Obfuscation

 Episode Name:  Obfuscation

   Written By:  Fortunae

         Cast:  Cerene, Churas, Cristobal, Fortunae, Klingon, Rivers and Sulkat.

  Produced By:  Starfleet

  Directed By:  Fortunae

     Aired On:  Fri Mar 28 23:30:54 2003

     Stardate:  53102

Time: Fri Mar 28 15:17:11 2003

Stardate: 53101.1

H'atoria - world of fog and jagged peaks interspersed with deep valleys where the colony's industry and residential areas are. In the Federation, this world would have been terraformed so the zone where the atmospheric gases was uniform about the planet instead of a (relatively) narrow zone of breathable air. Below the alpine valleys the atmosphere becomes more and more carbon monoxide, poisonous and corrosive - too high in the peaks and the oxygen ratio becomes too high leading to euphoria and a victim laughing himself to death while his eyes dry out and his skin begins to peel. H'atoria is a world rich in heavy and industrial metals, as well as rare radioactives -- controlled by a collection of minor Klingon houses and worked mainly by contracted or feudal labor, the world of H'atoria supplies the Klingon war machine and will be an important strategic asset during the post Dominion war period as the Klingons rebuild their losses.

The Klingon B'rel that has brought the task force to this Klingon world slows it's rate of impulse and turns into the wispy clouds that fill the atmosphere of this primal planet. After moments of descent the view beneath the nose of the venerable Klingon vessel begins to fill with willow-wisp points of light, which grow and grow as the vessel sinks into the clouds until finally through a haze the walled cliff city that is their destination manifests like a dream gaining clarity. The B'rel flies low over the groundside spaceport, passing over many other landed vessels -- military in nature and of the commercial variety. Extending it's landing gear, the B'rel hovers over it's designated landing spot and then settles heavily onto the duracrete with a solid *THUNG*.

Moments later, with a hydrolic whine, the debarkation ramp moves down to touch the surface, clouds of steam and air vapor roiling away from it's progress while light streams out of the craft into the night time darkness and fog. Across the Tarmac a sleek shaped and armored hover vehicle sends the fog coiling out in a wake of it's passage, finally coming to a stop near the ramp. A single Klingon dismounts from the vehicle and strides up the ramp, his boots making a distinct rattle as they impact on the metal grid of the ramps inner surface. At the top of the ramp he finds what can only be the task force -- The grizzled veteran Gorgha, the youthful warrior maiden Gr'lah, the proud Starfleet officers in mustard collars, and the little female without a uniform, clearly the diplomat. He stops and hails them in greeting.

"Q'pla!" Churas, who has been revelling rather openly in being, for the first time in many months, in the overwhelming company of fellow Klingons, takes the fore in answering the hail of greeting. She strides forward, offering her hand and forearm in greeting to the incoming individual, offering her name and introducing the rest of the task force. "Churas, daughter of Gr'laH. The rest of the task force: Gorgha, son of Klakk, Aliana Cerene, Ambassador's Aide to Ambassador S'Terik, and Lieutenants Rivers, Cristobal, and Sulkat, Security officers from Station 419. We greet you."

Rivers uncoils herself from her propped position against the wall, quickly adjusting her equipment belt and turning to face the visitor at the hatch. There's a grim smile upon her face as she nods a greeting after the introductions.

Sulkat nods slightly upon the mention of his name, but his eyes don't appear willing to remain focused anywhere in particular for any particular length of time. His posture is, as always, bolt-upright straight, and his hands remain within touching distance of his hips, hanging loosely at his sides. His face wears a vaguely uncomfortable expression.

Cristobal steps out onto the ramp and eyes the world around him, or what little is visible of it through the thick fog. He inclines his head to the Klingon when Churas mentions his name.

The Klingon nods to each as introduced then says, "I am Korg son of Brak'tk. I have come from the Governor's council to fetch Gorgha son of Klakk and Ambassador Cerene. They would have words with these two regarding this matter and others. I also bring you the communication's frequencies to contact the Krt'ChuNG's captain Molar, son of Vuchang so you may go about your business. We go, Q'pla!" That said he hands takes a script of paper from a pocket in his warrior vest and offers it over to Churas, then he turns expecting Gorgha and Cerene to follow. Gorgha realizing there is little choice in this matter takes his medical kit and bat'leth in either hand, Cerene musters a confident expression and follow them down ramp, side-stepping around Cristobal. In a moment they are all in the hover car, and it drives off across the tarmack until it is lost in the dark and fog.

Churas hefts her own bat'leth in her off hand, accepting the paper and the instructions. With all appropriate formal farewells given to Gorgha and Cerene, the remaining Klingon calls up to the bridge of the Mor'luch. With a few words exchanged in her guttural native tongue along the lines of 'here are the communication frequencies, please patch us through' to the captain, the task is completed, and a comm link to the Krt'ChuNG's captain begun.

