S2 M4: Effigy

[Ian Galloway]

[Bridge]

Julia stepped onto the bridge with two PADDs and coffee in tow. Albeit a somber mission she was looking forward to solving a long held Starfleet mystery. "Good morning gentlemen." Julia said with a smile as she stepped down the ramp to the center of the bridge. Setting her coffee and PADDs near her seat she looked to Ian. "Commander, can you please go ahead and use the data we have to create a search grid of that nebula. I want to be ready for this when we arrive."

Sitting in her chair she looked to James. "Seems like a good day to solve a mystery." She added. She handed James a PADD. "Here's all of the details on the Darwin and known information regarding her loss." She added.

[Bridge]

Ian swiveled around in his chair to face the captain.

"Aye Ma'am. How much time have we got for this search? This a large nebula and the sensors will have the range of a Tiberian cave bat, so we could be at this for a good long while. The last report from the Darwin was necessarily vague and it was more than 20 years ago. If she survived, she would have had time ta drift a very long way."

[Kyle Briggs]

Turbolift

"Is everything okay, Lieutenant?"

Solluk arched a brow, and then realized the man was referring to his destination.  He hadn't considered the impression such a destination might leave, and felt a flush of embarrassment.  He tried to cover it.

"Yes, quite.  It is beneficial to regularly visit the medical professionals aboard ship.  You should not feel the need to limit your interactions with them to moments when you are in crisis.  I have found, for instance, that the counseling services are invaluable to assist in the processing of everyday emotions.  I hope you will feel free to make use of them whenever you find yourself in need."

The turbolift began its motion- vertical, and lateral.  As the topic of conversation had taken an uncomfortable turn, Solluk mentally urged the car along as though his will could hurry its progress.

Meanwhile, he continued in his 'welcome aboard' speech.  "I also hope you will feel free to come to me with any questions or concerns you may have.  Or for any advice you may need.  When I first came aboard the Tempest, I had the good fortune to serve as crewman under Ian Galloway, who proved to be a receptive and encouraging department head.  I hope to continue his best practices in the Engineering Department, fostering a sense of teamwork and even of family."

The car came to a halt and the doors opened at the turbolift station closest to the counselor's office.   "Well... this is my destination.  Welcome aboard, Mister Garlande.  I will not keep you any longer from your duties."  He placed a foot in the threshold to keep the door open, and then extended his hand to shake that of the human's. 

"I will keep that in mind." Robert replied in regards to seeing the Counselor. "And I'm sure you'll do a great job as Chief, Sir. And if there's anything I can do to help, just let me know." he offered.

The lift stopped and he shook the Lieutenants offered hand as he exited. The doors closed once more, leaving Robert alone for the return trip to Engineering. Blah. Blah. Blah." he muttered as he made his way back to work. "Everyone wants to talk. Actions. That's what gets results. Or gets you in jail." he added with a grin.

He knew the Lieutenant was just trying to be nice and the man hadn't done anything to Robert. Robert just wasn't a talker. He decided to contact Raph later on. Maybe he could set Robert right.

He reached Engineering and went back to completing the diagnostics he had been running.

[Solluk]

[Counselor's Office]

When Solluk stepped into the Counselor's office, he stopped in his tracks.  Had he been human, he'd probably have smacked himself or made some other grand gesture to illustrate his misstep.  Humans were so clownish in their emotional displays that they even made comedy holos which were based on simply exaggerating their already exaggerated behavior to induce laughter in the audience.

Being a Vulcan, he mostly internalized his feelings, a slight frown being the only expression to touch his features.

This was Counselor Waters.  The new Counselor.  He'd known about the new Counselor.  He'd patted himself on the back for knowing about her transfer as soon as it had occurred.  He'd reminded himself that he needed to change his scheduled appointments.  He even remembered seeing her in the Ten-Forward Lounge, and reviewing these facts in his mind.

And yet, somehow, he'd forgotten all of this and come here expecting to meet with someone else.  And she certainly wasn't expecting to meet with him.

