hallelujahpilot: (spear-strength)
[personal profile] hallelujahpilot
Trudy hates waking up to clusterfucks.

--

She gets the SITREP from McKnight, finds her normal desk in the war room (shared, of course, with several of the other CWOs and whoever else needs a desk), and starts to read.

It would be unprofessional to start swearing at it.

At least, it would be unprofessional to start swearing before she finishes reading the first page.

(she manages to bite her tongue until page three)

--

Disadvantage of being on beta shift: the people she wants to talk to right now are on alpha, and so have cleared off. Well, most of them have.

"Hi, Patel."

Dr Max Patel (a.k.a. the man who has made a career on Pandora of trying to pick up after Augustine) doesn't look like he's looking forward to this.

That's okay.

She doesn't really give a shit.

--

(Part of her anger is pure 'this wouldn't happen on my watch'.

She knows this.

She doesn't appreciate Patel pointing it out.)

--

(It's not the only cause of her anger. She's angry over the injuries, she's angry over the deaths - she's a Marine, it's only natural for her to be worried and angry over things that happen to her brothers-and-sister-in-arms.

She's also angry about the Na'vi deaths.

She's also angry because this all could have been avoided.

She's also angry because she's terrified that it's all just going to turn into a rerun of the Conquistadors and the New World, and part of her is screaming 'not on my watch')

--

The rest of her shift is normal, and yet frustrating. Surveys, maps, but after her tearing into Patel, the scientists jump whenever she so much as looks at them, which is not conductive to organizing sorties.

Fuck this shit, Trudy thinks, but takes a deep breath and keeps on working.

--

By the time her shift is over, she wants nothing more than to just head to her room, lock the door, and destress. Before, she might have gone seek out Frieda, because god knows that orgasms do amazing things for tension levels. But, well, that's not happening anymore.

For a moment, she's tempted to go to Milliways. Find Carl, see if she can walk him backwards into bed. But she doesn't, for a number of reasons - she likes their slow-but-sweet thing, and God knows that negotiating sex with a man from a hundred-and-fifty years in the past is going have its issues, and she just can't be bothered dealing with that right now.

Naturally, her vibrator is broken.

Resisting the urge to throw it across the room, Trudy shuts her eyes, forces herself to take a deep breath, and falls back against her bed. Then, she laughs, because it's either that or break something.

Fuck today.

Seriously, just...fuck today.

But in the meantime, there is nothing wrong with her fingers.
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Trudy Chacon

November 2011

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