Just Rewards

 Episode Name:  Just Rewards

   Written By:  Fortuane

         Cast:  Albertz, Churas, Claness, Cristobal, Dakin, Donavon, Gellan, Ghorev, 

                Golden, Harris, Idrani, Javits, Kor, Lao, Nolte, Novairen, O'Rielly, 

                Park, Poole, Roxsati, Sarvok, Stewart, Takamura, Toog, Turtledove 

                and Tyler.

  Produced By:  Starfleet

  Directed By:  Fortunae

     Aired On:  Sat Apr 26 02:26:37 2003

     Stardate:  53169.3

Time: Fri Apr 25 21:16:53 2003

Stardate: 53168.8

Donavon smiless a tad. Donavon whispers to Harris, "Formal occassions such as this can be a tad unnerving. But I am happy that you invited me."

Poole whispers to Lao, "I know you're an overly curious man, Peter. We may need to talk about that, after the party."

Lao listens, nods, and then leans over to Poole, whispering back.

GAME: Tyler spends a courage point.

Lao whispers to Poole, "If this is about those naked pictures of Nev on my PADD, I swear, it was Glemm. I had nothing to do with it."

"Of course," Harris replies as he lifts his soup spoon, tossing a wink at his dinner companion. "Don't worry. I'll defend your honor if called to it."

Lao's expression is serious as he pulls back from Poole, nodding grimly.

Churas orders the bear fat soup, looking suspiciously at the choices, as if checking them for vegetable interference. She offers a nod to Cristobal in return for whatever he's said to her, and settles back in her seat, folding her massive hands across her armored midsection. Her eyes flicker from one table to the next, a rather curious expression on her face. Churas whispers to Cristobal, "Speeches before dinner, that, at least, I understand."

As the attendees of the Embassey Party begin to enjoy the soup dishes, the servers move about openning the wine for the first course for each table and pouring a glass for each, the first comes from the H'sung-Cho Winery on the New Athens colony, 2287. A light woody white wine, with a hint of fruit in the aftertaste.

. o O Churas is almost entirely out of her element here, but is bolstered by Cristobal's presence, to say the least. She might not feel comfortable with all these utensils, and food with bits of dead plant in, and such, but she is at least comfortable with /him/.

Tyler, with all the enthusiasm of someone about to be tossed off a cliff, chooses Plomeek soup and begins to dine at her table. She appears very self-conscious of the act, however, making sure every slippery detail of her dining experience is nailed down. She takes small bites between dainty dabs at her mouth with her napkin.

Poole tries. /Really/, really hard, not to laugh. Through sheer force of will, she supresses it into a smirk. A crooked smirk as she forces herself to look down at what little is left of her sorbet. "Humor. A defense mechanism," she says finally, pulling her soup close to her. And, mmm, wine.

Donavon begins to reach for the wine, then quirks a lopsided grin, opting for now not to indugle. Instead, the soup is attended to, sipped at and she savors the taste. Donavon whispers to Harris, "With what old man? Your bare hands?" she teases.

Cristobal arches a brow at Poole and the man who makes Poole look normal. He has another bite of the soup before leaning over to Churas once more. Cristobal whispers to Churas, "Pretty much all the alcohol in the Federation is solely vegetable in origin. No blood. Sorry."

Golden at his table Opens up the wine list and menu provided, standing it up and he points something out. He leaves it standing and open, oddly enough, when Tyler lowers her head to sip her soup she is lost in view behing the engraved in white letters, Federation blue menu.

. o O Cristobal thinks "Ay. I hope they serve some meat dishes before Churas starts gnawing on my neck for protein...which come to think of it might not be such a bad prospect..."

Lao breaks into a grin. "Perhaps. After a year ground-fighting on Betazed, I'll take my defense mechanism over post-traumatic disorder." He takes the wine and sniffs with the suspicion that only a Californian or a Frenchman can aim at such a vintage. It must be acceptable, because he smiles, and digs into the pre-dinner course with as much relish as elegance will allow.

"Of course," Harris replies rather seriously, his 'No... really, that wasn't a joke' face on, although his eyes contain what one would describe as a devilish gleam.

Javits watches while the wine glasses at his table are filled, pausing in the polite consumption of his soup, though perhaps a slurp or two escape.

Claness is completely enjoying his soup, though he looks at the poured glass of wine with a touch of apprehension.

Nolte eats bear fat soup like someone who really likes bear fat soup. Very much trying to keep it in check and be oh-so-polite, but her love of the dish can't be disguised too much.

Turtledove cheerily dips into the bear fat soup. The first taste has her smacking her lips quietly, an indecisive expression on her face.

Park looks over at Turtledove. "It's a little.......different, isn't it?", he says.

Roxsati sips at his soup simply because it is sitting in front of him. He seems happily engrossed in the decor in the restaruant, the crowded dining room and its inhabitants, and the conversation at his table.

Kor regales Laura and Ivalen Kor, a command branch LCDR sitting at the table with them along with his Betazoid, Grazerite and Vulcan aides, with a tale about the summit meeting talks earlier today, then switches to a story about how the Vulcan Ambassador once got his Bear Fat soup and how amazing it was how far a Vulcan could spit said soup when it was possible to reach the Tellarite Ambassador's beard with the spittle...

Gellan finishes her soup and pushes the bowl aside. As she's getting a glass of wine, she suddenly breaks into very amused grin. And chuckles. This is hidden quickly behind her glass of wine.

. o O Javits thinks "Eh?"

Donavon presses her lips together to prevent an interruptive laugh. Eyes slant, smirked as though she can handle her honor yet his serious inflection holds back further comment. Divulging in the soup, the taste lingering pleasantly, she converses lightly. "How many of these formals have you attended?"

Churas, elegant with a dk'tagh in her hand, looks odd, to say the least, with a spoon in the same. She quietly pokes at her soup once, tastes it, and then responds to Cristobal in a like whisper as she sets down her utensil. Churas whispers to Cristobal, "It would seem that most of your food is largely vegetable in origin. I think I will adopt the same strategy you took, Nathan, and largely refrain from eating. You /will/ warn me if there is cheese hidden in any of this?"

. o O Park feels content.

Turtledove gets a slight grin, still smacking her lips quietly, and glances to Park. "That it is."

. o O Harris thinks "Well... at least she didn't laugh. Don't look at Femke, concentrate on Meg. Don't look at Femke, concentrate on Meg..."

. o O Poole thinks "I /saw/ Betazed during the worst of that, ensign. I've seen worse. Much worse.... thousands dead, hanging in trees. Your humor ... is ill-timed." (New BB message (16/13) posted to 'Personal Logs' by Idrani: Personal Log Entry)

Javits glances sidelong at Gellan, his soup lifted midway and mouth slightly open, then looks back to Albertz as the medical officer raises his glass.

Sarvok accepts Plomeek soup and the glass of wine. Of the two, the soup receives far more attention. After each bite of the soup the Vulcan Ensign seems to be studying it; his brows furrow slightly as he works to analyi the subdtle variations inherient in this most Vulcan of dishs. Vulcan's take their Plomeek soup /very/ seriously.

Cristobal has several spoonfuls of his soup, occasionally interspersed with sips of the amber vintage. He nods in response to something Churas says. Cristobal whispers to Churas, "I will. I don't know if this will help, but I could cut myself with the meat knife and bleed into your wine?"

Idrani eats her bear fat soup with delicate ease, accustomed to dining in public view.

Gellan glances back to Javits. "Hmm? Oh." She blushes a bit. "Nothing." Albertz has just proposed a toast, too. She she lifts her glass a bit, and nods to him.

Harris lifts his wine to his lips, taking an experimental sip before allowing the glass to return to its former position on the table. "I haven't been to anything like this in eighty-two years," he replies lightly, all seriousness thrown out the window. "We didn't wear white back then."

Javits sets his spoon back down and takes up his glass as well, raising it with Albertz and Gellan.

Poole purses her lips, the universal sign that she's thinking. Lao's words make her do that. Finally, she just shrugs and tastes a little bit of her soup before halting. Maybe she doesn't like it.

Albertz raises his glass politely to his dinner companions and says something in an incredibly thick accent, probably discernible only to his tablemates. He take a sip of wine and returns to his soup.

Lao turns to Poole, "Not to your taste?" he asks. "I'm sure we could get something else from the tray."

Donavon tries to ease herself into this formal dining, grateful that her dinner mate is light with words. Breath taken, she nods, chuckles quietly, then lifts eyes to smile back. Donavon whispers to Harris, "Let me guess, you wore fushia? A color to boldly go where no eyes have laid before?"

Poole shakes her head and pushes her bowl away from her gently. "No... I think I'll just save room for dinner." She manages a reassuring smile, reaching for her glass of wine.

"/Nathan./" Churas's rumbling growl bears the hallmarks of possibly friendly, and somewhat exasperated, warning, even as she settles back in her chair again and once more folds her hands across her stomach.

Turtledove smiles at her table companions, nodding quietly as she cheerily goes back for another briny spoonful of somewhat smaller size. Her hand closes around her wine glass, meanwhile, preparing to serve as a backup dilutant.

Lao nods, and says brightly, "The wine's good, at least." He pats his stomach. "I don't need to watch my girlish figure. My diet is working wonders!" He grins, and takes a sip of the wine, sighing with appreciation. He digs into his sorbet, his soup long since vanished.

Gellan chuckles again, nodding to Albertz. "Remind me to get you to explain that later," she says lightly, and then sits back to sip at her wine.

"Maroon and gold," Harris replies with a laugh before his eyes slant thoughtfully. "Although, the Caitians wore something close to fuschia for their uniforms." He pauses for a moment, lost in memory... and then shudders. "But that's neither here nor there, I suppose."

Javits raises his glass just a wee bit higher in the toast, his expression one of complete puzzlement over Albertz' speech.

Cristobal grins and shrugs at Churas. He finishes his soup in short order, and goes for the sorbet next. After some time, he asks Churas, "Was your father alright last night? Didn't hurt his hand or anything, did he?"

Albertz takes a couple of spoonfuls of soup before smiling in apology, "Sorry. Odd, I know. It's just...well...sacrilege to take a drink without a proper toast first. Or at the least /very/ bad luck."

Chuckling that any race chose such a hue, Donavon merrily grins before finishing off the remainder of the soup. All the while, she does watch Harris, envisioning with the stare those colors on the uniform. "Wonder why Starfleet steered another direction from the old."

Javits takes a small sip from his glass before setting it down once more, speaking quietly to Gellan at his table.

Golden laughs at something said at his table and finishes up the last of his soup.

Gellan shakes her head at something, shrugging and going after her wine again.

Poole simply takes a sip of her wine, setting it back down as she savors the flavor. "Peter. Are you ever serious?" She asks curiously.

Harris leans back in his seat, pondering that thoughtfully. "I don't know..." he replies softly. "I miss my jacket, to be honest. Jumpsuits are so... not me." He winks.

Churas's eyes roll slowly sidelong in their sockets before she turns a somewhat incredulous glance to Cristobal. "That is a joke." It's a question, but she says it like a statement. "It is not funny, but it is a joke. Yes? My father is fine. We spoke at length after you... " ... stumbled away? "... left. Good things. I will tell you of them later."

Javits shrugs to Gellan as he picks up his wine glass again, taking a long sip as he looks over the edge at Albertz, then lowers it to speak.

Roxsati finishes his soup, leaving the wine to be sipped at a slower pace.

Lao looks over to Poole. "Certainly. When I'm working, or when something needs to be done. At a dinner party? Why would I want to be?" He shrugs. "I like to be happy. What's wrong with that?"

Claness finished his soup long ago, setting the bowl aside. His wine remains untouched as he listens to the conversation at his table.

