Posted by Civilian Urg’tohn, Son of the House of Duroc (Klingon Warrior) in House Duroc Embassy - It’s Not A Cult!

Posted by Civilian Eryn Romanov (Colonial Intelligence Agent) in House Duroc Embassy - It’s Not A Cult!

Posted by Civilian Kodek Vonn (Colonial Intelligence Agent) in House Duroc Embassy - It’s Not A Cult!
Posted by… suppressed (2) by the Post Ghost! 👻
It was late and the lights inside the main structure of House Duroc embassy were low. Their red light cast dark shadows that seemed to flicker… as if the place were lit by the lanterns of oil and blood from ages past. The lights barely reached the front gate, but the guards there were not posted because they were not afraid of the dark.

As three figures quietly approached the front gate of the compound one guard, a Klingon of no small stature, looked I totally the darkness and said “You approach the embassy of House Duroc. State your business.” Of the three figures, one stepped forward. If the sight of the figure startled the guard, they showed no sign of it. “Allow me to be more direct then…” the guard said loudly. “What do you want, Breen?”

The armored suit wearing Breen moved up a few steps and stopped a short distance away. “My name is Kashir Gran. Lord Duroc had put word out that he was looking for someone. A particular Vulcan named B’rishir. My partner and I have located him.” The other guard, a human male, leaned towards the Klingon and said softly “That’s the one who put Becca in the infirmary.” The Klingon looked past the Breen and into the darkness. “The two of you… Step up here where I can see you.”

Vonn, CIA Operative

A human woman, with short cut blonde hair and deep blue eyes stepped forward. Her hand had a firm grip on the figure next to her. She was wearing tight fitting cargo pants with a utility vest over a t-shirt that hugged her curves. She was armed but it didn’t look like she was.

The man next to her was a Vulcan male. Younger, fit too. He was hunched into himself like his ribs hurt. “Tell zhem your name.” The Vulcan sneered at her, but with one hard look from her he flinched. “I am B’rishir,” he held his chin high and tried to look down his nose at all of them.

“And I am Eryn Romanov, Kashir Gran’s partner,” the woman said.

Romanov, Colonial Intelligence Agent

Gran didn’t look at the pair; he didn’t have to. He trust in his partner was absolute… the same as was his knowledge that when the Vulcan had tried to ‘accost’ another young woman earlier that evening, he was instead met with flying knee to the ribs from his current walking partner. “We are here to collect the contract on this one from Lord Duroc. We do apologize for the late hour.”

The Klingon officer looked past the Breen and smiled at the prisoner. “This House protects its own. I thought you pointy-eared bastards didn’t go for such things.” The helmet on the armored suit said “Half. He is half Vulcan. Other half Romulan.” The guard gritted his teeth. “Explains a lot. Wait here, please.” and he turned and walked towards the black building set far from the gate.

B’rishir squirmed a bit. Or more like he tried to, but only once. Again with that stare from the woman and he went still once more.

A few minutes passed and the guard returned. The gate swung open and he said “You are expected. Go directly to the main embassy. Lord Duroc will meet you.” This time Gran turned and the helmet faced their companion. “After you.”

Vonn, CIA Operative

Eryn inclined her head respectfully to the guards. She turned a mischievous grin on Gran, “Zo polite,” and then prodded their prey forward. Half way up the walk B’rishir balked. Prey always fought harder when they knew they were cornered. Eryn’s hand slid swiftly up to his shoulder and gripped - a Vulcan nerve pinch, but not enough to make him unconscious. “Lord Duroc’s bounty said ‘alive’, he did not specify in vhat percentage of alive you must be. I vould enjoy toying vith you again.”

The man’s eyes darted around, clearly calculating his chances of being shot before being caught by this woman again. “Do not zhink my partner vill knock you unconscious or dead and save you zhe fear of facing Lord Duroc. You vill be conscious.” Eryn was betting with herself if the man might die of a heart attack before reaching the door. B’rishir began walking again, a bit robotically, his copper skin literally turning green.

Romanov, Colonial Intelligence Agent

“Technically the condition was never exactly stipulated.” the helmet said without looking back. “I’m sure if we just shot him dead right here a case could be made in court that we fulfilled the contractual obligations and therefore still get paid.” Whether it was the eerie emotionlessness of the synthetic voice issuing from the helmet; or the wholly logical discussion of the ramifications of his murder, their ‘guest’ stiffened and decide that whatever lay in store for him inside the imposing black stone structure they approached was preferable to being shot dead; and he began to walk a bit faster.

As they approached the massive Embassy, the great double doors opened and a truly imposing figure strode through, walking with purpose and with a look of decidedly fierce determination on his face. Urg’tohn, Son of Kvaar’ton, Chosen of The Builder, the Fist of The Judicar, and First Lord of House Duroc stopped at the top of the wide stairs and looked down on the captive. “Welcome, Mr. B’rishir. I trust your journey here was a pleasant one. Allow me to make your stay not so much.” He waved his hand and six House guards came out of the building and took the prisoner and walked him inside. Lord Duroc rolled his shoulders, cracking his knuckles as he watched the figures disappear into the gloom. He then turned and looked at the two hunters. “Well done. I appreciate the lack of damage. Means he’ll hurt more later. Come, you need to get paid.” and he turned and began walking back inside.

That was the most massive Klingon that Eryn had ever seen. She’d known a lot of Klingons in her life. They were naturally taller than most humanoids, but this was… Whoa. On the surface she sensed no deception. Honestly, after what B’rishir did to that girl, she would bring him in for free. Extra pay was always welcome though.

He led them inside and down a long hallway. Soon he stopped in front of large metal door that swung open onwards. Taking them inside, it was an office of sorts. Lord Duroc took a seat behind a desk and motioned for them to be seated. “We will drink.” he said and began pouring goblets of a dark red liquid… Blood Wine.

Urg, Lord Duroc

Eryn sat and reached for a glass. “ghIj qet jaghmeyjaj (May your enemies flee in terror.)” she toasted in perfect tlhlngan Hol. Then she drained the cup.

Romanov, Colonial Intelligence Agent