KVorlag

K'Vorlag left the conference room, bound for the small B'Rel-class scout IKS Kij'pah docked with the station. They had learned nothing in the previous hour. Drankum had repeated his official statement and had been given little room to say much else. For all the grandeur of the Diplomatic Hub, there had been little diplomacy in evidence. It was clear to him now. The Federation and the Cardassians seemed incapable of treating the Ferengi with honor. They had merely traded threats over who had the bigger fleets, demanded the other side see things completely from their point of view, and made no attempt to discover the deeper causes. His own attempts had been equally futile. He could understand the Ferengi's consternation. The Federation had acted to move the station without even waiting for their response. If the Klingons had been delinquent in a response, would they have done the same? Unlikely. They would have feared political strain or outright military reprisal. But had they done likewise with the Ferengi? Clearly, they had feared neither. Worse, it was clear the Federation, Cardassians, and now the Romulans didn't care about the Ferengi objection or their foolhearted willingness to assert their treaty rights - economically and even militarily. The allies ignored that willingness itself showed something important. So much for mutual understanding: it had become a matter of honor. Stepping out of the lift, he snorted in irony. The other allies were acting like their worst imagined characatures of Klingons. He would have no part in it. He passed through the connection to his ship and ordered it sealed behind him. The Empire could decide what it wanted, but he would not be baited into a senseless battle without knowing what he fought for. Klingons killed for their own reasons. He could think of only one other option, but it was too distant. He didn't even know if he could make contact in time. If Muon ordered her Starfleet force at the border to close on Aegis now, the Ferengi would fight first, and it would be over before he could stop it. He dropped down into the center seat, waiting to see for whom it would be a good day to die first.

It was a move worthy of the Empire in its post-Organia days. Provocative, but not violent. Who would have thought the Ferengi had such boldness? The Ferengi had declared themselves the only remaining partners in the Aegis mission, effectively surrounding the station. The captain of Sky Harbor Aegis, herself a Ferengi, had invoked "martial law" and a state of emergency. This merely had the effect of bringing them to a typical Klingon readiness level. Not a bad move. They managed to avoid a messy diplomatic incident by not holding Drankum's courier shuttle hostage. The fact that the Ferengi had an "accidental misfire" which had struck nothing still showed that they were willing and able to enforce the immunity of their ambassador. The initial reaction had been strong, with salvos of sternly-worded memos. Cooler heads prevailed, reducing some tension. Bat'leths had rattled, but no declarations of war had gone out. The Ferengi had limited their incursion to pre-defined neutral routes. Starfleet had halted their ships at the border, respecting Cardassian sovereignty. The Ferengi had further agreed to move many of their ships to less-threatening positions, and the deadline had been extended to three days. These were all good, measured developments. Hopefully, the Romulan's promised response would be similarly restrained. He laughed at the thought of depending on that. From what his sources indicated, the Cardassians had made no attempt to stop this convoy of Ferengi marauders at their border. Had they been fooled by flight plans claiming the usual kinds of cargo runs? Or were they complicit in the trolls' move? Certainly the Cardassians would love to see a fracturing of the already strained post-war alliance. He trusted they would prove as shrewd as ever. K'Vorlag grunted at the irony of fighting battles with words. Since he had only a single B'Rel-class scout with a dozen officers and men at his immediate command, he had little else to use. He would make the best of it. He was quite capable of digging a pit with another's words. He tuned into the language of the response Drankum had personally delivered to Muon: - He noticed the Ferengi had not directed the surrender or evacution of any Klingon personnel. Whether this was an oversight or not, it was an opening available to him. - The Ferengi claimed that a majority of partners had withdrawn from the treaty by default. In this, they had leapt to the voiding provisions of Article 24, Section 5 and bypassed the explicit opening statement in Section 1 which defined withdrawal as requiring "at least one year's prior written notice" to the Depositary. There were no provisions for waiver of this requirement. Section 5 itself referred to stipulations being needed in the "written withdrawal notice". At a minimum, the Klingon Empire had provided no such notice. This would be the basis of their rebuttal to the Ferengi, if it came to that. - It left a bitter taste in his mouth that he'd had to point out Article 20, Section 4 regarding "conciliation, mediation or arbitration by a mutually agreed to neutral party". This was the very section he and Ambassador Joy had been debated. He still believed that hopes for a peaceful resolution were meaningless unless both sides agreed that they results would be binding. Subtle nuances and turns of phrase would not address the compelling reasons behind the Ferengi's action. The Ferengi were not going to be convinced by a clever reading of some meaningless fine print. What mattered was what they meant to gain from their action. Anything that didn't address that made no difference. It might yet come to battle. In that event, he would throw aside words and pick up more tangible weapons.

