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Author Topic: Star Trek: Klingons defiant (m looking for f)  (Read 217 times)

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Offline Darthvegeta800Topic starter

Star Trek: Klingons defiant (m looking for f)
« on: June 06, 2013, 12:44:40 PM »
ATMOSPHERIC TEASER FOR IDEA NR1 (see next post for Idea 2)

The bird-of-prey sat in orbit.
The captain seated in the command chair. Brooding and annoyed, her fingers folded together she contemplated his options.
"Status?" she growled. The communications officer replied "Scanning continues. We should have finished in two hours" he stated.
His superior growled again in annoyance.
To her all this was unbecoming of a Klingon Warrior. Ever since the Dominion War she had craved a true challenge.
A year had passed since the last battle. An entire year! And that last battle had barely been worthy of note. It was unlikely many would sing epic songs about her battle with a lone pirate raider of a subpar people in a backward sector at the fringes of the Empire...
It was then that the communications officer spoke once more. Clad in Klingon armor, the old warrior had greying hair and a scarred face "Incoming message captain. It is a signal from a Federation vessel under attack. It is requesting assistance from any nearby ships."
This made her blood boil. She grinned. An opportunity for battle! And since there was an alliance with the Federation, she had a legitimate reason to cross the border. "Where is it coming from Yarick?".
"Just across the border. I believe the Federation has a starbase nearby..." he frowned "The signal has been lost Captain".
"ETA at maximum warp?"
"30 minutes Captain."
"Make it so... let us hope there will still be a glorious fight to be found upon arrival!" she said slamming her fist into the arm of the command chair.
She slunk back into it. "Cloak on. Maximum Warp" she merely said as her second in command arrived on the ship.

As the ship arrived out of warp, the captain rose up. Her eyes widened. "Captain..."
"I can see it fool..." Before them a dozen Borg Cubes were floating.
Two Federation Ships were fighting the cubes but the first was taken out in a single blast. The other one was trying to get away but failing miserably at it by the looks of it. "Scanners indicate four wrecked Federation vessels. Starbase has been completely shredded. No lifesigns" he spoke.
"Incoming signal on all channels" Yarick said. Her second in command Urkar growled.
"On screen..." the Captain said. "No return feedback".
As she saw a wall of high technology an artifical yet chilling voice could be heard. "We are the Borg. Resistance is futile..."
The captain smiled lightly "Perhaps... today is a good day to die."

The campaign for the Empire's very survival begins... the road to the battle for Quo'nos, homeworld of the Klingon race!!!

« Last Edit: June 14, 2013, 03:29:11 PM by Darthvegeta800 »

Offline Darthvegeta800Topic starter

Re: Star Trek: Klingons defiant (m looking for f)
« Reply #1 on: June 14, 2013, 03:09:09 PM »

"SuvmeH 'ej charghmeH bogh tlhInganpu'."
"Klingons are born to fight and conquer."

Star Trek Klingon: Matters of honor and duty

Prologue: A banishment without dishonor

‘Honor is the most valuable commodity for a true warrior.’ it is in many ways a core tenet for the Klingon culture.
Regretfully for some it has become a diminished commodity. Some warriors dishonor themselves but others see their accomplishments and the light of their rising star diminished by cowardly House politics. This is the fate of the Captain of the K’Vort class Bird-of-Prey ‘Naginato’.
Her House stood strong and fierce at the side of Gowron during the Klingon Civil War pitting Gowron against House Duras, the treacherous but powerful Klingon Warriors that lowered themselves to secretly ally with the Romulans. The Duras had sold their honor for weapons and a chance to claim the leadership of the Empire. But they were crushed as were many of their allies. In the end Gowron had won and her House continued its rise to prominence. But now in the lull of the post Civil War era things had changed for her. Old rivalries resurfaced and the enemies of her House struck sneakily.

