Joint Log || Cpt Ivanova & LtCmdr Dahe'el || CO & CEO || "Waltzing through the pain..."

Posted on Wed Aug 13th, 2014 @ 3:59pm by Admiral Rochelle Ivanova

3,007 words; about a 15 minute read

Mission: In the Dark

=/\= Awards Hall, Old New York Holodeck Program, USS Vindicator =/\=

Alone...

It was often hard to feel alone during an awards ceremony and the following celebrations, yet all 6 foot 1 of the Cardassian Engineer truly felt alone, he was stood off to one side after having been awarded, the applause as he had moved up to the front had died off to nothing but half-heard whispers, for everything he had done to safeguard the ship and its crew, he still was not trusted among people he considered his own.

Having parted ways from Admiral Malone, Rochelle was swarmed by activity. People, her crew, came to her and congratulated her. Many of them smiled to her face, but whispered their gossip about what had transpired on Notura. She was still so frail, so delicate, so small and seemed even more so as she drifted across the ballroom out of uniform. The joke was that it made her appear six feet tall the way she carried herself, but there in that black gown, she was simply the elegant woman, not the Captain.

Amelia was off to the fore-front, beautiful as always, though inaccessible in her circles as she spoke and enjoyed the festivities near the band, leaving Rochelle to fend for herself -- until she saw him standing there.

Alone...

So many had discounted him, cut him down, left him barren of affection -- even she, at one point, had been determined to hate him simply because he was a Cardassian. That mission had failed. She was unafraid of him, of their closeness. In fact, she reveled in it. Excusing herself from yet another congratulatory handshake, she crossed the dance floor, headed in his direction like a moth to flame. "Commander." She said, greeting him with a smile, genuine in nature, and a nod.

Like a signal in the dark, her smile lit up the Cardassian's soul and suddenly he was no longer alone, the one person he'd striven to save, the one person who brought him into their life and opened to him, he gave her a curt nod and a smile spread across his face, "Congratulations are in order, Captain."

"Thank you," She responded in her usual polite fashion, "it's still a shame how it came about." The personal touch, she chose to share with him, to stand on his level rather than close herself off and look down upon him from some high pedestal that so many had placed her on. "Admiral Malone is quite impressed with the Vindicator. Particularly with Engineering." Small talk, so awkward given their positions and how close they were in proximity to other people. The comfort he offered, the security, it reached to soothe her fragile psyche and slowly began to give her strength as she pointedly ignored the eyes that passed their way. They'd have blanched to know that she'd taken comfort in his arms.

"They put me in command of the Vindicator to bring her to her new Captain, I was the engineer in charge of the final phases of construction, I know what our ship can do." Almar replied with a slight bow of the head, his words were intentional and carried a deep meaning, half intended for Rochelle, half for the people listening on the fringes of their conversation, "She's strong, I'll pull her through anything," he added, a double meaning to his words this time.

"She is," Her words were soft, "But she's only as strong as those who serve her. They need to keep their eyes and hearts open in order for her to accomplish the things she does." The Captain mused, folding her hands in front of her. It seemed strange to talk with double intent, words that made her heart ache and swell all at the same time. To the outside world, this was a Captain conversing with a proud Engineer in a barren fashion -- to her, she was playing a game and eluding capture. Her brow furrowed then, the realization that she was feeding their fire dawned on her and she was quick to search the Cardassian's face. Even then he was protecting her, trying to save face for their closeness. "But, fortune always does favor the bold."

"I did what I needed to do," the Cardassian replied with another curt nod, "The needs of the many is a very admirable view on life, however sometimes the needs of one are just as important, Vulcans always seem to ignore this fact when they quote at us,"

Rochelle shook her head, "I stopped listening to Vulcan logic long ago." She said, "They don't account for matters where the heart needs to speak." The woman shrugged in emphasis of her point and took another step forward, closing the gap between them, killing the sterility of their conversation with one fell swoop.

Instinctively, Almar reached out and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, concern lacing his eyes as he knew the condition she had been in when they had beamed her back onto the ship, "How are you feeling Rochelle?"

"I'm living." She replied, reaching to rest a hand over his, "I'm tired, but I'm living." The woman's voice was low, nearly a whisper as she spoke and allowed the elegance to slip in favor of honesty. The feel of his hand against the bare skin of her shoulder rekindled her senses, reminding her that she was still very much alive and very much human even when laced into a gown and put on display for the sake of the crew's morale.