Rivers doesn't have a bat'leth. But she does pat her own weaponry for reasurance. Waiting for the communcations to be established, she peers out the hatch. "Lovely planet," she murmers softly, glancing to Churas."

Sulkat peers into the fog, eyes slightly narrowed, still wearing that uncomfortable expression. Or perhaps it's mildly suspicious. Either way, the proximity of his fingertips to /his/ weaponry suggests that he wouldn't mind patting it in the same way that Rivers did... but he refrains. And remains quietly... well, quiet.

Cristobal nods politely to the Betazoid and the Klingon as the depart down the ramp. Cerene returns the nod, while Gorgha ignores the human. He shrugs at Rivers and says, "Oh I don't know. Jagged peaks. A wild, untamed environment." A grin slips its way onto his face, "It has its attractions."

"Molar speaks, what do you want?" comes the combadge translated response over the combadge. To those present that speak Klingon, this is clearly a polite greeting, but to the uninitiated it surely sounds abrupt and even hostile.

"Q'pla, Captain! I am Churas, daughter of Gr'laH, appointed by Chancellor Martok to the task force which has has your ship held at H'atoria. We require a discussion with you regarding a passenger you carried to Station 419 in the Dulcais Sector, and request permission to come aboard the Krt'ChuNG and speak with you and your crew." Churas shifts her bat'leth idly in her left hand while speaking, and while she offers Rivers a sideward glance and a polite enough nod (one might imagine), Cristobal's words get only a backward glance and slightly narrowed eyes. "We do not wish to hold you longer than necessary."

Rivers stands silently by, letting Churas do the talking. For now at least. She's just here as muscle, wit and eyeballs, figuratively speaking.

Sulkat shifts his balance from one foot to the other in a manner that might be construed as impatient, but aside from that and the movement of his eyes as he continues to peer into the fog, he remains still.

Cristobal grins unrepentantly at Churas' narrowed eyes. He remains silent though as the Klingon woman speaks with the captain.

"I have a prior business matter to conclude. I will meet you at the Impaled Targ in the city in an hour. There I will be dutifully answer your questions and if you need, afterwards bring you to my ship. I am done speaking now." The comsignal cuts off, ending the Captain's direct and to the point conversation.

That seems to be about what Churas expected, if her expression is any indication. "Hm." That's about all she says, however, before turning back to face the Starfleet Officers. "The answer to this question will likely be no, but I should ask it: has any of you /not/ in the course of your career killed a sentient?" She straightens her armor one-handedly, explaining, "If the answer is yes, please, if you are offered bloodwine, defer. Drink baghol instead. I would prefer not to have an incident if the Captain decides to try to make pleasant conversation." That said, she seems ready to depart without further delay.

Rivers lifts an eyebrow, her expression one of amusement. She gives her belt another tug. "Not I."

Sulkat shrugs. "If Jem'Hadar count as sentient," he mutters after a couple of moments, under his breath... but no doubt just loud enough to be easily audible. In a louder tone, he simply states, "Not a problem, here." Still eyeing the fog suspiciously, mind.

Cristobal doesn't directly Churas' question, as she knows his answer. He instead offers Rivers and Sulkat the one additional piece of advice he knows and imagines is appropriate for the situation. "You don't have to eat the gagh, but don't ask for a grilled cheese sandwich instead."

As the Task Force is preparing to depart, the heavy bootsteps of Captain RoQ'Chue carry to them well in advance of his arrival. "Starfleet," he begins with a friendly growl from the back of his throat in his accented Federation Standard, "Do you all have personal weapons? I mean blades -- your Phasers may be unwise to use here. I will explain. Because of the balance of gasses, our altitude is breathable, but too far up or below and the atmosphere becomes toxic. Your phaser shots, if they miss a target, can go to high or too low and case a reaction. Like setting the sky above us on fire explosively. It is advised such weapons be not used here -- if you do not have such I will have Churas fetch you some from the arms lockers."

Churas, wearing a dk'tagh and carrying a bat'leth, idly shifts the latter in her hand as she glances over at the officers.

Rivers pats the leather sheath inside her boot, grinning. "I have a blade, thanks." She thinks about it for a moment, then tugs up the leg of her trousers and unstraps the knife. Straightening, she attaches it at her waist instead. "Okay."

Sulkat shakes his head, once, looking up momentarily to frown at the sky. Eyes lowering again, he glances at Rivers and asks quietly, "I'd really rather not carry a knife or a blade that I'm not comfortable with, if you don't have a problem with that, ma'am. It would only be a disadvantage. If I can't use my phaser here, I'd rather go without."

