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CH01: S [D01|1400] Klingon Guests

[Hi'Jak |  Deck 28|  Below Decks Lounge ]Attn: @Auctor Lucan @stardust @GroundPetrel @steelphoenix

A little over an hour ago Jack had been in his quarters to rest, when he had been grabbed by a spare security brought the 20 or so feet back to Sickbay which was slowly becoming his home away from home, had been told that the Klingon's were coming aboard including the one who had killed him, Chancellor Martok after a minute or so of unbridled panic V-Nine had quickly reconstructed Jack's face, to make him unrecognizably human.

He still had all the organs and blood of a klingon, so if his stomach were ripped open again it would be clear who he was (why did they always have to phrase it like that? His artificial arm had also been confiscated along with his eye. As his cybernetic implants could make him immediately recognizable. Instead a glass eye was handed to him, one that replicated a common brown color and a colored contact hid his other eye. Any scaring was removed though he still needed to walk with his cane. His arm was replaced with a less noticeable fake.

Thus Jack was now a human the only thing that remained was his skin tone. He was far too sober for this BS today. At the first aviable line of action he had escaped sickbay after all the procedures had been done, and blended into the crowd vanishing from sight as he walked around the civilian areas of the ship he arrived in Below Decks, He was now using a cane and his non dominant remaining hand, as the other one didn't exist anymore.

And as soon as he walked into the lounge he realized he had made a mistake, there were at least 20 klingons in the bar. His good eye blinked as he walked into the room limping and immediately drawing attention, because how many civilians had to use a cane to walk in today's and age. Such a thing could only be caused by deeply traumatic injuries. Even so he limped his way to the bar. Which had several Klingons lingering around it.

Welp, if he was going to die, he was going to die with something to drink.


OOC: This is the thread for the mission objective klingon guests, remember that this is supposed to be a comedic storyline. So lets try and keep things light and fun! I messaged Auctor, since he showed some interest in NPCing an encounter with the klingons drinking with Jack, if you want, otherwise we can all just share the klingons (including the high chancellor as npcs) I also added Steelphenix because Deacon's bar being over run by klingons seems like something you might enjoy!

Re: CH01: S [D01|1400] Klingon guests

Reply #1 –
Lt. JG Dantius Thi Anh-Le | Deck 28 | Below Decks Lounge Attn: @Auctor Lucan @stardust @steelphoenix @Masorin

Anh-Le grumbled to herself as she sipped her iced coffee, bags under her eyes from lack of sleep.  The news of the attack on Earth had not been conducive to easy rest, and Anh-Le had spent most of the previous night poring over what meager intelligence the crew had collected on the parasites.  Now she was sitting on a couch by one of the holosuites, trying again to figure out a good angle of attack. 

She would be fine...if only these damn Klingons would stop being so loud. 

"Lieutenant," growled a deep Klingon voice.  Anh-Le looked up; the man was vaguely familiar, and held a bottle of bloodwine. 

"If you want entertainment, there's a holosuite three meters  away, I don't have time for you lot." 

"Actually, I owe you a bottle."  He plunked the bloodwine on the table.  "You won it off of me?" 

"Oh!  Gorak, right?  ghoraq sogh?" 

"The same," the Klingon replied with a grin.  "Sorry to hear about your capital.  A dishonorable attack by an honorless foe." 

"We'll figure this out," Anh-Le growled, grimacing at the thought.  "We'll figure out who exactly these bastards are and stop them.  Count on that." 

"A noble cause," the Klingon rumbled.  Anh-Le grunted, rubbing her eyes with her left hand while squinting at the PADD held in her right.  "I'll let you be.  But thank you for the amusing tale, Lieutenant." 

"Thanks for the bloodwine," Anh-Le replied, looking up long enough to send the man a polite grin.  As the Klingon left, she saw a Human man with one arm and an eyepatch walk in with the assistance of a cane.  Damn.  Couldn't he get some prosthetics?  Oh, well, it wasn't her place to pry, he wasn't a person of interest at the moment.  She turned back to her PADD, sipping her iced coffee. 

A heavy hand clapped on Anh-Le's shoulder, accompanied by a profound stench of alcohol.  <Hey there, little lady,> growled someone in tlhIngan Hol.  <How much are you for the hour?> 

<Take back your hand or I'll cut your honor and courage off and stuff them down your throat,> Anh-Le snapped in the same language.  Then, she added, "targ puqlod."

The Klingon reared back as if slapped as several of his drinking companions roared with laughter.  <You dare to question the honor of Krotan, son of Konjah?  Miserable ylintagh!>

Great.  Just great.  <I question not your honor, but your intelligence.  Do I look like I'm a prostitute?> 

Krotan, son of somebody who Anh-Le was sure was very important on his family estates, ground his teeth as his drinking partners laughed at his humiliation.  <Frigid bitch,> the Klingon growled. 

She should have let it go.  She really should have.  But Anh-Le was running on 3 hours of sleep, four stimulant pills that were reacting badly with her hormone-suppressant meds, and sweet iced coffee with two shots of espresso dumped in for an added kick, plus she'd been dealing with drunk Klingons for far too long now.  <Better a frigid bitch than a motherless baqtag with a dick like a larval Ferengi gree-worm,> she snapped, which drew an incoherent sputter from Krotan as his companions roared with glee. 

<How DARE you insult my manhood!>  the Klingon roared, and grabbed Anh-Le by the shoulder to haul her to her feet. 

Anh-Le punched him in the nose. 

Krotan reeled back, roaring with pain, and regained his footing as Anh-Le stood, moving the bottle of bloodwine and her PADD to the back of the couch behind a pillow, only for the Klingon to charge with a howl of rage.  Anh-Le ducked low and lunged, her shoulder catching the man in the midsection, and they went staggering back to crash into a table, sending Klingons stumbling back with shouts of surprise and mugs of bloodwine flying everywhere. 

Anh-Le looked up, Krotan wheezing under her as he tried to catch his breath, and saw several Klingons glaring at the two, dripping with spilled bloodwine. 

"...oh, shit." 
OOC: Using <> to indicate tlhIngan Hol dialogue. 

Hope it's OK to get started with a brawl! 
Really enjoying writing a halfway stable character for once...

Re: CH01: S [D01|1400] Klingon guests

Reply #2 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Flag Bridge -> Below Decks Lounge | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Masorin , @GroundPetrel , @Auctor Lucan (the angry Klingon) , @steelphoenix
[Show/Hide]


This day was shaping up to be a long one. But that was quite alright, Samantha enjoyed being busy, it kept her from forming any deeper thoughts. The single worst moments in her life happened when she let herself be alone with her inner daemons. So, a daily routine would usually start with the first flutter of long lashes in the morning and end with falling asleep to some sort of entertainment at night. Be it a book, a drink or a holo-movie in her quarters. After finishing up the preliminary meeting with Lt. Cmdr. Tiran over the question how to get Savi technology, that the captain had sat them on, the leggy blonde decided to catch up on some department logs.

It was just at the end of the standard shift and since the diplomatic detachment was still small, there was no one left on the former flag bridge. It didn’t really matter to Samantha; she could focus under most circumstances short of having someone poke her with a sharp stick constantly. Or nagging – which caused the same painful sensation. Through the diplomatic protocol a slew of information was already available on their Klingon visitors. So far everything seemed to have run smoothly as can be expected when dealing with the more abrasive inhabitants of the quadrant. At the very least she had no security notification on her file yet. Also, the routine tracking worked flawlessly, the majority of the Klingons seemingly gathered at the ‘local’ watering hole. Initiating a couple of routine cross-references, the officer soon stumbled over a little curiosity. There was a Klingon civilian on board with some redacted sections in his data string.

“Thea, access restricted sections of the personnel file for one civilian passenger named Hi’Jak. Authorization Rutherford: Sierra, 1-9-9-1, Bravo.” The AI computer acknowledged instantly and the diplomat soon had access to every detail there was available about this man. It didn’t take her long to raise a security notification in her own mind. It seemed like they had a pretty precarious situation on their hand. Turning the console off Samantha looked up into the center of the room, elbows resting on her desk.

“Thea, locate civilian: Hi’Jak.” She prompted, pursing her lips in anticipation. She’d go and have a talk with the man, inform him of the visitors - if he didn’t already know, tie him up on his bed … that sort of thing. “Civilian: Hi’Jak is at the Below Decks Lounge.” Samantha held her breath for a moment, before letting the air gush out through plump lips with an audible sigh. Why did the worst things that could happen always have to actually happen. Getting up from her chair the blonde circled around to the exit of the flag bridge, tapping her combadge as she exited. “Security, standby positions on Deck 28 until further notice.”

Making her way towards the bottom of the ship – at this point – Samantha could honestly say she’d never been down this far before. Stepping out of the turbolift she had to only round one corner to witness a couple of patrons hastily fleeing the premises and the sound of shattering glass through the closing doors behind them. Narrowing her eyes, the diplomat stopped in her tracks for just a moment before proceeding ahead. She wouldn’t call security out of standby until absolutely necessary, but at the same time she had absolutely no intent on waiting for them to drop whatever donut, or body part, they were holding to get to deck 28 in case she DID need them. Hence putting them on standby.

