The hug is warm and firm, clearly a gesture that Jim is comfortable doing. He’s an affectionate person and doesn’t mind showing it with those who don’t mind it. Giving her back a final pat, he pulls away with a grin and jokes, “How did I know you’d come prepared?” He nods at the pile of supplies she has with her. He’s hoping to learn a few tricks himself, as he’s never actually done decal and detail work on a shuttle. The only ships he’s flown on the regular have been Starfleet issued, and Starfleet tends to frown on adding designs to their ships. There had been a time or two he’s flown something else, and one time he and his crew had to quickly modify their ship to fly past enemy radars, but those were field exceptions rather than a fun pastime rule.

Pulling back, Jim cheerfully introduces Les to the transport officer, Lieutenant Shaska, who gives a wave and teases, “Congrats on getting our first officer to actually take shore leave.”

“I know you’re not saying you’re all sick of me,” Jim teases back as he reaches down to help carry Les’s bags.

“Never, sir,” Shaska replies back innocently, and it’s clear that Jim has a friendly relationship with the crew from the bantering.

It’s only a short while for them to store Les’s personal belongings in her guest quarters on the Farragut and then taking a transport to the hangar where the shuttle in question resides. A few crew are milling about, enjoying some drinks and snacks and wave when they arrive. Everyone’s waiting for them to discuss a vision for the shuttle before getting down to business.

Inside the shuttle, unbeknownst to them, a blue spark of odd energy crackles beneath the control panel.