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 Urg’tohn, Son of the House of Duroc (Klingon Warrior) in House Duroc Embassy - It’s Not A Cult!
Posted by… suppressed (10) 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

The Breen lifted the goblet with one hand and pulled down a tube from under the mask and set it in the liquid. A moment later they set the now-empty goblet back on the desk. “We thank you for your hospitality, Lord Duroc.” the helmet said.

Vonn, CIA Operative

Lord Duroc nodded and said “It is my honor.” He leaned back and looked at the two for a moment. He then said “Master Gran, a question if I may.” While the words were inquisitive, the time was not a question. “When did you grow six inches? And where are your trademark bracers?” With a swiftness that startled even Vonn, the giant Klingon warrior had a nasty disruptor in his hand and pointed at the Breen. “I know Kashir Gran. Or rather, I knew him. I think I may be one of three individuals that know he’s dead. So who are you?”

Urg’tohn, Lord Duroc

Eryn didn’t flinch, but she was ready. He might be massive, but he was mortal. Rumors said he was a god or crazy. Eryn didn’t care. There would be a slow painful death for whomever hurt Vonn.

Vomn, to his credit, didn’t flinch. “I’m the one who made him that way.” The voice said flatly. “I am Kodek Vonn.” The Klingon was silent a moment and then he grinned… and then he chuckled… and then he laughed. LOUDLY. “‘Im the one whoade him that way.’ By Kvaar’ton’s broken horn that’s fantastic.” Lord Duroc said when his laugh slowed. He set the disruptor down and said “Vonn… okay. I’ve heard of you. And not just by reputation.” He stared at the sickly green visor in the helmet, and Eryn could see real fire burn in his eyes. “You stopped an arsonist on Grellica. Contract or not, you stopped him. The children of two of his victims are members of my House. The Builder sent them to me to care for them. And he tells me that you have honor. So that makes us friends.” He turned and moved to the back of the room. “I will get your payment.” Vonn waited until the bipedal mountain had his back turned and then he tapped a message into his wrist computer and showed it to Eryn. I had heard he was erratic. I wonder if he is actually just as crazy as the Empire makes him out to be.

Vonn, CIA Operative

Eryn nodded. Her gaze moved to the massive man, her mind seeking out, not intrusive. More like surveillance and recon. Gathering Intel before making a move.

Romanov, Colonial Intelligence Agent

At first, there seemed to be nothing. Not wholly unusual considering there were many species that telepathy and empathic abilities didn’t work on. Even Vonn was immune. But Klingons were not typically so gifted. And so it was only mildly surprising that she couldn’t register him…

And then it all changed.

Something shifted in the mind she was touching ever so slightly. For a split second she could feel Lord Duroc ‘s mind. It was chaotic… like a hurricane… but there was an order to it as well. But all of that was obliterated in her mind when something else came forth with such speed that she had no time to react… and her mind was torn open and her consciousness fell into an abyss of darkness.

Milliseconds… or perhaps eons… passed before she was no longer alone. She was laying face-first on a black stone floor. She was illuminated by light from somewhere, but where was impossible to tell. But somewhere outside of the light… something monstrous moved.

Urg’tohn, Lord Duroc

Eryn… well she wasn’t Eryn was she, and that was bared open for this being to see. Either way, she rolled to her back and listened. Something did move and it was huge, and dangerous, but she didn’t exactly feel threatened, like it was watching her. “So it’s not rumors.”

Romanov, Colonial Intelligence Agent

The voice that spoke was not heard as much as it was felt. The ‘presence’ was all encompassing and swallowed her very soul, it seemed. “Rumors are for those who can’t comprehend the truth.” The voice seemed to come from inside her, and each syllable pressed against her mind like an avalanche. Nothing- no amount of training or experience- could prepare anyone for the sheer, unadulterated magnitude of what she was engaged with.

Eryn, Casela, whoever she was knew better than to fight a mind that was so far beyond humanoid comprehension. She relaxed and remained calm while trying to get a sense of it.

“You are not known to me… or my son. But you are not a normal one, are you?” The shadowed hulking monstrosity clayill could not be seen, but it moved around her as if agitated. “No… you are something… else… a warrior… a hunter… a protector… But you are lost… you are adrift… Where is your anchor, Faceless One?”

Urg’tohn, Lord Duroc

She fought the urge to laugh at being told she wasn’t normal. No, no she was not normal. Faceless One? Accurate, but it made her sad too. In her work it should be a compliment, but she knew they weren’t talking about her work. “He sits beside me in your son’s office.” She sat up slowly, cautiously. No a person should not be a person’s anchor, not in the way this being was speaking, but it was the only truth she had. “My anchor was cut loose long ago. He is all I have.”

Romanov, Colonial Intelligence Agent