Star Trek: Theurgy

Day 01 [2200 hrs.] Drinking Yourself Blind

[ Lt. JG Hi'Jak | Deck 28 | Below Decks  USS Theurgy ] Attn: Triage
[Show/Hide]Jack must have been low priority on the list. As a junior Lieutenant he was supposed to get his own quarters, and yet had not been assigned a place to sleep despite his interview having been a little over an hour ago. A new com badge had been issued to him, and Jack's rank had been reinstated though on a ship of traitors how much did he really care about his old rank. Once again he had been put in place as a junior lieutenant. Tomorrow he would be a member of the science department.

Tonight he was going to end up sleeping in a bar, and what's worse was the dull throb in the back of his head. Maybe it was just stimulation overload. Between what happened earlier with Sera, and then the big meeting in the hanger deck, and the hours that had transpired after that. Jack was starting to feel a little worse for ware.

No better cure for a headache than alcohol which was the logic that had brought him to Below Decks. If he could dream big, than he could envision himself going back to someone else room to spend the night. Was that a little hypocritical? Him and Sera were something though neither him nor the other adult in that situation had ever defined what that something was supposed to be.

Also who exactly was he kidding? He had never been popular with the women back on the starbase what exactly changed between then and now? A daring jail escape in the middle of a battle. Right daring, which part? the part where you had used Sera as a human shield or the part where you nearly had to piss yourself the entire time.

Still better than that one guy who puked all over the meeting room.

His vision blurred for a moment and he shook it off this headache was just a minor migraine nothing to really write home about he was a klingon he was supposed to be better than this. So he went back to looking at the bar, looking for company and trying to figure out how he was going to spend the next few hours.

Oh and what to drink.

He had been a little disappointed when he had seen that the replicators here lacked the ability to do some of his old klingon favorites. He would program back in the proper mixes when he had time tomorrow, it was a low priority and he was more willing to go with some earth drink. It seemed even on a ship of traitors there was no Romulan ale options. The drink of legends that he had certainly never indulged in because it was illegal. and Illegal things were bad.

"So what am I going to drink today."

[ Deacon | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: Triage, Kaligos

It had only been a few hours since the conference with the crew, followed almost immediately by the incident involving the andorian on deck 8, but in truth, the whole of the day seemed one long, interwoven chain of chaos and happenstance existing outside of his grasp.  He disliked this sense of watching his life unfold from the outside; being forced down the rapids without the means to stay dry, let alone steer.  Below Decks, at least, gave him some sense of peace, something he found himself hard pressed to locate anywhere else on the ship thus far.  He had hoped that the late hour would dissuade others from coming down, allowing him some time for reflection and prayer.

The sound of the port doors sliding open, however, assured him that any hope of peace and isolation was futile at best.  This vessel, for better or worse, did not seem to recognize a proper regiment of day and night activities.  He supposed the chaos that brought him here still swam in the veins of everyone else on board.  Rest, it seemed, would be a goal hard earned this day.

From where he sat, nestled neatly on the ground behind the bar counter, legs crossed one over the other and tail folded neatly into his lap, he could hear his newest unplanned visitor.  Sniffing at the air, ears folded back and  eyes still half-closed, Deacon filtered past the scents of food, booze and past guests until his nose revealed that this new arrival was likely klingon.

"So what am I going to drink today," the klingon asked, prompting a snort born of irritation mixed with amusement from the kzin.

"It is a wonder the crew does not wander around in a drunk stupor half the time," Deacon stated, not bothering to move from his seated position on the floor, but speaking loud enough to ensure he was heard clearly.  "This place is like an open excuse to become intoxicated and not a shred of strakh to be earned."

He rose to his feet, giving a sour glance at his left hand, flexing his fingers several times.  Had his hand fallen asleep?  It wasn't an uncommon situation, though he was certain he'd not done anything to warrant such a feeling.  Perhaps he's strained something while dealing with the incident on deck 8 earlier?  Was he that out of shape?  Unlikely, but whatever the cause, it was somewhat disconcerting.

Still, now was not the time.

Deacon's golden eyes turned to the klingon as he rose to his full stature.  Of all the major powers in the Alpha and Beta Quadrants, only the klingons were given some token amount of respect by kzinti bred from a commonality in culture, honor and bloodshed.  But where the klingons had finally allied -- for the most part -- with the humans and their Federation, kzinti still nursed old wounds and plotted their revenge.  And where klingons had prospered, the kzinti festered.  This was another lesson he prayed the Fanged God would teach his people.

"Some humans nearly cleared the bar of wine."  He considered.  "Well, come to think of it... one human.  A female.  Six bottles."  He tilted his head and folded one ear forward playfully.  "You'd almost think she was klingon."

He took a deep breath and leaned back to look at what remained beneath the bar.  "Fortunately for you, she stopped short of the more exotic stocks."  Carefully, he reached down and lifted several bottle up to the counter for display.  "Hmm... two vintages of kanar (http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Kanar), breshtanti ale (http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Breshtanti_ale), perhaps some maraltian seev-ale (http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Maraltian_Seev-ale)...?" he offered, gauging the klingon's response.

[ Krystal "Meony" Tancredi | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: Lt. JG Hi'Jak & Deacon
 
[Show/Hide]Lordy! Tancredi was in a tiff. She was nursing a headache that wasn't alcohol-induced. After all that talking and briefing and acclimatisation to a new ship, the redhead just wanted to forget everything in blissful oblivion...for a while at least. After that near miss with the protective coil around the tumour in her brain, she was told to take it easy, get some rest, blah blah bleh, the usual stuff. Not that Tancredi was well known for listening to doctors other than Captain Kendrick.  So she followed three other Resolve crew mates, all clustering together, keeping with Marquez's instructions to have no less than two walking together. Even the redhead obeyed this one. Plus she was keeping an eye on her own team. But once they were in, she split off from them, making a beeline for Jack, who was being addressed by a catman, not of the same species as K'Ren though.

“Well, howdy sugah!” said Tancredi, “Ah was hopin' ya'd be hereabouts! And lo an' behold, there ya are.”

Looking at the selection the catman was bringing up, she grinned, “Mm-mmm! Ah do lahk yer taste uh...mister.” she half raised a hand with index finger out, and she gave the catman an uncertain smile. “Don't suppose there's any Romulan ale in there?”

Too bad none of the Resolve stock survived the explosion, or they'd really have a little party. Which reminded her of something, She lightly punched Jack in the shoulder, “Hey Jack, d'ya have the coding for Chech'tluth? That would be somethin' ta add here if they don' already have it!”

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark| Below Decks | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy 01 ]

There was still much left to do, Natalie thought to herself, as she made her way down to deck 28. People to reassign, meetings to be had, a potential assistant to bring in from the Resolve - to fill the hole in the roster she herself left when she was promoted to replace Hendrick's after he passed away. Died violently, you mean. the dark thought surfaced, unhidden, but refused to be dismissed. Damn.

She should be working, but she was just done, in every possible sense of the word. Hips swaying beneath her skirt, Natalie Stark forced her self to sashay into the Below Decks bar, refusing to let old ghosts keep her away from the place. She didn't want to be holed up in the barely occupied officers lounge. She wanted people around, for whatever that would be worth. Not that she was great for company just then. She was feeling like shit, after the raid, taking command in the wake of it, and then briefing so many new crew.

And never mind saying a few quiet goodbyes to crew that hadn't survived the battle. Far too many of those.

But she stopped in her tracks as she looked around the room, hearing the loudmouth science officer that had been swept off the starbase during the retreat. The one that had evidence against Ian Hawthorne, and yet seemed to doubt every word out of Captain Ives mouth. She scowled, then swiftly schooled her features. A sign of how tried she was - Natalie was too self concious to let her face betray her thoughts.

Which shifted to why is there a K'nzit behind the bar. Carefully she walked up to the bar, opposite the others and quietly sat down. She felt like she'd just stepped through the looking glass...

[ Lt. JG Hi'Jak | Deck 28 | Below Decks  USS Theurgy ] Attn: Triage
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"heh, Federation drinks are nearly impossible to get wrecked with, the Synthohol doesn't stay in your system long enough for a hang over. Unless you drink far too much of it." Jack seemed to discredit the idea that the giant Cat-man brought up before actually turning towards the creature and seeing what exactly he was dealing with. His eyes widened for a moment as he looked over the larger creature.

When the cat behind the bar mentioned a woman who drank six bottles of wine he just shook his head, yep that was the kind of drinking that would cause a hang over, and the kind of drinking he was frankly here for. When he said something about Klingons however Jack's eyes turned on the creature. "Excuse me I didn't seem to catch your name? I'm Jack."

He knew for a fact that the cat thing had brought up the Klingon remark because of his forehead. It was always so innocent to others, and every single time it made his eye twitch. It didn't always strike such a nerve. He could remembered days before Simon, before Starbase 84, a bright eyed Ensign fresh out of the academy ready to serve and do his part to make the universe a better place. He remembered even before that under the green skies of Qo'Nos where he had been born and raised. He remembered the desire and pride of wanting to be a warrior like his older brothers and sisters. "tach 'oHbe' Daq batlh Daq vor neH."

Oh that nieve dumb bastard. Too smart to be a good Klingon, not crafty enough to be a good human. He tried to shake it off, but his eyes stared dangerously at the cat thing for it. "pong Hurgh poH Hurgh HIq. So I will take some of the vintage Kanar."

His eyes turned another familiar voice and he was quick to break into a smile. "Well if it isn't my savior of the day."

Jack couldn't help but chuckle at Tancredi's entrance and request for Romulan Ale, now that was a drink he could get behind. But he doubted that this place had anything of the sort. Ive's had been pretty clear about them all still being under Federation classifications. "Sadly my personal recipes were confiscated with the data pads that contain my life's work. So I probably won't get that stuff back till tomorrow after some ugly stuck up asshole science officer goes through it all to steal my work."

The only thing Jack had left of his possessions was the puzzle box, which he had made sure to keep close at hand ever since he had arrived. Currently it sat in a belt holster, which was supposed to be designed for a phaser, but he had to give up the weapons he had stolen from starbase security hours ago. His eyes turned only slightly to the third woman at the table, since she didn't speak or order anything he didn't address her.

"My new friend the bar tender was just getting me some Kanar, how do you feel about Cardassian drinks? They don't have the spice of the klingons, but they have just as many atrocities." Jack smirked sure he wanted to bash the cat in for being a little xenophobic, and yet he was willing to make jokes at the expense of the cardassians. It was just how he was feeling.

