Star Trek RPG - Mission #2: "Primum Nil Nocere"

"I am no expert in romantic matters," T'Var admits. "However, it seems to me -- from a logical standpoint -- that if you have doubts about this man, then he might not be the 'right' man for you."

T'Var pauses a moment. "Perhaps a cooling off period in your relationship would be a good idea at this time?"

While maintaining her stance, Collins pays attention to the proceedings. "This all seems like overkill," she thinks, "but maybe I can learn something here."

"Ma'am, I believe Engineering Specialist Second Class Malcolm Travers showed a serious lack of judgement on Morra III, but he is a promising member of Starfleet and has a clean record. I believe he has a chance to learn from this mistake with some additional training and of course some extra work giving him more time to reflect on the effect he has had on the Yorktown. I am recommending he not be broken in rank."

Damn it Jim, I'm an Engineer not an advocate.

"Thank you, Mr. Delaney," the Captain says. "I'm inclined to agree. Is there anything else you want to say, Mr. Travers?"

"Yes, ma'am. I want to apologize to you, and to the civilians involved. I got drunk and I lost my head, I admit it. I'm really, really sorry, and it won't happen again."

"Very well. Based upon the evidence presented, I find you guilty of violating the criminal law of a Federation member world or colony, public intoxication, wrongful conduct toward civilians, and conduct unbecoming Starfleet personnel. I find the other charges not proven. I note as mitigating factors your candor in admitting guilt, what appears to be your sincere remorse, and your exemplary record to date." She pauses, thinking. "I sentence you as follows: You will write letters of apology, text to be approved by the First Officer, to the Governor of Morra III, and to the two civilians who were involved. You are verbally reprimanded. You will forfeit two weeks' pay, and be confined to quarters except when on duty for the next two weeks. You will not go on any of the next three available shore leaves except in the company of an officer approved by the Assistant Chief Engineer. No other penalty will be imposed. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am." He looks relieved.

"Do you think you'll have any difficulty complying with the terms of my sentence?"

"Oh, no, ma'am."

"Good. Let this be your last Captain's Mast, Mr. Travers. The next time - if there is a next time - you will not receive the same leniency. Starfleet expects better of you, and so do I."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am."

The Captain nods. "This hearing is concluded. Dismissed."

After she and Vargas have left, Travers enthusiastically shakes Delaney's hand. "Thank you, sir. Thank you! I'm really grateful. Can I buy you a beer?" He winces. "Or... maybe something nonalcoholic, to celebrate?"

A few minutes later, the Captain calls Pourtash and Collins. "Report to my office, please, at once."

In their quarters, Bennett says to T'Var, "Maybe we should separate, even for just a little while, but I just can't tear myself away for now. There's too much that's right in our relationship for me to want to give it up. Do you know what I mean?" There are almost tears in her eyes.

Collins nods goodbye to Mahmoud and heads to the Captain's Office.

T'Var sighs and gives Bennett a hug. "No, I do not," the doctor says with a bit of what humans would consider sadness in her voice. "I have found human instinct to be correct more times than not, however."

The doctor smiles slightly. "You must follow your heart, of course. And know that I am here for you -- whatever happens."

The Captain welcomes Collins to her office; the Security officer has never been in there before. It is paneled in dark wood and is quietly elegant, with a large oil painting of the Yorktown and various family pictures on the bulkheads. Capt. Singh glances behind Lt. JG Collins with a quizzical smile, and asks, "And where is Mr. Pourtash...?"

Bennett squeezes the Vulcan doctor tightly and says, "Thank you, T'Var. I really appreciate that. I usually have things totally under control, and know exactly where I'm headed in life, but not so much anymore. Sometimes things seem to be getting away from me. I'm still just trying to think this all through."

"I came alone, Sir. I'm sure he'll be here shortly" Collins replies while standing at parade rest.

"Please be seated, Lieutenant," the Captain says.

"Thank you, sir" and Collins sits.

Delaney replies to Travers, "Well it will have to wait 2 weeks, but when your restriction is up I would be happy to join you. If you can excuse me, I need look into some other department issues."

With that Delaney heads for the Engineering office and pulls up the records for watch standing qualifications. He is looking to see if the department is merely normal or if quals are happening at an accelerated rate. He read an article that indicated this was an issue all the way back to the times of Churchill himself.

If he finds what he expects to find he will recommend a program so those least qualified will stand instructional watches in addition to their standard watches. He knows this method works great for improving engineering departments.

Singh and Collins chat briefly about Morra III before Pourtash shows up a few minutes later, red-faced and out of breath. "I'm very sorry I'm late, Captain. I was unavoidably delayed."

Singh nods and makes no further inquiry. "Thank you both for coming. I see from your records that neither of you have attended a Captain's Mast before. I'd be interested to hear your reactions to this one."

"I guess my confinement starts right away, then, huh?" Travers asks Delaney unhappily before excusing himself. In his tiny office just off Main Engineering, Delaney sees that the Yorktown Engineering staff stand watches that include both instructional periods and routine duties. Watch assignments are not made by the Chief Engineer on the basis of experience or inexperience, as such. Qualifications occur aboard ship here at an average rate for Starfleet.

Dr. T'Var checks the Library Computer and compiles a list of novels she would like to read and possibly suggest for the novel book club.

She also has a chat with Rachel Hayes about literature and is pleased to receive a list of novels Rachel has enjoyed.

T'Var looks forward to her reading and her first book club meeting.

"It was shorter than I expected, sir," Collins states, "but then given the infraction involved, I suppose it was just the right length. It also reinforced how important it is to learn the laws of the world we visit before embarking on a mission."

Delaney pulls up the records for all engineering staff and looks for who is behind on quals vs. time on board. This is the list he'll use to recommend extra instructional watches for and he will try to match the trainees with the better watchstanders in the department.

"It was short, but considering the matter and the differences from a court-martial I did somewhat expect that," Pourtash answers, nodding slightly to Collins' comments. "All of this has certainly left me more concerned about behavior on shore leave."

Hayes and T'Var at once strike up an easy friendship. She asks, "What sort of novels are you interested in, T'Var? What genres, authors, themes, and eras...?"

"Those are fair points," the Captain says to Collins and Pourtash. She thinks for a moment and then says, "I try to keep my Captain's Masts informal and focused. If I find someone guilty, I want the punishment to fit the crime, and to both instruct and correct, where possible. Everyone who appears before me should know exactly what my and Starfleet's expectations are, and how to do better next time. Ideally one disciplinary case will be enough for any crewmember. So far I've had pretty good luck with them." She smiles. "None of my subordinates has yet been court-martialed, and if possible I'd like to maintain that record. Tell me, would you have done anything differently in Travers's case? Please speak freely."

Delaney identifies four Yorktown Engineering officers who are lagging on the promotion ladder. Ens. Emebet Woizera, an Ethiopian woman who serves as an environmental systems expert, and Ens. Oscar Rico, an impulse drive specialist from Guatemala, are both more than a year late for promotion to lieutenant junior grade. Spec/3 Solveig Larsen, a Norwegian woman who monitors deuterium consumption, could have made Spec/1 by now. And Spec/1 Therin, an Andorian male in shuttlecraft maintenance, appears to have absolutely no interest in becoming a chief.

"Any differences I would have made would have been minor," Pourtash admits. "I may have restricted him to his quarters for only one week, but bar him from the next four shore leaves, since his behavior on the ship hasn't been an issue and I'm concerned about further problems with shore leave. The way it was actually done may be fairer, though. Missing that many chances for shore leave could have been too stressful."

"But there is plenty to do on the ship to relieve stress during off hours. I agree that barring him from the next 'x' shore leaves would have been appropriate," Collins then adds "I would also have charged Travers with researching the local laws of the next shore leave planet and summarizing them for the crew before leaves begin."

"I have been researching mystery novels," T'Var replies a bit sheepishly. "Not exactly the sort of genre you would expect from a Vulcan."

Hayes laughs. "Mysteries are a favorite of mine. I love Agatha Christie and Sherlock Holmes. You might want to check them out on the Library Computer -- pick a few you find interesting -- then we can discuss them."

"As a preparation for my participation in the novel book club?" the doctor asks.

"If you'd like. It'll be fun."

"Thank you both for your sharing your thoughts," the Captain says. "I'll bear them in mind for next time... which I hope is a long time from now! Anything else on your minds?"

After talking with Hayes, T'Var checks on the Sakath-bound cell lines and finds that all are doing well; none have died since the day before. Rangin checks on the three kinds of creatures and finds them in good shape, too. The Denebian slime devils, in particular, seem to have resigned themselves to their well-constructed compartments and are settled deep into their respective mud chambers.

Delaney notes the personnel found and continues to look into just the watch standing aspect of training. When completed he will make a full recommendation to the CHENG.

"No, sir," Collins says, "not at this time."

Pourtash looks thoughtfully at Collins, rather impressed with her comments about a charge of research. It hadn't been a direction his thoughts had gone. "No, sir," he tells the Captain.

"Very well," says the Captain. "While you're here, I wanted to let you know that we'll rendezvous with the USS Tashkent the day after tomorrow; it'll be announced shortly to the rest of the crew. There will be a few personnel transfers, and additional cell lines brought aboard for the Sakathians, as well as some supplies. Lt. JG Demei Xiang, who commanded the captured Eruunlac ship, will also be returning with her prize crew. Thank you for your time, gentlemen. Dismissed."

A few minutes after Collins leaves the Captain's office, Cooper calls her and asks if she'd like to see the 2104 remake of Hitchcock's Notorious that night.

The Chief Engineer will meet with Delaney whenever the younger officer is ready.

"I'm not a fan of the remakes, give Classic Hitchcock every time," Collins told him, "but, I'll enjoy spending time with you."

Pourtash will head out and consider what time he has for the rest of the day. Is his schedule free enough to spend some time swimming? It's occurred to him that he hasn't been physically active enough recently.

After his watch ends, Pourtash has a good, vigorous swim and feels much better.

Collins and Cooper enjoy the Notorious remake, although they agree the 1946 Hitchcock original was better overall. Cooper's cabinmate has arranged to spend the night elsewhere, and the two enjoy each other's company in Cooper's quarters until the morning.

Two days pass, and the Tashkent and the Yorktown meet in deep space. The smaller ship is one of the sleek new Pretoria class of light cruisers. Engineering Lt. JG Demei Xiang returns with her prize crew from the captured Eruunlac ship. She tells Delaney during debriefing, "By the time we left the Starfleet research facility on Xideri III, they had the ship almost halfway disassembled. If there are any secrets to be learned, sir, they'll learn them." Delaney hadn't noticed before how attractive she is, but he tries to focus on the task at hand.

Dr. T'Var and Lt. JG Fujishiro supervise the transfer and safe stasis storage of another 200 cell lines - mostly from Andorian, Tellarite, Rigellian and Altairian invertebrates - in Cargo Bay 12. Several large containers of supplies are also beamed over from the Tashkent.

Seven new crewmembers come aboard, including Ens. Kylah, the Yorktown's new Assistant Communications Officer. Three of the Yorktown's crew (no one you particularly know) leave for other assignments. Kylah is met in the Transporter Room by Lt. JG Cecilia Bennett, who takes her to report to the First Officer. "Welcome aboard, Ensign," he says. He looks at her a little skeptically. "After reviewing your personnel file, you strike me as someone of great ability, but also as someone with the distinct potential to crash and burn. I'll be expecting you to be on your best behavior on my ship." How does she respond?

Ens. Euterpe Terezis, Collins's roommate, apologetically says to her, "One of my other friend's cabinmates is leaving, and she's asked me to stay with her, so I'll be moving out. I hope you don't mind." Within the hour, the Quartermaster assigns Kylah and Collins to be cabinmates.

After a few hours, the two ships part ways, and the Yorktown resumes course for Sakath V.

