Unofficial Origin of the K't'inga

In 2269 as figured on Earth, the great Klingon shipwright N'hoj of the house of Kohn was approached by a famous young general.  His name has been lost to history, and that should be your first hint as to how things would turn out.  The General felt that the venerable Klingon Battlecruiser was getting old and should be replaced within the Klingon imperial navy by a new design.  N'hoj accepted the assignment.




Two years later the general returned to N'Hoj's shipyard orbiting Qo'nos.  When shown the new battle cruiser, the general was unimpressed.

"What's this?  I ordered a new ship to replace the old!.  You have not given me a new ship, you have given me k't'inga!" In the regional dialect of the young generals home, k't'inga was a derisive term for "new paint" with the implication that appearances have been maintained at the neglect of substance.

N'hoj regarded him.  "How did you become a general when you look but you do not see?"

"Listen old fool.  I am a general because I win battles, and I win them even in old ships like this because I am fighting old ships like this!  The damned Federation and the thrice damned Romulans build new ships!  I need new ships to hunt them!"

"This is what I have given you."

"You have given me nothing, and that's what I am giving you.  Sell your k't'inga to the Ferengi."

Two days after leaving the Shipwrights office, the general was preparing to leave on a patrol of the border worlds.  When he was hailed by an approaching vessel.   Soon N'Hoj's face filled his viewscreen.

"Aah, general, I'm glad I caught you before you departed.  I have come with good news and  bad news"

The general checked his instruments and was mildly surprised by what he saw.  "I see you have brought your k't'inga." He laughed then. "You have even stenciled the word on her flank!  Have you come to offer her at bargain?"

N'hoj smiled.  "On the contrary, the price has doubled".

"Bah!  What's the good news?

It was N'Hoj's turn to laugh.  "That WAS the good news!  The bad news, you see, is that you are no longer a customer.  I fear that instead, you have become the advertising.  Your name carries weight, and I have come for your endorsement."

Recognizing the threat too late, the young general was all seriousness.  "We are three ships to your one!"

"Even so..."

Before a week had passed there was a line of commanders waiting, as patiently as Klingons can, outside the office of the shipwright.  Each had the same request.

"K't'inga"