Post-Launch Dinner
#1
==Voluntary Subplot for anyone who wishes to attend!==
==Twelve hours post-launch==

Jenny didn't remember exactly when she had decided it would be a good time to dine with her officers, but it had certainly been after her initial stint as Captain of the Philadelphia; perhaps that had been the impetus for her change, she'd not known her crew as well as she had hoped, with two members of her senior staff being both total unknowns and professional irritants. Her First Officer, too, had been something of an unknown quantity and she'd felt like she had to fight to remove the influence of Captain Simmons on his former crew before she could mold it in a shape that she could work with - it had probably been a self-defeating move, as she'd tried to make the crew hers rather than integrate with their way of doing things, and the events of that first mission in the Shackleton Expanse had changed her command style.

Sort-of.

Now she pondered the wisdom of her actions as she prepared for the first of what she anticipated would be several large-scale dinners; every off-duty officer aboard the Yeager had been invited, from the most senior to the most junior, and though attendance was not mandatory she knew that the Academy still taught that an "invite" from one's Captain was tantamount to a summons, to be ignored or declined at one's own peril. While she appreciated the sentiment, Jenny often wondered whether that simply artificially reinforced the ideological gap between junior and senior officers, keeping it nice and broad so that there was less chance of fraternisation or instances where personal bias would interfere with duty.

As if they'd ever get rid of that entirely; even Picard played favourites.

Having approved the menu and sent M'Rell to ride herd over the staff catering the event, all Jenny now had to do was show up to the Mess Hall, which had been closed for the function. This was going to be a working dinner as well as a getting-to-know-you event for the newer officers, as Jenny had finally received their orders. As she entered the Mess Hall, she noted that most of the tables and chairs had been moved and discretely stacked against the far wall. The bar was stocked with the finest synthetic alcohol, with its limited supply of real alcohol kept locked under the bar and only distributed with her own approval. The remaining tables had been arranged in a long line with sufficient seating for all, with places arranged by rank and seniority - Jenny would sit at the head of the table, facing down the table, with Jensen to her right and Qi to her left; then Hydish and Black would sit opposite each other; Beinn opposite D'Tor'an, and so on.

As a few Support crew were still laying out utensils, glasses and water jugs, Jenny opted to stay out of their way and instead simply watched the stars streaking past as they headed out on their newest adventure.
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#2
The doors to the mess hall opened, as the Chief Medical Officer stepped inside. Kal-Geal was in his duty uniform, with a set of blue pigments on his fur in the form of some kind of tribal markings. To those that had some knowledge of the Children of San-Tarah, these markings denoted a Child's position within their clan, as well as their age and the clan itself. Kal-Geal's markings would tell another Child of San-Tarah that he came from the northern regions of the planet, and that he was an adult healer within that clan.

However, like Jenny, Kal-Geal stayed out of the way of the support staff, and went to stand near the viewports where Jenny was.

"Thank you for the invitation Captain. Both invitations. One for this dinner, and the other for Star Fleet. I would have missed being able to explore this boundless frontier, if I had returned home."

Kal-Geal, most notably, was lacking the Klingon battle armor he used to wear aboard the previous Yeager, now that he was a member of Star Fleet. That armor, was still in his quarters, but now he wore the tunic and pants of a Star Fleet officer, although much like the Klingon uniform, he lacked shoes and instead wore another form of covering for his foot pads.

=tag==
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#3
T'Lari entered the mess hall and took a quick look around. She had never participated in such an event, such dinners not being something her previous commanding officers had been interested in. Captain Carstair of the Nile had been rather dismissive of junior officers and had been uninterested in socializing with even his senior staff. Captain Braggins, from the young officer's previous experience with her, was much less formal. Looking down the table she quickly spotted her assigned seat, about a third of the way down.

Few others were here. The Captain stood by the viewport, watching the star streak by, and her comrade from the first Yeager, Kal-Geal Beinn, had approached and greeted her. T'Lari decided to do the same.

