Commander Darren Rai rubbed his temples and slumped over his synthale. A vacant eyed hologram attempted to refill his glass, but misfired, dampening his sleeve.
"Ugh, we need a real bartender."
He had a harrowing day of trade talks, moderating the shrill arguments between the Cardassians and Bajorans, stemming paranoia and hostility. His ears still rang. His comm badge chirped.
"Commander, you're needed in security."
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