Embedded Files
Location: Qo'Nos Military HQ, Ra'Kaszh City (The Klingon Pentagon)
K'vrock entered. It had been years since the Klingon had set foot in this building. The very presence of it honored him. K'vrock had been away far too long. "General."
"Good to see you again, K'Vrock." Mekh'Tar grabbed the younger Klingon's hand in a hearty Klingon version of a handshake. "What news of your father?"
K'vrock snorted "He is angered over his wounds. Better to fall in battle. Still it has called me home again after far too long. My regret is missing the battle myself. Bah, I'm certain you didn't ask me here to discuss my father or my journey."
"The reason I have called you here is to discuss how your house can serve the Empire in it's time of need." Mekh'Tar walked over to his desk and sat down, gesturing for K'Vrock to do the same.
K'vrock sat. "I admit, you may know more than I. House Marstoq has been out of my thoughts, and I am a bit.....unsure of it's resources." K'vrock internally cursed himself for his far journey, removing him from the unrest and his house. "Still, how can we serve?"
"We are short on troops, and reconstruction has stretched funding." Mekh'Tar said solemnly. "I need to know how many troops your house can spare, and how many credits you're willing to spare. Keep in mind that we have detailed intelligence on your house, and I know what your strength is. You being here is a courtesy, I'm sad to say, not a necessity."
K'vrock thought for a moment. "Hmm, for the good of us all. House Marstoq will do whatever is asked. General, you may know my own capabilities better than I. An unpleasant result of my travels. Still,
I will speak with my father. Whatever you need of us, we shall give. I would rejoin the Defense Force if need be."
"That is good to hear." Mekh'Tar nodded. "During the war, we caught several of your House members participating in the assault on the capitol. What is your opinion of them?"
"Traitors. The entire lot. Where is the honor in it? General, I have returned now. When my father is well enough to represent the house once more, I stand ready to serve my people." K'vrock was still angered over the war, much less that some of his own family had participated. Still his father had brought honor to the house.
"I will hold you to it." Mekh'Tar said after a pause. "And it is good to hear that the Empire can count on the House Marstoq for support."
"What of the High Council? I received no news of it's standing. Surely these traitorous curs did not impede the Council?"
"The Chancellor's compound came under attack during the fighting in the capitol." The grizzled old general sighed. "He made it to his underground bunker in time, though many warriors were lost defending that old targ-" Mekh'Tar stopped himself. He took a breath before continuing. "Other than that, the entire council had been off-planet in observance of the holiday."
K'vrock nodded. "Well better it stand than the unglorious task of replacing an entire Council. I remember the last time we had a new Chancellor. Well General, back to our discussion." K'vrock had his father's blessing to pledge the support after all, even if K'vrock didn't have the exact numbers.
"Well then, K'vrock...." Mekh'Tar said, pulling up a screen on his desk. "With your blessings, I shall proceed to enlist three fourths of your house troops to help police the Province of Mawejh on the eastern continent. Your house will also be financially responsible for supporting the reconstruction of that district under the oversight of the government. A quarter of your house troops will be left to defend your holdings. If you have any reservists or any honor-bound retainers, I suggest you draft them now."
"I believe my father has already made those arrangements. General, if
I may be of any further assistance you know where to find me. I will have my cousin Golas prepare the troops for your deployment. I am pleased my house could be of use to the common good." K'vrock had a
deal of respect for the General. Mekh'Tar had left them in a good position and the arrangement was quite suitable.
"The Government thanks you for your assistance, K'vrock." Mekh'Tar extended an arm to grasp his. "This will not be forgotten."
"It is an honor to serve in this time of need. Perhaps it will be the final restoration in the return of house Marstoq to the glory we once held. " K'vrock hoped he could believe that. It had been far too long that he had been away. With his brother and his ship missing it had befallen him to represent his house. Indeed now that K'vrock had returned he was prepared to do whatever it took to make the house a powerful force in the government.
*********************
Location: Qo’Nos; The Great Hall of the High Imperial Council, Council chambers
Timeline: Just after the Rag’naRok’s arrive at Qo’Nos [and just before the To’Vars?]
The Rag’naRoK’s landing party arrived in the Klingon capitol, beaming directly into the High Council’s complex. The planetside crew was greeted by the sight of a clean, well-lit, and thoroughly efficient transporter room and reception area … and a wall of Imperial soldiers, on guard and ready for the first sign of trouble. While the Klinzhai military presence was always visible on the homeworld - especially in high-level government buildings – now it was simply everywhere.
Despite the wall of black body armor, the Rag’naRok’s were swiftly and efficiently waved through this secondary checkpoint. The years of warrior focus, not to mention the rush of continued good fortune, made the House regiment move like a regulated machine, without a single nervous look or betraying thought amongst them.
