Coffee, Not Chains
Posted on Fri Jun 12th, 2026 @ 5:21pm by Petty Officer 1st Class Luna Barto & Ensign Nyx Calder
2,055 words; about a 10 minute read
Mission:
Operation Kakori
Location: Brig, USS Valiant
She was on duty, it was her shift and there had been news of marines from the USS Pioneer, as well as intelligence officers were. Luna wasn't caught off-guard, she actually knew what was going on, contrary to what some may or may not. think.
In walked someone in her brig, someone she didn't know. He was escorting a Klingon.
"Hello, who are you?" challenging the man, who was escorting the Klingon.
Lachlan stopped just inside the brig, one hand raised slightly before the Klingon could take offence at the tone. The big man had already gone still beside him, shoulders locked, eyes fixed on the cells like they were a personal insult.
“Sergeant Major Lachlan Barr, USS Pioneer,” he said, calm but firm. “And this is not a prisoner transfer in the usual sense.”
He glanced once at the Klingon, then back to Luna.
“He was recovered from Breyet Nor during our extraction. Helped us get off that station, carried one of my officers out when he went down, and I gave him my word I’d vouch for him.”
The Klingon’s jaw tightened at the sight of the forcefield cells. Lachlan noticed, because of course he did.
“Colonel Tremble wants him secured until we know who he is and what happened to him. I’m not arguing that,” Lachlan added, keeping his voice low enough not to turn it into a performance. “But he’s just come from Cardassian custody. So we’re going to do this without shoving him into a cage like cargo, aye?”
He turned slightly toward the Klingon.
“Big man,” he said, quieter now, the edge softening just enough. “This is temporary. You speak to me, we get your name, your House if you’ll give it, and we keep this clean. No one here is Cardassian.”
Then he looked back to Luna.
“I’ll stay until he’s settled.”
Luna took a look at the Klingon then to Lachlan, "When was the last time your friend had eaten. And the same for you?" Luna deciding to do some hospitality after all, they surely could use something to eat.
Her sharp eyes also took in the wear tear, the condition the Klingon was in.
"Hmmnn." she mused. "Food and some clean clothing should help out greatly. How about my tending to his wounds as well." She paused. "Or I can offer something for you to clean your wounds with."
Luna directly asking the Klingon.
The Klingon looked at Luna for a long moment, then gave a low grunt that managed to sound like an entire sentence’s worth of disapproval.
“Pitiful,” he said at last, though his eyes stayed on the cell more than the woman offering help. “A warrior pulled from Cardassian chains, only to be offered food through another door with a lock.”
Lachlan gave him a sidelong look. “Aye, well, it’s a nicer lock.”
The Klingon’s gaze cut to him, sharp enough to take paint off the bulkhead.
Lachlan didn’t move. “No one’s sayin’ you have to like it.”
For a moment the Klingon looked as though he might argue simply for the sport of it. Then something shifted in his expression, not softening, exactly, but settling into a different kind of weight.
“I am Korrath, son of Morak,” he said, the words given with deliberate care. “Of the House of Ral’tagh.”
Lachlan inclined his head slightly. “Lachlan. Son of Theo.” A faint twitch touched his mouth. “House of Barr, if we’re bein’ formal.”
Korrath stared at him, then gave a rough, humourless breath that might have been approval.
Lachlan looked back to Luna. “He’ll refuse treatment because he’s Klingon and stubborn as old hull plating. I’ll refuse because I’ve had worse and I’m also stubborn as old hull plating.” He touched the side of his neck where bruising was starting to darken. “But coffee I’ll take, if you’ve got it.”
Korrath grunted again.
“What?” Lachlan asked.
“You accept comfort quickly.”
“It’s coffee, big man. Not surrender.”
"The lock is to keep my honor, as it is my orders to do as what I have been tasked to do. I am Luna, daughter of Barto, my father is a smith of bladed weapons."
Luna speaking with a great deal of pride in her father's work.
She walked over to where there was a coffee urn, which held coffee. Nothing replicated, along with two mugs.
"Just because you are being held in the brig doesn't mean that you are going to be mistreated." Luna's voice rather firm on this as she looked directly at Korrath.
She then walked over to hand the two mugs to Lachlan. "There you go. One for you and one for him."
Luna stepped back in order for Lachlan to give out the coffee.
"The bruising seems to carry a sign of his doing." Luna stating this without any rancor, but with practiced eye.
Lachlan accepted both mugs with a small nod, letting the warmth settle into his hands before he answered. He had the sense not to rush either of them. Korrath was still wound tight enough to snap, and Luna, awkward wording or not, was trying to do this properly.
“Aye,” he said, glancing from Luna to the Klingon. “What she’s sayin’, big man, is she’s got her duty. Same as you. Same as me. The lock’s not there to shame you. It’s there because none of us know enough yet, and until we do, she’s responsible for this room.”
He turned one of the mugs toward Korrath, holding it out without stepping too close.
“But she’s offering coffee, not chains.”
Korrath looked at the mug as if it might insult his House by existing.
Lachlan’s mouth twitched. “You can glare at it all you like. Won’t make it any less coffee.”
