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Approved.

Approved.

It is said to add flavor.

I've had Co Au Vin made with brandy and could taste a difference - but no alcoholic after effects.

I haven't eaten much French food but coq au vin and pot au feu sound amazing!

Related question: what if instead of "Netflix and chili" we did "Netflix and chili"?

Approved.

[Bridge]

Adeyemi felt something old and ugly well up in him. It had been a long time since someone had seen fit to speak to him that way, even a superior officer. Being defied was not something he had ever liked, or experienced often in Starfleet. He saw himself, many years in the past, fists and voice raised. He wanted to fight. He has always been a very physical officer. When he had first started out in Starfleet he had settled more than one dispute with another cadet with violence. His blood thundered in his ears as he heard the hush of the crew around him. For a moment, it looked like it might go that way again.

The science officer's warning shook him out of it. He muttered something in the affirmative, eyes slitted and voice resentful.

"Extending shields," The admiral said in a low voice. In a moment, the Good Vibes was enveloped in a protective glow.

"Firing weapons," He then reported. The standard alarm rang out over the Shran as its phasers and a torpedo spread lanced out at the approaching Orion in an angry red burst.

[Bridge]
"Mr. Tempest, your request will have to be placed on hold." Michael said. If it was something for his eyes only, he would take it in his ready room when this scuffle was over. Until then, survival was on the menu and he was prepared to serve it to the entire crew.

"Red alert. Target their weapons array and fire all forward phasers and a spread of photon torpedoes. Helm, evasive maneuvers. I want you to dance around them the best you can." The warm lights of the bridged swapped to an ominous shade of red. The overhead lights dimmed and aside from the glow of the consoles and the alert panels, the darkness nearly consumed those on the bridge.

[Bridge]

The admiral was shocked. High strung, unorthodox, eccentric. He had heard all of these things about Captain Ferdinand before. But this was downright...piratical. He would have none of it, temporarily assigned to serve this man or not.

"Sir," Adeyemi said after a long moment. "We have not attempted to hail them. The vessel has made no overt moves to attack us. I will not fire upon what could merely be an overly curious group of sentient beings!"

When you cook with alcohol, most of it burns off during the cooking process so there is little left in the final produce. It does leave some flavor behind but unless you knew that there was beer in the recipe, you likely wouldn't be able to identify it.

Last night I made a marinara sauce with some cranberry wine and none of the people eating with me were able to tell it was in there until I mentioned it to them and even then, they couldn't pick out the flavor being cranberry.

So why cook with it?

Tag to the captain.

[Bridge]

"Get a transporter lock on their crew and beam them directly to sickbay." Michael said. "While you're at it, get a tractor beam on the freighter and bring her in slowly. I don't want to give our Orion friends any cause for concern. " He clenched his jaw as he finished the statement, giving him a gaunt complexion. "Status on the Orion vessel?"

[Bridge]

Adeyemi nodded, his fingers automatically obeying the captain's commands. Nearly 30 years of service in Starfleet would do that to a person.

The transporter came first, as people were hurt. The crew of the freighter rematerialized in sickbay after he was done.

The freighter was then locked on with a tractor beam and rocked. The admiral made a note of it. Apparently its damage extended to the inertial dampers. If so, it might be more extensive than they thought.

In response, the Orion combat vessel's engines flared, as if it were gathering itself for a mighty leap. It leaped forward through space.

"The Orion are on an intercept course," Adeyemi said in an urgent tone to the captain. "They're powering weapons, captain."

WW! Congrats to Shadow Fleet! I never thought I'd see the day where we had a seventh SIMM. Special thanks to Kirok, Julia, and Dylan for taking point on this.

The comment again made Taylor look towards the Admiral "I have them ready Sir, but shouldn't i wait for an order unless we are threatened"? It was an honest appraisal the shields and weapons would be fully available at the tap on the panel but the Captain or XO had not called for it.

"With respect sir I was taught that many issues were made worse by over enthusiastic Tactical officers". His adopted Father had told him many times of a fight with a Romulan D'Derridex Cruiser that may never have happened if a young ensign had not overstepped his Captain and armed weapons.

He was calming down now and he looked again at the Admiral. "Sir, are those scans showing any threats"? He asked just as the Captain spoke.

"Aye sir" He called out to the CO. When the Captain called for a Landing party the Ensign prepared to go as the duty officer he would be probably going to get the call.

[Bridge]

Good man. Adeyemi thought to himself, but what he said was:

"It never hurts to be cautious, of course. Especially with Orion in combat vessels." The admiral held up one of his large hands. "Spare me any Starfleet social justice jargon, if you've got any to give, ensign. I had an Orion woman serve under me for a bit on the Columbus, and she would confirm that those of her people that slave are among the worst scum in the galaxy."

"We can't go around painting in such broad strokes all the time, however." The admiral told the younger man. "Your initial impression was correct."

When the young man logged off to join the away mission, Adeyemi unobtrusively switched places with him, logging onto the main security station. He awaited further orders, continuing scans and remaining true to his word that he would not provoke a fight.

[Bridge]

"Thank you for the insight, Lieutenant." Michael affirmed. "Tactical, take note and practice caution with them as well. While we seemed to have caught them with 'their pants down,' there is still a possibility that they have a few more tricks up their sleeves than what Lieutenant Tempest has uncovered." Finally he turned his attention forward. He gazed at the speeding stars on the  viewscreen, the lull of sleep quietly trying to steal him away. "Helm drop us out of warp. Ops, open hailing frequencies: General frequencies so that both ships can hear."

