S2 M8 - Seed of the Garden

[Catherine Goodspeed]

IKS Lod Qan - Main Engineering

"vISov," Torpa declared, indicating that she recognized Catherine.  "You helped repair my father's freighter during the war!" She declared this excitedly, and positioned her hand at thigh-level.  "I was only a small girl this tall when we met.  It was before my family swore ourselves to House Voch.  I remember you cursed violently in two languages and struck one of our men with a spanner when he tried to interfere with your fusion generator repairs.  It was then that I knew Engineering could still be part of the warrior's path!"

Her face fell a bit as she added, "My father died on that ship, the Pok, later that year.  I had been sent to live with my mother the month before.  I would have rather died with him.  We would be in Sto'vo'kor together, fighting the eternal War."

She brightened, though, when Catherine gave permission to use her shortened name.  "You honor me, Cat lagh'.   You will see that this ship is better than the freighters you may have gotten used to.  Let me show you his heart."

She led the way into the large chamber that housed the warp core.  "The core has been modified with upgrades, but this is still the original one, when the ship was called the Ch'Tang."  She gestured as they walked on the gangway that circled the core, "These original D-7 cores were optimised for plasma throughput.  They push massive quantities of plasma through the system.  The plasma is much lower energy than the K'tinga upgrades, which is why it has this red color, but this system is much more reliable, in my opinion.

Back then, the quality of Engineers was poorer than it is now, and the systems were designed for minimal maintenance and maximum self-regulation.  Unless we are mangled by weapons fire, the core will not fail you.

Where the ship may falter instead is the lack of backup EPS lines.  Our lines are very robust, but if they breach, there is no easy way to re-route the plasma around the breach.  The line must be closed, and a bypass shunt must be quickly installed until the breach is repaired.  It is a hard job, and a dangerous one.  Many warriors lost their lives, incinerated to the bone, repairing such damage.  It wasn't until the K'tinga came that a full set of backup EPS lines was installed on every Klingon cruiser."

As they walked, various other engineers eyed them curiously, no doubt wondering about this diminutive old human woman who was walking about with their Sergeant.  All the more curious because their Sergeant was showing this human the utmost deference.

One man passed a talon coin to another.  "You win.  It has been five minutes, and the exchange officer has not been taken to the infirmary, yet."

His companion took the coin and shrugged, "You forget our new path."

The first man shook his head, "Sometimes, I wonder if we have chosen the right path.  The old ways are not perfect, but they ensured strong leadership."

"Strong, yes," came his friend's reply, "But best?"

Their voices faded as the tour continued.  If Torpa noticed their chatter, she didn't give it any attention.  Indeed, it almost seemed like she was actively ignoring them, and leading Cat's attention away from it.

IKS Lod Qan - Main Engineering

As Torpa mentioned her Father a box inside Cats head opened up, springing forth a memory locked inside.

Her face was one of surprise and shock as the Klingon engineer explained how she had met Cat before.  She was even more humbled and honoured at the explanation that it was in fact herself that had helped steer this proud woman on the path of being an engineer.

Cat was speechless.

Even though she had never wanted children herself, every night she would hope she would be awakened by the banging of the door of her station apartment or the family home where she would try and spend each weekend by a Nephew or Niece demanding to be taught the skill of ship building, repair and design like their forebears.  But that day had never happened.

Cat had seen herself as the last ship being wheeled off the assembly run.  The last of her line.

She has never expected the mere act of being able to swear in multiple languages and having the balls to smash a 6ft 8 inch Klingon with the nearest tool when his interference could have cost the lives of all in the room  would have been such an inspiration to a child looking on.

Who would have thought that a civilian human with ripe language and a good aim would be someone who would have motivated a young Klingon in their choice of career? Bet that wasn't in any Starfleet manual. Nor would it have been in Duras's manifesto; he who had wanted to drag the Klingon Empire back to the Dark and bloody ages of anti Federation war-like days. 'Ha!' Thought Cat. 'I bite my thumb at thee Duras'.

Cat felt the familiar feeling of the closing of her throat as she tried to keep her emotions in check. She swallowed hard.

"I REMEMBER your Father Torpa! And you!"  Cat smiled warmly.  "He was a proud and worthy man. But not worthy to be taken so soon from you."

Cat shook her head slowly "And no matter how much you would have wanted to join him in Sto'vo'kor he would not have wanted that for his beloved daughter. He is there now singing songs of you and how proud he is that you choose such a path".

"There will be plenty of time for you to celebrate with him once you are  old. Think of the stories you will be able to tell him. To sing with him!"

As Torpa began her tour Cat noticed from her peripheral vision the 2 other Klingon crew members talking and the exchange of coin.

Cat thought it amusing that in the human female the majority had peripheral vision of almost 180 degrees.

'I SEE you foolish menfolk' Cat thought to herself.

As she walked past Cat bought from under her uniform the silver chain on which dangled the 2 gnarly teeth she had knocked from the mouths of Klingon's who had disrespected her crew at the Building yard a few years back.

Let them see that I may be old and human but I'm not afraid to throw a punch or a spanner at a Klingon.

IKS Lod Qan - Captain's War Room

Captain's Officer Exchange Log.

This is Day One of my time in charge of the IKS Lod Qan.

The Tholian attack ship has docked, and we have departed Katra Station.  The Lod Qan is now under warp, heading towards our destination under cloak at Warp 6.  This cruiser is theoretically capable of speeds in excess of Warp 7, but I do not feel comfortable pushing her that fast, both due to her age and due to the interacting gravimetric fields between the cruiser and our Tholian tagalong.

It will take us several days at this speed to reach our destination: A candidate star system for Klingon colonization.  We will make a system survey and perform planetary scans, to confirm that one of the worlds in the system is suitable for habitation by Klingon colonists.  Long-range scans have been conducted on this system in the past, but scanning a system from light-years away is no substitute for a close examination.

I experienced an interesting Klingon cultural phenomenon when I took command.  My executive officer led the bridge in song.  It was... strange.  Strange to be a Vulcan, raised under a philosophy of minimizing violence.  Now to find myself leading a Klingon ship, singing songs about blood and violence.  If you had asked me five years ago what I would be doing five years hence, I would never have guessed about such a path.

I am about to send invitations to the officers of this ship to join me for a feast in the mess hall in a few hours.  We will toast to the success of our mission, sample the... rather unfortunate Klingon cuisine, and perhaps touch base on some of our experiences.

I continue to be apprehensive about the potential necessity of defending my position at some point during this journey.  Although I qualified as a martial arts instructor on Vulcan during my youth, I wonder how I might fare against a warrior who has been training himself to kill since the day he was old enough to pick up a sword.

I can only hope that I have the skill not only to defend myself, but also to subdue a dangerous foe without killing them.

Time will tell.

End Log.

IKS Lod Qan - Main Engineering

And so it began.

As the The Lod Qan pulled himself from his slumber Cat could feel the initially strain on the Old Man.

She patted the console in front of her and whispered under her breathe in a soothing voice like a mother to a young child "There there old boy.. Steady as you go..."

So this is what a cart horse feels like.  Pulling along something from neutral into a medium canter.  Of a tug boat of old, pulling a ship a thousand times its weight to a safe harbour.

It was an odd sensation.

Also odd to call a ship a 'man' but it felt right to her.  Normally ships were a 'she' to Cat, much to the amusement of many but each ship had their own way and to her, for some strange reason this Klingon ship felt like an old man, creakily getting up from a comfortable chair to head out for his daily  hourly long walk amongst a gnarled forest pathway.

