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A fight for lunch

Posted on Mon Mar 11th, 2019 @ 12:17am by Ensign S'hib

Mission: MISSION 0 - History Speaks
Location: DS9 - Quark’s

“You know I never thought id actually sell any of this,” Quark said with a slight hint of relief as he smelled a plate of strange purple leafy vegetables, curled his nose in disgust before placing it down on the counter.

“I'll have to ask if the Elysium could take it off your hands when she docks,” S’hib beamed. Sticking a small metal fork into the strange flesh of the vegetable, slicing into it with a knife and quickly moving it inside his maw. “It's pretty good.” He added while chewing.

“If you say so.” Quark barked back in disgust, curling his face and walking off and leaving S'hib to his lunch.

Even off duty, S'hib was working with two PADD's laid out beside his plate. He was examing the latest security reports of the Elysium, profiling the crew and missing his mouth all at the same time, Cursing under his breath as food fell off his fork and back onto the plate.

"I really must get some drills in before the Elysium arrives," S'hib said to himself as his ears perked and flicked back to the table behind him, and the rather heated exchange going on.

"Liar!" Shouted a rather drunk Klingon as he swept his armoured fist across the table, scattering food and drinks across the bar floor. "You will pay for your deception!" He snarled as he reached over the table and grabbed a Ferengi by the scruff of his ornate clothing.

"The shipment's coming I swear!" Blurted the Ferengi as he was forcefully pulled onto the table and flipped onto his back.

The Klingon simply roared in utter annoyance as he reached behind his back and unsheathed his D'k tahg, eyes bulging with rage as the dagger came swooping down towards the shrieking Ferengi

"That's enough." S'hib snorted as his hand caught the Klingons wrist, stopping the blade just above the petrified Ferengi, Provoking a snapped look of ire from the Klingon.

"You dare deny me the honour of killing this treacherous P'tak" He growled, ripping his arm free from S'hib before throwing the table along with the Ferengi out of his way. "Now you get to die first!" He added before lunging his blade aggressively towards S'hib.

Jumping backwards as his hooves clattered across the floor, S'hib dodged the first few swings, trying to analyse his technique. The inebriated Klingon was fighting with far less grace than his house would have liked, Though he was making up for it with sheer violence.

Swinging the blade indiscriminately as other patrons hurried out of Quarks, S'hib wondered how he was going to explain this whole sorry situation to his captain before they'd even met.

"You break it you pay for it!" Quark shouted from somewhere behind the counter as something smashed to the floor.

"Not helping!" S'hib scowled as he deflected a swing with the back of his left wrist and threw an open palm into the Klingons jaw, knocking him back a few paces.

"Stand down," S'hib warned the Klingon as he moved his body sideways at took up a defensive stance, raising his arms and putting all his weight on his back right leg. "I won't ask you again." He added as he raised his left leg slowly off the floor before the Klingon spat blood on the counter and charged at him, Swinging his blade at the unmoved Sequus.

Within a blink of an eye, S'hib thrust his leg outward into the air,, his hoof connecting with the Klingons hand in a sickening pop of bone that sent the dagger clattering down the bar.

Only then did S'hib notice the uniforms and phasers pointed his direction.

"Get him to the infirmary, and then get him off the station." S'hib sighed, flicking his comm badge out from underneath his belt to prove who he was.

"Is anything broken?" Quark, said as he peaked his head up from the counter.

"My appetite," S'hib said sheepishly as he sat back at the bar, glancing at the Klingon craddling his severly broken hand, Wondering if he had perhaps kicked slightly too hard.


Ensign S'hib


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