5.11.16

RP First City, Page 1

Captain Menchez - First City, Bar

The Klingon warrior sat alone at a table in the First City's local bar. Menchez had downed another cup of bloodwine when the Orion waitress walked passed.

"Hold on," Menchez growled. "Another drink!"

The waitress approached him. "You've had eight so far," she said. "Are you sure about this?"

"I will cease my thirst onslaught when Command gives me another ship. Until then, here I remain," he replied. "And if you must know, the I.K.S. B'Cnah was taken to near-ruin by a group of Kazon, led by an augment-Cardassian woman."

She blinked. "The Kazon? Well, that explains the drinking. But can a warrior be a true warrior when he drowns his sorrows in pity?"

"Perhaps you are right. But I do not drink out of sorrow for myself, but respect for my fallen comrades, and perhaps a little animosity for those who oppose me."

The Orion groaned. "Ugh. Fine. Whatever."

"Wait," Menchez held her arm for a second. "The next one will be my last. And, please, a plate of gagh."

Another Klingon, a general in one of the fancier Bortas'qu uniforms, sat down at a nearby table and ordered bloodwine.

Menchez approached Kro'nok. "General, this is a good day to reflect on past victories. May I join you?"

Meanwhile, D'ren 341 sat in the upper level, receiving a mental communique. We've got reports of a potential civil war, D'ren. The Ministry of Thirteen has chosen you to speak to the changeling posing as J'mpok to rally the KDF.

Facing the sparring down below, this particular clone sat at a table alone, his short wavy black hair slicked back over his head. D'ren 341 groaned, picked up his drink, stood up and slowly sauntered down stairs.

An Orion male grabbed his arm from behind, obviously oblivious to the notoriety of the man. "Hey! Romulan ale's not sold here!"

Menchez took notice of the Orion man, causing a ruckus. "Fool," Menchez said to the green-skinned alien. "Just because he is not Klingon, doesn't mean he is no warrior. I would watch who I confront in these halls."

The general turned to the Orion as well, nodded to Menchez. "He is correct. Listen to him."

"I work security here!" barked the Orion.

Keeping the Orion out of view behind him, D'ren smirked at Menchez and Kro'nok. "Ye must be new," he said to the Orion in an Irish accent.

He then twisted around suddenly and removed the security guard's grasp from his bicep, and then followed it with an uppercut to his large chin, putting the brute on his back with a single strike. Two other Orions, both females, stood up and drew Klingon disruptors.

Both green-skinned women fired their weapons on the highest possible setting, slowly and agonizingly vaporizing D'ren 431.

In one hour, thousands of D'ren clones died seemingly unrelated deaths. However, as the reports filed in to the Ministry of Thirteen, it became clear that this orchestra was being conducted by the Omega.

Menchez glanced at Kro'nok, surprised. "Well, that was excessive. Any ideas what that was about?"

General Kro'nok turned and looked back at Menchez. "Romulan Ale, apparently." The general sat down, and motioned for Menchez to sit down at his table. "Let us talk of victory."

Menchez took a seat as a Klingon teenager ran over to the spot where the human was vapourized and began scrubbing the floor; an odd job since the Bar in general was filthy. The Captain was passed another bloodwine and his plate of gagh while he tried to ignore the echoing voices from afar.

"I've been in the Empire for a long time, left it, then returned again. Since I've been back I've succeeded against the Xindi in the past, warp-10 salamanders, a murderous Section 31 agent, my own undead crew, assimilated snowmen and, finally, the Vidiians. I am proud of my successes, even if they will not be enough to save me at this point. And you, General? I presume good conquests on your part."

The general turned to look out the window at the strange voices, then looked back at Menchez. "Oh, very good conquests. Won battles against some of the best in Starfleet, as weak as they may be. Took on the Borg, the Iconians, and really showed the Na'kuhl not to mess around with the Klingon Empire! In fact, we could be here all night listening to me tell you stories about some of the absolutely glorious battles that I won."

Menchez smirked. It was refreshing to hear of these victories in a time of his own undoing. He raised his drink. "Then to your glorious battles, General. May you have many more!"

The general raised his newly delivered drink as well. "To glorious battles!"

Menchez brought his cup down, pleased, but paused in thought. "General, I believe you may have future battles, but I perhaps may not. You see, actions by myself in the past dishonoured my crew and my ship. I allowed the Kazon to get the best of me."

He stared at his gagh, unable to eat it.

"We both know the High Council was killed by an Iconian. Today, I am to go before a new Councillor to have my case reviewed. I requested a new ship, but it is more likely he will push to dissolve my House. There is an upcoming battle, but I fear I will not be part of it."

The general raised an eyebrow. "Captain, if what you say is true... one of the most honorable things you can do is to accept that, and face that fact like a true Klingon. Do not run away, like others usually do. Live up to it and do something honorable. Go before the new Councillor and tell him the truth, and he may yet see the true Klingon you truly are."

