Veni, Vidi, Vino

Posted on 23 Jun 2024 @ 8:39pm by Chief Petty Officer Katja Becker & Chief Petty Officer Lysander Octavio
Edited on on 15 Jul 2024 @ 7:08pm

5,556 words; about a 28 minute read

Mission: Episode 19 - Tomorrow's Galileo
Location: USS Galileo-A - Deck 3, Auxiliary Cargo Bay
Timeline: MD05 - 2150hrs

[ON]

It hadn't taken particularly long to find where his currently misappropriated wine was being stored. Lysander was a man of many talents afterall.

It had been a simple matter of checking through the ships manifest, in a highly routine manner, to ensure that any potentially dangerous or volitile goods remained secure given the ships low power status.

He noted that his crate of wine was, indeed, exceptionally secure. The ships situation was a mixed blessing, really. Any attempt to... liberate a few bottles from his fine collection would no doubt be hidden from sensors at the current time. Power wouldn't likely be directed to anything so pedestrian as monitoring the cargo.

But it presented other issues - namely that the auxiliary cargo bay was essentially dead bolted shut. No power to the doors, and no life support inside. Potentially dangerous indeed.

He paused for a moment to consider if it was truly worth it. A professional risk? A potentially dangerous, nay, deadly heist? Hmm... Then the thought of a crisp Risian Claret passing over his tongue danced across his mind. It was all the incentive he needed.

And he'd be there with the mono-legged doctor. She was a curiousity as well. A fellow appreciator of finer things... or at least their narcotic aspects.

After establishing the location of his unfairly confiscated collection, he had sent a discrete message down to sickbay for the eyes of Chief Becker. In principle she would meet him outside the cargo bay imminently.

The walk up through Deck 3 was almost uneventful, what with a skeleton crew being on duty in as the hour grew late. He did walk past a skulking green Romulan on his way, who was staring around erratically whilst also attempting not to make eye contact. Those green skinned types were always up to something, but given the important mission he had it was better not to get involved...

Moments later he found himself in the deserted corridor by the Auxiliary Cargo Bay. Chief One-Leg had yet to materialise, so he had little to do for the time being but try to fix his hair.

Katja was awoken by the obnoxious chirping of her comm device. She quickly oozed out of her bunch to turn off the sound so that it didn't disturb the others in her shared quarters. She felt jittery and tremulous, having not gone into her 'emergency rations' before going to bed.

The concerning symptoms was a pretty big clue that perhaps she has been hitting the festive beverages a little too hard lately. She could go to sickbay to get assistance, but that would go into her medical file...and how many chances did one get before the GREAT Starfleet cottoned on and cut her loose?

Nein. There was nothing left to do but to manage this herself.

Opening up her comm screen, Katja was...surprised to find a message from Octavio Lysander. Mein Gott, he was really being serious with her!

She all but tripped over herself to get her boots on and threw on an additional pull-over to keep herself warm before rushing to the Auxiliary Cargo Bay.

By the time she got there, she was second-guessing her rushing strategy. Damn, but she was a little de-conditioned...but there had been a lot of ladders, in her defense!

"Tut mir leid!" She apologized as soon as she saw Lysander. "I...I was kind of asleep. So...what's the plan, then?"

Lysander grinned broadly at her, his teeth still managing to sparkle in the dim red light. "Why rest when we can be lulled into sweet serenity by the warm caress of wine?" His melodic laugh filled the corridor for several moments.

"All may end tomorrow so I thought, why not seize the night and liberate what is rightfully mine." He gave her an intense look, his grin still fixed and obviously very charming. For some reason his mind had become more and more interested in the now. What did anything really matter given how easily time could be changed. Perhaps tomorrow would be twenty years ago? Or ten years in the future? Would he really care if he'd been able to enjoy a delicate wine? He doubted it!

An odd silence fell as he had these thoughts.

"So yes," he finally shattered the awkward peace that had fallen, "Its in here. No life support. Door is unpowered... I thought we could do a bit of, you know, ingenuity? Or... winging it!" He smiled again.

"Well it won't be a vacuum in there, and there should be some residual oxygen from when life support was on. So we'll have to be fast." She looked at the sealed doors and frowned for a moment. "Isn't there a manual override on the door to get it to open?"

Katja's eyes gleamed with excitement. This reminded her of the liberation of supplies on Toros III. Now that was a Romulan led mission, but the feast they all enjoyed afterwards with the freed food and drinks put them all in high moods for days. This was a team-building, morale boosting operation. Why, it was almost logical!

