Bajoran Capital City, 1300 hours
While Captain Yates is up at the government buildings
meeting with the First Minister, her crew is tending to business and pleasure in other parts of the city. Brian Kilby and Brathaw, Xhosa's first officer and pilot, have spent the morning negotiating a shipping contract with a Markalian company. They are meeting their engineer, Jelena Stadi, for lunch at an open-air market.
As Stadi approaches their table, bearing a tray of alvas and Bajoran shrimp, she hears the two of them in heated discussion.
"Risiian."
"No, Betazoid!"
She can tell they're arguing for fun, but she can't tell what they're talking about.
Brathaw repeats himself as she draws nearer. "Risiian."
"I'm telling you, it's definitely Betazoid."
"Risiian."
"Betaz--oh, hi, Stadi."
Stadi sets her tray down on the table and contemplates her crewmates. "Are you guys still arguing about whether Risa or Betazed is the best vacation spot in the Federation?"
Brathaw grins. "Not this time. We're trying to decide whether Kilby's plan to put an Earth herb up over the doorway to the mess hall and get people to kiss him under it is a more Risiian or Betazoid thing to do."
"I say it's Betazoid," Kilby remarks, clearing a space on the bench for Stadi. "Spreading love in a holiday season."
Brathaw disagrees. "I think it's one of those 'all that is ours is yours' kind of things."
Kilby turns to her. "What do you think, Jelena?"
Stadi makes a show of making up her mind. Then she leans over and gives Brian Kilby a rather enthusiastic kiss.
As Brathaw's wolf-whistles die away, she takes a seat and tries not to blush.
"Definitely Betazoid."