Ishtar Nhamashal. Upon first glance, anyone could see there was something different about the diminutive woman, whose traditional wear portrayed a strong connection to the way of her people. She was no ordinary scientist, as much as she wished to have others believe that truth, but she supposed Starfleet didn’t need ordinary people on their ships, so she had stopped attempting to be like everyone else.

Watching the halls of the Olympic, nearly incapable of suppressing the excitement that came across her gaze, she watched as the people passed. Her hands.. They remained clasped firmly behind her back, her shoulders as straight as she could managed. Although, that vibrabt gaze of hers dared to say there was more than just a regal woman scanning those halls. Shaking her head, she attempted to relieve herself of excitement, in effort to remain professional, at least until these standard check-ins had been completed.

Finally, the XO’s office. Upon transfer, the Admiral had requested she report to the XO first. Despite th curosity that filled her mind with questions about this breach in formality, she hasn’t had the tongue to bother questioning a man as gruesome and stern as he. Thus, without any questions, she sought out the office of the Commander, in brief hopes he would be there, making this journey short and quick.

Raising a thin finger to the chime, she pressed it, monetarily awaiting to hear from the other side. Clasping her hands behind the small of her back, once more, she stood at attention, regardless of her mind, who was racing at warp speed. It took incredible amounts of control to remain as still as she was, but years of growing up in a family as stoic and regal as her own, she had somehow gotten used to it.. Even if none of those rules and chides ever stuck.

Lt. Ishtar Nhamashal
CSO