Summary: Eve meets Fotilas in his quarters for a heavy drink and heavier conversation.
Date: 33 ACH
Related Logs: Any related to Astyoche's 'situation'

Executive Officers Quarters Genesis - Deck 12
33 ACH 6285 Souls

The XO's quarters are nice, although not as large as the CO's quarters. A desk, small seating area, head and sleeping quarters are here along with anything else the XO may need for their living conditions.

< Condition Three —- Duty Area >

Contents: Eve Fotilas Wireless 1302
Exits: [O] Corridor

The XO is sitting behind his desk when the hatch opens, as per the usual. The stack of papers is a little lower than normal but he looks older. More stressed. His forehead is resting in a cupped palm as he leans forward over his desk, scribbling at some form with a pen. Though he looks up briefly to see who it is.

Eve smiles just a hint as she steps into the room, "I was to see you, Colonel, prior to doing an evaluation of a Lieutenant Astyoche Kyrios, sir?" The lines of her duty uniform are crisp, as is her stance when she stops shy of his desk.

The hand with the pen is waved. "At ease, Lieutenant." He writes a few more lines before looking up to her. "How are you, Evelyn?" He couldn't have missed the notice about what happened with Farkas. But rather than hatred or jealousy, there's a touch of concern there.

Eve's shoulders settle a bit, but its not as if she presumes to head for a seat. "Hanging in there, sir. As are we all. Some of us by the skin of our teeth, but overall the fleet is strong." She deflects the personal question and turns it into a generalization.

Fotilas rubs at his eyes and leans back in the chair. "Speak freely, take a seat, flop on the bed if you want. Still have that rum if you want it. If I wanted you to report to me about something, I would have called over the intercom for just that. Though I do appreciate your presentation." That smile might be tired, but its genuine. "I wanted to talk to you about the interview with Astyoche Kyrios that Lieutenant Shem has requested you do.. I don't intend to deflect anything, though."

Eve gives a little laugh, wiping at the underside of her nose with the back of her hand as if she's just finished having a good cry and needed to wipe away some emotion. "A drink…would be lovely." Her fingers flick open the collar of her uniform, but at least she doesn't belly flop on his bed. Yet. Its actually been a while since she's left little Eve sized impressions on the end of his mattress. "Times are hard, I'll admit." She settles into a chair in front of his desk.

"So I have gathered. But I didn't want you in here so I could prod you about it or get my licks in. I figure you've taken enough beatings and I don't need to say anything further on it." The man rises from his chair and moves to the locker and grabs that bottle off the top shelf. It looks like it hasn't been touched. "But I'm glad you are still with us." He might not have been impressed to read what he did, but she's still the person he promised to give aid and comfort to when things sucked. A pair of glasses are poured and he extends one to her. "This woman who is under charges.. Shem has his requests. I have mine. I want you to evaluate whether or not she's sorry about what happened at all. And further, I want you to evaluate whether or not she could be salvagable as an officer." He sits heavily back into the chair and takes a sip of the liquid.

Eve takes her glass, settling the bottom of it onto her thigh for a moment as she listens to the XO speak. She couldn't be more grateful for not settling into another ass chewing, but it looks as if she'd accept it. Seems she's come to terms with her own mistake, and the fallout that comes from it. "Remorse and mental compentancy. What is it that Lieutenant Shem wishes me to evaluate then?" That question asked, she lifts the glass to her lips, sipping from it gingerly. Even then the strong taste of straight rum has the lines around her eyes crinkling.

Fotilas has better things to do than punish someone else's Lieutenant. Especially when its already been done more than once or twice. But he doesn't look like he's up for it anyway. He looks like he could sleep for a week. "I'm not entirely sure what it is that Shem wants you to do. He's an investigating party and has his own line of questioning." The glass is set on his desk, though his fingers steeple around the brim. "Its safe to say that I personally believe that she could.. one day.. be a viable officer once more. But I am involved in aspects of this case in other ways and I don't think I can make an impartial judgement that may help her case or hurt it." He eyes to glass as he speaks, looking to her as he finishes.

Eve tilts her head slightly, eyes now scanning the Colonel's face as if she could get some indication as to what would fail to make him impartial. "It shouldn't be too difficult to ascertain. But from what I understand, she's been through quite a bit of trauma. It could be some time before she's declared ready for duty again, sir. Though I understand the need to have as many competent officers as possible."

"She's a Viper pilot. Or.. was. Before she retired." His face looks like he's had a rough day. There isn't really anything to tell what might made him impartial. "She also murdered someone because she didn't like a verdict. Whether that verdict was righteous or not isn't ur problem.. But having said that, I don't believe we have anything to worry about.. but I'm not a Doctor." Fotilas lifts the glass once more and resettles it on his knee. "Between what you are talking about and everything else.. I need to know. For the sake of the Fleet and my own sanity."

Eve lifts her glass again, watching Fots over the rim of it. She pauses before she takes a drink, however, long enough to say, "I hope I can assuage you both, then." The second drink she takes is stiffer than the first, more of a heavy gulp now that she's sure her stomach can handle it. A bit of a cough later, she's asking. "May I ask why the fleet is overlooking her own murder charges?" Curiousity, not accusation.

There's a long sigh from him at her first words. A sort of inconsolable anguish that flirts with anger at every turn. He tosses back a good portion of the glass. "The Military is not overlooking her charges. Nor do we intend to. She murdered someone. However, I don't think that serving her an airlock or a firing squad will provide anyone with anything." He looks back to Eve, eyes glassed a touch by the liquor. "You'll have nothing to fear when speaking with her. She is very calm and professional. She's kept a cool head and calm demeanor despite some of the worst conditions in history. The least we can do is show her the respect and dignity that she has given us, agreed?"

Eve shakes her head slightly, "Please don't think I'm passing judgement, sir. Quite the contrary. I'm just looking for information before I step into a situation with her, that's all. I'm not a fan of capital punishment, times of war or no. So I'd be the last to advocate that fate. I need to know what she faces so I can see it through her eyes. If it is a death penalty, she may have every reason in the book to be cool headed and calm, despite actually being otherwise."

"I don't think its my place to fill you in on that," he breathes. Apparently the ex-Viper driver has earned some of his respect. Fotilas eyes the glass again. "I believe in Captial Punishment. Especially now. But I need to know its the right thing to do before I do it." Whether he's being literal isn't clear. "But I know she's been looking to the scrolls. I think she's scared.. but that's just me. I know I would be."

Eve gives a nod, holding off all other questions for the moment. It seems the rest, she'll farm out from different sources, but will no longer plague the Colonel about them. "And how are /you/, sir?" She asks, taking her turn to show a bit of concern for someone she considers a friend in some rights.

"I'm pretty low at the moment." Its an aribtrary reply that seems more off the cuff with its serving. He gives a glance with it. "Tired. If I could get everyone else under me to take some time off I might be able to do that, myself." The glass is lifted and drained. He settles it back on the desk and looks to her once more. "But the work never ends. And I need to get a few more reports signed-off on before I hit the sack." He pauses. "Don't be afraid to stop by for an escape, Evelyn." He seems to be dismissing her, but he doesn't seem like he's in much of high spirits for a talk, anyway.

Eve is quick to toss back the rest of the rum, a wince on her features as she gains her feet. "Appreciated, as always, Colonel." She lifts the empty cup, setting it down on the edge of his desk. "Thank you for the drink. Try to get some rest, I'm afraid the only perscription I can write right now for sleep aids is a knock to the noggin. Everything else has been rationed." She gives a mirthless sort of smirk. "See you soon, sir." With that, she takes the hint and heads to the door.

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