Joint Personal Log - LtCmdr Dahe`el, Cmdr Ivanova - Resting I hope?

Posted on Mon Jul 28th, 2014 @ 4:20am by Admiral Rochelle Ivanova

2,795 words; about a 14 minute read

Mission: In the Dark

It had been less than 24 hours... less than 24 hours since a ship that was never really designed for atmospheric flight had nearly demolished a city in an effort to rescue a handful of crew on a Godforsaken planet. One, in particular, had been the intended target of the Cardassian who had ordered such a dramatic course of action.

He now found himself striding down the corridor towards the First Officer's quarters, he'd promised the Chief Medical Officer that he would see to it personally that Rochelle was resting. She had been released from sickbay and into her own care, the Doctor had made him swear on his grey and scaly life that he’d keep tabs on her.

To Rochelle, the softness of her bed had been a welcome reprieve for a few hours. The constant motion and flurry of activity in sick bay surrounding her and Landon had been enough to make her ill -- to make her far more nervous than she already -- was a given the turn of events that had happened. They'd been saved in the nick of time, right before disaster could strike and steal them both from the future. Death had snarled at them, vexed that such precious prizes had been ripped away from his brutal clutches by the roaring engines of a massive ship that defied logic. And it had. Truly. Rochelle had never been given the chance to hear the angry whine of the impulse engines as they struggled to work in Notura’s atmosphere.

The comfort that had come with her own bed and pillows had died, however, when the nightmares came to plague her. Each one tore at her delicate psyche, threatening to consume her with new demons that launched themselves from the shadows. Sleepless, by choice, she stood at her window, staring out at the stars when the chime of the door nearly sent her out of her own skin. Her raw nerves still failed to realize she was safe in the security of her own quarters high above anything that could hurt her. "Come." she called, closing her eyes and settling herself, tugging her robe tighter around her pajama clad frame.

Stepping in through the door slowly, Almar found himself coming to a halt and regarding Rochelle with new eyes. He'd fought to find her, put the ship at risk... to find her, it was a concept quite alien to the Cardassian and it scared him slightly as he took another step forward, "I promised the good Doctor that I would check on you."

The woman looked over her shoulder at the sound of his voice and the feel of his eyes. A small smile of greeting tugged at the corners of her pouty mouth, "You did." she respond and blinked back towards the window. Part of her had resigned to never seeing the stars again -- or him. She stiffened slightly. So much had been lost in trying to retrieve her. "As far as I'm concerned, I'm resting."

Almar stepped up next to her, sharing the view and placing a hand on her shoulder gently, "Be sure that you are Rochelle," he replied, a soft smile crossing his features as he removed the hand, her name felt different on his lips. It wasn't often that he had used it before.

The stars left the petite woman’s view as she looked over at him, her attention broken by the weight and warmth of his hand. "I can't just stay in bed. It doesn't work that way." She shook her head and released her iron grip on the front of her robe, letting the fabric relax back against the binds of its tie and the Vindicator’s artificial gravity. The wetness of her freshly showered hair hung across the shoulder opposite the one his hand had rested on, chilling the bare skin of her neck as she tilted her head to regard him. It’s presence was a cruel reminder of how she’d rubbed, almost brutally, at her own skin as if trying to wash off the experience. Luckily, for her, the robe’s long sleeves hid the healing pink areas that had nearly been scrubbed raw.

"You and the Ferengi," Rochelle started, "it was your plan that saved us. Thank you." Her eyes followed the lines of his uniform, up over his broad chest, the scale plates along his neck, jaw, and finally searched the contours of his face until she found his eyes.

"It came at the cost of our entire network of thrusters, but it was well worth the extra time needed to repair them." Almar replied with a smile as his eyes met hers, "Without the Ferengi's drones, it would have taken much longer, even with the Vindicator in the atmosphere."

“We were prepared to die.” She swallowed hard, “I think you know that we didn’t have an extra second.” Her eyes closed as she remembered the fateful moment they’d decided to jump, sparing themselves the horrors of being captured and rendered. A shiver ran through her body, her nerves and psyche remembering what it was like to be frightened, cold, dying and heartbroken all at the same time. “I’m forever in your debt, Almar… The Vindicator and her thrusters will forgive you.”

"I'm sure she will, I'm just glad to have you back," the Cardassian replied as he clasped his hands on her shoulders, attempting to reassure her with a firm, yet caring touch.

