Star Trek RPG - Mission #7: "The War-Brotherhood of Irkhuit"

"Understood, Yorktown," Danaher replies cheerily. "Ain't She out."

Thalen then opens another channel, and Lt. Onn passes along the message to the other three ships. Ens. Horst Leventhal, at the Helm, asks, "Do you wish to leave the line-ahead formation now, ma'am?"

Rangin does not answer the Sidonian officer's call from his quarters or his Science duty station. She (or Thalen) could try his communicator, or page him shipwide.

Graham leads the little girl to the nearest place to eat - Mess Hall 3, as it happens. It is about half-full, with a mix of NR evacuees and Starfleet personnel. Graham gets some odd looks with Tina by his side, but none of the evacuees appear to recognize her. Ens. Mary Three Crows and Crewman Felice Dobson are the only two redshirts there, talking over coffee and danish; they break off their conversation and smile at the Assistant Chief of Security and the sticky-handed little girl.

Once they get acknowledgements from the other ships, Nia nods toward Leventhal. "Yes indeed, we've got a rendezvous with a Beaut--well, an Ain't She, I guess, if that's what her captain prefers." Awkward but it's not her language. Maybe she'll have a chance to ask Danaher about that.

Meanwhile, she swivels slightly toward Thalen. "See if you can get Rangin through his communicator, please? He must be off-duty. Hmm." She purses her lips in thought. If he's had a long day, he might not be into what is likely not a spectacularly interesting project. Still... something feels right to her about giving Rangin the opportunity. She can always pick someone else if he's not interested.

And of course there's also the security officer. Nia doesn't have to ponder too long on her choice. Especially paired with Rangin. Is she really so petty that she'd needle Booker like this?

Yes.

Well, okay, sure she is. But will she be this petty?

Guess.

She turns back to Thalen. "Just want to give you a heads up." Nia smiles sweetly. "After Rangin, I'll want to speak with Lt. Graham." Returning her gaze to the main viewscreen, she prepares to enjoy the sight of the Yorktown leaving its fleet members and swinging around to the Ain't She.

Thalen says, "Aye, ma'am."

Rangin's communicator beeps; does he have it with him?

The other ships confirm the Yorktown's signal. Leventhal and Pourtash bring the Starfleet heavy cruiser out of formation but continue towards the Ain't She. "Rendezvous in three minutes, ma'am," Pourtash says.

Graham returns a friendly not to his Security colleagues. Graham "This is Tina. We're on our way to find her mommy."

Then he crouches down to be closer to Tina's level. He points at the two Security officers. "Tina, this is Ens. Three Crows, and Crewman Dobson. See their uniforms, just like mine? That means, just like me, their job is to keep everyone safe. Including finding mommies, if necessary...remember they are always willing to help while you're on the ship."

Rangin nods in agreement at the thought of the games Kylah is suggesting. It would be good to play with more people and have some fun in general. He hopes that if they do wind up playing cards, it will end at least peacefully as it has done once before. Besides Kylah is a better player than he is, and the thought of a few people in the Science area meeting their match would be amusing to watch. Then again, Rangin is unsure just how good someone like Thalen would be. Then his communicator goes and he sighs as it breaks the atmosphere between them.

“Well, I’m not expecting anyone, and I’m supposed to be off-duty. I had better answer it shortly.” He picks the device up and looks for the caller id, to see that it has come from Lt Thalen. He looks at it slightly puzzled, wondering why the Andorian would be contacting him.

“Yes, I would love to play.” There is a side-glance back towards the bed and then back to Kylah. “A game in the rec-room would be good. Do you mind if I answer this, it has come from Lt. Thalen? Any ideas what it might be?”

Kylah does not miss Velir's glance at her bed, which is precisely the reaction she had to the memory of their last card game. But he seems pleased enough by the idea.

When he asks her permission to answer the hail, of course she agrees, but is as surprised as he is. "Lt. Thalen? No, I cannot guess. Please, go ahead." She watches, curious, as he lifts the communicator and responds.

"Thanks, Faraz," Nia says warmly to her colleague. She admires the field of stars ahead for only a few seconds before turning to Gunnarsdottir. "It just struck me--I should know this, but how many evacuees have we off-loaded to the other ships? Aside from, what was it, 200 or so on the Sarafina, what about the Rodgers and Viraat?"

"OK," says Tina softly to Graham. Three Crows and Dodson smile at her, charmed, and when Dodson pats the seat next to her, the little girl clambers up. "Pancakes now?" she asks Graham hopefully, looking up. "With syrple?"

