For Honor (Part 1 of 2)

Posted on 29 Mar 2017 @ 8:13pm by Ensign Miraj Derani & General ('aj) Ko'raH House of G'Iogh

1,962 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Episode 14 - Statecraft
Location: IKS DuJa'Q - Main Hanger Bay
Timeline: MD 10, 2230 hrs

[ON]

With the DuJa'Q On its way to the Neutral Zone, there was little real flying to do, before Miraj could settle though, she decided it was time to do something she should have done earlier, and Miraj wandered down to the Shuttlebay to give the small complement of shuttles the cruiser had a once over, make sure their suicidally fun manoeuvre hadn't done them any obvious damage.

The first seemed okay, but the second, a squat little beast of a Kivra had obviously taken a clubbing from something that hadn't been battened down properly. "Poor poppet," she cooed at it, running a finger along the dent in the forward portside panel. Something must have hit it hard to leave a dent. Possibly a sharp edge of a crate thrown at 9Gs "I'll get Lamar to make it all better." Her warrant officer knew his way around Federation shuttlecraft. Hopefully he'd be just as good with Klingon ones. "You'll be as good as new in no time."

The hangar bay door entrance opened and was followed by a series of heavy footsteps stepping into the large expanse. Commander Chorag paused briefly to look around and inspect the room as part of his routine patrol. Two dark green and gray shuttles were parked neatly next to each other, but their warrior-esque silhouettes were rudely interrupted by a fluff of pink hair belonging to a Starfleet crew member.

Chorag was a proud warrior; despite his dismissal from Klingon Academy for failing one of his challenges in the latter half of his instructions, he'd been one of the youngest and brightest tactical minds in the Empire. He'd fled to Kreanus shortly afterwards at a young age, barely five years ago following his family's manufactured disgrace to attack his father's unorthodox political beliefs.

His resolve was unparalleled and his heart was usually aligned to whoever would offer him a chance to redeem his family's honor. As he looked at the Federation ensign touching and talking to one of his shuttlecraft, he knew said person would offer him no such retribution.

"What are you doing, ensign?" he asked in a gruff voice as he approached. His long and wavy dark hair was neatly tied back into a ponytail and his mustache and goatee seemed more elegant than those of most Klingons. Handsome yet youthful features adorned his face when he spoke but were accented by a discerning frown directed towards Derani.

"Checking on the babies." Miraj told him. She knew it would probably make him splutter, but after calling her a harlot, she felt like annoying him. "Need to make sure they're all ship-shape and Bristol-fashion after our little jaunt the other day. Poor, Kej'lA"
got a bit of a bruise." She rubbed at the shuttles nose like it was a horse.

The young warrior walked at a good pace until he was standing next to Derani. His tall and muscular frame was a good foot taller than her which forced him to look down upon her head of obnoxiously-colored hair. "They are shuttlecraft," he stated matter-of-factly. "It seems one has taken damage from our last battle. You are the conn officer that the general had replace one my own?" he asked. "Fix it."

Really? That hadn't occurred to me at all. but she hadn't the nerve to use straight sarcasm on him. "I'll put my Warrant Officer on it." She gave him a happy smile. "Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?"

"Yes, there is." Chorag walked around her, his large upper arm brushing against her shoulder. He paced back around her to the other side where he previously was while stroking his lengthy goatee. "You are Starfleet -- from the Academy?" It was more a statement than a question. "What are the Federation support craft impulse manifold tolerances?" he asked.

She turned to follow him, not liking his attempts to overawe her physically, mostly because it was succeeding. She only ended up feeling a bit dizzy, and a lot like a mouse being examined by a cat. "Intake, propulsion or exhaust?" An impulse engine had multiple manifolds, though most times people were thinking of the propulsion unit, which could quite often clog and impede acceleration.

"What is the intake tolerance? And the exhaust emission frequency?" he clarified, now standing still to look down at her. Judging. Watching.

What did he want? "Intake depends on the craft, though most don't like anything more than a millimetre off overall diameter. And exhaust emissions don't have a frequency. Its just molecules." Of stuff. She wasn't exacty sure what. It wasn't completely essential to flying in the way the imtake and propulsion outputs were, so it hadn't stuck in her mind.

A guttural sound of displeasure emanated from Chorag's throat. She hadn't replied with the specifics, which he took for a lack of flight control knowledge and grounds for being considered unfit for duty. Maybe this quality of young fledgling was what Starfleet considered to be a 'helm officer,' but he expected more from his crew. "You do not know the frequency at which your vessels emit emissions on the electromagnetic spectrum?" he replied. "You think molecules do not give off radiation? What flight academy did you go to? A Ferengi one?"

She took a step back at the growl. This was getting really weird. "Anywhere from four hundred nanometers up!" she said urgently trying to pacify him. "Most of it is just heat and light. Anything more useful goes into the propulsion unit. You asked about the exhaust, which is waste product. Heat and Light!"

