Snippet #2448443

"You heard the LC Gunnarson. Report to the Hangar bay for Tactical assessment with Lieutenant Commander Kalre."

"Aye Sir" Gunnarson started to walk off towards the hangar bays. He hadn't yet had a chance to meet Commander Kalre. Well probably time to get THIS over with. As he marched down the hallways he drew a lot of stares, Marines with a full combat loadout often did. Making his way to the hangar bay he spied Virana Kalre sketching out plans for her flight teams quickly on the stabilizer wings of one of the shuttles. She was still in her dress uniform but she'd rolled down the top half and tied it around her waist mechanic style for ease of movement. Not a bad idea he thought as he admired her form through the t-shirt she had been wearing under that.

As he approached she turned to greet him and he threw off a casual salute and extended his hand. "Lieutenant-Major Gunnarson Ma'am. I understand you have some Tac ideas for us." He probed. If she actually thought she could tell him what to do on the ground with his marines. Well, she was sadly fucking mistaken. As she reached over and shook his hand with a firm grip he looked into her eyes. What he saw made him freeze. His grip tightened involuntarily. Species identification training came back to him Black Irises: Betazoid. He immediately started emptying his mind of everything but his anger. Right back to interrogation 101 anger fuels the mind for short periods, keeps you marginally sane, and blocks out critical or sensitive information. "You're Betazoid." He said as he released her hand. "Going forward you need to understand the following. DO NOT go snooping around my brain. There is classified information in there that you do not have clearance to know. Now, what have you got for me."