Lysander didn't need to be an empath to sense the Chief's elation. And it was rather contagious. This was all so... easy? She was eager and willing, he had never been more 'in' the moment and the corridor was deserted. He was not a believer in gods, but it felt like some sort of perfect fate. Maybe this timeline was the real deal...

All of this excited thought led to another oddly long pause, with Lysander standing, swaying a little, with a massive grin.

Once he had digested this undoubtedly profound point in history, he locked eyes with Katja again. "I think the door will open, yes, yes. Though its always harder if the air pressure is different on the other side." He gave a thoughtful sort of look, "Lets just... why don't we... shall we just open it and... work it out from there?"

This seemed like such a bad idea, and yet, Lysander's enthusiasm was quite contagious. Aw hell, why not.

Katja nodded, and pulled out a flat case from a pocket and clicked it open. Inside were smaller versions of common tools. "You're lucky you found me, yes? I grew up on a starship...bypassing hatches was a rite of passage." She winked at him and walked over to touchpad on the wall next to the doorway and pried it off, exposing the guts of the door controls.

She pulled out a couple of small tools and set to work. A couple of zapping sounds were heard, and Katja jerked her hand back, and flapped it wildly to dissipate the pain from the electrical jolt, "Quatsch!" She cursed angrily before returning to her task.

A rather solid sounding 'chunk' was heard as the locks disengaged. "Ok, the locks are down so the door should open now...regarding differences in pressure...well...live in the moment, yes?"

Lysander nodded eagerly, enjoying the affirmation of his current thought process. "No alarms in low power mode," he winked, "Not even for a sudden pressure change. Its only set up to alert for hull breaches." He laughed unnaturally for several moments, then turned to the door.

"We slide this door open, rush in, find the crate then fill this..." He grabbed a designer kitbag that he'd brought from his quarters earlier. "Perfect, perfect, perfect!"

Katja looked thoughtful. "Hell, why not. I've heard worse battle plans." She pressed the button on the touch padd that was still dangling from the intact connections to the circuitry that powered the door. It chirped in compliance and the double doors opened the air around them got sucked into the cold, stale space for a few seconds before equalizing.

"After you Octavio. Lead on!"

Lysander almost skipped inside the cargo bag. This was so easy! It almost made the cold worth it. No alarms. No sensors. He made his way into the bay with an air of glee about him.

The red lights cast a slightly eerie glow on the neatly stacked boxes and barrels in the room. If one was prone to a nervous disposition they might have appeared to be a little... spooky. But Lysander Octavio was notoriously brave, particularly right now. His fine vintages were calling!

His box was obviously the most beautiful in the room. A stunning darkwood chest with silver trim, and the name 'Octavio' embossed in gold on the side. He stopped to take it in. It was so close. He'd have opened it right away if it weren't for the other crates stacked on top of it.

"How tedious..." He murmured as Katja joined him.

Katja found the crate that Lysander had honed in on, but upon seeing it she couldn't help but chuckle. Her breath came out in a frosty mist as she took in the gold trimmed lettering that spelled out his first name. Then she saw the other crates stacked on top of it and sighed. Was nothing in this damned universe ever easy?

"Nothing else to be done. We'll have to get one of the lifts to get the other crates off."

"A lift...?" The thought hadn't occurred to him. It was so... slow. The wine was singing his name, he could almost hear the gentle wash of it into a glass...

"Perhaps this," he drew a knife from his ankle holster, and sliced through the long ratchet straps that held the cargo in place, "will be quicker." He then shoved the offending boxes hard, causing the four or five crates to teeter then tumble off the pile, loudly smashing to the floor and liberating his box.

Eyes widening, Katja watched Lysander's actions as if she was watching a slow moving train wreck. The man was downright reckless! It was so...in the moment, and strangely invigorating to watch. "Ach. Well, sure. Much quicker!" Making her way over to his side, Katja looked down at the now cleared crate, and felt a surge of adrenaline...she could almost taste the victory on her tongue. "Well? What are you waiting for? Open your box, already!" It was said in a boisterous voice, full of anticipation and the high of the moment.

There was an odd... beauty in the scene. Toppled crates, chaos, surrounding his beautiful box. His cognomen emblazoned at the centre, promoting the only sane path forward.

Lysander looked to Katja and grinned, then leapt forward and began the various machinations to open the box. He tapped out a short rhythm, a Betazoid folk tune, on the side, which caused a small panel to flip open where he input a long string of numbers. A light flashed green.

