House of Pragg

Setlick City Outskirts

Cetlus Minor


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Mor did his best to keep quiet. Beside him, Eyos was crouched behind a sturdy marble table, and holding his disruptor tightly, but confidently. Her formal training was missing, but her instincts were Klingon, and Mor was confident she would know what to do.

Across the living room, Salimov had undone his helmet and was sipping a flask of Earth Vodka to calm his nerves. Mor understood his state of emotion, but Salimov's lack of professionalism angered the old Klingon none the less.

"Can you stop drinking and concentrate, for one single minute?!" Mor harshly whispered.

"Fuck you, Boss Mor," Salimov whispered back, "You not let me get hooker, so I need fucking drink."

Eyos tapped Mor on his shoulder, "Father, this man Salimov. He reminds me of… of some of the men who hurt me. Can we shoot him as well?"

Mor fought the urge to burst out laughing and calmly replied, "As pleasing as that thought is to me, my child, my own General has forbidden me to greatly harm Salimov. Perhaps, when this fight is over however- "

Salimov cut him off, raising his wrist-comm in urgency, "Boss Mor! Klingons start landing. Three hundred troopers outside in yard. You have orders?"

Mor raised his own device and confirmed Salimov's readings.

Volkol, as expected, lacked the courage to lead his men from the front. Instead, a Klingon Colonel he didn't recognize stepped forward and pulled up a small PADD, linking into open subspace comm's channels.

Mor decided to let him speak, if only for amusement.

"My name is Colonel Joskar, son of Atred, Commander of the Eighth Kronos Shock Legion," Joskar's voice said on the broadcast, "Brigadier Mor, son of Klotz, Commander of 3 Assault Brigade and Federation Marine. By authority of Volkol, son of Hegan, Representative of the Klingon High Council, you are ordered to stand down and surrender yourself to my authority, for crimes of treason, cowardice, and terrorism against the Klingon Empire."

"Lay down your weapons and come out with your hands clearly raised. Your men will not be harmed and will be allowed to leave this planet. You have my word of honour as a Klingon Warrior."

This time, Mor allowed himself to laugh.

What honour was there in someone who followed Volkol?

But there was one truth that couldn't be ignored.

Mor, Eyos, Salimov, and the twelve other Black Star Operators were heavily outnumbered on the ground, and their single Raptor was no match for a Klingon Battleship.

Black Star reinforcements were still an hour away.

Mor needed to buy time to make the battle even, so he decided to ignore his instincts and instead invoke the feelings of his Fathers in his next words, spoken along the same frequency, "Colonel Joskar, you are a coward and a liar, who serves another coward and liar. But if your words are true, then hear me now. I claim the right of vengeance, as is my right as a Klingon Warrior."

"If Volkol accuses me of these crimes, let him face me in glorious battle and allow Khaless The Unforgettable to be our judge. If your lying, cowardly leader refuses to meet my challenge, then I vow to send all of you to GretHoR and Hell in the next ten minutes."

Mor rose, put his rifle around his shoulder, and picked up a heavy cavalry sabre from Pragg's collection of antiques. It wasn't quite as well made as a bat'leth, but it would be suitable for his purposes.

As he walked to the door, Eyos' voice again stopped him.

"Father, no! Please, don't do this! We can fight!" She cried to him.

Mor sighed, "You can, but it would not be a good fight, and I've sacrificed too much to let it end like this. Our reinforcements will be here soon, so I will buy you the time you need to make the fight fair."

He put his hand on the door, but stopped and offered her one final thought, "Besides, I've met my daughter again. Today is as good a day to die as any."

Mor stepped out to the yard, and looked at the three hundred Klingon soldiers in front of him.

For Volkol to assemble such a force, given the state of the KDF, he must have plundered the wealth of many Great Houses besides his own.

The coward had obviously held his men back from Operation Soul's Edge, putting the burden of the fighting on true warriors.

