Hey Bartender!

Posted on Fri Aug 26th, 2016 @ 11:49pm by Aelyn Radt & Colonel Damian Highsmith M.Eng

Mission: Zero Week
Location: Starbase 329
Timeline: Mission Day 3, 0830

"You lost my stock?! How do you lose 3 crates of liquor?!" a tiny half Caitian woman bellowed to the station Quartermaster as they stood outside the Cargo Bays. Aelyn Radt had just been informed that the ship she was to board had finally arrived from the mothball fleetyard and was now beginning the refit; so Aelyn went down to the Cargo Bay to see to it her stock of real liquors would be transferred to the USS Hammersley, but when the Quartermaster went to retrieve the crates, they had somehow gone missing! "Seriously, you had better find it or I'm holding you personally responsible for the cost! And I can promise you, it wasn't cheap," she stated firmly.

Damian was reading a manifest for a cargo container that was supposed to contain several portable generators and moisture processing units that were supposed to go to Molodaria Prime to assist in humanitarian efforts. Only a few days before, an unprecedented series of solar storms and hurricanes that had decimated their infrastructure and crippled their response. Despite the fact that he could have delegated this to an enlisted team but he needed to exert and had decided to take on this particular task himself. Finding his target, Damian was in the middle of counting the moisture units as he heard the exchange. His interest piqued, he walked around a processing unit and stopped to watch a half Caitian woman fume. He could sense a vibration- a telltale sign of telepathic abilities being used nearby. Striding over to her, he tried his best to smile.

"You know, yelling at the him won't help. Commander Gianelli has a tendency to close up when he senses danger, kind of like a turtle. I will say that if you want your booze, then I'd suggest Ktarian Chocolate Puffs or Alderbaran Whiskey. I yelled at him when he lost a shipment of parts a few months ago and he didn't speak to me for weeks- after I gave him a chocolate puff and a fifth of that whiskey, the shipment I needed was found and accounted for 12 hours later."

Looking over the crates, Damian looked to them, then her. "What sort of liquor were you planning on sneaking aboard my ship?" he asked slightly jokingly, searching for a name of this woman who wasn't on his crew manifest.

"How does a person reach the rank of Commander with that kind of reaction to stress?!" Aelyn rebutted, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration. She sent a glare in Gianelli's way. "Seriously, find my crates before the end of the day and there's a whole bottle of Alderbaran whiskey with your name on it waiting for you," she said to the poor, overly stressed Quartermaster. The incentive for a whole bottle of whiskey was enough to light a fire under him and he bolted to go find her stock. Aelyn took a breath to recompose herself then looked to the interloper Marine who had so graciously interrupted the satisfaction of her ranting.

"So, your ship?" Aelyn said as she put the pieces together from his last statement. She hadn't been told that the Hammersley's CO would be a Marine, not like it was a bad thing, but as evident from her rant with the Quartermaster, Aelyn wasn't fond of surprises. "Only the one case is real liquor, and it's to be used sparingly; the rest are really good variants of synthohol, better than the average replicator can create and taste tested to be indistinguishable from the real thing. I'm used to serving just real alcohol in my uncle's bar, but Starfleet rules and regulations... Still, he said I should bring a good selection for special occasions," she explained with a half grin.

Damian had never been en excessive drinker but he knew that alcohol was a useful morale builder when synthohol simply didn't cut it. He recalled a fond memory of when his team had been deprived a liberty call and they raided the general's personal bar while a senior NCO had subdued the general as they made their way out with a small haul of very rare and very expensive hooch. Smiling slightly, he turned to Commander Gianelli. "Bruno, if you find those cases, I'll toss in a bottle of single malt-" Checking his watch, he looked up. "You might want to move quickly, you only have five hours and this an incredibly large station. Allons-y!" he said, the sarcasm dripping from his every word. Gianelli shot him a look of pure venom and walked away in a huff, muttering something about the Starfleet supply system and petty bribes.

Aelyn chuckled softly as she turned, clasping her hands neatly behind her back as she started down the corridor to leave Commander Gianelli to his work. "I apologize if I made a scene, sir; I know a few crates seems trivial, but the contents were expensive, and I take my responsibilities tending to the crew's morale quite seriously. And... well, this is my first time running a lounge by myself, let alone a Starfleet lounge, so I didn't quite know what to expect," Aelyn admitted candidly, her tone conveying the respect she had for his position.

Damian laughed at this. In all honesty, she reminded him of a Marine he once knew- Karen Burdette. She was small but fierce and fiery and during her time as a combat engineer, she was known as the 'Tiny Terror' and no one would have dreamed of messing with her on any day of the week. "Don't worry about it, sometimes Bruno needs a good kick in the ass." Stopping to think for a moment, he raised a finger as an epiphany struck him. "Think you might be able to rustle up a few extra cases of that whiskey, say about ten?" he asked.

"Ten?!" By the Sacred Rings, what did he need ten cases of whiskey for? "Ahhh, real or synth? And is there any particular preference for what kind of whiskey or do you want a variety?" Aelyn asked, trying to acquiesce to his demands. "Depending on what you ask for, it might take a while to get it, but I think I can get it stocked by the time the refit is done."

Looking around for any listeners, Damian whispered. " Surprise me with some of the real stuff, none of that synthesized crap.I know of a few places planetside that sell good single malt but I think the crew would prefer a wider variety. It'll be our little secret" Damian said slyly, winking a little. He knew that he was ducking regulations by requisitioning alcohol but he had a feeling that his crew would appreciate it. Looking down, he eyed the ring on his finger- it was gold with a black stone with an ornate coat of arms inset in the center. Removing it, he handed it over to Aelyn.

