Star Trek RPG - Mission #3: "Some Other Side of Paradise"

Startled at having been yanked from the Trimalchio without any warning--not even a chance to talk to the yacht's captain, much less waiting for Graham to respond to her request--Kylah is even more surprised to see Collins, once the disorientation from the transport has faded. At first Kylah's natural impulse is to wonder how the other woman is feeling, to ask if she is fully recovered.

But then Collins is... well, Collins. An officer whose first reaction to seeing those she left behind on a dangerous mission, all of whom have only just escaped the clutches of a murderer, is simply, "catch me up."

Kylah's respect for Graham increases; he would never show so little concern for those under his command. Of course, she remains sympathetic to Collins's loss--Kylah is not a sociopath, which may be more than one can say for Jeremi Collins and her utter lack of compassion toward others--but the instinct to ask about Collins's health winks out of existence like an extinguished candle.

She says nothing, and her curious expression freezes back into a mask. Collins would not want to hear from her, anyway, probably preferring a report from her fellow Security team member. Or possibly Velir, considering how he at least tried to advise Collins. Not to mention his resourcefulness and valor. Oh, please, please let him get the commendation he deserves! Kylah thinks suddenly, the first pleasant thought she has had in ages. Perhaps even a promotion. He deserves one so much!

Sure enough, he responds cordially. Always the right response. Kylah wishes she had his ability to be diplomatic.

Mostly, Kylah just tries to keep from grinding her teeth in annoyance. She does not want to be back on the ship now. Not just because she is afraid of the medical staff and their intrusiveness, but because there is so little time before the Starfleet team arrives to take over the investigation. And for some reason she wants to ask Fastolfe's forgiveness. She is not certain why this closure is so important to her, but it is. Someone so poorly treated should get a sincere apology.

Collins nods in agreement with Rangin's statement. "Of course," she says, "I'll see you all later." She then turns to Cmdr. Vargas "With your permission, sir?" she indicates the door to the corridor. Jeremi would like to remove herself from the group so she can kick herself, privately, for being so cavalier.

“You want to what to who?” Graham starts to reply to Kylah, on the verge of chuckling, when she suggests apologizing to Fastolfe. It takes him a moment of staring at her, waiting for the acknowledgment she was, of course, kidding not to happen before he fully grasps she’s serious.

Maybe I should idly scratch at my genitalia and drool a little, for Rangin’s benefit, while I stand here slack-jawed, he thinks. After the awkward pause he continues.

“Uh, well, ah, my gut reaction is that Fastolfe deserves to be arrested for assault, but…we can’t rule out the fact that the whole knife incident with Wilson was Palver’s influence, so you might have a point," he's just starting to reply when they're beamed back to the Yorktown.


Thank god Vargas is such a type-a bastard, he thinks, relieved the senior officer didn't waste any time or ask their permission, now that from his point of view the mission was ready to be handed off: he'd also been trying to think how to let Rangin and Kylah down gently. Graham has no illusions that they might well be right, and something fishy could be going on at high levels of Starfleet.

But if there is, whoever's involved is smart enough that we aren't going to figure it out within the next day. He frowns, sincerely concerned about his two younger colleagues--thee benefit of being on a ship like Yorktown is you get to go a lot of places and see a lot of things...but you rarely stick around for the long haul on anything short of a major Klingon incursion...if that's not floating their boat they're in for a lot of let downs...

He brightens up as they materialize and Collins is standing--emphasis on standing, as opposed to lying in a pool of blood or being bed-ridden in Sickbay--looking healthy.

"Ah, good to see you up and around, L-T," he says, although whatever enthusiasm he musters fades as it seems like she's keen to high-tail it out of there.

Why the hell doesn't anybody want to high-five and have a beer? he wonders. He holds out hope for T'Var.

Then he blushes as he remembers the perfume...just in time to catch Vargas' gaze. He clears his throat. "It's good to be back onboard sir," he says. "And it always feels good to nab a bad guy. The whole team did good work sir." He gestures toward Kylah and Rangin. "And we certainly couldn't have gotten the job down with Mr. Kylah's and Mr. Rangin's..." he's not certain what the right word to us is, then it hits him. "Initiative."

Dr. Villa had said she wanted to have Rangin and Kylah checked out in Sickbay on the double; she had already held off for Mahmoud's report and further discussion on the yacht. I have added a little more text so that it is not quite so abrupt.

