Incommunicado – A taste of the local culture (Part 2).
by Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin
Post Details
OLD:
"Do Klingon's shit in the woods?" The tall woman replied. "Give me ten minutes."
ON:
The waitress sashayed off, hips swinging. The bartender turned back to her customer, reaching for a new set of ingredients. "Sorry, its manic, Pel's on his break and Leila's sick so I'm on my own for the next twenty minutes." She sloshed liquid into a shaker, a bottle in each hand, pouring by eye. "So, yellow. Operations or Security?"
Relma glanced up, the remnants of the chuckle he'd surreptitiously allowed himself about the Klingons and woods remark still playing on his face, and replied "Operations, Miss, I'm the new Chief: so if any of your systems start playing up please feel free to drop me a repair request, and I'll do my best to put it to the top of the list - Relma is my name." He admired the woman's immense skill as she went about her work behind the bar. He could tell she'd had long and continuous practice. As he took another sip of the concoction in front of him, he mused to himself whether the lifelong skills he'd developed would strike a layman with quite so much awe and admiration. He came to the slightly disappointing conclusion that it probably wouldn't - unless it was a matter of life and death.
At The comment about systems failure, for a moment so brief he couldn't be sure he'd really seen it, she became a matte grey, before steeling back to her original violet. "Well, we're pretty self contained here, so far everything's gone smoothly, even when the promenade blew up"
Relma almost choked on his drink at the comment "What?" he exclaimed, almost jumping out of his seat. "When was this, what happened, where?" He guessed in all the commotion he still hadn't been added to the command networks. He reached for his commbadge to contact Ops and find out what was going on.
"Don't worry, it was a couple of months ago. My opening night of all things." Completed drinks started to line up on the tray. "it's all go round here. if you are hoping for a quiet back water, you're in the wrong place."
The Bajoran sighed. This first impression was going from bad to worse at a rate of knots. "Sorry, I misunderstood." he said as he took his perch on the stool again. "I thought you'd meant tonight." He shook his head and took a large gulp of the drink before him before adding "That sort of joke won't go down well with mechanics - especially us older ones, Miss. And it's impolite to tease your elders - at least on Bajor it is."
"Oh, sweetie," she reached over the bar and ruffled his hair like a little boy, "Didn't mean to give you a fright. Life here on the edge is just eventful, this afternoon there was something of an incident, for example."
Meryn looked up, puzzled "An incident, you say?" he asked, eying the woman up with a look of half indignity and half playfulness. If she hadn't reminded him of his sisters he'd almost certainly have reacted at the move. She was the better part of a decade his junior, as far as he could tell, and certainly appeared to know how to push her clients' buttons. It unsettled Relma that he may have been summed up so quickly and he retreated to what he knew best and, with an edge of his, dominant, professional side asked "What kind of an incident?".
Now she went positively azure "Ah, the ex head of security, a charming tolerant and generous soul by name of Dorian Gabriel stirred the nascent and bubbling distrust of our pointy eared guests, and was about to cause some serious problems, when his successor arrived to restore the peace. Ineffectual object met powerless force, with, as they say, hilarious resutls." She gave a happy grinned and put the ext drink on the tray. "Security seem to think that all the trouble on this station starts here. I'm not too fond of them, but I run a clean place and i won't fleece you like the ferengi. And its not as if I'm alive with the criminal element. Unlike the klingon place." she dropped a paper umbrella into one drink at a jaunty angle. "Now that is a wretched hive."
Relma sipped his drink again and nodded "The Romulans are not exactly known as a calming influence on a situation. Heck, they're one of the most arrogant species I've ever come across. I faced them at Derna during the War - probably wouldn't be here to talk to you now had Starfleet not intervened. They'd have shot our interceptors out of the skies with impunity. Thanks for the advice though: I'll be sure to stay away from them." He paused for a moment and laughed "But that does sound like the normal Starfleet security types: act like monks on duty, brawl like Nausicaans off it. I bet most of your trouble in here comes from them, and the Marines, when they're on R&R, right?"
"Well," she admitted, "security yes, but the marines tend to behave themselves. The colonel has them on a tight leash and they don't want to lose their privileges." Finally the Singapore sling went onto the tray and she signaled the waitress to pick it up. "As for the Romulans, well I don't know that many, but the ambassador has been very kind to me, and her chief of staff it's very charming, though he's been away for a bit."
Relma feinted another near-choke on his drink "A Romulan?" He spluttered. "Charming? You must be one of the lucky few. I've never met a Romulan anything less than arrogant at best. Though I suppose having been moments from my demise at their hands while defending my own home soil I may be somewhat biased.
She looked puzzled, becoming turquoise. "I thought that was Cardassians?"
