Silverbird
Star
- Joined
- Jun 23, 2018
The Captain’s Klingon-inspired threat drew an understated “Understood” from T’Vara in response, who inclined her head in his direction without taking her eyes from her console or breaking the flow of her typing. It was, again, difficult to tell if she had taken the threat seriously, or whether she was merely humoring him and playing along. Privately, she assumed that it was simply an empty threat intended to motivate them — but there was no logical benefit in voicing such a thought out loud. Besides, it hardly mattered; she had no intention of giving him reason for complaint.
Her typing did come to a stop a few moments later, as the Captain gave Ensign Leata her final orders to commence the drill. There was something off in his tone; a hesitation that had loosely been present for a short moment during their briefing, but now magnified considerably. The Vulcan inclined her head slightly as she looked over to her old friend, sharp eyes watching his body language from behind as he continued to speak. He was tense, unsure, kept glancing over to the Commander — ah. T’Vara understood. He was nervous, worried about causing trouble or about how this unscheduled test might be looked upon by his superiors in Starfleet Command. It was quite probable that he was picturing an unprecedented disaster that would lead to his reassignment to cargo duties on some anonymous ore hauler, or some such scenario along those lines.
Perhaps she could help with that.
“Captain.” T’Vara spoke up sharply to get his attention. “With your permission, I will contact Starfleet and Traffic Control to inform them of our intentions.”
Her typing did come to a stop a few moments later, as the Captain gave Ensign Leata her final orders to commence the drill. There was something off in his tone; a hesitation that had loosely been present for a short moment during their briefing, but now magnified considerably. The Vulcan inclined her head slightly as she looked over to her old friend, sharp eyes watching his body language from behind as he continued to speak. He was tense, unsure, kept glancing over to the Commander — ah. T’Vara understood. He was nervous, worried about causing trouble or about how this unscheduled test might be looked upon by his superiors in Starfleet Command. It was quite probable that he was picturing an unprecedented disaster that would lead to his reassignment to cargo duties on some anonymous ore hauler, or some such scenario along those lines.
Perhaps she could help with that.
“Captain.” T’Vara spoke up sharply to get his attention. “With your permission, I will contact Starfleet and Traffic Control to inform them of our intentions.”