Stardate: 2366.10.31
Ten Forward: 1245

“Oh Jack. That’s wonderful!!” Chantelle practically screamed at his news of being promoted to 2O.

The few people who were still having lunch stared in their direction. She didn’t notice.Reaching instinctively for his hands across the table, she asked teasingly,
“Did you just find out or have you been keeping it from me?”

Jack squirmed a bit at Chantelle’s outburst. He hadn’t expected such exuberance but was pleased she was happy for him even though he wasn’t quite sure how he himself was feeling about the situation.

“The Cap’n informed me of ‘is decision jus’ this mairnin’,” Jack said, his eyes glaring in the direction of a crewman who had dared look in their direction too long, “I dinnae know aboot et bein’ all tha’ won’erful, though.” He caught her hand in his and, as his gaze returned to her, gave it a gentle squeeze; “I get the feelin’ tha’ nudgin’ me up th’ chain as sech’s jus’ liable ta put Gavison an’ meself at each other’s throats all th’ more.” He traced along her slender finger with his thumb before releasing her hand and offering her a crooked grin.

“Speakin’ o’ th’ Gavisons,” he offered, trying to turn the subject away from his appointment to the 2O spot, “How’re ye gettin’ along wi’out yer aCSO? Have ye seen th’ bebeh, as yet?”

Chantelle's heart skipped a beat as Jack traced her finger with his thumb. His touch was electrifying even when done in such a casual manner. She smiled warmly at his touch
as he confessed he had doubts about the promotion. Her vibrant smile turned to concern. Frankly ,she was surprised he felt this way. She wasn't wholeheartedly buying his reasons... she felt there was something more to it. She wanted to press him on the matter but decided to wait until they had more time than a quick lunch. Instead, she simply said…
"Jack, I know you and Gavison don't see eye to eye on everything but you are both professionals I know you won't let your differences hinder your performance." She squeezed his hand lightly. “As for the baby” she continued “ I hear she is doing just fine. I haven't had time to see her yet, but plan to get by there sometime today. I don't suppose you'd like to accompany me would you?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

“I dinnae think so, luv,” he replied with a slow shake of his head, “Per’aps I’ll jus’ send th’ Commander a box o’ cigars an’ mebbe some flowers fer th’ missus er sommat. Et’d be jus’ me luck tha’, as soon’s I showed up, I’d run inta Doc Wash an’ he’d wanna jam some bloody pills doon me throat er th’ XO’d think I was jus’ poppin’ by tae recruit th’ wee pooper inta phaser maintenance,” his gray eyes sparkled, imagining what just such an encounter might entail. ” Ye jus’ give ‘em ol’ Jack’s regards when ye pop ‘round ta see ‘em, aye?”

He could see she was disappointed. His hand closed over hers once more, then released it again before picking up his mug and sipping away the remainder of the coffee he had ordered with lunch. “I reckon it’s ta be a long shift fer us t’night luv” he reminded her of the rendezvous with the Valmont and the dinner. “Boot I’d sure luv to tuck ye in afterwards” His gray eyes glinted mischievously.

She blushed and said "I'll be sure and convey your best wishes to the Gavisons” she winked as she rose, trying to gain her composure by ignoring his last comment.
She loved the way his gray eyes sparkled when he laughed..
She just wished he did it more often. "Well," she mused to herself, "I'll just make it my personal mission to give him something to smile aboot!"

With a seductive gleam in her eye, she stole a quick peck on his cheek and turned to take her leave. “I’ll see you on the bridge Lt MacTavish”

Stardate 2366.10.21 Lt. Zara's quarters.

Mali woke in a start that morning. She felt unprepared for something, but she wasn't sure what it was. After leaping out of bed, she checked her watch. Sure it was outdated, but she never felt complete without it. It read: 5:55am. She breathed. She went to her desk and shuffled some papers about, mostly starcharts. After a few minutes organization, she showered and sat on the bed in her towel, wringing the moisture out of her hair idly.

"The time is 6:25am and you requested to be awoken at this time. Lt. Zara please respond."

"I'm here," she replied. She stared at the floor, thinking about how long she'd been on this starship and had hardly gotten to know anyone. Sure, she wasn't here to make friends, but surely it couldn't hurt. Still, she had a sinking feeling in her stomach. I have so much I need to do. Anyone else might have thought those words a lie, but to Mali they were the only words she knew. She dressed and grabbed some breakfast, idly grabbing something edible from the mess hall and eating as slowly as possible to pass the time before her shift.

She stopped back by her room to brush her teeth and straighten her uniform before moving to the bridge. She felt ancy but knew she was still too early to rush to her shift. She relieved her subordinate 10 minutes before her 0800 shift and checked all of the numbers twice before sitting down.

Over the course of her shift she heard brief interjections of things like "change of roster" and "meeting at 1100 hours" and thought the course change might have a significant effect on it. Moreover, based on a reading of the ETA, she was going to be pulling a longer shift and probably not getting off until 1830 or later. She was glad of it. She always felt uncomfortable when her relief came.

As the end of her shift came and went, she focused on the course ahead, and nothing else. At 1650 she noticed another ship on her scanners. It was the Valmont.

“Commander,” Lt. Zara called back over her shoulder.

“Yes,” Avanti responded while Kel sat quietly with a smile on his face.

“We’ve just picked up the Valmont on long-range scanners.”

“Reduce speed to maximum impulse.”

“Yes, sir,” she carefully adjusted the speed, smiling.

At 1720 there was some uncomfortable shifting from the captain's seat as one person then another, then another took the seat. "Helm, how long until we rezvendous?"

Mali's hands flew across her display for a moment before she answered. "E.T.A. is fifty-two minutes, sir."

“Maintain course and speed, lieutenant.”

As the time approached, she watched the ship show up on her viewscreen and approached them carefully. MacTavish spoke, "Commander, they be hailin' us."

Avanti nodded. "Put them onscreen, please."

"Thank you, sir. Lieutenant MacTavish, you have the bridge." That was a shock, she'd never been under MacTavish's command before. She shrugged it off.

“Lt Zara,” he said, “bring us aboot an’ bring ‘er ta all stop.”

"Sir, yes sir." She gave him a full military response, hoping to help him feel more at home. If the change were of the higher-ups (as it appeared to be) he'd be spending more time in that chair, so he should get used to it.

