"Mostly due to their positions, but none of them can be ruled out. Klingons are always interested in their own personal honour and prestige. Excepting the gods, of course, although the Dahar Master claims to speak for them," she comments wryly.

In reply to Cdr. Samantha Vaughn (msg # 32):

“Was there anything out of the ordinary in the rise to power of the Captain or Commander? Knowing how long the BortaS has been here they must be 2nd generation, possibly eldest of eldest of eldest of 3rd generation.   I would have thought the captain would have been older.“ As he looks around the room and also tries to place Cdr. Vaughn.

“Also is 93DIS long life or does it happen?“

"Doesn't seem to be anything odd, and as for Qolor's age, he's quite old—one hundred and forty-four standard years—but Klingons remain vital well into old age. For instance, Dahar Master Kor was one hundred DIS when he went to Sto-vo-kor, and only at the end did he go into a mental decline, but still died in battle against the Jem'Hadar," replies K'Pok. "He even gained General Martok's respect at the end.

"Dahar Master is the title given to the best Klingon warriors. These warriors are considered to have attained legendary status. Dahar Masters are respected by all, and the tales of their exploits are often repeated in stories, songs, and operas. Tactical officer Sogh [Lieutenant] Qolor was awarded the title of DaHar Master by HoD Qor'tathl, the original captain of the IKV BortaS after quelling a mutiny some years after the crash-landing. Qolor defeated the chief mutineer in single combat, armed with only a levek [Hubbeq for dk'tagh] against a bat'leth. Qolor had previously destroyed three Romulan Birds-of-Prey during their exfiltration from the Star Empire after seizing the Vulcan Tokath, so Qor'tathl already held him in high esteem.

"However, his title of DaHar Master is somewhat irregular, never having been ratified, so it is possible—repeat: only possible— that Qolor fears losing status. Alternatively, Klong may likewise fear loss of the absolute power he wields among the BortaSngan, or Kresh may be planning a takeover. We don't know. We'll be mingling among the city's populace to feel things out and if possible contact and infiltrate the conspiracy."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:04, Tue 07 Aug 2018.

In reply to Cdr. K'Pok (msg # 34):

"Are there any influential people among the general populace we should seek out?" Jon asks, looking for a place to start. "Somebody that we can, in our assumed positions, more easily come in contact with?"

K'Pok replies, "Well, zan [mister] J'dik, we have a meeting to go to this eventide at the Khest'sliv [Slow Death], a vis'lkah [grog] house in the lower quarter, where the komerex the'Durgath [Empire of the House of Durgath]—a fundamentalist sect of worship and a known resistance cell—meets.

"It's one reason I mentioned the Dahar Master, since he's high priest of one of Durgath's avatars."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:12, Sun 22 July 2018.

Cdr. Vaughn notes, "You're using an anomalous dialect, Lieutenants. TlhIngan Hubbeq is a modified version of Klingonaase [Klingonese], used in the IKS, which has been heavily influenced by tlhIngan Hol. It's not a real problem in the short run, since you're hicks from the sticks, but we'll run a refresher course of your hypnogogic training over the next two nights."

In reply to Cdr. Samantha Vaughn (msg # 37):

"Refresher course?!" Jon snaps out angrily. "We just finished our training. Why wasn't it done correctly the first time?"

Jon is wary of having to endure another round of hynogogic hangovers. He takes a deep breath to recenter himself.

"Does this also mean, sir," he adds more calmly, "that we won't be starting the core of our mission for another 2 nights?"

Vaughn rolls her eyes and snarls in English, "Some peckerhead at HQ fucked the dog. They ass-umed that the BortaSngan are physiologically identical to the citizens of the Imperial Klingon State, they must be culturally and linguistically identical as well. I smell Worf's hand in this—he's biologically Klingon, but was raised in the Federation. You'll note he has an idealised notion of bathl [honour], which is quite at odds to reality. He's only Ambassador because he put Martok in office and is bosom buddies with Kahless the clone. He was a bang-up Tactical Officer, but puts way too much faith in what Picard taught him about diplomacy. Bloody ivory tower dilettante!" she finishes, referring to Picard.

"G'daya [goddamn it!], Jo'vinn!" K'Pok snaps. "Klingonaase only! She's right, though. Some khestat [absolutely fucking worthless piece of shit] diplomat screwed up, but not fatally. You caught it in time, Jo'vinn. That's what counts. Since the War ended, everything's been totally shaken up. Ours not to reason why, ours but to do and die... Tennyson should have been a Klingon," he muses.