Cat was immensely relieved when her Captain had insisted no faster than Warp 6.  If he hadn't and had demanded the vessel go any faster she would have politely but very firmly and with no hint of a spanner being raised, told him where to insert that order.

She had also instructed the Tholian vessel that only the bare minimum power should be used whilst at Warp and under cloak.

No shields; no sudden power surges; just the basic power they needed to run their ship and stay alive.  There was no need for them to use any form of propulsion as that was one of the beauties of the Captains plan.  All they had to do was be pulled along and sit and wait.

Cat wasn't sure if they had thumbs to twiddle but they would be doing a lot of whatever they consider thumb twiddling to a Tholian until they got to their final destination.

As the old Klingon vessel began to speed up Cat hadn't realised she'd been holding her breath until her brain had asked very nicely if she wouldn't mind breathing again.

Cat exhaled and inhaled deeply, her eyes never leaving the display console until she deemed she could lift her head.

She looked around at both Klingon and Starfleet crew and smiled like no one was watching, baring her upper teeth.

"Qapla!!!"

[Kirok]

[Bridge - IKS Lod Qan]

Not having much to do at this point in the journey, Hrafn was keeping an eye on her passive scans and, on her personal PADD had sent a message to Nevir, one to the children via Crista, and one to Ujosso.

It was with Ujosso and the children in mind, but addressing both the Captain and Zex she opened a channel to Eydis so she could hear too as it might interest the Tholians... swivelled in her chair and said.

"Welcome Eydis of Tholia, I'm pleased to work with you again.  The children recall their time on your ship with pleasure, and ask that I relay greetings to you.  Captain, Ensign Zex... a thought just occurred to me.  We sang a song when we were about to embark, which, while not an imposition, was a surprise to me and I think some of us who aren't Klingons." the CSO paused contemplating how best to broach the subject.

"We are blessed on the station to have a multitude of species, embassies and so on, and our own Diplomatic Corps.  I was wondering, might it be possible for our allies to be persuaded to give some... I'll call them 'crash courses' for want of a better name for them, on the customs both for formal occasions and on ships and so on.  Our crewmembers could take them almost like the idea of 'night classes' on Earth - extra curricular courses.  Maybe they could be endorsed by the Starfleet Academy so some kind of official accreditation could be given.  And thus, some of us would be more prepared for this sort of thing.  I'm not saying that I should be taking on our current XO with a bat'leth... although I'm out of practice, I can wield one.  My time on the USS Phoenix with Ragnar Hughes saw to that.  His philosophy was that we might not be able to choose our weapons so should be prepared to fight with whatever we could lay our hands on.  I personally don't like most weapons but if it's my life or theirs.... "

Realising she was rambling because she was bored she shrugged.  "Just an idea.  When can we expect to be at this star system and do we have a name for it so I may do some research on it?"

[Bridge - IKS Lod Qan]

Zex saw Hrafn swivel in her chair and face the Captain.  The CSO make a good point and had a good idea.  She wondered how the Captain would respond.

If there was going to be a crash course, as Hrafn, had suggested Zex definitely wanted to take part in it.  If not, they would just have to learn by watching.  Which sometimes lead to mis-steps.

Culturally speaking, though, the best way to learn about another culture was to immerse oneself in in.  Live among the natives as it were.  Speak their language.

She turned in her seat.  "And if you can teach us relevant Klingon words, that would help us too.  Captain, sir" she suggested.

[Paul Wessex]

"No miss, I can assure you your sister's mixed heritage is not the reason I am not taking into account your wishes to cease the investigation into the theft."

The half-human, half-Cardassian, Mila Sole, laughed in reply to Paul's response to her stepsister's - Sierra - accusation. "You StarFleeters think all us Cardassians are the same. That we must be up to 'no good'. Why else would you want to keep digging around when we've said we want to forget about it?"

Wessex frowned at that. It would take far too long to debate that he was only recently Starfleet, and until now the only Cardassians he had met were marine pirates who were unambiguously 'up to no good' by virtue they kept being caught with raided cargo and shooting at him. But as a people, they were no more guilty of criminal acts than any other race - there were a greater number of Humans in the pirate business than Cardassians, for a start. Instead, Paul appealed to their sense of community spirit. "The fact is, there have been a spate of thefts around Katra, which have disrupted the lives, and livelihoods, of your fellow businesses - businesses that rely on a safe environment to trade without fear. I am, unapologetically, part of this station's security, and I have been tasked - by the Chief of Security himself no less - to bring an end to these activities. Now, I have absolutely no preconceptions about you, your heritage, or the culprits, but I ask you both - as upstanding members of this remarkable civilian zone - to consider assisting me for the sake of not just your business, but theirs."

The two sisters shared a glance, and Paul thought he saw a small nod of acquiesce. "Fine" huffed Mila. "How can we help?"

"I really do appreciate this" Wessex started, and raised his PADD and tapped some keys. "Only some very minor things, I promise." He glanced at PADD's contents, and back up, as if an aide memoir. "Firstly, how many of these stolen sandals do you have in stock? May I see a pair? Just to get an idea of what was recently taken."

Sierra replied to this. "They were one of a kind." Her voice was cool but at least accommodating.

"Oh? Custom-made?" Wessex made a motion to make a note. "Do you have a-?"

"No. They were just a display pair. To generate interest for future stock ideas." Sierra looked to her sister, and she nodded also.

Paul pulled a puzzled face. "That seems like a strange business mod-"

At that, Mila narrowed her eyes. "Do you have any experience in shopkeeping? If not, I suggest you leave the supply and demand decisions to those who do."

Wessex held his free hand up, and closed his eyes momentarily to defuse the spiky tone. "No offence meant, I assure you. I simply meant: if someone wanted a pair, could they buy them there and then? Or would you need to contact the supplier to have some couriered in?"

"The latter" said Sierra, shooting Mila a 'behave' look that only sisters could get away with.

"Okay. That's really useful." Another tap of the screen. "I don't suppose you'd like to tell me who the supplier is?" He flashed a beaming smile laced with some rascally chancing.

Sierra raised an eyebrow at the brazen attempt, but her demeanour warmed a little. "I'd rather not. Commercially sensitive information. I'm sure you understand."

"Despite the uniform: perfectly", he chuckled as being so obviously caught out, before letting it trail off as a thought came to him.  "Although...you're the only footwear shop on station."

Mila snapped out of her momentary mood and joined back in. "You never know who might feel the need to suddenly branch out. Not to mention there are whole sections still waiting for new businesses".

"Ah, of course", he said with a rolling of his eyes at his apparent realisation. He tapped the screen thoughtfully. "I understand there have been several thefts here of late. Anything odd about the thieves? Recognise any of them? Perhaps seen them again about the station?"

"Because I'm Cardassian?" Mila crossed her arms indignantly, her glare once again becoming intense.

But her sister placed a hand on one forearm, and took a less confrontational tone. "Mira, please. No, Officer Wessex. They've all been different."

Wessex adopted a small, gentle smile at the gesture, his tone becoming even softer. "And have they stolen anything of note? I don't suppose you recall if they've all been the same size?"

"I'm afraid we don't" Sierra said. "They're sent to us by our suppliers, and we don't generally check the size - only the interest."

Paul looked up, and frowned at that. "So...they've all been display models?"

"No, sorry" she recounted. "I'm just a little confused. They've been from the shelves too."

With that, Wessex smiled widely again, and turned off his PADD. "That's really useful. Thank you both, genuinely, for your time. I really am grateful for your help. If you remember anything else, please ask station operations to put you through to me."