Moving right into the motion sensor’s field of view the officer prompted the double doors into the lounge to open. A wave of chaos and turmoil washed over her as she stepped inside. Brows furrowed she watched the scene unfold with both confusion and agitation. But it was ultimately the view of a patron beating a Klingon with a cactus that seemed to defuse the situation a little bit. So firstly, she would be able to focus on her initial task. She didn’t see a Klingon civilian clothing right away. Moving up to the bar in a stride she leaned against it casually, as if half of the room wasn’t engaged in fisticuffs and hairpulling. “Hey, Garcon.” She beckoned the proprietor in a joking manner, having met him previously, so he might’ve known she could have a rude sense of humor to her human side.

“Seen Hi’Jak by any chance? He’s not Hi-Jacking it off in one of your holo-suites … I hope.” she squirmed slightly, letting her blue eyes trail past the remaining patrons that watched the brawl developing like a forest fire.

Re: CH01: S [D01|1400] Klingon guests

Reply #3 –
[ Deacon | Below Decks Lounge | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Masorin  @GroundPetrel  @Auctor Lucan  @stardust

Deacon emerged from the galley with more hope than he suspected this night might well merit.  Gowron had supposedly beamed on board with a retinue of forces and he took this as an opportunity to properly greet and thank the Klingon forces for their hospitality.  While he, himself, had not been so much a recipient of their better graces, he knew the ship and the crew had benefited greatly from this downtime and it was something he meant to repay in kind.

He had perfected his fusion of Klingon and Ferengi cuisine -- gree-worm and gagh, meant to serve as a challenging and satisfying meal for their Klingon guests, after all, who could pass up a meal where the main entree was just as intent on biting back?

The confrontation that met his ears as he emerged was less than ideal but, he supposed, not unexpected.  Unless the Klingon's were drunk beyond consciousness and exhausted from battle, there was doubtless enough underlying agitation to great against someone's nerves and the crew had recently received news of the Federation homeworld that would expose many nerves this night.

But, this was his establishment, and it fell to him to maintain order, even in the face of their rowdy guests.  Squaring his shoulders, a large plate of his new culinary experiment held in one hand, he prepared to intervene with the current conflict.

"Hey Garcon." 

He paused, a frown tugging at the corner of his mouth.  Lt. Cmdr Rutherford, his glasses reminded him, having met her the day before.  "My name is Deacon," he reminded her in a tone that was perhaps a touch stronger than the moment required, but this was not the first time members of the crew had been so flippant with his name.  He wasn't about to comment as to how even under-aged males had identities in Kzinti society and would react just as poorly to someone calling them 'boy' -- he'd been addressed by the term sufficient times to necessitate him researching some of the more archaic Terran languages.

"Seen Hi'Jak by any chance? He's not Hi-Jacking it off in one of your holo-suites ... I hope."

Deacon's lips tightened slightly.  "I do not believe he would be capable of disconnecting it from the ship at large," he commented, clearly missing the clever entendre the blonde had set before him.  "And if he is here, I would suggest removing him under the circumstance."  He remembered Hi'Jak from their travails with the Savi.  He wasn't certain he necessarily remembered him fondly, but sufficient to know that his presence could otherwise complicate things with the Klingons.

Re: CH01: S [D01|1400] Klingon guests

Reply #4 –
[Hi'Jak |  Deck 28|  Below Decks Lounge ]Attn: @Auctor Lucan @stardust @GroundPetrel @steelphoenix

To be a ghost, a literal fly on the wall, it was kinda fun, walking up to the bar he hadn't been recognized, he hadn't even been questioned, a few of the Klingons had mocked him for asking for a earth drink, and slapped a cup of bloodwine down in front of the human demanding he try something with better taste than the rum and coke he was originally planning to drink, and he grabbed the cup, leaning against the bench he slammed the cup against the cup of a Klingon warriors in cheers and downed the glass of warm thick bloodwine like he was back in the first academy he slammed down the cup and shivered feeling a mix of warmth, and pain as he did. "Kanpai!" the Klingons looked at him confused. "It's an old earth language, it means good drink, good fortune, cheers and all."

"Your injured." One of the warriors said looking at the cane that Jack had used to walk. "What caused the wound you suffer?"

"A klingon's bat'leth." He said honestly. "The entire ship was attacked, boarded and all. Don't really remember who stabbed me... Wouldn't have been one of you would it!" He joked earning him a few slaps on the back for being the brave dumb human. A fight broke out and Jack watched as an attractive greenskinned woman started to beat the heck out of a warrior who crossed her. Jack grabbed another glass of Bloodwine as the warrior was knocked down into a table the other onlookers raised their glasses as did he. "I guess it's a party this time!"

He blinked for a moment when he heard someone mention a name that was not good, he turned towards the bar tender and a woman, a very attractive woman, he didn't  recognize asking for him by name. Jack excused himself and grabbed another glass of bloodwine and his old drink the rum and coke he hadn't touched.

"Gentlemen I see an old friend." walking up between the server Deacon whom he recognized from the Savi adventure he mostly wanted to forget, the man's wedding had been a highlight in the darkness of that day. He quickly tossed his arms around the woman's shoulders resting between them, and leaning on her since he had no balance due to his injuries. "Deacon my friend, how is the wife!?" He announced so loud that the entire room would hear, his breath carried the smell of blood wine, as he put a cup into the woman's hand.

His next words were much more quiet for only the two too hear. "That name will cause more problems then it's worth, call me Kyle. got a new face and everything If I run off now it will look weird, besides... I'm having fun." He smiled a rather broad grin for a moment.

Re: CH01: S [D01|1400] Klingon guests

Reply #5 –
Lt. JG Dantius Thi Anh-Le | Deck 28 | Below Decks Lounge Attn: @Auctor Lucan @stardust  @steelphoenix  @Masorin

Anh-Le hit a table with a huff of escaping air, her uniform rapidly soaking through with spilled bloodwine.  She rolled sideways, letting the Klingon who'd headbutted her charge right into the same piece of furniture and collapse into the spot she'd just vacated, and collapsed to the deck. 

Ow.  Fucking ridge-faced bastard...  The Orion stood, wiping a trace of blood from a thin cut on her forehead, and ducked back with a yelp as another Klingon was thrown bodily past her with a scream to crash into a table of junior crewmen.  Ouch.

<How dare you spill bloodwine on me!> a nearly two-meter Klingon woman with a forehead more corrugated than a cheese grater snarled in tlhIngan Hol, stalking towards Anh-Le.  "quvHa' uryan'ngan!" 

"Say that to my face, you cowardly verengan Ha'dIblaH!" Anh-Le shouted back.  The Klingon roared and charged, one meaty arm catching Anh-Le as she tried to dodge, and the two crashed out of the scrum and into the bar, a mere six inches from a gorgeous blonde humanoid who seemed to be talking to the bartender and the man with the eyepatch.  "Fuck," Anh-Le wheezed, then grabbed the blonde's drink out of sheer convenience, smashing the mug over the Klingon woman's head.  The Klingon stumbled back, shaking her head, as Anh-Le pulled herself up on the bar. 

"Sorry about that, sir," she told the blonde, then turned to intercept the Klingon woman as she charged.  "I'll get you one later to apologize!" 

"Heghlu'meH QaQ jajvam!" the Klingon roared as she met the Orion halfway, the two stumbling sideways and bouncing off of a moving scrum as they grappled. 

"What?  What the fuck's the point of dying today?" Anh-Le asked in confusion, then kicked the taller woman in the knee.  The Klingon reared back with a howl of pain, but intercepted the Orion's sucker-punch to the gut with a twisting block.  Damn, she's good!  Anh-Le needed to stop this fight--but that meant she needed a bit of breathing room, which the Klingon woman wasn't offering. 
Really enjoying writing a halfway stable character for once...

Re: CH01: S [D01|1400] Klingon guests

Reply #6 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Below Decks Lounge | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Masorin , @GroundPetrel , @Auctor Lucan (the angry Klingon) , @steelphoenix
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In the grander scheme of nicknames Samantha thought that ‘garcon’ was a rather nice one. In Paris – even in this day and age – most people, at a restaurant or café, demanded the ‘garcon’ to place an order, and the term was held in high esteem. Why she thought this would work at ‘Below Decks’ – admittedly not the Senior Officer’s lounge - eluded her for the moment and was replaced with the regret of having gone there, not only physically. Of course she knew the his name, they had met before when she introduced herself on the flag bridge to the whole of the diplomatic detachment and those she wished affiliated with it to an extent. She hadn’t used this particular vernacular because she couldn’t remember Deacon’s name. Though she did draw a blank on his original Kzinit moniker. Sue her.

Irking a brow at his reply, on the cleverly phrased pun, the blonde wasn’t sure if he deliberately wasn’t indulging her as some sort of revenge for her misplaced nickname. Deacon concluded with a valid point. One that made the officer nod in gratifying agreement. “That’s the plan.” the blonde concluded, letting her blue eyes trail over the pride of Klingons. If it hadn’t been for Hi’Jak’s surgical alterations by the Savi he could’ve been every one of them … but now he could be every one of the other male humans in the lounge. It didn’t exactly make her work any less difficult. A man walked up to her with an eye-patch and a sly smile, ultimately settling way too close for comfort with his strong arm around her shoulder.

