Stardate 2365.02.08 (Monday - 42136.2)
USS Peregrine ; Deck 5; "The Aerie," Tochi and Asovil's table - 16:17

"Anyway," Tochi grins a more sheepish than wicked expression, having feigned a surveillance of the room before letting his gaze frame her, once more, "What, were we saying?"

"You were speaking about Dirven's auspicious Risa memories and playboy mannerisms," Asovil reminds him without so much as a hesitation. Forking a cooling piece of chicken into her mouth, the Andorian puts a hand up to cover her lips as she speaks around the food, the thought just popping into her head. "We are to wear bells to the reception tonight?"

Tochi blinks, his brows knitting in momentary confusion and Asovil wonders if she has once again muddled something up. The befuddled expression morphs into a slow smile and he chuckles a bit.

"Oh," the Trill says, shaking his head, "No, not actual bells. It's an old Terran expression. We're not precisely sure of the origins of the phrase, but it's intended to indicate that we'll happily attend."

"Terrans have far too many expressions to keep track of," she frowns in thought. "Perhaps someone should program the universal translators to take into consideration such idioms."

Grinning, Tochi arches a brow, "You really haven't spent much time in the company of humans, have you?"

"I've been with Starfleet for four Earth years," the Andorian replies with a pained expression. "Prior to that, I did not spend time around Terrans. I find them a bit like Romulans, to be honest. Most are pretentious and desire to be respected for their intellectual and physical accomplishments while enforcing a highly human view of things on the whole of the Federation. The Prime Directive tempers this indulgence somewhat, and there are humans I have encountered who are kind, caring individuals that seem to have somehow managed to exceed the limitations of their species," Asovil trails off as she considers what she's just said. "My experiences are very limited, yes. And I am pleased to be serving within Starfleet so that I may grow in my knowledge of the Terran races and their behaviors. I am, perhaps, not truly qualified to deliver such a profound analysis."

(OOC: further discussion as is appropriate,)

"But we digress from more entertaining subject matter!" the beautiful blue Andorian proclaims, setting her utensils across the plate to indicate her completion of the meal.

",Right," the Trill grins in response to Asovil's prompting, "Dervin and his embarrassing tale.

Well, as we told you, some of our best memories of Risa come from him, and that's probably due to the fact that he visited the place quite often. His lascivious nature was a contributing factor, to be sure, but, more than that, it was the beauty of the planet, itself, that called him back time and time again; the certainty that he'd be able to find some lovely little thing with whom he could, ahem, enjoy that beauty was, typically, just an added bonus. Now, we say typically because, a good portion of the man's dalliances were just that, brief flings that ignited quickly, burned hot, and then flickered out in a matter of weeks or days, but there was one woman that we can say Dirven fell madly in love with and, in his attempts to woo her, is where we find an embarrassing moment that may come close to matching yours."

"I'll be the judge of that, Tochi," Asovil smiles. Her heart rate since the captain's departure has begun to return to normal and she finds herself enjoying the Trill's company again.

Tochi sips at his juice, then, and smiles as he continues, "Her name was Talla and he met her at Temtibi Bay. We think he was initially drawn to her, not just because of her beauty, but because he had never seen an Andorian enjoying the warmth of the Risan suns the way she seemed to be." The scientist's eyebrows climbed her forehead and her antennae twitched at the revelation. "To him," the XO continues. "There was something undefinably magical in her very presence on that beach, and he was smitten with her just as quickly as he was inspired," the Trill chuckles at that, adding, "And it was really quickly. We think he had the first three verses of Blue on the Bay written before he had so much as introduced himself.

"At any rate, Talla wasn't as instantly impressed by Dirven's charms and musical talents as many of his previous paramours were—"

"Oh, come," Asovil laughs lightly at the retelling. "Surely Dirven's charm succeeded!"

"—A fact," Tochi continues prompting the impatient Andorian to wait on his further storytelling. "That made her all the more intriguing, we think—but she was gracious enough to entertain his company. That first day, they simply walked along the beach together and talked for an hour or so. Any attempts he might have made to seduce her, subtle and cunning as they may have been, fell completely flat but, surprisingly enough, he was undeterred in his pursuit. At the end of that encounter, Dirven returned to his rooms alone without even the thought of seeking out anyone else to share the rest of his night. Rather, he spent that night with his piano," he nods at Asovil's mug where it sits on the table. "Some Andorian Ale, and thoughts of Talla. He had all but completed Blue on the Bay by the time morning came.

"As smitten by her as he was, of course, Dirven returned to the beach in hopes of finding her there, again," Tochi sips at his juice, smiles a bit, and setting the glass aside, continues on. "And he did, if not as quickly as he might have liked. Again, she showed fairly little interest outside of polite conversation. They chatted for a short time, that morning, but were interrupted (as Dirven recalled it) by a group of Talla's friends who had come to collect her for a trip to the Subterranean Gardens. As she and her friends took their leave, Dirven asked her if she might like to meet on the beach that evening if he promised to play a song for her that he'd written. With a bit of coaxing from her friends, and to Dirven's delight, Talla agreed and a time was set to meet. Dirven knew that the song would have to be something truly special and, even as quickly as he'd composed Blue on the Bay, he was sure it would be. However, he couldn't very well bring his piano to the beach, so, the hours that Talla and her friends spent in Risa's gardens, Dirven spent in his rooms rehearsing the piece on his mandolin."

"I'm sorry, but what is a mandolin?" Asovil inquires, intrigued at the mention of something new. "I know of a piano from the Academy. One of my roommates played. An amazing sound, if I do say so myself. She was able to produce some stirring compositions. But this mandolin is something I've not heard of."

(OOC: answer, or ignore.)

"So, the time came and Dirven returned to the beach. He found Talla and (to a disappointment that he hid fairly well, we think) her friends at a spot that was just a bit more crowded than he might have hoped. Sea turtles were supposed to be coming into the bay and onto the beach around moonrise, that night, and as it turned out, the resort staff had organized an impromptu party to entertain the guests who had gathered to await the spectacle. When the staff saw that Dirven had arrived with his mandolin in hand, they were overjoyed, thinking, perhaps, that he had showed up to entertain all of the guests rather than just the one, he'd been hired to play Temtibi Bay, more than once before, you see," The Trill offers a faint shake of his head, dismissing that last as being unimportant to the story.

He sips, smiles, and then continues. "Anyway, as he was truly trying to impress Talla, and refusing the staff's requests for him to play would likely have been considered rude, Dirven gave in to the coaxing and launched into a set that he had intended to end with the song he'd written about her. Being the showman that he was, the farther he got through his set, the more people were drawn from other parts of the beach and, by the time he'd gotten to the point where he was going to wrap the unplanned concert up with Blue on the Bay, there was quite a sizeable crowd. During his performance, as the crowd grew, he had strolled out onto the trunk of one of those Sakanar Palms that leaned over the beach, using it as a makeshift stage as it would let him better see his audience and vice versa."

Again, the Andorian woman has no idea what a Sakanar Palm is, but this time she pretends to with a smile and a knowing nod, not wishing to further interrupt the tempo of the tale.

"So, he's standing there on the palm, and when he finds Talla in the crowd he announces the song. ‘Thank you, Thank you,'" Tochi imitates Dirven's voice. "‘You've been a wonderful audience. The turtles will be coming into the bay, soon, I think, and I know most of you came here tonight for them and not me. If you good people don't mind, though, I'd like to play you one last song,'" The XO grins a bit, almost chuckling but not quite. "At this point, Dirven is moving to actually sit on the palm's trunk," he explains before continuing with his impersonation of the past host. "‘I was inspired to write this, on this very beach, just yesterday, ladies and gentlemen, by a glimpse of beauty so magical and pure that it spoke to my very heart and soul,' He's got himself seated, now, and he's locking eyes with Talla as he shifts his weight and readies his instrument, ‘I call it Blue on the Bay and, I humbly dedicate it to Talla zh'Tisia.' He strums out the first few chords and is just about to start singing when he makes the mistake of shifting his weight, again," Tochi's grin has broadened and there is the hint of a blush showing just at the edge of his spots, "He'd shifted just a bit too much, we imagine, and found himself slipping off of the trunk. He was already rather embarrassed that he was about to fall off the tree and onto the beach, of course, not the ideal way to end a concert, but as he slipped, his swim trunks caught on a jutting piece of bark. So, slip, rip, and flip, and there's Dirven, tumbling to the beach, wearing nothing but his spots and an abashed smile."

"No!" Asovil gasps and instinctively covers her open mouth with her right hand, feeling the unease that Dirven must have felt herself.

Tochi chuckles now, the blush blooming a bit more as he recalls feeling that embarrassment. "As humiliating as it was, though, we believe it was that moment that, finally, for whatever reason, endeared him enough to Talla that he and she went on to have quite a passionate relationship that lasted years as opposed to the days or weeks."

He shrugs a bit, still smiling, and regards the Andorian sitting across from him, "So, embarrassing enough to count, Asovil?"

The woman bobs her head in affirmation, hand still over her mouth though the humor of the situation has gathered about the edges of her azure eyes and dark blue lips.

"How in the Universe did he ever recover?" she finally musters, looking at the Trill with wide eyes that are quickly filling with mirth. "And I can only imagine how Dirven managed to ‘persuade' Talla with that presentation.

"Truly, you've outdone me, Tochi—" she pauses and looks slyly at her dinner companion. "Or should I say, Dirven?" Her stomach fluttering, Asovil realizes that she's blushing a darker shade of blue. Tales of misfortune have developed the beginning bonds of friendship and the realization causes the usually well put together scientist some confused feelings. While she has been immensely enjoying the outing, she now quite suddenly finds herself feeling awkwardly shy. Unsure as to the origin of the feelings, and unfamiliar with conducting herself while these feelings are in control, the Andorian beauty quickly downs the rest of her ale and allows herself a moment to relish the warmth of the alcohol coursing through her system. Setting the mug down, she purses her lips and then chews at the bottom for a second before picking up her napkin and delicately dabbing at the corners of her mouth.

"I want to thank you, Tochi," she can't help the shy look she gives him from beneath her white lashes. "I had thought my assignment on the Peregrine to be a lonely one bereft of career satisfaction and to be blunt, fulfilling engagement of any kind.

"You've not only provided me with a proper welcome, but I hope," here's where her voice falls away and she takes stock of her words once again. "I hope that we will continue our conversations while you teach me to fence, and perhaps, over future meals."

Awkwardness rushes over her like an Andorian Avalanche and she drops the napkin on her plate while rising quickly from her seat. Tugging at the bottom of her uniform top, she takes a deep breath, "Thank you for your time and company, Tochi Zai. I must excuse myself to prepare for the reception tonight. I shall attend with proverbial bells on."

