Joint Personal Log - Cmdr Ivanova & Lt Waterhouse - "Like A Comet Pulled From Orbit As It Passes A Sun"

Posted on Sun Aug 3rd, 2014 @ 4:52am by Admiral Rochelle Ivanova & Commander Amelia Waterhouse

3,399 words; about a 17 minute read

Mission: In the Dark

Amelia had parted ways with Rochelle Ivanova at the turbolift. Her friend, her commanding officer, the fiery red-head that had leapt from the top of a holographic New York sky scraper to collect Amelia's stetson for her. Rochelle had gone back to her quarters in order to transform back into a person, and stop being a drown rat, then she was due to have tea in Amelia's quarters.

Somehow Amelia's belongings hadn't made it onto the ship that'd delivered her to the Vindicator, they'd been rerouted to the shipyards Vindicator was currently headed for. Things like this were why Amelia carried her important belongings in the duffel, such as the teapot Rochelle had asked to use, or her favorite weapons like her throwing knives and nunchuks. Amelia retrieved the teapot her brother had made for her and the matching handle-less cups. Delicate white porcelain with green artwork in the antique Chinese style, featuring little turtles with ninja weapons.

Amelia changed out of the clothes she'd worn to the holodeck, setting her hat aside to clean. She pulled out of her bag a black shirt, as she pulled it on it became apparent it'd been cut open across the chest and pinned together again with safety pins. A faint scar was visible between the raw edges of the shirt. She pulled on a pair of capris with it, remaining barefoot and leaving her hair down. She pulled out the travel tin of tea she'd shown Rochelle in the holodeck, setting it next to the tea pot. She'd get the water when Rochelle arrived, so the tea would be perfect.

Warmth had been a relative term lately — it came in spades or it ignored. The bone chilling nature of it was the only reminder she had left... That and memories. Memories of fire kissing a snow-filled sky, memories of eyes, of lips, of tears. The shower, with all of it's steam, had done very little to chase away the hurt. If anything it made life a little more bearable for the Commander as she'd let it linger over her skin until porcelain was pink.

Rochelle had dressed on autopilot, seeking the comfort of a too large sweater over a cami and a trusty pair of jeans. Bundled up, with her arms folded, she'd trudged through the corridors in the same fashion so many people had walked through the snow on city streets before. But on the Vindicator there was no such substance, no such season, leaving the Commander lost in her own thoughts and closed away as she studied the deck and went on in that same fashion until a lift ride and a short time later she let her fingers press the chime to her friend's quarters.

"Enter," Amelia called, moving to the replicator for the fresh hot water.

Stepping inside, the Commander nodded to Pond. "You've done well with the place already." She mused, tying her hair up in a messy knot. "Most people would still be sitting here staring at the boxes."

"Easy to hide the boxes when they haven't arrived yet," Amelia returned with a grin as she started to fuss over the tea pot. "Anything that didn't fit in my duffel should be waiting at the shipyard when we arrive."

"Touché." said Rochelle with a small smile at the taller woman's candid attitude. It was refreshing, engaging — and most importantly — it forced her to participate. She couldn't just dismiss her with pretty smiles and little nods. Amelia was different. Amelia knew her. "We'll be warping within range and having to drift to the check point, request a tug, and go from there thanks to the handiwork of our engineer."

"That handiwork did get you back alive, and the ship can be repaired," Amelia observed, placing the lid on the teapot and waving Rochelle towards the couch to sit. The couch seemed empty, but Amelia wasn't going to dig into her duffel to find her plush turtle. Mikey had a tendency to end up at the very bottom of the duffel when traveling, and she didn't particularly want to empty the whole bag just for one piece of familiarity.

Finding a seat and curling up, as was customary at one of their little shindigs, Rochelle could only agree. "It did." She mused, blinking back the wonder at what kind of a life it had brought her back to. She was once again bound by rank and social graces, once again obliged to follow the laws set forth by Starfleet... Once more alone. She'd never admit it to the open air, but at times she lay awake feeling robbed of peace and salvation knowing that she would have died with love at least — but even that had been stolen from her. "I asked him why he did it," she started, "The engineer, that is."

