Thursday, November 21, 2013

STO Fiction Writing #51, Post #6



Literary Challenge #51



One of your chief officers has been thrown into the Brig. Why? Maybe there was a misunderstanding, or are they actually a culprit? Write a Captain's Log entry letting us know the situation and the outcome.



http://sto-forum.perfectworld.com/showthread.php?p=12664231&posted=1#post12664231



Post #6


Mong-Dech was not grumpy or furious. His daughter does not like serving aboard the battle cruiser. His wives grow weary at her insubordination regarding her on-board education. Even his parents do not wish to home school her at times. On the other hand, such a display of independence is very heart warming to the family, so it is usually tolerated. Today was different, with one wife in the ready room observing diplomatic protocol procedures, and the other working closely in junction with the senior operations officer on the bridge the general had no choice but to escort the adolescent himself. "Adolescent," in the 24th century this is a strange oxymoron, the young woman is almost thirty years old. By Klingon standards however . . . His daughter had read his revolutionary debriefing to his fleet and allies, she particularly took disregard for his comment that, "education lasts your entire life...while formal education might only take 10%," and to, "...get used to the idea of betterment." Originally a comment on the KDF work and learn program La'tal decided it was a personal insult. Mong-Dech only replied that if she wanted to live in urban poverty as he did at her age, such an option was of course completely possible. There are many neighborhoods that did not benefit from his development of street wise alliances, and community outreach programs that he had helped to facilitate over the years. Most Klingon cities are very much like the capital, complete war zones.

     While returning to the bridge after confining his daughter to quarters he imagined that La'tal would eventually continue with her studies as she normally did. He almost never explained to her the difficulties he faced during adolescents. He usually left that designation for his wives or other family members, or comrades who have known him long enough to mention. While he knew she would not see that he was honoring her with his wisdom, she did have the recompense to acknowledge that her temper had betrayed her-although she said nothing of the sort, he could read her body language.

     As he wandered back to the turbo lift he worried about his wives reaction a little. He was not too harsh, although they should have no concerns that La'tal will be continuing her research. "We can not tell if she will be an engineer, a civic engineer, or a tactical consultant like her mothers," he mused to himself. Already La'tal was capable of granting stress to her mothers with the Klingon blade, but not quite yet the Bat'Leth. Even she would not dare oppose her grand parents, however, her mothers are quite proud of her for that. "A young KaBeTarg shows wisdom," he remembered his mother had doted towards her grand-daughter.

   What was the use? He had very ordinary Occupational duties to attend to, and in his staging of preparedness, weeks in advance, the High Council demands his presence, his acknowledgement, his confirmation. To no one, NO ONE, does he respond to outside of Occupation Code Encryption during a mission preparedness protocol procedure. Very few members of the Occupational Fleet could for certain know what his duties and the duties of his crew were. The BaQ MonG-DecH had the highest form of security clearance for all 'theoretical duties,' based on his proposals, empirical contracts and contacts within the high council. The ship rotation had been cleared from an Occupational agency, no spies were found, no contraband, no illegal weapons or vengeance seekers were aboard to the highest level of knowledge available to the General. No fanatics, no harmful aliens, no Federation members, no indication of Borg, Founders, Tal Shiar, the list goes on and on, nothing.

     Suppose he were to be on a mission to join the Occupation Fleet and directly oppose the Klingon factions of the Nefarious Corporate Oligarchy, there would be no way in hell Mong-Dech was going to tell the Chancellor's office anything at this stage of the mission. Just the same, three weeks, a month, two months, even House of J'mPoc fleet ships were told by the offices of the High Council to warn Mong-Dech that his non-compliance was an insult to the Empire! To him! An insult? He was following security protocols ad nauseum, yes that was factual, however not unusual. 

     A private message from J'mPoc said, "They say you must comply to threat of treason, this is nonsense, when you are ready respond to their claim." That message came yesterday and was the Chancellor's private encryption, of course Mong-Dech could prove this to anyone, even to anyone aboard his ship, and he of course only mentioned the existence of such a message to his wives, after they had completed their shifts and their daughter had eaten and had retired to her quarters. He imagined that the High Council who was hounding him with useless hyperbole was completely incapable of understanding the security risks they were creating for him.

