05-29-2024, 02:35 AM
== Shortly after docking at DS9 ==
It was funny how brave people could be such cowards when it came to matters of the heart. Tyra never truly considered herself to be in that category, not until this debacle, not until she couldn't even stomach sending Thomas more than a cryptic one word message that he only might have understood. And she'd cemented her place in that category when she'd purposefully not called him on the days long journey back to DS9, only sending him a message that she was okay and then, subsequently ignoring all of his messages and attempts to contact her.
She just hadn't known what to say, not with her emotions in such a jumbled mess and not when most of it couldn't be safely discussed on an open comm channel. She knew he'd understand the latter but she also knew that once she took the lid off of the pressure cooker that was her emotional control, there'd be no stopping the avalanche. All those swirling clouds of anger, grief and ultimately betrayal would just pour out unchecked with no where to go but through the screen.
And yet, when she finally forced herself to find some courage and strength to sit down in front of her screen, all she saw was worry and a little glimpse of desperation as her husband seemed to peer through the screen for any sign that she was anything but alive and whole.
[Are you back or is it still on going?] His words were short and to the point, almost like he was still wearing the uniform. Yet, she saw the way he looked past her in an attempt to gauge where she was, how much she might not be telling him.
"DS9," she offered, her fingers curling tightly around the coffee cup that was suppose to be giving her some courage.
His pale blue eyes watched her carefully, looking for the tiniest hints of what might be going on in her head and in her life. If anyone would find those hints, it was him. He knew her better than anyone, even herself sometimes. There was little she wouldn't give at that moment to just be able to touch him, feel that reassuring hum.
[Bad? Carraya bad?] His eyebrow pulled together in concern as he watched her, taking in the drawn expression and the fidgeting fingers. She knew, if he could, he'd be looking for injuries, any sign that she'd fought and won.
She swallowed before shaking her head ever so slightly. "Yes but no. I am physically fine but there's..." Her eyes dropped as she steeled herself, finally looking up at him through long eyelashes. "This isn't a subspace conversation, Thomas. We can't..."
[Tyra,] Her name came out as a sigh. [Please.]
She took a sip of her coffee, the hot burning distracting her from the burning behind her eyes. "We got backed into a corner and asked to perform a miracle. And we did, though it certainly doesn't feel worth it right now and I doubt my methods will be appreciated. In fact, I know they won't be and there are likely going to be shockwaves as a result."
The silence seemed to stretch as he considered her answer and she considered him. She wondered what it was like for him to see this side of it after years of being the admiral asking for the miracle. He'd even asked miracles of her when she'd served under him in the Fourth Fleet but she prayed he'd never left anyone out to dry like they had, like she was preparing to witness further.
She was surprised when he merely hummed in acknowledgement but his next words proved he was no fool. [I heard an interesting rumor that a long lost ship was being towed to DS9, set to arrive imminently. I'm curious if that's true.]
Her eyebrow arched up and her shoulder followed suit in the tiniest of shrugs. "Interesting. I'll have to keep my eye out for it."
He took that as the answer he needed, his shoulders visibly relaxed and he allowed himself to shift back from his screen ever so slightly. It didn't erase the concern that seemed to flow out of him but he, at least, seemed to have enough information to be satisfied for the moment. It was something.
There were a few moments of silence as they each settled in but it wasn't long before he began to fill her in on what she had been missing at home. It wasn't lost on her that his focus was primarily on Evie and Ethan, a far cry from the workaholic that had a difficult time focusing on anything else unless she forced him to on her return. In fact, she'd go as far to say that fatherhood suited Thomas well.
He was in the middle of recounting Evie's recent adventure on the ranch, her first experience with herding sheep, when her computer insistently dinged not once, not twice but three times as tiny notification bubbles floated along the lower right corner. It was the arrival of a fourth shortly after that caused her fingers to hover over the messages.
Her lips pressed together as she saw that the first two, sent at almost exactly the same time, were from two very independent associates at Security HQ with unnervingly similar requests for her to reach out immediately and without delay. For one of them to reach out, might not have been alarming but two of them simultaneously was a red alert situation. However, it was the third message that stopped her dead in her tracks.
[From Lieutenant Commander Cera Morgan, USS Artemis
To: Captain Tyra Crawford, USS Artemis
They picked up Elias for questioning. He sent a full confession to JAG at launch.]
Her alarm must have shown on her face because she could heard Thomas' question to her state as a mere background buzz, barely registering over the sound of blood pounding in her ears. Her fingers shook as she selected the fourth message, an official message from DS9's base commander informing her that one Lieutenant Commander Benjamin Elias had been arrested. The charges listed in the message didn't even register as she felt a swirling vortex of nausea and rage bubbled up into her gut.
[Tyra? Tyra, what's wrong?]
Her next motions were on autopilot as she knocked her coffee back in one mouthful and she stood up. She leaned down, having to push her long hair out of her face so that she could see Thomas. "I'm sorry. I have to go. I love you and…"
For a second, she considered making a request of him but she quickly thought better of it. This was a situation that was teetering on the edge of spiraling out of control and she needed to be very careful about what she did next. "I'll be home soon."
She closed the channel without giving him a chance to answer, snatching her communicator off the desk before storming out of her quarters with little care for her current state.
