"First Mission"
Captain Lea Adele Chevalier, Commanding Officer
Lt. Cmdr. Greggory Griffith, First Officer
Lt. Korn Zaje, Chief Tactical Officer
Lt. Cmdr. Shirik Lektar, Chief Ops Officer
Lt. Cmdr. Raikon Achaea, Chief Engineer
Lt. Cerys Rowan, Chief Science Officer
Crewman 1st Class Dagh bim Braffin, Pilot
Lt. T'Lol, Chief Flight Control Officer
Lt. Iryna Nakhimova, Asst. Chief Flight Control Officer
(Other characters as needed)
Stardate: 58807.14, 08h00
Location: Bridge, USS Vanguard
***
Alpha Shift had just begun the morning after arrival at Alpha Centauri. The ship had arrived at 0300 and the Gamma shift crews had begun offloading cargo.
As Shirik took her position at Ops she went about checking on the ship's status and the cargo unloading progress. "Captain, the cargo teams report they're almost done offloading. Two Flight Control Officers should be coming on board as well."
Cerys glanced up from the science station with a faint, curious smile.
"Do we actually know what we've been hauling around all this time, or is it one of those things I'm better off not asking about?" She tilted her head slightly. "And has anyone heard when we're getting a mission briefing? Alpha Centauri is far too interesting a place to arrive without at least a little mystery attached."
"I did offer the full manifest to those who needed it," Shirik points out. "It was nothing out of the ordinary, equipment and materials for the University and its labs, and replacement parts for the colony infrastructure."
The turbolift doors swooshed open to unload the red-clad Tellarite. Even by Tellarite standards his eye bags were sunken, as if his eyes were hiding in the caverns of wrinkled skin. Braffin sat down at his station with a barely concealed yawn, taking a moment to blink in the marble on the viewscreen.
"Wonder what these flight controllers are gonna be like." He had shown a habit of doing that over the past few days: thinking aloud. Thankfully nothing rude came out this time. "Hopefully not like that weasel on the Firesword," he grumbled a moment later. Well, nothing too rude...
Shirik raised an eyebrow at the sleepy Tellarite arriving late for his shift. She expected Griffin may have words with him about it. Luckily for him, she was not his boss.
Raikon sat at his duty station, tapping away a report on the ships first endurance warp 6 run while keeping a eye on the live readings.
Nothing exciting is happening at the moment as they were in orbit around the planet.
Greggory walked onto the bridge, looking around at those coming on shift and those waiting for their relief. He nodded to the person sitting in the command chair, relieving them and taking over until the captain arrived. On his way over to his seat, he made eye contact with Shirik, giving her a faint smile.
"How'd the ship do on her first prolonged run, Cmdr Achaea?" he asked, looking towards that end of the bridge.
Shirik met Greggory's gaze when he entered the bridge, acknowledging his faint smile with a small nod of her head before turning her attention back to her console.
Stopping mid sentence in his report Raikon turned towards the XO.
"We had to do some tweaking along the way, minor adjustment nothing to worry about. Something to be expected after a major refit."
Turning back to his console he continued filling in his report. "You'll have my report within the hour Sir."
Regarding the full manifest of items the Vanguard had been transporting, Iryna answered Commander Lektar seated to her left without looking up from her console.
"Da, da. Lots of tings. Big tings. Smoll tings."
The words came out absently, almost automatic. A moment later a yawn escaped her before she could stop it. She tapped at the flight controls with no real urgency, just enough to confirm the attitude control thrusters were still holding Vanguard steady in position.
The soft hiss of the turbolift drew her attention. Crewman Dagh stepped onto the bridge—her Tellarite counterpart in the flight control department.
"No. Not like furry leetle veasel," she replied in a flat, deadpan tone, her thick Russo-Ukrainian accent blurring the edges of the words until they nearly ran together. She spun the chair just far enough to give him a brief nod of acknowledgment. The gesture was polite enough, but the heavy blink that followed made the sleep deprivation obvious.
Gamma shift—her first aboard Vanguard since transferring from one of the Alpha Centauri outposts—had been long and relentlessly dull. A handful of minor course corrections. A few adjustments to the reaction control thrusters. Mostly just reading through the endless engine-maintenance reports. The quiet had drained what little energy she had left.
Mercifully, it was almost over. Lieutenant T'lol would be along any minute to relieve her.
Then the turbolift opened again and Commander Griffith stepped onto the bridge.
Iryna's hazel eyes flicked toward him for a quick, appraising glance. A second later she spun back to face her console, suddenly very busy with the controls, determined not to give him any reason to comment on her wandering attention.
"Good morneeng, Comandeer." she said over her shoulder to the moderately-tall XO.
A beep sounded on Shirik's console. "Commander, there's an incoming message from Admiral Calloway at Starfleet Command. He wants to speak to you." She looked mildly surprised and looked up to see how Griffith wanted the call handled.
"Glad to hear she's holding up, Commander. I'll be eager to read the full report." He warmly nodded at Raikon as he turned back to the Engineering console.
As he approached the front of the room, he glanced down, looking longer once he noticed who was currently at the helm. "Lieutenant Nakhimova, welcome aboard. I'm glad to see our additional crew made it over already."
Upon hearing the chime of the intraship comm, he turned and made eye-contact with Shirik. "To me? If the Captain hasn't already reported to the bridge this morning, I suppose I'll take it in the ready-room," he concluded, striding toward the door.
"Yes, sir." She tapped in the commands to transfer the call there.
Upon entering the room, and sparing a quick glance to make sure the captain wasn't lying in wait, he approached the desk and turned the monitor around, accessing the admiral's message.
"Commander Griffith," Admiral Calloway began, "I regret to inform you that Captain sh'Orthamu was called away on a family emergency. As this is not an emergency situation for your ship, your record doesn't warrant a field promotion. Another captain has already been dispatched from Alpha Centauri. You'll find the transfer orders and command authorization attached to this message. Starfleet Command, out."
Greggory stood there, reading the orders. He took a deep breath, understanding how things looked from Starfleet's perspective.
"Griffith to Bridge. We're going to be in orbit a bit longer than expected. Shirik, notify me when our latest transfer comes aboard." Taking the seat at the desk, he quickly began reading his new captain's official record, preparing himself.
After a few minutes Griffith's message came back. Shirik nodded even though he couldn't see her. "Aye, sir." she acknowledged.
