Thank you, Tracy, for me know you appreciated it! I know it took a long time for me to update the darn thing, but I hope you'll come back for another read.
The story is going a bit slowly to my liking, but I hope I can speed things up now that everything has been set in motion. In the third chapter, K'Raqt will be on his way again. yay :)
____________________________________
- "Come nearer, young man." Traq'Tor gestured the prisoner to come a little closer. Surprisingly enough, it was almost a sympathetic gesture. K'Raqt studied the president's face carefully, and found it had very little in common with the other faces around the table. There was a twinkle in his eyes. Had he not known better, K'Raqt would've called it ... amusement?
- "Come nearer, and give these gentlemen your account of the events." Traq'Tor nodded invitingly. He also showed his teeth, but with a Klingon, showing your teeth could be a smile as easily as it could be a threath. But one of the members of the council, a thin, tall, scarred Klingon interrupted rudely.
- "There is no need for that. Why are we even here? He will be punished for his betrayal by the court. In the mean time, we have no time for futilities like this coward!" The Klingon banged his fist on the table, the dull sound reverberating in the dark depths of the room. Several other council members nodded vigorously, signing their approval of this outburst.
- "Learning details about your enemy hardly sounds like a futility to me." K'Raqt folded his arms in an unconciously defensive gesture. As soon as he was aware of it, he released his arms again, and stared around the table. He got many furious glances for his insolence to remind the Klingon of mantra 12 -- know your enemy. As head of this council, Traq'Tor was sitting silently on his throne. If he had any feelings about the insolence, he didn't show them -- except maybe for the twinkle in his eyes that hadn't died yet.
- "So tell us, then! What do you know about this ... 'horrible' enemy?" Another Klingon inquired impatiently. He very nearly spat out the word 'horrible' while he flicked his wrist in a contemptuous gesture. Contempt was an emotion very easily communicated in the Klingon language. Both verbal and body language have several richly detailed and colorful ways to convey how someone deserved contempt, and K'Raqt deserved the contempt for someone who left his mother at the mercy of the enemy.
K'Raqt sighed. He had worked himself in one of the least favorable corners possible. His shoulders hung slightly, as he shook his head slowly.
- "Very little ..."
- "Hah !"
- "... about his origin," K'Raqt ignored the brief interruption, "but our scanners did give us some interesting facts at close range. For starters, his ship is entirely biological. When he popped up in the middle of our fleet, we were confused about the number of lifesigns we read..."
- "Popped up ?" Several eyebrows quirked. "How could a ship surprise a Klingon military convoy with so many fine warriors, including my own son?" An older Klingon stood up and glared at K'Raqt. He wore the red-and-yellow insignia of the house Treq-Is.
- "Your son must indeed have been one of the finest among the convoy, although I've never had the honor to meet him," K'Raqt acknowledged the older Klingon with a respectful nod. "The enemy tore up his ship first, even though it was not the closest by, or the most heavily armed. I can see no other explanation than that this creature considered Tarok Treq-Is the biggest threat."
- "Wait a minute!" Someone else growled threateningly. The new Klingon was clearly younger, but slightly overweight. To humans, he would seem a fierce beast, but a Klingon warrior's eyes could spot the untrained flesh easily. The customary dagger on his side was heavily ornamented and perhaps the best give-away that this Klingon's talents lay somewhere outside the battlefield.
- "When you say 'this creature', do you mean to say there was only one of it?"
K'Raqt cursed himself under his breath. Of course, he had meant to tell them that. But he had hoped to ... prepare the honorables a bit. Wait at least until they would've accepted the idea of a superior enemy. Accepting superiority in numbers was one thing. But for the council to accept that a single individual had defeaten the cream of their naval army... K'Raqt did not expect that to happen somewhere this century.
- "Only one ..." K'Raqt grumbled unwillingly. He hesitated briefly, but there was nothing to add that would make the impossible odds seem a bit more acceptable. "One member of an unknown species to annihilate 5 Battle Cruisers." He sighed and shrugged.
