Alone, in a hibernation chamber, he had slept undisturbed for an unknown amount of years. Through a brutal battle with old enemies that sent a large cruiser drifting aimlessly through space, a rescue by a passing freighter pilot and finally given safe refuge in an undisclosed, underground bunker to where he would not be disturbed, a sign of life came from the chamber. As his finger twitched, a sensor engaged internal lighting. His eyes fluttered as they slowly awoke. His body stiff from his hibernation, he gingerly reached for the release that would open the chamber. Upon it's activation, the chamber opened, he lay still, using his eyes to scan his surroundings.
He found himself in a dimly lit.....dungeon. Surrounding him were torches that mildly burned around him giving off a dull glow. In the distance, he noticed another torch mounted on a wall. Next to it appeared to be an iron door. On the other side of it appeared to be the shadow of a humanoid, standing watch. Thoughts of where he was began to circulate through his mind.
" nugDaq 'oH jIH," he asked quietly as he looked around, slowly getting to a sitting position. He only saw himself surrounded in what appeared to be the old, dark, dungeon like chamber and out of confusion, yelled out "nugDaq 'oh jIH." This time, the humanoid heard and made a fast walk to the chamber.
For a moment that seemed like an eternity, the awakened Emperor sat concerned, watching as the humanoid approached. As he got closer, he realized his concern of him was false, it was one of his own, a young Klingon Warrior dressed in full battle armor and carrying his bat'leth. When he reached the chamber, he knelt before his Emperor in respect and spoke with some relief, "Gorkon, you are finally awake. I have so much to tell you." He then rose to his feet and extended his hand to assist his Emperor to his feet.
Gorkon stood confused, very confused in fact. He asked again, "nugDaq'oH jIH."
"Sir, you are in a safe, undisclosed location. Our hosts have graciously allowed us to keep you safe hear," explained the young warrior.
" chay' tIq ghaj jIH taH QongtaH?" Gorkon asked.
"You have been asleep for about fifty hears," answered the warrior.
Still confused, he looked at the young warrior before him, " 'Iv 'oH SoH?"
"I am Raffah, son of Mukda," he replied.
Still looking at him, Gorkon asked of him, " ta' SoH jatlh tlhIngan?"
" HIja' jIH ta' jatlh tlhIngan," he replied, "What respecting Klingon wouldn't speak his own language?"
For a moment, the two warriors shared a laugh. But, when the laughter died off a bit, Gorkon's confusion still remained but before he could ask another question, Raffah spoke to Gorkon, "Sir, why don't you get yourself together and I will take you to a place where we can eat and make sense of things."
Gorkon, very hungry from his hibernation, liked the idea. He located some diplomat's robes nearby. Putting them on, he joined Raffah as he escorted him to somewhere more hospitable.
Raffah was ever curious about the old Emperor. He was aged but by no means feeble. The effects of long hibernation seem to have little effect on him. Little was said as they walked out of the chamber, up some stairs and eventually to a private dining area. Finding a table to his liking, Gorkon sat down and insisted that his new friend join him, which he did. Raffah turned briefly in his seat towards an open doorway, clapped his hands twice and turned back to Gorkon who was scanning his new surroundings.
The room was a fairly large room with a still-stocked bar in the back. The lighting was just right, not too bright and not dark. The tables all had an oil lamp on each and all were neatly kept and cleaned. The table at which they sat was the only one with a place setting.
"Nice place," commented Gorkon.
"It is," replied Raffah, "their are many here so we rent this one for private Klingon functions."
Before another word could be said, another Klingon dressed in cook's garb brought out a large, covered, silver platter and placed it on the table before them and removed the lid to reveal the delicacy inside, a delicacy that was new and very different to Gorkon.
"I do hope that you enjoy it, Sirs," he said, "I shall bring you drink."
Gorkon looked over the strange meal. It was steaming and grilled to perfection it appeared. The body was split up the middle and it's many "arms" lay in front. Still very confused, he looked to Raffah for an answer.
"It is called grilled Nomad, Sir," explained Raffah, "if you like qagh then you will love this."
"Nomad?" sheepishly replied Gorkon.
"Yes, Sir, I will explain what it is later," answered Raffah, "Please, eat. You'll love it."
With some hesitance, Gorkon did as suggested. Cutting himself a small piece, he placed it in his mouth and savored it, testing out the new delicacy. As he tasted, he looked one way, then another and then at Raffah and shook his head as he slowly chewed and then swallowed.
"You weren't wrong, Raffah," he said with approval, "this is quite good."