Governor K'Vorlag rubbed both fists against his ridgeplate, trying to get his blood flowing. It was hard to work up battle frenzy to respond to a memo. He took a deep breath and let it out as a growl... His name was on the To: line. He envied the Ferengi troll. His government would not allow him to fire off a short evasive response. It also wouldn't let him speak his mind on those parts where he disagreed with the High Council. No job was easy. It must be conquered. He began speaking his thoughts into the recorder. "Ambassador, I've read your memo and find you've extended bureacratic concepts to parts of the treaty where it just doesn't apply. Peaceful purposes, fine. Directives through civilian command channels? I find no mention of directives at all. I find no mention of civilian command, either. The two words are contradictory in Klingon. In the treaty language I see one mention of "ultimate civil authority" under the section titled Evolution but nothing under Management or Operations to imply civilians will command the station. The Empire would never have signed such a document. In fact, Article 7, Section 2 actually says the UFP, acting through Starfleet Command, shall be responsible for the management. Goal of consensus, fine. A failed goal, but how does one gain consensus with absent partners? Binding arbitration? I see one statement that a concerned Ally may submit an issue for conciliation, mediation or arbitration by a mutually agreed to neutral party. I do not see "binding". Right before that it says "in the hopes of a peaceful resolution" which admits that it cannot be binding except by the choice of the parties. So I dispute half of your opening statements before you begin your argument. It does not get better. It is proper and fitting that a Starfleet officer obey their chain of command. A Klingon would do no less. In the Federation's case, it is even under ultimate civilian authority, which you claim to rever. So how is this a gross violation, much less illegal and criminal? A commander who was forced to yield to the demands of competing parties would rule only chaos. As Kahless said, 'No warrior can serve two masters.' So, to your questions: 1. My orders are to respond "Yes" and "Yes". While I do not personally care about the fate of the cowardly Breen, the High Council disagrees. And we agree that keeping Aegis above Cardassia is a harmful waste. 2. Your phrasing is meant to evoke a reaction. Klingons are not content. We do nothing passive, and we do not yield. We waive nothing. We remain partners in Aegis, even if we are seldom active. And we do not recognize your insertion of civilian command, consensus management, and binding arbitration, as noted. 3. I have seen nothing to indicate non-peaceful use. And I doubt the station will keep moving around. We do not see command procedures being stressed, especially since we do not recognize your assertion of unanimous consensus or binding arbitration. 4. The Klingon Empire has expressed no interest in additional changes to the Aegis Treaty, but it does accept the Federation proposal regarding the station removal from Cardassia. We would not be opposed to consider other alterations. It is clear you do not share the same vision of Aegis that I do. That is not merely a Klingon to android difference. It seems our vision differs between people even within our species and our governments. To some it is the last best hope for Cardassia to join your bloody Federation, to me it is a convenient friendly port of call with a good bar. So be it. I do wonder which government has raised the objections to continued operations that you have stressed so often. It has not been the Klingons. It has not been the Cardassians. The Romulans have shown only apathy, while the Ferengi seem concerned but say nothing. I saw the letter from your own President issuing the order to move. Is the Federation so fractured that it cannot support the directives of its own civil authority? While I am aboard, I am at the Empire's service and your call. Respectfully, Governor K'Vorlag, Imperial representative" He sighed and posted the response.

