Stardate 2365.02.08 (Monday - 42136.5)
USS Peregrine Deck 2 - Captains Mess 19:18


I suppose we should be grateful that neither of our peoples have had access to these war machines, the Rytainian dignitary says sourly through a weak smile as he endures his counterparts touch. You did mention, Lieutenant McTavish, that the Peregrines cruising speed is warp seven. What would be her maximum speed?

Haemis finished off his drink and smiled warmly. "Tis a fast ship. But her top speeds are classified if memory serves. Without know'n what I'm allowed to divulge I hope you understand that I canna give ye that information. But I can tell ya she's fast." he shifted his weight fighting that nervous feeling at being in a crowd, even a small one. "Ifinya get the chance and the Capt'n approves it, we can look into getting you a tour. They might already have one lined up for ye." he snagged another drink as they passed with a tray. "These are quite good, have ye had one yet?" he asked looking at the glass.

((Room for any response you like...))

He continues staring at the liquid for a long moment as if remembering something. The last time he actually drank much of anything was at a friends wedding prior to the posting on the Coronado. it was a small affair, just a few tents in a park in the middle of Washington, some park he couldn't remember the name of. He did recall that it had a wonderful view. "Hurricane Ridge!" he said randomly remembering the name. "That was the place..." he said under his breath snapping his fingers. "Lieutenant Pressman, and his bride to be. That's where I remember something like this from..." he pointed to the drink. "Ach, memories. Sometimes harder to pull data from than a fried isolinar chip!" he shook his head a moment again realizing he's rambling.



Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday)
USS Peregrine; Deck 2; Lieutenant Haemis McTavish Quarters - 0527

"The time is oh five hundred twenty seven hours." echoed in the back of Haemis's mind. Then became more clear as his alarm repeated itself. He glanced up over a pillow, bleary eyed.

"Bloody ell!" he said hitting his head into the pillows several times. The night prior rushed back, to his embarrassment he only remembered having three of those drinks but they seemed to mix well with his body chemistry. He groaned and slowly slipped out of his bed like a wet noodle to the floor and lay there on his back for a long moment. Even without alcohol Haemis was not a morning person.

"The time is oh five hundred twenty eight hours..." followed by several beeps.

"Computer, shut that damn thing off!" he said flinging a boot at the wall. Slowly he got up and started collecting some cloths and started getting dressed for duty. Today was starting off well. It would likely be breakfast on the go.

It took Haemis a few minutes to get dressed, run a comb through his hair and rush out the door. He made his way down the hall and toward engineering. "Ach, no more of that!" he said to himself under his breath.

He passed through the doors to engineering and offered a nod to one of his staff who looked at him quizzically. "Good Morning sir!" he said, a smile starting to spread.

"Wha?" Haemis asked glancing around. "What is it Petty Officer Peers?"

She pointed, and his eyes followed. He looked down and found that he was wearing a pair of shorts instead of pants. He blinked, and held up a finger. "Alright, this didna happen. I'mma go fix this, and will be right bloody back." he frowned and turned and exited Engineering. He walked back the distance to his quarters, picked up the other 'black' looking pants this time taking a moment to confirm they indeed were duty pants and put them on. This was one of those moments in time he was grateful he didn't have bridge duty.

A short walk and he was back in engineering, there was a bit more going on as Lieutenant Morgan was already handing out assignments. "Good Morning Ms. Morgan." he said standing up to the pool table. "How are we look'n today?"

"Well, while the rest of us reported for duty on time and in uniform..." she said with a grin. "Assignments are out, not a lot on the agenda that isn't standard maintenance. Looks like it might be an easy day." she offered with a nod.

Haemis blushed red a bit and shot Petty Officer Peers a glance, whom summarily escaped engineering as quickly as she could would brought a laugh to some of the other's still around. "Aye. Thank you for taking care of doling out assignments. Much appreciated."

"Don't worry boss, your secret is as safe as scuttlebutt will allow for..." she said heading off to a task of her own.

He shook his head. "Bloody ell." he checked the to do list for the day and noted that everything was pretty much accounted for. He took a moment to look over the duty roster, it was near time already to submit a new one especially with all the changes. He nodded, and began to fill out a shift chart.

This was one of those tasks he'd seen his boss on the Coronado do a hundred times and even was able to do it himself a few times with his supervision. Of course every time he had completed one the Captain seemed to overturn it and send it back to his boss. Which aggravated him to no end. But it was the Captains prerogative. He settled in staring at the thing trying to decide how he was going to go about this with such a small crew. This would be interesting.

Stardate 2365.02.09
USS Peregrine, Captain's Mess - 1405

To her credit, Chief Crane had thus far conducted herself in an utterly professional manner. She sat straight and tall, and kept a serious, though neutral, expression on her face.

Sias went though his preliminaries and offered the Chief the option of seeking a court martial. He had honestly expected for her to confer with her advocate, but it would appear that Tochi had already helped to prep her for the proceeding; she did not hesitate in her response. "There's no need to confer, Captain," Chief Crane's voice maintained a steady and level tone. "I am fully prepared to accept your ruling in this matter, sir."

A wise decision, Drake mused. Clearly, Tochi had given some good advice.

"Fair enough, Chief," Silas answered. "With that being the case, I will proceed to the heart of the matter."

The Captain paused for a moment and looked around the room before fixing his gaze once again on Crane. "This morning at oh eight thirty," Silas began, "I had a meeting with Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas. As we recapped her impressions of her new department, she revealed to me that the two of you had a meeting yesterday evening, during which you confessed that you were, in fact, the individual responsible for the arrest of Lieutenant Tesenblen. According to Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas' report, you had concerns with the study of the wolfsbane and the potential impact in terms of safety to the crew and the mission."

Drake paused for a moment. "I was told that you raised these concerns to Lieutenant Tesenblen, but that he was not swayed, and cited the containment plan he had developed and I had sanctioned. From what I understand, you felt that since I had already approved his research and his plan, that your concerns would fall on deaf ears. You then contacted security aboard Starbase 118 to report the illegal research that Lieutenant Tesenblen was conducting."

The Captain paused again, and the holographic projectors leapt to life to display a time stamped communications log.

Drake gestured to the display. "The communications log between the Peregrine and Starbase 118 appears to corroborate this account. Please note the highlighted entry - stardate 42135.3. Communication initiated from Chief Petty Officer Lauren Crane to Starbase 118 security, duration six minutes, twelve seconds."

The Captain sighed ever so slightly. "Furthermore, an interview with your roommate, one Chief Petty Officer Dana Cook, reveals that you told her an essentially identical story to the one you told Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas."

Silas interlaced his fingers atop the table and regarded the accused. "Chief Crane, to be quite honest with you, the facts seem to be exceptionally clear. However, I will now give you the chance to present your version of the events in question. While I rather doubt that you will be able to tender any facts to call into question the veracity of the evidence I have related, it is possible that you may still present some mitigating circumstance of which I am not privy. This is your chance to speak, so please, include any information that you feel may be relevant to this proceeding."

With that, the Captain leaned back a bit in his chair and waited for the Chief's response.

Stardate 2365.02.09
USS Peregrine; Deck 3; NCOs Quarters - 0900
Chief Crane's summons to a Captain's Mast, of course, had not been unexpected. From the moment Lt Zai had learned of the NCO's infraction, he had known what Silas' reaction would be and that, at best, the Chief Petty Officer's career was about to take a fairly large step backward. Exactly how large a step, though, could be mitigated by the woman's decisions going forward and, perhaps, by some small bit of advocacy on his part. So it was that, rather than sneak in a couple of extra hours of sleep after breakfast, Tochi had found himself gathering all the pertinent data relating to Crane's case, dressing in his uniform several hours earlier than he had originally planned, and making his way to visit the woman in her quarters.

Now, with a PADD tucked under one arm and two cups of strong, Bolian coffee in hand, the Peregrine's XO stood outside that very cabin. He unfurls one finger from around the cup in his right hand and reaches out to key the chime,

A moment later, the tone of her voice notably despondent, CPO Crane's voice responds; =/\=Come in.=/\=

,As Lt Zai steps into the living area she shared with CPO Cook, Lauren starts to rise from where she had been seated. "Lt Zai," She looked almost as surprised as she sounded.

"Good morning, Lauren," Tochi smiles kindly, "Please, don't get up. You look as if you may have gotten less sleep than we have." He crosses the room as she hesitates, hovering halfway between coming to attention and returning to her seat. When he draws up at the opposite end of the sofa and offers her one of the cups of coffee he'd brought with him, though, she opts for the latter. Accepting the proffered cup with both hands, she silently settles back onto the couch and blinks at him as he takes a seat at the other end.

"It's Bolian," the Trill offers when, for a second, her gaze flits away from him to regard the contents of the cup he'd given her, "Extra strong. We hope black is alright."

"You're very generous, sir," Lauren mumbles as her chin quivers for just a moment before she manages to gain control once more. "Are you hitching your wagon to this runaway caravan then?"

The empathetic smile continues to grace his features as he watches her struggle to maintain her composure. "I am," Zai nods following a sip of coffee. He leans forward, relegating his cup to the small coffee-table and setting the PADD down next to it. "Your caravan, as you call it, is most certainly off of its tracks, Mister Crane," he acknowledges as the device's display lights up to display the files he's compiled. Then, as his gaze lifts to catch hers, again, his expression reassuring, he adds, "But we'd hardly refer to it as runaway, just yet, hm? We've been known to navigate out of tighter spots."

His fingers slide across the surface of the PADD, bringing the file containing the details of her transgression to the forefront and, he turns the device so that she might see it clearly from where she sits. "We'll not patronize you and tell you that these aren't serious charges, Lauren," he says, taking up his coffee as he leans back, "nor that there won't be consequences on par with the seriousness of the offense. That said, we have the utmost confidence that, between the two of us, we can see to it that those consequences are not of the career-ending sort." He regards her seriously over the rim of his cup as he sips at his coffee before he asks out of necessity; "You do wish to continue your career with Starfleet, we presume?"

"Oh, yes!" Lauren affects a surprised expression on her mousy face. "I most certainly do. And I wish to continue to do so on the Peregrine if that's still an option, sir."

"We would like to think it's the best option," Tochi grins, "Aside from this particular incident, Mister Crane, you have been nothing but an asset to your department, your crew, and your ship. Your service record has been exemplary," The XO allows a sigh to escape him, then, and gestures at the file displayed on the PADD; "Honestly, that is what we find most troubling about all of this. An NCO of your caliber and grade most certainly knows the purpose and importance of the chain of command and, yet, by your own admission, you willfully circumvented it when you contacted Starfleet Security with your concerns, bypassing myself and Captain Drake in the process.

We've read the report filed by Lt Sh'iraolnas regarding your meeting with and subsequent confession to her, yesterday," he continues, "and, to a certain degree, we completely understand your concerns; however, when those concerns weren't addressed to your satisfaction by Lt Tesenblen, you should have brought them to me. Can you help us understand why you chose not to do so?"

Lauren nods, accepting Tochi's conclusion. "I meant no disresp—" the small woman realizes how stupid the excuse sounds as it escapes her lips and corrects herself in a rush. "— IknowthatyouareCaptainDrake'srighthandman—" she breathes in sharply and visibly swallows while regaining a little dignity and slowing down her answer, flushing a deep crimson in the process. "—and I felt that seeing how Lt. Tesenblen had already received Captain Drake's buy-off on his project, you would have been in the know already.

"I worried about timing as well, sir. What with the delegates already boarding the ship. And, I guess... well, I don't want to make any excuses for my actions, sir. They weren't becoming a Starfleet chief, by any means. I just think I panicked a little. You know? I didn't feel that there were any other options available to me. My CO had dismissed my concerns and cited the captain's approval which usually means the entire command staff." Pausing again, Lauren sniffs and sadly shakes her head. "I know that bypassing the chain of command is irresponsible and unacceptable behavior, but I feel that I really was trying to do what was best for the ship. I wasn't trying to get anyone in trouble, or offend anyone, or... you know? I was just trying to do the right thing, and now I've tied cement shoes to my own feet."

Tochi offers a wan smile at Lauren's explanation. He, perhaps, understands the sentiment from a certain perspective - perhaps even from the very perspective from which the woman saw it herself when she chose to do what she had done - but, at the same time, cannot seem to wrap his head around the fact that, despite their own service together, Chief Crane felt as if Tochi's loyalty and dedication to Drake would have colored his perspective where this situation was concerned. As he tries to reconcile the various angles, he offers a shake of his head that is only slightly more perceptible than his confusion. "Mister Crane," he begins, his smile melting from reassuring to, possibly, something closer to apologetic, ",Lauren, Firstly, allow us to express our apologies for anything we might have done to encourage you to see us in that way. While you're assessment is correct - as the Peregrine's Executive Officer, I am Captain Drake's figurative right-hand - by definition of the post, I am also your right hand, and also the right hand of every other soul on this vessel, in the end.