"So what do you think of the modern Bismark that we are sitting in?"

~~~
Translations:
"tach 'oHbe' Daq batlh Daq vor neH."

The bar is not a place for honor, but a place of healing.

pong Hurgh poH Hurgh HIq

Dark times call for dark drinks

[ Deacon | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: Triage, Kaligos, Brutus

"Excuse me I didn't seem to catch your name? I'm Jack."

"Deacon," he replied as he cast another appraising glance down below the bar, deciding that it had been left to the free discretion of the crew for far too long.  "And according to the ship's avatar, for tonight, at least, I am keeper of this place."

"tach 'oHbe' Daq batlh Daq vor neH. pong Hurgh poH Hurgh HIq. So I will take some of the vintage Kanar."

With a tilt of his head, Deacon considered Jack's words before offering, "jIlegh. vaj HIq neH mo' Hegh," as he took hold of the second bottle of kanar and poured out the rich, plum colored liquid into a glass.  "That would explain why this place is so popular.  Well, then perhaps the Fanged God delivered me to just the right spot."

Two females entered in the klingon's wake, although he supposed half-klingon was perhaps a more accurate description.  Deacon squared himself, as the first female approached and inserted herself into the conversation, a faint tingle of offense running down his spine that he forced himself to swallow.  He'd already taken the measure of this crew hours earlier and there was no avoiding the manretti if he was going to be part of it and he could hardly spend every interaction with tension riding his shoulders to his ears.

At first she had requested Romulan Ale, which, according to Deacon's admittedly limited knowledge of Federation regulations, as illegal; and then she asked the half-klingon about chech'tluth.  Truth be told, given the alliance between the humans and klingons, he'd half expected the ship to be able to replicate most intoxicant suitable for klingon consumption, but perhaps therein lay another similarity between their species.  Perhaps klingons had no love for replicated alcohol just as he had no desire for replicated meat.

He regarded the female casually, or as casually as his training would permit, before he grabbed a second glass and poured an equal measure of kanar out for her as well. 

"Regrettably, the hour is late and I am not yet versed on the available food stocks, or I would prepare a proper meal," he added, returning the other bottles back on the shelves.  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the second female sequestering herself at the far end of the bar, whether it out of wariness, weariness or some other desire for solitude.  Truth be told, he was happily inclined to let her sit in the corner ignored, but that didn't seem to be the expectation for this position and if nothing else, he took pride in his duties.  "nuqneH," he said, as he turned towards the the lone female.

"Do you want a drink?" he asked as he approached.


---
Translations:
"jIlegh. vaj HIq neH mo' Hegh" = "I see.  So the alcohol is just an excuse not to die." (implied "So it's purely for medicinal purposes")

"nuqneH" = "Excuse me."

[ Krystal "Meony" Tancredi | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: Lt. JG Hi'Jak, Deacon & Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark
 
[Show/Hide]Tancredi's head whipped around to look at the newcomer, studying her momentarily, then quickly studying the exits and recounting her strategic extraction in her head again should it become necessary. She took in the measure of the woman and returned to catman, now Deacon, which was...at least to her...probably a lousier name than catman. But he poured her a drink, and basically, they'd already met earlier, during the whole thing with a drunk lady and some guy who was probably going to haunt her for a while yet. And she was still wearing her Tactical CONN suit, so she wasn't too concerned. Metal knee to the groin was generally good for defusing something, as long as the problem was a man.

“Well dat's a cryin' shame,” said Tancredi, “but Ah s'ppose it could'a been worse.”

She took a seat beside Jack and raised the newly poured glass to Deacon in appreciation, “Much oblahged, sugah.”

Sipping the drink, she nodded at Jack, “Atrocities ain't th' half of it, Jack! What th' hell?!?”

She wasn't really complaining complaining, but she was complaining. Romulan Ale would be so awesome. At his next question, she looked around her once more, taking the opportunity to study the structure and consider alternate strategies for escape. And who she'd be taking away with her in the escape. “It's fahn, Ah reckon. From da briefin' earliah, Ah gather we better get used ta it bein' our home. Whah d'ya ask? Don' lahk it?”

The catman was going over to address the other woman, and the young redhead followed his movements casually, as if idly allowing a movement and action to distract her, but she wanted to take in Jack's measure. She didn't know him all that well beyond that one meeting with him when she was following F'rell around. And where was his Borg friend?

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark| Below Decks | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy 01 ]

Natalie tried to tune out the jovial pilot from the Resolve (she could see the ship name on the flight suit) and the arrogant Little upstart from Starbase 84. Truly, she made the effort. But the pilots voice, it carried far, her twang quite distinctive, and the science officer...was clearly feeling the results of the day, going out of his way to insult the captain, and Thea.

Modern Bismarck indeed she thought darkly, about to open her mouth and correct the junior officer, when the man - he sure looked like a man - approached and said something she didn't understand, until the communicator translated it, then asked if she'd like a drink. He was....tall. Fuzzy. Polite. Not what one would expect of a member of a species that was one of the Federation - Humanity in particular - oldest foes. She'd only ever seen holos - and older 2D recordings - of his species. And yet, here he was, clearly taking Rory's old role.

War makes for strange bedfellows

"Yes please," Natalie could be polite, "I'd like anything you have that happens to be sweet, easy to drink. And strong enough to blot out - that is...to calm some fraded nerves." She managed to smile, leaning on the bartop, reminding herself that even off duty, she was Senior Staff, and that carried a responsibility with it, regardless of the hour. Ives and Trent would expect no less of her.

Even if that Bismark comment sat uneasy with the Lieutenant Commander.

[ Lt. JG Hi'Jak | Deck 28 | Below Decks  USS Theurgy ] Attn: Triage
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It was odd hearing Klingon come from someone inside of Federation space. Hearing Deacon's tone it was fluent and unusually well spoken for the area of space he was found in. Considering that a mere few hours ago they had been on the boarder of the Romulan Empire. He looked at the creature for a moment something akin to respect going through his mind as he picked up the plum colored liqueur. The problem with using the replicators was the synthenol, he had managed to make a reciepie that tasted almost exactly like  Chech'tluth but without the ability to mix and cure the proper Klingon liqueur that went into the drink it was a Federation carbon copy.

For now he had to agree with Deacon. "I am almost worried to ask this, but how long do you think the real drinks will last in your stores, I can't imagine this ship gets to dock for supplies very often."

Tasting the Kanar he seemed to have no problem with it. A little more sour than he was used too, and like he said it lacked the spice, but when it came down to it, he would drink happily. Hearing Tancredi's reaction to the drink he chuckled. "Cardassian's tend to lack imagination in their selection. But it still does the job, and frankly I will take anything over the Federation's replicator's dystilled vomit any day."

Going from the cat who spoke Klingon with no accent or hint of problems came the woman who couldn't even speak standard without her unconventional twang. It was adorable really, and one of the things that made him smile even if there was something about Krystal that made him think she was always a quarter inch away from driving a spoon into him. "To the contrary I actually love the ship. She's beautiful, I got to see a few maps, and looking at her from the outside she is attractive, curves in great places even she's a little bruised to be expected of anything that flies in space."

His tone was a little playful hinting that he wasn't just talking about the ship. Aside from their previous meeting he really did want to get to know the pilot a little better. She was one of the few faces he immediately knew on this ship, as he wasn't exactly sure where Six had vanished too, and Sera was down in the Sabine staying the night in her own ship, and hopefully not leaving him stranded come morning.

"There is one thing that's going to keep me up at night though... Well aside from the fact that I still don't have quarters. Back on 84, I would listen to the Federation daily casts, the theurgy came up a lot on talk shows, There was this one guy who was completely convinced that the captain was replaced by the ship AI after some kind of romulan sabotage. I'm just going to say it, paranoid as it sounds, but they took away my tricorder before the breifing, and I didn't run any life sign scans before the sabine landed. Sounds crazy, but than this is the same crew that believes invisible parasites have taken over the Federation so at this point, i just don't want to rule anything out." He took a sip of the Kanar, glancing over to the other woman at the bar, he knew nothing about her.

[ Deacon | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: Triage, Kaligos, Brutus


"I'd like anything you have that happens to be sweet, easy to drink. And strong enough to blot out - that is...to calm some frayed nerves," the lone female had said.

Sweet?  Deacon tilted his head slightly as he considered.  He had vague recollections of 'sweet', things he could eat when he was younger that would pass through him now like a herd of stampeding azkdow, let alone he'd long since lost the ability to taste anything that came close.  Sweet wasn't a critical dietary compliment among the kzinti, after all... meat, meat, and more meat.  They needed know solely if it had soured and turned rotten to avoid it, and they had nearly thirty words to describe its more savory aspects.

Still, admitting ignorance to the female was more than he cared to handle.  He considered his options, casting an appraising glance once more at the bottles beneath the bar, of which one stood out for its sheer lack of nearby companions.  The Risan wine.  The other female had imbibed great quantities earlier and while it was a stretch, he had to guess that manretti shared a similar taste.  And Risa was purported to be a pleasure planet of sorts.  Perhaps this would fit the bill.

He stooped, taking hold of the bottle, grabbing another glass with his free hand and pouring a liberal amount of the dark, violet fluid inside before placing it before Stark.  "Risan wine."  He looked at the bottle and then placed it on the bar before her as well. "To... 'calm some frayed nerves,'" he added with a slight incline of his head.

"I am almost worried to ask this, but how long do you think the real drinks will last in your stores, I can't imagine this ship gets to dock for supplies very often."

Deacon looked back towards the man -- Jack he'd said his name was -- and then cast a glance across the bottles out of sheer reflex, as if by will and repetition he might compel them to multiply spontaneously.  "I have not had the opportunity to take a full accounting of the stock," he replied, crossing back, flexing his hand in a vain effort to offset the numbness, "but given the rate of drinking I have seen tonight, we will likely need a distillery unless someone sets up a regular supply chain."

He crossed his arms, leaning against the back wall.  "And it would appear this vessel is woefully short on friends these days."

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark| Below Decks | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy 01 ]

The ...bartender, she supposed - was very polite, she thought, a stark counterpoint to the science officer across the bar, flirting - at least she thought he was flirting - with the pilot. Again, not what she was expecting. Natalie would have thought that she'd be past base stereotypes, and yet here she was, falling victim to them. Then again, her only exposure to the Kzinti had up until that point been history texts. And history was written by the victor - in this case, Earth, of centuries prior. Her people had come a long, long way as a species, but they still had some faults. Perhaps their descriptions of the Kzinit culture was one such thing.

Or perhaps this one was a weirdo. Who could tell?

"Thank you," She quietly replied, with another ghost of a smile, as the set the wine before her. Gingerly the COps took the glass by the stem, holding it tightly and giving it a gentle swirl. It was fragrant, and if it tasted anything like how it smelled, there was every chance it would be delicious. So she closed her eyes and brought it to her lips, taking a small sip. "MMmmmmmm," the noise tumbled out on his own accord as the sweet flavor splashed across her tongue and slid down the back of her throat, smooth as silk. Well, things were starting to look -

"There is one thing that's going to keep me up at night though... Well aside from the fact that I still don't have quarters. Back on 84, I would listen to the Federation daily casts, the theurgy came up a lot on talk shows, There was this one guy who was completely convinced that the captain was replaced by the ship AI after some kind of romulan sabotage. I'm just going to say it, paranoid as it sounds, but they took away my tricorder before the briefing, and I didn't run any life sign scans before the sabine landed. Sounds crazy, but than this is the same crew that believes invisible parasites have taken over the Federation so at this point, i just don't want to rule anything out."

Natalie choked on her drink, letting out a sputtering cough and nearly dropped the glass. The same skilled dexterity that allowed her to input multiple commands get her hands into the guts of the ship with ease allowed her to keep the wine from spilling everywhere, but it was a close thing. Swallowing, coughing again, Natalie was unable to resist confronting the sheer stupid she just heard.

Senior officer or no, she just couldn't stop herself from blurting out, "Are you kidding me? Do you really believe such utter hogwash?" Her tongue felt slightly thick from the sweet wine, but her words were acerbic, "You're a science officer, use your bloody head! Weren't you the one that came a board with proof that Hawthorne was a traitor? And you think the Captain has been replaced by the ships AI!? Of all the damned fool conspiracy theories...Do people actually believe that crap?"

[ Krystal "Meony" Tancredi (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Krystal_Tancredi,_callsign_%22Meony%22) | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: Lt. JG Hi'Jak, Deacon & Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark
 
[Show/Hide]Grinning at Jack, Meony shook her head, “Don' worry, we're a smart buncha fucks. Ah'm sher we'd figger somethin' out.”

She pointed to Deacon with an appreciative smile, “Distillery! Ya see? Our problems are solved.”

She tilted her head back and poured that lousy drink in, “Ah hear ya, sugah,” said Tancredi as she turned and leaned her back against the bar, eyes on the escape routes, “replicators cain't capture ah...whaddaya callit? Essence!”

She frowned when Jack spoke about the ship. It seemed to be a double entendre there, and she glanced over at him curiously. But after that, he went on about Jien Ives and a conspiracy. She had to admit, that caught her attention. Replaced by an AI. The other woman didn't take what Jack had to say too well. Because she was choking, or she just hated her drink too. Speaking of which, Tancredi was ready for more of the horrible stuff. But before she could call on Deacon, the woman was scolding Jack, and Tancredi simply glanced back and forth for a while, then she looked at the lady, “Ye'll pardon me, ma'am, but Ah've seen an' 'eard weirder things than dis. So yeah, Ah do believe.”

Besides that, she knew Jack just a tad better than the lady, so...but to soften the blow a little, and because she wasn't looking for trouble...yet, she raised a calming hand, and added, “Ah mean, Ah ain't rulin' nothin' out, y'know? Sure, mebbe it's stupid, mebbe it's all jus' hogwash, as ya said, but Ah lahk to be prepared fer anythin'. And hey, don' take it all out on Jack. 'e's just theorahzin an' all dat, raht, Jack?”

[ Lt. JG Hi'Jak | Deck 28 | Below Decks  USS Theurgy ] Attn: Triage
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Jack didn't turn to face the woman when she started choking he knew he wasn't being very tactful but after the day he had he was pretty sure it hardly mattered. When she started on her rant he turned to pay her some attention, but as he finished his Kanar listening to her speak his first reaction was to hold up his hand towards Deacon and signal for another glass.

"Could me and my friend keep the bottle to share between us?"He said gesturing between him and Tancridi. He was here to drink first thanks to his migraine. After that came finding a place to spend the night, and thirdly was putting this random officer in her place. One glance at her collar and he knew he had to try and play this a little safe.

But when she mentioned Hawthorne he grinned for a moment. "Yes, I brought evidence that Hawthorne had sold himself to the Romulans, and was willing to work with them to incite a war on all fronts. You know what was oddly missing from that evidence? Invisible parasites. So lets use our heads for a moment."

Jack's voice was rather calm as he actually turned to face her. He was glad that Tancridi was willing to come to his defense and he chuckled at the fact that she agreed with him. "Ockham's razor if two explanations exist the simplest solution is often the better. Which is simpler? That all of the Federation has been duped save for one ship, and the entirety of the admiralty has been replaced by something that can not be seen on any kind of scan. So that every task force, every action has been furthering some sort of agenda for possibly hundreds of years because time travel or when the ship went to romulan space something happened and one captain was replaced by an AI puppet head when no one was looking. One involves a con spanning hundreds of ships, planets and countless lives,  the other involves one replacement."

"So I ask you looking at the two theories which crazy conspiracy sounds easier to swallow? all of the Federation, or one experimental AI gone rouge?" Jack moved his hands as if he were balancing a scale. "Now that isn't saying that I won't rule out the possibilities of this camp fire horror story, but like my friend just said, I am not about to rule out anything, because I'm a science officer, and if you want to convince me I need facts. Hawthorne was a dick that's a fact, but an invisible parasite parading around in human skin, that's just a theory... like gravity."

Jack added that last part just to be a little cheeky as he turned to Krystal. "Thank you for the defense."

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark| Below Decks | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy 01 ]

With her drink set aside - momentarily forgotten - Natalie devoted her full attention and ire onto Hi'Jak. She'd finally remembered his name. To a lesser extent, she noted the pilot, who was at the very least trying to be polite. She thought. It was hard to tell - her accent was a bit tough for Natalie to parse, between the general exhaustion of the day and the half a glass she'd consumed so far. Regardless, it was the science officer that Natalie needed to focus on and disabuse him of his notions.

Use our heads? she silently repeated. Oh oh no, he was not 'just theorizing,' as the pilot put it. He was being an ass. And Natalie wasn't going to sit there and take it.  But she kept her mouth shut and listened to him, tried to remind herself that this was what the rest of the galaxy was hearing, day in, and day out. It just made her angrier. At the lies spread about her, her shipmates and her captain.

It was hard for Natalie to cut the pilot from the Resolve much slack either, even though she had been lost in space for three years, beyond the Romulan boarder. Natalie had no idea what she'd seen, experienced on such a journey, and any other day, any other topic, she'd be the pinnacle of sympathy and understanding.

But not today, and not about this.

"You're quite done then, yes?" She asked, paused, sipped her drink, and then started, "I have seen a hologram in action, and I have seen Jien Ives, it doesn't take much to tell the difference with  a pair of eyes. Observation," she stated, bluntly. She traced her finger around the rim of her wine glass as she continued.

"I have faced down a ship that should not exist, brought back from the future for the soul purpose of wiping me and my shipmates out of existence." She shot him a solid glare, "And you - both of you - have seen proof of that, in the form of the Reaver Fighter in the bay earlier this evening." Undeniable proof of at least part of their claims. 

"You have seen the logs, the videos - I'll grant you that could have been mocked up. Fine. You have heard their first officers testimony," she gestured to the red head, lifting her finger from the glass to do so, "As to how nigh on impossible it was to end Ian Hawthorne, which also collaborated our claims. An...outside observation, if you will. Since no one here can be trusted, what with being replaced by holograms."

"If you still think we're all holograms, well, there really isn't much I can do, save perhaps," she reached out over the bar, finding something sharp, and very swiftly cutting her palm. Oh this was a stupid idea, she thought, but she'd had a hell of a day and she was done with this (not to mention, when it came to alcohol, Natalie was an extreme light weight). The red blood dripped to the table and she slid the stained metal across the bar to Hi'Jak. "Analyze away, smart-ass." She then calmly grabbed a cloth napkin and pressed it to her palm. The regrets she'd have in the morning...

"Now I understand that I'm just a lowly Operations Chief, and not a vaunted junior scientist, but I still remember that Newton's Law of Universal Gravitation is a thing. A law. Not a theory." Not once, in her disdainful retort, did Natalie use her rank, save right at the end, and even then, not overtly, or so she felt. No, she wanted to put the little guttersnipe in his place on merit, not position. "So the next time you think about opening your mouth and spewing forth such crap, reconsider, and keep it shut."

Stiffing a hiss of pain, Natalie turned back to the bartender, and quietly apologized, "I'm sorry for all the mess."

[ Deacon | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: Triage, Kaligos, Brutus

Deacon observed the growing confrontation with an equal amount of irritation and disinterest.  The lone female, it seemed, had been incensed by the half-klingon's observations, whether they were smoke or substance.  Either way, such mocking as not uncommon between kzinti trying to measure station within the prides, but it was uncomfortable seeing it here, so far from homeworld, on a species that had claimed such superiority over his own.

When Jack had made the assertion that the Captain may have been replaced by the AI, Deacon considered whether to interject that he, himself, could readily tell the difference between the two as the vessel's avatar had no discernible scent beyond a vague ionization, but the captain clearly did -- although admittedly that was something he caught across a room filled with literally almost everyone else aboard the ship.  Still, his ziirgah had never lied to him, and that was certain enough to tell the one from the other.  But the argument was not with him, and here, in this place -- for the night at least -- he felt he knew the order of authority.

Fortunately, the female with the curious accent beside the klingon had elected not to exacerbate the situation further, and for that, Deacon slid the bottle of kanar in her direction.  He would have slid both bottles, but that risked the supplies even further and given what he'd observed this night alone, these were going to be sorely needed in days to come.

When the confrontation arose to the point of the lone female slicing open her hand to expose her blood, Deacon found he'd reached his limit.  Slamming his hand down on the offered sample, silently grumbling about the unresolved lack of sensation and hoping he'd not accidentally cut himself in the process, giving both patrons a sour glare with his large golden eyes.  "Enough.  If you wish to duel, I will provide you with wtsai and you can take it into the hall, but I will not have unsanctioned bloodshed -- no matter how voluntary -- here."

Sliding the blood sample from the bar, he carried it over to the disposal unit and placed it inside where it disappeared in a shower of glimmering spikes.  From below the bar, he pulled out a box covered in what he fortunately recognized to be the Federation designations for first aid -- something he'd seen enough of during his few escort missions accompanying the raiding parties.  He pushed the box towards Stark.

[ Ens. Krystal "Meony" Tancredi (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Krystal_Tancredi,_callsign_%22Meony%22) | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: Lt. JG Hi'Jak, Deacon & Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark
 
[Show/Hide]Tancredi remained in her reverse position, leaning back against the bar in her Tactical CONN suit, cowboy hat low over her eyes, so with just a slight angling, and her eyes were hidden from sight, but she was still sharp and alert, watching everything. The lady was livid, furious, and Jack talking back, even if mildly in her book, aggravated the lady. Plus, she was drunk, but wasn't that her first drink since coming in? Maybe she couldn't hold her liquor. Or she already had other drinks earlier. Either way, it wasn't going well.

Her eyes widened when she saw her taking a sharp object to herself. Oh she wasn't that insane, was she?

Slice.

Apparently she was!

Tancredi sighed and raised a free hand to pinch the bridge of her nose between her eyes, “Oh not another one...” she muttered softly under her breath, “...cain't them Theurgy cowpokes handle a li'l drink?!?”

Other than that movement, Tancredi moved little more even as the bloodied item was slid over, only for Deacon to smack a paw on it. Well good for him. Then he handed the lady a first aid kit. Earlier, when he slid the bottle of Kanar which Jack asked for in her direction, she'd smoothly caught it without even turning or looking. Simply moving her hand to grasp it, and pour herself some more. Now she moved the same hand to pour Jack a drink. It was cool, if a little silly to move so little and do all this, but if she didn't spill, then she had the whole look of a cowgirl down pat. But that aside, she was really thinking everything through, and after taking a sip...and barely stifling a cringe, she finally turned her head and looked over at Jack.

“Ah would stop at dis poahnt,” said Tancredi privately to him, though the catman could probably hear her, if those ears of his are anything to go by, “dat woman's blasted.”

Any other day, if the Resolve was still functioning, and if Captain Kendrick were here, very likely, she'd have been fighting the woman already, and being read up on it later then confined to quarters. But she had no quarters, and she couldn't afford to be imprisoned even for a moment, so she refrained from her basic instincts. She placed the bottle between herself and Jack. “To sahns, and to theories.”

Glug.

[ Lt. JG Hi'Jak | Deck 28 | Below Decks  USS Theurgy ] Attn: Triage
[Show/Hide]
When she grabbed the knife Jack had old instincts, his hand impulsively went to his back. It was a sharp impulsive motion that clearly wasn't hiding it's self as he went to draw a weapon. A weapon that wasn't there leaving Jack to touch his back and find not the handle of what he was seeking but rather the cloth of his uniform.

~~
StarBase84 | Jack's former Personal Quarters ]

A security team was sweeping through the room of the Half Klingon, the man had gone missing during the day's events and his quarters had been opened to investigations. The room was a mess, the bed had been torn open as if someone had scrambled for an early morning. The last Replicator order in the system was an Americano coffee, and a serving of Targ'd jerky. A quick breakfast of a man running late. On the desk was a personal consol a screen saver consisting of a young Klingon woman in what could best be described as a Pin up position, the files the team were busy digging through where labled 'letters to my sister' and were so boring that the team had ended up deleting the entire file after only a cursory read through, and perhaps most importantly on the desk next to the tactical belt that Jack had failed to put on that morning was a D'k Tahg. One of the security team picked up the long Klingon blade, and gave a chuckle. "Hey isn't it like dishonorable to loose these things?"

~~
 Deck 28 | Below Decks  USS Theurgy ]

Jack's hand recoiled slightly a single thought running through his mind of just how helpful his weapon would be if she chose to stab him, and the emence gratitude when she decided to stab herself first. He was with Krystal on this one she was crazy, and he wouldn't be pressing this issue any farther tonight. Jack Physically scooted away from the woman which put him further towards Krystal. "Yeah I'm a little more worried for my safety now, probably best if we picked smarter topics."

Jack poured himself a new drink and raised his glass to Krystal's toast. At the same time his eyes cast a worried glance towards their bar tender who was treating the mad woman's injuries. He knew this ship had been through hell from the main briefing, but now that he had seen someone in action his question was more about if everyone aboard the ship was just as crazy as her.

"I'll drink to that." Jack said raising his glass. "You know I'm kind of scared."

as he turned around to look out over the bar as Tancredi was his eyes caught the windows watching the beauty of the Azure Nebula and the deep blue of the gas cloud outside of them. "lom juS, That's the Klingon name for this place. Translates to Corpse passage, For a hundred years during the war with the Federation as boarders were defined anything that exited this pass would be destroyed. Some of our greatest military victories, and failures came from the use of this nebula. Growing up you hear the ghost stories about haunted shipyards, dead worlds and terrifying beasts that would live in these clouds."

Jack took a breath and shook his head closing his eyes, feeling them rest for a moment as he took another drink of the Kanar. He had the oddest feeling that being in this place was not going to end well for them.

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark| Below Decks | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy 01 ]

That hadn't gone quite as well as she'd expected. Still, she had apologized to the bartender - hard to think of anyone working their other than Rory, even if Edena Rez had done so after Rory's passing - but here he was, no use in trying to argue. She seemed to have shut up the doubter and his pilot friend as well, so she'd take the victory. Perhaps the willingness on Natalie's part to prove him wrong had been enough for him.

Perhaps he's just written you off as a loon. Good job, Nat, she reprimanded herself. No matter, she silently decided. She would not apologize to the younger officer (she assumed younger, she had no idea). If he wanted to play the fool then so be it. Someone would have to be alerted though - if not that this man had his doubts, then that the rumor was going around. Replaced by the ships AI? What a crock.

Sighing quietly she opened the first aid kit and withdrew an autosuture. She was no medic but she had enough skill to knit the skin back together. The device hummed quietly, the light at the diode flaring a bit as the beam pulled flesh back into place, sealing the cut and leaving her skin bloodstained. This, she took care of with a few antiseptic wipes, dropping them into a self sealing disposal bag. And then she took a long, slow pull from her glass, draining it.

"Thank you, again," she quietly addressed the bartender. "Do you mind if I have another?" She asked, pointing to the bottle he'd left on the bar, then the glass, wanting to check first. She had over heard him talking about dwindling stocks.

[ Deacon | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: Triage, Kaligos, Brutus

Deacon took a deep breath, pleased that he'd managed to diffuse the situation before it lead to another pride war.  He'd already been forced to untangle an assault in the halls earlier and he wasn't even responsible for the halls.  The outraged female had returned to her prior state of calm and tended her self-inflicted wound with a certain introspective silence that Deacon felt the situation warranted.

"Thank you, again," she quietly addressed the bartender. "Do you mind if I have another?" She asked, pointing to the bottle he'd left on the bar, then the glass, wanting to check first.

He considered the bottle and weighed whether the situation could bear the addition of more alcohol.  Would this add fuel to the flame or douse the fires further.  Carefully, he turned and lifted the bottle, refilling the glass.  "I suppose at this point, we will either make due with what we have or we will have a ship full of very sober, very angry people."  He considered the thought with some amusement.  Perhaps that was the heart of the kzinti problem... they didn't properly appreciate inebriation.

Stretching, he continued, "Given the events I've witnessed this night alone, I have to wonder whether such circumstances are more the norm, or merely the result of everyone being battle-worn and perhaps a little... what's the phrase?  Punch drunk?"

Sorting the scattered medical supplies, he lifted the first aid kit and returned it to its station before retrieving a rag from a nearby rack.  He wiped down the bar where the blood had been smeared along with the misty after effect of her incredulous spit take.  "The ship's avatar provided me with access for the night, but I suppose monitoring the stocks falls to whomever gets assigned permanent duty.  I was advised that such an assignment comes from..." he considered, turning his eyes upward and rolling his ears back, ".. Stark?  Yes, Stark.  I suppose I shall have to make an appointment with him after I speak with the Quartermaster."

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark| Below Decks | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy 01 ]

Appreciating that the furred man seemed content to allow her another glass- as unwise as perhaps that was, seeing how she'd already acted - Natalie watching him pour, watched the deep color fill the glass again, and smelled the sweet aroma wafting up from the crystal. It wobbled in the glass, not quite sloshing, then settled, and Natalie drew it in slowly, inhaling again (as she'd seen on many a holo, as she wasn't a practiced aficionado) and savored the moment. Push a bit of that spite away, she thought to herself.

"I suppose at this point, we will either make due with what we have or we will have a ship full of very sober, very angry people."  Something passed over the mans features as he spoke, and not being an expert in his species, Natalie couldn't quite be sure, but she thought he was amused. She continued to listen as she stretched, took his words, using him as a better reason to ignore the doubter and the pilot.

"Given the events I've witnessed this night alone, I have to wonder whether such circumstances are more the norm, or merely the result of everyone being battle-worn and perhaps a little... what's the phrase? Punch drunk?"

Frowning a bit, in thought, not displeasure, Natalie chose her next words carefully (or as carefully as she was currently capable of. "Despite what some might think," she began, a quick glance down the bar, keeping her voice low, "This crew believes in its mission. For months, we've been on the run, trying to do the right thing. That right thing....was broadcasting the truth of what had happened to the Federation. To Starfleet." She sipped her drink and sighed, staring into it. In its murky depths she could see the Orcus flames reaching out into space, snuffed away as the oxygen that fed them dissipated in the hard vacuum. Shivering, she looked back at the bartender.

"We Failed. We were usurped, our message corrupted, and here we are, trying to stay alive again after our best chance of warning the galaxy fell apart around us. This is what happens when good men and women give their best, full measure, and our found lacking." She tipped the glass up, taking a long pull, leaving it half empty after words, her head slightly fuzzy in the wake.  Far too insightful for your own good, Nat.

The operations chief began to feel hope when the makeshift bartender changed the subject slightly, focusing on the bar itself, and who would run it. Yes, that dragged up a brief memory of blond hair, bright eyes and a soulful voice that had threatened to steal her heart before it fell to the sharp knife of a crazed guard. There was no denying that loss of what might have been. But well...

"... Stark? Yes, Stark. I suppose I shall have to make an appointment with him after I speak with the Quartermaster." She giggled. God help her, she covered her mouth and giggled.

"Oh my," she managed, her head tipping forward, the brown locks spilling around her shoulders, brushing the bar top. She could see herself in the polished reflection. It seemed she was able to smile after all.

"Thank you," Nat knew she had to be sounding a little crazy and a little buzzed (a lot buzzed). "Oh, but I needed that." Squaring her shoulders she swept her hair back over the right one, exposing two golden pips and a darkened one. "I think your appointment started the moment you poured that drink." Seeing confusion on his face, Natalie placed both her hands on the counter top, crossed at the wrist. A finger reached out the stroke the stem of the wineglass. "Lieutenant Commander Natalie Stark, Chief of Operations. At your service."

[ Deacon | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: Triage, Kaligos, Brutus

The surly female with the propensity for self-inflicted wounds and sweet wines was the person he needed to speak to about a permanent assignment.  Of course she was.  That did seem to be rather the norm for his day.  First the female on the bridge, then the captain, and now this one -- even the avatar!  For all he knew, the drunk, horny woman from earlier was probably a fleet admiral looking to expand her harem.  Were men even allowed into positions of authority in Starfleeet?  Or was it just this ship?  Could that be the reason it was rogue?  He struggled for a moment to recall how many males had been in command on the starbase.  No, this ship had to be the outlier in that equation.

Fortunately, his face remained steadfastly unreadable even as his thoughts whirled chaotically in the back of his mind.  She had even laughed.  Was it condescension or amusement?  Females were so hard to read which was long cited as one of the strengths the monkeys had maintained over the kzinti-- one of the very reasons why his people had lost so soundly in every encounter.

He refocused his gaze, clearing his throat awkwardly.  And here he had just yelled at this female.  True it had been intended for all present, but did she take it personally?  Was she laughing at the prospect of some vengeance now that she had the power?  She was going to have him spaced.  He was certain of it.  He'd crossed a line somehow and he was going to be spaced.

"I am..." he cleared his throat again, "Deacon."  Perhaps he should apologize?  Would that be a sign of weakness?  He might lose face in front of the klingon.  It would be so much easier to challenge them all to honor duels, at least then the worst that could happen would be his death.  Better to die once for real than suffer a thousand mental knives from doubt and self recrimination.  No, he did what he felt was necessary.  He would do it again. This vessel needed some semblance of order and even if it was here and here alone, he felt he could enforce that order.

"Well... then... I suppose I should ask if there's a more sustainable supply of intoxicants?"  Smooth change of topic.  Expose neither the throat nor the flank, he congratulated himself.  "Regular supply runs?"

[Lieutenant Keval ch'Rayya | Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attention: Everyone/Anyone

After a day like today, Keval knew only one thing;

He needed a drink.

