[CO's Quarters]
"Sir?"
Captain Stafford stood by the sink, his bald head lathered in shaving soap. The razor was poised in his hand, and his eyes were downcast on the fogged mirror. It was a tense posture, a tired one. He'd just risen from a troubled sleep. His dreams were strange and unformed. He looked tired. And old. Except for his slow, weary breathing and the steam curling out of the water he could have been a painting or a sculpture. He was that still.
"
Sir?" said a sharp voice with a strong English accent. Stafford snapped out of whatever personal torment he was going through.
"Ensign Hughes?" He asked, seeing his yeoman at the door of the bathroom. He cinched his towel tighter around his waist.
She was a taller woman with a mouth that looked as if she'd just sucked all the juice out of a lemon in one juicy gulp. Not the friendliest sort in the best of times, right now she looked positively unwelcoming.
Its too early for this."Why are you sneaking up on me in the bath?" Stafford demanded. He was suddenly conscious of how meager his body looked. His chest and stomach were narrow and sunken, the body of a man who was used to running or skipping meals.
"I've seen it all before, captain, so unless you aren't built like other men save it," the Englishwoman said with a roll of her eyes. "You'd asked to be informed no matter what when it was 0900 hours in Germany. Well, it's 0900 hours in Germany."
"Thank you," He said. He doused his head in cold water; a shave would have to wait. "Have the enlisted personnel arrived for the monthly luncheon?"
"From every corner of Starfleet," Hughes confirmed. Her usually scornful eyes softened a little. She was truly a young woman despite her harsh tones, but more wise and serious than most people his own age. And she had a big heart for all of her attitude.
"Captain, I'm trained in this sort of thing. If you want me to talk to the parents--"
"Ensign, a cup of coffee, please. On my desk on your way out."
Hughes sighed, a gust of frustration. She gave him a long look that was part pitying, part affectionate.
"Black, captain?"
"Yes, my dear. Thank you."
He thought he heard her mutter something as she turned away, but the water was running and he couldn't be sure.
When he finished dressing, he saw that his yeoman had replicated a brown sugar scone as well. He smiled, very sadly, and took a sip of hot black coffee before opening his desk top terminal.
"=/\=Computer, connect me to Frederich and Erika Koehler, Freiburg, Germany, Earth.
"
"Erika Kohler, guten morgen!"
"Frau Koehler." Stafford said. "I...ma'am, I have something to tell you regarding your daughter. Angelika."