Ensign Jace Ryen - A Small Fish in a Big Pond

[alongtheway]

((Lounge 47, Starboard Catamaran))

The doors to The Lounge 47 parted with a soft hiss, and Jace Ryen stepped through them for the first time.  He paused just inside the threshold.  The space was warmer than he expected.

Not in temperature, but in atmosphere.  The lighting was softer than the corridors, muted and almost golden, and the low murmur of conversation blended with the quiet hum of the ship.  The scene of various foods lingered in the air, layered and complex:  spices, something sweet, something distinctly alive.  And believe it all, the familiar aroma of tea.

His gaze drifted toward the replicator, and he began to move, measured and composed as ever.

Kel:  Chili Dog with cheese no onions and a root beer.

Raga/Any: Response

Jace reached the replicator just as Commander Kel turned and almost bumped into him, which could have ended with chili dog all over his uniform if it hadn't been for his Vulcan reflexes. 

Kel:  Ensign Ryen.  Feel free to join Commander Raga and I if you like.  

Raga/Any: Response

Time seemed to compress into a single, sharp moment.  His gaze shifted briefly to Commander Raga, and he instantly noticed his eyes.  oO Wow, I have never seen anything like that before Oo  Jace held the look a fraction too long before catching himself.

Ryen:  I would like that, Commander.  ::Nodding before stepping up to the Replicator:  Computer, one plomeek soup.  Moderate temperature and a glass of water, chilled.

The replicator filled the brief silence as the bowl materialized.  Jace accepted it carefully, the warmth seeping through the ceramic into his hands.  He hesitated just for a moment.

Two commanders.

Not just any two, but the First and Second Officers.  His grip tightened ever so slightly on the tray.  He could feel it, that familiar tightening in his chest.  Not fear exactly, but the sharp edge of awareness.  Expectation.  The weight of rank.

Finally snapping out of it, he stepped forward.

Kel: ::sheepishly::  Sorry about that.  

Ryen:  ::Carefully:: Thank you Commanders, I would be honored.  

Jace took his seat with the Commanders and calmed his breath as he looked at the soup in the bowl in front of him, and then to the chili dog.  oO Damn, I should have gotten the chili dog Oo

Raga/Any: Response

Kel: finishing a sip of root beer::  That is Mork from Ork.  

Ryen:  ::blinks once, then looks between them::  Mork, from Ork.

A brief pause.

Ryen:  ::more quietly, almost testing the logic of it::  I assume there is a story behind that designation, sir.

He carefully lifted his spoon, though his attention flickered, just once more toward Commander Raga before returning to his soup.

Ryen:  As you both know, I am Ensign Jace Ryen.  It is a pleasure to meet you both.

Kel/Raga/Any: Response

He inclined his head slightly, a gesture that carried a touch more formality than perhaps the setting required.  The spoon hovered just above the surface of the plomeek soup for a moment before he finally took a measured sip.  The warmth helped grounded him.  Still, his posture remained just a bit too rigid.

Ryen:  I have only just come aboard, Commanders.  I am still acclimating to the Ronin.  She is a beautiful ship, though, and I can see myself being very happy here.

His eyes shifted briefly around the lounge again, as if reaffirming his earlier observations.

Kel/Raga/Any: Response

Tags/TBC

--

Ensign Jace Ryen

Security Officer

USS Ronin NCC-34523

R240303JR2