The lapse was probably related to his anxiety of waiting for his Officer Candidacy test results, followed by the business of Briggs' departure.  Not to mention the one thing that was always grinding away at his intellectual and logical capacity:  Jada.  Most Vulcans would consider forgetting such large details to be warning signs of dementia.  Then again, most Vulcans had a secure handle on how their emotions impacted their faculties.

Here he was, judging humans to have 'clownish' emotional displays while he had an entire circus crashing through his mind.

"Counselor Waters," he said at last, "My apologies.  I had an appointment with your predecessor, and-"  He sighed.  "I forgot to reassign those appointments to you.  I will depart and schedule something for a later time.  You doubtless have other... clients... to attend to."

[Isabella Waters]

[Counselor's Office]

When Solluk stepped into the Counselor's office, he stopped in his tracks.  Had he been human, he'd probably have smacked himself or made some other grand gesture to illustrate his misstep.  Humans were so clownish in their emotional displays that they even made comedy holos which were based on simply exaggerating their already exaggerated behavior to induce laughter in the audience.

Being a Vulcan, he mostly internalized his feelings, a slight frown being the only expression to touch his features.

This was Counselor Waters.  The new Counselor.  He'd known about the new Counselor.  He'd patted himself on the back for knowing about her transfer as soon as it had occurred.  He'd reminded himself that he needed to change his scheduled appointments.  He even remembered seeing her in the Ten-Forward Lounge, and reviewing these facts in his mind.

And yet, somehow, he'd forgotten all of this and come here expecting to meet with someone else.  And she certainly wasn't expecting to meet with him.

The lapse was probably related to his anxiety of waiting for his Officer Candidacy test results, followed by the business of Briggs' departure.  Not to mention the one thing that was always grinding away at his intellectual and logical capacity:  Jada.  Most Vulcans would consider forgetting such large details to be warning signs of dementia.  Then again, most Vulcans had a secure handle on how their emotions impacted their faculties.

Here he was, judging humans to have 'clownish' emotional displays while he had an entire circus crashing through his mind.

"Counselor Waters," he said at last, "My apologies.  I had an appointment with your predecessor, and-"  He sighed.  "I forgot to reassign those appointments to you.  I will depart and schedule something for a later time.  You doubtless have other... clients... to attend to."

[Counselor's Office]

The doors opening took Isabella by surprise, her brown eyes shifted carefully from her work to the door and who it's frame permitted entry to. Her hands clasped on the desk in front of her as she listened to Solluk speak. "People normally aren't eager to talk to  a counselor, especially not a new one. I don't have a single appointment today, so I'll happily work you in if you'd like. We can worry about scheduling proper appointments after, but if I'm ever not with someone my door is always open." Her voice was as kind as the soft smile that had spread across her face. "I'm Doctor Isabella Waters, but you can call my Izzy, Bell, Bella, Doctor, or whatever you're most comfortable with." Every word the counselor spoke was thoughtfully chosen and eloquently executed.

[Solluk]

[Counselor's Office]

Solluk regarded the young Ensign Waters for a moment.  She had a pleasant face framed by long, dark hair.  She also had a pleasant, reassuring voice.  He'd often met counselors who had one of these attributes, but seldom those with both.
"Doctor," he decided finally, "thank you for consenting to see me."

After another hesitation, he took the usual seat that he claimed when he visited here.  He'd been visiting counselors for two years since joining Starfleet.  Before that, on Vulcan, he had spent some time with the less empathetic equivalent among his own people.  It was very different visiting a psychologist on a world where emotions were considered to be a mental disability.

Not that they were entirely wrong, of course.

Millenia ago, Vulcans had been a savage and barbaric people ruled by their emotions.  It was this period which had birthed many of the rituals and martial arts that were still practiced today.

