Mission 20 - Answers

[Kersare]

<<Isabel's Quarters, Day 1, 1000>>

The time warp for both the Malinche and Jatrel had gone without incident two hours ago. Once back in their own century, Isabel had immediately raised StarFleet Command and informed them of the Jatrel's non-hostile status. The Jatrel had been asked to remain where they were while StarFleet went over the summary of events that Isabel had provided them; it wasn't a full accounting, but it was enough to begin with. Ten minutes ago, she had been informed that another StarFleet vessel would escort the Jatrel through Federation space.

As for Isabel, she had already asked Will (PNPC) to inform Spacedock of what repairs the Malinche needed. Engineering and Operations had already gotten a fair amount accomplished, but since the ship was there, they might as well take advantage of Spacedock's teams as well, in her opinion. The repairs weren't likely to take all that long; Isabel had a feeling that the various debriefings would take longer.

Other than those who were more intimately involved with the mission, Isabel had already informed them that Shoreleave would commence as soon as docking procedures were complete. The others, including herself, had reports to write and then would be inundated with meetings, no doubt. Isabel hoped to have some time for Shoreleave; though Earth wasn't really her home since she wasn't born there, she had enjoyed her time at Academy in San Francisco and there were other sights to see. Derek (PNPC) was more likely to be intrigued about shoreleave on Earth - it wasn't his home either, but he had grown up on a colony world, not a starship.

In addition to the reports and briefings Isabel would need to address, she also had a few promotions in mind and felt that she should speak with Setak. Based on the initial reports from Nora and Dana (NPC), Setak would most certainly need some attention, to put it mildly. His actions on Earth of the past had been chilling and would have to be addressed. Isabel wouldn't make a final decision before speaking with him...and perhaps consulting with another Vulcan crewmember.

Isabel sighed as she sat down at her console. Finally out of the ancient Earth attire, she had changed into a pair of black loose fitting pants and a powder blue tank top, her hair loose around her shoulders. She knew she had to write her part of the report while everything was fresh in her mind and then fill in with the department heads' reports to compile a master report. The sooner all that was completed, the sooner her crew could address more routine department reports which, of course, she would then have to review as well.

Hopefully StarFleet Command would give the crew time for a real shoreleave. After all that had happened, they could use a break. Isabel closed her eyes for a moment, picturing a walk through a quiet forest. That's where she wanted to be...it was time to get to work so she could get there.

OOC: Tag crew! So, we'll be docked at Spacedock for remaining repairs... All department heads should be compiling reports about the mission and their department status updates. If you want to write a post about your character being in a briefing with StarFleet Command, that's fine (I or someone else could play a SF Command officer) or you can just mention it and enjoy shoreleave.

Depending on how things go, shoreleave will last for about 2 weeks OOC, which should be plenty of time to let your characters relax. If I need to extend it, I will do so for up to a total of 1 month OOC. After that, we're moving on! Hopefully you have plenty of ideas on what to do, but if not, let either me or Zeral know.

[Zeral]

ON:
<<Zeral's Quarters, Day 1, 1300>>

After going through reports all morning, Isabel finally got a break and decided to seek out Nora - something she'd been meaning to do since they had returned to the twenty-fourth century. A lot had happened, certainly, and she wanted to catch up with her friend and Executive Officer. Luckily it seemed that Nora was on a break as well, so Isabel had headed to her quarters. Standing outside, she rang the doorchime.

It was nothing short of a relief to be back onboard the ship again, and Nora was taking some time in between a seemingly endless stretch of report writing to tend to the plants in her quarters. At the sound of the doorchime, she turned her attention momentarily away from her blooming favinit plant. “Come in,” she called out a moment later, carefully setting down her watering can in order to properly greet her guest.

At the sound of Nora's voice, Isabel moved forward and stepped inside as the door swished open. Noting the watering can, she said with a smile, "Hello Nora; I'm sure the plants are glad to be back under your care." She moved further inside, and stood near Nora, taking a look at the plants.

“I’d like to think so,” Nora grinned. “More to the point, I’m happy to have them back under my care. I think I may be more attached to my plants than any grown woman ought to be.” Laughing at herself, she turned slightly on her heels and gestured toward the couch. “But the plants can wait. Why don't you make yourself comfortable?”

Isabel chuckled, "There's nothing wrong with plants or being attached to them. It's nice to see them when you're on a starship." Nodding at Nora's suggestion, Isabel took a seat on the couch.

Following the Captain across the room, Nora made herself comfortable as well, settling in the chair across from her. It felt like ages since she and Isabel had been able to sit down together without some threat to the ship or humanity itself looming over their heads, and she was more than a little cheered by the prospect of just talking with her friend. “It doesn’t take a telepath to see that you’re as happy as I am to be home again,” she observed wryly.

"While twentieth century Earth was quite...interesting...and did have some good non-replicated food, it's nice to be back. Of course, I'm not convinced that my away team had quite as interesting a time as yours, based on the reports I've read," Isabel replied, her more relaxed attitude turning more serious as she rested an arm on the armrest.

“Yes, interesting is one word for it,” Nora nodded, her mood turning a little more somber. “Overall, I couldn’t have asked for a better away team. Dana (NPC) and Setak were remarkably resourceful overall. It was just that last incident where things took a turn for the worse,” she sighed. She hadn’t seen much of Setak since their return to the ship, but she remained concerned for the Vulcan. “If it makes any difference, Setak really was invaluable to our team. I hope that you’ll keep that in mind as you consider the situation."

Nodding, Isabel said, "Well, I imagine living most of his life in the mirror universe would inspire one to be resourceful. I'm glad your team worked out well. And I'm certainly glad we made it back in one piece, though it seems we have a few things to address - in particular Setak, but also a few department head positions. " Truthfully she knew that Will (PNPC) would be just fine in Engineering, and the others in the Science department had been filling in well since Cheetara was transferred off the ship. "Don't worry, I will keep that in mind. Obviously I must address it; Setak doesn't appear to be able to handle his emotions and my first responsibility is to the safety of the crew."

“As it should be,” Nora agreed. “And the issue must be addressed, of course. But I will say that I don’t believe that either Dana or I were ever at any risk, even after he lost control. I did have to all but force him to go to Sickbay, though,” the Betazoid recalled, shaking her head slightly. “He’s not well after what happened. He’s going to need some help to overcome this, and to ensure that it doesn’t happen again in the future.”

"I plan to have a talk with him this afternoon," Isabel answered. "I think I'll have a better feel for the situation once I've had the chance to speak with him. At the very least, he'll need to have some sessions with our Counseling department, but it may require something more drastic. What that might entail, I'm not certain yet. I'll update you once I've spoken with him."

“I would appreciate that, Isabel,” Nora nodded, some of her smile returning. “I wanted to go and speak with him again myself, but I’ve been waylaid by all of the paperwork resulting from our mission. You know, I used to think that keeping up with my paperwork as Chief Counselor was difficult. I had no idea what real paperwork was like, not before going back in time in a Command position.” And if Nora had it bad, then it followed that Isabel’s stack of paperwork would only be worse. “At least we have the opportunity for shoreleave now. After a mission like this one, I think it’s safe to say that we’ve earned it.”

Smiling, Isabel nodded, "I would have to agree with you there...we most certainly have. And I wanted to tell you that from what I've gathered or been told, you did an excellent job with the away team. I know that being a Counselor doesn't necessarily have you...out in the field, so to speak, but you've been doing very well as Executive Officer."

As she straightened up in her chair somewhat, Nora smiled in genuine gratitude. “Thank you for saying that. You don’t know what that means to me, Isabel.” Transitioning from the life of a career counselor to the ship’s XO had required a steep learning curve, and while the Betazoid was giving it her best, it was a little hard to tell how she was doing under the circumstances. “I’m just relieved the overall mission went as smoothly as it did, all things considered.”

"Indeed. Which brings me to the one point of business I actually wanted to...discuss...with you," Isabel said, mostly non-nonchalantly. Slowly she brought up her other hand which, until now, had been resting casually in her lap on top of a small box. Isabel held it out and offered it to Nora. "I feel strongly about recognizing my crew, as I'm sure you realize. So, to recognize your accomplishments and as a way to show my gratitude for your work as Executive Officer here, I've put in a promotion for you to Commander."

Nora remained completely silent as she gingerly took the nondescript box out of Isabel’s hand, brushing her finger lightly across its smooth surface before opening it to reveal the single gold pip inside. By the time her gaze moved away from the box to meet Isabel’s again, she was grinning from ear to ear. “You know, you really are an expert at concealing your emotions sometimes. I didn’t so much as sense your intent, let alone any other feelings that might have given you away,” the Betazoid laughed softly in disbelief. Turning a little more serious, she continued, “This is an unexpected honor, Captain. I can't thank you enough.” Her smile returned a mere moment later. “Although I have to say, my brother is never going to believe that his baby sister well and truly outranks him now.”

"Well to be fair, I wasn't sure of what your reaction would be and as you clearly weren't expecting the promotion, any of my emotions that might have given me away you could likely have written off as being glad to be back in our own century or nerves about the meetings," Isabel said with a smile. "You are very welcome, you most certainly have earned it. I imagine your brother's reaction will be interesting," she added with a wink.

“That’s something of an understatement,” Nora smirked. “My brothers always half expected I’d be a bleeding heart activist living in the wilds of some far away planet, protecting the animals or the trees or something like that. Now that I’m the Executive Officer of a starship, they’re not entirely sure what to make of me.” Sometimes, Nora wasn’t even sure what to make of herself. Her change in direction from Counseling to Command had hardly been expected, but, she had quickly realized, by no means unwelcome.

Isabel pondered what Nora said, "On the one hand, I can almost see where they could get that idea, but actually knowing you, I have a hard time picturing you in that type of role. Of course, I met you in the context of StarFleet, so imagining you chained to a tree just doesn't really fit."

Nora couldn’t help but laugh at that. “I do appreciate nature in my way,” she confirmed, glancing meaningfully around at the not insubstantial collection of plants surrounding them, “but chaining myself to trees… No, that isn’t quite me, is it. Now, animals on the other hand—well, let’s just say that I did show a predilection for them when I was younger, and I was very pleased to help protect the whales of Earth,” she chuckled. “Regardless of all that, though, I believe that I’m right where I belong now.”

Nodding as she followed Nora's gaze, Isabel responded, "Well, I'm certainly glad to hear that. I've had other Executive Officers, but I have a difficult time seeing how I could have everything working so smoothly without you. It's certainly been quite a journey thus far." Over the years, Isabel had had quite the...unique crew...Jaran, Jason, Alexis, Jake, Jack, Cheetara, Mark, P'ayanna...

“It has been at that,” Nora agreed, thinking back on the day she’d first arrived on the ship. She’d had no idea then just how exciting her life onboard the Malinche would be. “You know what they say, though,” she noted with a smile. “An Executive Officer is only as good as her Commanding Officer. Lucky for me I’ve had someone as exemplary and, dare I say, patient as yourself to guide my efforts.”

Isabel smiled, "I appreciate that. I just try to bring out the best in those on my crew." At that mention, her thoughts drifted to Julie (NPC). "Have you had a chance to check on Julie since returning to the ship," she asked gently. It would not be an easy subject, but she felt it was important to address regardless.

Nora’s smile fell somewhat as her thoughts turned to her friend. “I have spent some time with Julie, and I’m happy to report that physically, she’s out of danger. Mentally and emotionally, however…” She sighed, her smile fading completely now. “It will take some time. I understand that Julie will be taking an extended leave of absence to sort through some of these issues. I think she means to spend time with her mother.”

Nodding, Isabel remained quiet a few moments before replying, "Well, the physical danger is the only thing we really have control over. The mental and emotional aspects I'm sure will take time to heal. I hope the leave helps her sort everything out; she has been through a lot. Perhaps she'll be able to rejoin us in the future."

Nora hoped so as well, and said as much. She was still coming to terms with what had happened, but now that Julie was officially going to pull through, it was becoming somewhat easier to view the situation with more hope that everything would work out for her friend. “I’m going to miss her, but I know this is for the best,” the Betazoid remarked, thinking on all the times she and Julie had spent together before Nora’s promotion to XO.

"Taking care of herself is what Julie needs right now. She hasn't had the easiest time since joining us, what with the news of her husband among other things," Isabel commented. Not wanting to dwell on it, she changed the subject, "What about you and Gel? I know when we talked last about him you weren't entirely sure what you might do..."

“Ah yes, Gel,” Nora sighed, her small smile one of helpless bemusement. “Funny that you should ask. The last I heard, Gel is on Earth as we speak, meeting with colleagues at Starfleet Medical. We may finally meet in person.” Nora had been genetically bonded to Gel as a child, and their technical engagement had been kept waiting in the wings as they each pursued their own life paths. But the time was fast approaching when they would have to decide once and for all whether or not they wanted to make their parents’ wish become a reality.

