Admiral Ian Blackthorne

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Admiral Ian Blackthorne

Postby Luceo » Wed Jul 15, 2015 11:30 pm

Through Her Eyes

Although Atlantis was now safely docked at Starbase Vinland, and a clean office was available to him there, Ian Blackthorne had elected to remain based in his ready room aboard his ship. Without her warp-core heart beating and providing its subtle background hum, Atlantis felt eerily quiet. Even before they had docked, once the majority of the injured had been evacuated to other ships, the ship had seemed empty; now, with many of the remaining crew aboard Vinland, that feeling was magnified tenfold. To Ian, Atlantis felt like a house with all the children gone.

He sat at his desk, now clear of dust and debris in favor of two stacks of PADDs containing various reports, along with his personal effects that had survived the battle. The large bottom drawer that had protected his collection of fine liquor stood open, with one bottle missing. That bottle contained eighteen-year-old Scotch and now sat on the desk next to an untouched glass into which three fingers of the golden liquid had been poured. Ian was putting the final touches on a letter to the family of a deceased crew member, the latest of an interminable number, when the door chime rang.

Commander Kathryn Harper walked through the door after he answered the chime. Ian knew why she had come, and addressed her before she could speak. "You have the final after-action report for me from the Sharks, I assume."

Harper stopped on the opposite side of the desk and presented him with a PADD. "Yes, sir," she answered lifelessly.

Ian could sense the general nature of the report from the emotions she projected. "Exactly how bad is it?"

Eyes locked on the wall above his head, she answered in a quiet, evenly metered voice. "Only seven pilots survived. Four Mustangs. No Peregrines."

He exhaled a long breath, eying the drink. "Damn. I'm so sorry, Kate." The sudden drop in formality seemed to get to her as she forcibly tried to blink away tears, while keeping her eyes forward, almost standing at attention even though he had never asked it of her. "Please, sit down."

Her gaze snapped from the wall to the chair, as if his invitation had broken her resolve to maintain appropriate military decorum. Kate sat, wiping at her eyes, and gave him a wet stare, through which Ian could sense a hint of anger and resentment. "I had just finished rebuilding the Wing from the losses against the Free Fleets. I recruited anyone with piloting experience, taught them, got to know them, and now most of them are dead. I doubt I can do it again."

"I can't blame you." He produced a box of tissues from a drawer and slid them across the desk, wondering what else he could possibly say to her that might help. In truth, Ian doubted his own ability to continue after such a trauma, but that was not something a proper commanding officer should share. Ian Blackthorne was not known for being proper, however, and their decade of service together warranted candor beyond the usual military pep-talk. "I've considered retirement myself, after what we went through."

Harper took a tissue and attempted to dry her eyes, without much success. "I once wished that this had been the only job I had ever held. Now…" she trailed off, seemingly unwilling to complete the thought aloud.

"Yeah. I know."

"But why? Why do we keep throwing away good people in those fragile machines?" He could sense the anger surfacing, both empathically and in the tone of her voice. "Why… why do I have to keep losing them?"

Ian shook his head and looked down at the desk a moment, then back up at his officer in search of answers. "I'll spare you the tactical analysis of the advantages of space superiority fighters, because you know that already. As for the effective reasons, well, look at just one of the positive results. If not for the actions of the Sharks against the boarding shuttles, Atlantis would have suffered a far worse fate than one boarding party getting through. Thank you for that."

Harper's anger seemed to subside, at least somewhat, and her gaze fell from Ian to the floor, staying there for several long moments of silence. Ian finally continued, "You were out there defending your home." Thinking that an additional reminder based on some burgeoning feelings he'd sensed crossing the bridge might help, he added, "Protecting what - and who - you hold dear."

Several seconds later, she looked back up at him, eyes still moist, and whispered, "I just do not know if I can continue doing it."

"That's quite understandable, Kate. You'll have a long time to think it over, at least, and if you decide to step down as CAG, I won't fault you for it." He paused for a moment, considering whether his next thought would be welcomed given the circumstances, and decided in its favor. "Even aside from all of this, you've done that job well for seven years and may wish to consider advancing your career."