Turtledove sips her soup and, at intervals, chats amiably with her tablemates.

Donavon snorts in an unladylike fashion, eyes rolling a bit, and levels a stare with Harris. Donavon whispers to Harris, "Can't continue to take steps back, Harris. And I have no complaints about your present dress. I rather find it," she smiles, Donavon whispers to Harris, "alluring."

Poole remains strangely silent, eyes growing distant as she looks off vaguely in the President's direction. Yep, still breathing. Just uber-quiet.

Cristobal nods, "Yes," he says around a mouthful of limey goodness, "It was a joke." He did not stumble...he walked gingerly and slowly. He was well out of sight before he started stumbling. He nods and says, "You might try the sorbet," he says, pointing to her dish with what she undoubtedly sees as a green fungus of some sorts, "Not nearly so sweet as devil's food. Very tart. I've always had a fondness for tart, you may recall." He keeps his face perfectly straight as he finishes the last of his sorbet, washing it down with a sip of wine.

Javits takes another few spoonfuls of his soup, then pushes the bowl forward slightly, looking to his table mates with a grin.

Ivalen Kor rings the bell again, causing another outpouring of the wait staff. The waiters bring out another Sorbet, a Centauran Glasen fruit this time, and as they clear away the soup dishes the next course choices are offered. The choices are between a Maguro Nigiri Sushi from Terra, White Kozal from Tellar, or Burnished Prarg'gol from Regula.

. o O Park feels slight disappointment.

Albertz laughs at something said at his table, takes a last sip of his wine and eyes the next course of dishes with great interest.

Harris lifts his wineglass to take another sip, just eyeing Donavon over the table for a moment. When finally he does speak, it's with a large smile. "Well, thank you..." he replies. "My only response to that is something that I read once..."

Sarvok accepts the fruit but politly declines the fish.

Harris whispers to Donavon, "Did my heart love till now? / Forswear it sight, / For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night."

Javits looks back as the next course is brought out, frowning tentatively before selecting the burnished Prarg'gol.

Lao frowns slightly, and leans in to Poole, asking, Lao whispers to Poole, "Hey. Are you okay?" And, yes, he seems serious.

"But..." Harris notes softly as he takes a serving of Prarg'gol. "My name isn't Romeo."

Golden selects the Tellarite fish dish and almost forgets to try the sorbet before diving into the "steak" with a full gusto.

. o O Idrani thinks "By the gods, now that human is professing love to someone else, less than a week after professing love to Femke... he must be in love with love, or something."

A slow scan of the restuarant is given, a casual yet routine habit of Donavon's. All are safe. Continue eating. Attentions back to Harris, the Ensign scoops the last bit of her sorbet, letting the spoon draw out to savor the flavor or was it that the whisper that startles her. None too quick in response, a comment to return is halted by the arrival of the next course. She points to the white kozal and never allows sights to leave Harris in carefully consideration.

Idrani decides to defer to the wisdom of her adjuctant, choosing the fruit and declining the fish.

Churas lowers her voice and says, very quietly and very carefully, Churas whispers to Cristobal, "Nathan Cristobal, I warned you that if you were making fun of me, I would research it and I would know. Do not say anything to me here that I cannot respond to as I would. I know that there are many meanings to the Federation Standard word 'tart.'" That said, she rather ignores that suspicious-looking sorbet business in favor of /raw meat./ Mmm, Maguro. Now /this/ is a dish after her heart. She watches the other guests for a few long moments before attempting to select the correct fork and cut up pieces of the tasty dead flesh.

Roxsati takes takes the Maguro, eating small bites as he scans the room.

Poole stirs. Nodding once to Lao, she looks to the server for their table, "The Burnished Prarg'gol, thanks." Then more sorbet. Apple-rasberriness.

Park moves onto the next dish, foregoing the sorbet and moving right to the sushi.

Donavon whispers to Harris, ""Do you fore swear your name? Never to be a Capulat?""

Turtledove watches her mostly-full bowl of soup get whisked off, but she quickly regains her cheer when she smells the Burnished Prarg'gol. Fork raised, she anticipates enjoying this intriguing new dish.

Albertz lingers over the new sorbet, delaying his choice until the last possible moment, finally selecting the White Kozal.

Tyler chooses the sushi as well. Terran seafood must not be passed up. This she goes at with a little more zeal than she did the soup.

Lao leans back, still looking at Poole with that serious, curious expression on his face. He glances to the server, and says, "The Kozal, please."

Javits digs into his plate of burnished Prarg'gol with gusto, but manages to contain himself well enough to cut the meat into polite bites before consuming it, nodding his approval at the first bite.

Cristobal just grins. Cristobal whispers to Churas, "My dear Churas I'll happily accept any responses you wish to bestow upon me afterwards." Tortilla soup? Then sushi? It's like being home for Cristobal. He chooses the Maguro and slices off chunks of the meat, combining them with forkfuls of rice. He saves the glasen for after he has finished the fish.

Kor laughs at something said at his table by the Grazerite, then launches into a story about the time he was Cestus III and saw a Gorn outfielder there cause a major controversy by "fielding" a pop fly by catching the ball in his mouth and swallowing it after a few chews. It seems the Gorn insisted it was an automatic reflex to something going into his mouth, but it was suggested he was actually hiding the possible evidence that the pitcher had been "greasing" the ball.

Gellan selects the sorbet, and after a long dubious look at the offerings, the Sushi. She eyes the selections of her table mates and their reactions, and then takes a bite of her own. Her nose wrinkles a bit, and she reaches again for her wine.

Javits looks to Albertz as he politely chews a mouthful of Prarg'gol, swallowing before responding to the medical officer.

. o O Churas's aggravation is growing, but that seems to go hand-in-hand with attraction for the Klingon where Cristobal is concerned. You make me insane! I like it.

Harris lifts his wineglass to his lips, sparkling eyes locking on Donavon's form. "That's one of my favorite plays..." he murmurs.

The Ferengi waiters bring around new bottles of liquor -- setting out small porcelin cups, they set warm bottles on each table of something they identify as Habu Sake... a rice "wine" with a poisonous snake put into the bottle during fermentation -- de-poisoned first of course. To the males they point out that historically the Habu was supposed to give the imbiber great stamina as a lover.

Sarvok raises an eyebrow, "How....interesting."

Lao doesn't make a joke as the sake is served. He's been eating his steak in relative silence, looking over to Poole now and then.

. o O Cristobal feels amusement. Handling teasing is part and parcel of dealing with Cristobal on a social level. Knowing that he /will/ pay for his indiscretions is just part of the fun.

Poole doesn't finish the sorbet in front of her by the time the fish arrives. This she starts cutting up and eating, piece by little piece. The draught the Ferengi bring out this time, she eyes once, but partakes none of.

Idrani peers at the sake. "Hm." She looks at Claness, then back at the sake.

Churas just gives Cristobal a suspicious sort of look, then grunts and shakes her head slightly. There's raw meat to be eaten. Mmm. She eyes the Habu Sake for a long moment, snorts and laughs once, aloud, at the historical information, and declines in what is likely meant to be a polite and good-natured fashion.

Golden laughs at something said by Tyler at their table.

Donavon slices at the presented meaty portion, cutting with vigor. Lips upturn to an embarrassed smile, cheeks flush. "When one lad had sent a few verses, I had to read the rest. why would you say it is a favorite?"

Javits is once again midway through a bite of food, the sorbet this time, when the waiters bring out the new beverage. He gives the bottles a dubious look, his eyes narrowing slightly, before finishing the bite of sorbet and reaching out to take up the mug before him.

Cristobal snorts at the waiter's background information, shaking his head in denial of the story. The waiter takes it as Cristobal declining, to which he says, "Hold up. Didn't say I didn't /want/ some..." Upon finishing the rest of his fish, he eagerly drinks the warm sake.

Novairen orders the white kozal as the wait staff comes around taking orders for the next dish. Her full glass of wine and empty bowl of soup gets whisked away and replaced with the next course. Though she starts in on the fish, the glass of liquor remains untouched.

"It just reminds me of things that happened a long time ago," Harris replies as he begins partaking of his dish, choosing to remain mysterious.

. o O Churas thinks "You'd best hope the effects of that last for a looong time, Nathan, or it will not matter."

. o O Cristobal thinks "Like I need it"

"Ah," expels Donavons lightly, careful not to prod overly so. A tradegy taken as a favorite would encompass bitter sweet memories. "Were you foolish enough to swear upon the blessed moon?" Eyes glitter in raising to meet Harris' look; she reaches to sip at her wine.

Harris just smiles as he sips the sake, eyebrows perking in amusement.

Javits takes a very small sip from his mug, then swallow hard, blinking a few times before taking a slightly larger sip, which causes him to cough a few times. Gingerly, he sets the mug aside, as if handling explosives.

Golden sets his flatware onto his plate crossed, and takes a cup to pout the Sake in. He sniffs it warily then tosses it back letting the burn slide down to his belly after the fish which is no more.

Poole finishes about half the fish set in front of her before she sets down her fork and dabs at her mouth with the provided napkin. "Not bad... how's the Kozal, Peter?"

Result won, Donavon tilts her glass in a slight toast before lips eagerly partake of the fruity wine. The startled blush indicates approval in the drink for she drinks again. "What of his other plays? Are you well versed in them?"

Claness frowns. Darkly. At something said at his table.

Idrani is giggling, eyes sparkling merrily. Presumably at Claness's expense.

"I like to think I am," comes Harris' reply after a few moments of thought. "More tragedies than anything else, but my reading tends to verge on darker subjects." A wry laugh escapes his lips. "But I shouldn't have told you that I read. I'm a flyboy at heart, after all."

Churas finishes off the fish, and ventures a little bit of the rice. A little bit. This little bit is not followed by any more, thankyouverymuch, and she flattens her mouth into a line, snorting and shaking her head slightly as Nathan drinks the sake. The large female settles back in her chair again, going back to crowd-watching.

Lao smiles warmly to Poole. "Excellent. I'm pretty happy with the whole meal, so far." He holds up his sake. "Banzai!" he announces, and then throws it back. "Wow. That's...really, really good."

Tyler doesn't touch whatever is in the cup, sticking instead to a glass of water. She's a cheap date, and doesn't want to make a total barbarian of herself before the Federation President.

Cristobal arches an eyebrow at Churas and says, "Medically, it has no effect on /that/, and I hardly need it at any rate." He refills his small cup nonetheless though.

"I won't drink something that's had a snake in it, thanks," Poole comments softly, reaching for what's left of her wine from earlier.

Poole adds, "I may be crazy, but I'm not stupid."

. o O Cristobal thinks of a dirty joke relating to what Poole just said. It does not get verbalized.

Gellan smirks a bit at Javits. "What, don't like it?" She chuckles and goes back to eating her fish.

. o O Idrani feels fond amusement and a genuine flush of romantic affection for her large Andorian companion.

Donavon swirls the wine in a playful gesture. "And flyboys aren't suppose to be versed in those plays? Often do I find a rise in blood with the tragedies, most for the well spun plots within plots."

Lao chuckles. "Risk is our business, Lieutenant," he says to Poole, quoting a famous saying of Ambassador Spock. He holds up his glass for a refill.

"I would not know," Churas replies in the same tone Cristobal addresses her, without looking away from her crowd-watching. She idly wraps one hand around her opposite wrist, adjusting the bracer portion of that arm's, well, armor with a twist here and a nudge there. It's still somewhat new, after all.

Turtledove, having finished her fish, cheerily sips the habu sake as she talks to the people at her table. Something Tyler has said causes her to chuckle and regard the girl with a conspiring grin. Nodding sagely, she responds quietly, and sips.

