From: rneces@mastnet.net (Lynnaea AelCaymarth) Date: Mon, 14 Apr 1997 16:03:39 -0500 (CDT) Subject: USS CHESAPEAKE: Reality Check
SD 90414.0350 GMT
MD 04.1530
Scene: PO/3 Bancroft's quarters
____________________
Dana sat, blankly staring out the window. She was numb. Couldn't
feel. Couldn't think. She only knew that she had made a mistake that had
put someone else's career in jeopardy.
The door softly chimed. "Enter," came her monotone reply.
Damien stood in the doorway, the light of the hall illuminating his
blond hair in the dim light of Dana's room. "Hey."
"Hey."
Damien came to sit on her bed. The familiarity was new, but
unspoken. "Dana, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you like
that."
"You didn't -- "
"I did. It was wrong and I'm sorry. K'tar D'varen will be your
instructor now." Damien stood to leave.
"Damien." Her voice cracked with unspoken emotion.
He stopped and looked down at her glistening eyes, and gently put
his hand to her face. "I know, Dana. There's nothing I can do."
"But it's not right for her to separate us!"
"Yes, it is." His voice was pained and patient. "We were on duty,
Dana."
"But... other officers have romances..."
"Dana. Stop and think. What would happen if you were promoted?"
"Nothing," she replied stubbornly, although she knew fully well
where he was going.
"They'd say you pulled strings with me."
"So? Sour grapes."
Damien shook his head. "Suit yourself, Dana. It can't be." He left.
Dana slowly slumped against her bed, muffling her sobs in the
pillow.
[Meanwhile, in the CSO's Office]
Aelyria returned from her meeting with Shachor to find herself
surprisingly drained. *Why am I so tired?* she wondered. *There's really
no reason for it.*
She knew, really, what she was tired of. She was tired of a skitzy
department. She was tired of stamping out the flames of love wherever she
went. Tired of feeling incompetent, and *especially* tired of knowing her
department's less than shining reputation.
And she was tired of mentally kicking herself for not having a nice
relaxing fling with Torr. *Come to think of it, when _was_ the last time
you had --
-- WE ARE NOT GOING TO THINK ABOUT THAT.* She derailed that
particular train of thought like the Berlin Wall over the train tracks.
*Relaxing, my ass. You'd be using him and create more tension in the
department. Do you *really* wanna screw this posting up or are you just
suicidal? Jaezus. You're just horny. You'll live. Forget about it.*
Aelyria realized she was thinking in plural. *We? Great. Add
schizophrenia to my list of documented psychoses. Wouldn't Mr. Tats-Marush
just *love* to hear about that?*
Tired. She was really really tired. Maybe another workout would
energize her. But... first, she'd just rest. Just for a little bit, and
then get back on with her job.
MD: 05.1100
Aelyria awoke groggily to hands roughly shaking her. "Wake up!
Right now, Aelyria!"
"Mother, it's Saturday," she groaned. "Do I have to..?"
The hands got rougher, and Aelyria cracked an eye. If it was
Theresa, bloody grim death would ensue. If it was her mother...well, maybe
it wouldn't.
It was Torr.
"Dammit, are you a helldemon sent to torture me in this life, or do
you just happen to like making me miserable through a genetic
predisposition?" she croaked through a sleep-dry throat.
Dannon's patience was wearing dangerously thin. "This is no time
for wiseass comments, Keyrin! You're *late!* "
"For what?" She snapped, her eyes slamming awake.
"For the diagnostic drills, you idiot!"
"Diagnostics?" She blinked.
"DON'T YOU KNOW WE LAUNCH IN THREE HOURS?????????"
"WHAT?" She shrieked.
"We. Launch. In. Three. Hours," he bit out. "And we have
diagnostics to run. So would you care to supervise this or shall I tell
your department that you're too exhausted to do your job?"
Without thinking, Aelyria's hand flew from her and struck a hard
sharp blow across Dannon's face. "How dare you question me - "
He looked at her with eyes of hardened steel. "Get a grip on
yourself, or I resign."
With that, he turned, and left the room.
The seconds ticked by.
An overwhelming sense of emptiness enveloped her as she stood,
gazing at the shut doors. How had she not known? Surely she would have
been informed..
Thinking, she checked her messages. There it was. "All senior
officers: Be advised this ship will launch at 1400 hours. Mission Briefing
at 1500."
Shit...
She stood there, gazing at her monitor, wondering how she had let
things come to this.
Shit was about the only word for it.
Respectfully submitted,
Lynnaea AelCaymarth, aka
ENS Aelyria Keyrin, CSO, USS CHESAPEAKE
ENS Elesse Lyscarta, CNS, USS CHARLEMAGNE
LT Joshua Brighton, CMO, USS DAEDALUS
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