We're a small ship and a small crew, Lauren," the Trill proposes, offering her a smile as he reaches out to lay a hand on her shoulder, "and, in our experience, that makes us closer to family than friends. Conflicts will arise more often and, unfortunately, may evolve more quickly as a result, but never doubt that, in the end, every being on this boat is in pursuit of the same goal, and, regardless of perception and because you are more family than friend, will go to any length to see that you are heard,"

Lt Zai shakes his head again, not as faintly this time, and offers a chuckle along with his smile. "If you were to presume that, with some small amount of effort, we could minimize the damage to your career with Starfleet, Mister Crane," he suggests, taking his hand from her shoulder and withdrawing slightly back into the cushions of the sofa, "could you assure us that, should any similar concerns arise in the future, you would trust us to hear you out with an open mind, regardless of any preconceived notions of our relationship with the Captain?"

Lauren's pinched features relax into an expression of pleading. "I've learned my lesson, Lieutenant Zai. I really have. I'll no sooner step outside of the chain of command than cut off my own head.

I just wish I could go back a couple of days and stop myself from being so foolish to begin with!"

Zai nods his understanding and gives the woman a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before withdrawing his hand. "There are always things in our pasts that we'd like to change, Lauren," the Trill shrugs and smiles, "None of us make the wisest choices in every situation nor can any of us go back and change the choices we've made. We can choose to lament our mistakes or learn from them, however... My people have a saying; the future holds the promise of new beginnings and better memories." He grins, realizing that he'd offered up the same adage in a different context just yesterday. "Today is your new beginning, Chief, and there will be better memories than this to follow, we promise."

He sips at his coffee, then, and as the cup leaves his lips he cants his head toward the PADD where it rests atop the coffee table. "Captain Drake, of course, takes a dim view of infractions such as these," he says evenly, "and, as such, we don't believe that you'll escape the Captain's Mast with a simple slap on the wrist. That said, the Captain is also fair, honest, and honorable. If we know him as well as we believe we do, he will offer you the opportunity for you to face a full Court Martial. As you have twice admitted culpability, we would advise you to not accept that offer; with your confession on the record, a guilty verdict is all but guaranteed and the punishment meted out would be far worse than anything you might expect to receive via the NJP.

Following your refusal of a Court Martial, Captain Drake will likely offer you the opportunity to present your side of the story, so to speak, before rendering his decision. As your advocate, I can speak for you at this point, if you so choose, but we advise you to speak for yourself, honestly and plainly. Then, if it's alright with you, we will ask to present some facts of our own that may, in some small fashion, have a bearing on the severity of your punishment,"

((OOC: Aaaaand, scene! Thanks for the assist, Brom. Always a pleasure, my friend.

As noted in the Q&A, I've got something in the works for the Captain's Mast, itself, and another item or two I'm working on. I'll focus on the Mast, first, and try to have that posted in short order.))

Stardate 2365.02.08 (Monday - 42136.5)
USS Peregrine Deck 2 - Captain's Mess - 19:22



Haemis finishes off his drink and smiles warmly. "Tis a fast ship. But her top speeds are classified if memory serves. Without know'n what I'm allowed to divulge, I hope you understand that I canna give ye that information. But I can tell ya she's fast." he shifts his weight, fighting that nervous feeling at being in a crowd, even though it may be a small crowd. "Ifinya get the chance, and the Capt'n approves it, we can look into getting you a tour. They might already have one lined up for ye." he snags another drink as Ops passes by with a tray of them, "These are quite good. Have ye had one yet?" he asked looking at the glass.


"Ah, that's the Rytainian Blue Frond Tea," Threel genuinely puffs out his chest with pride. "The tea leaves provide a natural sweetener that is delightful on the palette. I'm pleased that you find it enjoyable."


"We've nothing so sweet on Kuldar that grows from a natural source." D'Lar grins a wolfish baring of teeth and shakes his head causing his greasy hair to flop about his neck like limp eels. "Though some on Kuldar have managed to acquire a taste for it from shipments we've procured."


"Procured, indeed," Threel mumbles just loud enough that Asovil finds herself slightly startled by the indication she can only presume means the Rytainian ambassador is insinuating theft by the Kuldaran people. D'Lar seems not to notice, though the Andorian is positive that he heard.


McTavish continues staring at the liquid for a long moment as if remembering something. The last time he actually drank much of anything was at a friend's wedding prior to the posting on the Coronado. it was a small affair, just a few tents in a park in the middle of Washington—some park he couldn't remember the name of. He did recall that it had a wonderful view.


"Hurricane Ridge!" he says suddenly and randomly as he remembers the name of the park. "That was the place..." he continues under his breath and snapping his fingers. "Lieutenant Pressman and his bride to be. That's where I remember something like this from..." he points to the drink completely oblivious of the exchange between the delegates. "Ach, memories. Sometimes harder to pull data from than a fried isolinear chip!" he shakes his head a moment again, realizing he's rambling.


"Memories, indeed," D'Lar pounces, using the CEO's distracted comments to poke his ambush his counterpart in a very subtle way.


"I believe that a tour of the Peregrine would be an excellent way to have what remaining questions you may have answered," Asovil chimes in, surprising even herself as she impulsively reacts to the desire she feels to ward off potential hostilities. "If one has not already been arranged, perhaps Lieutenant Salad would be kind enough to do so." Unaware that she had mistaken the Ops department head's name for the green-leafed meal, she continues. "We have an impressive ship, and despite security considerations, I'd imagine a large portion of it could be showcased for your entertainment."


"Yes," Threel pulls the sour look he's giving D'Lar away as though it were being drawn in by a persistent tractor beam and forces a friendly smile back upon his orange lips. "I would find that amusing."


"I think I'll have to decline any such invitations," the Kuldaran dignitary waves his scaly hand as though to shoo the thought from his mind. "I've much to review in order to be fully prepared for the summit."


Glancing sidelong at Tochi, the blue-skinned beauty wonders at his thoughts. He appears calm and collected, engaged a minimum of what decorum calls for, witty, and in control, but she considers whether he is contemplative, astute, and observant.



Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 1 - Captain's Mess - 14:05



The silence in the room is palpable. Asovil finally deigns to regard Chief Crane's expression and studies it with unfeigned interest as Captain Drake continues. "If you wish to confer with your advocate, Chief Crane, you may do so now. I need to know which course you would prefer to take."


"There's no need to confer, Captain," Chief Crane's voice maintains a steady and level tone. "I am fully prepared to accept your ruling in this matter, sir."


Lt. Sh'iraolnas presses her lips together and finds herself surprisingly relieved by the CPO's decision. Knowing full well that Tochi is Lauren's advocate, having discussed some of the details at lunch, Asovil can only surmise that the woman has made the best possible decision for her future. Returning her attention to Captain Drake, the Andorian awaits the continuance of the Captain's Mast.


Judging by Captain Drake's disposition, Chief Crane's decision is satisfactory in the Chief Science Officer's opinion.


"Fair enough, Chief," Silas answers in what Asovil deems a neutral tone, "with that being the case, I will proceed to the heart of the matter."


The Captain pauses for a moment and looks around the room before fixing his gaze once again on Crane. The blue-skinned scientist takes the momentary lull to perform a similar assessment. Each of the officers present at the table were all accomplished in their poker faces so that any analysis is rendered inept. Slightly put out (though unaware as to why, exactly), Asovil returns her attention to her captain as he resumes the proceedings.


"This morning at oh eight thirty," Silas begins, "I had a meeting with Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas. As we recapped her impressions of her new department, she revealed to me that the two of you had a meeting yesterday evening, during which you confessed that you were, in fact, the individual responsible for the arrest of Lieutenant Tesenblen. According to Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas' report, you had concerns with the study of the wolfsbane and the potential impact in terms of safety to the crew and the mission."


Drake pauses for a moment. "I was told that you raised these concerns to Lieutenant Tesenblen, but that he was not swayed, and cited the containment plan he had developed and I had sanctioned. From what I understand, you felt that since I had already approved his research and his plan, that your concerns would fall on deaf ears. You then contacted security aboard Starbase 118 to report the illegal research that Lieutenant Tesenblen was conducting."


The Captain pauses again, and the holographic projectors leap to life displaying a time stamped communications log. Drake gestures to the projection.


"The communications log between the Peregrine and Starbase 118 appears to corroborate this account. Please note the highlighted entry—stardate 42135.3. Communication initiated from Chief Petty Officer Lauren Crane to Starbase 118 security, duration six minutes, twelve seconds."


The Captain sighs ever so slightly inviting a quizzical expression to momentarily flit across the Andorian woman's smooth features. "Furthermore, an interview with your roommate, one Chief Petty Officer Dana Cook, reveals that you told her an essentially identical story to the one you told Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas."


Silas interlaces his fingers atop the table and regards the accused. "Chief Crane, to be quite honest with you, the facts seem to be exceptionally clear. However, I will now give you the chance to present your version of the events in question. While I rather doubt that you will be able to tender any facts to call into question the veracity of the evidence I have related, it is possible that you may still present some mitigating circumstance of which I am not privy. This is your chance to speak, so please, include any information that you feel may be relevant to this proceeding."


With that, the Captain leans back in his chair and waits for the Chief's response. Lauren's earth-colored eyes sink to the enamelled tabletop for a moment and she breathes in deeply. Exhaling slowly, she makes her lips vanish in an expression of pressed consideration and then wets them as they appear once again with the tip of her tongue. Looking back towards Captain Drake, the diminutive woman affects an expression of still, resigned calm.


"Sir," she initiates, "when Lieutenant Tesenblen brought the wolfsbane on board, I dismissed it as another of his personal projects and assumed he had taken all of the necessary steps to resolve any concerns. However, once I learned that the summit delegation had chosen the Peregrine as their transportation, the thought struck me that the wolfsbane could be used by one side or the other to dismantle the peace talks by eliminating the opposing ambassador. I took my concerns to Lieutenant Tesenblen, and as you've already acknowledged, he dismissed them by stating that he had a proper containment field in place and that you, sir, had already approved his protocol.


"Having been informed that you, sir, were both privy to and accepting of his plan, I felt the need to take alternative action. This is where I know I went wrong, sir. I should have requested a meeting with Lieutenant Zai, or even you directly, sir. I know this. But at the time, I felt that there were no open lines of command through which I could resolve this potential threat to the mission and this ship." Lauren wets her lips again with the tip of her tongue and for the first time, Asovil witnesses her break from her stoic mask as her muddy eyes dart quickly towards where Tochi sits. The act is cause enough to start the Andorian woman's mind to mulling over the conversation she and the Trill had shared at lunch concerning the Mast, and she resides within those thoughts until Chief Crane continues.


"My reasoning was not, by any means, perfect, sir," the smallish woman acknowledges grimly. "I can assure you, though, that my actions were not malicious. Nor were they with the intent to do anything other than eliminate a potential threat to our mission.


"Everyone on board the Peregrine knows that Lieutenant Zai is, well, for lack of a more delicate way of phrasing it, your right-hand man. And this was occuring during the change in Ops leadership—" Asovil glances at the Risan seated next to Tochi and wonders when they'll have the opportunity to speak while Lauren continues. "—so, I felt that all of my immediate command options were either of a similar mind, or too new to the role to, perhaps, be of proper assistance. That sounds harsh, or mean, but I don't mean it to.


"I—I was at a loss, sir," she continues, holding herself in rigid poise despite the obvious emotion in her voice. "I figured that if I passed my concerns on to the security personnel at Starbase One-One-Eight, the concern could then become theirs, and if they decided it bore merit, well, then, someone from Starbase One-One-Eight could contact you. I never thought for a moment that they would come directly for Lieutenant Tesenblen and arrest him, nor that they would confiscate the majority of the lab, or cause this ship the problems that my actions have caused."


Lauren looks back to the table's surface and takes another deep breath before lifting her gaze to meet the unwaveringly stern eyes of her commanding officer. "I am fully aware of my error in circumventing the chain of command, sir, and I am wholly filled with regret at the action and the consequences thereof."


As she finishes, the gulping motion of her throat is very pronounced, though Asovil doesn't hear any sound to accompany it. Glancing from Chief Crane's sorrowful face to the rock-like demeanor of Captain Drake, Lt. Sh'iraolnas is caught by Tochi's words. The calm tone and diplomatic tremor in his voice draws her eyes like a Phertoni to a light.

