Warrior's Mess (Part 10 of 10)

Posted on 30 Apr 2015 @ 7:08pm by Rear Admiral Lirha Saalm & Lieutenant Olsam Mott & General ('aj) JataQ & Lieutenant Tuula Voutilainen M.D.

2,369 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: Episode 08 - NIMBUS
Location: IKS CharghwI' - Deck 18, Dining Hall
Timeline: MD 02 - 0050 hrs

Previously, on Warrior's Mess (Part 9)...

Lirha had viewed the sparring from afar for several long minutes while wondering if it was a prudent idea for her Starfleet crews to be engaging in physical combat with the Klingons. No doubt several injuries would take place during the even if they hadn't already, and she wanted all of her personnel to be in the best shape possible when the time for the war games occurred tomorrow. But at the same time, she noticed everyone appeared to be enjoying themselves...albeit in a strange, testosterone fashion. Even some of the women, as well.

As such, the rear admiral casually strolled over to the challenge area with her third mug of bloodwine in hand, and began to observe the combat now taking place.

Luke sat down after a Klingon medic looked over him, he had been patched up well but blood and bruises still criss-crossed his body. Watching the Admiral walk over to the combat area he smiled, "Come to watch the fighting Admiral?" He asked as a ensign brought over a fresh shirt for him, something which he hadn't asked for.

And Now, the Conclusion...

[ON]

Dining Hall - Buffet Area

Olsam had been so engrossed in the all-you-can-eat gagh buffet that it took him a moment to register Tuula's raised voice. Hearing a distressed colleague was perhaps one of the only things that could tear him away from such a culinary delight, causing him to drop his plate where it was to stiffen and get a better perspective on the location of the disagreement.

Pushing through a crowd of crewmen and Klingons, Olsam burst into the open circle like a raging bull. He came to an immediate stop and frowned at the scene; the heavy-breathing from the exertion of making his way over and the frown over having to leave his gagh could have been interpreted as making a very angry Bolian.

"What's going on here?" Olsam demanded, looking between Tuula and the Klingon facing off with her.

"Mister Klaarg here," replied Tuula, turning away from Olsam to shoot daggers at the Klingon with her eyes, "just so happens to have the medieval, barbaric, small-minded attitude that I have ever seen."

"Those are some tough words for one who can not even climb a set of stairs," shot back Klaarg. "Is this what passed for Starfleet officers these days? Our opponents are so soft that they let people who push themselves around on primitive carts masquerade as warriors, running over people's feet?" With that, he motioned downward to his boot, a black leather affair with metal trim pieces, and a scuff that matched one of the wheels of Tuula's chair.

"Klaarg, that was an accident." Tuula was exasperated at this point. "There's no need to--"

"This," he replied, playing to the crowd, "is the difference between the weak-kneed Federation and the Klingon empire. We are warriors! And we, at least, know when it is time to die." The crowd of assembled Klingons nodded and grunted in affirmation. "When we become a burden, we refuse to selfishly cling to life. It is called... the Hegh'bat."

It was at that moment that Tuula finally broke down. She had spent the evening trying not to let the disapproving stares of the Klingons get to her. She looked up at Mott, a look of sadness upon her face. "Olsam, I'm going back to my quarters," she said, as she turned away from Klaarg and the boisterous bunch of Klingons who by now where cheering him on.

"No, stay," Olsam said, reaching out to grab the back handle of her wheelchair to stop her. He sounded surprisingly firm and clear given how nonsensical and jolly and absent-minded he could usually be. He slowly moved his head to look from Tuula to Klaarg and made a show of sneering at the much taller, much more muscular, much larger Klingon. "You are without honor."

A collective gasp filled the room. Everyone assembled knew that those were fighting words, and that given the difference in size and level of coordination between the Klingon and the Bolian, the winner was a foregone conclusion.

Klaarg stepped forward, grabbing Olsam by the collar of his dress uniform and pulling him in closer. "What did you say?" he asked in a menacing tone, giving the Bolian the most evil stare he could muster for daring to question his honour.

The Bolian seemed unmoved, as if he somehow had the knowledge that he could best his opponent. The man really was without honor, at least as far as Olsam saw it. Picking on someone like Tuula? She was a fine physician, a good friend, a respected member of the crew. She didn't deserve to be treated poorly by anyone; her accomplishments were many, and they were valued by the Federation just as they should be valued by the Klingon Empire. "I said you are without honor, petaQ, and I challenge you to Hegh SopwI' qaD!"