"What'd he say?" Amelia settled on the couch herself, waiting just a little longer for the tea to steep before pouring.

"That he'd have done it again." She replied, studying her own hands as she let them peek from the warm comfort of her sleeves. They were healed, no longer dirty and bloodied, no longer covered in thousands of cuts and scrapes and the beginning of frost bite. "That he'd keep doing it until it didn't need doing." The sleeves bunched up, bulk, around her wrists and elbows.

"That sounds like a loaded answer," Amelia mused, watching Rochelle's fascination with her hands a moment, before moving to kneel in front of the coffee table. With a sniff above the tea pot, Amelia was satisfied it'd steeped long enough, and removed the basket with the tea leaves before pouring a cup. She handed it over to her fiery friend, the normal selection of sugar, cream, and honey available to mix in.

Rochelle nodded her thanks before sweetening her tea with honey. "I thought so." She agreed lightly as she stirred the amber liquid within her cup. The warmth began to creep upwards from her hands, reaching it's steamy, aromatic tendrils towards her very soul. There was something about tea that healed all ills — and the warm lavender notes were quick to begin to fan her worries away.

Amelia poured her cup also, carefully selecting the cup with the nunchuk wielding turtle for her own use. Once honey was added and stirred in also, she returned to the couch. "I'm glad he was so determined to get you back though," Amelia confessed, her tone taking on the that of someone in a church confessional. "Technically Intel assigned me here to watch the Ferengi that was just added to your engineering team, but I'll admit I volunteered so I'd have a chance to serve on the same ship as you again."

A small smile painted itself across the Commander's delicate features as she came away from savoring a sip. "I figured as much, our paths have an interesting way of winding together." Her head shook as she allowed herself to lean back into the comfort of the couch, the tea easing away her rigid posture and reminding her that she was among friends. "Almar is a good man, don't let the fact he's Cardassian give you any reason to think otherwise." Her fingers tightened around the cup, soaking up the heat as it emanated, "I..." She shrugged, searching for the words, "I guess I appreciate his friendship and have for quite awhile. Funny how it works that way, I'd been bent on hating every scale on him and here I am owing him my life."

"I need to make amends with him over putting my foot in my mouth on the bridge. I made a small joke, and in the tenseness of the situation, it fell flat," Amelia explained with a soft sigh, clutching the teacup under her nose. "I was going to see if I could beg some of Uncle Spiegel's moonshine off my parents to offer in apology, I think they're at the shipyards now."

A light chuckle rolled through Rochelle's chest, "He may appreciate that. Maybe." She sighed then, letting go of the hurt momentarily. Her head leaned back on the cushions as she let her frail body slide down a bit. They couldn't cure the weight loss that had come with the stress and depletion of fluids, and while the sweater hid it well, it didn't solve the problem or erase the cause. "How much have you heard about the situation?" She asked, her eyes fluttering closed as she prepared to listen.

"I showed up in the middle of the chaos trying to find you and Neyes, I didn't get much information about what happened." Amelia turned on the couch, resting her arm along the back as she tucked a single leg up under herself, the other still danging off the front of the couch.

A single icy eye opened and the coordinating eyebrow arched high, "Don't reader's digest me. You're an intelligence officer and I'm your friend. Tell me what you've heard."

"Oh, you want the gossip rags stuff, not the legit verifiable stuff," Amelia teased with a smirk. She shook her head, and took a sip of her tea. "Sickbay was all a twitter about how you and Neyes were beamed in. That's absolutely all any of the nurses will talk about, even if plied with good alcohol."

The eye closed, the eyebrow dropped and a heavy sigh ensued. "He fought for me." Rochelle breathed, watching the events unfold behind her eyelids, drawing another sip to try and help steady her hands.

"Fought for you?" Amelia tilted her head to the left, looking at Rochelle. She rested her teacup on the back of the couch in the curve of her hand.

