Shore Leave - An Internal Affair
Location: USS Asger
It wasn't a common theme in Hare-Jeycid's life: kindness. Starfleet eyes looked upon Orions as potential security issues, much like they did the Ferengi or Nausicaans. They were welcome, but it was always with a notion of, we are watching you. And for all of Bryah and Kione's love and charity, they too had a wariness: What's he going to get into now? They were kind, Hare admitted. But the quadrant as a whole? That was another matter.
Certain Orionisms didn't exactly endear their species to the quadrant either- Orionisms that Hare-Jeycid still saw some value in. They weren't brutish like Nausicaans or alternately obsequious and venal like Ferengi. But the smart person never trusted an Orion, or took them at face value. Cluros was a mask to obscure intent as much as it was a social contract to reign in the worst impulses of the Orion race. At least one knew what to expect with a Ferengi or a Nausicaan.
In an inverse way, Hare had encountered something he'd never seen before. He'd seen few of them anyway: but a nice Klingon? Klingons were loud... they were violent... they liked to stab things with their bladed weapons. They had values of honor and face that could mean everything one moment and absolutely nothing the next. And generally, they were quite truthful.
So Hare-Jeycid had been going over his first encounter with this Drall for a day and a half now. A nice Klingon who had, at least for a few seconds, seemed almost kind? Albeit in the robust Klingon way but... it threw Hare more than he wanted to admit.
With hands in the rear pockets of his pants, the Orion sauntered the halls of the hibernating Asger. He's met almost no one else of the crew, except an interesting engineer who, when he went back to say hello, he had been told she was on shoreleave. There was the hologram and his Seed of friends and their islands. The only other he'd met was the Andorian, Ren, who he seemed to set on edge almost every time. So in some of the isolation he felt, Hare had decided to seek out the other stranger.
Hare came up to the doors of the quarters of the Klingon's surrogate here. He tapped the comm panel and waited, sidling his hand back into his back pocket. He shifted his weight to his back foot and rolled his shoulders to pronounce his chest in typical Orion style. And he waited.
After a moment of waiting, the door slid open and standing there was a tall, very fit Risan man wearing next to nothing. He saw the Orion boy and a big smile crossed his face. Without saying anything, he motioned him to enter with a nod, and turned back into the quarters. "Drall, that Orion boy is here to see you."
Hare followed the man's pull back, his brown eyed gaze on the Risan symbology on his forehead. Big to come in, Hare did so. The doors hissed shut behind him and he couldn't help but scope the decor of the room. He was tempted to ask the man's name at least. He studied the back of the man who'd called for the Klingon. Hare hadn't expected that- a Risan keeper to a Klingon?
A moment later Drall entered the room. He was wearing slightly form fitting silk pajamas. As soon as he saw Hare, we smirked. "Welcome to my home, I see you met Josan." he motioned to the man, who nodded at him and went into his bedroom leaving the boys alone.
"What brings you here at this hour?" He said as he sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to him.
"Joson," he had a name for a face now. Hare's eyebrows popped in a betrayal of surprise that the Klingon his age lived in such un-Klingon surroundings. Somewhere in his mind, he'd expected to be sitting on a metal shelf. He was pleased to not be. Hare sat where he was invited, smoothing his hands down the lengths of his thighs while he took in the question. Hare looked up at the Risan then back to Drall. "This ship's a tomb. There's almost nobody on here." He combed his curly hair behind his lime green ear, "I'm bored. We should do something."
"Try not to stay out too long. Or get into too much trouble." Said a female's voice from the other room. Drall got a bit of a smile on his face. "That's Mercy. She has been pushing me to make more friends. Sometimes I think the idea of friends is a little bit more loose to Risans." He slapped his legs and sighed. "OK, what would you like to do? Shall I change first, or is this good enough?"
"You don't live with any Klingons?" Hare finally had to ask, the tilt of his head showing his surprise. His eyes blinked and Hare sat straight. His eyes surveyed the silk form fitting around the Klingon. "It's fine, I think." he glanced back at the door, "This ship's a tomb anyway. I doubt we'd run into anyone that'd notice even if we did leave."
"No, I do not live with Klingons. Part of the cultural exchange program is I am to live with a Federation family. Absorb the culture and learn how we can adapt." He leaned down and whispered in Hare's ear. "Frankly, I'm glad. The Risans have a much better sense between pain and pleasure." He smirked and stood back up.
Hare was no such program. His eyebrows popped, his eyes down in a sort of shrug of understanding. The Klingon drew close and whispered, an action that tingled at Hare's spine. Klingon had such an interesting smell. It reminded him of the peaty scent in the greenhouse. Hare felt his mouth tilt in a smirk as well when Drall pulled away. "That's Jamaharon for you," the Orion quipped back.
Drall nodded and gestured over to the horga'hn. I have learned all about it. But before you get the wrong impression, I have not participated with Joson and Mercy. They took me in and consider me part of the family. An adopted child. They would not do that, but they have encouraged me to... Explore my Jamaharon."
Still standing, "I think, with all this talk of rites and rituals. We should go to the holodeck and partake in an old earthen ritual I have been researching. I believe it's called 'Cruising'."
The olivine one raised a raven eyebrow out of curiosity, "What is... cruising?" He asked. The Orion stood slowly up and sidled his hands into his pockets.
Drall got a serious face on, as if he was about to explain the inner workings of a warp drive. As they started to head out the door, "It's when you go to a place called a Disco or a night club. You order a drink, and linger watching people in the room. When you see one you want to get to know better, you walk up and start a conversation. If all goes well..." He leaned in and whispered something into Hare's ear.
The Orion couldn't help but blink, both confused and a little incredulous, "We're going to... c-cruise holograms. For..." He rose his raven eyebrows, "Well, at least there'll be something to do. Something I'm guessing that isn't going to argue." The Orion rose and tugged on his shirt. "Alright, lets give it a try."