New fic, crossover with Star trek and Star Wars. So the usual 'no complaining about power levels'! Jaroul and Gartul are my OCs. All others I'm only borrowing.

Here we go!

Chapter One: First Impressions, First Disaster

2378/Stardate 55264.9/26 years after the Battle of Yavin

The sun rose over the First city of the Klingon Empire, turning the Qam-Chee River crimson with its rays. Merchants opened their shops along streets that were already filling with foot traffic and speeders. The Great Hall's doors opened, a symbolic gesture of hiding nothing and showing their 'honesty' to the galaxy at large.

At the center of the Great Hall, two dozen Klingon senators walked into the main hall and stood before a steel-gray throne. Each one wore the ceremonial metal robes of their office and were unarmed save for a ceremonial d'k tagh knife holstered at their belt. At precisely 800 hours local time, a burly Klingon swathed in the cloak of office approached the throne from behind and walked up the steps to it.

Chancellor Martok, son of Urthog, turned and sat down, grunting and looking out at the assembled councilors with his one good eye. "I call this meeting of the Klingon High Council to order!" he shouted, banging on his armrest. A smile crossed his face. "Well, as much order as a group of Klingons can muster," he said, his smile turning into a grin. He pulled a PADD out from a band on his cloak and touched the screen, scrolling through its contents. "Now to the first order of business..."

Several hours passed as edicts and orders were given. Reports from General Goluk, head of the Defense Force and other top warriors were heard. Councilors talked of laws and amendments. After lunch, petitioners were let in to be heard.

The back of the High Council parted slightly, allowing those with enough clout or with big enough problems to speak to the High Council. Four humanoids in brown robes reaching down to right above the ground approached, hoods covering their heads. The lead one reached up and pulled his hood back, revealing a human male with green eyes and long black hair tied into a ponytail. He looked up at Martok and bowed his head. "Chancellor Martok, I am Kyp Durron, Jedi Master from the New Republic." He motioned to the others, who took off their hoods. "May I introduce Miko Reglia, Ganner Rhysode and Wurth Skidder?"

There was silence for a moment before Martok leaned forward, looking down slightly at the Jedi. "And?" he asked, waving at Kyp. "Is this some sort of diplomatic entreaty? Are we supposed to be impressed by you in some fashion?"

Kyp's eyes narrowed. "From what we've heard from the Federation, Klingons prefer actions to words." He pushed back his robe, reaching up and unclasping it from around his neck and letting it drop to the stone floor. He stood in the middle of the Great Hall, bare arms rippling with muscle. His right hand dangled near his belt and the lightsaber clipped to it. "So, Chancellor. Shall I act?"

One of the councilors snorted and crossed his thick arms over a barrel-like chest, almost bursting from his armor. "Act? Be silent, child. Your posturing does little to endear the New Republic to us. At least the Remnant sent someone qualified for negotiations."

Kyp's spine bristled as he wheeled around on his heel to face the councilor, but Wurth suddenly spoke up. "The Remnant?" he half-shouted, turning his head and locking piercing eyes onto the Councilor. "I thought you folks had more honor than that!"

A low growl escaped the Councilor's mouth, rumbling up from his throat. He unsheathed his knife and slid a switch on it, causing two secondary blades to spring forth along the main blade. He waved his d'k tahg around stepping forward. "No one insults Gartul, son of Ver'kel!"

Wurth smirked and unclasped his robe, letting it fall to the floor. His lightsaber sprang from his belt to his hand, igniting with a snap-hiss. He held the orange blade up in a one-handed grip. "You really don't want to do this," he said, waving his other hand and reaching out with the Force.

Kyp shook his head. "Wurth, don't do this," he barked. He held up his hands. "We don't want to fight, Councilor."

Gartul bared his sharpened teeth as he waved his knife back and forth, advancing upon Wurth. "To a Klingon, all life is battle!" He bent his legs at the knee slightly and spread his legs apart, clenching his free hand. "Come on, boy! Let us see what a spoon bender can do against a real warrior!"