"Still," interjects Vaughn, "We've got that gagny [damned] meeting tonight. We'll just have to hesta [do by force of will] on!"

She opens a chest against the wall and takes out a small case. Placing it on the table, she presses he left thumb against a concealed bioscan pad and the lid pops open, revealing a selection of cheap jewelry.

"Here, each of you take one of these. They're universal translators which will feed directly to your mastoid implants. We'd hoped not to have to use anything like this in case the resistance is receiving outside help with modern technology, but they've only got a range of less than a metre. They'll do until the refresher takes effect. You're all pretty smart, so you'll be able to pick up the local vocabulary on the fly—I hope. Wear them around your necks." She passes each officer a pendant.

A few hours later, more briefings on specific aspects of their mission completed, Cdr. K'Pok leads the team out into the agora, the central marketplace. There, they are assaulted almost physically, by unfamiliar scents and the babble of hundreds of vendors and customers. Armed and armoured guards lurk in the shadows, a visible presence to quell any disturbances. The clothing of passers-by is a riot of colour, almost psychedelic in its overall effect. In the central plaza, a pair of thieves stand in stocks, miserable not only from the public dishonour but from the odd piece of rotten fruit thrown by taunting onlookers.

As the daylight begins to fade due to the polarisation of the upper atmosphere, torches are lit along the winding streets of veng BortaS, lending a dim series of yellowish flickering light. The central Dyson star becomes as sallow as a full moon, bluish in colour against a sooty sky. The people in the agora carry on business just as if night had fallen on a planetary surface. Having grabbed the local version of street food at a stall.

"Come!" urges K'Pok, "We must hurry—it's just about time for the meeting." He leads the team down a dark alley-way to a nondescript door and raps three times. A sliding panel about the size of a small PADD opens, revealing a head silhouetted against a dim red light. K'Pok says conspiratorially, "The watchword is 'Kahlesste kaase' [Kahless's hand]," and the panel slides shut. The noise of a bolt being drawn presages the opening of the door.

A robed male Klingon ushers them in with a hushed "Kai kassai [Hail]," and the group enters a downward-sloping tunnel. An incense similar to Earth's dragon's blood resin, redolent of hot iron, fills their nostils. After about twenty metres, they come to an iron-bound door of dark weathered planks flanked by two torches and K'Pok knocks three times, then two ant three again. a bolt is drawn and the door opens on a scene out of Hieronymous Bosch. They are in a vast vaulted-arched chamber lit by torches and braziers in which the incense is burning. A few dozen Klingons of both genders mill about chatting quietly and reverently. In front of the small crowd is a low stone platform with long reddish tapestries displaying the Imperial trefoil in bright colours. The central disc is an ochre gold while the three points are black, red and green.

A deep voice rings out, "ChegHchu djajVam djajKak [It is a good day to die]!" and the trefoil on the tapestry splits in two revealing a tall, long-haired Klingon with light skin dressed in ceremonial robes. "I am the Durgathte kaase [Hand of Durgath]. Kai Durgath [Hail Durgath]!"

The assembled crowd raises their fists and shout, "Kai Durgath!"
This message was last edited by the player at 04:13, Mon 30 July 2018.

The Durgathte kaase throws a small pile of dark red crystals onto a brazier and a cloud of the 'aDanjI' incense rises into the air. "The Imperials wish to alter our genetic structure with a vaccine. We are Klingon! There is no reason to submit to this genetic engineering. We are Klingons! We worship the old gods. They are apostates, and we must return to Klinzhai—Qo'noS in their barbaric tongue—and bring the word of Durgath, the giver and taker of life and Cymele, goddess of the hearth; of Kar-tela, goddess of fate and Kohl, patron of medicine; of Tuq'mor, mother of all curses and of Consar, the muse of music! They say Kortar slew the old gods save for the Fek'lhr guardian of Grethor, the underworld. Blasphemy, I say!" he says, his deep voice rumbling in a crescendo which has the worshipers in this Klingon Mithraium yelling, "Kai kassai!" and waving their leveks [dk'taghs] in the air.

"They say Kahless the Unforgettable is back from Sto-vo-kor! We must reawaken the belief in the Klingon gods in his heart so that he may restore the true glory of the Empire! Like his namesake Kahless epetai-Riskadh, we must bind his hand to the tiller of the Komerex Klingon [Klingon Empire] so that he may guide it to its destiny! Kahlesste kaase! Kai kassai! Kai Kahless! So may it be!"