A single humph sounded from Chorag. It was one of satisfaction after just being told semi-classified data about Starfleet support craft. "Yes, good. And your starships?" he continued. "They cannot match the Empire's thrust vectoring capabilities. How do you compensate in battle for having slower and less maneuverable platforms?" He squinted his eyes and peered at her suspiciously. "...Or do you lure your opponents into a false sense of diplomacy..?"

"I don't know!" Miraj wasn't sure about any of that. "I just fly! And it really depends on the ship. You can't make massive generalisations! Besides. Didn't we beat you in the last war?"

"Ha!" he barked. "In the 'last war,' your people asked us for assistance to defeat the Dominion. An opponent you provoked and underestimated, then was almost conquered by. You owe us your lives for our sacrifices to save your 'Federation'."

Miraj had spent most of her history lessons calculating the best flight routes around most of the battles. She certainly didn't recall any of the details. "If you say so. It was before I was born." It wasn't exactly true, but she had been a babe in arms, freshly delivered to Deep Space Nine for her father to collect.

Chorag inspected her further, and for the first time, took in her slight appearance and lithe frame. She seemed barely battle-worthy and very submissive, but perhaps she could be of use to him. "You are timid and weak," he said, leaning down to speak into her ear. "But you could be more. You could become a real woman and a warrior..."

Real woman? "I am a real woman," she stammered. That sounded like it was going to go the same place as 'entertaining' Kora'H. Was the whole world obsessed with sex? And the other thing? She could barely tie her own shoe laces, but she knew how good she was at the helm. "And I don't want to be a warrior. I'm a pilot. One of the best in the fleet."

"Yesss..." he said quietly while continuing to study her. "Your confidence gives you strength. Your youth gives your excellent reaction time and intuition." Chorag put a large hand on her opposite shoulder to pull her close and reveal his desire. "A helm officer such as you could have a very worthy career on Kreanus. Your talents are...unique. You could gain glory and prestige if you joined my squadron, and never have to worry about any Federation 'protocols' ever again. You would get to pilot the largest and most advanced warships in the quadrant...and take them into battle to defeat the enemy," he proposed. It was an offer no sane conn officer could refuse.

A career on Kreanus? The best ships in the fleet? Whatever this guy was taking, she could have used some on that forsaken rock. She couldn't help it. It was just too funny. She laughed. She clapped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late. The light, bubbling, sound filled the hanger bay as she giggled at the ridiculous idea.

The insolent laughter quickly enraged the young Klingon commander. His grip on her shoulder tightened till his fingers dug deep into the bones of the joint. He used his firm grip on her to spin her around so they were now face to face. "Do not mock me, Federation," he warned with a hissing voice. "I am offering you an opportunity that no warrior could refuse. Do you really think your vessel and crew will escape this mission in anything less than a penal colony?" he asked, his eyes now severe and full of Klingon rage. "Your Starfleet crew's destiny has already been...pre-arranged," he deviously revealed. "I do not wish for you to share their fate. Don't be a fool and refuse my offer."

"Our destiny?" Miraj's eyes went wide. Whenthe Klingon had grabbed her she had feared he was going to hit her, but his revelation was worse. "What destiny?"

"...To die... Or be captured and serve a life of submission," he coldly answered. "But I do not want that for you. You are unique and you could be an asset to our cause. A great warrior revered by many for your talents, in time." He turned his head to look at the rest of the shuttlebay while giving a sweeping motion of his arm across it. "I have made arrangements with the general...to recover this vessel after he is victorious in defeating the High Council." He didn't specify which general, but any attentive listener could understand that he wasn't referring about Saalm.

She knew it! She had known that Ko'raH was up to something. But she needed to know more. What exactly was the plan? No heroine in a novel worth her salt would let it rest there. The trouble was, Miraj knew, that she didn't exactly do guile and cunning. She did her best to look sceptical and scornful, and not eager. "He's hardly going to defeat the Council hiding on Kreanus. I think I've got more chance at fame and fortune where I am. Kor'aH can't do anything right."

Chorag grinned at her ignorance before whispering further into her ear to reveal secret information. Leave it to the Federation's supposed best and brightest to be so unaware of their surroundings. "He is not hiding on Kreanus..."

Miraj gasped. She had accused Kor'aH of using the Starfleet crew as a cover when he'd had taken her clothes. Now she had proof. "I'm flying a Trojan Horse!" she realised. "He's here?" And she wasn't sure she wanted to encounter the old Klingon again.

"Not on this vessel...he shadows us in his own warship where our sensors cannot detect him. But I know of his presence and his plans. And many others. We are all loyal to the general. The TRUE general...not Starfleet's feeble Orion 'diplomat'."

To Be Continued...

[OFF]

--

Ensign Miraj Derani
Chief Flight Control Officer
IKS DuJa'Q

Commander Chorag
Executive Officer
IKS DuJa'Q
[PNPC Saalm]

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