Aggressive Negotiations. SW/SW
Posted: Wed May 26, 2010 9:14 pm
Okay, here is another spinoff from 'Where No Jedi Has Gone Before'. It takes place two years after part one of 'Gone Before' and one year after 'Measure of a Droid'.
Here we go!
*****
Chapter One: First Impressions, First Disaster
2378/Stardate 55264.9/26 years after the Battle of Yavin
The sun rose over the First city of the Klingon Empire, turning the Qam-Chee River crimson with its rays. Merchants opened their shops along streets that were already filling with foot traffic and speeders. The Great Hall's doors opened, a symbolic gesture of hiding nothing and showing their 'honesty' to the galaxy at large.
At the center of the Great Hall, two dozen Klingon senators walked into the main hall and stood before a steel-gray throne. Each one wore the ceremonial metal robes of their office and were unarmed save for a ceremonial d'k tagh knife holstered at their belt. At precisely 800 hours local time, a burly Klingon swathed in the cloak of office approached the throne from behind and walked up the steps to it.
Chancellor Martok, son of Urthog, turned and sat down, grunting and looking out at the assembled councilors with his one good eye. "I call this meeting of the Klingon High Council to order!" he shouted, banging on his armrest. A smile crossed his face. "Well, as much order as a group of Klingons can muster," he said, his smile turning into a grin. He pulled a PADD out from a band on his cloak and touched the screen, scrolling through its contents. "Now to the first order of business..."
Several hours passed as edicts and orders were given. Reports from General Goluk, head of the Defense Force and other top warriors were heard. Councilors talked of laws and amendments. After lunch, petitioners were let in to be heard.
The back of the High Council parted slightly, allowing those with enough clout or with big enough problems to speak to the High Council. Four humanoids in brown robes reaching down to right above the ground approached, hoods covering their heads. The lead one reached up and pulled his hood back, revealing a human male with green eyes and long black hair tied into a ponytail. He looked up at Martok and bowed his head. "Chancellor Martok, I am Kyp Durron, Jedi Master from the New Republic." He motioned to the others, who took off their hoods. "May I introduce Miko Reglia, Ganner Rhysode and Wurth Skidder?"
There was silence for a moment before Martok leaned forward, looking down slightly at the Jedi. "And?" he asked, waving at Kyp. "Is this some sort of diplomatic entreaty? Are we supposed to be impressed by you in some fashion?"
Kyp's eyes narrowed. "From what we've heard from the Federation, Klingons prefer actions to words." He pushed back his robe, reaching up and unclasping it from around his neck and letting it drop to the stone floor. He stood in the middle of the Great Hall, bare arms rippling with muscle. His right hand dangled near his belt and the lightsaber clipped to it. "So, Chancellor. Shall I act?"
One of the councilors snorted and crossed his thick arms over a barrel-like chest, almost bursting from his armor. "Act? Be silent, child. Your posturing does little to endear the New Republic to us. At least the Remnant sent someone qualified for negotiations."
Kyp's spine bristled as he wheeled around on his heel to face the councilor, but Wurth suddenly spoke up. "The Remnant?" he half-shouted, turning his head and locking piercing eyes onto the Councilor. "I thought you folks had more honor than that!"
A low growl escaped the Councilor's mouth, rumbling up from his throat. He unsheathed his knife and slid a switch on it, causing two secondary blades to spring forth along the main blade. He waved his d'k tahg around stepping forward. "No one insults Gartul, son of Ver'kel!"
Wurth smirked and unclasped his robe, letting it fall to the floor. His lightsaber sprang from his belt to his hand, igniting with a snap-hiss. He held the orange blade up in a one-handed grip. "You really don't want to do this," he said, waving his other hand and reaching out with the Force.
Kyp shook his head. "Wurth, don't do this," he barked. He held up his hands. "We don't want to fight, Councilor."
Gartul bared his sharpened teeth as he waved his knife back and forth, advancing upon Wurth. "To a Klingon, all life is battle!" He bent his legs at the knee slightly and spread his legs apart, clenching his free hand. "Come on, boy! Let us see what a spoon bender can do against a real warrior!"
Wurth walked over, closing the distance with Gartul. He rolled his shoulders and swung his lightsaber at Gartul's right hand, aiming for the blade. "Don't say-" He stopped talking and his mouth dropped in surprise when his plasma blade hit the d'k tahg and stopped, bouncing off slightly. "What the kriff?"
