Topic: The Empress of the Empire

[FPF-SCM_TraceyG_XC]

PROLOGUE


The blackened sky erupted with lightning, dark storm clouds looming over the craggy mountain tops. Thunder rolled across the valley encircled by bleak hill tops. In the centre, a bleak plane howled with the chilling wind, biting to the core of the small group of humanoids huddled in hovels and remains of an alien structure in bad need of repair. Dark vines intertwined their way through fissures in the concrete walls allowing the elements to enter.
Inside, a large room with an earthen floor was lit by a large fire in the middle. Scruffy, clad in animal hides, the humanoids huddled together silently around the fire. Roasting on the fire was the remains of an indigenous reptile that emitted a pungent odour. The rations they had found in another room had run out long ago, this was all they had now.

When the food first ran out, they waited for more to be brought, hoping that the Pale Ones would return. The Pale Ones would bring them food everyday, in fact, had brought them food for every day of their lives that they could remember. Until one day they disappeared. The Pale Ones never returned. They searched everywhere inside the structure for more of the little blue boxes they had been eating from, but there were no more. Hunger eventually drove them outside and some of the older ones set off in search of food.
Days went by and there was no word, just the howl of the wind for company. They began to grow weak and listless. Finally their brethren returned carrying the bodies of some large scaly creatures. Some of the little ones had become sick when first eating the meat, the ones with pointed ears. The ones with the ridges across their brow feasted on the flesh and became strong. The smooth faced ones learned to roast the flesh first in the fire, and then it became edible. Even still, some of the little ones did not survive and this brought great distress to the rest as they lay dieing. No words were spoken, but they all felt the pain of death.

Life went on, in this place, the only place they had ever known, their only home. The wind and rain soon began to tear it down around them. The smooth faced ones devised ways of keeping the elements out, and the warmth in. The ridge headed ones hunted for food everyday. The pointed ears ones attempted to decipher the purpose of the strange items and machinery discovered elsewhere within the structure. At the end of the day, they would all gather back in this room, huddle around the fire, eat, and then sleep. One of the smooth faced ones picked out the lizard remains from the fire and wrapped it up in a green leafy parchment. They had discovered that the large green leaves of the taller trees kept the meat edible for a few more days before it rotted.

The wind began to pick up outside ever so louder. The pointed ear ones noticed it first, the pitch of the wind was different somehow, a steady whine that gradually ascended into a roar. The ground trembled with a dull thud as the sound of an impact on the ground came distinctively from outside. One of the ridgeheads scrambled up the outer wall to peer through a crack near the ceiling. Turning back to his brethren, he looked to one of the pointy eared ones. No words were spoken, but seconds later the ridgehead nodded, and they all moved as one taking up positions around and behind the door. The little ones took cover beneath their bedding.
The sound of several footsteps became audible crunching on gravel beyond the door and the door handle began to move.
A voice from outside said, "I'm reading life signs in here".
As the door opened, the young ridghead poised to leap upon the intruder. In the doorway stood a giant, taller than any humanoid they had ever seen before. Taller even than the Pale Ones, which these creatures were certainly not. One of the little ones cried out in fear and mayhem ensued. The older ones rushed at the giants, flinging dirt and dust up into the air. The little ones cowered in fear and panic. Beams of orange light accompanied by a high pitched sound lanced out from something in the hands of the giants, and one by one, they fell to the ground. Shaking in fright, one of the little ones watched on in horror as one of the giants moved closer to where she was hiding. It was holding some device in one hand that had flashing lights and made a whirring sound. Large hands on long outstretched arms reached down to grab her. She screamed.

In the captain's quarter's of the USS Australia, TraceyG awoke with a start and sat upright, beads of sweat glistening on her temple. She surveyed her quarters, but only four walls and a star field through the portal stared back at her. The intercom chimed on her bedside table.
?TraceyG here?.
The image of the ship?s Medical Officer appeared on the comm. Screen.
?Captain, are you ok, the computer reports your respiration and heart rate are way above normal levels.?
?I?ll be fine.? She rubbed her temples.
?Another nightmare? Same as before again?? asked the Chief Medical Officer.
?Yes, the same one. I?ll be fine, really, TraceyG out.?
She rose from the bed and stepped across her quarters to the bathroom. Operating the water faucet she leaned over to splash water on her face. Resting her elbows momentarily on the surface of the water reclamation chute, she looked down and paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. When she stood up, there was a figure standing behind her, the reflection in the mirror clear and present. Her eyes widened, as the recognized the face that stared back at her. Not quite the same, the Klingon ridges and darker complexion were different, and the eyes a different colour. Nevertheless, the features were sufficiently similar that she recognized them as almost being her own. She whirled around to face the intruder.
?Who are you? How did you get in here?? she asked.
The Klingon woman stood in full battle dress staring back at her, studying her. Seconds later, with a blood curdling warcry, her assailant brandished a bat?leth from behind her back and in the confines of the small cubicle, still managed to heft it up into the air and thrust forward. The tip of the weapon pierced TraceyG?s stomach, plunging through her abdomen. The blade slick with blood protruded momentarily before her back before the wielder of the weapon withdrew it with a sickening, sucking sound of emaciated internal organs. TraceyG opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out.

In the captain's quarter's of the USS Australia, TraceyG awoke with a start and sat upright, beads of sweat glistening on her temple. Clutching at her abdomen, she felt for the wound that she thought had just killed her. The intercom chimed on her bedside table.



To be continued?.

[Hexx]

 

Looking forward to the rest.

hmmmm

So we'll have "Empress of the Empire" (Tracey)
                   "Queens of Q'onoS " (Kroma and Dizzy)


Just need one more...

[Green]

Hermaphrodites of H'Atoria ... led by Hexx.

In an alternate timeline, Worf was governor of H'Atoria in 2395.

[Soreyes]

"Queens of Q'onoS " (Kroma and Dizzy)

 

[Hexx]

Hermaphrodites of H'Atoria ... led by Hexx.

In an alternate timeline, Worf was governor of H'Atoria in 2395.

You are SUCH a geek...

[FPF-SCM_TraceyG_XC]

CHAPTER ONE

?As best as I can tell, you?re as fit as a fiddle, with the exception of a few extra pounds. I?m putting you on a salad vegetable diet for the rest of the week.?
TraceyG rose from the diagnostics bed in Sickbay.

?Thanks, Doc.? replied the captain dryly.

?Of course, with your mixed blood, I can?t be one hundred percent sure. But all the readings are in your normal range, normal for you that is.? continued the ship?s Chief Medical Officer.

?I?d like to run a few more brain scans though, just to be sure.?

The doctor attached two small devices, one to each each of the captain?s temples and began watching a readout on a monitor.

?Really, I?m fine, it was just a very vivid dream, that?s all.? remarked TraceyG.

?It could be a recurrence of the dreams you had after the Lyran implants were removed.?
speculated the doctor.
TraceyG looked solemnly into space.

?Its been almost a year now since then.? she said in a quiet tone, casting her mind back to her capture by Lyran forces and the mind altering procedure that placed her in command of a Lyran starship fighting alongside Coalition forces. Many a Federation starship fell to the mockingly painted Federation blue Lyran Democracy Battlecruiser during the ensuing battle. Her recovery by elite Federation Protection Fleet officers proved to be successful, but the memories lived on in dreams, dreams of her life as the Huntress of Lyra.

?These are different; I haven?t any dreams of Lyra in over six months now.? she said.

?Different in what way?? asked the doctor still watching the readout.

?Well, it feels like I?m reliving a memory, but its not a memory. The dreams contain images of? childhood. But it?s not my childhood.?

The doctor frowned at the monitor.

?Your hippocampus is showing increased neural synaptic activity, 200% over a human, but normal for a Betazoid. A full blooded Betazoid, that is, which you are not.? informed the doctor.

?My grandmother was Betazoid. You know that.? remarked the captain.

?And your grandfather was a Vulcan, interesting mixture. I?d like to know how the hell that happened.? exclaimed the doctor.

The intercom whistled on the wall just then.

?Bridge to Captain TraceyG.? TraceyG thumbed the comm button.

?TraceyG here.?

?Priority message coming in from Starfleet Command, it?s Admiral Hooch. The Klingons? they?re preparing for war.?

?On my way.?

Moments later, TraceyG stepped out onto the bridge of the USS Australia. The First Officer vacated the centre seat as she smoothly glided into it.

?Put him on screen, Lieutenant.?

The image of Admiral Hooch appeared on the main viewer.

?Hello Tracey, it seems the Klingons are preparing for war.?

?Who with?? asked the captain.

?Themselves this time, godamnit, and its about time too. I can?t say I?m going to loose any sleep over the Klingons beating each other up over this. But that?s not all. Our intel indicates there are three houses vying for control of the Empire, and one of them is led by a woman.? informed Hooch.

?I thought that was prohibited in Klingon law for a female to become Chancellor.? remarked TraceyG.

?You are correct? replied Hooch with his gravely voice. ?There?s a new faction, a change of leadership in the House of S?uhn?ih. The old regent died and his daughter and taken his place. Apparently, all the sons of K?jh?nn are unfit for command and T?rahy?ih has taken over. The other houses are in an uproar. But wait, there?s more. Section 31 acquired these images of the new regent just a few days ago.?

Hooch?s face was replaced on the viewscreen by the image of a Klingon heiress in full battle uniform. TraceyG stared at the image. The jaws of the bridge crew slowly dropped. The face of the new regent, sans klingon ridges, was the spitting image of their own Captain.

?My God,? TraceyG whispered. ?It?s her, the one I saw in my dreams.?



To be continued....

[Dizzy]

...

Hooch?s face was replaced on the viewscreen by the image of a Klingon heiress in full battle uniform. TraceyG stared at the image. The jaws of the bridge crew slowly dropped. The face of the new regent, sans klingon ridges, was the spitting image of their own Captain.

?My God,? TraceyG whispered. ?It?s her, the one I saw in my dreams.?



To be continued....

Hehehe. Ya'll had sex didntcha? U and dat Klink woman. Heh. I knew it. Youz jest a lezban. All dis time.

[Hexx]

...

Hooch?s face was replaced on the viewscreen by the image of a Klingon heiress in full battle uniform. TraceyG stared at the image. The jaws of the bridge crew slowly dropped. The face of the new regent, sans klingon ridges, was the spitting image of their own Captain.

?My God,? TraceyG whispered. ?It?s her, the one I saw in my dreams.?



To be continued....

Hehehe. Ya'll had sex didntcha? U and dat Klink woman. Heh. I knew it. Youz jest a lezban. All dis time.

Poor Dizzy.
Being Kroma's "underling" on KCW means you're not going to have any time for your lesbian fantasies...

[Strafer]

Doesn't Kroma take requests? I thought I heard something about that....

[Green]

Hermaphrodites of H'Atoria ... led by Hexx.

In an alternate timeline, Worf was governor of H'Atoria in 2395.

You are SUCH a geek...

Trust me, I tried and tried to think of a klingon word that started w/ H.  Finally gave up and did a google search.

[Dizzy]

Poor Dizzy.
Being Kroma's "underling" on KCW means you're not going to have any time for your lesbian fantasies...

Nah, what's more important is how you ended up getting more karma than me... htf did that happen?

[Hexx]

Good posts


<---- J'inn posts - Highes rating cuz, well laughing at his expense makes us all feel a little better about ourselves.


<---- Chuut's Posts - Although his verbal wit is somewhat...lacking you've got to admire the things he can do with photoshop


<---- Hexx's posts- witty, entertaining, containing the wisdom of the ages - or at least containing humour usually (well always)
                          at my own expense. Something to do with the general lack of respect my flying skills command I suspect..

<-----Kroma's posts - occassionally funny, often dark and disturbing and probably better left unread, but anyone who publicly admits to being a Cub's fan has
                             to have great big ones.


<----- The vast majority of the great unwashed posts fall in here


<----- Madelf falls in here somewhere

<----- Likkerpigs weird fetish posts go in here, very often far more disturbing than anyone wants to know, still done with flashes of insight and comic brilliance.
        (many of his posts of course would be rated higher than mine-It's just my list so he gets put down here)


<------ Trolling posts

<----- Actually i think I'll put Madelf in here

<------ Posts on the political situation of the US (or any other country)




<------  "Hehehe. Ya'll had sex didntcha? U and dat Klink woman. Heh. I knew it. Youz jest a lezban. All dis time" posts



<----- Actually there is someone who's posts would be down here, but it would kinda defeat the point of  making fun of you to list someone after you....

[KBFLordKrueg]

Hermaphrodites of H'Atoria ... led by Hexx.

In an alternate timeline, Worf was governor of H'Atoria in 2395.

You are SUCH a geek...

Trust me, I tried and tried to think of a klingon word that started w/ H.  Finally gave up and did a google search.

 Ha'DIbaH HoH (Animal for Killing) 

[alfman]

<----- Actually there is someone who's posts would be down here, but it would kinda defeat the point of  making fun of you to list someone after you....

I know that I bath so he must be talking about me. Castle against Hexx 1 time and he never forgets it.