As the group marched through the massive corridor, they were the picture of old-fashioned Klingon nobility. Captain Tk’toK Rag’naRok strolled in front of the group, his battleship grey cloak sweeping behind him, the ‘decorative’ sidearm on his waist looking allot more menacing than it should. J’oK stomped a few feet behind the Captain, looking – in spite of his cleaned and pressed, dress-military appearance - like a fighting targ limping to it’s final match. Flanking the trio of officers was the resplendent Lurra Dk’tahg, her polished and well-cared for uniform offsetting her radiant copper skin and flowing, light-brown (almost blonde) warrioress’ mane. Bringing up the rear was a trio of fully-armored House guards, their flowing black capes emblazoned with old Klinzhai script and hieroglyphs, their faces concealed by cave-black blast-visors. Each soldier on either side carried a Bo-staff sized painstick (the Rag’naRok’s traditional House weapon), while the one in the center carried a black and silver flag of the House standard on an upturned spear.
As the group finished the last few meters of their journey, they were given a wide berth. While the presence of such a regal group of dignitaries might draw too many unwanted stares anywhere else, in the Council Hall they were just another bunch of … politicians.
Finally the group arrived at the entrance to the Council chambers. The Captain announced a sharp halt, and they all waited at the entrance, while Tk’toK simply stared at the doors. “Chng’Tho!” He then barked, waving his entourage forward – while he himself bore through with his ‘head down and his heart forward’ (leading the diplomatic mission like a battle charge).
Once inside the main Council chamber, the Ragn’naRok’s leader suddenly took a different approach, completely. Waving his troops to an at-attention-halt, Tk’toK dropped to one knee, and bowed his head, reverently, before High Chancellor M’Relkan. The remainder of his group followed the Captain’s lead (with the exception of J’ok; who stood standing a second longer – until he felt the familiar hum of a painstick charging up behind his knees).
M'Relkan, in his typical ceremonial fashion, raised a single arm, indicating for the party to rise. "Your respects to the council is acknowledged." He said.
Shooting M'Relkan a dirty look, Mekh'Tar could barely contain his irritation at the pathetic old man. He'd clung to power even after the blunders that led to the civil war. Mekh'Tar himself had personally tried to have him removed, but there was just not enough political will to do it in the council.
[What now?] Rodek To’Var thought.
The tall, elegant, older woman at the Council table was staring down at the ‘diplomatic’ delegation with a look of dispassionate disinterest. Reclining back in her chair, her long, manicured fingertips steepled under her chin – she reflected all the charisma of a Vulcan psychologist … A strange contrast to the overwhelmingly tense and paranoid, if polite, atmosphere of the Council chamber. “Just get them talking, there’s no need to get angry – yet.” If some small voice within Cha’riana Dk’tahg repeated this mantra, she wasn’t aware of it; the technique was now second-nature to the Klingon matriarch. “Useful with dishonorable Captains, corrupt Houses, and mischievous children and husbands alike!” (As she would often joke)
D’eVo Dk’tahg kept himself from snarling with disgust at the sickening display of ‘patriotism’ from the Rag’naRok’s. Instead, he only glared out, sullenly, at the proceedings, keeping his mouth shut as he slouched in the ‘guest’ chair next to his adoptive Klingon mother. “This should be interesting” D’eVo whispered, dryly, sidling in close (so as not to be overheard) …
He turned to check her reaction, and immediately turned back away. “I’ve seen THAT look before” D’eVo thought, turning his attention back to the spectacle on the presentation floor.
After finishing his elaborate bow, Captain Rag’naRok then advanced forward, directly approaching the Council. “Chancellor, esteemed Council …” As the Captain greeted the executives of the Klingon empire, he calmly retrieved a coin-sized data disc from an inside pocket of his outer robe, while his other hand pulled out a handheld playback device (never once taking his eyes away from the Chancellor and His Council). “May I?” he asked, holding up the disc with one hand. After receiving the barest assertion from his audience, Tk’toK then slid the media into a slot on the device, and continued. “This woman …” he said, even as the image of a young, attractive human female appeared, floating in mid-air above his head. “This … HUMAN” he specified “has been the acting head of House To’Var for some time now. She is NOT bonded to a Klingon male, as is usually the case in these situations. She chooses to remain unmarried, and still maintain the privileges of her title. We cannot allow such a deliberate contempt for our traditions to continue!” Wasting no time, he went straight for the sales pitch: “As you may know, our forces were instrumental in defeating the rebels during the recent troubles here on the homeworld.” Ignoring the sharp, shocked silence, he continued; “And our humble House would like to offer a solution, as well. We would like to present, for the Council’s consideration …”
“She’s not acting Head of House,” Ro’dek shouted, as he strode up to the front of the room. Standing next to Capt. Rag’naRok, but not acknowledging him in any way, he saluted, and said, “Forgive me, but I could not stand by and hear my sister-in-law slandered.” Turning to face the assembly, he said, “Diana Hunter To’var, daughter of Adm. Grant Armstrong Hunter, and wife to my brother Ta’rok--a warrior who shot down seven Jem’Hadar fighters during the Dominion War--IS Head of House, by our traditions of inheritance and personal combat.” Turning back to the Council, he said, “As for privileges, the only privilege she knows is the honor of defending our people and way of life.”
