The Klingon Art of War

by Keith R. A. DeCandido

  WARRIORS MUST ANNOUNCE THEMSELVES. PROCLAIMING THEIR INTENTIONS AND DESIRES—ENTERING TO THE TRUMPETS OF THEIR CERTAINTY—WARRIORS MAKE THEMSELVES KNOWN AT ALL TIMES. THEIRS IS THE WAY OF HONESTY AND BACKBONE. FOR THIS REASON, THEY FORSWEAR THE SHADOWS. A WARRIOR DOES NOT WHISPER, NOR PLOT, NOR CONNIVE IN UNWITNESSED SECRECY. WARRIORS SHOW THEIR FACES AND HURRY TO CONFRONT DANGER, FEAR, AND PAIN. YOU MUST NOT HIDE. MAKE YOUR CAUSE KNOWN TO ALL, EVEN TO YOUR ENEMY. IT IS ONLY THROUGH CANDOR, AS SIMPLE AS A BLADE, THAT YOU CAN ACHIEVE TRUE STRENGTH AND LASTING HONOR.

  OF KLINGONS AND BEASTS

  Honor comes through combat. True combat requires two foes, face-to-face. There is no enrichment of the spirit if you do not look your opponents in the face, if you do not see the fire in their eyes, if you do not show the fire in yours.

  There is a clarity that comes from two warriors fighting each other. In combat, all artifice, all posturing, is stripped away. During the time of battle, it matters not what family one was born to. Your past deeds, or misdeeds, are of no consequence. All aspects of life are burned away in the crucible of combat, leaving only two warriors, two weapons, and the will to win. It is simply the truth of two warriors battling each other.

  In those moments when warrior confronts warrior, all that is left is skill and cunning and speed and guile. Combat kindles the fire of honor that burns in a warrior’s soul.

  Authentic battle comes only when warriors face each other. The definition of each combatant can be found in the other’s eyes.

  Turning your back on a warrior is the greatest of insults. Such an action states that you do not fear your opponent, do not think your foe worthy of your attention or of combat. You display your unwillingness to show that person your face, to regard your opponent as a rightful combatant. It shows contempt for combat itself, for the very institution of war, the mother of all Klingons.

  It is also foolish. Showing an enemy your back invites a backstabbing. True, this result would prove your foe cowardly, but you would be just as dead. (Blows to the back call to mind the old saying about misfortune in battle: The unlikeliest sword can still be blessed with a well-timed strike. And remember the adage: The greatest demon is luck.) Worse, you will have died disgracefully, without even seeing your opponent’s face, in combat that was no combat but only the clashing of beasts.

  The klongat will often attack its prey unawares, not giving the creature the opportunity to defend itself. The wam serpent slinks along the ground, hidden by the tall grass, until it rises and strikes. But we are Klingons, and our combat serves a loftier purpose, that of honor. Klingons who fight without showing their faces are no different from the lurking klongat and the creeping wam serpent. This is why HaDI’baH 1 is one of the greatest insults a Klingon can utter.

  THE FEARFUL WARLORD

  Kahless’s mate, the Lady Lukara, had a brother named Ki’Var. He served as a warrior in the army of the warlord Kranx. Under the direction of Kranx, Ki’Var won many campaigns, conquering Kopf’s Cliff and Ketha for the warlord.

  However, Ki’Var’s victories led to his becoming very popular with the troops and the people. Kranx feared Ki’Var would rally the support of his subjects in a coup.

  One night, Ki’Var came to give a report to Kranx on the conquering of Ketha. After doing so, he turned to leave. Kranx then walked up behind the warrior and thrust his blade into Ki’Var’s back.

  Kranx tried to declare Ki’Var a traitor, accusing him of consorting with the royal family of Ketha, who had fled into exile after Ki’Var’s victory. But Ki’Var’s sister, the great Lady herself, pled her brother’s case. In the end, the people believed Lukara and not Kranx. Lukara led the very uprising Kranx had hoped to avoid. The warlord died in disgrace. A fool summons disaster by fearing it.

  Had Kranx simply declared Ki’Var unworthy, or challenged him in honorable combat, he might have continued to rule for many turns. Indeed, Kranx was Ki’Var’s commander in battle. If he ordered Ki’Var to commit Mauk-to’Vor, Ki’Var would have done so without hesitation.

