06-17-2024, 03:19 PM
== Day 11 ==
The message had come in at 0600 but she hadn't seen it until 0642. At about 0703, Thomas found her sitting at her desk, seemingly re-reading the message for the hundredth time, but the words were just blurring together. Her face had been entirely void of expression as if someone had just wiped it all away.
She hadn't even registered his presence until he'd placed a hand on her shoulder, both comforting and for balance as he leaned forward to read the message. She knew when he reached the end, when he read that last parting shot by the sigh and the way his hand reflexively squeezed her shoulder. He'd leaned down to press a kiss into her hair, mumbled words of reassurance whispering through the strands, but she couldn't even find the tiniest bit of comfort, not yet at least.
It wasn't until a steaming cup of coffee was set in front of her and he had crouched next to her, grabbing one of her hands in a grip that was much firmer than usual, that she had shaken herself just a little. He'd been so sincere when he'd promised it would be alright that she'd felt the slightest flicker of anything.
Thomas had given her space as he'd begun handling what needed to be handled. She shouldn't have been surprised that he's called Cera and the blonde had appeared as if a genie summoned to grant wishes. She suspected the two would have handled everything if she'd remained borderline catatonic but the resolute energy of her quartermaster, a long with a strategically poured shot into her coffee, had pushed her into action.
This was no way for a captain to act and for at least, the next 8 hours, she was still very much a captain.
Within four hours, most of the work had been done, though Cera and Thomas had done most of the heavy lifting. She'd had to pause to speak to Damian, explaining the circumstances or what she knew of them along with trying to provide some semblance of guidance, before returning to the arduous task of packing up the last few years of her life.
...clear your quarters before departure, she'd recited as she placed another item into a crate. The message seemed to run through her mind on a loop but the orders to report to HQ hadn't been surprising or jarring. No, it was that last order that had done it, though she'd known it was a possibility. However, she apparently had been leaning more heavily into denial than she'd thought.
"Do you want me to get the senior staff together?" Cera asked as she stood on her tip toes to place another item into a crate. It was the same question Damian had asked and she'd only managed a shake of her head then.
"No, I... I can't," she answered, her tone a mix of defeat and resignation.
The blonde had stopped what she was doing to watch and Tyra was certain she was doing more than just watching. However, Cera was always discreet with her observations and made no comment about her findings.
"When you come back..."
The optimism in Cera's voice was enough to make Tyra want to laugh but she knew that was cruel. She envied the half-Betazoid that optimism when all she saw was bleak and dark.
"Maybe," she offered, though it lacked certainty or confidence.
Cera seemed willing to let this go, her head dipping to check her PADD. "Your ready room is packed up. And I think we're almost done here,"the blonde said, dark eyes sweeping the space. "I'll have them start moving the crates. Do you need anything else?"
Tyra shook head head slightly but then managed the tiniest of smiles. "A hug?"
The laugh that escaped Cera at the inside joke was a little ragged but she practically barreled across the space for a fierce hug that belied her tiny stature.
They'd been together for years, long and difficult years. Cera had been there when she was a young, floundering captain and Cera had been a young ensign who thought a hug of all things could solve problems. They'd basically grown up together. Cera had even managed to outlast Jenny, even though Tyra was well aware Cera was not short on job offers, but the blonde had always reiterated that there was nowhere she'd rather be. Tyra could say with confidence that there was no one else she wanted policing her and no one else she'd tolerate mothering her when she absolutely failed to take care of herself.
"You'll call when you make it, right?" Cera asked, eyes a little shiny as she pulled back. "And after... you know."
"You're my first call. Every time. Take care of 'em, especially Damian," she answered, giving Cera's shoulder a final squeeze.
There was more that could have been said and probably should have been said but Tyra wasn't big on words with feelings and Cera had never been inclined to force her.
The sound of duffel bags being set down behind them and then the clanking of Colt's leash as Thomas finished the wrangling of Artemis' former first dog broke the spell.
Tyra offered Cera one more sad smile as the blonde gathered the few wine bottles Tyra had bequeathed her from the table. The blonde stopped to pet Colt, almost losing a bottle in the process, before bidding them a rather watery good bye.
"Ready?" Thomas asked after the door shut, his tone patient and gentle. "We can take the long way, if you want."
"No, I'm not but that's not going to change," Tyra answered, taking Colt from him before hoisting a duffel bag onto her shoulder.
She turned partway to look at the space around them, now void of any sign she'd ever lived there minus the crates that Cera's boys would start moving out as soon as they left.
"Who knew the end of an era would be a whisper," she mumbled, feeling Thomas' hand on her lower back gently guiding her out of the room before it's ghosts made a claim on her.