Shortly behind the Commander's arrival, the turbo lift once again whooshed open quietly. Stepping onto the bridge; One green haired, Vulcan Lieutenant, hands clasped behind the small of her back. T'lol paused for a moment, taking in the bridge. Personally she thought the sudden transfer from Starfleet HQ had been slightly rushed, they'd had plenty of time to inform her of her new orders long before Vanguard had actually reached the station after all, which would have allowed her to report to the commanding officer ahead of her first shift. Orders, however, were orders. In her brief scan of the bridge, her eyes alighted upon the highest ranking officer present and moved to the Ops Officer.
"Lieutenant Commander Lektar? Lieutenant T'lol, Chief Flight Control Officer, reporting for duty." The Vulcan spoke softly, but clearly, standing ready at attention. There was an undeniable catch in her accent, specifically the way she pronounced the rank. LEF-tentant, not LIEU-tenant.
Shirik raised a very Vulcan-like eyebrow in response, her violet gaze taking in this Vulcan with odd-colored hair before flicking to the blonde currently at the helm and the sleepy Tellarite still on the bridge. "It seems there has been some miscommunication as to the shift assignments for flight crew," she muttered, looking down at her console and tapping keys. "Lt. Nakhimova, you are relieved until Gamma shift. Crewman Dagh, you have been reassigned to Beta Shift as of now. Please report back to the bridge then, and do try to be more awake. Lt. T'Lol... welcome to the bridge."
Then tapped her commbadge. "Commander Griffith. Our Chief Flight Control Officer has just arrived, if that's the transfer you were waiting for..."
It'd been little more than four hours since the emergency subspace communication from Admiral Calloway had come in. Lea's orders had changed, and she now found herself assigned to take command of an entirely different vessel than the one she'd originally set out for. Circumstances, as Admiral Calloway had explained, were of such an extraordinary sort that the situation demanded a certain degree of adaptation on his part, and more importantly, on hers. Of course, it had frustrated Lea, as she'd spent the previous two weeks getting properly acquainted with the personnel files and schematics of the Intrepid-class USS Ticonderoga, only to be given command of the Nova-class USS Vanguard and its personnel instead.
A part of her thought to refuse the orders, not because she didn't appreciate the opportunity to command the Vanguard, or that she felt slighted by missing out on the Ticonderoga, but rather because she wondered if this was the Universe's cosmic way of telling her to delay accepting command just a bit longer.
After all, she'd refused several previous offers.
But then a little voice at the back of her mind convinced her otherwise. Alexandre always had a way of finding the silver lining whenever things seemed dour, and she could imagine him trying to spin the 'cosmic interference' narrative on its head; after all, what if this had been the Universe's way of making sure she ended up in the right place?
Lea stifled a laugh, smiling a bit broader as she glanced at the crewman standing beside her in the turbolift cabin. "How long have you served aboard the Vanguard, Crewman Finley?" she asked him politely, the soft lilt of her French accent lingering in her voice. He had been assigned by the on-duty transporter chief as an escort.
"Not long, Ma'am," he replied.
Lea nodded appreciatively, affording him a generous smile as the whirring sound of the lift came to a halt. "Thank you." She stepped forward as the doors parted at the seam and, with a confident stride, emerged onto the bridge of the Vanguard. The scarlet-red of her uniform shoulders and the four golden pips on her collar caught the light, easily identifying her as Captain. With a wry smirk, Lea caught the tail end of something being said by the dark-skinned woman seated at the Chief Operations station. "I don't believe that to be the case, Commander," she responded, her crystal-blue eyes gazing across the bridge to gauge at least some of her crew.
"Commander Shirik! This is Captain Chevalier," the crewman explained as he followed after the Captain, a small PADD in hand that contained transfer orders for the newest Captain of the Vanguard. He briskly moved past Lea and approached Shirik.
Lea once again afforded a courteous nod, this time at Commander Shirik.
Iryna had all but checked out of the repartee going on around her among the other officers, catching something about an incoming message from the Admiral, and the subsequent arrival of a Vulcan Lieutenant.
Her eyes felt dry, her head throbbed, and she ached for bed.
But at the mention of her name, she blinked back to focus, spun a quarter-turn to her left, and glanced at Commander Lektar, then to the aforementioned Vulcan. Two and two suddenly clicked; Lieutenant T'lol had arrived, and Iryna's first Gamma-shift aboard the Vanguard could indeed come to a merciful end. "Ura, nareshti!" she exclaimed energetically, her Russo-Ukrainian upbringing sneaking through once more — or rather, "Hooray! Finally!" in Federation Standard. Pushing up from her station, she stood and brushed her skirted uniform down once with both hands before she made way for her superior to take over the conn.
"Good morning, Lieutenant," she said, affording T'lol an appreciative smile.
An instant later, her gaze shifted to the turbolift at the aft-starboard position as an officer she'd not yet met emerged, followed by a crewman she also hadn't met. The woman seemed to have an air of confidence about her.
Another Captain? Iryna raised an eyebrow before she glanced to the Vulcan.
Shirik looked up, her expression an odd mixture of surprise and annoyance. "That's Commander Lektar," she corrected. Her expression went neutral once more as she accepted the offered PADD, and even while looking it over was already calling the ready room. "Commander Griffith, Captain Chevalier is here..." she said. She couldn't help but wonder what happened to Captain sh'Orthamu, whose absence this morning she had noticed.
Raikon finished the last bit of his report and sent it off to the appropriate channels. He had added a addendum for Commander Griffith knowing he would appreciate a more in depth technical brief. Running his hands over his face to get the sleep out and refresh himself after typing the report he turned around in his seat on time seeing a unfamiliar face striding into the bridge and introducing herself as the captain.
"Captain on deck!!" Raikon called out getting out of his seat and standing at attention.
Shirik managed to refrain from rolling her eyes as Achaea jumped to his feet.
Greggory stood up from the desk when Shirik sent her first message. He closed out the personnel files before heading towards the door. He hadn't made it five steps before her update came through. He nodded to himself and strode purposefully onto the bridge.
A quick glance at the collected group of flight officers gave him a moment of pause, but he turned and walked up to the newest CO, offering a handshake. "Captain Chevalier, welcome aboard. May I presume that Admiral Calloway already gave you our first assignment?"
He looked around at the assembled officers, in various states of attention. "Did you want to address the elephant in the room, or should I?"
"Thank you Commander." T'lol replied to Lt. Commander Lektar before giving a nod to Lieutenant Nakhimova as she made space at the Conn and settled in. "Good morning Lieutenant." she replied formally. Taking in a moment to acquaint herself with the ship's position and attitude, T'lol immediately set about changing the controls to her own preference with a few quick, experienced inputs, setting them up as a preset she could freely change for the default at the end of her shift.
