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[2374] Starfleet Academy - The Stars In Our Eyes

[ Cadet Krystal Tancredi | Shared Cadet Quarters | Starfleet Academy | San Fransisco | Earth ] Attn: @Numen
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“Ya want me t' whut again?!?” said Krystal, staring incredulously at the Academy Instructor.

“Last I checked cadet,” said the man indifferently, “your hearing was not in any way impaired. You have your orders. I suggest you be on your way.”

He turned and walked away from her after handing her a PADD with the location of this Cadet Douglas as well as the action plan and development she was supposed to follow. Stamping her foot on the grass, she muttered, “Vulcans!”

Nothing to it but to just get it over with. Maybe he'll be annoyed with her and ask for someone else to be a tutor; Lord knew, Krystal was the last person anyone would want for some kind of tutor in anything. Her accent notwithstanding, there was also the matter of her attitude and beligerence. Granted, she'd toned down significantly ever since her talk with Tristan Kendrick, and having a direction helped; namely Tactical Conn. It was a lot of work, and as the years went on, her workload increased tenfold. It was all the redhead could do to keep up with the tasks; the sooner she was off Earth, the better. She felt no affinity or connection with the birthplace of humanity, and looked forward to travelling through the stars, exploring the great unknown.

Even with the Dominion War raging on, it couldn't last forever, right? Eventually, it would end, and she could only hope the Federation was still around by then, and still upholding the original ideals of exploration and discovery. To be a part of it, she needed to ace her classes, and now, on top of her regular workload, she needed to help this Khorin Douglas. He was a half-Klingon; well that was interesting. Krystal's early childhood involved learning the Klingon ways and culture from the old farmer who was actually a former ambassador to the Klingon Empire. He was the reason she survived her childhood.

Maybe this wasn't so bad.

She reached his shared quarters and chimed, announcing her presence, adding, “Ah ain't got all day, so ya best open this door if ya still want t' have one tonight!”

Re: [2374] Starfleet Academy - The Stars In Our Eyes

Reply #1 –
[ Cadet Khorin Douglas |Shared Cadet Quarters | Starfleet Academy | San Fransisco | Earth]
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“"Khorin"
Snort
"Khorin"
Snort
"Khorin"
Snort
"Khorin, while I can live with your erratic sleep patterns, I think your visit is not so tolerant with them," insinuated S'vec in his monotone Vulcan voice tone. The only answer he got was a drowsy grunt and the dangerously loud crunch of the bed as the half-Klingon turned on himself to face the wall, showing his back to his annoying roommate. The medical student stared for a moment at the Klingon's huge back, his breathing didn't change in the least but a subtle twitch in his right eyebrow betrayed his stoic facade. The young Vulcan stood up and looked at the door, which shook as if it was being hit with a battering ram. With studied calm, he went to his neat half of the room and opened a trunk, took out a smaller box and a mat embroidered with complex swirling pattern. He opened the box briefly to check its contents and, satisfied with his check, placed it next to the mat under his arm. With three calculated strides, the Vulcan crossed the room and open the door to found himself face to face with a red-haired cadet. S'Vec offered a Vulcan salute before enunciating "I need to meditate", staring with his impassive blue eyes at the cadet who had been pounding on the door. Without waiting for an answer, the vulcan circumnavigated around the cadet and lost himself in the busy corridors, without turning the sight nor once.

The room's door was left wide open, showing a clean and efficiently tidy left side. The bed didn't have a single wrinkle on its neat surface, the padds were stacked in such a way that they seemed to defy gravity, but all their edges are aligned. The walls were clean, without any photo or poster that said anything about the tenant in that side of the room. Right on the opposite side, as if someone had drawn a perfect line in the middle of the room there was ... a disaster after a tornado. Diverse clothes were piled on the floor, a cascade of padds spilled from the table, several glasses and bottles were distributed anarchically around or on the table. A mountain of wrappings of what looked like chocolate bars and other sweet snacks was stacked unstably at the foot of the bed. Over this one, there was the enormous mass of Khorin, the bedding piled in a wrinkled up ball that barely covered him completely. With a sleepy grunt, the hybrid got rid of the sheets, revealing that he was only dressed in bright orange boxing shorts with a kind of black bird stamped in the crotch. The half-Klingon yawned in a way that would make African lions pale and blinked a few times before his eyes managed to focus on Tancredi's silhouette. "Hey ginger," he growled as a greeting, a dozy half side grin in his face. "I think we don't know each other …"

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Re: [2374] Starfleet Academy - The Stars In Our Eyes

Reply #2 –
[ Cadet Krystal Tancredi | Shared Cadet Quarters | Starfleet Academy | San Fransisco | Earth ] Attn: @Numen
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“Hey! D'ya teenk Ah'm fuckin' around?” said Krystal impatiently, and she kicked at the door with her steel-toed boots, pouted at the door, and kicked it again, harder. “Khorin Douglas, Son of Margon of House Mo'Kai, you better open dis door or bah thundah Ah'm gunna...!”

She was interrupted mid-tirade by the doors opening, only, the person greeting her was a blue-eyed Vulcan. Face red with fury and absolutely no patience, the tiny cadet growled at the Vulcan's passing and she noticed she'd drawn a gaggle of onlookers. Staring back at them defiantly, she said, “What're y'all starin' at?!? Aint'cha ever seen an angry Texan b'fore? SCRAM!”

Most, if not all the gawkers actually complied, partly to the girl's surprise, but partly she wondered if she was beginning to gain a reputation. Deciding not to waste more time on that, she turned to examine the quarters a little more closely, and arched an eyebrow at the stark contrast between the two residents. Both her eyebrows shot up when the half-Klingon threw aside his sheets and greeted her.

Ginger?

She plotted how she was going to cook the man in a frying pan.

The girl took one step forward, entering the quarters uninvited, letting the doors hiss shut behind her, and almost threw the room back into darkness. Never taking her hazel eyes off the other cadet, she stood stock still for a few seconds, PADD clutched against her chest, before she suddenly sucked in a deep breath, and then bellowed with a volume that defied her petite build, “AND IF YA DIDN'T GO AN' FALL BEHIND IN YER GRADES YA WOULD'VE GONE ON FER TH' REST OF YER SORRY LIFE NOT KNOWIN' ME!!!”

She took another breath, and then went on, as she stormed over, none-too-kindly shoving the PADD into the half-Klingon's arms, “Ah'm Krystal Tancredi, an' Ah'm yer tutor! Says 'ere ye've been transfered from Security to Tac Conn? WHAH ARE YA STILL LYIN' ON YER ASS?!? GET TH' FUCK UP ALREADY!”

Her hand was drawn back and held high, as if ready to strike, and hard.

Re: [2374] Starfleet Academy - The Stars In Our Eyes

Reply #3 –
[ Cadet Khorin Douglas |Shared Cadet Quarters | Starfleet Academy | San Fransisco | Earth]
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"Woah woah Ginger, easy! With all the shouting it almost seems like you're trying to flirt with me impersonating a klingon lady. Nice approach by the way" teased Khorin leaning on one elbow to slightly lift his torso from the surface of the mattress, but without making any movement that showed he had any intention to get out of bed or to put on on his feet. The half-Klingon cocked his head and frowned, trying to unravel the thick redhead's accent. Just when his dark eyes lit up with the sudden realization of what she wanted to say, the other cadet threw him a padd that landed violently on his bare chest. Although it was far from being an especially painful gesture, he must admit that the young woman possessed more strength than what her small structure suggested. "Have you already started throwing things at me? And you threat me with a smack? For Kahless' sake, okay, I guess it's time that i begin to recite poetry and such " he keep joking without acknowledge the woman's words, not because he hadn't heard them, but because the loud and violent introduction of the self-named Krystal Tancredi amused him. The young hybrid's smile widened, implying that he knew perfectly well that her attitude had nothing to do with a flirtatious demeanor, but he didn't care. He was still upset about his transfer of security to ... whatever that new Starfleet department was called,Tacc Conn or whatever. He didn't want to pilot over armed runabouts, he want to FIGHT. Tancredi was not to blame for his disapointment, but she gave him a perfect excuse to waste time and keep loafing around a while longer.

So he finally got to his feet, the padd firmly gripped in one hand, as if it were a precious object and the other hand holding Kristal's threatening one. But, above all, his face showed a mocking grin when he loomed over the petite woman.He cleared his throat a couple of times before opening his mouth again. When his voice rang, his volume was equal to or higher than what Krystal employed when she stomped in the room

“Oh 'Ginger' Tancrei
qIj ram nobmey jIH
tlhab le’
maH ghoSmey
nargh ghol’eb jaj
Deghqo’ naQmey
ghaj moj tach
DeSmey vIram “

He recited with his deep voice until it made the walls reverberate. One of S'Vec's padds  slid to the ground from its pristine pile with a sound that predicted a certain break, while the mountain of wrappings suffered a sudden avalanche, spreading them to cross the invisible line that divided the quarter in two. Khorin let escape a well-meaning belly laugh, without giving the slightest translation of the poem and shook his wild, disheveled hair. "Okay, Kristal 'Ginger' Tancredi, so you'll be my tutor? I accept it, but before we get down to work on whatever boring stuff you have in mind, I need to eat something. This figure is not easily maintained, " Khorin proclaimed patting his firm stomach, which roared in response. As loud as would sound the one of someone who hasn't eaten in weeks. "Do you fancy a shake and cinnamon roll? Your breakfast's on me too of course, I'm starving. "


qIj ram nobmey jIH            Black night gives
tlhab le’                              special freedom
maH ghoSmey                   to us coming
nargh ghol’eb jaj               escaping oppression of day
Deghqo’ naQmey              into eternities
ghaj moj tach                    which are harbored
DeSmey vIram                   in the arms of mother night.

Re: [2374] Starfleet Academy - The Stars In Our Eyes

Reply #4 –
[ Cadet Krystal Tancredi | Shared Cadet Quarters | Starfleet Academy | San Fransisco | Earth ] Attn: @Numen
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Flirting? FLIRTING?!?

She exploded at him with the force of a starship's quantum torpedo, and he thought she was flirting. Her instinctual thought was absolute murder of the hybrid as her very short fuse was getting the better of her, and she was preparing the ultimate tirade when the PADD she'd tossed him to refer clued her in fully, and the rest of what the cadet said earlier finally registered in her overheated brain. The lessons of her dearest friend came to mind about Klingon culture and demeanour. By all accounts, Krystal was indeed fulfilling every bit of the basic Klingon mating rituals. Throwing things, being violent, and shouting like a mad dog. No wonder he thought she was coming on to him.