Gartul's face nearly split in half as he grinned, glancing down at his knife. "Hah! Seems your fancy laser swords aren't as good as an old-fashioned knife." He suddenly moved, advancing upon Wurth with speed that belied his size. He parried away the plasma blade before thrusting his free hand out, hitting the younger and smaller human in the face with an unblocked palm strike right to the face.
Wurth flew back, blood streaming from his mashed nose. He struck the rough stone floor, skidding a half-meter before stopping. He groaned and blinked twice. "That went well..." he groaned, wiping at his nose. He suddenly looked up as his danger sense flared. Gartul loomed over him, knife hand twitching. "Oh, shavit..."
Gartul leaned forward, but stopped when twin snap-hisses filled the air, followed by the whine of lightsabers. "Not very honorable," he said as Ganner and Miko stood behind him, blades aimed at his neck.
Ganner snarled. "Touch him and there's gonna be an emergency vote for a new councilor," he said through clenched teeth.
Kyp held up a hand and stepped forward. "Ganner, Miko, stand down. Now."
Miko glanced to the side with his dark eyes. "Kyp, he's gonna-"
"STAND DOWN!" Kyp bellowed, his face flushing. He locked his flashing green eyes on Gartul. "Although if you do harm Wurth, it will be the last mistake you ever make."
Wurth cleared his throat. "I appreciate this, guys, but I got myself into this mess. I'll get myself out." He looked up at the Klingon towering over him and leaned forward. "Ready?"
Gartul chuckled, then sheathed his knife. He looked down at Wurth and extended his hand. "There'd be no honor in killing you, Wurth Skidder." He grasped a shocked Wurth and hauled him to his feet. "Interesting weapon, there. You built it yourself?"
Wurth nodded, his mouth hanging open.
Kyp looked to Martok as he sat, grinning on his throne. "Typical for the High Council?" He straightened up and placed his hands on his hips. "We're here to talk, not fight."
Martok shook his head and peered at the young man with his one good eye. "We are Klingons, Master Durron. We can do both!" He leaned forward and the grin dropped away. "Welcome to the Klingon Empire."
*****
Please read and review.
Here we go!
*****
Chapter One: First Impressions, First Disaster
2378/Stardate 55264.9/26 years after the Battle of Yavin
The sun rose over the First city of the Klingon Empire, turning the Qam-Chee River crimson with its rays. Merchants opened their shops along streets that were already filling with foot traffic and speeders. The Great Hall's doors opened, a symbolic gesture of hiding nothing and showing their 'honesty' to the galaxy at large.
At the center of the Great Hall, two dozen Klingon senators walked into the main hall and stood before a steel-gray throne. Each one wore the ceremonial metal robes of their office and were unarmed save for a ceremonial d'k tagh knife holstered at their belt. At precisely 800 hours local time, a burly Klingon swathed in the cloak of office approached the throne from behind and walked up the steps to it.
Chancellor Martok, son of Urthog, turned and sat down, grunting and looking out at the assembled councilors with his one good eye. "I call this meeting of the Klingon High Council to order!" he shouted, banging on his armrest. A smile crossed his face. "Well, as much order as a group of Klingons can muster," he said, his smile turning into a grin. He pulled a PADD out from a band on his cloak and touched the screen, scrolling through its contents. "Now to the first order of business..."
Several hours passed as edicts and orders were given. Reports from General Goluk, head of the Defense Force and other top warriors were heard. Councilors talked of laws and amendments. After lunch, petitioners were let in to be heard.
The back of the High Council parted slightly, allowing those with enough clout or with big enough problems to speak to the High Council. Four humanoids in brown robes reaching down to right above the ground approached, hoods covering their heads. The lead one reached up and pulled his hood back, revealing a human male with green eyes and long black hair tied into a ponytail. He looked up at Martok and bowed his head. "Chancellor Martok, I am Kyp Durron, Jedi Master from the New Republic." He motioned to the others, who took off their hoods. "May I introduce Miko Reglia, Ganner Rhysode and Wurth Skidder?"
