Hot Seat
Hot Seat
Summary: Komnenos is once again called to the carpet in the aftermath of his dustup with Martin. His punishment isn't exactly what he expected, and neither he nor Legacy seems happy with the outcome.
Date: PHD129
Related Logs: Implosion, Explosion
Players:
Legacy..Komnenos..

Thea leads the way through the hallways until she reaches the Naval Offices. Not her usual office. Not the berthings. Not the head. Not the storage room. The Naval Offices. A couple ensigns take a look at her face and quickly decide to be elsewhere. The Captain makes her way to the desk and sits on the edge, facing the Lieutenant in front of her and simply waiting.

Thorn follows her into the offices, swallowing with a certain amount of trepidation as she leads him to one of the desks. He doesn't sit in one of the chairs in front of said desk, instead coming to a position of attention, bloodied face and all. He looks at her questioningly, but stays quietly. She did order him to not speak until spoken to, after all.

Thea studies him for what seems like an uncomfortably long time, simply watching him. "I want an explanation in one hundred words or less," she says finally. Oh, no. She's clearly not happy.

"He attacked me. I defended myself." Thorn replies after a moment. "I knew there was likely t' be some tension after what's been happening recently, but I neither expected it or wanted it t' go that far. He said talk, not fight." His tone is wooden as he speaks, and his blank stare is directed straight ahead, above the seated Raptor captain's head.

The only indication that she's not pleased with his explanation is the slight tic of that muscle in her jaw - one he likely doesn't see, given where he's looking. "So," she says quietly, a hint of disgust in her voice. "Rather than being the bigger man and the better officer, you exascerbated the situation instead of stepping away. Am I right, Komnenos?"

That hint of disgust clearly affects him more than her words do; his indifferent facade cracks, the side of his mouth twitching slightly. "Far be it for me t' call you a liar, sir," he responds quietly. "Though, with all due respect, I feel as though I exercised some restraint." He finally looks down at her, a stricken expression on his face. "Captain, I'm sorry."

There's a tinge of steel in her voice, and her eyes, as she watches him. "Some," she agrees quietly. "But clearly not enough." No, she's not looking away. She's not giving him any quarter on this right at the moment. Thea holds his eyes and lets him see -exactly- what she thinks. While she's clearly not happy with him, while he can tell he's going to get her boot up his ass, it's not an end of the world anger. Above all, she's disappointed in him. That shows through, despite her trying to hide it. Once he's seen what she wanted him to, she pushes off the desk and points to the chair. "Sit down." A nod is given to the chair as the woman goes around behind the desk.

"It all happened so quickly," Thorn adds softly. "I just… reacted." His face falls as he studies her expression, and he falls silent, no more trying to defend himself. Finally, he can't take anymore of her scrutiny, his eyes dropping reflexively to the floor. Her obvious disappointment only turns the proverbial knife in his gut even further. He slumps down in the indicated chair, his hands shaking once again.

Thea's busy behind the desk for a moment then comes to stand in front of him again. Something hits the desk, there's the sound of liquid. Then, after a moment, her fingers gently brush beneath his chin, barely touching him. "Lift," she says softly. It's not the pissed off Captain tone, but more the Momma Cat tone. "Let me clean that, please." Nope, not an order. She leaves it up to him.

There's no resistance from Anton at her touch, his chin raising without protest. By now, the wounds are healing, although a thin trickle of fresh blood still emits from eyebrow and puffy lip, mixing with the blood already drying on his face. The stricken, shamed expression remains on his features as she examines him.

Thea's touch borders on tender as she tends the forehead cut first. The liquid is cool - and it likely stings a little. Rubbing alcohol. She's done this before, clearly. "I can see by the look on your face that something's on your mind," she says in a quiet voice. The eyebrow is cleaned and a butterfly bandage put on to close it up. Then she goes back for another bit of cloth and some more alcohol. Fingers tip his head a little further back so she can reach his lip easily.

Komnenos winces at the sting. Rubbing alcohol applied to still-open wounds? Yeah, it hurts a bit. An eyebrow creeps upward as she speaks. There's another wince, a deeper one, as alcohol soaked cloth is applied to the tender flesh of his lip; his head reflexively jerks away from her touch, but he leans back forward a moment later, allowing her to finish her work. For the moment, though, he's quiet, his shoulders twitching in a minute shrug serving as his only answer.

"I can't put a bandage on the lip," she tells him quietly. "When we're done here, you need to put some ice on it." Then the Captain turns away, leaving Thorn with his own thoughts. She says nothing for the time being, either letting him think or giving him a chance to reply to her earlier observation. The bloody cloths are disposed of properly and the first aid kit put back together.

There's a short nod from Thorn. "Yes sir," he replies, his gravelly voice sounding even raspier than usual. He seems to have calmed somewhat, his hands no longer shaking, though that dull, listless expression remains on his face as he sits back quietly, watching Legacy clean up.

It takes Thea a couple minutes to get the kit put back together and put away. Once that's done, though, she moves to sit on the edge of the desk in front of Thorn, arms crossed over her chest. She's quiet now, simply watching him.