The members of the Highest Council lost their self-control. They all rose and started shouting at him. Only Traq'Tor seemed nonsurplussed, leaning back in his chair and studying K'Raqt carefully.
- "Impossible!" Someone shouted angrily. More fists banged on the table. "I will not tolerate this! How could he possibly destroy an entire ship ?! One of our ships must've been a thousand times his size!"
K'Raqt shrugged impatiently. "Size does matter very little. Suppose you walked into a wooden shack, where the carcass was built of rotten wood. It would be several times your size, but still you would be able to break it down bare-handedly. Yet you couldn't damage a dilithium bar the size of your thumb, not even with a carefully crafted Bat'Leh."
There was a slow growl, and the other members of the council grew silent. A massively muscular Klingon leaned closer to the table. When he placed his hands on the sturdy table, it bowed slightly under the powerful weight. Each of those hands could've crushed a human skull easily, and they were rumored to have cracked several Klingon skulls on bar fights as well. When the warrior leaned forward, the light played on the insignia he bore on his left chest, and K'Raqt recognized the crest. House Seh-Merh'Min was a proud and powerful race. And they had a long tradition in ship building, from even before warp ships were being built.
- "Are you comparing my ships to a shack of rotten wood ?" he narrowed his eyes to glaring slits.
- "No," K'Raqt refuted strongly, "I am making a point! Size is not necessarily an advantage! None of our battlecruisers were designed to take on a small, one-person interceptor, and so the craft could fly along freely for several minutes, until some fighter pilots had scrambled and launched! By that time, one of the battle cruisers was already in flames."
There was some more outraged tumult at the enemy being ably to fly freely among five battlecruisers armed to the teeth, and K'Raqt was about to call out in frustration, but he saw Ster Seh-Merh'Min staring at him, and their eyes locked. Ster, although more of a warrior than an engineer, knew the intricate designs of all battlecruisers almost by heart. K'Raqt guessed that, when hearing of the defeat of his fleet and pride, he would've gone through the design sheets again and again, looking for a possible flaw.
- "We were too big ... it was too small" K'Raqt almost whispered, and the sound of his voice must've gone lost in the angry shouting of all the other nobles, but Ster seemed to have understood.
- "You had the smallest cruiser," he replied, his low rumble cutting through the noise of the assemblee and reaching K'Raqt clearly. "What did you do ?"
- "We turned the ship away and t.."
- "... and fled ! Right from the start of the battle!"
- "... and took our distance!" K'Raqt argued, growing exasperated. "We had to give our locking computers a good angle!"
- "A good tactic..." Ster Seh-Merh'Min conceded.
- "Not my idea." K'Raqt interjected crossly. "Admiral Treq'Is' command was to disperse and take aim. Obviously, our cruiser was the first to have reached an acceptable distance."
The chairman of the council let his mask of indifference slip momentarily to stare in bafflement at the young warrior in front of him. Who would be stupid enough to brush aside a compliment of a councillor? Especially when the rest of the council was so adamant about bringing the defendant to a cruel death ?
- "But you never even fired!" Ster roared and banged his fists on the table, which bucked heavily. The entire council repeated the accusation angrily, jumped up, and everyone started shouting at once. The chaos from the Klingon court had infected the council as well.
Traq'Thor, chairman of the High Council sighed heavily and signalled the guard to take the prisoner away. There would be no constructive argument, here. Not anymore.
_____________________________
Outside in the hallway, the guard surrounding K'Raqt was joined by a scarred veteran sporting grizzled manes and a mean limp.
- "Follow me." the veteran instructed the commander of the guard, pointing to the exit a little further. The guard, respectful but wary, paused his step momentarily.
- "I was instructed to take this one back to his prison." he ventured.
