New Officers

Saarish stalked along the promenade of this foul smelling Federation Starbase. So clean. So sterile. The KDF starbases had that unique Klingon aroma, a muskiness of grounded hearth and wild animals. It always made him feel like that base could be a home. But with the close of the Iconian war, a new attempt at extending a hand of friendship between the empires was attempted. Officers from both sides swapping ships to learn cooperation. The seven foot Gorn with an eye patch over his right eye and a blood red left eye snorted a smirk. Yeah, and how many Starfleeters are going to have an 'accident' in their postings? What were the higher ups thinking? Still, he was a loyal warrior of the Empire, so he would obey and serve on this Starfleet ship until he was recalled.


Both Starfleet officers and civillians wondered around the promenade. Saarish swore they were in a daze. Looking in every window. Moving without purpose. No place to be. How disconcerting. He couldn't imagine just walking somewhere for the sake of walking. At least make some exercise of it. They were annoying him already. Then he let out a grunt as something occured to him. What insane food were they going to feed him? He'd heard the stories, that no Starfleeter ate live food. Or real meat. He couldn't live on Jumja sticks, beetroot cake and pineapples for the next few months. Or years. Smeg. What if he was going to be stuck here for years? He'd have to start smuggling in animals just to eat. Ha! That would be an interesting conversation if he got caught:

'Hey. What are you doing with these animals?'
'Tenderising them.'
'Why?'
'To eat. Obviously.'
'What? That's barbaric?!'
'What's barbaric is restraining your animal instincts and eating some puffy fake junk that probably came from a recycled boot. Now leave my stock alone before I eat you!'


He smirked again as it played out in his head. He had to admit though, he had only seen Starfleeter races in combat. He had no idea what they would be like. But he had read up on intelligent reports before leaving Ganalda Station. He figured he had a good idea of what to expect.


His captain, one Talaina Kazzur, had asked him to meet her and the senior officers on the promenade, at a place called Shorty's. He knew nothing about what it was, but he assumed it was some kind of eating establishment.


Walking around the Promenade, he eventually came to the place. He paused by the entrance, tightening the grip on his suitcase. It was indeed a restaurant. And the smell forced him to swollow bile before it erupted across the decks. The sterile smell was far more preferable than this putrid stench. The joy of having a sensitive nose. "Well, let'ssss get this over with." Taking a deep breath that was instantly regretted, he marched into the place and looked around. A Bolian came over to him.

"Welcome to Shorty's. Table for one?"
"No. I'm ssssuppossssed to meet Captain Kazzur here."
"Ah, yes. That party is over here." The Bolian lead Saarish to a table surrounded by an Andorian female, a human female, a Vulcan female and a Saurian male. Saarish didn't realise he was going to be on a chick ship. That wasn't going to irritate him. At. All. The Andorian saw him approach and stood up with a smile. She extended a hand.

"Hello Saarish and welcome to Serenity Station. I'm Captain Kazzur." Saarish looked at the hand for a moment before enclosing it in his free hand and shook it furiously.
"Captain. It honourssss me to serve on your ship." He placed a fist over his chest and bowed in respect. To her credit, Kazzur returned the salute.

"May I introduce some of the other officers who will be serving with you. This is the First Officer, Commander Ttorkkinn. This is our Operations officer, Lieutenant Zhong, and another new addition to our crew, our new science officer, Lt. Commander T'Vrell. Everyone, this is Commmander Saarish, our echange officer and new Doctor." Everyone exchanged pleasantries and Kazzur sat back down, though Saarish remained standing. "Won't you care to join us?"
"It'ssss been a long trip Captain. If you don't mind, I would prefer to retire to my quarterssss for some sssleep. And the sssstench in this place is overpoweringly noxious."
"Very well. You have a bunk assigned on the Viper, but as we're operating out of Serenity Station for the foreseeable future, crew members have also been assigned quarters on the station. Yours are on deck five, section forty seven Alpha. Report to the Viper at Zero Eight Hundred tomorrow. She's at Docking Port three."
"I will be there. Good night Captain."


He turned and left the establishment. No doubt they were making disparaging remarks about him. Like he cared. He could easily beat up any of them. The Saurian looked tough, but the women would go down quickly. And that Saurian would fall before the might of Gorn scales. A grunt escaped as he remembered he was here to follow their orders, not to analyse them for weakness. But saying that, he couldn't help it if he were to observe things....





Saarish walked along the corridor. He was in the right section, he just had to find his room. As he came around a corner, he bumped into someone. More accurately, they hit and bounced off him. He remained perfectly unflinching. It was a young human woman with long yellow hair. "Oh. I-I'm so sorry."
"Watch where you're going in future."
"I'm sorry! It's a common accident around corners."
"Then make sure it isn't." He growled and leaned forward slightly, making sure this young thing wouldn't forget him in a hurry. And it seemed to work. She went slightly pale and backed away from him.
"Say, you wouldn't happen to be the exchange officer on the Viper, would you?"
"Yessss. What's it to you?"
"I-I'm Jenna Jones. The helmsman." Saarish noted she didn't extend her hand like Kazzur did. Far too afraid to most likely.
"Well Jenna James. I hope you can fly the ship better than you walk around corridors. If there's nothing else, I tire." Saarish started marching forward, Jenna jumping backwards against the bulkhead. Saarish smiled. He'd left a definite impression on the young girl. Good. Maybe if he got into enough trouble, he'd be sent back to the Empire and some other poor sod would have to take over. Regardless, he finally found his room and entered. Locking the door, he placed the suitcase on the bed and yawned. Clenching his fists, he stretched out as far as he could. He wasn't lying when he said it was a long trip. Ganalda Station to the Badlands was not a hop to the next system. Opening the case, he picked out his violin and set it on the bedside table. He then took out some clothes and shut the case. Fighting another yawn, he quickly got changed into his pyjamas, setting the KDF uniform over a chair. He paused, squeezing the back of the chair. So much padding. This was a station clearly designed for comfort first. Walking over to the bed, he grabbed the matress and flung it across the room. Curling up on the hard base unit of the bed, he closed his eye and went to sleep, wondering just what he had done to get such a terrible assignment.

I like it. You're funny :-) and at the same time it seems very believable. But funny.

Thanks.

love this