Posted by Commander Richard “Ricochet” O’Shea (Cmd Air Group (CAG)) in SB 257 - Klingon Bar (Attn: Ric)

Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Srothell Ch’zaolrirh (Chief Security Officer) in SB 257 - Klingon Bar (Attn: Ric)

Posted by Commander Richard “Ricochet” O’Shea (Cmd Air Group (CAG)) in SB 257 - Klingon Bar (Attn: Ric)
Posted by… suppressed (1) by the Post Ghost! 👻
The promenade of SB 257 had quieted down since the Olinski’s arrival. There were still one or two shops open, including a small Klingon tavern. Ch’zaolrirh had spotted the tavern on the way in and figured it was as good a place as any to end the night. Once he and Ric could see it, he pointed it out. “I’m sure they’ve got something stronger there.”

Above the door was a crude sign. it read, “HIq naDev.” Klingon for, “Drink Here.” Inside, there were a few tables, Most of the patrons were in Star Fleet uniform, with the exception of a loan Saurian. When the two officers entered, it looked as though he was staring. However, that was just how he always looked.

Taking their seats, the Klingon barman wasted no time coming over. Smacking his hands on the table, he began to speak: “DujlIj ‘oH!?”

Ch’zaolrirh’s antannae twitched at the sound. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but he felt fairly confident, he could order a drink at this point. Clearing his throat and furling his brow slightly, he responded, “Chech’tluth.”

The Klingon barely gave the COS a nod before turning towards Ric, “‘EJ?”

COS Ch’zaolrih

Ric’s Klingon was a bit rusty, but he was pretty sure he was just asked what he wanted to drink. Searching his memory for the right phrase, he repled, “nIm wIb ngogh je waqmey HInob. ‘oH.”

The look on the Klingons face indicated to Ric that his language skills were rustier than he first thought.

Ricochet (CAG)

The waiter slammed both of his hands on the table. With a grunt, he shoved off… hopefully to get their drinks.

Ch’zaolrirh blinked, “He is either coming back with our drinks or a bat’leth.” The COS relaxed into his seat. Although the black and white ball was meant to be recreational, he had felt on duty during the entire affair. It might have been the captain’s presence or it might have just been his formal uniform. Either was it was good to finally grab a break. He looked over at Ric, “So Commander, how are you doing?”

COS Ch’zaolrirh

Ric kept his eyes on the large Klingon as he continued his conversation with the COS.

“I’m good, at least for the moment. . . uh, Chaz, my Klingonese is a bit rusty. I didn’t say anything offensive to the big guy, did I? Now that I think about, I may have called his mother a hamster, by accident.”

The two could hear their waiter raising his voice, speaking/yelling at another Klingon at the bar. Looks and fingers and fists were pointed and shaken in the direction of the only two non-Klingons in the place.

“He’s looking a bit disgruntled. I can probably talk my way out of it, but just in case, you’ve got my back, right?”

Ricochet (CAG)

“It might be tough. Commander Harn doesn’t let me carry my Ushaan-Torr on duty,” the Andorian joked. A moment later the waiter returned with two glasses. Plopping them onto the table with some force, he called out “Heghlu’meH QaQ jajvam.” With that, he walked off.

Ch’zaolrirh peered over the tops. The Chech’tluth was smoking, but that was normal. Pulling the glass towards him, a puzzled look came over his face as he looked at Ric’s drink. The concoction was cloudy and white. Unable to make sense of the commander’s order, the waiter settled on bringing him some Klingon Targ Milk. By the looks of it, the commander had managed to order it chunky.

“Is that… milk?”

COS Ch’zaolrirh