She was interrupted however at the announcement of a captain on the bridge. Stopping, T'lol looked up from her station towards the turbolift, with the aforementioned typical Vulcan arch of an eyebrow. It was unlikely anyone would recognize surprise on her face, but she was.
As the brief scramble of shift change went on for a few seconds, her Vulcan Chief Flight Officer taking the place of a blonde she assumed to be the assistant, Lea was trying to put names to faces using what little she'd managed to learn of the crew so far.
Lektar at Ops. T'lol taking the conn. Nakhimova coming off duty. Achaea at the Engineering station? It would take time to know for sure.
Gently, she then cocked one eyebrow higher than the other as she observed Commander Lektar's reaction to the crewman, who'd just committed the faux pas of getting the woman's rank and preferred name wrong. A small curl soon appeared at the corner of her lips as she sensed the relative annoyance displayed by the Chief of Operations, a recollection of the brief perusal of her personnel file that Lea had managed to sneak in; indeed, she was living up to her reputation already. Lea knew she'd have to keep an eye on that and, if necessary, clamp down, but as it was, the firm correction was far from overboard compared with what she might have permitted.
An instant later, her focus shifted to a bearded man who stood and called the bridge to attention in recognition of a Commanding Officer's arrival on deck. Word seemed to travel fast, Lea surmised, as she realized the proverbial cat was out of the bag.
"That's quite all right, Commander. At ease." She afforded him an appreciative nod.
Simultaneously, she caught the stifled sarcastic roll of a pair of lilac-tinted eyes from the corner of her own azure ones. Her gaze returned to the woman with obsidian-dark skin seated at the port side of the forward console.
Yet as the portside-aft doors slid open once more, Lea heard sure-footed steps approaching her with a steadfastness quite heavily tinged with authority. "Commander Griffith, thank you!" She accepted the offered hand politely, and though she sensed a masculine, if also pensive, firmness to his grip, she reciprocated a bit more gently, acknowledging his strength without feeling the need to match it. "Indeed, the Admiral has informed me of our situation, and our orders. Please..." The soft lilt of her accent lingered in her voice as she released his hand and motioned for him to take his station at the XO's position.
"Commander Lektar, if you would please open a ship-wide channel, that I might address the crew regarding Captain sh'Orthamu, and our orders." Her eyelids narrowed ever so slightly, as though to further gauge the Chief's reaction.
Iryna, painfully aware of the siren call of her bed all the way down on Deck 4, blinked her heavy eyelids as she took up a position near the aft-starboard turbolift, content to linger just a moment to see what this was all about.
Though an instant later, at the call to attention from Commander Achaea, Iryna found herself similarly inclined, like Lektar, and about to roll her eyes at the overt formality. She thought better of it, and instead pushed off the bulkhead with her shoulder to stand a bit straighter rather than keep slouching. Yet when Commander Griffith returned, and this time she'd actually noticed him, she found herself a bit more interested in observing due protocol. She cleared her throat and adjusted her stance, hands at her sides.
By this time Shirik's expression was back to the neutral one she usually wore, her attention now on her console as the Captain addressed her. "Yes, Captain," she said, her ebony fingers deftly tapping in commands. The console beeped in response. "Channel open."
Cerys had been studying her science console for long enough that she was beginning to resent it for having nothing interesting to report. But she kept noticing the empty space at the center of the Bridge. Where exactly is Captain sh'Orthamu?
She still hadn't decided what she thought of the Captain. There had always been something about her that left Cerys vaguely unsettled, though she had never managed to identify anything more concrete than a feeling, which was terribly inconvenient for a scientist.
Then the bridge snapped to attention as someone announced "Captain in the bridge!" Cerys looked up as an unfamiliar woman entered. Oh. The way everyone reacted answered at least one question. Well. That's new.
And, rather embarrassingly, Cerys felt herself relax. She immediately frowned at herself. Don't look relieved. You don't even know where the woman went. Transferred, perhaps. Reassigned. Something perfectly mundane. Possibly eaten by a spatial anomaly, but we're not rooting for that. Still, the relief remained.
Then came mention of an Admiral, new orders, and apparently a ship-wide announcement concerning Captain sh'Orthamu. Cerys abandoned all pretense of working. Right. So not a routine personnel shuffle, then.
Her attention shifted fully toward the unfamiliar Captain, curiosity rapidly overtaking everything else. Who are you? And, perhaps more importantly: What happened to the last one?
Raikon gave her a quick nod and "Ma'am" before sitting down again behind his console. He didn't care about the looks or eye rolls he elicited. He found sometimes discipline a bit lax in Starfleet but found it was always up to the captain to enforce or not.
A little show of respect to a newly arrived Captain is one of them...
Lea's hand went to the Starfleet delta pinned to the left side of her uniform, a faintly audible chirp sounding as it activated and connected to the ship-wide channel Commander Lektar had just opened.
"Attention, all officers and crew of the USS Vanguard, NCC-76381. I am Captain Lea Chevalier. Effective immediately, I am assuming command of this vessel by order of Admiral Calloway. I cannot speak to the specific details regarding the absence of Captain sh'Orthamu, only that she has been relieved of duty for a personal matter, at her request." Pausing a moment to let what she had just revealed sink in, Lea cast a wide gaze across the bridge to the various officers at their respective stations. "My expectations are that you will continue to serve this ship, your fellow crew, and the Federation with the same professionalism you showed during your brief time under her command. Thank you. Chevalier out."
With that, Lea tapped her commbadge once more to close the channel. Her gaze once more went to Griffith. "Commander, our orders state that we are to travel to the last known position of the USS Kepler, an Oberth-class vessel that has gone missing while en route to chart a nebula near the Bandari system. Please see to it that we are ready to be underway within the hour, and notify me accordingly. You have the bridge." A short nod later, Lea stepped past her XO and through the aft port-side door which led out into the access corridor, her intent to retreat to her new ready room so she might report to Admiral Calloway, and perhaps settle in just a bit.
Once the doors parted and Lea stepped into what was now her ready room, she let out a deep exhale and glanced about, feeling a sense of ease, excitement, and wonder at what lay ahead of her and her crew at the start of this journey together.
T'lol blinked as she processed what their new Captain had said, watching her head to the ready room, before T'lol gave herself a slight shake and returned her attentions on her console. A few more inputs and a mental note to contact Varissa at the end of her shift were made. Brushing a few strands of green hair from her eyes, she glanced up at Commander Griffith "Course laid in for the Bandari System, Commander, helm standing by." The Vulcan then returned to her console, adjusting attitude thrusters as needed.