Isabel raised an eyebrow slightly; she knew the situation was...complicated. "Perhaps you two were meant to meet now, for whatever reason. And while it might not be easy, at least some of the uncertainty should be alleviated. It is rather difficult to make a decision without meeting, I would think. You may decide to pursue a relationship with each other or decide against it, but it won't be hanging over your heads anymore."

Looking speculatively at Isabel, Nora slowly nodded. “I think that you may very well be right. We can’t go on like this forever. There aren’t many who can claim to be both single and engaged, and for good reason,” she chuckled. “At any rate, it’s a good thing that genetic bonding is no longer very much in fashion on Betazed, I feel. It may have worked for my parents and their marriage, but I don’t want my children to have to go through this sort of indecision.”

Smiling at Nora's explanation, Isabel answered, "Very true; I imagine being single and engaged could be considered complicated. Betrothed, so you can't really be in another relationship, but having no relationship with the person you're betrothed to... Different things work for different people; some might see it as a time-honored tradition and wish to embrace it, while others, like yourself, have another viewpoint. Since you want to have children, I think that's even more reason to meet Gel - in one way or another you can move forward. No sense in remaining single and engaged forever."

Not for the first time in recent memory, Nora found it rather refreshing to be the one being counseled instead of the one actually counseling. Beyond the novelty of the moment, though, she realized that Isabel really was right. “You’ve convinced me, Isabel,” she smiled. “It’s time to stop avoiding the issue. I’ll contact Gel today and tell him that I really would like to meet. No excuses this time, either.”

"Good," Isabel smiled, "You do realize you'll have to fill me in to some extent once you've met him, don't you? Or perhaps you can introduce me to him, depending on how things go."

“Well of course,” Nora was quick to assure her. “That’s what friends are supposed to do for one another, isn’t it? Help other friends accurately judge the potential of their possible future spouses? Besides,” she added in a slightly more serious manner, “if Gel and I did decide there was a future for us, you're one of the first people that I'd want to meet him."

Isabel grinned, "Absolutely...and I would be happy to help judge the potential of whoever your future spouse might be, Gel or otherwise." She was certainly glad to hear that she would be included. Over the years that Nora had been on the Malinche, the two had grown close, in Isabel's opinion at least. "I will be eager to hear what happens when you meet him. And, at least it won't be a meeting with StarFleet officials about our last mission..."

“Oh dear,” Nora half sighed, half laughed. “Now there’s something to look forward to. At least we actually succeeded in our mission.” It went without saying that, had they failed, the probability of there even being any Starfleet-related meetings, unpleasant as they could be at times, were rather slim. “Perhaps after we each attend to our very important meetings, we should meet again to compare notes.”

"I think that sounds like an excellent idea," Isabel agreed. She would rather forego the additional StarFleet meetings, but they were necessary and really, considering what had happened, she would be more concerned if there weren't meetings. "I imagine I should get going, I have another meeting in a half hour. I'm glad we had a chance to catch up, though...and again, congratulations Nora."

OFF:

A JP brought to you by:

Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

and

[Setak]

ON

<<Setak's Quarters, Day 1, 1345h>>

It had been several hours since the Doctor had returned to the Malinche from Earth and in that time his mood had not improved. He was as soured and dejected as he had been, if not worse. He had snapped over a relatively simple thing and the little bit of serenity he had achieved in his time aboard the Malinche had been utterly obliterated in a split second. Despite all the changes that he had made, all of the ground that he had covered, Setak hated himself more than ever.

He stuffed a few more shirts into his duffel bag at an angry pace as another wave of self loathing rippled through him, each mental malefaction caused his muscles to tense and disobey. The shirt became his past which he stuffed into the bag as deeply as he could to silence it's constant nagging regrets, his trousers became the way he had grown angry at Nora as she chased him down outside of the Transporter bay. So it went as he recalled and replayed all of his life's mistakes leading up to the ones he had committed that day.

Once the bag was full Setak zipped it closed with such force that the small metallic drawing mechanism ripped forth from it's plastic trap. He threw the bag to the corner of the room nearest the doorway and threw himself down onto his couch to stare out at the passing stars and the azure world that lingered in the foreground. Earth. Even this made him angry and so he closed his eyes to seek some solace in sleep.

Visions of the away mission played out through his minds eye as he drifted somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness. As if he were reliving his recent past he recalled dashing out of the transporter room with no words toward his companions. He hadn't wanted to face what he had done and it was easier to ignore the others than to answer to them. Nora had raced after him though and grabbed him by the arm, forcing him to turn. In that instant he made a choice, perhaps the one right choice of the day. Reflexively he had wanted to strike his pursuer down in some primal rage but he had not, he had restrained himself. Zeral was perhaps the closest friend he had on the Malinche and it was fortunate that he had not completely alienated her in one blind moment.

She had demanded that he go to sickbay for an examination after his brawl with the Romulan but he was ashamed of the condition that he was in. His clothing was torn and the Romulan's blood was still caked to his fists and shirt, he looked to be some sort of barbarian, out of place and out of time. He had reluctantly agreed and after taking a moment to clean himself up he had reported to sickbay if only to have his prosthetic 'Human' ears removed and hair returned to it's normal length. Nora had stayed with him for as long as she could, perhaps to comfort him or perhaps to ensure that he was mentally stable enough to leave alone. That's what he truly was, alone.

The thought roused Setak back to consciousness and the Vulcan stared blankly out at the stars. He was certain that his time aboard the Malinche was about to come to an end, the short if eventful career that was never meant to be. With any luck he would find a world to retire to and find some way to live without endangering others, perhaps he would find a place to end the suffering once and for all.

With that the Vulcan stood, retrieved his bag and started out his door only to pause midway. He removed his communicator from his tunic and placed it on the end table beside the couch before starting for the door again but again he was stopped half way.

=^= Kersare to Setak =^=

It was the Captains Voice...

=^= Report to my ready room. =^=

Setak half turned toward where his communicator rest on the end table and with a raised brow pushed himself forward allowing the doors to his quarters to slide shut.

OFF

[Masterson]

ON: [[Mess Hall, USS Malinche, Shoreleave Day 02, 0820 Hours]]

Things had been rather quiet for Michael (PNPC) since they'd returned from stopping the Romulans' plan to alter twentieth century Earth and he'd taken to spending a good portion of his free time in the mess hall of all places. He really didn't mind that there weren't many people around at the moment, though, as it meant more opportunity for him to think.

It had been nearly two years since Michael had convinced Aaron to let him transfer aboard the Malinche as a member of the security department. The assignment seemed like everything the two of them had been talking about since the Academy. They were living aboard ship, serving side-by-side, and spending more time with one another than they had since Aaron's graduation. Yet Michael couldn't help but notice there had been some hesitation on Aaron's part, some concern. It wasn't until after he'd gotten in that barroom brawl that he'd realized why Aaron had seemed so resistant to the idea and it was in that moment that Michael had resolved to do something about the situation.

The young security officer let out a sigh and reached for the half-finished glass of apple cider standing only a few inches away from where his left arm rested atop the table's surface. Of the two of them, he'd always been the more...out there. Aaron was always concerned with playing things safe and taking only the calculated risk. Perhaps that's what made him such a great tactical officer. It had certainly saved Michael from a great deal of trouble on more than one occasion.

The Mess was unusually quiet when Nora walked in, with only a few crewmembers seated here and there and talking quietly amongst themselves. She went through the usual motions of picking up her tray and placing her order for her usual Betazoid fare at the replicators before turning her attention back to the tables to find a place to sit.

While Nora had her choice of any number of empty tables, she didn’t find the prospect of sitting alone very appealing at the moment. Catching sight of one familiar face nearby, the Betazoid decided to venture over. “Hello, Ensign Kepler,” she greeted Michael with a smile. “I'm glad to see that you’re no worse for the wear after your adventures on Earth. Do you mind if I join you for a moment?”

"Of course, commander," Michael replied, quickly placing his glass back on the table and motioning for his superior to join him.

“Wonderful,” Nora replied, proceeding to make herself comfortable in the seat across from the security officer. As she set her tray on the table before her, she noticed belatedly the PADD resting next to Mike. “I’m sorry,” she said with a somewhat worried frown, “I'm not keeping you from any work, am I? I can always find someone else to pester.”

Michael saw the commander's attention linger on the PADD as she took her seat. Though he wasn't sure whether she could actually read what was written on the display, he instinctively reached for the deactivation switch. "Not at all," he replied hastily.

As she observed his quick reach for the deactivation switch, Nora's curiosity was naturally piqued. Though it wasn’t any of her business, she couldn’t help but wonder what the PADD contained that had him so desperate to block it from view. “Is it top secret?” she asked, her tone of voice subtly teasing.

The young security officer's hand hesitated only a few millimeters from the switch as he reconsidered the thought. He knew the commander was a Betazoid which meant it would do him no good to try denying the whole thing. Not only would she have been able to sense the change in his emotions, it couldn't have been that difficult to notice how obvious his reaction had been when she first asked about the PADD. "This...uh..." he said slowly, "...actually isn't work."

Now Nora was well and truly intrigued. As she reached for her plate of uttaberry crepes, she regarded Michael with a curious sort of half smile. “No?” Curious or not, the Betazoid left her inquisition at that. She didn’t truly want to pry if he didn’t want to share, but the invitation was there if he did care to divulge more about the PADD and its contents.

Michael hesistated again. It wasn't as if the PADD contained any sort of state secret per se and a part of him wondered if it might not help to have someone else to give him a little perspective. "Aa...Lieutenant Masterson and I have known each other for awhile now, ever since we were in elementary school," he explained, "and now we've been seeing each other since...well, for like seven years..."

Her uttaberry crepes lay forgotten as Nora attempted to follow Michael’s train of thought, sans telepathy, of course. “Ensign,” she said with a small laugh, “What precisely are you hiding on that PADD? I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m dying to know now, and it seems to me that you’re not opposed to sharing. It’s entirely up to you, though,” she quickly qualified, not wanting the security officer to feel strong armed into revealing the mysteries of the PADD just because she was his superior officer.

There was a momentary pause before Michael said quietly, "I'm thinking of asking Aaron to marry me."

Eyes going wide, Nora carefully set down the fork she’d been holding, her smile growing even brighter. “That’s lovely, Michael,” she said sincerely, forgoing formality in the wake of his confession. “Really, that’s simply wonderful,” she enthused, though she was careful to keep her voice down. It wouldn’t do for anyone to overhear their conversation, particularly since it had turned to such a personal matter. "How long have you been thinking about this?"

"I don't know," he replied with a shrug, "a couple of months, maybe." The truth was he'd been thinking about it on and off since Aaron had reprimanded him for getting involved in the brawl and there had probably been stirrings of the question even before he'd set foot aboard the Malinche. For one reason or another, though, he'd never actually vocalized it until now.

“It’s a very big step for any relationship,” Nora nodded. “It can take a little while, just to make sure that it’s right, or at least the right time.” Realizing that her food was getting cold, the Betazoid finally took a moment to have a quick bite of her crepes. “Have you and Aaron talked about marriage before?”

"We've sorta talked about it," Michael answered slowly as he ran his finger along the upper edge of the PADD's display, "I mean...we've been together seven years already. There have been times when we've talked about what we think the future will be like for us. During the Academy, it was being able to serve aboard the same ship together. Now that we're on the Malinche..."

As Michael lapsed into momentary silence, Nora offered him an encouraging smile. While she was tempted to fill in the blanks left by his unfinished statement, the counselor in her wanted to give him the opportunity to fully vocalize his feelings. "Now that you're on the Malinche..." she gently prodded.

"...it's come up once or twice," Michael said.

Nodding, Nora leaned her elbows casually on the table while she considered Michael’s apparent dilemma. “And did Aaron seem receptive to the idea?”

Michael thought about the commander's question for a moment. There was a general sense he and Aaron had been able to move past most of the uncomfortableness that came with Aaron being his superior, though there were still occasional moments when Aaron would seem more distant. "Yeah," Michael replied thoughtfully, "At least it sounded like he was...is...receptive to it. I feel like it's more of an abstract concept at this point, like we can talk about it all we want, but if neither of us actually does anything about it..."

“I see what you mean,” Nora said thoughtfully. “As I said, marriage is no small step. There’s a lot to consider even under the best of circumstances. That being said, though,” she added with a supportive smile, “it seems to me that you and Aaron are very much in love. You’ve been together for a long time, and it sounds like you’ve had your fair share of life experiences with one another, both good and bad. If Aaron’s the one you want to spend your life with, and if Aaron feels the same way about you, then perhaps that’s all there really is to it. One of you just has to be brave enough to take that final leap and...what's the human phrase? 'Pop the question'?"

