Half An Olive Branch

Posted on Sun Jul 5th, 2015 @ 9:10pm by Commander Rylie Cattmor & Lieutenant Commander Dylan Blake

1,976 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: A Civil Act
Location: Blake's Personal Quarters

ON:

Human's had a phrase for the nervous feeling that Cattmor had in her stomach right now... butterflies. She didn't really understand it as she'd seen butterflies - they had something similar on Athera - they were small, light, and when they flew or fluttered, the distortion of the air around their wings was so minuscule, it barely even registered. The way she felt right now, crows were probably a more accurate analogy.

She clutched the small box in her hand as she approached her destination and pressed the button to announce her unplanned, unknown, and possibly unwanted arrival.

Inside Dylan Blake was packing a small bag with a unusual amount of care. He'd just received a message from Sehra on Betazed where she'd been recovering from her injury and memory loss. Sending her away had been heartbreaking, her daily struggle to comprehend events and ongoing frustrations had been just painful to witness. He'd been hopeful she'd recover fully, he'd wished with every ounce of strength he possessed, and then she'd called him out of the blue looking radiant, buoyant and above all healthy.

He'd racked up some shore leave time, picking a location was a no brainer, though it was made that touch awkward when she said her parents wanted to meet him. The usual, garish whatever he could find clothing choices had been scrapped, replaced with some carefully picked items, hence the mini dilemma he was having over the selection of shirts been pulled from the wardrobe. He'd barely acknowledged the door chime as he scrutinized the choices before him not giving a care or attention to whom just arrived in his quarters.

The main area to the quarters was darkened given the latish hour, though Cattmor knew full well that Dylan was in them. She gingerly encroached further into the space, glimpsing Dylan's reflection in the full length mirror in the corner of the bedroom, standing and looking thoughtfully at the garments on the bed. She coughed lightly, though not to clear her throat, merely a reminder that she was there and that he had actually said something that made the doors open. "Mister Blake?"

Of all the people on the crew roster Commander Cattmor was the last person he'd expected to arrive at his door step especially since their last conversation ended in a blaring row. Abandoning his half packed case he crossed toward her, his mood plummeting at her sight. "Commander," he greeted coolly. "What can I do for you?"

There was a moments awkward silence before Rylie spoke again, "I..." she started before starting to slowly walk around the lounge area before going on, "I apologise for the interruption. I just have some business to discuss."

Leaning against the door frame Dylan crossed his arms watching with a sense of trepidation as she paced and spoke of business. "Something that couldn't wait till tomorrow I assume?" he asked half dreading her response in case she'd come to announce his reassignment.

"No." she said simply, "It won't take long, then I'll leave." Cattmor took a breath before going on, "There are many people, not just on this ship, that have been pleased with your work over the last year." Cattmor paused as she took in the sight of a framed picture of Dylan and Sehra, feeling pressure in her temples at the sight, a guilty pang in her gut, not helped by Dylan's lingering thought on the matter. "Not a small feat considering what we've been through over the past few months. The captain - and I - felt that it was high time for you to be rewarded properly for your efforts."

She then handed over the small box to Dylan with a light but genuine smile, "Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander."

His brow twitched as she held out the small box. "You're kidding right?" he asked bluntly. "I've done nothing of merit to deserve a promotion, if this is an apology Rylie you can keep it. Stop messing me about and get out."

Rylie's smile faded to abject confusion, as she looked at the small box in her outstretched hand a brief second before retracting it, lightly biting her lower lip as she did so. "Yes," she responded quickly, her cheeks flushing a little, "Yes, this is a joke. After all has been said and done, I replicated this box with no content and came here to mess with you."

When Dylan didn't say anything, she jumped in further, "Whatever you think of me, whatever differences we've had, or contempt you hold me in, this is not some half-baked attempt at a peace offering. Like it or not, for your actions, grace under pressure, and general competence heading the operations department of this ship, you have been promoted." she said as she tossed the small package to him since he wasn't going to take it from her. "Dammit, I thought you'd be pleased."

Upon reflex he caught the flying object before it struck him fully in the face, uncertain if that had been her original target or not. He inspected it momentarily before putting it aside, his mind whirled with emotions he struggled to comprehend. He shook his head to clear away the fog.

Thoughts of confusion, guilt, and melancholy emanated from Blake about a great many things; Sehra, Halliwell, others; but it came through so fast it was all a jumble. "What is it, Dylan; what's your problem?" she asked pointedly, her brow furrowing.