"Make a call to a bar called 'The End of the Universe' on Epsilon Eridani and show the owner that ring. It'll get you any supplies you need- that old Bolian owes me big time, so he won't be in a position to say no." Damian smiled at the thought of the rather large and boisterous Bolian who he had nicknamed 'Big Blue'. The man had been a rather capable combat Marine but after nearly 20 years, he had elected to retire and run a bar in an odd corner of the quadrant.

"Wait, you know the owner of 'The End of the Universe'?! My uncle has always said great things about that bar, I've always wanted to go there!" Aelyn said with a wide, excited grin. She took the ring and gave it a quick glance over before carefully placing it in her pocket. "I'll contact him right away so I can get this ring back to you as soon as possible. But if I may ask, sir, why so much? I mean ten cases in addition to the three I already have, that's an awful lot of alcohol for a ship of this size."

Damian smiled a sly smile. "Well, where we're going, we won't exactly have a chance to restock. So I'm keeping as much as I can on hand." he said, checking the supply load status on his PADD. Satisfied, he looked over to Aelyn. "By the way, I never got your name, civvie." he said jokingly.

Aelyn nodded understandingly; she hadn't know that they would be gone THAT long or she would have stocked up accordingly, and it made her wonder if she was truly prepared for this job. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Aelyn Radt. My uncle is the owner of Four Treasures on Deep Space 5, and he hooked me up with this gig. I hope I can serve you well, sir."

Damian extended his hand. "I hope so, Miss Radt. I've been to the Four Treasures and your uncle makes one of the best Slushel Mixes that I've ever had the pleasure of tasting. If he got you here, then I have faith that you'll be able to handle this assignment." Thinking for a moment, Damian spoke again. "Think you can set up a going away dinner for the crew in a day or two?" he asked her.

"A day or two?" Well that wasn't asking much! "I can't promise anything grand on such short notice, but I think I can manage something," Aelyn replied with a dubious nod. "That is assuming the mess hall will be up an running in time."

Damian shrugged. "Well, we leave in three, so I'd get any supplies you need and saddle up." he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Also, you'll be in charge of all food services and morale activities, if you're up to it. So you might want to check on your supply orders." he said, sneaking a look in Commander Gianelli's general direction.

"Those supplies are already in order, it was my personal stash that he had misplaced," Aelyn said with a slight chuckle. She had already been prepared to tend to all the food services as well as morale; it was, after all, what her uncle had done on DS5 and what he had trained her for. "I'll have the lounge ready for dinner in three days then," she added, some ideas rolling around her head of maybe a buffet to keep things simple given the time crunch.

Damian smiled. He was already quite impressed as this civilian had managed to do in less than 2 days, what many officers had failed to do with weeks of preparation. Food was a way to the hearts of many and he would be sure that this woman would do this new ship proud. "Just by the way, if you need people to work the galley, let me know and I'll rustle you up a few crewmen before we leave." Damian said before heading for one of the massive cargo elevators.

"I believe Starfleet has assigned a couple of uniforms as chefs, but I can always use a few extra hands here and there, and of course I'm familiar with the Command Chief sending misbehaving Petty Officers down to my uncle's bar for menial tasks, so I'm well prepared to do the same here," Aelyn said with a fanged grin, cutting a glance at the man as they walked along. She couldn't get a solid read on this man; on the one hand, he seemed rather outgoing at first glance, but she sensed something else... He was a soldier, so clearly there was honor and integrity, but she felt like she was only just tapping the surface of him. "And please, let me know if there's anything you require of me. I'm still new to being in charge, but I'm fairly flexible as these things go, so I'll do what I can to accommodate any special requests."

Reaching the door, Damian turned to her. "Understand that as a Morale Officer, you have a lot of leeway in doing what you need to do. So if you feel like teaching anti-gravity yoga on the holodeck, then be my guest. You're welcome to do whatever the hell you need to do, as long as you don't blow up my ship or hurt any of my crew. Get my drift?" he asked her, his eyebrow raised once more.

Goodness, anti-gravity yoga? He really wasn't holding back, was he! "You know, I bet you would love some anti-gravity yoga; it's very relaxing," Aelyn stated in an amused tone. "But I promise to do my utmost not to blow up your ship, as that wouldn't be very good for business," she added with a mischievous smile.

Damian laughed throatily, his voice echoing off of the bulkheads. "You'd love that, wouldn't you?" he asked jokingly. "But in all seriousness, I wouldn't be caught dead doing yoga if someone had a phaser to my head." he said quickly. "I'm not flexible- at all." he said rather matter of factly before the cargo elevator began slowly moving upward.

"Then shall I take it as a personal challenge to change that?" she replied. "You never know, you just might like it..."

Fighting the urge to chuckle, Damian kept a straight face. "We'll see about that, Miss Radt. We'll see..." he said before he turned on his heel and walked towards the massive exit door. Latching onto a massive cargo mover with one hand, he felt himself being whisked along towards the door, his feet a mere inch off of the deck.

Well look at that, a man who knew how to make an exit. Aelyn chuckled with an amused shake of her head as she watched the cargo mover carry off her Commanding Officer. 'And not in bad form, too,' she thought with just a hint of admiration. At least now she knew this posting wouldn't be boring!