She paced that little room for ages, intentionally ignored the ship’s chronometer to which she often intimately tied. Eyeing the crates, she gave a growl of frustration as she slammed the lids closed, no closer to finding her desired object. Why hadn’t she brought them to Sickbay? They could have hung out with her emitter charger. But maybe it was pointless to cling to anything sentimental.

He hadn’t asked, but his mind had been preoccupied with the task at hand. But as Cori has been combing through her crates as he explained the situation he was now in, it became abundantly clear as she had glanced in that last box that they were gone. Probably forever. She could replicate new ones, but it didn’t matter. That wasn’t the point. It was one piece of the Human her that was also taken away.

For a solid two minutes she stood in one spot, her fingers drumming hard on her thigh. She was torn. What he was asking from her wasn’t fair, but he had come to her. Eventually. When he needed something of her. She had no obligation to go out of her way to make his life easier, even if that was in fact helping some child she didn’t even know. But she wasn’t some despicable monster and even in her anger towards Jarred, Corrine Dalton was still herself. She still cared about people. It’s why she was able to feel as hurt as she was.

But she still didn’t know what to do!

Had she been able to breathe real breaths, she’d have found herself gasping slightly as a panic attack took hold. Instead, it manifested as a jitteriness and inability to stand still. She should go back to Sickbay, put her emitter away and just take time for herself. But then what? What would isolating herself in the system accomplish anyway?

With a forced exhale, she enquired as to the whereabouts of a particular person and frowned. They were alone and all obvious signs were that they were awake, but… still.

Ah, screw it! He’ll tell me to get lost if I’m bothering him.

It was early evening when she approached Sinclair’s quarters and pressed the chime. Cori has taken the long way around, doing her best to avoid running into anyone. She was ‘off-duty’, as evidenced by her plain black top and trousers and loose raven hair, but more than anything was the look of anguish she couldn’t hide on her holographic face. She had caught her gaze in a panel in the corridor and felt disgruntled even further when she saw her expression. She didn’t want to feel this way and it was clear it was not going to magically change on its own.

~Corinne Dalton