Posted Feb. 26, 2022, 5:28 p.m. by Lieutenant Commander Ethan Nash (Chief Engineer) (David Shotton)
A week had gone by. On Arakis that was a week of hot, sandblasted days and relentless heat, that merged into each and every week on the planet that, on the surface, very little to endear it to anyone.
Emily’s soup kitchen had operated every day without fail, although the coffee machine that had been left by Nash when he had left the kitchen had raised more than a few eyebrows. Most loved the bean machine that turned water into black gold, but many distrusted anything that changed such a precious thing as water.
Today was no different as the evenings regular clientele pushed there way through the doors and began to take their seats. Dusty, smelly and dirty, dressed in linen wraps with hoods over their heads most of them couldn’t be told apart at first glance unless they had something specific about them. One of these men that sat at a table was clearly broad shouldered and muscular, but not overly so. His hood was pulled down over his eyes as he looked at the table, and toyed with something metallic in his fingers. Fingers wrapped in cloth and to protect them from the sun. For a time, he watched the goings on and the Cadets as they worked stirring pots and calling out for more of whatever they needed, and his eyes followed one woman in particular.
“Coffee?” He asked one of the Cadets quietly who was walking around serving tables with drinks and clearing bowls. In his fingers was a Starfleet Comm badge. “If you could ask the Soup Savior of Arakis to come with it, I have news for her. About her friend.” The mans voice was heavily accented, like the people of Arakis.
Nash
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