ZE/D02 - Crew Quarters

[Paul]

==

[Amila Ra'an]

==Amila Ra'an's Quarters, First night aboard the Zephyr, en route to Trill==

Amila walked into her new quarters on the Zephyr to find a storage container with her things from the Titania waiting for her, placed just out of the way. On top of the container was her go-bag, something that she kept ready for calls like the one she got earlier. In the rush to report the Bridge, she hadn’t even had the time to grab that much today.

Impressive that they knew not to pack it.

She slung the bag over her shoulder, and left the storage tote untouched. She had no intention to unpack. Not tonight. But, given the circumstances she wasn't sure she would be staying in the Zephyr long enough to bother with it at all. Ameen. So much had happened in a short amount of time. It had only been one date. Had it been a mistake to even go on it? At the time it had been the thrill of her lifetime. But now? Here they were, somehow she had ended up under his command. An actual command. There was no Captain Fields here to report to, and this created a problem. He was on the cusp of a major career milestone and what they had talked about exploring could hurt him if she stayed.

Why did the thought of letting him go hurt her like this? It had only been one date.

She was too emotionally and physically tired for this.

She tossed her bag on the bed, and peeled off her uniform before stepping into the shower.

The sonic waves were warm and tingling on her muscles, but the vibrations of the sonic shower did little to wash the stress of the day. She made a point to position herself with her neck and shoulders under the vibrations for as long as she could tolerate, eventually forcing herself to stop and grab a towel before getting dressed for bed. She rifled through her bag and found a pair of shorts and an Academy sweatshirt that she had forgotten she owned. She chuckled at the memory of the long lost shirt before putting it on.

Maybe I should go through that bag every now and then.

She had to convince herself that one date was not worth the emotional energy it was taking from her. Could she get past this and serve under him if this became a permanent assignment? Of course, if she were honest with herself, she’d been secretly harboring a crush on him for a couple of years now. It would be easier for him than it would be for her. He would be worried about a new command, and she’d still be in the same place that she had been. A transfer was probably best, even if it meant that she wouldn’t be a department head again for a while longer.

Amila’s head was starting to throb, and she realized that she still hadn’t really eaten a proper meal all day. She walked to the replicator and rested her head against the wall as she placed her order, “Chai latte, decaf. Extra hot, and a plain - no scratch that - delete order. Warm uttaberry cobbler with vanilla ice cream. Extra ice cream.”

She grabbed her bowl and thought for a moment about where to sit - what to do next. She settled on the LCARS terminal, a feeling in the pit of her stomach that she was determined to chase away one way or another.

“Computer, show me a list of current Starfleet science officer openings for Lieutenant based on my current qualifications. Include all postings, regardless of location. Sort by seniority of position.”

As the list began to populate she looked down at her sweatshirt and grinned again as she thought about some of the crazier memories from back then.

“Computer, access music playlist, Amila’s Academy Pop Favorites. Play random shuffle.”

She scrolled through the listings as the familiar songs began to lift her spirits. "Computer, volume up."

[Morad Ameen]

== CSO's Quarters: enroute to Trill ==

There was a chime at Ra'an's door.

Outside, there stood Morad in his usual off-duty plaid flannel shirt over a clean white t-shirt and navy blue boot jeans. He was also sporting a brand new replicated USS Zephyr belt buckle that adorned his brown belt, which he was particularly proud of, and a pair of shoes that matched the belt's color, a simple yet thoughtful choice of attire, holding a bottle of Synthehol Romulan Ale. He’d made sure to pack that particular bottle from his quarters at DS9 before departure.
 
He’d even done something he rarely bothered with: splashed on a bit of cologne. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a faint, clean scent, maybe like fresh-cut cedar or some kind of subtle woodsy smell he’d gotten as a gift once. He hoped it wasn’t too obvious, or worse, a bad choice.

Ameen ran his fingers through his hair as he waited patiently and somewhat anxiously for the door to open.

Well... time to figure out where we are going from here... this is it... remember to breathe...

== Tag ==

[Amila Ra'an]

== CSO's Quarters: enroute to Trill ==

Amila was sitting at her desk, one leg curled underneath her, when the door chime interrupted her music - just as Amila was about to take another bite of cobbler.

Who was here?

The friends she had on board weren't like that. They wouldn't drop by unannounced. She felt a rush of nervous energy that it might be him, but surely he wouldn't risk being seen dropping by. But maybe...