Albertz sits down at square table.

Lao sits down at square table.

After most of the room has finished the fish course, The President rings the bell this time. Again the rush of waiters comes out to switch dishes while a smaller group of them wheels out an oversized roasting spit upon which is the cooked carcass of Cairn Ridge Goat -- an aggressive herbivore that grows almost two meters at the shoulder on it's home planet. Cairn is only a recent member of the Federation but already in certain culinary circles the Ridge Goat is becoming popular due to its natural szechwan beef-like flavor and it's high energy caloric value. This beast has obviously been prepared with great care, and is artfully guide sliced. Of course to those who abhor eating meat, this dish is particularly disturbing -- fortunately for such as those the alternate dish is a delicate angel hair and white sauce dish from the culinary schools of Betazed. To accompany the Ridge Goat or pasta is fiery cinnamon brandy, to clear the palatte first a delicate peace ambrosia flavored sorbet.

. o O Churas is amused, and highly so, by Cristobal's protestations, if vaguely frustrated by the reminder that she does not, in fact, /know./

Harris just inclines his head. "I'm not your average flyboy," comes his teasing response. "In time, you too shall learn, grasshopper."

Claness sniffs the air, looking over towards the next course. There's the meat.

"Not stupid risks," counters Poole with a smirk. Yes, she counters the words of Ambassador Spock. And she also waves off the Goat. And the Angel Hair. "No thanks... I'll take that sorbet though, and the brandy."

. o O Cristobal thinks "Oh good. More meat. Churas won't need to gnaw on my neck for protein... Damn..."

Gellan waves off the next course, reluctantly eyeing the pasta. Shame she's already full.

Sarvok tt ;'s raises eyebrow manges a few more millimeters as the large roast beast is wheeled into the room, but he merely turns his attention back to Idrani and nods, "It sounds highly educational. If my duties do not impede me, I shall endeavor to attend."

Lao shakes his head to the brandy, since his sake got refilled, and says to Poole. "Stupid risk? Hrmph. This is -sake-. Manna from heaven!" He nods for some goat. "This stuff is great. Tastes like szechuan beef. Just like Mom used to replicate!" He grins.

Golden gets into a slightly fierce discussion with the waiter to his table when he explains he wants Goat /and/ Pasta and no, not half portions of each.

/HEY,/ now. Churas eyes the large roasted carcass appreciatively and nods her head a little. She raises a fist, and then stops herself before she can pound it on the table. Right. They don't fight at these things, they probably don't pound on the table, either. Grumbling incoherently to herself, she watches the servers as they come around, and notes in a low tone as Poole defers, "I will accept her share of the meat." Growing girls need their carcasses to grow up big and stro... hmm.

Donavon almost melts at espying the pasta, even more so at the brandy. Invigored to dive into the mouthwatering meal, she throws back the brandy with fervor. "Should I realized that when you weddled me into this," she gently scolds. A fork twirls the angel hair about, lifted to lips and devoured politely as possible.

Churas's waiter, is happy to give Poole's portion to Churas, wanting to avoid provoking either female.. hey, with his ears he's definitely heard the stories.

Cristobal nods in agreement with Lao, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to side with Peter on this one, Gwen." He smiles as the goat is wheeled in, and accepts meat and brandy /and/ sorbet. He says, "And I'll have her pasta as well," pointing to the portion of his plate without any goat on it. The Ferengi waiters smile at the assorted displays of gluttony around the room. This means they can charge extra.

Javits sits back a bit as the mostly empty plates before him are removed, then indicates the size of portion he'd like of the goat, which is served as requested. Eyeing the brandy cautiously, he first partakes of the small portion of goat on his new plate.

Donavon pitches her voice low, Donavon whispers to Harris, "Though I must say I haven't enjoyed being tricked this much before."

Poole tips her glass of brandy to Churas, "Cheers, Churas, daughter of Gr'laH." Eyeing Lao then, she shakes her head, "I don't consider rice wine a beverage.... now quiet up and eat your goat."

Takamura comes into the restaurant from the mall.

Takamura has arrived.

Harris just inclines his head in amusement, eyes glittering playfully. "I'll make note of that for next time," he replies softly as he recieves goat. Yes, just goat. He's not that hungry.

Turtledove bites into a tender slice of the tastefully-arranged goat plate that she has happily accepted, and continues conversing quietly with her tablemates.

Lao grins. "Yes'm." He digs in. Between bites, he says, "And sirs, please, call me Pete. I keep hearing 'Peter' and go looking about for my mother."

Kor claps Laura on the arm with enthusiasm as the Ridge Goat is brought out, he scrapes his knives together in preparation of gusto filled cutting into, stabbing and chewing.

Tyler opts for just a half-portion of pasta, and is blissfully unaware that their waiter is privately in his own special hell with all the requests from them.

Cristobal arches an eyebrow and says, "Your mother is named Peter?" in between bites of goat.

O'Rielly comes into the restaurant from the mall.

O'Rielly has arrived.

Idrani accepts the goat meat, gotta have that protein.

Albertz glances over at the other tables, things are starting to loosen up it seems...to say the least. He smiles to himself and indicates to the waiter the cut he'd like.

"It's a perfectly handsome name for a woman," Poole chides Cristobal, also sipping at her brandy. Mmm.

"Do," shortly states Donavon after a hearty draught of the brandy. Emptied quickly, the glass is placed alongside the half filled wineglass. "Though make no habit of it lest I trick you into something less pleasing."

Kor sits down at square table.

Takamura sits down at square table.

Lao says, without a change of expression, "It was, before the surgery. She still answers to it, though she prefers Buffy."

O'Rielly remains where he's apparently been all along, hiding alone at a back table, not doing a thing to draw attention to himself.

Novairen sits down at square table.

Golden winks at Tyler after saying something to her.

Rubbing his side, Harris protests, "You already beat the stuffing out of me once!", although he doesn't look unamused. In fact, it's quite the contrary.

Cristobal snerks as he twists a bit of pasta around his fork, then spearing a chunk of goat and taking a big mouthful of both.

As she is toasted, Churas picks up a peach brandy and responds in kind to Poole, "Q'pla, Lieutenant," before knocking back the drink. The expression on her face after she does so is probably sweet, sweet revenge for anyone who's ever been tricked into eating or drinking anything... unconventional... by a Klingon. That expression is, frankly, a horrified one. "Geh. /Sweet./" She reaches for a knife, and cuts off a chunk of goat to chase away the taste of the brandy. She's given up on that 'fork' business. Cut with knife. Spear with knife. Eat. Repeat.

At her table, Turtledove laughs at Golden as she quietly enjoys the goat-brandy combination.

Javits glances up from devouring his portion of goat as Takamura seats himself at the table. With his mouth full, all he can offer in greeting is a half-wave.

. o O Cristobal thinks "Lao is a strange, strange man."

Gellan isn't eating at the moment, having finished her fish and all the other little tidbits. She is sipping at her wine though, and as Takamura joins the table, she lifts her glass in a greeting to him, flashing a quick smile. "Hiroshi. You're just in time of the big dishes."

Poole sighs, idly watching the others at her table eat. "I once had a goat... named Oscar."

Claness chats quietly with his tablemates. Occasionally, the word "Kochec!" is heard from the big Andorian.

Lao looks over, and raises a brow. "Did you, now?" he ventures.

Donavon's face alights with a fierce mischief. "Did I say it would be another beating? There are far worse things than that." Lips purse together, taunting Harris with an expression of I double dog dare ya to try.

Cristobal says to Churas, "I did warn you, all our alcohol is plant-based," around a mouthful of goat and pasta.

Harris raises an eyebrow. "Dare I ask?" he asks softly, a broad smile lighting his features.

Javits finally manages to swallow his mouthful and set his silverware aside to extend a hand to Takamura.

Takamura nods to his tablemates as he sits down. "Good evening, everyone." He shakes Javits' hand and smiles to all present. When the word "Kochek" is mentioned, his ears perk up.

"Hrmph. Well, I was toasted," Churas responds irritably to Cristobal, between bites of dead flesh. Mmm, carnivorousness. She looks aside at Poole, then, curiously.

"A goat, five sheep, a cow, a horse, some chickens, a dog and two cats," Poole continues, looking down into her drink a moment before looking over at Lao. "Til dad killed Aristocles."

Donavon holds her tongue; a finger raps to the side of her nose. "Remind me to tell you my brothers' horror stories about me. When I'm fired up, nothing is left cold." More pasta is eaten in an attempt to fill the craving...for all things pasta.

Lao nods to Poole. "I had a dog. An Irish Collie. Muffie." He looks away, eyes growing distant.

O'Rielly sits down at square table.

Javits withdraws his hand after a second or two, taking up his glass in the process and sampling some of the brandy within, both eyebrows shooting up and his eyes widening a bit at the effects of the new beverage. This one his sets aside gingerly as well.

Takamura takes a few bites of the goat and pasta. After wiping his mouth with a napkin, he says something quietly to Albertz.

Harris opens his mouth to respond, some kind of witty retort on his lips, surely... and then bites it back in favor of a smile.

"Any pets since that one?" Poole asks of Lao curiously, taking small sips of her brandy, so as to prevent it from going to her head all at once.

Cristobal shrugs and cleans his plate of meat and pasta. Sipping his brandy, he looks around the table for something else to eat and/or drink. Noting that the waiters left the bottle of sake, he drinks the brandy quickly, grinning to stifle a wince, and then pours the habu sake into his now empty glass. He says idly, "Bloodwine with the Chancellor. Brandy with the President. Think there'll be ale with the Praetor?"

Lao shakes his head sadly. "None. After the hovercar accident...I just...just couldn't." He's getting misty-eyed.

Donavon laughs between large portions of pasta. Eyes dart from her plate, then up to Harris, coyly observing. "Too fearful to speak up, o brittle one?"

"We did not really keep pets aboard," Churas offers, before lapsing into silence for a moment and eyeing Cristobal for a long moment. She snorts good-naturedly and shakes her head. "You are merely lucky, Nathan, that it was Martok my father started the headbutting contest with, and not you."

Gellan sits down at square table.

Poole pats Lao on the shoulder, "Chin up, Pete..." Thinking a moment... must... think of different subject, she asks, "Hey... You ever hear of the Poole Manuever?"

Harris shakes his head as he gazes at Donavon, then takes a swallow of brandy. "Not in the least..." he replies.

Takamura smiles as two of his favorite words are spoken at his table. He nods to Albertz and Gellan.

O'Rielly keeps alone at his table, still looking about. He doesn't seem to mind the loneliness, he's just watching everybody.

Cristobal snorts and says, "Yeah, he waited a day later to headbutt me," with a grin and a wince at the memory. He sips the warm sake.

Lao wipes his eyes with his napkin. "Sorry. I just...well, I mean the guy didn't even -stop-. I swear..." He sips his sake. "Ah, yes. The Poole Maneuver. They taught one version at the Academy. Nev told me about the other. Which am I being threatened with...ma'am?" He attempts a weak grin...but poor, poor Muffie has him all distracted.

Donavon gestures to his brandy with arched brows. "Your behavior says otherwise. Gaining courage with a drink?" A heavenly sigh escapes lips for the pasta disappears from her plate, eaten and enjoyed.

"There are a lot of callous people out there, Pete... unfortunately." Poole pats Lao's shoulder one more time then goes back to her brandy, a blush slowly creeping into her cheeks. "The first. Pete. And I'm not threatening. I was just curious."

After devoring his portion of Ridge Goat, the President rises and gestures for the bell to be rung again three times as he heads for the podium with the Federation Flag behind it; Ferengi waiters boil out of the back again, this time with salads, a garden salad, a cobb salad and a dubious looking purple leafy salad from Benzar.