Shirik closed the channel once the Captain finished her announcement. She was no stranger to last-minute reassignments so thought nothing of it. But she wondered what had happened to Capt. sh'Orthamu that she had to leave so suddenly, and that left her with an issue she would have to address soon. She would have to find the Security Chief after shift.
Greggory shook the captain's hand, the gentle but confident grip reassuring. At her gesture, he walked over to his chair, though he didn't actually sit, yet. Looking around the bridge crew, he couldn't help a small smile when he saw Iryna waiting by the turbolift, curiosity warring with her obvious fatigue.
As he listened to Captain Chevalier's address, he nodded along at the information he already knew, meeting the captain's eye with a firmer nod. "Orders received, Captain. I'll see to it." He waited until she had left the bridge, then turned to Shirik. "Commander Lektar, do one last check with the quartermaster, make sure all the supplies and personnel we're expecting have been transported up from planetside. Once that's complete, we'll set out. Commander Achaea, I believe you already said Engineering is ready for whatever we ask of the engines?"
After getting helm's report, he nodded. "Good to hear. Take us into a high orbit in preparation for departure until Ops gives the all-clear, then engage at Warp 7. Lieutenant Rowan, work with astrometrics to give us likely locations the Kepler may have drifted to, or any marginally hospitable planets between their last reported location and the Bandari system where they may have sought shelter. I want your report by the time we arrive," he finished, turning from the Science station to finally take his seat.
"Aye sir." Shirik started tapping at her console, asking for status reports from her crew and checking manifests herself. "Coordinates of the Kepler's last known location have been transmitted to us," she reported. "Sending them to Helm. The last of the cargo is being offloaded now. We should be ready shortly."
Seated comfortably at what was now her desk, Lea had already logged into the computer terminal with her credentials, and as the databases updated, she sipped at a tiny cup of espresso.
"Computer, shipboard time, please?" she inquired.
"The shipboard time is oh-eight-twenty-two," the computer answered.
With a succinct nod, she took another sip to finish the last of her much-needed caffeine boost, and after setting the cup back onto its saucer, she snatched the accompanying bit of chocolate biscotti and popped it into her mouth to munch on as she scrolled through the list of files that had so far been transferred. She worked quickly, highlighting those the Admiralty had forwarded with regard to their mission, and began sending them out to their respective department heads as additional briefing material. Simultaneously, she began making requests for status updates from each of them, wanting to ensure their departments were ready for whatever lay ahead.
When she resumed scrolling through the other information that had been forwarded, one file in particular — marked Captain's Eyes Only and sent by Admiral Hargrove at Starfleet Intelligence — elicited a sigh from her.
She'd read it once already, recalling the concerns voiced regarding a particular member of her new senior staff, but truth be told, Lea wasn't sure how much stock she could put in everything it warned of. Lea had dealt with Starfleet Intelligence at times during her career, especially during the Dominion War, and knew well how oversensitive and suspicious they could sometimes prove to be. Sure, there had been times when that suspicion was warranted, but she couldn't help but wonder if this was truly one of those times. In a way, the brief from the Admiral read as though it had been tinged with a heavy sense of xenophobia, and that troubled her immensely.
Regardless, she knew she would have to make her own assessments, and swore to herself that she would not let her sense of impartiality be tainted by what she'd read, no matter how potentially distressing some of it appeared to be.
The captain of a starship had to be fair in her judgments.
Raikon turned slightly in his seat and responded to Commander Griffith. "Yes Sir, she's ready to go on your command." Turning back to his console Raikon resumed his work. There wasn't much to prepare — the engineering team were ready to be underway.
T'lol nodded wordlessly, adjusting their position for departure. "Updating projected course," the Vulcan stated after a moment, her console pinging as it received the coordinates from Ops while Vanguard settled into her new, higher orbit smoothly. "Course plotted," T'lol said, glancing at Lt. Commander Lektar. "Standing by for Warp 7."
Cerys remained at the science station while the new Captain addressed the ship, doing her best impression of an officer who had absolutely not spent the previous several seconds wondering who the hell this woman was. Lea Chevalier. There. Mystery solved. One mystery, anyway.
Captain sh'Orthamu's absence was apparently due to a personal matter, and she had been relieved at her own request, which was an impressively efficient way of using several words to convey almost no information whatsoever. Cerys raised an eyebrow. Excellent. Glad we cleared that up.
Still, sh'Orthamu was apparently all right. And it made Cerys feel considerably less guilty about the small, undeniable sense of relief she'd experienced upon learning someone else was sitting in the command chair. Then Chevalier mentioned the USS Kepler. Missing. Cerys turned immediately back to her console. Oh.
An Oberth-class science vessel had stopped communicating en route to a nebula survey. This was, objectively, terrible. It was also the most interesting thing Cerys had heard in several days, which was an uncomfortable occupational hazard of being in Starfleet.
Commander Griffith began issuing orders. When he reached Science, Cerys turned toward him and nodded. "Aye, Commander. I'll have Science ready for departure and a preliminary assessment of the Kepler's last known position before we arrive."
She turned back to her console and pulled up the available astrometric data. The first thing she discovered was... Nothing. Cerys frowned. She widened the display. Still nothing. The Kepler had stopped communicating in an apparently empty region of space, roughly two light-years short of the nebula it had been traveling to study. No star. No planet. No conveniently enormous spatial phenomenon sitting at the coordinates with a little sign reading MYSTERY HERE. Well. That's inconsiderate.
She pulled the map farther out. The nearest stellar system was NXT-3002, the Bandari system, a G-class star with seven planets and two moons. It lay well away from the Kepler's last known position, and roughly seven light-years from the nebula itself. Cerys opened the system record. Then paused. The most recent sensor chart had been conducted by the USS Bangalore. Seventy-five years ago. She stared at the date. Oh, good. Archaeology.
Cerys began pulling up the Bangalore's original survey data anyway. Seventy-five years wasn't terribly long on an astronomical scale. On a Starfleet-charting scale, however, it was long enough for the universe to have developed several new and exciting ways of being unpredictable.
She returned to the Kepler's last known coordinates. Empty space. That bothered her. Not because empty space was unusual. Most of space was empty. It was arguably space's most defining characteristic. But starships generally did not stop communicating because they had encountered an especially aggressive patch of nothing.
Cerys brought up the Kepler's intended course and traced it toward the nebula, then across toward Bandari. Perhaps there was a connection. Perhaps there wasn't. At this distance, she had no justification for inventing one simply because it made the map more interesting. Very tempting, though.