[Hexx]

Hermaphrodites of H'Atoria ... led by Hexx.

In an alternate timeline, Worf was governor of H'Atoria in 2395.

You are SUCH a geek...

Trust me, I tried and tried to think of a klingon word that started w/ H.  Finally gave up and did a google search.

 Ha'DIbaH HoH (Animal for Killing) 

.......

Hell I'll willingly surrender to anyone who can pronounce that over TS

[Villa64]

LOL!!

I troll here often.  But I love Greens new sig.

Trust me, a civil war is a great idea!

Sound strategic advice!

LOL!

Villa

[Hexx]

<----- Actually there is someone who's posts would be down here, but it would kinda defeat the point of  making fun of you to list someone after you....

I know that I bath so he must be talking about me. Castle against Hexx 1 time and he never forgets it.

You never forget your first.. 

[Dizzy]

Hexx, you're ok in my book. + Karma for ya.

[FPF-SCM_TraceyG_XC]

CHAPTER TWO

The chamber was dimly lit by flickering wall sconces that hung from a double row of central stone pillars that ran the length of the room. The high arched ceiling was shrouded in darkness, save for the macabre shadows that danced across the beams cast by firelight. Large double doors of hardwood bound in iron were the only feature at one end of the chamber while the other was dominated was stepped dais set in an alcove. In the centre of the dais was an ornate high backed chair that was vacant. Either side of the main doors stood two very large Klingon guards, armed with ceremonial pole arms.
 Several loud raps on the doors from the other side echoed throughout the chamber. The guards opened the doors and a Klingon warrior entered. Dressed in military garb, no adorning badges of House or station were visible, only his rank insignia. The rank of captain. The guards ushered him in and closed the doors behind him with a resounding clang. The Klingon captain strode down the centre of the chamber towards the vacant dais. As he approached, a concealed entryway opened behind the large ornate chair on the dais, and a number hooded figures wearing plain brown robes silently filed into the room single file. The klingon captain cleared his throat.

?I am??

?We know who you are.? cut off one of the robed figures in a male voice.

?I have come here to??

?To pledge your allegiance to the House of S?uhn?ih.? cut off another robed figure.
The Klingon captain was silent for a moment, then continued.

?I have??

?Three Klingon Battlecruisers at your disposal.? finished another robed figure.

This time the captain remained silent. The hooded figure which first spoke stepped forward, and said,

?To whom do you serve??

The Klingon captain replied. ?I serve no one. I am a Klingon warrior! I will pledge my allegiance but I am no??

?PetaQ!?

One of the guards standing behind the captain raised his polearm to strike the Klingon, but before the blow landed, a hooded figure standing to one side raised one hand. The guard stepped back retaking his place. The hooded figure rounded the others to stand directly in front of the Klingon captain and slowly, gracefully, swept back the hood of her robe. Long dark strands of dark hair cascaded over her shoulders as the hood revealed her identity. The furrows of the ridges on her forehead were not as deep as most Klingons. Her eyes were jet black, intense and piercing, burrowing through the soul of the Klingon captain as he stood transfixed.
She outstretched one hand and held it over the face of the Klingon. His face became impassive, his eyes glazed over. Her hand followed his face downwards as slowly his knees began to buckle and his body sank. When kneeling before her, she spoke.

?To whom do you serve?? Her voice was soft, sultry, yet firm and commanding.
The Klingon captain replied in a monotone.

?I serve you, my liege.?

?You will pledge your honour, your loyalty, your obedience, your life, your soul, to me.?

?My life is forfeit, as are the lives of my crew. I am yours to command. I will obey. Death before dishonour.? replied the Klingon captain.
She held her hand over his head a moment longer, studying him. Withdrawing her hand, she proclaimed.

?This one is true.?

She stepped back and directed him to rise. The Klingon?s eyes began to blink as he slowly stood up and shook his head as if coming out of a daze. T?rahy?ih, ruler of the House of S?uhn?ih, walked up the steps of the dais and sat down in the ornate chair, lounging to one side.

?Of course he is, he is of the Black Fleet.? spoke the first hooded figure, who now stepped forward.

?This is my second in command, Shadow Six. You will receive your orders from him.? commanded T?rahy?ih. Shadow Six also swept back his hood. The Klingon captain?s eyes widened with recognition as he looked upon the face that was revealed.

?My Lord? it is you? by the sword of Kahless? had I known?? said the captain.

?Speak not of this, but the time will come, and soon. You were wise to come here. Return to your ship and await further instructions.? said Shadow Six.

?Yes, my Lord. May our enemies rot in Gre?thor!? the Klingon captain turned and bowed before T?rahy?ih, waiting.

?You have my leave, warrior.? she directed.

?It is an honour to serve, my liege.?



To be continued....

[C-Los]

 Excellent TG.....

 Karma for You... Empress !   

[Hexx]

Hexx, you're ok in my book. + Karma for ya.

Really?


And yet I actually gained a negative Karma point...
How odd..

Still I'll applaud your attempt at deceitful backstabbing <bastiche>
and award you some actual positive Karma so that you may one day actually get kinda close to my my exalted level of karmaism.

[madelf]

Good posts

<---- J'inn posts - Highes rating cuz, well laughing at his expense makes us all feel a little better about ourselves.

<---- Chuut's Posts - Although his verbal wit is somewhat...lacking you've got to admire the things he can do with photoshop

<---- Hexx's posts- witty, entertaining, containing the wisdom of the ages - or at least containing humour usually (well always)
                          at my own expense. Something to do with the general lack of respect my flying skills command I suspect..

<-----Kroma's posts - occassionally funny, often dark and disturbing and probably better left unread, but anyone who publicly admits to being a Cub's fan has
                             to have great big ones.

<----- The vast majority of the great unwashed posts fall in here

<----- Madelf falls in here somewhere

<----- Likkerpigs weird fetish posts go in here, very often far more disturbing than anyone wants to know, still done with flashes of insight and comic brilliance.
        (many of his posts of course would be rated higher than mine-It's just my list so he gets put down here)

<------ Trolling posts

<----- Actually i think I'll put Madelf in here

<------ Posts on the political situation of the US (or any other country)

<------  "Hehehe. Ya'll had sex didntcha? U and dat Klink woman. Heh. I knew it. Youz jest a lezban. All dis time" posts

<----- Actually there is someone who's posts would be down here, but it would kinda defeat the point of  making fun of you to list someone after you....

Day 1 of KCW...

MadElf: Hexx, ya assign yourself that C7 yet?

Hexx(Whimpering): yeah.

MadElf: Great.  Let's see what it can do...

4 minutes later

MadElf: Hey Hexx, what ship did you get as a replacement?   Lemme find anybody in my house to take that from ya too....

and so on, and so on, and so on...

Hope ya like E3B Hexx

[Hexx]

Ddin't you read the rules??

I (think) if I can get you simps fine gentlemen to vote me for a house leader I
CAN'T BE CHALLENGED!!!!!!!!!
I mean sure Kroma /Dizzy and Tracey can smack me around but that I can deal with..

[Julin Eurthyr]

Actually, I thought that the house leaders were more-or-less restricted to fighting other house leaders most of the time and once a week could be challenged by the underlings that wanted to ascend to the house throne...

[Hexx]

Exactly

That's the brilliance of my plan.

Say I draft madelf, Dogmatix, Skull and J'inn.
Let's face it - I'm going to be challenged for leadership on day one by everyone in the house.
But I only have to accept one challenge.
AND I get to assign (and transfer) the ships.
So everyone challenges me, I accept J'inns challenge.
I assign myself a C7, Jinn a F5 (I'm not taking any chances)
In theory I should win (or at least tie)
And I'm immune to challenges for a whole week!

By which time any house I lead will have fallen, so I won't have to worry about it anymore!!

Pure Genius.

[K'Hexx]

CHAPTER THREE

The Knife slid from its sheath without a sound as the Klingon warriors entered the intersection of corridors outside the observation lounge.  Even had there been a noise the intoxicated warriors would likely have missed it, thought the figure in the shadows.  They were obviously quite drunk singing and half holding each other up as they came to a stop at the intersection. 

"I must see to the final preparations brother" said Krelg the younger of the two. 

"See to yourself first, and sober up" replied Kas, the older, "I don't need you tinkering around in the engine room when you can't see straight." 

"Don't worry, I know my engines like my sword, drunk or sober", laughed Krelg

"In that case make sure to get drunk before every battle, as I've seen your sober swordsmanship", Kas teased.  "Now be off, I want to depart with sunrise."

As his brother and chief engineer departed, Kas staggered into the observation room to look down at his ship Demon Claw in the shipyards outside the starbase.  A step up from his old bird of prey for sure.  He was entranced by its lines and abilities, changing his alliance away from his familiy's ancestral liege House S'uhn'ih was a small price to pay for such a ship. 

The assumption of T'rahy'ih and her putting forth her claim to the Chancellorship had been adequate excuse to maintain honor.  Females were forbidden the office of Chancellor by Klingon Law and no Klingon would be looked down on for failing to honor obligations owed to a  House S'uhn'ih lead by T'rahy'ih. 

Of course Kas knew even if S'uhn'ih had a male leader he would have defected for the sake of Demon Claw, but he put those slightly disturbing thoughts aside and went over to the observation portal to study his ship more closely.

"Your claws will pierce far into House S'uhn'ih my Demon?" , Kas muttered aloud.  "Surprise will be ours and we shall be the secret wolf in the fold, none of House S'uhn'ih will stand before our onslaught!"

The prick of a blade at his throat interrupted Kas's exultation in the wink of an eye.  A cold unfeeling voice was suddenly at his ear.

"Perhaps, none will stand before you, but one does indeed stand behind you traitorous Targ!", whispered the voice.

Kas had no doubt who that voice belonged to.  Not a vassal of House S'uhn'ih was unaware of that feared killer's  tone.  A very un-Klingon shiver went down Kas's back, as memories of K'rh'ht son of K'jh'nn  flooded his consciousness in search for some way out of his situation.

But his fears out weighted his hopes, for K'rh'ht was perhaps the sharpest sword that T'rahy'ih had to wield, if he could be wielded at all.  The youngest child of House S'uhn'ih was undeniably psychotic, as the deaths of many retainers of House S'uhn'ih for the slightest offense had shown.  How many alliances had this killer shattered by dueling or assassinating vassals and prospective allies over such things as a delayed bow or a misinterpreted word.  One rumor  was that he had even killed his wet nurse at the age of seven; another that he could kill with only a look.  There were other rumors as well, they seemed to follow K'rh'rt like a rabid Targ.  Small wonder that K'jn'nn had finally had him locked up in the old fortress above the family crypts, to keep him out of harms way, using him when necessary like a weapon.  Apparently T'rahy'ih had decided to unsheathe her dangerous brother, and like a Klingon blade once unsheathed death would follow.

Kas knew there was no hope to escape, but perhaps he could bargin with the mentally unstable K'rh'rt.

"I was merely baiting a trap for our enemies, I would have informed your sister as soon as we got away from the prying eyes on the starbase."  "I pledge my loyalty and service to House S'uhn'ih on my life and that of my family for 3 generations", Kas pleaded.

The voice was once again in his ear, a whisper from the Crypts of S'uhn'ih.  "But why should I need such a pledge when I can have the same on your death?"

"If you kill me you wont get Demon Claw and the other ships of my family, and its ships that House S'uhn'ih needs", argued Kas suddenly emboldened by his own logic and knowledge of House S'uhn'ih's limited resources.

"Wrong, after I kill you the ships will be ours, and you will deliver them yourself", replied the icy voice.

Kas was suddenly spun around to face  K'rh'rt.  As he looked into  K'rh'rt's steady eyes he felt the killer's left hand grip his quivering face.  The right hand still held the blade at his throat so he dared not move as the left hand splayed out to cover his face between the nose and ears.  Kas felt a sudden sensation in his mind as if he were being sucked out of his body.  Kas looked one last time at K'rh'rt as instinctive fear took hold,  just in time to see his assassin smile before his heart suddenly stopped beating.

K'rh'rt, still smiling, gathered up the corpse of the fallen warrior making sure to handle it carefully.  He would need a healthy and unmarked body to finish his assignment.  No signs of coercion would call into question Kas's sudden resurgence of loyalty to House S'uhn'ih. 

An hour later the Valkyrie appeared at the starbase.  K'rh'rt was glad to see his sister's ship arrive on time.  Kas's cowardly memories were quite a disturbing companion and he would be rid of them as soon as possible.  Not that there was any danger, as his Betazoid heritage allowed him a certain amount of mental control as long as he could keep his strong Klingon emotions in check.  He could take and hold what he referred to as "The Breath" of his victims, but lacked the discipline and training to restore them, that only T'rahy'ih could do acting as a conduit for the transfer of  "The Breath". 

Soon T'rahy'ih would complete the transfer and take measures to assure Kas's loyalty.  And if he proved traitorous again, K'rh'rt would be allowed the pleasure of using his blade to kill Kas a second time, and K'rh'rt really preferred the blade as his weapon.  Once again the smile returned to K'rh?rt's face as he allowed the pleasant image to fill his thoughts as he was beamed aboard the Valkyrie.

