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Day 08: [1900 hrs.] Knock Knock

[Zyrao Natauna | Tactical is my Home | Another Fucking Meeting | We Can Collaborate | Assets in All Forms]
@Fife





Zyrao adjusted the leather jacket that clung to her upper body.  It was a short jacket, ending at her waist instead of all the way down by her hips.  It had been pulled over her normal tank top with the Klingon logo on it.  The jacket had a combadge now and it glistened brightly from the worn leather jacket that she had found in some kind of thrift store down on the surface.  The jacket was made out of Klingon animal leather.  It was old though, and hadn't originally been hers but it fit her muscled frame well enough.  She wore the logo of both the places she allied herself with.  She was the Liaison between both the world and thus she represented them both as equally as she could.  The El-Aurian turned the corner and continued heading down the pathway towards her destination.  There was something she needed to do, and that was meet with Lieutenant Commander Cross and find out if she could talk to him about the Klingon information and the things that she was doing to bridge the gap between the two.

She also wanted to pick his brain about tactical and see if she could perhaps be allowed to work with him from time to time.  She knew that she would like having more things than just one to do when they left.  How often someone was going to need her Klingon skills once they left the planet seemed like it would be something unnecessary.  So, she needed to find something to keep her mind busy and her talents put to use as much as possible.

So it was two-fold what she was doing here this evening.

Finally, she reached the Office of the Chief of Tactical.  She hoped that this went well.  She found that there were two types of men.  Those that were secretly (or not so secretly) attracted to her and enjoyed her talents, and those that were terrified of her and therefore found her intimidating.  She wasn't sure which one Cross would be, she hoped that it would go well.  Zyrao just wanted to be helpful to the ship and that was something that she  hoped she could accomplish here with the Vulcan that she needed to speak with this evening.  The message had come through a couple days ago, and she had responded quickly penciling him into her busy schedule.  She was trying to find and make down time for herself as well so that she didn't get burnt out.  So far, she had managed well enough.

She pinged the button on the side wall of the door.  When she heard the almost-distracted voice from within tell her to enter, she did so.  Stepping forward, the door opened in front of her allowing her entrance into the office itself.  The only person in the room was the Vulcan, she had heard tales of his battles on the Versant.  There were rumors, and some of them came laced with truth, after asking questions and hearing multiple stories she was able to pull what was actually shit and what was actually truth out of the whole story and found herself rather impressed by the man's actions.  Him and one Lieutenant Commander Blue Tiran, an odd choice for a name, but she too had been thrown around with adjectives like hero.  Both of them had gone above and beyond the call of duty and performed beautifully.  She wondered if Ives was planning anything to celebrate them, and if she should mention it.  But, right now, it was about her meeting the man known as Cross.

“Good evening.” she stated.  Zyrao had a presence.  The kind of intimidating one that was caused by her muscular body, the fact that she was covered in tattoos, and the fact that while she was a slight woman with short hair, she filled up the room with her sheer ego.  There was very little that could shake the woman who stood before the Vulcan shoulders back and ready to take on whatever this meeting would entail.

“Zyrao Natauna.” she said holding out her hand because she had learned through various meetings here on the Federation starship that some of these officers preferred to shake hands over other forms of greeting.  “Thank you for meeting with me late in the day.  My schedule is probably just as hectic as your own.”

Re: EPIL: S [D08|1900] Knock Knock

Reply #1 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Chief Tactical Officer’s Office | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @BZ
[Show/Hide]
Cross sighed as he reached up with his organic hand and pinched the bridge of his nose with forefinger and thumb, the digits feeling the folds of his Bajoran nasal ridges as they put pressure eon the area. His artificial hand dropped the PADD he had been holding, letting the thing clatter to his desk. More reports, more delays on the resupply promised by their gracious hosts. For all the assistance that had apparently been promised by the KDF and the Aldeans, the bastards certainly seemed less than willing to honour those promises.

Bloody Klingons… Cross grumbled inwardly, shaking his head and letting his hand drop to rest atop his deck. It had been bad enough when he’d just had Khorin to deal with. Now they had and entire system worth of them, or at least however many were posted there to protect this system.

Too fucking many… Cross continued his silent, inward grumbling as he rose to his feet, making for the replicator. He considered ordering something stronger than coffee, and significantly more alcoholic, but thought better of it. The alcohol wouldn’t do a damn thing for him, not with his Vulcan physiology, but the practice would likely still be frowned upon by most officers. Better to stick to coffee until he knocked off and headed back to his quarters. That decision made, he had been on the verge of ordering his coffee when the door chimed, and he looked over at the doors with a quizzical glance.

”Computer, time.”

[The time is currently 1900 hours.] Came Thea’s reply, the time triggering Cross’ memory.

”Enter.” He called to the door, turning to face it properly as the doors hissed open and his visitor entered. He’d lost track of time, and so had not been expecting their new Klingon Liaison to be here so soon.