Stardate 2365.02.08
USS Peregrine; Deck 2 - Captain's Mess - 19:22

In watching McTavish converse with Threel and D'Lar over the course of these last few minutes, Tochi had come to wonder about the newly appointed CEO's curious demeanor. This morning, when he had first met the Scotman, Lt Zai had attributed the man's barely restrained anxiety as a simple matter of having been, unexpectedly and rather unceremoniously, placed in charge of the entire department. Now, though, as he had a chance to observe the man with a bit more focus, Tochi couldn't help but think that the nervousness and uncertainty might be underlying traits of the man's character, he stopped short of the term "social anxiety disorder," but only just. McTavish seemed personable enough; knowledgeable, tactful, and even engaging in an oddly distracted sort of fashion,

We wonder if he doesn't spend more time in the Jefferies Tubes than he does with people, Tochi muses as the Engineer deftly maneuvers around Threel's pressing him on Peregrine's speed capabilities. We'll have to make time and get to know the man better.
",her top speeds are classified if memory serves. Without know'n what I'm allowed to divulge, I hope you understand that I canna give ye that information. But I can tell ya she's fast." Haemis shifts his weight, looking a bit agoraphobic in the process. "Ifinya get the chance," he continues, "and the Capt'n approves it, we can look into getting you a tour. They might already have one lined up for ye." He snags another drink as Crewman Pierce passes by with a tray of them. "These are quite good. Have ye had one yet?" he asked looking at the glass.
"Ah, that's the Rytainian Blue Frond Tea," Threel genuinely puffs out his chest with pride. "The tea leaves provide a natural sweetener that is delightful on the palette. I'm pleased that you find it enjoyable."


"We've nothing so sweet on Kuldar that grows from a natural source." D'Lar grins a wolfish baring of teeth and shakes his head causing his greasy hair to flop about his neck like limp eels. "Though some on Kuldar have managed to acquire a taste for it from shipments we've procured."


"Procured, indeed," Threel mumbles.

Tochi arches a brow at that but manages to keep from interjecting by lifting his mug of Kuldaran Froth and pouring a bit of the bitter brew over his tongue. There was an unvoiced accusation in those words and their tone that, while ignored by D'Lar, certainly wouldn't have gone unnoticed by any who might have been listening. The more time he spent in the ambassadors' company, the more Tochi was convinced that the roles he'd initially assigned to Threel and D'lar were, in fact, reversed. Despite his gruffness, D'Lar seemed the more diplomaticly sincere of the two, whereas Threel, elegantly accommodating pretenses aside, seemed to be allowing old wounds to fester.

"Hurricane Ridge!" he says suddenly and randomly as he remembers the name of the park. "That was the place..." he continues under his breath and snapping his fingers. "Lieutenant Pressman and his bride to be. That's where I remember something like this from..." he points to the drink completely oblivious of the exchange between the delegates. "Ach, memories. Sometimes harder to pull data from than a fried isolinear chip!" he shakes his head a moment again, realizing he's rambling.

The grin that dances across Tochi's features, then, might be perceived as a mixture of amusement and surprise; as if McTavish's sudden revelation had startled him from a reverie of his own, And sometimes far too easy, Mr McTavish, the Trill chuckles inwardly,

"Memories, indeed," D'Lar pounces, using the CEO's distracted comments to, at last, float a tactful retort to Threel's earlier insinuation.

It's not an easy journey to get to a place where you forgive others, Tochi almost felt compelled to interject, but it's a powerful place because it frees you, It was difficult to keep the words from moving from mind to mouth - speaking the thought aloud might be perceived as a slight by Threel and, perhaps, some tilting in the balance of bias where the Federation was concerned by both of the diplomats. Furthermore, it was not his place to attempt to influence the ambassadors one way or another where the impending summit was concerned. Captain Jacob's had made that abundantly clear, Kasru, be still.

"I believe that a tour of the Peregrine would be an excellent way to have what remaining questions you may have answered," Asovil chimes in, unwittingly saving Tochi from succumbing to the part of his personality that spent so many years as a diplomat. "If one has not already been arranged, perhaps Lieutenant Salad would be kind enough to do so." Unaware that she had mistaken the Ops department head's name for the green-leafed meal, she continues. "We have an impressive ship, and despite security considerations, I'd imagine a large portion of it could be showcased for your entertainment."

The smile on the Trill's face at Asovil's mispronunciation of Dio's name hinted at something a little more than amusement. For whatever reason, he found the Andorian beauty's propensity for muddling and mangling axioms and idioms truly endearing and he was loathe to correct her twisting of the Ops Chief's name, at the moment. Instead, he simply smiles and nods a silent assent that such a tour could likely be arranged before he takes another pull from his mug of Frosh.


"Yes," Threel pulls the sour look he's giving D'Lar away as though it were being drawn in by a persistent tractor beam and forces a friendly smile back upon his orange lips. "I would find that amusing."


"I think I'll have to decline any such invitations," the Kuldaran dignitary waves his scaly hand as though to shoo the thought from his mind. "I've much to review in order to be fully prepared for the summit."

"As we imagine both of you might, Ambassador D'Lar," Tochi smiles graciously, offering a nod to the Kuldaran, "Should you find an opening in your schedule and decide otherwise, don't hesitate to let us know.

Of course," he continues, offering the same smile as his gaze ticks to Threel, "I'm sure that you'll understand there will be areas of the ship that are, by necessity, restricted, but we're sure that a tour can be arranged that will familiarize you with the Saber-class. Lt McTavish and I will confer and come up with something for you."

"You know something of engineering, Lt Zai," Threel asks curiously, his wispy brows crawling higher on his forehead.

"A bit," Zai grins modestly, "though, we're certainly not of Mac's caliber. Our last post before being assigned to the Peregrine was actually on the Saber Class Development Project, in fact, our last assignment on that tour was to deliver this very ship to Captain Drake, We have some insight."

He chuckles softly and offers a faint shrug as his gaze lets go of Threel and dips to regard the contents of his mug for a second. "I seem to be in need of another drink," his green-gold eyes lift, again, and moved from face to face, lingering on Asovil's for perhaps a nanosecond longer than the others, "if you'll excuse us for a moment, gentlemen, we're inclined to try some of that Blue Frond Tea."

((OOC: Tochi will meander to the drink station, at this point, unless a drink suddenly appears in his hand. Room for interjection and such, throughout, of course.))

Stardate 2365.02.09
USS Peregrine; Deck 3 - NCO's Quarters - 0930

"You're comfortable with all of this, then," Lt Zai asks as they come to the end of their discussion regarding the Captain's Mast.

"As comfortable as I can be, yes, sir," CPO Crane nods faintly. She offers up a wistful smile, then, and adds; "More comfortable than I would be with a Court Martial."

The smile Tochi offers in return as he rises to his feet and gathers his things is sympathetic and reassuring. "Understandable," he says, resting a hand on her shoulder again, "Just keep in mind that, very shortly, this will be the past,"

"New beginnings and better memories, right?"

"Precisely right, Lauren," the XO nods, taking his hand away and making for the door, "We'll see you again shortly before the proceedings, Chief. If you have any questions or simply want to talk before then, don't hesitate to contact me."

"I won't, sir," Lauren replies as Tochi reaches the hatchway, "Thank you."

"You're quite welcome," he answers before cueing the door and stepping into the corridor, "Get something to eat and get some rest. We'll see you at 1345."

A few minutes later, Tochi steps through the door of his office and, absently tossing his now empty coffee cup into the replicators recycle port, settles into the chair behind his desk. Leaning back in the seat, he presses his hands to his face, rubbing at his eyes and heaving a drowsy sigh that readily evolves into a yawn. We should take our own advice, he thinks, his hands falling away from his face as he sits up and blinks at the glossy surface of the desk, Close our eyes for a moment and try to steal some rest where we can. He notices an indicator on his display, then, alerting him to new, unread messages in his queue and decides that, as wise as that advice might be, now might not be the best moment to pay it heed.

"Coffee," he calls to the replicator as his fingers flit across the console, calling up the new messages, "Bolian; double black."

He reaches for the second cup of strong Bolian brew as the list of messages appears and indulges in a sip from the mug before allowing his eyes to focus on the display. Surely the queue will include little more than updated reports from Flight Control and the standard administrative missives, things he could attend to during his duty shift, if necessary. There were, of course, a smattering of those expected communiques awaiting his attention but, tucked away among them was a message that caused his smile to bloom full around the rim of the coffee cup. Setting the cup aside, he taps the console, opening the message,


To: Lt Zai, T.
From: Lt(jg) Sh'iraolnas, A.
Subject: re: Schedule?


Good morning to you, as well!


I appreciate you checking in on me. My day is proving to be more routine than yesterday, but would be improved by a lunch date with you, sir. What time shall I meet you, and where?


Sincerely,


Asovil

A happy warmth swells in his chest and seems to creep along the twin rowns of spots, spreading into his cheeks as he reads the reply, mentally hearing the words recited in her own voice. Practically beaming at her acceptance of the offer, Tochi keys in a response:

To: Lt(jg) Sh'iraolnas, A.
From: Lt Zai, T.
Subject: re: Schedule?

I am pleased to hear that it's a bit less hectic for you, today. Chaos makes it difficult to settle in.

As I am technically not on duty until 1500, my schedule is, for the most part, open until the Captain's Mast at 1400. As to location, I'm interested more in the company than the cuisine; I'll leave the choice of place and time at your discretion.

Looking forward to seeing you,

Tochi

He taps the "send" icon before he truly realizes that the way the response was written might be interpreted as overly friendly, maybe even overtly flirtatious, and, in that split-second of panic, is almost sure that he feels his heart skip a beat. Oh, Tochi! You're coming very close to plucking the pins from a feather ape! His cheeks flush as his heart starts again and he blinks at the screen, knowing he can't unsend the message but wishing he would have thought his reply through a bit more carefully. Then it strikes him that, were he being honest with himself about it, he was flirting with her, Had been flirting with her since probably halfway through their dinner together, yesterday,

"Heh," he chuffs, shaking his head and reaching for the coffee cup, again, "That slipped by us just like the wolfsbane, didn't it?"

Stardate 2365.02.09
USS Peregrine; Deck 1 - Captain's Mess - 1355

As he had promised her, Lt Zai had arrived at Chief Crane's quarters fifteen minutes ahead of the scheduled Captain's Mast, and personally escorted her to the venue. On the way, there had been a quick rehashing of their meeting, earlier this morning, and confirmation and confidence that the decisions made then were still applicable. The conversation faded as they approached the Captain's Mess, though, and, as Tochi ushered her to her seat at one end of the table, Lauren fell silent and somber. For long moments, it set the tone of the room. That tone changed only slightly when Asovil arrived a few moments later. The silence held, as did the solemnity, but, as the two women's eyes met, a faint chilliness seemed to creep into the air. That icy sliver needled the atmosphere until Lauren abandoned the look and let her eyes fall back to the table and, by the time Berk and Lasad arrived, seemed to have melt away altogether.

Tochi's gaze pans the table and meets Asovil's for a moment. He can't help but smile when her cheeks darken a bit, he manages to restrain it to an acceptable degree, his recollections of their lunch together certainly would have seen him offer one much brighter had decorum allowed, and, regretfully, he has to force his eyes from hers in order to fully control the impulse. He drags his attentions, instead, to the PADD on the table before him, and forces himself to re-read notes he had memorized hours ago. It takes a moment to fully pull his thoughts away from the lovely Andorian across the table but, before the Captain strides into the room, the Trill manages to center himself fully on the matter at hand.

The door slides open and the Captain enters, stick-straight in posture and unbiased in countenance, his gaze sweeping the assemblage of face about the table as he takes his seat. "Since it would appear that we are all here," he intones flatly, "I see no reason to delay this. If no one has an objection, let us begin."

"No objections on our part, sir," Tochi answers.

((OOC: Assuming none from anyone else))

"Very well," Drake nods, "Let the record show that we are assembled here today for the purpose of conducting a non-judicial proceeding in the matter of a gross violation of the chain of command by Chief Petty Officer Lauren Crane." The Captain pauses for a moment to allow his words to sink in before fixing the Chief with his hard gaze.


"Before we continue, Chief, I would like to clarify some potential questions." Silas takes a breath. "Since you are not a commissioned officer, Chief, and further influenced by the fact that we are under weigh, I am fully within my rights as Captain of this vessel to compel you to accept this non judicial proceeding. However, I am willing to give you to option of a formal court martial, if you so desire."

