04-05-2025, 11:18 PM
Tyra's blue eyes had followed Nathan as he paced like heat seeking missiles; he'd probably feel the heat of the gaze even if her anger wasn't directed at him. It wasn't that she thought he was lying to her -- she wasn't sure he was actually capable of that, especially with her -- but she did think he was capable of omitting something to protect her.
As he spoke, she could feel her teeth grinding together, even as her stomach tied itself together in a mix of guilty and indignation. For all of his flaws and faults, Nathan was a good man and a good officer; it enraged her to no end to think that someone had taken his loyalty and used it against him. Knowing that she was part of the reason he had been aboard that Hellhole did nothing to ease the knot in her stomach and it only pulled tighter when she considered what would have happened had they not chased the vessel.
“… helped me negotiate with them, and eventually got them to make me an offer. They’d wipe my slate clean, provide me with full amnesty from the charges they had, and anything else that might come up from revelations in the future about Pomn. In return, I had to provide some information, with specifics about the Klingons we had faced on Pomn, and the cartel. I also had to agree to do this mission…”
As Nathan sighed, she leaned forward to press her elbows into her knees and her face into her hands as if that was going to somehow make all of this more palatable. She had to bite back a groan as he completed the thought, voicing concerns about not being able to stay in the Fleet if he didn't complete their demands. As if the uniform was worth the risk to his life, though she supposed she'd done a terrible job of modeling a healthy respect for her own life throughout her command career.
As he shifted to his recent time on the Crusader, she couldn't help but look up at him again. She felt like that knot in her stomach had become a knife, slicing at the weak spot that had Nathan Ramius' name written all over. Because all she had ever really wanted for him was for Nathan to flourish into the officer she had always known him capable of being. It was why she hadn't murdered him in the Getty's belly during his first mission; he'd reminded her so much of herself when she'd been a young officer and all she had needed was someone to have the patience to mold her idealism into something more realistic and productive. It was why she hadn't jettisoned him after Pomn because she wasn't sure there was anyone she'd seen more potential in than Nathan and Ben. I
And to know that he'd found his place and he'd stepped into that potential, only have to it ripped away hurt in a way that she wasn't certain she could describe.
“It felt like I had to at least try to save it, right? Or else, what was it all for?”
She opened her mouth, wanting to offer some sort of guidance or comfort, but found herself at a loss. Then again, this seemed like something Nathan needed to get off his chest with the minimal amount of interruptions.
When his statement turned the conditions related to her, she couldn't help the heavy sigh that escaped or giving in to desire to allow herself to flop backwards onto the transporter pad as if the ceiling would hold some sort of answer for her.
If his agreement had included removing her from the Pomn investigation and allowing her to remain on Artemis, Bill had shown his hand and intention needlessly. It was likely Bill wouldn't know about such an agreement -- she couldn't imagine he would have stomached the stonewalling of a young officer -- or if he had, he hadn't trusted it. After all, even if the agreement took her actions related to Pomn off the table, she still could be flayed open for her decisions related to the Callisto's retrieval. That was assuming anyone had any intentions of keeping that agreement when it seemed Nathan might have been sent off to a hasty death.
She didn't sit up until the venom of Nathan's last words hit her in the chest, first propping herself up before sitting up fully to frown over the name he'd provided. After all, she had grown up amongst the admiralty and married into it too; there weren't many admirals that she hadn't at least heard of. Yet that name didn't ring a bell.
"I don't kn--" Her words stalled as her nose crinkled. For a split second, the corner of her lips twisted up into the beginnings of a wistful smile before it settled into a confused set.
The memory was light and soft, like champagne bubbles. A friendly hand on her arm, warm and sparkling hazel eyes and a set of dimples that quite frankly should have been illegal. She'd been in the hey day of her single life at that Founder's Day gala but Adam Yegorov had come armed with a devastating smile and the offer of a free drink or two, more than enough to convince a much younger Tyra to ditch her date for the night. He'd been delightful company and she had been disappointed that he'd never called her afterwards but the Fates had known what they were doing as she'd only been a handful of months away from meeting Thomas. They'd crossed paths occasionally over the years and always shared a drink together when possible but never anything more.