Gradually, their barbaric natures began to change.  About five-thousand years ago, the practice of emotional control had begun to be practiced in earnest within certain monastic orders, and among religious peoples who sought a better path.   But this development was not swift.   It was not until about two-thousand years ago that a great philosopher arose who was able to fully capture the minds of the Vulcan people.   It was with Surak that the purging of emotions ceased to be a religious practice, and became a secular philosophy of logic.

With the rise of Surak's philosophy came a war to decide the ultimate path of the Vulcan people.  It was not logic that was in dispute, but rather whether logic could leave room for passion.  Those who won the war became the Vulcans of today, cool and calm and clear-thinking.  Those who lost became the Romulans and the Debrune, leaving the Vulcan homeworld as exiles.  They were molded by over two-thousand of years of bitterness as they charted a new destiny for themselves as part of a new Empire.

In a way, their departure had facilitated a swift evolution of the Vulcan people.  Those who lacked the facility to govern their emotions naturally sided with the exiles, removing themselves from the Vulcan gene-pool.   Those who had the gift of mastering themselves remained.  It had 'purified' the Vulcan genetic heritage as surely as a Eugenics program would have.

An emotionless commitment to logic became the new social standard.  Those who achieved it were admired.  As always, women and men sought the best possible matches in marriage, for themselves and for their children.  Families who were known to have mastered dispassionate logic were most in demand, and so they were most often the subject of arranged marriages.  The most logical and intellectually accomplished Vulcans became a social elite, while those who succumbed to emotion or who showed poor intellectual achievement were shunned.  After the departure of the Romulans, dozens of generations of Vulcans made these social selections for two millenia, further reinforcing the trait of emotional control among the Vulcan population.

In the modern day, the mind of a Vulcan and a Romulan were sufficiently far apart to have visible structural differences.  It was a kind of 'evolution' via unnatural selection.  The Vulcan brain's anterior cingulate cortex, involved with emotional regulation, was especially well-developed.  This was unfortunately the part of Solluk's brain that had been damaged during a spacecraft collision.  That injury was the reason that he was little better than a human at controlling his emotions.  Anger, fear, anxiety... they all bubbled and brewed together with every other emotional failing to warp his thinking processes on a daily basis.  Some days, he found it amazing that he could function at all.

To a Vulcan doctor, the condition was veritable madness.

To a human?  Par for the course.

Except that Solluk had not been raised in a human culture.  He did not know how best to work through his emotions.  His society had only taught him to repress his feelings.  To drive them completely out of a perfect, logical mind.

Solluk had never been in possession of a perfect mind.  But now he had to cope with a broken one.

"I'm not sure how familiar you are with my case," Solluk said.  "I had scheduled this appointment because of..."  His mouth twisted slightly, as though the words were bitter in his mouth.  "I have been suffering from unworthy sentiments and unacceptable expectations that are interfering with personal relationships."

[Julia Rellek]

[Bridge]

Ian swiveled around in his chair to face the captain.

"Aye Ma'am. How much time have we got for this search? This a large nebula and the sensors will have the range of a Tiberian cave bat, so we could be at this for a good long while. The last report from the Darwin was necessarily vague and it was more than 20 years ago. If she survived, she would have had time ta drift a very long way."

[Bridge]

"We have all of the time we need, Commander." She picked up her coffee and took a sip. "Starfleet made it clear that this is our priority. We need to see if we can narrow the search grid. See if you can get K'Lizh and Naga to assist you in creating a more precise search grid. If we factor in natural phenomena we should be able to refine the grid." She said as she set her cup back down.

[Ian Galloway]

[Bridge]

"We have all of the time we need, Commander." She picked up her coffee and took a sip. "Starfleet made it clear that this is our priority. We need to see if we can narrow the search grid. See if you can get K'Lizh and Naga to assist you in creating a more precise search grid. If we factor in natural phenomena we should be able to refine the grid." She said as she set her cup back down.

[Bridge]

Ian nodded as he replied.

