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#9035852 Jan 31, 2014 at 03:47 AM · Edited 4 years ago
Officers Eme...
417 Posts
"What a shame that such people wish to take advantage of
the tense relations between our peoples. Farewell, Starfleet."

"End playback!" O'Ryon snapped. Well, well. The bastard finally learned how to say "goodbye" properly. He fingered metallic fringe of sash on the desk before him. He'd worn it every chance he could. Well, within reason. Well, within reasonable viewing distance of Klingons.

He was entitled to it, as "head" of House Kagh'toc. He figured that no Klingon would want to see it, let alone be seen *with* it. The discomfort caused by that symbol of dishonor, deception and treachery gave O'Ryon any number of advantages in negotiations with his Klingon counterparts on Mol'Rihan. He'd calculated that the risk of any blowback or fallout was minimal.

He'd been wrong.

They'd all disappeared. Every last one of them. Each and every former member of House Kagh'toc had simply vanished from any record Starfleet Intelligence could find. There was some margin of error, obviously. The KDF was not particularly scrupulous about keeping records of warriors whose House was dishonored and whose lord was a Starfleet officer. No one gave a damn what they did with the rest of their worthless, honorless lives.

But to think that Klarc's appearance at the lead of a suicide fleet of ... what had he called them? Oh, yes: "criminals, traitors, delinquents and degenerates." To think that it was merely a coincidence that his appearance and the disappearance of everyone he had dragged down into the mud after the B'Tran fiasco... He didn't need T'Valas to tell him that the odds were astronomical.

O'Ryon hated not knowing. He hated not knowing how far back this plot went. He hated not knowing who was ultimately behind it. He hated not knowing what the real goals of the other player were.

And he hated himself for not knowing this was coming.

It didn't matter whether or not Klarc started this. Klarc had benefited from its ending. It had cleared whatever debt of honor Klarc had incurred with his former warriors. Those who shared his disgrace for his smuggling and cowardice. Klarc had, in some small way, begun the work of clearing his name. And O'Ryon's brother and sister officers had paid for that progress with their lives. He'd be damned if he let that happen again.

O'Ryon picked up the sash, got up from his desk, and went to replace it in his closet. As he lifted it up to the shelf, he suppressed a momentary urge to toss it into the replicator reclamation chute. No. He had taken this thing and used it for his own ends. He'd be damned if he was going to run away from it when it stopped being convenient.

He'd have to find some other way to get rid of it. Now, who would be in the market for one slightly used dishonored Klingon House? Besides the former owner, obviously. He'd be damned if that guy was going to get it back.

O'Ryon snorted to himself. He was a good negotiator. But it would take a Ferengi with lobes filled with refined latinum to pull off a sales job like that. Who would be desperate enough to want to take a decrepit, busted, broken, penniless title off his hands? A title that a convicted smuggler was bent on taking back and willing to kill hundreds, maybe thousands, in the process. And just like that, a thought struck him.

"I'll be damned..."
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