Under the gimlet eye of the First Officer, Ens. Kylah remains as straight and proud as any member of the royal family of Elas would. Endless protocol lessons with a martinet of a governess, who strapped a ruler to Kylah's back to teach her the proper posture of someone in her station, has taught her to never slump.

She keeps her gaze level. "I will not crash and burn. I didn't do it in flight training at the Academy, and I won't do it here." There's only a slight hesitation--timed to be precisely long enough to be noticed, but not long enough to be questioned, before she adds: "Sir."

T'Var looks over the personnel files of all new crew members -- and their medical records.

She hopes to meet each of them in the near future. The doctor feels that this is an important part of her duties as a medical officer. She wants everyone aboard the Yorktown to feel comfortable around her so that she may better meet their health care needs.

Collins is sorry to see Euterpe move out, but understands why she did. "I'll see you 'round the ship" she tells the ensign.

"Call me Jeremi when we're off duty," she tells Ensign Kylah, "what do you do for fun?"

(Removed - duplicate post).

Kylah looks around the cabin, hesitating in the doorway. She realizes a little part of her is still expecting someone to do her unpacking for her. Even the recent years of learning to do things by herself haven't erased that instinct--or the instinct to demand a private room. The memory of the teasing she'd received from her roommates at the Academy when she'd made that very request still brings a flush to her cheeks.

She walks in slowly, examining the young woman in front of her. As friendly as Collins's welcoming words seem, Kylah can't help wondering if there's some disappointment in there as well. She shakes off the insecurity and strides into the quarters--her quarters, just as much as Collins's, she reminds herself.

"I am Kylah," she says firmly, meeting her new roommate's eyes. "I don't think my first thoughts on board this vessel should be about 'fun'." Then, after wincing inwardly at how strident she must sound, she adds, "But... I do enjoy musical entertainment. I play a stringed instrument unique to my planet."

Kylah heads to the bed and the cases of her belongings, opening one up to remove her beloved zither. "It is out of tune from the journey, but when I have attended to it, I shall play it and you can--" Again realizing how she must sound--and how injudicious her words were--she takes a deep breath to rephrase. "Perhaps, if you have any musical abilities, you might allow me to accompany you."

"I like to sing," Jeremi told her new roommate, "mostly mid 20th to early 21st Century Broadway and pop songs. But I am familiar with operatic works as well." She watches Kylah move around the room. To herself she thinks "poor thing must feel intimidated being on a Constiution class vessel."

Kylah waits until she's put her things away to respond, her facial muscles almost hurting with her attempt to maintain a pleasant smile. "I have no knowledge of this Broadway form," she says at last, turning to the taller woman. "It is an Earth style, I take it? On Elas we have a wide variety of music styles dating back tens of thousands of years--mostly different ways of accompanying battles, or songs of glory after a conquest--whether that conquest is military or romantic. Naturally I'm proficient in as many of them as possible.

"But," she adds with a tilt of her head to acknowledge Collins's comments, "learning a new style from such a young civilization would be fascinating. Perhaps you might instruct me on what precisely Broadway is?" She can't help but add, "In fact, if you sing I might be able to keep up with you. I am ... fairly proficient at learning quickly."

Collins hopes Kylah will loosen up quickly. "The ship's library has plenty of Broadway albums, from the early 20th Century through the late 21st. I have no idea what's popular now, though. As for pop music, search the library for 'classic rock', and you'll find the tunes I like." She pauses to watch the Ensign's reaction. "There's also a couple of groups that meet weekly to play classical instruments. Your zither will fit right in, " She turns to leave to meet Ben for dinner, looks back and says "My grandmother has one of those back on Earth," and with that, she leaves.

Sitting down slowly on her bed, Kylah lets her smile dissipate and plucks absently at the zither, a half-forgotten tune from her childhood. Then, when she realizes what she's doing, she pushes the instrument away and stands up, annoyed.

She looks over at her new roommate's things. Not much to glean any information from, no sense of who Jeremi Collins is. Aside from being patronizing, Kylah thinks with a grimace. But I don't need any mementos to know that.

Closing her eyes for a moment, she centers herself, inhales deeply, and just listens to the innumerable sounds of the ship audible even with the door closed -- not surprising, with hundreds of people on board and countless computerized, technological gadgets all involved in the seamless running of the Yorktown. Kylah tries to tune out everything and just... just focus the way she's taught herself to.

After a while her eyes open and, with new certainty, Kylah knows where to go next. Though she'd been given a physical back at the Academy just before leaving for her assignment, Kylah is aware she'll have to check in with the medical team at some time. Might as well get it over with. Besides, she has no doubt that her records will be of interest to the medical staff. She has the irritating suspicion that someone is looking them over even now.

She strides out, hoping to find Sick Bay without needing to ask any actual humans.

But you're half human, a voice inside her taunts her, as always. Rolling her eyes, Kylah keeps walking and brushes the internal commentary away... also as always.

Delaney presents his findings and suggestions to the Cheng. He goes over any additional data available from the captured ship. He continues his normal duties and his work on the space mines.

The little bit of spare time he has left will be put towards a requiement he knows he will get hit for in his annual review otherwise. He makes an effort to socialize starting with his bridge command study group.

Arriving at her destination after about twenty minutes and a few wrong turns, Kylah looks quickly around the Sick Bay, which is busier than she would have expected during a non-combat situation. She notices most of the inhabitants are clearly not wounded; must be some kind of virus or cold going around the ship. There are a few different crew members wearing the standard medical blue uniform walking around, either tending to the patients -- No, not patients...they're not so ill; malingerers, most likely, Kylah thinks dissmissively -- or bringing various specemins from one unidentifiable machine to another.

Then her gaze alights on one medical staffer looking over some records by herself. A tall and muscular woman, whose stillness is an oasis of calm among the other busy crew members. She seems so different from the others bustling around and the patients complaining or sneezing and making other unpleasant noises. Her serenity is such that it almost radiates outwards. And Kylah --who has felt anxious and irritable and a whole panoply of other mixed emotions since boarding the Yorktown -- suddenly finds her muscles relaxing, her heartrate slowing.

When she arrives at the other woman's side, Kylah spots the ears and features that are the tell-tale signs of this person's race: a Vulcan. No wonder, Kylah thinks with a contended little sigh. She's always found Vulcans so pleasant to be around. So orderly, so rational.

She waits a moment, apparently unnoticed by the woman seated before her in deep concentration, until she finally clears her throat. "Doctor?" she asks somewhat awkwardly, before pronouncing even more awkwardly: "I am Ensign Kylah. A--a new crew member."

Before Ens. Kylah shows up, Dr. T'Var has seen nothing especially out of the ordinary in any of the seven new crewmembers' medical files.

Collins and Cooper enjoy another meal together. Cooper can put away staggering quantities of meatloaf, potatoes and gravy.

Chief Engineer Cheverez likes what Delaney has done so far, and approves the training and watchstanding changes the young engineer suggested. He's made a little progress towards developing a new form of space mine, but isn't sure they will be cost-effective as opposed to simply altering the detonation settings of photon torpedoes. How, specifically, would he like to socialize more with his friends in the Bridge Command Duty Officer (BCDO) study group?

"I am Dr. T'Var, Assistant Chief Medical Officer," the Vulcan says with a smile. "Welcome aboard the Yorktown, Ensign."

Honored by the greeting, Kylah raises her hand in salute. "Dif-tor-heh-smusma," she says in flawless Vulcan, adding quietly, "I come to serve, Dr. T'Var. You must come across patients who might need a translator--one who understands the subtleties of language in a way that a computer cannot comprehend. If I can ever be of assistance, please let me know."

T'Var returns the hand salute. "Thank you," she says. "I am sure you will be an asset to this ship and Starfleet."

The doctor pauses a moment. "How are things going so far, Ensign?"

"We're going to have to work that meal off, you know" Jeremi tells Ben, "besides, I could use some stress relief myself. My new cabin mate's stick is so far up her behind, she can't sit down."

Kylah ponders how much to tell the Vulcan, whose eyes seem kind yet all-seeing. Kylah doesn't particularly want to be seen.

"I haven't had much experience on board, yet, Doctor," she says. "All I've done is speak with the first officer, who reminded me of my current duties as well as my past at the Academy." There, that's true but vague enough. "And then met my roommate, Collins, who tried to engage me in some small talk, but I don't... I don't do that very well. It seems purposeless. I find humans seem fond of that--talking without purpose."

She shrugs, irritated again by her own words. "I then thought I might as well head to Sick Bay. I seem to recall it's common to get a physical examination after being on board another ship. To protect against cross-contamination. Is that still true?" After a hesitation, she can't help but blurt: "If it's voluntary, I would prefer not."

"To be honest," T'Var says, "I do not enjoy physical examinations, either." The doctor allows herself a slight grin. "I understand completely."

T'Var's grin widens. "And I would have to agree with your assessment of the human need for 'small talk'. However, this is a part of what makes them so interesting."

The doctor gestures to an open door on the other side of Sickbay. "I can perform a brief examination in my office to check your vital signs, etc. If all seems normal, we can leave it at that for now. Would this be acceptable to you?"

Cooper wipes his lips, burps quietly and says, "You're right, Jeremi. How about a long swim and then an even longer spell in the sauna?"

You each find a message in your comm account ordering you to attend a mission briefing in Conference Room 1 tomorrow at 0900 hours. Ens. Hayes will be discussing the Sakathian mission.

"Oh, I had something else in mind," Jeremi smiles, "but if you'd rather swim . . ."

She later tells Ben it will have to be an early night because of the morning's mission briefing.

Kylah agrees to Dr. T'Var's suggestion, still reluctant but knowing it's a necessary evil. In addition, the good doctor seems so welcoming and almost... well, not maternal, because Kylah doesn't exactly have a warm feeling about mothers, but... reassuring. Compassionate, even. T'Var's presence is such a new and enjoyable one that Kylah decides not to press her luck and, for once, tries not to offend her or be too intrusive, as is her usual way with strangers.

Another reason is that she has some experience with Vulcans from the Academy, and knows they can be quite insightful--too insightful for Kylah's liking. So she is especially careful not to give any reason for the obviously intelligent doctor to aim any mental spotlight at Kylah.

T'Var scans Kylah with a medical tricorder.

"Vital signs are a bit elevated, though I believe you are probably suffering from what was once known as 'white-coat syndrome'," she says.

Kylah feels her face burn but keeps her gaze steady. "It is a custom on Elas to carry such knives," she says evenly. "As well as serving for protection and utility, they have religious significance to my people. I did not think they would be any harm on board--and could be of much use, off of it."

Pourtash makes note to be there for the meeting. He'll also be looking for projects or activities needing volunteers that might help fill up his time as well as give him a little more social interaction, before he makes an early night of it.

Delaney sets his reminder for the meeting and then goes to the Bridge training study group.

Cooper returns Collins's smile and says, "Well, maybe a short swim would be better, after all...."

Dr. T'Var vaguely recalls hearing that Cmdr. Vargas permits Yorktown Security personnel to carry concealed weapons of personal preference, even while off-duty, if they get his approval first. She may wish to tell Ens. Kylah.

What sort of projects or activities would Pourtash be interested in? There are several aboard ship.

Delaney's BCDO study group meets and discusses leadership theory. Lt. Cmdr. Roble has suggested that you all read John Keegan's classic The Mask of Command.

"Have you received permission from the Chief of Security regarding your knives?" Dr. T'Var asks. "If not, please do so."

The doctor sighs, then smiles. "Other than that, you seem more than fit for duty, Kylah."

T'Var transfers the information from her tricorder into Kylah's medical record.

"Perhaps you might be willing to tell me more about your knives some other time? I would find such a discussion most interesting."

Cooper's cabinmate again finds somewhere else to be, and Collins and Cooper enjoy each other's company for several hours in blessed privacy before the Security officer returns to her quarters to shower and get some much-needed sleep.

The next morning, you each arrive in Conference Room 1 to find all of the Yorktown's senior officers other than the Captain already there. You each have the chance to converse briefly with your department chief before she arrives. Would you like to discuss anything?