"That's quite alright. And we will." Sierra, with the expertise of someone well practised in the art of customer service, promised with sincerity.

With a broad smile, Paul nodded his head to the two owners, and left the store - his mind full of questions. And the customs log he was instead reading on his PADD.

But first...the mortuary.

"He's quite dashing" Mila eventually said to her sister. "Do you think I came on too strong?"

"You're incorrigible" came the laughed reply. "But we need to make a call."

Finally, finding his way there, Wessex came in to the outer office and looked about. "I'm looking for an Ensign Darrow" he asked, collaring one of the team passing by.

[Solluk]

IKS Lod Qan - Bridge

K'mpoc came up behind Hrafn, and laid a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"Do not trouble our HoD with such matters, Hrafn lagh.  It is my task to instruct you, and to be sure you understand every aspect of your duty."

He looked to Zex as she chimed in, "If there is anything you wish to know, you will ask me."

"And so," Solluk declared, "if anyone on the crew does not know their duty, or the custom of the moment, you shall be responsible."

K'mpoc turned to regard his Captain.  He nodded once, "As it should be," he answered.

IKS Lod Qan - Mess Hall

Solluk had not realized that sending an invitation to dinner was an oddity on a Klingon ship until K'mpoc had informed him.  Apparently, it was usual for officers to feast together, and if the Captain wanted someone in particular at the table, he would simply holler at them to 'Join Me!'

Nontheless, Solluk had sent an invitation.  He had even asked Zex to invite the Tholians, although it seemed unlikely they would have any interest in the fare.  Perhaps, though, they would enjoy the conversation.

K'mpoc was already here when Solluk arrived.  He was serving himself a heaping plate of gagh from a large serving dish on the table.  Solluk took a plate and stepped up beside him, scooping the wriggly creatures onto his own plate.  Although this mission would ultimately involve going against KDF orders, sneaking through Gregari-controlled space, and trying to rescue a wounded Crystalline Entity...

... it was the food that felt most harrowing to Solluk.

"Do you think the Tholians will come," K'mpoc asked as he took a seat to the right hand of Solluk's, "I do not think any Tholian has ever before boarded a Klingon warship."

Solluk sat as well, wishing he had a fork.  Klingons, it seemed, mostly ate with their fingers.  "Surely this wouldn't be the first time.  Haven't Klingons ever clashed with Tholians?"

K'mpoc lifted a handful of the wormlike creatures to his mouth, slurping them in and chewing them like pasta.  When he had swallowed, he nodded, "Some minor skirmishes, as the Empire thought to expand its borders into Tholian space.  The engagements ended in much glory... but little victory.  Perhaps some Tholians have boarded Klingon ships before... but no witness survived to write a song about it.

We would have defeated them in war, had hostilities been pressed.  But other concerns surfaced, and the Chancellor of the time elected not to pursue the matter.  Since then, we have respected the borders of the Assembly.  I suppose our dead warriors must have made an impression, at least, for the Tholians have respected our borders as well.  There has been little contact since that time."

"Perhaps this is an opportunity to change that relationship for the better," Solluk suggested.

"Perhaps," K'mpoc said, then nodded at Solluk, "But that will go as easily as your gagh will go down your throat."

Solluk eyed K'mpoc for a moment, then grasped a handful of the gagh and nearly swallowed it un-chewed.

To his credit, he managed not to choke.

[Don Damien Addams]

IKS Lod Qan - Training Hall

Kost bu' turned to his men.  "You heard him!  Our new ne' wishes to see your prowess.  Make a circle.  Each of you shall duel, two at a time.  Starting with... you!"

He pointed out two of the warriors, who eagerly prepared their bat'leths to demonstrate their skill.  The other warriors gathered around, cheering them as they came together in a clash of steel.  It was just the sort of activity to sharpen what otherwise may have been a dull beginning to the voyage.

"Ah excellent!" Kal said. "This is good. What other way do you sharpen your fighting skills?" He asked. That was one of good question. It was going to make him take some beating cause he was new.

"You don't have a holodeck. I find holodecks a great combat room. You can summon up other warriors to fight from other alien species. Bree. Romulans. Borg. Cardassians. Even different fighting styles from each species. So...ever tested you skill of being blind?" he offered another idea.

[Beja]

Katra Station - OCC- Station Commander's Ready Room - Morning Day 4

Beja smiled brightly at her father, it was so good to have him back in her life on a more personal level. It had been far too many years of her putting a wall up and galaxies away from her family.  Life was too short as her human friends said, she needed to grab the cow by the tail and life it to the fullest, like she always tells her clients too.

She took a seat, and a sip of the drink, realizing that it was not a raktajino but rather a warnog. That was a bit perplexing, to have such a strong drink so early. Just when her father had taken command of Katra. Maybe it was a sign that he was nervous about doing a good job, or maybe there was news of home that was not pleasant he had to tell her.

Beja felt the rise of anxiety inside of her and she took a large drink of the warnog to help calm her down and keep the nervousness at bay. "œOf course father, you can talk to me about anything. Just between us, not a commander of Katra, nor a counselor for Starfleet. But a father and his daughter."

"œIs there something troubling you? Is mother alright?" Beja asked with some trepidation in her voice. She was not sure if she was ready for the answers her father might give.

[Rayek trLhoell]

Lt. Cmdr. Rayek tr'Lhoell
[Katra Station - Deck 2 - s'Lhoell quarters - evening of day 2]

Lt. Cmdr. Tess t'Lhoell (7 months pregnant)
+ NPC Lt. Fabiano Moreno (Science), NPC Cadet Benjin Moreno (Flight)
[Katra Station - Deck 2 - s'Lhoell quarters - evening of day 2]

Indeed, both Tess and Fabiano looked at him surprised. "You don't like it?", Fabiano asked.

"I thought you might enjoy the privilege of getting your hands on additional information ahead of everyone else, in fact, information most of the crew won't ever get to see?" She knew how important it was to Rayek to collect as much information as possible about events and people. Pausing, she tried to think back if she had missed any signs that Rayek might be unhappy with his duty as SOO.

Benjin joined them and flopped down in the armchair. It was hard to tell who have had enough of playing - Benjin or the ferret Thrafv. He had missed the conversation while he had been busy with the little ferret and now found his father's and sister's eyes on him. Benjin gave a crooked grin, one leg draped over the arm rest to let his foot dangle from it. "Made up your mind, sis? I mean, Lt. Commander?"

Tess looked back at her brother, sighing. She knew it wasn't right, and maybe she was doing the exact thing with her brother she had told Rayek not to do when it came to her, but she hesitated to assign her little brother to a dangerous mission. She was just as worried about her husband, but she knew he had the skill and ability to fight and keep himself safe. After her little brother getting severely injured by the explosion the fake Rayek had initiated a few weeks ago, something had changed in Tess in regards to him.

"What are you talking about?", Fabiano asked, looking from Benjin to Tess.

"He wants to be assigned to the Lod Qan."

"It will be great training and experience for me", he was quick to state. "It will look good in my report I have to send to the academy."

With Tess' comment about his usual interest in intel, Rayek wondered if it was she who had pushed for his placement as SOO.  He hoped not.  He hated to disappoint her with his apparent ungratefulness.

"You are correct in that I do prefer to be well-informed," Rayek agreed looking to Tess specifically.  His next words however he spoke quieter, "but while I know I am fully capable of the position, there are aspects of it that are far too reminiscent of my time spent in the Tal'Shiar and I have concerns that I will be tempted to my old ways.  That lies and subterfuge will become my norm once more... "  Admitting such wasn't easy.

