Entry tags:
Star Trek XI, "Lager, Never Even Regal," Uhura and Gaila friendship, PG-13
Title: "Lager, Never Even Regal"
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing/Characters: Uhura and Gaila, mentions of Kirk
Rating: PG-13 for language(s) and hints at dark themes
Summary: As far as Nyota's concerned, nobody gets to tell Gaila where she does and doesn't belong.
AN: Written for a prompt on the Where_No_Woman Palindrome Drabblefest, and also, obvs, for![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
minoanmiss.
Nyota slammed the empty bottle of Budweiser down on the bar, and immediately motioned for another round. Gaila looked at her with skeptical eyebrows.
"We are having another round," said Nyota, her voice precise and controlled. Nyota's hair was coiled on top of her head in hundreds of little braids, and they felt tight and heavy against her skull, and she hoped that one more American Classic would make her feel less like every part of her was tightly wound up. Her short strapless dress wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, either, but it had to be less of a pain than Gaila's jewel-encrusted bikini top and multilayered silky skirt. Say what you will about Orions, they know how to dress for a black-tie occasion. Most of the guys in the dingy little campus watering hole seemed unsure how to respond to two beautiful, angry women in evening wear -- they kept checking them out, but out of the corners of their eyes.
"Thanks for everything, Ny, but I -- " Gaila's face crumpled a little bit for the second time tonight, but this time it dissolved into an embarrassed smile. "I don't actually know how you can stand this stuff. Look:" she held up her bottle, which was still almost full, and shrugged an apology. "It tastes like water from the wrong side of a dam."
Nyota laughed. "I know, okay? But I practically grew up on cheap lager. Back in my hometown in the Bantu province, there's... well, it's a dive bar, but outdoors. Ceiling fans, music playing from a boombox, umbrellas in everything... and cheap pitchers, obviously. I had a cousin who was a football player, a goalie for the city team, and the rest of us would all go to their games, and then go to the bar afterward and get one of those pitchers and talk trash about the team that beat them."
"I'm not sure that I understand."
"I'm not sure I do, either." Nyota took a swig of her beer. "I just thought that it would be nice to think about being in my tank top and cut-offs, in a shitty outdoor bar on a hot day, instead of at some overrated circle jerk glorified high school awards night --"
"But it was such a pretty party." Gaila frowned. "It really was. Champagne and everything. And I had to go and screw it up for all of --"
Nyota cut her off with a couple of choice words of Klingon. "Don't you dare. I wanted you there. And everyone else did, too. The gala was supposed to be in honor of the crew of the Enterprise, and the crew of the Enterprise -- madre de dios, the Captain of the Enterprise -- wanted you there with us. I still can't believe those g'bila security guys dared to say you didn't belong at the head table with us bridge crew."
"Nyota. Your Standard --"
"God, I'm sorry, I go all multilingual when I'm worked up."
"It's okay. But Nyota, I didn't belong at that table. You were the heroes. I wasn't there. I didn't help. I don't know how I ever thought I deserved to sit up there."
"Bullshit. What you went through on the Farragut was harder than anything any of us did -- yes, even Captain Kirk. You were all alone, and you survived, and for so long you must have thought that you'd lost us, too. I thought I'd lost you. And even before that, the things you've survived to get here, to Starfleet -- I won't let anyone tell you you're not a hero. Just because you aren't the face on all the holoscreens. How damn shallow can people be?"
"Thank you, but ... you guys saved the world."
"We got lucky. I mean, sort of. If you'd been assigned to the ship, you'd have saved the world, too. And you'd be up there -- " Nyota pulled out her comm and checked the time -- "right about now, standing up there on the podium listening to Kirk giving his acceptance speech."
Gaila cracked another smile, and took a tentative sip of her beer. She barely made a face this time. "On that thought, maybe I'm glad we left."
"Watch your mouth! I wrote that speech," Nyota mock-scolded, unable to keep a straight face.
"You did not!"
"Fine, but I did proofread extensively. And rephrased a few key sections."
Gaila watched Nyota's face as the muscles around her eyes started to finally release their tension. She put a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Nyota?"
"Yes?"
"Do I have to drink the rest of this?"
Nyota tried once again to look serious. "If you want me to buy you a decent drink next, then yeah, you have to at least finish the first bottle. Those are the rules."
Gaila sighed. "The champagne looked so nice and bubbly."