“Excuse you!” the diplomat contested, waving her index finger around in front of his face like a pesky gnat. “I am not his wife! And neither do I plan to be yours.” Trying to squirm her way out of the armlock the blonde found it to be virtually impossible. With his proximity and strength and the counter and the backrest of the bar chair she was virtually pinned against Mister Personality over here. A cup of blood wine landed unruly in front of her, stray splatters of red liquid hitting the back of her hand. “Ugh … shouldn’t you have a parrot with you or something?!” she offered as a pirate analogy. Undoubtedly one of the many things she said that would merely reciprocate a facepalm if anything.

The man’s explanation did very little to clearing up why he was holding her like a stuffed Panda he’d won at a carnival. “Who the hell is Kyle?!” Samantha twitched incredulously, holding up the balls of her hands in a confused shrug. She was even so caught up that the brawl behind her went unnoticed for a pretty long time. Wasn’t this standard background noise at ‘Below Decks’?! Surely someone was always fighting due to intoxication or someone looking funny at someone’s squeeze. An Orion woman crashing into the bar right next to her was the first sign that this was not exactly normal. The diplomat flinched and was suddenly extremely happy for the protective arm as she cozied into the sense of security supplied by ‘Kyle’ on the other side of her.

Blue eyes following the mug she hadn’t wanted was instantly overwhelmed by the sentiment of loss that you could only feel once something you didn’t cherish was ultimately gone. Now she really wanted some blood-wine. “What the hell?!” she huffed, hands pulled to her chest, almost vanishing into the crook of the man’s arm. Within a second the female Grinch was on the top of the bar only to jump into a Klingon woman that had come to retaliate. Blood-wine dripping down the ridges on her forehead. It looked delicious. Yet all of this was only ever so slightly surreal. The lovestruck male by her side, the Orion woman battling the Klingons, Deacon seemingly content with having his place trashed.

Re: CH01: S [D01|1400] Klingon guests

Reply #7 –
[ Deacon | Below Decks Lounge | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Masorin  @GroundPetrel  @Auctor Lucan  @stardust

When Rutherford seemed to agree with his recommendation, Deacon gave a slight nod, bordering somewhere between approval and thanks -- it was difficult to determine as it is likely an objective he would have seen to himself as he tolerated very little disruption within his domain.  The fact that so much of it was already unfolding before him at set his ear to twitch uncomfortably.

At the coincidental approach of their subject and his transparent efforts at cloaking his identity, Deacon gave a sigh, casting a sidewards glance at Rutherford as she seemed to mistake his greeting.  "I believe he means my actual wife, Ensign K'Ren," he replied as if one of two adults in a room of misbehaving children.  He lowered his gaze to the subject of their earlier inquiries, his tone dropping slightly to emphasize that he was not inclined to any mischief.  "I would have thought one public evisceration were sufficient, Kyle.  If you desire another, I will be happy to oblige you... on any other night.  As you can see, our Klingon hosts have come to bid us a good hunt and it is my responsibility to see to their needs."

Standing, his eyes gave a sideways dart indicating the adjacent holosuite.  "I believe you'll find sufficient celebrations in there."

That settled, he straightened himself with intent to intervene in some of the more rowdy eruptions taking place, only to find an Orion female travelling the breadth of the lounge in the midst of a fight with at least half a dozen Klingons.  In this instant, Rutherford and "Kyle" could see a distinct shift in Deacon's demeanor, his blue eyes flashing to a bright, predatory gold, a frown deeply creasing his face, a deep seated growl at the back of his throat.

"Commander," he fairly whispered, "You hold rank over the crew.  You will want to assert it."  He was clearly struggling with his inner instincts to simply put an end to this nonsense by deferring to those with more recognized authority.

With some effort, his eyes resumed their standard shade of blue and he placed the tray he had been holding at a nearby table where several Klingons stood, entertained by the riot unfolding before them.  "Gagh, fresh of course.  I've mixed in a few gree worms, no relation," he added, waving a dismissive hand towards the battle in progress, "for challenge.  Toothy little things like to bite back.  Even a good meal can be improved with an element of uncertainty.  And there is plenty of blood wine to numb the fingers when you're done and Rokeg blood pie for those who still hunger."

Re: CH01: S [D01|1400] Klingon guests

Reply #8 –
['Kyle' |  Deck 28|  Below Decks Lounge ]Attn: @Auctor Lucan @stardust @GroundPetrel @steelphoenix

Watching the brawl, clinging to the beautiful commander and still having his coke and rum in hand Jack could honestly say he felt a bit like he was at the top of the world. There was something about a Klingon party like this, maybe it was the fact that he had grown up in the first city idolizing warriors, wanting to be one. Maybe it was the fact that he had joined the first academy wanting nothing more than to serve and be just like the men around them starting brawls, drinking, laughing, eating what he considered his childhood favorite... it all felt fun to him, invigorating enough to ignore the wound that made breathing more difficult, or made sure that he couldn't fully keep his balance for long periods of time because of how deep the cut of chancellor Martok's blade had been.

Speaking of the chancellor where was he? Surely he could not have left all of his troops to their revelry alone, he kept looking for the man who had killed him in the crowd. He wasn't sure why he wanted to see the face of the man who had run him through. Kyle took a deep breath his chest expanded with all three of his lungs giving him a bit of a broader chest than most other humans, but without ridges, without any familiar marks, he just didn't look like the man who had died before.

Rutherford's comment about him needing a parrot was also amusing. He let out a small 'yar' noise as he sipped his drink bemused.

He took a sip of his drink watching the Orion woman fight she was doing well. "She's putting up a good battle, that's two in a row she has gone through now."

Deacon spoke and Kyle chuckled slightly at his public eversciration not having been enough. "Deacon, my body has not forgotten my injuries, I don't think I will ever get to the point where I can ever fully fight again, but let a broken man have his fun, without it there is no point in my living past my expiry date."

"And as for you commander." He looked around the room. "You are the highest ranking member of the crew in the room, If you don't do something, speak or say something to command them, then they will begin to doubt your authority if you don't want them constantly fighting and making a mess of the place you are the only one who can stop it." He felt the way she sank into him, and he was comfortable with it. His hand went from holding her shoulder to holding her waist. For a moment he wondered if he could get away with grabbing her butt, but saved the thought, he wasn't fully recovered, and would not survive any sucker punches from anyone.

"The order has to be clear, concise, and you can't back down." He whispered into her ear. "If anyone challenges your authority, don't stumble, don't look away." He didn't know whom he was talking with, or that she was the diplomatic commander of the ship, he did however have years of knowledge on how to deal with Klingons. He had been raised on Qo'Nos, and knew all that there was. "And if you really want to get their attention." He pointed at the plate of Gagh brought out by Deacon.

"The Gree worms are the brown ones." He said with a soft whisper.

Re: CH01: S [D01|1400] Klingon guests

Reply #9 –
Lt. JG Dantius Thi Anh-Le | Deck 28 | Below Decks Lounge Attn: @Auctor Lucan  @stardust   @steelphoenix   @Masorin

<You fight well, for a greenskin!> the Klingon woman snarled with a toothy grin.  Anh-Le stumbled back against the wall, narrowly avoiding being taken out by an unfortunate Starfleet officer taking an involuntary flight, and squinted through her rapidly-swelling left eye.  <And a cute little thing, too.  What a good time I'd show you were I to claim you!> 

...well at least this asshole's hot and slightly less rude than that other guy.  <'Claim' me?  Try that and I'll make you regret it!> 

The Klingon's eyes were dark as she grinned.  <Oh?  And how will you-->  Whatever else the Klingon woman was going to say was cut off as three Klingons locked in an awkward wrestling scrum ran right into Anh-Le and knocked the Orion off of her feet, sending her spinning into one of the alcove couches, which she barely managed to catch herself on before she would've tumbled to the floor. 

Damn it.  This really turned into a mess fast.  And some of it was Anh-Le's fault, but really, she wasn't in the mood to blame herself for not being polite to the rude dick who decided that having green skin made you open to being harassed.  I need to get a megaphone or something...  She pulled herself up on the couch, then scrambled sideways as a Klingon was headbutted under the chin, falling unconscious like a sack of bricks on the alcove's table.  The Klingon who'd taken out that man roared in victory, then was almost immediately taken down by a third unwilling aviator. 

Well, at least with some of these guys out of the fight it should calm down...  Now, she should probably get to the bar, see if the attendant had some kind of crowd control, and then find a combadge (her own, unfortunately, had been lost to the female Klingon) to summon Security.  Which meant dancing in between the moving scrums, but that couldn't be helped.  Best to just get it over with, it was only a few meters. 

Let's go! 

She made it three steps from the alcove before she was hit from behind and knocked facefirst into a burly Klingon who was engaged in a ferocious boxing match with a petite Engineering noncom. 

