Posted by Captain Graham Martin (CO) in On the Promenade - Beers, Brews and Bar Fights

Posted by Lieutenant Do’trahk of House Kholl (Chief Medical Officer) in On the Promenade - Beers, Brews and Bar Fights

Posted by Civilian Evelyn “Evie” McGarrett (Co-Owner of Been There Brewed That Brewery) in On the Promenade - Beers, Brews and Bar Fights
Posted by… suppressed (3) by the Post Ghost! 👻
“Here it is,” the Klingon wearing the black armour threw his arms out wide as he stood outside the entrance to Evelyn’s Been There, Brewed That Brewery on the Promenade of the station. “Best coffee on the station! It’s real you know, there was a human here called Duncan Rhodes last time I was here, he has some kind of business back on Earth. Anyway, he organized for a selection of real coffee to be on the shipping manifests for this place, and this place alone on the station. Every kind, Human, Vulcan, Tellarite and even our own Raktajino beans. Everyone comes here at some point, it’s the unofficial lounge of the Station.”

“Why are there pictures all over the walls?” The large Klingon wearing Starfleet medical green asked, looking through the door. “It’s kind of creepy.”

“Yes, it is,” Khain, the Armour wearing Klingon nodded. “Lets go in, but watch that plant I told you about. If you brush against it, it will shoot little vines out, grab you, rip your flesh and drink your blood. It’s adorable really. She keeps it in the kitchen and calls it Eloise.” Holding up his hand, he showed his brother several scars across his fingers. “I think Eloise likes me.”

“She would be the first to like you brother,” Do’trahk smirked, “but not the first to drink your blood. You remember that eight armed female on Oceania you picked up at the bar? With the tentacles? She.....” He was cut off by Khain suddenly holding out a hand and pointing at a large display case beside the counter. “What is that? That wasn’t here last time I was here.” The interruption was deliberate, the last thing Khain wanted to remember was what that female had done with her tentacles.

The two made their way over to the glass dome that had several shelves on the inside and once reaching it leaned over, nearly pushing their noses against the glass as they tried to see what was inside. “Last time here they made everything fresh on demand or replicated it, this is new,” Khain repeated, then eyed one of the items inside. “What is that? it looks… pretty.”

Do’trahk followed Khains gaze to the shelf inside the glass. On a tray were a selection of round shaped pastries. Some were covered in some kind of hard shell, others with what looked like a sugary coating. Many of them had bright colours and small colourful looking rocks sprinkled on top.

Raising his lips in a show of distaste, Do’trahk looked at his brother. “They call them Donuts. They are made of a spongey type of bread, filled with sweet sugar and then coated in melted candy flavoured in various ways. Humans adore them, and seem to gravitate towards them whenever they have coffee. Especially the Humans in the Security department. I believe it is some kind of ritual, but haven’t been able to work out why yet.”

“That is disgusting,” Khain stood up and shook his head, looking around and seeing several Starfleet personnel with coffee and donuts on their plates. Looking back at the donuts in the cabinet he shuddered. “This is like a little shop of horrors.” He looked at the other items in the cabinet, cookies, slices of cake and other various sweet dishes, all of them smelling sweet and fresh, and very much hand made. “Where is Evie? Time to get that coffee I told you about.”

Do’trahk and Khain of House Kholl

“Where are your manners? I don’t care if you are Klingon or how many battles you have fought but if you try to put your feet on my table you will get a spatula up your butt. Fair warning,” Evie McGarrett said slinging a dishtowel over her shoulder and pulling out a camera.

“Klingon’s do not put their feet on a table,” Khain looked insulted, “we are warriors, not Starfleet layabouts! Well, all except for my brother Do’trahk here. He’s your new CMO Evie, I thought it best to come and introduce him to the Outposts real personnel officer. And get his picture taken.” At that, Khain thumped Do’trahk on the back, hard, making the big Klingon in medical green scowl. “What Picture?”

“Do’trahk,” she said his name and then instantly took the Klingon’s picture. The flash was bright and almost as blinding as the sun. Evie had found that without the flash the pictures always were dark and since Klingon’s normally wore all black or dark colors, anything to brighten them up helped. Looking at the image, Evie let out a small laugh. “Well we can always say you were getting ready to go into battle,” she said turning and showing the picture to him.

Evie McGarrett

“Look at that! You got his pretty side!” Khain let out a thundering roar as he looked at the picture.

