Patient Zero (Star Trek /w EtherealElvenEmpress & Friendly Allien)

[Friendly Allien]

Lieutenant Moro'ka did not forsee these turn of events. He was a klingon warrior with many awards and honours to his name. Skirmishes with Romulans had him send the few survivors he allowed to live back to Romulus with wounds for life. Border disputes with the Gorn earned him many good scars to show, and a commission. Someone noticed when he cleared a room of Gorn Marines single-handed in a boarding action.

Maybe he was younger and more alert back then. Maybe it was even the easy living with the humans on the Starfleet vessel USS Linnaeus. It was a Centaur-class destroyer - nothing outrageously dangerous but a 'plucky little ship' as her captain had put it - and Moro'ka knew to respect any warship of any size, but he still felt that if he raised his voice to the right people, he could be transferred to something with a little more weight... But decided to stay and see what it had to offer.

Maybe that was the sign he was growing soft? A lack of ambition and glory-seeking? No. Some things even the keenest of eyes and sharpest of hearts could not predict. He was assigned Head of Security onboard the Linnaeus, and followed a small group to explore a planet at the fringes of explored space, and had handled the artefact which gave off a small energy signature. The ruins on the planet were centuries old, so it would fetch the attention of Federation grave tenders and tomb robbers. Or so he imagined. Klingons cared little for the ruins of other civilizations, let alone the dead husks within them.

But it was only after it, along with the away team, had been beamed up was it discovered it was a failing storage device that was harboring a biological pathogen. They were hastily put into quarantine. Thankfully, however, they could be put into their private quarters. Him having officer's quarters, it was decided to minimize risk of contagion to share with another officer.

He had earned his rank through blood and violence. She, on the other hand, was not of noble blood but still attained an equal officer's rank to his by attending an officer's academy. If the Federation did things that way, then that was their business, but it was still an odd way of doing things that felt less honourable than what he was used to.

The fact she was half his age and half his size also had something to do with it. He was sure she couldn't even best a Ferengi child in single combat if it came to it.

As he paced around in the main room, he thought to himself in an attempt at lifting his spirits at appealing to his vanity that maybe this why the officer's exchange programme between the Klingon Empire and the Federation had klingon warriors be sent to Starfleet - to give them REAL warriors to learn from!

Moro'ka grunted at that thought, wondering how much honour there was in discovering new viruses. Maybe he should break into the MedBay and aid the doctor in finding a cure. Another medal to pin to his chest. Maybe it would be named after him. Moro'ka Syndrome? Moro'ka Cold? Bah!

He did not feel like he had a cold however. He did feel warm. Pacing back and forth in the ostentatious room, he was feeling... Restless. Anxious maybe. No. He had an excess of energy, probably as a consequence of not having been in battle for months. He held his hands in front of himself and tensed the fingerless gloves and braces with a slow flex that made the leather groan. They were fastened well. He still wore his armour, he realized. Being in quarantine away from any active warzone, he knew from experience he could do well to not constantly have his armour and uniform on. He moved the black - with a few strands of grey in it - curly hair back and began to unstrap his chest piece and shoulder pads.

His thoughts - for some reason - went to the small and soft human female in his bedroom. She excused herself, not feeling well, and needed rest. Human constitution was not something he put much stock in, and she confirmed it. But she was still a crewmember and a fellow officer. Moro'ka grunted to himself, and figured he could see how she was faring and be on her case and prevent her from succumbing to weakness at the same time. A warrior or not, she was am officer, and she needed to act like it!

Making his way to the door with heavy determined steps, he did not bother to knock or announce his entry.

 

[Friendly Allien]

Chief Medic Sanna Lik. He wasn't sure what words to use to describe her in a polite manner, but klingons did not 'do' polite. She was small and short, but not boney or wry with muscle. Instead she was... plump? Chubby? Moro'ka stood behind her and observed quietly, not much unlike a predator keeping an eye on potential prey. He had heard similar observations from other klingon warriors having to move around weak humans, especially those weakrr by their standards.

"If I had still been let to man my post, Chief Medical Officer Sanna Lik, then all the infected would have been confined to the MedBay and all possible infected would have been locked in their quarters." He began to speak like a teacher addressing an uppity child. Then he walked closer, hands held low and clenched.
"I do not agree with the captain's decision to cordon off quarter of an entire deck. It is a waste of space."

Moro'ka put himself immediately to her right, standing like a towering giant with his 210 centimeters of height and muscle to match a man of his position and ability in the klingon imperial navy.
His eyes scanned the instruments ahead of them both. He grabbed any at random, and held it up for inspection. He would not admit that he was feeling agitated, for if that was the case, he would have identified a cause. At that instant, he had not, and he did not consider it to be a symptom of the pathogen in the ship.

