First of all, I apologize that this chapter is a little longer than usual, but, as it is the climactic third dream, I suppose it is warranted. Second, I do not own any part of the Star Trek franchise or its constituent life forms, languages, or locales; So please forgive any artistic liberties or mistakes in this story. Third, there is a crapload of Klingon in this chapter, so if any of you Trekkers are fluent in thlngan Hol out there, please feel free to correct me in the reviews. If you need help with translation, you can Google any number of Klingon phrasebooks, dictionaries, or lexicons out there, and, if you need spiritual enlightenment, there's even a Klingon Bible! Thanks again for the ever-increasing number of followers out there, you all complete me:)
Commander Cooper pulled the collar of his undershirt over his mouth, the scent of the synthetic material only partially obscuring the smells of the crowded walkway to Kol'eron Beach. In front of him, his fellow Starfleet commanders Hofstadter, Wolowitz, and Koothrapali had already shed their dress uniforms for the more informal but still official Starfleet daywear, which consisted of short-sleeved versions of their standard issue blues. Cooper, however, still wore his full dress set, with his Starfleet insignia proudly displayed. He would leave no doubt as they worked their way down the blue paved pathway that he was in every way an honorable officer of the Federation.
He sighed as they squeezed through the crowd, trying to get to the sanitary stations where they could relieve themselves, wash up, and change into their bathing suits. The whole affair was absurd and quite annoying to Cooper, who had no intention of leaving the purple sands of the shore. He hadn't wanted to go on the furlough anyway; the only reason he had taken the transport beam down to this noisy, germ-infested hell hole was by Captain Riker's orders.
"Go down there and have some fun, Cooper, you've earned it!" the Captain has said in that loud, blustery way he did when he tried to appear informal. "It might give you a chance to unwind and think."
"I can assure you, Captain, I am in no way 'wound up', and I can think perfectly well in the confines of my lab and quarters," the Enterprise's Chief Science Officer had protested.
"Go on, take a vacation! Relax!" Riker had countered. "If anything, it will be a vacation for me from your endless status reports and safety trials."
Cooper had been slightly offended by the Captain's dismissive attitude towards the quality standards the commander tried to hold for himself and the rest of the crew. "Captain, with all due respect…"
"Commander Cooper! That's an order!" Riker barked, his patience tested. "Now move out, beam down and enjoy yourself!"
There was no use arguing with the man, even through the use of logic and precedent. So, here he was, trudging through the sweaty mass of humans, Romulans, Klingons, Bajorans, and who knew what else to go traipse around, getting purple particulates in his underwear, being roasted by Gorkon's orange sun, and being eaten alive by the infamous Kol'eronian sand mites. And that was if he stayed on the beach. If he dared to enter the bubbly pinkish water, he also could expect to be nibbled on by any number of marine species, not to mention whatever bacteria had washed off the dirty, sweaty tourists who frequented the resort planet.
Of course, the planning of the whole weeklong ordeal was left to Wolowitz, which was the equivalent of handing the keys of the Manhattan Project to Dr. Frankenstein. Only the ship's head engineer could have found a way to book a berth during the festival of Sh'nek-taa, when every hormone-crazed student within two quadrants came to ostensibly perform the Transcendence Ritual but in reality spent the entire time drinking gallons of the galaxy's cheapest spirits and engaging in interspecies coitus. It was enough to make Cooper imbibe Terlactian Blueberry Juice, which was famous for also dissolving oxidation off of the hull of hovercraft.
"Hurry up, Sheldon," Hofstadter shouted back to the fuming Cooper. "We've got to check in, get clean and changed, and back to the bar in time for the wet toga contest."
Cooper pulled down his collar. "Leonard, I hardly think watching nascent females of various planetary origins dowse themselves in green liquor and gyrate on table tops is appropriate entertainment for Starfleet officers."
"Suit yourself, Commander Pooper of Starfart," the already-inebriated Koothrapali shouted. "We've got a date with some alien hotties down on the beach. See ya, Dude."
The three officers headed into the station to change. The thought of cramming into those rancid, damp water closets made Cooper shudder with dread. He turned toward the long, crowded outdoor bar, where there were a few open spots and at least a stool to rest his hot and tired feet. The sun, bearing down on a 29 Celsius day, made him swelter, and a cool drink would be refreshing. Perhaps they had some Diet Coke, or at least some bottled water? He settled down and ordered, thankful they sold soft drinks, although the Bajoran bartender looked at him as if he were a Dugara street performer. A few moments later he sat in the shade of the awning, nursing his Diet Pepsi—the latest in a line of debilitating hardships on this pleasure cruise.
