Thank you. I pride myself on getting the little things correct (no matter how heartbreaking). Be cautious, though, Syla might grow on you. She's evil like that.
Very nice!! Also, very realistic description of the heart and PTSD issue, as a nurse practitioner and veteran's advocate, I applaud your detail. I already don't like your SW much, but then i'm not supposed to.
Aw, sorry you had to pause. I had to pause a bit while writing it. Writing what I know, as it were.
I had to stop reading for a moment, it was very realistic, and hit very close to home. Wonderfully written, I look forward to more!
When I first read this, I thought I had confused the two, then I realized I hadn't confused the two and you were so happy that I hadn't. LOL.
This is a fantastic direction to take things in. I love it!
Also you defused a situation instead of diffusing it, which basically means that as an English stickler driven to despair by too many years on the Internet I am yours forever.
You're embarrassing me. Teehee.
First thread I have officially subscribed to!
I'm so glad you're all enjoying this so much! It warms the cockles of my heart.
In which Quinn settles in and has an odd conversation...
Can I haz more?
“How are you settling in, Captain?” Ovech’s blue image asked.
“Oddly well, Major,” Quinn said calmly. “I’ve set about speaking with each crew member on an individual basis. The ones I was sure would cause the most issues seem to be the most amicable. They still hate me, and with good reason, but they are…”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Quinn scoffed.
“I’m glad you’re settling in with few issues,” Ovech said sincerely. “If you ever need to leave, there will always be a spot on my detail for you.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, Major. I will contact you next week as scheduled,” Quinn said stiffly.
“Until then. Ovech out.”
Quinn flipped off his personal comm unit and placed it back on his desk. He had settled in rather quickly and met little resistance, much to his chagrin. Broonmark blorped threats, Pierce avoided him outright, Vette helped Pierce ignore the Captain, Jaesa quietly followed Vette (while taking notes on how to ignore stuck-up prissy pants Captains), Twovee announced he would like to be outfitted with a blaster if only to shoot Quinn in the face (but his fear of a voided warranty kept him dodging Pierce’s efforts to outfit him as such), and Syla was too busy fighting off an ever reviving Lord Draagh to bother with Quinn. He was, in a word, alone. And he hated it. He would rather they spit on him, hit him, curse his name, something. But they remained quiet and avoided him at all costs. They had to be planning something.
He set about trying to speak with each member of the crew one on one, which was naturally difficult with them (in Vette’s case literally) jumping over him just to get away. It was torture of the highest variety. A small ship, a handful of people, a giant murdering fur ball (that had yet to murder him), and a seriously angry servant droid, and he was always the only person in a room. He had checked the ship several times for cameras or microphones or any other form of spying device and he found none. How they managed to avoid him, he didn’t know, but he would find out. He just had to corner one of them when they least expected it. Predictable and ungodly nice, Jaesa was the easiest to target.
He cornered her in the medical bay one morning while she was meditating. He could feel the light side of the Force swirl around him and it felt… good. For the first time in weeks, he felt calm, at peace, like all was right with the Galaxy.
“Hello Captain,” Jaesa said softly as she broke her trance.
The sudden jolt from the light leaving ripped a shuddering gasp from him. Jaesa eyed him wearily from her seated position. Quinn straightened his collar and picked an imaginary bit of fluff from his uniform until he gained his composure.
“I wanted to speak with each member of the crew personally about my actions aboard the transponder station and those concerning Darth Baras,” Quinn said with practiced ease.
“I already know what you did, Captain,” Jaesa said calmly. She rose to her feet and dusted at her robes.
He cleared his throat. “Quite. Regardless, I feel the need to explain my actions.”
“I don’t care,” she said coldly.
The sheer ice in her tone gave him pause. He opened his mouth to speak, but she managed to pull together a piercing glare. He made a strange noise in the back of his throat and took a step back. That look was dangerous in the right hands. Jaesa may have been light side, but she was still under the care of the Emperor’s Wrath. He eyed the double-bladed saber hanging loosely from her hip. It would take her less than three seconds to reach and activate that saber if she so desired. He could only hope she didn’t desire to. Jaesa sighed impatiently, unaware of the Captain’s thoughts. She shoved him aside and made her way to the galley, where the rest of the crew was slowly gathering. He released a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.
He could hear them laughing. Hear glasses clinking together. Hear hushed, happy chattered. As soon as he turned the corner from the med bay, they went silent. He continued the lonely trek to his quarters, tapping busily on his datapad. He smiled to himself when he heard the crew groan in displeasure as their datapads beeped to life with mission dossiers. At least he could get them to respond to him still, if only when they thought he wasn’t listening.