S3:M1- Fertility is Merely a Nuisance

[Michael Ferdinand]

Captain's Log Stardate 73545.8:
It's been a few days since I have assumed Command of the Shran. Her crew seems competent, but I can't help but feel there is something bothering them as a collective deep inside. I have read about their former Commanding Officer, one Alyssa Meadows, and it shocks me that someone like her could have ever garnered a psych ward, much less command of a starship. I hope the change will be something positive for the crew, but the biggest thing they will need to remember is that to be strong, one must earn their keep.

End log.

[Captain's Quarters, Day 1, 0625]
"The time is now 0625." The cool voice of the computer had been announcing the time for the past twenty-five minutes. Michael was still in bed, struggling to keep his eyes open as the call of slumber tried so desperately to pull them closed. Though the previous night had not been difficult, it had been long. He had burnt the midnight oil examining the official ship's logs, minus the personal ones, to get a better understanding of what the crew had been through: Parties, dinosaurs, a malfunctioning holodeck, and genocide. From reading this, Michael had felt he better understood why he had been brought here.

"The time is now 0630." 0630? How had time passed by so quickly? His hands met his face and he rubbed it for a solid second-- or had it been another five minutes-- before letting out a sigh and throwing the covers off of him. His bare feet touched the ground of the carpet with a silent thud. The carpet was flat, plushless, but it did not give the Captain any resistance as he dragged his feet to the bathroom to prepare for the day.

[Bridge, Day 1, 0700]
He was an hour early to the party. Stepping off the turbolift, he was looked at with a bit of confusion before the confusion was replaced with nothing but obedience.

"Good morning." Michael said as he took his chair on the bridge. He noted the scratch marks still on the chair and frowned. It seemed like Engineering had not had time to repair the damage that his predecessor had left behind. No matter. It wasn't his #1 priority at the moment.

[Kachina Filitov]

Holodeck One - 0700

Katcha had just finished her morning workout by running her Krav Maga sparing program. As far as she was aware, no-one else on board practised that particular form of martial arts so she was forced to use the holodecks.

Having finished by beating a level 14 opponent, she picked up her towel and dried herself off before taking a long drink of water from the bottle she had brought with her.

"Computer. Doors!" She ordered.

There was a beep and the holodeck doors appeared. Immediately she began waling towards them.

"Computer. End program!" She said as she reached the doors.

There was a beep and the training dojo disappeared leaving the black and yellow walls. As she reached the doors, they opened and she exited, heading back to her quarters.

Mess Hall

After a shower and dressing in her uniform, Kacha made her way to the mess hall for breakfast before going on duty. Going over to the replicator she debated on what to have for a few seconds before making her mind up.

"3 rashers of grilled, smoked back bacon, 3 grilled Lincolnshire sausages, three poached eggs, two grilled tomatoes cut in half, grilled mushrooms, a rack of wholemeal toast and a pot of Russian tea." She ordered.

Seconds later her breakfast had materialised. Picking up the tray, she went over to an empty table and sat down. Pouring a mug of tea, she took a sip before starting on the food.

[Mondo'li Nari]

USS Shran, Mess Hall

Mondo was already seated in the mess hall when Katcha arrived.   Although it had been several days since the end of their last mission, the shadow of events still fell upon him.  He gazed down at his plate, filled with Tupis salad and Felwil meat cuts, drizzled with Nootberry dressing.   It was his favorite.  And yet he stared at it, his fork hovering un-used, as he brooded on recent events.

He'd thought that the alien life forms had been completely noncorporeal, but that had been proven to be incorrect.  They did leave something of themselves behind.  Hundreds of corpses had littered the ship, like aerogel constructs.  Many had been crushed or reduced to dust.  They'd been the final, sad scraps of an entire race of people.  A people who had escaped genocide by the Borg only to be wiped out on the Shran.

And of course, someone had to clean it all up.  That wasn't a job given to officers.  It was a job given to the enlisted crew.  He'd collected dozens of the bodies, swept up uncounted piles of alien ash.  All of it zipped into Biohazard bags, with the surrounding area sanitized.  Had the ship's systems been working well, it might have been accomplished with transporters, but that was not the case.  All the cleanup had been done by hand.  All of the remains would be reviewed as evidence, and used to further the Federation's scientific inquiry into alien biologies.