"NuqNeh, Starfleet," a rough, high pitched voice pierced through the noise behind him.
He turned around and lifted his eyebrows in genuine surprise. In his years in Starfleet, he had studied many different life forms, species, and natives from dozens of planets, but he had never seen a creature quite like the one who now greeted him.
"What up, 'IHpu?" the female creature chirped, smiling as she held a large glass of mirky purple fluid, garnished with what appeared to be a thistle leaf.
She was of average humanoid height for a female, and indeed, her torso and extremities were clearly human, with fair skin that glistened with protective Pamutan seed oil, giving it a slightly orange cast. Dressed—he used this term loosely—in a very meager two-piece bikini, her shape would have been aesthetically acceptable by Earth standards. But the story from the neck up was much more intriguing. The face was also humanoid, with an average nose, full lips, and green eyes, but he could clearly see her sharp incisors touching the edges of her bottom lip. The forehead was bumpy and rough, forming a sort of wavy pattern up to the crown of the head. Long tresses of sun-bleached blond hair fell down on both sides of the forehead, wavy and free-flowing in the gentle breeze, save for two thin braids on either side of the expressive face.
"Qastah nuq, Spaceman?" she asked, her friendly tone now darkening as a result of Cooper's lack of acknowledgement. "Doesn't Starfleet teach you how to greet a stranger?"
It was clear this girl was no ordinary life form. The fit, lithe body, the bright, cheery face, and the whiny dialect were from Earth, most likely Midwestern North America. But the terse thlngan Hol interjections coupled with the rough cranial features were obviously Klingon, although he had never seen a thlngan with blonde hair. This was clearly a new, hybrid species, like nothing he had ever seen before.
"You speak Klingon," Cooper blurted, snapping out of his surprised demeanor.
"That's because I am Klingon," she replied quickly, her head bobbing slightly to the right.
"And human," Cooper continued, surprised by her surly attitude towards a Starfleet officer.
"Yup," she said, smiling proudly. "Born in Nebraska, raised on Starbase Alpha 18."
"Fascinating," he mused, then gathered himself and placed his palm on his chest. "JiH Jaghla' Shel-donh Kupr, Duj 'En-Ter-PraS, eq Tera'."
Her mouth formed an exaggerated "O" and her eyes got large. "Wow! You're a Starfleet Commander from Earth?" she said with a mock gasp. "The pale skin and stuffy uniform totally fooled me."
"Excuse me, Miss, but are you using sarcasm?" he retorted, furrowing his brow.
"YlDoghQo, Jaghla'!" she said, inching towards him. "You know we Klingons don't do sarcasm. Qapla'!" She slapped her chest with her closed fist, jostling her drink.
Sheldon squared his shoulders and straightened his arms to the side. "But Earth girls do sarcasm, don't they?"
"Uh, yeah, I guess," she replied, surprised by his genuine question. "Let's try this again. My name is P'neh LoqPeh, from the Cheesecake Factory at Starbase Gamma 12. But most of my friends call me Penny."
"Oh, well, Penny, I am Commander Sheldon L. Cooper, Chief Science Officer of the starship Enterprise. But you already knew that."
"Yeah, I figured that out," she said with a droll grin. "Listen, I didn't mean to bother you, but I'm just trying to help out a friend. Do you see that slinky Vulcan over my shoulder?"
Cooper looked and pointed to a tall, thin girl down the bar in a blue jumpsuit. "You mean that one waving at me now?"
Penny turned and drew her finger across her throat, mouthing "Cool it" to her friend, who was sitting next to a short blonde Brekkian in spectacles. Turning back to Cooper, she beamed a toothy smile and continued. "We're all here for Sh'nektaa, and she wants to meet you."
"So it would seem you are her wing man," Cooper mused, still considering the Vulcan, then looking back to the hybrid. "You should know that it is against Starfleet regulations to fraternize with local citizens in a non-official capacity, not to mention initiating conjugal relationships."
"I'm not talking about conjugation, I'm talking about drinks and party conversation," Penny said, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, you're supposed to be on leave, right? So loosen that dress shirt and come say hello."
She reached for the top button on Cooper's shirt, and the officer parried her with his hand. "As an officer of Starfleet, I order you to cease and desist, or I will be forced to defend myself!"