Now he seized her upraised hand and that was when she was quickly reminded of a few important things in regards to Klingons. One, they were easily three to four times stronger than the average human; in Krystal's case, due to years of abuse and general malnourishment, they'd be five to seven times stronger. Two, Klingons were ridiculously stubborn and bullheaded; granted, Khorin was half-human, but he seemed to take on more of his Klingon heritage than human. Three, in Klingon mating rituals, the males recited poetry!

The horror, the horror.

Her mind was a little panicked due to how vulnerable she felt with him holding her arm like that, and she felt ridiculously exposed. “Let GO of mah ha-”

He started reciting poetry!!! It was a classic one too. Of a sort...

His voice rivalled or outdid hers in volume, and her face had contorted to a mixture of disgust, horror, and violation. His proximity, his breath, and his volume meant she had been sprayed on, and partially deafened. He let go of her hand and the limb swung lifelessly by her side, as she stared at the half-Klingon in disbelief. It took a while for her to register what was going on, and to wipe at her face with one sleeve, while she processed what he was telling her. “Th-that's...Krystal...no, Ah mean, that's Cadet Tancredi...t'ya.”

She said that without real conviction, while she tried to figure out if she wanted to eat at all now. His stomach's growl was terrifying. But she eventually recovered, and said, “Beans, bacon, whiskey 'n' lard...better make it a double whiskey...it's gunna be one of those days...”

All this time, she'd never taken her wide-eyed stare off from the wall where she'd been looking in disbelief. Khorin was going to kill her, or she him...whichever came first.

She also finally realized why she was being assigned to him as a tutor. He was going to be a fellow pilot, not because his grades were going down as she thought, but because he had a high aptitude for flying and was much better suited to that than becoming another grunt on the ground.

Re: [2374] Starfleet Academy - The Stars In Our Eyes

Reply #5 –
[ Cadet Khorin Douglas |Shared Cadet Quarters | Starfleet Academy | San Fransisco | Earth]
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"Beans, bacon, whiskey and lard ..." Khorin repeated in disbelief, looking up and down at Tancredi, not really believing that the girl could embed such a feast in her small frame. "Are you sure you aren't part klingon ? " He asked, still skeptical about her human stomach capacities. He had seen his very human mother gobble up more copious and 'alive' meals without blinking, but he knew that was due in large part to the long time she had lived in Qo'noS. Not wanting to deal with the feelings that the Klingon Homeworld memories gave him, the hybrid went to one of the piles of clothes spilt in his side of the room and crouched next to it, turning his back on the other cadet. "In any case, I think you need a bit more of sugar in that breakfast Missy," he commented idly as he rummaged through the pile to find the various pieces of an Academy uniform with a security yellow shoulder jacket. Khorin sniffed the garments one by one, checking that they were clean or that, in the worst case, the level of odor and stains was socially acceptable. At least in human terms, the Klingons had much looser social norms with respect to body odor. When he was satisfied with his choice, he tossed the selected garments onto the bed and began moving bottles and objects from the table, scattering a good part of them in the spotless section of his roomie. One of the bottles overturned, spilling some sour smelling dregs onto one of the recently fallen Padd. Khorin didn't even notice that fact, because he had found what he was looking for. The half Klingon took the object with surprising delicacy, and cradled it in his hands before laying it on the jacket with reverence. It was a brooch with a shape similar to a 'Y' with sharp edges and a rough surface. The object gave the impression of antiquity and having been carried by different people for a long time, with some areas of its surface burnished by use.

"Unless you're willing to bite my cheek and finish what you've started, I'd suggest you turn around while I dress up. I'm not shy, it's just in case ... you know, you can't control yourself or something " He teased with a cocky half smile in his face. Indifferently to Tancredi's response, he got rid of his orange shorts and the jockstrap and began to dress with the clothes he had selected. Once he was stuffed into the uniform, he fasten the badge to his left arm, slightly below the shoulder seam of the garment. The commite that set rules about uniforms hadn't yet resolved if his request to wear the symbol of his House could be accepted for cultural reasons, but Khorin cared little, and used it despite having repeatedly indicated that he couldn't carry it with the Academy outfit. Margon had given him that badge the very last time they meet. He would wear it no matter what they told him.
Khorin put a huge arm around Tancredi's shoulders in a half-hug way and took them both out of his shared quarters. "So, first, breakfast, and then what, Missus Tancredi? Flight simulator until our eyes fall from their sockets? "

Re: [2374] Starfleet Academy - The Stars In Our Eyes

Reply #6 –
[ Cadet Krystal Tancredi | Shared Cadet Quarters | Starfleet Academy | San Fransisco | Earth ] Attn: @Numen
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“Do Ah look even remotely Kling-on to ya?!?” asked Krystal, her tone exasperated. She frowned at his suggestion she add more sugar to her palate, but a quick look at the horrendous room told her a few things: judging from the wrappers around his bed, the big lug had a sweet tooth. This prompted a Vulcan eyebrow arch from the Texan girl. His next comment had her lips parting to speak or ask what he meant exactly when she had the misfortune of finding out. She spun around with such haste she nearly gave herself a whiplash, “OH MAH GAWD, HAVE YA NO SHAME AT ALL?!? WHAT IF AH OPEN TH' DOOR FOR EVERYONE TO SEE YER LONG JOHN?!? Geez louize, man!”

Bite his cheek? Did he mean bite his bum-bum? Oh he had something else coming, the girl decided she was going to do it when he least expected it.

Wiping her brow and strands of hair from her face, she suddenly let out a breath of air, “Hwoof!” a massive arm had wrapped around her shoulders and guided her out of the quarters, “Oh you bet yer arse till yer eyes fall out, buckaroo.” said Krystal fiercely as she shook his arm off her shoulders and glared up at him even as she followed him to the academy mess hall. When they arrived, she watched him make his order, and nearly went into anaphylactic shock at what he constituted as breakfast. By comparison, she felt her meal was a more balanced diet, even with the whiskey.

While she ate, she was decidedly more conversational, mostly while she was chewing food or drinking, and she listened to him express how he preferred to be in Security, and she immediately applied the nickname of “Groundhog” to him, since he wanted so much to be a mud-marcher rather than a flyboy, but Starfleet seemed to believe his talents and skills were wasted in Security. She almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

“Chillin' tahm's over, Groundhog.” said Krystal as she kicked back from her seat and yanked the half-Klingon with all her strength, and all but dragged him directly to the simulator rooms, “Ah don't care what ya prefer, but bah Jiminy, ye're gonna ace this or so help me God, Ah'll flah ya 'round th' planet with ya strapped t' the outside of th' shuttle.”

The girl was rough around the edges, rude, irrational and beyond hot-tempered, but she did know how to fly...like a maniac, and yet there was a odd skill to her madness, and even with staff and academy professors and trainers monitoring, the redhead opened Khorin up to a whole new universe of expletives and swearing, “Ah said BANK TA STARBOARD, ya tribble-lovin' ground-pounder! That's RAHT! MAH RAHT! TURN TURN TURN! FAHKIN' HELL! WHERE ARE YA EYES AT, GROUNDHOG? YE'RE GONNA CRASH INTO TH' STARSHIP!!!”

For all her fury, she seemed to manage to teach something...so she believed. When the half-Klingon came out of the simulator, she was standing right at the entrance, looking calm and placid, hands planted on her slender hips, “Not too bad, Groundhog. At least ya didn't crash raht outta th' hangar.” She walked him back to his quarters in relatively silence, and just before he could turn to go back into his quarters, she grabbed him by the collars and turned him to face her, then rested her palms against his broad chest, looking as seductive as she possibly could, “Ya know when ya said t' baht ya cheek?” said the girl, licking her lips and tugging at his chin to bring him lower as she rose on her tip-toes.

When he was close enough, she suddenly lunged up at the last moment and bit him on his cheek, not hard enough to inflict bleeding or even any real pain, but he would feel that for sure, and she walked away, hips swaying, and she tilted her head back to look at him, winked and disappeared. It was hard to say that they became friends, to any casual observer, as she was regularly being rough or cussing him out, or pretending to be nice then she'd pound him without warning, though she looked like a kitten attacking a mountain, and it was unlikely he could even feel the hits she inflicted on him, and if anyone really looked, it seemed like her heart wasn't quite in it.

This was the norm for the next few months, they spent time eating, talking, discussing flight maneuvers, and training, when one evening, Krystal felt the need to blow off steam, and she showed up at Khorin's quarters, dressed to kill, and she said, “Ah'm headin' inta town, there's a peachy keen place where we can hang. Ya wanna rahd wit' meh?”

Re: [2374] Starfleet Academy - The Stars In Our Eyes

Reply #7 –
[ Cadet Khorin Douglas |Shared Cadet Quarters | Starfleet Academy | San Fransisco | Earth]
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Her very vocal state of constant irascibility amused Khorin more than he was willing to admit. Tancredi overreacted to every action of the half klingon so dramatically that he wasn't sure if she would suffer a nervous breakdown or she would try to kill him before they reached the mess hall.Tease others were a common Klingon interaction and while Khorin had grown more and more used to human interactions in the last years, he kept preferring to more brusque ones and closer of what he recall from his Homeworld. And the petite woman looked more than ready to battle in every single interchange they shared.He was delighted.

Somehow, they managed to reach the canteen without spilling blood and soon Khorin had in front of him what he considered a light breakfast: five chocolate-coffe mufins, six strawberry pop tards, four banana french toast, a couple of cinnamon rolls the size of his fist and a redcurrant and raspberry smoothie extra sweet. For a moment, the hybrid hesitated to add an american coffee to the mix, to brighten him up a tad, but he quickly discarded the idea. He was only able to take that concoction if he added enough sugar to create an island in the cup and preferred to consume that amount of glucose in the shape of food.In addition, caffeine made him extra excitable. Khorin was an expert in giving bad first impressions, but he knew that one of the worst images in Earth was a half klingon with a sugar-caffeine rush. That had only happened once and his own mother had forced him to swear on his honor that it would never happen again.

As both were consuming the different dishes, Tancredi seemed to relax slightly, and they could speak as civilized people for a while, which provoked mixed feelings in the hybrid. Even more so when after explaining her the reasons about his distaste for his new assignment, she applied him the nickname of 'Groundhog'. He understood the joke about his preference to belong to the ground troops, but he saw himself as quite different from a hairy chubby creature who spent half its life sleeping and the other looking for food. He preferred a life with more fight on it. And women. He was a predator after all.

