Caelian scrubbed a hand through his raven hair as he waited for the replicator. Much as he’d prefer to get some rest after the chief’s battery of questions, he still had places to be. He tried not to wrinkle his nose at the pale brown bar that materialized before him. Starfleet rations weren’t exactly what he would have liked, but it was portable and would keep him full until he could find the time to eat a proper meal. The first bite almost made him regret his choice.

“Bleh,” he grumbled as he left his quarters, “whoever came up with this recipe must have been a Vulcan priest.”

He’d barely forced two bites down before he had to ask for directions to Sickbay. Half the bar was gone before he found himself at his destination. Progress! He tried his best to smile around a bite that had as much flavor as transparent aluminum, but it was difficult to pull off.

“Cadet Weir reporting as ordered for my physical,” he offered, trying his damndest to choke the last of the ration down.