Posted by Lieutenant Dashel Jamison (Son of Morak) (Chief Intelligence Officer) in Spaceport - Arrival of the Sons of the House of Duroc

Posted by Civilian K’vorth, Son of the House of Duroc (Klingon Warrior) in Spaceport - Arrival of the Sons of the House of Duroc

Posted by Civilian Joseph Karlson (Head of Police Force) in Spaceport - Arrival of the Sons of the House of Duroc
Posted by… suppressed (8) by the Post Ghost! 👻

<snip>

Dash was in awe of the way the Commissioner handled that, Dash’s way would have probably ended in pain and suffering and needless bleeding … for Dash. He had fallen silent, allowing the older man to take control of proceedings. Now, Dash approached the car and paused … his time on Qo’noS reminded him of the importance placed on protocol by the Klingons and he most definitely didn’t want them to think he was challenging them to a duel to the death … even the smallest of the Klingons, the one referred to as runt, and a title that Dashel himself received, would beat him without raising a sweat, it seemed. So, Dashel waited for the Klingons to enter before him. Besides, it meant they wouldn’t be at his back and he could make a quick escape if the car ride turned nasty.

-Dashel Jamison, CIO

The tallest of the three Klingons glared at Dash and bared his teeth in what at first may have been taken as an attempt to eat him… but soon worked it’s way into a kind of most unsettling smile. “In you go, Son of Morak. You are blessed to be with us! And more blessed to be the one to test the interior for traps! Go, and may your death rattle be loud and bloody!” and he slammed a large hand onto the CIO’s shoulder and pushed him towards the open car door in what would be considered a friendly fashion if one: they had currently finished some kind of combat sport and two: had he not hit the human with such force.

Urg’tohn, Son of the House of Duroc

Dash moved on … as much propelled by the force in the Klingon’s blow on his shoulder than anything else. But he took it without complaint or scratching at it. He knew either reaction would likely make it worse.

“I would be … honoured … to die in such a fashion for the glory of the noble quest.” Dash said, knowing that once he reached his quarters, a large icepack, and perhaps a visit to either the Starfleet medical or the general Sacred Heart Hospital on Oed V would be a wise move … but out of sight, hearing (and smell) of the Klingons …

OOC: Correcting typos.

The “Runt” still stood six foot two inches, in fact, and was the eldest of the brothers. He paused for a moment while Urg played with Dash, still unsure if they were doing the right thing… but it had appeared that Kvaa’rton had spoken to all of them. This was the place, and here they would find clues as to the next steps they must take to restore House Duroc! Once the others were inside the vehicle, he got in himself and fixed his eyes on the Comissioner. “Where do you take us?” He asked.

-Q’ragh, Son of House Duroc

Michael Conrad watched as the Klingons disappeared. It was probably a blessing for the Klingons to be fair. Michael had his fair share of run ins with kliingons. Then again, he had had his fair share of runs ins with just about anyone. He was typically ready for anything a Klingon would dish out. And there was a part of him that definitely wished he had managed to snag the opportunity to put a few more holes in their garbage truck of a ship. Then again, it probably wouldn’t have been a fair fight.

He shrugged and went back to his work on the Black Sparrow.

-Michael Conrad, Black Sparrow CO

Joseph unbuttoned his Jacket with one hand whilst placing his cane over his thigs with his other “Where?” He smiled as he leaned back in his seat at one end of the limousine “Wherever I feel like taking you” As he said that the door closed and the vehicle started moving up-up and away. Joseph looked at his left wrist, there was a small computer screen attached to it “It took longer than I like to authenticate your identities, but shouting out Kvaar’ton really helped so thanks for that.” After a moment there was a beep and from his right side, a PaDD came from the door. The elderly human grabbed it and started reading “Q’ragh, K’vorth and Urg’tohn. Triplets born and raised on Kronos, I don’t have great immediate access to the Klingon archives but that will soon be remedied” He smiled as he looked up “Don’t worry gentlemen if I wanted you dead You would be” He spoke softly but the Grandfatherly tone that Jamison had heard the first time they had met was gone, replaced with a certain firmness “You three assaulted Federation Citizens after having been here less than ten minutes. Now they will be pressing charges, I am fairly certain of this. What will happen with those charges depends largely on the three of you” Although he was addressing them as a group he was focusing on the eldest, it was clear he had had interactions with Klingons before “Are you going to be attacking any more of my citizens without cause?”

Commissioner Karlson

Urg’tohn leaned forward, and for the first time the aura of chaos and Klingon-style whimsy faded… replaced with a look of absolute conviction and belief. “You do not scare us, old man. Nor does your threat of a weak and ineffective justice. You are not dealing with any the likes of which you have seen before. We are Klingons… ones who have been tested, fought, jailed, experimented on, beaten, tortured, and vilified by our own. And yet…” and he swung his arms as wide as the confines would let him “… here we are. We bring the God Kvaar’Ton with us. We have been sent here by him to fulfill our holy quest and restore our House and Kvaar’Ton himself to his rightful place. Many have stood against us. All have failed. So do what you will, little man.” and he leaned back, an air of absolute confidence and serenity in his bearing. “We. Are. The. Chosen.” and paused and looked intently at the Commissioner. “We will do what we must to appease our Lord.”

