Checking In

Posted on Mon Jan 20th, 2020 @ 11:43am by Lieutenant Dessame Sar

Mission: Character Development
Location: CTSO's Office
Timeline: MD1
1856 words - 3.7 OF Standard Post Measure

Next up, after reporting in with the CO, was the CTSO. With Tundra in his wake, the Vulcanoid officer walked into the security chief's office. "Good afternoon," he greeted as he approached the desk, "I have come to get my personal weapons checked in."

Dessame looked up as her doors opened. What they revealed made her cock her head to the side slightly as it was a large male individual who seemed to encompass many racial traits of species within the quadrant. She saw his ears, pointed but 'felt' from him also indicating something else was there. Also his facial features didn't show the stoic, rigidity of a normal Vulcan.

Shaking her head loose of these thoughts she came back to his statement. "And you are, sir?" she asked noticing his Lt. Commander pips.

"Ah my apologies," Peter said as he laid the bat'leth on the desk. "Lieutenant Commander Peter Horn, Strategic Operations chief. This is my bat'leth, and my kaleh.." He laid a dagger next to the bat'leth. "I am trained to use both."

"Pleasure to meet you sir." She replied as she stood and inspected the weapons. "Very well looked after. It takes a lot of skill to handle blades like these." Dessame moved her hand to a drawer in her desk and pulled out a little scanner from it.
Scanning the edge of the blades a little serial number was placed on them which quickly disappeared. Transparent scanning equipment was a handy piece of tech. "That is you all set Commander. Might I ask where you picked them up? Was it the Klingon home world?"

"The Honour Blade was a gift from my mother when I came of age." Peter had fond memories of that moment. "The bat'leth was a gift from a close family friend. K'Nara of House Corval gave it to me as I was her best man at her wedding. She had taught me the basics and I have been training with it ever since."

Dessamed nodded. "I have always found Klingon weapons to be quite beautiful in design. Obviously they are designed to be the ideal weapon for killing ones enemies but nonetheless they are spectacular. Betazoid weapons are... how can I put this... flowery in comparison. Not a lot of sharp edges." she said gesturing the man to sit if he wished. Her mind wandered to her Cresana, the long wooden pole weapon. It was carved from a deep dark wood, grooves made into the users choice and then varnished for endurance and impact efficiency. The carvings on hers were a Betazoid family pattern, a bit like a coat of arms, a little bit of the language depicting her parents and grandparents, her sister also featured. It had a floral design added over years for decoration.

Seating himself, Peter nodded in agreement. "And not easy to master, it took me years. I am pleased my oldest son is expressing an interest in learning too, though my daughter's are more interested in dance and other forms of martial arts. My youngest son is... testing our patience."

"Oh?" she asked as he peaked her interest. "I do not have any of my own to know what you mean but I know that younger people try to push boundaries. How is he testing yours, if I may ask?"

"The same way I tested my parents patience," Peter chuckled, "running off, getting into mischief... Doing his own thing. I have come to realize that he is very much like me at that age. I got in a lot of trouble as a child. To the point of being put in the brig to cool off."

She smiled a little. Maybe when she was a teenager she tested her parent's patience also, in fact she was sure of it. Dessame was always a little bit of a tomboy, much to her mother's dismay. She liked that she was strong and independent but the running around with local boys and skipping classes were 'not befitting of a Sar lady'. She could hear her mother just like she was being scolded from behind her desk.

"I had a few 'altercations' myself sir." Dessame admitted. Her Starfleet career hadn't always been sparkling. "I suppose the frustration comes from not wanting them to make the same mistakes you did." she half offered an insight, even though she had no idea if it was true.

"I want him to learn from his mistakes, and I want him to be able to make mistakes. But I also need him to understand that he is a child, and that my word is final." Peter sighed softly. "As a child of Starfleet officers myself, I understand the need for attention and we do our best to give it to them. My parents were quite busy when I was young, and I needed to amuse myself."

"My parents weren't in Starfleet... my mother was the governor of our colony and my father was a landscaper so my sister and I had a lot of free reign to run around a lot. Kind of wish they had been, maybe life would have been different." she said resignedly thinking about what fate befell the colony. "My parents were busy a lot too."

"Were?" Peter shook his head as he caught the hint of sadness. A telepath himself, it was hard to miss. "You do not have to answer that, your personal matters are your own business, not mine."

