"Food and statements"
 by Lieutenant jg T'Kang
 Chief Tactical Officer - USS Tempest
 http://come.to/tkang


Commodore Taddy Mitchell rubbed a hand across his chin 
as he gave the old Yiridian beggar a long stare.  The Captain 
was summing him up and trying to decide if he was indeed 
approached by T'Kang's older self from this time period, or if 
he was just a clever con man trying to hitch a free ride off of 
the Dakota II Colony and the authorities there.  Finally, the 
decision was made.

"Very well mister Merlund, I will take you at your word that 
you are an honest man and agree to provide passage on 
board the Tempest away from the Dakota Colony.  I will only 
do this if you agree to hand over the recording T'Kang's 
father gave you to deliver."  Taddy explained evenly with the 
voice of authority only a starship Captain can summon.

"After we leave the colony, then the recording it yours."  the 
Yiridian reminded in a high pitched, squeaky voice that 
grated on T'Kang's nerves.

"Of course."  Taddy blinked in sage like fashion, and then 
added, "I've placed my trust in you mister Merlund, I expect 
you will not abuse it."

The Yiridian smiled showing his rat-like teeth.  "Why of 
course not Captain.  I am but a humble man, grateful at your 
extended hospitality."

T'Kang was just standing by, brooding with his arms 
crossed, somewhat disgusted that he couldn't just beat the 
Yiridian into submission because it wasn't the 'Starfleet' thing 
to do.

"Then I'm sure your stay on board the Tempest should be a 
pleasant, trouble free experience."  the Commodore smiled, 
"And to insure that it is, Lieutenant T'Kang be responsible to 
keep an eye on you throughout your stay."

The Captain's words broke through T'Kang's angry brooding 
as a look of shock and objection took it's place.  Though the 
Klingon knew better than to voice his feelings to the 
Commodore.

Merlund glanced at T'Kang and nodded his approval.  "That 
will be most welcome Captain.  T'Kang and I are good 
friends."

"We are not friends. . . ."  T'Kang hissed as politely as 
possible through clenched teeth.

Looking at the Chief Tactical Officer, Commodore Taddy 
added, "I'm holding you responsible for Mister Merlund's stay 
on board the Tempest T'Kang."

With a hint of objection, the Klingon never the less agreed.  
"I understand sir.  I will make sure he stays out of trouble."  
T'Kang said glancing, evilly at the wrinkled mouse man, "You 
can count on it."

"Very well then.  You are dismissed."  Taddy finished.

The Yiridian rose to his feet and glanced at T'Kang with a 
smug smile that made the Klingon's blood boil.  "I would like 
to visit your ship's food department.  All of this talking has 
made me thirsty and hungry."

With great restraint (for T'Kang), the Klingon turned to walk 
out of the Commodore's ready room.  "I will take you to Ten 
Forward.  You can eat there."

"Ten forward?  What an odd name for a food department.  
No matter, lead the way my friend.  Lead the way."

"I am not your friend. . . ."  T'Kang hissed as the two men 
exited the office.


Both T'Kang and the Yiridian made it to Ten Forward with 
little in the way of conversation.  The Klingon just stared 
ahead with arms crossed during the turbolift ride, being his 
normal bundle of joy as the Yiridian babbled on about so 
much nonsense.  There was something about a person that 
talked too much that made T'Kang distrustful.  But then 
again, T'Kang was not exactly the trustful type around 
anyone at all.

The doors opened and within a short time they arrived at 
Ten Forward.

"Why this is a wonderful lounge.  Nothing at all like I 
imagined by it's name."  Merlund went on.

"This way."  T'Kang grumbled, leading the Yiridian to a table 
near one of the observation windows.  "Sit down."

Merlund sat and admired the view of the planet below.  "I 
see we have not left orbit yet. . . ."

"Do you want food or not?!"  T'Kang's said in a short temper.

"Food?. . . . but of course!"  The Yiridian responded, 
snapping back around and rubbing his gray hands together 
eagerly while his whiskers twitched in anticipation.

"I will get you something.  Stay here."  T'Kang demanded in 
a grumble, then stomped off to get the Yiridian some food 
from the replicator.

It was amazing to watch a small, frail old man consume so 
much food.  T'Kang had been in the company of warriors 
when he was a boy.  He remembered his first hunt and how 
they stalked and followed their prey for hours through the 
roughest terrain imaginable until they were victorious.  He 
remembered the long march and the singing as they carried 
the heavy carcass back to their camp and spent another few 
hours preparing their meal and cooking it over the fire.  By 
the time these warriors got to actually eat their food, they 
were famished from the hunt and hard work that went into 
creating the feast.  Yet this skinny old man managed to 
make those grown Klingon warriors seem like amateurs the 
way he consumed food.  It was quite amazing to watch.

In his distraction over seeing Merlund down his fifth plate of 
food from the replicator, T'Kang failed to see Lieutenant 
Thomas McQueen, the Chief of Security on board the 
starship,  approach.

"Lieutenant T'Kang. . . . ?" McQueen asked.

"Yes. . . . What do you want?!"  T'Kang responded both 
apprehensively and rudely.

McQueen took note of T'Kang's tone, but wasn't bothered by 
it.  As Chief of security, he was used to people being rude to 
him.  "I need to talk to you about the incident with Lieutenant 
McGrath, Lieutenant O'Malley, and Ensign Tarses."

T'Kang was surprised.  He hadn't realized he'd been seen at 
that little altercation.  "Oh. . . .  that.  Cant it wait?  I am busy 
now." T'Kang motioned at the Yiridian who was now busy 
slurping down a large bowl of soup.