Tochi can't help but notice that Asovil seems a little more than mildly surprised by the Captain's offer, her antennae twitched just so and her sapphire eyes snapped to his just as he took notice. He wished he could have offered her some explanation as to why the full tribunal had been offered but to do so would have been inappropriate. Even a passing glance could be misconstrued in this moment and, as such, the XO forced his features to remain a mask of serenity.

Chief Crane remains motionless, facing Drake with a solemn expression of remorse and acceptance as the Captain glances around the table.

"You should carefully consider this choice, Chief," Drake suggests, "If I find you guilty in this non-judicial proceeding, you will have no true method of recourse; you will simply be forced to accept any punishment that I choose to hand out. Such an action will almost certainly have a negative impact upon your Starfleet career. Bear in mind that, unlike in a formal legal trial, I need not be convinced of your guilt beyond a reasonable doubt; I need only decide that a preponderance of the evidence points to your guilt. At a non-judicial proceeding such as this, you are entitled to retain an advocate to help plead your case, but even though I have the utmost faith that whoever you choose to be your advocate will in fact do their best to represent your interests, the fact remains that we lack a true legal specialist aboard the Peregrine, and certainly do not have anyone truly trained to defend breaches of maritime law."

"With that being said, if you elect to take your chance with a court martial," the Captain continues, "understand that you will be relieved of duty and confined to quarters until such time as we are able to arrange for your transport to a Starbase or similar Federation outpost where you can stand trial. If this does go to a formal legal action, I will pursue it aggressively; filing charges that will include items such as dereliction of duty, conduct unbecoming, and any and all technicalities that I can find that may apply. While it is certainly possible that you may be able to win your case in a formal legal proceeding, given the evidence I have seen thus far, I rather doubt that will be the situation. If you are convicted at a court martial, you can expect to spend real time in the brig, and can almost guarantee that your Starfleet career will be over.

If you wish to confer with your advocate, Chief Crane, you may do so now. I need to know which course you'd prefer to take."

Tochi breathed in, his gaze tracing a circuit around the table during the silence that hung like a pall over the room.He had prepared Lauren for much of this earlier in the morning and she had seemed to fully comprehend what he'd told her. She hadn't chosen to revisit any of it with him throughout the course of the day, either, so, unless the petite scientist had had a change of heart that she hadn't made her advocate aware of, Tochi was certain he knew what would come next.

"There's no need to confer, Captain," Chief Crane's voice maintains a steady and level tone. "I am fully prepared to accept your ruling in this matter, sir."

"Fair enough, Chief," Silas answers, "With that being the case, I will proceed to the heart of the matter."

The Captain pauses for a moment and looks around the room before fixing his gaze once again on Crane. "This morning at oh eight thirty," Silas begins, "I had a meeting with Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas. As we recapped her impressions of her new department, she revealed to me that the two of you had a meeting yesterday evening, during which you confessed that you were, in fact, the individual responsible for the arrest of Lieutenant Tesenblen. According to Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas' report, you had concerns with the study of the wolfsbane and the potential impact in terms of safety to the crew and the mission,"

As Silas proceeds with the facts in evidence, all of which are undisputed and undeniable, Tochi carefully watches the faces around the table, looking away only to review the items that the Captain displays in the course of detailing the case or to double check his own notes. When, after the Captain's presentation has ended and Chief Crane is presented the opportunity to speak, Tochi regards the woman and offers a faint nod of assurance.

Lauren's earth-colored eyes sink to the enamelled tabletop for a moment and she breathes in deeply. Exhaling slowly, she makes her lips vanish in an expression of pressed consideration and then wets them as they appear once again with the tip of her tongue. Looking back towards Captain Drake, the diminutive woman affects an expression of still, resigned calm.


"Sir," she initiates, "when Lieutenant Tesenblen brought the wolfsbane on board, I dismissed it as another of his personal projects and assumed he had taken all of the necessary steps to resolve any concerns. However, once I learned that the summit delegation had chosen the Peregrine as their transportation, the thought struck me that the wolfsbane could be used by one side or the other to dismantle the peace talks by eliminating the opposing ambassador. I took my concerns to Lieutenant Tesenblen, and as you've already acknowledged, he dismissed them by stating that he had a proper containment field in place and that you, sir, had already approved his protocol,"

Honestly and plainly, just as we discussed, Tochi thinks in the Chief's direction as she continues, Well done, Lauren.

"Having been informed that you, sir, were both privy to and accepting of his plan, I felt the need to take alternative action. This is where I know I went wrong, sir. I should have requested a meeting with Lieutenant Zai, or even you directly, sir. I know this. But at the time, I felt that there were no open lines of command through which I could resolve this potential threat to the mission and this ship." Lauren wets her lips again with the tip of her tongue and for the first time, breaks from her stoic mask and her muddy eyes dart quickly towards where Tochi sits.

"You're doing fine, Chief," he murmurs softly, offering a nod and a softly encouraging smile, "Take a breath, take your time."

Lauren heeds the Trill's advice, taking a beat to draw in a measured breath before proceeding again. "My reasoning was not, by any means, perfect, sir," the smallish woman acknowledges grimly. "I can assure you, though, that my actions were not malicious. Nor were they with the intent to do anything other than eliminate a potential threat to our mission.


"Everyone on board the Peregrine knows that Lieutenant Zai is, well, for lack of a more delicate way of phrasing it, your right-hand man. And this was occuring during the change in Ops leadership—" Asovil glances at the Risan seated next to Tochi and wonders when they'll have the opportunity to speak while Lauren continues. "—so, I felt that all of my immediate command options were either of a similar mind, or too new to the role to, perhaps, be of proper assistance. That sounds harsh, or mean, but I don't mean it to.


"I—I was at a loss, sir," she continues, holding herself in rigid poise despite the obvious emotion in her voice. "I figured that if I passed my concerns on to the security personnel at Starbase One-One-Eight, the concern could then become theirs, and if they decided it bore merit, well, then, someone from Starbase One-One-Eight could contact you. I never thought for a moment that they would come directly for Lieutenant Tesenblen and arrest him, nor that they would confiscate the majority of the lab, or cause this ship the problems that my actions have caused."


Lauren looks back to the table's surface and takes another deep breath before lifting her gaze to meet the unwaveringly stern eyes of her commanding officer. "I am fully aware of my error in circumventing the chain of command, sir, and I am wholly filled with regret at the action and the consequences thereof."

Tochi shifts in his seat as Chief Crane concludes her response and, again, offers her a heartening expression. Then, as his eyes travel from one end of the table to the other, he sighs softly from behind a humorless grin. "As Chief Crane's advocate, Captain Drake," he says, meeting Silas' gaze, "we would like to offer a few words, if we may."

((OOC: Assuming no objections and a "Please do, Lieutenant" or some such.))

"Thank you, sir.

All of us at this table," Lt Zai begins, his hazel eyes fixing pointedly, in turn, on each of the other faces in attendance, "indeed, all of us aboard this ship, are aware of how serious an infraction it is to circumvent the chain of command. It is instilled in us from our first day at the Academy and Basic training and is a vital part of maintaining order and discipline, not just aboard our own ship but throughout Starfleet. Chief Crane is no exception to that rule and, by her own admission, is well and painfully aware that she willfully violated this most basic of tenets in her actions. She does not deny her guilt and she appears before you today, sir, prepared to accept whatever consequences you may impose.

Her guilt established and uncontested, Captain, and having personally conferred with her, this morning, and heard her testimony before you, today, we ask that you consider some leniency in your decision. Until the moment Chief Crane contacted Starfleet Security while we were berthed at Starbase One-One-Eight, she has been an exemplary NCO with a service record free of reprimands of any sort and liberally peppered with commendations and recognition in her field. She has been an asset to not just her department but to this ship and her crew as a whole. With that in mind, and giving credence to what she has confessed in earnest here, today, we can't help but wonder if we do not share some culpability in her transgression. When she told us that she believed her concerns would fall on deaf ears had she brought them to us, I know I certainly felt some responsibility."

The Trill looks almost apologetically at Lauren, then sighs, again, and allows his gaze to travel the table once more before meeting Silas', once more. "As the Peregrine's Executive officer, sir, we almost find ourselves ashamed as much as confused as to why one of our crew might have so little faith in us to go to the lengths that she did, risking her career in the process. Furthermore, if I may be frank, sir,"

((OOC: Again, assuming no objections and/or that Silas won't consider the following to be insubordinate))

",had I been made aware of the nature of Lieutenant Tesenblen's project, I, personally, might have addressed many of the concerns that Chief Crane had presented, thereby assuaging her perceived need to circumnvent the CoC to begin with. It has also come to our attention that, while Lt Tesenblen's experiment and its containment protocols had command approval, the method in which he obtained his samples were far outside what I know you would have approved had you been made aware, sir. That fact only came to light after Horatio had already been detained, though, we believe he may have shared it with Chief Crane, thereby inadvertently coloring her opinion of our open-mindedness and, perhaps, leaving her of the opinion that she had no other recourse.

Again, sir," Lt Zai concludes, "I present these items for your consideration in determining appropriate consequences in regards to this matter, not in any attempt to justify the Chief's actions, nor to deflect or deny guilt.

Thank you, sir."

Stardate 2365.02.09
USS Peregrine; Deck 2 - Lt Zai's Office - 1155

Tochi had spent the past couple of hours reviewing the details of Chief Crane's case. Examining and re-examining every detail of every document and deposition, reviewing his memories and notes of his own conversation with the woman, earlier, and attempting to come up with something that would ease the punishment Silas chose to levy upon her. It had become obvious to him that, had the woman had more faith in the officers above her, she might not have felt as compelled to skirt the chain of command and, as such, not have found herself in this predicament to begin with. In fact, to some degree, he felt guilty about it, himself. For the most part, Tochi liked to think that, since he'd been appointed Drake's second, he made himself open and available to the entirety of the Peregrine's crew, but, somehow, somewhere, it felt, now, as if he had, perhaps failed Lauren in this.

That's something we might use, he had decided after a time. As embarrassing as it might be for him to admit (and possibly as insubordinate as it may make him look if he pointed it out during the NJP), there was some modicum of weighty truth in it which may serve to spare CPO Crane form more punishment that she truly deserved. Her crime had been borne out of a perception that she had no other options, after all, and, in no small way, he felt as if he had contributed to that. While he felt that he could, perhaps, use that to duly influence the severity of Lauren's punishment, it still, at the same time, almost sickened him to admit that, in the end, there was some culpability in all of this that lay at his feet.

He had worked and worked with this frayed end of a fact until he'd managed to find the words to give it a proper and respectful voice in the proceedings to come. In fact, he'd thrown itself at it to such an extent that, when he'd, at last, found the words that he thought would most succinctly express the thought to Silas, the Trill found himself almost mentally spent. Given the night he'd had, compounded by the efforts he'd already put into today's happenings, a quick nap was sounding better and better all the time. Tochi had glanced at the chronometer when he made that determination and noted that, despite how alluring the prospect of an hour or so of sleep might be, the prospect of his pending lunch date with the new CSO held more charm, by far.

Fortunately, in the ten years since he'd been joined, Tochi had learned that when sleep was elusive, music was a passable alternative, especially if one just allowed it to flow from the depths of their soul, finding that perfect song in the moment and, as one's fingers instinctually played the notes, allowed the lyrics, the sentiment, of the song to spill out unfiltered. There was a song in him, now, aching to free itself. He could feel it welling just under his heart, threatening to burst his throat and fingers like a dam too weak to hold back the waters it vainly tried to hold back. Stubbornly, he tried to fight the pressure as it built, determined not to succumb to the varied perspectives that clashed within him where all of this was concerned, The part of his personality that came from Odia was wont to advocate swift, stern and unwaveringly severe repercussions, while Kasru's portion encouraged compassion and diplomacy. Isri, Zai's first host, saw the issue as nothing more than another star-chart through which he best possible course must be plotted; and Dirven's thoughts, well, Dirven's thoughts, had Tochi entertained them more than he had, might have focused intently on the lovely Andorian with whom there was a lunch date scheduled within the hour, but, given the overlap of all of Zai's hosts, just now, it was music that came to the forefront where that personality was concerned.
"Computer," the Trill calls out, having wrestled long enough with his own thoughts, "is there a holosuite available?"

The computer blips and chirps as it processes the query, then answers; =/\=Holosuite Two is currently unoccupied and available. The next scheduled program has been reserved for 1240.=/\=

"Reserve the next twenty minutes on Holosuite Two for Lt Zai," Tochi says, already rising from his seat and tapping a set of specific parameters into the console before skirting his desk on the way to the door "ready a grand Trillian piano and the atmospheric conditions that we've just provided."

