05-06-2026, 08:41 PM
Beinn was far enough away from them that she had to raise her voice slightly to make sure both men heard her, though her voice was easily carried now that the were all standing in a hollow box.
Peter took her aside, and though his face was shining with adrenaline and victory, his eyes were worried. “I saw you at first... why did you turn off the safeties?”
Art knew that the answer of ‘because it’s more fun’ wouldn’t fly with a First Officer or a boyfriend, let alone someone who was both.
“I have no doubt that you could handle them,” he continued, clearly not wanting to insult her, “But you and I know very well that in a fight, it doesn't take much for something to go wrong. A moment's lack of attention.” Though his hand had been up to hold off her protest, she opened her mouth to interject all the same. “That's what these combat drills are supposed to help us learn to anticipate and deal with.” He added. Art closed her mouth and frowned, knowing that she had probably spent too much time in private when she should have been running drills with her team. “In relative safety. It's not about shying away from a fight, but saving the danger for the enemy.”
He smiled at her, something michevious and familiar, which thankfully told Art that she wasn’t in ‘official’ trouble. “Because I knew I could handle it?” She said, a bit of a playful tone in her voice. She didn’t offer more of an explanation; she guessed that ‘I had to bleed out my anger’ would get her in the Counselor’s office regardless of who she was speaking to.
Before she could attempt to offer up another weak explanation, the armored-up wolf came over for a chat. Speaking strictly in Klingon, he challenged, “Shame upon your House, daughter of D'Tor'an. I enter to give you a challenge, and you shy away to bleed in fear while in the shadow of your guardian.” Art’s lip immediately curled up and she growled, gathering what strength she had left so she could at least punch him in the snout. What was he here for in the first place, anyway? Didn’t anyone on this ship know the meaning of ‘alone’?
“Stand and defend your House with your choice of weapon, or face discommendation.” The armored, furry beast continued, and Art’s growl grew louder. “Or....if you're in need of medical attention, I'll render that instead of a duel.”
Artie’s entire demeanor changed. Her shoulders slumped again, her posture even more so, and she let out a huff that sounded somewhat like a laugh. “Oh, shut up, you hintele!”
Looking up at Beinn again, Art let go another laugh, and wiped the blood from her head, looking perhaps a bit sheepishly at Peter now. “Should I really go to Sickbay before heading back to Security?” She asked. “I didn’t think this would take long, to be honest.” Managing a side look at Kal-Geal, she added, “You’re not our counselor too, right?” This was asked with a hint of teasing.
==Unfortunately could not look up for the Klingon word for “puppy” at work, so I went with the Yiddish, which sounds kinda like Klingon anyway lol==
Peter took her aside, and though his face was shining with adrenaline and victory, his eyes were worried. “I saw you at first... why did you turn off the safeties?”
Art knew that the answer of ‘because it’s more fun’ wouldn’t fly with a First Officer or a boyfriend, let alone someone who was both.
“I have no doubt that you could handle them,” he continued, clearly not wanting to insult her, “But you and I know very well that in a fight, it doesn't take much for something to go wrong. A moment's lack of attention.” Though his hand had been up to hold off her protest, she opened her mouth to interject all the same. “That's what these combat drills are supposed to help us learn to anticipate and deal with.” He added. Art closed her mouth and frowned, knowing that she had probably spent too much time in private when she should have been running drills with her team. “In relative safety. It's not about shying away from a fight, but saving the danger for the enemy.”
He smiled at her, something michevious and familiar, which thankfully told Art that she wasn’t in ‘official’ trouble. “Because I knew I could handle it?” She said, a bit of a playful tone in her voice. She didn’t offer more of an explanation; she guessed that ‘I had to bleed out my anger’ would get her in the Counselor’s office regardless of who she was speaking to.
Before she could attempt to offer up another weak explanation, the armored-up wolf came over for a chat. Speaking strictly in Klingon, he challenged, “Shame upon your House, daughter of D'Tor'an. I enter to give you a challenge, and you shy away to bleed in fear while in the shadow of your guardian.” Art’s lip immediately curled up and she growled, gathering what strength she had left so she could at least punch him in the snout. What was he here for in the first place, anyway? Didn’t anyone on this ship know the meaning of ‘alone’?
“Stand and defend your House with your choice of weapon, or face discommendation.” The armored, furry beast continued, and Art’s growl grew louder. “Or....if you're in need of medical attention, I'll render that instead of a duel.”
Artie’s entire demeanor changed. Her shoulders slumped again, her posture even more so, and she let out a huff that sounded somewhat like a laugh. “Oh, shut up, you hintele!”
Looking up at Beinn again, Art let go another laugh, and wiped the blood from her head, looking perhaps a bit sheepishly at Peter now. “Should I really go to Sickbay before heading back to Security?” She asked. “I didn’t think this would take long, to be honest.” Managing a side look at Kal-Geal, she added, “You’re not our counselor too, right?” This was asked with a hint of teasing.
==Unfortunately could not look up for the Klingon word for “puppy” at work, so I went with the Yiddish, which sounds kinda like Klingon anyway lol==