<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/5sfx9to.png)</div><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">Mess Hall<br/>1400 hrs<br/></span></strong><br/>He watched the throng pile into the Mess Hall one group after another, the buzz of conversation reaching a decibel he found unsettling in any situation. Crowds were never his favorite situation, no matter the faces he spotted in it. And this one in particular, held no faces worth his attention. He’d been against the idea of a ‘competition’ from the beginning. Starfleet did not operate on the precept of fun. It was an organization made for exploration and peace.<br/><br/>Obviously, he did not approve of their joviality over a subject of the utmost importance.<br/><br/>But his opinions had been overridden by the Captain and he’d let the matter go as the chain of command dictated. That didn’t mean however, that he would make it easy for ensigns and lieutenants to have a chance at picking a location that might(or might not) decide the success of their ship’s mission. So he’d gotten into line after the announcement, prepared to put his name in for a chance. It gave the appearance of participation, of camaraderie, which played out well if examined. In truth, he had little interest in even one member of the ship’s crew. If they succeeded or failed, it mattered only so much as it effected the running of the ship.<br/><br/>He stepped forward when his turn came, signing his name on the list and gave a cursory smile to his 2nd. She returned the gesture, and he made to leave. He didn’t do so, however. Taking up a spot behind some stragglers by the door and watching as the line shrunk one crew member at a time. It was good to know who had an interest, and who would stand in his way. And while the selection of teams might be random to the rest of the crew, he most certainly would make sure it wasn’t where he was concerned...