Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Hegush Falz (Chief of Operations) in Pre Sim: CNS Office - Psycological Evaluation

Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Torgh of the House of Konjah (Counsellor) in Pre Sim: CNS Office - Psycological Evaluation

Posted by Lieutenant Junior Grade Hegush Falz (Chief of Operations) in Pre Sim: CNS Office - Psycological Evaluation
Posted by… suppressed (6) by the Post Ghost! 👻
The Bajoran Ale Falz had managed to smuggle aboard with him stared with all the temptaions of an Orion slave girl, or perhaps of Alenis Meru, the fabled Bajoran Resistance Fighter who’s beauty and whispered promises had lured many gulliable Cardassian to their well earned deaths. His mother claimed that his sisters were decended from the fameous Alenis Meru and their own beauty was testomony to that. She never said who he was decended from. Hegush didn’t know if she was a real person or just a story the old cow had come up with to entertain his sisters Menia and Eezi. Eezi in particular had loved those stories, bragging about how one day she would do the same with her own looks as she was clearly blessed by the Prophets.

It was funny the ways the Prophets had for laughing at them.

His PADD alarm chimed, reminding him he still had to check in. He moved fast. Grabbing the bottle of Ale and shoving it far into the back of the small cupboard in his quarters. There would be time for the temptress later but not now. Now he had to check in. Starting with the Counsellors office. Doing his best to look like he knew where he was going, he navigated his way to the CNS office. Eventually he found himself where he wanted to be and rung the chime, quietly humming to himself as he waited.

Lt. (j.g.) Hegush
COO

Empty and devoid of furniture and wall trappings Torgh moved around the room contemplating the delivery. He had made no friends in the quartermasters in their needing to deal with the junk in the hall. Sure he had tossed a lot and some things had broken but that was craftsmanship failure and not his fault. Besides they just beamed it into irrelevance anyway. Now he was free to create what a true counselor’s office should be. Decanters of prune juice there. What the Terrans called medicine balls to toss about. Somewhere in his reverie he realized that he had heard the door.

Stalking to it, he let it open. Expecting to see someone smaller than him he was looking down. A long pause later he slowly peered upward. Nose ridges. He always thought that the Bajoran nose ridges were weak; Klingons had much better defined ridges. Still this was not a small man, nor did he look weak, but he was scrawny. Another look at his nose showed it a touch crooked. A warrior’s nose. It made him look more handsome, even with the weak ridges. He didn’t look like the quartermaster to talk about his interior design. Letting out a small sigh, he realized that he must have an appointment. One of these days he should look at his calendar. “What?” he asked.
Torgh

Falz wouldn’t say he prided himself on his knowledge of Counselors, but he liked to think that he knew them. They were all realatively predictable. With false sympathy and comfy sofas. A room that was soft and cushy designed to envelope the patient with a sense of security and comfort. What wasn’t predictable was an irrate Klingon and an empty room. “Are you the Counselor?” Falz asked peering over the Klingon and into the barren room behind him. “I was told this was where the office was,”

Lt. (j.g.) Hegush
COO

Torgh mentally shook his head. Was he going to have to a beany hat with a flashing red light and sound byte that repeated ‘Counselor’ in a monotonous shriek? Bear a ‘Hello I am the Counselor’ name tag. “Huh,” he said in reply to the question. “Enter.” The Klingon turned to move back more into the empty room then swung back to face Hegush, a finger extended. “I have no Tribbles to cuddle nor am I a shoulder to cry on. I am here to make you strong not pretend that I am your mother and you a snot nosed six year old who had just skinned their knee.” He paused, realizing that he really needed a pet Targ for the people to ‘play’ with. “If you disagree with me … too bad.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he muttered under his breath. It was nice to know that the whole ‘emotional’ scene wasn’t going to be expeted in this Counselors office. His mother had never kissed his booboos or comforted him as a child and he wasn’t about to expect someone to start doing it for him now.

He wasn’t entirely destitute, here, however. He had two of what looked like oaken barrels. Mugs sat atop a small table. “Blood wine or prune juice?” he asked, heading for that; there were no seats.
- Torgh

“Blood wine,” Falz said without a second thought following the Counselor into his chambers. Blood wine was one of his favored alcohols. After a life time of drinking his liver had built up a tolerance for most alcohols. Blood wine was one of the few that were still effective, so he was more capable of handling the drink than most non-Klingon humanoids. He stopped at the small table, and casually cast his eye about looking for a seat to make himself comfortable in. Realising there was none he idely turned his attention back to Torgh. What did seats matter when he didn’t expect to be here long enough to need them? All Falz needed was a good stiff drink and a slap on the back and he was good to go.

Lt. (j.g.) Hegush
COO

Torgh moved to the barrels and, with a relish, plunged the mugs into the one barrel and, dripping, passed one to Falz. “Ziveli brate!” It is a old Earth language that appeals to my tongue. It feels close to Klingon but more palatable to Terrans.” He took a long pull at the drink, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Striding over to the window to look out at the stars he confirmed what Falz would already have known by now. “It’s prune juice. One of the best that has come out of Earth.” He took another drink. “What kind of ship was this ‘Undertaker’?”
- Torgh

“Cheers,” Hegush took a confident drink of the ‘blood wine’ and nearly spat the offending liquid back out. Instead his face contorted into an unusual expression, and he swollowed the liquid down. It wasn’t bad, but the disappointment of not getting the alcohol he so desired had tarnished the flavour of his first sip. The thought that Torgh might already have seen his file seemed proven right when the Klingon confirmed that the drink was in fact prune juice. He took a much smaller sip and swallowed, suddenly feeling as if he had failed a test of some kind.

“The ‘Undertaker’ was a small cruiser, disigned primarily for peacekeeping in the Beta Quadrant, it used to be a medical triage ship before it was recomissioned.” The Bajoran shrugged “It does the same menial jobs as every other Starship in space,”

Lt. (j.g.) Hegush
COO

This had been a test and, while his face was still looking outward and away from Falz the flash of disappointment was quickly covered by taking another pull from the mug. He made a noise of disdain at the descriptor of the ship. “A poor name. It might be worthy on a battleship warning one’s enemies, but only that.” He turned. It was interesting his term of menial job. “What was your menial job on the Undertaker?”
Torgh

“I chose the ship because of its naming,” Falz took a much smaller sip from his mug, more for flare than to drink, “I appreciate a good bit of irony,” and what was more ironic than a ship that promised death but was designed to keep peace? Besides he disagreed that the name couldn’t still serve as a warning when attached to a peacekeeping vessal. Just because the something was peaceful didn’t mean it wasn’t ferocious as well. As had been proven during and after the Occupation. The corners of his mouth twitched, “I was a communications and operations officer.”

Lt. (j.g.) Hegush
COO

Torgh grunted and nodded. He could appreciate irony too. Peacekeeping was typically anything but, not that Klingons made a great effort on that part. Their philosophy on peacekeeping was to remove the offending issue. “And this posting? Similar name. Do you consider that menial as well?” His tone was not entirely a challenge; there was a trace of humor in it as well. Was he after the thrill? Was it that after his ongoing battles that this was simply mundane? What did he want out of life? Something to pursue ..
- Torgh