death, and his house to dishonor, we felt it was necessary to demonstrate that our accusation was not baseless."
"You animals!" R'og shouted as he tried to charge towards 'Karag' and Rhetok, though Karune and Vokna managed to grab the small Gorn before he managed to break free of the crowd. "That's my brother!"
"You should know your place, Gorn!" 'Karag' barked. "Your brother is dead because he served a thief! A thief who has admitted his crimes and who dares try to challenge this council's judgment while pleading his guilt. The House of Karag moves that K'Vok and his crew be summarily executed. Immediately."
"You yourself have claimed the chancellor and the council are traitors," K'Vok countered. "How strange is it that you ask the very people you seek to eliminate to do you a favor. Would you not agree, Rhetok? We are after all here because of you, because you petitioned the council for the arrest of my crew!"
"My acts and Lord Karag's acts are not up for debate here, Commander," Rhetok countered with a smirk. "It is your deceit that is on trial here. You who commands a ship of the pathetic and dishonored, you who chooses a cha'DIch who was born of a Sli'vat!"
"Mind your words, Honor Guard Captain," J'mpok said coldly even as K'Ulayr found herself gripping her d'k tahg tightly and ready to slit the throat of the man who spewed such loathsome insults of her mother. "We shall deal with your alleged activities in short order..."
"Then let us deal with them now, Chancellor!" K'Vok shouted. "The House of Karag has made the claim against my crew. I submit that its leader is not who he says he is!"
"You've said that before, Commander," said 'Karag,' "and such accusations without proof will result in your death. And perhaps your uncle's since he is the reason you weren't brought here in chains like you should have been. Do you wish to condemn him to death in a vain hope you would keep this despicable rabble you call a crew alive?"
"We have proof, K'Jal!" McBride shouted before he stepped forward.
"What...?" the chancellor asked in surprise.
"This is not your world, human!" Rhetok said sharply. "Don't make any accusations you cannot back up, lest you endanger our alliance with the Federation. Or the lives of your crew."
"Oh, we've got plenty to back up our accusations and y'all saw to the endangerin' of us with your Hirogen friends," the Starfleet captain said. The Bajoran handed him a small dish, which he held up, adding, "This is a genetic sample recovered from Adigeon Prime of K'Jal, who was surgically and genetically altered to be Karag."
"The same K'Jal who suffers from a neurological disorder that causes his hands to shake unless treated with the proper drug," said the Bajoran. "And a condition I can test for, if 'Karag' is willing to submit to it."
"And if he does not, I submit that the claim against my crew be dismissed summarily!" barked K'Vok. "And that he and his followers be arrested for treason and conspiracy against the true House of Karag."
"That is a grand claim, Commander," said J'mpok. "Even if what you say is true, that this...person is not the real Karag, then where is the real House...?"
"Right here, Chancellor," said a voice unknown to but a split second later was quite familiar to K'Ulayr. She turned to see someone in black armor and a helmet emerge from another side room flanked by Orion women in Honor Guard uniforms. The obscured one removed his head covering to reveal himself as...another Karag. "It was almost a perfect plan, Rhetok, save for the fact that you did not ensure that I was dead."
"You...how...?" the duplicate Karag asked.
"Service entrance in the tunnels that feeds out to the Old Quarter, but that's not really what you're asking, is it? Did not Rhetok tell you that we survived his treachery in the Delta Quadrant? How we've been sifting through his lies and deceptions to get to this moment? Actions that turned you into a traitor in my name, which your master hoped to capitalize on? Put the whole quadrant on alert for fear your defunct gateway would usher in your conquest of Jarkonis?"
"I am beginning to get a headache," lamented the chancellor.
"All this was so that Rhetok could claim that he has no right to," said K'Vok firmly. "To destroy the name of Karag, become the hero he had no chance of being so that he could demand of the council a house of his own plus the title of thought admiral."
"Is this what this was about, Rhetok?" asked Kulnara. "Your greed instead of what was best for our family? For the Empire?!"
"That does not absolve you of the crime you've committed, K'Vok!" the guard captain roared as he pointed at him. "You should die for what you've done!"
"Perhaps I should, Rhetok, but I can admit what I have done," he countered. "Can you?"
Rhetok growled before drawing his mek'leth. As he lunged towards K'Vok, K'Ulayr in one swift motion drew her d'k tahg and threw it at her captain's attacker. It lodged hilt deep in his throat and he fell to the floor, gurgling and spasming briefly before collapsing into a dead, blood-soaked pile.
"Nice shot," remarked Karag.