"If we were to open it now we would be presented with a few bottles laced with something... unpleasant, shall we say." He winked at her, then did a small flourish with both hands before pressing down on the centre of both of the O's in Octavio.

The box then came to life, dissecting itself in a highly intricate manner. The sides shifted, the top opened, and racks of bottles emerged, rotating to present themselves to the pair.

His grin widened and he wiggled his fingers before beginning to select bottles.

"Let's see, let's see..." He selected a cobalt blue bottle, "Andorian Chardonnay." He nodded as he placed it into the bag before picking up a bottle that seemed to shift in colours with shadow and light, "Mood Indigo, from my father's vineyard back home." It too went into the bag, "Ahh Risian Sun Gold. A beautiful claret," the ruby bottle seemed to radiate a little right in the dim surrounds as it was put carefully into the bag.

He looked to Katja, "Something from Earth perhaps?" He grinned then pulled out a somewhat austere bottle, "Chateau Picard... Perhaps we can channel the old man in such dire times." A thrill of his lyrical laughter filled the cargo bay.

"Heilige Scheiße!" Katja exclaimed before dissolving into giggles at just how ludicrous this was. Life was a helluva thing! "Chateau Picard?! Wow, Octavio...that's like the holy grail of bottles in Starfleet. How the hell did you get ahold of that?" She asked in wonder stepping forward just to take a look a the thing.

Lysander handed the bottle to her and continued to carefully place more wine into the bag. It had a parchment coloured label, with a slightly cursive font and a simple depiction of the vineyard.

"Perhaps it would surprise you to learn that the Admirals of Starfleet Command spend a lot of time travelling to... appealing destinations," he looked over to her and grinned, "or perhaps not." He laughed a little, giddy from the adventure so far. "When I was posted with Starfleet Command they took a very important trip to the Earth city of Paris, to eat and drink and enjoy it's leisure. I took the chance to slip away and visit the most famous vineyard in Starfleet."

He placed a final bottle into the bag. "The man himself wasn't there obviously, but an obliging young lady furnished me with a couple of bottles and a tour."

Her had dropped so she could study the bottle in her hands. She ran the roughened pads of her fingers lightly over the label as she listened to his story. "Why would you have ever left? It sounds like...It sounds nice."

What Octavio had described was a whole life not taken! Smiling softly, Katja raised her head and presented the bottle back to him. "Thanks for letting me take a look at it. I thought you'd just have some back alley 'grog.' This is legitimate, Octavio."

Lysander zipped up the bag and tapped the side of the box to activate its closing mechanism. "Oh it is only a trifle. I've been collecting all of this for years. Keep hold of it and we will have a taste when we're somewhere more... secure." He hefted the bag onto his shoulder and nodded his head to the door.

"As for why I left..." Why had he left? Boredom? Listlessness? He had some kind of mental fog that made it hard to remember. Best just to make up something legitimate sounding. "Adventure. It's too safe on Earth - I have always admired the swashbuckling nature of Starfleet on the borders of the Federation. Thought I'd try it out." He laughed a little as he made his way to the door.

She tucked the bottle into the crook of her elbow and listened to what she considered a rather naive response. "Adventure, eh? Well, how are you liking that then, Petty Officer? Join Starfleet; travel to exotic, distant worlds; meet exciting, unusual beings and then try not to die. What's not adventurous about that?"

"No one told me that the destination would be the future," he responded lightly, "and that there would be a war on." He gave another little laugh as they reached the cargo bay doors.

"What does it matter anyway - we could be gone tomorrow. All that matters is now." He winked then pointed at the Chateau Picard, "Speaking of, lets find somewhere private to open that up."

"Absolutely!" Katja replied with a boisterous laugh, "You had me at breaking and entering, Octavio. You're so viel Spaß! We're gonna end up at captain's mast for this if we get caught."

He joined her laughing in the empty corridor, "What she doesn't know won't hurt her," he winked again, "Lets go to my quarters - my glasses weren't confiscated when I arrived at least."

He took off at a brisk pace, heading for the Jeffries Tube that connected the decks. As he walked he glanced at Katja, still smiling. "What's the language you use sometimes? Veel spasss? I've never heard it before."

She climbed behind him, keeping her eyes on the heels of his boots in order to gauge the pace. "Oh, ja. It's Deutsche...er...German. A language from Earth. We didn't speak a lot of Federation Standard on the ship I grew up on. I don't code switch the best sometimes. Meanwhile, you sound quite...what is it, posh?"

