If Wishes Were Dreams Realized pt IV - JL Cmdr Ivanova, Commo Levine (apb Moo), Noturan Captor (apb Moo)

Posted on Sun Jul 20th, 2014 @ 5:55am by
Edited on on Wed Jan 4th, 2017 @ 2:04am

5,106 words; about a 26 minute read

Mission: In the Dark

If wishes were dreams realized, than Rochelle knew what she'd wish for herself. She desired an end to her pain, both physical and emotional, an end to her years of torment and unfulfilled hopes. How much tribulation and loss could one person be expected to bear? How much loss should one person have to deal with before she was allowed to grieve?

As she held onto her knees, toying with the ends of her blood and dirt caked hair, her heart screamed at fate's injustice. She railed at life's capriciousness that would allow her to suffer for so long and with such little hope. What held her together? What gave her the strength to persevere through all the years of obfuscation and dead ends?

And, this... Would this be the straw that finally broke her?

Rochelle held onto her trembling heart as nearly twenty-seven years of grief welled up having been given purchase by the cold and drugs. It was too much, this kidnapping, her mother's death. Would the brutes that had stolen her release her from the pain, finally? Would it allow her to put resolution to the demons that had driven her for so many years? Or, would this be the thing that pushed her into hopelessness, over the edge from genius into madness. A cold, stormy blue eye peered out from behind her knees, her battered fingers releasing the autumn strand they held. Andrea had besought her to stop and think, to plot and plan and twist things to her advantage. The Whydah had stolen that from her, or had it? It had left her afraid of the dark and terrified of sleep -- but Landon and Almar had slowly begun to give her hope with their stories and their presence. She breathed a heavy sigh through parched lips, shifting to set her chin astride her dirty knees. She missed them, all of them -- even Archer, the self-righteous pain in the ass.

And then she spied it. The blue mark of her bond to the Atlantean high prince, designating her as the first and only human born Queen of a race she wanted no part of. Another set of memories. Another set of pains she'd all but forgotten. Another pang of hurt that welled up in her chest... And... Landon... He had her band. The memories of that night, the closeness of him as she'd begun to bare her soul and removed the leather that hid the truth from the world. The past she wanted to shake. A past his eyes had started to erase as they sprawled across his makeshift bed in the run about. Maybe she did have the fight left in her, the ability to spring from the ashes like the phoenix so many referred to her as after the Whydah incident. Maybe she did still have the power to take flight with fangs and talons bared and ready to do battle against the demons that haunted her day in and day out.

Maybe -- A light flickered in the corner, catching her attention and she lifted her weary head from her knees to study it.

"What's that?" A familiar voice, a man, said nonchalantly.

"The past." She responded with a sigh, her head tilting as yet another ghost came into focus. First Andrea, now him. So life like as the light wrapped in on itself to bring him to reality. "What I was trying to show you last night. Or was it the night before? I can't tell anymore."

The image of Landon was there, but also not. He skipped from view, then just outside it, teetering at the cusp of her vision. His voice rang clear however, just like he was really there. "Does it matter, Rochelle? Why'd you run off? I bet I'm worried." Neyes appeared across from her outside her little 'cage'. Sitting across from her he poked at the edges, looking inside like a child.

The redhead blinked, trying to focus in on him, his voice, the image of him. "No... It doesn't..." She practically whispered with a shake of her head. Getting to her feet she limped towards the specter, comforted by the sound of his voice - the strength of it as it boomed and reverberated against the stone and her body. "I didn't run off." She answered strongly, stopping her approach. "They took me, Landon, when I tried to go back to my run about. You probably don't even know I'm gone yet." The little redheaded captive huffed, folding her arms around her thin pajama clad torso, feeling her ribs expand and contract quicker as her heart began to race and her head tilted to one side. "I would never leave you willingly."

And then she caught herself, shook her head and reached to brush her hair from her face "The Vindicator, that is." Even to his false image, the hallucination her mind drummed up out of despair and need, she couldn't be straight with him. Instead she watched the flickering apparition, chewing her lower lip. She wanted to touch him. To blink and disappear with him.

"But you were going to run off weren't you." Landon's disembodied voice posed it more as a statement than a question. "You always do, don't you?"