  But by refusing to show his face, by not looking his foe in the eye—by acting in darkness and forswearing the light of righteous action—Kranx sealed his fate. Where the assassin relies on subterfuge and dishonest stealth, the warrior’s greatest weapon is a just cause that denies secrecy. There is no honor in hiding from your deeds.

  If you do not own your intent, you will never find glory. However, if you face your foes, you know who they are and what led them to be your foe. Sometimes simply the act of facing your enemy can reveal that it is not your enemy you face.

  MARTA AND THE SUITOR

  One of the members of the Ketha royal family defeated by Ki’Var was the Lady Marta. When she was a youth, she was promised to be mated to General Yakan, a blood brother to Marta’s father, the Great Kamlaq. But Kamlaq discovered that Marta had fallen in love with another, though Marta would not reveal the name of her illicit lover. Kamlaq assumed it to be Yakan’s aide, Lieutenant Mavat.

  Kamlaq confronted Mavat on the fields of his estate and accused him of dishonoring him with his actions. But Mavat had no idea what Kamlaq was talking about. When Kamlaq confronted Mavat, he saw only confusion in the young warrior’s eyes. Kamlaq ordered Mavat bound by law until he could determine the truth of the matter. Eventually, Marta revealed her lover, a man who was not Mavat. The suitor committed Mauk-to’Vor to avoid disgrace. Marta was mated with Yakan, and they soon came to rule Ketha.

  Had Kamlaq not challenged Mavat himself, had he struck without showing his face as Kranx did, he might well have ended the same way as Kranx. Instead, he confronted Mavat directly and avoided giving either himself or Mavat a dishonorable death.

  When Yakan and Marta became the rulers of Ketha, Mavat served as their Chief Warrior. Theirs was a prosperous and honorable reign, and Mavat led their troops to many great victories, and only the one, final defeat at Ki’Var’s hands.

  Kamlaq’s actions led to honor. Marta was not forced to go back on her childhood vow to mate with Yakan, and she and he became great rulers. Mavat was not dishonorably killed for another’s indiscretion, and instead became Ketha’s mightiest warrior. Even Marta’s suitor was able to die with honor, through the act of Mauk-to’Vor.

  If you do not show your face, then your fight has no meaning. If there is no meaning to it, you cannot take possession of your battle. If you do not take possession of your battle, then your battle is worthless. If your battle is worthless, what worth have you?

  K’RATAK’S COMMENTARY

  It is disheartening to look back at Klingon history and see that it is truly littered with cowards who have killed without showing their faces. Kranx is a legendary example, of course, but it hardly ends with him. Indeed, many of the most vilified names in history are of those associated with this hideous crime: Qorvak, L’Pragh, Vilik, Krit, Chang, Duras, and others it causes pain even to mention.

  The very first Dahar Master was Biroq, who was given the honor by the Emperor Kaldon. Biroq led the conquest of the Samnatti of Ty’Gokor, the first world outside our home system to be brought under the flag of the Klingon Empire. Biroq’s martial triumphs were many, including his single-handed defeat of the guards who defended the Samnatti oligarchs. After planting the Klingon flag on Ty’Gokor and declaring the Samnatti to be jeghpu’wI’, Emperor Kaldon announced that Biroq was a hero of the Empire. He said there was no rank that could adequately describe his place within the military, so the emperor created a new one, intending it to be unique, a title for Biroq alone. The emperor dubbed him a Dahar Master, an achiever of legendary status.

  Biroq’s chief aide was Qorvak. Many of the tales written about Biroq do not even mention Qorvak until the end of the story, when he commits the deed by which his name was unutterably besmirched. One night, while Biroq slept, Qorvak crept into the Dahar Master’s bedchamber and slew him.

  Scholars and clerics have recently discovered records showing just how much of Biroq’s success was the result of campaigns actually planned by Q
orvak. (The wam serpent, a ramjep bird in disguise!) This has done a great deal to explain the resentment that drove him to his despicable act. Many of the records—unearthed during excavations of sites on Ty’Gokor damaged by orbital bombardment from the Borg during their invasion of the Alpha Quadrant—indicated that Biroq and Qorvak worked as equals. Biroq was the more charismatic of the two, so he gave the orders and sang the songs and made the speeches that would rouse the troops to battle. Qorvak was the intellect, the tactician who formulated strategy. Because Biroq’s actions were more public, he received the majority of the credit.