After the rendevouz, about 1845, her relief came. He was a younger pilot, and a bit ancy himself. She kinda liked that about him. It made her more confident passing the seat to him. She had a dinner to attend to.

Re-entering her quarters, she took time to change carefully. She wouldn't stand for being treated like a girl amongst men. Dressing her best, she put on a dark blue pants-suit, carefully applying a bit of blush and skintoned eyeshadow to look professional, but not too feminine.

She arrived ten minutes early, at 2050 and took her seat, watching the others arrive with her back stiff, still focusing on a professional appearance. At 2055 the meeting started.

(I suppose that's it for now...)

USS Discovery, Bridge – 1820

=/\=Blair to MacTavish.=/\=

Jack’s eyes didn’t lift from the display mounted in the arm of the Captain’s chair; “MacTavish here.”

=/\=Jack, have helm lay in a course for Aldor V; warp factor five,=/\= the Captain ordered.

“Aye sair; Aldor V it is.”

=/\=Thank you, Lieutenant. Blair out.=/\=

Jack simply nodded as the communication ended, then turned his eyes to Lt Damali. He knew the bajoran had heard the Captain’s request and likely had the course plotted in and the warp engines ready to come online as soon as she got the official word. He offered the woman a fractional nod in reply to the expectant look she cast over her shoulder; “Make et happen, Lieutenant.”

“Sir, aye sir,” came the response, “Aldor V, Warp Five.”

“Thank ye, Zara,” Jack said as the Discovery eased into a final, impulse driven course correction before the warp core jumped online and punched the big Galaxy into hyperspace. The Scot hadn’t failed to notice Zara’s attempts at making him more comfortable in the Big Chair and calling her by her given name rather than rank and surname was his way of thanking her for that.

(OOC: any reply, or none, minor liberties taken with Zara, of course, will edit to suit if need be)

Aldor V, Jack mused after watching the streaking starscape on the main viewscreen for a moment, why’s tha’ sound so familiar, then? His fingers danced across the chair-embedded console and called up a link to the live TAC node. He searched the files for anything pertaining to Aldor V – or anything relatively close – but, other than the standard intel runs, there was nothing stored in the banks that jumped out at him. Scowling, he tapped his combadge; “MacTavish ta TOS.”

=/\=TAC support,=/\= replied a youngish, male voice, =/\=Soileau here. What can I do for you, Lt?”=/\=

“Ye c’n run Aldor V through the TAC/INTEL node an’ feed me whate’er pops out, Soileau.”

=/\=Roger that, Boss. Anything in particular you’re looking for?=/\=

If I bloody knew wha’ I was lookin’ fer, I’d’ve no’ called! MacTavish grumbled inwardly even though he knew that it was a valid question. “’Fraid no’, Ensign,” he answered, “Le’s jus’ say tha’ if th’ gov’ner’s as much as had a case o’ the sniffles inna past five months, I wanna know aboot it, aye?”

=/\=Acknowledged. Soileau out.=/\=

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ten Forward – 2055

MacTavish was oddly silent as the staff meet and greet got started and, aside from having provided responses when any conversation was directed at him, the TAC Officer’s attentions seemed to be far from the here and now. In fact, he had made it a point to avoid the area reserved for the Captain’s senior staff dinner since he had arrived in the lounge some fifteen minutes ago and had passed the time nursing a scotch and rather unenthusiastically tossing darts at the board on the far side of the room. Soileau hadn’t taken long gathering up information on Aldor V and among the files that had been contained in the data dump had been a secured file that referenced various extremist groups and terrorist cells known to operate in the vicinity. It was during his review of that file that Jack realized why the place sounded so familiar to him; on the list of “suspected agents” of the named organizations was one Ian MacTavish. The revelation had hit him like Rrowl in a ‘no-holds-barred’ sparring match and the thought that he might actually catch up with his errant, baby brother after all these years weighed on him as if the snarling kzinti had been standing on his chest.

Jack didn’t let his brooding overcome decorum, however, and when the senior staff started filtering in to the place, he did his best to leave his musings pinned to the dartboard and moved to take his seat at the Captain’s table. Jacandra made a pass around the table before everything got started and topped off his scotch as the remainder of the invited crew found their seats.

“Bless ye, lass,” he muttered as Captain Blair’s niece discreetly flashed the bottle’s label, letting the TAC officer know that she had remembered his preference for the “good stuff” and none of that “synth-pess.”

“You looked like you needed it,” she whispered before continuing on about her duties.

Once everyone was seated, captain Blair called for their attention. "Good evening, everyone, and thank you all for coming. I believe that you all know me," he grinned slightly at the odd chuckle around the table, "but this meal is of course for the benefit our new senior officers."

"First of all, allow me to introduce our new Chief Engineer. Everyone, please welcome Lieutenant Commander Katrina Waldgrave." Noah indicated the tall, attractive black-haired woman to his left.

Jack’s steel gray gaze lifted from the swirl of amber-hued scotch and slowly melting ice cubes in his glass as he followed Noah’s path of introductions, settling first on the new CEO. The woman’s dossier scrolled through his mind as he studied her just long enough to attach her face to her name. I hope th’ lass’s handy as she is pretty, he thought, et’s gonna be a fair stretch tryin’ ta fill Ly’s shoes.
"Also, we have a new Ship's Counselor. Allow me to introduce Lieutenant Christoph Arevaci." This time, focus went further down the table to the brown-haired man with pianist's hands.

Aye, Jack half grinned, unconsciously lifting his glass to his lips as the new Counselor was introduced, me new blinkin’ therapist. Grand! I won’er wha’ kinda insight this lad’s gonna ‘ave inta me noodle. He sat the glass back down on the table as the Captain veered from the intros of the new crewmembers and set about naming off those who remained.

When his own name was offered up, Jack offered a nod, as congenial a smile as he could manage, and meeting the gaze of each new arrival in turn, said; “Welcome aboard.” Again, his eyes followed the Captain’s introductions around the table but his mind wandered back to the thoughts that those files had sparked. He must have been letting the thoughts run away with him, though, because as Noah got to Chantelle and she offered up her nervously shy smile and hello, she caught Jack’s eye and cast a curious and concerned glance in his direction.