And yet, that memory wasn't the one nudging the edge of her subconscious, Adam wasn't the Yegorov in question after all. Adam had approached her that night for more than just flirting and company; she remembered the first drink being tied to his appreciation for how her team had handled a recent event involving his younger brother but there had been a rather bashful apology right on its heels. An apology relating to his father, which she had wholeheartedly related to.
Her frown deepened for a second as she tried to recall what the apology had been for but it was only a moment or two before the memory surfaced like a freight train.
Her neck hurt. That was her first conscious thought as her blue eyes opened, taking in the dimness of Sickbay.
She remembered Doctor Lewis finding her a chair and she remembered stubbornly wedging it between the first two biobeds. She didn't remember falling asleep but there she was, precariously balanced on the chair so that her socked feet could prop up on Tarek's bed and her head could rest on the edge of Logan's. She shifted slightly to see further into the room, her movement just barely bumping Logan, who had used the crown of her head as a pillow for his cheek.
She could see her boots and security jacket neatly folded at the end of the bed, a state she definitely hadn't left them in. She saw a sliver of light cross the deck as the CMO's office door opened and Lewis stepped into the doorway. Her dark eyes skimmed her domain, pausing momentarily as she met Tyra's gaze before continuing. Something has seemingly caught her attention, much like it had woken Tyra.
It took a second to recognize a low rumble as being the offending noise. Her blue eyes had quickly scanned down the row of filled biobeds, expecting to see one of them flashing red but all was quiet on the eastern front. It was actually two distinct rumbles, voices low and intense, that were breaking the stillness of Sickbay but she couldn’t pinpoint where they were coming from except that they weren't on this side of Sickbay.
The suspense was short lived as one of the exam rooms on the far side opened. Even in the semi-darkness, she recognized the tall, wiry frame of her boss, Commodore James Macdonald, but the stocky figure behind him, dressed in what looked like a commodore's command uniform, was unknown to her. Doctor Lewis seemed to recognize him though as her expression shifted to admonishing. However, she never got the chance to voice that feeling before what had been a verbal altercation had escalated faster than anyone could react.
Tyra wasn't sure who threw the first punch but there had been at least three thrown before she managed to clear the space between them, her chair screeching against the metal of the biobed in her hurry. Her shoulder had gone directly into James' sternum as Lewis made an effort to push the other man back. James had strained against her, even after she had planted two hands on his chest to push him back with a threat to remind him why she had boxing trophies in her office, but the fight ended as quickly as it started.
It wasn't until much later that she learned she'd come about ten seconds away from taking a haymaker to the back of her head before Lewis had successfully stuck a hypospray into the neck of the other Commodore. Somehow, none of the wounded had woken up during the short lived melee and Tyra never found out what the fight was about. There must have been some agreement reached between the two because the next time she'd come face to face with Commodore Yegorov, the fleet commander for the fleet they'd been assisting, he was nothing but gracious and accommodating during the AAR.
She supposed in the intervening years that Yegorov might have risen further in the ranks; even if he'd been incompetent, the last 15 years had provided the perfect opportunity for promotion, though she hadn't judged him as incompetent at the time. Hotheaded, stubborn and brash, absolutely but corrupt or incompetent, no. However, she knew that grief was a bitter mistress and more than capable of twisting a man to her whim; she knew Adam had died during the battle of Tellar and Logan had told her that the younger brother, Max, had died during the Megasphere battle. Logan had suggested it was more proof that their work with CSAR had merely postponed the Grim Reaper in most cases. Regardless, was that enough to bring someone to this type of level? Was that even the same Yegorov?
She shook her head, trying to pull herself back to the here and now. "I might know of an Admiral Yegorov but I'm not sure. I'd have to have someone look into it…"
Her blue eyes sought Nathan's, the intensity of her gaze intense once more. There was anger certainly but there was something else simmering in the depths. "What would have happened to you if we hadn't shown up?"
And then, as if she wasn't certain she actually wanted to hear the answer, she reached out and caught the edge of his sleeve.
"You know that you're worth more than this, right?" Her fingers tugged just slightly, her expression having turned into a little frown as she considered something. "The uniform, I mean. I know that probably sounds extremely hypocritical from me of all people but you're worthy whether you wear the uniform or not. I need you to know and understand that because you don't deserve to be a pawn in someone's sick game."