Urg’tohn, Son of the House of Duroc, Follower of The Builder, Chosen of Kvaar’Ton

Q’ragh held up a hand to keep his brother from fuming anymore. He might very well be crazy, but he knew people and he knew communication… He leaned forward, staring intently at the older human. His eyes drilled into those of the commissioner, taking in details of the man’s bravado and demeanor. When he spoke he sounded less crazy than Urg, though very much as frightening as an angry klingon can be.

“My brother is angry, and he has every right to be, but do not take his ranting for foolishness… We are brothers, yes… And we have done the things you accuse us of. However, we will not be intimidated by you or anyone else… You will do what you will do, as is your right, but know this, human: We are servants of the only being who saw worth in us when we were but orphans in the streets. We are alive this day because our lord protected us and guided our steps. Our own people saw us as a curse and sought to separate and control us… As you see, this they were unable to do. So they tried to kill us. This also, they were unable to do.”

Here he paused, watching for the man’s eyes to say something. Then he continued.

” We do not fear you because we fear nothing. Our God is with us. However, we do not have to be enemies and we are prepared to exist here as we must to further our goal. If you will help us, as you said… We will do our best to behave in a manner that befits a warrior. However… Threatening us will do you no good. “

He put his hand down, waiting for the man to reply.

-Q’ragh, Son of House Duroc

There was a pregnant pause as Joseph looked between the eldest Q’ragh and the more brazen Urg’thon. After nearly a minute of silence, he started laughing, loudly and with great cheer. He stopped after a good while and reached to his left side and pressed a button. After a slight Swishing sound, a medium sized compartment opened revealing a small bar. Joseph grabbed five metal glasses and handed them down, giving Q’ragh three and the Chief Intelligence officer one whilst holding on to the fifth for himself.

“I got this about twenty years ago from an old friend of mine, I never shared my brothers taste for the drink but they both share a fondness for this vintage, 2309” He grabbed the bottle of Bloodwine out of the container and opened the tap and started pouring, first to the brothers then the CIO and finally for himself “You all misunderstood my meaning, understandable considering your backgrounds” The compartment closed itself.

He continued his soft smile as he took his first sip and showed no immediate reaction “You three must be very familiar with that feeling of excitement when meeting overwhelming odds when a force greater than yours threatens your very existence.” He looked into his cup and gave it an approving look before taking a second sip “Well the next time you feel that exhilarating emotion is when you know I’ve threatened you” He turned his attention back to the Klingons Three “It must have been some time since someone truly threatened you all if a friendly question is all it took.” His reactions to the utter craziness was a seemingly inexhaustible amount of calm “But now is the time you three understand something about me” He prepared himself.

“I’ve been a soldier since before you all were born. I’ve fought and killed more men than any one person should, this includes Klingon Warriors. I was named Wamwl’ by my foes during the short Federation-Klingon war due to my very particular talents. I was hated and feared by Dominion forces so much that five times they sent agents to end my life” by this point his friendly smile had faded “I’ve been through hell and back again too many times to count and never has any God promised me aid” He paused slightly before relaxing again and his smile returned “So I hope you understand what your threats amount to with me” He raised his glass “To new beginnings” He smiled once more.

Commissioner Karlson

Dash’s stomach was doing somersaults as the bloodwine traveled down into it and struck the greasy breakfast he had earlier that morning.

A slight snore sounded from the corner that K’vorth had been seated in, and in the small silence that followed a much louder sound, almost like a blast of thunder ripping through a rainforest and lightning cracking the trunks of tree’s emanated from the middle brother of the Three. Well maybe it wasn’t that impressive but in the small confined space it was more than noticeable. Not only that, but the smell, like a mixture of old eggs, gagh and targ liver filled the Limousines small and now cramped interior.

Waking with a start, K’vorth sat up straight and glanced at the non-klingons accusingly and as he became aware of the smell, with a face of utmost disgust. “You are disgusting” he told them, and didn’t look in the slightest impressed.

K’vorth, Son of House Duroc

The smell from K’vorth struck Dash’s nostrils, which made his stomach heave further, and he couldn’t hold the contents of it any further, and he proceeded to throw up. It seemed the vomit formed an arrow, like bees from loony tunes cartoons, and the arrow headed towards Q’ragh. The vomit splattered over the Klingon’s outfit and on the chair in which he sat. It (the vomit) contained a multitude of things:- eggs, tomato, toast, bacon … and (the ever present) carrots.

“Carrots? I don’t remember eating carrots,” Dash muttered, when suddenly the realization that he had thrown up over a large Klingon dawned on him.

He looked at Q’ragh and said, “oops.”

-Dash Jamison, CIO

The limos comms crackled seeminly picking up interference from a nearby baby monitor, “Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha......Burrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp! dada” then it silenced again. There was a limit to Kvaarton’s influence, though he was attempting to tickle the police commissioner under the chin, and get to the glass of whiskey.

Kvaarton the wedged.