Drinks

Posted on Fri Jun 9th, 2017 @ 2:49am by Commander Bertrand Cuprum

Mission: Awakening
Location: Bertrands quarters

Bertrand sat on his couch staring at nothing. He had yelled at the Captain, and then at the Doctor. He knew they were trying to help but... maybe he didn't want to be helped right now.

Or maybe he did and was frightened.

Whatever it was, it didn't help him feel any better about himself.

The door chime rang.

Bertrand sighed heavily. No doubt it was Cor's turn to come and make sure he wasn't drinking.

This time he didn't both to smooth his hair or fix up the room. he walked over and pushed the door release.

"Hi, Cor. I'm all... oh!"

He hadn't expected Kevin. Nor the two bottles he held in his hand.

Inviting himself in, Kevin walked past Bertram and as he did he forced the two bottles of 50 year old single malt Speyside whiskey he had in his right hand into the Batazoids midriff saying "I brought you a starter and main course, I hope you have dessert!"

Getting to the couch, he threw himself down into a space on it. In his left hand he held aloft had a bag which clinked. Reaching inside he produced a further two bottles of the Speyside whiskey and as he opened one and chucked away the cork he said "You don't mind if I begin my starter now do you, I'm kind of hungry...."

Bertrand was honestly thrown. He had braced himself for more people coming and telling him to stop drinking and smarten up. He was not ready for someone not only handing him alcohol (and good stuff) but offering to join in. And of all people the Security officer seemed the most unlikely. He glanced out into the corridor to see if Cor or someone was there setting him up for a joke, but there was nothing but sincerity coming off the human so he had to accept this was a genuine offer.

"No... go ahead. I had a 'snack' earlier." He cam and sat in a chair beside the couch. "But it would be rude for me to leave you to eat alone."

He pulled the lid off the whiskey and took a moment to savour the smell. Little triggers in his brain cheered in appreciation. He took a long pull on the bottle and as the alcohol swam into his system other things stepped aside and new ideas formed in their place.

He looked at the security officer/Diplomat/Intel operative unable to fathom the jumble of emotions that were awash in the man's mind.

"Speyside." He hazarded. "Not replicated. This must be quite a find. Why share it with me?"

"It's from my personal stock" Kevin answered "I brought a few bottles aboard 'just in case'" he added. He took another drink from the bottle and allowed the fiery liquid to course down his throat before answering the XO's question.

"Only a drunk can fully appreciate another drunks situation, that's why" Kevin said, gesturing between them with his hand which held the bottle.

Looking around, as if to make sure he wasn't being overheard, he held his index finger to his lips conspiratorially and whispered "Shhhhhhhhh, don't tell mum, but I had a few 'appetizers' before I got here."

"You see Bertram....you don't mind me calling you Bertram do you, after all, you're off duty, I checked? And I'm.....well, I'm pretty fuc.....sorry, I'm pretty messed up in the old engine room" he said, pointing to his head "So calling you Sir, or Commander doesn't make sense, plus, we're in your quarters."

"Bertrand is fine for now," The XO responded. "But if you call me Bert or Bertie, there will be trouble."

Kevin took another drink and carried on.

"See, I know I have no friends on this boa...ship, actually, that's not true, let me rephrase that, I have no 'Senior Staff' friends on this tub. The majority of you think that because I come from a privileged background I've had it easy, that I have a stick up my arse, I think I'm morally superior, have no understanding of what 'need' is, and you all think I think I'm better than you...." he gesticulated to the wider audience who were there, but only his minds eye.

"Nothing could be further from the truth, because none of you have taken the time to get to know me, know my background, why I'm 'here' and not sitting pretty in some diplomatic office somewhere" he continued "Yes, I can be pretty strong willed and head strong when I get the 'bit' between my teeth, but that's only because I'm passionate about what I do, and of all people, you ought to be able to understand that, after all, you're a former JAG officer and also the former Chief of Security here....here" he added.

He now took an extremely long draught from the bottle and as the liquid hit his stomach he sighed heavily.

"Do you know why I'm so passionate about this job?" he asked Bertram.

"Yes," Bertrand said, drinking deeply himself. "but I don't think that will stop you telling me. Go ahead. In your own words."

"I watched nearly all my friends from the Frannery die, and I'll be damned if it'll happen here, but, instead of friends, it's fellow crew members...." and he held the whiskey bottle up in the air for emphasis "...but 'you' don't make it easy. See, you seem to think you need to keep me on some kind of leash, like a pet..."No Kilbane you can't do that, no Lieutenant, you can't go with them you're staying here...you don't trust me, neither does the Captain. Ok, I understand that trust is something you earn, but, remember, I was 'asked' to be Chief of Security here. Are you and the CO regretting your decision to ask me?"

"Looks like we are playing a game of 'Hard Truths'," Bertrand observed. "All right, I'm game."

