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“I hear you’ve had a rough go,” Qui
Pe
“Okay, then,” Qui
“Like an idiot,” Pe
“It’s not your fault,” Qui
Frowning, Pe
“Maybe,” Qui
Pe
His expression turning to one of confusion, Qui
That’s a damned lie. Pe
Qui
“Believe it or not, it’s good to see you, Qui
“Yeah,” his friend replied, averting his gaze to stare at something on the wall behind Pe
“What,” Pe
Qui
“Thinking that the last time we spoke, you acted like a complete bastard?”
To Pe
“And where’s the Cervantes Qui
“Well, don’t,” Qui
“This time, anyway,” Pe
Qui
Angry at himself and his own stupidity, Pe
Releasing a sigh of exasperation, Pe
Damn you, Qui
The sound of his door opening yet again startled him from his reverie, and he looked up to see yet another unexpected visitor.
“T’Pry
Just outside the doorway, dressed in her familiar red Starfleet uniform and with her hair pulled back into a functional, regulation bun, the Vulcan stood with her hands clasped behind her back. “May I enter without disturbing you?”
“Probably not,” Pe
T’Pry
Pe
Her right eyebrow arching, T’Pry
“Of course not,” Pe
Stepping closer, T’Pry
“Wait, they actually have such a thing?” When T’Pry
“I understand how your recent trauma might alter your perceptions,” T’Pry
Pe
“Excellent,” T’Pry
“Ah,” Pe
“It is not your recorder,” T’Pry
It took Pe
“Your files are complete,” T’Pry
“I suppose they could,” Pe
T’Pry
“But not my only one,” Pe