The Galley

"Curiosity."

Perhaps not the most enlightening of responses. Or perhaps it was. Much can be learned from omissions, just as it can be from statements. She advanced further into the galley, now definitely inside and near enough to Nixon without being too close.

"I wanted to see the stars. Far planets and ecologies, distant peoples, histories entirely distinct from our own... Forgive me for being so sentimental, but I've always wanted to see an alien sunset."

She smiled for a brief second, then nodded slightly and was back to normal. To an outside observer, it would seem strangely out of character for her, as if she'd just had an emotional moment of the sort she rarely expressed. Perhaps she had. Perhaps being in space, away from those who knew her, had made her feel slightly freer to be honest about herself. Or maybe she was still collecting data.

Analysis of the foodstuffs available revealed little. Pretty generic supplies, optimized primarily for long-term storage and nutrient density, though, fortunately, not entirely. There were a decent number of things clearly chosen to provide interesting meals, as opposed to simply maintaining biological functions. In particular, a supply of chocolate would need to be kept from falling entirely into the hands of certain members of the crew - Ms. Quinn and the young mechanic came to mind. Perhaps better they weren't immediately made aware of it...

Wait, "young"? The age difference was only one year.

Minerva took a moment to note that thought for later analysis, then turned away from the promptly-closed cabinet where she'd found the chocolate and back to Nixon.

"Macaroni would be nice. Thank you, Mr. Moreau."

She gave a slight bow, a habitual gesture of respect she'd picked up from her parents. But a slight smile was, to a particularly observant observer, visible on her face. She knew it would bother him, and was perhaps enjoying -

"And you?", she asked before she could finish that thought. "What brings you here?"

OOC: Artik, you got the location wrong, and forgot to tag Nixon. Also, formatting hiccup - you have [color-teal] where there should be an = instead of a - and it's making the color not show up. Also, for the record, italicized things here are thoughts, not things said out loud, which I'd always use quotation marks for. (I don't know the conventions here, so I thought it better to be explicit.)

Doc.

Well, it could be worse.

She nodded politely, another one of her habitual gestures of respect. There was a time, many years ago, when she'd have scoffed at such a simple meal. Putting herself through medical school had forced that attitude to change. Still, presentation could use some work - it wasn't bad, but even space food could be elegant. She made a note to check when she'd have kitchen duty, and what exactly she'd have available.

"Thank you." She gave him a brief, polite smile, then started in on the food. It was satisfactory.

And yet she found herself distracted by the view through the window. In part, she found herself wondering how this was safe. Transparent metal, or perhaps a force field? Neither was terribly uncommon technology, but either would seem a bit of a waste. On the other hand, while it could be more efficiently done with a camera and a viewscreen, she hoped that wasn't the case. It would ruin the magic of watching the world falling behind, as its children reached beyond the cradle and ventured away from their old home.

Goodbye, mom.

"Ricky Gordon."

That was his name, yes? Minerva found herself embarrassingly unsure. She'd neglected to commit it to memory as she had with the others, and though she was pretty sure she had it right, she wasn't entirely so. She'd kind of glanced over him until now, and that bothered her. He was so... Subtle. Difficult to notice. Evasive.

Now why does that sound so familiar?

"Please, join us. There's no need to be afraid."

More to the point, the crew would need to be united on this mission. Being shy and quiet wasn't exactly a problem, in her mind - were it, it would be exceptionally hypocritical. If he wanted to keep to himself, that was his prerogative. On the other hand, making connections around here was going to be important, and perhaps this was one she should forge.

Also, as another science-y type, he'd probably have interesting things to say, and so befriending him just made sense. Perhaps the young mechanic would too, though she was a little loud for Minerva's tastes-

Young. Again, that strange word had snuck in. Odd.

Noting some hesitation on his part, she gestured to a nearby chair and again tried to convince him. "You're not interrupting anything. We were just talking about beauty."

A statement as meaningless as it was poetic.