STARDATE 2260.020
Beta Quadrant
Their journey towards the anomaly was delayed. Captain Kirk announced that the Enterprise was within range of a long range communication's probe. Each deck was given a set time to place video calls, trying to limit everyone from using it all at once. Even with their advanced technology, it seemed that switch boards in space could get overwhelmed. Or at the very least, confused.
Amelia made it back to her quarters just as Deck 4's alloted time rolled around. The small computer terminal was already running, a series of numbers and names already typed into the console. "Denver, Colorado Shipyard. Commander of Personnel. Richard O'Shea." She read out loud, opening a channel to place the call. Someone, somewhere, would make sure it got to the right person.
It would be the first time they were able to talk one on one since she'd left and it eased some of the strain that had been building on her shoulders. Avoiding the captain had been quite a feat. Avoiding the doctor, however, was just a touch easier since she was sure he'd been doing the same. She still had to track down Lieutenant Mark Dualla and see if he had taken the maturation modifier. And then there was the secondary environment. Though the room was fully constructed, figuring how to configure all the settings was taking hours of reading through the hydroponics bay guidelines.
All she wanted to do now, was talk to someone. The terminal's background changed to the Starfleet seal, a few beeps sounding and a line of text running across the screen that told her the call was being made. In less than a minute, Richard's face appeared. She didn't know if he could see her well, but his image was crisp and clear.
Then his voice sounded from small speakers on the front of the terminal. "Amelia! I've been wondering when I'd get a real call instead of those short videos." Unexpectedly, her eyes welled with tears.
"Oh, Richard... it's so good to see you." Swiping a hand across her cheeks, she managed a smile. Seeing Richard, the one person she considered family in this new world, was like a kick in the gut. She could have never prepared herself for it.
"Hey, hey. Don't cry." His quick request made a few more tears fall, so she took a minute to wipe her face with her sleeve. When she turned back to the monitor he continued. "Let me secure this line and you can tell me how things are going." After a minute, he motioned for her to go on.
"It's... going. The bay is mostly finished. The vegetables are planted and a small bed of flowers, too." She wanted to complain about everything else, but her time was already too short to fill it with talk of negative things. "I'm-" She tried to think of the right way to put it. "-settling in."
"Well, we have good news on this end. Salo's case has been put on hold since you were reassigned. A few of the contractors, mainly the installation's gardeners, here have put in good words for you. I'm thinking I'll have a certified title for you within six months." That was good news. Richard leaned in closer to the monitor, his voice dropping just a little bit. The gesture had her doing the same, even though they were separated by solar systems."Have you had any problems with your identity file?"
She felt her smile drop. "Nothing I can't handle."
"I know you. There's something you're not telling me."
"Well. Apparently all new crew members have to go through some kind of processing. The fact that I didn't has... roused suspicion. If I work hard and actually do what I'm good at then I have the feeling they'll accept me." Some people already had, and that brief reminder brought her smile back. Th'eon 'traded' gossip with her. Scotty stopped by the bay on occasion. And she'd even made an effort to stop by and see Anthony every now and then. Those few people had a tendency to make her days just a little bit better...
"We spent a lot of time going over answers to those questions. You're still sticking to the story, right?" Richard finally leaned back away from the monitor, crossing his arms. In just that single movement he managed to make her feel like a rebelling youth.
With a small sigh, she admitted, "I haven't really divulged the story. Just bits and pieces."
"Some of those questions would go away if you just filled them in." She opened her mouth to respond, but he continued. Astute as ever he said, "You're going to have to lie some time, Amelia. That part of your past... it can't exist here."
"But it does exist. It happened to me! I don't want to lie about it." Maybe that was the crux of things. Her problems with the doctor. Her hesitancy to push herself farther into the crew's lives.
"I don't want you stuck inside a medical ward for the rest of the five years you're on that ship." She suddenly pictured herself in a white straight jacket. "You don't even mention the words 'time travel'. You understand that, right?"
"Yes, but it would just be so much easier if I could really talk to someone." What she would give to be able to tell Th'eon about the 80's. Of course, he would go on to tell the entire crew, which would lead to Richard's prediction of the padded room.
"You can talk to me."
"Yeah, once every blue moon." When the Enterprise just happened upon a long range comms probe.