OFF

A Joint Mission Post by

Lieutenant Commander Nora Zeral
Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

and

Ensign Michael Kepler (PNPC)
Security Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
Played by: Lt Masterson

[Masterson]

ON: [[Corridor - Deck Three, USS Malinche, Shoreleave Day 02, 1308 Hours]]

It had been several days since the Malinche returned from their little adventure in the twentieth century and things were already starting to feel as if they were mostly back to what one might have considered normal. Michael (PNPC) had spent five or six hours being debriefed by the Department of Temporal Investigations shortly after their return only to have been called back a second time to clarify a few points for them. However, the conversation which seemed to stick most with the young security officer was one which he'd had with Commander Zeral. Hearing her perspective on his thoughts of finally proposing to Aaron had certainly raised a few questions. At the same time, speaking with the commander had also affirmed a few things in his mind and made him realize that if he really wanted this to happen, he was going to need to take a more active role.

[[Turbolift]]

Having returned from yet another round of questions regarding the Malinche's...mission detour to the past, Isabel found herself wishing that she could just relax and enjoy some shoreleave time. She knew, though, that she would end up in a number of additional meetings - not to mention that she needed to keep an eye on repairs. In fact, that was to be her next stop; she had just been in her office, exchanging PADDs. Once the last passenger exited the turbolift, the doors started to close as she leaned against the side wall.

"Hold the door," a voice called out.

"Computer, hold turbolift," Isabel ordered as she heard the voice. The doors stopped where they were and were about to open further when the man slipped in between them.

Michael had still been a few yards away when the turbolift had arrived and begun discharging a few passengers. He rushed across the open distance hoping whoever was inside would hold the car for him. It wasn't until he'd slipped between the two halves of the turbolift door that he realized the only other occupant just happened to be Captain Kersare, the one person he'd been hoping to speak with.

Raising her eyebrow slightly, Isabel chuckled softly and smiled at the young security officer, "Hello Ensign. You almost missed the turbolift...where were you heading?"

"To find you, actually," Michael admitted, hoping the response didn't sound too awkward. He'd only interacted with the captain on a handful of occasions since coming aboard the Malinche and most of that time had been during their away mission to twentieth century Earth. There had never really been any reason or opportunity for him to do so otherwise. Michael was just a security officer which meant there were at least three levels between him and the captain in the chain-of-command. To have actively sought her out, especially so soon after their mutual experience in the past, must have sounded somewhat strange at the very least.

Though she was a bit surprised initially that Michael was seeking her out, it wasn't that surprising overall. In some cases a crewmember had concerns or questions that they wanted to bring directly to her and honestly she was glad they felt they could do that. It was a change from several years ago when she wanted to keep everyone at a distance in case something happened to them, like with her husband. "Well, it appears you came to the right place, interestingly enough. Did you want to speak in my office or do you mind talking on my way to Engineering?"

"Wherever you're headed is fine, I suppose," Michael replied as he straightened the wrinkles out of his uniform jacket, "I'm hoping this won't take too long."

Nodding, Isabel said, "Computer, resume turbolift...Deck 11." She turned to face Michael, "What can I do for you, Ensign?" Until he told her, she was at a loss as to what he wanted to speak to her about.

Michael knew he would only have the captain's undivided attention for a few moments as the lift resumed its journey toward Main Engineering and although he was comfortable enough broaching the subject with her, it wasn't exactly something he wanted to be public knowledge yet. He waited until after he was sure the lift had started moving again before he spoke. "Actually, it's about Aaron...Lieutenant Masterson," Michael said.

"Oh?" Isabel asked, turning to look at the young man. It certainly wasn't surprising...but she was curious as to why Michael would be approaching her about Aaron. "What about him?"

It would have been naive of Michael to think the captain knew nothing of his relationship with Aaron. He'd heard and seen how much Aaron had agonized over the matter before approaching the captain about having Michael transferred aboard the Malinche as a Security Officer. Their relationship had certainly played a role in the behavioral incident involving himself and an alien bar patron several months back, not to mention it would have been difficult to hide their relationship on a vessel this size, even if they'd wanted to. "He and I go back quite a ways, back to when we were both in elementary school, and we've been together for almost eight years now," Michael explained, "I was planning to propose to him while we're here at Earth, but I've run into a bit of a snag..."

Isabel raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised, but quickly smiled. Really, she shouldn't be that surprised, but since she didn't regularly have personal conversations, so to speak, with Aaron...let alone Michael, she wasn't aware that they had discussed marriage. Turning her attention back to the comment at hand she asked, "What kind of snag?"

"Well...," Michael said with a chuckle, "I think you and I both know he tends to put a lot of effort into his work, ma'am."

"That's certainly true," Isabel agreed, chuckling a little as well. "He's one of the hardest working people I know... So I take it that you're either concerned about or having a hard time getting him away from his work in order to propose to him while here?"

Michael nodded somewhat sheepishly. It seemed like such a silly thing to be asking his Commanding Officer, that she order his boyfriend to take some off so he could actually propose to him. "I can't really think of a better way to do it without making him think something's going on," Michael explained, "I mean, I suppose I could kidnap him, but that would kind of send the wrong message, wouldn't it?"

Amused, she smiled, "I imagine that kidnapping isn't really what you're going for. But, I think I can help you out. While he may not entirely want to, I imagine his sense of duty is holding him back from taking shoreleave time. Between the reports and meetings...well, it's not easy. To be honest, I would likely be doing what I could to ensure he got some shoreleave regardless, but this makes it even more important. So, I'll be sure he goes, one way or another. When are you planning this for?"

"I was hoping for sometime this evening," Michael admitted, leaning back against one side of the turbolift, "but if you're busy..."

"No, no. Well, I am busy, but part of that was going to involve me stopping in to see Mr. Masterson anyway...so I can incorporate my suggestion, or if need be, order, for him to take shoreleave. After that, it'll be up to you," Isabel said. "Will that help? Is there anything else I could do to help further?"

The lift began to slow and Micheal knew they would be arriving at Main Engineering momentarily. Luckily for him, the young Security Officer had gotten the captain's cooperation in his little scheme, which was all he'd been looking for in the first place. "I think that would do it," Michael said with a smile, "thank you, captain."

Isabel returned the smile, "You're quite welcome, Ensign. And good luck, though I don't think you'll need it." She didn't want to put the cart before the horse and congratulate him now, so a good luck would have to suffice. Mostly Isabel was happy for them, though the official side of her wondered how it would affect their work. Thus far, they had shown they were able to handle the relationship though, so she wasn't too worried. For now though, she had some things to take care of in Engineering.

OFF

A Joint Mission Post by:

Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

and

Ensign Michael Kepler (PNPC)
Security Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A
Played by: Lt Masterson

[Masterson]

ON: [[Chief Security/Tactical Officer's Office, USS Malinche, Shoreleave Day 02, 1857 Hours]]

Aaron Masterson usually considered himself to be an organized individual. He followed a pretty regular routine and at least tried to keep his workspace from getting too cluttered. However, their little adventure in the twentieth century and, although the captain had ordered everyone to take advantage of the opportunity for shoreleave, attending to his own reports and sitting through debriefings with the Department of Temporal Investigations had caused a few things to pile up.

It felt as if he'd made some progress, though. A short stack of PADDs to one side of his desk contained mostly personal messages from family and friends. There was a letter from his sister, Sonya (PNPC), letting him know she was still serving aboard the Pandora and had officially been promoted to Chief Science Officer. Another PADD contained a message from his parents asking if Michael (PNPC) and he would be dropping by for a visit while they were in the neighborhood. A similar offer of hospitality had come from Michael's parents as well, though he hadn't had a chance to discuss either with Michael yet.

Aaron's primary focus at this point was in taking care of his official after-action reports. Shortly after their return, he had started consulting with his counterparts in Engineering and Operations on ways they might be able to prevent something like what the Romulan saboteur had attempted from happening again. The knowledge that someone had come so close to potentially causing serious harm to the ship without anyone realizing it still weighed quite heavily on Aaron's mind. Because the individual involved was a foreign national, Aaron also needed to submit a separate report on the incident to Starfleet Security as well as Starfleet Intelligence. He could only imagine what was being expected of Captain Kersare.

With her duties mostly taken care of for the day, Isabel was glad to finally have something pleasant to do. In fact, after her discussion with Michael earlier, her mood had improved and she was actually looking forward to meeting with Aaron. Not wanting to give anything away, she kept a straight face as she approached the door to Aaron's office and rang the doorchime.

"Enter," Aaron called from where he lay stretched out on his office couch, his attention divided between the large PADD across his lap and a smaller one in his right hand. The moment he saw who it was entering his office, however, he immediately pushed himself into a seated position, nearly knocking the PADD on his lap to the deck as he did so. "Captain," he exclaimed with surprise, "I...wasn't expecting..."

As she entered, Isabel surveyed the PADDs on his desk. "This looks familiar...dare I ask which pile is the 'completed' pile?"

"Uhh..." Aaron said somewhat bemusedly, "I'm afraid that'd be the shortest one."

Nodding, she grinned slightly. "If only the reports would write themselves... I hope I've not come at a bad time, Mr. Masterson, if I have, I could come back a little later." Isabel knew from experience that being interrupted while in the middle of writing a report was generally not good, but she did want speak with him.

"No, no...not at all," Aaron replied quickly as he collected the two PADDs he'd been working with and rose to his feet, "Please, have a seat." He certainly hadn't been expecting a personal visit from the captain, especially what with everything else taking place that required her attention. They'd spoken briefly following their return from the twentieth century. Reports and debriefings, however, had taken up much more of their respective time since.

Isabel took a seat and said, "Thank you." She wasn't entirely sure where to begin at first, but decided to start with business. "How have the debriefings gone thus far?"

"I think now I understand why everyone tends to avoid Temporal Investigations," Aaron said with a chuckle, "Mike said it was as if their sense of humor's been surgically removed...and I kinda have to agree with him." He placed the two PADDs on one corner of his desk before stepping around it so as to access the replicator. "Starfleet Security was interested in hearing more about our saboteur, of course, which naturally led to a conversation with Starfleet Intelligence," he explained, "would you like anything?"

Shaking her head, she replied, "No, thank you.... I'm not particularly surprised that both were interested in the saboteur. I suppose we came back with a little something for everyone, so to speak." All of the debriefings she had with Temporal Investigations were rather intense - partly because she knew more than the others considering her visitor. "What about the reports? How are they coming along?"

"Cocoa, hot," Aaron said to the replicator. A few of his friends had tried getting him into coffee when they were in high school, but he'd quickly learned neither the flavor nor the temperature it was served at really agreed with him and ended up spitting it right back out again. Cocoa had been his go-to choice in anticipation of long working hours ever since.

The familiar sparkling effect filled the small replicator and Aaron waited until it had fully materialized before carefully removing the steaming mug from the dispenser. He blew two steady breaths across the surface of the dark liquid to begin the cooling process as he turned back toward his waiting guest. "Slowly but surely," he replied with a half smile, "I figure I'll have most of the standard reports finished within the next few hours or so. Some of the more involved ones might take another day or two."

Isabel nodded, "I imagine you'll be one of the first ones done with your reports then. Which brings me to something else I wanted to speak with you about... You've been with us on the Malinche for about three years now. I know it was an adjustment - becoming Chief Security/Tactical and taking on the additional responsibilities while familiarizing yourself with the Prometheus-class. And of course, you were later appointed as Second Officer as well. I must say that I've been quite impressed with you. You've been an important asset to myself, this ship, and our success."

"For that reason," she said as she let the small box slide from the palm of her hand to her fingertips, "you are receiving a promotion to the rank of Lieutenant, with all the privileges and duties accorded that rank." Isabel smiled as she placed the box on Aaron's desk.

Aaron carefully set his mug down on one part of his desk before picking up the small box Kersare had placed there. He studied it a moment, tracing the seam with his fingers as he turned it over a few times, before opening the lid to find a single gold pip inside. It reminded Aaron a little of his first time ever having met with Captain Kersare when she had given him the doubly surprising news of an appointment as Chief Security/Tactical Officer and a promotion to Lieutenant JG. "I don't know what to say, ma'am," he breathed, closing the lid of the box and looking over at Kersare.

Grinning, Isabel chuckled, "I don't believe you knew what to say the first time either, Lieutenant. Hopefully if you're with us long enough to get promoted again you'll think of something." She watched him a moment before continuing, "You deserve it. Your work here has certainly not gone unnoticed. Congratulations."

"Thank you," Aaron replied, slowly regaining his composure, "I must say, it's not what I expected...in a good way, of course."

"Well, it's not as fun if you're expecting it, you know," she said, resting her hands in her lap. "You're welcome, Lieutenant. I realize I've been asking about the reports and meetings, but you are planning on taking some time for shoreleave, I hope. Obviously the official items need taken care of, but they aren't going anywhere...and we will be, once the Malinche is back in shape."

