Where Everybody Knows Your Name...

OFF: Not Challenge Post (Largehobbit/Zuzutoo)


ON:
“Hit me again.” Mok tapped his glass. Bolak poured and watched his friend knock back the shot with a worried frown. The blue skinned barber had not been himself since… the nebula. For a start Bolak could not help but notice the leather case the Bolian now wore at his belt carrying a pair of cut throat razors. A little reminder. Mok often said, but Bolak suspected it ran deeper.

“So…” Ensign McCree began and the barkeep and barber groaned in unison, “So it wasn't all a hologram?”

“No.” said Mok as he tapped his glass for another drink.

“...and it wasn’t an alternate universe?”

“No.” replied Bolak as he poured.

“It was an illusion?” McCree went on as he stared into his half empty glass.

“Yeees.” Bolak shook his head.

“...but two crew members are now pregnant… and when we came back we…” McCree looked like his brain was literally going to drop out of his ear if he went on.

“We did not come back, we were already here!” snapped Mok.

“With the Romulans?” asked McCree

“Apparently so.” Mok replied.

“But why?”

“Why? Why?” Mok raged now, “I don't know why? Perhaps they were just nice Romulans. They were passing by and saw us in a spot of bother and they said to themselves, hey look they may be our mortal enemies but well darn we can't just leave them there can we…”

“Well that makes no sense!” McMCree crossed his arms and Mok fingered the leather case at his belt with narrowed eyes.

“Ahem more drinks?” Bolak offered and both of the men agreed.

The door to Ten Forward swooshed open, curious patrons gave a glance but could not make out anyone coming in. Moments later the diminutive Chief Engineer came around to the Bar. She wore a long loose fitting red dress falling to her feet and dragging a bit on the floor.

“I tell you, this ship needs a quality seamstress or tailor. That infernal machine never gets my proportions right no matter how many times I key them in.” she stated as she leapt up onto one of the stools.

Bolak smiled at Aji. “Raktajino, Commander?”

Her tiny nose twitched a little. “Heavens no. I’ve been up for three days, no more Klingon devil juice. I need a proper meal and a night’s rest. But I thought a little tranya for old times sake would be pleasant before retiring for the night.

“Coming right up.” Bolak grinned as he set about serving the drinks.

Ensign McCree leaned away from the bar and gave a long look at Aji’s back, scowled a little and went back to his drink. “Mighty bold Ma’am. Used to be proper folk couldn’t wear such things.”

“Illusion.” Mok repeated.

“Right, right, just so. I still will not accept how the ladies carry on like they do.” McCree answered. Bolak shook his head in silent despair.

Mok curious leaned back as well, and smiled. “Still hurting over the little trip to the Vet with the Rommies.

Aji gave a mischievous knowing grin. “Like you all are any better….”

“Spin it around for us, can’t see your back on this side.” Bolak said, placing a small glass of orange Tranya before Aji.

She picked the glass up with both hands and took a sip before setting it down on the bar again. She stood, and slowly spun her stool. Standing proudly on the rotating seat the back of her dress showed in strong san-serif font: NOT A F*&^ING SQUIRREL. “Just a little public service announcement.” she squeaked.

Bolak roared with laughter as he read the words and shook his head. “Brilliant! Simply brilliant.”

They sat and drank in silence for a moment then before Bolka spoke, “So do we know where the Romulans went? Or why they were here yet?” he directed the question to Aji who simply shrugged as she sipped on her tranya.

“I thought the Romulans were an illusion?” said McCree

Mok moved so fast that he could do little to stop the blue fist that knocked the ensign from his stool and onto the ground in a dazed heap. If Mok had hair he would be pulling it out as he stared wild eyed down at the addled McCree.

“W..was it something I said?” asked the Ensign.

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