     There were members of the Occupation that took an aggressive oppositional stance to his being in league with the murderer of Martok. Mong-Dech himself suffered shame that neither faction could find  ability to co-operate before fatality occured. However, not to dishonor Martok, he had either suffered too great a health risk at the hands of the Dominion or had become a genocidal maniac. There were too many Gorn in the Empire and a hostile takeover of the Hegemony was barbaric even by Klingon standards. Of course there were other political issues, however Mong-Dech had fought long and hard for equality and civil rights in the Empire, this was too much.

     Compared to today however, Gorn integration had not found such a high level of acceptance during Martok's reign. In many ways Mong-Dech was suspicious that Martok staged his death to compete to gain equal rights for the Empire. This was something that was only whispered in his quarters.

     Recently the High Council had granted his right to succession as his 'field promotion,' during the Occupation of the Corporate Hierarchy Stronghold. It had been years since he ratified his field promotion with five long years of military tactical training, almost all of which was classified. Occupy Generals who did not heed the High Council's concerns for an up to date military education were de-accommodated. However many had made significant gains, and were by no means unseasoned captains. Most Captains of the Occupation were there by merit alone, academic and by right of passage, be that as it may. Not all. This was difficult for Mong-Dech, if the High Council was to be bought off by the Nefarious Corporate Oligarchy, then most Empirical equality, economic or otherwise, was doomed. Gaardox Mong-Dech was very concerned that education, and military advancement through proper Empirical channels should be considered by all in the Occupation. Let us not give any excuses to the Nefarious Corporate Oligarchy, let them know that other than they, this IS a civil war!

     Mostly his rhetoric was considered revolutionary gander by Occupation members, however membership to the Occupation had in recent years swollen to such a degree that in fleet training had to occur to the utmost standards of the Empire, in all areas and facilitation.

   "Hah! The High Council..., after so many honor filled decades of my service they obviously must want to disturb my mission to grant me a promotion to Major General," So mused General Mong-Dech. "They must wait." Gaardox then considered the exact nature of his duties, in the empirical bridge chair. What he wanted is to steal away the hours in his quarters with his wives and a kask of bloodwine. What he would be doing is confirming Empirical Occupation convoy lines, KDF and Empirical Occupation Fleet defense strategies -as they are projected within bridge astro-metrics, and finally confirm certain staging quantities. Certain confirmations could not be left to the Quarter-master. They were too important, whether to him personally, the occupation, or the Empire, he would not distinguish, that was classified, and usually only he could know for certain.

     The only reason he was thankful to leave the turbo lift was because he was tired of rehearsing his duties in his mind. Both wives were still sure to be busy, now the Quartermaster himself needed his attention, well, at least he wasn't a member of the High Council. Twice during the tirade O'Wa'TaQ MonG-DecH emerged from the General's quarters to inform Gaardox personally that the High Council had left a message for him. Three times Gaardox could tell that T'Sha MonG-DecH wanted to execute the quartermaster and discuss La'tal. Everyone on the bridge could with empirical certainty ascertain that Gaardox MonG-DecH was prepared to murder certain members of the Klingon High Council.

     "There is no enacting security protocols against the Corporate Oligarchy! If we cannot supply the Occupation on the Negh Var moons, then we can only expect further enslavement of Klingon citizens! THIS WILL NOT BE TOLERATED! This is not a military or a priority channel, I most repose the Occupation Fleet at this time, do not signal any member of the Occupation Fleet again! You are being outrageous! It is my duty and honor to serve the Occupation in this manner, It is my duty and HONOR to serve the Empire in this manner, this is why I and others of the Occupation seized a field promotion, and this is why many of us continued our empirical training to become Empirical Fleet Officers. Do not let your dusty law books interrupt relevant Empirical protocol! Tomorrow we may receive the signal to join with the Borg Initiative Protocol Alliance and help defend the galaxy, DO NOT CONTINUE TO DISTURB MY COUNTENANCE IN THIS MANNER! I will receive your messaging at the proper and respectful end of my current duty mission - QA'PLA!"