"Fought for me." Said the tiny woman that was curled into the corner of the couch. Her tongue worried the fullness of her lower lip as she sorted the images in her mind. "None of this goes further than this room... It won't be in my report," she began, moving only to set the cup down on the coffee table and sit back, burrowing her hands back in the sweater once more.

Images became words, a guidance for the story she weaved that started the moment she'd chosen to seek Landon's comfort the night she was taken. She remembered him, them, every second and every precious moment as it ticked by in her mind. She spoke of being held, of the Noturans, of the cannibalism, of the way she'd busted skulls to free herself. She spoke of him, all of him — and that was where she began to shake. At first it was nothing but a shiver of adrenaline at the memories that burst through the flood gates, and then it was an outward quivering that let the color drain from her cheeks. It was when she spoke of their flight across the snowfields, of the switch from Neyes to Landon that tears pricked at her eyes like a swarm of relentless bees.

There would be no stopping them as she explained how she'd confessed her love and he his -- a love that would never be fulfilled, one that had been damned from the inception. "So..." She said at long last with a shaky breath, "we jumped rather than be caught, rather than die knowing that we'd be ripped apart and turned into some victory dinner."

Rochelle's lips pursed then as she wiped her eyes with a cold finger, adrenaline having robbed it of its warmth, "The last thing I felt was him holding onto me as if that was all that mattered." A small smile, a sad smile became her, "and in those seconds that's all that really did."

As Amelia listened, she set her teacup aside on the coffee table, and reached out to lay a hand on Rochelle's knee. She would have hugged the smaller woman, but she was still learning boundaries within their friendship. They'd shared their moments on Griffin, but the friendship had certainly deepened just in the short time they'd been reunited here on the Vindicator.

"I wish there was something I could say, or do..." Amelia finally said, unsure what else could be said. Her heart broke for her friend just from hearing it all laid out, she couldn't possibly imagine what it'd been like to live it.

There was silence for a short moment as Rochelle considered her friend's words, "There's nothing anyone can do." She replied in a hushed whisper, her eyes finally opening to search the willowy one's face, "It was just never meant to be and I'm responsible for his fall." Her hands found her tea again, wrapping around the cooling half-filled cup. It was the second time she'd cried over it, this time far calmer than the wracking sobbing mess she'd been in Almar's arms, but cried none-the-less.

"No one is responsible for who anyone else falls in love with," Amelia insisted.

"Not that kind of fall," Rochelle's head shook as she swallowed a sip, "his fall from grace. The fact he's now in the hands of the Trill. The fact he's broken. That kind of fall."

"It's all the same thing though," Amelia settled back in her corner of the couch, collecting her teacup again. "People do amazing things and stupid things in the name of love. Just watching my parents..." Amelia sipped her tea. "Mama always told Noah and I to never hold back, though with how long she and Dad knew each other before getting married, I can't help but wonder what she actually means."

"I don't think I can do it again." The shorter of the two of them answered back, blinking in thought, "Ever." Another sip, another small sigh, another shake of her head as she worked at drowning the looming feeling of guilt. "I commend those who can."

Amelia frowned; she wanted to argue and protest, but it occurred to her that letting Rochelle heal first, to pick up the pieces of her broken heart, would probably be for the best. "It hurts, but plenty of good comes from hurt. If nothing else, a better appreciation of the good when compared to the bad," Amelia observed. "Not that it's on the same level, but the pain while learning with my nunchuks certainly taught me how to use them without hitting myself." Amelia laughed, hoping the slight topic change would let Rochelle push the heart ache to the subconscious again, let the back of her mind chew on it a while.

The Commander's brow furrowed and she eyed the other woman sidelong, considering the statement before raising an eyebrow, "You're a strange bird, Pond, a real strange bird."

"Not so strange," Amelia insisted, tilting her head to the side. Distraction clearly was not the answer here, so Amelia dove straight in. "Look, if he didn't think you were worth it, he wouldn't have come for you, he wouldn't have risked so much. That level of dedication, it isn't a whim or a fluke, and it's not something you can prevent. It's a gift, and you can either mourn that you lost it, or you can treasure that you had it, if only for a fleeting while."

