Drinks Before Dinner (Part 2)

Posted on Fri Nov 26th, 2021 @ 11:25am by Captain Freya Mannerheim & Lieutenant Xia Idris
Edited on on Fri Nov 26th, 2021 @ 1:56pm

1,154 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Chapter V: The Calm Before The Storm
Location: Drozana Station/The Lonely Star
Timeline: 238703.03

It had been an exhausting day for Captain Freya Mannerheim. First, of course, the sudden disappearance of the Colonel that had thrown everything into disarray. But just as it seemed that situation was calming down, another one arose. Less than half an hour after her meeting with Commander Rogers, the captain had been alerted to an altercation in engineering. One of the junior technicians had had a disagreement with the Chief Spore Drive Engineer, and they had resorted to settling their differences in the Terran fashion. Now, the Spore Drive Engineer was in sickbay with a perforated lung and his body covered in stab wounds, and the junior technician was in the agoniser. As little as Freya cared for Terran disciplinary measures, they were sometimes necessary.

When she had finally wrapped up her duties for the day, the captain had decided to take a stroll around the bazaar on the station. She was still in full uniform, but she had opened the blood red clasp on the double-breasted jacket of her uniform and the jacket was hanging loosely, revealing the simple, black tank top that she was wearing underneath. Of course, this being Drozana, she was smarter than to go here unarmed, so she was carrying the usual dagger along with her katana on the left side of her belt, with a phaser holstered on her right hip. She still wasn't wearing her tights, so the intricate pattern of tattoos on her right leg was on open display, and the fact that her left leg was artificial was clearly visible. Her grey eyes were darting around, carefully observing her surroundings from behind the black-rimmed aviator-style glasses with their slightly tinted lenses, and her shoulder-length black hair was, to put it bluntly, in a bit of a mess.

Just as she was about to leave the bazaar, she spotted a vaguely familiar figure walking away from a stall, and quickly moved to meet her.

"Excuse me," she said, her voice friendly but showing some of her exhaustion. "You are on the crew of that Romulan warbird in the dock, aren't you?"

Xia paused warily as she was greeted, but turned on recognizing the mental signature to see Captain Mannerheim. “Yes...sir,” she said, remembering her Starfleet protocol, though the woman wasn’t Starfleet. “We’re on shore leave at the moment. Is there something I can help you with, Captain?”

Xia knew of the woman, that she was what others called a Terran, Humans from some Mirror Universe or something, and that she’d only really seen the woman at the memorial service, but she had something to do with the Ouranovassa’s mission, and that Xia didn’t much like the vibe she got off of most of the Terran crew. Mannerheim and the “other” Rodgers seemed okay enough, but the few people Xia had met from the Terran ship were like nails on chalkboard to her psychic senses, highly aggressive, violent, and xenophobic. They were often worse to her as a Betazed than her own Romulan crewmates were. She hadn’t needed to leave one drooling or bleeding yet, but she highly expected that might be the case before the end of this mission.

Freya smiled. "No need for the formalities. As you say, you're on shore leave, and I am not on your crew, besides. I was just going for a walk, and, frankly, after the day I've had, I was about to head to the bar. Wouldn't mind some company, either." She smirked. "Long as you refrain from reading my mind too much, that is. I used to have a Betazoid friend, Kana. XO of the U.S.S. Poseidon, the first Federation ship I served on. I don't need to be able to read your mind to know what you think of Terrans, but believe me, not all of us are bad."

“You forget you’re talking to a telepath,” Xia reminded. “I can tell.” But she relaxed a bit. “I was about to get dinner, so I could do with a drink.” She nodded to Freya. “Main bar, or off the strip?” she asked.

The Captain shrugged. "You know this place better than me. Anywhere that has strong booze is good with me."

“Let’s go somewhere less crowded, then.” Xia smiled.

Xia led Freya away from the main central station hub and out toward one of the lower station areas. The Lonely Star cantina was a proper dive bar, dimly lit, a bit smokey, though it didn’t have the Ferengi bar keep that was typical on Drozana station. Instead, the woman behind the bar was a looker, Human, or at least one of those aliens that looked Human enough. She had an extremely feminine figure, with soft, lush, full-bodied curves, long, flowing golden hair cascading down delicate shoulders framing beautiful blue eyes that were sapphire pools set in her alabaster face over full, pouty lips. She had a youthful, baby doll beauty and innocence belied only by the wisdom of over a century of life in her eyes. The eyes were the key. El-Aurian, one would guess. Xia couldn’t help but run her dark eyes over the barkeep in her low cut white dress. The barkeep caught her gaze and gave her a wink, and Xia returned a smile.

The rest of the people in the bar were your usual assortment of louts and ne’er-do-wells, except for the Vulcan playing bouncer by the door. She seemed the complete opposite of the woman behind the bar, more hard and angular.. She wasn’t what one typically thinks of a Vulcan. She had dark copper hair tied in a long braid down her back. She wore tight black leather pants that hung low on her hips, emphasizing her shapely feminine hips and thighs. A low-cut midriff top revealed a lot of cleavage and an impressive six pack of abs. Green eyes flashed from a face that had the severe beauty Vulcans were often known for. The look was an application of Vulcan logic. For the few seconds you were staring at her rack, she’d already gotten the jump on you in the fight.

A Caitian woman lounged at the bar. She had the features of a white long-haired Persian feline. She was thin and curvaceous, her tight, wiry muscles hidden beneath her soft layer of fur. She wore a leather corset top and tight leather pants, her weapon belt sporting a Klingon disruptor and a couple knives.

“Xia,” the Caitian purred a greeting. “Nice to see you again.” She sipped at a milk and whiskey.

“Freya Mannerheim, Hepzibah P’Rurr,” Xia introduced the Caitian. “Freelance operator. Ketacyn Aumar,” she indicated the buxom blonde bartender, “and Tiral,” the Vulcan bouncer, “own the place. Good folks to know,” Xia said.

“What can I get you ladies?” Ketacyn asked, leaning on the bar distractingly.

TBC

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