"Talk to me now. Tell me about your mom and your many days spent gardening. Hell, tell me about going to a movie theater and watching... what was it... ET!" He smiled and snapped his fingers. In that charming way of his, full of honesty and care, he managed to pull her to a topic that he knew would make her smile.
So she told him more about her mother and a little about her father. And for added measure she talked about her greenhouse. Stories he had heard before and a few he hadn't. A random trip down to flagstaff to visit John. A journey to the Grand Canyon.
The memories, some fading and some fresh, were carried with her long after she had to finish the call. It had been a mood lifter getting the chance to talk to Richard, but she knew that those kinds of opportunities would come few and far between.
With her personal time coming to an end, she looked over the hydroponics bay data padd and stared at the name scrawled across the screen. Mark Dualla. Th'eon had asked her every day how the 'investigation' was coming along and today she planned on having a different answer.
She had to find someone with access to the manifest. "Anthony." The quartermaster had a list of every crew member and the location of their quarters. Since Anthony lived on deck 5, his alloted time was still a couple of hours away. Which meant he would be in the office. Probably bored. Probably hungry...
Amelia set a plan of action, fixing her hair into a loose pony-tail and straightening the collar of her new white uniform. Tucking the data padd under her arm, she began the small walk towards the dining facility.
A few corridors, a turbolift ride, and following the smell of food, she made a direct bee-line towards Chef. He must have sensed her budding enthusiasm, because those antenna curled. He leaned forward, his hands braced against the barricade. Sharp as ever, he asked, "What is it you need?"
"Good food." She said with a grin. "To go."
His eyes went to her hair, the free falling strands drawing attention. Mainly because he had never seen her wearing it that way. With his own slow forming grin, he asked, "Are you trying to impress someone? I thought I was the only man in your life."
"You're the only Andorian if it makes you feel any better." A slight twitch of those antenna told her that he approved. Then again, he was one of four Andorians on the ship. Glad to have boosted his ego for once, she continued, "And yes. I'm going to attempt to get information."
"On our thief?" His inquiry was combined with the fake curling of an imaginary mustache. An act she'd seen him do once or twice before. Life on Earth had certainly made an impression on the chef.
She reminded him of another one of Earth's traditions, hoping that it hadn't changed over time. "Innocent until proven guilty, Th'eon."
"In that case, let me make something. Come in." Heading back into the kitchen, Amelia was reminded why her task was so important. The crates were getting fewer and fewer in number, their supply of fresh vegetables dwindling. All the reading she had done on the maturation modifier said that it would cut the growth time down to a just a quarter of natural time. She needed to get a hold of it and quick.
"Pasta or red meat?" Th'eon asked, already pulling out equipment.
"Can I get both?" Her eyes widened slightly, her expression hopeful.
He tsked her, "You know the drill."
This time she arched a brow at him, crossing her arms. "Get cooking and I'll share." Resting a hip against a counter, she waited for the soft clatter of pots and pans. As soon as the familiar dings sounded in the kitchen, she started. "Well, Captain Kirk stopped by the bay yesterday around 1400 hours. He told me a little bit about the anomaly we're going to be checking out and we should be there in a couple of days. Scotty visited around 1900, hung out for an hour. He told me about a girl he's interested in."
The sizzling of meat could be heard through the room, the smell making her mouth water. She should have asked for another portion. Before she had a chance to mention it, Th'eon perked up. "Do you have a name?"
"No." She said and disappointment fluttered across his blue face. "He's keeping it to himself for now."
"Anything else?" Th'eon set aside some black containers. With a shake of her head, he continued to pull out the garnish, and she found herself appreciating the extra effort. Even with her tiny tidbit of gossip.
Technology made the cooking process faster, but it still was a good eight minutes before the pasta and meat was finished. The Andorian placed a small round steak in the smaller box as she recalled something else. "Oh, and I saw that Ensign you pointed out. She is definitely into Parr. How did you find out about that anyway?"
"How do I find out about anything?" Th'eon gave her that trademark shrug of his, the one that tried to say he wasn't impressed with himself, even though everyone on board knew he was a narcissus. Then he scooped the pasta into one of the boxes.
She plucked out a piece of penne, shoving it quickly into her mouth and avoiding the hand slap Th'eon sent her way. Another small grin formed on her face. "You make up stuff and bribe the crew with false information?"
