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Expeditionary forces and raids

Posted on Mon Mar 6th, 2017 @ 4:26pm by Lady Surla

Location: Wild Space/Korzha star system
Timeline: current/somewhere in-between


OOC: Encompassing weeks of attacks, raids, development, etc.

The Andorian swung his sword, and though the blow was done well it was obvious that the elder alien had spent too many years tilling the soil rather than fighting. Surla blocked the incoming slash and shoved the blade of her enemy away to her left, leaving the Andorian open to attack momentarily. Capitalizing, Surla gave a ferocious backhand slash, her blade slicing through the cloth and flesh of her opponent, an open gash across his chest. The blue blood ran freely as he stumbled back a bit trying to distance himself from this combatant long enough to regain his balance. Pressing her attack Surla gave a heel kick to his torso sending her enemy stumbling back into a stanchion. As he impacted the pillar, now with nowhere left to go, Surla stepped in and thrust her d'k'tagh hilt deep into his right side as she brought her mekleth up and over in a downward attack with her right hand.

The eyes of the Andorian opened in surprise as the dagger went deep, the mekleth coming down in a hacking slash as it buried itself at the base of his neck on the left side. A gout of blue blood spattered the front of Surla, joining the rivulets of blue, green, and red blood that decorated the front of her armor, her face, and her arms. Some of it was drying and tacky, too much of it was fresh from her most recent kills. The Andorian coughed and in so doing produced more of his own blood from his mouth, the liquid of life now drooling down his chin as he took his last fateful breaths. Depressing the thumb toggle on her hilt, Surla's d'k'tagh released the spring blades inside this being's body, and once she had felt the blades extend Surla twisted the hilt of her dagger, rending flesh and organs as the blade was designed to do. The Andorian went slack, his sword falling from his slack grip and tumbling to the floor with a metallic clattering. Pulling her mekleth free Surla then thrust it into the torso, both blades now buried hilt deep as she gave those dying eyes a last look, a grin playing across her face before she pulled up and out, ripping her blades free and allowing the corpse to slide to the deck.

All around her Surla could hear the sounds of battle, weapons clanking and ringing as they traded blows, spinning on her heel to observe the combat around her. Ch'tang was holding his own against a Vulcan, his bat'leth a whirling metallic death omen. Merahl, her new Science chief and ship's doctor, stood over the bodies of several beings, ones she had put down through melee, her own countenance covered in the ichor of enemies. When the last few opponents went down, Klingons whirling in their places looking for more, Surla raised her bloodied weapon in the air and shouted, "Qapla'!"

The Klingons present in this building raised their own blades and returned the salutation. "Qapla'!" The cheers and roars of victory followed. From outside could be heard further rejoicing. Placing her weapons in their scabbards Surla walked through the crowd of warriors, stepping over bodies as she went, walking out to the front steps of the administration building. Before her stood the warriors from both House Surla and House Grilka, allies who had fought across Wild Space these past few weeks, being joined by other, smaller Houses as they had continued to move forward on their expeditionary mission.

For more than three weeks the Klingons had worked together, sacking 37 colonies founded out in Wild Space as they hunted for any clue as to the whereabouts of the Klingon known as Gorgon. Klingon raiders prowled the shipping lanes and trade routes in Wild Space, striking with sudden and shocking brutality. The ships that were sacked were taken as booty and sent to a rendesvous point where the survivors were taken into custody by various Houses to be sold in the slave markets. The plunder was evenly divided up between Houses, and with House Surla leading the charge in this, her House got the targ's share.

Surla sat down with a sigh on the steps, her soldiers now getting back to business after the victory chants. Swiping some blood from her chin (not her own) with the back of her hand Surla brought out her PADD and tricorder, setting the former on the steps next to her while activating the latter.

Ch'tang came up from behind her, the front portion of the building shaded from the sun, and he looked down at her. "Orders?"

Standing and scooping up her PADD, Surla set it on one of the large stone hand rails for this building, talking while she adjusted settings. "Same as before. Gather the survivors for the markets, toss the dead wherever." Looking out across the small avenues for this colony Surla could see the bodies, both Klingon and others. Some had been stabbed or hacked to death. Others decapitated. One man, a Human, died after a sword had taken off the top of his head. "Use the survivors to collect and dispose of the bodies, then usher them into a warehouse so we can ascertain which would be good for the slave markets. Begin repairs on this colony. We have found our home for House Surla."

"As you command, my lady." Ch'tang walked down the steps and began to bark orders at the Klingons nearby.