There had been a brief visit from Temporal Investigations, but they seemed more concerned with changes to the past than incursions from the future.  Perhaps they had a future counterpart agency that was meant to investigate such things.  If so, their future selves had failed in their duty.   The Shran should theoretically never have had to deal with time travelers.  But then, who knew why some temporal violations were stopped while others were allowed to occur?  Who knew what the vagaries of time policing might entail?   It was all beyond his understanding.

But he understood what it meant for the last of a people to die.

He understood what it meant for his own hand to have been directly involved in the massacre.

Glancing up as Lieutenant Filitov arrived, he regarded her with sad, tired eyes.   Sleep had often proved elusive for the tall Hupyrian.  Sometimes he wanted to cry, but could not find the tears.

"Good Morning, Lieutenant," he offered, the words a matter of courtesy more than genuine enthusiasm for the day.

[Djann Tempest]

[ USS Shran - Tempest's Quarters ]

The 0530 alarm reverberated in his head, Djann flailed to acknowledge that he was indeed awake. He had slept hard which seemed to be a surprise to the counselors he had spoken to after the Keer incident concluded. He had killed a fellow crewman, albeit one that was inhabited by an alien. But he had merely done his duty like he had for other Commanders and for other crews. I must truly be desensitized now. Although I guess as a scientist I could consider it unbiased... he turned over in his mind as he dressed in a fresh uniform.

Let my thoughts settle on the duty of the day he affirmed as the doors opened and he stepped into the corridor.

[ USS Shran - Bridge ]

Tempest's morning workout had been refreshing and invigorated him for the day. He had arrived a few minutes early to bridge and was surprised to see their new Captain early for Alpha shift as well. After conferring with his junior officer at the Science station and relieving her, he made his way to greet the Captain. Djann had seen him in the hall and read his service record but had yet to introduce himself. Standing at attention he offered his natural hand.

"Captain, Lt. Tempest. I look forward to serving you sir. If you would like to review Science's departmental policy, I'm at your disposal. I would also like to brief you on several active research projects that are running on the Shran when you have the time. Nothing turning the galaxy inside out this week but may be prudent to be aware of."

Djann had offered an amiable grin at the exaggeration but was now thinking it may have not been inaccurate in some circumstances.

[Kachina Filitov]

USS Shran, Mess Hall

Mondo was already seated in the mess hall when Katcha arrived.   Although it had been several days since the end of their last mission, the shadow of events still fell upon him.  He gazed down at his plate, filled with Tupis salad and Felwil meat cuts, drizzled with Nootberry dressing.   It was his favorite.  And yet he stared at it, his fork hovering un-used, as he brooded on recent events.

He'd thought that the alien life forms had been completely noncorporeal, but that had been proven to be incorrect.  They did leave something of themselves behind.  Hundreds of corpses had littered the ship, like aerogel constructs.  Many had been crushed or reduced to dust.  They'd been the final, sad scraps of an entire race of people.  A people who had escaped genocide by the Borg only to be wiped out on the Shran.

And of course, someone had to clean it all up.  That wasn't a job given to officers.  It was a job given to the enlisted crew.  He'd collected dozens of the bodies, swept up uncounted piles of alien ash.  All of it zipped into Biohazard bags, with the surrounding area sanitized.  Had the ship's systems been working well, it might have been accomplished with transporters, but that was not the case.  All the cleanup had been done by hand.  All of the remains would be reviewed as evidence, and used to further the Federation's scientific inquiry into alien biologies.

There had been a brief visit from Temporal Investigations, but they seemed more concerned with changes to the past than incursions from the future.  Perhaps they had a future counterpart agency that was meant to investigate such things.  If so, their future selves had failed in their duty.   The Shran should theoretically never have had to deal with time travelers.  But then, who knew why some temporal violations were stopped while others were allowed to occur?  Who knew what the vagaries of time policing might entail?   It was all beyond his understanding.