Even with everything that had happened around him, Keval was still trying to process everything that had happened from the loss of their home of the last few years to suddenly being on the run from an extremely hostile alien force that had taken over the very organization that he had served for the past couple of decades of his life.

The main thing on his mind at that moment, the only bright spot, was his hope that the crew..namely the pilot..of the small ship that he helped prior to him having to evacuate from the Resolve to the Theurgy during their brief period of docking before everything else went to pot and he hoped that they managed to survive after all of the death of the day.

The Chan tried to force the thought out of his head as he headed towards the bar and looked at the person behind it. "Hello..this might be a bit strange but can I get something nice and hard along with a glass of water..I don't care what it is as long as it's not wine please." he asked in a respectable tone.

[ Ens. Krystal "Meony" Tancredi (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Krystal_Tancredi,_callsign_%22Meony%22) | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: Lt. JG Hi'Jak, Deacon & Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark

[Show/Hide]Tancredi didn't miss how Jack reached behind him like he was going for a weapon when the lady had taken a knife to herself. Of course, in her unpredictable state, the redhead likely would have reached for a weapon herself, except it was all taken from her! URGH! Talk about frustrating! Seemed like he was in the same boat with her, but of course, the whole thing turned to nothing. The woman wanted to prove she was not a hologram. Well she supposed she and Jack talking as freely as they did brought about the whole thing, but thankfully, it was now over, and as Jack raised his glass in agreement with her toast, she smiled easily at him, and then lost that smile just as quickly.

Sure, he was half-Klingon, but she wasn't sure whether it would be considered strange for him to admit to fear. “Uh...” was all she could think to say at that point.

She drank a bit more from her glass. It sort of grew on you...the taste. Or maybe beggars couldn't be choosers. Then she looked at it again, idly reaching up to lightly feel the newly sealed wound in her head. The faces of her fellow crewmates from the Resolve appeared to her, especially those no longer with the living. Captain Kendrick she still counted amongst the living, but those that she saw dying, that she heard Havenborn sending out to assist the Theurgy in a desperate battle that just went sideways so fast...she came to, and remembered that she was still in Below Decks. She was so very tempted to take at least half the contents in the bottle, and share the other half with Jack, but...she ultimately chose not to.

Not for now, she told herself. She felt she had a duty now to those of the Resolve. Like it or not, though they were essentially of the Theurgy, she had a feeling inside, that they'd always be part of the Resolve a ship that was no more. Jien Ives seemed like a good captain, and well intentioned, but the caution was given, and she'd watch him/her with a careful eye for a long time to come. He would just have to accept that the crew of the Resolve won't let go of their bonds to one another easily, and likely there will be tensions and frictions for a long time to come. No, she would have to be, ironically, resolute, and sharp. That meant she had to go easy on her drinks. Fortunately she could hold her liquor quite well, and despite having had some prior and possibly after this moment, she was confident if she took it easy, she could stay relatively sharp. Plus she was sure the doctors here had the sobering solubles.

And she finally came back to Jack, who was just explaining what the Azure Nebula is to his people, and what it meant. She remembered something from the old man on Earth who taught her how to survive and about honour. “Ah ain't dismissin' yer peopahl's beliefs, y'hear?” said Tancredi, “but Ah'm sure a great lot'o dat's cockamamie hogwash t'hide th'real threats. Ah mean lahk der's probably a grain o'truth to dem tall tales, but intermixed with more random stahf until ya cain't tell da truth from da lie.” She studied the nebula beyond. Oh there was danger all right, and she was going to put herself between it and her family.

“Whatever comes outta there,” said Tancredi, “if it ain't friendly, Ah'll shoot it. Simple. And if ya fancy, ya can study whatever Ah leave behahnd.”

She spotted Keval ch'Rayya entering and grinned, raising her glass to him, “Blueskin! Suh! Trah some Kanar! It grows on ya.” She flashed her friend a wolfish grin.

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark| Below Decks | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy 01 ]

It didn't take years of counseling training for Natalie to pick up the hesitation in the alien's voice as he worked through implications. Oh, his face was perfectly stoic. But Natalie hadn't been fooled. He - Deacon - had put two and tow together and found the result not quite what he'd hoped it to be. But he was trying, bless him. And he had provided her with something to make the day a bit easier. So she could go easy on him, she supposed.

Taking his question seriously, mulling it around, Natalie took a slow sip of the wine. "We obtained a hefty supply from the USS Harbinger when we were on Theta...well, when we were able to catch our collective breathes," Before that damned hellship caught up with us, she thought darkly. It showed on her face and she forced it away, the grumpiness from before starting to bubble up again. "We may still have some stocks in one of the cargo bays. Cargo bay..." she paused, having to think a bit harder than she thought she should, "4? Or 5. One of those."

A small giggle slipped out again and she frowned at it, hiding it with a mouthful of the wine. Before she could say anything else, an Andorian saddled up to the bar and snagged Deacons attention. She frowned a bit at that, thinking of pulling rank, but then stopping herself. She was off duty. Why, she thought, should i give a fuck?

No sooner had the crass conclusion settled into her mind than she heard the pilot speak up, and her shoulders tensed, tightly. Blueskin and pinkskin had been slurs thrown back and forth between Humans and Andorians since Captain Archer first encountered the antenna bearing race in the 2160's. It set her teeth on edge, hearing it now, but if she could understand the thick accent of the pilot, she also addressed the Andorian "Sir." Shooting a dark look at the redhead, Natalie forced her eyes down to her drink, unknowingly starting to tap her foot on the floor.

Clearly they knew each other, which meant they were like as not both from the Resolve. She could deduce that much, given the patch on the pilots arm. All the same, it irked her sensibilities to hear such things, and to a superior officer. Clearly, discipline on that ship was lacking, after three years on the run. I'll have to talk to Cinn, warn him to keep an eye out for it. Why can't the all be polite like the fuzzy bartender?

[Lieutenant Keval ch'Rayya | Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attention: Everyone/Anyone

Keval was waiting for the barkeep to reply when he heard Krystal's words but he winced at the word "Blueskin" before turning to face the red-haired pilot, a little bit of his accent creeping into his tone which wasn't a common thing as it only came out under certain conditions like when he was under a lot of stress and it was mentioned by a late member of his department months ago that he sounded like he was from some place called "Blackpool" in England on Earth.

"Krystal, you know I respect you a lot and consider you a close friend..but you know how much I don't like the use of that term." he stated in a gentle yet firm and honest tone to Krystal. "Plus Kanar..it's an acquired taste much like that Nuka Cola stuff, but I'll have a glass in a bit if you will?"

Keval then ran a hand through his hair as an attempt to start hopefully stop stressing when he noticed the human that was standing next to him and her expression. "Sorry, wasn't trying to be rude miss...it's been a bit of a day." he offered up with a polite smile before inclining his head towards her. "Lieutenant Keval ch'Rayya..late of the Resolve."

[ Deacon | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: Triage, Kaligos, Brutus, DocReno

"We obtained a hefty supply from the USS Harbinger when we were on Theta...well, when we were able to catch our collective breaths.  We may still have some stocks in one of the cargo bays. Cargo bay...4? Or 5. One of those," she'd said before letting slip another giggle, prompting Deacon to roll his ears back slightly, wondering if perhaps she'd seen through his hesitation and attempts at deflection.  Those devious female monkeys, they would be the death of him.

"Hello..this might be a bit strange but can I get something nice and hard along with a glass of water..I don't care what it is as long as it's not wine please."

Deacon turned to regard the andorian, wondering if, for a moment if this had been the one he'd assisted earlier.  As with humans, most andorians tended to look alike to him.  In truth, if not for the blue skin and antennae, the might as well be humans so far as he was concerned.  He supposed he would have to work on this culturally imposed aphasia or he'd end up spending the remainder of his tenure here calling everyone by someone else's name.  Ironic that he could know so many of their languages but so little of their people.

He looked over at the pair with the bottle of kanar.  "At the moment, that is likely the 'hardest' item available," he stated, before giving a sideward eye back towards the female called Stark, "until someone is able to get me access to cargo bay 4 or 5."  His attention remained on her long enough to see if she would outright dismiss the idea or not, before he finally turned to the replicator and produced a glass of cold water from the open receptacle and placed it, along with an empty glass for the kanar, in front of the new comer.

Standing back, he folded his arms across his chest and assessed the group.  "If I knew to expect this much activity this late, I would have examined the pantry tonight instead of waiting for the morning."  He found it gave him comfort to simply forge ahead with the belief that his position was assured, although he did continue to cast appraising looks back at Stark, half expecting her to cut him short at any second.

[ Lt. JG Hi'Jak | Deck 28 | Below Decks  USS Theurgy ] Attn: Triage
[Show/Hide]
"Oh it's less superstition and more the fact that on the Klingon side of this thing we set up a minefield during the hundred year war, and then we lost track of it. It was swallowed by the nebula due to the gravimetric shifts that occurred when... well near the end of the war." Jack shrugged slightly as he looked out across the haze of blue. It was pretty in a way, but also very deadly. As if the gas pockets weren't enough.

Taking up his glass he smiled though when Krystal spoke about her plans to protect the ship, and let him analyze the results. He got a chuckle out of that.  When she called the Andorian a blueskin he looked at Tancredi like she was a little bit crazy, i mean he already knew that part but still.

Clearly this was one of the people from the resolve, which was odd, and slightly out casting to realize that even though Jack was a part of the crew he was always going to be pushed aside. Not really part of any other crew. Only one other person aboard had been a member of the Starbase.

Needing a bit of a pick me up from that thought he slammed back the rest of the Kanar and poured himself another drink. What was more the Andorian never even so much as addressed him going for another woman, the one that had traded cuts earlier.

"Friend of yours?" He asked looking to Tancredi part of him wondering what their relationship status was. Not that he could really butt into that conversation and throw in his two cents.

"Hi." He said waving over at the new comer. "Names Jack."

He was trying his best to ignore Natalie and Deacon at the moment  if only because he didn't need anything more from the bar, and the woman was crazy. With the newcommer out of his way his primary focus once again became Tancredi. "So do you have your quarters set  up for the night? And if I can be blunt, can I stay in them cause I have already been told that junior officer quarters are gonna take a while, as the quartermaster needs to give signatures for those. I would offer my bed to you, if I had one."

[ Ens. Krystal "Meony" Tancredi (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Krystal_Tancredi,_callsign_%22Meony%22) | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: Lt. JG Hi'Jak, Deacon, Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark & Lt. Keval ch'Rayya

[Show/Hide]“All raht, if dat's what ya want,” said Tancredi evenly, her tone and gaze a little unreadable, if a little affected by what alcohol was in her system. She turned and searched around for a glass, and poured out some Kanar from the bottle in her hand, then handed it to the Andorian, then filled her own glass. The stuff did grow on you.

“Well if that ain't lovely,” said Tancredi to Jack, “Ya Klingon sahd sure don't do anythin' half assed, do they?”

She grinned at Jack and shook her head as she resumed her leaning posture against the bar. “Lieutenant Keval ch'Rayya,” she answered Jack's question, and spoke loudly enough to get the Andorian's attention. “Only one'a da best tactical officers this sahd o'th' universe. Lieutenant, meet Jack. Jack, meet da Lieutenant.”

Introductions were unnecessarily made, and Tancredi was done in that area. She smiled and turned her head to regard the half-Klingon consideringly. She liked him, and he seemed a nice fellow, but she technically knew him only half a day. It took her months to a year to fully open up to anyone on the Resolve.

Ah what the hell; he's cute and she's still wearing armour. If that wasn't a detterent...

“Ah do, an' ya sure can, sugah.”

Maybe she was a little drunk too. That helped.

“Sahds, Ah could use da company.” that was also true. She hated being alone, and she was not a fan of sleeping in the dark. Captain Kendrick knew her fear and insecurities and never forced her to put out lights even if power conservation became necessary. Risky but an appreciated gesture. But this new crew and captain might not be so friendly or tolerant. And they had a fuckin' sentient ship! No. She would risk the company if nothing other than the comfort of a warm body and safety in numbers.

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark| Below Decks | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy 01 ]Atten: @steelphoenix , @Triage , @Kaligos , @DocReno 

Natalie listened to the Andorian, and the Knzit, letting everything they said to her, and each other, bounce around - slosh around - in her mind. She staved off any reply as she sipped her drink and really let things brew a bit. The Andorian seemed quite used to the pilots antics, if a bit upset about them. She heard the shift in tone, the change of accent. Lieutenant Keval ch'Rayya - tactical officer. Where, she wondered, would he end up? As Thea's new tactical officer, freeing up some of Trent's responsibility? Or some other position. She didn't know, but her gut told her she'd find out sooner or later. Probably at the staff meeting n the morning.

A meeting she was not looking forward to. Not after all they had been through. With that souring thought in her mind, she took another long pull of her drink and, to the Andorian, finally answered. "I'm Lieutenant Commander Natalie Stark. Theurgy's Chief of Operations. Welcome aboard, and my condolences," she tried to keep her tone pleasant, offering her right (and undamaged) hand to the Androian, curious to see how he'd respond to that. And at the same time, she shot the 'bartender a long look, contemplative. It was easy enough to do - they were both in front of her.

"If you'll give me just a moment, Lieutenant," She began, "Mr. Deacon," she finally addressed him fully, mulling over the storm of feelings in her gut. She hadn't been involved in replacing Rory with Edena Rez. But it appeared that she was going to be involved in replacing the slain Trill. For a moment, she could picture Edena, collapsed on the back of the bridge, before being whisked away in a swirl of light. All of that passed in the barest of pauses as Natalie continued. "It is clear that you have set up shop here, and have an interest in seeing the lounge well run." Thats it Nat, keep your head cool, nice and slow, don't trip over your own words,

"As it stands, we have a vacancy, as you've likely noticed," One last pause, then, "Computer." A beep from overhead, "Grant access to Cargo bays....Four and Five, to Mr. Deacon. Additionally, log him as current proprietor, Below Decks, under provisional status. Authorization Stark, Two-Beta-Sierra-Zero-Nine." Her throat suddenly dry, she took another pull of the wine. It made her head a bit fuzzy, but settled her nerves.

"There. That should be sufficient. Consider yourself on a trial run, Mr. Deacon," she glanced around the room, "I'm sure that I can get plenty of feedback from my fellow customers, as needed." She gave him what she hoped to be an easy going smile, then turned her gaze slightly to the right, back to the Andorian.

"Now, where were we, Lieutenant?"

[ Deacon | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Triage , @Kaligos , @Brutus , @DocReno 

"Mr. Deacon, it is clear that you have set up shop here, and have an interest in seeing the lounge well run," the one called Stark said, addressing him in the midst of greeting the andorian.  Mister Deacon?  What was this monkey fascination with affixing 'mister' in front of anything that seemed to be a name, whether it was or wasn't?  Should he take to calling her Miss Lieutenant Commander?  The thought was vaguely amusing, but only passably so. 

"As it stands, we have a vacancy, as you've likely noticed."  He had deduced that much when he happened to find one crew member downing multiple bottles of alcohol within mere minutes of his having boarded the ship.  Without someone to enforce some level of control, it seemed most likely that the crew would drain the lounge of all vital resources within the week, and then they'd be starving, sober and surly... three things that never seemed to suit any species well, let alone one so haggard and bedeviled by their own kind.

"Computer, grant access to Cargo bays... Four and Five, to Mr. Deacon. Additionally, log him as current proprietor, Below Decks, under provisional status. Authorization Stark, Two-Beta-Sierra-Zero-Nine."  Provisional?  Did she expect that he might somehow fail at this task?  Or was she, perhaps, hoping for someone more desirous to come along and usurp the position from him?  Trying to understand a female -- especially a monkey female -- was maddening to say the least.  She seemed conflicted and yet did her best to remain professional and detached.

"There. That should be sufficient. Consider yourself on a trial run, Mr. Deacon," she stated, adding, "I'm sure that I can get plenty of feedback from my fellow customers, as needed."  She then flashed her teeth at him.  He folded back his ears.  Was that a threat?  Was she mocking him now?  It would have been easier if she'd just gone along and allowed his assumption to remain intact.  And now she bared her teeth?  No... no... that's a human thing.  They call it a smile.  It was intended to show pleasure.  So did that mean she was pleased with him?  Was she attempting a mating display?  Stop... stop... he was overthinking again.  She had complied with his wishes, whether provisional or otherwise.  Anything else was superfluous.

"Your... confidence in my abilities is noted," he said, as sincerely as possible, despite the maelstrom of confusion in his thoughts.  He considered attempting a smile of his own, but on reflection, there was no way he could make that look anything less than awkward and risked an incident of miscommunication in the process.  No, best to remain stoic.  "Thank you," he added, realizing that some sort of conclusion was necessary, and a statement of appreciation seemed proper.

He was truly thankful, though, when she she turned her attention back to he andorian.

[ Lt. JG Hi'Jak | Deck 28 | Below Decks  USS Theurgy ] Attn: @steelphoenix  , @Triage , @Brutus  , @DocReno  
[Show/Hide]
Jack couldn't help the smile that came across his face as Meony seemed to accept the offer of escorting him back to her quarters for the night. He had to admit that he was a complete sucker for a lady in armor, so this was probably going to end up being rather fun. To celebrate he tipped his glass of Kanar back and finished the lot of it sending a shiver up and down his spine as he drank.

"Oh I should probably say this before someone accuses me of being dishonest or something. There's another woman I started seeing earlier today as well, and come morning I'll be telling her about you. It's simpler if everyone just knows I'm poly rather than accusing me of having random affairs."

In such matters it was often better to ask forgiveness rather than permission, but it was also proper to inform the people you were with. In this regard Jack usually had a few rules set up, or at least that had been the way of things back in the academy, during his stay on 84 he had practically been a monk for how celibate he had been.

Of course agreeing to spending company didn't mean that there was an emotional connection, he had no way of knowing how Krystal actually felt about him, and his thoughts didn't extend past the fact's he knew about her. Atractive, fun to drink with, and good in a fire fight, perhaps a little crazy, but that crazyness had some cuteness  woven into it.

Oh and a damn sexy accent. Even if he couldn't exactly understand every word she was saying he could get enough to know that he liked her way of articulation.

So yeah he liked her, but he wasn't really sure where that would go. "Anyway, if your good with that you can imagine I don't come with strings attached. Whenever you're ready to lead me to your place I will be ready to follow."

[ Ens. Krystal "Meony" Tancredi (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Krystal_Tancredi,_callsign_%22Meony%22) | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Kaligos, @steelphoenix, @Brutus & @DocReno

[Show/Hide]"Poly...?" She bit her lip before she could add a "What?" to the end of that sentence. Because she was sure it meant something to him. But damned if she knew. "Well if ya ain't just the cutest boah Ah met!" She covered it up with a room brightening smile and a quick adjustment of her hat. Besides, he'd given her his own thousand-watt smile when she accepted and invited him to bunk with her.

"Ya don't need t'tell me, sugah," said Tancredi, "who you wanna be with is no business o'mahn."

Basically true, but that didn't mean she didn't appreciate his candor, as her smile and the tender look in her eyes said. The wild-eyed look returned shortly after, and she fished out the steel spork she'd replicated earlier, twirling it skillfully between her fingers a moment, before slipping it back into a sheath of sorts where one of her knives used to go into. She finished the Kanar in her glass, and placed it on the bar, leaving the bottle there for anyone to grab. "Honesty's a good thing...sometahms," it wasn't clear if she was saying that to Jack, or to herself, or to no one in particular, "but fibs have them uses too...sometahms...c'mon sugah. Ah've got a fancy place."

She tossed the others a casual salute, giving the woman who cut her hand a sharp, but brief, look, before leaving. Once they were at the turbolifts, she started practicing her pronunciation, "Dieck aight. Duck ape. Dehck ay-et."

[ Deacon | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Triage , @Kaligos , @Brutus , @DocReno  

Deacon watched the encounter between Jack and the female as he made his confession regarding his interest in yet another.  When the female questioned the term he'd used to describe his romantic proclivity, Deacon nearly opened his mouth to offer an explanation, but opted instead to remain silent until the two went to part from the lounge.

As the door closed behind them, he turned and looked back and the andorian and the one called Stark, his expression skewed slightly to the side in thought. "I must ask," he began at last, "if it is normal for so many amorous encounters to be initiated in this place."  He folded his arms, tilting his head in the opposite direction, his gaze vaguely on Stark as he continued.  "Moreover, is this a behavior that I should be encouraging?"

He paused and then focused solidly on those present.  "Don't misunderstand.  Male kzinti with the honor of breeding often keep harems to carry on their family line.  The rest... well... the rest find other methods to work out their issues.  I suppose it's better than needing a pit in the center of the lounge for ritual dueling."

Another awkward pause filled the room.  "That is to say, I suppose that human females are considered equals and can initiate mating if they so choose, but it would seem there are times and places for such things... unless human females are slave to their cycle?" 

His golden eyes had unintentionally settled directly on Stark as he spoke, subconsciously assigning the question of whether certain activities should be encouraged or discouraged as part of his duties, but instead coinciding with his thoughts on menstruation.  Somewhere beneath his fur, his skin flushed, and he turned quickly to face the opposite direction, his numb hand nearly slapping him soundly in the face as he rushed to obscure his embarrassment.  "And on that note, I shall be over here..."

[Lieutenant Keval ch'Rayya | Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attention: Everyone/Anyone

Keval actually couldn't help but to wince when he heard that the Kanar was at present the hardest drink available as he didn't have a taste for it like his fellow sibling in Baal (he still wondered why people laughed at his brother for his name) had for the Cardassian drink.

"In that case, may I request a jack and coke please?" Keval asked respectfully before he turned back to the human officer.

But before he could say anything further, she spoke with the Kzinti and mentioned something about him being on a trial run for running the bar that they were presently in before turning back to him.  "Just introductions, ma'am. You'll have to forgive some of us, we went from being in one exodus across the 'verse and into another one so some things became slightly.." he said.

Keval then picked up on the small details of the human that he was talking with originally and saw that one of her hands was damaged slightly and while his eyes did track it to make sure it didn't come to harm in case she had a little to much to drink, his grandshen did teach him properly after all,  and gave her a bit of an honest smile. "So, has it been as busy for you all as it has been for us?" he asked in a warm and honest manner.

[ Dr. Silim Parnak & Drauc T'Laus | Crew Quarters | USS Theurgy ] Joint post with Auctor Lucan. Attn: @Brutus @DocReno @steelphoenix Anyone

Silim Parnak was about ready for bed. It had been a long day so far and the experience on Theurgy had left much to be desired.

The queue for rooms had been insufferable. For hours he stood, between two rather unruly members of Resolve with a need to try to speak through Silim to each other. He had joined directly after leaving the meeting in the Fighter Assault Bay. Having seen the video footage of that human – Acreth, for a second time, he knew his plan was perfect. He’d just need to enact it.

When it came time to get his room assignment, Silim had been happy to tell the Quartermaster of who he was and the level of his status, only to be met with a dense stare in return. It had taken too long to explain to the pakled in human form that he was not from Resolve or Orcus and that he was not a Starfleet officer. Eventually a room assignment was given, and alongside a PADD with directions, Silim had been issued a new Starfleet combadge.

All in all, he was looking forward to getting in, dimming the lights, turning up the temperature and just enjoying a relaxing evening in his own space. Federation facilities were always too bright and too cold.

At the threshold, Silim took a breath and allowed himself a smirk. It was time. This would be his home for the however long he remained on Theurgy. His study, his haven, his shelter, his sanctum. The excitement was almost palpable. He pressed the button on the side panel and when the doors parted, he just could not believe what he saw.

It was a small room, by any standard, and the space was occupied by a small work station, a miniscule sitting area, two doors. Where there might have been promise in that, it was clear that only one of the doors were for Parnak. The other belonged to the figure seated in front of him, backlit by the Azure Nebula, with pointed ears and dark, red hair as dirty as his threadbare cloak. Had not the surgical scars on his forehead belied it, one might have thought him Vulcan, but they knew each other. It was a Romulan seated there, dominating the small, shared room with his presence more than with the fact of his physical body. His name was Drauc T'Laus, and he did not stand to greet the snake that had entered the room.

"So you managed to stay alive," he rasped, only his lips moving - eyes unblinking as they stared at the exobiologist through the tresses before his eyes. Unsmiling, there was no amiability from Drauc, just a statement of a fact, and a trivial one at that. The only small gratitude in the aftermath was that the snake was likely keen to mask his mind from Drauc's cursed abilities, allowing the Romulan the respite of not knowing the Cardassian's petty schemes. "It seems they have grouped us by previous affiliation... and the two of us came aboard from Starbase 84."

“Apparently so.” Silim replied, ensuring his mental defences were, in fact, in place. He had no desire to let this broken little Romulan run freely through his mind. Silently he cursed the quartermaster. Apparently, the gormless look on their face when Parnak explained his needs was not just an expression, but a sign of the quality of mind that lived within. Oh, how he would like to wring their neck right about now. Not only did the company leave much to be desired, but the room was nothing like what he requested. Drab, tiny and completely and utterly Starfleet. If Silim wasn’t one of the self-proclaimed scientific geniuses of the Cardassian Union, he might have been tempted to end it all, there and then.

“Don’t get up.” He told Drauc. He wouldn’t be long, just enough to ensure the room was completely ill-equipped. Silim stalked from the center room across to one of the bedrooms and peered inside. It was just as he feared. Suitable heads needed to roll and Silim’s mind whirred through calculations on how to get what it was he desired. Meanwhile, as he returned towards the entrance, his new ‘Roommate’ continued to blather.

Drauc still didn't rise, but not out of disrespect. He was resting his limbs from the battle, since the patch-work of dermal regenerators did not necessarily treat the soreness, each blow still felt from the strikes he'd sustained whilst fighting Captain Hawthorne. He still wore his own blood from the fight, dried into his cloak. "Considering how different our accommodations must have been on the base... I need not read your mind to see the disappointment in your face." Sitting as still as he was, only his eyes moving to follow the snake, Drauc's damaged voice was all that seemed to indicate he was alive. "For me, this is better than Lietuenant Dotnhil's brig, so I have no complaints... I don't mind sharing, as long as you take no interest in my condition, and try to treat me like that solus bat you lost. That would, mildly put... be quite unwise."

Ignoring the obvious rise the Romulan was trying to get, Silim finished his circuit of the room. Once by the door, he turned and stared back at the figure holding the centre of the communal area.

“Of all the wonders this ship and crew possess, believe me when I say this. You do not even grace the middle of my list.”

With little left to say, he left.

---

[ Dr. Silim Parnak (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Silim_Parnak) | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ]
[Show/Hide]
The search for space had been fruitless for some time. Initially he requested for a list of social and relaxation facilities from the computer. The list had been short in comparison to Starbase 84, there was no cafés, no theatres, no bowling alleys, but there were lounge rooms. He had attempted to enter one labelled ‘Spearhead’ but although interesting sounding, he had been denied entry. Another thing to add to the catalogue of grievances and slights.

In the end, the arboretum had been sufficient for his needs, a quiet place in which he could collect his thoughts and plan. Which he did just that. In the serene surroundings, he managed to put things into order, twisting and moulding schemes to fit his desires. All it would take was a message and a message he had created, meticulously planning to try to ensure it be of interest. Now he need just wait and see if the pieces would fall into place. Hopefully, he would get Ives eating from his hand.

Now, it was time to celebrate. Or at least, congratulate himself on a plan well-conceived and to avoid going back to see what Drauc had been up to with their quarters in the meantime. He wouldn’t be surprised to find the Romulan playing with environment controls and changing all the panels from Federation standard. He shuddered at the thought, living within Starfleet’s bland grey boxes was bad enough, certainly a splash of green would not help.

Silim had consulted the computer again and had been given the location to a lounge where not only he would be able to enter, but there was also alcoholic beverages present. The doors parted with their usual hiss and inside there seemed suitable signs of activity. With no desire to cause a ruckus at the bar, Parnak headed over to a table and took a seat. Please, oh please, let there be table service.

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Below Decks | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy 01 ]Atten: @DocReno @steelphoenix @Arista

[Show/Hide]
Tracing her finger around the bottom of her wineglass, Natalie gave a small nod, and whispered a quiet, "You're welcome," to Deacon. She could only hope that she wouldn't come to regret assigning the man to Edena's old post - to Rory's bar - but the fact was they clearly needed someone there, and he was the first to volunteer. Whether or not he would remain would, of course, depend on his performance, as well as Commander Trent's approval.

Her most recent annoyance seemed to be leaving in the company of the pilot from the Resolve which suddenly have her evening looking up. Why the redhead was holstering a ....spork? was a bit beyond Natalie, and there was a small part of the Ops Chief that wondered did I really see that? Or have I had too much to drink? She knew she didn't imagine the biting look that the pilot shot her direction, and Natalie's expression went blank. Just a small dip of her head. So be it. The pilot was wary of her. Natalie couldn't decide if it should matter or not, and in the end, she chose not to care. The pilot had poor taste in bedfellows but she was getting that twit out of Natalie's hair, so really, she could dismiss the look.

Besides, it looked like the Tactical officer cared far more about this than she did. Natalie picked right up on the way the Andorian's hand slowly curled into a fist, and her mind began to race, swerving from one thought to the next. Was he simply over protective, or did he know something about the scientist worth worrying over? Was he jealous? Did have have feelings for the pilot? Did he not trust Klingons? so many reasons why he might act that way.

He has a nice smile though, she allowed as his antenna swung back a bit, and he returned his gaze to her. Giving as good as she got, Natalie smiled right back, as if a weight were lifting from her shoulders. The duo had left. "The past few months, perhaps. Before that...busy in different way's, I imagine." For all her disdain of the past few minutes, she certainly sympathized with the Resolve's crew, by and large. They'd been lost in space for 3 years, a horribly long distance from home, and while not as far as the fabled USS Voyager had been, the Resolve had an enemy empire standing between them, and home.

However before Natalie could elaborate on what had passed, or begin to ask some of the burning questions that had cropped up over the past half hour or so, Deacon was leaning back in, drawing her - and she assumed, Lt. ch'Rayya's attention. He clearly looked perturbed, and so Natalie took the opportunity to indulge in another mouthful of the wine, intending to savor it as she listened. But when he began to elaborate upon his confusion, delving into the details of Kzint mating habits and then his golden gaze fixed completely on her, asking about humans and cycles and....

Needless to say, that mouthful of wine proved to be a horribly embarrassing mistake, as her eyes went wide and she sputtered out a fine spray of the sweet Risan blend. Thankfully, most of it caught in the glass itself, but all the same, she'd made mess of things. Cheeks flaming red, she grabbed at a nearby napkin,covering her mouth as she coughed, choking down the last of the wine she had managed to retain.

By the time she looked up, mortified, the bartender had fled across the room, and the doors were sliding open again. She buried her face in her hands, dragged down a small breath, and then swept her hands back over her hair, pushing the long, loose locks back behind her ears. The brunette fisted her wavy hair, embarrassed to the bone by the question and her poor reaction, and shut her eyes tight, before forcing them open and glancing over at the Andorian, who sat there, patiently.

"I'm sorry," she quietly apologized, "You haven't exactly caught me at my best either, Lieutenant." He must think me as much a fool as the others did, she surmised, missing the passing of the tall Cardassian that slid into the bar, working his way past them to one of the many tables scattered about the lounge.

[ Deacon | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Arista , @Brutus , @DocReno  

Deacon tensed at the sound of Stark's rather abrupt, if somewhat expected, reaction to his unintentionally verbalized chain of thought.  For once, he was thankful at the sudden, unannounced arrival of another patron in the lounge, if only to allow him some time to recollect a small amount of dignity.  Casting a glance at the new comer, he noted the distinct cranial sculpting and scales of a cardassian.  Truly, this ship did seem to be a refuge for damn near every species in the Alpha and Beta Quadrants, but at the very least, he was confident he finally had something to offer that wouldn't warrant complaints.

Grabbing the second bottle of kanar that the others had opted against, he took hold of another clean glass and strode across to the table where the cardassian sat.  On the plus side, he was alone, which meant that he didn't have to worry about coming to grips with yet another unscheduled mating attempt.  Well, he supposed the andorian and Stark were still at the bar if the cardassian was game enough.

He placed the bottle on the table alongside the glass.  Unlike its companion, this vintage was a pale blue -- likely the result of a different fermentation process, at least that was something he'd heard once.  Truth be told, he had no way to know the difference absent some research, and while he could possibly ask his latest patron, judging by Stark's response to his last question, the Black Priests had the right of it: Never ask what you can observe.

"Unfortunately," he stated, removing the stopper from the bottle, "the hour is late and I've not had the opportunity to prepare any meals, so if you want something to eat, it will need to come from the replicator."  He was scarcely able to hide his disdain for the device as he spoke.  "And this is the last bottle of kanar until I have a chance to review the reserves."

He gave a passing glance towards the bar where Jack and the female had been.  "There was another vintage, but I suspect that may have been emptied by now."  Really, he just wanted an excuse not to have to go back to the bar to get the other bottle and see as it was a little too close to Stark.

Slowly he turned his attention expectantly back to the cardassian.

[Lieutenant Keval ch'Rayya | Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attention: Everyone/Anyone

Keval's expression softened as he watched Stark almost spray him with the wine that she'd been drinking before reaching for a napkin as he handed her another one. "I think that none of us are at are best today, Miss Stark." he said with a hint of a smile on his face that wasn't teasing but in fact simple, honest, warm, and friendly as his antenna dipped forward with concern. "Sometimes when we are not at our best, we find our ourselves to be at our best being ourselves and not the roles that we have to play."

