Dining on the Terrace - (Day 1-Evening)

"Thank yah, Mistah Roose," Dorian nodded amiably toward the weathered old cook. "If yah about this evenin', Ah'm considerin' a taste of whiskey in tha medical lounge. Bring yah glass, suh." After selecting a bottle of Captain Bob's Cola to wash down whatever this was on his plate, the medic left the galley for the forward stairway.

He descended into the cargo bay, the sound of muted conversation directing him toward the upper terrace. At the echo of his footfalls, the deck crew's chatter halted. Dorian strode toward the simple table, plate in one hand, cola and silverware in the other. "Good evenin' all," he greeted them. "Ah learned tahday that apparently there's an ordah in place fah tha crew tah be eatin' out here," the medic addressed the quiet little knot of people. "Is that seat taken?" he gestured toward an empty chair.

Vas blinked looking to his crew. “Course your welcome to join us.” The punk offered. He didn’t have a reason to say no.

Serena practically beamed. “Heya Mistah Doctah Adluh.” She smiled. “Didja know that we have another Doctah taking passage with us? His name is Doctah Charcoal and he seems all sorts of nice, and I think you and him will get along good on account of you got doctorin’ in common.”

“Chakel.” Vas corrected under the guise of a cough.

“With two doctahs, one of ‘em should be able to help with your sore throat, Crew Chief.”

Drake choked on his water. “Yea Crew Chief … sore throat … Bad.”

Vas look to Drake obliquely. “So helpful … both of you.”

“You’re welcome.” Serena offered. “We’re gonna need us a bigger table soon, less we get more passengers, they’ll be more of us than there are of them. Maybe we should switch.”

Vas chuckled. “Well, not all crew eats at the same time. Plus I can smoke here.”

“Even though we don’t want you too?” Drake added jibbing Vas.

“I’m sorry seems my ears are going as bad as my throat! Doc! Help! I think I got a case of too much bullshit in my ears!” Vas said making a shot of trying to clear out the imaginary blockage.

“We don’t even have any bul….” Serena started, but the look on Vas’s face told her what she needed to know. He was being photosynthesis.

Both Drake and Vas laughed seeing the comprehension spread on Serena's face.

Serena scowled at both of them, then tuned her attention back to Mistah Doctah Adluh. “He’s in one of the staterooms, I can take yah aftah if you wanna meet him.”

"Thank yah," the medic replied, taking the open seat between the new pilot and Elle, who looked a bit the worse for wear tonight. "Wouldn't want tah be caught disobeyin' tha Captain," he chuckled.

"Ah did not...Charcoal?" Adler questioned.

*“Chakel.”* Vas attempted to set the record straight beneath a subtle cough. What followed was a more lively exchange as an earnest Serena and a jocular Drake each had their go at the crew chief, until Vas cut through with his own retort.

"Ah beg tah diffah," Dorian interjected, eyeing the unidentifiable brown mass upon his plate as Vas and the pilot laughed at Serena.

The medic sniffed at a fork full of whatever this was. "Thank yah, but what say we allow him a rest tahnight? Ah'm certain tah meet him tomorrah aftah we're back in tha black." After a friendly smile toward Serena, he turned to regard the new pilot. "We haven't met, suh. Yah Mistah Valari?" he extended his hand. "Dorian Adler. A pleasure."

Drake smiled and shook the doctor’s hand. “Please call me Drake, nice to finally meet you. I’m the 3rd shift co-pilot. So … I’m up and about when everyone else is asleep.” Buddha help his fine ass if he said, 'pilot' … he was keen on preserving both his ability to breath and good posture.