Gunnarsdottir checks her records. "The Sarafina took 200 evacuees directly from the surface, ma'am, not from us. The Rodgers is smaller, a scoutship, and took 15 from us. The Viraat is the same size as the Yorktown, of course, and took 520."

Thalen tells Rangin, "Mr. Onn, who has the Bridge, would like to speak with you. Please stand by."

Graham can't help but smile at his colleagues and Tina. "EXTRA SYRPLE, I think." He nods. "Stay right here, I'll go get 'em."

Graham is able to get the little girl her pancakes and syrple, er, syrup, and she tucks in hungrily. Three Crows quietly asks Graham, out of Tina's hearing, "Any luck finding a parent or caregiver, sir?"

The Ain't She a Butte draws much closer and then matches course with the Yorktown. "Recommend we drop out of warp, stop and begin transport, ma'am," Pourtash says to Onn.

"How would you like to select the 40 who will beam over, Lieutenant?" Gunnarsdottir asks.

Thalen awaits a response from Rangin.

Rangin listens in surprise to the message coming through, “Standing by for Lt Onn, Sir” he replies respectfully.

He looks across at Kylah, and shrugs, trying to show his surprise he is being called like this. “Wonder what Lt. Onn wants with me?”, he whispers quietly to Kylah, “anything from comms that might give an idea?”

Kylah returns Velir's shrug. Mystified herself, she tilts her head and listens with interest.

Graham sighs softly. "Keep an eye on her now that she's settled down," he says quietly. He steps away and flips open his communicator. *"Lt. Graham to Security duty office on the Bridge. I could use some help searching our roster of colonists for a lost child."

*That he's carrying...see how I did that :)?

From the Bridge, Security Ens. St. Croix says, "Of course, sir. There has been no evacuee report of a lost child. Do you have a name, fingerprint, retina print or DNA profile?"

Nia hides a grin at Pourtash's question. He's thinking like a helmsman--understandably--instead of a navigator.* She glances from Pourtash to Leventhal and nods, addressing them both. "Yes, let's reciprocate and keep in sync with the Ain't She."

Next she turns to Gunnarsdottir, who asked about which 40 Nia will choose: "Commander's privilege, Lieutenant--I'm delegating. Our quartermaster will handle it, along with Ensign Rangin if he's available." While waiting to have Thalen connect her with Rangin,** Nia catches a hint of St. Croix's comment and tilts her head in curiosity. Lost child? She shrugs with a twitch of her shoulder, as it's not her purview, but she makes a mental note to ask once she's done.







* - It's Helm who makes the ship stop and go, no? I admit I'm uncertain about that.

** - Wasn't sure if she should wait for Thalen to announce Rangin or not, so erring on the side of "yes."

Graham can't help but chuckle, glancing back at the syrple--er, syrup--covered hands of his young charge. "The child's first name is 'Tina.' She's looking for 'Mommy' but I'm pretty confident that latter bit won't be especially helpeful."

Gunnarsdottir says to Onn, "Very well. I will let the Quartermaster know, ma'am."

Thalen says to her, "I have Mr. Rangin on the line, ma'am. Go ahead."

Pourtash at Nav having already changed course, it is Leventhal at the Helm who brings the heavy cruiser out of warp and then to a halt. The Ain't She comes to within 200 km of the Starfleet ship and also stops. "Standing by, Yorktown," she says over hailing frequencies. "Ready when you are."

St. Croix checks the NR evacuee list for girls named Tina, and finds none. She asks Graham, "Do you have a tricorder to scan her, sir, or should I have someone bring you one?"

After acknowledging what feels like everyone on the Bridge--and even on the Ain't She a Beaut--Nia finally gets to Rangin. She sits back in the chair.

"Afternoon, Rangin. I'll get straight to it: We've got another ship that'll take up to forty passengers for us." Her tone turns more intimate--not romantic, but rather the intimacy of a shared experience. "I remember what you tried to accomplish--what you did accomplish leading up to the evac. And after the lottery... well, I thought you'd like the chance to help the quartermaster pick a group that'll make everyone's experiences more comfortable. A win-win situation at last," she adds meaningfully.

Then she chuckles. "Probably should've mentioned that I've got the Conn here, in case you're wondering why I'm the one contacting you. Anyway, you'd also transport over to the ship temporarily to oversee the transfer on the other side, just to make sure they've got everything this group needs, life-supportwise.

"We're all ready to begin transporting as soon as the list is decided. Unless Cmdr. Roble's got you working on something urgent, this would take precedence. Can you meet up with Lt. Onyibe ASAP, Ensign?"