"Sir?" Kate took a fresh tissue from the box, radiating surprise. At least this time, her eyes remained dry after she wiped them, perhaps from the distraction of the subject change.

"As I said, you've not only been CAG, but a full Commander, for seven years. You're long overdue for an XO position, and I'm confident you would excel in that role. I'd hate to lose you, but there are certain to be openings, and you would have my full support in pursuing one."

Kate appeared to study him for a moment before answering, "Thank you, sir. I will consider it, but as you said, Atlantis is my home. Leaving seems almost unthinkable." He noticed that her voice had regained some of its tone.

"Change can do us all some good sometimes. As I said, these are your decisions, but give them some serious thought." A thought occurred to him, and Ian opened the top desk drawer, removing a tiny black velvet box. "On that note, I would like to give you a job to do. Something that I can get off of my inordinately long to-do list."

"Of course, Admiral."

Ian tossed her the box across the desk, which she caught in one hand. "For Lieutenant Wright."

Upon opening it and seeing its contents, Kate back at him questioningly. "Are you sure? You want me to do this?"

He nodded. "I think that it'll mean more coming from you."

Kate snapped the box closed and managed a smile. "You may be right."

Ian remembered the untouched glass of Scotch sitting right next to him, and figured that she may need it more than he did. "I poured myself a drink. Would you like it?"

Rising from her seat, Kate shook her head. "No sir. I have a lot of thinking to do, and should get to it. If that is all, of course."

"Please do. Get some rest and try to decompress. Dismissed." Once she left, the ready room was returned to its unusual silence. Ian finally took up his glass and sipped, contemplating the host of changes that were sure to come. At any rate, the Admiral needed a break from writing letters, and his next immediate concern was the appeal to save Atlantis from the scrapyard. As he savored the aged whisky, that plea began to form in Ian's mind.
"Come let us sail the boundless sea..."

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Re: CO Vice Admiral Ian Blackthorne

Postby Vanessa Brinkman » Wed Jul 15, 2015 11:36 pm

ooooo 'Rite's getting a surprise. Can't wait to see what it is!
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Re: CO Vice Admiral Ian Blackthorne

Postby Holly Kolodziejczak » Wed Jul 22, 2015 6:41 pm

I know, right?

Well-done writing from a woman's perspective!
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Re: CO Vice Admiral Ian Blackthorne

Postby Einar S » Wed Jul 22, 2015 7:40 pm

fantastic log :)
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Life Expectancies

Postby Luceo » Wed Aug 12, 2015 3:07 pm

by T'Kirr and Ian Blackthorne

The forested trail was an upward climb in most places, but not steep enough to deter Ian Blackthorne and T’Kirr. So far they had passed two people going the opposite way, but for the most part they were alone, an accomplishment in itself on the popular vacation planet of Risa. It was quiet but for the sounds of nature all around them – just what they needed. Risan birdsong came from high in the towering treetops, and subtropical ferns brushed their legs as they walked past.

T’Kirr wore tan trousers to protect her legs from underbrush and a lightweight burgundy top. Ian was dressed similarly, but with the addition of a wide-brimmed worn leather hat. They both came well prepared with sensible boots and light backpacks for their hike. Most importantly, though, the two brought with them the need for seclusion in the middle of nowhere.

Ian stopped to loose his canteen from his belt and take a drink of water. The day wasn't particularly hot, but the uphill climb could still cause one to be thirsty in a hurry. He looked around and quietly said, "Listen to that."

Stopping with him, T’Kirr glanced down, putting her keen hearing to the test. She then looked to Ian. “I only hear the usual sounds of nature.”

"Exactly." He didn't need to clarify that there were no sounds of technology around them; the luxury of their bond often made such things clear without speech.

T’Kirr mused on his words and gazed into the distance, where the trees became so thick that one couldn’t see beyond. She closed her eyes and pulled in a deep, slow breath of the clean air. The softest of sounds made her open her eyes, and she realized Ian was beginning to walk again.