Lao says, taking the last bite of his goat, and nods to Poole. "Yep. It's why I requested this posting." He drops this little bit of news without any change of expression.

. o O Cristobal thinks "He requested to be posted here so he could be kneed in the...no, I must not have been listening carefully."

Idrani's antennae move a little, picking up other table conversations. "Lieutenant Takamura," she says, "You should come to the lodge on Monday night for the kochec finals. Bring your friend," she smiles and nods to Albertz, "As he seems interested."

Sarvok's compin quietly beeps three times in quick succession.

Opening his mouth to reply, Harris is cutoff by a compin call summoning him to deck 5. He glances at Donavon with a frown. "I'm sorry..." he whispers. "I've got to go."

Poole blinks and looks over at Lao, eyes narrowing a moment. "What?"

"Yes, and look at the relative amount of rounds /that/ lasted," Churas rebuts, to pun a little. She offers her companion a sidelong glance and a wide, feral grin before elbowing Cristobal playfully in the side and going back to eating. Defending the little bit of her as-yet unfinished portion of goat meat which remains from the Ferengi waiters with a narrow-eyed glance, she eyes the salads with vague disgust and shakes her head. "No."

Claness passes on the salads, instead looking over towards Takamura with a smile.

Tyler is about to say something to Turtledove when the bell rings. She turns her attention towards the President of the United Federation of Planets and the podium.

Sarvok raises his eyebrow moments and stands from his table, "If you will excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, but I have an incoming subspace message."

Idrani smiles up at Sarvok. "Thank you for joining us tonight, Ensign. Have a good evening."

Claness nods towards Sarvok. "Good evening, Ensign."

Albertz blinks a couple of times, a little nonplussed by the Andorian's comment. He sips his brandy and eyes her curiously before turning his attention back to his table.

Idrani takes the salad, but only nibbles slightly at it.

Lao accepts the garden salad, and turns to Poole. "Mmm? Oh, well, I had my pick of a bunch of different assignments, but there was nobody really interesting at any of them, except here. Once I saw your name on the roster, I picked this station. I figured, any place Gwendolyn Poole felt worthy of her attention must be an exciting place to work. And I was right...within two months, two different engagements, a virus, and a whole slew of other fun." He nods, gesturing to the cart, "Salad?"

Sarvok nods formally and strides out of the room as fast as decorum will allow.

Sarvok stands and leaves square table.

Sarvok heads out and onto the Mall.

Sarvok has left.

Donavon waits patiently, no rather eagerly to hear the comment, but is left with a faint grimace. Duty, ah how we all understand that. A smile is forced to encouragingly to Harris, fingers extend to rap at his hand gently. "Go ahead, but only if you tell me what that drink prepares you for."

At her table, Turtledove pulls back, conversationally, smiling, looking vaguely self-conscious until she is saved by the bell and the next round of vittles. Dubious purple salad? She's there.

"Oh get off it," Poole comments to Lao, perhaps a bit loudly. She reins in her voice, quieting as she shoots a look to her dinner companion, then turns her gaze to Kor.

"The rest of the evening," Harris replies as he stands, giving his companion one last look and smile before he vanishes from the scene.

Harris heads out and onto the Mall.

Harris has left.

Cristobal grunts a little at the elbow, grinning back as she does. He murmurs, "I remember a fight on that deck that lasted quite a bit longer," his brows raising. Probably unnecessarily, he says, "You won't want those," when the salads come. He orders a garden salad with a balsamic viniagrette, and begins to shovel in the greens.

Takamura turns his head and nods to Idrani, grinning. "Thank you, Lt. Idrani. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Lao looks utterly confused at Poole's reaction. He shrugs to himself, and looks over to the President as well.

Javits glances in Idrani's direction, then turns back to his table-mates with a chuckle, shaking his heads as he speaks quietly to them.

Clearing his throat the President draws attention to himself, "If I may have your attention, Ladies and Gentlemen?"

Idrani smiles back at Takamura, then turns her attention to the President.

. o O Churas feels a brief flush of what likely passes for giddy affection in Klingons at Cristobal's return statement. Heeeeeeee.

Gellan turns her attention from the table conversation to the President.

Donavon shifts easily to gain a better view of the President, focused ahead.

Takamura turns from Idrani to the President, sipping at his brandy.

Turtledove glances at Kor, regarding him curiously as she rests her fork on the table.

Churas continues to eat her dead goat, but looks up at the President. Chomp.

Albertz stops with fork frozen halfway to his mouth, his eyes shifting to the President.

Javits quietly orders a small garden salad from one of the passing waiters, then turns towards the podium.

Claness turns towards the Kor, whose Keth did not make the Kochec final. Ah well, he is still the President.

. o O Tyler thinks "President Kor is not so bad. For an Andorian."

Park turns his attention the man at the podium.

Cristobal leans over to Churas, speaking quietly. Cristobal whispers to Churas, "If you need more protein, feel free to go ahead and gnaw on my neck." He grins unrepentantly and sits up straight, his attention now directed at the President.

Churas Eyes Cristobal In Such A Warning Fashion As To Demand Capital Letters, but remains silent.

Novairen puts her salad fork down in the half-empty bowl and picks her commbadge up off the table. A tap to activate, something said that doesn't have a chance of being heard over the din of the event, and the device goes back to where it was sitting. She adjusts her position in the chair to watch the President at the podium.

Rosalev Kor says, "Thank you all for coming and tearing meat with me, among my own people communal meals with friends and neighbors is always a treasured time -- in part because it's an excellent chance to meat members of the opposite sex from the neighboring lodges." His voice is full of warmth and good humor, every word ringing with sincere affection. "And I see that Mister Cristobal is so behind this philosophy that he's offering our celebrated Klingon guest alternate menu items." He waits for the laughs he expects to follow, prepared to get on with it afterward.

Idrani chuckles, politely.

Lao looks over to Churas, and waits for her reaction.

Claness chuckles as well, nodding slightly.

Turtledove follows Idrani's lead, joining in with a quiet grin.

Kor waggles his antenna but looks prim.

Donavon's grin gingerly lifts, chuckle kept quiet.

Cristobal arches an eyebrow at the President. He leans his head away from Churas for some reason, a light smile on his face.

Park laughs and glances over at the Klingon.

Takamura chuckles at the President's joke, grinning at Cristobal.

. o O Cristobal thinks "She's so going to kill me for this"

Tyler doesn't get it. So she just smiles.

Albertz produces the requisite chuckle, washing it down with brandy.

O'Rielly keeps his mouth shut at his table.

"Ha." No, really. She said 'ha.' Churas then snorts once and shakes her head slightly, leaning back in her chair and staring at Cristobal for a second with the LOOK OF IMMINENT DOOM. This is probably what 'politely really not amused' looks like on her.

Javits grins broadly, directing a glance in their direction.

Poole 's lips press into a thin line as she centers her gaze more firmly on Kor.

. o O Poole thinks "Is this man our president or a ruddy stand up comedian?"

. o O Churas is really. really. really. really. really unamused.

"The Summit is making excellent progress, and it please me to discover that much of the recent trouble in this sector has been discovered to be, not a trend of a slip into chaos, but a deliberate effort by a few misguided souls -- and thus something we can manage collectively to insure a bright future of mutual cooperation and understanding. This station has since it's inception fulfilled a vital role in that mutual future. Though much of the glory and recognition of the last few years has been focused on the Alpha Quadrent and the valor and tragedies there -- a much different and equally vital battle has been waged here and waged with success. Despite the numerous and disparate missions assigned to this station, each one has been met with determination, skill and valor. From mediation to rescue missions, military objectives to contact missions, this station and it's crew have weathered each storm fortune and Starfleet Command has thrown this way. Your works have not gone unnoticed. Lieutenant Poole, if you would please come forward? Unfortunately Captain Balin and Commander Ghorev are conferring with Admiral Whitehorse on a strategic policy issue and could not be here in person, but that does allow me the pleasure of calling you forward in their place, Lieutenant."

Attentions are not hard to be directed upon the President given the nature of the speech. Attentively, Donavon listens, watches, then steals a glimpse in Poole's direction.

Poole blinks a few times. Well. In all her strategizing she didn't expect this. Setting down her brandy self-consciously, she pushes her chair back and stands, then makes her way up to the podium. When the President beckons, she goes.

Lao grins up to Poole, and says, quietly, "Go get 'em, Lieutenant!"

Claness turns and watches Poole approach the podium

Churas settles back in her chair and listens, glancing aside at to Cristobal at the mention of a few misguided souls and then looking back to Kor, folding her hands over her stomach. Her eyes track the tiny Lieutenant as she approaches the podium.

Javits watches quietly, his gaze following Poole up tot he podium.

Idrani sits quietly, occasionally sipping her wine.

O'Rielly grins up a little as he looks over to Poole, but doesn't seem to make any visible reaction to it other than the grinning.

Park reaches over and takes Tyler's hand as he watches Poole move toward the front of the room.

Tyler watches Poole with a mixture of envy and pride. She smiles as her superior makes her way forward.

Cristobal meets Churas's glance, brow arched briefly before looking over at Poole.

Takamura raises an eyebrow as Poole is called up. He smiles with a little bit of pride as she makes her way to the front.

Turtledove watches, her eyes shining with quiet pride.

Kor reaches under the podium lip and pulls out a heavy wooden backed brass placard, this he offers to Poole and then he looks to the PADD on the podium top and reads, "Attention to orders, let it be known that on Stardate 53148.4 the Office of the President of the United Federation of Planets does hereby acknowledge gratefully the service and excellence of the crew of Station 149-Upsilon. For valor and gallantry during the period of martial unrest known as the Dominion War the crew of Station 149-Upsilon was pivotal in the coordination of joint operations in the Beta Quadrent between the members of the Alpha Quadrent alliance and with skill and courage deprived the Dominion of victory in the Dulcais Sector and beyond. In recognition of these efforts, the Office of the President formally cites the crew serving aboard the station for any time between October 1st, 2373 and January 1st, 2376 and grants them the right to wear a Presidential Unit citation on their uniforms and have such noted to their permanant service jacket. Likewise, the Station itself has been commended and from this day forward until the decommissioning of this station, all crew serving aboard as permanant party billeted crew may wear this citation so as to maintain the sense of unity of purpose that has been displayed so often by this crew. Your Federation, and your president salute you." He then offers his hand toward Poole to shake.

Idrani smiles faintly, listening.

Claness nods proudly.

Javits blinks a few times, glancing about the room with a rather curious frown, observing the expressions of those around him,then refocusing on the podium.

Donavon grins and draws her hands together to begin clapping, after all it isn't everyday the President officially rewards a crew with a citation.

Turtledove's eyebrows go up, she glances at Tyler, grinning widely.

. o O Cristobal thinks "Hmm. I was here before January. Well, I'm up to two medals I truly earned, and two I got for being in the right place at the right time. I suppose I should consider myself lucky..."

Tyler can't help but applaud. She looks surprised at first by the revelation, but it fades as she realizes the honesty of the words. The Presidents words ring true, 419's crew is indeed a fine group of officers.

Takamura likewise begins to applaud, his smile turning into a beaming grin. He nods to his tablemates, then over to the rest of the RRT.

Lao leans over to Cristobal as he joins in the clapping, and says, "Typical. I missed the citation by a month and a half. I knew I shouldn't have taken that leave on Betazed!"

Albertz places his glass on the table and joins the applause.

Cristobal also applauds, if perhaps a touch hesitantly. He just shrugs at Lao, a rueful smile on his face.