Benjin's return to the table and query to Tess about going on the mission interrupted and overlapped his own quiet answer at just the right moment and Rayek was grateful for it - maybe the topic would be dropped and he could just pretend he'd never mentioned it.

"If it eases your mind some, you do know I would look after him." he commented in an attempt to help Benjin's case.

Lt. Cmdr. Rayek tr'Lhoell
[Katra Station - Deck 2 - Security Chief's office - morning of day 4, after the transfer of command ceremony]

Cmdr. Tess t'Lhoell (7 months pregnant)
[Katra Station - Deck 2 - Security Chief's office - morning of day 4, after the transfer of command ceremony]

As soon as she felt Rayek holding her gently, Tess didn't hold back and sobbed quietly at his shoulder while she listened to his comforting words. It was only a short bout and she soon was able to collect herself enough. She nodded when he asked her to promise that she would look after herself. "I will, I promise." She pulled back, wiping the tears from her face with the back of her hand. "You take care, please. If you find the time to call or drop me a line, I'll be happy." Her hand came down to rest on her baby belly. "We both will be waiting for your return."

Rayek held Tess comfortingly as she sobbed.  His own eyes threatened to spill over but he managed to blink the tears back.   He was relieved at her promise to take care of herself and nodded at her request to contact her.   "I will do so as often as possible, e'lev."

He placed a hand atop of hers on her belly, silently willing his son to give some sign or movement.  A farewell. "Remind your mother to take plenty of pictures of your progress for the next few weeks."

His hand afterwards lifted to wipe away the tear stains from her cheeks.  "I-jol au, Tess. Diamn." (*I love you, Tess.  Always.)

"Now, you said the Captain was in a Klingon uniform?" he questioned looking down to his standard Starfleet uniform.

Rayek Sogh
[IKS Lod Qan - Bridge - mid-morning of Day 4]

IKS Lod Qan - Bridge

K'mpoc came up behind Hrafn, and laid a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"Do not trouble our HoD with such matters, Hrafn lagh.  It is my task to instruct you, and to be sure you understand every aspect of your duty."

He looked to Zex as she chimed in, "If there is anything you wish to know, you will ask me."

"And so," Solluk declared, "if anyone on the crew does not know their duty, or the custom of the moment, you shall be responsible."

K'mpoc turned to regard his Captain.  He nodded once, "As it should be," he answered.

After the singing, Rayek settled into learning his position more fully.   Unfortunately the Klingons were not big on writing out job descriptions or expectations.  While he did this, Hrafn and Zex asked about a cultural exchange 'training'... but Rayek doubted that happened.

In his experience, Klingons themselves learned mostly through trial by fire.  Just getting thrown into the task.  K'mpoc's statement that it would him that they should turn to with their questions, was answered with a slight exhale of air.  Rayek didn't see himself asking anything of the Klingon.  Admitting to ignorance was not something the Romulan would do with the Klingon.

Rayek studied the ships armaments, crew roster - especially that of the tactical department. This occupied him for most of the first day.   He was surprised to receive an invitation to dinner from the Captai... the HoD but promptly RSVP'd his attendance.

Rayek Sogh
[IKS Lod Qan - Mess Hall - evening of Day 4]

IKS Lod Qan - Mess Hall

Solluk had not realized that sending an invitation to dinner was an oddity on a Klingon ship until K'mpoc had informed him.  Apparently, it was usual for officers to feast together, and if the Captain wanted someone in particular at the table, he would simply holler at them to 'Join Me!'

Nontheless, Solluk had sent an invitation.  He had even asked Zex to invite the Tholians, although it seemed unlikely they would have any interest in the fare.  Perhaps, though, they would enjoy the conversation.

K'mpoc was already here when Solluk arrived.  He was serving himself a heaping plate of gagh from a large serving dish on the table.  Solluk took a plate and stepped up beside him, scooping the wriggly creatures onto his own plate.  Although this mission would ultimately involve going against KDF orders, sneaking through Gregari-controlled space, and trying to rescue a wounded Crystalline Entity...

... it was the food that felt most harrowing to Solluk.

"Do you think the Tholians will come," K'mpoc asked as he took a seat to the right hand of Solluk's, "I do not think any Tholian has ever before boarded a Klingon warship."

Solluk sat as well, wishing he had a fork.  Klingons, it seemed, mostly ate with their fingers.  "Surely this wouldn't be the first time.  Haven't Klingons ever clashed with Tholians?"

K'mpoc lifted a handful of the wormlike creatures to his mouth, slurping them in and chewing them like pasta.  When he had swallowed, he nodded, "Some minor skirmishes, as the Empire thought to expand its borders into Tholian space.  The engagements ended in much glory... but little victory.  Perhaps some Tholians have boarded Klingon ships before... but no witness survived to write a song about it.

We would have defeated them in war, had hostilities been pressed.  But other concerns surfaced, and the Chancellor of the time elected not to pursue the matter.  Since then, we have respected the borders of the Assembly.  I suppose our dead warriors must have made an impression, at least, for the Tholians have respected our borders as well.  There has been little contact since that time."

"Perhaps this is an opportunity to change that relationship for the better," Solluk suggested.

"Perhaps," K'mpoc said, then nodded at Solluk, "But that will go as easily as your gagh will go down your throat."

Solluk eyed K'mpoc for a moment, then grasped a handful of the gagh and nearly swallowed it un-chewed.

To his credit, he managed not to choke.

Rayek arrived just prior to the specified time and found Solluk and K'mpoc both already present, but more notable than that was that he found them both already seated and eating the live gagh with their hands.

Rayek approached and took the seat on the opposite side of the Captain from K'mpoc. "Good evening, HoD, la'.  The gagh looks fresh."

After having spent time in a Romulan mining penal colony, Rayek had lost his squeamishness of eating live food.  Though the gagh was larger than the maggots fed him in Faicol lhui, he doubted these were grown and harvested off the ship's dead, which made them much more palatable than anything he ate in prison.

Since he knew this was meant to be a cultural exchange, Rayek figured it was only respectful to partake of the traditional foods provided.  He also figured the la' would be looking to give a hard time to those that avoided the gagh, so served himself up a portion.   Unlike K'mpoc and Solluk, he didn't eat it by the handful.  He wasn't Klingon, nor would he eat like one.  Instead, he chose to show some dignity and picked up one worm, placed it to his lips and then slurped it up - much like a thick Italian fettuccine noodle.  Though in all honesty, he preferred the taste of fettuccine to that of the gagh.

[Hrafn Falleg]

[Bridge - IKS Lod Qan]

Zex saw Hrafn swivel in her chair and face the Captain.  The CSO make a good point and had a good idea.  She wondered how the Captain would respond.

If there was going to be a crash course, as Hrafn, had suggested Zex definitely wanted to take part in it.  If not, they would just have to learn by watching.  Which sometimes lead to mis-steps.

Culturally speaking, though, the best way to learn about another culture was to immerse oneself in in.  Live among the natives as it were.  Speak their language.

She turned in her seat.  "And if you can teach us relevant Klingon words, that would help us too.  Captain, sir" she suggested.

IKS Lod Qan - Bridge

K'mpoc came up behind Hrafn, and laid a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"Do not trouble our HoD with such matters, Hrafn lagh.  It is my task to instruct you, and to be sure you understand every aspect of your duty."