Aaron glanced at the various PADDs he still needed to get through and his smile faded somewhat. "If it's all the same to you, ma'am, I'd rather get all this sorted out before I start worrying about time off," he said slowly, "I'm sure it won't take me much more than a day or two."

Isabel looked at him, studying his face for a moment. She was not surprised in the least that he wanted to just get through it all. "I believe the point of time off is not to worry. You've been working very hard, Lieutenant, and there's there's nothing wrong with taking some time off. At the very least, why don't you take the evening off to celebrate your promotion?"

"I..." Aaron paused. He knew what the captain was telling him was true. There was no reason he shouldn't have been able to take some time off, even if it was just the evening. It wasn't as if these reports were going anywhere anytime soon. On the other hand, she had just told him how much she appreciated the time and energy he was putting into his work.

Seeing how torn Aaron seemed to be, Isabel looked over at him. "You don't seem entirely sold on the idea... Perhaps this would help - as my first order to you following your promotion, I order you to take the night off to celebrate." She gave him a small smile, and waited to see if what she said helped him make the right decision.

Aaron couldn't help but smile a little at the captain's response. It was no surprise that she had noticed the hesitation with which he had responded to the idea of taking time off. He had a feeling there wouldn't be any serious repricussion for failing to abide by the "order". This was just her way of giving Aaron a justifiable reason for getting out of the office for the rest of the evening. "Five more minutes," he pleaded.

Isabel did her best to look stern and replied, "Now, Lieutenant....don't make me contact your own security team to escort you out of your office." She raised an eyebrow and waited for his reply.

"Okay...okay," Aaron said, holding up his hands in defeat, "I'll just straighten a few things and then I'm out of here...promise."

Pondering his new promise, Isabel looked at him closely, "Alright, but just straightening up a little... If I send someone from Security to stop by in a half hour, they better not find you here." She smiled as she stood, "Enjoy your night off."

"Thank you, captain," Aaron replied. He waited until she had disappeared back into the corridor before turning his attention to the various PADDs and other items requiring his attention. While he doubted the captain had been serious about sending someone to stop by, Aaron wasn't about to push his luck at this point. "Straighten up a little and then get out of here," he repeated to himself, "right..."

OFF

A Joint Mission Post by:

Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche

and

[Aurora]

<San Francisco, Earth, Malinche shore leave, day 5, 1220>

Aurora had almost finished packing her travel bag when the desk comm chimed. She headed over and accessed it and smiled when she saw it was a personal message. She knew the date and she had a feeling she knew who it was. She opened it up and was rewarded with her own face, albeit older.

Aurora 0406/C, “Kelly” was smiling at her from the view screen, her green hair was done up in a high pony tail and she looked a little manic. Likely she was a little drunk. Which meant this was being recorded during Auroracon. Sure enough, Aurora could hear muffled music in the background and it looked like a hotel room beyond Kelly’s head and torso.

There were fifty two clone archetypes in Caramaean society, in some cases there were millions, in others there were far fewer. The Auroras were one of the less populace clone archetypes because there was not much call for space scientists. Sure, you needed astronavigators, astronomers, astrophysicists and teachers, but ultimately there were only a few thousand Auroras. For this reason Auroras had developed perhaps a bit of an insular mindset, an “us versus them” outlook sometimes. But it also meant when most of the Auroras wanted to meet it was actually feasible.

The first Auroracon was held eighty two years ago, only a few hundred had shown up. Now some ninety percent of all Auroras gathered at a hotel and pretty much took it over. What followed was a sort of family reunion as stories were exchanged, lots of alcohol consumed. And there was always the infamous incident of a pair of Auroras slipping off to do “the unthinkable”. It reminded Aurora of that old, old joke; what do you call two clones having sex? Masturbation.

Aurora had not been able to get back home in years and she missed Auroracon, even though The Bureaucracy had made her feel like a pariah. Regardless of how those officious bastards treated her Aurora knew her family would never abandon her; even the most indifferent Aurora, the most unsympathetic to her desire to try a different career had expressed outrage at The Bureaucracy’s attempts to intercept their mail, coming and going! After the first few years The Bureaucracy had simply given up; if it wasn’t their offices being flooded with complaints from persistent Auroras it was The Federation making discreet inquiries regarding a supposedly free society needing to filter private messages. Thank goodness for Tor, Aurora thought not for the first time.

“Hey, Dis!” Kelly said a little too loudly. At fifty seven years of age Kelly still looked damn good; Auroras aged pretty well, “I hope you are staying out trouble,” she giggled, “We’re not! There have been seven arrests here so far; I think we’re trying to break the record from eight years back. It’s been a pretty good turnout. The girls miss you, of course," she meant her close sister-clones: Mo, Retro and Umbra, "Oh, The Quentins wanted to thank you for getting them those movies for them, they really appreciated it!”

The Quentins were a weird bunch, a group of Auroras who were hardcore fans of some Old Earth motion picture director, Retro knew them through their SCA (Society for Creative Anachronism) group, that bizarre bunch utterly in love with all things Earth, pre-warp. The Quentins were always dressing in black suits, delivering obscure quotes and calling each other names like “Mister White”. They all lived together in one big house In Central City on Gamma Continent (Aurora decided the original colonists had been terrible at naming things.). Aurora had managed to access Earth archives and found two films not in their collection. The Bureaucracy intercepted them, of course, to make certain the movies did not contain any “subversive material”, but ultimately they found nothing objectionable. Too objectionable, at any rate.

Kelly rambled on about some other stuff, promising there were going to be other vidletters attached to one after hers. Then she seemed to sober up a bit.

“Dis,” she said, “Dis, The Facility called me last week.”

When one talked about The Facility they were referencing only one place: the cloning facility, essentially the Mother and Father of them all.

“You know how they have everything planned decades in advance. Well, you know how they have been ramping up the number of Auroras; the military wants more navigators and space scientists.”

Of course they did. They met The Federation, discovered the universe was a much scarier place than they thought and instead of joining a powerful political and military structure The Dukes instead insisted on beefing up their own navy. Even though they were decades behind. Aurora knew that now from firsthand experience and she had frankly told The Bureaucracy so, giving them as much information Starfleet had allowed. So the Dukes wanted to make a faux Starfleet, a Starfleet in miniature. Idiots. The Leonards must have been going crazy trying to reinvent the wheel just by observation. Sure, you saw a Galaxy class and knew it was possible to build one. But how did you construct a warp engine large enough to move and power it? How did you build structural integrity fields efficient enough to make sure everyone inside did not get turned to jelly the moment it hit light speed?

Kelly said, “Dis, it’s been suggested to me, unofficially, that they might put pressure on you to come back to mentor a new Aurora. They say they have been considering it recently but…” she scowled, “I think they put this whole thing in motion months after you emigrated.”

Aurora paused the vid and settled back. That…actually made perfect sense. They would make her feel guilty, draw her back, and then they would pick her brains regarding starship design. Those…

She took a calming breath. Leave it to The Bureaucracy to find a way to turn this to their advantage. Now all she had to do was come slinking back in three years to mentor a little Aurora of her own. And in the meantime they would put her on some construction project. In an advisory capacity, of course. Heaven forbid she would be in charge of a bunch of Leonards! And it would fail miserably; the Leonards did not want her as an engineer in the first place, why would they listen to thing one she said? She would always be an inferior engineer in their eyes based solely on genetics.

Three years. Where was she planning on being in three years? She hadn’t really thought too hard on it. She was a newly minted CEO, where did she go from there? Back to Utopia Planetia in charge of construction on a starship? Head of some R&D project (That actually sounded exciting; she was certain her tri-nacelle design theories had merit.)? Command of a starship? For the past several years Aurora had been jumping from one goal to the next, not really thinking about The Big Picture. Where did she want to be in three years, really?

Aurora knew Kelly had not meant to bring her mood down, that she wanted to warn her ahead of time. At least now she knew what The Bureaucracy had in store for her. Was that their plan all along, to let Kelly find out and to let her stew for three years? She started up the film again. Kelly pressed a button and a new vid ran, this one of a group of seven year olds, several of them Auroras. Kelly said, “The one in the foreground is Aurora 0410/D. That…that is the one they want to assign to you.”

“Oh, Kelly,” Aurora breathed. Was she complicit in this? Or was she just being manipulated? Aurora shut the vid off, not wanting to think her big sister would do such a thing. Kelly had been so supportive. But what if Kelly missed her? What if she had second thoughts?

Aurora sighed, deflated. She would watch the rest of the vid later. For now she had to get ready to report to her new assignment. And to get the image of a smiling seven year old girl out of her mind…

[Zeral]

ON:
<<USS Malinche, Zeral's Quarters, Shoreleave Day 2, 1415>>

“Go for Talia (NPC).”

At the sight of her old friend’s grinning visage before her, Nora couldn’t help but grin in return. No one had quite so irrepressible a smile as Talia Hooper, Nora’s former Academy roommate, fellow counselor, and lifelong friend. Even though they were speaking to each other via subspace, Nora could almost feel her friend’s boundless energy filling her quarters. “Now there’s a sight for sore eyes. I thought for a moment you weren’t going to answer.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Nor,” Talia chided. “You call so rarely, I wasn’t about to ignore it. Besides, I’m between appointments right now. I have some time to spare, for once.”

“Wonder of wonders,” Nora chuckled, remembering how busy and hectic her schedule as a counselor had been in years past. In terms of work, though, she was certainly no less busy now as the ship’s Executive Officer. “A little birdie told me that you’ve been promoted, Dr. Hooper. Congratulations are in order.”

Talia rolled her eyes, but her pleased smile was evidence enough that she was happy to share the news. “Let me guess: Doreit (NPC) told you? That girl just loves to share all sorts of news, good and bad.”

Smiling fondly, Nora shook her head. “No, not Doreit this time. I recently heard from Laaris, if you can believe it. She filled me in on all the goings-on in our old group. That’s how I know that you’re Chief Counselor now—a well-deserved promotion, by the way—and Riley’s (NPC) been made a leading researcher at the Estora Clinic on Filonis V. Very exciting news across the board, I’d say.”

“Forget about our promotions, Nor,” Talia said airily. “Let’s talk about your promotion. Executive Officer? Little Nora Zeral? Hell has indeed frozen over.”

Nora couldn’t help but laugh at that. She’d always been considered the sweetest, most harmless member of their close-knit group of friends. Obviously, none of them had seen her punch a Romulan before, as she recently had done. “I think it’s safe to say that no one, least of all myself, saw it coming. But it’s oddly fitting. I find that I’m…content.”

Talia nodded, her look speculative. “I can see that. And, all teasing aside, I actually think that you have Command potential. You always have; we just never looked at it that way.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” Nora hedged. “And I don’t know that I have any desires to ever take command of my own ship. But here and now, it works.” Although it had been one of the more turbulent months of her life, the Betazoid really couldn’t deny that she was content with her lot in life. Now, however, she was considering changing things, which brought her back to the reason for her call. “Talia, do you remember the last time we spoke in person, when I told you about the man I’m technically engaged to?”

With a quirk of her eyebrow, Talia nodded again. “The whole genetic bonding thing? That’s a hard one to forget, especially considering you kept it a secret from me for the vast majority of our friendship.” Before Nora had a change to speak, Talia pushed on, “I can see that look in your eyes. What’s happening? Are you dumping him, or marrying him?”

“Neither, at the moment,” Nora replied. “But I am meeting him finally, at least in person. We’ve actually been talking for the past few months, if you can believe it.”

“You have? That’s great!” Talia enthused. “What’s he like? Is the conversation good? Is there compatibility there, do you think?”

Laughing, Nora held up her hands in a plaintive gesture. “Slow down, Talia. I’ll try to answer your questions as best as I can. He’s…well, he’s not like anyone I’ve ever met. He’s intelligent and confident, and he has kind eyes.” At Talia’s droll look, Nora felt the need to defend himself. “Kind eyes are a quality that I highly prize, I’ll have you know. Anyway, he’s not overly eager to please, which is always nice, and you can tell that he’s comfortable in his own skin.”

Talia listened to all of this with a look that could almost be described as blank. “That’s all good and well, but… What does he look like?”

“Is that what you really wanted to know? I should hardly be surprised,” Nora smirked, thinking of Talia’s dating habits back at the Academy. “Like many Betazoid men of my acquaintance, he’s tall, dark, and handsome. But there’s something more there too, I think.”

Talia looked speculative again. “So after all this time, you’re finally meeting the man who may or may not be the Betazoid of your dreams. Why the change, Dr. Zeral?”

Her friend always knew when to ask the serious questions, Nora mused to herself. “When my parents died, I realized that nothing was certain in our mortal lives,” she said openly. “Everything we have, no matter how precious it may be, can be lost in a moment. And with those sorts of thoughts weighing heavily on my mind, all that I wanted was to hold onto what I did still have: my friends, my career, my brothers, and even my sight unseen engagement. I had never been especially enthusiastic about the genetic bonding, but it’s what my old-fashioned parents wanted. Leaving the possibility of marrying Gel in the future made me feel like my parents were still with me in a way.”

