“I will not just tell you, Ferengi, I will show you!” Rurj’ stood Runt next to his companion and gave his shoulders a stiff clap, then stepped back as Ang re-entered the room with a heavy roll of fabric in his hands.
“First,” said Ang, “An introduction is in order. This is Rurj’, son of the house of Q’url and tea ceremony master.”
Rurj’ bowed to his guests.
“I’m Ang, practitioner of Earth’s Urasenke school of Chadou as well as kang-hu tê.”
Ang kept his hands on the roll of fabric as he regarded his guests with an expectant look.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Hollis tried to give his most genuine look. Truth be told, the Ferengi was really intrigued by what’s at hand. He was just more concerned with a certain cat’s temper. “Lieutenant Hollis. USS Okinawa. This is Lieutenant Junior Grade M’Hark.”
“Hi.” Is all Runt said as he crossed his arms, scowling at everything laid out. Hollis rolled his eyes in response.
“Ignore him. He’s in a mood. Thank you for having us! What, uh. . .is all this, if I may ask?” Hollis adjusted his com badge, glancing over at Rurj’. “It looks like a lot of preparation.”
“It is the first part of the ritual!” Rurj’ nodded to Ang, and Ang finally unrolled the fabric to reveal a dozen different knives and blades.
“One may not participate in the tea ceremony unarmed,” said Rurj’. “Phasers are inappropriate to the ceremony, so if you are not carrying your own bladed weapon, then you may borrow the one that pleases you the most!”
Ang’s smile quirked a bit as the guests reacted to the weapons, but he kept from laughing outright. “Tell me, do you know of any tea ceremonies practiced on Cait or Ferenginar?” he asked politely.
“Bladed, huh?” Hollis’s smile flickered for a second as he took a step back. The mention of potential combat had him nervous. Runt, on the other hand, had notably gained interest at the potential of a scuffle. “Right. Klingon. Uh, I mean—we have some more dubious rituals with tea ceremonies on Ferenginar. Involves stealing money.”
“We have some passing of the torch stuff in my village.” Runt eyed the two wearily. “But nothing substantial.”
“All tea art is substantial!” said Rurj’, smiling at Runt. “If not honorable,” he added, throwing a nod and a shrug towards Hollis. “Now: choose your weapons!”
Hollis wearily glanced over at Rurj’ and Runt, before his eyes snaped back to Ang. The Ferengi’s face scrunched into a worried expression as he took a far step back from the weapons laid out across the table.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Hollis whispered to his fellow officer. “I’ve heard the joke about an angry Klingon and Caitian, and the punchline isn’t exactly a great one.”
Ang nodded absently. “I think the joke loses something in translation. But not to worry: the tea will soothe out all the kinks. Now what about your weapon?”
After eyeing Hollis for a moment, Ang selected a sling blade and handed it to him, handle-first. “Not too dissimilar from a surveyor’s brush axe on Ferenginar.”
“Haha..” Hollis held up his hands, giving a nervous smile. “I don’t need one of those. I, uh. Can do the non-fighting part!”
“FACE ME IF YOU DARE, KLINGON!” Runt suddenly hollered, brandishing a bladed staff that was far too unwieldy for him. “I CHALLENGE YOU TO BATTLE! OR…whatever this is!”
A look of ecstatic joy appeared briefly on Rurj’s face, part of him always ready for battle. But then his stance relaxed, and he chuckled softly to himself while nodding slightly to Ang.
Ang appeared at Runt’s side, swiftly setting the unwieldy blade off balance so that it clattered to the floor. “We do not wield the blades until the ceremony has started,” he said to Runt, offering him a more Runt-sized bladed staff. “Now, would you two kindly join us in the hearth room so that we might begin?”
