Entaaro Nasz Pt 2

Posted on Sun 30th Apr, 2023 @ 8:44pm by Commodore H'tek

1,346 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Neither Yours Nor Mine
Location: Brown Sector Boulangerie
Timeline: MD1 0700

Previously...
Sam tried to wrest control of the scene. "Thank you Entaaro look we didnt meant to offend you. My associate here has every right to feel the way she does her family has taken losses. we wear the uniform and will work together though. We became true allies during the Dominion war, we learned how to move past this right?"

-Start-

Entaaro wasn't satisfied, "On the the subject of the Dominion war I’d also like to reflect on the three weeks where the entirety of Starfleet was rendered inert by a Breen energy dampening weapon?”

The other man at the table, a fresh faced ensign with crew cut hair and tanned skin asked, "What does that have to do with anything?"

Using the best storytellers cadence and timbre he extolled, "The Galaxy needed us, needed that fearsome presence to hold off the Dominion from rolling over the lines. How many were saved by the savagery of a Klingon heart in defense of the mighty Federation?"

He paused to let the point sink in, speaking directly to the brunette, “We are fighters, but we are also allies. We held your lines, upheld your colonial defenses, saw to the repatriation of lost ground at the loss of ten thousands souls a day!”

She had dug the heels in, refusing to budge. "Thank you Entaaro, for coming over here. Really enjoyed this lecture."

Sam glared at his friend, she had angered the man and given him a solid reason to be that way. She didn't look at Entaaro as he dug into a gravelly voice loaded with malevolence. “Does your bigotry to my people allow any recognition or gratitude for that?"

She finally looked at him, “I resent the implication and a gratitude for what?”

Entaaro made a wide open hand gesture, “For when the Galaxy needed it most, We. Were. There. Did you know it was a Klingon Raider crew that saved our fleets? Their encounters with the Breen had already informed them of the weapons effects, and how to counteract them. Imagine, a Raider crew’s science skills and ingenuity being the savior of our combined fleets!”

Samuel raised a hand, “Ok, Ok. We got off to a bad start here, and please, have my seat. Let’s start over okay?” Sam grabbed the chair from a neighboring table and set it down hard right next to his own seat. “I am Lieutenant JG, Samuel Chambliss.” The chair and greeting had the effect of a thrown gauntlet, and Entaaro responded in kind.

With a Dervish flare to his robes, the Klingon sat with an air of assuming a throne. “Thank you. Tell me Samuel, who are your friends here?”

Sam pointed at the Ktarian, “Ensign Aruoar,” Then across from him, “Ensign Callista,” before he could point, the other guy spoke up, “I’m Brixton, and I agree with Callista. I mean no disrespect, you all want to be seen as warriors right?”

Entaaro appreciated the earnest nature of the question, it also provided insight into their outlooks. He considered before replying, “We like to hear about ourselves, some or most like to be feared. We also have castes, and the warrior class is a dominant, profitable one many rise to. Other classes exist, but are not seen on the frontiers in so great a number.”

“Are you from another class?” Aruoar seemed interested as well. Their curiosity was paving over their uncertainty.

“Yes, I am a Guildsman, the caste which trains in sciences, biology, engineering, and exploration. Would you be surprised to know there is another caste strictly for shipbuilding? Another solely dedicated to the internal security of our empire? Or that we practice a faith of over a trillion adherents? A Klingon can find their path early or late, but all pass through the warrior castes at some point.”

Callista had also lost her defensive posturing, “I’m sorry for assuming the worst, I really thought you were trying to leave without paying.” The others nodded as well.

Entaaro smiled widely, glad the ice had been broken. “Thank you, I am sorry for your tensions, my people do have a well deserved reputation as troublemakers. Even as a comms officer I was expected to go to battle regularly or lose status in the eyes of my peers. Since coming to the Federation in the officer exchange I have found the methods of this Starfleet to be exceptional.”

Sam let his jaw drop a bit. They only exchanged Bridge officers, full lieutenants barely qualified to apply. “Entaaro, may I ask your actual rank and position here?”

“Of course, I am Commander Entaaro Nasz. I have been brought to this starbase to conduct missions pertaining to diplomatic and tactical information gathering.”

Sam felt the urge to stand at attention, but none of them were wearing a uniform. This was an encounter in the wild between off duty officers. Callista sat upright in an instant.

“Nice to meet you, Sir.” The usage of “sir” was not so conciliatory any more, it was said with emphasis as it should have been from the start.

Aruoar diplomatically offered another question to continue the de-escalation, “Ktaria lets artists work for government pay, we make games, dances, music, so is there a class for artists, or performers. All I know of Klingons and their culture is intense stuff I dont feel comfortable with.”

Finally talking about his real culture, Entaaro smiled all the way to his eyes. “I will have to remember when "T'quth a Ktobin" has their next performance circuit. They pledge their lives to the show and perform feats of acrobatics Im sure even you could appreciate for a non Felus species. I've seen Alaysus perform "Curtains on the Sunset" and the flexibility is divine. I found myself popping my back throughout the show in sympathy!"

Aruoar blushed, "Curtains is a classic, I am happy you saw it with Alaysus, she is exceptional even among us."

"We all seek to develop our soul, my family has been in forge work, literature, monastic retreats are common. We have millions of plays and songs. The food you know is from the savages of oour front lines, G'agh is apalling, you must try our Volcanic Truffles.

The joke made them smile, and it seemed everyone had lowered their phasers.

Ensign Callista was warming up the conversation, but she had not set out to be lectured today. Eager to score another point to her favor she supplied, “Isn’t the Opera “Gogan T’plaq” about suppressing slave rebellions?”

He chuckled, it was one of the most famous of the Klingon Opera, “Well yes it is, and the plight of the enslaved Gogan has connected to the hearts of the audience for over two thousand years and countless languages. Though he loses in the end, his heart and passion for freedom are the foundation for the individual sense of liberty we all feel. Your epics of the Roman slave Spartacus share many of the same elements.”

Sam had just finished a sip of his coffee, a subtle point creeping into his mind that he was drinking a latte version of Raktajino, “It's just I've heard Klingons do not value the arts or sciences the same as military accomplishment though, so how does it work with the castes if only the warriors are valued?”

The others took the chance as well to chew and sip waiting for the reply. After Entaaro had made the appropriate sounds of a person thinking, he articulated himself in a sharp breath before speaking. “A baker who makes bread and feeds the soldiers is serving the empire with their skill. The bread fills their belly, and gives them good sleep. An engineer who keeps their ship running well, protects the Empire behind a fleet that is always ready to battle. Spies ward off other spies, and carry out hidden agendas which all serve the Empire.

Brixton spotted a theme, “Service to the Empire then? Is that why the terror raids for almost two hundred years were done?”

-TBC-

 

RSS Feed