To:*Klingon-Empire-Chronicles and *Galactic-Enquirer
Subject:The Klingon Empire Declares War!

The burning red seal of the Klingon Empire slashes across the screen, interrupting your favorite low-grade drama program. It lingers there for several heartbeats, before finally fading into the brooding, red-bathed chamber of the High Council in the vaS'a' of Qo'noS, the Klingon homeworld. The camera settles on a silhouette, tall and rigid, carved sharp and angular; a throne, the literal seat of power of the Empire. It's occupant sits immersed in shadow, though the faint gleam of keen eyes can be seen in the weak crimson glow of the grand hall.

A stabbing light strikes down from above, illuming the occupant of this throne. He stares into the camera, unblinking despite the sudden harshness of the spotlight casting his noble ridged into stark relief. Many by now know his face: he is Lor'mogh, voice of the Empire and Chancellor of the High Council. His very appearance guarantees that the news he is about to give is very grave indeed.

"Leaders of the Federation," he says, his voice booming through the Council chamber, deep and rich, gravelly from the weight of years yet no less commanding, "The system of Tyrellia has been liberated from the opression of your government's tyranny."

He rises regally from the throat, stepping down from the dais upon which it is erected, the camera zooming backward with the movement to reveal the other faces of the High Council. "The Empire has sat by, allowing you to throw your might around uncontested in areas of space to which you have no right. Your leaders have mocked us. Your leaders have promised aid when were were in need, and delivered none. Your people commit acts of crime against us, and you deny us justice without first submitting to /your/ will. And you plant /spies/ within our ranks to gather data on our strength while same at the time preaching to us of peace. No more. We will tolerate no more." He looks into the camera, his lip curling into a hateful sneer, his eyes burning with the intensity of a sun.

"As of this day... the Klingon Empire is once again at war with the Federation." Shouts of support and bellows of bloodlust rise up from the High Council members, threatening to drown out the Chancellor. But this will not happen, for he speaks again, heard even above the roar of the warriors.

"Tyrellia and the expanse of space surrounding it is now a protectorate of the Klingon Empire, with all of the privileges and support that citizenship of the Empire entails. All Starfleet personnel are hereby ordered to evacuate the planet or face certain death. No Starfleet vessels will pass beyond the the 170+0 meridian or they shall be destroyed."

The camera zooms in on Lor'mogh's rugged features as he resumes his seat. "Mark my words, Federation-- if you attempt to retake this planet, every man, woman and child on this world will pay the price for your arrogance."

The transmission ends, and fades to black.