Impressive Landing, Part 2: Greetings

Posted on Mon Apr 26th, 2021 @ 10:01pm by Lieutenant Frederick Carlow

Mission: Heroes of the Hov'hurgh
Location: Hangar Bay One, IKS Hov’Hurgh
Timeline: 2409

The massive flight deck of the IKS Hov’Hurgh had been rapidly and grandly appointed for the tense meeting. Large black, orange and gold banners emblazoned with the ship symbol, hung from from massive hooks along the tall bulkhead walls, as well as Alliance banners, Empire banners and smaller ones from each of the Klingon Houses represented on board. All of the fighters were aligned, noses towards the center, all of them facing the dangerous warship that they had just brought on board. The pilots, copilots and hangar crew all stood on line, all seemingly well trained in the ritualistic, ancient ways of presenting arms in a mutual show of force at the beginning of diplomatic dealings.

As the entire compliment of pilots watched on with their commanders, the lower hatch on the Yang opened and a lift lowered from the bottom of the starship, carrying the petite Vulcan diplomat and her entourage, as well as four anti-grav lifts loaded with metallic barrels and crates. Admiral T’Vyn was draped in satin, emerald-green robes, a wide, golden belt, stitched with a pattern of cobalt-blue teardrops that matched the one dangling at her forehead, wrapping her slender waist and hanging nearly to the floor. A large, gold-edged hood draped over her head and framed a pale, serene face bearing light makeup that accentuated fine, yet sturdy features, and highlighted incredibly pale, golden-amber eyes that met everything with a calm, steady gaze.

Frederick did his very best to emulate T’Vyn’s crew in posture and stance. Of course, it was hard for him due to the fact that his delight was churning over the idea that they had just brought a starship into another starship. The inside of this place was larger than the last base station he had been on.

Happy with how his suit had come together, it reminded Fred of a certain cane-carrying Archangel from one of his favorite TV shows. The accessories helped make the outfit of course. It just didn’t seem right to not have a few hidden weapons when visiting Klingons. It seemed tantamount to going to a birthday party with no presents. Lastly, his green mirror-tinted John Lennon glasses had a setting to improve the lighting quality for him if need be.

To the left and slightly behind the Admiral was a tall Andorian male, dressed dutifully in his Starfleet uniform, a medical coat that nearly matched the hue of his skin draped over his broad shoulders. While the man was no coward, of the group, he seemed the most ill at ease with their current surroundings, his sharp eyes scrutinizing the immense flight bays and rows of neatly lined fighter craft. They may have been from another time, but the Medical Chief of the Infinite Diversity had seen his fair share of combat with battle hardened Klingons. It had taken the Admiral a fair amount of time, as well as a briefing for as high as his clearance would allow, to convince him that they weren’t just walking into a carefully crafted trap.

Flanking them was a group of five shadowy figures, their entire bodies covered in form-hiding, floor-sweeping black satin cloaks that were emblazoned with unfamiliar, golden, Vulcan-esque glyphs that stretched from the shoulder to the hem on each front panel, gold-edged hoods draped loosely over their heads. All of them were Vulcan and had one eerily similar trait: their eyes were all pale in color, ranging from a deep, piercing blue, to the one that stood directly behind the Ambassador, her eyes the same light, swirling honey color of the slightly smaller woman in front of her.

Kamora watched the scene before her with a practiced and watchful eye. Body language, demeanor and language were all tell tale signs of what someone was thinking. Working with Klingons made studying body language rather easy, Vulcans, however, were near impossible to read. Still her job on this ship was to keep everyone and everything in one piece. Her wiry and slender frame wore the black leather that was this ships uniform, and despite the fact it was leather and provided ample protection against bladed attacks, it moved surprisingly well on her small physique.

Of course Carlow wanted to learn all he could about these people. One question creeped into the back of his mind. How was the local nerve tonic? One would imagine that given the bravery of the people here, it must be pretty good stuff. Blood wine that was the stuff. No better way to pick up new things about people than by drinking with them.

JoH’qIj stood to the right of VaQ’taj watching passively as the metallic grey lift slowed to a stop just before contacting the floor of the hanger bay. This was one of the first opportunities for he and his beautiful and fiery HoD to entertain an Ambassador of Starfleet on their new ship. Months of rigorous training with the crew and years building this vessel had come together for a moment like this. Time to put all of that work to the test.

His blue eyes seemed to soften when he noticed that the Ambassador was not in Starfleet regulation garb setting him slightly at ease. After all it was not like the crew of the ‘Hurgh were in their parade finest. Chuckling on the inside, he thought, ~By Grethor, my mate just beamed herself out of a maintenance tube less than two minutes ago. ~ He swore he could see that she still had a spanner tool in her back pocket.

The white haired man saw the really big Klingon officer smile. Knowing that this could mean far more than a friendly gesture, he tried to glean some insight into that by looking into the face of one of the Vulcanoid guards to his right. As one might expect the man's face had not changed in the least. Giving up on that he checked on his white suit to make sure everything was in place.

Meanwhile, Tenas stood at VaQ’s left hand, next to JoH’qIj where, if necessary he could yank his adopted sister back and away from the line of fire. The Kolari stood out like a green leaf among all these brown faces. His hood helped and as he hoped the Vulcans kept to their ritual garb of hooded cloaks. That made it easier were he to need to blend in. Though, he did not expect any trouble. He knew T’Vyn far better than he let on to VaQ earlier.