Perhaps to somebody's surprise, Cristobal nods. He says, "Back in the duffel in our quarters," and promptly excuses himself. A minute later he returns with a straight-bladed sword, roughly a meter in length from pommel to tip, strapped to his back in a scabbard.

The capatain is a bit surprised that the Federation officers are for the most part carrying blades already, after Cristobal's return he shrugs and clomps back down the corridor the way he came, his part complete in this matter.

Rivers gives Sulkat a hard look. "Alright. It's your hide. But I can see your point."

Churas eyes Rivers for a long moment once she reveals her knife. Cultural proclivities toward not hiding one's weapons and all. Still, she shrugs it off -- as well as Sulkat's refusal of a weapon -- and blinks at Cristobal's sharp pointy thing retrieval. Hunh. Go figure. "And /now/ we depart."

Buildings of blocky angle and line are hinted at in the fog and mist the swirls at each step of passage. It was simple enough to ask for directions to the Impaled Targ at the starport, and finding it to be only a mild hike away the investigation team forwent any vehicle rentals and instead set off into the night. They occassionally pass groups or individual Klingons, and in these passings there is the occassional curious glance or expression of surprise at the presence of uniformed Starfleet officer -- but H'atoria is a planet were privacy is a valued thing, and the Klingons they pass having no wish to explain thier own business, leave thier wonder at the presence of Starfleet as unasked questions.

As they near the neighborhood where the Impaled Targ is, the pass before an more narrow alley passage, fog roiling in it's outline frame -- and as they pass....

<CONTEST> Churas contests her Search skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Fails!

<CONTEST> Cristobal contests his Search skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Rivers contests her Search skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Sulkat contests his Search skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Fails!

Churas, perhaps a little more wrapped up than she'd like to be in the fact that she's on a Klingon planet for the first time in months, keeps her eyes forward, following the directions given toward the Impaled Targ and drinking in the sights and sounds around her... well. So long as they happen to be, you know. Blatantly evident sights and sounds.

Rivers stops as they pass the alley, her right hand immediately going to the blade at her hip, the left coming up in a halting motion. Might be normal on a Klingon world, but she's not Klingon. "Hold on."

Sulkat halts a few feet behind Rivers, raising a curious eyebrow. He peers into the fog, keeping quiet for now.

Cristobal hears it too, and his hand also goes to his belt. Rather than reaching for a weapon, though, he instead gets his tricorder, flipping it open and scanning the alleyway for any apparent threats the device might be able to detect.

<CONTEST> Cristobal contests his Personal Equipment (Tricorder) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Fails!

Churas shifts her bat'leth into a two-handed grip, holding it down and across herself still, as she turns to glance over her shoulder at Rivers. "What is it?" Her eyes flick between the security officers and then to the surrounding area.

Rivers nods to the alley. "Don't know. Sounds like a fight or someone being attacked..." She glances quickly to Cristobal. "Anything on that tricorder?"

Cristobal murmurs softly in Federation Standard, "I'm only detecting one life form, about two meters into the alley." He frowns and says, "This is speculative, but that sound could have been something not currently alive being dragged."

Rivers nods. "It could have been." She glances at the rest of the team. "Lights. I'd like to see what's down that alley." It probably isn't smart, maybe not even their business, but since they were supposed to meet someone here...she glances toward Churas, lifting an eyebrow slightly.

Sulkat frowns. No, that would be too weak a word. He scowls. And, to be honest, it suits him. "Curiosity killed the cat... ma'am," he comments in his crisp British accent, quietly. Still peering into the fog. He doesn't even glance at his phaser.

Cristobal sets the tricorder back into his utility belt and aims his right wrist at the alley. He sets the brightness to maximum and then activates the light.

The Bright light from Cristobal's wrist, being at maximum, lights up the fog but has little penetration effect. It does however make the area just in front of Cristobal light up a in a sphere of light, probably visible from quite some distance. Perhaps in response to the light, perhaps in response to hearing Federation standard being spoken back and forth in a clipped fashion, a voice -- weak but vaguely familiar -- comes out of the alley sounding something like "Tar'fle".

<CONTEST> Churas contests her Intellect (Perception) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Succeeds!

"Captain?" This is called into the alley by the Klingon female as Churas, apparently, immediately places the voice. She glances aside at Rivers, then to her left, and then to Cristobal and her right, before moving toward the alley's mouth slowly, mouthing the name 'Molar' aside to Rivers. Her bat'leth is kept down, weapon at standby, in a manner of speaking.

Rivers makes a cutting motion to Cristobal. "Dim the light. Try and focus it ahead of us." Having strapped her own on to her left wrist, she flips it on to its dimmest setting. She holds the light out away from her body and unsnaps the catch on the knife's sheath, remembering the warning about phasers. There's a nod to Churas when she looks her way, and she approaches the alleyway as well.