She put the spoon back in the bowl and pushed it aside, and stood up from her desk and checked herself. She tugged at her shorts, which seemed impossibly short for whoever it was at the door. If only she had just stayed in her uniform.

"Come in," she answered, then quickly added "Music off," when she realized her music nearly drowned out her own voice.

Amila stood frozen in disbelief as the doors opened revealing who was on the other side. He had not only stopped by, he looked great. And here she was greeting him in her quarters without so much of a warning, and wearing was possibly some of the oldest clothing she owned. Though how she looked was only a fraction of the worries soaring through her mind. He was carrying a bottle. He knew exactly why he was here, dressed like that. To soften the blow... or something else?

She had to keep her mind prepared for the worst. She had to remain steeled. He couldn't see her upset. But something in the way he was standing there gave her hope that maybe he was here to tell her otherwise.

"You should get in here. Close the door," she finally said taking a few steps forward. "Congratulations by the way. I'm happy for you." Amila nodded at him and gave him a warm smile, still keeping some distance between them. "You look nice," she added, then looked down at herself apologetically. "I'm sorry I wasn't expecting company."

==Tag back==

[Morad Ameen]

== CSO's Quarters: enroute to Trill ==

Ameen stepped inside as Amila invited him in, the door hissing closed behind him, sealing them in the privacy of her quarters. He offered a small, appreciative smile for her congratulations.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," he said, his voice a bit softer than it was on the bridge. "It's... been a rather eventful day for all of us."

He took in her appearance. She was dressed for comfort, a stark contrast to her usual on-duty precision: a light gray heather Academy sweatshirt, its blue lettering faded with age – likely a relic from her science department studies – paired with, very short, shorts that looked equally soft and well-worn.

Definitely off-duty attire, Ameen thought. She looks... relaxed. Beautiful. A world away from the crisp uniform and the composed Chief Science Officer on the bridge, or even how she presented herself on our date. It's... disarmingly real. 

A sight that made the carefully constructed walls around 'Commander Ameen' feel a little less solid for that moment. He held up the bottle of blue Romulan Ale. 

"I, ah, managed to save this from my DS9 stash. Thought a familiar drink might be welcome after a day like today." He found a small, clear spot on a side table and set it down. "Though, to be honest," he added, turning back to her, his gaze a little more direct, "a drink wasn't the only thing I had in mind when I came by."

He met her eyes, a slight, almost nervous energy about him now. "Computer," Ameen said, his voice clear but pitched for the room's systems, "Execute order Ameen sixty-six."

For a moment, nothing happened, then on the counter to her side something materialized, not a food item, but a single, perfectly formed Andorian blue rose, its petals tinged with a faint, silvery luminescence. 

Ameen gave a small, almost sheepish shrug, a hint of a hopeful smile playing on his lips. "For the new Chief Science Officer. And... for a promising start that got rather complicated, rather quickly." 

Hopefully, that wasn't too much. Just a small gesture...

The smile faded a bit as his expression grew more serious, the purpose of his visit returning to the forefront. 

"Amila," he began, using her first name now that they were alone and the ice, perhaps, was slightly broken. "We need to talk. About... us. About where this is going, or if it can go anywhere, now that things have changed so dramatically."

He took a shallow breath as he took another step closer to her.

"As per Starfleet regulations, I've already informed Commander Keir, as my acting First Officer, about our... previous social engagement. The single date. S/he needed to be aware, given my new command responsibilities and you serving as a department head on this ship."

He wanted to be clear about the procedural aspect.

"What I also told Keir, and what I needed to tell you directly, is that despite all this upheaval, my personal hope was, and still is, to see if there's a possibility for that connection we felt to... continue. To be explored further. Obviously, with the utmost discretion, respecting all professional boundaries and regulations, especially while on duty." He ran a hand through his hair, as he continued. "It's a complicated situation, no doubt. Probably the worst timing imaginable. But I wanted you to know where I stood, and to see... if you felt there was any way forward for us, under these new circumstances."

There it was. Ball in her court now... 

He waited, the quiet hum of the ship the only sound for a moment, suddenly very aware of how much her answer mattered.

== Tag ==

[Amila Ra'an]

== CSO's Quarters: enroute to Trill ==

As Ameen stepped through the door and into her quarters, Amila stood frozen. She was both surprised by his presence, yet not surprised at all. She regarded his every move, trying to anticipate the outcome of tonight’s call before it played out - torn somewhere between hope and self-preservation.

It started when he addressed her as Lieutenant. A title that stung here inside her quarters because of the implications that she could be meant to read into it. Keep it professional.