     Factually he went twice a year with a mixed fleet alliance to disturb Borg activity. Sometimes it took too many months, sometimes it only took weeks. There was no telling. The way the High Council told the story however, you would think that Mong-Dech owed the Empire for their patronage. Gaardox assured the representative that this was in no way the expected case, and began the empirical task of blocking all further signals from the High Council. This to was protocol. He had heard that Km'Pec had at times delayed the High Council in a similar manner, war or diplomacy being more relevant. Gowron was very intuitive to this degree. Martok, well, Martok was mostly very angry with the High Council, and Gaardox knew why. Gowron would engineer diplomacy with the High Council in amusing ways that reinforced his relationships with his Captains and Generals. Martok would simply threaten the High Council. Gaardox was to assume that in the 25th century that nothing should threaten the sanctity of any relevant mission to the Empire. That said, they, almost like a weather forecast, neither the Occupation Fleet nor the Empire could predict any Borg evaluation at this time, and inner fleet combat within the Empire had practically halted, at least by 24th century standards. This is something that was not whispered, but bragged on by members of his house. The only real enemy was within, and the Borg, and even the Borg held no real challenge, merely an extreme nuisance. That is if the Borg did not catch one off guard. The Council had changed frankly.

    Mogue, Martok, Gowron, Duras, Km'Pec, all High Council warriors were welcome and equally opposed to the Corporate Oligarchy. D'rmQot MarG the political philosopher to the Empire noted that Km'Pec had gained politically after Km'Pec's decline. Before Gowron had been defeated, the House of Mogue was fulled re-accommodated. The House of Gowron had gain respect, civility and respectability after his fall, however no re-accommodation was necessary. The House of Duras gained responsibility and deaccommodation was continually an eminent threat to that house. After the death of Martok, it was very strange, there was no infighting, and many diplomatic appointments were assigned grants of accommodation in light of his loss. Statues, civic centers and prominent streets, shuttle ways, and landing spaces, education and many other relevant deployments - a special office of his House had to be designed to complete the business of Empire in his absence. Gaardox was simply left to assume that as much that had been civic use of the Chancellorhood of Martok would so become of his dismissal. This never sat well with Gaardox, he was still uninterested in the loss of Km'Pec the Chancellor of his youth, why should he, how could he appreciate these losses? Years had passed, yet this still unnerved him. It was common that prominent officers of the Occupation could report directly to House observation in the High Council, crimes against the well-being of Klingons in general were becoming exceedingly difficult to create within the Empire. For this he himself would celebrate as a victory someday in Sto-vo-kor, such as he routinely did now as a living Klingon.

    What's this? The High Council associate went so far as to assume that Gaardox had a priority of orgiastic Occupational concerns for victory, and this had improperly adjusted his considerations for victory. Gaardox had no problem blocking all further Empirical contacts on any ship channel aboard the 'BaQ MonG-DecH' from that point on. Gaardox isolated frequencies, entered his codex, and perpetuated signal designage.

     Mong-Dech took further relish in observing the Occupational fleet lines in his astrometrics bridge observation post [his chair,] and took pains to communicate with Captains and to personally advise, challenge, or send salutation. Diplomatic relations had been strained recently again as the offices of the Corporate Oligarchy had been caught spying on members of the High Council and surveying messages in relation to the Occupational Fleet forces. Gaardox thought this would entice the High Council to embellish in their alliances with the Occupational and allied Fleets. It did so for a time, now however their actions proved too insidious. Going against mission security would look like unnecessary scrutiny to the Chancellor. Why must we tolerate these politicians?

     One after another Fleet line was observed, subsumed, re-prioritized, or congratulated. Qa'Pla, he finally began to notice that the office posts of his wives had been fulfilled and that in his brother's absence, his wives filled the second in command vocation by the side of his com chair. Horg MonG-DecH was busy in his own Battle Cruiser on another side of the Empire doing the exact same duty. It was almost strange that it would take two individuals to fill his post, however, the family of MonG-DecH had foreseen this. T'Sha had put her hand on his shoulder and whispered that Horg had signaled some time after Gaardox had blocked the Council's beck and callings. T'Sha had squeezed his shoulder hard when O'Wa'TaQ had leaned into the Chair of Gaardox and suggested that since the supply convey considerations were complete that possibly it would be wise to hail Horg and see how progress was in the Eta Eridani to this regard.

     Laughter filled the bridge of the 'BaQ MonG-DecH'! "It is not possible to imagine the look on the Council Member's face as you have described, and yes, my duties are complete today, thank you for describing why you have secreted your Empirical transmissions." Crew members and officers alike rejoiced in moments like this. Sometimes Klingon supply lines were raided. Sometimes this occurred by the hand of other Klingons. Mercenarial or otherwise, security and Fleet responsiveness had to be the priority. "I suppose they only wanted to accommodate your new rank MAJOR General!" Thunderous laughter. Terribly deafening to those who were not Klingon. Why did Horg always get to tell the joke?