"No!" She admonished, painfully crossing the rest of the distance between her and the vision, her head shaking. "Distanced myself emotionally from you, maybe, but I wouldn't have run off physically!" And then she stopped, realizing what she'd all but admitted, the faux pas causing cold fear to rip through her belly. "Vindicator has my loyalty. You have my loyalty. You know that."

Landon looked at her coyly, "Careful, they might hear you shouting." Suddenly standing at the far end of the room, he all but disappeared into the shadows of the cave. "How will you get out of this if I don't find you? Do you really need me to come rescue you? I thought you were a little more resourceful than that." He waved a hand in the air flippantly, "Seducing me emotionally, getting yourself captured. What's next?"

"And what if they do?" She stubbornly questioned, confused at his disappearance and then sudden re-flare. She sighed heavily, watching him. He wasn't real. It wasn't him. The mantra played over and over in her weary brain. He angered her, set her nerves aflame with his accusations and flippant remarks. The redhead's ire boiled. "I did no such thing, Captain. You..." She paused and dug through her thoughts to find something hurtful. Anything. "You're the one who sent me away! I was just going back to that damned run about for the night!" That wasn't fair. It wasn't right. The memories burned and seared through her senses one by one rekindled by the emotions they brought about.

Heat. She felt heat in the pit of her belly where fear had once been. Heat at the thought of his touch, their near miss. "I can get out of this. I'll come back, make it right." She vowed, tucking tangled hair back behind her ears just as soon as it escaped. She knew this wasn't her fault, or his. The stars had aligned, a cosmic shift of force and fate had driven them to this point. "Besides... It's against protocol for you to come for me." She all but sighed, wandering towards the nearest wall to lean her side against it. "You're so by the book, you probably sent the Marines or something and they'll miss every single clue, if there even are any. And that's if you know that I'm gone." But the wheels in her head had started to turn.

Both Andrea and Landon had both spoken of her resources, the knowledge that had catapulted her to the very tip top of her class in the Academy. The same knowledge and cutthroat demeanor that had saved Andrea, Dani and Pond from a similar fate. "What if I succeed?" The pain and cold and embarrassment of fighting against coming clean even to the shadows all began to slowly fade away into what could only be described as slow, flickering limelight. A thought had sparked. "And what if I fail?" She asked -- her options needing to come to life.

He was getting fuzzy, the details of his silhouette choppy if she tried to see him directly. "If you succeed you still have to get back to camp. Do you know where that is? But, if you fail, I guess I'll have to go against everything I hold dear in order to come rescue you. And by 'ME', I mean the Marine or maybe some slap-happy security officers.

"So...," he trailed off, "Do we remember if the Noturans warned us about crazy cannibal hermits? Is that new? I guess you're going to need something to beat them over the head with. Oh! Maybe you can talk them out of dinner. IE, you."

Rochelle snorted disdainfully, shaking her head and moving to rest her back against the cold wet wall that held her. "Not what I meant. If I succeed in an escape, you're right. I'll have to find my way back to camp. But if I succeed in escape, doesn't it mean I die if they catch me?" She asked, "I'm starting to think this is a fail fail situation." She turned her head to look at him, trying to focus, but giving up at the shimmering sight of his handsome face. "Andrea always said I needed to learn diplomacy, not just stick to my guns to get out of things..."

And then she shivered. "They're crazy, but cannibals?" She asked, once more pushing herself away from the wall.

"Hey," he quipped, "these are all your brain-thoughts. I'm just along for the ride."

A merrily cynical snort followed, coming from the other side of the cavern.

Ivanova whirled around, startled, nearly losing her footing.

"Brain thought," Captain Levine chuckled through her best Professorial Persona expression. "To have brain thoughts, one must have a working brain. And this one," she smiled at Rochelle, "well, let's just say I wouldn't recommend taking one of my notorious midterms right this moment," she smirked in self satisfaction.

The redhead froze, ready, practically trembling in cold anticipation. And then that voice, those words. She snorted in disdainful objection. "I'd still pass."