But he understood what it meant for the last of a people to die.

He understood what it meant for his own hand to have been directly involved in the massacre.

Glancing up as Lieutenant Filitov arrived, he regarded her with sad, tired eyes.   Sleep had often proved elusive for the tall Hupyrian.  Sometimes he wanted to cry, but could not find the tears.

"Good Morning, Lieutenant," he offered, the words a matter of courtesy more than genuine enthusiasm for the day.

Mess Hall

Katcha looked up from her meal at the introduction. She recognised the crewman, but did not know his name as he was not in her department. She could tell he was being polite rather than actually being happy, so she returned the favour.

"Da it is. God morning to yourself too!" She replied, giving him a nod before taking another swig of tea.

She took another mouthful of food, taking care to chew and swallow before adding.

"Have you met our new Keptin yet?" She enquired, not having met the man herself as she had not had Bridge duty since he came aboard.

[Michael Ferdinand]

[Bridge]
Eyes closed, almost as if trying to capture the few minutes of sleep he had sacrificed in order to get to the bridge on time, Michael let out a quiet exhale as Tempest addressed him. It seemed like Iike he hadn't been in his seat for five minutes.  Could they not give him a moment of reprieve? Michael wanted to defer the CSO's suggested action to his new XO, hoping she would take more interest than he could possibly feign this early in the morning, but it seemed she was not ready to work yet. It wasn't that he disliked the science department or what it did, he was just a bit too groggy to care. He gently rubbed the scratch marks on the chair's arm rests with his fingers. Perhaps his predecessor's aggression wasn't unwarranted.

Michael opened his eyes, revealing his previously hidden steel blue irises. He firmly took his science officer's hand. His grip on the Lieutenant's hand was tight, almost crushing, but Michael wanted to firmly establish that he was the dominant one in this relationship. He gave it one definitive shake before releasing his grip. Letting go, he noted the man's other hand, and though a series of questions, and judgements formed in his mind, he pushed them to the back of his head.

"I'm Captain Ferdinand." he said, early morning grog still in his voice. "Please, I have time now. Why don't you take a seat in Commander Garrison's chair? I'm sure she won't mind."

[Djann Tempest]

[Bridge]
Eyes closed, almost as if trying to capture the few minutes of sleep he had sacrificed in order to get to the bridge on time, Michael let out a quiet exhale as Tempest addressed him. It seemed like Iike he hadn't been in his seat for five minutes.  Could they not give him a moment of reprieve? Michael wanted to defer the CSO's suggested action to his new XO, hoping she would take more interest than he could possibly feign this early in the morning, but it seemed she was not ready to work yet. It wasn't that he disliked the science department or what it did, he was just a bit too groggy to care. He gently rubbed the scratch marks on the chair's arm rests with his fingers. Perhaps his predecessor's aggression wasn't unwarranted.

Michael opened his eyes, revealing his previously hidden steel blue irises. He firmly took his science officer's hand. His grip on the Lieutenant's hand was tight, almost crushing, but Michael wanted to firmly establish that he was the dominant one in this relationship. He gave it one definitive shake before releasing his grip. Letting go, he noted the man's other hand, and though a series of questions, and judgements formed in his mind, he pushed them to the back of his head.

"I'm Captain Ferdinand." he said, early morning grog still in his voice. "Please, I have time now. Why don't you take a seat in Commander Garrison's chair? I'm sure she won't mind."

[ USS Shran - Bridge ]

Taking the offer from the Captain, Tempest sat down in the auxiliary command chair. He resisted the urge to flex his hand after the Captain's hefty grip. Clearly setting a tone Djann thought. He did not expect the promptness but was happy it was a short list to present. Logging into the inset display at the station, Tempest turned it so both he and the Captain could see.

"Thank you for the time, I'll keep it brief. I have some personal research as an extension of my Daystrom fellowship running that uses background processing to map and catalogue temporal signatures with specific parameters relating to my research. It's all been cleared with Command. The only time that may be relevant is to shut it down for more central core processing power".