When Talia remained silent, Nora took the cue to continue. “The thing is, Talia, my parents have been dead for over ten years now. I followed my career, and it has brought me great fulfillment, but I’ve allowed myself to live in the shadow of this engagement for far too long. I can’t hide from the future forever. It may bring me pain, and it may bring me heartache, but that’s just life. One way or another, I have to decide. Either Gel and I agree to fulfill our parents’ wishes, or we finally part ways.”

“No more hiding,” Talia said.

“Not anymore,” Nora agreed with a small smile. “And besides, even if you look past all of that, I can’t deny that I still have hopes of falling in love. I always thought it would happen in a more everyday sort of way, but who’s to say that I won’t fall in love with Gel?”

“I don’t know if you’re a fan of statistics,” Talia said thoughtfully, “but I do know that there’s supposed to be a high percentage rate of arranged marriages that turn out very successfully. Even in our modern world, it just works for some people. I don’t think there’s anything wrong if you turn out to be one of those people, Nor. God, I’d even call the whole thing romantic. Just go for it already. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain, if you ask me.”

“You really do have a way of seeing me through these major life decisions,” Nora smiled, feeling more sure of her decision than ever just for having talked some of it through with her friend. “Thank you, Talia. I’ll call you tomorrow to tell you all about it, all right?”

“Perfect,” Talia readily agreed. “I’ve got an appointment coming, and you need to get prettied up for your big date. Just be yourself tonight, all right? If he doesn’t love Nora Zeral just the way she is, he’s crazy, and you can be done with him. Besides,” she added with a mischievous look, “you can always fall back on Riley.”

Nora laughed out loud, shaking her head at the very idea. She’d established long ago that Riley, good friend or no, was not her type. “I’m hanging up now, Talia. Until tomorrow.” Good on her word, the Betazoid waved to a laughing Talia and ended the transmission. Sitting back in her chair with a smirk, Nora felt butterflies of excitement. One way or another, it really was time to face her destiny. Whether or not that included one Gel Mellix, at least she would soon find out.

OFF:

[McKeon]

ON:

<<Spacedock, Shoreleave Day 2: 1500>>

Alister stepped off the turbo lift on Spacedock and made his way to a window where he had a good view of the Malinche. He had read the reports that had been filed about the ship’s recent mission to Earth and had even gotten his hands on a sanitized version of the subspace report filed by the Romulan Captain to her superiors. Both reports had made for an interesting read, and he silently agreed that the mission struck him as a rouge operative rather than a sanctioned mission. Of course that hadn’t stopped Intelligence from deciding on certain personal moves; he had been on Earth briefing Intelligence Command about a recent operation that had been conducted against the Klingons when the Malinche’s report had been filed. A short time later Alister had found himself with a new set of orders giving him the Malinche’s CIO spot and to get his butt over to the Romulan border and make damn sure it was just a rouge operator and not a larger plot.

Heading for a small café on the station he pulled out his PADD making a few notes on changes he wanted done to the ship’s Intel space and his office. He always made sure to pull strings when the ship was in Spacedock to get a few extra creature comforts installed for his department. It made the long days and nights stuck in the same office far more bearable and most did appreciate the opportunity to make their work space feel more like home. Firing off a message with the changes to the desk and chairs in the Intel space, along with instructions on where to find certain items he wanted in his office to on old chief petty officer on the station. Sitting down with a cup of coffee as he waited for a response, he began to call up the files on the ship’s senior officers and made himself familiar with their general background and interests.

He had just finished reading over the file of the XO when his PADD chimed with a response from the chief. He grumbled to himself about Earth and how overpriced everything was as he sent an acknowledgement back that the Chief could expect three bottles of Romulan ale within the hour to appear in his office. Another message sent the bottles on their way and he turned his attention back to the files he had been reading, making a mental note to see if he couldn’t arrange to get another case of Romulan ale sent his way during the ship’s patrol along the border, from some old friends who might even be able to shed some light on this Romulan operative.

OFF:

[Zeral]

ON:
<<Angelina’s Waterfront Restaurant and Bar, San Francisco, Shoreleave Day 2, 1805>>

At a secluded table overlooking the waterfront, Dr. Gel Mellix (PNPC), lately of Betazed, sat looking contemplatively over the bay. Behind him he could hear the voices of other diners, and he smiled to himself as he heard a man’s raucous laughter, sensing even from where he sat the cheerful, ebullient emotions emanating from many of the restaurant’s patrons.

It was curious to compare their emotions with his own. In this particular moment, he wouldn’t describe himself as particularly cheerful. He’d arrived at the restaurant with time to spare, which left him with plenty of opportunity to observe his own emotions while he waited for the rest of his party to join him. There was a sense of excitement in what he was about to do, but a lingering feeling of unease as well. After all, it wasn’t everyday that a man met his future wife in person for the first time—if, of course, they decided that they would go through with their engagement in the first place. And after so many years living with the genetic bonding in the back of his mind, he wasn’t sure which unnerved him more: the idea of going through with the marriage, or the idea of calling it off for good.

First, though, he had to actually meet the woman, at least in person. It had come as something of a shock when Nora Zeral first contacted him some months before. Since the death of Nora’s parents over ten years ago, they’d both agreed to keep the possibility of their engagement alive, but neither of them had ever made any serious moves to see it through to its conclusion. It wasn’t until the last two years or so that Gel had even begun to think seriously about it, and even then only on select occasions.

It was Nora’s brother who had put the idea into his head in the first place. Ironically enough, though he had never met Nora in person, he knew Soren Zeral (NPC) rather well. They, at least, lived on the same planet, which did help facilitate a friendship. He and Nora, on the other hand, had never been in the same place at the same time—until today.

They had, however, been in contact for months now, speaking over subspace transmission when time allowed, carefully getting to know each other despite the significant distance that separated them. She was charming and intelligent, and he could tell that she was accustomed to looking after herself as well as those around her. It didn’t hurt that she was beautiful, too. Though Gel wasn’t a particularly shallow man when it came to outward appearances, he couldn’t deny that Nora's pretty features and quick smile only added to the growing attraction.

For all he knew, she was the woman of his dreams. Why, then, was this all so damned nerve-wracking? In an absolute worst-case scenario, they would meet, discover they didn’t actually suit, and go their separate ways. Soren had given Gel his assurances that their friendship would stand regardless, and Nora herself had said from the start that there would be no hard feelings.

Looking out once more over the bay, Gel sighed heavily. At least, at the end of the day, there would be some closure to this entire scheme. Not many of his acquaintances had lived their entire lives with a carefully selected fiancé waiting in the wings. The Betazoids were a strange species at times, Gel mused. Although genetic bonding was growing less and less popular on Betazed, many families from the Noble Houses still stubbornly stuck to the tradition. Gel himself belonged to the Tenth House of Betazed and, although he was only a second cousin to the current matriarch, he had therefore been genetically bonded to Nora as a young boy.

A burst of something very close to panic unfurled in his chest. Was this really what he wanted? Any of this? He wasn’t so sure that he even needed a wife, not at this point in his life, and he certainly didn’t need the drama surrounding the entire affair to begin with. It wasn’t too late to back out, even now. He could say that he had an important meeting, or that he had been called back to Betazed to help oversee a complicated surgical procedure. Both were viable excuses that were based in reality and experience. He wouldn’t be the first to back out of a planned meeting either. Before he and Nora began their regular correspondence, Gel had been fully prepared to meet her during another one of her shoreleaves. Nora at least had been honest with him, though, sending word that she just wasn’t ready at the time.

Then he would be honest with her too. He’d go back to his hotel and send her a message, saying… Saying what, exactly? Half ready to make good on his plan, Gel hesitated. If he backed out now, all he’d succeed in doing was to put the matter aside for another year or two at most. He had to acknowledge that it wasn’t going to conveniently disappear. Nora was ready to explore the issue, and despite some of his reticence, Gel had to admit to himself that he was ready to face it also.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Gel began to lightly drum the fingers of his right hand on the table’s edge when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Half expecting that his waiter had come to check on him again while he waited for Nora, he turned his head with a friendly smile on his lips.

It was at that moment that he saw her. She was wearing a bright orange dress the color of flame, and as the setting sun shone directly behind her, she actually seemed to glow for a moment. Hurriedly rising to his feet, he couldn’t do much more than stare at her. He knew her on sight, but it still didn’t stop the sense of incredulity that washed over him. After a so many years dancing around one another, they were finally together in the same place at the same time, and that moment of realization was nothing short of surreal. It was just the two of them, standing several feet apart with the sound of the ocean and the laughter of the other restaurant patrons drifting around them. Smiling half in disbelief, half in wonder, Gel took a step toward her. Unsure of where to even begin, he said the only thing he could think of in the moment.

“Hello, Nora.”

OFF:

Dr. Gel Mellix (PNPC)
Surgeon
Emil Mellix Surgical Center of Betazed

played by:

[Zeral]

ON:
<<USS Malinche, Intelligence Department, Shoreleave Day 3, 1020>>

Stepping lightly down the corridor towards the Intel Lab, Nora just managed to move out of the way in time to avoid two men all but careening around the corner with some sort of heavy object hoisted between them. Smiling at their hasty apologies, the Betazoid stood to the side as they passed, then followed a little more sedately in their wake lest anyone else should crash into her from either direction.

She had woken up bright and early that morning to finish the rest of her paperwork for their recently completed mission. Just when she had been preparing to submit her final report, she’d heard rumors of an unusual amount of activity taking place in the Intelligence Department. Wondering if this had something to do with the new CIO that was due to arrive, the Betazoid had found herself wandering towards Intel to see the action for herself.

As Nora stepped through the doors into Intel, her eyes widened slightly at the flurry of activity around her. Either there were new renovations taking place that she hadn’t heard of, or the CIO was already aboard and making himself at home. Smiling in bemusement, she approached one of the workers to see if they could point her towards the new arrival.

An older gray haired chief stood in the middle of the work activity keeping an eye on the coming and goings of his work crew, and making sure everything was positioned exactly where it should be. Brand new state of the art desks, and chairs that even an Admiral would find sinfully comfortable, had replaced the standard regular Starfleet issue. He gave a glance toward the closed door of the ship’s CIO, of course office had been a touch of beauty if he did say so himself. A flash of red caught his attention and he gave the officer a once over stopping briefly on her rank pins. “Can I help you miss,” he asked raising an eyebrow, as his hand reached out to pull her out of the path of a new desk making it’s way into the office.

Grateful to be safely out of the path of danger, so to speak, Nora gave her undivided attention to the man before her. He was a little older than some of the other crewmembers around them and had an authoritative air about him, leading her to wonder if this was possibly the man she was looking for. “I’m Commander Nora Zeral, the Malinche’s Executive Officer,” she said by way of introduction. “I heard a rumor that our new Chief Intelligence Officer had arrived and thought I’d do some investigating of my own,” she smiled.

The Chief gave a shake of his head, “Through the door, I believe he said something about catching up on some reading,” he gave a jerk of his thumb toward the closed office door. “I’m just here to make sure nothing gets messed up during the upgrade,” he said with a smile, while privately hoping the XO wouldn’t dive too deeply into the matter of where most of the equipment was coming from.

Nodding, Nora thanked him and set about following his directions. Obviously, her own investigative skills weren’t very impressive. There was a reason she had pursued counseling and not intelligence, she mused to herself. Just managing to stay out of the crew’s way, she arrived before the doors to the office and pressed the doorchime, silently observing the work going on around her as she waited for the invitation to step inside.

The door opened revealing a rather non-descript human sitting behind a desk similar to the ones outside a pair of visitor chairs in front. However that was where the room stopped being a regular starship office, a large wooden cabinet on one wall held a number of crystal decanters, a wooden poker table sat in the corner with a collection of leather chairs spaced around. Alister glanced up from the PADD he was reading and stood when he realized it wasn’t the chief come to tell him something. “My apologizes Commander Zeral, I was going to report in later today when everything had been finished up,” he said motioning to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

Slipping from behind his desk he wordlessly walked over to the cabinet and the sound of a drink being poured could be heard. Returning he placed Nora’s favorite drink in front of her, before pushing over a PADD that had been on the corner of his desk, “You’ll find my transfer orders on the PADD.”

Having taken his invitation to sit, Nora looked down with no little surprise at the small glass of springwine set before her. Few knew that she had a weakness for the Bajoran beverage, and she was fairly confident that it was not mentioned in her regular personnel file. “Impressive,” she said with a small laugh, observing the man before her with a look that was both appreciative and speculative. The fact that he both knew who she was and had either guessed or already knew her favorite drink all seemed to indicate that he was an intelligence officer worth his salt.

