Lt A,Dewitt- Family Ties
Emma Banin
((Connor & Ayemet’s Quarters — USS Khitomer))
She didn’t know how long she had been walking, how many times she had taken a turbo lift to a deck that she didn’t need to go to just so that she could keep moving. Just so that she wouldn’t have time to stop and think. She was tired, the sort of exhaustion that she felt in her bones, an aching physical reminder of the turmoil that her mind and emotions were in.
She had thought that she was free from the past. Free from the torture she had endured, free from the fear that sat deep within her. Only now she was held captive by the future. A future that stared her in the face, that told her that the future she dreamed of with Connor was just that; a dream and nothing more.
The young man who sat in the conference full of fury and uncertainty, and yet still full of the belief not in whatever the plan that his Admiral had formulated but in the girl he had so obviously given his heart to. He reminded her so much of her husband. Just like Connor he had given his heart to her. Just like Connor so sincere so emotionally open.
She looked up from the floor and found herself starring at the door to the quarters she shared with her husband. For a moment she considered continuing to walk down the corridor in her aimless wandering, but her physical tiredness had finally overcome her mental fatigue.
She hesitated and then opened the door. There he was on the couch, the hairbrush in his hands, a sense of melancholy emanating from him.
Connor: Hey… How are you feeling?
Ayemet: :snapping: How do you think?
She stopped herself immediately regretting her outburst. It wasn’t his fault, at least not yet. That’s what reason and intellect told her, yet she could not hold back the immense sense of disappointment and betrayal she felt.
Connor: ::He let out a shaky breath, gaze dropping to the brush still in his hands:: Yeah. And I keep wondering if I’m supposed to apologize for something I haven’t done… or if I already did and just haven’t gotten there yet.
Ayemet: I don’t know what you want me to say Connor.
She moved across the room taking her top off and throwing it on a nearby chair, a sort of silent admonishment to Connor. She shook her head and picked the top back up folding it neatly and taking it to a dresser next to the bed, placing it on top silently.
Connor: Response.
She didn’t sit next to him, sliding an olive colored tunic on as she sat at the table, holding her head in her hands and sighing.
Ayemet: I’m sorry that wasn’t fair.
Connor: Response.
Ayemet looked up, looked directly into Connor’s eyes, so sincere so searching for hope; just like his son had been in the conference room. She fought back the urge to break down to confess to the pain she was feeling to the hurt and sadness that threatened to overwhelm her.
Ayemet: We have our orders Connor. I will follow my Captain just as I’ve always done.
Connor: Response.
She slammed an open palm down onto the table. He wasn’t going to let her avoid the conversation, to busy herself with work. The briefing had not gone well. She had believed in what she said but had allowed her shock and distress and seeing his son, and the implications of his existence, to color her attitude. Everything he had just said was reasonable, but all she could feel was the loss of hope in the future.
She was angry. Angry at herself. Angry at Connor. Angry at the Prophets for releasing her from one prison and delivering her straight into another. Angry that the future she thought she was going to have was apparently now nothing more than yet another failure on her behalf to understand the galaxy and the Prophets will for her. She felt foolish.
Ayemet: Fine! You want to talk about it, let’s talk about it. Let’s talk about how you have a child with my best friend.
Connor: Response.
TAG/TBC
Lieutenant Ayemet Dewitt
Ship Counselor
USS Khitomer
NCC 62400
A239810JA2Q