Drinks and Consequences

Posted on Tue Jun 23rd, 2020 @ 1:31am by Commander Mindo & Lieutenant John Sandoval & Ensign Emmanuelle Larose & Lieutenant Commander Greep & Lieutenant Zo
Edited on on Fri Jul 10th, 2020 @ 5:24pm

Mission: Death in Paradise
Location: A bar on Paradise Station
Timeline: current

A Mission Post by Lieutenant Mindo & Petty Officer 1st Class Greep & Petty Officer 2nd Class Zo & Lieutenant John Sandoval & Ensign Emmanuelle Larose
Mission: Death in Paradise
Location: A bar on Paradise Station
Timeline: current
Date: Fri Dec 14th, 2018 @ 9:25pm

ON

"Sir, I had no idea that both of these women were your wives." Mindo was beginning to sweat. The large beast of a man who stood before him did not like the image of Mindo holding court with in between the two voluptuous women, who seemed to be enjoying the advances of the micro Engineer.

Zo and Greep sat on the other end of the bar with worried expressions on their faces. Mindo had become very distracted while talking to the owner of the establishment about all the wonders of Federation cooking that was more than just raw potatoes and coffee beans. The owner had mentioned a Fesarian something called "fendarish" but when Mindo sampled it he didn't seem very pleased. Then he'd noticed the two women across the bar who appeared to be dining alone. That was when Zo and Greep lost control of the Chief as he excused himself. All the while being here, Mindo had not had a single drink, and Zo and Greep were unsure of the last time Mindo got some alcohol into his Fesarian system to dull his more carnal urges.

Zo was sharing a few potato recipes to the owner on his PADD, showing the different ways potatoes could be used. It was apparent to them that while the chefs on the station knew what potatoes were, they had no clue what to do with them. Greep had been watching the incident with Mindo unfold.

Zo pointed to his PADD. "And potatoes can even be used to make alcohol. It's called vodka, and..."

Greep nudged Zo, who looked up and saw the massive alien standing before the Chief, hands clenched, teeth gritted, face turning yellow. Greep wasn't sure what the yellow face meant, but he figured it was similar to the red humans got when very angry.

The alien's voice boomed across the room. "I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS! DRAW YOUR WEAPON!"

"What are we going to do?" whispered Zo.

"I have no idea," Greep replied. The beast of a man drew a blade twice Mindo's size and held it threateningly above his head. Mindo's expression was that of quiet resolve, as if he didn't notice just how worked up this monster was.

John and Emmanuelle had spent the previous two hours looking around in the promenade, their ultimate mission to find Mindo and his team, but taking their time to do so. Seeing that else the station had to offer. They happened to walk by the bar in time to see the diminutive engineer under apparent threat, his two staff staring in concern from the sidelines. The two officers gave each other a side-glance and smirk, and John began to step forward, quietly and smoothly.

He stepped alongside the large alien and gently rested his cane against the blade. It would not offer resistance should the alien decide to swing, but the symbol should be enough.

“My friend,” John began. “Let’s leave the little man alone. That woman there” he pointed to Emmanuelle “has instructions to call station security if that sword comes down. His life isn’t worth going out the airlock.” He motioned with his free hand to the alien’s wives. “And you should be flattered! You have two beautiful wives, so lovely that they drew attention. If I arrived earlier, I’d be right there with him, trying to get into their good graces!”

He gently slapped the big alien’s shoulder. “Come. Let me buy you a drink and take my friend elsewhere.”

The large being stalled for a moment, looking back and forth at John and Mindo. Finally he sheathed his blade. "I never could say no to a free drink," he bellowed. "Barkeep! A full bottle of Raktajan for me and my wives!"

The barkeep's eyes widened. "A whole bottle?!"

"Yes," said the large man. "And charge it to this man here."

At this point, Mindo had quietly slid off the seat in between the two wives and removed himself from the situation.

As the large alien swiped the bottle and began to drink, he barkeep turned to John and said, "That will be three hundred credits."

John saw Mindo slip away and quickly caught Emmanuelle’s eye. As if by instinct, she understood precisely what John wanted. She quietly moved to intercept the Fesarian and grabbed him by the arm as he tried to extricate himself from the situation.

John turned backed to the barkeep “Of course,” he said. “We’re new to Paradise, and haven’t converted our money yet.” He sat down on a bar stool, sighing in relief as he got off his leg, and rested his synth-ivory-headed cane against the bar.

