Birth of a Warrior

 Episode Name:  Birth of a Warrior

   Written By:  Raijin

         Cast:  Avok, Churas, Gr'laH, Raijin and Vor'mak.

  Produced By:  Starfleet

  Directed By:  Raijin

     Aired On:  Fri Apr 04 23:55:48 2003

     Stardate:  53118.8

Time: Mon Mar 31 23:13:07 2003

Stardate: 53109.1

Within the Ascension chamber on Qo'noS, Churas awaits her greatest trial that will prove she is worthy to be called a Klingon warrior. At the end of the gauntlet stands her father and others who have come to watch the ceremony. The eight Klingons manning the gauntlet, Vor'mak one of them, glare at her impassively as she enters the room. Painstiks at the ready, they wait for her approach...

Avok stands opposite Vor'mak, in full Warrior armor rather than his usual Ambassadorial robes. He was, after all, a Captain before he was a Diplomat. He twists the handle of the painstik, watching sparks fly from the tip with a sort of grim satisfaction before turning his gaze towards Churas. Come on, little one...

Vor'mak waits with a stoic expression on his face. His hands tighten around the handle of his painstik and a small smile curls on to his face.

Churas has a large family. Not a large /immediate/ family? But a large family. A small host of Klingon relatives stand at the end of the gauntlet. The widow of Chu'daQ, Churas' aunt and a warrior as was her Husband. Gr'KOH, one of Gr'laH's younger brothers also stands to await Churas' advance through the gauntlet, along with his wife and their eldest child. In short, it's a bit crowded back there. But Churas is something of a family favorite being Gr'laH's only child. Her Rite of Ascension is not a thing to miss.

And, need we mention, Gr'laH? Apparently we do. He's there as well, dressed in his old armor, scowling down the narrow gauntlet at the girl who approaches it. In deference to the event his eyepatch is not worn, revealing the ugly wound beneath. Only warriors stand in the room, after all. And there's no need to hide such things from fellow warriors.

Churas enters the room, yes. Her chin tilted up with that small measure of defiance that's so her as to be nearly trademarked, her stride confident bordering on leonine, she enters; having entered, she continues her stride unabated directly toward the gauntlet. What, like now is the time to pause? No. Now is the time to stride boldly forward with no hesitation. Thus, this is what she does.

As the young Klingon approaches the gauntlet, the first line prepare themselves and ready their painstiks. Ready, they stand absolutely still and wait for the ritual declaration...and then the approach.

"DaHjaj SuvwI'e' jIH. tIgwIj Sa'angNIS. Iw bIQtIqDaq jIjaH." Today I am a Warrior. I must show you my heart. I travel the river of blood. Churas can speak while moving, after all, and does so. Her pace does not slow or speed up as she approaches said gauntlet, as if she's just taking this all quite literally in stride.

As she enters between the first two Klingons, they lunge forward jab Churas's flesh with the ends of their deadly prods. The stench of burning flesh fills the room as the stiks burn and hiss their challenge to her.

Gr'laH snarls slightly at his daughter's defiant stride. Though, as with most things Klingon, his snarl may not be one of disapproval. Challenge, certainly, but not rebuke. Assuming she can reach him? She's earned that defiance. Assuming she can't...? The recitation of the ritual declaration causes Gr'laH's snarl to heighten, accompanied by a quiet growl. That growl only deepens at the first jabs to taste flesh. It is, apparently, getting good.

Avok only spins his 'stik in his hand. She will get to him, in all due time...

Vor'mak remains motionless but for his eyes as they track Churas on her path.

Now /that'll/ break your stride. And it does. Churas slows almost immediately, a howl of anger and pain splitting her previously defiant expression; mind, the defiance remains, it just slides up and pools in her eyes. The rest of her face is busy expressing, via contortions and grimaces, that thisreallyhurtsthanks. She slows, she howls, she staggers a little, but she doesn't /stop./ "I have given myself into my father's service," as the howls are formed into words, "To remove from my honor the unfit actions of a child!" We'll start today with guilt, on the Profound Expressions Buffet. Moving along to the next portion of the smorgasbord.

Vor'mak's eyes narrow ever so slightly at Churas's declaration yet he maintains his composure and waits patiently, fingers tightening and loosening around the grip of his painstik.

Avok clicks his 'stik up a notch. Why make it easy?

That makes Gr'laH's snarl fade more than a little. It falters just enough to make it known that sometimes these events are two way streets where the testing is concerned. His flagging expression tightens in short order as the old Klingon musters his warrior's scowl and masters himself once more. He shifts his weight, straightens up taller, and waits.