Djann pressed a few keys and brought up a full screen display of the main lab's security monitoring. "We have 3 active research programs running from Starfleet. The isolation field on the left there is housing some genetically modified spores and seeds. We're testing to see if warp travel destabilizes the molecular structure, these species are much more nutrient dense and have a very compact RNA/DNA structure. If all goes well, they'll be shipped back to a research outpost in a month or so and implemented on arid or vegetation barren colonies. Up next, you're looking to the center workspace there. This is really a tag team effort with engineering but we're testing remote probes that can detect microfractures in the hull and repair them in enroute. Self sustaining maintenance. They can even operate at warp allegedly but we've yet to run any of those tests. Unless you object, we'll run these things out if we have any opportunity. Lastly, we have what I consider our main focus down there".

Switching to a view of one of the secondary labs, the computer showed an image of a containment field with a hefty structure in the middle. The lab was mostly dark and there were no other experiments visible.

"This is lab 3, situated at the farthest aft portion of deck 7. Inside the containment field is a pretty unique monitoring and containment device. There's a fully constituted time crystal suspended in a neutralizing gel. This experiment is also testing the effects of warp travel but more of the emissions and temporal displacement caused. There are no known risks with carrying or testing a time crystal but we are just on the cusp of research of them. That being said, I have an active transporter lock on the containment device at all times ready to beam it to the edge of transporter range".

Turning off the display he looked to the Captain. "Unless you have anything further Captain or any questions, that's everything I have".

[Lawrie McGellen]

[Sickbay]

Lawrie walked groggily into Sickbay half asleep.  Stretched as he got through the doors and wandered over to the CMO's office door, there was something that he wanted to work on that he needed to get approved by her so he could work on it in his spare time. His pet project which was very important to him.

Palming the chime he stood and waited politely outside.

[Lindsey]

:Crew quarters - deck 5:

Max woke just before her alarm sounded.  Years of shipboard life had honed her sleep cycles to wake her at the sounds of change throughout the ship.
She looked at the plain bulkheads that surrounded her and sighed.
Alright day.  let's get this on.  Computer, what was my last time?
Your last time was 15 minutes and 23 seconds
Alright

She pulled on a jogging suit and took a few runs on the spot before leaving her quarters and heading for the bow of the Shran.

:Shran amidships:

She looked out of one of the forward windows for a moment, losing herself in the view and not noticing the other crew moving around
Computer, start the count in 5
Count running

With a last look out the bow Max turned on a heel and sprinted out of the door as fast as she could manage, dodging around crew and occasionally using a wall to kick off from she headed towards the neck of the Shran.  Each time she ran into a turbolift she would duck to the side and hammer at a jefferies tube - sliding along until she reached one of the ladders that ran adjacent to the turbolifts.  Hands grip like this - feet either side - and she dropped using her legs as breaks.
another jefferies tube spat her out into engineering and yet she kept going, her legs pumping hard.
She pounded past the nacelle pylons and skidded into the shuttlebay.  Her hand reached out as she neared the massive doors at the far end she bounced off almost falling to the floor.

Co..  co..  computer she panted what is the time
your time is 16 minutes and 4 seconds
Agghh...   I thought tube 41 should have been quicker.  back to 12 tomorrow.

She stood panting until she had her breath back and then took the much faster turbolift back to her quarters and took a much needed shower before pulling on her uniform and looking at herself in the mirror.

Stay strong guys, wherever you are.  This is all for you.
she picked up a tattered toolbelt and buckled it round her waist and then picked up a neckerchief from her collection (todays choice was an off green) tied it around her neck and strode off to find something palatable from the mess hall

[Solluk]

Mess Hall

"Have you met our new Keptin yet?"

Mondo shook his head as he pierced his salad with his fork.  He decided that he had better eat, even if he felt no enthusiasm for it.  He'd be no good to the ship if he didn't maintain his strength.

"Not yet," he said, "And I suppose it could be weeks or months more before I do.  Crewmen and Captains do not often intersect.  Perhaps if I get a bridge rotation, or secure an away team.  Otherwise, meeting the Captain is a rare prospect."