"You know me too well, darling." He said as he held open the kitchen door, shooing her on. "Let me know how it goes!" The farewell drew a few glances their way, members of the crew finally showing up for lunch. She could only imagine what was going on through their minds.
But she didn't let it get her down. Today was going to be productive and positive. She had Richard and Th'eon to thank for that. Juggling the packed lunch and the data padd, she headed off towards the supply room on Deck 5.
As she passed through one corridor to another she realized that the ship sounded like home. She was able to ignore the soft hums, the various beeps, and could even recognize what most of them meant. It had taken a few weeks, but now it was comforting. Even the gravity difference was something she no longer noticed.
The thought made her smile as the door to supply slid open. As usual, Anthony was sitting at his desk on the other side of the shelves, leaning over a data padd with a frustrated expression on his face. She rapped her knuckles against one of the metal shelves.
As soon as he looked up, he shot her a tired smile. "They running you ragged?" She asked, holding out the two boxes of food.
A small sigh escaped him as he pushed aside the data padd, setting the food on the desk. "I'm going over weapons inventory with the armorer. A couple of discrepancies have popped up." Discrepancies and weapons weren't something anyone would consider good news.
She gave him a small frown. "That doesn't sound good."
"It could be nothing." The words were optimistic, but his tone wasn't. She wondered if she had picked a good day to try and butter him up. He opened the containers, inhaling deeply. "You're an angel, Amelia. Thanks for this."
She didn't think it was fair of her to manipulate him, so she opted for another approach. After giving him a few moments to start in on the steak, she said, "Well. I'm actually working for some info."
"Is it classified, because I'll have to stop-" Her hand shot up, palm out in a quick attempt to stop his train of thought. As far as she knew, where someone lived wasn't really classified. It just wasn't info given out to everyone.
"No. Just... sensitive. I'm looking for someone's quarters."
Anthony stilled, a fork of pasta halted in the air. Then he asked, "You going to tell me what this is for?"
"I have a question for him and I don't want to bring it up where he works. It might be... embarrassing." Potentially on her end if he didn't have the modifier. The last thing she wanted to do was accuse someone of stealing when all she had was Th'eon's word.
Anthony didn't say anything else as he finished his meal, looking torn between giving her the information or telling her no. She shifted from foot to foot, hoping for the former. Then he folded up the empty boxes and reached for his data padd and said, at last, "Give me the name."
After another twenty minutes of chatting and catching up, she was given a series of letters and numbers, followed with a stern warning from the quartermaster. "You didn't get this from me."
Recycling the boxes, she made her way out of the supply room. Carrying the data padd close to her nose, she looked over a map of the Enterprise. It was a turbolift ride and a few corridors away, she figured, about to put the data padd back under her arm.
Instead, the padd smacked her in the face, pain blossoming in her nose and tears welling in her eyes. Embarrassment filled her and she kept her mouth closed to avoid saying any four letter words. She had collided with an immovable object.
Or an immovable person. "Are you injured?" A concerned voice reached her through the dizziness. Concerned and familiar. The pain seemed forgotten as irritation took over. She lowered the data padd, the hallway coming back into view.
As well as the ever depressing sight of Doctor McCoy. The instant their eyes met, the concern on his face evaporated. Well, I don't like you either, buddy. She reminded herself as she touched a hand to her sore nose. He huffed, still glaring at her like he always did the moment they found themselves in the same room. "Damn it, girl." The muttered curse was followed by a quick step her way.
Automatically, she took a single step back. She didn't say she was sorry, even though she was well aware that the collision had been her fault for not paying attention.
She could tell her protective posture had offended him, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Despite whatever negative opinion you have of me. I'm still a doctor. Is it broken?" Her eyes went wide with surprise at his question, her silence seeming to answer him. Maybe he figured she would be screaming or crying if the impact had broken her nose.
His hand twitched upwards, but he quickly retreated as if decided it was a bad idea. If a step forward made her defensive, then touching her probably wasn't a good idea. Instead he moved his head as he looked her over. Finally, he said, "No bleeding or bruising." Yet.
"I'll live." She managed to find her voice, small but with a touch of snark. Even with the awkward tension, she still felt compelled to ask, "Are you alright?" If she'd hurt him, there was no telling how long that would be held against her.