T'Lari had made the decision to look her best for the dinner. She had been accused of being vain for a Vulcan, and she had to admit there was at least an element of truth in it. Her uniform was freshly cleaned and pressed despite recently coming off duty, and she had gotten a haircut that had shortened her auburn hair a bit. Even her nails were freshly painted.

This is a new beginning for me, and I intend to treat it as such. Perhaps some human optimism is rubbing off on me.

"Greetings, Captain Braggins," she said calmly. "And maj choS to you as well, Kal-Geal Beinn."

T'Lari's Klingon was very good, and her greeting of 'good evening' was about as polite as the language got, considering that the word for 'hello' literally translated as 'what do you want?'

== Tags Kal-Geal and Jenny ==
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#4
Qi was surprised to see that the Mess Hall had been rearranged to assemble the a banquet. He had hoped to get to know his new crewmates, but he didn’t realize that the opportunity would present itself all at once.

He was relatively early. The only people present were the captain herself, the Vulcan/Romulan woman that he’d seen on the Bridge, and a wolflike officer that he’d seen on DS9.

"Greetings, Captain Braggins," the Vulcan said calmly. "And maj choS to you as well, Kal-Geal Beinn.”

Qi’s eyebrows went up at the woman’s impressive pronunciation. He smiled approvingly. “Are we having Klingons over for dinner tonight? I suppose today is a good day to dine.”

He scanned the offerings at the bar. All synthehol, to his dismay. It was undoubtedly a scientific marvel to create a compound whose debilitating effects could be easily dismissed. To the untrained palate, it almost tasted the same, but he preferred the real thing or nothing at all.

“Always good to meet fellow language enthusiasts,” Qi said to the Vulcan and the wolflike officer. "I always struggled to pick up the Klingon language. Are you both fluent?”

== Tag all ==
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#5
It had been a long day with their launch from Antares, but the Captain had set up this crew assembly come dinner, and despite all she wanted was to go back to her quarters and either prepare for tomorrows duty rota and maybe sleep. This was also a requirement of her role.

The hall had been rearranged from earlier in the day from individual table seating into one long banquet like set up running along the middle of the room.

While the catering team went about their work on one side of the room, a few other officers were already present, talking with the Captain.

Moving to the bar area, Maz picked up an orange juice in a tall stemmed glass. Those already there, were all engaged with each other. So she stood back from the group and waited for others to arrive.
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#6
For a good while, Jade bounced the idea of whether or not to actually attended the open invitation for a crew invite dinner. Nothing about the invite gave the impression that it was actually mandatory for said off-duty personnel to attend. However, there just happened to be one tiny wrinkle in the whole ordeal.
 
Common sense says that if it’s the Captain inviting you to something, it’s probably in your best interest to take them up on said invitation. Politics at its finest. If you ever want to get noticed, and or standout, you have to make sure you do so. Also the first time I’ll be seeing a lot of faces, without seeing them in a tiny monitor.
 
Stepping into the temporarily remodeled mess hall, Jade had kept her usual appearance. Perhaps if she’d have given it some thought she would’ve changed her hightlight color. However, she expected the Captain wanted to have this little get together to give the crew a chance to get to actually mingle, to an extent. Going for her usual standard appearance would be the most logical.
 
Taking a glass of water, Jade took a couple cautious sips. It wasn’t that she wasn’t friendly or anything, but she was adapting to her first ship and crew since graduation. The fact she was looking at the room in a security perspective probably wasn’t helping her cause any.
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#7
== NRC – Flint Chertstone – Tactical Officer ==

The doors of the mess hall opened, and Flint Chertsone – Tactical Officer, walked in. He took a moment to pause allowing his six foot two frame to be silhouetted by the light of the corridor behind him.

Then pointing at the bar keeper and winking as he did so, he strode over. Resting one elbow on the top while turning his body outward to face the rest of the room, he ordered a synthale. His voice was was like chamois leather on mink. A voice so smooth and deep that if they met, Orson Wells would been jealous.