That familiar spark of scientific excitement had already begun, and seeing the names cooled it immediately. She looked at the Kepler's crew manifest sitting quietly beside the telemetry. Names. Departments. Scientists who had probably been sitting at consoles much like hers when whatever happened had happened. The puzzle suddenly felt rather less abstract.
Cerys returned to the Kepler's final coordinates and began assembling her preliminary report. The curiosity was still there. Of course it was. She couldn't switch that part of herself off. But now it had somewhere useful to go. She stared at the little marker representing the Kepler's last known position.
All right. Where did you go?
Zaje met eyes with his new colleagues after the new captain's announcement. Whilst he hadn't had time to engage with Captain sh'Orthamu, he liked how she had conducted herself, albeit slightly unorthodox.
His ears pricked up further at the mention of the USS Kepler. It's never a good sign when a Starfleet vessel fails to report in on what should be a routine mission. There were too many variables to factor in to make an assumption about what had happened.
"Captain, if I may, I'd like to run some battle and defensive drills whilst en route. I would rather be prepared in case we encounter any less than friendly contacts."
Zaje quickly sent a message to his security teams to compile dossiers on the Kepler crew.
Once the cargo transfer was completed, Greggory straightened in his seat. "Alright, Helm. Take us out. Warp 7, engage."
"Captain Chevalier," he called over the comm, "we have left the Alpha Centauri system. We should arrive within 48 hours."
Turning to his tactical officer, he made eye contact. "I trust that will be enough time for some drills in the holodeck? Work with Engineering for a systems check. We'll have to push the live-fire drills until after this mission, assuming we don't end up doing a trial-under-fire. But I'll make sure that's in the schedule the next time we're not short on time."
"36 hours, Commander," Shirik said from her console. "We should arrive at approximately 2000 hours tomorrow."
Inside her ready room, Léa had just returned the empty espresso cup and saucer to the replicator housing for recycling when the stars beyond the viewport blue-shifted and began to streak past.
They had gone to warp.
"Captain Chevalier, we have left the Alpha Centauri system. We should arrive within forty-eight hours," came her XO's voice over the comm.
"Yes. Understood, Number One. Thank you." Léa replied after tapping the commbadge pinned beneath her left shoulder. She closed the channel with a similar gesture, then turned to take in the ready room once more, wondering how she might give the space more of her own personality. She recalled Captain Halladay explaining that a few mementos from one's past could make subordinates feel less threatened when reporting there—and, at the same time, make an irate admiral feel a little less intimidating. A two-fold defense, he had teased.
The memory of her former CO brought a smile as she exhaled softly.
Pleasant as the distraction was, Léa knew she had more pressing matters to attend to. Most notably, she still needed to name the Vanguard's Second Officer, a role that had gone unfilled under Captain sh'Orthamu. She had gone over her senior staff a number of times, and three names stood out as candidates for 2XO. First was Lieutenant Commander Achaea. He was experienced and seemed poised to make a jump to the command track, but Léa disliked the idea of depriving the Vanguard of her chief engineer so early in a mission. Second was Lieutenant Korn, another experienced candidate. His tactical expertise and service as security chief made him a natural leader, though he would need a promotion if selected.
Léa took her seat and activated the terminal on her desk, bringing up the dossier of the third candidate she had in mind: Lieutenant Commander Lektar. Like the others, she had experience, and as chief operations officer, naming her 2XO was a natural fit.
With a deep sigh, Léa shook her head, dismissing something still nagging at her.
Knowing she did not have all the answers—and recalling how often Captain Halladay had relied on her advice for difficult decisions—she decided to follow in his footsteps.
She tapped her commbadge. "Commander Griffith, please report to my ready room."
Zaje met Cmdr. Griffith's eye. "Of course sir, there will be ample time, thank you. I will work with engineering as you suggest. She'll be ready for a fight...should the need arise."
He didn't like leaving things unprepared. It's always been drilled into him to be ready for the unexpected and he'd made it his duty to try and cover all eventualities. "Not this time Zaje, not this time" he thought to himself.
Greggory sat in his chair as Alpha Centauri fell away behind them, looking over department reports and shipboard incident reports.
A short time later, he got a call from the captain. "On my way, Captain." Standing up, he quickly swept his eyes over the bridge crew. He tried, to varying degrees of success, not to linger on any particular face as he reviewed what he had read in personnel files.
"Commander Achaea, you have the Conn." After receiving acknowledgment, he headed towards the ready room.
Stopping just inside the door, he announced himself. "You wanted to see me, Captain?"
"Aye, Sir. I have the conn." Raikon replied leaving the engineering station and sitting down in the captain's chair.
He noted the change of command in the logs. He relaxed in the chair, there wasn't anything to do at the moment but keep the current heading and wait to arrive.
At the sound of the doors opening, Lea looked up from the reports she had been reading at her desk. "Yes. Please, have a seat." She motioned toward either of the chairs on the opposite side of the desk.
"Commander..." She paused a moment, leaning back in her chair, her eyes shifting to the viewport and the stars streaming by outside. "...I wanted to make something clear to you about my expectations for you as my Executive Officer." She knew better than to obfuscate the sort of guidance and advice she would want from her Number One, and she decided against mincing words with Griffith. She needed to be forthright about any concerns she had, and in turn trust him to act with the confidence she would expect of her right hand. Her own experience as an XO shaped her decision-making here.
"I have read your files. I have seen the mission reports from Captain sh'Orthamu. They were, of course, satisfactory - but I want to avoid the mistake of making assumptions." Her gaze returned to him. "You should know that I intend to count on you for your honest opinions, because I will in turn share my own, whether or not they ruffle feathers. If we are going to be successful in this mission, and in any future missions, then we must ensure that the command relationship between captain and executive officer is one of trust, and a willingness to embrace that honesty. I am not looking for a yes-man when decisions need to be made. I will want your input."
After a short pause, she allowed her expression to lighten slightly. "Of course, I am not asking you to be obstinate either. There is a balance a Number One has to find in the role, and I am sure you will find it."
"But for the time being, can I count on your due diligence with regard to the honesty I am seeking from you?"
At the captain's address, he walked across the room to stand across the desk. Stoically, he listened to her concerns. "I understand the difference between time for debate and time for unification, Sir. In the spirit of honesty, permission to speak freely?"
"I have always heard that a captain's first obligation is to the mission and a first officer's obligation is to the ship and crew. I intend to offer advice and question your orders on that principle. Once your orders are final, however, I will carry them out to the best of my abilities, in the best method available to me. If there's a way through a tough situation, we'll find it together."