There was silence for a moment before Martok leaned forward, looking down slightly at the Jedi. "And?" he asked, waving at Kyp. "Is this some sort of diplomatic entreaty? Are we supposed to be impressed by you in some fashion?"
Kyp's eyes narrowed. "From what we've heard from the Federation, Klingons prefer actions to words." He pushed back his robe, reaching up and unclasping it from around his neck and letting it drop to the stone floor. He stood in the middle of the Great Hall, bare arms rippling with muscle. His right hand dangled near his belt and the lightsaber clipped to it. "So, Chancellor. Shall I act?"
One of the councilors snorted and crossed his thick arms over a barrel-like chest, almost bursting from his armor. "Act? Be silent, child. Your posturing does little to endear the New Republic to us. At least the Remnant sent someone qualified for negotiations."
Kyp's spine bristled as he wheeled around on his heel to face the councilor, but Wurth suddenly spoke up. "The Remnant?" he half-shouted, turning his head and locking piercing eyes onto the Councilor. "I thought you folks had more honor than that!"
A low growl escaped the Councilor's mouth, rumbling up from his throat. He unsheathed his knife and slid a switch on it, causing two secondary blades to spring forth along the main blade. He waved his d'k tahg around stepping forward. "No one insults Gartul, son of Ver'kel!"
Wurth smirked and unclasped his robe, letting it fall to the floor. His lightsaber sprang from his belt to his hand, igniting with a snap-hiss. He held the orange blade up in a one-handed grip. "You really don't want to do this," he said, waving his other hand and reaching out with the Force.
Kyp shook his head. "Wurth, don't do this," he barked. He held up his hands. "We don't want to fight, Councilor."
Gartul bared his sharpened teeth as he waved his knife back and forth, advancing upon Wurth. "To a Klingon, all life is battle!" He bent his legs at the knee slightly and spread his legs apart, clenching his free hand. "Come on, boy! Let us see what a spoon bender can do against a real warrior!"
Wurth walked over, closing the distance with Gartul. He rolled his shoulders and swung his lightsaber at Gartul's right hand, aiming for the blade. "Don't say-" He stopped talking and his mouth dropped in surprise when his plasma blade hit the d'k tahg and stopped, bouncing off slightly. "What the kriff?"
Gartul's face nearly split in half as he grinned, glancing down at his knife. "Hah! Seems your fancy laser swords aren't as good as an old-fashioned knife." He suddenly moved, advancing upon Wurth with speed that belied his size. He parried away the plasma blade before thrusting his free hand out, hitting the younger and smaller human in the face with an unblocked palm strike right to the face.
Wurth flew back, blood streaming from his mashed nose. He struck the rough stone floor, skidding a half-meter before stopping. He groaned and blinked twice. "That went well..." he groaned, wiping at his nose. He suddenly looked up as his danger sense flared. Gartul loomed over him, knife hand twitching. "Oh, shavit..."
Gartul leaned forward, but stopped when twin snap-hisses filled the air, followed by the whine of lightsabers. "Not very honorable," he said as Ganner and Miko stood behind him, blades aimed at his neck.
Ganner snarled. "Touch him and there's gonna be an emergency vote for a new councilor," he said through clenched teeth.
Kyp held up a hand and stepped forward. "Ganner, Miko, stand down. Now."
Miko glanced to the side with his dark eyes. "Kyp, he's gonna-"
"STAND DOWN!" Kyp bellowed, his face flushing. He locked his flashing green eyes on Gartul. "Although if you do harm Wurth, it will be the last mistake you ever make."
Wurth cleared his throat. "I appreciate this, guys, but I got myself into this mess. I'll get myself out." He looked up at the Klingon towering over him and leaned forward. "Ready?"
Gartul chuckled, then sheathed his knife. He looked down at Wurth and extended his hand. "There'd be no honor in killing you, Wurth Skidder." He grasped a shocked Wurth and hauled him to his feet. "Interesting weapon, there. You built it yourself?"
Wurth nodded, his mouth hanging open.
Kyp looked to Martok as he sat, grinning on his throne. "Typical for the High Council?" He straightened up and placed his hands on his hips. "We're here to talk, not fight."
Martok shook his head and peered at the young man with his one good eye. "We are Klingons, Master Durron. We can do both!" He leaned forward and the grin dropped away. "Welcome to the Klingon Empire."
*****
Please read and review.