[USS Vanguard] RP: Return to Form

OOC: Good to hear from everyone, and hope that everyone who I haven't 
heard from is doing well!
IC:

     Shar rolled his neck in discomfort as the Shuttlecraft quietly 
beeped and hummed around him. His pilot, a newly minted Trill Ensign 
named... Rega? Hega? She'd introduced herself at the start of the trip, 
but had been performing pre-flight checks, and had managed to turn away 
at just the right moment to mask the first syllable of her name. Shar 
could have asked for clarification, but hadn't thought that it was going 
to be an issue, seeing as most new recruits assumed he was a Vulcan and 
that he wanted a quiet, subdued atmosphere and kept the chatter to a 
minimum.

     Of course, he hadn't taken into account the Trill's outgoing 
personality, or her ability to apparently breath through her skin, 
considering he didn't think she'd paused to take a breath in the past 4 
hours.

     "Oh, I know, these chairs are totally uncomfortable, aren't they? 
My neck is *killing me* too. You know, that reminds me of this masseuse 
I knew back on Earth..." Shar closed his eyes and sighed quietly. He was 
never one to consider himself 'unsocial', but there were limits of just 
how much of one person talking he could take. This was his first 
vacation from the /Ghandi /where he had been serving for the past two 
years, and he'd been paired with his pilot as she was heading to 
Starbase Roebling//to carry onto her final assignment aboard a Starship 
based there.
/
/ /'I wonder if she'd notice if I just dozed off?' /He thought, bringing 
a slight smirk to his face/, 'I might be able to get two or three hours 
of sleep out of it before she shook me awake...' /He opened his eyes, 
tuning back into his pilot's stream of consciousness. She had shifted 
position, rather distractingly he found, arching her back as she 
continued to discuss the comparative massage therapies of Vulcan's and 
Humans, and how she much preferred the Vulcan method of Neural Pressure. 
Suddenly, there was an echoing silence in the craft, causing Shar to 
snap upright and look around.

     '/What's going on?'/ He thought, '/Oh, shit. I'm supposed to 
respond to something she said. Was it a question or a statement? What 
WAS the statement? Something about Vulcan massa...' /Only then did her 
posture, and the tone of conversation clue him into the fact that she 
was, in her very Trill manner, making both a statement and a question of 
the statement. She cocked her head slightly, raising an eyebrow and a 
slight half-smile.

     "Erm... well... yes, the Vulcan massage style is, I find, much more 
relaxing. I mean, it'd have to be, wouldn't it? Imagine just how tight 
Vulcan muscles must get after years of emotional suppression and 
physical... ahem." Shar stumbled over his response, his voice dry after 
hours of not being used. "I mean, seven years between... I imagine that 
were i Vulcan, I'd likely need a good massage therapy every week or two 
as well!" He flashed her a smile, waiting to see what the response would 
be to his admission, albeit indirectly, that he was in fact not Vulcan. 
She seemed to be considering her response, which made him even more 
curious about what was going to be said next.

     She opened her mouth to speak, her eyes crinkling in amusement as -
     "Red Alert. Federation distress signal detected, bearing 
zero-eight-seven, mark four," The computer's voice resonated through the 
shuttle, lights dimming and consoles flaring to life, indicating 
shields, hull strength and power status.
     "This is the Federation Shuttle /Zephram/, en route to Starbase 
/Roebling, /to Shuttlecraft...," Shar glanced at the tactical report 
appearing in front of him, "/Yamdrok-Tso. /What is the nature of your 
emergency? We stand ready to assist and can be on site... shortly," He 
glanced at the pilot, who was calculating trajectories of intercept, 
throwing them to his screen. 'Shortly' being a potentially relative 
time-frame depending on the urgency of the situation.
     "Fifteen to twenty minutes, minimum," the Trill Ensign said, quietly.
     "I suppose our exploration of xeno-comparative massage therapies 
will have to be put on hold until then, Ensign," Shar said, smirking
     "Agreed. Although it might be interesting to consider that the 
Romulans have a similar method of therapy to the Vulcans," Shar snapped 
a quick look at his pilot, who flashed him the innocent, eye-batting 
look of someone who'd figured out a secret, and wanted to let the other 
person know exactly what they knew.
     "Yes... interesting..." Shar muttered, waiting for the other 
shuttle to respond. "Alter course to intercept. Best case, we learn 
we're needed and get there sooner, worst case, we've lost a few minutes 
getting to the Starbase,"

OOC: Well, Shar is on his way. Wasn't sure if you had a planned 
ending/anything with the other shuttle, so I've written you an 'out' if 
having Shar and his pilot show up cause problems. ;-)

Shar (Lt)
On leave from U.S.S. /Ghandi/
Tactical


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