S1 - Episode 3 - Open House

[Michael J. Tritter]

[Chief Se/Tac Office]

"OK" Zex replied in a friendly manner.  She was pretty sure that she had read that Octoberfest had started in German.  But maybe she was wrong.

"We're all done now.  The inoculation should be good for a standard year.  You can put your shirt back on now if you like" she added as she returned the equipment to the kit and then closed it up.

Tritter sensed the comment was taken the wrong way, but he will leave it that way. He would than nod slightly and put his shirt back on, being the meticilious type, he would make sure his aplearance was once again in order. He kept his gaze focused on her for the time being, as he was unsure if the medical officer needed anything further of the man.

[Vem, son of Motag]

[Promenade]

Vem looked quizzically at his combadge, almost like he didn't know it could talk when Commander Stafford messaged him back personally. So much for (Vem's version of) formalities.

"Sounds peachy, Á¢â,¬ËœMander." Was what the Klingon rasped back in a voice that might have belonged to a smoker of 50 years.

As Hust passed Vem he got an overwhelming sense of mystery- intrigue and boundless curiosity, an empathic feeling he almost constantly exuded. There was something... different about Vem. His emotions didn't seem to belong to a specific race, walk of life- it was the difference between a painting and photograph. His were... weird.

Vem paid him no attention, or at least no more than any other person on the station. Like a puppy with sensory overload Vem was looking at everything high and low. His boundless curiosity was not just a synthetic creation.

"Way ahead of you Dan." Vem replied and rested his elbow against the railing. As far as he could tell- he was early to the party.

He was keeping a look out for the Commander or... someone who looked like they should have could be the Commander. He honestly had no idea what the man looked like so anyone was fair game.

"Uh... Commander Stafford?" He asked an energy being from Trigdor XIV who simply gibbered in response and kept moving.

"Guess not... uh... excuse me! Commander Stafford!" He asked to a Bolain commander who looked at him funny.

"No... I see I was mistaken."

This was going to take a while.

[Sevoc]

Taryn was completely caught off guard by the CO's response.

"I guess so." she replied to other Ensign. "I wonder if it's always like this." she said before remembering how little he had spoken before. I guess Vulcans don't make small talk. she thought as they headed for lift. From Deck Four to Deck....then it hit her. The Promenade actually took up five decks with several places on each. The Commander didn't specify where to meet him at. She turned to Sevoc once more. "The Promenade is a big area. Any idea where you want to start?" she asked.

[CO's Waiting Room]

"I am unsure," Sevoc began, "however, logic would suggest two options: The first, and possibly more time consuming, would be to start at the main bar area. Before I departed my last assignment, I had inquired about Commander Stafford. Turns out he does like to frequent such establishments. The second would be to simply ask the computer where he is at."

He spoke to the computer.

"Computer, what is Commander Stafford's current location?"

Commander Stafford is currently located in Bar 3 in the Promenade.

"See, it's a matter of simple logic," the ensign replied coolly.

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

[Bar 3 - Promenade]

"Like a drink, commander?" The bartender asked disinterestedly.

"I'll wait for my companions." Stafford answered, a touch sourly. He did want a drink, but the bartender's attitude rankled him. He missed Ash's sunny disposition and food already.

[Promenade]

Vem looked quizzically at his combadge, almost like he didn't know it could talk when Commander Stafford messaged him back personally. So much for (Vem's version of) formalities.

"Sounds peachy, Á¢â,¬ËœMander." Was what the Klingon rasped back in a voice that might have belonged to a smoker of 50 years.

As Hust passed Vem he got an overwhelming sense of mystery- intrigue and boundless curiosity, an empathic feeling he almost constantly exuded. There was something... different about Vem. His emotions didn't seem to belong to a specific race, walk of life- it was the difference between a painting and photograph. His were... weird.

Vem paid him no attention, or at least no more than any other person on the station. Like a puppy with sensory overload Vem was looking at everything high and low. His boundless curiosity was not just a synthetic creation.

"Way ahead of you Dan." Vem replied and rested his elbow against the railing. As far as he could tell- he was early to the party.

He was keeping a look out for the Commander or... someone who looked like they should have could be the Commander. He honestly had no idea what the man looked like so anyone was fair game.