Sucking in a breath, Rochelle held it as she considered her friend's words, and ultimately released it in a sigh. The sound of Landon's voice, the touch of his lips, his hands -- they all played on repeat as she organized her thoughts and gently tried to shoo them away, but so very afraid of them fading into complete oblivion. "The heart is a fickle thing, Pond, it wants what it wants and overrides the brain." She mused out loud, shaking her head, "I can't question or deny it... I can only be comforted by the fact that such a thing existed, that I had it, and now learn to let it go and stay away from it in the future." Or was it that staying away from it had caused the entire issue? She couldn't decide, not yet... Not while it was so fresh. "I'm scared of losing again."

"Anything worth having will always hurt to lose," Amelia admitted. "My mother's the strongest person I know, and if someone so much as mentions the idea of something bad happening to my father... Well, she tries to hide it, but the fear is obvious to anyone who knows her."

"It's a rational fear." The Commander replied, swallowing hard, "I just don't know if I could ever go through it again and given my line of work, the risk of loss always has the high hand."

"It is, but many find the risk worth the reward. Even what little I had with Terry told me this," Amelia admitted, a soft frown gracing her lips. "The heart break when he walked away from me wouldn't stop me from pursuing that connection with someone else, and it hadn't even fully developed... probably because he wasn't fully invested."

"I'd think you would look for it in spite of Terry." Rochelle scoffed lightly, rolling her eyes at the mere mention of the scientist, "He was a real piece of work, hardly worth your time or effort."

"There were things about him that meshed really well with me," Amelia insisted, wondering if Rochelle had noticed the rope that she'd thrown down the corridor after the former marine as he'd made his less than strategic retreat. "And when he was there, he was a sweetheart." Amelia sighed.

"They all have their merits, even Taggart had his."

"What did happen there? He seemed like a good guy, from what interaction I had with him..." Amelia couldn't help remembering the testing he'd asked for her help on with a couple version of rail gun prototypes.

"That's another story for another time, unfortunately." Rochelle curled back into her corner, huddling back into the warmth of her sweater.

Amelia nodded, making a mental note to follow up on that later. "Speaking of former Griffin crew, I'm playing catch up with Teá later. Do you keep up with her?"

An eyebrow shot up at the name as it left Amelia's lips, and Rochelle's nose snaked low into the cowl collar of her sweater, leaving only the ice of her eyes exposed. "That one..." She all but snorted, "is fixing for a court martial unless she straightens up, flies right, and starts realizing that she's the low man on the totem pole."

"And here I thought I'd only be defending Sean's honor," Amelia mused. "Do I want to ask what she's been up to? She was a perfectly good officer in Griffin security when I was there..." She leaned forward to collect the tea pot and top off her cup, then held the pot up to Rochelle to see if she wanted the same.

"Because you were there and she had limits or feared retribution from you." Rochelle responded, nodding at the offered tea. "Here? She runs wild with an attitude and a mouth as if she's entitled to the entire ship." The woman recanted, muffled by the soft yarn cowl as she spoke, the heat of her own breath warming her nose. "Put a collar and a leash on her for more than just Sean's sake."

Amelia nodded, as she topped off Rochelle's teacup; considering it, it had surprised Amelia to see Teá on the bridge during that Tribble storm that surrounded Commander Archer's return to the ship. She hadn't thought about it at the time because she'd been in a hurry, and everything that'd happened since then had driven the thought from her head until now. Teá was straddling Intel and the Marine core currently, and been doing a lot of field work before that.

"I know I had a difficult time adjusting when I came back from the mines, and Teá had been doing a lot of field work since Griffin. It's possible that's part of it, but I'll see if I can give her a wake up call, before it ruins her career, and breaks my best mate's heart." Amelia sighed.

"I'd be much obliged. Less paperwork for me to have to take on in the long run if she straightens up and flies right." Rochelle guffawed lightly, uncurling long enough to take up her cup.



=/\= END LOG =/\=

Commander Rochelle Ivanova
Acting Commanding Officer
USS VINDICATOR

Lieutenant Amelia Waterhouse
Infiltration Specialist
USS Vindicator

 

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