Season 3 Episode 2 - The Price of Pleasure

[Odelot]

Red Phoenix - Mess Hall of Social Anxiety

When the Witch offered her food, Odelot felt very bad about not offering her the last of his.

...But not so bad that he didn't grab a fistful of the offered fries from her plate.  These fries looked really good because they had some of the peel on them.   His Mom said one time that the peel had the good stuff in it.  And it was brown.

"We can be fry friends?" he asked the question hopefully, but wondered if his selfishness earlier had ruined things between them.

He hoped not.   Having a Witch as a friend seemed to be about the best thing he could think of right now.

Odelot glanced to Dihiq, who had also taken a fry, and hoped that he might use that fact as additional friendship paste.

"Dihiq and Odelot and the Magic Witch?"

[Volskene]

[Mess Hall]

Volskene turned from the porthole as he sensed the nearly immediate silencing of the group. Though the Tholian didn't appear so, he was quite perceptive of the ebbs and flows of conversation (and lack thereof), a byproduct of his strongly communal species. He processed the scene slowly, before centering his eyespots on the source of the silence. That Orion, again.

It was ironic that she was one of the few species Volskene could recognize on sight (most humanoids looked the same), because the intense distrust he harbored matched his ability to perceive her species. Though he did not know her name, and had only met her a few times in passing, Volskene pondered how exactly such an individual had infiltrated the ranks of such an apparently prestigious organization as the Federation. Volskene had always had his doubts of these humanoids... even more so with allowing this alien's presence. Truthfully, the Tholian found it hard to take her words seriously as she spoke of the apparently illicit nature of their mission. At least until he heard mention of the Syndicate...

Volskene felt the PADD containing his subspace solutions slip from his claws, clattering to the ground with a rather unceremonious rattle. Streaks of rosy red and dull blue wove within him as he felt surprise, embarrassment, and then a slight upwell of rage within his thoughtspace. Of all the possibilities... the Syndicate's dealings were known well even in Tholian space. Their ships were simply fired upon if detected in Tholian space. His people had no patience for that sort of rabble. And neither did Volskene. As he crouched to retreive the PADD, he felt the red rage again, before he began to pace, back and forth, all six legs in a sort of strange state of constant flux. He tried to see if his contact, the Primary Medical Ruling Castemember, was anywhere in sight. Not spying her anywhere in the room, the Tholian exited the mess hall (nothing more to be done with these humanoids), venturing into the decrepit passageways of this scrap heap of a ship.

[Felicity Ellis]

[Passageways - Red Phoenix]

With each step, Felicity grew a little more concerned by McIntyre's silence. She'd been sure she'd accounted for every crewmember who had been drafted for this mission, but somehow the engineer must have escaped her notice. He wasn't the only officer with a tendency to disappear for a little alone time, though she knew exactly where the other one was. Holed up in a cargo bay with important science things, and yet to emerge.

However Xander Dorset was not as difficult to engage, and even less reluctant than usual when everyone's choice of pleasure resort attire was up for discussion. Her mouth curled upward in an indulgent smile while she reached around her back to grab the small personal PADD that she'd shoved into the waist of the very tight pants. She'd most definitely have to get rid of that before she left the Phoenix; aside from it being Starfleet issue, it did very little for her silhouette. Without slowing down she began to tap out a quick follow-up message.

To: Alexander Dorset
Importance: Low
Subject: What Are YOU Wearing?
From: Felicity Ellis

To: The Mad Scientist in his Lair,

How is that bruise on your shin? Would it like a twin?

We're nearly there, come out from underneath your science rock.

Just as she tapped send, the unmistakable sound of her favourite Tholian reached her ears. Without looking up, she greeted him, still moving forward. "Hello, Volskene." The sound of his scuttling grew as he caught up to her. "Is all calm in the Lattice? I'm going on a bit of a walk, join me."

[Naira]

[Mess Hall]
"The Tempest is in the middle of a refit, so my department has personnel to spare," Judy said, alluding to the fact that she wasn't just a science officer, but the chief science officer.
The process by which she selected the two officers to send was better left unmentioned. When asked initially for one, she chose Dihiq, to "let him spread his wings" (read: get him out of her hair). A week later, when she was asked for a second officer, she'd already allowed most of the decent candidates to take leave, so she had to do it herself. Explaining this would, however, probably make the presumed captain even less fond of her.

To the instruction, she responded rather positively. "I'll keep my ears open," she said.
This convinced Dihiq that she wasn't about to murder him for all the slander he'd dished over the past few minutes, and his posture visibly relaxed.
"I would add," she added, as Naira was fixing to leave, "that Cadet Dihiq seems to do well with technology, especially of the unfamiliar kind. I guess it's his agile young Cadet's mind."
She harkened back to the time-travel incident to pull out the only compliment for Dihiq that she could think of, and delivered that compliment as sincerely as she could. To be nice to an idiot like Dihiq was certainly not easy, but Judy thought she was doing a rather good job of it.