     "Brother once again you are too psychic for your own good, the honor of saying as much was to be mine-no matter-you are my blood!" Having a younger brother was not a particularly savory privilege. However, his family loved him, so did he.

     "My humility to your honor, of course older brother, please allow your non-Klingon officers to have their hearing checked upon your notoriously skilled Gorn medics."

     "Younger brother again you miss the point, Gorn officers are aboard this bridge as well." Gaardox had to admit he was otherwise often enough flabbergasted if it were not for the fact that Horg was a competent Captain, tactician and engineer.

     "Damn another year of lizards smelling deafness toward my direction? I have had enough of this! Pipe me through to your shipboard com at once!" Gaardox complied and Horg explained the joke and the insult and the medical infraction to all aboard both teh 'BaQ MonG-Dech', as well as Horg's own, the 'Dazaqul'. All due to the sake of the mission and the severity of Horg's thoughtlessness, he outdid himself and impressed Gaardox and his immediate family on that bridge to his own satisfaction. For years to come Horg's self criticality and admittance of wrong doing was unfounded in Empirical Fleet history. Few captains would admit such a mistake to their own crew, yet to say anything to the crew of their ranking general. This was not an unusual practice in regard of the telling of victories, or other important revelations. It wasn't really an unusual practice in general, the MonG-DecH family was known for incite-fullness and creativity, although Gaardox himself was often enough seen by individuals as esoteric. The logic of his actions had to be evaluated, over time more and not fewer came to understand the relevance of his otherwise seemingly random methodologies. This one however was all Horg's doing, and of relatively no surprise. There had only been two other such announcements, the ship with dilithium had indeed been secreted to the hidden Klingon Occupational Worker's Union Refinery, and a Fleet scuttling had been thwarted by the use of five cloaked bird's of prey. And related shipments of relevance were not prevented, and were in fact to arrive ahead of schedule, but by now, everyone in the Beta Quadrant would know, that particular battle cruiser had a fleet compliment of five additional vessels. Gaardox noted a deep chuckling amongst his bridge members upon that particular mention. It was an obvious trap for the Nefarious Corporate Oligarchy, mercenaries of bankers, as Horg had noted to further embellish his compliments and to distract from his misuse of tongue. Horg was lauded of course. Gaardox did almost miss his audacity at times however and La'tal's curfew was extended to give toast to her uncle for a fine joke, too good a sixth sense, and excellent and exciting reportage of Fleet Activity. Fourth meal was bloody and alive in more than one parameter. The next day personal reports of such toasting would permeate within the 'BaQ MonG-DecH', and within the Occupational Fleet.

    First morning duty was to report to the Chancellor however. Gaardox did not like to have to confine himself out of his bed to his in-quarter's office, however his wives had an extended rest period and Gaardox was on double duty until all transports of relevance were transpired, and until it could look as if such an event had indeed occurred, which of course was an entirely different chronological proxy. One that he did not mind relating on a secure channel to Jm'Poc.

     "Don't brag to me Gaardox, you have a Captain and a Commander on board. You can make your Occupational appointments look as important as you wish, I will remain unimpressed, except by that of Horgs reportage, those mercenaries were too careless by all regard, that is obvious to even the High Council."

    "DaGott-Jm'Poc, you sound very much like my father..." Gaardox observed grimly.

    "HeH Gaardox, even before lights on ship hours you can compliment an ugly old General..."

    "Perhaps you think I am vain to compliment myself in such a fashion, or that I am ignorant of the fact that you are no longer a General."

    "Don't be wry Gaardox. Such wit is indeed vanity as you suggest."

    "I would NEVER choose to interrupt members of THOSE houses in such a disrespectful manner!"

    "Yes, it comes to me now, they are daft are they not?" That stopped the General coldly. What could he say to that? "Say nothing comrade of the revolution, we are united in many things, and what is not we make up for in compliance to the standards of honor. You are not incorrect."

    "I can only imagine so. You cannot forget that I begged admirals and generals alike to retest the former Chancellor, that the Founders were an inconceivable threat, that we should not be opposed to the clinical findings, and tactical warnings of the Federation in this regard-"

     "Yet are you disappointed Gaardox? Today no one can doubt your concerns." Gaardox named the representative for the council that had insulted him, and he and the Chancellor spoke briefly of that Klingon's house, to no noticeable satisfaction of either of them. Gaardox almost inspired civil war upon his testing requests regarding the former Chancellor and the Founder's doppelganger. "Gaardox, you have not spoken his name yet, you must learn to honor those chosen in Sto-Vo-kor."