Rangin listens to Lt Onn’s commands, nodding to himself as he starts thinking about what he will need to do. He’s not that surprised she is calling from the bridge as he had just met Captain Singh in her quarters, so someone had to be in charge and seeing as it was Lt Thalen calling him, well, the pieces fitted together. But he isn’t going to spoil her fun. It never does to make an issue with someone in a position of power, especially with her connection to Lt Graham. Then again he is slightly conflicted as he isn’t expecting her acknowledgement of what he did for the lottery. That will have to remain a mystery for the moment.

“Understood, Ma’am. I’ll meet with Lt. Onyibe now. Lt. JG Rangin out.”

He closes the communicator and looks across to Kylah. “Well this could be interesting. We have a new ship ready to take forty of the colonists and I have been ordered to go check it out and help with the list. You don’t know any colonists who might prefer a different ship?”

He sighs, realising that his time here with Kylah is over, though it does mean he can leave without feeling too guilty. “I’m sorry, duty calls, but we really should set up a poker night in the Mess Hall if we can find enough interested parties.”

Kylah, still beaming with pride at hearing Velir signing off with his new rank, stands with him. "Of course, you must go. They clearly have confidence in you--an assignment like that must reflect the increased responsibilities that are now your due."

Belatedly she processes his question. "Colonists who prefer a different ship," she repeats, almost to herself, before looking back up at him. "Yes! Yes, the two guests I helped--that is, the people for whom I am responsible--they are very unhappy. At least, one of them is. If there is any way to..."

Her enthusiasm wanes as she thinks the idea through. "But no. It would be too great a risk, selecting them, as they are not on the list of passengers and bringing their presence to light could surely cause trouble." She hesitates again. "And I do not wish to ask such a favor of you. Knowing how you feel, I could not do that. Of course it would also make you complicit. You have done enough for me."

Nia's left eyebrow arches when the connection cuts out. Oh no need to thank me, you mustn't gush, she thinks dryly, wondering if she'll ever be able to knock the chip off Ensign Rangin's shoulder.

Wait. Not Ensign after all. She swivels to face the officers behind her. "Did he say Lieutenant JG? Lt. Thalen, have I missed an announcement about promotions?" The thought pleases her, despite Rangin's apparent belief that her feelings mirror Booker's just because they're seeing each other--

Were seeing each other.

She relaxes in her chair, not quite as chipper as just a moment ago. Even with a new rank to boost his ego, Rangin's still not responding to her sympathetic and friendly overtures. Still connecting her with his nemesis, apparently. He must not know about Booker's new status as groom-to-be, with a fiancee who's definitely not Nia. Or maybe his distrust of her has nothing to do with Booker. She doesn't remember doing anything to earn the guy's resentment, but that doesn't mean much. He's a Coridanite, he likely defaults to defensiveness, and with good reason.

Anyway. Thinking of Rangin going onboard the Ain't She--and of Book--reminds her that a Security officer should accompany him to wrangle the passengers and just generally keep the peace. Her first thought is, of course, Booker Graham himself, because damn it he's almost always her first thought these days. Get. Over. It.

Her eyes widen with a sudden flash of inspiration. Just imagine how he'd react, having to accompany newly promoted and now-on-equal-footing Lt. JG Rangin! She revels in the delicious idea for a couple of seconds before deciding that such a move would cement Rangin's mistrust of her. It'd be as much a punishment to him as it would to Book. Anyway, she's above punishing a man she's--allegedly--mutually broken up with.

But someone needs to go. If not Booker... An officer springs quickly to mind, someone who seems like a good match for Rangin. Also offers a little bit of harmless satisfaction where Booker's concerned, too. Of course it'd only be satisfying if he knows about it. How to accomplish that?

Is it such a horrible thing to be so petty? Fuck it, Nia's not a saint.

She smiles, wipes it away with a brush of her hand, and swivels to Thalen. "Sorry to keep you hopping, Thalen. Please get me Lt. Graham."

"No apologies needed, ma'am," Thalen says with a smile. "If I can't multitask, I have no business being Communications Officer. I heard some scuttlebutt that Mr. Rangin was being promoted, but there's nothing official yet, as far as I know. I'll get Mr. Graham for you." He taps a switch.

Graham still has an open channel to St. Croix, but his communicator beeps to indicate a new call coming in.

"No tricorder--we're in mess hall three. Thanks--I've got a new call coming in."

Graham switches over to the new call. "Graham here."

Thalen says, "Hello, Mr. Graham. Please stand by for Mr. Onn, who is the BCDO."