The woman who strode through those doors stood a good few inches shorter than himself, and sported a black tank top with a Klingon emblem emblazoned on it, over which she wore what looked like a leather jacket with a Starfleet combadge affixed to it. She had striking grey eyes, hair cropped short and, from what Cross could see, a myriad of tattoos covering her skin. All in all not what Cross would commonly expect from someone working for Starfleet, but then Ms. Natauna wasn’t really working for Starfleet. Nor, technically, were any of them since they were being hunted by Starfleet. As Ms. Natauna entered his office and stopped, offering a greeting as she did so, Cross couldn’t help but notice the manner in which she carried herself, the woman’s presence seeming to fill the room. He supposed that could be attributed to working with Klingons for long enough, though it could stem from other reason as well. That long-running involvement with Klingons led Cross to feel cautious, even if he was intrigued by the woman, as he had a less than flowery history in dealing with Klingons.

”Zyrao Natauna” She said by way of introduction, offering her hand to shake.

”Cross.” Cross hesitated a moment, then took her hand and shook. ”No second name.” He added with a lop-sided grin, noting that this Zyrao Natauna had a very firm grip, likely also born from living with Klingons for so long. Cross kept his pale blue eyes on hers as they shook, his head seeming awash with the strange is vague sensation of another presence. This other presence, while faint, seemed to carry with it a myriad of feelings; Weariness, alienation, boredom and uncertainty flitted about at the periphery of his awareness, and Cross did his best to ignore them as Zyrao let go of his hand and spoke again, thanking him for meeting with her at such a late hour. As soon as she had let go the sensation had disappeared, and Cross found himself better about to concentrate.

”No need to thank me, Ms. Natauna. Due to recent… events… I find myself needing a good deal less sleep than I used to, and therefore I’ve been in the habit of annoying my staff with late meetings. It seems only fair I allow someone else to do the same to me.” Cross grinned again and gestured to the chair positioned before his desk. ”Please, sit down. Something to drink?” The question asked, Cross turned to the replicator and placed her order, then ordered a coffee for himself. Once the drinks had materialized, he brought Zyrao hers, leaning forward and carefully placing her drink on the desk and stealing a glance at the Klingon Liaison Officer as he did so. She was quite attractive, he had to admit, straightening and moving around behind her as he fought the hint of a blush that threatened to rise in his cheeks. He moved back into her range of view and made his way to his own seat, placing his own drink on the desktop and lowering himself into his chair.

”In fact it’s me who should be thanking you, Ms. Natauna. We’ve been having a bit of trouble with our hosts, and I thought you might have most success in resolving them than we’ve had.” The hint of a sour smile ghosted across Cross’ features for a moment as he continued. ”I’m afraid diplomacy has never been one of my strong suits, nor has dealing with hajari Klingons.”


Kardai Translation:
Hajari - Fucking

Re: EPIL: S [D08|1900] Knock Knock

Reply #2 –
[Zyrao Natauna | Vulcans; Strange Creatures | One Hand Down | Battle Scars | Klingon Diplomacy]
@Fife





He hesitated at her extended her hand, and Zyrao's face stayed plain as she waited to see if he would take it.  It would not offend her if he didn't.  She was used to bumping chests, fists, and all sorts of things with the Klingon.  There was no set way to say hello, and most of the time there were a lot of emotions involved.  Whatever it was, though, she didn't much mind as long as they were both respecting one another in the beginning.  She could not stand disrespect from the get go when neither party had done anything to deserve it yet.  Cross took her hand finally and shook it, stating his name and there was no pair to it.  It was just Cross.  She gave a simple and quick nod to him before letting go of his hand having learning there was a length of time before it became awkward and began to mean less 'hello' and more emotions that she did not want to convey here.

He turned from her and stated that there was no  need to thank him for the late hour, as he needed far less sleep than he had once, due to recent events.  Her brow rose curiously and it wasn't hard for her to put a couple things together.  She had heard rumblings about a Cross, a Blue, a Klingon, and some others for being outrageously brave and going above and beyond on the Versant.  Odd names, for sure, but she doubted there was more than one Cross on board.  Some were used in the place of the word 'hero' and she found herself quite curious about who Cross was and what he had fully done on the Versant.  Though she supposed now was not the time to ask, at least, not until business was settled.

“I imagine some of the Versant has impacted you as well as the physiological changes.” she admitted though she didn't really know if that was the case or not.  He gestured to the chair across his desk bidding her to have a seat and asking if she would prefer something to drink.  She thought about what she would appreciate, because she was over tired of the tea that came out of the replicator as just plain nasty.  It looked like dirty dish water, and tasted about the same.  “Just water, thank you, chilled.” she stated as she sat down in the some what comfortable chair that had been offered to her.  She leaned forward and took the offered water when it was placed in front of her, having already thanked him, she felt doing so again was a waste.  So she didn't bother with it a second time.

