Moval was not impressed and for the first time since boarding the Churchill, it was noticeable. The turbolift soon came to a stop and the doors swished open to reveal a relatively quiet corridor.
"I think I can find my own way from here. Lieutenant" Moval said, stepping out. "And a word of advice. You should choose your words more carefully in the future. For I have met many Starfleet officers, I cannot say the same for some of my colleagues. I'm sure they will not be as reserved as I."
Moval quickly turned, placing his back to the Lieutenant.
"Good day, Lieutenant"
Lance had just finished deploying the appropriate specialists to the appropriate replicators, and was bent over one himself. Naturally, he would be disturbed now. He sighed as the officer approached him, straightened, turned around...
And stared straight into the face of a Romulan.
He almost audibly screamed, and then managed to get a hold of himself. His head was screaming 'get away, get away', but something told him this particular Romulan wasn't hostile. Mostly, it was the fact Krol wasn't dead yet. The fact that he was in civilian's clothes – or Krol thought they were civilian, though he didn't know if Romulans had civilians – was also a factor.
How does one react to a civilian Romulan on a Federation military ship? he wondered. Evidently, he wondered too long, because by that time the Romulan had stopped walking and started staring.
