So a Cait Walked into a Bar...

[Mreh K'hal 0]

Mreh, still a bit emotional about the personal farewell meeting with Lefty, now had to plan a friggin' farewell party. Hers, as a matter of fact. One that is supposed to take place in two hours. If Mreh was at a desk, he'd probably hit his head on it. As it was, he made his way toward the Holy Grail to set it up. He'd never gone into the place, so he was not sure what to expect. He was half afraid it was going to be some hokey interpretation of the Arthur story, and as such had to promise himself that if he saw a so-called "portrait" of Merlin on any walls not to claw it. He supposed he'd have to seek out the Mr. Kroells and get the assistance of the former Excalibur man, who when it came to the current Excalibur was a bit more legendary than Arthur. Not knowing exactly what to expect there either, as gossip could be a fickle friend, he entered through the doors of the Holy Grail.

 

Fortunetly for Mreh, the "Arthurian" theme to the grail was phased out after Travis had bought the bar from his old friend and business partner, the Ferengi Mog. The Grail had been redesigned as more modern entertainment establishment, though the holo emitters Kroells had installed well... everywhere allowed him to conviently reconfigure things as necessity dictated. He found the settings rather dull actually, but thanks to the shore leave stricken crew of Excalibur using up all his holosuites, he was forced to leave the Grail conservative looking, lest station operations harp on him again for going over his power allocation. Noticing Mreh enter produced a small smile on the human's face. He'd made it a habit of knowing everyone that served on the Akira Class, and that the Cait had never yet given him business sent his mind searching for a reason why he might wish for Kroells' services now.

 

Being born of a species of predatory past, Caitians could be rather intimidating at times. However, thanks to their similarly evolved yet domesticated cousins on Earth, Mreh knew he could use the right look and tone to put many humans at ease. Stopping a server, he put on his cuddly kitty face and purred out "Where can I find Mr. Kroells?" Apparently not fearing that his intentions were to go claw the boss, he was pointed in the right direction and made his way over.

 

"Mr. Kroells?" he asked, tamping down on the look a bit (it seldom worked as well on males, though there are always exceptions) but still appearing to be friendly even if his mood was in the gutter.

 

"Yes Mr. K'hal, what can I do for you?" His tone was coridial and polite, but also had a professional tone too it. Being a former officer often gave him a starting commonality with his customers, but in his civilian role he'd learned to read people fairly well, it often lead to higher profits. A forced smile was a forced smile whatever your species... or smile for that fact, and Mreh's showed rather clearly. Kroells could tell his mind was focused elsewhere, but on what he couldn't speculate. A smile grew on his as his curiosity grew over where this was headed.

 

"The Excalibur needs the services of your establishment," Mreh said, grateful that Kroells wasn't a bouncy sort. "A gathering for as many of the Excalibur crew that wish to attend and can fit." His ears flattened a bit. "A farewell party, to be exact."

 

"A transfer, or retirement party, I hope." He nodded and leaned against the bar, taking a quick look around the floor. "Well, The Holy Grail can hold about 200 people... 300 if you don't like them much. You'll find whatever you had in mind pretty straight-forward, as I employ a good amount of holographics in the decorum. As for price, that's entirely up to your imagination."

 

"Transfer," Mreh responded rather gruffly. His tail uncurled from his leg and started to swish about behind him in agitation. "As for the decor, this will probably do," he said, looking around. M'Vess wouldn't want anything frilly. "And definitely no 'congratulations' banners or the like, either." Hard to congratulate someone who's ticked about leaving, Mreh thought. "Food, drinks, standard Federation fare," he added. "Maybe a few Caitian specialties, if you can manage. I'm sure that M'V... Commander JoNs would appreciate that much at least."

 

Travis nodded thoughtfully. "I'll keep it conservative. As for the food I believe we can produce a good variety, I'll see what the kitchen can whip up. I know Commander JoNs has been on board for a while, must of been something good to pull her away. I'll see to it that she gets a fitting farewell." He sighed, and poured himself a drink. "Care for something?"

 

"Something, all right," Mreh muttered. He looked around, but did not notice any chrono easily visible (which was probably wise, Mreh figured, not to advertise to the patrons how much time and money they've spent). Instead, he pulled out his own and looked. "The main problem is that we have," he paused, did the math. "One hour and forty-eight minutes until the party needs to start. So I'll pass on the drink, but thank you." By this point in the conversation, Mreh wasn't bothering to keep up the happy kitty face, and he looked ruffled, upset, and much more like the predatory version of the feline species.

 

Travis was about to take a drink, but paused and quickly put his drink down. "An hour and forty-eight minutes? You Excalibur folk do fly by the seat of your pants. I can have your party ready by then, but sudden notice of having to force all my patrons out raises the price a bit. Though for you it's more then likely a requisition form, and I always enjoy giving your Captain a bill." He maintained a neutral tone. By now he'd deduced that ordering this little party was part of obviously agitated Caitian's frustration. Better to speed things along and save Mreh's patience and Travis' profit/life.

 

"To be perfectly honest, Mr. Kroells," Mreh began. "I'm sure even Captain Corizon will be more than happy to fob a large bill off on Starfleet after they yank the XO off our ship. So when it comes to food and drink, by all means don't spare the good stuff. As for the deadline cost, yes, that's certainly understandable. So long as I don't see any deliberate skinning on the price quote you'll get the signature." He forced his tail back around his legs before it could whip around and offend any drunkards. He didn't have time for a bar fight today, even if he was in the mood.

 

"So the brass pulled her?" He shook his head. "Typical. Haven't seen too many people come out here that want to go back, odd as it is. You'll get your party Mr. K'hal, and I'll be sure to let Starfleet know how much her shipmates appreciate her in my billing."

 

"That's all I can ask," Mreh said, the smile that curved up on his lips not a happy one, but more like the Caitian that caught the Canarian. "Oh... one more thing," he added, thinking of M'Vess. "When you whip up party favors or a cake or whatever." His paw made the galactic symbol for yadda yadda. "Make sure there's something prominent with the Excal's fighter squadron. If she can't keep 'em, she might as well eat 'em."

 

"I'll see what I can do," Travis replied with a chuckle. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go tell my customers to drink at someone else's bar, something neither them nor I enjoy."