“May I remind the Chancellor’s guests that these proceedings are official business of the Empire, NOT a schoolyard fight.” Cha’riana Dk’tahg interrupted, the ambient white light of the chamber reflecting off her silver mane like a halo. “Now, I believe Captain Rag’naRok still had the floor …”
Ro’dek acknowledged the woman’s request, stepped back, and allowed the Captain to continue.
J’oK Rag’naRok was staring absently into space, when he realized that someone was motioning towards him. Instantly waking up, he snapped to attention and marched forward. “I am sai-ves’taiLieutenant J’oK Rag’naRoK, son of Z’azz, House of Rag’naRoK. I have served the Empire in the Battle for Situ IV, and I offer titles, ships and lands. I have come here to demand my rights as a KLINGON suitor … for the good of the Empire!” J’oK then turned (after an appropriate moment of respectful glaring at his superiors) back to his Captain, who nodded at him, and returned to his earlier position (behind Tk’toK).
“Our traditions, our unique cultural identity, must be preserved at all costs. We ask nothing from you …. We only ask to serve, yet again.” The Klingon Captain then stepped back, saying nothing more. The words he chose to close with were clear, and short. But, he knew, the implied political threat, not to mention the somewhat blatant bid for power inherent in his statement was MORE than sufficient.
M'Relkan shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. It was a hard decision to make, seeing as the council was split over the issue of house Rag'Narok. It was clear the house had supplied most of the troops and funding for the traitor ship, Honor Blade, but then again, several key members of the Dk'tahg house were the brains of the operation. Condemning the Rag'Naroks would have meant wholesale condemnation of several major houses with strong political ties. But then again, forcing an honorable house like the To'Vars into such a union would be a political catastrophe.
Ro’dek risked the council’s displeasure, and interrupted again, “My sister-in-law has given her word, and I believe that she desires a warrior husband. My objection is that this…” Ro’dek made circles in the air with his right hand--he simply could not find the right word.” Starting over, Ro’dek said, “That is, why should he be given any special consideration. There have been several honorable offers of marriage from neighboring houses. These warriors are courting her according to Klingon tradition, which they,” (he tipped his head in the Rag’NaRoks direction, acknowledging them for the first time), “they claim is important to them.”
“Are we Klingons, or Ferengi slave traders, that we give females away to the highest bidder?” Ro’dek asked.
Cha’riana Dk’tahg, instead of growing agitated and angry at the man’s traitorous words, instead only regarded him coolly; sitting back in her chair and scrutinizing Captain Rag’naRok with suspicious disdain.
K'Vrock sat quietly, taking it all in. He had no love for this sort of politics, but his father had made a request. Now he used it as a chance to find his father allies in their distrust of this proposed marriage. Even to hear that it was Rag'NaRoks behind this put K'Vrock in a state of unease. If they kept up at this pace there would be another civil war.
D’eVo, on the other hand, was squirming in his seat. When he heard the Captain talk about his family defended the Empire, it took every bit of self-control not to jump, screaming, out of his chair. “DEFENDED?! YOU PROBABLY WERE BEHIND IT!!!” his inner voice shouted out, as he leaned forward, looking at the traveling House party like he was ready to leap over the railing at them at any moment.
When the Rag’naRok’s presented J’oK as their solution to Diana To’Var’s upcoming nuptials, D’eVo actually turned to look at each of the individual’s seated at the conference table, shocked that the Council would even entertain such a preposterous proposal. He knew what most of the Klingon public didn’t; “That man is an honorless MURDERER! If the Council doesn’t know, I have a pretty good idea who was behind that, too!!” As he thought, he didn’t notice that he was now crouching in his chair, his fingertips digging into the armrests.
The Chancellor weighed these thoughts before taking a breath to speak: "I believe-"
"STOP!" The shout echoed throughout the council hall, startling everyone. It had come from General Mekh'Tar.
M'Relkan shot daggers at the old general, wanting nothing more than to cast him out of the council chambers for his disrespectful outburst, but following the battle, Mekh'Tar had been elevated to political godhood. Certainly not yet in a position to overrule the Chancellor, but certainly strong enough to be immune to anything M'Relkan could throw at him.
"What. Is. It........GENERAL?" M'Relkan growled.
"Perhaps this matter is best discussed in private." Mekh'Tar replied coolly. "We must take time to give the Rag'Narok's request the proper forethought and wisdom." The General practically spat when he mentioned the house's name.
M'Relkan harrumphed and inflated his chest before replying: "Very well...everyone out!"
“The Rag’na’roks have presented a well rehearsed argument,” Rodek said. “Does House To’var not have an opportunity to speak as well.”
K'Vrock eyed the Chancellor. So it had come to closed door discussions and rehearsed speeches had it? His house and family had nothing but respect for Mekh'Tar and he was relieved the General had the Chancellors ear, however unwillingly. The entire thing was becoming the equivalent of what Humans referenced as a circus. K'Vrock took the chance to speak. "Let House To'var have their say. Everyone else has."
The High Council chamber was silent – save for the sounds of exiting footfalls and the loud creak of the ornate, antique, wooden doors opening and closing – as the Chancellor and his scattered Council watched the Rag’naRok’s leave.
After the last armored soldier marched smartly out of the room (holding out his House standard like he was bringing up a parade), and the massive, oaken double doors creaked shut, all eyes turned to the Chancellor.
