Konath

Few things were as exhilarating to a Klingon as escaping from the evils of bureaucracy; especially if that Klingon had not been afforded the company of other Klingons for months on end. Councilman Konath, member of the High Council, was such a Klingon. Over a year had passed since the Battle of the Wormhole, when he'd led the Klingon contingent of the Alpha Quadrant fleet that launched from Deep Space Nine and turned the tide of battle. Since then, he'd spent nearly the entire time on Earth as a, what has Chancellor Martok called it, “special advisor and liaison” to the Federation Council regarding how the Alpha powers moved forward with Camelot, Avalon and the continued exploration and security of the Gamma Quadrant. To say he was happy to be leaving Earth and the over-comforts of the Federation behind aboard a Bird of Prey filled with warriors of his own species would be the overstatement of the century. Sure he'd had contact with his people over the last year; the advice, suggestions and experience offered to him by Governor K'Vorlag could not be discounted easily, and while they'd shared a bottle or eight of bloodwine, even then it wasn't the same as being among his people. The Federation was soft. Though he'd come to find a new respect for the humans, even having adopted one into his house, they were truly soft. And not just soft, but contagiously soft. After a year on Earth, he'd found himself liking the 'comforts' of a mattress, advanced replicators, regular showers and the general luxuries they afford to people of rank. That was what was frightening. The smell of fresh gagh reminded him quickly that he was no longer on Earth, as did the hearty, drunken laughter of some young warrior telling a story of his 'bravery' on their last mission. It was good to be home among his people once more. Placing a bottle of bloodwine to his lips, the tall, decorated Klingon laughed along with the punchline of the story the young warrior was telling and smiled happily. With any luck his current 'fact-finding mission' to the Gamma Quadrant would last long enough to harden him once more, and let the Klingon be a Klingon. He also hoped he'd run into the Governor, but these days you never knew where K'Vorlag was going to pop up. Between Camelot and all the turmoil of the Gamma Quadrant and the on-going issues at Aegis, the Governor was a very busy Klingon. Silently, Konath wondered how the Governor seemed to keep himself so true to the warrior way, yet spend so much time with the humans. It was a curiosity that he made a note to ask the Governor about, should their paths cross.

The IKS Balth skimmed through the debris of the Dominion Fleet. The ships looked literally sliced into pieces. The planetoid below shared a similar fate. Tagor had hoped something would have survived, but unfortunately the surface of the planet had been sliced to shards. No weapon he’d ever witnessed could deliver so much havoc. This, more than the deaths of the Dominion clones, concerned him deeply. If this was the work of the Hundred, then they had developed weapons more powerful than even the Dominion’s twisted scientists. Tagor, much to his first officer’s displeasure had ordered the bodies of no less than 15 Jem’Hadar and Vorta beamed aboard. “It is a breach of honor to disturb the dead.” “And it is a breach of honor if we do not ascertain what has happened hear,” Tagor had snapped sharply. “I want their eyes examined.” “And why is that?” “I wish to determine what types of weapons caused this damage…” “Very well…” His first officer relented, knowing that Tagor had chosen the correct path. It had been a difficult dissection. But the amount of damage inflicted on the ships had made it almost impossible to determine the type and origin of the weapons used in the attack. Tagor now sat on the bridge of the Balth, awaiting the report from his Qel (Doctor). His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the elderly doctor. “HoD Tagor…” “Speak Qel,” Tagor said sharply, his anxiety creeping into his voice. “I am unable to do anything else here,” the Qel said with a sigh. “To fully analyze the rods and cones of the Jem’Hadar I need the resources on Camelot.” That had not been what Tagor had hopped for, though he had figured that was the response he would get from the elderly doctor. “Very well then, prepare them for stasis. We’ll get underway as soon as possible.” The Qel nodded and left the MeH. “Helm,” Tagor said abruptly. “Cloak us and set course for the Avalon system. Once you clear the asteroid field, go to maximum warp. For no reason do you slow, take the shortest flight path possible. Our cargo is most precious…”