He looked to Zex as she chimed in, "If there is anything you wish to know, you will ask me."

"And so," Solluk declared, "if anyone on the crew does not know their duty, or the custom of the moment, you shall be responsible."

K'mpoc turned to regard his Captain.  He nodded once, "As it should be," he answered.

[Bridge - IKS Lod Qan]

Hrafn felt the heavy but not unkindly hand on her shoulder.  She looked up and smiled, although she wasn't sure if such a gesture would be lost on the Klingon warrior.

"That is perfect for this voyage, but what about with other species, later.  But you could answer one question for me.  What is the significance of the song, is it just to.... rally the troops or something.  It was certainly rousing.  And I'm sure that we shall all learn a great many things about Klingons on this trip, rather than assumptions that some of us might have made over time." the CSO said diplomatically.

[Tess tLhoell]

Lt. Cmdr. Tess t'Lhoell (7 months pregnant)
NPC Lt. Fabiano Moreno and NPC Cadet Benjin Moreno

[Katra Station - Deck 2 - s'Lhoell quarters - evening of day 2]

Lt. Cmdr. Rayek tr'Lhoell
[Katra Station - Deck 2 - s'Lhoell quarters - evening of day 2]

With Tess' comment about his usual interest in intel, Rayek wondered if it was she who had pushed for his placement as SOO.  He hoped not.  He hated to disappoint her with his apparent ungratefulness.

"You are correct in that I do prefer to be well-informed," Rayek agreed looking to Tess specifically.  His next words however he spoke quieter, "but while I know I am fully capable of the position, there are aspects of it that are far too reminiscent of my time spent in the Tal'Shiar and I have concerns that I will be tempted to my old ways.  That lies and subterfuge will become my norm once more... "  Admitting such wasn't easy.

Benjin's return to the table and query to Tess about going on the mission interrupted and overlapped his own quiet answer at just the right moment and Rayek was grateful for it - maybe the topic would be dropped and he could just pretend he'd never mentioned it.

"If it eases your mind some, you do know I would look after him." he commented in an attempt to help Benjin's case.

Rayek's reasoning why he didn't like his position as SOO was, although surprising at first, understandable for her. She had been fallen victim to his lies only once, right at the beginning of her service on the station as a mere crewman, when he had tried to hide his bout from her and that he had been in her thoughts. What had followed then had been a demonstration of subtle threatening and intimidation, an ability that surely had been useful in the Tal'Shiar. So to Tess, this information wasn't new. But it was for the rest of her family.

While Benjin stared wide-eyed at Rayek, a clear expression of surprise, his father's face had become very serious as he looked at his son-in-law. Benjin recalled when he first arrived on the station and Rayek, Tess and he had been out to eat, Rayek had been quite reluctant to share details of his past. Now he knew, why.

Fabiano regarded Rayek. He didn't know much about the Tal'Shiar, but it was enough to know that it surely wasn't common to just 'quit' an organization like the Tal'Shiar. And that the practices of said organization were ruthless. Maybe Fabiano had been a fool to believe that while he had not have much information about Rayek's time before joining Starfleet to think that there was nothing important he had missed there. That made Rayek probably the worst kind of defector the Romulans could think of. At least it seemed Rayek had no desire to go back to those practices. But still, the news about his daughter's husband weren't pleasant ones.

"Tal'Shiar?!", Benjin finally spoke, pulling his leg off the armrest to place both his feet on the floor and - leaning forward - resting his elbows on his thighs as he looked Rayek. "That's ... heavy!"

Tess looked back to Rayek, her hand that was still in his, squeezing it gently. She couldn't imagine Rayek would drop such an information about himself just like that if he had wanted her family to know. Which made her think that it probably slipped accidentially from his lips - that again was rather untypically for Rayek, but maybe showed that he felt safe with her family and not the need to be constantly alert. That made her happy, but she knew that Rayek probably felt rather uncomfortable now.

"Yes, but those times are over", Tess said to Benjin, before looking back to Rayek, trying to help him out a little bit.

Fabiano's gaze fell down briefly to rest on the table, as he shook his head slightly, more to himself as he quietly said, "Of course I lack to know the details, but from everything that I heard about that organization, it can't be really over when you're not in prison or dead." It was clearly Fabiano's concern for his daughter and Rayek that made him say that, not that he had any suspicions towards his son-in-law.

Cmdr. Tess t'Lhoell (7 months pregnant)
[Katra Station - Deck 2 - Security Chief's office - morning of day 4, after the transfer of command ceremony]

Lt. Cmdr. Rayek tr'Lhoell
[Katra Station - Deck 2 - Security Chief's office - morning of day 4, after the transfer of command ceremony]

Rayek held Tess comfortingly as she sobbed.  His own eyes threatened to spill over but he managed to blink the tears back.   He was relieved at her promise to take care of herself and nodded at her request to contact her.   "I will do so as often as possible, e'lev."

He placed a hand atop of hers on her belly, silently willing his son to give some sign or movement.  A farewell. "Remind your mother to take plenty of pictures of your progress for the next few weeks."

His hand afterwards lifted to wipe away the tear stains from her cheeks.  "I-jol au, Tess. Diamn." (*I love you, Tess.  Always.)

"Now, you said the Captain was in a Klingon uniform?" he questioned looking down to his standard Starfleet uniform.

Tess looked down at Rayek's larger hand that covered hers on her pregnant belly and smiled as he talked to their son through the womb. By now she felt the child's movements almost every day, but unfortunately right now he couldn't be convinced to move. "I will send you pics every day", she promised.

Lifting her gaze up to look at Rayek, she leaned slightly into his touch as he wiped the trances of her tears away. "I-jol au, ciccino."

At his question, Tess nodded as a smile started to form on her lips. "Indeed. It suited him well." She grinned as she looked at him curiously. "Thinking about changing attire for the mission?"

Ensign Raiden A. Darrow
[Katra Station - Deck 22 - Sickbay/Morgue - Day 4]

Finally, finding his way there, Wessex came in to the outer office and looked about. "I'm looking for an Ensign Darrow" he asked, collaring one of the team passing by.

Crewman Talana was about to head back to the reception desk, when suddenly a Human junior security officer stopped her and asked for Ensign Darrow. Talana eyed Paul for a moment curiously - after all from what she knew there could be various reasons why a security officer was looking for him.

Turning around she gestured to the right. "Through that door, you will head directly towards the dispensary. In the right corner there's another door where you get to a small corridor. At the end of it, there's a door to the right to the morgue - there you can find Ensign Darrow pretty much twenty-six hours a day." Talana smiled brightly at him.

.
.
.

Raiden's tall and slender frame stood in front of the work station, his back to the door. His finger flew over the touch screen at the wall as he called up the results of his anayses and slowly the pieces of the puzzle started to combine themselves to a full picture.

"Here, your coffee."

Melanie's soft voice drew him away from his brooding. Turning his head to glance towards her, he accepted the mug of steaming coffee from her. He had already turned his attention away from her again when a detail caught his attention. "What happened to your lipstick?"

Melanie froze, caught, her eyes going wide. "Uh- .. what?"

"You've been wearing lipstick before you went to get coffee."

Her gaze dropped as she fiddled with her hands. "Didn't work for me", she said quietly.

Raiden wriggled his head in contemplation. "I wouldn't say that."

Melanie looked up at him, wide-eyed. "You think so?", she asked hopefully, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Yes. Your lips look too small now." He grimaced before taking a sip of his coffee.