Lysander made a sound of acknowledgment, "It is a funny thing, these other 'languages'. Did you know that before my people launched themselves to the starts not a single word of Betzed had ever been spoken? It was only ever written." He smiled, always appreciating this particular piece of trivia about his kind.

"The villages, towns and cities of Betazed stood in silence as we communicated using only our minds." He used his free hand to tap his forehead, glancing at Katja, "It was unifying, in a fashion. I suppose all of those different Earth langauges just drove people apart..."

The thought of sipping some fine wine was driving him forward, but he did his best to slow his pace for his one-legged partner in crime. "As for... posh, well, I suppose I was afforded certain privilege indeed. My family are of one of the noble houses of Rixx, and even in this enlightened era that led to a measure of comfort that many did not possess." He ran the fingers of his free hand through his hair. "I like to think I have done what I can to be deserving, though."

He sniffed - the air suddenly felt colder. "The Dominion invasion, as it was, brought us low. But I was able to lead the vanguard as the planet was liberated. Everyone plays their part I suppose..."

Led the vanguard? Katja smirked. Octavio was apparently one of those 'glory chasers'. She had met a few in her career...however, she chased sensation to feel alive, so who was she to judge?

However, that thought was fleeting as there was far more interesting things to unpack in his reply to her. "Oh yeah, telepathy. That's got to be a useful perception to have. I can barely keep my own thoughts straight half the time. How are you holding up being around...well..us? Oh, and how do you not accidentally get too much information from other people?"

"It is innate I suppose," he lowered the bag as they reached the hatch that would let them clamber between decks, "When one is not raised around speaking types it can become a cacophony in the mind. It takes some getting used to. But after a time you learn to control it, and to rely on your mouth to communicate."

He grabbed the ladder with one hand, keeping the bag secure in the other, "Once you master that you can get very... refined with your telepathy. You can almost taste emotions in the air." He looked back at Katja with a wry smile, "The anticipation of a sip of wine is most palpable, hm?"

"An interesting perception to have, Octavio. And why not anticipate such a thing? Find what you love and let it kill you." Katja chuckled at the recitation of her favorite quote. It was used to justify a lot of sketch AF behavior on her part.

"Oh there is nothing wrong in it!" Lysander replied with a chuckle as he climbed the ladder, "I like that attitude... though we can only hope it is a slow death." He laughed again. Perhaps they would die tomorrow? The thought lingered in his mind.

What sense was there thinking of the future or the past. The future which was in the past... It was all so... tedious. The weight of the wine bag in his hand reminded him that the now was all that really mattered, and the now in a few minutes would be so... refreshing!

"That's the plan. Every day forward is one day less." Lysander was a slightly manic sort of character. It wasn't a judgement...more of something to keep an eye on, surely, right?

Katja continued the rest of the climb in a comfortable silence on her part, and was more than happy to finally get out of the Jeffries tubes when the duo reached the floor that Lysander's quarters were located on.

Lysander poked his head out of the hatch and dramatically looked each way to ensure the coast was clear, before pulling the bag of bottles into the corridor. His place was at the end of this hall, so he gave Katja a small smile and then took off briskly in its direction.

Upon arrival the door slid open and he swept inside. He had ignominiously been forced to share the quarters with two others. Both were out for... different reasons. Fionn was on shift and never seemed to be around much and Hollenday... well... he was 'moved out' in all respects.

There was a notable absence of a coffee table in the shared communal space. Lysander smiled as he remembered smashing the thing apart. It had led to him meeting Katja at a fortuitous time and enacting this excellent plan.

"Welcome to my small slice of the Galileo, Chief." He chuckled as he placed the bag down and retrieved two fine looking glasses from a box in the kitchenette. Holding them up, he winked at Katja, "Serenity Stemware. Crystal, from Betazed. They truly provide a certain... enhancement to any wine contained within."

Katja looked about with mild curiosity. "Why, Petty Officer, I have a place just like this...what are the odds?" Watching him gather the two glasses, and explain the vessels' provenance, Katja listened but wasn't sure how exactly she should react to this information. "Ah...they're very lovely." She said with slight hesitancy.

He beamed at her and placed the glasses on the small side table, then walked over to her. "May I?" He took the Chateau Picard and a bottle opener appeared in his hand. He expertly trimmed the foil around the top with the short blade, then screwed the metal coil into the top. "You know they use something called 'cork' to plug bottles at Picard's vineyard? It's like a sort of Earth-bark. It helps the wine 'breathe' or so they claim." He pulled the cork out with a satisfying 'pop'.