"Damn it," Anh-Le groaned, pushing herself up, and was almost immediately punched in the other eye by the Klingon under her as he flailed. 
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OOC: Commander Rutherford, you're up!  XD
Really enjoying writing a halfway stable character for once...

Re: CH01: S [D01|1400] Klingon guests

Reply #10 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Below Decks Lounge | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Masorin  , @GroundPetrel  , @Auctor Lucan  (the angry Klingon) , @steelphoenix 
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Almost forgetting that she was wedged into ‘Kyle’s arm, as the scene unfolded before her, Samantha returned her blue gaze to Deacon, as he explained her slight misjudgment. “Still not going to be his wife.” she interjected defiantly, shaking her head with a snobbish gaze, just because she could. Yet, if she hadn’t been so caught up in her awkwardness over the situation, she would’ve picked up on the bartender’s covert hints a little sooner, than on the last words of his statement. To which ‘Kyle’ replied in kind. “Oh, so you …” she turned, as well as she could in the embrace, to face the dark-haired pirate. “That means I …” No, she’d not finish explaining her own unawareness like an absolute buffoon. She was clearly the most oblivious person in this entire room. And there were about half a dozen Klingons in there that were so intoxicated they couldn’t distinguish a cactus from a potential mate. So that meant something.

Still, both ‘Kyle’ – which she should've probably started thinking of as Jack – and Deacon felt like pushing the entire responsibility on her, just because she paid attention in school and got a couple of pips. Oh wait, she had actually come down here to keep what was happening right now from happening in the first place. Looking at the disguised Klingon intently, seriously, brows knitted together, as he explained to her the way to speak to the other members of his species. “Yeah, not going to happen.” She replied in regard to standing up and making herself the biggest target imaginable. It never played out favorably for redshirts. Then she felt the strong arm sink to her midriff. “And THAT …” she pushed Jack’s arm back up to her shoulders. “Is not going to happen either.” Huffing slightly, the woman let her eyes trail to the nearby table, where a bowl of moving, squirming worms had been placed. Screwing up her face in disgust, she felt a sickness coming on, that had already been latent ever since being cornered at the bar. She twitched back to reality at Jack's whisper.

Another dry thump and a hissed curse of the formidable Orion woman. Both man’s eyes on her … great. "Fine!” Samantha threw her hands into the air before rebelliously snaking her way out of the man’s embrace. Huffing over to the side table she picked up the bowl of ‘Gagh’, yet held it as far away from herself as her arm reached. Traversing to the end of the bar the slender blonde clambered on top of it. It had looked much more graceful when the Lieutenant had done it moments before. Steadying herself, as if on a rickety boat, she composed herself into a surprisingly commanding pose. “ghob 'e' mev, qoH SoH, SoH ra' jIH!” (“Stop the fighting, you fools, I command you!”) the diplomat shouted loudly, her voice unmistakably stern and menacing, trying her best Klingon demeanor.

But the truth was, Samantha didn’t have any experience with the Klingons to speak of. She had mostly dealt with Cardassians, Romulans and some minor species. A fact which had been a thorn in her side and an insecurity ever since she had boarded the IKS Vor'Nak at Kayvok. Now she was pushed into the thick of it and she could feel her knees shake, though it was not something easily detectable to anyone further away. “gagh tlhab ghaj!” (“Have some free gagh!”) she shouted, digging her hand into the bowl without further thinking about it. It felt wet and soft and slimy and disgustingly animated. Closing her fist around a considerable number of worms, she threw them into the crowd of Klingons. Whether she hoped they would catch them with their mouths or not, she didn’t know. What didn’t land on a Klingon, now wiggled around on the floor. Evidently the ‘visitors’ didn’t know what to make of the situation at first, as everyone froze in their motion, perplexed.

“What?!” the diplomat snapped, reverting to her native language. “That's where they live! Here, have some m…” Digging into the bowl once more, now with a considerable amount of the aforementioned brown ones, the officer did not quite manage to finish her motion before a sharp sting emanated from her middle finger. “What the … OUCH!” she yelped, dropping the entire bowl, which spun a few times in the air, before landing on Jack’s head like an ornate headpiece of wiggly worms and silver metal. But more prominently, it seemed as if one of the worms was in fact eating HER! Rather than the other way around. It was obviously the moment of weakness the Klingons had been waiting for. Those who didn’t resume the brawl with the Orion woman stormed the counter area.

Talk about being caught between a rock and a hard place.

OOC: Let me know if this is too much XD

Re: CH01: S [D01|1400] Klingon guests

Reply #11 –
[ Deacon | Below Decks Lounge | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Masorin  @GroundPetrel  @Auctor Lucan  @stardust

In an instant, the belief that Deacon was one of two adults in the room melted away with the usual blend of disappointment and acceptance of truth, and again he was the lone voice ot maturity.  One eye twitched with marked annoyance, his culinary experiment now little more than a makeshift hat for the one who couldn't seem to get enough personal death and had no reasoning how his presence merely complicated matters.

A steady string of Kzinti curses were muttered under his breath, his eyes now firmly gold once more.  He considered his options grimly -- stand with his crew and fight the Klingons?  While it might be considered good natured brawling by the Klingons, he doubted Ives would see it in the same light and he would not Ives' ire nor his disapproval.   Turn against the crew?  It stood in defiance of his oath to protect the crew as he would his pride -- no matter how much the deserved a good chastisement, and that too riskes the captain's displeasure far more than anything he might do to the Klingons.  Attack them all?  The option appealed deeply to his inner spirit, but even had he never encountered the Savi, he doubted himself sufficient to forceably pacify the lot by fang and claw alone.

There was one more option-- the one seldom recognized by any Kzinti worth their name except for a Black Priest.  Do nothing.  He frowned slightly, the distaste of his choice settling on his tongue.  Slowly, he tapped his badge, "Deacon to security, we have a situation in Below Decks... it is my intent to contain the festivities here.  You will want to ensure they do not spill out onto Deck 28."  A second tap.  "Deacon to Sickbay.  We have some crewmembers who have elected to show our Klingon guests a good time.  Expect visitors shortly."

He stepped towards the bar, grabbing the bowl from Hi'Jak's head, but turning his attention to Rutherford.  "I have secured the deck at large. Contain your chaos to Below Decks.  I'll be back."  It was fitting.  Let those who had started and participated in this mess sort it out.  The Klingons would likely take it as good sport and as long as no one died and the battle remained where it was, Deacon could consider his efforts a success.  He paused, giving Rutherford another look as he proceeded to step into the galley, "Remember, commander... Heghlu'meH QaQ jajvam is an affirmation, not an imperative."

Turning to the gathered patrons, he raised his voice, "Rokeg blood pie and more bloodwine coming up to sate our Klingon brothers and sisters, courtesy of the House of Maryk."  That said, he disappeared through the door.

Re: CH01: S [D01|1400] Klingon guests

Reply #12 –
['Kyle' |  Deck 28|  Below Decks Lounge ]Attn: @Auctor Lucan @stardust @GroundPetrel @steelphoenix

As the commander let go of him, and slipped out of his grasp, Jack had to go back to leaning against the bar, He grabbed his cane and watched thinking that this place would soon be back under some semblance of control. He knew how this place looked, he knew that for the Klingons this was a celebration, good spirits for the fight to come, these brawls, the drinks and food was all in good faith to them. Part of him wanted to join in, it was difficult not too.

Jack had wanted to be a warrior growing up, he had idolized this type of thing as a child, Unfortunately he had never been good enough to be a warrior, the best he could do was be a mediocre infiltrator, a half baked spy, and a somewhat decent scientist.

He hoped for a moment that Rutherford would be able to retake this place. Take command and at least put an end to the brawls. Unfortunately she had failed so spectacularly that somehow he was covered in Gagh, a gree worm fell down the back of his shirt and delighted its self in attacking his back chewing on him and biting into his skin to drink his blood. He closed his eyes and sighed for a moment.

The green girl was still locked in fights, the commander was getting laughed at, the host had abandoned the house... The klingons would only get more roudy, Ives would see this as a riot soon to break out. Kyle pulled the bowl off his head and put it back on the bar, he stepped back, drawing himself to his full height was painful his feet unsteady, the deep breath caused his legs to tremble, he raised his cane and smacked it against the bar, smashing the bowl with a loud clatter that drew the attention of the crowd.

"Enough!" Jack shouted at them for a moment feeling his legs tremble as he did from the pain. "Have you lot forgotten where you are! Look around this is not some Aldean bar or a KDF cafeteria you can trash without consequence! These are your hosts you laugh at!"

A long time ago, he had been pulled into the office of the second in command, and had the difference between a Federation and a KDF ship very much explained to him. "This is a Starfleet ship!" He shouted. "Yet you confuse a member of her crew for an Orion whore! You over turn tables, waist good food and drink! You laugh at her commanding officer!" He grabbed a Gagh from his shoulder biting it to emphases his point letting it's juices roll down his chin for a moment before swallowing.

