Troy drank another shot of the Druvarian rum, as he sat quietly at the bar. He barely looked around. He was there for the purpose of getting drunk, and he had a pretty good start . . . As he rapped on the bar for another shot, he lowered his head and closed his eyes.
He was doing his best to support Kassia in her decision to take a position in Starfleet, but after he had learned what had happened to her, he hadn't been able to get it off his mind. She was still having nightmares . . . almost every night . . . They varied in intensity, but they were still bad . . . And he had to be cautious when reaching just to embrace her. Though her flinching away had started to diminish, it was still there. Sometimes he was afraid to touch her . . . afraid he'd set off some flashback in her head . . . She shouldn't have had to go through that . . . he thought.
As the bartender poured another drink, he immediately raised it to his lips and pounded it down. However, it was not making him feel any better . . .
Paul walked into the infirmary, now freed from the Brig. He looked around to find his friend Doctor Cherrin, whom he hadn't seen in a while.
"Ey, Doc! What ya bin up to while I've been gone?"
Alistair jumped round and found Paul standing behind him.
"Jeez Paul! You frightened the life out of me!" he said laying down a few test tubes. "Not a great deal. You?"
"Managed to piss off Dicky, and get ma ass buzted... zpent four days in zhe brig. But now I'm out, we got zome celebrating to do mon amis!"
"Dicky?" asked Alistair, a bit confused
"Oui, zhe Captain. Ya know... Dick iz short for Richard, az Bob iz for Robert and all"
"Ohh right, I see. What will we be celebrating exactly?"
"Me getting out of zhe brig!"
"Paul, I don't feel like celebrating tonight. They brought in a new doctor and I'm not chief physician anymore. And from what I've heard, you've as good as been replaced too. To be honest, I can't see your need to get drunk to celebrate everything."
"Fine, zuit yourzelf, I'll zelebrate on ma own." Paul said as he left the infirmary.
Paul headed for the Easy Inn to embark on one of his great drinking binges.
By the time Troy finished his seventh shot, he was feeling better . . . Not happy, but better . . . He took a deep breath and wondered if he should return to his quarters. He wasn't sure if Kassia would be there, or if she would be gone - completing more of her training . . . Maybe it would be better if she were gone, he thought. If she saw him in his present condition, she would start asking him questions. It had been a long time since he'd been drinking . . . especially by himself. Slowly, standing up from his stool, he stretched . . . and gazed around the room. Steadying himself, he started toward the entrance of the Easy Inn.
As Troy walked toward the exit, Paul spun round on his stool and noticed him leaving. He'd been there a while too and had had a few drinks. Had he been a bit more sober he may have realized that now would not be a good time to speak to Troy.
"Ey, Troy, Ow's it going old friend" he said as he stumbled over and put his arm around Troy's shoulder.
Rage surged up in Troy. A feeling he hasn't experienced in a long time, and exaggerated by the alcohol in his system. But knowing that Paul had been the one responsible for what Kassia was going through made him bristle. It was hard not to react, but he though of Kassia and stopped himself, with what little control he had left.
"Not well," he replied, trying to leave.
"Come and ave a few drinks mon amis. I don't sink we've been drinking togever before," said Paul pulling Troy back into the bar.
"No, I don't think that would be a good idea," Troy replied, almost through gritted teeth. "I've already had a lot to drink . . ." He was sure his voice betrayed him . . .
"Ey, whatz on your mind mon amis. You zeem a bit angry. Woman turned you down ah?"
"No . . . I haven't propositioned any . . . But I do have a certain woman on my mind," he replied back. This time the sharp edge definite in his voice. His dark eyes flashing his anger. "Kassia . . . "
Paul processed what Troy just said for a moment, but the alcohol had too much of a grip on him now. "You got zhe hotz for your zister? Troy, Troy, Troy...."
Finally he lost it and grabbed Paul by the front of his shirt and brought him to within centimeters of his face, glaring at him. This hit a chord a little too deep for him, as he remembered his father going after Kassia . . . "NO, Paul . . . I do NOT have the hots for my sister! And if you ever insinuate that again, I'll wipe the bulkheads with you!"
"Ey, ey, ey... watch zhe shirt mon amis. Calm down, will ya? I iz zorry for zhat remark. Now ow about you come ave zhat drink ah?"
Paul removed Troy's hands from his shirt.
"No . . . I don't think so . . . " Troy replied, still glaring. "I don't want to do something I might regret later . . ."