“Unfortunately,” Nora continued somewhat regretfully, “I’m still on duty at the moment, so I’ll have to pass. Thank you, though,” she smiled apologetically as she reached for the PADD. Once she briefly looked over the transfer orders contained there, she nodded. “Everything looks in order here, Lieutenant McKeon. We’re very happy to have you aboard.” And from what she’d glimpsed in the Intelligence Lab, he was already making himself right at home. “I’d ask if there’s anything I can do to help you settle in, but it looks like you’ve already got things well in hand.”

Alister nodded his head in acknowledgement with a smile, “Thank you Commander, I’m glad to be aboard. You’ll have to try the springwine later, I understand the year is a particular prized vintage on Bajor.” He gave a brief nod of his head as she mentioned the office, “I try to make it as comfortable for my people as possible. Intel still hasn’t recovered fully from the war, and our time at friendly ground stations tends to get cut short.” He nodded his head to the wooden furniture, “My father is a furniture maker on Earth and made those for my office at the Academy when I was stationed there, a little piece of home that travels with me.”

Nora looked around her at the comfortable office with a warm smile. “I think it’s lovely,” she said sincerely, admiring the craftsmanship of the furniture. “And certainly worth the effort to bring it aboard. Home is where you make it, or so my mother used to tell me.” She also had several pieces of furniture and other personal objects that she never went anywhere without, no matter where her career in Starfleet took her. “Well, do you have any questions for me about the ship or its crew, Lieutenant? I can tell you right from the start that there’s rarely a dull moment aboard the Malinche, although you’ll likely find that out for yourself sooner rather than later,” she confessed with a wry smile.

Alister gave Nora a smile, “If you like, dad would be more than happy to make you something for your office. He takes great pride in his work, and is always on the lookout to increase his exposure.” Leaning back in his chair he gave a nod of his head, “At the moment I haven’t found any questions but I’m sure that will change, once I get my department in order.”

“That may very well be the case,” Nora cheerfully agreed. “My door is always open should you need anything. In the meantime, you’ll at least have the rest of shoreleave to put things in order, as you say.” While he was obviously off to a good start, the Betazoid was interested to see what other sort of changes he had in mind for the department. “I may be a little biased, but you have a good team here. I think you’ll be pleased with the members of your department. Have you had a chance to meet some of them yet?”

“I have met with a few of them,” Alister said nodding his head, “I don’t have a problem with the bulk of the department, they just are a little too green in certain aspects of Starfleet Intelligence.” He glanced up at the ceiling as he put his thoughts in order, “I’m bringing in two people, I’ve served with before, to bring some hands on experience to the department. The current group seems to lack in certain aspects of the Intelligence business that requires them to get their hands dirty.”

Nora, with her background in Counseling, could by no means call herself an expert in the field of Intelligence, but she wasn’t entirely sure that she was comfortable with the idea of Malinche crewmembers ‘getting their hands dirty.’ What she did know was that the man before her was obviously an experienced member of Starfleet Intelligence who seemed to know exactly what he was about. If he felt that changes of that nature were needed then she wasn’t about to belabor the point. All the same, she made a mental note to keep an eye on things while he and his department adjusted to one another. “I’ll trust your expertise on the matter,” she said with a small smile. “I’m sure that you’ll make whatever changes you deem necessary.”

Alister nodded his head, “Thank you,” he said, “A few simulations and actually on the ground missions rather than mostly sitting in front of a console and you’ll have a first notch Intelligence department.” Standing back up he poured her glass of springwine back into the bottle, “I think you’ll find your Intelligence department greatly expanding in the way Intelligence can be acquired. Do you have any questions for me ma’am, I know my record doesn’t go into much detail about most of the work I’ve done, but is there anything I can do to relieve any issues you have?”

When he explained it like that, Nora found that any misgivings were neatly done away with. “No questions at the moment, Lieutenant,” she replied, rising as well. “And I certainly have no issues to speak of,” she assured him. “In fact, I think that it will be very interesting to see what sort of fresh changes you bring to your department. A little shakeup now and then is good for any department.” Reaching across the desk, she extended her hand to Alister. “I have a feeling that you’re going to be an excellent addition to the crew here, Lieutenant McKeon. Welcome aboard.”

“Thank you ma’am,” Alister said taking her hand and giving it a firm shake, “It’s good to be aboard, and should you be able to find the time, the offer of a drink stands.”

OFF:

This JP has been brought to you by:

Lieutenant Alister McKeon
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

and:

[Setak]

<This is a Backpost>

ON

<USS Malinche, Captain's Ready Room, MD01 1400hrs>

Setak had made his way from his quarters a few decks below to the Captain's ready room with the alacrity of a man who truly wished to be elsewhere. He had been so concerned with getting to his meeting with the Captain that he hadn't given much thought as to what he would say but with the moment at hand he saw little point in lamenting the matter. Pressing the door chime he waited for a moment before stepping forward into the room.

He first noticed Sirak who half turned toward him to regard Setak with her delicate chocolate brown eyes. Setak slowed a step as his gaze lingered on the Vulcan security officer, her eyes looked sad despite what was said about her, their, people. The doctor nodded respectfully before coming to a stop beside Sirak and casting his troubled gaze upon Captain Kersare. “You wanted to see me Captain?”

"Yes, I did, Doctor," Isabel replied, eyebrow slightly raised. The Vulcan man before her was out of uniform and had a travel bag over his shoulder. It seemed that either he had made a decision or he was certain that a decision had been made for him. Turning to Sirak, she said, "Thank you Ensign, you are dismissed."

Sirak nodded and stood silently, pausing ever so slightly as she crossed Setak's path. The expression on her face remained the same as she acknowledged him, "Doctor," and then left the Ready Room.

With the Vulcan woman gone, Isabel's attention returned to Setak. "Please, have a seat."

“I would rather stand if it's all the same to you Captain,” Setak said with a hint of agitation in his voice. He was trying to quell the tide of emotion that washed over his senses but he was on the spot and such situations had always been stressful to him. “If you plan to discuss what I think you do then I probably shouldn't get too comfortable.”

Based on his response, Isabel ascertained that Setak certainly felt he knew what was going to happen. "If you prefer to stand, that's fine, but don't assume that you know what I plan to say. Perhaps in your universe people were easy to predict, but that's not necessarily the case here."

Chastised and feeling slightly the fool Setak nodded as he chose to take the Captain's offer to sit. “My apologies Captain.” He was confused however, if she wasn't planning on expelling him from the Malinche then what was her plan?

Waiting for Setak to sit, Isabel took a moment to collect her thoughts. Her eyes moved briefly to the PADD on her desk; it contained Nora's report. "Doctor, I presume you have an idea of what I called you here for. Regardless of my final decision, I can't simply let what happened during the mission go without some form of discussion. To that end, I have read Commander Zeral's report, but I want to hear from you...what happened?"

“I snapped,” Setak said with no small amount of shame, his eyes filled with loathing and sadness simultaneously. His blunt honesty was surprising even to himself but his ability to control his actions was at the very heart of the discussion anyway. “I can't explain how it happened, I don't recall any particular trigger other than the combat situation itself. And I can't promise you that it won't happen again...”

"I appreciate your honesty, Doctor," Isabel replied sincerely. Part of her had expected him to either brush off the incident or come up with some excuse. The fact that he was being honest with her was, in her mind, a good sign. "And how do you feel about it now?"

Setak's jaw tensed causing the muscles there to bulge out slightly and the vein on his brow darkened a shade of green, “Angry, sir.” The fact that he felt anything at all had always been his real problem, Vulcan emotions were notoriously intense and Setak often wondered if his might be more so than normal. “Angry and... Tired.”

Anger. That was one she hadn't entirely expected, though perhaps he was angry with himself. The question Isabel had to ask herself was whether or not Setak could be a member of the crew without putting others in danger. Right now, she wasn't sure. "Allow me to be honest with you. Having you join my crew was a decision that not all my superiors were particularly thrilled with. However, I saw - and still see - potential in you. You are an excellent doctor, despite any faults you have. Everyone has faults..."

Setak nodded as the Captain finished; he was relieved that she was not yet prepared to toss him aside as a lost cause but also confused. A few months among Star Fleet Officers wasn't enough to erase the long life that Setak had known in his home universe and he was constantly reminded of that by such surprises. He looked up from the desk to the Captain, “...but?”

"But," Isabel continued, "If you can't control your emotions to the point that I have no idea what you'll do from one minute to the next, you are putting the crew in danger. So, you have a choice. If you wish to leave, that is an option, though if you wanted to rejoin StarFleet in the future, I can't guarantee that you will be accepted back. Your other option is to get some assistance so that you can deal with your emotions."

Setak frowned at the Captain's ultimatum and leaned back in his seat a little. He certainly didn't want to leave the Malinche but he hadn't allowed himself to consider the possibility of staying after the incident. He was truly at a loss and uncertain how to proceed. “What do you mean by assistance? Somehow I doubt that regular counseling sessions are going to help me, Captain.”

Isabel was glad to hear that Setak seemed to be at least somewhat receptive to the second option. "Well, doctor, that is what I was speaking with Ensign Sirak about, since she is a fellow Vulcan, albeit from this universe rather than your own. Her recommendation, which I agree with, is that you make a trip to Vulcan and seek initial assistance there. If you would like, Ensign Sirak has offered to accompany you. Once she is satisfied that you are making progress, you could return to the Malinche and continue your work from here."

Setak's initial response was a hearty laugh that he couldn't hold back but after the Captain's face didn't change expression he settled down to consider her comments more thoroughly. A part of him wanted to see his peoples' home world but the Vulcan he would be visiting would be a far cry from the one he had heard of in his own universe. Still, the idea of some miraculous change in himself simply from visiting Vulcan seemed preposterous. “Sirak truly believes that it could do some good?”

"As I'm sure she would tell you, 'It would be illogical to recommend something that would do no good'," Isabel said, paraphrasing what she believed Sirak would say. "And further, I highly doubt Ensign Sirak would volunteer her own time to go with you if she didn't feel it would help you."

Two very good points, Setak admitted to himself but his reservations refused to subside. Why shouldn't he take the opportunity to rectify what had happened if the Captain was willing to let him try? Conversely, he thought, to try and to fail could make matters far worse. He sat in silent contemplation for a few moments before looking back up at the Captain, “Alright Captain. I don't know if this will do any good but I am willing to try. When is it that we leave?”

Although Isabel could tell from his expressions that Setak wasn't entirely convinced of the idea, she did take it as a good sign that he was willing to give it a try. "I appreciate that, doctor. Ensign Sirak was going to gather a few things and then she'll be ready to depart. I would suggest that you leave as soon as possible," Isabel explained.

Setak stood and adopted a grin, “That shouldn't be a problem sir,” he joked as he hefted his travel bag higher over his shoulder. “I'm ready to go as soon as she is. Is that all Captain?”

Though she wasn't sure exactly how genuine the Vulcan's apparent jovial mood was, Isabel responded, "That's all for now, Doctor. I wish you the best of luck and hope to see you back here soon."

OFF

A JP written by:

Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche

and

[McKeon]

ON:
<<Shoreleave Day 4: Starfleet HQ, Earth 1100>>

Alister walked through the main entrance at Starfleet headquarters carrying two cups of coffee as he made his way to one of the countless conference rooms located inside the building. Finding a quiet place to lean comfortably against a pillar just across from the correct room, he waited patiently for Captain Kersare to end one of her countless meetings with Starfleet Command about the recent incident with the Romulans.

After several days of meetings, Isabel had had her fill of them. Luckily, it seemed they were nearing an end - at most she had another full day of them. Partly she wanted to take some time off, but until the meetings were completely done, Isabel had decided against it. Emerging from the conference room, she immediately headed to the right, just as she had done the last three days.

Alister moved rapidly to head off Isabel before she could get too far away, “Captain Kersare,” he called out when he was closer, he held out a cup of coffee, “You look like you could use a cup after your meeting.” He motioned with his hand to a quieter corridor, “I’m Lt Alister McKeon your new CIO, I reported in yesterday, but it seems you’ve been tied up in what seems to be endless meetings.”

Pausing as she heard her name, Isabel waited for a man in Intelligence grey to catch up to her. Her moss green eyes regarded him cautiously, wondering if he was yet another person who needed to meet with her, but she took the offered cup. Isabel's caution dissipated with his next declaration and a slight smile crossed her face as she replied, "Well thank you, Lieutenant. It's a pleasure to meet you; for a minute there I thought you were going to pull me into another of the endless meetings. Now that you mention it, I do remember seeing your transfer orders...you came aboard yesterday?"

“Correct, I passed on my transfer orders to your XO,” Alister said as the noise from the main hall lessened. “As for meetings, I sometimes think Starfleet runs on those more than anything else.” He glanced around the corridor out of force of habit, “I’ve had to endure those endless rounds myself a couple of times, it helps to have a friendly face or at least a good cup of coffee when you have a few spare moments.”