"I am for this union." The Chancellor began. "There has been much discontent and controversy over Miss Hunter's position as head of house To'Var. This will quell the debate and promote unity within the houses."
After waiting an appropriate time before addressing the Chancellor directly, the first voice to speak was that of the Dk’tahg clan’s matriarach. “Is this even worth the Council’s time? I ask this with all respect, my Chancellor …” Cha’riana Dk’tahgs words were measured and well-chosen, and her voice perfectly enunciated and accented for a woman of her class and distinction. After completing the thought, she finished her query: “Considering how much work we have to do, rebuilding the capital city, repairing the defense grid, rooting out KLF factions both on-world and off. Should the marital status of a minor House Mistress be the Council’s concern, right now?” As she spoke, Cha’riana felt D’eVo start forward several times, almost interrupting her (she stopped the intrusions before they could slip out with a calm, reassuring hand on her Terran son’s shoulder – reminding him of the importance of decorum, the chain of command, and not speaking before thinking … all with a simple, gentle, unspoken gesture).
"Well said, Mistress Dk'tahg." Mekh'Tar chimed in.
K'Vrock raised a single brow. An unforseen opinion, but possibly another ally? His father wanted him to help Diana and House To'var anyway he could. Perhaps this was an opening? " The Mistress makes a
very valid point. Should not the reconstruction of our lands be our priority?"
"This has everything to do with the reconstruction!" M'Relkan insisted. "The fighting that broke out has reopened wounds between the Houses. Many took this as an opportunity to spill blood over old feuds." Turning to K'Vrock, the Chancellor raised a hand to indicate the stand-in head of house. "K'Vrock is here as a stand-in because his father was injured in such a fight! If we don't do something to unify the houses and quell the unrest, we'll have a house civil war!"
K'Vrock made a slight bow at the acknowledgement. "And do not allow yourselves to believe that House Marstoq will not fight for the Empire, for it's restoration. This is a matter beneath us. Why waste time with this when the restoration of our Empire is more important. Let the woman decide who she will marry. Let us decide how to rebuild."
“We are at peace with our neighbors,” Rodek said, “and Diana is sincere about restoring order to the empire. She has been interviewing a number of possible candidates, and it is still three months before the agreed upon deadline.” Rodek looked at the faces of the men and women around the conference table. “All other suitors approached Diana directly, why should J’ok Rag’na’rok get special consideration from this council? What does he have in common with my brother? How is he a hero?”
D’eVo Dk’tahg couldn’t believe what he was hearing: The fact that the Council was even wasting time on ‘wedding planning’, not to mention “dealing with a bunch of traitors and cowards like the Rag’naRok’s!” had his blood boiling. Try as he might, he couldn’t contain himself any longer. He shot out of his chair, standing up and addressing the council (in a VERY loud voice); “The Rag’naRok’s have been involved in criminal enterprises for YEARS, including crimes against the Empire!” After getting no response, save for polite, strained tolerance for his outburst, he carried on. “I know, for a fact, that this ‘J’ok Rag’naRoK’ is suspected of rape, murder, and gods-know-what, in AND out of Imperial space! Does the council really want to force the To’Vars to accept this mate, and for what?! What, some dusty old tradition that nobody else even cares about anymore?!!” Ignoring the subtle looks of disapproval and embarrassment from ‘mom’, he went straight for the closer: “If the Rag’naRok’s gain a foothold in ANY major House, mark my words, they will not stop until the Empire is theirs!!!”
Rodek didn’t recognize the warrior standing beside Mistress Dk’tagh. He nodded his head in the man’s direction, to show both agreement with, and appreciation for, his remarks.
"Young Dk'tahg, you are here as a GUEST. You would do well to remember that!" M'Relkan couldn't believe the way HIS council was behaving. Didn't the title of Chancellor mean anything any more?
“Please excuse the young man, my Chancellor.” Char’iana said (after a brief, charged look was passed between mother and son). “His outburst was uncalled for, but his reasoning is sound. There has been discussion, even in these chambers, about the ‘Rag’naRok problem.’ Lack of proof doesn’t guarantee lack of guilt.” She quoted, resorting to a well-worn axiom of the Klingon legal system. Before letting the meeting resume, Cha’riana Dk’tahg then reasserted her early position, backing up Rodek while she did; “Again, why is this even being debated in the Council chambers? I fail to see the importance of this, but I AM starting to question the Rag’naRok’s motives in all this … And I, for one, didn’t trust them to begin with!”
"I agree with the young man." Mekh'Tar said. "We cannot allow the Rag'Naroks any more political or economic power. Handing over House To'Var would only benefit their traitorous goals."
"Who said we were handing anything over?" M'Relkan gave Mekh'Tar a sly smile. "Who among us knows Diana Hunter? Raise your hand?"
