Prologue
Roughly 300 Years from the present stardate.
Qronos
"We are leaving, MaH'drang. The empire cannot be a home for us anymore. We want an emperor."
MaH'drang shook his head. "You're a fool, Krong. You and your people. It is only through the elimination of the emperor that the houses will gain true power in the empire. With a new high council will come greater glory for us all."
Krong paced over to a table near the center of his office and sloshed some warnog into a goblet. "No. With the council will come civil war. The house leaders will spend their time fighting over the position of council leader. There is no glory in politics.
"No, I have discussed it with the members of my house and we have decided to leave the homeworld and find a place to forge our own empire." The burly Klingon shook his matted mane of hair and gulped back the warnog. " 'Drang, we have been allies for a long time. I urge you to join us in our quest for a new life."
MaH'drang snorted derisively. "I would not lend myself to such a fools errand. I stand a good chance of being the council leader and I am not going to pass that up. You do realize that you, too, have a chance in the Jah'Jook. You could be our leader. You are a respected member of the empire."
"I don't want to be the leader of this council. Councils are for the weak. Klingons in general are becoming weak. Don't you see yourself becoming decadent? Don't you yearn for the old ways?"
"No. I want to live to see my sons grow up. I don't want to die in a war that brings no glory to the empire. I have no desire to be subject to some half-mad emperor's whim. "
Krong narrowed his eyes. "You talk of glory and yet you are too afraid to die like a man! You are not worthy to go to Stovokhor!" Krong spat on the floor. "Get out you worthless coward. You ask why I want to leave the empire? Well, you just demonstrated my reason! This ruling committee will weaken us. Mark my words, The empire will fall, and I'm not going to stay and be dishonored with the rest of you. I will go and forge my own empire. One for HONORABLE klingons."
"I urge you, Krong, don't destroy your people, your qorDu'." MaH'drang replied.
"We are leaving. Three ships with the new pIvghor drive should put us beyond the territory of the empire. I will find my family a new planet to colonize. Now, I have made my decision and by it I will stand. Now get out, and good luck with your foolish council." Krong turned his back on his old ally and waited until the door slammed with MaH'drang's departure.
He inhaled deeply and stalked over to his starcharts; maps of the empire, and its territory. He would find a safe haven for his people. A place for honor. Krong took another gulp of his warnog, then wiped a drip of it off his charts with the back of his hand. He was getting to old for this. Soon he would be off to Stovokhor and his son would be the head of the family. Was Bekl'er ready? Would Bekl'er be strong enough to forge a new Klingon nation once Krong was dead?
Krong shook his head. Of course Bekl'er could do it. Krong reached across his desk and grabbed his communicator. "Bekl'er! Come to my quarters, NOW!"
There was a barked affirmative and Krong sat down to wait for his son's arrival. Within a few minutes the door opened and Bekl'er entered.
"Sir?" Bekl'er asked crisply.
"Took you long enough." Krong growled. "Sit down." He waited until his son sat and then continued. "Is all in readiness for our departure tomorrow?"
"Yes, sir. All five hundred of us are quartered in the fleet. There were about two hundred who refused to join us, and they have joined other houses. We can leave tomorrow. It will be glorious, Father." Bekl'er's eyes gleamed in excitement.
Krong grunted. "Then get yourself off to the ship. I will join you shortly. We leave at dawn."
"Of course, father." Bekl'er turned to leave.
"And Bekl'er, I want you to run a systems check on the Mara, the Qel, and the QoreQ. I don't trust the pIvghor drive. It is too new, too untested."
"Father, the pIvghor drive is what helped us win the war against the Gorn! It is infallible." Bekl'er exclaimed.
"Humor an old man, Bekl'er, and run that systems check. Do as you are instructed." Krong replied. Bekl'er nodded sharply and left.
The next day the Mara, the Qel, and the QoreQ left the empire forever. In cramped vessels the colonists traveled for over four years. A hundred died of starvation before they landed on a solitary planet orbiting a young star. The four hundred who lived to colonize the planet, which they named SoS, or Mother, created a klingon society unlike any other. This society was not built on conquest, but on creation, and agriculture, and as such, what was considered honorable changed. The klingons of SoS, forced to learn such ideals as co-operation and tolerance existed in peace with each other, and through work and dedication, the small, forgotten colony thrived.
Twelve Years ago,
Qronos, The Plaza of the Damned
The old woman looked at the shining silver box with sadness. She knew very well what was inside, for she had been told to expect this package. Her hand skittered across surface and entered the code that would open the box. With a smooth hiss the casket opened. Inside laid the body of a klingon in full battle armor.
The ancient klingon crone and heaved a sigh. She did not want to believe that her master was dead. "But he is with Kahless now." She said fatalisticaly. "I never thought I would see the child I nursed, a corpse. Before he left, he said to me, 'Fadang, just a quick fight, and I will be home after the winter season.'" She touched his cheek. "But you came back before Spring, my master, winter hasn't ended." A gleam of jewels caught her eye and she pushed aside the body. Underneath the corpse lay a weapon. She gasped. She knew the story about this sword. If it ever fell into darkness, the klingon house it belonged to would also fall into darkness. Fadang gazed at the sparkling sword, and murmered, "And will winter ever end?"
She pursed her lips. This was a sign. The woman gently lay the body back on top of the sword. Veri'na, her mistress, it seemed had sent Fadang a message. The body was to buried in the secret place. The house was doomed. Fadang wondered if the children were still alive. She knew that the children were the only hope for the great house. When they died, the house died with them.
She turned around and reached for hide pillow which lay on the ground beside her. With an efficient rip, she tore the object apart. Eleven isolinear chips spilled from the stuffing to pile on top of the body, a silicone heap. Satisfied, the hag touched the forehead of the corpse. "Sleep, my child. The gauntlet passes to the next generation. Our house will return from the darkness that has descended upon it."
She stabbed a button with a gnarled finger and the lid of the coffin shut. Fadang walked over to the tree that was directly in front of her. The hole she had her sons dig was big enough, about two meters deep. "I give him to you, Fek'lhr." She said aloud and picked up a remote control. She operated the control with difficulty, her twisted, arthritic, claws fumbling over the buttons. After a moment, the antigrav unit that the casket lay on rose into the air. It moved over the pit and then slowly lowered. Fadang bent down and picked up a shovel and covered the box with the earth that was alongside.
Terribly tired, her old body screaming, but satisfied with her work, she rose and hobbled out of the twisted grove of trees. As she existed the plaza, she heard the harsh staccato of boots on the cobble stones.
"Bitch of the house of Keth'ex! Die!" Harsh voices yelled.
She did not try to run, for her old legs could not take the strain. She had nothing left in her. She stopped when she saw the first phasor beam flash by. Fadang turned and looked at the men who would have her dead. She stared defiantly at them and spat on the road. Her mind remembering a better time, she didn't even feel the phasor bolt that ripped open her chest. With a gurgling sigh she fell, and was dead before she hit the ground.
The young klingon soldiers walked up and one gave the warm body a sharp kick. "I wonder what she was doing in the plaza?" He asked.
"I don't know and I don't care. We were just told to kill her. We have done that. Lersash will be pleased." His companion said. They turned and walked away. The old woman's blood rolled across the street, and into the gutter.
