Shore Leave: The Beach

Alex turns and opens one eye to look at Cass. "Deep thoughts."

She lets out a slow breath as she considers her answer. "I don't think those two things are mutually exclusive. But at the core? I think they can, if they truly want to, but I think it's rare, and I can tell you from personal experience, it's damned hard." Pause. "Why do you ask?"

Mentally cursing the impulse that had opened this conversation, Cass watches some of the cadets as they generally act like the children they more or less are. "I guess because... I've spent most of my life rebelling against authority of one kind or another. Mostly my dad, but then when I went to the Academy, against rules that I thought were stupid or overly restrictive. If I hadn't been good academically and an awesome pilot, they probably would have expelled me on a couple of occasions.

"Then I spent the bulk of my career being this cocky officer who followed the rules when they were convenient and didn't cramp her style. I was more or less still doing that when Darcy sat me down and told me that I could either keep being that person and eventually end up being demoted, or I could start 'acting like an adult' and take responsibility for my career. So of course, I did the latter."

She draws her legs up to turn her body in the lounge chair to face Alex. "But I was faking it, you know? I was going through the motions of being an exemplary officer, doing it by rote. When I was made First Officer, that was even more true. And then suddenly, I was in the middle of this crazy emergency and flying by the seat of my pants the whole time. And somehow, we managed to get through it without too much negative fallout, and I'm being toasted and lavishly praised by some of the same brass who used to threaten me with expulsion from the Academy, or who tried to talk Darcy out of promoting me." Sighing, she sits back and stretches her legs out, again watching the cadets. "So what I'm trying to figure out is, which person am I really? The reckless rulebreaker I've been for most of my life, or the distinguished Spacefleet officer I was for a few hours three weeks ago?"

Alex sits up, and turns to face Cass, leaning forward with her forearms across her knees. "Is there a reason you can't be both?" Before Cass can protest, she lifts one hand slightly. "Seriously. Hear me out."

"Look, you and I both know Spacefleet protocol chapter and verse. I'm sure you know every rule that says what you should do in just about every situation. Maybe not as a captain, sure, but you can't disregard the rules if you don't know what they are."

She reaches out one hand to touch Cass's arm. "But you saw first hand just how much good those rules do when your ship's under fire, key members of your crew are hostages or otherwise incapacitated, and you're under serious danger from a life form whose motivations -- even their true form! -- are a mystery. The rulebook goes out the window and you play it by your gut. I've served under a few Spacefleet captains, and the best ones are the ones that know themselves, their strengths and the strengths of their crew, and the weaknesses of both. They know that the rules can't possibly cover everything, and they trust themselves and their training in the most challenging of moments."

Alex gives Cass's arm a gentle squeeze. "Maybe you're being toasted and lavishly praised now because they realize you've seen the necessity for that, and you've come through under fire. When you were just that irritating, cocky kid pilot, well... they're cute and all, but not someone you're going to trust to save your life when all hell is breaking loose."

Cass looks at Alex, then slowly turns her gaze back to the ocean, trying to work out what she thinks of her friend's assessment. Realizing that she needs to spend more time with it, she chooses distraction over responding to it. "They sure are taking their sweet time with those drinks, aren't they?"

Alex grins broadly at the bartender's back as he retreats. "You should negotiate a new deal!" she yells at him. "I know a good negotiator!"

She picks up her drink and looks at it critically. "Not quite the right shade of orange, but... you know what? Nothing's perfect, right? And I suddenly have the urge to get happily drunk." Extending her glass toward Cass, she says, "To breaking the rules, and getting away with it.

Cass grins and clinks glasses with her. "To getting happily drunk with a friend."

"Now that's something to drink to."

Alex takes a long drink from her glass, and grimaces. "Stars, it's still bad!" Wrinkling her nose, she stares at the orangey goo inside her glass. "Still... it's here."

She tips her glass back and drinks the rest as quickly as she can. A shudder passes from head to toe, and Alex bites her lip. "Wow... pretty sure they're using acetone rather than ethanol, but... drink it fast and it does the trick!"

She stands, maybe too quickly under the circumstances, and she has to put a hand out to Cass's shoulder to steady herself. "Come on... knock it back, and we'll go find this Merengi Keeper of the True Recipes!"

"Yes, ma'am." Dutifully, Cass downs the cocktail quickly. Lacking Alex's finely honed palate, she doesn't shudder, but it's definitely not the kind of Tail Twister she was hoping for. She stands, too, and makes a sweeping "after you" gesture. "Lead the way, Lt. Commander. I'll back you up one hundred proof. I mean, percent."

Cass wakes up late to a pretty substantial hangover, but she'd anticipated that - her first shore leave in a long time, after an extremely stressful and traumatic incident, and a reduced tolerance for alcohol these days were an obvious recipe for post-party misery. Rifling through a bag she'd brought for toiletries and accessories, she pulls out a bottle of pills that Moira had recommended to her.

The label proclaims the medicine "Hair of the Dog" and bears a photo of a smiling golden retriever. The instructions say the dosage is one pill as needed, so she shakes one into her palm. It's a little less than a centimeter in diameter and looks like gray and white swirls. It almost looks like compressed fibers, prompting her to re-check the label for the ingredients, just in case it actually is dog hair.

Satisfied that the cure won't be worse than the ailment, Cass swallows the pill and then orders a light lunch from the replicator. Once she's fed and feeling that she can face the sunlight without discomfort, she sets out for the beach.

They'd made a loose plan the day before to play beach volleyball, so she checks the area with the nets and makes sure that there are balls available. No one else from the crew is here yet, giving her some time to take a walk with her own thoughts. She kicks off her sandals and walks toward the wet sand where the waves are gently lapping and starts a leisurely stroll, enjoying the salt air and the breeze from the water.

For a moment, Cass is too surprised to react, but then she matches his grin and throws her arms around his neck. "Nic! It's so good to see you. Stars, it's been a long time." She lets go and steps back to look him over. "Hmm, looks like you're enjoying civilian life. What are you doing here? Don't tell me you're vacationing here out of nostalgia."

Cass' smile tightens and she keeps her eyes straight ahead. "Yes, nothing says adventure like severe facial disfigurement."

"Nothing modern medicine couldn't fix," she says lightly. But no, they're old friends. She owes him more honesty than that. "It was pretty bad," she admits. "But the injury wasn't the worst of it. It was... well, everything else. Losing the away team. A member of my crew violated in the most abhorrent way. Life and death decisions when there are literally no good choices."

She looks at him with a lopsided smile. "You know - business as usual."

Cass shakes her head. "I still can't believe you resigned your commission. I still remember how psyched you were to start your Spacefleet career when we graduated the Academy. Did you really give all that up just for money?" She wrinkles her nose mischievously. "And sexual liaisons in your quarters?"