"Don't push yourself," the Cardassian replied as he glanced over her shoulder and shot a look to a crewman who had been caught staring in their direction, "You need to pace yourself, the last thing you need is another trip to sickbay."

Rochelle shook her head, "I don't have a choice," she tried a smile, tilting her head as she looked up at him, "I'll be ok. Fit as a fiddle. I promise." The hand that covered his left only to let a finger touch his chin, re-directing his attention away from the crewman and back to her, "They're not worth it. It's their loss in the end, Almar."

"You do have a choice Rochelle, we're relatively safe here, I'm sure... that the ship could do with a good going over while we have access to the docking facilities," Almar replied, the smile broadening at the touch of her finger on his chin, "The crew are no doubt tired and need to spend some time getting their minds straight, this is all big news."

"I have plans of staying here for a few days more, the ship needs to get herself together and we all need to do the same, but that's not to say that I can afford a day off. My work day never ends." She was about to say something about how she owed it to the Vindicator after pushing her through Hell and back, inadvertently ripping Landon from her grip and leaving her all but broken. Her tongue, however, betrayed her, not allowing her to say such things in front of him as if knowing the retribution it bring about.

The Cardassian could sense that there was something unsaid and responded by pulling the redhead into his arms and wrapping them around her firmly, completely forgetting the room around them and drawing more attention than one would merit such an action, "Let me deal with the Vindicator, I'll have her back up and in fine shape in no time, you focus on yourself." he whispered softly.

Being held, or rather the act of being acquired in such an embrace, stole Rochelle's breath from her. The safety found in his hold allowed her to drop the pretenses, to succumb to the fact that she was still a mortal creature and not the work driven robot she'd been trying so desperately to become.

"Whether I say yes or not you're going to do it anyway." Said Rochelle, allowing her hands to take up their customary position on his chest and resting her cheek on them to avoid soiling his dress whites with makeup. "What would you have me do? Sleep?" She asked, ignoring the pointed looks of worry and panic as she settled in his arms quite comfortably.

"I would have you spend time being yourself and not just Comma... Captain Ivanova," Almar replied as he regulated his breathing and slowed it to a calming rhythm, "To get back to your best, you need to be Rochelle again and you can't do that if you insist on forcing yourself back on duty."

A sigh escaped her as she listened to him, "But this is what I've done for so many years. I don't know anything else." Honesty sometimes hurt, and the truth about her life and lack of hobbies away from the pips she wore cut at her. It had been a long time since she'd had room in her life for anything aside from the oath she'd taken to uphold, ever less since she arrived on the Vindicator and stood as their fearless little Executive Officer. Rochelle had grown in so many ways, but remained stunted in others -- and she knew it.

"Dance with me?" She asked, well aware of the spectacle they'd become for prying eyes. Her skin crawled under their judgmental gazes. It was easy to see what they thought and whispered among themselves; how dare he hold her, how could she allow him? The story of how she'd been brought back aboard the ship, dead, in Landon Neyes' arms had circulated. To them, she belonged to him and a relationship, even a friendship, with 'Cardassian traitor' was strictly prohibited. She didn't care, it was simply easier on her to give them a moving target.

"I thought you would never ask," Almar replied as he released her and took her hand in his, leading her towards the dance floor.

This time her smile was genuine as he lead her to the floor, her hand so tiny and precious as it was held by his. The dim lights played off her hair, toying with it's rich coloring even when it was folded up in a twist as it were and ran to dabble and shine along the Cardassian's pips and medals, even bringing a certain quality of depth to the darkness of his eyes and pewter of his skin. As always, they were a study of opposites; Almar all things masculine with his height and his brawn, Rochelle the picture of femininity so petite and soft. He could break her, with ease, bit instead held her so carefully and she, in turn, lay her faith in him. "Is this part of what you meant," She said, turning to face him and rest her other hand on his chest, "when you said I needed to take time and find myself?"

"Partly," Almar replied as he began to relax into the music and began letting it take their movements, "I'm sure there will be other things that will help you find yourself."

"What makes you so sure, I'm lost? Have you ever considered I may be happy with life the way it is?" Letting him lead and passing control seemed a frightening thing for her to do. Even with Malone, Rochelle hadn't relinquished full control on the dance floor. The Cardassian, however, easily set their pace.

"Because everyone needs something more than just the duty we swear to do, when we let it consume us, we start to lose part of what makes us truly decent," the Cardassian replied as they dances, the eyes still watching them but beginning to fade into the background, to them, the dance floor may as well have been empty, "Everyone needs a little something special."