== ETL ==
The message had come in at 0600 but she hadn't seen it until 0642. At about 0703, Thomas found her sitting at her desk, seemingly re-reading the message for the hundredth time, but the words were just blurring together. Her face had been entirely void of expression as if someone had just wiped it all away.
She hadn't even registered his presence until he'd placed a hand on her shoulder, both comforting and for balance as he leaned forward to read the message. She knew when he reached the end, when he read that last parting shot by the sigh and the way his hand reflexively squeezed her shoulder. He'd leaned down to press a kiss into her hair, mumbled words of reassurance whispering through the strands, but she couldn't even find the tiniest bit of comfort, not yet at least.
It wasn't until a steaming cup of coffee was set in front of her and he had crouched next to her, grabbing one of her hands in a grip that was much firmer than usual, that she had shaken herself just a little. He'd been so sincere when he'd promised it would be alright that she'd felt the slightest flicker of anything.
Thomas had given her space as he'd begun handling what needed to be handled. She shouldn't have been surprised that he's called Cera and the blonde had appeared as if a genie summoned to grant wishes. She suspected the two would have handled everything if she'd remained borderline catatonic but the resolute energy of her quartermaster, a long with a strategically poured shot into her coffee, had pushed her into action.
This was no way for a captain to act and for at least, the next 8 hours, she was still very much a captain.
Within four hours, most of the work had been done, though Cera and Thomas had done most of the heavy lifting. She'd had to pause to speak to Damian, explaining the circumstances or what she knew of them along with trying to provide some semblance of guidance, before returning to the arduous task of packing up the last few years of her life.
...clear your quarters before departure, she'd recited as she placed another item into a crate. The message seemed to run through her mind on a loop but the orders to report to HQ hadn't been surprising or jarring. No, it was that last order that had done it, though she'd known it was a possibility. However, she apparently had been leaning more heavily into denial than she'd thought.
"Do you want me to get the senior staff together?" Cera asked as she stood on her tip toes to place another item into a crate. It was the same question Damian had asked and she'd only managed a shake of her head then.
"No, I... I can't," she answered, her tone a mix of defeat and resignation.
The blonde had stopped what she was doing to watch and Tyra was certain she was doing more than just watching. However, Cera was always discreet with her observations and made no comment about her findings.
"When you come back..."
The optimism in Cera's voice was enough to make Tyra want to laugh but she knew that was cruel. She envied the half-Betazoid that optimism when all she saw was bleak and dark.
"Maybe," she offered, though it lacked certainty or confidence.
Cera seemed willing to let this go, her head dipping to check her PADD. "Your ready room is packed up. And I think we're almost done here,"the blonde said, dark eyes sweeping the space. "I'll have them start moving the crates. Do you need anything else?"
Tyra shook head head slightly but then managed the tiniest of smiles. "A hug?"
The laugh that escaped Cera at the inside joke was a little ragged but she practically barreled across the space for a fierce hug that belied her tiny stature.
They'd been together for years, long and difficult years. Cera had been there when she was a young, floundering captain and Cera had been a young ensign who thought a hug of all things could solve problems. They'd basically grown up together. Cera had even managed to outlast Jenny, even though Tyra was well aware Cera was not short on job offers, but the blonde had always reiterated that there was nowhere she'd rather be. Tyra could say with confidence that there was no one else she wanted policing her and no one else she'd tolerate mothering her when she absolutely failed to take care of herself.
"You'll call when you make it, right?" Cera asked, eyes a little shiny as she pulled back. "And after... you know."
"You're my first call. Every time. Take care of 'em, especially Damian," she answered, giving Cera's shoulder a final squeeze.
There was more that could have been said and probably should have been said but Tyra wasn't big on words with feelings and Cera had never been inclined to force her.
The sound of duffel bags being set down behind them and then the clanking of Colt's leash as Thomas finished the wrangling of Artemis' former first dog broke the spell.
Tyra offered Cera one more sad smile as the blonde gathered the few wine bottles Tyra had bequeathed her from the table. The blonde stopped to pet Colt, almost losing a bottle in the process, before bidding them a rather watery good bye.
"Ready?" Thomas asked after the door shut, his tone patient and gentle. "We can take the long way, if you want."
"No, I'm not but that's not going to change," Tyra answered, taking Colt from him before hoisting a duffel bag onto her shoulder.
She turned partway to look at the space around them, now void of any sign she'd ever lived there minus the crates that Cera's boys would start moving out as soon as they left.
"Who knew the end of an era would be a whisper," she mumbled, feeling Thomas' hand on her lower back gently guiding her out of the room before it's ghosts made a claim on her.
== ETL ==