"We don't get enough of this," Ian began as she joined him. "Of course there's the holodeck, but when your mind knows it's not real, it just isn't the same. This... this is tempting."

With T’Kirr following along behind him, Ian couldn’t see the rise of her slanted brow. She agreed that perhaps they should make more of an effort to plan shore leave, if even just to strengthen their relationship. Not that they didn’t work very well together, but T’Kirr could sometimes see the strain in Ian, especially after a hard mission like their last. “Is this about your thoughts on retirement?”

"I guess it is. We'd agreed to talk about it further, and now's as good a time as any, I suppose." They walked a few moments together in silence, thoughts intermingling, before he added, "Besides, we will eventually have to talk about it, regardless. Your Starfleet career could go on for another hundred years, if you wanted it to. Mine, well, obviously not." He chuckled, making light of his shorter than Vulcan lifespan.

“That is likely to come to pass, but are you ready to take a step closer to that reality?” T’Kirr asked, her tone serious. Having a natural lifespan longer than Ian’s was a fact they had always known, and she had come to terms with it, but she by no means was ready to change their lifestyle. Now was about considering what Ian wanted, however, and she was willing to listen.

He let out a long breath as they continued up the trail, then answered, "I think I could. That was too close to the end for us. One more solid hit to the Atlantis and we wouldn't be here. You mean too much to me to be deprived of the decades we could still have together."

“Yes, but are you willing to give up your career just yet? We’re enjoying our shore leave now, but how long could you manage it before you miss commanding a starship?”

"You know me so well, but that isn't exactly a surprise anymore." Ian smirked and took another drink from the canteen. "I would miss it terribly, of course. Most of my rank don't even get to leave their desks, so I've already been exceedingly fortunate. I think I'd eventually be alright with quitting while I'm ahead, but it's not just me to consider here. I wouldn't do it without you."

T’Kirr’s eyes dropped to the trail in front of her in thought. She wasn’t eager to retire, but if Ian wished it badly enough, she would follow him. It was what she did best, she always thought, and while there was merit to having a more commanding first officer, their ability to work fluidly and understand each other as well as they did had served them exceedingly well up to this point.

Ian stopped in front of her, and when she looked up she saw that there was a fork in the path. The main trail went on, but Ian was eyeing an overgrown offshoot. After only a moment’s consideration, he led the way through the thicker brush.

“I’m not ready to retire,” T’Kirr finally voiced as they climbed their way over a large fallen tree.

"I know it." And why should she be ready? He wasn't ready to retire when he was a Commander, either. Then again, Ian had been a bit more focused on climbing the ladder at that point in his career. "Perhaps I thought I could convince you, but I already knew."

“We work very well together, and I don’t want to lose that. It’s not like I don’t enjoy doing things like this with you,” T’Kirr jumped down off the obstacle in the trail. “We just… don’t know if it would stay that way.” She frowned. “Does that make sense?”

"It does. Would we get bored? Probably. Quitting would be the easy path, but how often do we seem to get to take the easy path?" He pulled a thick tree branch out of the way and held it for her as she passed, before naturally returning the lead because of his longer gait. "I'd probably end up dying in a stupid recreational accident of some sort anyway, after surviving all that we have and retiring to specifically avoid any more of that kind of risk."

T’Kirr perked an eyebrow. “It’s...certainly a possibility.” Dusting her hands free of moss and bark, she eyed the back of Ian as they trudged on up the slope. He was still very fit for his age. “Although, unlikely.”

"You're right. I'd end up choking to death on a macadamia nut instead." He laughed away the macabre notion and quietly added, "You could have had your own ship by now, but you've stayed with me. To abuse that loyalty by prematurely forcing you out of a life you love would be cruel."

Since he had voiced his consideration of retirement, it had made T’Kirr uneasy and uncertain, and while she didn’t believe Ian would force her into anything, to hear him say so gave her a measure of relief. It was foolish to think she could hold onto both him and her career forever, but the sense of having him understand her at least made it easier in the present.

