Makari arrived in the transporter room with a scarf bursting with sea-tone colors draped around his neck. He had picked it up back on Earth when at the Academy, on some hiking trip with his classmates. And then it had sat in a drawer all but forgotten about. Apparently hiking could cause a cold neck. But most other times in life? Especially life on an environmentally controlled starship? Well a neck stayed quite toasty, as did the rest of a person... which was why he was glad he hadn't let his flight of fancy get too out of hand and purchase the full parka and galoshes he had almost gotten... the fact it had been fall and not winter during the trip probably had more to do with that then his impulse control did though.... he would claim the latter was the reason of course. It just sounded better.<br/><br/>So there he was, sans golashes. REady for whatever might come his way. And hoping it did not involve a transporter accident where his DNA was spliced with some fruit fly. He had seen that old Earth movie and never liked it much. Those less advanced humans hadn't known what transporters were of course. But they had hit the nail on the head with the after effects of an accident. And Makari knew that all it took was the fail-safes failing for such a mishap... And he would look so not hot as a flyman. Not that he was a speciest or anything. He had nothing against the Flymen of Parsus Seven. He just didn't want to become some biohazard accidental version of one....<br/><br/>He had a feeling Darrin wouldn't want him to become one either. Speaking of Darrin... Makari grinned as he scanned the small room looking for the junior officer.