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MSNPC Councillor Dempok - "Ashes and Bone"

Sal Taybrim

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((No'Vok Prime))
::Ashes and death. That was all that was left of the small settlement on No'vok Prime, the air still hung heavy with the stink of the bodies of the fallen and the shattered husks of buildings draped in a pall of black, pungeant smoke. There were no survivors to the merciless and brutal attack, only the steady pinging of the automatic distress call that had echoed out of the colony's central communication centre before being little more then another hiss in the background radiation of the system.
Dempok's boots crunched in the shattered debris. Where once was six thousand Klingon civilians and workers, there was now nothing save for the last dregs clinging to the sole of his foot. The attack had been unprovoked, unwarranted and a complete act of barbarity that made even his own veteran stomach churn::
Warrior: Councillor, we have found it.
::Dempok turned, his beard flicking in the light breeze as he narrowed his eyes to make out the figure of his small away team clutching a metal box. The last recorded moments of what had been a bustling hive of progress, locked inside the resilient data recorder that every ship, starbase and base carried with them::
Dempok: Good. 
((IKS S’Tarahk))
::There was nothing more to say, no ears to hear the silent prayer he offered the departed to guide them to Sto-Vo-Kor, not that their spirits would find peace, fell in a way that didn't fit the aspirations of any warrior or true citizen of the Empire. The burning vestige mercifully vanished in a red haze, replaced with the dark metal interior of the S’Tarahk's transporter bay.
The Warriors took the device with them, no doubt towards the ships computer core as Dempok strode towards the bridge of the narrow Vor'Cha cruiser, his thoughts marred with the sense of anger boiling through his veins. There would be a price to pay for this, a terrible one that would be wrought with his ships disruptor cannons or preferably by his own D'k tahg should the enemy offer an honourable fight, which he doubted.::
Science Officer: The box has been connected, we have the last few minutes of sensor readings, vocal... it is heavily damaged, Sir.
::Dempok gestured towards the viewscreen with a gauntlet-ted finger, the fuzzy image of a Klingon woman appearing suspended in time. Governer Krell, if he remembered correctly. She'd bravely stepped up to offer to administer the colony, despite knowing how deep it was into the frontier, her pioneering spirit would be remembered::
Krell: ..der attack! Coun.... casual... 
::The screen froze again, skipping ahead a few moments before the computer finally peiced together what little remained into someting more coherent.::
Krell: This is Goverenor Krell to any imperial ships in range, we are under attack! We have countless casualites... this, this is responsible!
::The screen jumped again to another fuzzy image, slowly coming into focus. A large green blur finding clarity, ice forming in Dempok's chest as he slammed his fist down on his seats large armrest.::
Dempok: D'Deridex... 
Krell: They are not responding to hails, our planetary batteries are having no effects! We need h-
::There was an explosion, a scream, then nothing save for the Imperial emblem and numbers rolling across the bottom of the screen giving the last telemetry. Energy spikes, temperature readings elevating sharply as the emergency control centre was reduced to constituent atoms.::
Tekal: The Romulans! Honorless dogs... our colony was defenceless!
::His first officer snarled in rage, standing to his flank as Dempok continued to look at the now empty screen.::
Dempok: How many ships do we have in range?
Science Officer: None Councillor. The IKS Varaktyl is five days away at maximum warp, B'rel class.
::Woefully inadequate support, a Bird of Prey would do little more then shatter like glass under the warbirds firepower::
Dempok: Did anyone else receive the signal we just triggered?
Tekal: The message was sent to high-command automatically as per your instruction.
::By now he had no doubt that the dogs of war were baying in the council's chambers. The same ones that had sent him post-haste to investigate the mysterious signal now validated in their grave concerns. He'd let them watch the results right along with him and rapidly his screen flashed up once again with the grim face of General Crang, the regional imperial military commander.
Crang: The Romulans?! What cause would they have to attack us... this cannot go unpunished!
Dempok: It doesn't stand to reason, General. None of this does. A single Warbird, attacking an unarmed colony. The Romulans are cowardly and devious I fully agree, but surely they are not this foolhardy...
Crang: We may argue if they are or not, but a world of the Empire burns! The evidence speaks for itself, Councillor.
Dempok: It does, General. I too wish to avenge every citizen and child of the colony. I can only offer a word of caution, the Romulans are in no position to start a war...
::Crang ignored him, his loud voice barked orders off screen as Dempok lent forward in his chair, fingers steeped. Everything seemed wrong, yet so line with the hit and run attacks a broken Empire would attempt against their adversary if they wanted a war. Hit and run, strike from the shadows... but the choice of target was what caused him concern. No'Vok was a farming world, of no strategic importance. It wasn't local enough to serve as a staging area, it didn't have defences or materials worth more then any average ore.
Which meant, it was little more then a target of opportunity. Which meant they -wanted- someone to come and investigate, it was a distraction.::
Crang: The Second and Fifth Imperial Fleets are mobilising as we speak on a war footing Councillor. They will arrive within six days, either stand and defend or get your ship away from there. If it is war the Romulans want, we shall be ready and we will -break- them.
Dempok: I will remain General. I may be a politician, but I am a Warrior by birth.
::Crang rewarded him with a begrudging nod of approval before the communication line closed.::
Dempok: Commander, engage cloaking device and sound general quarters. I want every frequency, every communication monitored for any sign of attack.
::For once Tekal nodded, foregoing his usual hot-hotheadedness, before issuing his orders as the ship descended into a noise of klaxons and flickering lights. He muttered quietly under his breath, a single passage from the famed Klingon author who wordsmith-ed war like a tapestry::
Dempok: "Sound trumpets, let our bloody colours wave. And either victory, or else a grave".
::Peace, that had reigned for decades, was beginning to crumble and he was there on the cusp of the wave about to crash upon them all::
MSPNC Councillor Dempok

Major. Tatash

Marine Lead

SB118 Operations


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