He thought for a moment before adding, "And that is fine, really.  The last time I met a Captain, it was because something terrible happened during a celebration.  If it means there are no disasters, then I much prefer quiet anonymity in some far corner of the ship.  I believe I am scheduled to secure the Armory today.  I hope it is an uneventful shift."

He picked up his forkful and put it in his mouth, chewing slowly.   It tasted good, at least.

[William Waring]

[Personal Quarters - 0645]

Will got himself to a proper sleep schedule and it was working wonders. As he brought the blade across his face he didn't feel the slightest tremor, something unheard of just months earlier. It seemed the treatment he had was working although he suspected something else was helping along his recovery or rather someone else.

Wiping of the remaining shaving cream, he inspected the job he had done. "Very nice" he said to himself as he felt his freshly shaved face. It was a simply task yet one that he couldn't do that well from fear of cutting himself.

Lieutenant Waring, it is 0650. Estimated time to the Bridge is 3.1 minutes. Leaving now will avoid peak Turbolift usage

Disposing of his towel, he grabbed his uniform jacket and coffee before grabbing his PADD and leaving for the Bridge.

[Bridge - 0700]

Stepping onto the Bridge he noted the time on the nearby panel. He would need to adjust that program again as it grossly underestimated travel time from his quarters to the Bridge. But that was a job for another day.

[Bridge]
Eyes closed, almost as if trying to capture the few minutes of sleep he had sacrificed in order to get to the bridge on time, Michael let out a quiet exhale as Tempest addressed him. It seemed like Iike he hadn't been in his seat for five minutes.  Could they not give him a moment of reprieve? Michael wanted to defer the CSO's suggested action to his new XO, hoping she would take more interest than he could possibly feign this early in the morning, but it seemed she was not ready to work yet. It wasn't that he disliked the science department or what it did, he was just a bit too groggy to care. He gently rubbed the scratch marks on the chair's arm rests with his fingers. Perhaps his predecessor's aggression wasn't unwarranted.

Michael opened his eyes, revealing his previously hidden steel blue irises. He firmly took his science officer's hand. His grip on the Lieutenant's hand was tight, almost crushing, but Michael wanted to firmly establish that he was the dominant one in this relationship. He gave it one definitive shake before releasing his grip. Letting go, he noted the man's other hand, and though a series of questions, and judgements formed in his mind, he pushed them to the back of his head.

"I'm Captain Ferdinand." he said, early morning grog still in his voice. "Please, I have time now. Why don't you take a seat in Commander Garrison's chair? I'm sure she won't mind."

"Captain" he said hoping to grab the man's attention "I am Lieutenant William Waring, Operations Division. I never had the opportunity to hand over my transfer papers under Captain Meadows. I hope I can rectify that now." He said as he outstretched the PADD that detailed everything about his transfer "Unless another time would be better for you, of course."

[Kinley Garrison]

Captain's Log Stardate 73545.8:
It's been a few days since I have assumed Command of the Shran. Her crew seems competent, but I can't help but feel there is something bothering them as a collective deep inside. I have read about their former Commanding Officer, one Alyssa Meadows, and it shocks me that someone like her could have ever garnered a psych ward, much less command of a starship. I hope the change will be something positive for the crew, but the biggest thing they will need to remember is that to be strong, one must earn their keep.

End log.

[Captain's Quarters, Day 1, 0625]
"The time is now 0625." The cool voice of the computer had been announcing the time for the past twenty-five minutes. Michael was still in bed, struggling to keep his eyes open as the call of slumber tried so desperately to pull them closed. Though the previous night had not been difficult, it had been long. He had burnt the midnight oil examining the official ship's logs, minus the personal ones, to get a better understanding of what the crew had been through: Parties, dinosaurs, a malfunctioning holodeck, and genocide. From reading this, Michael had felt he better understood why he had been brought here.

"The time is now 0630." 0630? How had time passed by so quickly? His hands met his face and he rubbed it for a solid second-- or had it been another five minutes-- before letting out a sigh and throwing the covers off of him. His bare feet touched the ground of the carpet with a silent thud. The carpet was flat, plushless, but it did not give the Captain any resistance as he dragged his feet to the bathroom to prepare for the day.

