Solal rarely visited the lounge, but lately he’d found himself with little to do in his free time. He still practiced his music, but not every day, and not as frequently as before Achilleas had transferred. The only person who’d heard Solal play his violin since his school days. They were friends, he supposed, and that was why he supposed he was experiencing another one of those pesky human emotions: He missed him. He had learned the art of Vulcan meditation, but he hadn’t been trained as strictly as children raised on Vulcan, and so, though he preferred ignore them, he experienced his emotions more like a human than the typical Vulcan did.

And so he found himself, sat at the lounge counter, with some sort of tea humans would probably find bland, watching whoever else happened to be there at the time. The crew of the Ogawa was quite diverse, it was an interesting group to people watch. But honestly, he was only here because he couldn’t think of anywhere else to be. He wasn’t working, he wasn’t presently reading anything, and he didn’t feel like sneaking off somewhere to play the violin (the holodecks were booked up). Still, it wasn’t an awful place to be. It was moderately busy that night, not empty, but not bustling.

~ Lt JG Solal, Doctor