"Aye Ma'am. Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning it is. Mister K'lizh. Mister Naga. We have our orders. I will run simulations based on the gravimetric sheer of the nebula to determine a possible course of the Darwin. I shall leave the finer adjustments of the sensors in your capable hands. Difficult nae means impossible, it just means it takes a wee bit longer than the easy tasks."

[Isabella Waters]

[Counselor's Office]

Solluk regarded the young Ensign Waters for a moment.  She had a pleasant face framed by long, dark hair.  She also had a pleasant, reassuring voice.  He'd often met counselors who had one of these attributes, but seldom those with both.
"Doctor," he decided finally, "thank you for consenting to see me."

After another hesitation, he took the usual seat that he claimed when he visited here.  He'd been visiting counselors for two years since joining Starfleet.  Before that, on Vulcan, he had spent some time with the less empathetic equivalent among his own people.  It was very different visiting a psychologist on a world where emotions were considered to be a mental disability.

Not that they were entirely wrong, of course.

Millenia ago, Vulcans had been a savage and barbaric people ruled by their emotions.  It was this period which had birthed many of the rituals and martial arts that were still practiced today.

Gradually, their barbaric natures began to change.  About five-thousand years ago, the practice of emotional control had begun to be practiced in earnest within certain monastic orders, and among religious peoples who sought a better path.   But this development was not swift.   It was not until about two-thousand years ago that a great philosopher arose who was able to fully capture the minds of the Vulcan people.   It was with Surak that the purging of emotions ceased to be a religious practice, and became a secular philosophy of logic.

With the rise of Surak's philosophy came a war to decide the ultimate path of the Vulcan people.  It was not logic that was in dispute, but rather whether logic could leave room for passion.  Those who won the war became the Vulcans of today, cool and calm and clear-thinking.  Those who lost became the Romulans and the Debrune, leaving the Vulcan homeworld as exiles.  They were molded by over two-thousand of years of bitterness as they charted a new destiny for themselves as part of a new Empire.

In a way, their departure had facilitated a swift evolution of the Vulcan people.  Those who lacked the facility to govern their emotions naturally sided with the exiles, removing themselves from the Vulcan gene-pool.   Those who had the gift of mastering themselves remained.  It had 'purified' the Vulcan genetic heritage as surely as a Eugenics program would have.

An emotionless commitment to logic became the new social standard.  Those who achieved it were admired.  As always, women and men sought the best possible matches in marriage, for themselves and for their children.  Families who were known to have mastered dispassionate logic were most in demand, and so they were most often the subject of arranged marriages.  The most logical and intellectually accomplished Vulcans became a social elite, while those who succumbed to emotion or who showed poor intellectual achievement were shunned.  After the departure of the Romulans, dozens of generations of Vulcans made these social selections for two millenia, further reinforcing the trait of emotional control among the Vulcan population.

In the modern day, the mind of a Vulcan and a Romulan were sufficiently far apart to have visible structural differences.  It was a kind of 'evolution' via unnatural selection.  The Vulcan brain's anterior cingulate cortex, involved with emotional regulation, was especially well-developed.  This was unfortunately the part of Solluk's brain that had been damaged during a spacecraft collision.  That injury was the reason that he was little better than a human at controlling his emotions.  Anger, fear, anxiety... they all bubbled and brewed together with every other emotional failing to warp his thinking processes on a daily basis.  Some days, he found it amazing that he could function at all.

To a Vulcan doctor, the condition was veritable madness.

To a human?  Par for the course.

Except that Solluk had not been raised in a human culture.  He did not know how best to work through his emotions.  His society had only taught him to repress his feelings.  To drive them completely out of a perfect, logical mind.

Solluk had never been in possession of a perfect mind.  But now he had to cope with a broken one.

"I'm not sure how familiar you are with my case," Solluk said.  "I had scheduled this appointment because of..."  His mouth twisted slightly, as though the words were bitter in his mouth.  "I have been suffering from unworthy sentiments and unacceptable expectations that are interfering with personal relationships."

