Kira, her forehead adorned with ridged prosthetics and a deep maroon sash slung across her shoulder, leans against a life-sized Starship Enterprise display. Beside her, Jorath, equally fierce in full Klingon regalia, gestures animatedly. "You should have seen me try to explain bloodwine to a barista. She thought I was speaking another language—well, I was!" "Next time, bring me along. I’ll order in Klingon and see if they hand us coffee or call security."

"So, did you actually get a second date?" "Of course! Turns out she found my Klingon serenade ‘endearing’—though she did Google it later to make sure I wasn’t cursing her family." "Success! Soon you’ll need to learn romantic Vulcan phrases."

Milo[/@ch_3] and Pip—amble by, their feet padded with furry slippers and ears pointed beneath curly wigs. Elven brooches gleam on their green cloaks as they navigate the crowd, clutching copies of The Silmarillion.] "Edhellen lîn aphada, Pip. Look at those two nerds speaking Klingon, a completely made up language." "Yeah. What losers," he responds in a melodic Elvish, his eyes rolling dramatically as they sidestep a group of stormtroopers.

Kira overhears the Elvish quip, her eyebrows lifting in amusement. "Did you just hear that? The hobbits think Klingon is ‘made up’. As if Elvish isn’t!" "Maybe we should challenge them to a language duel—winner gets bragging rights and a free copy of the Universal Translator app."

"Honestly, we’re all here for the same reason. I bet they’re just as passionate about Star Trek as we are about Tolkien." "Maybe next year we’ll learn Klingon. Or they’ll try Elvish, just to see what it’s like."

"To new adventures—and maybe a few new languages," "Qapla’! Or should I say, Namárië?"