"Are you the empires finest or are you toddlers who can't go five minutes without breaking your toys!" Jack was going out on a limb, with Rutherford having failed, and Deacon vanishing Jack had the least amount of authority to make such a speach, he was a human in civilian clothes one who's best interest was to not stand out, and be a passive observer, and yet here was on legs that barely worked standing up for the crew trying to stop this brawl from spilling over into the rest of the ship. "Drink, and eat to your hearts content, but be respectful and remember where we are!"

Re: CH01: S [D01|1400] Klingon guests

Reply #13 –
Lt. JG Dantius Thi Anh-Le | Deck 28 | Below Decks Lounge Attn: @Auctor Lucan  @stardust    @steelphoenix    @Masorin

"What the Human said!" Anh-Le shouted, propping herself up on a wall, both of her eyes rapidly darkening with bruises.  "Look, I'm sorry for spilling bloodwine on a couple of you fine people, but it was a genuine accident.  Here, I'll buy you guys a round to make up for it!"  It wasn't like they were on rationing here, but it was the thought that counted. 

Well, that was certainly an auspicious start to this mission.  The enemy can hit Paris with impunity and we can't even keep it civil with our only proper allies?  What a mess. 

The Klingons seemed to be calming down, though, most looking sheepishly at each other after hearing the one-eyed man's speech.  Anh-Le saw one clap the Starfleet crewman he'd been fighting with on the shoulder, accompanied by a crude but appreciative statement of the Starfleet man's prowess.  She looked around for Krotan, son of somebody very important, and felt a little spark of unprofessional satisfaction at seeing him sprawled unconscious half-over a table with his behind in the air and his face on the floor. 

The Orion stumbled to the bar, groaning at the pain of several forming bruises.  "Hey, thanks for that," she told the Human man with the eyepatch.  "I'm Lieutenant JG Dantius, but you can call me Anh-Le for bailing us all out like that.  Good work, you'd think you were a diplomat who spent years working with Klingons." 

She then leaned over to offer the blonde Commander a hand up.  "Sorry for stealing your drink like that, ma'am.  Tough situation all around.  Need a hand there?" 
Really enjoying writing a halfway stable character for once...

Re: CH01: S [D01|1400] Klingon guests

Reply #14 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Below Decks Lounge | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Masorin , @GroundPetrel , @Auctor Lucan (the angry Klingon/Martok) , @steelphoenix 
[Show/Hide]


Today was not the day to ‘Heghlu'meH QaQ jajvam’, that was for sure. It had started so beautifully! The Raktajino had not made Samantha gag this morning, like usual. The sonic shower had felt extra exhilarating since Ensign Farnsworth had installed that booster she had requested. And all the paperwork she had to go through had felt like a breeze. Now that she simply had wanted to wrap up her last business on the list and check up on the Klingon pariah, the day had gone to shit on the home stretch. Now the blonde was standing on a counter, stormed by angry warriors, covered in gagh, while a gree worm was trying to swallow her from the index finger first.

Deacon patted his badge and called security – which she had already ordered to stand by on deck 28, so that wouldn’t take long – which she could’ve thought about. But no, in the face of the ‘honorable’ Klingons, the diplomat had wanted to keep her pride and try to contain the situation herself. She had grossly overestimated her powers, it seemed. But then the proprietor of Below Decks left them too, with a snide remark, no less. Mouth slightly agape, brows furrowed, the officer watched him vanish, almost forgetting the worm sucking on her hand, down to the first knuckle by now. So, he was going to prepare a Klingon feast. Well, she wasn’t sure if that was going to help.

Then ‘Kyle’ – aka Hi’Jak who wanted to be called just Jack - stood up and his voice boomed across the bar. It was so loud and assertive that Samantha was half worried the Klingons would recognize him as one of their own. But his seemingly as well altered vocal cords did not quite reach the low frequencies as they probably had in their original configuration. He made a valid point and the diplomat felt so certain of his success that she gladly took the time to pull the gree worm from her finger. Those were some stretchy motherfuckers. She pulled the worm to almost twice its length before it finally plopped off and sailed across the room into someone’s juice. They weren’t looking – but they would regret it.

To say she felt a little bit embarrassed was an understatement. The officer had to get down from the bar as quickly as possible, so she could melt into the floor and vanish. Moving over to the edge, where she had come up, the chair had been tossed over. Now the Orion woman tuned into Jack’s sentiments as well and then came over to introduce herself. It was nice to finally put a name to the fierce fighter. “Oh yeah, you’d think that.” Because it was true. Well, sans the diplomat part. Jack had indeed been working with the Klingons for a while since he’d been one. Was one. It was complicated. Shooting the man a loaded look, she hoped he wouldn’t go on and divulge his life’s story openly, right now, with half the Klingon delegation looking.

“It’s quite alright … and thanks.” Samantha replied, gladly taking Anh-Le’s hand to jump off the counter. “Samantha Rutherford.” She provided her own formal introduction, pulling the jacket of her uniform back into place at the hip.  “Looks like you mediated that one nicely, honey.” she grinned at Jack sardonically, reaching out to give his cheek a gentle fist bump, before turning to the Orion woman again. “Sometimes you have to give your man a moment to shine.” The diplomat smiled. Yes, that was the angle she was going to play now. Jack was her betrothed, or promised, or whatever and she had just let him take the stage, not horribly failed herself. And thus, she could indeed confirm he was human top to bottom and front to end, of course.

It was in that moment of mutual complacency, when it seemed like her ploy was going along well, that two Klingons came over almost coyly. Now seemingly unsure of how to introduce themselves. “Excuse me … we were wondering, if you could resolve another dispute.” Yet, even though Jack had been the one to mediate the previous disagreement, they seemed to be more interested in the opinion of the two women. “We’d like to know who the better singer is, out of the two of us.” The diplomat cringed lightly. Klingons weren’t exactly known for their melodic prowess. Fishing for Jack’s hand the blonde squeezed it tight. “Honey … would you mind taking this one too?” she pleaded, a forced smile towards the Klingons. “And where are those pies and drinks?!” she added more loudly, looking back at the door to the kitchen. Maybe, if she stuffed a blood-pie into each Klingon’s face, they’d not start to sing.

Re: CH01: S [D01|1400] Klingon guests

Reply #15 –
[ Deacon | Below Decks Lounge | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Masorin  @GroundPetrel  @Auctor Lucan  @stardust

No sooner had the riotous merriment quieted itself to a rambunctious gathering, Deacon emerged from the galley area once more, a mild smirk of satisfaction on his face.  Not a finger of his required lifting for the decorum of this place to be restored.  Had he been hosting Klingons alone in a Klingon establishment, he might have seen the festivities as the norm and befitting the culture, but this was a Starfleet vessel and he had come to expect a modicum more self control under the circumstances.  Mind you, not much, having witnessed the alcoholic drought many of the crew seemed willing to subject the ship to from a single night of misery and dashed hopes at procreation... but still...

Inclining his head slightly, he lifted his voice, "Honored warriors, sons and daughters of Kahless, there is bloodwine and blood pie for the feasting.  Come, eat, and may it please the fiery spirit as it does the stomach."  With that, a holographic retinue of staff emerged from the galley, pushing large carts of wine flasks and steaming plates of Rokeg blood pie, distributing them around the lounge for easy access.

Deacon observed the orchestrations, nodding approvingly, sparing only the occasional glance at those crewmembers that had somehow managed to clean up the mess that had unfolded around them.  This would be a tale he would need to share with his K'Ren when he returned to quarters.  Admittedly, not the recounting he had expected or even hoped for, but sufficiently adequate by his measure.

"Maryk?" a Klingon lieutenant said, stepping up to Deacon's side to watch the service as well.  "House of Maryk, you said?"

Casting his eyes sidewards, Deacon tried to measure if this were the onset to a challenge.  To maintain civility, he opted to take it as little more than a question.  "Yes.  My family name is Maryk, and thus, House of Maryk."

The Klingon burst into a boisterous laugh, patting Deacon soundly on the shoulder.  "And here I thought the old woman was making it up... Never saw another member of this house, but that woman has high aspirations for a human."

Turning his head slowly, still unsure of the intent of this conversation, Deacon asked, "Old woman?"

"No disrespect, friend," the Klingon responded, holding up one hand, the other already gripping a large mug of blood wine that he nearly up-ended before continuing, "no disrespect.  An elder of yours I assume."  His face screwed up slightly struggling for a memory.  "Former ambassador to your Federation.  Seems she favored what she saw."  Throwing his arm wide to highlight his fellows, he added, "But who could blame her?  Now... what was her name?  What was her name?  Ah!  Sore-eye...ah?  Something like that."

"Soraya Maryk?" Deacon clarified, arching an eyebrow.

"Aye, that's the one.  She's one of yours, eh?" He cast a sidewards glance at Deacon's backside for a moment. "No one ever mentioned a tail on her though.  Supposedly human."

"She is.  I'm not.  Soraya Maryk is my paternal grandmother.  I was under the impression she had died," Deacon admitted, rubbing his chin in consideration, brows slightly furrowed.  It was fortunate that he had managed to review that much of his familial records with K'Ren's insistence and at the direction of his holographic instructor -- one of his class assignments.

