round 13 Lt Cmdr Reinard, "Fall out."

[Sedrin Belasi]

((USS Vigilant, Deck 2: Greir Reinard’s Quarters))

:: Greir paced and prowled around his quarters like an agitated, caged animal. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he replayed the conversation in his mind. Gjord had started on the attack immediately. Greir had known he would and had tried for an embarrassingly short time to remain patient. He hadn’t wanted to let Gjord get to him so quickly. ::

:: He thought perhaps the shock of the news was the thing that had tipped it. He had been worried and reeling from the news. The way it had been used to attack him when all he wanted to do was find out about his brother had instantly vaporised his patience.::

::Short and explosive as it had been Greir knew the setback was going to cost him. Greir noted that Gjord’s temper certainly hadn’t improved with age. As angry as he was at Gjord he was more so at himself. He didn’t need Gjord to point the finger at him and knew much of what he said was true.::

Reinard: oO ::Gjord’s voice:: I’ll keep supporting the family. I’ll keep a roof over your mother’s head. I’ll keep slaving away day in and day out to put food on the table and keep money in the coffers. I’ll tell you what, why don’t you just contribute to the family by sitting in a nice warm room that you don’t have to pay for and putting blame on other people, like you always have. Oo

::He could have made the effort to stay in touch if he’d wanted to, like he was suddenly doing now. Bondi had been a wakeup call that he’d let things slip for too long. Was he doing this for their sake or his? Was this just a way for him to ease his conscious for having dropped them all as quick as he could get settled in the fleet?::

::He was angrier and more frustrated than he could ever remember being. He thought of himself as the lowest of the low. Shouldn’t he have handed in his resignation long ago?

Maybe he should do that now… but wait. Shouldn’t his family have developed a larger support network by now? Did they really have no friends or acquaintances, no one who could help ease the burden during the tough times? Well…. After Bondi he wouldn’t be surprised if they were all dead. Rori was.::

::He missed Rori so much. It still burned that by neglecting his family and responsibilities for so long he’d missed so many opportunities to talk to him and let him know how important he was. He could never express to Rori now what he’d felt for the man. He was going to have to live with a great many regrets.::

::As for Loffe - he was working hard most days, perhaps every day and pulling double shifts so the family could keep a roof over their heads and eat. They were working hard and struggling while he sat in a warm, comfortable room. He enjoyed very fine meals and could eat as much as he wanted, he could have anything. His own family were probably getting by on stock they couldn’t sell and staples.::

::His heart was pounding hard and fast and his breathing was heavy. He looked demented and all this furious pacing and circling was making him a little dizzy. He could feel a headache forming as he fretted and took the comments to heart.::

::A feeling of nausea crept over him as he stared into the trophy cabinet he seemed to prize so much. While Loffe and Gjord were out on rough seas, risking it all to put food on the table he messed about and played games… for what? Silly trophies. What did they really represent and what was he supposed to be achieving? Hollow victories. They were worth nothing. Holodeck safeties meant he was never at risk. He didn’t have a reason to fear for his life if he went overboard at sea. ::

::He glared into the cabinet and slammed his fist against the glass making it crack. He slammed his fist into it again and again, cracking it in several places. When he was done with that he slammed his forehead against it though he failed to do any damage to it.::

::By now he was feeling really ashamed of himself and the trophies had become a symbol of everything he’d done wrong and of how messed up his priorities were. ::

Reinard: Only a fool prizes junk!

::He flung open the doors to the cabinet and started emptying it, stuffing the trophies in the replicator and using it to recycle the items. His most recent prize, the owl was last to go and he hung onto it momentarily not wanting to let it go. It had symbolised a friendship he longed to see grow and a very good time. It had become the squawking, surprise attack bird once more, clawing at his conscience and exposing all his fears. He tossed it in and completed the deed before dropping to the floor and curling up in despair. ::

Lt Cmdr Reinard

First Officer

USS Vigilant