(OOC: response, if so inclined)

Flashing a gorgeous, toothy smile at the XO, Asovil Sh'iraolnas strides quickly and purposefully towards the doors, so intent on making a graceful exit that she entirely misses Leah's wave good-bye.

Achieving the corridor beyond, she pauses long enough to force the flush in her cheeks back to the oblivion she prefers it to remain. You are a scientist, Asovil Sh'iraolnas, not a naive schoolgirl to be won over by a pleasant meal and an absolutely, undeniably, amazing charm! Feeling a chill of delight run down her spine, the Andorian quickly takes up her step again. It is time, she decides. To see myself to my quarters and do just what I said.

Stardate 2365.02.08 (Monday - 42136.2)
USS Peregrine Lounge - 16:20

Haemis set his fork gently down into the bowl in front of him and leaned back in his chair, he glanced around the room slowly taking in the room. He listened to the conversations going on around him for a time drinking his water. Standing up and pulling his work out garb flat he crosses the room to deposit the bowl into the replicator.

Exiting the lounge he quickly made his way back to his quarters, first day was almost behind him. Captain didn't toss him out an airlock, the ship seems to be functioning good. This could be home. The doors to his room shut behind him he checked to see if the shower between him and his neighbor wasn't occupying the thing. He closed the door stripped down jumping in the Sonic Shower. He let the sonic shower massage his body as he leaned up against the back wall of the stall.

"One down, many more to go..." he said to himself.

Turning around he leaned back allowing his back to lay against the back plate, his eyes closed. He waited a long moment in silence, and then he just let it flow from his lips.

"The Sky was clear, the morn was fair."
"Not a breath came over the sea"
"When Mary left her highland home"
"And Wandered forth with me"
"Though flowers decked the mountainside"
"And fragrance filled the vale"
"By far the sweetest flower there"
"Was the rose of Allandale"

"Sweet rose of allandale"
"Sweet rose of allandale"
"by far the sweetest flower there"
"Was the rose of allandale"

"Where'er I wander to the east and to the west"
"And fate began to lower"
"A solace still was she to me"
"In sorrow's lonely hour"
"Through tempest wreck my lonely barque"
"And may rend the quivering sail"
"One maiden warm withstood the storm"
"Twas the rose of allandale"

"And when my feeble lips were parched"
"On Africa's burning sands"
"She whispered hopes of happiness"
"And tales of foreign lands"
"My life had been a wilderness"
"Unblessed by fortune's gales"
"Had fate not linked my lot to her"
"Sweet rose of allandale"

Letting out a deep sigh as the sonic showers cycle comes to an end. He really wanted to restart it again, but that would be just selfish of him and right now he really wanted to be. Pushing open the door to the sonic shower alcove he stepped out into the steaming room wrapping the towel around him and flipped off the privacy light as he moved out into his quarters shutting the adjoining door behind him.

Toweling off he dropped onto his bed and just lay there for a while allowing his body to cool off and just enjoy life for a moment.

((OOC: So sorry for the lack of response recently lots of distractions, ended up in an impromptu move so now that I'm settled I'm hoping to get back into checking this each week. Thank you for your patience. Here is just a post to get myself rolling back into things. Haemis is still a bit stand offish having just come aboard so I apologize if I seem a bit distant. That is intended for the moment. 8-) ))

Stardate 2365.02.08 (Monday - 42136.2)
USS Peregrine; Deck 5; "The Aerie," Tochi and Asovil's table - 16:17

"Anyway, What, were we saying?"

"You were speaking about Dirven's auspicious Risa memories and playboy mannerisms," Asovil reminds him without so much as a hesitation. Forking a cooling piece of chicken into her mouth, the Andorian puts a hand up to cover her lips as she speaks around the food, the thought just popping into her head. "We are to wear bells to the reception tonight?"

Tochi blinks, his brows knitting in momentary confusion and Asovil wonders if she has once again muddled something up. The befuddled expression morphs into a slow smile and he chuckles a bit.

"Oh," the Trill says, shaking his head, "No, not actual bells. It's an old Terran expression. We're not precisely sure of the origins of the phrase, but it's intended to indicate that we'll happily attend."

"Terrans have far too many expressions to keep track of," she frowns in thought. "Perhaps someone should program the universal translators to take into consideration such idioms."

Grinning, Tochi arches a brow, "You really haven't spent much time in the company of humans, have you?"

"I've been with Starfleet for four Earth years," the Andorian replies with a pained expression. "Prior to that, I did not spend time around Terrans. I find them a bit like Romulans, to be honest. Most are pretentious and desire to be respected for their intellectual and physical accomplishments while enforcing a highly human view of things on the whole of the Federation. The Prime Directive tempers this indulgence somewhat, and there are humans I have encountered who are kind, caring individuals that seem to have somehow managed to exceed the limitations of their species," Asovil trails off as she considers what she's just said.

Tochi wasn't honestly expecting such a lengthy, analytical response to the question, but, as the Andorian chose to share her insights, the Trill couldn't help but relate to what she was saying, even if it was from a point of view much older than he. Odia's first encounters with humans all but validated the generalizations that Asovil put forward and, perhaps, expanded on them to a considerable degree, If she only knew how Terrans used to be, he thinks without giving voice to the words, she'd be more impressed with how they are now.

"My experiences are very limited, yes," she continues after an instant of reflection, "And I am pleased to be serving within Starfleet so that I may grow in my knowledge of the Terran races and their behaviors. I am, perhaps, not truly qualified to deliver such a profound analysis."

"Who among us is," Tochi suggests with a smile and a vague shrug, "There is good and bad to be uncovered in all species, we think, and humans have come quite a long way in the two-hundred-some-odd years since we first encountered them,"

"But we digress from more entertaining subject matter!" the beautiful blue Andorian proclaims, setting her utensils across the plate.

",Right," the Trill grins in response to Asovil's prompting, "Dervin and his embarrassing tale.

Well, as we told you, some of our best memories of Risa come from him, and that's probably due to the fact that he visited the place quite often. His lascivious nature was a contributing factor, to be sure, but, more than that, it was the beauty of the planet, itself, that called him back time and time again; the certainty that he'd be able to find some lovely little thing with whom he could, ahem, enjoy that beauty was, typically, just an added bonus. Now, we say typically because, a good portion of the man's dalliances were just that, brief flings that ignited quickly, burned hot, and then flickered out in a matter of weeks or days, but there was one woman that we can say Dirven fell madly in love with and, in his attempts to woo her, is where we find an embarrassing moment that may come close to matching yours."

"I'll be the judge of that, Tochi," Asovil smiles.

Tochi sips at his juice, then, and smiles as he continues, "Her name was Talla and he met her at Temtibi Bay. We think he was initially drawn to her, not just because of her beauty, but because he had never seen an Andorian enjoying the warmth of the Risan suns the way she seemed to be,"

The Andorian scientist's eyebrows climbed her forehead and her antennae twitch at the revelation. For his part, Tochi is unable to keep his grin from growing wider at the reaction.

",To him," he continues, "there was something undefinably magical in her very presence on that beach, and he was smitten with her just as quickly as he was inspired, And it was really quickly. We think he had the first three verses of Blue on the Bay written before he had so much as introduced himself.

At any rate, Talla wasn't as instantly impressed by Dirven's charms and musical talents as many of his previous paramours were—"

"Oh, come," Asovil laughs lightly at the retelling. "Surely Dirven's charm succeeded!"

"—A fact," Tochi beams prompting the impatient Adnorian to wait on his further storytelling. "That made her all the more intriguing, we think—but she was gracious enough to entertain his company. That first day, they simply walked along the beach together and talked for an hour or so. Any attempts he might have made to seduce her, subtle and cunning as they may have been, fell completely flat but, surprisingly enough, he was undeterred in his pursuit. At the end of that encounter, Dirven returned to his rooms alone without even the thought of seeking out anyone else to share the rest of his night. Rather, he spent that night with his piano," he nods at Asovil's mug where it sits on the table. "Some Andorian Ale, and thoughts of Talla. He had all but completed Blue on the Bay by the time morning came.

"As smitten by her as he was, of course, Dirven returned to the beach in hopes of finding her there, again," Tochi sips at his juice, smiles a bit, and setting the glass aside, continues on. "And he did, if not as quickly as he might have liked. Again, she showed fairly little interest outside of polite conversation. They chatted for a short time, that morning, but were interrupted (as Dirven recalled it) by a group of Talla's friends who had come to collect her for a trip to the Subterranean Gardens. As she and her friends took their leave, Dirven asked her if she might like to meet on the beach that evening if he promised to play a song for her that he'd written. With a bit of coaxing from her friends, and to Dirven's delight, Talla agreed and a time was set to meet. Dirven knew that the song would have to be something truly special and, even as quickly as he'd composed Blue on the Bay, he was sure it would be. However, he couldn't very well bring his piano to the beach, so, the hours that Talla and her friends spent in Risa's gardens, Dirven spent in his rooms rehearsing the piece on his mandolin."

"I'm sorry, but what is a mandolin?" Asovil inquires, intrigued at the mention of something new. "I know of a piano from the Academy. One of my roommates played. An amazing sound, if I do say so myself. She was able to produce some stirring compositions. But this mandolin is something I've not heard of."

"A mandolin is something like a lute," Tochi pauses to explain, "They can have anywhere from eight to twelve paired strings that are plucked with a plectrum or pick. I play, myself," he offers humbly, "both the piano and the mandolin. Interests that I inherited from Dirven, actually, though I'm nowhere near as gifted.

We'll show you, sometime, if you like," he promises with a smile before continuing with the tale.

"That would be an experience I think I would like," the young woman decided, brushing her silver-white hair back behind her ear. "Now, back to Dirven and his escapades."

"So, the time came and Dirven returned to the beach. He found Talla and (to a disappointment that he hid fairly well, we think) her friends at a spot that was just a bit more crowded than he might have hoped. Sea turtles were supposed to be coming into the bay and onto the beach around moonrise, that night, and as it turned out, the resort staff had organized an impromptu party to entertain the guests who had gathered to await the spectacle. When the staff saw that Dirven had arrived with his mandolin in hand, they were overjoyed, thinking, perhaps, that he had showed up to entertain all of the guests rather than just the one, he'd been hired to play Temtibi Bay, more than once before, you see," The Trill offers a faint shake of his head, dismissing that last as being unimportant to the story.