[Counselor's Office]

Izzy's eyes fixed gently on Solluk thinking carefully on his words. "Unworthy. Unacceptable. I think it's important we set a proper definition for those words as they apply to this situation. My definition of those words likely are different than yours." The counselor replied softly. "I think that's probably a good starting point for us. Without using a dictionary definition, what is unacceptable to you?" She finally asked.

[Kyle Briggs]

[Engineering]

Robert had completed the diagnostics he had begun when he first arrived. Everything was as it should be. Truth be told, he had hoped something would have been out of whack so he'd had something to do but that had not been the case. Logging off his terminal, he turned to Ensign Martell, whom had been left in charge.

"I'm gonna go grab some lunch, Ensign. My diagnostic report has been filed." he said as he turned and walked out the door.

[Mess Hall]

He entered the Mess Hall a few moments later and found a table in the back corner. After getting his meal from the replicator, he walked to the table and took a seat.

[Naga Rylu]

[Bridge]

"We have all of the time we need, Commander." She picked up her coffee and took a sip. "Starfleet made it clear that this is our priority. We need to see if we can narrow the search grid. See if you can get K'Lizh and Naga to assist you in creating a more precise search grid. If we factor in natural phenomena we should be able to refine the grid." She said as she set her cup back down.

[Bridge]

Ian nodded as he replied.

"Aye Ma'am. Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning it is. Mister K'lizh. Mister Naga. We have our orders. I will run simulations based on the gravimetric sheer of the nebula to determine a possible course of the Darwin. I shall leave the finer adjustments of the sensors in your capable hands. Difficult nae means impossible, it just means it takes a wee bit longer than the easy tasks."

[Bridge Science Station]

Naga turned her head and flicked her tongue in a relaxed, almost lazy fashion.  She was feeling much better after the visit to Okekai.  Everyone made it off the planet alright, they were no longer carriers for an engineered virus, and she'd exchanged 'virtual diaries' with Shikh the other day.  She was... proud.  Yes, proud of her daughter's accomplishments in school, and her rate of acclimatization to a human-filled society.  She had an excellent disposition for this.  "I'll get right on it."  The Chief Science Gorn said, turning her attention back to her screens.  She began formulating trajectories based on the sensor readings for the last known position of the Darwin.

Her work station was no longer as bare as it had been over the past year or so.  DeWinter and Franklin had actually each gotten her gifts.  DeWinter got her a 'miniature ocean' on Okekai in the markets, a small contained ecosystem in a globe that had a cleanser fish, sand, coral, and a small crustacean with a decorative shell.  She adored it, and was quite glad it made it through all the checks alright.  Her other decoration was functional, as well as being decorative and sentimental.  It was a large Tritanium mug, designed specifically for her clawed hands and strength, and it said "#1 Gorn CSO" on it.  Rather silly, since she was in fact the ONLY Gorn in Starfleet at the moment, but the gesture had made her feel strangely... squishy on the inside.

Franklin had worried she was upset or having a reaction when her throat puff swelled slightly and changed a deeper purple, but she assured him it was not a bad response, and she appreciated the gift.  She liked them both very much.  They had two very different approaches to their work, but she found that when they worked together, they came up with answers neither could have thought of alone.  Humans were such a curious species.  It was no wonder they were thriving now that they were roaming the stars.

As she waited for her program to finish calibrating to send it to Galloway, she picked up a PADD and looked at a notice for her new personnel.  An Orion female, related to Miss Jada.  Her head spines flicked and her tail swished.  This would be very interesting.  She hoped she wasn't quite as well-armed as their Chief Security Officer, however, or at the very least that she used more organic based weapons than metal based.  She remembered the Massive Static Discharge Incident from one of the experiments her team had conducted and winced, tapping her sickle-claws against the floor of the ship as she recalled the unpleasantness that had caused her foot nerves, as the electricity had been conducted through the metal-bio alloy the replacement claws were made of.