Rangin listens to Kylah realising that he perhaps was not as clear as he should be. He nods understandingly at her, still ongoing, predicament that he is still doing his best to avoid, before taking a different tack.

“I was thinking more about that you are on Comms duty a lot and so may have heard of people who are not doing well onboard and might find a change of scenery beneficial.” He smiles as a thought comes unbidden to mind, “as an example, the two you mentioned are obviously unhappy, more so than others. There must be a reason why?”

With a sigh, Kylah shakes her head. "More unhappy than others, who lost friends and possibly family members? No. Their complaints are minor. One of them objects to sharing at all, even with her own companion, much less the two other poor refugees assigned to Lt Onn's room. But in truth, Mrs. So--this guest would not be happy even if she were to stay in the Captain's quarters.

"She is thankful," Kylah adds hastily, worried Velir will be disgusted by such ingratitude. "They both are. As am I. And my--my family. It is just... I did not consider that the quartermaster would not realize the space was already occupied, and so she placed the strangers there. Lt. Onn's cabin is quite large, even with four. Still, it is not what this woman is used to. But when there is no other choice, one must adapt to living in lesser circumstances. I had to."

Kylah sweeps a hand to indicate the rest of her quarters, then flushes and jerks it back. She has taken great pains not to emphasize her background and high status in front of Velir, and now she seems to be disparaging life onboard the ship. "I mean... when I was first at the Academy," she finishes in embarrassment, looking away and tries to hide the gesture by tucking some stray curls behind her ear.

Sending yet another appreciative glance toward Thalen, Nia takes a steady breath. "Mr. Graham. Forgive me if I'm interrupting f--anything." She nearly said "interrupting family time" but fortunately better instincts prevailed.

Efficiently Nia explains the situation with the new ship, ending with:

"...And I'm assigning a two-person team to beam over and keep things in order. Needless to say, one should be a security officer, and naturally I thought of you." Nia allows a slight pause. "...Since you're ACoS and know who's on duty and can be spared. My first pick is Double-T.--Ensign Rawlings. Let's face it, if you can have only one Security officer, he's more than enough. And I'm sure you share my regard for him. Though probably not for the same reasons," she adds under her breath, smiling, then continues in a brisk but friendly tone. "Is there any conflict, Lieutenant?"

“I see,” agrees Rangin pleasantly, while filing away the bits of information for later use. With confirmation of exactly where Kylah hid her stowaways, if they are in Lt. Onn’s cabin it is probably a given that it’s owner has an inkling of who is there. What surprises Rangin is that Lt Onn has not reported it. Strange indeed and perhaps worthy of more consideration.

He can’t help but smile at the comment about having to handle lesser quarters. “Kylah, if I recall, you grew up in a palace as nobility. Anything will be a downgrade after that. At least, these quarters beat some of the mining hostels I’ve been in.” Ok, it is perhaps a minor dig at Kylah, but there are some occasions when he can’t help himself. The slight red flush on Kylah’s cheeks just goes to make him feel guilty having said it “It’s not a issue, just circumstance. Everyone has a different start in life."

Rangin stands up from the chair. “Anyway, I need to head off and find out what Lt Onn has in store for me.” He tidies up the food cartons to a neat pile. “I’ll drop these off in the Mess Hall and let you get some sleep before your next shift.”

"Oh yes, of course," Kylah says, both to Velir's justified remark about his own less-privileged past and to his heading off to handle the refugee transfer. But hunger trumps embarrassment when he starts to remove the snacks he provided, although there are two or three morsels left uneaten.

She reaches out, practically grabbing the tray from beneath Velir's grip. "Let me take care of these," she blurts while her gaze is pinned to a roasted floret of cauliflower like a hunter picking out his prey. "I mean... your assignment sounds more important. It is the least I can do after your thoughtfulness."

Tearing her attention from the food back up to Velir, Kylah smiles gratefully. In truth, her returning appetite--after so many weeks of depriving herself--is due as much to their renewed friendship as to her success at fulfilling Aldaan's demands. "Thank you again. And good luck... Lieutenant Rangin."

Graham pauses, trying to figure out if there's some kind of something going on here as a result of the...unexpected change...in his and Nia's relationship.

He would have been both surprised and hurt if it felt like Nia was trying to avoid the two of them serving on an away team...

Which thankfully, this isn't.

Graham half-consciously shakes his head. "No ma'am," he replies. "He's a solid officer."

Rangin lets Kylah keep the plates and realises why when her hands stray towards the remaining morsels. He can’t blame her either and he graciously lets her gather them up.