She sipped the water and watched the man as he busied himself behind the desk.  Her brow rose, as she realized that he was actually blushing.  A slight tilt to her head, only showed her curiosity, but she didn't voice anything.  She didn't know him well enough to jest with him just yet and this was a meeting so she was trying to remain professional.  Maybe if it was a different time where it was more laid back.  He told her that he should be thanking her, and her head tilted in wonderment for a moment waiting to see how this was going to play out.  He explained they had been having issues with their hosts and he thought she might have more success in resolving the issues than he had. 

The sour smile on his face told her just how much he had probably tried many avenues and the Klingons had either not been responsive or they had been outright rude.  “It must be frustrating if you are reaching out to me.” she stated calmly.  Diplomacy, it seemed, was not one of his strong suits nor was dealing with Klingon.  She grinned at the curse word he dropped and leaned over to the side wondering how a  Vulcan knew Cardasi.  But, that was a story for another time, the fact that she knew what it meant and hadn't needed a UT would probably would interest him as well, though she was curious if he would ask.

“Of course I am willing to help you with the Klingon.” she stated simply and looked over at him.  “I admit I had actually wanted to approach you as well, because I have been a tactical officer longer than most of your officers have been alive.  While I have been slated for a Klingon Liaison I would also like to seek your permission to work along side Tactical when I can be of use.” she admitted.

With that off her chest, she looked into the eyes of Cross.

“What exactly is the problem with the Klingon?”

Re: DAY 08: [1900 hrs] Knock Knock

Reply #3 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Chief Tactical Officer’s Office | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @BZ
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Cross only nodded as Zyrao voiced her suspicion that the Versant had had more impact that just the physiological, opting not to comment to prevent the conversation being sidetracked by any discussion of the events aboard that ship. He didn’t know Zyrao Natauna, and so wasn’t about to reveal much in the way of personal struggles to her. Thankfully, she let it end there, turning her attention to the business at hand.

Once they were both seated in their chairs and she had stated her willingness to help him with the Klingons, she surprised him by bringing up another matter. She claimed to have been a tactical officer for longer than most of their officers had been alive, and now wished to work along the Theurgy’s Tactical department. The idea gave Cross pause, the Vulcan raising his mug and taking a sip of his coffee as he thought about the request. He hadn’t yet answered when she continued, this time asking what the problem with the Klingons was. Cross’ mouth quirked a bit at that as he lowered his mug, regarding the heavily tattooed woman seated across from him with an almost curious expression.

You mean besides the fact that they’re Klingons? Cross thought to himself, fighting the urge to shake his head. All they seem to do is bark about honour and glory and then renege on their promises.

”We can certainly discuss your involvement with the Tactical department, Miss Natauna. Someone with your long experience would almost certainly be an asset.” Cross sighed, a slight smile touching the corners of his lips. ”As for the Klingons, well…” Cross placed both hands on the desk before him, interlacing his fingers as he tried to come up with a diplomatic way of phrasing what came next. ”While our hosts have been very generous with helping in repairs, even going to far a to provide up with additional torpedo launchers to outfit the Helmet, they haven’t been so forthcoming with the promised resupply.” Cross chuckled and shook his head slightly. ”I don’t see how they could think that more launchers would do us any hajari good when we still don’t have the torpedoes to hajari launch from them. Lieutenant T'Less has been trying to speak with the our hosts about the promised munitions, and I fear the experience has left her wanting to beat her head against a wall.” Cross allowed himself a slight smile then, and took up his mug once more. Taking a long pull of the dark, bitter liquid, Cross held the mug hovering in front of his chest as he continued. ”I was hoping perhaps you might have more success in… reminding our hosts of the promised munitions. I’m starting to get the feeling they want us to be like a toothless dog. All bark, no bite. Or I suppose for them it would be a targ. Haja, whatever.” Cross lowered his mug then, taking up a PADD in it’s place and keying the screen to life. Once he had pulled up the relevant data, he held the PADD out to Zyrao. ”This is a list of the supplies we were promised by the Klingons and the Aldeans. If you could, perhaps, remind our hosts that there is no honour in shouting empty promises to their allies, I would be grateful.”


Kardai Translation:
Hajari – Fucking
Haja – Fuck

Re: Day 08: [1900 hrs.] Knock Knock

Reply #4 –
[Zyrao Natauna | An Odd Request | Asking Anyway | Give Me Purpose Outside Paperwork | I was Never Made for Desk Jobs]
@Fife




He paused when she asked her question, Zyrao was not offended in the least, it showed that he had a solid head on his shoulders.  She didn't think that Ives would put someone rash in this spot, but someone that was thoughtful and thorough.  Someone that paid attention to what was going on and what would be better for his team, this ship, and his job title.  This was an important moment, someone that was too rash was going to end up having a hard time keeping everyone, and the ship, alive.  That wasn't what was needed here, the Theurgy seemed to have a issue with staying alive on it's own it didn't need further assistance with that.  Right now, they needed someone with a cool head on his shoulders and someone willing to do what was necessary.  She assumed that this was why he was the chief of Tactical and why she was sitting here right now across from him.