Taking a draw from his glass, he looked over in the direction of a young security officer with long dark hair and coloured highlights. He took the opportunity to flash her a smile so white, the room seemed to brighten.

“Hi.” He said, the single syllable seemed to reverberate in the air. “Flint Chertsone – Tactical Officer.”

== Tag West Big Grin ==
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#8
==Now we have a few people here I'll get the ball rolling; if you're showing up after this post, feel free to have arrived before dinner starts or be fashionably late (bring excuses!)==

Jenny had nodded politely at the guests who had come to speak with her, but had left the officers to their own devices and conversations; this was going to be a working dinner, though they did not know it, and out of the corner of her eye she watched the door to the Mess Hall in the reflection from the viewport; she was still missing some vital members of her senior staff, and thus far there were no representatives from Engineering present.

Doing this before we left was probably smarter, but we didn't have our orders. This is probably why people like the "traditional" method.

As more guests filtered in and conversation among them grew, the NCO in charge of the event discretely approached Jenny to tell her that the food was almost ready. That meant it was time to begin; some people, she knew, would eat before work, but this was going to be one of those work-first, eat-later occasions. The eating later would salve any bruised egos given the...ignominious nature of their mission. With the Support Staff rounding people up and directing them to their seats, Jenny approached the table last and waited for everyone to be seated before clearing her throat; public speaking not being one of her strong suits, she made sure to make it as brief as possible.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for coming. I arranged this dinner for us to get to know each other better on a more personal level, but before we eat I also wanted to share news of our assignment so you can distribute it among the crew. The good news is, we managed to go twelve hours in our brand new ship without anything breaking or exploding."

Jenny allowed herself a small smile at that; anyone who'd been with her on the previous Yeager, and there were more than a few among the crew who'd jumped at the chance to get back onto a formally-commissioned starship, knew that the older ship had been plagued with technical problems that gave it "character". For Engineers like Ian Elliot, it had been a challenge, while for others it had been a simple fact of life.

"The bad news is our new mission hardly warrants the attention of Starfleet's newest ship, no matter how unorthodox her construction or crew. We're assigned to update star charts along the Federation/Talarian border; accurate charting has fallen off since the Cardassians invaded and the Starfleet presence in the area was pulled back to prevent upsetting the Cardassians. Fortunately, someone at HQ has finally fired up the brain cell that all Admirals share, and they're sending us to correct their mistake."

Like always, they screw up and the little guy suffers.

"We're also to ensure the integrity of the border and prevent any unauthorised crossings in both directions. I'm sure you've heard rumours of the Talarian Resistance using Federation tech to fight the Cardassians, some of you may even agree we should be helping them, but our job is to prevent smugglers crossing the border with anything that might make the Cardassian Union claim Federation aggression. Any questions?"
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#9
Alexander arrived at the dinner just as everyone was being seated. As usual he had gotten distracted. He had stopped to analyze a strange instrument reading when he was already almost late. Luckily today anyways, the fix had been quite simple and only taken a few minutes or else Alex likely would have missed the dinner all together.

Looking around the room Alex recognized one or two other officers he had seen around. Including Midshipman West. Alexander waved to her as he quickly took his seat, so as not to delay the Captain who appeared nearly ready to speak.

A patrol and survey mission that sounds perfect for breaking in a new ship! 

So far the ship had been a dream, full of new components and systems. Like any freshly launched ship though there were definitely issues as well, just like the miscalibrated system he had found on the way to dinner. 

I wonder what we are going to eat? I am starving!
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#10
This was something Artie referred to as “mandatory fun.” It was a mission briefing and a crew dinner with the Captain all rolled into one - not something she was looking forward to. A mission briefing Art would welcome. A dinner with the Captain, she would be on her best behavior for. An open-invitation crew dinner, that could be a lot of fun. But all of those? Art was on alert.