Sulkat stays in the rear, but also moves towards the alley, clearly wary of a trap of some sort. But doesn't strap a light to either of his wrists. Two lights should be enough, and he might need to use his wrists should things turn bad, considering his decisive lack of a blade.

As Cristobal recalls, they were coming here to meet a Klingon Captain. He scowls as he tightens the beam and lowers its intensity. "Someone beat us here," he grumbles as he follows Churas and Rivers into the alley.

"/Captain,/" repeats Churas more emphatically, moving much more rapidly into the alleyway once she spots the body. "You could say that, Son of Eduardo. His status, now." Her tone as she speaks the Klingon words is quick and clipped -- though not overtly rude -- as she approaches the body propped up against the wall, her eyes quickly scanning the surrounding area. "Captain, it is Churas. Speak to me."

Rivers mutters a soft curse, approaching the body with Churas once the lamps have identified it. Kneeling, she pulls her own tricorder free, looking behind her to Cristobal and Sulkat. "Scan for anyone else in this alley," she orders, while turning the scanner on. She runs a pass over the Klingon..

Sulkat nods, but doesn't bother to actually direct the nod in Rivers direction. Instead, he uses the time that would've required to whip out his tricorder, open it, and scan the alleyway as ordered.

Sulkat reveals his Tricorder.

Cristobal takes out his tricorder as ordered, and begins to scan the alleyway. As he does so, he says, "Sir, recommend we contact the Mor'luch and have ourselves and Captain Molar beamed back. In addition, we should recall Gorgha, as it looks like we'll be needing his medical talent more than his diplomacy."

The Klingon opens his eyes bleerily...grapsing the young warrior's armor in fingers that are rapidly lossing strength, her feet caused small ripples in his life's blood. He opens his mouth to speak, having difficulty forming the words -- any words -- and then, a deeper inhalation. He clenches the armor a bit stronger, pulling her down towards him a bit -- "Ruuuurrraaaa Penthe" he gasps, and then light leaves his eyes and his hand falls away to land in his own blood with a splattering sound.

Even as this event sinks in to their understanding, from deeper in the alley comes a chuckling conversation of Klingons. Klingons who step into the light even as tricorders reveal them. Klingons numbering 4, and who's eyes widen in surprise at what they see before them. "MURDERERS!" One of them roars, and with that they all charge towards the members of the task force pulling weapons as they close...

GAME: Churas spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Churas (claiming advantage) contests her Primitive Weaponry (Bat'leth) skill vs Klingon's Bat'leth skill and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Churas (claiming advantage) contests her Primitive Weaponry (Bat'leth) skill vs Klingon's Primitive Weaponry (Bat'leth) skill and Fails!

<CONTEST> Klingon contests his Primitive Weaponry (Bat'leth) skill vs Churas's Primitive Weaponry (Bat'leth) skill (given advantage) and Dramatically Fails!

Churas, who had started to crouch near the captain, brings her bat'leth up in the same sort of hooking, one-handed attack that netted her that significant first kill on s419. Unprepared and fighting one-handed, she manages to catch her quarry off-center nevertheless as her attacker manages to completely fail to block the shoddily-aimed blow. She attempts to come to her feet before the next round thereafter, snarling, "I am Churas, daughter of Gr'laH, and we did not harm this male!" ... for all the good it'll likely do.

<CONTEST> Klingon contests his Primitive Weaponry (Bat'leth) skill vs Rivers's Dodge skill and Fails!

<CONTEST> Rivers contests her Primitive Weaponry (Knife) skill vs Klingon's Primitive Weaponry D'k Tagh skill and Succeeds!

One of the Klingons roars as he sweeps his blade towards the female security officer... and is even more surprise when she easily ducks and weaves around his arm that sent the strike and brings her own weapon to bear...

Rivers was in a half-kneeling position over the captain when the foursome arrived. She quicky stands, pulling the knife free with her right hand. She parries with another of the oncoming attackers, stepping free of the captain's body and the oncoming blade. Her knife cuts into the Klingon's arm holding the blade, slicing it open from elbow to wrist.

<CONTEST> Klingon contests his Primitive Weaponry (Bat'leth) skill vs Sulkat's Unarmed Combat (Aikido) skill (given advantage) and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Sulkat contests his Fitness (Vitality) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

The shortest Klingon of the group, but the one with the most spectacular beard, sweeps his Bat'leth up then down in a weaving pattern as he charges the human furtherst back from the body. He roars with passionate indignation even as the human moves with surprising swiftness to divert and redirect his attack by turning his arm -- but this Klingon is no fool, and he releases the bat'leth with the arm that Sulkat has grabbed with his Aikido technique, catching it's tail with the other hand and bringing the round handle across the humans skull with a sharp *krack* sound...

<PROVE> Sulkat has the merit of Martial Artist at 2.

