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CH06: S [D03|0910] Heritage

CHAPTER 06: SUPPLEMENTAL | HERITAGE

[ High Chancellor Martok, son of Urthog | Whetstone Lounge | Deck 13 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @stardust
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Because of the Spearhead Lounge incident, Martok had taken the second hull's largest lounge as a place where he could interact with his remaining companions. Seated in the back of the lounge, at the largest table, he had a tankard of bloodwine in his fist, and a glare in his eye.

He had learned of the expected findings in the sectors closest to Qo'noS, foreseeing a bloody run for the First City - long range sensors from before the Theurgy's leap lacking detail but telling enough. Gorka, the vermin of Margon, would be mere hours away. The Theurgy had set a course for Qo'noS, and he had just received word from Captain Ives that she was planning to trick his political adversary that the true Chancellor of the Klingon Empire was still on the Theurgy, while instead, the best equipped shuttle would take him to the Great Hall. Hearing this, he had asked Captain Ives to personally attend, and help prove the existence of their common enemy. These Infested.

"Chu'vok, old friend," he said to the General, the only other Klingon seated by his table, whereas the Lounge was otherwise filled with companions. "I will head to the holodeck soon, to oversee the efforts of Ives' medical team to smoke out the impostor in our midst. Take these men there ahead of me. I need to finish this drink, and be alone. There is much to contemplate for the arrival to Qo'noS."

"Aye, Chancellor," said his loyal man, and when he shouted for the present Klingons to accompany him, only Kudesh remained, standing not far from the table. There were no Starfleet officers present, and Martok sipped his bloodwine while thinking of the coming day. A fateful one, for certain.

"Computer. Thea! That is your name, is it not? Can you please come here," he rasped quietly, and when prompted, the A.I. of Ives' ship appeared on the other side of the table, her hands folded behind her back.

"Yes, Chancellor. How can I be of service?" she asked.

"I have an idea, for the screening process that is due. Will you hear it?"

TEN MINUTES LATER

After Ives had given his accord, the A.I. projection vanished from the lounge, leaving Martok alone with Kudesh again. Only that didn't last for long, since the sliding doors on the other side of the large room parted, admitting a slim figure.

"Commander Rutherford, isn't it?" he growled quietly, yet without anger. He recalled her from the other lounge, where she'd been with her husband Kyle Rutherford. "You are the Chief Diplomatic Officer on this ship, if memory serves me right. Do you bring word of the situation, now that this ship has completed it's little leap through Klingon space?"

Martok respected Ives' wishes on the engine features being secret, along with the aliens that had helped fit the ship with that technology, but it was still a point of great interest for the future. What the Theurgy could do, these slipstream jumps, would have great repercussions for all allies of the Federation, all depending on the defeat of the enemy, and the restoration of the Federation's old leadership. For at present, there was no telling how much of the Federation Council had been compromised.

Then again, the same could be said about the Klingon High Council, couldn't it?

Re: CH06: S [D03|0910] Heritage

Reply #1 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Whetstone Lounge | Deck 13 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Auctor Lucan
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Making her way to the Whetstone Lounge, a room of Theurgy having been repurposed to serve as Martok’s de facto throne room, the chief diplomat went through the intricacies of her approach to the situation in her mind, while dodging random crewmembers and tight corners along her path. There were many factors to consider and yet still many open questions. But it was about time to have a talk with the head of the Klingon state himself, to get an idea of where he was in his diplomatic ideas and political strategies. This battle, obviously, was not won at the blade of a bat’leth or the barrel of a disruptor. The warrior race had relied on such pragmatic dealings for years and had only recently started to learn the intricacies of true politics. Martok was one who understood that change, she assumed, whereas Gorka seemed to be far more conservative. Stuck in the past. If anything, it could turn out to be an angle worth playing, in attempting to stroke the chancellors ego into submission.

Slipping through a wall of two Klingons skillfully, exiting the lounge, the slender blonde made her way over to the two remaining officials in a straight line, a small PADD dangling in her delicate grasp, from the end of a gently swaying arm. Giving the other man a tight nod, a member of the Yan-Isleth, she assumed, blue eyes soon fell onto the seasoned Klingon, as her posture settled into a statuesque form right in front of them.

