Joint Personal Log - LtCmdr Waterhouse & Krogoth - "Remember The First Dance We Shared?"

Posted on Thu Oct 16th, 2014 @ 4:49am by Commander Amelia Waterhouse & Krogoth

1,359 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Are You Touched?

Down the corridor Amelia strode, bat'leth resting along one arm and against her shoulder. As she whistled a bouncy tune as she walked, she pondered what holodeck program to do her exercise in. Normally she loved the beach, but she'd gotten the real thing recently, so Golden Gate Park was tugging at her as she spotted Krogoth down the corridor ahead of her. As she was whistling, she could only assume he knew she was there, even though his back was to her. She quickened her stride until she came up next to him, then matched his pace, waiting to see how long it took him to notice her.

"Yes, Commander?" The stygian Klingon asked as he continued along on his path, apple in hand. A plucky crewman had suggested he spend his free time strolling, that he avoid the lounge, that the holoprograms were 'nifty' and that he was the only pure Klingon aboard. The last factoid didn't trouble or surprise him, very few Klingons had ever served Starfleet, though he wondered if that number would suddenly jump with the way the Empire set about helping free the Sol system and Earth from the mutiny that had transpired.

"And a good evening to you," Amelia returned with a laugh. Such a Klingon greeting, though a little more polite than the 'what do you want?' that the traditional Klingon greeting literally translated to in Fed standard. She grinned. "How are you?"

A dark eye rolled in it's socket to watch the woman sidelong, "I've been better." He replied, his posture rigid as his pace failed to slow. It was brutally apparent that he was uncomfortable with the woman's flippant nature, she was too... Happy.

"Anything beyond the mess on the planet contributing to that? I know we lack proper bar brawls, but I know where you can get some good blood wine." If anything could cheer up a Klingon, it was bar fights and booze.

"The mess and this... Ship." He replied, gesturing to the hall in front of them. "She's too large. How do you maneuver it to fight? It's driving me crazy to know we're just a giant hunk of sitting scrap metal." Krogoth's step faltered for a moment, and his head turned to look full on at Amelia, "You're trying to trick me into getting drunk so that mean little Captain of yours can throw me in the brig and you can let your brother run wild on our planet." His eyes narrowed on her.

A laugh high and merry rung out from the willowy redhead, echoing down the corridor. It took her half a moment, and setting the bat'leth down so the tip rested on the carpeted deckplate of the corridor, to regain her composure. She shook her head with a smirk.

"I assure you, once the relief of knowing the crazy dork was alive and well passed, I was just as displeased to find him on that planet as you are. Do you think it's a cakewalk to have family in the middle of a prime directive incident and a diplomatic situation?" She sighed. "I am simply trying to be hospitable. If you don't want any of my 2309..." She picked up the bat'leth and started walking again.

"We'd either shun or kill them. Are you that far removed from your Klingon heritage?" He asked with a growl and the twitch of his lip, "Maybe the Trill pleasantries have screwed with your brain too much, added their spots there too." He added, following along to watch how she'd handle his insults and jeers.

"It's probably my human father that scrambled my brain, in all honesty," she dismissed with a shrug. "Instilling concepts like always take care of family, but family is who you make it. Noah has my back in his own way, so I have his. Would you shun someone who had your back? Seems dishonorable to me..."

"If they disgraced and dishonored my family and the Empire? Absolutely." Krogoth shot back without a second thought. "Humans are too forgiving, it's a weakness."

"But Humans have a talent for making their weaknesses into strengths," she protested, clicking her tongue. "Learning from mistakes, forgiveness, and sometimes simply being underestimated by the enemy, they often work in their — our — favor. Besides, he didn't mean to land on that planet, and last I heard, he's trying to cooperate, though he tries to look out for his own interests as well. He's concerned about those aliens on the planet, who took him and his crew in when they needed it. What's more honorable than repaying a debt owed to another?"

"Not pissing off those who own the land they crashed or feeding aliens spaghetti." Krogoth replied sternly, his amusement with the situation waxing and waning as he stomped along.

"Okay, the spaghetti was a touch too far... but he believes it gives him connection to his noodley god," Amelia conceded with an eyeroll and a laugh. "Normally his Pastafarianism is harmless. Besides, didn't the Klingons kill their gods long ago? What's another one to vanquish after all?" She winked and grinned.

"We could start with your brother since he's the closest thing to that God that they know." The big Klingon rumbled, amusing himself with the thought of ending that gap-toothed brat.

"Ah, but then we start the vengeance chain. Even if I understood why there was an honorable reason to dispatch my brother — not that I'm saying there is, mind you — my mother would come for you, from the fiery depths of hell if needed. She has twice the Klingon blood I have, she's a protective mother, and she's a red-head like I am. Should you, or one of your kin dispatch her, there is family ranging from full blooded klingons to people who don't have a drop of blood in common with me, my brother, or my parents. There are enough of us to rival a great house in size."

Krogoth smiled a hideous smile, his mirth bitterly apparent at her response. "Oh but... My house is the Empire. Dispatching your brother would be an act committed by the Empire. Go against the Empire and you'd be dispatched as well. Funny how that works, isn't it?"

"Predictable and tiring are the words I'd use. But then, the human in me reminds me of how the underdog can still come out on top, and how logic hardly ever factors into the vengeance business." Another shrug, and she stopped next to the holodeck door. "In the end, I know the problem is nearly resolved and this is nothing but a thought experiment. Good thing for you there's no iocane powder involved." She winked, touching the controls for the holodeck. "You are welcome to join me, otherwise this is where I leave you to your stroll."

The Klingon rumbled in laughter and folded his arms, apple still in hand. "You get them off the planet and out of the Empire's hair and I'll school you with your little weapon, half-breed. Your style is antiquated. I'd take pride in teaching you a thing or two."

"I'll be happy to learn whatever you teach, but don't be surprised if I teach you a thing or two also." With a nod of her head, she moved into the holodeck without waiting for his reply. The view through the closing doors was Golden Gate Park in San Francisco on Earth.

Krogoth waited until the doors closed before his laughter barked out into the corridors. The XO was a most peculiar creature, one he took pride in verbally sparring with. With a little bit of luck, he'd be given the chance to school her properly. The thought left him with a sick and twisted sort of grin as he tossed his apple and took a bite, once again setting off on his walk. The truth of the matter was that he enjoyed things like the Terran fruit more than he probably should have — a guilty pleasure.

=/\= End Log =/\=

Lt Commander Amelia Waterhouse
Executive Officer
USS Vindicator, NCC-78213-E

Krogoth
Klingon Ambassador
(APB October)

 

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