She wasn’t the first one to turn up, and mentally kicked herself for it. She knew it was due to her reluctance to go, but how would it look if the Chief of Security was absent? The only acceptable reason would be for her to be restrained in Sickbay, and though she and the CMO were friends, she didn’t think this was the kind of favor she needed right now.

When Art walked in, she noticed the seating arrangements; she noticed the name placards, as well. Instead of groaning, she pushed her tongue against the back of her teeth, then tipped her chin up, straightening her spine as the doors swooshed shut behind her. Beinn is here, she surveyed, after a nod hello to the Captain. T'Lari… new Chief of Science, Qi… Black… that Engineering newbie, what was his name? Something human… Turner! Aha, and my new Middie, West.

The last person she saw made her feel a bit at ease - the poor young girl probably felt just as much obligation to be here, albeit probably more nervous about the whole thing. But at least Art wouldn’t be the only Security officer here. She did her best to meander to the bar - it didn’t look good on anybody for the COS to make a beeline for the bar. “Good evening, Chief.” The bartender said evenly. “What’ll it be?”

Knowing that anything she ordered would be a “mocktail” (and not really keen to being altered in any way, especially in uniform), Art ordered a strawberry margarita. It came in a classic margarita glass, and the top-heavy drink settled in the fist she made in order to hold it.

“Didn’t know Klingons drank margaritas.” The bartender teased, smiling.

“Don’t start with me,” Art threw back, though she was smiling as well. She moved away from the bar after taking a big sip, reducing her drink by a third. “I’ll be back.” She added, moving now towards the table that had her placemat. She wanted to see who she was sitting near.


==Taggites!==
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#11
“Always good to meet fellow language enthusiasts. I always struggled to pick up the Klingon language. Are you both fluent?” Qi asked.

"Yes," T'lari responded with a slight nod of greeting. "Klingon can be a difficult language. It's so... expressive." She had had rarely had difficulty learning new languages, though the emphasis Klingons placed in their words had been a bit of a challenge. The half-Vulcan had never been one to back away from a challenge.

As the small knots of people finished their side conversations the Captain cleared her throat. "Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for coming. I arranged this dinner for us to get to know each other better on a more personal level, but before we eat I also wanted to share news of our assignment so you can distribute it among the crew. The good news is, we managed to go twelve hours in our brand new ship without anything breaking or exploding."

A welcome change.

"The bad news is our new mission hardly warrants the attention of Starfleet's newest ship, no matter how unorthodox her construction or crew. We're assigned to update star charts along the Federation/Talarian border; accurate charting has fallen off since the Cardassians invaded and the Starfleet presence in the area was pulled back to prevent upsetting the Cardassians. Fortunately, someone at HQ has finally fired up the brain cell that all Admirals share, and they're sending us to correct their mistake."

Interesting. Starfleet has sent a captain who was just involved in an upsetting incident with the Cardassians to their border, along with a brand-new starship. Perhaps a message is being sent?

"We're also to ensure the integrity of the border and prevent any unauthorised crossings in both directions. I'm sure you've heard rumours of the Talarian Resistance using Federation tech to fight the Cardassians, some of you may even agree we should be helping them, but our job is to prevent smugglers crossing the border with anything that might make the Cardassian Union claim Federation aggression. Any questions?"

T'Lari had heard the rumors, of course. She was neutral about whether the Talarians should be helped. She was no fan of the Cardassians, to say the least, but resistance movements were always a gamble... they could easily get out of control. On numerous worlds whole peoples had been massacred by their supposed 'liberators.' If the Federation was arming them the whole situation could backfire, and that didn't even include the possibility of weapons getting into the hands of less-developed cultures. As cynical as she was about Starfleet nothing would have surprised her about the situation.

She didn't have any questions, though, so she merely waited patiently for others to ask.

== Tags ==
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#12
So much for being punctual...

Altairi stood before the mess hall doors, just out of the proximity sensor's view. He patted furiously at the sides of his pants and jacket, lips forming into a grimace when he noticed the grease stain on his sleeve. He'd spent a solid thirty minutes locked in his quarters, tearing apart and putting a busted door control module together again, then some ten minutes running to the mess hall. Not for one second did the thought of putting on a fresh uniform strike his mind.

