IKC FHew 7C6110
Darkness Dawning – Rousing Dark
by HoD Ro' Matlh & Ensign Jason Hawk & Sogh Marla Varquis & Sogh Thor'nan Mal'Kor & Soghla' Marie St. Helene & Sogh Germite Ephilom & Soghla' HIchop Matlh & Soghla' Terri (Tell) Hope & Soghla' Jared
Post Details
'Iw'a'na' was on the bridge. Ro' was giving him last minute instructions. Everyone else was gathering in the small transporter room getting ready for beam into the alien ship.
Marie had paused on her way to the cabinet holding the EVA suits. She stood listening intently while the discussion on the bridge played itself out. She did not like what she was hearing.
She didn't like a lot of what she heard on the FHew. Ro' had an uncanny knack for landing them in dangerous situations but, credit where credit was due, he also had an uncanny knack for getting them out again.
This sounded altogether different.
Now she continued. A ship without life support mean only one thing – the suit would be necessary. From what Jared had said they wouldn't be pausing to get an oxygen supply up and running.
Once suited up she headed to the transporters.
Germite filled his med kit with basic trauma gear. He only carried half the painkillers that he would if it was an all human team. The Klingon Warriors seemed to thrive on pain.
Jared entered the transporter chamber with a heavy bag slug over his shoulder, and what looked like full pockets. He passed the beq handing out the weapons - as always - and then stopped. He backed up a few steps and looked at Cha'a', holding out a disruptor rifle. She looked at him oddly.
"Better give me one, just in case" the little TiQ told her with a frown. He took the offered rifle and slung it over one shoulder.
A troubled look passed between the Beqs. None of them had ever seen Jared with a gun.
Ru'fimohp checked his disruptor again and muttered to Tierk, “Oh, that we now had here but one ten thousand of those men on Qo’noS that do no work to-day!”
Ro’ appeared at the door. His armour shone and he wore his Batleth on his back, and a pair of disruptor pistols on his hip. His d’k’tagh hung from a thong about his chest, and his hair was pulled back to warrior braids. As he strode into the transporter bay his voice resonated perfectly with the acoustics of the room.
“What's he that wishes so? My cousin Ru'fimohp? No, my fair cousin; If we are mark'd to die, we are enough to do our people loss; and if to live, the fewer men, the greater share of honour. Kahless’ will! I ask thee, wish not one man more. By my honour, I am not covetous for gold, nor care I who does feed upon my cost. It yearns me not if men my garments wear. Such outward things dwell not in my desires. But if it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending soul alive. No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from Qo’noS. Be silent! I would not lose so great an honour, as one man more methinks would share from me, for the best hope I have. Oh, do not wish one more!”
He began to walk among the frightened crew, “Rather proclaim it, Ru'fimohp, through my host, that he which hath no stomach to this fight, let him remain. His pay shall be made, and latinum for convoy home put into his purse. We would not die in that man's company that fears his fellowship to die with us. This day is call'd the Feast of Kora. He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd, and rouse him at the name of Kora. He that shall live this day, and see old age, will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, and say 'To-morrow is the Feast of Kora.' Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, and say 'These wounds I had on Kora's day.' Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot, but he'll remember, with advantages, what feats he did that day.”
He stopped in front of the transporter and looked at those assembled, his voice raising in energy, “Then shall our names, familiar in his mouth as household words- Ro’ the HoD, Hope and St. Helene, Thor’nan and Hawke, Marla and May’bel- Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red. This story shall the good man teach his son; And Kora shall ne'er go by, from this day to the ending of the Empire, but we in it shall be remembered.”
Germite noted that his name was not included in Ro's list. He wondered if that meant he wouldn't be on the mission.
Marie turned to Hope. "What in all the gods' names is the fool on? He's been reading too much Shakespeare. He'll be quoting the St. Crispin's Day speech next. Oh, ye few. Oh, ye glorious few. Etcetera, etcetera...."
Tell shook her head. She hadn't a clue of what Ro' was speaking anout or where it was from. "Probably one of Marlas books with an added twist I should think. Though I prefer Winston Churchills 'We shall fight them on the beaches. We shall fight them on the landing grounds etc etc. I just hope he isn't going to launch into the whole verbal war lecture everytime we go into battle. Other wise I may as well slash my wrists and get it over and done with now."