Without realizing it, he'd just quoted the man who'd been in charge of "Wonderland" almost a decade before and that made his antenna shift slightly with an inward concern.

"The point however is still the same and if you wish to grab and table to talk a tad more quietly then I am all for it if you are?" he offered up respectfully.

[ LT Daniel Havenborn | Vector 3, Deck 28 - Below Deck Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan, @steelphoenix

Daniel had visited his quarters which he found a PADD letting him know that these were now his permanent quarters, which in all honesty he was fine with, not that it really mattered he didn’t have much to put up in them anyway.  At some point he’d have to get a weapons rack to place his pistol in when he wasn’t carrying it with him when he went out on sorties.  For now though he’d leave it in his tactical soft case along with his other equipment.  He changed back into his duty uniform and decided that to go rest back in the lounge he had been in before.  It seemed to be a good place to meet with other members of the crew and since he was still winding down from the adrenaline rush from his workout with Commander Martin, stretching his legs would do him some good.

On his way to the lounge however he had to stop and ask for directions a few times and wait in line a couple times for the use of the transporter since his quarters were on Vector 1, Deck 16 and the Below Deck Lounge was on Vector 3, Deck 28.  It took him about twenty minutes to finally arrive and by then he was thinking that it wasn’t worth it anymore, but now that he was here maybe he’d grab a drink and rest a bit before heading back.  He walked up to the bar and ordered a shot of Vat 69.  While the bartender went about putting the order into the replicator Daniel took a look around the room, he spotted some of the Resolve crew; Lieutenant ch’Rayya, was at the other end of the bar conversing with what he could only assume were some Theurgy officers, plus that Cardassian they had picked up from Starbase 84 was here as well.  However it was the brunette sitting at the table he had first sat down at when he had came in before.

As the bartender returned with his shot he downed it and then put the glass down and walked towards the brunette in teal.  “You seem to be sitting in my seat ma’am.”  He said with a smile as he approached the table.

[ PO Riley Patterson | Vector 3 | Deck 28 | Below Deck Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Havenborn


It had been a long and busy working day for nearly every medical staff member. The teal uniformed brunette had been up for far too long. She had started her shift while they were on approach to the Starbase, supposedly her shift was to end just before the engagement began. The heavy losses and new injuries from taking on other ship's survivors had decided otherwise. Her head had been pounding, not only from the work yet also from the lack of food or hydration. She felt rather tensed up and she was enjoying her own cup of tea with a light crispy snack.

"You seem to be sitting in my seat ma'am." Came a voice suddenly as the nurse snapped out of her mind drifting session. "Oh, uhm, sorry..." she started as she looked around, seeing several other places available to sit at "I didn't..." she looked up at the officer and didn't recognize him as one of their original crew. She knew she had no right to deny an officers place, so she nodded apologetic. "I'm sorry sir, I'll move elsewhere." she answered with a vibrant smile of her own. She was however too tired to realize if the pilot was kidding or if he actually did want the seat.

[ LT Daniel Havenborn | Vector 3, Deck 28 - Below Deck Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan

Daniel shook his head.  “Slow down Petty Officer, I’m not serious.”  Daniel said with a smile.  “I was actually wondering if I could join you at the table.”  He asked her as he motioned at the seat across from her.  She had some beautiful blue eyes though she looked like she was pretty tired, Daniel could only really imagine what it had been like for the Medical staff onboard the ship.  As a fighter pilot his battles were fought and won, or lost, in a matter of minutes.  He’d heard of surgeries taking hours depending on the level of treatment required.  Of course he was assuming she was from the Medical department, he wasn’t really sure to be honest but she didn’t strike him as a scientist.

He hoped that she’d allow him to sit down and even more he hoped that she’d stay and chat with him.  He figured since this was his new home that he’d have to start talking to people eventually, why put off the wait, especially when there was a beautiful brunette here that he could start talking to.  “I’m Lieutenant Daniel Havenborn, who might you be?”  He asked her, that way if she didn’t join him at least he’d know her name and could try again later.

[ PO Riley Patterson | Vector 3 | Deck 28 | Below Deck Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Havenborn 
Just as the petty officer was about to rise up from her seat did the lieutenant mention that he was only kidding. She smiled faintly and tried to relax a little, cursing at herself for not saluting the officer. "Apologies for not saluting sir." she said under her breath before she looked back into his dark orbs. "Feel free, the seat is not occupied." she answered as she gestured at the free seat. The pilot introduced himself and she smiled and nodded slowly "Petty Officer Riley Patterson. Nice to meet your acquaintance sir." she answered as she took the teacup to her lips and sipped from it.

"If you don't mind me asking, are you from the other ship?" she asked curiously as she held the cup in both hands to warm herself. She didn't seem to be bothered by the presence of the lieutenant and certainly didn't seem to mind to conduct a chat with him. Her eyes went over him, taking in his figure as she figured he was a pilot. She knew two other pilot squadrons had joined them one from the Resolve and the other from the Orcuss if she got the name right "Also, would you like something to drink or eat?" she asked with a warm smile.

[ LT Daniel Havenborn | Vector 3, Deck 28 – Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan

“No apologies are necessary Petty Officer, I’m off duty.”  Daniel said as he sat down across from the young woman.  “The pleasure is all mine Petty Officer Patterson.”  Daniel said as he watched her take a drink from her cup.  “I am indeed from the USS Resolve, I was the Squadron Commanding Officer of the Grey Wolves, not that it can really be called a squadron anymore.”  He said as he thought about his pilots, two pilots and a RIO, he barely had a Flight.  “Although my Grey Wolves are going to be integrating into the Lone Wolves soon.”  Daniel said.

“I could definitely eat something.”  Daniel replied as he thought about what he’d like to have.  He wasn’t really sure what he wanted but maybe she had some ideas.  “Is there something that you would recommend?”  He asked her as he waved for a waiter to come over.  He saw one who noticed his wave and nodded, he was currently helping another table so Daniel assumed that they’d have a minute or two before he came over.  Daniel tried to relax more but the thoughts about his pilots kept cropping back up and he tried to hide his discomfort, she looked like she had a long day herself and the last thing he wanted to do was to add to it.

[ Dr. Silim Parnak (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Silim_Parnak) | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @steelphoenix @Brutus Anyone
[Show/Hide]It took all of Silim’s effort not to scoff there and then directly in the felinoid’s face. Not only did he have no desire to eat from a replicator, but the fact that this waiter had the sheer audacity to assume that because Parnak was Cardassian, the only drink he would desire would be Kanar was nothing short of contemptuous.

The truth in the matter was that in fact, Silim could do with a taste of home. After all that had happened, his world had been turned upside down. Not only was he away from Cardassia, but also, he had had to leave all his personal belongs at Starbase 84. The thought of some Starfleet petty officer going through and cataloging his belongs was sickening, almost as much as having to share quarters with that broken little Romulan. Perhaps then, a glass would help soothe his frayed soul. With saying anything, Parnak nodded his acceptance for the choice in beverage.

There was something unusual in the server, it took a moment for Silim to realize. His initial estimation of Caitian or Ferasan was off. This felinoid had a larger cranial bulge, although it could have been down to styling of his fur. Parsing his eidetic memory, he came to another hypothesis. Kziniti. Another passenger, so far away from home. It piqued Silim’s curiousity and before he could come up with a plan, the words came from his mouth.

“Well, Kzin, come all this way to serve drinks? Or perhaps it was the chance to enjoy more…” he paused to look over the room, choosing the correct word. With a small smirk, he continued. “...intellectual female company?”

[ PO Riley Patterson | Vector 3 | Deck 28 | Below Deck Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Havenborn

The nurse looked at the pilot as he introduced himself and she nodded as he addressed her by her name and rank "Oh please, call me Riley." she smiled and tucked away a strand of hair behind her ear. She didn't know the losses to his squadron were that severe and she looked with a rather shocked expression on her face "Oh my... That's horrible..." she nodded understandingly as he mentioned the squadrons would merge "Well, a new pack might be good for everyone. I know our ship has taken some big losses too."she said a bit gloomy before she sighed and shrugged.

"As for a meal... I could eat some Larish pie... I've not had that in ages." she smiled "Unless you prefer something different? I mean, I couldn't have the whole thing... So I'd gladly share if you have a knack for something." she smiled as she clearly didn't mind to share her meal with the newly acquainted pilot. She noticed how Havenborn had flagged down the waiter to come over, yet she could also see his own thoughts stray away. As much as he tried to hide it, the nurse was somewhat trained to see when things were bothering people.

"So lieutenant..." she paused for a second as she doubted where to steer the conversation to "Are you Earth born? Or from one of the colonies?" she asked him softly, yet friendly enough as her blue eyes rose up to look him straight in the eyes. Riley herself looked to be more relaxed than when he had shown up. It seemed she already enjoyed the company of the pilot at her table. A welcome change instead of sitting alone.

[ Deacon | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Arista , @Brutus , @DocReno , @Havenborn , @Nolan  

He cast a glance in the direction of the new male and female that had come to sit together, thankful under his breath that the generic holographic staff had manifested to tend to their needs.  As he watched, he considered the artificial expressions, their relative dismissals -- these were not proper representations of the Lounge that he wished to project.  There was new management, after all, and such demanded a refinement of atmosphere, presentation and perhaps even what passed for staff.  It was a thought he filed away for later consideration.

He looked back to the Cardassian as he made his inquiry into Deacon's purpose and tilted his head, for a moment sensing a vague impression of indignation, layered with irritation, and as usual, the ever present arrogance that Cardassia seemed to impress into each of its citizens.  Of course, were he not so accustomed to the feelings of his own people, the very same might be said true of the kzinti.  But at last there was a faint acceptance -- of the drink, he suspected.

"My reasons for being here are hardly so banal as to involve drink service or the comparative sapience of females," he replied coolly, suspecting there was a chide in the question perhaps intended to bait him into a more heated reaction.  In truth, were he any other kzin, the cardassian might well be tasting his own blood rather than a glass of kanar over such an insinuation. 

"I have agreed to perform this duty to support the better functioning of this crew."  It didn't hurt that it also ensured he would have private, if admittedly small, quarters to himself, control over the majority of his food, and kept him from getting spaced for being a burden.  "To that end, as I recall, Cardassia and the Federation were at war not very long ago.  Brief but messy.  Involved some shapeshifting aliens and an invasion from the Gamma Quadrant?  I trust the recovery is going well.  Are you here as some sort of... diplomatic exchange?"

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Below Decks | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy 01 ]Atten: @DocReno @Arista @steelphoenix 
[Show/Hide]
Graciously taking the offered napkin, Natalie dabbed the rest of the wine from her dark lips, praying that the lower lighting of the lounges would help hide the flush in her cheeks. It took her a moment to work through his words, before she found herself nodding in agreement. Wise words that a fool like me could learn from, the Chief of Operations quietly chastized herself. Sighing very softly and setting the napkin down, she took the glass of wine and reached over for the bottle the bartender had left. Refilling the spilt portion - or spat, she supposed - of her drink, carefully, Natalie then turned, glass in hand, and swept her gaze down the bar, before returning to Keval. The shadows of the room played with the contours of his face, and with the way his antenna curled in she almost wondered if he were feeling pensive, or perhaps devilish.

The smile on his face kept hist countenance from taking on a truly demonic cast, and perhaps due to the wine, Natalie felt herself relaxing again, despite her embarrassment. Seeing as the bartender - as Mister Deacon, she told herself - was away, and more people were filtering into the bar, Natalie decided that the chance to step away to a more private table might be welcome. She'd not come down here looking for anything or anyone in particular. Just a chance to de-stress and forget about the horrors of the day. Forget about Aisha being blasted from behind. Forget about the Orcus a drift in space, flames of plasma bursting among the battlefield. Unfortunately the bar itself had proven to be anything but stress free. Perhaps the table might.

"I think that would be a good plan, Lt. ch'Rayya. Let's see if we can find a spare seat?"

[ LT Daniel Havenborn | Vector 3, Deck 28 – Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan

"Oh please, call me Riley."  Daniel smiled at her as he watched her tuck a strand of her hair behind her head.  “You have quite the beautiful name.”  Daniel said and since he was off duty he supposed it couldn’t hurt to relax and let her call him by his first name as well.  “Well since I’m off duty, you can call me Daniel.”  He said as she commented on the horrible situation; though in his mind the word ‘horrible’ somehow just didn’t quite accurately convey the correct feeling.  “Hopefully the integration goes well; I know it would do wonders for the morale of my pilots.”  Daniel said.

“I don’t think that I’ve ever had Larish pie before, but I’d be willing to try it.”  Daniel said as he thought about what it would taste like.  He hadn’t tried that much of non-human food so this would likely prove interesting.  "So lieutenant...  Are you Earth born? Or from one of the colonies?"  Daniel thought for a moment about how best to answer that question.  “Well to be honest, I’m not from Earth or any of her colonies.  I was born in an isolated part of Mars.”  Daniel said as he looked into her blue eyes, her posture was very relaxed now which in turn helped him to relax some more.  He felt awkward not sitting as straight as normal and he could still feel the phantom pain from the drill instructor’s baton whenever he tried to slouch when he was younger.

[ PO Riley Patterson | Vector 3 | Deck 28 | Below Deck Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Havenborn  

"You're name isn't too bad yourself, Daniel." she answered as a light flush had covered her cheeks. She couldn't help but remark with a playful tone "So, how should I call you when you're on duty? Just lieutenant or Lieutenant Daniel?" she leaned in a little and smiled broader before she nipped from her tea again.

Morale was indeed something that needed lifting, especially after the mission failure. It would probably weigh through in the next couple of days and Riley could only imagine how gloomy and down people would be. Especially in sickbay where people would feel useless while laying there in addition to the already extensive damage most departments had taken. "Well, I hope your integration will go without too much troubles. Did you get your quarters yet?"

"Oh, if prepared correctly, Larish pie can be quite good!" she mused as she waited for the waiter to arrive. She had noticed the Kzin earlier on as well and wondered why he had taken place behind the bar. It wasn't like Edena had told him to do so... That made her think about the current state of the former XO. Comatose in Sickbay after she herself was rumored to have botched the mission as a whole. What was she thinking?

"An isolated part of Mars?" Riley asked as her eyes widened and she leaned in closer as she was a sucker for good stories "Tell me more! Please." she smiled as she seemed to be fascinated about the origin story of the pilot. Seemingly hanging on his lips already to hear the story around him.

[ LT Daniel Havenborn | Vector 3, Deck 28 - Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan

Daniel smiled at her compliment about his own name and the joke about how to address him when on duty.  He knew that she was joking about it but the part of him that would have laughed openly at it was kept in check due to his training.  The painful memory of being beaten by a drill instructor's baton for making a stupid joke and laughing about it flashed through his head and he stopped smiling for a moment while she took a sip from her tea.  Even though he had graduated from his primary schooling it was hard to break the habits that had literally been beaten into him.  When she had asked him about his quarters he nodded.  “Indeed, I’ve been assigned to quarters in Vector 1, Deck 16; near the Fighter Assault Bay.”  Daniel replied.

Daniel was about to respond to the comment about the Larish pie when the waiter arrived.  Daniel ordered the Larish pie, another shot of Vat 69 and a pitcher of cold ice water and two glasses.  The waiter nodded at Daniel and then looked to Riley and waited for her to place an order, and then once she had he left.  Daniel smiled at her.  “Well let’s hope that they prepare it well.”  He said looking to her blue eyes and when she asked him to tell her more about his home he looked down to the table and tried to find the correct words.  “It’s a long story and a painful one at that, another time perhaps?”  He asked her as he remembered that he was no longer welcome amongst his people and the pain that brought with it.

[ PO Riley Patterson | Vector 3 | Deck 28 | Below Deck Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Havenborn   

She noticed the pilot only smiling, not even laughing at her attempt to joke.It was peculiar, like the man was still on edge despite being in a friendly space. Than again, he might consider this space as not friendly as he only just got on a so called renegade starship. Riley wouldn't hold a grudge as she simply was too tired for it and that there were numerous reasons for the man to be less happy about everything.

When she heard where his quarters were stationed she smiled "Oh, sweet! I'm bunked down on Vector Two myself, need to be in proximity for Sickbay." she answered "Deck 14." she completed her sentence as the waiter arrived for the order. Riley ordered herself another tea and the same meal like Havenborn did. She thanked the waiter as he left with the orders and looked back at Daniel. "Oh, the replicated stuff isn't as good as the real thing, yet it's far from the worst." she snickered.

When the pilot opted to not tell the story to her at this given time, she nodded understandingly "Sure, no problem." she took her tea once more and finished it off completely now as she looked back in Daniel's eyes. "So, what's it like to be a fighter pilot? I mean, I heard some of them say that nothing beats flying through the vacuum of space." she asked him softly.

[ LT Daniel Havenborn | Vector 3, Deck 28 – Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @

“It’s always good for our medical personnel to be near sickbay.”  Daniel said with a smile.  He kept trying to relax but his training kept forcing him to sit straight up.  He figured that within the next couple days once he’s had time to settle into his new life onboard the ship he’d be able to relax again.  Although he definitely sure that he’d have to set a good time during both the morning and evening when he could go work out, keeping his genetic enhancements in top physical shape was an utmost priority right now given the current situation he was in now.

He smiled as she placed her order then spoke about the differences between non-replicated and replicated.  “I haven’t really had that much non-replicated food since joining Starfleet.  It always strikes me as odd that there are people in the Federation that don’t eat replicated food.”  Daniel said as he thought back to his home.  His people didn’t have replicators; they had protein resequencers which while similar in function were vastly different in operation.

Hearing her agree to waiting for him to be ready to talk about his previous life made him relax a little more.  Her question about what it was like to be a pilot slightly confused him.  There wasn’t much option for him to be anything else.  “I don’t know really.  I suppose you could say it’s what I was born to do.”  Daniel said as he remembered when his father first told him that he was to be groomed as fighter pilot in the Ouranos Military Police/Aerospace Forces.  “I excelled in Flight Control and Tactical during my academy days and graduated as a fighter pilot.  I’ve never really thought about what it’s like though.”  Daniel said honestly.

[ PO Riley Patterson | Vector 3 | Deck 28 | Below Deck Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Havenborn

Riley could tell the pilot was trying to relax more, yet seemingly failed to do so entirely. She gave it no further attention or thought as she figured there wasn't a point for him to be called out on it. She had to laugh a little at his comment about medical staff being near Sickbay "Increases the chances of survival." she answered him with a wink.

"Oh really? I love cooking actually. Not anything too difficult or experimental... Just like the things that you think replicators can't produce. Which is a lot actually... I don't know, I think if you cook your own meal that you still have that extra touch to it." she thought out loud as she voiced her own opinion. She shrugged eventually "If you ever feel the dire need for something sugary and desert like, just let me know." she answered with a softer tone.

Patterson kept her eyes on the pilot as he imagined that he didn't really know. She smiled a bit broader "Well... I'd be a disaster behind the flight stick I imagine." she snickered "Too complicated and I don't think I have the muscle mass to survive in a cockpit." she smiled "But... Like in the Nebula we're in now, I do wonder what it would have to look like when in a shuttle or cockpit... All the lights and such... I'd just hover around for the scenery." she giggled before she shook her head "Sorry if I'm rambling."

[ LT Daniel Havenborn | Vector 3, Deck 28 – Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan 

Daniel smiled at her comment about the increased chance of a patient’s survival.  “Always a good thing.”  He said in return still smiling.  In his society unless you were married or under the age of 15 there were barracks for people to live which were generally in the same building as their occupation, he had spent five years in a barracks during his schooling; when he had went to Starfleet Academy he felt very out of place only having a single roommate rather than having a baker’s dozen.

“Well I’ve never said no to something sugary and desert like, especially when a beautiful woman asks me.”  Daniel said with a smile.  Daniel had never really had much sugary deserts growing up, his people had them but he had spent most of his time on campus and their selection for deserts was very limited so he decided that he didn’t need it.  When he left his people he found that most women enjoyed having deserts when on a date or just whenever.  “Do you have a specific preference when it comes to sugary and desert like?”  He asked her.

“Well it all depends on who your flight instructor is and as for muscle mass, that’s partly what the flight suit is for, it helps out a lot.”  The exo-suit was definitely something he had to get used to when he had joined Tactical CONN, his people relied more on genetic enhancements instead of mechanical ones.  “No need to apologize for rambling, I don't mind it.”  Daniel said with a smirk.  “And if I can swing it with whomever the new SCO is going to be maybe you could get your wish and see what the nebula is like from the view of a cockpit.”  Daniel replied.

[ Dr. Silim Parnak (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Silim_Parnak) | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @steelphoenix @Brutus @DocReno @Havenborn @Nolan 
[Show/Hide]The reply from the felinoid brought a smile instantly to Silim’s face. It appears that this cat was no dullard and that excited Parnak. Too long had he been burdened by Federation mediocracy. Finally, here he could find someone to converse and spar with on an intellectual level. First though, he had to reply to the Kzin’s question. 

“Exchange? Of sorts. As to how Diplomatic it’ll be? Well, that’s something we just have to wait and see” Pausing to take a sip of the Kanar, Silim appreciated the choice and quality of the drink he had been offered. The viscosity of the beverage was perfect, a wonderful taste of home.

“This bar of yours. Seems that there is a mass of pairings going on.” Parnak indicated to the others, stretching a finger from a hold on his glass. Firstly, two humans and then, a human and an Andorian. All were opposite genders. Well, the Andorian was definitely opposite. The quad gendered nature of the species fascinated Silim. He pondered momentarily about hyper-fertility experiments before returning his mind to the topic at hand. “Are you here to offer me more than just a beverage? Perhaps a secret menu?” The joke was a bit obvious, insinuating that in fact the Kzin had converted a Starfleet lounge into a makeshift brothel. However, looking at the offerings on show, Parnak certainly wouldn’t say no.

“No matter.” He said. Vocalizing the end of the thought train. It was a fevered dream, no more and Silim pushed the thought from his head. Instead he would find out more about mysterious barkeep. From the way he spoke, it sounded as he was new to the ship as well. “If you are out here, stuck on his ship with me. You must have done something to earn yourself a name. Or am I forced to call you ‘Pourer-Of-Drinks’?”

[ Deacon | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Arista , @Brutus , @DocReno , @Havenborn , @Nolan  

Deacon regarded the cardassian, feeling the shift in his mood, likely impressed that he wasn't speaking to the average kzin.  Cardassians, as he recalled, did place a certain level of value in intellect, and his training had ensured a regimented education above and beyond that of the rank and file of his race.  Were he inclined to place a wager, he suspected this particular patron to be of the more scientifically inclined members of his species, rather than those preoccupied with more militaristic agendas.

He was hard pressed to decide if he was more impressed that this new patron had an understanding of kzinti naming practices or insulted that he had chosen one so blatant, but he was hardly in a position to adequately demonstrate his true profession and any semblance of straakh was lost the moment he set foot aboard the starbase.  "Had I earned a name," he replied, "I would be accompanying a warband and likely feasting on the flesh of the crew rather than tending to their recreational needs."  Casting a glance back at the others in the bar, he squared his shoulders slightly.  "And I have nothing to do with their baser instincts.  This is meant to be a social gathering place, but some have partaken of pre-coital relations."

Turning his attention back towards the cardassian, he continued, "I would ask that you not encourage such activities."

"As to what you may call me," he said after a moment, reflecting that his attire was wholly unsuitable, still nothing more than uncomfortable civilian garb that he had managed to secure from one of the colonies before betraying his people, "I am Deacon.  Before coming here, I was a member of the Black Priesthood."  His casual admission was almost the same as someone randomly blurting out that they were a member of the Obsidian Order, or the Tal'Shiar, but the kzinti did not hide the existence of the Black Priests.  In fact, they were feared, respected, and most importantly, held the ear of their ruler in a way that even the High Priests did not.  In more ways than one, they were the true power behind the throne -- at least, if the rumors were to be believed.  "And you are...?"

[ Devyrie "Dragon" Okhala (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Devyrie_Okhala,_callsign_%27%27Dragon%27%27) | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @steelphoenix & anyone else
[Show/Hide]When Devyrie had finally managed to get quarters assigned to her, having stood in the line to the Quartermaster for quite some time, she did naught more than use some of her allotted replicator rations to make some clothing. Then, after she had a couple of duty uniforms to spare, she donned denim trousers, boots, a black tank top and a Tactical CONN hoodie, she left her quarters behind. Vinnie Ferris, her RIO, had said he wanted to rest, so for the first time, Devyrie had roamed the corridors of the Theurgy alone.

She had spotted a few White Wolves now and then, stopped to chat a bit, before continuing her slow exploration of the multivector dreadnought. Yet her in her thoughts was neither the size of the ship nor what accommodations could be found around the next intersection. No, in her mind, she tried to recall - word for word - what her father had written to her. She remember lifting the encryption while using their own secret key word, and then stared at the glowing words on her screen back on Luna base.

Now, she was on the Theurgy, but she had yet to verify anything. The briefing in the Fighter Assault Bay had been compelling, and on its own, it had offered a lot of facts... but her father had not offered her nothing so profound as parasitic usurpers. The eerie feeling she had, however, was that she had gleaned the truth... and the reason someone in Starfleet had tried to arm Donatra's fleet was because this enemy wanted a galactic war. Supposition, she thought, blinking with her green eyes, Not good enough. It's like I have two halves of the puzzle, but I have yet to make them make a whole image.

She wanted to believe her father had been right, but she also believed that the Theurgy's crew knew what they'd seen.

Devyrie stepped into a lounge, and saw people she had not met before there. As far as she could see, there were no White Wolves there, and considered to leave in search for them. Yet her white hair and her faint Romulan ridges had already drawn the eyes of a few that were present, and should she turn on her heel and leave... it would not be constructive to her ambition to blend in.

To try and learn more, before deciding on her next action aboard the ship.

She did not challenge those who stared at her ridges with her sharp, green gaze, but ignored them all lest she'd been spoken to. She stepped up to the bar, and seeing a large felnoid bartender having left the counter to speak with a guest at one of the tables - a Cardassian - she waited until she had the proprietor's attention before making her order.

"Kali-fal, please," she said in her Alpha Centauri accent, leaning against the counter with one arm. It was what she'd drink with her father when they'd meet, once she'd come of age. Perhaps the taste would spring her memories of his cautionary words... and she'd know what to do next.

[ PO Riley Patterson | Vector 3 | Deck 28 | Below Deck Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Havenborn 

A slight flush colored Riley's cheeks as Daniel replied with never saying no to sugary deserts, the part about her being a beautiful woman was the part that made her blush a bit more. She giggled a little before she shook her head and looked more deeply into Daniel's eyes. His next question made her think her response over. There were so many sugary deserts that she likes, some more delicious than others. "Well, you have the classics from Earth... Ice cream with various toppings, creme bruleé, warm bread sticks with cinnamon sauce draped over them...  Otherwise you have Ktarian chocolate puff, I'danian spice pudding or Sweet leola root tart... There's really a lot to explore." she smiled "Depends what you're really into though. Flavors are very variable." she concluded as she folded her hands together after placing her cup back down.

"Oh right, flight suits... I always wonder what you guys wear under that. I mean, isn't it too hot in there during space flight? Or is it too cool at times?" she asked him straight forward. she leaned in now, resting her elbows on the table as she studied the pilot's face. She had to laugh when he mentioned that she might get to see the nebula for herself if he could swing it with the next SCO. "Really? you think the new flight leader would let you do that?" she asked with a bright smile on her face. It would definitely be one of her ideas that she could scrape of her bucket list if so.

"I mean, aren't there regulations or something against it?" she asked laughing as she shook her head "I don't want you to get in trouble because of me. The sight from one of the side windows is just as breath taking at times you know. Even more so on an observation deck." she mused as she finished up her drink. It was just in time it seemed as their orders came through for the pie. Two plates presented in front of them as Riley grinned "Dig in Daniel, let me know what you think of it."

[ LT Daniel Havenborn | Vector 3, Deck 28 – Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan 

Daniel listened as she listed off the different types of deserts.  As she giggled he smiled and managed to relax a little as he stared back into her eyes.  “Well I’ve had ice cream before and I’ve had cakes but I’ve not really had anything else.”  He generally didn’t eat deserts as his diet required him to eat specific types of foods and unfortunately deserts weren’t high on that list.  “As for what I’m into, I don’t really have a favorite type of desert.  Maybe we could try a variety of them sometime?”  Daniel asked her with a smile, he also wouldn’t mind spending more time with her.

Daniel smiled when she mentioned the flight suits.  “Well I usually wear an undershirt and pants or my physical training gear underneath my flight suit.”  He explained as he paused for a moment.  “The flight suit itself is temperature controlled allowing you to keep it at a temperature that is perfect for you.”  He explained.  “I don’t know but I doubt there’s any harm in asking.”  Daniel said as he thought back to when he was an SCO himself and he’d taken his then girlfriend at the time, Krissy Williams, out a few times; but then he had been the SCO and thus could bend the rules a little.  “Don’t worry if there are regulations against it I won’t be breaking them.  Regulations exist for a reason after all.”  He replied as he saw the waiter bring their deserts over to them and place them down in front of them.

Daniel smiled as he sliced a piece of pie with his fork and brought it up to his mouth taking his first taste.  He chewed it then swallowed and smiled.  “It tastes good, I can’t really place what it tastes like though but it is really good.”  He said with smile as he sliced off another piece and ate it.

[ PO Riley Patterson | Vector 3 | Deck 28 | Below Deck Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Havenborn  

"Cakes can be nice, especially with different toppings." Riley answered before she nodded "Sure, we can try something out, if you want we could even cook up something ourselves." she snickered "Cooking is always fun and well... It's always bound to get messy." she answered the pilot with a subtle wink. She enjoyed the stoic character of the pilot, even it was to flirt with him and see how much of his stoicism he could retain in the end. Yet in the end, she didn't want him to feel uncomfortable or bad, so she decided to ease down a little.

"Well, we don't have a new SCO yet... Considering you were one before, maybe you'll have a chance to become the new one as well?" Patterson asked, suggested it even as she didn't know who the hell was in charge of the wolves after the death of Renard. "Either way, let me know if you get any sort of clearance for it." she smiled vibrantly as she looked at the Larish pie being presented.

Riley sliced off a piece for herself as she tasted it and she chewed on it before swallowing it "Mmh, a bit staler than I remember, but it tastes pretty good though. I'm glad you like it!" she exclaimed while she started eating her first real solid meal of the day "So do you have any other plans for tonight? Or can a pretty girl like me keep you company for the rest of the evening?" she asked, daring him a bit yet testing the waters herself.

[ LT Daniel Havenborn | Vector 3, Deck 28 – Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan 

“I’d like that, maybe tomorrow after my duty shift ends and if you’re free?”  He asked her as he noticed the subtle wink.  He wasn’t quite sure where she was going with her statement but he liked to think he had the right idea.  He’d have to see if it turned out he was right, though he realized that if something were to happen he might have to propose a courtship with her as he had with Krissy Williams on the Resolve.

Daniel nodded as he remembered his conversation with Lieutenant Ravon earlier, and he figured that the SCO list was probably between him and Ravon.  “I can only hope, although if it ends up being someone else that will definitely be one of the first questions I ask.”  Daniel replied.  He assumed that if he wasn’t chosen as SCO he’d at least retain command over what was left of his squadron which was more of a Flight now; at the very least he could hope for a position as a Flight Leader.

He watched for her reaction as she ate the pie and it seemed that the replicator had not done the pie any justice as she commented on the staleness of it.  Daniel took another bite himself but since he had no comparison it tasted just fine to him.  “I’m meeting up with a friend from the Resolve later tonight but until then I’m all yours.”  Daniel said with a smile as he stared into her eyes.  “What did you have in mind?”  He asked her.

[ PO Riley Patterson | Vector 3 | Deck 28 | Below Deck Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Havenborn  

"Sure, I'm pretty positive that works for me. Seeing you're an officer though... Would you mind if we did so at your quarters? I have shared quarters so, unless you want someone eyeing you out while cooking..." she laughed a little and took another bite from her pie. Riley seemed to relax a bit more around the pilot as she rested her head on her hand as she leaned against the table. She looked to be more tired now that she had gotten a decent meal and she only managed to eat half of it before she pushed the plate aside and drank some of the newly offered tea. In the meantime she nodded as Daniel spoke of hoping for the SCO position.

"Mmh, all mine huh?" she snickered before she sipped a bit more from the tea. She gave his question some thought about what they could do. Considering the pilot would still have to go out later on she narrowed her ideas down. "Well, the options are possibly..." she paused as she looked around and laughed a bit to herself "You could always show me your best dance moves..." she dared him "Otherwise, we could go for a walk and I'll have you show you around a little to the most important stuff, or just keep here and have some more drinks." she suggested as she looked at the pilot, her eyes searching his for what might strike his interest.

[ LT Daniel Havenborn | Vector 3, Deck 28 – Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan

Daniel smiled and nodded.  “My quarters are pretty bland right now but if that doesn’t bother you then you are most welcome to come to my quarters.”  Daniel said, though depending on who her roommate was that could be pretty interesting.  He continued eating his pie enjoying the taste of it as he began to notice that she was looking a little more tired now.

