Chow

Posted on Mon Jan 10th, 2011 @ 2:34pm by 1st Lieutenant Mike North & Captain Nathan Cowell MD

Mission: Hippocratic Hijacking
Location: USS Arizone, Mess Deck
Timeline: The evening after 'Getting Underway'

Mike North, still in civvies, made his way into the mess deck, his eyes scanning around the scattered crew as he made his way to the replicator. He ordered a simple salad, some bread, broth and water, and took a seat by himself; one with his back in a corner and facing the door.

Captain Cowell didn't often take his meals in his Ready Room, and this was no exception. He had been busy most of the day, unbeknown to most of the crew as his attitude did little to inspire confidence in his work ethic. As he walked into the lounge, he seemed to be followed by some dark cloud, his face dark and his mood dower. He grabbed a steak and a potato out of the replicator, opting for a water to go with it before taking a seat near the small window near the back of the compartment.

North watched the man enter, pick out his food, and take a seat within earshot of him.

"Cap'n." he said with a nod of acknowledgment as he noticed the man's rank before he returned to munching on a slice of bread he'd dipped in broth.

Nathan looked over to his side and frowned, "Since when did they let some scruffy looking bum on my boat? Don't you have a street corner you can stand on and panhandle for your food?"

"I figured the corner right outside the bridge would work just fine. I could probably collect as much intel there as anywhere else on the ship. Except maybe here. Someone outta give the crew an OpSec briefing."

"Someone should give you a bath," Nathan countered, "I can smell you from here, and I'm 600 years old... sense aren't what they used to be. And what's this OpSec crap, you afraid we have spies already?"

Mike shrugged.

"Shouldn't we always be? We might not be specifically at war with anyone right now, but that doesn't mean that nobody's out there gathering intel on us. I been here about fifteen minutes and I've already managed to figure out where we're going, when we're leaving, what we're doing, and which of the enlisted in engineering is sleeping with an officer."

Mike paused for a minute to take a bite of his salad.

"You know loose lips sink ships and all that."

"Damn Navy and their shitty slogans..." Cowell said, remembering a poster he'd seen coming home on leave once during WWII, "And unless you're in the Intelligence department, Mister Bum, I don't know that it's any of your concern who's screwing who. Though I can almost guess as to who it is if I tried hard enough."

"I am actually. Mike North, the ship's infiltration guy," he said, reaching over the table to hold out his hand.

"Good for you," Nathan said dismissively, "Then it's your mission in life to make people aware of their failing in OpSec, how's that grab you Mister Bum?"

"Fair enough. I'll start on a briefing when I get back to the office."

"And for crying out loud... put on a uniform... even fatigues would be better than your deep bum cover outfit... And bathe, that's a damn order," Nathan said, his nose still wrinkled up slightly.

"Rog. I'll get right on that. As soon as I finish my bland meal."

"You're the one that picked it," Doc Cowell said, returning his attention to his steak, which was far from bland.

"Well, meals were a bit underwhelming until recently. Anything more and it doesn't stay in. I'll work back up to it. I'll be eating corn-beef hash and ice tea in no time."

"You do that..." Nathan said, deciding the two of them had reached the logical conclusion of their interaction. This meant, above all, that Nathan stopped paying him any mind, a skill not easily mastered by an El-Aurian, but one that Nathan was remarkably good at despite his nature...