Cha’riana Dk’tahg raised her hand, briefly, before lowering it again, and muttered (while intently looking at her notes); “Perhaps we should offer the services of the Klingon Imperial Guard to chaperone any future relationships, just to prevent this sort of thing from happening …”
Rodek raised his left hand, as he covered his lips with his fist. It was difficult to keep from smiling--the visual imagery was quite amusing. Still, the thought of someone as close to him as a real sister, sharing a bed with that vulgar, misanthropic, homicidal, idiotic excuse for a Klingon warrior made his blood run hot.
D’eVo looked around before raising his hand. While he didn’t know Diana personally, (“I did read her file – TWICE!” he thought) he knew the risks of not supporting her and her House against the Rag’naRok’s power-grab. And, he reasoned, he knew what it was like to be a human in a Klingon House, and, what it was like to be the victim of an arranged marriage, as well.
K'Vrock could not raise his hand. His father could, but....K'Vrock sighed. Still, he saw the sentiment of some and exchanged a knowing look with Mekh'Tar and D'eVo. K'Vrock knew of his father's distrust of
the Rag'naRok's.
Nodding, M'Relkan continued. "You who know her, do you think that she is a great warrior? A strong woman?"
Cha’riana Dk’tahg looked around at the faces of the other Council members and other assorted delegates. She was beginning to suspect where the Chancellor was going with this, and was hoping that her suspicions were only the paranoid worries of an old woman. Seeing the curious, dumfounded looks from some of her colleagues, Cha’riana’s ‘paranoid’ suspicions began to take form as good old-fashioned woman’s intuition, instead of the nitpicking worries of an elderly Klingon matriarch.
Rodek nodded ’yes,’ but didn’t like where this was going.
D’eVo Dk’tahg dropped his hand in a hurried ‘Not ‘it’!’ motion, once he realized what the Chancellor was doing. “He’s turning this into a personal contest between J’ok Rag’naRok and Diana Hunter!” He thought, shocked by the leader’s simple logic and manipulative politicking. “Doesn’t he realize what the Rag’naRok’s are actually capable of?!” he wondered, angrily keeping his counsel to himself (although to any but the most casual observer, the visible signs of his rage were blatantly obvious: he was leaning forward in his chair, gripping the arm-rests in a death-choke, and there was much angry scowling and gnashing of teeth).
K'Vrock hadn't seen such a switch and bait done so well since he had served with a very crafty Federation Ambassador named Frost. The Chancellor was actually pitting it as Diana against J'ok? K'Vrock almost laughed at the folly of it. As if J'ok were bright enough to weave this web on his own? No he was indeed turning a blind eye to just what the Rag'NaRoks were willing to do for power.
"Then let me ask you this: after seeing that pile of targ droppings, do you really think the Rag'Naroks have ANY CHANCE of laying claim to the To'Vars power or fortune? Do you think he has the ability to command a woman like Diana Hunter to do his traitorous bidding?" M'Relkan looked around. "In this marriage, it will be SHE who dominates HIM! With the Rag'Naroks tied up trying to submit the will of Mistress To'Var, they will be delayed from making any move on the current reconstruction! Better yet, since Diana will have family status, she can have a hand in the Rag'Narok political process, able to supply us with information on their movements, possibly even to sow discord from WITHIN the house!"
"You speak like a dirty Romulan!" Mekh'Tar snapped.
"No one in this chamber can deny that this is true." M'Relkan said, looking around. "An opportunity has presented itself. An opportunity that will give us the advantage over the Rag'Naroks' political power. We can either take advantage of it, give the Rag'Naroks the illusion that they've won a victory here, thus lulling them into complacency, or we can cast it aside and allow them to go into hiding to scheme against us again!"
"And you're willing to sacrifice Diana in order to do so???" The old General said, staring at the Chancellor.
"She is a warrior. She knows her duty." M'Relkan folded his arms. Now, who is with me?"
Cha’riana Dk’tahg simply looked down at her notes; unwilling to give even the slightest hint of approval at what the Chancellor was proposing, but also unwilling to openly challenge the (already-decided) plans of her Chancellor.
“She is a warrior,” Rodek agreed, “not a whore. You are asking my sister to prostitute herself!”
D’eVo Dk’tahg – after a brief sigh of exasperation – politely raised his hand to speak, and then stood up (certain his meek gesture would be mistaken as a ‘yes’ vote) to address the gathering directly. “Chancellor M’relkan, esteemed Council …” he announced “I must agree with Rodek. We wouldn’t ask this of a Klingon Mistress-of-House, and I don’t think making an exception of Diana Hunter is in the Empire’s best interests. The xenophobic elements within our society will most likely only see this as a policy of appeasement. And I doubt this alone will satisfy them. It is time to unify the Empire, not further divide it by interfering in marital disputes between Houses.” With that, he gathered up his robes and sat back down; still angry, but feeling somewhat vindicated of his earlier impulsive outburst.
K'Vrock narrowed his gaze. He nodded. "House Marstoq is compelled to agree as well." K'Vrock know simply hoped Rodek would catch on to his slightly veiled support.
"I am not asking her to sleep with anyone!" M'Relkan said, exasperation evident in his voice. "I ask her simply to wed this man so that we may benefit from the political ramifications of this marriage! If I remember correctly, J'ok doesn't fancy HUMANS any more than your House Mistress would fancy HIM!"
