Dashel reached the Counselling Suite on Deck 11, walking unhurriedly, bat’leth in hand, baldric over his uniform. His expression was calm, even though this was one of his least favourite bits. He knew it had to be done, but in his estimation, none of the Counsellors matched up with the example set by his mother, Anita, and his adopted Klingon father, Morak. He recognised the need for it, and he would do it, it just didn’t mean he’d like it.

“Dashel Jamison, CTO,” he announced when he entered the suite of offices, his eyes drifted to his bat’leth, “don’t worry, I won’t use this on the furniture or the Counsellor. I believe it is Lieutenant Commander Atoded that I’m seeing.”

“Dash!” a young voice drew his attention. Dashel looked, it was the young boy he met in sickbay earlier.

“Oh, hi Tal,” Dashel replied, “you here with your mum?”

“Yeah, she’s in there at the moment,” Tal paused and said, “it’s my birthday next week, do you think …”

Dashel looked at the boy as he sat, adjusting his bat’leth. “Think what?”

“That you could come to our quarters and help me celebrate it? It would be fun!” Tal said enthusiastically.

“Wouldn’t you rather have your friends at your party with you?” Dashel asked gently.

“Yes, but … you too,” Tal said, “and can you …” His eyes fell on the bat’leth … “bring the bat’death with you. It’d be really cool. Mum says I’m too young to use swords yet, but if you bring it, I can look at it with my friends and you can show us how to use the bat’death!” Tal’s eyes danced with excitement as he spoke.

Jamison, Dash Jamison, Son of Morak
CTO, USS Athena