Calmly, he admitted they could discuss her involvement with his department and she gave a quick nod.  She didn't expect, since she had blind sided him with the request, that he would just take her into his department without knowing much about her yet.  She knew that much of the hubbub about the ship about her was all rumors and heresay.  Many of it had small grains of truth in it, most of it was over aggrandized because of the sheer amount of ego that she walked around with.  She could tell that she intimidated people that weren't used to being intimidated.

Cross began to speak of the Klingons, having been generous in helping with repairs and providing additional weaponry to the ship, they had not given the promised supplies that they had initially agreed on.  Zyrao's brow rose for a moment, Klingon were all about honor, pride, and being true to their word.  So, either there was something going on, they had forgotten, or they were too busy doing their more honorable activities.  You had to give the Klingon something to work for, something that made them feel like a warrior.  Breathe life into the culture that they had only known since birth.  They were not human, they were certainly not Vulcan, and thus may be where the problem lay.

A Lieutenant T'Less had been trying to speak with the host about gaining the promised munitions and yet it was unsucessful.  Zyrao nodded, already her face showed that she not only had an inkling of the problem but how to fix it as well.  He wondered if she could talk to them, and see if they could give the promised supplies.  He pulled a PADD off his desk and handed it over to the Liaison, who leaned forward and took it gently from him leaning back to thumb through the long list of supplies still waiting to be received.

“I am certainly capable of that.” she explained simply.  She stood up and crossed around the desk, grabbing the back of the chair she had used and dragging it across the Fleet issued carpet until it came to rest next to Cross.  She didn't apologize for invading his personal space, because he had asked for assistance, and she was about to give him some.  “We shall try a distance tactic first, if not, I'm fully capable of going in with a more physical means.”

Sitting herself back down in the chair she set up the PADD so that both of them would be in view of it, the same PADD that Cross had given her with the list, which she had sent to her own personal PADD so that she could read it to the person she was about to talk to should it become necessary.  She initiated a call from the PADD and waited. 

[I told you I would get to your supplies when I had ti-] the Klingon voice died out when he looked up and saw that Zyrao Natauna was sitting next to Cross this time.  Zyrao gave a dangerous grin.  One that spoke of all the kinds of special torture that she had in store for Klingons that couldn't hold up their bargain.

In perfect enunciated Klingon, Zyrao began to speak to the man.  “It seems your house has no honor, stating you would send supplies and then, time and time again.. forgetting.  Yet, my issues with this is, that you wish for us to help you.  We have sent our officers out on missions for you, we have sent our fighters out to fight with yours and aside yours, we have helped defend this planet while you are to help us with repairs to our ship.  Except that now, you are being a cowardly half breed, by claiming that the waited for supplies will come when you have time to get them.  So I am curious, what keeps you so busy because it surely isn't a woman, as she wouldn't touch you with your lack of honor and pride in your work.”

The eyes of the Klingon on screen grew wider and wider with every Klingon verbage spilled from Zyrao's lips.  She wore the crest of Martok on her lapel as well having been from his own house when she was with Drex.  She didn't really need it, most of the Klingon on this planet knew of Zyrao and knew who she belonged to, but it was an added insurance that she would be taken seriously.  That, and those that didn't know her face, knew that a human like face, and that crest, could only mean one person.  The kind of person that had won fighting matches, the kind of person that was Klingon enough that Martok had wanted her as family, the one that fought and worked along side their kind for decades. 

[Miss Natauna.]

“Don't.” she held up a hand.  “Don't come at me with your false respect and your desire to make me believe that you are truly just held up in something I can't fathom.  You aren't.  Your job is a supplier, and right now, you're failing.  Do I need to inform your house leader of this?  Let him know that you are failing in your arm of peace towards the Federation and the Theurgy.  Perhaps we should pick a woman to do your job, at least she then would be able to get things done.”

The Klingon set back against the chair he had been in and let out a large long breath.  She waited for him to think about her words.  She was not afraid to go to the Leader of his House, and if the man couldn't hold up a bargain then he was useless in his position.  “Unless it is your House that is holding back on the promised supplies?” she ventured.

He snarled.  [You do not speak ill of my house.]

Zyrao grinned darkly.  “So it is just you then failing at the position you were given, a desk job, the lack of pride and the lack of fighting must be killing you inwardly on a daily basis.  And yet, instead of accepting your job and getting this stuff done proving your worth of a different kind to your fellow Klingon you can't even do this right.”

Again, the whites of the Klingon eyes were even more exposed and his nostrils flared.  [You are stating I do not have pride.]

“That much is clear.  I didn't need to state it for you, I needed to state it for others present in this conversation.  Now, I'm expecting a large delivery of the requested supplies in six hours or less.  Do you need that I resend the list to you, or do you think you can find it again?” she asked curiously waiting, never once did she sit back, she was forward the whole conversation but made sure that Cross was in the view as well while she dealt with the Klingon.