Park applauds as well, smiling as he looks around at those who are present. His smile turns a bit sad as he looks around the room, as if something is missing.

Gellan applauds, smiling around the room. She knows just how super this crew is.

O'Rielly just nods in response to this, but doesn't react anymore than that either. He seems to be less on reaction tonight than anything.

Churas reaches a hand over to pat one of Cristobal's. Shock and scandal. "Congratulations. Perhaps it will be ale with the Praetor after all." Rather than clapping, she slaps the flat of her hand against the table a few times and offers a hearty, "Q'PLA!" Success, indeed.

. o O Park feels pride, but tinged with sadness.

Poole smiles genuinely at the President, accepting his hand and giving it a firm shake. "Sir... this means more to us than you know," she says, her voice carrying. She accepts the placard in her off-hand and clasps it with her arm, thankful for once that she's freakishly strong for her size. "Thank you." Turning to the crew, she hefts the placard in front of her. "In my honest opinion, you are the best crew in the Alpha Quadrant... It is my privelege to serve with you here on 419 Upsilon."

. o O Churas feels pride. For Cristobal. And maybe Poole. The rest of this lot she can pretty much take or leave.

Javits joins in the applause somewhat hesitantly.

Idrani applauds politely, smiling.

Lao attempts to begin a standing ovation, rising out of his chair, continuing his applause.

Cristobal lets out a bark of laughter at Churas's statement before controlling himself and settling for a quiet chuckle instead. He places his other hand on Churas's, giving it a quick squeeze.

Golden applauds as well, applauding at his fellow officers with unrestrained gusto.

Javits glances over to Lao, then fallows suit, pushing his chair back and standing as he continues to applaud as well, apparently gaining a bit more confidence in the act.

Tyler claps more vigorously. "Hear hear!" she says, perhaps the loudest she has intentionally been on the station in three years.

Takamura also rises, the large Asian pounding his large hands together in resonant claps.

Kor applauds with the crew of officers, nodding with paternal approval.

. o O Cristobal thinks "Well, not like you can turn it down Nathan. Take the kudos, smile, and shut up."

Albertz stands along with the rest of the officers, still applauding.

Kor raises his vocal level to carry just over the din of applause to say, "You may wear the citation as well Shaklas Claness -- that is unless the Claness Kochec team wins on Monday, then I'm afraid you will just have to get stuffed." He winks toward the bearish Andorian and is probably kidding. Probably.

Dakin comes into the restaurant from the mall.

Dakin has arrived.

Claness laughs loudly, rubbing the Keth symbol on his sash. "I thank you, Mister President." Green eyes sparkle. "Better luck to the Kors next year."

O'Rielly smirks and probably reacts the most to the comment about the match on Monday. He lets out a slight laugh, but otherwise doesn't do much at his table alone.

Javits grins at the apparent verbal joust as he continues to applaud.

Idrani chuckles softly, grinning. She shakes her head ruefully.

Dakin heads into the restaurant, clad in his dress uniform, somewhat taken aback by the sheer amount of applauding people herein.

Kor plays at being offended by this retort from the Claness, then waves his hands to lower the din of applause... "Unfortunately," he begins now with somberness, "there is a dark shadow cast upon this moment Mister Poole. I am rather apalled that you are the source of this smudge as well."

Lao lets his applause die down as the President speaks, and reseats himself.

Churas offers a brief and unreservedly proud glance aside at Cristobal before withdrawing her hand and folding it back across her stomach. She blinks at Kor's next statement, and listens carefully.

. o O Cristobal thinks "She's either getting promoted, transferred, or both."

Javits tapers off his applause as he retakes his seat, a slight frown of concern coming to his features.

Poole grips the placard with both hands and half-turns to go before Kor starts speaking again. That smile on her face remains put, but becomes uneasy, that brandy boiling around in her little tummy. Well, she's not one to dodge punishments. Instead she raises her chin just a tad and waits for him to hand down the judgement.

Takamura sits back down quietly, his face going a little white.

Kor reaches under the lip of the podium again, this time extracting a small Federation blue box which he deftly opens with his thumb and forefinger. "I can't believe an officer with our experience would come to a function of this nature out of uniform." He tsks tsks. "Perhaps you better fix that by putting his pip on your collar, Lieutenant Commander."

Lao is out of his seat again, in a flash, applause starting all over again. He's grinning ear-to-ear.

Golden laughs and resumes applauding.

"Woo hoo!" Gellan isn't beyond a cheer or two, and she joins back into the cheerful applause.

Idrani smiles, resumes applauding.

. o O Cristobal thinks "Yup. Saw that one coming."

Claness does the same, his big hands slamming together.

Tyler looks up at the podium and tries to figure out what's going on, having just been speaking to her table mates as Poole got promoted. She claps so not to be out of place.

Javits's jaw drops a bit, but he quickly recovers, his expression breaking into a broad grin. After a second, his eyes narrow somewhat as he glances swiftly about the room, resuming his applause, but guardedly.

O'Rielly starts to applaud at hearing of Lt Poole's promotion to Lt Commander. He smiles as he does so, not standing at all though.

Cristobal applauds, a bit of a knowing smirk on his face.

Lao decides that whistling is in order. So he puts his fingers in his mouth, and makes it so.

. o O Javits thinks "Okay, where's the trick this time?"

Poole blinks once. Hard. Swallows. Then, looks to Kor. "Sir?" Ears full of fluff and all, just like Pooh. "Wuh-what?" She looks down at her dress, then back up. "S-s-s-orry, sir." She's gone and pulled a Tyler.

Turtledove quirks a brow, clapping and offers to Tyler with a grin, "Lt. Poole just became Lt.Cmdr. Poole."

Albertz begins applauding again, the old paws sure are getting a workout tonight. But on an occasion such as this, it's worth it.

Kor says, "Yes, don't think you fooled me by wearing a dress here, I'm pretty sure that you came in here under the guise of a Lieutenant."

Dakin grins somewhat at Poole's reaction to her abrupt grade bump.

Gellan resumes her seat, glancing around the room warily. She glances up to the cieling once too, and then murmers something softly to those at her table.

Takamura begins to clap again, hooting his congratulations.

"Q'PLA!" Churas pounds on the table once or twice again, slapping it with the flat of her palm. "Oh, Commander, stop stammering and take your pip!" She laughs aloud as hoots and whistles contribute to the noise level. Now /this/ is a /little/ more like her kind of celebration. Kinda. Sorta.

. o O Churas respects Poole, and is rather nonplussed by her reaction. Uh. Who's that, and what did they do with Poole?

Javits shoots a somewhat astonished look at Gellan, possibly over something said at the table.

Tyler's grown out of the stuttering, bumbling fool she was and into a competent officer. Right now she's getting hit with the clue bat by Turtledove. When realization dawns she grins from ear to ear. "Poole got promoted? Oh, yay!" She claps harder.

Poole straightens up then, placard held firmly in her arms and she looks to the President. "Aye, sir. Sorry, sir. I didn't ... I mean." A look back towards Churas. "Yes, right." Looking towards the President again she smiles, "Thank you, sir."

Cristobal smiles lightly at the Klingon's enthusiasm.

. o O Cristobal thinks "Just don't headbutt her when she gets back to the table"

Park applauds again, along with everyone else, and leans in to say something to those at his table.

Toog comes through the private door and into the restaurant.

Toog has arrived.

Kor pats the new Lieutenant Commander on the shoulder with a fatherly hand and with the other sets her pip box, closed again with a deft flick of the thumb, atop the death grip clutched placard. "Congratulations, young lady."

Toog quietly steps out of the back room and leans against the nearest wall, watching the proceedings. With so many people present in his establishment, the little Ferengi couldn't be more pleased than if he had managed to sell off his own mother for a full strip of latinum.

Kor says, "Be sure to remember to give that placard to the Captain, despite how well it would go with your quarters decor."

O'Rielly smirks a little more at Kor's humor, but finally stops clapping as well.

Poole remembers after a moment that the vibrant Andorian in front of her is also aged... she's not been called young lady in a long while. "Mr. President." She frees one hand long enough to give the CoC an old style Terran salute, two fingers to her brow before lowering it and nodding. "We should share a drink later, sir... ..." pause "I'll remember. To give it to Captain Balin. You have my word of honor." And with that she turns smartly and heads back to her seat.

. o O Cristobal thinks "I heard that pause. An opportunity has presented itself, eh?"

Churas settles back in her chair, looking thoroughly amused, and folds her hands back across her stomach, letting out a gruff little chuckle and shaking her head.

<CONTEST> Poole (claiming disadvantage) contests her Athletics (Walking In A Straight Line) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Fails!

Kor after Poole has sat back down, raises his voice again and says, "Recently ...oh.. Commander... your dress ..smoldering... the Ridge goat rotissirie... someone splash some water on her"

Golden suddenly wishes he was sitting closer, how often do you get an opportunity like that?

Poole makes it about halfway back to her table before she starts weaving, poor old girl... what with the heavy placard and shock and booze and a little tummy. Pause. Stop. Reboot. Start again, one foot in front of the other until she's near her table again. All the while head held high, smile on her face. Then smells the burning and halts. Oh. Crap.

Lao watches Poole stumble on her way to the table, and pulls out a chair for her. As she seats herself, he says warmly, "Congratulations, Lt.Commander." He looks up to a passing waiter. "Refill the lady's brandy, please." Mission accomplished, he reseats himself.

Idrani blinks, looking over at Poole's table.

Churas, ever the practical one -- in her own way, yes -- unfolds her hands, grabs two water goblets, and dumps them in entire over Poole. Splursh. Two more. To be sure.

Dakin blinks and grabs a pitcher off the buffet, as he was leaning along the back wall, and comes over briskly to Poole. "Hold still a second, Gwen..." He splashes enough onto the hem of her dress to douse the fire, but not enough to deluge the newly promoted Two-O.

Claness blinks. Watches.

O'Rielly frowns and comments quietly, "I think I remember some old Earth tradition of dumping water on a winning leader... but for a promotion?"

Cristobal successfully resists the temptation to drench the Commander, fearful Churas might misinterpret the gesture. So she goes ahead and does it herself. He shrugs and orders more brandy for himself.

Albertz lets out a hoot at the spectacle of the new two-and-a-halfer getting baptised. He turns to Javis, grinning "Are all the dinners here like this?"

Poole sputters as she's doused. This, truly, is the utmost test of her humility. She looks aside to Churas, suddenly very very very sober. "Thanks." Squish squash squish, steps over to her chair. Sits, dignified, pulls her black wrap from the back of the chair and tightly about her.

Lao watches Poole stumble on her way to the table, and stands to pull out a chair for her. Then she catches on fire. He blinks. Then he winces as Poole gets soaked. He waits for her to get a little closer, and smiles wanly, in an attempt to be comforting. As she seats herself, he leans over and says, "Um. Congratulations, Lt.Commander." He looks up to a passing waiter. "Refill the lady's brandy, please. I think she could use some more." Mission accomplished, he reseats himself.

Javits slows his applause until he finally ceases it altogether, leaning forward slightly as he watches. With the President's statement, his eyes widen, then bug out completely at the Klingon's actions and those who follow her. After a moment of shocked silence, it's all he can manage to keep from bursting out with laughter, with the effort rather obvious in his expression.

. o O Cristobal thinks "Too bad Churas only wears leather and metal. I'll never have the chance to douse her."

Dakin just smiles and runs a hand back through his hair at the display. Leaning against the back wall by himself with his arms crossed over his chest, he has a good view of the whole proceeding.

Nolte stands from the table, tidily. She makes for the door, with purpose.

Idrani nods to Nolte as she rises, then murmurs something to Claness.