So here he was--not very fashionable, and very late.

He fell into a brisk walk once the doors opened, making his way to his seat and hoping no one would pay much attention to him.

There was a familiar tension in the air around the table. It seemed like Braggins had already delivered her mission briefing and, judging by some of the faces he saw gathered around, it'd been worrying as usual. 

Good timing... Good.... timing.
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#13
Peter was well aware that an "invitation" of this kind was not really an invitation at all.
So he had of course donned a freshly replicated uniform, made sure it fit, and headed towards the mess hall. Upon arrival he saw that he was not the first to arrive, and so he greeted everyone politely and with a smile, before taking his seat eventually at the Captain's right side, and awaited the start of the show.

As he had suspected, this was not just a dinner, a social occasion, but also served as their mission briefing. And the mission is question was hardly worthy of this crew. Updating star chats? He frowned for a moment before he caught himself and returned his face to the proper folds. Just in time, too, because the next part of their mission suited him even less. Policing the border for the Talarian resistance.

Funny, thought he, how they seem to not only want to avoid a war with the Cardassians, but to actively help them.

Avoiding the appearance of aiding the Talarians made sense, of course. The Federation wouldn't like foreign interventions in underground militant groups operating on its territory either.

Then again...we aren't a totalitarian oppressive regime who conquer other species and run concentration camps where we use these people as slaves to stripmine their planets, his inner voice reminded him, so that he had to blink to refocus on the Captain's words.
And she was right. Orders were orders. And without the predictability of adherence to the chain of command, things turned to chaos. Which was why Peter had been so conflicted during the last mission, even though he still felt he'd done the right thing. And in the end, he had been proven right: Things had turned to chaos and it'd taken something extraordinary to crawl back from it.

He looked around the table discreetly, noticing the new Midshipmen and forced himself to conceal a smile.

I'd have been scared out of my wits if my first mission briefing had included a dinner with the Captain, he thought, as he looked at the faces in front of him.
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#14
Sipping her juice, Black looked over at where Chertstone had entered and was being, well, Chertstone. She'd read his jacket, and would be having words with him later.

Once more people had arrived, the Captain called for them to be seated. The little cards at each setting designated their places. The Captain took the head of the table, and the senior staff followed by the rest along the line.

Black found herself sandwiched between Commander Qi and Doctor Beinn. Opposite her were the Commander and Lieutenant d'Tor'an. The empty space directly opposite was for Lieutenant Hydish who was still to arrive.

"Ladies and Gentlemen,” The Captain began. “Thank you for coming. I arranged this dinner for us to get to know each other better on a more personal level, but before we eat I also wanted to share news of our assignment so you can distribute it among the crew. The good news is, we managed to go twelve hours in our brand new ship without anything breaking or exploding."

There was a small titter around the table.

"The bad news is our new mission hardly warrants the attention of Starfleet's newest ship, no matter how unorthodox her construction or crew. We're assigned to update star charts along the Federation/Talarian border; accurate charting has fallen off since the Cardassians invaded and the Starfleet presence in the area was pulled back to prevent upsetting the Cardassians. Fortunately, someone at HQ has finally fired up the brain cell that all Admirals share, and they're sending us to correct their mistake. We're also to ensure the integrity of the border and prevent any unauthorised crossings in both directions. I'm sure you've heard rumours of the Talarian Resistance using Federation tech to fight the Cardassians, some of you may even agree we should be helping them, but our job is to prevent smugglers crossing the border with anything that might make the Cardassian Union claim Federation aggression. Any questions?"

That's when the doors opened and Hydish arrived and took his seat.

So Cardassians. Again. She mused. And we're going to fly the flag. The Ant to the Boot. The hummingbird to the hurricane. That's our job now.

Out of the corner of her eye as she thought, she could have sworn there was a glimmer of something in the Commanders face opposite. Had he too made the same conclusion?

