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[Bridge - NPC Ensign Regina George]

"Yes, sir." Regina's heart fluttered at the thought of a potentially hostile ship. A starship isn't a fighter, I can't turn this thing on a dime... Her quiet frustration seemed to intensify as she looked at the seemingly bleak outlook and lack of options. There was a planet below them and not much else. Looking at the overlay, she remembered vaguely something about speed being the crucial factor in orbits. Then a little more came from basic physics about potential energy of objects due to gravity. For a brief moment she wished she had paid more attention during lectures, but she had what she needed. Plotting a descent, the ship would accelerate at full power and use the boost from the gravity well to slingshot away.

"I spend most of my time in sickbay," Henriks remarked. "Lieutenant Oswald's called me in for quite a few extra shifts lately, because it's been a little understaffed. Things have finally quieted down, but I still go in to do extra work to keep mind my off things and to stay busy. And my quarters are on the same deck... so I don't normally see a whole lot of the ship." He took a sip of the fizzy red liquid in his glass, swirling the ice around a little. "I tend to prefer strawberry or mint flavored beverages, fizzy when possible. What are those round dark things?" he asked, referring to the spheres going up her straw.

"Tapioca. Beverage dates back to the late twentieth century on Earth. Taiwan to be precise. I usually go for melon-flavored things, berries if I can't find anything else. Root beer is another favorite, but there is one beverage that I only get during special occasions because of my fond memories of having it with my father and grandfather. It's a type of ginger ale, brewed in Wisconsin, which has a nice caramel flavor. It also is so bubbly that you must exhale slightly while you sip it or you'll choke from the fizz. Quite wonderful really." She leaned back in her chair with a slightly menacing grin.

Henriks felt himself beginning to relax as he listened Jiseth explain a concept he had little understanding off. She paused mid-sentence, perhaps seeing the confused look on his face as his brows furrowed slightly. He understood the rest, but it must have been rather tedious for her to put it into simple terms that he could understand. "I think I'm starting to get it..." he said, pausing to try and figure why she had used nautical miles when saying how far she was from landing on the moon. But he came to the conclusion that it was not terribly important at the moment and he could always ask later.

He scooped his plate up into one hand and hers into the other, giving a slight shrug as if to say he wouldn't be long. Henriks quickly covered the distance to the food replicators and disposed of the dishes. "One honeydew boba tea, please," he asked the computer, ordering her drink first. He had no idea what it was supposed to look like, so when it materialized, he would just have to hope for the best and that it was what Jiseth wanted. Then for himself, he pondered a moment before deciding on a "Strawberry Italian soda." When that materialized, he took the two drinks back to where Jiseth was patiently waiting.

"What sort of things do you like to do," he asked, "when they aren't keeping you busy piloting the ship?" He took a sip of his beverage, savoring the sweet taste. Having completely run out of ideas for conversation, he fell back onto one of the standard get to know you better sort.

"Usually in my quarters with a book or technical manual. I have a few hobbies, one of which is astronomy. Brought a reflecting telescope with me that has a thirty centimeter mirror. Every now and then I try to explore parts of the ship. It's easy for me to do since the shuttle bay is so far aft. Today though, I guess I was curious as to who I'm on this ship with." A few of the dark rounds spheres went up the straw as she sipped from the pale green slush. "How do you like yours? I prefer cherry with a little vanilla myself."

"That's unfortunate..." he replied with an apologetic shrug. "But I hope you get to go to the moon soon. Would be something fun to do the next time the Church is out near Earth. Nautical miles... how does that compare to a regular mile?" Henriks didn't understand the difference between the two or why they had to be called two different things. He tried not to sigh again, so instead he shifted slightly in his seat as he continued.

"Obon sounds very interesting, reminds me a bit of November first celebrations, for remembering the dead." He paused for a brief moment to do the math in his head. The last song fest had been in 2386, if he remembered correctly. "The song fest takes place every five years, and it seems like you're in luck. The next one should be this summer." A grin began to return to his face. "It's glorious. I can't wait, and if I have to, I'll ask for a short leave to go. I don't want to have to wait another five years for the next one, especially since it's going to be my sister's first time taking part."

Gesturing to Jiseth's empty plate, he asked, "May I take that for you?" He had in mind to go back over to the replicators to discard his plate and unfinished sausage, as well as to get something to drink. It would only be polite for him to take her plate as well and save her the trip. "And would you like anything?"

"It's about one arc minute-" she stopped and looked at him, realizing that he probably had no idea what that was either, "A statute mile is 5280 feet and a nautical mile is 6076. In atmosphere, the geometry of the sphere is what gives a necessity to the nautical mile, helps with navigation, but in open space we stick with kilometers. Still, it helps to memorize all three and your operating limits within them." The thought of visiting some place new was rather appealing and she noted to herself to keep a period of time open for travel.