"She used to be an A student, too," Andrea nodded at Landon, ignoring Rochelle's comment. "But today, well," she twisted her nose, "it's like she forgot to actually connect the thoughts. Like dots. Thought-dots," her smirk grew into a grin.

"Personally," she gave Rochelle a knowing look and crouched close to the floor, "I'd guess it's the food," Andrea sniffed at the bowl on the floor and her face lit with an exaggerated expression of delight. "Mm, mm. I bet it tastes like chicken."

"And now I champion the stars. I'm still smart." The tired, wide eyed woman retorted against her friend. It wasn't the Ivanova the stars were used to. Not the fighting heroine of the skies. "Not quite." She scoffed, "It's nothing like chicken."

"Smart, yes," the Professor-turned-Captain nodded and casually ran a finger inside the bowl, mixing the remains, "but wise? Eh," she shook her head to the sides in a gesture of uncertainty, and then put her stew-covered finger into her mouth. "Mm. No, not chicken," she smacked her lips, thinking, "pork? hm," she looked at Rochelle, "this could go great in the next Admiral's reception. You think I can get the recipe?"

"Go ask them yourself." Rochelle replied, forgetting that visitors weren't real as she watched Andrea's shenanigans and looked towards the flickering mirage that was Landon

Andrea grinned and looked at Landon. "See? What did I tell you?" she ran her finger in the bowl and licked it again, "no way she's acing my midterm today."

The redheaded Commander tugged on her tattered night clothes and folded her arms across her chest. A thin brow arched high over an eye, her left to be exact, as she looked between her two apparitions. "What the Hell do you want me to do? Lick it and tell you the Colonel's secret combination of seven herbs and spices? Come on now! Who cares what crap they're trying to shove down my throat. It's not important!" She all but bellowed.

Andrea shook her head with an exaggerated disappointed look. "If it's not important, why are you thinking about it, genius? Remember, we are not really here. We're manifestations of your inner-most thoughts and subconscious," She smirked, and her voice took on an exaggerated professorial mannerism.

"So, Captain Neyes here," she waved at him merrily, "hi! So he's what? Your feely-feelings? Your remorse? Guilt? Oh, yes. Your emotions, the kind that bubbles under the surface," she gestured with her fingers and winked. "What do you think that makes me?"

Rochelle opened her mouth in quick protest, but snapped it shut and shook her head. She wasn't ready to go there. Landon had already said something about cannibals. No. She wouldn't go there at all. Not now. Not ever. Not when these people derived from human settlers.

Andrea spoke again, grabbing at her attention and refusing to let go. She asked about the handsome Trill, causing her eyes to avert back to his shimmering form in the cold. "He is what he is." She whispered. So much, she failed to add. Landon was her forgotten hope.

"You?" She asked, turning her head back to her friend, "You're what you always are. Science. Logic. Education... Structure. That's what you are."

Andrea's smile expanded and her eyebrows lifted. "Am I?" She crouched again and looked at the remnants of stew. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just hungry," she flicked her finger across the grimy bowl again and sniffed at it, "what is that flavor?" she licked it, smacking her lips again, "it's so.. gamey."

"No." Rochelle shook her head, begrudgingly limping away from the eerie comfort of Landon's image and towards Andrea's persistent whining. "You're not hungry. In fact, you're suspicious of the food, not impressed with the flavor, and wondering why they're holding you like this. It doesn't make sense that they haven't laid their demands out for you which means... It's personal? No." She paused, a foot away from the taller blonde Commodore. "It's not personal against me. It's personal for them. It's... FUCK! Think!" She yelled as if that would clear the invasive fog from her whirling mind.

"Gosh they look awfully familiar... How many bipedal species are on this planet again?" Neyes drolled.

Rochelle's head snapped around to give her an eyeful of Neyes. So calm. So collected. So him as he left his well placed jab against her tired mind. "They're Noturans..." She sighed with a nod. "But they're here... In these tunnels. Living." Now she looked to Andrea, her brows furrowed as she started to filter and sift through the fragile puzzle pieces as they revealed themselves to her one by precious one. "Noturan outcasts... Political? No... They'd have simply killed outcasts. This society is so... So..." She snapped her fingers searching for the right word, "Medieval."

