trans_9 | Meet N' Greet

Space food.. wasn't generally so bad.

The stuff that was soaking into the tray that was sitting infront of the young Starfleet ensign? It was pretty disgusting. Sometimes the youth raised his hand to poke at the stuff on the tray with a corner he had managed to chip off. It giggled. Food wasn't supposed to giggle.

Muttering a few words under his breath in Russian, Chekov glanced left then right before looking back down at the.. stuff. "Zhis is not natural food stuffs? Is it? I think, perhaps, it will jump off zhe tray and run avay."

"I don't know, but I'm pretty sure I'll never be hungry enough to eat it." Wyn says, giving the glop on the tray a very skeptical look. "It sort of looks like Jello mixed with glue, and that is not a combination that I want to try anytime soon."

"I do not vant anything zhat looks like it came from Klingon space." Raising his head a little the younger man gave Wyn a wry little smile. "Food is not supposed to look like zhat."

Sure he'd heard of the Captain trying various things in the kitchens on the ship, but that was Kirk. He was a strange man but a good leader- Pavel could put up with his little personality quirks.

At the last statement about what the food looked to be made of, Chekov couldn't help but laugh a little. "Jello mixed vith glue? I... can see zhat." Offering her his hand, the youth tried not to blush. "I am Ensign Pavel Chekov, zhough you can call Chekov if you vish."

"I don't know what Klingon space is, but if it looks like that I'm not sure I want to." Wyn says, grimacing slightly.

"Wyn Callahan. Nice to meet you, Chekov!" Wyn says, taking the offered hand and smiling. His name sounded familiar, but she ~~was always more of a Star Wars girl~~ couldn't quite place it.

Chuckling slightly Chekov gave a little shake of his head. "You vould not vant to meet one. I do not vant to meet one, but, eh, if zee Kaptin says ve must then ve must."

If she didn't know what a Klingon was then either she lived under a rock or was from some other world. Most wouldn't have even thought about that but with the past few months? It was very possible. "It is wery nice to meet you, Vyn."

"Okay, so... from the future? I have to ask at this point." Wyn says, shrugging apologetically.

"Do you mix up your v's and w's often?" Wyn asks, trying very hard not to twitch. "And seriously, if it'd be easier you can call me Gwydion." She hates that name with a fiery burning passion, but she's not sure being called 'Vyn' is much better. "Or maybe if you try to say it 'Vyn' and then it'll come out 'Wyn'."

Raising his hand the younger man rubbed a hand over his face clearly saying something in Russian before looking back to the short haired girl. "My English is only so good," he explained, frowning. "I have only been in America for zhree years." His words were heavily accented but better than what it had been. "It is not zee only time I have problems saying zhem.." pausing he seemed to almost to struggle but managed to pull out a "Wyn."

"It is zee year 2258. You, ah, are not from zhen, da?"

"Nope, 2009... although everyone I've met is from the future so far." Surprisingly, this isn't actually an exaggeration.

Aw, now Wyn feels bad. "Um. No, no, it's okay, you can just say it how you were. Your English is much better than mine was when I'd been learning for three years." She picked it up fairly quickly after that, though. Being teased by vindictive English kids is a good motivator, it turns out.

"Ah! Zhen you are not native speaking of English zhen!" Beaming a bright smile at Wyn he nudged the tray out of the way and leaned forward totally forgetting the bashful state he was in a few moments ago. "I hope you do not mind me asking vhere you are from? Your English is quite good!"

When she mentioned it was okay he shook his head waving a hand in the air trying to dismiss it. "нет, нет- I vill try to say it correct zhough it may take a vhile."

"I'm Irish, actually." Wyn says, smiling back. "Yeah, so it turns out being mocked endlessly is a pretty good motivator to learn faster, especially when you're little. What about you?" She can guess that it's somewhere Eastern European, but not much beyond that.

"I left Russian vhen I was fourteen for Starfleet Academy," Pavel explains, shyly in a way. "I do get zee mocking some. A lot from other cadets, but no so much now ve are on zee ship."

Sulu still chuckled every time he had to make an announcement from the bridge and it urked him.

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Another kid? How many did that make? If this living ship was really grabbing them all for missions, she could at least nab more people who didn't look like they should still be popping zits. "It ain't natural, it ain't barely edible, but it ain't breathin', and far as I know, kid, it's all we got."

If the ship was taking kids then there had to be a reason for it. Pavel was smart. He had been accepted into Starfleet Academy at the age of fourteen. Yeah he was still getting teased for being one of the younger, if not the youngest, member of the Enterprise but he knew what to do in a pinch. Looking up at the older man as he spoke, Chekov gave a little grunt barely raising his head. "Eh.. breathing or not I do not zhink zhat it is edible."

Again he poked at it with the corner of the tray watching it wiggle about. "I still zhink it is somezhing from Klingon space."

Well, sure. But all Jim saw for the moment was a fresh-faced rookie poking at his food. "Klingons, huh?" Well, the way the younger man phrased it, it sounded like he was talking about space space - the kind Raynor was familiar with. "They some kinda aliens?" He already knew the Protoss and the Zerg, so hey, why couldn't there be others?