=/\=Acknowledged,=/\= the computer responds just as Tochi strolls through the door of his office into the corridor, =/\=Program compiled.=/\=

Deck 5 - Holosuite 2 - 1203


Tochi strolls into the holosuite, it's atmosphere defined by the piano beneath a single, yellow spotlight on a nondescript stage, the flickering light of uncounted candles arranged in a semi-circle just outside of the halo cast by the spot, and a silent, unseen audience just beyond. He makes his way to the piano and takes the bench without so much as a glance at where the muted audience looms and, for long moments, simply lets his cool fingers play at their will across the keys. After a moment, though, the random notes congeal into the facsimile of a melody and, as the melody he seeks works its way to the forefront of his thoughts, the song that had been hiding in his subconscious worked its way forward. His fingers struck the keys of the piano without thought as his eyes drifted shut and the chords of the sung wafted into the air much to the pleasure of the simulated audience.

When the pattering rainfall of respectful applause fell away, the Trill found himself singing the song that had invaded his thoughts and drawn him to the suite with all of the conviction and passion that he'd discovered in his reviews of Chief Crane's case, and his ever warming thoughts of Asovil,

Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains within the sound of silence

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
'Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp

When my eyes were stabbed
By the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening

People writing songs
That voices never share
And no one dare
Disturb the sound of silence

"Fools, " said I, "you do not know
Silence, like a cancer, grows.
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you."

But my words like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon God they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
And the words that it was forming

And the sign said,
"The words of the prophets
Are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls."
And whispered in the sound of silence,

His fingers played gently over the last notes of the ancient song, and, as those notes faded away on the air in the non-existent venue, he let his eyes drift open and his trepidation fade with those waning chords. As the invisible crowd pattered the air with its applause, Tochi drew in a long, deep breath that, combined with the emotion of the song he'd just played, stilled and centered his spirit, and he smiled into the candle-lit air as the applause faded like the end of a rainfall on the pavement,

"Tochi?" he heard his name called from the fringes of the penumbra, and the soothed smile that played on his lips brightened and warmed when he recognized the voice that called it as Asovil's.

"Hello, Lieutenant," he sighed softly in response to her hail, "are we late for lunch?"

Stardate 2365.02.08 (Monday - 42136.5)
USS Peregrine Deck 2 - Captain's Mess - 19:22



Haemis finishes off his drink and smiles warmly. "Tis a fast ship. But her top speeds are classified if memory serves. Without know'n what I'm allowed to divulge, I hope you understand that I canna give ye that information. But I can tell ya she's fast." he shifts his weight, fighting that nervous feeling at being in a crowd, even though it may be a small crowd. "Ifinya get the chance, and the Capt'n approves it, we can look into getting you a tour. They might already have one lined up for ye." he snags another drink as Ops passes by with a tray of them, "These are quite good. Have ye had one yet?" he asked looking at the glass.


"Ah, that's the Rytainian Blue Frond Tea," Threel genuinely puffs out his chest with pride. "The tea leaves provide a natural sweetener that is delightful on the palette. I'm pleased that you find it enjoyable."


"We've nothing so sweet on Kuldar that grows from a natural source." D'Lar grins a wolfish baring of teeth and shakes his head causing his greasy hair to flop about his neck like limp eels. "Though some on Kuldar have managed to acquire a taste for it from shipments we've procured."


"Procured, indeed," Threel mumbles just loud enough that Asovil finds herself slightly startled by the indication she can only presume means the Rytainian ambassador is insinuating theft by the Kuldaran people. D'Lar seems not to notice, though the Andorian is positive that he heard.


McTavish continues staring at the liquid for a long moment as if remembering something. The last time he actually drank much of anything was at a friend's wedding prior to the posting on the Coronado. it was a small affair, just a few tents in a park in the middle of Washington—some park he couldn't remember the name of. He did recall that it had a wonderful view.


"Hurricane Ridge!" he says suddenly and randomly as he remembers the name of the park. "That was the place..." he continues under his breath and snapping his fingers. "Lieutenant Pressman and his bride to be. That's where I remember something like this from..." he points to the drink completely oblivious of the exchange between the delegates. "Ach, memories. Sometimes harder to pull data from than a fried isolinear chip!" he shakes his head a moment again, realizing he's rambling.


"Memories, indeed," D'Lar pounces, using the CEO's distracted comments to poke his ambush his counterpart in a very subtle way.


"I believe that a tour of the Peregrine would be an excellent way to have what remaining questions you may have answered," Asovil chimes in, surprising even herself as she impulsively reacts to the desire she feels to ward off potential hostilities. "If one has not already been arranged, perhaps Lieutenant Salad would be kind enough to do so." Unaware that she had mistaken the Ops department head's name for the green-leafed meal, she continues. "We have an impressive ship, and despite security considerations, I'd imagine a large portion of it could be showcased for your entertainment."


"Yes," Threel pulls the sour look he's giving D'Lar away as though it were being drawn in by a persistent tractor beam and forces a friendly smile back upon his orange lips. "I would find that amusing."


"I think I'll have to decline any such invitations," the Kuldaran dignitary waves his scaly hand as though to shoo the thought from his mind. "I've much to review in order to be fully prepared for the summit."


Glancing sidelong at Tochi, the blue-skinned beauty wonders at his thoughts. He appears calm and collected, engaged a minimum of what decorum calls for, witty, and in control, but she considers whether he is contemplative, astute, and observant.


"As we imagine both of you might, Ambassador D'Lar," Tochi smiles graciously, offering a nod to the Kuldaran, "Should you find an opening in your schedule and decide otherwise, don't hesitate to let us know.


"Of course," he continues, offering the same smile as his gaze ticks to Threel, "I'm sure that you'll understand there will be areas of the ship that are, by necessity, restricted, but we're sure that a tour can be arranged that will familiarize you with the Saber-class. Lieutenant McTavish and I will confer and come up with something for you."


"You know something of engineering, Lieutenant Zai?" Threel asks curiously, his wispy brows crawling higher on his forehead.


"A bit." Zai grins modestly, "Though, we're certainly not of Mac's caliber. Our last post before being assigned to the Peregrine was actually on the Saber Class Development Project," Asovil regards him with deeper interest. Such an assignment wasn't something she had imagined him enduring for long—too sedentary. "In fact, our last assignment on that tour was to deliver this very ship to Captain Drake. We have some insight."


He chuckles softly and offers a faint shrug as his gaze lets go of Threel and dips to regard the contents of his mug for a second. "I seem to be in need of another drink," his green-gold eyes lift, again, and move from face to face, lingering on Asovil's for perhaps a nanosecond longer than the others. "If you'll excuse us for a moment, gentlemen, we're inclined to try some of that Blue Frond Tea."


The Andorian turns her head to watch him sashay away, but realizes that such an action might cause questions to be raised in a situation where premature assumptions might be damaging to all involved and returns her deep blue gaze to the delegates.


"Ah," D'Lar's declaration is guttural and deep. "I'm inclined to move this conversation to the table. This has been a long day and I long for the succulent blood of the KoKomta to linger for a time on my tongue."


"That sounds delightful," Threel groans, but extends his hand towards the table as though being the gracious host. "Shall we, then?"


Not needing any further prompting, Asovil turns and gracefully glides about the table to her chair. Once more seated, she waits and watches the actions of more experienced souls in this setting to take her ease and sup.




------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 1 - Chief Science Officer's Office - 09:35



... further than the past test marks. The containment field appears to not be sustainable after a capacity threshold of ~12% dark matter has been achieved. Particle Alignment Fields seem to fluctuate with the displacement of normal matter perhaps due to the increase of density. I'm seeking your assistance with the physics involved in the PA Field's algorithms. I've included my previous calculations along with recent modifications—



=/\= Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas,=/\= the computer's pleasant female voice interrupts her typed missive giving reason for the Andorian woman to pause. =/\= You have a new message from Lieutenant Zai. =/\=


Dark blue lips feel parched and her heart rate elevates with the words. She had set the alert moments after she had sent her final draft to Tochi's original message, but even knowing that the alert would eventually sound isn't enough to prepare her for the flood of excitement now that it has.


"Thank you," she replies through what seems to her to be a desert residing on her tongue. Momentarily saving the draft of the letter she is writing to Dr. Ster, a Vulcan mathematician and theoretical physicist of some repute that she has enlisted in the past to assist her with this experiment, the blue-skinned woman accesses her newly arrived messages. Filtering isn't necessary as Tochi's is the first in the list along with thirty-three additional unread messages from across the known Systems. Long, smooth fingers pause just before touching the screen and for a moment Asovil is worried about what she's about to read.


"You are an Andorian Imperial Guard and accomplished scientist," she chides in a stern tone. "No mere words can possibly be this intimidating."


Still, she finds those last two centimeters of air between her fingertips and the amoled screen's surface thicker than air's density should be requiring an act of sheer will to finish the action. Childish, she observes harshly as the screen responds and Tochi's communication replaces the inbox.


To: Lt(jg) Sh'iraolnas, A.
From: Lt Zai, T.
Subject: re re: Schedule?


I am pleased to hear that it's a bit less hectic for you, today. Chaos makes it difficult to settle in.


As I am technically not on duty until 1500, my schedule is, for the most part, open until the Captain's Mast at 1400. As to location, I'm interested more in the company than the cuisine; I'll leave the choice of place and time at your discretion.


Looking forward to seeing you,


Tochi


Concern flutters from her chest like a butterfly newly emerged from its chrysalis and lites upon her lips in the form of a gentle smile. So great the impression that she finds herself touching her lips with two fingers from her left hand and in surprised embarrassment, pushes her hand between her thighs in order to keep it from springing to life of its own accord once more.


"He's leaving it up to me," she wonders out loud. "But I don't even know the ship yet!" Brow furrowing is accompanied by antenna laying low across her silky white hair as her brilliant mind begins to sort through potential options. There's the mess hall, the Airie, a holodeck, perhaps? Using her free right hand, the young officer access the holodeck schedule on her personal computer. Scheduled, she acknowledges grimly. Then, brushing her tamed hair back over her right ear unnecessarily, she leans back in her chair and begins to chew on her bottom lip.


The Airie did have good food, but it wasn't exactly private, shocked at her own line of thought, Asovil blinks. Privacy isn't necessary at this point in time. I have barely met the man and we both have reputations to uphold. The Airie will do fine.

Sufficiently chastised by her inner Imperial Guard Instructor, she sets about writing her reply.
To: Lt Zai, T.
From: Lt(jg) Sh'iraolnas, A.
Subject: re: re: re: Schedule?


Then, 12:30 hours at the Airie. I shall see you there, and I shall have bells on.


Asovil


There, she quickly pushes the send button before she could second guess herself. Providing her left hand company, the lieutenant slips her right hand between her thighs and leans forward, staring at the indicator that the message has been sent with too wide sapphire eyes. Almost three seconds pass before the notice that her draft remains incomplete catches her attention. Giving her head a slight shake to remove the cobwebs that had been developing, the missive is returned to prominent position on her screen and the work continued.


Providing additional information for Dr. Ster takes up the majority of the next couple of hours. Finishing the communication and striking send provides the scientist with a sense of accomplishment that is short-lived as she returns to her inbox and begins to sort through her messages.


Finding more than ten from her immediate staff regarding requests for assistance in problem solving, requisitions, and introductions, the young officer quickly sorts through priorities and then begins to answer them with all of the formal alacrity she can muster.


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


"Yes?" Asovil looks up at the bulkhead above her doorway as though that's where the voice hails from.


=/\=This is PO Rogers.=/\=


The scientist leans back in her chair and waits for the chemist to continue. Two seconds pass. Three seconds pass. Four seconds— "Yes, Petty Officer?" she finally asks in exasperation.


=/\=I'm seeking permission to go to sickbay, sir.=/\=


"You're off duty, PO Rogers, is that correct?"


=/\=Yes, sir.=/\=


"Well," she shakes her head and turns her attention back to the computer screen. "You don't need my permission to go to sick bay. What's your reason?"


=/\=Chemical burn.=/\=


This gives the department head pause. "How bad?"


=/\=Right hand, forearm, thigh, and, uh, groin.=/\=


"What in the world are you doing—never mind. Get yourself to sick bay immediately, PO Rogers."


=/\=Yes, sir.=/\=


Shaking her head, Asovil uses her tongue to feel the ridges on her teeth as she attempts to comprehend what had just happened. Seconds pass and she finally gives up, rises, and strides out of her office while striking her comm badge. "Computer. Where was PO Rogers when he contacted me most recently?"