  But it matters not, because—even with these new revelations—Qorvak has been reviled throughout our history as the slime devil who slew the first Dahar Master in his sleep. Whether he was the mind behind Biroq’s campaigns, whether he was robbed of his due credit for the conquest of Ty’Gokor, is of no import. He killed without showing his face. Had he challenged Biroq for supremacy of their forces, had he challenged Emperor Kaldon for dishonoring him by giving Biroq the glory for work they had performed together, he would be remembered as a warrior who died in honorable combat. Instead, the name Qorvak is all but synonymous with coward among our people. In thrall to his rage or his vanity—or some other demon driving him—he squandered a shining jewel. He cast off the thing of most value to him, the good name that is the proper vessel for honor.

  Qorvak was unable to learn the lesson of this precept, but others were more fortunate. When we first encountered the Romulan Empire, war was immediate. Our two nations clashed over the Narendra system, and while we have been allied with the Romulans from time to time, they have been our enemies far more often. General Mav led the first campaign against the Romulans in orbit around Narendra VI.

  One of his fleet captains, Commander L’Pragh, believed Mav a fool, engaging the Romulans as he did. No other foe the Empire had yet faced was as mighty as the Romulans, and L’Pragh believed they would be better cultivated as allies. General Mav condemned L’Pragh’s contention. “We are Klingons,” the general famously said, “and our destiny is conquest. Aliens’ sole purpose is to serve as the obstacles that render our victories meaningful.”

  Realizing that he would never have the support of the other warriors if he challenged Mav directly, L’Pragh acted instead as Qorvak did, stabbing Mav while he slept. Unlike Qorvak, though, he was not caught in the act, and investigators were never able to determine who had killed the general. L’Pragh took over command of the fleet and attempted to negotiate a settlement with the Romulans. But the Romulan commander sabotaged the negotiations, setting off an explosive in the conference chamber where they were to meet. L’Pragh realized the error of his ways and led an attack on the Romulan fleet. The resultant victory was our first against the Romulans, and L’Pragh was hailed as a hero of the Empire.

  He did not maintain that distinction for long, however, for the guilt of his cowardly actions in killing General Mav without showing his face caught up to him, and was compounded by the knowledge that Mav had been right and he wrong. (A pale honor still clung to L’Pragh, like a flickering flame to a wick. It was this stunted nobility his guilt attacked, and here his fortress was breached. Like rust eating away at a weak point in iron, L’Pragh’s guilt ate away at his resolve.) After the defeat of the Romulans, L’Pragh was found in his cabin, having committed Mauk-to’Vor, beside a letter wherein he confessed to his actions. Emperor Budlesh was forced to condemn L’Pragh only a few days after honoring him. L’Pragh’s arrogance in refusing to believe that his commanding officer was correct led to dishonorable actions and a tainted, battered victory. But because he learned this lesson, albeit too late for Mav, he was able to salvage his honor and that of his family by means of Mauk-to’Vor. He showed his face at the end, to his own waiting death, confronting his crime. It was this reckoning that restored to L’Pragh the honor he had discarded.

  Emperor Budlesh himself was the victim of a foe he never saw wield the weapon that killed him and the perpetrator of a similar violation as well. Many had tried to defeat Budlesh, who, in addition to being a great leader, was one of our finest warriors. When his throne was challenged by the forces of the outlaw Worna, Budlesh himself led a cadre of warriors to the ruins of Tong Vey, where Worna’s forces lay in wait.

  In those times, the emperor designated an heir to succeed him when he died. Only occasionally was that heir a blood relative, though the emperor always made R’uustai2 with his heir. Budlesh’s mate was the Lady Vilik, who had been grooming Kalfar—her son from a previous mate—to be heir. But Budlesh kept refusing to name an heir, and Vilik grew impatient. Finally, Vilik took it upon herself to begin slowly poisoning the emperor’s food, after which time Budlesh became ill. No healer in the Empire could determine what ailed Budlesh, and eventually he died. Only after his death was it revealed that Budlesh knew of his mate’s treachery and had already named his nephew, Yorq, to be his heir. Budlesh loved Vilik and would not go against her wishes in life. Instead, he condemned himself to a dishonorable demise. Klingons who die by poison are dishonored, but those Klingons who led an honorable life before their demise still have a place in Sto-Vo-Kor. Budlesh knew he was being poisoned, and yet chose not to stop it. His killer may not have shown her face directly, but he knew who it was and did nothing.