"Yes." Seemingly satisfied that she didn't require his care as a physician, he took a wide berth around her as he continued on down the corridor. She watched him over her shoulder, thinking how strange the encounter had been.
They hadn't screamed at one another. And his glare had been short lived. There was still a large amount of distrust on his end and anger on hers, but he had pushed that aside to do his job. Even if for just a moment. It made her feel just a little bit safer, knowing that the doctor had it in him to be profession when it counted.
Rubbing the side of her nose, she looked around to get her bearing. Since every door had markings above it, it wasn't difficult to re-orientate herself and begin the short walk towards the turbolift. This time, she kept the data padd down...
STARDATE 2260.020
Beta Quadrant
As usual, he sat around hating space. McCoy was days from losing his mind to boredom. All inoculations were done. There were no scheduled surgeries. And since beginning their exploration mission, they had yet to actually explore anything.
"But there's an anomaly, Bones!" He tried to raise his pitch, attempting to match Jim's. An anomaly wasn't going to do anything to ease the stagnant life they had been living. It's better than dealing with psychos like Khan. Or insane Romulans. Maybe he should plan a trip to the bridge... stir up something with the green blooded bastard. Of course, even Spock hadn't been as easy to rile up as of late. Perhaps Uhura had something to do with that, toughening him up to better tolerate the humans.
He looked towards the clock and realized that he wouldn't be able to make it to deck 4 for his scheduled call time to Earth. Sickbay had it's own terminal, and despite being on another deck, he was certain that a call would still be authorized.
But who could he call? His father was on a carrier ship in the middle of the Pacific. His sister was on a freighter at the opposite end of the alpha quadrant. Getting a hold of them would be next to impossible. Even if he called, he wasn't sure what to talk about.
There were no new stories to tell. No battles or planets to describe. He thought back to a few days prior, his heated encounter with the woman in the hydroponics bay. If anything he could vent about her... his building suspicions.
He pulled up her file on the terminal, scrolling down the bottom. Several times he had attempted to access the REDACTED section, only to be denied over and over.
Suddenly struck with an idea, he starting to place a call. "Computer, open a comm channel. Starfleet Academy. Commander of Personnel. Francis Williamson." Commander Williamson had been a classmate of his back in Mississippi. And not only were they on good terms, but McCoy was also owed a favor. A favor he intended on collecting.
The blue Starfleet emblem appeared, text scrolling across the top and bottom. The call wasn't immediately answered, McCoy placed on a sort of hold. Either he had opened a channel at the wrong time, or his friend was trying to get to another terminal.
It was about a seven minute wait before a man appeared on the screen, a grin on his face. "Leonard! How you doing?"
McCoy grunted, but still managed a half smile. "I'm in the Beta Quadrant. Stuck in the vacuum of space. How do you think I'm doing?"
The man's grin widened on the other end as he gave a chuckle. "Horribly bored? Paranoid about a breach? What can I do for ya?" He cut to the point, a trait that McCoy had always appreciated and a trait which later sealed their friendship all those years ago.
"There's a woman on board. Her name is Amelia Wright. She's not Starfleet and she was assigned to the Enterprise just a few days before we launched. I'm wondering if you have access to her file."
"If she's not Starfleet then it's not likely." McCoy wasn't fully aware of what his friend had access to and the call wasn't looking too productive.
Hopeful, he stated, "The closest transport hub is you guys. She could have been processed in San Fransisco."
"Not on board?" Francis asked and McCoy gave him a quick shake of his head.
"I have a weird feeling about her, Frank. Can you just take a look and see what comes up?" Francis didn't cut their connection, but leaned out of view. When he came back, he was holding an Academy issued data padd. McCoy spelled out the name, and
"Well, damn. She was processed here. There's a big gap in the record though." That same suspicion that McCoy had been feeling was present on his friend's face. "Wait. It says her sponsor was Captain O'Shea of the USS Huron. Do you think she transferred from the Huron?"
"No. She's never been on a ship before. She didn't even have her Xeno series complete."
"I can't see her medical, but that seems odd." The man on the monitor stared at his data padd, shooting the occasional glance up towards McCoy. "Don't Terrans get the Xeno shots as infants?"
"There's exceptions and she's one of them." The real reason was why. And did it have anything to do with her sudden appearance on the ship. Unanswered questions had always captured his interest, though they tended to be of the medical variety. This one... this one wasn't something he could let go.
