ten_fwd | [Ten Forward:] Arrival of Starfleet Brass

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[Ten Forward:] Arrival of Starfleet Brass

[[ Moments earlier, in Transporter Room 1... ]]

Picard re-enters Ten Forward tonight, this time leading a group of three. Only one appears to be in a Starfleet uniform, though it isn't precisely like the ones guests see every day. The color is command red, but there is extensive gold trimming which indicates that this officer is of a higher rank than any the Enterprise entertains on a daily basis.

"All of our guests, at one time or another, come to Ten Forward," Picard tells them. He looks tired already. After this, he will certainly need a cup of earl grey tea. "Most appear here on their first visit to the ship, and as such it's one of the few places they are allowed until they pass quarantine."

"Until you let them loose on the rest of the ship, and even give them employment, you mean?" the Vice Admiral counters.

Captain Picard sighs.

"Are the displaced guests allowed to mingle with the rest of the complement?" the woman asks, surprised. She stifles a yawn behind her hand, embarrassed by the slip. She's inexplicably tired all of a sudden.

"Yes, of course," Captain Picard answers. "The alternative would be keeping them under lock and key. We don't allow them in restricted areas, of course, but they are free to visit any civilian areas of the ship."

The third person among them, by far the most innocuous and average-looking of the group, slips into the crowd.

"Clearly we have a lot of work ahead of us," the Vice Admiral sighs, fixing Picard with a pointed look.

[ooc: ~casually floods the comm with Picard's face, oops~ OK, so here's the promised arrivals post for your June plots. If you're getting your characters involved in the little rascals plot, you can send one around to bump into one of our three NPCs. By tomorrow, you'll all look a little younger. If you signed up for an encounter with one of these officers, you can start first impressions here. We'll be sending links to a more formal "questioning" for all characters in the sign-ups post. This is NOT your only opportunity to get in on the kid plot. Once the first few tag in, they will be contagious and tagging them in their logs will pass the virus onto your characters. If this post gets flooded we may close it to new tags, just so we can give everyone who does tag in our full attention. If you want a thread with one NPC in particular, let us know in the subject line of your tag, otherwise we'll pull one from the random hat for you. Picard is not open for tags, but he does have an OTA post here if you need him.]

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Elizabeth was sitting at a table sketching a still life of a cocktail glass and fruit. The glass contained water but it looked classy and that amused her. Plus the shape was different enough to be a challenge.

She looked up when new people came in, curious about why one appeared to be more heavily decorated than the rest. The military and organizations like it seemed to love their gilded officers. It bothered her that Picard looked so uneasy. She folded her notebook closed and tucked it into a pouch on her belt before making her way over to investigate. She wanted to hear what the officer was saying to the captain, to make sure everything was alright.

Alec has been air doodling out something that looks like the Flying Spaghetti Monster on Steroids and rainbows with his chair tilted back and feet on the table. When he spots the Captain and his guests he just starts cracking up.

Like this is the funniest thing he's ever seen before in his life.

He laughs so hard that he tilts the chair over and falls to the ground with a thump.

"FFFfFfff...HAH!"

"Ow."

This is what Lt Cdr Coates is good at. There's a reason he vanished into the crowd while Vice Admiral Tyrrell and Agent Learmont speak with the captain. Coates is naturally gifted with an appearance that makes him blend easily into crowds, and that's what he's doing.

Maybe some people didn't even see him come in and slip away.

Maybe they did.

Either way, he -- in civilian clothes, rather than his uniform -- appears next to the woman.

"Something interesting going on?"

Elizabeth smiled at the (attractive) stranger. He must be relatively new. She shrugged and pointed to Picard. "He looks nervous, which is unusual for someone used to trouble like the captain of this ship must be. I wonder what they're talking about?"

She decided it was better to talk to the new guest than stalk the captain. It was less likely to lead to her being reprimanded. "Are you new? I haven't seen you before. I'm Elizabeth DeWitt." She offered a hand to shake his.