It had taken a considerably longer amount of time than the HoD (Captain) of the IKS Balth (Honor), a small B’Rel class Bird of Prey, to reach their intended target than he had anticipated; as a result the HoD could unequivocally be described as grumpy. Tagor, Son of the Hataj, of the House of Konath, scowled mincingly at his helm officer. “What is our ETA?” The young helmsman looked up, “Thirty minutes.” “Maj,” Tagor frowned, turning back in his seat to face the viewscreen. “Do sensors show anything at the target yet?” The young Lagh at tactical quickly responded, “ghobe' (no),” glancing at Tagor, “We would have to drop cloak to get a better scan.” “I know that,” Tagor snarled. “Bring weapons on stand by.” The Balth had been dispatched from Starbase Camelot nearly three days ago on a reconnaissance mission, under orders that came directly from Governor K’Vorlag. That had surprised Tagor. He was a young HoD, barely twenty, and many of the elder Klingons resented him for it, believing that the only reason he’d got the rank was because his uncle was the right hand of Martok. While that likely factored into his quick rise through the ranks, he’d proven himself more than capable in the service of the Empire during his short tenure as HoD of the Balth. Earning a reputation for finding information that others had difficulty uncovering. So when such a man as K’Vorlag came to personally assign him this mission, he took great pride. And he did not wish to fail and the multiple delays he’d suffered through now jeopardized his success. The delays had been caused by passing fleets of Dominion vessels, despite the fact they weren’t at war, Tagor had been given strict orders to maintain secrecy and avoid detection at all costs, which meant he had to hide more often than he would have wished. So now, almost a full day behind schedule the Balth closed in on the Takoris Ceti cloning facility. Nestled safely behind an asteroid belt, in the past it was among the most secretive of all the Dominion cloning facilities. It was here that the Founders had developed the elite Grey Battalion of Jem’Hadar, and a whole assortment of heinous and wicked iterations of the soldiers. But that was then; today Takoris Ceti was now a primary production plant of Vorta and older Jem’Hadar Gamma models that were used to garrison worlds of little strategic importance. However with the recent destruction of so many of the cloning facilities, the aging Takoris plant had once again become of great importance to the Dominion. The Balth stealthily entered the system, slipping by the asteroid belt which blocked most sensor scans. When they had cleared it, Tagor could barely believe his eyes. “In Kahless’ name!” the normally sedate Klingon said amazed. The entire planet lay in ruin, smoldering in space. Around it, artificial rings, composed of a fleet of Jem’Hadar attack ships, floated ominously. The other Klingons on the bridge simply stared at the scene on the viewscreen. “Prepare to drop cloak,” Tagor barked, regaining his composure. “I want a full analysis!” “Is that wise?” his first officer, GoRak questioned lowly. Tagor stroked his non-existent beard thoughtfully. “Probably not,” he said standing up in his chair. “But we must ascertain exactly what has happened here. I fail to believe that the Hundred were able to amass such a fleet to cause this destruction on their own.” “You suspect the Romulans?” “I do not know what I suspect, other than there are more forces at play here than meet the eyes.” “Very well HoD,” GoRak said, “As soon as we have determined that no other vessels remain in the system we will drop cloak and began scanning the wreckage.” “MaJ,” Tagor said making his way to his chambers. “Inform me if you find anything.” Tagor walked purposefully off the MeH. His mission had failed in it’s primary goal…discover who was attacking the outposts. But there was now a chance, perhaps at redemption. He only hoped that K’Vorlag and the Kij’Pah had more luck than he.