"I knew you would like it. We all have come to enjoy it when we can get it," replied Raffah.
As the two warriors dined, the cook returned. He placed two goblets before each. A bottle of prune juice, a pitcher of water and a smaller bottle was also placed. Again, the cook left with only, "enjoy."
As they ate, conversation again began as Gorkon inquired as to where this delicacy that he found an instant love for came from.
"It was introduced to one of our own by a group known as Corsairs," explained Raffah.
"Corsairs?" responded Gorkon with inquisition.
"Yes, they are a well organized group of pirates and most are very good pilots," continued Raffah. "With the exception of a small few, they are hated. We exchanged Blood Wine to learn how to prepare it."
"A good trade, I think," answered Gorkon. "I will have to have a drink with these Corsairs some day. Tell me more about them."
Raffah continued, "Well as I said, they are very good pilots, well organized, quite fearless but can also be reasoned with if you aren't an enemy. I've met some of them a few times and never had any bad encounters with them."
Gorkon then looked on his plate at what was left of the Nomad that he was eating, "And I suppose this was once an enemy?"
"Of the Corsair and most everyone else too," explained Raffah, "except the Outcasts who worship them as Gods."
"So, I sit here eating someone's God?" replied Gorkon with a hint of sarcastic humor.
"Well, yes, but so do many others now," answered Raffah.
After several more minutes, the two finished their meal but remained at the table to continue with drink. The cook removed the dirty dishes and left the two to their peace and conversation as they continued discussing things over Blood Wine.
"So, these Outcasts you mention," asked Gorkon, "what are they?"
Raffah began explaining, "They are actually much like the Corsair. Same heritage, same tenacity, equally good pilots but they are also addicted to a drug they can't live without. In as much as you would think they would be friends, they actually would rather kill each other."
"Interesting," replied Gorkon.
"So far," continued Raffah, "our dealings with them to this point have been fairly neutral."
"So, who is around for us Klingons?" asked Gorkon.
"About 400 or so survived out of some 1,500 that were on three different cruisers. Some 348 men and 52 Klingon females made it and are trying to make their way in this new sector of space," explained Raffah. "We now have 3 ships operating, the Vor'tcha, Gon'shar and our newest one, the K'Tinga."
"Well named I would say," replied Gorkon realizing each name to be a Klingon class of warship from back home.
Before they could continue, each finished their drinks and rose from the table. Raffah then motioned to Gorkon to follow him.
"Sir, this way," he said, "you have much more to learn and much more for me to teach you."
Without hesitation, Gorkon followed.
The two warriors walked side by side down a corridor to a large room. The room was dimly lit with a comm console in the center. As they entered, Raffah motioned to the console, "Sir, this is where your questions will best be answered."
Gorkon stood with his hand together behind his back, his eyes wondering about as Raffah began entering coordinates into the comm system. Then, right before Gorkon, a large star chart appeared seemingly in thin air. "Impressive," commented an astonished Gorkon, "very impressive." Gorkon remained still, his hands still together behind his back, as Raffah began explaining things.
"It took us awhile but we were able to make this star chart," he explained, "We're not sure how accurate it is but with what little information we had, it was the best we could do." Gorkon only nodded his approval, wanting to listen more than anything else.
"This is where we left from, Kronus" began Raffah, pointing to a star on the map, "this is where we were headed but this is where the Romulan ambush took place. This is where things get complex. We know we drifted but in which direction we don't know. So, we triangulated using some other data."
"What other data was available for us to use," asked Gorkon.
Raffah pointed to another point on the map, "this is the Sirius Sector, our current location," he explained. This was the 2nd point of reference we used, the human home world of Earth being the the third. It is a best guess scenario but we are fairly confident in that guess."
"So where were we found?" inquired Gorkon.
Raffah then changed the map to a map of the Sirius Sector and pointed to Omicron Minor. Upon touching the screen, a map of the sector appeared. "It was deep in this sector that we were found by a human freighter. He then transported us to this base in Omicron Theta," explained Raffah,"a Zoner base coded Freeport 9. After a medical check, we were taken to New York sector in Liberty Space and then finally here." With each point that he mentioned, he showed the point on the map.
"We have travelled a long way indeed," commented the Emperor, closely studying the map. Raffah only nodded in agreement and replied with, "Sir."
"So what else is in this....Sirius Sector?" asked Gorkon.
"Well, you have four areas known as House space," he began, "Liberty, Kusari, Bretonia and Rheinland. Then you have several independent worlds and Border Worlds."