Olsam straightened his back, held his head high, and seemed to be quite pleased with himself for invoking the Challenge of the Death Eater. His fellow students had derided his choice of a minor in Klingon studies at the Academy, but he'd known it would come in handy some day, when a colleague had been insulted and that insult needed to be met with a challenge. Thankfully, he thought, a challenge I can win.

"Olsam, you don't need to--"

The Klingon side of the room filled with boisterous laughter. The Hegh SopwI' qaD was a rare challenge indeed. Though most Klingon warriors tended to settle their differences with bat'leths, this challenge had a long history. Kahless himself first drew up the rules for it, as an emergency measure to conserve his forces for the Battle of the River Skral against the hated tyrant Molor. It had since fallen into disuse, however, and this would be the first such challenge that any of the Klingons present had ever witnessed.

At first, Klaarg was surprised. He did not expect the Bolian to respond with a challenge, lease of all the Hegh SopwI' qaD. But, unable to back down, in front of his fellow warriors, he quickly regained composure. "I accept," he replied. "And Klo'thar here will be my second," he added, patting one of his comrades on the back. As second, Klo'thar had the easy job - simply fetching plates of gagh as fast as Klaarg could eat them.

Klaarg confidently poked his Bolian challenger in the stomach. Olsam was half his size, and not nearly in peak physical condition; he figured this little challenge would be a walk in the park. "Where are you going to put all that gagh, my little blue friend?"

"I'd love to reveal my strategy," Olsam said, edging back a little closer to his normal self, "but that's talk for real warriors. You wouldn't understand." He held his head a little higher and looked extremely smug, clearly pleased with being able to insult someone on purpose for once. He turned to Tuula and smiled. "Dr. Voutilainen will be my second. Unless you're worried about your boots getting scuffed again, loQ be'Hom."

"It's on, blue man."


45 minutes later...

By now, the crowd that had formed around Olsam and Klaarg had started to thin out. The novelty of the Hegh SopwI' qaD had started to wear off, and there was only so much entertainment value in watching a Bolian shovel plate after plate of food into his maw. The few that remained in attendance were in awe at his prowess at the table. They had never seen anything like it; he was like a cross between an Andorian and a waste receptacle.

Tuula was exhausted. After spending the better part of an hour fetching plate after plate of gagh, she was covered in sweat. She had long since lost count of how many plates he had eaten, all she knew was that she could barely keep up with him. As she placed yet another plate in front of Olsam, she managed to get him to break eye contact with the food just long enough to get his attention.

"You know, Olsam, you won like twenty minutes ago," she said as she placed yet another plate of gagh in front of the victor. "I think Klaarg is off vomiting somewhere by now."

Olsam stopped, mid-chew, and blinked at Tuula. He looked across the table to where Klaarg had been sitting and blinked again, as if he was just now noticing the absence of the opposing 'warrior.' He shrugged, finally put his eating utensil down, and swallowed the remainder of the gagh in his mouth.

"Sorry, I just got really wrapped up in defending your honor, Tuula. Plus, it's fresh gagh. You don't find it very often on Starfleet ships. Is Klaarg crying? Did he cry? I hope someone had a holo-recorder if he did. He wasn't very nice. I want to send it to the Klingon media to teach him a lesson. You shouldn't pick on people like that. It's just not very nice!"

"I don't know if he's crying, but I don't think he's very happy." Tuula stifled a chuckle at the thought of Klaarg sitting in front of a toilet, crying as he vomited up still-wriggling gagh. "The important thing is... you defended my honour! And you did so in such a clever way! The Hegh SopwI' qaD, that's genius!" Tuula pushed herself around the table and stopped right next to Mott, then leaned in and wrapped her arms around him, giving him a big hug. "Oh, Olsam, this is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me!"

Olsam returned the hug, trying to pat her on the back with the tiny sliver of his hands that weren't covered in gagh mucous. He wasn't sure he readily understood the romantic connection, but he did suppose he could see how someone gorging themselves on Klingon food might be an amorous gesture. If someone managed to pack away as much food as he'd done, he had to admit he'd probably find it not only romantic but attractive, too. "Is it? Well, I was just doing the right thing. Can you believe the way he was talking to you? I was just overcome with Bolian rage. We can be quite a violent people, you know." He paused for a moment, making an obvious noise of strain and they continued to hold the embrace. "Um. Can we let go now? My back hurts."