"If she is, then she's trying to find her way to Suto'vo'qor.  Last I heard, she had a small estate near Lake Lusor on Q'onoS."

Deacon inclined his head.  "You have my thanks."  Truth be told, Deacon wasn't certain how best to turn this conversation.  Females were nothing more than property to Kzin.  Falling back on what he knew of  his wife's people, though, he pushed forward, "To know that an honored matriarch" -- an awkward term that took some effort to state correctly -- "is not lost gives us comfort.  Perhaps if I am able to visit your homeworld, I can visit her, and perhaps bring a fresh flask to the one who reunited our House?"  He inclined his head, inviting an introduction.

"Kumoc, Son of Cjural.  And I would welcome the House of Maryk... and their blood wine," the lieutenant cheered, thumping his fist against his chest.

Again, Deacon bowed his head.  "Then let it be so, Kumoc, Son of Cjural.  And until that time," with a wave of his hand towards the foods still being set out, "feast well."  As the Klingon lieutenant rubbed his stomach and turned towards the nearest cart of food, Deacon pivoted toward Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford, finding it reasonable to remain in her proximity for the time being.

Re: CH01: S [D01|1400] Klingon guests

Reply #16 –
['Kyle' |  Deck 28|  Below Decks Lounge ]Attn: @Auctor Lucan @stardust @GroundPetrel @steelphoenix

Hi'Jak was impressed with himself, it took a lot to stand tall at the moment and he could already feel himself go a little light headed, his chest had only been sewn back together a week ago as it were, but he had done it. With the aid of the Orion beauty he was able to stop the ruckus before it evolved into a full on riot. He relaxed for a moment as Anh-Lee introduced himself, Kyle blushed for a moment as she called him a skilled diplomat.

Just as he was about to open his mouth and create a controlled cover story Rutherford spoke up for him calling him honey, he wanted to glare daggers at the other woman. But instead he instantly melted into her, his arm wrapping back around her waist, she couldn't deny him now that she had done that. "Oh Kitten you really shouldn't have done that." He said with a smile towards the woman whom had earlier declared that she would be no mans husband now undeniably having to wrap herself around his human appearance.

"My name is Kyle, the future Kyle Rutherford."  He said declaring it in front of the Klingons, the bar host whom knew the actual reality. And of course the cute Orion with whom all chances for a good 'single' impression had just been lost. "No I was not a diplomat, I'm a scientist, but I did serve with Klingons in the war, and I learned a few things." Sometimes despite all the Tragedies it had inflicted Jack did genuinely love how easy it was to blame things on the war. For a former intellegence officer it made such an easy cover. Though Jack had been deployed during the war, he had never once seen any action. Stuck out on the Romulan Federation boarder back at starbase 84.

Two Klingons came up to him trying to get the human to judge something with their singing, he rolled his eye as Rutherford put the task to him, his hand slipped down just for trying to pin the task on him he gave her butt a soft squeeze. "Of course my love I can deal with this post haste."

He turned towards the warriors. "My friends, I do not have the cultural skill nor knowledge of the language to judge either of your fine voices. I would not understand the songs." Thankfully the replies were cut off by Deacon's return more food and drink then they could handle. He turned towards the trays. "Now your food on the other hand, I have a keen appreciation of." Kyle deftly avoided any songs being sung, and though he said he knew nothing of culture, that was a perfect Klingon dodge.

Reaching over to the cups he filled one with more bloodline, and overheard the interesting fact that Deacon had a klingon house name. He paused for a moment thinking about his own past. No such name or house existed for Hi'Jak, he only had the first name, even earlier he had used Rutherford's family name half joking.

Family... he never had one of those. His mind trailed towards sadder thoughts, and the instant it did he knew the answer to this problem.

Drink! Kyle started to drown himself in bloodwine, so much so that the red liquid actually dripped off his chin as he chugged the cup in hand.

Re: CH01: S [D01|1400] Klingon guests

Reply #17 –
Lt. JG Dantius Thi Anh-Le | Deck 28 | Below Decks Lounge Attn: @Auctor Lucan   @stardust    @steelphoenix    @Masorin

Anh-Le shook her head at the one-eyed man's comment.  "Should've gone into the diplomatic corps.  You're a natural."  She leaned on the bar with a grunt of pain.  "Hey, Mr., uh, Maryk," she tried to pronounce the bartender's name properly and thought she did alright, "can I have some ice when things have settled a bit?  I took a couple hits in the face there."  Technically she could just go to Sickbay, but for something as minor as a black eye, better to just ice it.  It wasn't like the Theurgy had access to Federation supply lines, after all. 

She took a moment to look over the scene as she waited for the bartender to finish defusing the tension.  Commander Blondie (Rutherford?) was hot, and knew it, and didn't like One-Eye as much as she effusively claimed, given the sharp edge to her smile as she cuddled up to him.  (Anh-Le had a brief fantasy of Petty Officer t'Jellaieu cuddling up to her that way, then re-focused herself; future dates with the Romulan would have to be on hold until further notice)  Hard to tell much else at the moment, though Anh-Le did appreciate the view for as long as professionally necessary.

Something was off about One-Eye, whose name probably wasn't Kyle from the way he didn't quite react fast enough to it, and who probably wasn't engaged to Rutherford given how he hitched at the blonde's approach to him, but he hid it pretty well; Anh-Le resolved to keep an eye on him, just in case.  He didn't seem like a person of interest, but the mere fact that she suspected him to not be who he claimed...  Better tell Commander Fisher.  Just in case.

Then Rutherford deflected a request from two Klingons for a singing-contest judgement to Not-Kyle, who demurred.  Doesn't know Klingon language or skill?  Bullshit.  He says he hung around them enough to pick some stuff up, you learn songs fast, even before you know the lingo.  It was the beat and melody and all that, that helped people remember songs much more easily than they did regular usage of a foreign language. 

"Fuck it," Anh-Le sighed, her left eye swelling part-way shut in response to the beating she'd taken earlier.  "I'll judge it, my parents took me to a performance of 'u' when I was a kid, that'll be enough qualifications to judge your singing, right?" 
-----------
OOC: Referenced the scene I did with @Griff recently.  :)

Also, 'u' is a real-life opera in tlhIngan Hol that was actually professionally performed, it basically tells the myth of Kahless the Unforgettable.  :D
Really enjoying writing a halfway stable character for once...

Re: CH01: S [D01|1400] Klingon guests

Reply #18 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Below Decks Lounge | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Masorin , @GroundPetrel , @Auctor Lucan (the angry Klingon/Martok) , @steelphoenix 
[Show/Hide]


Within a short amount of time, the animosity between pretence Kyle and Samantha had grown into a tension, that was barely contained within the staccato of each word, they breathed at one another through gritted teeth. And while the man did a far better job at concealing his true feelings – or maybe they just weren’t as different from what he let on – the blonde also had to grudgingly admit he was doing rather decent in dealing with the Klingons. Something that would never, in any way, shape or form, pass her lips. Just like no part of the meals and drinks served tonight, would. She cringed slightly at the name ‘Kyle Rutherford’, but contained herself with an assuring smile that never quite met her blue eyes. At the very least it probably wasn’t very Klingon to take on the name of the wife, so it was as good a distraction from his true heritage as any.

It was almost funny, he proclaimed he wasn’t a diplomat. So apparently, they hadn’t met during a peace conference. Looking at Jack, however, the real diplomat wondered, if he really was a scientist. She couldn’t recall the fact from his file, actually, and at the very least she was showing genuine interest, if only for a fleeting moment. That quickly passed as his hand pinched her butt. Oh, the restraint … if he wouldn’t have already been one-legged, she’d made sure he was, from this night onwards. The notion really hadn’t been necessary for their cover, so she could only assume it was purely for individual joy. Especially, since he then went on a tangent how he could NOT judge their singing argument. Rolling her eyes strongly, like two magic 8 balls, her head dipped backward as well, so the woman almost fell out of her chair.

And once more, the strapping Orion woman came to Samantha’s aid, developing herself far better in the hero role than anyone else in the bar. Letting out a relieved sigh, and momentarily considering to better hitch her banner to THAT wagon, she gave the other woman a reassuring smile, herself hanging in Jack’s embrace like a wilted flower. The two Klingons looked at each other. “We can sing that.” one of them reassured, though seemingly uncertain of his bold statement. The two cleared their throats and started belting out the lyrics. Truth be told, and with purely objective judgment, it sounded like a cat was being squeezed through the keyhole of a shed filled with targs. Using all her Vulcan mind control to shut off her ears, the blonde forced herself into a complacent sea of tranquility, far, far away from this new mediation.

That was, until Jack picked up that mug of blood wine, and drank it like a Klingon. Snapping back to attention so fast, it made her head spin, the diplomat threw up her arm a little uncontrolled, thus slapping the mug out from the man’s grasp and away from his face. It landed on the counter in a fountain of red, rolling over and then falling to the floor with one last clank. “Jesus! Your allergies!” was the only quick comeback the 'skilled diplomat' could come up with. At the very least it wasn’t very ‘human fiancé of a Starfleet officer’. Trying to regain composure once more, she was entirely aware of Deacon’s proximity and what seemed like another disapproving glance. Alright, tonight’s Federation Star of Diplomacy would go to Jack, in unanimous assent. How about everyone just went back to what they were supposed to do. Which would include wiping down that counter.