"Bring me Volkol, or I'll kill every last one of you!" Mor shouted, raising the cavalry sabre high above his head.

More than a few Klingons took a step backwards. Old as he may have been, Mor was still stronger than many other Klingons, and his reputation still held true across the Empire.

As the men parted in two lines, Volkol at last appeared and began walking towards Mor, carrying a ridiculous looking double ended bat'leth that looked like something once wielded by T'Kuvma and his mindless servants.

"Mor!" Volkol shouted, swinging the ridiculous blade in an equally ridiculous motion between two hands, "I've waited a long time for this. Throw that child's toy down and die like the dog you are!"

Mor looked at the sabre, and spotted an inscription on the blade, Property of Gen. Thomas Jonathan "Stonewall" Jackson. Chancellorsville, Virginia. 1863

This blade was almost six hundred years old, and had belonged to a Warrior that Alesha Dixon, Mark's girlfriend, and a Starship Captain, had sung constant praises of in Mor's presence.

"Stonewall" had earned his fame in blood, by bleeding the human Union Army dry on a strong defense of rifles and a small stone retaining wall.

From what Mor had learned, Stonewall had the misfortune of being felled by his own men in the confusion of battle, but his deeds were worthy of any Klingon.

Mor pointed the blade of Stonewall Jackson at Volkol, and calmly replied, "I have another set of words from a force far mightier than yours, Volkol. If you want my sword, Molon Labe. Come and take it."

Volkol charged and brought down his double ended bat'leth in a move that would have cut any other man in half.

But Mor raised the sabre, and expertly blocked Volkol's move.

The six-hundred-year-old sabre easily deflected the much more modern bat'leth, and Mor used his strength to throw Volkol back like a child might throw a ball across a field.

Mor walked towards the sprawled Volkol and planned his attack. Many Klingons spent decades practicing intricate, dance-like maneuvers for single combat, moves that looked good, but did little when it came to actually killing one's enemy.

Mor had even less time for wasting energy or movement.

He instead brought the heavy blade down and almost cut Volkol in half, with Volkol just barely rolling out of the way and back to his feet. Volkol instead tried a thrust, aiming for Mor's stomach.

Mor deftly swung the sabre in a counter clockwise circle and smashed Volkol's blade away, ending the motion with the sabre pointing to the sky.

Mor took a single step forward and viciously thrusted for Volkol's neck. Volkol was able to get his bat'leth up in time for his own parry, but again Mor's strength forced him backwards and off his feet.

Mor swung to his right, Volkol just managing to dodge the slice.

As he rolled under Mor's sabre, he dared to taunt, "You're too slow, Old Man!"

Mor didn't return the taunt.

He instead swiftly walked forward and kicked Volkol in the side so viciously that two of his ribs cracked, before again trying to land a slicing blow that the younger Klingon barely dodged again.

"Talk, or fight. Don't do both at the same time," Mor growled, as he continued to close the distance. There was no wasted effort in his movements.

Every step, every swing, and every charge had a purpose. Each brought him one step closer to finally killing his enemy.

Mor swung down with a killing blow, but Volkol was able to just roll away, the sabre cutting away a piece of his ornate cape.

As he rose to his feet, Volkol charged at Mor, knocking the older Klingon down with a shoulder tackle.

Mor's age betrayed him, and his knees gave out as he fell on his back.

Volkol seized the chance. He twirled his double ended blade in the air, and brought the lower blade down, straight through Mor's stomach.

The pain shot through his body like lightening and brought his senses back into focus.

Mor reached up with his free left hand and seized Volkol by the throat, feeling his enemy's strength fade from his body as Mor hoped to kill Volkol before he in turn left for Sto'VoKor.

Mor's hopes were dashed. The cowardly Volkol instead reached for his disruptor.

Drawing fast, he shot three bursts into Mor's stomach wound, a fatal impact that stole what little strength Mor had left.