Menchez thought about it. "Perhaps you are right. I will give it a shot. I will be in the Great Hall if you are poised to be witness."

He then took out a datarod and placed it on the table.

"In the meantime, if I do not come back from this, you must extrapolate this information. It is of the location of a secret Klingon facility, lead by an old House. One that was supposedly decimated and kicked from the Empire centuries ago: a House of Kovog. I believe they have been growing their own fleet outside the Empire for a long time and plan to use our weakened political state to attack and seize power. We must strike them first. Qapla'."

Menchez stood and left for the Great Hall.

The general picked up the datarod and looked at it. He finished his mug of bloodwine and set it aside, then got up and returned to his ship, gave the datarod to his senior officers to have them decode the information, and then returned for the Great Hall to see what happens to Menchez.

---

First City, Great Hall, Council Chambers

The Klingon warrior entered the giant chambers where many other men and women gathered. A new Council Member, an abnormally tall Klingon man named Ghrokh, turned away, finishing an awkward conversation with Chancellor J'mpok and turned to perceive Menchez's entrance. Various regular proceedings on this day took place in a public environment.

"Menchez, son of Drognov, of the House of Rokkon, named after your great grandfather, you stand in judgement of allowing your crew to disappear on Hanon IV. An investigation has completed, and you have been deemed innocent of any crime, but may still be judged for neglect by the current incarnation of the council. If so, we may deem your House expendable in the eyes of the Empire. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Taking a breath, Menchez replied, "Only that I pledged my life to protect my crew and to the Empire, and if any circumstances that occurred led to their demise, I take full responsibility. I should have been better, stronger, faster than the petaQ that beat me, and I will do nothing to stop myself from honoring the Klingon Empire until I am deemed worthy again."

"I see you also requested a new command," Ghrokh observed on a PADD. He then, out of character, walked over to Menchez and handed the Captain the PADD. "Can you tell me if the information you provided here is correct."

Confused, Menchez looked from some of the people observing, including that of Chancellor J'mpok and General Kro'nok, back to Council Member Ghrokh.

"You'll have to excuse our disorder today. There have been several reports of human deaths around Qo'noS. My attention has been elsewhere," the taller man said. "Several men who all look alike appear to have died on accident."

It seemed, to Menchez, as if the Council Member was stalling for some reason. It was then he noticed the PADD wasn't his ship request at all, but, rather, an intelligence report that was deemed unconfirmed.

"If you say you would do anything for the Empire, then I would need proof. Would you risk everything, even, hypothetically, something like treason?" Ghrokh asked, momentarily flicking his gaze to the side, indicating J'mpok's presence.

The report in Menchez's hands questioned the Chancellor's current existence. It postulated he was not who he said he was, possibly a Changeling, and that the real J'mpok was suspected as being held with the long dissolved House of Kovog. To this, Captain Menchez could only conclude he was being challenged to test these claims at risk to his own standing as a Klingon citizen. Still driven by his desire to prove himself, Menchez quickly flung his d'k tahg right at J'mpok, penetrating the knife directly into the Klingon's forehead. No blood was spilt, and no pain was had either.

Suddenly, a group of five unknown Klingons, there to protect the imposter, beamed in with disruptor rifles and opened fire upon everyone in the Chambers.

General Kro'nok pulled out an Honor Guard disruptor pulsewave rifle and fired, blasting away the 5 so-called Klingons and knocking them to the floor.

When the commotion and dust conceded, Menchez looked around to find that J'mpok had disappeared somewhere and Ghrokh and several other Klingon security guards were busy speaking into their communicators. When the Council Member was finished, he walked over to the Captain.

"You took a chance at great risk to yourself, Captain," Ghrokh said when he was satisfied the City was being combed by its entire security force. "And I knew that you would. If this is connected to those deaths, or separate, I am uncertain. But since you have proven yourself honorable, the I.K.S. Kragoth will be yours to command for now. Continue to prove yourself, and it will remain yours."

The old Klingon cracked his neck. "I will. But what of the exiled House of Kovog? What are your plans for them?"

"We would attack immediately, but we cannot confirm or prove that it was them. If these bodies report on their DNA, then that will be a different story. Not to mention we do not have any idea where they are located."

Menchez snarled. "Actually, General Kro'nok may have information on a planet-orbiting space station. May we pursue?"

"Make it so, Captain," he replied. "I will notify you on the results of our medical scans."

General Kro'nok stood there nearby, nodding to Menchez. "I'll prepare my ship. Meet us in orbit, when you are ready."

The general pressed some buttons on his communicator and dematerialized, beaming to his vessel, the powerful Kar'fi-class battle-carrier I.K.S. Ha'vok, which hovered in orbit.

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