[Jada]

[Deck 10, Forward, Mess Hall

Jada slapped s'Metra on the shoulder. 'Now, come on. You need to go meet your new gang, and get some work done. Else I tell your Mother. You're not here for a holiday.' She didn't wait for the pout, adding 'And for the Goddess's sake, maybe go put a proper uniform on first?'

'I thought you liked the Mirror universe look?' s'Metra stood, flashing a bare green midriff after she'd cut off the bottom of her cadet uniform top. 'I look cute!'

Jada rolled her eyes. 'It's a cadet uniform Á¢â,¬"œ trust me, it doesn't look cute. You should look smart. And it shouldn't show your wormhole!' She pointed at s'Metra's navel, privately disappointed at how soft her cousin was.

Relenting, wilting under her pout, she gave her an encouraging smile and a squeeze of her hand. 'Then go raise hell.'

'Thanks, cuz.' s'Metra skipped off, and Jada regretted she wouldn't be there to see her face when she met Naga. Some things you had to learn the hard way...

Not inclined to eat alone, and still in a sociable mood after chatting with s'Metra (who was fun, despite her antics), Jada took up her breakfast fruit platter and looked about for another table and someone to talk with. She saw a new face, someone who'd come aboard with the crew transfer that had brought s'Metra. He was eating alone, so Jada decided to be a good hostess. She crossed the room and met Crewman Garlande. 'Good morning. I'm Chief Jada, Security. Welcome to the Tempest.'

[Jada]

Posting as Cadet s'Metra Nozama, Science

[Bridge]

Despite Jada's recommendations, s'Metra hadn't bothered to change into a regulation uniform. After all, in Orion society, rules were more like guidelines, and she figured she was reasonably within a guideline. After all, she could be wearing way less. She was even wearing shoes! Any more, and she'd be wearing a curtain. Okay, the Academy was strict about dress code, she'd found, but things had to be more relaxed on a ship out in the Gamma Quadrant, in the Outer Dark. Nah, silly Jada, you're just jealous.

A computer told her Chief Naga (Bajorans had family names first, she'd learned that after an argument with one) was working on the Bridge. Cool! Trusting to the genuineness of a first impression, as she'd claimed, s'Metra rode the turbolift up to meet him.

She stepped out of the turbolift, expecting to see a gleaming metal starship bridge, with blinking lights and strange technologies. And saw something that looked closer to a bland, beige office with a wooden rail arching through it and soft desk chairs. Lame!

Distracted, her eyes focused on the Bridge, the Captain (a woman!), and the spacey pictures on the main viewscreen, she circled the room to the Science station. There was some kind of Saurian seated there, judging by the back of the head. 'Excuse me, do you know where I can find Chief Science Officer NagaÁ¢â,¬"?

Then it turned around, and she saw a face, huge fanged jaws, multifaceted eyes, a massive body. And lost it. 'Eek!'

[Ian Galloway]

Posting as Cadet s'Metra Nozama, Science

[Bridge]

Despite Jada's recommendations, s'Metra hadn't bothered to change into a regulation uniform. After all, in Orion society, rules were more like guidelines, and she figured she was reasonably within a guideline. After all, she could be wearing way less. She was even wearing shoes! Any more, and she'd be wearing a curtain. Okay, the Academy was strict about dress code, she'd found, but things had to be more relaxed on a ship out in the Gamma Quadrant, in the Outer Dark. Nah, silly Jada, you're just jealous.

A computer told her Chief Naga (Bajorans had family names first, she'd learned that after an argument with one) was working on the Bridge. Cool! Trusting to the genuineness of a first impression, as she'd claimed, s'Metra rode the turbolift up to meet him.

She stepped out of the turbolift, expecting to see a gleaming metal starship bridge, with blinking lights and strange technologies. And saw something that looked closer to a bland, beige office with a wooden rail arching through it and soft desk chairs. Lame!