“Now, I overheard that Starfleet is giving you recipes and data on countless new food and drink. There’s a special one from my homeland: sugar concentrated into the sweetest syrup imaginable and lightly flavoured from the wood of the Maple tree. My engineer friend” he pointed to Mindo and Emmanuelle “will give you the details, recipes that use it, and you’ll remember that security didn’t shut you down to investigate the murder I just prevented.” John smiled widely and hoped he didn’t go too far.

The bartender turned his head and glanced at Zo and Greep.

Zo cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah, we already gave him our ship's complete recipe list. His console is downloading everything as we speak."

The barkeep looked back at John. "I need three hundred credits, sir. The bottle has been opened and a good amount has been consumed. I cannot put it back on the shelf."

"Here," squawked Greep, holding out a card. "This card is programmed to convert our credits to yours. It should pay the tab."

The barkeep took the card and scanned it. He seemed satisfied with the result and handed the card back to Greep.

Zo was astonished. "You just have three hundred credits to spare?" said Zo.

"Yep," said Greep.

The barkeep grunted. "Now get out of my bar, before I ban you forever!"

“Let’s go, gentlemen,” John said. He picked up his cane, slid off the chair, and walked out of the bar. He caught up with Mindo and Emmanuelle at the exit into the atrium.

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” John said to his colleague. “John Sandoval.” He stuck his hand out.

Mindo shook his hand. "I'm Lieutenant Mindo. This is Greep, and he's Zo." Greep and Zo gave a small wave.

“So the way I see it,” John said, “my team saved your ass from the giant jealous husband, and your team saved mine from the bartender. That means we start this friendship off evenly, right?”

"No," said Mindo. "It just means I don't owe you anything, Mr. Sandoval."

“Fair enough,” John said, his body language tightening a bit. He didn’t anticipate an unfriendly response to his gesture. “This is Emmanuelle Larose, my security attaché.”

Emmanuelle nodded at the three engineers. “And to answer your next question, Monsier Mindo,” she said, looking the chief engineer directly in the eye, big smile on her face, “absolument non.”

Mindo furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at Greep.

"She said no," the Ontarion translated.

“The lady’s good at reading people,” John said with a smile. He turned to Zo and Greep. “Thanks for the credits, gentlemen. Can I ask you how I get access to acceptable currency? I was shopping with Aeryn and saw something I want to buy.”

Greep squawked, "There are people here who will accept Starfleet credits in exchange for the proper currency here. Some traders here have done business with races like the Cardassians, Ferengi, and other people who use credits as currency. Finding one of them would be a good idea."

"Be careful, though," said Zo. "They're very... cautious people."

“Thanks,” said John. “I think it’s great that you guys were sharing Federation food and recipes with these people. Food and drink are among the most important parts of our culture, wouldn’t you say?” He directed his question at Zo and Greep, whom he actually knew were working while their boss flirted.

"We're providing more than that," Mindo chimed in. "We've also traded things like literature, music, and art from the entire Federation. There are a lot of people here interested in different cultures, and almost all of them have never heard of the Federation."

"And we've also gotten a few things from other races we aren't as familiar with," squawked Greep.

Zo nodded. "Mindo has a way of... 'consorting' with the locals. Many of them are familiar with Fesarians."

"We're actually a popular bunch out here," said Mindo. "There was this one guy..." Mindo suddenly cut off from his sentence and seemed to be staring at something, or someone, beyond John and Emmanuelle.

"Would you excuse me?" said Mindo, brushing past his two new acquaintances. "Hey!" he called, turning into a light jog.

The person he was after stopped and turned. He was almost four feet tall and carried a messenger bag tightly to his side, as if guarding it. He wore a ruffled brown coat with a blue top and brown pants. He had dark black hair that was cut very short on the sides but a little longer on top. His skin was the color of caramel, and his eyes were a bright green. It was another Fesarian!

"Well what do you know," said Zo as the four fellow officers turned to see what was going on.

John watched the interaction for a moment, deciding what to do next. “Well,” he said, “Mindo is the first Fesarian I’ve ever met. Might be interesting to meet another. Shall we?” He moved through the crowd, Emmanuelle a step behind, towards the two men.

Zo and Greep followed.

“Sorry to interrupt your conversation,” said John. “John Sandoval, Chief Diplomatic Officer.” He shifted his cane from his right hand to his left and offered the right hand to the stranger.

