Mess Hall - Day 44 - Open like Kirk's legs
Adrian was starting to think he'd been stationed at Utopia Planitia for far too long. He'd got too used to being able to go home to a real bed and real food at night. Not to mention those had been four glorious years in which he hadn't had to do an eight-hour shift at the helm. Helming in transit wasn't in any way difficult, but it had to be the single most fucking boring activity known to man. Or any other species for that matter.
Either way, a helm shift always left him craving something ridiculously greasy to eat and a swimming pool or so of coffee. He made his way to the mess hall and stacked a plate high with the replicators' closest approximation of bacon and eggs. Setting the plate down on a tray, he considered the utterly inadequate coffee mugs the mess hall provided. After some thought he filled two cups and set both down on his tray. There. Perfect.
He made his way through the busy mess hall, scanning the room for a free seat. Ah - there. He paused behind the seat in question and nodded to the person sitting opposite. "Is it okay if I sit here?"
Either way, a helm shift always left him craving something ridiculously greasy to eat and a swimming pool or so of coffee. He made his way to the mess hall and stacked a plate high with the replicators' closest approximation of bacon and eggs. Setting the plate down on a tray, he considered the utterly inadequate coffee mugs the mess hall provided. After some thought he filled two cups and set both down on his tray. There. Perfect.
He made his way through the busy mess hall, scanning the room for a free seat. Ah - there. He paused behind the seat in question and nodded to the person sitting opposite. "Is it okay if I sit here?"