[Green]

Nice read Kerehent 

[FPF-Aurora]

 

[K'Hexx]

Thank you Green and Aurora.

Grodon, my pet tribble, told me it was good too.  But then again little Grodon is such a sweet furry little thing he always purrs at my writings, usually before he tells me to go kill someone......

[FPF-DieHard]

Grodon, my pet tribble,    . . .

Who's the smartass, that's my IM name!!!   

[Dizzy]

Actually hexx, I did give u a +karna. You have a negative detractor it seems. Somewhere... Someone... How is that possible?

[KAT J'inn]

Grodon, my pet tribble,    . . .

Who's the smartass, that's my IM name!!!   

<snicker>

Ain't moi.   But I have acquired the information, of course.   Let's talk cash.

[FPF-SCM_TraceyG_XC]

CHAPTER FOUR

The shuttlecraft from the USS Australia gently touched down. The landing facilities were fairly small here compared with standard space ports, one main building, a few outlying structures, a dilithium refueller, and a car park. Captain TraceyG exited the shuttlecraft and took a moment to breath in the crisp, fresh air, a welcome change from the constantly recycled atmosphere of a starship. The warm sun beat down on the tarmac, heat haze causing the air to shimmer under clear, blue azure skies. In the distance, a canopy of gum trees and dry green eucalypts ringed the base in contrast to the reddish brown dusty soil on the ground.
After briefly checking in with the port?s security, she was escorted to the car park by a junior ensign.

?We don?t often get many starship captains out this way, ma?am. It?s usually pretty quiet around here.? commented the ensign.

?How did you end up with a posting in Outback Australia?? asked TraceyG, indulging the ensign in small talk as they walked.

?Well, I ticked off some senior Admiral when I, errr? got too friendly with his daughter.? The ensign replied a little embarrassed.

?Here you go, ma?am. Just as requested. I need to get you to sign this requisition order.? said the junior ensign pointing to the waiting ground vehicle and handing TraceyG the datapad.

?Thankyou, Ensign? errrr.?

?Ensign Maverick, ma?am.? exclaimed the young cadet a little too enthusiastically.

She signed the datapad and handed it back.

?I don?t get it though, ma?am. Why don?t you just beam down to where you?re going, it would save so much time. This kind of transport has been outdated for centuries.? enquired Ensign Maverick.

TraceyG looked the ground vehicle over from one end to the other, admiring the sleek lines. She layed one hand on the bonnet and gently smiled.

?I mean, this thing doesn?t even hover, it actually uses treaded wheels.? continued the ensign.

TraceyG looked over at the ensign, taking out a pair of dark sunglasses and the vehicle?s control module from her pocket. Putting on the sunglasses, she activated the vehicle?s controls. The roof began to disappear section by section until the vehicle became a convertible.

?There are some things in life, ensign, which are timeless.? Vaulting over the car door into the driver?s seat, she fired up the vehicle?s engine, smiled back at Maverick, and with a screech of rubber on bitumen, the vehicle moved off accelerating rapidly, leaving the ensign standing in a cloud of dust.

It had been over ten years since TraceyG had been back in Australia, but the road that led to her hometown was just as familiar as always. Adjusting the environmental controls, the vehicle?s sound system began emitting an ancient form of classical Earth music once known as ?rock? from the 20th and 21st centuries in its original digital form. The nefarious tones of a band called ?AC/DC? blared loudly from the speakers. Her long dark hair waved occasionally out behind her in the slipstream of rushing air from the windshield. The dry, arid landscape of red dusty loam passed by at an ever increasing speed; the whine of the engine turbines taking on a deeper roar as she opened up the throttle. Were it not for the vegetation, this place could easily mistaken for any desert plane on Mars.
Up ahead in the road was a dry river bed crossing. Every December, the summer monsoon rains would cause main rivers to flood, breaking their banks. The overflow would run down perennial streams like a mini tsunami eventually to wash away into the flood plain beyond. The river bed was dry now though, this time of year, however the road had to bank sharply downwards in order to traverse it. TraceyG eyed the oncoming embankment and pressed down harder on the accelerator. Nearing the riverbed, she steered the vehicle to the left hitting a rising a ditch pushing it upwards. The vehicle came away from the ground lifting up into the air, leaving a trail of dust and debre as it careened through the air. With a loud thud, the vehicle landed on the other side of the riverbed, bounced twice, then came to rest as TraveyG pulled on the hand break in a cloud of thick red soil. When the dust had cleared, she rose up out of the seat to look back at the river crossing.
?Yes!? she said out allowed smiling. She had always wanted to do that.
When she finally reached town, she drove slowly down the main street, taking in the familiar sights. Not much had changed in this quiet town. Turning off, she headed for the cemetery, her first port of call.
Parking the vehicle, she made her way through the cemetery gates, occasionally glancing at some of the headstones along the way. Some of them had been here for centuries. Soon she spied the one she was looking for. Surrounded by a small wrought iron fence, the buriel mound was showing signs of weed overgrowth. The headstone was simple, looking a little weathered since last she saw it. She stood for a moment, lost in thought looking on the grave of her mother. Activating a personal transporter buffer on her belt, A bouqet of red gerberas appeared in her hands, her mother?s favourite. She bent down and gently placed them by the headstone, taking the opportunity to remove a few weeds. Such as she was, lost in thought, that when she heard the loud cough come from behind her, she was momentarily startled. She stood up and turned around to face the man standing behind her.

?Dad!!? she exclaimed.

?Hello daughter, its good to see you.? said her father.

?How did you know I was here?? she asked as she stepped forward to give her father a hug.

?Even retired Starfleet admirals still have privileges. I was informed of your flight plan this afternoon, and I knew you?d come here.? he replied.

?I was going to surprise you.? she said

They both stood somberly for a moment, looking upon the grave of mother and wife.

?She would have been very proud of you, were she alive today, you know.? said her father.

?I never did understand why the Vulcan consulate allowed her to be buried.? commented Tracey.

?This was her home, after all, its where she wanted her final resting place to be.? her father said.

?Vulcans are not known for their bending of rules, Dad.?

Tracey?s father looked at her gravely.

?Well, your mother was never actually a Vulcan ambassador. In fact, she wasn?t even part of the consulate.? He produced a small datapad from his jacket pocket and handed it to Tracey.

?Your mother wanted you to have this, when the time was right. I think that time is now. It will explain everything.?

TraceyG looked down at the datapad, in wonder.

?Anyway, come on back to the house for some afternoon tea. Time you got some real food into you, none of that synthesized stuff.?

Taking one last look at her mother?s grave, Tracey began to wonder just what exactly had been left behind for her all these years. She turned to following her beckoning father,



To be continued?.

[ShadowSix]

You tell the story well, My Lady.

[K'Hexx]

Grodon, my pet tribble,    . . .

Who's the smartass, that's my IM name!!!   

Well Die Hard would have been a silly name for a tribble. 

[Hexx]

Grodon, my pet tribble,    . . .

Who's the smartass, that's my IM name!!!   

Well Die Hard would have been a silly name for a tribble. 

It's a pretty silly name for a player as well...

[FPF-DieHard]

Grodon, my pet tribble,    . . .

Who's the smartass, that's my IM name!!!   

Well Die Hard would have been a silly name for a tribble. 

It's a pretty silly name for a player as well...

hexx, you might as well change yours to "Die Easy"   

[el-Karnak]

Grodon, my pet tribble,    . . .

Who's the smartass, that's my IM name!!!   

Well Die Hard would have been a silly name for a tribble. 

It's a pretty silly name for a player as well...

hexx, you might as well change yours to "Die Easy"   

 

[DAnahos_XC]

Grodon, my pet tribble,    . . .

Who's the smartass, that's my IM name!!!   

Well Die Hard would have been a silly name for a tribble. 

It's a pretty silly name for a player as well...

hexx, you might as well change yours to "Die Easy"

Almost spit out my Diet Mountain Dew when I read that one.

Thanks for the grin : - )

PS Great writing TraceyG/Kerehent 


/back to lurking mode, activate cloak

[Julin Eurthyr]

Meanwhile...

Concordia, some unidentifiable hallway...

Julin walks alone down the hallway to his boss's office.  The intel department he quietly worked for, and the source of his "ambassadorial" missions, rarely required his direct presence, so it was a shock when the office called him back from the front, and requested the presence of all 4 bodies...
So, after the long walk down the armed corridor he designed and mandated, Julin enters the office of his superiors.  The Meeskeen leader of Intel was one of the largest, and therefore oldest, members of the species.

"Sir, Admiral Eurthyr reporting as ordered.  Question, why is my direct presence required here when I should be getting ready to monitor the situation with the Klingon civil war?"

The Meeskeen clears his throat, and intones "You are about to be cosmetically altered, and placed right into the middle of their war."

Julin's face(s) blanch, as the large frog continues "There is a minor house on their coreward border, goes by the name Kinshaya.  While the house has been all but forgotten about, it has become the perfect place to actually touch off the conflict."

Catching on to his superior's intent, Julin continues, telepathically, "and you have already arrainged things so that I, altered to look like a Klingon, shall be in charge of this house.  Alright, who shall be my inside contact to assist me in this matter?"

"Well," and the frog takes his turn blanching, "we haven't been able to arrainge a suitable Klingon to that that role, there are no Klingons left in the house Kinshaya, it's truly a dead house, though the Klingon administration has never closed it, so it was an available name."

"Alright," the Julin's respond in telepathic unison, "Who shall be my contact?  An esteemed Concordian plant, who?"

"Here's the dossier on your contact.  Do not read it until your en-route to the Klingon Empire to assume control of your house."  Julin is handed a data chip, which he has sent, by priority courier, to his ship.  Julin leaves for his cosmetic surgery...

Hours later, on the bridge of the captured Klingon vessel IKV Thundercracker
"VARKIN!!!"
"What, Admiral?"
"This is a cosmic joke, right?"
"What are you talking about?" Varkin, the XO, is obviously disoriented by this line of questioning...
"Command's choice of my house XO in this next operation", Julin responds, rotating the panel over so that Varkin can see the name, "I get a Lyran, of all people, and strict orders that I can't act Klingon and use him as my scapegoat."
"Sir, may I point out," Varkin says correctively, knowing full well how Julin acts when he's upset, "You are allowed to blame Hexx for everything you want to.  You just aren't allowed to kill him."
"But comeon, you know that saying, when on Klinzhia, t-bomb like a Klink..."
"Even you must be reminded of our overall goal here, Admiral.  But I do feel sorry for you.  At least they've been giving you Bat'leh lessions.  Speaking of which, aren't you due for another one?"
"Yes Commander, you are correct as always."  Julin turns to leave the office, muttering under his breath "Darn executive officers..."
"Sir, a recommendation, use Hexx as your inspiration during training today..."

[Hexx]

Grodon, my pet tribble,    . . .

Who's the smartass, that's my IM name!!!   

Well Die Hard would have been a silly name for a tribble. 

It's a pretty silly name for a player as well...

hexx, you might as well change yours to "Die Easy"   

If that wasn't actually funny I think I'd be hurt....



Bastard..

[KAT Chuut-Ritt]

Seems like a logical name to me

Tribbles are soft cuddly, yet hated by Klingons, and reproduce at any opportunity.....

Sounds like Die Hard to me........

[KBF-Dogmatix_XC]

Seems like a logical name to me

Tribbles are soft cuddly, yet hated by Klingons, and reproduce at any opportunity.....

Sounds like Die Hard to me........

Hmmm...never thought of DH as the soft, cuddly type...but perhaps you're on to something here...

[Hexx]

No you've got it all wrong Dog

DH is the big cuddly type, really nice guy.

I remember once on GW3 when we were fighting and my ship failed a HET, DH just towed me off the map
as kind as can be.


No wait...

[FPF-DieHard]

No you've got it all wrong Dog

DH is the big cuddly type, really nice guy.

I remember once on GW3 when we were fighting and my ship failed a HET, DH just towed me off the map
as kind as can be.


No wait...

I put your crew out of their misery, how could I have been any nicer 

[KAT Chuut-Ritt]

Seems like a logical name to me

Tribbles are soft cuddly, yet hated by Klingons, and reproduce at any opportunity.....

Sounds like Die Hard to me........

Hmmm...never thought of DH as the soft, cuddly type...but perhaps you're on to something here...

Gotta remember he does babysit for 3 year olds, and even passes out pics of the Kid saying how cute he is over MSN Messenger, just like an Auntie.

[FPF-SCM_TraceyG_XC]

CHAPTER FIVE

?Why do you come here, my Lady??

She turned around to see her Exec entering the courtyard. She waited until he was standing by her side before replying.

?I come here to think, to get away from the noise.?

T?rahy?ih stood in the centre of the courtyard, surrounded by dull grey stone walls rising up to the touch the overcast dark sky. Thick ominous clouds passed overhead. Lying here in rows were the burial mounds of the House S?uhn?ih. She was looking down at the old regant?s resting place, her father?s grave.

?It is unfortunate your father will not see the restoration of our House. He worked all his life for this coming moment?, said Shadow Six.