One way or another when they started the real training, te reason why they had assigned Tancredi as his tutor for, Khorin discovered two things. First, she was utterly bonkers. She was thoughtless even in Khorin's reckless standards to the point of being almost suicidal. The second thing was that, with Krystal as his element leader, flight a fighter was very different adventure from what he had experienced so far. The thrill of the fight was almost the same as a personal duel, the battlelust as intense as in a hand-to-hand combat. And despite his obvious shortcomings as a rookie, Khorin handled himself quite well. Maybe, after all, he had the right skill set to wear the white shirt of a flyboy. He would never acknowledge it in front of the woman, stubborn as a targ as he was. In the same way that he didn't show the satisfaction that her teasing praise produced in his pride. Maybe he puffed his chest a bit. But Khorin puffed his chest almost simply for breathing, so he supposed the gesture went unnoticed.

After all the insults and shouts, their walk back to his quarters, late in the afternoon, went on in surprising silence. In front of the door of his shared room, she stopped and showed a playful and seductive behavior that brought cocky grin to his face. She kept teasing, biting his cheek, to push him later and leave, wiggling her hips. Khorin stared as she left with an idiot's face, until a group of students hid her from his gaze. Only then did he enter his room.

S'Vec was there, stacking his Padd again. The two sides of the room were perfectly tidied under the vulcan parameters. Possibly the medical student had suffered a kind of nervous attack as soon as he'd returned and watch the disaster Khorin had left behind him. The hybrid didn't take the hint and threw himself on the bed, undoing it almost instantly as his back touched the bedspread. He leaned over to search for something under the bed and pulled out his secret stash of chocolate bars, which he began to munch almost instantly. [color=silver]"You've no idea how have been my day, dude"[/color] He commented with awe between mouthfuls. S'vec didn't even turn, but his rigid stance seemed to grow even more rigid. "Indeed I have no knowledge about the activities you have done during the course of your day and I have no interest in solving this lack of knowledge" he replied with his usual monotone voice. "Right now my interest is focused on knowing if an unbalance in my concentration could affect my telepathic abilities in such a way that they can cause you some type of permanent neuronal alteration." He continued in the same disinterested tone. Khorin stopped his hand halfway between his stash and his mouth to stare at the Vulcan. "Woah, woah wait, rephrase that so I could fully understand it... you could lose the control of your vulcan voodoo and then you could make me something... bad?" the hybrid said. "If you persist in keep this place with inadequate levels of order and cleanliness, it will certainly affect you negatively," S'Vec confirmed cryptically, tilting his head slightly in apology. "You mean ... You mean you could turn me into an idiot if i keep driving you crazy?" Khorin asked, blinking in disbelief. "I am not sure if your intelligence levels could go down even more .But certainly there could even be other more unpleasant physical consequences” Affirmed the vulcan just before kept doing the activity in which he was previously involved. Suddenly, Khorin lost his appetite, swallowed, looked with renewed respect at his roomie, and then picked up the wrapper he had thrown on the floor to deposit in the bin.




Soon Krystal and Khorin got used to a routine of classes, training, shared meals and playful banter. On many occasions the attitude of the texan girl was especially confusing for the half-Klingon, who wasn't sure if she used a deep knowledge of the Klingon rituals to mock him or she definitely flirted. Finally he decided to discard any gesture that was not straightforward a flirt and point it as a friendly behaviour. Crystal clear. So the day that Tancredi appeared before him in a short black dress that shone every time she moved with an invitation for a visit to the city, Khorin was unable to answer at first. "Umm, yeah, sure, lemme change" He babbled before closing the door in her nose. Minutes later he left the room dressed in an outfit that made him look more punk and disheveled than usual. "Ok, I'm ready!" He said almost instantly, as if he hadn't spent a time out of the sight and barely minutes after he'd left almost without saying a coherent word, his bravado again where it should. "We celebrate something special? Or are you go to hunt men, missy" He joked without hiding a look at the woman from top to bottom. Before she answered, he took her hand and hung it on his arm, as if they were an old couple strolling in an even older park. Giving her some surprisingly delicate pats with his calloused hand, Khorin gave him an eye and added. "Remember me that I must check the poor wretch with whom you flirt before you go to kill, not every dude have my patience." As they advanced through the corridors towards the exit, several cadets stood looking at the strange pair they were, the contrast between them as marked as that of night and day.

Re: [2374] Starfleet Academy - The Stars In Our Eyes

Reply #8 –
[ Cadet Krystal Tancredi | Shared Cadet Quarters | Starfleet Academy | San Fransisco | Earth ] Attn: @Numen
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Krystal's face dropped a little when the door nearly clipped her nose off, but she was almost frozen to the spot, willing herself not to shout or swear...for the moment. She knew she very likely confused the heck out of Khorin with her bizarre attitude and antics. That was mostly because she was confused herself. At first, she resented being assigned as a tutor to the Half-Klingon, and hoped to drive him away by her rude and obnoxious behaviour as well as being particularly loud and sending mixed signals everywhere. That way, he would complain to someone and they'd maybe decide Krystal was not trainer material at all and assign someone else for Khorin to be a problem to. Maybe someone like Dennings. Lord knew he loved dishing out instructions and advice like he was the founder of Tactical Conn.

The door flew open again, and Krystal appeared to still be in the same position as before, but she moved her head back so she could look up at the tall man. It was the simplicity of his ways, his manner, and his style, that made the girl into a glutton for punishment. The reason she herself hadn't gone to request a change of assistant tutor. He definitely got on her nerves, but she was already short-tempered to begin with, and a hothead with a penchant for aggression and violence. And for all her temper tantrums, he would laugh them off and sometimes goad her more to really make her blow her top, and still he would never actually give her what she hoped to get out of him, a real rise, and a real fight. But she knew Klingon customs and ways, and she also knew he definitely took after his Klingon parent more, and she found herself more often than not, voluntarily engaging in the Klingon flirting customs, and messing with him, because, and she would vehemently swear she never thought it, she was starting to really like the big lug.

This was the reason why she barely stiffened when he took her hand and hung it in the crook of his elbow, and she made no attempt to pull her hand away, even when they passed other people, other pilots, and certainly classmates who knew them both. Oh, tongues were going to be wagging tonight for sure. But oddly, the Texas redhead didn't care. In fact, she kind of liked the thought. “Celebratin'?” said Krystal, “Ah guess we maht be.”

She grinned evilly, “Hon, we're definitely gonna hunt fer men, but not in th' way ye're thinkin' Ah am.”

She didn't offer more input after that, not during the ride to the club, and not as they approached the place, which looked like a cross between swanky and sleazy...it was...sweazy.

[ Rising Sunset | San Francisco | Earth ]

As they approached the club, a slight, waifish young lady about Krystal's own age bumped into them, somehow tripping over her own feet on her way out, and in shock she squeaked, and for a moment, the redhead thought the girl had lit up like a ray of light. "Oh my goodness, I'm terribly sorry!" said the girl, "I'm so careless...uhm...excuse me, sorry."

She made her way past them, walking awkwardly almost on tip-toe.

“That was weird,” said Krystal, staring at the retreating girl, “D'ya think she's actually human?”

She didn't dwell on it any longer, and steered her big friend towards the entrance. The interior was filled with all manner of beings, the music was a little loud, and sounded odd, almost jarring. Some of the patrons certainly looked to be of the rougher crowd, and the redhead was eyeing them with a keen interest, but there was a cold look in her eyes, something Khorin might have seen when the girl was genuinely murderous, and not just messing around. She did say they were going to hunt men. There were also a few people from the academy, mostly cloistered around each other, as if wary. Two Tac Conn cadets walked past Khoring and Krystal, with one of them spotting the redhead and they began to hurry along, away from them, one of them saying loudly enough for other cadets to pick up: “Oh shit, it's Tancredi! We better get outta here!”

If Krystal had heard him, she didn't seem to notice, and instead turned to look up at Khorin, giving him a warm smile that offset the deadly look she had earlier, yet something of a dangerous glint remained in her eyes, “C'mon, Groundhog, let's get ourselves somethin' nasty! Whaddaya lahk? Ah love that this place has actual bartendahs an' cooks, 'stead o' jus' Replicatahs.”

Re: [2374] Starfleet Academy - The Stars In Our Eyes

Reply #9 –
[ Cadet Khorin Douglas |Rising Sunset | San Fransisco | Earth]
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Attn: @Triage

Krystal's strange answer left the young hybrid blinking in puzzlement, but knowing the redhead as he began to know her, he knew that digging deeper into her motives would only make her dug in her heels even more. So he simple let it be. That night, in that sequin covered dress, she looked simple stunning. In the eyes of the klingon she resembled a sugar coated dessert. And he had always being sweet-toothed. So in spite of his decision of not to put his cock where he had the pot, he felt tempted of hitting on the texan. That is why he spent most of their ride to the pub she had choosed teasing her. Sometimes even in rhyme. He was used to fool around her, that she probably didn't notice the change. Maybe she just noticed that his cocky grin was even wider, his boasting even more arrogant.

For better or for worse, the trip was tremendously short, and soon they found themselves in front of the place, and Khorin made sure to open her door and escort her to his arm to the front door, in the most old fashioned way of human gentlemanliness. His jeering smirk and his shaggy mane devaluated his performance, but he didn't care. And probably she didn't care either. The show ended when a petite girl, tiny in the eyes of the Klingon bumped against them, rushing to apologize and get away quickly, as if he had committed an unpardonable sin. The hybrid didn't give the most importance until Krystal asked his opinion about the species of the girl. He turned around to look at her more closely and, for a moment, had the impression that she ... sparkled. Frowning his thick brow, he took a closer look at her ... and all he saw was a shy girl walking away from them. "I'm not sure" he acknowledged. "But she looks too dull and shy for my tastes, so don't be jealous" added with a shit-eating grin in his face. The answer he got was being dragged by the redhead into the pub.

The interior of the place was crowded, loud music echoed around, interspersed with almost shouted conversations. It smelled of strong alcohol, cheap cologne and a spices that the half-Klingon wasn't able to identify, but that irritated his nostrils. Khorin wrinkled his nose and curled his lips in a displeasure grimace, but kept paving his way to the counter with Krystal on his heels. Some of the patrons responded to the cadet's nudges with ill-mannered gestures, most of whom cowered when they recognized his Klingon blood and manners. However, several seemed to be emboldened and only the presence of Tancredi prevented the malicious looks and shoves from ending up in something worse. "hab sosli' Quch " spat someone close to Khorin's ear, bathing his face with saliva. The aspiring pilot turned to face whoever dared to insult him, but the other cadet took the lead and dragged him away from the drunkard. He got carried away, trying to placate the rage burst that threaten to take over him. He took a quick look on Krystal and found a cold look in her eyes, the same one she used to have when she was more than ready to try the more crazy manoeuvres. Khorin frowned again, asking himself if he should worry about their welfare. But before Khorin could ponder the redhead's motivations, they reached the bar and Krystal spoke him another time, all bubbly and smily, but still with that murderous sparkle in her eyes. "Did you remember that junk we mixed some months ago? How do you call that, Khorin's punch? Cola, rum, whiskey and bloodwine ... do you fancy one? " He replied to her inquiry. As soon as she replied, he yelled the order to the bartender at the top of his lungs. In a few minutes, the half Klingon had in his hands a liter tall glass of the punch, adorned with a ridiculously small fuchsia-colored umbrella. He raised the glass to Tancredi's direction and took a long drink that left the container half empty.

