Realization

Posted on Tue Jan 30th, 2024 @ 10:56pm by Commander Kevin Lance

Mission: Deep Space Nine
Location: Deep Space Nine
Timeline: Current

on:
{Deep Space Nine}

Kevin was close to completing his third lap of the station’s docking ring. The corridor that ran the circumference of Deep Space Nine measured just a shade under 4400 meters. He clocked in at sixty-two minutes for the thirteen kilometers and was feeling better about himself. He wasn’t certain that “sweating out the toxins” was valid but the endorphin high as he completed was undeniable. He was doing some post-run stretching when the doors to a nearby cargo bay opened and out stepped Quark.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite customer,” the Ferengi bar owner quipped.

“Quark,” Kevin acknowledged with a short nod.

“I’m told that hair of the dog that bit you is a good remedy for a hangover,” Quark offered.

“I wasn’t bitten by a dog,” Kevin replied a little confused. At least he didn’t think that he had been. There were significant gaps in his memory of his evening a Quark’s

Quark shook his head, “It’s an old Earth saying that Chief O’Brien used to reference. I still have some stock of Klingon liquor and delicacies left over from yours and the Klingon’s delegate attempt to deplete them.”

Kevin’s stomach began to roil again as he took Quark’s meaning. “No,” he responded, holding up a hand, “I’ve had quite enough of that.”

“Must have been quite the kiss, though”

“Kiss?” Kevin asked, “What kiss?

“The one that you gave to Mira Rodale,” answered with insincere innocence, “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten it? Not many women can knock a man out with a single kiss.”

“You’re lying,” Kevin accused the Ferengi.

Quark held his hand up to chest, “May I lose my last strip of Latinum if I am. But you don’t have to believe just me. Ask Morn. He saw the whole thing.”

Kevin remembered Morn’s presence and a conversation that the two had fallen into about the meaning of life, although he couldn’t remember how it had ended.

“No,” Kevin protested as he buried his head in his hands, “No No No.”

“Yes you did,” the Ferengi insisted as he clapped a hand on Kevin’s shoulder, “And it looked like she was wanting more. Well, good luck to you Lieutenant.”

Kevin was speechless as he considered the ramifications. Zefram, he thought, I am so screwed.

:off

Lieutenant Kevin Lance
Chief Flight Control Officer
USS Chuck Norris