Finally an emotion arose from the muddled river that had washed in along with Cattmor. Dylan sighed, uncrossed him arms and paced around his living quarters as if tying to collect himself. "With respect sir, there are others that deserve this credit. I've done nothing to warrant a promotion, I'm not perfect and I'm sure as hell not a decent role model to anyone. If I'd done my job properly in the first place the whole episode on Landreah could've been avoided and Captain Halliwell wouldn't have..." His pacing paused before turning back on itself with more vigor, he met her eye. "I'm as much to blame for that whole disaster as anyone else - and you think that's perfectly acceptable, that it deserves recognition?"

He drew a steady breath, scooped up the small box and held it out to her. "I respectfully decline, please pass on my regards to the Captain and thank you both your gratitude but its misplaced."

At least we've moved on from solely blaming me, Rylie thought to herself. After all, she'd had this same conversation through a different vantage point with T'mpest a couple of times now. She looked at the box but returning Dylan's favour earlier, didn't take it--whether he liked it or not, this promotion had already been entered on record and was going through. Taking a small, short breath, she said "You can't." without looking Blake in the eye.

She swallowed while taking in his incredulous expression, and expounded, "The captain has stood by while an away team has been held captive, she consorted with the enemy of a world, and allowed a Starfleet flag officer to stand judgement and be executed. She's also overseen the dispersal of a sentient species in favour of a planetary population, and she's still been promoted." She took another breath before painfully recounting her own, "I have allowed a member of this crew to being hurt and captured, led an away team which was injured and held captive, and been plagued by visions of my past which precluded me from performing my duties of executive officer to the best of my ability, and still I was promoted, against my own better judgement. I didn't ask for this, but it's happened."

"Whatever feelings you have about it, whatever we may think, whether it's been misplaced or not, you own that half pip, and Captain Michaels and I expect you to be wearing it when you come on duty tomorrow morning."

His outstretched arm faltered and fell to his side. "Sir Ma'am," he signed dejectedly. Then with a glance to his superior he shuffled slightly with discomfort; "I apologize for earlier, I didn't know you felt that way. I was an ass and out of line. Honestly I thought you'd come here to tell me I'd been reassigned because of what happened last time we spoke alone."

Rylie let out her breath and felt deflated, and for several seconds, neither of them said a word. Dylan's thoughts and words were nothing but genuine; she could sense he honestly felt sorry, hurt, maybe even a little alone, especially without Sehra. After taking a quick breath, she moistened her lips, "Nothing could be further from the truth. I may be new to this whole X-O job, but even I know that you don't throw away a good thing just because it might be uncomfortable."

She drew a breath before continuing, "I'm sorry about Sehra, I'm sorry if I caused problems in your life aboard this ship, but most of all I'm sorry if I gave you cause to think that we couldn't work any of this out. I don't want you transferred, or reassigned, or even resigned. By way of that box, it should tell you that you are a valued member of this crew, and you are needed here. This whole business has gone on long enough. Like I said, this is recognition, not a peace offering; but with me being the one to give to you, I hope it gives some modicum of impression that I hold no grudge against you." Rylie took in Dylan's expression, his eyes not exactly looking directly at her. "I sincerely hope that you can say the same. For the good of all, not least you and I, we need to put this thing behind us."

"I think that would be best." Blake nodded slowly turning the box in his hand. He didn't really know what to say to her having expected the whole conversation to go an entirely different way.

"Good." she replied quietly, having no choice at the moment but to take him at his word; after all, she knew that actions spoke louder than words. She didn't want to outstay her 'welcome', and certainly didn't want to go back on her word, but since the offer had been extended and agreed to, felt she would be remiss without at least asking, "How is Sehra? Have you had a chance to speak to her since we left the cloud?"

The topic change instantly bought a smile to both his face and eyes. "She's better," he answered immediately. "Being home has really aided her recovery. I've got some leave time, and I hoped I could spend it on Betazed. I know I need to clear with the Captain first however," he added quickly despite already starting to pack his case.

Rylie smiled, "That's great news, and well, since you've already started packing, I don't think that should cause any problems."

"Good," he smiled with relief.

"Hopefully you can catch up with us before our next assignment, whatever that may be," Cattmor said as she made a couple of steps closer to the door, "we could probably use your experience there, and it would be good if Sehra was able to make it back too."

"I hope so too. I'll be in contact when I know more and if she's ready to return."

It was almost an awkward silence for a few seconds before Rylie broke it, "Well, I guess I should probably leave you to your preparations. Enjoy your evening, Dylan; and your leave." Then she triggered the sensors to open the door, nodded lightly, and left.

Any parting words Dylan had no chance to say them since Rylie was gone.

OFF:


CDR Rylie Cattmor
XO

LCDR Dylan Blake
Ops Chief

 

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