[What is marriage without sex,] Rodek wondered, but remained silent.
"Then we shall put it to a vote!" M'Relkan was completely fed up with arguing with his council. "Keep in mind, we need to uphold tradition! The people will not abide by a non-Klingon in control of a major house! We also need this opportunity to use her against the Rag'Naroks, to thwart their plans! I ask again, who is with me?"
<< Everyone >>
K'Vrock hung his head as he watched the support grow. So the Council would force this marriage, even if the marriage itself caused another war? K'Vrock needed to relay this to his father. It was time to begin a plan, for not if, but when the Rag'naRoks made their move.
Cha’riana Dk’tahg only looked up, briefly, from her PADD to gauge the crowd’s reaction to the vote. After seeing that most of the attendees were in favor of the proposal, she returned to her notes, with a brief (almost imperceptible), tsk-tsk’ing shake of her head. She tapped out a few shorthand characters onto the touchscreen, before returning her attention to the troubling Council proceedings.
D’eVo Dk’tahg, on the other hand, only stood, gathered up his notes, then turned and marched out of the Council Chamber. For all of the debate, his non-verbal display of disagreement spoke louder than any of the bellicose Klingon speeches delivered in the past hour (or the scattered, conversations currently being whispered between delegates).
Mekh'Tar kept his hand down, angrily glaring at anyone who dared to raise theirs.
In the end, the hands outnumbered the dissenters. M'Relkan nodded in satisfaction, taking great pleasure in his victory. "Very well then. By mandate of the Council, we hereby order Mistress To'Var to wed J'ok Rag'Narok, to take place immediately!"
<< Everyone >>
Cha’riana Dk’tahg discreetly pressed the ‘send’ icon on her PADD, hoping that the vague message to her husband would be safe from prying eyes. After shutting off the device, she simply closed her eyes and uttered a silent prayer: for the Empire; for Diana Hunter and her House, and; for her wayward Terran son; whom she was sure was ready, able and MORE than willing to take matters into his own, ‘very capable’, hands!
*****************************
Location: Qo'Nos
Timeline: During "negotiations" for Diana's hand
Ah'Qwa tried to make sense of the latest events as he knew them regarding Diana Hunter.
Following his last meeting with her, he had returned to his ship, the IKS Quet'Zol to consider whether or not he should pursue the notion of marriage to the human woman to create a lasting alliance between their two houses, To'Var and Lorat. Ms. Hunter had given him much to think about, and in the end he'd decided that his life and that of his children would be too complicated by her presence. Upon return to the bridge to deliver his withdrawal of his proposition, he had been confronted by a mystery; the arrival of yet another Klingon vessel. This time it was the IKS Vok'Tor under command of Captain Ik'Tar.
The communications officer aboard the Vok'Tor had sent the following message and then closed the channel abruptly. "=/\= The Valkyrie and her crew are to be escorted back to Qo'Nos immediately by order of the High Council. Do not interfere in this matter. =/\="
He watched the viewscreen as the Valkyrie disappeared from site under the watchful eye of the Vok'Tor. Something in his gut twisted with the sensation of 1000 Rigelian bloodworms thrashing wildly as they devoured each other and him. 'Why.' He'd wondered then, 'would the High Council had sent for the Valkyrie in this fashion.' Despite his decision to remove himself from contention ultimately he'd decided to get to the bottom of the situation and followed the preceding two ships at a respectful distance.
Now, days later, back on Qo'Nos more had come to light due to well placed informants within the Council's walls. House Rag'Na'Rok was attempting to force the issue of Diana Hunter's wedding to a Klingon, and they had presented their own candidate, JoK Rag'NaRok. Ah'Qwa distrusted the Peh'Taq who was head of that house with every fiber of his being. It was obvious that Tk'Tok was after something bigger than the lady's hand. More than likely it amounted to gaining even more House lands and prestige to validate themselves. This was something Ah'Qwa knew well. The next question for Ah'Qwa was, What if anything, should he do about it?
*********************
Location: Vas'Krin's private office
K'Vrock looked over the message again. Why was the Council concerning itself with the affairs of a human woman, even if she was running House To'Var. Something about the whole thing seemed wrong to him.
After all, the woman had been wed to a friend of K'Vrock's father. Vas'Krin wasn't known for his subtle opinions and if he hadn't complained when Diana had taken over the house, K'Vrock stopped.
What if this was all a ploy? Even if it was, what could be done. Bah, it was tradition and the way things were handled. House Marstoq was in no position to be bidding on the hand of a woman anyway. Still K'Vrock wondered if this were being done willingly.
Vas'Krin had been concerned, and K'Vrock had rarely seen the old Klingon be sentimental about many people. When he had asked K'Vrock to check into it, he had gladly complied. After all, K'Vrock knew as soon as the old targ was better, the sooner he could get back to the life he had enjoyed before the damnable civil war had brought him home.
K'Vrock decided perhaps it best to see who else he might ally with. Perhaps his father was not alone in questioning this matter. So K'Vrock would honor his father's wish and represent the house at this
wedding.
