Posted July 16, 2018, 1:18 p.m. by Civilian Q'ragh, Son of the House of Duroc (Klingon Warrior) (Dave Eads)
Posted by Civilian Urg’tohn, Son of the House of Duroc (Klingon Warrior) in Spaceport - Arrival of the Sons of the House of Duroc
Posted by Civilian Urg’tohn, Son of the House of Duroc (Klingon Warrior) in Spaceport - Arrival of the Sons of the House of Duroc
Posted by Lieutenant Dashel Jamison (Son of Morak) (Chief Intelligence Officer) in Spaceport - Arrival of the Sons of the House of Duroc
Posted by… suppressed (20) by the Post Ghost! 👻
The comms on Oed V came to life.=/\= Human colony. This is K’vorth, second Son of the brothers of House Duroc. We are approaching your humble city and demand immediate clearance to dock.
What? Wait a minute.Urg! What do you mean the warp core is stuck on half impulse? Fix it! Then use a bigger hammer! Do I have to think of everything?
Alright I’m back. We demand immediate repairs and supplies to continue the holy quest for the D’k tahg of Lord Marshall Pr’Kenth, to restore the honor and name of the god Kvaar’ton.
What now Runt? What?! Can’t you see I’m on the communicator? Holes in what shielding? Then fix it! Press that flashing button or something! Kvaar’ton has provided for us, you think he will let us explode again?!
Right, I’m here. My Brothers are impatient, Kvaar’ton is a generous but demanding God worthy of our obedience. And yours. We will be docking in one Human hour. K’Vorth out. =/\=
As the large eye-patched and bald Klingon walked away, the comm system stayed active for a few more moments. He could be heard yelling out “Urg! You better fix that! We’re docking, and you know the brakes don’t work!” Before the comm line cut out, a ceiling panel could be seen falling down right where the big Klingon had been standing moments before.
Sensors showed a decades old Orion frigate, in need of much repair, coming directly to the colony at a semi-high rate of speed. After about an hour, and many arguments between several aggressive voices on the ship and Traffic Control, the ship docked and was secured. The Dock-master waited for many minutes for the crew to open the hatch so he could conduct the intake documentation.
When the ship finally began to open up, voices yelling loudly at each other in the Klingon native tongue were heard just before the hatch opened and out spilled a chaotic maelstrom of legs, fists, teeth, and flecks of pink blood. Dashing to the melee, the Dock-master grabbed one of the figures by the shoulder to break up the argument.
This is how the fight started.
Urg’tohn, Son of House Duroc
Although not quite as expected. At the dockmasters touch the fight seemed to almost immediately halt as three very large and very powerful looking Klingons, in the middle of cursing and fighting, a wild melee of fists and elbows, body checks and knees, suddenly stopped fighting, paused mid strike or bite as K’vorth, the bald headed and eye patched one, slowly looked around at his shoulder at the hand firmly placed on it.
“Break it up” came the voice of the human, used to dealing with this type of low life on an almost daily basis at the docks. “This is a respectable place, there will be no fighting here.” As if to back up his words, another half dozen or so men gathered close behind to let the Klingons know they had best be well behaved, they were outnumbered.
The single eye of the bald Klingon stared at the dockmaster a moment, then at the hand, then moved two the other two brothers and rested on each of them for a moment, the eyebrow above that single eye raised in pure innocence. Slowly, the Klingons head turned and that eye again looked at the hand and then focused on the dockmaster, all three Klingons still seemingly frozen mid punch.
“You dare to touch a Son of Duroc!?” The Klingon said, loudly, and in a tone that indicated he had just been heavily insulted. “Begone human Heathen. You are not worthy of his glory!” And in one sudden, swift and violent move the bald Klingons head snapped forward, impacting the bridge of the Dockmasters nose and resulting in a large cracking sound as the Dockmaster stumbled backwards a step, raising his hands to his shattered nose before collapsing in a heap.
Shrugging off the grasp of his Brothers, K’vorth turned and faced the group of workers, a wild grin on his lips, teeth bared, and fists clenching and relaxing in anticipation of the fun to be had. The previous fight with his siblings all but forgotten, K’vorth slowly cracked his neck nd raised his eyes skyward to give thanks to Kvaar’ton. “We have arrived, Brothers” he said in a tone now that was almost melodic with a worshipping tone “Kvaar’ton blesses us with a test of honor and courage to his gaze.”
