Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday)
USS Peregrine; Deck 2; Main Engineering, Jefferies tube

Haemis laid back against the bulkhead in the Jefferies tube, the soothing vibration of the ships engines touching his body. He scrolled through the list of items that still needed to be completed today which were mostly routine Diagnostics It was nice to be on a ship that wasn't falling apart. He would never tell anyone that about the Coronado despite how he felt about her Captain, the chief and he took pride in the work they did. That ship needed a constant touch.

He heard a beep from one of his other Padd's he had laying about him. He had pretty much decided that this was going to be his office. His special spot where he could work and be apart from the rest of the vessels hullabaloo. He had even brought a pillow with him this time which was being used to prop his head up on the bulkhead behind him. "Right." he said to himself. "Mail!" he keyed the mail open, it was from his father. Not exactly the person he wanted to hear from...

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TO: Lieutenant McTavish, Haemis Falkirk, Engineering Department
CO: Starfleet office of Personnel, Earth, San Francisco
FROM: McTavish, Aiden Alastair
Subject: (No Subject entered)

You can't keep your nose clean boy, I have to find out like this from the office of Starfleet Personnel! That you've been transferred off the Coronado and sent to mast? Your a bloody disgrace boy! Never has a member of this family been shamed in such a way. You cant even write to tell me yourself, where is your honor. Don't bother coming home. Don't write. I don't know you boy!

A

[end message]

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Haemis stared at the Padd, his heart dropped into his chest. "Damn!" he said. "I canna do right by you, well good on ya!" he said at the padd, his muscles flexed and the padd made a wrenching sound as it split in two. He tossed the pieces down the shaft and laid his head back against the back of the wall. "Damn!" he said bouncing a fist off the floor.

Haemis had not had a great relationship with his father, most of his family had taken jobs, important jobs said his father. Starfleet Security was where honor was found. When men served! He chose a different path because of his love of fixing things. He'd done it since he was a boy. He trained hard with his sisters and father but his love was engineering. His father couldn't understand it. But then with all the trouble he had in the Academy and now this with the Coronado, his father had just shunned him.

Haemis turned and crawled out of the Jefferies tube, it wasn't far back to Main Engineering. He stepped out of the maintenance room and exited the engine room without looking back. He headed towards the turbolift. After a brief stroll he stepped into the lift. "Bridge" he said. He leaned against the wall lost in his own thoughts and nearly missed getting off the lift at the bridge. He moved back towards the engineering station where he settled into the chair and began running the battery of diagnostics. What he needed right now was busy work.

Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42138.5)
USS Peregrine; Deck 5 - Observation Lounge; "The Aerie" - 1254
"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."

Grinning around mock surprise, Tochi raises his hands in surrender. "Alright," he chuckles, "we'll keep our nose out of it, then."


Pausing with the arrival of the Bajoran Ops crewman, Asovil sets her royal blue gaze upon him. "Hello, you two," Suder 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.

"We'll have the same, Tam," Tochi nods after a moment's contemplation, "with honar as opposed to fea arel, please."

"Very well, Lieutenants," Crewman Suder grins, flicking Tochi a shrewd wink as he backs away from the table, "I'll have that right out for you."

"Thank you, Crewman," Zai replies, his eyebrows lifting evocatively as he emphasizes Tam's rank.

The Betazoid flashes a grin,your spots are purple, Lieutenant, and then turns to go tend to the pair's orders.

Shaking his head, Tochi's attentions turn back to the woman across the table. "We get the feeling that, somewhere, someone has just won a bet," he snickers. Then, as he realizes that he's just spoken that thought aloud, offers a faintly mortified smile as the warmth in his cheeks bolsters the fact that his spots likely had, in fact, gone a bit purple. "Aaaaanyway," He chuckles, again, absently running the fingers of one hand through his hair before that hand comes to rest at the back of his neck (at precisely the spot his abashed glare might be burning a hole in Suder's).

His eyes find his way back to hers after a second, though, and fighting to restrain his blush, the Trill offers a smile. "As we were saying," he says as his hand falls away from his neck and clasps with the other on the tabletop before him, "We have no doubt that you'll manage to have your department answering to higher standards in no time. If there is anything I can do to assist, though, don't hesitate to ask, hmm?

That is, of course, unless doing so would quantify as ‘whining to the XO'," he adds with a wink.

Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 5 - Observation Lounge "The Aerie" - 12:55

"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."

Grinning around mock surprise, Tochi raises his hands in surrender. "Alright," he chuckles, "we'll keep our nose out of it, then."

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.

"We'll have the same, Tam," Tochi nods after a moment's contemplation, "with honar as opposed to fea arel, please."

"Very well, Lieutenants," Crewman Suder grins, flicking Tochi a shrewd wink as he backs away from the table, "I'll have that right out for you."

"Thank you, Crewman," Zai replies, his eyebrows lifting evocatively as he emphasizes Tam's rank.

The Betazoid flashes a grin,your spots are purple, Lieutenant, and then turns to go tend to the pair's orders.

Shaking his head, Tochi's attentions turn back to the woman across the table. "We get the feeling that, somewhere, someone has just won a bet," he snickers. Then, as he realizes that he's just spoken that thought aloud, offers a faintly mortified smile as the warmth in his cheeks bolsters the fact that his spots likely had, in fact, gone a bit purple. "Aaaaanyway," He chuckles, again, absently running the fingers of one hand through his hair before that hand comes to rest at the back of his neck (at precisely the spot his abashed glare might be burning a hole in Suder's).

His eyes find his way back to hers after a second, though, and fighting to restrain his blush, the Trill offers a smile. "As we were saying," he says as his hand falls away from his neck and clasps with the other on the tabletop before him, "We have no doubt that you'll manage to have your department answering to higher standards in no time. If there is anything I can do to assist, though, don't hesitate to ask, hmm?

That is, of course, unless doing so would quantify as ‘whining to the XO'," he adds with a wink.

"What bet?" Asovil's brow furrows in consternation. "What do you mean?"

Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 5 - Observation Lounge; "The Aerie" - 1255

"What bet?" Asovil's brow furrows in consternation. "What do you mean?"

Damn the lack of sleep, Tochi grimaces inwardly, How do we even begin to explain this?

Despite the inner angst, the Trill manages to outwardly affect a soothing aspect, even as he sighs and allows his green-gold eyes to dip, briefly, to where his thumbs are nervously fidgeting over his interlaced fingers. Willing the thumb-twiddling into submission, his gaze lifts to meet the intense sapphire of Asovil's. Offering a faint shrug that cants his head just slightly to the right, Tochi smiles and spreads his hands in uncertainty. "We doubt there is an actual wager," he smirks, prefacing his explanation, "though we can't say that we'd be surprised to find out otherwise.

As you're likely aware, Asovil, every ship and every crew has its share of scuttlebutt and speculation, yes?"

((OOC: Assuming some kind of nod or other affirmative response. If otherwise, let me know.))

"Well, the Peregrine is no different where that's concerned, Heh, Given that we're a small crew as the typically hum-drum nature of our usual patrol assignments, it may even be even worse. Too much time on peoples' hands and not enough to occupy their minds, we suppose," he chuckles, unable to keep all of his building embarrassment from coloring the sound of it.

"Anyway, for whatever reason, one of the more common topics in Peregrine's rumor mill seems to be my, uh, how shall we say it," his gaze diverts from hers, again, dropping to regard his own hands for a split second as his typically roguish smile melts into something more abashed, "my personal life.

It would seem," Tochi continues in the wake of a deeply drawn breath, his eyes lifting to once again frame the Andorian woman's face and his smile finding a middle ground between impish and uneasy, "that you may have been injected into that particular vein of gossip."

Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 5 - Observation Lounge "The Aerie" - 12:57

"What bet?" Asovil's brow furrows in consternation. "What do you mean?"


Damn the lack of sleep, Tochi grimaces inwardly, How do we even begin to explain this?

Despite the inner angst, the Trill manages to outwardly affect a soothing aspect, even as he sighs and allows his green-gold eyes to dip, briefly, to where his thumbs are nervously fidgeting over his interlaced fingers. Willing the thumb-twiddling into submission, his gaze lifts to meet the intense sapphire of Asovil's. Offering a faint shrug that cants his head just slightly to the right, Tochi smiles and spreads his hands in uncertainty. "We doubt there is an actual wager," he smirks, prefacing his explanation, "though we can't say that we'd be surprised to find out otherwise.


"As you're likely aware, Asovil, every ship and every crew has its share of scuttlebutt and speculation, yes?"


Light from the overheads glint in the deep recesses of her intense gaze and she delivers a slow nod, eyes narrowing slightly, antennae leaning forward.


"Well, the Peregrine is no different where that's concerned, Heh, Given that we're a small crew as the typically humdrum nature of our usual patrol assignments, it may even be even worse. Too much time on peoples' hands and not enough to occupy their minds, we suppose," he chuckles, unable to keep all of his building embarrassment from coloring the sound of it.


"Anyway, for whatever reason, one of the more common topics in Peregrine's rumor mill seems to be my, uh, how shall we say it," his gaze diverts from hers, again, dropping to regard his own hands for a split second as his typically roguish smile melts into something more abashed, "my personal life.


"It would seem," Tochi continues in the wake of a deeply drawn breath, his eyes lifting to once again frame the Andorian woman's face and his smile finding a middle ground between impish and uneasy, "that you may have been injected into that particular vein of gossip."


I'm part of this rumor mill, and it's concerning my relationship with Tochi? The Chief Science Officer retains her narrow-eyed intensity while chewing on the inside of her bottom lip and considering the news. Burgeoning relationship, there's a relationship to fuel the rumors? This does mean that Tochi—who the crew knows far better than I—has been demonstrating more than just a passing interest in me. Oh, Uzaveh! heart racing, the blue-skinned young woman maintains an outward visage of intense study. He appears genuinely embarrassed by this revelation. But, is it because he's had to reveal that he's known as a man of many attentions, or because he's had to inadvertently reveal a true interest in me in such a plain way? Undecided yet as to which of these considerations are the actual cause of her lunch companion's discomfort, Asovil slowly leans back into her chair and gently taps the tabletop with one finely manicured white fingernail. Pursing her full-lips, she draws a slow breath and offers a determined nod.


"I see," she finally acknowledges. "So, I am to understand that you've engaged in a number of relationships in order to earn such an interest from the crew?"

Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 5 - Observation Lounge "The Aerie" - 12:57

The narrowing of Asovil's eyes and the foreward tilt of her antennae is an almost palpable sensation to Tochi. Those subtle changes to her expression seem to bear an incredible weight which is determined to settle in his chest, stilling his heart and daring his lungs to expand. The pressure increases as she leans back in her seat and, tapping the tapletop with one finely manicured white fingernail, the intense sapphire shards of her gaze stab into him as she considers what the Trill has just revealed. To him, it seems like an eternity of being clenched in that vise though the Andorian woman's deliberations last only a moment.

Pursing her full-lips, she draws a slow breath and offers a determined nod.


"I see," she finally acknowledges. "So, I am to understand that you've engaged in a number of relationships in order to earn such an interest from the crew?"

Tochi offers a slow but assured shake of his head as the space between heartbeats ends with a forceful thud and his lungs are reminded to breathe. "Not even one," he smiles, his hazel eyes lit by the sincerity of his words, "Not in the way that rumors would have it, at any rate.

We do have relationships with certain members of the crew that go beyond simple professional association, of course, but all of them are platonic," he shrugs faintly, "Vaela, Ensign P'Tammah is a dear friend, for example, and has been linked to me in rumor on more than one occasion. We'll admit, too, that, outside of Lt Cmdr Thorson, who, unfortunately has left the Peregrine, and, perhaps, the Captain, we are closer to her than anyone else aboard. To us, though, Vaela is more like a niece, or even a granddaughter."

Leaning back in his chair, the XO chuckles and, with a thumb and forefinger, rubs thoughtfully at a spot of stubble just beneath his lower lip. "Perhaps it is our lack of a love life that makes them so eager to fabricate one," he offers with a wry grin.

Having noticed Suder hoisting a tray, Tochi's gaze skips away from Asovil for an instant to glance at the approaching Betazoid. As his eyes return to meet the CSO's, again, he sighs and offers an apologetic smile. "I am sorry if I've made you uncomfortable, Asovil," he says, "If it's any consolation, at all, I've rather embarrassed myself, as well."

"All right, Lieutenants," Tam interrupts, coming to a stop next to their table and beginning to offload their lunch orders, "Two small oudin - one with fea arel one with honar - and two steaming cups of katheka. Anything else I can get for you?"