************************
Location: Council chambers
Characters: Chancellor M'Relkan, General Mekh'Tar, various council members, J'ok, Lurra?, Diana
As M'Relkan entered the room, the whole council stood to render the traditional respects to the Chancellor. M'Relkan motioned as he took his seat, and the council followed suit. He was pleased to see that the Rag'na'Roks and the To'Vars were already present.
Clearing his throat, the Chancellor spoke. "Diana Hunter of the House To'Var..... step forward."
Diana had been expecting something like this. She walked forward slowly, with her head held high. Warriors stepped aside, and allowed her to pass. She was graceful and regal. There was no sign of the trepidation she felt within.
"Your house has faithfully served the Empire without fail and the actions of the IKV Valkyrie on the day of the Honor Blade Battle do nothing but credit that esteemed tradition." As the Chancellor spoke, Mekh'Tar gave Diana a small smile and a wink.
Diana smiled back. He looked fatherly standing up front, beside the Chancellor. It was a simple gesture by a great warrior. Mekh’Tar was venerated for both his military tactics, and his personal code of honor. [Things can’t have gone too far south, if the general were involved,] she thought.
"Therefore, in recognition of the Valkyrie's pivotal role in the battle, I do hereby present your house the Order of the Bloodstone." M'Relkan gestured and two members of the Imperial Guard stepped forward with a blood-red stone set in a bladed, subdued steel cradle. The stone glittered in the light, matching the consistency of fresh spilt blood. He continued to speak as the warriors placed the object in Diana's hands. "This stone was mined from the ancestral home province of Kahless. Legends say that he wore one to every battle, and that all of his lieutenants carried a similar stone around their necks. This was to signify their blood oaths as warriors to be loyal to their cause, and more importantly, to each other. Let this stone be granted to your House, and all your descendants, as a symbol of the allegiance you have shown the Empire through your valorous actions. Honor be upon you."
"FOR THE BLOOD WE SPILL TOGETHER!!" The warriors of the Imperial Guard roared. Dust shook from the rafters at the power of their voices. However, the actual council members themselves stayed eerily silent. The expressions on their faces were steely, eyeing Diana with disdain rather than admiration for the actions of her house.
When Diana first assumed her role as head of house, she sent one of her brother-in-laws to represent the house at council. Back then, she wasn’t ready to face an entire hall full of warriors who hated and resented her, for no other reason than she was human--a human with Klingon land, a ship, and most of all, a title. She re-established House To’var as her husband wished. She now had more land, several ships, and a title that mattered. Members of the council had been very supportive of her efforts, and she was happy to give to her adopted (Klingon) homeworld. Still, Klingons who didn’t know her, resented her. [So why then, had things changed?] she wondered.
Diana bowed and said, “Thank you, Excellency, members of the Council, but my family, my crew, only did their duty, they only did what any true Klingon would have done under the same circumstances.”
<<Council--lead on, Tim>
*****************************
Location: Initial location; The IKV Bloodline (House Rag’naRok); crew quarters …
Timeline: After the Rag’naRok’s meeting with the Klingon Chancellor / High Council
J’oK Rag’naRok stood in front of his comm. panel; cleaned, dressed, and freshly schooled in the finer points of human etiquette (“Don’t yell at your date, unless absolutely necessary … humans don’t appreciate raw meat the way we do”, etc.) A one-way, holographic test pattern scrolled down in front of his eyes, and Captain Rag’naRoK stood in the corner (out of view of the audio-visual sensor). The Captain pulled a remote control unit out of his jacket pocket (the same one controlling the agonizer grafted onto Jok’s spine; and the same one also controlling the explosives in his cardiovascular system), and gave the unpowered unit’s panic button once; a not-so-subtle piece of ‘incentive’ for the young Rag’naRok’s performance.
After a brief nod from (disgraced) Lieutenant to Captain and back, the transmission began. =^= This message is for Diana ToVar, Captain of the IKS Valkyrie. I am Lieutenant … Commander … of the IKV Bloodline. =^= Obviously ignoring the low growl this drew out of Lurra Dk’tahg, he continued, in a forced-calm, groomed voice; =^= I would like to arrange a social meeting with you; where will exchange small talk and eat food. =^= After a brief glance at his off-camera ‘director’, J’ok finished: =^= Or some other suitable activity, if you wish. Please contact me at your earliest convenience.Good day. =^=
Captain Tk’tok Rag’naRoK immediately shut down the ship-to-ship message (somewhat impressed by the young man’s performance), and allowed J’oK Rag’naRok a chance to explode. J’ok tore off the dress tunic he was wearing and threw it to the ground, shrieking and quivering in dismal rage. The fading self-control evident at the end of his ‘invitation’ had now degenerated to a display of sheer animal bloodlust and chest-pounding (and impotent) threats. “I will take my time with this human … tah’Qeq! She will beg me to end her … long before I AM DONE WITH HER!!!” he began to shout, focusing his menacing glare directly at the nearest female…
Lurra Dk’tahg only returned J’oK’s bullying stare with her own calm gaze of warrior resolve and martial confidence. The only reaction to J’ok RagnaRok’s idiotic exhibition was the same low growl she uttered when he mentioned his former (and her current) rank and position, along with a neat folding of arms across her chest. “Go ahead. Fool. CHARGE ME.” She thought, more than ready for the clumsy brute, and itching for any excuse to discharge her ‘executive duties’ aboard her ship (such as severely beating – sometimes fatally - any disobedient underlings under her watch) against this ‘sad excuse for a Klingon.’