He sips, smiles, and then continues. "Anyway, as he was truly trying to impress Talla, and refusing the staff's requests for him to play would likely have been considered rude, Dirven gave in to the coaxing and launched into a set that he had intended to end with the song he'd written about her. Being the showman that he was, the farther he got through his set, the more people were drawn from other parts of the beach and, by the time he'd gotten to the point where he was going to wrap the unplanned concert up with Blue on the Bay, there was quite a sizeable crowd. During his performance, as the crowd grew, he had strolled out onto the trunk of one of those Sakanar Palms that leaned over the beach, using it as a makeshift stage as it would let him better see his audience and vice versa."

Asovil offers a smile and a knowing nod.

"So, he's standing there on the palm, and when finds Talla in the crowd he announces the song. ‘Thank you, Thank you,'" Tochi imitates Dirven's voice. "‘You've been a wonderful audience. The turtles will be coming into the bay, soon, I think, and I know most of you came here tonight for them and not me. If you good people don't mind, though, I'd like to play you one last song,'" The XO grins a bit, almost chuckling but not quite. "At this point, Dirven is moving to actually sit on the palm's trunk," he explains before continuing with his impersonation of the past host. "‘I was inspired to write this, on this very beach, just yesterday, ladies and gentlemen, by a glimpse of beauty so magical and pure that it spoke to my very heart and soul,' He's got himself seated, now, and he's locking eyes with Talla as he shifts his weight and readies his instrument, ‘I call it Blue on the Bay and, I humbly dedicate it to Talla zh'Tisia.' He strums out the first few chords and is just about to start singing when he makes the mistake of shifting his weight, again," Tochi's grin has broadened and there is the hint of a blush showing just at the edge of his spots, "He'd shifted just a bit too much, we imagine, and found himself slipping off of the trunk. He was already rather embarrassed that he was about to fall off the tree and onto the beach, of course, not the ideal way to end a concert, but as he slipped, his swim trunks caught on a jutting piece of bark. So, slip, rip, and flip, and there's Dirven, tumbling to the beach, wearing nothing but his spots and an abashed smile."

"No!" Asovil gasps and instinctively covers her open mouth with her right hand, feeling the unease that Dirven must have felt herself.

"Yes!" Tochi does chuckle, now, the blush blooming a bit more as he recalls feeling that embarrassment. "As humiliating as it was, though, we believe it was that moment that, finally, for whatever reason, endeared him enough to Talla that he and she went on to have quite a passionate relationship that lasted years as opposed to the days or weeks."

He shrugs a bit, still smiling, and regards the Andorian sitting across from him; "So, embarrassing enough to count, Asovil?"

The woman bobs her head in affirmation, hand still over her mouth though the humor of the situation has gathered about the edges of her azure eyes and dark blue lips. Tochi's features, too, are painted by the humor in the tale, though, unlike Asovil's, there are also tinges of embarrassment and, perhaps, even a bit of happiness at how the story seems to have amused her.


"How in the Universe did he ever recover?" she finally musters, looking at the Trill with wide eyes that are quickly filling with mirth. "And I can only imagine how Dirven managed to ‘persuade' Talla with that presentation."

"He recovered quickly," the Trill laughed, "and was re-covered just as fast. Talla offered her sarong along with her praise for his playing and her sympathies for his ‘humiliation',"

"Truly, you've outdone me, Tochi—" she pauses and looks slyly at her dinner companion. "Or should I say, Dirven?"

"It's Dirven's story," Tochi winks at Asovil whose blush has suddenly risen to meet his own, "but we do share the memories of it all."

He has enjoyed this time with the Peregrine's new Chief Science Officer much more than he initially imagined he might have, and, possibly, more than we should have?, The offering of a professional courtesy had evolved quickly into an interaction that laid the foundations of what promised to be a truly pleasant friendship. Not at all what he had been anticipating, for sure, but most certainly a lovely surprise; they had yet to part ways and Tochi was already looking forward to the next time he might get to enjoy her company.

He watches over the rim of his glass as the Andorian beauty quickly downs the rest of her ale, seemingly enjoying the last bit of its warmth as it settles into her stomach. She sets the mug down, then, and purses her lips, chewing at the bottom for a second before picking up her napkin and delicately dabbing at the corners of her mouth.

"I want to thank you, Tochi," she says, a notably bashful gaze offered from beneath her white lashes. "I had thought my assignment on the Peregrine to be a lonely one bereft of career satisfaction and to be blunt, fulfilling engagement of any kind.

"You've not only provided me with a proper welcome, but I hope," here's where her voice falls away and she takes stock of her words once again. "I hope that we will continue our conversations while you teach me to fence, and perhaps, over future meals."

"The future holds the promise of new beginnings and better memories, Asovil" Tochi smiles, eyes sparkling as he offers his people's ancient adage and a tip of his glass in reply, "We would be delighted to enjoy a part in yours."

Abruptly, the enchanting Andorian drops the napkin on her plate and rises quickly from her seat, prompting Tochi to get to his feet, as well. Tugging at the bottom of her uniform top, she takes a deep breath, "Thank you for your time and company, Tochi Zai. I must excuse myself to prepare for the reception tonight. I shall attend with proverbial bells on."

"We'll see you there, Asovil Sh'iraolnas," the Trill smiles warmly. "Thank you for your time and company, as well; I have enjoyed it very much."

Flashing a gorgeous, toothy smile at the XO, Asovil Sh'iraolnas strides quickly and purposefully towards the doors, so intent on making a graceful exit that she entirely misses Leah's wave good-bye.

Tochi watches her go, the smile never fading from his lips, and doesn't retake his seat until the doors to the lounge have eclipsed her from view. With a contented sigh, the XO sinks back into his seat and reaches for his glass.

"Wellllll," Leah coos as she sidles up to the table and starts to gather the dishes Lt Sh'iraolnas has left behind, "seems as if someone's found a new friend, eh, Tochi?"

"We certainly hope so, Leah," Lt Zai replies from behind a mildly awkward smile, "The Lieutenant is not at all what we expected her to be."

"By the look on her pretty little face when she flew out of here," Leah notes with a coy smile of her own, "I'd say those feelings are more than just a wee bit mutual," She offers a playful wink, here, and adds, "Sir."

The XO laughs at that before draining the remains of his juice. "Always playing the match-maker aren't you, Petty Officer Finnley?"

"Always those that need matching, Lt Zai," Leah giggles as she turns to leave. "Your spots are a bit purple, Toch," she calls teasingly over her shoulder, "You might want to take that kit of yours and go get some, shall we say, poking?, out of your system."

"Shut up, Leah," Zai laughs as he gets to his feet, again, and, taking up his duffel, abandons the table and makes for the door. His lighthearted rebuke notwithstanding, by the time Tochi made the door, he couldn't help but acknowledge Leah's insight, If that's what you want to call it, As reinvigorated as he was suddenly finding himself, he decided that it would probably be a good idea to select an opponent in the holosuite as opposed to trying to find a sparing partner in the gymnasium. We don't want anyone getting injured out of enthusiasm, after all.


((OOC: And, that's a wrap on dinner! As stated, Tochi's on his way to go play Erol Flynn in one of the holosuites. I imagine he'll be there for an hour or so (assuming nothing urgent pulls him away) before returning to his quarters and getting ready for the reception, himself.

Oh, and if you couldn't tell, Leah's likely to add the tale of this encounter to the hopper of Peregrine's rumor-mill. She's such an instigator!))

(Posting of a little collaboration between Ody and myself.)

Stardate 2365.02.09
USS Peregrine; Turbo Lift - 0715

John had relinquished the Command Chair, he hoped his fatigued was not too obvious. Fate had rearranged his time management. With going to Starbase, personnel transfers and just bad luck john had been up nearly 48 hours. He needed down time and some rest. Perhaps a few minutes in the lounge for a drink and bite, followed by some sleep. But routine took over as he punched in Deck 2 instead of Deck 5.

The turbo doors slide open and without looking up John stepped out, right into Nurse Miraan as she stepped in. They stood there for a moment locked in a shocked embrace. The warmth her body pressed against him was comforting in his drowsy state. The nurse cleared her throat as she looked up to John's face. John stutters out a quick apology as he steps back, blushing slightly. "Oh ma'am, I'm sorry."

The smell of her hair lingered on his senses as he stared into her Hazel eyes. "I should have been watching,just a bit off my game..it's been a long 48 hours." John recognized the Nurse from from the mess the day before,then he remembered his milk mustache and blushed again.

Nurse Miraan smiled slightly at the Officer who held her closely in his arms for a moment before releasing her. She appraised him when he stepped back; she remembered him from the mess hall.

"No problem, LT," Miraan said in a soft voice, "no harm was done other than a little close contact. No rules against that is there?" She tone seemed to hint at something as her smile broadened.

"My name is Miraan," she said after a few seconds, "I don't believe we have officially met. I did see you in the mess hall the other day, but I didn't recognize you without you milk mustache." She chuckled a little bit at the memory and the blush.

"Were you headed to the Mess Hall again?" she asked, "Perhaps for more milk?" She seemed to delight in teasing him about it.



Stardate 2365.02.09
USS Peregrine; Deck 3 - 0715

John breathed a bit more easily. "Thank you Nurse Miraan." John smiled as he absently brushed a finger across his upper lip. "I'm John Reid,actually I was headed to the observation lounge for a brief snack and a "Night Cap" before turning in. .. I was thinking food and I guess I pressed the wrong button."

Smiling a polite smile, "I seem to remember you are one of many new transfers. If you were heading that way I would be pleased if you could join me,..Maybe I could do better job of apologizing, tell you a little about the Peregrine and hopefully I won't fall asleep on you."

Miraan returned his smile and nodded to him and gestured towards the Turbo Lift, "I would be glad to join you. We could go to the Observation Lounge as you wanted. I prefer the view there myself."

She followed him back into the Turbo lift to Deck 5; as they left the lift and walked to the Observation Lounge, she continued.



Stardate 2365.02.09
USS Peregrine; Deck 5 - 0716

"Well, John," she said then paused, "May I call you John?"

"Sure..one thing I like about the lounge is getting away formality."

"John, " she went on, "yes I am one of the new Nurses that came aboard at Starbase 118. I am just figuring out my way around and meeting new and 'interesting' people." She smiled at him and it seemed to imply that he was one of the 'interesting' people.

"So far it has been a very good experience," she continued as they approached the door to the Lounge, "but then it has been only a day so far." She chuckled slightly.

They made their way to an empty table and sat near the view port.

John waved for the hostess. As the blonde approached the table, "Natasha..you seem to be working a bit today."

"Goedemorgen John, with the special dinner last night we are all filling in as needed. What can get for you..a nice country breakfast?"

"Oh not for me, I'm coming off a double too, I actual need a nice night cap. How about a Brady and Benedictine. Maybe a cheese plate and fresh pumpernickel? ,Miraan, I haven't a clue what part of your day we are in,can Natasha get you something?"