Again, Dihiq relaxed a little, as it became more and more evident that he was not about to be handbagged. Judy left the table for a moment, and then returned with a burger and fries. He could be seen tensing up a bit at the sound of her footsteps, and then relaxing when she didn't address him by name, but instead placed the fries towards the center of the table.
"This is far too much food for me. Help yourselves," she offered them to the group. It's not that Judy was a diet freak (she enjoyed quite a few treats, and balanced that out with a routine of exercise), but the burger was rather bigger than she thought it would be.

Dihiq, while initially hesitant, shotgunned another beer and then grabbed a fry. It tasted good, as if the witch had some dark magic touch that made food taste better.
"Thank you, ma'am," he said, at a tone that indicated the booze was now enough to overcome his fear of the wicked witch of the Eastman.
"You're welcome," Judy answered with a smile. She wasn't necessarily happy that Dihiq was happy per se (she hardly cared), but that he no longer looked scared of her.
Judy finally put down her handbag, and looked across the table at Aryn.
"Aryn, long time no see," she addressed the El-Aurian.

[Mess Hall]

"I'm glad to hear our request for assistance was not much of an inconvenience then." While the other officers began to dig into the fatty, greasy, fried food, Naira remained sitting where she was with a smile still upon her face. She never really understood the appeal of putting such things into her body. A nutritious blend of algae, fungi and simple proteins in the form of mass producing insects provided a healthier alternative. Blending it into a liquid state eliminated the need to devote substantial time in the day to eating, allowing the consumer to further get more done within a day. However, Humans in particular seemed to treat eating almost as a form of ritual, devoting much time and thought into not only what they felt like eating at any given time, but the act of eating itself, an act that for them consisted of not only consuming the food but socializing while doing so.

"I'll leave you to finish your meal," she said as she stood up and excused herself from the group.

[Mess Hall]

Volskene turned from the porthole as he sensed the nearly immediate silencing of the group. Though the Tholian didn't appear so, he was quite perceptive of the ebbs and flows of conversation (and lack thereof), a byproduct of his strongly communal species. He processed the scene slowly, before centering his eyespots on the source of the silence. That Orion, again.

It was ironic that she was one of the few species Volskene could recognize on sight (most humanoids looked the same), because the intense distrust he harbored matched his ability to perceive her species. Though he did not know her name, and had only met her a few times in passing, Volskene pondered how exactly such an individual had infiltrated the ranks of such an apparently prestigious organization as the Federation. Volskene had always had his doubts of these humanoids... even more so with allowing this alien's presence. Truthfully, the Tholian found it hard to take her words seriously as she spoke of the apparently illicit nature of their mission. At least until he heard mention of the Syndicate...

Volskene felt the PADD containing his subspace solutions slip from his claws, clattering to the ground with a rather unceremonious rattle. Streaks of rosy red and dull blue wove within him as he felt surprise, embarrassment, and then a slight upwell of rage within his thoughtspace. Of all the possibilities... the Syndicate's dealings were known well even in Tholian space. Their ships were simply fired upon if detected in Tholian space. His people had no patience for that sort of rabble. And neither did Volskene. As he crouched to retreive the PADD, he felt the red rage again, before he began to pace, back and forth, all six legs in a sort of strange state of constant flux. He tried to see if his contact, the Primary Medical Ruling Castemember, was anywhere in sight. Not spying her anywhere in the room, the Tholian exited the mess hall (nothing more to be done with these humanoids), venturing into the decrepit passageways of this scrap heap of a ship.

Her attention was drawn to the sound of a PADD dropping to the floor, but before she could walk over to ask the Tholian if there was something wrong, the specialist scurried out of the room in a hurry. He was a strange creature. However, knowing that Commander Ellis had managed to form some sort of connection to him reassured her, a little. She'd have to ask the commander later about the Tholian, but for now, she had other things to attend to.

She spared a smile for Commander Adeyemi and Petty Officer McDaniels as she passed their table and continued to walk.

[Mess Hall]

In a quiet corner, the latest Cadet assigned to the Columbus sat by himself. This was far from his first mission. But, it was his first official mission for Starfleet. Assigned to Operations on the station, Four of Twenty found it to be a rather cozy position to climb the ranks. His first mission being an opportunity to showcase the recommendations his instructors had written for him. To show why he was a member of the coveted Red Squad.

But, he would not let his ambitions override smart decisions. This wasn't the Romulan Star Empire. He would get nowhere by acting recklessly No. He had to play things smart. The Federation wished to work as a team. He would have to find a balance between the warrior he was within the Star Empire, and the drone he was within the Collective.