McQueen shook his head.  "No it cant wait.  This way 
please. "  the Chief of Security said, motioning to the door.

"I am in the middle of a conversation!  It is very important." 
T'Kang replied boisterously, loosing his temper some what.  
He knew the Commodore had made the Yiridian his 
responsibility while he was on board the Tempest.  He didn't 
want to let the old man out of his sight.

"I'm sorry.  This can't wait.  I will have someone escort
your. . . . guest here, to a guest suite." McQueen said, now 
noticing how ravenously the old Yiridian was consuming his 
food.

T'Kang sighed.  He didn't want to argue with the Chief of 
Security.  He'd gotten into enough trouble on his previous 
assignments by doing that.  "Very well."

McQueen called a Security officer down to the Lounge to 
escort the Yiridian to some guest quarters.  Then he and 
T'Kang went down to the security office.  McQueen entered 
the office, pausing to allow T'Kang to follow.

"Have a seat Lieutenant." McQueen said in his 'this is going 
to take a while' tone.

"I trust this won't take long?"  T'Kang grumbled, still worrying 
about the Yiridian as he sat down.

"It will take as long as necessary." McQueen stated in a 
even, stern tone.  He then turned his monitor to face T'Kang.  
It displayed a graphic of the corridor where the incident took 
place from the sensory logs.  "This is you."  McQueen says 
pointing at the red dot representing T'Kang's exact location 
where he watched the fight at the end of the corridor, out of 
sight of the others.  "It places you in perfect position to 
observe the fight between the three officer's. . . ."

T'Kang's expression soured more than usual.  "So?!. . . ." he 
barked defiantly in proud Klingon fashion.

McQueen stares at him.  "So. . . . Obviously you saw 
something if you stood there while the whole thing was going 
on."  The Security Chief stated leaning back in his own chair.

T'Kang nods reluctantly.  "Yes." he responded simply in a 
monotone.  Not offering anything more.  The Klingon didn't 
want to get involved in the altercation or 'rat out' his fellow 
crew members.  As far as he was concerned the incident 
didn't involve him.

McQueen pressed his lips together.  He could tell this wasn't 
going to be easy and that T'Kang was not going to simply 
offer his help in explained what he saw.  That was okay, as 
the Chief had plenty of experience at getting to the truth.  
"Well. . . .  I would appreciate if you told me what you saw."

T'Kang frowned.  He couldn't deny he was there.  The Chief 
had nailed him on that with the ship's internal sensor logs.  
There was no point in lying about it.  That would be futile.  
"Very well. "  He stated in a low tone.

"Computer, begin recording. . . ." McQueen called out to the 
computer, which in turn made an acknowledgement tone.

When T'Kang saw the Chief nod, he knew he was set to 
begin.  The thought struck him to simply say that he'd saw 
nothing, but he figured that would just further annoy 
McQueen.  T'Kang saw no reason to get the Chief of 
Security mad at him for something he was no part of.

"I was walking along the corridor on my way back to the 
bridge when I heard an altercation up ahead.   I do not know 
what or who started it, as I came along when it was already 
under way."  T'Kang explained.

"Go on."  McQueen coaxed.

"I didn't want to get involved, so I stood back down the 
corridor where I couldn't easily be seen.  There were three 
officers.  I only recognized one.  O'Malley."  T'Kang hissed in 
an annoyed fashion as he pronounced the spunky Chief 
Operations Officer's name.

McQueen took mental note of that, but chose not to 
comment on it.  "Go on.  What did you see?"

"I overheard an argument between O'Malley and some guy 
named Sharpe over the other officer being Romulan and not 
Vulcan."  T'Kang explained.

"Sharpe?"  McQueen questioned, not realizing Sharpe was 
part of this.

"That's what O'Malley said.  She called him Sharpe.  They 
argued over the Romulan guy. . . . Gnoswal I think they 
called him, until finally Sharpe confronted O'Malley, getting in 
her face and yelling.  That's when O'Malley struck Sharpe."  
T'Kang explained.

"So then O'Malley started the fight."  McQueen repeated.

With an annoyed expression T'Kang grumbled back, "I told 
you!  I don't know who started it.  When I arrived, the other 
two officers. . . ."

"Sharpe and Gnoswal Tarses?"  McQueen injected.

T'Kang nodded, "If that was their names, the other two 
officers were already on the ground.  It looked and sounded 
like Lieutenant O'Malley was trying to stop the fight."

McQueen touched a finger to his chin as he absorbed what 
the Tactical officer was telling him.  "What happened next?"

"Security arrived less than a minute later while all three 
officers were fighting.  I left when I saw them coming."  
T'Kang finished unhappily.

"Why did you leave?  You could have come forward and 
cleared this up right then."  McQueen questioned, possibly 
not fully believing the Lieutenant's description of what he 
saw.

"I didn't want to get involved.  I told you, I didn't see who 
started it and only saw the middle of it.  I am new on board 
this vessel, I barely know any of the officers here.  And with 
my past record of insubordination on my prior assignments. . 
. . I just thought it best if I didn't come forward over what 
amounted to a minor brawl."  T'Kang explained stubbornly.

McQueen regarded the Klingon for a long moment.  He'd 
had extensive training in the technique of questioning 
suspects and determining if they were lying or not.  T'Kang 
showed no signs of being anything other than a proud, if not 
somewhat grumpy, Klingon warrior that just didn't want to 
cause any more waves through the ranks.  McQueen could 
understand that.


*****

OOC: You're move McQueen.