Post 358: Even a Journey

Stardate: 70807.1259
Subject: Even a Journey...
Author: Lt. Cmdr. Maak
Scene: Seven, USS Independence
Time: After “The Worm Turns” and after “Ironic”

Maak surveyed the scene with interest.

On Arcadia, the bar had been a center of chaos, which Maak knew as a mathematician was quite a useful thing to calculate.

But Seven was an entirely different proposition.

Well lit, but not glaring, tastefully decorated, but not fussy.

The Klingon sidled up to a barstool and planted himself upon it.

“You do that with some practice sir.”

Maak turned to see a young Ensign sticking his hand out.

“By the dirt I see on your nails, you have met our Captain, which I reckon makes you the engineer yes? Maak. Tactical.”

Maak held out his own hand, still a bit organically crusted from the Arboretum.

“Ensign Rada Dengar.”

“Barstool. Practice. Yes. Barstools are excellent for aligning the spine correctly; they thrust the hips out at a proper angle you see, facilitating the flow of energy up the spine and helping keep the chakras clear.”

Rada did not know quite what to say to that, so he simply agreed.

“Yes, indeed.”

“What’s you gents' pleasure this evening, then?”

The bartender had appeared from nowhere and was pleasantly waiting to take an order.

“Is the blood wine any good?” Maak asked, concern written large on his face.

“Ah, well, no, not really sir. Just commercial grade replication.”

“Do you have real alcohol?" It was the Ensigns turn to look very serious with an important inquiry.

“Yes young sir, we do have some, but I’m afraid it’s outside the parameters of normal handle.”

“Handle?”

“He means stock in trade, Ensign.” Maak explained to the side. When Rada still did not understand Maak elaborated. “We need to pay for it.”

“Oh.”

“Not wanting to be crass sir, just by way of elucidation do I give you the situation with it is all. William Patrick London is the name. Everyone calls me Trick.”

“I’m Maak, and this is Rada. Good to meet you sir. Well, if the blood wine is undrinkable, and the alcohol is not free, then I think my young companion and I must begin a journey.”

Trick and Rada looked at Maak with interest, Rada a bit afraid they would storm out and leave.

Satisfied he had an audience, Maak continued. “A journey delving into the pages of the possible, as it were.”

From somewhere on his person Maak produced a wallet thick enough to choke a hungry targ.

He opened one fold of it and withdrew 20 strips of fine gold pressed latinum which he laid upon the counter.

Trick picked up the cash easily without greed or surprise, even though it was an unusually large sum.

“A tab if you please, good barkeep, and I think I shall test you if I may with the order of a Cardassian Grub Slinger.”

“The same sir.” Rada said immediately, turning to Maak. “We shall walk our road together sir, you and I.”

“Cheek by jowl.” The Klingon agreed.

“Side by side.” Rada reiterated.

“Shoulder to shoulder.” Maak reaffirmed.

“That’s two Cardassian Grub Slingers, gents.” Trick had prepared them quickly, expertly, and neatly.

Rada looked at the drink in front of him, a small unidentifiable animal floating in the midst of a cloudy yellow substance.

“Ah these look fantastic. Rada?” Maak held up his drink expectantly at the Ensign, who managed to show enthusiasm as he held his aloft as well.

“To the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” Maak stated earnestly.

“Here here.” Rada managed to return, and bravely tasted his beverage.

Lt. Cmdr. Maak
Tactical Officer
USS Independence
Soulfleet Division
Star Fleet
UFP