"Unless the lady cares for anything else, Tam," Tochi offers with a tight grin and the raising of an eyebrow, "I think just some privacy. Thank you."

((OOC: Unless Asovil needs anything else,))

"Yessir," Tam nods, grinning in return but looking sufficiently cowed by Lt Zai's response, "I'll leave you to it, then." The Betazoid tucks the tray under an arm, turns, and strolls away without looking back.

Grateful for something to do with his hands, Tochi reaches for the cup of katheka as his attentions return to the blue-skinned beauty across the table. He indulges in a sip of the Andorian coffee and, once more, offers the woman a smile. "Again, Lieutenant, if I've made you uncomfortable, I do apologize, and I'll certainly understand if you prefer to limit our association to a strictly professional one." The Trill leans forward then and, resting his elbows on the table, fixes his lunch companion with a soft but serious look. "That having been said," he continues, his voice lowered a measure, "I truly would enjoy getting to know you better, and call you a friend, at least. Scuttlebutt be damned, hmmm?"

Stardate 2365.02.09
USS Peregrine, Captain's Mess - 1412

((OOC: I have put a few words into Chief Crane's mouth, assuming that she would answer direct questions. She is not my NPC, however, so if I assumed incorrectly, please let me know and we can edit.

Likewise, neither Berk nor Lasad have been super active of late, so I assumed that they would also answer direct questions. If either player has an issue with this we can edit.))

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Once Drake had presented the case as he understood it, it was Chief Crane's turn to give her version of events. The scientist was calm and measured as she presented her side. To her credit, she did not deny the facts, nor did she offer any excuses. What she did communicate, however, troubled Silas more than a little. Unless he misunderstood, Chief Crane's basic narrative was that she did not feel that command would hear her concerns, so she felt compelled to seek outside help. She was very sorry, she never meant any harm to come to anyone's career.

And yet, at this very moment, Silas knew that Lieutenant Tesenblen was sitting in a brig awaiting a formal court martial. There would likely be at least some sort of inquiry as to Drake's own involvement in the incident. And for what? Hurt feelings?

The Captain kept his face impassive as Chief Crane completed her narrative. Then, to no surprise, Tochi spoke up.

"As Chief Crane's advocate, Captain Drake," Zai said, meeting Silas' gaze, "we would like to offer a few words, if we may."

Drake nodded. "Please do, Lieutenant."

Not surprisingly, Tochi played the only real card in his hand - he pled for leniency for Chief Crane, citing an exemplary career and lack of previous disciplinary issues. For a moment, Silas allowed himself to be swayed ever so slightly; after all, he had no desire whatsoever to mete out punishment for the sake of punishment alone. Unfortunately, Zai continued to speak.

Silas found himself to be more than a little surprised as Tochi opined that perhaps all of the command staff shared in culpability for Chief Crane's actions, as he implied that there had been some failing to establish trust which contributed to the Chief's feelings that she had to take the matter outside of the Peregrine.

"Again, sir," Lieutenant Zai concluded, "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."

Appropriate consequences? Silas mused bitterly.

Once Zai had completed his speech, the Captain looked around the room. "Thank you for your input, Lieutenant Zai," Drake spoke. "Does anyone else have anything to contribute that the feel may be pertinent to the matter at hand?"

((OOC: assuming no one does))

Drake nodded. "Very well, then," he spoke.

The Captain leaned back in his chair just a bit.

"On the one hand," Silas opened, "I hear the plea for leniency, and it strikes a chord within me. The main reason I was so surprised to learn of these events was specifically because Chief Crane has always maintained a spotless service record. I have no desire to punish for the sake of punishment alone." Drake's voice began to take on a bit of an edge. "And yet..." he trailed off.

The Captain's tone grew cold. "This is the first major disciplinary action I have had to take part in since assuming command of the Peregrine. What I do here today will establish precedent for the duration of my command. I fear that if I slap the Chief on the wrist today, it will send the message to the crew that discipline and order are not the priority that they should be. I do not see exactly how I can reconcile the claim of 'no bad intentions' with the reality of a conscious, willing, major violation of the chain of command."

Drake fixed his gaze on Chief Crane. "Chief, you are a geneticist, correct? With my own background light in the sciences, I would be a fool to question you in areas of, say, sequencing of unknown RNA or DNA, or in various gene therapies, or in diagnosing various genetic disorders, or in analysis of the genetic makeup of exo life forms, or in any one of a myriad of other subjects that I likely have only the most basic notion of. Wouldn't you agree that I should, in fact, trust specialists like yourself in areas like these?"

Crane looked a little dubious to Silas. "Yes, sir," she offered quietly.

Drake nodded. "I see. Chief, from your service record, I see that you have been in Starfleet some fifteen years. However, it would appear that perhaps my copy of your service record is incomplete. Tell me, Chief... exactly how many years of experience do you have in command of a starship?"

Crane blinked. "Sir?" she asked.

Silas frowned. "It's a simple question, Chief. How many years of command experience do you have?"

The Chief glanced at Tochi before answering. "None, sir."

Silas nodded. "None. Ah. Perhaps you were in some other command staff position, then? First or second officer, perhaps?"

Chief Crane looked miserable as she answered. "No, sir. I have not served in such a capacity."

Drake was aware that his approach was overkill, but he had now committed to the course. "Very well," he spoke. "Perhaps my copy of your service record is only missing the command training that you have recently completed?"

The Chief shook her head slightly and cast her eyes down. "No, sir. I have not completed such training."

Silas frowned again. "Hmm. I wonder, then, Chief... what exactly was your basis for believing that you were better equipped to make a command decision for this ship than I or the existing command staff?"

Chief Crane looked even more miserable. "I don't know, sir. It wasn't like that, sir... I was just worried about the mission..."

Drake cut her off. "So you told us, Chief. You were concerned that the chance acquisition of this rare plant would have become known to the diplomats, one of which would then possibly plan to disable the security protocols we had in place so as to use the plant to murder the other, and thus sabotage the peace process."

The Captain fixed his gave on Lieutenant Berk. "Lieutenant Berk," he began, "assuming that you were to take us by surprise, how long would it take you to kill everyone in this room with the sidearm you are wearing?"

The Chief Tactical Officer looked more than a little surprised at the query. "Sir?" he asked.

Silas narrowed his eyes. "Just answer the question, Lieutenant. If you were to take us by surprise, how long would it take you to kill everyone in the room with your sidearm?"

Berk looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Er... well, sir. It honestly would only take a few seconds. I mean, we're practically at point blank range, so assuming I prioritized my threats, it wouldn't take long."

The Captain nodded. "Thank you, mister Berk. That estimate, of course, is for your sidearm; if I am not mistaken, we stock phaser rifles in our armory that are more powerful than your hand phaser, and we also stock heavier weapons and explosives - some of which could, in fact, punch a hole though the hull. Do we not?"

Berk nodded. "Yes, Captain. We have more powerful weapons like the ones you describe."

Drake seemed mollified. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

He turned his gaze to Lasad. "Lieutenant Lasad, how difficult would it be to use the replicator to create various engineering compounds that could be used to commit murder?"

The Ops chief seemed prepared for this line of questioning. "It would not be difficult, sir. There are many such compounds that could be easily synthesized. Some are toxic, others could be combined to create corrosive or explosive materials."

Drake remained impassive. "Is it not true, Lieutenant, that even the food replicators could be used in such a way? Are there not dishes in the computer catalog that some species consider to be edible - if not actual delicacies - that could, in fact, sicken or kill members of other species?"

Lasad nodded. "That is true, sir."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," the Captain stated before turning his gaze back to Chief Crane. "Chief, I could page medical if you like, but I am certain than Doctor Moore would confirm that many medicines - some easily obtainable - can be used to sicken or kill. And we haven't even scratched the surface of tricks like modifying a photon torpedo to explode within the ship or just after a launch; such an act could kill everyone aboard."

Drake tapped on his PADD, and the table projector display changed to written documentation. "If you would be so kind as to examine this data, you will note some relevant facts about the wolfsbane. Yes, it is possible for the plant to cause death, but the biggest risks associated with growing it are that it can cause nausea and sleepiness in humans exposed to the aromas of the plant, and that skin contact with the plant can cause sickness. Death typically requires ingestion of the plant, but it has an extremely unpleasant flavor which curtails this - most deaths associated with it arose via application though broken skin, as in a blade coated with the plant's material, or introduction via mucous membranes such as the female genitalia."

The Captain arched his eyebrows. "I pray that you will forgive me if I found these scenarios to be slightly less likely than obtaining a traditional weapon or poison. The containment fields were more for the comfort and day to day safety of the crew than for anything else. And there is, of course, the fact that Lieutenant Tesenblen had obtained seeds for the plant, seeds that would not, in fact, yield full sized plants until long after the current diplomatic mission was completed. As such, I determined that the wolfsbane provided a negligent risk to the mission, and that the security protocols proposed by Lieutenant Tesenblen were more than adequate to ensure the safety of the crew."

Silas went silent then, and allowed the silence to hang over the room for a few long moments. Eventually, he fixed his gaze on Crane once more.

"Chief," he spoke, "I want to be abundantly clear - my issue is not with the fact that you questioned my judgment. Had you gone through appropriate channels and raised your concerns to me, I would have shared the above data with you and hopefully set your fears at ease. If, for some reason, you had information that I was not privy to, I would have gladly considered it. I do not take the safety of this ship or her crew lightly. I am responsible for more than sixty souls, and I bear that responsibility with every fiber of my being."

The Captain's voice once again took on a hard edge. "However, much like I choose to trust you and the other specialists in the execution of your duties, so too do I expect for you to trust the chain of command. It is my job to make decisions like this one, and I do not believe that it is too much for me to expect you to understand that I will make those decisions in the best interests of this crew, this ship, and our missions. This is the entire foundation of the operation of a starship - we must trust one another to do our jobs... especially on a craft of this size, where there is little to no redundancy in any given department or position. If that trust is not there, we are doomed to fail before we even undertake a task."

Drake shook his head slightly. "Lieutenant Zai feels 'almost ashamed' in the lack of faith we as a command staff have instilled that would cause you to feel you needed to go outside the chain of command to resolve this matter." He paused for a moment. "I, on the other hand, am absolutely appalled that such a condition would exist to begin with."

His face a a cold, stony mask, the Captain continued. "I am unaware of any situation that I or Lieutenant Zai have so grossly mishandled over the past three months to justify such a lack of faith. In fact, I can think of no situation during that time - that being, of course, the time since I assumed command of this vessel - that crew safety has ever been put at risk from any decision. It would seem to me, then, that the failing is yours, Chief - not ours."

Drake sighed. "The chain of command is there for a reason. If it is not respected, people die and ships are lost. It may sound like an oversimplification, but that is the absolute truth. As a scientist, you may not have been involved in such situations, but that does not diminish their reality. Absent clear and irrefutable evidence that the Captain is making a choice to unnecessarily endanger the crew or the ship, you are honor bound to respect that chain of command. Even then, many an officer has found themselves on the wrong side of a court martial for choosing to stand against it; you must realize that while you are, in fact, a trained expert in your field, the fact is that Starfleet has expended not insignificant resources to train Command officers to likewise be fit for their posts. Let the record show that I have an open door policy - you may always bring your concerns to me - but even so, I expect for orders to be followed and the chain of command to be respected at all times. There are no exceptions."

The Captain cleared his throat. "Chief Crane, had we still been at port when I discovered your transgression, I would have beached you on the spot. Fortunately for your career, that was not the case. Be that as it may, here is my ruling."

Drake fixed Crane with his gaze. "Chief Petty Officer Lauren Crane, I do hereby find you guilty in the matter of this gross violation of the chain of command, and find no mitigating circumstances to justify your actions in any degree. Therefore, your punishment will be as follows.

First, you are hereby reduced in rate to Petty Officer, First Class. All privileges and benefits are likewise hereby reduced.

Second, you will be confined to the brig for three days, during which you will subside on bread and water rations only.

Third, upon completion of your time in the brig, you will return to duty, as the science department can ill afford being short an experienced staff member. However, for the next fourteen days, you will remain confined to quarters when not actively conducting your normal duties or such special projects as your department head may assign to you. During this fourteen day period, you will forego any 'off days' as may have been part of your normal schedule, instead making yourself available for duty shifts as needed by your department head to help cover for the strain of others being forced to work extra shifts to cover for your absence. You may visit the crew mess to obtain your own meals during this time period, but you will take said meals in your quarters.

During this fourteen day period, you will be assigned extra duties to be completed once your normal daily shifts are done.

Fourth, for the fourteen days following this period, you will be likewise assigned extra duties to be completed once your normal daily shifts are done.