Delaney inquires, "Excuse me chief, any idea what's brewing?"

"This is going to be our briefing on the Sakath V mission," Chief Engineer Cheverez says as Ens. Hayes, the Xenosociology Officer, walks in and takes a seat. "Won't take too long, I hope. The paperwork is really piling up on me."

See post #447.

Kylah stands at attention far away from the others, very distant and alone among what she thinks looks like easy rapport among the others. She feels like a child picked last for some schoolyard play activity. Or the way she felt after being disinvited from the poker games she'd so enjoyed at the Academy. Then again, that was her own fault. You were cheating, after all, her inner voice chides her. She nearly smiles but checks herself.

Nervous and wary of the others as she is, she's excited to be at her first mission briefing. This is where her career will truly begin, and where her skills will be put to the test. In the back of her mind she's a litle worried about T'Var, though. Will the doctor follow up on whether Kylah's sought permission for those knives?

She glances at Collins. Her roommate didn't appear back in their quarters until ridiculously late, breathing rather heavily. Though Collins hadn't said much to her, Kylah sensed the security officer hadn't exactly spent the time or exertion in study for the Bridge Officers exam. Unless there's a whole different portion of the test relating to human mating rituals.

Speaking of which... she casts an eye at the one called Delaney, impressed by what seems to be his rapport with the chief. Quickly she looks away, just in case he turns and notices her. Actually, no one seems to notice her. It's absurd. She's a new officer and a member--adopted, perhaps, but still a member--of the Elasian royal family. Is anyone going to introduce me or am I forced to introduce myself?

As far as projects, Pourtash would look for chances to assist with anything involving analysis or experiments in astrophysics, as it's his chief area of interest. He recalls the Captain once mentioning the occasional pickup game of soccer on board and he will ask around about those for recreation and additional fitness.

In the morning, Pourtash will exchange a few words with his roommate, Ens. Mikhail Trigorin. He has little time to waste, though, and soon must head out for the meeting.

Once he arrives, he notices Kylah looking somewhat nervous and isolated. He offers her a smile, as that's a state he finds himself in more often than he'd like to admit. Of course, he doesn't realize she's royalty or anything of the sort. He just sees what he assumes is an uncertain new crew member, possibly shy or socially inept like himself.

"Welcome aboard, I'm Faraz Pourtash."

Kylah's shifting gaze has landed out the young man just before he began to speak. The contrast in his appearance--darkish skin, striking green eyes--immediately meets with her approval. He could almost be Elasian, and not one of the lower classes either, but of noble blood. And yet something in him seems hesitant. Why should this be so? Kylah wonders in the second before she returns his greeting.

"I am Kylah. Assistant Communications Officer," she explains, perhaps pointlessly. Then, as she stares into Pourtash's face for a bit too long and realizes he seems to be expecting something else, she has to blurt out, "And thank you. For the welcome," she adds belatedly. Humans and their mundane speech habits, she thinks, hiding her impatience. Everything must be expressed, nothing left unsaid. Still, she has to admit she doesn't mind the extra moments spent in dialogue with the other junior officer. Not as she did with Collins and that unbearable First Officer, Vargas. Do they all know what this mission is about? she wonders suddenly. Or is it a surprise to them as well as to me?

"I admit I know nothing about this mission, having only arrived last evening," she says, almost forgetting to verbalize her thoughts. "Do you know what this is about?"

That Delaney appears to be doing a mental self check would probably be noticeable by some of the Vulcans. He then walks over to the new officer, extends his hand and says very rapidly, "Welcome aboard Ensign to the finest ship in the fleet. Let me know if you need any help with the comm equipment. I made a point to familiarize myself on it and am watch qual'd to use it. What was your last assignment? I came over from the fast scout USS Ganymede. I'm almost a Terran, but technically an El-fiver. I grew up on the Heinlein."

The staring makes Pourtash flush slightly, wondering if he might have done something wrong. When Kylah speaks again, he relaxes slightly. "You're welcome. I know it can be a bit difficult easing into a new crew. It's never been one of my talents, to be honest. There are a lot of good people on this ship, though." He'll cut himself off there, as he thinks he might be ranging into babbling territory.

When she asks about the meeting, Pourtash pauses to collect his thoughts. "Hayes will be discussing the Sakathian mission. I'm afraid I don't know very much about it at this point, though."

Of course, then there's Delaney, illustrating that what Pourtash considers babbling might just be conversation to other humans.

Lt. JG Pourtash learns that there's a soccer game scheduled tomorrow afternoon at 1400 in the Shuttlebay. He can sign up through his comm account, or take a chance on just showing up.

Lt. Joseph Bancroft, Chief Engineer Cheverez's husband, is the Yorktown's senior astrophysicist. When Pourtash contacts him, he says, "I need quite a bit of numbers crunching for a cosmic microwave background radiation study in the next week or so, if you're willing, Mr. Pourtash. It's a big project, and I'd certainly appreciate your help."

Later, in Conference Room 1, the Chief Engineer notices Kylah's discomfort. He comes over, smiles warmly, shakes her hand and says, "Please, Ens. Kylah, have a seat - no need for you to stand, unless you prefer to. I'm sorry I didn't have the chance to welcome you aboard personally before this, as Communications is part of Operations and thus in my overall bailiwick. Just too damn busy lately, I'm afraid, as I was telling Mr. Delaney. Have you met Lt. Thalen, the Communications Officer, yet? Or been to the Bridge?"

"I'm sorry," Collins tells Kylah, "I should have introduced you to everyone." To the others, she says "Ensign Kylah is my new cabin mate. Ensign Terezis needed to help a friend."
Collins walks over to Cmdr. Vargas, "Sir," she says, "I am looking forward to this mission and having another chance to show what I am capable of."

Pourtash would have signed up for the soccer game through his communicator before the meeting, then. He'll happily set aside time to assist with Lt. Bancroft's project, as well.

After starting to relax--as much as Kylah ever does, anyway--and get used to Pourtash's pleasantly gentle, almost shy presence, suddenly she's practically bowled over by Delaney's rapid-fire greeting. He's charming and confident and Kylah's annoyed by the sudden flush warming her cheeks--until somewhere among his barrage of words she hears him say, "Let me know if you need help with the Comm equipment."

This straightens her back and lifts her chin. "This is my first assignment aboard a starship. But if I were not well-versed in this equipment, Mr. Delaney, I would never heve been assigned to attend to it. But thank you for the offer," she adds without much gratitude in her icicle-laden speech.

Later, when the Chief Engineer makes his hearty welcome to her, she is glad to take her attention away from both young men, finding herself confused by their own very different presences as well as her reaction to them. "Thank you, sir," she says, and unlike with her meeting with Vargas, there's no hesitation in the title. "I haven't been on the Bridge yet, nor have I met Lt. Thalen, though I look forward to that honor."

She glances over to find an available seat, hoping there's one not too close to any of the people she's either been annoyed by -- or has annoyed.

Then, apparently having been invoked by Kylah's thoughts, Collins enters and makes her belated introduction. Kylah nods stiffly and wishes she didn't feel like an afterthought.

The response Delaney elicits from Kylah makes Pourtash smile a touch wryly before he claps the other man on the shoulder. "If you breathe between words, you might be able to avoid that next time," he jokes quietly. He's familiar with Delaney's eager helpfulness and knows there was no offense intended. Hopefully whatever offense was taken passes quickly.

Having no plans to talk to anyone else before the meeting, Pourtash will take a seat.

Delaney looks a little sheepish, "Ah, breathing between sentences, I forgot again. Just seems like there is never enough time for everything I need to do and to be honest, this social interaction bit is still not my strong suit."

"We're two of a kind there. I just don't talk that much, to try to avoid accidentally getting a mortal enemy by helpfully pointing out how stupid someone is." Pourtash pauses, considering that. "I've made the right decision."

Dr. T'Var is pleased that Kylah's fellow crew members have taken it upon themselves to welcome her aboard. Of course, the doctor had no doubt that this would happen. T'Var is proud -- as proud as a Vulcan is allowed to be -- of the crew she serves with.

The Captain walks in. As you all rise, she says "As you were," and takes her seat. She looks around. "I hope everyone's doing well this morning. It's good to see you all. Mr. Hayes, your briefing, please."

"Yes, ma'am." The xenosociologist stands and activates the room's viewscreen. An image of a Class M world appears. Hayes says, "This is Sakath IV, homeworld of the Sakathians." The image changes to show a smiling group of what appear to be human beings, although with slightly grayish skin. "The Sakathians share the standard Human genome except that both sexes have two extra ribs from the Earth norm, there are very short, vestigial tails in about a fifth of the population, and their psi potential is considerably lower than ours." A crude spaceship appears, and then a starmap. "The Sakathians discovered warp drive about a century ago and have now spread to the five adjoining star systems." A serious-looking man with a complicated crown is shown. "They have a constitutional monarchy and a vibrant economy. Due to two alien invasions in their prehistory, they're somewhat xenophobic, though, and permit contact by offworlders only at the starport of Sakath V, the first planet settled by the Sakathians after their homeworld, and the research station orbiting that world." You see a long, thin orbital structure with several domes of varying sizes clinging to it. "That is where we're taking the animals and cell lines, for study by a joint Sakathian-Federation scientific team."

"How big is the Federation team?" Vargas asks.

"At last count, 15, sir. It's led by Dr. Henry Waite, a very respected biochemist. He and most of his team are from Miskatonic University."

A picture of a dapper, middle-aged man with a neat Van Dyke beard comes up. With a small start that no one else notices, T'Var recognizes the face and the name; she and Dr. Waite went to medical school together.

"What are they studying, exactly?" Cheverez asks.

"It's classified, sir. It appears to have something to do with the reaction of living tissue to subspace fields of differing types." She sounds apologetic. "I'm afraid it's not really my field."

"I asked around a bit on my own," Lt. Cmdr. Roble, the Science Officer, says, "and couldn't learn much more than that, either. Dr. Waite and his team are keeping their cards very close to their vest, and Starfleet doesn't seem inclined to ask too many more questions. We're to drop off the animals and cell lines, and remain there for two weeks to address any problems which might develop."

Capt. Singh nods. "And then proceed to Starbase 17 for a brief refit. Thank you, Mr. Hayes. Well done. Any questions or comments?"

Kylah takes the initiative despite being the youngest and the least experienced in the room. Boldness strikes gold while fear gathers only dross, as her father used to say. "Aye sir. A few questions, if I may." Firm up that voice, she thinks--again, her father's warning rings in her ears. "First, are there hopes that this initial experiment will lead to Sakathians joining the Federation? Do we know who the 'aliens' were who put them in such a xenophobic state? And finally..." Kylah clears her throat. "May I ask what experiments are to be performed on the live animals, and if they are to be in any danger?"

Without changing her external expression, Collins mentally rolls her eyes at Kylah's opening blast. "When was the last invasion?" she asks Hayes and the Captain. "If it was recent enough, there may be residual warp signatures we could trace."

As the study itself is apparently classified and not a field he's well versed in besides, Pourtash has little to question. He does look skeptical at this talk of identifying the alien race that invaded, though.

"If the invasions happened in prehistory and they've had warp technology for a century, I think that warp signatures would be a dead end inquiry. Unless I'm mistaken on the timescale described or they suddenly decide they want a Federation archeological team on their homeworld, we're likely limited to what they want to tell us."

Delaney jots a few notes and listens to the discussion.

T'Var says nothing, though she wonders whether to mention her connection to Dr. Waite or not. For now, she will keep silent. If the need arises, however....

Kylah feels her stomach muscles tighten as she looks past Collins to Pourtash. "I understand that there may be no way to chase these aliens down like some vigilante out for revenge," she says, a tad icily--the ice not directed at the good-natured young Pourtash. "But my interest in who they are lies solely in our ability to communicate with these people and avoid any unintentional gaffes. If we are to be allies with them, it might be helpful to know their enemies."