What’s bugging you, Jack, he could almost hear her asking the question, you seem…ummm… I don’t know… sad?
He replied to that unspoken query with a faint shake of his head and a reassuring grin, then, following another quick nip from his glass returned his attention to the Captain.

Blair retook his seat. "As you may know, we not only picked up new staff from the Valmont, but a doctor Joseph Milkens, as well. Doctor Milkens is carrying the supplies to manufacture a critically needed vaccine for Aldor V, to which we should arrive in a little less than four days. In theory, this is a simple delivery job; our task is merely to drop the good doctor and his materials off at the federation complex planetside. "

A knot suddenly tied itself deep in Jack’s gut and something that some might have called a sense of foreboding shot through him…Damn! How’d I know tha’ was comin’!... Something told him that this ‘simple delivery job’ was likely going to turn out to be not so simple after all. He flicked a glance at Gavison for some reason, then back to Blair as the captain paused and raised his glass.

“Enough shop talk for now,” he stated, “Let us properly welcome our new comrades with an excellent dinner…”

Jack didn’t feel much like eating for some reason. In fact, all he wanted right at the moment was to get these pleasantries out of the way, give Gavison the box of cigars he had promised Chantelle that he would, and go find Rrowl in order to ‘cut some of this tension loose’ and allow himself to ‘think clearly’.

“…and a toast.”

I’ll damn well drink ta tha’, Jack lifted his own glass, then.

“To the Discovery!” Noah saluted.

“To the Discovery,” Jack echoed in unison with many of the others at the table. As he shot the remainder of his scotch out of the glass and into his gullet Mac offered up a silent toast…prayer?.. An’ th’ Laird help Ian MacTavish if ‘e’s on Aldor V!...
He returned the glass to the table then and couldn’t help but glance across the table at Chantelle, again. She was looking at him over the rim of her own glass, that half-masked look of concern still playing on her delicate features. Jack tried the reassuring grin again but, even though someone else had already engaged her in conversation, he knew that he would be having this conversation with her before long.

Aye, an’ there’ll be no scrappin’ wi’ th’ Rug after dinner fer ye, either, Jack, m’boy… Rrowl would have had a better appreciation for Mac’s attitude tonight, of that there was no doubt in his mind, but there was also no way in hell that he would break a promise to Chan… and he had promised to tuck her in after dinner, hadn’t he?...

((OOC: Okay… that turned into a little more than I had planned but I’m digging it… Mac will at some point this evening hand off a box of cigars to Kel with a sincere “congratulations, sair” – feel free to run with this if you wish, Brom – and otherwise be ‘cordial’ until it’s appropriate to leave… Feel free to yak at him if you like… I think… ))

Stardate: 2366.10.21 USS Discovery
Renor looked at her aSEC as he called upon her,

“yes sir” she replied as if she’s said it all her life. She listened intently to what he was telling her. She made a mental note to remember where she will be staying. She risked a chance to look around the transport room then quickly turned back to Lt. Rowl as he asked her if she understood what she was to do,

“affirmative Lt.” she replied then slowly left the room after he dismissed her. As she made her way to deck three she looked at her surroundings, So this is discovery huh? she thought to herself. She walked onto deck three and was given her room number. She walked in and sat down on one of the beds and sighed, who’s this lieutenant Tuvar anyways she thought to herself. She took out a small picture and stared at it. Her blue eyes gazed over the man in the same uniform she found herself wearing. She sighed again and spoke softly to herself,

“what have I gotten myself into?” she asked herself knowing that she already knew the answer.

Sighing again she places the picture back in her bag and laid down staring up at the ceiling.. Awaiting tomorrow.


((I hope that's okay. as i get more into the game my posts will become more better and have more detail in them. ))

Stardate: 2366.10.21
USS Discovery, ten forward - 2110

Ensign Talda stepped into the dimly-lit lounge in search of a little diversion. He felt a bit restless; today had been a lab shift day, rather than one for the bridge. Even though he got more "real" work done in the labs, he missed the chance to man a station on the great vessel's command hub, despite the fact that his typical shift there fell into the classic "graveyard" period where next to nothing ever occured.

The downside to the split schedule was that his body often found itself awake when it should be asleep, and vice-versa. Tonight, though, he was wide wake and on the prowl...

...and all alone.
Gwen had long since tired of the novelty of a boyfriend with such lenient views on subjects like fidelity. Not that it surprised him; few in Starfleet were as casual as the Risans when it came to such matters. Still, he had genuinely felt serious emotion for the woman, and working with her had since become more than a little awkward. The string of casual affirs since that point had been entertaining diversions, but little more.

A good portion of ten forward was actually fairly empty. For a minute or two, Caleb despaired of finding anyone to chat with until he spotted a somewhat familiar face. The science officer ordered a tasty (but unpronounceable) purple drink and made his way to a table across the room.

He addressed the catullan alredy sitting there. "Lieutenant... Bob, isn't it?" Caleb didn't know the man that well, but had served with him on the planetside team at Gavin III. Hopefully, that would serve as an icebreaker.

OOC: some response

"Call me Caleb." He regarded the gathering of senior staff. "So, the brass are up to something tonight, eh? Didn't you get a new boss out of the Valmont meeting?"

OOC: assuming there's no "shove it, dude!"

Talda nodded, trying to figure out what exactly it was that N'doog had said. The young officer found his gaze drifting back to the staff dinner, despite his intentions to put it elsewhere.

"I want to be there someday..." he murmured, then looked up, a little ashamed at having stated his thoughts out loud. For some reason, though, the catullan put him at ease, so he continued. "Yeah. I feel it every time I step on the bridge. One day, I want to be in that circle."

OOC: any response

Caleb shook his head and grinned. "Tell you what - let me buy you a drink, Bob." He paused for moment. "Say, are you a gambling man? I hear that Lieutenant Ames in ops is scaring up a poker game later on..."

Stardate: 2366.10.21
USS Discovery, ten forward - 2055

"What’s bugging you," Jack, he could almost hear her asking the question, "you seem…ummm… I don’t know… sad?"

