Aboard the SS Malaga Rachael Townsend was just sitting down to her desk, her hair was dishevelled and like the civilian fleet uniform they all wore it was covered in a grey ash which the Super Volcano below spewed forth. It was clear she’d just come from the field and she was tired, the dark bags around her eyes said as much but at least Starfleet were sending a ship to help them. She’d received word when she beamed back aboard and with the deadline fast approaching she was keen to speak to the Captain, along with the message Starfleet had sent was that she would need to brief the incoming help. This she found annoying, as if she wasn’t busy enough already she had to the Admirals job for him. While she waited she picked up a comb and began running it through he knotted hair.

• GM Narwhal