Khorin emptied the glass in a second gulp and hurried to ask for another round. "What is that?" Asked a flirtatious voice on his left. The question came from a woman in a dress that left little to the imagination. She looked at him shamelessly from top to bottom as she fiddled with a lock of her hair, entangling it between her long fingers.  "This," he answered, raising his glass in a greeting. "It's the second best thing that's going to happen to you tonight," he replied with one of his crooked grins blooming in his face. She fanned her lashes, playing the fool and took a step closer to him, resting her bronzed hand on his forearm. "Oh? And what's the best thing that's going to happen to me today, in your opinion? " She asked faking a sheepishly tone.  She knew her answer beforehand, but was willing to play the game of the younger hybrid. "Myself, of course" He answered with a purring tone. She giggled affectedly and closed the distance between them, letting her hand climb up the cadet's arm until it clung to his defined biceps. The woman behaved with an artificiality that wasn't entirely to the liking of the Klingon, but she was pleasing to the eye and her intention was clear. Probably none of them would remember the other's name the next morning, but Khorin didn't care. It was a straight forward situation, one that he would not need to worry about or ponder about and that would end as a good memory. Not like Krystal. Krystal was complicated. And half the time he still didn't know what to expect from her. So despite his initial thoughts, he chose the unknown woman over her. It was less problematic. A easy catch. When he was ready to start flirting more blatantly, the Klingon felt an insistent tap on the shoulder. Frustrated, he frowned and turned slowly on his heels to see who dared bother him right then.


hab sosli' Quch → your mother has a smooth forehead

Re: [2374] Starfleet Academy - The Stars In Our Eyes

Reply #10 –
[ Cadet Krystal Tancredi | Rising Sunset | San Francisco | Earth ] Attn: @Numen
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Poor little sweet Khorin, was the thought that ran through Krystal's head most of the time. She knew he couldn't even begin to guess at the agenda she really had for coming here tonight. But she did hesitate and feel guilty about inviting him without telling him her true intentions. It wouldn't be fair if he got into real trouble. She didn't entirely care what happened to her, but she was coming to care for the half-Klingon, and he didn't deserve to suffer for her self-destructive tendencies. But at the same time, the more irrational part of her believed he would actually get a kick out of it all, and maybe even have a boatload of fun. What was the worst that could happen? His sugar-addiction aside, the man's a walking mountain.

He acted like a real gentleman throughout...well, a gentleman who was also a pretty bad stand-up comic. But he was so bad, he was actually good.

When a particularly obnoxious individual told Khorin that his mother had a smooth forehead, she decided to pull him away from that one. Besides, wasn't his mother actually human? Therefore possessing a smooth forehead for real? But either way, it was too soon for this. They needed to be at least two times more drunk than  they'd ever been on campus before she would execute her master plan. The Khorin Punch...of course he'd want that! It was like mixing murder and fun into one drink and then smashing your brains out with a brick of gold-pressed latinum wrapped in yamok sauce...while you drank it.

“Let's get four of those.” said Krystal. She was going to take some of that crazy. Her's was obviously made safe-for-humans since the Bloodwine was too toxic for them, and real bloodwine actually had blood in it. The redhead was crazy, but she wasn't that crazy...yet.

The first drink was planted in front of her, the bartender shooting her a curious look, before walking away, and muttering to another, having finally recognized her from a report pertaining to an incident at another bar recently. They weren't going to be disappointed. She downed the drink so fast that the kick only came a full second after the drink. She felt dizzy, she felt like she was on fire, and she felt like she was going to die...who the fuck drank that much sugar in one sitting?!? In other words, she'd never felt more alive than right then. Spinning around unsteadily she leaned back against the bar, eyes scanning for the right target. She was gonna start a fight, and she was gonna get hospitalized...maybe killed, whichever came first. She only wondered if she should keep her distance from Khorin, lest he get caught up in it all, or throw him to the lions with herself?

Apparently, Khorin helped make the decision for her.

Some cheap two-bit slut was putting moves on him that was so obvious a blind Betazoid would have seen it without his telepathy. Thanks to the combination of her second drink of the evening and feelings she didn't even know she had, she absolutely, undeniably, hated the stupid bitch putting her arms around Khorin's fine, firm biceps, and those fine, firm abs of his. If she had even less restraint, she would commit murder right then and there. Drown the bitch in Khorin Punch. As it was she was going to royally mess up her "pretty" face, see how many dates she'd get with half her teeth missing. She tapped on Khorin's shoulder, slinking with surprising grace, though still obviously drunk, and threw a punch that connected so hard, the sound was almost the same as a glass shattering from a hammer impact. The woman flew into a table belonging to an Andorian and Tellarite patron.

A smile played on the redhead's lips as she folded her arms over her breasts and she looked challengingly at the angry aliens. “Whaddaya get when ya toss a slut ona table wit a angry blueskin an' a pig-snout?” asked Krystal, intending to provoke the two, “A choking hog going blue on the slut's dick!”

Re: [2374] Starfleet Academy - The Stars In Our Eyes

Reply #11 –
[ Cadet Khorin Douglas |Rising Sunset | San Fransisco | Earth]
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Everything happened so quickly that Khorin couldn't explain later how it had begun. First that insistent tap in his shoulder that made him turn on his heels. Someone slipping away between his arm and his side, out of his visual range. A crack of knuckles hitting something wet, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of  broken bones or teeth. A table torn down. Shattered glasses.An almost unintelligible bragging in Krystal thick accented voice. Two chairs squeaking as they were dragged across the floor. When the increasingly drunken hybrid managed to turn around himsel, the only thing his eyes saw was a shapeless figure knocked down on the ground and how a tellarite fist fit a straight punch to Krystal's jaw.The blow projected her head back and made stepped backward a couple of strides.When she lifted her face again there was a smile on her lips. And blood. They had hurt her. Those PetaQ had dared to attack his mentor. Something that had long been tightly tied, was unleashed inside the klingon's chest, and without a hint of racional thinking, he rushed towards Tancredi's attacker. It was like stare the begin of an avalanche, hardly a small, nondescript movement that evolves inexorably in a destructive catastrophe. Before Khorin could realize what he was doing, he had reduced the tellarite and was using his ugly face to redecorate the establishment's wall on the simple basis of smash one into the other. However, the initial shock at Douglas's first attack was short-lived, and the Andorian threw himself at him, pulling his long hair from behind and hammering a fist into his parietal. Everything inside and around Khorin seemed to tremble and buzz at the same time, so he released the man with porcine features and clasped his temples, with an outraged roar broke out. The Andorian didn't seem intimidated by the demonstration of Klingon wrath and continued with his attack, taking advantage of his smaller stature to deliver a fierce flurry of blows to the Khorin's stomach and liver.When he recovered enough, the cadet took advantage of a slip of the blue man and grabbed him by the head, raised him precariously and to threw him carelessly to the other end of the pub.The Andorian tried to stand up and resume the fight, but fell back on his rear, his balance as battered as the cut stem of his right antenna. The blue-skinned man put his hand on his mutilated organ, smearing his fingers in cobalt-blue blood. The crowd seemed to hold their breath as the Andorian blinked in amazement at the blood on his fingers and deduced with alarming slowness the consequences of what had just happened. Khorin broke the tense silence, bursting into loud laughter.
The Andorian's face contorted in a mask of anger as he shouted something in his native language. At his call several blue men and women appeared among the throng, most of them with crushed antennas against their scalp and fists held high. In some of those fists shone bladed weapons with serrated edges. The crowd seemed to start moving suddenly, half of it headed the door, while the rest adopted varying degrees of aggressive attitudes, some moved by empathy with one or other of the participants in the initial brawl, or drunk or crazy enough to simply didn't care about the whatever they were joining, as long as they could behave violently. In just a few seconds, the crowd of the place became a chaotic tumult, a fight of all against all full of cries, cruel laughter and furniture breaking. At some point, while he was using a stools to keep at bay the group of andorians and Tellarites that tried to reach him, Khorin saw how Krystal crossed the room on the shoulders of a humanoid that almost doubled her height, hitting the poor man's head with the remains of a whisky bottle. For some strange reason, the young woman kept smiling, despite her face bathed in blood. Khorin batted the stool in front of a Andorian, sending her tumbling against the tellarite who had been one of the initial instigators of the tumult.The hybrid took advantage of the recently open gap to try to advance towards Tancredi, but before he could get close enough, the crowd clung around him and he had no choice but to stop to defend himself. Strikes, punches and blows hit him from all sides, and Khorin could only turn on himself by hoisting the stool, knocking down anyone who was stupid or slow enough to be inside the metallic swirl he formed with the battered chair. Khorin smiled, trusting that he had found the perfect technique to make his way to his friend when a pang of pain in his side warned him that the Andorians were not the only ones who had brought bladed weapons to the establishment. He turned to where he had received the knife slash, unloading a hail of blows with the battered legs of the stool while he let out a enraged roar. Suddenly, another slash came down his back. Another on his right side. One stuck under his right arm, penetrating deep into his armpit. The alcohol made the pain was barely a dull sensation that didn't fully permeated into his brain, but the warrior in him knew he had too many enemies.  Although he was physically superior to all of them, they were simply too many. Knowing it did nothing but to spur his anger, and Khorin redoubled his efforts to rid himself of the bluish horde that surrounded him.
Suddenly, an ally appeared out of nowhere armed with an d'k tagh. Without need any word, they leaned on each other's backs, protecting their respective sides. The arrival of this unexpected reinforcement allowed Khorin to recover some of the lost ground. Soon, there was an empty circle around the Klingon and the hybrid, only occupied by fallen adversaries who lamented and writhed uselessly on the floor. "Thanks!" Rumbled Khorin, looking over his shoulder at his unexpected ally. The other Klingon stared back, raising his weapon in acknowledgment. "You don't fight bad to be a whoreson," he replied, laughing loudly. Khorin's expression soured suddenly and without thinking of the consequences, he grabbed the Klingon's neck and began to strangle him.

