Ensign August Buccheri - Good food and good company
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MessageCypher
Dec 9, 2025, 9:03:22 AM (3 days ago) Dec 9
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((Cafe, First Promenade, Deck 225, Deep Space 224))
Buccheri: If y'don't mind me asking, what did you all do back in the, uh - does that count as a mission? I'll say it counts as a mission - back in the mission?
ch’Clex: Well I think that’s a question for you Lieutenant ::Turning to Drex.::
Drex: Me? :: He asked after taking a sip of his drink :: Oh... I... was trying to find a better location for the camp... you know, more defendable, better water, maybe cooler... :: He paused, sipping thoughtfully :: Mainly I was trying to stay awake.
Buccheri: Definitely better than what I was doing. I think. Maybe.
ch’Clex: No you did good.
Tanner: We all had our roles to play. Doubt we’d be standing here if we all didn’t chip in.
ch’Clex: ::Looking down in his drink ::But I do have to say that this is way better than that rocket fuel Zogi served back there.
Drex let out a quiet breath of amusement, lifting his glass slightly as if examining the liquid within.
Drex: Almost anything is better than what Zogi called a beverage down there. I am fairly certain his special reserve could strip hull plating if given the chance.
Buccheri: Still terrified of Zogi and his mystery bar. I think Lieutenant Letek promised me a drink down there, but everything I hear makes it sound worse and worse.
The ensign snickered to himself at the light tone of his comment. The subject of the conversation shifted again, lighter and easier.
While he was still slightly nervous since he had been surrounded by people that would nominally be his superior and ordering him about, there was a sort of camaraderie he'd started feeling once they'd discussed the mission. Knowing that they'd been there with him, doing their part. Sure, the most senior officer (Buccheri wasn't sure who was the most senior between the lieutenants) had asked some personal questions which naturally triggered his ever-present paranoia, but even that had started weaning off with every exchange..
Buccheri: If y'don't mind me asking, what did you all do back in the, uh - does that count as a mission? I'll say it counts as a mission - back in the mission?
ch’Clex: Well I think that’s a question for you Lieutenant ::Turning to Drex.::
Drex: Me? :: He asked after taking a sip of his drink :: Oh... I... was trying to find a better location for the camp... you know, more defendable, better water, maybe cooler... :: He paused, sipping thoughtfully :: Mainly I was trying to stay awake.
Buccheri: Definitely better than what I was doing. I think. Maybe.
ch’Clex: No you did good.
Tanner: We all had our roles to play. Doubt we’d be standing here if we all didn’t chip in.
ch’Clex: ::Looking down in his drink ::But I do have to say that this is way better than that rocket fuel Zogi served back there.
Drex let out a quiet breath of amusement, lifting his glass slightly as if examining the liquid within.
Drex: Almost anything is better than what Zogi called a beverage down there. I am fairly certain his special reserve could strip hull plating if given the chance.
Buccheri: Still terrified of Zogi and his mystery bar. I think Lieutenant Letek promised me a drink down there, but everything I hear makes it sound worse and worse.
The ensign snickered to himself at the light tone of his comment. The subject of the conversation shifted again, lighter and easier.
While he was still slightly nervous since he had been surrounded by people that would nominally be his superior and ordering him about, there was a sort of camaraderie he'd started feeling once they'd discussed the mission. Knowing that they'd been there with him, doing their part. Sure, the most senior officer (Buccheri wasn't sure who was the most senior between the lieutenants) had asked some personal questions which naturally triggered his ever-present paranoia, but even that had started weaning off with every exchange..
ch’Clex: Got ask, do any of you know anyone that makes good instruments? And no, not any of that replicated stuff, it has to be hand made.
Tanner: What kind of instrument? ::Sitting slightly back in his chair.::
Drex: It depends on what you are looking for. Sports? Music? Agriculture?
Buccheri: ...drawing blanks here, sir. :: He shook his head. :: Sorry.
ch’Clex: Response
Tanner: Probably difficult to find someone with experience having crafted one before. But I'm sure you could find someone who has the right skills to do so.
Drex: I don’t know anyone personally, but I can ask around and let you know
Tanner: What kind of instrument? ::Sitting slightly back in his chair.::
Drex: It depends on what you are looking for. Sports? Music? Agriculture?
Buccheri: ...drawing blanks here, sir. :: He shook his head. :: Sorry.
ch’Clex: Response
Tanner: Probably difficult to find someone with experience having crafted one before. But I'm sure you could find someone who has the right skills to do so.
Drex: I don’t know anyone personally, but I can ask around and let you know
Buccheri's response was merely an idle shrug - he hadn't been around long, nor did he really have the experience or connection to do anything about it. So he merely nodded along with the other officers.
ch’Clex: Response
As the food arrived, Drex watched the server set the plates down, though drop felt like the more accurate word. The man was probably in a hurry; the place was filling fast, and he clearly wasn’t paying much attention to formalities.