The next line waits with their painstiks held loosely in their hands as each Klingon eyes Churas closely like a hunter eyeing a bleeding targ.

"The Empire... " And as she passes to the second portion of the gauntlet, Churas stumbles -- not an unusual event by far -- and falls to one knee. Her shoulder jerks even as she kneels and is prodded again with the 'stik, and she snarls, pushing herself back up to her feet. Zap. Another one of those profound howls of pain, and she looks down the Gauntlet at her family, gathered there. "The Empire is more than any one of us." Ow. She staggers, but does not -- yet -- stumble again. "More than any one /House./" The simplicity of that compared to her previous statements is... striking, but she spits the words out through her teeth as if they've near-equal gravity.

Avok's time grows near. He double checks to make sure his stik is readied appropriately, and then sets it up a bit, to whatever the Klingon translation of 'hot coffee on crotch" is.

Vor'mak's impassive expression slowly turns in to one of marked interest as Churas gets even closer now. He glances across the gauntlet and stares at Avok in the eyes, ready to time his lunge with the other's. His painstik crackles ever so faintly with built up energy begging to be released.

That causes a more audible growl to surface from Gr'laH, his eye widening in approval. The further his daughter moves along the gauntlet, the more upright and rigid his stance grows. Propriety alone keeps him from roaring his encouragements, though his hand runs through the motions of balling and unballing a fist. Venting tension quietly.

With a nod to Avok, Vor'mak sends his painstik forward in to Churas's tender flesh the moment she passes in front of him. One can't help but think that he's enjoying this as the weapon crackles its approval.

Avok follows suit, twisting the weapon into the younger Klingon with both hands, only narrowing his eyes as the sparks fly from the contact point. Welcome to life, little one.

The stagger and stumble of the last round is repeated, and she falters for a little longer. Lay it on, you two. You know you want to. Hell, from the sound of her snarl, she may even be purposefully stopping, purposefully taking a long moment to get back to her feet. Lay. It. On. Another howl that forms itself into the rough, consonant-heavy speech of her people goes such: "But all... efforts to /preserve/ the Empire mean nothing if... if there is no Honor in them." She tilts her head up to search out her father through the red haze over her eyes as she continues on. "In those efforts." A deep breath as she forges onward, "Without that Honor there may as well /be/ no Empire. It will be a dead thing. A corpse."

The last line of Klingons ready their painstiks as Churas nears the end of the gauntlet. Just one more. Just one more...

Gr'laH stares at Churas through her pause, meeting her gaze as he must now that he has remembered himself. Without approval or disdain, without emotion. Like a corpse, as she said. A dead thing. An empty husk. It may have been his daughter that entered that gauntlet, and it may yet be his daughter that departs it, but so long as she is in it there is only the pain sticks and the warrior that walks between them.

On her feet again, she pushes her way through to the last grouping, and, once more, stumbles. She half-crawls a step or two before getting to her feet. "I hunger to set this right. To right the Honor of the Empire. To reclaim it. From those. Who eviscerate it. In the name of their own power." Only a few steps more, Churas; you can see them through the red haze. She pulls herself free and sways slowly before the grouping of her family at the end. Yeah, so she's swaying. Still. She's standing.

The Klingons in the gauntlet turn off their painstiks and set them aside. As with all good Klingon ceremonies, it's short, sweet, and painful.

Her relatives are quick to roar their approval and celebration as Churas emerges from the gauntlet, though none are more vocal than is Gr'laH. He lifts his arm and stump upward and howls at the ceiling before he grasps Churas roughly by the nape of her neck and shakes her roughly, going so far as to slap her cheek once to help bring her back to awareness. "By the blood of Kahless, you are a Warrior this day! Proven by pain and birthed in blood! Welcome, Churas! It is a good day to die!" His words are thick with pride, his eye brimming with emotion. "By your blood and your blade, you /WILL/ restore the Empire! If there are any capable, surely it must be you!"

Vor'mak crosses his arms and watches the gathering with a satisfied smile. Perhaps a hint of nostalgia creeping in? No, couldn't be. Looking to Avok, he states, "You enjoy using the painstik, Duy'a' Avok."

Avok has left.

All of Churas's profundity was used up in the gauntlet. She allows her father to slap her face and whatnot before catching his wrist on one of the inward swings. That will be enough, now, Dad. Her eyes meet his singular gaze for a long moment, and perhaps the most profound statement of the gauntlet is the silent response given his declaration: if I am capable, it is because I am your daughter.