Then he held up the bottle of Romulan ale he had brought. Synthehol though it appeared, so legal. She watched him measuredly as he placed it on a table. She didn’t have it in her to share a casual drink. She smiled weakly at him and started to shake her head, but something in the way he looked at her made her stop to hear his next words.

"Though, to be honest, a drink wasn't the only thing I had in mind when I came by."

He met her eyes, a slight, almost nervous energy about him now. She met his too. Her eyes were equally as nervous, still anticipating, trying to predict his next steps.

"Computer," Ameen said, his voice clear but pitched for the room's systems, "Execute order Ameen sixty-six."

For a moment, nothing happened. An amused grin started to play on Amila’s lips, as she thought for a moment that possibly something didn’t go as planned. Then on the counter next to her something materialized, A single, perfectly formed Andorian blue rose, its petals tinged with a faint, silvery luminescence.

Her expression changed to one of immediate awe. Her hand reached toward the flower, stopping just short of touching it. She turned to look toward him as her hand fell back to her side. Amila just barely caught the glimpse of his smile before his expression turned more serious.

“Amila,” he began. Hearing her name spoken on his lips seemed to soften the air around her almost immediately. Still, she was cautious, listening to his words carefully, not wanting to misinterpret anything that was said.

"We need to talk. About... us. About where this is going, or if it can go anywhere, now that things have changed so dramatically."

Amila nodded to him in understanding as he explained what he had told Keir. She had expected as much. She stayed silent as he continued, listening.

"What I also told Keir, and what I needed to tell you directly, is that despite all this upheaval, my personal hope was, and still is, to see if there's a possibility for that connection we felt to... continue. To be explored further. Obviously, with the utmost discretion, respecting all professional boundaries and regulations, especially while on duty." She watched as he ran his hand through his hair, and couldn’t help but smile. Through all of this, there were so many little things that made him, him.

"It's a complicated situation, no doubt,” he continued. “Probably the worst timing imaginable. But I wanted you to know where I stood, and to see... if you felt there was any way forward for us, under these new circumstances."

“If I?” Amila’s voice sounded weak as she felt her voice crack. She cleared her throat and tried again. She took a few steps toward him as she spoke again.

“If I felt there was any way forward?” She took a deep breath. “This is your command, your future. You are on the cusp of something really great here. I can’t even imagine what must be going through your mind right now.”

Amila stepped forward even further, closing the gap between them. She stood just a few centimeters away as she looked up and into his eyes.

“You know how I feel about you, right? Do you even have to ask?” Her head shook slightly, almost imperceptibly. “Of course I want there to be a way forward. But the complications don’t affect me like they will you. Are you sure that you’ve thought this through? I don’t want to be a stumbling block for you. Keir knows. But when they gave you this command and I was on the manifest…” Who didn’t you tell…

Amila looked down as she took another breath, this one more shaky than the last. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the flower. The Andorian rose. Blue, a perfect specimen. It was beautiful on its own, but even more beautiful was the gesture behind it.

She smiled and shook her head. The situation was so impossible that she almost laughed. A few minutes ago she was looking at transferring because she thought that this command meant that their date was the beginning and the end of the two of them, a cleaner break. Now, he was here in her quarters saying that he still wanted to see her. That is what he was saying, right? An obvious complication of which could be that a fleet commander transfers her so that he’s not romantically involved with someone under his command.

A classic scenario of cursed if you do, and cursed if you don’t.

The latter wasn't an impossible situation if it happened. If it were meant to be, they could make it work. She let her smile broaden as she turned her eyes back up toward his. Her mind was made up if his was. 

“I mean, getting involved with you was always going to be complicated, right? At one point or another...” Amila’s hand reached forward, her fingers just barely brushing against his. “Yet, I agreed to go out with you anyway. I must be a glutton for punishment or something.”

Her hand pressed against his a little more firmly, nudging him gently. She felt vulnerable standing in front of him. Even though he had come to her first, she preferred to keep her emotions closely guarded. Her eyes searched his, begging him to walk out now if he didn't mean everything he had shared, but hoping that he would stay. 

==tag==

[Morad Ameen]

== CSO's Quarters: enroute to Trill ==

Morad listened intently, his gaze fixed on Amila as she spoke. He saw the conflict in her eyes, the hope warring with caution, the vulnerability she tried so hard to mask. When her hand reached out, tentatively brushing against his, and then pressed a little firmer, a warmth spread through him, a counterpoint to the anxiety that had been tightening his chest. 