Re: [2374] Starfleet Academy - The Stars In Our Eyes

Reply #12 –
[ Cadet Krystal Tancredi | Rising Sunset | San Francisco | Earth ] Attn: @Numen
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Oh this was turning out even better than she could have hoped. Part of Kystal was filled with regret for bringing Khorin into all of this. Any negative repercussions would be reflected on him, whether directly or by proxy, it didn't matter. But the larger, more irrational part of her didn't care in the least, and she figured, he's a big boye, he can handle it! and she realized, he was really big! As she recovered from the powerful punch to her jaw by the Tellarite, Khorin had gone to town...with the Tellarite's face! A tusk actually came loose, and the redhead caught it, thinking it would make a heck of a souvenir.

Her laughter intermixed with Khorin's at some point, amidst the clamour and noise of the crowd and the music which continued unabated. The chaos had grown in seconds after the Tellarite had crashed amongst other patrons and his wild flailings only aggravated equally drunk people, who began attacking him...or each other. Taking advantage of the tumult, she clambered onto some other giant's back like she did this everyday (and she probably did), whiskey bottle in hand, and revelled in the satisfying shatter on its head. As the giant collapsed, the momentum of the fall threw the petite girl forward, who tucked her body and rolled, coming back to her feet as if she'd planned it all along, and threw herself at another patron, delivering a wild hook to the face.

Her lips and mouth were bleeding profusely, but she didn't care. She never felt more alive than she did now!

It was only while she had her legs wrapped around a Pakled's neck and she was pounding uselessly on his head repeatedly with her right hand did she notice her opponent and many others had slowed their fights to observe Khorin, including the Pakled, who seemed oblivious to her, as she was still hitting him even as she joined the others in looking. Khorin had utterly, utterly lost it. He was strangling his own rescuer (by the girl's guess from how they were positioned) and her fellow cadet was bleeding from multiple knife wounds. Those Andorians were not messing around when they drew blades, and there were others too, but now the Klingons were killing each other...well, Khorin more than the other since he was taken by surprise.

Instantly, the redhead was filled with regret, and even through the haze of drunkenness, she knew she'd made a deadly mistake involving Khorin in all this. There were many who would belittle the big guy even in this day and age, for his mixed heritage. But she knew him well enough by now, and she knew he took more to his Klingon side than anything else (aside from his passion for sugar and candy) and she did not want this on his record, especially murder! She didn't care what happened to her, but she did not want to bring her friend down with her. Pushing through the shouting and screaming patrons and combatants, Krystal grabbed a small bowl with tribble kebabs and tossed it at Khorin's back, shouting, “KHORIN! MEVYAP!”

He hadn't killed that Klingon yet. Thank God for the warrior race's durability and stubborn strength. The fight and music finally stopped when sirens were heard just outside, and like magic, the patrons emptied the club, including the Klingon that Khorin was strangling. Someone pointed towards Krystal and Khorin, shouting that they started it, and the redhead couldn't care less, but she stared worriedly at her friend, until someone slugged her in the back of the head hard enough to knock her out, and when she awoke next, her head was on Khorin's lap, and they were in a holding cell. She felt bad now, but when she turned her head a little to see Captain Tristan Kendrick, seated on a chair, hands steepled together, and giving her "The Look.", all she could do was say, “Oh fuck...”

Re: [2374] Starfleet Academy - The Stars In Our Eyes

Reply #13 –
[ Cadet Khorin Douglas & Cadet Krystal Tancredi |Rising Sunset | San Fransisco | Earth]
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Join post with @Triage



"KHORIN! MEVYAP!"



The cadet stopped his strangling attempt, his hands still encircling the Klingon's neck, but they relaxed the pressure on his throat. His victim continued scratching his hands, making choked sounds and regaining strength every second that passed. However, Khorin wasn't paying attention. His lethargic brain was still trying to understand why Krystal had asked him to stop. And what in Khaless' name had hit his back. An especially awake part of his mind sensed that his mentor had thrown the object, whatever it was, to highlight her words. But why. He didn't have much time to think about such questions, since his enemy (and former ally) slipped through his fingers and ran away. Almost at the same time the music fell silent with an electric chirp, confused voices began to sound around him, and several fingers pointed in his direction, making him the center of attention all of a sudden. Khorin crossed his gaze with Tancredi's, the confusion painted on his features so obviously that he looked like a caricature of himself. For better or for worse, his thoughts didn't go much further, as the impact of a phaser shot on the side of his head turned everything black.




[ Cadet Khorin Douglas & Cadet Krystal Tancredi | Holding Cell | San Francisco Police Department | Earth]



"Oh fuck..."


That was the first thing Khorin heard when he woke up. Well, more than when woke up, when his scattered brain could manage to join more than two thoughts together in a way that constituted a thought that could be considered tangentially rational. Khorin tightened his arms around whatever was resting in his lap. It was soft and silky and felt good under his rough fingers. The hybrid entangled his hands in that warm tangle, simply enjoying the texture. However, there was something wrong. His back ached, the skin under his arm too, and his side. Something was stabbing his back at the level of his kidneys and his legs were numb, as if he had been in the same position for too long. He struggled to open his eyes, but only managed to separate the eyelids until the painful light penetrated them through a narrow slit, accompanied by a sudden headache and a horrible nausea.


"I imagine you've had a lot of fun tonight, you two. And that you're proud of yourself, pup." Said a female voice with a strange mixture between sweetness and an authoritative tone. Khorin closed his eyes again, wishing he were still asleep. But to his dismay the short sentences had been like a bath of cold water, waking him fully. Without opening his eyes, he took a deep breath and shrank slightly on himself. "Hi, ma ..." he growled in a doughy voice.

"What were you thinking, Krystal?" said Tristan in a tone mixed with disappointment and anger. He stood up as he said this, stepping right through the energy barrier of the holding cell, which was keyed to allow him entry, "It's bad enough you keep doing this to yourself, but now you involve Mister Douglas?!? Do you know who he is?"


Krystal, slowly rising from her prone position over the half-Klingon's lap, positioned herself to lean back against the wall and look at the captain straight in the eyes...with fear. For the first time ever in Khorin's life, the girl was at a loss for words and had no snarky comebacks or snide remarks. He had heard her excoriating Vulcans, Tellarites, Andorians, Betazoids and so many others, most of them superior officers or senior cadets, but for some reason, Tristan was the one man she seemed truly afraid of. Afraid to disappoint, or just plain afraid, that wasn't quite clear. She lowered her head after a while, and Tristan turned his head, as if expecting Khorin's mother to have followed him in.

"Ah'm sorry, Khorin...'s mah fault..." Krystal murmured to her huge friend


Krystal's sudden distress shocked Khorin. Even his muddled brain could fathom that they were in trouble and, for some strange reason, that captain freaked out his lion-hearted friend. He didn't think about it twice and embraced her with an arm, protecting her. When his brain livened up enough, he found himself curling his upper lip ,displaying his very human teeth. To protect a girl from someone who is obviously known to her. In front of HIS own mother. Just at that moment, Heather Douglas stepped forward, her face murderous enough to kill an adult targ just by staring at it. Khorin swallowed and shrank on himself, but kept his arm shielding Tancredi, who made no movements, seemingly resigned. 


Meanwhile, Heather halted side-by-side with Tristan. She was a short woman, petite and with grizzled auburn hair. However the way she carried herself around was somehow stern and domineering, as if she were used to giving orders and being obeyed without hesitation or question. "Oh, don't apologize, missy. He must know better by now how to behave," she barked. "Do you know who was that Klingon you almost strangled to death, pup? He was Kurak, heir to the House of B'Vat! Maybe you remember that name, they're traditional enemies of the House of  Mo'Kai".  When he heard the name, Khorin rubbed his free hand over his face.


"How bad was it?" he finally wailed with a tiny voice, far from his usual bombastic tone, which made Krystal look up at him wonderingly.


"Well, between your grandfather and me, we managed to avert disaster by pointing out that it didn't end in a bloodbath. Korvan was more than ready to begin another Klingon Civil War, so be thankful he's not the Head of the House yet." she explained, her words sour and caustic. "It has been an affront to that House's honour, even worse when you're a half-blood and I'm in the diplomatic corps. I assure you that blood has been shed for this today... and that you have earned us problematic enemies."


"This concerns the Federation, Krystal." said Tristan, picking up right after Heather, "Congratulations, you've caused a potentially intergalactic incident. I know you love getting into trouble on your birthday. But this time," he gritted his teeth as he said "this time," "You've gone too far."

Re: [2374] Starfleet Academy - The Stars In Our Eyes

Reply #14 –
[ Cadet Krystal Tancredi | Rising Sunset | San Francisco | Earth ] Attn: @Numen
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For the first time in her life, Krystal truly felt the weight of her actions and choices thus far since enlisting in Starfleet. But more than that, she felt what she had brought upon Khorin more than anything else. The cost she had brought upon the Federation most likely. Tristan could sometimes be melodramatic, but he was seldom far from the truth. And she knew Heather by reputation more than anything else. The woman was formidable, just like Old Jedediah. They had to be, in order to deal with Klingons. She remembered that the old man taught her how Klingons valued and respected strength. And though she wanted nothing more than to curl up and die, she knew it would not solve Khorin's woes, and it was her fault. Not his.

She was not going to let him suffer for her sins.

“What?” said Tristan, when Krystal mumbled something, and the redhead lifted her eyes to the man.

“Ah said put it all on me.” She stood up, freeing herself from Khorin's protective hold and walked up to the captain, gazing up at him with conviction in her eyes. “Ah instigated th' faht, Ah provoked th' situation unnecessarily, and th' truth, plain 'n' simple, was Khorin was protectin' me. He's mah wingman, on th' ground and in our birds. He only did what he's been trained t' do, and t' serve his leader with distinction.”

She then turned to look at Heather, and though she felt unnerved by the woman's steely stare, she did not show it, just as she was trained to, and said, “Kurak insulted Khorin's honour. In that, he provoked your son. You know what they say 'bout insultin' a Klingon's honour. He's as Klingon as Kahless is, an' Ah'll stand bah him. Starfleet would lose a great pilot if they throw him out. Please...lemme take this one.”

Tristan's features softened a little, and the tall man let out a sigh, running his hand through his hair. “That's a noble sacrifice you're making, but unnecessary.”

The redhead looked up at him in surprise and backed up slowly, almost sitting on the bench again, but she remained standing, waiting to find out what else the captain had to say. “I've put my recommendations to the board of directors for the academy, and staked my reputation as...collateral. Essentially, I've bought your reprieve to remain in the academy. Like you said about Khorin, Starfleet stands to lose a lot by throwing you out.”

The girl couldn't help herself, and she asked, “But...why?”