"Let me start by saying my issue has nothing to do with your inheritance of entitlement, or any other thing from your past. My issues are with how you act now. When I talk about you acting as entitled, I mean that you don't know how to be subject to authority. As soon as someone over you makes a decision you don't agree with, you go running around saying how you will report them, or work around them, or use your 'secret channels' to dob on them and force them to answer for having an opinion other than yours. Do you need examples?"

"Number two, your damaged past. Get over it. No one else cares. I don't say that to be harsh, but it is true, and I know it form personal experience. You suffered, you lost, you are tormented by that. You know what that means? You are like one hundred thousand others who serve in Starfleet. The effect is so well recognized that you humans have had a name for it since your first world war; Shell Shock, or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder." He took a long pull, "The number of times I have heard those words in my own life...."

"But the thing is, it doesn't make you special. None of it. Everyone is struggling with their own demons. And the point at which any one cares about any of that is the moment they care about you."

"I don't get to say, everyone should love me because of all I have been through. No. You don't like me? That is your business. I am here to do my job, with or without your warm sentiments. However, you get to know me and like me you might feel some pity for what I have been through. That's why I don't try to make friends. Can't stand the taste of pity."

"So you want to have people on this ship like you, respect you, care for you? Then you need to start by respecting them."

"If an authority does something you disagree with, find out why. Chances are they know something you don't, and have a hell of a lot more experience making these decisions than you do. Or maybe they just made a bad call. It can happen to the best of us. At the end of the day your job is to make the decisions of Senior staff happen, not force them to make the decisions you would make in their place."

"Then there are your co-workers. You don't like the Marine? Find out why he made the decision to be a Marine. Why is THAT more important to him than the things you think are important, because until you do there is no way you will be able to make him understand your view."

"You have an issue with a member of the Cosmos crew? Get over it. They are part of our crew, and it is your job to care about and protect them. Worried that they might be a risk? Find out WHY they did those risky behaviours before, so you know not to put them in that situation again."

"You have an issue with the XO, go and have it out with him in private, and take whisky."

He took a long draw on the whisky, enjoying the flavour and burning.

"Okay," he waved the bottle towards the CTO, "Your turn to tell me I am a pompous arse who doesn't understand people, or you, or how you are somehow special and should be treated differently from everyone else on this ship."

Kevin stood up and drank the last of the whiskey from the open bottle he had in his hand "No, that's not necessary, because I feel bathed in the warm glow of your understanding 'Commander'."

He gently threw the unopened bottle of whiskey to Cuprum and said "You have this, I have sheds more. By the way, just on one small point about how you think that 'you' having experience makes you think you're making the right decision all the time rather than hearing what someone else discusses or argues with you about. General George Custer was an extremely experienced cavalry officer and he thought it was a good idea to attack Sitting Bull's tribe at the battle of the Little Bighorn, it didn't work out so well for him and his men. That's you, that's what you're like. You're introverted and willing to do duty and orders first and be damned with the consequences. From now on, you're just 'George'.

"There was nothing wrong with Custer's strategy," Bertrand said, fielding the bottle. "It had won him countless battles previously. This issue was that Sitting bull was a better tactician. He learned that Custer was using single shot rifles. He sent a small wave to use up the initial round of muskets, and then sent the main body while his men were re-loading. If he had been equipped with the Winchesters that were developed only three years earlier, the loss would have been a victory."

"That being said, I have never claimed to be making the right decisions all the time. I don't even want to be the person making the decisions. I am a surly drunk. What mad-man puts me in charge of a ship? Oh, that's right, the same mad-man who put you in as CTO."

"I have no pity for you Sir, you're just a bitter and twisted old man who takes out his frustrations on anyone and anything he can. Oh, you'll fob my remarks off in your usual way and come out with some diatribe or verbal diarrhoea to make you sound and feel better 'about' being bitter, but in truth, 'you' never came out of that hospital or medical facility after Wolf 359. A physical part of you did, but the you, the real you, it's still back there."

Bertrand didn't blink. He looked around at the empty room, "I'm sorry, was this supposed to be news to someone? Were you under the impression that I wasn't aware of the state I am in?"

Kevin continued, "This actually makes me feel a whole lot better about myself now. I might be at loggerheads with myself, but at least I'm still me, 'I' came back from CX-136 and also came through my all to brief stint in medical, but you're just a hollow shell, a resounding gong, a ghost, there's nothing left of 'you', and that's eating you up inside because you see others that have a chance to recover and you have nothing except a wallow pit of twisted bile."

He sighed after he'd spoken, then smiled at the Executive Officer "We must do this again some time, it's kind of like a release valve for the soul. Anyway, bonne journée Sir" and he headed for the exit.

"Glad to help," Bertrand waved the bottle after him. "Everyone has got to have someone to feel superior to. I see it as a public service."

The door sealed behind Kevin. Bertrand sat looking at it for a while.

"Was I ever that young? Was there a time when I was so hot headed and full of passion? There must have been."

He opened the bottle and brought it up. However he stopped at his lips and then lowered it and replaced the cork.

"Here's to you finding another path, Kilbane," he tilted the bottle before taking it and putting it away.