Councilman Konath 0411.24 IKS MaQja ~Start~ A very proud, if not drunken, warrior lay sleeping in his home that he kept in the capitol city of Qo’Nos, just a few blocks from the Great Hall. In all of his years, Konath had never undertaken such a challenge as to put a Human through the Rite of Ascension. But he had, and he had succeeded. He had also gained from the experience, not only a valuable ally on the QoB and the House of BcH—but a son. And while Konath had three sons, and two daughters—this newest addition to his house, was his most prideful achievement yet. Even if Boris did have a smooth forehead, he was now the Son of one of the most powerful Klingons in the Empire. The elder sons of Konath, twins as it were, would not be happy about the addition of a human to their house, but they would not dare challenge their father—to do so would be suicide. Konath was glad to have Boris as his son, not only as a show of his greatness as a Dahar Master, but now to have someone to pass on the legacy of the House of Ken’Lah and Konath. While his sons had grown to be fine warriors, already rising in rank and showing their prowess as commanders in battle—they were far to ambitious for Konath’s own taste. At time they reminded him of greedy Ferengi, biding their time until Konath had passed on to reap the fruits of his labor. Boris, he thought, would be the perfect selection to one day take his place at the Council. Perhaps, one day, even Chancellor. The thought made the normally brutish Konath laugh…it would be worth it to see the look upon the elder’s faces to just name Boris a member of the Council, let alone Chancellor. This was another matter he had been considering for sometime now. Konath had risen in rank and power to an almost unparalleled status through out the Empire. He command a large fleet, and had many powerful allies in the Council. He controlled many lands, and the money to purchase anything that he desired. Only one man in the Empire stood before him as a superior…or equal for that matter. Chancellor Martok. The most powerful position in the Empire—and it could be his. As a boy, he had a vision. In the vision, Khalless had appeared to him. He had said “Konath, Son of Ken’LaH. Your destiny has been decided. Go, Power to you, who shall one day be known as Konath the Great.” That had been an image emblazoned in his mind forever. And since that day he had worked, ruthlessly—yet honorably—to rise to the place at which he now was. Was his destiny to become Chancellor? Only time would tell. He knew that now was not the time to challenge Martok. He was popular with the people, and an honorable man. So Konath would wait, bide his time until the timing was correct—then he would make his move. But that was the future, this was the present. His new son would soon be shipping off on a glorious quest into the unknowns of space. When the QoB had been discovered some three months ago—Konath would never imagined that he would call any human his own, let alone allow one into his family. But now—as the humans so often do—they had surprised him and endeared themselves to him. Boris would never be a true Klingon. But he would be a Warrior and an Honorable Son of the House of Konath—and that—when the world was broken—would be all that mattered. ~End~

Councilman Konath 0408.19 IKS MaQja ~Start~ Konath sat in deep thought aboard the MeH on the MaQja contemplating the situation. He did not agree with the Chancellor’s decision to release the QoB crew to their own devices, but there was little he could do about that decision, Martok would not tolerate Konath questioning the decision, and it was most likely a decision backed by Qun'Jatlh. While Konath did not fear either of them, he would choose not to anger them unless it was necessary. However, he was not so sure about letting them roam free for three months unchecked. Yes, Konath had decided to keep an eye on them, especially this ‘Messner.’ This one perplexed Konath. Had Konath not seen the smooth forehead, he would have swore Messner had the heart of Klingon warrior. His thoughts were broken by his OPS officer. “Councilman,” he said. “Martok wonders if you will be attending the celebration banquet.” Konath grunted. “What is there to celebrate?” The OPS officer hesitated a moment. “With all respect, should we not celebrate the return of great warriors to the Empire, from a long quest?” Again Konath grunted. “Great Warriors? They have not conquered; they have not won glorious battles. You act as if the Quest of QoB should be legendary. That it should be sung of in great songs and tales in the Hall of Warriors!.” The OPS officer was silent, obviously Konath was in a foul mood. Konath grunted at the silence. “Inform the Chancellor that I will be attending the banquet. Also send word to HoD Gre’tQ that I wish to speak with him, I have a mission for him. Also send word to Qun’Jalth. I wish to consult his ‘wisdom.’ He may be old, and growing senile, but he is a source I can not over look.” The OPS officer nodded and quickly scurried back to his station, leaving Konath to stare at the view screen once more. The QoB had returned for a long and dangerous journey. It was a symbol of what the Klingons had become, brothers with the Federation. And that is what so troubled Konath, since Khitomer all those years ago, the Klingon heart had been tamed by the Federation. His heart raged with the furry of Kahless, but he felt weak, docile. The QoB was a symbol of that, to him, and he yearned to simply tap a button and erase that symbol from history. He sighed, he knew he could not do that, he knew that his angst would continue. And that the glory days of the past were long dead. The QoB/Lakota was the future of the Empire and the Federation. ~End~

