Subject:A Broadcast from House qItaQ

[ Whatever you are watching is suddenly interrupted by a wash of static. The image that resolves on the screen is poor, sound distorted thanks to poor compression. It's the cockpit of a small craft, awash in red light. A face comes into few, bearded and scarred. ]

"Brothers and sisters of the Klingon Empire. You know my face. You know my reputation. I call you brothers and sisters because I know that in spite of brenQa''s leadership, there are still those among you that have a use for your honor."

loS moves away from the vidscreen a little, allowing his hand to come into view, which holds in its palm a small medallion, fashioned after a fist clenching a bat'leth. "Once upon a time, in recent history, there was another man like brenQa'. A man who sought blood and glory and conquest by any means possible. A man who sold his allegiances to our enemies, who slew the weak and powerless and called it victory. But there were those of you that knew that victory without honor was hollow, that blood spilled without struggle is meaningless. There were those of you that stood up, raised your bat'leths into the air and cried, 'No more'! I called you Brothers then, and my Brothers, I call upon you now."

"There are those of you that remember the oaths you swore to the Brotherhood. Swore that a rule like Krotoc the Mad must end. Must never be allowed again! First it was the Cardassians. Then the Bajorans. And now, now brenQa' bargains with the Dominion. Have you forgotten, my brothers? Have you forgotten the Dominion's deception? What piece of the Empire will brenQa' allow them to carve out this time in exchange for his victory over the Federation?"

"No more. NO MORE! Remember your oaths, brothers! Remember your honor! The Brotherhood of Honor must rise again!"

[ The transmission ends abruptly as a tech somewhere manages to kill the pirated bandwidth. ]