In The Beginning...

In November there will be a Science Fiction/Fantasy convention in Halifax.  Its name is Hal-Con. A part of the agenda is the SonchIy Squadron 15 Year Reunion.  I am going to be in attendance for the reunion, as well as the KAG Kanada Grand Assembly.  J.G. Hertzler has been invited to be one of the Guest Stars at this year's convention because of our involvement with Hal-Con. 

While involved with KAG Kanada I have had some wonderful experiences; made strong and lasting friendships; and I met my late wife, Sue.  I don't know how many times over the years I have been chided to "Get A Life".  I have one and I am very happy with the one I have, thank you. 

I have been told many times that it is all about the story.  I am not a writer.  I have met a few.   My 'literary' background is Military.  Facts - Figures- no Emotion.  My hope is that what follows will not be too dry.  I just hope that I can tell my story with the wonder and fun that has been my journey in Fandom.
In 1995, I was involved in the preparation and planning for another Sci-Fi/Fantasy convention called MarFest.  At the same time I was also getting involved in a Star Trek Costume Club, The Klingon Assault Group or KAG Kanada.  MarFest was also my very first Con and it was the first appearance of the branch or ship I had founded, the Imperial Klingon Vessel (IKV) SonchIy.

My involvement began because my marriage was failing.  At the time I was in the Canadian Military.  I was looking for an excuse, any excuse, to get out of the house. There were many reasons, and they went back a number of years.  Failing; no more accurately, it was imploding.  I had started to investigate and initiate divorce proceedings.  The choice to get out of the house, that I had was the Mess, or the Military bar.  

I chose not to go to the Mess because that would probably 'mess' me up even more.  A conclusion that was arrived at through years of observation.  Too many of my friends and co-workers had compounded their problems at the Mess. 

I decided  to go to movies.  At the 1994 screening of Star Trek Generations in Halifax, people dressed as "Original Series" Klingon's were in attendance, most of them were at an information table in the lobby handing out paper, while others walked among those who had entered the lobby of the theatre.  I was looking, more accurately looking down, at them.  My level of curiosity was along the lines of, "who would do that?".  I was aware enough that I didn't want any of them to get too close, and they were certainly not going to get close enough to give me any of their paper.

Before my pilgrimage to the Concession area, I decided to visit the theatre's 'comfort' station.  My mother  would have told you that, I want to powder my nose; my father would tell you he was going to drain his potatoes.  In any event, I was about to get comfortable...or so I thought.

While I was hosing down the urinal, I noticed the guy at the next stall.  He was dressed as a Klingon.  At least he wasn't holding any paper in his hands. 

Before I could stop myself, I blurted, "nice costume", as he stepped away from the porcelain.  I watched in horror as his hand went behind his back.  Was he reaching for a Klingon knife; a disruptor???  Worse, it was paper!  An application to join KAG Kanada.  He growled something very guttural that also involved his ejecting of a fair amount of spittle, and proudly told me that he had just spoken in Klingon.  My reaction was simply - "That's nice". 

However, the seed had been planted.  I was about to be:   turned, assimilated, coerced, or sent in a direction that would change my life (dramatic pause) forever.

I would stare at that application for about six months.  It was perched on my dresser and I would look at the application and tell myself that I did not want to be involved with pimply-faced teenagers telling forty year old Star Trek jokes.  I was too mature and much too responsible for that.  In six months, it didn't occur to me that I could simply throw it out.

The situation in my home won out and I attended my very first Klingon meeting of the IKV Praksis with the completed KAG Kanada application.  It was far from the spit-and-polish that I was accustomed to.  There were no aggressive Klingons in evidence.  One guy sat in a corner, looking more like a cross between a beatnik and Rasputin; shoulder length black hair full black beard, a laptop and copies of Shakesphere and Mark Okrand's Klingon Dictionary.  When I questioned him later, he told me that he was translating Hamlet into Klingon.  He could not find it anywhere in print or online, so he decided to translate it himself. 

The Ship's Captain was Henry.  (Not his real name.)  He welcomed me and made introductions.  I learned Rasputin's name is Rick Zhukow, and to this day I do believe they are related.  When it would come time to 'launch' the IKV SonchIy, Rick would be the First Mate, Second In Command and Cabin Boy.

During most of 1995, I went to meetings, talked about costuming and make up.  The Klingon costume was intimidating.  I had enough trouble sewing a button, let alone trying to make sense of a pattern.  Henry suggested that I get my wife involved in helping me sew a costume. 

I had the good fortune to meet a costumer who worked for one of the drama departments at one of the universities in Halifax.  He was intrigued with the idea of making a Klingon Uniform.  I contracted with him to make the Battle Dress and Command Cloak. 

As it turned out, Henry and I did not get along that well.  Henry's idea of being a leader was, "I am the boss and you are not".  One of life's little pleasures was to verbally spar with Henry and use my wit to pop his bombastic balloon.   It wasn't long before I had my walking papers, and was told to start a ship on the other side of the Halifax Harbour, in Dartmouth, the IKV SonchIy.