Finally, a written reprimand will be placed into your service record."

The Captain took a breath. "I trust that this will be the end of the matter, and that chain of command will never again be an issue with you, Petty Officer Crane. Understand that if anything like this ever happens again, the punishment will not be so light - your career in Starfleet will be over. Understand, too, that I expect you to return to full and vigorous execution of your duties. If I find out otherwise... well, let's trust that I won't find out otherwise."

Drake looked around the room. "If no one else has anything to add?"

((OOC: assuming not))

Silas nodded. "Very well. Lieutenant Berk, please escort Petty Officer Crane to the brig. The rest of you are dismissed."

Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42138.7)
USS Peregrine; Captain's Mess - 1415
Lt Zai's "defense" of Lauren Crane hadn't been what one might have called lackluster. In fact, given the circumstances, the Trill had delivered the best, and, frankly, only argument available to him. Despite those best efforts, though, Tochi was under no delusions that they would spare the woman anything other than a continued career in Starfleet. Captain Drake's verdict, he knew, wouldn't be swayed by deftly wielded words or any attempts to garner sympathy. That much had been clear to him since he'd learned of Crane's transgression - he'd advised her to expect as much - and, if it hadn't been abundantly clear, then, it certainly crystalized as Drake set about dismantling the plea.

"Chief Petty Officer Lauren Crane," Silas says flatly, following his rebuttal to Crane's petition, "I do hereby find you guilty in the matter of this gross violation of the chain of command, and find no mitigating circumstances to justify your actions in any degree. Therefore, your punishment will be as follows.

First, you are hereby reduced in rate to Petty Officer, First Class. All privileges and benefits are likewise hereby reduced,"

Expected, Tochi muses, scarcely letting his nod reach the point to where it was noticeable.

",Second, you will be confined to the brig for three days, during which you will subside on bread and water rations only,"

One of the Trill's brows arches at that and his gaze snaps from Silas to Crane and back again. A bit harsh, Silas, he thinks. As severe and, frankly, antiquated a measure as it was, though, Lt Zai couldn't help but understand that it was being imposed by way of making a sharp point to his sentencing of the woman. Bread and water for three days, we think, is still preferable to what might have come from a full tribunal.

",Third, upon completion of your time in the brig, you will return to duty, as the science department can ill afford being short an experienced staff member. However, for the next fourteen days, you will remain confined to quarters when not actively conducting your normal duties or such special projects as your department head may assign to you. During this fourteen day period, you will forego any 'off days' as may have been part of your normal schedule, instead making yourself available for duty shifts as needed by your department head to help cover for the strain of others being forced to work extra shifts to cover for your absence. You may visit the crew mess to obtain your own meals during this time period, but you will take said meals in your quarters.

During this fourteen day period, you will be assigned extra duties to be completed once your normal daily shifts are done.

Fourth, for the fourteen days following this period, you will be likewise assigned extra duties to be completed once your normal daily shifts are done.

Finally, a written reprimand will be placed into your service record,"

A faintly rueful sigh whispers past the XO's lips as Drake comes to the end of his sentencing. Aside from the bread and water stipulation (and perhaps the three days in the brig) all of the punishments levied by the Captain had been expected, the reduction in grade, restriction to limits, additional duties, all of it, and, yet, expectations aside, the Trill couldn't keep himself from feeling marginally defeated by the pronunciation. Hopefully, he managed to keep too much of it from showing on his face, though. We've done all we could do, he reminds himself as Silas takes a breath, preparing to wrap the proceedings, Petty Officer Crane understands this, we hope.
",I trust that this will be the end of the matter," Silas says by way of conclusion, "and that chain of command will never again be an issue with you, Petty Officer Crane. Understand that if anything like this ever happens again, the punishment will not be so light - your career in Starfleet will be over. Understand, too, that I expect you to return to full and vigorous execution of your duties. If I find out otherwise... well, let's trust that I won't find out otherwise."

Drake looks around the room. "If no one else has anything to add?"

"No, sir," Zai offers as Drake's eyes meet his, "Thank you, Captain."

"Very well," Silas nods. "Lt Berk, please escort Petty Officer Crane to the brig. The rest of you are dismissed."

Tochi rises from his seat in concert with Lauren getting up from hers and offers a reassuring (if somewhat diffident) smile to the woman as Lt Berk moves to her side. The weak smile she replies with emotes both her disappointment and her understanding. "Thank you, sir," she murmurs, "for all that you've tried to do."

"Of course," he replies with a nod, "We're sorry that it couldn't have been more."

The woman forces a bit of hopefulness into her expression, then. "New beginnings and better memories, right, Lieutenant?" she smiles.

"Right," Tochi returns, "Remember that, Lauren."

Lauren nods in response as Lt Berk ushers her from the room. Once she's gone, Tochi gathers his PADD from the table and, following a glance and a faint grin in Asovil's direction, strides into the corridor, himself.

As the doors to the Captain's Mess whisk shut behind him, Lt Zai pauses and lifts a hand to, first, rub at his eyes and, then, as a weary sigh escapes him, that same hand runs through his hair and comes to rest at the base of his skull. What a day, he thinks, massaging a small knot of tension from his neck as he glances in one direction and then the other along the corridor, The best we can hope for, now, is an uneventful bridge-shift,

Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 5 - Observation Lounge "The Aerie" - 01:00

"I see," she finally acknowledges. "So, I am to understand that you've engaged in a number of relationships in order to earn such an interest from the crew?"


Tochi offers a slow but assured shake of his head as the space between heartbeats ends with a forceful thud and his lungs are reminded to breathe. "Not even one," he smiles, his hazel eyes lit by the sincerity of his words, "Not in the way that rumors would have it, at any rate.


"We do have relationships with certain members of the crew that go beyond simple professional association, of course, but all of them are platonic," he shrugs faintly, "Vaela, Ensign P'Tammah is a dear friend, for example, and has been linked to me in rumor on more than one occasion. We'll admit, too, that, outside of Lieutenant Commander Thorson, who, unfortunately has left the Peregrine, and, perhaps, the Captain, we are closer to her than anyone else aboard. To us, though, Vaela is more like a niece, or even a granddaughter."


Leaning back in his chair, the XO chuckles and, with a thumb and forefinger, rubs thoughtfully at a spot of stubble just beneath his lower lip. "Perhaps it is our lack of a love life that makes them so eager to fabricate one," he offers with a wry grin.


Noticing Suder hoisting a tray, Tochi's gaze skips away from Asovil for an instant to glance at the approaching Betazoid. As his eyes return to meet the CSO's, again, he sighs and offers an apologetic smile. "I am sorry if I've made you uncomfortable, Asovil," he says, "If it's any consolation, at all, I've rather embarrassed myself, as well."


"All right, Lieutenants," Tam interrupts, coming to a stop next to their table and beginning to offload their lunch orders, "Two small oudin—one with fea arel, one with honar—and two steaming cups of katheka. Anything else I can get for you?"


"Unless the lady cares for anything else, Tam," Tochi offers with a tight grin and the raising of an eyebrow, "I think just some privacy. Thank you."


"No," the white-haired woman replies flatly. "Nothing more, thank you."


"Yessir," Tam nods, grinning in return but looking sufficiently cowed by Lt Zai's response, "I'll leave you to it, then." The Betazoid tucks the tray under an arm, turns, and strolls away without looking back.


Grateful for something to do with his hands, Tochi reaches for the cup of katheka as his attentions return to the blue-skinned beauty across the table. He indulges in a sip of the Andorian coffee and, once more, offers the woman a smile. "Again, Lieutenant, if I've made you uncomfortable, I do apologize, and I'll certainly understand if you prefer to limit our association to a strictly professional one." The Trill leans forward then and, resting his elbows on the table, fixes his lunch companion with a soft but serious look. "That having been said," he continues, his voice lowered a measure, "I truly would enjoy getting to know you better, and call you a friend, at least. Scuttlebutt be damned, hmmm?"


"Uncomfortable?" Asovil directs her sapphire gaze to a spot just past Tochi's head and underneath the bulkhead. Am I, in fact, uncomfortable? No. I think not. Truthfully, she couldn't decide what had worried her more, the revelation that the XO is rumored to be an amorous man, or that within two days of boarding this vessel she has already been wrapped in the befuddling blanket of scandal. Worried is a bit of an overstatement. Tochi is correct. Scuttlebutt is a thing to be expected aboard any vessel no matter how much a command staff attempts to keep it regulated. And, the Andorian scientist is certainly no stranger to rumors being generated about her liaisons. Many a fellow Imperial Guardsman supposed that she was in bed with one officer or another merely because she does not fit into the mold of standard Andorian women. Her features are softer, her hair is silkier and easier to keep, and her behavior is less aggressive. She's even had to fight rumors that she is part Terran resulting in numerous duels defending her mother's honor. Finally lowering her softened gaze to meet her lunch companion's she let's him off the hook, "I'm not uncomfortable, Tochi. Nor would I allow such petty whispers to dissuade me from pursuing an interest."


Blushing a deeper blue, Asovil wets her lips with the tip of her pink tongue and smiles a small, gentle gesture of compassion. "I've been enjoying our time together, and I feel that the past hours aboard the Peregrine would have been far less bearable had you not been a part of them.


"I hereby grant you permission to continue to do whatever this is we've been doing, and you have already earned the right to call me a friend, so I urge you to continue to do so."


Lifting the katheka to her lips she sips at the bitter fluid and closes her long-lashed eyelids allowing the full immersion experience as the liquid crosses her tongue and slips down her throat. "From a purely scientific standpoint, Crewman Sudar is a Betazoid, no? And as a Betazoid, he's privileged to empathic readings of our emotions. That he would be presenting such indicators as to support the scuttlebutt to which you refer, would that not lean towards empirical data supporting the rumors?"


Boldly raising her thin eyebrows, Asovil purses her lips in an attempt to squelch the mischievous grin forming upon them and sets her mug down at the head of her plate. Dropping her eyes from the Trill's handsome face, she lifts her fork as though it were made of glass and struggles to keep the humor of her brazen joke from erupting while at the same time fighting the sudden urge to climb under the table with embarrassment.


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Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 1 - Captain's Mess - 14:12



Lt. Sh'iraolnas watches the proceedings with impartial interest. She knows that were she in Lt. Tesenblen's situation with an insubordinate chief, she would demand the immediate resolution provided by a Captain's Mast. None of the preceding events of this particular adjudication is alarming to her even though Captain Drake's initial offering for Chief Crane to receive a court martial was a little surprising.


"As Chief Crane's advocate, Captain Drake," Zai says, meeting Silas' gaze, "we would like to offer a few words, if we may."


Drake nods. "Please do, Lieutenant."


Not surprisingly, Tochi plays the only real card in his hand—he pleads for leniency for Chief Crane, citing an exemplary career and lack of previous disciplinary issues. The Andorian is impressed that Tochi managed to find anything to defend Lauren's behavior with, but holds no illusions as to the effectiveness of the defense. If she's read Silas Drake well enough, she knows him to be a calculated and straight-laced individual who will not stand for such behavior aboard his ship.


"Again, sir," Lieutenant 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."


Throughout the XO's appeal, Lauren's face remains controlled and levied. Asovil regards the mousy woman's demeanor much like she would the results from a test gone awry. The Chief makes no move as though the slightest shuffle of her feet, the barest shifting of her weight, or the sound of too deep a breath might unsettle the balance of calm in the chamber. Lauren's composure is admirable and the Andorian scientist silently admits that the Terran woman has been well coached.


Once Zai had completes his speech, the Captain looks around the room. "Thank you for your input, Lieutenant Zai," Drake speaks. "Does anyone else have anything to contribute that the feel may be pertinent to the matter at hand?"


Drake nods. "Very well, then," he speaks and leans back in his chair just a bit.


"On the one hand," Silas opens, "I hear the plea for leniency, and it strikes a chord within me. The main reason I was so surprised to learn of these events was specifically because Chief Crane has always maintained a spotless service record. I have no desire to punish for the sake of punishment alone." Drake's voice begins to take on a bit of an edge. "And yet..." he trails off.


The Captain's tone grows cold. "This is the first major disciplinary action I have had to take part in since assuming command of the Peregrine. What I do here today will establish precedent for the duration of my command. I fear that if I slap the Chief on the wrist today, it will send the message to the crew that discipline and order are not the priority that they should be. I do not see exactly how I can reconcile the claim of 'no bad intentions' with the reality of a conscious, willing, major violation of the chain of command."