K’vorth, Son of the House of Duroc
At the bottom of the pile of Klingon laid the one called Urg’tohn. As his brother ‘relocated’ the offending Dock-master, the foundation of the pile shrugged off the remaining brother and stood up… and up… and up. Towering almost half a foot taller than K’vorth, Urg’tohn stepped to stand next to his brother, placing a hand on the same shoulder that had led the Dock-master to his current state. “Praise be Kvaar’ton, my Brother!” he said as a bit of blood from a split lip splattered the floor. He looked at the group of workers and star ship crews who had assembled and, spying a large Orion in the middle of the group, extended a large and massively muscled arm, pointed and said “You! You will be the first to earn the blessings of pain and blood, sacred rite of Kvaar’ton! Know that I will sing of your valiant but futile fight against Urg’tohn of House Duroc in the halls of that nobel House!”
Urg’tohn, Third Son of House Duroc
For his part Kvaar’ton sat his not inconsiderate, yet whole unseen bulk upon the stack of they holy rock sheets of the House of Durok. The sheets were not even disturbed by his holy presence. The brothers three could feel he was among them as the lights of the ship flickered, mostly due to shoddy workmanship but a little from the psychic emannations of the Deity they served. The ramp groaned under the hydraulics or perhaps Kvaar’ton’s movement. It was his voice that they all 3 would have heard, intoning, in a loud bellow, of the deepest bass sound. Only they three and perhaps any near that were of the mind that could hear that which was unsaid by the mind of another.
“IT HAS BEGUN!”
Kvaar’Ton the Unshiftable
The shortest of the three warriors let out a loud and deep laugh, it’s rumbling echo bouncing back off the walls of the corridor. Perhaps because he was lighter and faster, he moved quicker than his brothers and was the first to actually strike one of the assembled non-klingons.
Bellowing at the top of his lungs, Q’ragh sang in his native tongue as he reached top speed and drop kicked a very surprised looking Vulcan, his feet impacting the man’s chest with a thud nearly as loud as he and his victim hitting the floor…
“Mi’ qul qar’a’
‘ej Do’ QI’ la’
QI’ DO’ Sum, qarI’ Do’ QI’la’
Sutem pa’ rI’ tlho’
mara’ ‘e’ qor!”-Q’ragh, Son of House Duroc
Urg’tohn charged immediately after his smaller brother, aiming directly for the big Orion. To his credit, the Orion didn’t shy away. He set his feet and braced for the incoming Klingon. Not to his credit, however, he did not expect the hulking figure to hit the deck and slide at the last minute. Using the momentum of his rush, Urg slid across the deck and took out the figure’s legs, knocking him flat on his face. Immediately gaining his footing, he turned. Leaping into the air, Urg had a look of pure joy (as much as a Klingon can be described as such) and landed with both knees on the Orion’s back, who responded with a loud cry as the breathe was forced from his chest.
Urg’tohn, Son of House Duroc
OOC: For keeping timelines right for Conrad, I believe this would take place before his Trip to Tyrellia. :)
IC: It was at that point that Michael Conrad, esteemed captain of the Black Sparrow, had made his presence known to the trio of Klingons. Conrad was well known in many civilian circles. It wouldn’t have surprised him if these Klingons had heard of him and his ship. While Conrad was not the type to do anything for anyone, he was the type to intervene in other people’s business if he had felt like it, whether it was for morals or just for fun.
Conrad had a few tricks up his sleeve. Had to with klingons anyway. Never trust a ferengi with a bargain, and never trust a klingon in a fight. Or at least that’s how he viewed things anyway. It wasn’t always true, but it helped keep his wits. All he had to do was lure them back to his ship.
He was close enough to his ship for a quick sprint back inside. Push come to shove, a quick beam out would work too. The Black Sparrow’s engines were purring like a kitten, so all was ready.
“Hey!” he shouted to the lot of them, his arms wide open. “You want a fair fight? Come on then.”
-Michael Conrad, Black Sparrow CO
OOC: And lets say that Dash was here before this as well … and thus before the new Head of Construction and Operations :P
IC: From his vantage point, the recently arrived CIO saw the arrival of the Klingon ‘ship’. And the altercation between the klingons and the local Starfleet officers and that the Starfleet officers were doing … badly … and then the man, from the ship name of ‘Black Sparrow’, and the recklessness of the man, Dash considered he could only be one person - Michael Conrad. Yes, Michael’s ‘fame’ had spread to Starfleet Intelligence, or at least some operatives in the department. The fool would get himself killed and then probably blame Starfleet or the Federation. Something was wrong in that chain of thought, but Dashel’s brain had already dashed on from it to something else, and he would work on what was wrong with it later.