He replied to that unspoken query with a faint shake of his head and a reassuring grin, then, following another quick nip from his glass returned his attention to the Captain. Chantelle smiled slightly in return. Her instincts told her that something was gnawing away at her Jack and she was determined to find out what it was.
She hadn't seen him drink so much as she had tonight and judging from his demeanor, she was certain he had a few before he even got there. Her mind was racing, trying to figure out what was going on in that "Scottish noogin" of his. She couldn’t remember saying anything at their last meeting that would have put him in such a melancholy state, in fact, she thought their last interaction would have had him skipping around like a 5 year old waiting for a triple ice cream cone. She continued to study him as the Captain finished up his introductions.

“To the Discovery,” Jack echoed in unison with many of the others at the table, as he shot the remainder of his scotch out of the glass and into his gullet.
He couldn’t help but glance across the table at Chantelle again. She was looking at him over the rim of her own glass, that half-masked look of concern still playing on her delicate features. Jack tried the reassuring grin again but, even though someone else had already engaged her in conversation, he knew that he would be having this conversation with her before long.

Chantelle cast an apprehensive glance at Jack as she was pulled into a conversation. She was anxious for this dinner to be over so they could be alone and she could find what was wrong. She couldn't bear to see him so withdrawn. "I WILL get to the bottom of this" she promised herself…"if it takes me all night"

(Stardate: 2366.10.21, USS Discovery, Ten Forward, 2055 hours)


“To the Discovery,” said Ben, joining the chorus of his fellow officers. Thus far, Ben felt quite pleased by how everything had played out during the dinner. The two new officers seemed to be enjoying the opportunity to formulate firm camaraderie with their colleagues, especially over the marvelous meal, if he did say so himself, and, for some, a few “hard” drinks.

To Ben’s surprise he recognized Waldgrave from Starfleet Academy. She graduated at the end of his second year. He was a bit surprised that he hadn’t connected the dots sooner—it wasn’t as if he hadn’t read through her Personnel file earlier that day. He cut himself a little slack, though, as he had had others things on his mind. It was a bit ironic, however, since she had caught his eye on his first day at the Academy. A freshman crush…

“Commander Waldgrave,” said Lt. Raines said after a spell. “I noticed in your file that you graduated from the Academy back in ’58. I’m class of ’61. I remember your Senior Engineering Project was amazing.” He smiled and poured himself another drink.

=OFF=

Chantelle made her obligatory rounds and welcomed each new person with a warm smile.
She found her conversation with the new Doctor very interesting as it had led to a discussion of the vaccine he was working on. She had found out that though it seemed promising it showed some inherent flaws that could have serious side affects on certain molecular structures. She suggested to him to work with their Xenobotany Lab to isolate the exact substance in the plant extracts the vaccine was derived from that was causing the reactions. “Our Xenobotany staff is the best in Starfleet” she had bragged.
She wasn’t exaggerating either. She was sure with the help of the talented group in XB they would come up with an answer to the problem. She continued…”I’ll alert our Lab that you will be performing some test sets. They will be more than eager to help in any way they can.”

((The doctor thanks her for her interest.))

“You’re more than welcome” she said as she watched Jack reach for yet another glass. “If you’ll excuse me” she said as she slipped away to intercept his next round of drinks. She had never seen him quite this wasted and was sure it couldn’t turn out good.

She made it to his side just as he swigged it down. “Jack, what are you doing?” she asked frantically. “Is everything , are you alright?”

TAG: go for it Eol

Ten Forward – 2113

MacTavish swept his gaze around the table again watching the others enjoy their meals and engage in the idle chit-chat that often accompanied such events. Raines apparently had found something in common with LtCdr Waldgrave, remembering her from the Academy days from the sounds of it, and had engaged the woman in conversation already. A faint grin tugged at the corners of Jack’s mouth as he abandoned his observation of the Ops Chief and the new CEO… Bloody Raines’s slicker’n snot on a doorknob, he thought as he half-heartedly poked at the food on his plate, I’ve ne’er seen an Ops guy manage the wairkload he does an’ still come up wi’ witty banter after a dooble-shift. Tha’ lad’ll be commandin’ his own boat someday, I’ll wager…heh… mebbe he’d’ve been a better choice fer two-oh! He set the fork aside, deciding that his appetite for food had long since passed and reached for his glass, his gaze shifting from Ben to the Captain and Commander Gavison. As he lifted the glass to his lips, he found himself wondering it would be wise to inform the two men of the feeling in his gut and recommend putting some tactical and security protocols in place. He almost choked as the thought came close to inspiring a chuckle and the sip of scotch caught in his throat.

Aye, the TACman laughed to himself as he swallowed hard to keep the drink from backtracking and shooting from his nose , I c’n ‘ear Gavison’s bowels loosnin’ ta shyte onnat a’ready an’ I’ve only so much’s entertained th’ fool notion!... His gaze dropped to the once again empty scotch glass and he sat there, for a long moment, smirking at the glistening ice cubes as he ran through the litany of wordy reasons that the XO would recite in order to ke-bosh whatever recommendations Jack might make. Besides, ye go’ nothin’ but a few repairts aboot recent extremist activity inna area an’ a suspected agents list wi’ yer beebeh brother’s name on et! Wha’d ye expect ‘im ta do… turn cartwheels? He heaved a sigh, a little heavier than he had intended, as he leaned back in his chair and let that thought go for the time being. Jack would just keep all of that close to the vest for now and, if anything came of it in the next thirty-six hours, he would make his recommendations then… when there’s a wee bit more’n me knowin’ Ian as I do…
His eyes ticked back to the other side of the table and found Chan still talking, rather enthusiastically, to the visiting Doc. Aboot wairk, more’n likely, he smiled faintly as his gaze traveled on in search of Jacandra. She should be making the rounds again soon and he’d have another drink to keep his thoughts in line. The young Betazed was standing at the bar and, whether by chance or because she had managed to catch his thoughts, she looked up to meet MacTavish’s eyes. As she finished up her conversation with a blue-suited Ensign, she offered Jack a bright smile and a faint nod as she reached for the bottle of Glenlivet. Bless ye, lass.
While he was waiting – and seeing as Gavison was presently unoccupied with much more than eating – Jack decided that it was as good a time as any to deliver the congratulatory box of cheroots to the XO. He reached under his seat and retrieved the cherry-wood box that he had stashed there when he arrived earlier and, steeling his resolve, pushed away from the table so that he wouldn’t have to reach across anyone else’s plate to hand off the humidor. He slid out of his seat, straightened his jacket, and with the box of stogies tucked under one arm, paced off the length of the table until he stood within arms reach of the XO.