- "No you weren't." the grizzled veteran cackled briefly. "But I was specifically instructed to take this cub with me."
The story is going a bit slowly to my liking, but I hope I can speed things up now that everything has been set in motion. In the third chapter, K'Raqt will be on his way again. yay :)
____________________________________
- "Come nearer, young man." Traq'Tor gestured the prisoner to come a little closer. Surprisingly enough, it was almost a sympathetic gesture. K'Raqt studied the president's face carefully, and found it had very little in common with the other faces around the table. There was a twinkle in his eyes. Had he not known better, K'Raqt would've called it ... amusement?
- "Come nearer, and give these gentlemen your account of the events." Traq'Tor nodded invitingly. He also showed his teeth, but with a Klingon, showing your teeth could be a smile as easily as it could be a threath. But one of the members of the council, a thin, tall, scarred Klingon interrupted rudely.
- "There is no need for that. Why are we even here? He will be punished for his betrayal by the court. In the mean time, we have no time for futilities like this coward!" The Klingon banged his fist on the table, the dull sound reverberating in the dark depths of the room. Several other council members nodded vigorously, signing their approval of this outburst.
- "Learning details about your enemy hardly sounds like a futility to me." K'Raqt folded his arms in an unconciously defensive gesture. As soon as he was aware of it, he released his arms again, and stared around the table. He got many furious glances for his insolence to remind the Klingon of mantra 12 -- know your enemy. As head of this council, Traq'Tor was sitting silently on his throne. If he had any feelings about the insolence, he didn't show them -- except maybe for the twinkle in his eyes that hadn't died yet.
- "So tell us, then! What do you know about this ... 'horrible' enemy?" Another Klingon inquired impatiently. He very nearly spat out the word 'horrible' while he flicked his wrist in a contemptuous gesture. Contempt was an emotion very easily communicated in the Klingon language. Both verbal and body language have several richly detailed and colorful ways to convey how someone deserved contempt, and K'Raqt deserved the contempt for someone who left his mother at the mercy of the enemy.
K'Raqt sighed. He had worked himself in one of the least favorable corners possible. His shoulders hung slightly, as he shook his head slowly.
- "Very little ..."
- "Hah !"
- "... about his origin," K'Raqt ignored the brief interruption, "but our scanners did give us some interesting facts at close range. For starters, his ship is entirely biological. When he popped up in the middle of our fleet, we were confused about the number of lifesigns we read..."
- "Popped up ?" Several eyebrows quirked. "How could a ship surprise a Klingon military convoy with so many fine warriors, including my own son?" An older Klingon stood up and glared at K'Raqt. He wore the red-and-yellow insignia of the house Treq-Is.
- "Your son must indeed have been one of the finest among the convoy, although I've never had the honor to meet him," K'Raqt acknowledged the older Klingon with a respectful nod. "The enemy tore up his ship first, even though it was not the closest by, or the most heavily armed. I can see no other explanation than that this creature considered Tarok Treq-Is the biggest threat."
- "Wait a minute!" Someone else growled threateningly. The new Klingon was clearly younger, but slightly overweight. To humans, he would seem a fierce beast, but a Klingon warrior's eyes could spot the untrained flesh easily. The customary dagger on his side was heavily ornamented and perhaps the best give-away that this Klingon's talents lay somewhere outside the battlefield.
- "When you say 'this creature', do you mean to say there was only one of it?"
K'Raqt cursed himself under his breath. Of course, he had meant to tell them that. But he had hoped to ... prepare the honorables a bit. Wait at least until they would've accepted the idea of a superior enemy. Accepting superiority in numbers was one thing. But for the council to accept that a single individual had defeaten the cream of their naval army... K'Raqt did not expect that to happen somewhere this century.
- "Only one ..." K'Raqt grumbled unwillingly. He hesitated briefly, but there was nothing to add that would make the impossible odds seem a bit more acceptable. "One member of an unknown species to annihilate 5 Battle Cruisers." He sighed and shrugged.
