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.
Topic: The Empress of the Empire (Read 10700 times)