By the end of his speech, his face is red, sweat rolls down his brow and the crowd is going wild. "I am told there is peace with the Komerex Federazhon [Federation Empire]," he says, provoking a number of catcalls and the equivalent of booing. He raises his hand. "Enough!" he thunders. "The Federazhon has always been a brave and worthy adversary and will make an ally befitting the Empire! Together, we will resist the pathetic, mewling Romulans and crush them beneath our heel. We will defeat the Kinshaya demons! We will send them all to Kragyr [Hell] to be tormented by the Fek'lhr and his Jat'linn [spirits who torment the dishonoured dead] Kai! Kai kassai!"

The Durgathte kaase steps off the dais and strides to the centre of the vaulted cavern and approaches a cauldron of teaming mulled bloodwine and grabs a stein, plunging it into the fuming red liquid. "Kai kassai!" he growls and knock back the entire stein, bloodwine trickling down his goatee. "Drink, my brethren, drink!" he yells, tossing his stein into the crowd and passing others to the assembled, cheering Klingon men and women.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:35, Sun 05 Aug 2018.

In reply to Relic GM (msg # 41):

Jon makes a show of cheering with the rest of the crowd, though privately he thinks he's been dropped into an insane asylum.

"I'm pretty sure we've found the nexus of the resistance!" he mutters quietly to Tony, who is standing next to him. "This 'Durgathte kaase', he must be some sort of spokesperson for that 150 year old priest. I wonder who is really running the show!"

Jon and Tony join the bloodwine throng. Jon would like to knock back his stein like all the others, but is not sure of his capacity.

Tony replies, "Gee, ya think? This Durgath is just another name for that One Who Doesn't Care character the old codger worships, after all." He drains his bloodwine and belches loudly.

Talja grimaces at the sour taste of the cheap bloodwine. "I'm not so sure, J'koq. He seems to actively want to rejoin the Empire so they can proselytise their religion. They just don't see why they should alter their phenotype. I get the impression the group we're looking for is more violently opposed to what they call Imperials."

Tony nudges Zed. "What do you think, Boss?"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:00, Tue 07 Aug 2018.

In reply to Lt (jg) 'Fast Tony' Gazzo (msg # 43):

Jon is not convinced by Talja argument. "I think that impression is just a front to obscure a more violent undercurrent, Atsash. Hiding in plain sight, as it were. All we need to do is dig a bit deeper."

Jon takes another swig of bloodwine. "Bah! Maybe you are right!" he exclaims, laughing. "Any rebellion worth its salt would have better grog!"

A Klingon man with an ugly scar bisecting his face diagonally wanders up and says, "Kai thelerrin [young woman - equivalent to 'babe' when used colloquially]. New in town? I got something better than this gozhe [shit]! Got me some twelve DIS old dreton [a fermented fruit drink]. Want a slug? He pulls a flask from beneath his tunic.

Tony steps up and says, "The lady's with me!" firmly.

The lout, who seems to have already imbibed more than his share, replies with a sneer, "aack [an expression of disgust]<b>! And that concerns me how,chowIQpu' [an insulting epithet]? I'm taking to the thelerrin, kuveleta ["Servitor's half-child" A biting insult]."

In reply to Relic GM (msg # 45):

Jon, alarmed by the situation, steps in front of the drunken lout, blocking his view of Tony and Talja.

"You have some twelve DIS old dreton?!" he exclaims brightly. "That's amazing! Where did you get it?" Jon has no idea if distraction and diversion works on drunken Klingons, but he figures it is worth a shot.

The drunken Klingon snarls,"Oh, now the kuveleta's tokhe straav' ['willing slave' - a killing insult] speaks up! What idiot let these animals in here? Krilg epetai Dokor [epetai - a title of high social rank, a lord] was right. T'scha! [hell no!] This bunch of mewling cowards is going to roll over and let the Komerex Federazhon [Federation Empire] walk all over us and turn us into gutless straav' [slaves] like the khest'n [fucking] Imperials!

He reaches past Jon and grabs Talja roughly by the arm. "C'mon, little thelerrin, I'll show you what real Klingons are! We ain't gonna let no Federazhon-lovers tinker with our genes!"

In reply to Relic GM (msg # 47):

Jon, sensing that the drunken Klingon is off-balance as he reaches for Talja, steps to one side and grabs him by the arm, roughly pulling him in the direction he is leaning (being sure not to send him careening into Talja at the same time). As the Klingon stumbles past, Jon trips him up in hopes of sending him sprawling on the ground.

As Jon pulls the Klingon off balance, Talja pulls her arm free a spin-kicks him in the back of the head, sending him into the crowd, who are just now noticing the altercation. She picks up the flask and pulls out the stopper, pouring the sticky amber liquid on his head. As the surrounding Klingons break into cheers for her and jeers for her would-be molester, she steps over—well,actually on—his prone body towards her new admirers.