== Tag! ==
As he spoke, she could feel her teeth grinding together, even as her stomach tied itself together in a mix of guilty and indignation. For all of his flaws and faults, Nathan was a good man and a good officer; it enraged her to no end to think that someone had taken his loyalty and used it against him. Knowing that she was part of the reason he had been aboard that Hellhole did nothing to ease the knot in her stomach and it only pulled tighter when she considered what would have happened had they not chased the vessel.
“… helped me negotiate with them, and eventually got them to make me an offer. They’d wipe my slate clean, provide me with full amnesty from the charges they had, and anything else that might come up from revelations in the future about Pomn. In return, I had to provide some information, with specifics about the Klingons we had faced on Pomn, and the cartel. I also had to agree to do this mission…”
As Nathan sighed, she leaned forward to press her elbows into her knees and her face into her hands as if that was going to somehow make all of this more palatable. She had to bite back a groan as he completed the thought, voicing concerns about not being able to stay in the Fleet if he didn't complete their demands. As if the uniform was worth the risk to his life, though she supposed she'd done a terrible job of modeling a healthy respect for her own life throughout her command career.
As he shifted to his recent time on the Crusader, she couldn't help but look up at him again. She felt like that knot in her stomach had become a knife, slicing at the weak spot that had Nathan Ramius' name written all over. Because all she had ever really wanted for him was for Nathan to flourish into the officer she had always known him capable of being. It was why she hadn't murdered him in the Getty's belly during his first mission; he'd reminded her so much of herself when she'd been a young officer and all she had needed was someone to have the patience to mold her idealism into something more realistic and productive. It was why she hadn't jettisoned him after Pomn because she wasn't sure there was anyone she'd seen more potential in than Nathan and Ben. I
And to know that he'd found his place and he'd stepped into that potential, only have to it ripped away hurt in a way that she wasn't certain she could describe.
“It felt like I had to at least try to save it, right? Or else, what was it all for?”
She opened her mouth, wanting to offer some sort of guidance or comfort, but found herself at a loss. Then again, this seemed like something Nathan needed to get off his chest with the minimal amount of interruptions.
When his statement turned the conditions related to her, she couldn't help the heavy sigh that escaped or giving in to desire to allow herself to flop backwards onto the transporter pad as if the ceiling would hold some sort of answer for her.
If his agreement had included removing her from the Pomn investigation and allowing her to remain on Artemis, Bill had shown his hand and intention needlessly. It was likely Bill wouldn't know about such an agreement -- she couldn't imagine he would have stomached the stonewalling of a young officer -- or if he had, he hadn't trusted it. After all, even if the agreement took her actions related to Pomn off the table, she still could be flayed open for her decisions related to the Callisto's retrieval. That was assuming anyone had any intentions of keeping that agreement when it seemed Nathan might have been sent off to a hasty death.
She didn't sit up until the venom of Nathan's last words hit her in the chest, first propping herself up before sitting up fully to frown over the name he'd provided. After all, she had grown up amongst the admiralty and married into it too; there weren't many admirals that she hadn't at least heard of. Yet that name didn't ring a bell.
"I don't kn--" Her words stalled as her nose crinkled. For a split second, the corner of her lips twisted up into the beginnings of a wistful smile before it settled into a confused set.
The memory was light and soft, like champagne bubbles. A friendly hand on her arm, warm and sparkling hazel eyes and a set of dimples that quite frankly should have been illegal. She'd been in the hey day of her single life at that Founder's Day gala but Adam Yegorov had come armed with a devastating smile and the offer of a free drink or two, more than enough to convince a much younger Tyra to ditch her date for the night. He'd been delightful company and she had been disappointed that he'd never called her afterwards but the Fates had known what they were doing as she'd only been a handful of months away from meeting Thomas. They'd crossed paths occasionally over the years and always shared a drink together when possible but never anything more.