[I can't pro-]

“Incorrect.  You have had plenty of time to get the supplies together, they should be in a place already waiting to be transported on board.  If they aren't, then it is proof you cannot do your job, nor take pride in the one you have been given, and you fail at being a Klingon worth his house and his name.”

[6 hours.]

“Every.  Last.  Piece.” she reminded him with a grin, knowing that the UT would make sure that Cross could understand everything that had transpired.  “Also, this is my associate, Cross, and should you make him or his officer T'Less ever wait on promised deliveries without truly valid excuses my next conversation with you will be at the end of my fist, with a Bat'leth, and I promise that your House Leader will watch you fall on the ground groveling at my feet for mercy.”

The man was clearly enraged at this point, and likely would destroy something as soon as the call ended.  Zyrao looked over at Cross and rose her brow.  “Anything you need to add while we have a captive audience?”

Re: Day 08: [1900 hrs.] Knock Knock

Reply #5 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Chief Tactical Officer’s Office | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @BZ
[Show/Hide]
Cross watched with curiosity as Zyrao Natauna rose from her chair, dragging it behind her as she made her way around the desk to seat herself next to him. Neither of them made comment about her movements, and Zyrao wasted no time, stating that they would try a distance tactic first. Interlacing organic and metallic fingers on his desk, Cross waited at Zyrao seated herself beside him, then watched as she initiated a call from the PADD.

An unhappy Klingon appeared as the transmission connected, and immediately launched into the beginnings of a protest which sounded like it would be a very brief and dismissive conversation had his words not died in his mouth as the ridge-headed ass recognized Zyrao.

What followed was, for Cross, extremely entertaining. The Klingon would likely view it as less so.

Cross listened as the universal translator did it’s work, Zyrao having switched to flawless Klingon for the exchange, her words less than kind.

I bet T'Less would have loved to see this… Cross thought to himself, being mindful to keep his expression carefully neutral lest some of his enjoyment seep through as the verbal onslaught continued, the Klingon unsuccessfully attempting to protest form time to time. Such attempts were quickly shot down as Zyrao showed no mercy, insulting the man, his house, and his honour without hesitation. Cross found himself wishing he had some popcorn to munch on as he watched the one-sided tirade, the Klingon struggling to resist and ultimately failing.

Finally, the Klingon agreed to deliver the promised supplies within 6 hours, with Zyrao reiterating that every last piece of the promised resupply would be delivered within the timeframe lest she need to take a more… proactive manner in dealing with the man. Cross had to fight back a grin which threatened to spread over his features. Their Klingon Liaison had certainly proved herself in his eyes, and if she handled tactics and weapons systems half as well as she handled this Klingon, then she would most certainly be an asset to the ship. Zyrao turned to Cross then, asking is he had anything more to add while they had the man’s attention. Cross considered the question for a moment.

”No, I think that will do for now.” Cross finally said, the ghost of a smirk playing over his lips. ”Besides, I think we’d better let him go lick his wounds as he prepares to have out supplies delivered. He’ll lose face in front of his men if you actually make him cry, and that will just delay things further.”

Once Zyrao had ended the call, Cross turned to her and allowed a broad grin to take hold. ”I must say, that was entertaining!” He said with a chuckle, shaking his head slightly. ”I thought he was going to have an aneurysm. Thank you, Miss Natauna, both for the entertainment and for solving our problem. I have no doubt we’d still be waiting for those supplies weeks from now without your help.” Cross took up his mug and took a sip of his coffee, the bitter liquid seeming to taste better than normal now that the constant annoyance of dealing with the Klingons had finally been removed. Placing his mug back on the desk, Cross turned and looked at the El-Aurian seated next to him. ”Haja, if you handle a tactical console half as well as you did that Klingon, I can’t see there being a problem giving you something to do in the Tactical department.” Cross rose from his chair, moved to the viewport and leaned against the wall, cradling his coffee in front of his chest with both hands. ”I’ll need to clear it with the Captain first of course. And, no offense, but I’ll want to know more about you as well. Not to sound ungrateful for the assistance you’ve just given us, but I’d be a hajari idiot if I just let some unknown variable have free reign with this ship’s tactical systems.” Cross paused to take a sip form his mug before he continued. ”So, Miss Natauna, how does a former KDF Strategist wind up wanting to work with the tactical department aboard a renegade Starfleet dreadnaught being hunted by an entire task force and trying to tell the Federation they're being infested by alien worms?” The question brought a bit of a smile to his lips, the words sounding ridiculous to his ears. Certainly not a question he would ever have imagined himself asking.

Oh, how things change. Cross thought to himself as he waited for Zyrao’s response. At least, with the resupply expected to arrive in the next 6 hours, he had one less thing to worry about.


