Disclaimer
Tenchi and all associated characters are the property of AIC and Pioneer LDC. I don't own any rights to them. Any other characters are property of their respective copyright holders, not me.
***
Ladies Night Out
Chapter Five
No Tribble at All…
(Chapter written by William "Thundergod" Nichols)
***
Ryoko's eyes narrowed as the group of unlikely inter-dimensional bar-hoppers rematerialized in the darkened confines of the cargo hold of Station K-7. Instantly her defenses went up. She had been in such situations before, and the possible outcomes raced through her mind.
"Where are we this time?" Nagi asked as Urd and Ken-Ohki echoed her sentiment with a low meow.
Ryoko sniffed the slightly stale and dry air and decided that it was recycled, obviously through a primitive rebreather technology of sorts. A quick tap on the floor with her heel revealed it was solid and metallic.
"Whersh da bar?" Naga inquired, as she groped around blindly in the darkened bay.
"Steady girl," Ryoko said as she braced the still inebriated sorceress. "My guess is that we're on a space station of sorts," she surmised as her nocturnal vision revealed a thin outline of light suggesting the rooms' entrance. "This way," she added, taking Naga by the hand.
"Allow me," Urd offered as ball of light coalesced in her left hand. Sure enough, they were in a cargo hold on a space station. Large, orange, corrugated containers flanked either side of the group of bar hoppers.
"Quadro…quadrotritacale?" the goddess read from the large black stenciled lettering somewhat unsteadily on the sides of the containers.
"What's that?" Nagi asked, reaching for the hilt of her energy saber.
Urd shrugged and shook her head in defeat. "I dunno."
"It's a high yield hybrid of wheat and rye," Ryoko stated nonchalantly as if such knowledge was as common as water. A chorus of "uh-huh," rose up from those sober enough to reply. "Let's see," Ryoko continued as she examined the keypad operating the hold's exit. The panel beneath the pad flipped down with a click revealing a maze of multi-colored wires. Ryoko pulled one bundle out before she decided on another. She had hot-wired many systems less advanced than this, so getting out shouldn't be a problem.
"Be careful," Nagi warned as Ken-Ohki peeked out from under his master's cloak. "It could be hostile out there."
"I'm not worried," Ryoko said as she crossed a few wires. A second later a green light blinked on the keypad and the doors slid open with a hydraulic hiss. "A piece of cake…" she laughed, looking back at the others who, for some funny reason, had their hands raised, the exception being Naga, who just wobbled slightly.
"Hold it right there," a gruff voice announced right as Ryoko turned around to stare into the business end of a phaser rifle. "Hands up missy," the guard motioned as Ryoko slowly raised her hands.
"Oh damn…" Ryoko cursed.
***
Ryoko sighed. For the past half-hour or so she and the others had been interrogated like they were common criminals. Obviously they had landed on a military post of sorts, or something along those lines. Those in charge seemed human, except for the stoic looking chap with the pointed ears. Earlier Ryoko could have sworn she had heard Urd mutter something about a 'pointy-eared devil' when he had escorted an older man and the one he called 'Captain' into the briefing room.
"So you're not Klingon agents?" asked the tall fellow in a goldenrod colored tunic for what seemed like the umpteenth time.
"No," Ryoko answered one more time for every one. "We were only looking for the bar."
"In the cargo hold?" the fellow in the gold tunic inquired. "That's unlikely unless you plan to distill your own drinks ladies."
"That was an accident," Ryoko explained, again. "That's just where we beamed in."
"So you have no interest in Sherman's Planet or the quadrotritacale?" a graying, fidgety fellow asked with a hint of skepticism masked in urgency in his voice. Ryoko noticed that every time some one mentioned the Quadrotritacale the 'Captain' would get a despondent look on his face and rub his temples.
"Captain," the pointy-eared one spoke, "There was an Andorian freighter in the vicinity that beamed a few guest on to the station. Perhaps these ladies became separated from one of the parties that transported over."
"Perhaps," the Captain mused. "I don't see any harm in letting them stay do you Bones? Spock?"
"A few young ladies never hurts in my opinion Jim," the one called Bones answered with a soft country drawl and a warm smile.
"They pose no threat in my opinion," Spock said, cocking one eyebrow. He seemed to be fixated on the white haired one who was addressed as Urd. Fascinating, he thought.