<CONTEST> Sulkat (claiming advantage) contests his Unarmed Combat (Starfleet Martial Arts) skill vs Klingon's Dodge skill and Succeeds!

<PROVE> Cristobal has the merit of Battle-hardened at 3.

<CONTEST> Cristobal (claiming advantage) contests his Unarmed Combat (Starfleet Martial Arts) skill vs Klingon's Dodge skill (given disadvantage) and Succeeds!

Cristobal assesses the situation rapidly. He has a tricorder in his hand and a light on his other. The phaser on his hip could be dangerous if he misses, and he has no illusions about his skill with the sword on his back. He drops the tricorder and turns up the brightness of his wrist light again, but leaves the beam tightened. He then aims the light directly into the eyes of the Klingon who appears to be charging him. The Klingon /ROARS/ as the human, along with everything else in his field of vision, is washed out in a sea of white light. The Klingon makes an attempt to dodge, and raises his bat'leth crossways in an attempt to hopefully block any blows aimed at his head, but Cristobal has anticipated that, and waits for the Klingon's defense. Having seen that, he picks an undefended target, aiming a simple front snap kick in between the Klingon's legs. "Gyaaarrll," is a close approximation of the sound that escapes the Klingon's throat. The bat'leth clatters to the ground, followed in short order by the Klingon himself.

Sulkat takes the blow like a man... that is, he whimpers in an oddly-high-pitched girly tone as the bat'leth cracks against his skull. He remains conscious, though, despite his knees buckling beneath him. With a grunt and a groan, he manages to turn slightly, righting his 'angle of approach'. Pushing upwards from the knees, his fist moves up to slam into the Klingon's jaw in what is clearly a feint (who would punch a Klingon on the jaw and expect to still have knuckles after?)... but unfortunatley, it isn't entirely, as the fist shifts angle slightly and slams instead into the bearded bat'leth-wielders throat.

GAME: Churas spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Churas (claiming advantage) contests her Intimidation (Bluster) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Succeeds!

The Task Force make quick work of disabling or slowing down the Klingon attackers, buying Churas the time she needs to glare her introduction and threaten with her posture until it sinks in. The Klingons, embarrassed at the mistake AND at the whupping they just go, offer to help out -- by going for the Warrior Watch and staying with the body untll they arrive... but first they howl for the stranger.

<CONTEST> Rivers contests her Personal Equipment (Tricorder) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!

GAME: Rivers spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Rivers (claiming advantage) contests her Personal Equipment (Tricorder) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!

Cerene has left.

Cerene has arrived.

Okay. Now she's annoyed, and howls her frustration at the louts. "I /SAID,/ you drunken, deaf p'taQ, that I am /Churas,/ daughter of Gr'laH, killer of the assassin of Ambassador B'val, and /we are not the attackers!/" On her feet now, the female snarls and smacks the flat of her bat'leth against her thighs, tilting her chin up defiantly; her whole manner just /screams,/ 'c'mon, give me more of a reason to beat on you.' With a snarl, she takes a step toward them, and, once it sinks in and embarassment sets in thereafter, she lowers her weapon in order to kneel by the Captain and peel back his eyelids, as is traditional.

Rivers waits for the howling to stop, and with a steely glare makes her way back to the body of the dead Klingon. "I'm going to get a blood-type from the body," she says to the rest of the team, taking a sample and then setting the tricorder to work. She soon as a readout of anything pertinate in the Klingon's blood. Lifting her head, she peers intently down the alley. "Now. To find the killer." Putting the tricorder in scan mode, she sets it to scan for a match and stands, her intent clear. Search until she finds a Klingon with matching blood stains.

Sulkat puts a hand to his head, post-head shaking. "Who needs a blade," he mutters quietly to nobody in particular, rubbing at the patch which will no doubt develop into the mother of all bruises. Still, ever-polite, he does state to the Klingon who no doubt has a very sore throat and who gave him said pain, "Sorry about that." And he's apparently not being sarcastic, either - he even sounds it. Or he's gooding at masking said sarcasm. Which... not many people actually are after being clouted around the head with a bat'leth.

<CONTEST> Klingon contests his Unarmed Combat (Mok'bara) skill vs Cerene's Unarmed Combat (Mok'bara) skill and Succeeds!

Strangely enough, Cristobal joins Churas and the other Klingons as they howl to the dead to inform them of the imminent arrival of Captain Molar. When they have finished, Cristobal says quietly, "I'd want them to respect my rituals," to his fellow officers, expecting he's getting an odd look or two.

The tricorder in Rivers' hand beeps. "Got it," she says grimly. Switching hands to put the knife back in her right, she steps off down the alley. "Lets go, quickly. Watch yourselves," she orders before stepping into the fog with hurried steps.