They were both members of the “benevolent conspiracy” run by the Deltans, in particular his family, the Tals. Their chief goal: unity for common good. They pushed hard to build the Khitomer Alliance and fought hardest behind the scenes when it fell. It was good to have T’Vyn here, it meant that Thess and the others were on the ball. It also led to a wrinkle in the plan--him.

The green mercenary did not come here on directive of the Deltan Conspirators. Rather, he received a cryptic call from the Q’lrn--another band of inveterate meddlers that kept to the shadows. They supposedly worked closely with Thess’ group but clearly not in this case. Tenas sensed T’Vyn’s attention from across the bay and groaned inwardly. She wore her k’tarra crystal.

K’tarra was a rich, clear blue crystal native to the planet Q’lr and used by Q’lrn in all of their biotech. K’tarra crystals amplified inherent telepathic potential and enabled access to the Q’lrn psinet, a telepathic analog of the Starfleet subspace comm net. Q’lrn gifted the crystals to outsiders they deemed trustworthy and whom the Q’lrn wanted to track closely. T’Vyn wore hers prominently on her brow. Tenas possessed similar and it was visually identical to T’Vyn’s crystal. VaQ’taj was sure to notice and corner Tenas about it later. Tenas and T’Vyn might have been able to cover that little slip in detail had they worked together, a point he expected T’Vyn to corner him about. No matter what he was getting chewed out at least twice today.

Business as usual.

He looked and sure enough, T’Vyn’s gaze rested on him. Only the most astute might have noticed how her gaze lingered on him a bit longer than others but he was trained precisely to notice such details. Her attention blared at him like an alert klaxon.

Fvadt, He swore his favorite Romulan oath but kept his outward composure calm.

As the lift came to a halt, the small Vulcan woman’s voice rose up, powerful and strong, lending itself well to the acoustics of the large bays. “Qapla! Colonel VaQ’taj, Daughter of D’lyn! I am Admiral T’Vyn, Commanding officer of the USS Infinite Diversity and Federation Diplomat, requesting permission to come aboard.”

The red-braided Klingon Colonel had been standing passively, waiting to see what this diplomat would do. Her sharp, brown eyes studied the party and she had to admit that the woman at least seemed to know her profession. Come with respect and bearing gifts for your host, even under an uneasy flag of truce. After a bit of a pregnant pause, VaQ’taj barked out, striking her chest in a sharp salute, the entire present crew immediately following suit in unison, “You are far too pleasant for a Vulcan, Ambassador! Permission granted! Do not make me regret my decision.” The last was almost added as an afterthought. There had to be threats, they were still Klingon, after all.

As Admiral T’Vyn and her entourage stepped onto the hard deck plates of Hanger Bay One, a gravelly, brusque voice rang out loudly. "Admiral On Deck!" And as if one living, breathing creature, the rows upon rows of pilots and flight deck crew snapped to attention and saluted. The sound of leather armor creaking and clenched fists hammering against armored chests echoed off the metallic walls, even as the Master-at-Arms and his men held their salute until the two parties of superior officers left the bay.

“I have brought provisions to replace those used during your rescue efforts. Starfleet thanks you for your... timely intervention,” T’Vyn said with a slight twitch to the edge of her brow before turning to motion to the Andorian doctor. “This is Doctor Thoren. He will be examining and receiving our wounded.”

The Doctor looked the group over briefly and gave a respectful nod, “I trust that they have received the finest care thus far.” His voice was a bit thick as he spoke, as though nearly having to force the words from his lips, displaying the damage done by years of continued warfare.

“Our facilities and crew are at your disposal, Doctor. I guarantee that Doctor Sthilg will appreciate the break, he has been working nonstop for days,” VaQ’taj answered with a toothy grin. She knew the man was nervous, could smell it on him, nearly taste his unease. “And we don’t bite... Unless asked nicely.”

The time tossed astronaut couldn't help but think that on an all human crew, this would have been the moment that the entire group would have fallen on the floor, and some would likely have turned various shades of bright red.

The only reaction from the ambassador was that slight twitch of her eyebrow as she eyed Doctor Thoren, who managed to squelch most of the involuntary laugh that tried to escape him. Klingons were a rowdy, deadly bunch, but at least this particular crew appeared to have a sense of humor. After taking a moment to clear his thoughts, as well as his throat, Thoren said, with a small, tentative smile, “I shall endeavour to remember that.”

“Lieutenant Kamora, escort Doctor Thoren to main medical then return to your station on the bridge,” VaQ’taj ordered, looking back to her Tactical Chief briefly, before turning her somewhat disturbing grin back to the Infinite Diversity’s Medical Chief. “I thought perhaps a crew member with a slightly less imposing appearance to serve as your guide would be in order. Her personality isn’t much better, but you are dealing with a Klingon crew! Come! My sister has been quite busy preparing a glorious feast!”

Kamora nodded in acceptance of her orders and turned to eyeball the Andorian doctor with a gaze that would make most shudder. She was used to working with Klingons, and despite being full blooded Bajoran, there was a certain...attitude that serving on such a vessel required her to use - and that suited her just fine.

“This way,” She said shortly, pointing towards the doors and waiting for the medic to follow her.

FIN