Toog stares, dumbfounded at Pyro Poole. He says aside to his trusty employee, Meeb, "Do get her a towel, Meeb. And make sure the furniture remains unsinged."

Idrani whispers to Claness, "Alone at last..."

. o O Javits thinks "This is just too much of a coincidence to not be funny. If only Chief Berian could be here."

Claness smiles. "Good night, Femke."

. o O Cristobal thinks "Then again...I wonder if there's a way to program the vents in her quarters to give a quick blast of steam. Might get the tunic as wet as water..."

Tyler is relieved that Poole isn't going up like a Colonial witch. She looks back to Golden and gives him a smile.

Cristobal sips idly at his brandy. He nods to Poole and says politely, "Congratulations Commander," as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

Nolte stands and leaves square table.

Nolte heads out and onto the Mall.

Nolte has left.

"Doctor Park to the Infirmary, Code 3.", comes from Aaron's combadge. He stands, pauses long enough to kiss Wendy on the cheek before he runs to the exit, tapping his badge and responding, "On my way."

Novairen doesn't bother to make any effort at hiding her amusement. She flashes a set of white teeth and grins merrily at the newly promoted officer's misfortune. Especially so when it's not just one person who decides to try and put out the fire.

Park heads out and onto the Mall.

Park has left.

Poole takes her refilled brandy and raises it to Cristobal, "Thank you Nathan," she says quietly, still smiling. She offers a wink to those staring her way, then looks to Lao, "Thank you, Pete."

Churas returns to her seat and settles back, giving Poole a rather sympathetic look before chuckling and adding her own, "Q'pla, Commander," to the more quietly-spoken comments of those at her table.

Lao nods, a little sheepishly. "Not at all." He looks at her burned and soaked dress, and starts to undo his dress jacket.

Nolte comes into the restaurant from the mall.

Nolte has arrived.

Meeb, the soft-spoken Ferengi waiter, approaches Poole with a towel and a civilian dress jacket. "P-perhaps the Commander would be mo-more comfortable in this?" Both items are offered to Poole, one in each hand.

Kor clears his throat. "Recently, your station sent a mission to the Kunra to facilitate a first contact as some of you may know. The mission was a complete success by all accounts and it is my pleasure to offer the contratulations of the Minister of Contact, the Federation Diplomatic Services and Starfleet Diplomacy. Lieutenant Idrani, front and center."

Cristobal raises his glass again, before taking another sip.

. o O Cristobal thinks "I wonder if Thea would agree to help me rig up Churas's quarters like that...Probably not..."

Nolte returns, with a far less glamourous, but, well. Warm and butt-covereing sweat suit, Poole-sized. Federation blue. She weaves to the new lt. Comander, placing it beside her swiftly, without a word. Only habits of assistancsip die hard. She finds her seat again.

Albertz settles back into his chair, glass in hand, glad brandy isn't the most popular of libations at his table. He focuses on the President, surprised there are more presentations. What could possibly top flamin superior officers?

Claness beams as Idrani's name is called by the president. He watches Jaylas.

Idrani gets to her feet quickly, a reflex action. She approaches the podium, her presence stately and dignified.

Poole sets down her brandy and accepts the towel and jacket from Meeb, only to have a sweat suit placed beside her by Nolte. She smiles at the shy Ferengi, murmuring her thanks, then looks after Nolte who disappears again quickly. Tugging on the jacket, she uses the towel to dry her face and neck before looking up towards Idrani and Kor.

. o O Idrani feels nervous. But determined not to show it.

Lao buttons up his jacket again as Poole is offered everybody else's clothes. His attention is drawn to the podium.

. o O Cristobal thinks "Hmm, another promotion, or just a medal? I wonder if he'll call me up for the whole Balduk thing? Probably shouldn't have drank so much...Just stay away from the goat Nathan, and you'll be just fine."

Turtledove watches Idrani approach the podium, eyes twinkling with quiet anticipation.

Tyler only mildly pouts as her date is called away on nedical emergency. She is soon listening again to the proceedings as Kor calls up Idrani, and watches the Andorian woman as she moves to the front.

Takamura watches wide-eyed at Poole, then turns his attention to Idrani as she ia called forward.

Javits changes the focus of his attention from Poole and Idrani.

Kor says, "Ensign Lao, Front and Center."

. o O Tyler's mind drifts toward the faces of Lt. Ghorev and Ensign Idisha, two Andorians who have frustrated her to no end.

Cristobal murmurs, "Stay clear of the goat, Pete," to the Ensign at his table.

Lao's expression freezes, and then rises, murmuring, "Excuse me," to the table and flashing a truly horrified expression at Cristobal. He marches to the podium...but he steers conspicuously clear of said goat.

Javits directs a look towards Lao, then turns his attention back to the podium.

Turtledove's eyes shift to Lao, following him to the podium as well.

. o O Idrani thinks "...don't trip...don't fidgit... don't forget to breathe.... don't twitch.... stay calm...."

Churas watches with mild interest, allowing her hands to drop into her lap as she settles back a bit more.

Kor says, "Lieutenant, in recognition of your successful first contact mission to the Kunra, and the establishment of formal diplomatic relations, it is my pleasure to award you, Lieutenant Foster, Lieutenant Caeli, Ensign Va'tol, Ensign Lao and Ensign Jameson with the Prentares Ribbon." he extracts six longer Federation blue boxes, he offers three to Idrani, two to Lao. The sixth he pops open and with what seems to be great practice, he pins Lao's medal on his uniform. "Lieutenant Idrani, if you would please give the medals and my congratulations to the other officers on your team that were unable to attend, I would be most gratified."

. o O Idrani thinks "Don't lock your knees... don't squeak... don't clear your throat.... speak clearly..."

Tyler smiles as the honors are presented to Idrani and Lao. She claps for them, proud of their achievement in diplomacy.

Idrani nods, smiling a little and showing marvelous restraint by not jumping up and down, says clearly and calmly, "Aye, sir. It would be my pleasure."

Cristobal smiles. At the deserving officers. Yes indeedy.

Javits smiles, joining in another round of applause.

Takamura applauds the newly decorated officers.

. o O Nolte thinks "My he'es a skinny shouldered little thing-- it's not wonder Kor is out of the finals."

Lao stands upright, and says, projecting so people can hear him, "Thank you, sir. If I may...Lieutenant Idrani deserves all the credit, sir. She was a fine leader on the mission. She even got an engineer to be diplomatic." This quip is delivered with Lao's customary grin. "Sir," he adds.

Dakin smiles and also applauds the commendations from his position at the back wall.

Albertz smiles and applauds.

Poole applauds her officers, setting down her brandy of course (which she has not drank at all, ahem). Wait a sec, where's the placard. Oh, there it is. Hmph. More clapping.

Churas watches with an expression of detatched interest. She looks even a bit confused; apparently she's been too focused on one set of current events to hear about the others.

Turtledove claps cheerily along, her grin widening at Lao's quip.

Cristobal mimics Churas's style of applause, one hand slapping the table enthusiastically. He quietly asks Poole, "Do we soak them too, or is that just for promotions?"

Javits directs a sidelong glance towards Cristobal, chuckling quietly at his statement.

Loud, loud applause are coming from the large ADF officer near the front. Claness is grinning from antenna to antenna, or so it seams. His impossible grin grows impossibly larger as he hears Lao's comments.

Idrani smiles a little at Lao's comment, flushing a dusky indigo. "The team deserves the credit, sir."

. o O Javits thinks "Only for promotions, I hope."

. o O Idrani feels embarassed.

Poole squints at Cristobal. Then she moves to stand, speaking quietly to her table mates before she edges towards the doors.

. o O Churas thinks "/Impossible/ male."

. o O Cristobal thinks "Mmm...hand...ow!"

Cristobal winces for some reason.

. o O Javits thinks "And if any of them are reassigned, may fortune help them in sneaking off the station undetected."

Churas glances up at Poole when she addresses her table, and nods slightly, before glancing at Cristobal with a distinct 'that's what you get, punk' look.

Kor says, "Mister Lao, you may sit down with our thanks." He smiles then says, "Mister Idrani, you Captain had a discussion with me regarding your performance in the diplomatic department. He also had quite a bit to say about your OERs. It seems, he was not pleased with the resolution of your promotability in light of the and I quote him in saying, "Superb level of excellency" you have displayed in your very difficult task of late. Considering the trust and respect I have for the Captain, and his judgement -- I would be remiss to dismiss his personal commentary on this matter. That said..." He reaches under the podium lip and pulls out another square box which he flips open with his thumb. "As of this date, I hearby promote you to the rank of Lieutenant, with all the responsibilities and priviledges thereof. Congratulations, Lieutenant."

. o O Cristobal thinks "Dammit, she's armored everyone it's convenient to hit her. Oh look, Idrani's getting promoted."

Lao leaves the stage, and resumes his seat, beaming as Idrani gets promoted. And he starts with the applause yet again. His hands are going to hurt tomorrow.

. o O Javits thinks "Run, Lieutenant, run!"

Cristobal frowns for some reason, then shrugs. He picks up his water glass.

. o O O'Rielly thinks "Oh, here comes round two of the fire."

Albertz smiles and raises a glass as an alternative to clapping. Another promotion, more sparkings and dousings perhaps?

Idrani's eyes widen, but she manages to keep her jaw from dropping. Or from dropping the boxes of medals, for that matter. "Thank you, sir. I am honored."

Turtledove's eyes light up! Quietly of course. She grins ever more widely and claps for Idrani.

Lao turns to Cristobal, lowering his voice as he continues to applaud, and says, Lao whispers to Cristobal, "I know, I know. 'Where's Pete's promotion?' I was thinking the exact same thing."

. o O Cristobal thinks "What the hell are you talking about?"

Javits starts to join in another round of applause, then thinks better of it, following Albertz' example instead, but not daring to take another sip of brandy.

Poole stands and leaves square table.

Cristobal arches an eyebrow at Lao.

Claness continues clapping, his antennae swiviling from here to there as he shares in the moment.

Kor says, "The summit must be going well if you are thanking me, young lady. Now, mind the ridge goat on your way back to your seat, following in the Commander's footsteps is admiral, but let's not take things to extremes, shall we?"

Golden applauds heartily as well, even throwing in a whistle.

After taking a few moments to watch the proceedings, Toog returns to the backroom presumably to either manage affairs from behind the scenes or count the expected Federation credits.

Toog steps through the door marked 'Private'.

Toog has left.

O'Rielly claps for Idrani's promotion, smiling her way.

Idrani manages a little smile, still in that shocked-surprise thing. "No, sir. Er, yes, sir. I'll be careful, sir." She adds quickly, then returns to her seat.

Cristobal takes a sip of water. What? He wasn't going to really douse her. Don't be silly.

. o O Cristobal thinks "Yes I was"

Dakin also joins in the applause as Idrani makes her way back into the crowd.

Churas slaps a hand on her table a few times, nodding a bit more distantly.

Idrani does shoot a glance at the Cristobal/Churas table as she passes. Just in case any dousing -is- heading her way.

Cristobal raises his glass in toast to Idrani, an unrepentant grin on his face. He has another sip of water.

Kor in a deliberately audible aside to Laura Novairen, says, "It's amazing the effect giving a pip seems to have on beautiful young women.. if only I'd known this secret when I was young and single, eh?" He wraggles his antennae.

Nolte stands as Idrani finds her seat again, greeting her with the only appropriate thing. A massive bearhug, hairpetting, and smiles.

Gellan again, joins in cheerful applause, smiling warmly at the new promotee.

. o O Cristobal thinks "Eh, probably better this way. Andorians are afraid of water, right?"

Ghorev comes into the restaurant from the mall.