Churas howls her heart out, and, in truth, it's her that gives Cristobal the first odd look. It's not a disapproving look, mind, rather just kind of an odd one. She's distracted by Rivers's words, however, and follows after the Lieutenant, weapon low but ready. Yeah, so she can't find a body in an alleyway. She can kill assassins, that much she knows.

Through the twisting fog and deceptive darkness the away team follows the tracks of Captain Molor's killer with the clever use of the security tricorder module as applied by Lt Rivers. The Klingon warriors were left behind with the body -- there was little reason to stay on site since they are likely the only humans on the planet (Churas excluded of course) -- if the Klingons want to find them or keep them from leaving, that's not going to be a difficult matter to arrange.

Finally thier downward course leads them out into the open widened street of the cliff wall around the edge of the colony -- beyond the 15 foot tall wall is a plunge out of the alpine valley the mining township is build upon and a plummet into the deadly carbon monoxide depths that lay below the narrow strip of breathable atmosphere. As they move into the open from the street a silky voice comes to them in cultured Imperial High Klingon (the dialect of the Great Houses).

"Ah... so you have found a way to follow me -- my respect for Starfleet, such as it is, grows and grows. Now, before you try anything foolish, I should show you something." From his place up on the wall's edge the large Klingon figure pulls something -- no, someone -- from behind his back and up thier feet. There is a small noise of pain from the figure, since the Klingon is using her hair to pull her forward. In a dramatically blessed moment of atmospheric dynamics the fog swirls out and clear and the team can see the hands bound behind her back form of 2nd Legate Intern Aliana Cerene in the clutches of the villain who taunts them.

Cerene cries out as she's pulled up by her hair. Her dark eyes are burning with fury, her sharp soprano voice ringing out with indignance. "Don't worry about me... get this son of a bitch!"

<CONTEST> Churas (claiming advantage) contests her Planetary Tactics (Small-unit) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Fails!

Apparently Churas takes Cerene at her word -- and a Klingon would -- raising her bat'leth and screaming her response. "This is not our way! Let the Legate go and face me!" Suicidal? Maybe. But it is what it is.

A rich, rolling chuckle comes from the Klingon bearing the Ambassador. "I don't accept challenges from children little Churas daughter of Gr'lah -- and since you've yet to undergo your rite, blooded or not, you are still a child. It would not be our way for me to barter with a *warrior*, but this is a betazoid -- a species distinctly proven to be anything but a warrior, and therefore chattel, and therefore negotiable as any other product.

Rivers narrows her eyes up at the Klingon on the ledge. Her knife is gripped tightly in her hands, the civilian Cerene given a concerned glance. She is Dana's first responsibility at the moment. "Then perhaps you'll accept a challenge from me," she growls. "Or are you too much a coward to face a woman who's hands are not bound?" Taking a step forward, Dana spits in the dirt. "I spit on your honor! Let her go and prove it."

Again the warm chuckle rolls through the mists, but the Klingon tugs on Cerene's hair again at the coward accusation. "Human woman, it would be best for you and your crew and this one here if you left now. If you leave now I will spare her life -- if you provoke me she /will/ die." He seems to cock his head for a moment then as if considering..."Then again... it might be more fun to kill you. Fine. Starfleet." This last bit spit out like a name that is reserved for the worst of things, as if the tongue is insulted by merely forming it. "First you woman. Then tall male. Then the other. And after all of you are dead... maybe I'll entertain the little girl's challenge as well." He gestures with his other hand and points through the fog towards a stair case up to the wall level, then he sneers with cool confidence.

GAME: Cristobal spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Cristobal (claiming advantage) contests his World Knowledge (H'atoria) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!

Cristobal racks his brains, given the unusual atmosphere of the planet, trying to recall whether a beamout is advisable or not. Unable to recall any details, he remains silent, not willing to gamble the Betazoid's life on an uncertainty.

. o O Cristobal uncertain, frustrated.

Cerene struggles a bit, tugging at her ropes. "Oh, he's a coward alright. So much of a coward that he has to *jump* me to capture me. He can't even take a Betazoid woman in a fair fight," she mocks.

. o O Churas's fury is overwhelming, simply /raging./

Klingon whispers to Cerene, " You would do well to /shut your mouth/ mind witch or I'll just toss you over the side and be done with you."

<CONTEST> Churas (claiming advantage) contests her Planetary Tactics (Small-unit) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

An incredible snarl goes up from Churas in response, but, after a moment, she lowers her weapon, as if conceding the rightness of it. She steps aside, gesturing to Rivers to go forward, and then glances to Cristobal, then up to Cerene, letting her now-freed hand drop loosely down next to her dk'tagh.