[Bridge, Day 1, 0700]
He was an hour early to the party. Stepping off the turbolift, he was looked at with a bit of confusion before the confusion was replaced with nothing but obedience.

"Good morning." Michael said as he took his chair on the bridge. He noted the scratch marks still on the chair and frowned. It seemed like Engineering had not had time to repair the damage that his predecessor had left behind. No matter. It wasn't his #1 priority at the moment.

[Bridge]
Kinley came up to the bridge, insulated mug of hot chocolate, extra whipped with cream and sprinkles in hand. Alpha shift was never her favorite shift, but this morning she was especially tired. She may or may not have stayed up a bit too late talking with a certain ops officer. But she was up now, so that was all that mattered. She had been overseeing the repair work after their most recent docking at Starbase 623. After the massive Holodeck overload and subsequent Keer invasion and power outage, a week of shore leave was absolutely necessary. It was during then that Alyssa got 'requested' for examination in connection to a body found by the USS Tempest. In the meanwhile, the Shran got a new captain, one Captain Ferdinand by name. He seemed nice when she met him, but there was something slightly unnerving about him that she couldn't pin down about him,  like he was silently testing her every move. She shook off that feeling. Maybe it was still a reaction from being around Meadows for so long, she couldn't stop looking over her shoulder for the next disaster.

Nodding a good morning to Ferdinand as he was busy with Will, her eyebrow raised in confusion as she saw Tempest in her usual chair, listing off the current experiments Science was currently up to. While she certainly wasn't a stickler for decorum, that was still her seat. No matter, though. She could deal. 'Excellent plans, Lieutenant.' She said, coming up from behind. 'I can't wait to hear about the results.' Taking a sip of the steaming drink in her hands, she smiled to the officer. Things were going on schedule.

[Michael Ferdinand]

[Bridge, Day 1, 0708]

Turning off the display he looked to the Captain. "Unless you have anything further Captain or any questions, that's everything I have".

While Tempest spoke, Michael had leaned forward to get a better look, resting both his arms on the one arm rest in front of him. He nodded when appropriate in an attempt to signal his approval. The research on the plants didn't really catch his interest, GMOs were centuries old at this point, but as the science officer began discussing the probes, he managed to really pull Michael's attention inward. Had Michael been a Vulcan, his ears would have perked up, or wagged, or whatever it was that Vulcans did to show they were giving their full attention. Micro-fractures were an every day occurrence when it came to traveling on a starship. In his experience, it wasn't uncommon for some of them to go undetected for a matter of weeks, if not months, before some poor crewman performing routine maintenance would pick them up. Only on three occasions did a microfracture actually breach the hull on his watch- three times and five lives too many.

"You have my full authorization to begin testing the probe immediately." Michael said. "I expect a full report on the outputs and what the next steps are the next time we drop out of warp."

[Personal Quarters - 0645]

Will got himself to a proper sleep schedule and it was working wonders. As he brought the blade across his face he didn't feel the slightest tremor, something unheard of just months earlier. It seemed the treatment he had was working although he suspected something else was helping along his recovery or rather someone else.

Wiping of the remaining shaving cream, he inspected the job he had done. "Very nice" he said to himself as he felt his freshly shaved face. It was a simply task yet one that he couldn't do that well from fear of cutting himself.

Lieutenant Waring, it is 0650. Estimated time to the Bridge is 3.1 minutes. Leaving now will avoid peak Turbolift usage

Disposing of his towel, he grabbed his uniform jacket and coffee before grabbing his PADD and leaving for the Bridge.

[Bridge - 0700]

Stepping onto the Bridge he noted the time on the nearby panel. He would need to adjust that program again as it grossly underestimated travel time from his quarters to the Bridge. But that was a job for another day.
"Captain" he said hoping to grab the man's attention "I am Lieutenant William Waring, Operations Division. I never had the opportunity to hand over my transfer papers under Captain Meadows. I hope I can rectify that now." He said as he outstretched the PADD that detailed everything about his transfer "Unless another time would be better for you, of course."