She had gained a captaincy for her brilliant victory at Yagh’ska. Her flawless use of the traditional bird-of-prey agility and speed had allowed her small B’rell-class Bird-of-Prey to somehow take out a mighty Vor’cha attack cruiser. And this decisive strike had helped maintain Gowron’s side in the game during the war, winning a crucial battle. It was her crowning achievement so far after a career of great achievements. The foes of her House had diminished the glory gained by putting a spin on things when her beloved Bird-of-Prey suffered sabotage and crashed after an ambush by Klingons of a rival House. Klingons that had not been affiliated to the Duras…
Her achievements brought her the Captaincy but the destruction of the ship she had led to victory was twisted into a tool to bring her low. She received command of a mightier vessel but her mission and her crew were another matter altogether…

Dregs. That is the thought that came to her mind. She had gone over their backgrounds. Subpar and mediocre warriors. Demoralized soldiers of the civil war. Warriors only ‘just’ good enough to remain in the Klingon Defence Force. Warriors barely passed into adulthood. Some had been ‘salvaged’ remnants of abolished Duras affiliated Houses that as houseless soldiers pressed on. She was to turn this group of misfits into a cohesive force and set forth to expand the Empire. She would move away from their traditional foes. Away from the Federation. Away from the Romulans. Away from the Cardassians. Instead she would head forth into unknown space as had happened before to look for new worlds to conquer. She was to find useful resources and worthy prey in the great beyond. In short, Chancellor Gowron was dog piling the dubious, the restless, the questioned onto her and sending her of with potential troublemakers into space. Her title brought honor to her House. Her father had been proud of her. But they all knew that their enemies wanted to keep her away from further opportunities to gather honor. If anything the eclectic and dubious nature of her crew ensured that she risked dishonoring herself due to their actions.
The ship would have at a first glance only two Klingons aboard that were worthy of note so far.
She was allowed to bring a single man from her old crew with her. A limitation that was frustrating and a concealed slight in itself. But there had been no doubt about her pick.
‘Grom’ik’ the old veteran had been with her from the start. He would be her tactical officer. Greying and aged he was beyond his prime. But he remained fierce and his wisdom was great. He was a warrior of honor! An old dog that had basked in glories she had yet to embrace. He had refused retirement and had not yet found a glorious death in battle. He slugged on, keeping up with the young Targs. One day he would join the Black Fleet and travel to Sto-Vo-Kor where all true warriors went. She wished it fervently for old ‘Grom’ik’ deserved it.

The second one…
His presence was clearly shown as a ‘gift’ to her. A promising officer in the KDF, a warrior without peer or so his mentors and commanding officers claimed. In fact his own record was remarkably similar to hers as he she studied it in her Captain’s quarters while the ‘Naginato’ circled Quo’nos, capital planet of the Klingon Empire. He had temporarily taken command of a Bird-Of-Prey known as the ‘Uraz’ during the civil war when half the bridge was killed by a surprise attack. In the ensueing fight he had taken out the three heavily armed pirate ships. He was apparently also an accomplished combatant in close combat. His greatest achievement looked like a lie… an exaggeration. No man could’ve stood against that many Gorn and come out alive. Not with his limited experience.

His affiliation however said more than his achievements or training. It said all she needed to know.
He was a member of House Borias.
A small but relentless House that had been a rival of hers for a long time. Early on in the Civil War they had favored the Duras before eventually siding with Gowron. Regardless, they had seemingly focused on outwards threats, trying to stay non committal as the Empire burned around them.
They were all ‘Petaq’!

It was at that time that ‘he’ beamed aboard the ‘Naginato’. As the Klingon known as Irkah behind her station looked up, her gaze wandered ever upward until finally it rested on the face of her new Commander. The female Bekk had fierce manes, dark skin and a graceful form. She carried a disruptor pistol and typical Klingon armor.
The warrior standing in the teleporter room was a giant of a rare size. Tall, broadshouldered and bulky. He was bald bar a topknot of inkblack hair. The crest on his forehead was not as pronounced as that of some Klingons. His skintone had a slightly pale skintone. His appearance slightly reminded the Klingon Warrior of the renowned Klingon General ‘Chang’ that had once fought Captain Kirk.
The warrior had a finely trimmed goatee. His armor was made of black reinforced leather and the typical straps of protective alloy that added further protection. The crest on his uniform clearly indicated his affiliation with House Borias. Besides a holstered disruptor pistol, he naturally carried a ‘Daqtah’. The ‘Daqtah’ was a dagger all Klingon Warriors carried with them and had immense symbolic value. The hilt ended in a spiked pommel and the weapon could deploy two small secondary blades. On the hilt one could see the crest of House Borias. Irkah was surprised to see he also carried two ‘Mek’leths’. These oddly shaped short curved swords had the shape of a deformed ‘h’ and the left leg formed the hilt. They were slightly larger than normal but this was not so bizarre given his size. Irkah had heard rumours about the fighting prowess of their new Commander. His size and exotic choice in weapons added fuel to the fire that was for sure. But as she looked him over she could not help but wonder what a mighty specimen of the male gender was doing among failures like her and her brethren. Her senses caught his powerful scent and her feral instincts caused her blood to boil. But she surpressed the desires, stepping away from her console and slamming a fist into her chest. “Qapla!” she said using the ritual greeting. “Welcome aboard the ‘Naginato’ Commander” she said. His piercing gaze fixed her as he descended from the teleportation platform. “Qapla.” He said with a dry tone. He looked around or a moment then began to walk.
Irkah’s gaze followed him. Odd… he was so very odd. There was no other word for it. His hands looked large and strong enough to break her skull but his voice had an aloofness that was not typical of Klingons.
Aloofness, indifference or annoyance? She was not certain. As she returned to her station she decided to focus on the task at hand. For a trio of future crewmen were ready to beam up. Soon all would be aboard and then their ship would be able to head off into deep space.
She was Houseless and had despaired. She did not believe she would find honor nor glory again.
In a way unbefitting of a Klingon Warrior she sighed. She was no exception. A disease had already spread through the ship. A disease known as demoralisation.

