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Coffee And A Twink

Posted on Wed Sep 6th, 2017 @ 8:36am by Ensign Vecon Fick & Lieutenant K'Laus

Mission: Into The Wild
Location: USS Pandora | Deck 5 | The Luna Eclipse
Timeline: Current

When the Klingon arrived at the Mess Hall roughly half an hour ago, it was like a ghost town. There were only a handful of people there. However, as the minutes passed and a shift rotation occurred, the room quickly began to fill up as officers and enlisted personnel filed in and started taking up tables and occupying chairs, pulling some away from other areas and politely asking to take them away from tables with only one or two occupants. The Klingon Supply Officer was of course being his normal introverted and antisocial self, taking the table in the corner of the room and placing his back toward nobody. It was the most defensible position. Defendable against what? A Flying Talaxian hair pasta monster would be more likely to attack than anyone aboard the Pandora.

The room was full of noise and it was getting on K'Laus' nerves. He hated noise of this volume. Too many voices, too many people, too much everything! It was a sensory overload. So much movement around the room that he could not keep track of everyone at once. Multiple targets. He needed to retreat. The provisional lieutenant proceeded over towards the food and beverage replicator nearest his position and ordered himself a hot Delavian Mocha Landslide with a whipped chocolate mouse topping. As he turned around he saw that his table was in risk of being taken over by two advancing crewmen. "Sit there and I WILL SLIT YOUR THROATS!" growled the Klingon glaringly.

That seemed to do the trick just nicely. Though K'Laus expected to be called into someone's office later about harassing or threatening his shipmates. On a Klingon vessel this was an everyday occurrence. Even on a Talarian ship this would have been tolerable from a superior. On these Federation starships the crew were very pathetic. They did not take kindly to anything. You could not even punch another officer let alone slap a wench on her rear. How are they to know you desire their nightly company? thought K'Laus. Klingons would growl and hiss at one another and bit one the cheek. Talarians would slap a potential mate's rear or try to trade something for their services. K'Laus recaptured his table, but it was only a matter of minutes before someone else closed in on the table and sat down.

This caused K'Laus to look up from the PaDD he had been concentrating on. He was instinctively going to snarl at them, but when he saw who it was he was flabbergasted. "Oh Fick me!" he shouted. "Fick the little tick," he added as he glared at the young ensign. "WHAT DO YOU WANT?" the Klingon said in a strong but low growl.

Fick plopped down in the other chair at the Klingon's table, the one that people had been too afraid to steal from him. He also set down a plate of something that looked like cabbage rolls and a glass of colorful liquid. "Hello K'Laus. I see you're doing well. I've made some progress on the motorcycle. You should come see it?" He smiled and started to cut into his hasperat. "How's your day been?" he asked when he was done chewing his first bite.

The Klingon grunted. "Peachy" he said, using a simple human saying he learned over the years of serving with these pathetic Earthers. "It is good to hear you were able to make progress on that death contraption" added K'Laus with a bellyful chuckle that would have made the late great High Chancellor K'mpec approve in admiration. "If you fall off that contraption again, I may not be there to save you. The ship's examiner may need to comes collect your brain matter from the deck plating" jested the Klingon with another chuckle.

Shaking his head and contorting his face at the hasperat, the Klingon glared at Fick. "Disgusting Bajoran food," he bellowed as he took another chug of his drink. "How fitting that you would enjoy that."

Fick looked up at K'Laus with amusement on his face, a bit of Hasperat still in his mouth. He bit through it and started talking again with his mouth full of food. "Hey now, I like all sorts of food, but my father is Bajoran... if you hadn't noticed." He pointed to the ridges on his nose that started just below the Risian circle on his forehead. "... And he sort of made me have a taste for the food. To be honest, Hasperat is really the only thing I like... aside from some of the pies. Those are pretty good. I also like Racht and it smells pretty bad." He shrugged, swallowing his food and going for another bite. "Maybe I like smelly food..." He looked up at the Klingon.

Lieutenant K'Laus looked at the young ensign, studying his facial features. "It is very difficult not to notice those unfortunate slits running down your nose," said the Klingon, gesturing to the man's Bajoran heritage by running his index finger down his Klingon nose. "I am sure you could have them surgically altered to erase your Bajoran parentage if you so desired," added K'Laus.

The Klingon did not dare take another whiff. "It smells as they used the whole rat in that hasperat," grumbled the Klingon. "Of course you like smelly food. You are what you eat. I believe that is the saying," he said chortling.

Fick rubbed his nose and tried not to get mad about the suggestion that he would even consider erasing his Bajoran heritage. "It's sort of a stupid saying though. I mean everyone likes something that other people don't like. That's what makes us so deliciously different." He grinned at the Klingon. "What kind of food do you like? Do you even eat much Klingon food? Have you ever had Klingon food?" He was looking at the K'Laus curiously.

"Most things the Earthers say are ridiculous and make no sense to me," replied K'Laus. "Deliciously different... what are you some kind of Risian cream puff?" countered the Klingon shaking his head. "I have spent the past few years learning more about my Klingon heritage and have had dozens of Klingon dishes. It is for the most part revolting," he said sharply. "They do have one thing that I like. Krada legs with a nice grapok sauce."

Fick chuckled. "For the most part I really like Klingon food. I think Racht is my favorite. I just love the way it wiggles and I like eating with my fingers. I do really like the Krada legs, but I also like the Pipius claw. Klingon's seem to really know how make that sort of thing just right and you're right. The grapok sauce is really good. I also really love a really good Bregit lung. However, it doesn't taste right out of a replicator. I have to go somewhere where I can have REAL Bregit lung and not that replicated crap and of course there's Raktajino. I mean we definitely have Klingon's to thank for that! I don't think I would function very well without it. It's a nice pick-me-up in the morning and I like to have one in the evening as well sometimes. Oh! Oh and firewine! I love firewine! It's got such a great kick! It seems like all of Risa's drinks are fruity or sweet... I mean don't get me wrong... there's plenty of beer, but there's nothing like firewine! So spicy." He shuddered as if he'd just had a shot of liquid. "Mm... I don't like to do it that often cause the hangover really sucks. I'm sure your body is more suited for it. Hey... I wanted to ask you.. do you do martial arts? I do... I thought maybe sometime you'd like to get together..."

SHUT UP! thought Lieutenant K'Laus, but even a loud Klingon growl was not about to end this ensign's ranting and rambling. The Klingon did not know what to do. It was as though he had sat down with a Bolian, the little Risan was talking a mile a minute with changing subjects before K'Laus could get a word in. Not that the Klingon even cared to get a word in but damn!

K'Laus looked around the room and saw a man approaching with a plate of dessert looking items. Small cakes, tiny pies, and pastries. The Klingon turned in his seat, snatch up an elongated yellow cake with a white creamy filling. The passing man was caught off guard, but was not about to start a fight with the thieving Klingon. Lieutenant K'Laus stood up abruptly from his seat, knocking the chair over as he walked towards Vecon Fick and shoved the golden yellow Earth elongated cake into his mouth, practically smearing the filling on Vecon's face. "YOU TALK TOO MUCH!" he shouted and snarled at the younger man. "I will NEVER get together with you," added the Klingon as he started to walk away from the table.

Fick was stopped mid-sentence by the cake suddenly in his mouth. His eyes widened in surprise and once his brain caught up to what had happened he chuckled and bit into the cake, watching the Klingon walk away from him. He leaned back in his chair, grinning widely, enjoying the view and the cake.

END

 

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