<br/><div class="floatright">(https://t01.deviantart.net/BTtmpGl6TfPHO2edEPgORn_qZtI=/fit-in/700x350/filters:fixed_height(100,100):origin()/pre01/cf55/th/pre/i/2008/140/8/c/star_trek_series_2___14_by_chonastock.jpg)</div><div class="floatright"><strong>Character Name:</strong> Ensign Ithali sh'Rhynek<br/><strong>Location:</strong> Angel's Rest<br/><strong>Mentioning:</strong> Dp. Att. Kir-Je<br/></div><br/><br/>Ithali smiled a bit at his explanation for all his round-about talking. Politicians. She really couldn't get along with that sort. Though she did appreciate the wordy and extravagant Trill's honesty at only knowing a few things about her. Unless of course he was taking a politicians route and trying to sweetened her into trusting him. Which wasn't going to happen. Handsome as Trills and human men were, her past experiences with those that had a skill of lovely sweet words told her never to completely trust them. They were good for games and bedding and sometimes sparring, but never could be, as the human saying went, 'trusted as far as they could be thrown'. Though she trusted them even less, considering she could probably throw them a rather nice distance.<br/><br/>"I appreciate your effort on my name," she offered him something a bit kinder than her inner thoughts, "Shall I lead the way as we speak?" Standing and making sure to lessen her gait so they could maintain a comfortable pace, the Andorian female in all her ethereal grace kept her hands comfortably by her sides as each long leg made its effortless move forwards. While humans walked with a bit of a resilient saunter and Klingons had a strong intimidating swagger, Andorians walked as if gliding on an inch of air right above the ground. A ghostly waltz. It was just their way. The gravity the other races were used to was different than the cerulean race's planets.<br/><br/>"While unarmed protection is the request..." her voice slipped about the skin like cold silk, her more stern tone it seemed, "It puts the security detail in ample more danger in case there is trouble. While the ambassador may be the target, it is the security officers that will step in the line of fire." She put a hand on her curving hip clad in the striking red uniform. "Your ambassador is inviting more dangerous situation than they realize," she stopped before the door and let it open, before entering the hall. He must know all of this of course, but she was still going to voice her protest.<br/><br/>"I agree with your...'bureaucratic concept' then," she looked at him and lifted a brow slightly, almost showing an amused expression, "I also agree with the suggestion that the unit constructed by proficient in close and unarmed combat." Ithali noticed the drop of his gaze. Almost tempted to look down at first, it took her a minute to realize his eyes had been drawn to her legs. Long legs hidden in black skin tight cloth for the very reason of ensuring others would not be too...distracted. It wasn't her fault the uniform looked like a dress with a miniskirt hem on her body. And any way, she rather liked her legs. What was is that human male had said a few nights ago? 'Legs for days'?<br/><br/>"My skills are many, Diplomatic Attache Kir-Je," she stopped in the hall and leaned towards him a bit, a hand on her hip, "If it is my combat skills you worry for..." She tapped a forefinger on his chest, "...then you really are trying to tempt me into challenging you to a little spar." Her eyes lowered darkened lashes over burning green eyes, snow white hair haloing around her azure face. "Combat is as natural and instinctual as<em>mating</em>for Andorians," her voice coiled warmly through the air before she leaned back to regard him almost a bit analytically with a hint of teasing arrogance, "As a personal attache, what is your prime skill? Talking circles around your adversary, Tether-Tongue?"