Cmdr. Vargas nods to Collins, and she leaves.

Dr. Villa calls for a pair of medtechs and an antigrav gurney. Palver is soon put on it, and the group walks through the halls to Sickbay. The First Officer talks to you along the way. He says, "I know it's been a very long day for you already. Again, well done, all of you. After the CMO gives you a looking-over, you may go off-duty, if you like. Have a meal and a shower, if you need it. Prepare your AMRs" - After-Mission Reports - "in time for the Pyongyang's arrival. Your personal effects will be beamed up from the research station. Any questions?"

Kylah moistens her lips in preparation. "Yes, sir. Once I am cleared and allowed to go off-duty, Commander, may I have your permission to beam back down to the planet for a very brief time? I assure you it will not impinge on the case in any way, nor will it cause a delay in preparing my AMR. I wish to conclude some business with one of the guests. It is related to how we--" She swiftly changes her mind, preferring not to discuss Graham's behavior in this context. "--To how I interacted with him. I owe him an apology and I do not wish to leave it unsaid. To do so would be a bad reflection on me as an officer." Kylah looks up at Vargas. "Please, sir?"

Vargas raises his eyebrows a little but says, "Of course, Ensign, if you think it necessary."

Dr. Villa says to Rangin, referring to Fujishiro, "I can't really discuss particular patients' cases for reasons of privacy, Mr. Graham, but Dr. Anderson of the OC3 research station and I have been discussing spore therapy for several days now."

Rangin shakes his head sadly as Collins leaves, one day she may even remember to put her team before herself. Not even a "Hi, glad to see you are all safe."

Rangin waits patiently while they walk to Sickbay. He's curious as to what happened between Kylah and Lord Fastolfe, but he only met him the one time when he was threatening Mr Wilson. He doesn't have any questions for Vargas. At this point he just wants to get checked out and then relax some. Then again, if Kylah wanted someone to accompany her to the planet surface while she spoke to Fastolfe, well it wasn't as if he had any better plans for the evening.

Farther down the corridor, Collins turns to watch as the others exit the Transporter Room and head to Sick Bay. A couple of tears run down her cheeks, and she wipes them away with anger. I'll meet them in the Mess Hall and apologize then, she thinks. They got the job done and they're safe. You think I could have said something less idiotic. She continues to chastise herself as she returns to her station.

"Shower and a meal" positively booms in Graham's ears and is lit up by neon lights in Graham's mind as Vargas says it. He's rarely felt uncomfortable in a Starfleet uniform, but something at that moment makes him eager to be casual clothes as well.

With Collins gone and having complimented the members of the team who were present in front of Vargas, there seems to be nothing in the way of all three: shower, change, and food. Vargas has barely finished when Graham mumblers "thank you, sir" and makes a beeline for his quarters.

The First Officer says, "Carry on," and leaves for the Bridge.

In Sickbay, Dr. Villa gives both Kylah and Rangin a full scan and, soon, a (tentative) clean bill of health. She nevertheless hands each a small biosigns monitor, flat, matte black and about ten centimeters long, to clip inside their uniforms for the next 24 hours, and says, "All right, you're free to go, but let me know immediately if you notice any unusual symptoms."

Kylah is feeling better; Rangin still feels great.

Graham's cabin is just as he left it. Mahmoud isn't there, obviously.

Collins sends a text message to Graham Hey, Booker. Please let me know when the three of you go to Mess - I want to meet you there. She pauses before sending, rereading the message a few times to be sure it isn't in the least inappropriate, then sends.

"Thank you ma'am, if there is anything I will let you know." Rangin responds to Dr Villa.

As they leave, Rangin turns to Kylah and says, "If you want any company when you head back down to Omicron Ceti III, let me know. And if you would prefer to go alone, I quite understand."

Relieved to have received permission and having an uneventful medical exam, Kylah nods. "I would be grateful to have you with me, at least on the journey. Although I think the apology is something I should tender to Lord Fastolfe myself." She faces Velir and sends him a look of concern. "But if you are tired, please do not push yourself. I realize I do not yet fully know what exactly happened after I lost consciousness. I can go alone if you need to rest. Otherwise, perhaps once we are down on the planet, you can tell me everything."

