Check. Check. Psych.

Posted on Sat Nov 23rd, 2019 @ 3:22pm by Lieutenant Dakota & Lieutenant Aemilia "Millie" Stepanova

Come aboard? Check.

Get quarters and ditch stuff? Check.

Report in? Check.

That left only the onboarding physical and psychological assessment. Dakota, being herself, decided to get the counseling bullshit out of the way first and headed down to the office of the counselor. She found an office door, shut, and no yeoman waiting to buzz her in, so she just pressed the chime.

Millie looked up from the PADD in her lap. She unfolded her legs, tucking her feet back into her shoes. "Enter!"

The very tall woman who looked human walked in, paused, and took a look around. She saw the woman she presumed was the counselor sitting there and nodded once, moving to sit before she was invited--but they both knew it would have happened. "Lieutenant Dakota," she introduced herself. "I'm the ship's new chief of security, and every time I step onto a boat, they make me come here to have a chat with one of you people."

Settling back slightly, she went right on. "Let's see... I'm over seven hundred years old, I'm pretty sure most of my family was burned at the stake for being witches, I spent a few centuries as a big dog, had all of Starfleet turn on me during the Dominion War, and just recently, I was demoted from commander to lieutenant, and here I am." She smiled wolfishly. "Where would you like to start?"

Millie chuckled softly. "How about an introduction?" She smiled. "I'm Lieutenant Stepanova. But please, call me Millie."

"Call me Dakota, if you like," the chief of security replied easily.

Millie smiled. "If it's alright with you. In this room, I don't focus so much on formalities." She tucked one leg under her, settling into her chair. "With that in mind, if there is a form that you are most comfortable in, this is a safe place. I won't mind if you are more comfortable in another form during our times together."

The shapeshifter swallowed down a small growl, feeling an odd echo of the past that she pushed away. Instead, she pushed the corners of her mouth up in a mirthless smile. "It's very difficult and sometimes impossible for me to speak in other forms. This one is fine for the moment."

The counselor nodded. "Understandable. However, the holodeck is also at our disposal should you ever need time to--" She paused, considering her words. " --be as you wish to be. I can also request for modifications to be made to your quarters, if existing in another form during your off-hours is preferred." Her smile seemed sincere.

"I appreciate that," Dakota said, and mostly meant it, although she didn't like harping on her physiology. "But I am not like the Gamma Quadrant shifters. This form is as natural to me as any other. I never need to become liquid or light or anything. All my forms are biological. Sometimes I'm different humans, and sometimes I'm animals. But every one suits as well as others in terms of my comfort."

Millie smiled. "Good. Now that the formalities are done," she started, tucking one leg under her, "we can get to know each other a bit better. I trust that you are settling in just fine?"

Dakota nodded once. "Well enough," she said. "Although I haven't been on board all that long yet, and I've been on so many ships, stations and colonies that they all kind of seem the same after a while. You settle in at one and you're still settled in at the next one."

Millie chuckled. "The colonies were easier to adjust to than a ship for me. This is my first somewhat-permanent assignment after several short colony postings. The hum of a ship was the hardest to get used to. That, and missing seeing the sun rise every morning." She smiled again. "What do you miss most?"

My family, Dakota thought but did not voice. She tilted her head slightly as she considered the question. "You mean while being posted on a ship or station instead of a colony?"

"It could be anything." The counselor gave a gentle smile. "Family, friends, a particular posting you were sad to leave. It could be a view out a particular window that you miss the most."

The security chief thought this an odd and somewhat silly line of questions, but she had come to expect that from counselors. "I suppose I miss Dacia. It was one of my colony postings."

Millie nodded. "Anything you think you'll miss from your posting? The...Adamant, wasn't it?"

Dakota shook her head. "I doubt it," she said simply. "I wasn't really there long enough to develop attachment." Of course, how long that took her compared to others was another matter.

There was a brief pause. "Any problems that you've found in adjusting to your new rank?"

That question drew a...derisive sound from the Chameloid. It was somewhere between a laugh, a snort, and a bark. One of those things that's really hard to put into words. She smiled, but it wasn't a pleasant look by any means. "Do I like it? No. And I could slug that major again for getting me into it. I worked hard to earn those three pips. But whatever. That's how life goes sometimes. I've adjusted. It's impossible to be happy about it, though."

Millie nodded. She seemed to do that often. "Had there been problems between the two of you before?"

"Don't know much about how Fleet security and Marines tend to work together, do ya?" Dakota asked casually.

The counselor smiled. "I will confess, you probably have more experience in this area than I do. The Mercutio is my first ship assignment. All of my other posts have been short-term crisis counseling assignments." She settled a little more comfortably into her seat. "What has that relationship been like on other ships you've served on?"

Dakota smirked. "Competitive. Both departments are active and more...combat-prone than other departments. So while, say, medical and counseling can overlap without much issue, security and Marines tend to overlap even more and with issue. Turf wars, one might say. Vying for territory."

Millie nodded in understanding. "I will confess that I have not seen such animosity in those two departments..." she trailed off, thinking for a moment. "However, it is unlike the Captain to send me into an away mission that requires both Security and the Marines." She smirked. "A couple of the crew members have insisted on training me in various combat forms. Apparently being a former ballerina makes me...breakable. Perhaps you could join us for a workout one morning, da?"

The security officer arched one brow. "I knew members of the Bolshoi Ballet. They were some of the toughest men and women I ever knew. They dance en pointe on broken toes. While sick. With no understudies and no break. I'm not sure how the one equates to the other," she said, utterly serious and straightforward. "However, as a security officer, I believe basic self-defense training is a good idea for anyone, and I will engage with crew in workouts and such training."

A smirk played at the corner of Millie's lips. Had the security officer read her file? Mentioning the Bolshoi was a bit specific. "I have been training with Ms. Banks in Intelligence. Rumor is that there is a betting pool as to how many times I land flat on my back."

Dakota smirked now. "You know the best way to deal with that, right?"

"Shoot her with a phaser?" Millie gave a soft giggle.

"Good guess," Dakota said. "But no. Bet on the pool yourself and then make sure that's the number of times you do it."

Millie laughed. "You don't know Ms. Banks. She will ensure I lose my own bet."

"Well, naturally she can't know it's your bet," Dakota returned.

"You would be more likely to get a Romulan to drink bloodwine than to keep a secret from that woman." Millie shifted, tucking both legs under her.

"No one is infallible," Dakota said, stone-cold serious. She'd gotten around intel officers before. She was about to say something else when her comm badge chirped.

"Lieutenant Dakota, please report to the security office."

"I'll be right there," she replied. She tilted her head and looked at the counselor with a hint of a curious cat to her body language. "Duty calls."

Millie gave a gentle smile and a nod. On this ship, there was always an interruption. "Until next time, Lieutenant."

Not if I can help it... Dakota thought but did not say, since she occasionally had self control. Instead, she smiled faintly and inclined her head. "Good day, Counselor," and then she was gone.

=/\= End Log =/\=

Lieutenant Dakota
Chief Security Officer, USS Mercutio

&

Lieutenant JG Aemilia "Millie" Stepanova
Chief Counselor, USS Mercutio