If it hadn’t been for the crimson colour of his uniform, Sovar would have easily fit in with the bunch of orange shirts that resided in the Security Complex; he was fit, with well defined but toned musculature, and had an aura of seriousness that served him well in security roles. As he walked through the complex, he noted that it was sizable. That was not a surprise to Sovar as he considered just how often the Artemis ‘ran into trouble’. Perhaps that was the problem, just how much Artemis found herself in trouble. That thought briefly ran clearly across Sovar’s usually stoic face.
More than a few of the officers that Sovar passed openly scrutinized him visually; though they did acknowledge him with a polite, if short, “Commander”. It wasn’t just the blonde streak in his hair either, but it was an inspection. Almost as if he were an invader. In a sense, Sovar understood that he was. This security team had created a history for itself since the Battle of the Megasphere. Some of that was during Bryan Crawford’s watch, sibling of Captain Crawford. Much of the rest came from Captain Crawford herself, Commander Coleman, and now Lieutenant Commander Calleja. It was yet to be seen how exactly the security crew would take to Sovar.
Passing the Bullpen, Sovar noticed the incredible number of photos and mementos plastered on the wall; security team’s loved ones, and trinkets devoted to them, adorned the stretch. It was saccharinely supportive, but the messaging acknowledged underlying emotions that came with service to Star Fleet, particularly in the security field. It also displayed the crew’s bravery; the requirement, especially to security personnel, to traverse space and encounter the unknown in sometimes dangerous circumstances.
“Fascinating.”
It was an intriguing move, and not one done to the same extent that Sovar had seen before. He was curious to know how that particular Artemisian tradition started. It could make sense, given the nature of her history, that it started early in the Vesta class Explorer’s service. Though Sovar was uncertain of either of the Crawford’s predilections for sentimentality. Whatever the case there was, yet more, to intrigue the Commander.
As he moved through the Complex, Sovar found himself greeted by a pair of screens just outside the Chief of Security's office. Commendations and promotions scrawled along the bottom of action-shot images overlaid with top scores and best times of exercises. All security teams that Sovar encountered had such competitive natures, and whether Artemis’ environment of professional rivalry was a healthy one, was yet to be seen. It was another example of an environment tailored to the professionals within. It spoke volumes to Sovar about the culture of the team, and the officer who led them.
Ahead of him, there seemed to be another eager officer wanting some of the Security Chief’s time. There was no urgency on Sovar’s part. He had simply wanted to visit the Security Complex, and if the Lieutenant Commander was available, make acquaintance with her. Acknowledging the situation, Sovar moved such that the Security Chief would be able to see him milling about for a moment or two. Then he wandered his way over to the communications exchange to oversee their current work, while still staying in eyesight of the COS Office, patiently waiting his turn.
More than a few of the officers that Sovar passed openly scrutinized him visually; though they did acknowledge him with a polite, if short, “Commander”. It wasn’t just the blonde streak in his hair either, but it was an inspection. Almost as if he were an invader. In a sense, Sovar understood that he was. This security team had created a history for itself since the Battle of the Megasphere. Some of that was during Bryan Crawford’s watch, sibling of Captain Crawford. Much of the rest came from Captain Crawford herself, Commander Coleman, and now Lieutenant Commander Calleja. It was yet to be seen how exactly the security crew would take to Sovar.
Passing the Bullpen, Sovar noticed the incredible number of photos and mementos plastered on the wall; security team’s loved ones, and trinkets devoted to them, adorned the stretch. It was saccharinely supportive, but the messaging acknowledged underlying emotions that came with service to Star Fleet, particularly in the security field. It also displayed the crew’s bravery; the requirement, especially to security personnel, to traverse space and encounter the unknown in sometimes dangerous circumstances.
“Fascinating.”
It was an intriguing move, and not one done to the same extent that Sovar had seen before. He was curious to know how that particular Artemisian tradition started. It could make sense, given the nature of her history, that it started early in the Vesta class Explorer’s service. Though Sovar was uncertain of either of the Crawford’s predilections for sentimentality. Whatever the case there was, yet more, to intrigue the Commander.
As he moved through the Complex, Sovar found himself greeted by a pair of screens just outside the Chief of Security's office. Commendations and promotions scrawled along the bottom of action-shot images overlaid with top scores and best times of exercises. All security teams that Sovar encountered had such competitive natures, and whether Artemis’ environment of professional rivalry was a healthy one, was yet to be seen. It was another example of an environment tailored to the professionals within. It spoke volumes to Sovar about the culture of the team, and the officer who led them.
Ahead of him, there seemed to be another eager officer wanting some of the Security Chief’s time. There was no urgency on Sovar’s part. He had simply wanted to visit the Security Complex, and if the Lieutenant Commander was available, make acquaintance with her. Acknowledging the situation, Sovar moved such that the Security Chief would be able to see him milling about for a moment or two. Then he wandered his way over to the communications exchange to oversee their current work, while still staying in eyesight of the COS Office, patiently waiting his turn.