"Yeah, but I'd rather drink dam water with you."
"I guess," said Gaila, "I might as well drink to that."
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing/Characters: Uhura and Gaila, mentions of Kirk
Rating: PG-13 for language(s) and hints at dark themes
Summary: As far as Nyota's concerned, nobody gets to tell Gaila where she does and doesn't belong.
AN: Written for a prompt on the Where_No_Woman Palindrome Drabblefest, and also, obvs, for
minoanmiss.Nyota slammed the empty bottle of Budweiser down on the bar, and immediately motioned for another round. Gaila looked at her with skeptical eyebrows.
"We are having another round," said Nyota, her voice precise and controlled. Nyota's hair was coiled on top of her head in hundreds of little braids, and they felt tight and heavy against her skull, and she hoped that one more American Classic would make her feel less like every part of her was tightly wound up. Her short strapless dress wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, either, but it had to be less of a pain than Gaila's jewel-encrusted bikini top and multilayered silky skirt. Say what you will about Orions, they know how to dress for a black-tie occasion. Most of the guys in the dingy little campus watering hole seemed unsure how to respond to two beautiful, angry women in evening wear -- they kept checking them out, but out of the corners of their eyes.
"Thanks for everything, Ny, but I -- " Gaila's face crumpled a little bit for the second time tonight, but this time it dissolved into an embarrassed smile. "I don't actually know how you can stand this stuff. Look:" she held up her bottle, which was still almost full, and shrugged an apology. "It tastes like water from the wrong side of a dam."
Nyota laughed. "I know, okay? But I practically grew up on cheap lager. Back in my hometown in the Bantu province, there's... well, it's a dive bar, but outdoors. Ceiling fans, music playing from a boombox, umbrellas in everything... and cheap pitchers, obviously. I had a cousin who was a football player, a goalie for the city team, and the rest of us would all go to their games, and then go to the bar afterward and get one of those pitchers and talk trash about the team that beat them."
"I'm not sure that I understand."
"I'm not sure I do, either." Nyota took a swig of her beer. "I just thought that it would be nice to think about being in my tank top and cut-offs, in a shitty outdoor bar on a hot day, instead of at some overrated circle jerk glorified high school awards night --"
"But it was such a pretty party." Gaila frowned. "It really was. Champagne and everything. And I had to go and screw it up for all of --"
Nyota cut her off with a couple of choice words of Klingon. "Don't you dare. I wanted you there. And everyone else did, too. The gala was supposed to be in honor of the crew of the Enterprise, and the crew of the Enterprise -- madre de dios, the Captain of the Enterprise -- wanted you there with us. I still can't believe those g'bila security guys dared to say you didn't belong at the head table with us bridge crew."
"Nyota. Your Standard --"
"God, I'm sorry, I go all multilingual when I'm worked up."
"It's okay. But Nyota, I didn't belong at that table. You were the heroes. I wasn't there. I didn't help. I don't know how I ever thought I deserved to sit up there."
"Bullshit. What you went through on the Farragut was harder than anything any of us did -- yes, even Captain Kirk. You were all alone, and you survived, and for so long you must have thought that you'd lost us, too. I thought I'd lost you. And even before that, the things you've survived to get here, to Starfleet -- I won't let anyone tell you you're not a hero. Just because you aren't the face on all the holoscreens. How damn shallow can people be?"
"Thank you, but ... you guys saved the world."
"We got lucky. I mean, sort of. If you'd been assigned to the ship, you'd have saved the world, too. And you'd be up there -- " Nyota pulled out her comm and checked the time -- "right about now, standing up there on the podium listening to Kirk giving his acceptance speech."
Gaila cracked another smile, and took a tentative sip of her beer. She barely made a face this time. "On that thought, maybe I'm glad we left."
"Watch your mouth! I wrote that speech," Nyota mock-scolded, unable to keep a straight face.
"You did not!"
"Fine, but I did proofread extensively. And rephrased a few key sections."
Gaila watched Nyota's face as the muscles around her eyes started to finally release their tension. She put a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Nyota?"
"Yes?"
"Do I have to drink the rest of this?"
Nyota tried once again to look serious. "If you want me to buy you a decent drink next, then yeah, you have to at least finish the first bottle. Those are the rules."
Gaila sighed. "The champagne looked so nice and bubbly."
"Yeah, but I'd rather drink dam water with you."
"I guess," said Gaila, "I might as well drink to that."