Wurth walked over, closing the distance with Gartul. He rolled his shoulders and swung his lightsaber at Gartul's right hand, aiming for the blade. "Don't say-" He stopped talking and his mouth dropped in surprise when his plasma blade hit the d'k tahg and stopped, bouncing off slightly. "What the kriff?"

Gartul's face nearly split in half as he grinned, glancing down at his knife. "Hah! Seems your fancy laser swords aren't as good as an old-fashioned knife." He suddenly moved, advancing upon Wurth with speed that belied his size. He parried away the plasma blade before thrusting his free hand out, hitting the younger and smaller human in the face with an unblocked palm strike right to the face.

Wurth flew back, blood streaming from his mashed nose. He struck the rough stone floor, skidding a half-meter before stopping. He groaned and blinked twice. "That went well..." he groaned, wiping at his nose. He suddenly looked up as his danger sense flared. Gartul loomed over him, knife hand twitching. "Oh, shavit..."

Gartul leaned forward, but stopped when twin snap-hisses filled the air, followed by the whine of lightsabers. "Not very honorable," he said as Ganner and Miko stood behind him, blades aimed at his neck.

Ganner snarled. "Touch him and there's gonna be an emergency vote for a new councilor," he said through clenched teeth.

Kyp held up a hand and stepped forward. "Ganner, Miko, stand down. Now."

Miko glanced to the side with his dark eyes. "Kyp, he's gonna-"

"STAND DOWN!" Kyp bellowed, his face flushing. He locked his flashing green eyes on Gartul. "Although if you do harm Wurth, it will be the last mistake you ever make."

Wurth cleared his throat. "I appreciate this, guys, but I got myself into this mess. I'll get myself out." He looked up at the Klingon towering over him and leaned forward. "Ready?"

Gartul chuckled, then sheathed his knife. He looked down at Wurth and extended his hand. "There'd be no honor in killing you, Wurth Skidder." He grasped a shocked Wurth and hauled him to his feet. "Interesting weapon, there. You built it yourself?"

Wurth nodded, his mouth hanging open.

Kyp looked to Martok as he sat, grinning on his throne. "Typical for the High Council?" He straightened up and placed his hands on his hips. "We're here to talk, not fight."

Martok shook his head and peered at the young man with his one good eye. "We are Klingons, Master Durron. We can do both!" He leaned forward and the grin dropped away. "Welcome to the Klingon Empire."


Ganner and Miko hovered over Wurth as the latter sat on a wooden bench pushed up against a stone wall. "I think the nose is healing nicely," Ganner observed, poking at a bluish area of skin right next to the left nostril. "It really was a good hit."

Wurth arched his eyebrows at his friend. "Gee, thanks for your concern." He leaned over and stared at Kyp from across the room. "A little help here, fearless leader?"

Kyp's head tilted up as he lay sprawled across a metal plank hanging from another stone wall. He leveraged himself up with help from a chain attached to the bench and grinned. "I think you're doing fine, Wurth." He looked around the room the Klingons had provided for them. Torches in braziers were mounted on the walls, actually bolted in-or faked for aesthetic purposes. Shelves with actual paper books and weapons straight out of a fantasy novel hanging from the walls were also there in their four-room living quarters.

Still, modern touches like computer panels, automatic doors, control panels and supposed replicators were scattered about. Kyp stood up and walked over to a small recessed section in a wall lined with modern-looking material. He cleared his voice. "Water," he said. He was rewarded as a small metal tankard materialized in a swirl of colors. He picked up the pewter-colored mug and sniffed it, not feeling anything untoward from it. Kyp took a sip before draining it. "Best water I've ever had," he said, grinning.

Miko glanced over from where he leaned over Wurth. "It can't be that good," he remarked. He straightened up and walked over to the replicator, leaning over and peering into the little alcove. "Think it makes nerf steak?" he said, chuckling.