"Yes please," Miraan said, "Just a plate of fresh fruit and cheeses, and a glass of Ardanan Qu'al Pear Juice."

"Erg goed, I'll have that out to shortly."

Bring his attention back to his guest. "Well I'm not so sure about how interesting I am. I'm just a junior officer,..I like working Security. ..keeping my crew safe is important to me." I guess it's in the blood., he thought to himself. "We have a good staff which helps make the job easier." John realized he was starting to ramble, he wasn't sure whether it was the lack of sleep or company. "Oh forgive me, I invite you to join me and then start talking about myself,. Tell about you. Did you request a transfer, how did you end up on a war bird like the Peregrine?

"No worries John," she said with a chuckled, "You seem to like to talk and I wasn't going to stop your rambling."

"Me?" Miraan said questioningly, "I don't know why I was transferred here, the orders just came in and I had 2 days to prepare for the arrival of the Peregrine." She shrugged, "I go where they tell me. It is Starfleet yes?" She grinned.

"But I don't mind," She went on as she waited for her food and drink, "I think I will be of more use here than on the Starbase. The medical staff here was severely understaffed and even now the shifts will be 12 hours long, so I will make do I am sure."

"There seems to be a few folks that just ended up here." John once again noticed her sparkling hazel green eyes. The soft features of her cheeks were framed by that flame of auburn hair. Blinking he drew himself back to the conversation. "But we are glad to have you and I hope you'll be glad to be here. Up until just recently this was a very quiet assignment. Then this escort duty has taken a bit of a twist when the Ambassadors decided to travel with us instead of the Coronado. So you should find a few interesting people on board. But you're right medical shifts do make it challenging to meet other crew."

She leaned forward and glanced around the room before continuing, "I must say that our Head Nurse Chief Cook is a bit of a , well I don't want to say Slave driver but she is very strict."

"Oh Cookie..I mean Nurse Cook, ,she's is all business, at least in the Sick Bay. I have to admit she runs a very good team. She expects a lot from the staff but she is every bit as committed to them as she is tough on them. Don't judge too quickly..I've learned that it pays to listen to the CPO's. If you do your job and do it well she'll be easy to live with. " Miraan continued to lean in and John again caught a whiff of the perfume she wore. As it danced on his senses he was also aware of the nurse full form. A warm smile drew across his face, he was saved from an embarrassing stare when Natasha return.

"Here you are.. I hope you enjoy."

"Oh thank you." John lifted his glass and nodded to Miraan," Here's to good company." John took a small sip from the crystal stemmed Cordial glass. The blend of the clear slightly thick liquor warmed nicely as it smoothly slid down the back of his throat. John closed his and let out a quiet moan, "Mmmmmmm,.Oh I really needed that." Setting the glass and picking up a piece of cheese and bread, "Now where were we?"

Miraan toasted with her glass of juice and picked up a ripe strawberry and bit into it letting the juice flow down her lips, "You were telling me about 'Cookie' as you call her." Miraan's eyes sparkled a bit as she took another bit and finished off the strawberry. She picked up a napkin and wiped her lips and the little bit that had run down to her chin. She laughed then seeing a bit of consternation on this face about the slip of his nickname for Chief Cook.

"Don't worry John," she said as she reached across and laid her hand atop his to calm him, "Your pet name for Chief Cook is safe with me." After a long moment she removed her hand and went back to nibbling at her fruit and cheese.

"I think I will like it hear aboard the Peregrine," she went on, "and with all the new transfers, including a new Chief Medical officer, we will be quite busy in Medical I think over the next week or so. The Doctor has ordered checkups on all the ship's crew in order to update the records." She paused and her eyes sparkled again as a small smile came to her lips.

"Perhaps I will be 'seeing' a lot more of you soon, John," She said referring to the physical exam no doubt.

"But, on to other things," She continued, "Tell me how long you have served aboard and have you seen any battles while you have been stationed aboard the Peregrine?"

((OOC: Work in Progress, more will be posted as it is completed. Just don't expect Ody and I to come up with a novel like Eol and Brom. We are only human. )

Stardate 2365.02.09
USS Peregrine; Deck 5, "The Aerie," - 0745
"Don't worry John," she said as she reached across and laid her hand atop his to calm him, "Your pet name for Chief Cook is safe with me." After a long moment she removed her hand and went back to nibbling at her fruit and cheese.
Even as tired as he was John enjoying the attention. Miraan's hand lingering on has was a clear signal that she not afraid of men.

"I think I will like it hear aboard the Peregrine," she went on, "and with all the new transfers, including a new Chief Medical officer, we will be quite busy in Medical I think over the next week or so. The Doctor has ordered checkups on all the ship's crew in order to update the records." She paused and her eyes sparkled again as a small smile came to her lips.

"Perhaps I will be 'seeing' a lot more of you soon, John," She said referring to the physical exam no doubt.
John broke into hardy laugh, "Oh be careful what you wish for,.." With that john took another sip.

"But, on to other things," She continued, "Tell me how long you have served aboard and have you seen any battles while you have been stationed aboard the Peregrine?"

"I've been on board for nine months. I had been on my first assignment for nearly four years in Security and there had been a bit of intrigue there. It was on a much larger ship and I had a lot of opportunity to learn. Star Fleet seems to have some kind means to their plan and I must have been up for rotation. I had requested to a Tactical position for my next assignment. The Peregrine had got called to action here due pirates raiding in the shipping lanes. It sort of sounded like something out an adventure novel. There was an opening for a ACTO here and I got it. Now some folks may think being assigned to smaller ship is somehow demeaning, but this is a great opportunity. There is as much work here as a Constitution Class just few folks to do it. ,but I'm wandering again. What had sound like an adventure fighting pirates turned out to be a pretty dull tour. I guess they heard how formidable a Scout Class really is so they moved on." The Brandy was starting to mellow John and barely was able to stifle a yawn. After another warming sip, "If we are lucky it will stay quiet,.could give all of us more time get to know each other,.have you ever been to Earth?"

Stardate 2365.02.09
USS Peregrine; Deck 5, "The Aerie," - 0745

"But, on to other things," She continued, "Tell me how long you have served aboard and have you seen any battles while you have been stationed aboard the Peregrine?"

"I've been on board for nine months. I had been on my first assignment for nearly four years in Security and there had been a bit of intrigue there. It was on a much larger ship and I had a lot of opportunity to learn. Star Fleet seems to have some kind means to their plan and I must have been up for rotation. I had requested to a Tactical position for my next assignment. The Peregrine had got called to action here due to pirates raiding in the shipping lanes. It sort of sounded like something out an adventure novel. There was an opening for an ACTO here and I got it. Now some folks may think being assigned to smaller ship is somehow demeaning, but this is a great opportunity. There is as much work here as a Constitution Class just few folks to do it. ,but I'm wandering again. What had sounded like an adventure fighting pirates turned out to be a pretty dull tour. I guess they heard how formidable a Scout Class really is so they moved on." The Brandy was starting to mellow John and barely was able to stifle a yawn. After another warming sip, "If we are lucky it will stay quiet,.could give all of us more time get to know each other,.have you ever been to Earth?"

Miraan listened intently as she munched on her fruit, cheese drinking her juices. When he paused to ask her a question, she took the bait and realized that he was turning the conversation back to her.

"Earth?" she said with a smile and a shake of her head, "unfortunately I have not. I have read quite a bit about it and it looks lovely, but my duties have never taken me into that area for a visit." Her brow furrowed and she looked a bit concerned.

"You seem tired, John," she said with a sigh, "I fear that I have kept you from your ‘night cap' and your sleep period. Maybe you would prefer to go to your quarters so that you may rest. I think I heard you say you had pulled a double shift? I can imagine that you must be very tired." The last bit was said so softly that, to his tired and dazed mind, it might just sound like a hypnotic suggestion; lulling him into a deeper desire to get some sleep as soon as possible.

"Maybe you should retire," Miraan suggested, "we will have plenty of opportunity to talk further. I mean it isn't a very large ship after all." She grinned a little at the last part and waited for him to make his decision.

"You seem tired, John," she said with a sigh, "I fear that I have kept you from your ‘night cap' and your sleep period. Maybe you would prefer to go to your quarters so that you may rest. I think I heard you say you had pulled a double shift? I can imagine that you must be very tired." The last bit was said so softly that, to his tired and dazed mind, it might just sound like a hypnotic suggestion; lulling him into a deeper desire to get some sleep as soon as possible.

"Maybe you should retire," Miraan suggested, "we will have plenty of opportunity to talk further. I mean it isn't a very large ship after all." She grinned a little at the last part and waited for him to make his decision.

"You are an astute observer; a good quality in the medical field. Yes I guess I've been on the go since Alpha shift two days ago...... When our assignment changed my schedule went out the hatch. I am glad you allowed me to make up for the silliness of the mustache. And as you said I will have to take me turn in sick bay for an exam. So you just may get to see more of me...", John laughed as he could see the twinkle in Miraan's eye. Then with a mischievous smirk. "Thank you for a pleasant time and I hope we can see more of each other... now I guess I'd better get to my quarters before I start snoring here."

Rising John took Miraan's hand, bowed politely,"Miraan,until next time."

He then left smiling, thinking of the possibilities.

Stardate 2365.02.08
USS Peregrine, Deck 2, Ambassador's Quarters, 16:55

The viewscreen flared to life, revealing a military officer wearing an unreadable expression.

The ambassador wore a frown. "Is everything in place, Captain?" he asked.

"Indeed it is," came the reply. "All preparations are complete. All systems are fully operational. They will not know what hit them."

The frown began to mellow a bit. "Good, good. And your crew? What of them?" he asked.

The officer on the screen stiffened. "Brother, this crew is hand picked, dedicated to the cause, and ready to die for it. They will not waver when the moment comes."

"Excellent," the ambassador replied. The frown was gone, replaced by a smirk.

"What of our agents on that end?" the captain asked.

The smirk on the ambassador's face deepened. "All are successfully in place. The Federation welcomed them with open arms - the fools have even granted me secure, encrypted communications with which to orchestrate our plans."

The officer shook his head. "How can they be so trusting?"

The ambassador chuckled. "I do not know. I believe that they underestimate the depth of our hatred for the enemy. They believe that talking will change things."

The captain made an odd noise. "There are many among us who believe the same."

The ambassador's expression grew dark once more. "And those are fools at best, traitors at the worst! But have no fear, my brother - our actions will gain so much more for our people that mere words could ever do!"

This time, it was the captain's turn to smirk. "I believe this more than anyone, else I would not be the one on this end of the operation, planning my own death!"