It was only then that Samantha looked back at the two Klingons, who had stopped singing the moment the mug flew through the air. They still seemed a bit dumbfounded. “It was wonderful.” she smiled beautifully, leaving it to Anh-Le to ultimately decide, who was the least dreadful singer of the two.

Re: CH01: S [D01|1400] Klingon guests

Reply #19 –
[ Deacon | Below Decks Lounge | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Masorin  @GroundPetrel  @Auctor Lucan  @stardust

"Ladies," Deacon said, interjecting himself into the competition now that it had snapped into half-time, "The Lounge isn't ideal for such a performance.  However," he offered, motioning towards the doors leading to the adjacent holosuites, "we have a program that replicates the great opera hall of Qo'noS with a full orchestral selection of everything from Aktuh and Maylota to Shevok'tah gish and even Gav'ot toH'va which I am sure could be tuned to match each of you in turn."

He nodded, casting a glance at the others, "If you are to compete, I insist you have a worthy battlefield.  Perhaps some of your comrades would enjoy the performance?  The refreshments can accompany you if you so desire." 

Another silent signal sent to one of the holographic staff as they read his motions and manner.  A female hologram approached, her short, dark hair barely dusting her shoulders as she approached.  "Ladies, I've prepared an excellent staging ground for you in holosuite 1."  Xenia... Deacon's functional second-in-command when it came to lounge operations and its host when he wasn't around.  As she escorted the two towards the door, she recounted how she rarely had the opportunity to hear Klingon Opera performed live and hoped it wouldn't be too intrusive if she could witness their performances herself.

Behind the bar, Taliesin stepped up, already wiping up the spilled blood wine with a towel, to which Deacon inclined his head.

Squaring his shoulders, Deacon rose again, casting a sidewards glance at Rutherford and her seemingly unwanted attendant -- the Klingon cling-on.  He did not require his ziirgah to read her discomfort as it was almost as palpable as the Orion female's, although of two distinctly separate sources.  He slid a glass of ice towards Anh-Le, suggesting that Sickbay was already alerted and would likely be the best choice, leaving the ultimate decision to her of course.

Shifting his look to "Kyle", he leaned forward.  "If you can part yourself from your female, 'Kyle', holosuite 2 could use some repairs, on the chance that some of our guests are similarly inclined to match skills."  It was his subtle hint that the undercover Klingon should use this opportunity to excuse himself from the situation, although he doubted a great deal the hint would be taken.  Deacon was not inclined to lie, and he was tersely attempting to remove the falsification from his presence for the sake of his faith.  Well, that, and for Rutherford as well he supposed.

Re: CH01: S [D01|1400] Klingon guests

Reply #20 –
[ High Chancellor Martok, son of Urthog | Below Decks Lounge | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Masorin , @GroundPetrel , @stardust , @steelphoenix 
[Show/Hide]
After the talks with Ives' First Officer - a Commander Ducote - and Natauna, Martok had decided against the tedious affairs awaiting him over the Klingon subspace channels. The Empire was gradually learning about the divide in the chancellery, Gorka made the centre of attention by his taHqeq grandfather, who was clearly aligned himself with Kopek to make matters even more dire. Martok had no desire to instigate a civil war, knowing that there were forces at play that couldn't be seen. The Praetor and these other worms, one of which that had claimed N'Garen, would be the sole beneficiaries if his Empire collapsed upon itself. Split by the infamy of the very ship he would be upon when he finally reached Qo'nos.

He supposed he might have accepted Ives' offer not to just reach the First City before Gorka, but to make a ghuy point. To spit the High Council in their collective eye for doubting the merit in his word. If needed be, he would flood the High Council Chamber with the subatomic particles that they had begun to use in his fleet's airlocks and transporters. He would show them the true face of the enemy, and he would unite his Empire before the Praetor's forces breached their borders. His family line might be broken, but in memory of Sirella, he would not surrender like some ghuy'cha' Qovpatlh.

The Spearhead Lounge, as recommended by Ives, had been filled with members of his assembled Klingon force, and while he could have made himself space to drink there, with the present of the two-hundred giving him room and a table for himself if he wanted it, he had decided to learn where the rest of his warriors had gone. One of Ives' female officers had provided the Deck and the corridor, and even taken upon her to show the way. A Commander Dewitt, whom had fought the Borg upon the Theurgy's small scoutship. Bold woman... he thought after she stepped away, their talking brief, and her about to command the Allegiant anew.

The sliding doors parted for him, and indeed, many of his two-hundred companions had sought drink in this lounge at the very bottom of the multivector dreadnought. When spotted, a roar acknowledged his arrival, sprung from loyal and thirsty throats. He curled his upper lip at them all with a grin, and General Chu'vok stood up from his seat at the back of the crowded room. His old friend, in both respects of the word, swaggered over to him with a loud "qaleghneS!" and Martok's grin widened, returning the embrace and the clap on his shoulder.

"If I need to pry the Empire back from this Targ that challenge me," he said to his General, "I look forward to have you at my side in battle once more."

"Long live the Empire," Chu'vok said in acknowledgement, baring his fangs in a matching grin. Martok had put the Captain of the Vor'Nak in charge of defending Aldea, so that Chu'vok could accompany him, and the General turned to the crowd. "Make way for the High Chancellor!"

And thus, the path cleared to the bar, and a modicum of silence fell over this Federation starship lounge that Martok's warriors considered graced by his presence. As for Martok himself, he wasn't so arrogant as to think it the case, rather wanting to distract himself while he could. Before battle would find him anew.

"Bloodwine!" he called as he walked up to the bar, finding a couple of Ives' officers present, along with a Human that - for some reason - had a tail, of all things. He directed a stare of query towards the present Starfleet faces, one whom seemed injured, and inclined his head towards them. "I trust my warriors have conducted themselves well enough? We Klingons don't do well in idleness, and such might last... until we reach our homeworld."

Then, Gorka, Kopek and all who stood against them would know his ire.

The doors opposite the ones he'd come from hissed open at that moment, on the other side of the lounge, and there...

...stood a seven feet tall alien, of which kind Martok had never seen before.

Wiry and with large hands, head beyond over-sized, eyes as black as night, and corpse-pale skin. She was wearing a dark body suit which cast her skin in even more stark contrast, and her lips were a thin line cutting through a stern mien. Her stare made the closest Klingons fall silent, likely as unsettled as Martok thought they might be. Yet he wondered... was this one of the aliens that Ives had mentioned when he beamed aboard?

No more had he thought it... before the alien stepped back, and left the lounge before she had even entered it.

"What was that?" called a Bekk not far from the bar. "What a handsome race! I will speak with her!" His call sparked a cheer of agreement from around the lounge, and before Martok might comment, and the Bekk had reached the door, the present Starfleet officers would intervene.

Re: CH01: S [D01|1400] Klingon guests

Reply #21 –
['Kyle' |  Deck 28|  Below Decks Lounge ]Attn: @Auctor Lucan @stardust @GroundPetrel @steelphoenix

When Anh-Lee called him a natural diplomat it made him happy, he felt an odd warmth to it. He enjoyed it. Someone giving him any kind of recognition felt like a breath of fresh air to the last month and a half that he had come to know this ship.

Jack was fine with the tension between him and Samantha, if anything he thought it was a touch amusing, but as she knocked his cup out of his hand and claimed that he had allergies towards the drink (of which he already had two) he just kinda sighed. Honestly even fake concern was better than nothing, at least in some way someone was trying to think of him, even if Rutherford was constantly making his situation worse. The Klingons had gone silent, due in part to his loss of face due to his mate, but thankfully Deacon was quick to distract with holographic bar tenders and an offer to show them a projection of the first city theater.

He had never stepped foot in the great Opera Hall, so much of his home world he had never gotten to see when he had been there, and now there even as they plotted a course to Qo'Nos it's self he knew he would never get to step foot back on that worlds soil, it was too dangerous for the alliance between Klingon and theurgy to spend time in the first city. Even if that was where his home, and his nation had been he could never go back. Suddenly he felt very thirsty, in need of a new drink, but he had to stop, drowning himself in booze would only distract the pain, not solve it.

Deacon purposed that 'Kyle' should go fix Holosuite 2, and he paused for a moment looking at the cat human with a slow pause. "Deacon, I'm a scientist not an engineer. If the holosuite is offline I'd hardly be able to know what was wrong with it." The only repair he had ever done was maybe when he had used a phaser to burn open a door. So any subtlity of removing himself from Rutherford or this situation in general was completely lost on him.

Then came in Martok. Jack now disguised as Kyle trembled slightly, his chest physically hurt at the sight of the old chancellor. His hand still around Rutherfords waist tightened shivering as he looked at the man who had killed him not one week ago. He had known the High Chancellor was out and about, he had hoped that he wouldn't be around here to be sure. Speaking to the crowd of Klingons with the pretense of a disguise was one thing, speaking to the man whom had ordered and carried out his execution via old Klingon blood ritual. His currently green eye was wide, and he was having a difficult time containing his fear.