“Thanks. This assignment sounds mildly interesting, although I’m sure it has the highest priority in relieving any problems with Life Support. Then again, a lot of that is already mitigated by the other ships around and this can only help. Time to find out, I guess.”

He starts to head for the door before turning back to Kylah just before he leaves. “Sleep well and sweet dreams. I hope you manage to get some rest before your next shift,” he says quietly to her before opening the doors and heading out to find Lt. Onyibe.

Kylah's smile remains in place for the length of time it takes her to finish the remainder of the cooler but still delicious food. Even then, her pleased expression is broken only due to a massive yawn. Rubbing her eyes, she sets the plates on her desk to be dealt with tomorrow before her next watch. She will have to wake up all the earlier to take them back to the Mess, but that will also give her the chance to grab a bite for breakfast.

Greedy, she chides herself with an amused shake of her head. Stuffed yourself with treats just now and already thinking of your next meal!

When another yawn practically engulfs her, she is tempted to just collapse, fully dressed, into her wonderful, comfortable bed. Discipline prevails, and instead she makes fast work of disrobing and slipping on her nightgown, then taking care of necessities in the bathroom. At last she slips under the covers and sinks onto her pillow.

Kylah is nearly asleep when she groans, reluctantly turns to her night table, and sets her alarm for a full hour earlier than necessary. This will give her plenty of time to shower, dress, return the plates and grab some hot chocolate and at least a muffin before her first watch. She cannot keep missing meals. Her concentration and memory have suffered along with her appearance. It will not do.

At last, with the treasured sound of Velir's "Sweet dreams" command drifting through her mind, she closes her eyes and gratefully, instantly obeys.

"Good to hear, Mr. Graham," Nia says crisply. "Double-T's served under me quite a few times and never let me down yet. Well, please contact him and have him head to Transporter Room 1. He'll be beaming over with--"

She hesitates, a mischievous gleam in her eye. How she'd love to inform Booker of the ship's newest recipient of a well-deserved promotion. Truth is, he probably no longer cares who's served under, over or sideways to Nia--or how she's served them, for that matter--but she bets his feelings toward Velir Rangin are still pretty raw.

And so the words Lieutenant Rangin nearly cross her lips before she checks herself. No. It's not her place. Rangin should have the privilege of letting Booker know, however he chooses to. She shouldn't deny him of that pleasure.

"...He'll be beaming over with one of our science officers. If there's any hitch, please inform me sooner rather than later." She can't help adding, "I don't like being the last to know important information. Thanks. Onn out."

She cuts the connection and asks Thalen to tell Captain Danaher that they'll be ready shortly. Quiet at last, Nia relaxes again and folds her hands over her lap, looking at what she can see of the Ain't She.

There was no real pleasure in any of that. If there had been, if there was even the slightest chance Booker Graham truly regrets her, maybe that would've given her some satisfaction. But even then, it'd be hollow victory at best.

With a nearly inaudible cough to clear her throat, she shakes herself free of the mood as best she can. "Anything else that needs choreographing?" she asks, speaking to the crew as a whole. "I think that's everything but let me know otherwise."

Rangin finds Lt. Juliet Onyibe, the Ship's Quartermaster, an older, ramrod-straight Nigerian woman, in her office. She is talking to a pompous colonist with a heavy Russian accent who is demanding a larger cabin. She looks up gratefully at Rangin and gets rid of the civilian, saying, "I'll look into it, sir, but as you know, the ship is very crowded and I'm afraid I can't make any promises. Now please excuse me; I have an important meeting with Ensign... Mathers here." When the colonist, clearly miffed, has left, she sighs heavily, leans back in her chair and says, "Sorry about that, Ensign. Thanks for rescuing me. What's your real name, and what can I do for you?"

Thalen acknowledges Onn's order and passes the word to Capt. Danaher. He had already centered a magnified image of the Ain't She on the Bridge's main viewscreen: a businesslike but not unattractive civilian ship, light gray trimmed in green here and there, her name illuminated on her forward primary hull. Onn sees that the last word of her name is Butte, not Beaut.

Several of the Bridge crew shake their heads in response to Onn's question. Pourtash says, "No, thank you, ma'am."

Nia peers at the ship's signage and scowls slightly. "That word... is pronounced the same as 'beaut'? Amazing. After all these years, Federation standard still catches me up. In my native language, things are spelled like they're pronounced, and different words that mean different things and are spelled different, are pronounced, well, differently." She sighs in exaggerated irritation, then grins. "All right, I'll cop to ignorance: what does that mean?"