=/\=Petty Officer Rogers was located in the Chemistry Lab.=/\=


"What's going on?" Ensign Maize calls out as Asovil makes her way towards the lab door.


"Rogers has just experienced a chem burn that sounds like it may have been pretty extreme." Asovil pauses and turns to look at Maize with a level gaze. "Get to sick bay and make sure he makes it there. Keep me informed."


"Yes, sir."


Lt. Sh'iraolnas doesn't wait for Ensign Maize, but returns to her determined efforts of achieving the Chem Lab in short order. Upon her arrival, the doors steam open revealing a laboratory filled with beakers, tubes, and a noxious olive-green hued haze. Stopped just outside of the door by the sight of the potentially dangerous gas, the scientist immediately closes the doors.


"Computer, analyze the air contaminate within the chem lab," she instructs the ship's computer as she places her hands on her hips and looks down at her polished black boot tips.


=/\=Analyzing.=/\=


The soft sounds of boots crossing the carpeted corridor draw Asovil's attention. Strolling down the hall with a PADD in hand is a young Terran woman with shock-red hair and a studious expression upon her face. She looks up from her reading long enough to note the Andorian and her eyes widen slightly.


"Och!" the word that escapes her cherry red lips is unfamiliar to the CSO. The petty officer snaps a hasty salute and stops dead in her tracks a couple of meters from the Andorian woman. "Lieutenant!"


Unaware that her expression exhibits worry, Asovil returns the salute without turning from her severe and impatient stance in front of the door.


"Oh, uh," the red-head drops the salute and timidly points towards the door. "Is there a problem with the door, then? Can you no' get inside?"


"There's no problem with the door, Petty Officer," Lt. Sh'iraolnas responds crisply.


"I see," a broad and friendly smile dashes itself against the other woman's even white teeth. "Rogers can be a wee bi' o' a intimidatin' bloke, but you get use'ta ‘im after a time."


"I'm no—"


=/\=Analysis complete. Contaminates include 2-mercaptoethanol, Sodium Azide, and Tetrahydrofuran.=/\=


"Flush the room!" Asovil immediately addresses the computer with such force and urgency in her voice that the smaller red-headed woman takes a step back.


=/\=Flushing the room.=/\=


"Is tha', um, bad?"


The Andorian glances to the petty officer and immediately realizes that the woman is genuinely concerned. A concern that penetrates the call to action the air analysis had instigated. Chewing the inside of her bottom lip, Asovil considers her response. The petty officer is wearing the red and black uniform of Command and Flight, but the blue-skinned woman is sure she hasn't seen her about yet. Knowing nothing of this Terran, the CSO makes her decision on how to proceed.


"It has been resolved, but yes. Had someone wandered in there without consideration of the threat, they would likely be severely injured. Perhaps even killed."


"Lordy!" the woman breathes and regards the door with wide eyes. "Is Rogers in there?"


"No." Asovil keeps her own gaze leveled with the woman. "Are you two close?"


"Close?" Guffaws the red-head, bending over at the waist and wheezing through her humor as she clutches the PADD to her stomach. "No! No. Jus' concerned fer the safety o' all the crew, Lieutenant."


"What's your name, Petty Officer?" Asovil continues to regard the woman through narrowed eyes and remains uncertain her response is entirely necessary.


"Petty Officer Secon' Class, Megan Owen, sir!" the PO straightens and wipes the moisture from her crinkled eyes, still very much amused.


"Well, PO Owen," raising her thin, white eyebrows, the Andorian tilts her head to the side and allows her antennae to press forward a bit. "Are you on duty?"


"Oh, no, sir." Megan shakes her head causing her bunched up, curled hair to bounce about the back of her neck. "No' til Beta Shift."


"Fine. Does the Peregrine have any hazmat suits on hand?"


"I dunno, sir," PO Owen shrugs. "Do ya want me t' check with Engineerin'?"


"No, but thank you." Returning her attention to the door, Asovil brushes the imagined strands of hair over her left ear and replaces her hand on her hip. "I don't want to trouble you from your leasure time."


"Tis no trouble, sir," Megan quips. "Truly. I'm happy t' help."


"I appreciate your consideration, Petty Officer, but I'll get this handled."


"Yes, sir," Megan nods, the pretty smile still on her elfish, freckled face. "Have a good day, Lieutenant."


"You too."


Waiting until the bubbly little red-head has moved on down the corridor, Asovil strikes her badge and says, "Lt. Sh'iraolnas to Engineering."


=/\=Engineering here.=/\=


"There's been a chemical spill in the Chem Lab," she informs them. "Will you please send a crew with hazmat suits to clean it up? The chemicals have been flushed from the air in the room, but one of my team was injured and the contaminates might still be on interior surfaces. Use extreme caution."


=/\=Acknowledged.=/\=


"Computer," the Andorian promptly changes subjects. "Lock this door and do not allow any non-Engineering personnel to enter without my authorization."


=/\=Acknowledged, Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas.=/\=


"Computer?" Beginning to walk back towards Lab One, the CSO begins yet another request of the ship's systems. "Did PO Rogers make it to sick bay?"


=/\=PO Rogers arrived in sick bay at twelve-twenty hours.=/\=


Changing her mind about her destination, Asovil heads for sick bay. Having a short distance to go, the young CSO encounters Ensign Maize returning from the direction of the medical facilities. The smaller woman looks up at her superior officer and gives her a salute, receiving one in return.


"PO Rogers is stable and undergoing treatment. They put him under so he wouldn't have to feel the pain once the shock wore off," Dalia reports grimly, the look in her eyes is reminiscent of a soldier who had just returned from the battlefield.


"How extensive are the injuries?"


"He must have been in shock because those burns were deep," the ensign shakes her head, her blonde ponytail rolling about on the back of her head. "I've never seen anything like it. What chemicals was he messing with?"


"2-mercaptoethanol, Sodium Azide, and Tetrahydrofuran," the Andorian informs her. "Do you know what he could have possibly been working on? And wasn't today his day-off?"


"I don't," Dalia sucks in air through her pursed lips as she mentally reviews the petty officer's work files. "I can't think of any assignment that involves a combination of those chemicals. That would have certainly raised some red flags for me."


"First-year chemistry students know not to be reckless with any of those substances," Asovil confirms. "The combination of the three created quite the deadly environment within the lab. I have asked Engineering to make sure it is cleaned, but they could likely use your assistance with identifying which substances need to remain untouched. I would stay, but I'm not yet familiar enough with the contents of the lab to be of any help."


"I understand," Dalia admits. "I'll head right over there."


"Thank you," Asovil remarks and the ensign salutes one more time before gliding down the hall, a willowy wisp of a pale woman owning the corridor.


Now, with nothing left to do since PO Rogers is now unconscious and wouldn't even be aware of her presence, the beautiful Andorian woman considers returning to her office but is immediately clocked by her subconscious. Tochi! she recalls. "Computer, time?"


=/\=The time is now twelve-hundred-thirty-seven hours.=/\=


Swearing is unbecoming an officer, an Andorian Imperial Guard, and an Andorian lady. "Damn!" Asovil remarks before rushing down the hall.


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 5 - Observation Lounge "The Airie" - 12:46



Arriving at the Airie, she steps through a little out of breath and full of apologies. Peering about the length of the brightly lit room, the Andorian woman slows her walk to a stop. Tochi is nowhere to be found. Tapping her badge, she calls to him, "Tochi?"


=/\=Hello, Lieutenant,=/\= his soft reply is delayed by only a couple of seconds, =/\=are we late for lunch?=/\=


"Marginally," she replies, relieved that she isn't the tardy one. Moving towards the same table they had sat at the night before, the young officer realizes that the hostess isn't present and that the room has only a couple of others present. "No charm, no growl. I'll simply seat myself and await your arrival."


(OOC: Tochi's response,)


Turning in her chair so that her back is to the door, Asovil affects a calm and relaxed exterior pose as she looks out at the passing stars while inside she feels the press of more butterflies threatening to explode from her chest.

Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 5 - Holosuite 2 - 12:46

His fingers played gently over the last notes of the ancient song, and, as those notes faded away on the air in the non-existent venue, he let his eyes drift open and his trepidation fade with those waning chords. As the invisible crowd pattered the air with its applause, Tochi drew in a long, deep breath that, combined with the emotion of the song he'd just played, stilled and centered his spirit, and he smiled into the candle-lit air as the applause faded like the end of a rainfall on the pavement,

=/\=Tochi?=/\= he heard his name called from the fringes of the penumbra, and the soothed smile that played on his lips brightened and warmed when he recognized the voice that called it as Asovil's.

"Hello, Lieutenant," he sighs softly in response to her hail, "are we late for lunch?"

=/\=Marginally,=/\= she replies, =/\=No charm, no growl. I'll simply seat myself and await your arrival.=/\=

The grin that tugs at the corners of his mouth in response to her twisting of ‘no harm, no foul' would certainly have been interpreted as a mix of amusement and almost boyish infatuation had there been anyone else there to see it. "Apologies, Asovil," he offers from behind that grin, rising from the bench and striding toward the exit, "we've had a busy morning and have lost track of time, apparently. I'll be with you shortly."

((OOC: Any response, jingling of bells, perhaps? ))

Deck 5 - Observation Lounge "The Aerie" - 1249

The Aerie is relatively empty when the doors whisk open to admit Lt Zai, with only a handful of crew members scattered about the place. Even if the lounge had been at capacity, though, Tochi's eyes would still have, unerringly, found their way to the beautiful Andorian gazing out at the stars from where she sat by the window. For an instant, he finds himself wanting to do nothing more than simply look at her; his footsteps and even, it seems, the beating of his heart are forestalled in that moment. There is an ethereal, almost dreamy, quality to the way the passing stars are reflected in the midnight-hue of her eyes and in the way the room's lighting plays on the silver-white of her hair and pale blue of her skin. He can't help but savor this poetically perfect vision of Asovil Sh'iraolnas and, when his heart and feet find their momentum, again, he has committed it to memory. He is content, too, to continue silently basking in the sight of her as he approaches.

The Trill rests one cool hand briefly on her shoulder as he reaches the table. "Good afternoon, Asovil," he smiles, his fingers regretfully abandoning the contact as he skirts the table and takes the seat opposite her, "My apologies, again, for being late. We've not kept you waiting long, I hope."



((Tag, Brom.))

Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 4 - Sickbay - 1223 ~ 1405

Gray haze and numbness fill PO Roger's senses. Occasionally, he's able to cut through the fog enough to align his senses and press forward. He's stumbling, but doesn't quite recall why. Disoriented, he's fortunate to have found his way to Sickbay at all. Shuffling through the door, he squints his closely set eyes together and attempts to ascertain who is present.

Petty Officer 3rd Class, Craig Rogers is an absolute mess from head to toes. His usually unkept blond hair is static-charged, mussed together with what looks like drying blood, and standing up on end in certain places. Unusually square in the face and through his body, his face appears puffy, especially around his squinting pale blue eyes where his ruddy, aggravated flesh has puffed up to unusual size practically rendering him blind. His large nose is splotched along the bridge and inflamed around the nostrils and tip. Snot flows freely down over his lips and chin as well as being smeared across his irritated face. He's dressed in a pair of dark blue slacks and a white v-neck shirt with his communicator badge attached to his waist at the left and a pair of simple black leather boots. Down his thick, right forearm the skin has been melted away, as well as most of the muscle tissue, exposing the radius and ulna in places between sickly yellow puss pools and still bubbling flesh. Black threads from his pants cling to the gaping wound on the right side of his hip, groin, and approximately half-way down his right thigh. Here, too, the anterior superior illiac spine is exposed through the grotesque hole in his hip and the exposed portions of his groin and thigh are currently burning while the chemicals hungrily feed.

"I need help," he attempts to say, but his tongue is swollen and what comes out sounds more like, "Ahneeeep."

Chief Cook had been standing near one of the stations talking to Crewman Reynolds, who had taken it upon herself to come in today and work on some equipment that she thought needed further alignment, when PO Rogers staggered in and called out weakly. Turning Dana took in the sight of the man and as her eyes went wide she rushed to his side.

"What the hell?" Dana said as she grabbed the man along his left side, seeing the right was severely damaged, and quickly dragged him towards the shower stall that was used for emergencies, and when people confined to sickbay needed a quick rinse.

"Reynolds," she cried out as she slapped on the controls for the shower and pushed PO Rogers into the shower and stepped in with him to hold him up, "It looks like some sort of chemical burns, get something to cut off the rest of his clothing."

