Yesterday, 09:26 PM
== Launch Timeline ==
Two minutes of peace and quiet was all Tyra was blessed with before the door was chiming. Her blues eyes flitted down, quickly assessing her current outfit of black leggings, green hoodie and black low tops with a sigh. She then quickly sorted through the possible visitors, feeling no concern about any member of her senior staff except the newest one.
"Computer, who's at the door?"
[Commander Sovar.]
"****," she muttered, her fingers briefing pinching the bridge of her nose.
Under less tenuous circumstances, she wouldn't have even batted an eye. Hell, she was pretty sure she'd met multiple previous members of her senior staff while already a few drinks in. She wasn't exactly known for her formality but some times, playing the game to win required more of her. And she certainly wasn't giving this asshole any ammo at minute 1.
Fortunately, years of responding to middle of the night red alerts made her extremely efficient at donning the uniform and in under 30 seconds, she was sliding her foot into her last boot and tossing the duffel bag back behind her desk. Her coffee mug was in hand by the time she called for the door to open.
Whatever hopes she might have had that her half-Vulcan selection might have possessed only recessive Vulcan traits was crushed before the man was even through the door. If it weren't for the unusual shock of light hair that broke up the typical Vulcan chili bowl hair style, she probably would have assumed he was fully Vulcan if she'd met him with no context.
Well, that gamble backfired...maybe Ian would have been the better choice.
It wasn't that Tyra didn't like Vulcans -- she'd successfully worked closely with numerous over the years -- but she was honest enough to admit that they weren't her cup of tea and she certainly wasn't theirs. And even as her blue eyes swept over Sovar, she suspected he would fall firmly into that pattern on both sides.
However, his proffered hand did cause a slight mental pause, even if there was no outward hesitation as she accepted the handshake. It was firm and confident as expected but told Tyra little beyond his apparent understanding of Human customs.
“Despite the brevity of my presence aboard Artemis, I have prepared a recommendation list based on my timely observations,” Sovar stated, offering her the PADD from his other hand.
Her eyebrow went up in what might have seemed like surprise to the uninitiated but was closer to a challenge for those that knew her, though her eyes didn't sharpen to match. Instead, her eyes dropped almost immediately to the PADD, expecting a laundry list of recommendations but only findig one.
...a dry sauna? Is it too late to file that retirement paperwork and hand this circus off to someone? Hell, it'll probably be his in a mission any way.
She was mentally calculating whether this was a joke or not when the commander commented on her office, particularly the wall of weapons behind her.
Her blue eyes shifted up as she tipped her head slightly to the side so that the wall hit the edge of her peripheral.
"Oh yes, it's purely ornamental. You'll find that the Artemis is practically pacifistic in nature," she answered dryly with no hint that it was anything but the truth.
She set the PADD down on her desk but made no move to sit down. "The Quartermaster should be able to handle this recommendation along with any other last minute needs you might have. I apologize for the last second nature of your assignment; I know it can be inconvenient."
"I'll admit that I was not afforded the opportunity to... " Her head tilted slightly as she searched for a word that was benign.
"...to review your packet like I would have preferred to so why don't you tell me a little about yourself?" It was phrased as a question but the formality of the request hardly made it seem optional, even as she motioned for him to take a seat across from the desk.
== Tag! ==
Two minutes of peace and quiet was all Tyra was blessed with before the door was chiming. Her blues eyes flitted down, quickly assessing her current outfit of black leggings, green hoodie and black low tops with a sigh. She then quickly sorted through the possible visitors, feeling no concern about any member of her senior staff except the newest one.
"Computer, who's at the door?"
[Commander Sovar.]
"****," she muttered, her fingers briefing pinching the bridge of her nose.
Under less tenuous circumstances, she wouldn't have even batted an eye. Hell, she was pretty sure she'd met multiple previous members of her senior staff while already a few drinks in. She wasn't exactly known for her formality but some times, playing the game to win required more of her. And she certainly wasn't giving this asshole any ammo at minute 1.
Fortunately, years of responding to middle of the night red alerts made her extremely efficient at donning the uniform and in under 30 seconds, she was sliding her foot into her last boot and tossing the duffel bag back behind her desk. Her coffee mug was in hand by the time she called for the door to open.
Whatever hopes she might have had that her half-Vulcan selection might have possessed only recessive Vulcan traits was crushed before the man was even through the door. If it weren't for the unusual shock of light hair that broke up the typical Vulcan chili bowl hair style, she probably would have assumed he was fully Vulcan if she'd met him with no context.
Well, that gamble backfired...maybe Ian would have been the better choice.
It wasn't that Tyra didn't like Vulcans -- she'd successfully worked closely with numerous over the years -- but she was honest enough to admit that they weren't her cup of tea and she certainly wasn't theirs. And even as her blue eyes swept over Sovar, she suspected he would fall firmly into that pattern on both sides.
However, his proffered hand did cause a slight mental pause, even if there was no outward hesitation as she accepted the handshake. It was firm and confident as expected but told Tyra little beyond his apparent understanding of Human customs.
“Despite the brevity of my presence aboard Artemis, I have prepared a recommendation list based on my timely observations,” Sovar stated, offering her the PADD from his other hand.
Her eyebrow went up in what might have seemed like surprise to the uninitiated but was closer to a challenge for those that knew her, though her eyes didn't sharpen to match. Instead, her eyes dropped almost immediately to the PADD, expecting a laundry list of recommendations but only findig one.
...a dry sauna? Is it too late to file that retirement paperwork and hand this circus off to someone? Hell, it'll probably be his in a mission any way.
She was mentally calculating whether this was a joke or not when the commander commented on her office, particularly the wall of weapons behind her.
Her blue eyes shifted up as she tipped her head slightly to the side so that the wall hit the edge of her peripheral.
"Oh yes, it's purely ornamental. You'll find that the Artemis is practically pacifistic in nature," she answered dryly with no hint that it was anything but the truth.
She set the PADD down on her desk but made no move to sit down. "The Quartermaster should be able to handle this recommendation along with any other last minute needs you might have. I apologize for the last second nature of your assignment; I know it can be inconvenient."
"I'll admit that I was not afforded the opportunity to... " Her head tilted slightly as she searched for a word that was benign.
"...to review your packet like I would have preferred to so why don't you tell me a little about yourself?" It was phrased as a question but the formality of the request hardly made it seem optional, even as she motioned for him to take a seat across from the desk.
== Tag! ==