"So it's agreed," Captain Jim said, holding up a hand to ward off the fidgety fellows objections. "Ladies," Captain Jim continued, "please forgive us here, and enjoy all the hospitality the Federation and Station K-7 has to offer. Now if you would excuse me, I have a headache." Ryoko stifled a laugh as Captain Jim cut his eyes across the room to the gray fellow who was obviously biting his tongue.
"Let's hit the bar," Ryoko said with a stretch, rising from her chair.
"Maybe I'll join you later," Captain Jim said with a dangerous look in eye.
"I don't think my husband or wife would appreciate that," Ryoko said showing off the double band on her left ring finger and a hint of fang. "Come on," she motioned to the others. Urd stifled a laugh at the looks captain Jim was getting from Bones and Spock, but there was something about the Spock that she found not quite right…
***
"Talk about a bunch of stuffed shirts," mumbled a now slightly sobered Naga. "Boy, do I need a drink."
"I'll agree to that," Ryoko said studying the diagram labeled 'Station K-7' on the corridor wall. The saloon seemed to be located on the port-most of the stations disc shaped sections. "Here we go," she added, tracing the quickest route to the saloon with her finger.
"You guys go on ahead," Urd, said loosing the small purse of coins from her belt.
"What's up?" Ryoko inquired as she took the purse from the goddess.
"Just something I need to check out," Urd replied looking back towards the corridor from whence they had come.
"Suit your self," Naga said taking Nagi by the hand. "Where's that bar?"
"This way," Ryoko laughed leading the pair down the hall. Urd waved as her compatriots disappeared around the corridor bend. After waiting a few minutes she began to backtrack her way to the station directors office, when she ran into something. Something blue.
"Pardons, Miss Urd," Spock spoke stoically as Urd regained her balance.
"I should have been more careful," she said, casting a fleeting glance towards his eyes before studying the floor near her own shoes.
"The saloon is in the opposite direction," Spock said dragging Urd back to reality.
"I know," the white haired goddess replied sheepishly. "Tell me Mister Spock," Urd said regaining an air of her normal bravado, "what do you know of Norse mythology?" Spock cocked an eyebrow and allowed a faint half-smirk to cross his face.
***
"I expected more," Naga quipped as the saloon's ruddy colored doors slid open with a hydraulic hiss. K-7's saloon was certainly drabber than the cantina or previous cheerful places the group had frequented. Brown traction carpet lined the floor and its many tables while a well stocked bar stood apposite the arching windows. A space ship with a large saucer section and two protruding warp drive nacelles could be seen passing in orbit.
"As long as the beer's good," Nagi said. She had certainly seen worse establishments across the star systems, as had Ryoko. This one in particular reeked of ale and the trio of dark colored aliens sitting around one of the tables. Everyone else looked human, or close to it.
"What can I do for you lovely young ladies?" jovially asked the barkeep as Ryoko, Naga, and Nagi took a table close to the bar.
"My cloaked friend here would like a tankard of your finest beer while Naga and myself will have your best sake," Ryoko ordered, garnering nods from all.
"The finest beer I have is imported from Andor," The barkeep replied while drawing a frosted mug full of the amber draught, "but I'm slap out of sake. A fellow from the Federation ship bought my last bottles. Something about him and a yeoman and the arboretum," he elaborated.
"Then what do you recommend?" Ryoko asked as Naga sighed.
"So long as its good," the raven-haired sorceress mumbled.
"That it is," the barkeep replied as he produced an angular bottle of pale blue liquid from beneath the bar. "This is hard to come by," he said cutting his eyes from side to side, "and slightly illegal in this neck of the quadrant."
Ryoko allowed a smirk to cross her lips as the barkeep showed off the bottle. "You've got my attention," she said, eyeing the bottle. A hint of alleged illicitness always picked her curiosity.
"Romulan Ale," the barkeep said. "Cyrano Jones over there runs me a bottle on occasion. Quite rare and pricey."
"A smuggler?" Ryoko inquired as she tried to decipher the angular script on the bottles label.
"A dealer in hard to come by goods is what he prefers to be called." Ryoko smirked as the barkeep produced two small tumblers. "But it's pricey," he added.
"This should work," Ryoko said pulling a few of the gold coins from the purse Urd had given her.
