03-14-2025, 12:05 AM
To back up Alden’s speech, and Chertstone’s attitude, and Art’s feral glare, the biggest muscle of them all spoke up as well. Jadaris, a Gorn of over 7 feet tall and nearing 400 pounds, was not someone to be trifled with. As it were, the man was sweet and sensical, and brought a sense of logic to the Starfleet argument.
What really impressed her was his admittance that he had flown a craft inside of a temporal anomaly, something she wanted to request his logs for.
To bookend that, the First Officer spoke up. Art wondered faintly if the entire room was going to say their peace to this young arrogant man, and what he would make of that. “A bit of confirmed information would be helpful” almost made Art laugh out loud.
Tomer was obviously -visibly- not taking this well. The crew was ganging up on him, the Captain wasn’t stopping them (but knowing Braggins, why would she?), and he was losing their respect by the second.
The Chief Medical Officer, who had been late to the meeting but certainly wasn’t late to being insulted, threw in a comment or two. Art thought the vein in Tomer’s head was going to blow, and then Cassidy would really have something to work on. To top it all off, Braggins leaned back and ignited a small nicotine stick, finally calling order to the circus.
“Am I understood?”
Well, if anything, Art could certainly tell that the young woman was a mother. She did not falter in her glare at the assistant Ambassador, however, as the entire room waited to see what he would do or say next.
Of course the gym-rat Chertstone had to speak up, the lone voice in a sea of silence, like the singular call of a bird. He even gave the Captain a thumbs up. Had Art been any closer to him, she would have smacked him upside the back of the head. She settled with shifting her glare from Tomer to Chertstone.
“yItamchoH!” She said instead to him, quietly. He might not understand Klingon, but he would understand the hushed sentiment.
== “yItamchoH” = Be quiet / shut up ==
What really impressed her was his admittance that he had flown a craft inside of a temporal anomaly, something she wanted to request his logs for.
To bookend that, the First Officer spoke up. Art wondered faintly if the entire room was going to say their peace to this young arrogant man, and what he would make of that. “A bit of confirmed information would be helpful” almost made Art laugh out loud.
Tomer was obviously -visibly- not taking this well. The crew was ganging up on him, the Captain wasn’t stopping them (but knowing Braggins, why would she?), and he was losing their respect by the second.
The Chief Medical Officer, who had been late to the meeting but certainly wasn’t late to being insulted, threw in a comment or two. Art thought the vein in Tomer’s head was going to blow, and then Cassidy would really have something to work on. To top it all off, Braggins leaned back and ignited a small nicotine stick, finally calling order to the circus.
“Am I understood?”
Well, if anything, Art could certainly tell that the young woman was a mother. She did not falter in her glare at the assistant Ambassador, however, as the entire room waited to see what he would do or say next.
Of course the gym-rat Chertstone had to speak up, the lone voice in a sea of silence, like the singular call of a bird. He even gave the Captain a thumbs up. Had Art been any closer to him, she would have smacked him upside the back of the head. She settled with shifting her glare from Tomer to Chertstone.
“yItamchoH!” She said instead to him, quietly. He might not understand Klingon, but he would understand the hushed sentiment.
== “yItamchoH” = Be quiet / shut up ==