“Would you rather be expelled and sent back to your family?” asked Tristan with a raised eyebrow, and nodded to himself when she shook her head fervently. “It's your absolute last chance, Krystal. One more report, of even the smallest offence, and nothing can help you. We've done everything we can to sweep this aside. But neither of you will get this chance ever again.”

He approached Krystal, and looked at her, “Don't waste this, and more than that, stop tearing yourself apart like this. You said they caused you harm, so why give them what they want by continuing to destroy yourself like this? It's your birthday, not your funeral.” He turned and headed out of the brig, throwing a final statement, “Consider this my gift.”

Krystal felt a mixture of love, gratefulness, anguish, joy and relief all at once, and it warred with her face to show itself. Suitably chastised, she sat back down, looking at no one, and then abruptly buried her face in her hands, sobbing, saying, “Ah'm sorry, Ah'm sorry...” over and over again.

Re: [2374] Starfleet Academy - The Stars In Our Eyes

Reply #15 –
[ Cadet Khorin Douglas Holding Cell | San Francisco Police Department | Earth]
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Attn: @Triage



Khorin watched the whole scene without moving from where he was, sank in an unusual silence. Partly because of the hints of Krystal's past that were throwing around the room.Details about the red-haired life that she had hidden zealously.Partly because alcohol still wreaked havoc on his body and he felt dizzy and nauseated. But the main reason why he didn't move was because of the way his mother's steely eyes nailed him, pinning him on place.


Khorin was taller and stockier than his mother, any observer who didn't know her as he did probably thought that the hybrid could fold her in a tight knot using just a hand. But Khorin knew the truth. He knew why his uncle Korvan treated her with deference and why Drax respected her, even more than some members of his own House. The cadet wasn't willing to stir her anger even more.


When Captain Kendrick left the brig and Krystal began to sob inconsolably, Khorin tried to reach her to soothe her a tad. "MEVYAP!" Barked the oldest Douglas, and the hybrid dropped back on his buttocks, as if he was just struck by a lightning. He had learn long ago not to disobey that order.


For her part, Heather walked over the bench where Krystal was sobbing and sat next to her, hugging her tightly against her small frame. "There, there sweetheart" She lulled the redhead. "We'd solved it my dear, there were no harm done. Well, not too much, you know my partner's people need a few excuses to spill blood " She downplayed the problem while rocking the young woman in her arms. They stayed that way for a few minutes, the older woman stroking the younger's hair,holding her close until she calmed down.


When Krystal seemed to collect herself enough, Heather rummaged in her bag until she pulled out a small blood-red handkerchief and proceeded to wipe the texan's eyes, as a mother would do with her distressed toddler. "It's all right now, honey, Heather is here to help you any time you need it, ok? I deal with klingons as a daily basis, it's refreshing take care of a tomboy girl from time to time" she joked, while a sideway grin, very similar to her son's, appeared in her face. "Tristan didn't tell me that it was your birthday, sweetheart, we're going to solve that, 'kay? You'll come with me home,  and I'll prepare a cake and we'll spend the day watching old holofilms , do you fancy it? Surely you do. Just let me take care of everything." Heather planned without giving Krystal any chance to protest or refuse.


Plan in mind, she stood up, she hold Kristal's hand and pulled her out of the cell, pulling her out of the cell as if she weighted nothing. "Ma?" Khorin asked behind them, putting him on his feet again, leaning unnstable against the wall.


"Yes, pup?" She queried, turning slightly, her face dangerously calm.


"Can I ...?" He implored, unable to form the full sentence.


"Oh no my dear, you'll remain here for a while, thinking about what you have done." She answered before Khorin could muster some courage to finish his question. "If you're old enough to play the big-bad-drunk Klingon role, you're old enough to deal with the consequences of your actions," she said sternly. "I have not raised drunkard, Khorin, and I won't tolerate this behaviour again" She said as a farewell. Soon after, the door hissed at the backs of the two women.


Alone in the brig with his headache, Khorin let out a frustrated whine.






[Heather Douglas | Chez Douglas | North Panhandle district | San Francisco | Earth]



Heather opened the house's door with a theatrical gesture, inviting the cadet to enter before her. They were in the doorstep of a narrow row house.  The outer walls were covered in white painted wood, giving the boulding a nice old Victorian style. When they both crossed the threshold it was clear that the interior, however, was more modern and comfortable. And decidedly human. There were few things in sight that suggested that there lived a diplomatic specializated in Klingon Empire relationship, and even less than a (half) Klingon had lived there until recent times. Maybe a red banner in the stairs to the basement. Perhaps a sharp-pointed weapon over the fireplace. Probably the most striking were the photographs that covered the hallway walls.


Heather had always loved photography. Not the modern, half holographic one, the old one, the nice still images, printed on paper and framed with white or black wood. That kind of images had a romantic aura that the holopics didn't have, a special charm that she had always loved. Margon, in the other hand, had never understood it but, after a while, he had simply accepted that it was another of Heather's strangeness or that he should endured without question it. After how their lives had developt, she was still thankful for that, for that little way he'd indulged her without make a big deal of it. That way she still could remember him. Kept bits of what was and would never be again.


Unconsciously, as she walked thourgh the hall, she ran her square finger through one of the frames, as she always did when she arrived home. The photograph it protected showed a younger version of her, twenty years younger and with a wild curly hair, grinning widely next to a stern looking Margon. She looked happy and sunburned. He looked mostly unimpressed, but holded her close. 'Why so serious?' She had asked him after she took the pic, as she had made so many times. He had shrugged as an answer, as he always did. And then he'd kissed her for first time.


With that bittersweet memory in mind, Heather came to the kitchen, a neat and clean room with a small table in the center and a huge window overlooking the back garden."Make yourself comfortable, I've to solve some stuff and I'll be with you in a moment. You can use the replicator at your leisure. Or take a look on the refresher, maybe there are some fresh gagh left, if Khorin has introduced you into it. I know the live worms thing it's weird at first, but I couldn't live without it nowadays, " She said with a more cheerful tone than she had used in the police department. After making sure the cadet had crossed the corridor and was prowling in the kitchen, she patted her shoulder and hurried up the stairs to the second floor. "Remember: my house is your house!" He shouted from above. "If you have not made yourself comfortable when I return, you're going to have a real problem, sweetheart!" she warned just before the sound of a door closing echoed in the house.


OOC: Yay! Post number 300!

Re: [2374] Starfleet Academy - The Stars In Our Eyes

Reply #16 –
[ Cadet Krystal Tancredi | Chez Douglas | North Panhandle district | San Francisco | Earth ] Attn: @Numen
[Show/Hide]
She had never asked before about Khorin's mother, though she had a small idea who she was, thanks to Old Man Jedediah, he too had been part of the diplomatic corps, and he worked closely with the Klingons for years on end. His whole life, he had mentioned. He was a Klingon in human skin, he sometimes liked to joke, and she saw the same formidable presence in the slight woman, and if Khorin's reaction or behaviour towards his mother was any indication, she knew it would be wise not to step on her toes, just like she wouldn't with Tristan, whom she looked up to and who was the only person capable of talking sense into her.

She knew though, that she immediately liked the woman. Heather Douglas was strong, and perhaps even stern, but also knew kindness and compassion, an unusual combination of characteristics. She oddly welcomed the affection being given to her. She'd been hesitant and stiff at first, expecting violence or pain, but that was not what she got. She quickly warmed up to Heather, and as they'd left the cell, she mouthed a sincere apology to Khorin as they left and secretly planned to collect sweets and candies for the big lug somehow, knowing that was what he liked the most. She had no idea how he hadn't died from anaphylactic shock yet, but she felt she owed him a great deal now.

“M-much obliged, ma,” said Krystal, not even realizing what she'd said as she took in the place and its ambience. It was a home, which was something she'd never ever had in her life, the closest being Jedediah's farmhouse, and it was little more than a shed in all honesty. The man lived simple, but this place was positively luxurious, and she felt a touch of greed and envy for her friend, Khorin, who had a real mother, probably a real father too. She felt bitterness welling up in her again, and she fought to suppress the emotion. Heather didn't deserve to deal with any shit from her. She quickly wiped a stray tear and focused her breathing to stop any sobs.

Gagh, the redhead suddenly darted for the refrigerator as offered. She'd only tried it a few times, and she doubted she'd ever get into it, but she could handle them whenever offered. Right now, she needed them as a distraction, and they'd do. It seemed like Heather had Filden Gagh, and these bastards squirmed like crazy. Well, they all did, but she was going to feel it all the way down, she knew. Taking a tiny plate of them, she settled down in the living room sofa, getting comfortable as ordered, and she lifted one worm, looking at the living thing. It was looking right back at her, she thought, plumbing the depths of her soul.

She swallowed it.

It tasted horrible, but eating gagh was never about the taste. As the worm squirmed and spasmed in her throat and down, she shivered violently and shook her head rapidly, “Lord al-mah-teh,” she said to herself, “whut was Ah thinkin'?” But it served its purpose. She was utterly distracted with trying to eat what she'd picked. Now she could look forward to cake, but she sincerely hoped it didn't involve Klingon delicacies...if Heather was anything like Old Man Jed, she was in for a weird cuisine experience.

Re: [2374] Starfleet Academy - The Stars In Our Eyes

Reply #17 –
[Heather Douglas | Chez Douglas | North Panhandle district | San Francisco | Earth]
Attn: @Triage


"Yummy, isn't it? The way they wriggle and twist all the way down is strange at first, but it's part of the experience," Heather said with a half side grin drawn on her face. She was leaning with her arms crossed over the stair railing, watching as Krystal dealt with the bowl of snaking larvae. When the younger woman looked at her, Douglas smiled even more broadly, the same shit-eating grin her son used to wear, but perfected by years of experience.

"You know, there are some Klingons who claim that a quality Gagh should move in your stomach for at least two hours and, if it doesn't, you have the right to kill your supplier. But of course, at Qo'noS things are a little different," she explained, shrugging her shoulders as she approached.

She went up to where Krystal was sitting and, without thinking twice, took a generous handful of worms from the bowl and swallowed them without a single chew. "Just remember that if you notice something climbing up your throat in a while that it's your little friend fighting for his life, remember to praise its attemps and push it down again" she joked.
 
Heather dropped herself on the couch next to Tancredi and handed her one of the Padds she had been carrying. "Let's move on to more earthly things. Your birthday. I know you and Khorin had enough emotions last night, so no alcohol today. Here's the menu of the pup's favorite pastry shop, maybe you're not assweet-toothed as he is but well, what kind of party would be without a cake?"