His thoughts drifted back to the Columbus. Being no longer integrated within the Collective, and with his homeworld of Romulus obliterated, the space station would have to suffice as his new home. As a Cadet, he wasn't given much information on the mission before they departed. He wasn't sure how long they would be gone. So, he put Spooky, his black cat, in a boarding house until he returned home. Admittedly, however, he found himself missing the creature. Strange to think he could begin to get so attached so quickly.

His thoughts were distracted as the Captain spoke up. Black eyes focused on her as a finger rested on a bit of cybernetics that circled around his left eye. A rather serious expression crossed his face, his brain beginning to run through the possible scenarios. An arms dealer with knowledge of starship positions? Thi was a rather troubling ordeal.

If he had sensitive material, it meant that he somehow had access to classified files. Perhaps he was an officer that had played double agent. Or had gained the information through thievery, extortion, or straight up torture. The fact that this dealer was to be apprehended spoke greatly towards the knowledge that they held.

Or it spoke on the Federation's soft attitude towards their secrets leaving their borders.

Had this been a Romulan affair, the Tal Shiar would have certainly been handling it instead of the military. The arms dealer would have been eliminated, as would anyone associated with them, including potential buyers. But, that sort of Scorched Earth policy was what made the Tal Shiar the proverbial boogeymen both within and outside of the influence of the Star Empire.

As the Captain began to make her rounds, speaking with the various officers and crew members assembled, Four shifted back in his seat. He took a sip of his iced green tea as he closed his eyes. This sort of mission was clandestine, something dangerous. Everyone here probably hoped that things wouldn't turn ugly, but he knew there was a good chance it would.

Dressed in fine Romulan silks, he looked the part of a seedy individual who would be interested in purchasing dangerous weapons. What the Syndicate just might discover was that he was a dangerous weapon. Under his jacket, two curved blades rested in holsters, pressed against his lower back. Comfort combat grips. An edge that was a few micrometers in thickness. These blades could cut through flesh like a hot knife through butter with the slightest of pressure.

Of course, he would refrain from drawing them unless he or one of his crewmates were in danger. Romulans weren't violent creatures, like Klingons. No. Romulans were apex predators, but played moreso as opportunists. The point was to capture this arms dealer without a drop of blood being spilled. It was best to plan along these mission perimeters.

However, one always had to have backup plans in case the original plan fell apart.

In the very back of the room, the newest member of the Columbus crew sat all alone. She had yet to formally introduce herself to the liberated Borg. In fact, she wouldn't be surprised if most of the crew had been avoiding the man up until this point. Wile he was no longer a part of the Collective, he still bore some visible implants from his time as a drone, serving as a warning and reminder of why the Borg were feared across the quadrants.

However, she had to remind herself that under those cybernetics was still a man, a man who never chose that life for himself. He needed a chance to prove himself, to reclaim his humanity, and if the crew was going to learn to accept him as one of their own and learn to trust him, she needed to help him to feel welcome.

"I'm glad to see you're here. We haven't seen much of you this trip. Do you mind if I sit for a moment?"

[Volskene]

Just as she tapped send, the unmistakable sound of her favourite Tholian reached her ears. Without looking up, she greeted him, still moving forward. "Hello, Volskene." The sound of his scuttling grew as he caught up to her. "Is all calm in the Lattice? I'm going on a bit of a walk, join me."

[Passageways - Red Phoenix]

The Tholian nearly toppled over his jumbled legs as he screeched to a halt at the unmistakable greeting. His thoughtspace continued to roil momentarily before finding balance once more. Volskene turned to face the voice's owner, and...

Having been among humanoids for some time now, Volskene had seen all of the absurd, inane, and otherwise ridiculous manners in which humanoids clad themselves, but this... it took a certain time period to elapse before the Tholian finally reconciled that he was not being deceived, and was indeed conversing with the Primary Medical Ruling Castemember. He would follow along, albeit cautiously, and his conversation as as brief and direct as usual.

"Speak. What is the purpose of this mission?"

[Aryn Corliss]

[Mess Hall]
"The Tempest is in the middle of a refit, so my department has personnel to spare," Judy said, alluding to the fact that she wasn't just a science officer, but the chief science officer.
The process by which she selected the two officers to send was better left unmentioned. When asked initially for one, she chose Dihiq, to "let him spread his wings" (read: get him out of her hair). A week later, when she was asked for a second officer, she'd already allowed most of the decent candidates to take leave, so she had to do it herself. Explaining this would, however, probably make the presumed captain even less fond of her.