Rivers starts for the stairs, but she turns her head toward Cristobal first. "Get the Legate to safety," she mutters under her breath. With a nod to Churas, she marches up the steps to the Klingon, knife gripped and ready in her hand. Never one to put off the enevitable, she doesn't even pause, but charges him. He'll let go of Cerene one way or another.

<CONTEST> Rivers contests her Primitive Weaponry (Knife) skill vs Klingon's Primitive Weaponry (D'k Tagh) skill and Fails!

Cristobal nods in response to Rivers, saying, "If you can, leave him alive, he's got some questions to answer," When she charges and the fight begins, /he/ then runs to the base of the wall below them and yells, "Legate! Jump!" holding his arms out.

GAME: Cerene spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Cerene contests her Unarmed Combat (Mok'bara) skill vs Klingon's Unarmed Combat (Mok'bara) skill (given disadvantage) and Fails!

<CONTEST> Cerene (claiming advantage) contests her Unarmed Combat (Mok'bara) skill vs Klingon's Unarmed Combat (Mok'bara) skill (given disadvantage) and Succeeds!

GAME: Cristobal spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Cristobal (claiming advantage) contests his Athletics (Lifting) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

It is then, as the Klingon's attention is pulled away by Rivers' advance, that Cerene makes her move. She forces herself off the Klingon's arm, her fingers clutching and tearing the sleeve off his clothes. She delivers a sharp kick to the back of his leg before jumping down to Christobal.

The Klingon roars in rage as Cerene's kick to the back of leg and tugging of his arm leaves him clutching only a handful of her hair, the roar turns into a sound of surprise as the shift of his balance drives him onto the knife of Dana Rivers that he had just evaded a breath before. Cerene plummets off the wall towards Cristobal, and the Klingon brings his other arm, the one with the knife up with a sharp twisting motion..

<CONTEST> Klingon contests his Primitive Weaponry (D'k Tagh) skill vs Rivers's Primitive Weaponry (Knife) skill and Succeeds!

...driving it up and into the flesh of her abdomen, under her sternum. A wash of hot human blood shoots down his arm as he locks his eyes into hers, saying -- "Today /is/ a good day to die!" He then pulls the handle of his blade sidewise, bringing his arm up against her shoulder with such force that there is no way to resist what is to follow.

They both vanish over the other side of the wall.

A /howl/ goes up from Churas as she watches the scene play out before her; it's a scream of frustration, at first, and then a warrior's howl. She is, Cristobal will realise, the same howl she put up not too long ago for the Captain. She howls for Rivers, for what she knows the only plausible outcome of that scenario to be; she screams a warning to Sto-vo-kor. A warrior comes!

Cristobal plants himself under the leaping Cerene, setting his feet, and bending at the knees. He catches her neatly, and promptly sets her down. He looks up and blinks as Dana and the Klingon vanish. He SLAPS the combadge hard and yells, "Cristobal to Mor'luch! Emergency beamout of Lieutenant Rivers, /NOW!/"

Cerene is caught and set down. Oof. She still clutches the sleeve in her hand.

The only sound then is Churas's howl for several beats of breath until Cristobal's combadge chirps and a Klingon voice comes on over it saying. "If Lt. Rivers will call us we can lock onto her transmission and transport her now. We had to send an officer to the transporter room. Also, Doctor Gorgha asked me to pass along to you that something has happened on the Krt'ChuNG. He went there to meet up with you and Ambassador Cerene and found no trace of any of you, but he did fine the entire crew dead. He also said to inform you it seems that someone has purged all of the ships logs and navigational data. When should we expect Lt River's call for transport?"

GAME: Churas spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Churas (claiming advantage) contests her Culture (Klingon) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Fails!

After her howl dies away, Churas comes over to join the Lieutenant and the Adjutant, bat'leth hanging free from her left hand. "Nathan." She shakes her head, putting a hand on his shoulder briefly. "The atmosphere. That wound. The fall. She did not survive. She died a warrrior. Howl for her." Her eyes fall then on the piece of cloth held by Cerene, and her eyes narrow, focusing in on it briefly.

<CONTEST> Cerene contests her Culture (Klingon) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Fails!

Cristobal just listens to that with increasing incredulity. "You stupid /P'taQ!/ What in hell does your worthless translator render "emergency" as?" He taps the badge again, not waiting for an answer, and flings his combadge against the wall. For several moments, he simply stands there, staring at the stone construct. Eventually, he says in a dull voice, "She wasn't a Klingon, Churas. We have our own rites. Cut the legate free. Sulkat, get that idiot back on your comm. Try to explain what happened, and tell them out to locate the Lieutenant's body." He looks at the sleeve Cerene carries and says, "Legate, if I may have that sleeve? It could be evidence as to whoever that bastard was."

Cerene also takes a glance at the cloth in her hand and frowns. "Looks like a House insignia. Although I'm not sure which one, exactly. It's been a few months since I've been out here." She passes it over.

