Three Starfleet Officers Walk Into a Lonian Bar... (Part 1)

Posted on Thu Jun 25th, 2026 @ 8:20am by Commander Rin & Captain Samuel Woolheater & Lieutenant Damien Blackford & Lonian Royal Sovereignty

Mission: Season 6: Episode 7: Crossroads of Destiny
Location: Niea IV :: Klevor's
Timeline: MD3 evening
1876 words - 3.8 OF Standard Post Measure

The red giant sun was low on the ocean horizon, turning the sky into a brilliant collage of reds and oranges. Just south of Tafavera on the other side of the canyon was its sister peninsula, Laverai. In that town, the night life began to wake up. It was around this time that Klevor's, a known bar and grill in the area, became popular, and the whole building savoured its last minutes of quiet before the rush. In a corner of the room, a live band was setting up their stage, and servers prepared the balcony seating for the night. The balcony overlooked the Sphoralai sea, and below the balcony a fence and proximity sensors were set up by the cliff's edge to catch any drunks before they got too close.

Rin had spent the day sightseeing. The shopping had been...interesting. The cultural museum had been more engaging. She had intended to return to the Elysium, until the smell of cooked food caught her attention.

Now she sat at a table on the balcony watching the sun go down as she sipped something blue from a fluted glass. It had a fruity taste, a fermentation of a native plant. A small bag of purchases sat on the ground next to her feet. She was wrapped up in a maroon and purple shawl, lightweight, but welcome as the air began to chill.

Now she looked over a menu. The descriptions, of course, meant little. Luckily, it also provided pictures of the dishes, but that mostly just communicated visual appeal.

===
Sam Woolheater heard about this place from the banter earlier in the turbolift. Something about the drink didn't "even taste all that boozy". It was a loverly place here on the balcony seating.

The ocean air carried salt, grilled meat, music, and just enough alcohol to convince half the town they were better dancers than they really were. Samuel stepped out onto the balcony a moment later dressed far differently than most people aboard the Elysium were used to seeing him. No armor. No rifle. No tactical harness hanging off his shoulders.

Just loose dark jeans, old comfy boots, and a faded charcoal-gray T-shirt stretched comfortably across a broad chest and thick shoulders. The sleeves sat high enough to expose tattooed arms lightly dusted with blond hair that caught the reddish-gold light from the setting sun.

For once, he looked less like a Marine preparing for violence and more like a large Southern man looking for food and a place to sit down. Which, honestly, was exactly what he was doing. His eyes swept across the balcony until he spotted someone familiar and wrapped in a shawl. The maroon color looked good on her. Commander Rin seated near the railing wrapped in her shawl with the glowing sunset behind her.

He walked aver and nodded with a grin, "Well there y’are." His familiar Georgia drawl arrived a second before the grin did.

Rin looked up at Sam. "Were you looking for me?"

Without waiting for permission, he pulled out a chair and sat down with a tired but grateful exhale. "Whew! My dogs are barking!" The warmth of the evening breeze stirred good feelings in him for the first time in what felt like days, Woolheater actually looked relaxed. Mostly.

"I have no idea what that means, and I fear it's a euphemism," Rin replied, sipping her drink. "How are things with you?"

He smiled and laughed quietly, "It means my feet hurt. I've been walking and getting some outside air for a change."

Rin nodded. "it is nice to not be breathing recycled air. Also, finding a Circinus culture that's isn't out to kill us."

Sam nodded, "Yup. I'm not complaining." He took a breath of air and looked over at Rin. She was wrapped up in a shawl. It wasn't chilly here either. He inclined his head once toward the shawl wrapped around her shoulders.

“That’s a good look on you, Commander. Very mysterious. Like you’re about to rob a merchant ship somewhere.”

He was just teasing her. For a moment he thought she didn't want to be recognized. But of course, none of them, except maybe Teeves would be.

"I got tired of the stares," Rin explained. She lifted up her left arm from where it had been hiding under the shawl, indicating its multiple implants. "This sector of space is fairly hostile to obvious cybernetics. I got plenty of stares back home, but that was largely because of what they represented. People here have no idea what they mean. And, I suppose, not having to deal with it for the several months made me forget how obnoxious it is."

Samuel nodded and continued to simply listen.

"Of course, there's nothing to be done about the most obvious implant," Rin continued, pointing at her eye piece before tucking her arm back under the shawl. Completely deadpan, she added, "I considered an eye patch, but Lonians have no respectable pirate hats to go with it."

Sam barked out a warm laugh and leaned back in his chair.

“Commander, if you show up tomorrow wearin’ an eye patch and a pirate hat, half this crew’ll follow you into battle without asking a single question.”

