08-30-2024, 07:44 PM
"****."
Tyra wasn't sure if everyone had departed the room but she was certain most of them had by the time she let her chair roll back enough to rest her forehead on the edge of the table.
If she had thought the swirl of emotional turmoil had been untameable when she'd been reinstated as commanding officer, the addition of a steady wave of nausea was not helping matters at all. She closed her eyes for a moment and willed the universe to slow for a few moments, just long enough to get her bearings. Or long enough to fake it.
The silence seemed to stretch out long enough that she thought she might be alone before it was broken. "What do you need?"
Givens had rested her hip on the table somewhere to Tyra's right and Tyra couldn't decide if the question was asked out of professional courtesy or some loyalty to Bill, and by default her.
Alcohol. Every last damn drop.
She swallowed, the motion almost painful as it worked around the seemingly permanent lump in her throat. It gave her time to answer but little clarity came with that moment.
On multiple occasions, multiple experts had commented on her uncanny ability to dissociate from her emotions in times of great crisis or trauma. While Tyra was certain that none had intended that insight as a compliment, it was still a trait that had served her well and had kept her alive through some of the worst moments imaginable.
And yet right that moment, she couldn't find it. Neither the wrath that so effectively smothered every other emotion in its wake to carry her through endless war or the numbness that quieted everything else into a low hum so that she could assess an impossible situation and marshal order from the madness made themselves known.
"Time. And a first officer, apparently..."
There was a tiny hum in response and the rustling of clothes as Givens seemed to shift back onto the table. "You've got ten hours on paper but realistically, probably eight. And you need sleep."
Her lips pressed together at the last comment, not because it wasn't true but because it was something Damian would have reminded her of, likely accompanied by a teasing poke at her tendency to put sleep at the bottom of her priority list.
"Cera. I'm sure she is well aware of this..." She stumbled over the right word for the level of mess she was now wading into. "Cluster. Tell her I need a list of FO candidates that are within six hours of here. Hell, tell her to look at recently retired and reserve options too. I can't imagine the list will be long and I'm not above begging."
This wouldn't be a problem if Ben was still here. If you had protected him, a little voice taunted.
"Do you want it to include internal options?"
She was slow to answer as she tried to assess the possibilities and once again, she just couldn't wrap her head around the variables or the options. "Yes."
She looked up when she felt the table move a little as Givens shifted off the table, the younger woman offering her a stiff smile. "I will handle this. Forward me anything else I am capable of handling; I don't think I'm the wisest choice to fill the vacancy but I can at least handle some of the tasks until you find someone who can."
Tyra offered a weak smile of her own and a tiny nod, though the smile faded almost as soon as the doors closed behind Givens.
She needed to make her way to the Ready Room, needed to make her feet work, but she'd savor a few moments of peace all the same.
>> Ready Room.... Eventually >>
Tyra wasn't sure if everyone had departed the room but she was certain most of them had by the time she let her chair roll back enough to rest her forehead on the edge of the table.
If she had thought the swirl of emotional turmoil had been untameable when she'd been reinstated as commanding officer, the addition of a steady wave of nausea was not helping matters at all. She closed her eyes for a moment and willed the universe to slow for a few moments, just long enough to get her bearings. Or long enough to fake it.
The silence seemed to stretch out long enough that she thought she might be alone before it was broken. "What do you need?"
Givens had rested her hip on the table somewhere to Tyra's right and Tyra couldn't decide if the question was asked out of professional courtesy or some loyalty to Bill, and by default her.
Alcohol. Every last damn drop.
She swallowed, the motion almost painful as it worked around the seemingly permanent lump in her throat. It gave her time to answer but little clarity came with that moment.
On multiple occasions, multiple experts had commented on her uncanny ability to dissociate from her emotions in times of great crisis or trauma. While Tyra was certain that none had intended that insight as a compliment, it was still a trait that had served her well and had kept her alive through some of the worst moments imaginable.
And yet right that moment, she couldn't find it. Neither the wrath that so effectively smothered every other emotion in its wake to carry her through endless war or the numbness that quieted everything else into a low hum so that she could assess an impossible situation and marshal order from the madness made themselves known.
"Time. And a first officer, apparently..."
There was a tiny hum in response and the rustling of clothes as Givens seemed to shift back onto the table. "You've got ten hours on paper but realistically, probably eight. And you need sleep."
Her lips pressed together at the last comment, not because it wasn't true but because it was something Damian would have reminded her of, likely accompanied by a teasing poke at her tendency to put sleep at the bottom of her priority list.
"Cera. I'm sure she is well aware of this..." She stumbled over the right word for the level of mess she was now wading into. "Cluster. Tell her I need a list of FO candidates that are within six hours of here. Hell, tell her to look at recently retired and reserve options too. I can't imagine the list will be long and I'm not above begging."
This wouldn't be a problem if Ben was still here. If you had protected him, a little voice taunted.
"Do you want it to include internal options?"
She was slow to answer as she tried to assess the possibilities and once again, she just couldn't wrap her head around the variables or the options. "Yes."
She looked up when she felt the table move a little as Givens shifted off the table, the younger woman offering her a stiff smile. "I will handle this. Forward me anything else I am capable of handling; I don't think I'm the wisest choice to fill the vacancy but I can at least handle some of the tasks until you find someone who can."
Tyra offered a weak smile of her own and a tiny nod, though the smile faded almost as soon as the doors closed behind Givens.
She needed to make her way to the Ready Room, needed to make her feet work, but she'd savor a few moments of peace all the same.
>> Ready Room.... Eventually >>