"...what do you mean you lost the prototaxites containment canister, lieutenant? We have to set off for-" [Comms]"Found it, sir. My apologies. barely audible hiss and clank Loaded, captain. Sporehub drive ready." *The Jem'hadar grunted and rolled his eyes; the Ferasan that served as his chief engineer could be such a pain in the neck with how absentminded she could be. How exactly she'd gotten where she was, he had no idea. Oh well. At least now they could be on their way. "Black alert. Destination: Starbase 777. Communications, notify the base upon arrival. Jump when ready." For a moment the silver and gold battlecruiser's massive cavitation rings spun round, from which tendrils of glowing white rocketed off into the vast blackness of space... and then it was gone, leaving the vast sea of diamonds and black around Vaadwaur Prime empty once more. (edited)

The turbolift came to a stop and the door slid open, out stepped a tough Klingon warrior, one of the best of the modern empire... And everyone had to literally look down on her, oddly short for a Klingon, even for a female. Over the past fifteen years she had grown to be a close correspondent with Ughaz'udan, and learned to respect him as her prejudices melted like the fat of a perfectly seared targ loin, like the one that she had just finished before coming to the bridge of this unique ship. "My friend! What's the status of our destination? I am eager to revel with the people of my previous assignment, it has been so long since I've seen the station. I do wonder who we will see, are you eager too? Or stoic like always?" She speaks loudly and excitedly, with a certian Klingon pride that she exempts when eager.

"Ensign, resume your station." He ordered the Klingon at the science console, who'd been trying to kneel at the sight of Khay'lsh. "I am eager, Dahar Master, as I you are." This time Ughaz'udan smiled, only slightly. That was all she'd (and anyone else, ha) get from him in front of his crew and on the bridge. "Who shall we see? Take guesses at your discretion. I suppose they are all possible."

"Oh come now, you don't need to call me by my title, we are friends, lest you want to go back to when we first met 15 years ago that is." She smiled, stepping up near his station. She figured it wasn't a place for casual conversation and just watched the viewscreen in enjoyment.

"I am on my bridge, on duty, in front of my crew. Duty demands that I address you by your title until we are out of their sight." He murmured so only she could hear before squinting at the turbolift doors hissing open... ...revealing a green-skinned teenaged girl of about fifteen years of age, dressed in a dark red shirt that made the patches of grey scale interspersed throughout her body visible and jeans and clutching a PADD in her hands - and looking very, very bored. "So this is dad's bridge. Seven years and he-" Ughaz'udan then turned to the Klingon with a raised eyebrow. "I thought she was enjoying her afternoon with you." (edited)

The middle-aged Klingon glared at the girl briefly, as if to non-verbally communicate that she wasn't meant to be here at the moment. Then she responded to what Ughaz said. "Like you stated, was enjoying it. We both found the ship's amenities to be lacking, and she didn't feel like a fight to first blood with a bat'leth- hardly seems possible considering her heritage." Khayl'sh faced the girl, personally she found the babysitting gig quite boring, especially with the daughter being fifteen, she could handle herself. By the time Khayl'sh was fifteen she had gotten into numerous fights, and her parenting experience made her feel like this was no different. But it was, the young lady wasn't a Klingon after all, and Khayl'sh had to respect that much.

"I have a name, dad!" Complained the teenager with a pout. "Please just let me stay? I promise I won't fire the antiproton lance again." Ughaz'udan fixed her with a stern glare. "Find your mother in the bar. We will be transporting over soon. Now go." The Jem'hadar sighed as the poor, dejected girl deflated and shuffled into the turbolift much to the amusement of his crew. Yes, even to the normally stoic Reman man seated in the first officer's chair. "Hardly possible indeed. But Sharra likes flowers and wants to spend the rest of her life studying them despite every bit of evidence to the contrary. She is unusual by any count - and I suppose even that is putting it lightly.:

"Children are that way, don't always follow the path you want them to, it's something you eventually need to accept." Khayl'sh let out a sympathetic sigh, one of understanding for the position Ughaz'udan is in, even if it was a bit amusing to her with the situation. "My son Kur is exactly the same, hasn't wanted to be a warrior, nor wanted anything to do with politics. He chose to be a poet, a romantic. But he's done well for himself, even if my early scorn was off-putting and caused some moments between us. Support her ambitions, and she will go off to do amazingly with your backing, or don't and she will manage to become great even without your help. It's up to you. But that's my 50 cents I think the human term is."

"Perhaps I shall." He mused. "If she decides to pursue this unusual dream of hers I would like to see how far and where she goes."

"Either way, take pride in her successes, even if not in combat, they can still be glorious things to remember." She turned back to the viewer, they arrived at the station by this point. "Shall we beam aboard to the station? Or will you be remaining here for a bit longer?"

"Of course. Ensign, is-" Ughaz'udan raised an eyebrow at the Nausicaan comms officer who'd just puked all over his boots, causing his colleagues to recoil from the smell. Eugh. "-yes, sir. Starbase 777 reports ready." The Nausicaan retched again. "Permission to visit sickbay, sir. My vertigo-" "Go." He stated. "Virana, Sharra and I shall meet you shortly, then." He said to her as the poor Nausicaan loped into the turbolift.