“Beg yer pardon, Command… er.. Kel,” he said. No harm in at least tryin’ th’ man’s name, aye?
(OOC: any reply, blank look, etc… assuming anything other than pess off sheepshagger)

Mac did his best to form a friendly smile on his lips… and for some reason, found himself unable to figure out what words should come next. “Well, sair,” he finally managed, “I realize tha’ there be a… a difference in our ways o’ doin’ things, sair, but all tha’ aside, I dinnae wan’ ye ta think ol’ Jack’s a complete bastard, aye?”

Ach, but tha’ was fargin’ charmin’ wannit? Where are ye when I need a bloody mouthpiece, Jeffrey? “So,” the Scotsman continued, tugging the box of cigars from between his elbow and ribcage and offering them to Gavison, “I jus’ wan’ed ta extend me congratulations to ye an yer missus onna new addition ta th’ family.”

(response… actual conversation… punch in the eye and “stay away from my family, zipperhead!”?... replies as necessary… assuming all goes “okay”)

“Aye, yer proud an’ wi’ good reason, I’m sure. Extend me congratulations ta the missus, aye?” Of course, Jack didn’t mention that he’d made arrangements to have some flowers delivered to the XOs wife earlier in the evening, he simply left it with congratulating the commander and left it at that. He was anxious enough to have this over with…

Tha’ could’ve gone wairse, I reckon, he mused as he took his leave of Gavison and returned to his own seat. An’ will ye lookit tha’! Jac’s gone and refilled me drink whilst I was away! Brilliant! I could use a drink ta keep me from pukin’! He tossed a great mouthful of the scotch back in one quick motion, swirled the remainder with the ice cubes for an instant and then killed the rest of the liquor.

“Jack, what are you doing,” Chantelle’s voice hadn’t surprised him, he had seen her say her good-byes to the Doc and make her way around the table, but the tone of her voice and the next question caught him off guard. “Is everything… are you alright?”

He looked up at her, blinked once to dispel the rather confused expression that he was sure had just passed over his features, and offered her a crooked grin. “Jus’ fine, Chan,” he returned, “jus’ havin’ a drink an’ puttin’ names ta faces. Ever’thin’s right as rain, aye?” He looked into the empty glass for a moment, knowing that she wasn’t going to settle for that answer; “Ever’thin’ a’right wi’ ye, lass?”

(OOC: Volley to you LysKhala… here we go… )

Stardate: 2366.10.21
USS Discovery, ten forward – 2110
Bob entered the area of the ship called ten- forward. This was usually a happening place, low keyed but still with the groove. Tonight, that wasn’t it. A good portion of ten forward was actually fairly empty, however there was a section roped off to the side – a senior officer shindig! He smiled as he saw the Jackdude with the Sci-tie Hemlos. Chief triggerpuller could use some R&R. Bob made a mental note that he needed to have a dude to dude with the Commanderdude.

Bob walked over to the bar. Of course, with the “do” happening, Jacandra wasn’t at the bar. One of the other bartenders was holding the shop, a black skinned human with a handle bar moustache. Lt. N’Doug nodded at him, “Hey Issacdude! You got the COMM tonight.” He said holding his fist towards the man.

Issac touched his fist to Bob’s “What it is Bob!” he said, a bit awkwardly but Bob could appreciate the effort, “ Yes a dinner party for the new officers. What can I get you?”

“Give me a Bambozzle, dude.”

“You got it.” Issac did his magic behind the bar, accessing the computer to direct the replicators was something anyone could do, but Issac mixed drinks the old way, pouring and measuring liquids together and serving with a flourish a tall red coloured drink with ice and lots of fruit pieces within, “One Issac special Bambozzle.”

“Whoa! Awesome Dude.” He sipped it gently, ‘Dude, no one does it better!”

Issac smiled that big smile of his, “Thanks Lieutenant. Cheers.”

Bob took his drink and moved over to an empty table. Before long, another person entered the bar. A Sci-tie by the uniform, Bob was sure that he was one of the crewmembers that had been on that Gavin mission. The science officer ordered a tasty purple drink and made his way to Bob’s table across the room.

"Lieutenant... Bob, isn't it?"

“First try, on the fly, nothing on the side. Please to make yours. We rubbed noodles on the Gavin III headache. You got mine, but you have me in the dust dude.”

"Call me Caleb."

“Risan dude?”

“Yeah. How did you …”

“It’s the strut, dude. You got the strut.”

Caleb nodded and laughed, he was regarded the gathering of senior staff. "So, the brass are up to something tonight, eh? Didn't you get a new boss out of the Valmont meeting?"

”Absolutmondo dude. She’s over there now but I’ll grease her palms soon enough. Pretty hot and tasty by the flyby, and I won’t be straining the neck. Course, Sango was the same except you never knew where to look cause she probably expected you to look, yet it isn’t polite to look, but if you looked, you couldn’t stop looking so you learned to look at anything else – which looked silly.

Caleb nodded, trying to figure out what exactly it was that N'doog had said. The young officer found his gaze drifting back to the staff dinner, despite his intentions to put it elsewhere.

"I want to be there someday..." he murmured, then looked up, a little ashamed at having stated his thoughts out loud. For some reason, though, the catullan put him at ease, so he continued. "Yeah. I feel it every time I step on the bridge. One day, I want to be in that circle."

”Hey bro! It’s good to know where’s your go, dig? That’s good. Many people go with the flow but don’t row. You’ll be there dude. Me, not my scene but I respect the commanderdudes. It ain’t easy doing the whole Bee act. But someone has to do the work.”

Caleb shook his head and grinned. "Tell you what - let me buy you a drink, Bob." He paused for moment. "Say, are you a gambling man? I hear that Lieutenant Ames in ops is scaring up a poker game later on..."

Bob smiled, “Righteous dude. I’m not usually into the mentally challenged taxation, but I could get into some festiveness. I’m doing the Bambozzle, and it is getting to the done. Say, you ever try skateboarding?"

Chantelle looked around the room quickly before turning her gaze back to Jack.

“I’m fine” she said in a hushed tone. “I’m not so sure about you”

Jack leaned in and whispered in her ear “I tol ye luv, I’m a’right. Tha only thing wrong with me is I’m not in yer bed yet”

“Jack, please” she started.