"Well if she's not Starfleet and she's never been on a ship before... why was she assigned to the Enterprise?" It was the same thing McCoy had asked himself.
"Not sure, but she works in the hydroponics bay."
Francis snapped his fingers. "That explains it! We get contractors for that all the time. I was worried she was working in sickbay with you."
"Still doesn't feel right." With a shake of his head, he leaned back towards the terminal.
Suddenly, Francis's head snapped up, tilting to the side. "Why is there a restricted section on her file?"
"See! Why would a gardener have a classified file?" A sense of justification filled him, his friend confirming that he wasn't the only one with restricted access. Usually the Chief Medical Officer was able to see it all for the sake of properly caring for a patient. So why hadn't he seen Amelia's?
"Did you ever consider that she's Starfleet Intelligence?"
Now that was something he hadn't considered. It was plausible, but unlikely. Still, he gave a narrowed glare to his friend. "Ah, hell. Why would you plant that idea in my head? Besides, Starfleet Intel would have at least made her up to date on her shots."
"Unless that's part of her cover." Then the man laughed and McCoy realized he was being toyed with.
He crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair as he growled, "You're an asshole."
"Listen, one out of twenty people in Starfleet have classified files. You have a classified file. You're getting yourself worked up over nothing. She's new... be friendly." Jim had said something similar a few days ago, though he didn't seem to take issue with her classified file. Was McCoy the only one was found this strange?
"She ain't exactly approachable." That might have been his fault though, his behavior not exactly the most profession. Insulting her in the hydroponics bay? What were you thinking? But there was still that nagging in the back of his mind. "She's hiding something, Frank. I know it."
"We're all hiding something, Leonard." A knock sounded in the background and Francis looked past his monitor. "I hate to cut this short, but I have 1,000 personnel to prep for graduation. You take care out there."
"You too." McCoy said just before the comm line closed, that Starfleet emblem back on the screen. He realized that the conversation with his friend hadn't gotten him any closer to the truth, though the idea that she was Intel was new and prospering.
No. You said it yourself that Starfleet would have made sure she had her Xeno. But what was with her classified file? Still no closer to those answers, he looked up at the clock. It was early, but lunch would already be started and Jim said he was going to grab his before their alloted comms time.
Taking off his jacket and resting it on one of the bio beds, he headed out towards the corridor. Rapidly turning a corner, he was taken by surprise when a soft female body collided with his own. He managed to keep his footing, but the female staggered back.
Of course she hadn't been able to see where she was going, a data padd in front of her face. He put a hand against his chest, staring down at her in shock and hoping that the padd hadn't broken her nose. That would help out the issue of boredom though.
Running around injuring the crew is not a good solution. "Are you injured?" He asked, automatically.
The data padd fell down to her side, revealing the one person he had so many questions about. The irony of it didn't escape him and he found himself muttered, "Damn it, girl." Looking her over, he found himself suddenly concerned.
Women and tears ate at him, whether for sadness or pain it just wasn't something he could shake. And her blue eyes were brimming with them. Probably because she just smacked herself in the face with a data padd.
Worried that it was broken, he took a step towards her. And she immediately took a step back. He didn't know if he should be pissed that she was afraid of him, or work on correcting that unnecessary reaction. He settled on the latter, "Despite whatever negative opinion you have of me. I'm still a Doctor. Is it broken?"
He could see surprise on her face. He was a doctor... what the hell did she think he was going to do? Just leave her standing there with a potentially broken nose? His hand itched to tilt her head so he could get a closer look, but he thought better of it. It was a common injury, one he'd seen hundreds of times. A quick look was all he really needed for the exam.
It was red, not yet bruising and no blood dripped down. He commented on that but inside he was distracted as to why she'd gotten defensive. Because you've been an ass every time you've seen one another? It wasn't like he had no reason to be suspicious of her.
"I'll live." That much was certain. "Are you alright?" She seemed genuinely concerned, her eyes drifting up and down his form, as if searching for any injury.
He wasn't quite sure what to make of that, this encounter so different than their previous one. Neither one of them raised their voice, and aside from his swearing it had been... civil. Despite all that, something still nagged at him. She's still hiding something. Don't forget that.