He took a sip of his own coffee, “I hope they aren’t grilling you too hard in there?”

Isabel nodded, "Commander Zeral did mention that to me." She too took a sip of the coffee he had brought her; coffee hadn't been her drink of choice of late, but after the meeting she'd been in, it was welcome. "Some at StarFleet do seem to enjoy meetings, that's for certain. Obviously some circumstances do warrant more extensive debriefings, which I'm sure you understand as an Intelligence officer. It hasn't been all that much worse than debriefings I've attended before, mostly just tedius," she explained further. Borg, mirror universe, time travel...her career had been anything but boring.

Alister smiled, “Normally my debriefings are only carried out by Intelligence personal, who tend to benefit from having a passing familiarity with carrying out similar missions. I saw some of the officers who walked out, and would say that it seems like anyone with a star on their collar has decided to be in on your debriefing. I can however provide you with some good news that should help to ease your mind for the rest of the day if you would like?”

The appearance of her new Chief Intelligence Officer, a staff member they'd been missing for some time now, was quite intriguing in Isabel's mind. In her experience, the other intel chiefs on Malinche had mostly been rather paranoid, but Alister seemed the opposite - he appeared friendly and helpful. Part of her was somewhat surprised, but if he had done a fair amount of undercover work, this sort of personality was likely rather beneficial. She would have to read up on his service record later.

Glancing over at him, Isabel responded, "Yes, it seems a large percentage of the Admiralty has taken an interest.... I would love to hear some good news, Lieutenant; let's have it."

Alister nodded his head, “You’ve stated that it’s your belief that the Romulan operative went rouge and pulled this mission off without approval from the Romulan government. I managed to get a sanitized version of the Romulan Captain’s subspace report, and bucked it up my chain of command. So far it seems you were correct in your assessment, we’ll keep looking under all the rocks to make sure it wasn’t a highly compartmentalized operation, but with Intel you’ve been given a clean bill of health. I believe the Chief is going to bring that up with some of his more hard headed counterparts, and they should have you finished up sometime tomorrow.”

A newer officer might be surprised that Alister had gotten the information he had, despite its classified nature, but Isabel knew that most bets were off when it came to Intelligence officers. "I am glad to hear that the information appears to be checking out. If it wasn't, I would be even more concerned than I already am about what took place. I do appreciate your looking into things and the excellent news that the barrage of debriefings should be nearly over. Have you been settling in alright on the Malinche? From what I understand, you were previously on the Archangel."

“I personally think the Romulans are going to have enough trouble with the other players in this quadrant to go alienating the Federation,” Alister said answered to buy himself some time to organize his thoughts. “Well I’m happy to report my baggage didn’t get lost in transfer, and I was able to get a few upgrades to the Intel section without too much of an issue. As for the rest of the ship, I’ve been rather busy getting a feel for my department, slightly disappointed in lack of experience, but then again most of us didn’t make it through the war, and a lot of the cadre was lost. I’ve called in a few favors and stepped on a few more toes but I’ve got two transfer that I think are going to fit in, and will defiantly give the ship, a much wider degree of flexibility to acquire information.”

She couldn't really disagree with his assessment of the Romulans; they really weren't in a position to alienate anyone. Isabel's expression changed ever so slightly at Alister's mention of the lack of experience in the Intel department.

"I'm glad to hear all of your belongings arrived safely and I must say I am intrigued to see what changes you've made to the area. What about the existing Intelligence officers disappoints you, exactly? They've been with the ship for a few years now, at least. I've always appreciated their work... Please don't misunderstand me, I'm sure everyone could improve themselves and not everyone can be an expert in every area. I'm also sure that additional crew in your department would be beneficial."

Alister shrugged his shoulders, “I guess it’s more of a personal preference or just remembering how things used to be I guess. Your people are highly capable of comms intercepts and getting information from a computer, they aren’t as well polished if it requires getting information the old fashioned way with infiltration and a host of other options that personal on the ground open up. Information on a new weapon is important but, actually acquiring a prototype is even more useful, and if the lab can be destroyed setting back enemy research even better.” He studied the Captain closely as he spoke the last sentence, most of the officers he had encountered took issues with the very last part. He would never lie on a mission report to his commanding officer, but knowing of any philosophical differences would help with how to phrase certain actions that might creep into a covert mission.

"We haven't exactly had much in the way of infiltration missions in the past couple of years, so I think that's understandable," Isabel responded before taking another sip of coffee. While not as well versed as a current Intelligence Officer in standard practices, her mother was an Intelligence officer and thus, Isabel did know a few things about Intelligence missions. Not only that, but some infiltration and recon missions had been done under her watch, so Isabel was not as leery about Alister's explanation as others might have been. "Generally speaking, I agree with you, Lieutenant. It all depends on the circumstances involved though, in my experience."

“Correct, but it helps to have the needed skills kept fresh in case it does become important,” Alister replied, “I wouldn’t want a vital operation to be blown because of some collected rust on needed skills. Certain skills need to be maintained, I’ve spent most of my career in covert operations rather than attached directly to the fleet, and those skills can be the difference between success or failure, not to mention the possibility of ending up with died operatives, and the loss of experience personal.”

Isabel nodded, "I don't disagree with you. It's very important to have training on a regular basis so that everyone stays sharp and is able to perform their tasks. I'd be more concerned if you didn't feel that way. If you don't mind, I might even want to watch or participate in some of your training sessions from time to time; it could help me know how the Intelligence department functions so I know how best to utilize you, for instance." Plus, after their little adventure on Earth of the past, it might not be a bad idea to have everyone take some basic covert operations training.

“Of course, you’re more than welcome to watch or even take part in some of our training sessions,” Alister responded with a smile, “I will warn you that not all of our training sessions will be open though, something’s are deemed better left in house, I’m afraid.”

Raising an eyebrow, Isabel replied, "I can understand not having all your training sessions open, but as Commanding Officer, I should know what you and your department can do. If I don't know, I may not know how to most effectively use you or what you're capable of."

“I could send a request up the chain to get you authority to view those simulations if you wish,” Alister said with a shrug of his shoulders, “However we’re very hesitant to give out details of our counter-espionage programs. Especially after the Maquis where successful in penetrating Starfleet security,” he held up a hand to forestall an angry comeback, “you must understand Intelligence’s reluctance to allow those techniques to become more widely known, where they could reach the ears of someone wishing to circumvent our security measures. I will try my best to get you clearance, but the decision is not up to me.”

"I appreciate the offer," Isabel told him, "but if I feel the need for the clearance, I can send in the request myself. All I'm saying is that if I don't know at the least the main points of what the Intelligence department can do, I may not know its capabilities. And if I don't know the capabilities, I won't know what the team is qualified for, and I would not be sending them into a situation I didn't feel they were qualified for."

“Except for our counter-espionage programs, you’ll have access to the information you need about the capabilities of your shipboard department,” Alister said responding after taking another sip of coffee, “You’ll find I will also speak up if I feel that we can provide assistance to an ongoing operation.”

Also taking another sip of her coffee, Isabel nodded, "Fair enough, Lieutenant. Is there anything else you need from me or anything I can do for you during your transition?" While she enjoyed the chance to get to know her crew, Isabel did have other things to attend to, unfortunately.

“No, ma’am,” Alister said as he finished walking to the end of the corridor and turned right, “at this time everything is going fine.” He gestured to a doorway, “Your next meeting is just through that the door, hopefully the Chief has had enough time to knock some heads into order, I believe you’ll find a chai tea waiting at the podium for you as well.” A quick wink and Alister stepped into the crowd of people mulling about Starfleet HQ and faded into the traffic.

Isabel glanced back over at her new Intelligence Chief; he certainly seemed to be on top of things. Hopefully that would be the case during their missions as well. Of course, lately their missions seemed to simply take unpredictable turns that planning ahead would not have helped with. "Thank you, Lieutenant; it was a pleasure meeting you," she answered. That chai tea would likely come in handy during this meeting.

OFF:
JP by

Captain Isabel Kersare
Commanding Officer
USS Malinche

[Kersare]

ON:
<<Earth Spacedock, Corridor near Main Promenade, Day 5, 1400>>

Having finished the last of her meetings in the morning, Isabel had gone to the Main Promenade for lunch and was now slowly walking along one of the corridors. She noticed that on one wall there were pictures of various ship classes, as well as a model of each ship behind glass set in the wall. As Isabel neared the Legacy class starship model, she paused. It was larger than the Prometheus class and more geared towards exploring, generally speaking. Her gaze moved towards the next model, but a noise behind her made her turn.

Aurora had been walking down the corridor on her way towards the umbilical leading to the Malinche. She was not scheduled to become her CEO yet, but she had wondered if perhaps she could bluff her way on board somehow to get a look at her. She needed something to take her mind off of what was going on at home and...

And she paused in front of a wonderful display. The model builder in her marveled at the detail. She backed up to get a better look at the corresponding picture and someone stepped in front of her. Instinctively she cleared her throat to get the person to move and...

The person turned. Aurora thought she looked familiar. Eyes narrowed, she picked up her PADD and accessed the short list of personnel files. Aurora blushed, smiled weakly. "Um...hello, ma'am. Sir. Lieutenant junior grade Aurora...reporting for duty..."

Isabel raised an eyebrow at the young woman who had cleared her throat. The woman was just a couple inches shorter than her, with ebony hair and blue eyes. She seemed a bit nervous - perhaps caught off guard due to Isabel's presence. It certainly didn't seem that she had expected to find Isabel here, in any event. Luckily Isabel had been notified in advance of Aurora's transfer, so she offered the woman a smile and replied, "Good afternoon, Lieutenant. I wasn't expecting you for another day or two at least. You're to be my new Chief Engineering Officer, from what I understand."

"Yes, ma'am," Aurora replied with a jerky nod, "I know I wasn't scheduled to report yet, but I thought, well..."

My big sister has been manipulated by my government to take a meat tenderizer to my heart, and I didn't feel like sitting on a beach feeling sorry for myself.

"...I understand the Malinche is undergoing repairs and I thought my time would be better served rolling up my sleeves and seeing if I can help put her right."

Nodding, Isabel replied, "Well, from what I read of your service record, it certainly seems you're qualified. My first real experience with the Prometheus class was when I was given command of the Malinche; prior to that I'd been on the USS Cheyenne. Most of the repairs have been completed, but feel free to jump in. When you're ready to see the progress, I'd be happy to accompany you. Do be sure to take some shoreleave time as well though."

Aurora briefly considered confiding in the captain, but she held off. First impressions were important and she did not want to come across as a whiny and homesick. Perhaps later she might ask the woman for advice.

"I have had enough shoreleave, captain," Aurora simply said. As they headed for the dock where Malinche was located she said, "It is a wonderful design. I think Starfleet should look more closely at the concept of changing their fleet to take better advantage of the versatility of modular vessels. Imagine being able to assemble ships for mission specific parameters? Science and medical modules, colonization and evacuation and combat? The Nebula already has this advantage but I am thinking so much more could be done!" Aurora was smiling with glee, her favorite subject temporarily pushing her troubled thoughts back...

Isabel nodded as she followed Aurora; apparently the young woman knew where the Malinche was docked. Not entirely surprising, of course. "Well, not everyone feels that it's a wonderful design...and it certainly keeps Engineering and Operations busy, but it has served us well. I'm fond of it."

Aurora frowned thoughtfully, "Well, that is true; having three of several key systems does mean more potential wear and tear," she smiled wryly, "It is a good thing I don't sleep much, sir."

She pondered Aurora's ideas, deciding how best to answer. After a few moments, Isabel explained, "It's certainly an interesting idea, Lieutenant... I'm not entirely sure how feasible it is, though. A number of ships are already rather versatile and ones that aren't generally serve a specific purpose based on how they were designed. While the Prometheus class is considered a Tactical vessel, we do have some excellent Science facilities and our Sickbay is updated when new technology comes out. A Legacy class is really an Explorer, but has an impressive evacuation capacity and can certainly hold her own in combat. What you're proposing would either require Starbases to have different modules ready to swap out on any class of ship - and there would be numerous types of modules for each - or we'd have to replace our current Fleet with a new type of ship which would take a fair amount of time and resources." While Isabel didn't want to dampen Aurora's enthusiasm and creativity, she also knew what the Admiralty would likely say and wanted to provide some perspective.

The lieutenant sighed, "I know, sir. I wrote a paper on how different star bases would have various modules on hand, possibly enough to create entire ships. But it was politely pointed out to me that logistically such an approach might not be feasible."

She shrugged, "To be fair, I was only a fourth year cadet at the time; I thought Starfleet's resources were infinite, captain. And I suppose it is a bit of a pipe dream to think that the brass would be willing to take on such a radical approach to their entire fleet. Ideally such a concept would have to be enacted from the get-go, a fleet just starting...out..."

