The Story of The IKS Kotar (Parts 2 & 3)

The Story of The IKS Kotar (Parts 2 & 3)

Drinks with a Dahar Master

The image of Kor appeared to down his tankard of ale; Kurgar did the same before he spoke.

“I must be quite inebriated.”

“You are.” quipped the vision of Kor.

“What do you want?”

“Come come, it is not every day that one gets an audience with a dead Dahar Master.

“I’ll drink to that…”

“It looks like you already have.”

Kurgar was about to reply; however a burp seemed to take its place.

“It seems your brash arrogance has made you enemies in the KDF and has left you, lineless.”

“I’ve always been an overachiever Kor.”

With that the vision of Kor bellowed a laugh, pulled out a flask and took a swig.

“Impudence, I have always liked that trait of yours Kurgan, it suits you”

“It is Kurgar now.”

“Whatever, the point is you drunken petaq that there is still glory in your future, if you can find the time to pull your head out of that bottle of Breshtanti Ale. It is true many in the Empire have disdain for you, and a few I wager want you dead, but I did not live as long as I did without making and killing many enemies. I also knew when to rely on those few close enough to me to call…friend. When the time is grave they can be more useful than a disruptor.”

“Koloth?” muttered Kurgar.

“Yes and Kang. Friends like that come around once in ones lifetime if you are fortunate, value those bonds, we Klingons make few friends, and less we can actually trust.”

“I have not many like that, one already serves the Black Fleet, but there are two others.”

The image of Kor got up from the table and grinned “Well then contact them, you need a ship and soon; glory does not wait for a drunken fool.”

“Hmmm…IKS Drunken Fool, almost as good of a name as the IKS Fek’lhr’s Hoof”, thought Kurgar for a brief moment before he focused once again on the image of Kor.

“You honour me Kor, thank you.”

“Qapla Kurgar son of Kurdan, it was good to drink with you one last time.”

With that the image of Kor made his way to the exit. He stopped and scanned the pub.

“Take out your disruptor slowly and ready it under the table Kurgar, there is a certain Klingon over at the bar that I think does not like you.” said Kor sardonically.

Kurgar out of the corner of his eye spotted the Klingon Kor was talking about, “Why did I not see him sooner?” he thought. Kurgar rolled his eyes in the back of his head, let his hand spill his tankard and fall to his lap while his ridge made a whack on the table.

Calling a friend

Kurgar with a part snore part growl started to stir. It had been just shy of thirteen hours since he had left the Orion pub. He had an interesting couple of days, with the apex being a drunken vision of Kor son of Rynar and an assassination attempt. The assassin had been dead for over twelve hours. Kurgar was in no shape for an “Honourable” fight, and when did a hired gun need an “Honourable” death? Kurgar lured him in. By looking like he passed out from a long time of drinking (with was closer to fact than fiction) the killer went for the kill. Kurgar instead of fumbling his stingtongue disruptor from it’s holster just swiveled on the belt under the table. Kurgar waited and listened. Shortly the assassin came over. Spiting on the back of Kurgar’s head the assassin started tell Kurgar on how worthless he was and how soon he would see Grethor. Kurgar’s shot took out two legs, one assassin’s one table. As the assassin’s scream engulfed the pub, Kurgar pushed back from the table pulling his disruptor from the holster. The assassin went down with the metal three legged table falling on his body. Kurgar saw the wounded assassin’s kut’luch on the floor out of his foe’s reach. With his arm pinned under the table he was trying to fish out his own disruptor. Kurgar rose quickly from his chair, he was going to step on his wrist to stop him from getting his weapon. That’s when the pub started to spin; misjudging his step Kurgar’s foot slid on the assassin’s thigh down to his wrist. To stop himself from joining the assassin on the floor Kurgar slammed his forearms on the table; the killer yelped as Kurgar drunken bulk press the metal table into his chest. Some thought they heard the snapping of ribs. Kurgar adjusted his stance. Holding the table with his free hand he pushed himself upright and brought the foot not on the wrist closer in. By doing so he planted the toe of his boot into the stub of the assassin’s left leg. Another yelp but this time it came with some very colorful curses. Kurgar leaned in and spoke.

“By rights you should have had me dead; I didn’t even see you coming. In all fairness you should also throw a curse or two Kor’s way. If his vision did not come in here and have drinks with me you wouldn’t be dying now.”

And with that Kurgar leveled his disruptor at the assassin's head and fired.

The rest was a bit of a blur; he dealt with the Andorian barkeep, bought a round of drinks for the pub, (he thinks with the killer’s latinum) and got additional lodging, (not thinking it was prudent to stay at his original hotel). Before he passed out on the floor he remembered a subspace message he sent. It was to his old XO Keath. Kor told him to rely on a friend, so he did. Kurgar slowly opened his eyes, wondering if Keath had already replied.