"I doubt they've ever heard of nerf," Kyp said, smiling. The smile suddenly dropped away. "Damn, I don't know any Klingon foods." His lips curled slightly and he balled his fist up. The Jedi Master paced around a bit before throwing up his muscular arms. "The diplomatic corps sent us with bare-bones knowledge at best! All we know is Klingons like to fight and are one of the Federation's allies." He walked up to one of the decorations and picked at it. "And apparently they like old stuff?"

All four men suddenly look to the door as they sensed someone approaching. Ganner's blue eyes narrowed. "I don't think... she." He glanced to Kyp and nodded once. "I don't sense anything off from her." His nostrils flared and he swallowed. "And I think I smell food!"

Kyp raised his hand and gestured, sending out a small telekinetic push. The door slid open, revealing a young Klingon female, appearing to be about Kyp's age. She wore an ankle-length silver dress, with black boots peeking out right below the hem and a red chain-mail blouse cinched with a black belt. A knife was sheathed in the belt, along with a few pouches. Her thin but toned right arm was extended to a control panel near the doorframe, but her fingers had not yet touched the buttons.

Her eyes widened slightly, pushing her almost petite forehead crest back slightly. Her mouth formed a small 'o' of surprise as she stared at the door. She looked inside at the four men and her hand clenched slightly. "Did you do that?" she asked, snarling slightly.

Kyp raised his hand and waggled his fingers. "Sorry about that," he said, smiling. "Just wanted to make sure no one was trying to kill us or anything like that." He waved his arm out to the room. "Please come in. My name is Kyp Durron." He gestured to the other Jedi in the room. "This is Ganner Rhysode, Wurth Skidder and Miko Reglia," he said, introducing them.

The Klingon stepped into the room, pulling a wheeled cart laden with several trays and bowlsbehind her. "I am Jaroul, and I bring food." She stepped back and motioned to several meats, a bowl of soup a steam wafting above it and a pitcher of water with cups arrayed around it. "Heart of targ, bregit lung and gladst."

Wurth stood up from the bench and walked over. He picked up a dish of bregit lung and sniffed at it. Finally, he picked it up and took a bite of it. "Not bad," he said between bites. "A bit chewy, but tasty." He smiled at Jaroul. "Thanks!"

Jaroul smiled and nodded her head, baring white teeth. "You are welcome, Wurth." She tilted her head as she regarded his round face and the small bruises. "You're less injured than I thought."

Kyp nodded as Ganner and Miko walked over and began eating. "Jedi healing trance, along with some bacta patches earlier." A smile played over his face. "I thought Klingons liked scars, though."

Jaroul snorted as she picked up a pipius claw and bit into it, breaking the shell open with her teeth and sucking the meat out. "Scars in battle, not scars when humbled by a High Council member." She dropped the claw back onto the plate and tapped her chain-mail blouse. "You're lucky Gartul is honorable and didn't kill you then and there."

Wurth paled slightly. "You were there?"

Jaroul pursed her lips. "I heard about it..." She growled. "You'll find out anyway. Gartul is my father." She spied Ganner as he paused before taking a bite of heart of targ and her lips curled. "Oh, please. Warriors do not resort to poison!"

Ganner glanced down at the hunk of meat before placing it in his mouth, chewing and swallowing. "Not bad," he said, draining a glass of water.

Kyp crossed his bare arms and stared at Jaroul, reaching out with his senses. He detected curiosity and intrigue from her. He rubbed his chin before thumping his chest lightly. "Thanks for the food," he said, smiling slightly.

Jaroul thumped her own chest. "You are welcome, Kyp Durron." She looked around at their room. "Is this to your liking? It might be a bit... bare, compared to what humans are used to." Her eyes danced with an inner fire as she stepped forward, closing the distance with Kyp. "But we Klingons do not make out bodies soft with pillows or pads." She tapped his chest. "You seem to be sterner than most."