?Age denied him a warrior?s death, but his klingon soul still rests in Sto?vo?kor. He died in combat, it was his wish?, commented T?rahy?ih, recalling her father?s last hours. He had insisted she challenge him for the right of rule. K?jh?nn was unconvinced his rightful heir was capable, her brother K?rh?rt. The challenge was by mortal combat as is tradition, although rarely are the ancient rules evoked. K?jh?nn knew the only way his daughter could take control of the house was by the challenge ritual. If he did not die, then K?rh?rt would lead.

?Yes, he chose his successor well. I still do not understand why your brother did not challenge. It was his right?, asked Shadow Six.

T?rahy?ih turned to look at her second in command.

?My brother has the gift, just as I do, passed down from my mother. He does not control it very well though, and over the years it has,? she paused for a moment, ?unhinged his mind. He does not feel the victory in the death blow of his enemies anymore. He does not feel anything anymore. He kills without cause or reason. He? feeds from their death. He was never the same after my mother died?, said T?rahy?ih.

?How did she die??, asked Shadow Six.

?K?rh?rt was discovered standing over her body, just staring into space. It was never known why she died.? T?rahy?ih walked over to the grave of her mother beside her father, her exec following in step.

?And these other lifeless husks? Why do you keep them in the ground?? asked Shadow Six.

?Here lies my sister, K?ber?ly. My father had intended for us to rule together, but she never learned the way of the warrior. It is rumoured that one night, she went mad and killed herself. Others say she was murdered. My other brother,? T?rahy?ih continued pointing the next grave,? mysteriously vanished. It is said that he went walkabout one day out into the mountains, and never returned. He always was a wanderer. Several days later, the remains of a body were found at the base of the foothills not far from the citadel, mauled by wild targhs. It was not positively identified but carried the crest of S?uhn?ih.? T?rahy?ih appeared thoughtful for a moment, lost in reverie, but quickly snapped out of it and in a more commanding tone said to her exec,

?So, you have a report for me on House K?mpeng??

?Yes, my lady. The evidence was discovered just as it was intended. The house now lies in dishonour and no warrior will follow their ruler into battle?, reported Shadow Six.

?Excellent, only two houses left to deal with.? T?rahy?ih smirked.

?House Kinshaya has a strong leader, but they are poor in resources. Our intelligence reports that the regent is not very well guarded. None of my men were caught when scouting. The heir to House Kinshaya is young, however. ? continued Shadow Six.

?Interesting.? commented T?rahy?ih.

The doors to the courtyard leading back into the S?uhn?ih citadel began to open, heralding the arrival of a messenger. The klingon strode over quickly and bowed before kneeling down on one knee before T?rahy?ih.

?My lady, the Valkyrie has returned with your brother. He reports a successful mission.?

?Good. Have the Valkyrie remain in orbit. I have another task for my dear brother. Tell him not to sheathe his assassin?s blade just yet.?



To be continued?.

[Hexx]

CHAPTER FIVE

?Age denied him a warrior?s death, ..."

Holy surprising revelations Batman...

[K'Hexx]

K'rh'rt strode forth into the courtyard mere moments behind his messenger stopping in front of his sister. Well aware that Shadow Six was clearly annoyed at his failure to go to one knee in front of the leader of House S'uhn'ih, but well aware of T'rahy'ih's leniency with her brother.
K'rh'rt always enjoyed baiting the elder Klingon pushing the limit of propriety at all opportunities.

"When has my blade ever been sheathed sister?"  smiled K'rh'rt tapping his head with his index finger, "or your own for that matter?"

T'rahy'ih looked at her brother sensing a bit of mockery, with anyone else she could have been certain with a gentle mental probing, but his mind was closed to her.  It wasn't as if any mental shields he could erect could withstand her more disciplined talents, but his thoughts were so strange that conventional explanations of his attitudes and motivations made attempts at deciphering them all but useless.  She had tried to dig deeper into his psyche on several occasions, but stopped long ago finding such attempts futile, exhausting, and quite disturbing.  Fear of losing herself in his psychosis made her resort to her knowledge of psychology when dealing with her "unique" sibling.

The corners of K'rh'rt's mouth twisted up in another cocky smile, he knew his sister was once again trying to figure out his intent with her "psychology", likely thinking and overthinking her way through 100 motivations for each gesture he made.  She understood him better than any living being and had made intuitive guesses that were often near the mark but she could never fully grasp his full intent.  Hardly surprising he thought to himself, the living seldom understood the dead.

"Well lets see, all our traditional allies have been brought in line, Kas, K'thor, K'mal'th, D'Pthar, M'kor'd, and K'bal'ct.....Houses  N'dir, M'st'dt, Kactix, and D'thir are no longer factors.....that leaves either House Disaroma, House Kinshaya or House K'mpeng.  So who is my next victim to be?

"K'mpeng is dishonored, they were found to be dealing with the Federation, trading State secrets for financial funding and arms", interjected Shadow Six.

"Ahhh, I see your network has struck again, I shall have to move fast to keep up with such an extensive spy organization, did you manage to kill anyone this time?" pushed K'rh'rt.

"Death is not always the tool which serves best", growled Shadow Six.  "Many of their former warriors are already volunteering their services to House S'uhn'ih instead of seeking revenge for a murder."

"Perhaps", mused K'rh'rt, "but death is the one that serves ultimately, one only need worry about that which survives."

"Do you question my strategies?" asked T'rahy'ih, her voice implying challenge and anger. 

"Do you question my loyalty?", countered K'rh'rt in a calm neutral tone, "Or my love, sister?"

T'rahy'ih appeared to calm herself, secretly smiling as she had deflected K'rh'rt's mocking away from her excitable Exec and then put her brother in his place.  There might not appear to be a winner in her their exchange, but she added another point for psychology on her own private scorecard.

"No" she answered after a moment, a calm statement of fact.

"Nor do I" replied her brother, much more subdued.

Both knew that K'rh'rt had no desire to lead house S'uhn'ih.  He would find little reason to manage the affairs of the House.  While he understood well the economics, the diplomacy, the managing of personnel and the various feuds within the faction known as House S'uhn'ih he would gladly let the cards fall where they may as long as he was giving the chance to pursue his chosen vocation.  A responsible leader would sacrifice freedom for leadership, it a price K'rh'rt wasn't willing nor able to pay.

The siblings both stepped forward at once embracing each other placing their palms and brows together exchanging a strong telepathic link of affection momentarily before stepping apart.  T'rahy'ih was the only one K'rh'rt felt anything for among the living even he and his brother didn't share the same rapport, although there was a great respect.  But his elder brother had a different mother and no Betazoid talents. 

K'ber'ly had been another matter altogether.  His bond with her had allowed him to continue to live after the death of their mother, her gentle side the balance of terror,and the trauma of witnessing his mothers murder, while they were mentally joined.  Yet it was her gentleness that led to her death as she refused to give up on her brother, sacrificing her life in the end for his sanity. 

The thought of her suicide as they were melded brought a smile to his face, such a supreme act of love.  He would shed no tears for her, she had achieved her victory in death, rage, fear, guilt, and sorrow had all left his soul with her triumph as she had intended.  He would make sure her name was written in the histories taking her rightful place among the legends, equal to Kahless himself.

"Kinshaya will be your target" T'rahy'ih informed her brother, "The old regent is to die, leaving his young heir to lead their house."  "The old Targ is wily, but the young pup has no teeth."

"My scouts have thoroughly scouted their fortress and found them to be soft, you should have little difficulty as long as you don't leave a trail of bodies."   Shadow Six continued,  "My agents could have done the act themselves, but T'rahy'ih wanted to give you the "pleasure".

"I wanted the message delivered by the hand of our family," T'rahy'ih corrected, shooting a look of scorn at Shadow Six.  She had little desire to watch her brother and her best commander mock each other until swords were drawn and one lie dead.  The results of such a fight were definitely in doubt, her brother's talents and skill with a blade made him a deadly opponent and his madness made him unpredictable, yet the older warrior was a famed swordsman as well surving more than 30 personal duels with nothing more than a few scars, and he was a D'Har Master with a trick or three up each of his sleeves.  Such a fight while entertaining would deprive her of valuable assets, her most valuable ones in fact.  There was something very rare that both warriorshad in common, she could truly trust them.

"I will see your orders carried out my leader", bowed K'rh'rt, bending to one knee.

T'rahy'ih smiled, pleased by the gesture and looked over at Shadow Six who was also soothed by the show of respect, even if overdue.

"I'll gather the scouting reports for you mission K'rh'rt son of K'jh'nn" volunteered Shadow Six using formality in his own show of respect.  "If you can meet me in the planning room."

"I'll join you in an hour", responded K'rh'rt "I wish to refresh myself and feed Grodon, he has missed me I'm sure."

"Just don't bring your pet to the strategy session," laughed T'rahy'ih, the last time you did that Shadow Six's ridges were swollen for a week, and he sneezed all over the status reports.

"Don't worry", smiled K'rh'rt, "he will go straight to sleep after I feed him a fat happy tribble."  K'rh'rt stopped in mid stride, burst out in sudden laughter and continued to his quarters inside the ancient fortress adjoining the new citadel on the other side of the courtyard.

"What was that all about?" asked a puzzled Shadow Six.

"I'd say my brother has just formed a new idea," replied T'rahy'ih, "something particularly cruel and nasty."......

To be continued

[K'Hexx]

The strategy session over K'rh'rt returned to the courtyard and gazed at the old fortress.  It rose to the same height as the new citadel, the new equaling the old but not daring to surpass it.  Where the lines of the new citadel were crisp and clean and well maintained, the crumbling outer stone work of the ancient structure gave it a more natural yet still menacing appearance.  The patterns of force by the frequent storms giving it a fierce character that symbolized its strength and endurance, a better symbol for an ancient house thought K'rh'rt.



It was the ancient structure where K'rh'rt made his home.  It made it easier for both himself and the others who dwelt within the new citadel.  The old statures and weathered tapestries were not weathered in K'rh'rt's mind.  His "friends" provided a vision of the past uncluttered by the present, but that was the way the spectres perceived things with little regards to the sequence of time.  today is tommorrow and tommorrow is yesterday, they would tell him.

He felt more at home among the dead.  Their desires and passions were simpler and stronger than those of the living.  Revenge and death, being the most common.  These were motivations K'rh'rt could identify with.  Power and influence were fleeting and never fully grasps colored in shades of gray, death was forever colored in a simple black.

The ghosts were waiting on him of course, they always were, especially when no one else was around.  He refused to talk to them in the presence of the living as it was uncomfortable for those present at such times.  The dead were always hungry for conversation, but he would refuse to talk to them for extended periods of time should they interrupt the living, so now they would wait. 

K'jh'nn was first as always, a father's prerogative as well as his tomb being the closest to the new citadel. 

"Support your sister, I have prepared he well", the shadow began.

"As I always have father, I follow your instructions and feed your hunger.", replied K'rh'rt respectfully yet with a certain boredom in his voice.

"And stop picking fights with Shadow Six, he is as fine a warrior as any and loyal beyond question, why do you antagonize him?", persisted the shade.

"It passes the time and keeps us both alert, and T'rahy'ih as well", countered K'rh'rt.

"True," mused the spirit, "but I wont have you coming to blows over some nonsense."

"And should I draw my blade against him, what will you do dead one?", growled K'rh'rt " the living owe no duty to the dead."

"But do you truly live?" countered K'jn'nn as he turned back toward his tomb.

K'rh'rt paused for a moment considering his father's last words, knowing he couldn't find the answer despite having sought it for over a decade.  Truly he thought, I'm as much among the dead as among the living.

A shudder passed through K'rh'rt as another voice came from his mouth, a female voice beckoning K'jn'nn.  "Husband, do not trouble our son, he serves me now, when he is finished I will release him and join you my love.  My revenge must come before my love, it is the Klingon way." 

K'jn'nn froze in his step, a spectral tear flowing down his cheek.  "you forsook the ways of your people for that of mine, no I find myself regretting your choice, leave or son's mind and come with me to Sto'vo'kor, for I cannot yet travel there without you."

"I cannot do this husband, the task is unfinished, but embrace me for a moment, and let that moment strengthen you as you wait just a little longer so that we can join for eternity", replied the voice.

K'rh'rt's body convulsed suddenly and then it froze in place as he looked out with a blank expression yet perceived his mother's spirit take leave of his body and step forward to embrace her husband.
Her form younger than K'rh'rt had  known her, as K'jn'nn form altered to that of his youth as the two lovers joined for a moment, wrapped in an ethereal glow.  Then looked once at their son before breaking their embrace.



K'jn'nn followed his wife's ghost back into the body of their son, then turned away sadly and returned to his crypt.

K'rh'rt walked to the next crypt, a visible reaction on his face as he stood before it.  Only on this grave were flowers allowed despite Klingon custom against it.  Seven warriors had died trying to prevent it, but K'rh'rt didn't care  his sister liked flowers and although she would have protested the deaths on her account, what she didn't know wouldn't distress her.  She stood before him a look of disapproval on her face.

