((Starbase 118 - Janul’s Quarters))
If there was one thing that made Janul’s blood boil, it was preying upon the weak. Especially slavers. It was an attitude that had seen him posted away to Starbase 118 to get rid of him.
Zohan? That was not a name she was familiar with. She made a note to to look that name up later.
DeVeau: The different eyes?
He thought for a moment. It was the officer he had scraped out of a monsters slime trail aboard a cruise liner some time back.
Janul: One green, one blue.
DeVeau: I see. That sounds like something important to you.
Janul: To spend any amount of time in a Syndicate mine and emerge alive is worthy of respect. He has also hunted with my kin on Tumar.
He put his glass down heavily, lacing massive fingers into each other. A low growl rumbled forth as he leaned forwards. Alora simply watched him over the rim of her own mug, taking another long but slow sip of the bloodwine.
Janul: So tell me, commander. Apart from discussing my respect for your fellow crew. ::He narrowed his eyes.:: I shall ask you again. What do you want?
DeVeau: Three reasons.
Janul: ::He huffed loudly, grabbing his glass once more.:: Three reasons?
DeVeau: First, it seems to me rather unfair that you’re stuck in what’s basically a prison, no matter how nice it is, for your actions. Maybe it’s just me. Anyway, I thought it might be a nice change of pace to have a visitor.
Janul: These are my quarters. And I am free to have visitors. ::He growled slightly.:: And frequently do.
Alora chuckled, her eyes twinkling, but she moved on.
DeVeau: Second, I always enjoy the chance to practise my Klingon with a native speaker - especially someone I haven’t had the opportunity to make an acquaintance with.
Janul rumbled something in his native tongue before continuing.
Janul: That is only two reasons. Continue.
DeVeau: Third, the Captain has been promoted to Commodore, and for some strange reason, I felt like I should come tell you this. Probably spurred by the fact that he seems to be a regular visitor here. And maybe you could give me a recommendation for a good bottle of bloodwine for him.
That last one was what she couldn’t explain. Alora had perused the files, looked over the previous missions to acquaint herself with what the people on the Starbase had been through. The cult had been rather prevalent over the last year. Yet, for some reason, Janul’s name stuck out - maybe, like she said, because of Sal’s...the Captain’s...the Commodore’s visits. Over time, Alora had recognised that sometimes she just had gut feelings. They rarely, if ever, made any sort of rhyme or reason, but usually she listened to them. This was one of those times. It didn’t make sense, not by any stretch of the imagination, but there she was, sitting across from a giant of a Klingon, sipping bloodwine, and talking about the Captain.
Janul raised an eyebrow. Recommend a good bloodwine? He thought briefly, before jabbing a massive finger towards his visitor.
Janul: 2380. Good luck getting a bottle.
Alora’s head tilted to the side, her amusement. The glimmer of her eyes reflected in her smile that, though it had faded to something more casual, still remained, a natural state upon her pleasant expression.
DeVeau: Oh? Why is that?
Janul: You would have better luck swimming unharmed through lava.
DeVeau: Perhaps you underestimate me. If there’s a way, I’ll find it.
As an eyebrow arched upward, daring him to challenge her persistence, Alora allowed herself another swallow of the bloodwine, a mere sample of what remained. Slowly surely, it was going down, the speed merely out of caution rather than a distaste. Indeed, it was quite good, but keeping control was more important.
Janul growled to himself before suddenly - and alarmingly quickly - hauling himself from his seat. His boots thundered on the deck as he made his way into his sleeping area. There was some clattering and banging from the room before Janul emerged once more, a blackwood box in his massive hand. He stomped his way over, before holding his hand out. Alora set down the mug before she took the box, holding it carefully between her much smaller hands. Looking down at the box, she then tilted her head up to regard the tower that hovered over her.
DeVeau: What’s this?
Janul: A gift for the Commodore. It is not given lightly.
Both eyebrows darted upward and Alora carefully opened the container. Within, she found a brooch - but not just any brooch. Upon the metal surface was etched a symbol, one that she recognised - of House Kravzo'ch. Janul’s house. Such a gift was not easily earned, particularly by an outsider, and it only solidified that notion that the captain turned commodore was viewed highly by the giant Klingon.
DeVeau: I know he will be greatly honoured.
As she closed the box, those verdant eyes slid up and she inclined her head toward the man.
DeVeau: As for the bloodwine...I have my ways. I thank you for the recommendation.
Janul: 2380. One or two years either side is not fit to wash a targ. But you will not find any.
A glitter returned along with an upturn of her lips, an impish gaze that held secret shenanigans, and who could
fathom what she might have plotting through her mind.
DeVeau: Like I said, I have my ways. I thank you for the excellent bloodwine, as well as your time.
Janul: You are…. ::He paused.:: welcome.
DeVeau: Until we meet again, Janul. Qapla!
Janul: Until then, Commander.
With that, Alora made her way out, the precious cargo clutched carefully in her hands. If she was going to get her hands on that particular bloodwine, she’d have to start searching now. Fortunately, Alora DeVeau was not without her contacts.
The meeting with the Klingon had been very interesting. He seemed a good sort, and he also seemed to know his bloodwine. Right then and there, Alora made the decision to return - and next time, she wouldn’t be empty handed.
As the doors closed again, Janul scowled at the security officers outside his door. Well-armed, they still wouldn’t stand a chance if Janul was of a mind to leave.
Instead, he stomped back to his sofa, thudding down into it and putting his feet on the table again. As he slugged back a gulp of his drink, his turned his gaze towards the kitchen area.
Set within the wall was what his human friend Ta’garth had called a wine rack. Within it were several bottles of bloodwine, all good stuff, but Janul found himself staring at one in particular.
It was a very fine vintage indeed. One that he had been saving for, as the humans put it, “a special occasion”.
The glass thumped down onto the table as he rose once more, and headed towards the wine rack. He yanked the bottle free and glared at the label.
He turned and stomped towards the door, barely pausing as it hissed open and he strode out into the corridor with the looming presence of a battlecruiser at full speed.
The other guard did a double-take, caught off guard as he was.
Sec2: Oi! You can’t leave!
He ignored them, striding up the corridor with the bottle in his hand.
His thunderous voice echoed along the corridor.
Janul: Commander DeVeau! ::He strode up to her, thrusting out the bottle as he came to a halt with two very nervous looking security officers hovering behind him.:: You will be needing this.
Alora leaned over and held up a hand to the security officers. She wasn’t sure if she had any sort of authority, but she was hoping her rank would be useful to at least allow the klingon to finish the conversation. Straightening, she then accepted the bottle of bloodwine. The scientist was not without connections, and she certainly had ways to acquire certain things she desired. That had been proven rather recently.
Tucking the bottle under the harm that held the box, Alora slipped her free hand onto Janul’s elbow, allowing him to escort her back to his quarters to quell the anxiety of the guards, and for her final farewell.
DeVeau: You are indeed an honourable man, Janul. I will be sure that the captain knows where this bottle of bloodwine came from.
And she’d suggest he share it with his Klingon benefactor.
DeVeau: And I thank you for being such a true friend.
Janul: Friends, Commander. ::He thought back to the battle at Vankoth II once again.:: are the family we choose for ourselves.
DeVeau: That they are, Janul. That they are.
With one last smile, Alora turned and made her way back toward the turbolift, leaving the security guards with their willing prisoner.
Lt.Cdr. Arturo Maxwell
Chief Tactical Officer
Starbase 118 Operations
Lt. Cmdr. Alora DeVeau
Chief Science Officer
Starbase 118 Ops