Bah. You're too Federation-centric in your thinking. Why would Klingons care who stands at your station's little operations pedestal? Article 7 is about Management. Ask a Ferengi what that means to them. It means who's in charge. And when the Romulans exercised their option, they put one of their own people as XO of Aegis, not as a subordinate in a Starfleet-defined operations department. The Empire contributed beam weaponry during the initial build. Although some have mentioned Aegis reconstruction, those Klingon disruptors are still there. Klingons like myself have passed through but I don't think any were ever posted on Sky Harbor. Certainly none were department chiefs or command. Maybe Drankum remembers. But the treaty does not require constant contribution. Until the Federation actually notifies the "partner states" that they intend to modify Aegis' object and scope (Article 14, Sections 3 / 4 / 5), what is there for Klingons to participate in? Starfleet is free to talk amongst themselves for their own consensus, but the Federation has ONE vote that weighs equally with the Klingon vote. And you are right, the Empire has withdrawn from nothing. Merely the Klingon warning against unilateral thinking. We may well agree with some future decision to leave Cardassia, but we will speak of it.

As I read Article 7, Section 2 it gives the Federation the prime role for "overall Space Station operational management and coordination... and overall planning for and coordination of the execution of the overall integrated operation". We Klingons, like the Romulans, got a role in "supporting the UFP in performance... including participating in planning". We were also allowed to "maintain an option for placement of assistant senior manager of operations... at [our] discretion." All signatories may be equal, but clearly, some are more equal than others. Starfleet loves their bureacracy - why would the Empire rob them of their sense of self-importance when there are battles to be waged elsewhere? The Empire doesn't see it as a bad treaty, just one we were never interested in expanding. As I have said before, Klingons do not trouble themselves with the fate of their enemies. They sing no songs of heroic nation-builders. But Klingon blood was spilled for this spot in the Cardassian sky, so whatever Aegis' fate, the Empire will have its say in it.

Looks like you need a firm Klingon hand to set things in order and root out these gelatin taskmasters. I look forward to obliging.

IMPERIAL MEMORANDUM TO: Sorehl, Special Commissioner to the Federation Council FROM: K’Vorlag, Governor (Former) RE: Aegis Mission Inquiry The name of Aegis is not spoken in the Great Hall. The songs of the Cardassian defeat end with the warrior Martok drinking bloodwine before the fallen tens of thousands on the steps of their capital. Klingons do not trouble themselves with the fate of their enemies. There are no monuments to glorious occupations. There are no celebrations of heroic nation-builders. Whether the mission of Aegis succeeds or fails, the Klingon Empire knows well that if the Cardassians rise in anger again, we shall simply strike them down. In short, the Klingon Empire has little official interest in the Federation’s continuing presence there. Whatever the Federation claim, the mission of Aegis has been to let Starfleet keep an eye on Cardassia and hope to turn them into suitable members of their little coalition. There have been the usual construction projects, overseeing the questionable introduction of democracy, and a spate of health initiatives. But the planet has been poached at least three times under Aegis’ own eyes. The Breen still operate with impunity – this is not true in other parts of Cardassian space where Klingon influence remains. Aegis does not strike fear; instead, it tries to coddle the favor of those it should be rightly dominating. Thankfully, I played no part in this. Why has Cardassia failed to shake off its defeat? Its people discard the things that defined them as a culture. They no longer drive themselves to master their own fate. They let Aegis watch them from above. They experiment with ideals that are not their own. They leave their fate to others. Stay or go, what does it matter? The Federation doesn’t know whether to let Cardassia be Cardassia or to shape it into its own image. The Romulans want an ally that keeps the rest of us off-balance. The Ferengi just want another market to exploit. Since they are in no position to wage war, we Klingons are most likely to ignore them. As none of the attendants of the High Council seemed interested in providing an official response, these are likely to be the only Klingon answers you’ll get. If I did not owe you my life after the Scorpiad collision, you wouldn’t even get that. I will make a “diplomatic” visit to Aegis on my way back to the Gamma Quadrant. Don’t expect too much.