“Indeed, your Excellency.” The commander replied to the first part of his inquiry dutifully, using the proper style of greeting for a head of state as outlined by the Federation’s diplomatic protocol. Granted, she had not made the very best impression upon first meeting the official amidst an outright brawl. Hoping as much as he’d almost forgotten who she was, as hazy would the recollection of that particular moment be.

“And I am, though the detailed tactical appraisal will be relayed by liaison Natauna, I wouldn’t be much help in that.” she added, handing the PADD over to the Martok momentarily, screen scrolled to the beginning of the preliminary report on the grandson mission.  “With your permission I will get right to it, chancellor. We’ve uncovered intelligence that will be of immeasurable impact to your claim over the high council. But with all due respect, I have to make sure you want to share this delicate information just yet.”

Letting her eyes trail over to the other Klingon once more, the diplomat waited patiently for there to be some sort of resolution, one way or another, before continuing with a nod.

“Last night a small team of specialists beamed down into a former duranium mine in the Epsylon Monocerotis system, to engage in a diplomatic mission to extract two Klingons who were proposed to be of rather intimate relation to you. Named M’ven and Jo’reh, the latter of which you might be familiar with, the former actually being the focal point of interest here.” she nodded at the PADD for further reassurance. “As you’ll see, DNA analysis confirms that M’ven is Drex and Jo’reh’s son, your grandson.”

Letting the conclusion sit there for a second, Samantha felt the innate urge to carry on and not let any time go to waste. Swallowing away the dry sensation of having spoken continuously for a good moment, she readjusted her stance ever so slightly, now able to clasp her hands behind her posterior.

“If you want my professional advice on the matter, first and foremost we have to make sure that this information is revealed only at your discretion, for it is a powerful weapon, as long as it retains the element of surprise. I have already secured all intelligence and logs concerning the mission as well as confining mother and son to a private section of sickbay. As, unfortunately, precautionary measures had to be taken along the way. You’ll find all the details in the report and I take full responsibility for the mission. It seems I have overestimated everyone’s familiarity with diplomatic protocol, which is my fault entirely.”

Re: CH06: S [D03|0910] Heritage

Reply #2 –
[ High Chancellor Martok, son of Urthog | Whetstone Lounge | Deck 13 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @stardust
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Reading the Federation Standard on the PADD, Martok frowned, piecing together what the report said and fitting it into what he already knew.

In the case of this report, the fallout was the issue that made his grizzled mien harden, and his mismatched eyes rise to the human. "What manner of..?" he began, yet trailed off, rethinking what he already knew and assuming that the text before him was stating the truth. The issue with the House of Torg, the Duras sisters and Ja'rod was multi-faceted, and this lent yet another dimension to the bad blood he had towards many on that side of House politics.

Drex? Were you keeping this from me? Was your words about Zyrao Natauna a diversion from this? You fool, if this was where your heart was truly at, you should have told me!

The contents of the PADD was not a cause for embarrassment on his part, if perhaps only in the sense of distrust clouding him from the truth. If this mother and child were real, and kept safe in sickbay at that very moment, then it proved both him and his general wrong.

"It says here, that while monitoring ship wide communication, this ship's Chief Intelligence Officer - Fisher - intercepted a message to Chu'vok, from Ja'rod, son of Lursa. This message was indeed claiming that Ja'rod had a twin sister. Jo'reh." Martok looked up at the human female. "Aye, General Chu'vok did relay that message to me, for he is a loyal man, but him and I both dismissed this claim when we heard it, because I have kept my eyes on Ja'rod since he was adopted by House Torg. I have had K'Tal keep his spies appraised on him, and I knew Ja'rod had no sister. General Chu'vok and I both understood it was a falsehood, meant to draw the attention from Gorka's claim on the chancellery, and rile my interest and resources towards that end. Saying it was his sister was, perhaps, an attempt to invoke sympathy on Ja'rod's behalf, him feigning that he was trying to leave House Torg behind. I did not believe it, and it seems I was right in not doing so, at least, but I never considered that this woman and child actually existed."