Thor had been wandering this morning, and he always made sure to make a stop in ten Forward. Now garbed in relatively regular modern clothing, he found this place to be soothing. And, of course, he could sometimes get the bartender to make him some new kind of coffee. Which, when the visitors come in, was what he was doing.

Having gotten his drink, he was rather happily sipping it and sitting near the bar when he turned and spotted the three with Captain Picard, including the one who rather adroitly slipped away. That made Thor's eyes narrow a touch, before his expression smoothed to a neutral one. That move, so smoothly executed, reminded him of Loki, and that, well, that just set off alarm bells in his head. He stepped forward, once, his first instinct, driven by the experience of the three Thors in his memories, was to watch and perhaps confront.

However, he was not those three, despite everything, and he was not going to look for a fight without knowing there was a reason. As well, he knew from a few conversations, that the captain was a formidable man. Surely he could take care of himself. It would not hurt, perhaps, to be... close, should that not be the case.

And so Thor moved nearer the group to where he could settle to an unoccupied table. He drank his coffee, and over his cup, his eyes watched the two with the captain and sometimes strayed to search the room for the third new person as well. He was hardly the only one watching, but he was also the largest of them doing so, and even with Mjolnir concealed by its power, he stood out in a crowd. And it is perhaps true that he was not trying too hard to fit in.

Some habits were hard to break.

If there was ever a worst time for an explosion, that would be when you could always count on their being one, correct? Correct. Irrefutable law of science.

Completely unaware that people had come to judge her and the others, Agatha was going about her usual routine. She still had a list of projects a mile long to work on, and was getting inspired by new things all the time.

Just now... she was working on her own take on a transporter unit. Since the argument with Killian, she was determined to prove that science could move something from one location to another without visible or obvious means, instantaneously.

He claimed magic could do that, but there was no magic, only science one did not comprehend. She intended to prove it.

So far she was working on a smaller scale, trying to transport an apple from one end of the table to the other. This all could have been averted if they had shown her a transporter, but then, of course, she would have wanted to take it apart, so maybe it was just as well.

She had a dish on either end of the table, with small rays arrayed around the rim, pointing inward. She took a bite of her food as she checked the calibration one last time. If this worked, the apple she put in the left hand tray should appear in the right hand one...

She didn't bother to pull on her goggles. The mad girl gleam was in her eyes, and safety precautions were not a priority.

If they were, she might have tried to clear the room.

"Here's to science!" she said, toasting her creation with her drink before pressing the button....

Beams came from the tray it was on and struck the fruit.

The apple shook. Vibrated. Rocked. There would be, for just a moment, the wonderful smell of baked apples...

Just before the apple, and both plates, exploded. The apple really didn't look large enough for how much apple goop it shot out in every direction. This time, however, the table was more or less intact. So... that was a victory. It was messy, as was everyone around her, but intact.

One thing Kaylin will never be used to...and never take for granted...is the abundance of food here. Free for the taking. She would be walking with a heavily laden tray, for a table, when she spotted them coming in. She turned to approach... and saw one of them slipping into the crowd.

She narrowed her eyes at that, and instead of approaching and trying to figure out how to salute with a full tray, she moved carefully, keeping a subtle eye on him, as she found a table that let her see the whole room. She sat down and kept a watch, between him and the other two...but mostly him.

If this was a test to see if they could catch someone thieving, they would pass, and the thief would be lucky if all she broke was his arm. Since he did come with the other...guests... she reminded herself no to use her daggers.

Talking to Trevor had helped some. Oddly... so had talking to Finnick. But... Prim... was still having issues with Katniss being gone. She wandered into the lounge, looking for Killian, since she promised to come see him from time to time.

But there was no mistaking that the 13 year old girl in the over-sized leather hunting jacked, clutching a mangy old cat, was depressed. Her eyes weren't as hollow and empty as they had been, but there were still dried tear stains on her face and a bruised look that tugged at the heart more than if she actually had bruises.