She was willing. Despite everything, she was willing to consider it...

He returned the gentle pressure of her hand, his thumb lightly stroking her fingers. "A glutton for punishment, huh?" A soft, almost wistful smile touched his lips. "Maybe we both are."

He took a step closer, reducing the already small distance between them. The scent of her – clean, fresh from the shower, with a hint of something sweet, maybe the cobbler – reached him. It was intimate, real, and a stark reminder of what was truly at stake here.

"Amila," he said, his voice low and earnest, his smile fading as he met her searching eyes. "You're right. This is my command, my future. And yes, I've thought about it. Probably more than is healthy over the last 24 hours." He paused, gathering his thoughts, needing her to understand the full weight of what he was about to say.

"But it's not just my career on the line here. If we do this... if we try to do this... you need to understand what it means for you." He gently squeezed her hand. "You're an exceptional officer. Talented, dedicated, and you've earned every step you've taken. But if we go down this road, you need to be prepared for the shadow it will cast. Every achievement, every promotion, every single medal you earn from this point on... there will be whispers. 'Of course, she got it. She's the CO's girlfriend.' It won't matter how hard you work, how brilliant you are. That perception will follow you."

He let out a slow breath, his expression grave. "Starfleet and the Federation... we like to think we're enlightened, beyond petty biases. But we're not. Not entirely. There will always be people who judge, who discriminate. And let's be honest," he looked directly into her eyes, "women already have to fight harder, work twice as much, just to get the same level of respect that's often handed freely to their male counterparts. It's not right, but it's the reality. If you commit to... us... it will make your path exponentially harder. You'll face scrutiny I won't. You'll carry a burden I can't fully share."

He lifted his other hand, hesitating for a fraction of a second before gently cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing away an imagined tear, though his touch was more about connection than comfort. "I want this, Amila. More than I probably should. But I can't, in good conscience, let you walk into this without seeing it with your eyes wide open. I need you to know the cost. Your cost. Because if you decide this is too much, that the price is too high... I will understand. It will hurt like hell," he admitted, his voice dropping to a near whisper, "but I will understand, and I will ensure your career continues unimpeded, even if it means finding you a post far away from the Zephyr and me."

He held her gaze, laying his own vulnerabilities bare, but focusing the weight of the decision on her reality. "So, tell me. Knowing all that... knowing the fight it will be, not just for us, but for you... is it still a path you want to walk?"

== Tag ==

[Amila Ra'an]

== CSO's Quarters: enroute to Trill ==

Ameen had clearly put quite a bit of thought into what a relationship with him might mean for her. She listened as he went through the possible ramifications, consequences that she hadn’t really thought through, though they all seemed trivial to her. She held his gaze the entire time that he spoke, recognizing that it was important to him that she understand. He wasn’t wrong, but she hadn’t joined Starfleet for the medals or accolades. For her it was about doing good, doing what was right. She had come here to follow her heart.

And now she was being given an opportunity to follow her heart again. He was standing in front of her, asking if she would walk this path with him. He seemed to not yet know how hard she had fallen, how easy it was for her to choose him. It made her nervous to reveal so much of what she was feeling for him so early, though circumstances had forced them to these crossroads at this moment.

He was asking her again for her answer, only now after going over all of the ways it could go wrong for her.

"So, tell me. Knowing all that... knowing the fight it will be, not just for us, but for you... is it still a path you want to walk?"

Amila nodded her head as she responded, “You can’t scare me off that easily.” 

She closed her eyes and drew a long breath in before opening them. She looked up at Ameen, her expression serious. “I heard you, but those things don’t necessarily matter to me. Even if they did... The connection that we have -- I’m not imagining it, or you wouldn’t be here right now. I don’t know how many chances we get at finding that with someone. I wasn't ready to just let that go.”

"I'm not ready to let that go."

==Tag==

[Morad Ameen]

Hearing Amila say, "I'm not ready to let that go," felt like a huge weight just lifted off Morad. He'd been so tense, laying out all the bad stuff that could happen. Now, a warm feeling spread through him.

A real smile, no holding back this time, finally showed on his face. He squeezed her hand back gently, his thumb rubbing her fingers a little.

"You can’t scare me off that easily, huh?" he said softly, his voice a bit thick. "Amila, you have no idea how much that means to me."

She heard all the warnings, all the potential pitfalls, and she still chose this. Chose us....

 He felt humbled by it, and yeah, still a bit scared, but mostly, it was just… great.

