Guess Who's Coming To Dinner - Part VI (The Feast)

Posted on Fri Jan 30th, 2026 @ 9:13pm by Captain Robert Burke & Commander Vincent 'Vin' Salvatore & Lieutenant Marques Hunt & Lieutenant Kyra sh'Herhrisst & Lieutenant Nelar & Lieutenant Ryssa Dari & Lieutenant JG Maël "Gideon" Beauregard & Ensign Shanice Winters

2,129 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: EPISODE 1: SHAKEDOWN
Location: Great Hall
Timeline: MD036

::ON::


[And Now the Continuation ...]

"My name is Ryssa Dari. The ne'maH qamDu' sounds fascinating." She happily began a conversation that appealed to both of them.

Doube leaned toward Shanice, who had been a bit startled by the commotion. "You have nothing to fear here Ensign. Among this table are some of the largest houses in the Empire. But most are honorable and will keep their word to not kill anyone."

Winters raised an eyebrow. "Yet, there is word about injuring or seriously maiming anyone."

Letting out a hardy laugh, Doube smiled at the young woman. "You are definitely one with words. I can't speak for the others around this table. But you have my word, that I will allow no harm to come to you this night."

"How honorable," Shanice acknowledged with a smile of her own. "I have found my hero and protector within the Empire at this wonderful occasion."

Lady Sulra observed the man next her as he continued to have his head on a swivel to what was happening with each participant around the table. "Lieutenant Hunt. You must have some Klingon in your blood."

Turning his full focus on Sulra, the flight control officer was a bit startled. "What do you mean?"

"You sit here, eating as we engage in fellowship. Yet you are clearly ready for a possible battle. Only a warrior, stays at the ready at all times."

Hunt couldn't help but chuckle. "I'm far from a warrior. Just was taught to be aware of my surroundings at all times."

"Is this taught to all of Starfleet?" Sulra inquired.

"Yes, but my father made it a point to drill being aware of your surroundings into me at an early age. He did the same with my younger brother, Othello, as well. Guess he wanted us to be prepared for potential threats. To be honest, and no offense. But the potential threat was always the people in this room."

Sulra nodded in agreement. "No offense taken Marques. Since we're being honest, we're just as on edge as you are. We view the Federation as soft, but we can't quite seem to defeat you or slow down your expansion into the Beta Quadrant. Many won't admit it but the Federation is far from soft."

Burke turned from a … challenging conversation with the leader of a Minor House at the border of the Empire as he noticed Ko’Vag stir from his seat beside him. An older Klingon was making his way up the hall. His armour was less ostentatious, more practical than that worn by the Klingons around him. The metal was duller, as though the shine had been deliberately worn away, the leathers worn from long use, but well-maintained. The bandoleer across his chest, Burke noticed, was devoid of any house sigil, and merely sported the icon of the Klingon Imperial Fleet.

‘K’urer’Sh, you dog!’ Ko’Vag cried joyfully, holding his arms out wide from his amply-proportioned body. ‘You are well-met! Here, we have a seat for you!’

Watching with interest, Burke’s neighbour, got up from there seat with a grunt as Ko’Vag waved him away. For his part, Burke was glad that that conversation was done with – the Klingon’s breath was heavy with roasted meats and bloodwine that was pungent to say the least.

The un-Housed Klingon nodded curtly at Ko’Vag and gripped his arm, pulling him close. ‘Well met yourself old targ,’ he said with a small smile. He let the Steward go, and acended the dais, hauling himself heavily into the free seat.

‘Well met, Captain Robert Burke,’ he said without pre-amble in that curious Shakespearean diction that the Klingons had seemed to have adopted in the past twenty years. He waved his flagon, and turned back to Burke once his cause was taken up by a servant. ‘I had not expected to meet someone like you in my lifetime.’

Burke raised an eyebrow. ‘Nor I someone such as yourself. Though you have me at a disadvantage. I didn’t know my name had spread in the Empire.’

