"Turkey Day II", or, "The Raucous Status of 'Klingon Holidays' "

[Guest Laarell]

"Turkey Day II", or, "The Raucous Status of 'Klingon Holidays' "

Lt. Cmdr. Laarell Teykier

Personal Log

November 23, 23--

 

Laarell looked around the mess, arms akimbo as she sniffed the air.

 

She got a strange sense of deja vu as she looked over the foods presented, buffet tables full of the all-too familiar turkey, gravy, stuffing, onions, carrots, corn, cranberries, ham, potatoes... some strange purple dish that was most likely an off-world import into the celebration -- or was it eggplant? One could never be sure when having a Thanksgiving feast aboard a starship.

 

Piling a plate high with the fare, she looked at the replicators buried against the back wall, inaccessible behind all of the haphazardly-placed tables and chairs. Sticking a fork into a large slice of hot fowl, she chewed thoughtfully.

 

The year before, she'd sent out a round of recipes to the chef back home on Qo'NoS, with some readily-available Klingon ingrediential substitutes for the Terran norms. Had Cook Jeffan taken her advice and played around throughout the year? Were her siblings and parents eating the foods even now? She wondered. She wished she knew.

 

Probably not... they'd more than likely just laughed off the idea of a human-oriented eating festival. After all... what would Orion and Klingon embassy staffers see in the celebration of Thanksgiving?

 

* * *

In another quadrant, far far away...

 

A hearty belch rang out at the long banquet table, followed by a roar of approval from the rest of the crowd. Stabbing into a large Jell-O molded 'bird', the huge Orion frowned, smashing his fist against the table, and a gagh worm.

 

"They're getting away!" he shouted.

 

"If they're going to be chilled, they could at least act the way they have to!" another announced, shaking his fist at the serving girl.

 

At the other end of the table, two of the females were engaged in idle pratter and gossip, daintily munching jolon berries prepared in the style of cranberries.

 

"She really outdid herself with those recipes," the elder mentioned, tossing a berry into her mouth.

 

The younger bobbed her head excitedly, cramming some more in. "I never knew that Laarell had such a knack for recipes. Where did she say the inspiration was from, again?"

 

"Some ritual called 'Thanksgiving'. Maybe you can contact her if we can ever get in touch with her, Darah."

 

The younger grinned at the middle of her two older sisters. "Think she'd want to hear how our success with cooking went, Navaar?" she asked, stuffing a load of green roots in her mouth.

 

"Don't be such a pig, girl!" her sister scolded, as a large hunk of pumpkin-colored goo came flying through the air at the other end of the table.

 

Navaar sighed, throwing up her hands. "Of course, when we invited the Klingon members of the embassy staff, we should have known that they'd make this occasion rather raucous..."

 

A flying goblet of bloodwine soared through the air, crashing onto the table with a resounding splash.

 

Darah shrugged. "Then again, maybe we're setting some new traditions to go along with the holiday..."

 

* * *

 

Then again, the holiday did involve food, and when Orions and/or Klingons were involved with a holiday, the holiday required food. Maybe it would appeal to them, after all. She wished she knew.

 

Taking a seat at a table of ensigns she didn't recognize, she smiled, scooching her tray of food onto the surface.

 

A smile. "Happy Thanksgiving, everyone."