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» New Active User
Destiny EmptyFri Feb 23, 2024 12:52 am by sirvanyev

» Map of station?
Destiny EmptySat Aug 17, 2019 6:23 am by Reanna Aloi

» Price of Liberty crew
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» Curiousity Topics
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» As ithers see us?
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» Species profile - the Thuln
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» Is it time we had our own system of "stardates"?
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» For VR buffs
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» Noelle's Request to join the Fleet
Destiny EmptySat Mar 02, 2019 5:44 pm by Lastline


    Destiny

    Talaina Kazzur
    Talaina Kazzur
    Done the Impossible


    Fleet Rank : Vice Admiral
    Number of posts : 722
    Location : Bonnie ol' England
    Ship Name : U.S.S. Viper
    Ship Registry Number : NX-204971-X
    Ship Class : Defiant
    Fleet Division : Command

    Destiny Empty Destiny

    Post by Talaina Kazzur Wed Sep 23, 2015 10:43 am

    The body dropped to the floor, encased in it's own blood. The rest of the patrons ran screming out of the door as the bartender took out a shotgun and clicked the rifle, aiming it square at the giant lizard in the middle of the room.

    "O-okay buddy. You need to leave now."


    K'hotiim barely turned, angling his head ever so slightly to the right so he could glare the bartender down. Ever so softly, a gutteral growl rumbled in his deep throat. "If you intend to use such a primitive weapon, then use it."

    "I-I-I'm not gonna ask again."

    The bartender was shaking. K'hotiim simply let out a huff and scooped his glass up off the table. Downing the last half pint, he casually threw the glass at the bartender and started for the door. A shower of plaster did nothing to faze him. The shot was pathetic. Such a coward was not worth the time. K'hotiim had dealt with the unsufferable human that caused him to kick off. As the Gorn stepped out of the bar, he paused and looked skyward, closing his eyes. The hot air of Nimbus III was like paradise. He could lie down and go to sleep right on the step. But that would probably not be wise. Too many people around. So instead, he took his shirt off and slung it over his shoulder, making his way through the town.


    Finally passing through the main gates, he paused to look around. Scorpions littered the desert not far out, so he couldn't go too far. But there was a very large rock nearby. He sauntered over and sat down. Wadding his shirt into a pillow, he positioned it behind his head and laid back. It wasn't long before a soft snoring carried over the desert.





    He was aware of a presence before a word was spoken. Living under Klingon rule, one's senses were trained rather well. Instinctively waking himself up, he opened his eyes to see another Gorn close. Despite the heat, he was wearing a full uniform. One of someone high ranking in the Empire. But that wasn't the odd part. He had the exact same nose as K'hotiim. Frowning, he pushed himself upright, but the visitor held up a hand.

    "Don't get up. I know how comfortable that is."
    "Oh you do?"
    "Yes. I know you won't believe me, but I'm you. From the future."

    A riotous laugh escaped K'hotiim's lips, one that would send wildlife running for miles, if any were around. "Like I haven't heard that before."

    The newcomer sat down on the rock beside K'hotiim. "It's true. Think of a number. Any number."

    "Ok."
    "You're thinking how you really need another pint to get rid of this drunken hallucination, and that terrans are very weak. Despite me asking you for a number."

    K'hotiim narrowed his eyes. "Okay...... So you know how I think. Doesn't prove-"

    The future K'hotiim leaned in close and whispered. "Someday, the Hegemony will rule the Klingons. That is your greatest dream."

    K'hotiim growled and got to his feet. "Ok. So you're me from the future. What do you want."
    "I would think I would be a little friendlier to myself."
    "You know I'm hungover and not in the mood."

    Future K'hotiim sighed and also stood up. "Yes, I'd forgotten what a mean drunk I can be." Seeing K'hotiim's expression, he continued. "I stopped drinking when I took my ship."

    "HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! No Klingon would let me command a ship."
    "Not just any ship. A Vor'cha."
    "Now I know you're lying."
    "Listen. My time is running short. You have an important task ahead of you. The Iconians, a once extinct species, have returned. They have laid waste to the galaxy, and it's only through finding out what we can now, that we could stop them."
    "Iconians?"
    "Yes. They once ruled-"
    "I know what Iconians are. No one has seen one in millenia."
    "They return in a few years. They have Dyson Spheres that can transport entire fleets instantly. After they try to destabilise our alliances, they strike en masse. The Klingons all sing about how glorious it is. We know better. Much of the Alpha and Beta quadrants have fallen, and it's only a matter of time before they strike into the Gamma. We thought we defeated them before when the Solanae Dyson Sphere was destroyed, but it somehow came back. Temporal incursions or something. And that's why I'm here. A last ditch attempt to ensure you're ready. That we are ready. During the next few years, keep an eye out for Iconian tech. Information. Anything that can give you an edge. You are not the only one we're contacting like this, but you will play an important part in the future."


    K'hotiim was silent as he took it all in. "So.... basically what you're saying is.... I need to learn everything I can about the Iconians."
    "Yes. Here, take this device. It has a sensor tuned to Iconian power frequencies. It'll register when something is in the vicinity."

    K'hotiim took the small circular device and gave it a quick glance over. Seemed like a standard tricorder in operation. Future K'hotiim continued. "I know what you're about to ask. Why is Iconian tech littered throughout the galaxy? I don't know. Probably more temporal incursions. Just know, you have to do this. For the sake of the Hegemony. For the sake of the galaxy."


    K'hotiim looked at the device, then at his future self. "Ok. Sounds easy enough."

    "Thank you. I hope you don't live the same future I have. Qa'pla!"

    Future K'hotiim saluted and vanished in a flash of light. K'hotiim looked at the device in his claw. "So... my own Vor'cha? And some high ranking position? Interesting. I look forward to seeing how that plays out." He pocketed the device and leaned back on the rock. He was just a second officer of a lowly B'rel. It made no sense that he would eventually get a Vor'cha. Still, if his future had said it, it must have happened. K'hotiim decided to start pushing his position more. Angle himself into the captaincy of this ship, and move up the ranks. And maybe, just maybe, once he was a Captain, he would be able to start helping the Gorn Rebellion and start the Hegemony on the path to ruling. He knew a couple of good officers he could transfer to his command. But it would have to be gradual. A newly promoted Gorn Captain suddenly transferring a bunch of Gorn onto his ship would be far too suspicious. The ship wouldn't be back to pick him up until tomorrow. He had until then to decide just how he was meant to save the universe.

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