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Verse
Star
- Joined
- May 8, 2011
The ship of Sabal had the design of a metal eruption, a comet made out of long pyramids clustering around a dense center. Not your typical warbird, and it did not carry your typical Klingon, either. The clan of Sabal took it upon themselves to enact vengeance. It was honorable to tend to honor, after all, that's what their race was about. And such pursuits could not exist without the violence that was stitched into their brutal hearts.
Meymat stood at the console, slightly to the right of the middle in their bridge. Transparent steel and more traditional, oxidized metals were braided and built to make out the innards of their vessel. The light glowing from the machinations and power sources acted as other illumination through the transparent materials. It currently cast frightening shadows between the ridges of the spine that ran down his forehead. Longer than other Klingons, and with more angular features and a larger mouth, Meymat looked more like a hunter of large fields than his sturdier brethren who stayed at the other stations around him, controlling the Baktan, a birthright of the Sabal leader.
Another birthright, was the seeking of vengeance wherever he may find it. As the position of judge in their own court, by their own law, there were many collisions with other Klingon clans, but reputation backed by unforgiving action, had kept the Sabal respected and feared, despite their small numbers. It was said, though, that some of his methods were indulgent, disgraceful, that he would allow himself freedoms in dishonoring others should he deem it fitting. Sabal was also a stain upon the Klingon pantheon. That's why the ones who knew the reason and prey of his current hunt didn't mind.
He had come upon a wreckage within their territory. No survivors, but there were traces of a lander that made it out to Federation space. He gathered enough from the ship's all but destroyed logs and feeds to know it had been that pesky faction within Star Fleet that liked to traffic in information and deceit. Going after Federation vessels was always a bigger ordeal, but Meymat liked to leap headlong into challenges, to any perverse end. His morals were always his compass, and he was fueled by revenge, whether his or others, so he carried himself with a quiet rage that made it easy to push toward most obstacles, even the staggering might of armies upon armies of united worlds.
It was this kind of tenacity and the religious attachment between the Klingons on the Baktan that brought them here. That silvery disk leading the ship they'd been stalking had its name plastered all over it. Meymat raised his hand and their cloaked, weaponized vehicle stopped by a rock in the belt the Star Fleet ship was passing by. They wouldn't be looking this way. He flicked a finger at a red console and the three Klingons there readied three javelins. They were shot off without warning and darted out of the Baktan hull with haste. When two first warheads impacted, it sent ripples through the federation's shield. The third one, intentionally tardy, went through and hit the disk dead on.
Meymat hailed their bridge.
Meymat stood at the console, slightly to the right of the middle in their bridge. Transparent steel and more traditional, oxidized metals were braided and built to make out the innards of their vessel. The light glowing from the machinations and power sources acted as other illumination through the transparent materials. It currently cast frightening shadows between the ridges of the spine that ran down his forehead. Longer than other Klingons, and with more angular features and a larger mouth, Meymat looked more like a hunter of large fields than his sturdier brethren who stayed at the other stations around him, controlling the Baktan, a birthright of the Sabal leader.
Another birthright, was the seeking of vengeance wherever he may find it. As the position of judge in their own court, by their own law, there were many collisions with other Klingon clans, but reputation backed by unforgiving action, had kept the Sabal respected and feared, despite their small numbers. It was said, though, that some of his methods were indulgent, disgraceful, that he would allow himself freedoms in dishonoring others should he deem it fitting. Sabal was also a stain upon the Klingon pantheon. That's why the ones who knew the reason and prey of his current hunt didn't mind.
He had come upon a wreckage within their territory. No survivors, but there were traces of a lander that made it out to Federation space. He gathered enough from the ship's all but destroyed logs and feeds to know it had been that pesky faction within Star Fleet that liked to traffic in information and deceit. Going after Federation vessels was always a bigger ordeal, but Meymat liked to leap headlong into challenges, to any perverse end. His morals were always his compass, and he was fueled by revenge, whether his or others, so he carried himself with a quiet rage that made it easy to push toward most obstacles, even the staggering might of armies upon armies of united worlds.
It was this kind of tenacity and the religious attachment between the Klingons on the Baktan that brought them here. That silvery disk leading the ship they'd been stalking had its name plastered all over it. Meymat raised his hand and their cloaked, weaponized vehicle stopped by a rock in the belt the Star Fleet ship was passing by. They wouldn't be looking this way. He flicked a finger at a red console and the three Klingons there readied three javelins. They were shot off without warning and darted out of the Baktan hull with haste. When two first warheads impacted, it sent ripples through the federation's shield. The third one, intentionally tardy, went through and hit the disk dead on.
Meymat hailed their bridge.