Drake fixes his gaze on Chief Crane. "Chief, you are a geneticist, correct?" Lauren moves her head for the first time in a while and responds with a slight nod. "With my own background light in the sciences, I would be a fool to question you in areas of, say, sequencing of unknown RNA or DNA, or in various gene therapies, or in diagnosing various genetic disorders, or in analysis of the genetic makeup of exo life forms, or in any one of a myriad of other subjects that I likely have only the most basic notion of. Wouldn't you agree that I should, in fact, trust specialists like yourself in areas like these?"


Crane looks a little dubious and speaks directly to Silas, "Yes, sir," she offers quietly.


Drake nods, "I see. Chief, from your service record, I see that you have been in Starfleet some fifteen years. However, it would appear that perhaps my copy of your service record is incomplete. Tell me, Chief... exactly how many years of experience do you have in command of a starship?"


Crane blinks. "Sir?" she asks. Asovil's brow furrows the smallest amount as she struggles to find the path that the Captain has just set them on. If the Andorian is confused, she can only judge that Lauren (whose question emphasizes her confusion) is absolutely dumbfounded.


Silas frowns. "It's a simple question, Chief. How many years of command experience do you have?"


The Chief glances at Tochi before answering, "None, sir."


Asovil also looks to Tochi wondering if the Trill has some insight into this line of questioning, but the XO's face is impassive and perhaps even a little cautious.


Silas nods. "None. Ah. Perhaps you were in some other command staff position, then? First or second officer, perhaps?"


Chief Crane looks miserable as she answers, "No, sir. I have not served in such a capacity." It is at this point that the CSO realizes where her captain is going and settles back in her chair for further observance.


Drake is aware that his approach is overkill, but he has now committed to the course. "Very well," he says. "Perhaps my copy of your service record is only missing the command training that you have recently completed?"


The Chief shakes her head slightly and casts her eyes down to the surface of the table a feeling of utter despair rising up in her chest. "No, sir. I have not completed such training."


Silas frowns again. "Hmm. I wonder, then, Chief... what exactly was your basis for believing that you were better equipped to make a command decision for this ship than I or the existing command staff?"


She won't contest that question if she knows what's good for her, Asovil thinks.


Chief Crane looks even more miserable. "I don't know, sir. It wasn't like that, sir... I was just worried about the mission..."


Shhhhh, Lauren, the Andorian urges with all of the non-existent telepathy she can muster.


Drake cuts her off. "So you told us, Chief. You were concerned that the chance acquisition of this rare plant would have become known to the diplomats, one of which would then possibly plan to disable the security protocols we had in place so as to use the plant to murder the other, and thus sabotage the peace process."


The Captain fixes his gaze on Lieutenant Berk. "Lieutenant Berk," he begins, "assuming that you were to take us by surprise, how long would it take you to kill everyone in this room with the sidearm you are wearing?"


The Chief Tactical Officer looks more than a little surprised at the query. "Sir?" he asks.


Silas narrows his eyes. "Just answer the question, Lieutenant. If you were to take us by surprise, how long would it take you to kill everyone in the room with your sidearm?"


Berk looks decidedly uncomfortable, "Er... well, sir. It honestly would only take a few seconds. I mean, we're practically at point blank range, so assuming I prioritized my threats, it wouldn't take long."


The Captain nods. "Thank you, mister Berk. That estimate, of course, is for your sidearm; if I am not mistaken, we stock phaser rifles in our armory that are more powerful than your hand phaser, and we also stock heavier weapons and explosives—some of which could, in fact, punch a hole through the hull. Do we not?"


Berk acknowledges the captain's assessment with a silent nod, "Yes, Captain. We have more powerful weapons like the ones you describe."


Drake seems mollified, "Thank you, Lieutenant."


He turns his gaze to Lasad. "Lieutenant Lasad, how difficult would it be to use the replicator to create various engineering compounds that could be used to commit murder?"


The Ops chief seems prepared for this line of questioning. "It would not be difficult, sir. There are many such compounds that could be easily synthesized. Some are toxic, others could be combined to create corrosive or explosive materials."


Drake remains impassive. "Is it not true, Lieutenant, that even the food replicators could be used in such a way? Are there not dishes in the computer catalog that some species consider to be edible—if not actual delicacies—that could, in fact, sicken or kill members of other species?"


Lasad dips his head revealing more of the intricate braid work in his hair. "That is true, sir."


"Thank you, Lieutenant," the Captain states before turning his gaze back to Chief Crane. "Chief, I could page medical if you like, but I am certain than Doctor Moore would confirm that many medicines—some easily obtainable—can be used to sicken or kill. And we haven't even scratched the surface of tricks like modifying a photon torpedo to explode within the ship or just after a launch; such an act could kill everyone aboard."


Drake taps on his PADD, and the table projector display changes to written documentation. "If you would be so kind as to examine this data, you will note some relevant facts about the wolfsbane. Yes, it is possible for the plant to cause death, but the biggest risks associated with growing it are that it can cause nausea and sleepiness in humans exposed to the aromas of the plant, and that skin contact with the plant can cause sickness. Death typically requires ingestion of the plant, but it has an extremely unpleasant flavor which curtails this - most deaths associated with it arose via application through broken skin, as in a blade coated with the plant's material, or introduction via mucous membranes such as the female genitalia."


The Captain arches his eyebrows. "I pray that you will forgive me if I found these scenarios to be slightly less likely than obtaining a traditional weapon or poison. The containment fields were more for the comfort and day to day safety of the crew than for anything else. And there is, of course, the fact that Lieutenant Tesenblen had obtained seeds for the plant, seeds that would not, in fact, yield full sized plants until long after the current diplomatic mission was completed. As such, I determined that the wolfsbane provided a negligent risk to the mission, and that the security protocols proposed by Lieutenant Tesenblen were more than adequate to ensure the safety of the crew."


Silas falls silent and allows silence to hang over the room for a few long moments. Asovil, still regarding the document Drake has presented, doesn't see when he eventually returns his stern attention to Lauren Crane.


"Chief," he speaks, drawing the CSO's attention back to the proceedings and away from the document, "I want to be abundantly clear. My issue is not with the fact that you questioned my judgment. Had you gone through appropriate channels and raised your concerns to me, I would have shared the above data with you and hopefully set your fears at ease. If, for some reason, you had information that I was not privy to, I would have gladly considered it. I do not take the safety of this ship or her crew lightly. I am responsible for more than sixty souls, and I bear that responsibility with every fiber of my being."


The Captain's voice once again takes on a hard edge. "However, much like I choose to trust you and the other specialists in the execution of your duties, so too do I expect for you to trust the chain of command. It is my job to make decisions like this one, and I do not believe that it is too much for me to expect you to understand that I will make those decisions in the best interests of this crew, this ship, and our missions. This is the entire foundation of the operation of a starship - we must trust one another to do our jobs... especially on a craft of this size, where there is little to no redundancy in any given department or position. If that trust is not there, we are doomed to fail before we even undertake a task."


Drake shakes his head slightly. "Lieutenant Zai feels 'almost ashamed' in the lack of faith we as a command staff have instilled that would cause you to feel you needed to go outside the chain of command to resolve this matter." He pauses for a moment. "I, on the other hand, am absolutely appalled that such a condition would exist to begin with."


His face a cold, stony mask, the Captain continues, "I am unaware of any situation that I or Lieutenant Zai have so grossly mishandled over the past three months to justify such a lack of faith. In fact, I can think of no situation during that time—that being, of course, the time since I assumed command of this vessel—that crew safety has ever been put at risk from any decision. It would seem to me, then, that the failing is yours, Chief, not ours."


Drake sighs as though the next thing he is going to say is a drain on his person. "The chain of command is there for a reason. If it is not respected, people die and ships are lost. It may sound like an oversimplification, but that is the absolute truth. As a scientist, you may not have been involved in such situations, but that does not diminish their reality. Absent clear and irrefutable evidence that the Captain is making a choice to unnecessarily endanger the crew or the ship, you are honor bound to respect that chain of command. Even then, many an officer has found themselves on the wrong side of a court martial for choosing to stand against it; you must realize that while you are, in fact, a trained expert in your field, the fact is that Starfleet has expended not insignificant resources to train Command officers to likewise be fit for their posts. Let the record show that I have an open door policy—you may always bring your concerns to me—but even so, I expect for orders to be followed and the chain of command to be respected at all times. There are no exceptions."


The Captain clears his throat. "Chief Crane, had we still been at port when I discovered your transgression, I would have beached you on the spot. Fortunately for your career, that was not the case. Be that as it may, here is my ruling."


Asovil's sapphire eyes drift back to the woman who is now barely holding her composure. I know the feeling, Lauren Crane, the Andorian acknowledges, wondering at the feeling of sympathy that is flooding her being. Just a few days back, Lt. Sh'iraolnas found herself facing a similar moment in time; awaiting the verdict on a decision that will impact her position in Starfleet and her future. Watching another agonize—though stoically—brings those emotions back with a vengeance.


Drake fixes Crane with his level gaze. "Chief Petty Officer Lauren Crane, I do hereby find you guilty in the matter of this gross violation of the chain of command, and find no mitigating circumstances to justify your actions in any degree. Therefore, your punishment will be as follows.


"First, you are hereby reduced in rate to Petty Officer, First Class. All privileges and benefits are likewise hereby reduced.


"Second, you will be confined to the brig for three days, during which you will subside on bread and water rations only."


One of the Trill's brows arches at that and his gaze snaps from Silas to Crane and back again. A bit harsh, Silas, he thinks. As severe and, frankly, antiquated a measure as it was, though, Lt Zai couldn't help but understand that it was being imposed by way of making a sharp point to his sentencing of the woman. Bread and water for three days, we think, is still preferable to what might have come from a full tribunal.

Bread and water? Asovil looks silent askance of her captain as her antennae speak more dramatically by perking right up atop the back of her head. Is this a Terran treatment of criminals I'm not familiar with? Trying to recall anything about this particular punishment in Starfleet's manual, she nearly misses the first sentence Drake continues with.


"Third, upon completion of your time in the brig, you will return to duty, as the science department can ill-afford being short an experienced staff member. However, for the next fourteen days, you will remain confined to quarters when not actively conducting your normal duties or such special projects as your department head may assign to you. During this fourteen day period, you will forego any 'off days' as may have been part of your normal schedule, instead making yourself available for duty shifts as needed by your department head to help cover for the strain of others being forced to work extra shifts to cover for your absence. You may visit the crew mess to obtain your own meals during this time period, but you will take said meals in your quarters.


"Fourth, for the fourteen days following this period, you will be likewise assigned extra duties to be completed once your normal daily shifts are done.


"Finally, a written reprimand will be placed into your service record."


A faintly rueful sigh whispers past the XO's lips as Drake comes to the end of his sentencing drawing the blue-skinned beauty's attention briefly from the downtrodden face of the once-chief. Aside from the bread and water stipulation (and perhaps the three days in the brig) all of the punishments levied by the Captain had been expected, the reduction in grade, restriction to limits, additional duties, all of it, and, yet, expectations aside, the Trill couldn't keep himself from feeling marginally defeated by the pronunciation. Hopefully, he managed to keep too much of it from showing on his face, though. We've done all we could do, he reminds himself as Silas takes a breath, preparing to wrap the proceedings, Petty Officer Crane understands this, we hope.

Poor Tochi, Asovil thinks with compassion. I'll have to see that he's not blaming himself for Lauren's ruling.

The Captain takes a breath. "I trust that this will be the end of the matter, and that chain of command will never again be an issue with you, Petty Officer Crane. Understand that if anything like this ever happens again, the punishment will not be so light—your career in Starfleet will be over. Understand, too, that I expect you to return to full and vigorous execution of your duties. If I find out otherwise... well, let's trust that I won't find out otherwise."


Drake looks around the room. "If no one else has anything to add?"


"No, sir," Zai offers as Drake's eyes meet his, "Thank you, Captain."


Lt. Sh'iraolnas finds herself unwilling to speak despite not being the one under direct fire from the captain she has twice seen enraged and now seen extremely thorough in disciplining crew.


Silas nods. "Very well. Lieutenant Berk, please escort Petty Officer Crane to the brig. The rest of you are dismissed."


Tochi rises from his seat in concert with Lauren as she gains her feet and offers a reassuring (if somewhat diffident) smile to the woman while Lt. Berk moves to her side. The weak smile she replies with emotes both her disappointment and her understanding. "Thank you, sir," she murmurs, "for all that you've tried to do."


Asovil slowly pushes her chair back and slides to her feet, watching the interaction between the two with an expressionless mask of serenity.


"Of course," Tochi replies with a nod, "We're sorry that it couldn't have been more."