"I was aiming for his skull, my lord," she replied.
"The council will adjourn so that a full investigation may be conducted," J'mpok said tiredly as he started to head out of the Great Hall. "The rest of you remain here on the homeworld until it is completed."
"That's...good, right?" McBride asked cautiously after the High Council withdrew from the room and the hall's security forces dragged out Rhetok's co-conspirators.
"I would hope so," K'Ulayr remarked.
Karag laughed. "Calm yourself, Commander. We have won this day. And tomorrow will surely yield another victory..."
|
|
|
Post by norcaler on Dec 21, 2015 18:56:09 GMT
Epilogue
Nathan McBride felt a sense of relief in the capital building of the Klingon Empire yet again two days after the challenge that resulted in the slaying of Rhetok and the end of the crisis. The blood stain from the neck wound was still there; K'Jal, Kulnara, and Y'Tar were surrounded by armed guards ready to stab them too if they tried anything. The relief came from the knowledge that it was over; the conspiracy he and his crew had stumbled across all those months ago had been thwarted. He and Decius had just finished relaying their accounts of the events that led up to this point and the captain of the San Francisco wouldn't fault the commander of the Ra'kholh for feeling out of place here since he had practically just arrived at Qo'noS.
"The council appreciates your reports, Captain and Commander," prefaced Chancellor J'mpok, "and more over, the Federation and the Romulan Republic has the council's gratitude for your assitance in this matter."
"Happy to be of service, Chancellor," McBride said before Decius could, who just stood with his hands behind his back.
"We have recovered S'Taev's remains from Rhetok's flagship. They will be turned over to the Ra'kholh for transport back to New Romulus. The council wishes to express our regret that he did not die well."
"Thank you, Chancellor," Decius said grimly.
"General Karag, step forward!" Said Klingon, in full dress uniform, emerged from the crowd and stood only a few paces from J'mpok. "Your house has been the victim of a most insidious crime. An act of cowardice that you and your allies have avenged. The council returns that which had been stolen from you; the lands, titles, and forces of the House of Karag are now yours once again."
"I thank you, Chancellor," Karag said.
"Lord Karag," J'mpok added with a bit of warning in his voice, "the council would have appreciated being advised sooner of this deception."
"But would the council have believed me...sir? After all, my dislike of you is no secret."
"We do not need to like each other in order to work well together, Lord Karag. In fact, I distrust anyone who likes me too much." There was a pause and in that moment McBride couldn't tell if the leader of the Klingon Empire was making a joke or a threat, though J'mpok's rearing of his head seemed to strongly hint at the former. Karag and almost every Klingon in the Great Hall save the traitors let out a hearty laugh, while McBride and Decius just stood there silently, exchanging quiet glances. "As for you three, while the council has noted your claim that Rhetok deceived you as to his true intentions, you all stand convicted of treason against the Empire! The council hereby punishes all of Rhetok's allies with full discommendation. Their names shall no longer be spoken aloud by any Klingon and their descendants shall know this dishonor for seven generations. Your particular lives rest in the hands of Lord Karag."
"Turn them over to my custody, J'mpok," Karag said. "Let them die slowly and without honor in the dungeons of yoDjuH'a' chal'taD, let them freeze to death. As you three know by now, it is only slightly warmer there than on Rura Penthe!"
Kulnara and Y'Tar seemed to react with pained resignation, while K'Jal bowed his head and said while with Karag's voice but not entirely in a Karag manner, "Yes, yes! Thank you, my lord! Thank you for your mercy!"
"It is no mercy, K'Jal. You will wish that I had killed you here soon enough." Karag started to turn away from his new prisoners, but turned back and added, "You will of course require a new face. I couldn't stand to look at myself if I was sitting in irons, but unfortunately the only tools of cosmetic surgery I possess are d'k tahgs and mek'leths. Take them away!"
Soldiers in House of Karag garb grabbed them and started dragging them out of the Great Hall. K'Jal screamed the whole way out, begging for the mercy he had previously praised Karag for showing. The High Council and the onlookers shared another laugh at the prisoners' expense. McBride and Decius uneasily looked at the floor, neither man taking any pleasure in this. At least they'd be spared the gruesome sight of an on-the-spot execution.
"Commander K'Vok, step forward!" J'mpok barked.
The only Klingon in the hall who didn't join the others in the second healthy belly-laugh approached J'mpok, also clad in a dress uniform though his bore the red and black of the House of Ka'rel, not the gray and black of the House of Karag. K'Vok, who towered over every other Klingon in the room, stood with his hands at his back as well said nothing.