He laughed out loud and took her elbow to move her away from the crowd.

“Please?” he said mockingly. “Aye luv, ye don hafta to beg…” he smiled that crooked smile and her heart melted. He had successfully maneuvered her out of earshot of the others and took advantage of the position. He nuzzled her ear briefly and she allowed herself this momentary pleasure.

“Oh Jack”, she said softly, “You’ve been drinking and this, this isn’t the place for…”

He leaned in further and pressed against her slim frame. “fer wha luv?” He smiled wickedly and looked around the room. No one had noticed they had retreated from the crowd. “If it would make ye feel better, les get oota' 'ere and go to yer place so I can do this proper”

Chantelle’s heart raced…how he affected her. How could she be upset with him and how in the world could she say “no” tonight…and did she really want to.

“alright Jack” she said breathlessly and pushed reluctantly past him as she straightened her tunic. “lets get out of here”

Stardate: 2366.10.21
USS Valmont, Lt. Arevaci's private quarters – 1730

Christoph Arevaci sat quietly in his quarters waiting for the transfer to the Discovery, with all of his personal belongings were neatly packed in the largish duffel bag at his feet. Having grown up on a series of deep-space vessels with frequent transfers, he had developed little attachment to most material goods, since he had never been allowed to keep them for long anyway. Aside from a very few personal belongings, much of the bag was filled with clothing, mostly Starfleet issue. As the strains of sift music drifted through the speakers, Christoph was filled with a sudden longing – the old familiar call of space even deeper. He casually kicked the bag across the room in the general direction of the door. It mattered not how he treated – the one possession for which he held any concern was already cradles in his arms.

The lap harp had been a gift from a woman whose name he could no longer recall, but whose flashing eyes he would never forget. Even after nineteen years, he still heard her voice in his mind with perfect clarity... “I won't ask you to stay, Chris. It would be like asking an eagle to sit in a cage. I know the stars call you more strongly than I ever could, and it would be a cruel thing to try to keep you from them. Take this, my eagle, and when you reach the farthest star in space, look back towards old Earth, and play a song for me...”

He hadn't known how to play a single note then, but Christoph had always been a romantic at heart, and was determined to teach himself. In those first months, he had made great strides, but as the time and distance between them widened, he found that he had less and less time to dedicate to the practice. After joining Starfleet, it had almost disappeared... Now, however, he was a relatively high-ranking officer, and with the freedom that entailed, despite the greater responsibilities, he decided that he would take it up again.

Haltingly at first, and with more misplayed notes than he would have liked to admit, Christoph began to play. Within ten minutes, he found that his fingers remembered better than his mind, and simply let the music come as it would – eyes closed, he drew soft tones from the instrument, the sounds leading his mind to the farthest reached of space, and into the dim reaches of memory.


=^= Lieutenant Arevaci, it is time for departure. =^=

The computer broke into his musings with a jolt... Three quarters of an hour gone in the space of a song. Carefully placing the lap harp into its case, Christoph picked up his bag and strode out of his quarters without a second glance. The place had never really been home to him – home was a place deep among the stars.

The transfer was to be done by transporter, as were most in Starfleet. Arevaci was never entirely comfortable with the process, but he had grown resigned to it over the years. The momently break in continuity made him feel very vulnerable at the moment of arrival; he always recovered quickly, but it never really went away, the feeling that anything could happen in that one instant, and there was noway to anticipate or react to it.

"Commander Waldgrave, Lieutenant Arevaci, Doctor Milkens. I am Captain Blair, this is my executive officer, Commander Gavison. Welcome aboard the USS Discovery."

The captain gestured to a gold-clad petty officer. "Please show the doctor to his quarters." Upon receiving an affirmative, he looked back at the old man. "Doctor, We will be underway presently. My science staff will see to it that your materials are properly taken care of. We should reach our destination in four days time."

Once the doctor had left, Blair fixed his gaze on the counselor. "Mister Arevaci, please check in with Doctor White, our chief medical officer. When your schedule permits, drop by my ready room."

Commander Gavison cleared his throat, “And you are both required to dine with the senior staff at twenty-one hundred hours in the officer’s mess. Welcome aboard.”

“Aye, sir,” Arevaci saluted smartly and exited, quickly making his way to his new private quarters (with computer assistance – even an old spacefarer like Christoph needed directions on a boat this size on the first day). Within minutes, his clothing was unpacked and hanging, his few personal possessions arranged in a more or less aesthetically pleasing arrangement about the room, and the lap harp was carefully placed in an honored space: under the bunk.

Inquiring of the computer the location of Doctor White, Arevaci made his way there immediately. No sense in developing a reputation of ignoring the captain's instructions this early in his tenure – time enough for that later if the man, like many captains, thought he knew more of the councilor's craft than Arevaci. By reputation, Captain Blair was a man who listened to and trusted the word of his officers, but Christoph knew better than most what a reputation was worth once the shooting started in earnest, so to speak.

The doctor was waiting for him outside of the bridge, “Doctor White? I'm Lieutenant Arevaci; the captain instructed me to check in with you...”

“Ah, Doctor Arevaci,” the man in white extended a hand in greeting. “I'm Doctor White, Vic to my friends. I look forward to working with you. I'll let you get to what you need doing, we'll talk business tomorrow. Please, come down to Sick Bay in the morning whenever you're awake.”

Mildly taken aback at being addressed as “Doctor Arevaci,” Christoph merely nodded, “in the morning, then, Doctor.” Arevaci sensed nothing but goodwill from the man, and he seemed to be genuinely desirous of building an amicable working relationship, at least inasmuch as anything could be ascertained from such a short meeting...




Ten Forward – 2055

After spending a few hours reviewing files on the ship, her missions, and the men and women he would be serving with – mildly surprised to note the presence of a Catullan among the crew and outright astonished yet again to see a Kzin aboard a Federation vessel, Arevaci made a mental note to speak with the more exotic members of the crew at the earliest opportunity to get a feel for their mental and emotional states as well as their unique outlooks so that there would be fewer surprises later on.

