A Personal Note
Posted on 17 Aug 2025 @ 5:23pm by Commander Calliope Zahn
Mission:
M4 - Falling Out
Location: OC, Zahn's Quarters
Timeline: After "Shadow Hunters: A Proposal"
1239 words - 2.5 OF Standard Post Measure
Keeping a journal hadn’t been much of Calliope’s thing, but as work meant keeping logs and filing reports so much of the time, she decided that maybe she could approach her feelings in something of the same way.
“It’s wearing me thin,” she said out loud after hitting the record icon on her desktop. She was sitting in her slacks and undershirt, her hands busy working on her overgrown hair. She knew she’d let it get out of hand. There would be an appointment with the barber again soon. “Wearing me thin in my head, working out what I want to share with the therapist, waiting for my slot to come around. Him nodding along and me feeling like some kind of subject or case study. I think I’m going to get off the schedule. I mean, I like Walker. And I definitely needed it for a while, a kind of touchback for sanity, it’s been a huge support. But now? Now I just feel like it’s his job to listen to me. A courtesy. Not that he doesn’t care or whatever. Just...”
She blew air out in a huff and continued to work through her hair with the comb bit by bit, making it fluff out more and more with the tiny strokes building one on the other.
“I don’t know. I don’t want it to feel like it’s someone’s job to listen to me. I miss just having friends. It’s been a while since I could just talk to someone. Maybe it came with the whole ranking up thing somewhere along the line. Or leaving everyone I knew on the Paracelsus. So many of my friends have families now, or have moved on. Or I’ve moved on. Or maybe I just… want more from a friendship than I used to.”
There was a long pause in the record. “I mean, I still have friends, okay? I know people care. It’s just… There’s this distance. From my side or theirs. Or somewhere. This polite distance. I know Lance was never actually listening but at least there was someone on the end of the comm line. At least I could pretend or be in denial, or tell myself it was just cute, just the way we worked. Or didn't work, but whatever. Erg. Maybe I just need to order a hologram pal or something.” The idea just made her feel desperate, even if it was fairly common for people to get holo assistants, friends, or even lovers. “Or maybe the trick here is for me to just stop being so needy.”
She drew the hair down in front of her face, ducking her head to work on the next section behind it. “Honestly, I think I’m just mad I can’t call my mom. I was waiting for her to be transported here and then I come to find out I’m likely never going to be able to just ring her up again? Not without some kind Marshals’ babysitter club routing and overseeing the comm? I can’t believe Lofthammer had her put into Protection, without even discussing it with me!” She worked more fervently at the patch of hair, fueled by her hurt. “We will be having a discussion, that’s for sure.”
She let that hang in the air a bit, deciding that she might have to ask the computer to clip out her lengthy pauses from her personnel logs. It was nice not feeling like you were wasting the therapist’s time when you just ran out of anything you wanted to say for a bit. She got up and padded around the room while she continued the combing effort.
“Got word about the divorce settlement. The process is going to take even longer, since I am challenging the prenup. It’s this whole thing. But I’m just letting the lawyers in Jolly Old England hash it out. Give them all something to do besides watching the ducks from their gold plated park benches. I can just imagine the nasty names being thrown around about me, since I’m not just rolling over and crawling away. Not sure what I’m going to do with half of his assets, or half of whatever the legalese sharks can get at anyway, but Dea is probably right. Letting the Quinns get away with how they treated me isn’t right either.”
With an audible snap, she set the comb down on the desk and started working some lotion into her hands to condition the locks with next. “A part of me just wanted it to be over, though. Every time a new piece of paperwork comes through for me to look over, I just feel like the wound gets a fresh tear. What if… I don’t know. What if it just makes me callous? Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad either.” There was a smirk that affected her voice. “A little bit callous anyway.”
“I probably need more callousness in my life, especially for the next thing. I’ve got an entirely new work project ahead of me. Maybe that’s for a different log entry, though. I’ll just say, this past year has been one massive wrecking ball of a transitional life phase. I’m ready to move past it and start more or less fresh. I mean, still here from the Station, but not just circling around, detached from everything and everyone, not even ‘good enough’ to be Corvus’ understudy. I swear, I was starting to feel like command wanted me to introspect so hard that I would give up the Fleet. Maybe it was a test though. Probably. Or that’s giving OPM too much credit. More likely, I was probably just written off. Admiral Sepandiyar seems to have left the door open for me though. Between the Pathfinder assignments he put me on and now his entertaining my new Task Force— It needs a name. Or a number. Or something. I’ll work on that— Mom was probably right about him seeing his own fair share of crazy and stupid in service over the years. He’s tight lipped and got that chilly, serious through-and-through thing going on. Callous, probably. Built up experience. See? It’s just the way this works.” She chuckled and sighed, pulling her hair back into a series of tight clips that formed the hairline up neatly. “I’ve been on assignment under Admirals before, but this is going to be something more sustained. Once I get the proof of concept off the ground.”
Turning her face side to side, Calliope looked herself over in the mirror, happier with the half-taming she’d given her hair. It was less than formal, but still somewhat defiant the further out from the roots it got. “Okay. Well. I’ve got to check in with some Engineers on a couple of support tasks. Thanks computer. You’ve been a good listener.”
The computer gave a positive tone, acknowledging her thanks. Calliope shook her head. Maybe it was better that it wasn’t going to pretend to keep up half of the conversation. It might not have been a real person, but at least it wasn’t faking it. “End personal log.”