     "Chancellor, it defeats all purposes in my mind, that you continued that conflict with Martok. I know he passed all medical exams, and his tactical reasoning was never proven to be driven by xenophobia-"

     "Fair enough, MARTOK, was to his own degree honorable, say nothing more then. His death is not by my wishing either, I can only say that much, and this is not the first time we have discussed this. Gaardox we will discuss the inept behavior of the High Council, the unscrupulous behavior of the House of Duras, how it effected the houses of Martok and Mogue, and how it effects us all, perhaps their impropriety - the council member's rude detachment is a form of racism against you, or perhaps classism - I may not be the psychic your brother is, yet I can tell what you must think at times. Factually we pressed you too hard in your empirical tactical research to accommodate you into Empirical Generality if you will excuse the pun. We in no way or formation were to guild you towards immaculate indemnity. We can't have every single anarchist simply announce a General decree off the top of their proclivity. I recall you relate to those factions, yet are merely affiliated, nothing more...That isn't relevant, what is relevant is that you and your allies proved that members of the Corporate Oligarchy committed enslavement to Klingon citizens, in a move of respite, this 'economic inequality' you and your allies so rally against...we will be having less of that for the future and sanctity of the Empire, I can assure you. The High Council has an even dimmer view of such behaviors and inequities than I or YOU! As hard as it might be to believe, you are right, we must strive against the Borg, forge alliances against that faction, end the civil wars and inner turmoil within the Empire, recuperate and ecosynthesize war torn planets, your assistance, the assistance of your Occupation is appreciated by all Gaardox, not just by those in your alliance network. Just be cautious, I will let it be known to the High Council that your business at this time is an empirical priority. Don't openly oppose them, just ignore them until you arrive back on Qo'Nos. Qa'Pla." Gaardox could only be moved to be stunned in a poignant manner after such an empirical diatribe.

     It was sometimes better if the Chancellor was angry or had ordered some kind of recall or re-premonition. Gaardox had his own standing order. His own. From his own tactical consideration to the best of his own rationality, with his own advisers, and officers. Only the Chancellor could appropriate Gaardox to the vacuum of space in such a way. Nothing, nothing at all, an Empire of nothing, and Gaardox owned it all. In his own facility Gaardox had created this himself. He should be pleased, instead he only saw it as another example of the frailty of the political council. He wondered if the council would hold their pledge against the criminality of the Corporate Oligarchy? For once he feared civil war. Not when he knew for certain that Martok was an imposter, not during the occupational 'hazards' during warfare, not during diplomatic considerations against the Gorn Hegemony, and rarely during fighting against the Dominion or the Cardasians. Even when facing a Federation fleet, he calmly took to protocol and worked on a diplomatic solution. A much dire enemy was the enemy of the enemy, the Borg Initiative carved out certain exacting latitudes, and Horg's engineers were making progress with Borg technology. "No fear, they are the Borg they will be deassimilated!" He had informed the Federation Admiral, Gaardox's two battle cruisers and the five vessels of the Federation. When the temporary border dispute had been agreed upon he was later callously complimented on Qo'Nos as being compliant of order #535963, the preservation of Borg Initiative Protocal standards. As inglorious as it was, it was the correct decision, and the brother's MonG-DecH lived to face those Federation ships against a common foe, which was his Empirical designation and right of succession. No one would argue law against that fact. 

     In such a right he ordered his captain to helm, and Gaardox joined his wives in rest.

     He took a late position on his shift and followed through with his duties eventually conceding to the fact that he preferred to his own wives as commanders-gender equality being especially attractive to female Klingons, he would be mercilessly complimented at a later time. In the month that followed, twice his wives commanded birds of prey for various duties following through with Occupational shipment protocols. In one victory an entire ship had been seized by his wives use of tractor beams and the 'BaQ MonG-DecH' torpedoes. Horg being innovative, had found a way to cloak a shipment deployment vessel and innocuously conducted scientific research in an adjacent sector while playing cat and mouse games with an apposing mercenarial fleet.