"When we're in this room, you're always free to speak, Commander." Léa answered, giving her full attention to her new Number One, her crystal-blue eyes intent on his mannerisms as he began.
He could—and would—speak his mind, she realized immediately.
Good, she thought.
A moment later, when he had finished his carefully measured declaration, in which Léa found more than a little common ground, she offered him a modest smile of affirmation. "I'm glad to hear it, Commander. And indeed, if you can abide such an arrangement—as you have outlined, and as I have put forth—then I don't see why we wouldn't find success together." She laced her fingers together, set her hands atop her desk, and leaned forward a little, seemingly pleased by this early exchange with the man she would have to rely on more closely than anyone else in the weeks and months ahead, however long her assignment to the Vanguard lasted.
"Now, I understand Captain sh'Orthamu had not yet named her second officer, and I would be remiss if I allowed our ship to enter circumstances that might threaten the chain of command without completing that task. We do not know what awaits us in our search for the missing Kepler." For a moment she glanced right again, at the stars streaming past the ready-room viewport. "And as I am to rely on you as my first, you—should something happen to me—would have to rely on someone else among our senior staff to act as yours. Which is why I would like your input in naming them."
She leaned back a little, her hands parting as she reached for a particular PADD among several on her desk. "There are three names that immediately stand out to me as suitable candidates: Commander Achaea, Commander Lektar, and lastly Lieutenant Korn."
She set the PADD at the front of her desk for Griffith to review. "All three have potential, but each comes with drawbacks. Commander Achaea is our chief engineer, and may already have his hands full. Lieutenant Korn would need to be promoted if we named him, though that is a minor issue. And Commander Lektar..." Her voice trailed off for a moment as her thoughts returned to the warnings she had read in the private communiqué from Admiral Hargrove at Starfleet Intelligence. "...as chief of operations, naming her second officer is a natural thought, though I'm not sure how familiar you are with her history. Suffice it to say, some concerns have been raised."
Léa leaned back once more, crossing one thigh over the other as her hands came to rest in her lap. "Can I assume Captain sh'Orthamu approached you with this dilemma before her resignation, and have you had time to consider these options?"
She tilted her head slightly, inviting a response.
Raikon sat quietly in the Captain's chair, looking over the latest engineering reports on his PADD. He was glad to see that the months of work refitting her had paid off and that everything was operating within parameters. The last hour had been quite uneventful.
In the meantime, someone from the engineering team had replaced him at his station monitoring Engineering.
After a few moments, he rested the PADD on his lap and looked to his left toward the operations station. He felt it was time to have the various stations report in.
"Commander Lektar, anything to report?"
"One bioneural gelpack has gone offline on Deck 6, but the new automatic systems rerouted as expected," Shirik reported to Achaea. "The affected pack is being replaced now. I'll begin analysis on why it malfunctioned once it's available. Other than that, all systems seem to be functioning normally."
As the conversation moved to a more lengthy topic, Greggory took the seat in front of the captain's desk. "Fortunately, Captain sh'Orthamu had already requested such a discussion before her untimely departure." Pulling out his own PADD from a pocket along his thigh, he called up his prepared report, syncing it with Lea's PADD.
"Raikon Achaea certainly has the experience to be the 2XO, but I know personally how busy being Chief Engineer can be. He's a fine bridge officer and can handle the CONN, but in an emergency, I wouldn't want to take his focus away from coordinating engineering teams. Korn Zaje has a similar problem, although his command experience seems rather recent."
Greggory shifted in his seat as he read the final report on the captain's PADD. Finally, he pushed it back towards Lea and looked at her confidently. "Honestly, no one knows this ship as well as Commander Achaea and myself EXCEPT Shirik Lektar, probably better if you include personnel alongside technical systems. She's just as capable of coordinating departments as she is balancing systems, so adding the duties of XO wouldn't distract her from her position at Ops. She IS a bit abrasive, but she stays calm under pressure and is capable of making the hard decisions.
"I'm aware of her history, both before joining Starfleet and the disciplinary actions in her record. We worked together for a while aboard the Constellation and I can attest that, while she might react strongly to personal threats, she doesn't use violence without provocation. I've never even seen her draw her Kemla unless training or fighting off a boarding action."
He offered a bit of a smile to Lea. "She's a strong-willed, no-nonsense officer who isn't afraid to speak her mind, just like what you asked of me. There's no one on this ship I'd rather have backing me up as my XO."
As her Number One finally took the offered seat, Léa leaned back in order to give him the attention his diligence seemed to demand. She listened closely to his summary of each of the three candidates she had mentioned, his analysis apparently in line with her own as he read from a report that had been prepared for her predecessor.
It was safe to say that Léa was already feeling comfortable with her new XO.
Naturally, when he reached the last of the three, one eyebrow lifted slightly higher than the other as she found herself relieved to hear some positive feedback that could counterbalance the more cautionary warnings. When he finished, Léa allowed an approving smile to tug once more at the corners of her lips. "It sounds to me, then, that you have a preference in mind—and, generally speaking, it is in alignment with my own. I have no doubt that Commander Achaea and Lieutenant Korn could prove themselves capable second officers, but given the circumstances, it would seem that Commander Lektar is the favored choice."
She paused a moment, letting a beat of silence settle before her crystal-blue eyes shifted toward the viewport, then back to Griffith. "I will take some time to consider all factors, after which I will make my decision. Soon. Thank you for your input, Number One. That will be all."
Léa leaned back, her smile genuinely appreciative as she looked at him.
Greggory sat in silence as Lea quickly processed his report. When she began to talk about their analysis being in general agreement, he caught the use of "could prove themselves." Probably not the kind of split responsibilities that could be trusted with the ship.
"As an addendum, I would recommend Achaea and Korn for Away Missions, would give them more experience taking the command lead and getting crew from different departments to work together.
"I am grateful you put such trust in my opinions, Captain. She is indeed, my favorite choice," he said with a straight face but a slight twinkle. "I'll help get any other information you require." Pushing himself up from the chair, he turned toward the door that would release him onto the bridge, but stopped just outside of its trigger range. "Captain, please don't share this brief when she talks to you. Thank you for your understanding. If there's ever anything you want to share, you know (or the ship) where to find me. Maybe we can decompress over a meal."
As the door opened, he stopped again. "I'll let you know when we arrive, or whenever something decides to interpose themselves in our narrow stretch of vastness." With that, he returned to his place on the bridge, settling in for a long flight.