Cristobal accepts the sleeve and adds to Sulkat, "And tell them to beam the Klingon's body aboard as well. I'll bet /this/ one wasn't hiding behind another's face."

"It is," comments Churas in passing. "One of the great houses. I... " And irritation passes over her face, followed by blank confusion. "Her body?" Zuh? "Why?" She shakes her head slightly. "Nathan. Check the symbol against the database in your tricorder. While we wait." There's a clear tone of 'if you'd honor her, honor her sacrifice' to her voice.

. o O Churas is quite disappointed with her lack of ability to identify the sleeve; for a moment, it floods out all other emotions. She isn't bothered by Rivers's death, rather quite the opposite: she's /proud/ of the woman, and, in her own way, celebrating. As she comes closer to the pair, and as she further speaks with Cerene and Cristobal both, it's clear she has some sort of rather strong feelings for the human. The feelings aren't clear or well-defined, though they do bear the earmarks of embryonic love. Likewise, it would seem she's had a seed of genuine respect planted in her for the Betazoid by her self-defense against her captor.

. o O Cristobal feels grief

Cerene remains quiet, frowning up towards the top of the wall.

Cristobal says to Churas, "I have the information. We will discuss it aboard the Mor'luch. One minute, please," he says softly and he walks up the staircase, making his way up to the wall. After one last verification that the impossible has not come true, and Dana isn't right there hanging on for a rescue, he touches his finger to his forehead, his chest, and each shoulder. He says in Latin, "Inclina, Domine, aurem tuam adpreces nostras, quibis misericordiam tuam supplices deprecamur, ut animam famuli tui Percival, quam de hoc saeculo magrare iussisti, in pacis ac lucis regione constituas et Sanctorum tuorum iubeas esse consortem. Per Christum Dominum nostrum. Amen." He turns away and walks back down the stairs.

Cristobal says to Churas, "I have the information. We will discuss it aboard the Mor'luch. One minute, please," he says softly and he walks up the staircase, making his way up to the wall. After one last verification that the impossible has not come true, and Dana isn't right there hanging on for a rescue, he touches his finger to his forehead, his chest, and each shoulder. He says in Latin, "Inclina, Domine, aurem tuam adpreces nostras, quibis misericordiam tuam supplices deprecamur, ut animam famuli tui Dana Rivers, quam de hoc saeculo magrare iussisti, in pacis ac lucis regione constituas et Sanctorum tuorum iubeas esse consortem. Per Christum Dominum nostrum. Amen." He turns away and walks back down the stairs. For those who receive a translation, he said: "Incline Thine ear, O Lord, unto our prayers, wherein we humbly pray Thee to show Thy mercy upon the soul of Thy servant Dana Rivers, whom Thou hast commanded to pass out of this world, that Thou wouldst place him in the region of peace and light, and bid him be a partaker with Thy Saints. Through Christ our Lord. Amen."

<CONTEST> Churas (claiming advantage) contests her Culture (Klingon) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Cerene (claiming advantage) contests her Culture (Klingon) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

While Cristobal prays, Churas turns away. The Klingons killed their gods, after all (they were too much trouble) so she politely declines to look confusedly at his display. She looks off confusedly into the near distance, and then, rather just after the prayer ends, growls, "Of /course./ Sta'TORuk. Now I remember They marry with Gowron's kin." It all makes perfect sense now. Sort of "I have been too long away from Qo'noS," she mumbles, and shakes her head slightly.

Cerene bites her lip softly, as the pattern slowly becomes familiar to her, and Churas' words sink in. This is certainly interesting news... she closes her eye and murmurs a few soft words for the late Lieutenant.

The scene them pulls away and up from the courtyard were Dana River's performed her final service for the Federation and where her opponant performed his final service for whommever his masters were. Another layer peeled and another warrior fallen for boths sides...up into the mist and fog, to the clouds up to the upper atmosphere and then into the Orbital reaches. The planet turns faster as if time was passing quickly then a B'rel class Starship emerges into the cold of space, atmospheric tendrils chasing it for a moment.

"Log of Captain RoQ'Chue. -- My passengers are restless and perhaps even angry that they were unable to recover thier fallen comrade, or the body of her killer. There was nothing I could, the Planetary custom is to never seek out the dead that fall to the depths below, many warrior's former remains are dropped off so that they may not be dishonored. I could not violate the resting place of warriors even to accomodate the needs of our allies, had I tried the residents would no doubt have risen against us in rage and the Chancellor can not affort any further excuses for his enemies to speak poisoned words against his honor. I certainly would not be the one responsible for such an excuse. It is fitting though -- the human lies with honor as she died with honor. Perhaps if she is blessed she will see the well worn path from those depths to Sto'Vo'Kor. In this, I wish her Success!"