Baring his teeth in a smile, K’urer’Sh barked a laugh and shook his head, sending his ringlets shaking, ‘not so far, human. But I know it because it’s my duty to know it. To sniff out threats and dangers to my Empire.’ He banged his returned flagon on the tabletop. ‘To your good health, Captain Burke!’ He quaffed a healthy measure of the bloodwine, and wiped the foam that had coated his moustaches away with a finger.

‘The Chancellor has not served the best her House can afford tonight,’ the Klingon said with a toothy smile. ‘Small wonder when her guests are a motley Starfleet crew, and a un-Housed Klingon.’

The human leaned in, and nodded, ‘the gagh seemed less than fresh, if you ask me. But you still have me at a disadvantage, Colonel. You know my name. I would know yours.’

The Colonel regarded him for a moment, then huffed and nodded. ‘K’uer’Sh the Lowborn is my name and title. And, yes, Colonel is my rank, Captain.’ He regarded Burke critically then nodded, ‘I see that I am not the only one who notices things.’
Shrugging in response, Burke allowed his own smile. ‘It’s not the first time I’ve ran into a Klingon Colonel. I recognise the rank. I’d say this is the most pleasant run in with a Colonel though, if you don’t mind me saying.’

‘Ah yes … D’orsan of House Bret’Lak. That would have been what, twenty-two eighty-one in your years? Yes, yes, I read of it. An impressive gambit from your side. We still sing of D’orsan and his demise.’ K’urer’Sh leaned in towards the Captain. ‘Not many of Imperial Intelligence’s people have been brought low by Starfleet. But it helped speed my promotion. So I have you to thank, indirectly, Robert Burke.’

His breath caught in his throat. Recovering, Burke affected his best smile, ‘please, call me Bob.’

‘A pet name?’ K’urer’Sh roared with laughter causing a few heads to turn. ‘Perhaps, in time. But first to business. The Federation is interested in peace. The Chancellor is interested in peace.’ He waved an arm across the Hall. ‘No-one here believes that. Except for perhaps you and I, Captain.’

‘The Federation Starfleet is formidable – you have held us at bay, and many glorious songs have been sung of our battles across the centuries. Klingons and their grudges are long-lived, but the struggles we have had with you down the centuries must be set aside. The balance of power in this Quadrant would swing against the Federation if the Empire was forced to live on its knees.’ K’urer’Sh’s breathing was heavy, blowing the hot sour scent of bloodwine in Burke’s direction as he listened, head bowed towards the Klingon. ‘We require your assistance in the matter of Praxis. We will work with you, and ensure that … disturbances to our Accords are kept to a minimum to ensure this success. I have authority from the highest levels to tell you that any hostile act by the forces of Klingon Houses do not reflect the will of the Empire. More than that the center cannot guarantee due to the favours expended in securing the Federation’s expertise.’

The Klingon produced a bulky padd, typical of Klingon’s engineering. Proffering it to Burke, he looked around, making sure that no-one else saw the exchange. ‘Consider this a gift from the Chancellor to the Federation. What I have told you here, and Imperial Intelligence’s analysis of the worlds you are to discover.’ K’urer’Sh smiled once more, ‘also included is what we know of the Romulan’s activities in the logh wo’vo’, the space beyond the bounds of the Empire.’ The Klingon leaned back, and belched. ‘Study them well, Robert Burke. They will advantage you.’

Accepting the padd, Burke smiled at the Intelligence officer. ‘I will pass this to my superiors, as you knew I would. We’ll analyse it from our end. If what you say is true we’ll be in your, and the Chancellor’s debt.’ Holding his own flagon high, Burke leaned towards the Klingon, ‘how about we toast this gift from the Chancellor?’

K’urer’Sh leaned in to reply, when an almighty commotion broke out in the Hall.

Two warriors at the far end had risen from their seats, chests puffed, shoulders squared, arguing over personal honour. It would have been ridiculous if either man were capable of ridiculousness. Their voices rose, stopping all discussion.