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Councilman Konath 0407.17 IKS MaQja ~Start~ Konath grunted as he read over the files on the IKC QoB. “Lost in the Alpha Quadrant…presumed destroyed…under command of HoD BcH…” He was mumbling to himself, more than speaking in coherent sentences. He turned his attention to the view screen directly in front of him on the MeH of the mighty Negh’Var-class command ship, MaQja. His fleet, along with QoB had entered a stationary position behind the 1st moon of Qo’Nos. Konath did not trust the human in command of the QoB, why should he. But he also knew that the man wasn’t stupid enough to go against Konath’s commands that no one was to beam to or make contact with the surface. Nevertheless, Konath was taking no chances. It had always been that cautious thoroughness that had kept Konath alive and it would continue to for some time, if Konath had anything to say about it. He was young for a councilman, something that some of the elders resented, but they would not say so openly for Martok had taken a liking to Konath. If for no other reason than Konath’s popularity through out the Empire. Konath’s rise to power began in the Klingon Civil War. His father, an elderly general named Ken’Lah pledged his forces to Gowron, but due to advanced age was unable to lead them in battle. The natural choice was his son, Konath. Konath led his fathers forces to glorious victory along with the united forces of the Houses of Mogh and Gowron. Following is service to Gowron and the Empire, during the Caradassian War, Konath was rewarded with the title HoD of a Vor’cha-class cruiser. But at the battle of Grenti Prime, he assumed command of the 4th Task Force when General Tarn’s vessel was destroyed. Grenti Prime had been one of the few battles in which the Cardassians had an advantage in battle strength, but it was Konath’s brilliant command of the battle field that won the day for the Empire. Grenti Prime had been one of the planets the Klingons kept after the disaster of DS9, and Konath had been appointed governor by Gowron himself. When the Dominion War erupted, Konath was ordered to do what ever it took to maintain Klingon control of the Grenti Sector. Despite overwhelming odds, Grenti Prime never returned to Cardassian Control. His reputation quickly spread through out the empire, and he was becoming among the most popular Governors in the Empire. For his honorable service to the Empire, the new Chancellor Martok rewarded the House of Konath with many titles and lands, in addition to a seat upon the High Council. Konath stood from his chair to his full height of well over 6’8.” He grunted at his Operations officer. “Do we have conformation that they are following orders?” His operations officer nodded. “Hijja” “Maj, Maj,” Konath turned to face the Tactical officer next. “If they so much as move with out my express permission you are to destroy them,” he said with a deadly serious tone. “Do you understand?” “Qapla!” “Maj.” Konath turned to face the operations officer again, then to his science officer. “You and Engineering are to assemble a team to investigate the QoB. You have one hour to be ready. You will assemble in transporter room one. I will meet you there. I wish to see this Ghostship brought back from the dead myself.” His RawI, who was standing next to him grunted in displeasure. “Is that…necessary Councilman? Perhaps you should take a guard detail with you.” Turning to face the shorter Klingon, Konath flashed his well sharpened fangs. “I am quite capable of taking care of myself. See to it that preparations are made. Remind the crews of the battle fleet that absolute radio silence is to be maintained. If they so much as speak the word QoB to anyone that is not part of this operation, I will personally see to it they die, and that their families will be stripped of all honor. Is that clear??” The RawI knew Konath meant every word. “Hijja!” “Then see to it,” Konath said as he looked back to the Operations officer. “Contact the QoB inform them a Science and Engineering team will be beaming over in 1 hour. Do not tell them I am coming.” “QAPLA!” ~End~

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