"Uh... Commander Stafford?" He asked an energy being from Trigdor XIV who simply gibbered in response and kept moving.

"Guess not... uh... excuse me! Commander Stafford!" He asked to a Bolain commander who looked at him funny.

"No... I see I was mistaken."

This was going to take a while.

[Promenade - Bar 3]

There weren't many Klingons on Starbase Columbus, let alone ones who wore Starfleet uniforms and constantly looked like they were on a drug fueled moonlit berry picking expedition. This had to be the Chaplain, one Vem, son of Motag.

"NugneH, Chaplain Vem." Stafford said, raising his strained voice to carry across the bar. "Please, do sit. I have been looking forward to meeting you."

[Kirok]

Tritter sensed the comment was taken the wrong way, but he will leave it that way. He would than nod slightly and put his shirt back on, being the meticilious type, he would make sure his aplearance was once again in order. He kept his gaze focused on her for the time being, as he was unsure if the medical officer needed anything further of the man.

[Chief Sec/Tac's Office]

Zex returned the nod and pulled the med kit strap over her left shoulder.  When she turned back to Tritter, her smile was gone and her eyebrows were almost touching.  "Thank you for your time" the Deltan said and then turned to the door.

[Hust Kinun]

Deck 5
"Aye Sir." Howell replied with a polite nod as he agreed with the fact that they would both have to play host. Diplomacy only ever went so far with Dan and so he hoped that these guests would not be to challenging. "Indeed, I rarely find a dull or quiet moment on the base." Dan responded. "I'll See you around Commander." He said as he finished his sentence and made an about turn towards the turboblift. Entering it, he told it which deck he would like and then proceeded to tap his combadge, speaking Howell to Zex and the JAG officer, please meet me in the first officer's office at both your earliest convenience."=/\= Closing the channel, Dan then tapped his badge again to open another channel to Vem =/\=Howell to Vem, please meet the new station Commander at the Promenade immediately please. Howell out=/\=

[Promenade]

Aye Sir. he said, more than a little annoyed. "The JAG Officer"? Really? That's the best they knew him as? He knew Lawyer wasn't exactly the most respected profession, but they couldn't have at least said his actual name? Regardless, that was likely the First Officer, judging from the location of the meeting. He gathered his things, and, still out of uniform headed down to the right area. He was only briefly blocked by two guards who kept the riffraff out of the secured areas before arriving at the quarters. He'd had to prove his Identity, and so just went to a place and changed into his uniform, the red bar with his pip on proving his identity. He was an Ensign by rank but he was in charge of the one-man department he had been assigned to set up. The fleet here had been without a JAG officer for far too long, at least that's what command though. He pressed the door chime and waited to be let in.

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

[Outside Chief of Sec/Tac's Office]

Mahak had finished up the shuttle maintenance and had a great deal more of them to go. The Federation's recent restrictions were meant for safety, but the Vulcan couldn't help but feel that they would cause more annoyance than good. And overworked shuttle crews.

Though he had told himself he had too much work to do, tired eyes and a muddled mind had finally made him realize that it was illogical to continue without some rest. And so Mahak had found himself tromping over the station, boot heels clicking off of the deck, looking for something to do.

By chance, the Vulcan turned his head and saw an enormous man in the chief of security's office. Mahak was an avid amateur boxer and exercise enthusiast, so he couldn't help but admire the muscularity and bearing of the big man.

"Would it be logical to assume that you are the new chief of security?" The Vulcan asked, standing in the open door way.

[Michael J. Tritter]

[Chief Sec/Tac's Office]

Zex returned the nod and pulled the med kit strap over her left shoulder.  When she turned back to Tritter, her smile was gone and her eyebrows were almost touching.  "Thank you for your time" the Deltan said and then turned to the door.

Tritter nodded slightly to the female, he would reply with a simple "You are welcome", his heavy German accent reared it's head once again as he spoke.

[Outside Chief of Sec/Tac's Office]

Mahak had finished up the shuttle maintenance and had a great deal more of them to go. The Federation's recent restrictions were meant for safety, but the Vulcan couldn't help but feel that they would cause more annoyance than good. And overworked shuttle crews.