He put in a call to Starfleet Security and then to the Oed V Police service about the incident for more assistance and then, also put in a call to the hospital … it seemed the locals would need medical attention. Drawing his bat’leth, Dash thought through his extensive Klingon vocab learned while he grew up on Quo’nos as an adopted son of a Klingon ambassador as he moved towards the fracas.
He spoke loudly and quickly in Klingon and motioned with his bat’leth as he did so. The translated English version went something like “your mothers were Tribble Lovers and your fathers had smooth foreheads! You three lack honour and bring dishonour to your house!” He hoped that would at least quieten them down and give the Starfleet and Customs personnel a chance to regroup.
Then Dashel slipped into English, “I am Dashel Jamison, Son of Morak. I am also the CIO.”
-CIO
OOC: Just an FYI, Kvaar’ton cannot be seen. He is a god. You heard me.
OOC: Oh I understand now. 3 Klingon louts and their imaginary friend :P Thanks for the clarification.IC: As the big Orion prayer-mat slipped into a grateful state of unconsciousness, Urg looked from the man near the ship to the one who tried to insult them in actually really good tlhIngan Hol. Standing up to his almost seven feet in height, he threw his head back and laughed. “The CIO? Wow! My brothers!!! We have the CIO here!” and he turned to the smaller of the brothers. “Runt! What is a CIO and why should I care who his father is?!” and he laughed again. He then turned and looked at the man near the ship. “And you… Kvaar’ton teaches us that people asking for ‘fair fights’ are the first ones to cheat. Go try your silly tricks on a Ferengi. They are probably more your style, for the Sons of House Duroc fight with honor!”
Urg’tohn, Son of House Duroc
He glanced at his taller brother, a grin breaking across his face. “I do not know!” The smaller Klingon squared himself for another round and began edging toward the CIO, his large hands open and empty, ready to grapple.
“CIO means Chief Intelligence Officer … which means I drink … and I know stuff,” Dash replied with a hearty laugh of his own, one his adopted brother, Koram would have been proud to hear, “Morak is my adopted Klingon father who taught me the way of the warrior. When I was without family and honour, he adopted me and gave me both. I am a passing student in the bat’leth and enjoy both bloodwine and gagh. When was the last time the Sons of House Duroc had fresh, unreplicated gagh? I have arranged a regular shipment of live gagh from the empire, and I would be honoured to share it with Klingon Warriors of a noble house. But as none of them are around, the three of you will do as a substitute. I will need something from you as well, however …”
Dash put on the bravodo he learnt from dealing with Koram and the other Klingon youths when he was the only human teen amongst boisterous and unruly Klingon adolescents, once he learnt to mask his fear with the bravado, Dash found the beatings were less frequent. He only hoped that would be how this would play out as well. The sirens of medical and police vehicles sounded, and the first of them reached Dash. He held up a hand indicating for them to pause.
“You three can show me that you do have honour, however, let these doctors tend to them,” Dashel said, and then, pointing at the large Orion’s head, “I’m not sure THAT colour is natural … even for an Orion.”
-CIO
A group of five Constables ran to join the group but before even noting the strange man they were given a stand down order through the Comm. A moment later a large man in a dark blue suit, a cane in his left hand passed the group and joined the Intelligence officer. He was older than the Klingon raised human but didn’t look much over Fifty. He smiled at the Group of Klingons “I don’t think these gentlemen have much interest in Gahk” He gently placed his right hand on the younger man’s shoulder and looked over to Captain Conrad, giving him a friendly wink “No what these hearty warriors want are pilgrims for their journey” He seemed to know what was spoken before even arriving, The Police Chief was truly well informed “I am charged with protecting this colony and its citizens. I am Joseph of Earth, the negh Wamwl’ and you have a choice, join me and my friend there for food and ale, or have your quest end here” The title he gave himself would have at least some rumblings in the back of their minds.
Commissioner Karlson
“We have plenty of interest in G’agh!” Q’ragh assured the Commissioner, as he straightened and cast a sidelong glance at both of his brothers. Then he eye’d the man suspiciously. “You know of our journey? our holy quest?!” He demanded, muscles still taught and ready to spring. Then, Q’ragh looked at Dash again. On one hand, he almost liked the little CIO, fake Klingon though he was… On the other, he still wanted to beat the man within an inch of his life for daring to wield a Bat’leth against the House Duroc. “Speak human! Or kneel and pledge yourself to Kvaar’ton the Builder!”
