<div class="floatright"> (http://i627.photobucket.com/albums/tt357/Niferbelle/klingon3.jpg)</div><strong>Navarro Tavern</strong><br/><br/>Jak stepped neatly aside as the injured Klingon was hefted into her path and glared at the back of that behemoth Primus that had put him there as he disappeared back into the tavern.  She growled softly in exasperation then entered just behind him, drifting toward the bar as he took his seat with the raucous Nausicaans. Despite the prominent forehead ridge that marked her, her gait was less Klingon swagger and more the stalking stride of a big cat and her figure a touch more lithe than would be expected from a Klingon woman, things that marked her as a pariah in Klingon society at large though certainly through the affiliation with the House of Navarro her situation had much improved. She sat at the bar and pivoted in the stool, resting back in her elbows as she surveyed the room, not certain what she was looking for but suspecting it wouldn't be found here. She'd been restless of late and taking time off had only exacerbated the feeling -- she should have known she was far better off with her mind and time occupied.<br/><br/>She ordered a bloodwine and watched Tisha, amused at her attempt to win over the muscle bound augment though she didn't give it much a chance of success.<br/>