Peter walked from the shuttlebay where the strange Alien was meeting with the Captain and the rest of the senior staff. The large man nodded amiably and smiled at several of the officers walking by, his unpractised smile made the other smaller officers shrink away uncomfortably but he didn’t seem to mind. He entered the nearest turbolift and his gruff baritone ordered it to head to Deck 8. On the old Viking, he’d used one of the many empty decks for his Intelligence Offices outside his official office near the Office’s and armory. After a few moments, he ordered the lift to halt “Deck 12” He said. Moments later the lift stopped and he stepped out and walked down the corridor and entered the Lounge. He inhaled deeply as he looked around, the room was sparsely populated at this time especially during a mission.

He walked up to a replicator “Chicken Salad, no dressing” He hesitated “No cancel that, St Louis smoked bbq ribs, three orders” He waited for the momentary glow before grabbing the warm plate in one large hand “Bourbon, large. Circa 2375” He grabbed the glass and walked to a nearby table and sat down. Peter leaned in and sniffed at his food and once satisfied he used large hands to gently tear one rib away and started eating slowly.

CIO