"Normally I would let it sit to air but," he breathed out a misty breath, "it is so cold I fear it would be ruined entirely." He dipped the bottle and poured a small amount into a glass, "You may have the honour of tasting first." He gave her an expectant look.

Oh, the anticipation! The garnet colored liquid swirled in the fine crystal glass...such delightful temptation. "Ah hell, you only live once." She took an experimental sip, allowing the wine to move about her tongue before swallowing. To do anything less would be sacrilege...this wasn't some gutter swill.

Eyes widened at the smooth, elegant flavor - perfectly balanced danced along her taste buds. "It's...quite good, Octavio." She replied lamely. No doubt he would know the correct verbiage to use to describe the wine's flavor profile. She had used the word 'good.' Katja was a semi-domesticated heathen that would have drank the wine from the bottle, but he didn't need to know that.

She took another small sip of it and closed her eyes to focus on the taste. This was quite a special thing; and she wasn't a fool.

Lysander nodded approvingly. He had feared she might be a philistine but as eager as she was for the drink, he sensed a sincere appreciation within her.

He poured a little into his glass and raised it to his nose, inhaling deeply. It was complex... northern hemisphere fruits, possibly berries. The tree they made the barrels from... oak was it? Spices too - certainly that flower they prized... Vanilla. Then deeper... earthiness. Tobacco, leather. Was that just a touch of minerality? It was a rich and inviting bouquet.

Part of his mind sighed in relief. This truly was the now, each particle of this liquid could be appreciated. Aged an extra... oh that was good. He should share that one. "Aged an extra twenty five years," he said with a laugh and a wink as he lowered the glass.

Now to taste. He sipped the wine and closed his eyes. First the palate... yes. Full bodied as one would expect. Balanced. There were those things he had smelt moments before - the dark fruits, the spice and the hints of complexity beyond. Now the tannins... Firm. Well-integrated. Smooth. Very smooth.

He lowered the glass again. The finale was a pleasant, echoing aftertaste. Lingering flavour.

He smacked his lips, "It is a wonder Picard bothered with the back of beyond when he had such beauty on his doorstep. A fine vintner indeed." He proffered the bottle, "Should we have a proper glass?"

"Yes, please. I thought you would never offer." Katja said with amusement as she reached out with the wine glass for Octavio to fill. "Picard definitely had a fall-back plan...me? If this whole Starfleet gig doesn't work out...I sure as hell don't have a familial estate to fall back on."

Lysander obliged, generously filling the glass, then repeated the motion with his own. "Oh? I thought you humans had that whole 'enlightened society' thing going on. Are you not able to simply... get land or a ship or funds that you desire once you complete your service?" He asked as he sipped his wine thoughtfully.

"I wouldn't know. I didn't grow up on Earth...I grew up on a transport freighter that frequented some pretty questionable locales. Not much 'enlightenment' going on out in the fridges of Federation space, I'm afraid...and you have no idea about the cost of anything, do you?" Katja took a sip...well maybe a little more than a sip if she were honest, but it wasn't a gulp. Definitely not a gulp.

"Well I've had my share of run ins with Ferangi and the like. Lots of negotiation there I will say," he tasted the wine again, savouring every part of it, "But I will concede that I have not got the best understanding of the finer details of the costs of... you know... the minutiae."

He inhaler the scent of the wine again, "I have not heard that the land of plenty does not extend to the fringes of the Federation - where abouts have you been?"

"We mainly moved through the Orion, Omega, and Archanis sectors. Occasionally we'd travel into the Andorian sector for off-loading manufacturing supplies but for the most part we stayed towards the edge of Federation space. I've been to more Klingon and Romulan managed stations than I care to count. I'd never seen Earth before joining Starfleet...it was hell to be planet bound for the first few weeks. I felt like I was going to fall off the surface." She laughed at the memory, but it had not been a fun time. All of the hangover without the party. She tipped the glass back and drained some more of the garnet colored liquid. A diffuse lassitude began to creep through her veins. Oh...blessed relief. She could feel the fine tremors begin to ease.

"I'm no good for anything else other than Starfleet now...I've been institutionalized. I would imagine you have had fine adventures in your life, Octavio of the fine wine and crystal stemware."

Lysander straightened up a little, giving her a winning smile. This was a favourite topic of his.