To the instruction, she responded rather positively. "I'll keep my ears open," she said.
This convinced Dihiq that she wasn't about to murder him for all the slander he'd dished over the past few minutes, and his posture visibly relaxed.
"I would add," she added, as Naira was fixing to leave, "that Cadet Dihiq seems to do well with technology, especially of the unfamiliar kind. I guess it's his agile young Cadet's mind."
She harkened back to the time-travel incident to pull out the only compliment for Dihiq that she could think of, and delivered that compliment as sincerely as she could. To be nice to an idiot like Dihiq was certainly not easy, but Judy thought she was doing a rather good job of it.

Again, Dihiq relaxed a little, as it became more and more evident that he was not about to be handbagged. Judy left the table for a moment, and then returned with a burger and fries. He could be seen tensing up a bit at the sound of her footsteps, and then relaxing when she didn't address him by name, but instead placed the fries towards the center of the table.
"This is far too much food for me. Help yourselves," she offered them to the group. It's not that Judy was a diet freak (she enjoyed quite a few treats, and balanced that out with a routine of exercise), but the burger was rather bigger than she thought it would be.

Dihiq, while initially hesitant, shotgunned another beer and then grabbed a fry. It tasted good, as if the witch had some dark magic touch that made food taste better.
"Thank you, ma'am," he said, at a tone that indicated the booze was now enough to overcome his fear of the wicked witch of the Eastman.
"You're welcome," Judy answered with a smile. She wasn't necessarily happy that Dihiq was happy per se (she hardly cared), but that he no longer looked scared of her.
Judy finally put down her handbag, and looked across the table at Aryn.
"Aryn, long time no see," she addressed the El-Aurian.

[Red Phoenix - Mess Hall]

Initially when the Klingon cadet had referred to Judy as the 'wicked witch of the Eastman' (in spite of the clever word play), Aryn felt the need to say something to him about showing respect for fellow officers, whether one liked them or not. However, when the person in question made her sneaky appearance and she saw how nervous she made Dihiq, Aryn held her tongue.

She let the conversation flow around her, while eating her serving of most excellent meatloaf, until Judy addressed her directly.

It's good to see you, Judy. Happy to have you along.

And this is my husband, Dr. Alec Trenzal.

Alec, I told you about Judy. We met on that diplomatic mission to the Delta Quadrant.

Yes, I remember. A linguist, as was just confirmed. Nice to meet you. Alec offered a hand across the table and a friendly smile.

[Felicity Ellis]

[Passageways - Red Phoenix]

The Tholian nearly toppled over his jumbled legs as he screeched to a halt at the unmistakable greeting. His thoughtspace continued to roil momentarily before finding balance once more. Volskene turned to face the voice's owner, and...

Having been among humanoids for some time now, Volskene had seen all of the absurd, inane, and otherwise ridiculous manners in which humanoids clad themselves, but this... it took a certain time period to elapse before the Tholian finally reconciled that he was not being deceived, and was indeed conversing with the Primary Medical Ruling Castemember. He would follow along, albeit cautiously, and his conversation as as brief and direct as usual.

"Speak. What is the purpose of this mission?"

[Passageways - Red Phoenix]

Felicity gave no discernible reaction to Volskene's appearance, nor to his distinct lack of manners when he addressed her. She continued down the corridor with barely a glance in the Tholian's direction when she gave her initial response.

"It is as the Captain has outlined. There is a criminal at this resort who wants to sell weapons and information that we do not want sold."

She walked a few more steps before they encountered a sharp bend in the passageway. That's where she stopped and turned to face the suited alien. "Now, Specialist, you've been with us for what, four, five months at this stage?" She raised a brow as she peered through the transparent portion of his helmet, directly at his eerily glowing eyespots. "You know the price for my answers. I realise you consider it to be a useless humanoid exercise, and I won't argue with you, but I still expect even the pretense of common courtesy."

Felicity waved a hand as she turned and continued on their little jaunt, the gesture almost dismissive as she added, "The odd please and thank you, Vol. It won't kill you."

[Judith Eastman]

[Red Phoenix - Mess Hall]

Initially when the Klingon cadet had referred to Judy as the 'wicked witch of the Eastman' (in spite of the clever word play), Aryn felt the need to say something to him about showing respect for fellow officers, whether one liked them or not. However, when the person in question made her sneaky appearance and she saw how nervous she made Dihiq, Aryn held her tongue.

She let the conversation flow around her, while eating her serving of most excellent meatloaf, until Judy addressed her directly.

It's good to see you, Judy. Happy to have you along.

And this is my husband, Dr. Alec Trenzal.

Alec, I told you about Judy. We met on that diplomatic mission to the Delta Quadrant.

Yes, I remember. A linguist, as was just confirmed. Nice to meet you. Alec offered a hand across the table and a friendly smile.

