DS9 - For DS9 Tumblr Zine, Week 5!
Apr. 13th, 2014 12:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seikilosTitle: Companionship and Klingon Cuisine
Fandom: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Gen
Rating & Warnings: PG (alcohol)
Words: 926
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek: Deep Space Nine.
Summary: A look in on the weekly night out of the dabo spinners of DS9.
Author's Notes: My submission to DS9 Tumblr Zine for the prompt "Close Encounters of the Third Kind"!
It didn't take me as long as I expected to think of what I wanted to do for this week's prompt. For all DS9 has so many amazing secondary characters, this popped into my head right away, possibly because I've been writing about Leeta a fair bit lately. I thought it would be nice to give the dabo spinners (because I absolutely refuse to call them "dabo girls") a chance to interact with each other and be more than eye candy. I figure they would get along pretty great, because there's nothing like a common foe *coughQuarkcough* to bring people together.
"Welcome, welcome!" called out Morgh, chef of the Klingon restaurant. He always had a personal greeting and a toothy smile when Leeta and her friends arrived together, and why not? Not many businesses saw parties of eight turn up every week.
"I have already prepared your place." Morgh gestured at where two tables had been pushed together, chairs lined up just so. "Make yourselves comfortable while I deliver the menus."
"Thanks, Morgh," Pella, known as M'Pella during working hours, said and dropped into the nearest chair with a heavy sigh.
"Yes, thank you!" Leeta added as she took the seat next to her.
It had become an end-of-the-week tradition for the dabo spinners of Quark's, and had been for as long as the Federation had been running DS9. It was good to go out for a meal, a chat, and a rant somewhere they wouldn't have to deal with Quark trying to cheat them out of their money. (It was bad enough he did it during work hours without giving him the chance in their free time.)
With eight of them to get settled, they barely had time to say anything to each other before Morgh returned with four padds to a hand. He took their drink orders, ranging from water (Ralidia) to bloodwine (Pella), and off he went again.
"Oh, gladst is back on the menu," Tellan Sarda remarked. "Too bad Mardah isn't still here—remember how she ordered it every single time for three months?"
There were a few chuckles. That level of devotion was hard to forget.
"Has anyone heard from Mardah lately?" Brin (also known as Etheria) asked.
"I got a message from her earlier," Gillian (or Glidia). They all leaned in; when she wasn't spinning the wheels and calling out "Dabo," she was the most soft-spoken of all of them. "She's just started classes for her second year. She said that she's finding the honours courses a jump up from last year, but she was smiling. I think she's doing all right."
"Good for her!" Leeta said, beaming. She didn't know Mardah all that well—her first year at Quark's had been Mardah's last—but someone who could live through the Occupation and go on to make it into honours classes in a year was worth celebrating.
"Send along our congratulations, will you?" Pella told Gillian. She grinned. "And ask her if she's met anyone nice."
Gillian smiled. "Well . . . she did also mention a cute Vulcan in her class. . . ."
Before they could demand she elaborate, Morgh arrived once again. It was probably the fastest they'd ever whipped off their orders, and after he'd left, they all pressed Gillian for details, then moved on to similarly light topics of conversation once she'd satisfied their curiosity as much as she was able (which wasn't nearly enough).
Things took a turn for the more serious later on, however, when Misteria (Woranal) set aside her utensil, her yellow fingers flattening briefly on the tabletop before announcing, "I was thinking of seeing sometime in the next few days if Garak is hiring."
That stopped the conversation dead. Every one of them turned to stare at her.
"Why?" Pella asked, tension straining the richness of her voice.
Leeta didn't blame her, and she fidgeted with the edge of her napkin. The rare occasions Garak went to Quark's, he was polite and never gave any of them trouble—something every dabo spinner could appreciate. But at the same time . . . this hadn't always been a Federation station.
"Because frankly, my boobs are getting cold," Woranal answered very dryly.
The moment was carried away on a wave of laughter; Midia raised her mug of Chech'tluth in salute.
But when the wave had washed past, Woranal spoke again, more softly. "It's the business with the union. It left a sour taste in my mouth. I came all the way out here to meet people and have a good time, but lately, I haven't been having fun anymore."
Ralidia covered Woranal's hand with her own. "Do what you want, Nal. We'll support you all the way."
Leeta took her other hand. "Just make sure to send us lots of messages, okay? We'll miss you a lot."
"And I'll miss all of you." Woranal looked around the table. "You're the reason I haven't missed my family and my people—because that's what you are to me. If I do move on, I'll never forget you, any of you."
"Oh!" Leeta had to release Woranal's hand to wipe her eyes with her napkin. She heard someone sniffle.
"All right, none of that," Pella said, though there was the tiniest catch in her voice. "Get those glasses up."
Leeta fumbled for her martini as, around her, everyone did the same.
"To Woranal," Pella declared in full voice. "No matter where you go or what you do, may you find happiness."
They touched their glasses and called out agreement. But as they were about to sip their drinks, with deliberately awful timing, Pella added, "Long may your boobs be warm."
There were shrieks and gasps—and lots of coughing when Midia accidentally inhaled her Chech'tluth—but, once again, there was laughter.
Leeta set down her drink to pick up her napkin and wipe away a few more tears. Her job might be long, hard, and thankless, and sometimes she didn't like it very much, but she could never say that about the people crowded around her. Like Woranal, they were her family, and no matter where life took her, she would never forget them.
