LCDR Aine Sherlock - Round One

[Aine Sherlock]

((OOC: Vignette 1 incoming! I won't add much because of the interjection of Lia so everyone can have a chance to catch up.))

((The Writer's Room, Deck 8, USS Octavia E. Butler))

Aine wasn't sure why she'd asked Jack if Michele would be coming. With what she heard about what happened it was likely the two weren't exactly on speaking terms. Especially given the sharp words she'd expressed in the XO's office. But there was a chance they'd made up. Sometimes that kinda thing happens.

Richards: Oh. There's a Michele?

Kessler: There was and (looking to Sherlock) I have not spoken to Michele today.

Sherlock: Either way, she should still be here. If anything, to at least make a good appearance.

Kessler: (looking to Aine) I would agree.

Aine meant it. Unless Avander had started gossiping, no one knew what had occurred. And appearance could mean everything. Michele, though in a way was demoted, it was a second chance.

Richards: Wait, you mean Michele Winters? Captain Michele Winters?

Aine looked at Anton and slowly nodded her head when Jack confirmed it.

Kessler: One in the same.

Sherlock: I'm ::beat:: going to assume there's something else I don't know.

Richards: Hey guys, I think the ceremony is about to start.

Kessler: Well speak of the…….

Just as Lia stepped up to the dais, Michele made her way in. Aine took a seat after a brief eye contact with the Marine Captain. She listened as Lia read a passage from Octavia E. Butler, the real one, not the ship. And made a couple announcements. Just as she finished to make her rounds, Michele walked up and put a hand on Jack's shoulder, heavily.

Winters: (smiling broadly) Watch it Jack….the devil has not entered the room just yet. (looking to Aine and Anton) Commander…Lieutenant.

Sherlock: Captain.

The look on Aine's face was...cautious. She wasn't sure if Michele was trying to put a good foot forward or setting them off guard to spring.

Richards: Response.

Winters: Is this seat taken Commander?

Sherlock: ::shrugging with her mouth:: It is now. ::gesturing to the nearest chair:: Please, join us.

Richards: Response.

Kessler: Will Max or your other Marines be joining us?

The air was thick with tension, or maybe it was just Aine worrying, as Michele looked back and forth between Jack and her.

Winters: I told them they were free to sit wherever they wanted but I would enjoy them here is they so choose.

Kessler: Marines in a bar….it is all synthehol right? (grinning ear to ear)

Aine grinned, really a suppressed smile as she shook her head. She was familiar enough with the bar now to know that that was not the case at all. And she even planned to supplement the selection if she could ever find Tobats.

Winters: What are we drinking Commander?

Sherlock: Whiskey, neat. ::spying Lia approaching:: Heads up.

Richards: Response.

Aine gave the Captain a nod as she approached. By now, Avander surely had apprised her of the situation. And Aine hoped that her sudden appearance might break the tension she felt, but instead it suddenly felt heavier...it was most definitely with her and not everyone else.

Rouiancet: Lieutenant Kessler, it's very good to have you back.

Kessler: Response

Richards / Winters: Responses, if any

Rouiancet: (seriously) I'm very glad to see you here tonight especially. I would have sought you out regardless, but a promotion ceremony seems to me an auspicious time to ask if you would agree to service in tactical aboard the Butler. Perhaps, if you're ready, and Michele agrees, as chief of tactical. (to Michele) I don't want to presume, though, that you're ready to leave the position, Michele.

Aine wasn't sure if Lia was being gentle about it all, or if Avander hadn't yet told her their decision. But Aine's eyes were on Michele. The last thing they needed was for the Marine to unleash yet another tirade, this time on the Captain. Her chest suddenly felt tight as she realized she was holding her breath.

Kessler / Winters: Responses

Sherlock: ::letting out the breath through her nose, trying not to do so loudly:: I'm glad everyone's on-board. oODid I make that sound like a question again? No...Oo

Richards: Responses, if any

Rouiancet: (a nod) Very well. Yes, I'm pleased with that. (another smile) The Butler will be in good hands. Now, then...

Rouiancet: I remember that Commodore V'Airu used to say that "awarding" the Prisoner of War ribbon didn't feel right, that it was more like a (beat) recognition, I suppose, of an especially traumatic element of an officer's service history, one that others should be aware of. That's the spirit in which I present this to you, Aine.

Lia had been handed the ribbon by a particularly noticeable Romulan Yeoman. Aine made a mental not to speak to the Yeoman, in her native language. The ribbon, much like Lia had posited, was not one Aine was proud of. Much like her Purple Heart, it was recognition by Starfleet for facing adversity. But never felt appropriate to her.

Sherlock: Thank you, Captain. I'll wear it proudly. oODon't lie!Oo

Kessler / Richards / Winters: Responses, if any

Aine gave the others a nod of thanks, and one more to Lia as she departed. Once the Captain was clear and heading to the next table, she turned to Michele.

Sherlock: How about that drink?

Winters: response

Kessler/Richards: response

tags/TBC

((OOC: And if someone wants to work in Vignette 8 after a little talking, that'd be awesome, or I can when it comes back around to me.))

LCDR Aine Sherlock

Chief of Security

U.S.S. Octavia E. Butler

R239712AS0