Kardasi Translation:
Haja – Fuck
Hajari - Fucking

Re: Day 08: [1900 hrs.] Knock Knock

Reply #6 –
[Zyrao Natauna | Do Not Mess With The Best | Will Cut a Klingon | My Dick is Bigger Than Yours]
@Fife




It seemed that Cross was sated with what she had accomplished, or seemed to have accomplished, in her phone call.  Afterall, she hadn't actually seen the product delivered yet but she also would hold true to her words.  If they didn't deliver upon their promise she would be going down there to kick his ass in person.  In front of his people, and make him grovel in front of her until she finally gave in and told him he could save his pride by delivering the supplies that she had asked for to begin with.  So, hopefully the man had enough sense to know when not to mess with people and Zyrao had a hell of a reputation on the planet.  He knew her name, and if he didn't know who she was the other people around him would when he mentioned it to someone.  Word would get to him, and he would know that she wasn't to be messed with.  It was in his best interests to do what he promised.

She quickly turned back to the Klingon that sat there waiting to see if there was anything else that needed to be said.  But, it was clear that he was ready to go.  She knew that keeping him on the line while she and Cross talked was only pouring salt in an already salty wound, but that was fine, he could wait.  He had made the Federation wait on their supplies so he could hold on just a damn moment.  Finally, she turned back to the man and she gave a bit of a grin.

“Six hours, supplies, quickly and completely.” she reiterated before she ended the call and sat back in the seat she had populated more relaxed.  Cross was apparently blown away singing about how entertaining it was to watch.  A bit of a grin crossed her face as he mentioned that he thought the Klingon was going to have a aneurysm because of the situation at hand.  “Sometimes you have to drop the semblance of being their friend and remember their Klingon.  Their culture is entirely different, you're seen as weak when you're too kind and understanding.  Sometimes you have to pick up your ego and just make the threats happen.”

The fact that he was cursing in Cardassi, again, called to her.  She wondered, since he wasn't Cardassian where he had learned this language or if this was one of those times where the first words learned in any new language were usually the bad ones.  She wasn't sure what the story was there, but she figured that she would ask at some point.  He admitted that if she could handle tactics the way that she handled the Klingon that he could see no reason that she couldn't participate here and there.  Of course he would have to run it past the Captain, and she understood that, though doubted that Ives would turn down her expertise in a civilian manner allowing her to be helpful to the ship when she wasn't doing her Klingon Liaison work all the time.  Sometimes, she was going to want to get her hands dirty and make something out of her day.

He took another sip of his drink and she looked over at him as he asked her how she had ended up on board the Theurgy a bit of a grin played on her lips as she thought about what to tell him.  Of course, Ives new the truth but admitting that you betrayed your captain due to idiocy on his part was not something that everyone needed to know.  So she curbed the truth slightly, omitting a few minor details, when it was necessary to help with the situation at hand. 

“I was stationed on the Hakkarl for a while, some years actually, working directly underneath Drex and with his crew.  He decided to defy orders by going to SuD Lang and attacking the fleet, taking on Ives head on because, he thought that he could win despite mine and other attempts to assure him otherwise.  I went down with the crew that was to infiltrate SuD Lang, and worked with the Theurgy crew instead of my own to overcome them.  When the system was triggered, I helped get everyone on board to escape, located the traitor that had called them out to SuD Lang betraying the Theurgy's location.  I did not wish to return to the Hakkarl.  However, that decision was made easy when the defense system destroyed the ship and my home with it.”

She looked over at the man beside her, she didn't seem too upset about the loss of her ship, that or she was just gifted in hiding it.  Which she was, she had been around a very long time, and she didn't really want to admit how much she disliked losing her home.  That ship had been her home for a long time, years, decades.  She had lost memories on board that ship, things on board that ship, lovers on board that ship.  It was not as easy as it sounded.

“So tell me how a Vulcan goes about slinging Cardassi curse words as though he has been speaking them all his life.  I hold you in higher regard than using it because it seems trendy.”

Re: Day 08: [1900 hrs.] Knock Knock

Reply #7 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Chief Tactical Officer’s Office | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @BZ
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Cross retuned to his seat and listened as Natauna began to tell him about how she’d ended up aboard the Theurgy, starting with her time aboard the Hakkarl, how it had come to face Ives and how she had changed sides. The El-Aurian had wound up on the Theurgy while the Hakkarl had been destroyed. Cross noticed she didn’t seem too upset by the loss of the ship she had served on for years, which seemed curious to the Vulcan. He’d felt lost when the Endeavour had been destroyed, completely adrift, and he’d only been aboard the ship for a little over a year. He could only imagine what losing a ship he’d been aboard for a long period like she had would have done to him.

Then she turned the tables on him, asking his how a Vulcan came to sling about Kardasi expletives like he was a native speaker. The question made Cross grin as Zyrao added that she thought more of him that to believe it was simply done out of the belief that it was trendy. Cross chuckled as he took a sip of his coffee, then leaned back in his chair.