Extending her arms over the back of the sofa, the diplomat grabbed a furry blanket and dropped it over both of their legs, hunkering down it while she studied a second Padd. Probably calling that thing 'a blanket' was a great favor to it. It seemed to be made by roughly joining the skins of several animals who had fought fiercely for their lives. Here and there were patches of hairless leather, torn scars patched with a coarse red thread. From the edges of the blanket, adding weight and consistency, hung what were undoubtedly teeth, some of which were longer than the foot. It seemed like something designed to make you feel comfortable... or kill you in the attempt. Probably without asking your opinion on the whole thing.

"I've arranged with the police to release my pup in an hour, so that he has time to think about what he's done. You know, he needs his time to jump to conclusions. You want me to call someone else? Tristan had a meeting at the Starfleet Headquarters but if you want we can call some more friends?" She didn't asked about Krystal family, as she knew what she had dealed with. And kept scrolling throug the padd's screen.


SO SO sorry for the delay

Re: [2374] Starfleet Academy - The Stars In Our Eyes

Reply #18 –
[ Cadet Krystal Tancredi | Chez Douglas | North Panhandle district | San Francisco | Earth ] Attn: @Numen
[Show/Hide]
It was so strange and surreal listening to Heather talk, because it reminded her so much of Old Man Jed, and the way he'd talk about Klingons. Though with Jed, one could never be sure if he hated the Klingons or loved them to death. She smiled and laughed when the Douglas Matriarch joked about the gagh, and then stopped short when she felt a tickle inside her throat and realized one of those stupid worms was really struggling to get back out! Swallowing hard, she showed the bug who was boss and resisted the urge to shiver. It was disgusting. Why did Klingons enjoy it so much again? Why did she? Well she could blame Old Man Jed for that too, she supposed.

She took the PADD from Heather, and looked wonderingly at it, and felt her stomach knot and twist again as she was reminded that poor Khorin was languishing in jail because of her. Sure, Heather might feel like he deserved a punishment, but the little redhead didn't feel it was fair. After all, she was the one that goaded him and he was just protecting her. Because she very certainly would have died if not for him. She reminded herself once again to make sure to get something for him...a few somethings even. Because she really owed him. Heather had her cake shopping, and indeed, she never had as intense a sweet tooth as the big lug, but she wasn't adverse to them either. Just, she didn't fancy having her pancreas go into shock, and watching Khorin eat candies was enough to raise her blood sugar levels.

She nearly jumped when Heather threw this horrific nightmare over their legs. It was like a canvas of the testimony of ridiculous or unnecessary killing. Well, the redhead could sort of appreciate that. She'd just pretend it was made of the remains of her blood relatives and parents. That was a pretty picture. In all honesty, it was something of a miracle that they never came after her or tried to make her life hell. She pinched the edge of the "blanket" gingerly, and half expected the thing to growl.

“Y-ya really didn't have ta be so hard on 'im, raht?” said Krystal, “Ah'm th' one that took 'im out...an'...well, Ah technically pulled seniority on 'im.”

Friends. Well the only real friend, in all honesty, was Khorin. Most people knew her through a punch to their faces, men or women, Krystal's fist didn't discriminate. And Khorin escaped this through a combination of being too damn tall for her to reach his face, and way too solid for him to sometimes even notice when she was hitting him. But she did find she knew people. Some anyway, and she made a tiny list of people they could invite last minute who would still be up at an unearthly hour. She also figured she'd take the opportunity to try something she'd only ever tasted once and never had a chance to ever again: Tiramisu.

“What animal did this come from?” the girl finally asked, fingering the edge with the long teeth. It was definitely growling. This blanket wasn't dead yet.

Re: [2374] Starfleet Academy - The Stars In Our Eyes

Reply #19 –

[Heather Douglas | Chez Douglas | North Panhandle district | San Francisco | Earth]
Attn: @Triage

"Listen sweetheart, I' ve a fairly good idea about why you were looking to get into that mess," Heather explained cryptically, looking the redhead in the eye, but without any explanation of how or why she possessed that information. "Even though I don't approve of what you did, I can understand your motivation in all of this." With a sudden movement, faster than one would expect for a woman her age, the diplomat grabbed Krystal by the ear, pinching it. Douglas didn't apply much strength at all. It didn't even seem like a really punitive gesture, but something almost affectionate. Yet it was tremendously painful. Enough to bring a full-klingon to his knees. Heather had perfected it with her offspring, but it was a skill she had used with her husband's family for years. And she knew what she was doing. "We'll talk about that another day, missy," she threatened shortly before releasing Tancredi's ear from her fierce pinch. "But today is your birthday, so I'll excuse you for now," she added with that half-sided smile that was so close to the big oaf' grin. "But my pup had to know better what he was doing. He should have stopped you and offered you an alternative, like a good friend does. Khorin is loyal and caring, like his father was, but he doesn't think hard enough before he acts, and that's going to get him into trouble some day." Heather remarked, moving her gaze to the pictures hanging in the hallway. "Khorin... is a good boy, but if he's this impulsive he'll end up getting himself killed... and he'll drag others with him in his downfall." The older woman's light eyes turned to Krystal's face and her expression was earnest, without any jest on it. "I've seen it happen before, and I'm not willing to let the same thing happen to my cub. That idiot can be almost two meters tall, but for me he' ll always be my baby. And I'll do whatever it takes to protect him. Even from himself." She affirmed.

However, soon Heather relaxed her expression and patted Tancredi's shoulder. "I want to be a grandmother someday, have this house full of brats ¼ Klingon, it would be wonderful, wouldn't it,?" she said winking to the young woman, merely to confuse her. Although Heather and Tristan had been the hands in the shadows that had arranged for Khorin and Krystal to meet,she wasn't willing to railroad their friendship beyond that, however much she thought it was a charming prospect. Luckily, the question about the blanket gave her an excuse to change the subject, while her hands manipulated the padd, contacting the guest list and hiring catering. "I really have no idea. " She confessed. "Margon was very superstitious about certain stuff and he spent two weeks with a spear in his hand behind that thing to make sure Khorin survived his first weeks. Klingons can be so odd sometimes," she told her. Khorin had come as a surprise, conceived without medical aid and his chances of survival had been slim. He was born small and premature, minuscule by Klingon standards. His grandfather, Drax, had refused that he got a name lest he proved to be strong enough to survive, so Khorvan, his uncle, had spent months talking about the hybrid as 'Margon's pup'. Somehow, the nickname had remained. And as a small revenge, Khorin had received a version of his uncle's name.'Little Khorvan' it meaned. Drax firstborn has been proud of that and he has turned into something like a godfather for Heather's son. As she recalled all this, the diplomant couldn't help but smile for herself, cryptically, without sharing with Krystal the reason for her grin.

Little by little, the guests began to appear in the house. At one point, catering appeared and all the room's flat surfaces became filled with a strange mix of traditional birthday food, an unhealthy amount of desserts and several Klingon delicacies, which most guests avoided touching. Mainly because one of the dishes soon began to feed on neighboring trays, which led to a chase through the kitchen to make sure the tentacle critter was stunned enough to be consumed. The atmosphere relaxed shortly thereafter and the small meeting could soon be called a joyous feast.

It was then when the doorbell rang. When Heather opened the door she received a very contrite Khorin. Mother and son exchanged a long conversation in his native language, he shrugging his shoulders, she with a serious face and arms crossed over her chest. As the conversation ended, however, she hugged her son who, in turn, almost buried her in a bear hug between his thick arms. When they both entered the room, both smiled and Khorin soon howled. "Happy Birthday Ginger!!!"

Re: [2374] Starfleet Academy - The Stars In Our Eyes

Reply #20 –
[ Cadet Krystal Tancredi | Chez Douglas | North Panhandle district | San Francisco | Earth ] Attn: @Numen
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Krystal frowned when Heather gave her that cryptic statement, and she wondered just what the woman meant with that statement. Just how did she get her intel in the first place? There wasn't exactly a large list of people she'd willingly pour her heart out to; that would be why she took the self-destructive path that she did. She had the insight to look a little embarrassed at the least when Heather revealed that she knew, if nothing else. The next moment however, she had no time to do anything but flail her arms and lean forward towards the woman, her eyes clenching shut in pain.

“AH! AAAAOOOWWWW!!! FAAAHK!” She couldn't hold back from expletives here, because that was the most painful pinch she'd experienced in a long time, and she was a champion of dealing with pain, all things considered, but this was new and tears sprang forth faster than she could even think to hold them back. As quickly as it had been done, it was over, as Heather had released the diminutive girl, and she grasped at her ear, covering it entirely with a palm, the eye on the side of the injured ear still tightly shut, and she was grimacing. Holy hell, she needed to remember that technique, because she had a feeling that was how the Douglas matron kept Khorin on a tight leash.

She understood though, what the woman meant about her son, and she meekly nodded. No wonder Khorin was so afraid of her. She could teach Vulcans a thing or two about pinching.

As for the mystery blanket, seemed like Heather was as uncertain about its origins as she was, but the more Heather spoke, the more the little redhead saw parallels between her and Old Man Jed. If they were both in the diplomatic corps, it stood to reason they'd know each other, and maybe they just all talked like that?

She decided to ask her later.

To her surprise, quite so, because the turnout was somewhat larger than she'd been expecting. The best she could describe most people she knew closer than just their names would've been tolerable acquaintances. So to see them, plus the usual friends of friends, all of whom were people she knew too to some degree, really threw Krystal for a loop. In fact, the Vulcan instructor who had assigned her to be Khorin's induction trainer and wingmate was present too, and when he wished her happy birthday, she could have sworn he had managed a small smile.

That was honestly scarier than if he'd lost his shit and screamed at her in fury.

And they were all honestly genuinely happy to see her and admire the residence of Heather Douglas. Many were torn between panic and laughter when the living Klingon dish tried to escape the buffet table. Krystal herself had blurted out someone tried to shoot it, quickly. Nobody seemed to be under orders to pretend to be happy. They were really happy to be here. More importantly, they were happy to see her. The girl was a little conflicted about it, wondering if she should cry, or smile and laugh and be happy. She really wanted to do the latter, but it was as if some dark cloud told her she didn't have a right to be happy. The faces of her father, her mother, her siblings bubbled up uninvited into her memory and mind, and she idly wondered where they were now, and how come they had yet to try hunting her down and killing her for her last act of revenge.

She suddenly realized the one person she wanted here besides Khorin or Cross, was Old Man Jedediah. She was about to look for Heather to ask her about him when her head whipped about to look at the door when the bell rang.

More guests?!?

She lit up though when she saw Khorin! Thank mercy. She patiently waited for the mother and son to finish their private conversation, though she could guess at the exchange. Since he was here, she wouldn't have to sneak him all that cake, which she intended to do so as a way of making it up to him for the shit she'd put him through. It was as if all those things never happened though when she saw that familiar shit-eating grin on him and his voice thundered through the chalet with such force, the featherweight girl stumbled back at his proclaimation and she sat heavily on a chair. She blushed as everyone burst into laughter but also chorused his wishing with raised drinks and one Klingon held up a spork like it was a dagger and wished her in Klingon. But considering the non-existence of certain words in the Klingon language, what he wished sounded entirely more bloodthirsty.