Crewman Reynolds had frozen a moment when she saw the extent of the damage, but when Chief Cook yelled instructions, it snapped her out of it and jumped to one of the counters and pulled open a drawer and drew out some large shears. Handing them to the Chief, she turned and grabbed some gloves and put them on ready to assist if needed. Chief Cook took the shears from Reynolds and began to cut away the clothing as best she could while she held up the man keeping him, and especially his right side, under the heavy stream of water. Once the clothing, or most of it, was cut away, she dropped the shears and then let the water soak his skin for another minute before she dragged him out and to the nearest bed.

"Get a sedative," Dana yelled as she laid him back on the table, "take it easy PO Rogers. We're going to take care of you."

She didn't ask what had happened, she doubted he could answer or she would understand if he did. She could determine the damage and ascertain the treatment once she got him under and stable. He had to be in a tremendous amount of pain from the damage to his inner tissue. Crewman Reynolds ran over with a hypospray and handed it to her; Dana quickly pressed it to his neck and PO Rogers drifted into blissful unconsciousness immediately.

Dana sighed for a moment and then checked herself for any damage; she saw only a few areas where some of the chemicals had scorched her uniform but it hadn't gotten through and the water that was soaking her had neutralized it enough so that it wasn't getting through to her skin. That done, she picked up a tricorder and began to examine PO Roger's injuries. She frowned when she was the readings coming across her screen; analyzing the chemical it found that it was several chemicals, NaN3 (Sodium Azide), C4H8O (Tetrahydrofuran) and HSCH2-CH2-OH (2-Mercaptoethanol).

"Now why on earth would you be messing with these," she said to the unconscious PO Rogers, "especially all together?"

It didn't make sense, but she was more interested in the damage it could do to her patient. These were all very dangerous chemicals in their own right, 2-Mercaptothanol could attack the heart and liver, while the Sodium Azide could attack the brain. Not good stuff to be playing around with at all.

"Crewman," Dana said without turning around, "In the medicine storeroom there is a container marked "P17-M208". Find it and bring it here along with some towels and a lot of gauze. We have to start work on him to stop any further damage to his tissues"

As Reynolds went to do as instructed, Dana put on some chemical resistant gloves and grabbed a fresh pair of shears and began to careful remove the remaining parts of clothing that were stuck to his body.

Lt. Sh'iraolnas' orders and description of what had happened to the odd Rogers is still bouncing inside her head as the ensign achieves Sickbay. Entering at a jog more than a stride, Dalia casts about for the senior ranking medical staff and settles immediately on Cookie where she and Reynolds worked feverishly upon the ghastly chemist.

Hand over her mouth, Ensign Maize steps to the side of the door and awaits the time when the two blue coded personnel slowed their work to maintenance before indicating her presence.

"Dana?" Dalia calls softly to attract the other blond woman's attention. "Is he going to be all right?"

Chief Cook used one of the unused towels to wipe the sweat that had accumulated on her brow as she turned to face the newcomer.

"I believe so Ensign," Dana said, as she removed the gloves and walked over to drop them into a disposal chute, "he's stable and resting for now. I had to sedate him immediately. Frankly I don't want to think of the pain he was in on the way here."

Crewman Reynolds was gently covering PO Rogers as if she thought the thin sheet might harm him further.

"What in the hell happened to him?" Dana asked Dalia, "he had three distinct chemicals on him. All dangerous by themselves, but none of them alone should have caused this level of damage. Yes they are all corrosive, but usually only causing minor burns, not something of this level. I don't know why he would combine such things, and how they would interact so violently with his flesh."

"I wish I knew," Ensign Maize responds with chagrin. "Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas told me that he'd received chemical burns and to head to Sickbay."

"Well," Dana sighed, "we've stopped the chemicals from dissolving his flesh. Had to use a compound of Calcium and Magnesium salts, designed to counteract Acids, along with an emollient that contains an antibiotic to prevent infection. We'll run some tests, and once we're sure of the extent of damage, we can begin tissue regeneration. I'll keep him under for now; his nerves are exposed and he would be in excruciating pain, if he were awake. He'll be here a few days I fear."

"That makes sense," Dalia shakes her head. "The poor fool. Will you please keep me informed?"

"Yes Ensign," Dana nodded to her, "please let your Lt. Sh'iraolnas know that we will need a report on the incident, for the record and to make sure that we didn't miss anything. This was no normal accident; we need to know what happened so we can make sure it doesn't happen again."

That done, she turned back to her patient; picking up a medical tricorder, she began to scan his injuries as Crewman Reynolds stood by to assist if need be.

"Certainly," Dalia acknowledges. She stares at the seriously wounded man for a bit longer before shaking her head and pivoting to exit the Sickbay.

Almost an hour later, Dana readjusted the blanket atop PO Rogers; having done all she could for now for the poor man. She sighed and looked around the sickbay as she dropped into her desk chair; it had been a hell of an afternoon and it was just getting started. Crewman Reynolds had left after they had stabilized Rogers; Dana was glad that Reynolds had been there to assist, as it had made things go a little smoother. She reassessed her earlier thoughts on Reynolds; her record had painted her as a trouble maker and one who thought she was better than she actually was capable. But Dana had found her to be quiet useful and very competent at the least. Later, she would make sure to place a note in Reynolds's file regarding her efforts on behalf of PO Rogers.

With her patent stable and resting; Chief Cook turn to her computer and began to enter the details into the medical record by hand. Dana was an old hand and preferred manually typing in her log entries rather than talking them to the Computer; she thought it silly to talk to the computer for such simple things. She preferred to see the words before her as she typed them; it helped her to visualize her statements.


USS Peregrine; Medical Log - Stardate 2365.02.09

Re: Medical entry regarding Petty Officer 3rd Class Craig Rogers injuries sustained.

PO Rogers reported to Sickbay at approximately 1225 hours with severe chemical burn injuries sustained while working in the Science Department's Chemistry Lab. Patient sustained severe injuries to his right forearm, exposing muscle tissue down to the radius and ulna bones. Severe burns to his right side from the hip down to his right thigh and groin area. The anterior superior illiac spine was exposed through the hip with portions of his groin and thigh being exposed as well.

All injuries are consistent with high grade corrosive exposure of the most severe nature. Tricorder analysis of the wounds show traces of Sodium Azide, Tetrahydrofuran and 2-Mercaptoethanol; these chemicals are known corrosive materials, though none of them should cause this level of damage on their own. Further investigation is warranted to determine the cause of such severe exposure to the chemical mixture, and if they pose any further threat to the patient, or the ship.

Patient was sedated immediately due to exposed nerves causing severe pain and discomfort. Patient injuries are stabilized; topical and injected antibiotics were administered to stop the spread of damage and prevent infection. Patient is stable, and being kept unconscious to prevent discomfort from injuries. Full musculature and dermal regeneration will be performed once any signs of infection have been ruled out. Scans of the Liver, Heart, and Brain show no apparent signs of damage; this was done as exposure to the chemicals involved are known to cause potential harm to those specific organs. Estimated the patient treatment will take ~48 hrs or more for full regeneration and observation to determine fitness and if further treatment is needed. Daily updates to the Medical log on the patient's condition will be conducted.

Chief Petty Officer Dana Cook

She reread the entry, frowned at a couple things; writing was never her strong suit. She shook her head and decided against any further entries or changes at this time; there wasn't much more to say. Once she was satisfied with the entry, she submitted it and sent copies to the Captain, XO, Chief Medical Officer, and the patient's Department head, Lt. Sh'iraolnas.

She had just sent off the report when the door to Sickbay opened and admitted Security Crewman Albert Smith who was holding his right forearm gingerly across his body; she sighed and rose to her feet.

"What did you do now, Crewman?"

(OOC: this emergency brought to you with the assistance of Brom. Thank you sir! )

(Edit: to add XO to medical report distribution list. Meant to do that but didn't put it in there.)

Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 5 - Observation Lounge "The Aerie" - 12:49



Three minutes isn't a long time in most cases. In theory, time is but a dimension through which all things are manipulated and Asovil finds herself in conflict as to whether she would extend the plane or shorten it. On one hand, the pending arrival of the ship's charming XO couldn't happen fast enough. Then again, the other hand begged for more time to ponder the events on board the Peregrine since her arrival.


Chief Crane's behavior and pending Captain's Mast, the Captain's irritated nature at having his command staff dismantled, and now PO Rogers serious accident. Having barely received the report on Roger's condition, the Andorian department head was now more concerned with what he was up to that had resulted in such catastrophe. Those chemicals have no practical use together, no reason to mix them for any of the assignments she can recall, and furthermore, Rogers' record showed him proficient enough with his duties that this shouldn't have happened. Knowing that this incident means she will be involved in further investigations, the lieutenant junior grade takes a deep breath and slowly releases it all the while eyeing the streaking lines of the space beyond without even so much as her normal curiosity.


Starting at the light tough on her shoulder, Asovil turns abruptly in her seat and looks up at Tochi's smiling face as he continues past her to take a seat.


"Good afternoon, Asovil," he smiles, his fingers regretfully abandoning the contact as he skirts the table and takes the seat opposite her, "My apologies, again, for being late. We've not kept you waiting long, I hope."


"That would depend on which dimension we're theorizing within," the scientist responds coyly as she returns his smile. "In this one, no. Not long at all.


"How has your morning been?"

Stardate 2365.02.09
USS Peregrine; Deck 5 - Observation Lounge "The Aerie" - 12:50

"Good afternoon, Asovil," he smiles, his fingers regretfully abandoning the contact as he skirts the table and takes the seat opposite her, "My apologies, again, for being late. We've not kept you waiting long, I hope."


"That would depend on which dimension we're theorizing within," the scientist responds coyly as she returns his smile. "In this one, no. Not long at all.


"How has your morning been?"

A sigh whispers past his lips but fails to erase the smile, there. "A bit more hectic than we had expected it to be," Tochi admits, folding his hands together on the table between them as his eyes fixed to hers. "After the reception, last night, we had some concerns, shall we say, about Ambassador Threel," he begins by way of explanation, "and, so, I woke early in order to relay those concerns to the Coronado. We had planned on a couple of more hours of sleep, following that, but, as it happens, we are to serve as Chief Crane's advocate at the Captain's Mast, this afternoon. As such, we've spent much of the morning conferring with Mister Crane, and, otherwise, preparing for the Mast."

"Funny how such a simple thing can consume so much time," the Trill's grin quirks toward irony for a moment and, as his fingers unlace and he leans back in his seat, he shrugs faintly. "Our morning has been tedious and mind-numbing," he chuckles, "and we still have a shift in the Big Chair to look forward to." He pauses for an instant, his gaze dancing over her face, then smiles warmly and says; "I imagine that this time with you, Lt Sh'iraolnas, will be the bright spot in an otherwise dreary day."

"How about you," he asks, then, leaning back in to rest his elbows on the table and clasp his hands together beneath his chin, "nothing as frenetic as yesterday, I hope?"


((Tag oncemoegin! ))

Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 5 - Observation Lounge "The Aerie" - 12:50



A sigh whispers past Tochi's lips but fails to erase the smile there. "A bit more hectic than we had expected it to be," Tochi admits, folding his hands together on the table between them as his eyes fixed to hers. "After the reception, last night, we had some concerns, shall we say, about Ambassador Threel," he begins by way of explanation, "and, so, I woke early in order to relay those concerns to the Coronado. We had planned on a couple of more hours of sleep, following that, but, as it happens, we are to serve as Chief Crane's advocate at the Captain's Mast, this afternoon. As such, we've spent much of the morning conferring with Mister Crane, and, otherwise, preparing for the Mast."


"Funny how such a simple thing can consume so much time," the Trill's grin quirks toward irony for a moment and, as his fingers unlace and he leans back in his seat, he shrugs faintly. "Our morning has been tedious and mind-numbing," he chuckles, "and we still have a shift in the Big Chair to look forward to." He pauses for an instant, his gaze dancing over her face, then smiles warmly and says; "I imagine that this time with you, Lt Sh'iraolnas, will be the bright spot in an otherwise dreary day."


"How about you," he asks, then, leaning back in to rest his elbows on the table and clasp his hands together beneath his chin, "nothing as frenetic as yesterday, I hope?"


"I am sorry for your trouble, Tochi, but do not be so quick to judge," Asovil remarks while raising her thin white brows and tilting her head to the left ever so slightly. "I contributed to your lack of sleep, I'm afraid. After all, Chief Crane's situation—though of her own making—was brought to Captain Drake's attention by none other than myself.