”I swear in Kardasi like I’ve been speaking it my whole life because I have been speaking it my whole life.” Cross admitted, giving Zyrao a wry smile. ”It’s a bit of a long story, though I’m sure you can imagine, speaking Kardasi as a first language tended to be a great conversation starter.” Cross glanced sideways at Zyrao. ”It wasn’t exactly a popular trait during the war. I decided to learn Federation Standard, but always kept the habit of swearing in Kardasi.” Cross shrugged, taking another sip of his coffee. ”There’s just something I enjoy about swearing in Kardasi, which is why I’ve never tried to rid myself of the habit.”

Cross shifted in his chair, twisting to regard to Klingon Liaison who sat besides him. ”So tell me, Ms. Natauna, what is it you’ve got in mind as far as helping in the Tactical department?”

Re: Day 08: [1900 hrs.] Knock Knock

Reply #8 –
[Zyrao Natauna | Klingon Through and Through | Kardasi a Language of the Past | Life Stories]
@Fife




Zyrao picked up her own drink and leaned back into the chair that she had occupied.  She didn't find it necessary to move to the other side of the room, for any reason, she was close they were having a conversation.  Personal space was not necessary at this moment.  Though to her, personal space was unnecessary at all times, she was not overly used to having it.  Klingon were largely in your face making sure that you knew who was boss, and they were were not shy when it came to physical touch.  Usually not the gentle kind, but Zyrao refrained from doing all of that she merely sat back sipping her drink and listening to him tell her that he had been speaking Kardasi his entire life.  Her dark brow rose curiously, because, that seemed like an odd thing to have happen to a Vulcan.  But then, she could speak it fluently as well, it was a story she found herself very intrigued by.

He admitted it was a long story, a single shoulder of Zyrao popped up and down to show that she had no where to be.  The meeting had taken a lot less time than she had expected and slotted for.  She could use the time to do something relaxing but she might as well make another connection on the ship.  That was what was important, especially on a large ship like the Theurgy.  You couldn't make enough connections and now that the absolute waste of space, Trent, was gone she was actually able to do so without him interfering and calling out her plans for stupidity when there was actually none to be found.  No, she was beginning to prove herself useful and beginning to prove that Ives asking her to stay on board the ship was founded.

He told her that it was a great conversation starter, until the war, where he learned Federation standard.  A smile crossed her face and she gave a nod.  She had never had that issue with  her own native language.  The melodic tones of El-Aurian was something that she dropped into when she spoke to herself, and more now than before since she was on the Theurgy.  But often, it was still such a heavy habit to slip into Klingon most of the time.  And truthfully, they cursed so colorfully it was worth keeping it around.  You could tell someone they were beautiful and having the best day ever, and the Klingon language would twist it to sounding like an insult. 

He decided to change the subject so she let it drop.  Though she was more curious about the Kardasi language topic he had decided not to drop into the long story.  There was no reason to push him on it, they had only just met and it might be something that he only shared with those close to him.  Zyrao, took in a break and let it out slowly when he asked her what she had in mind for helping the Tactical department.  For a moment Zyrao thought about a loaded and totally uncalled for question.  Really, she just expected to show up when necessary and offer her expertise.  But, she supposed as the Chief of Tactical he wanted to know her actual skill set? 

“I have been at one war or another, one battle or another, since before most of the crew on this ship was born.  I know it's not a secret, but still, not everyone knows of my El-Aurian heritage.  I was on the El-Aurian Defense, after that, I went through various times in my life where I wasn't doing anything military.  However, when I was on Cardassia I worked with their armed forces, sort of, by protecting a General and his family for some years before things changed and I moved to the Klingon.  There, I was in many battles, and worked with the Captain closely so that we would win more of those battles.  Before his ego got too big for his body and he began to run with his own stupidity.  I am as talented as I can be, it's up to the people around me to utilize me.  As long as I can be respected, I will respect in return, and get a lot of forward momentum.  The Theurgy is on the run from a multi-tude of enemies.  You need all the help you can get.”

She sat up putting her drink back on his desk.  “I do not have access to everything I would like being a civilian and somehow, in the Federation, trusted less than anywhere else I have worked.  However, people enjoy speaking and telling their stories so I have been gathering my own intel and collecting my own information on what has happened recently.  You have too many enemies, and I can only imagine you will garner more through your travels and your war against the parasites.  The Theurgy cannot look at talent, however offered, as though it does not matter.  They need every ounce of assistance they can achieve.  I have been a tactician for two hundred years.  I have assisted battles, wars, and strategic escapes.  I may not be your most talented or your best tactician but another experienced set of eyes on your deck could not be amiss.”

She had stated her case, and now it was his turn to reply.