She sat at a table, hungry, but... too listless to get up and get food just yet. Just walking to ten forward had felt exhausting, and she wasn't quite sure why.

Bob is sitting at a chair replete in his full regalia, and a winter coat. He's picking at some poutine, though is apparently dissatisfied with it.

He looked over at the new guests with some interest, though the dissatisfaction lingers.

Vice Admiral Tyrrell is not known for his sense of humor, but no more are the DTI. The sound of laughter makes the Admiral frown, but he's deep in conversation, so it's Agent Learmont who detaches herself from the group and goes over to the man, where he's now flopped over onto the floor.

"Something amusing?" she asks, coolly.

"Do you need help?"

Alec loves the DTI. Really. He even tried being DTI in another reality but had too much of a sense of humor and was lousy at paperwork.

When approached, still on the floor, he gives a hiccuping laugh. "No. I'm good. You're not going to be. But I'm good."

And he starts laughing again.

"I can't WAIT for tomorrow. It's going to be GREAT. Actually, the next little while is going to be great!... And little. Lots of little going on."

... Oh dear.

Look. It's a walking and talking piece of paperwork.

It was, of course, rather obvious that the three investigators were the subject of much interest and curiosity in the lounge. Strangers tend to be on board any vessel; Agent Learmont has done enough investigating for the Department of Temporal Investigations to know that.

She's used to watching to see who's watching. Sometimes, that's the best way to find the people she needs to be investigating.

The large man would draw attention anyway, but the way he's watching is what's got Agent Learmont's particular interest.

So at one point in her mingling and observing, she finishes making a note on her PADD and goes over to the man.

He's very handsome, but that's not the compelling thing about him. She's not certain just what is.

"Good evening," she says, politely.

"What the hell?"

The Vice Admiral's voice barked out across the lounge in the lull after the explosion, and then he was striding over towards where Agatha was sitting and the remains of what smelled like an apple had spattered the floor and the people.

Innocent bystanders were reaching up to wipe smears of suddenly pureed fruit from themselves, and Vice Admiral Tyrrell homed in on the blonde-haired girl at the centre of the mess.

"Who the hell are you?"

She may have been watching Coates, but it was Vice Admiral Tyrrell who approached Kaylin's table, frowning as he did so. Coates was subtle, and Tyrrell had heard only good things about him when they'd been assigned to work together, but Intelligence had wanted his work to be as unobtrusive as possible.

Which meant that the Admiral approached the woman who seemed to be so intently watching the Lieutenant Commander.

"Hello," he said, a little curtly, but not impolitely.

"Hello, there."

Lt Cdr Coates hadn't seemed to be anywhere in particular until suddenly there he was. It was a skill of his. He'd always been good at it, and he'd developed the skill over his time with intelligence.

Sometimes, seeming not to be somewhere, seeming not to be interested, not to be watching, were the best ways to investigate.

Besides, the girl was young and unaccompanied and if, perhaps, not likely to be an immediate threat to Starfleet, a few kind words couldn't hurt.

"You mind if I join you?"

This man is dressed in something that's clearly a uniform, though it's one completely unfamiliar to Lieutenant Commander Coates. Still, the uniform attracts his attention. It suggests some sort of authority or organisation in his own world that this particular man is a part of.

And indicates that he's one of the displaced guests.

"Something wrong with your food?" Coates asks as he wanders over to the man.

"I just came on board," he says, smiling at her. "Donovan Coates."

He takes her offered hand, still smiling, and shakes, his grip firm without being hard.

(There's no point in pretending he's not one of the reps who just came on board, after all, given how many people would have seen him walk in with them. The fact that he's currently investigating for Starfleet Intelligence? That, nobody in this room but the Captain needs to know right now.)

"Are you one of the Enterprise's guests?"

