4 hours ago
"Alcohol," Tyra stated decisively.
Mara’s face fell, only rallying a little at the redhead’s grin. Alcohol was something the Bandaran had firmly rejected and everything she had seen since told her that she had made one of her better calls with that decision. It was disheartening to hear that someone she looked up to held a very different viewpoint.
But the more Crawford spoke, the more Calleja started to at least see the reasons behind it. She didn’t need the details to see how hard things had been for the senior officer. All the evidence was right there in her eyes and her voice. It wasn’t a coping strategy that the Bandaran would ever take for her own but whatever she thought of it, it had worked.
"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."
There were a few moments of silence as Mara finished her coffee and tried to marshal her thoughts.
“It was carin’ for people that got me into this,” she said eventually. “I couldn’t save my sister. Or a lot o’ the friends I had back in the day. But there’s been more’n a few I have been able to keep safe since then. It’s what led me to Star Fleet. How many more could I protect back home with Federation trainin’ and education behind me. And now I’m lookin’ out wider. If I make it as far as you have, the good I’ll have done will be enough to clean my hands. I guess I do cling to that.”
Calleja sighed.
“I feel like maybe I should go home for a bit, try and centre myself a lil’, but I just don’t wanna deal with that. My dad sent me a message. There’s an actual exhibition now in the Bandaran Senate buildin’ after they found out I got COS. ‘Lieutenant Mara Calleja, the Next Great Hope for Bandar IV’.” The look of distaste on her lips made it abundantly clear what she felt about that. “I wanted him to shut it down ‘cause just the thought of it makes me sick but turns out, he was the one handin’ them all the stuff I sent home to be looked after. I can’t deal with that. You told me I got potential earlier, I blushed. I can’t even begin to process what goin’ home would do to me now.”
Even talking about it made her genuinely uncomfortable. The Bandaran reformer who had dragged the planet into Federation membership, Roana Taelor, had been a COS and Lieutenant Commander before she found herself the victim of Star Fleet politics and returned home. No other Bandaran had ever risen past Ensign until Mara had, and now she shared the job title if not the rank of the woman who had changed the planet.
“So I gotta find somethin’ else to hang onto, I guess,” Mara said. “No offence but alcohol is a non-starter. I’m batshit crazy enough as it is, and you want me drinkin’ on top o’ that? I’ll pass thanks.” She did at least manage a smile as she spoke. “If nothin’ else, I’ll fight for this crew. I feel like I’ve come so far since I came here. I can believe in what we’re doin’, and without meanin’ to blow smoke up your arse I can believe in you as well. I wanna help keep this lot safe, even in the cases where I gotta keep them safe from themselves.”
She thought about what she’d just said and the smile returned.
“And yeah, I did just realise I’m probably one o’ those who needs savin’ from myself. But at least I’m aware of it.”
Mara’s face fell, only rallying a little at the redhead’s grin. Alcohol was something the Bandaran had firmly rejected and everything she had seen since told her that she had made one of her better calls with that decision. It was disheartening to hear that someone she looked up to held a very different viewpoint.
But the more Crawford spoke, the more Calleja started to at least see the reasons behind it. She didn’t need the details to see how hard things had been for the senior officer. All the evidence was right there in her eyes and her voice. It wasn’t a coping strategy that the Bandaran would ever take for her own but whatever she thought of it, it had worked.
"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."
There were a few moments of silence as Mara finished her coffee and tried to marshal her thoughts.
“It was carin’ for people that got me into this,” she said eventually. “I couldn’t save my sister. Or a lot o’ the friends I had back in the day. But there’s been more’n a few I have been able to keep safe since then. It’s what led me to Star Fleet. How many more could I protect back home with Federation trainin’ and education behind me. And now I’m lookin’ out wider. If I make it as far as you have, the good I’ll have done will be enough to clean my hands. I guess I do cling to that.”
Calleja sighed.
“I feel like maybe I should go home for a bit, try and centre myself a lil’, but I just don’t wanna deal with that. My dad sent me a message. There’s an actual exhibition now in the Bandaran Senate buildin’ after they found out I got COS. ‘Lieutenant Mara Calleja, the Next Great Hope for Bandar IV’.” The look of distaste on her lips made it abundantly clear what she felt about that. “I wanted him to shut it down ‘cause just the thought of it makes me sick but turns out, he was the one handin’ them all the stuff I sent home to be looked after. I can’t deal with that. You told me I got potential earlier, I blushed. I can’t even begin to process what goin’ home would do to me now.”
Even talking about it made her genuinely uncomfortable. The Bandaran reformer who had dragged the planet into Federation membership, Roana Taelor, had been a COS and Lieutenant Commander before she found herself the victim of Star Fleet politics and returned home. No other Bandaran had ever risen past Ensign until Mara had, and now she shared the job title if not the rank of the woman who had changed the planet.
“So I gotta find somethin’ else to hang onto, I guess,” Mara said. “No offence but alcohol is a non-starter. I’m batshit crazy enough as it is, and you want me drinkin’ on top o’ that? I’ll pass thanks.” She did at least manage a smile as she spoke. “If nothin’ else, I’ll fight for this crew. I feel like I’ve come so far since I came here. I can believe in what we’re doin’, and without meanin’ to blow smoke up your arse I can believe in you as well. I wanna help keep this lot safe, even in the cases where I gotta keep them safe from themselves.”
She thought about what she’d just said and the smile returned.
“And yeah, I did just realise I’m probably one o’ those who needs savin’ from myself. But at least I’m aware of it.”