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Posted on Fri Sep 16th, 2011 @ 8:05pm by Lieutenant Commander Nauket Kulvher

Mission: All Souls Descend. Season 2, Episode 6
Location: Promenade

Smell; it has always been said to be the strongest sense of Human recollection. Such was not the case in Cardassian anatomy. Yet somehow the seemingly faded smell of the illustrious station, it's militarized making and orderly presentation a proud view, brought the often visited nostalgia over Nauket like docile waves. She was intricate in her step, never faltering in her display of authority and position. Being so deeply entwined in the Intelligence administration granted her some level of elusion to even her own loyalties. That was part of the fun of things, as far as fun was concerned in her years of work.

It certainly was not that the once child prospect of the Obsidian Order, now Starfleet officer, had never been back to Cardassia Prime, nor been aboard Cardassian ships or stations, but it had certainly been long enough since her last visit to a Nor class station. Long enough to spin a intricate web of thoughts filed away to forget.

Nauket hardly shared the common courtesy of acknowledging those around her. Gawking eyes of awkward officers were irrelevant, and though in recent months the swelling issue of Cardassian racism on Earth had provoked a bad nerve in her body, she remained appearing rather apathetic to her surroundings. Apathy was and probably always would be her greatest ally. It was a tough line of work for a Cardassian in the fleet, there was no doubt, but a minority to Starfleet of any kind was a wildly under managed issue.

Still, her duties were nigh. Now was a time to take what was given as a self proclaimed opportunity by it's issuer and taken as a hush assignment and provide what she always had; an exemplary job.

Even now, she may not have been arranged for duty for another three and a half hours, but Nauket was never one to waste time. Her eyes fixated on the first free work console on the outer walls of the Promenade. She had made no sentimental departure from the Diaka, which was nothing out of the norm for the woman. Instead she headed to her duties, ignoring her new crew mates and civilians alike, who seemed all to willing to leave her on her way. The sound of life among the Promenade was drowned out by her own focus as she nestled in to the spot before the console. Her eyes scanned the screen, displaying Federation crest, and rotating ship-wide news along the side.

It only took her a moment before she dove in to the systems, checking personnel files and department statuses. She had gone through the information given to her on the hurried push for her departure from Earth, but it left a dissatisfied taste in her mouth. There was always more to everything, and though the Promenade was hardly the place to take to research, it would do for the time being. She was, after all, compulsive about her first impressions.

Near by, her eyes caught the attention of a young Bajoran woman. Nauket had never been one to stare, but the strange air of the station brought her senses to a heightened state. Mindlessly she watched the tall Bajoran speak to another. The reflection of light from the silver ear cuff seemingly danced in her mind as she closed her eyes.

The familiar face she had only on occasion thought about took form in her mind. The long flowing straight strands of chestnut hair draped off the bed in dim light. Her own cuff absorbed light, reflecting back until Nauket opened her eyes once more, averting her attention back to the screen. Taking in little bits of informations he had not yet read about the station's changes since it's Fleet take over, she seemed distracted still.

"You can't just change the way things are." The voice whispered in her mind. It felt so realistic, causing her to close her eyes once more. The view of such a beautiful Bajoran sent a pang throughout her body, reminding her of a time long over now.

A sigh escaped her lips, coming in hand with a shroud of her shoulders to shake off the feeling. Not a moment later, she inserted an isolinear chip in to the console, uploading its contents. It only took twenty-four seconds before it was done, and so was she. Closing the open information files, Nauket drew back from the console before her. She had things to take care of now.

"Whether they're right or wrong."


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