OOC: none of you have any soul. :P
Ro’ spread his arms and his voice dropped to a more intimate tone, “We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; for he to-day that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile, this day shall gentle his condition. And warriors on Qo’noS now-a-bed shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here, and hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks that fought with us upon this Kora's day!”
The Crew’s cheer filled the Hold and there was a surge forward as each wanted to be the first to join the Captain on the transporter pad. Noticeably, Marie did not join in the enthusiasm.
Whatever thought Tell.
OOC: That's the trouble with humans. No sense of grandeur, romance or drama.
In the end it was Ro’, Jared, Thor’nan, Marla, Tell, and Ru'fimohp who went first, followed by May’bel, Cha’a’, Jason, Lach and HIchop. Marie made up the rear. She was only one step behind but she maintained that distance. Fools rush in, she thought, and I am not a fool.
"Nobody hold back" Jared anounced to the room in general, with a troubled expression. "Use every trick you have, dirty or not. These aren't enemies, demanding honourable combat. These are big shiny kitchen appliances designed to kill people. And they outnumber us five hundred to one. Shut them down any way you can. If you end up in hand to hand, go for lenses, cables, wires and hydraulic cylinders - they'll be the most vulnerable points."
He glanced over at Marie, and seemed to remember something. He took a bundle of leather out of a pocket and tossed it to her.
"You forgot these."
It only took Marie a moment to recognise the 'special issue' gloves Jared had made her.
Tierk, as most junior member, remained at the transporter controls with Germite and his medical kit, such as it was, next to him.
Tierk was nervous, but not much so. In the days since he had married Marla and joined this crew, his father had told him that while the crew may seem like a motley assortment of aliens and brigands, they were loyal to each other and to their captain. And his father and wife were both on this mission, so his back was covered.
He drew his mek'leth for the hundredth time, and made sure it was sharp enough.
"Is your blade sharp enough, boy? " asked Thor'nan as he mounted the transporter pad. Tierk licked the blade, and looked at his father.
"It's NEVER sharp enough, sir. " he said. Indeed, the blade had drawn no blood.
Yet.
by HoD Ro' Matlh & Ensign Jason Hawk & Sogh Marla Varquis & Sogh Thor'nan Mal'Kor & Soghla' Marie St. Helene & Sogh Germite Ephilom & Soghla' HIchop Matlh & Soghla' Terri (Tell) Hope & Soghla' Jared
Post Details
| Title | Rousing Dark | |
| Mission | Darkness Dawning | |
| Author(s) | HoD Ro' Matlh & Ensign Jason Hawk & Sogh Marla Varquis & Sogh Thor'nan Mal'Kor & Soghla' Marie St. Helene & Sogh Germite Ephilom & Soghla' HIchop Matlh & Soghla' Terri (Tell) Hope & Soghla' Jared | |
| Posted | Fri Jun 22, 2012 @ 2:26am | |
| Location | Transporter Room, Deck 3 | |
| Timeline | Five minutes later |
Marie had paused on her way to the cabinet holding the EVA suits. She stood listening intently while the discussion on the bridge played itself out. She did not like what she was hearing.
She didn't like a lot of what she heard on the FHew. Ro' had an uncanny knack for landing them in dangerous situations but, credit where credit was due, he also had an uncanny knack for getting them out again.
This sounded altogether different.
Now she continued. A ship without life support mean only one thing – the suit would be necessary. From what Jared had said they wouldn't be pausing to get an oxygen supply up and running.
Once suited up she headed to the transporters.
Germite filled his med kit with basic trauma gear. He only carried half the painkillers that he would if it was an all human team. The Klingon Warriors seemed to thrive on pain.
Jared entered the transporter chamber with a heavy bag slug over his shoulder, and what looked like full pockets. He passed the beq handing out the weapons - as always - and then stopped. He backed up a few steps and looked at Cha'a', holding out a disruptor rifle. She looked at him oddly.
"Better give me one, just in case" the little TiQ told her with a frown. He took the offered rifle and slung it over one shoulder.
A troubled look passed between the Beqs. None of them had ever seen Jared with a gun.
Ru'fimohp checked his disruptor again and muttered to Tierk, “Oh, that we now had here but one ten thousand of those men on Qo’noS that do no work to-day!”
Ro’ appeared at the door. His armour shone and he wore his Batleth on his back, and a pair of disruptor pistols on his hip. His d’k’tagh hung from a thong about his chest, and his hair was pulled back to warrior braids. As he strode into the transporter bay his voice resonated perfectly with the acoustics of the room.