[Mess Hall]

"A linguist in only the broadest of senses," Judy quipped. "I spend so much time managing my department, that I hardly have time for my own affairs. And in several months, when I take up grandparenting, I doubt I'll have any time to do worthwhile research at all."
Judy smiled as she imagined herself as a grandmother. It was still in the distant horizon, and she'd left before having the chance to even tell Saya, but the thought made her giddy with excitement.
Dihiq smiled too. He had a feeling the witch as a grandmother would be too busy with that to belittle him.

Red Phoenix - Mess Hall of Social Anxiety

When the Witch offered her food, Odelot felt very bad about not offering her the last of his.

...But not so bad that he didn't grab a fistful of the offered fries from her plate.  These fries looked really good because they had some of the peel on them.   His Mom said one time that the peel had the good stuff in it.  And it was brown.

"We can be fry friends?" he asked the question hopefully, but wondered if his selfishness earlier had ruined things between them.

He hoped not.   Having a Witch as a friend seemed to be about the best thing he could think of right now.

Odelot glanced to Dihiq, who had also taken a fry, and hoped that he might use that fact as additional friendship paste.

"Dihiq and Odelot and the Magic Witch?"

"Certainly!" Judy exclaimed. Especially now that she was in expectant grandma mode, she found the Pakled to be adorable in his childlike ways. "Just please, call me Judy. Friends don't call friends by clunky titles."

"Really magical, isn't she?" Dihiq asked Odelot with a thin note of sarcasm that, to a keen observer of the human mannerisms that the Klingon had spent his whole life imitating, made clear that he and the witch weren't friends in any sense of the word.

Judy, meanwhile, reoriented herself back to Aryn and Alec. She didn't seem to recall Aryn mentioning a husband before.
"So, I'm guessing things have happened since we last met," she said. Her eyes made it clear that this was a very roundabout way of asking about the hubby.

Judy took her evening meds, bit into the burger, and listened for one or both of the Listeners to answer.

[Four of Twenty]

In the very back of the room, the newest member of the Columbus crew sat all alone. She had yet to formally introduce herself to the liberated Borg. In fact, she wouldn't be surprised if most of the crew had been avoiding the man up until this point. Wile he was no longer a part of the Collective, he still bore some visible implants from his time as a drone, serving as a warning and reminder of why the Borg were feared across the quadrants.

However, she had to remind herself that under those cybernetics was still a man, a man who never chose that life for himself. He needed a chance to prove himself, to reclaim his humanity, and if the crew was going to learn to accept him as one of their own and learn to trust him, she needed to help him to feel welcome.

"I'm glad to see you're here. We haven't seen much of you this trip. Do you mind if I sit for a moment?"

She was correct in her assumption. No one had introduced themselves to him yet. But, years at the Academy had conditioned him to accept the isolation. The stares. The hushed whispers. Truth be told, he didn't blame them. Had things gone differently for him, and he was still with the Empire, he would have looked at them all with extreme prejudice as well.

The Federation's limited knowledge on Romulan physiology mixed with decades spent as a drone meant that a majority of the implants were left in him. The risk on his life too great to remove them. When it was all said and done, he was capable of life outside of the Collective. He was capable of becoming an individual once more.

It had taken him years to rediscover the proud Romulan that once was. His white hair eventually regained its black sheen. His lifeless, gray right eye found its fire. Its black hue over time. Red Squad helped him find himself once more above all others. His instructors and fellow cadets pushed him to new levels. Re-ignited the ambition that was once silenced by a trillion voices speaking in unison.

When the Captain approached his table, he quickly stood at attention. The movements were fluid, reflexes sharpened over millions of years from his feline ancestors. The common ancestor all Romulan and Vulcan shared. His heels clicked together, giving her a rigid salute. "Captain Naira. I'm honored to have been selected for this mission." He didn't know much about his commanding officer, actually. He felt any research into her would give him preconceived notions. No. It was always best for assessments to be made organically.

Besides, being on a mission with her would give him a rather good insight into her. "Forgive me, Captain. I didn't think that my absence would go noticed. I hope you did not perceive it as an insult to you or your crew. It is my first mission within the Federation. I wanted to be sure my appearance would showcase how seriously I take my assigned duties under Lieutenant Corliss, and ultimately you as well."

He motioned for her to join him, his hands going back behind his back after the brief gesture. "It would be an honor for you to join me, Captain." He still stood at attention, not wanting to sit back down until instructed to do so by his superior officer. Before his time as a drone, he was a well decorated officer. He had held audiences with both the Senate as well as the Praetor herself.

This was far from his first time addressing someone who's rank was many great leaps beyond his own. But, that was many decades ago. That Romulan officer was long dead. This Cadet was no longer a weapon of the Romulan Star Empire. Nor for the Borg Collective. He was a weapon for the Federation. A weapon for the Columbus and her Captain.