He smiled broadly, the corners of his mouth up in a happy grin, and he eyes alive with the very thought of Rin in a pirate like outfit. He laughed and it felt good to him.

Damien strolled along street, sleeves of his Hawaiian print shirt rolled back, looking around at the various shops and restaurants as he did. Having spent most of the morning with Varinty on the beach, and having somehow convinced her to join him the following morning on a hike, he'd decided to sample some of the Lonian delicacies, and Teevs had recommended a particular place and, seeing as he knew nothing about the planet, decided it was safer to follow the locals advice.

As he stepped into the place, inhaling the smell of the cooking food, his eyes scanned the room, and soon landed on the familar figures of Commander Rin, and Captain Woolheater. Walking over to the pair of them, he offered them both a warming smile. "Good evening." He said, tone light and pleasant. "Fancy bumping into you two here. Do you mind if I join you?" He asked, gesturing to an empty chair.

Sam looked up and grinned. It wasn't everyday that you see a dedicate security officer like Damien sporting a loud Hawaiian style shirt with rolled sleeves. Sam had rarely seen the el tee in a shoreleave setting. He moved the third chair with his foot to invite him to sit.

“Lieutenant Blackford. Pull up a chair before somebody else steals it.”

He leaned back slightly and nodded toward the ocean beyond the balcony.

“Apparently this’s the place everybody comes to pretend we ain’t stranded in another galaxy.”

"Yes, we have all been rather ignoring that fact of late," Rin said, finishing her drink. "Resignation? Complacency? Not quite sure, but I have no intention of spending the rest of my life in Circinus."

By happenstance, a Lonian woman strode over, the bar's branding plastered across her shirt in big letters. Her curly hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she gave them a warm smile. "How are you fine folks doing this evening? I'm Darei, I'll be serving you tonight." She set a couple datapads on the table, one with a list of drinks and one of food items. "You can send your orders to the kitchen using the datapads and I'll bring them to the table. Do you have any questions for me?"

"Not familiar with the local fare," Rin said. "Do you have something spicy you recommend? Also, another one of these, please" she added, tapping her empty glass.

Sam indicated to the same drink, "I'll take one of those too." He spoke to the server, "Can you recommend some good food for us to share? I'd like to try a little bit of...well...a lot. Finger foods, you know?"

Darei began to smile and nod to the drinks, then paused at what Sam had said. Her confusion shifted into uncertain discomfort. "We... um... we don't serve fingers here," she replied awkwardly.

The pause probably stretched out far longer in Rin's head than it did in real life, her reaction being half embarrassment and half amusement as she debated the mot diplomatic way of addressing the miscommunication.

"Food that you pick up with your fingers," she said, miming picking up a piece of food and moving it her mouth. She looked at nearby tables for examples but found nothing. Everyone eating was using at least a folk-like utensil to stab bite sized food.

She looked back her companions. "Oh dear. I think we've just painted ours..." she paused, reconsidering her words with a culture that takes everything literally. "I think we've just made ourselves look like barbarians."

She looked back at Darei. "Do you have any sampler-type items? Something with a variety of foods to try and share between us three?" She failed to swallow a laugh at the entire situation. "I promise we'll eat them like normal people. Although you may have to point out the correct utensils."

Thankful for the clarification, Darei's confusion-with-a-dash-of-horror turned into relief. She put a hand on her chest and laughed to shake off the tension. "Oh! You had me worried for a moment! Yes, samplers, we have options!" She pulled another datapad out of the pocket of her apron and pointed out some items, amongst them something that looked like kelp chips, a mixed seafood platter, feela wings with several sauce options. "If it's to share, I recommend these. You can get the feela wings spicy, and you can get a side of our house special sauce with just about anything. Though I have to warn you that the house special burns for a while."

"That sounds lovely," Rin said. "Spicy would be great, and.." she tapped her empty glass. "I think I need something stronger than whatever this is."

Damien picked up the menu datapad, perusing it briefly. He only knew of a couple of Lonian dishes from his conversations with Teevs, so he was looking forward to sampling more of their delicacies. "I'll have the same." He said, glancing up at the waitress, indicating Rin's empty glass, before looking back down at the menu. He looked up at the waitress at Sam's words, masking his laugh with what he hoped was a passable cough. "That all sounds lovely." He said, trying, and failing, to suppress the grin creeping across his face, glancing at the other two out of the corner of his eye.

Sam looked mildly horrified at himself for about half a second before he broke into another low laugh. “Well hell,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “That sounded a whole lot less cannibalistic in my head.” The warmth in his voice carried easy embarrassment rather than defensiveness. He leaned back in the chair and glanced between Rin and Damien.

“Good save, Commander. Appreciate you keeping us from becoming an interstellar incident.”

(To be continued in part 2)