"Crazy." Andrea chimed in at the exact same time, and then shrugged with a smile, twirling her palm in a "go on" gesture.

Rochelle shrugged. To each their own, and yes... Yes they were crazy. "So... It's something I -- we... We have." She continued, turning a circle and teetering sideways against a wall, scraping her shoulder through her night shirt. "But what do we have? Dental care?" the redhead snickered lightly at her own stupidity, "Technology... We have technology." She looked up towards Andrea and Landon expectant of their approval.

"Ah," Andrea nodded severely, "technology. Yes, it's wonderful, isn't it?" she continued with a voice that implied the opposite, giving Rochelle a blank stare for a moment.

"But, well, do you think they know how wonderful it is?" the older woman's voice suddenly changed to a hush and she nodded casually at the door.

The redhead sniffed indignantly, shaking her head "Obviously." She replied, quickly cut off by the savagery of the door being thrown open.

In fact, the door wasn't just thrown open - it exploded inwards, allowing a gust of warm wind to fill the stuffy cave room. Loose strands flew gently around Andrea's face as she looked up at the door as the boss entered, his dirty coat caked with melting snow.

"Wake up, top dweller. We speak now."

"Ooh," Andrea chimed in, leaning back against the cave wall with amused interest. "Maybe you should ask him for a refill."

Landon's ghost shot the woman a sharp look.

Rochelle was thrown off her feet by the combination of her surprise, her attempt to wheel away from the oncoming man, and whatever still messed with her head. Her eyes, squinting in the sudden light, darted from the man to Landon and then to Andrea and back, "About what?" she rasped.

"Your ship," the man answered abruptly and gestured at the door; a man peeked in and closed it, much more gently than it was opened.

A snort rolled from the backgroung. "My ship, he means." Neyes scoffed.

The man walked to the corner and sat on a boulder, glancing at the remnants of the food and gestured at another smaller rock shelf next to Rochelle. "Sit. We speak, then you can eat again, and drink."

"Refill," Andrea nodded sagely, giving Rochelle a "told ya" shrug.

Suspicious, Rochelle pulled herself up off the cold, hard floor and rested her back against the wall again for stability "I'll stand. I'm not hungry." She replied, her eyes flickering to Andrea, knowing she was right on the money trail concerning the technology. There was, however, something about the food. A message there -- the redheaded Commander was still trying to follow, trying to dig through the foggy catacombs of her mind to figure out that last piece of the puzzle.

"What do you want with the ship? It isn't mine." Honesty was always the best policy.

"Oooh, good one," Andrea smirked, "deny ownership! that might work."

But the man shrugged but kept his gaze steady on her. "That ship's crew disagrees with you. Your stupid space dweller friends thought we can be underestimated. They learned how bad that idea was." His voice remained calm, but his gaze intensified with anger.

"You are not here to be dead, or you would be already" he gestured with shaky hands, trying mightily to settle his anger from growing into rage. "But we are not the stupid animals our government says we are," he took a breath, and near him, Andrea leaned forward and watched him in mock interest.

Rochelle blinked in response, stoic and poised at the edge of the rocks she sat on. In the corner of her eye she could just barely make out Landon's flickering form. He was coming, or had been. Please, dear God, if there even is a God, don't be dead. "I don't know what you're talking about. I belong to the ship, not the other way around." She shrugged, offering an expression that simply read of her apologies.

"If I'm not get to be dead, then why am I here? Certainly you can find better looking, easier trained pets." Her injured throat burned as she forced herself to speak. This much control, this much of a grasp on her own psyche, hurt. Damn the drugs. The pain. Damn them. She looked again to Andrea.

Andrea shrugged and twirled a finger at her temple, poking her tongue out and crossing her eyes.

"You are here so our government cannot ignore us anymore. You are here so they understand. So you see what we are," he gestured, as if that made all the sense in the world. "So you stop it."

"How?" Rochelle asked, shooting a pointed look towards Andrea. At least Landon was behaving himself, making it easier on her to communicate and try and work given her hazy state of affairs.

Neyes was right next to her now. "Just tell him what he wants to hear..." Concern crept into his voice. "Buy some time."

