"My apologies again, Captain," Ragna said. "I should hope you won't prohibit me from returning to Coren at a later time once things have smoothed over."<br/><br/>She left it at that. As the ship's negotiator it was her job to speak with the aliens they came across to broker deals, set up trades, and foster friendships and alliances. It was her job to end fights, not cause them; but the Corenan language was particularly tricky. She began studying early and immersed herself in its language for years but the inflections of words could change their meanings entirely. Misunderstandings were unfortunately common, and the Corenan were not exactly known for being emotionally level headed. Neither were the Norse for that matter, but Ragna considered herself above the whims of her emotion. She succumbed to them rarely, but usually to dire consequences once all was said and done. In fact, the long scar that ran diagonally across her lips from cheek to chin, was a reminder of the last time she let her emotions control her words against a Corenan.<br/><br/>Captain Alfhild walked away to sit at a table and Ragna glanced at Kole, swiped another roll from the counter, nodded to him, then went and sat with the Captain. She smiled at Second in Command Kri and merely glanced in Ber's direction to acknowledge her presence. Ragna didn't dislike Ber, but it seemed Ber disliked her because of their conflicting views. In order to keep peace, Ragna often chose only to speak to her when it was a matter of importance. As Ber worked in the engine rooms and Ragna usually worked on the planets below them, the two rarely spoke at all.<br/><br/>She ate quietly, munching on the fluffy warm roll as she listened to Alfhild talk with the others at the table. Now that her own business was taken care of, Ragna turned to listening rather than speaking. True listening, she found, was a valuable skill. It served many purposes for a role such as the one she played. She listened to the idle chatter, the rumors and gossip, the secrets as they were whispered...<br/><br/>The Alfhild's booming laughter drowned it all out.<br/><br/>Ragna lifted her head and her blue eyes fell on the source of her mirth: Fiske. The doctor had fallen asleep on his notes it seemed and they were engraved upon his face in angry red welts. Ragna cracked a half-smile, but she did not tease him. No matter how much she wanted to, it would not do.<br/><br/>"Doctor," she said. "Perhaps you would do well to record your notes on something more efficient than wood carvings. We have computers. You might like to use one."<br/><br/>Briefly she wondered if that would sound like teasing. After years of traveling together, one would hope that the crew would come to understand her way of speech as non-confrontational. But, like the Corenan, the Norse were unpredictable. She sighed quietly through her nose, but the expression on her face remained one of mild amusement at Fiske's expense.