"Shore Leave: Interrupted"

[Guest Fiona Weber]

Fiona was having a wonderful time of things squelching her deep desire to smack lawbreakers and would-be peacekeepers alike, and do something. She was tense for reasons she couldn't quite define, and this debacle was starting to smell more and more... odious... than she usually cared to notice.

 

Half of her was concerned about the fact that, through the actions of the (allegedly) bird-killing shuttleers, they had managed to seriously impede any attempts to make an ally through this mission. The other half was concerned that, by means of their deal-cutting and negotiating and general attempts to get the fools out of their sentences, they would end up leaving an enemy -- or at least unfriendly -- world in their wake once they had finally fled this god-forsaken place.

 

Oh, undoubtedly they'd get the perpetrators back. Undoubtedly, after eons spent in orbit while they made reparations of whatever sort the Aviatrix-worshippers demanded, Republic would frolic on her way, oblivious to any future diplomatic calamities they might have caused (unless the cute little Joy-bot called on her ambassadorial self to intervene, which was always possible, Fiona supposed). Ah well. Aside from the loss of a lovely verande and montane view, it was really of little consequence to Weber what happened here. She was, after all, a doctor, with little chance of blame for the whole fiasco.

 

Graned, the loss of shore leave was, to Fiona, moderately tragic. She hadn't really been off the ship in ages (the Prophets' little joke of a camping expedition certainly didn't count), and the doctor needed something of a change of pace. Not a break, certainly, as Fiona's work wasn't exactly something anyone would want a break from, but a new locale in which to tap out molecular structures on a padd... ah, that was the proverbial Heaven.

 

Instead of relaxation, Fiona found herself more rattled than ever, and dismayed by the current situation rather than coming off a smooth return from a lovely few weeks "away from it all". To make matters worse, there was that business about the disgusting state of her office upon her return, and she still hadn't tracked down any leads about it. It was all quite... aggravating. Off-putting. Besides, anything that put Weber in a mood to toss about verbal barbs with... god... the Jax-Robinson female was certainly concerning.

 

Pouring herself another, strong, steaming cup of raktajino, Fiona sighed. Soon this whole mess would be done with, and they'd be on their way, and Fiona would be able to return to the comfortable world of her medical laboratory and away from the less-comfortable world of "Oh, god, now what?"

 

It was a somewhat reassuring thought.

Edited November 2, 2009 by Fiona Weber