"Okay! Stand down, Commander!" Penny jerked her hand away, wiggling her fingers as if to show she meant no harm. "I wasn't going to attack you, I was just…never mind. Besides, if I wanted to jotlh you, you'd be eating sand by now."
Cooper fussed with his tightly-fastened collar and looked at the large cocktail in her hand, which had remained untouched. "Due to your obvious inebriation, I'll excuse your near-assault of an officer…this time."
She opened her mouth wide in disbelief. "I am not drunk, you big bo'Degh," she protested, placing her hand on her hip and taking a deep quaff. "I'll have you know this is only my second drink of the day, and it usually takes three of these things to even get me tipsy!" She nodded her head curtly to emphasize the last word, at which she stumbled slightly, then quickly recovered.
"Yep…definitely my th-third," she slurred hoarsely, catching her breath.
Cooper sniffed the thick perrywinkle suspension. "Is that fermented Terlactian blueberry juice, mixed with borghel eggs and Padari yak milk?"
Penny lifted an eyebrow and took another sip. "Mmm, so that's what's giving me that extra ki—ick," she stammered. "Damn, this shi—it is beating me like a p-puq…"
"Where did you get this drink?" Cooper interjected, his scientific mind suddenly engaged.
She shuffled her feet, turning sideways and gesturing to the bar. "Somebody bought me this…oh there he is…" She trailed off and smiled in the direction of a Ferengi in a garish beach shirt and shades, who returned her smile with a raised hand.
Cooper looked at the would-be Lothario, then took the large glass from her increasingly unstable grip. He looked at it closely and frowned. "It's not the juice that's impairing you," he announced, pulling the thistle gingerly out of the glass with his fingertips. "It's this Gorkonian Ju'ber weed, which is known to cause dizziness, blackouts, and motor impairment. Someone was trying to slip you a mickey." He threw the leaf to the sand, stamped on it, then kicked sand over it.
"Hey buddy, what the frunj do you think you're doing?" the Ferengi now strode up to the officer and the wobbly coed. "That was the lady's drink. Let her have it if she wants."
"Yeah, lemme have id if I wannit…" Penny stumbled, reaching for the glass with grasping hands.
Cooper held it out of her reach. "Oh no, be'qub," he held out his arm, blocking her. "You've had enough already!" He poured out the liquid on the purple sand, which made a hissing sound on contact, sending a plume of smoke and the smell of sulphur into the air.
"Typical Starfleet bull rocht," the Ferengi sneered. "You get a fancy suit and you think you're the boss of the universe. Well, you're not the boss of me, see? Here's what I think of your Federation."
The interloper lunged for Cooper's insignia, but before he could grab it, the commander reached out and clamped his hand on the Ferengi's shoulder, halting his advance.
"Cease and desist, by the authority the United Federation of Planets!" Cooper intoned in his most intimidating voice.
"What the hell—" the assailant gawked as he was cut off.
"Just a little something I picked up from my friends on Vulcan," the commander sniffed with a bemused smile. "This should neutralize you until the authorities can be summoned."
"Ow! I don't think…you're doing it right…" the Ferengi grunted, struggling in Cooper's grasp.
"I…received a Certificate of Completion…from the Vulcan Intergalactic Learning Institute seminar…last year," Cooper groaned, starting to strain against his attacker.
"Well then…how can I do…THIS?" the Ferengi pushed against Cooper's grip with his shoulder and with his free hand threw an uppercut off of the Starfleet officer's chin, sending him spinning to the ground.
"Well, what are yer Vulcan buddies gonna think of ya now, Starfleet?" He stood over Cooper's supine body, shaking his fingers. "You can pinch somebody, but you can't take a punch."
A guttural cry erupted from behind the Ferengi's head, and he turned just in time to feel the back of Penny's hand against his lips. Bloodied, he stumbled forward as the screaming girl grabbed his bulbous ears and pulled him down, thrusting her knee into his stomach. She shoved him to the ground, and stepped on his chest pinning him to the sand.
"IhNod, Varengan Ha'DIbaH!" she roared viciously. "This is a Starfleet Officer, Ass-wipe! How dare you assault a Commander of the Starship Enterprise!"
She then unleashed a torrent of the most vulgar, scathing street thlngan, loaded with references to body parts and functions, maternal ancestry, animal husbandry, and threats of dismemberment. By the time she punctuated the tirade by spitting twice at the vanquished Ferengi, the beach patrol had arrived to fetch the grateful assailant.