Indeed as Rack’nor walked forth with a firm pace, his booted feet tapping the metallic surface of the Bird-of-Prey’s corridors he passed Klingons that walked with a bearing unbefitting of warriors. The looks in their eyes indicated disinterest. ‘I have been sent to this trash can filled with honorless ‘toDSah’ as a punishment… though I fail to see what I did to deserve this’ he thought. The warriors saluted him but it was more by necessity than anything else. They feared reprisal from the giant. He took note of some who did have the bearing of warriors or who were marching diligently on a patrol. Finally he moved onto the bridge and an old warrior with graying hair stood up from the Commander’s chair. The Captain’s chair naturally was never used even by the ranking officer when the captain was absent. The man saluted him with a fierce ‘Qapla’!
Rack’nor smiled lightly at the old warrior “You must be Grom’ik, hero of the Battle of Denra and Slayer of a Thousand Ibonites!” he exclaimed for all to hear on the bridge.
The old warrior’s eyes flickered with vigor, approving of the words.
“Your words honor me Commander. But I fear it were only… a hundred Ibonites or so. I lost count after the first dozen” he said. Rack’nor burst out in laughter as did Grom’ik and several other officers.
He immediately took in the bearing and responses of those on the bridge. Some displayed the correct actions but he noticed some almost sulked away. They made him feel disgust.
He knew who was part of the crew. Some were warriors with potential placed her because the Empire no longer felt it could trust them or refused to give them a chance for glory. They were men and women who could still be mighty warriors. But many others… many others merely made his stomach church. Rack’nor stepped forward. The mighty giant crossed his arms.
“Status report” he said.
Grom’ik had taken his place behind the tactical station. Which was his priority station and the one that suited his skills best. He doubted any man on the ship would be better at handling the position. Some might challenge him and beat him in combat for the position but none would outshine his talent at actually performing there. Inevitably he would just return to the posting. He had little doubt that the crew realized this. Despite his age Grom’ik’s skills and talent would make his position quasi certain. The old warrior spoke with a voice that was rough and low though not as booming as Rack’nor’s own “Crew is almost complete commander. Supplies are being beamed aboard. Engines, shields and weapons are all performing at peak efficiency. Cloak was tested and is fully active. Engineering is doing a check-up of some backup systems that showed a minor energy spike but no noteable problem could come from it.” He said without hesitation.
Rack’nor nodded lightly.
The communication officer, a young man named Killim spoke “Commander. The Captain wishes to speak to you in the Captain’s quarters”. Rack’nor nodded.
“I shall see to her immediately” he hid his scowl well. For he had little desire to face that venomous vulture. Clearly she had gained her position through dumb luck and by preying on the weak. From what he knew of her House, she could only be yet another frustrating powerplayer seeking glory and honor for selfcentered purposes without love for the Empire. They claimed to be loyalists but had sided with Gowron only because several of their traditional rivals had stood alongside Duras.
Or at least that was how Rack’nor saw things.
The giant warrior walked away, speaking curtly as he did so “Lieutenant Grom’ik you have the bridge” he said before disappearing from sight.
He would ask access to her quarters and then undoubtedly be ‘evaluated’ by the ‘honorable captain’. He could only smirk dismissively as he considered his own sarcasm.
« Last Edit: June 14, 2013, 03:29:59 PM by Darthvegeta800 »