Martok frowned and looked down to the text on the PADD once more, growling quietly. "Yet of course you would not know this, thinking there was merit in Ja'rod's words, and you took the chance to investigate. If you had not done so, then Jo'reh and M'ven would have been dismissed, and remained leverage for House Torg, once captured."

Slowly rising to his full height, Martok held the Starfleet data tablet in his calloused grip. "These medical readings... they tell me that my son kept things from me, and I suppose he overestimated my hate towards the entirety of House Torg," he said, and sighed, feeling his age, and the bitterness of Drex assuming so much of his temper. Then again, perhaps the loss of Sirella and his siblings...

"Drex... was likely protecting his woman and their son, I assume, from my political rivals," he said quietly, thinking of Sirella and her demise, and how it must have affected Drex as well. "This, by not even telling me about whom he'd given his heart to, as you humans call it. This Jo'reh of House Torg, escaping her home to keep her child safe. I see also that Ja'rod met his end in this confrontation on the outpost, when he tried to use your arrival as a means to win her for his own."

Twisted man, thought Martok, but he did not put it past the son of Lursa to try and manipulate the heart of a woman for his own gain. He realised he had many questions, but knowing that there were two Klingons aboard the ship that held such personal import to him, both in regard to his House and the Empire's future, he spoke the one that lay closest to mind.

"What are they like?" he asked, looking at Commander Rutherford with his remaining eye. What was he to expect when he went to see them? Drex had been a fool, betimes, but perhaps this M'Ven showed other traits that belonged to his own bloodline.

Re: CH06: S [D03|0910] Heritage

Reply #3 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Whetstone Lounge | Deck 13 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Auctor Lucan
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There was a certain sense of satisfaction that came over the Commander, as the Klingon chancellor was so obviously dumbfounded by the news presented to him, that the blonde couldn’t deny herself. Even if it was slightly unprofessional – she would certainly not let it show. A large part of her business, her career, was based on having the upper hand on everyone else in terms of knowledge. And over the years it had become a position she felt whole heartedly most comfortable in. A sentiment that had not only invaded, but wholly consumed her private life too, as there was now little distinction between either world. Once upon a time she had been confident with the notion of somebody knowing her better than she did herself, but ever since that dramatically ended she had built a reputation on trading in glimpses personal liberty more rampantly than gold-pressed latinum.

Pursing her lips, as the man started to narrate his version of the events leading up to the rescue mission, Samantha couldn’t help but chew the inside of her cheek somewhat judgmentally. As, while the entire ordeal had certainly played out well in their favor, thanks to everyone involved, but she had assumes such a wild claim would at least spare a few dispensable subordinates, if the future of the empire hung in the balance. But among the Klingon culture, political cunningness and consideration was not exactly a driving concern for electing someone head of state. And as it had eventually led to Theurgy being able to wedge themselves into the chancellor’s debt, she could not exactly dismiss the grander poetry in all of it.

“Well, the truth often times hides behind lies.” she relied simply, alluding to the complicated and multi-layered facets of deceit and backroom politics. Which may have been foreign to the species as a whole, as a cultural concept, but that didn’t mean that some underhanded goon with lofty aspirations would not resort to it out of misguided ambition. “We did indeed consider it to be a trap, Commander Fisher predominantly.” The diplomat clarified, swallowing a ping of offense from the accusation that they had gone into this mission blind-eyed. “And while I concluded the safest approach to be an investigation with a small, dispensable team, would be the most sensible thing to do, in the end, it turned out, going a more tactical route, was the more fitting course of action. Any action, really.” Distinctly leaving the judgment hanging there, that it would’ve been well in the wheelhouse of a Klingon commander to come to a similar deduction. After all, challenge was a favorite Klingon past time.

Watching the man stand up, Sam met him with the full confidence of her blue eyes and statuesque stance unwavering. Only letting her long lashes flutter ever so lightly when the mention of ‘giving his heart’ came up. According to her research, propagation of one’s genes, as some sort of archaic ritual of power, was not really a concept lost on Klingons. More so than mawkish ‘love’ potentially was.