"You're right," he said. He looked right into her eyes, all the affection he'd been trying to hide now clear. "This connection… I wasn't imagining it either. And I don't want to let it go." He lifted his other hand and gently touched her cheek.

"This won't be easy," he admitted, and his face got a bit serious again, thinking about what she was taking on. "The things I said about how people might see it, the challenges… those are real. But Amila, I swear, I'll do everything I can to handle this right, to protect you and your career as much as I can, and to make sure whatever we have, we do it with total discretion and respect for our jobs on this ship." He leaned a tiny bit closer. "We'll face whatever comes, together, if you're truly up for it."

Her eyes seemed to say "yes" before she even spoke.

He leaned down slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull away if she wanted. Then he kissed her. It wasn't a demanding kiss, just soft and full of all the stuff he'd been feeling – relief, hope, everything. It felt like a new start, even if it was going to be tricky.

After a moment that felt way too short, he gently broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers for a second. His heart was pounding like crazy.

"Okay," he murmured, still smiling a little. "Okay." He took a slightly shaky breath. "I should… I should let you get some rest. And I need to get some myself, prepare for whatever our next watch brings and what tomorrow might hold." 

And that applies to you too, Amila... 

He stepped back a little, though his hand lingered on hers for another moment. 

"Thank you, Amila. For… for everything." He gave her hand one last squeeze. "I'll see you… on duty." The words didn't feel like enough, but that was all for now.

Before opening the door, Ameen discreetly pulled out his standard tricorder. He did a quick, subtle scan of the corridor outside. 

All clear. Good... 

He pocketed the device.

With a final, warm look and a small nod to Amila, he turned and quietly let himself out of her quarters, the door hissing shut. Walking down the empty corridor towards his own stateroom to turn in for the night, even the ship's engine hum felt different. Not just an old ship on an urgent mission anymore. Now, it felt like there was something new and important starting, something hopeful, even if it was going to be a real headache to manage sometimes...

== Next Post: Bridge ==

[Amila Ra'an]

== CSO's Quarters: enroute to Trill ==

When he left her quarters there were still many unanswered questions, but how they were going to maneuver the logistics wasn’t going to get answered in a night. And, with what seemed like an urgent mission on the horizon, it wasn’t likely to get settled in the next few days either. The how was looking to be something that they would have to figure out as they went, hopefully without too many missteps along the way.

For now she had to be content to settle in the relief that they wanted the same thing. She smiled to herself. It was a relief. It was also exciting and terrifying at the same time. He’d suggested she get some rest. A concept easier said than done while her mind was swirling with a whirlwind of possibilities. 

She noticed the unopened bottle of Romulan ale, and walked over to the table to pick it up, placing it in the cabinet next to her replicator for another night. Hopefully soon. She then took the bowl of half-eaten cobbler and melted ice cream and put it in the recycler. Finally, she turned to admire her gift.

She carefully picked up the vase that held the delicate flower and carried it to her bedside, placing it on her nightstand. She then pulled back the covers of her freshly made bed. She crawled in, drawing the covers up over her bare legs.

“Computer, dim the lights slowly, take sixty seconds to 25% darkness, even increments.”

As the lights began to dim she watched as the luminescent qualities of the ice-blue colored rose came to life in the darkness. What had been a faint shimmer in the brightness of her quarters, was now a radiant sparkle dancing across the petals. Even as a scientist, she still admired its beauty with simple awe. It brought her back to the night with Ameen under the ancient display of holographic stars just a few days ago, and another prominent emotion began to flood her swirling thoughts.

Happiness. He made her happy.


== Next post, subsequent work shift, Bridge duty ==

[Gath]

<<< Transporter Rooms <<<

When they were about to leave the Transporter Room, the Mediator made a very bold statement, causing Gath to stop. His face was very stoic as he glanced from the Mediator to the CO and then back. That gaze remained on their guest for a moment, before he then turned and said over his shoulder, "Reagan, you and one other are with me."

Reagan had been about to depart to make a quick uniform change, but after what their guest said, was a bit stunned. Now Gath was having her accompany him. She wasn't sure what was up, but she pointed to one of the other Security Officers and gave him the silent hand signal to follow her.

Gath offered no small talk along the way, but fortunately it was a short journey. The Mediator's bags were already standing in the center of the room.

Upon entering the room, Gath moved to the side and turned to face his officers, "Given the change in the situation and the importance of protection, I'm declaring the asset a primary asset of high value and a qualified No Lone Zone. It is now officially entered into the record, computer please confirm." There was a simple chirp from the ship computer.