You're just figuring this out? Semil best hope a certain Klingon does not learn he's been toying with people's memories again. :::sharpens d'tagh:::

With a title like "What They Didn't Know" from Semil, I expected an entire encyclopedia. So, we're supposed to rely on the good will of another Vorta to warn the Klingon fleet at DS9? No wonder we're launching everything we've got.

Gravel crunched loudly under his boots as he stepped off the ramp onto the surface of New Bajor. A cool, pleasant wind breezed through the spaceport, as if to belie the tension in space above them. Members of the Bajoran militia hurried toward him on the tarmac. “Governor!” called one loudly. As he approached, K’Vorlag could see he held the rank of major. “When we first detected your signal, it was too much to hope for.” The major extended his hand eagerly. K’Vorlag took it firmly. “Then you have been cut off from all communication?” “Yes,” the major answered. “Those ships in orbit are doing a good job of jamming even our strongest signals. And they wiped out the entire relay network.” The Klingon nodded. The Scorpiad had done the same, and more, to Dominion targets. So why was this place not a smoldering crater? “Tell me what happened,” he insisted. The major gestured toward the control tower. “General Krim would discuss that with you himself.” # # # # # “They’ve completely cut us off from outside contact,” the Bajoran general explained, “until you.” K’Vorlag took a deep swig of raktajino. This was no time for bloodwine. “We had no indication of attack until our comm satellites started disappearing,” Krim began. “We think they were slow-moving, long-range torpedoes timed to strike at the same time. The ships swept into the system, jamming everything. They destroyed a few outgoing freighters and every impulse fighter we threw at them, but they broke off their attack before entering range of our planetary defense grid.” K’Vorlag set down the steaming mug. “We had reports of orbital bombardment.” “A Scorpiad message,” Krim replied grimly. “After we reconn’ed their position, they sent an attack wave to shell us. Our interceptors did their job, but there was so much incoming. Their ship hit a couple of our self-replicating mines, but two of their devices impacted in unpopulated postions twelve hundred kelicams away. At least 85 isotons. We felt the tremors here in the capital. It seems they don’t want anyone to leave or see what they’re doing.” “What are they doing?” Krim nodded to a nearby colonel in a rust-colored uniform, who stood and illuminated an on-wall graphic of the system. “They’ve gathered their ships somewhere along the asteroid belt that spans the distance between the sixth and seventh planets.” K’Vorlag narrowed his eyes, looking to his own officers. “Is there some significance to that location?” “We know of no tactical or strategic advantage to the position,” the colonel advised. “The whole belt is full of unremarkable iron-ore rocks. They could try to slingshot a big one at us, but it would take months to get here.” “We still have a number of ships in reserve,” General Krim revealed. “We’re preparing a strike.” K’Vorlag felt his lips draw back, baring teeth. How he could have used skilled freedom fighters like these on Betazed! His response was brief but emphatic. “Don’t.” The Bajoran general gaped at him as if he’d seen a Vulcan laugh. “Hoch nuH qel. You defend from a position of strength,” he insisted. New Bajor sat behind one of the most impregnible defenses yet devised, learned from the failures at chin’Toka and Betazed. “They have space superiority, but they do not use it against you. We must first learn why.” K’Vorlag knew his years in Imperial Intelligence had made him a different Klingon than outsiders expected. He revelled in offending their expectations. Krim looked uncertain. “Governor, they already destroyed a Romulan scout…” “Then we will have to do better than the Romulans,” he broke in, getting to his feet. The false dread of that early report had sent ripples of panic among the Allies. “Keep your defenses alert, general. nIteb Qob qaD jup ‘e’ chaw’be’ SuvwI’. You are not alone. The Klingons are with you.”

:::interlaces fingers and cracks knuckles::: Let's see how long this one lasts.

Which sims still use the Midshipman rank?