"It's not something I hide Commander. They were killed 12 years ago when Orions attacked our colony, a lot of people didn't make it, and some were simply just taken." Dessame left out the part of her personal attack, it was not something she openly shared with people she didn't know or had just met. However, Horn was a telepath and no doubt would pick up on her hesitance.

He did but chose not to act on it. "I am sorry to hear that," he answered sympathetically, "I assume those responsible have been brought to justice?" He didn't know her personal story but if his resources could be of assistance, then he felt obliged to offer their use.

She felt a well up of emotion, anger and sadness as she knew Starfleet was too late to catch the main body of pirates. "No." Dessame said shifting in her seat uncomfortably. "A lot of them escaped, Starfleet only caught a handful but got nothing out of them. So the 'man' that led them, that caught my sister and I got away but I appreciate the sympathy sir."

"My network is extensive," Peter offered, "I can give you access to my resources, if you wish." He offered a devilish grin as his hand reached for the bat'leth. "Someone once told me that revenge is a dish best served cold. It is never too late to exact it."

Dessame smirked, "Someone also told me that seeking revenge leads you down a dark path." Her grandmother was trying to instil wisdom on the younger generation. "Thankfully I am not as lenient as my grandmother. So if you have the ability to find the man who did this to me..." she said as she felt the scars on her body burn. She also caught herself letting slip of personal detail. "To my family. Then I welcome it."

"I can certainly put some feelers out if you send me some details," Peter answered calmly. "You have a lot of anger around you," he pointed out, " and shame. I do not know you well, but what I have learned so far gives me no indication of a need for shame. We will find this rat, and we will smoke him out. Methodically, and with precision. He will not know what is coming, until it arrives." He handed the elegantly curved Klingon weapon to her. "Justice will be served."

Thinking about this put some walls back up and she retreated within her professional self. "Thank you sir, but you are right. You do not know me well." She replied, even pointing out the shame she felt brought it back to the forefront of her mind. She wasn't intentionally being cold and harsh but this was how she went when things got a little too personal too quickly, and they didn't get more personal to her than this. "I appreciate the offer sir and I will think about your offer.". It definitely was enticing.

Peter nodded. "Orions have no honour," he said, feeling the change in emotions. "Let me know when you wish to pursue this, and my resources are yours. Meanwhile, can I take my weapons?"

Dessame did truly appreciate the offer from the man she had just met. There was no denying that in the galaxy their were nice people, and she had met a lot since joining the fleet but it was always difficult to get close to them. She was getting better though.

"Yes, sir. They have both been registered in your name and put into our system as being on board. Thank you for letting me see them." she replied earnestly.

"You are welcome. I am trying to honour an old friend by keeping up practice. I would welcome a sparring partner or an accomplice."

"I would welcome the company, although I am a full combat and no safeties kind of girl on the holodeck... so if that suits it's our secret. You know what Starfleet is like with their safety regs..." She admitted. Something about simulated violence didn't do it for her. She felt you reacted slower because you knew you weren't in danger... removing that feature made it more 'productive'.

"Now that is a workout," Peter smiled, "I shall do my best not to cut you in half then."

"I would appreciate that." Dessame laughed a little. He was definitely sure of his skill, but so was she of hers. She never gave that away though. "Although I don't mind a little spilled blood as long as your bring a medkit."

"Perhaps we should best alert sickbay prior to a sparring session. I am not much of a medic, despite being married to a nurse and having a doctor sister."

"Ah..." she waved her hand. "A little dermal regenerator will be fine. Unless you actually plan on cutting limbs off me?" She asked pretending to be serious.

"I should hope not, but in the heat of battle..." His voice trailer off. "My old friend had this sick pleasure in hurting me in combat."

"Well when we become better friends I promise I will not show my pleasure at getting the upper hand on you Commander." She smiled.

"Hah," Peter laughed, "we shall see."

"We can set something up later?" Dessame asked. She had some other work to complete and she felt today was going to be a day of arrivals.

"Of course," Peter replied as he returned the kaleh to its sheath and picked up his bat'leth again. "Let me know when you are available and I will meet you in the gym or on the holodeck."

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LtC Peter Horn
CStratOps

Lieutenant Dessame Sar
Chief Security/Tactical Officer