Woes of Blood
99024.5
@Maikull
Qo’noS; First City; House Terrath Council Chambers
Roh’Khan had been waiting for over an hour. Sure, Th’roc son of Terrath, Head of one of the Great Houses of the Klingon Empire was a busy man, but Matron was right about one thing; he could make the time for what he believed was important enough, and that clearly didn’t seem like his family right now. The Lethean Political Aid would come in from time to time, always apologizing for the Councilmen’s busy schedule, assuring him he will be here ‘sometime soon’ and checking a few things on the screen before hurrying off again, leaving Roh’Khan alone in the chambers. All he could do was cross his arms and grumble in annoyance as he waited some more.
A few Hours Prior
Roh’Khan: “So what did you find out?”
Becca: “General Reports that the kid fell victim to mIl’oDmey, but his wounds are too…light for that. They maul and gash their victims, the kid only had a few scratches and deep puncture wounds.”
Roh’Khan: “General consensus?”
Becca: “Id say Bar Fight gone bad. Someone could have easily made more wounds post-mortem to make it look like an animal attack.”
Roh’Khan: “So Murder?”
Becca: “I don’t know…but I do know that the d’k tahg burned with the body did not belong to the boy…”
Roh’Khan: “Couldn’t he have lost it in the hunt?”
Becca: “Yea, but you think Matron would have said something, went through hell to ensure his honorable blade was at his side in the end after all the fanfare she went through to call in the family.
Roh’Khan: “True. So she’s covering something up…wonderful.”
Becca: “Look, whatever it is, just be careful in there. Ill ask around and see if I can dig up anything more concrete when we get into the city.”
His mental flashback was interrupted as the Lethean once again entered the room, “Captain Roh’khan?” he called out. The captain turned to face the aid, who was withdrawn by the door, “The councilman will see you now.” He stated, stepping back and holding his arm to guide the way. ‘Finally…’ Roh’khan thought, though something felt off.
The two traversed the corridors of the Great Hall, leading into one of the hidden courtyards for staff and councilmen away from the public eye. There, he saw Th’roc by one of the fountains. He was a large man, who bore battle scars of a warrior, draped in custom attire fitting of a Great Council Member.
“Captain Roh’khan, son of None, of My House Name. Zel here says you wish to speak with me, a matter of ‘great importance to the House of Terrath’ is that correct?” The Patriarch inquired, slowly turning to face him. “No, I am here at the behest of our Matron, nothing more.” Th’roc nodded, and slowly began to approach, circling the Acamarian. Roh’khan noticed that they were indeed not alone in this alcove, as he could see the silhouettes of other warriors off in the distance watching intently. “So YOU don’t wish to speak to me, you are merely a puppet of that lo’laHbe’ qan cha’qu’ I banished to the Main House? She was the one who inducted you into our house was she not, bathed you in our blood? How loyal you must be to your precious Matron.”
“I am only here to seek an answer on her behalf, I have no part in whatever there is between you two.” Roh’khan stated firmly, standing his ground, yet lowering his head in submissive respect to his house patron.
Th’roc rushed forward, Roh’khan took a step back in anticipation, but he only faced a stern finger in his face from the larger Klingon. “And let me guess? She wishes to know why her boy is dead, and not me? Or did she send you here to finish the job?!” He snarled, a mere inches from Roh’khan’s face. In the distance, the guards had closed in some from the rush of movement, but were still holding position a way back. “Once again Roh’khan raised his hands as a sign of submission, “Nothing of the sorts, she only wished you to explain why you were not in attendance.”
“LIES!” Th’roc shouted, turning his back to Roh’khan and pointing to one of the fountains. Out from behind the pillar, a guard emerged with a bound and gagged Becca in tow. “I found your SPY meddling around in the city asking about the boy! Do not take me for a fool Boy! I know what your after! I know why Matron wanted me at that farce of a ceremony, to accuse me of her boys death, belittle me in front of the family, to play victim to grader support from people like YOU and challenge my place as Head of the House!”
Roh’khan fists clinched, though he dare not raise them (yet). “Well did you kill him?” He snapped, the tone of voice a little less passive as before. Th’roc gave a malevolent grin. “See for yourself!” he bade, pointing his hand at a blank wall as a screen appeared.
The security footage shows Matron’s son barging into Th’rocs private quarters in the dead of night, he was clearly intoxicated beyond all hope. Though there was no audio, he could tell there was shouting between the two. Th’roc tried to shove the child out of the room, but was pushed back. The boy drew for his d’k tahg and lunged at the larger man, who effortlessly threw him aside. More shouting, more berating from the older Klingon, and once again the younger lunged with his blade. Th’roc grabbed his hand as the two struggled for a moment before the blade slipped into the chest of the child, and he crumpled to the floor. Th’roc was visibly furious, roaring and kicking over furniture at what had transpired. As guards finally made their way into the room, the Elder Klingon reached down, performing the death ritual with honor, before motioning for his guards to clean up the mess.
“She filled that boys head with delusions of grandeur, she pushed her own inadequacies into him. He attacked me without Honor! I knew he was young, and stupid! I tried to reason with him, I tried to put him down gently; but he was too headstrong, too stubborn, and too drunk to care! One of us was not leaving that room that night, rather she ordered the hit or he did it out of a sense of duty to her is irrelevant! That’s why she called for that spectacle! She wanted to call me out because she knew DAMN well it was no hunting accident! Her actions would only fracture our family, draw us into a meaningless civil war which would weaken our position among the High Council, and our prestige with the new Chancellor! She cannot face me herself, so she sends high-strung pawns like YOU to do her dirty work, hoping your sense of honor would make you fight me as her Champion!”
Roh’khan only shook his head at this. The worse part was, the entire scenario portrayed by Th’roc, he could fully see Matron trying to do. She was always a conniving individual, but her family position kept her protected. When her son Terrath was killed, it must have shook her senses and sent her into a frenzy.
“So, what say you, Captain? Knowing the truth as you do now, will you continue to serve your Matron… or do what is necessary for the House as a whole, the one you swore a blood oath to uphold?” The Patriarch announced.
“Give me the boys d’k tahg…” Roh’khan settled. Th’rok did not leave his eyes off the Acamarian as he withdrew the blade from his belt and threw it at his feet. Roh’Khan bent down and collected the blade, sheathing it into his own belt. “Matron was the closest thing I had to a mother, she taught me what it was to be Klingon, to be a part of this family. Her actions here goes against everything she has taught me. Her measures are more Romulan than Klingon, and if I don’t kill you here and now, she will only find someone else, or worse spread her falsehoods to another house for support. She is a blight upon this house, who has hidden behind stature for too long, and I will not see her undo everything we have built.”
Roh’Khan placed his palm into his mouth and swiped across, cutting into his hand drawing blood. Red-Green droplets fell to the ground as he held out his hand to Th’roc. “I, Roh’Khan, Son of None, of House Terrath will do my duty to my family and house, and end this madness once and for all. To you, I swear.”
Th’roc was hesitant at first, but he too withdrew his own blade, cutting into his palm, and clasping their hands together. “Duty, for the sake of the house, is never easy. The burden you take on, is not light. You have my respect, brother.” As they released their hold, Th’roc motioned for Becca to be released, and she quickly hurried to the side of her Captain.
The two departed the Great Hall in silence, Roh’Khans hand never leaving the gifted blade at his hip…