He smiled as she snickered to his comment about him being all hers for now.  When she mentioned dancing he thought back to his schooling, they had been given courses in dancing but only with a partner and it’d been awhile since he’d done that.  “To be perfectly honest, the only dancing I’ve ever done was with a partner and that was a long time ago.”  Daniel said as he took another bite and listened to the other choices.  He wouldn’t mind a personal tour of the ship led by her.  The drinking option however wasn’t something he wanted to go back to for awhile.  As much as he loved the taste of Vat 69, he drank more of that brand of scotch today than he had when he had graduated from the Academy.  “I think the tour sounds like a good idea.”  Daniel said.

[ PO Riley Patterson | Vector 3 | Deck 28 | Below Deck Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Havenborn

"Doesn't bother me at all to be fair... You're not the type to decorate? Or just because you got the quarters?" she asked, wondering if he had a bit of a spartan attitude. She had seen a couple of people do it, maintaining an almost bare room to keep their head in the game and have them on edge all the time. She nipped more from her tea and finished the cup this time before placing it on the plate with the pie on it. She scooped the last bit from the edge and sucked it off her finger before she leaned back a little.

"Well, would it make you feel more comfortable if I were to be your partner in that case Daniel?" she asked teasingly and laughed a little "I'm an okay dancer, but nothing too formal." she admitted and shrugged. The pilot however opted for the tour and she nodded "Alright, that works for me." she answered and waited for a few more seconds "Let me know when you'd like to go."

Once the pilot had finished his meal, the nurse stood up and gestured the pilot to follow her as she lead him out of the lounge and into the multi vector dreadnought's corridors.

[ LT Daniel Havenborn | Vector 3, Deck 28 – Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Nolan 

Daniel shook his head.  “I just haven’t had the time honestly.  Most of my belongings went with the Resolve and I haven’t really had a chance to replace everything yet.  I suppose once everything gets settled that I’ll speak to the quartermaster and begin requisitioning stuff to decorate my quarters with.”  Daniel replied.  He had always decorated his quarters, he viewed his quarters as his home, it was the one place where he could truly relax and not worry about anything.

“I only know my people formal dances, I don’t really know how to dance casually.”  He said with a smile.  He had taught Krissy a few of his people’s formal dances and the two of them had danced in either his quarters or hers on several occasions.  Daniel nodded and picked up his last shot then downed it and stood up.  He had planned on reviewing the ship’s directory tomorrow but getting a personal tour from a beautiful woman was far better.

“I’m ready whenever you are Petty Officer Patterson.”  Daniel said as he followed her lead out of the lounge and into the ship’s corridors.  “So where are we off to first?”  He asked her with a smile.

LT JG Alessia Garcia, Callsign "Angel" (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/images/thumb/9/9b/Alessia-Garcia-04.png/250px-Alessia-Garcia-04.png) | Vector 3, Deck 28 - Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy] ATTN: @Auctor Lucan, anyone else

To say that today hadn't gone as planned would be an understatement.  It was an emotional roller-coaster riddled with information overload and a fair bit of self doubt.  Alessia thought she'd rationalized everything away, but at 2130 hours her mind was still replaying each pivotal moment and questioning her reactions.  Had she made the right decisions?  She thought she had.. so why couldn't she sleep?  Restless nights weren't uncommon, but there was something nagging at her brain.  Guilt?  Disappointment?  Failure?  Loss?  She shook her head.  Her brown eyes slowly opened and stared at the ceiling.  "This isn't working."

Maybe she should have gone out with Sehl.  He had offered an hour or so ago, but she didn't drink and wasn't really feeling up to the 'bar scene' on her first day aboard a new ship.  Now though, she was having second thoughts.  The company would be welcome and she was certain they served more than just alcoholic beverages.  Besides, the Orcus' lounges had been nice on occasion.

A little after 2200 hours, Alessia entered the Below Decks Lounge in her off-duty attire, fully intending to join her Andorian RIO for a bit of socializing and relaxation.  But as she scanned the room, she didn't see him anywhere.  Instead, to her surprise, her friend and flight-mate Dev was amidst the crowd and seemingly alone.  Since Sehl didn't seem to be there and Alessia didn't want to sit by herself and sip her horchata, she crossed to Dev's spot by the bar counter and seated herself there.

"Hey chica!  ¿Que Pasa?¹"  It was common for Alessia to ask 'what's up' in Spanish.  Either Dev would remember the phrase and it's meaning or she wouldn't and Alessia would rephrase in English.  "I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd meet Sehl here, but I don't see him anywhere.  Have you seen him?"  It was entirely possible that Sehl had not come at all, but in all likelihood she'd simply missed him.  Not that it mattered now, since Alessia had found Dev instead. 

"What a loco² day, eh?  If you had asked me this morning to guess where i'd be right now, this would not be my answer.  But what can you do?"  Alessia watched Dev as she spoke.  Her friend seemed.. tense?  On edge was more like it.  As if she was focused on something just out of reach.  "How are you holding up?  And where's the waiter?  I want to see if their horchata is any good or if they need my abuela's³ recipe."

---

1.) ¿Que Pasa? = What's Up?
2.) loco = crazy
3.) abeula's = grandma's

[Lieutenant Keval ch'Rayya | Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attention: @Brutus

"I think that would be a good plan, Lt. ch'Rayya. Let's see if we can find a spare seat?"

Keval offered her a very warm smile, "Very good then, I promise to avoid any topics like who's currently the best baseball player of the Pikes Pioneers or who is the better Betazoid fashion designer." he said in a warm tone as he got up from his stool and looked around the room, finally seeing an empty table neat to the viewports with a nice beautiful view of space.

Plus it was far enough away for them to talk in private easily.

He then motioned at said table, his smile still honest and warm. "Will that table work, Miss Stark?" he offered up.

[ Jaya Thorne (https://orig05.deviantart.net/12e0/f/2016/300/a/4/imgpsh_fullsize_by_auctor_lucan-damefg0.png) |  Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn @Kaligos , @DocReno , anyone else
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"Well, this is the place."  Jaya lingered in the corridor outside the lounge. She wondered if she should remain in the hallway for Sithick to show up, since he was guaranteed to see her there.  If she entered and found a table, there was a chance he might miss her in the crowd.  Granted, it was a slim chance, but still.. she had invited him out because she was making an effort to get to know the lizardman.  It would be hard to make small talk if he decided to leave because he couldn't find her.  But there was liquor inside and not outside, so she entered.

The Below Decks Lounge was everything Jaya expected in an off-duty establishment.  The place was roomy and filled with tables, some vacant and some occupied.  It had a lovely view of the nebula and a space where performers could play or sing or dance.  The bar swept one entire side of the room, and it's vast array of spirits caught her eye.  Oh, there were other sights to see: the decor, the lighting, the placements of doors and replicators.. but only one place called to her.  Jaya gave the room a final sweep before turning toward the bar.  Yes, there were open tables.. but that vacant bar stool called to her.

Jaya was all too familiar with bars and the trouble she could get into here.  Plus, she had plans later, which had taken serious effort to create, so she couldn't allow herself to become too wasted.  But it would be rude to sit at the bar and NOT have a drink..

Jaya hoped up into a bar stool and glanced at the bartender.  The next question on her mind was of course: what to order that she could drink her fill of and not be too tipsy when it was time to go.  The answer to that was easy.  Jaya waved her hand at the bartender to get his attention. 

"I'll have 2 Romulan Ales, please.  And I'm waiting for someone.  A Gorn.  I doubt it but.. has he been by here already?"  Sithick was someone you definitely didn't miss or forget.  He wasn't currently in the lounge, but just to make sure he hadn't arrived early and left, she figured asking was prudent.

[Lieutenant Keval ch'Rayya | Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attention: @Brutus, @Even Angels Cry

The andorian over heard the question and turned to regard the speaker and found himself caught by the figure in question, his antenna moved just enough to indicate interest in the curvy woman in question. "I've seen a lot of things in the last couple of days, miss." he admitted freely with a smile on his face. "Ranging from the last ride of my late ship in an epic blaze of glory to this bat shit crazy conspiracy of shadows and bugs to being told that Kanar is the hardest stuff in here at the moment."

The andorian's antenna then flexed in a strange pattern, an andorian way of laughing silently as his smile took on a slightly silly look. "None the less, let the 'Verse have it's twenty seconds of darkness because in the end we'll be the ones with the last laughs..how does the Earth that was saying go again.." he mused as he took on a thoughtful look before he spoke again, his voice sounding taking on a bit of a Northern accent as he spoke;

'When can their glory fade?'
'O the wild charge they made!'
"All the world wonder'd.'
'Honour the charge they made!'
"Honour the Light Brigade,'
'Noble six hundred!'

He then looked upwards in thought as if he'd forgotten something and then shook his head. "I hope that's the right one, but the point of the matter is that all of us here collectively have survived a lot to get to this point and thus we can survive anything!" he said with a simple, honest smile. "Besides, I still owe one hell of a pilot an entire round of drinks..out flying an entire squadron of interceptors like that in a captain's YACHT of all things..now that takes skill and finesse."

[ Devyrie "Dragon" Okhala (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Devyrie_Okhala,_callsign_%27%27Dragon%27%27) | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @steelphoenix & @Even Angels Cry 
[Show/Hide]Even though she had made her order across the room to the bartender, it seemed he was busy with speaking to the Cardassian, so Devyrie sighed and leaned on the bar counter, lost in her thoughts again.

That was, until suddenly Angel appeared at her side, and it made Devyrie smile - turning to face her sister wolf from the old White Wolf Squadron. She was a bit difficult to understand at times, though, her accent and some of her words foreign to her since she had grown up on Alpha Centauri. Then again, perhaps that was true of herself as well, when those from Earth heard her speak. She did know the phrase in question, though.

"I am slowly trying to come to terms with being here, truth be told," she said to Alessia, and the dark-haired pilot seemed to be of the same mind, talking about how crazy of a day it had been. While she spoke, Devyrie's green gaze picked up the arrival of another woman, and as if he knew her, an Andorian stopped talking with the human at his table in order to speak with this new woman, as if he'd completely forgotten that he was talking to the first one. Devyrie raised her eyebrows, thinking that on Alpha Centauri, such a slight would not have gone by unpunished. It seemed men of all species behaved like canines that thought all females around them were in heat. It was none of her business though, turning her back to whatever may happen next there - eyes returning to Angel's.

"The waiter is over there, talking to the spoonhead," she said, not keen on Cardassian due to personal experiences, "Don't know about food, but I have tried to get a drink. If he doesn't return, perhaps we should head to another lounge, or go use the replicator ourselves."

Pausing, she answered the second question - her smile gone. "I keep asking myself if I did the right thing," she admitted in a quiet voice, clenching her jaw. "I know you vouched for this Thomas Ravon, but I don't know the man. I... find myself here, on this ship, on the word of others, and while I am inclined to believe what we saw in that recording. I just feel that there is more to all this than meets the eye. I have no definitive certainty..."

Looking up to Angel's eyes again, she raked a hand through her white locks. "I... just wish there was a way I knew for sure. That I didn't come her half-cocked, as they say. Tell me. Why do you trust Ravon's word, or Ives', for that matter?"

[ Dr. Silim Parnak (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Silim_Parnak) | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @steelphoenix @Auctor Lucan @Even Angels Cry @Brutus @DocReno Anyone
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As if it wasn’t already possible, the smile on Parnak’s face deepened, to what he had once heard described as a ‘shit-eating’ grin. Who would have guessed in a small bar within the Federation’s rogue ship, that there would be a fallen member of the black priesthood? It was almost as if it was part of one of those mystery action holonovels. He would need to keep an eye on this one. Who knows what possibilities could present themselves?

“Parnak.” He retorted by way of introduction. “Doctor Parnak, should you subscribe to the nomenclature of prefixes.” Pausing to take a sip of the Kanar, Silim continued. “Professor at University of Cult and member of the board of Xenobiology in the Cardassian Science Ministry.”

“I guess I should be glad. Cardassian flesh is not described as the most enjoyable for the warband on the prowl, nor if I were in your stomach, could I enjoy this treat.” Silim drained his glass before rolling it between his fingers. The cloying syrup had the perfect amount of burn. Just enough to tingle. Soon, the Kanar would start to lose its viscosity and would turn sour as it spoiled. Silim pondered if he should just ask for the rest of the bottle as shouts for drinks came from across the room. From the corner of his eye he caught new attendees at the bar.

“Yet another Romulan…” He casually observed, vocally. This was truly starting to turn into a summit of alpha quadrant powers. Silim knew his time for pleasantries would soon be over. If there was one thing that seemed apparent, it was not to get between this crew and their relaxation. “I imagine duty, such as it is, calls.” He said by way of dismissing the bartender. “Come find me again when you are free, Kzin. I would like to hear how you ended up here.”

[ Deacon | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Arista , @Auctor Lucan , @Even Angels Cry , @Nolan , @Havenborn , and anyone else needing the proprietor

Deacon gave a nod to Parnak, pausing long enough to leave the bottle of kanar at the table.  It wasn't a practice he would ordinarily undertake with the others but he figure the cardassian may well enjoy it and he seemed disinclined to be the sort to abuse such a privilege, and Deacon did appreciate the more intellectual approach to his presence as opposed to the more visceral reactions of some of the humans he'd encountered -- even those that had struggled to maintain their hard-won diplomatic facades when dealing with him.

He turned to look back at the growing assemblage of patrons that had taken the late hour as an opportunity to seek camaraderie and food, despite his expectations that the long day and promise of longer hours tomorrow might otherwise dissuade so many from straying from their newly assigned beds. Rolling his shoulders and silently cursing the persistent numbness in his hand, he passed the table where a male and female human seemed so enraptured in their own conversation that the whole of the lounge around them may otherwise be caught in some delayed timewarp around them.

As he moved back to the bar area itself, he noted the the holographic personnel may well prove advantageous in future.  But he couldn't bear the thought to random, anonymous servers simply appearing and disappearing at random with no accountability or long term connection.  The very idea seemed overly haphazard and impersonal.  If there were to be holograms, he would need to give them distinct identities and see if he could have them serve a more long-term purpose in the lounge, as one might expect of any employee.

Passing before the replicator, he made a quick request before grabbing the glass of faint blue liquid as it appeared and placing it before the female romulan.  "You requested kali-fal," he stated, thankful that his keen hearing and ability to mentally multitask was not something wasted in such an environment.  "Unfortunately, I have not had the opportunity to refresh our supplies tonight so this is replicated."  He disliked the need to give such an advisory as often as he was; the habit of making excuses was not one that earned the practitioner any straakh.  He would need to tend to these deficiencies as soon as he awoke it seemed -- presuming the Lounge cleared at anything close to a reasonable hour to allow for sleep.  "However," he said, his tone taking a faintly more serious tone, "I realize that not all species have a care for one another, I ask that terms such as 'spoonhead' be left beyond those doors.  In this place, we are one pride."

Turning his gaze to the human female beside her, picking up on another matter he'd clearly not been present to hear, he confessed, "I'm not familiar with the term 'horchata'.  I assume that is a terran delicacy?  I will endeavor to familiarize myself with it for future reference, but for now, I can request that it be replicated if that is your desire."

As a third female approached the bar and requested Romulan Ale and the presence of a gorn, he turned his golden eyes towards her replied, "I regret that we do not have any Romulan Ale.  It is my understanding that it is considered contraband within the Federation."  He tilted his head, the whiskers above one eye taking an inquisitive arch.  "As to the gorn, unless this vessel has more than one, he and I have... met... when I first came on board.  I have not seen him since."  The thought of the large reptilian barreling at him in zero-G in the midst of a damaged bridge caught in the middle of a space battle came to mind, forcing Deacon to repress it with some effort. 

[ PO2 Sithick | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Even Angels Cry , @Arista @Auctor Lucan @steelphoenix @DocReno
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Sithick was always so nervous when it came to entering any establishment in which he would eat in front of other beings. He had seen looks of various kinds over his years when he ate. Some looked to him as if mortified like he may end up devouring them along with his meal, others had the odd fascination one would get from watching a 21st century train accident. Once, and only once he had been looked upon with what he had to assume was arousal.

He had eaten fairly recently as three hours had passed from his encounter with Lahkesis. Everything about that still left him feeling so very odd. He had no idea what to think about what had transpired,. From the affectionate touching with the doctor, to everything else that was now causing his legs to shake slightly. There was also the point that he could crawl into his bed and sleep for an eternity, but he had told Jaya that he would make an attempt to follow her to this lounge.

Which of course put him into the nervous position he was in now. He  had never spent any time in an off duty lounge, he had never drank before. Once upon a time in his life alchahol had been something for slave owners, a simble of status and wealth. Then when he had come under the ownership of the Klingon Empire the drinks had flowed freely. He had never seen a ship that didn't have at least nine kegs of blood wine somewhere in it's station, and yet he had never partook in it. Klingon ale had been offensive to his sensitive snout.

When he had joined the Federation pretty much any replicator could be used for the stuff, getting Margarittas and other earth drinks had been a common passing on the Eldarado, and he had usually been the one to fix something after the drunks of the ship had broken it.

So this place was... not his usual location. Sithick waked steadily through the crowd, his muzzle twisting and turning in the air as he followed a scent rather than using his eyes. Walking up behind Jaya, he placed one large powerful claw on her shoulder in a gentle patting motion, before sitting down at the bar next to her. His translator was on, allowing him to speak with a gramattically correct voice, if a little fragmented, and of course turning his normally deep horrific voice into something he had picked to hopefully be a little disarming, the feminine voice of some actress from many years ago. "Hello, did I keep you waiting?" As he spoke his yellow eyes did a quick one eighty around the room, his head darting around as he felt uncomfortable.

The creature he had tackled from earlier this day was here as well. Sithick's yellow eyes hardened for a moment wondering if there was going to be some trouble, but instead of an insult or a fight, the large lizard let out a loud, yawn. Too much work, too many shifts, and it was all going to start again tomorrow. His jaw unhinged for a moment stretching to it's full amount as his red tongue on display before it snapped shut with the force one would expect of such a creature.

"Tender, I would like a chocolate that is hot please." Though the translator was an actual device that rested on sithick's lower jaw it had to struggle for a moment as he seemed to almost balk in his language, apparently whatever tongue he was using originally didn't exactly have words for what he was ordering. He felt confident drinking in front of a crowd, but he would never, never eat in a place of this size.

He would probably die of embarrassment from the looks.

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Below Decks | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy 01 ]Atten:
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He has a certain amount of charm, I have to admit, Natalie decided as they stood and began to make their way from the bar towards one of the numerous tables. The doors to the lounge were opening more and more often, as shifts ended and new faces poured themselves into seats and ambled up to the bar. It made her think of the stark contrast to the Spearhead Lounge the night prior. She imagined she might spend more time there in the future. Less memories of the departed, and as it was an officers lounge, less crowded.

But tonight, a crowd had been part of the draw. No close intimacy with Dr. Nicander and Lt. Cmdr. Wenn. The ability to drown in a sea of living people, a reminder that she had survived. And so she would spend it with the charming Andorian from the Resolve. Perhaps form a connection with the new comers, help them adjust. Help me not make even more of an ass of myself than i did with that idiot science officer. Baby steps.

Of course, she had to actually get to the table. And it seemed the former CTO of the Resolve had been distracted by another pretty face. Natalie turned to observe and felt her eyebrows rise slightly. Facial scarring? she thought to herself. She knew that plenty of people kept the scars that they'd earned throughout life. It was a practice she didn't understand, but she knew of it. She'd had plenty of first hand experience when dealing with the former Wing Commander of the Harbinger, Lt.Cmdr. Kilinvoss. Never the less, there was just a small, wine coated part of her that became somewhat jealous at the sudden about face from the Androian.

She glanced around as he spouted off some kind of lyrics and delicately sat, letting her gaze pass over those around her.

[Lieutenant Keval ch'Rayya | Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attention: @Brutus, @Even Angels Cry


Keval's eyes were ever alert, taking in everything around him as was usual before seeing the arrival of said gorn and then nodding to the young curvy woman before heading over to the table where the commander was waiting, the smile he had slowly disappearing from his face as it took on a more thoughtful one.

"Sorry about me sprouting off an old poem like that, Miss Stark, I used to be one of the people that would keep my fellow senior staff members focused and I guess that feeling of responsibility hasn't gone away quite yet." Keval offered up in an honest tone as he sat down across the table from the human. "Plus I wanted to make sure that I heard that right and in fact there is a gorn on the ship..I was actually curious if it was a female, they are some of the toughest and most fighters among that speices..rare to encounter off world since they tend to be high ranking officers."

Keval then ran a hand through his short hair as he studied the human for a moment before nodding slightly. "Tell me, Miss Stark, from basic observation what can you tell me about three people in this room?" he asked but then he gave her a ghost of a smile. "Not about their service records or anything but from just looking at them can you tell me one thing based on how they move, walk, talk, or the like?"

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Below Decks | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy 01 ]Atten: @DocReno @Arista 
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Before she could do too much in the way of looking about, ch'Rayya had returned from his poetic discourse and taken the seat opposite her. She turned her blue eyes to him, and let one dark brow rise up on her forehead. Now just where is he going with this? she asked herself, running a finger in a circle on the top of the table.  "Apology accepted, Lieutenant," She dipped her head ever so slightly, some of her bangs flashing over her forehead as she smiled, gently. "The habits we pick up, when in charge of others, are hard to set aside." Unsure if she fully bought his explanation or not, Natalie was willing to let it slide. He was , at the very least still quite charming and a welcome change of pace.

"You want me to...observe?" She stated for clarity, looking down the last glass of wine from the bottle the Knzit had given her earlier. She brought it to her lips, savored the sweet caressed that ran over her tongue, and then set it gently back down, swallowing the ruby red mouthful. Her lips were slightly flushed after, and a bit of color lightened her cheeks. "Well then, lets see. What oh what do I spy, with my little eyes," she chanted, letting her gaze sweep over the Andorian's shoulder. Her eyes went back to the pilot, from earlier. She didn't know her name, but the face stood out in a crowd.

"We'll start with the pilot. I can tell that she's had some kind of trauma in the past," this was perhaps cheating, but maybe not. "No one who willingly keeps a set of scars like the ones on her face does so unless they want a reminder. Perhaps of something she;d overcome." Both brows rose up higher on her forehead. "And she apparently knows our new Gorn officer. Which is about all I can tell you about the Gorn. He knows the pilot, and seems ....well, as friendly as a Gorn could. I think. I've never seen one this close before." He wore yellow, but wasn't one of hers, so she assumed he was engineering, or security, but Keval had asked for something other then a service jacket.

"So...two, technically. A third...." She swung her eyes about, looking first to the left, seeing no one that stood out , then to the right and - and did a double take. Her blue eyes widened and her mouth parted into a little 'o'. She felt herself freeze up a bit. "There appears to be a Cardassian in the lounge," Natalie quietly informed Keval. Quiet, as the man was quite near to them, his grey scales catching the low light, giving him an almost fearsome look bellied by a benign posture, hands folded on the table. "If i had to judge...civilian. And...amused." She'd seen a similar look on the late Lt. S'iti.

[ Dr. Silim Parnak (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Silim_Parnak) | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus @DocReno 
[Show/Hide]Without the bartender to question, Silim settled back into this chair. One thing he did have to say for Ives is that he certainly managed to collect a wide assortment of different races. Not only was this ship one of the largest that Starfleet had ever built, at least according to the Federation News Network, but it seemed to show the Federation’s celebration of diversity; Even if Parnak didn’t enjoy their choice in Romulans.

Trying to push Drauc from his mind, as there was no need to spend time thinking of him. It troubled Parnak, to know that the Romulan occupied such a position in his mind. He pondered as he stared out the window if it was in fact part of the telepathic meddling that Drauc had undergone. Was Silim losing his edge? After all these years, was he slowly forgetting what he had been taught so many years ago? No, it couldn’t be. Silim had the ability to recall anything he experienced. His eidetic mind, a by-product of the Cardassian schooling system, allowed him an ability over many other races.

One of the abilities that wasn’t good, at least in comparison to his human counterparts, was his hearing. It was well know that Cardassians couldn’t hear as well, which is why it was only as someone started to call out observations that Silim turned to follow the conservation. Apparently the Andorian and Human from the bar had relocated to a table, much closer to Parnak and now he could hear what was going on.

Pouring himself a new glass of Kanar, Parnak watched the attractive human as she turned and made rather obvious observations about those around her. As he brought the glass to his lips, she made eye contact with him. And oh, what eyes. Smiling, Silim raised his glass in a quick salute to her health before taking a taste of the vicious liquid. He wasn’t sure he couldn’t help but think that the woman wasn’t happy to see him. Parnak had seen this across his entire journey across the Federation and knew just what to do.

“Now now, don’t stop on my behalf my dear.” He spoke with clarity, ensuring that the woman heard him. “Is this game open for additional players or is it just a one on one?”

LT JG Alessia Garcia, Callsign "Angel" (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/images/thumb/9/9b/Alessia-Garcia-04.png/250px-Alessia-Garcia-04.png) | Vector 3, Deck 28 - Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy] ATTN: @Auctor Lucan, @steelphoenix , anyone else
[Show/Hide]
A furry, charcoal felinoid paused at the table with Dev's drink and some unfortunate news for Alessia.  As the cat-man lingered at the table, Alessia considered explaining how to make the drink she wanted.  It didn't take much to make it the way her abuela¹ always had.  Only 6 ingredients were needed: rice, water, vanilla, sugar, milk and cinnamon sticks.  She was certain they had a blender for mixed drinks, and if so then this blue man could blend the uncooked rice and water until they were chunky, let it sit for 3 hours and...

Alessia's face upturned to a grin.  She had no intention of being here long enough for the horchata to be ready.  But perhaps she could pass along the information for next time.  "Ah, well then si², have it replicated.  It is horchata spelled h-o-r-c-h-a-t-a^A, from the country of Spain on Earth.  I take mine with extra cinnamon, por favor³.  Oh, and i'll have a glass of agua, ah, water tambien⁴."

All growing up, Alessia had been surrounded by the faces and races of the Federation.  As a child, she hardly noticed any difference between her human, Vulcan and Andorian friends.  During her travels and rise through the ranks of Starfleet, she had met many more unusual species, some of which had become friends of hers.  She had even known a catian once, but this bartender was different.  She wondered what his story might be, but she was speaking with Dev already and it would be rude to begin a new conversation without ending the old one.  "Gracias⁵, bartender." 

With her attention now back to Dev, Alessia considered the questions she'd been asked.  It seemed she wasn't the only one grappling with her choices, and despite the resoluteness she'd shown her RIO earlier, Alessia couldn't help but wonder.  "Those that question 'the way things are' are indeed wise.  It is something my papi used to say.  Tomas Ravon and I flew together on the Kusanagi.  He was an effective leader and squadmate, and though our time together was brief, he is the kind of man you can trust.  He has that type of character.  In the time that I have known him, he has never lied to me.  But it's more than our history.  You heard his voice as he talked about why and saw his face, his motions.  He was unnerved by whatever happened involving that fighter and he was determined that everyone understand him.

"And you heard what the Captain said.  All that stuff about the entities from the future.  It's a lot to take in, but I think in a way it makes sense.  This ship and this crew have been enemies of the Federation for how long now?  And before that, they were exemplary in their service record.  We were told that the ship's AI had gone rogue and killed the crew or taken it hostage.  That has been the story all along.  We expected to find no living crew aboard this ship, only an intelligent weapon that had been corrupted and turned against us.  The fighters out there should have been on remote-pilot mode, all controlled by this Thea AI.  I think it made the story easier to swallow.  If we thought there was no life left aboard the ship, we'd have an easier time destroying it with no regrets.  Same with those fighters.

"But those were real people who fought and died out there.  And this ship is full of real people who, as best as i can tell, wish no one any harm.  Has anyone mistreated you or given you a reason to doubt that this ship is full of good people?  I know I have only experienced pleasantries with everyone I've met.  Why is that?  Why is the crew even alive?  This crew and this ship are protected by their AI, and while it's possible that she became corrupted, isn't it strange that this 'corruption' is only on ONE starship?  Why doesn't it affect the entire fleet or the task force?

"For that matter, why were we told to shoot on sight with weapons at maximum?  Once we discovered that there were people alive on board, isn't our mission and our duty to rescue as many of our comrades as possible?  Who knows what horrors they've seen; they deserve to go home. Instead, we were supposed to kill them, our brothers and sisters in Starfleet.  Kill them without a second thought, without trying to find out why, without even bothering to ask if each crew member shares the views of their captain.  Does that sound right to you?  Because it doesn't to me."

Alessia took a breath.  She hadn't expected such a powerful tirade, but she had just laid all her qualms bare for Dev to pick through.  She hadn't raised her voice and had mostly kept her tone passionately neutral, but the intensity behind those questions lingered.  This is what had been lingering in her mind.  This.  And sitting here in the lounge with Dev, she felt at peace and able to ask herself the tough questions.  Maybe even to admit that she was scared too.

"You asked why I trust them.  I believe in an entity that no one can see or hear or feel or meet, though throughout history many have claimed to be able to do so.  I believe that when I was small and afraid and prayed to him,
 he sent his angels to watch over me.  I believe that when I was older and lost my way, he brought me back to the light and gave me the strength I needed inside to get back on the right track.  I believe that he protects me when I'm out there and I pray to him for guidance before every mission.  I believe he's real and my faith allows me to see his invisible hands at work in my life and in the lives of others.  It may sound silly to you, but this faith that I have gets me through every day.

"For this crew, it's not so different.  They can't prove anything about this future menace and they have no concrete evidence, but it has touched their lives in some harrowing way and left invisible scars on each and every one of them.  It cannot be seen or heard or felt, but it is an ever-present threat in their minds and it affects their day-to-day life.  I don't know what is going on here, but I know that Starfleet is hiding something.  I can feel that in my gut.  Nothing about our last mission was right; i'm sure you felt it too.  What if this is what's wrong?  What if our leaders whom we trust to guide us to a better and brighter future are themselves corrupted?  Can you imagine the level of conspiracy it would take to keep that quiet?  And what if they were accidentally discovered?  Suddenly a war is declared on the sole person... or ship.. that made the discovery.  A manhunt is called for and the lonely ship is vilified or worse?  How many officers do you know who would question a commander's decisions?  How many enlisted men would go against their CO's orders?  Not many, I'm afraid.

"So yes, I believe them.  I believe that there is some plot within Starfleet against them and it goes deep enough that these so-called traitors are called to be executed on sight.  I have to follow what my heart says and where my gut leads, and something is telling me to stand beside these honorable people.  Because if I dont, who will?  They need an ally.  They need to see that not everyone in Starfleet hates them.  I will be their ally.  And if I am wrong, then.. well.. I'll get to see my brother again."

It was a sobering thought that Alessia might be on the wrong side of this battle, but nothing about these people indicated that.  The last thing she wanted to do was burn up in a blaze of glory, but if that was called for.. if it was her time, she'd go gladly into that good night.  After all, Jonas was waiting for her up there.  A sobering smile lit up her face and thoughts of her older brother filled her mind.  'After all this time, I still can't believe you're gone.. I miss you Jonas.'

But she was here with company in this noisy but upbeat establishment. This was no time to get teary-eyed.  Alessia wiped the corners of her eyes with her napkin.  "Ah, lo siento.  What about you?  What are your thoughts?"

---

1.) abuela = grandmother
2.) si = yes
3.) por favor = please
4.) tambien = also
5.) gracias = thank you

A.) Alessia spells words with the Spanish alphabet.  The letters are the same, but the sounds they make are different.  H, for example, would be written as "eych" or "aych" in english.  In Spanish, the letter is pronounced "ah-chey" or "ah-chay".  Also, r's are rolled (rr-rr-rr), ch is a separate letter (chey/chay) and vowels are monosyllabic (ah, eh, ii, oh, oo).  For purposes of her accent, she has spelled this....
"(H) ah-chay, (O) oh, (R) errray/air-ray, (CH) chay, (A) ah, (T) teh, (A) ah"

[ Devyrie "Dragon" Okhala (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Devyrie_Okhala,_callsign_%27%27Dragon%27%27) | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @steelphoenix & @Even Angels Cry 
[Show/Hide]Upon being served her drink, Devyrie had nodded in gratitude to the elusive bartender, but she made eye-contact with him when he kindly asked her to refrain from using the term she had for the Cardassian patron in the establishment. Weighing her choices, she decided that she was all too new aboard this renegade ship to afford to make an issue of it. She was not predisposed to come to fists - not at all - her reasons were just altogether too difficult to explain across a bar counter, involving the Tal'Shiar, the Obsidian Order and the Omarion Nebula in the Delta Quadrant. In fact... her father would never write her again if she discussed it with anyone.

"My apologies," she said instead, and looked towards Angel - sipping her drink.

Listening to the other White Wolf - likely to be a Lone Wolf on the morrow together with Devyrie - she kept her skepticism at the forefront of her mind, and let it pick apart what her sister wolf said. It was, without a doubt, the most sobering topic of discussion they'd shared over drinks. Those late nights in the lounges on Luna Base had never been so serious; so laced with horrible implications and controversial issues. Devyrie would share anecdotes about boys in the Academy who wanted to bed her just because of her Romulan heritage, and how she'd squashed their dreams under the heel of her boot every time. Yet Alessia has mentioned her faith during those talks, so that particular bit was not new to Dev.

