Posted by Commander Garinder’Jen th’Jir (Executive Officer (Incoming )) in Pre Christening - Jen Meets the CO
Starbase 157 had seen better days though was much better than many that Jen had seen. Dressed in his civilian dress that was a cream colored Andorian tunic that had been mistaken on earth to be Indian in origin. Below he was in blue jeans. On an engagement near the Orion system he had been introduced to them and found them durable and comfortable. And the blue looked nice. What one would call ‘loafers’ completed the ensemble. All of these had seen wear and was very ‘lived in’. His dark blue complexion and white silken hair on his head, along with the cream tunic combined with the dim lighting of the ‘Dizzy Goat’ made his face look not unlike a large blue oblong grape. The Dizzy Goat was a small wanna be bar off the beaten path. Most ‘Fleeters’ didn’t care for it - it wasn’t classy enough for them. Or clean. Or have the range of stock that other bars had. But this Dizzy Goat didn’t serve synthehol. He liked that, even if he was only drinking a lager brewed on Mars. It was called an Ollie, short for Olympus after one of their mountains. And it was blue, which was a plus for Jen. He was on his third Ollie as he casually watched a mixed martial arts tournament. Thus far he was .. unimpressed.

However it gave him time to muse over his new assignment. After being whisked here by the USS Alamo it was classic ‘hurry up and wait’. That was something the Army and Navy had in common apparently. He picked up the pale bottle and wiggled it back and forth in his hand and determined that it was empty enough. He signaled the bartender, a skinny slip of a Bolian girl, for another. He thought her shading of blue was attractive, but he was so not into ‘that’ slim. They were between rounds now and, for a change, he turned in the chair to scan the rest of the patrons.
- Jen, XO to be

Kelly walked into the room as if she owned it casting a glance neither right or left but straight to the bar. Her pace was easily described by some as walking with a purpose with the click of her stilettos on the floor acting like a metronome. Several eyes drifted her way as she crossed the space but it was to be expected with the way she was dressed. Her form-fitting dark purple dress hugged every curve with a bodice designed to prompt the response eyes up here. Kelly was not dressed for a joint like this yet a bar like this gave her anonymity from prying eyes.

It had not been the night she was expecting. After limping into port, she had received nothing but headaches with the worst coming from her husband. She should have known when Ian had told her to get dressed up because they were going out was not to give her a bright spot to the day. Slipping onto a bar stool, Kelly drummed the bar with her palms. It was not to hurry the wait staff but to expel energy. Looking to her right Kelly took in a large well built man a series of tattoos spreading up from his neck. In her more wild and wooly days, a night of conversation with him would have resulted in rounds of coffee with Dante nursing a hang over. Looking to her left was an Androrian sporting a pair of jeans that certainly dressed his outfit down to the more causal level. This set her mind wandering. Men rarely mixed and matched like that. They were either dressed to the nines or kicking back in jeans.

Kelly watched the Bolian waitress drop the drink and move over to her. “You gonna mix me a sorrow,” Kelly leaned back in her seat addressing the woman. Seeing her joke fell as flat as her mood, Kelly tried again. “Sorry,” she twirled a finger at the woman’s name badge of Mixea Soro. “Give me a whiskey neat....but make it a double and bring the bottle,” Kelly mulled over her order before giving the waitress a nod letting her know she was finished.

Kelly Bordeaux