[L'mar Camili Rhade]

[ Ensign L'mar Rhade ] | [ Trialus Starlifter ] - Day 4

"When are you coming back? I'm going crazy without you here." Rune said, blinked then he made an embarrassed smile. "I mean you help us all keep the peace." That seemed to make Rune relax.

Did Rune like him. Rhade wondered as he eyed the Damage Control specialist for a few moments and he saw that Rune was slight nervous under the stare. "I'll be back soon Rrrune," L'mar said then paused. "Why what has happened?"

"Apart from the bantering we do in amongst ourselves, now we have to deal with Klingons. I swear they are up to something." Rune said unsettled.

Rhade frowned, while he had his own concerns about allowing the Klingons to be active members of staff on a Starfleet station. He was forced to believe that Starfleet knew what they were doing and that Captain Solluk had correctly placed trust into these Klingons. "Of courrrse you and the otherrrs arrre watching, rrrecording and double checking whateverrr the Klingons arrre doing?" L'mar asked.

Rune nodded.

"Then that's all we can do until something actually happens." L'mar said, he wasn't happy about it. "I will be back soon, unless orrrderrred to by Commanderrr t'Lhoell, Rrrhade out." He smiled before they signed off.

"Now now, let's not create anything that isn't there unless you can find proof." Brian said, but he smiled.

"You know me, but not everrryone believes in the peace with the Empirrre. Eventually they'd get sick of peace and warrr will begin again." L'mar stated, "they arrre a warrrriorrr species afterrr all and rrrequirrre battle to feel alive."

Brian eyed the Felinoid. "Is that some Caitian insight?"

Rhade nodded. "We werrre like them once." L'mar recalled his mother's stories of the clan wars and battles that have managed to live on in the few surviving historical records.

He wondered what his parents were doing nowadays, they hadn't had a subspace chat in a while.

[ Main Engineering - Hours Later ] | [ Katra Station ]

"Ah very nice!" Valerian Magnus Rhade said as he entered, his arm being held onto by a female Caitian who wore a very provocative singer's outfit that showed off her curves, though maintained modesty. The aging human man looked around for a certain individual he and his wife Pa'jem had come to visit, only not to be found at all.

Jem purred then huffed a sigh of disappointment. "Well thisss isss what happensss when we don't give him any prrrewarrrning to ourrr arrrival dearrr." Jem said after the two were about to turn and leave.

"Hello, I'm Chief Petty Officer Rune Noir, Damage Control specialist, may I assist you?" The young Trill asked as he approached the elder couple.

"Damage Control you say son, a worthy profession and very important. I was once in D.C. before I transferred to Utopia Planitia." Valerian said as he began to ramble on.

Jem purred as she rolled her eyes. "We ssseek my ssson, Camili." Jem stated.

"His name is L'mar sweetie." Valerian countered. This seemed to be a regular argument between them by the glaring that began between them, though it was mixed with love. "You agreed to it when we named him and I allowed his middle name to be Cam." Valerian turned to Rune as Calabrass and Valak approached as well.

"Welcome to Katra Station, Mr and Mrs Rhade." Valak greeted with the typical Vulcan hand sign.

Calabrass blinked a few times, then smiled. It was going to be interesting to see how the Rhade family interacted and he hoped that it would be in front of the specialists. "Indeed welcome to Katra Station and the Gamma quadrant, Mr and Mrs Rhade. Was your journey pleasant?" The Coridanite asked as he offered his hand to Valerian first then to Pa'jem.

Rune followed suit after learning who they were. "Ensign Rhade is on the Trialus Starlifter sir," the Trill answered and wondered which of them should go to tell their superior the good news.

A black cat appeared to Pa'jem's other side and meowed loudly.

"This is Maximillian." Valerian said as he gestured to the cat.

The cat meowed again but facing the specialists as they immediately gathered around Max, though carefully and offered their hands. Max looked between them all enjoying the attention.

Valerian grunted with annoyance. "Chief Noir, could you give me a tour?"

Rune grinned as Morgan joined them and greeted the couple, Rune informed him who they were and that's when Morgan volunteered to go tell Rhade the good news. Well in the specialists' eyes it was good news.

"Of course sir," Rune replied and watched as Morgan made his way into the Engineer's Knook to hail the Starlifter before guiding Valerian around the Engineering rooms.

[Kirok]

[Bridge - IKS Lod Qan]

After K'mpoc spoke, Zex turned back around in her seat.  It was comforting that Solluk had tired to 'defend' her and Falleg's ideas.  Ultimately, though, K'mpoc seemed to have gotten his way.

Or so it seemed before Falleg replied.  Zex was curious to see how that turned out.  So she leaned back a bit.

All the while listing to the comm channels.  There were hisses and white noise.  But nothing for her to concern herself with.

[Solluk]

IKS Lod Qan - Bridge

K'mpoc shook his head, "If you were Klingon, and could feel the fire in your blood, you would not feel the need to ask.  You would not need to be told.  Such a thing... it is like explaining the heat of the blazing desert to a Jackal Mastiff on Rura Penthe, a creature who has never experienced anything but ice and snow."

He seemed momentarily caught between an expression of disgust and disappointment, but then his face hardened instead into a look of resolve.  If anyone could explain heat to someone who has only known cold, then he decided it would be him.

"The song is as a trident.  It pierces a warrior with multiple prongs.  First, the mere act of singing creates cohesion among warriors.  It unfolds at the beginning of any great and worthy endeavor, and begins the process of teamwork.  Many individuals lending voices and rhythm to a song is the first act of many warriors working together for a united goal.  If you can sing together, you can fight together.

Second, it fires the blood in anticipation of the glory that shall be sought.  Dreams of Blood and Conquest.  Imagery of Passion evoked in the mind.  High achievement stoked in the heart.  One cannot hear such words without dreaming of battle and glory.

And Third, it reminds us of the Spiritual reward that awaits us if we do our duty well:  To transcend this life and enter Sto'vo'kor, our paradise where a warrior need never lay down their sword again.  There, we enjoy eternal battle among the best warriors the universe has ever seen.  It is a brotherhood and sisterhood beyond mortal reckoning, where every man and woman is a proven hero or heroine, and dishonor is no longer a part of the universe.

That is what it is to be Klingon.  That is what the song means to us.  And that is why we sing."

IKS Lod Qan - Training Hall

"We have a disruptor range for marksmanship," Kost replied, " But Holodecks did not come into widespread use in the Klingon Defense Force until the Vor'cha class.  You will find none on the Lod Qan.  Not any more than you would find one on an old Constitution Class cruiser."

He paused, considering Kal's other question.

"Fighting while blind?  That is something few can do.  The best one can hope for while blind, is to die well."

A few of the warriors in the group chuckled at the notion that a competent defense might be possible without being able to see.

IKS Lod Qan - Mess Hall

Solluk looked up as his friend and Second Officer entered the mess hall and served himself.

"Fresher than I am usually comfortable with," Solluk admitted, "I was a vegetarian before entering Starfleet.  I suppose I have traveled a long road since then."

He had boldly swallowed a large quantity of the creatures a moment ago, but now looked at the remainder of his plate with some trepidation.  Rising up for a moment to prove a point was one thing.  Cleaning his plate was quite another.

K'mpoc laughed, seemingly enjoying his Captain's discomfort... and perhaps also that he had risen above it.  Then he turned his attention to the Romulan.  "How do you find the tactical capabilities of the Lod Qan, Rayek sogh," he asked.

Solluk looked to see what Rayek would say, curious about that himself.