The overgrowth began to thin, and a clearing could be seen ahead as they pressed forward. At the top of the hill, they broke through the treeline into a grassy patch under a wide-open sky. An expansive panoramic vista of the surrounding cliffs and sea stretched as far as they could see in either direction along the coast. "What a view!" Ian exclaimed, his eyes feasting. "It reminds me of Muir Woods - that part where you suddenly emerge from the redwoods and can see the bay and the Golden Gate."

“Yes,” T’Kirr agreed with interest. “I remember the place.” She used the peaceful location and beautiful view to calm her, breathing evenly. “Risa is certainly beautiful, and we’ve seen so little of it.”

"I'm sure Commander Harper would agree. I surely do, too." Ian sat down on the grass at the very top of the hill and took another long pull from his canteen as he stared into infinity. "This was definitely worth the climb."

Settling down next to him, T’Kirr crossed her legs and gazed out to sea. The trees below them were just as tall as the ones above them, and the fact that they could see out over them showed just how high they had climbed. She watched the edge of the surf. “Sights like this are somehow better enjoyed occasionally than frequently.”

"Perhaps," came Ian's simple reply. After a few moments, he added, "Then again, I think I could be happy living in a house right in this spot."

“It is a possibility.” T’Kirr sat with Ian for some time in thoughtful silence, absorbing the view. It was certainly a beautiful place to have a house and they would be safe here, but T’Kirr didn’t want to live on without Ian.

He could sense her thoughts become troubled, both empathically, and from what flowed across the omnipresent link between their minds. "What's bothering you?"

T’Kirr gazed out at the faraway surf in deliberation. It was a thought she'd had for some time, but never had a desire to share it with him. She hadn’t been raised to act selfishly, but in this case there was a certain logic to thinking of herself. While T’Kirr wanted to think of him, she knew that Ian would want to consider her as well. “I’m not eager to live on without you. While I in no way wished to die in this last battle, I...don’t think it would be disagreeable to continue in what we do so well and...someday face death...together.”

Darting her eyes to Ian’s, she found her own words caused her discomfort. “That’s not to say I don’t wish this as well,” she added somewhat hurriedly. “And I don’t want to die either.” T’Kirr furrowed her brow, finding herself in an unusual state of mixed perspectives. “Perhaps we can still do some of both. I...I don’t know.”

Ian took a minute before answering to consider her words and to sort them out in light of what he could sense from her. "You would rather continue to serve in Starfleet, even though there's a higher risk of death, because you prefer the idea of dying together in the pursuit of something greater than the thought of possibly having to live on alone after I die of old age? Did I sum that up correctly?"

Even in T’Kirr’s uncertain state of mind, she couldn’t help but admire Ian’s intellect. “Quite succinctly. Thank you.”

"Why, T'Kirr of Vulcan," he began with a grin, "that is highly illogical. You could outlive me by fifty years or more. What a person could accomplish in that timespan is significant, and to wish that away because of an attachment to a single person defies logic."

T’Kirr’s eyebrows bobbed in response. “You would be correct.” Her voice quieted to almost a whisper, her eyes still trained on the distant scenery. “I never said it was logical.” After pausing a moment in thought, she added wryly, “It seems I’ve been affected by a certain emotional Betazoid.”

"I'm sure there's an official name for that syndrome at the Vulcan Science Academy." Ian clasped one of her hands in both of his. "But I get it. I feel like that every time I send you to lead an away mission. If something were to go wrong I'd have the rest of my life without you, and to hell with that. So I understand, and were our biologies reversed, I would feel the same way."

“I know you do,” she assured him softly. She was reminded of the time Ian had taken a disruptor shot for her, among the many other ways he demonstrated his desire to protect her. Squeezing his hand back, T’Kirr turned her head towards him. “These things being said, would you still rather retire than continue commanding the Atlantis?”