“I am sure that, while not the most pressing matter, Jo’reh will gladly explain the more  sentimental aspects of her relationship with your son to you … at a later time.” She nodded gently, hoping to get more of her political ploy across instead. “But yes, Ja’rod won’t be bothering you anymore, safe to say. While not the most ideal solution to a problem, it certainly is the most definitive one. A dead man can become a hero, larger than life, while he might’ve been of more use to us, drowning in the dishonor of this whole incident, rather than a pool of his own blood.” Surely Martok would be able to appreciate the graphic attest. “By the hands of ‘Starfleet deserters’, no less.” And even though that was a diplomatic dilemma to be untangled at a later time, the Commander was more than certain it would come around to bite them in the ass eventually, so she'd be prepared.

Watching something in the eye of the man shift, a warmth and sentimentality, sparking up, that she was not convinced he’d be capable of, honestly caught the blonde slightly by surprise. It was a weak notion, to best be kept among such a small crowd, rather than the larger arena of Klingon politics. But regardless, her human nature could not deny itself a semblance of sympathy at that moment. To the point where she almost stumbled over her own words, dipping into a somewhat confused staccato, as a result.

“They’re fine, everything considered?” Samantha replied unsurely, only then dissecting the meaning of his question to a more sentimental core. “They certainly have a lot of fervor.” she subsequently admitted, a gentle smile on her face, that she wasn’t so keen to be reciprocated.

“It would probably be wise for you to see them, at some point, before your departure to Qo’nos.” the blonde added, returning to a more serious, factual stance. “And I’ll promise to make sure Theurgy will uphold its oath to you, by keeping them safe in your absence.”

Re: CH06: S [D03|0910] Heritage

Reply #4 –
[ High Chancellor Martok, son of Urthog | Whetstone Lounge | Deck 13 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @stardust
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Thoughtful, Martok considered the way the human described this Jo'reh and the newly found grandson of his, M'Ven.

Earlier, he had dismissed the challenge against his judgement, thinking that she wouldn't know his history with the House of Torg, much less his foreknowledge about Ja'rod since they seemed to have believed him enough to deploy a team to investigate the claims about the "sister". He reckoned she was correct, however, in that Jo'reh was the only one that could shed some definitive light on her past together with Drex. When she suggested he might go see her before his departure, Martok felt himself nodding quietly.

"My gratitude, and I will," he rasped and slowly walked towards the exit of the lounge.

"Before then, however," the High Chancellor added, a grim look coming to his grizzled features, "I will be present when your security officers smoke out the serpent that has slithered into my ranks. The one that bombed your ship, and killed officers both yours and mine."

Martok paused next to the human, curling his upper lip when thinking about whom it might be that would use such cowardly tactics. Unlike his loyal councilor K'Tal, he utterly despised assassins, thinking them vermin among Klingons, who wouldn't fight with honour.

"Even as I know it serves this crew's mission," he said, turning his remaining eye her way, "I thank you for investigating the message, since you may just have given my House a future again." Too early to say, of course, since he had yet to see M'Ven and his mother, heard what they had to say about their time in House Torg. He paused by the sliding doors, and turned his head a little, thinking about the trajectory of events leading up to the present.

"I took a great risk by extending my helping hand to the Theurgy, since while Captain Ives is an old comrade in arms and a friend, it undermined my hold on my Empire - giving Gorka an excuse to make his move." He grinned in spite of it, with due cause. "It would seem, however, that in this game - as with most things in life - high risk yield high reward."

With renewed confidence and some hopes for the long term future of his House, Martok left the lounge.

OOC: I can add a FIN here unless you want to close it out? :)

Re: CH06: S [D03|0910] Heritage

Reply #5 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Whetstone Lounge | Deck 13 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Auctor Lucan
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Brushing her lips together, mirroring the tension and countenance turning her body rigid in deciding times such as these, the blonde diplomat stood her ground unwaveringly as the chancellor made his way towards the closest exit of the lounge. Two sliding doors, stopping the behemoth in his tracks, despite opening dutifully, signifying not only the precipice of the room, but their conversation as well. A sentiment he didn’t seem ready to acquaint himself with just yet.

