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JPL | Chancellor Ch'Krang & Ambassador Ilex | KE Chancellor & Stenellian Ambassador | "A friendship forms..."

Posted on Mon Nov 6th, 2017 @ 7:29pm by Ambassador Alexander Hark & Commodore Rochelle Ivanova

Mission: The Round Table
Location: Qo'noS, The Great Hall

Sounds of raucous laughter rang throughout the Great Hall and all of the chambers surrounding it, the Empire was in full celebration to welcome a delegation from the Stenellian Ascendancy and the Chancellor had spared no expense to welcome them into the ever growing galactic neighborhood, he understood the need for diplomacy in this matter, especially considering the intelligence that had been received in the shared packet from the Federation regarding their other connections and the possible allegiances they held, at the head of his table, Ch'Krang sat alongside his son on one side and the Ambassador that had been sent on the other, he wasn't sure what to make of the Ambassador yet, but he'd certainly make his mind up by the end of the night.

Qo’noS was a world of dramatic color and industry that left little to the imagination unless one chose to love a rocky, craggy, dystopian wasteland. Rust and red, charcoal and black – the colors, even of the great hall, stood out in violent contrast to the bright, clean, crisp glowing flourish of Ambassador Ilex. He was a massive creature, rivaling – if not besting – the Klingons in his presence just out of sheer size. Where they were loud and cantankerous, though, he chuckled in good humor and watched their antics with practiced, oddly understanding eyes. For years he had stood at the head of the Makta, trained men and women, ridden into battle… If any would understand their thirst and hunger for live and adventure, for honor, it would be him and there was little reason to doubt why the white queen had sent him on such a mission.

“It would seem that your people flourish under your leadership, Chancellor. I find it comforting… If one could take comfort in tankards flying past one’s head.” He chuckled, stealing away a final bite of Targ. The beast, raw, wasn’t unpleasing. The flavor almost smoky even without being touched by heat. “Empress Xue’Daio is not dissimilar in her approach, though our people may be a bit more reserved. Such a pity. We could learn a thing or two.” He said, watching as one member of the delegation threw another onto the table.

"It's not been an easy road for any of us," the Chancellor replied as he picked up one of the spare tankards from the table and slugged it at the two men fighting further down the hall, "Before I was able to solidify the power of my family we had to... resolve a civil war, a yawning chasm that threatened to tear this empire asunder, they disagreed with my policies when it came to the Federation." he drew a blade from his robes that hung over the back of the chair and thrust it point down into the table, forcing it to stand on end, "The Empire has always been forged in blood and our prosperity came at a cost, one that is still being paid."

"I am glad that the Empress chose to send you to me though, we too could learn a thing or two from the Ascendancy," Ch'Krang continued as he retrieved his own tankard and emptied it of the bloodwine it contained before plunging it into barrel that sat next to him, "You've certainly made your mark in the galaxy."

"We are well aware of your glories and your strife." Pal'maar nodded solemnly, tracing the handle of his own tankard with a single finger, "No great society is without its falls and skeletons, Chancellor, the Ascendancy perhaps most of all." He nodded, watching the merriment continue with the men grappling like great jungle cats even after being clocked upside the head by the stein hurled at them by Ch'Krang. "We are now in our renaissance in many ways, but I agree that we stand to teach a great deal. Perhaps as much as we stand to learn from you." His lips curled into a light hearted smile as he drew from his robes his own dagger. It was jeweled, curved, the blade shining brightly in the dim light even thought it clearly wasn't constructed of metal. He held it even, allowing the Klingon to take it if he so desired, the coral blade stronger than even Earth's tungsten steel, "What we propose is this... A trading of minds. A sign of good faith that may lead to a pledge of fealty between our people." The leviathan rumbled evenly, "I will remain on Qo'noS, at your disposal if you will have me, and in return you will send one you can trust. Perhaps not to Apsha directly, but territory that stands to need..." His head wobbled side to side as he sought the necessary words, "guidance. Cold Station Theta is in Federation space, Starfleet controlled. It's neutral territory and less than a day's journey to Apsha. There's a decided lack of Klingon presence there as well, as we've noticed it..." His voice drifted off as he waited for response, for a sign that the entire trip wouldn't have been a waste of time - though the company had been delightful.

The Klingon roared at the suggestion, his laughter rumbled throughout the great hall and drew a few glances in their direction, "I have just the man for the job!" he lifted a hand and used it to close Pal'maar's hand over his blade, a sign that the Klingon wanted him to retain his weapon, a sign of trust among Klingons, "And as luck would have it, he is already on Cold Station Theta, I know he will not turn me down on this request!"

For a moment, Pal'Maar's eyebrow rose at the sound of laughter only for it to even out when the man boasted, with great pride, that he'd selected his man. The feel of the Klingon blade's hilt within his palm gave the Ambassador a rush, a thrill, proof positive that the future would be one filled with no small amount of interest and intrigue. He nodded, boldly extracting the weapon from the table and cradling it in his palm, "Is he now?" Pal'maar asked, offering his other hand, the coral and jeweled dagger, a trading of worlds. "I have faith between us, Chancellor, that your choice will cinch things between our societies."

The Chancellor closed his hand over the ornate dagger, so very different from the one he had offered and from anything else that existed within the Empire, "Oh, I'm sure he will, he's a mighty warrior, a cunning diplomat and as smart as a whip!" the Klingon replied with a chuckle as he took another drink of his bloodwine.

"I look forward to meeting him. He would have to be quite special to be deemed acceptable. We've heard tales of a few of your men, Chancellor, Jaktor chief among them." Pal'Maar nodded his appreciation of the exchange of blades and sealed it with a hit of his own drink, "The Empress has an affinity for fine warriors worth their mettle... I must say that I do as well."

Ch'Krang allowed himself another loud bout of laughter at the mention of his champion, a man who rarely needed an introduction, "Jaktor is a god amongst men, his mere presence is often enough to put a stop to any trouble that comes up," he replied with a grin that bore teeth, "The man I have in mind for this job though... you may not expect him, but know that I have complete faith in his abilities and he speaks for me in all matters, he is family and his honor is mine and mine is his."

If not Jaktor, then who? Pal'Maar's mind combed through a rolodex of information, each tab containing some bit of information he'd stored away about the Klingons and their political structure and, for the moment, it drew up blank. Aside from a small handful of merchants that ran through the area, the station was relatively void of Klingon presence. "Anyone you choose to represent you is a man worthy of note. I'm sure the Ascendancy will be quite pleased with your choice." Picking up his tankard, he held it towards his host, "A toast, Chancellor, to the future between our people. May fortune smile in our favor."

Ch'Krang picked up his tankard and raised it to match the one held aloft by the Ambassador, "'IwlIj jachjaj!" (May your blood scream! The Klingon equivalent of Cheers!) he roared in Klingon, the entire Great Hall burst out with the same phrase and the walls rang with their words, the Chancellor offered a smile and a nod towards the Ambassador, "Qapla'!"

"Qapla'!" The Stenellis responded heartily and drank from his cup to seal the toast and well wishes for whatever the fates would bring in their respective directions.


Ch'Krang, Son of K'Alith
Head of the House of Ch'Krang
Chancellor of the Klingon Empire


Pal'Maar Ilex
Ambassador to the Klingon Empire
Stenellian Ascendancy


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