Also, why did he look so much like Gowron?

“Thanks, y'all.” said Krystal weakly, before she got off the chair and ran up to Khorin and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him to hang on a good few feet off the ground, eliciting more chuckles at how small she was in comparison to the half-giant. After a while, she slid back to the ground and looked up at him, and she sheepishly added, “Next tahm, let's not do anythin' Ah suggest, 'specially if Ah'm drunk...yeah?”

Not that he was likely to ask, but if he did, she decided she'd tell him the truth. He deserved that much. After bringing him to the table to tell him to please do something about the living dishes, and putting a knife in his hand, she mingled around with the people a little bit, and then finally sought out Heather Douglas. She stood right in front of the matron and looked more nervous than she'd normally let on, then said, “Heather...there's somethin' Ah wanna ask...well, uh...someone Ah'd lahk t' invaht 'ere, if it's okay with ya...”

She scratched the back of her head and looked away, then back at the woman, “D'ya know someone bah th' name o' Jedediah James?”

Re: [2374] Starfleet Academy - The Stars In Our Eyes

Reply #21 –
[Cadet Khorin DouglasChez Douglas | North Panhandle district | San Francisco | Earth]
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Attn: @Triage

"Yeah, next time just cake and Bat'leth fights, but only until the first blood, okay?" answered Khorin with a serious face, while he nodded solemnly. However, that charade lasted only a few seconds, as the hybrid's face brightened with a teasing grin. "Don't worry Ginger, no more alcohol for me, so I'll be around to get you out of the mess you get into, even if it's carrying you in the air," he added with a new guffaw, as he held Krystal between his thick arms once again. "You're a very troublesome woman for such a little thing, you know?" he snarled, still smiling, as one of his massive hands landed on Tancredi's head, ruffling her hair.

After that he picked up his friend who, somehow, had sunk under the pressure of his friendly caress. The young Klingon shook his head and urged himself to remember that no matter how wild Tancredi was, she was still human. A human who had little or no extensive experience with Klingon aside of himself, though she had fared well so far.  So, despite her habit of solving everything with a good punch, Khorin decided to take it easy with her for awhile. Maybe until the next Sugar Sunday. Or until a more pressing thought made him forget that resolution.

Shortly after that, Krystal dragged him to the buffet table, and asked him to make something about the living food while she placed a sharp and minute knife in his hand. "But-but... that's how it should be eaten. If Krada doesn't try to devour the rest of the dishes on the table, it's not a good Krada." he declared with astonishment. Such a proclamation, obviously, didn't stand unchallenged and the pale-eyed Klingon stepped through the room hoisting his spork with murderous zeal. "BROILED! Krada must be mutilated and its legs roasted and seasoned while they are still twisting in pain," roared the Klingon puffing up his chest. "That's wasting a good Krada," grunted Khorin. "You would miss an honorable fight if you killed the mollusk before you cooked it," he proclaimed. "But raw you can't enjoy poison bags properly!" The light-eyed Klingon rebounded. "OF COURSE NOT! You must pull them out with your teeth," Khorin remarked, eyes wide open in disbelief. "That's an irreverence!" howled the other Klingon.

Engaged as they were in a vicious dialectical battle over the correct way to cook the mollusk, neither realized how the creature was dropping off the table and slipping quickly across the floor. When it reached the groundfloor restroom, the mollusk slid in quickly, using one of its long tentacles to close the door behind it.


[Heather Douglas | Chez Douglas | North Panhandle district | San Francisco | Earth]
Attn: @Triage

Heather stared at the cadet for a moment, her expression unreadable. "Oh Sweetheart, I know him too well. He was my mentor at Qo'noS the first time I worked there. Quite a character, the good Old Jed, eh?" She explained shortly afterwards with a cryptic smirk on her face. One that didn't reach her eyes. "I'm afraid he's busy at the moment, honey. There's a brewing conflict near Khitomer and he's gone there in consultative capacity. There are few people in Federation with such a long experience as he does," she lied. Heather was an expert at twisting reality for her own convenience, after all, much of diplomacy consisted of that. There was indeed a frontier dispute with the Klingon Empire, but given that the Klingons were involved... there was always a conflict at the borders. So if Krystal searched for information she would find that there were indeed diplomatic efforts to appease the Klingons in Khitomer. Even if Tancredi did enough research, she could find the names of the diplomats who participated in the conversations, as well as their aides, including Heather herself. However, she would only find that there were several advisors involved, but no names. So Heather could gradually prepare Krystal for the shock of her mentor's death. After spending so much time with Klingon, Douglas had little love for lying. But sometimes it was necessary. And Tancredi deserved a decent birthday for once in her lifetime.

Re: [2374] Starfleet Academy - The Stars In Our Eyes

Reply #22 –
[ Cadet Krystal Tancredi | Chez Douglas | North Panhandle district | San Francisco | Earth ] Attn: @Numen
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Krystal's eyes widened at the mention of this fact. Mentor?!? Well that might explain a few things about Heather. She frowned as she considered the woman's words, and the expressions on her face. Something was not quite right about it, but she could fathom no reason why there'd be subterfuge here, even if it was highly irregular for Old Man Jed to return to his life as a diplomat. He'd told her they'd have to take him over his dead body, which would be something of a feat since he'd be pretty useless to anyone as a corpse. “'cept me,” he'd say, “I'll be in good ol' Sto'vo'kor!”

He would bark with laughter and then turn to other subjects. It was Old Jed's way to not dwell on anything for long.

“Bless mah libahtees!” said Krystal, “Now Ah know whah ya are th' way ya are! He taught me too! Okay, Ah hope 'e gets me that D'k tahg he promised me. Said he'd have to kill some Klingon for it...”

Now that she thought about it, she hoped the man was kidding about that.

The party went on for a while, with Captain Kendrick actually making a short appearance to pass on another gift, despite already giving her one by virtue of her being let out of the brig without any record of this event. A Meony flower, unique and genetically designed just for her. She rather liked the name, since it was completely made up, and she liked the way it sounded to her. For the most part, Krystal kept her nose clean from then on, and she corresponded with Heather Douglas frequently. The border dispute between the Klingons and the Federation was dragging out, and with the Dominion War, it was no wonder, but the redhead was optimistic that Old Man Jed was all right. He was in his element and the formidable old man was anything but a pushover.

The months drew on, and Krystal had a few near-misses, often involving Khorin or someone else, but mostly Khorin. In fact, the pair had developed something of a reputation. Krystal was already a notorious loudmouth, but coupled with Khorin, and it was like putting a banshee behind a steam engine locomotive. Most times, Krystal was chasing after Khorin whenever he had a sugar high bout, and trying to deflate potential incidents. When they weren't in training simulators, smoking targets as elite TAC CONN pilots, they were mostly running around the academy. Well, Khorin would be running, Krystal would be trying to keep up.

It so happened one fine day, just after Khorin had overrun some poor brunette cadet, the girl had some excellent bootprint samples on the back of her uniform, while her face was firmly kissed to the floor, and as she struggled to get up, Krystal, in her haste to catch up to the big half-Klingon, put the girl right back into the ground, her petite shoe-prints adding to the decoration on the uniform. And the big lug was only stopped after a collission with the only man almost Khorin's size, Captain Kendrick himself.

Oh we're so dead... thought Krystal as she came to a screeching halt behind the captain, who was chuckling and picking himself off the ground whilst brushing off the dust.

“Well, what's it this time?” asked Tristan, “Let me guess, gummy bears? Ten pounds?”

“Captain, Ah'm so sorry...we...” began Krystal, but he steered the small sized girl until she was in front of him, and standing beside Khorin, showing the contrast of size between the two.

“Forget about it, you two,” said Tristan with barely restrained amusement, “I would like to see you both at eighteen-hundred hours today, my office. Think you can manage that without incident?”

“Y-yeah,” stammered Krystal, “no problem!”

He nodded at them and wandered away, helping the other girl to her feet, and they were soon out of sight. Krystal turned to look up at Khorin, “Ya think we lucked out? Or we fucked out?”

Re: [2374] Starfleet Academy - The Stars In Our Eyes

Reply #23 –
[Cadet Khorin Douglas | Someplace in the path of a Klingon who's been eating too many marshmallows. | Starfleet Academy | San Fransisco | Earth]
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Attn: @Triage

There was a slight obstruction in Khorin's path, but Khorin barely noticed the incident. A slight thud, an unevenness in the hallway and carry on. By Kahless the Unforgettable's curled mane he felt ecstatic. His eating plan had been stagnant for weeks: the same old milkshakes, candy bars and jelly beans. Nothing new, nothing fancy. That made Khorin's left stomach unhappy, which meant Khorin was in a bad mood. And that Khorin was in a bad mood was synonymous with trouble in every language in the quadrant. Perhaps that is why S'vec had entertained him with a two-kilo bag of marshmallows of all colors. The only fact that the medical student had given about the gift was that the candies had twice as much sucrose as normal products and he also stated that a consumption of more than 50 grams was not advisable. He then sat at his pristine desk to study.

Of course, Khorin had eaten the whole bag. Who is so crazy to eat just a little bite of sweets? A sociopath, surely. Or a Vulcan, which Khorin sometimes assumed was the same as a functional sociopath. Whatever the case, when the Klingon went through the bottom of the bag, everything had become a sort of multicolored blur and the cadet had plenty of ENERGY. And he could not leave that energy contained in a small room with his always silent Vulcan roommate. The door just opened before him to reveal a very confused Krystal Tancredi who proceeded to pursue him as soon as the Klingon blurted some incoherence and marched forward. As the door to the room closed behind him, Khorin turned for a moment and, for a brief instant, he thought he saw S'vec smiling. Something impossible, of course, product of his brain in full sugar rush.

That strange smile was what Khorin was thinking when he collided with the first REALLY solid thing since he had left his bedroom. Four pins in the neck. Dark hair. Green eyes. Kendrick. Kendrick? Kendrick, sure. A question about what was... what was what? "NoNo, NoGummyBears, Vulcan-every-color-marshmallow," Khorin answered hurriedly before Krystal interrupted him as she stood by his side. Khorin looked at her blinking repeatedly, confused. She, meanwhile, kept talking with the captain, who left as abruptly as he had appeared.

Krystal asked him something.

Khorin glanced at her for a minute, frowning on his best expression of serious reflection.

"We'RFuck'd"

- FIN
 
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