Raising her brows ever so slightly, a nonverbal nod toward her openness to any further queries he might’ve had, the diplomat’s duty was to serve not only the man, but the cause, as well as she could. A slow nod, at the information conveyed, intriguing, although she had no intention to have a ringside seat for that one, it certainly stirred up another pressing matter that the commander herself had been hesitant to bring up at first. Yet it always helped to let the theatrics play out first and wait for a suitable opening that would usually present itself sooner or later.

Because good things did not only come to those who risked something, but sometimes also to those who waited. Which was probably the most definitive difference between their two species, if there ever was such a poetic one.

Slowly sucking in a breath of fresh air through plump lips, air dry against her gums and tongue like a desert evening, the woman furrowed her blonde brows slightly. Nodding with the courteous gratitude a Klingon’s praise deserved, the officer couldn’t help but want to clear her mind of the contemplations whether the chancellor knew what else this newfound family could imply. Even if, she needed that reassurance.

“And while we gladly helped you in preserving this potential future, my ultimate goal was to present you with a choice, chancellor, rather than having one made for you.” she told him. “Which goes beyond of what serves this crew and our own missions. I hope you are aware of that.” she nodded with a courageous glimmer to sky-blue eyes. The implication of ending M’ven’s life in order to rid the empire of contention to the throne, if necessary. A decision the diplomat did not intend to claim unduly, but rather extended like a token of Theurgy’s commitment, and hers, in terms of not interfering with another species natural and political development. A point of moral that, at this point, was probably rather moot.

Letting his parting words sink in, the commander realized the opening she had needed, to address a further point in her capacity as CDO. “Chancellor!” she spoke out, her voice not a cry, but loud enough to carry around the corner, as she followed the man in confident strides. Having caught up to his side and sizeable pace, the slender blonde clasped her hands behind her alternately flexing posterior.

“I also want you to keep in mind, whatever options we have in discerning this traitor from your ranks, you should consider effectiveness over humanity, when returning to Qo’nos.” she stated somewhat mysteriously, following him through the bowels of the ship. Intent on parting ways before he arrived to his next appointment, but at least having planted the seed of inspiration into his mind by then.

“While I am in no position to dictate Klingon politics to you, I am an advisor and I sometimes give my judgments unwarrantedly so.” Sam explained, yet without the slightest hint of penitence. “As there is a history of a traitor mimicking as a member of the council, you should have an easy time pushing through whatever matter necessary, to extinguish that threat. For which one life is a small price to pay, when every minute more, your peers are being poisoned against you. Not only by Gorka’s lackeys.”

Seeing as it was Martok himself, who not too long ago had been replaced by a Dominion imposter, the conclusion was an obvious one.

“I am sure you can appreciate the similarity.”

OOC: Just got muse to carry on a little bit more, hope that's okay :3

Re: CH06: S [D03|0910] Heritage

Reply #6 –
[ High Chancellor Martok, son of Urthog | Whetstone Lounge | Deck 13 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @stardust
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Pausing when hearing the human female's voice from the lounge, Martok let her fall in step with him, listening to what she was saying.  Partially, however, his thoughts lingered on the mysterious comment about providing a choice, but he was not entirely sure what she meant. Having lost his entire family, being presented with surviving kin was a boon more than anything, and it would be more honourable to provide for this Jo'reh and M'Ven, and should they be so willing, accept his invitation to the House of Martok. They were no threat to him, victims of Torg as they had become, and if Drex had been good towards them, he believed they would appreciate his offer.

Moreover, he would be able to tell Jo'reh that he had slain Hi'Jak - the one who partially carried the guilt of Drex's death.

Ives' diplomat kept speaking in her nebulous way, alluding to things but not actually saying what she meant - as if providing a chance of deniability if challenged. It was a trait Martok had little patience with, but in this case, she advocated murdering any council member that proved to be an Infested. 'By whatever means necessary' was clear enough to him. Given that such a Klingon would be a victim, possessed by a parasite, of course she wouldn't outright phrase it that way. She would know, however, that Ives had provided the means to deal with the Infested by using anyon emission emitters. Martok wondered if the diplomat had any personal grievances with an Infested, or if she was this cold in general?