Relma rolled his eyes. "Yes, them too. I spent half my life fighting the damned Cardassians one way and another. he replied, his voice beginning to show signs of tension "But, as unfortunately very few people are aware, during the Dominion War the Provisional Government allowed the Romulans to establish a field-hospital on the fourth moon of Bajor, Derna. They then installed plasma torpedoes there: not only in violation of the agreement, but also within range of Bajor itself. We insisted they remove them, but they refused. So we blockaded Derna with impulse ships. I served on Colonel Kira's flagship during the blockade. We were all volunteers, of course, and against us the Romulans sent 14 Warbirds. 1 Warbird could have decimated our blockade - 14 would have massacred us. And had it not been for Starfleet's intervention we would all have died that day." He took an immense gulp of his drink - almost finishing the sickly sweet concoction - and, realising what he was saying, added "But, that was so long ago now, who can remember. I survived it, and worse after." He began to stare at the wall of bottles again, but this time as if he was staring right through them to the far side of the quadrant. Taking another gulp of his drink he placed the empty glass on the bar with a satisfying clunk, his eyes by this point almost having glazed over as memories flooded through.
As if by magic a shot glass appeared in front of him, a clear liquid filling it. "I come from a back water world. Not close enough to federation or any other empire to be worth it The dominion war barely touched us, I can't imagine how hard that must have been for you."
Almost without thinking Meryn grabbed the glass and took the liquid in one gulp. The liquid burned the back of his throat, but he didn't care. His mind had gone to the dark days of the past. "I was in the Militia until the final year of the war. Having to watch what the Dominion did to the Quadrant, and even work for them was one of the hardest things I ever did... and I used to hate collaborators."
The glass refilled itself. "where I come from, preserving a mans life is the most important thing." The hand pouring was turning grey. "you do what ever it takes, however much it costs, to do so. There is no excuse for failure, you do what must be done, or you die trying. To do less is..." A pause. The bottle set aside."the worst crime we have."
Relma snapped himself out of the dark place he had allowed his mind to wander into and, smiling, replied "Preservation of life is always important. That's why I became a soldier: to protect civilians. When protecting Bajor was no longer enough I joined Starfleet. I can't say I know anything of your culture, but I can see good intentions there, even if they go too far." He looked up at the woman, whose face appeared downcast and whose hue was still in flux "I'm sorry, are you ok?"
"Remembering home." She waved a hand to dismiss his concern. "the point is, there a things more important than pride and honour. Debasement is irrelevant, if it means your cause is served. You do what you must."
TBC...
OFF:
Chief Warrant Officer First Class Relma Meryn
Chief Operations Officer
Yolanthe Ibalin
Civilian, Owner of the Box of Delights
by Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin
Post Details
| Title | A taste of the local culture (Part 2). | |
| Mission | Incommunicado | |
| Author(s) | Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin | |
| Posted | Sun Jun 10, 2012 @ 1:03am | |
| Location | The Box of Delights, Promenade Level 2. | |
| Timeline | SD57, 2100 hours. |
"Do Klingon's shit in the woods?" The tall woman replied. "Give me ten minutes."
ON:
The waitress sashayed off, hips swinging. The bartender turned back to her customer, reaching for a new set of ingredients. "Sorry, its manic, Pel's on his break and Leila's sick so I'm on my own for the next twenty minutes." She sloshed liquid into a shaker, a bottle in each hand, pouring by eye. "So, yellow. Operations or Security?"
Relma glanced up, the remnants of the chuckle he'd surreptitiously allowed himself about the Klingons and woods remark still playing on his face, and replied "Operations, Miss, I'm the new Chief: so if any of your systems start playing up please feel free to drop me a repair request, and I'll do my best to put it to the top of the list - Relma is my name." He admired the woman's immense skill as she went about her work behind the bar. He could tell she'd had long and continuous practice. As he took another sip of the concoction in front of him, he mused to himself whether the lifelong skills he'd developed would strike a layman with quite so much awe and admiration. He came to the slightly disappointing conclusion that it probably wouldn't - unless it was a matter of life and death.
At The comment about systems failure, for a moment so brief he couldn't be sure he'd really seen it, she became a matte grey, before steeling back to her original violet. "Well, we're pretty self contained here, so far everything's gone smoothly, even when the promenade blew up"
Relma almost choked on his drink at the comment "What?" he exclaimed, almost jumping out of his seat. "When was this, what happened, where?" He guessed in all the commotion he still hadn't been added to the command networks. He reached for his commbadge to contact Ops and find out what was going on.
"Don't worry, it was a couple of months ago. My opening night of all things." Completed drinks started to line up on the tray. "it's all go round here. if you are hoping for a quiet back water, you're in the wrong place."
The Bajoran sighed. This first impression was going from bad to worse at a rate of knots. "Sorry, I misunderstood." he said as he took his perch on the stool again. "I thought you'd meant tonight." He shook his head and took a large gulp of the drink before him before adding "That sort of joke won't go down well with mechanics - especially us older ones, Miss. And it's impolite to tease your elders - at least on Bajor it is."
"Oh, sweetie," she reached over the bar and ruffled his hair like a little boy, "Didn't mean to give you a fright. Life here on the edge is just eventful, this afternoon there was something of an incident, for example."