Now, the ambassador's face wore a touch of chagrin. "Or course, my brother... of course. I meant to offence to the glorious sacrifice of you and your crew. Your names will stand out among the history of our people."

The captain made a face as if to spit. "Bah. Few will know our names, and we will soon be forgotten. But we do this not for history's love, but for our people, and for final victory over the enemy."

The ambassador grew very serious. "Have no fear. The brethren understand the crucial import of your actions, how you will galvanize us at last to unite in victory. You will be lifted up!"

Mollified, the office changed course. "What of the Starfleet commanders? What impact will they have?"

The ambassador allowed himself a wide grin. "We could not have purposefully chosen better for our designs; they play perfectly into our hands. They squabble amongst themselves, they posture - each desiring to be the better of the two. They will not hesitate to act, and will follow our script as if cast to the role."

The officer allowed himself a grin of his own and gave a salute of a fist over his heart. "Excellent, brother. Strength and honor."

The ambassador nodded gravely and returned the salute. "And to you, brother. Strength and honor."

With that, the viewscreen went dark. The ambassador chuckled and moved to the replicator to see what it might hold of interest.

Stardate 2365.02.09
USS Peregrine; Deck 5, "The Aerie," - 0748

"Maybe you should retire," Miraan suggested, "we will have plenty of opportunity to talk further. I mean it isn't a very large ship after all." She grinned a little at the last part and waited for him to make his decision.

"You are an astute observer; a good quality in the medical field. Yes I guess I've been on the go since Alpha shift two days ago...... When our assignment changed my schedule went out the hatch. I am glad you allowed me to make up for the silliness of the mustache. And as you said I will have to take me turn in sick bay for an exam. So you just may get to see more of me...", John laughed as he could see the twinkle in Miraan's eye. Then with a mischievous smirk. "Thank you for a pleasant time and I hope we can see more of each other... now I guess I'd better get to my quarters before I start snoring here."

Miraan laughed at his talk of snoring, "Yes it wouldn't do. People might stare!"

Rising John took Miraan's hand, bowed politely,"Miraan,until next time."

"Yes John," she said with a smile, "It has been a most pleasant time."

He then left smiling, thinking of the possibilities.

Miraan's eyes followed him when he left and a small smile graced her lips. She definitely looked forward to further conversations with Lt. Reid; he seemed to be a quick thinker and a good conversationalist. She wondered what he was like when he wasn't half asleep.

She stayed there finishing her breakfast and watching other people come and go. She was a people person and nothing pleased her more than watching them go about their daily routines. Humans were so fascinating and the others races were equally so. After Miraan was finished, she rose from the table and left the Lounge with no particular plan on where she would go next; she was determined to explore the her new ship.

Stardate 2365.02.08
USS Peregrine; Crew Quarters, Deck 3 - 1806 ~ 1830

Crewman Sandra Ann Reynolds was resting in the common area of her quarters that she shared with 3 other enlisted personnel. She was a bit put out by the Crew accommodations aboard this ship; back at her last assignment she only had to share her quarters with one other person. At least they had two bedrooms off of the common area, but she had to share her bedroom with one other person, Crewman Amy Wren. While Amy is human and seems of a playful, fun-loving sort, she does have a way of making some of her remarks to come off as sounding sarcastic; it definitely can be irritating at times. She had only been here one day and already she is glad that Amy is currently working.

Sandra is sitting in the common area, alone at the moment, reading a medical journal on her PADD. She is studying the physiology of some of the other races, other than human, so that she can be familiar with some of the medical differences in case she is called upon to treat some of the Non-Human personnel. She sighed as she lowered her PADD and shook her head as her recent encounters with her new Head Nurse, CPO Cook. Already their seemed to be a problem between them. Oh, Chief Cook definitely has an abrasive personality, and loves to give orders in a stern and no nonsense manner. She liked her Sickbay neat and orderly, and her staff to keep it that way. Well, Sandra couldn't blame her for that; having thinks right where you expected them to be was very helpful in an Emergency.

Speaking of Emergency, she learned from Peter (PO Adama) that PO Bachmann had suffered some sort of accident and was shocked by some malfunctioning equipment in Sickbay. She was glad to learn that the Doctor and Chief Cook were tending to him. The Doctor seemed nice enough and it would be seen if she knew her job; Cook seemed to know her duties even if she was a bitter pill to swallow. She hoped that PO Bachmann was going to be alright; Peter had said that it didn't seem too serious.

Sandra was determined to prove that she knew her job; often she wasn't appreciated for her work. She was still a crewman even though she had been a nurse for awhile and had been passed up for promotion several times in the past. They all said that she worked well but she had a combative attitude; seriously? Her? She just didn't like it when people assumed she didn't know what to do and repeated their instructions just because she had questions about why they were doing things a certain way. Sometimes she saw a better way, but would they listen? No? Never! Well she was determined to prove them wrong at this assignment. As she lifted her PADD again and started to study, she thought that she would learn all that she could and soon they would see her differently. They would ,..

Screeeeeeech!

Sandra lowered her PADD and listened; What was that noise? She listened for a good minute, but the noise was not repeated. Shaking her head she went back to reading.

Screeeeeeech!

She sat up straight and frowned, "What the hell is that?" She said aloud this time. She rose to her feet, setting her PADD down on the table. She slowly walked about the chamber as she listened intently. She was sure that she wasn't imagining it. Or did she? She sighed as the sound was not repeated and just chocked it up to be tired. Grabbing her PADD, she went into her bedroom and decided to take a shower before she turned in a little early for the night.

Screeeeeeech!

The shower door opened and Sandra poked her head out and listened. There it was again. I can't be imaging it. It was real. Turning off the shower, she stepped out and in a minute she had slipped into her usual sleeping outfit, a long loose fitting gray shirt that came down to her mid thighs.

Screeeeeeech!

"There!" She said as she came out of the bathroom and into her bedroom and stopped to listen. She would pin it down, if it took all night.


(Edit: Why does the formatting in the Post not match what I see in the Message box when I am putting it in. GAH!!! )

Stardate 2365.02.08 (Monday - 42136.2)
USS Peregrine - Haemis McTavish Quarters - 18:25

Haemis lay on his bed having dawned some black seat pants and a white long sleeve shirt, he had a slue of PADDs adorned the bed around him. He had downloaded personnel files for the Engineering team aboard the Peregrine to start learning more about his staff. Eventually he would have to face them as the morning would have to come and the usual shift briefing would bring them all together.

"Caity Morgan..." he scanned through her engineering file. "A very bright and quick learning engineering officer. Recommendations, wow. What in the bloody el' are you doing on this boat." he stated flatly as the data scrolled by. The previous chief engineer had a lot of great things to say about this one. There was a reason she was his second.

Tossing the Padd aside He picked up the next and began reading. "Se'tek, Petty Officer 1st Class.. Now that's not something you see everyday. A vulcan that is Enlisted." he read through the file, it was dry as expected with a few entries that made him let out a laugh every so often.

Standing up, he collected five of the padds after tossing Se'tek's into the pile with Morgan's. He slipped on some Jika-tabi style shoes and left passing through the doors to his quarters, a Saint Christopher's neclace dangeled in front of his shirt. Turning a corner he spotted the turbolift and headed for it heading for the engineering room. It would be quiet at this hour down there.

It only took a few moments to reach the engine room, he passed through the doors nodding to one of the crew he recognized from a file Petty Officer Third class Merida Peers, she was one of the damage control team specialist. He offered her a smile. "Evening Petty Officer."

"Hello. You must Lieutenant MacTavish?" she said.

"Aye, that I am!" he said crossing the room to the maintenance room and access to the Jefferies tubes. "Just finding a wee corner to to do some reading. Trying to get to know the file versions of you." he shrugged sheepishly.

"Why not just get to know us?" she asked stopping what she was doing for a moment, leaning against the console.

He stopped halfway through the door and came back out. "That is the intent, but I like to know what skills people have to best utilize people and call on their strengths and know where to help too." he shifted uneasy. "It's just the way I've learned to do things!"

She nodded. "I see. Anything I can help with?"

He nodded. "There is usually a spot on the ship where the magnetic constrictors are just far enough out of alignment that it vibrates somewhat heavily within the jefferies tube. Every ship nearly has one. Just like that gravity plating sweet spot, this is one that vibrates."

"Why in blue blazes would you want that?" her expression shifted to one of confusion.

"It's where I like to think!" he said.

"Don't you have an office for that?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Its not the same!"

She blinked waiting for some kind of joke or punchline perhaps, but realizing he was serious she shrugged. "Uh, subsection thirty one. I've heard Lieutenant Morgan complain that no one can get that section right." she turned back to her console. "If there's anything I can do to help you settle in, let me know." she began working on the task she had when he had gotten there.

He stood there for a moment watching her work then ducked into the maintenance locker and opened the jeffereies tube door and slide in closing it behind him. He crawled his way down the gangway and took a turn heading down the port side of the ship and then he found it. It was perfect. He could feel the tremble running through the floor grating, hear the sub-harmonic resonation, he turned over and laid down on the metal floor looking up at the ODN junction above him in the ceiling, its lights flickering away. Yup, this was the spot. He set the other padds down next to him and began reading on Oerrik Akig, the Saurian Shield Systems specialist. He could already feel his muscles starting to relax and the tension slip away. This was his sweet spot.

Stardate 2365.02.08 (Monday - 42136.2)
USS Peregrine ; Deck 2 - Asovil's Quarters - 16:35

"Computer," Asovil Sh'iraolnas states the instant she steps into her quarters. "Dim lights to eighty-five percent and set temperature to twelve point seven seven seven eight degrees celsius."

=/\= Understood Lt. Sh'iraolnas. Lights and temperature settings have been changed. Would you like me to remember these settings for the future? =/\=

"Yes."

=/\= Settings have been updated. =/\=

Chill air immediate flows from the vents placed along the walls near the ceiling and the illumination recedes as per the Andorian's command. Standing just inside the quarters, Asovil takes in her new accommodations with a critical eye.

The entryway is approximately one meter deep and houses the red-colored door and ship computer console set immediately to the right of the portal when facing it (which is to Asovil's left at the moment). Structural designers added an archway to the interior space separating the entry and the rest of the quarters in order to provide some sense of separation. Aside from the sonic shower space, this is the only figment of division within the entire room.