Michael looked up from his seat. He saw a tall man in a gold division uniform, which the man had explained was due to him being in Ops. Michael took a moment to process what Lieutenant Waring had said before reluctantly taking the PADD out of the Lieutenants's hand. It should be noted that he didn't offer to shake the man's hand, not out of disrespect to Waring, but because Michael was still conversing with Tempest when Waring had arrived. "I'll take care of this at once, Lieutenant. Glad to officially have you with us." Michael said, coolly, still a bit confused about why exactly Captain Meadows hadn't already dealt with this. Perhaps it was incompetence, rather than aggression, that saw her being removed from command. "Please take your station."

Nodding a good morning to Ferdinand as he was busy with Will, her eyebrow raised in confusion as she saw Tempest in her usual chair, listing off the current experiments Science was currently up to. While she certainly wasn't a stickler for decorum, that was still her seat. No matter, though. She could deal. 'Excellent plans, Lieutenant.' She said, coming up from behind. 'I can't wait to hear about the results.' Taking a sip of the steaming drink in her hands, she smiled to the officer. Things were going on schedule.

Ah, it seemed Kinley finally made it to the bridge. As Michael waved Waring away, he placed the PADD that he was handed on the arm's rest, and returned his attention to Tempest and his XO. He quickly did a one over of Kinley, assessing her and making sure that she was, at the least, physically capable of handling the day. "Yes, Commander, I am in full agreement." His words were crisp and clear now. All traces off the morning grogginess had now vanished. "Which is why I am tasking you with tracking the success of the Science department's research experiments." His attention shifted slightly to the science officer sitting in Kinley's chair. "I expect to see good things coming from you, Mr. Tempest. Now, if you'd be so polite as to give the Commander her seat, I would greatly appreciate it."
--------------------------
[Sickbay- As Trisha]

[Sickbay]

Lawrie walked groggily into Sickbay half asleep.  Stretched as he got through the doors and wandered over to the CMO's office door, there was something that he wanted to work on that he needed to get approved by her so he could work on it in his spare time. His pet project which was very important to him.

Palming the chime he stood and waited politely outside.

It was 0700 and that meant it was time for breakfast. Sitting on Trisha's desk was an herb encrusted slow cooked short rib drenching with pineapple barbecue sauce. Before eating, she had ensured that she wore a white bib so that the sauce would not stain her uniform. The chime of the door rang while she was mid-bite.

Taking off her bib, she wiped her hands and placed it on the her desk. She casually got up, made her way to the door, and opened it. Standing in front of her was Lawrie McGellen, one of her newer medical officers. "Good morning." Trisha said, monotone as usual. "Do you need something? I was in the middle of doing something important."

[Lawrie McGellen]

[Sickbay- As Trisha]It was 0700 and that meant it was time for breakfast. Sitting on Trisha's desk was an herb encrusted slow cooked short rib drenching with pineapple barbecue sauce. Before eating, she had ensured that she wore a white bib so that the sauce would not stain her uniform. The chime of the door rang while she was mid-bite.

Taking off her bib, she wiped her hands and placed it on the her desk. She casually got up, made her way to the door, and opened it. Standing in front of her was Lawrie McGellen, one of her newer medical officers. "Good morning." Trisha said, monotone as usual. "Do you need something? I was in the middle of doing something important."

[Sickbay - Outside CMOs Office]

"Sorry to disturb your ... breakfast?, Doctor..." Lawrie began. "I just wanted permission to run my research for my pet project, finding a vaccine for Choriocytosis, since strobolin is so rare and the synthesised only works so long and not as well with Vulcans at all....and ask for a corner of one of the research labs, pretty please."

He rubbed a nervous hand around the back of his neck, "I can come back later if you wish."

[Michael Ferdinand]

[Sickbay- As Trisha]
"No, no, it's alright." Trisha said. She would have sounded glum had she not been stuck in monotone mode. "Very well, permission granted. Please coordinate with the science department the instruments you need. Tell them you have my permission to do so. Anything else?"