06-01-2024, 03:03 PM
== Coffee ==
“Mentally, emotionally… Not so great,” she admitted. “We put everythin’ on the line and came out with nothin’ to show for it. And it’s not like I can point to anythin’ we did and say ‘that’s where it went wrong, that right there is what we could have done different’. ‘Cause I honestly don’t think there was a moment like that. Our primary, secondary and hell, even the tertiary objectives were all long gone before we got there, and then we got hung out to dry and had to limp home in a bucket even the enemy didn’t want."
The redhead wasn't sure Calleja could have summed her feelings up any more completely about how the mission had ended and how faulty the premise of it had been. Tyra had spent decades laying her life on the line for one thing or another and what she could say with full honesty was that she had never felt like that willingness to sacrifice had been as used and abused as it had on this one. They'd walked out with nothing and they might not have even needed to go if someone had done their homework just a little better. She'd lost an officer because of the complacency, laziness and incompetency of people that would never beat the weight of its consequences.
As Calleja continued, Tyra found herself nodding her head, though she stopped herself from speaking by taking a series of sips from her coffee. She suspected if she'd been placed in a similar situation when she'd been a security officer, her frustration would have been much the same but her coping would have been a lot more volatile, a lot more alcohol and a lot of blood.
“I know you probably can’t say much about all the behind the scenes shit, but are you OK?” Calleja asked. “I can’t even imagine how all this feels like from your perspective, with an actual kid to go along with all the older ones on your crew.”
The corner of her lip pulled just barely at the joke but for a few moments, her blue eyes stayed trained on the swirling vortex of her coffee. It was only to give herself a few more moments to consider the question that she reached for her huli, savoring the bite as if it would deposit words into her tongue.
It had always been such a delicate balance being a commanding officer that wanted to forge bonds with her crew but also knew that there were still lines that separated them. And for good reasons. Usually, she found that balance to be relatively easy because she had members of her crew that were more settled into her life, such as Elias, Tucker and even Damian. However, Elias was one of the prime elements of her current misery, Tucker had no context to the current shit show and Damian... there was something going on there.
And being isolated here wasn't helping. She could handle a situation that needed to be kept close to the chest if she was home with Thomas but she hadn't even been able to tell the man what was wrong, not over subspace. Oh, he'd guessed part of it but she knew he'd never make it to the crux of the problem on his own, the part of the problem that was causing her massive headaches.
"I..." She started to give a superficial answer but stopped short as she remembered many years before when Nick had trusted her to see just a little behind the curtain, to understand what the weight of command looked like in the aftermath.
"No, everything is a mess," she finally answered. "And I've been knee deep in plenty of messes but they've been worth it. They've all been necessary and if they ended my career, I wouldn't have batted an eye because someone needed to do it but this...."
"There's, at least, one career ending from this and realistically, probably about three others on the chopping block and for what? I can't even get a straight answer on anything from anyone," she punctuated that with a frustrated shrug and a mouthful of coffee.
She let the liquid settling on her tongue for a moment, categorizing each flavor before swallowing. Her lips pulled into the tiniest of wolf-like grins
"But I've always loved a good fight so I hope they're ready for one," she commented, the sentence punctuated by a hum as she tried the fruity huli. The waiter had actually undersold it, she felt. It was delicious.
"But to answer your question, I'm okay. I've had years to find healthier coping mechanisms and while I'm sure a therapist would still frown at 0200 boxing sessions and two whiskeys before bed, it's certainly better than what I've done in the past. Particularly when I can't get home."
Now, she chuckled, an actual, genuine chuckle. "Though something could be said for a rager that ends in a full bare knuckle brawl, particularly if I can choose the victim. I've got a few in mind that would be most deserving."
== Tag! ==
“Mentally, emotionally… Not so great,” she admitted. “We put everythin’ on the line and came out with nothin’ to show for it. And it’s not like I can point to anythin’ we did and say ‘that’s where it went wrong, that right there is what we could have done different’. ‘Cause I honestly don’t think there was a moment like that. Our primary, secondary and hell, even the tertiary objectives were all long gone before we got there, and then we got hung out to dry and had to limp home in a bucket even the enemy didn’t want."
The redhead wasn't sure Calleja could have summed her feelings up any more completely about how the mission had ended and how faulty the premise of it had been. Tyra had spent decades laying her life on the line for one thing or another and what she could say with full honesty was that she had never felt like that willingness to sacrifice had been as used and abused as it had on this one. They'd walked out with nothing and they might not have even needed to go if someone had done their homework just a little better. She'd lost an officer because of the complacency, laziness and incompetency of people that would never beat the weight of its consequences.
As Calleja continued, Tyra found herself nodding her head, though she stopped herself from speaking by taking a series of sips from her coffee. She suspected if she'd been placed in a similar situation when she'd been a security officer, her frustration would have been much the same but her coping would have been a lot more volatile, a lot more alcohol and a lot of blood.
“I know you probably can’t say much about all the behind the scenes shit, but are you OK?” Calleja asked. “I can’t even imagine how all this feels like from your perspective, with an actual kid to go along with all the older ones on your crew.”
The corner of her lip pulled just barely at the joke but for a few moments, her blue eyes stayed trained on the swirling vortex of her coffee. It was only to give herself a few more moments to consider the question that she reached for her huli, savoring the bite as if it would deposit words into her tongue.
It had always been such a delicate balance being a commanding officer that wanted to forge bonds with her crew but also knew that there were still lines that separated them. And for good reasons. Usually, she found that balance to be relatively easy because she had members of her crew that were more settled into her life, such as Elias, Tucker and even Damian. However, Elias was one of the prime elements of her current misery, Tucker had no context to the current shit show and Damian... there was something going on there.
And being isolated here wasn't helping. She could handle a situation that needed to be kept close to the chest if she was home with Thomas but she hadn't even been able to tell the man what was wrong, not over subspace. Oh, he'd guessed part of it but she knew he'd never make it to the crux of the problem on his own, the part of the problem that was causing her massive headaches.
"I..." She started to give a superficial answer but stopped short as she remembered many years before when Nick had trusted her to see just a little behind the curtain, to understand what the weight of command looked like in the aftermath.
"No, everything is a mess," she finally answered. "And I've been knee deep in plenty of messes but they've been worth it. They've all been necessary and if they ended my career, I wouldn't have batted an eye because someone needed to do it but this...."
"There's, at least, one career ending from this and realistically, probably about three others on the chopping block and for what? I can't even get a straight answer on anything from anyone," she punctuated that with a frustrated shrug and a mouthful of coffee.
She let the liquid settling on her tongue for a moment, categorizing each flavor before swallowing. Her lips pulled into the tiniest of wolf-like grins
"But I've always loved a good fight so I hope they're ready for one," she commented, the sentence punctuated by a hum as she tried the fruity huli. The waiter had actually undersold it, she felt. It was delicious.
"But to answer your question, I'm okay. I've had years to find healthier coping mechanisms and while I'm sure a therapist would still frown at 0200 boxing sessions and two whiskeys before bed, it's certainly better than what I've done in the past. Particularly when I can't get home."
Now, she chuckled, an actual, genuine chuckle. "Though something could be said for a rager that ends in a full bare knuckle brawl, particularly if I can choose the victim. I've got a few in mind that would be most deserving."
== Tag! ==