"So another noble Klingon sheds his blood by your hand?  will you never get enough death?" mocked  K'ber'ly

His face in anguish as he fought with the enemy within, K'rh'rt lowered his eyes.  "You know I must, sister, but it won't be much longer, and it will shorten the war."

"Bah!" snorted  K'ber'ly, "Thats just an excuse, we should be builders not destroyers.  Fight her!  don't be mother's catspaw!  Fight Her! and take the House from T'rahy'ih as the rightful heir!  Then broker a peace, House S'uhn'ih needs no Chancellorship! but the Empire needs peace!  and it needs change!"

"If you had lived, perhaps sister, but I lack the strength to make the changes alone.  Your sacrifice will not be in vain, however, the change will occur, but first we must rule the Empire.  I will make T'rahy'ih change it!  The ascension of a female Chancellor is a necessary step, with that tradition changed, others will follow.  Either she will enact them or be replaced!  and if I replace her, the conservatives will follow me, so happy they will be to once again have a male to lead them!"

"I don't know," K'ber'ly's spirit wavered, in death as in life she couldn't abide a lasting conflict.

"Its the truth." replied her brother.

"But is there in truth no beauty", implored K'ber'ly.

"Trust me sister, it is all for the best.  Mother and I have a joint purpose for now, when the time comes we will part, she to Sto'vo'kor with father and I to enact our plan.  Until then we must work together of she and father cannot be joined as a moment ago.  You saw them too, would you prevent their joining?  Would you deny the truth of that beauty?"

"They were so.....beautiful......how could I........" began K'ber'ly unable to find the words.

"Then don't little sister.....it might be unpleasant getting there and full of nasty deeds, but the result will be worth it, now go and rest among your garden and think of an Empire of such gardens."

K'ber'ly reached out her hands palms up, K'rh'rt responded in kind and they touched their brows, love flowing between them, one living and one dead.  K'ber'ly turned away with a sigh and moved toward her "garden" of flowers atop her crypt a smile naturally creeping onto her face.  Klingons rarely smiled in happiness and ghosts never did, except for one.

K'rh'rt passed by his brother's tomb, there would be no ghost waiting here, there never was. 

"Where are you brother?, I need you now."

No answer came, perhaps one never would, but that alone was hope.  And Hope was a diminishing resource for K'rh'rt.

K'rh'rt passed by the other spectres, ignoring their pleas for news of the living until one last tomb remained that of S'uhn'ih.  No ghost waited for him here but S'uhn'ih was there he knew feeling the powerful presence of the House founder.

"Will you come out and speak with one of your sons?" asked K'rh'rt.

"Why should I if he doesn't listen?, responded a powerful bass voice.

"How have I failed to listen noble sire? Have I not followed the true path of our House, have I not followed the rules of honor?"

The specter stepped out of the tomb looking at the living warrior with disdain.

"Rules of honor? there are no rules of Honor!, Kahless was a wise opportunist no more, his Rules of Honor a sham to perpetrate his power, know the truth for what it is, not as a romantic notion, boy!" growled the House founder.

"But you yourself placed you knee before Kahless, how can you question him now?" asked K'rh'rt hardly believing his audacity in challenging S'uhn'ih.

Laughter roared from the ghost as a wind blowing back K'rh'rt's hair.

"That I did indeed! But do you think I was scared of that short fellow with the reddish hair?  I think not, I was thrice the swordsman he was and wiser by far.  I could have challenged and killed him much easier than bow to him and taken the Empire as my own!", exclaimed the phantom still shaking with mirth.

"Then why didn't you?", asked a puzzled K'rh'rt.

"Because that Empire with myself at its head might have lasted till I died if I was lucky, much shorter  likely.  I had prowess, finest warrior of my era, I had wisdom, I had resources, but Kahless had something I didn't........Fanaticism!  Only a fanatic could have forged a lasting Empire, so I took the knee and assumed his right hand as his personal Champion and none ever chose to challenge him again!", exulted S'uhn'ih.

"Why Fanaticism?", K'rh'rt inquired.

"Because that is what makes Empires, although it dissipates with time.  It is what will make those who should be your enemies your allies, it is what makes your warriors sacrifice themselves upon the blade or in the coldness of space, it is what makes your enemies tremble in fear and lay down their arms and quiver at your feat begging to join you!"

"But that is what House S'uhn'ih has been doing sire, how have I erred?", pleaded K'rh'rt.

"You have erred in that you hold the "Rules of Honor" too tightly, they are a tool only to be used or cast aside.  Let such rules bind others, and let your purpose guide your acts instead, let them see the Fanatic, let them fear him!"

"I had a thought earlier today sire, about a rival House let me share it with you."  K'rh'rt grinned devilishly.

Moments later a frantic gust of wind kicked up outside the new Citadel rattling the windows.  T'rahy'ih stood up and looked outside to see the House banner go flying by, ripped off the battlements atop the Citadel.  Opening the window to get a better look she heard the roaring wind howl as if in laughter and to watch the banner descend finally landing as if on its own accord atop the shoulders of the lone warrior standing in the courtyard, and watch as that figure walked into the old fortress.  A strange scene, an omen perhaps she thought as she closed the window, her thoughts troubling her.

[FPF-SCM_TraceyG_XC]

Well written Kerehent... in the vein of Macbeth 

[_SSCF_Hooch]

The Chancellor was dead, and the Empire was getting weak and beginning to show its? age, old ways that had kept the planet somewhat united had not changed in a millennium.

Honor, Glory, and Empire had become just words used to justify anything that brought greater power to your house and to one?s self. Years of conflict with the Federation, Romulans, Hydrans and countless others had sapped the Great Houses of their strength.

Even when the ?outsiders? where not threatening the Empire directly and things were ?peaceful? there was enough bloodshed to further weaken the available manpower. Personal challenges, insults, revenge, blood feuds, on and on the useless slaughter of skilled warriors marched on.

Now, the working classes had been permitted to serve in the fleet. Gone were the days of the rulers and the ruled. The sweating masses desired to assume leadership roles within the Empire. Even the females dared to stretch fourth their grasping hands to take power unto themselves and lead the Empire.

Damn the alien ideas of the Federation over last 75 years, their ?human rights? concepts had weaken the control of the Great Houses over the whole of the Empire. Now, the Empire could not be defended without the masses and the females.

?If we can die for the Empire then we have a right to rule it as well? was the cry of the radicals. They were no longer content to have just the honor of serving. The minor and weaker houses had taken up their cause for liberal reform and have now brought the Empire to a crossroads and to the brink of Civil War.

War like the Empire had not seen since the days of Kah?Less the Unforgettable.

The Conservatives had declared that they would see the planet covered in blood before they would share the power that they had held for a thousand years taken from them. The radicals would change all that, ?if we killed our gods then we can kill you as well?.

Then there were the opportunists, those, whose? lust for power cared little about anything else but for power itself.

The Great Council had been broken, a deadlock prevented a new Chancellor from being selected, oaths had been sworn, all that was left was the impending bloodletting?

[KBF-Frankk]

B
U
M
P

To Firts page 

[madelf]

This is the best post ever made.  Keep it up Tracey.

-Elfie

[K'Hexx]

Awaiting final draft dispositions before next installment

[KBF-Frankk]

waiting 4 more

[FPF-SCM_TraceyG_XC]

Bump for Wanderer. Yes, this thread has not been forgotten about it and will be finished (eventually).

[Merlinfmct87]

Bump for AC/DC!

I'm looking forward to the next chapter .

Merlin

[Commander Maxillius]

Bump for Wanderer. Yes, this thread has not been forgotten about it and will be finished (eventually).

How about now?

[KBF-Kapact]

Whoa!!  Nice writing.....



I'll throw my two cents in....



Kapact

[KBF-Kapact]

This is an early work, needed a bit of polishing, but here it is.... (I haven't gone through and corrected all of the little bbs tags for italics..... forgive me for being lazy)


Remember the Amar


"After due consideration, the High Council has determined that the device known as 'V'Ger', admittedly a device sent from earth, encroached upon Klingon space in clear violation of the Organian Peace Treaty. It attacked and destroyed three of our cruisers without provocation before returning to Earth to transmit illegally obtained intelligence from the Empire. Starfleet admits all of this, and refuses to accept responsibility. Even now, they have begun construction of a spy outpost to replace the one destroyed by their device. This blatant disregard for interstellar law cannot be tolerated. Our only alternative to war is a surgical strike against the new spy outpost. All ships near the vicinity of the destruction of the cruiser Amar and it's strike force are authorized to cross the border and remove the station. Qapla' ."

Commander DaKleS turned his fiery gaze to Captain Kroto. "The message contain's Chancellor Lorak's personal code prefix, Captain."

Kroto could hear the lust for vengeance and blood in DaKleS' voice. He felt it as well. "We are less than a day away from the coordinates, DaKleS. The Fek'lhr is as hungry for Federation blood as we are. Set course for the border." Kroto paused briefly to watch his men tense themselves around the dark bridge. He could feel it in himself. It was alive. Hungry. Bracing himself against a support beam, he let out a deep breath. "We sail for blood!" The quote, a favorite amongt Klingon ship captains, had been passed down since the first days of Klingon wooden sailing vessels. "Execute!" The K'Vort class Bird of Prey IKV Fek'lhr brought it's wings up into cruise mode and disappeared in an explosion of warp energy.

Smoke curled from around the edges of the Fek'lhr's viewscreen. Federation battlecruisers and Romulan warbirds could be seen through the haze and interference. they were regrouping and coming around for another coordinated assault. Kroto peered through the smoke and darkness to DaKleS' station. All he saw was a darkened form lit from behind by a small fire. "DaKleS, my old friend. Do you hear me? DaKleS!" But DaKleS couldn't answer. He had been the last to stand with is captain against the treachery. He had been the last to die.

The whine of a Federation transporter interrupted his thoughts, as it always did at this point. And, as always, it was Kahless who appeared. He swung his bat'telh in a wide arc that decapitated the form of DaKleS. "Son of Vavdich! You are without honor. Your ship has been taken intact by the enemy, your crew has died, and you allowed yourself to be taken prisoner. You are no warrior. No Klingon."

Kroto wanted to respond. To defend himself. But there were no words that could defend him. "I would ask you to kill me, Kahless, so that I might die with honor."

Kahless bellowed. The sound of every Klingon in Sto'vo'kor howling at the words of this dishonorable Ha'dibaH. "Acts of dishonor will not save you, Kroto. And neither will I. As the humans say, you have made your bed. Lie in it. The house of BortaS will be remembered as a house of cowardice, treason, and death." "But my Lord, I am of the House of Vavdich. Not BortaS."

Kahless pounded his fist into a console, and screamed his anger. "Meaningless!" He disappeared in the explosion, and, thankfully, the dream was over.

Kroto's head jerked up to slam against the bulkhead just over his bed. "Kahless!" His scream seemed to shake the weapons that hung from the walls of his cabin. He sat up quickly and poured a cup of tea from a carafe next to his bed. Then he tapped an intercom switch. "Comnmander DaKleS to the captain's quarters." The tea was cold and bitter, but the toral root from which it was rendered created a mild fire in his stomach. The Romulan tea was poisonous to lesser species, but acted as a strong stimulant to Klingons. He was downing his second cup when a chime announced his first officer's arrival. "Enter."

DaKleS stepped through the door and stopped in his tracks. "We are two hours from the battle site."

Kroto was about to pour himself a third cup of tea when he lookeed into his friend's eyes. He put the carafe downand walked over to examine his display of weapons. He pulled his bat'telh from the wall, but replaced it after a few seconds. "You look concerned, DaKleS. Do you fear a response from Starfleet?"

DaKleS made a frustrated noise. "I am eager for their response. But I see ghosts in your eyes. Old ghosts?"

Kroto laughed out loud. "You watch over me like an old griSta' cat watches over her young. Yes, I have been visited by some old ghosts. Kahless warns of cowardice and dishonor. And the house of BortaS. The same dream I have known since the destruction of the Amar. It is disquieting."

"Is it true you knew her commander?"

"More than that. Ab'Qoff was captain on my first deep space flight. He taught me to kill humans and their ships. These humans now allow their own creation to destroy him, and there is no acknowledgement of responsibility. No apology. No compensation. And they will view our response as a criminal act."

"What do we care of their response? When you kill a mad targh, do you worry about the reaction of his family?"

"No, and yet Kahless calls me a coward. An animal without honor. I do not understand." Normally, Kroto would never reveal his doubts to another Klingon, but DaKleS was his first officer. His QimtaR. His trusted friend. "And I do not understand why he referred to my house as the house of BortaS."

DaKleaS smiled without humor. "The house of revenge. Certainly he would not deny your right of vengeance."

"And yet, how many of our comrades have we lost to revenge? Too many, I think."

"Then it is our way to lose too many comrades. We will see them again in Sto'Vo'Kor. Is it not a small price to pay for what is ours?"

"You are correct. It simply falls to us to ensure that the humans pay a higher price than we do. You say we are two hours from the battle site?"

DaKleS suddenly felt his blood pumping faster. "Yes. Perhaps they will send that devil Kirk to respond."