“STOP THIS! NOW.” Captain Tk’tok Rag’naRoK’s voice boomed out. “Commander: return to the bridge, and await me there. We must make our preparations for phase two. And YOU …” he paused, and with a grumpy sigh, finished “LIEUTENANT, do what you can to calm yourself. You must be ready to perform again, as soon as Diana ToVar accepts your invitation. Or would you prefer I kill you now, and simply take her House all for myself?”
While Lurra Dk’tahg only turned and started marching neatly out of the room, J’ok was still growling at the floor. Approaching the feral Klingon directly, Captain Rag’naRoK commented, gently; “Do not concern yourself with the human playacting you must suffer. As soon as you are wed and titled, you may kill the human woman at your convenience. You just need to keep it secret, of course.” As this seemed to calm the younger warrior, the Captain finished, asking; “You do remember how to keep these things secret don’t you, J’ok?” Tk’tok was determined to stay in the crew cabin as long as necessary to convince the young man, without having to kill him (“yet”). While the bad Captain had no intention of ‘giving the bastard a thing’, he knew how necessary the otherwise-useless disruptor fodder was. He was so wrapped up in comforting J’oK, he barely noticed Lurra’s hurried, efficient exit out of the room …
---------
Location: Qo’Nos; The Great Hall of the High Imperial Council, reception area
Timeline: Just after the Rag’naRok’s meeting with Chancellor M’relkan and the High Council; before D’eVo (Calvin) goes back to the Axel to recruit from the crew
D’eVo Dk’tahg stormed out of the Council chambers; pulling off the Dk’tahg emblazoned ceremonial robes as the door closed behind him. The robes, a traditional garment going back to the earliest days of the Klinzhai planetary democracy, were now as cumbersome and pointless as the meeting D’eVo just had to suffer through.
In the first days of the fledgling Klinzhai republic, weapons were banned in the Council Halls and Chancellor’s chambers. In response, Klingon politicians started wearing thick, obscuring cloaks, in order to hide small hand-weapons; blades, clubs, even firearms (projectile guns or the newest novelty energy pistols). If the meeting wasn’t proceeding in their favor, they would simply reach into their clothes, pull out the handiest weapon, and physically silence their opposition, right on the Council floor. If there was a sufficient enough majority to oppose the Chancellor, it wasn’t unheard of for a gang of Councilors and their supporters to bum-rush the head of the table, forcing a change of administration right there and then. This sort of ‘instant democracy’, of course, caused many more problems than it solved, and soon it was apparent that certain changes in Klinzhai ‘parliamentary procedure’ were sorely needed. For some time, it was required that all visitors and members of the Council were to openly display, and later relinquish, any and all weapons in the pursuit of official government business. After a time, with the advent of Imperial and House bodyguards and official ‘keepers’, along with improvements in weapons scanning and suppression technologies, the need for a toothless council was discarded. And the robes came back; a recognition of those dark days, as well as a subtle reminder of how fragile power was, even in the relatively peaceful and modern Klingon executive democracy. While the executions and bloody promotions still common in the military services went unchecked (and were even accepted, either officially or otherwise, amongst the ruling elite), the Klingon High Council - at least on the surface - attempted to maintain some, galactically accepted, form of decorum.
As D’eVo stared down at the pile of thick black fabric – outlined with purple and silver trim, the magenta House crest staring back up at him like Kahless’ eye – he suddenly became very nostalgic for the days of Klingon ‘direct democracy.’ “I had the high ground; hell with a tripod and a decent biosigns scope, I could’ve ended the meeting half-an-hour ago!” Shaking away the comforting – if completely unrealistic – thought, he adjusted his leather vest and honor sash, and bent down to gather up his robes.
His ceremonial garment balled up and stuffed under the crook of one arm, D’eVo approached the guard station to his left. The station, manned by two very bored looking male security guards, contained a small desk and chair on a raised platform, along with a data terminal, and small, two-person transporter pad behind it. As he shuffled forward (moving somewhat awkwardly), the ‘superior’ officer (neither one carried any noticeable rank insignia) sitting behind the desk, looked up from his newsfeeds, and gruffly asked; “What do YOU want?!” (“Q’pla?!”)
“I need transport off world …” D’eVo replied, producing the necessary clearance codes and ID card. As the clerk began checking him through, the system generated a ‘hold’ alert, and he looked up at the visiting dignitary: “Wait here. Apparently someone on the Council wants to talk to you.” In response to D’eVo’s surprised, and annoyed, expression, the guard politely added: “That’s all for now. Go away.”
As D’eVo started to head back towards the Council chambers, the doors suddenly opened, revealing a very concerned-looking, hurried Cha’riana Dk’tahg. “We need to talk!” she commanded, before D’eVo himself even had a chance to speak …
TBC
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