"Honeydew boba tea, please." Jiseth raised an eyebrow as she brought her hands to her elbows as she leaned on the table with them. "And thanks."

The Borg incursion happened before the start of the war with the Dominion, so that would not have been affected by a different outcome to the conflict.

Not quite? The USS Odyssey was destroyed in 2370, which in and of itself should be considered a blatant act of war. Considering Doctor Bashir and many other key figures, Martok and Ambassador Krajensky for example, were replaced by Changelings before the attack on DS9 I don't think that particular battle should be considered the start of the war. Just my thoughts.

"I can't say I have," Henriks replied, folding his hands on the table. "When we would stare out into space, we'd stare right past the moon or in a completely different direction. We were more interested in visiting the distant corners of the galaxy, other stars, other planets. Though I guess the moon would be a cool place to see. I take it you've been?" He leaned back in his chair a little before continuing. "It's great that flying is your life. I guess it is for all of us here, though not all of us are at the controls, piloting this thing." He grinned slightly at the thought.

"And if we do ever get the chance, I would be more than happy to show you around my country. It is so beautiful in the summertime, with all the flowers and people strolling through the streets. Though if you do go, make sure it's for one of the song fest years. Lots of people dress up in traditional costumes and the music is stupendous. My father and younger sister are going to be playing in the next one. And Latvia is only cold in the winter, when we get such wonderful snow. It heats up more in the summer, when our part of the Earth is tilted towards the sun. Some days, the sun doesn't even set until ten at night. But I prefer the cold weather we get in the winter."

"I went around the moon. Was supposed to land and spend two days there for an academy project, but my shuttle... broke. I was so close, just sixty nautical miles..." There was a faint smile that traced her lips, "There's a festival in Japan around mid-July, Obon. Commemorating one's ancestors and lots of dressing up. Fireworks, food and fun in public, but in private it's quite a somber time except when we go out to release the candle boats." There was a half-hearted chuckle as she glanced to her now empty plate, "Romulans really like it there... Is this year a song fest one?"

Well, the bigger issue is that the Borg made their incursion towards Earth during this time (First Contact) so if the Dominion interfered with Starfleet's response, then the Borg actually win.

Henriks listened as Jiseth spoke, taking the opportunity to take a few more bites of his meal. The sausage was a bit too greasy for his liking, and so he pushed it to the side of his plate half finished. He scooped the sauerkraut onto the fork and from the fork into his mouth. At least the replicator had done alright on that, though it could never get it just the way it was cooked at home. There was just something in the air that added a magical quality to the food, something severely lacking on a starship, where the air had a stale quality.

He set his fork down, letting it chink as it hit the plate. "I don't really know what to think about this holiday anymore. It's all fine and dandy when you have loved ones to celebrate with, but when they're gone..." His gaze fell to the plate as Jiseth rose, not noticing her attempt to avoid eye contact. When she returned, she had a with her a piece of pepperoni pizza, something Henriks didn't have growing up. It looked good.

Picking up the fork again he shrugged, poking at the sausage. While he didn't know exactly where the places she had named were, they sounded warm, not entirely pleasant. "I was born and lived my whole life in a small country called Latvia. It's one of the Baltic states along Russia," he began. "My family lives in the capital, a very beautiful city, especially in the wintertime. And until we enlisted, my brother and I had never been out of the country. I guess I've seen more in the last couple months than I have in the rest of my life." He'd seen so much of the galaxy already and had even seen more of Earth. He sighed, trying to get his thoughts off family. "So any particular reason you went for flight control?"

"I'm a third generation pilot. My dad flies civilian transports and my grandfather did it for one of the manufacturers before he became an engineer. Flying is my life essentially." Chewing on her current mouth full she glanced around the mess hall, "I've seen it from orbit, Latvia. I'd love to visit it in the summer at some point, I'm not exactly fond of the cold, but I might give it a shot. Perhaps you could show me around." Pondering it for a little bit, she realized that so far everything she had seen had been out a window, never actually landing and seeing what was there. "Have you ever considered going to Earth's moon?"

Henriks' stomach grumbled again, and so he offered Jiseth an apologetic look. "I'll be right back. I think my stomach will kill me if I don't give it something soon." That said, he rose and quickly made his way to the food replicator. He asked it for some sauerkraut and sausage, the first thing to come to mind. He returned to the table perhaps a minute or two after he had left it. Sliding back into the seat, he said, "I got off shift only half an hour ago. Very dull today." Especially in comparison to what Jiseth had done. "The only thing of interest was a repeat offender who came in with a sprained wrist."

