06-21-2026, 09:48 PM
There was movement on the periphery of his vision, and Sovar turned his body such that he was able to better see what was transpiring in the COS office. The Security Chief had taken notice of him it seemed. It wasn’t long after that she was delegating the orientation of the new Midshipman to another officer. Sovar raised a brow but gave it little thought; it was logical to do so given the circumstances. Still, there was just the barest momentary flicker of guilt that ran in the back of Sovar’s head, for having taken attention away from the Midshipman and their first interaction with the Chief. His guilt was allayed in knowing it hadn’t been his decision, as the Lieutenant Commander could have easily made him wait. And also, the Lieutenant that was called upon to do the orientation would gain experience from conducting it themselves.
“Welcome to my ‘umble domain,” the Chief of Security called out to him with an accent that Sovar could not place.
Noticing the roguish grin on her lips gave him an immediate understanding, and his brow raised again in reaction. Calleja was, to say the least, a character to be sure. Sovar had spent more than enough time studying her dossier. However, he had spent even longer trying to distill her actual personality, which was difficult to do from reviews alone. In person, he knew he would get a much better sense for the officer that Commander Coleman had, in writing, said ‘this woman has no quit’. In Sovar’s estimation, Coleman had meant it as high praise. Though drive such as that, in his experience, could also be a negative quality.
“I’d introduce myself but pretty sure you already know who I am…” Calleja said and he nodded.
“...Sovar, right?”
“Correct,” he replied.
Having already been approaching the office, Calleja’s invitation validated his instinct to casually enter. The air of informality was about what Sovar would have expected from her. In honesty, it was what he preferred as well. Vulcans were often treated with formality, which his predecessors had certainly ensured given their predilection for customs and rituals. Sovar often found it was just another mask behind which true intentions could be hidden.
“Spiced Vulcan Tea, with extra ginger and red pepper flakes, please,” he responded to Calleja’s request for a drink while looking around.
Sovar noted how little Calleja had changed the space from standard. Officers often imparted some portion of their personality when they were granted their own office, putting up pictures or making spaces for all sorts of trinkets, decorations, and memorabilia. It did make sense, from what he knew of her, that the space was more spartan than most. In fact, Spartan was a word he might have even used to describe her; at least from what he’d read about her. The only thing he noted to be non-standard were the incredibly comfy looking chairs in front of the desk. It was a tactic he’d seen before from some officers. Though he wondered what Calleja’s intentions were for installing them.
“You are quite busy, and I apologize for having interrupted your orientation of the new Midshipman. It was not my intention,” he started, intending to show he respected her time.
“With my background, I always enjoy scouting the decks of ships I arrive on, particularly those that house Security. Artemis has a much larger complex than I have been previously accustomed to. Which does make sense…” he let that thought drop without explaining it further.
Taking a seat in front of the desk, he noted that not only did the chair look comfy, it was comfy. Nowhere near as utilitarian as other ones he’d been in. There were two approaches that he could take, given his split heritage. One was to be stoic and sit upright, taking little comfort in the hospitality presented to him. The other was to indulge, accept the amenity of well cushioned seats, and relax in the informality Calleja had presented.
“The sumptuous nature of this seat is quite unexpected,” Sovar stated as he relaxed into and began to lounge in the chair.
“Is this a tradition of yours, to put visitors to your office at ease?” the question stayed aloft as he waited for Calleja to join him, and the much welcomed drink if she brought it to him.
== tag Calleja ==
“Welcome to my ‘umble domain,” the Chief of Security called out to him with an accent that Sovar could not place.
Noticing the roguish grin on her lips gave him an immediate understanding, and his brow raised again in reaction. Calleja was, to say the least, a character to be sure. Sovar had spent more than enough time studying her dossier. However, he had spent even longer trying to distill her actual personality, which was difficult to do from reviews alone. In person, he knew he would get a much better sense for the officer that Commander Coleman had, in writing, said ‘this woman has no quit’. In Sovar’s estimation, Coleman had meant it as high praise. Though drive such as that, in his experience, could also be a negative quality.
“I’d introduce myself but pretty sure you already know who I am…” Calleja said and he nodded.
“...Sovar, right?”
“Correct,” he replied.
Having already been approaching the office, Calleja’s invitation validated his instinct to casually enter. The air of informality was about what Sovar would have expected from her. In honesty, it was what he preferred as well. Vulcans were often treated with formality, which his predecessors had certainly ensured given their predilection for customs and rituals. Sovar often found it was just another mask behind which true intentions could be hidden.
“Spiced Vulcan Tea, with extra ginger and red pepper flakes, please,” he responded to Calleja’s request for a drink while looking around.
Sovar noted how little Calleja had changed the space from standard. Officers often imparted some portion of their personality when they were granted their own office, putting up pictures or making spaces for all sorts of trinkets, decorations, and memorabilia. It did make sense, from what he knew of her, that the space was more spartan than most. In fact, Spartan was a word he might have even used to describe her; at least from what he’d read about her. The only thing he noted to be non-standard were the incredibly comfy looking chairs in front of the desk. It was a tactic he’d seen before from some officers. Though he wondered what Calleja’s intentions were for installing them.
“You are quite busy, and I apologize for having interrupted your orientation of the new Midshipman. It was not my intention,” he started, intending to show he respected her time.
“With my background, I always enjoy scouting the decks of ships I arrive on, particularly those that house Security. Artemis has a much larger complex than I have been previously accustomed to. Which does make sense…” he let that thought drop without explaining it further.
Taking a seat in front of the desk, he noted that not only did the chair look comfy, it was comfy. Nowhere near as utilitarian as other ones he’d been in. There were two approaches that he could take, given his split heritage. One was to be stoic and sit upright, taking little comfort in the hospitality presented to him. The other was to indulge, accept the amenity of well cushioned seats, and relax in the informality Calleja had presented.
“The sumptuous nature of this seat is quite unexpected,” Sovar stated as he relaxed into and began to lounge in the chair.
“Is this a tradition of yours, to put visitors to your office at ease?” the question stayed aloft as he waited for Calleja to join him, and the much welcomed drink if she brought it to him.
== tag Calleja ==