Katra Station - Station Commander's Ready Room

"Your mother is well," Noh'ves assured her.  "In fact, she will be coming to the Gamma quadrant soon..."

He seemed to wrestle inwardly for a moment.  Perhaps not so dissimilar to his daughter.

Finally, he just decided to get it all out.  "We are leaving the Empire.  Our family.  And all of House Voch.  The House has been friendly with the reformists for some time.  But during my recent... dishonor... we were approached by them and made an offer.  An offer I have decided to accept.  The Empire is not ready for a new way, and will not be for generations.  But that doesn't mean reform must wait.

We are one of several Houses who believe the time is right to strike out on our own, and form a new nation.  The planet your Captain will be scanning... it is not for an Imperial colony.  It is for the new Klingon Republic."

He held up a hand, "I know, I know.  History tells us that the previous attempt at letting the people choose who represents them on the High Council was... a Dark Time.  But we have learned much since then.  Not the least of which is this:  If you are going to attempt reform, you must do it apart from conservatives.  Some degree of isolation and voluntary participation is required for a novel way of living to take hold."

Lowering his hand, he looked into her eyes.  "But you... you must make a choice, Beja.  If you contact the High Council on Qonos and denounce the leaders of House Voch as traitors, warning them of this conspiracy, it is likely that a special dispensation may be granted for you to take control of the House resources on our Homeworld, which would likely then become the House of Beja.  You can possibly avoid discommendation in this way, retaining your honor, properties, and reputation.  There are Houses on the High Council who owe us debts.  They could apply political pressure to see that you do not pay for my crimes.  But you would never be allowed to see me or have dealings with anyone of the Republic.

Or...

You could join the Republic as part of House Voch.  You will doubtless suffer the effects of discommendation.  All of our holdings on Qonos will be seized by the state.  And our family shall be hated for generations.  It will not take long for the Chancellor to make it known that he wishes everyone involved in the Republic dead.  Your life as a Klingon will never be the same, and you will never be safe."

[Don Damien Addams]

IKS Lod Qan - Training Hall

"We have a disruptor range for marksmanship," Kost replied, " But Holodecks did not come into widespread use in the Klingon Defense Force until the Vor'cha class.  You will find none on the Lod Qan.  Not any more than you would find one on an old Constitution Class cruiser."

He paused, considering Kal's other question.

"Fighting while blind?  That is something few can do.  The best one can hope for while blind, is to die well."

A few of the warriors in the group chuckled at the notion that a competent defense might be possible without being able to see.

Kal squinted his eyes at awesome warriors before him. "Oh one dies well," he paused. "Klingon warriors fear nothing."

"As an addition to this crew. My fighting styles are not known. I'll fight my way up to you, Kost bu. To give each warrior a chance to fight me," he shared. Truth was he was going to get his behind beat up. "I save you for last, hahahaha"

The Klingons are a close nit group. There far from like Borgs but they are like the Borg. They fight together. Which makes them fierce in numbers. They know each fight skills. They could fight back to back knowing what the other will do. It was like a awesome working war machine warriors.

Deep down, Kal know he was not capable to handle the stress fighting one after another. These warriors are training. They are not killing each other. That mean he won't be killed off if he failed. Unless a mishap happened. That would turn out to fix as a combat and die in honor. He could see these stock up warriors are like brothers and sisters.

"What do you think, Kost bu?" he asked. "Or I fight you first?" he chuckled. Dumb thing to say, but he would go for it.

They could start this train in fighting, exercises with them so what they do, target practice and drink. Yes. Drinking he would need. There going to be much pain for him in this mission. Each pain would be a badge of honor.

It was his dream too. Here he was on a Klingon old ship. A very old ship too. He was not sure how they keep her together. The resources pulling must be huge achievement. There Engineer had to be one of the best Engineers of all time.

No medical staff. Klingon don't need that. They took the wounds of pain as a sleepy child holding his cover close. It would be worth it.

[Rayek trLhoell]

Lt. Cmdr. Rayek tr'Lhoell
[Katra Station - Deck 2 - s'Lhoell quarters - evening of day 2]

Lt. Cmdr. Tess t'Lhoell (7 months pregnant)
NPC Lt. Fabiano Moreno and NPC Cadet Benjin Moreno

[Katra Station - Deck 2 - s'Lhoell quarters - evening of day 2]

Rayek's reasoning why he didn't like his position as SOO was, although surprising at first, understandable for her. She had been fallen victim to his lies only once, right at the beginning of her service on the station as a mere crewman, when he had tried to hide his bout from her and that he had been in her thoughts. What had followed then had been a demonstration of subtle threatening and intimidation, an ability that surely had been useful in the Tal'Shiar. So to Tess, this information wasn't new. But it was for the rest of her family.

While Benjin stared wide-eyed at Rayek, a clear expression of surprise, his father's face had become very serious as he looked at his son-in-law. Benjin recalled when he first arrived on the station and Rayek, Tess and he had been out to eat, Rayek had been quite reluctant to share details of his past. Now he knew, why.

Fabiano regarded Rayek. He didn't know much about the Tal'Shiar, but it was enough to know that it surely wasn't common to just 'quit' an organization like the Tal'Shiar. And that the practices of said organization were ruthless. Maybe Fabiano had been a fool to believe that while he had not have much information about Rayek's time before joining Starfleet to think that there was nothing important he had missed there. That made Rayek probably the worst kind of defector the Romulans could think of. At least it seemed Rayek had no desire to go back to those practices. But still, the news about his daughter's husband weren't pleasant ones.

"Tal'Shiar?!", Benjin finally spoke, pulling his leg off the armrest to place both his feet on the floor and - leaning forward - resting his elbows on his thighs as he looked Rayek. "That's ... heavy!"

Tess looked back to Rayek, her hand that was still in his, squeezing it gently. She couldn't imagine Rayek would drop such an information about himself just like that if he had wanted her family to know. Which made her think that it probably slipped accidentally from his lips - that again was rather untypically for Rayek, but maybe showed that he felt safe with her family and not the need to be constantly alert. That made her happy, but she knew that Rayek probably felt rather uncomfortable now.

"Yes, but those times are over", Tess said to Benjin, before looking back to Rayek, trying to help him out a little bit.

Fabiano's gaze fell down briefly to rest on the table, as he shook his head slightly, more to himself as he quietly said, "Of course I lack to know the details, but from everything that I heard about that organization, it can't be really over when you're not in prison or dead." It was clearly Fabiano's concern for his daughter and Rayek that made him say that, not that he had any suspicions towards his son-in-law.

It took a moment for Rayek to recognize his error.  He'd intended to tell all to Fabiano and Benjin his entire past prior to the wedding, once he had gotten to know them better.  But despite the feeling of closeness, Rayek had put off doing so long that he'd just assumed he'd already done so.

Before the Romulan could formulate the words to answer Benjin, Tess answered for him.  Her supportive hand squeeze let him know that she wasn't upset at him for his opinion about his position.  However, it was Fabiano's comment back that Rayek needed to respond to.

"You are entirely correct and it is in part for that reason many find me paranoid.  I have good reason to be alert and wary, suspicious of things that I have not vetted.  I know quite well what my former peers are capable of."

In a way it felt freeing to speak of this finally.  He had come to respect Tess' adoptive father, and he found Benjin to be trustworthy.  He was proud to call them both family... it was long overdue to come clean about his past with them.  Which meant one more thing to divulge.

"I had meant to tell you of this aspect of my past before the actual wedding but perhaps allowed myself to put it off too long as it is not an easy subject to broach.  I hope it does not overcast how you perceive me.  Though I suppose I should speak everything before I ask for your understanding."

