<div class="floatleft">(http://i44.tinypic.com/34826u8.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Kitala Oragh<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Bridge<br/><strong>Time:</strong>Day one<br/><br/>Sighing and taking one more gulp from the bloodwine, Kitara folded her arms over each other and looked Kirk in the eye, her first intentions had been nothing but friendly ones but now that she saw the "nasty little human" in front of her, she just wanted to squeeze his throat shut, but suppressed her instinctive Klingon warrior senses and just breathed out somewhat more heavily, reminding herself of the fact that he<em>was</em>, as a matter of fact, placed higher in rank than she was. Having pictured this crew to be like her old one, she felt homesick. Homesick for her old life, where she was still under command of the funny Picard, the witty Riker and had her uncle Worf to guide her through the day. Adjusting herself to the customs of other spaceships had never gone quite as smoothly as it should and lead to a lot of bad decisions made in the heat of her inner fight. She longed for her old life where she was respected and where people understood her way of thinking, where people didn't get offended by her loud speaking as they knew, back then, that she was only enthusiastical and that it was something that happened to Klingons when they were feeling happy. Just when she thought she'd get the flask back to her chestpocket, she spilled some on Kirk's shirt, her eyes widening as she knew now that she was in deep trouble. Her heart pulsated heavily and her hands were shaking as she realised what she had done, trying to apologise but being too late for that.