Ensign T’Fearne - Unleashing Chains of Guilt
teayl.thorn
((Chief of Security & Tactical's Office, Security Complex, Deck 11, U.S.S. Ronin))
Carpenter: And you think this is the way to handle it?
The question came like a small whip crack, loud in more ways than volume in the confines of the Chief's office. The Vulcazoid's ear tips flushed the feint green of guilt. She tried to explain herself.
T’Fearne::: brows knitting:: I…For the first time since I put this pip on, I don’t feel like I’ve earned the right to wear it. I’ve failed in ways I can’t undo. I accept whatever repercussion comes as a result of my actions.
The words hung in the air, cold and final. She braced for the worst—either the loss of her commission or a one-way trip to the brig. But it felt as though invisible chains had already wrapped themselves around her chest, constricting with every passing second.
The Chief let the echoes of her own words hang between them in the room for long enough that their meaning began to fade slightly. Carpenter suddenly chopped through the air as though cutting through the tension and gestured at the vacant chair with inexorable authority.
Carpenter: Take a seat, Elaazni.
She twitched slightly at the casual use of her family name. This was the second time Carpenter had said something that shocked her on a stun setting during this conversation. This was her dead end, she had prepared what she wanted to say up till now, and the predictable pattern in her head was beginning to deviate from reality. The conversation was continuing and not in the direction that she thought it would.
T'Fearne::: slightly dazed:: It’s T’Fearne, I told you when we met, I go by…just T’Fearne.
The Chief was already seated and scrabbling at the draws in her desk. She felt a spike of annoyance from the chief, but it was surprisingly casual, like an older sibling distracted and annoyed with the antics of a younger sister. She had, in fact, felt this exact same pattern of emotion from time to time from all three of her older sisters.
Carpenter: Just sit down, will ya? I mean, I could order you, but...::she clicks her teeth, eyeing the badge and pip on the table in front of her:: right now, it's just us girls, it seems.
T'Fearne: No need. I will comply.
With a sigh, she sat. Still perfectly rigid in the seat, as though her spine was fused straight. It looked like Carpenter was going to drag this out. She hadn't tagged her as one who enjoyed prolonging the suffering of others, but maybe she just hadn't gotten to know her well enough—and now she never would.
The chief continued to rummage around on her side of the desk, eventually pulling out a jar filled with liquid, heavy enough to make a dull THUMP as she placed it on the desk along with the crisp tinkle of two glass tumblers. She poured the liquid, alcohol of some sort, into the tumblers. Downed one quickly and just breathed for a moment, holding the tumbler to her. She leaned back once more in her chair, her eyes flinty like green ice.
Carpenter: You weren't with us for Grus Beta 3, right?
T'Fearne: No, Chief, I wasn’t. I was still at the Academy then.
But she had read some of the general reports. Carpenter's cool tone and the way she had fortified herself with the double shot made her suddenly very curious about what was in the personal report of the crew in the aftermath of that mission.
Carpenter: Yeh, I thought maybe not. I only ask because...well, I've been where you are right now. A few times actually. GB3 is just the latest in a long, long line.
She knew it was a stupid assumption, but she found it difficult to believe Kirsty. It made her flippant in a way she wouldn't normally behave.
T'Fearne::: slightly sceptical eyebrow:: You’ve sat in your CO’s office, trying to take responsibility for failing at your job?
The Earth woman held her gaze steadily as she refilled her own glass. Flippant bounced off this woman like she had a forcefield coating her skin.
Carpenter: Well, for one, I got a man kilt. Happened right in front of me too, quicker than a snakebite, just about as close as you are to me right now. Worse still, I walked that gunsel right up to his target as if I was holdin' the disruptor myself. I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought I was helpin', even when Beck told me to be careful 'bout him but...::she sucks her teeth once more, disappointment in the memory now playing openly across her face:: sometimes...that's just not how things turn out…
She moved backward in the seat slightly at Carpenter's confession. Seeing her in a new light.
T'Fearne: I’m sorry to hear that, Kirsty. Was it a member of the crew?
Carpenter: Response
T'Fearne: That’s… That’s not your fault though, a person made a choice to pull the trigger, they could have chosen not to do that. You aren’t responsible for other’s actions…oh!
A shift in perspective reoriented her way of looking at the situation with a soft resounding click in her mind. She had let herself obsess over her own perceived failure rather than take it in stride, to look outward and not just at herself like an officer or even just as a person should.
Carpenter: Response
She leaned forward like a puppet with its strings cut, resting her elbows on her knees and wrapping her palms over her forehead, pressing hard for a moment as her brain spun with new insight and left her mind feeling bruised. But after a moment, she dragged her face back up to meet Kirsty’s gaze.
oO When has she become Kirsty, and not Carpenter or just Chief? Oo
T'Fearne: I’ve overreacted to this, haven’t I?
Carpenter: Response
She looked at the desk strewn with padds, jars, and tumblers, Kirsty sitting back and taking fortifying sips from a clutched cup, her pip and delta deposited theatrically in the middle like some holodrama. Her ear-tips flamed green with the embarrassment that she adamantly fought to keep from showing on her face.
A bubble of amusement burst against her senses. She wasn’t even sure if it was amusement at herself or if it came from Kirsty. She felt a deranged giggle struggling to well its way up from the depth of her katra.
T'Fearne::: Self exasperated chuckle:: Oh, I’m an idiot!
Carpenter: Response
[Tag, You’re It! / TBC]
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Security Officer
USS Ronin - NCC-34523
R240107T14