Kroto gave an amused grunt. "Send a devil to fight the Fek'lhr ? One devil against another? We can only hope. I want three combat drills completed and analyzed before we arrive. And program the simulators with sensor intelligence on the latest Federation tactics."

"It will be done." DaKleS left without another word.

When he was alone, Kroto pulled his bat'telh from the wall. His eyes narrowed, and he thought of catching Kirk's neck in the curve of the blade. The two hours went by too slowly for Kroto, but finally the drills were over. The anticipation had given him more fire than a hundred cups of toral root tea. A computer padd revealed an acceptable performance by his crew during the battle drills. By human standards, they would no doubt be considered legendary, but he judged nothing by human standards. "Status."

The tactical officer, a powerfully built bare armed woman turned to him. "We are cloaked. The spy outpost is five thousand kellicams directly ahead. Long range sensors reveal no other ships in the area, but accuracy is limited by our cloaking shiled."

"Good enough." He turned to DaKleS. "Have any other Klingon ships arrived?"

"No. We are alone. The prize is ours."

"Excellent. Bring all weapons to satndby. Target the outpost's reactor core. I don't want to watse any time or weaponry on this piece of pluQta'."

"Do you think they will respond that quickly?"

"I do. There are ghosts nearby." He turned back to his tactical officer. "Bring us to point blank, SuHo. Five hundred kellicams. Stand by to decloak. You will control this. Shields go up and weapons fire as soon as you decloak."

"Battle sequence one, aye sir."

Kroto grunted and smiled. SuHo was hunched over her consloe, obviously tense. "Yes, lieutenant, battle sequence one. Relax. This is good hunting." The ugly bulk of the new Federation outpost grew in the Fek'lhr's viewscreen until it seemed close enough to touch. Kroto's eyes locked onto his personal display. It centered on an image of the outpost's reactor while a range indicator counted down. Closer....closer........."Now!"

The Fek'lhr appeared, and after a delay of less than five seconds, four photon torpedoes shot towards the outpost. It's shields flared briefly, then died. Kroto barked an order to SuHo. "Sequence two!" Four more torpedoes spat at the outpost, this time smashing through it's hull. It glowed briefly from within before exploding. SuHo gazed at Kroto expectantly, like a child looking for approval. He granted it. "Glorious." SuHo thrust her fist into the air. "We are Klingons!" Kroto, DaKleS, and the rest of the crew joined in the traditional vocal celebration. "We are Klingons! We are Klingons! We are Klingons!" They were interruped by a harsh beeping from SuHo's console. "Report!" "Federation destroyer just entering sensor range."

Kroto himself slapped at the panel, cloaking the ship. He then examined the sensor reading. "It is an Akula class destroyer. Science officer. What is their sensor capability? Have they scanned us?"

An aged Klingon looked at the screen for a second before answering Kroto. "Equivalent to ours. They may have scanned us before we cloaked."

Kroto returned to his command chair and watched the screen. "Navigation, move us into the debris field. We will wait for the Ha'dibaHmey to investigate, then we will send them after their dead friends." The Fek'lhr moved silently and invisibly into the glowing remnants of the outpost, turning to face the oncoming destroyer. "Let them charge to their destruction. DaKleS, identify that ship."

DaKleS consulted his personal station for a moment. Then he turned to Kroto and spoke with relish. "Federation destroyer USS Larson. Registry NCC-327. Captain Edward Phillips last known to be in command."

"What do we know about that ship?"

DaKleS spent a few seconds studying his computer. "Intelligence has detected the Larson along our border several times over the past few months. It then returns to starbase before coming back to the border. It is, no doubt, attached to Starfleet Intelligence."

Kroto was silent for a moment. Then he let out a great sigh. "A pity. It would have pleased me to destroy it. Now we must attempt to take it intact."

SuHo straightened a bit. "I do not relish the idea of having to drag humans back to the Empire. Disgusting, greasy creatures."

DaKleS laughed and slapped her on the back. "Do not concern yourself. There will be no humans to return to the Empire."

Kroto winked at his friend. "The teachings of Kahless. Cowards take hostages. Klingons do not. And anyway, who wants to feed them?" They laughed together. "SuHo, how close are they?"

"One thousand kellicams. They have been at defensive posture since coming into sensor range. Shields at full. Weapons powered." DaKleS turned to Kroto, his eyes full of humor. "We may be forced to destroy her, Captain."

"Perhaps. But not unless we have to. SuHo, you must bring down her shields quickly. DaKleS, when they are down, two boarding parties of ten each will transport over. I will lead the force that takes the bridge while you lead the force that takes engineering. Notify me when you have control of their warp core."

SuHo's gravelly voice intruded on his planning. Had duty permitted it, she would have been on her feet. "Captain, permit me the glory of
accompanying you."

"Seek not glory, SuHo" Kroto was quoting Chang. He gave DaKleS an amused glance. "Lt. Commander RoDen still has Saurian fever, doesn't he?"

"Yes. He is not at his prime. Perhaps another day of recovery. I suggest he command the ship during the operation."

Kroto walked to SuHo's station, his eyes locked onto hers. "SuHo, you must be prepared to beam over as soon as the Larson's shields are down." He tapped an intercom switch and spoke grimly. "Transporter control, beam Lt. SuHo's bat'telh to the bridge now!" Kroto saw SuHo's bat'telh materialize next to her chair. "What is the range to the Larson?"

To her credit, she did not waste a second looking at her bat'telh. "Five hundred kellicams. Point blank."

"Wait for it." The Larson was now huge on the screen. "Any indication they have scanned us?"

"No. Her posture has not changed since we detected her. The interference from the outpost's destruction must be hiding us effectively. SuHo paused, waiting for Kroto to react. Then she spoke urgently. "Two hundred kellicams. One fifty. One hundred. They will detect us at fifty."

"Count down by the tens." Then as if nothing important were going on, he turned to DaKleS. "How far do the Larson's shields extend from her hull?"

SuHo raised an eyebrow, but did not look from her console. DaKleS replied calmly. "Two kellicams."

"So we would impact with them--"

"Ninety....eighty....seventy.....six--"

Kroto's voice suddenly thundered through the bridge. "Now! Sequence one!".

The Fek'lhr seemed to shudder with excitement as it appeared, looming in front of the Larson. Seconds later, three photon torpedoes spat at the destroyer. At the same time, the bird of prey's wing tip disruptors seemed to glow as they loosed two shots each in tandem. SuHo's accuracy was uncanny. All seven shots impacted on the same spot on the Larson's shields, creating a glow that remained for perhaps thirty seconds. SuHo cursed. "Ghuy'cha'. Inertial dampers off line. Shields down to twenty percent."

Kroto was still calm. "Then they cannot go to warp. Lock all weapons on that spot. If she has a chance to escape, even on impulse-." The Larson did exactly as Kroto had feared, ducking underneath the Fek'lhr with amazing speed. "Come about. As soon as she comes to bear, fire."

DaKleS himself performed the manuever, swinging the Fek'lhr on its axis and anglingthe ship 'down' to catch the destroyer before it could turn. But the captain of the Larson was not about to take another shot unanswered. A spread of photon torpedoes shot from the destroyer's bow and flew underneath her to strike the Fek'lhr's underbelly. The bird of prey rocked from the assault. "Our shields are down to sixty percent."

And still Kroto was calm. "Bypass all safeties. Continuous fire until I say to stop."

SuHo replied by slapping at her console. "Aye. Safeties off, firing all weapons." While photon torpedoes began to belch from the Fek'lhr, its disruptors fired continuously to create nearly solid streams of destructive energy that assaulted the Larson's weakened shields. They didn't last long.

"Cease fire." As Kroto gave the order, SuHo's console seemed to explode from within, belching smoke and throwing the lieutenant across the bridge. "SuHo!" DaKleS moved to her and was about to examine her when she jumped to her feet. "That human is dead!"

Kroto laughed. "No doubt. What is the damage?"

"All weapon systems are disabled. No other systems affected." SuHo sounded disgusted. "Captain, we have to take that ship now. If she attempts to escape we will be unable to stop her."

Kroto didn't waste time answering her. "Transporter chief, energize!" HIs hand was still on the comm panel when he dematerialized. He found himself aboard the darkened, smoking bridge of the Larson. His bat'telh, which had been transported into his hands, seemed to take on a life of its own. Without realizing it, Kroto had gone for the killing stroke at Captain Phillips. But the captain's chair was unoccupied. "Where is your captain?"

A burly human launched himself at Kroto in response. Kroto stopped him with with another stroke of his bat'telh. He picked up the bloodied form easily and examined the rank insignia. "Not the captain. He is a commander."

SuHo looked at the piece of metal. "He dies rather than betray his captain. Almost noble."

"Yet futile." Kroto looked about the smoking bridge. His troops already had control. he also noted that the only corpses wore Starfleet uniforms. But not all the humans were dead. "Science officer, you will assist me!"

An aging red haired woman eyed him defiantly. "Go to hell."

Kroto drew his d'k tagh and snapped the blades open. "I come from the devil. Is that close enough?" The officer spat an unimaginative curse at him and folded her arms across her chest defiantly. Kroto laughed. "You would not survive it." He ended the conversation with a thrust of his dagger. Then he replaced the dagger and withdrew his communicator. "Fek'lhr, this is Kroto. We have the bridge, but the captain has fled. Do we have the capability to link with their computer?"

RoDen's scratchy voice answered promptly. "Commander DaKleS provided the Larson's command codes just before you contacted us. We have already linked with its computer."

"Where is the captain?"

"Approaching transporter room two. That is three decks down. Follow the corridor for 100 feet. The transporter is in room 4-A."

Kroto was already heading for the turbolift, followed by SuHo and two other warriors. "Excellent!" He changed frequencies on the communicator as the doors slid shut. "DaKleS! Status."

"We have taken engineering. We can fly this scow home from down here." Kroto could hear the sounds of a human struggling in the background. A struggle that was cut short. "The chief engineer did not survive."

"You downloaded the computer banks?"

"Yes. There was a great deal of information, and one protected file."

"Protected?" Kroto looked around at his troops. "You could not access it?"

"No. The file did not exist as such in the computer. There was simply a reference to a protected file for eyes of the captain only. We found no such separate file or evidence in any log that it had been destroyed."



(to be continued...)

[KBF-Kapact]

"Va! Maintain control of engineering. Prepare for any resistance. I will remove the protected file from the captain." He replaced the communicator on his belt and waited for the turbolift doors to open. When the doors opened, Kroto was greeted by two Starfleet security men with phasers drawn. Before he could react, SuHo swung her bat'telh over his head to decapitate one of them. Kroto killed the other one with a thrust of his d'k tagh. "Charming. To the transporter room!"

They entered the transporter room as Captain Phillips was running from the pad to the control panel. His voice seemed on the edge of panic. "Computer, override. Authorization Phillips, zeta-zeta-zeta-delta."

The computer's voice rebuked him immediately. "Unable to comply."

"Emergency invasion protocol. Code cochrane alpha two. Verify voice print. Override all command functions. Terminate computer core in thirty-"

"Thank you for the codes, Captain." Kroto put his arm around Phillips' neck. "Please do not resist. I had hoped to take you alive."

"Never. You won't take me or my ship."

"It is my ship. There is no escape. Cooperate with me, and you will be well treated."

"I'll die first." Phillips sprang into action, ramming his elbow into Kroto's stomach. Kroto's breath wheezed out of him, and Phillips pulled free of his grasp. Before Kroto or the others could react, Phillips was out of the room.

"Kill him!" Kroto spat the words. SuHo and the others followed him from the room in pursuit of Phillips.

In engineering, DaKleS had been studying an internal scanner. He spoke urgently into his communicator. "Scanners are off line. We cannot locate the protected file or Phillips."

Kroto's voice was filled with hatred and hunger."He has retaken control of the computer. He may try to retake engineering."

"I hope he tries."

"If he does, we will fight together. I am on my way to engineering." Kroto shut off his communicator and looked at his team. "SuHo will accompany me to engineering. You two return to the bridge and remove what secrets you can from the computer, And the crew." SuHo and Kroto watched as they headed back to the bridge. "I believe the file is in engineering, and Phillips is on his way there."

In engineering, DaKleS happened to look away from main hatch just as it seemed to explode in a terrific flash. "Phillips!" DaKleS whipped his communicator open. "RoDen! Transport the captain to these coordinates immediately!"

SuHo was shocked to find her captain begin to dematerialize, and grabbed at him instinctively. She vanished with him. They appeared in engineering just as six Federation officers stepped through the remains of the main hatch. Three Klingons were cut down by phaser fire that erupted from the smoke and haze. Kroto felt a body slam into him, and the deck rushed up at him. He stood up just as a human was aiming a kick at his head. He grabbed the foot and twisted violently. He was rewarded witha crack of bone and a yelp of pain. He yanked downward, and the human was on the deck. "ToDSaH! You fight like a coward!"

DaKleS ran to Kroto. "Captain! Phillips has entered the computer core. He must be trying to extract the protected file."

"Excellent. Now we will know why he so stubbornly refuses to die." Kroto followed DaKleS through the battle toward the core chamber.