Despite it all, the most simple explanation remained the alleged 'lies' of Starfleet Command. The very lies Angel mentioned. Was it not easier explained the way they had been told; that Thea had gone rogue, killed everyone aboard, and the ship had to be destroyed lest no one in the Federation were safe. Remote controlled fighters, aye, she remembered that.

And... she just remembered that they had even been told something else. That if they were to be hailed, the people that were to be seen on their screens... were merely holograms, created by the rogue A.I.

This had been offered to her by Captain Marcus Slayton during one of the briefings on the Orcus, and in the back of her mind, it had stuck. Slayton had offered his own theory, that Captain Ives had reprogrammed the A.I. hirself, being the only organic aboard the Theurgy, so that the Chameloid could operate the systems the A.I. was hard-wired not to. Devyrie, however, had chosen to refrain from making up her mind on her own theories.

Now, however, when reminded about the lone artificial sentience theory, Devyrie looked around the lounge with new eyes, feeing a cold shiver running up her spine. This ship was fitted with a ship-wide hologrid, was it not? she thought, and stopped herself from swallowing when she looked at the officers in the lounge. What if they are not truly here? Are they merely holographic ghosts of the people that served on this ship?

Turning back to look into Angel's eyes, she clenched her jaw. After a moment, she refuted the idea that her sister wolf was dead too. If I am still alive... and because of what she just said about her faith... she must be alive too.

"I think," she said, and downed her kali-fal before standing up, "I need to go Lower Shuttle Bay. Right now. I forgot something." That her mind was reeling had nothing to do with the drink. They had tricorders on their fighters. Those aboard the Theurgy could not be trusted.

Seikkea kllhe... They might all be dead. Father wrote 'Auroto'... meaning 'ghost'. Could it be?

She leaned in close to Angel, whispering under her breath in hope that the Kzin would not hear her. She even grinned, as if telling a lover an invitation to follow. "Check the ceiling. See the emitter? The Razor you knew might not be the one we met. If you want to stay, I'll return here, but I can't let this go. I have to make sure they are still alive..."

Then, she walked towards the door, throwing a sultry glance towards Angel, and keeping the fear out of her eyes. Her Father had taught her well since she was a child. She was his only student, but she'd never thought she'd be in the kind of situations he'd been in when she chose to become a pilot.

Father, I really hope this is not what you meant.

[ Jaya Thorne (https://orig05.deviantart.net/12e0/f/2016/300/a/4/imgpsh_fullsize_by_auctor_lucan-damefg0.png) |  Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn @Kaligos , @DocReno , @steelphoenix , anyone else
[Show/Hide]
Jaya caught the last couple lines of the nearby Andorian as he spoke some kind of poetry to the human girl he was with.  Obviously he was trying hard to woo her; too hard in Jaya's opinion.  But he seemed distracted.  She watched him move off toward a table with a view of outer space, but not before he said something that captured her attention.  He owed drinks to the Allegiant pilot?  Jaya was the Allegiant pilot!  There had been at least two people that Jaya owed drinks to for saving her ass, and one or two who's asses she'd saved.. so which one was this one?  She took note of which table the couple chose to sit at.  She would inquire about that Andorian later.  For now, her attention was drawn back to the bar by the fuzzy figure moving towards her.

"You!"  As the bartender stood opposite Jaya's stool and addressed her, she instantly recognized him by face.  "You're the one who beamed aboard the ship at the last second!"  Her senses flew into high alert and she reacted by reaching for the phaser that no longer hung and her hip.  Her hand patted her leg under the bar, fingers anxious and eyes wary.  But just like before, he did not seem to be a threat.. simply an unexpected presence.  She scowled at him, but could do nothing more.  At the mention of her favorite drink being Federation contraband, she exasperated a disgusted sound.  "For crying out loud.. ok just give me the strongest drink you have.  i don't care what it is.  And make it a double."

With her new mystery drink ordered, questions about this bartender sprang into her mind.  "There's only one Gorn on this ship, and I'm meeting him here soon.  I guess you'd remember him seeing as he nearly decked you on the bridge of my ship.  Speaking of that, where did you even come from?  And how are you not in a holding cell somewhere?   I can't believe that they'd just give you free reign of the ship."  It wasn't disgust or contempt that she wore on her face; it was curiosity.  In almost any other situation, beaming yourself aboard the bridge of a ship got you tossed into the brig.  Yet here was this furry catman, serving her drinks like he'd been the bartender for years.  It was all a bit.. unorthodox.

The idle chitchat was soothing for Jaya.  This is where she felt the most at home, three sheets to the wind and listening to the hubbub going on around her.  She hadn't always been a heavy drinker, but everyone has to start somewhere.  She started in the juvenile detention center on Deneva.  Alcohol was illegal, of course, but she had resources and that made her valuable.  It also made her a target.  Jaya's fingers traced a line perpendicular to the scars on her face.  Her fingertips crisscrossed smooth skin to rough skin and back each time they encountered one of the long-healed marks.  She could have them fixed, of course.  She could make it so that her body was completely unblemished.  But then where would the story be?  They were a part of her and as much as they marred her face and neck, she would feel incomplete without them.  She was a survivor and these marks proved it.  She had been resourceful and clever, and in the end she had triumphed over those seeking to oppress her.  It was the first real step she'd taken toward working to be a better person, a 'good' person.  The kind of person her father would respect; the kind of daughter he'd want to be around.  Maybe if-

Sithick's hand clapped Jaya's shoulder and broke her train of thought.  She jumped at the sudden, scaly weight pressing on her back and calmed only slightly when she realized who it was.  He still made her uneasy, but now it wasn't because she feared for her life.  "Heh, hey Sithick.  I wasn't sure you were gonna show up."  She cracked a loose smile.  Had he honestly gone back to work today?  It appeared so.  Granted, there was a lot to do around the ship.. especially in areas of his expertise... but wasn't he injured?  Jaya glanced down at his arm.  "How's the arm?  My head's still spinning a little and my vision isn't completely clear but eh, no big deal."  She wasn't bleeding anymore and for the most part she felt fine.  Alcohol would help her feel better though.  And help her start this friendship thing with Sithick.

[Lieutenant Keval ch'Rayya | Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attention: @Brutus, @Even Angels Cry

Keval quietly listened to her and slowly nodded as she listed each thing off in turn to which he gave her a small smile. "Very good..quite good actually since you caught the facial aspect right off the bat of the pilot as attention to detail is always important no matter the field one is in, true?"

Keval's smile then disappeared as he closed his light blue eyes and without turning around he replayed the last few moments in his mind. "I know the cardassian in passing as he was briefly on the Resolve before we lost her how ever did you notice the TaCon pilot that's trying to covertly watch him, the one with white hair, almost like she's expecting him to pull or do something against everyone in the room."

The andorian then tilted his head to the left a little bit, "Also the same pilot is acting like everyone is not above suspicion..a good trait to have but the way she's going about it might cause problems in the near future." He opened his eyes long enough to fix Natalie with his eyes on her's. "Not really a threat but possibly someone who might need counseling." he added in a lighter tone.

He then closed his eyes again then his brow furrowed just a little bit, "The red-haired pilot that mentioned the gorn that just walked in, his translator needs adjusting I think..you can tell that something is making him nervous just by the way he moves, watch the minute details. He's looking out for the woman who's he is friends with almost like it's second nature." he continued before chuckling and opening his eyes again, "Also I apparently said something that caught the same pilot's attention, I could almost feel her eyes at my back as I headed over here after trying to brighten everyone's spirits."

Keval then took a sip from his glass and set it back down. "It's exercises like that help to keep the mind sharp but rest assured I'm not paranoid, I can assure you of that." he said honestly before both his expression and tone turned more gentle. "By the way, how is your hand?"

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Below Decks | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy 01 ]Atten: @DocReno @Arista 
[Show/Hide]
As Keval gave back his feedback and - if she followed correctly - his praise, Natalie managed a soft smile, though she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, biting down on it, when she saw the Cardassian drawing her eyes, her gaze back to his. It had to be a practieced gesture, the way he smiled and then raised his drink slightly. Oh, damn, she thought, I've been caught. The reasonable thing to do would be to return the acknowledgment. And Natalie was a senior officer after all. She had a duty to portray the ship and its crew as best as she could.

And she was loath to let any lingering prejudices color her interactions with someone. As such, she gave a tiny nod, before blinking and looking back at Keval, "Oh, he was on your ship?" That would explain how the man got onto the Theurgy. Because she knew he hadn't been on the ship prior to the assault on the starbase. From there, she leaned her head forward, listening as Keval went into a bit of detail about those that she missed entirely. The man was extremely perceptive. She had to admit, if only to herself, that it was quite impressive. Perhaps just another reason he was in Tactical/Command track.

Personally, I think you're professionally paranoid, Lt. ch'Rayya Natalie concluded, but that certainly doesn't make you wrong, now does it? We probably all need a bit of consoling and therapy, not just your suspicious pilot. She had seen enough these past few months to wonder if she would always be paranoid.

But then he asked about her hand, and she, blushing a bit, as her gaze went right down the oher hand. She wiggled her fingers a bit, turning the palm up to look at it, delicately wrapped as it was. "Stings a bit. My own fault though," she  confessed, wondering if the Cardassian heard all of that too. Was it her imagination or was he scooting the chair a bit closer? Sure enough, he was, as he leaned over and chimed in, stopping Natalie's words in her tracks.

"Now now, don't stop on my behalf my dear." He spoke with clarity, ensuring that the woman heard him. "Is this game open for additional players or is it just a one on one?"

His voice was smooth, and to Natalie's immense surprise, quite pleasing. In fact, it seemed both men she was currently engaged in convesration with - there was no way to pretend the Cardassian was not talkint to her, after all - were gifted with voices that enticed the ear. Quite different from one another, of course, but that added to the audible enjoyment. Which to be fair, was not something Natalie had relalized she was quite so aware of, until right then in there. Perhaps it was because the voice eased the fearsome countenance the low lights gifted both men with? Regardless, the civilian had spoken up, and it would be highly rude of her to ignore him.

"I'm not entirely sure," she admitted, "This is Lt. ch'Rayya's game after all." See, I can be pleasant. I'm not all self mutilation and embarrassment Thus mentally fortified, she extended her undamaged hand - as she had with the Andorian Lieutenant - towards the man, swallowing any lingering emotions over the similarities between him and the very recently deceased Lt. S'iti. "Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark, at your service."

[Lieutenant Keval ch'Rayya | Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attention: @Brutus , @Even Angels Cry , @Arista

When Natalie asked if the "good" Cardassian Doctor had been apart of the Resolve, Keval shook his head. "No, he was an innocent that was caught up in the insanity of that was happening on the starbase, Miss Stark." he explained as he took
a sip of his own drink and gave her an honest warm smile. "A few people like my late commanding officer used to joke that I was professionally paranoid when he knew that it's more along deductive thinking, keeping one's self appraised of everything..much along
the lines of the Old Earth character of Sherlock Holmes only applied tactically." he explained before saluting her with his glass.

When she moved the fingers of her injured hand, he gave her a concerned look. "Me, I'd blame the 'Verse for allowing such a thing to happen, Natalie." he said, relaxing just a little bit around the human
officer and was about ready to ask what had happened to it when suddenly he was slightly eclipsed by Silim's shadow and he looked up into the Cardassian's face with a mild chuckle when he asked if it was a private game or not but he honestly
couldn't help but chuckle at Natalie's response. "Very well then, my good Cardassian, using only what you see..tell me what you think of say, the human and gorn over at the bar but not loudly, this is more of a mental excercise then a game."

[ Deacon | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Arista , @Auctor Lucan , @Even Angels Cry , @Nolan , @Havenborn , @Kaligos , etc

The female who had requested the horchata proceeded to... spell?... the word it seemed, although not in any appreciable way that Deacon could understand.  Did the humans have additional dialects?  It was possible, he supposed, but clearly uncommon outside of Federation circles and certainly not used in any official capacity.  He supposed that was the reason he was never asked to learn more than their common tongue.  He wondered, had his circumstances been otherwise, if he might be more familiar with their nuances.  But for that matter, would he have even cared?

A moment later, the romulan beside her rose and whispered something to the human.  Deacon's ears flicked slightly as a sense of discomfort moved through him -- fear? Paranoia?  Whatever it was, she excused herself from the lounge as if she'd seen a lingering specter behind the bar.  With a shrug, Deacon return to his duties, shaking off any momentary concern he might have had.

The latest female nearly leaped upon seeing him, calling him out as the one who had beamed aboard the ship at the last moment.  He supposed that did tend to leave a bit of an impression, and as he searched his memory of the events, he did vaguely recall seeing her aboard even as he worked to make sense of the chaotic situation of that moment while simultaneously trying to avoid a gorn -- likely the very gorn she was inquiring about.

At the anticipated arrival of the gorn, he narrowed his golden eyes as if wondering if there would be a further need to joust with the giant reptillian creature.  When he spoke through the translator, Deacon cocked his head slightly, listening instead to the words coming from his mouth.  Curious that he didn't choose to speak the language of the Gorn.  If he didn't miss his guess, it was an orion dialect.

He responded in low kolari -- one of the two orion tongues he'd mastered during his training with the Black Priests, "Hot chocolate?  Your translator device could use some tuning."

Turning his attention back to the gorn's companion, he answered her questions, "Where I came from is a long and arduous story that I would prefer to disclose to your captain.  The short answer is that I had been a..." he rolled his eyes upward as if to snare the appropriate term from the ceiling, "guest on that starbase your ship was combating and I decided it was an opportune time to take my leave.  I suppose I never had the most appropriate sense of timing.  But the Fanged God provides and here I am.  And I would imagine that I'm not sitting in one of your holding cells because I've managed admirably to avoid eating anyone."  The whiskers over one eye gave a playful arch as his tail twitched back and forth in short sets.

Turning to the replicator, Deacon placed the orders the he'd been given.  "Horchata with extra cinnamon por favor... and whatever a water tambien is.  One hot chocolate," he said, casting a glance in the gorn's direction and amending, "extra large."  As the beverages materialized, he retrieved them one by one, glaring momentarily at his hand and its persistent numbness, and placed them on the counter. 

"Horchata with extra cinnamon por favor," he said, placing it before the first female who'd been speaking only recently with the romulan.  "And I specified a water tambien, but the replicator just gave me water.  Perhaps that recipe has not been added to the system yet."  Truth be told, he could smell the cinnamon in the horchata, but whatever a por favor was, it seemed to lack any distinct scent to stand out.  He imagined it might well be some special type of cinnamon -- perhaps a regional variant?

He slipped the large hot chocolate in front of the gorn, adding, "Given your size, I took the liberty of requesting a larger portion."

For the gorn's companion, however, Deacon had to admit he was at a loss.  She had requested a double of the strongest drink he had.  After the day's events, there were precious few actual bottles of alcohol left in the bar, and given Deacon did not drink, he would be hard pressed to tell which of the two remaining bottles was harder than the other, or if she wished something specifically synthesized from the replicator.  Pursing his lips slightly, he retrieved the bottle of breshtanti ale and poured out a double shot of the clear liquid, sliding it before her.  "I am uncertain of whether it is the strongest, but it is one of the few remaining, and I've heard tales that klingons find it enjoyable, if that is any indication."

LT JG Alessia Garcia, Callsign "Angel" (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/images/thumb/9/9b/Alessia-Garcia-04.png/250px-Alessia-Garcia-04.png) | Vector 3, Deck 28 - Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy] ATTN: @Auctor Lucan, @steelphoenix , anyone else
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Alessia watched Dev as the Romulan took in all that she had to say.  They were silent for several minutes after she finished speaking, but Alessia didn't mind.  She had said many things that went against most cultures way of thinking.  At least Devyrie wasn't mocking her or debating her.  The silence implied thought processing instead of outright dismissal.

The lounge around Alessia was humming with activity and she took this rare moment to soak it in.  A woman sat at the bar beside, of all things, a Gorn.  Over near the observation window, another woman sat with.. Sehl?!  Alessia stared across the room at the male Andorian until she noticed the broken antennae.  It wasn't Sehl, but from this distance, they could have been brothers.  She wondered who this man was as she continued her glance about the room.  Many of the tables were occupied, but most of the faces were common fare for a Federation starship.  She noticed the Cardassian as he moved to join or perhaps just converse with Sehl's lookalike, and glanced back at Dev.  Romulans and Cardassians were famous for not getting along, but this one seemed to pose no threat.. at least for now.

Dev didn't even seemed phased by the Cardassian, but perhaps that was because her mind was elsewhere.  The Romulan was looking at Alessia, but there was no intensity behind her stare.  It was as though she was peering through Alessia, perhaps looking inward or still lost in thought.  Dev's body held the position of someone keen on conversation with an old friend, but there was a far-off look about her face.  When Dev did finally look at Angel, the woman spoke a polite goodbye, downed her drink and stood.

Alessia thought she'd be enjoying Dev's company for at least a little longer.  She hadn't even received her drink yet!  She turned towards Dev as the woman leaned in, intending to wish her a good evening, when Dev disarmed her with a grin.  The Romulan leaned in close and Alessia shivered unexpectedly as Dev's breath played across her ear.  What was she up trying?  Alessia had never inquired about the sexual preferences of her flight mates before, but it occurred to her suddenly that she may want to inform Dev that, while flattered, she preferred men.

But the words that Dev spoke were conspiratory rather than romantic.  Alessia tried to wipe the confusion from her face as Dev stood and strolled through the lounge door.  She was still watching Dev as the woman cast a back glance and gave Alessia a sultry wink that made her cheeks blush brightly.  Just what was that pilot up to?

Flustered and now curious, Alessia waited somewhat impatiently for her drink to arrive.  When the bartender brought it, she thanked him.  "Gracias, bartender.  It's just Horchata with cinnamon.  The Por favor is Spanish for please.  Lo Sien-  ..I mean, I'm sorry.  I forget that the translator doesn't always change every words to Federation Standard.
  And gracias.. or, thank you, for the water.  Tambien is another Spanish word.  It means also.  Perhaps I will come by tomorrow and teach you my abuela, my grandmother's recipe for horchata."  She smiled at him as she took both her drinks and tested the horchata.  The flavor wasn't bad, a little watery for her preference but the cinnamon brightened it right up. 

Aessia spent a few minutes drinking both her drinks while sitting alone at her table.  From what she saw and heard, Dev was on a mission of some kind.  Something personal and perhaps a little paranoid, but it was important to Dev.  As she finished her horchata, Alessia decided she should go along as well.  It was just a little trip to the Lower Shuttle Bay.  No harm would come of it and Alessia would be there to support her friend.

With her water half gone and the other cup empty except for the ice, Alessia stood up from the table and walked out of the lounge.  If Dev hadn't waited for her, she at least knew where the Romulan was headed.

[ PO2 Sithick | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Even Angels Cry , @Arista @Auctor Lucan @steelphoenix @DocReno
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Sithick felt a little more awkward around others, he could feel all sides staring at him and to be fair that wasn't really the worst thing he could think of. Most people looked over him with curiosity at some point in their meeting, but he had always found a way to keep out of the public eye. He never liked being the center of attention.

Meeting Jaya was a little less stressful than it had been in the past. The woman had always been his stalker, but before she had always been more subtle about it, darting away or pretending like she was trying to avoid him while at the same time cat and mousing him so that she was seemingly always around where he was working. It seemed the last battle had calmed her, and made him more approachable which was fantastic as right now he could definitely use a friend.

"The arm is hardening, new scales growing over damaged ones, in a few days the new scales will be just as tough as the old." He lifted the scaled appendage showing her where the light green skin was starting to darken to match with his other uninjured arm. It would take time, but slowly the two would harden and he would be himself again. At least on the outside.

Especially after what had happened just an hour prior with Lahkesis, the meeting with her and all subsequint events after that had shaken him and stirred up weird immoral thoughts around him. He swallowed wondering if he should have just stayed in bed, as the bar tender brought him the Hot chocolat he of course recognized the creature as the one he had attempted to punch while floating on the bridge of the Allegiant during their last battle.

"Translator is not broken, this is intentional." Sithick said  picking up the hot drink and dipping his head so that it was over the steam. The hotter air wafting up from the drink made him feel more at ease with the atmosphere. "Human's look at me and think 'predator' or that I eat them, the voice I selected is female in nature, and because some find it funny it disarms them. Allowing me to go about my business. I would rather be looked at with humour than terror."

He could imagine that this other creature probably understood his feeling of not wanting to be feared. He gave a small shrug, and thanked him for the larger cup. Lowering his head he dipped his tongue into the bowl careful not to open his mouth too much. He never felt comfortable, doing so in this situation and heaven forbid if he yawned. So instead of drinking it and chance breaking the glass, Sithick lapped at the cup like an animal would.

"Though." He turned towards Jaya, attempting something he had not done with her before, a joke. "I'm certain I'd eat anything at least once."

[ Dr. Silim Parnak (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Silim_Parnak) | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus @DocReno  Anyone
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The human before him, who certainly was not troublesome to look at, extended her hand in the classic way that all humans did. The handshake was a bit of an oddity but something he had started to become accustomed to. In this regard, he decided to mix things up a bit. Parnak took the fingers of her extended right hand with his left and gently twisted them to move her hand so that her palm faced down. He bowed slightly, as much as he could in the chair, before bringing her knuckles towards his face - his lips close to her hand but not actually touching. After a few seconds he moved back upright, the formal kissing of her hand complete. Part of him regretted having to let go, her skin was delicately soft and warm, there was something intrinsically pleasing about this woman. In the back of his mind, he quipped over her offer of service. However, Parnak was too much of a gentleman to utter such crudities out loud.

“Charmed.” He began, the smile returning to his face. He watched, drowning in the blue pools of her eyes.  “I’m Doctor Silim Parnak, pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Although he would probably like to spend all evening and perhaps even some of the morning with the human. Parnak’s attention was drawn from this woman when her Andorian friend spoke. Obviously, the instigator of this little game, Parnak couldn’t help but grin wider, an amused, mischeavous and almost predatory gesture. “Well Lieutenant, we’ll just have to see how ‘good’ I really am after my observations.” Staring unashamedly, he watched the comings and goings within the room and bar area for a few seconds before beginning.

“The Gorn, Male, approximately…” He trailed off for the briefest of moments as he calculated mentally “...late twenties to early thirties, I would say. Looking at the way in which he stands, alongside the sidelong glances that he is not accustomed to, or happy with being in large crowds. This would, to me, indicate that he is a relatively new member to the ship, as besides the pilot that he is with there is minimal interaction. The way he looks and speaks with the pilot, I would surmise there is some form of relationship but not sexual, almost protectionary.” The way Silim spoke was quiet and almost clinical, heeding the words from the Andorian about levels of volume within the slowly filling bar.

“The human, similar age to the Gorn, is more flamboyant. She is used to the public eye and getting what she wants from it. The scarring is deliberate, a choice to ensure those who see it know she is tough, and possibly also as a visual reminder to herself that she is fallible. I would say the overconfidence holds some secret key to her past from a time where she was hurt, and the need to be in control is what pushes her, both in and out of the pilot seat.” Her need to prove herself could also mean that she would be a strong and interesting lover, but Parnak chose not to vocalize that thought, certainly not in the present company.

“So at the surface, I would say friends, but if I were to look into it further, I would suspect some form of undertone to the relationship. In this case, I would guess the Gorn a nursemaid and the girl his charge…” Once again, Silim trailed off, this time to his conclusion. One last time did he look over the pair from across the room, before nodding, happy with this assessment and turned his attention back to those beside him. The Andorian said this was more of an exercise than a game. As such Silim prepared himself for feedback.

“And so, how did I do?”

[ Deacon | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Even Angels Cry , @Kaligos , etc


As the female who had requested the horchata made her explanation, it confirmed Deacon's suspicions that she had been speaking some uncommon Earth dialect.  Curious that it would be so dissimilar to the common tongue that humans had fostered off world.  He would have to make it a point to see how many such dialects remained in use, if only for intellectual curiosity.  When she went so far as to offer to teach him a recipe, he considered just how many of the crew may well desire this beverage or if she was offering from a position of self-interest, but either way, priding himself on his proferred skills, he gave a nod and replied, "I have not yet determined reasonable hours for the meal services.  I will be working on that tomorrow, once I've had the opportunity to survey our supplies, but I will likely be here."  He started to walk away before pausing and giving her another look.  "I will make sure there is fresh cinnamon."

The gorn, however, was another matter.  His explanation regarding the translator was revealing, and although his original critique had been more a matter of the unnatural adaptive flow of the the syntax, the gorn had assumed he was referring to the artificially synthesized feminine tone it utilized.  He then regarded the gorn drinking the hot chocolate like a some sort of herd beast, face buried in the cup, tongue lapping.  The kzin narrowed his golden eyes in consideration before turning to the replicator, providing it with a series of quick specifications.

A moment later, he stepped up to the gorn once more, holding out an object that looked much like what the humans might call a straw, although somewhat wider and flatter.  "Here.  Kzinti use these when they have injured their jaws and need to take in nutrients."  It wasn't exactly the truth.  Kzinti too injured to eat were often left to die.  But telling him these were to help kzinti children transition from the teat would defeat the purpose he had in mind.  He would have to pray that the Fanged God forgave this small fabrication.  Taking a deep breath, his demeanor relaxing somewhat, he added quietly for only the gorn to hear, "Instead of humor or terror, we get them to regard you with respect, hrm?"

On some level, and despite their initial introductions, he actually felt some sympathy and understanding for the gorn's awkwardness.  He'd caught the wary and fearful stares of more humans than he cared to dwell on, and that was long before he'd made his way to Starbase 84.  It didn't help that his people were known carnivores with rapacious appetites for sentients -- no one knew that he, himself, had never engaged in such an act, but he similarly wasn't averse to using that to his advantage when necessary.  The appropriate application of fear could off-set unnecessary hostilities.  He'd proven that aptly enough with the assault he'd helped with earlier in the day.

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Below Decks | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy 01 ]Atten: @DocReno  @Arista 
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While Keval spoke, the Cardassian took her hand in his, but hte wrong hand. She was unsure just what he was up to, right before he raised her knuckles to his scaled lips, though he didn't quite touch the skin. Simply, he hovered over her, and yet, the gesture did not lack intimacy for the lack of direct oral contact. Far from it, in fact. Archaic, perhaps, but no less charming, nor less inciting. It led a warmth and civility to a potentially frightening set of features. And truth be told, Natalie found it as welcome as she did surprising.

It seems both of these gentlemen are surprising me tonight. The evening is not a total waste after all. After her run in with Hi'Jak and the pilot from the Resolve, and her own buffoonery, to find such pleasant company in the affable Lt. ch'Rayya - Keval, she reminded herself, and the equally graceful ...Silim Parnak? Well, things were certainly looking up for Natalie Stark. She curled her fingers in against her palm, feeling where the Cardassian's touch hand lingered, even as she settled her hand to her chest, pretending for all the world that, as with Keval, Silim had not just sent her face aflame. Surely, the low lighting of the lounge would allow her to retain some of her dignity, wouldn't it?

While she kept lying to herself - easy to do after as many glasses of wine as she'd had, and in the company of such strikingly hansom men -  Dr. Parnak did indeed engage in Lt. ch'Rayya's game. And impressively so! She noted, keeping her left hand down, in her lap, and letting her right reach out and run over the stem of her wine glass. She resisted the urge to applaud when he finished - sore hand being what it was - but a bright smile did blossom onto her face. Alcohol induced, perhaps. Or simply she was enjoying herself, despite how harrowing the day had been.

"My, that was quite thorough, Doctor," she congratulated him. "The two of you make me look like quite the amateur by comparison." She gave them both a quick wink to show she was far from slighted.

[ Devyrie "Dragon" Okhala (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Devyrie_Okhala,_callsign_%27%27Dragon%27%27) | Corridor Outside the Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Even Angels Cry 
[Show/Hide]Outside the Below Decks Lounge, beyond the corner of the sliding doors, Devyrie waited for Angel to come out, hoping she got the hint and would accompany her. Her heart was still beating quickly in her chest, hoping that she was wrong, but unable to shake the idea that she might be right. She ran her palms over her denim trousers, looking at her boots in thought. She fidgeted with her black tank top and pulled up her Tactical CONN hoodie over her white hair, trying to keep herself from looking up in case there was a surveillance device monitoring her.

When, Angel finally emerged, she made a low whistle to catch her attention, gesturing for her to come around the corner. Once she  finally did, Devyrie took up acting like they were lovers again. She smiled and put her hands on Anegl's hips, pulling her in close so that her mouth was almost touching hers. She tilted her head, making it look like she was slanting her lips across hers, and her green eyes were hooded, as if being really into it. Nonetheless, she spoke of her suspicions, their breaths mixing.

"Shh, play along. She might be watching," she whispered, leaning back against the wall and running her hands up Angel's sides. Their legs were scissored, and despite her fright, Devyrie was making delighted little sound sthat surely any recording would pick up. She whispered again, more urgently. "What if it's true? The things about Thea going rogue? Think about it!"

Despite how it might appear, their lips never met, and since Devyrie needed to whisper in Angel's ear, she pretended to start kissing her neck - hands roaming her sister wolf. "You read about the A.I., right? How it was able to interact with the crew on all decks of this ship. That means there is a ship-wide hologrid installed everywhere aboard. We are essentially on a big holodeck. Don't you see? It is the most obvious explanation!"

She leaned her head back, biting her lower lip as if she was deriving pleasure out of the intimate closeness of Angel - baring her neck to her lower. She hoped she acted the part well enough for any artificial intelligence watching them, before she finally went for the other side of Angel's neck - lips barely grazing the skin since she needed to speak. "Captain Ives had Thea kill all of the crew, or she did it herself. All the people aboard the Theurgy are just holograms, and we might be replaced too. Everything we've seen, the recording and the Reaver warp fighter, it has all been an illusion, created to keep us calm, so that the A.I. may kill us all in our sleep."

Putting her hands on Angel's bottom, she pulled her closer. "Think about it for a moment! We need to get to our fighters, and we need the tricorders we have there - ones that the A.I. couldn't have replaced. We need to make sure this crew is still alive."

[Lieutenant Keval ch'Rayya | Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attention: @Brutus , @Even Angels Cry , @Arista

Keval nodded in appreciation of the cardassian's views but kept his own opinions to himself but when he heard Natalie's comment, he turned to face the human before gently and politely lay a reassuring hand on her right forearm before shaking his head lightly. "This is in no way to prove who sees more but it's more of an exercise like I said. I apologize if there was any offense." he said with a polite bow of his head.

Keval then turned to regard the cardassian, "So tell me then my young friend, what can you tell me about me from our limited interactions over the last few days?" he offered up as a new challenge, his face turning into what the scientist would recognize as one intuitive thinker challenging another.

[ Jaya Thorne (https://orig05.deviantart.net/12e0/f/2016/300/a/4/imgpsh_fullsize_by_auctor_lucan-damefg0.png) |  Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn @Kaligos , @DocReno , @steelphoenix , anyone else
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Jaya accepted the Breshtanti Ale with a raised eyebrow.  She hadn't tried this drink yet, but if Klingons liked it, then perhaps she would too.  She admired the transparent liquid in her glass as she gave it a swirl.  She wasn't supposed to drink for 24 hours.  That had been a reiterated caution from her morning trip to Sickbay.  But the day had been long and too eventful to NOT have a drink.  At least just this one.. 

Her head spun as she watched the ale form a mini vortex in her glass.  It hadn't taken much motion to create, but now that her drink was spinning, she couldn't look at it.  In one swift motion, the brunette shut her brown eyes and tipped back the alcohol.  The glass was cool and comforting, resting on her lips like an old friend.  The ale filled her mouth at once with a mild, sweet flavor not unlike a flower field on a spring day.  In fact.. it tasted like roses?  How strange!  It was in fact a pleasant drink, something she could kick back frequently and probably end up entirely too drunk on!  Even the aftertaste wasn't bad: a little bitter but she had been expecting that, and even the bitternes had fruity, floral overtones.  If she didn't know better, Jaya would swear this tasted a lot like some of the vintage Earth wines she'd sampled.  

She smiled as the liquid made it's way through her system.  Already, she was feeling more like herself.  "Well,
 that was excellent!  if you don't mind, I'll have another.  Maybe two!"  Jaya grinned as she pushed her empty glass towards the opposite side of the bar.  Oh yes, she was feeling MUCH better!  Not drunk yet, gods no.  Not even buzzed, but warm and relaxed.  She glanced at Sithick with his hot chocolate.  What a strange choice!  Never in a million years would she have guessed that a gorn might like hot chocolate.  Her glance became a stare as she found herself unable to turn away.  What was he doing??  Was he seriously going to lick the chocolate into his mouth!?  Her eyes traversed his jawline.  If it was anything like a snake's, couldn't he just open his mouth wide and tip the drink directly down his throat?  Did he even have tastebuds with which to enjoy the flavor?

It hadn't occurred to Jaya that inviting a literal monster out for drinks was probably not the best idea until this moment.  Thankfully, the bartender was also acutely aware of Sithick's spectacle and in short order produced the weirdest looking straw she'd ever seen.  It was long and mostly flat, but maybe that was a good thing.  Sithick didn't have lips like hers; lips that could grip, suck and hold onto whatever she decided to put in her mouth.  Her lips followed the surface contour of whatever she placed them on, thus making it easier for sucking on roundish objects.  Like straws.  Or...