Whatever the meal was going to be, Black had lost her appetite.
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#15
"And maj choS to you as well, Kal-Geal Beinn."

Kal-Geal nodded to the greeting, and replied, 

"Quch ramjep." 

Then he heard Qi complement them on their fluency, and added to them, 

"I speak the language of the Empire fairly well. My Federation Standard isn't as good."

And then he added something in a very foreign sound, that was almost like a wolf growl, but it had definite language encoded into it. "My San-Tarah is my best language, though I rarely find others who can speak it. The universal translator has so far been unable to translate it for me, which is probably a good thing, given how many misunderstandings that might happen."

He then listened to Captain Braggins introduce the mission to them, and he thought less of Star Fleet's admiralty at that moment. Fortunately, he kept his mouth shut, as he looked over the food being prepared and the drinks at the bar. 

One of the things that caught his eyes, was Alexander. His former boss had been a Caitian, but to Kal-Geal, Caitians were always interesting, as they had the same builds as hunters on San-Tarah, but instead chose to be peaceful, rather than let the beast and soul coexist together. He also preferred them, as their body language was easier to understand. Tails and ears made for more expression than just tone of voice and words alone.

Kal-Geal went to the bar before sitting down with a bowl of water in his hand at his chair at the table.

==tag==
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#16
"Yes," T'lari responded with a slight nod of greeting. "Klingon can be a difficult language. It's so... expressive.”

That was an understatement. Qi would have said ‘blunt’ or ‘melodramatic’. Even the talking slugs of Gallus IV could turn a better metaphor than the Klingons. He preferred the subtlety of the Romulan language.

"I speak the language of the Empire fairly well. My Federation Standard isn't as good,” Beinn replied.

What followed was a fascinating sound that Qi had never heard before. "My San-Tarah is my best language, though I rarely find others who can speak it. The universal translator has so far been unable to translate it for me, which is probably a good thing, given how many misunderstandings that might happen.”

Qi’s eyes lit up. “That’s a beautiful language! I’d love to hear more of it sometime. I have extensive experience programming the Universal Translator, if you’re interested in —“

Qi was cut off as the captain began her mission brief, which was probably for the best. He could have kept talking all night.

The mission itself seemed routine, possibly even dull. Still, they had to be on their toes with Cardassians in the equation. Superficially, they were there to update some star charts, but it seemed like their patrol would serve a more practical purpose as well. Were they mending fences for the Federation, or becoming the quadrant's border patrol?

“Captain, what kind of Federation tech are the Talarians working with? And, for that matter, where are they getting it?” Qi asked. It wasn’t unheard of for the Federation to leave dangerous technology lying around, but he hoped that wasn't the case.

== Tag Captain/all ==
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#17
She moved towards where the Captain was posturing; she wasn’t too thrilled about being near the woman, but Art knew she at least had to listen to what she had to say. Taking a seat, Art realized she had no food or menu, but the Captain had begun speaking.

“I arranged this dinner for us to get to know each other better on a more personal level…”

Art snorted.

“We're assigned to update star charts along the Federation/Talarian border. Accurate charting has fallen off since the Cardassians invaded, and the Starfleet presence in the area was pulled back to prevent upsetting the Cardassians. Fortunately, someone at HQ has finally fired up the brain cell that all Admirals share, and they're sending us to correct their mistake.”

Just like her, Art thought, stuffing her face into her margarita glass. Can’t go ten minutes without insulting someone else to make herself look better.

Her drink was almost gone already.

“We're also to ensure the integrity of the border, and prevent any unauthorized crossings in both directions.

The Security Chief’s “spidey-senses” were already going off.

“I'm sure you've heard rumors of the Talarian Resistance using Federation tech to fight the Cardassians. Some of you may even agree we should be helping them, but our job is to prevent smugglers crossing the border with anything that might make the Cardassian Union claim Federation aggression. Any questions?”