[Volskene]

[Passageways - Red Phoenix]

Felicity gave no discernible reaction to Volskene's appearance, nor to his distinct lack of manners when he addressed her. She continued down the corridor with barely a glance in the Tholian's direction when she gave her initial response.

"It is as the Captain has outlined. There is a criminal at this resort who wants to sell weapons and information that we do not want sold."

She walked a few more steps before they encountered a sharp bend in the passageway. That's where she stopped and turned to face the suited alien. "Now, Specialist, you've been with us for what, four, five months at this stage?" She raised a brow as she peered through the transparent portion of his helmet, directly at his eerily glowing eyespots. "You know the price for my answers. I realise you consider it to be a useless humanoid exercise, and I won't argue with you, but I still expect even the pretense of common courtesy."

Felicity waved a hand as she turned and continued on their little jaunt, the gesture almost dismissive as she added, "The odd please and thank you, Vol. It won't kill you."

[Passageways - Red Phoenix]

As they continued, Volskene let the Primary Medical Ruling Castemember's summation of the briefing weave through him. Indeed, she had corroborated everything that the supposedly deceptive Orion had said. Though he still couldn't rule out the idea of a vast conspiracy, the Tholian had to admit that, as a scientist, it was significantly more likely that everyone was who they said they were. And so his (re)recognition of his contact was fully realized; that personality could only come from one humanoid.

His rebuttal was flat, but without malice, as the Tholian explained himself further, "I must admit you were not recognizable initially, owing to the aberrant nature of this operation. Your humanoid customs continue to mystify me, even as your so-called 'months' pass. They are not.. familiar, even now." Volskene let his thoughtspace drift back to Tholia and his people momentarily, remembering yet how far away he was.

[Lyric McDaniels]

[Mess Hall - Red Phoenix]

Adeyemi looked up, a piece of tuna speared on the end of a knife. He immediately rose, ever the consummate, old fashioned gentleman.

"Please, sit...Lyric." He said. He had been about to call her Miss McDaniels, but he recalled how his being formal made her uncomfortable. And right now she didn't look like she needed any more of that.

She did look like she needed a hug, though. Lyric was short but had a sublime body, large eyes, long hair, and full lips. She was very pale. As he always did, Adeyemi arrested the more primitive urges he experienced when he laid eyes on Crewman McDaniels. A lustful thought was just as much as a sin as a lustful act.

"How are you liking the journey thus far, Lyric?" Adeyemi asked. Pieter was all about burning clean, and had included a large portion of tuna fish with curry mayonnaise on his tray. The security chief dug into the cold server fish and covertly studied the Changeling's astonishing dark eyes as he did so.

[Red Phoenix - Mess Hall]

Lyric slid into the chair fluidly, some of the tension in her body leaving with an audible, but small sigh. She wasn't sure exactly how to explain her misgivings about her assignment to this mission. It was probable that he would shrug off her concerns as complaints and give her a line about how she was supposed to do her duty. However once she started talking, the words just seemed to tumble out.

"Thank you, Malcolm. I do not think this is meant to be a trip for enjoyment. However the engine room on this ship is nice, and the chief engineer is also very nice." The Changeling hid her hands inside her long sleeves, but looked down on them, lightly placed on the table top. "I think my being here is a mistake. I am not good at lying and being... sneaky."

There, she said it. On the one hand, it felt a little better to have it off of her chest, but on the other, Lyric felt almost certain he'd judge her for it. A part of her desperately wanted his approval, but other than a few rare occurrences, Adeyemi usually seemed to keep her at arms-length, looking down his nose at her. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Also... I think I may be dressed wrong." She raised her head then, and it was easy to follow her green eyed gaze to several various female crew members. "Nearly everyone else seems to be dressed fancier... with... less clothing? I don't think I can do that." She made a small squeak like a whimper, clearly distressed at the concept.

[Naira]

She was correct in her assumption. No one had introduced themselves to him yet. But, years at the Academy had conditioned him to accept the isolation. The stares. The hushed whispers. Truth be told, he didn't blame them. Had things gone differently for him, and he was still with the Empire, he would have looked at them all with extreme prejudice as well.

The Federation's limited knowledge on Romulan physiology mixed with decades spent as a drone meant that a majority of the implants were left in him. The risk on his life too great to remove them. When it was all said and done, he was capable of life outside of the Collective. He was capable of becoming an individual once more.

It had taken him years to rediscover the proud Romulan that once was. His white hair eventually regained its black sheen. His lifeless, gray right eye found its fire. Its black hue over time. Red Squad helped him find himself once more above all others. His instructors and fellow cadets pushed him to new levels. Re-ignited the ambition that was once silenced by a trillion voices speaking in unison.

