The cockpit was bathed in the light refracting off of the blue orb that was Earth, or tera’ to the Klingons aboard the IKS Yihoh- a once Bird of Prey, now little more than a scavenging vessel – reeling from one of its many defeats at the hands of the brutalistic Dominion. Even so, this ship was one with a pride of place and history to be certain, one any Klingon would be proud to serve upon, but for one aboard it was not a place of pride or joy, but one of shame – and one of redemption. Standing upon the bridge, arms behind his back was Qel’vek, son of Kla’vek of the Fallen house of Krull – upon his shoulder sat a ferocious looking Kronosian Falcon – standing skittishly aboard the almost stonelike form of the Chief Medical Officer of the Yihoh. As the starlight and sunlight combined in this reflection, Qel’vek took a brief look over all of the belongings that he intended to take with him – his sash, his father’s Bat’leth strapped around his back, and at his hip lay his Mek’leth that sat not all too far from his datapad which held within much of the scientific and medical knowledge that he had learned in the many battlefields that he had both worked and fought.

Soon enough however, the true destination was revealed – not the blue marble of Earth, but the vast shipyards that orbited it. As he pondered, he was broken out of it by the other members of the crew- who began to sing loudly…

“Qoy qeylIs puqloD. Qoy puqbe’pu’.yoHbogh matlhbogh je SuvwI’Say’moHchu’ may’ ‘Iw. maSuv manong ‘ej maHoHchu’. nI’be’ yInmaj ‘ach wovqu’.batlh maHeghbej ‘ej yo’ qIjDaq vavpu’ma’ DImuv.pa’ reH maSuvtaHqu’. mamevQo’. maSuvtaH. Ma’ov.”

—“Hear! Sons of Kahless. Hear! Daughters too! The blood of battle washes clean…The Warrior brave and true! We fight, we love, and then we kill. Our lives burn short and bright, Then we die with honor and join our fathers in the Black Fleet where we battle forever, battling on through the Eternal fight.” —As the crew sang, the looked to him and shouted with vigor, this would be their last goodbye. Though in the early days, he was shunned on many respects, both for his choice in profession and the belief that it made him into some sort of weakling for wishing to save the dying instead of letting them join the Black Fleets to join with Kahless… Krull did not take these insults lightly and backed his profession with violence – sending many of his critics to the very infirmary which they disdained. – and for the history of his House as traitors to the Emperor; he had however earned the crew’s respect time and time again, both for saving their very lives, and for his skill as a warrior.

The Bird of Prey, through subspace communication hailed Earth Station McKinely, addressing themselves as the Captain of the vessel began “Qap’la!” he stated, slamming his fist to his chest and thudding the ground with vigour, the human on the other side of the monitor nodding in return and standing at some level of attention “By Order of Martok, and request of Federation, you will take this Warrior- and Healer..” he said, with some hesitation. One of the Klingon subordinates shifted through a series of documentations and qualifications – eventually the message being passed on back to the McKinely.

“I see, this message will be passed onto the Captain of the Denver, the ship docked here; the majority of the crew are on shoreleave at the moment, but I will pass the message on to both the current Chief Medical Officer and the Captain of the Vessel.”

“Denver…” Krull muttered, walking up to the screen “Who is this vessel named after? Which great hero?” he asked, the Captain of the Yihoh looking just as interested in this.“…I think it’s just a name” stated the technician with a little fear

“Nothing is just a name.” Krull corrected, shaking his head. The hail promptly ended after they received the greenlight to beam across.

The Captain said no words to him as he made his leave, merely gripping him on the shoulders and looking intensely into his one good eye, Krull returned the gaze -before gripping his Captain that he had served faithful for many years on the shoulders hard. They then brought their heads back and cracked the ridges against eachother forcefully- a resounding crack. And at that, he stepped aboard the teleport pad, and slammed his fist against his chest- his falcon screeching in victory.

“Qap’la!”

“Qap’la!” the Captain returned.

Though headed away from the frontlines for the first time in a long time, Krull felt a rumble and a flame in his heart that the battlefield would not be so far away. But what excited him more for the moment, was the opportunity that was on Earth, the opportunity to learn.