Clash of Culture

[NDak 0]

A Joint Production Between:

Brian Graham

and

tr'Jok (AKA the Romulan SG-at-Large)

 

 

 

Brian Graham glanced around the engine room of the BattleWren, keeping an eye on the engineers but also looking at the second floor and the doors, that concealed the bowels of the vessel

 

tr'Jok, a tallish olive-skinned D’Heno (Security) officer stood with arms folded behind his back, starring at the lloann'na galae (Federation fleet) officer who seemed to have wondering eyes.

 

Brian noticed he was being watched. “Is there a problem,” Brian said squinting at items on the Romulan's collar.

 

tr'Jok measured up the Lloann'na officer who had spoke to him, the same one who had the roving eyes. “Na so long as au stop aur wondering eyes, na there will be na problem.”

 

Brian’s antennae twitched back slightly but he quickly righted them. “Sub-commander, with all due respect, roving eyes are a requirement for security officers.”

 

tr'Jok kept a firm grip on his ie'yakk (disruptor) he looked over the antennaed one, then said as flatly as he could. “Perhaps on a lloann'na trashship, Ie (yes)...however as au can see I have things well under control. Unless of course au are expecting something we were na briefed on by au Riov (Captain)?”

 

tr’Jok arched a brow and looked curiously at the Andorian.

 

“It's my job to be paranoid. If it makes you feel any better I got less than high marks in my starship engineering courses at the Academy,” Brian paused gathering himself, remembering not to cause a firefight, 'especially' around warp engine components.

 

tr'Jok looked over at Brian, breaking his stoic demeanor slightly, obviously a tad bit disdainful at the whole arrangement between the Romulans and the Excalibur.

 

“Is this what au lloann'na call 'talking small?”

 

“Something like that. Its purpose is to calm a situation. I can stop if you'd like.”

 

The Romulan stood statuary along the cold, grey-green metallic walls and rolled his eyes ubiquitously. “I had forgotten au Lloann'na are na well prepared for yy'a...”

 

Brian squarely faced the Romulan, hoping to salvage respect for the Federation. “All Federation officers are prepared for death, otherwise we don't join Starfleet.”

 

tr'Jok smirked, almsot enjoying this little game with the Andorian D'Heno officer. “Perhaps au are...” he paused theatrically. “However...do na think that Rihan's on this vessel, should we yy'a, are yy'aing for au....Enriov (Admiral).”

 

He spoke cold calculating in his voice, a measure rhythm that was allowing him to control the pace of the conversation. He looked straight into the Andorian's eyes, starring him down.

 

Brian was nto to be intimidated and stared back. “No, for the Empire right?”

 

tr'Jok smirks, break the moment of tension. “I do na plan on yy'aing,” he said skillfully avoiding answering any questions himself. “Although that fvai (dog) au brought on board with au may give us away...the Jem'Hadar can likely smell him...”

 

He paused, smirked and started again, “I knew we should have hung a sign saying "kll'inghann-a fvaiin aefvadh-ayar'dhat chon" (Klingon Dogs not welcome here).”

 

The Romulans close enough to tr'Jok to hear the comment smirk slightly at the Erei'Riov; tr'Jok waited for the reaction from the Andorian.

 

Brian, like most Federation citizens, was unaccustomed to prejudice, so he blinked somewhat surprised by the malice that it seemed tr’Jok was capable of. “I've heard Romulans don't like Klingons. I'm sure the Ambassador is not comfortable being on your vessel either.”

 

“It is not that we do not...like them...it's the smell we can not bare,” he said grinning with smug satisfaction, “And I am sure he is...what a better chance to spy upon au mortal enemy than too…”

 

Brian interrupted not liking where the conversation was going. “Smell shouldn't get in the way of mutual support.”

 

tr'Jok flashed a glare of utter contempt at the Andorian, then leaned very close to Brian. “The Rihan Empire does na need the help of the Lloann'na or the Kll'inghannsu,” his tone now harsh and almost threatening. “I believe it is au that need our help...little io.”

 

“The Federation is always looking for ways to promote cooperation. Especially in a situation like this.”

 

“How perfectly nauseating...”

 

“Would you like me to contact sickbay?”

 

tr'Jok was not amused, and muttered quietly, “More like an exterminator...”

 

Brian, blinked not quite hearing the insult, “I'm sorry?” He asked tilting his head a bit.

 

“Perhaps au are hearing things...” tr’Jok said feigning ignorance.

 

“Possibly, I'm not used to Romulan vessels.”

 

After a few long moments of silence, Brian spoke again to the Romulan. “So how long have you served the Romulan Star Empire?”

 

tr'Jok had begun growing tired of the insectoids’ mindless chatter, which was nearly as bad as a Vulcan. “Dev'thi (13) years.”

 

Brian noticed the slight annoyance but continued, hoping to ease the situation somewhat, so that they could leave on amicable terms. “Thirteen? Then you saw some action against the Dominion already, correct?”

 

“or Bolian.,” tr’Jok thought to self and shudder outwardly. “Ie...I fought for the Daise'Ennarain tr'Shaelon in every major battle the Rihannsu we're involved with.”

 

Brian’s eyes widened slightly, “That is impressive,” he said. “Tell me, have you seen a Founder before?”

 

“This conversation is over.”

 

Brian blinked. “Huh.”

 

“Au must have a hearing problem,” tr’Jok said sharply. “This conversation is over, au have duties to attend to.”

 

Apparently the conversation was over, because before Brian could respond, the slender Daise’D’Heno had walked off.