Rochelle moved to take one of his hands, pressing her palm to his. His hand easily dwarfed hers, a stark reminder of just how little she really was in the broad spectrum of things. Little, but fierce when push came to violent shove. "I won't mention that you should have left us," She murmured, "That the needs of the crew outweighed rescuing us and putting the Vindicator in danger." But she wasn't chastising him, she wasn't yelling, she wasn't even upset as she fanned her fingers out across the expanse of his palm, studying the difference of color, of texture, of size.

"That kind of thinking is for a Captain," the Cardassian replied, the touch of her hand sending shivers up his arm and down his spine, "I'm no Captain, I'm just an Engineer," he added as he curled his fingers gently over the top of hers, "The needs of the many... perhaps, but what this crew needs is it's command team."

“An Engineer, yes.” She nodded, her eyes half lidding as she watched his fingers close over and engulf hers. “They have half of the team, the lesser half.” She mused out loud, “Captain Neyes… It goes without saying that the Trill have their customs,” He was alive, gone, but alive and Rochelle knew in her heart that was the finest of alternatives. Such was the heart of a martyr. “but the point is that you did what you did and I… ” Her head tilted, her jaw tipping up as she looked towards his face once again. “I’m grateful.”

"I'd do it a thousand times over," the Cardassian replied as he pulled her closer and embraced her, his free hand wrapping itself around her shoulders, protecting her from the world below, the world outside the doors of the room, protecting her from as much as he possibly could.

Rochelle’s breath caught as he pulled her to him, her fingers lacing with his, holding him for everything she was worth. Her other hand was quick to rest on his chest, balling into a fist as her cheek rested against one of his pecs. He was warm, solid… Safe. There in the Cardassian’s arms she broke, the tears coming quick and hot, her body shaking as she fought back the choking sobs that swiftly overpowered her and consumed her entire body. “You shouldn’t have. You should have just let me go!” She cried, muffled by his uniform.

The medical team may have been able to put her back together, leave her with nary a mark, but they couldn’t heal the wounds inflicted to her psyche. They couldn’t take away the helplessness that she felt or the pain that savagely lingered. They couldn’t quell the nightmares that kept her from sleep. So much had been lost to save her.

"Like I said, I'd do it again and again, I'd keep on doing it until it didn't need doing." Almar replied as he held her tight, cradling her against his large chest, "I couldn't let you go." he added as he brushed a strand of hair out of her face and behind her ear.

Her head shook slightly, "No." She sniffled, breaking her press against him to look up, taking his chin between her fingers, "Never again."

"I can't make any promises Rochelle," the Cardassian replied as he looked into her tear-soaked eyes, "If you ever find yourself in trouble, I will always be first in line to come and get you, ship or no ship, I will come for you,"

A sad little smile tugged at the corners of her mouth her head still shaking, "you don't listen very well, do you?" Rochelle asked, drawing a breath and trying to slow her crying down. She was instantly reminded of the battle simulations they'd engaged in. She'd ordered him to stand down, demanded it -- and he'd pressed on. Bull headed, stubborn, Almar reminded her so very much of herself.

Almar pulled her close again and pressed her cheek to his chest, resting his chin on her head and exhaling softly, "You know this already," he replied with a slight chuckle, "When I set my sights on something, I will move Heaven and Earth to see it done."

With a shaky sigh, the woman allowed him to embrace her once again. In his arms she was safe, only memories could hurt her, and he threatened to dispatch those too. Almar stood to replace the hurt and erase the cold, crooked feelings of loss and pain that ran the gauntlet with them. To her, as she stood there bundled up and hidden in his hold, it seemed ironic at best to think that just a few months ago she'd been so inclined to hate him for the sins of his race... And now? Now she allowed him to touch her freely and see her, feel her, at her most vulnerable. "Never change."

"Never," the Cardassian replied simply as he tightened his embrace ever so slightly, cocooning her against all of the evils in the universe and giving a single point of reference for anything she might be feeling, attempting to keep her in the here and now, where there was safety and security.

"As much as I would love to stay here Rochelle, I have a ship to repair and run," Almar sighed reluctantly, still maintaining his hold on her until he was sure she would be ok with him leaving, "I can hold down the fort until you are able to return."