He stood so closs that his leg touched her arm, and he was showing a remarkable disregard for personal space.
"What do we know of this contagion?" He spoke with his low and deep tone of voice, closing one and squinting another to discern a use of the small machine in his fingers. It was bad enough it was medical equipment, but also of Federation make.

 

[Friendly Allien]

Moro'ka raised his eyebrows at the spitfire. With the instrument in his hand still, he slowly turned around with his dark eyes locked at her, and began to cross his arms over his chest.

"Such fire in a little woman, Doctor Lik. I am glad to see the allies of the klingon empire has some strength." Then he glanced up and down her body. "Of spirit, at least."

He did not respond to her telling him to leave. "I am here to assist. This virus is an enemy to be defeated. A warrior shirks not from any enemy, no matter the size." The klingon grinned at his own brand of comedy, but found himself looking at her. She was small, and he was not one to be attracted to weak females, it was something about her that screamed a different kind of weakness.
Or maybe he just found himself entertaining the fantasy of begging her. And from that angle, his tall height and her small height, he stared at her bosom and imagined his hands on them. And his mouth. His tongue.

 

[Friendly Allien]

He grinned wider when she insisted to be someone not to mess with. Very well, if sh said so. Far be it from him to be the one to shatter her notions of grandeur.
But she did have an air of authority he did not respect. Typical for him, where authority came from the tip of a cruel blade and out of the barrel of a disruptor pistol.

Moro'ka nodded. "I can enter data. I served as Tactical Officer for some time. Entering targeting data will not be different than this." In a way he was right, but not completely. He would manage, however.

And as he listened to her he found her attempts at leading to be as humerous as it was... Arousing? Odd. He found himself not saying much when she insisted she was of superior rank, of that he disagreed - but he waa not going to argue out of stupid arrogance to argue for arguing's sake when she WAS the Chief Medic.

The klingon then handed the instrument over to Lik, perhaps as some gesture of truce, when a brief fantasy again surfaced into his mind, pinning her to the wall while he ground against her rear and back while covering her mouth with his hand.
Hm. Odd fantasy.

"It is Lieutenant Moro'ka."

 

[Friendly Allien]

"Few are familiar, but it is not difficult to learn." He didn't speak too much, and instead washed his hands and broight gloves on his hands. It was awkard with his uniform, or what was left of it, and inatead removed the arms of his outfit as they were sewn to be removable. This, however, revealed his very toned muscldd physique more. He felt warm anyway, and the glistening quality to his skin might reveal he was running a bit hot.

Moro'ka listened to her reasoning and it was sound. He put it himself into a military perspective. Identification, isolation, neutralization. "That is sound." He muttered, and did not find his answers to be so wordy - and that was by klingon standards!

He did not object to the request. He did however reach oit a hand for support, and if she did get close, or had to stand on her little tippy toes to reach, he would place his warm, and very large hand on her lower back, just above the curvature of her... Pronounced posterior.

 

[Friendly Allien]

Moro'ka felt a warmth of excitement rush through his body when she moved that close, and feeling her body in his hand was different than how he had touched women before. It was soft. She felt soft and fragile. He was used to a woman approaching him, and bite him in the face to announce her interest. He had heard Cardassian women became arrogant and postured when they had a man in their eyes. Who knew what Vulkans did if they even could enjoy physical intimacy.

Humans, he had heard, were difficult. He had no qualms bedding a fellow officer - though it could cause complications later. Maybe she was being coy? He sniffed the air between them and he knew she was tense. Letting his hand slowly wander ever so slightly lower, going over the crest of her buttcheek and letting his fingertips naturally finding the curvature of her body, sinking slightly between her cheeks.

"And besides entering data..." His voice had slowly turned into a much lower and rumbling, vibrating almost deep exhale. He leaned in to her, having his head above her, and gently guided her lower body closer to his. Had not the handing of the instrument infected her, if she was already not somehow, this close contact would probably do so.

"What do you need, Chief Medical Officer... Sanna Lik?"

 

[Friendly Allien]

Her resistance was ignored. His voice lingered as a low rumbling growl, and his hand pushed more on her rear, going so far as giving her a squeeze. A genuine needy grope, cupping the entire cheek with his large and powerful hand.
Her objection was just her being coy and playful. He knew Feddration women would pretend to be uninterested, the stigma of females choosing men carelessly was universal it would seem. He had to prove he was a powerful mate.

Oh, he could overpower her easily. It would have been so easy to grab her by the neck and move her exactly where he needed her. Moro'ka decided to try and be romantic.
Moving hia left foot forward, he pulled her closer, forcing her to straddle his leg and feel her groin grind against his thigh and knee.

"Is that the only reason you are saying no? It is inappropriate? There is noone here. Only you and me. Nobody will walk in on us doing the things that come naturally to a male and a female. I can smell your needs." He leaned even closer, his face inches above her head.
"They are strong needs."