When the Captain approached his table, he quickly stood at attention. The movements were fluid, reflexes sharpened over millions of years from his feline ancestors. The common ancestor all Romulan and Vulcan shared. His heels clicked together, giving her a rigid salute. "Captain Naira. I'm honored to have been selected for this mission." He didn't know much about his commanding officer, actually. He felt any research into her would give him preconceived notions. No. It was always best for assessments to be made organically.

Besides, being on a mission with her would give him a rather good insight into her. "Forgive me, Captain. I didn't think that my absence would go noticed. I hope you did not perceive it as an insult to you or your crew. It is my first mission within the Federation. I wanted to be sure my appearance would showcase how seriously I take my assigned duties under Lieutenant Corliss, and ultimately you as well."

He motioned for her to join him, his hands going back behind his back after the brief gesture. "It would be an honor for you to join me, Captain." He still stood at attention, not wanting to sit back down until instructed to do so by his superior officer. Before his time as a drone, he was a well decorated officer. He had held audiences with both the Senate as well as the Praetor herself.

This was far from his first time addressing someone who's rank was many great leaps beyond his own. But, that was many decades ago. That Romulan officer was long dead. This Cadet was no longer a weapon of the Romulan Star Empire. Nor for the Borg Collective. He was a weapon for the Federation. A weapon for the Columbus and her Captain.

[Mess Hall]

Naira had not been expecting the man to stand and salute her, but she guessed that she should have known better in her assumption. If nothing else, Romulans were well known for their strict adherence to protocol. It was likely drilled into him from an early age, only to be reinforced by the Collective. However, Naira didn't see a need for such formalities in such a situation. There was a time and place for everything, but sitting in a mess hall, aboard a civilian freighter, while wearing what she had hoped to never be seen in outside her private quarters, was not one of those time.

"There's no need for such formalities right now, please sit."

Understanding that he very well may choose to stand until she, herself sat, a sign of respect that she had herself followed when she was a junior officer, she sat down first. She hoped that with further getting to know the man that in time he might learn to relax a little. Unlike the majority of the ships and some of the smaller outposts within the fleet, Columbus tended to be far more lax in their proceedings, but they had to be. The majority of those living and working aboard the station were not in fact Starfleet officers and crewmen. Starfleet may have ran the station, but it was the civilian population that helped it thrive. It also meant that they had to be the ones to bend a little when it came to working with those not trained in proper procedure and protocols.

"I did not perceive your absence as an insult, but rather I assumed you might be distancing yourself from the rest of the crew. I won't pretend as if there isn't some level of unease among the crew about having a former Borg and Romulan living and working alongside them, but I'm hoping that with some work we might be able to put those fears to rest."

After finding herself staring into his cybernetic eye, she smiled at him.

"I don't doubt that you will take this mission very seriously. I'm sure you of all people understand the full extent of what can happen when powerful weapons fall into the wrong hands. I trust that we'll be able to count on you and your skills this mission."

[Four of Twenty]

[Mess Hall]

Naira had not been expecting the man to stand and salute her, but she guessed that she should have known better in her assumption. If nothing else, Romulans were well known for their strict adherence to protocol. It was likely drilled into him from an early age, only to be reinforced by the Collective. However, Naira didn't see a need for such formalities in such a situation. There was a time and place for everything, but sitting in a mess hall, aboard a civilian freighter, while wearing what she had hoped to never be seen in outside her private quarters, was not one of those time.

"There's no need for such formalities right now, please sit."

Understanding that he very well may choose to stand until she, herself sat, a sign of respect that she had herself followed when she was a junior officer, she sat down first. She hoped that with further getting to know the man that in time he might learn to relax a little. Unlike the majority of the ships and some of the smaller outposts within the fleet, Columbus tended to be far more lax in their proceedings, but they had to be. The majority of those living and working aboard the station were not in fact Starfleet officers and crewmen. Starfleet may have ran the station, but it was the civilian population that helped it thrive. It also meant that they had to be the ones to bend a little when it came to working with those not trained in proper procedure and protocols.

"I did not perceive your absence as an insult, but rather I assumed you might be distancing yourself from the rest of the crew. I won't pretend as if there isn't some level of unease among the crew about having a former Borg and Romulan living and working alongside them, but I'm hoping that with some work we might be able to put those fears to rest."

After finding herself staring into his cybernetic eye, she smiled at him.

"I don't doubt that you will take this mission very seriously. I'm sure you of all people understand the full extent of what can happen when powerful weapons fall into the wrong hands. I trust that we'll be able to count on you and your skills this mission."

