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Subsequent Conditions, Incident 1: Birds of a Feather

Posted on Mon Sep 12th, 2011 @ 6:50pm by Lieutenant Commander Nauket Kulvher

Mission: All Souls Descend. Season 2, Episode 6
Location: Via di Stelle, San Fransisco
Timeline: 4 months ago

Via di Stelle, San Fransisco - Earth
4 months ago

The crash of the serving tray practically echoed to the hard, deep red floor. Blue liquid pooled like blood along the tiles, remnants of a hardly enjoyed martini. The dim lights became brighter, but only for a moment as it cycled through a myriad of enticing colors. A rather timid looking Ferengi backed up from the circular table, just as the black bar stool tumbled to the ground, following the tray. His expression was something only seen by the more dull and less able Ferengi men, which explained why he was serving and not running the club and with his hands tightly clasped together in front of him, he smiled nervously.

"Drinking our drinks, eating our food, pretending to be one of us," the man in tight fitting civilian clothing nagged angrily, his stare a cold and piercing one. Merely two feet away at the bar, Nauket leaned, short, wide glass centimeters from her lips.

She looked onward to the bartender, a busty Orion woman, her long dark locks framing her like a painting. Unimpressed, the Cardassian sipped the whiskey generously, twirling it slightly as it departed, ice clanking against the glass. Nauket, her black muscle shirt keeping her build rather exposed, yet hidden by the general dimness of the club, ignored the little outburst by the man. Her drink was cool enough to keep her calm. It was something she had practiced over the last year and a half.

"Next thing you know they're in our fleet, commanding our ships," a calm voice added sarcastically, a second man sitting coolly at the table still. He drank his beer with as much ease as the Cardassian did, his expression more severe still.

Nauket scoffed quietly, taking the slightest glance behind her, off to her right. Their facade of ignorance to the red armband tied at her right arm almost amused her. Starfleet insignia proudly displayed for all to see. She did nothing more than turn back, tapping her left black high heeled boots against the ground, a hint of annoyance surging through her. It wasn't like it was the first time she had ever heard their oh so original insults.

"Why don't you give me another," she said politely to the woman, who looked awkwardly between the two men and her current patron.

"Of course," she replied, taking the glass as it was passed off to her.

Cranking her neck slightly, Nautet pushed back the falling strands of hair that normally framed her face. Under pressure, she had the habit of getting it out of her way, something she was accustomed to since growing up on Cardassia Prime. Evidently the action was hardly comforting to the annoying mosquitoes behind her. Hurriedly the Ferengi finally jumped forward, collecting the unbroken martini glass and tray as the tension thickened.

From across the dance floor, Flag, who's name was actually given to him by his staff for his uncanny ability to keep up with the ongoings of his club, Via di Stelle, as it was bustling with energy, casually walked over to the DJ, whispering something loudly in his ear. Nodding, the DJ bounced slightly to the music, twisting a knob that loudened the music slightly, making regular conversation even more of a hindrance to hear.

Without so much as a care, the dark hared human stepped through the blue martini's remnants, causing Kog, the nervous servant to back up slightly in his crouched position, leaving the rag beside him. At the same time the second glass of whiskey was served up to Nauket. She was aware of the movement, and barely made a move. Instead, she simply tasted her drink casually.

"Perhaps it's time for you to move on," he suggested, his partner in crime unamused and placing his drink back to the table. The two who looked remarkable similar, save the shade of their hair, were regulars as much as Nauket was in the last year, and thought they had seen the woman countless times, it seemed today was their day to shine. He pushed back the stool slightly with his legs, coming around the table and crossing his arms.

"Perhaps it's time to you to shut up," Nauket retorted.

"What's that," the first man mocked, hearing her words just slightly over the music, "did you just threaten me?"

A second scoff, and Nauket was grinning at the nervous bartender. At the same time, a hand reached out from beside her, attempting to grab the glass from her own. The act boiled her blood like fire and instead of allowing him to do his desired insult, she pulled it out from his grip, smashing it on the table in to shards. In one swift motion she twisted his arm with one hand and grabbed his neck with the other, smashing him too against the bar counter. Her grip was fierce, and eyes wide. Few onlookers halted their motions, conversations, and actions as the staff held their places.

"I do not make threats," she said loudly, "if I wanted you dead I would snap your neck where you stood before you ever took another breath!"

Immediately his brother came to aid. Her reaction was immediate, a turn of her body and her fist collided with his face, knocking him to the ground. Before the release allowed her first captive to recover, she was back on him, rage showing its beauty in her expression.

Flag's mouth gaped slightly on the raised stage, his attempt at filtering out their conversation evidently spoiled. Out of respect, Nauket let the man go, and looked to the Orion girl. "Charge me for the glass," she said, grabbing an ice cube as she stormed away, knocking shoulders with two onlookers. More dancers stopped to get a look at the incident, catching only a glimpse of the slender Cardassian body, the clicking of her heels drowned by the thundering bass.

Nodding once out of respect, a security guard bid her farewell as he made his way towards the two men, his ear piece immediately catching Flag's order to remove them. Nauket hardly noticed the rare attention to her lack of fault in the matter. Her emotions ran thick, even as she emerged to the busy street, line of dressed up people waiting to get in to where she just came from.

Without looking at them, she felt few piercing eyes. It wasn't rare that incident followed her, but still more uncommon than the simple stares she got. It was almost more annoying that people had nothing to say and just... stared. In an attempt to ignore the thoughts, she reached behind her back, pulling out a small padd from her back left back pocket. Passing them all, she brought up her schedule and looked over the week.

"In an event that the fleet is calling an act of pure racism, Admiral Stark delivered a public announcement today on the death of Ensign Tulvar. His body still under tight security as investigations continue in to the third day.

The bright display screen above a busy cafe caught the Cardassian's attention. Her nerves had calmed as she halted in her march. She looked up, watching the woman's face fade away and images recorded three days ago replayed.

"In his statement, the Admiral severely warned of backlash from the Cardassian Embassy, stating that all acts of violence against the Cardassian population on Earth as well as the entire Federation was intolerable, and severe punishment would be followed for anyone documented in such acts." The image of a covered body being carted away flared disheartening within her. "Investigators have not yet stated on the investigation itself, but the Admiral disclosed his disapproval for surfacing movements against the allowance of Cardassian citizens in to Starfleet. This comes only a short time after the protest against the recent law providing Cardassian citizenship under the same rules and accordance as other races. Only months ago did the fleet issue red arm bands to its Cardassian officers, in hopes of keeping them out of harms way, marking them with the fleet insignia to indicate their service and dedication to the fleet."

The padd in her hand began to buzz slightly, catching her attention swiftly. Incoming Transmission from Admiral Stark. The irony of the transmission was marked by the Admirals own words on the display screen.

"Hate crimes are not tolerable and have not been tolerable on this planet and federation for centuries. We must not reverse our progression as a civilization, nor undo the good we have done. Faced with the challenges of looking past what we..."

Commander Nauket Kulvher
Intelligence Division, Starfleet


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