The mousy woman forces a bit of hopefulness into her expression. "New beginnings and better memories, right, Lieutenant?" she smiles.


"Right," Tochi returns, "Remember that, Lauren."


Lauren nods in response as Lt. Berk ushers her from the room. Once she's gone, Tochi gathers his PADD from the table and, following a glance and a faint grin in Asovil's direction, strides into the corridor, himself. Returning the grin with a sympathetic smile, the Andorian remains at the table while the others leave.


As the doors to the Captain's Mess whisk shut behind him, Lt Zai pauses and lifts a hand to, first, rub at his eyes and, then, as a weary sigh escapes him, that same hand runs through his hair and comes to rest at the base of his skull. What a day, he thinks, massaging a small knot of tension from his neck as he glances in one direction and then the other along the corridor, The best we can hope for, now, is an uneventful bridge-shift.

Finally leaving the room, Asovil nearly bumps into Tochi and catches her breath as she deftly steps to the side avoiding impact. Seeing the look on his face, she reaches out a timid hand and touches his forearm. "Are you well?"


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Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 4 - CSO's Office - 14:43

"Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas to Sickbay," Asovil settles into her chair and allows it to recline. The office temperature is warmer than she prefers, but seeing how this isn't her personal quarters, she's inclined to keep it at a temperature those visiting would appreciate. Still, it is unsettling and she finds the urge to strip off her uniform jacket quite compelling.


(OOC: Sickbay's reply.)


"I'm looking for a report on PO Rogers condition," the Andorian informs the speaker while at the same time, pulling up her messages on the PADD she retrieves from her desktop.


(OOC: Sickbay's answer.)


"Very well. I'd like to be notified when he's coherent and capable of discussing this accident," she instructs while scanning the headlines of her inbox and pausing on the one she has been searching for.


(OOC: Sickbay's answer.)


"Thank you," she taps the message header and pulls up the report from the various departments who have been involved with Petty Officer Roger's accident. With the communication between her and Sickbay over, the scientist begins reviewing the report. A skilled chemist should not have been haphazardly engaged in experiments that would have resulted in the conditions reported by Medical. Further on in the report, she discovers that the chemical analysis does not reveal the nature of the burning or acidic element that ate through Roger's clothing and flesh. Pushing past additional medical information for the time being, Asovil settles on the Engineering section. Reporting on the cleanup of the chemlab, the results are symbiotic with those found in Medical. Nothing within the agents that could be responsible for the amount of damage caused to his flesh. Scrolling past the Engineering section she comes to the Security portion. Here, she reads that containers for each of the present chemicals were, in fact, mislabeled.


"Interesting," she mutters. Why would the chemicals be mislabeled, and why wouldn't Rogers have noticed?

Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 5 - Observation Lounge "The Aerie" - 1300

"Uncomfortable?"

Tochi wonders for a moment if the word is more question than statement, especially when her gaze fixes on a point near but not on him. It hasn't gone unnoticed in own his mind that his infatuation with Asovil Sh'iraolnas has developed at an unusualy quick rate, but, then again, were he honest with himself, he hadn't so much as entertained a serious relationship since his joining, let alone indulge in some frivolous shore-leave one nighter, There has to be something here, he reasons, waiting for her next words, "why else would we be dreading what might spill past her lips next? He feels unusually, expectant, as he watches her and, when those deepest-of-blue eyes, at last find his again, he can't help but find comfort and, perhaps, reassurance in the softness of her expression.

"I'm not uncomfortable, Tochi," the fetching Andorian scientist says, prompting a relieved and, moreso, contented grn from the Trill, "Nor would I allow such petty whispers to dissuade me from pursuing an interest."

He feels his own cheeks warm a fraction as Asovil's go a deeper blue in her own blush and, drawn in by her demeanor and body language, Tochi feels himself leaning further in to the conversation as if pulled by a tractor beam. His gaze absorbs every aspect of her as she continues; "I've been enjoying our time together, and I feel that the past hours aboard the Peregrine would have been far less bearable had you not been a part of them.


I hereby grant you permission to continue to do whatever this is we've been doing, and you have already earned the right to call me a friend, so I urge you to continue to do so."

Whatever this is, Tochi muses, still watching her intently from where he is propped on his elbows across the table from her, and what exactly is this? The thought brings a subtle shift to the grin on his lipse, as he thinks, they think, he might know, but he lets the rumination go unspoken for the moment. He's much more content, now, to let her continue speaking, and watching her do so.

Lifting the katheka to her lips, Asovoil sips pensively, her long-lashed eyelids closing as she revels in that sampling of the beverage and, perhaps, her thoughts. Tochi notes the ululation of the muscles in her throat as she swallows the sip and can almost swear that he feels her wyws open and fix on him again, afterward. The sensation, of course, draws his gaze back up to hers and he finds himself hesitant to sip from his own cup as she gentlym prods; "From a purely scientific standpoint, Crewman Sudar is a Betazoid, no? And as a Betazoid, he's privileged to empathic readings of our emotions. That he would be presenting such indicators as to support the scuttlebutt to which you refer, would that not lean towards empirical data supporting the rumors?"

Had he had to gauge it by the warm flush that spread in his cheeks, if the had ever been a time in which Tochi Zai's spots had truly gone purple, this would have been the moment. His eyes, for some reason, wanted to break form hers, but couldn't and he had to lift his own cup to his lips again in order to keep his smile from completely swallowing his face. Feigning the sip and swallow wasn't easy - especially for as long as he had tried to do so - but, when he managed to force it to an end, he had determined that he wouldn't, couldn't, lie to her about it, even for discretion's sake. The demure and, still, mischievous look she gave him didn't help matters.

Ancients help me, the Trill pleads, his gaze still refusing to let go of hers as he returns his cup to the table.

"At the risk of sounding entirely too forward, Asovil," he admits, "there is most certainly empirical data offering credence to those rumors." That confession provides enough self-consciousness for the Trill to let his gaze dip from hers to the plate of food before him for a nano-second and, as his cheeks flush even warmer, he offers up a soft chuckle to the air before his eyes swim up to hers, again.

"If I told you the truth of it," he smiles, his voice gentle and true, "I would have to admit being infatuated with you within moments of the start of our first conversation," One of his hands unfurls from around the cup and subtly lifts in a gesture meant to forestall any response from the newly appointed CSO, just yet, and hangs in the air as if Tochi is forcibly trying to keep it from reaching for one of her hands thereafter, "I understand that you and I have known each other for mere hours," the words come out somewhere between a mutter and a whisper, "and that it may seem a bit much, even from the ‘passionate Andorian' perspective, but I feel as if I have been," An instant passes, in which the expressions on Zai's face denote an almost physical struggle to find the most appropriate word, at the end of which, he offers a shrug as if to preface his choice as, perhaps, not being the ideal, ",drawn to you."

His hand falls to the table, again, landing a scant millimenter from her's before begrudgingly withdrawing to occupy itself with the curve of the katheka cup. "I've not felt this, anything like this," his words are a whisper (if not less) now, and his eyes, once more try to avert from hers and fail, "since before we were joined."

Tochi chuckles then, softly, and perhaps a bit tentatively, before he finds it in himself to continue. "Over the course of our lifetimes," he says after a moment, his voice rising above a whisper again, "we have come to learn that romantic relationships are not a thing to be taken lightly. In fact, once you become joined, such thoughts are almost tertiary," The Trill's gave can't help but fall away from hers, then, and he stares at the dark surface of his cup's contents as he proceeds, ",but, when those feelings so much as scratch at your mind once the joining has happened, one can't help but give that sense it's due weight,"

Tochi shakes his head and chuckles, again, reluctant to lift his eyes to the sapphire-blue ones awaiting them across the table, but he does so anyway and, along with the glance, he offers a marginally contrite shrug. "We've only just met, Asovil," he says, absently spinning the cup between his hands, "and I don't want to force anything but, as Tam has seen fit to interject the topic before I could allow it to come up naturally," he lifts the cup, tipping it to his lips as if the swallow of caff will somehow make his confession easier. ",Yes," he says before his eyes fix to her's again, "I find you beyond intriguing and would like to pursue this to wherever it may lead."

((OOC: If that's not a good place to say "TAG", I'm an idiot! ,))

==================================================================


USS Peregrine; Deck 2 - Corridor outside the Captain's Mess - 1425

As the doors to the Captain's Mess whisk shut behind him, Lt Zai pauses and lifts a hand to, first, rub at his eyes and, then, as a weary sigh escapes him, that same hand runs through his hair and comes to rest at the base of his skull. What a day, he thinks, massaging a small knot of tension from his neck as he glances in one direction and then the other along the corridor, The best we can hope for, now, is an uneventful bridge-shift,

The pneumatic sound of the door fails to alert him of another presence in the corridor but the light touch of Asovil's fingers on his forearm awakens him quickly enough. Without truly thinking about it, his hand moves to curls around the one of hers that has gently lit on his arm and, as he gives it a gentle squeeze before releasing it, his head turns so that his eyes might meet hers.

"Are you well," Asovil asks softly.

"Fine," Tochi sighs in reply as her hand drifts away and he wishes he'd have held it a moment longer, "just tired, and, maybe, a bit surprised at some of the Captain's penalties." The Trill grins and waves away the complaint as inconsequential, at the moment, and focuses fully on the Andorian woman at his side.

"How are you," he asks, "Will Lauren's incarceration affect your labs over the next three days?"

((OOC: Assuming an Asovilesque "we'll manage" reply,))

Tochi smiles, resisting the urge to take the Andorian beatuy's hand back into his own. "If it becomes a problem," he offers, "let us know. I'm sure schedules can be juggled to accommodate if necessary."

As he is about to suggest that the two of them take a leisurely stroll before his bridg shift commences, Lt Zai's comm-badge chirps for attention. =/\= Petty Officer Owen to Lt Zai.=/\=

Tochi's eyes close as he sucks in a long, deep breath and, at it's apex, taps the communicator affixed to his uniforms breast; "Zai, here. What can we do for you, Megan?"

=/\=Well, sir, I was just wond'rin', bein' as it's me first day at CONN an' all, if I might not need ta report a wee bit early,=/\= the elfin voice lilted from the badge, =/\=Y'know, jus' ta give m'self a minute ta acclimate an' sech? Simulations an' th' holosuites're one thing, sir, an' the actual bridge is somethin' else, I figger, an,=/\=

"Of course, Petty Officer," Zai smiles blearily, cutting the perky little woman short, "Why don't you make your way to the bridge, now, and we'll meet you there."

=/\=Marvy! Thankee, sir!=/\=

"See you in a moment, Megan," Tochi replies, shaking his head slowly. That girl is bucking for OCS, he muses absently, We'll have to note that in her file, after we see how she does at helm tonight.

"We have to go," he grumbles to Asovil, then, fixing her with a smile that hovers between weary and hopeful,"Will we see you later?"

Stardate 2365.02.09
USS Peregrine, Captain's Mess - 1412

Mathias stood at the back of the Captain's Mess, standing at ease, merely observing the proceedings as they played out before them, watching Lt. Zai advocate for Chief Crane who so far had conducted herself calmly and professionally, answering questions as they were posed. At this point his mind had started to wander.

"Petty Officer Wright ought to completing the diagnostic of the forward torpedo launchers A prior diagnostic had suggested there was a small transient power drain in the induction coils. He also needed to get some range time in at some point today"
"Lieutenant Berk."

Mathias, snapped to.

"Assuming that you were to take us by surprise, how long would it take you to kill everyone in this room with the sidearm you are wearing?"

"Sir?" Taken somewhat aback by the directness of the question.

The Captains eyes narrowed, he repeated the question coldly and deliberately. "Just answer the question, Lieutenant. If you were to take us by surprise, how long would it take you to kill everyone in the room with your sidearm?"

Mathias shifted his weight back and forth on the balls of his feet still processing the question "Er... well, sir. It honestly would only take a few seconds. I mean, we're practically at point blank range, so assuming I prioritized my threats, it wouldn't take long."

The Captain nodded. "Thank you, mister Berk. That estimate, of course, is for your sidearm; if I am not mistaken, we stock phaser rifles in our armory that are more powerful than your hand phaser, and we also stock heavier weapons and explosives - some of which could, in fact, punch a hole through the hull. Do we not?"

"Yes, Captain. We have more powerful weapons like the ones you describe." Still feeling uncomfortable. "We have sufficient armaments to arm a small nation, perish the thought."
"Thank you, Lieutenant." answered the Captain, seemingly satisfied with Mathias' response.

He turned his gaze to Lasad. "Lieutenant Lasad, how difficult would it be to use the replicator to create various engineering compounds that could be used to commit murder?