"Lemme give you some advice, kid," said the older man, sitting down on a nearby chair. "When you find yourself in a strange place, and you're given somethin' to eat... you'd best be off chowin' down, no matter how strange it looks. Never know when you'll get the chance to eat again, after all. I wouldn't turn down a meal if I was you, even if it is this slop."

At being called a kit, Pavel sat up a little in his chair. He would be eighteen soon! And he was in Starfleet! That had to stand for something about the whole 'kid' thing right?

"Zhey are not zee sort you vould vant to meet in a dark alley, nyet." Pursing his lips a little the Ensign looked down at the sloop on the tray and near grimaced. Just to show he wasn't that afraid of eating it he tried a little bite and was soon spitting it out. Curses in Russian spat out quickly as he wiped at his mouth and pushed the tray away. "Zhen I zhink I shall go hungry tonight zhen." His eyes flickered between the tray and Jim. "Have you tried zhis?"

Nope. Sorry, Chekov, but Jim's gonna be calling you 'kid' for a while now. At any rate, he couldn't help but chuckle at the boy's description of these 'Klingons.' "Well, I'll be sure to keep an eye out for 'em, dark alleys or not."

"I tried it. I've had worse, though it's up there." Raynor leaned back in his chair, shrugging. "But lemme ask you this, son: When you gonna eat it? Doesn't look like there's a restaurant around here, so this might be all you've got. You gotta start sometime; might as well be now. If what the ship says is true, we're gonna be sent on missions pretty soon, and I don't think you wanna end up on one of those with an empty stomach."

"I do missions already," the youth said with a smirk, eying the tray with slight hatred. It was horrid, horrid stuff sitting there on that tray. He would eat it if ordered to but for now, no.

Son or not Chekov snorted a little. McCoy called him that. A lot.

"I vould rather be doing them on my assigned wessel than on some.. ship zhat is not zee Enterprise," He finished with a few frustrated words in Russian, but finding it was doing no good, sighed. "Zee ship is not Romulan or Klingon. Not even Wulcan. I do not zhink zhat zee Federation has anything like it in its databanks."

The kid was doing missions already? He didn't look like the type who'd seen a real firefight, but hell, why not give him the benefit of the doubt? "Do you, now. Well, then."

Well, that was certainly interesting. He seemed familiar with ships, even if the names he listed off were totally alien to Raynor's world. Fancy that. "Ain't Terran, Protoss, or even Zerg either - looks like we're both fish outta water here." He shook his head. "And believe me, kid, I know how you feel. Don't feel right, bein' here - I'd rather be back on the Hyperion."

He nodded in the youth's direction. "The Enterprise your ship? What's your name, son?"

"I do not know of zee Protoss or of zee Zerg," Pavel admitted, a hint of curiosity to his voice. "Are zhey not part of zee Federation?" There were many, many more races out there that hadn't been discovered yet. It was what they did- part of the mission statement of Starfleet.

When the man asked his last set of questions a small little smile slid across his face. "Ensign Pavel Chekov, sir. Zee Enterprise is zee ship I have been stationed on, yes. Designation NCC-1701."

"Well now, I ain't ever heard of the Federation, so I guess that makes us even." Raynor chuckled. "Can't ever see the Zerg bein' a part of something like that, neither. The Protoss, maybe ... but not the Zerg."

The older man held out a hand to the Ensign. "Pleasure to meet you, son. I'm sure you do your shipmates proud." He nodded. "Jim Raynor, captain of the Hyperion."

Briefly, Mei Ling considered quoting a proverb basically along the lines of 'take what you can get' but another look at the food convinced her otherwise and with good reason. In stead, she decided to offer a bit more direct help not in a turn of phrase.

The unnaturally cheery girl had this to say: "I've been told there's a place called the 'sensoriums' on the ship that convinces your mind you're actually eating something a little less... disgusting. I haven't gone yet, but I'm sure anything to make this more appetizing."

All of this is said, of course, with a sincere smile plastered across her face.

Looking up, the youth couldn't help but smile. A place that made the food look better than it was? Oh he was up for that. There was some interesting food out there in the universe but only so much could be eaten and actually kept down. "Zee Sensoriums?" Chekov blinked then frowned. "Vhat sort of technology does it use to do zhat vith?"

Murmuring something in Russian the youth looked back to the tray once again. "It is almost as bad as zee Kaptin's cooking."

Mei Ling gave him a small shrug back, "I don't know; I haven't gotten a chance to look at it yet. I only woke up a little bit ago, but another girl told me that many of the crew members take their meals in there now." She smile.

"Captain? Were you on a ship like this before?" She'd already met another person who was versed in space travel, and such advancements in technology fascinated her.

"Yes," Chekov replied, beaming proudly, "Zee USS-Enterprise. Designation NCC-1701." Looking about he motioned with the chunk of tray he had in his hand, "She vas not like zhis. Not alive- I do not know of anyzhing in zee Federation databanks zhat looks like zhis."

Then realizing what he still had in his hand the young Ensign quickly dropped it back to the tray motioning with a now empty hand to a seat across from him. "I am Ensign Pavel Chekov, zhough you may call me Chekov if you vish. Most of zee crew sometimes has problems vith saying my name."

"Chekov," she nods and smiles again, repeating his name, "My name is Mei Ling. Or just Mei is fine. It's nice to meet you."