Commander Cooper had become conscious during P'neh's verbal outburst, and as he began to gain his bearings, he saw the wild but friendly face of a blonde with braids and spittle at the corners of her grinning mouth.
"You alright, Jaghla'?" she said, her sharp front teeth accentuating her warm smile.
"I thought it would work…I made Leonard pass out back on the ship..."
"Why don't you leave the pinches to the Vulcans, and leave the ass-whipping to us Klingons?" she said, crouching over him.
"Fair enough," Cooper relented. She pulled his arms up and helped him to his feet, as the crowd that had gathered clapped and cheered. She began helping to wipe off the sand from his uniform. She stopped and looked at him pensively.
"Sorry, I forgot, I didn't mean…" she said, biting her lip and looking up in his blue eyes.
"All is well, Ms. P'neh Loqpeh," the Commander responded, his features softened. "You've more than earned the right to dust off my uniform." He then unbuttoned his top shirt and took it off, handing it to her. "Besides, I am on leave, and officially off-duty."
She smiled and took the shirt. "Now that's more like it. Let's go get a proper Terlactian blueberry cocktail."
"No thank you, but if you know of a way to obtain a Diet Coke, I would only be further in your debt."
"I'll see what I can do," she said, smacking his back and laughing.
"Cooper! There you are!" Hofstadter approached, with the other two officer nearby. "I just saw a big Ferengi being taken to the detention cell, what's going on?"
"Well, I was minding my own business, when this young…" Cooper began, turning towards Penny.
"…this young Ferengi dog gave me a spiked cocktail and tried to have his way with me," Penny interrupted, giving Cooper an assertive look. "But this long, tall Starfleet Officer, Commander Cooper of the Starship Enterprise, gave him a Vulcan neck pinch, then opened a can of qajey on his SaHut!"
To emphasize the point, the girl smacked him on his butt, stirring a cloud of sand particles. Cooper jumped, then looked down disapprovingly as she winked and grinned deviously.
"Wow, I guess that Vulcan Seminar came in handy after all," Hofstadter smiled. "You're gonna have to teach us that back at the ship." He looked at Penny, pushing his sunglasses up his nose. "And who are you, young…lady?"
"Oh I'm no lady, Starfleet," the gregarious blonde quipped, extending a hand. "I'm half-Klingon, half-human, and all be'mongI warrior. P'neh Loqpeh, intergalactic cheesecake slinger."
"She prefers Penny," Cooper chimed in. She turned and nodded approvingly.
The two girls that had accompanied Penny to the beach burst through the crowd and embraced their friend. "Are you alright? We saw the commotion and wondered if you were okay."
"Oh, I'm fine, I just had to get another round of drinks," Penny said, waving over Cooper. "Commander Cooper, this is Eh-me, from Vulcan. She's the one I told you about."
The tall woman with pricked ears and spectacles reached out stiffly and shook Cooper's hand. "It's such a pleasure to meet you, Commander. I am myself a product of the Academy, and hope soon to be deployed. Are you a Science Officer?"
Before he could answer, the diminutive Brakkian interrupted and held out a short-hemmed muslin toga. "Penny, it's almost time for the contest. You better get suited up."
Cooper turned to the blonde and considered her warily, eyebrows raised. "Please don't tell me you're participating in that prurient ritual."
Penny grabbed the toga and leaned in close to the Commander. "I'm not participating in that prurient ritual. I'm merely exploring my role in the greater cultural experience of Sh'nektaa."
"Sarcasm?" he returned, looking into her eyes.
"Klingons don't do sarcasm, remember?" she replied, her smiling eyes looking upward. "But earth girls do."
"There's only one thing I can say to that," the Commander intoned. He stood up straight, clenched his fist and beat it on his chest. "Baqh Tsing GaaH!"
The entire group mimicked the gesture and shouted, "Baqh Tsing Gaah!"
Penny looked at him, placed her hand on his cheek and kissed him, whispering, "Baqh Tsing Gaah, Moonpie."
"Only my SusNi calls me that…" he protested, as he leaned into her waiting lips...
Sheldon blinked as the Star Trek theme played on his alarm clock, precisely at 6:30. He stretched and yawned, having had a fitful night of sleep, recalling his dream of Penny as a Klingon-Earthling warrior. It gave him a chill, which he wasn't certain was a result of her brashness, the coarseness of her Klingon dialect, or the warmth of her kiss. Or it could have merely been the blueberries kicking back, he wasn't sure.