Almost But Not Quite Over
Posted on 08 Feb 2024 @ 6:19pm by Commander Calliope Zahn
Mission:
M4 - Falling Out
Location: Captain’s Ready Room, USS Pathfinder (OC Docking Yard)
Timeline: MD20 Early Morning
1761 words - 3.5 OF Standard Post Measure
Today was the day. The day Lance would leave the station. The day he’d board the USS Portland and start his journey back to Sol and, Calliope was pretty sure, never reach out to her again. His ego would never allow it. He’d make up whatever he wanted to tell himself about her, and his mother would affirm the whole thing as being a matter of good-riddens. With any luck, his mother might even convince him to sign off the divorce papers and be done with it, overwriting any delusions he might still have of Calliope running back to him without him going to any effort to make any real meaningful examination of his part in the relationship breakdown.
It was a pivotal day. Lance leaving the station would put physical distance to match the emotional distance he already had. And then it could really be over. He’d find other things to focus on: work he loved, his mother to impress, graduate students to discourage. He wouldn’t be happy exactly– contentment to Lance felt like complacency, or lack of ambition– but maybe he could find whatever was closest to it for him. And Calliope could be happy for no longer weighing him down.
She sighed– something she was doing a lot of still, as she tried to let go of the stress of all of it.
Even while on Pathfinder patrol runs like the one she was just returning from now, this dread over the remainder of the relationship just hovered over her like a cloud. She couldn’t really end it until he was gone. She’d learned the date of his booking out to Sol from Rhian, who had offered it for her peace of mind. After today, Calliope wouldn’t have to worry about bumping into him, or that he would have some bitter new encounter that would come back around to being her problem.
She stretched the tension crick in her neck.
Maybe Ethan was right and she needed to slot an hour in for a spa treatment before she re-launched ship. She hadn’t contradicted his little speech about making herself ‘important’, but it still sort of grated on her. She didn’t want to over fixate on herself. There was just too much to see to, bigger things that actually mattered.
“And…. that thinking? That’s how you got yourself messed up," she muttered to her reflection in the Captain’s desk of the Pathfinder. A hypo a day to try to let everyone focus on business and never need to deal with her. “Kept trying to make things easier for everyone else, dummy,” she told herself. Maybe it would be easier to get herself to the spa if she treated a couple of friends at the same time. Then it wouldn’t feel so selfish.
She looked up a few places on the Promenade listing and put out a couple notes to a few girlfriends, new and old: Rhian, Corvus, Agaia, A’Koja, Hannah, Chief Xeri… to see if anyone would be interested in going along with her, followed by dinner at the Dynasty, on her. There. The ball was rolling.
Calliope rubbed her neck and tried to refocus on her current task. She was working on the complete Engineering breakdown of repairs from Lt jg Tilmer’s reports and updated timetables. They had launched patrols while still repairing secondary grid and other less severe remaining maintenance items from the damage sustained in the Korix system. But there was still the matter of clearing those. Tilmer had passed off his own progress reports and system updates as he was being swapped out tomorrow though. He’d requested some personal time and Calliope was picking up another Engineering Chief on a recommendation from Leblanc. One Lieutenant Danica Vega, whom she had yet to meet, but who was going to report to the ship the following morning.
There was a knock on the door frame to the ready room, and a stout, young bolian lady in gold trimmed uniform stood waiting at the threshold.
“Hey Saaba, come in.” Calliope had left the door propped open so officers would feel invited in at any time. She stood from the desk and came around in front of it, leaning and trying to look relaxed.
“I have the Tactical systems update for you.” Saaba passed her a padd. “I logged them in the computer, but I wanted to give them to you in person.”
Calliope accepted the padd. “I’ll read it, but tell me the gist.”
“We put the shield emitters all through full calibration. They’re all in top shape and fully functional. Torpedo bays are loaded and the ordnance inspected, also inspections are complete on science’s probes in the loading crib—” Saaba looked uncertain, maybe she was doubling up on SPCO Edgerton’s report. “That will be in Science’s report, those details about the probes.”
“I never mind hearing the same thing twice. Department overlap is not just incidental. We work together. In fact, see about tactical sensor diagnostics with the diagnostic readings from Science. They use the same arrays. I want you to add your notes to his diagnostic report and him to review yours.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Phasers? Tractor beam?” Calliope prompted.
