Fight... *and* Flight?

Posted on Sun Apr 5th, 2026 @ 10:36pm by Petty Officer 1st Class Celes Fara & Ensign Cha'joga

1,156 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Episode 1: Shadows of Diplomacy
Location: Mess Hall, USS Scharnhorst

Targ. Cha'joga's choice of steak was always targ. Sure, it was stringy, tough and gamey even when cooked well, but it reminded her of the home she'd left behind to seek glory on her own terms. She was even more pleased to find that the Scharnhorst's replicators offered it - and customizeable, to boot. So her order tonight was targ done medium rare, with mashed potatoes, steamed vegetables and a bloodred sauce originally made with reduced bloodwine and targ's blood.

She didn't care if people stared at her while she ate - whether the target of their gaze was her or her dinner, it didn't matter. Cha'joga had never been shy by any stretch of the imagination.

Still, though, watching her devour her dinner (with a steak knife and fork, duh) while seated at a mess hall table in a form-hugging outfit that left her shoulders and midsection bare, it was kind of hard not to look.

Celes had been making notes on the modifications they still needed to do on the Cooper but was distracted by the high-pitched sound of cutlery-on-plate next to her. She finally looked over and cocked an eyebrow. "Pro tip: When you cut through the plate, stop the knife."

Cha'joga didn't seem bothered by the snark of the Bajoran who'd just spoken to her from the next table. The Klingon paid her very little mind, in fact, affording the woman only a glance up from her dinner.

"I apologise for having interrupted your important business. I shall try to eat more quietly." She stated, opting to use a bit less force this time round. She'd gotten used to receiving snark from her people - except in the case of Klingons snark normally came with a weapon swung at her face. That this woman was not only unarmed but also opting to run her mouth from her seat one table away was a blessing.

"Maybe just slice less aggressively," Celes said, smirking. "Hard for a Klingon, sure, but you can't tell me that sound doesn't hit your ears too." She twirled another forkful of her linguini silently and stabbed a shrimp, popping it in her mouth.

Cha'joga snorted. As much as she didn't like this Bajoran's snarkiness, honestly, she was right. Sort of. She could legitimately see a few of her colleagues visibly relax as the ear-piercing scratching of her knife to her plate disappeared. What was the human meme again, he's out of line, but he's right?

"My name is Cha'joga." She said, looking up at the other once more. Might as well turn this into an opportunity. "How about you?"

The blonde Bajoran looked at her for a long moment, then reached over with a hand extended. "Fara Celes," she said.

There was a look of smug satisfaction on the Klingon's face as she reached over and shook Celes' hand firmly. This woman may have been majority bluster, but even she had a crack in the armor. Hell, she was almost sure it was some kind of shield she'd put up and forgotten how to put down.

"No, you're right. Perhaps I could have afforded to be less forceful with my steak." She admitted as she withdrew her hand and picked up her fork. "But targ is warrior's meat. It requires force to be conquered, or it will conquer you by straining your wrist. On Qo'nos we have knives far more suited to eating it than what the replicator provides."

Celes pondered that. "Well, better start sharpening a knife at home, then," she said. "I prefer eating things that don't require quite so much effort."

The suggestion was met with an amused snort from the Klingon and a shake of her head. "As if." She scoffed. "You know as well as I do that carrying sharp knives around a Starfleet vessel is usually cause for concern. Why should I expend so much effort for something I will only do every so often at such high risk to myself?"

Celes nodded, pointing a fork at the other woman. "I feel the same way about dating Ferengi," she said, smirking and taking another bite. "So what do you do around here?" she said, gesturing around the room with her fork.

"Security." Cha'joga replied with a toothy smile. "I shoot things. And alternatively give them a good, solid smack if I must. It is a fun job, especially when they shoot or smack back."

"How about you? What do you do on board?"

"I manage the shuttle bays," Celes said. "I direct repairs, logistics, all the exciting lower deck crap." She thought a moment. "And I also alternatively give the boys a good, solid smack if I must." She sat back and raised her mug. "And yeah, you're right, that does make it a fun job." She grinned.

"Boys can be terribly inefficient, yes." Cha'joga affirmed. "They rush and cut corners because they think they need to earn their worth as men by doing something quickly instead of doing it well. I'm sure it is far worse for you when rushing a shuttle flight means dead bodies."

"For myself? I prefer to earn my worth by living my best life. There is no greater honor." She added, raising a glass to Celes'. "A life well lived is an honorable life. A life lived honestly is also an honorable life. So I try to do both."

"Well, I don't know if I'm honorable, but I try to be honest," Celes said. "And my team doesn't cut corners. I don't let them. They're just pains in the ass, and I love them, even the jerks have their perks." She took a long drink. "Damn, I'm a poet," she chuckled.

"Honesty means unwillingness to let your values be compromised. That you say and do what you know is right though it may hurt you." Cha'joga replied with a snort. "I say that is honor enough for anyone - and a far better choice to make than what some of our colleagues do to save their skins when faced with the grinder."

"But yes, even the 'jerks' have their 'perks, indeed. Sometimes what they need is to be put under pressure. Or... other situations." She added with a smirk.

Celes grinned and raised her glass again. "Yeah, well, for now we'll stick to pressure. We've got a shuttle to finish adapting."

"Try not to break them, of course. I find even the hardheads crack when pressed too hard," Cha'joga replied with a grin.

"Haven't broken a technician yet, don't plan to start now," Celes said, finishing her meal. "Speaking of, have to go back and stop them from slacking off. Good chat." She raised her glass and finished it off before standing and picking up her tray.

"And I have dinner to finish. May we meet again under better circumstances." Cha'joga replied with a grin.

 

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