Post by Ensign Tegan Mast on Feb 13, 2016 7:31:05 GMT -8
“Explain something to me,” the male officer between Tegan and Bernard spoke up after watching his company for a short time. “Why are all you Federation’s so…tidy.” Tegan could hear the revulsion in the Klingon’s tone as he uttered a word that might as well be a curse. She wondered if Klingon’s even had a word for “tidy”.
Tegan let out a scoff as she considered how her Zi would respond for Tegan in this situation. Tidy was certainly not a word in her vocabulary.
“Hm?” he asked again without even giving his neighbors much of a chance to respond. “You come here in your bright uniforms, and you eat in such careful ways, and you spend so much time keeping your ships so clean. Do you have no passion in your lives?! Must you worry so about tiding your things that you miss out on the glories of living?”
The Klingon heard the excuses, but did not heed them. He held in this criticism of the Federation for far too long to not give it voice. “Eat, drink, and share in your passions!”
“’…for tomorrow we die,’” Tegan spoke under her breath before taking a more than generous sip of bloodwine.
“You fear death, Little One?” The Klingon on Tegan’s other side interjected. Tegan jaw firmed and her eyes narrowed. If he called her that one more time she would introduce her knee to his “little ones.”
“I don’t want to die,” Tegan finally answered, somehow keeping a good amount of her frustrations suppressed.
“A Klingon welcomes a glorious death! We do not shy from it with doctors and diplomats. We revel in the chance to join our honored dead!” The Klingons around the table threw their gauntlets in the air to cheer and roar in agreement.
Tegan decided that from now on, she would leave her snide responses to herself. At the Klingon feasting table, silence was golden.
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Tegan let out a scoff as she considered how her Zi would respond for Tegan in this situation. Tidy was certainly not a word in her vocabulary.
“Hm?” he asked again without even giving his neighbors much of a chance to respond. “You come here in your bright uniforms, and you eat in such careful ways, and you spend so much time keeping your ships so clean. Do you have no passion in your lives?! Must you worry so about tiding your things that you miss out on the glories of living?”
The Klingon heard the excuses, but did not heed them. He held in this criticism of the Federation for far too long to not give it voice. “Eat, drink, and share in your passions!”
“’…for tomorrow we die,’” Tegan spoke under her breath before taking a more than generous sip of bloodwine.
“You fear death, Little One?” The Klingon on Tegan’s other side interjected. Tegan jaw firmed and her eyes narrowed. If he called her that one more time she would introduce her knee to his “little ones.”
“I don’t want to die,” Tegan finally answered, somehow keeping a good amount of her frustrations suppressed.
“A Klingon welcomes a glorious death! We do not shy from it with doctors and diplomats. We revel in the chance to join our honored dead!” The Klingons around the table threw their gauntlets in the air to cheer and roar in agreement.
Tegan decided that from now on, she would leave her snide responses to herself. At the Klingon feasting table, silence was golden.
Tag: All