"As for my morning, well, I have yet to slide onto a starship on my belly, so I do have that going for me. I am, however, somewhat dismayed." Leaning forward, she gently brushes some dust from the tabletop. "How in the world did Lieutenant Tesenblen ever accomplish anything with a department filled with disorder and incompetence?"


Forestalling any potential protest from the XO, the Andorian woman looks intently into his eyes and holds up the same hand that had just relieved the table of the burden of dust. "PO Rogers—the chemist—is currently a resident of Sickbay for an unspecified duration having somehow, and for some unknown reason, combined three deadly-enough chemicals of their own accord to create a rather murderous cloud. For what purpose, I have no concept, yet. But now, not only is he quite severely injured, but I'm down another crew member leaving my department short two individuals."


Shaking her head in a slow, deliberate fashion, the young officer leans back until the rest catches her. Chewing on the inside of her bottom lip, she looks off to Tochi's right, just past his shoulder and glumly says, "Not exactly the best impression for a new CSO. Were I not accustomed to constantly fighting an uphill battle, I might be feeling lower than a snake's jelly."


"I'm not complaining," she returns her attention to her lunch date and adopts a resigned expression accented by a slight smile. "I'm sure that without all of these events taking place, I'd be bored out of my mind and relegated to an afterthought as the head of a non-essential department aboard an escort vessel.


"What shall we have for lunch? Hmm?"

Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 5 - Observation Lounge "The Aerie" - 12:50


A sigh whispers past Tochi's lips but fails to erase the smile there. "A bit more hectic than we had expected it to be," Tochi admits, folding his hands together on the table between them as his eyes fixed to hers. "After the reception, last night, we had some concerns, shall we say, about Ambassador Threel," he begins by way of explanation, "and, so, I woke early in order to relay those concerns to the Coronado. We had planned on a couple of more hours of sleep, following that, but, as it happens, we are to serve as Chief Crane's advocate at the Captain's Mast, this afternoon. As such, we've spent much of the morning conferring with Mister Crane, and, otherwise, preparing for the Mast."


"Funny how such a simple thing can consume so much time," the Trill's grin quirks toward irony for a moment and, as his fingers unlace and he leans back in his seat, he shrugs faintly. "Our morning has been tedious and mind-numbing," he chuckles, "and we still have a shift in the Big Chair to look forward to." He pauses for an instant, his gaze dancing over her face, then smiles warmly and says; "I imagine that this time with you, Lt Sh'iraolnas, will be the bright spot in an otherwise dreary day."


"How about you," he asks, then, leaning back in to rest his elbows on the table and clasp his hands together beneath his chin, "nothing as frenetic as yesterday, I hope?"


"I am sorry for your trouble, Tochi, but do not be so quick to judge," Asovil remarks while raising her thin white brows and tilting her head to the left ever so slightly. "I contributed to your lack of sleep, I'm afraid. After all, Chief Crane's situation—though of her own making—was brought to Captain Drake's attention by none other than myself."

Tochi dismisses her apology with a magnanimous shrug and a smile, a gesture that seems to say ‘it is what it is.' In reporting CPO Crane, Asovil had only been doing her job and, he couldn't fault her for that in any fashion, Besides, he muses, careful not to let the thought pass his lips, if you had anything at all to do with my lack of sleep, it wasn't due to that.

"As for my morning, well, I have yet to slide onto a starship on my belly, so I do have that going for me," she continues, calling a sheepish expression to his features, "I am, however, somewhat dismayed." Leaning forward, she gently brushes some dust from the tabletop. "How in the world did Lieutenant Tesenblen ever accomplish anything with a department filled with disorder and incompetence?"

The query prompts a shift in the XO's expression from sheepish to perplexed. Peregrine's Science Department had yet to play any great role in the ship's missions, to date, and, granted, some of those assigned there were, perhaps, odd, but Zai had never thought any of them to be disorderly or incompetent. Beginning to lean back in his chair, again, Tochi opens his mouth to say something but, as the Andorian woman looks intently into his eyes and holds up a slender hand, pre-empting any interjection for the moment.

"PO Rogers—the chemist—is currently a resident of Sickbay for an unspecified duration having somehow, and for some unknown reason, combined three deadly-enough chemicals of their own accord to create a rather murderous cloud. For what purpose, I have no concept, yet. But now, not only is he quite severely injured, but I'm down another crew member leaving my department short two individuals."

Shaking her head in a slow, deliberate fashion, the young officer leans back until the rest catches her. Chewing on the inside of her bottom lip, she looks off to Tochi's right, just past his shoulder and glumly says, "Not exactly the best impression for a new CSO. Were I not accustomed to constantly fighting an uphill battle, I might be feeling lower than a snake's jelly."


"I'm not complaining," she returns her attention to her lunch date and adopts a resigned expression accented by a slight smile. "I'm sure that without all of these events taking place, I'd be bored out of my mind and relegated to an afterthought as the head of a non-essential department aboard an escort vessel.


Concern mingles with the puzzlement that surely must have etched itself into his visage as the CSO expanded on her lamentations as to the state in which she had found her department. Tesenblen's illegal procurement of restricted specimens, Crane's misguided but still blatant circumvention of protocol, and, now, Petty Officer Rogers (whom Tochi, quite honestly, had always found to be more than a little offputting) not only severely injured himself but, from the sounds of it, could have potentially put the mission and the ship itself a very serious risk. All of this had transpired right underneath his nose, on his watch, and he had been oblivious to it.

She has every reason to complain, Tochi decides, his steepled fingers pressed to his lips as he studies the lovely Andorian scientist and contemplates all of what she's just said, and not just to us, to Starfleet Command, itself, if she sees fit. Taken individually or as a whole, as she tells it, it points to disorder and incompetence within the department and, worse, shipwide all the way up to Command.

Did we become that apathetic on that snooze of a patrol tour?

"What shall we have for lunch? Hmm?"

"Lunch?" The Trill blinks at the question, realizing that he's become distracted by his ponderings. His hand falls away from where it had been thoughtfully rubbing at his whisker-stubbled chin and, as his gaze focuses on Asovil again, the faint scowl that had worked its way onto his lips morphed into a somewhat contrite smile. His mind hadn't truly been concerned with what they would eat even when he'd sent her the invitation and, now, food certainly wasn't at the forefront of his thoughts. "Right," he blinks again, chuckling softly as his smile warms a bit more, "lunch. We had almost forgotten. I, for one, could use a good cup of katheka, to start."

Tochi's gaze drifts away from the Andorian woman long enough to catch the attention of Crewman Suder and politely wave him over. Suder nods in reply and, as he starts to make his way over, the Trill's attentions return fully to Asovil. "We are truly sorry," he offers sincerely, "for both the turmoil in which you found your department and for our failure in having not seen and addressed it beforehand. Moreso, we're sorry that you feel as if you, or your department, are at all non-essential.

You have my word, Asovil," he smiles as the Betazoid Ops crewman draws up at a respectful distance from the table, "I'll do all I can to correct every one of those issues for you."

Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 5 - Observation Lounge "The Aerie" - 12:53



A sigh whispers past Tochi's lips but fails to erase the smile there. "A bit more hectic than we had expected it to be," Tochi admits, folding his hands together on the table between them as his eyes fixed to hers. "After the reception, last night, we had some concerns, shall we say, about Ambassador Threel," he begins by way of explanation, "and, so, I woke early in order to relay those concerns to the Coronado. We had planned on a couple of more hours of sleep, following that, but, as it happens, we are to serve as Chief Crane's advocate at the Captain's Mast, this afternoon. As such, we've spent much of the morning conferring with Mister Crane, and, otherwise, preparing for the Mast."


"Funny how such a simple thing can consume so much time," the Trill's grin quirks toward irony for a moment and, as his fingers unlace and he leans back in his seat, he shrugs faintly. "Our morning has been tedious and mind-numbing," he chuckles, "and we still have a shift in the Big Chair to look forward to." He pauses for an instant, his gaze dancing over her face, then smiles warmly and says; "I imagine that this time with you, Lt Sh'iraolnas, will be the bright spot in an otherwise dreary day."


"How about you," he asks, then, leaning back in to rest his elbows on the table and clasp his hands together beneath his chin, "nothing as frenetic as yesterday, I hope?"


"I am sorry for your trouble, Tochi, but do not be so quick to judge," Asovil remarks while raising her thin white brows and tilting her head to the left ever so slightly. "I contributed to your lack of sleep, I'm afraid. After all, Chief Crane's situation—though of her own making—was brought to Captain Drake's attention by none other than myself.


"As for my morning, well, I have yet to slide onto a starship on my belly, so I do have that going for me. I am, however, somewhat dismayed." Leaning forward, she gently brushes some dust from the tabletop. "How in the world did Lieutenant Tesenblen ever accomplish anything with a department filled with disorder and incompetence?"


Forestalling any potential protest from the XO, the Andorian woman looks intently into his eyes and holds up the same hand that had just relieved the table of the burden of dust. "PO Rogers—the chemist—is currently a resident of Sickbay for an unspecified duration having somehow, and for some unknown reason, combined three deadly-enough chemicals of their own accord to create a rather murderous cloud. For what purpose, I have no concept, yet. But now, not only is he quite severely injured, but I'm down another crew member leaving my department short two individuals."


Shaking her head in a slow, deliberate fashion, the young officer leans back until the rest catches her. Chewing on the inside of her bottom lip, she looks off to Tochi's right, just past his shoulder and glumly says, "Not exactly the best impression for a new CSO. Were I not accustomed to constantly fighting an uphill battle, I might be feeling lower than a snake's jelly."


"I'm not complaining," she returns her attention to her lunch date and adopts a resigned expression accented by a slight smile. "I'm sure that without all of these events taking place, I'd be bored out of my mind and relegated to an afterthought as the head of a non-essential department aboard an escort vessel.


Concern mingles with the puzzlement that surely must have etched itself into his visage as the CSO expanded on her lamentations as to the state in which she had found her department. Tesenblen's illegal procurement of restricted specimens, Crane's misguided but still blatant circumvention of protocol, and, now, Petty Officer Rogers (whom Tochi, quite honestly, had always found to be more than a little offputting) not only severely injured himself but, from the sounds of it, could have potentially put the mission and the ship itself a very serious risk. All of this had transpired right underneath his nose, on his watch, and he had been oblivious to it.


She has every reason to complain, Tochi decides, his steepled fingers pressed to his lips as he studies the lovely Andorian scientist and contemplates all of what she's just said, and not just to us, to Starfleet Command, itself, if she sees fit. Taken individually or as a whole, as she tells it, it points to disorder and incompetence within the department and, worse, shipwide all the way up to Command.


Did we become that apathetic on that snooze of a patrol tour?



"What shall we have for lunch? Hmm?"


"Lunch?" The Trill blinks at the question, realizing that he's become distracted by his ponderings. His hand falls away from where it had been thoughtfully rubbing at his whisker-stubbled chin and, as his gaze focuses on Asovil again, the faint scowl that had worked its way onto his lips morphed into a somewhat contrite smile. His mind hadn't truly been concerned with what they would eat even when he'd sent her the invitation and, now, food certainly wasn't at the forefront of his thoughts. "Right," he blinks again, chuckling softly as his smile warms a bit more, "lunch. We had almost forgotten. I, for one, could use a good cup of katheka, to start."


Tochi's gaze drifts away from the Andorian woman long enough to catch the attention of Crewman Suder and politely wave him over. Suder nods in reply and, as he starts to make his way over, the Trill's attentions return fully to Asovil. "We are truly sorry," he offers sincerely, "for both the turmoil in which you found your department and for our failure in having not seen and addressed it beforehand. Moreso, we're sorry that you feel as if you, or your department, are at all non-essential.


"You have my word, Asovil," he smiles as the Betazoid Ops crewman draws up at a respectful distance from the table, "I'll do all I can to correct every one of those issues for you."


"Don't you dare," the Andorian beauty leans forward and with a wide-eyed expression smiles a little to soften the intensity of her words. "I am not sharing this information with you so that you can fix anything, Tochi. This department is mine, for better or worse, I am married to it and I'll not be known as the one member of the senior officers who went whining to the XO on her second day of assignment.


"I shall straighten the department out, and those whom I've been assigned shall be right as the soft upwards rain on the Hiletklef Fields."


Pausing with the arrival of the Bajoran Ops crewman, she sets her royal blue gaze upon him. "Hello, you two," Sudar smiles and extends his greetings. "What can I get for you?"


"Two katheka at a neat seventy-one point one degrees celsius, please," she takes the lead. "And I'll have a small oudin with a side of fea arel."


Turning a smiling face to her lunch companion, she sinks back against the chair and holds out a hand, palm upward, to indicate it's his turn to order.