Then she swivels slightly to face St. Croix. "Did I overhear something about a missing child? It's being handled, I'm sure, but I'd like to know how it turns out. The family must be terrified."

Pourtash says, "Yes, 'Butte' is pronounced that way, ma'am. It's a city on Earth. In Canada, maybe...?"

"No, the United States... of America, that is," Leventhal says. "In, uh, Wyoming, I think. Or is it Idaho?"

"Montana, definitely," Ens. Delaney puts in from the Engineering console. "I've been there." He smiles. "You know, between the three of us, we just might win the next Geography Bee."

St. Croix tells Onn, "Mr. Graham has apparently found a little lost girl named Tina, no last name provided or known." She summarizes the rest of her conversation with Graham on the case. "Still no report shipwide from any evacuee as to a lost child, of that or any other name."

The easy conversation among the crew makes Nia's grin a little wider. The looser atmosphere is exactly what she'd hoped for earlier.

"Interesting. They're registered to Camus V, right? I wonder what the connection to this Butte is. Maybe that's where Capt. Danaher is from? Or the ship's owners, anyway, if it's not hers. Could just be a place name on Camus for all we know. If we can find a planet full of Earth-style mobsters and another one based on Russian culture, there's no reason to think there wouldn't be Terran influence elsewhere. Pretty impressive cultural spread, really."

Which goes without saying. Nia considers the Yorktown crew itself a good example: the vast majority are humans from Earth or its colonized worlds. On the Bridge, Nia and Thalen are the only non-humans here. This is the type of growth her own planet is vainly trying to accomplish.

"Anyway, thanks for helping me with the geography, all. Maybe that Geography quiz could be a new tradition, like the Lyceum's productions." Nia chuckles. "I'd have to take a hard pass on it, though. Earth has so many land subdivisions, it's sometimes tough to keep track. Sidonia only has eight large land masses, and since our drought steamed away most water sources, only four are still habitable. Of course we have a minuscule fraction of Earth's population. I guess the more people you have, the greater likelihood that they'll want sovereign territory of their own."

She nods to St. Croix, now feeling even worse for interrupting Booker. "That's even worse for the parents, in a way... not even being aware that your child's in trouble, not knowing the girl's wandering around, frightened..." Shit. Step away from that ledge, woman. "Well, I know Lt. Graham can handle it. If he contacts us again wanting to make a shipwide announcement, we can definitely oblige," she adds with a glance at Thalen.

Her brow furrows. "Makes me wonder. Did we set up some kind of childcare facility or room to give the kids some safe place to play during the trip? It's only been a few days but I know the adults are getting antsy about being restricted, and I'd imagine it's way worse for the children. Wouldn't you say, Dr. Noel?"

Rangin stands slightly to attention while allowing the Lt to relax slightly. “Rangin, Ma’am, Lieutenant JG” he replies then following up to cover the slight difference in rank and the uniform that is as obvious as he stands there, “as of about an half an hour ago and you’re welcome for the rescue, Ma’am”

“Lt. Onn sent me to assist with the transfer of some colonists to a new ship. To look over it and help decide the best set of colonists to move.” He looks back towards the door where the colonists had just left before shifting his gaze front and centre, but the implication of the glance he hopes is obvious to Lt Onyibe.

“I am familiar with the current list of colonists on the Yorktown, so I hope I can be of use?” Rangin leaves the question to hang in the air, curious to hear what exactly he has been ordered to do.

"I've never been to Sidonia," Delaney says, then chuckles. "Earth's multitude of place names, coupled with puns in Federation Standard, is a pretty daunting combination for anyone not actually from there, ma'am."

Thalen says to Onn, "Yes, ma'am. I'll make a shipwide announcement whenever you wish."

"I think, sir," St. Croix says to him, "that Mr. Graham must have a different approach in mind."

Dr. Helen Noel shakes her head in response to Onn's question. "I don't think there was any room anywhere aboard for a childcare facility when we left Novy Rostov, Lieutenant, and no one has asked for one since then, as far as I know. It's a good idea, though. I'll have a word with the Captain and Dr. Villa about it."

"Oh, good," Lt. Onyibe says to Rangin, smiling. "Thank you, Mr. Rangin. Every bit helps; it still seems like we're bursting at the seams." She turns to her data pad and begins inputting commands. "I'll send an updated list to your comm account of evacuees who are aboard, after the transfers to the other ships. You can work from that. How many are we sending this time? Hmm. Offloading Mr. Yakovlev, the... gentleman who just left, might be a good first step. He has a family of four."