********************************************************

Silas went silent then, and allowed the silence to hang over the room with a chilling effect. The Captain's eyes scanned the room and then fixed his gaze on Crane once more.

"Chief," he spoke, "I want to be abundantly clear - my issue is not with the fact that you questioned my judgment. Had you gone through appropriate channels and raised your concerns to me, I would have shared the above data with you and hopefully set your fears at ease. If, for some reason, you had information that I was not privy to, I would have gladly considered it. I do not take the safety of this ship or her crew lightly. I am responsible for more than sixty souls, and I bear that responsibility with every fiber of my being."

"I don't doubt that for a second, he seems nothing but committed to his crew. I'm not sure he's the most approachable CO I've had though.
The Captain's voice once again took on a hard edge. "However, much like I choose to trust you and the other specialists in the execution of your duties, so too do I expect for you to trust the chain of command. It is my job to make decisions like this one, and I do not believe that it is too much for me to expect you to understand that I will make those decisions in the best interests of this crew, this ship, and our missions. This is the entire foundation of the operation of a starship - we must trust one another to do our jobs... especially on a craft of this size, where there is little to no redundancy in any given department or position. If that trust is not there, we are doomed to fail before we even undertake a task."

Drake shook his head slightly. "Lieutenant Zai feels 'almost ashamed' in the lack of faith we as a command staff have instilled that would cause you to feel you needed to go outside the chain of command to resolve this matter." He paused for a moment. "I, on the other hand, am absolutely appalled that such a condition would exist to begin with."


His face a cold, stony mask, the Captain continued. "I am unaware of any situation that I or Lieutenant Zai have so grossly mishandled over the past three months to justify such a lack of faith. In fact, I can think of no situation during that time - that being, of course, the time since I assumed command of this vessel - that crew safety has ever been put at risk from any decision. It would seem to me, then, that the failing is yours, Chief - not ours."

Drake sighed. "The chain of command is there for a reason. If it is not respected, people die and ships are lost. It may sound like an oversimplification, but that is the absolute truth. As a scientist, you may not have been involved in such situations, but that does not diminish their reality. Absent clear and irrefutable evidence that the Captain is making a choice to unnecessarily endanger the crew or the ship, you are honor bound to respect that chain of command. Even then, many an officer has found themselves on the wrong side of a court martial for choosing to stand against it; you must realize that while you are, in fact, a trained expert in your field, the fact is that Starfleet has expended not insignificant resources to train Command officers to likewise be fit for their posts. Let the record show that I have an open door policy - you may always bring your concerns to me - but even so, I expect for orders to be followed and the chain of command to be respected at all times. There are no exceptions."

It might be a failing on their part if the crew doesn't feel comfortable approaching the Captain.
The Captain cleared his throat. "Chief Crane, had we still been at port when I discovered your transgression, I would have beached you on the spot. Fortunately for your career, that was not the case. Be that as it may, here is my ruling."

Drake fixed Crane with his gaze. "Chief Petty Officer Lauren Crane, I do hereby find you guilty in the matter of this gross violation of the chain of command, and find no mitigating circumstances to justify your actions in any degree. Therefore, your punishment will be as follows.

First, you are hereby reduced in rate to Petty Officer, First Class. All privileges and benefits are likewise hereby reduced.

Second, you will be confined to the brig for three days, during which you will subside on bread and water rations only.

" Three days in the brig, and getting busted down in rate? A little extreme? Maybe? It certainly sends a strong message, the Captain isn't one to be crossed.
Third, upon completion of your time in the brig, you will return to duty, as the science department can ill afford being short an experienced staff member. However, for the next fourteen days, you will remain confined to quarters when not actively conducting your normal duties or such special projects as your department head may assign to you. During this fourteen day period, you will forego any 'off days' as may have been part of your normal schedule, instead making yourself available for duty shifts as needed by your department head to help cover for the strain of others being forced to work extra shifts to cover for your absence. You may visit the crew mess to obtain your own meals during this time period, but you will take said meals in your quarters.


During this fourteen day period, you will be assigned extra duties to be completed once your normal daily shifts are done.

Fourth, for the fourteen days following this period, you will be likewise assigned extra duties to be completed once your normal daily shifts are done.

Finally, a written reprimand will be placed into your service record."

The Captain took a breath. "I trust that this will be the end of the matter, and that chain of command will never again be an issue with you, Petty Officer Crane. Understand that if anything like this ever happens again, the punishment will not be so light - your career in Starfleet will be over. Understand, too, that I expect you to return to full and vigorous execution of your duties. If I find out otherwise... well, let's trust that I won't find out otherwise."

Drake looked around the room. "If no one else has anything to add?"

Nothing but silence.

Silas nodded. "Very well. Lieutenant Berk, please escort Petty Officer Crane to the brig. The rest of you are dismissed."

Mathias approached Crane from behind taking a knee next to her and spoke softly, he took no pleasure in marching a member of the crew to the brig. "Petty Officer Crane, if you'll come with me please."

At least she's not being thrown in Solitary

***********************************************************

Mathias and PO Crane had rode the turbolift in silence, the doors opened on deck 5, fortunately the security office was all but deserted, save Crewman Galla, Mathias nodded at him and gestured for him to follow him into the Brig.

Mathias led Lauren into the waiting cell and activated the force field, the static zap and a slight smell of ozone filled the air as it activated filling the room with a very faint hum. "I need to get someone from engineering to come check the field emitters, they might be running a tad hot. PO Crane made her way to the bed and sat, a defeated expression showing on her face

"Miss Crane, should you require anything not prohibited to you as per the Captain's orders, please inform Crewman Gallo, beyond that, a security officer will be by twice daily with your meals." Mathias explained.

"Aye, sir." she responded, softly.

(OCC: Lots of Mathias' thoughts in this one, I was at a loss for what else to do and it seemed like a nice opportunity to display a different side of this character)

Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 4 - Sickbay - 14:43

=/\= Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas to Sickbay. =/\=

Dana had just sat down at her desk after running another scan of PO Rogers' injuries to assure that the damage had been arrested and that he was resting comfortably, when the intercom went off and she hit her comm-badge to respond.


"Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas this is Chief Cook" she said; a hint of fatigue in her voice.


=/\= I'm looking for a report on PO Rogers condition. =/\=


"His condition?" Dana said with a faint snort, "he's lucky to be alive. I have entered my initial report, which you should have received a message alerting you of it. I have also tagged it so that any updates on his condition will alert you as well as the Captain."


=/\= Very well. I'd like to be notified when he's coherent and capable of discussing this accident =/\=


"You will be," Dana replied, "Please make sure to notify Medical when your report is ready on the investigation of how something like this could have happened. I don't need to tell you Lieutenant, but this could have been much worse if it had gotten out of the Science Lab. Cook Out!"


Dana wasn't sure if she liked this Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas yet or not. She hadn't really meet her but the one time; she had seemed cold and stern but efficient. Yet she had been in charge of the Science Department for only a day, and one her subordinates somehow almost kills himself in a way that shouldn't happen, and another had faced Captain's Mast.


Lauren. She couldn't blame that on the Lieutenant, Lauren had done the crime and would surely face the punishment. The mast was probably over by now; she wondered of the outcome.


"Chief Cook to Chief Brooks," she said after tapping her comm-badge.


=/\= Brooks here. =/\=


"Reg," she said, then swallowed down her nerves before asking, "what's the word?"


She knew Chief Reginald Brooks was Tactical, yet he was still within the Security group and would hear the latest from the Captain's Mass before she did from where she was stuck here in Sickbay till her shift ended.


=/\= About what one would expect, Dana. Reduction in Rank to 1st Class, Restriction and Extra duty for 14 days, then another 14 days of extra duty, a written reprimand, and 3 days in the Brig , Bread and water. =/\=


Dana sat up at that last one. It was pretty severe punishment for restriction to bread and water for 3 days. It didn't sound bad but the restriction took it's toll on a person, especially if that person wasn't used to being deprived of regular meals. She doubted that Lauren had eaten well in the time leading up to the Captain's Mast.


"Thanks Reg." Dana signed off and sighed heavily as she sat back in her seat. She sat there quietly for a minute or two before sitting up again and unconsciously straightened her uniform tunic before tapping her comm-badge again.


"Chief Cook to Captain Drake," she said in a sure tone.


(OOC: Assume the Captain will answer. )


"Captain," she paused for a second then went on, "I understand that PO Crane was sentenced to 3 days in the Brig on a bread and water restriction."


(OOC: Assuming an affirmative response.)


"Captain, per Starfleet Medical Regulation 927.6 any prisoner restricted to B&W must have their medical condition established at the beginning of the confinement as well as after each 24 hours, and at their release," Dana paused to take a breath, "I request your permission to examine PO Crane now, and each 24 hrs while she is confined in the Brig and to certify her fitness prior to her return to due."


(OOC: Will await the Captain's response.)


(OOC: Sorry for my poor response here, I'll get back up to speed soon. )

(Edit: To correct comments about punishment)

Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 5 - Observation Lounge "The Aerie" - 13:04

Had he been forced to gauge by the warm flush that spread in his cheeks, if there had ever been a time in which Tochi Zai's spots had truly gone purple, this would have been the moment. His eyes, for some reason, want to break from her's but couldn't, and he had to lift his cup to his lips again in order to keep his smile from completely swallowing his face. Feigning the sip and swallow wasn't easy—especially for as long as he had tried to do so—but, when he manages to force it to an end, he determines that he wouldn't—couldn't—lie to her about his feelings even for discretion sake. The demure and, still, mischievous look she gives him doesn't help matters.

Ancients help me, the Trill pleads, his gaze still refusing to let go of her's as he returns his cup to the table.

"At the risk of sounding entirely too forward, Asovil," he admits, "there is most certainly empirical data offering credence to those rumors." That confession provides enough self-consciousness for the Trill to let his gaze dip from her's to the plate of food before him for a nano-second and, as his cheeks flush even warmer, he offers up a soft chuckle to the air as his eyes swim up to hers.

"If I told you the truth of it," he smiles, his voice gentle and true, "I would have to admit being infatuated with you within moments of the start of our first conversation," One of his hands unfurls from around the cup and subtly lifts in a gesture meant to forestall any response from the newly appointed CSO just yet, and hangs in the air as if Tochi is forcibly trying to keep it from reaching for one of her hands thereafter. "I understand that you and I have known each other for mere hours," the words come out somewhere between a mutter and a whisper, "and that it may seem a bit much, even from the ‘passionate Andorian' perspective, but I feel as if I have been," An instant passes, in which the expressions on Zai's face denotes an almost physical struggle to find the most appropriate word at the end of which he offers a shrug as if to preface his choice as, perhaps, not being the ideal, ",drawn to you."

His hand falls to the table, again, landing a scant millimeter from her's before begrudgingly withdrawing to occupy itself with the curve of the katheka cup. "I've not felt this, anything like this," his words are a whisper (if not less) now, and his eyes, once more try to avert from hers and fail, "since before we were joined."

Tochi chuckles then, softly, and perhaps a bit tentatively, before he finds it in himself to continue. "Over the course of our lifetimes," he says after a moment, his voice rising above a whisper again, "we have come to learn that romantic relationships are not a thing to be taken lightly. In fact, once you become joined, such thoughts are almost tertiary," The Trill's gaze can't help but fall away from her's then and he stares at the dark surface of his cup's contents as he proceeds, ",but, when those feelings so much as scratch at your mind once the joining has happened, one can't help but give that sense it's due weight,"

Tochi shakes his head and chuckles again, reluctant to lift his eyes to the sapphire-blue ones awaiting them across the table; but he does so anyway and, along with the glance, he offers a marginally contrite shrug. "We've only just met, Asovil," he says, absently spinning the cup between his hands, "and I don't want to force anything but, as Tam has seen fit to interject the topic before I could allow it to come up naturally," he lifts the cup, tipping it to his lips as if the swallow of caff will somehow make his confession easier. ",Yes," he says before his eyes fix to her's again, "I find you beyond intriguing and would like to pursue this to wherever it may lead."

Well, I'll be frozen in ice and shipped to Iota Cephai, Asovil maintains composure by sheer willpower. Lt. Zai's speech confounds her. It is true that Andorians are a passionate people, and it isn't unheard of for the blue-skinned race to rush into very prurient relationships, but it is a rare thing for the scientist. She can count on one hand the number of relationships she's experienced in her lifetime and all of them have been with Andorians. The strange draw she feels towards the Trill is something of uncharted territory for her, and the nature of Andorian impulse is embattled with her scientific caution. Warm tingling sensations pulse from her heart to her limbs as she replays the roguish XO's words and she is surprised at the realization that the sensation is excitement.

