Stardate, oh wait, that’s pajama boy talk.
It had been a while since we had called on DS9, and with the impending elections on Bajor, I figured now was as good a time as any to stop by Quark’s and shoot the breeze.
We had picked up on the Bajoran News Network that, once again, as Bajorans exercised their right to vote (something that was denied them under the Cardasian Occupation), they would be dipping their index fingers in purple ink.
Checking one of my favorite blogs, Little Green Drazie, I learned that many Feddies stationed on DS9 were dipping their index fingers in purple ink as well, as a sign of solidarity with the Bajorans.
As my crew and I have always been supportive of Bajoran Independace, and their free elections, I had my quartermaster, Kalunamoonya, run up some purple ink so that the crew could also partake in a show of solidarity.
After docking, I figured I would head down to Quark’s for a few pints of Guinness with Tribble Sweat chasers before heading over to Tunok’s Grill for dinner.
The promenade was full of Feddies, Bajorans, and peoples of other races, many sporting purple fingers. Even the Drazie, despite their differences during their own elections (using purple and green sashes), were sporting purple fingers.
Quark’s was busy, happy hour being in full swing and all the controversy over the Feddie election and Flipper Kerry had finally blown over. Things there were back to normal.
Taking a seat at the bar, I could see Morn gesticulating with an obvious inked purple finger. It was catching on.
“Kahuna, long time, no see,” said Quark when he approached me. “The usual?”
“Yeap, and keep em coming.”
“Okay, but let’s see your finger first.”
“My what?”
“Your finger. Or haven’t you heard?”
“Hear what?”
“First one is on me to all purple fingers. One round per customer,” Quark said, then held up his own purple-inked finger. “See? Even I am on this bandwagon,” he grinned at me, then whispered, “and it’s good for business, as well.”
No surprise there. I held up my right hand so he could see my freshly inked index finger.
Quark smiled, pulled a pint of Guinness from the tap, set it in front of me, then poured a shot of Tribble Sweat, and set the glass next to the pint. “By the way, only the Guinness is on the house, not the Tribble Sweat.”
“No prob.” Actually, I was surprised to get the Guinness on the house. But then, it looked like he was right. People were knocking back pints galore, and the volume of noise was nearly intolerable.
I was just finishing my first round when Captain Gremmie turned up, two fingers inked, not just one, so I had to ask him about that. Big mistake.
“Oh, you see, I got it wrong, and dipped my middle-finger first. Then Quark, when he saw what I had done, made me display it to everyone here. The Drazie went ballistic, started a riot that spilled out onto the promenade, taking me with them. During the riot I was knocked out. When I regained consciousness, I was sitting in Bwanna’s with my index finger inked purple. At least I thought it was ink. Well, yeah, it is ink, just not the kind that will wash off in a few days. But laser-tattooing ink. Its permanent.”
“Who did that to you?”
“Not sure, but I suspect it was the Drazie. They’ve been buying me drinks ever since.”
This came as no surprise as I had noticed some Drazie with green sashes pointing at Gremmie, and snickering behind his back as a drink mysteriously appeared in front of him. It was purple.
“So, what is that thing you are drinking?” I asked.
“They call it Purple Haze. No idea why. This is my forth one. Keep this up I won’t be able to make my run in the Bat Guano tomorrow.”
For once, I actually felt sorry for Gremmie. But I stopped short of inviting him to join me at Tunok’s for chow. I didn’t feel that sorry for him. Since I finished my first round, and a second had yet to materialize in front of me, I decided to make a quick exit and beat the dinner rush.
Kahuna out.