K'urer'Sh glanced over and let out a weary sigh. "House Zovash," he muttered. "They believe dignity is best bludgeoned into others."

Around them, the hall went from indifferent murmurs to total chaos in seconds. Chairs scraped, warriors shouted, officers ducked their heads. A full-on brawl had begun.

Ko'Vag dove into the fray, trying to separate his brothers. He caught one Klingon around the waist and tossed him over a banquet table, sending roast meats and platters tumbling. Gideon used the moment to dodge a blow that would have sent him flying face-first into spilled gagh.

Bodies tumbled over tables and fists connected with faces. A younger-looking Klingon dodged a blow delivered by another from a rival house. He spun and attempted to smash his fist into his attacker only to find himself with a chair breaking across his back.

Another Klingon with an ugly, diagonal scar across his face, grinned at Burke. He took a long pull from his flagon before tossing it aside and makes strides toward the Hecate's Captain. He had long detested the Federation and here was the perfect opportunity to show his comrades that the Empire need not extend a hand in friendship.

"Captain," he shouted through the melee. "I wish to personally extend a welcome to you..."

With that, he grabbed hold of Burke's shoulders, pulling him in and headbutting the man. He pushed him back and swung wildly.

Stumbling back into his chair, Burke raised his hands to defend himself, managing to catch the Klingon's fist with his forearm rather than his face. He slipped back to his feet in a slight crouch, before launching himself at the Klingon, much to the roaring amusement of those around him. There was no time for quips or second-guesses. Just a swinging fist towards the Klingon's face.

The punch landed clean--right on the hinge of the Klingon's jaw--and his head snapped sideways with a satisfying crack that rang clearer than any toast given so far that evening. But the Klingon didn't fall.

He straightened his posture slowly, savouring the moment. He ran his tongue across his teeth--checking for blood, maybe a chip--then let a wolfish grin stretch across his face. His eyes gleamed, dark and delighted, as if Burke had just handed him a birthday present wrapped in gold foil.

"Ha!" the Klingon barked, slapping his own jaw where Burke's hit had landed. "A human with a spine!"

Shaking his hand out - he'd hit a nerve when connecting with the Klingon's jaw, Burke ran his tongue across his lips, then nodded. 'You'll find most of us have a spine. You've not given me the honour of your name, Warrior.'

Watching the scene unfold, K'urer'Sh lifted his eyes from the Captain and his current adversary, locking eyes with Ko'Vag who merely shook his head, then scanning the increasing melee in the Hall with trepidation. This could easily get out of hand, he noted, unease grumbling in his belly.

"I am Z'mtok, Son of Req'naq," he said proudly, bringing a closed fist to his chest. He licked at his teeth, tasting the iron of his own blood.

The human stood before him, smaller than he had any real right to be, his shoulder squared, breathing hard. Good. The strike had landed true and Z'mtok found himself flexing his jaw slowly, feeling where the hinge complained. Pain was a useful thing. It reminded you that life still flowed through you.

Around them the Hall had become undone.

[To be Continued...]

::OFF::

Captain Robert Burke
Commanding Officer
USS Hecate

Commander Vincent Salvatore
Executive & Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Hecate

Lieutenant Kyra sh'Herhrisst
Chief Security Officer
USS Hecate

Lieutenant Marquis Hunt
Chief Flight Control Officer
USS Hecate

Lieutenant Juno Jones
Chief Engineer
USS Hecate

Lieutenant Ryssa Dari
Chief Science Officer
USS Hecate

Lieutenant Nelar
Chief Medical Officer
USS Hecate

Lieutenant JG Gianna De Luca
Chief Counsellor
USS Hecate

Lieutenant JG Maël "Gideon" Beauregard
Chief Operations Officer
USS Hecate

Ensign Shanice Winters
Chief Diplomatic Officer
USS Hecate

 

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