Fandom: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Gen
Rating & Warnings: PG (alcohol)
Words: 926
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek: Deep Space Nine.
Summary: A look in on the weekly night out of the dabo spinners of DS9.
Author's Notes: My submission to DS9 Tumblr Zine for the prompt "Close Encounters of the Third Kind"!
It didn't take me as long as I expected to think of what I wanted to do for this week's prompt. For all DS9 has so many amazing secondary characters, this popped into my head right away, possibly because I've been writing about Leeta a fair bit lately. I thought it would be nice to give the dabo spinners (because I absolutely refuse to call them "dabo girls") a chance to interact with each other and be more than eye candy. I figure they would get along pretty great, because there's nothing like a common foe *coughQuarkcough* to bring people together.
"Welcome, welcome!" called out Morgh, chef of the Klingon restaurant. He always had a personal greeting and a toothy smile when Leeta and her friends arrived together, and why not? Not many businesses saw parties of eight turn up every week.
"I have already prepared your place." Morgh gestured at where two tables had been pushed together, chairs lined up just so. "Make yourselves comfortable while I deliver the menus."
"Thanks, Morgh," Pella, known as M'Pella during working hours, said and dropped into the nearest chair with a heavy sigh.
"Yes, thank you!" Leeta added as she took the seat next to her.
It had become an end-of-the-week tradition for the dabo spinners of Quark's, and had been for as long as the Federation had been running DS9. It was good to go out for a meal, a chat, and a rant somewhere they wouldn't have to deal with Quark trying to cheat them out of their money. (It was bad enough he did it during work hours without giving him the chance in their free time.)
With eight of them to get settled, they barely had time to say anything to each other before Morgh returned with four padds to a hand. He took their drink orders, ranging from water (Ralidia) to bloodwine (Pella), and off he went again.
"Oh, gladst is back on the menu," Tellan Sarda remarked. "Too bad Mardah isn't still here—remember how she ordered it every single time for three months?"
There were a few chuckles. That level of devotion was hard to forget.
"Has anyone heard from Mardah lately?" Brin (also known as Etheria) asked.
"I got a message from her earlier," Gillian (or Glidia). They all leaned in; when she wasn't spinning the wheels and calling out "Dabo," she was the most soft-spoken of all of them. "She's just started classes for her second year. She said that she's finding the honours courses a jump up from last year, but she was smiling. I think she's doing all right."
"Good for her!" Leeta said, beaming. She didn't know Mardah all that well—her first year at Quark's had been Mardah's last—but someone who could live through the Occupation and go on to make it into honours classes in a year was worth celebrating.
"Send along our congratulations, will you?" Pella told Gillian. She grinned. "And ask her if she's met anyone nice."
Gillian smiled. "Well . . . she did also mention a cute Vulcan in her class. . . ."
Before they could demand she elaborate, Morgh arrived once again. It was probably the fastest they'd ever whipped off their orders, and after he'd left, they all pressed Gillian for details, then moved on to similarly light topics of conversation once she'd satisfied their curiosity as much as she was able (which wasn't nearly enough).
Things took a turn for the more serious later on, however, when Misteria (Woranal) set aside her utensil, her yellow fingers flattening briefly on the tabletop before announcing, "I was thinking of seeing sometime in the next few days if Garak is hiring."
That stopped the conversation dead. Every one of them turned to stare at her.
"Why?" Pella asked, tension straining the richness of her voice.
Leeta didn't blame her, and she fidgeted with the edge of her napkin. The rare occasions Garak went to Quark's, he was polite and never gave any of them trouble—something every dabo spinner could appreciate. But at the same time . . . this hadn't always been a Federation station.
"Because frankly, my boobs are getting cold," Woranal answered very dryly.
The moment was carried away on a wave of laughter; Midia raised her mug of Chech'tluth in salute.
But when the wave had washed past, Woranal spoke again, more softly. "It's the business with the union. It left a sour taste in my mouth. I came all the way out here to meet people and have a good time, but lately, I haven't been having fun anymore."
Ralidia covered Woranal's hand with her own. "Do what you want, Nal. We'll support you all the way."
Leeta took her other hand. "Just make sure to send us lots of messages, okay? We'll miss you a lot."
"And I'll miss all of you." Woranal looked around the table. "You're the reason I haven't missed my family and my people—because that's what you are to me. If I do move on, I'll never forget you, any of you."
"Oh!" Leeta had to release Woranal's hand to wipe her eyes with her napkin. She heard someone sniffle.
"All right, none of that," Pella said, though there was the tiniest catch in her voice. "Get those glasses up."
Leeta fumbled for her martini as, around her, everyone did the same.
"To Woranal," Pella declared in full voice. "No matter where you go or what you do, may you find happiness."
They touched their glasses and called out agreement. But as they were about to sip their drinks, with deliberately awful timing, Pella added, "Long may your boobs be warm."
There were shrieks and gasps—and lots of coughing when Midia accidentally inhaled her Chech'tluth—but, once again, there was laughter.
Leeta set down her drink to pick up her napkin and wipe away a few more tears. Her job might be long, hard, and thankless, and sometimes she didn't like it very much, but she could never say that about the people crowded around her. Like Woranal, they were her family, and no matter where life took her, she would never forget them.