"All right," replied Tuula. Gently, she kissed Olsam on the cheek and then released her grasp. "Just don't forget about our little physical, okay?"

A large and caped Klingon made his way over to Olsam, the crowd of other lesser Klingons parting the way for him as his prestigious presence demanded the utmost respect. "What...is this?" asked JataQ, the head general and commander of the entire Klingon task group. "You, Bolian!. Stand and face me," he demanded, his elegant armor and decorations glinting in the murky air.

Mott, having froze in horror at Tuula's kiss, didn't react. Instead, Tuula turned towards JataQ. "Dr. Mott here defended my honour, in the..." Tuula placed a finger on her chin, trying to think of the name for a moment. "...well, I don't know what it's called. But it's some kind of ancient ritual Klingon eating contest. And he absolutely DESTROYED that doofus Klaarg," she added, smiling proudly at JataQ on Olsam's behalf.

"The Hegh SopwI' qaD," replied the Klingon general with swiftness as the flourescent-haired Human woman failed to recall it. He then turned his eyes towards the large blue Bolian and narrowed his eyes. "He is an impressive creature," he remarked, waving his gloved hand up and down Mott's frame. "Capable of devouring his opponents in culinary battle. A most impressive trait!"

"I'll say," added Tuula, glancing over at the still shocked Bolian. "And he's not bad to look at either..."

"Debatable," said JataQ with a heavy gruff which showed his lack of aesthetic pleasure for the blue-skinned species. "But he is a fine specimen, nonetheless. I am pleased to see you and your crew members are enjoying yourselves and acclimating to the lifestyle of a warrior! I admit...I had not foreseen such an enthusiasm from you Starfleet."

"Well, us Starfleet types do tend to rise to the occasion," replied Tuula, beaming with pride. "Isn't that right, Olsam?"

[OFF]

--

RADM Lirha Saalm
Commanding Officer
USS Atlas

CAPT Jonathan Holliday
Commanding Officer
USS Chronos

Ensign T'Vanna Murray
Chief of Operations
USS Aventia

Lieutenant j.g. Naois Mercy
Chief Medical Officer
USS Nautilus
[PNPC T'Vanna]

CPO Tyrion Faye
Intelligence Officer
USS Galileo
[PNPC T'Vanna]

Cadet SO Wintrow Paragon
Helmsman
USS Galileo
[PNPC T'Vanna]

Lieutenant JG Drusilla McCarthy
Assistant Chief Counsellor
USS Galileo

Lieutenant (JG) Tuula Voutilainen
Medical Officer
USS Galileo

Ensign K'os Beaumont
Assistant Chief Engineering Officer
USS Galileo

Lieutenant Commander Andreus Kohl
Executive Officer
USS Nautilus

LCDR Allyndra Warraquin
First Officer
USS Galileo

LTJG Luke Wyatt
Chief Security/Tactical Officer
USS Galileo

CPO Keval Grayson
Operations Officer
USS Galileo

LTJG Grayson Jones
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Galileo

LTJG Emmarie
Asst. Chief Operations Officer
USS Galileo

PO2 Eva Kovalev
Propulsion Specialist
USS Galileo
[PNPC Zhao]

LCDR Norvi Stace
Commanding Officer
USS Galileo

ENS Janna Voutilainen
Stellar Cartographer
USS Galileo

Lieutenant Olsam Mott, M.D.
Acting Chief Medical Officer
USS Galileo

Crewman Apprentice Sigrid Thelin
Scientist's Mate
USS Galileo
[PNPC K'os Beaumont]

LTJG Benice Gyce
Security Investigations Officer
USS Galileo

LCDR Dea Mialin
Commanding Officer
USS Aventia

LT Jared Nicholas
Linguist
USS Galileo

LT Min Zhao
Chief Operations Officer
USS Galileo

AMB Solene von Lanthen
Diplomat
USS Galileo
[PNPC Khnailmnae]

CDT Nesh Saalm
Scientist's Mate
USS Galileo
[PNPC Khnailmnae]

Arandon Khnailmnae
Botanist
USS Galileo

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