He looked back to Luna then, touching briefly at the bruising around his throat as if only just remembering it. “And aye, this was his work. First few seconds after I cut him loose, he thought I was another Cardassian come to finish the job.”
His gaze shifted back to Korrath, steady but not accusing.
“Can’t say I blame him.”
Korrath’s jaw tightened, though the anger in him seemed to change shape. Less wild now. More contained. After a long moment, he reached out and took the mug from Lachlan’s hand, the motion stiff but deliberate.
He sniffed it once, then gave a low grunt.
“This is not raktajino.”
“No,” Lachlan said dryly. “But it’s hot, it’s real, and it’s no’ trying to kill you. Best offer you’re gettin’ for the next five minutes.”
Korrath stared at him for another beat, then gave the smallest huff through his nose. Not quite amusement. Not far from it.
Without another word, he stepped into the cell, mug in hand, shoulders still squared like he was entering a battlefield rather than a holding room.
Lachlan waited until he was inside before glancing to Luna.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
"You're welcome." Was Luna's reply as the force Shield went up.
She took another look towards Korrath, gave a slight shake of her head, at what he may have endured.
"He endured, with honor." Luna commented, then turned her gaze towards Lachlan
"And thank you. I felt that you had things well in hand. And I can see that the two of you went through something rough."
A pause."It is good that your officer was brought back. Never good when someone has been taken down." the woman said thoughtfully.
Luna then smiled, "Nemo Resideo a latin phrase which fits here, Leave no one behind. One that military most often has kept along with those who are out there protecting others."
A cup of coffee, Luna wanted a cup of coffee herself, and walked over to get her own. Pouring one she then turned to pull up a seat, to enjoy her coffee.
Lachlan let the forcefield settle before he looked away from Korrath. The Klingon had the coffee now and the cell, for the moment, had gone quiet. That was enough. Quiet was a blessing when people were tired, bleeding, and one bad word away from making everything harder.
He listened to Luna, then gave a small nod.
“Aye,” he said. “He fought his way back to himself. That’s what matters.”
He didn’t dress it up more than that. Korrath did not need pity wrapped in polite words, and Lachlan doubted he would thank anyone for it.
At the mention of his officer, Lachlan’s expression tightened for a second before smoothing out again. He looked down into the mug, then took a long drink of coffee. It was hot, strong, and real enough to bite at the back of his throat.
“The Major’s alive,” he said at last. “That’s the important part. Doctor Zuub can decide how many pieces he’s in once she’s finished glaring at the scans.”
There was a thin edge of humour there, but it didn’t quite get far. Not yet.
He took another drink, slower this time, letting the warmth sit in his chest.
“Leave no one behind,” he said, with a faint nod. “Aye. Doesn’t need perfect Latin for me to understand it.”
His gaze flicked once toward the cell, then back to Luna.
“And you handled this well. Orders are orders, but there’s still a way to carry them out.” He lifted the mug slightly. “Coffee helps too.” he added downing the rest of the mug and setting it down.
A smile, a lift of her own cup towards Lachlan, Luna's gaze went back to Korrath, "Security doesn't have to be cruel or dishonorable. Or undiplomatic. I hope that whatever happens both you and Korrath can go back to your lives with honor."
Her eyes went back to Lachlan, "Both you and Korrath do need some food, and as for Dr. Zuub, she'll get the major awake and functional. " taking another drink, Luna st the mug down, upon the small table.
"I'll send for some food, its the least I can do. " Luna reaching for her PADD.
She noted the care the marine had given to the Klingon. Luna was also concerned as to what the fate as to this klingon as well as Lachlan were concerned.
This was an intelligence ship and what it dealt with was classified.. still though, there still needed to be compassion as well. Oh what tangled webs that have become evident.
Lachlan gave a small nod at the offer of food.
“Aye. Food would be appreciated.”
He left the rest alone. Luna meant well, and that was plain enough. There was no use sanding every word down until it fit what Korrath would understand. The Klingon was behind the field now, drinking coffee that wasn’t raktajino and pretending that counted as suffering. For the moment, that was peace.
Lachlan shifted slightly, feeling the pull in his shoulder and the ache in his throat now that the rush was beginning to thin out. He ignored both.
“He speaks through me until Command says otherwise,” he said. “He helped us. Doesn’t clear him, but it does matter.”
His eyes flicked once toward the cell.
“And I’ll take whatever food you can spare, but I need to check on my people after that. Merrick, Quaid, the others. We came back in pieces.”
A faint, dry edge touched his mouth.
“Doctor Zuub can decide whether I’m one of them once she’s finished with the ones who actually need her.”
He turned slightly toward Korrath.
“Stay put, big man. I’ll be back.”
Then Lachlan headed for the doors before his body got too convincing about sitting down.
Giving a nod towards Lachlan,
"Take care." Luna giving a quiet farewell. "He won't be mistreated."
She lifted up her own coffee to take another drink from her mug. Now it was waiting time to find out the fate of the Klingon.
A Joint Post By:
Sergeant Major Lachlan Barr
Chief of the Boat/First Sergeant, The Cure
USS Pioneer
Petty Officer 1st Class Luna Barto
Security
USS Valiant
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