Ensign Ragh and 1stLt Samuel Woolheater- Karaoke Night, Klingon Style- Part Two

[Ryan Augustyn]

(( Klaxo's - That same night - DS14 ))

[Continued from Part 1]

It was good to get out and spend some time doing something crazy fun like singing. Sam finished his blood wine, which had him somewhat buzzed by now.

Woolheater: All right, Doc. Your turn’s done. Now I pick the next song.

Ragh: Ah, I am ready!

Sam went to the computer and typed in the request. The music started and the lyrics came on the screen.

Woolheater: My family is from a place called Georgia. I'm third generation Pacifican. But, like they say, 'You can take a boy out of the country; but you can't take the country out of the boy. This is a warrior's song too. Don't forget where you came from. Sing it with me Ragh!

"Almost Heaven, West Virginia 

Blue Ridge Mountains, 

Shenandoah River 

Life is old there, older than the trees 

Younger than the mountains, growing like a breeze.  

Country roads, take me home

To the place I belong 

West Virginia, mountain mama 

Take me home, country roads.

Country Roads"

The Klingon was not familiar with this particular warrior's song, but he could tell from the confident way Sam was singing it that it truly must be a good one! It didn't speak of any battles.. but he supposed one's pride in their homeland was equally worthy of song.

Unbeknownst to the two singers, there was a new member in the audience. A slinky looking Ferengi had been watching their most recent performance with much interest.

Ragh: Well sung, my friend! Another round!

Woolheater: Sounds good. Doctor's orders!

The two walked to the bar again, when they heard a heard voice behind them.

Grulo: Excuse me, gentlemen. A moment of your time.

Ragh looked at Sam, and shrugged. He didn't have much interaction with the Ferengi and he was in a good mood anyways.

Ragh: Do you want to sing with us?

The Ferengi put on a fake smile and laughed. 

Grulo: Oh no, I'm not a singer. But let me play my compliments to your.. fine skills. The name is Grulo.

Woolheater: ::long drink of warnog:: Ahh!! That's an adult beverage right there. Grulo. What's a nice Ferengi like you doing down here next to the wicker basket shop?

If Sam was feeling suspicious of the Ferengi, Ragh was oblivious to it. 

Ragh: Ragh, son of Torgh.

Grulo: Well met, friend. I'll cut to the chase. I represent many talented people. People like yourself. Why, I haven't heard such glorious singing before. You must be a truly honorable Klingon.

Woolheater: Glorious singing? 

Ragh: Let's hear him out. 

Whether it was the alcohol or he was just naive, Ragh was missing the very obvious scam that was unfolding before them. 

Sam looked at Ragh.

Woolheater: Ragh. Doc. I gotta tell ya. Don't quit your day job. At best, we are shower divas.

Ragh simply glared at Sam, and gestured at Grulo to continue.

Sam looked at Grulo.

Woolheater: Save the spiel buddy. We ain't buying it.  

Grulo: I guess you're not interested in making a very large sum of latinum to simply sing a couple songs..

Now, wait a second…that got Sam's attention what Grulo said right there.

Woolheater: Come again? I think I heard something crazy…

Ragh: Sing what songs?

Grulo smiled a hideous grin.

Grulo: It's quite simple. I know a guy who knows a guy who is looking for someone to sing at an exclusive event he's throwing. He is a very important player in the local scene.

Ragh, not at all picking up what Grulo is putting down, was too focused on being invited to sing that he missed the implications of what was said.

Woolheater: You're kidding. Right? You know…we only look stupid, OK? We're not getting involved in anything illegal like…singing. As an example.

Grulo feigned innocence.

Grulo: Criminal? Illegal? No, no. He's a procurer of goods. An honest businessman, I assure you.

Ragh began to speak but Sam pulled him by the shoulder away from the Ferengi. 

Woolheater: Ragh, I'm pretty sure this is all a shame. He's playing to your ego. I mean, mine's totally not interested at all. We sign up, pay a fee and then get mugged…or worse…in some dank, dark alley way around here. Probably behind the waffle iron shop. These are scammers, maybe even semi-professional crime bosses.

Ragh: (whispering) Crime boss? That doesn't seem very likely..

Woolheater: Yeah. I'll have them etch that on your Klingon headstone. And then I will follow your drunk dumbass to Grethor and haunt you for dragging me to sing tonight.

Ragh frowned, and casted a side-eye at Grulo.