For the moment, Thorn is staring off into space, evidently finding the wall to be utterly fascinating. He notices Thea sit down in front of him in his peripheral vision, and his eyes flick back to her, returning her gaze.

A brow arches delicately as she watches him, waiting. She's a Captain. She's played this game before. In OCS, they teach the higher levels to stare junior officers down using goldfish. Arms cross over her chest as she gets comfortable.

Thorn is used to weathering the stares of senior officers, but all his experience doesn't mean shit when it comes to Thea. Finally, he caves. "I'm…" Anton trails off with another shoulder shrug. "I don't see what else I can say I haven't already."

Thea's quiet for a moment. She's gone past withering. Withering was so twenty minutes ago. "I want to know what you were thinking and why you think I'm so upset with you," the Captain says finally.

"I betrayed your trust in me. I embarrassed you in front of half the wing. I undid any positive progress I've managed t' make recently towards being a better officer. Any of those close?" A bit of steel creeps into his voice at last as he replies. "As for myself… I was just so angry. He didn't even give me a chance t' talk, and he didn't even have th' guts t' let me know it was coming. He just… cold cocked me."

Thea's quiet for a long moment, then nods slowly. "You're pretty much right on target for the first part," she says in a low voice. "Of course, you had to realize SOMETHING was coming since you were making time with her. I don't know how you could have -not- known he'd probably come at you swinging. However, you are supposed to be officer enough, MAN enough, to be able to control your emotions and control your anger. While you did show restraint…" Her lips purse slightly. "Your mouth got you into trouble. Again. I'm beginning to think I need to permanently separate you and Ivory."

"When he said talk, I thought I'd at least get a chance t' say something before he started swinging," Komnenos mutters. "Or that if it came t' that, he'd at least have th' sense t' do it behind closed doors." He looks up at her. "I'm neither stupid nor naive, Captain. Of course I figured something was coming. If I could've, I'd have chosen a storage closet or something so we could handle it privately, without getting anyone else involved. But I didn't get that chance, now did I, sir?" Thorn frowns slightly, his voice taking on a further edge, though his words aren't outwardly disrespectful. There's a confused tilt of the head as she mentions Ivory.

"Your mouth has gotten you into more trouble since you two came back from Scorpia," she eludicates quietly. But then she nods, once. "I understand what you're saying about not getting the chance to talk to him and getting jumped. However, rather than defending yourself and stepping away and being the better officer by keeping your mouth shut, you made the situation worse," she points out. "THAT is what I object to. Does that make sense?"

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir," Thorn replies, his voice once again taking on that wooden quality. He's not insincere, though, as he manages to look her squarely in the eyes as he says it. "I'm… trying, sir, for what it's worth," he adds, thinking briefly back to the closemouthed, surly jig that had come aboard the ship not even half a year ago.

Thea studies him for a time, not letting him see anything but professionalism and concern. "I know," she says quietly. "And you're doing better. Sometimes shit just happens. Yes, he took a cheap shot at you." No, she's not happy about that. "But your mouth got you into trouble. You're better than that. If I'm going to depend on you for working with the ECOs, I need for you to get your shit together and act like an officer. Not a rutting deer in the woods. You two went at it like two frakking bucks fighting over the same doe. No woman is worth your career." It's simple, quiet. "Now, what do you propose I do about this, with you?"

"Is this another one of those 'think like a leader' exercises, Captain?" Thorn asks with a raised brow. "Well, grounding and cleaning the head worked so well the last time," he adds, a flash of bitter sarcasm in his words.

There's another flicker of disappointment in Thea's eyes as she watches him and then she nods, once. "You're right," she says quietly, pushing off the desk and turning her back on him again, walking to the other side of the piece of furniture. "As of right now, Komnenos, you are off the flight line for 24 hours and on curfew. You are to be back in quarters between the hours of 2000 and 0800 unless you are doing something official for the next three days." She settles into the chair behind the desk and takes out a piece of paper, writing something on it. "And you will see the Counselor within the next 72 hours regarding anger management." For a moment, her attention is on the paper. When she looks up, her emotions are back in check and she's trying very hard not to look like a parent who says 'this is hurting me more than it's hurting you.' "If you do not keep that appointment, you will be grounded until you do. Apparently my brand of discipline isn't enough or isn't getting through to you."

For his part, Komnenos bears a striking resemblance to a chastened child. "Yes, Captain," he replies simply, shifting in his seat uneasily at the mention of the counselor. At least she didn't consign him to the tender mercies of the ship's priests, because that would have gone over so well.

"Dismissed," Thea says quietly, looking back to the paper in front of her. "And Thorn? No visitors while you're on curfew." No, she doesn't look at him.

A crestfallen look comes over his features at that, but Thorn simply nods resignedly. "Yes, Captain," he echoes quietly, standing up. His posture is rigid as he turns on his heel and walks back towards the hatch.

As he turns to leave, Thea's shoulders lower ever so slightly and she watches him from beneath her lashes. It's not until he's gone that she brushes a hand over her face, the rigid expression melting away.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License