The members of the Highest Council lost their self-control. They all rose and started shouting at him. Only Traq'Tor seemed nonsurplussed, leaning back in his chair and studying K'Raqt carefully.
- "Impossible!" Someone shouted angrily. More fists banged on the table. "I will not tolerate this! How could he possibly destroy an entire ship ?! One of our ships must've been a thousand times his size!"
K'Raqt shrugged impatiently. "Size does matter very little. Suppose you walked into a wooden shack, where the carcass was built of rotten wood. It would be several times your size, but still you would be able to break it down bare-handedly. Yet you couldn't damage a dilithium bar the size of your thumb, not even with a carefully crafted Bat'Leh."
There was a slow growl, and the other members of the council grew silent. A massively muscular Klingon leaned closer to the table. When he placed his hands on the sturdy table, it bowed slightly under the powerful weight. Each of those hands could've crushed a human skull easily, and they were rumored to have cracked several Klingon skulls on bar fights as well. When the warrior leaned forward, the light played on the insignia he bore on his left chest, and K'Raqt recognized the crest. House Seh-Merh'Min was a proud and powerful race. And they had a long tradition in ship building, from even before warp ships were being built.
- "Are you comparing my ships to a shack of rotten wood ?" he narrowed his eyes to glaring slits.
- "No," K'Raqt refuted strongly, "I am making a point! Size is not necessarily an advantage! None of our battlecruisers were designed to take on a small, one-person interceptor, and so the craft could fly along freely for several minutes, until some fighter pilots had scrambled and launched! By that time, one of the battle cruisers was already in flames."
There was some more outraged tumult at the enemy being ably to fly freely among five battlecruisers armed to the teeth, and K'Raqt was about to call out in frustration, but he saw Ster Seh-Merh'Min staring at him, and their eyes locked. Ster, although more of a warrior than an engineer, knew the intricate designs of all battlecruisers almost by heart. K'Raqt guessed that, when hearing of the defeat of his fleet and pride, he would've gone through the design sheets again and again, looking for a possible flaw.
- "We were too big ... it was too small" K'Raqt almost whispered, and the sound of his voice must've gone lost in the angry shouting of all the other nobles, but Ster seemed to have understood.
- "You had the smallest cruiser," he replied, his low rumble cutting through the noise of the assemblee and reaching K'Raqt clearly. "What did you do ?"
- "We turned the ship away and t.."
- "... and fled ! Right from the start of the battle!"
- "... and took our distance!" K'Raqt argued, growing exasperated. "We had to give our locking computers a good angle!"
- "A good tactic..." Ster Seh-Merh'Min conceded.
- "Not my idea." K'Raqt interjected crossly. "Admiral Treq'Is' command was to disperse and take aim. Obviously, our cruiser was the first to have reached an acceptable distance."
The chairman of the council let his mask of indifference slip momentarily to stare in bafflement at the young warrior in front of him. Who would be stupid enough to brush aside a compliment of a councillor? Especially when the rest of the council was so adamant about bringing the defendant to a cruel death ?
- "But you never even fired!" Ster roared and banged his fists on the table, which bucked heavily. The entire council repeated the accusation angrily, jumped up, and everyone started shouting at once. The chaos from the Klingon court had infected the council as well.
Traq'Thor, chairman of the High Council sighed heavily and signalled the guard to take the prisoner away. There would be no constructive argument, here. Not anymore.
_____________________________
Outside in the hallway, the guard surrounding K'Raqt was joined by a scarred veteran sporting grizzled manes and a mean limp.
- "Follow me." the veteran instructed the commander of the guard, pointing to the exit a little further. The guard, respectful but wary, paused his step momentarily.
- "I was instructed to take this one back to his prison." he ventured.
- "No you weren't." the grizzled veteran cackled briefly. "But I was specifically instructed to take this cub with me."