Gorkon stood in though, scratching his chin as he thought out loud to himself. "Liberty, Kusari, Bretonia, Rheinland............New York sector." He then turned to Raffah and with a puzzled look said, "those are Earth names."
"Yes, Sir, they are," he replied, "what is now known as Old Earth. It would appear that while we drifted in hibernation, Earth went into a final World War and some ships bearing the house names fled and wound up here. Like us, those aboard the ships also hibernated. The records we found also listed another ship, the Hispania that was lost. It's wreckage was later found."
"So that explains the systems," commented Gorkon. "What isn't explained are the terms of Zoner, Corsair, Outcast....."
"Molly, Gaian, Rogue, Xeno, Chrysanthemum, Hessian and a good many other names," interrupted Raffah. "It would appear, that like on Kronus when Klingons fought for individuality, it is happening again here in Sirius. Earth all but died for it. The struggle of ideals remains but now it is just more spread out.
"What else can you tell me, Raffah?" asked the Emperor, "you have my curiosity.
"Well, Sir, those other terms. Zoner, Corsair and Outcast, I'll continue with those," said Raffah. "The Zoners are those who come from all walks of life. Former military, traders, farmers, criminals, miners and others who didn't want to continue there old way of life, who didn't want to live under house governments and began working together. Since they come from all those walks of life, they seem to be able to relate to everyone and do business with all. And if I don't say so myself, I think they've done it admireably."
"Interesting," commented Gorkon with a perplexed look, "and no one.......minds this?"
"Well, militaries are bothered by the clientel at there bases but since many are former military and they have formed a tight and powerful conglomerate, they are respected."
"So, what of these others you mention, Corsairs and Outcasts?" inquired Gorkon as he studied the system map before him.
"They are actually very much related," began Raffah. "They came from the Hispania. The Outcasts stayed where they were while the Corsairs continued on. They share common names and common enemies and are all very skilled pilots but for some reason, they hate each other."
Gorkon began to pace, thinking of everything he had been told. As he paced, he kept his eyes on the map before him. Raffah stood fast, answering any question that was asked and pulling up data on a computer as needed. The more Gorkon heard, the more he realized how much of a different sector of space he was in. As they conversed, a lone messenger stood at the door, excusing himself at the intercom.
"My apologies, Sir, but this message arrived," said the messenger. The door was opened, the message delivered and the human messenger quietly walked away. Raffah read the message as a look of concern crossed his face.
"Liberty has declared war on Rheinland," he read quietly to which Gorkon turned in great concern.
Raffah, taken aback himself, was a visibly concerned. "Sir, we need to get the Klingons living in those houses out. It isn't their war."
"No, Raffah, it isn't," began Gorkon, "but remember who we are. We are warriors and if some choose sides then it's their business. We can only hope they fight with honor and die in the same way if that happens."
Raffah then began searching his database of Klingon crews. "Who do we have in those houses?" asked Gorkon.
"Well, Sir, Commander Korg and his crew are in Liberty. They set up a small base on planet Houston. They provide mercenary services in the area and Commander Vragel has her crew in the area. They're new so they haven't chosen there way yet," explained Raffah.
"If Korg is anything like his father was then he has already chosen a side and will fight to the death," replied Gorkon. "And Vragel? Any commanding Klingon female is tough to deal with. I pity whoever gets on her bad side."
"And sir, our only other crew up is with the Zoners so he won't be taking sides," commented Raffah.
"No, he won't," responded Gorkon, "but he will watch any bases in the hot zones and defend them. He's an experienced commander even if he is cranky and often aggressive. I think it's time we find out what other Klingons are out there and start pulling them together."
Gorkon had kept to himself for a very long time, studying charts of where he was, where he came from and how he and his kind arrived in such a place. Study as he may, he finally gave up the effort. He was stuck here, far, far away most likely from his wife and kids. He accepted this fate and as he had so many times in his long life, he made the best of it.
"It is time to learn of where I am," he grumbled to himself. He then stood up and turned towards the door to his new chambers and hollered, "Raffah!"
The young Klingon bodyguard responded and ran to his master, "Yes, Sir."
"It is time for me to leave this.......dungeon," he said with a pause, "escort me out to the surface."
Raffah wanted to argue but knew it was a very unwise choice so with a mear nod of his head, he walked side by side next to his master who was dressed in his chancellor's robes. Within a few minutes, they exited through a large set of doors into a very lush, green world with blue skies and a light breeze.