Finding her eyes, Ian shrugged and offered a half smile. "Maybe. I can't claim that it isn't still tempting. But let's take a chance, roll the bones, and keep doing what we do best, at least for now. We get a unique opportunity to make a difference on that bridge, one that many dream of but few actually achieve. I think that we can hang on to that a bit longer."

T’Kirr once more gripped Ian’s hand, tighter than before. She could see in his eyes that they had reached an understanding, and as she leaned into him and they gazed out over the view from the mountain, it was affirmed through their metaphysical bond as a warm glow.
"Come let us sail the boundless sea..."

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Re: CO Vice Admiral Ian Blackthorne

Postby James Greenman » Wed Aug 12, 2015 3:13 pm

Gosh, it doesn't get more romantic than that. Absolutely beautiful log, both of you, I love the picture you paint of the Risian seas :allears:
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Re: CO Vice Admiral Ian Blackthorne

Postby Holly Kolodziejczak » Wed Aug 12, 2015 4:53 pm

It IS super romantic! :allears: You really brought the hike to life. Nicely done!
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Re: CO Vice Admiral Ian Blackthorne

Postby Luceo » Thu Aug 13, 2015 1:00 am

Thanks y'all! :cheers:
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As Years Go By

Postby Luceo » Fri Nov 06, 2015 11:08 pm

by Ian Blackthorne and T'Kirr

The Zuriyev home was a magnificent structure of wood and glass perched on a forested hill in Marin, affording a spectacular view of the San Francisco Bay. Admiral A.C. Zuriyev and Commodore Brooke Zuriyev usually invited Vice Admiral Ian Blackthorne and Captain T'Kirr to dinner when they were able to make it to Earth, and this evening was no exception. After the meal, the Zuriyevs and their guests had retired to the house's spacious front room to take in the view as they talked and had a few drinks.

Alexi turned from the bar and handed a glass of whisky to Ian and Brooke, knowing that T'Kirr would not want any, and that his wife had already supplied the Vulcan woman a cup of tea. "Please, have a seat!" he offered with a gesture to the leather couches and chairs. Ian and T'Kirr crossed the room to a two-seat couch and sat down together, followed by the Zuriyevs who sat across from them.

Placing her drink on the lacquered wood and stone coffee table between the couches, Brooke suddenly brightened and smiled excitedly at T’Kirr. “Oh, congratulations on your promotion! Captain, finally!”

T’Kirr dipped her head. “Thank you.”

“So,” Brooke continued, but her tone was now teasing. “When do you get your own ship?”

“I have no intention of doing so at this time,” T’Kirr replied easily before cupping her tea in both hands and taking a long sip.

"I can not blame you there," Alexi added. "The Atlantis is a special ship, as we all know, and I am of course glad that Brooke and I never took assignments that would separate us." His voice turned wistful as he continued, "My – your ship is in good hands with you two in command."

"Thanks, Alexi. She's certainly home to us, as we've discovered in the months we've been without her." Ian smiled into his drink as he took a sip of the single-malt Scotch, having noticed Alexi's change in tone, and moreover that he actually referred to Atlantis as not his, for once. The Zuriyevs had commanded Atlantis over a decade ago, and the two men had always exchanged friendly banter with Alexi never ceasing to refer to the ship as his. After a moment, Ian decided to see if there was a reason behind this concession in their rivalry, and continued, "I have to say, though, that your change of wording regarding whose ship she is comes as a surprise. Finally giving up after all these years?"

With a long sigh, Alexi turned to look at Brooke whose expression was suddenly less jovial, then back to Ian. "Well, I have been your boss for a long time, but more importantly, your friend, so I thought that you should hear this in person. I am retiring from Starfleet."

Incredulity registered on Ian's face, this news obviously being completely unexpected. T’Kirr raised an eyebrow in surprise and shared a look with him before he finally responded. "Why, Alexi? I mean, I don't intend to be rude, but you love your job, and if Brooke is not retiring as well…" He trailed off and looked to the Commodore, whose mood he could sense had soured, for confirmation.