[Mess Hall]

"Thank you, Captain." he said, sitting back down after she had taken her seat. Protocol was everything onboard a Romulan ship. The slightest perceived insult could end up putting great shame on your family's house, or get you tossed out of an airlock. Sometimes both. Mix that with the fact that anyone could be a secret Tal Shiar agent, and you had an environment that nurtured the cunning and loyal.

She certainly didn't beat around the bush, nor did she seem to want to sugarcoat things for him. He liked that. "It's an understandable unease, Captain. Nothing I haven't dealt with at the Academy. I knew what I would be walking into when I elected to stay within the Federation. The entirety of my house was lost when Romulus was destroyed...

His voice trailed off as he looked down at the table. Before he started the Academy, his skin was etched with the ceremonial markings. The designs were physical representations of his mourning. He was a man without a home. Without a nation.

"The Federation gave me my life back, so it only seemed right to join Starfleet." By the time he had graduated from the Academy, the markings were all but gone. Small shadows of a few designs could be seen on his olive skin, but they were easy to miss unless you had an observant eye. Wait. Did she say we?

"Yes, of course. I look forward to it, Captain. If there would be two things I value more than all else, it would be exceeding expectations and proving people wrong." She smiled at him, and he returned the gesture. This was an experienced Starfleet officer. She could help give him insight on how to truly exceed within the Federation.

"Yes, I'm well aware of the potential dangers. There are some weapons that only the military should be able to use. Others still that no one should have access to." He crossed one leg over the other, straightening his slacks in the process. His gaze crept down to his shoes for a minute, catching his reflection in the shine. His attention turned back to the Captain, giving her a reassuring smirk.

"I endeavor to be everything needed, and to exceed beyond that point."

[Odelot]

Red Phoenix - Mess Hall

Odelot chewed with much greater certainty, satisfaction, and glee now that he and the Witch were friends.  Everything was always better when people were friends.  Especially on a small ship like this.  Or the Yadyam.

"Okay, Judy," Odelot agreed.  Then he nodded to Dihiq after glancing around, "Yes!  Joy is still gone."

Presumably, the missing woman would appear at the conclusion of the magic show.

Though, even without the ability to make people vanish, Judy was a magical friend because she ordered lots of fries and then gave them all away.  It reminded Odelot of a story he'd heard on Mars from a human roommate.  It was a story about a wizard who made enough bread and fish for a whole crowd to eat.  There were other magic tricks, but that was the wizard's best magic trick.

And that included coming back from the dead after being nailed to a piece of wood and being thrown in a cave.  Some magic tricks were just too hard to bother with.

There was a very subtle shift in the vibrations coming up from the deck plates.

"We were going fast," Odelot declared, "But now we are going slow."

It was Pakled small talk.  Like discussing the weather.

[Felicity Ellis]

[Passageways - Red Phoenix]

As they continued, Volskene let the Primary Medical Ruling Castemember's summation of the briefing weave through him. Indeed, she had corroborated everything that the supposedly deceptive Orion had said. Though he still couldn't rule out the idea of a vast conspiracy, the Tholian had to admit that, as a scientist, it was significantly more likely that everyone was who they said they were. And so his (re)recognition of his contact was fully realized; that personality could only come from one humanoid.

His rebuttal was flat, but without malice, as the Tholian explained himself further, "I must admit you were not recognizable initially, owing to the aberrant nature of this operation. Your humanoid customs continue to mystify me, even as your so-called 'months' pass. They are not.. familiar, even now." Volskene let his thoughtspace drift back to Tholia and his people momentarily, remembering yet how far away he was.

[Passageways - Red Phoenix]

"I know." Felicity suppressed a sigh as they approached the quarters the crew had been assigned, their footfalls making entirely different sounds as they echoed off the corridor walls. Sometimes she felt as though she'd made progress with Volskene, only to receive a quick, and complete reminder of just how dissimilar the two were.

She stopped at the locked door of one of two communal sleeping areas, and leaned on the bulkhead outside, her hand poised over the keypad. "Do you recall when you found out that I was no longer Primary Medical Castemember?" She was sure he would, it had taken him hours to 'reboot' after that news. "You didn't understand it, you weren't familiar with it, but you eventually accepted it, and somehow managed to combine my two titles into one." She tapped the code into the panel and the doors slid open to reveal nobody inside. She wasn't all that surprised; everyone was supposed to be in the Mess Hall. She leaned through the doorway and gave the room another quick scan just to be on the safe side. "In fact, what you call me now describes what I do much better than my current title." A huge part of Felicity would always belong with the Medical department, she thought, no matter the level she climbed to.

"You've told me about your Lattice, about how you live on Tholia. I could never be familiar with any of those experiences, but I can accept their existence, and by extension, respect the concept."

She pulled back and allowed the doors to close before moving on to the next room and repeating her search.