"Then it is decided," she sets her mug before her and raises both eyebrows rather coyly. "We shall give the crew reason to scuttlebutt."

Feeling the excitement of this new horizon further permeate her being, the blue-skinned beauty leans forward and places the index and middle fingers of her right hand on the top of Tochi's. "Are you going to act as Chief Crane's advocate, Tochi? I fear that it is really a rather cut and wry situation and there won't be much of an opportunity to offer a defense. Were Chief Crane on board an Andorian Cruiser, her fate would have been sealed the moment the reports were submitted and an Ushaan would be the results."

Discussing the business of the day is a difficult adjustment for the science officer when really all she wants to do is think on the possible futures that lay ahead for Tochi and her.


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


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


Finally leaving the room, Asovil nearly bumps into Tochi and catches her breath as she deftly steps to the side avoiding impact. Seeing the look on his face, she reaches out a timid hand and touches his forearm. "Are you well?"

"Fine," Tochi sighs in reply as her hand drifts away and he wishes he'd have held it a moment longer, "just tired, and, maybe, a bit surprised at some of the Captain's penalties." The Trill grins and waves away the complaint as inconsequential, at the moment, and focuses fully on the Andorian woman at his side.

"How are you," he asks, "Will Lauren's incarceration affect your labs over the next three days?"

Lt. Sh'iraolnas waves the question away with an exaggerated motion of her left hand. "Inconsequential. We shall make due with what we have and be the better for it."

Tochi smiles, resisting the urge to take the Andorian beauty's hand back into his own. "If it becomes a problem," he offers, "let us know. I'm sure schedules can be juggled to accommodate if necessary."

"The only problem that I can see arising," the young officer accepts the smile with a brilliant grin of her own, "is the potential for more of my time, which means less time I can spend bothering you."

As Tochi is about to suggest that the two of them take a leisurely stroll before his bridge shift commences, Lt Zai's comm-badge chirps for attention. =/\= Petty Officer Owen to Lt Zai.=/\=

Tochi's eyes close as he sucks in a long, deep breath and, at it's apex, taps the communicator affixed to his uniforms breast; "Zai, here. What can we do for you, Megan?"

=/\=Well, sir, I was just wond'rin', bein' as it's me first day at CONN an' all, if I might not need ta report a wee bit early,=/\= the elfin voice lilted from the badge, =/\=Y'know, jus' ta give m'self a minute ta acclimate an' sech? Simulations an' th' holosuites're one thing, sir, an' the actual bridge is somethin' else, I figger, an,=/\=

"Of course, Petty Officer," Zai smiles blearily, cutting the perky little woman short, "Why don't you make your way to the bridge, now, and we'll meet you there."

=/\=Marvy! Thankee, sir!=/\=

"See you in a moment, Megan," Tochi replies, shaking his head slowly. That girl is bucking for OCS, he muses absently, We'll have to note that in her file, after we see how she does at helm tonight.
"We have to go," he grumbles to Asovil, then, fixing her with a smile that hovers between weary and hopeful,"Will we see you later?"

"It is a small ship, Tochi Zai," the lithe woman proclaims as she brushes by him and flips a glance and a playful smile over her shoulder while gliding away with a bit of a sway.



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


Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.6)
USS Peregrine; Deck 4 - CSO's Office to Chemical Lab - 14:50

"Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas to Sickbay," Asovil settles into her chair and allows it to recline. The office temperature is warmer than she prefers, but seeing how this isn't her personal quarters, she's inclined to keep it at a temperature those visiting would appreciate. Still, it is unsettling and she finds the urge to strip off her uniform jacket quite compelling.

=/\=Lieutenant Sh'iraolnas, this is Chief Cook.=/\= Asovil catches a hint of weariness in the woman's tone but chooses to ignore it in case Cook is one of those sensitive Terrans who believe that any questioning of their endurance is a question to the virility of their ability.

"I'm looking for a report on PO Rogers condition," the Andorian informs the speaker while at the same time, pulling up her messages on the PADD she retrieves from her desktop.

=/\=His condition?=/\= Was that a snort? =/\=He's lucky to be alive. I have entered my initial report, which you should have received a message alerting you of it. I have also tagged it so that any updates on his condition will alert you as well as the Captain.=/\=

"Very well. I'd like to be notified when he's coherent and capable of discussing this accident," she instructs while scanning the headlines of her inbox and pausing on the one she has been searching for.

=/\=You will be. Please make sure to notify Medical when your report is ready on the investigation of how something like this could have happened. I don't need to tell you, Lieutenant, but this could have been much worse if it had gotten out of the Science Lab. Cook out.=/\=

"Thank you," she taps the message header and pulls up the report from the various departments who have been involved with Petty Officer Roger's accident. With the communication between her and Sickbay over, the scientist begins reviewing the report. A skilled chemist should not have been haphazardly engaged in experiments that would have resulted in the conditions reported by Medical. Further on in the report, she discovers that the chemical analysis does not reveal the nature of the burning or acidic element that ate through Roger's clothing and flesh. Pushing past additional medical information for the time being, Asovil settles on the Engineering section. Reporting on the cleanup of the chemlab, the results are symbiotic with those found in Medical. Nothing within the agents that could be responsible for the amount of damage caused to his flesh. Scrolling past the Engineering section she comes to the Security portion. Here, she reads that containers for each of the present chemicals were, in fact, mislabeled.

"Interesting," she mutters. Why would the chemicals be mislabeled, and why wouldn't Rogers have noticed?
Returning to the report, the CSO returns to the Engineering section and scans for the telling line that will reopen the laboratory. Discovering the line stating that the clean up has been concluded and that all harmful substances have been removed from the atmosphere and surfaces of the lab near the end of Engineering's report, the Andorian officer temporarily pushes the report to the sidebar of the PADD's screen and proceeds to the department inventory report. Calling up the list, she filters for chemicals and begins to look down the list.

Everything appears to be typical of a chemical lab and nothing seems to be out of the ordinary. Looking up from the screen with a furrowed brow, the lieutenant, junior grade, chews at the inside of her cheek. The chemicals shouldn't have interacted the way that they did, which would indicate a foreign substance was introduced at some point to cause the corrosive gas. Mislabeled canisters, chemicals being mixed with the potency to melt through a man's flesh, and the potential for another mystery catalyst substance point to one thing in the Andorian woman's sharp mind. Sabotage.
Exiting the inventory screen, Asovil returns the incident report to a prominent position and scrolls through to Security's section once again. A thorough reading indicates no sign of anything they consider to be more than an unfortunate error in judgment by PO Rogers. But they aren't scientists, the blue-skinned officer looks up from the PADD in consideration. Would they even know that the chemicals wouldn't normally interact in the way that they did?
Doubting that the security detail assigned to the incident would have the training to deduce possible sabotage, and wholly concerned that any such accusation might lead to nothing after a thorough investigation leaving her with a reputation as paranoid, Asovil makes the decision to approach further investigation with all of the caution one might use when putting together a tenuous scientific theory. There's no point in seeking publication until all points have been either credited or discredited.

Rising from her desk, she straightens her uniform by tugging at the waist and tucks the PADD under her left arm. Striding from her office, she spots Ensign Maize working at a station across the room.

"Ensign," Asovil calls out. "Care to join me?"

Dalia looks up, blinks, nods, and then turns back to her screen. She strikes a couple of commands into the computer and then turns from the fading black screen and quickly steps into stride with her senior officer.

"Chief Crane's Captain's Mast is concluded," the Andorian informs her subordinate as they navigate from the lab to the corridor beyond. "She's experienced a demotion to PO First Class and will be spending the next three days in the brig. After that, she'll have extra duties assigned for fourteen days and be confined to quarters when not on duty."

Ensign Maize nods but offers no additional comments, so Asovil continues, "With this demotion, the duties previous assigned to Crane as a Chief will fall to you. Do you have the bandwidth?"

"Yes, sir," Dalia responds coolly.

"Are you quite certain, Ensign?" Asovil pauses and turns to face the blonde woman. "This is not the time to be stoic. With PO Rogers in Sickbay and PO Crane in the brig, our department is seriously restricted."

"I understand, sir," the Ensign regards the blue-skinned officer with a flat expression. "There's nothing to be done about it, though. We'll have to make due with what we have available."

"True enough," Sh'iraolnas acknowledges and begins their walk again. "All non-essential projects will be put on hold until further notice. I'll leave it to you to decide what those are and to fill the rest of the staff in on the situation. We'll likely also have to restrict off time for the next few shifts. I regret the necessity of this order, but I'm afraid that we have to compensate."

"Understood."

Reaching the chem lab door, Asovil turns and faces Dalia Maize once more. "The department will get through this challenge, Ensign. And once these concerns are behind us, we'll seek to repair the relationships. I've done what I had to in order to bring the department into alignment with Starfleet regulations. I hope that you can see that, and that I can trust you to assist me in this process."

"Yes, sir," Ensign Maize replies stiffly resulting in a sigh from her superior officer.

There's a lot of work to be done here, Asovil decides. Dalia's pale face displays no insight into her internal workings, but the frigid demeanor is cold enough to make the moons of Andor jealous and the science officer can practically sense the dislike emanating from the ensign like a gamma ray.

"Thank you," she cedes. "Now, this,"

Facing the door, she leads the ensign through and into the cleaned laboratory beyond. Lighting in the chamber flares up illuminating the sleek design, workstations, and arrays of beakers, canisters, and tubing PO Rogers has set up throughout the room.

"Roger's injuries were derived from mixing of chemicals in mislabeled containers," she informs Dalia as she begins to walk slowly about the parameter of the room inspecting each items closely. "He doesn't strike me as the type to mislabel anything. Quite the contrary. I would think he'd be hyper-attentive with his inventory. Would that be a correct assumption?"

"He has never demonstrated a lack of attention to detail," Dalia acknowledges as she stands and watches the Andorian's progress.

"Hmmm," Asovil absorbs the news while bending and resting her palms on her knees so that she can better see the boiling contents of a beaker through the refracted light of the glass. "So, why do you think, Ensign, that three chemicals with malign side-effects would find their way into mislabeled jars?"

"Perhaps it was a packaging error made before receipt?"

"Perhaps." Straightening, the CSO tugs at the bottom of her uniform jacket and moves on to the adjacent workstation. "This is where the chemicals were mixed." Turning to look at Maize, Asovil points to the scarred stainless steel surface. "According to the logs, Rogers was in the process of developing a serum for the Tholrolia Nettle sting on Japori. A serum that required absolutely none of the chemicals that caused the incident."

"The chemicals," Dalia muses, finally caught up in the story. "... what were they again?"

"Sodium Azide, Tetrahydrofuran, and 2-Mercaptoethanol," Asovil replies, resting her right hand on the cool metal of the workstation counter.

"None of those chemicals would cause the amount of damage I saw on Roger's body," the ensign remarks, purple eyes flitting to where her CO's hand sits. "Even together, I don't see why they would do what they did."

"So," Asovil turns and drags her hand along the scarring as she continues on her way about the room. "What would be reason for the cloud and the damage to PO Rogers?"

"Another chemical, or series of chemicals, had to of been introduced," Dalia concludes.

"My thoughts, exactly." Pausing once again, Asovil turns and faces the ensign. "We'll need to try to duplicate the incident, Ensign. First, in theory, and then in application."

"We could compile a list of all of the chemicals in inventory and run them through a simulation of combinations to theorize results," Ensign Maize offers.

"Yes, let's." Leaning against the counter, Asovil folds her left arm across her ribs and rest the elbow of her right on it. Using the index finger of her right hand, she gently rubs at her bottom lip. "I'll work on creating a holodeck simulation of the incident that we can plug the variables from the derived theories into for testing.

"Ensign," Lt. Sh'iraolnas completely folds her arms and regards the Terran woman across from her. "Trace the latest shipping manifest to check against your first assumption, please. I do want to rule out all possibilities."

"Yes, sir," Dalia nods.

"I will need to make a report to Captain Drake sooner rather than later, so please be promptly conclusive. Inform me of completion timelines for your computer simulations once you know what they are. I hope that a regular update to the Captain will suffice while we work to conclude the investigation."

"Acknowledged, sir," Ensign Maize responds with grim determination. "I'll get right to work on the simulations."

Stardate 2365.02.09
USS Peregrine; Deck 5 - Observation Lounge "The Aerie" - 13:04

Tochi shakes his head and chuckles again, reluctant to lift his eyes to the sapphire-blue ones awaiting them across the table; but he does so anyway and, along with the glance, he offers a marginally contrite shrug. "We've only just met, Asovil," he says, absently spinning the cup between his hands, "and I don't want to force anything but, as Tam has seen fit to interject the topic before I could allow it to come up naturally," he lifts the cup, tipping it to his lips as if the swallow of caff will somehow make his confession easier. ",Yes," he says before his eyes fix to her's again, "I find you beyond intriguing and would like to pursue this to wherever it may lead."