Meryn looked up, puzzled "An incident, you say?" he asked, eying the woman up with a look of half indignity and half playfulness. If she hadn't reminded him of his sisters he'd almost certainly have reacted at the move. She was the better part of a decade his junior, as far as he could tell, and certainly appeared to know how to push her clients' buttons. It unsettled Relma that he may have been summed up so quickly and he retreated to what he knew best and, with an edge of his, dominant, professional side asked "What kind of an incident?".
Now she went positively azure "Ah, the ex head of security, a charming tolerant and generous soul by name of Dorian Gabriel stirred the nascent and bubbling distrust of our pointy eared guests, and was about to cause some serious problems, when his successor arrived to restore the peace. Ineffectual object met powerless force, with, as they say, hilarious resutls." She gave a happy grinned and put the ext drink on the tray. "Security seem to think that all the trouble on this station starts here. I'm not too fond of them, but I run a clean place and i won't fleece you like the ferengi. And its not as if I'm alive with the criminal element. Unlike the klingon place." she dropped a paper umbrella into one drink at a jaunty angle. "Now that is a wretched hive."
Relma sipped his drink again and nodded "The Romulans are not exactly known as a calming influence on a situation. Heck, they're one of the most arrogant species I've ever come across. I faced them at Derna during the War - probably wouldn't be here to talk to you now had Starfleet not intervened. They'd have shot our interceptors out of the skies with impunity. Thanks for the advice though: I'll be sure to stay away from them." He paused for a moment and laughed "But that does sound like the normal Starfleet security types: act like monks on duty, brawl like Nausicaans off it. I bet most of your trouble in here comes from them, and the Marines, when they're on R&R, right?"
"Well," she admitted, "security yes, but the marines tend to behave themselves. The colonel has them on a tight leash and they don't want to lose their privileges." Finally the Singapore sling went onto the tray and she signaled the waitress to pick it up. "As for the Romulans, well I don't know that many, but the ambassador has been very kind to me, and her chief of staff it's very charming, though he's been away for a bit."
Relma feinted another near-choke on his drink "A Romulan?" He spluttered. "Charming? You must be one of the lucky few. I've never met a Romulan anything less than arrogant at best. Though I suppose having been moments from my demise at their hands while defending my own home soil I may be somewhat biased.
She looked puzzled, becoming turquoise. "I thought that was Cardassians?"
Relma rolled his eyes. "Yes, them too. I spent half my life fighting the damned Cardassians one way and another. he replied, his voice beginning to show signs of tension "But, as unfortunately very few people are aware, during the Dominion War the Provisional Government allowed the Romulans to establish a field-hospital on the fourth moon of Bajor, Derna. They then installed plasma torpedoes there: not only in violation of the agreement, but also within range of Bajor itself. We insisted they remove them, but they refused. So we blockaded Derna with impulse ships. I served on Colonel Kira's flagship during the blockade. We were all volunteers, of course, and against us the Romulans sent 14 Warbirds. 1 Warbird could have decimated our blockade - 14 would have massacred us. And had it not been for Starfleet's intervention we would all have died that day." He took an immense gulp of his drink - almost finishing the sickly sweet concoction - and, realising what he was saying, added "But, that was so long ago now, who can remember. I survived it, and worse after." He began to stare at the wall of bottles again, but this time as if he was staring right through them to the far side of the quadrant. Taking another gulp of his drink he placed the empty glass on the bar with a satisfying clunk, his eyes by this point almost having glazed over as memories flooded through.
As if by magic a shot glass appeared in front of him, a clear liquid filling it. "I come from a back water world. Not close enough to federation or any other empire to be worth it The dominion war barely touched us, I can't imagine how hard that must have been for you."
Almost without thinking Meryn grabbed the glass and took the liquid in one gulp. The liquid burned the back of his throat, but he didn't care. His mind had gone to the dark days of the past. "I was in the Militia until the final year of the war. Having to watch what the Dominion did to the Quadrant, and even work for them was one of the hardest things I ever did... and I used to hate collaborators."
The glass refilled itself. "where I come from, preserving a mans life is the most important thing." The hand pouring was turning grey. "you do what ever it takes, however much it costs, to do so. There is no excuse for failure, you do what must be done, or you die trying. To do less is..." A pause. The bottle set aside."the worst crime we have."
Relma snapped himself out of the dark place he had allowed his mind to wander into and, smiling, replied "Preservation of life is always important. That's why I became a soldier: to protect civilians. When protecting Bajor was no longer enough I joined Starfleet. I can't say I know anything of your culture, but I can see good intentions there, even if they go too far." He looked up at the woman, whose face appeared downcast and whose hue was still in flux "I'm sorry, are you ok?"
"Remembering home." She waved a hand to dismiss his concern. "the point is, there a things more important than pride and honour. Debasement is irrelevant, if it means your cause is served. You do what you must."
TBC...
OFF:
Chief Warrant Officer First Class Relma Meryn
Chief Operations Officer
Yolanthe Ibalin
Civilian, Owner of the Box of Delights