They forced the door open just in time to see Phillips pull a small plastic file from the computer. Then he tapped an intercom switch. "Computer, lock on these coordin-!" Kroto drove his bat'telh into the intercom switch. Sparks exploded from the control panel. Phillips slammed his fist into Kroto's chin, and the Klingon staggered for a moment. Then Phillips was gone in the confusion.

In engineering's main chamber, DaKleS and his team was disposing of the remains of the Starfleet team that had attacked them. "He knows that his ship is lost."

Kroto had just finished butting foreheads with the warriors standing triumphantly over their dead enemies. "So what will he do? Will he die with honor, or will he try to escape?"

"He is a coward. He will flee."

"Remember that he fought to recover that file. If it is that important, he may try to escape with it." Kroto looked to the hatch, smelling the air as if he were hunting. "Escape pod, or shuttlecraft?"

DaKleS thought for a moment. "The shuttle is armed, and warp capable."

"The shuttlebay it is." Kroto slung his bat'telh across his back and withdrew his communiactor. "Fek'lhr, transport three to the Larson's main shuttlebay." Kroto looked at SuHo and DaKleS as they dematerialized.

DaKleS looked at the neat line of shuttles."He could transport here any second."

SuHo started countingthe doors leading to the hangerbay. "And what of the crew? Will they try to escape with him?"

"Not likely." DaKleS had been through tjis many times. "When I took control of the computer, I locked most of them behind bulkheads and sent override signals into the computer mechanisms. It will take hours to free the crew."

Kroto unslung his bat'telh, and watched as SuHo and DaKleS did the same. "Come to us, coward!" His voice echoed off of bulkheads and shuttle hulls.

As if in response, the whine of a Federation transporter seemed to fill the air. It reminded Kroto of his horrible dream. It was joined by a sparkling column that appeared next to one of the largest of teh shuttles."Finally!" DaKleS lunged towards the column, which quickly became Captain Phillips. He let out a fierce yell, and levelled his bat'telh for the kill. Without warning, they all heard the scream of a phaser. In seconds, DaKleS' midsection burned away as the phaser beam cut through him. It spread quickly, until there was nothing left of DaKleS. Kroto and SuHo let out death screams and lunged at Phillips.

He was adjusting the phaser's setting when Kroto threw his d'k tagh at him. The knife buried itself in Phillips' arm. He dropped the phaser, and turned to the shuttle. Then he pulled out his communicator. "Computer! Disable safeties and lower containment field around the warp core in one minute."

SuHO stopped short. "He's destroying the ship!" She turned her fierce gaze to Kroto. "Let me kill him!"

Kroto wanted to, but something stopped him. "No. This is not the time for the House of BortaS." His words seemed to trail off for a moment.

"What are you talking about?"

Phillips was in the shuttle now, and seconds later, its engines were starting up. Kroto looked to where his friend had died. "Revenge will wait. Let Phillips explain why his crew is dead, and remind his superiors why they fear the Empire." Kroto's communicator appeared in his hand. "RoDen, transport all boarding parties to the Fek'lhr. And move the ship away." Kroto and SuHo found themselves on the bridge of the Fek'lhr. She moved to her station without speaking while Kroto moved to his chair. On the screen, they watched as a small object fled the scene.

Seconds later, the Larson destroyed herself in an explosion that Kroto found disappointing. He spoke loudly, but with gravity. "The Amar and its crew will always be remembered, as will my friend Commander DaKleS." He looked at DaKleS' vacant station. "And we will not allow Captain Phillips to forget us." He found his thoughts pulled to SuHo, who had performed with such honor. "Lt Commander SuHo, assume the first officer's station." She stood up, and with brief hesitation, moved to DaKleS' station. "Good. Now, my fellow Klingons, let us sing of the death of comrades. And enemies!" He led them into a passage from "AktuH and Melota". The inspiring sounds of the well known Klingon opera lifted his heart, and those of his crew....



(updated.... I cleaned up the paragraph breaks a bit)

[KBF-Kapact]

"The Winter of Our Discontent"

Capt Kroto hung onto the bridge pylons. The Fek'lhr was moving faster, in a tighter turning radius than it had ever had to before. Shields were on the verge of collapsing, and the inertial dampers were failing. His K'Vort Class Bird of Prey was nearly the equal to
the Ber'taa that hung closely on his tail. But nearly being equal had sent many a warrior to Sto'Vo'Kor prematurely. "Maximum impulse! Set course 179 mark 000!"

SuHo was manning the navigation station, to replace the officer who had been nearly decapitated in an explosion when they had first been attacked. "179 mark 000. Aye!"

The Fek'lhr leapt forward and upwards from their position relative to the center of the galactic plane. The Ber'taa struggled to follow the smaller ship...and listed. It was momentarily drifting as it's impulse engines overloaded it's comparatively weak structural
integrity field. Safeties cut in, stopping the huge ship.

SuHo didn't wait for Kroto to issue the order. She threw warp power into an emergency reverse motion, spinning the Fek'lhr around on its axis. Then she fired full disruptors at the helpless Ber'taa. The bigger ship rocked under the assault. Then the Fek'lhr was gone,
heading back towards Klingon space.

Kroto knew the voice would come first. A craggy voice on the speaker. "Ha! Damn near caught you that time, you son of a targh!" Then the face appeared. Lt Commander Kruge. "You know, Captain, one of these days I'm going to graduate from this duty. And you are going to miss me."

Kroto considered engaging Kruge in a bit of curse warfare, but thought better of it. Kruge saw humor only in what he could do to others. And while he was still just a Lt Commander, he was powerful enough to have a chance at the Fleet Lord status that had opened with the death Lord Korok. "Perhaps. But not today." The Fek'lhr was out
of Kruge's sector and on course for the VIacHI system.

"Commander SuHo, you have the bridge. Repair all combat systems, then run three combat drills. I'll be in my quarters." SuHo acknowledged his orders with a glance, and began to pace the bridge.

Kroto grinned and went below. He never went directly to his quarters though. Even today, in an age that saw no subject races serving on Klingon warships, there were still potential assassins at every corner of a Klingon ship. Every warrior waiting and watching for a
superior to make a mistake or show weakness. Then death, and power. Kroto was too familiar with mortality to welcome the blade that comes in the night like that. He made his way to the cramped engineering deck.

KroQwI' was directing his officers with an iron hand. He saw Kroto and stopped. "Why are you here? To survey your damage? Who has been in command, your pet targh?" This was his way of telling Kroto that he was annoyed at what he had put the ship through. He was also greeting him in the only way he knew how.

"Perhaps I should bring on some humans to teach you damage control." Kroto scowled at the crusty old engineer. Then he left him to his work.

Finally in his quarters, Kroto activated the secure comlink to the VIacHI system. "VIacHI. Alert status CHa'maHwa'."

Chang himself responded. "Verified Kroto. What did you encounter?"

"There was no listening post. That must have been a deception. I found Kruge, though, in a Ber'taa."

"So the House of gI'HaR has a Ber'taa. And Lt Commander Kruge. Did you destroy him?"

"No, General. We got past the petaQ, though. No signs of pursuit."

"Good. Join up with the Tolan Strike Force at Galorndan Core. Our new Romulan 'allies' have an interest in that area. I want to discourage them."

"HIja'. Kroto out." The comlink was severed. Kroto thought that in all probability the alliance with the Romulans was nearing an end now that there had been a shift in power in the Romulan Empire. The honorable Rhihannsu were gone. But the Empire had obtained cloaking technology, and the Romulans had obtained a few old D7's. Whether or not the sect now in control would honor the treaty of nojpu' or not was anyone's guess. Kroto thought that the Romulans would not be satisfied with the current borders.

Kroto activated the bridge monitor. SuHo was in the command chair, holding on for dear life and looking happy and alive as she always did there. Kroto saw her teeth bared and her nostrils flaring. What a sight, he saw. Young and full of anger and fire. She seemed to glare at the screen, then give orders to the secondary tactical officer. They were taking the ship through a combat drill. He switched the display to a tactical view. Three warbirds coming at them in a pinwheel attack. Good. She probably anticipated fighting the Romulans as he did. As Chang seemed to.

SuHo glared at the screen, waiting for the first simulated enemy to appear. The narrow, silver profile of a Romulan "Snipe" Warbird coming from overhead. It closed to 10,000 kellicams and the nose flashed. A plasma torpedo burst into space, and the Romulan
disappeared. "Emergency reverse! Apply warp power!" The Fek'lhr slammed itself into reverse, now running from the plasma torpedo that would easily shatter its shields.

"Disruptor fire on the aft shields." The tactical officer, a short, light colored warrior with slightly bugged eyes shouted. "They're targeting the impulse engines!"

SuHo didn't seem concerned. Of course, she had learned that from Kroto, as she had learned everything else. And these were only simulated enemies. "Attitude thrusters! Rotate us 180 degrees, then full impulse!"

The Fek'lhr flipped end over end as it retreated from the closing torpedo. "Emergency maneuvers! Course 000 mark 000." That course took the Bird of Prey straight down, just as the aft warbird accelerated.

The plasma torpedo began to turn in pursuit of the Fek'lhr when it found itself turning away unexpected Romulan disruptor fire, and collided with the attacking Snipe warbird.

The third warbird had been waiting for the resolution of this combat. It executed a two second warp burst that brought it underneath the Fek'lhr, just 20 kellicams from the ship's underside. A plasma torpedo launched and almost immediately slammed into the Fek'lhr.

SuHo was thrown out of her seat. She looked up just as Kroto walked onto the bridge. He held up a hand. "I'm not here. Continue."

The ship had completely stopped. Attitude control was out, and the ship was slowly rolling. It would be upside down soon. Artificial gravity held everyone in their seats, but it was still uncomfortable. Even Kroto felt his blood rushing to his head.

SuHo gave Kroto a hard look to hide her embarrassment and pulled herself to the tactical station. "Prepare two space mines. Take us away from the warbird. Course 135 mark 72. Warp two."

The Fek'lhr took off, with the Warbird in pursuit. It didn't try to dodge or weave. This was a time to recharge and try to beat the beast across the river of blood.

SuHo looked back to see Kroto watching appreciatively. But she worried that she would appear hesitant to act. That would be fatal, simulation or not. She watched on the tactical display the charge that had returned to the ventral shields where the plasma torpedo had
hit. It was at 43 percent. There was also the aft shield to be concerned with. It had been down to 50 percent when they dodged that ship. It was up to 75 percent. SuHo tapped the intership communicator. "All hands, prepare for emergency maneuvers." Then she braced herself against the support pylons. "Helm, emergency reverse. Warp power. Three second burst at warp two. Stand by to eject space mines."

She held her hand up, and looked at the reverse aspect scanner, where the warbird was starting to close. "Stand by. Stand by." She looked at Kroto from the corner of his eye. He grinned at her. "Stand by...DaH!" Her hand dropped, and the Fek'lhr suddenly stopped, and was traveling in the opposite direction at warp speed. The two space mines were ejected through a shielded port as the ship passed the warbird. The warbird tore itself apart before it could drop out of warp. SuHo sat back fully in her chair and exhaled. "Stand down from alert status."

Kroto almost got out of his seat and said something. But he stopped himself. He knew that it was coming, and he readied himself for it. The second warbird, the one that had fired the plasma torpedo and vanished.

It decloaked underneath the Fek'lhr, where the plasma torpedo had brought down the shield and hit the underbelly. Then it let loose its own plasma torpedo on the weakened ventral shields. The shields collapsed again, and the hull went with it. The bridge rocked
violently, and the lights went out. Kroto smelled the hull burning away and heard the rush of escaping atmosphere.

Then the lights came back up. Kroto stood and walked to the front of the bridge. "You have failed the tactical exercise, Commander SuHo."

"It was a foolish mistake." SuHo removed her dk'tagh and offered it Kroto. "I have failed you and this crew. I give you my life."

"And I return it to you. Never make that mistake again." Kroto retook his command chair. "Stations." Kroto was impressed by the speed with which the crew returned to duty after the shock of simulated destruction. Then he turned to the helm. "ETA to Galorndan Core."

"Twenty minutes."

"Stand by for combat sequences. Long range scan of the area."

SuHo looked to Kroto and kept herself busy. She had failed, she knew it. She felt as if she didn't belong here. Didn't deserve to be here. But Kroto trusted her, and she would not let him down.

The Fek'lhr arrived at the outskirts of the system and came to a halt. "Scan the area."

SuHo had configured her station for tactical functions. "Three Romulan ships. Configuration unknown at this distance. Three Klingon ships. Two B'Rel Class. One Ber'taa Class."

Kroto swore out loud. "Kruge." He turned to the comm officer. "Contact the strike force."

A moment later, there was a response from 'Lord' QroQ of the IKS Qor'etlh. "Kroto, where are you? You were ordered to report to me."

"I was ordered to meet the strike force at Galorndan Core. That is where I am."

QroQ glowered. "The House of QroQ IS the Tolan Strike Force. It has been for a hundred years. As for your orders, listen and do not speak. Do not engage until I approve. The strike force will arrive in ten minutes. Follow us in. QroQ out."