Distracted, her eyes focused on the Bridge, the Captain (a woman!), and the spacey pictures on the main viewscreen, she circled the room to the Science station. There was some kind of Saurian seated there, judging by the back of the head. 'Excuse me, do you know where I can find Chief Science Officer NagaÁ¢â,¬"?

Then it turned around, and she saw a face, huge fanged jaws, multifaceted eyes, a massive body. And lost it. 'Eek!'

[Bridge]

Ian turned in his seat at the squeak and stared in amazement at a second Orion on the ship and one out of uniform no less.

"For the love of all that's ever been holy. It's a damn good thing she's not in my division or she'd never forget this day. Showin' up on the bridge half dressed, She'd be cleanin' waste extraction fer a month."

He snarled internally and returned to piloting possible courses for the Darwin.

[Naga Rylu]

Posting as Cadet s'Metra Nozama, Science

[Bridge]

Despite Jada's recommendations, s'Metra hadn't bothered to change into a regulation uniform. After all, in Orion society, rules were more like guidelines, and she figured she was reasonably within a guideline. After all, she could be wearing way less. She was even wearing shoes! Any more, and she'd be wearing a curtain. Okay, the Academy was strict about dress code, she'd found, but things had to be more relaxed on a ship out in the Gamma Quadrant, in the Outer Dark. Nah, silly Jada, you're just jealous.

A computer told her Chief Naga (Bajorans had family names first, she'd learned that after an argument with one) was working on the Bridge. Cool! Trusting to the genuineness of a first impression, as she'd claimed, s'Metra rode the turbolift up to meet him.

She stepped out of the turbolift, expecting to see a gleaming metal starship bridge, with blinking lights and strange technologies. And saw something that looked closer to a bland, beige office with a wooden rail arching through it and soft desk chairs. Lame!

Distracted, her eyes focused on the Bridge, the Captain (a woman!), and the spacey pictures on the main viewscreen, she circled the room to the Science station. There was some kind of Saurian seated there, judging by the back of the head. 'Excuse me, do you know where I can find Chief Science Officer NagaÁ¢â,¬"?

Then it turned around, and she saw a face, huge fanged jaws, multifaceted eyes, a massive body. And lost it. 'Eek!'

Naga blinked, looking over the very startled Orion female.  "Yes, I am Naga Rylu."  She said, not very fazed by the honest reaction.  Though, it did tell her that the girl hadn't looked up the ship's officers.  "You must be Cadet s'Metra."  She paused, then continued, remaining seated as she looked down at her PADD.  "Miss s'Metra, is your medical file out of date?"  She inquired casually.  "If it is, then I am curious as to why you are out of uniform, because surely without some sort of skin condition you would not be airing out your stomach?"  Even Naga had a fully approved uniform equipped, even though with her body type she didn't fit into it easily.  True, she didn't wear shoes, but she wore a rare form of regulation foot wrappings. 

[James H. Hawk]

[Bridge]

James took the PADD from the admiral and had a quick glance at it. "Aye, ma'am. Let's hope we do solve it," he said before standing up from the Centre Seat. "You have the Bridge ma'am," he said formally handing over command.

Once the captain was seated, James took his seat next to the admiral. He started reading the details on the PADD. The Darwin didn't stand a chance. Trapped on the other end of a wormhole, thousands of lightyears away from any friendly ship or port of call. A peaceful research ship on a mission of exploration, caught in the middle of a sudden war. There was nothing that its crew could have done.

While he was reading the PADD, he noticed a cadet enter the bridge. As Executive Officer, one of James' job was managing the crew and so he was familiar with all new transfers and most of the crew, so he recognised Cadet S'metra when he saw her. "Cadet. I'm curious, is your replicator malfunctioning or did you perhaps miss Academy lessons on uniform maintenance. Or did you get your uniform in the wrong universe?" He spoke in jest. "Next time your on my bridge, I'd like more regulation uniform. This isn't a club." The young XO didn't particularly have a problem with her uniform or lack thereof, but discipline was important to the running of a Starship and so James would let the cadet get away with it for now but wouldn't let it happen again.