Finding a positive sign on her tricorder, Surla walked that direction, her PADD now back on her belt next to the belt pouch she now wore filled with strips of latinum, both gold=pressed and silver-pressed. Instead of the rectangular strips one usually found, Surla and her soldiers had reshaped them into a coin configuration, with weight and latinum scales remaining the same. Arriving at a large warehouse Surla pulled her disruptor, set it for beam, then cut open the lock mechanism. Sliding the heavy door aside she entered, seeing all the cargo containers marked for departure from this world. Examining the contents she found hand woven and decorated caftans, swatches of Andorian silk, Bajoran springwine, and many other textiles and products. After checking the cargo she walked back out, her eyes scanning until she spotted the Klingon she was looking for. "Merahl!"

The younger female came over to her CO. "Yes, my lady?"

"Begin your research," ordered Surla. "See to the wounded, both ours and theirs, then proceed to find out all you can about this world. Seek their own scientific data and look into it. This is now home and we need to know more about how to survive here."

Merahl nodded acknowledgement. "It will be done, Lady Surla."

That conversation over Surla merely turned and walked away, hooking her tricorder back on her belt as she went. It would take time to get this place in order, but not as much as one might think. Surla had reached out to farmers and merchants, telling them of new worlds to forge and turn into thriving colonies and homes. The merchant fleet was on standby in Klingon space, surrounded by a squadron of Grilka's ships, awaiting the call to join their new House.


Many hours had gone by, and within that time the streets were cleared of the dead, as were all buildings. Surla sat on the admin steps again, the large stone handrails perfect for her arse as she sat side-saddle upon one, sipping bloodwine. She was clean, having used a sonic shower to rid herself of all the blood and bits of meat from her enemies. She watched parties of slaves being directed by Klingons for the clean-up, finding a bit of amusement when she spotted the sour faces of those who were now servants as they had to pick up and clean up what was once a neighbor or co-worker. This is what happens when one does not prepare adequately for attack.


The star system Korzha, which Surla had laid claim to as the seat of her House, was not too unlike Sol in its make-up. They were on the third planet from this moderate star, in the habitable zone, and all the terrain found on Earth was also found here. Fifty percent of the planetary surface was covered by water, and the colony had been built in an alpine environment. The merchant fleet and troop carriers full of Klingon colonists had arrived, the city now a bustling center of activity. The original colony had covered roughly 30 city blocks of territory, and with the masons and construction crews now on hand, Surla saw them already scanning structures and surveying the land to add more, and rebuild others. The admin building would be the Great Hall. Torn down and rebuilt, as it should be. For now, a longhouse had been emptied of its contents and was now the makeshift hall, with fire pit centered within and surrounded by stools, tables, and benches. Surla had absconded a large chair from a home, and now sat with her back to a wall, furs and tapestries hung behind her seat. It wasn't much of a chair for power, but all those present knew who she was and that was all that mattered.

Ch'tang, sitting with some companions at a table, had PADDs laid out before him, speaking so that Surla could hear him. "Reconstruction, and construction, are proceeding as they should, Surla."

"Excellent," Surla standing, scooping her mug into a wine barrel, came over and stood at the end of the table with Ch'tang nad his group of warriors. She drank a swallow of bloodwine. "What of the intercomm and the external screens for announcements?"

"The intercomm is functional, with only about half of the colony announcement screens operating. It will be enough," Ch'tang promised.

"Gather them in the main square," oredered Surla. "There's a cargo container I can stand on to be seen by all. It is time to make the announcements." Surla downed her wine and slammed the goblet down on the table as her soldiers stood, spinning on her heel and walking outside. Clambering up onto the cargo container, standing tall before those already within eyesight, Surla waited. It took a good hour but finally all the Klingons and Klingon allied beings were assembled in the town center. There was Surla, for all to see, wearing pendents and brooches upon her armor that she had taken from her victims and enemies. Microphone noew being fed through her combadge she began speaking.

"Well, here we are," Started Surla, chuckling at her opening statement and hearing the crowd returning some. "This is home. The seat for House Surla. We are in Wild Space with no government claiming jurisdiction. Therefore, it is NOW claimed!"

The crowd cheered, and she let them do so until they quieted themselves down. "To live within House Surla means that you have sworn an oath to me and mine. That you are a part of all this. Together we will celebrate the virtues of warfare--fearlessness, aggression, cunning, and strength under fire. We will seize and defend what is ours. We are a weaponized society and we will act as such!" More cheers. Higan climbd up and approached his mother, coming to stand in front of her as she spoke to the mob, her hands resting on his shoulders. Surla, patting his shoulder for all to see. "This is why we do what we do. For our children, to ensure that Klingons and our way of life have a future." Higan hooked his thumbs in his belt, standing tall while his mother paced back and forth addressing the throng. "Carpenters and masons will build upon this world. Farmers and textile merchants will see to our needs and then sell their wares off-world. Trade lanes will open once more, under our jurisdiction, and free-flowing commerce will once again commence."