"Who Needs Pomp?"
Lieutenant Iryna Nakhimova
Lieutenant Commander Shirik Lektar
Stardate: 58807.14 17h12
Location: Deck 02, Mess Hall
***
Sleep had been a fleeting thing for Iryna.
She'd been quite tired after the end of Gamma-shift, yet when she'd returned to her quarters to bed down, her mind wandered here and there. Thoughts came and went, and she struggled to silence them, instead tossing and turning for about two hours before finally drifting off, and even then what little sleep she had mustered was far from restorative. Eventually she'd had enough of fighting her insomnia and gave in to it, climbing out of bed and heading up two decks to find some food; maybe induce a gastro-coma, as her brother Oleksandr liked to call it.
As it was, the mess hall was decidedly busy at the moment, though given Alpha shift had just come off a little more than an hour earlier, that made perfect sense.
Exhaling deeply, she peered along the far wall and at a brisk pace headed off toward the replimat, passing a few other crew members as they left with trays of food. "Umm — Bajoran hasperat, and hot cup of Cardassian Red Leaf tea, double-sveet, pleese." She pressed a finger against the console above the replicator housing, and after the computer analyzed her order, deciphering her thick Russo-Ukrainian accent, a soft whirring noise and an ambient light shone as the food materialized from seemingly nothing and nowhere.
"Spasiba."
Tray in hand, she turned on her heel and glanced about for an open place where she could sit and enjoy her meal, not necessarily in solitude, but she'd yet to really get to know any members of the crew.
After a moment, she spotted a nearly empty table and headed there, taking a seat.
One table had a single occupant, the dark-skinned Drokari Lektar. She had a plate of half-nibbled food in front of her as well as a mug of something hot that smelled bitter. Her attention was on a PADD in front of her that she was tapping away at. She looked up as her keen ears heard someone approaching, her violet gaze studying the blonde helm officer as she took a seat. One eyebrow rose slightly as she said mildly, "Usually it's customary to ask whether the seat is taken, is it not?" She paused before adding. "It was not."
"That is good." Iryna quickly quipped in response as she looked at Shirik seated at the table, her gaze trailing over the other woman's unusual features among the crew—ebony-dark skin, ice-white hair, lavender eyes. "Still, in mess hall, people vill sit where people vill sit, no?" she asked with a hint of rhetorical curiosity, careful that her examination of Shirik did not linger long enough to seem eerie. "Or they sit and eat alone in quarters?" With one hand she selected half of her hasperat, the traditional Bajoran dish much like an Earth sandwich wrap. She took a bite, letting the spicy brined peppers sting and stimulate her tongue just the way she liked.
"We did not get chance to be properly acclimated on bridge. I am Iryna." She offered a polite nod as an informal, semi-familiar introduction.
Shirik thought about answering the question for a moment, but decided it wasn't worth the debate. "I usually prefer to eat in my quarters," she said. "I am Lt. Cmdr. Shirik Lektar." She glanced briefly at what Iryna was eating to identify it, and she knew what it was. She had enough experience with Bajorans to know. "I see you like Bajoran food," she mused, her attention returning to her PADD as she tapped some more notes.
"Da. I spent some time flying runabout to Bajor and back during war relief. Learned to like it then." She explained simply before taking a second bite, then washing it down with a sip of tea. "Spicy food is best," she added quickly.
"If you prefer to eat in quarters, why come here?" she countered, leaning back a little in her seat to listen to Shirik's answer, genuinely curious and seemingly set on drawing her into conversation despite the obvious distraction of the PADD. Whether it was deliberate or only incidental ignorance, it was typical of Iryna to pull others into socializing even when they were not especially interested. She sipped her tea again, letting the sweet, cinnamon-like drink soothe the burn on her tongue before she took another bite of her hasperat. "Place like this is hazardous if you want to be alone. Someone might talk to you."
There was no detectable irony or self-awareness in the last remark, as Iryna glanced around at the others seated in the mess hall, enjoying one another's company or simply eating together.
Iryna's head tilted just slightly as she looked at Shirik with curiosity.
Shirik had wondered that herself. Likely the recent bout of nostalgia for old friends had something to do with it. "Sometimes I like to just sit and listen to what others are saying," she shrugged. "While I work. You can sometimes pick up on useful information that way." She took another forkful of what looked like some sort of mushroom-like fungus. "I dislike spicy food," she observed, although the bitter smell of her drink was reminiscent of battery acid.
One corner of her mouth quirked slight at Iryna's warning of the hazards of speech. "Indeed, that is the risk of coming here," she said deadpan.
Iryna listened and nodded as Shirik explained her choice of place for a meal, sipping her tea once more before setting the glass down and going back for another bite of hasperat.
With a simple shrug, she seemed to accept Shirik's distaste for spicier cuisine.
"You watch people? Listen to them?" Iryna asked, half rhetorical, taking another bite before she tilted her head ever so slightly the other way—neither quite judging Shirik for it nor approving. Instead she turned from the ebony-skinned woman and glanced from one table to the next, looking over the faces of the crew seated at each. When she spotted a pair sitting alone a few meters away in a more secluded spot, apparently lost in some fond conversation, Iryna turned back to Shirik.
"Useful information?" She cocked an eyebrow in apparent disbelief.
A moment later her attention shifted to Shirik's meal, drawn by the scent of something quite bitter. "What is that?" she asked plainly, leaning in a little closer to look.
"Indeed. Why be around other people if you're not going to pay attention to them?" she mused. "A personnel file and a crew manifest can only tell you so much. When your experience with other species and cultures is limited, you can learn much about them by simply listening." Her gaze was still on her PADD and she tapped on it as she continued, "The table behind me and to my right is discussing whether replicated foods taste the same as hand-made foods. The one to my left is discussing the relative merits of various greeting rituals practiced by several cultures." The people at those tables were not speaking very loudly. "The table with the two in intimate conversation I am not listening to, as they are discussing nothing of interest to me."
Shirik glanced over at her mug and picked it up to have a swallow. "It's klaas," she said. "A drink from my homeworld. It serves the same function as coffee or raktajino for other races. The replicators haven't been programmed for it yet, I haven't had the time, so I made some from my own supply."
Shirik's musings, rather ironically, passed Iryna by—whether willfully or absently—just as the stars zipped past the nearby viewport. The blonde only looked deadpan at the exotic woman seated across from her, chewing her hasperat and seemingly listening.
Seemingly.
