The music was almost deafening as Bamet reported to the bridge.

“Captain!…Captain!” She walked up next to her uncles command chair and yelled in his ear “Uncle!!!”

Kerak, clicked a button on the armrest console that paused the Klingon Opera he was listening to.

“Is that, how announce your presence on the bridge!? Hollering and screaming? What were you taught on the Cruiser Krutag Lt. Bamet?” Recalling one of her performance evaluation notes from one of her few previous active assignments.

Bamet straightened, grunted and walked over to the front left of the command chair and came to attention. “Qa’pla Captain.”

Kerak growled, his sisters child was going to be a problem if he couldn’t set her straight some how, he knew it.

“Yes Lt?”

“The starboard injectors is running a little hot, engineer Vord reccomends we reduce speed to warp 7.5 until he can perform repairs” Bamet said.

“How long will the repairs take?”

“He says 2 hours Captain.”

“Very well, Navigator! Reduce speed to warp 7.5. Is that all Lt?” Kerak grumbled as he shifted in his chair as Plej brought him a steaming cup his favourite beverages, raktajino with a double shot of espresso. He had even brought a small portable field replicator to allow him to replicate the 2 different types of beans fresh daily. It was a leftover habit he had picked up during his service with Starfleet during the early 2370s.

“Uh…sir. Some of the crew are…having trouble sleeping because of the volume of the Operas sir.” Bamet said nervously knowing how much her uncle loved his Grethak and Dutrag albums.

“Hmmm, are they now?” Kerak said with sardonic grin. But in his mind he was giving the girl some credit. She was nervous to ask, but she was standing up for her crewmates nonetheless. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to kill her after all.

Kerak then clicked the button and turned the Opera back on, but after looking into Bamets eyes for a second, he lowered the volume from level 9/10, down to level 7/10. Low enough for any Klingon to sleep in his view.

“Dismissed Lt.”

“Cha’vey” his neice said before exiting the bridge.

“Children Plej…” Kerak said before taking the cup of RakSpresso from his Chief Steward.

“They have their moments Captain. What were you doing when you were her age?” His old friend asked.

“Much of the same Plej. Curse you, but you’re right. I was busy looking to prove myself and earn glory just like her…though around her age I did deploy with 5th Fleet under General Dra’angh against the Gorn. What a year that was, earned my first commendation there. Where were you at that age Plej?” The Captain asked.

“Cleaning the halls of the House Jutarg compound on Caligar…where you meet me sir.”

Kerak was a bit suprised, he had met the man in 2361 and he had accompanied him on campaigns ever since. But he would have been Bamets age around the mid 2340s “Plej. You mean to tell me that you were a servant at Castle Caligar for 15 years?”

“I served all throughout the House’s domains, but at Bamets age, and later when I met you, yes I worked as a servant in the Castle.”

“How many battles have we been through together?”

“Counting the Dominion War…probably 30 or more.” His servant said.

“And you’ve never been offered or granted any rank or title. Never enlisted, never decorated?” Kerak asked.

“Aside from the ceremonial dagger your brother in law gave me a decade ago for my long service, no. As for enlisting or being given rank or title, no, I am a humble man from a humble family of the Caligar Highlands. I’m honoured to serve house all the same.”

“Hmmm. Then it should wait no longer my friend. From this day forward Plej, you are no longer just a humble servant from the Highlands. I’ve met your family, I know their loyalty, and we’ve fought too many battles together for me to see our younger warriors ordering you about in the mess hall and when they need something cleaned. You are now bu'(Sgt) Plej, and I will petition my brother in law to accept you and your family into our House. You will no longer be vassals, or citizens of our realm, you will be Plej, of the House Jutarg.”

“You do me far too much honour my captain. I am not trained as a warrior, I cannot lead men in combat.”

“Is your hearing failing Plej? Did you not hear what I said. I am promoting you for what you have done, and what you are doing, not because I need you to do anything different. You will remain as the ships Chief Steward. The only difference now is instead of ordering you about the Bekk’s can ask you for permission.” Kerak grinned.

“Yes Captain. Thank you sir.” Plej said and then dismissed himself after a wave of Keraks hand.

“Sir. We are recieving orders from Starfleet, TF72 is requesting we alter course and head to a new set of coordinates to begin our exchange with them.” The Weapons officer, who also doubled as the comms officer as well when they weren’t in combat, announced.

“Very well Ensign Klig, Bekk Brork alter course to the new rendevous point.” He sighed slightly as he watched his dopey second cousin fumble fucked his way through entering the commands into the nav console.