In the Name of Goodwill

Posted on Tue Feb 20th, 2018 @ 10:40am by Fleet Admiral Donatella Figueroa & Commander K'Niras Sh'howul

Mission: S01E02 D-8 With the Devil
Location: USS Musashi | The Roosevelt Lounge
Timeline: The night before the boarding

K'Niras wasn't really much for hanging out in a bar or lounge or even the mess hall, for that matter. He did feel like he was missing out on potentially getting to know the crew better by sequestering himself in his room all the time. He was starting to feel like himself again, after the rattling encounter with the Le'Matya aboard the Station. He found himself, on this particular evening, in a quandary. He didn't want to be in his quarters, but he didn't really want to be in the mess hall either. It took him a little bit of wandering around the ship aimlessly before he remembered the Roosevelt Lounge.

Named after the 26th President of the United States on Earth, he was apparently some sort of cowboy, or at least that's how the murals that covered the walls in the lounge portrayed him. He had a big bushy moustache that K'Niras was glad seemed to have gone out of style and small square glasses that sat just on the bridge of his nose. It was strange to cover the walls with someone so far in the past. K'Niras thought that perhaps he was some sort of rugged hero of Earth.

The Caitian made his way to the bar and slid up onto a barstool. He always hated being short. He was very small for a Caitian male and lacked the mane as well. His mother always said it was something about his uncommon fur coloring that caused him to be the runt of the litter. There were other people in the lounge. Not many, but enough to cause K'Niras to look over his shoulder. A group was laughing and talking around a table. Crewman Truff was standing at the table and stomping his hooved feet with glee at some sort of story or joke that was happening. K'Niras watched the Tellarite with fascination. He didn't know much about the species, but they were sure loud. He lay his ears back to block out some of the noise and ordered an Andorian ale from the bartender.

The Tellarite was definitely a loud guy for sure with his stomping of his hooved feet and his bellyful laugh. He was good for morale, but terrible for causing headaches. "And I said that's not my girlfriend you dumb Nausicaan, but it is your sister!" shouted the Tellarite delivering some awkward punchline to some terrible sexual joke, but it got the table laughing. "Well, you know where to find me. I'm here all night... that's all folks," he said waving his hand and departing from the table.

Turning, the engineer caught sight of the ship's Second Officer. "Oh Lieutenant, you came to hear my stand up comedy too? I'm flattered," teased the Tellarite who did not have any problem socializing with anyone. It was like the ranks just did not deter him from cracking a joke or teasing a superior. He approached the bartender and asked for a Bull Moose. It was served in a nice frosted mug and had a good foamy head on it.

Crewmen Truff, or 'Truffle' as some of his shipmates called him took a seat at the bar right next to the Second Officer. "What brings you down here this time of night, Lieutenant?" asked the Crewmen. "Bet you were just lying in bed like me and ya just couldn't sleep, not a wink. My mind is racing about the mission in the morning. I just want to give those Klingons a left and right and another left, and WHAM uppercut them and send those teeth flying."

K'Niras took a long drink of his Andorian ale and looked at the Crewman. "I am normally awake at this hour, but I did not wish to stay in my quarters as usual. You seem to be having a good time," he commented. There was something about the lack of protocol that Truff possessed that annoyed K'Niras. He was always a stickler for the rules. At least the Crewman wasn't calling the Caitian by his first name. He tried to just bite his tongue and ignore it. They were in a social setting afterall.

"Yeah," replied Truff with a chuckle. He took a sip of his Bull Moose and wiped the frothy foamy head of the drink out from his beard. "These are dark times, Lieutenant. Things are so tense with the Klingons right now and we are literally about to arrive on their doorstep trying to prevent this war from happening. Everyone is all gloom and doom around here lately. I wanted to come down here and see if I could make some people laugh," he said explaining his joyful presence. "I like to lift morale when I can."

K'Niras nodded. "It seems that you do a rather good job of it too. At least people can be happy for a moment, right? And you're right. The war is heavy on everyone's mind. It is good to make light of things every now and then. Too much seriousness can be detrimental to your health, hence I am here, and not locked in my quarters for yet another night." He took another drink.