“Diagnostics are good, Commander.” Saaba shifted. “Although I’m hoping to get another live test on them both in open space.”
“You’re nervous.”
“No Commander.” Saaba denied reflexively.
“It’s okay. You’re leading a department, and you’re doing great so far. I know we haven’t turned up anything more than some sticker checks and escort details, but even if it is just for a garrison rotation, when we’re out there, we’re relying on you.” Calliope knew from Saaba’s stance shifting and her folding of her hands behind her that the newly minted lieutenant junior grade was trying to project confidence. “You have knowledgeable staff; don’t forget CPO Kearns is an old sea dog long in the tooth. Not to mention you can lean on the Security department. There’s a lot of shared expertise.”
“Yes ma’am,” Saaba agreed, motioning to the padd she had given Calliope. “Kearns… already helped me with the report.”
Calliope smiled, remembering non commissioned Officers like HaiRoa who had taken her underwing as a junior officer.
“Is that all for now?” she asked her Chief Tactical Officer.
“Yes ma’am. I mean, I just… not business, but I’ve been meaning to tell you, I support you.”
“Well,” Calliope made something of a face that said, ‘naturally’, her hands opening up to the air. “As your Commanding Officer on this tub, I certainly am glad to hear it.”
“I mean, personally ma’am. I support your divorcing Commander Quinn.”
“Ah.” Calliope crossed her arms and bit her lip. Saaba had been one to see first hand Lance’s ego take him all the way through insubordination. She knew the gag order on talking about that ugly scene. But Saaba seemed to have continued to trace the personal fall out that played out afterwards. “You heard about that. It’s still being finalized.”
“Yes Ma’am. Everyone’s heard about that. The fights, you moving out. I’m sorry I didn’t make it to your housewarming party.”
“That’s alright, Saaba. I’m having a spa day with a few friends tonight if you want to come.”
They both looked at one another and blinked for an extended awkward moment, knowing neither of them was the type to lie around in a spa.
“Uh, that sounds like it could be… nice. I guess, Commander,” Saaba said. “I guess Commander Quinn is still making things stressful for you.”
“He’s leaving the station today, so the end is in sight,” Calliope smiled reassuringly. No one would have to bother themselves thinking about Lance much longer.
“Leaving? He’s in the station brig!”
Pushing off of the desk she had been leaning on behind her, Calliope stood up straight, her eyes wide. “He’s WHAT?”
“The reports said he tried to steal Station property– A runabout.” Saaba explained. It would have been shocking if she hadn’t witnessed Commander Quinn locking Captain DeHavilland out of control of the Pathfinder during a firefight while in the gravitational pull of a subspace tear. Not even mentioning how one of her closest friends was in a medically induced coma, and the other relieved of duty over his anguish due to Quinn’s actions. Actually, now that she thought of it, this runabout business seemed a very small act by comparison.
Calliope rotated the holo projector on the desk and drew up station security bulletins. Sure enough, on the scroll down was her husband’s handsome, recalcitrant mug.
“For heaven’s sake.” Calliope dragged a hand over her face. Of all the things he could have been taken to the mat over, Calliope suspected the runabout in question would be his pet project.
“He’s appealing the charge.”
“He’s going to miss his flight? Over this?” Calliope griped. But she wasn’t sure what she could do about it without going all the way up to Corvus, and of all the stupid things to have to bring up to her right now… Calliope’s eyes settled on the end of the report. The claim was raised by none other but— “Leblanc,” she read outloud.
“Yeah, I hear the new Engineering Chief is having it out with Commander Quinn over the ownership of Quinn’s special projects.” And of his wife, but Saaba cleared her throat as she kept that to herself. She knew the rumors always had an element of truth, but the one version where Commanders Leblanc and Zahn were giving each other hot oil massages and drinking champagne really didn’t fit what she’d come to know of Commander Zahn. And yet…
Calliope swiped the whole file closed and transferred a copy to her pad.
“Thanks for the report, Lieutenant. It looks like you have everything in order. Hopefully we can wrap up the secondary grid repairs while we’re in port. In the meantime, I’ll send you the details on the spa thing for tonight.”
“Commander,” Saaba said, giving a nod as she was excused and took her leave.
Calliope shut down her office and locked the door, heading for the airlock to the station. “Computer, location of Lieutenant Commander Christophe Leblanc,” she queried along the way.