He collapsed onto the grassy yard and felt his spirit preparing to leave his body. The world around him faded in white light, and Mor saw his father Klotz waiting for him outside of the golden halls of Khaless, standing with all his fathers before him and a barrel of Warnog behind him.

It was a pleasant place, but Eyos would now be alone.

And a single tear fell from Mor's eye as he died, knowing that after the years and battles, he was a failure all along.


Eyos felt burning, white hot rage course through her veins.

She rose from cover, ran over to the defense console in the living room, and shattered the glass covering with her fist as she slammed the arming switch.

Moments later, three MKV Pulse Phaser Cannons appeared from the roof of Pragg's mansion.

The Canons were surplus from a planned refit of USS Illustrious, and were powerful enough to destroy Klingon Birds of Prey.

The Klingon infantry had no chance.

The canons rapidly shot out pulses into the mass of warriors, and bodies were flung into the air with huge chunks of soil and grass.

The canons auto locked onto their targets, and the followed the Klingons who tried to run and seek whatever cover they could.

Colonel Joskar – rethinking the choice he had made in taking Volkol's money and offer of a Battlecruiser's command – ducked behind a hovercar, just seconds before a phaser bolt disintegrated the twenty men standing behind him.

Joskar raised his disruptor rifle and fired four shots into the nearest cannon, which were deflected harmlessly away by protective forcefields.

Behind the Colonel, Volkol shouted to his men, "Fight you cowards! This is—"

Joskar noticed a canon locking on to the oblivious Volkol and made yet another foolish choice.

He ran and quickly tackled Volkol to the ground, saving his life just seconds before the canon obliterated another twenty men.

"Stay down, idiot!" Joskar shouted, roughly shoving the High Councilman behind the hovercar serving as cover.

The Canons continued their relentless assault, blowing apart even more Klingon infantry every second.

"Do something!" Volkol cried out, half in anger and half in terror. Joskar ignored the screaming and focused on the task at hand.

He could call Kor and rain fire down from high orbit, but at this distance a torpedo or a disruptor blast would be almost as dangerous to his own men.

The Canons cut down another group of brave and foolish warriors to the Colonel's left, and that was enough.

Joskar opened his comm device and locked targets onto the mansion, and then threw himself over top of Volkol to protect both men from the incoming fury.


"Shit! Fucking Klingons shoot torpedo! Get fucking down!" Salimov cried.

Eyos threw herself underneath a heavy wooden table and ducked her head down. But it was barely enough.

The world around her went dark as the Klingon Plasma Torpedo slammed into the mansion.

The air rushed out of her lungs, and Eyos was thrown sideways into the leather couch. She rose to her feet, unhurt, but the men that Father had brought with him were not.

Four were dead – vaporised instantly by the torpedo – and the rest were heavily wounded.

The mansion was on fire, and the world was slowly darkening around Eyos as the flames filled the room around her.

She walked towards Salimov, and found him leaning against the wall, with his left arm grotesquely torn out of place and hanging lose.

"Blyat!" He screamed as he saw Eyos approaching, "Run Boss Eyos! Get out of here while you can!"

Eyos instead lifted his good arm over her shoulders, and began to half carry, half drag Salimov to the door.

"Don't die yet, Human. My Father said we must keep you alive."

"What fuck you mean?! Fucking arm is trash, Little Klingon Girl. I die anyway!"

Salimov began trying to thrash out of Eyos' grip, but with strength he did not expect, she seized him tightly and held him still.

"Calm down! Your reinforcements will arrive soon, won't they? We can both survive this!" She screamed at him.

Salimov steadied himself, reached for his waist, and took a long swig of Vodka.

After draining his canteen, he asked while pointing at Mor's disruptor, "You know how to shoot?"

She didn't, but she'd seen enough men shoot over the years that she could figure it out.

Eyos raised the weapon with both hands and adopted a stance, leaning against the wall to use what was left of the grand door as cover.

Salimov was impressed, and smiled back, "Okay, good shit. We keep you safe."