She realizes that her sneaking was less than effective when he says he just came aboard. Oh well. It was okay not to be stealthy anymore.

She shakes his hand, even more curious about the man in front of her. "I wouldn't say guest. More like unintentional prisoner. I suppose you've never been in that position." Anyone who had would probably sound a little more sympathetic than curious.

Agent Learmont's eyes narrow, and her British accent sounds clipped as she speaks again.

"I'm sorry?"

She takes another few steps closer, watching the man with sharp eyes. That level of amusement when she appears suggests someone who has no regard for the preservation of history and timelines, or for the work of the DTI.

He may, of course, not know that's what she is.

"What are you talking about?"

There is always the possibility for someone in Starfleet Intelligence to wind up as a prisoner. A possibility, but fortunately, one that Commander Coates has never experienced, and his relief at that shows in his expression.

"No, not personally."

He has, in his time, had to debrief people of whom the same could not be said.

"That's how you think of it, though? As being a prisoner?" He gestures around him. "The Enterprise is a fine ship, with the best Starfleet has to offer aboard."

He's curious; Starfleet Command had sent them with the information that security had been incredibly lax around this whole affair, and he'd like to hear more from the guests' perspective.

"You wouldn't want me to say. You guys HATE it when people fuck around with the timeline. And you'd just shake your finger at me and do all frowny faces. It's the paperwork, you know?" Alec's grin is huge. He's still on the floor, flat on his back, staring up at her too.

"How's Dulmur and Lucsly? Get a sense of humor yet? I'm sure they're going to be tribbling... in anger later."

Oh. He knows EXACTLY what she is.

Which is why its even more funny.

And now he's making bad puns about events that haven't even happened yet.

Elizabeth was too used to being a prisoner. It was a habit of thought she often had trouble shaking. It's no pleasure to have an experience the man (officer?) in front of her didn't have. "Oh, she's a fine ship, Mr. Coates. She reminds me too much of some rather unpleasant places, but that's no fault of her or her crew. I prefer to have a good quantity of open air around me." She still missed the gorgeous sunrises she saw in Columbia. Even in confinement there was beauty.

"The holodeck is fun, though." She smiles again, much more interested in discussing the fantastic technology all around her.

"Hello, son," he greets with a smile. "Nothing, son, I'm sure it's lovely."

Trever notices the innocuous man and watches as he slips among the crowd. You don't walk in with people looking like the Vice Admiral and the Captain and not be someone important or interesting. Especially when they work so hard to be innocuous and average looking. His Uncle Rory is really good doing that sort of thing. He managed to kill a guy once in a bar with a peanut and was so completely innocuous that no one even remembered he'd been around afterward.

After a few minutes of studying him, watching who he talked to, Trever left Veena sleeping on a chair and slipped into the crowd himself. He waited until the man had a quiet pause before coming up next to him, "So. Who are you in relationship to the guys in uniform?" he asked. "I'm thinking that you're doing the undercover, being friendly and making friends so people will tell you things that they might not tell your friends?"

She blinked owlishly behind her apple covered glasses. She pulled them off and wiped them on the edge of her skit, which only served to smear the sauce around before she put them back on. She had long since gotten used to looking out of dirty glasses.

"Agatha," she said, before turning back to what remained of her invention. "Hand me a three quarter wrench, will you?" she asked, trying to figure out what could be salvaged.

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[Ten Forward:] Arrival of Starfleet Brass

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(DTI guy would be lovely, but... )

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Have a Thor!

Boom

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OH LOOK have an Agent Learmont of DTI

Hurrah!

Agent Learmont, DTI

You get the Vice Admiral because he wouldn't let the others get a word in XD

Vice Admiral Tyrrell

Lieutenant Commander Coates, Starfleet Intelligence

Lieutenant Commander Coates, Starfleet Intelligence

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>:[ paperwork

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:D :D :D

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Re: You get the Vice Admiral because he wouldn't let the others get a word in XD