A thought occurs to her and she turns back to Dr. Villa. "Excuse me, doctor. What happened to Dr. T'Var and Lt. Delaney? Have they been beamed up yet? Are they all right?"

Graham's surprised to get a message from Collins. He's not really sure why: it's not like we were enemies. But we also weren't close. I guess she probably wants to get back into the swing of things, he thinks. I suppose I would too.

He debates how to respond. In truth he doesn't know what Kylah and Rangin intend, and it strikes his as unfortunate they aren't all keyed up to have a drink together. On the other hand, Rangin surely wants to spend no more time with me than duty demands. And Kylah...

As he strips down to shower, he's troubled by the question of whether he should have determined what she was up to, and whether he should have at least tried to figure out if she was OK--beyond what Villa could determine, he thinks: based on the...ramifications? trauma? of shit that happened on the mission.


He doubts he would have made headway, anyway, and in any event she's back on the Yorktown and as safe as one could be, all things considered, he thinks as he tunes the sonic shower.

What the hell, he thinks, pulling out a bottle of single-malt from his effects and downing a shot of whisky while the shower comes into optimal range of the parameters he's set. He's glad Mahmoud's not there--not that they haven't seen each other naked before, but trooping around in the buff to grab a drink would have been a little weird.

He blushes slightly, the thought of a high-five and a drink with T'Var popping to mind under these conditions (not that it would be the worst thing in the world at all...).

Just before he hops in the shower he replies to Collins. Hey I'll be heading to mess in about 20, will let u known.

Dr. Villa says, "Dr. T'Var is still on the surface. I don't know about Mr. Delaney; I haven't heard anything about him in awhile." She calls the Bridge. Lt. JG Soerjosoemarno, the duty Communications officer, says, "Mr. Delaney is on OC3. Would you like me to put you through to him?"

Collins reads Graham's reply and lets out a nervous sigh.

With an uneasy glance toward Velir before redirecting her gaze toward the doctor, Kylah shakes her head. "No, thank you, Lieutenant. I will contact him when I am on the planet." She hesitates and takes a step closer to the other woman. "Dr. Villa, I do no know how much you were told while I was unconscious, but Mr. Palver claimed he used mind control on Dr. T'Var and Dr. Halsey, forcing them to fake the autopsy findings regarding Mr. Wilson's time of death. I am fairly sure that was a lie, an attempt to shatter Vice Admiral's alibi and frame him for the murder. I mean, given your own involvement in the autopsy, running the scans yourself and later confirming the time of death with me... not to mention Dr. T'Var being a Vulcan with great control of her mind. But even so, perhaps Dr. T'Var should be checked out to ensure she is exhibiting no signs of having been harmed? And Dr. Halsey too?"

Rangin waits patiently to one side while Kylah finishes talking to Dr Villa. At this moment he feels fine, like he could go the whole day again, although if that meant getting soaked thrice over, attempting not to be killed by a lightning and being psychically manhandled by a Rhaandarite who was not supposed to have those kind of powers, then he'd pass and go do something more interesting instead.

He never did get to go on that hike, probably wouldn't get the chance now.

After twenty minutes of staring into space, Collins heads to the Mess to meet Graham.

If he's already there, she'll join him at his table, if not, she'll pick a table reasonably away from any others who may be there.

Before she sits, she takes a tray and accepts whatever the dispenser is dispensing this evening, along with a cup of coffee and an apple.

Dr. Villa looks startled to hear about Palver's possible mind control of Drs. T'Var and Halsey. "I was involved in the autopsy, yes, but not every part of it," she says. "Since there were three of us, we split up responsibilities. I was focused on tissue and fluid collection, not determining time of death or some of the other tasks. When I spoke to you about that later, I just referred to Dr. T'Var's report. I agree that the doctors should be checked out... perhaps we might even arrange for mindmelds? Hmm. Let me think about that."

The CMO sees to the transfer of Palver to a bed in a small, secure recovery room, and arranges for ongoing sedation to suppress his higher brain functions. "We can't keep him here forever, though," she says. "I'll have a word with the Captain."

Mess Hall 1 isn't very crowded, and Graham hasn't shown up yet. Collins can get whatever she wants from the replicator in addition to her coffee and apple.