The barkeep eyed the coin carefully before he took one. After tapping it on the counter he gave it a quick bite. Satisfied of its purity, he handed the bottle and tumblers to Ryoko. "Enjoy, and thank you for the business," he said with a crooked smile.
"Whatcha got?" Naga asked as Ryoko poured a glass of the Ale.
"Here goes," Ryoko toasted. With a quick gulp she downed the Romulan Ale in one swallow while Nagi and Naga watched for a reaction.
"Well?" Naga asked as Ryoko began to tremble slightly. "Ryoko?"
"Oh yeah!" Ryoko exclaimed as relished the taste of the Ale. "This is what I'm talkin' 'bout!"
Seeing no harm, Naga quickly followed suit. "Whoa," she breathed with a sigh, exhaling the liquors heat. "Not bad." A more eloquent compliment was the second, then third tumbler she downed in rapid succession.
As Naga enjoyed the Romulan Ale and Nagi called for her second tankard, Ryoko carefully watched the other inhabitants of the saloon. From her millennia as an intergalactic pirate she could spot a tense situation a mile away, and this was one of them. A group of humanoid looking fellows wearing red and gold tunics were suspiciously watching the trio of gaudily clad, dark-skinned aliens. Obviously there was some deep-rooted tension between the two peoples.
"Say my fair ladies," a nasally voice chimed, bringing Ryoko out of her thought. "Can I interest any of you beauties in an object of exquisite opulence?"
"Cut the crap Cyrano!" the barkeep laughed from the bar, eliciting giggles from the three young ladies.
"Whatcha peddling?" Ryoko asked, keeping an eye on the other occupants of the bar.
"Just one of the rarities of the galaxy," he smiled, producing a small fuzzy object from his tunic. "A real treasure…"
***
James T. Kirk was not having a good day. First off he had to be the only one in the quadrant who did not know what Quadro…quadro…what ever that stuff was called. Second, Klingons were on the station. Third he had a headache. Fourth, where the hell was Spock?
Entering the Enterprise's sickbay, Kirk spotted McCoy near a large glass container full of fuzzy, little critters. Blinking twice, this new oddity momentarily took the place of his headache. "Hey," he began nonchalantly, "how many of these did Uhura give you?" Kirk inquired as he picked up one of the fuzzy animals.
"Just one," McCoy responds, a tad perplexed.
"You have," Kirk paused to count, "uh, eleven."
"Ya noticed?" Bones remarked flatly. "I have no clue how they do it," he added shaking his head. "Near as I can tell they're born pregnant." Kirk nodded as Bones continued. "And ya know whatcha get when you feed a tribble?" he baited.
"A fat tribble?" countered Kirk flatly.
"No," replied McCoy, "you get a whole bunch of hungry tribbles."
"Funny Bones," Kirk quipped back, rubbing his temples. His roaring headache had made an outstanding come back. "Tell me," he said as one of the tribbles scurried away from him. "Have you seen Spock?"
"Not since we let those young ladies stay on the station," Bones laughed as one of the tribbles crawled up his arm. "Why? Think he has designs on one?"
"Spock?" Kirk laughed. "Lord no. I just had something to ask him," he finished heading for the door.
"What about all these?" Bones asked, sweeping a hand over the brood of tribbles.
"Well bones, all I can suggest is that you open a maternity ward," Kirk quipped as he vanished behind the closing sickbay doors.
***
"Whatcha peddling?" Ryoko asked, keeping an eye on the other occupants of the bar. To her trained eye tensions were beginning to rise
"Just one of the rarities of the galaxy," he smiled, producing a small fuzzy object from his tunic. "A real treasure," the peddler smiled. "A tribble."
"A what?" asked Naga as Cyrano pulled a small ball of fuzz from his tunic.
"A tribble my dear," Cyrano beamed as Naga received the ball of fur into her cupped hands. It trilled pleasantly as the sorceress nuzzled the fuzz ball to her cheek. "They like everyone but Klingons."
"What's a Klingon?" Nagi asked.
"Those fellows," the barkeep pointed towards the dark skinned aliens bantering with the human looking fellows.