"And we wouldn't want that" said Donatella, approaching the bar, catching the tail end of the exchange between the two. "Crewmen," she said with a nod at Truff.

He, in return, nodded at her, his posture becoming quickly more tight and enclosed, more professional even in his body language. His tone matched. "Captain," he said in response to her.

Fig did not need to say anything further. When she pulled up a stool and sat next to K'Niras, it was enough of an indicator to Crewmen Truff that his time with the Lieutenant had come to an end. He retreated from the bar and sought refuge among a table with a group of lower ranking officers and some enlisted men. "He's a cute kid... annoying as heck, but means well," she said after he was out of hearing distance.

K'Niras nodded again. "He is indeed, Captain. He seems to have a gift for making people... happy." He smiled a little, only showing his front teeth. "Is this where you normally spend your evenings?" K'Niras was a little perplexed as to why the Captain would be in the lounge. Of course, he himself was never in the lounge, so he wasn't familiar with people's routines. Perhaps the Captain came here every night.

"When I'm not pregnant with the enemy's demon spawn, yes," she said with a small sigh. "Sometimes at least. I like to order a glass of wine or two before I call it a night, but as resilient as Klingons may be... medical staff is saying no to my consuming anything stronger than prune juice," she said somewhat serious, but not exactly about the prune juice part. "Since my pregnancy, I haven't really stopped in aside from grabbing a bite to eat and making the once in a lifetime appearance of the Commanding Officer for some of the enlisted night shifters before their shift starts."

The Caitian chuckled. It was sort of a chortling, rumbling noise. "I am sorry about your pregnancy though. Have you decided what you are going to do?" He finishes his glass of ale and asked for another one, his gaze turning to his Captain and her slowly swelling belly. He couldn't even imagine carrying a child conceived of rape. His people did not allow such abhorrent behavior. Rapists were not tolerated at all and were often run out of their Clan or killed, depending on the severity and the decision of the Clan. It didn't happen often.

Captain Figueroa took a glass from the bartender. It was entirely virginal and had nothing that would knowingly harm the child she carried. "Carrying it to term and giving birth to it," she said after taking a sip. "At least that is the plan. After that, I really do not know. Starfleet Command is likely not going to be pleased when they do finally learn that I am pregnant with a Klingon hybrid. The hard part is going to be carrying it for the next few months and then going into labor. I am scared about losing it due to complications, and that's concerning me. Why am I concerned with the child of my enemy, a child I never wanted?"

"It's still your child too," the Lieutenant said softly, his ears laying back again. "I'm concerned that your physiology may be so different that carrying it to term will become life threatening or dangerous. We only know about the Klingons as much as we have learned from their corpses and very little about their mating practices or what it is like to carry a Klingon child. I only wish to keep you safe, Captain..." He sipped from his second glass of ale. His people were not fond of alcohol, but K'Niras was. He had always had a better tolerance for it then his littermates, and besides this was synthohol.

"You and everyone else aboard, Lieutenant," she said flashing a smile. "Nurse Vinia is keeping track of me. She has been monitoring the child and myself for any sign of problems with genetic issues. So far, so good. My body hasn't rejected the embryo and is allowing it to grow," said Fig. "This mission tomorrow will likely be one of my last if not last until after the child is born. After this, I have to take it a little easier on myself for the sake of the child," she confessed. "I want to do it on my own terms before the Chief Medical Officer or the Nurse come down on me with orders to put me on some sort of forced maternity leave."

He nodded, his whiskers twitching a little. "I know they will look after you and I am glad to hear that you are not going to push yourself to exhaustion. I am nervous about tomorrow though. I think I would be crazy if I wasn't nervous. We are charging head first into the proverbial lion's den..." He continued to sip at his drink. "I thought about bring my PaDD and studying my maps, but it seemed a little much when I'm trying to quiet my mind."

She nodded understanding fully well what he was talking about. They were indeed heading right into the lion's den, and that was a dangerous game to play with the Klingons, but these were desperate times and Starfleet Command had agreed with Fig's course of action, a proverbial hail mary throw. "Well, I cannot say this will calm your mind, but I do have this to discuss with you," she said sliding the tablet over towards him. "Mister Jakku believes he may have found Kazar, the home of the Kazarites... or at least an area we can search for their home world. It's still a few stacks of hay, but our needle might just be somewhere here," she said indicating a part of the Alpha Quadrant. "He's narrowed his suspicions to this patch of star systems," she added.