Just outside of the entry and to the scientist's left is the enclosure that holds the sonic shower and lavatory facilities. That's where the wall ends at a right angle and the new wall begins with a sink built into a dresser and overhead cupboards as well as a mirror and a small amount of counter space. Sharing the remainder of this wall with the adjoining back wall is a corner desk complete with upper shelves, a personal view screen, a computer console, a desk, and drawers tucked underneath the workspace. The desk area ends on the back wall with a twin bed (standard size for officer quarters) that has an open cubby for a headboard, runs most of the length of the remainder of the back wall, and ends with a built-in wardrobe. Ops has made sure new sheets, blankets, and a pillow are folded and set neatly at the center of the bed. The remaining wall (to Asovil's right) consists of a set of waist-high shelves topped by a glass atrium with a brilliant red and purple plant that rises nearly to the ceiling and a small table by which she can take meals in her room, or work on other easily manageable projects. The floor is carpeted with a deep maroon that goes well with the door color, and the single chair currently resting in front of the desk space is outfitted with powerful magnets in the footings to secure it to the floor underneath the carpet preventing the furniture from being thrown about in case of turbulence—magnets that can be deactivated to move the chair about the room. Asovil's bivvy bag sits atop the table awaiting her attention.

All-in-all, the quarters are more than sufficient for her needs, if smaller than the space she had enjoyed on the Equinox.

The giddy feelings she has been experiencing since parting company with the roguish Trill subside. There's work to be done to make these quarters her's as well as to make her presentable to the dignitaries at the reception dinner at nineteen-hundred hours.

Setting about the task at hand, Asovil unzips her bivvy bag and quickly pulls from it three duty uniforms rolled neatly into compact packages and sets them on the table. The fourth rolled up uniform she reveals is the one she'll be changing into for the dinner. These, she takes to the wardrobe and slides the door open with a push of a button. Unrolling one while keeping the others tucked between her thighs and knees, she hangs the uniforms on the provided hangers, moving through the lot of them with practiced efficiency born from years of serving within the Imperial Guard and Starfleet. Returning to her bag she produces a final rolled up article and unfurls it with care.

This is a white form-fitting gown of Andorian design that reaches nearly to the floor even with Asovil's height. Sleeveless, it has a high collar, cross-fabric design across the breasts, and a tapered waist. Slits on either side rise to the knees and a single silver buckle sits on the left hip. A gift from her younger sister, Izolao, when she left for Starfleet Academy, the dress is dear to the scientist. Holding the gown out before her, she recalls her sister's emotion-filled gifting and comments about how she's going to need to fit in with the Terran's social customs, so she might as well look the part. While an Andorian tailor had made the dress, it had been designed by compiling a number of Terran cuts and Izolao had been most certain that the gown would help her older sister acclimate. Smiling fondly at the memory, Asovil delicately hung the piece of art in the wardrobe with her uniforms and pressed the button to close the doors. Another three commands entered into the wardrobe's control panel and the interior mechanicians are set to steam clean, press, and dry the articles of clothing within.

Returning to her bag, the blue-skinned beauty retrieves her personal PADD and two picture frames, all about the same size. The PADD she takes to the desk and sets down, placing one of the picture frames on the shelf above it. Activating the power button on the side turns on the picture screen which flares to life from a central point revealing a picture of Ekassol and Jhile, her father and mother, standing before the entrance to the Crystal Caverns on Andoria. The second picture frame is placed on the top shelf at the left side of the low built-in shelving system beneath the atrium. Activating this frame reveals a number of the graduating classmates from the Imperial Academy that she had grown close to during her stint. Resisting the urge to sit and watch the frames pass through the series of pictures and videos they hold within, the young woman returns to her bag.

Toiletries, a makeup kit, some jewelry, and a couple of personal hygiene and hair care devices are all taken to the sink area and placed either on the counter or within the drawer immediately below the sink. Another trip to the bag and she produces a spare set of highly polished regulation boots, white two-inch heeled sandals to wear with the dress, and a pair of dueling boots. These are all placed in the bottom drawer beneath the sink along with the shoe polish kit.

Another trip to the bag finds the young Andorian woman pulling out three pair of rolled up regulation underclothing, two tightly rolled workout shirts, two pair of workout shorts stored in similar fashion, and a number of socks. These are all placed in the second to last drawer of the dresser beneath the sink before she returns to her bag and retrieves a pair of casual slacks, and a loose-fitting white blouse. These, too, are placed in the dresser, folded and patted down to unnecessarily conserve room.

Finally, Asovil pulls a large fine-cloth wrapped thin item from the bottom of the bag. This, she sets reverently on the table next to the sagging bivvy bag and gently pulls aside the cloth to reveal her chaka. Approximately thirty-five centimeters long, and seventy-five centimeters from side to side, it weighs about one point eight kilos. Her's has a longer central blades, spiked side-blades, and a basket hilt on the haft. More of a shortsword than a dagger, when Asovil revealed it to her first roommate at Starfleet Academy (one Mary Rooney), Mary had declared that it resembled three Earth Bowie knives joined to form an upside down "T" with the main blade protruding outward from the fist and the two others protruding from either end of the handle.

A sacred dueling weapon of her people, a combat form for which the scientist is profoundly adept having achieved the rank of a Seventh Level Duelist before leaving for Starfleet Academy, Asovil proudly sets up the display rack on top of the headboard cubby and places the weapon there, point down. In times of war, or in preparation for the Duel, she will turn it so that the center blade is pointed upward as a sign of readiness.

Stepping back to the center of the room, the young woman observes her efforts with satisfaction. Still sparsely decorated, the quarters are, nonetheless, now hers. She's claimed her quarters by distributing her personal affects about the space and the next task is to make her bed.

Military training has taught her how to cut a sheet and set a blanket so tight that if a young child were to be dropped on the hardest of mattresses, the tautness of the bedding would still spring it back into the parent's waiting arms. Finishing, she studies the lines at the corners, the smoothness of the blanket's surface that allows the Starfleet insignia to sit proudly and boldly in perfect presentation center on the bed, and the placement of the pillow. Reaching up with her left hand, she pulls the pillow a little closer to the outside edge of the bed and then approves of her work with a nod.

"Computer, time?" she sets her hands on her hips and looks about the room once more.

=/\= The time is now seventeen hundred and five hours. =/\=

Moving back to the table, Asovil picks up her bivvy bag, folds it neatly, and steps across the room to the sink where she deposits the item in the bottom drawer. Stripping off her uniform and underclothing, the accomplished Andorian folds these articles and places them on the bed before making her way to the sonic shower and lavatory. The process of relieving herself and showering is quickly accomplished as her Academy training kicks in once more.

Toweling off, Asovil slips into her regulation underclothing, brushes her teeth, drops a quick mouthwash tablet into her mouth, and proceeds to return her hair to the straightened condition she prefers it in, removing the natural curl with one of the multi-functional devices she's brought along. Never having been one for makeup, she applies a very small amount; just enough to accent the contours of her cheeks, shadow her eyelids, thicken her lashes, and further define the edges of her lips. Starfleet Regulation prohibits displays of jewelry except for the purpose of religious requirements as with the Bajorans, but small diamond studs in her ears are perfectly acceptable. Finishing this process, the young Andorian woman studies herself in the mirror. That will have to do, she sighs, not at all happy with the results of her labors.

"Computer, time?"

=/\= The time is now seventeen hundred and forty-seven hours. =/\=

Chewing on the inside of her bottom lip, she considers the possibilities for how she'll kill the remainder of the time she has until the dinner. There's a lot she could do, such as making a log report on her interview with Chief Crane. She hasn't been able to do that yet as Tochi—the thought of the XO warms her skin, immediately causing her no end of mortification—had invited her to dinner. Then there's communicating with her family. She has yet to inform them of her new assignment and can only imagine the litany of questions that will be thrown her way once she does. Dreadful, invasive questions that she would rather avoid at the moment knowing full well that they will rattle her calm and deliver her a mood of strained nerves for her introduction to the ambassadors.

"Then, that's decided," she says as she makes her way over to her desk and drops comfortably into the chair. "Mother and father can wait another day. What they don't know,"

Activating the computer screen, she moves through the commands to bring up her official department logbook. Accessing the log entry portion, she pauses, blasted by a thought that makes her feel cruel and selfish.

"Lt. Sh'iraolnas to Security."

=/\= Security, here. What can we do for you, Lieutenant? =/\=

"I have confined Chief Crane to her quarters. Will you please see to it that she is provided with meals at the appropriate times for Alpha shift assignment?"

=/\= Affirmative, Lieutenant. Is there anything that we need to be aware of concerning the situation with Chief Crane? =/\=

Asovil considers the question for a moment, chewing once again on the inside of her bottom lip. Lauren Crane seems truly reticent and obviously emotionally distraught over the consequences of her actions, but the condition of the Chief is in no way a comfort to the Andorian woman. Quite the opposite, actually. Lt. Sh'iraolnas has been witness to unfortunate antics propagated by emotionally distraught personnel during her education as well as in service to both the Imperial Guard and Starfleet. Just trusting that Lauren won't misbehave is folly, but expecting that a person in her situation could do something foolish thinking nothing of it except to satisfy their own guilt would be the anticipatory course expected of a Starfleet officer.

=/\= Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas? =/\=

"Yes," she abruptly responds. "I apologize. I was considering your question.

"I would like to make sure that all off-ship communications for Chief Crane are suspended during this restrictive period. All internal communications must be routed through me first, just to be certain that no further activity is suspect. Should she leave her quarters, or should she have any visitors, I want to immediately be informed.

"Aside from these orders, I don't see any necessity to divulge further situational details at this time."

=/\= Affirmative, Lieutenant. We'll see to it that your orders are carried out. =/\=

"Thank you."

Sighing once again, Asovil closes her eyes and takes a couple of slow, deep breaths. Setting herself to the task of filling out her log report, the Andorian calms her mind and soul while switching modes to pursue a more analytical approach. Logging department events is a task she finds helpful in judiciously assessing situations and interactions. Approaching the subject matter with a scientific outlook means that facts are presented and opinion is relegated to theory. This approach has served her well throughout her career, and in this case, she hopes that the log will reflect the same succinct delivery she takes pride in. She is careful with the words she uses, rereading the entry three times over before committing it. Her personal belief is that a log entry should not be edited once it is committed. Whenever she comes across such an entry, she questions the validity of the content. As such, she makes it her duty to provide clean, truthful, and fact-filled logs. The rereading of this particular entry requires five edited sentences, three word spelling corrections, and a minor grammatical error caused by a stuttered musing while the computer was recording. In the end, it is something she can take pride in.

"Computer," she settles back against the seatback and places both hands on the desk, stretching her back and shoulders. "Have any changes to my calendar been made?"

=/\= None at this time. =/\=

"He's probably busy with the preparations for the dinner," she mutters of the captain and the lack of appointment for her official briefing.