He then made his way to the dinner he was required to attend at the captain's bequest. Arriving early, as usual, in order to observe the other officers as much as possible, he made a mental note that all of them arrived ten or fifteen minutes – or more – early, and none seemed to think this unusual, but rather the standard. It seemed that Captain Blair ran as tight a ship as the files seemed to indicate. More to the point, none of the officers gave any indication of begrudging him this. In fact, as far as Christoph could tell, there was nothing but respect directed towards the captain. Very interesting. Hard discipline, and they loved him for it. Either he was a model of what a captain should be or a master manipulator... although a strong case could be made for a fair bit of overlap between the two.

Once everyone was seated, captain Blair called for their attention. "Good evening, everyone, and thank you all for coming. I believe that you all know me," he grinned slightly at the odd chuckle around the table, "but this meal is of course for the benefit our new senior officers."

"First of all, allow me to introduce our new Chief Engineer. Everyone, please welcome Lieutenant Commander Katrina Waldgrave." Noah indicated the tall, attractive black-haired woman to his left.

Christoph looked at the woman, and nodded to himself. A stressful and exacting job like that attracted a certain type of person. A person who stayed with it and tracked it this high was almost guaranteed to be most interesting... Although Arevaci was honest enough with himself to know that more than a little of his desire to speak with her grew from the fact that she was a strikingly lovely woman, very much within his own specific tastes in that regard. Careful to keep that separate, Chris, he reminded himself.

"Also, we have a new Ship's Counselor. Allow me to introduce Lieutenant Christoph Arevaci." This time, focus went further down the table to the brown-haired man with pianist's hands.

He nodded and gave a small smile around the table.

"Now then," Noah continued, "I believe that you both met Commander Gavison, my XO. Next we have Lieutenant Jack MacTavish, our Chief Tactical Officer and Second Officer. Next to him is Lieutenant Tuvar, our Chief Security Officer."

Like many TAC officers, MacTavish seemed to be under a fair bit of stress, and was obviously worried over something... Perhaps it was something specific, but Christoph got the distinct impression that he wasn't particularly wanted company there. Definitely a man to get to know, but one must tread carefully, lest more harm than good be done.

Tuvar was an intriguing personality – perhaps moreso than any other at the table. Clearly Vulcan-blooded, she nonetheless displayed a clear array of emotions appropriate to the situation at hand. What interesting insights she might have into the hearts and minds of sentient beings would likely be the source of much thought in the months to come...

Noah paused, then went to the other side of the table, where he indicated a lieutenant commander in medical blue. "Doctor Victor White is our Chief Medical Officer and acting Third Officer. Lieutenant Raines in our Chief Operations Officer, and the man responsible for the wonderful meal we will soon enjoy." Polite chuckles around the table.

Arevaci nodded to the doctor, politely indicating that they had indeed met before and that it was not an unpleasant experience with the simple gesture. Still, there was something there the Christoph could quite nail down...
Raines appeared to be a man quite happy with his current lot in life, and that was always a good sign in Christoph's opinion, but he made a mental note to track the man down and talk to him soon anyway. An unexpected crash could be disastrous to the man's emotional stability.


The female lieutenant in blue was next. "Next, we have Lieutenant Chantelle Hemlos, our Chief Science Officer. Finally," he indicated the bajoran woman in red, "Is Lieutenant Damali Zara, our Chief Helm Officer."

Science officers, like most highly technical professionals, often seem to be only half present when not at their profession of choice. Constantly having a section of your mind tuned to a specific channel was something Christoph Arevaci was uniquely suited to understand, but unlike this Lt. Hemlos, his channel included almost all of social interaction. It would be both very easy and at the same time very difficult to create a rapport, he expected.

Bajorans, he had little experience with, and wasn't quite sure how to read the Chief Helm Officer. Nothing screamed at him of obvious issues needing immediate attention, but nonetheless, he made a mental note to talk to her early and often until he could get a feel for how her mind and emotional processes worked.

Blair retook his seat. "As you may know, we not only picked up new staff from the Valmont, but a doctor Joseph Milkens, as well. Doctor Milkens is carrying the supplies to manufacture a critically needed vaccine for Aldor V, to which we should arrive in a little less than four days. In theory, this is a simple delivery job; our task is merely to drop the good doctor and his materials off at the federation complex panetside. "

The captain paused and raised his glass. "Enough shop talk for now. Let us properly welcome our new comrades with an excellent dinner and a toast. To the Discovery!"

Raising his glass high, Christoph, added his voice to the rest with feeling, if double meaning. “To Discovery!”

-Xenobotany Lab, 0615,hrs-

She had been roused fairly early that morning with new orders. This was something so serious she was surprised for a moment that she was being trusted with it, then she remembered why, her team was very good, and her team had the last plants Starfleet owned of this particular species necessary to help in creating a vital medicine. She had been contacted both by the CMO and the Captain on this and she promised to help in any way possible.

(OOC: If anyone wants to add to this from the command or medical standpoint feel free. I'm winging things here.)

Natalie looked around the small table at her team. There was Lt (jg) Leanna Yates, Ensign Roger Whitetail, Ensign Rouwdy Urteb, and Ensign Giselle Koudberg. They often worked in the same laboratory but in parallell on differing stages of similar projects but each in their own world. Today Lt.(jg) Natalie Keely needed them together for something more cohesive than their normal plant studies.

The table was set toward the back corner of the lab, an area separated from the main lab by a clear dividing wall, where members of the Xenobotany team usually took their breaks in shifts. They rarely needed meetings as, Keely despised public speaking and usually preferred to pass orders and new project directives along through padds and comm channels. She waited for her team to assemble and quiet down on their own. She was at a loss for how to get controll of the situation if they did not do so soon. But, As she stood before the table, those sitting soon finished their side-conversations and looked up at her with mild curiosity on their faces.

Natalie pushed her nerves aside and began, "You're all probably wondering why I've called a meeting this morning. It's not our usual way to do things, I know." she cleared her throat, working through the nervousness of being aware of four pairs of eyes upon her. She took a moment to stare at the starfield out of the window and then continued, "We have been requested to undergo an assignment that only our expertise can assist with. Everyone here has heard the news reports of the plague on Rautos Prime, I'm sure." an empathetic nodd went around the table.