Almost before she finishes speaking, she gives a sideways glance to Dr. T'Var. She's surprised that the doctor, who displayed such vitality and lively curiosity when they met yesterday, has remained silent. Her scowl deepens.

Pourtash's brows raise slightly at Kylah's icy tone of voice, his face remaining calm and collected. He does make a mental note that the new ensign has a fascinatingly mercurial temperament, though. "Of course, I agree entirely. Our best source of information on this--and the one least likely to offend--would presumably be what they're willing to communicate with us and what's been stated in the past."

Nodding, Kylah gives Pourtash a quick smile of thanks. She then shifts her gaze to Delaney. Like T'Var, he too seems surprisingly silent, especially compared to his overwhelming flood of words when they'd met. Perhaps he's less brash than she'd first thought.

The Captain has a look of friendly interest at Kylah's questions, while the First Officer frowns a little. Singh says, "The Sakathians have shown little interest in joining the Federation, although the possibility has certainly been raised with them, beginning with the first Starfleet ship to visit here, the Lepanto, forty years ago. Starfleet Intelligence thinks the Klingons and Romulans may have also had contact with the Sakathians, seeking alliances of some kind, also with little result."

Hayes checks her data tablet notes and says, "To answer your second question, Mr. Kylah: Sakathian legend identifies the invaders as the Guwil and the Vi'sserians, apparently unrelated races which don't match any in Federation records, either today or at any time in the past in this sector. There is some reference in public Sakathian records to archeological excavations on Sakath IV which might reveal more about them, but no offworlder is permitted to go there, as I mentioned."

Cheverez says, "Mr. Pourtash is correct that no trace would remain of any warp signatures this many years later. It's been a long, long time, hasn't it, Mr. Hayes?"

"Yes, sir. Several thousand years, at least."

Roble says, "As to your third question, the Sakathians aren't bound by Federation law as to the humane treatment of test animals, of course, but Dr. Waite and his team are, and he's filed the required project certification to that effect. He has a good reputation and I have no reason to doubt his word."

Pourtash listens in interest, then makes notes on the Sakathian legends.

Kylah bristles internally twice: first, at the mention of the Klingons--their designs on her planet's dilithium deposits nearly cost Elas entrance to the Federation, and she has no wish for anyone on board to remember that unpleasant business; she got enough flak for it at the Academy, mostly good-natured, but... not always.

Next, she tightens her jaw at the use of Mister. No matter how common it is in Starfleet, the sound of a male honorific before her name, after growing up as a Serene Highness, still grates. I'll get used to it, she vows. She got used to going from Serene Highness to mere My Lady upon revelation of her status as an adoptee; she can get used to this as well.

It's the mention of archeological excavations that makes Kylah ignore almost everything else--except the assurance of the safety of the animals under this scientist's care, which does make her sigh in relief. But the chance to explore a new culture, perhaps to discover and decode a new set of runes, symbols or even a whole language not spoken for thousands of years...!

Of course, even if she is allowed to join the landing party, there's the tiny fact that the site is forbidden to offworlders that stands in her way.

She doesn't go any further down this route, casting a wary glance at T'Var. But the Vulcan is still preoccupied. As her gaze starts back to the senior officers, she notices Mr. Pourtash diligently taking notes, looking less like a Starfleet officer than a young student in class, which makes Kylah nearly smile again before returning her attention up front, where it belongs.

"Any other questions or comments?" the Captain asks, looking around the table.

Frowning at the others' silence, Kylah squares her shoulders and speaks up again. "Aye sir. May I ask how big a landing party will be attending to this mission? If it's not too forward, I hope I may assume, by my inclusion in this meeting, that I'll be allowed to take part."

"No, sir." Pourtash glances towards T'Var, wondering if the doctor might have any questions of her own regarding the mission.

T'Var clears her throat, then says, "It would be wise at this point to observe our hosts closely over the next two weeks and learn all we can."

"I would like to see public records of the excavation site," Collins suggests "There may be enough hints to discover who the invaders actually were; The Sakathians may have different names for the races than we do."

"No questions." says Delaney.

"Very well," Singh says. "Mr. Collins will command the boarding party, which will include - at least initially - Dr. T'Var, Mr. Delaney, Mr. Pourtash, Mr. Fujishiro, Mr. Hayes, Mr. Rangin and Mr. Kylah. You each have particular skills which could prove useful. The good doctor is correct, and you're to pay close attention to all you see and hear while you're over there. Any data could be valuable to Starfleet in the long term, until the Sakathians open up more to offworlders and we can freely learn more."

Roble adds, "Mr. Collins, the names we have as to the invaders are those historically applied by, and provided to us by, the Sakathians themselves, as Ens. Hayes said. Please meet with her after this meeting if you'd like to review the public records, scanty as they are, as to archeology on their homeworld." Hayes smiles at Collins and nods.

Ens. Kylah notices that Dr. T'Var seems pensive.

While Collins was asking her question, Kylah shifted her gaze again at T'Var--that terse response, considering the importance of medical and science research during this mission, seemed oddly... portentious, almost.

Kylah knows she shouldn't pry, but she's rarely let 'shouldn't' stop her, so why start now? Especially since T'Var is the only one to have made a genuine effort of friendship so far, and Kylah wants to help, if possible.

The obvious discomfort and... unease? ...Mistrust? Some unidentifiable but definitely unpleasant emotions have been practically radiating from T'Var's body whenever Dr. Waite's name has been mentioned. Unconsciously, Kylah moves a little closer to T'Var--

But then she hears her name mentioned as being on the boarding party. Her head whips around to stare in disbelief at the Captain. Putting her curiosity over T'Var's reactions aside in a mental box marked "deal with later," Kylah can barely keep a lid on her own elation.

"Aye aye, Captain" There's an old, Collins tries to remember which language, word meaning overflowing with pride. Her grandmother taught it to her, what was it ... ah yes. Kvell. Collins kvells to be in charge of the boarding party this mission. She can't wait to tell Ben.

Pourtash flicks his eyes briefly over towards Collins when he hears she'll be commanding the party. Having butted heads with her several times now while he was in command himself, he's curious to see how the dynamic will change with her in charge. He respects her, but they don't always see eye to eye when he's the one making the decisions. Perhaps she'll be more at ease having command herself. Or, he wryly thinks to himself, he'll accidentally find some new way to irritate her and this time she can ignore what he suggests. He'll have to attempt his most diplomatic behavior, then.

"Well done, Mr. Collins," T'Var says to the Security Officer. "I know the boarding party will be in good hands."

The doctor leans over and whispers in Kylah's ear. "A word of advice. First impressions are important. The captain and your crewmates expect your very best efforts on this mission, Kylah."

T'Var smiles. "I have every confidence in you and your abilities."

"Excellent, is there anything specifically I should be looking for?"

Cheverez smiles and says, "Anything and everything you think might be useful, Mr. Delaney. You just never know."

The discussion goes on for awhile longer before the Captain asks, "Anything else?" Hearing nothing, she says, "Very well. Thank you all, and thank you, Mr. Hayes, particularly, for the briefing. Dismissed. Oh, and Mr. Pourtash, please relieve Lt. Vaudreuil on the Bridge in the next half hour." Pourtash knows that the Frenchman has been Bridge Command Duty Officer this watch.

By now it's almost lunchtime.

Once dismissed, Pourtash will rise to go. He gives Collins a nod before leaving. "Congratulations," he offers, then flashes a brief smile towards Kylah. "A pleasure meeting you. I look forward to getting to know each other better."

He debates how much time he has before relieving Lt. Vaudreuil, then decides there's enough for a brief stop by the mess. He'll go to get a glass of doogh--a minted yoghurt drink--which he can finish off before going on to the bridge.

He's unfamiliar with the Sakathians, so is quite looking forward to this mission and learning more about them. Thoughts along those lines keep him preoccupied until he's focused on his current duties once more.

Collins asks Hayes to see the public records of the Sakathians' archeological dig.

Hayes will make sure Collins has the information requested.

Pourtash finds that the doogh aboard ship is still not quite up to his standards; he might want to have a word with the replicator techs about tweaking the programming. It's... palatable, at least.

Hayes accesses the Library Computer and shows Collins the Sakathian archeological records. The Sakathians have not fully opened their records to offworlders, and only extracts and summaries are available. The Assistant Chief of Security learns that the Guwil, a race of tall reptilians, and the Vi'sserians, brutal ursinoids, invaded approximately 9,000 and 5,000 years ago, respectively. Neither lingered on the planet for more than a few years. The sketchy descriptions available of them do not match those of any species known to the Federation to have been in this region. There are some Sakathian legends and folk tales about the invaders but little firm data. There have been about a dozen digs at sites associated with each race, but very little has been found - just some small fragments of metal, plastic and glass, several containing materials not native to Sakath IV.

Collins suggests to Hayes that, once they are in the research station, she attempt to "finesse" the Sakathians into revealing more of their archeological history. "Your knowledge and background make you the best choice for diplomatic negotiations."

T'Var will find a quiet place aboard ship to meditate and calm her troubled mind.

Hayes chuckles. "I will do my best," she tells Collins. "I haven't had a chance to use my diplomatic muscles in a while."

Kylah watches the others leave, focusing more on Dr. T'Var and wishing she hadn't been distracted earlier by the Captain's announcement. Privacy, Kylah, her mother's chastizing words ring in her head. It is sacrosanct. You'll not be admired for breaching others' privacy, no matter how well-intentioned--or accidental--you claim the act to be.

She lags behind and overhears Hayes and Collins, quiet as their discussion has been. Every instinct tells her to volunteer, knowing how useful she could be in their mini-plot, but again, she remembers her mother's words and decides its best to avoid Collins altogether and explore the ship. Straightening her posture, she strides from the room with all the appearance of confidence--though frankly she has no idea where she's headed.

As she walks, she finds herself wishing she hadn't reacted so harshly to Delaney; she also wishes that she'd asked Pourtash if she could visit the Bridge during his watch.

And, for the final in her trinity of regrets: she also wishes she'd returned Pourtash's smile. She'd been so surprised by it that she'd let it pass without reciprocating.

T'Var finds an empty observation lounge in the dorsal connection between the primary and secondary hulls, locks the door, and settles in.

Kylah hears a bosun's whistle sound as she walks down the corridor on Deck 2. A man's voice says, "Ens. Kylah, please report to the Bridge."

The combination of her name with "the Bridge" sends an immediate jolt of electricity through Kylah's body, and she gasps in delight--then turns around to make sure no one heard her. Relieved, and keeping her face more solemn, she hurries to find her way to the turbolift that will take her to Deck 1.

The doors open up and suddenly--here it is. The Yorktown's nerve center. Kylah just stares at everything, drinking it all in. Her first time on a Constitution Class Bridge--aside from the sims back at the Academy, but those had been mere models. This is... this is entirely different. There's life here, and power, and purpose, and activity, and... did she mention power? Her gaze falls on the Captain's chair. Yes, she vows. I'll be sitting there one day. I must.

But for now, she isn't even certain to whom she should report. So she pauses where she is, looking around in hopes of finding the person who'd had her paged without having to ask.

Pourtash makes a mental note to speak to someone about the doogh. He doubts he'll have time that day, but soon. Yoghurt based beverages and dishes are too common an element in the Persian diet for him to be satisfied without at least one such thing done right.

Not long after he's reported to the Bridge to relieve Lt. Vaudreuil, Kylah has arrived to answer her page as well. He glances towards her, catching that gleam in her eye when she looks at the Captain's chair. Something about that drive and hunger for power reminds him a bit of his mother, someone he had admired and striven to be like for most of his life.

Hopefully for her sake that's all they have in common, Pourtash thinks, before pushing those depressing thoughts aside.

Still uncertain, Kylah swallows back her nervous excitement and strides up to Lt. Pourtash, who appears to be acting Command Duty Officer.