Brooke shook her head and reached for her cup on the table, her voice deadpan. “No, I’m not retiring.”

Ian's questioning gaze turned back toward Alexi, who was busy finishing his drink. After a few long moments of stalling by glancing toward the bar, he finally answered, "It is just time, Ian; I have been the Director for a long time, and I suppose I have nothing left to do but rebuild after the war. The idea of doing that is tiresome, so perhaps it really is time to let someone else take the reins."

"Then… I suppose congratulations are in order?" Ian was certainly not convinced, and although the other Betazoid's mind was oddly closed right now, Brooke was broadcasting enough discontent to warrant suspicion. Regardless, if they would not volunteer any further information, he decided not to pry.

T’Kirr studied Alexi and Brooke in turn. Ian’s words prompted her to give her congratulations, but neither of them seemed genuinely happy about it, so she stayed silent. Her eyes lingered on Alexi. He had held a command position for quite a few years now, and it would be strange knowing that he would no longer be their Starfleet link to Earth anymore. She thought back to when she had first met him, when he had been a Rear Admiral and she began her career as an Ensign aboard Atlantis. They had only served fourteen months together before Blackthorne had taken command.

Alexi chuckled and offered a half-smile. "Command seems to think so. They are throwing me an actual parade on the Embarcadero. I hope that both of you will be there."

"Wouldn't miss it," Ian answered quickly, followed by a few moments of awkward silence, as if no one were allowed to mention the elephant in the room.

“Of course,” T’Kirr assured Alexi. “I’ll be there, too.” She then looked to his wife. “It’s a shame Brooke doesn’t seem favorable to the idea. I would think having Alexi more available would be a good thing.”

Brooke straightened in her seat. It seemed she hadn’t done well enough in keeping a straight face. She forced a grin, knowing she needed to support Alexi right now. “Oh, it is, I’m sure. It’s just...new, you know? And well, it’s like you said, I’m not retiring with him. I’m not ready to, which just makes it a bit difficult, I suppose.”

T’Kirr nodded her acceptance of this, although she wasn’t sure Brooke was being entirely honest. She wasn’t empathic like Ian was, so perhaps she would ask him about it later. T’Kirr couldn’t help but relate Alexi and Brooke’s situation to her and Ian’s recent conversation about retirement. It could make for an enlightening conversation and help them to understand one another, but it wasn’t something she thought prudent to bring up right now.

Trying to lighten the mood, Alexi leaned back and smiled. "It really has been a long career. Why, I remember Ensign T'Kirr, fresh out of the Academy, reporting aboard Atlantis when I was still in command. I never imagined she would be sitting in my living room as a Captain, the ship's XO, and my friend so many years later."

T’Kirr clasped her hands in front of her, one eyebrow bobbing. “A lot can change in so many years.”

"And so it has," Ian mused. "Even Jack Cahalan has retired."

"I heard about that. Found a nice Risan woman to settle down with, da? Good for him." Alexi stood and walked over to the bar, retrieving the bottle of whisky. "Speaking of Jack," he said, refilling the glasses as he sat back down, "that is the real end of an era. Forget Admirals, when your longtime bartender retires, that is huge."

With a chuckle, Ian answered, "Damn right." Raising his glass to the center of the coffee table, he toasted, "To retiring friends and the end of an era. May retirement take you to a place of peace, contentment, and natural fibers."

Laughing at the toast, all four of the old friends clinked glasses. The conversation moved on to happier subject matter as the hour grew later and more drinks were consumed. Once the need for sleep became too strong to ignore, the Zuriyevs insisted that Ian and T'Kirr stay in their guest room. After many battles, endless weeks spent repairing Atlantis, and nights on starbases, they accepted the offer and finally slept a peaceful night on Earth.
"Come let us sail the boundless sea..."

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Re: CO Vice Admiral Ian Blackthorne

Postby Holly Kolodziejczak » Sat Nov 07, 2015 12:02 am

Nicely done! I'm dying to know what Brooke is holding back. :?:
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