Rayek glanced to Tess for a smile of encouragement.  He turned back towards Fabiano, and then Benjin before glancing down to Tess' hand clasped in his.   When he looked back up he spoke.

"Other than being a Major in the Tal'Shiar prior to my imprisonment - which I do recall mentioning to you both, I also possess limited telepathic abilities."

Rayek sogh
[IKS Lod Qan - Bridge]

IKS Lod Qan - Bridge

K'mpoc shook his head, "If you were Klingon, and could feel the fire in your blood, you would not feel the need to ask.  You would not need to be told.  Such a thing... it is like explaining the heat of the blazing desert to a Jackal Mastiff on Rura Penthe, a creature who has never experienced anything but ice and snow."

He seemed momentarily caught between an expression of disgust and disappointment, but then his face hardened instead into a look of resolve.  If anyone could explain heat to someone who has only known cold, then he decided it would be him.

"The song is as a trident.  It pierces a warrior with multiple prongs.  First, the mere act of singing creates cohesion among warriors.  It unfolds at the beginning of any great and worthy endeavor, and begins the process of teamwork.  Many individuals lending voices and rhythm to a song is the first act of many warriors working together for a united goal.  If you can sing together, you can fight together.

Second, it fires the blood in anticipation of the glory that shall be sought.  Dreams of Blood and Conquest.  Imagery of Passion evoked in the mind.  High achievement stoked in the heart.  One cannot hear such words without dreaming of battle and glory.

And Third, it reminds us of the Spiritual reward that awaits us if we do our duty well:  To transcend this life and enter Sto'vo'kor, our paradise where a warrior need never lay down their sword again.  There, we enjoy eternal battle among the best warriors the universe has ever seen.  It is a brotherhood and sisterhood beyond mortal reckoning, where every man and woman is a proven hero or heroine, and dishonor is no longer a part of the universe.

That is what it is to be Klingon.  That is what the song means to us.  And that is why we sing."

K'mpoc's explanation was rather meaningful.  Rayek found himself pondering the similarities and differences between the Klingons' and his own people's philosophies on teamwork.

Rayek sogh
[IKS Lod Qan - Mess Hall]

IKS Lod Qan - Mess Hall

Solluk looked up as his friend and Second Officer entered the mess hall and served himself.

"Fresher than I am usually comfortable with," Solluk admitted, "I was a vegetarian before entering Starfleet.  I suppose I have traveled a long road since then."

He had boldly swallowed a large quantity of the creatures a moment ago, but now looked at the remainder of his plate with some trepidation.  Rising up for a moment to prove a point was one thing.  Cleaning his plate was quite another.

K'mpoc laughed, seemingly enjoying his Captain's discomfort... and perhaps also that he had risen above it.  Then he turned his attention to the Romulan.  "How do you find the tactical capabilities of the Lod Qan, Rayek sogh," he asked.

Solluk looked to see what Rayek would say, curious about that himself.

Rayek knew that for this mission that K'mpoc was considered his superior and that Klingon's loved to test one another for weakness that however didn't stop him from finding the Klingon's laughter at the Captain's obvious discomfort at all unacceptable.  According to Rayek's notion now, a Second-in-Command was supposed to support his Captain not look for ways to undermine him.  But Klingons much, like Romulans, looked for weakness to exploit nor shore up.  It was a huge difference in philosophy between the warrior-based Klingon or even Romulan forces versus the Federation and Starfleet.  However, as the Captain, or rather HoD, didn't seem bothered by the laughter, Rayek tamped his annoyed reaction and tried to let it go for the moment.

When K'mpoc then turned to him and asked about the tactical systems Rayek hesitated.  Speaking ill of one's ship, he didn't imagine went over very well, but there was very little positive to speak of... certainly not in comparison to the Healy or Challenger.

Rayek looked to the ranking Klingon officer as he answered. "I'm certain in his day the tactical of the D7 class was considered top of the line, but at present I am a baffled by a tactical system that doesn't include any rear-facing armaments.  While I understand that the preference is to face a foe honorably, the reality is that any enemy, not Klingon themselves, will exploit this weakness to their advantage.  But I am working on plans that will help alleviate this.  But I am hoping the cloak doesn't fail us and my skill in tactical planning won't be needed."

After saying this, Rayek lifted another single gagh-worm and slurped it down before turning to point out something to the Captain. "As I recall there is a very palatable vegan sidedish, gladst, that you may find more to your liking than gagh, my HoD."

[Paul Wessex]

[Katra Station - Deck 22 - Sickbay/Morgue - Day 4]

Ensign Raiden A. Darrow

Crewman Talana was about to head back to the reception desk, when suddenly a Human junior security officer stopped her and asked for Ensign Darrow. Talana eyed Paul for a moment curiously - after all from what she knew there could be various reasons why a security officer was looking for him.

Turning around she gestured to the right. "Through that door, you will head directly towards the dispensary. In the right corner there's another door where you get to a small corridor. At the end of it, there's a door to the right to the morgue - there you can find Ensign Darrow pretty much twenty-six hours a day." Talana smiled brightly at him.
Raiden's tall and slender frame stood in front of the work station, his back to the door. His finger flew over the touch screen at the wall as he called up the results of his anayses and slowly the pieces of the puzzle started to combine themselves to a full picture.

"Here, your coffee."

Melanie's soft voice drew him away from his brooding. Turning his head to glance towards her, he accepted the mug of steaming coffee from her. He had already turned his attention away from her again when a detail caught his attention. "What happened to your lipstick?"

Melanie froze, caught, her eyes going wide. "Uh- .. what?"

"You've been wearing lipstick before you went to get coffee."

Her gaze dropped as she fiddled with her hands. "Didn't work for me", she said quietly.

Raiden wriggled his head in contemplation. "I wouldn't say that."

Melanie looked up at him, wide-eyed. "You think so?", she asked hopefully, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Yes. Your lips look too small now." He grimaced before taking a sip of his coffee.

Flashing an appreciative smile in return to the Andorian Crewman - still baffled as to why StarFleet opted not to display names on uniforms unlike the Federation Naval Patrol - Paul thanked her and followed her directions to the 'inner sanctum' that this almost mythical room-mate, and now useful contact, resided for the better part of the station's chronology. Knowing this, it didn't surprise Wessex that he hadn't met Ensign Raiden Darrow until now.

Nearing the door, he kept a jolt of surprise caged as another crew-member of the Medical Department suddenly swept out, looking a little - gleaned from bitter life experiences - upset but trying not to look it. She flicked her eyes up at him and then back down to the floor as she passed, natural curiosity overriding some need to be left alone to her thoughts. Paul frowned as he watched her disappear the way he had come - perhaps there was a body in there that was particularly distressing - before entering the chamber.

In the middle of room, back to him and fingers fidgeting in the air, stood a tall, thin man in the standard medical teal lab coat over what Paul imagined was the standard StarFleet uniform beneath. The man hair hair that was a little unkempt from the angle displayed. Inching further in, the security officer took the opportunity to glance about, and concluded, quite reasonably, this was Darrow. What he also noted was the lack of the aforementioned distressing cadaver the crewman had seemingly left behind. "Ensign Darrow?" he called out, not wanting to interrupt some kind of conducting to music he couldn't hear; although, if this was being fed by ear-coms, Paul would need to approach and tap Darrow on the shoulder. While he wasn't an impatient man, the report on the Nausciaan's cause of death would be useful to start knitting some facts together.