Ensign August Buccheri - Relaxation

[MessageCypher]

(Underdetermined amount of time later, USS Eagle Base Camp)

Buccheri: But before that, you writing something? You write a bunch, but that looks like a report. Or a letter. :: He hazarded a guess :: For later, when we get comms back - so, parents? Fri- :: He coughed, suppressing a snicker :: Friends?

Favon: It's for Vharo, August. ::She shook her head at him, grabbing the PADD:: You know, Orion, the one you keep calling a pirate, the one who kept you from failing half of your classes at the Academy? We keep a frequent correspondence and I'm drafting something to explain our silence by the time we get to a functioning comms buoy. Do you have noteworthy to add regarding our present situation that you feel she should know?

Favon gave the human a look. August returned the look with a simple shrug.

Buccheri: Heard the chief engineer say all the dilithium - you know, stuff crucial to warp cores - are all just gone. Kaput. Just like that.

Favon: Uh huh, would you like to elaborate or do you think she'll understand the point you're trying to make without the slightest shred of context?

Bucheri: She's smarter than me, for sure. :: He shrugged, before smiling at her :: Probably smarter than you too, since she did tutor me into passing, right?

She flared her nostrils, typing out the remainder of the message. Buccheri would have reviewed it after the fact, without Favon's knowledge. Wouldn't do well to his image to be all weak and compassionate.

oO Learned my lesson already. Oo

The thought washed over him as he continued observing his friend with a lazy grin. Nevertheless she pushed the PADD over to him.

Favon: Read it over, let me know if you feel I am omitting anything.

Buccheri took up the PADD, giving it a few idle swipes. His eyes glazed over as he looked through the almost report-like structure of the letter. A smile crept across his face as he reached the end of the letter with the signature..

Buccheri: You even kept the send off. I'm so touched, my dear ol' buddy ol' pal ol' friend.

Favon: Response

The ensign wiped an invisible tear from his face, before looking back up at the Vulcan.

Buccheri: So, whaddya think about the news that the whole of known space is stranded like we are?

Despite the easy tone, there was some sort of worry in his expression. The ensign rubbed his thumb against his index and middle fingertips - a telltale sign that both she and their mutual friend were privy to after that incident in the academy.

Favon: Response

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Ensign August Buccheri

Tactical Officer
USS Eagle

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