And yet, that memory wasn't the one nudging the edge of her subconscious, Adam wasn't the Yegorov in question after all. Adam had approached her that night for more than just flirting and company; she remembered the first drink being tied to his appreciation for how her team had handled a recent event involving his younger brother but there had been a rather bashful apology right on its heels. An apology relating to his father, which she had wholeheartedly related to.
Her frown deepened for a second as she tried to recall what the apology had been for but it was only a moment or two before the memory surfaced like a freight train.
Her neck hurt. That was her first conscious thought as her blue eyes opened, taking in the dimness of Sickbay.
She remembered Doctor Lewis finding her a chair and she remembered stubbornly wedging it between the first two biobeds. She didn't remember falling asleep but there she was, precariously balanced on the chair so that her socked feet could prop up on Tarek's bed and her head could rest on the edge of Logan's. She shifted slightly to see further into the room, her movement just barely bumping Logan, who had used the crown of her head as a pillow for his cheek.
She could see her boots and security jacket neatly folded at the end of the bed, a state she definitely hadn't left them in. She saw a sliver of light cross the deck as the CMO's office door opened and Lewis stepped into the doorway. Her dark eyes skimmed her domain, pausing momentarily as she met Tyra's gaze before continuing. Something has seemingly caught her attention, much like it had woken Tyra.
It took a second to recognize a low rumble as being the offending noise. Her blue eyes had quickly scanned down the row of filled biobeds, expecting to see one of them flashing red but all was quiet on the eastern front. It was actually two distinct rumbles, voices low and intense, that were breaking the stillness of Sickbay but she couldn’t pinpoint where they were coming from except that they weren't on this side of Sickbay.
The suspense was short lived as one of the exam rooms on the far side opened. Even in the semi-darkness, she recognized the tall, wiry frame of her boss, Commodore James Macdonald, but the stocky figure behind him, dressed in what looked like a commodore's command uniform, was unknown to her. Doctor Lewis seemed to recognize him though as her expression shifted to admonishing. However, she never got the chance to voice that feeling before what had been a verbal altercation had escalated faster than anyone could react.
Tyra wasn't sure who threw the first punch but there had been at least three thrown before she managed to clear the space between them, her chair screeching against the metal of the biobed in her hurry. Her shoulder had gone directly into James' sternum as Lewis made an effort to push the other man back. James had strained against her, even after she had planted two hands on his chest to push him back with a threat to remind him why she had boxing trophies in her office, but the fight ended as quickly as it started.
It wasn't until much later that she learned she'd come about ten seconds away from taking a haymaker to the back of her head before Lewis had successfully stuck a hypospray into the neck of the other Commodore. Somehow, none of the wounded had woken up during the short lived melee and Tyra never found out what the fight was about. There must have been some agreement reached between the two because the next time she'd come face to face with Commodore Yegorov, the fleet commander for the fleet they'd been assisting, he was nothing but gracious and accommodating during the AAR.
She supposed in the intervening years that Yegorov might have risen further in the ranks; even if he'd been incompetent, the last 15 years had provided the perfect opportunity for promotion, though she hadn't judged him as incompetent at the time. Hotheaded, stubborn and brash, absolutely but corrupt or incompetent, no. However, she knew that grief was a bitter mistress and more than capable of twisting a man to her whim; she knew Adam had died during the battle of Tellar and Logan had told her that the younger brother, Max, had died during the Megasphere battle. Logan had suggested it was more proof that their work with CSAR had merely postponed the Grim Reaper in most cases. Regardless, was that enough to bring someone to this type of level? Was that even the same Yegorov?
She shook her head, trying to pull herself back to the here and now. "I might know of an Admiral Yegorov but I'm not sure. I'd have to have someone look into it…"
Her blue eyes sought Nathan's, the intensity of her gaze intense once more. There was anger certainly but there was something else simmering in the depths. "What would have happened to you if we hadn't shown up?"
And then, as if she wasn't certain she actually wanted to hear the answer, she reached out and caught the edge of his sleeve.
"You know that you're worth more than this, right?" Her fingers tugged just slightly, her expression having turned into a little frown as she considered something. "The uniform, I mean. I know that probably sounds extremely hypocritical from me of all people but you're worthy whether you wear the uniform or not. I need you to know and understand that because you don't deserve to be a pawn in someone's sick game."
== Tag! ==