The promenade of Starbase 86 was packed with every conceivable species in the Federation. Most were Starfleet officers but there were more than a few civilians working their way amongst the throngs. Captain Órlaith Murphy sat in a somewhat quite corner of the replimat sipping a tea and picking through a plate of French toast.

She was about to take another bite when a shadow darkened the table.  She looked up and her first officer, a Trill, Commander Kevan Torin stood with a plate of food.  “Captain,” he greeted. 

“Commander,” Órlaith replied mid-bite, a chunk of French toast streaming syrup back to the plate. She leaned in and took the bite and chewed. 

“What are you eating?” the Trill asked curious.

“Uh… well it’s called French toast.  You take bread slices dip them in eggs with some other ingredients and then grill them.  Serve it with Maple syrup… uh a tree sap… sort of. You know, I don’t know exactly how that part is made. I just know the sap is part of it. How about you?”

“Trakin pie, and some Tarkalian tea.”

“Tea too?” Órlaith said with a grin presenting her own Earl Grey.

Torin settled in and with a fork cut into the savory pie and took a bite and smiled, “Almost like my mom’s.  Someone did a decent job programming the replicator.”

Órlaith grinned happy for him,  “Mine is a little off.  I think it’s the syrup… or perhaps too much cinnamon. It’s good enough to eat but, I don’t think I’d order it again without tweaking the recipe.”

Torin smiled in amusement, “Now, that’s not something you hear every day.  The human replicator recipe not up to snuff compared to a Trill one.”

Órlaith shrugged, “Maybe it’s just a difference in tastes.”

“Could be.  So, how did your meeting with Fleet staff go?”

“We have orders,” the captain replied before lifting her tea to her lips and taking a sip.

“I figured as much.  I got to be honest the crew is getting a little restless having sit here for two weeks.  To be honest so am I. Diplomatic duty and supply runs get a little stale, but at least we are doing something.”

Órlaith nodded and set her cup down.  “It’s neither of those things.”

The commander sat back and raised an eyebrow, “Scientific expedition?”

“Mining expedition. We’re heading for the Delta Quadrant Commander.”

“Delta Quadrant,” Torin said surprised.  “The Crazy Horse hasn’t left Federation space since the Dominion War. She’s on the verge of mothballing.  The only thing that saved her was the refit in 2399 that brought your predecessor on board.” 

Despite his objections Órlaith could see the excitement in her XO’s expression.  “And yet, here we are.  It’s a green zone and Starfleet feels that we will unlikely encounter any real threats. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t any so we will need to get the ship in tip-top shape. We leave for the Barzan Wormhole tomorrow morning.”

“Understood,” Commander Torin replied.  “Anything I should know?”

Órlaith slid a PADD over to her XO, “I will have a full briefing at 13:00 today.”

Torin gathered up his unfinished meal and stood up, “I’ll be ready captain.”

Órlaith nodded,  “See you then Commander.”