Turning in the chair she places her hands on her bare knees and looks towards the wardrobe. "Computer, time?"

=/\= The time is now eighteen hundred and twenty-two hours. =/\=

"All right, then," Asovil slaps her thighs and springs up from her seat, approaching the wardrobe in a couple of steps. The cleaning, pressing, and drying process has concluded. Opening the doors, she retrieves her dress uniform and holds it up against her body to inspect the work done by the ship. Neat and straight, the uniform jacket is blue with gold trim and a black swatch across the top of the shoulders and collar. The pants are black, cuffed just above the boot, and straight as well. Her polished black boots will finish off the ensemble.

Dressing, the science officer takes great care in making sure everything is in order eventually stepping over to the mirror to further investigate her appearance. Satisfied that at least the uniform looks presentable, she attaches her insignia to the left breast and places her lieutenant, junior grade, pips on her collar. Taking another deep breath, Asovil takes one step backward and relegates herself to a final once-over.

"This will have to do," she mutters with a frown while smoothing her jacket from the waist down with both hands. Her antennae reflect her doubt by drooping a little.

"Computer," she asks again. "Time?"

=/\= The time is now eighteen hundred and forty-three hours. =/\=

Closing her eyes and pressing her lips together, Lt. Sh'iraolnas breathes to settle the butterflies in her stomach. This is nothing more than a fancy dinner for people you don't know. Nothing to be this concerned over. Though the thought is accurate, she knows that deep down she is worried about a number of things. She wants to represent her ship and captain well, she finds herself struggling to engage in small talk more often than not, and Lt. Zai is going to be there with that crazily engaging smile of his. Failing to temper her nerves, the young woman settles her mind with the determination to do her best.

"It won't do to be late," she mutters and turns to the door. "Time to do your duty."

Stardate 2365.02.08

USS Peregrine, Captain's Ready Room, 1330

(OCC: This finally concludes the Captain and Berks meeting that I left hanging for the better part of a week, I ought to have more up tonight or tomorrow morning.)

Mathias stood at the doors to the turbolift, attention focused on proof reading his report on the Tesenblen debacle for what felt like the fifteenth time, as the doors opened a crew member, whose name escaped him snapped to attention as the door opened, Mathias raised his eyes for a second and nodded in a greetings and went back to his report, but he felt a somewhat pregnant silence until the crewmen alighted on deck 2. Moments later the doors opened to the corridor adjoining the bridge and ready room, Mathias went for the backdoor, eager to avoid the bridge until the incident was well behind him. He stopped at the door and took a moment to compose himself and then tapped the door chime.

"Come in," responded the Captain, his tone neutral, neither betraying his displeasure or pleasure at Mathias' arrival.

Mathias stepped through the door and the faint swish of the door cutting through the relative silence of the Ready Room offering the Captain a crisp salute and then probably more stiffly than he intended offered the Captain the PADD

"Here is my report on the arrest of Lieutenant Tesenblen, Captain."

Silas nodded in acceptance and took the offered device. "Thank you, Lieutenant," the Captain replied. "Please, have a seat."

The Captain to a moment to read the report, in the interest of time Mathias had kept the report consise, but honest, no matter how damning that information might be.

He'll arrive at the part that may cost me my position right about now,
Mathias watched as the Captain's brow furrowed somewhat and his gaze darkened and then turned to look at Mathias, he couldn't help but draw in a sharp but hopefully silent breath.

"Let me be sure that I understand, Lieutenant," the captain began.

"While you and Lieutenant Reid were otherwise occupied, Starfleet security boarded my ship, arrested my Chief Science Officer, and removed a large portion of my botany lab. This activity went unnoticed for a few reasons, most notably that Starbase personnel would have not been considered out of place, there were several last minute transfers..." the Captains anger was now palpable, "... most notable being Ensign Agris, who conveniently left us to serve aboard the Coronado."

Drake drew a deep breath. "It is your finding that the arresting team - apparently assisted by Ensign Agris - ensured that our personnel were otherwise occupied so as to not notice the arrest and raid. Do I have this right?" Mathias felt the Captian's steely gaze bore through him if a gaze could kill this one would have.

"Yes sir." Mathias replied smartly, there was no reason to fully elaborate, that was exactly what happened and there was no reason to grovel.

The Captain sighed and leaned back in his chair. It felt as if a non existent wind shifted in the room.

"Good work, Lieutenant," Silas spoke. "I cannot fathom why Starfleet security felt it necessary to operate in such an underhanded manner, but truthfully, there was no reason for us to suspect this sort of activity from them. Of course," he paused with a rueful grin, "we'll have learned our lesson now, won't we? Never again will external personnel be allowed free reign of our ship, even if they are Starfleet - the regulations can be damned."

"Aye sir, thank you sir! I'll work with ops to draft new access protocols for starbase personnel in time for our next resupply."

A weight was lifted off of Mathias' shoulders, perhaps this wouldn't be shortest tenure for a Chief Tactical officer the fleet had ever seen after all.

Silas shook his head. "Very well. Lieutenant, you are dismissed," he spoke.

Attempting to keep his tone neutral Mathias stood up "Aye sir, have a good rest of your day sir."

Mathias turned and made for the door, it was best not to tempt fate.

Stardate 2365.02.08
USS Peregrine; Deck 5; Corridor - 1635
As exasperating as the majority of his day had been, Lt Zai's mood was practically soaring when he strolled out of the Observation Lounge and made for the holosuite. The fatigued, almost sullen expression that had been etched on his features when he had abandoned the bridge, not quite two hours ago, was gone, replaced, now, by a spirited mien crafted by unexpectedly pleasant conversation and a brief respite from the stresses of the past hours. Those factors that had sculpted his earlier scowl were far from forgotten, of course, and still weighed on the XO's mind, but, the mealtime conversation he had just shared with Asovil had separated him from it enough, mentally, that the burden seemed considerably lessened. Lessened enough, in fact, that the Trill might have been heard happily humming to himself as he strode along the corridor, and, had he been heard by anyone who knew the tune, they might have recognized it as Blue on the Bay. As the last couple of bars hummed past Tochi's lips, he drew up to the door of the holosuite and tapped a sequence into the console.

"Computer," he said when the console bleeped its acknowledgement, "Load program Zai-99-pi-beta-1987."

=/\=Program loaded,=/\= the computer responded, =/\= Encounter level?=/\=

"Challenging."

=/\=Acknowledged. Your opponent has been selected. You may enter when ready, Lt Zai.=/\=

The door slid away and Tochi stepped through, entering a scene created by the holosuite that he didn't quite recognize. It was a large room, constructed of large, expertly worked stone and timbers, with narrow windows spaced along one wall that admitted the sounds of birdsong and of waves crashing on some nearby but unseen shore. On other walls there hung ancient, unrecognizable tapestries and paintings that broke the monotony of the cold stone and iron torch rings that were affixed at strategic intervals. The rings were devoid of torches, though, leaving the room to be lit only by the sunlight that streaked through the narrow windows and the tallows that flickered from myriad candelabras that surmounted the room's rich, wooden furnishings and the mantle above the hearth that dominated the far wall. Before this hearth stood what appeared to be a dark-haired human man, clad in dark brown trousers that were tucked into supple leather boots, a long vest, possibly crafted from the same leather as the boots, was worn over a beige tunic, and closed at the waist by a broad belt from which hung what appeared to be a Toledo Salamanca rapier.

Interesting, Tochi mused, grinning at the fact that the holosuite's programming had also seen fit to replace the uniform he'd been wearing with an outfit not dissimilar from that worn by the man at the other end of the room, only in hues of black and blue as opposed to the other's earthy tones. The Trill retrieved his own rapier from his, now, out-of-time duffel and set the bag aside. Securing the blade in the frog hanging from his belt, he advanced another couple of steps into the room. "Good evening, Maestro," he called to the dark, curly-haired man before the hearth, "We are Tochi Zai,"

At that, his opponent finally turned from his contemplation of the hearth, arched a brow, and lobbed a sneer that made the thick mustache above his lip wriggle like some great caterpillar. "Hello," the man nearly spat the word, drawing the Toledo Salamanca and rendering a salute with it at the same time, "My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die!"

Tochi's eyes went wide, his brows crawling higher on his forehead, for just an instant. Then, as a roguish smile replaced the briefly shocked expression, he couldn't help but chuckle as he drew his own blade, and returned the Spaniard's salute. This should be fun, he thought as the computer sounded out a trio of beeps.

=/\=En garde,*beep*, prêts, *beep*, allez! *booooooop*=/\=

Deck 2; XO's quarters - 1805
The door to his quarters whispers shut behind him and a smiling but very sweaty Tochi Zai pads across the maroon-hued carpet and into the living area. "You killed my father," he chuckles under his breath, shaking his head faintly, and thumbs away a rivulet of perspiration that was trickling it's way through the maze of spots at his temple, "prepare to die." He stops at a bank of cabinets issuing from the bulkhead which partitions the living space from the sleeping area, retrieves his rapier from his duffel, and returns it to its proper place on the wall-mounted display rack with his other blades. The bout with this Inigo Montoya had been as challenging as he had hoped it would have been and, to be honest, a much more humorous contest than he would have ever imagined, We'll have to remember to look him up at some point, he told himself, closing his duffel with his unworn whites still inside and, after stepping into the sleeping area, relegating the bag to the floor of the closet there, Quite the determined swordsman, We're surprised we've not heard of him before.

"Computer," he calls into the air as his mind turns to the upcoming reception for the ambassadors, "time?"

=/\=The time is eighteen hundred hours, five minutes.=/\=

"Swimmers and Walkers," Tochi grumbles, blinking almost in disbelief at the time announced by the computer, "Did it last that long? We'll most certainly have to investigate Maestro Montoya further, then." Before closing the closet, again, he retrieved his dress uniform from where it hung and carried it into the lavatory with him, hanging it next to the door before, first, considering the sonic shower and, then, deciding on the hot water version instead given the amount of perspiring he'd done in doing battle with the holographic Spaniard. The hot, pulsating jets of water would do his aching muscles good and, certainly, would rinse the sharp tang of sweat from his skin just as well as sonic shower might have.

Emerging from the shower some time later, Tochi wraps a towel around his waist and, as he regards his reflection in the mirror and debates on shaving, queries the computer once more; "Computer; time?"

=/\=The time is eighteen hundred hours, seventeen minutes.=/\=

Still studying his reflection, the Trill runs a hand over his whisker stubbled cheek, nods faintly, and asks; "Location of Lt Sh'iraolnas?"

=/\=Lt Sh'iraolnas is currently in her quarters - Deck Two, Cabin,=/\=

"Thank you," Tochi says, blinking into the mirror and wondering what had prompted him to even ask as to the CSO's whereabouts,

Your spots are purple, Toch, Leah Finnley's voice titters at him from recent memory.

