||[Jun. 12th, 2009|02:34 pm]
::draws to halt a few paces away from the main entrance to Starfleet's hub, cocking head to take in building...and remember last occasion for visiting::
::tamps down glare of disgusted indignation with profound effort, tugging at uniform jacket one last time before heading in::
::winces as irony of gesture strikes::
I don't see why we couldn't do this over dinner as well. God knows, I need the comfort food.
Precisely the attitude I was hoping for.
::edits statement at round of incredulous looks::
Not, of course, that Titan
and her crew are expected to welcome unwarranted dangers. Her mission is investigation both scientific and diplomatic...but we want her home in one piece, with as few casualties as possible.
::lets gaze linger on dr_moira_paris
momentarily before shaking brief flash of sentimentality...like her brother, the doctor is nothing if not a survivor::
Well. I believe that covers it....and I believe Titan
is nearly ready for crew to board. I'll allow Captain Riker to issue all future directives.
::grans chair arms, shoving self up::
He's right, the refit team is just finishing up today.
You've got the weekend...but Monday at 0800 I'll need everyone aboard...
::favors the Trill with a not so patient stare::
...in uniform, please.
That early you're lucky to catch me out of my nightslip.
::watches nonresponse as capt_will_riker
beats hasty path to door, trailed by an apologetic looking half-Betazoid::
::kicks own chair back, accepting worf_rozheno
's strong hand up::
Hey, shouldn't we talk? Where are you going?
::halts at door, keeping back turned::
::fights urge to ball fists::
To get my drinking out of the way.
...you probably should as well.
In uniform and sober.
And here I was hoping they had changed that rule.
::shrugs at Klingon when pained look is given, patting his chest soothingly::
Don't worry, Worf. This is going to be fun.