Tanner: If you were having your first meal and you were back at home, what would you choose? ::Letting the question sink in for a moment, Jackson took up first swing.:: I think I’d have to say Roast meat and vegetables. Just because it reminds me of home so much.
The Denobulan sank back in his chair, his glass still loosely in hand, and pulled a thoughtful face as if he were genuinely weighing the question. Then his eyes warmed first, followed a heartbeat later by the slow curve of his lips.
Drex: That’s easy. Whatever my grandmothers cook, it’ll be fine. Kalusan ratatouille would be my first choice, though.
ch’Clex: Response
As the food arrived, Drex watched the server set the plates down, though drop felt like the more accurate word. The man was probably in a hurry; the place was filling fast, and he clearly wasn’t paying much attention to formalities.
Tanner: If you were having your first meal and you were back at home, what would you choose? ::Letting the question sink in for a moment, Jackson took up first swing.:: I think I’d have to say Roast meat and vegetables. Just because it reminds me of home so much.
The Denobulan sank back in his chair, his glass still loosely in hand, and pulled a thoughtful face as if he were genuinely weighing the question. Then his eyes warmed first, followed a heartbeat later by the slow curve of his lips.
Drex: That’s easy. Whatever my grandmothers cook, it’ll be fine. Kalusan ratatouille would be my first choice, though.
The ensign snorted, poking away at his food as if it were alien to him - though the eggs were just that. Eggs.
He wasn't quite sure what to make of it yet other than it was as filling as what he expected it to be.
Buccheri: Definitely my mother's rigatoni pasta. Something simple and neat, methinks.
ch’Clex: Response
Drex listened as the others shared their preferences, prompting the junior officer to also pay attention to the conversation.
Drex: Maybe it's time to organize a new potluck dinner. I did it once, after my first mission, on Denali. No replicators. :: He smiled :: Would you be able to cook something?
ch’Clex: Response
Drex listened as the others shared their preferences, prompting the junior officer to also pay attention to the conversation.
Drex: Maybe it's time to organize a new potluck dinner. I did it once, after my first mission, on Denali. No replicators. :: He smiled :: Would you be able to cook something?
Buccheri's answer was as simple as it was sharp. He smiled, smirking as he wolfed down the meal.
Buccheri: Unless it came prepackaged - not at all, sir.
ch’Clex/Tanner: Response
Drex: ey, of course you can call home and ask for help. I did. :: He lifted a hand in mock surrender :: Though there was also some... creative improvisation involved.
ch’Clex/Tanner: Response
Drex: ey, of course you can call home and ask for help. I did. :: He lifted a hand in mock surrender :: Though there was also some... creative improvisation involved.
Buccheri: Sounds like a good way to find out why they didn't do it that way, sir. :: The ensign snickered, wiping his mouth :: Then again, s'also a good way to figure out how you like yours cooked, sir.
ch’Clex/Tanner: Response
Drex: Either way, it’s a good excuse to eat well.
ch’Clex/Tanner: Response
ch’Clex/Tanner: Response
Drex: Either way, it’s a good excuse to eat well.
ch’Clex/Tanner: Response
Buccheri looked on mutedly, having finished his meal in record time - his eyes now wandering about the cafe, finding familiar and unfamiliar faces.
Buccheri: Speaking of home and eating well - why'd any of you sign up for Starfleet? Sounds like you might've had it good back home.
Drex/ch’Clex/Tanner: Response
The ensign felt a slight pang of something inside him. He disregarded it, merely nodding and rocking his head side to side in nonchalance.
Buccheri: Didn't have much of a choice. Or maybe I did, n' I figured that out a lil too late. Either way, I'm here to stay, sir. Gotta take the good with the bad, right? And I think I'm taking the good right now, sir.
Buccheri took up his drink and raised it to the other three officers, offering a wry smile. It was these peaceful moments with his brother-officers that reminded him why he'd stuck with Starfleet instead of resigning and finding similar work elsewhere.
Or at least, that was how he saw it.
Drex/ch'Clex/Tanner: Response
A thought came to him.
Taking on a mischievous tone and a roguish grin, he promptly turned his gaze to the arriving crowd - a rather noisy party of crewmen had taken up a corner - and leaned in, rather conspiratorially.
Buccheri: If you don't mind me asking, sirs, but there's gotta be something interesting happening with the crew, right? After all, you three've been serving on the Eagle longer than me.
oO A little gossip never hurt anyone, did it? Oo
oO A little gossip never hurt anyone, did it? Oo
Drex/ch'Clex/Tanner: Response
Tags/TBC
--
Ensign August Buccheri
Tactical Officer
USS Eagle
USS Eagle
E240209AB3
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