Re: Day 08: [1900 hrs.] Knock Knock

Reply #9 –
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Chief Tactical Officer’s Office | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @BZ
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Cross listened as the ship’s El-Aurian Klingon Liaison stated that she had been in numerous wars spanned back beyond the lives of most of the Theurgy’s crew, serving in the El-Aurian Defense and on Cardassia before joining up with the Klingons. Cross had schooled his face to a neutral expression as Zyrao had mentioned being part of a Cardassian General’s personal protective detail, not wanting to give the woman the wrong message should she take his distaste for the Cardassians as a silent comment on something more personal. Cross wordlessly sipped his coffee as she went on, talking of her time with the KDF before coming to the conclusion that, with the number of enemies the Theurgy had looming in every direction, they needed all the help they could get.

He had to admit, she wasn’t wrong.

Placing her drink on the desk, Zyrao continued, stating that she didn’t have access to all the information she would have liked, though adding that she had gleaned plenty of information from the talkings of the crew. Cross made a mental not to bring that up with the Commander Ducote the next time he met with the ship’s XO, not in regards to Zyrao learning things, but rather with the concern for such information gracing the ears of those who might report on them to Task Force Archeron or any of their other enemies who could use it against them.

”As I’ve said, Miss Natauna, I’ll have to get it cleared with Captain Ives first, but I don’t see that being an issue.” Cross said once she’d finished. ”To say that we need all the help we can get is an understatement, to say the least. I’ve only been aboard the Theurgy for just over a week, and the hajari list of our enemies seems to have more names added to it every time I see it. Give it another week, and we’ll have the entire hajari quadrant gunning for us.” Cross drained the last of his mug and, letting out a sigh, placed it on his desk beside her own. ”Once I get this cleared with Ives, we’ll find a good use for you and get you sorted with proper access to our systems. That may take some time, though, so don’t expect it to happen tomorrow. We may be labeled as traitors and renegades on the run, but there’s still plenty of sticklers for procedure and protocol aboard. I’ll have to ask you to be patient.” Cross gave Zyrao a half smile, suspecting that if the woman was as old as she claimed, patients would likely be something she’d learned long ago.

Then again, she’d been among the Klingons for some time, and they were certainly not known for their patients.

”Now if there’s nothing else, I’m afraid I need to end our meeting there, Miss Natauna.” Cross said by way of apology, rising to his feet as he spoke. ”I’d like a chance to get to know you more once we get you cleared to work more within the Tactical department, though for the moment I’m afraid I’ve got somewhere to be.” A smile that held more than a little bemusement to it crossed his features. ”A wedding, if you’d believe it. I’m not sure that being in hiding in Aldea’s orbit makes for the most festive or romantic of circumstances, but I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” There was genuine warmth in his voice as he spoke, belying a fondness for one or both of the crew members who’s wedding he was to attend.

As she rose to her feet as well, Cross extended his hand to shake. ”Thank you again for your help with our Klingon problems, Miss Natauna. You’ve saved myself and Lieutenant T'Less a world of headache.”

Kardasi Translation:
Hajari - Fucking

Re: Day 08: [1900 hrs.] Knock Knock

Reply #10 –
[Zyrao Natauna | One Foot in the Door | Trying to Find a Hold | Meet's End – Work Begins]
@Fife




He reitterated that he would have to get it past Ives, she doubted that would be an issue, but then who knew.  She understood needing to prove herself and to make a name for herself on every ship she had entered.  Though, the people here seemed to make it that much harder.  She knew that Ives utilized and respected her.  She knew that Dewitt appreciated her know how and other abilities.  She knew that there were some on the ship that understood her usefulness and yet she still felt very much an outsider.  She supposed that could be because of who she was, of what she was, of  how she came on board the ship and things like that.  But, she hoped that over time and the actual ability given to do something to help impact the ship it would be better. 

She had assisted, and she had tried, and now she had an actual job and was able to actually get something accomplished that had helped Cross.  She hoped that he would remember later all of the help she had been when he needed some more.  Right now though, she understood that there was going to be patience involved.  She figured that he might have mentioned that because she had been with the Klingon for such a long time, but he didn't know her well enough yet to be able to assume how she would be.

“I think you mistake my tenure with the Klingon for impatience.  I can assure you, after my life time, that I have plenty.  Just let me know when you hear anything.” she stated calmly.

He rose, having finished his drink, and then explained that he had somewhere to be.  A wedding of all things.  She had not heard of any wedding on board, so either it was a very small affair or it wasn't overly talked about.  The ship was massive but she had always found that people on ships especially ones like this, were prone to gossip.  Still, she hoped that who ever had decided that marriage was for the best right now, was right, and they would be able to have a good wedding and a successful relationship.

“It is good to focus on the good when things are dark.” she admitted rising out of her own seat and turning to shake the hand of the Vulcan male.  He would find that she was satisfied with their conversation and felt useful for the first time in a while.  She had enjoyed their conversation and seemed content. 

“I will look forward to you contacting me in the future, good luck to your friends and their wedding.” she turned to take her leave first incase he needed to get changed or to prepare for something.  So she took her leave, and knew that it was time to return to her regular duties.  Though she was glad to have been of some help and actually used her Klingon liaison abilities to good use.

-FIN-
 
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