“It does have a kind of air to it,” Do’trahk admitted. The picture was the face of Do’trahk, scowling at the thump that his brother had just given him after looking at Evie quickly. He looked decidedly angry and about to wound someone. “I like it,” he nodded, “except for that ugly mug in the background.” Behind Do’trahk was half of Khains face, clearly smirking at his brothers back.

“Evie, we’ll take coffee and two of those evil looking donuts,” Khain told her. “How’s things? Anything exciting happening on the station?”

Do’trahk, CMO

“The Keltarn Circus that came through. They are running shows twice a day for a month. They were pretty good but the mime’s roaming about the promenade between shows can be a bit grating. I swear every time you open a turbo there is someone inside pretending they are trying to get out. The Rinqnar’s are finding it hysterical but the rest of us not so much although,” she leaned over the counter, “it is pretty darn funny when they target the Ferengi. The Ferengi are completely convinced the mime’s are doing it towards them for a tip which as you might guess,” she let out a chuckle, “just completely encourages the mimes. If I am going to be honest, I have tipped the mime’s a few time to target up the Ferengi. I will probably go to hell for it,” Evie straightened up adjusting the hand towel on her shoulder, “but I will be in good company.”

“Oh I have no doubt the Ferengi think they want a tip. Just as much as I doubt the Ferengi would ever give them one,” Khain grinned and then leaned in closer to his brother. “What’s a mime?” he whispered. “Do’trahk looked at him sideways and shrugged slightly. “I have no idea,” he whispered back.

Reaching into the case she pulled out two donuts along with a tube of icing. Squeezing the bag, she piped on a stick figure with a devils tail and pitchfork in the hand before presenting it to the Klingons.

Evie Mc Garrett.

“It looks like your mother,” Do’trahk teased Khain ands held up the donut, examining it with a smirk. Khain grunted and took his, along with the coffee. “At least I know who my mother was.” And he elbowed Do’trahk in the ribs. “Thank you Evie, you are a saint among the plebeians. How long is that circus staying around for?”

Turning to find a table, Do’trahk came face to face with a man with white paint over his face standing right behind him, said face only inches away from his, and the man had his hands splayed out wide beside his head like he was pressed up against some kind of invisible force field. Grunting in surprise, Do’trahk did the only honorable thing he could. His fist clamped down tight around the donut it was holding, and he swung that fist in a short, sharp uppercut right into the chin of the mime. If there was a force field blocking him, the big Klingon simply broke through it and the force of that punch lifted the Mime bodily off the floor, throwing him back onto a table where three more men with white face paint sat. That table collapsed under the sudden impact of a body, and the drinks covering it shattered and covered the men that had been, up till a moment ago, enjoying those drinks.

“Oh my god, that is sticky!” Do’trahk exclaimed looking at the crushed donut and the candy and jam filling and toppings now squished between his fingers. “This can’t be good for you!”

Do’trahk of House Kholl, cMO

Graham was a tall, brunette, stocky, quiet gentleman. He walked in with the sole purpose of scoping the scenery out.

Martin, CO

“Nothing ever good is,” Evie came around the corner and extended a hand to help the mime up. Instantly her mom tone came out as she looked at the man with the white face and black and white clothes. “Oh don’t be all mime mad right now. Not everyone wants to be all,” she began to gesture wildly like a mime out of control. “You know there are races that just don’t find mime’s funny?”

The look on the mime’s face and a body gestures had Evie put an arm around the man as she escorted him to the door. “Yes yes I know Klingons can be bullies and lack a funny bone but we all need to get along now right,” her tone took on the consoling tone of a mom as she patted the mime. “Now run off and come back later. I will have those pastries you like,” she shooed him out of the cafe. Walking over to the table she crossed her arms and looked at the Klingons. “Was that necessary? Yes Mime’s are annoying, weird, and at times totally freaky reaching clown stalker status in my book but you hurt his feelings. He just got out of Mime college. He will get better so,” Evie pulled the donut out of the Klingon’s mouth as he was just about to take a bite, “next time give him a little oh I am so surprised face,” she instructed and demonstrated the emotion.”

“Well if you don’t,” she took a bite of the donut and handed it back to the Klingon raising an eyebrow, “I will be out of your favorite dessert next time.”

Leaning in Evie added, “oh yeah. I am the bomb at making those just like Mama Klingon so watch it.” Putting on the surprises expression she demonstrated a few minutes earlier, she pointed at her face and nodded.

Looking to her right, she noticed Graham. “Well hello skipper,” she said and pulled out her camera taking a picture of him before even asking still not turning the flash off so the light was blinding.

Evie McGarrett