Quark Returns (and he's not happy about it) [OTA]

[norefunds]

The only appropriate response to finding oneself's back on this dreary Federation ship at the whim of a capricious omniscient was locating something with a high alcohol or other mind altering component and making sure it hit his system as quickly as possible.

Thus, Quark was at a bar. Not his bar- which he was currently trying not to think about. Being a patron of what he, perhaps irrationally, thought of as competition irked him, but at this juncture it was pretty much unavoidable.

Oh, and Klingons were probably attacking. It just had to be Klingons, because apparently the universe hated him today. Hopefully they wouldn't storm the bar. Or destroy the ship.

"One more of this one. Or the other one- with the green- Just give me both."

Comments

[just_dewitt]

Booker just wanted a drink. Sometimes that went well, sometimes not. It was hard to tell which way it would go on the Enterprise. What with weird incidents, strange adventures, and his family being around, he just had some very odd days.

Like today. Here he was, sitting in Ten Forward, minding his own business, and he was hearing odd things, but not really listening to them. No, he hadn't learned the Klingons were invading yet. He was just trying to have a moment of peace and quiet.

When he spotted the large-eared being, he blinked, then grinned. What would this universe come up with next. His beer sat nearby, and he strummed the guitar he was holding softly, gentle chords falling from his fingertips. He nodded to the alien as he ordered his own refill drink.

"Fun day, eh?"

[norefunds]

Quark turned his head at the sound, gaze falling on the man sitting nearby holding an instrument. What a bizarre looking device- it reminded him somewhat of Bajor's stringed instruments they used in religious ceremony. Yet somehow this was even more primitive in appearance.

Still, he had to admit it made an interesting combination of vibrations. The sound seemed almost familiar...

"Oh, absolutely. Forced vacations on Federation ships are my favorite. Especially when I'm supposedly about to be attacked by Klingons," the Ferengi groused, throwing back another swallow of his drink.

[just_dewitt]

Booker offered a grin, and downed more of his drink, before letting his fingers play over the strings, playing a bit of quiet jazz, low and simple. He hadn't known what i was when he first started playing it, but his time in Neptune had changed that.

"You're another of us displaced folk, then? But one who knows the Federation?"

He hmmed. "The Klingons are attacking? Now why would they do that?" And wasn't there one who was a part of the crew? Hmmm.

[norefunds]

"Some of us are more displaced than others," Quark responded, still eyeing the instrument. He had a feeling if he had heard it before it was probably something from ancient Earth culture that Sisko had insisted on sharing with the crew.

"Since when does a Klingon need a reason to attack?" the Ferengi snorted, shaking his head. "They're Klingons. All they ever do is fight. Sure, they drink too, but is it ever worth the property damage?"

As he spoke, it was dawning on Quark that there was a high probability this wasn't all a hoax and that he needed to get out here before he received a Bat'leth to the guts.

"Maybe we should finish this discussion somewhere else," he suggested. "Like a ventilation shaft or something."

[just_dewitt]

"Very true. Some from other universes." He chuckled.

"Mostly, they seem very passionate people, if a little... firm in their beliefs." He shook his head. Deadly so.

"Well, this is probably one of the safer places on the ship. I passed some security guards out there. But if this is going on, I should probably head toward home. I could escort you to temporary guest quarters?" Those areas were bound to be guarded too.