Closing up a panel in his ready room, the newly minted commanding officer of the Devastator braced himself on his chair before pulling himself up. “Computer, hot apple cider.” He said out loud, staring at the replicator behind his desk. The familiar chime of the computer working chirped and soon after a white mug emblazoned with the starfleet delta materialized. Visual steam could be seen reflecting against the light. With eager anticipation, Scotto reached for the beverage and brought it to his nose. Smells right. He thought.