The crowd cheered and Surla quickly motioned for them to settle down. "This will not be easy. Strife is the payment for rewards given, and if we cannot stand and endure we will fail. Restless warriors and warmaidens will be loaded onto ships for further raids, bringing back plunder for the betterment of House Surla. House coffers fill, and when they fill then the pockets of House members will also fill. I have chosen a Steward to look after House Surla while I am off-world and seeing to the needs of the empire. Ch'tang, step forward and be recognized."

Ch'tang mounted the cargo container, approaching his Lady. Surla removed his House symbol, replacing it with another that bore the symbols of power for her House. "In my absence you are leader. The orders you give are to be obeyed as if I had spoken them myself." Surla then stepped aside and motioned toward her brother, the crowd whooping and cheering his new posting.

Surla wore her neck rings, dress pins, armbands and finger rings she had taken from her dead opponents. It was all worn with a serious purpose; each object telling a story of foreign adventure, or recklessness and courage rewarded. Fitted out in the spoils of war, a Klingon was a living recruitment poster for the raiding life, beckoning young warriors and warmaidens to take an oath of loyalty in return for a share of booty. Surla would never be bashful about what she had achieved if she wanted to keep her power base and allow it to grow. "Go back to your lives, make this world ours, and reap the rewards of success! That is all!" Surla turned from the crowd, climbing down off of the container with Ch'tang and Higan. The boy ran off to go look at something as Surla spoke to Ch'tang, turning off her microphone. "I want a five light year sphere, claimed by House Surla, surrounding this system. This is now Klingon territory, and more to the point, MY territory."

Ch'tang quirked an eyebrow. "Surla, Starbase 249 is roughly 12.2 light years away. Oraxa is one of the systems near to Wild Space, and why Starfleet claimed it for medical and scientific research. It is far from dense populations of worlds, where a mistake in bio-research can't unleash some illness on the innocent."

"How far to the Federation border?" Surla spoke, asking.

"Seven to seven-point-two light years," Ch'tang responding. "Depending on border markers."

"Fine," Surla watching Higan, the boy seemingly fascinated as he watched the masons creating permacrete stoneworks as well as cutting granite blocks. "Extend our border that direction and lock their lines in place. I will not have the Federation claiming more territory each month, bit by bit."

Ch'tang, making notes on his PADD and nodding. "It is done. I will send this off to the High Council."

Surla, grinning and looking at her brother. "Invite the Chancellor out for a visit. Find something, anything, he can hunt. For that matter, find something we all can hunt."

Ch'tang acknowledged the orders, and the two of them separated, Surla watching Higan getting handed a laser cutter, being instructed on how to use it by a mason, and the young Klingon began to slice through granite blocks. This made Surla smile, that her son was not only brave and a true warrior, but that he also took interest in the mundane. It would build skills for the youngster, make him a better warrior and mate in years to come.


Now sitting in her great hall, with a proper matriarch seat and all the decor for a Klingon hall, Surla was dictating policies for her House. After the initial raids trade had dropped off dramatically in her territory, which was to be expected as freighter captains and merchants were hesitant to risk their wares on shipping lanes that had, only a few weeks ago, been the target of overly aggressive Klingon raiders. So, as the weeks passed and her hall and city seat were constructed, Surla had been contacted by several independent merchant guilds and freighter captains, asking permission to once again use the trade lanes bypassing her home system. The Larakin trade route came out of Federation space, forked into a Y at Korzha, and one route went galactic east while the other went galactic north. Surla assured them that the trade lanes were open once more, but that at any time all vessels could be inspected without warning. They agreed, and commerce began to pick up again, albeit with a stipend given to House Surla for using their trade routes.

The High Council had acknowledged her claim to the Korzha star system, seeing as how no other Klingons had laid claim to it. The territorial markers were now on record. Of course, the High Council had had to contact her and inform her that Federation diplomats were up in arms over her sudden, brutal attacks. Surla shrugged it off, not caring what the Federation thought when it came to regions they had no control, or say, over. The planet itself was now known as Surlana, seat to House Surla. There were already Klingon ships here from several Houses, all of them taking leave on Surlana to place their feet on soil instead of deck plates. A contingent of Orions had moved into the city, and as was usually the case with the green-skinned tarts, had already set up a club and brothel. It was make-shift currently, the main structure still under construction, but it worked to satisfy both starship crews and local residents.

Surla stood up and stretched, then stepped down the stairs of her raised platform, approaching Ch'tang. "I am taking the Bloodwing to 249, to visit Trinity. You know what I expect."

Once that was done Surla left the hall, making her way to the transporter pads. Beaming aboard the Bloodwing and making her way to the bridge, orders were given and the ship broke orbit. In less than an hour they were at warp heading for Federation space.



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