"Pff, forget time," Andrea bristled and pulled a bag of popcorn from thin air, plopping a few into her mouth, "ask him about his plan," she munched, twirling her finger in a "go on" gesture.

Rochelle swallowed hard at the worried sound of Landon’s voice creeping into her ears, especially when it coupled with Andrea’s malcontent as she spurred her psyche onwards, forwards, refusing to accept her hesitation.

"You and your stars fleet help our government, but our government lies to you, as they do to everyone else. Even our families," he paused for a split second, then looked at Rochelle square in the eyes with a gaze that was almost sane again. "We have families. Wives and children and brothers and sisters. Our government told them we are dead, and they believe, while we are here," he gestured, frustration creeping into his voice again, "we worked for them for years, and they abandoned us. And now you," he pointed at her accusingly, "you come here, and play their game."

“Hardly.” She replied, nearly scoffing at the thought, “Your government asked to join us and we simply were ordered to come here to check out the planet and an energy source they claimed they have. So far we’ve been attacked by wild animals and told our women are inferior beings. Hardly reason for us to play their so called game.” Rochelle postured, rolling her wrist flippantly, “kidnapping me wasn’t the way to earn respect or help, sir, it’s a good way to earn a war your people can’t fight.” She leveled with him, the haze disappearing momentarily as ice cold, savage eyes locked with the crazy voids of her captor.

Rochelle was a fearless creature, staring down death was nothing new for her – In fact she often dabbled in it like a bird in a puddle after a storm, flitting about happy as can be. “Return me to the crew, let me inform them of what’s going on so that we can better make a difference by confronting your government. That’s the only way this is going to end well.” At another point, in another life, she’d have felt sorry for them. But here and now, cold and confused, Rochelle was eager to head home and be allowed to gather her thoughts before proceeding.

"Energy source!" He boomed, angry, "We are the energy source! We," he gestured around angrily, "we are the damned energy source. We've mined it for years, obediently, while our government knew what it would do to us." He shook his head, "what it would turn us into. They didn't care. When we get sick, they abandon us, leaving us behind to fend to ourselves, to abandon our families, to eat one another, all the while they deny us the cure!"

The Commander stiffened at the sound of his booming voice and quickly sidestepped to a location better suited for countering combat if she needed to. The rocks behind her, the loose shale ledge she’d sat on, all made her nervous. She’d been cut and injured enough, and now on depleted energy reserves she knew she’d have to be smart and quick should something happen, if she were to overpower him. “I get you are the source of the mined energy. I understand, but housing me here and…” She paused, eat themselves?

Rochelle’s eyes flashed in warning and surprise as she immediately shot glances both to Andrea and Landon. Horror crossed her pretty features, draining whatever color was left from her face, “Wait… What did you say? Eat one another?” She asked, her head tilting and eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she demanded answer.

"Now we're getting somewhere!" Andrea hooted and tossed imaginary popcorn at the big man. One piece landed on his head, teetered momentarily, fell and got stuck in his beard.

"They made us sick," he nodded, oblivious to the imaginary white piece stuck to his dirty beard, flickers of shame filling his eyes. "We have no choice, it's what they made us." He gestured at the bowl on the floor, as if it was an obvious answer, "it's what they made you."

Sick.


The words echoed in her mind as she continued to blanch and desperate look between Landon and Andrea. Her stomach churned, her knees began to shake and her mouth suddenly filled with saliva. Rochelle was going to puke. The bowl caught her attentioned as he gestured to it, and staring at it, "I... You..." she finally lost her composure. Her knees hit the rocks as she doubled over, scraping them and promising bruises to the already damaged bursa laying just beneath the surface of the skin. But that was the least of her concern. She vomited, tears filling her eyes out of shame, disgust and effort as she did so.

"You fed me people?" She gagged and gasped, heaving oxygen into her lungs as she stared up at the miner with hurt and horror, anger and anguish filling her turbulent eyes.

The man huffed, "we made sure the food you ate was untouched by the disease, we gave you only the healthy! you were supposed to help us," he finished, almost accusingly.

"You fed me people?!" She roared, pushing herself up from the floor to stand tall - tall was a relative term. "And expected us to help?! You're NUTS!"