“What's he that wishes so? My cousin Ru'fimohp? No, my fair cousin; If we are mark'd to die, we are enough to do our people loss; and if to live, the fewer men, the greater share of honour. Kahless’ will! I ask thee, wish not one man more. By my honour, I am not covetous for gold, nor care I who does feed upon my cost. It yearns me not if men my garments wear. Such outward things dwell not in my desires. But if it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending soul alive. No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from Qo’noS. Be silent! I would not lose so great an honour, as one man more methinks would share from me, for the best hope I have. Oh, do not wish one more!”
He began to walk among the frightened crew, “Rather proclaim it, Ru'fimohp, through my host, that he which hath no stomach to this fight, let him remain. His pay shall be made, and latinum for convoy home put into his purse. We would not die in that man's company that fears his fellowship to die with us. This day is call'd the Feast of Kora. He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd, and rouse him at the name of Kora. He that shall live this day, and see old age, will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, and say 'To-morrow is the Feast of Kora.' Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, and say 'These wounds I had on Kora's day.' Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot, but he'll remember, with advantages, what feats he did that day.”
He stopped in front of the transporter and looked at those assembled, his voice raising in energy, “Then shall our names, familiar in his mouth as household words- Ro’ the HoD, Hope and St. Helene, Thor’nan and Hawke, Marla and May’bel- Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red. This story shall the good man teach his son; And Kora shall ne'er go by, from this day to the ending of the Empire, but we in it shall be remembered.”
Germite noted that his name was not included in Ro's list. He wondered if that meant he wouldn't be on the mission.
Marie turned to Hope. "What in all the gods' names is the fool on? He's been reading too much Shakespeare. He'll be quoting the St. Crispin's Day speech next. Oh, ye few. Oh, ye glorious few. Etcetera, etcetera...."
Tell shook her head. She hadn't a clue of what Ro' was speaking anout or where it was from. "Probably one of Marlas books with an added twist I should think. Though I prefer Winston Churchills 'We shall fight them on the beaches. We shall fight them on the landing grounds etc etc. I just hope he isn't going to launch into the whole verbal war lecture everytime we go into battle. Other wise I may as well slash my wrists and get it over and done with now."
OOC: none of you have any soul. :P
Ro’ spread his arms and his voice dropped to a more intimate tone, “We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; for he to-day that sheds his blood with me shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile, this day shall gentle his condition. And warriors on Qo’noS now-a-bed shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here, and hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks that fought with us upon this Kora's day!”
The Crew’s cheer filled the Hold and there was a surge forward as each wanted to be the first to join the Captain on the transporter pad. Noticeably, Marie did not join in the enthusiasm.
Whatever thought Tell.
OOC: That's the trouble with humans. No sense of grandeur, romance or drama.
In the end it was Ro’, Jared, Thor’nan, Marla, Tell, and Ru'fimohp who went first, followed by May’bel, Cha’a’, Jason, Lach and HIchop. Marie made up the rear. She was only one step behind but she maintained that distance. Fools rush in, she thought, and I am not a fool.
"Nobody hold back" Jared anounced to the room in general, with a troubled expression. "Use every trick you have, dirty or not. These aren't enemies, demanding honourable combat. These are big shiny kitchen appliances designed to kill people. And they outnumber us five hundred to one. Shut them down any way you can. If you end up in hand to hand, go for lenses, cables, wires and hydraulic cylinders - they'll be the most vulnerable points."
He glanced over at Marie, and seemed to remember something. He took a bundle of leather out of a pocket and tossed it to her.
"You forgot these."
It only took Marie a moment to recognise the 'special issue' gloves Jared had made her.
Tierk, as most junior member, remained at the transporter controls with Germite and his medical kit, such as it was, next to him.
Tierk was nervous, but not much so. In the days since he had married Marla and joined this crew, his father had told him that while the crew may seem like a motley assortment of aliens and brigands, they were loyal to each other and to their captain. And his father and wife were both on this mission, so his back was covered.
He drew his mek'leth for the hundredth time, and made sure it was sharp enough.
"Is your blade sharp enough, boy? " asked Thor'nan as he mounted the transporter pad. Tierk licked the blade, and looked at his father.
"It's NEVER sharp enough, sir. " he said. Indeed, the blade had drawn no blood.
Yet.