Graham frowns slightly as he stows his communicator, wondering if there was or wasn't anything awkward about his interaction with Nia.

Was there something I should have picked up on but missed?

Was there not , and now I'm worrying about nothing?

Their "break up" had been awkward...

Because it wasn't a break up. Neither one of us wanted to...break up.

But although there are many cultures that see no big deal in the equivalent of multiple spouses...

Yeah, I don't see how that could work.

He sighs and rubs his chin, then adopts a more cheerful demeanor to return to check on his young charge.

Delaney's remark widens Nia's warm smile. No, of course he hasn't visited Sidonia. She wouldn't expect it of him or any of her colleagues. The number of Starfleet officers or indeed any Federation personnel who've been near toxic, doomed Sidonia--much less on it--is minuscule and probably wouldn't require all twenty human fingers and toes to count.

But she appreciates his tact about the difficulty of Fed Standard. She wonders, not for the first time, how long it generally takes non-humans (or non-Vulcans, or basically anyone who didn't grow up using Fed Standard) to get truly fluent in it. Nia's been told she's surprisingly adept at the language, but it takes more effort than people realize.

Her attention moves to Thalen and St. Croix. The latter's words--'Mr. Graham must have a different approach in mind"--trigger a little stab of resentment, which she tries to hide as well as she does her native accent. "He probably does, St. Croix. Lt. Graham's excellent at making decisions and following through on them, no matter what. But as I'm sure he knows, we're here if he needs us." She smiles gratefully at Thalen for all his help this afternoon.

To Dr. Noel, she nods. "That'd be great. It's just two more days, of course, but for kids that can seem like forever. Time sure moves a lot faster for parents, doesn't it."

Her gaze takes in the Ain't She a Butte, or at least it falls in that general direction ahead of her. Time, and the passage of it, is a painful subject. Twenty-two, she recalls as the familiar ache of emptiness ripples through her. She's always been able to recite the children's ages with precision. Twenty-one. Nineteen. Seventeen. Sixteen. Fourteen. Most aren't even children anymore. And not a one remembers her.

Disgusted by the level of her moroseness, Nia tries to lighten her mood by asking Delaney for some pun examples she might not have caught, and Leventhal for any new tweaks made to the ongoing experiment that is her beloved Tesla, and Noel whether there've been any major conflicts among the refugees or between them and Yorktown crew, and... well, basically anything to anyone on the Bridge that will keep her mind away from the gnawing sense of abandonment that's stalking her like a ravenous wolf.

"Thank you Ma'am. I think I have an updated version of the colonists, but I am happy to check and make sure." Rangin looks back at the door and swaps a smile with the officer, "Mr Yakovlev you say, I'll make a note and see if he is right for a change of scenery."

He pulls his comms pad out to make some notes, "I'm not precisely sure how many we will be sending across, I believe that's what I am heading across to find out." He starts by noting down the Yakovlov as he is likely to forget over the next hour or so, but also makes a mental note to check the list for those residing in Lt Onn's quarters. "This will also include where on the Yorktown they are currently located are?"

It feels a little risky asking for it, but the justification should be more than adequate and it's not like he isn't going to be taking it into account. "I'll see if I can also free some areas up at the same time, or at least let you know where the new gaps will be, which might improve some people's demeanours."

Tina, who has clearly charmed Three Crows and Dodson, downs her pancakes at warp speed. She holds up her plate and asks Graham hopefully, "More, please?"

Delaney thinks for a moment, and tells Onn, "What did the grape say when it got crushed?" He pauses. "Nothing, it just let out a little wine." He smiles apologetically. "I didn't say it was a good pun, ma'am."

Leventhal says, "I was pulled off the Tesla project a few weeks back, sorry, ma'am. I don't know where things stand now. The Chief Engineer could tell you, or Lt. Meyer for sure."

Dr. Noel says, "There have been some minor problems among the evacuees, but nothing too bad. I'm not aware of any conflicts of note between them and our crew."

"Thank you, Mr. Rangin," the Quartermaster says. "That all sounds good to me. I believe we'll be sending 40 over to this new ship. And yes, the roster includes everyone's current quarters - which, you'll see, is sometimes just a corridor or hull-frame notation for those not in actual compartments."

Nia grins at Delaney. "I may have to put you on report for assaulting an officer for that one." She thanks the others too. After the week she's had, she's very much looking forward to returning to engineering mode whenever she next gets a chance to work on the Tesla. The busier and more crowded her days get, the better.

Delaney mock-bows a little. "I have more, if you want to hear them, ma'am. But I won't fault you if not."