Ghorev has arrived.

Takamura continues his applause, nodding th the new Lieutenant.

O'Rielly sits down at square table.

Lao sits back, shrugging as Cristobal doesn't laugh at his joke. He nods, grinning, to Idrani as she passes.

Claness chuckles as he watches Idrani return to the table. "It isn't that table you have to worry about, water-wise." He gives Nolte a wink. "Though we would have had to join in if they decided to "baptize you".

Idrani smiles a little in return to Cristobal. Not like holding a few boxes would enable her to have much of a defense against H-2-O. Upon reaching her table, she sets them down, returns Nolte's hug, then sits back down.

Dakin nods to Ghorev from his perch on the restaurant's back wall as the station's XO enters.

Ghorev slips in quietly during the promotional ceremonies -- hey, *someone* had to be in Ops keeping the compensators on lest the sudden shift of mass to one side of the station tilt it or something -- and makes his way to a side table.

Idrani grins at Claness, "Don't even -think- about it."

Tyler gives Idrani a smile from her table, continuing to applaud. "Congratulations," she says. It's not very loud, almost conversational, but it doesn't have to be for Idrani to pick it up.

Claness thinks about it, but Idrani can't stop him! He just smiles at her.

Churas's eyes flicker toward the door, and then her jaw sets, and she looks at Cristobal for a moment before idly adjusting her armor with one hand and staring off toward one of the viewports.

. o O Claness thinks "I would so love to dump a glass of water on your head! Tee hee! That would be funny!"

Idrani does hear Tyler's congratulations and nods to her, with a smile. Still a little bewildered.

. o O Churas thinks "Not now, Commander, but the insult against my honor will be answered. Either by me, or by you."

Kor says, "Mister Ghorev, it seems your timing is impeccable. Front and center, Commander."

Cristobal follows Churas' look towards the door, before glancing back at the President.

O'Rielly smiles over towards Idrani, but he doesn't do anything else in response seemingly. He reaches down to his belt and frowns as he doesn't feel the padd there, but then he remembers, sneaks a hand inside his dress jacket, and pulls one out.

Javits turns to look at the entrance, following the President's gaze.

. o O Churas has an /intense/ loathing for Ghorev, coupled with anger, and insulted honor. Mmm. Insulted Klingons. Vengeful goodness.

Claness squeezes Idrani's hand as she sits back down. He then turns his attention back to the President.

Tyler turns her head. Is her arch-nemesis even here? Yes, there he is! Mr. Ghorev, I presume. She smiles slightly, regarding the Andorian Commander with an arched eyebrow.

. o O Cristobal thinks "Remember what I said? /Really/ not the time love..."

Ghorev, it must said, has fairly decent reflexes. And so it is without any real pause that he settles into a chair, pulls it into a table, sets his napkin on his lap, reaches for a glass of something to drink, raises it to his lips, hears his summons from the Commander-in-Chief, sets the glass down, removes the napkin from his lap, pushes the chair out, rises, and proceeds 'front and center'. If it weren't for the momentary glimpse of confusion, one would think this a comedy act directed by the President.

"So it would seem, Sir," Novairen dutifully responds. "Although I'm not sure I'd appreciate the price some of them are paying for it tonight," the security guard continues quietly, although just loud enough to carry up to the podium. As the President calls the station exec forward, she falls silent and picks up her glass of water.

There's some amazing space dust outside those viewports. Churas finds it much more interesting than the present proceedings, apparently.

Lao looks over as Ghorev is called to the podium. He leans over to Cristobal. "Ten slips of latinum says he walks out of here a full Commander."

Turtledove's attention likewise shifts to Ghorev, watching him approach the podium with surprise and quiet amusement, considering. Her eyebrows knit gently, curious.

Cristobal arches an eyebrow at Lao. "He just made full El Tee a couple weeks back." He raises a hand, his left hand, and says, "You're on. Ten slips," extending the hand to Lao.

Lao extends his hand, grinning back to Cristobal. "Done."

Takamura watches as Ghorev makes his way to the fornt.

GAME: Turtledove spends a courage point.

Cristobal shakes his head, "Or Light Commander," he murmurs. Brain fart. "Anyway, shh, let's see."

. o O Cristobal thinks "Ok, money on the line. Now this is interesting."

. o O Novairen sighs wistfully, "I should be up there."

. o O Ghorev feels a bit baffled, really.

. o O Ghorev thinks "Or is this where he lets people know I have his honor blade? Am I missing something? I'm hardly a politician, damn it."

. o O Churas thinks "Or perhaps they could pitch his honorless corpse out an airlock."

. o O Cristobal thinks "I suppose it would be rude to order another drink right now"

Kor says, "Commander Ghorev, despite the most aggravating result of the match between the Kor's and Ghorev's in the semi-finals -- aggravating because your Keth's team gave mine what Captain Garring of U.S.S. Federation referred to as a schlacking when we discussed it this morning -- I am forced to reveal that Starfleet Command has reconsidered your recent elevation to the rank of Lieutenant Commander. Yes, we realize that traditionally on this station the Executive Officer has held this rank; it only seemed appropriate to grant such a lofty position to the officer serving in this stead considering the war was on and the duties involved. Now, of course, the war is over. The Dominion defeated, and that mission perspective is no longer applicable." He pauses soberly and flicks his antenna. "Now, this station is in the fulcrum of our destiny leading into the next century. It's strategic and diplomatic importance will only escalate as time passes. The work done here will very well help shape the future for our Federation for decades if not longer. Simply put, it's not a job we feel comfortable entrusting to a Lieutenant Commander." He reaches under the lip of the podium, "That said, On this date, you are hereby promoted to the rank of Commander, with all the duties and responsibilities thereof. Congratulations, Commander Akeen Ghorev."

Lao turns to Cristobal, and says, "Will that be cash or credit, sir?" His grin is triumphant, as he stands once more and applauds loudly.

. o O Churas HATE HATE HATE.

. o O Cristobal thinks "Damn."

Idrani smiles, applauding for the new Commander.

Golden drops is jaw slightly at this revelation, but he closes it quickly and despite himself finds himself applauding.

. o O Ghorev thinks ".....uh....."

Would you just /look/ at all that dust? The Klingon apparently finds it /fascinating./ Her jaw tightens a little, loosens, and tightens again.

Javits grins, shaking his head as he stands and applauds rather loudly.

Dakin smiles widely and makes with the applause again.

Tyler claps for Ghorev. He may be her nemesis, but he's still well-respected by Wendy Tyler, and she's proud of him right now as her peer and co-worker. She smiles faintly.

O'Rielly gives a polite clap upon hearing of the Commander's promotion, but just a polite one. The clap itself stops rather quickly, and he returns to his PADD.

Claness falls somewheere inbetween Idrani's and Golden's reactions. A brow quirks, but a smile is firmly in place as he applauds for Commander Ghorev.

Cristobal grumbles, "I should pay you in Pakled millicreds," he says, referring to a nearly worthless bit of currency. Ten slips worth would probably fill up most of a runabout. He joins the others in applause.

. o O Churas thinks "Nathan!"

Takamura blinks and resumes applause mode. Boy, his hands are starting to get tired.

Ghorev, for a moment, is clearly caught by surprise. Sure, one might have deduced it by the need for some rank parity, or by the President's preamble speech. But, well, one might also have feared the dropping of some invisible space-hammer on one's head. He manages, after a moment, to say. "Sir, thank you, Sir," because, when in doubt, one falls back on Academy reflexes to avoid any falling invisible space-hammers. He reaches forward for the exchange, still clearly, well, stunned a bit.

Albertz claps politely, trying hard to keep the same enthusiasm for the act he had at the beginning of the applause marathon.

Lao has lost no enthusiasm. Zero. He applauds loudly and long, resuming his seat as he does. His grin is just as wide for Ghorev as it was for Poole.

Kor lifts his PADD from the Podium and leans in closer to the new commander, showing him something scripted upon it's surface that is for him alone apparently.

Turtledove, meanwhile, applauds for Ghorev as well, smiling brightly, her eyes sparkling with surprise, warmth and quiet awe.

The only person in the room clearly voting /for/ invisible space hammers -- that would be Churas -- turns her head sharply to look at Cristobal, blinks, and turns back to staring out the viewports.

GAME: Churas spends a courage point.

Cristobal's applause quietly dies under Churas's scrutiny. He gives her a 'later' look.

. o O Cristobal thinks "Try to understand, one does not snub one's commanders regardless of previous disputes."

. o O O'Rielly thinks "on the plus side, at least I won't have to worry about Embarassment in front of many of the officers here."

Javits slowly resumes his seat once more, ceasing his applause in favor of rubbing his hands together somewhat gingerly.

Ghorev sobers after a moment, reading what is put before him. Ghorev whispers to Kor, "I understand, Mister President. I'll await further news."

. o O Javits thinks "Ow, any more applause and I'll have to postpone that IDF assembly changeout tomorrow."

From Gellan's combadge is a soft chirp and a page. Regretfully she stands up from her table. "I'm sorry..I'm needed elsewhere." She flashes a little smile and quickly slips out.

Gellan heads out and onto the Mall.

Gellan has left.

Javits raises a hand to give the rapidly departing Gellan a farewell wave.

Dakin continues applauding even as his brow furrows a bit upon seeing the clandestine exchange between Ghorev and the President.

Claness listens.

Albertz raises a hand very belatedly as the counselor departs. Oh well. Missed her. More brandy.

Lao stops applauding, and turns to Cristobal. He looks at the distracted Churas, and then leans over to Cristobal. Lao whispers to Cristobal, "Come by my quarters when you get a chance. I have something that might interest you."

Kor pats the commander on the shoulder then puts his PADD back to the Podium, "Enjoy some of the Ridge Goat, it's very good. You may sit down Commander."

Churas stares out the viewport.

Ghorev steps back. "Aye, Sir. Thank you, Mister President." And with that, pips in hand, makes his way back to his table, settles himself into a seat, pulls it in. This time, he does not tempt fate with napkin and drink. Yet.

. o O Churas thinks "There's still time! Someone could /still throw him out an airlock./"

Idrani gets a quiet combadge message that she has an incoming subspace message. She quietly excuses herself and departs.

Idrani stands and leaves square table.

Idrani heads out and onto the Mall.

Idrani has left.

Cristobal arches an eyebrow at Lao and says dryly, "I don't mind admitting that that invitation /terrifies/ me. I may have to bring Churas along for protection."

Lao notes that Churas is looking out the window, and shakes his head twice, firmly, with a look of alarm in his eyes. He mouths, 'No!' and then says, in a casual tone, "Might not be a bad idea, sir."

Kor says, "Lieutenant Hiroshi Takamura, Lieutenant Tera Turtledove..." He looks about and sees that Malloy is absent, and considers that he is perhaps working on whatever called Park away earlier so skips his name and says, "Ensign James Stewart -- Front and Center."

Golden smiles, as he suspects he knows what this is about.

Javits looks to Takamura with a nod and smile of encouragement, speaking quietly at his table.

Takamura blinks, stands up, and straightens his uniform. He then proceeds to march up to the front and stand at attention before the president.

Tyler grins at her officers as they are called forward by Kor.

Poole chooses this point in time to return, having performed her miraculous ten minute change into her dress uniform. ... Fast as she was in the Academy. (No silly comments, Ghorev). Peeking in, she wanders back over to her table, taking a seat next to Lao.

Claness follows the sound of the RRT officers moving forward with his antennae.

Stewart rises with the rest of his teammates, quietly adjusting his uniform jacket and brushing a hand down the stomach of it. He motions for Tera and Hiroshi to proceed before him, and then moves up to stand at attention as well.