Though he had told himself he had too much work to do, tired eyes and a muddled mind had finally made him realize that it was illogical to continue without some rest. And so Mahak had found himself tromping over the station, boot heels clicking off of the deck, looking for something to do.

By chance, the Vulcan turned his head and saw an enormous man in the chief of security's office. Mahak was an avid amateur boxer and exercise enthusiast, so he couldn't help but admire the muscularity and bearing of the big man.

"Would it be logical to assume that you are the new chief of security?" The Vulcan asked, standing in the open door way.

He would watch her exit, once she exited, he noticed another Man standing in the doorway. Tritter would give the Vulcan the once over before the man spoke, once he did, he would reply with "Yes, that is correct, and you are?" His heavily accented voice slightly laden with curiousity as he spoke to the Vulcan. The man's posture was confident and his tone even keeled, nothing shook this man.

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

He would watch her exit, once she exited, he noticed another Man standing in the doorway. Tritter would give the Vulcan the once over before the man spoke, once he did, he would reply with "Yes, that is correct, and you are?" His heavily accented voice slightly laden with curiousity as he spoke to the Vulcan. The man's posture was confident and his tone even keeled, nothing shook this man.

[Security Chief's Office]

Mahak did have a cool, collected bearing along with Vulcan confidence to boot. Some would call it arrogant.

Though he was thoroughly dwarfed by the human, Mahak's posture and movements revealed no fear or intimidation as he stepped right up to the chief, the better to speak with him.

"I am Crewman Mahak, Flight Control. Peace and long life, sir." The Vulcan said with the traditional salute of his people. "Welcome to the Starbase Columbus."

[Michael J. Tritter]

[Security Chief's Office]

Mahak did have a cool, collected bearing along with Vulcan confidence to boot. Some would call it arrogant.

Though he was thoroughly dwarfed by the human, Mahak's posture and movements revealed no fear or intimidation as he stepped right up to the chief, the better to speak with him.

"I am Crewman Mahak, Flight Control. Peace and long life, sir." The Vulcan said with the traditional salute of his people. "Welcome to the Starbase Columbus."

Tritter's gaze remain focused on the man, he would than take a few steps forward, he would be standing about six feet from the Vulcan. He noticed they were not intimidated and there was a certain respect he had for the Vulcan due to that.

He pondered over their greeting to him, he found it curious, but he would reply with "Hello Crewman Mahak, I am Lieutenant Junior Grade Tritter, thank you for the welcome" His gaze locked onto the Vulcan.

[Vem, son of Motag]

[Bar 3 - Promenade]

"Like a drink, commander?" The bartender asked disinterestedly.

"I'll wait for my companions." Stafford answered, a touch sourly. He did want a drink, but the bartender's attitude rankled him. He missed Ash's sunny disposition and food already.

[Promenade - Bar 3]

There weren't many Klingons on Starbase Columbus, let alone ones who wore Starfleet uniforms and constantly looked like they were on a drug fueled moonlit berry picking expedition. This had to be the Chaplain, one Vem, son of Motag.

"NugneH, Chaplain Vem." Stafford said, raising his strained voice to carry across the bar. "Please, do sit. I have been looking forward to meeting you."

[Promenade]

The Klingon was on his 8th person (he was a Romulan a Lt.- Vem was getting desperate. He thought maybe the Commander had lost a pip or something) when Luke finally flagged him down. The Klingon smiled and trotted over like a mutty dog called in for supper.

He laughed a bit, "NugneH" more means 'What do you want?' than "Hello." he rasped, but then he began to ponder it, "Unless you DO mean what do I want... because I want a great many things. Unqualified happiness, spiritual fulfillment, a qual'jak from Trimdor XI, and... right now... a drink."

As he said those last words he plopped himself down on a stool and nodded, passing the bag he had got earlier to Commander Stafford. The last words came out as a matter of fact, just decided upon, statement.

"Here. I got you a gift. I'm not entirely sure what they are but, like the Lugranians say- Á¢â,¬ËœEvery new oppertunity start is like a bag of eggs. You'll probably find a few bad ones but the sustenance the others provide will be life sustaining'."

Vem nodded knowingly. He was about... 75% sure it was the Lugranians. It might have been the Dashans but who could tell the two apart except during qual'jaboor- am I right?