Kylah shakes her head, confused by the doctor's sudden wavering. "That is--with respect, Dr. Villa, that is not how I recollect things. We were told that T'Var was in charge of collecting the body fluids, while you were in charge of analysis--running a full battery of toxicology scans and tests--and that Nurse Perry assisted you as well, so she is another witness. Further, was Dr. T'Var speaking falsely when while still on board the Yorktown, she told us that she, you and Halsey consulted one another and, given the facts, concurred on the time of death?"

Graham showers and changes into a well-broken in gray tee-shirt and a pair of comfortable black pants just a cut above workout clothes. He passes a mirror and frowns.

Dammit. These missions where we mostly talk-talk-talk make me soft and flabby, he thinks, although he realizes he probably hasn't really physically changed in just two days. Nonetheless, he feels the need to work out, but hunger prevails.

He heads to Mess Hall 1.

(Assuming Graham arrives and sees Collins)



Graham approaches Collins at her table. "Hey, L-T-, mind if I join you?" he asks, not entirely sure she'll say yes given the weirdness earlier. Or for that matter his own stupidity back on OC3 when she was in command and, in hindsight, obviously dealing with some medical shit. But he tries to smile encouragingly. "Bearing in mind, I intend to eat like horse and am inclined to drink myself silly."

"I may join you in that drink," Collins replies "Since the, uh, thing" she cannot bring herself to say miscarriage "I haven't been myself. I'm afraid I said the wrong think to you all in the transporter room. It's not that I wasn't concerned. I was trying to lighten the mood. Get you all to smile." Jeremi sighs. "I screwed up. Like I screwed up on OC3. I'm glad you're all okay and that you solved the murder. I've recommending all of you for commendations."

Dr. Villa looks even more puzzled. She says, "Well, that's what I remember having happened. I reviewed what she and Dr. Halsey had found - or said they had found - and written down, as to time and death. From what they said, the estimated time of death seemed right. I didn't check body core temperature, lividity and so forth myself. I certainly don't think either of them purposefully lied or tried to mislead me. All the more reason, I think, to have them checked. I wouldn't want it to turn out that Palver had somehow... conditioned them to carry out a longer-term plan."

Kylah is beginning to wonder if there's a single department on this ship headed by a competent officer. The CMO ran a battery of tests on blood and body fluids and didn't notice whether the time they ceased functioning matched up with what the body looked like? Blood that has ceased flowing through veins is one of the means by which time of death is identified--Kylah's unfortunate experience with her parents' deaths has taught her enough about that.

Further, should a CMO who was in attendance through the entire autopsy have concurred to a time of death without personally checking the data, even so much as to test the body temperature? When a murder has taken place?

She shakes her head. "No," she says grimly. "I would not want it to turn out that Palver had conditioned them to carry out a longer-term plan either. That would be very, very bad indeed. Good luck with checking them out." Or passing the job off to some underling and taking his word for it, most likely.

Tired of dealing with fools, Kylah turns to glance at Velir before leaving the room. When they are further down the corridor on the way to the transporters, she murmurs to him: "First she blithely accepts your sudden ability to shake off mind control yet is extremely perturbed by my having the audacity to lose consciousness after all I have experienced. Now this. I do not know which department is worse, Security or Medical. Which would you say?"

Rangin thinks for a moment or two, open his mouth to say something, thinks better of it and closes it slowly again.

After walking a little further, he has worked out what he is going to say. "I think the term you are looking for is either more relaxed or more sloppy depending on your point of view. I'm surprised by how things ran and interacting with others while on OCIII. In some ways it is a little friendlier than USS Lexington, in other ways it feels not quite up to scratch as if Command are not paying as much attention as they should. Ultimately, they are responsible for the running of the ship and the example set to the rest of the crew. Commodore Wesley would have had a field day here though."

"But, they're only human," Rangin smiles at the implication, "some good, some bad. As a Constitution class vessel though, I'd say not everyone here is good enough and of those some will learn and should stay and some won't and should be removed. There is a real bias in some areas, which is going to get highlighted in my report on OCIII at least. Beyond that, who knows, but I certainly hope it improves. I don't really want to wind up in the worst performing crew in the fleet, especially on a ship of this status."

"Well, ah, look," Graham replies, "obviously you've had a lot, uh, going on..." He shifts awkwardly in his chair, wondering how to either cheer her up or at least change the subject. "None of us exactly covered ourselves in glory down there," he says, shrugging. Only some of ourselves covered ourselves in blood, though, comes to mind. Fuck.