     There were more minor victories during this time. La'tal had finished her section of study so she went on to combat training, which was actually overdue in a sense. Not being the only person her age on board was a broadening experience for her, and her family members were once again treated like Klingons due to her appreciation. La'tal had transferred to Horg's ship, as he started the mission earlier and would arrive back earlier, La'tal could take this opportunity to learn the complicated fundamentals of engineering. Those lessons would reflect well on Horg and La'tal alike for lifetimes to come.

     The council did not again respond, and this was well enough, although nothing came direct from the chancellor again, and that was even better.

     There was some bad news, the engineers who had installed phaser cannons at the community stronghold of his family had not been paid. Every so often defense upgrades must be maintained. Since he could not communicate with offices of the Council, he could not pass on the expense either. He would have to pay the minimal fee in immediacy and be reimbursed by the empire at a later time, which was not good equity.

     Gaardox has no physical office outside of his ships or family house. He had to conduct his affairs with the council personally as the ship was in arrival procedure. He was able to join his wives and greet his daughter and parents, however he had to return to the capital afterwards for reimbursement purposes and to make appointment with the very same council person who was apparently still capable of putting him off.

     Gaardox had been sitting at this particular office for five minutes. He had ordered, the standing lieutenant to remove the media device from the wall. It was funny walking into these offices. A notorious General of the Occupation in full KDF fleet armor barging through every en-pass of this council office, he could put fear into the hearts of all Klingons, until it was time to politely sit at the office couch and wait for his appointment. The media monitor had been blarthing on about Occupational victories in the Teu Dewa, [still named Theta Eridani in common Klingon,] Gaardox was so bored of the Tal Shiar. At this point in time the Empire tolerated them and nothing more, the Tal Shiar disgrace themselves-Romulan Republicans will not tolerate them! Listening to the reportage of Borg technology being sold in the Nequencia system was interesting until the reporter took liberties to describe the technology being sold.

     "If I can fabricate it in my father's engineering laboratory, then it is no longer Borg technology!" The lieutenant chuckled at this. Things were likely to be adequate today, but not if the monitor should remain.

     Then Gaardox was forced to concede to the digitally written media. Blarth!

     The lieutenant received a signal on his desk monitor, then he typed something. He stood and requested the General's side arm and any other weapons. Today Gaardox had a side arm, a phaser rifle, his knife, and his bat'lith. The Bat'lith belonged to his father, was not merely ornamental, and Gaardox's own was hanging in his father's house. Since his wives and his daughter had never missioned together this was an occasion for honor, so he explained to the lieutenant.

     "Honestly the council member, your employment figurehead, was so rude to me I could kill him with my bare hands, it just might sound to you like a cliche however, I will advise you not to be involved with an internal conflict should one occur." Gaardox was really bored now, it was respectful to warn the lieutenant, not that that Klingon was a spring Targ, however this could have been handled delicately at a distance, in a more appropriate fashion. Gaardox sat on the couch again and looked exasperated. He then went so far to explain, as the lieutenant placed his weapons on his desk, that he hadn't been on planet for more than a day actually. Luckily he had plenty of fresh air,  jet lag just isn't a Klingon concept regarding space travel in the 25th century, or at least is would be so rarely given technological advances. Gaardox in earnest read through a parenting journal, one that professed some academic background, and he found that it was not especially counter-intuitive to said regard. After a time the Lieutenant stood and announced the council member.

    "Gonzl'HuT Targ of the House of Targ..."

    "Qa'Pla."

    "Qa'Pla." Gaardox stood looked at Gonzl'HuT, and standing referred back to his article. "It seems that families that recycle or reclaim their cleaning water have more communal harmony, ah, and you missed it, black marketeering is on the rise in the Theta Eridani sector. You can purchase a Borg toaster if you wish..." Gaardox again looked at the councilperson and held his thumb on the page pause of his written media device. MonG-DecH mentioned as such with no sense of harmony or irony. His sarcasm was raw and dry with not a hint of deference.

     "General Gaardox HeH HeT MonG-DecH, you will submit to a retinal scan."

     "Ergh-putaq, I am in battle uniform, alarms would have been committed here were it not for that fact, my communications device is likely being monitored by your sensors!"

     "General, this is not a battle cruiser, our devices are limited to media and marginal scanning, as well as our imagination and observations." Gaardox removing his thumb from the media device had to submit to such a scan.