"Yes, it's horrible. At the rate the disease is going it could wipe out the entire Rautian race within a couple of years. But, we have a chance to attept to stop this disease cold. There has been a connection made between those who have survived the plague and the rare Mntiasha trees in the mountain towns around those survivor's homes. We have the last Starfleet owned samples of these plants and the government of Rautos Prime will not let anyone else remove more of them from their world in case it is their only hope for survival. The Biology and Medical teams need us and our skills with rare Mntiasha trees to do a protien extraction of the most delicate sections of the Mntiasha roots, in order to help them to create a new antibody only, thus far, theorized in medical thesis. They have tried and failed on their own several times, and we all know how rare a plant the Mntiasha is. We cannot let them kill more of them than absolutely necessary in the quest for an antibody against Rautian Plague. We have more skills, better knowledge of the plants and better tools for this job, than even Starfleet Medical at this point, and more importantly, we have the last four Mntiasha trees in Starfleet's custody. If we could possibly create even one vial of antibody that works, it could be replicated and shipped to Rautos Prime and we could save their race from extinction." finished Natalie to gasps of awe and wonder from everyone at the table.

She could see they now understood how important this was. For once they were not just the plant geeks, they were necessary to saving an entire race of people. The enormity of it was daunting and humbling. "You each have new orders on your padds and at your work stations. This project takes top priority over all else unless I say otherwise. Normally, we work fairly self-contained but for this I want teamwork and open communication. Don't make a move if you aren't sure of something, ask for feedback, we all will." she felt her confidence grow as she spoke. When it came to xenobotany, Natalie knew she and her team were the best. "Ok, let's get to work. Dismissed."

(OOC: I hope that was ok, doc. I'll edit if it doedn't fit what you were thinking of.)

Ten Forward – 2120 hours

Chantelle quickly glanced around the room as Jack deftly turned her query back on her and he took the opportunity to formulate a plan. The woman had picked up on the fact that something other than the every day routine was bugging him and, as he had come to expect of her over the past few months, Jack knew that Chan wasn’t liable to let him get away with out-maneuvering her. This is no’ th’ place fer et, though, he sighed inwardly.

“I’m fine,” she said softly as her azure eyes turned back to him, “I’m not so sure about you.”

He had already extricated himself from his seat at taken a few strategic steps away from the table. There was no need for the rest of the senior staff to hear any of this. Chan, for her part, shadowed him across the floor and, when they reached what Jack considered to be a safe distance he leaned in and whispered; “I tol’ ye, luv, I’m a’right. Th’ only thing wrong wi’ me is tha’ I’m no’ yet in yer bed.”

“Jack, please,” she started.

He couldn’t help but laugh at that and, taking her gently by the elbow, he guided her a bit farther from the crowd. “Please,” he chuckled teasingly after having successfully maneuvered her out of earshot of the others, “Ach, luv, ye dinnae hafta beg.” He smiled that crooked smile of his, pulled her just a little closer, and nuzzled her ear for a moment.

He heard a soft sigh escape her lips at that and, for a moment, thought that she might have let go of whatever concerns she may have had. “Oh Jack,” she cooed, starting to melt against him but not quite letting herself succumb completely to the play, “You’ve been drinking and this…this isn’t the place for…”

No, luv, he agreed, et’s no’…Jack leaned in further and pressed against her. “Fer wha’, luv,” he whispered as a wicked smile spread across his features and he cast a quick glance about the place. It didn’t appear that anyone had noticed them slip away, as yet. “If et would make ye feel better,” he continued, his voice a low purr, “as soon’s possible, we c’n get oota here an’ go ta yer place so I c’n do this thing proper.”

He was sure he felt her heart pick up its tempo, then, and a somewhat blissful gasp escaped her lips. “Wha' say ye, lass,” he grinned, gingerly tracing his fingers along the delicate line of her jaw as he even allowed himself to get lost in the moment. Do ye realize what yer sayin’, lad? Are ye ready fer sech a theng?
“Alright, Jack,” she said breathlessly as she reluctantly pushed past him, nervously tugging at her tunic, and started to make her way back to the table, “let’s… let’s make it soon, okay?”

He nodded; “Aye, lass. Soon,” he promised, smiling as he watched her retreat, just a little flustered, to the company of the senior staff again, “vera soon.” His grin broadened a bit as her cheeks flushed at that last comment.

Point, MacTavish, he sighed, feeling just a little bit bad about having distracted her from her original intent but also a little better at not having to have that conversation with her here. “Chan,” he called before she got much farther away…

She glanced back over her shoulder, an inquisitive look on her pink-tinged porcelain features.

“I luv ye, lass,” he said, offering a smile that was as much a thank you to her for relenting as it was an expression of the sentiment he had just uttered.

The blush that had started to fade from her cheeks bloomed full and bright again and she offered him that sheepish smile that he found irresistible before forcing herself to finish the trip to the dinner table…

((OOC: Modified the dialog just a little, Fuby… dinner’s kind of just gotten started and it probably wouldn’t be well received if Mac and Chan ducked out, right away… cool?... Onward!))

Stardate 2366.10.21 Ten Forward

Zara carefully placed herself at the far end of the table. She knew that most of these officer types spent more time on paperwork than doing the jobs their crew did. She was the exception to the rule, and the only one dressed in red. She smiled at the others as they collected and seated themselves, wringing her hands.

She sat through the introductions, nodding as her name was noted last. Everyone seemed to mingle afterward. Mali felt sick to her stomach. She sat, staring at her glass of water until the toast. "To the Discovery" she mumbled and took a swig of her water. She stared at the others about the table engaged in conversations and flirtation, unsure of how to join in. She sat quietly through the meal, unapproached, smiling briefly when someone glanced in her direction. Well, she thought, generally poeple meet at bars right. As she finished eating, she stood and walked over to the bar, on the other side of the red rope. She stepped up to the bartender. "I'll have a...um..." She thought for a second, "surprise me." she smiled, knowing it wouldn't take much to surprise someone who hadn't set foot in front of a bar before.

He handed her something with a cherry on a toothpick in it and smiled. "Something pink for the lady." he grinned. She smiled back and sat on the stool, slipping at first. Regaining her balance she sipped at the glass and winced. Why would anyone drink this stuff? she shuddered and looked about the room, this side largely empty aside from one table with that guy who talks funny at it.

She tried to remember his name. "Something dood." she chuckled.

"Sorry, need something?" The bartender stepped back, cleaning a glass idly.

Mali's eyes widened. "Nothing," she blinked briefly. Whoops. she thought, taking another sip of her glass, not wincing so much this time.