"Can I interest you ladies in one or two?" Cyrano asked as Ryoko continued to watch the other inhabitants of the saloon. One of the red shirted humans was exchanging comments with one of the goateed Klingons. She quickly handed the annoying peddler a few coins for his tribbles and watched the situation. Few noticed her ears twitch as she listened to the brewing conversation.
"Oh, I just remembered," she heard one of the dark skinned aliens taunt as he swaggered over to the humans' table. "There is one Earthman who doesn't remind me of a Regulan Blood Worm. That's Kirk. A Regulan Blood Worm is soft and shapeless," he laughed. "But Kirk isn't soft."
This could be bad, Ryoko thought as she judged the reactions of the so-called 'Earthers'.
"Kirk may be a swaggering, overbearing, tin-plated dictator with delusions of godhood…" Now who does that remind me of, Ryoko thought as the Klingon continued his rant. "…but he's not soft." Ryoko tensed, as did Nagi, as one of the earthers jumped to his feet, but fortunately one of his comrades stopped him.
"Everyone's entitled to their opinion," the dark haired man said with a thick accent. "So take it easy mister."
"That's right," continued the Klingon. "And if I think that Kirk is a Denebrian Slime-Devil," he laughed, "well that's my opinion too."
Once again the fellow in the golden shirt jumped to his feet, but the dark haired fellow stopped him again. "Don't do it mister," he drawled, "and that's an order!"
The other Klingons laughed as the young man defended his Captain. "But you heard what they called the Keptin!"
"It's not worth fightin' for," his friend calmed. "We're big enough to take a few insults."
Ryoko noticed a gleam in the Klingon's eye. Uh-oh…here it comes… "Of course I'd say that Kirk deserves his ship," he laughed. "We like the Enterprise; we really do! That sagging, old rust bucket is designed like a garbage scow. Half the quadrant knows it. That's why they're learning Klingonase!"
"Mister Scott!" pleaded the fellow in the yellow tunic.
The one called Scott twirled his drink in its glass and spoke calmly towards the Klingon. "Laddie," he said taking a sip, "don'tcha think ya should…rephrase that?"
"You're right I should," the Klingon offered imitating Scott's accent. "I didn't mean to say that the Enterprise should be hauling garbage…" he laughed.
Ryoko tapped Nagi on the shoulder, who promptly sat her tankard down. She too had been following the exchange, and suspected what Ryoko did. They both cut their eyes to Naga. Who was more than preoccupied by her and Ryoko's pet tribbles.
"What I meant to say," the Klingon continued, "is that it should be hauled away as garbage!" He and his comrades laughed heartily as Scott finished his drink and slowly rose to his feet. Then with a crack the chief engineers fist connected to the Klingon's bearded jaw.
"He we go!" Ryoko whooped as the Klingon crashed into her table, spilling the remnants of Nagi's beer and her glass of Romulan Ale. Fortunately Naga had saved the bottle.
"Look out lassie," Scott hollered as a staggering Klingon stumbled towards Ryoko.
"Thanks!" she called out as her fist sent the alien flying across the bar into another table, reducing it to space trash. Unfortunately no such warning call for the Klingon that behind her. With a crash he shattered a bar stool across the former pirate's heads.
"Not smart!" Ryoko growled as she loosed an energy burst into the Klingon's midsection, which sent his reeling back towards Chekov who promptly floored him with a right cross.
"I hope ya' set that hand of yours to 'stun' lassie," Scott joked as he backed up to Ryoko. Three more Klingons had decided to come to their comrades' aid.
"Always," Ryoko grinned. She couldn't tell if it was the adrenalin rush of being in one more barroom brawl or the Romulan Ale taking hold, but she was definitely enjoying herself. Which was more than the poor Klingons could say as she tossed one towards the still drinking Naga. "Heads up!" she warned.
Naga lifted the half consumed bottle of Ale from the bar top as the Klingon slid down the bar heads first. "Hi there," Naga said with a hint of inebriation as the Klingon came to rest right in front of her. All the poor devil could mange was a faint groan before he passed out, either from Ryoko's punch or the alcohol on Naga's breath. "I wonderif Urd's havin thish mush fun," Naga mused as she downed another tumbler of the blue ale…
***
Kirk wondered if the day could get any worse. To compound his list of troubles from before, he had just received word from the Station that a rip-roaring donnybrook had erupted in the saloon. Plus, Spock was still AWOL, and his headache had yet to desist. As he waited beside the turbo-lift he noticed a tribble scooting across the floor. When the doors slid open, another of the furry creatures exited the car.
