03-08-2026, 05:14 PM
"Alcohol," Tyra stated decisively, expression serious for a moment before the corner of her lip tugged up into the start of a crooked grin.
The grin lasted through a sip of her own alcohol before it dimmed to a thoughtful line, her head tilting back slightly as she considered the question.
Her career could be broken into sections, most bookended by tragedy and trauma. Her rise through the ranks had been less deliberate and thoughtful and more consequence of the chaos around her, her steps constantly propelled by vacuums in the system caused by loss.
"I'm not..." The redhead paused, eyes momentarily drawn to the swirling liquid in her glass as she absently shifted it. "I'm not sure I'm the ideal role model for that."
"I was so young and ideal when I graduated, a baby for all intents and purposes. Came out of the Academy in the last moments of peace between two conflicts and had no idea what awaited me."
"I rocketed through the ranks, not because I was some prophetic talent but because people died. A lot of people. And I can't fault command for just throwing more bodies at the problem or throwing people unprepared into leadership roles. They didn't have a choice but it was like drowning."
"I got angry. I never slept. I drank because numb was better than rage. Only real thing that kept me moving beyond pure spite was knowing that if I didn't take care of my people, no one would. They were just a statistic to everyone else but to me, they were people with families, dreams and very real fears."
She took a sip of her drink, letting the burn push back the bitter memory of those years.
She wasn't entirely sure how she'd survived those years; it certainly hadn't been through any desire for self-preservation. It hadn't mattered that there were people intent on dragging her through to safety but a combination of wisdom, maturity and growth had pushed her through. Thomas had a hand in it as well but she'd already been on the road back from Hell when she'd crossed his path. And Evie, well, she'd been the final piece of the puzzle.
"That's still true to this day. I may rail against the brass and be generally disillusioned by the politics of the Fleet but it's the fear of what will happen to my people when I move on that keeps me here."
She shrugged slightly. "You just have to find something that keeps you moving when things are terrible. Whether that's something idealistic like making the quadrant a better place or something smaller like keeping your crew safer, something that's a touchstone, a guiding light when everything is upside down."
"These days, in addition to taking care of y'all, I'll fight any war if it means my daughter won't have to. Is it likely? Hell no, but I can hope."
The grin lasted through a sip of her own alcohol before it dimmed to a thoughtful line, her head tilting back slightly as she considered the question.
Her career could be broken into sections, most bookended by tragedy and trauma. Her rise through the ranks had been less deliberate and thoughtful and more consequence of the chaos around her, her steps constantly propelled by vacuums in the system caused by loss.
"I'm not..." The redhead paused, eyes momentarily drawn to the swirling liquid in her glass as she absently shifted it. "I'm not sure I'm the ideal role model for that."
"I was so young and ideal when I graduated, a baby for all intents and purposes. Came out of the Academy in the last moments of peace between two conflicts and had no idea what awaited me."
"I rocketed through the ranks, not because I was some prophetic talent but because people died. A lot of people. And I can't fault command for just throwing more bodies at the problem or throwing people unprepared into leadership roles. They didn't have a choice but it was like drowning."
"I got angry. I never slept. I drank because numb was better than rage. Only real thing that kept me moving beyond pure spite was knowing that if I didn't take care of my people, no one would. They were just a statistic to everyone else but to me, they were people with families, dreams and very real fears."
She took a sip of her drink, letting the burn push back the bitter memory of those years.
She wasn't entirely sure how she'd survived those years; it certainly hadn't been through any desire for self-preservation. It hadn't mattered that there were people intent on dragging her through to safety but a combination of wisdom, maturity and growth had pushed her through. Thomas had a hand in it as well but she'd already been on the road back from Hell when she'd crossed his path. And Evie, well, she'd been the final piece of the puzzle.
"That's still true to this day. I may rail against the brass and be generally disillusioned by the politics of the Fleet but it's the fear of what will happen to my people when I move on that keeps me here."
She shrugged slightly. "You just have to find something that keeps you moving when things are terrible. Whether that's something idealistic like making the quadrant a better place or something smaller like keeping your crew safer, something that's a touchstone, a guiding light when everything is upside down."
"These days, in addition to taking care of y'all, I'll fight any war if it means my daughter won't have to. Is it likely? Hell no, but I can hope."