"Aydutywa [unwanted one]," she snarls in answer to his moans. "Kai J'dik! His attention was... unwanted." She bares her teeth menacingly.

The Durgathte kaase steps up and takes her by the shoulders and holds her at arm's length,, looking her up and down, finally making direct eye contact. "What is your name, thelerrin [using it in its literal sense, a younger female of a household]?" He asks.

"Atsash of the House of Goral, my lord," she says, meeting his gaze defiantly.

"Atsash, thelerrin of the House of Goral! Kai kassai! You are a true daughter of Cymele, goddess of the hearth and protector of women, consort of Durgath! I am Aron, the Hand of Durgath—and who are your stalwart companions?" he asks.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:42, Sat 01 Sept 2018.

In reply to Lt (jg) Talja Groen (msg # 49):

Jon waits for Tony to introduce himself, and then growls out "J'dik, son of Shacx! I found your speech inspiring!" Jon then adds, "If I may say so, not all did!" Jon waves dismissively at the figure on the ground.

Tony snaps to attention and says, "J'koq, son of Mraz, sir!", placing his right fist over his heart in an old-style Klingon salute.

"K'Pok, son of Morgh," replies the Commander. "And this," he says, gesturing at Zed, "is VanolS, son of N’reB.“ Commander Vaughn has disappeared into the crowd.

"Welcome to the komerex the'Durgath," says A'ron. "This," he says, kicking the unconscious drunk in the ribs hard enough to crack a few, "is unknown to me, save that he's been hanging around for the last two meetings. He talks big , but is no match for a true Klingon warrior woman." He grins broadly at Talja, who smiles demurely (for a Klingon, anyway).

"Come, you must join me in my chambers. I have some mulled warnog heating, or if you prefer, a pot of raktajino. I am curious about you—most of the rabble here come only for the free bloodwine, but you seem to fave fire in your guts! We need more like you in the komerex the'Durgath! This way..." He ushers the team onto the dais and through the door behind the tapestry. A murmur of puzzlement from the crowd follows them.

Aron leads them up a spiral staircase into a spacious circular room lit by oil lamps which lend a warm light to the scene. He removes the heavy ceremonial robe and hangs it on a stand in the centre, kicks off his boots and goes over to a samovar against the wall. Opening a cupboard, he takes out a collection of metal mugs of ancient Klingon design and turns the petcock on the samovar. A cloud of spicy steam rises from the stream of mulled warnog. He hands the mugs around and motions the five Starfleet officers to sit.

"So," he says, settling into a worn overstuffed leather armchair, "From whence do you come? I don't place your dialect and accent, though young Atsash is most pleasing to the eye."

K'Pok says, "My young friends here are travellers from the HuSnang province, many kellicamsdistant. Zan J'dik, why don't you tell the Durgathte kaase about yourselves?"

"Aron will do," insists the Durgathte kaase. "Please, young J'Dik, I am eager to hear of your journey."

In reply to Relic GM (msg # 52):

"There is not much to say, my lord," J'dik (Jon) says, not yet comfortable using Aron's familiar name. "I am a minor trader, as my father before me. It is an honourable life, and I am proud of my family! But something was missing, and I felt a pull towards BortaS City. I am on a quest, to find my true calling!

"My companions and I," J'dik gestures to the others, "have had adventures on our journey here. But, until tonight, I felt no fire in my heart."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:29, Sat 08 Sept 2018.

In reply to Lt (jg) Jonathan Clare (msg # 53):

Zed step forwards and to places his fist over his heart to salute Dargathte.   “We are more interested in you and your following. We have been looking forward to hearing your story .”

Aron says, "But I am interested in how you came to visit our meeting. We are, of course, eager for new members, but we must be cautious as HoD Klong does not approve of those who are skeptical of his great plan to 'cure' us and take his place on Klinzhai [the Klingonaase name for Qo'noS] as a sycophant to the High Council and their puppet Emperor, this clone of Kahless." He spits on the floor in disgust. "Still, we are interested in joining the Empire once more, but with our heads held high. We are Klingons. We will not be bred as pets. What say you?"

In reply to Relic GM (msg # 55):

"We hear you!" exclaims Jon. "Although our far-away families may appear humble and unsophisticated compared to those of veng BortaS, we are not! We proudly share a culture of honour that must not be simply cast aside. I admit some puzzlement as to why we should even seek to join the Empire, if they want to suffocate us and everything we are!"