"Ensign Kylah reporting for duty, sir," she says, keeping her voice low and firm.

Vaudreuil yields the big chair to Pourtash with a smile and a slight bow. He reports, "Welcome, Mr. Pourtash. I stand relieved. Things have been quiet. We're on course for Sakath V at a steady Warp 6. There was a slight turbolift malfunction on Deck 14 about half an hour ago. The car just stopped and the doors wouldn't open for Lt. Mille and Ens. Mahmoud, but they were able to use the emergency override to get out after a few minutes. It's been taken out of service for repairs; a backup turbolift car is now in circulation. Unless there's something else...? Then the Bridge is yours." He leaves.

When Kylah arrives a minute or two later, someone else speaks up before Pourtash. "It was actually I who paged you, Ensign," says a young Andorian male, turning from the Communications post. He is tall and wiry, with pale blue skin and knobby antennae poking through his unruly silver-white hair. "I'm Lt. Thalen, the Communications Officer. I'm sorry I haven't had the chance to welcome you aboard before; I've been very busy lately." He turns to Pourtash. "With your permission, sir, I will familiarize the Ensign with our Comm protocols and Bridge ops." Although Thalen technically outranks Pourtash, the Persian man is BCDO and thus in charge on the Bridge at the moment.

T'Var breathes deeply in and out. She lets her concentration focus on her breath. T'Var then creates a mental image of the hot, arid desert of Vulcan. She feels the heat on her skin. She lets the warmth engulf her senses.

Images from her past flow in and out with each breath. T'Var feels the anger and hurt rise up from deep within her. She lets these emotions come as they will.

T'Var creates a mental shield that surrounds her mind from these unwanted emotions. The shield pushes the anger and hurt away. Her mind calms a bit. Her breathing deepens. She is at peace....

Delaney checks over his to do list. Realizes he better review the preventive maintence work before the away duty begins and pulls a random set of records from the computer and contacts the appropriate personnel. He begins with the check on the Engineering console on the bridge and asks the tech that did the work to join him.

Kylah waits for Pourtash to give permission to Lt. Thalen, barely curtailing her desire to bounce anxiously on her toes. She knows he'll grant the request; it doesn't take a mind-reader to know that there's no reason not to, and besides, Pourtash seems extremely reasonable. He's just about the only person she's met on board so far who hasn't treated her like a first year cadet, with either condescension or advice she didn't need--even though in T'Var's case, it was given with the best of intentions.

She blurts out: "Thank you, Lt. Thalen, I'm most anxious and ready to begin my dut--to begin learning my duties," she amends tactfully, sensing the hint of irritation from her superior at her presumption.

In fact, her own mind is already on the upcoming mission, and though it's certainly necessary to become familiar with the starship's communications procedures, the truth is, Kylah already knows them. She's spent endless time on sims and late night studying the Yorktown's schematics upon learning of her assignment here. By now, going to the comm station will be like returning to her comfortable old desk in the royal family's private schoolroom, where she knew every notch, every scratchmark, every impatiently-drawn doodle kept hidden from her uptight tutor.

The mission, though... Her first chance to meet a truly new culture, to learn and decode a new language... What will she find there? How can she make her mark? What might she discover that will show how useful she'll be to Starfleet and the Federation. And... and of course, Elas.

Aldaan, her guardian, spoke to her before she made her final goodbyes from her siblings on her last visit home post-graduation; he reminded her of the burden of responsibilities she owed to Elas. She'd reminded him flatly that her responsibilities and allegience have been pledged to the Federation now. His hand on her shoulder had squeezed tightly in annoyance, but he nodded with patently false agreement. "Nevertheless, anything you learn that could be of use to us, you'll bring back to me. As long as it does not contradict your loyalty to our new brethren in the sacred Federation," he added with his own dry sarcasm. But as always, she knew what his true feelings were. And he knew she knew--what was the point of his obsequious words? Ah yes. The servants, her siblings, and a few of her guardian's fellow diplomats were there too. One must put on a good show.

But her guardian and his manipulative ways are far away now, and she can ignore his unspoken commands. Or at least try to. You are here now, she reminds herself, finding some comfort in Pourtash's pleasant, open face and demeanor. Aldaan is not.

Collins arranges to meet Ensign Cooper for lunch. She picks as secluded a table as is available in the Mess and waits for him. "He'll be thrilled for me, I know" she thinks, "I just need to talk out my fears with someone not involved in the mission."

T'Var's meditation goes well. She remembers that she can adjust the climate in the room to make it much hotter and drier, if she wishes.

Crewman T'Pas, a Command Subsystems technician, promptly reports to the Yorktown's Bridge at Delaney's request. The Vulcan female explains the PM work she's done on the Engineering console there, just to the left of the turbolift doors as you enter the Bridge. Delaney is pleased to see that everything is shipshape.

Pourtash says, "Of course, Mr. Thalen. Carry on." He settles back in the big chair, enjoying the feel of it once more, and takes an offered data tablet with a sensor calibration update from a yeoman in Sciences blue.

Thalen shakes Kylah's hand and says, "Please, have a seat. How are you finding the ship so far?"

Cooper is happy to meet Collins for lunch, and gives her a kiss as they take their seats. "What's up, Jeremi? You look like the gedden that ate the Rigellian canary."

Pourtash smiles a bit wryly at Vaudreuil's greeting. He makes a mental note regarding that turbolift car, in case any new malfunctions come up. It sounds fairly minor, though. He's hoping everything is as gloriously uneventful for him. "No, nothing else. Thank you."

Once Pourtash is settled in, he'll listen to Lt. Thalen's explanation regarding paging Ens. Kylah. "Of course, Mr. Thalen. Carry on." It still strikes him as a little strange to do that, as BCDO. It feels good and eventually captaining his own ship is his ultimate goal, but he still hasn't entirely settled into the idea that he's gotten as far as he has. It always feels just a touch presumptous at first.

That Kylah is eager to begin seems obvious enough and he glances towards her again, giving her a small nod of acknowledgment. It occurs to him that he really knows very little about her, beyond the snippets of information from before the meeting. In temperament, it seems as though she and Collins would be likely prone to clashing, based on what he knows of the Assistant Chief of Security and what little he's seen of Kylah's dramatically shifting moods. Then again, when he'd first met Delaney he'd been deeply worried about them possibly sharing a cabin, as they were both so different in their outward behavior. Since then, he's come to respect and like Delaney, placing great value in his breathless bursts of thought. Maybe Collins and Kylah will similarly work well together.

He then turns his attention back to his duties, accepting the offered data tablet.

Kylah sits and her greedy gaze fairly swallows up all the sensors and buttons that surround her. She almost doesn't hear Thalen's question, but after an internal pinch she offers a belated: "It is a beautiful ship, sir, and the crew seem extraordinarily competent. I like it very well indeed."

Yeoman Peters waits patiently as Pourtash reviews the sensor calibration report. It doesn't take long, as Lt. Cmdr. Roble has already signed off on it, and there appear to be no problems. Pourtash takes the stylus, signs his approval as BCDO, and nods in thanks to Peters. She smiles, takes the tablet and leaves. Pourtash is slightly distracted by her curves as she moves away, and forces his attention to the main viewscreen, on which the stars are steadily streaming past. Ens. Horst Leventhal is at the Helm, to his left, and Ens. Luisa Guzman is at Nav, to his right.

"Good," Thalen says to Kylah. "I know it can be hard coming aboard a new ship, especially fresh out of the Academy. But the Yorktown is a good posting, and I hope you find it to your liking. I'm head of the Lyceum, by the way, so if there's anything about Elasian culture - music, drama, comedy, poetry, whatever - that you'd like to share, I'd be glad to arrange for a performance. As to the Comm panel, I'm sure you know your way around already...?"

Pourtash rather hopes his temporary distraction wasn't noticed by anyone else. Yeoman Peters is quite lovely--he's surprised he hadn't noticed her beauty before and wonders if she might be among the recent transfers or if he was just particularly unobservant--but there are better things for him to be seen looking at currently. Of course, he thinks to himself, there's no shame in being a young man with eyes.

Kylah nods her gratitude and finally tears her gaze from the panel. "Yes, sir, I've been studying Constitution-class ships and particularly their communication stations every free moment I've had since joining the Academy. And even more particularly, the Yorktown, ever since my--ever since I learned of my posting." She feels her face burn and to hide it she looks back at the station.

She can't believe she nearly mentioned Aldaan. Slips of the tongue like that display an egregious lack of control. She was supposed to have learned of her assignment the same way everyone else did--not through her guardian's diplomatic machinations.

"I... I play a zither, an Elasian zither," she continues much more casually, changing the subject. "I would not think myself ready to perform on my own, but... if there are any ensembles that might have need of such an instrument, I would consider it an honor to audition."

As she looks up, she notices the direction of Pourtash's gaze, and glances to see what has him so enthralled. Oh. She quickly swivels back to face Thalen, a bit irritable for no reason in particular. "Do you play, sir?"

"Good job T'Pas. Carry on." Delaney says after the check. He then spends a bit of time checking the Engineering console.

"I'm a little apprehensive, is all," Jeremi tells Ben as they eat, "I've been put in charge of the landing party for the Sakathian mission. But I've seen what the stress of command can do to a young officer." She pauses to sip some coffee. "I have worked with most of the team before, we all came aboard at the same time. Except Ensign Kylah. She's Elasian and very cold. At first I thought she was just conceited but now I don't know. I'm a little worried she won't take orders from me. We did not get off to a good start."

Dr. T'Var returns to Sickbay -- a place where her duties provide a strong sense of peace and balance.

Yeoman Melissa Peters is in her mid-twenties, petite and attractive, with thick chestnut hair. Pourtash hasn't really noticed her before, but she's not on the Yorktown's Bridge all that often.

Thalen tells Kylah, "I'd certainly like to hear you play sometime. I can sing a little, and I like to paint when I have time, but I'm not especially good at either. I'm better at appreciating others' talents than expressing my own, to be blunt." He shrugs. "Well, Ensign, to business. Have a seat, and explain the Communications station's functions to me, please." Kylah sits down and, after a deep breath, begins telling the Andorian officer all she knows about subspace communications, internal communications, backup systems, encryption, emergency overrides, recorder marker buoys, the universal translator and log archiving. Her hands touch each switch and button as she briefly describes their functions. Thalen, resting one arm on the back of her seat as he leans down, seems impressed. He has an occasional question but otherwise just listens.

T'Pas nods to Delaney and leaves. He continues his work at the Engineering station, giving his attention for awhile to the moment-by-moment warp field variances - all well within acceptable parameters - but also noticing Thalen and Kylah not far away.

Down in the Mess Hall on Deck 8, Ben bursts into a grin and says, "That's fantastic news, Jeremi! You're going to do a great job, I know. I haven't met Kylah but I'm sure you can handle her. She swore the same oath you did; why don't you think she'd follow your orders?"

Dr. T'Var finds things are quiet in Sickbay. She looks at her schedule for tomorrow and sees that she is to conduct five full annual physical examinations, including those of Cmdr. Vargas, Lt. JG Collins, Chief Harrison, Crewman Dodson and Crewman Sinclair. As she calls up their medical records for review, she notices Dr. Helen Noel ushering a pale, shaken-looking young man in Command yellow out of her office.

T'Var waits until the young man has left Sickbay, then asks Dr. Noel if there is anything she can do for this young man from her medical standpoint.

Collins sighs "Okay, Ben, here's my big, deep, dark secret. Inside, I'm really just an insecure 13 year old who believes everyone is out to get her. Grown-up-me is constantly battling her, even though I did well at the Academy, well enough to be assigned aboard the Enterprise, even though I've been studying command logs and manuals since coming aboard, even though," she pauses, no, she thinks, this is not the time to bring that up, "even though I know my job, sometimes that 13 year old wins."