  But knowing, he also sowed the seeds for his murderer’s own death, for he informed Yorq of the truth regarding Vilik. Yorq begged Budlesh to condemn her, but he would not.

  Emperor Yorq’s first action upon ascending to the throne was to condemn both Vilik and Kalfar to death for treason against his uncle. The very justice that Budlesh could not exact himself, but which he knew his nephew would provide. Love veiled his judgment and blunted his hunger for honor, leaving both emperor and empress with dishonorable deaths that brought them to Gre’thor, where they can mourn their debasement together.

  Perhaps the most bizarre such assassination was that of Emperor Skolar. Skolar’s reign was one of decadence and corruption. The noble Houses of the Empire were more concerned with the acquisition of wealth than with the conquest of worlds. The Empire did not expand, the resources we had were exploited beyond prudence. The House of Kuzyk, for example, proceeded to buy up as much land as they could on Praxis and to create an industrial complex that mined Qo’noS’s moon. The industrial boom that followed led to great prosperity for the House of Kuzyk—and those to whom they sold the raw material—and eventually to Praxis’s destruction.

  During this dark time, wealth was kept within a few noble Houses. While industry increased, wages decreased sharply. Lowborn Klingons were forced to work for low wages in appalling conditions, while their employers grew wealthier.

  The Defense Force was not immune to the corruption. The lower ranks swelled, as conditions in the factories proved a powerful recruitment incentive. But among the officer class, promotions were given not on merit, but were distributed as recompense for bribes paid to the High Council.

  Out of that chaos rose a group of Klingons who called themselves vo’ruv’etlh.3 They wore masks and never identified themselves individually, but always simply called themselves vo’ruv’etlh. Disruptor technology had just been developed, and any vo’ruv’etlh in danger of capture would turn their disruptors on themselves at the highest setting, vaporizing their bodies instantly and leaving no evidence.

  (There are those who argue that the development of energy weapons was responsible for the decadence of Skolar’s regime, as combat became too simple, too easy, allowing unskilled fools to rise in the ranks, padding their list of battles won with victories achieved by the simple pushing of a button. Let Klingons heave blades and strike and thrust!)

  Over the course of an entire turn, vo’ruv’etlh killed those they viewed as dishonorable, ranging from ship captains to generals to members of the High Council. They became folk heroes among the people, especially among those who starved while the upper classes gorged themselves. The military and the High Council wished them stopped, however, and vast resources
were expended trying to find them. But with so many incompetents at the highest ranks of the Defense Force—Klingons who had been given what should be earned—it soon became clear that they would never be able to do so.

  While the vo’ruv’etlh proceeded from noble motives, their methods were flawed. One does not stop dishonorable behavior by behaving dishonorably. Fire cannot extinguish fire; it only goads fire to greater heights. The final act of the vo’ruv’etlh was an assault on the Great Hall, in which they killed the emperor and the entire High Council. They too perished when the Imperial Guard moved in to capture them. In the end, the entirety of vo’ruv’etlh was vaporized, reduced to atoms in the air of the Great Hall. Emperor Skolar was dead, as was his heir and all those who ruled under him on the High Council.

  As bad as Skolar’s reign was, it was as nothing compared to what happened next. With no emperor and no council, anarchy reigned as dozens of noble Houses, fleet captains, and generals vied for power. The chaos lasted three turns before Emperor Yorlak seized power. While Yorlak was able to regain some stability, it was a decade before the Empire was prosperous again.

  The mistake the vo’ruv’etlh made was in not showing their faces, in not claiming their cause openly. To this day, no one knows who they were, which Houses they belonged to—if, indeed, they belonged to any House—or why they chose their dishonorable path. Instead, they discarded honor and refused to show their faces, making them no different from Skolar’s corrupt minions. In the end, they wiped each other out, leading to one of the darkest times in our history.

  While the age of emperors has ended and the High Council has taken over rule of the Empire, the chancellors who lead the High Council have not been immune to cowardly attacks. Chancellor M’Rek faced tremendous turmoil as many factions on the High Council plotted against him, especially because the council was divided on the subject of where the Empire should stand on the Earth-Romulan War, as well as the disposition of the smooth-headed QuchHa’ (some were from noble Houses, and couldn’t simply be made second-class citizens of the Empire). By the time that war between humans and Romulans ended, the council was completely sundered, with M’Rek finding himself beset on all sides by a council that could agree on only one thing: they disagreed with M’Rek.