Tag: alternatemiv

Day 469
M. Koril Personal Log
I.K.S. K’Tarn

I’m not sure what’s going on abovedecks. The ship was in some kind of battle, but we took only minor damage. There are rumors flying around that we are on a secret mission to seek out and destroy Orion Syndicate vessels, or perhaps bases, but I’m not sure how much of it to believe. Information is sparse in Engineering. What little trickles down is in Klingon, and I have not learned enough to be entirely useful. 

A part of me hopes that we are taking on something big and bad. The crew could use a fight to focus on. 

Day 465
M. Koril Personal Log
I.K.S. K’Tarn

Since our misadventure in the prison, I have been assigned to assist in Engineering. Morale seems higher, but I can’t exactly be sure. The engineers seem to be a more focused and less rowdy bunch than the others. A woman named Grutha has taken it upon herself to instruct me, not just in ship’s systems but also how to dress in a less conspicuously Romulan manner. She is even teaching me a few words in Klingon. I find it easier to feel like a part of the crew here than anywhere else on the ship. No one wastes time trying to make me feel like an outcast; there is work to be done keeping this old ship spaceworthy.

Day 462.9
M. Koril Personal Log
I.K.S. K’Tarn

The comms are back. We have been informed of the real mission…to free a Klingon prisoner being held here, very near to the level that Sylon and I were currently on. I remarked to the captain that I hoped he was not among those already killed. I am no fan of secret agendas, and in no mood for Intelligence games.

By some miracle, Sylon and I found the man, alive. He was at first reluctant to leave with us due to his having suffered loss of honor. I offered to let him stay there, but Sylon insisted that he come with us, “or be knocked out and dragged aboard like a Targ to be skinned.” So he came with us.

Mission, accomplished.

Day 462.3
M. Koril Personal Log
I.K.S. K’Tarn

They cornered us in the stairwell. Jem’Hadar, I didn’t know they lived this long, and other prisoners as well. My pistol charge had long since run out, so I reached for the bat’leth that Sylon insisted I bring. I’m glad she did.

Day 462.2
M. Koril Personal Log
I.K.S. K’Tarn

Combat at last. The crew leapt at the chance. We have attacked and infiltrated a Federation prison holding Dominion War prisoners. It went about as well as it could have been expected to go. The prisoners took the opportunity to riot and knock security systems offline.

Sylon and I have barricaded ourselves inside of one of the main chambers, but we are deep inside the facility, and communications are down. It will get worse before it gets better.

Day 452
M. Koril Personal Log
I.K.S. K’Tarn

After many failed attempts at conversation, I finally deduced that the
K’Tarn is part of a small fleet indirectly overseen by Klingon
Intelligence. I suspect that Captain Sarnog was affiliated, but I have
no way to confirm that. I’ve been thinking at length about this, and
wondering if it was a chance encounter, or if he was a contact, a
handler of sorts, testing me before recruitment? The Klingon agent on
Mol’Rihan certainly seemed to take an interest in my case. Why can I not
go two steps without becoming embroiled in the affairs of secret
organizations? Not that these are particularly dangerous affairs.

Mostly, we join diplomatic convoys to Deep Space Nine, or patrol the
space around Qo’noS. It has been many months since this ship has even
seen combat, let alone victorious combat. They have turned to fighting
each other. The chain of command changes so often that I am not even
certain of it at this moment. 

Sylon has become somewhat better at
conversations. Late at night, when we are the only ones in our quarters,
she tells me her dream, “We will use our savings to buy a fast ship,
and go to a distant spaceport. I will become the owner of a shop there
that sells trinkets. You will fly away into the stars, away from the
Romulans and the Klingons and Starfleet, and we will both disappear.”

Day 450
M. Koril Personal Log
I.K.S. K’Tarn

I had the strangest dream the last time I slept. I was on a Federation starbase, or perhaps it was a ship. I was running, but whether it was away or toward something, I wasn’t sure. I just knew that I had to keep running. The hallway stretched and stretched, unending ahead and behind me. I was wearing that hideous black outfit that the Cardassian tailor gave me on Earth Spacedock. The air smelled faintly like a particular plant that grew in the Paehos Crater on New Romulus. I could hear voices shouting through the walls, muffled, accompanied by some sort of music that I can only describe as a wailing flute. Every detail of the dream was crystal clear, but when I woke up, I could not remember how I felt about any of it.

I suppose it is not significant, but it is intriguing.

Day 448
M. Koril Personal Log
I.K.S. K’Tarn

Life among Klingons is dangerous business. I had no illusions that it would be otherwise, but I have already found myself in no fewer than eighteen combat situations, five of which proved deadly to someone, and that is only counting the ones aboard the ship. Morale on this ship is low, and brawls are constant. Not even the presence of mysterious outsiders can distract these warriors from their own dishonor, apparently.

Sylon and I share quarters with
two other Klingon women. They ignored us for the first few days, but
they’ve started taking the time to make nasty comments now. I think
we’re growing on them. Sylon tried to joke that she should have stayed
on New Romulus, where they don’t hate her as much. I wondered about the
bitterness in her words. How must she feel, being among her own people
and finding only this?