After reciting every protocol and every possible usage of each command button and switch on the communications panel--including a few unconventional combinations that Kylah hopes impressed Lt. Thalen--she falls quiet at last. She flickers a glance at Delaney to her right, who seems to have been paying attention to her recitation as well, and then just as quickly turns away from him.

"Is that satisfactory, sir?" she asks Thalen, though the direction of her gaze probably makes it seem as if she's aiming the question to the panel itself.

Dr. Noel seems a little distracted, but sighs, smiles wearily to T'Var and says, "No, thank you, T'Var. Just some issues he needs to work through. We're making progress, but sometimes... well, it feels like it's three steps forward and two steps back." T'Var does not recognize the patient.

Cooper raises an eyebrow and says, "You keep that 13-year-old pretty well concealed, Jer. I'm glad you told me, but really, you're doing well here and I know you'll continue doing so. You're big enough to handle whatever the Universe might throw at you." He takes her hand. "Any plans for tonight?"

Thalen nods to Kylah. "Well done, Ensign! Very well done indeed. I'm putting you on the duty roster. You'll stand your first Bridge watch tomorrow at 0800, if you feel up to it."

"The medical profession has always been like that," T'Var says, allowing herself a bit of a sigh as well. "And I believe it always will be."

Jeremi smiles and squeezes Ben's hand. "I do, now"

Pourtash continues with his duties on Bridge, which so far have been as routine as he'd hoped they might be. He does overhear that Kylah will be assigned her first Bridge Watch tomorrow. Good for her, he thinks in passing. It's always good to see someone succeeding.

Dr. Noel nods to T'Var. "How right you are! Sometimes I think every psychiatrist should be required to write that a hundred times or so before certification."

Ben squeezes back, and grins. "Well, what are we waiting for, then?"

Pourtash watches the stars stream past on the viewscreen as the Yorktown tirelessly makes her way towards Sakath V. It's a quiet watch, all in all. Lt. Cmdr. Roble relieves him, right on time, at the end of it.

The chronometers silently turn over to 2000 hours, and with that, shipboard "night" has arrived.

Jeremi suggests they try her cabin tonight. "I think Ensign Kylah may be elsewhere. And if she isn't, I know a quiet area in the cargo bay."

Pourtash heads for the Mess to get something to eat before he turns in for the night, something a bit heartier than a dairy beverage alone. A simple bowl of stew with rice and a cup of chai seems filling enough. He'll settle in to eat, idly taking note of those around him.

Nerves afire with anticipatory excitement, Kylah heads back to her quarters just in time to spot her new roommate and a handsome man entering. She stops in the hallway and scowls at the room. Damn it. She hoped to do a little more studying just to make certain she's absolutely ready for tomorrow's assignment.

The way Collins and her... friend... looked and acted together made it clear to Kylah they're more than mere colleagues. Unprofessional, she thinks with a lift of her chin. Shipboard romances ought to be discouraged. Kylah knows that if inclined, she could make a man turn mad with desire for her--it's part of all Elasian women's biology. A few tears, a well-timed embrace, and voila: instant romantic intoxication.

But what is the point? It all seems so useless and distracting to Kylah. Not to mention somewhat unfair to the man. Not that Kylah should judge other Elasian women, especially considering her own behavior and skills could (and have) been seen in an unflattering light. Still. Unlike Collins and her--well, whatever that attractive man is to Collins-- Kylah has no intention to treat the Yorktown as some sort of assignation hub.

The longer she stands at the door, the more uncomfortable she grows, and soon she's walking very quickly indeed, red-faced, until eventually she finds the Mess. Of course there's no Elasian fare yet--she being the first one in Starfleet, as far as she knows. Still, they might have programmed some in after Dohlman Elaan's visit, Kylah thinks crabbily. She settles for some sort of boiled wheat-and fermented dairy-based dish called "Macraoni and Cheese" that doesn't seem too repulsive, then takes her tray and turns around. No one notices her, no one calls her over. Not surprising. Then she spots the familiar face of Lt. Pourtash. Would it be too presumptuous to greet him? He was temporarily acting captain today, and obviously ahead of her in the ship's hierarchy. Still... she remembers his smiles, and friendly, encouraging nods, and... Oh, stop wavering and just try and see.

She stops by his table. "Good evening, Mr. Pourtash," she says abruptly when he doesn't look up from his indecipherable food. "May I--may I be seated?"

Dr. T'Var notices with a bit of irritation that her Vulcan stomach is growling. She heads to the Mess Hall for something to eat. Addicted to human food, T'Var chooses a plate of baked chicken and mashed potato with brown gravy. And, of course, a cup of Vulcan Spice Tea -- her favorite beverage.

She notices Kylah and Pourtash, then walks over to them.

"May I join you?" T'Var asks.

Collins and Cooper don't notice Kylah as they go into Collins's quarters and lock the door. They soon forget about everything in the Universe except each other.

"What are you three up to?" Dr. Giancarlo Bucci says, walking over to the table a few seconds after Dr. T'Var. He jokes, "Some sort of nefarious scheme, I'm sure. Mind if I sit down, too?" The plump Italian physician's Mess Hall tray is piled high with pasta and garlic bread. He also has a large glass of red wine.

Pourtash glances up when he hears Kylah, somewhat surprised that she approached him. "Oh, yes. Please! I was hoping to get a chance to talk with you more. I'm not the best at figuring out when I should approach someone, though." He pauses, then adds wryly, "Particularly when I don't know them well."

He's never been particularly well at making new friends, he reflects. Arrogance and a touch of standoffishness had been his primary problem before, and though a few events shook some of that arrogance out of him they also replaced it with far more concern over what people thought. Some guilt over his own confused thoughts on his mother and what he believed was likely largely responsible for that.

Pourtash smiles and nods to Dr. T'Var and Dr. Bucci both, gesturing for them to sit. The growing crowd at his table is more than welcome.

"Congratulations on impressing Thalen today," he offers to Kylah. "I'd thought you would. You seem quite confident in your abilities."

T'Var sits and begins cutting up her chicken as she listens to the table conversation.

Relieved to be invited, Kylah sits. There seemed to have been some delay in Pourtash's response, but apparently it wasn't due to reluctance to socialize with her.

Before either can speak, Dr. T'Var arrives and is invited to sit, soon followed by a large, robust man wearing science blue. His plate seems to weigh nearly as much as he does. As usual, Kylah makes a quick judgment of the stranger, despite the many remonstrations she's received from her parents over the years for doing just that. Gregarious. Friendly--almost forcibly so. Seems very important for him to join us. Why?

Pourtash's compliment recaptures her attention, and she bows her head. "Your praise does me great honor, sir," she says, following the standard protocol for formal intercourse on Elas--though usually such humble remarks would be said to a member of the royal family, not by one. Then, bobbing her head back up, a burst of honesty follows: "This was not the path I thought I'd follow, but having joined the Academy I took every opportunity to learn and excel in this field."

She hesitates while stabbing a forkful of macaroni, looking at it dubiously before returning her gaze to Pourtash. "You too seemed highly capable in the Captain's chair. Have you spent many hours on Bridge duty in this capacity?"

"A little here and there. I'm still getting used to it, to be honest. My goal is to captain my own ship, so every time I find myself in that chair I wonder if it's a dream." Pourtash grins at Kylah to indicate it's only a joke. There is still that moment of awe when he considers the trust bestowed in him. True, many others have that same trust, but he still values it deeply.

That thought makes him think on Collins briefly, wondering if she feels the same way about leading the party. She'd looked understandably proud.

"I got the impression your goals might mirror mine," he adds casually. He'd seen that gleam in Kylah's eyes, after all.

He takes a sip of his chai, then looks to the two medical officers. "And how have you been? I haven't had much of a chance to speak with you recently, T'Var."

"I am well, Mr. Pourtash," T'Var replies. "Of course, my duties in Sickbay keep me quite busy."

T'Var smells the garlic bread on Bucci's plate and frowns. "An interesting choice of nourishment, Doctor," she says.

"Would you like a taste?" Bucci asks at once, holding a piece towards her. "Garlic bread. An old favorite of mine. It's not bad. Not as good as you can get in Italy, but not bad."

T'Var wrinkles her nose, then shakes her head in the negative. "Perhaps another time," she says.

"Yes, I imagine your duties, do," Pourtash agrees, nodding slightly as T'Var answers his question. He does look somewhat curiously when he notices what she's eating after Bucci's offer of the garlic bread.

"You're not a vegetarian?" He sounds a bit uncertain as he asks that, as he doesn't know whether or not it would be deemed an intrusive question to ask a Vulcan. He'd only had limited interaction with them before being assigned to the Yorktown.

"No," T'Var says. "I am not."

The doctor takes a bite of her chicken. "I enjoy all forms of typical human food."

T'Var takes another bite or two of the chicken. "I have also discovered that gravy adds to the flavor of most human foods." T'Var scoops of a spoonful of mashed potato and gravy. "Quite tasty."

Kylah looks longingly at the chicken. If it were on her plate, she would be fighting the instinct to tear into that meat the way nature intended -- not the neat, precise way T'Var is cutting and eating her meal. But since their alliance with Troylius, Elasians in public now show respect for their former Dohlman's sacrifice by emulating the dainty, foppish behavior Her Glory learned to endure in order to be 'acceptable' as queen of Troylius. Even though it still seems ridiculously inefficient to use metal instruments to emulate what the teeth and fingers could do so easily.

This internal struggle is why Kylah chose this mushy (yet, she must admit to herself after a few bites, very tasty) food. Even before the alliance, Elasians used a utensil similar to spoons for such fare.

She's learned a lot at the Academy, and no doubt serving aboard the ship will teach her even more. Her cousin is the new Dohlman, so elected by the Council of Nobles. Her past on Elas seems very, very distant now.

So, though by Elasian custom everyone should be introducing themselves to her, not to mention begging her pardon for not kneeling, Kylah forces herself to turn to the large man seated beside her. "We have not yet met," she says abruptly, again forgetting to add the customary 'sir'. "I am Ensign Kylah, from Elas. You are a colleague of Dr. T'Var's?"

"That's lucky for you, then. I imagine human food is done better on board here than that of any other cultures." Pourtash takes another bite of his stew, musing on that for a moment. "Though some human cultures get their food better than others. I've always enjoyed trying new things, but I haven't really found anything I like more for every day eating than what I grew up with." Using his spoon, he gestures at the stew. It's not quite what he might have had at home, but satisfying enough.

T'Var's commentary on gravy makes him grin, reminding him briefly of his family. They've been on his mind quite a bit lately. "My little sister Parveen decided that chocolate pudding and chicken go perfectly together. She's yet to get anyone else to try it, as far as I know."

Pourtash is quiet while Kylah introduces herself to Dr. Bucci, though his face reflects his surprise when she says that she's from Elas. She hadn't said that when he first introduced himself to her and he'd assumed she was human, possibly even with some Middle Eastern ancestry with her coloring and features. While he's read that Elasians do look quite similar to humans--though their males are quite a bit taller--he still feels foolish for his mistake.

"Are you the first Elasian to serve in Starfleet?"

Since the other man appears to be too busy stuffing his face to respond, Kylah turns to Pourtash. "Yes, as far as I know. We had not yet formally joined the Federation when I began at the Academy, and it was... not a typical decision for one of my people. We have always been warriors and do not easily adjust to such strict regulations and non--" She stops herself before the word productive leaves her lips, and quickly adjusts: "Non-military missions."

Pourtash nods as Kylah talks, looking genuinely interested. Elasians had been known to the UFP for quite some time, but they're fairly new to him, and thus novel and interesting. "I'd done some reading on Elas before, but I'm afraid I only know the barest of essentials. The warrior culture, a little bit of the history, the unusual repro--" No, no, he's almost certain that would be rude.

"I'd be very interested in hearing about your experiences as one of the first of your people in Starfleet, if you'd ever care to talk about them."