Of course, at least two STSF sims (Aegis and Excalibur) address some of these issues. Sky Harbor Aegis is thick in the post-war Cardassian environment, if memory serves. (May have to visit again just to see how that's going. It seems there's a lot of current socio/political events that could be parallelled - something I expect from my Trek.) Excalibur is off trying to stablize the post-war Dominion and stave off a civil war with returning changelings (the Hundred) that didn't participate (and lose) in the Alpha Quadrant war. And then there's some formerly oppressed worlds that think the Dominion is weak now - a real fracturing. Again, the strength of Trek: a way to deal with current events in a science fiction format. Are there other sims that try to answer some post-DS9 questions? I think Republic has been operating in the Gamma Quadrant, too...

It was suggested that I explain two of the Klingon metaphors from my log, neither of which are my creation, that come from "Star Trek Klingon for the Galactic Traveler" by Marc Okrand. Doq bIQtIq bIQ ("The river water is red.") While humans use this metaphor to indicate great carnage, the Klingon use indicates something momentous has happened. This comes from a drinking song commemorating the slaying of the tyrant Molor by Kahless. On that day, according to song, the River Skral was colored with the fluids of Molor. bIQ'a'Daq 'oHtah 'etlh'e' ("The sword is in the ocean.") Implies that something has changed and is impossible to return to a prior condition - there is no going back. After Kahless' brother Morath killed their father, he threw their father's sword into the ocean saying that if he could not have it, no one could. Kahless and Morath never spoke again.

K’Vorlag opened his eyes and bolted upright. His hands tensed into claws as he jerked his head around, looking for the enemy. There was a sterile smell, soft light, and familiar tones. A figure near the darkened wall stood, advancing. “You may feel some residual pain from capillary damage,” the cool baritone advised, “but you are quite alive, Governor.” Sorehl stepped closer to the biobed and into the bright illumination of the Reliant sickbay. K’Vorlag relaxed, letting his muscles ease against the mattress. His eyes burned and the tips of his ears and fingers pulsed with each beat of his heart. “Life is pain,” he sighed. There was more to that adage, he recalled, but he was too tired to think about it. “I thought I might wake up to one of those bloodsuckers. The battle was not going well.” “Hence your order to ram the Al-Ucard mothership,” Sorehl surmised. “Not the most prudent action.” K’Vorlag barked a laugh, feeling a searing tightness to his chest. “It worked, didn’t it?” “At the cost of your ship,” Sorehl noted. “I knew what I was doing,” K’Vorlag sighed raggedly, closed his eyes. He was silent for a moment. “And my crew?” “Captain Halloway advised me that they recovered some sixty lifepods,” Sorehl reported. “It would seem you gave them enough time to evacuate. Curious that you would plan a HIvneS but deny your crew the glory.” “Honor-attack,” K’Vorlag scoffed. “Death is the last glory – no need to hasten it if you can live and still send the enemy to theirs. I needed to dump life support into the structual integrity field. They're too good a crew to throw away.” He grinned savagely. “We were a kut’luch in their underbelly.” Sorehl merely nodded. “It had the virtue of being decisive.” The Klingon swung his legs around, hanging off the side of the biobed. He narrowed his eyes at the Vulcan. “We are not at alert. The battle ended well?” “It would seem we prevailed,” Sorehl answered succinctly. “Although our losses might have been greater without the intervention of the Hundred.” “Greater?” he frowned. “You mean those liquid traitors helped us?” The Klingon got to his feet, noting the Vulcan made no move to assist him. “Why?” “Unclear,” Sorehl folded his hands. “They may not have wished the Al-Ucard to intrude on territory they view as their own.” K’Vorlag stood, drawing in breath. “No sense letting someone ruin their inheritance,” he offered. He looked around for his uniform. “Precisely,” the captain agreed. “The Al-Ucard fleet seemed unwilling to contend against our combined forces after their arrival.” “Doq bIQtIq bIQ,” K’Vorlag muttered. “It is momentous, but of what I do not know. Our sword is in that river, too. The Scorpiad won’t ignore us now.” The Klingon looked around the cramped sickbay. “Where is my balric, Vulcan? I have tactical plots to review…”