"I have one," Pourtash says with a grin. "What does a pirate wear when he's golfing? Arrrrrrgyle."

Graham glances at his fellow officers and cocks an eyebrow at the voracious girl. "Well, a couple more, while we wait for someone to bring some equipment that will us find your mommy."

Tina grins and hands her plate to Graham. Dodson matches her grin, and Three Crows actually tousles her hair.

Rangin looks at the data as it scrolls across the screen of his datapad, nodding in agreement at the information he can see on the screen, which should help him at least decide on the right people to send across. Ages, families, occupations, current ship locations, enough to give him a start. If the new ship was rough, then it would be the miners being moved, a ship with better care facilities then families with young children. The options were many and varied and Rangin starts to mentally sort them into different categories, so that when he gets the most important bit of data he can make some snap recommendations.

“I had better get across there and see what the ship has to offer. The sooner it is done, the sooner, people can settle into somewhere a little more forgiving, Ma’am.”

Rangin hasn’t been told which transporter room or shuttle bay to report to, to head across to the ship, so he checks just to see if any info has been sent or if anyone else is going with him..

Pourtash's joke flies over Nia's head--probably some cultural reference she's not getting. When she hears pirates her mind pictures some nasty Orions, Nausicaans or even the practically legendary Triacus marauders. But his delivery of the punchline is, frankly, adorable, so she chuckles warmly.

"What about ship names, there are plenty more like this Butte thing, I’m sure." She pauses, then remembers an anecdote she told Booker some weeks ago. "Actually, there's something I once thought was a pun, but it turned out... Well, it's a funny story, though it makes me look bad. Those are usually the funniest, I suppose.

"Anyway, back at the Academy, my first year I think, the Nova Squad were being tested on a scout ship called the Bean. I remember joking to the other cadets that it must've been named that way because for such a tiny scout ship, it sure made a lot of noise."

Nia grins. "Well, it would've been a good pun! The others laughed," she adds with a mock defensive air, then continues ruefully. "My mistake was saying this in front of our training commander. He was, um, not amused. As a result I had to research and perform a two-hour presentation in order to, and I quote, 'learn the goddamn space history of the goddamn capital planet of the goddamn Federation.'"

With a flip of her hands, Nia finishes, "At least I now know almost as much about Earth's early space program as I do Sidonia's."

Her eyes catch hold of the Ain't She a Butte in front of her. Speaking of small ships... did she ask Booker to contact Double-T, as part of her useless attempt to needle him? Maybe not. "Oh. Just a sec. Thalen, can you alert Ensign Rawlings as to our plans for the Butte? Ask him to meet up with Ens--nope, Lt. Rangin at Transporter Room 1." She assumes that room will be available, since no one else is transporting on or off the ship.*

This tickles Nia's brain and reminds her that she didn't tell Rangin where to meet up. It's likely Rangin would head to TR1, but he's also a more cautious kinda guy, so maybe he wouldn't presume anything. Since Thalen's busy, she takes it upon herself to tap out a message to the xenobiologist.

RANGIN, LT.JG - When you're ready, please meet Ens. Rawlings at Transporter Room 1. While on the Ain't She a Butte you can get a feel for the space and accommodations that might help you pick the lucky forty. Let me know if you have any questions.

BTW: You disconnected so quickly I didn't have time to congratulate you. Long overdue. Sorry that your first job after having risen to this rank isn't all that glamorous, but as I said, I figured you'd like to help people get off the ship, instead of preventing them from getting on in the first place. -- ONN, LT. NIA

She hits SEND, then turns to Gunnarsdottir. "Can you contact TR1 and give advance warning to whoever's on duty that we'll be needing a beam-out for two?" Sounds like a restaurant order. "Chief Nguyen, or whoever, can begin startup procedures now."



* OOC: Is that a safe assumption or should she check? Trying to be efficient here. :)

Delaney says, "Pun names for ships aren't all that unusual, ma'am. In my experience, they're most popular for yachts and small craft. Off the top of my head I can think of, let me see, the Dedd Giveaway, the Nervous Reck, and the Kraken Me Up."

"And the Hoodini," Leventhal said, grinning. "That all-black yacht, out of Arcadia."

"Oh, yeah, the Hoodini," Delaney says. "Good one. Or bad one, I guess."

"Mr. Rawlings, report to Transporter Room 1 for boarding-party duty," Thalen, shaking his head a little, says into the comm. He briefs the giant Security officer on the assignment.

Gunnarsdottir also does as she's ordered and passes the word.

Rangin's communicator hums with an incoming text.