Turtledove's eyes snap to Kor, quietly surprised. Nonetheless, she stands and walks smartly in front of Stewart, behind Takamura, up to the podium. As smartly as can be possible, while wearing a dress, that is. She stands in front of Kor with the best military bearing possible, considering.

Lao rises as Poole returns, once again pulling out her seat for her, and pushing it in underneath her. He checks her collar for the right amount of pips, obviously, grinning as he does.

Cristobal just gives Lao a funny look. He turns to Churas and asks casually, "More meat? I could have the Ferengi break out a bottle of bloodwine?"

. o O Cristobal thinks "Must distract..."

"Baghol," rumbles Churas, glancing sidelong at Cristobal and folding her hands over her stomach again, slumping down in her chair somewhat.

. o O Churas thinks "I know you are humoring me, Nathan, but right now, I really do not care."

. o O Cristobal thinks "Maybe a sedative in the baghol..."

Cristobal sighs and waves one of the waitstaff over, quietly placing an order for Churas. He slumps in his own chair as well.

Claness watches the President.

Rosalev Kor looks at each of the assembled officers before him and says, "Due to the classifed nature of the Strategic Operations missions you participate in as part of the Rapid Response Program, I may not cite the specifics of your actions that bring you before me on this day; but I can state with complete sincerity that your superiors, including myself, are aware of the courage and skill that have been required of you; and of the dedicated fulfillment of these requirements that each of you has delivered. Because of your gallantry in the face of armed opposition to forces hostile to the Federation, on this date each of you is hereby awared a Federation Medal of Valor. Let all who see this award on your breast note that it has been won by your deeds and courage, and with it is carried the thanks of a grateful Federation." He then reaches beneath the lip of the podium and extracts four long Federation Blue boxes. He opens the first and presents it Turtledove, who's black dress would not accomodate it's formal placement upon her breast. He then opens the second and third and in order places them upon the uniforms of Takamura and Stewart. "Turn and face your peers so they may bear witness to your courage and devotion to duty."

Lao applauds politely, with far less enthusiasm than he did the other officers.

Poole smiles Lao's way before clapping for the RRT. Yay! And she's dry. Woo.

Cristobal applauds politely, a light smile on his face.

. o O Cristobal thinks "Maybe it's just because I was a guest of honor there, but Martok's party seemed a lot more fun than this. I think I've contracted a case of Klingon"

Dakin smiles and claps for the three of them. They're not technically under his command, but he does supervise them and he's proud of them.

Golden rises from his seat and applauds with gusto, his happiness and pride in his teammates blazing forth like a torch in a pit of darkness.

Tyler applauds wildly and beams with pride for her officers. She, too, rises.

O'Rielly sets his padd down and claps for the officers as they receive their award.

Churas thumps one of her massive hands on the table. Once. And then returns to folding her hands over her stomach.

Javits refrains from applauding this time, not out of disrespect, but out of the concern for his hands. Instead he takes up his glass, raising it high to the assembled RRT officer, then downing a draught of the brandy within, which ends up causing a minor coughing fit.

Albertz applauds again, having found his second wind. He stands yet again, impressed by what a red letter day it's been for many of the personnel.

Ghorev applauds with genuine sincerity. Surprising, all things considered. Perhaps he's still a little stunned.

Takamura nods to President Kor as the medal is pinned to his broad chest. After the presentation, he makes a sharp about face to look upon the gathered crowd. He then glances towards his teammates with winks and a wide smile.

. o O Churas thinks "Annoying /and/ boring."

. o O Cristobal thinks "Either that or I just want the attention on me. Am I selfish or Klingon?"

At her place, Tyler says "I'm so proud of those guys, Dylan."

Turtledove's eyes are filled with cheery pride as she turns to face her fellow officers, beaming with all the quiet happiness that her heart can muster. Her happiness seems to feed on the the approval and acceptance of her peers.

Stewart moves through the motions with a rather un-Stewartlike crispness, moving in line to get the medal. He salutes President Kor after it is received, and then turns to the crowd, standing at attention for the applause. His expression is naturally rather surprised, and he fights to keep to a low grin.

At his place, Cristobal glances at Churas, a look of concern in his eyes. Knowing she won't appreciate such, he looks away, instead focusing on the presentation up at the podium.

Claness applauds with the crowd, smiling.

. o O Cristobal thinks "Just selfish, probably. Forgive me Churas."

Kor says, "Thank you, gentlemen and lady. Mister Takamura, if you will take this fourth medal and see that Lieutenant Malloy gets it, I would appreciate it. You may sit down."

Churas flickers a glance sidelong at Cristobal, and quietly reaches over to pat one of his hands, an awkward gesture. She drops her hands into her lap again and sits quietly, watching.

At her place, Churas snags Cristobal's hand again under the table -- Scandal! Upset to the Empire! Shock! -- and offers him a brief 'not your fault' sort of sidelong glance.

Takamura turns back around to get the other box from Kor. He bows slightly, as he says, "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Takamura then dutifuly marches back to his seat.

Tyler is hailed before she can congratulate her crewmates. She curses silently to herself as she extricates herself from the proceedings and slips out the door.

At his place, Cristobal smiles in response to Churas. He gives her hand a quick squeeze.

Turtledove nods in near-reverent awe to the President, still beaming. She then files after Takamura, but veers to return to her original seat. Eyes on Golden as she sits, she regards him with a vaguely knowing, and all-out beaming grin.

. o O Cristobal thinks "I still owe you. Make it up shomehow..."

Stewart turns back and files out in line after Turtledove and Takamura, quietly taking his seat again. He adjusts his uniform slightly before sitting down, and then lets his grin switch to all-out beam, now that he's out of the eye of the crowd.

At his place, Golden says "Congratulations, Tera."

At her place, Turtledove eyes Golden, grinning. It's clear that, perhaps most of all, Golden's comments have a profound effect on her present state of quietly contained happiness. She comments mildly, "Thank-you, sir. Most sincerely."

Churas watches the proceedings with an oddly detatched expression. Occasionally, she exchanges a glance with Cristobal, but largely she just sort of watches disinterestedly.

. o O Cristobal thinks "I know. I won't try to pressure her into dancing."

Lao has stopped applauding, and flags a nearby waiter. "Coffee, please." He looks back to the podium with a rather neutral expression, all told.

At her place, Churas returns the gesture to Cristobal, falling largely into one of her statue impressions thereafter. Still life with Klingon.

At his place, Albertz rubs his hand together gingerly and lets out a small sigh. "Whew. I can't remember the last time I clapped that much. Not that it's undeserved or a chore or anything." He grits his teeth, "It's just my hands are damn sore!"

. o O Cristobal thinks "Ok, he's given out awards to Commander Ghorev, Commander Poole, the First Contact team, the RRT, and the entire crew of the Station in totem. There can't be much more."

Javits nods emphatically to Albertz in response to something said at their table, indicating his glass by holding it up an inch or two.

. o O Turtledove thinks "I wonder, now, what is in store for Dylan..."

At his place, Javits says "Absolutely. Any more and I'll end up in the infirmary."

At his place, Takamura smiles at the two gentlemen, nodding. "That's alright. I understand completely. No offense was taken."

And then the President attends to the last official aspect of the evening. He calls Aliana Cerene forward, and she demurely rises from her seat at the table with Golden and Turtledove to come before the aged Kor. "Second Legate Intern Aliana Cerene -- I am told that when you chose to leave Starfleet Academy and pursue instead training for the Federation Diplomatic Services, many of your advisors were concerned that you had chosen poorly and that your true chance for greatness lay inside the uniform of the Starfleet." He smiles, "I'm sure right about now they are feeling very, very foolish." He allows that to sink in then continues.

"It is an unusual request for a diplomatic Intern to push for a posting as dangerous for the uninitiated as Qo'nos. Any mistake there is met with rebuke most deliberate by our allies and friends, the Klingons. Yes, you did just that, and what is more you exceeded expectations while there winning a posting on this station as the Diplomatic Cultural Attache in residence. That, again, no small feat for an "intern". But, even the most seasoned diplomatic services member would be hard pressed to outshine the acheivement you have made in your participation in recent matters of critical alliance importance within the empire over the last month. Though your internship was not to end until the end of next month, it would be petty of us to hold you to that date young lady so it is my pleasure to inform you that you are no longer any intern."

"What's more, so vital was your participation in continuing the friendship and mutual respect between the Klingon Empire and the Federation, The Chief Diplomat and I have discussed your case and have decided to make your posting here continue past your internship, and with that posting we append to you the promotion to Legate, and grant you the position With Portfolio for the Klingon Empire. Congratulations young lady." Kor then takes out a scroll wrapped in a ribbon and presents it to the young Betazoid -- even to those who were not sure what the President was talking about, this gesture makes it all too clear. This was the equivalent of a Midshipman graduating and receiving her commission, and being promoted directly to Lieutenant junior grade in the process. The President applauds and Cerene turns, holding her scroll tightly, to face those gathered.

At his place, Albertz grins at Takamura and raises another glass of that fantastic brandy in his honour. "Hey, believe me sir. I'm not complaining."

Lao applauds politely, having no idea who this young woman is.

Dakin applauds for Aliana, whom she only knows through her friendship with his wife.

Javits once more raises his glass high, though this time he refrains from drinking, setting the glass on the table with a smile.

Cristobal seems to come alive at that. He stands and applauds enthusiastically. "Ali!" he calls out, cheering her on.

Poole also claps for the young Betazoid, having a somewhat better idea of who she is than Lao.

Miss Violent Moodswings over here slams her hand down on the table several times and leaps to her feet to shout, "Q'PLA, ALI!" Her good cheer, it would seem, has returned as quickly as it disappeared. Her grin is genuine and fiercely pleased.

Golden rises from his seat again and applauds again, and since she's not on the Rapid Response Team, his enthusiasm would seem almost irregular if not for the way he looks at her, which is certainly not very respected peer-like.

In case anyone was wondering, Miss Violent Moodswings yelling 'q'pla' would be Churas. In case there was any doubt.

Cristobal had none.

O'Rielly claps for the betazoid woman too, knowing her relationship to one of his good friends.

. o O Churas respects Ali immensely and gosh isn't she just so CUTE? Makes a Klingon want to ruffle her hair.

. o O Cristobal thinks "/GOOD/ for her! Need more diplomats like her..."

Turtledove claps happily for Cerene, smiling brightly. This evening is full of suprises.

At his place, Golden "I'm very glad she wasn't transferred elsewhere, I'm afraid I'm terribly smitten with her," Dylan confesses.

Takamura stands and applauds his friend Ali with enthusiasm. He then gives Golden a nod and a smile.

Smiling brightly and waving to her friends who call her name, she sends a special scroll pumping wave to the table where Cristobal and Churas sit before returning to her own seat.

At her place, Turtledove's eyes crinkle, regarding Golden with a quietly tilted grin as Cerene rejoins the table.

Kor says, "And that concludes the presentation portion of our party... now, that we've eaten and celebrated our heroes and friends... it's time to get to the party portion of the party. Dancing, Drinking, swapping lies and the occassional truth. Please join in celebrating life, the Federation, and each other."

. o O Cristobal thinks "Least it ended on a high note"

And that celebratory motion from Cerene brings another rousing round of "Q'PLA!" roared by Churas before she drops herself back into her chair and turns to look at Cristobal. "She and Iliara, I think, will get on well. I hope so, anyway." Her good cheer returned, she looks about for that baghol mentioned a bit ago.

On cue the Ferengi start rolling out huge casks of Andorian Ale, Endilev and other reserve stocks only available on Andoria itself... the music preselected as a overview of the most popular begins to play and it seems the President is quite serious about the invite to Party.