Aurora stopped in her tracks, eyes wide. A fleet just starting out, surpassing an obsolete one. A slight smile crossed her lips and she idly wondered how The Bureaucracy would respond to her papers. Admiral Aurora. It did have a nice ring to it... She shook herself and turned to the captain, "Um, sir, do we have our next orders yet?"

Isabel offered a brief smile to the engineer; it was good to see that Aurora recognized the limitations of such an idea. Though important to be able to come up with new, innovative ideas, one also had to consider other aspects - personnel, components needed, time constraints, and others. If a person couldn't keep all those things in mind, their projects were usually doomed to limbo or failure.

As they approached the Malinche, Isabel nodded to the officer on watch; he knew her by now and simply nodded. She moved forward onto the ship at a steady pace and then headed down the right corridor; time to head to Engineering. "We have not received our next orders yet, Lieutenant. This morning I had some of the final debriefs from our last mission and I suspect that early next week we'll be receiving our new orders. We'll likely be on shoreleave for another week and then depart."

"I see, sir," Aurora replied. She wondered if she even had quarters assigned to her yet? They soon reached engineering and Aurora smiled at the sight of it. The warp core was dormant but the place still buzzed with energy as engineering crew members moved about on maintenance and repair duties. It was very much like Ghidora's engine room, only there was a significant difference.

This one belonged to her...

Isabel looked over at Aurora, watching the look on the young woman's face. A wistful smile played on her lips, remembering how she felt when she had entered Engineering for the first time on her assignments. Deciding to let Aurora enjoy the moment and explore Engineering on her own, Isabel turned and headed down the corridor.

OFF:

JP brought to you by:

Lieutenant JG Aurora
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

and

[Aurora]

<<USS Malinche, Zeral’s Quarters, Shoreleave Day 6, 1120>>

When the replicator in her quarters mistakenly gave her chai instead of the chamomile tea she’d ordered, Nora was mildly amused but largely unconcerned. When, several hours later, her request for blue-leaf salad was rewarded with a plate of steaming Klingon gagh, the Betazoid knew that she had a real problem on her hands. After gingerly setting aside the unappetizing dish, Nora made a new request, this time for a crewmember from Operations or Engineering to take a look at her replicator and hopefully prevent it from creating any other stomach-turning meals without her specific command.

She had time enough on her hands to wait since her morning was relatively free. Curling up on her couch with an old fashioned book in hand, Nora was just about to open it to her current chapter when the door chimed. Both surprised and pleased by the quick response, the Betazoid set the book aside and called out for the visitor to enter.

Aurora had spent the better part of the day crawling through jeffries tubes chasing down a host of minor problems. It didn't help that half the time the hatches would not open because the sensors reported hard vacuum, so she had to use a tricorder to confirm that yes, there was atmosphere on the other side, then initiate a command override, which was ignored half the time, which meant she had to manually crank the doors open. And on top of that the environmental controls were wonky in the other half of the tubes she crawled through, with the temperature cranked to at least 35c. By the time a request to look at an errant replicator came through Aurora pulled rank and slithered out of the tubes at the earliest convenience. She found the proper deck and door and it was not until it opened that she realized she was in Officer's Country...

And that the quarters in question were the XO's.

And she looked a proper mess. She had stripped down to her t-shirt and sweat had plastered it to her chest and back. And her hair was in a terrible state.

Someone was getting an earful when she got down to engineering, Aurora thought grimly. She now wondered if all those temperature fluctuations had been malfunctions or someone having a joke on her. But those thoughts were cast aside as she noted the quarters in question. They were...

Well, damn, they were rather nice. Homey, in fact. The XO seemed to favor teal and orange and had collected her fair share of art and souvenirs. On top of that she seemed to have some sort of green thumb, with plants everywhere, half of which Aurora could not identify. If the sight of the space station interior wasn't shown through the windows Aurora would have thought the place was an apartment in San Francisco.

She finally noticed the woman on the couch, book in hand, and smiled sheepishly, "Lieutenant Aurora, ma'am. Your new CEO," she held up her tool kit, "I understand you have a faulty replicator?"

Nora was all smiles as she rose from the couch to greet Aurora. It was a little surprising to find that the head of Engineering herself had responded to the repair request, but since Nora had been hoping to meet the new CEO, it seemed like a golden opportunity for introductions. Thank goodness she’d opted to put on a uniform this morning, despite having several hours off. It was generally best, in Nora’s opinion, that a ship’s Executive Officer did not meet a new crewmember in a bathrobe and with messy bedhead hair. Judging by the appearance of the CEO, however, it looked like it had been a rough morning in Engineering. Obviously Aurora wasn’t afraid to get a little messy for the sake of the ship, which was always gratifying to find in an Engineering officer, the Betazoid thought.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant Aurora,” Nora said warmly. “I’m Commander Nora Zeral, ship’s Executive Officer. The faulty replicator in question is over here,” she said, leading the way to the far side of the room. Gesturing with an ill-hid grimace at the still steaming plate of gagh, the Betazoid explained, “This seems to sum up the problem rather nicely. I don’t mind more exotic fare now and then, but this was not what I had in mind when I ordered a simple salad a few minutes ago.”

Aurora stared at the steaming pile of...whatever it was. She cocked her head; had it...moved? It was probably her imagination.

Probably.

She turned her attention to the replicator and said, "We haven't received any reports of errant replication anywhere else on the ship, which suggests this is an isolated incident. Although I was running into environmental malfunctions in the jeffries tubes."

She cracked open the panel and continued speaking, "Believe it or not, it could be worse, sir; at least your food arrived in containers. Hmmm," she examined the inner workings and said, "Nothing is jumping out at me. It could be something as simple as a glitch in the voice recognition software," she cleared her voice and said, "Computer, ginger ale, with ice. Please," she smiled sheepishly, "I always say, 'please, I don't know why."

The replicator bed shimmered and a glass full of what looked bubbling tar appeared. Aurora frowned and said, "Well, sir, I think our problem is getting worse..."

“I always say please too,” Nora confessed, observing the action as she stood to the side of Aurora. “Never hurts to be polite, if you ask me,” she smiled. As she looked between the glass of unknown liquid and the plate of gagh—which apparently had cooled enough so that it was no longer steaming—Nora wondered if she’d be visiting the mess hall much more frequently while this repair was all sorted out. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen…that,” she commented wryly, gesturing at the glass. “I wonder if it’s Klingon too, like the gagh. At least then there’d be some sort of a theme.”

"Oh? Is that what that stuff was?" Aurora glanced over her shoulder, "...Huh."

A feeling of vague dread rippled through Aurora's thoughts. Klingons...disturbed her. They were violent, loud, unpredictable. At least all Vulcans did was give her an inferiority complex. She set her tool kit on the coffee table and opened it and her PADD spilled out. A video began playing of a pack of preteen girls, all looked identical with subtle differences in hair style and dress. They were squealing as they played with a soccer ball. Aurora barely noticed as she grabbed a pair of tools and said, "You might be on to something there, Commander. There might be some sort of pattern," she gingerly removed the glass from the replicator bed, "Perhaps there is a phonetic component; it hears what we say and just isn't getting it..."

Nora hummed in agreement, trusting Aurora’s expertise on the matter. Her attention had shifted from the replicator to the Engineering Officer herself for a moment, and she was puzzled by a strange wave of emotion she’d briefly perceived from the woman at the mention of Klingons. While she was pondering on that, her attention was diverted again by the PADD that had been left on the table close beside her. Since Aurora seemed to be in the thick of things with the replicator, Nora reached to turn off the PADD for her, smiling at the carefree video. “Is this you when you were younger? Or family, perhaps?” she asked, hoping she wasn’t being too intrusive.

Aurora had begun running a diagnostic with her tricorder when she heard the question. She glanced over and noted her PADD and she experienced a wave of mixed emotions. She hesitated, then said, "Yes, it's family. I am a clone," she held up her forearm, "And those are girls are Auroras oh four ten, eleven and twelve D. I..."

She hesitated, then shut her tricorder, her thoughts were, well, a mess. Guilt combined with resentment, tinged with a sense of...betrayal.

"Sir," she finally said, meeting the commander's eyes, "Is there a counselor assigned to the Malinche?"

The sudden turmoil that Aurora was experiencing was surprisingly strong, and Nora’s empathic senses were fairly flooded with the woman’s myriad feelings of guilt. “Yes, there is,” she quickly assured Aurora. “Dr. Dallas is the ship’s Chief Counselor, and I can tell you from experience that she is truly wonderful.” With a look of concern, the Betazoid continued, “I’m so sorry if I something I said upset you. Is there anything I can help you with, Lieutenant? It seems like you’re feeling conflicted about something.” The counselor in her truly did want to help get to the bottom of the situation, whatever it was, right away. But as XO, Nora suspected that Aurora would feel less inclined to open up to her.

Aurora was torn. On the one hand she would have rather spoken to a counselor about her problems. On the other hand, the commander was a career officer and likely well on her way towards a command of her own one of these days. What sorts of compromises and sacrifices had she made to get where she was? Perhaps she would be a better person to speak with.

"Commander," she said, "My society is, well, different. We don't get married, we don't raise families. Not in the traditional sense, anyway. At the age of thirty The Bureaucracy might assign one of us a child to raise, sort of like a foster mother or big sister. I've been informed by my big sister, Kelly," she hesitated and waved at her head, "It's her nick-name; she has green hair...Anyway, she informed me The Bureaucracy might assign me a girl. One of them. If it happens then it means I might have to give up my career here in Starfleet."

“I can see why that might be weighing on your mind,” Nora said sympathetically. “Now, I can’t speak for anyone but myself, but I know that I’ve made choices to sacrifice certain things in order to continue pursuing my career. My passion has almost always been my career, and I can’t regret the choices I’ve made because of that. It all depends on what you truly want, though I know it’s not always an easy choice to make.” Folding her arms across her chest, the Betazoid offered Aurora a warm and encouraging smile. “But you don’t have to face that sort of choice alone. I think speaking with Dr. Dallas about this would help immensely. She can help guide you to finding a solution that will truly bring you peace.”

Aurora nodded, "I suppose I am just concerned what The Bureaucracy might do, sir. Um, that's what we call the government back home," she shrugged, "Well, no one has contacted me officially about it so I'm not exactly..."

She paused.

"Um, Commander," she said, "What is Starfleet's stance on families?"

“In most circumstances, Starfleet has a friendly stance on families, I believe,” Nora replied. “In fact, the Executive Officer before me adopted a child while he was still aboard the Malinche, and they seemed very happy.” Nora herself had thought about children, especially now that she was seriously considering pursuing a relationship with the man she was technically engaged to. Though she couldn’t imagine juggling motherhood and career now, it was still something she’d always quietly hoped for in the future. In that light, the Betazoid could well understand Aurora’s torn feelings on the matter.

"...Huh," Aurora chewed her lower lip thoughtfully, "That certainly gives me food for thought," she brightened, "Thank you, Commander. I came to fix your replicator and you seemed to have given me some ways to..."

Aurora hesitated, just now noticing the other woman's eyes. They were a curious dark color, like dark pools. Weird eyes for a person. Who...

Then she remembered who had eyes like that. Betazoids.

Aurora felt a surge of almost supernatural dread at the thought of Commander Zeral reading her mind. This was quickly followed by an almost equally powerful sensation of embarrassment and shame. She grimaced and said, "Well, I...I guess I better get to work on the guts of this thing," she patted the side of the replicator, "I'm sure I'll track down the problem..."

The subject, it seemed, was closed. Nora could sense this well enough, just as she sensed that she had somehow managed to make Aurora feel terribly uncomfortable. Although she was both curious and concerned, she felt somehow that it was best to let the matter go for now. “I’m sure that with your expertise, you’ll have it fixed in no time,” she said encouragingly, taking a step back to allow the other woman her space. As if on cue, her comm badge flared to life, informing her that she had been requested in Sickbay. That could only mean one thing: Julie (PNPC) was awake.

“I’d better go,” Nora said to Aurora, anxious to see her friend after so many days spent worrying for her. “I’m sorry to leave in such a hurry, but I’ve probably distracted you long enough as it is. Let me know if you need me, all right?” Distracted as she was, Nora was already moving out the door before awaiting any response.

Aurora heard the XO leave her own quarters and she silently beat her own head against the wall.

"Idiot!" she muttered. Way to go, she thought. She had just begun connecting with one of her bosses and then she ruined it completely by being so transparently racist.

She stared at the replicator's interior and sighed. If all her problems could just be fixed with a tool kit her life would be so much simpler...

OFF: A joint post brought to you by:

Commander Nora Zeral
Executive Officer
USS Malinche NCC-38997-A

and