The Trill's smile, somehow roguish even in its sincerity, hangs on the Andorian woman's reaction to his admission. While every word and every implied sentiment of it had been true, this was not how or when Tochi would have preferred to have it brought to light, They had only just met, after all, and had scarcely gotten to scratch at the surface of getting to know one another.Ideally, he might have preferred to simply nurture the initial attraction he had felt, cultivate the fruits of the occasional shared meal or passing conversation, and, over a span of days or weeks (most certaintly not hours) he would have finally conceded his feelings, and in a much more romantic air than the observation lounge, As it was, though, between a Betazoid's empathy, an Andorian's analytical prowess, and a tired Trill's unchecked tongue, there had been no sense in even trying to deny the pull he felt toward Asovil Sh'iraolnas and, for good or ill, had seen fit to lay the proverbial cards on the table. All he could do, now, was hope for good, and remind himself to breathe.

"Then it's decided," the willowy scientist says, setting her mug before her and raising her slender white brows in a coquettish manner that frees the XO's smile from where it had hesitated, "We shall give the crew reason to scuttlebutt."

Tochi's heart pounds out a trip-hammer rhythm as he beams across the table at her and, now, the hope is that the happily relieved sigh that just exploded in his mind hadn't crossed his lips. Several responses, many of them but single words, good, wonderful, fantastic, flash through his thoughts and play on his tongue, but few of them seem to be precisely appropriate and none come close to being capable of expressing his elation at her words. For the first time in, we have no idea how long, the Trill finds himself at a complet loss for words and can do little else other than smile. As he wrestles with his own exhilaration, likely grinning like a youngling who has asked their first crush on a walk along the Tenaran Ice Cliffs, Asovil seems to overcome whatever trepidation this moment has stirred in her in these past moments and, reaches out a pair of fingers that rest lightly on his hand.

"Are you going to act as Chief Crane's advocate, Tochi," she asks, her words like music in his ears despite the nature of the question and he is almost distracted by the stirring her light touch evokes in him as she continues, "I fear that it is really a rather cut and wry situation and there won't be much of an opportunity to offer a defense. Were Chief Crane on board an Andorian Cruiser, her fate would have been sealed the moment the reports were submitted and an Ushaan would be the results."

"I am," he nods, resisting the temptation to turn his hand over and entwine her fingers in his. Asovil's sudden transition to work details, in this moment, is a bit awkward given where his thoughts had just been but, despite the ungainliness of the change in topic, Tochi can't help but be grateful for it. At the very least it frees his tongue enough that words can flow smoothly across the once more. "Lt Lasad would have been Chief Crane's other option and, as he didn't come aboard much sooner than you did, we wouldn't have felt right leaving her defense, wanting as it may be, left in the hands of someone who wasn't, at least, familiar with her."

His eyes finally let go of hers and fall to the center of the table where her fingers grace the back of his hand and he lets go of his reluctance, turning that hand over, capturing the slender blue fingers in his palm, and silkily stroking a thumb along their length before he forces the hand to withdraw and occupy itself with the mug of katheka, instead. "You're right, of course," he adds, his fingers curling around the mug and lifting it inpreparartion for a sip, "Mister Crane's fate is as much sealed where this proceeding is concerned as she might be were she to fight the Ushaan with Captain Drake.

His gaze returns to hers, once more, regarding her over the rim of the mug as he offers a marginal shrug and a smile before indulging in a sip. "That said," he offers, returning the mug to the table, "we wouldn't be honoring our duties as either XO or advocate if we didn't, at the very least, try to muster something, if not a defense, then something by way of an explanation, anyway.

We spoke, at length, with Petty Officer Crane, this morning," Tochi continues, "and she is painfully aware of what her transgression is likely to cost her. Aware, too, that, had it been revealed before we left Starbase One-eighteen, she would likely not have the ‘luxury' of the NJP that is being afforded her. The consequences of her actions will likely not be as severe as they might be were she expected to take an ushaan-tor into single combat against Silas but," the Trill shrugs again ",hopefully, death won't be a remote possibility."

Tochi indulges in another taste of the katheka and, then, regards his lunch date curiously; "Does it bother you that we're representing Chief Crane, Asovil?" He shakes his head and waves his hand as if to erase any possible misinterpretation of the question from the air. "That, perhaps, isn't the proper way to phrase that query," His gaze dips to the shimmering black surface of the katheka that still fills his mug, ",Given what I've just said in regards to how I feel about you, would you prefer that I recuse myself as Lauren's advocate? We ask you, as a scientist, and as analytical as your ilk can be, would you deem my representation of Chief Crane as a conflict of interest?"

Stardate 2365.02.09
USS Peregrine; Deck 1 - Captain's Mess - 14:14

Finally leaving the room, Asovil nearly bumps into Tochi and catches her breath as she deftly steps to the side avoiding impact. Seeing the look on his face, she reaches out a timid hand and touches his forearm. "Are you well?"

"Fine," Tochi sighs in reply as her hand drifts away and he wishes he'd have held it a moment longer, "just tired, and, maybe, a bit surprised at some of the Captain's penalties." The Trill grins and waves away the complaint as inconsequential, at the moment, and focuses fully on the Andorian woman at his side.

"How are you," he asks, "Will Lauren's incarceration affect your labs over the next three days?"

Lt. Sh'iraolnas waves the question away with an exaggerated motion of her left hand. "Inconsequential. We shall make due with what we have and be the better for it."

Tochi smiles, resisting the urge to take the Andorian beauty's hand back into his own. "If it becomes a problem," he offers, "let us know. I'm sure schedules can be juggled to accommodate if necessary."

"The only problem that I can see arising," the young officer accepts the smile with a brilliant grin of her own, "is the potential for more of my time, which means less time I can spend bothering you."

"A grim potential if ever we've heard one," Tochi smiles softly, wanting to say, possibly do, more by way in reply; but, as he is about to suggest that the two of them take a leisurely stroll before his bridge shift commences, Lt Zai's comm-badge chirps for attention.

=/\= Petty Officer Owen to Lt Zai.=/\=

Tochi's eyes close as he sucks in a long, deep breath and, at it's apex, taps the communicator affixed to his uniforms breast; "Zai, here. What can we do for you, Megan?"

=/\=Well, sir, I was just wond'rin', bein' as it's me first day at CONN an' all, if I might not need ta report a wee bit early,=/\= the elfin voice lilts from the badge, =/\=Y'know, jus' ta give m'self a minute ta acclimate an' sech? Simulations an' th' holosuites're one thing, sir, an' the actual bridge is somethin' else, I figger, an,=/\=

"Of course, Petty Officer," Zai smiles blearily, cutting the perky little woman short, "Why don't you make your way to the bridge, now, and we'll meet you there."

=/\=Marvy! Thankee, sir!=/\=

"See you in a moment, Megan," Tochi replies, shaking his head slowly. That girl is bucking for OCS, he muses absently, We'll have to note that in her file, after we see how she does at helm tonight.

"We have to go," he grumbles to Asovil, then, fixing her with a smile that hovers between weary and hopeful,"Will we see you later?"

"It is a small ship, Tochi Zai," the lithe woman proclaims as she brushes by him and flips a glance and a playful smile over her shoulder while gliding away with a bit of a sway.

"Thank the ancients for that," Tochi answers, unabashedly watching the woman saunter away, "It means that we won't have to search overlong before we find you again." His eyes and thoughts remain on the elegant Andorian until she disappears in the junction of a couple of corridors, at which point he smiles softly and, with a resigned sigh, turns for the bridge.

Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday - 42137.7)
USS Peregrine; Deck 1 - Bridge - 14:28

As Lt Zai, with images of Asovil still playing in his mind, steps onto the bridge he is unsurprised to find PO3 Owen standing at the ready just on the other side of the door.

"Afternoon, Lieutenant," Megan chirps happily, snapping to attention as her CO materializes at her side, "Dinnae mean ta beat ya here but,"

"Quite alright, Megan," Tochi grins, dismissing her comment with a wave of his hand as his eyes flit around the bridge, watching the beginnings of shift change commence, "your enthusiasm is duly noted. You are ready for this, we trust?"

"JesusJosephan'Mary,Ihopeso,sir" the tiny woman prattled, veritably dancing in place as her own gaze dances excitedly over the bridge stations, "I'vebeenstudyinsohardan'runnin'moresimulationsthanIc'ncountan',"

"Breathe, Megan," Tochi suggests with a mild chuckle, resting a hand on Megan's shoulder, "Had we any doubt in your capabilities, we'd not have offered you this chance to begin with, hmmm? It was a rhetorical question."

"Rightrightright," the little red-head titters, still bouncing in place, "Thankeesir!"

"Have you relieved Ensign P'Tammah, yet," Lt Zai asks, nodding to where Vaela sits at the helm.

"No,sir," Megan speed answers, "Iwaswaitin'feryoutatellmeitwasokaytadosoan',"

Tochi makes a sweeping gesture to where a grinning Vaela sits at the Peregrine's CONN. "Please, Petty Officer," he laughs softly, "relieve Ensign P'Tammah and take the CONN, if you would."

"Aye aye, sir," Megan squeaks, apparently taking a completely vertical step before skipping across the distance between the hatchway and the helm.

At the same time and with a faintly bemused shake of his head, Zai crosses the short span of deck between the door and the command chair, currently occupied by Lt Berk. "If you don't mind an extra few minutes, Lieutenant," the Trill offered the new CTO as Megan similarly released Vaela from helm duties, "you stand relieved."

((OOC: Any reply, from a simple "Thank you, Lt" to a more involved conversation as you see fit, Brennus.
More posts in the works. Figured I'd go ahead and post these bits just to keep things moving.))

Stardate 2365.02.09 (Tuesday 42138.7)
USS Peregrine; Deck 1 - Bridge - 14:43
Aside from taking the chair ahead of schedule and the sight of Megan sitting at the CONN Lt Zai's command shift had started much like any other, with the minutiae of administration. The console at his right hand was awash with performance reviews requiring his attention, reports and briefs from various department heads, and, of course, the personnel file of one Petty Officer First Class Lauren Crane,

Ironic that we served as her advocate for the proceedings, he muses, but, as First Officer, it falls to us to update her service record.
,One finger hovers over the file's icon as the XO debates over whether to make the updates, now, just to get it out of the way, or, instead, set it aside for later in the shift. A stifled yawn escapes his lips in the form of a sigh, then, and his hand drifts away from the console to rub at his eyes.

"Mister Owen," he calls, leaning forward in the chair a bit.

"Sir?"

"Heading and velocity, please."

"On course fer the Gamera system, sir," the tiny woman grins over her shoulder, following a quick review of her console, "Heading; two-three-one mark seven-three at warp five. ETA thirty-three hours, twenty minutes."

"Very good," he nods, prepared to quiz her further,

=/\=Chief Cook to Captain Drake.=/\= The woman's tone is flat and serious.

,Tochi's gaze drifts away from Megan, toward the door to Drake's ready room, as he settles back in the chair, again, and taps at the console on his right, intercepting the nurse's hail. "Captain Drake is currently unavailable, Chief," he informs her, "Is there something we can do for you?"

=/\=Sir,=/\= there is a brief hesitation before the woman continues, =/\=I understand that PO Crane was sentenced to 3 days in the Brig on a bread and water restriction.=/\=

"She was," Zai replies simply. The Mast ended not fifteen minutes ago, he thinks, and, it would seem, details of Lauren's punishment have already made their way through the ship even before they have been properly recorded. We'll need to arrange a briefing to discuss tact and discretion, it seems.

=/\=Sir, per Starfleet Medical Regulation 927.6 any prisoner restricted to bread and water must have their medical condition established at the beginning of the confinement as well as after each 24 hours, and at their release,=/\= Dana pauses to take a breath, =/\=I request your permission to examine PO Crane now, and each 24 hrs while she is confined in the Brig and to certify her fitness prior to her return to due.=/\=

"We are aware of that regulation, Chief," Lt Zai replies, tapping the console, now, to open the file he'd hesitated over just moments ago,"and, the moment Mr Crane's files have been updated, per regulation, Medical will be provided access. However, as the Captain's Mast ended only twenty some odd minutes ago, those updates have yet to be processed. Might we ask, Chief Cook, precisely how you've come to be made aware of the results so quickly?"