04-26-2024, 02:29 AM
“It seems the Klingon Empire is removing my people from being able to join their armed forces, until we can modernize ourselves to their satisfaction. Something about culture shock, and integration with Klingon culture. But I suspect it has something to do with the fact that we're stronger than the average Klingon.”
As Beinn spoke to Jensen, Art snorted into her beer. She suspected it had more to do with an average Klingon’s uncomfortability battling next to a giant, furry, sentient version of a pet, and not so much who had the largest… teeth.
Jensen took a nice swig of the drink he was proffered, and swung around to greet some more crew who had entered the bar. Art stole a glance over that way, and said a non-verbal hello, but wasn’t exactly moved to move.
“Let’s get this party started!” Someone loud and familiar yelled, and a Ferengi moved -begrudgingly, it seemed- to turn up the music, and turn down the lights. The bass thumped in her chest, and it did make Art smile, so she decided to not be mad about it. The drink, on the other hand, had to change.
“Next step up, please.” She ordered, finishing off her glass.
“Firewire?” asked the bartender, confirming if the officer wanted to stay with more of a smooth versus a carbonated taste.
Art thought for a moment, asking, “Unless you’ve got some good Saurian brandy back there?” She was pleased to see the odd-shaped bottle. When asked how many ‘shots’ she wanted, her response was, “At least a couple.” The Ferengi poured three and a half, and the Klingon seemed satisfied.
She took a sip and turned around to fully face the rest of the bar, scoping out who was there, and who was talking to whom. Black and Papaver seemed to be the ones heading up the good time.
As Beinn spoke to Jensen, Art snorted into her beer. She suspected it had more to do with an average Klingon’s uncomfortability battling next to a giant, furry, sentient version of a pet, and not so much who had the largest… teeth.
Jensen took a nice swig of the drink he was proffered, and swung around to greet some more crew who had entered the bar. Art stole a glance over that way, and said a non-verbal hello, but wasn’t exactly moved to move.
“Let’s get this party started!” Someone loud and familiar yelled, and a Ferengi moved -begrudgingly, it seemed- to turn up the music, and turn down the lights. The bass thumped in her chest, and it did make Art smile, so she decided to not be mad about it. The drink, on the other hand, had to change.
“Next step up, please.” She ordered, finishing off her glass.
“Firewire?” asked the bartender, confirming if the officer wanted to stay with more of a smooth versus a carbonated taste.
Art thought for a moment, asking, “Unless you’ve got some good Saurian brandy back there?” She was pleased to see the odd-shaped bottle. When asked how many ‘shots’ she wanted, her response was, “At least a couple.” The Ferengi poured three and a half, and the Klingon seemed satisfied.
She took a sip and turned around to fully face the rest of the bar, scoping out who was there, and who was talking to whom. Black and Papaver seemed to be the ones heading up the good time.