"Uh, look, anyway, tomorrow's another day, right?" He smiles. "Who knows where we'll be sent--after the way this went down, we're due to be ordered, loaded for bear, into a red-hot combat zone only to be greeted by flower-bearing hippies riding singing pink ponies."

He gestures. "What will you have? I think I'm going to wash down one hell of a big steak with one hell of a strong whisky."

"Whisky sounds good, thanks. At least I can drink again." Collins tries to put a laugh behind that statement, but it comes out flat. "Hippies on singing ponies, huh? I look forward to it." and manages to smile at the mental image.

"Great!" Graham says, mustering up some enthusiasm, and clapping Collins on the shoulder as he stands. "I'll get us set up."

He walks over to* secure the drinks.

*to the replicator? or is there any human service in the mess?

There are no mess stewards. Graham can order what he wants - within reason - from the replicator.

Graham orders two doubles, neat, of a peaty single-malt scotch from Earth. After reflecting a moment, he orders a bone-in-ribeye, mashed potatoes, and creamed spinach. He starts to whistle softly as he puts the items on a tray. A moment after stepping away from the replicator, he turns back and racks his brain for something to get to cheer Collins up.

He sighs as he comes up blank, but decides a cupcake would be a tried-and-true strategy. He returns with the drinks, meal, and a cupcake to the table.

Collins picks at the Pasta Primavera she'd ordered from the replicator while Graham is away from the table. She takes a few bites, then sips some coffee.

Just before they reach the same transporter room they arrived in, Kylah raises an eyebrow at Velir. "You chose the wrong profession, Ensign Rangin," she says with a brief tilted smile. "You should have been a diplomat. Only human, you say. I fear my experiences with humans have been almost universally poor. I somehow expected better from a ship with such a reputation. When I think of how many times my life has been put in jeopardy because of the errors made by people who are supposed to be on the same team as I... It worries me.

"This time," she says with more determination, "I vow I will not stay silent in my report, as I did after our first mission. And yet I have little faith that there will any repercussions for the way my orders and suggestions were continually ignored. If it were possible to send my complaints to a higher authority, I would--but now we must worry about just what sort of corruption lies at even the highest level, given..."

Rather than continue, Kylah just shakes her head and enters the transporter room. She nods at the transporter engineer and explains that they have been given permission to beam back down to the planet, and asks to be transported near the hotel's residential houses, if possible.

Graham sits across from Collins, rubs his hands in anticipation, and loudly cracks his knuckles. He places the drink in front of Collins, then, after a brief pause, the cupcake.

"I thought this--well, I don't know if you like sweet stuff at all, but I figured lots of folks like cupcakes, so I hoped this would cheer you up, L-T." Graham says, picking up his own drink and offering to clink classes.

Collins looks from Graham to the cupcake and back again, and smiles. She raises her glass to meet his and says "Sláinte!" After they take a sip, or in Graham's case, a slug, she says "I know you're not one for the touchy-feely stuff, so I'll skip that." She takes another sip. "I was off, on this mission, I know. How could I have done better?"

Graham nods, acknowledging her toast.

After a moment, he speaks.

"Hell," Graham says, following his first drink with a second. "Maybe I'm not who you should be asking." He frowns and rubs his chin. "I really let you down out of the gate." He looks down at his glass for a moment, then takes another drink.

"Well, look, it's a pretty green team, right, and you're all pretty new to working together. The things is, when you're in command, on the one hand, people have no choice but to listen to you--even if they start to think they've got better ideas. But more important, they usually really, really hope you know what you're doing, because they may not have a better idea about how not to get embarrassed in front of the higher-ups, or injured, or killed--so they want to feel like they can count on you."

"So displaying uncertainty, or changing your mind, is a tricky thing. On the one hand, charging ahead like a bull-necked idiot is likely to cause trouble. On the other, it implies maybe they shouldn't count on you... You've got to try to always be as confident and decisive as you can--at the same time, you need to create conditions where folks are telling you what they think, and when you change your mind it feels like it's because one of them came up with a whizz-bang great idea, and isn't it reassuring that our commanding officer--despite all his or her expertise--is so good about soliciting input..."

He shrugs. "Or you could just get meaner and more intimidating like Vargas, and shut everybody up that way," he adds.

