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Matthew walks into the bar for the last time and takes a good long look around. Foreign as the ex-Skaraan station is, he appreciates both its aesthetics and the exotic drinks available. He moves over to the bar and orders one of the really odd-tasting but quite delicious drinks.
Nhaima half-jogged her way back to the bar. Quick as she was at working her way into her flight suit, she was more reluctant at peeling it away. The pressure seals were all undone and the fastenings at the front hung half-opened, but she cheerily made her way into the bar none the less with a grin on her face. At the sight of all the strange drinks, it slackened slightly with thought before she finally asked for whatever was closest to whiskey and nodded towards the prior occupant.
“Long day?” she asked, grinning at him while rolling her head to cause a peal of cracks from her neck to pop softly beneath the rustling of the flight suit.
“Wait…. are you actually going to miss this place?”
Matsiyan strides in purposefully, jacket unfastened. He walks around into the wide space behind the bar, more of an island really. Skaraans need a lot of space to turn around. He starts rummaging through the supplies, sniffing, scanning, translating labels on his datapad.
We looked at some of this stuff when we arrived, but we never looked in detail because we were busy.
He turns thoughtfully and yanks open the heavy door to the supply room and the rear access to the replicator units.
Aha! This will ensure sweet sleep: Torgoth Gukhna.
He pulls out a shallow indented tray with a dozen taught, fist-sized spheres of a shiny, purplish material. Sliding it onto the bar, he lifts one, bites into it and, clamping his lips around the incision, sucks hard. He holds his breath a moment and then exhales brightly, before starting to chew the shell.
When they are baked they create a bubble of almost pure oxygen in the middle. Very refreshing. Smells like fennel. The crust though, tastes like tandoori pizza.
What a waste. So little time to explore the whole station. The chief had to concentrate on the denabite refining equipment and then the Slingshot systems.
I hate tandoori pizza declares Mundy as she walks in. She looks at Matsiyan. Yes, I heard that. Tandoori is Tandoori, and pizza is pizza, and never the twain shall meet.
She looks over the drinks and food supplies, and asks, I don’t suppose there were any Skaraans who had the uncharacteristic good taste of hoarding Hjocoa? She sighs. The Hjorden are having trouble with their replicators, and they’re running low on some essential nutrients, so they’ve restricted supplies of Hjocoa and Hjorden ale to Hjorden personnel only. She sighs again.Totally understandable, and entirely within their rights to do so, but dammit…
“One gin tonic,” says Raiden as he enters the bar, wearily.
*Beeb bop* disagrees the replicator with the request.
Raiden raises his eyebrow. It seems that every sentient race in the known universe at certain point in their evolution discovers some form of intoxication. And for all of these races, there is one drink in common that every one of them mastered. Gin and tonic is a sure bet when someone encounters a new space-faring civilisation be it in the core regions or at the very end of the Great Galactic Arm rim worlds. It can be said that even water is more scarcely drank than gin and tonic, on a galactic scale.
How the bloody Skaarans pronounce it… gee-N’N-T’N-ix
*Beeb bop*jinond-o-nicks *Beeb bop*
*Raiden sighs and closes his eyes.jynnan tonyx Bub beeb bub
Finally.
Raiden takes his drink, walks across the bar to the farthest corner. Jokingly salutes at
Matsiyan, nods at Vaj, his new direct officers on aboard the Viper that he got successfuly transferred to. Ignores both females chatting away heartily at their table, never brave enough to talk to women unless circumstances allowed it. Sits down with his back to the crowd and pulls up his datablet. Time to study the stellar cartography of this region and some new combat maneuvers.To Nhaima:
Miss might be too strong a word. But I’m glad we stayed here for awhile. My understanding and appreciation of Skaraan culture has certainly improved. And I must say, their beds, though large, are quite well padded. I haven’t slept this well since we left for this assignment.
Well, Matthew, Matsiyan drags his tray closer and draws a tall glass of cloudy green liquid.
When you are as big as a Skaraan, you need a lot of padding.
I’m very glad we are going home. At the same time, I’m sad to be returning from a voyage into unknown space and contact with two new species, with so little to show for it. We have a lot of new Stellar Cartography. I’m not going to soon forget the three singularities and the nebulae around the gate arriving into Eyukua. But it is a disappointment that we cannot establish relations with the the Rumarians or the Ulikai. Hopefully though, we can bring back a whole new side of the N’tani that we can explore in the future.
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