"You have acted with honor, K'Vok. Yours was the first Klingon vessel to investigate this scheme and you have brought an end to this conspiracy. These treacherous petaQ forced you and your crew into hiding, but you were able to overcome and defeat them. You have done your Empire a great service."
"Thank you, Chancellor," he replied.
"It is the council's judgment that you be promoted to the rank of captain in the Imperial Klingon Defense Force for your actions. Any command you desire could be yours; all you have to do is just name it..."
"...with respect to you and the High Council," said the newly-minted Captain K'Vok, "but I would not have been successful without the HoS'ro', his officers, and his crew. I would wish to remain there and with them so long as I draw breath! So long as I am their captain!"
"So be it, Captain," J'mpok said as he started towards one of the exits to the Great Hall. "Council stands adjourned..."
The various dignitaries and council members started to file out. K'Vok found himself drifting over to McBride and Decius, who didn't exactly have anyone else to mingle with other than themselves and their newly promoted colleague. In passing, Ambassador Worf walked over long enough to say to K'Vok, "Congratulations, Captain."
"Indeed, K'Vok," said the Romulan.
"Though I imagine the commander's now feelin' like the odd man out in our little troika," the human added. "Sounds like the chancellor was about to give you any damn ship you wanted in the Defense Force and yet you turned him down."
"Would give up the San Francisco for an Odyssey-class starship, McBride?" asked K'Vok. "Or you the Ra'kholh for a Kara-class warbird, Decius?"
"No damn way," answered McBride emphatically.
"And in my case, more than likely not," the commander noted. "Besides, with his passing I feel the obligation to attempt to tie S'Taev's tenure in command of the Ra'kholh and I have many years before I could even get anywhere close to that..."
"Captain K'Vok," said Karag as he approached the trio. "I would congratulate you on your promotion."
"'Would', General?" K'Vok asked tersely. "As I recall, my lord, it was your recommendation that prevented me from holding the rank of captain in the first place."
The Klingon lord smirked. "Yes, it was. An assessment that was accurate at the time...oh come now; did you think I came over here to concede I was wrong about you all those turns ago? I was right about you then as I am right about you now, K'Vok. You acted as a Klingon and you did so in support of me, someone who you have no affection for, just as I have no love for the chancellor. But I believe the three of us are mature enough to set aside our mutual loathing in order to do what is best for our people. Do you not agree?"
"I do, my lord."
Decius let out a nervous sigh before asking, "So what will you do now, General?"
"Find out what ships Rhetok bought with my money," Karag said, "and as I understand it, your Starfleet lost a starbase to the Terran Empire."
"We did, sir," the Starfleet officer replied.
"Then you may count on the House of Karag to assist you in taking it back. But first, the Reclaw Cha' will take me to Deep Space 9, where I will have to explain much to Tira..."
"Wait, she's alive?" McBride asked in surprise.
"You didn't know?" asked K'Vok.
"This is news to me, too, but then again I only just got here," mused Decius wryly.
"The crew she left behind on the ship was rather...forthcoming once they realized that I was who I claimed to be. Even if Tira fully forgives me for not contacting her, there will be...violence to overcome."
"I'll alert Captain Kurland to keep the breakables locked up and tied down, General."
"That will probably not stop her!" Lord Karag, the very man McBride, K'Vok, and Decius helped to save and restore to power, walked out of the main entrance of the Great Hall rearing his head back and laughing hysterically, almost as if he was going to enjoy whatever punishment his wife was about to subject him to.
"Do I dare ask why he finds this funny?" asked the Romulan.
"You probably should not," K'Vok replied.
"So, gentlemen," McBride said to his associates, "now this is all over, what's next?"
"I'll return to the HoS'ro' and to our duties," the Klingon answered first.
"Take S'Taev back to New Romulus for a proper burial," Decius added. "He was not a perfect man, but then again who is? And you, Captain McBride?"
"Oh, hopefully after we whoop some Terran ass, I'll be findin' myself out there, thatta way or abouts," the human replied, thumbing in a random direction. "But, the SF's not scheduled to leave the system until tomorrow and I think that gives the three of us enough time to toast our victory. Drinks on me."
"You had me at me not paying."
"You are aware," K'Vok stated, "that Klingons and Romulans can tolerate alcohol better than humans?"
"Precisely why I am only purchasing one drink and one drink only per the each of us," McBride said as he gestured towards what appeared to be a bar directly across from the Great Hall. "Besides, not like we can get into any more trouble..."
|
|