Gath then turned to Kestir, came to attention and said, "Mediator Kestir, please enjoy our hospitality. We will continue to do everything we can to make your stay with us an enjoyable one, however, there have obviously been some changes that we had not anticipated. This does not change our commitment to your mission, however, it does change my role in certain small ways. I am committed to your safety, so I encourage you to take care of forethought in your proposed social interactions that you stated earlier. I am also committed to the safety of the crew and caution you to be aware of the cultural norms and boundaries of others on the ship. I say this as a professional courtesy and that I am aware that it might take you few days to...settle in, after everything you've been through. Do you have any questions at this time?"

== Tag for GM Input about any reply from the Mediator ==

[GM-06]

Upon entering the room, C'had eyed the large, flowery luggage suspiciously, as if he had not been expecting it. He frowned, though his mouth did twitch upwards as a finger touched the brim of the large, floppy sun hat. "Well, I'll definitely need a new wardrobe!" He commented, tossing the hat onto a cushioned surface in a lazy, frisbee-like throw.

He turned towards Gath when the Security Chief was done his proclamation, and asked, "What's a 'No Lone Zone'?" A pause as he looked towards Reagan and smiled, this one not as predatory as it had been just a few minutes ago. "Does it mean I'm to never be alone?" Such a question should have brought a sparkle to his eye, but instead, something like sadness danced behind the bright blue irises instead. 

He nudged the inordinately large luggage with his foot, moving it but a centimeter, as if it was something to regret.

[Gath]

Gath turned to face the Mediator and remaining his stoic self while conducting formal business, he replied, "No, that is an understandable way to interpret that, but it would be incorrect. A No Lone Zone is a security protocol that is used for a very critical material or operation. It means that the duty personnel assigned or working near you are to employ a two person concept. There must always be two or more qualified people. There is never allowed to be only a single person with access. This is, of course, a protocol placed upon us, not you. Your privacy will be respected and protected. This protocol keeps you safer as well as keeping our own accountability to a high level. It prevents misunderstandings, and provides redundancies in the event you were to be attacked or there to be an event that requires more than one witness to validate procedures were followed. in fact, unless you actually require medical or security intervention, your guard detail will remain outside your quarters at all times, once we leave. Your social interactions will be your own responsibility."

Gath glanced down to the luggage and then back to their guest, "Hmmm, I can certainly understand you might wish to obtain a new wardrobe. I might suggest that you consult your computer terminal. It will let you know what is currently available in our replicator menu. Should you desire something more, I suggest you find an example of it and we can have it replicated for you, or find a way that you can add it to your options. We have some very skilled people on our crew and I trust that anything you can show them an image of, they can find a way to provide for you. I can't speak to any claims of fashion sense, but many of the crew have experience with such matters and we will find a way to accommodate whatever clothing requirements you might find need of."

He paused and then inquired once more, "Anything else?"

== Tag for GM Input about any reply from the Mediator ==

[Morad Ameen]

[Ameen to Lieutenant Gath. I know you just got our guest settled,] Ameen said, his voice clipped and all business, [but plans have changed. Doctor O'Fee has identified a critical and time-sensitive medical concern. You are to escort Mediator Kestir from his quarters to Sickbay immediately. Use your discretion, but this is a priority one task. Acknowledge.]

[Gath]

At hearing the change of plans from the CO, Gath raised an eyebrow and added a hint of an apologetic tone as he said to Kestir, "Well, that certainly sounds important."

He tapped his comm badge and replied, "Acknowledged, sir." Then he tapped his badge again to close the channel.

Gesturing toward the door once more, he addressed the Mediator once more, "If you will please accompany me to Sickbay, sir."

Gath then waited for the Mediator to head to Sickbay with them.

== Brief post here to just give the GM a chance to respond to the previous post and simply add this into the conversation. We can relocate to Sickbay as well. ==

[GM-06]

C'Had looked at the replicator as if he doubted its fashion abilities, raising an eyebrow to the Klingon as if to ask him his opinion. But alas, the Klingon was in uniform, and so there was no sense of fashion preference to be seen, and C'Had could not decide if he was a good judge of clothing or not.

Upon the Captain's communication to the Chief of Security, C'Had merely chuckled, as if he already knew what Sickbay held for him. "If you insist!" He replied, indicated for Gath to lead. Shaking his head, he walked out of the room only half a step behind the Klingon Chief.


>> Sickbay >>