-Q’ragh, Son of House Duroc
Joseph had an amused expression as he stared at the Klingon “The only way you’ll learn what I know is if you stand down and stop attacking these citizens” He relaxed in this situation as if three large and violent Klingons neither alarmed nor worried him “And I have no more interest in pledging my self to the builder any more than you have in swearing fealty to Óðinn One-Eyed” He spoke calmly but with a firmness in his voice, he was clearly used to situations such as this “So ask yourselves, Sons of the House of Duroc, do you truly wish for your quest to end here, surrounded by the Federation?” He looked at the group, from oldest to youngest “Or can you act as honoured agents of Kvaar’ton and stand down?”
Commissioner Karlson
There was a slight rumble from inside the ship that might have been laughter or the main stabilizer overheating and cooling. There was also a slightly stale odor of sweat and targ. Perhaps K’Vaarton cautioned them to listen.
K’Vaarton
Urg’tohn looked at the ship as he heard and felt the rumble, and lowered his head briefly. Looking up, he said “Kvaar’ton has spoken, my brothers.” and he casually lifted the Orion off the deck by the waist of his pants, leaving him dangling face down from the end of his arm. “Come, human-who-speaks-of-our-quest. Call your litter bearers to take the most honorable…” and he looked down at the unconscious figure he held in his hand and, realizing he had no idea what the man’s name was, carried forth in true House Duroc fashion, “… um… the most honorable Fred of the Docking Bay and provide him the necessary attention required to bring such a valiant warrior back to the field of battle. Or to resume his duties. Either way.”
Urg’Tohn, Son of House Duroc
The Smallest Klingon nodded solemnly. “The builder has indeed spoken.” He intoned, looking suspiciously at the ranking security officer. He was trying to decide if the man was actually naming his own deity, or merely making fun of his brother K’vorth, who had only one eye. “We yeild.” He barked, “in the interest of furthering our quest. However, let it be remembered that this is what happens to those who dare to challenge the House of Duroc.” With one hand, he lifted the vulcan officer from the floor, and then politely dusted off the man’s tunic, then nodded and let him go. “Lead the way, Follower of Odin.”
-Q’ragh, Son of House DurocJoseph smiled as he waved his hands and medical teams arrived from behind him to attend to the injured Port workers. He placed a finger on his wrist comm unit =^=Assault teams stand down=^= He said calmly to his teams that had set up to take the Klingons down. The team that had set up their rappelling gear right above the group sighed and complained to their leader. Joseph quickly turned off the Channel before turning around to the young Intelligence Officer “You’re Welcome to join us” He indicated to the long Hover-Limo that just arrived before turning back around “This way Sons of Duroc, in here” He moved to the long car. standing outside was a short man with wide shoulders, a drivers cap on his head. He opened the car for the Police Commissioner. Joseph stepped inside the vehicle and moved to the far end and sat down.
Commissioner Karlson
Urg looked at the vehicle skeptically and then walked forward and stood by the open doors. “In you go, brothers. We have… apparently… arrived. Kvaar’Ton be praised.”
Urg’tohn, Son of House Duroc
Dash was in awe of the way the Commissioner handled that, Dash’s way would have probably ended in pain and suffering and needless bleeding … for Dash. He had fallen silent, allowing the older man to take control of proceedings. Now, Dash approached the car and paused … his time on Qo’noS reminded him of the importance placed on protocol by the Klingons and he most definitely didn’t want them to think he was challenging them to a duel to the death … even the smallest of the Klingons, the one referred to as runt, and a title that Dashel himself received, would beat him without raising a sweat, it seemed. So, Dashel waited for the Klingons to enter before him. Besides, it meant they wouldn’t be at his back and he could make a quick escape if the car ride turned nasty.
-Dashel Jamison, CIO
The tallest of the three Klingons glared at Dash and bared his teeth in what at first may have been taken as an attempt to eat him… but soon worked it’s way into a kind of most unsettling smile. “In you go, Son of Morak. You are blessed to be with us! And more blessed to be the one to test the interior for traps! Go, and may your death rattle be loud and bloody!” and he slammed a large hand onto the CIO’s shoulder and pushed him towards the open car door in what would be considered a friendly fashion if one: they had currently finished some kind of combat sport and two: had he not hit the human with such force.
Urg’tohn, Son of the House of Duroc
OOC: Correcting typos.
The “Runt” still stood six foot two inches, in fact, and was the eldest of the brothers. He paused for a moment while Urg played with Dash, still unsure if they were doing the right thing… but it had appeared that Kvaa’rton had spoken to all of them. This was the place, and here they would find clues as to the next steps they must take to restore House Duroc! Once the others were inside the vehicle, he got in himself and fixed his eyes on the Comissioner. “Where do you take us?” He asked.
-Q’ragh, Son of House Duroc
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