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Posted on Mon Feb 10th, 2020 @ 4:53pm by Commander Christine Descharmes
Edited on on Mon Feb 10th, 2020 @ 5:12pm

Mission: Between the Pages
Location: USS Shanghai
Timeline: on route to Golovin


It took a bit of time but after she stepped off the transporter pad, she found her quarters. A bit of trouble locating what deck she was on and getting herself turned around but in the end, the computer sent her in the right direction. As soon as the door hissed shut behind her, she let out a long sigh. She quickly removed her leather jacket and tossed it onto a chair. She removed a d'k tahg she had hidden away in the small of her back, tucked between the waistband of her pants and her shirt and tossed it onto a nearby table.

She stood with her hands on hips, eyes quickly glancing around the larger-than-expected living space. It was not exactly cluttered, but neither was it organized impeccably. "Interesting taste," she said, one eyebrow raised. Christine crossed to the small workspace and opened up the console. She tapped a few controls and frowned. "Ghay'cha'!" she cursed, the universal translator picking up the Klingon and translating it to Standard. "Damn it." She'd have to get them to reset her authorization code, adding it to her mental checklist.

"Computer, pull up the file of Christine Descharmes," she said, plunking herself down in the chair and spun towards the screen. Well, at least the computer still recognized her voice. She scrolled through the information contained, examining in closer detail of her life; her early years on into her Starfleet career, and digging deeper into her personal life which would be an asset over here. "Interesting...interesting...very interesting," she said, raising an eyebrow and sitting up straight in her chair. "Hmm." Married. That was worth noting, and especially to who. And currently on medical leave. That would have to change. I'm not sitting around here the entire time.

Christine took a break from reading the minor details of her counterpart's life when she had another thought. She knew very well that she did not speak with a 'French' accent as she did not grow up on Earth. She had spent most of her life as a captive of the Klingons until an unfortunate attack had freed her from their constraints and set her on the path towards the benevolent Empress Zhen Ci. "Computer, play personal logs in reverse order, starting with the most recent," she ordered, moving off from the desk. The computer acknowledged with a beep.

Lieutenant Christine Descharmes' Personal Log, Stardate... It rambled on. She definitely enjoyed hearing herself speak, and the tone of her voice was melodic and a higher pitch then her own. It seemed the Lieutenant had found herself recently pregnant. Reasons to keep one's legs closed. Christine repeated a sentence or two, varying the degree and pace at which she spoke, changing the inflection to match. She was well aware she spoke with a different accent, the equivalent of a Klingon speaking this Standard. Every word emphasized and spoken deliberately. It was a vast change compared to the smooth and soft way of speaking her counterpart possessed.

Lieutenant Christine Descharmes' Personal Log, Stardate... The playback began. Another rather very personal log relating to the marriage. She raised an eyebrow. A secret? She wondered how much of a secret it was. She followed along with the log. She had a hard time keeping pace and the computer moved on to the next.

It moved through the list. Seppala. Seppala. Golovin. A few titled Cyen. As far as the extremely personal ones, there were only a couple more with the rest relating to the missions she had recently undergone. She repeated certain lines; words, and phrases that seemed to occur more often. A couple of hours passed before she uttered another expletive in Klingon, growing frustrated at the lack of progress. Then again, that is to be expected from someone whose primary language for the last twelve years had been Klingon. Christine could simply speak Klingon, they would never know but then again, they might. She would simply have to practice when she was here, alone.

With a frustrated sigh, she stood up from the desk and moved back to the table. Her counterpart wore shorter hair than her and taking the knife, she grabbed a handful of her hair and in one swift downward stroke, severed the golden strands just above her shoulder. She repeated the move on the side before she headed for the bathroom, to use a mirror to finish up and even it out. Christine repeated a couple of phrases in Standard. She supposed it was getting easier. She set the d'k tahg on the edge of the basin and stared at her reflection. It was passable. The real work would begin now, passing herself off as a member of the crew while she dug around for relevant information. She would hate to go back empty-handed.

"All hail the glorious golden Empress Zhen Ci," she said and smiled.



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