"Well I always had hoped for a quiet life working for my family on Betazed, you know, but adventure found me so often that I decided to lean into it." He raised his glass to her and took another sip. Delightful. "I've been around Federation space, even beyond it, in my time. Seen lots of exotic locales, met fascinating and, admittedly, highly dangerous people. I never truly know what will come next but I seem to be a magnet for dramatic situations."

He gave a theatrical sigh, "And here were are in 2417, what should be a great adventure but, well, it's just... well you know, quite boring." He laughed a little.

"Boring?!" Katja exclaimed. "We were attacked by two Romulan ships and barely made it out with our tender bits intact and you think that's boring? Mein Gott, I would hate to see what you consider excitement, Octavio." With that declaration she downed the remainders of her glass. She had to be prepared to be 'kicked out' at any moment...one took what one could in uncertain times.

"Well you know it was sort of exciting in a very existential sort of manner," he finished his own glass, inspecting the dregs in the starlight, "But its all a bit high-minded here in the future. What really matters? Is this even all real? Lots for the brainboxes to be getting up to but its all nonsense really. Best just to live in the moment."

He smile and lifted the bottle, "Care for another?"

"Absolutely." Katja readily replied as she extended out the glass to be refilled, but she looked at Octavio in a scrutinizing manner. Was it even all real? That was a rather specific thing to say, wasn't it? "Are you...ok, Octavio? Questioning orders I get, but I usually don't question my reality, for the most part. I mean, with excessive amounts of Klingon blood wine, no holds are barred...but..."

Lysander poured more wine into her glass and topped up his own. "I am as lucid and 'ok' as they come, Chief," his tone remained cheerful, "Think of it this way... tomorrow comes, one of two things happen: we die, thus today is immaterial to us. It ceases to be. It is a figment of a figment. Or..." He sipped his wine and gave a highly philosophical look, "...Or we go back in time. Maybe it's even to our original timeline, but who is to know? Not us I doubt. Regardless - any change we make there causes this moment and the whole time we have been here to disappear. It will become a memory and even then we will likely forget because the science of it all is so... tedious."

He raised his glass, "Much better to disregard reality and embrace the moment!"

Katja regarded Octavio for a moment as she took another sip of the wine. It was a rather unique POV, really. Certainly better than her modus operandi of going into things feeling like she was already dead so what was there to lose, really? A fine state of mind during wartime, but it had been a bitch of a thing to turn off once the dust settled.

"I'm all for embracing the moment...I'm even more for embracing this wine glass!" She replied with a slight smirk as she saluted him with the glass.

Lysander's lyrical laugh filled the quarters. "That's the spirit!" He took another sip, happy that Katja's concerns seemed to be ebbing away.

He opened his mouth to speak but was beaten to it by a change in lighting. Yellow, then a soft warning signal. He glanced at Katja, "Not... ideal." He rolled his eyes.

"Scheiße!" Katja cursed. "It would seem the universe conspires against us yet again." She looked a the wine sadly, but not one for waste she downed what was left.

"Thanks, Octavio. It was probably the nicest 'outing' I've had in years."

Lysander graciously bowed his head, still maintaining his charming grin even in spite of the significant inconvenience yellow alert was bringing. "It is a fine thing to encounter a... kindred spirit aboard." He gestured to the bag, "I will secret this away and perhaps we can enjoy a different bottle next time."

He delicately picked up the remains of the Chateau Picard, "Take this and enjoy the rest. The bottle perhaps will make a good keepsake... assuming it remains through the whole... reality... undoing the Captain is planning." He laughed beautifully and handed it to her.

Katja took the bottle and smiled warmly as she again looked down at the fabled label. "Oh, I will, rest assured. I'm not going to lie, I'm happy you fought your table. We wouldn't have met otherwise. Just think how diminished our lives would be in this moment, sans wine!" She chuckled and stood.

"Viel Glück...perhaps we'll meet again in the future...the past...whenever."

Lysander tittered at her final statement, and gave her a nod of farewell as she left.

The warmth of alcohol was fine company for the time being - would he be missed if he just stayed here with his glass? An interesting and most pleasant idea, his mind replied appreciatively.

After hiding the bottles in a highly confidential location, he picked up his glass and sat facing the window. The eternity of everything was before him. Each moment was certainly a moment indeed. He sipped the last of his wine and began to daydream of the perfection of imperfection.

[OFF]

--

Chief Petty Officer Katja Becker
Medical Officer
USS Galileo-A
[PNPC for S'Ers-a M'Lyr'Zor]

&

PO1 Lysander Octavio
Security Officer
USS Galileo-A
[PNPC Vala]

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