Shaking his head, Kirk turned the lift controls to the habitat deck. He could tell that before this assignment was over, he would need a vacation. A nice long vacation on a friendly planet where the skies were blue and the native women even friendlier.
But first he had to find Spock and get to the station.
Exiting the car, he headed for Spock's quarters. He'd better have a damned good excuse, Kirk thought as his hand hovered above the door chime, but he stopped millimeters from the button. "What in the hell?" he cursed as a faint giggle came from behind the door followed by the sounds of things being shuffled and some unintelligible words in what sounded like Vulcan.
"Can't be," Kirk mused as the door slid open with a hiss.
"Captain!" Urd squeaked, nearly bowling into Kirk. Kirk looked the goddess over and noted her rather disheveled state of affairs.
"Yes, Jim?" Spock inquired stepping into view behind Urd. True to form, he was as neatly placed and stoic as ever.
Kirk shook his head. "We have a situation down on the station," Kirk stated flatly, trying to force certain mental images from his mind.
"The Klingons?" Spock inquired.
"Partly," Kirk continued as Urd shoved a few strands of platinum hair behind her ear. "It seems that miss Urd's friends and mister Scott have started a brawl with the Klingons.
"Ryoko…" Urd mumbled as she straightened her blouse. "I'll see to them," she said before shimmering from view.
Kirk just shook his head as Spock fell into step behind him. "I don't even want to know," Kirk said preemptively.
"We were just discussing Norse Mythology from ancient Earth," Spock began, keeping pace with Kirk.
"Norse Mythology?" Kirk asked somewhat quizzically.
"Yes," Spock replied. "A most fascinating subject."
"I'm sure it is…"
"Tell me Jim," Spock began as the waited by the turbo-lift doors, "Have you ever met a goddess before?"
***
Urd cringed at the mess she saw in K-7's saloon. Six dark skinned aliens that had to be Kirk's 'Klingons' were laid out all over the saloon. Little piles stood here and there were all that remained of the establishments' furniture. Finally she spied Ryoko, Nagi, Naga, and a dark haired fellow in a red tunic leaning up against the bar sharing a bottle of blue liquor.
"Ye pack quite a wallop lassie," Scottie laughed as he sipped his ale. A large blue bruise under his left eye was beginning to shine, and Ryoko was sporting a similar badge under left eye.
"Haven't had that much fun in quite a while," Ryoko laughed. "Not since a pie fight on Jurai."
"I neva been to 'Jurai,'" Scotty said as he downed his ale.
"Not missin' much," Ryoko elaborated, polishing of her own drink. "Just a bunch of stuffed royal shirts. That and my wife is from there, and my husband is one-eighth Juraian."
"I see," Scott laughed.
"I see I missed all the fun," Urd laughed, stepping over an unconscious Klingon as she made her way to the bar. Naga had another bottle of the blue ale open and a red-faced fellow behind the bar was drawing Nagi another tankard.
"And whersh were you?" Naga asked as Urd sniffed the tumbler of blue drink the sorceress had given her.
"Just having a discussion with Mr. Spock," Urd said with a blush as she tested the high-octane drink. "Say, not bad."
"I think you lassies better be running along now," Scott said handing Ryoko a bottle of Romulan Ale from behind the counter. "On me Miss Ryoko."
"Thanks Scottie," Ryoko said as the others gathered around her. "Sorry for the trouble."
"Ye were no trouble at all!" Scotty laughed, raising his glass to the young ladies once more.
"Four to beam up," Ryoko laughed, wondering why she had the sneaking suspicion that the saying was oddly appropriate. Scotty just chuckled as the four disappeared in a shimmering column of light, just as Kirk and Spock arrived with the station's security brigade.
***
To be continued…
***
Notes: I'd like to thank Bob for allowing me to guest write this chapter. So, all blame for its tardiness falls on my shoulders. I hope that this was no tribble for any of you.
William Nichols
*****
Editor's Notes
Well, this was a truly wonderful piece and it just goes to prove once again what a magnificent author Mr. Nichols is. The only major editing I did was the removal of his epilog, which I will re-include in the final chapter of this story.
*****
BobR
8/9/2002