Aaaand there it is. Art thought, draining off the rest of the glass. All that means is you’re going to go pick a fight with the Talarians, and we’re supposed to back you up. Okay, cool. Guess my next job is to go find as much intel as I can on the them. At least I get a heads-up this time.

Luckily for Art, there were people with questions. The Science Chief asked if Braggins knew anything about the Talarian’s tech, and what their trade channels were. Art stared into her empty glass, willing it to fill back up with pink liquid. If Braggins knew those answers, she would be genuinely surprised. But of course, Braggins was notorious for holding back information.

The Security Chief stood up and walked to the bar to get herself a refill.


==Bitter Klingon alert!==
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#18
== NRC - Lt(jg) Papaver – Science ==


Papaver had arrived not too early, and not too late to the event. Officers were mingling, and there were a mixture of old and new faces.

From the bar she ordered a Malibu and found her place at the table. She was in the cheap seats as she expected. Senior staff at one end and lower deckers at the other.

She hadn't seen her new collogue since their conversation earlier in the day, but she sensed he would arrive if he wished to. She did however find herself seated across from another feline officer a midshipman in engineering colours.

“Hi ya.” she said in introduction just as Braggins began her speech. “Any idea what's on the menu? I'm starving. I could eat a horse.”


== Tag Turner ==
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#19
As predicted, but not for the reasons Jenny had anticipated, the news had gone down like a proverbial lead balloon; the crew were not enthusiastic about their mission, and Jenny had her theories as to why; while stellar mapping was hardly glorious work that'd win them any medals or commendations, it was still important work. Jenny suspected that in addition to boredom, their proximity to the Cardassian border was off-putting to many, especially those who had served with her on the Philadelphia's fateful previous mission.

“Captain, what kind of Federation tech are the Talarians working with? And, for that matter, where are they getting it?”

Qi was the only member of her crew to have a question, and it was a legitimate concern to know what they might be up against. Jenny knew the theories, she knew the stories, and she was well-aware of the history between the Federation and what had once been the Talarian Republic. Unfortunately what she didn't have, because either Starfleet Intelligence didn't have them or were unwilling to share them, was a list of concrete answers. Jensen and D'Tor'an would be unlikely to believe her, but it was what it was.

"All Starfleet Intelligence has are theories; the most likely one is they're using out of date tech looted from ships ambushed during the border skirmishes in the fifties. That doesn't rule out weapons being provided by sympathisers on our side of the border, or weapons provided by false-flag Cardassian operations to drag us into the conflict. Ultimately the fact the Talarian fleet didn't simply crumble in the first days of the invasion and is still actively resisting along the frontier implies that someone has provided them with better technology."

It wasn't much, but it was all she had. Intelligence assets in the area were few and far between, and most were focused on preventing Cardassian expansion into Federation territory. The fact it was their secondary mission probably didn't help, either; why would SFI waste their time briefing someone who was going to spend weeks looking at gaseous anomalies and checking off boxes to confirm the maps were up to date?

"I don't expect it to be an issue for us, but we will need to plan for it just in case. I want preliminary Tactical and Security plans for apprehending potential smugglers by ten hundred hours tomorrow."
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#20
Suspicious.

While on the surface it seemed like there was little to be concerned about with the Talarians, something didn't sit right with T'lari. Intuition wasn't logical, but the sense was there so as the Captain was speaking the Tactical officer tried to break the situation down and determine what was causing her suspicion. She failed.

There is simply not enough information at this time, though it would be prudent to not simply accept the situation as is. More than once the Federation has been caught smuggling technology to less-advanced species, despite the Prime Directive. If that is the situation and news gets out it would be another blow against the Federation, another propaganda tool for the Cardassians.

"I don't expect it to be an issue for us," the Captain continued, "but we will need to plan for it just in case. I want preliminary Tactical and Security plans for apprehending potential smugglers by ten hundred hours tomorrow."

"Yes, Captain," T'Lari responded. She would have to get with her department head, Lt. Black, as soon as the dinner was over. It was going to be time to truly give the sensors on this new ship a workout.
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