Kyp swallowed as his cheeks flushed. He reached up to tug at his collar, quickly realizing his shirt had no collar. He stepped back as the room closed in on him slightly. "Well, I-" He stopped as he spied Ganner, Miko and Wurth grabbing the cart and wheeling it off toward one of the side rooms. "Hey!"

Ganner turned and tossed Kyp a salute. "Just wanna sit down, maybe read some literature." He gave Kyp a wink and smirk. "You keep negotiating with Jaroul there, Kyp. Make some real connections with the Empire," he said before exiting.

Kyp rolled his green eyes before he turned back-to see Jaroul standing right next to him, an almost savage grin on her face. He backpedaled, hands up in front of him. "Whoa!" he half-shouted, carefully avoiding any obstacles behind him. He eventually hit the stone wall and slid against it, but his legs clipped one of the metal benches and he stumbled slightly, Jaroul following close on his heels. "You just met me!" he said, rubbing his shin and hopping slightly.

Jaroul laughed as she kept on Kyp's heels. "Maybe I'm simply seeing something I like." She paused and placed her hands on her hips, cocking her head to the side. "Wait, this doesn't make sense."

The Jedi Master barked a laugh. "You're telling me!"

Jaroul canted her head down slightly and stared at him. " I mean why don't you simply use your powers to push me away?" She motioned to the door on the opposite side of the room from where the pair stood. "If you can effortlessly open a duranium door and override the controls, lifting me up and over should be easy for you." Jaroul's brow furrowed and she suddenly grinned. "Unless you like the chase and the inevitable conclusion."

Kyp shook his head. "The reason is the door's a door, but you're you. It would be a bit of the Dark Side to simply Force push you away when you're not doing any harm."

Jaroul paused in her advances. "Dark Side?" she asked. "What is the 'Dark Side'?"

The Jedi breathed out a sigh of relief. He walked around Jaroul and sat down on the metal bench hanging off the wall. He patted the grating next to him and waited for the young female to sit down before speaking. "With the Force-the mystical energy field created by all living things that surrounds us, permeates and binds the universe together-there is the Light, and the Dark."

He leaned back and focused on a point a few meters away before continuing. "The Dark Side is... something to avoid. It is acid to the soul, corrupting and turning you into that you hate the most." He looked up into Jaroul's brown eyes and the next words slipped out. "It robs you of your honor, like Molor."

Jaroul breathed out and nodded. "The old tyrant, deposed by Kahless who forged the true laws of honor."

Kyp also nodded while his mind searched frantically for just who the hell Molor was. "Yeah, precisely... I name a Klingon I've never heard of. Thank you very much, Force. He cleared his throat. "So... oh, kriff it. Who is Molor?"

There was a pause before Jaroul spoke. "You-you don't know? But you used his name!"

Kyp swallowed and leaned back, his head tapping slightly against the wall. "Jedi powers aren't just physical. We get flashes, insight into things." He pointed at the door. "Al four of us sensed you there before we opened the door. Images, words and sometimes whole sentences." He chuckled. "It can get a bit annoying."

The door chime suddenly sounded. Kyp rose and walked over, gesturing. The door slid open, revealing an older male Klingon with shock-white hair clad in robes. "Chancellor Martok will have an audience with you tomorrow at 0800 hours in front of the High Council," he announced.

Kyp nodded. "Thank you," he said, face hardening.

The Klingon chuckled and shook his head. "You might not thank me after the meeting." He stepped back and the door closed, leaving Kyp standing there.

The Jedi whipped his head around, pony tail jangling behind him. He glanced at the side room Ganner, Miko and Wurth had disappeared into while walking over to Jaroul. He waited for his three former apprentices to appear in response to his telepathic summons before speaking. "Jaroul, we need your help." he spread out his arms. "If we don't get some sense of how to act tomorrow, or what proper decorum for Klingons is, we could cause an interstellar incident. Or a war. Or worse."

"Worse than a war?" Ganner asked.

Jaroul ignored him and focused on Kyp. She looked him over before nodding. "I shall tell you all I know." She bared her teeth and spread her arms out. "Welcome to my world."


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