06-23-2024, 12:54 AM
== Angriest Unicorn ==
Tyra had to admit that Calleja's enthusiasm, bordering on giddy if the redhead was honest, was contagious. Despite everything that was looming over Tyra, her lips had pulled into a warm smile as the newly minted Chief of Security answered with more gratitude than Tyra had expected.
“When you asked to see me, I ran through a list of possible outcomes in my head, and this one definitely wasn’t on the list,” Calleja admitted. “Never been happier to be wrong.”
Tyra chuckled. "Well, there was a time where I would have ordered you to scrub the manifolds with a toothbrush for the whole Philly outburst so that probably was a valid concern. Fortunately, there are other people higher on my list at the moment," she added the last part with a little eyebrow raise and a coffee sip.
“I know you’ve got a lot goin’ on,” Calleja added. “But if you need me, or there’s anythin’ I can do, call me. I’ll have your back, and Elias’ as well. Command might deal in black and white, but I’m pretty good at grey and makin’ it look like white. And if they come for us, Security will have its collective shit together.”
Tyra's grin had shifted into an appreciative smile. She knew Calleja was being honest, though she wasn't certain Calleja truly understood what was currently on the line. Nor did she believe that Calleja understood that her rise to COS was directly tied to what Tyra anticipated was on the horizon. Calleja was the type of officer that wouldn't sway in a storm, a tree with deep roots, and that was what Artemis would need in the coming weeks. If Tyra didn't make sure that there was stability in her wake, her fate would be all the more destructive for the ship and crew she loved dearly.
The redhead found herself looking at the coffee in front of her, watching the swirl again. This was usually where she'd offer a warm congratulations, a squeeze of the shoulder and excuse herself to the mountain of paperwork waiting for her in her office. And yet, she wasn't sure there was anything she wanted to do less; her office right now, while a sanctuary from prying eyes, seemed to slowly filled with regrets, things not done and general anger. A few moments of normalcy seemed like such a reprieve, as ridiculous as that felt.
"Well, I am glad that you're happy to be changing jackets and I'm extra glad that I'm not twisting your arm," she offered, her grin returning fractionally.
"Was Chief something you've wanted since you put on the uniform? Or did it creep up on you? I never wanted a jacket, either Chief or even the one I have now, but careers seem to develop minds of their own."
== Tag! ==
Tyra had to admit that Calleja's enthusiasm, bordering on giddy if the redhead was honest, was contagious. Despite everything that was looming over Tyra, her lips had pulled into a warm smile as the newly minted Chief of Security answered with more gratitude than Tyra had expected.
“When you asked to see me, I ran through a list of possible outcomes in my head, and this one definitely wasn’t on the list,” Calleja admitted. “Never been happier to be wrong.”
Tyra chuckled. "Well, there was a time where I would have ordered you to scrub the manifolds with a toothbrush for the whole Philly outburst so that probably was a valid concern. Fortunately, there are other people higher on my list at the moment," she added the last part with a little eyebrow raise and a coffee sip.
“I know you’ve got a lot goin’ on,” Calleja added. “But if you need me, or there’s anythin’ I can do, call me. I’ll have your back, and Elias’ as well. Command might deal in black and white, but I’m pretty good at grey and makin’ it look like white. And if they come for us, Security will have its collective shit together.”
Tyra's grin had shifted into an appreciative smile. She knew Calleja was being honest, though she wasn't certain Calleja truly understood what was currently on the line. Nor did she believe that Calleja understood that her rise to COS was directly tied to what Tyra anticipated was on the horizon. Calleja was the type of officer that wouldn't sway in a storm, a tree with deep roots, and that was what Artemis would need in the coming weeks. If Tyra didn't make sure that there was stability in her wake, her fate would be all the more destructive for the ship and crew she loved dearly.
The redhead found herself looking at the coffee in front of her, watching the swirl again. This was usually where she'd offer a warm congratulations, a squeeze of the shoulder and excuse herself to the mountain of paperwork waiting for her in her office. And yet, she wasn't sure there was anything she wanted to do less; her office right now, while a sanctuary from prying eyes, seemed to slowly filled with regrets, things not done and general anger. A few moments of normalcy seemed like such a reprieve, as ridiculous as that felt.
"Well, I am glad that you're happy to be changing jackets and I'm extra glad that I'm not twisting your arm," she offered, her grin returning fractionally.
"Was Chief something you've wanted since you put on the uniform? Or did it creep up on you? I never wanted a jacket, either Chief or even the one I have now, but careers seem to develop minds of their own."
== Tag! ==