Collins chuckles. "Oh yeah. The Commander would love the competition in the 'who's the bigger hardass' game." Collins laughs and holds her now empty glass out for a refill.

"First you've got to high-five me," Graham says, holding up his hand. "Uh, just humor me on this one..."

Collins complies and smacks Graham's hand maybe a little too hard.

"Now that's the spirit!" Graham says, nodding briskly and standing up to go get another round. We'd be in chest-bump territory now with Mahmoud or Rachel Weinstein, he thinks, but he's not at all sure Collins would react well to that, so he settles for an encouraging pump of his fist.

OK, Booker, he reminds himself, that last one was a double--just one more, you're not trying to drink Collins back into Sickbay, you're trying to help the two of you unwind.

He brings back a single pour for each of them, and leans back a bit in his chair rather than downing it in a gulp. "Just, ah...I'm sure you'll be all right L-T, one you get your legs under you."

Chief Harrison beams Rangin and Kylah down to the park near the guest houses, not far from where Wilson's body was found.

"Yeah," Jeremi agrees. "I am itching to get back into the action, but I keep getting side-railed by my emotions, or hormones, or ...." She looks at Graham intently. Do I trust him? I'm going to need a support system in place, someone I can run to who'll stop me or at least talk me out of it, but I don't know if Graham's the one for the job. Screw it, gotta start somewhere, right? "Can you keep a secret?"

Graham keeps his face impassive. Crap, is this going to be more drama? Graham thinks. I haven't finished my steak yet... Well, let's face it Booker, you're not the Starfleet Psychological Association's picture of sweetness and light either, so don't throw stones...

"Uh, time bomb attached to the warp core, not so much, but otherwise..." he pauses. "What are, ah, friends for, right?"

"This has to stay between us." Collins begins, "I mean Dr. Villa knows, but she's keeping it out of my file." She pauses and takes a sip of whisky. Very quietly, Jeremi says "I am going to go thru withdrawal from a synthetic hallucinogen. I am fine. No DTs or anything like that, and it probably won't be an issue for a couple of months. It wasn't a daily habit, I only used a couple of times a year, and only when I knew I'd be off duty for a few days. But I need to quit completely. And I'm going to need someone to turn to when I get crazy." She looks at Graham, hoping to see empathy or at least concern. "I'm hoping that can be you, my pseudo brother."

"Diplomatic corp," Rangin eyes go distant for just a moment and he remembers a few things. "No, I don't think that would work somehow."

After they have beamed down, he looks across at Kylah, "So where to. I guess Fastolfe's house is that one over there, though you might want to check to see if he is in. Still want me along when you meet him?"

Graham winces slightly. Pseudo-brother. Was that what I was to my real sisters?


He exhales slowly. "Well, if Villa knows then of course, there's no cause for me to be telling anybody else, anyway--not that I was a planning to" he says, slowly. "But...ah, more important," he continues, doing his best to look sympathetic and supportive. "I've got my own...uh, history with more traditional substances." He glances down and taps his glass, then looks back at Collins. "So I know how things can get...tough, or...out of control..."

"And how some help can come in handy...so, yeah, don't worry, I'll watch you ass...uhhh, back, L-T. This time you can count on me."

Collins smiles, grabs Graham's closest hand, and squeezes it. "Thank you." She pauses, and playfully adds "I might even let you win a game of one-on-one for this."

Kylah is briefly distracted from Velir's words by the impact of standing so close to where the dangerous part of their mission began. He was right here, she thinks, and automatically aims her attention at the red Victorian house not far in the distance--the one Palver had stayed in. "To think he planted Wilson's body right near his own house," she says softly, almost to herself. "How clever and malicious. Both a double-bluff to deflect suspicion, and a way to keep an eye on his trophy. What a manipulative monster."

She shudders and refocuses on Velir. "Thank you, but I should speak to Lord Fastolfe alone--although I do not think his attorney will leave his side, nor will his bodyguard, so it will not really be alone at all. Knowing you, there is probably some unfinished business you would like to check up on?" Kylah smiles and checks her chronometer. "Perhaps we can meet back here in... say, fifteen or twenty minutes?"

Dr. T'Var enters the Mess Hall. She sees Graham and Collins and comes over. She asks, "May I join you?"

"Yes, please." Collins reaches for one of the empty chairs and pulls it away from the table for T'Var.