LT Aine Sherlock and Shevon Sherlock - This Isn't Over, Part 2

[Aine Sherlock]

((Apartment 302, Kowloon Block Apartments, Hong Kong Subdistrict, StarBase 118))

All Shevon could think was, "Of course she lives in that fancy dome, I bet all of them do." Her PADD guided her to the nearest turbolift, for which the wait seemed forever. Down to a place called Trinity City, before catching a waterborne craft of some sort she'd never seen before that dropped her at the deepest point of a series of waterways. She felt like she was being led to nowhere. But after departing the craft, she spied the building the PADD was guiding her to. Compared to some, it wasn't so big and looked a little dirty. Lots of things looked that way deep in this waterway.

Upon entering the dingy building, she took a small lift to the third floor and found the apartment labeled 302. The dim lighting kind of reminded her of the Delight. She approached the door cautiously, but when she got close, it swung up. Her head and shoulders reeled back as if bracing for someone to jump out and grab her, but there was no one there.

S. Sherlock: Hello?

A. Sherlock: Hey, come in. I'm in the kitchen. It's the door on your right.

Shevon slowly inched her way in and the door closed behind her as she began to make her way into the kitchen. She peeked her head in and could see Aine standing near a replicator.

A. Sherlock: Tea, Barry's, hot, splash of milk.

As the order materialized, Aine grabbed the mug of tea and turned to face Shevon.

A. Sherlock: Tea?

S. Sherlock: ::hesitantly:: Coffee.

A. Sherlock: Any preference?

S. Sherlock: I don't care so long as it's hot, black, and bitter.

Aine simply nodded and then placed the order. She began to make her way out of the kitchen, handing Shevon the mug and leading her out to the sparse living room and gestured to one of two recliners in the room. She sat first, sipping her tea, and patiently waited for the obviously hesitant Shevon to take a seat.

A. Sherlock: I spoke to my ::long pause:: our, father.

S. Sherlock: ::taking a seat:: Are you going to apologize?

A. Sherlock: Look, I was shocked. It didn't mean...

Aine could see anger in Shevon's eyes. She was saying the wrong thing and she could see that. She took a moment to think. Right now, she didn't need to be a Starfleet officer, she needed to be Aine.

A. Sherlock: I'm sorry. It was completely inappropriate for me to suggest that.

Shevon gave her a sharp nod then took a long sip of her coffee.

A. Sherlock: As I was saying, I spoke to our father. And it's just that, he is your father. He and your mother were...together. So that means...

S. Sherlock: I get what it means. You don't need to say it.

A part of Aine was relieved to hear that. Things were uncomfortable enough.

S. Sherlock: Is that all then?

A. Sherlock: No. I wanted to offer you a place to live. I have a spare room. I'd also like to see if you'd consider working for Starfleet. I can ask Commodore Taybrim if you can be made a provisional...

S. Sherlock: You arrogant little shit.

Aine's head shook and reeled back. Her eyes widened in surprise. She couldn't understand what prompted this response from Shevon. She was only trying to help. She sat in silence, shock.

S. Sherlock: What makes you think I want or even need anything from you?

A. Sherlock: I'm just trying to help here.

S. Sherlock: Why? I don't know you, and you don't know me. Just because we're suddenly sisters...it means nothing to me.

Aine considered her next words carefully. She realized that the reaction Shevon was having wasn't all that dissimilar to her blow-ups, at Sil, at Luthas and Egil, at Mel, at her father. It wasn't a family trait. It was a trait of trauma. You seek out excuses without asking for help. You seek out blame without consideration.

A. Sherlock: I'm not offering these things because we're sisters. That's just a coincidence. I'm offering because I know what you're going through.

Shevon stood up, the anger in her eyes was growing. Aine was half expecting to get a face of hot coffee, but somehow the half Orion woman held fast to the mug.

S. Sherlock: You don't know anything! YOU were clearly the chosen one here. YOU had your parents. YOU were spoiled...

A. Sherlock: Spoiled?

S. Sherlock: Yeah, look at YOU! You're still a child and don't even realize it but no, little miss perfect is an officer in Starfleet! You probably haven't had an actual hard day in your life!

Aine sipped her tea slowly. She looked up at Shevon. She wanted to yell, to fight back. But she knew that wouldn't help the situation. She also knew Shevon wasn't completely wrong. She did have both her parents. Compared to many in the galaxy, she had it easy, of that there was no doubt. But...

A. Sherlock: And here, you don't know me at all. I'm not perfect. My parents hated that I wanted to join Starfleet, but never really told me why. But I did it anyway. And do you know what it takes to even get into the Academy? Much less graduate? Oh, and let me tell you this, don't get pregnant and then heartbroken in your first year, it doesn't make it easier.

Aine paused, raising her eyebrows. Hoping that Shevon was getting the message. And it seemed to be setting in a little as she sat back down with a slightly shocked look on her face.

A. Sherlock: I lost a ship once too. So when I say that I know what you might be feeling...I...know...what...you...might...be...feeling. Look, I'm not saying we have to be friends. I'm not even saying we have to call each other...sister. Don't let that crap stop you from accepting help.

Shevon's eyes shifted away for a second. She was still angry. But maybe Aine was talking sense here...which she didn't think would be possible. But maybe she didn't give her enough, or even any, credit.

S. Sherlock: ::eyes shifting back to Aine's:: Tell me about your ship.

Aine cupped her hands around her mug, resting it in her lap and leaning forward.

A. Sherlock: It was called the Resolution.

TBC

Shevon Sherlock

Recently Unemployed

and

Lieutenant Aine Sherlock

Tactical Officer

StarBase 118 Ops

R239712AS0