K'Niras' ears shot up and his tail bounced. He gasped softly. "Really? Amazing!" He reached for the PaDD. "I would have never thought... even my own people considered them lost. You know, I tried asking my people. They sort of laughed at me, but this is amazing! If we pull off tomorrow... will we be going here?" He was staring at the map on the screen of the tablet, his whiskers twitching.

"You can bet your whiskers on it, K'Niras" she said placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'll make arrangements first thing when we get back from the Klingon shipyard" she said. "Well, after warp the hell out of the Boreth system and cross well within Federation borders again. Jakku also thought he was not going to find it, but apparently it was the Xindi of all people who actually helped him locate this region of space as their suspected home world" she explained.

She looked at her Second Officer. "Since I will be taking it light, I was thinking of leaving Samuels in command. Maybe the two of us can see this hunt for the Kazarites through ourselves. I am a fairly well decorated Starfleet Captain and war veteran. I think I can arrange this to be sanctioned," she said with a smile.

He lifted his gaze from the PaDD and eyed his Captain, his whiskers still twitching. "Captain? I would be honored and more than happy to go. I am a fair pilot, although I'm sure you are much better at it. I have always been curious. Do you think they will take on our... passenger?" K'Niras spoke of the Le'matya, of course. It was almost a shame they had to give it away, doomed a life of loneliness without the prospect for a mate on a strange planet, far from it's home. Of course at least it would have a life there. The Vulcans did not want it back at any cost and would euthanize it before they even considered returning it to their wild. This might be its only change at any kind of survival.

"There's no telling if the Kazarites will welcome the Le'matya or not since we know nothing of their culture to accurately predict their response. We do not even know an exact location of their world, but if we are going to give our passenger a chance, it's going to be with these Kazarites," she said. "He's not really going to fit in a shuttle comfortably, that's for sure," she said with a smile. "He's about the size of an adult lion, maybe a tad smaller," added Fig. Not really into the whole Life of Pi thing, she thought to herself. "I think it is best that I try to commandeer a starship," suggested Fig.

K'Niras chuckled. "I suppose you're right. I would like it even less if he broke loose on said shuttle and gobbled us up." He turned back to his drink. "Do you think that someone will loan us a starship for a little bit? A mission of mercy perhaps?" He wanted to see the Le'matya free.

Donatella laughed a little and nodded. "I am sure that I can convince an Admiral or two to help if necessary. Someone is bound to be heading that way or we will just seize some impressionable young Commanding Officer of a science or cargo vessel. This would be the Federations first contact with the Kazarites and the ability to put Kazar on official star charts, Lieutenant. Pitch it like that, and a young Commanding Officer will jump at the opportunity to have his or her name go down in Federation history classes as being present for the first contact with the Kazarites."

"You make a good point, Captain. You can count me in. If the Klingon's don't lay my hide on their floor tomorrow night." He chuckled. His statement was grim, but he was attempting to make light. The thought of Klingon's skinning him like he was some sort of prize trophy amused him.

Fig shook her head. “Oh no no. You don’t have to worry about that, Lieutenant. Believe me, I know Klingons fairly well from being their hostage. They will not skin you and use you as some sort of Caitian skin rug or fur coat,” said the Captain. “It would be too sickeningly comfortable to them. They don’t do luxury. If anything, they would just serve you as dinner with something they call blood wine.”

"Hmmm... I thought they only ate live food..." the Caitian drolled casually, sipping his drink.

She nodded “Typically from what I have observed, yes. However, they will feed dead scraps to those who aren’t in their favor,” she explained. “Regardless, let’s not become anyone’s food, Lieutenant,” added Fig. She took the PaDD and stood from the bar seat. “I need to get some rest, but I’ll see you in the morning.”

"Goodnight, Captain. Sweet dreams. I should retire as well." He stood and drained the last of his drink. "And Captain, thank you again."

Captain Figueroa looked at the Caitian and nodded. “Always, Lieutenant” she replied as she walked through the doors of the Roosevelt.