"Regret? What could you do zhat you could regret ah?"
"Look . . . Maybe Kassia has forgiven you for what happened, but I haven't . . . Not yet . . . You might have saved my life, but you almost took my sister's . . ." Troy, took a deep breath trying to steady himself. It would be so easy just to react right now, he thought . . . Just claim the alcohol took over . . . But Kassia would know better . . .
"Ahh, zo you're pissed cauze I got our assez kicked by zhe Son'a? Well look, mon amis. No one could ave known zhey were zhere. Not even Kassia picked up on zhem being zhere. We were taken by surprise and even if the almighty hero Tarik were zhere! He would ave got taken by surprize and ad iz ass whooped too! So don't go giving me any of zhis forgiveness crap! It weren't ma fault ok!"
Troy smirked sarcastically. "Not your fault? Your mission was unauthorized!" he replied. "You left before the briefing . . . You not following procedures is what caused this! You have no idea what she's going through! You're not the one that hears her crying at night from the nightmares she has. You don't see her flinch away from a hand that gets too close to her face! You're not there to see how this has changed her! Starfleet took my sister in what was suppose to be an advisory capacity, turned her into an Officer with no experience and then placed her in a situation she wasn't equipped to deal with! She has come back to me not the same woman she left as!" His voice was now raised as people were starting to watch him. Lowering his voice, he looked Paul dead in the eyes. "You are responsible, Paul . . . You're just not the only one who is . . ."
For the first time since Kassia's return, he voiced his anger, not just at Paul, but for Starfleet taking his sister . . . allowing something like this to happen to her to begin with . . . He blamed Wallace for wanting her to take the position in Starfleet and putting her in danger . . . He took another deep breath in and rested his hands on the bar, turning away from Paul.
"Ey, I sink you are focussing a little bit too much on your zizter ere. She was a bit beaten up. I waz almozt killed for christ sake, man! I waz also almost killed for saving your ass from zhe Son'a, almost killed saving Tarik's ass from zhe Son'a. And many ozher timez, ended up lying on a biobed defending zhis place.. your ome! Ave you ever eard of zhe Proktolan campaign ahh? If it weren't for me, we would still be at war with zhem! I ave saved your ass, your zister's and zhe entire Federation, more times zhan you can count, mon amis. I sink I deserve a bit of credit for zhat, ah? Zixty three times, I ave woken up on a biobed, after nearly being killed. No one gives a damn about me! No one's there to welcome me back when I wake up. No one is zhere to elp me recover. Now, your zister gets a bit of a bruising on an away mission, and ohh no.. everysing must stop for er... no one can sink about anysing else until she is better!" Paul was now attracting attention from the crowd. A few men stood up ready to brake up a fight that was bound to ensue. "Sink about zhis Troy. Every day, your zister is gonna be out zhere risking er life. Live with it!"
Without thought, Troy hauled off and belted Paul in the face. He fell back against the bar. Paul rubbed his jaw as he recovered, just about ready to react, when suddenly someone pushed themselves between the men.
"That's it! Stop it! NOW!" It was Kassia. Tarik wasn't far behind her.
Paul steadied himself and looked around a bit dazed, wondering what was going on. As his vision cleared, he found Tarik standing before him. "Ey, Tarik, you'll ave a drink with me ah?" With that, Paul fell to the deck unconscious.
"So much for celebrating his release . . ." Kassia sighed as she watched Tarik lift Paul up. "And as for you, Troy . . . Go home . . . Sober up . . . Then we're going to talk . . ."
Troy had never seen his sister have such a hard look in her eyes. She was a different person . . . Was she a stronger one, he wondered? With a slight nod, he gazed at her spotted face. "I think you're right . . . I've already had way too much to drink . . ."
"Most definitely," she agreed. Suddenly, her green eyes soften. "Troy, no one said to me that being a Starfleet Officer was going to be easy . . . What happened happened . . . It can't be changed. It's now part of who I am . . . Just go home, and I promise I'll answer all your questions later . . . "
Gently, he reached out to caress her face. This time, she didn't flinch. "All right," he replied with a nod. "See you back at home . . ." He then met Tarik's eyes for a moment, before he turned and left the drinking establishment.
With bewilderment, she sighed and shook her head. What was she going to do about him, she asked herself. Looking at Tarik, as he held Paul, he saw the sadness in her eyes.
"I guess we'd better take him to his quarters . . ." she said.