((Mess Hall, USS Kepler))
((OOC: I’ve cut the tags Ertmo wouldn’t hear))
Ertmo: I doubt they’ve changed the codes for the old system. If anyone wants to yell at me about it afterward, then I can hope they’ll be alive to do it.
Somehow, he was starting to think he wouldn’t have a ship after this. Or a position in the Astrofleet at all.
Ashwood: Our teams are still working on the pathogen. Our research and information will be freely provided. There is no trade. We don't leverage lives, that's not how the Federation works.
And that, there, was the sort of sentiment that had drawn him to the Astrofleet in the first place.
Ertmo: That means a lot, Captain.
Hopper/Ertmo: Response
Ashwood: Lt. Seleya would need to verify the contents of this message?
Seleya: I can do that, Captain. But Captain Hopper, Captain Ashwood, may I have a quick word. If you don’t mind Captain Ertmo.
Ertmo: Not at all.
He couldn’t nod in quite the same way they did, but he rotated his head back and forth and bent over a little to provide a similar effect.
HopperAshwood: Response
They moved off then, and Ertmo tried to occupy himself with the food, with the view of the ship, with trying to figure out what he might say that would actually do enough.
He was still mulling over it when they finally returned.
Ertmo: Ah, there you are. I was trying to think of the best message to send.
He’d also drained an entire pitcher of juice in the process.
Hopper/Ashwood/Seleya: Response
Ertmo: We want the Zumardi returned to their people, ::he wasn’t quite sure when it had become ‘we’, but he wasn’t going to argue with the thought:: and you are going to share your research on the pathogen freely.
His eyes turned a rather flattering shade of pale green.
Hopper/Ashwood/Seleya: Response
Ertmo: I can give you the codes now, but I think the Astrofleet would take it more seriously if the message obviously came from a Starfleet bridge.
He tapped his fingers together, coating them in a thin layer of silk.
Hopper/Ashwood/Seleya: Response
Tag/TBC
Captain Ertmo