She had touched on the subject of refugees on Earth, leaving Henriks to wonder is she had been one of them or what her situation was like growing up. But he wasn't sure if it would be indelicate of him to ask. So he stabbed at his sausage and waited a moment for the juices to spew out before taking a bite, asking, "You grew up on Earth then?"

Placing both elbows up on the table, she propped her head up with her knuckles. Sausage and sauerkraut was a meal she and her father seemed to exclusively enjoy in the family. The smell brought her back to happier memories when she was younger which she seemed to be buried at times among the others. "Orlando and Tokyo to be precise. I did live on Romulus for a little bit, before I joined Starfleet. I promised someone I would go back after my first year and take them to see Earth. When the star went supernova, she..." Jiseth hadn't even realized it at first and she was taking a swan dive into her personal life. She let out a slight sigh, "I hate Valentine's Day."

"Excuse me." She tried not to make eye contact with Henriks as she rose with an empty plate and headed to the replicator. After recycling the plate, she called for a piece of pepperoni pizza, New York style. Returning to the table, she took a bite from the end and chewed for a few moments, "Yourself? Where are you from?"

Where was she? Henriks pondered to himself, staring down at the table as he began to get lost in thought. Maybe she was sick, or had gotten held up by something. Maybe he should go find where she had disappeared to. But suddenly he found his thoughts going in a completely different direction. This was the first Valentine's day he had spent away from family, he had realized, and the same would be true for many of the holidays. His family never did any special for this particular holiday, but they would do little things for each other that somehow made the day magical, and he hadn't done anything, not even sent out any messages, a task he would have to take up later in the day. But at the moment he found himself pining for the love of someone who had passed two months since. "Kur tu esi, Oma?" he said with a sigh.

A sudden arrival jarred him from his thoughts, and he looked up to find Jiseth had joined him at the table... with delectable looking food. "That looks delicious," Henriks remarked as his stomach grumbled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten yet. "And happy valentine's day to you as well, Jiseth," he added. "Been a good one for you?"

"The same as any other day," she said as she continued into the cake, her fork slicing through it with remarkable ease. "Not many seem to be aware, but Romulans are very passionate about such things. One of the few holidays that the refugees on Earth actually enjoy. I gave some cards and candies to the other officers in my department, with less than spectacular results. So I've been spending my day off training Cadet Essai in the holodeck and people-watching."

[Mess Hall]

He entered the mess hall and took one of the first seats he could find, plopping into it without really caring much how graceful his landing was. Scanning the room, he recognized many of the faces he saw. Most of them he knew from people having visited sickbay. But he did not see Amelie. Maybe she was running late.

Over the last several hours Jiseth had remained in the mess hall with a PADD going over questionnaires that had been sent out from the CFCO, Lieutenant Graham, about possible flight vectors and maneuvers in and around the planet they were on course to. She had lost count of how many glasses of water, tea, root beer, Fanta-Melon, Calpico and red moscato she had taken in between the snack every now and then, but that didn't stop her after she finished with the PADD from getting more of the green soda she loved along with two pieces of strawberry cream cake.

Turning from the replicator she noticed Henriks and sat down in front of him, setting one of the plates down on his side of the table. "Happy Valentines Day..." she said quietly before taking a fork to her piece.

This assumes that the infection that crippled the Founders didn't occur, which was the primary reason for the surrender; their strategic losses only removed incentive to remain the in Alpha Quadrant, if I remember correctly.

Got about a foot here in Occidental Virginia, as well.  We were right on the edge of all this crap.  The roads aren't too bad, but it'll be interesting to see if I can back my car out of the drifts tomorrow.   

I'm sipping on red moscato at the moment and preparing for tomorrow's inevitable mass-killing that will some people call "driving"...

Deon listen to Jiseth without touching his steak.  He'd ask the question because he was curios to know more about her.  Well he just found out a lot.

"I lost my father in that attack.  I was five.  We're here for the same reason.", Deon said he steak forgotten.

There was a long series of slight nods and then she glanced out the window again, "I wonder where mine is right now... He's a transport pilot." Slowly Jiseth spun her glass between her hands and her thoughts became those of home. One thing she had always done since she was little was try to envision what one's last moments would be like, what thoughts would be going through their minds and all the regrets pouring out at once. Over the years she grew to severely disdain anyone who couldn't do the same, especially if they were Starfleet personnel, but she didn't get the vibe from Essai that he wasn't anything other than thoughtful. "Why did you decide to go yellow-shirt?"