"During the war, the Founders did not possess the bodies of the ones they replaced. There is a difference there, in how there could be a great Klingon warrior or a comrade-in-arms to save... instead of killing for sake of policy or my personal gain," he grated quietly, having turned his remaining eye towards the callous woman, Then, he looked ahead, taking a deep breath. "That being said, I have already secured the means for such an outcome in the Great Hall. If the anyon emitters does work, then I have prepared for that eventuality. You do not need to tell me how given my knowledge of the enemy, all Quadrants stand to loose a lot more than my arse on the seat of the Chancellery if I were unwilling to kill for the greater good. If neither this ship's scientists nor my own can find a way to only kill the parasites and spare the Hosts... then be that as it may."

Surely, she would have questions about what means he had taken, and as they reached the turbolift he made the addendum. "Councilor K'Tal has made the preparations using his his Houses' resources and warriors. He is my Head of Imperial Intelligence, and has been given access to the Great Hall's ancient tunnels, in which such emitters can be housed. It would be better, however, if Commander Vael Kaeris made progress with his experiments before my arrival, however."

Little would the both of them know what fate would befall Kaeris in the battle to come...
 

Re: CH06: S [D03|0910] Heritage

Reply #7 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Whetstone Lounge | Deck 13 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Auctor Lucan
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Surely Martok had met many diplomats and politicians in his time. And while certainly skilled and successful, Samantha did not exactly strive to reinvent the wheel or change the rituals of diplomacy by being anything that what was required by the game. Be it a sense of plausible deniability and remarks that could be interpreted in whichever way the opposite party preferred. As the strict and precise language of the treaty drafters came a good while after her job was already done. From the way he reacted to her, she understood that he was somewhat confused, or surprised, by her inception. Which, in turn, confused her a little bit too. M’ven posed a threat to the house as much as he did a future. He was, and that could not be negotiated away, a bastard child, half of the treacherous house of Duras. Likely seen as polluting the bloodline and thus not an heir that the majority of the council would agree with. Potentially even preferring Martok’s childless outlook over a potential successor of such spoilt heritage and demanding the eradication of any remaining Duras blood. Just as much as he could be seen as a strong heir, forged by hardship, if fully adopted into the house of Martok. Especially if by some ploy of assimilation of the entire Duras legacy alongside the last remaining member(s).

Even if the chancellor could not appreciate the varied political ramifications and interpretations, outside his own impression as a grandfather, it was damn well her job to consider any potentiality. But just as much as the Commander was slightly uncertain about the Klingon’s conviction and foresight in regard to his own family – future members included – she would also learn that in the second matter brought forth he seemed to agree in a manner speaking of an entirely different measure of surprise. Surprise over her even assuming he’d not have the balls to go through with whatever needed to be done in this regard. Such beautiful duality, such enchanting dissent, she was quite growing to find the man utterly fascinating.

Glad over sharing in the nebulous orbit of his general cold judgment of a potentially inevitable solution, if only by a fraction, the blonde nodded dutifully.

“Certainly. It however stands to argue that the continuation of a stable government and Klingon Empire would amount to the most honorable of sacrifices.” she stated plainly. , taking solace (or justification) in the fact that Klingon society at least had a tradition that almost privileged death over living, in certain situations. Whereas in the construct dominated by human morale, the Federation, that kind of sacrifice was generally regarded as abominable. Which probably was the distinction between a diplomat and a politician. Whereas the latter was accountable for the actions they took within their respective areas of influence, and had to deal with them, a diplomat usually evaded the ramifications of their actions, upon completion of the objective.

“Very well, chancellor, thank you for your honesty.” she lauded gracefully. “Given the dangers of the respective missions, we’re about embark on, it’s only prudent to spread out responsibilities and knowledge.”

She did not know yet, that not too far into the future, she would remember this very moment, and the exchange they’d had. As she watched the ageing Klingon hero for the last time. When everything that had been anticipated, no matter how improbable, would come to be. Yet the mission would have to go on.

- FIN
 
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