She nodded against him, the Commander in her understanding the needs of the injured ship. She could feel the Vindicator as if it were a great sentient being, a warhorse perhaps, and while it was proud in all of it's victories, it was hurting. Hurting because of her. Hurting because she had violated protocol on a night when she should have been sitting and resting, watching Almar to be sure he was warm enough. She cringed, chasing away the guilt. "I know." Rochelle replied in the smallest of voices, "I'll be back on the bridge tomorrow, keep her happy until then." She could have stayed with him, curled into him, forever. Instead she sniffled and bit her lower lip as she gathered up the energy necessary to peel herself away from the shelter he provided from the storm.

"I will be by your side when you get there," the Cardassian replied, it hurt him to pull away from her, he could feel her need, he could feel the effort that it was taking her to let him go and his touch lingered on her hand as they finally parted, "Might I suggest we regroup, preferably somewhere we can have a bit of a break, I think we could all do with some time, maybe somewhere warm?"

Cold air rushed in to take the place of his body against hers, inch by inch unveiled and yielded slowly brought her back to the bitter reality and truth that she was still the Commander. Now she was in charge of the Vindicator, standing there holding the reins of a great nervously prancing beast that had just lost the valiant knight that had cared for her. It was a nightmare. It was as if the charger had shaken it's head, throwing her around on the other end and forcing her to both offer discipline and a soothing hand to steady the already frayed nerves brought about by battle. Reality check. She couldn't just be the grieving woman, she was a warrior after all.

"I know you will." Rochelle nodded, squeezing his hand one last time before she felt their fingers slide away from one another, severing the affectionate tie they'd shared. "I have to check in with the Fleet and let them know what's happened, but I agree..." She began, tugging at her robe again, "we need a little rest. I'll be sure it happens one way or another."

"I'll come and see you shortly before you're due on the bridge, I know you'll say you'll be good to go, but like me, you're stubborn," Almar replied as he took a step backwards and smoothed his hair back against his head, a stray lock being moved and revealing the indentation on his head fully, "We also have... an issue to deal with, when you're feeling up to it."

"I will be." The woman retorted predictably, watching him as he moved away from her, "But I'll appreciate the company for the trip up there." It wasn't that she'd need moral support, or that she'd want it. She did, however, want to know that she wasn't alone. She was about to let him take his leave and return to her view of the stars when he spoke again and her brows furrowed, "what kind of issue?" Suspicion and worry instantly crept into her veins.

"I'll brief you on the way up to the bridge, but if you insist on digging beforehand, you might want to look up the man we're currently holding in the brig and find out why he commandeered our ship and used it to destroy three pursuing Romulan ships." the Cardassian replied, knowing that she wouldn't let the subject rest if he hadn't told her anything extra.

Her eyes widened at the news and instantly she felt her heart sink and her stomach churn. She was going to be sick. "Computer, identify the prisoner in holding cell one." She said, her voice flat as worry spun in her mind. It wasn't enough that she was nearly dead, now she had hooligans blowing up ships with the Vindicator.

The computer chirped.

"Cell one is occupied by James Maxwell Archer, Commander, Chief Intelligence Officer of the USS Vindicator."

Him. Worry mixed with the hot tinge of irritation and anger as it flooded across her senses. "That sorry son of a --" she caught herself, wiping her eyes and shaking her head. He wasn't worth it, wasn't worth her precious energy at that very moment, and she'd promised Almar that she'd rest. "I'll handle it tomorrow. He's the son of Admiral Archer, the Admiral Archer. Unfortunately that means that what he did had motive and it's those motives that worry me the most. Let him cool his heels in holding. It'll do him some good."

"That was the plan, now get yourself into bed, or at least lying down for a bit of rest," Almar replied as he made his way to the door, "The Commander can wait."

Rochelle blew a sigh as her eyes followed him out, "Yes, Commander. I promise to rest." The world would never be same, not when ice threatened to replace her inner fire... Not when she knew exactly what lay beneath the snowfields.

"I'll see you in the morning," Almar replied, a smile fixed on his face as he left, "It's good to have you back Rochelle."

"In the morning." She nodded with a little smile of her own. "It's good to see you again." And then? Silence resumed. He was gone and she was once more left to her memories and thoughts.

---

Commander Rochelle Ivanova
acting Commanding Officer
USS VINDICATOR

Lieutenant Commander Almar Dahe'el
Chief Engineering Officer
USS VINDICATOR

 

RSS Feed