>> Promenade 2.0 >>
It was funny how brave people could be such cowards when it came to matters of the heart. Tyra never truly considered herself to be in that category, not until this debacle, not until she couldn't even stomach sending Thomas more than a cryptic one word message that he only might have understood. And she'd cemented her place in that category when she'd purposefully not called him on the days long journey back to DS9, only sending him a message that she was okay and then, subsequently ignoring all of his messages and attempts to contact her.
She just hadn't known what to say, not with her emotions in such a jumbled mess and not when most of it couldn't be safely discussed on an open comm channel. She knew he'd understand the latter but she also knew that once she took the lid off of the pressure cooker that was her emotional control, there'd be no stopping the avalanche. All those swirling clouds of anger, grief and ultimately betrayal would just pour out unchecked with no where to go but through the screen.
And yet, when she finally forced herself to find some courage and strength to sit down in front of her screen, all she saw was worry and a little glimpse of desperation as her husband seemed to peer through the screen for any sign that she was anything but alive and whole.
[Are you back or is it still on going?] His words were short and to the point, almost like he was still wearing the uniform. Yet, she saw the way he looked past her in an attempt to gauge where she was, how much she might not be telling him.
"DS9," she offered, her fingers curling tightly around the coffee cup that was suppose to be giving her some courage.
His pale blue eyes watched her carefully, looking for the tiniest hints of what might be going on in her head and in her life. If anyone would find those hints, it was him. He knew her better than anyone, even herself sometimes. There was little she wouldn't give at that moment to just be able to touch him, feel that reassuring hum.
[Bad? Carraya bad?] His eyebrow pulled together in concern as he watched her, taking in the drawn expression and the fidgeting fingers. She knew, if he could, he'd be looking for injuries, any sign that she'd fought and won.
She swallowed before shaking her head ever so slightly. "Yes but no. I am physically fine but there's..." Her eyes dropped as she steeled herself, finally looking up at him through long eyelashes. "This isn't a subspace conversation, Thomas. We can't..."
[Tyra,] Her name came out as a sigh. [Please.]
She took a sip of her coffee, the hot burning distracting her from the burning behind her eyes. "We got backed into a corner and asked to perform a miracle. And we did, though it certainly doesn't feel worth it right now and I doubt my methods will be appreciated. In fact, I know they won't be and there are likely going to be shockwaves as a result."
The silence seemed to stretch as he considered her answer and she considered him. She wondered what it was like for him to see this side of it after years of being the admiral asking for the miracle. He'd even asked miracles of her when she'd served under him in the Fourth Fleet but she prayed he'd never left anyone out to dry like they had, like she was preparing to witness further.
She was surprised when he merely hummed in acknowledgement but his next words proved he was no fool. [I heard an interesting rumor that a long lost ship was being towed to DS9, set to arrive imminently. I'm curious if that's true.]
Her eyebrow arched up and her shoulder followed suit in the tiniest of shrugs. "Interesting. I'll have to keep my eye out for it."
He took that as the answer he needed, his shoulders visibly relaxed and he allowed himself to shift back from his screen ever so slightly. It didn't erase the concern that seemed to flow out of him but he, at least, seemed to have enough information to be satisfied for the moment. It was something.
There were a few moments of silence as they each settled in but it wasn't long before he began to fill her in on what she had been missing at home. It wasn't lost on her that his focus was primarily on Evie and Ethan, a far cry from the workaholic that had a difficult time focusing on anything else unless she forced him to on her return. In fact, she'd go as far to say that fatherhood suited Thomas well.
He was in the middle of recounting Evie's recent adventure on the ranch, her first experience with herding sheep, when her computer insistently dinged not once, not twice but three times as tiny notification bubbles floated along the lower right corner. It was the arrival of a fourth shortly after that caused her fingers to hover over the messages.
Her lips pressed together as she saw that the first two, sent at almost exactly the same time, were from two very independent associates at Security HQ with unnervingly similar requests for her to reach out immediately and without delay. For one of them to reach out, might not have been alarming but two of them simultaneously was a red alert situation. However, it was the third message that stopped her dead in her tracks.
[From Lieutenant Commander Cera Morgan, USS Artemis
To: Captain Tyra Crawford, USS Artemis
They picked up Elias for questioning. He sent a full confession to JAG at launch.]
Her alarm must have shown on her face because she could heard Thomas' question to her state as a mere background buzz, barely registering over the sound of blood pounding in her ears. Her fingers shook as she selected the fourth message, an official message from DS9's base commander informing her that one Lieutenant Commander Benjamin Elias had been arrested. The charges listed in the message didn't even register as she felt a swirling vortex of nausea and rage bubbled up into her gut.
[Tyra? Tyra, what's wrong?]
Her next motions were on autopilot as she knocked her coffee back in one mouthful and she stood up. She leaned down, having to push her long hair out of her face so that she could see Thomas. "I'm sorry. I have to go. I love you and…"
For a second, she considered making a request of him but she quickly thought better of it. This was a situation that was teetering on the edge of spiraling out of control and she needed to be very careful about what she did next. "I'll be home soon."
She closed the channel without giving him a chance to answer, snatching her communicator off the desk before storming out of her quarters with little care for her current state.
>> Promenade 2.0 >>