Every Second Lost - Commander Ivanova

Posted on Sat Jun 14th, 2014 @ 4:05am by Admiral Rochelle Ivanova

1,715 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: In the Dark

Hours... They ticked by in painful seconds leaving only the sound of dripping water and the occasional squeak of a rodent to tell time by. The bittersweet symphony that proved that life still existed only served to become a ruined reminder of captivity more more than a creature comfort. Time wasn't healing the wounds inflicted against the soul. Memories, designed to fade, only served to become so much more horrific -- so much more real.

Rochelle lay cold and all but broken against the damp cave floor, her throat dry and sore from the grim combination of manhandling and bitter air she was forced to suck in. Life wasn't worth this, a fact her fingers and bare feet repented for over and over again as they begged forgiveness for their fight against the wet shale walls. If only her Vindicator could see her now, laying in a pool of frigid pity and unpinned red mane in sharp contrast to the bruised porcelain of her skin.

She'd slept for what felt like days when only hours had ticked by. Fitful frightful hours that threatened to steal away her sanity and lay waste to her fighting spirit. The little Commander curled tighter, repeating a mantra that she was only biding her time before she'd make her escape - that Landon, Almar, someone would come for her and they'd fight through the haze together. It was almost too much, too surreal and too cruel a reminder of what Andrea had dealt with when Aceyhola had kidnapped her friend.Too stark a reminder of the pain and helplessness she'd felt during the attack on Whydah.

She shuddered. Groaned. Shivered more as she unfurled her tiny form and drew the water and food nearer to herself. In spite she'd denied herself sustenance. In desperation she ate and drank, trying to consume more power as her taste buds were assaulted with the foul protein they'd served her. Pork? No. Something far more gamey. Something different to anything she'd ever tasted before. It didn't matter. She was hungry, never truly stopped to savor the fare.

She coughed then, a rattling sound that shook her tiny frame and left her aching throat just that much more upset. Immediately a chilled hand lifted to rub the skin there, trying to soothe the inner hurt only to pause over the nearly alien feeling of the scar that marred her satin soft neck. Her eyes half-lidded with a small shake of her head. Memories, thousands of them clear as day, played out in her tired mind.

-------

"The bastard chipped my tooth!" Rochelle hissed to herself as she managed to perch on a Biobed, holding an already soaked piece of gauze to her neck and cradling her arm in a most awkward fashion. No one escorting her in to the Griffin's sick bay dared respond. They knew better. Knew she was just exclaiming her shock and venting the anger that was undoubtedly boiling the adrenaline laced blood in her veins. Ever since Dani had dragged her would be murderer off of her, Rochelle had been nothing more then a wildcat caught in a storm. Harder to handle then usual, and downright vicious towards the station's staff. She'd refused to see their medics, demanding to be sent to Dr. Rose instead.

And with good reason.

Rochelle refused to trust anything on the Godforsaken Whydah anymore. Being nearly blown to bits was one thing, but a full on hand-to-hand attempt on her life? Another thing entirely. But the wildcat was also somber.

Someone had died.

"Commander Ryan was a good man," The station Commander had commiserated. "He was." Rochelle had replied and then ordered for his chemically charred body to be recovered and handled according to Star Fleet protocol. He'd be given a hero's burial back on Earth regardless of the nature of his actions in the moments leading up to the assault that had claimed his life and left her bloodied. Rochelle, while brutal, was not heartless.

Ryan stepped quickly into sickbay, having been called with a "get the hell down here now". When Owens barked like that, he obeyed. It was apparent he'd been interrupted however. His hair was a mess, and he was still trying to step into a boot while getting his right arm into his lab coat.

"Commander." Ryan stopped at the end of the bio bed the XO was perched on. He looked at her appraisingly, then reached for his medical tricorder. "What happen?" He asked gently, not wanting to risk the well known temper.

"We were attacked. Commander Ryan is dead, save yourself the autopsy he was burned to death." The redhead answered, the cold blue of her eyes roaming the doctor's mussed hair and crinkled appearance. It was different. So very different. "Atarah saved my life, couldn't save the uniform or my tooth, and I think I re-broke my collarbone."