     After the retinal examination the Lieutenant was taken to a different waiting area, so he assumed. Once in the smaller room with no media other than what he had brought with him from the assembly area of the office, he realized, without telling him any details at all about why he was being called upon, he was in captivity. As the lieutenant closed the door Gaardox caught on and laughed a hearty laugh, he was uncertain who was to die today. The door obviously had a magnetized locking device that closed soundlessly in a suspicious manner that would otherwise seem to defy the laws of physics.

     "What an idiot!" Gaardox mused. He sat, got comfortable. He finished the article. Apparently Klingon families that raise targ, and grow or raise food for the animals that targ eat, are the most well educated, and well adjusted members of Klingon society. They are more relaxed, less stressed, more competent warriors, more creative engineers, more tactically logical, have a higher self conception of honor and have more fun at parties.

     "My family is doomed..." Thought Gaardox.

     Once finished with the media article, and rather than simply find the next most interesting factoid, he used his wrist bracer communication device and used the existing computer system in the building to contact the chancellor on his private data channel.

     "He really is a son of a targ..."

     "I haven't bothered to check the door, I must assume that it is magnetically sealed however. There is one other thing, it has come to my attention that the council offices and this building's security system are quite substandard."

     "Qa'Pla Gaardox." With that Gaardox smugly took a nap.

     Gaardox awoke to the typicality of his station. J'mPec had arrived and was berating the councilor Gonzl'HuT Targ of Targ. There was a large beeping noise and the door of his cell glowed red hot. There was a pause. After the pause J'mPec went into a much more pronounced diatribe with inflection and particular consideration to Targ husbandry in a kind of intended strata regarding biology and physiological inheritance. Apparently the lieutenant had misread the chancellor, and the cell door would soon cool and open automatically.

    "Oh look, such a hero's welcome! This treatment to an Occupation GENERAL! You have some nerve and some delusion of your station! Gonzl'Hut Targ of Targ House, tell the General what you have unceremoniously announced to me earlier." Again the berating was better at a distance, Gaardox was certain that his own admonishments had similar capacity, so he was best to quietly observe and learn should he someday wrongly insult a lower ranked officer. "TELL HIM NOW!"

     "Gaardox HeT HeH Mong-Dech, son of Mong-Dech, and general to the Empire, specific to the Occupation forces, you are now commended in rank, before the Chancellor, with full merit and approval of the Council, to the rank of Major General."

     "His name is HeH HeT MonG-DecH, so named after the other celestials Cthulu...a vicious creature...a fair name for a Klingon who's primary duty during the Occupation was killing mercenaries hired by factions allied to your House! He became bored with the uselessness of defeating Klingon life and began to take prisoners instead. Tell me Gaardox, how many Corporate Mercenaries did your alliance eventually converge?"

     "This number is in the millions J'mPoc, I almost always have to review this, the number is always being updated. Myself, I estimate that I shared the responsibility of saving a few million Klingon lives in those conflicts. Some became conditional members of the Occupation forces."

     "Son of the House of Targ, how many of Km'Pec's alliance members did die in your House's name during his beguilement? HOW MANY?" Gaardox looked at the Son of a Targ wryly and calculated this number by using his communication device, linked to his media device, which he still had at hand. Scrutinizing the media device he chuckled to himself and then faced the device outwards, so even the lowly lieutenant could read it. The article had a plain, although obviously dated casualty number related to this military incident. It had been profoundly noted that the House of Targ acted without regard during the hostilities between Gowron and Km'Pec factions, and that the House of Targ had been especially brutal. The Chancellor grabbed the datafile on the General from the council member, signed it in an amazing display of codex, [this is a code that only the Chancellor could have,] and handed it to the General.

     "Qa'Pla Gaardox, your family is outside waiting in your family vehicle. Apparently you have two birds of prey in orbit, so we had to wait for transport, however I am told you slept soundly," J'mPoc at times like this would chuckle whenever MonG-DecH exhibited crass behavior, not this time.

     "I always sleep through jet lag."

     "BaH, it no longer exists Gaardox, its only a psycho-somatism. I must further reprimand the council member, my elite guard have Occupied the building son of MonG-DecH, tell your newest engineer that my nephew will be calling her in light of her newly founded education in engineering."

     "Indeed, it has become the talk of the galaxy." This time J'mPoc laughed aloud, grateful also for a real empirical focus of relevance.

     "Qa'Pla J'mPoc."

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