Fear that was brought full circle upon seeing the other creature walk in. The seven foot tall bug eyed creature. Jack felt his breath halt, it was like he was back in that pod, he felt like he couldn't breath, the tube that had been supplying air back then... watching one of the crew get 'flushed' a process that had involved several acid compartments in a painful death. He closed his eye trying not to think, trying to calm, trying to deter the full on panic attack that was building up. Jack had felt his mind stopped working, the shadows of the past between Martok, between that cursed bug creature, he felt his arm, the one replaced feel like it was being bitten off again, he felt his eye melting once more, he felt Martok's blade sinking into his flesh.

His face paled his two hearts struggled to pump the blood required his three lungs still struggled to draw breath... why, so many questions, why was that thing here of all places? He struggled to contain himself, remind himself that too much and he would alert people to the truth of who he was. He still felt like he was choking, by now he was holding onto Samantha so tight he was practically shaking her. Some bekk was wanting to go after the creature infatuated with it. Jack regained some of himself but his voice was too small.

"Don't... bother it." He tried to say, but his voice lacked any and all authority it had before. Too small now, to scared to speak with the bellowing authority he had managed when controlling just the klingons. Martok or the Savi he could handle one or the other, but not both.

Re: CH01: S [D01|1400] Klingon guests

Reply #22 –
Lt. JG Dantius Thi Anh-Le | Deck 28 | Below Decks Lounge Attn: @Auctor Lucan  @stardust  @steelphoenix   @Masorin

Well, it wasn't the worst singing she'd ever heard.  Fortunately, the bartender offered an alternative to making a decision as Rutherford the alleged diplomat sent a mug of bloodwine flying (did she want another brawl?).  "Ah, it's a hard decision...how about we avail ourselves of that holosuite, huh?  I'm no great singer myself, but I can provide some accompaniment for Qoy, qeylIs puqloD, that one's always...uh...good for distinguishing voices." 

Then the doors swished open, and a burly, one-eyed Klingon walked in, drawing cheers from the Klingons in the crowd.  Martok, of course; it'd be hard to not recognize him.  Odd that he'd be out here, working with a renegade Starfleet ship...  But that just spoke to how desperately fucked they all were.  He did a little of the customary glad-handing and Comradely Leader-ing that was expected of a powerful Klingon, then walked over to the bar. 

"I trust my warriors have conducted themselves well enough?" he asked.  "We Klingons don't do well in idleness, and such might last... until we reach our homeworld." 

Anh-Le chuckled.  "Your men acquit themselves well enough in hand-to-hand combat, martoq Qang.  I'm afraid that one fellow mistook me for the ship's entertainment, and I was forced to defend my honor from this insult by breaking his teeth.  Regrettably, in the process of correcting that man's behavior, I spilled some bloodwine on a few others, and they quite reasonably took offense.  It developed from there."  She mashed the bag of ice the bartender had given her onto her bruised eye with a groan.  "Nnf, that's the stuff." 

She'd just turned to scan the room again when another alien entered.  This one was tall and pale, like something out of vintage Earth sci-fi, monochrome dark eyes on a teardrop-shaped skull.  So this is one of the 'Savi' I was briefed on.  Hope they're for real about apologizing for being arrogant murdering scum.  She eyed this individual up and down, finding it hard to read.  Worrisome.  Handsome enough for an artist's purposes, I suppose.  Apparently some of the Klingons agreed, though not-Kyle seemed to be having a panic attack. 

"Hey," Anh-Le whispered, leaning in towards the one-eyed man.  "You alright?  You look like you've seen a ghost." 
Really enjoying writing a halfway stable character for once...

Re: CH01: S [D01|1400] Klingon guests

Reply #23 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Rutherford | Below Decks Lounge | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Masorin , @GroundPetrel , @Auctor Lucan (the angry Klingon/Martok) , @steelphoenix
[Show/Hide]


The proprietor of the Below Decks lounge had a certain sense of snide derision to his mannerisms that Samantha wasn’t quite sure whether to take as him disliking or covertly coming on to her. Constantly drawn between being amused by the comments and being offended by them. Which was a thrilling ride in its own, for sure. But thrill was not exactly in short supply right now and some soothing would’ve gone a much longer way in regards of garnering her attention. But she couldn’t even go down that booby-trapped rabbit-hole as he referred to her as “your female” to Jack, since the lounge doors swooshed open once more and a much too familiar behemoth waltzed in. General Martok himself … this wasn’t good.

Worming herself out of her sidekick’s embrace temporarily the blonde officer stood straight, checking her uniform quickly for any splatters of blood wine, or other undignified additions to the color scheme, and quickly flicked a wiggling Gree from the counter behind her to give the impression of keeping her surroundings as clean and professional as herself. Of course, that was rather moot given the ramshackle pirate on the seat beside her. But tossing him off to further her position of dignity was probably counterproductive as Martok was already right there, looking at them.

“Oh no, we kept them entertained alright.” Samantha replied to the dignitary’s query with a confident voice and a subtle, obeisant smile and nod for greeting. “Commander Rutherford. Theurgy’s CDO as of recent.” she offered as a means of satisfying his interrogative stare. “And this is Lieutenant Dantius from … the Klingon entertainment department.” she invented on the spot, giving the Orion woman a meaningful side-stare. Obviously she had done well giving the visitors a proverbial run for their money and they all had seemed rather excited about it … Deacon aside.

Then, the doors opened another time, with a … holy shit, a Savi appearing. Their faces were so emotionless, it was hard to tell, but in this instance, it seemed like shock had washed over those dark, dead eyes, before they backed out once more. Probably taking their business to their own private replicator instead. The diplomat felt Jack’s arm snake around her waist once more, like a boa constrictor, only this time truly so. She heard him utter some raspy comeback, to which Anh-Le replied with a level of concern that would’ve seemed quite uncharacteristic, minutes before.

„That waaas …“ Samantha let the vowel linger like an enchanted sing sang, as she fished for a viable story in her diplomatically trained mind. “… one of our science projects into human evolution sadly gone slightly awry. She would be extremely embarrassed if you were to approach her based on those superficial appearances. It would be - dare I say - downright dishonourable.” The woman nodded her pate at herself to reassure the point made, brows raised for added drama. Potentially someone would jump in to back her up.
 

Re: CH01: S [D01|1400] Klingon guests

Reply #24 –
[ Deacon | Below Decks Lounge | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy ] attn: @Masorin  @GroundPetrel  @Auctor Lucan  @stardust


Martok.  Deacon recognized the chancellor instantly -- there was a certain amount of cultural respect the Kzinti paid to Klingons, and knowing the details of their ruling council was a small way that respect was shown.  As the chancellor entered, Deacon leaned closely to whisper in 'Kyle's' ear, his tone unmistakable, "The next time I want you to leave, I will simply have security remove you."  The punctuation was the unstated sentiment that should Martok see through the deception laying bare faced before him and take offense, Hi'Jak will find it necessary to clean up his own viscera before Deacon will allow him to Sickbay.

Rutherford could see the fluidity of Deacon's disposition as he raised himself up, straightening his shoulders again and inclined his head towards the approaching Klingon commander.  "Chancellor Martok," he said with what appeared to be genuine respect, "you honor us with your presence.  As the others can attest," he inclined his head towards the lieutenant and commander, "your people have been most hearty in their celebrations and our officers here have done their utmost to rise to the occasion."  He arched his eyebrow, "Tell me, Chancellor. Was the Officer's Lounge not to your taste?"  He was certain that Captain Ives and the others would've invited someone of his caliber to Spearhead at the very least.  To see him unannounced in Below Decks was unexpected, and now it fell to him to not only maintain order, but deference to their host for the past month.  He cracked a lop-sided smirk, as if anticipating the response.  "Not enough blood wine, I wager."  He slid a fresh mug forward, arching an eyebrow.

"We had been experimenting with Gagh and Gree worm, but we've moved on to pie and drinks.  But I can prepare you something more substantial?  Zilm'kach?  Gladst?  Pipius claw?"

And then, his carefully cultivated demeanor was shattered.  A Savi.  His blue eyes shifted once more to fierce gold as the desire to tear the alien apart threatened to overwhelm his senses.  The creature, seemingly realizing its error in navigation, turned and departed without a word.  As Rutherford made a hasty excuse to Martok, a bekk declared his interest in pursuing.  Deacon, too, wished to pursue, but likely not for any similar reason.  He stamped another mug against the bar to get the bekk's attention, as well as any other who might be so inclined as to pursue the Savi.  "This is no time to sate idle curiosity," his tone growing more steady as he regained his composure, knowing well that this would be another topic for his next counseling session, no doubt.  "Martok has come to feast with us and you would dishonor him by leaving?"

He leaned forward to the chancellor once more, "I had hoped to keep a little in stock since so many of the crew had requested it before our arrival, but I managed to secure a barrel of Chech'tluth that I could tap if you would honor us with a toast?"
 
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