That thought brought a slight blush to Jaya's cheeks and she looked back to the bartender.  He was at least fuzzy, and she guessed he would be fun to sleep with.  Hopefully soft.  Warm, if nothing else.  Her eyes surveyed the room as her thoughts bounced from one person to the next.  She was rating their possible sexual prowess based on their interactions, their demeanor and their looks.  There were even a couple women in the room that she wondered about.  It was something she hadn't tried yet, mostly because she lost her confidence around women.  Men she could charm, that was easy.  But women were usually more interested in intellect or books or other passions on the mind.  Jaya had very few hobbies and she doubted that her collection of miniature model ships, while vast, would impress another lady.  Plus, she really didn't think she was that smart.  Schooling and books hadn't held her interest, so most of her learning she picked up by doing.  Yep, better stick to the male sex.  She knew them better anyway.

Sitchik's voice caught Jaya's ear and she turned back to look at him.  He had cracked a joke.  A terrible joke.  He was even attempting a smile, which she only knew because she had seen it before.  Sithick's 'grin' looked like a chamber of death as he mouth gaped slightly open and all his teeth were on display.  She laughed once, more in surprise than anything else, and shook her head.  "You're really bad at jokes, you know?  I'm not so good either but.. heh, maybe next time leave out the part where you suggest that you might eat a crewmate.  Haha.  Anyway.. other than the sickbay thing, how was your day?  What did you do?"

This was the hard part.  The icebreaker questions.  She needed so much more alcohol right this instant!

[ PO2 Sithick | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Even Angels Cry , @Arista @Auctor Lucan @steelphoenix @DocReno
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Sithick lifted his head slightly curious as he regarded the straw. It was embarassing to lap at the drink, but the idea of actually opening his mouth to it's full extent here was also completely mortifying so the straw seemed to be the happy medium. Taking the thing in one of his claws he regarded it for a moment, placing it in his drink and, then slowly taking his first drink of the hot chocolate.

In an instant Sithick was hit with comperehension of the straw's use, the sudden ability to get more of the drink into his maw than ever before was satisfying, and the hot chocolate was by far the most delicious thing he had ever had in his life time. If he had tear ducts this would have been a moment to use them if for nothing else but the sheer feeling of joy that had been produced in this moment.

The conversation was also confusing. Respect? Sithick had been a slave most of his life to the Orions respect was earned through fear and force, more than once he had both seen and felt what happened to those who showed disrespect towards their superiors in the syndicate. The word meant something different in the Federation, the first time he had worn the uniform he had felt such pride about it. It had been the first time he had ever felt the proper respect his recent promotion to Petty Officer Second class had gotten him some steps, but he just chuckled. Rather than giving more of his life story. "Respect? I can't even get cadets or ensigns to listen to me. I've been repairing ships since I was large enough to walk, I've never even been planet side, and yet these... whelps still think I'm going to attack them the moment one of them falls down. The only friend I have is."

Sithick indicated towards Jaya, and silenced himself with another drink from the straw. He rested his head on one arm propping himself up with an elbow. "Is not bad idea, just funny dream. Even the chief engineer calls me Alligator, whatever that is, though me thinks he doesn't like to use the proper name of things. Still... If I was allowed a wish... I'd have liked to be the chief engineer of a star-ship. Not that I will ever have that now."

Sithick let out a heavy sigh. It was at least some part of the cost of joining up with this whole traitor ship is that they would never really have anything more than just this ship. Progression through the ranks seemed impossible in that regard. Though this ship did supposedly have five former chief engineers before. It seemed like a cursed position at that rate.

Just when his mood was starting to dower, however Jaya laughed at his previous joke and chimed in. He supposed she was right, one step towards earning that respect would be not joking about eating others, it was a bit of a two way street in that regard.

When she asked about what else he had done, his eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment. The memories of the past few hours came back over him, returning to work, the time he spent with Doctor Song, the moments that went tender, and of course the disasterious ending in which Sithick felt like he had just violated the trust of someone else, only to run away when he couldn't handle their sudden emotional outburst.

What was he supposed to say to Jaya? he was bad at lying, and he couldn't exactly hide the facts, their was a chance that any second now security could burst down the door, and haul him away to the brig under charges of sexual assault. He stayed resting his yellow eyes transfixed for a moment his body shaking. What did he tell Jaya?

"I... went back to work, and... helped to save a doctor... performed a surgery... took her back to her quarters." He paused at that point in his story... he wasn't even sure what to call it at that point. The two of them had cuddled, nothing physical past the fact that she had sat on his lap. He had kissed her... he should just leave it that really, but this was Jaya. His closest friend, and also the woman who would sleep around the most. If anyone could understand his situation it would be her. He tried to pick up his drink tried to shove the straw in his mouth and take another swig to orient his thought process. His tongue felt dry yet as he opened his mouth strands of saliva seemed to cover his long teeth. His body shivered like he was going to retch. He just needed to say something.

"And almost had sex with her." Anything but that, nope eject, abort. Sithick felt his jaw clamp up, his eyes close and a long drawn out breath escape his nostrils as he raised a hand to his face brushing along his own snout. "How was your evening."

[ Deacon | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Even Angels Cry , @Kaligos , etc

As Jaya requested another glass or two of the Breshtanti Ale, Deacon considered the bottle in his hand critically, giving it an experimental swirl, mentally cursing the persistent lack of feeling that was hindering his dexterity.  He again reminded himself to have it examined in the morning if the sensation hadn't resolved by morning.  Pouring another serving, he silently confirmed his earlier suspicion that the humans would undoubtedly drink this lounge dry inside of a day if there wasn't some secret distillery hidden behind another of the bulkheads that the ship's avatar had neglected to share with him.

"One at a time," he commented, sliding the glass back to Jaya.  "The bottles are the genuine stuff and that kick won't shake with willpower and adrenaline."  At least, that was his understanding of the difference between genuine alcohol and the replicated synthehol, and new as he was to his position, he did feel some responsibility in ensuring the crew didn't get the ship blown up from drunken negligence.

As the gorn made his wish, Deacon tilted his head slightly.  An engineer?  He had to admit, this was a bit unexpected.  But then again, their first encounter had been in the midst of battle and it's hard to take the proper measure of a stranger in such circumstances.  Yes, certainly you could tell a lot about someone in how they approach battle, which is why Deacon believed the gorn was deserving of some amount of respect. 

"Well, an alligator is a large reptile native to Earth," he said, though admittedly he only knew a handful of native Earth creatures and most the result of his time studying the language on homeworld.  "As I understand it, quite fearsome in its own right.  But humans tend to..." he paused to consider his options "...abuse names.  They might give a thing another name out of familiarity, affection, disdain, or even laziness when they cannot be bothered to remember a proper name."  He took a deep breath.  "It's rather annoying, truth be told."

Placing his hands on the bar, he stared at the gorn.  "If you want them to respect you... if you want these cadets and ensigns to listen to you, then demonstrate to them your skills.  Show them what only you are capable of doing."  With a faint shrug, he turned to clean up one of the nearby tables.

LT JG Alessia Garcia, Callsign "Angel" (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/images/thumb/9/9b/Alessia-Garcia-04.png/250px-Alessia-Garcia-04.png) |  Corridor Outside the Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | Vector 3  USS Theurgy] ATTN: @Auctor Lucan, anyone else
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Alessia glanced down the corridor to her left, and then her right, but it was the whistle that caught her attention.  She flashed a smile at her budding companion and moved towards her.  Dev was also apparently happy to see her, since the woman reached for Alessia and held her hips, then guided her back against a wall.  Dev's lips brushed in close to Alessia's own and the Latina blushed.  What was happening?  Surely she hadn't thought that..

Given how Dev was acting, whispering words past her ear and bringing her lips so close that they almost touched, Alessia had to assume she'd given the Romulan the wrong impression.  Dev's hands embraced her like a lover and roamed up and down Alessia's sides with the most loving of touches.  It brought an unintentional shiver to Alessia's body as her eyes went half-lidded with the sensation.  How long had it been?  But Dev was a woman!  Yes, a beautiful woman who seemed for all the world to be interested.  Was Alessia really averse to this idea?

Then she caught wind of the words.  Play Along?  So.. this was an act?  Well, if it was, Alessia had been fooled and she was in on it.  She couldn't help her body's natural responses (the goosebumps on her skin, the flush to her cheeks, the little murmurings coming from her lips), but she could play along.  Alessia's palms lifted off the wall and timidly held her sister wolf's hips.  She was unsure how these things worked with another woman, but seemed to be rather good at it, so she emulated her Romulan friend. 

Alessia's hands slid up Dev's sides, thumbs caressing the outside of her breasts as she moved a little too high on the pilot's body.  Alessia's breath hitched as Dev's words danced over her neck.  Her hands slipped around to the small of the woman's back and she pulled Dev in a little closer.  There was a lot of sense in Dev's words though.  When the white-haired girl exposed her neck, Alessia felt the cool air come between them.  Her grin was unexpectedly sultry as she took the opportunity to trail a hand up and craddle Dev's neck.  She then tilted forward, her lips brushing Dev's neck as she responded, "I never thought of it that way.  Go on?"

Both arms now rested on Dev's shoulders as the woman grabbed her ass and pulled Alessia in close.  The pleasurable gasp was not fake, nor was the rapid speed at which Alessia's heart beat.  She was both turned on by all the closeness, and intrigued by this idea that her sister wolf put forth.  What if that was what had happened here?  A rogue A.I. operating with a skeleton crew following some extremist agenda on a holo-ship wasn't too far off from what their superiors had proposed. 

Now it was Alessia's turn to act back, and she pulled her arms tight around Dev's shoulders.  She brought her forehead to rest against her Romulan friend, and with noses touching and lips a sliver away from a kiss, she whispered back.  "So let's go down there.  I remember the way.  We can make up una mentira¹.. some lie, like we've always wanted to try doing it in the cockpit.  It should give us ample time to grab the gear, but I don't know how we'd hide it.  Neither of us is wearing much in the way of extra layers."  Still, just getting to the valravns would take time.  If they kept up this charade, they'd come up with a way to extract the tricorders before they arrived in the bay.

Alessia pushed back on Dev just enough to free herself from the wall.  She pivoted and grabbed Dev's hand, interlocking their fingers as she moved down the hall towards the turbolift.  The sensual glances that she shot the Romulan were only half pretend.  The woman had stirred something in Alessia that she'd kept dormant for years, but now that it was waking up, Alessia found it to be a welcome distraction.  A part of her hoped that Dev actually liked her.

The pair reached the turbolift after two stops to giggle and push one another up against the hallway wall in what appeared to be another blatant display of public affection.  Ideas were whispered to one another about what to do with the tricorder once it was in their possession and how to smuggle it off the valravn without arousing suspicions.  When the turbolift opened, Alessia pulled Dev inside with a laugh and enough momentum to make her own back thud against the back of the lift.  She let her hands drift to Dev's backside and grip tightly, pulling her sister wolf slose against her until her body was sandwiched between Dev and the wall.  Alessia let her head tilt to the side and called out their desired destination.

"Computer, Lower Shuttle Bay please.  Time to find out just how much room our birds have.."  She winked at Dev as the turbolift engaged.  She would be sad when this charade ended.

---

1. Mentira = a lie

[ Devyrie "Dragon" Okhala (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Devyrie_Okhala,_callsign_%27%27Dragon%27%27) | Corridor Outside the Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | Vector 3 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Even Angels Cry 
[Show/Hide]Once inside the turbolift, the public act they had put on to fool any surveillance system or rogue A.I. had begun to get to Devyrie. She didn't usually engage in casual intimacy, but Angel was a fine human woman, and Dev couldn't help how hard and puckered the points of her breasts had become underneath her black tank top when she pushed herself up against her squadmate inside the turbolift. She imagined she felt the same reaction from Angel too, and she realised that they might be making things weird between them if they didn't cool down soon...

Which, of course, was when two security officers entered the turbolift, armed and on duty, and looking like they were having quite a handful with all the new people from the Resolve and the Orcus. Dev realised that they would notice if they didn't continue what they were doing. One of them cleared his throat and smiled faintly to them, but was clearly not about to engage in small talk. The second one seemed to be all frowns and no smiles, giving them a quick, suspicious glare.... which made Devyrie realise she was looking too much at the guards and not giving Angel the kind of attention she had when the two had entered the lift.

Turning her head back to Angel, she realised she had no choice. She cupped one hand over her sister wolf's breast, the other going to her bottom, and she full-on kissed the other pilot with her eyes closed - hoping Alessia wouldn't mind the show they had to put on. If they were holograms, they were merely an extension of the A.I., and could kill them any moment if they were not convincing enough. She felt her Romulan ridges brush across Angel's smooth forehead as she slanted her lips the other way, making sure it didn't look like an act when she let her tongue seek out Alessia's. With her thigh between hers, Dev began to undulate her hips against Angel too, grinding their bodies together more firmly, hoping the two security guards - or the A.I. - wouldn't question what they were truly up to.

Admittedly, Dev lost herself a little bit in the charade, finding herself making odd, throaty noises into Angel's mouth when their motions became more passionate. She tried to tell herself it was a part of the act, but she was fairly sure she would be lying. With Alessia's thigh betwixt her own as well, she found herself moving very attentively against the other pilot... until she glanced back, and realised that the turbolift was empty.

It startled her, having thought they were right behind her since she had Angel between herself and the wall. Eyes widening, lips bruised from kissing her sister wolf, she looked at her. "Did they step off or did they just... wink out of existence?" she asked in a whisper of dread laced with desire, her breath mixing with Angel's. She never noticed when the guards left, but hoped Angel could allay her fears since she had been facing in the right direction.

[Deck 21. Lower Shuttle Bay,] announced the female voice of the A.I., and the turbolift doors opened. Never had a Federation computer's announcement sounded so ominous to Devyrie, and she supposed they would have to finish what they started...

"Let's go..." she said thickly, swallowing, being quite slow to disentangle herself from Alessia since she both wanted to know the truth and didn't dare find out she'd been right. Despite how much she'd been taught to value information, right there, in that turbolift, she wanted to remain ignorant.

[ Dr. Silim Parnak (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Silim_Parnak) | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus @DocReno  Anyone
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Silim couldn’t help but raise a smile as he was praised. He had obviously done enough to impress the Human and that was a useful first step. Grabbing the bottle from table, he poured himself another glass of Kanar. Well, pour was a liberal term. With Kanar, it was simple, you placed the bottle where you wanted it and had to wait a few moments for the viscous liquid to agree. This gave him the chance to assess the woman some more as the Andorian swept in to ensure there were no hurt feelings. She was attractive, without a doubt, but there was something else there; a small twinkle in her eye when she smiled that showed there was more. She looked like the type of girl that could give as well as she could get, and with the way she played with the stem of her glass, Silim certainly wouldn’t say no to her working on his neck ridges.

The shift in topic brought Silim back to his senses and he hastily moved his thoughts back to the here and now, rather than imaging what could do. As the Andorian spoke, Silim tried to ponder if this was a multi-level affair, would he get his feedback after completing so many assessments? However, try as he might, the words that Ch’Rayya used amused him. Starting at that classic Cardassian smirked, his level of amusement grew until Parnak couldn’t contain it any longer and a mirth filled chortle escaped aloud.

“Forgive me Lieutenant, but if I’m young, then you’re positively juvenile.” His sentiment, while true, wasn’t intended to be cruel, more of a joke at the wording the Andorian chose. Parnak was old, certainly older than those within the bar.

“Now, Lieutenant Ch’Rayya, let see…” He paused, as if to appraise the Andorian before him “Whilst Andorian, you tend to inhabit the cooler end of the usual associated ego. No pun intended. You think of yourself as intelligent, this added to your overall posture and decorum show that you like to be the one in charge wherever possible. As for the use of first names when speaking with your former commanding officer? That shows you are used to a certain level of respect, leading me to believe that you like to push boundaries and meet new people although sometimes, as the scar on your right antennae indicates, it doesn’t always go exactly the way you want.” Stoppeing, Silim chuckled. “Though I suspect if asked, you’d have some rather interesting stories.”

Silim stopped to take a sip from his Kanar. His eyes resting back once again on the Andorian before him.

“Is that enough? I’m afraid I haven’t researched Andorians enough to even attempt to hazard a guess at lineage and genealogy from a visual perspective.” He switched back across to the Human and couldn’t help but get a jovial wink. “But don’t you worry my dear, as you can see, I may old enough to know better, but I’m still young enough to still do it anyway.”

 
LT JG Alessia Garcia, Callsign "Angel" (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/images/thumb/9/9b/Alessia-Garcia-04.png/250px-Alessia-Garcia-04.png) |  Corridor Outside the Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | Vector 3  USS Theurgy] ATTN: @Auctor Lucan, anyone else
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Alessia's breath was shallow and hot on Dev's skin as the two security guards entered.  Her chocolate eyes watched them as one grinned sheepishly and the other frowned his disapproval. She caught the corner of Dev's eye as the Romulan woman turned her attention back, but she was wholly unprepared for what followed.

Dev grabbed her, groped her in a way that no one had in years. "Ah! Mmmm.." Alessia found it hard to contain her delighted murmur, so she let it out.  They were posing as lovers after all.  But was that it? Was it only an act? Alessia opened her eyes to find Dev considerably closer than before. The woman looked riddled with lust, or maybe Alessia was transferring her own emotions onto her sister wolf.  Didnt matter.  In the next moment, their lips locked and a sweet gasp escaped Alessia's mouth.

Dear God! Why had she neglected this part of herself for so long?  The kiss was all fever and passion, and Alessia was eager to return it.  She opened her mouth first, without provocation from Dev, hoping for a taste of the girl. And then she had it.  Alessia's hands gripped Dev's firm ass and pulled Dev closer against her own body.  Her legs naturally fell in between Dev's, and her upper leg found a warm home to rub against.  But so had Dev's.  Alessia closed her eyes and let herself be captured by the emotions, the grinding, the taste of it all.  Never had she wanted a woman as badly as she wanted Dev right now.  Her sister wolf had broken the dam she'd built around her passion and now the cascading emotions engulfed her.

Alessia moaned with delight, her tongue seeking out Dev's and relishing the flavor. She lost herself in the sensations, the sounds, the taste, and didn't pull away until Dev spoke.  Alessia's heart raced. Her breath came way to fast and her eyes were heavy with desire. She smirked a seductive grin at Dev until the stillness in the turbolift registered in her brain. It was too quiet.  She pulled her eyes from the Romulan and looked to where the security guards had stood.  Their post was vacant.  She stared back at her sister wolf as the question was asked, but Alessia didn't know.

"I.. I don't know.  I didn't see." She could have kicked herself.  Instead of keeping an eye out, she had submitted to the heat of the moment.  But she didn't remember hearing a deck announcement or the doors open.  Then again, Dev hadn't noticed either.  Maybe this was a little more sudden than either of them expected? Alessia's gaze locked with Dev's as the computer announced their arrival.  She didn't want to disengage. She wanted to stay entangled in this woman's embrace. But they had to leave.

Still, it needed to be convincing. So Alessia grinned and stole another long kiss as she let go of Dev and pushed herself off the wall.  "Come on. It's just a little further" She walked backward out of the lift, taking Dev's hands and leading her sister toward the valravns parked in the bay.  Just a little further and they had reached Dev's fighter.   Alessia reached for the ladder and climbed up, then unlatched the cockpit. She pulled herself inside and left enough room for Dev to follow.

[ Devyrie "Dragon" Okhala (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Devyrie_Okhala,_callsign_%27%27Dragon%27%27) | Turbolift > Lower Shuttle Bay | Deck 28 > Deck 21 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Even Angels Cry 
[Show/Hide]With her heart beating loudly in her ears, the only way her stress over the situation was alleviated was by how Angel pulled her in for another, deep, lingering kiss in the turbolift before they headed towards the shuttle bay. In fact, the pretence of their roles as lovers was the only thing that kept Dev from running towards her Valravn fighter and get the tricorder, fearing that she was right and that they had not only ended up in the middle of the Azure Nebula, but on a starship where the computer had gone rogue and killed every organic being aboard. To have Alessia distract her from her immediate fears was quite welcome, and especially since her wolf sister was really easy on her green eyes, the fact that she was not a man quite irrelevant.

Keeping up the charade as they made it through the shuttle bay, Dev had her arm around Angel's waist and stole kisses on her neck now and then, hand straying from her hip to her bum, and as if it was some kind of miracle, they were never stopped on the way there. Many of the shuttles were out, initial repairs of the Theurgy already having begun, but among the Valravn fighters that had landed on the lowest level of the bay area, they were virtually alone. They saw plenty of shuttle bay workers on the higher levels, though.. Perhaps it was because none of the Ops personnel knew what to do with the fighters, but whatever the reason, it allowed them to reach Dev's fighter without question.

Angel popped the canopy for Devyrie and climbed up ahead of her, and Dev was momentarily distracted by the sight of her wolf sister as she climbed up ahead of her, and with her Romulan genes, the female scent of her was overwhelming. Devyrie shook her head, realising that Alessia was just as wound up as she felt, and tried to focus on what they needed to do instead. Angel was quite a distraction in a way she had not considered before, not even when they had shared locker rooms on Luna Base and on the Orcus.

Once over the edge of the cockpit, they were both in the cramped pilot seat, which was actually spacious enough when neither of them wore exosuits. "Let me just..." Devyrie reached past Angel, their faces almost brushing together, and she picked up the tricorder she kept in a storage compartment next to the seat. Once she had it in her hand, she gently sat down in Angel's lap (since it was most comfortable for them both), and draped one arm behind her sister's neck and flipped the tricorder open, beginning to scan the surroundings outside the fighter. Dreading the results, she raised the tricorder to the upper levels of the shuttle bay, scanning the Ops officers as they moved about...

...and to her relief, at least the people working there on the Theurgy were organic, and not just holograms. A sense of ease coming over her, she widened the scanning area, and could see life signs beyond the bulkheads as well. Satisfied, she took a deep breath, and pressed the button to close the canopy around them - giving them some privacy.

"They are real..." she said, a small smile coming to her face as she looked at Angel. "...and if they are, I suppose there is no immediate need to question the veracity of Ives's story. At least not up front, without due cause. And if the parasitic threat is true... perhaps Captain Slayton was one of them."

Saying this, her thoughts did not linger on the Commanding Officer of the Orcus for long, for she realised that what she and Alessia had just done on the way to her fighter... it could not be undone. But did she even want to? Devyrie felt no regrets when she looked at Angel... instead, wondering... as she leaned in towards her with her lips pursed... if there was ought more to be said... or done... before they left the cockpit of her fighter.

[Lieutenant Keval ch'Rayya | Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attention: @Brutus  , @Even Angels Cry  , @Arista

Keval listened to Silim's observations of him which made him smile just a little bit. "I'm glad that you didn't find my comment an insult, my good sir, because the reference to age wasn't one in the slightest."

He then took a sip of his drink before going over some of the things that Silim had said to which he bowed his head slightly. "I believe that I'm intelligent because I have worked hard for my education if and I've spent the last few years basically being the number three man on a starship on a forced exodus, so you'll pardon me if certain..mannerisms for the lack of a better term haven't left me yet but I don't think of myself in charge, Silim, as I would much rather not sit in that center seat again for quite a while."

"As for using my late commanding officer's first name with such a commonality it's because there wasn't just a level of respect but also one of family as I have put quite a amount of distance between myself and my keth..unlike the common Andorian view, I don't care much for having my whole family life preset before me like I'm a princess in the old human fairy tales." He went onto explain as he closed his right hand into a fist and brought it over his heart. "My Zhavey, my grandmother for the lack of a better term, once told me that you have your family by blood and then you have your family by life..friends that you've fought with and for to the point that you are willing to risk your own life for just as if they are your own family which is what Tristain, Leon, Jimmy, Krystal, and a few others from the Resolve have become to me."

He then unfolded his fist and gently reached up to run a finger over the old scar. "As for this, I got a little bit too close in a battle with an enemy force when I was a junior officer. It aches from time to time but it's more akin to a phantom pain then actual pain." he commented before his face broke into a slight smile. "But I do like meeting new people, Silim, despite my history as both a tactical, intelligence, and sometimes acting security officer..I am a people person amusingly enough."

He then took another sip of his drink before his smile became a bit more wry as he added with "And the stories I could tell you just might raise an eyebrow or two..but that's for another time, Silim, and might I add that before the end, Tristain counted you among us of the Resolve by extension.."

He then picked up his glass and offered it up in a salute to the Cardassian. "So you'll pardon me if I keep an eye out to make sure that you're okay from time to time...kid?" he said in a respectable tone, giving a joking wink to Silim at the end.

Jaya Thorne (https://orig05.deviantart.net/12e0/f/2016/300/a/4/imgpsh_fullsize_by_auctor_lucan-damefg0.png) |  Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attn @Kaligos , @DocReno , @steelphoenix , anyone else
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Jaya choked on her drink.  He did WHAT?!  Her jaw went slack as she stared at Sithick.  Never in her wildest dreams had she ever imagined such a thing, and she was known to have WILD dreams.  Some part of her was bitter over the news; resentful that he had beaten her at her own game.  But Sithick wasn't like her.  Not many were actually like her.  Sure, most men liked the idea of a one night stand, or a fling, but when it actually came to pass, it was inevitable messy.  Either they caught 'the feels' or 'the pimp attitude', and both were unacceptable.  It didn't stop her from doing her thing, but it did make for a ship and a station full of broken hearts and bitter men.

But Sithick, for all his scariness, had always been so damn genuine.  It irked her. 

Something about the way he spoke bothered her though.  He had paused, which meant his words were carefully chosen.  He wasn't gleeful, but morose and solemn.  His wisecracks were.. ok, she could never make sense of his jokes anyway so that was a bad indicator of something being wrong.  But there was something.  Unfortunately, Sithick didn't seem eager to discuss it.  Jaya frowned, but answered his question. 

"My evening?  Well clearly not as eventful as yours.  I returned to my quarters when you went to work and after a brief nap."  She winked at Sithick. 

The bartender reappeared with her refill request only half complete and chided her for asking for a double.  Jaya made her stance on the subject known by giving him a bored, half-lidded stare.  Of course the bottled stuff was more potent.  That was the point.  His words toward Sithick were of a different tone, however, and she wondered if maybe he actually liked her Gorn friend.  They did have some notable similarities, after all.  And his advice wasn't half bad, except that she didn't know of anyone who took Sithick seriously.  He was intimidating and most of the crew agreed that he ought to have been in security.  But apparently engineering was his passion.

Jaya knew all about passions.  She had her own and she'd be damned if someone tried to take them away from her.  She lived for those moments of freedom.  A thought lodged itself in her brain.  Maybe Sithick lives for those moments too.  She blinked.  You know, maybe he did.  He was a good engineer and he could handle temperatures and substances that humans couldn't.  He was useful in engineering, and if that was his passion, then Jaya wanted to see him accomplish it.

The bartender brought Jaya another drink which she eagerly sipped.  Jaya glanced around the room for a timepiece of any kind.  Her eyes landed on a large stylized wall clock which she stared at for several moments. 

There's no way it was that late!  Oh god, she needed to get a move on!  If the notes she'd found on his routine were correct, he'd be sleeping soon.  She'd rather him be awake for the kind of thank you she was planning to give him.  Jaya angled her body towards Sithick as she lifted her glass.  It was time to toast herself a goodbye. "To us.  I'm proud of you for putting yourself out there and meeting someone.  I'm sure she'll come around, and if she doesn't, there's plenty of fish out there.  You'll find one.  And thanks for everything earlier.  I don't think I would have made it to Sickbay without you."  She clinked her glass against his and flashed him a grin.  "Wish me luck!"

Jaya stood, brushed herself off, and walked to the replicator.  She requested a specific bottle, specific year, specific brand and tucked it under her arm.  She waved a farewell to Sithick as she left the lounge.

 
LT JG Alessia Garcia, Callsign "Angel" (http://uss-theurgy.com/w/images/thumb/9/9b/Alessia-Garcia-04.png/250px-Alessia-Garcia-04.png) |  Lower Shuttle Bay | Deck 21 | Vector 3  USS Theurgy] ATTN: @Auctor Lucan, anyone else
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The caresses and little touches combined with the giddy laughter and stolen kisses of a newfound couple had taken their toll on Alessia.  This was supposed to be a charade, but at some point it had taken on a life of it's own.  Sitting in the cockpit of Dev's fighter with the Romulan in her lap, Angel wondered why she had never noticed how pretty the girl was before.  Her Romulan features were startlingly beautiful.  The way her hair framed her face was stunning.  Even her green eyes were suddenly shocking and lovely at the same time. 

Alessia must have breathed a sigh of relief when Dev relayed the tricorder scan results.  She felt like a burden had been lifted, but a new realization struck her.  This.. whatever this was with Dev.. what did they do now?  There had been a purpose to their shenanigans.  A mission.  Now that the mission was over, Alessia wondered if it had all been for show.  It hadn't been for her, but what about Dev?  Whether the woman knew it or not, she'd awoken long dormant feelings within the Spanish pilot.  It had been years since she'd even kissed another person the way she'd kissed Dev today.  That wouldn't be easily forgotten. 

The cockpit became stuffy as Alessia brought her eyes level with Devyrie's.  Had this woman been just as affected?  Alessia leaned in just a little.  Her hand tentatively slid up Dev's shin to her knee.  Her other palm rested a bit more noticeably on Dev's side as her fingers tested the waters by lightly caressing her pilot friend's side.  Devyrie seemed to shit herself closer as well.  There was a moment, a hesitation.  A split-second of not wanting to leave, not wanting this to end.  Alessia couldn't think about it anymore!  In another second, the window would be gone she'd regret not taking that chance.

Alessia pressed her lips to Dev's and pulled the woman against her own body.  Breasts squished against breasts as the kiss deepened and Alessia heard her voice whimper softly in the recycled air of the cockpit.  Her arms wrapped around Dev's body as her hands explored further: up to hold a breast and down a thigh, then around to cup her rump.  Oh the taste of her sister wolf was exquisite!  And it had been so long!  6 years since her brother died.   6 years since her life went to hell and she had to learn to get back on her feet.  6 years since her engagement was called off.  6 years since she'd been truly intimate with another.  It was time.

As Alessia pulled back for air, she rested her forehead against Devyrie's ridges.  They needed more space than this.  Her first time back in saddle in 6 years shouldn't happen in a Valravn cockpit.  "..maybe we should go to a room?  Mine or yours, doesn't matter, but we'd have more space and.. more privacy."  She held Dev's gaze and waited for a response as the passion and promise of their evening shown through her eyes.

[ Devyrie "Dragon" Okhala (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Devyrie_Okhala,_callsign_%27%27Dragon%27%27) | Lower Shuttle Bay | Deck 21 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Even Angels Cry 
[Show/Hide]The charade might have ended, but there was no end to what they had begun, at least not yet.

Devyrie leaned fully into the kiss, the feeling of Angel's body against her own something she didn't know she had been wanting for. True, she had heard that intimacy after a battle was the best kind, making one feel alive, and celebrating the fact. Was this what this was? Her fears and adrenaline abating, after having betrayed Starfleet and her Commanding Officer, regardless what kind of aehf he had been when he pulled them out of Luna Base and the Valravn Program? Regardless what it was that drove her, she had started something with her sister wolf that she dearly wanted to follow through with, regardless the reasons. Right then, she felt far more analytical than she wanted to be, and she blamed her father for it. Always keeping her on her toes. Questioning everything. Right then, she wanted to take her human mother's advice. Relax, Dev. You can just play if you want to.

With this in mind, she arched her back into Angel's hand when she caressed her, and she slid her own hand up Angel's top. She didn't reach far, but she wanted to feel Alessia's skin, to appreciate how warm she was. In fact, she wanted to know just how earnest she was with this attraction she showed. Did she really want to continue? It was a qualified guess, but there she was, all analytical again, and wanted to make sure. She was just about to push her fingers down behind Angel's waistline... and truly make sure this was not just a misunderstanding.

But her sister wolf spoke, and Devyrie opened her green eyes, parting her lips from the human a bit to hear her. She wanted to leave, to relocate. Why? Too public? Perhaps. She looked up, and saw deck hands leaning over the railing on the upper levels and looking down on them. The canopy was not entirely clear, but enough to reveal what they were doing. They looked truly... entertained. Yes, definitely too public.

"Yes," she breathed, and looked back to Angel, clearing her throat a little. She felt like she was on fire, and Angel's hands and mouth were the fire suppression system. "Let's go."

And let's hurry...

- FIN, TO BE CONTINUED

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Below Decks | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy 01 ]Atten:
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With mutual assurances of 'no offense intended or taken' from all three parties, Natalie found herself relaxing further, seated between the two gentlemen, listening to them banter back and forth. She realized that both of them were considerably older than her, and it made her feel self conscious about her rank again in a way she had not felt since she'd first been promoted, after Chief Hendricks' untimely demise. She was well aware that most people did not get the rank of Lt. Cmdr. before they had turned 30.

In a moment of stark - no pun intended - realization, she had to amend her train of thought. Most people did not advance that high before the Dominion War. Even years after it ended, Stafleet's ranks were full of officers well below the previously established recommended age and service tenure notations. Hers wasn't the only jacket that had more pips than one would expect.