The new Fesarian shook his hand. "Terrekal," he said in a somewhat lower voice than Mindo's. "You all wear similar clothes. Are you all from the same ship?"

“We are,” John said. “USS Pandora. An exploration ship here on a humanitarian mission. Just this morning we made sure that refugees on Irokar have access to better medicine.” He looked off into the distance. “Good work for the benefit of sentients everywhere.”

Emmanuelle shot John a look. She had heard him speak in lofty political language before, and she studied famous speeches by Federation diplomats ahead of her assignment. In the context of negotiations this all made sense. But why was her charge (how she often thought of John) speaking like this now? Was he grandstanding? Or is this just how he is?

Terrekal nodded slowly. "That's very... interesting. My people are in the business of making beverages. Tell me Mr. John Sandoval, have you ever tried tranya?"

Mindo's eyes lit up and he was eager to hear Sandoval's response.

“Tranya?” John said. “I’ve heard of it. Can’t say I’ve tasted it. Is it any good?” His tone changed. Always-on diplomat would annoy this man. But he was legitimately curious about this drink.

"It's the best drink you'll ever have!" exclaimed Terrekal. Mindo nodded.

"It comes from the fruit of the tranya bush, native to Fesaria," said Mindo. "I keep a stash in my quarters, however," he turned to Terrekal, "I'm running a little low."

Terrekal shrugged. "I distribute the stuff. I could give you a few cases for a reduced price."

"Sure," said Mindo. He turned back to John. "What about you?"

"Well," John said, "I'm not a bartender. But I have been thinking about diversifying the range of drinks I keep for toasting. I'd consider buying a case. But what does it taste like?"

John motioned to a small sitting area off to the side, where they could sit and discuss tranya without further interruption. John hoped he could try a sip. Mindo spoke very highly of it, but a delicacy to one species or culture could taste vile to another. Worth having a sip before investing in case.

"It's a lot like Earth fruit punch, with a hint of grape," said Mindo as they sat down in the seats across from the bar (and out of any more danger). "At least," he continued, "grape is the closest I can come to an Earth comparison."

"I find the taste tart, but smooth," said Zo. "It's very easy to drink, but it's also extremely potent, so a little at a time is best for us outsiders."

"I've tried to program a good synthohol version of it, but can't get the aftertaste down right," said Mindo.

Terrekal took interest of this. "A synthohol version?" he said. "I'd be interested in trying it. Maybe I could help figure it out."

"That would be great!" said Mindo

Terrekal turned back to John and asked, "I'd also be interested in trying some of your Earth drinks. What would you recommend?"

“Good question,” answered John. “Depends on the mood and occasion, of course. The part of Earth I’m from is very close to vineyards where they make delicious wine. The specialty of that region is called Icewine, where the grapes used to make it are fully frozen before harvest. It’s incredibly sweet, best for dessert. I myself enjoy spiced rum from the island of Jamaica. Or beer from Germany, made under regulations made law almost 900 years ago.” He leaned back in his seat. “Come back to he ship with us, and I’m sure we can offer you a few samples.” He turned to Mindo. “I’ve not visited your arcade yet. Can you get drinks there?”

Mindo grinned and nodded. "The best cocktails and the best bar food on the entire Pandora!"

Terrekal clapped his hands. "This sounds great!" he exclaimed. "I'd love to see your ship! And it would be great to get to know you better!" He looked at Mindo, whose grin widened even more.

John signaled for Emmanuelle to come closer. "Ensign, call security back on Pandora. Tell them we're bringing aboard a guest, and that we'll need an extra security officer for escort." He turned to the two Fesarians. "Just a precaution. I hope you understand. Mindo and I can give you the tour, ending with the arcade for some drinks?"

Mindo coughed. "Er, actually I need to stay here for a little while longer. I'll catch up to you guys later. Is that OK?"

"Not a problem," John answered, while Emmanuelle took a step aside and spoke to ship security. "This is part of my job, after all. I'll provide a tour and you can catch up to us in the arcade?"

"Sounds good to me," said Mindo, getting nods from his subordinates.

With that, John and Terrekal, with Emmanuelle close behind, walked back towards the airlock where Pandora was docked. When he first arrived on Paradise Station, he hadn't anticipate the day would end with him bringing a Fesarian beverage distributor back to the ship for a tour. But one never knew where a career in Starfleet would lead.

OFF