Lt. Cmdr Robin Hopper: Some Apology
Robin Hopper
((Elysium – Deck 6, USS Artemis-A))
Silveira grinned and took a long sip from his coffee before slowly putting it down and leaning back again. Robin remained unmoved, slowly spinning her glass back and forth in her fingers on the table surface.
Silveira: Isn’t risk part of our business? It doesn’t do you any good if you dwell too much into that near death experience. ::He opened his arms widely:: But I am a simple Tactical Chief not a Counselor. Just offering friendly advice and an apology for literally handling you like I did in the jeffries.
Robin scoffed – and a tightness in her chest reminded her to take calm, measured breaths.
Hopper: Oh. Is that why you stopped by? Frankly, Mr. Silveira, your clumsy maneuvering was and is the least of my problems… But, if it will make you feel better, by all means. You’re forgiven.
Vitor nodded. Considering what the Commander had been through, the least she likely needed was him annoying her. Or maybe that was just the right distraction.
And if there was something Vitor did well, it was annoying people
Silveira: Thank you. I would rather it didn’t happen. At least not in that situation.
She lifted her glass and took another sip, emptying it, then set it down between them.
Hopper: Well, just don’t make a habit of it. Next time, I’ll be taking revenge… ::Sliding her glass over to him:: Tell you what – if you want to make it up to me, go get me another drink. A Moscow Mule… with one shot of the ‘real deal’. Getting up and walking over to the bar hurts.
He grinned and took her glass.
Silveira: But of course, consider it done.
He finished his coffee and stood up taking her glass.
She left him to attend to the drink, turning her attention back to the PADD in front of her. The names of the survivors were still there, haunting her. After staring at them for a good long while, she finally closed the list. A message from her would do no good… only serve as a reminder of all the other roads not taken – the myriad ways things might have gone otherwise. She wasn’t about to rub that in all their faces just so she could get a little weight off her own shoulders.
Looking up, she noted Silveira again, still grinning. Perhaps she was being too hard on him. After all, it wasn’t his fault all this had happened. If either of them at that table were to blame, she supposed it was her. Her face softened, ever-so-slightly.
Hopper: How are you coping, yourself?
He shrugged while he formulated his answer.
Silveira: Cynically well. I realised I hadn’t lost that many members of my department as expected. ::He tipped his head now with an honest smile.:: Honestly… I've been around for a few years and it’s been the worst thing I have faced. We slowly get by. ::He again shrugged and leaned back.:: As that old Portuguese proverb goes: “We bury the dead and take care of the living.”
Robin nodded slowly, her gaze distant, but her mind on his words. After a moment’s pause, she spoke.
Hopper: Centaurans have a similar phrase from their own dark times. When I was a child, during the Dominion War, my mother would recite it sometimes, before dinner… “The wind carries the souls of the lost and the breath of the living.” ::A slight shrug:: I guess there’s a sort of grim pragmatism that times like these bring out of all.. ::she struggled to say ‘survivors’:: ..of us.
He took a sip of his drink, which prompted Robin to pull her own closer.
Silveira: I think it will take some time to heal and recover, but eventually we will get there. And by that I mean the whole fleet, its structure, organisation… Not just the people.
Hopper: That’s what they’re preaching in all the group counseling sessions anyways; Resilience.
She lifted her mug to take a drink and Silveira raised a hand, pausing her.
Silveira: By the way… I might have to offer another apology soon… ::He grinned:: But please, take a sip. I suggested to the bartender a slight twist to your Mule.
Robin’s eyes shifted, uncertainly, towards the bar before sliding back to Silveira, then down to her drink.
Hopper: …Okay…?
She took a wary sip, then frowned as it dawned on her that he had simply ordered it sans vodka. In other words, he’d gotten her a limey ginger fizz. The least important two thirds of what she’d asked for. With a sigh, she set it down on the table.
Hopper: Well, that’s disappointing.
Silveira: Response
Hopper: ::Eyes closed, shaking her head, a dismissive wave:: Alright, I think I’d like to be alone now. Thanks for the talk.
Silveira: Response
Robin raised a hand to stop him.
Hopper: I’m not in the mood. You’re dismissed, Lieutenant. Leave your apology at the bar with the vodka…
Silveira: Response?
Watching him go, Robin tried to fight the inner feelings of frustration she was feeling. It was bad enough she was feeling like a failure in so many other capacities, the last thing she’d needed was for her one indulgent request to be ignored. Was she overreacting? Maybe. But the reality was that she had very little capacity for forgiveness at the moment – she certainly wasn’t giving herself any.
END