[Bridge]

"Aye," Adeyemi said loud enough for the bridge to hear. He increased scanning power and range, not blatant enough to alert the Orion to any trouble, but he needed more information.

"Interceptor class, as Ensign Taylor said." The admiral told the captain before the hail was answered. "Combat vessel. Torpedo launchers fore and aft, standard Orion disruptors configured to broadside."

The computer was still displaying information for him as he relayed it. Adeymei resisted the urge to cross himself after he realized what they were up against. It wouldn't look good, a flag officer doing so, and they weren't in any trouble, anyway. A Sovereign class was more than a match for whatever dredge Orion slavers could get afloat.

"Looks like something a bit nastier on their port side, sir," He told Ferdinand. "I'd say its a jury rigged tricobalt device. It's Federation in origin. Maybe not Starfleet, but I'd say she's seen some scraps before, captain. And won them."

Tag malcolm

Tag back.

[Habitat Ring]

In a surprisingly smooth motion, Lyric swept Adeyemi up off his feet, and cradled him in her arms. It was an incongruous sight, the much larger Admiral being carried like a bride over the threshold by the petite Engineer. However she held him aloft effortlessly as she walked down the now deserted corridor. In an attempt to calm him, she spoke to him in a low soothing voice. Despite her initial panic to the epidemic, nurturing a sick patient came naturally to her.

"ANaLYN is in the Neural Core, correct?" Not waiting for an answer, she continued. "There's a service lift, just ahead. We should be able to get there in minutes." She continued to talk as she carried him to the turbolift and entered her code to activate it. "Everything's going to be ok, Malcolm. We're Starfleet and we save people, right?" Once the doors slid open she stepped inside. Movement down the hallway caught her attention though, and she halted the doors from closing once more.

[Service Lift]

The changeling's entire body flinched when the old man hit the floor, dead. The scene that had just unfolded in front of them was so surreal and nightmarish. Lyric stood there, numbed by shock, before she snapped back to the reality of the situation and closed the lift doors quickly, their destination set. She shook slightly, held Adeyemi tighter and murmured to him, "How could they have done that?"

[Habitat Ring]

Adeyemi was quite shamed to find himself being lulled to sleep. It was unusual, and he attributed it to his sickness. He was a solid eight hours a day man,never napped, and had once fallen asleep at a rendezvous point after an observation mission on Ios VII. He had always been able to sleep wherever, whenever, for the duration.

[Service Lift]

The old man had been stunned a handful of times, but sickness or doggedness had forced them into the kill shot. Or they had been ordered to kill and were fudging their orders on purpose. Either way, the man had taken a blast to the chest that reduced it to a cratered, smoking ruin. The admiral was glad Lyric could not smell and that his own nose was stuffed up. The scent must have been unimaginable.

"Neural Core," He said weakly, only to his companion, but the malfunctioning computer parroted a weak chirp in reply, and off they went.

"This isn't...proper, Mc...Lyric." He told her. "I stand on my own two feet, by the grace and power of our Lord Jesus Christ. Let me be..."

His words were brave, and he made a feeble struggle in her strong grip. It did nothing. Sweat was pouring down his face at an alarming rate. He coughed and made a weak attempt to unbutton his uniform collar, as weakly as a kitten.

[Neural Core]

Analyn was napping.

In her dreams, something formless and colorless but for the faintest wisp of an angry red had crept into her quarters, the one she had used to share with Adeyemi. Under the sealed door, somehow, like a silent and deadly gas attack. It flowed closer and closer to her. Looking down, she saw she was wearing a pair of miniature Starfleet boots. The red mist curled around them at a deceptive speed. She lifted her foot; the mist followed. Up her leg with the black leggings, the pink skirt, the little jacket, into her mouth. She opened her mouth to scream--

She awoke suddenly, feeling the weight of her sickness drag at her body. Analyn did not understand why she could not respond as quickly as she usually did. Tears spilled down the tiny cheeks as, turtle like, she found her way off of her back onto a seated position.

The door to the service lift opened, and she cried louder, expecting the red mist that had choked her in her dreams. But it wasn't, it was two figured stepping out, one of whom she did not recognize, but the other...

"Mack 'Em?!" She piped out in a sickly voice. "What's wrong? Why is he...are you sick?"

The little girl stood with great effort, and sneezing and coughing and sweating, hazel eyes bright with her own illness, dragged herself over to the man and the woman emerging.

"...daddy? Daddy, wake up." Analyn said to him softly, hopefully, tears in her eyes.

So, at what point do we round up the non-pineapplers and begin their mandatory indoctrination programme of the New Pineapple Order?

IMMEDIATELY.

At the sound of the voice next to him Chris snapped out of his momentary daze "erm confirmed Admiral" he relaxed a little knowing the Admiral was helping him. "From the shape and size of the ship combined with the warp traces, It would appear to be an Interceptor class Sir".

It was a relief they weren't up against a Frigate or Cruiser and Chris glanced quickly at the Admiral, nodding his head in thanks to Malcolm.

He quickly adjusted the scans to the surrounding area attempting to verify no one else was hiding in ambush.

[Bridge]

"That's a combat vessel, if this old memory serves correct," The admiral commented. The younger man's frayed nerves amused him slightly, or perhaps he was alleviating his own anxiety by a bit of friendly teasing.

"i do hope you plan on raising shields and adopting a defensive posture when we exit warp, son," Adeyemi said with a heavy handed attempt at a fatherly tone."