Kylah looks at him without a change in her expression, though she's easily able to intuit his original intended comment. Males, she thinks. Every species, every race, they're just the same. I should weep copious tears and let him have his own experience with Elasians--let him see just how cruelly our love can turn a sane man mad.

Actually, she has yet to produce that particular effect from the infamous Elasian Tears--though certainly her Guardian and some other men have been in contact with her while she wept for one reason or another. She assumes that, as her adoptive mother told her, she's a "late bloomer," as the Terran expression goes.

"Certainly, Mr. Pourtash. I would be glad to talk to you, if you're genuinely interested in learning about my Starfleet experiences," she says, mentally adding: And not just my sexual experiences.

Pourtash draws his brows together and looks mildly puzzled by that comment from Kylah. Oh, of course. She caught what he almost said and interpreted it in an entirely different way than he'd meant. Telling her that he found the idea of Elasian Tears more horrifying than titillating would probably not help matters, he mused, but he couldn't help but laugh. Knowing now that she was Elasian, he could recognize the aspects of the culture he'd read about in what had seemed slightly odd behavior for a human before.

"That is the only experience of yours I'm interested in, Ensign Kylah," he assures her, not unkindly. "I can imagine being the first has to be a very isolating and frustrating experience, particularly since so few at the Academy have had experience with your people."

Though bridling at his laughter--no Elasian woman takes kindly to being the object of mockery--Kylah takes a moment of examination, reading Pourtash's eyes, his expression, his sincerity, which almost radiates from him. Finally she relaxes. In truth, the young man has articulated much of how she's felt for the past few years.

But her pride will not let her admit such a weakness. She keeps her tone casual. "There have been some necessary adjustments required to my habits and behavior, as well as the natural sense of... of being different from those around me. But this is a state with which I am familiar, of course. My status on Elas set me apart from others, so I am used to it." A blatant lie, but no one around the table--except perhaps T'Var, but she doesn't appear to be concentrating on Kylah at all--would be able to call Kylah's bluff. So she just gives Pourtash one of her quick, rare smiles, and looks down at her plate. To her surprise she realizes she's grateful for his kind insight, and now she doesn't know whether to hope he asks another question, or to dread it.

Dread wins out, and she races to find a question to stave off any of Pourtash's curiosity. "You are from Earth," she blurts, as if accusing him. "From where in particular?"

The fact that Kylah isn't accusing Pourtash of lechery relieves him and he returns her smile warmly. He gets the impression she doesn't smile often. Just as well, he thinks, as those smiles could be as dangerous as Tears. The descriptions of Elasian beauty had not been exaggerations. It's likely for the benefit of everyone aboard the ship that she's either unaware of the devastating effect she could have on human males, or simply disinterested in it, he decides.

"What was your status on Elas?" he asks curiously. "If it isn't rude to ask, that is."

When Kylah blurts out her question about his origins, Pourtash raises a brow slightly, somewhat surprised. He considers for a moment how best to answer that question, since he's unsure of how much she knows about Earth cultures. Simply saying 'Iran' wouldn't necessarily tell her much. "My family is part of the Persian people. The region they came from is also called 'Iran', which is in the western part of the continent Asia. It ranges from desert to subtropical forest; it's fairly dry and warm. As the home of the Persian people it has a history that dates back thousands of years. It was once the largest empire Earth ever saw, controlling almost half the population of the planet. It's significantly less influential now."

"Less influential, perhaps," Kylah says, tilting her head and trying to understand his expression. "But your homeland clearly has an esteemed history of great power and might. You are justly proud of it. I admit that until I left for the Academy, I knew nothing of Earth save for it being the seat of the Federation. When I arrived, and throughout my training, I was somewhat overwhelmed by its history of land wars and divided terrain. My own planet has never been divided in this manner. Of course," she adds with as little bitterness as she can keep from her tone, "that has recently changed. Now we are bound to Troyius, and further bound to the Federation, as our Council so decided."

Dangerous territory here. She decides to back swiftly away. "To answer your question, I belong to the Elasian royal family. My cousin Elaan, now Queen of Troyius, was our Dohlman--the leader of our planet. Now that position is held by His Glory, Telarias. Though, since he is yet too much a child, our Council of Nobles must appoint a Regent to rule in his stead. The position is naturally much sought-after, and the decision has not been made though nearly two years have passed."

She takes a long sip of water, sighing with relief into the glass. She's almost proud of doing such a neat job of explaining--downplaying, really--the intricate web of ambition, greed, manipulation and deceit that constitutes her planet's leadership, and her family in particular.

"Division seems to differ wildly planet by planet," Pourtash agrees thoughtfully. "I know some races have been as divided or worse than Earth used to be, but many others aren't and don't appear to have ever been. Sometimes it amazes me, with how different cultures can be, that it's even possible for any of us to speak to one another."

The science of astrophysics and warp technology all made far more sense to him than the somewhat less glamorized world of communications. That such wildly different species could communicate with one another often seamlessly thanks to translation never failed to strike him as miraculous.

When Kylah identifies herself as a member of the Elasian royal family, Pourtash's brows raise nearly to his hairline and he glances at T'Var, wondering if she had known about Kylah's background. "That has to be incredibly difficult, going from the royal family to being treated like any other ensign."

"If I may interject...." T'Var says, then takes a sip of her tea. "Whatever our individual history may be, service in Starfleet is of equal value -- whatever our rank or position."

"Sorry, Ensign," the human doctor says, putting down his fork. "You caught me in the middle of a mouthful. Dr. Giancarlo Bucci, at your service. I'm a medical officer and a virology researcher. I'm very pleased to meet you." He hears Dr. T'Var's last remark, and raises his glass. "Well said, T'Var! We all swore the same oath, and we all serve the Federation, of course, regardless of where we came from or how we ended up here."

Pourtash smiles wryly at Dr. Bucci's raising of his glass to T'Var's comments and raises his own glass of...well, tea. Probably not the most appropriate toast, but the sentiment is there. "True enough, T'Var. I can't argue with that."

"I am pleased to meet you as well, Dr. Bucci," Kylah says, a bit slowly. The large man's gregarious, breezy charm almost overwhelms her, but she senses a keen and focused mind behind those laughing eyes.

After T'Var makes her comment--which appears to be tacitly warning Kylah not to boast of her background--Kylah watches as the others echo this paean to Starfleet loyalty with the drinking ceremony Kylah knows is common on Earth.

Kylah does not follow suit. instead she practically glues her gaze to her plate and falls silent. She has no wish to earn a third rebuke, tacit or not, from the kind and well-intentioned T'Var.

Pourtash finishes off the last of his tea, then collects his things to get to his feet. It's been a rather long day and he's already promised his free time to some obligations, so sleep seems the most reasonable use for the rest of his night. "It was nice chatting with you all, but I should be going. Have a good night."

"Good night," T'Var says to Pourtash. And to the others, "Perhaps we should all get some rest."

At 2245, Jeremi nudges Ben "I never did warn my cabin mate that I was going to have company. I have no idea how she'll react. Perhaps you should return to your cabin and I'll see you at breakfast."
Once Ben leaves, Jeremi composes a message to be delivered at 0700 the next day. She addresses it to the members of her boarding party. It reads:
"Good morning. I have been remiss, spending all my time with my partner and none with you all. I suggest we all meet for dinner in the Mess at 1830. *We could chat. *See you then. [signed] Lt JG Jeremi Collins"

Kylah does not look at T'Var or Pourtash as they get up to leave, preferring to remain in the Mess a little while longer -- both out of discomfort for what she might find if she returns to her and Collins' quarters, and from sheer bloody-mindedness. T'Var and her pointed suggestions are beginning to remind Kylah of her governess.

When they've gone, she finally removes her gaze from the half-finished plate of macaroni. The other doctor has not yet left. "Dr. Bucci, if you wish to go as well, please do not wait on my account. I mean," she adds abruptly, "I would be glad of the company, but if you must go, I would not wish to keep you."

He glances at the bulkhead chrono and covers a yawn. "Is it really that late? Well, I don't have to go, but some sleep would probably do me good. I hope we can break bread some other time, though, Ensign. Good night." He drinks the last of his wine, returns his tray to the replicator slot and leaves. Only a few other people remain elsewhere in the Mess.

With a sigh, Kylah pushes away her tray and, noticing a few drops of the red wine spilled by the now-departed doctor, somewhat childishly places a fingertip on the droplets, drawing with them and mulling over her first day and looking ahead to the mission tomorrow.

As she thinks, her lazy fingertip absently describes a looped figure that looks much like a blood-colored version of the seventh letter of the English alphabet, a language that, of course, she learned back at the Academy. Shaking her head, she scowls at the mess, not sure what prompted this silly bit of fingerpainting, and hurries to wipe it up before the few remaining crew in the Mess notice.

At last she returns to her quarters, glad to find Collins sleeping--alone. Soon she too is lying in bed, looking out at the stars near her window until she finally falls asleep.

Ben had been a little disgruntled at having to leave so soon, but a long kiss and a warm if regretful smile from Collins go a long way towards mollifying him.

The Yorktown sails on through the night, her warp engines steadily driving her towards the Sakathian research station. Lt. Thalen, standing a graveyard watch as BCDO, somewhat drowsily passes the time in the big chair reading a classic Andorian novel, Once More A King, by Thulle. He sighs. The book never quite engages him; he can't tell if it's the book itself or his own slight fatigue.

Time passes, the watch draws to a close, and a new shipboard day arrives. Corridor and duty station lights brighten throughout the ship. Kylah is due for her first watch on the Bridge at 0800; Collins has her annual checkup with Dr. T'Var at 0830. Delaney wakes to a message from the Chief Engineer asking him to check on a possible deuterium pump malfunction on Deck 15 by noon; it is not an emergency.

Hayes and Fujishiro respond to Collins's message, accepting her dinner invitation. "Looking forward to it," Hayes adds.

Delaney will take a junior Engineer with him to check on the pump. He pulls up the maintenance log on it and verifies if we have spare parts. He grabs his tools and goes to work.

T'Var accepts the dinner invitation from Collins, then heads to Sickbay.

Collins has only decaf tea at breakfast. She was about to select her usual egg and cheese omelet, then remembered her physical is this morning. "I'll have a heartier lunch," she thinks. When Ensign Cooper arrives, she greets him warmly and again apologizes for the shortened evening.
"I'll be having dinner with the members of my boarding party. You are welcome to join us."

Kylah arrives at the Bridge much earlier than necessary, waiting outside the door so she doesn't seem even more over-anxious than she already is. Her early-morning chat with her roommate was brief, just accepting Collins's invitation for tonight before Kylah hurried out to grab an even briefer breakfast, and finally a dash to Deck 1 and the Bridge.

At last it's 07:50 and she decides she's waited long enough. A few minutes early isn't a problem--she'll be able to get a briefing from the current occupant of the Comm chair.

She enters and immediately turns to the captain's chair. "Ensign Kylah, reporting for duty."

Delaney looks over the current Yorktown Engineering duty roster and chooses Ens. Mikhail Trigorin, Pourtash's roommate, to help him. The friendly, talkative Russian is an impulse drive maintenance and deuterium fuel management specialist. The Assistant Chief Engineer learns from the maintenance log that the pump was last checked four days earlier and was in good working order then. When he and Trigorin open up the access panel, however, they see that the pump is now somewhat burned and sooty. Trigorin whistles. "It's a good thing we didn't have a fire," he says. They have the parts, but Delaney knows repairs are likely to be time-consuming.

Cooper tells Collins, "Don't worry about last night; I had fun. And dinner sounds good - thanks. See you then!" He gives her a kiss and grabs a chocolate muffin as he leaves for his watch in the Shuttlebay.

Capt. Singh has just relieved Thalen on the Bridge when Kylah arrives. "Ah, here she is!" the Captain says with a smile. "Mr. Thalen tells me I should expect great things from you, Ensign. Take your post, if you please."

