05
Oct
…“So, Elyos, are you going to finish your champagne, or…” The young Deltan ensign let out a startled yelp and looked away from a large astrographic plot to see his colleague, Lt. Whetu, standing behind him. In her hands was his neglected champagne flute, precariously balanced over his shoulder - and his immaculate white dress uniform. He cleared his throat and glanced ruefully at her, then at the glass. She apologize and stepped back, helping herself to a sip of the sparkling wine. She smiled. This was the real stuff, not the syntheholic approximation standard issue to serving Starfleet officers. No, for special occasions like today, tradition held that real champagne be served. “Sorry, but finder’s keepers,” she said, and winked as she took another sip. “Exactly,” he replied with an uncharacteristically mischievous grin, and turned back to the plot. “Take a look at