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

[Promenade]

The Klingon was on his 8th person (he was a Romulan a Lt.- Vem was getting desperate. He thought maybe the Commander had lost a pip or something) when Luke finally flagged him down. The Klingon smiled and trotted over like a mutty dog called in for supper.

He laughed a bit, "NugneH" more means 'What do you want?' than "Hello." he rasped, but then he began to ponder it, "Unless you DO mean what do I want... because I want a great many things. Unqualified happiness, spiritual fulfillment, a qual'jak from Trimdor XI, and... right now... a drink."

As he said those last words he plopped himself down on a stool and nodded, passing the bag he had got earlier to Commander Stafford. The last words came out as a matter of fact, just decided upon, statement.

"Here. I got you a gift. I'm not entirely sure what they are but, like the Lugranians say- Á¢â,¬ËœEvery new oppertunity start is like a bag of eggs. You'll probably find a few bad ones but the sustenance the others provide will be life sustaining'."

Vem nodded knowingly. He was about... 75% sure it was the Lugranians. It might have been the Dashans but who could tell the two apart except during qual'jaboor- am I right?

[Promenade Bar]

Stafford's ash streaked eyebrows rose further and further each time the chaplain started off on a tangent. Each tangent grew into another and another:

"Sorry, chaplain, my Klingon is not very..."

"Those are good things to want, I suppose..."

Finally, the Klingon handed over his gift.

There was...a smell of some kind that he was suddenly aware of. Was it the chaplain? Was it some alien nearby that he was not used to being around? Were the biofilters on the station malfunctioning and this was a microscopic parasitic being intent to destroy Federation?

No...it's his bag.

Fearing the worst, the commander upended it onto the bar.

The bartender with the poor customer service skills squawked in protest as a bloody torrent of egg shells, egg yolk, whole eggs (which cracked spectacularly open onto the bar) and fruit came gushing out of the bag. The scent was enough to throw a war targ off of its target.

The commander had seen a great deal in his career in Starfleet. More blood and guts and pain than he cared to admit, enough to kill a lesser man. So his stomach didn't turn and he did not recoil away. But he was still at a total and complete loss.

"Chaplain. You...shouldn't have." was all Stafford said, and he sounded like he meant it.

[Vem, son of Motag]

[Promenade Bar]

So they WERE eggs. Good to know.

Vem looked very proud of himself, "No no, think nothing of it Commander. I pride myself on finding exotic goods and sharing them with my friends. I recently found a WONDERFUL blue-colored bottle of... something. I'm told it alcoholic and possibly psychotropic."

He said this like it was the most interesting in the world with his raspy voice, "If you'd like, I could bring it by your office later for a sampling."

[Kirok]

Tritter nodded slightly to the female, he would reply with a simple "You are welcome", his heavy German accent reared it's head once again as he spoke.

[Chief of Sec/Tac's Office]

Zex turned back to Tritter and returned the nod.  As the doors hissed open, she passed Mahak.  "Greetings" she said as she passed by the Vulcan.

[Malcolm Adeyemi]

[Promenade Bar]

So they WERE eggs. Good to know.

[Promenade Bar]

The establishment was quickly clearing out as people made hasty exits. It smelled like a stable in the middle of summer crossed with an abandoned fruit stand.

Before the bartender could run away, Stafford nimbly reversed his cane and caught the fellow by his collar with the crooked end.

"Barkeep, pack up the good chaplain's...gift, here, and see it to my office." The commander said. Where it will be unceremoniously deposited in the nearest replicator!

Vem looked very proud of himself, "No no, think nothing of it Commander. I pride myself on finding exotic goods and sharing them with my friends. I recently found a WONDERFUL blue-colored bottle of... something. I'm told it alcoholic and possibly psychotropic."

He said this like it was the most interesting in the world with his raspy voice, "If you'd like, I could bring it by your office later for a sampling."

"I am afraid I cannot, chaplain." Stafford replied to the other man. "I cannot drink anymore. Not the real stuff, anyway. However, I have been meaning to link up with you and discuss matters of the spirit and our morale here on the Base. Now that I am in command I will be expecting different things from all of my department heads and advisers."