,He offers his reflection a sheepish grin and a shake of his head, then, and, deciding against a shave, pushes away from the counter and exits the lavatory with his dress uniform (freshly steamed by the shower's mist) in hand. Best to put that from our mind, right now, he warned himself, padding back into the living area and toweling the lingering damp from his hair, we're going to have a Kasru-type engagement with this reception, not one leaning towards Dirven's predilections.

"Right," he chuckled softly, setting about getting himself dressed and groomed for the reception and, at least attempting to mentally prepare himself for further interactions with D'Lar and Threel. He manages to have some success with that, of course, but, still finds himself absently humming Blue on the Bay as he does.

((OOC: I figure Tochi will be exiting his quarters right around 1845-1850 or thereabouts... just for timeframe notation purposes.))

Stardate 2365.02.08
USS Coronado; Deck 7; Seven-Forward - 1805

"You don't really think this summit will accomplish anything, do you?" the Kuldaran diplomat queried, stroking the long strands of his mustachios before taking a contemplative sip of his beverage, "Our people have been, openly, at war for decades and, to be honest, over nothing. What makes you think that a Starfleet mediated conference will do anything to change that?"

"Heh," chuffed the Rytain emissary following a quick tip of his drink to his lips, "After decades of warfare over nothing, what else is there? Obviously, our constant skirmishes are getting us nowhere, and the subterfuge that accompanied the open aggression has done little else to diffuse or rectify the situation," there was a shrugging of pale, narrow shoulders at this point, "what other option is there?"

"More war," the wolfish Kuldaran conceded with a shrug, as if it was something he had come to not only expect but be accustomed to as well, "it is the way of things, after all."

"That is true enough, K'mpok," the Rytain nodded in concession, "but, at the same time, war has proven fruitless for both of our peoples. If anything, it has done nothing but suppress each of our potentials. At best, it has made us more durable, but to what end?"

"Did I say decades," K'mpok snickered, his yellow eyes reflecting the starlight that filetered through the windows of the Coronado's longue, "I should have said centuries! Tell me, Thrahl, how much do you truly to be accomplished in a three day summit when our people have been purposefully trying to eliminate each other for three thousand times that long? As much as we'd both like to believe it, you and I both know it's not liable to happen."

"Please," Captain Jacobs scoffed over the rim of the glass that contained his own, significantly watered own drink, "gentlemen. Neither of your parties have had the benefit of Federation intervention before now. I'm sure that you'll find, with proper mediation, that the differences between your people can easily be moderated and, as a result, the conditions of your concord will be mutually beneficial to all parties concerned."

"Exceedingly beneficial to the Federation, you mean, Captain," K'mpok snarled without truly meaning to, "After all, should this summit go as you and Thrahl expect, Starfleet will have access to an expansive lode of dilithium by which your starships can be powered and, as a result, maintain an occupier's presence in any number of Kuldar controlled systems," The Kuldaran snorted, brushed a few, braided and bone-beaded shocks of hair behind one marginally pointed ear, and continued; "Not to mention the countless resources that the Rytainians might provide in order to secure their continued protection by the UFP," He sipped at the thick, blood-red concoction that filled half of his Glass, then, and arched an unruly brow in suspicion, "What are we to think aside from the fact that your people are tired of losing to our superior forces and looking for a diplomatic solution rather than conceding your defeat as a more honorable race might?"

"Do NOT challenge the honor of my people, K'mpok," the Rytain delegate grumbled, almost rising from his seat as he did so, "We have resisted your advances for, as you say, centuries, and have yet to crumble to your aggression!"

"Delegate K'mpok," Captain Jacobs pleaded diplomatically, setting his glass aside, "Delegate Thrahl; please! We are trying to usher in a new era of peace and understanding between your peoples. Starfleet's interest in the dilithium you may provide access to as a result is tertiary, at best. Our primary concern is peace between each of your worlds and colonies and, thereby, extended peace and tolerance throughout the galaxy as a whole."

This statement from the Coronado's captain spurred an eruption of laughter from both the Rytain and Kuldaran seconds to the ambassadors currently billeted aboard the Peregrine. "Were that true, Captain Jacobs," K'mpok responded from behind an almost feral grin "your Federation would be having little to do with the troubles between our peoples.

In fact, if it weren't for the dilitihium deposits that would be made available to your precious Starfleet, we highly doubt that your kind would have any interest in us at all. Your interest is tertiary at best, not at least."


Thrahl nodded his head in agreement as he sipped at his drink and Captain Jacobs scowled as if his personal honor had been challenged by the wolfish man's statement. "I can assure you, Delegate K'mpok, that your assessment is as flawed as the reasons behind the conflict between your people and those of delegate Thrahl's, as well.

Yes; the dilitium deposits that the Federation would be provided in the best outcome of this scenario would be beneficial to extending our cause and purpose, but, our primary goal is to foster peace and harmony throughout the galaxy, regardless of creed or culture. We're all here to understand one another and,"

K'mpok raised a decidedly furry hand to forestall any further words from the Coronado's commanding officer. "While we appreciate your sentiment, Captain," he almost purred, "we also understand the machinations of politicians, regardless of race or origin, and, as such, have very little faith in the promises made by politicians such as yourself. The Kuldar do not, in any sense, put any faith or trust in,"

"I am not a politician," Jacobs protested, clumping his glass down hard on the table to punctuate the statement, "I am a Starfleet Captain, assigned to ensure that both of your come to a reasonable understanding in regards to the pointlessness of your peoples' continuing aggression toward one anoth,"

"A politician," Thrahl chuckled, lifting his glass of strained green juice in salute to the Kuldaran across the table, "true and to the core!"

"Indeed," K'mpok chuckled gruffly, returning the Rytain's salute before taking an almost gluttonous swallow from the mug, "and truly a politician of human decent. No one outside of Starfleet would deem it so simple."

"Ha! There is truth in your words, wolf man," Thrahl laughed much to the unspoken consternation of Captain Jacobs.

"Gentlemen," the starship captain sighed, shaking his head, "I can assure you that," he shook his head again and, unable to come up with the words for which he searched, looked almost demandingly to the first officer who flanked him.

"Gentlemen," Commander Farr started at the glance lobbed at her from Captain Jacobs, "please, let me assure you that what Captain Jacobs says can be taken as absolute truth given our orders from Starfleet Command and, thereby, the UFP as a whole. Our interest in your dilithium is only a matter of passing convenience. It has nothing to do, at all, with our over-arcing interest in seeing your people learning to co-exist despite your differences."

"If that were truly the case, Commander," Thrahl sighed with no small amount of condescension in his tone, "would it not also stand to reason that the Federation would have intervened before now?"

"Before now," Commander Farr returned with a smile intended to buffer the Rytain's contempt, "the Prime Directive prohibited us from taking,"

"Pach and p'tah on your Prime Directive," K'mpok spat, "All that invoking that particular edict proves is that, until now, your Federation deemed both my people and Thrahl's as beneath your notice."

Jacobs reddened at that and Farr, also, flushed with a tinge that may have been more embarrassment than anger. "Beneath our notice, I think, might be a misinterpretation, Delegate," Bethanny countered as diplomatically as she could manage. "The Prime Directive, as found in the Articles of the Federation, Chapter I, Article II, Paragraph VII states: ‘Nothing within these Articles of Federation shall authorize the United Federation of Planets to intervene in matters which are essentially the domestic jurisdiction of any planetary social system, or shall require the members to submit such matters to settlement under these Article of Federation. But this principle shall not prejudice the application of enforcement measures under,"

"Enforcement measures," the Kuldaran stressed from behind a wolfish grin as he and Thrahl exchanged a knowing glance.

",Chapter VII," Commander Farr finished, only slightly disheartened by K'mpok's focusing on those two words. Only slightly disheartened but, now, somewhat more than slightly questioning her own interpretation of the Federation's guiding principle, especially with Captain Jacobs so close.

Thrahl offered a vaguely complacent smile and shrug. "The Rytain and Kuldar do not agree on much," the delegate droned, "but, in this case, I am afraid that my counterpart, here, may have the right of it."

"How so, Delegate Thrahl?" Jacobs didn't so much ask as flatly demand. "The Federation has done all in its power, within the bounds of the Prime Directive, to aid in bringing this conflict of yours to an end, especially in recent years,"

"Everything just short of those enforcement measures to which your First Officer just referred, Captain," K'mpok interjected, "and, as we see it, only after it became obvious that Starfleet's potential access to our dilithium came to be threatened."

"As the right of each sentient species to line in accordance with its normal cultural evolution is considered sacred," Jacobs nearly blustered in reply, "no Starfleet personnel may interfere with the normal and healthy development of alien life and culture,"

"In what part of the galaxy are decades, even centuries, of war considered normal and healthy, I wonder," Thrahl mused pointedly, "Millions of people on both sides have lost their lives to this conflict,"

"Not at all healthy," K'mpok agreed.

",Such interference includes introducing superior knowledge, strength, or technology," Jacobs continued, his tone rising a bit, "to a world whose society is incapable of handling such advantages wisely,"

"Which brings us right back to where we began," K'mpok rumbled, "our people are beneath you enough that you are ‘forbidden' from sharing your knowledge, strength and technology and, yet, suddenly, this ‘superior knowledge' is deemed shareable as it relates to ushering in a peace that, if successful, has distinct advantages for you.

Tell me, Captain Jacobs; when your politics fail are those aforementioned enforcement measures not far behind?"

Jacobs fell silent as all eyes at the table fell on him, awaiting his response. He made a conscious effort to swallow the vitriol that arose from having to have this conversation with these lesser delegates as opposed to Ambassadors Threel and D'Lar, It was beneath him, after all, and this wasn't the way things were have supposed to have gone,

"I can assure you, Delegate K'mpok," Commander Farr offered when Captain Jacobs didn't offer up a more immediate response, "that the Federation has no intention of any such action."

"We shall see," the Kuldaran said, arching one wild brow, "Commander."

"And when you do," Jacobs said, smiling subtly, "you'll see that everything we've told you, here, is true."

"Yes," K'mpok scoffed, "one way or another, I'm certain we'll be seeing things your way."

Thrahl chuckled softly, perhaps even a bit nervously, and lifted his hands in resignation. "I think we can all agree that this summit will not be an easy thing," he said, "and there will be many steps along the way to seeing the end of this,"

",But, as long as we keep taking those steps forward," Bethanny smiled across the table at the Rytain delegate, "there is an end to be seen."

"Just so, Commander Farr," Thrahl nodded, returning the smile.