Tarik was, uncharacteristically, nervous as he approached Troy. But he was a firm believer in going to the best possible experts for advice on any topic, and he knew of none better for this one.
Troy was at the bar at Soma, as usual, getting ready to set up for the evening rush. He saw Tarik. "Hey, stranger! Don't see you here much anymore!"
"Things have been... busy," Tarik said. He really didn't want to embroil Troy in the exact nature of his business of late. Troy would be better off for the lack. "I came to you to ask your help."
"You asking me for help?" Troy said in jest. But he saw the expression on Tarik's face. "What do you need?"
"I have been asked to set up a bachelor party for Garek Loran. I have no idea what I am doing."
Troy was silent for a moment. "You've never set up a bachelor party?"
"I was raised on Vulcan, remember? It's not like the topic comes up rather frequently. And I've not been invited to many weddings since entering the service."
"I see your point. Well, my friend, you've come to the right place," Troy said, stepping from behind the bar.; "What you want is an event replete with as much bacchanalia and obnoxiousness as you can possibly muster."
"But after Deveraux makes his appearance, then what?"
Troy laughed. "Oh, we can do much, much, much better than that!"
The guest list for the party was tremendous. Nearly every male or non-gendered Starfleet officer of note was in attendance, as well as several station merchants. Soma was unable to accomodate the gathering, so a large all-purpose meeting room had been commandeered by Tarik for the party.
A call to the Moulin Bleu had yielded a dozen cabaret girls to serve drinks and perform dance routines. In exchange for offense to both parties, Tarik was able to get both the Pony Express and the Klingon musicians to play the party (although he made sure that they set up well in advance of one another). Some work with an industrial replicator had created a sedan chair, for which Hans and Franz from Muscle Beach had rounded up four bearers. It was the sedan chair that bore Garek Loran into the festivities.
Tarik started the singing. "For he's a jolly good fellow! For he's a jolly good fellow!" Troy, Paul, and the rest of the ringleaders continued the singing as the chair entered the room. The bearers sat it down before a huge cake placed in the center of the room. When the song entered its final chorus, the cake burst open. Garek grinned in anticipation of what was about to emerge.
What did emerge was not a scantily-clad dancer but the MacDonnell's clown, clad in black lingerie. "We told Kim we would not get you into too much trouble!" Tarik said as the crowd had a laugh at Garek's expense.
Just as Garek was ready to rise from the sedan chair and give Tarik a piece of his mind, someone else emerged from the cake. A green humanoid clad in arabesque clothing, dancing an erotic dance as she advanced toward Garek. "Now this is more like it!" Garek yelled as the whole room cheered.
The Orion dancing girl stepped free of the fake cake and began her dance routine in the center of the room, bumping and grinding against the soon-to- be-married Garek repeatedly. Garek regretted coming to the party in the tight- fitting Starfleet uniform, as did most of the males in the room.
At the end of the dance, she removed her tiara and placed it squarely on Garek's head, then prostrated herself before him. The crowd cheered wildly, chanting "Go! Go! Go! Go!"
Garek stood up, approached the dancer, and knelt down to her level. "I suppose this crown means that I'm king for the evening, eh?"
"Anything you desire, O Great One!" the dancer replied. The crowd cheered hysterically.
"Arise, and approach!" Garek said with mock gravity. The dancer stood up, and walked toward Garek. Garek grabbed her, took her into a low dip, and kissed her passionately on the mouth. "I'm afraid that'll have to do for now!" he said as the crowd started hooting.
"Well, eef you aren't going to give ze lady what she wants, zhen Ah'm going to!" Paul said as he emerged from the crowd and took the dancer by the waist. The crowd cheered once more as Garek headed to the bar, flanked by two other dancers—his attendants for the evening.
At the bar, Eugene Loomis was working as bartender. "I see you're doing quite well tonight!" he commented as he drew Garek a beer.
"Couldn't have it better—well, I could, but I probably shouldn't be saying that!" he said has he took the beverage.
"Oh, come on! This is your last night of freedom! Live it up!" Troy said from the opposite side of the bar.
"But what about Kim?"
"What she don't know, won't hurt her. Nothing that happens in here will ever go past these doors!"
"Oh. Well, that's different, then!" Garek said as he put his arms around the two ladies. "Let's make something happen then, shall we?" he told them. They smiled as the three walked off.
"He was always so quiet. Never knew he had it in him," Troy said, shaking his head as the two of them rolled out a keg for the beer-drinking contest.
Meanwhile, Garek had returned to the dance floor, dirty-dancing between the two dancers he'd walked to the bar with. The beer-drinking contest had started, but he didn't notice. He didn't want to notice at the moment, even after Paul Deveraux had tried to match a Klingon drink for drink and ended up throwing up all over the place.
"Okay, that's enough for you!" Troy said as he and Tarik walked Paul to the door.
"But Ah waz jes' getting warmed up!" Paul protested.
"Save it for the next party! Mr. Sandoval, would you walk this gentleman to his quarters?"
"Absolutely," Jayson—the party's unofficial bouncer—said. "Ryan, watch my back for a minute."
Meanwhile, Hartman had taken over Troy's place at the bar, flaring bottles dramatically as he mixed drink after drink. "You are a man of many talents, Gunny!" Tarik told him as he ordered a bottle of Saurian brandy.
"Sir, that's why they pay me the big bucks!"
Garek had been joined on the dance floor by several other parties. Rick of El Taco had arrived in dress uniform gaudy with epaulets and gold braid befitting his office of manager. He'd managed to end up with a dancer in each arm. "You've got yourself a lovely lady, there," he told Garek.
"Oh, yes, Mystera here is quite a dancer!"
"I meant Kim. You treat her right, you hear? Or you'll have to answer to me!"
"I'll keep that in mind!" Garek said with a smile, wondering what the dashingly handsome fast food manager had had with Kim.
Laughter broke out in another corner of the party, as a loud Scottish voice could be heard. "Och! You cheeky little girl! Ye deserve a spankin' for that!" Angus Macgyver said as a dancer reached up under his kilt.
"So, it is true!" the dancer commented with a smile.
The party broke up several hours later, with the last participants staggering (or occasionally carried) off to their quarters. Tarik expected lots of absenteeism the next day; it had been good that they'd planned it for the end of the week.
His clothing askew, his eyes bleary, he staggered back to his and Kassia's quarters. She'd waited up for him.
"Have a good time?" she asked skeptically.
"Are you kidding? You know how much work these damn things are?"