Then again, Kirk was a Captain by 30, over a century ago. And Jean-Luc Picard was only a year older than I was, when he took command of the legendary Stargazer, half a century ago. She shook her head, pulled from her ruminations by something one of the men said. The alcohol was playing havoc with her ability to focus.

"Again, I have to say sitting here on the side lines I find both of your talents quite impressive."

 [ Dr. Silim Parnak (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Silim_Parnak) | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus @DocReno 
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It seemed that Parnak had finally played the game long enough to warrant feedback. Either that, or they have finally reached a subject in which the Andorian could suitably mark against – himself. Listening to the reply, Parnak kept a small smile on his lips. There were elements that Parnak had gotten wrong, and some he still felt he had hit entirely on the head. Even if the Lieutenant didn’t want to admit it.

One thing that did concern him was the fact that apparently Parnak had spent enough time with the Andorian to give justification to a first name basis. After all the time he had spent in the Federation, Silim forgot about how quickly other species adopted informality. There were many customs and social cues that he still needed to learn, or at least remember on a regular basis. As Lieutenant Ch’Rayya declared Parnak a member of a now derelict, if not destroyed, vessel, he couldn’t help but grin wider.

“Kendrick was certainly something wasn’t he?” What he was exactly, Parnak chose not to elaborate on. He was distracted instead by hearing the comment from the human at the table, turning, Parnak extended a hand to take hers in his.

“Now now, my dear. There is no corner of any room across this quadrant where you could ever be described as on the sideline.” It was cheesy, Parnak knew that, but he hoped it would work. After all, if terrible lines didn’t work in a bar, where would they work? Summoning his inner thespian, he continued. “Be that as it may, forgive me and my cobalt companion. It appears we got swept up in our games and neglected your company.”

Glancing down towards his glass, he found it empty, along with most of the bar. It appeared they were on the cusp of outstaying their welcome, and as interesting as a barkeep as this ship had. He didn’t want to find himself on the wrong side of those claws. Instead, he used the opportunity to formulate a plan.

“Let me make it up to you by walking you back to your quarters. As much as I’d enjoy hearing Andorian stories of old and even singing songs of my own success, it is getting late and I couldn’t bear to think of you being unescorted.”

[Lieutenant Keval ch'Rayya | Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attention: @Brutus @Arista @Even Angels Cry

Keval listened to the Cardassian's comments and nodded respectfully, "Kendrick was one hell of a unique person, one of the very few people that I could actually call one of my best friends to be honest." he explained with a wistful smile on his face.

The smile then shifted as he looked at Natalie as she talked, his left hand cover her non-injured one as he smiled at her as he was feeling rather good, slightly loose but definitely good at the moment and when he placed his hand over her's, he could feel the heat rising off of her skin and it made him smile a bit more warmly. "We all have talents that are rather impressive, Natalie, please don't mind me showing off a little bit on your behalf." he said in  a warm tone. "I'm sure that you have a talent that could blow me out of the water to be quite frank."

When Parnak started to speak again, he nodded in agreement that they indeed had let the little game that they had been playing that originally had been just Keval and Natalie which then added Parnak distract him from what really was going on.

Keval tilted his head to the right a little bit while his antenna tilted a little bit more to the left as he took in Parnak's latest words and he even chuckled at the other man telling stories of old Andorian stories or singing songs about Parnak's past accomplishments, but at that point Keval simply shook his head and said "I'm afraid that some of my best stories I couldn't tell because they are classified and as much as I respect your gumption, Parnak, I'm afraid that I doubt your ability to sing would come close to my late friend Doctor Querl T'Naga and his complete arias about science...which might in truth put our dear Natalie here to sleep.." he continued, turning to face the human.

A ray of light from the nebula outside fluxed at the right moment and cast Natalie in what could only be considered a perfect light as it made her shoulder length dark brown hair into that of a light mocha brown and her dark eyes seem to glitter, showing off her inner beauty and intelligence as well as framing her naturally wonderful curves.

Keval swallowed lightly against a dry throat as he turned in his chair just enough to move his left hand to the left side of her face to tilt it to face his fully before he leaned in and kissed her fully on those lovely rose pink lips, letting his appreciation of her beauty and intelligence flow through him and into the kiss.

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Below Decks | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy 01 ]Atten: @Arista @DocReno 
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Her drink was perilously close to being empty - which would mean that it was near enough time for Natalie to excuse herself. She wouldn't let the last of the wine go to waste. No, she told herself, not realizing how hazy things around her had become. Not going to waste this. She carefully brought the glass of wine up to her lips and tipped it back, trying to be delicate about it as she sipped it down. Her throat contracted, the wine hitting the back of her tongue, and then slid on away, until the glass was empty. T'was then that Parnak turned and took the hand that had just deposited the now empty glass into his own.

Yet again, she was aware of the difference in body temperature, and texture, between a Cardassian's hand and a humans. Fascinating she thought in an almost detached fashion. She settled back into her chair and smiled up at the civilian, feeling more than a little flush. You know, maybe drinking the whole bottle of wine wasn't your smartest move Nat. She shrugged the thought off and allowed herself to indulge in enjoying the attention. The last man that had paid her that kind of attention or compliments - well, best not to thank of Rory. She didn't want to think of him, in this bar. Nope, not tonight. Not ever again, the poor, poor man. It hurt too much.

Regardless, Natalie allowed first Parnak, and then Keval, joining in, to reassure and - yes, clearly - flatter her. It was nice, the attention, if unexpected. After making such a fool of herself earlier in the evening, it was reassuring that she was not a complete loss. "You're both terrible sweeter than you need to be," she told them, impressed at the lack of slurring when it came to her words. She was worried that standing up soon would betray her inebriated state. "You needn't worry about my feeling neglected. Honestly, its been a delight to watch the two of you flex your intellectual muscles." She said that as much to Silim as to Keval, turning her gaze from one to the other as she spoke.

Eventually, both hands were in the embrace of the aliens. True, she was embarrassed over the small cut on her injured hand, in Silim's grasp, but all the same, she ignored it, and allowed herself to marvel in the varying differences between both alien men. She felt moderately ashamed at her initial statement upon seeing the Cardassian Scientist. She felt she owed the man an apology, not that she had actually said or done anything wrong. Perhaps a follow up meal at a later date. Yes, yes that would seem to be the best idea. Most certainly. I wonder what Cardassian's eat for breakfast? Do they even eat breakfast? and what about Andorians? her mind began to wander, the equivalent of mental babbling. I'm sure I saw Lt. zh'Whan eating breakfast once...or was it lunch?.

She focused back in as they talked about stories they could - or in Kevals case couldn't - tell. Bubbly as she was, the brunette let out a giggle, and then a yawn, subconsciously picking up on the word 'sleep.' Face a bit flushed, she shook her head to side from side, "I'm certain that wouldn't be the case, Lieutenant. I doubt you or the Doctor could ever be accused of being dull." There was a pause, and then, "But i suppose I can't really say for sure about this T'naga." She shrugged, both hands occupied now and feeling a bit odd, as if pulled in multiple directions.

And tired. The wine was hitting her hard, making her feel warm, safe, but sleepy. And it seemed that Dr. Parnak was giving her an out! Archaically charming perhaps - as if she needed an escort! Charming all the same, however. But before Natalie could reply to the generous offer from the astute scientist, she felt slim fingers touching her cheek. She was proud that she didn't yelp, but her confusion passed across her face as her head was turned.

"Did i miss somethi--!" her words had been slow to begin with and were utterly cut off by the press of lips, foreign but not unpleasant, on hers. Of course, she might have been more welcome to the kiss had she realized it was about to happen. There may have been more response to the practiced gesture than a squeak of surprise. And embarrassingly high pitched (if muffled) squeak. If the Ops Chief had been red before, she was a practical stand in for a tomato now.

He knows how to kiss she thought to herself in surprise. She felt her hand tighten more in Silim's grasp, as she struggled to process. And failed. Spectacularly. Her mind just would not connect what was going on with her. The kiss did end, and she sagged back in her chair, brain still slightly shorted out. "Oh my. Um...dear me...the time....look at the time. Um...wow..." She stammered. Time to leave time to leeeeeave her brain suggested, but her legs were having a bit of trouble complying and funny thing, her hands were still being held onto by two striking men.

 [ Dr. Silim Parnak (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Silim_Parnak) | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus @DocReno 
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It was hard not to get riled at the situation unfurling itself. Either this was another of the Andorian’s tests or he was just lousy at picking his time to strike. Attempting to prey on an obviously intoxicated girl was bad form, expected of those frequenting the poor man’s taverns. Of all the things Silim had seen in his time in the Federation, alongside the stories he had heard during the time of Federation ‘help’ during the rebuilding of Cardassia, he guessed it wasn’t to be surprised that some people did not always have altruistic motives to heart but that didn’t mean he had to like it. If Parnak was such a creature with erectile hairs along his neck, he certainly would have his hackles raised. In the end though, all he knew was he wasn’t going to allow himself to get sidelined in such an event.

“Let’s get you home, my dear, and leave our friend to reflect on his actions.” He said, as piously as he could muster, attempting to scoop Stark’s hand away from the Lieutenant. Turning to stare down the red shirted officer, he couldn’t help but throw a jibe of his own. “We certainly wouldn’t want some of us to fall towards our more basic urges now, do we?”

[Lieutenant Keval ch'Rayya | Below Decks Lounge | USS Theurgy ] Attention: @Brutus @Arista

When the kiss ended and Natalie's words hit his ears at the same time as the realization of what he had just done made him not only  let go of her hand but also moved away from Natalie with a look of honest surprise on his face which is also reflected by the movements of his antenna.

"I'm sorry about that, Natalie." he said in an honest yet nervous tone. "I promise that I wasn't trying to take advantage or anything, I was just swept up in a moment.."

But before he could finish, he felt an unfamiliar ice cold flash of rage cut through him at Parnak's words which made his head snap to look at the cardassian and fix him with a hard look. "I'm not that kind of *man*." he stated firmly with a look of actual remorse in his eyes as he had honestly gotten wrapped up in the moment rather then any planned action even though he did find the human woman attractive.

He then turned to look at Natalie again, "I'm sorry if I've offended you."

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Below Decks | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy 01 ]Atten: @Arista @DocReno 
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Natalie was flustered, sloshed, and maintaining a death grip on poor Dr. Parnak's hand. Which wasn't very fair to the Cardassian but at the moment the Operations Chief needed some stability, some grounding. Her head was swimming with alcohol and now her lips were swollen from the kiss. Her cheeks were a dark, dark red on her porcelain pale skin. It was a really good kiss.... No one had kissed her since Rory. Which seemed like a lifetime ago, a brief, but intense moment, that could have been something much more. If he hadn't died for me

The room blurred for a moment, and Natalie shook her head to clear herself. She allowed Silim to draw her to her feet, and sucked in a breath through her nose. She'd made such a fool of herself tonight, and she just kept screwing up. She would at least walk out of the room without falling over, she decided. She refused to allow herself to fail to that extent. IF that meant relying on Silim Parnak to keep her upright, she'd do so.

But there was still Lt. Keval ch'Reyya - the fascinating Tactical officer that had perhaps just taken one liberty too many for the night. he looked up at her with sorrow in his eyes. Or at least she thought it was sorrow. Maybe it was lust and she was simply too addled by the affects of real alcohol, that couldn't be shaken off like the synthahol she was used to. If that were the case....and even if it wasn't, but because it might be, she reasoned, she should not allow things to go further.

"Its fine," she told him. She didn't slur her words. That was something. A lucky break, she decided."I think....I think I may have indulged a bit too much. And that I really, really, really shouldn't be indulging in anything else right now. Including getting caught up in the moment." The man had a drink or two. She had had....more. Silim Parnak seemed to be in possession of his facilities. It was hard to say if Lt. ch'Reyya was, and doubly so for herself. Leaving was good. Leaving was rational. No harm, no found, she decided, without realizing that she was going around in mental circles. "its fine."

Swallowing, she turned her gaze to the Cardassian. Didn't jump. that was good. "I don't think he meant to offend," Natalie murmured, as if that explained everything. "Home is a good idea.'

[ Dr. Silim Parnak (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Silim_Parnak) | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus @DocReno 
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There was a small part of Parnak that felt sorry for the man. He had obviously gotten wrapped up in the situation and made a fool out of himself – especially as alcohol had been involved. It was easy to understand what had happened and empathize, but Silim wasn’t there to make the Andorian feel better about himself. He had an agenda to accomplish, one he thought he might not have been able to complete and now was so very close.

The girl had made it to her feet. That was good, that meant she was willing to let him take her back. He didn’t want to leave her to wobble her own way home because, after all, Silim Parnak was a gentleman and a scholar. Keeping one hand in hers, he brought the other to gently rest on her shoulder. As he started them on their first steps, Silim to a side look over his shoulder to the Andorian and gave a small but obviously predatory grin.

“Goodnight Lieutenant.” He wanted to say more but decided against it. Andorians, even one such as sedate as ch’Reyya, were a proud and aggressive people. Silim had noticed the glare he had received, the fire burning behind those cold blue eyes. It was a shame, Parnak concluded. He had a number of entertaining quips to hand, but it wouldn’t do to get into a fight when a damsel needed him so.

Guiding the human to the door was an easy task and as the door clicked shut behind them, Parnak chuckled at the situation before him.

“I don’t imagine that was how you expect this evening to go?” The question was pretty hypothetical, but he prepared himself for a response. It wasn’t difficult to understand why any warm or cold blooded male would be interested, Stark was attractive and her hands were delicately soft, smooth and warm – even if she gripped a little too hard. Nothing a touch of relaxation couldn’t help. Gently he massaged a thumb into her shoulder, soft enough so not to think of give off the impression of anything untoward, but hard enough to hopefully elicit a vocal response.

The turbolift doors parted as the pair arrived towards them. The waiting car the first in two steps to get the girl home. Silim realized that he had no idea which deck or section his destination was on, but in the end, this was a Federation ship and as such, it didn’t matter. All he needed was to speak, and he did in his smooth and dulcet tones.

“Natalie Stark’s Quarters.” He ordered and the lift complied. Whisking them away.

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Below Decks | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy 01 ]Atten: @Arista 
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A guilty feeling bubbled about in the pit of Natalie's stomach. Silim Parnak was being the definition of a gentleman, and Natalie was being a damned lush. She didn't fall, at any point on the way  to the turbolift. But there was no way, she reasoned, that she should be enjoying that relaxing caress between her shoulder blades. Because she was enjoying it, and it was relaxing. Very much so. She felt herself slump forward ever so slightly at the touch, and had to suck in a slow breath through her nose to steady herself. Or as steadied as she could manage.

I don't deserve it she thought to herself, not bitterly, but more, fatalistic. Not for how she'd left Lt. ch'Reyaa worried - though perhaps he should have been - and not for how she'd been behaving all evening, from the very moment she'd walked into Below Decks, so very far from the bridge - and her quarters.

Realizing that Dr. Parnak had said something and she had not answered, Natalie screwed up her face and replayed the conversation in her mind. Slowly. Enlightenment blossomed on her face as she shook her head from side to side. "Noooope," she agreed, straightening up. Or at least she thought she did, as she adjusted the front of her skirt and tugged her jacket back into place (it wasn't out of place to begin with). Then she swept her hair back from her reddened face, as the turbolift made its way to the senior officers quarter block where Natalie was bunking. "This is not at all how I thought the night would go. In fact, this is not at all how I thought the day would go either. To be fair," She frowned, forgetting what she was going to say. then recalling it.

"Ah yes. Too be fair, I thought i'd be dead. So that is a good thing. Not being dead, you understand," she told Silim, wagging a finger at him. "Making a fool of myself in front of two dis..dis...distinguished gentlemen was not on the schedule. Having our ex first officer turn traitor to us and butcher the message we were going to broadcast was also not in the plan. Not at all. Nope. Now we look even more like the traitors we've been accused of being." She sullenly pouted.

[ Dr. Silim Parnak (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Silim_Parnak) | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus 
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“I have found that not being dead tends be a positive.” Silim replied, amused at the girl. He managed to avoid the waggling of the finger. “I can’t say much to the rest of it though. I’ve met traitors and you don’t look like one.”

Silim smiled down to the girl watching him with wide doe eyes. There was a good foot of difference between the two but, all in all, he didn’t mind. It did make it difficult to try to subtly smell her hair. Ever since she had flung her hair back in a sweeping motion, he had been curious about those dark curls. Would they be as soft as they looked? What Shampoo did she use? Was it earthy like a Cardassian’s or more of that putrid, over the top, flowery smell? He fought the urge to just bend and take a lock between his fingers. All in time. Instead he distracted himself with small talk as the turbolift whirred them gently to their destination.

“So, what do you do for entertainment my dear?” Silim couldn’t help but tease a little, a wicked grin over his lips. “Besides occasionally imbibing too much?”

Before the human would reply, the doors parted. They had arrived. Instead of continuing with the gentle massaging, Silim brought his hand down, sliding through the nook of her elbow, taking her arm in his. It was, after all, a much more cultured way to walk.

[ Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Below Decks | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy 01 ]Atten: @Arista 
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A tremble ran across the lip that had been so perfectly pouted, as Natalie processed the rather kind words about death and treachery that Dr. Parnak imparted upon the alcohol addled Operations Chief. At that precise moment, she very much felt her age - her relative youth. It burned her with shame. Something she would have to over come, and fast. An officer and a Lady did not burst into tears in a turbolift. Even if said lady was wobbly, and having a hard time focusing on anything. The kindness mattered though. It helped. Who would have thought it would come from a member of a species that had been at war with the Federation not so terribly long ago? Never judge a book by its covers, nor a Cardassian by his scales, she thought, trying not to giggle.

For what it would be worth, should Silim get his fingers into Natalie's tresses, he'd find that while her hair did not smell of soil or dirt, nor sandalwood or lavender.  She'd taken to a specific formula that she'd found on Earth, that was - to her nose - reminiscent of the smells of the air wafting over the bay in San Francisco. Cool, crisp, a hint of salt. Not at all flowery.

T'wast neither here nor there, but as the Cardassian tucked Natalie's arm into his, he might have had the opportunity to catch a whiff. After all, she as leaning heavily on the Doctors arm, trying not to stumble as she shuffled along, skirts swaying with each shambling step. Her head tilted back a bit and to the side, catching the mans eyes and scrunching her face up. It wasn't a long walk by any means, to her quarters, but she filled it with a bit of babble.

"Drawing," she admitted easily enough. "I like to draw. Technical stuff mostly." She slurred a bit of the last word there, but sucked in a deep breath, working to steady herself. "Diagrams and designs; work flows for power grids, refining the efficiency of the plasma flow and that kind of thing." Natalie sounded quite pleased with herself. "And then there's the - oh wait -" she waved her hands about for a moment, bringing them to a stop. "Its this one.

"Anyways, there are the novels," she said as she walked right into the doors. Thankfully, they whisked open, Thea's internal sensors recognizing the owner of the suite and allowing her to enter without smashing her face into the doors. "My humble aboad. No wait, abode. It's an abode." She nodded, spinning and walking backwards, arms out wide - nearly tripping over a spare boot.

[ Dr. Silim Parnak (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Silim_Parnak) | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus 
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It was thoroughly pleasant walking with this human, even she did occasionally falter. Silim listened with close intent as she described how she described her art. It was something he was envious of. Although he had the eidetic memory associated with a good Cardassian education, he could not translate what he remembered perfectly onto paper. He knew it needed continual practice, but there were only so many wonky legged riding hounds that a child could draw before he would hang up his easel. 

And then there were the novels. Novels, he smiled, what brilliance. So young and yet so talented. The ability to draw, write and do whatever it was that she did to endow her with the yellow undershirt she wore. Announcing her quarters, Parnak scanned the room quickly. The living area was larger than that he had been assigned with the Romulan. He felt a further pang of envy, he knew it would be very unusual for Stark to have a roommate. Even if she did, he doubted they would be as irritating.

When the human pulled away, he let her go. Watching as she spun and began walking backwards, directly into a careless discarded shoe. As she toppled, he stepped forward like a flash - taking her by the wrist in one hand and pulling her in. His other hand wrapped around the waist. They were close now, almost touching in an embrace rather than a way to stop her falling. In such proximity, he couldn’t help but revel. His nostrils filled with the sharp, slightly salty, aroma. This girl wasn’t all she appeared to be, he concluded. How surprising. 

“My, my, what do we have here?” He asked, staring deep into the girl’s blue pools. The pause and silence almost palpable. Time seemed to drag on, until with a sharp movement, he broke the spell.

Twisting to the side, he brought up the hand he held by the wrist, looking over the palm. “You appear to have once hurt yourself. How long ago was this?”

Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Below Decks | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy 01 ]Atten: @Arista 
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The scene was textbook. Or perhaps, 'romance book' would have been a better description, because that what it felt like to Natalie . One moment she'd been careening backwards, then she was supported, hair spilling back towards the floor, in the strong arms of an older man. She'd read the scene a hundred times before. The Cardasssian Doctor could have been the strange, mysterious foreign  interest come to sweep the female lead off her feet at just the right moment.

Her brown tresses kissed the floor of her quarters, some of the largest outside of the XO, Captains, and VIP berthings.And then she was swept right backup, hauled in what seemed liked an effortless fashion to her feet, to rest in the mans embrace. He had a rather wide chest, or so she thought, reality non-withstanding. She glanced up, and met the warm chocolate brown eyes, gazing back down at her.

"My, my, what do we have here?" He asked, so close she could feel the words on her lips. He was close enough...I swear, if he kisses me I shall simply faint. Just like one of those damsels in the books her mind raced. Always fainting at the drop of a dime. A handsome man leans in and they faint dead away in his arms. Starfleet officers Do. Not. Faint. Cmdr. Trent would have my pips if i did something like that. Oh, God if he does I'll -

Her erratic train of thought abruptly crashed as the doctor set her mostly to rights, turning his attention to the mess that was her hand. The angry cut, the slight bruising around the edges. The mostly dried up blood. Oh....oh damn. Her head was swimming again, from the alcohol, from the close contact, and now, from embarrassment.

"Its' nothing," she told him as she ordered her hand to pull away from his grip. Except the orders got confused somewhere along the path between her intoxicated brain and the limb in question, which sat limply and fully on display in the low light of her quarters, still in Silim's strong grasp. Swallowing, Natalie babbled out the answer to his question.

"It happened earlier this evening." The words were rushed together, and she swallowed a bit, running her tongue over the tops of her teeth, behind her closed lips.

[ Dr. Silim Parnak (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Silim_Parnak) | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus 
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“Well, that won’t do.” Silim uttered simply, a small frown adding a further crinkle to his supraorbital ridge. He’d already saved her from an, albeit accidental, lecherous Andorian, he certainly wasn’t to let this exquisite, delicate flower be tarnished.

Normally, Parnak would just direct her to the right area. Sickbay was there to help, but if she hadn’t been already, then it was unlikely that she would go tonight. Besides, he had already done so much. He had the skills. What was wrong with going that little bit further? If it helped him get what he wanted, then certainly it shouldn’t be a problem.

Still holding her around the waist, Parnak turned and lead her to the couch. It was a slow, clumsy dance without music, but he didn’t mind. She was, after all, pleasing to touch. Moving his hand to her shoulder, he applied gentle but firm pressure in a non-verbal indicator to sit.

When Stark settled into the chair, Parnak couldn’t help but smirk. Apparently, the difference between the two allowed the optimal height between her face and his crotch. On any other night that would be enough, he would remain standing and see if she took the hint. Silim had no doubt that she was very dutiful, but he had other things to accomplish. Crouching onto one knee, he took Stark’s damaged hand in his again, giving it another look over in the low light of the messy quarters.

“This.” He commented with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I can fix this. Do you have a medkit nearby?”
 

Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Below Decks | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy 01 ]Atten: @Arista 
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Embaressement flooded Natalie all over again as she tried to protest that she didn't need any help to make it across her room. It was her quarters and she was a Starfleet officer - she had to be in full possession of her facilities. Of course, she stumbled over something or another she had left on the floor (never had visitors, why bother to clean?) and ended up pressing herself around Silim Parnak's midsection, her breasts compressed nicely, forming something of a cushion for her. "Sorry," she managed to murmur as she straightened up a bit and allowed the older Cardassian man to lead her to the couch.

A few gentle touches, a bit of guidance, and she was now sitting on the edge of it, stairing, unfocused for a moment, into the far distance. Her mind was telling her off for drinking too much, while the rest of her was telling that voice to shut up cause the nice gentelman was speaking. She blinked and refocused and realized that she was stairnig directly at his crotch. Her face went scarlet as she started to imagine what might might be underneath. Would Silim's....would he be as long as Nicanders had? She hadn't really seen him, so much as felt, but still, she knew it had been big.

Would it have scales?

Thank God he'd crouched down at that point and spared Natalie any more trouble. "You don't have to you know,' she managed not to slur the words as she looked from him to her wounded hand, and bit her plump lower lip. Indecision was plain on her face, as her eyes began to dart around the room. He was being so kind..."I do have a med kit," she admitted, and gestured with her other hand to the opened alcove that led to her bedroom. Or more pointedly, to the small compartment next to the door.  He'd still see the mess that was her sleeping berth but that couldnt' be helped.

"Port side bulkhead by the arch. Emergency Medkit." She informed him, hoping that the bedroom wasn't covered in discarded clothes and underwear. But Natalie knew herself, and even drunk, she was fairly certian that her sleeping area was a war zone of lacy clutter waging battled against uniform standard blacks and grays.

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ooc: apologies for typos. Phone autocorrect isn't working with the browser at the moment

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When the girl told him that he didn’t have to, he knew. A smile was enough of a reply to let her know that was the case. Silim Parnak didn’t have to do anything. He didn’t have to be here. He could waste away his days fliting between the holodeck and various bars of this ship. That, whilst enjoyable, would be a waste of his talents.

Following the instructions, Silim stood, raising himself so that once again his crotch was face level, before twisting and heading in the right direction. The low light of the cabin was quite pleasant, though there was still a chill to the air, at least by Cardassian standards. Carefully avoiding what Parnak assumed was the partner to the boot that tripped Stark earlier, he sidestepped into her sleeping area.

Brilliant and beautiful she may be, Natalie Stark was a bit of a slob. That was, unless there had been some form of explosive decompression of her wardrobe. Carefully he evaded entangling himself in the various pieces of clothing that lay abandoned and collected the medkit before returning to the girl in a similar fashion to how he left. Kneeling down, he clicked open the box and looked over the various tools that Starfleet deemed appropriate for an emergency.

Gently, he took a hold of her injured hand, placing the back of it, onto his left palm. The warmth was glorious, and her skin was so smooth. She must take care of herself, even if she didn’t take care of her quarters. As he retrieved the dermal regenerator from the kit, he couldn’t help but imagine stark through the doors at the sleeping birth, lazing decadently in a steaming bath, hot water pouring over delicate porcelain skin. Carefully he swallowed, pushing the memory aside and turned on the device, moving it in a deliberate circular motion over her wound.

“People think that dermal regenerators are just a ‘wave and go’ tool, but there is art to this science. How you move and twist changes how it heals. Poor use can end up with scarring not matter how much you use it.” The Starfleet dermal regenerators were a different shape to the Cardassian versions he had used so often, but they still worked the same. He had closed many surgical openings onto various specimens.  The aim was if they didn’t know there was a wound, they couldn’t very well chew out a tracker, could they?

“You’ll be pleased to know, once I’m done with you, it’ll be as if nothing even happened.” He smirked, looking towards the brunette.

Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Below Decks | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy 01 ]Atten: @Arista 
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In the back of her mind, Natalie knew that Parnak was seeing the quagmire of clothing that was her bedroom, and she could feel a heat crawl up the back of her neck, underneath her dark locks of hair.  Her eyes lingered as he entered to retrieve the medkit contained within, and her alcohol addled mind refused to quiet, summoning up all kinds of inappropriate images. She knew damn well - or thought she did - that any replicated...devices were well and truly hidden. At worse he might find a bra or two, or something lacy strung over part of the desk where it shouldn't be. Really it wouldn't be that bad.

Right?

A blink of an eye and then there was Silim, kneeling in front of her again, medkit spread open at her feet. Natalie swallowed and willed the heat out of her cheeks, to little avail. Other inappropriate thoughts teased at the back of her mind - she was wearing a skirt. I would be very easy...Her legs clamped shut, as if a they were a vault door locking tight. Nat prayed he didn't pick up on the motion as he sifted through the tools in the emergency kit. As inebriated as she was, Natalie knew she'd have little luck herself in trying to mend the tear in her hand.

But cool hands took hers in his, and turned the tattered flesh of her palm face up. To her pleasant surprise, there was no judgement in his eyes. She had felt plenty earlier, at the bar, even before she did something as foolish as slicing her hand open. Or letting the suave Andorian officer from the Resolve kiss you at the same time the equally suave Cardassian scientist was trying to....to....what? She shrugged the fuzzy thought away and tried to focus on what he was saying now, talking about the proper use of a dermal regenerator.

"It tingles," she confessed. It wasn't the first time she'd felt one, of course, but it was the first time she'd been intoxi - drunk. She was drunk. Dressing it up with fancy words did not take away from the reality. She was drunk, and a stranger was kneeling at her feet fixing her hand.

"I'll know. I was very stupid, and I'll know," she whispered. "Tried to make a point. Foolishly. Still," She smiled at him as bit by bit the cut sealed up, "Thank you. You're very sweet to help someone you barely know."

[ Dr. Silim Parnak (https://uss-theurgy.com/w/index.php?title=Silim_Parnak) | Below Decks Lounge | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Brutus 
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Down on one knee, Parnak had the choice of any view. It would be easy to fall into the same trap as Keval. So easy to reach out and caress a smooth inner thigh, to feel the softness against his palm. She wouldn’t object that much if he took it higher, and if he played his cards right, a taste of whatever sweet nectar was hiding within her delicate folds. The proposition wouldn’t take excessive work. He shifted his balance in preparation of the manoeuvre when he caught himself.

Did he really want to like the Andorian? So desperate for prey that he’d take low hanging fruit? No. He was better than that. He was a scientist, a gentleman and a scholar. The majority of the bottle of Kanar from earlier was impairing his judgement more than he had realised. Best keep to the original plan and focus on the task at hand.

Watching carefully as the flesh reknitted and melded, he was only seconds of completing his treatment.

“Foolish? Most definitely.” He said commenting on her interpretations of the evening. “Still, sometimes a little drama can accentuate your point.”

His work was finished, besides a little dried blood that would wash away, it was as if she hadn’t been injured at all. He had healed the cut and bruising completely. 

“Next time though, lay off the self-mutilation.” He said with a wide smirk, bringing up the dermal regenerator, Silim used it to give her a light tap on the forehead in a hope that his advice would sink in. It didn’t take long to repack the case, and Parnak tucked it under his arm as he rose to feet. Only one thing left to do.

“Now, my dear.” Parnak said, offering out a hand to help Stark to her feet.  “Off to bed with you.”

Lt. Cmdr. Natalie Stark | Below Decks | Deck 28 | USS Theurgy 01 ]Atten:
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Never once did it cross Natalie's mind in the moment that the way she held her legs, slightly ajar, could have afforded Silim quite the view. Or the ease of access. Things were blurring, more and more by that point, settling into a heavy sort of haze. She felt warmth, all over her body, seemingly to radiate out of the palm of her hand, where the dermal regenerator stitched her flesh back together. Those deep pools of her eyes seemed to go slightly unfocused in the moment, and her mouth hung open, lips swollen slightly from that kiss before.

And then there was a rap on her head and she blinked in surprise, coming back to herself. Mostly.  She heard the remnants of the Cardassian's admonishment echoing in her head and she gave a slow nod. "No self-mutilation," Nat agreed quietly, curling her fingertips into her palm and rubbing the now tender - but whole flesh. Amazing what one could do with a bit of skill with the proper tool. Natalie could repair an ODN conduit flawlessly, but she knew if she had tried to knit her flesh, there would have remained a scar there on her palm. Silim Parnak had plied her flesh like an artist. It had probably been a waste of his talent, fixing her like that. And yet he'd taken the time, and she was grateful for it.

"I, um, Bed?" She asked, face screwed up a bit in confusion. Bed made a certain amount of sense, and she was quite tired. She gave a few nods, her hair falling more and more loose about her shoulders now, her face flushed. With what she hoped was a fluid motion (it wasn't) she rose up to her feet. The room swam around her - or maybe it was just her head that swam? Nat shut her eyes and waited for things to follow. "yes yes, we should...bed. bed is good. Sleep is good." She turned about , spun and nearly fell as she settled in on the direction of her chambers.

- FIN