Ragh: Hmm. That does make a certain amount of sense. So let's tell him no.

The two walk back up to the waiting Ferengi.

Ragh: Unfortunately we can't take you up on your offer.

Grulo whispered something into his collar. 

Grulo: No problem, I expected as much.

Sam now noticed there were more people in the bar than there were a few minutes ago. The types that didn't look like they were there to do karaoke.

Ragh slowly turned his head to look around the room. There were three big looking goons, all blocking any potential exit. Conveniently the Rigellian bartender was nowhere in sight.

Ragh: We'll be leaving now.

Woolheater: ::low, calm:: Grulo… you picked the wrong table. ::sets the mug down, slow, deliberate::

The Klingon took a step towards Grulo.

Woolheater: You see two off-duty idiots who can’t sing. What you don’t see… is a Starfleet Marine and a Starfleet doctor who just walked into something that smells a whole lot like organized coercion. ::small glance around the room::

And another step.

Woolheater: Now… you see those cameras? They've been recording the whole time. And we've ordered drinks and we've played and sung to songs…all of that leaves a lot of video and computer evidence. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe this is all friendly. Maybe those three gentlemen by the door just really love karaoke. ::beat::

Ragh, who had fully caught on as to what was going on, looked menacingly at the Ferengi, who was now inches away.

Woolheater: Or maybe you’re about ten seconds away from this turning into paperwork. The kind that gets transmitted. The kind that goes to Court…the kind that generates a lot of questions and investigations. The kind that ends scammers and lands others in jail.

::leans in slightly::

Woolheater: So here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to finish our drinks. We’re going to leave. And you’re going to decide this was a misunderstanding.

Grulo threw his hands up, and played at being innocent.

Grulo: Yes, you're right. I believe we've come to a.. misunderstanding.

Woolheater: That sounds like a profitable decision?

He knew a lost cause when he saw it. Deciding that the potential risk was greater than the potential profit, Grulo bailed on his haphazard plan.

Grulo: Gentlemen, it was nice attempting business with you. 

He turns and gestures to his henchmen.

Grulo: I'll be on my way.

Ragh wanted to protest, now itching for a fight, but Sam put his arm in front of him.

Woolheater: Ragh. We're better than that. Pick your fights brother; this one ain't worth it.

Ragh: Very well. 

He looked back at the now leaving Ferengi.

Ragh: We could have taken them.

Woolheater: You bet we could've 

The now dejected Ragh took a moment to think. The opportunity for a fight now behind them, he can only think of one other thing to do.

Ragh: I'll sign us up for another song.

Sam could sense that the man felt let down. He was like a can of beer that had been shaken; not stirred and was now all riled up. He got an idea.

Woolheater: I’ve got a holodeck program I use when my blood’s up. I’ll share it with you. But first… ::He picked up his mug, gave it a firm knock against the table, just enough to mark the beat.:: (Tune: Monk's Gate)

Woolheater: …I’m gonna teach you a song. This'll get you ready for the holladeck. ::He didn’t rush it. Low voice. Strong. Sam could carry a tune. Easy. Like something that had been around longer than both of them.::  

Woolheater:  "Who would true valour see, 

Let them come hither…"

::A glance sideways, inviting, not pushing.::

Woolheater: "One here will constant be,

 Come wind, come weather…"

::Another tap of the mug. Steady tempo.::

Woolheater: "There’s no discouragement

 Shall make them once relent,

 Their first avowed intent

 To be a Marine."

::He let the last word sit a second, then gave Ragh the smallest nod. Together.::

Ragh was unfamiliar with this song but he could feel the message strongly. It was subtle for a warrior’s song, true, but the meaning was the same. He joined in, quickly catching on to the tune.

Ragh: "Whoso beset him round

with dismal stories,

do but themselves confound;

his strength the more is.

No lion can him fright,

he’ll with a giant fight,

but he will have a right

to be a Klingon."

The rest of the night continued, more or less, uneventfully. That night, Ragh drifted off to sleep, with dreams of glorious battles with unnamed henchman and a song in his heart.

                       The End

End Part 2 of 2 

An old fashioned Joint Post by:

= = = = 

Ensign Ragh

Medical Officer 

USS Octavia E. Butler 

O240212R13

&

---------------

1stLt Samuel Woolheater

Scout Sniper / Infantry Officer

MARDET, Starfleet Marine Corps

USS Octavia E. Butler NCC-82850

O240111SW4