Kroto watched as the face of QroQ was replaced on the viewscreen by the Imperial symbol. "QroQ the weak." The reference to the final emperor was a frequent one for QroQ's detractors. QroQ denied that he was related, yet he was unquestionably powerful and well connected. The only question was from where his power originated. Kroto found himself hoping that someday QroQ's legendary luck on the battlefield would run out. The Fek'lhr sat, waiting for the arrival of the Tolan Strike Force.

[KBF-Kapact]

It arrived on scene on schedule, and Kroto watched angrily as it flew past him en masse. "Accelerate to attack speed! Follow the task force in." He saw on the screen as QroQ engaged the Romulan ships without hesitation. Disruptors and photon torpedoes all fired at once as QroQ's ship, the Qor'etlh, picked out the lead Romulan. It approached it with no regard to strategy or weapon arcs. Of course, the Ber'taa was usually strong enough to get away with that foolish tactic. But someday it would not.

The Romulan ship was of a design not seen outside the Star Empire until now. It followed the familiar design of a bird, but it was impossibly larger. Four massive warp nacelles underneath supported by twin pylons to port and starboard. The impulse deck extended out the rear like a tail. The beak was a massive disruptor, and, Kroto assumed, plasma torpedo launcher. The massive ship made no attempt to evade as the Qor'etlh's weapons impacted against its front shields.

"Scan the Romulan ship for damage." Kroto looked briefly at SuHo as he watched the battle.

SuHo watched the tactical display on her station. "Shields down only ten percent. Sensors recorded a strong EM pulse just as the Strike Force came into range. Electronic interference blanketed the area as the Qor'etlh launched its attack."


Kroto looked back at the screen in shock. The Qor'etlh seemed to be coming around slowly. "They hit."

"Yes. But the photon torpedoes had been rendered nearly inert by the pulse, and the disruptors were actually drained of most of their energy by the time they hit." SuHo continued to analyze the sensor readings as the Qor'etlh led the strike force in another full on attack. "I would recommend an oblique attack. The Romulan shields seem to turn aside the frontal attack most easily."

"Kroto! Attack, or die like a coward!" That was QroQ.

Kroto didn't answer immediately. He turned to SuHo. "Transmit your analysis to the Qor'etlh. Just in case he actually pays attention. Set course 135 mark 117. Maximum impulse. Bring us in and around the fleet."

The Fek'lhr leapt forward to catch the strike force. "Are the others joining the assault yet?" Kroto looked to where Kruge and his accompanying ships were.

"No, They are just sitting there."

Kroto almost screamed into the comm panel. "Kruge! What are you waiting for?"

Kruge grunted. "Watch and learn, Kroto. You don't get to be a Fleet Lord by throwing yourself away like a mad targh!" Kruge was laughing as Kroto cut the channel.

The Fek'lhr was coming in behind the Qor'etlh. It accelerated and swung to port hard as the Strike Force loosed its weapons. The Romulan shield turned away the weapons again as the Fek'lhr came alongside the Romulan. Two photon torpedoes launched. They were
followed by a full load of disruptors. Kroto waited for a flash on the screen to show that they had done some damage. The flash came, but from aft. "Reverse aspect on viewer."

The picture was awful. Plasma torpedoes pushed through the last glowing embers of the Qor'etlh. They caught the trailing ship of the task force. Shields flared, but the Klingon ship survived. Then another torpedo launched at the retreating ships.

"Emergency warp!" Kroto shouted. "Intercept that torpedo. Target lock!" The Fek'lhr dove in between the plasma torpedo and the retreating taskforce. "Fire all weapons!"

Disruptors flared, and the torpedo blew up. But the explosion sent the Bird of Prey reeling away. "Attitude control!" Kroto shouted as the Fek'lhr struggled to right itself.

When it finally did, Kroto saw the remaining ships of the Tolan Strike Force regrouping. This time they were using the oblique attack. "Finally. Follow them in."

The Romulan ship began to move...slowly. Very slowly. Kroto thought they were fortunate in that at least the ship was as slow as it was big. The plasma torpedo launcher flashed twice. "Evasive!" Kroto knew that his ship would have difficulty turning aside that much destructive energy. He looked at a rear scanner to see Kruge sitting there with his ships. The Fek'lhr slammed itself to port, trying to evade the plasma torpedoes. "Maximum impulse!" The Bird of Prey flew away from the Romulan and its weapons. "Launch countermeasures." A probe was ejected from the Fek'lhr's aft port that simulated the ships warp signature. "Cloak and evade!" The Fek'lhr vanished and threw itself away from the area at maximum sublight speed.

As the countermeasure probe launched, the Romulan fired rapid fire disruptors. They struck the slow moving probe, allowing the plasma torpedoes to re-acquire their intended target. By this time, however, the Fek'lhr was gone. So the plasma torpedoes locked onto the next ship in the Tolan Strike Force, the Relentless Class IKV Batlh'etlh. That ship was struggling to evade three Snipe Class warbirds. The plasma torpedoes came in behind the Batlh'etlh and hit the rear shields. The shields shattered, and Batlh'etlh fled the area. But it was too late. The Snipes each launched plasma torpedoes at the ship, tearing it apart.

The Snipes then turned, blanketing the last known coordinates and trajectory of the Fek'lhr with disruptor fire. They found, instead, the two cloaked Birds of Prey that were the fleeing remains of the Tolan Strike Force.


Kroto looked at SuHo and swore. "That is why the Empire is in so much trouble. We maintain alliances with enemies for the sake of politics. And we put fools and politicians in command of warships." He looked as the huge Romulan turned to search the area.


"The area is being swept by high level radiation. They might be able to detect us." SuHo sounded as if she was doomed and knew it.

"There are times, my friend, when it is wise to ask for help. Sometimes survival is its own reward." Kroto turned to the comm officer. "Contact Chang. Secure channel."

A moment later, Chang's voice came through the speakers. "What is it, Kroto?"

"General, we are betrayed. The Romulans have some sort of battleship, at least the equal of the QeylIS BetleH. The Tolan Strike Force has been destroyed. Kruge is here, but he has no interest in fighting the Romulans. All he cares about is his own power. General, I have sensor logs of the Romulan Battleship, but we may not survive. If you have any forces in the area, I must request assistance."

Chang sounded furious. "What? Kruge is supposed to be the next Fleet Lord, and he refuses to fight as our forces are destroyed? Kroto, I am on my way to Galorndan Core, but it will take me thirty minutes at maximum warp. Try to stay alive, but you must ensure the survival of those sensor logs. Put them in a cloaked buoy if you need to." Chang cut the channel without another word.

Kroto watched as the Romulan battleship turned slowly to survey the area and sweep it with radiation. "Take us in the direction of Kruge and his ships. If Kruge doesn't want to fight, he can sit and watch as his ship is blown apart around him."

The Fek'lhr sped away from the radiation sweeps and towards Kruge's ship. He noticed that the Romulans were not following. But he knew they would find them eventually.

It didn't take long. As the Fek'lhr passed by Kruge's ship, alarms went off. Kroto had been waiting to hear proximity alarms, but this was different. SuHo said it for him. "We are detected." The Snipe Warbirds flew to intercept the Fek'lhr. Plasma torpedoes flashed away from the ships as the Fek'lhr dove around Kruge's Ber'taa. Kroto noted that the Romulans made no move against Kruge. "Launch countermeasures. One towards the warbirds, and one at Kruge's ship."

The Fek'lhr came around Kruge's ship and swept away from it suddenly, depositing a magnetized countermeasure probe on its hull. "Maximum impulse. Prepare all space mines." The aft scanner showed that the Romulan battleship was moving to intercept. It moved slowly, but Kroto knew that it wouldn't take long to get into position to attack. "Program an emergency buoy with the sensor logs of the new Romulan ship."

SuHo was programming the buoy herself when suddenly the ship lurched. Her panel exploded, and she was on the deck. She heard the tactical officer behind her. "Disruptors from the battleship. Ventral shields are down." The Battleship had hit them with disruptors from twice the normal range. The ship shuddered, and more sparks flew. There was an explosion, and several audio alarms went off.

"Take her about!" Kroto stubbornly clung to the command chair. "Protect the ventral hull. Course 187 mark 75." The Fek'lhr reversed itself and went down, to protect the ships underbelly as damage control teams worked to bring the shield back up. An explosion
rocked the ship again, and a bridge bulkhead blew out. There was a scream of escaping atmosphere that Kroto had to shout to be heard above. "Emergency forcefields! Scan for plasma launches!"

"Scanners are gone." SuHo announced. "That was a plasma torpedo launched from one of the snipes at point blank. It obliterated the sensor package."

Kroto looked to the viewscreen, and sure enough, it was blank. "SuHo, take over helm. I want you to head directly away from the last known direction of those ships. We need distance."

"Sir, I have no idea where they are, or if I am taking us away from them. We are blind!"


Kroto looked into her eyes. "And dead if we don't get moving. I am ready to die, but I want the Empire to have those sensor logs. And I want to kill more Romulans before I die. I trust myself to your hunter's instincts." He steeled himself in his chair. "Best speed...to Sto'Vo'Kor!"

The Fek'lhr turned about and began to move away. It accelerated to full impulse, with the three Romulans in pursuit. Gone was any thought of what Kruge was doing there. Kroto decided that if he survived he would kill Kruge. "Prepare to eject space mines"

"My lord, we have no idea where those ships are...if they are behind, or..."

"Eject all space mines." At Kroto's order, the six space mines were ejected through the shielded port. He waited for the shock waves of exploding Romulan ships. No such luck. The ship shuddered as disruptors bracketed it. "Calculate the direction that came from, and head away from it." Another explosion rocked the bridge. Plasma torpedoes again. There was another explosion, and the Fek'lhr rocked again. "SuHo! Emergency buoy!"

"Ready!" She was back up, at her station. But she was forced to push her hands into the shattered console. She pulled out a coil of wires and was sorting through them to find the buoy ejection system.

"Eject the buoy!"

She pulled two wires out and used her teeth to remove insulation. Then she twisted them together. There was a thunk, and power shot through her body. She fell to the deck. "SuHo!" Kroto stood, looking at the body on the deck. But suddenly the comm speakers came to life.

"Kroto, this is Chang."

Kroto stood and looked at the speaker. "Yes General. We are being pursued-."

"I've discouraged the Romulans, Captain. The Battleship survived a direct hit from my assault phaser on unshielded hull and went to warp. The two snipes have been destroyed. Where is Kruge?"

Kroto sat back in his command chair and tried to forget about his stricken first officer. "He was there."

"He has escaped then. Never mind him, Kroto, Kahless will catch up with him. Anyone else will be stopped by the high council. I see you're scanners are gone. If you'll shut down your drive systems, I can tow you to a repair dock."

"Thank you General. I have to see to my wounded." A noise behind him made him jump. SuHo was standing. "But we will survive to fight again."

"We all will, Kroto. The coming years will be critical. As critical as our Empire has ever faced. And the enemy lies within."

[FPF-SCM_TraceyG_XC]

Quite a tour de force! Sorry it took so long to make a reply post, there was quite a bit of reading to get through. Your knowledge of Klingons is quite impressive, and you write very well too!! Nice use of background material from some of the Star Trek movies too!

[KBF-Kapact]

Quite a tour de force! Sorry it took so long to make a reply post, there was quite a bit of reading to get through. Your knowledge of Klingons is quite impressive, and you write very well too!! Nice use of background material from some of the Star Trek movies too!

Thanks my writer's ego needed a little scratch. It feels much better now My original idea was to write a Klingon TOS.... oh, moved frorward to TMP, but basically a small ship and crew and a background of galactic politics. Kruge would be an occasional background special guest-villain, and Chang as the Klingon Patton in the background.



When do we get another Empress chapter?



Cheers

[KBF-Kapact]

just a little BUMP to let you know I cleaned up some paragraph breaks. Makes it a bit more readable....


(thanks Chutt)

[KBF-Kapact]

Folks, I have posted my second "episode".... have a looksee.....



http://startrekenterprisevirtualseasons.blogspot.com/

[Hondo_8]

Captain Hondo sat soaking in his hot tub on the bridge of his Ship....USS Love Machine.   He had been drifting in space, on a two year binge.  He had lost contact with the Federation for over a year and the 1AF fleet for just as long.

"Captain scans indicate a heavy cruiser off the port....Klingon....unknown house."  Hondo finished his beer can and added to the pile of empties. "Shields Up" Hondo leaned forward in his hottub and belched as the Klingon ship appeared on the viewer.


"Sir..they are requesting our surrender?"  Hondo polished off his last can of beer off and added to the large pile.  "Tell em I already captured this ship and to find another ship to surrender."  The communication officer looked quizzically at Hondo...but dutifully relayed the Message.

As the exchange was taking place Hondo reached to the pile of empties and began bashing his forehead with the cans.


"Captain Hondo....the Klingon Captain is requesting communication with you"  The crumpled cans of beer floated in the Hot tub with a Captain Hondo and a very ruffed up Forehead. "On screen cutie"




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Comic relief