"And the plot unfolds!" Andrea cheered sarcastically from her place on the ground, popcorn flying around like confetti. "Did you see it coming?"

He got up to face her, his bulky shape towering over her, his eyes angry. "I fed you nothing. You ate because you had to, to survive," he growled. "Just like we eat because we have to. This is not our doing, this is their doing," he pointed towards an abstract point at the far wall.

Rochelle's lip curled as she set her wait going toe to toe, nose to nose. His breath was hot, rancid from lack of dental care and his eyes were wild with the insanity that plagued him. "You gave me people to eat. Don't play the semantics game with me. It won't end well for you." Her voice rolled low, unafraid. "I've seen the animals that roam these woods, you made a choice. You could have lay siege to the city, come talked to us in our camp. You had options. Now? Your only hope is to let me go."

"Careful," Andrea whispered, lifting herself up from the floor to stand near her friend, whispering in near her ear. "Careful."

"It won't end well for us either way," he spat, "we are all doomed, crazed from what they did to us. Our hope is gone -- it is our families we need you for. The ones that are going to follow in our steps. We need you to get them to give you the cure!" he boomed.

A dainty, dirty, blood crusted finger wiped away a droplet of spittle where it had landed on her cheek. "Temper, Temper. You're foaming and I'm fresh out of tissues." Rochelle shot back, not daring to break eye contact with her captor to acknowledge Andrea or Landon.

"You captured me, turned me into a cannibal... and I'm supposed to give you a cure for your insanity? That's not how this works." The fiery one snorted disdainfully, "Even if I wanted to, I can't do anything from here. You're shit out of luck, buddy."

"Then I guess we have no more use of you." He growled in rage and moved forward, grabbing for Rochelle's neck.

"Ohh," Andrea muttered, taking a step back, "ohh you really did it now."

The little Commander saw his hand coming up, saw the way his body lurched forward and she was quick to react. "On the contrary," she strained, "It's I who have no further use for you." This time, instead of grabbing a fist full of her throat, he obtained a chest full of her shoulder. Rochelle drove forward throwing her weight at him and using her feet to help trip him up. Her outside hand flew high towards his face and her heart immediately set to flight as she grunted with the effort.

He twisted away from her attack, but it was too late; her attack surprised him into confusion, and as his legs tripped from under him his priorities shifted from attack -- to defense. He landed hard on his back, his arms flailing, his head slamming against the floor, making his vision swim. He thrashed with his legs, trying to throw the smaller woman off to the side, hoping his stupid guards will hear the commotion and be ready.

With a cat like leap to the left, Rochelle was able to avoid the majority of his thrashing and flailing. She panted, watching him on the floor and threw another well-aimed kick to in the direction of of his abdomen. The sound of his henchmen yelling as they approached in the hall left her scrambling back to the shadows, back to searching for an out.

... And finding it.

Somewhere behind her, the figment of Andrea jumped in place, mock punching. "Yeah, that's it! K-K-K-KO!"

With seconds to act she was quick to grab the loose, sharp slab of broken slate and looked towards Andrea and Landon with the promise of freedom shining wildly in her eyes. "Forgive me." She whispered and sent a foot sailing towards the downed man's rib cage, not daring to give him a chance to recover. Not yet. He'd live to lick his wounds and remember, woefully, his mistakes -- for now Ivanova turned to flee.

The door flung open and the redhead swung the slab towards the first head that appeared, a yell coming from her snarled lips as she put everything she had behind that fateful swing.

The big man on the floor grunted, sucking air painfully; his attempts to call for help only produced soft watery whines.

Andrea recoiled as a filthy bearded brute collapsed like a ragdoll and fell through her to the floor. "Eugh," she managed, her image beginning to fade. "You go, Commander boom," she smiled. "Do your thing now."

---

Commander Rochelle Ivanova
Executive Officer
USS VINDICATOR

Apparition of: Commodore Andrea Levine (apb Moo)
Starfleet Academy professor
Former CO; USS GRIFFIN

Apparition of: Captain Landon Neyes (apb Landon)
Commanding Officer
USS VINDICATOR

Noturan Captor (apb Moo)

 

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