12-28-2024, 08:39 PM
Callan Campbell entered Quarks with a mind to have a couple of drinks, do a little people watching, and retire to his quarters. This was his second night on the station and with no idea how long he was going to be there, he figured he should pace himself. More than on his first night at least.
He’d been a keen and green young Starfleet officer in a busy exciting space station full of alien races far from his home on Earth, and he must have looked like such an easy mark for every player and scam artist on board. A kind word, a complimentary drink or three, and he was talked into trying a game of dabo. It was lucky that he came to his senses before he was taken to the cleaners. He hadn’t known how to play the game, but his dislike for card games led him to walk past the tables of tongo players. He had spied a dom-jot table, something he had at least tried before leaving Starfleet Academy, but before reaching it he’d been waylaid by a voluptuous young lady with a nice smile and an easy line to give the dabo wheel a spin and try his luck.
Keep your wits about you this time Cal, he reminded himself.
Still, he felt the novelty of being here, on the legendary Deep Space Nine, the place that his father had been twenty plus years ago, before he was even born. Now Callan was here following his father’s footsteps and career and it was just the best thing.
He headed over to the bar and ordered himself a Bajoran ale, the local brew was a fair bit less potent than his usual tipple, but tonight he needed something to drink slowly while taking in the ambiance and do a little crowd watching. Glancing around the room he saw a good sprinkling of fellow Starfleet personnel enjoying the facilities too, maybe he should stick to chatting with some of them rather than take a chance on some grifter relieving him of his credits again.
The bartender brought him his pint, and he took a sip as he leaned against the bar and unobtrusively take in the sights.
== Tag anyone ==
He’d been a keen and green young Starfleet officer in a busy exciting space station full of alien races far from his home on Earth, and he must have looked like such an easy mark for every player and scam artist on board. A kind word, a complimentary drink or three, and he was talked into trying a game of dabo. It was lucky that he came to his senses before he was taken to the cleaners. He hadn’t known how to play the game, but his dislike for card games led him to walk past the tables of tongo players. He had spied a dom-jot table, something he had at least tried before leaving Starfleet Academy, but before reaching it he’d been waylaid by a voluptuous young lady with a nice smile and an easy line to give the dabo wheel a spin and try his luck.
Keep your wits about you this time Cal, he reminded himself.
Still, he felt the novelty of being here, on the legendary Deep Space Nine, the place that his father had been twenty plus years ago, before he was even born. Now Callan was here following his father’s footsteps and career and it was just the best thing.
He headed over to the bar and ordered himself a Bajoran ale, the local brew was a fair bit less potent than his usual tipple, but tonight he needed something to drink slowly while taking in the ambiance and do a little crowd watching. Glancing around the room he saw a good sprinkling of fellow Starfleet personnel enjoying the facilities too, maybe he should stick to chatting with some of them rather than take a chance on some grifter relieving him of his credits again.
The bartender brought him his pint, and he took a sip as he leaned against the bar and unobtrusively take in the sights.
== Tag anyone ==