::It was an average day aboard the USS Veritas for one Tristam Core. The engineering staff was doing perfectly fine with Roshanara's proposed upgrades to the warp drive--not an area in which he was technically equipped to assist in. He stayed well out of it, his reservations about warp engines mainly taking priority, but he was immensely proud in the Kriosian's work. He'd made sure to say so repeatedly, though avoided sounding like a broken record.::
::When he stepped onto the Bridge, he intended to get a closer look at the specifications of the engine. Nothing would go wrong--it's Roshanara's work, and when it comes to Doctor Rahman's work, the math always checked out (and considering she was practically a warp genius, this was unsurprising). The engine would have been tested to the absolute max before she would have even considered installing the modifications. He had no concerns about it blowing the EPS relays like the very first slipstream drive waybackwhen (the incident that made his head and leg ache when he so much as thought about the QSD's use aboard other vessels), which had left them both with a cautionary tale on what happens when a captain and admiral set a deadline for experimental technology and expect tests to be finished and the tech totally reliable by that deadline.
::So now the two generally didn't operate by technological deadlines when developing new equipment. Which was exactly why the communications fixes he was supposed to be coming up with for the Shoals were about a year behind the "schedule" Starfleet had laid out for him. He'd sent them a polite message that, as project manager, he would not be abiding by any outsourced schedules set by people who weren't involved.
::They nodded their head and apologized.::
::His wanting a glance at the plans was more of a power distribution curiosity, seeing exactly how she'd intended on compensating for a certain thing called the Veritas deflector dish--she'd already discussed this with him once before, but she'd never actually shared what technique she'd planned to use. He could have made Teller walk him through it, but Tristam was still a bit bitter about the whole "got a tattoo of your girlfriend while I was drunk sorry" thing.::
::The Bridge was quiet. Mostly empty, really only necessary officers manning certain stations. But one officer in particular had their feet up on the helm console.::
::More accurately, Commander Blake was kicked back in the chair, reading a PADD, with her feet up on the console.
::The blonde woman (with a new hair cut and colour it seems, hair only reaching the top of her neck and now a more "platinum" kind of blonde) looked over her shoulder to him.::
Core: . . . where's Maravosh?
Blake: Dunno. I think she's shocked somewhere.
::His eyebrows rose. "Shocked" was a problematic definition when used in relation to Blake. He approached the consoles, leaning against the rail next to Blake.::
Core: So, why are you in her chair?
Blake: It was the only free chair on the Bridge.
::The Rodulan blinked, now a little concerned for the helmsman's well-being.::
::The turbolift doors behind him opened to allow Commander Delano exit.::
::Blake swung round slightly in her chair, glancing up only briefly from her PADD (a book, probably) to give him a quick and mumbled greeting.::
Core: Long time, no see?
Delano: It was a good vacation, but I’m eager to get back to work.
::There was a gruff sigh from Blake. In response, Tristam swatted her feet off the helm console.::
Tbc . . .
LtCmdr Tristam Core