Throughout the morning, Dr. T'Var conducts her five scheduled annual physical examinations. She is thorough, and each takes about an hour. Cmdr. Vargas seems impatient but is healthy as a horse, and she gives him a clean bill of health. Chief Harrison's cholesterol is slightly elevated and his vision has deteriorated a bit since last year, but nothing too serious. Crewman Dodson has had a persistent rash on her left elbow that is not responding to treatment, and Crewman Sinclair could stand to lose a little weight. Lt. JG Collins is in excellent health but is, T'Var sees with some surprise on her medical tricorder's screen, about a week pregnant. For the moment the Vulcan physician says nothing, but Collins notices her expression change.

"Whatever it is, Doctor, it better not keep me from this mission." Collins starts running through everything in her mind. What on earth does that tricorder say? I haven't indulged since boarding the Yorktown, so it can't be that.

"If you would excuse me for a moment," T'Var says to Collins. "I shall return shortly."

T'Var finds Dr. Villa and hands her the medical tricorder. "I thought you should see this," she says to the CMO.

Kylah greets her Captain and takes a seat at the Communications station. After noting the reports and briefings from Lt. Thalen's shift, which seems to have been uneventful, Kylah begins to search for any incoming communications, as well as overseeing any outgoing communications, as necessary. In truth she knows her job is a fairly dull one during the majority of the ship's travels; 90% of the time, there are no incoming or outgoing messages. But the 10% of the time when Communications become vital -- ah, that's definitely worth waiting for. And her first mission off the ship, when her knowledge of specific cultures and other various abilities not covered by the Universal Translator will be coming to the fore? The very thought makes her blood race more quickly through her veins.

Plus she's just thrilled to be sitting here, not three yards from Captain Singh herself, one of the crew doing her duty. At long last, she belongs somewhere. Her expression remains neutral but her gaze fairly dances with delight as it scans the panel in front of her.

Before anything else Delaney logs the visual problem including pics and then begins analyzing the pump for what went wrong and if something happened to it. He pulls the log from 4 days ago and calls that tech down to also assist.

Dr. Villa, in her small office just off the main ward of Sickbay, looks at the tricorder, and her eyes widen a little. "Well, I can't say it's the first time it's happened on a starship. Have you told her yet? How would you like to proceed?"

Kylah finds no incoming transmissions from the previous watch. The last incoming messages the Yorktown received were late yesterday, a Starfleet advisory about ion storms far away in the Eminiar sector, and a listing of the latest promotions and reassignments among top admirals at Starfleet Command. Within her first hour on duty, there are three outgoing messages ready to be encrypted and sent out: an Astrophysics report, a transfer request, and a summary of the senior officers' log entries for the previous day.

Engineering Spec/2 Jessie Barnes was the last tech to see the deuterium pump, four days ago. She is a somewhat plain young woman and seems nervous when she reports to Delaney. She glances at the pump and then back to him. "Wow. Um... is there something I can help you with, sir?"

"She is unaware -- I assume -- of her pregnancy at this time." T'Var checks the tricorder readings yet again. "I do not know how Mr. Collins will react to this news."

T'Var heads for the door. "I will return in a moment."

The doctor says to Collins, "Would you please join me in the CMO's office?"

Collins springs off the exam bed and sprints into Dr. Villa's office.

As she prepares to encrypt the small number of outgoing messages, Kylah hesitates.

"A career track in Communications will tempt you with many opportunities to indulge your curiosity, cadet," her mentor at the Academy had warned her. "It's caused the death of innumerable cats. Remember, there are some things it's better not to know."

Of course, she hadn't understood the cat reference until learning it was some Earth homily. But Kylah had disagreed with her mentor then, and she disagrees now. Knowledge, as she's experienced time and again, is power. Those without it are vulnerable. With it, one is armed and prepared for anything.

Accordingly, making sure she's unobserved, she listens to the outgoing messages, more out of idle nosiness than expecting anything unusual.

"Ms. Barnes, did you note anything abnormal when you inspected this deuterium pump? Is it possible you missed inspecting it? I know that can happen or perhaps you had some issue when you reassembled the inspection plates?" Delaney calmly asks while analyzing the damaged pump for when it was last touch and if anything abnormal happened to it.

Pourtash will accept the dinner invitation, then contact Lt. Bancroft about the cosmic microwave background radiation study he'd agreed to help with. If there's any data he needs assistance with yet, Pourtash thought he might start on it during his free time today. Assuming he manages much free time, between his soccer game and the dinner meeting. He thinks regretfully to himself that if worse comes to worst he'll just have to join the game on another day.

Barnes stammers to Delaney, "Uh, no, sir. It seemed to be in good shape when I inspected it. No problems, and no indication that there would be any, either."

Kylah sees that the outgoing Astrophysics report is very lengthy and technical; she understands in basic terms what it's about, but it holds little of interest. The transfer request is by the First Officer, and is very brief; it does not state any particular reason for the request. The summary of senior officers' log entries for the previous day already has a low-level encryption for secure onboard data management. Does Kylah wish to decode and read it? She is technically capable of it, but also knows that it would be a violation of Starfleet regs to do so.

Bancroft is more than happy to send Pourtash a massive raw data file of cosmic microwave background radiation readings from the previous three months. He appends a note reading, There's no big hurry with this, but the sooner you get started, the better. Let me know if you have any questions. Thanks! B.

T'Var sighs, then looks directly at Collins. Better to come right to the point, she thinks.

"You are pregnant," the doctor tells Collins. "Approximately one week along."

Collins stares blankly at T'Var and Villa. She says nothing for several moments. Her mind is racing. I'll have to tell Ben, but how? I can keep it a secret from everyone else while he and I decide what we want; everyone except the Captain. It'll be in the doctors' logs, I'm sure. It'll derail my career path, that's for damned sure; I should have had my booster shot before boarding when I had the chance. Who knew I was going to meet Ben? I wonder if any of the Petty Officers want to be a surrogate mother? Eventually, Jeremi slowly begins to nod her head. "I understand" she says. "I will talk to the father and then update you both."

Pourtash will settle in to start work number crunching while he can. It's perhaps not so exciting as taking the helm of a starship--few things are--but he does enjoy working with data. There's something both soothing and satisfying in it, as he loses himself in making sense of the readings. Some might engage in meditation to calm their minds and spirits; he finds that same peace in discovering minor correlations and ensuring things add up correctly. Of course, modern computers do a great majority of the work that would have been anguished over in past centuries, but being involved in the process at all is enough for him.

"The medical staff is here for you," T'Var tells Collins. "I would suggest speaking with Dr. Noel as you consider your options."

"Yes, sir," Collins says, "Permission to return to duty?"

"Permission granted," T'Var says.

Collins knows she still has 10 minutes until she is expected back at her station. She finds an alcove in a quiet corridor and sits on the floor, her knees up close to her chest. she hugs her knees and puts her head down on them. She tries to lose herself in the distant hum of the engines for a short while, and hopes no one has an overwhelming desire to use that corridor just now.

Her mind runs through her relationship with Ben. Are they ready for this? Not likely. She'd like to think he'll be excited for her - hey! maybe *he* can carry the baby.

At the sound of footsteps, she springs up and continues on to her station as though nothing has changed.

Does Delaney find the damage to be something routine or abnormal? Is their any evidence of tampering and is their any indication that it was inspected recently.

Kylah, who barely knows the First Officer, doesn't have much interest in the transfer request, although as she mulls over the ethical quandary in decrypting the staff logs, she does find herself wondering what circumstances would lead a second-in-command to voluntarily leave a ship, especially when it's not due to a promotion. They'd have to pry me away with a crowbar, she thinks absently.

Even a lateral move to an equal position on a different ship means starting from scratch, in a way; it requires re-establishing the respect, the knowledge of how the shipboard interpersonal dynamics work, not to mention the unspoken political maneuvering amongst the staff. (Oh, the Federation can squawk all it wants about perfect equality; as far as Kylah's concerned, politics are everywhere, even in their idealistic Starfleet Academy.)

But all this is just distraction, white noise thrumming in her mind as she contemplates the risks and benefits of decrypting the staff logs.

It's my first day on duty, Kylah thinks pragmatically. She knows very little about the personalities on board yet, or even the background of what's been going on in the ship other than the basic briefing she received upon arrival. What meaning will these logs hold for her now? Is it worth breaking the rules just to satisfy her curiosity?

And not just her curiosity, she remembers with a sour twist in her stomach. Her Guardian did ask for as much information as she could garner from this useful post.

Well. That settles it.

With an internal defiant smirk aimed directly at Aldaan several light years from here, she enforces the standard level of encryption on the staff logs and sends them on their way out to the transom, unmolested.

...But not before making a very quick, very private backup copy of the logs.

Best keep them on hand, just in case. she thinks innocently as she continues the rest of her duties. Can't hurt, can it?

Before Collins leaves, Dr. Villa adds, "Your pregnancy is a private matter unless and until it interferes with the performance of your duties, Lieutenant, or you choose to reveal it yourself. Dr. T'Var and I will otherwise tell no one, not the Captain, not even any admiral, unless directly ordered to for a reason that I believe is clearly in the best interests of Starfleet. Just so you know, I've never had to do so, and I've dealt with probably a dozen or so crew pregnancies over the years. Even then, you would have the right to be present at that meeting, and to make a statement." She gives Collins a kindly smile. "What you do next is your decision. You should also be aware that, by law, pregnancy is no bar to continuing Starfleet service, although parenthood may limit your career options unless you make other arrangements for childcare. You have abortion and adoption rights as well, of course. Now, do you have any questions you'd like to ask me?"

After Collins has departed, the CMO says, "Thank you, T'Var. She seemed to take the news relatively well. Do you think she'll talk to Helen, Dr. Noel, that is?"

Pourtash has his hands full with the raw data. It could take him days, perhaps a week, to get through it all, even with computer help.

Based on past experience, Delaney thinks the damage to the pump is somewhat abnormal. There is no indication of either tampering or recent inspection, but the latter would not be noticeable anyway, if it was just a visual inspection or scan by a tricorder or other instrument.

Ens. Kylah encrypts and sends out the three messages to the nearest Starfleet subspace relay without a problem. Where and how would she like to keep backup copies of the logs?

"I do not know Mr. Collins well enough to answer your question, Doctor," T'Var tells Villa. "We have made it quite clear to her that our department will assist her -- whatever she decides."

Delaney leads the pair in repairs, taking time to see if the cause can be determined and walking both techs through the steps being taken.

Collins checks the ship's clock every few minutes, but the time doesn't register. Should I reschedule the dinner and have it just be Ben and me?, she asks herself, internally. Maybe I should stop back at Sickbay before dinner and talk to Dr Villa a bit. She shudders slightly, shakes it off, and tries to focus on her current tasks.

T'Var tries to focus on her duties in Sickbay, but her thoughts keep returning to Collins. Will she still host the planned dinner? The doctor wonders just how she can help Collins in the best possible way without seeming intrusive.

T'Var sighs. Perhaps it is best to do and say nothing for now, let Collins have some time to think things through and converse with the father.

Once again, T'Var attmepts to concentrate on the tasks at hand.

Collins messages Ben: Meet me in the mess at 1800 - we need to talk before the crowd gathers [signed] Jeremi

Delaney thinks that the pump had some kind of unusual malfunction and seized up. He and the techs work together well, but it takes awhile.

T'Var has a busy day in Sickbay, but remembers that she should check on her cell lines for eventual delivery to the Sakathians, too.

Cooper replies to Collins, OK, will do. Everything all right? XOXOX, Ben.

T'Var continues with her regular duties in Sickbay. She also keeps a close Vulcan eye on the cell lines under her care.

The doctor looks forward to dinner as she also wishes to keep a "close Vulcan eye" on Collins.

Pourtash continues working on the data, but decides that when the time comes for his soccer game he will take a break. Spending all of his free time on such a huge project will only burn him out faster, he reasons. A bit of physical activity and socializing will help recharge him, and then he can get a little more work in after dinner and before bed.