Ryan's expression showed his shock, but answers would have to wait until after proper medical care. The scan he'd been doing while she talked did indeed show her collar bone was broken. The chipped tooth was visually obvious. It was the gash on her neck that worried him, it was too close to the Jugular for his comfort.

He reached for the dermal re-generator.

Rochelle quickly shied away, not violently or in a frightened manner, but a shy none the less. The movement made her cringe in pain and a fresh seeping of crimson greet her already saturated gauze pad and tattered collar. "Let it heal naturally. Sometimes its good to be reminded we're only human." She whispered, pulling the futile piece of medical batting away from her neck.

Ryan paused, "It's too close to the jugular for that, but if you want I can stitch it up the old fashioned way." It was the most he could offer in NOT providing medical care, which always sat poorly with him.

"If you must." The Commander nodded gently in understanding. She wouldn't challenge him, couldn't. The only thing he was guilty of was caring. Rochelle deflated a bit. "You can go high tech on everything else. Do what you need to." She offered almost as a peace promise in contrast to her usual hatred of and lack of cooperation with all things medical.

When the Nurse brought him the suture kit, he quietly made sure Commander Ryan was in the morgue. He didn't know the man, but any loss of life stung, especially when there wasn't even a chance to try and save it. With the unpleasant but necessary business behind him he slowly pulled the stool over to Ivanova's bed. Eyeing the nasty wound more closely. "It's going to leave a scar" He informed her, though he was quite aware that was the entire point of her asking him to leave it alone.

"I assumed as much... If I find it too ugly, you can play plastic surgeon later. Apparently scar removal is very much part of being human." Ivanova closed her eyes and pursed her lips at the grim humor in this face.

Ryan cleaned and numbed the area then with small precise stitches began to close up the wound. "Were you able to determine why the station was attacked?" He asked as he worked.

"Yes," She nodded, sitting quietly and almost subdued in nature as she allowed him to work on her, "Me." The one word answer fell heavy as steel from her lips and into the already charged atmosphere. "I'm almost certain of it."

Ryan looked over at Adam, who was working on the Commander's collar bone. He made a mental note to have Logan talk with her. "What do you mean?" Ryan asked.

"Two attacks. The first was very general. The second was very direct. They killed Commander Ryan as a distraction. I can't help but come to that conclusion." Rochelle winced at both her own words and the pressure of the needle that would have been pain if it wasn't for being numbed.

"I'm sorry." Ryan spoke softly. Both for the experience she'd recently endured, and for her current discomfort.

"Me too." She nodded in a most somber fashion. "I guess with the bad comes the good, though, now that we know a why we can concentrate on the who."

Ryan nodded, accepting her comment. It was only a moment later that he was done with her stitches, and Adam wan done handling the collarbone. That only left the chipped tooth, which was easy enough to fix.

"Ok, the stitches will self dissolve, but if you get any seepage along the wound, come back."

Rochelle smirked at the order to come back and looked at the doctor with tired eyes. It was going to be a long night. "if there's seepage." She agreed, letting them all finish up with measured patience. "Thank you for your time and expertise as usual."

"You're very welcome Commander." Ryan gave her a polite smile.

She nodded to him in the same polite fashion, "Will that be all?"

Had it been Dani or even Andrea on the biobed, Ryan would have made a quip about staying to help paint sickbay. But this was Commander Ivanova. "Yes ma'am." Then he took a step back making a very clear path for her to excuse herself.

-----

A sigh broke her parched lips, the memory of a death -- the near miss of her own. The flash and bang of the explosion on the Whydah that had nearly killed everyone she knew and loved. Rochelle's heart hurt as she confronted the fleeting images of a cruel and brutal ghost -- the things that tortured her each and every night she lay her weary her head to rest.

Perhaps, truly, it was better if she died here in the Hell hole they'd thrown her in. No longer would people suffer for her, die for her... No longer would she feel the guilt that came along with remembering faces and places and things. Her fingers left the age worn scar and tugged the dirty collar of her shirt as high as it would go.

Sleep... It was all she could do... Perhaps to dream without a memory...

------

Commander Rochelle Ivanova
Executive Officer
USS VINDICATOR

Lieutenant Ryan Rose
CMO - USS GRIFFIN (played by Selen)

 

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