Then, as Shirik began to summarize what she had deduced from each of the other tables around them, Iryna let her gaze follow, shifting from one to the next in turn. "It doesn't," she answered succinctly to the dilemma Shirik had outlined at the first table. "That sounds boring," she added of the next conversation her table-mate had been eavesdropping on. And lastly, as Shirik seemed to regard the final table with outright disinterest, Iryna could not help a teasing, playful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips.
She made an inquisitive face as she leaned in and glanced again at the glass of "klaas" in front of Shirik, still neither quite judging nor approving. "Drokari drink? I've not had chance to sample Drokari cuisine yet," she said. "Looks like… maybe Nausicaan coffee?" She thought back for a moment to the first time she had tried that astringent drink—on a dare from a friend at the Academy—and quickly remembered it tasting like hot, sour fermented beet juice. With a visible shudder, she snatched up her cup of red-leaf tea and took another sip, as if to wash the memory away.
"Anyway, for your notes…" Iryna steered them back to Shirik's people-watching and turned to point rather overtly at one of the two crewmen lost in their intimate conversation. "He…" she said, loud enough that it drew looks from a few others, "…is asking her if she wants dinner tomorrow, and she is…" Iryna paused, searching her native tongue under her breath for the right word. "Kakoye slovo… ravnodushnaya? Nyet. Neprinuzhdyonnaya? Nyet. Nelovko yey…" A beat. "…hesitant. That is the word! Hesitant! She is hesitant!" she repeated emphatically, oblivious to the others now listening in.
"I may have lingered at replicator for moment."
An instant later, as it dawned on her that the others had tuned in to her and Shirik, Iryna looked back and waved her hands to shoo them off. "Otvernites'. Yesh'te dalshe! Ne vashe delo!" she exclaimed.
"Sorry. People can be so rude."
"Indeed," she said, glancing into her mug as she took another sip. "You don't want to sample this one, non-Drokari literally can't stomach it." She fell silent and one eyebrow rose as Iryna made her rather loud announcement. "For a moment." she said dryly, noting that the irony of Iryna's words about rudeness had apparently escaped her. What was that saying the humans had, she wondered? Something about various cookware calling each other names? No matter. "Observation is best done using discretion," she said, her attention returning to her PADD. "Or you learn little."
At the warning about the apparent indigestibility of Drokari cuisine, Iryna made an awkwardly silly face as she leaned in close and low to peer into the dark brew, wondering if it might well have been a swirling black hole in a cup.
"Is fair," Iryna answered plainly with regard to the point made about discretion, lifting her gaze to Shirik and pulling back a little. "But that does not sound fun. It sounds like… sitting in silence in mess hall, eating food alone and pretending to read report on PADD. It sounds boring," she surmised, retrieving her tea for another sip and letting the thought linger a moment. "Is boring interesting to learn much of? Would not be better to learn little that is boring, instead?" There was a faint pause as Iryna seemed to turn the words over in her mind, her eyes tracking up and from left to right before they settled again, content with their meaning.
The contents of the cup were indeed black, and with an intensely bitter aroma.
"I am not pretending to read," she said. "I am reading. But I am also listening, and eating. I am not bored. I am rarely bored. Does speaking loudly and potentially embarrassing those around you keep you from boredom?" She paused in her reading to take another bite of her food and wash it down with some of the nasty brew.
As Shirik made the appropriate correction of Iryna's inaccurate assumption that she had been pretending to read, Iryna's head popped up, then tilted away in surprised realization. A faint "Oh…" escaped her lips as she adopted an expression that could only be described as loosely apologetic, and heavily tinged with a reluctance to take full accountability. Then, as Shirik followed up with her pointed question, Iryna's eyes shifted upward as though she needed a moment to contemplate an answer she already knew. "Hmm… maybe?" she said an instant later, before her penchant for plain honesty overrode any impulse to deflect. "Yes. Probably definitely," she added, with a heavy affirming nod, as she reclaimed her hasperat and took a bite.
"Does that bother you?" she asked curiously between chews.
"I consider it an inappropriate way to conduct oneself in public," she mused. "One that may lead to trouble for you in the future if you aren't more cautious. If you are bored, you should find a more constructive way to alleviate it. There is a ship's library, a gymnasium, holodecks… any number of activities you could engage in that are more socially acceptable and don't cause others undue stress or embarrassment. It does not bother me, but it does seem a waste of time and talent that could be put to better use." Her food was gone and she swallowed the last of her drink.
The tilt of Iryna's face gradually increased to the left as she listened to Shirik muse over their situation, her eyes focused as the words were processed in turn. At the mention of the library, those eyes rolled. At the gymnasium, they went up in contemplation. At the holodecks, they fixed on Shirik's again, the lids around them narrowing almost mischievously, a nearly devilish smile creeping onto Iryna's lips before it vanished as quickly as it had appeared. When Shirik had finished and a beat of silence settled between them, Iryna sat with the thought for a breath, then leaned back ever so slightly and nodded.
"You make point," she admitted. "But I never one for… kak eto skazat'… beating bushes around? No. Being subtle? To me, direct approach is better. Socially unacceptable? Maybe. Inconsiderate? Sure." She lingered on that last admission for a beat.
"But is not also… em… dropping eaves inconsiderate?" she asked, her tone even.
"When your hearing is as keen as mine, it's impossible not to drop some eaves," she said. "But when something of an intimate nature is being discussed, I have the good manners to focus my attention elsewhere, and certainly not comment upon it." She rose to her feet then, gathering up her dishes. "It was… interesting meeting you. But I have work to return to." With that she headed for the replicator to deposit her used dishes and make her way out of the mess hall.
Iryna took a sip of her red-leaf tea as Shirik rose, listening as their conversation and their meal together seemed to come to an end. The comment about manners was not lost on her, nor ignored, nor taken badly. Iryna had heard similar remarks from friends and from people who were anything but. It never bothered her. It also had not quite changed who she was. With a smile and a nod, she regarded Shirik with appreciation, and if anything a new sense of familiarity. "Da. It was nice to meet you too, Commander. If ever you wish to share meal again. Please." She set her tea down and selected her hasperat.
"Have good shift," she said over her shoulder as Shirik left. Her eyes caught the two crewmen she had embarrassed a few minutes earlier. They caught the motion and looked away at once.
"Nu… ya dolzhna izvinitsya," she whispered to herself.
Then, rising, Iryna took her tray and plate and approached them, plopping down in the third chair at their table and giving each of them a look. "Da. I sit here now and apologize," she said simply, not quite grasping that she had interrupted them.
"So, you go to dinner together? Yes?" she asked, biting her hasperat.