Gorkon, cooped up for so long, took a few steps forward, put out his arms, closed his eyes and just enjoyed the crisp air of his new world. He stood for several minutes in pure enjoyment. Raffah finally walked up just behind him.
"Sir, this planet is known as Gran Canaria and all of it is just like this," explained Raffah.
Gorkon took a deep breath of the clean, Canarian air, "Gran Canaria," he said softly, "the Zoner's home world. I can see why they settled it. They have good taste." As he spoke, he never opened his eyes or put his arms down. He just let the breeze flow over him.
"Just so you know, Sir, the Zoners allowed us to build a settlement for our people a short distance from here," explained Raffah. "They leave us to our peace and have been very accomodating."
Finally, Gorkon put down his arms and opened his eyes. It was then he noticed something. "There are two suns for this world," he commented. Raffah only nodded. "Come, Raffah, take me to my fellow warriors. It is time I am re-united with them."
After a ride in a wheeled vehicle, Raffah brought his master into the settlement, right to the main office. All activity stopped as the many Klingons in the area stood in amazement.
"You're finally awake, Chancellor," one very excited warrior piped up, "we have all waited for this day for so long." He then chanted, "Hail, Chancellor Gorkon, leader of Klingons." Right on cue, the many that were there all chanted with raised fists, "Hail, Chancellor Gorkon, leader of Klingons."
A very happy Gorkon then stood amongst his own for the first time in a long time. Blood wine, which was produced in large quantities, was served and a feast was prepared. He toured the settlement which was quite extensive even if it was somewhat primitive but for the time, it was home.
"So, Raffah, what is this place called anyway?" inquired Gorkon to his young bodyguard.
"Sir, we simply call it New Kronus, after our old home world," he answered.
Gorkon then nodded his head in approval, "Well named!"
During his tour, he saw at the center of the settlement the temple of Khaless that was built, the production facilities for Blood Wine and Klingon weapons being produced by three weapons smiths.
"Not a bad set up," commented Gorkon, "still, I hope we all don't stay here forever."
"Here or here in Sirias?" asked Raffah.
"Lad, we are stuck in Sirias. Accept it as I have. Like our forefathers before us we must begin anew and only by working together will we do it," lectured Gorkon, "much like these Zoners that we have befriended. I want to get all Klingons together so that we can begin, well, continue."
As Gorkon finished, a human messenger came running, "Sir, this message came for you." He handed Gorkon a communique and with a smile, ran away. As Gorkon read it, his face went blank.
"What is wrong, Sir?" asked Raffah.
"The D'rval sisters and the K'tinga were killed in some place called Gallia," he said, "by the Navy. I knew I shouldn't have given them that ship. It explains why all communications with them were lost."
"I am so sorry, Sir," responded Raffah.
"No need," Gorkon quickly replied, "they died with honor I'm sure. Let's keep this quiet as we have work to do."
It had been months, many months since Gorkon had made any kind of public appearance amongst the Zoners or made a statement of anykind. In a way, it was a good thing as they went relatively unnoticed as they continued to search for their place amongst Sirians.
Many of them found themselves serving on various ships as crew members but because of their intimidating size and appearance and natural aggressiveness, they found employ as bodyguards and escorts. Of those who served as crew members, they found themselves on a Klingon destroyer and mixed with Zoner humans on an Aquilon Carrier. It was a good mix as they integrated well and learned much from one another.
Still, all would continue to practice their hand to hand combat and markman skills. A story circulated amongst the local Zoner population that there was no warrior greater than a very angry Klingon. These training drills would pay off for many as their services were sought.
One particular day, Gorkon sat in his office. He had sent for four specific warriors. They arrived in his chambers together dressed in full battle armor, cape, bat'leth and disruptor. They stood, shoulder to shoulder before their emperor at attention.
"At ease," said Gorkon as he paced before them, "you have been called here for a special assignment, one that will do your houses honor. You have proven yourselves in training and in competition. You have all earned this honor."
Gorkon cleared his throat momentarily and continued, "You are to be the personal guard detail for an Ambassador and his wife. You will travel with them, you will live near them, you will do as they request of you and if necessary, you will die for them. The Ambassador has chosen you all based on provided profiles."
He then approached each warrior and asked if he accepted his assignment. Each snapped to attention and shouted, "Yes, Sir." Gorkon then ordered each warrior to drop his cape to the floor. He then handed each a new one, one with a coat of arms for the Holliday family to wear. It was black and red.
"Now, then," he continued as he then handed a set of orders with an address on it, "report to this location and may Khaless guide you all." With that, the four warriors left and did as ordered.
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