Recalling her question, his gaze shot to hers. At least those tears had dried up, making him feel just a little relief. "Yes." He was alright, the tiny woman probably incapably of hurting him. As he remembered her reaction when he'd approached her, he made sure to walk around her as he continued down the corridor.
All he could think about through lunch was, who the hell is Amelia Wright? Maybe the better question was, why do I care?
STARDATE 2260.020
Beta Quadrant
The pain surrounding her nose was fast fading, her eyes still red, but no longer producing a teary response. She tried to push aside the whole incident, her current task needing more attention than the gruff Doctor McCoy.
No... she needed to focus on finding Lieutenant Mark Dualla's room. The series of numbers led her down another hallway, narrowing down the location to just a few rooms. Finally she stood in front of the correct door.
Taking in a deep breath, she prepared herself to press the comm button. With her finger just an inch from the red key, the door slid open to reveal a young man with brown hair and brown eyes. His uniform reminded her of her own. Not that it was white, but because there were various patches of dirt spread across it.
Th'eon, it seemed, hadn't been incorrect. His room smelled of fresh soil, a scent that reminded her of home and the hydroponics bay. When her eyes drifted back open she saw him standing the doorway, looking down at her with a curious gaze. "Can I help you?"
"Actually, I'm hoping you can. My name is Amelia Wright and I work in..." She trailed off, a sight beyond him capturing her attention. In a large glass case, sitting on a table in the center of his room, was an enormous long stemmed rose. It wasn't its size that dumbfounded her though. It was the neon green color. "Oh my God! What is that?"
Suddenly forgetting every ounce of protocol, she pushed past him into the room and stared into the case. "Uh. That's a Glow Rose," Dualla responded. She'd never heard of anything like that. Did it really glow or was it just named that because of its neon color? Anticipating her next question, he hesitantly said, "I'll show you. Lights 30 percent."
When the room's lighting dropped, the rose was the highlighted view. It was brighter than she had expected, casting a green glow across the table, reflecting across the surface and almost touching the walls. "That's amazing!"
"I know. They rarely last this long, but with the modifier the blooms can last for a month." He waved at the glass case and she noticed a control panel on the bottom. So this was the maturation modifier. Shooting her another curious stare, he asked, "I'm sorry, what did you say you do again?"
"I didn't really get there. Distracted." She shrugged a hand towards the rose. " I'm a horticulturist. I work down in the hydroponics bay."
"Oh." He said with a frown, but then he smiled, excitement radiating off of him. "Oh! I didn't know it was operational."
Mark Dualla didn't seem like a thief, just a bundle of energy, all of it directed towards that rose. She piped up, drawing back his attention. "Yes. And we're behind schedule because-"
Looking between her and the rose, he seemed to put two and two together. "Because I have the modifier. Oh, man. I checked with the manifest before I took it." Now the kid looked remorseful, almost worried.
"Well. Here I am. I'm afraid I'll need it back." Rapidly nodding, he agreed.
"If I would have known you were on board, I'd have brought it back immediately. I'll have to go to the transporter room to set up its transfer. It may not be heavy, but it's too big to fit through my door." Amelia had been wondering how he'd gotten it inside, casting a look over her shoulder at the narrow doorway. Far more narrow than the case was wide...
"Seems like an honest mistake." Glancing past the rose, she noticed the rest of the room, several other long stems growing in pots. "You like roses."
It wasn't a question, but he still nodded. "My mother loved roses. I've only recently picked up growing them though." As an afterthought, he added. "It's tougher than it looks."
"Tell me about it." She looked at the glass case, then turned a sideways glance towards Dualla. "If you want, you can come down and help me load it onto the vegetables. It'll be great to have someone that's familiar with it help me out."
His eyes lit up with the offer. "I'd love to come see the bay." Even though he'd been on his way out, he stayed as she told him what was already planted. His genuine interest in plants was heartwarming. No one on board had really been the type to discuss soil nutrient levels for fun or problems with the water system equipment.
Half an hour passed before the conversation came to an end, and she felt better than she had all day. Mark promised to get the modifier transported by the evening and swore he'd stop by the following day to help show her how to use it. By the end of February she'd at least have tomatoes.
A completed video log of her past life. A call with Richard. A friendly chat with Anthony. And now she'd found the maturation modifier. Overall, despite the close call with almost breaking her nose, it turned out to be a pretty productive day.