"What if servitude is that little something special?" She asked, allowing her fingers to travel to his neck, idly toying with the shine of his pips as they moved in synchronicity.

"I've seen what devoting your life to Starfleet can do to a person," the Cardassian replied with a slight smile as he felt her hand on his neck, it sent a shiver up his ridges and down his back, "There must always be something else, a balance."

Her head shook, chasing a loose feather of hair from her eyes as it did, "We're all irreversibly screwed up." Rochelle chuckled low and bitter at the sentiment, her eyes left where her fingers played and found his. "The truth of it all, Almar, is that this ship, this service... It's all I have. The pretty waltzes, the smiles, the gowns and champagne and dress uniforms... It's all just a facade and an illusion of magic created to gloss over the fact that at the end of the day there's nothing more waiting for us. There's never an absolution."

"I wouldn't say nothing," the Cardassian replied, his deep eyes meeting hers and brightening slightly as they moved through the dance floor, oblivious to the whispers going on around them.

A lopsided, sad little smile was all she could offer him as she gathered her thoughts and her guile, "I don't want to feel anymore." She stated, her voice barely above a whisper itself. In that moment she didn't care about the rumor mill or politics, she only cared about the freedom she'd had ripped from her tattered fingertips on the frozen planet they'd left behind. "When I allow myself to feel, people are hurt and the ship is in peril and they must come first." The knot in her throat threatened to choke her as her fingers gripped his hand more tightly. "As it is..." She swallowed, looking away, "I can't sleep at night."

"Then that is where we start Rochelle, we get you to sleep," the Cardassian replied softly as he pulled her a little closer in their dance, "You say that you don't want to feel because people get hurt, but I don't think that is true. The crew will react to you better if they see you as a person as well as their Captain, they just see me as the Cardassian, even now, dancing with their Captain, they do not trust me."

Her head shook, "Sleep isn't that easy. I've tried. There's always something waiting to greet me, some horror or another." Allowing herself to be manipulated closer, Rochelle fought the urge to burrow against his chest, to hide away from the world for as long as it took to forget the hurt and the fear that came along with it. She'd always been a pillar of strength, indomitable -- and now she'd come to realize just how mortal she really was. Notura had been a wake up call in one sense and a death sentence against her psyche in another. Now began the waltz along the fine line between allowing it consume her or fighting to rise against the end it represented once again. "They know me as the bitch, they're afraid of crossing me but they still say 'oh poor Rochelle' when I'm not around to hear it. You?" She shrugged, "They're blinded by the fact you're a Cardassian. They don't trust your people, and frankly they have no reason to. But I pity their stupidity in not opening their hearts to you like I have. It's their loss, Almar, for stock piling you in with stereotypes and ridiculousness. I firmly believe that tide is turning in your favor, though."

"Well, there must be a way to chase away the horrors of your dreams" the Cardassian replied with a slight smile.

"If there is, you'll have to tell me." Rochelle scoffed lightly, reaching up to chase away the same offending feather of hair as it swept across her eyes again. "Even extreme exhaustion doesn't do it, or sleeping with the lights on." She added, almost sheepishly, as her hand once more found his chest.

"Maybe you need a bit of company, a presence in the room who makes you feel secure," Almar replied quickly.

The Captain stiffened slightly, the hand on his chest bracing as she remembered the Admiral's overture earlier in the evening. Almar Dahe`el wasn't the spinster, she reminded herself as she looked up at him, studied him, considered him. She'd spent nights with him merely a curtain away on Notura, keeping watch over him to be sure he was warm enough and didn't freeze to death in his sleep. "Maybe, I haven't tried that." She finally responded, the tension releasing her as their second song began to wind down.

"Then I have a suggestion," the Cardassian replied softly, "You stood watch over me on that godforsaken ball of ice, I offer to do the same for you, perhaps my presence will enable you to find some form of sleep."

Long before she could voice it, her head nodded yes to the hope of sleep and the comfort of having someone there to chase away whatever monster lurked to spoil her dreams. "Please." She said, watching their reflection in the darkened windows as they passed.

"Then when you are ready, or you feel the time is right to leave the crew to finish their celebrations, we will retire so you can sleep," Almar replied with a slight bow of his head as their dance slowed to a stop gradually as the song came to an end.

"I will." She nodded, bowing her head in turn to him and taking a step away from her dance partner, once again feeling the cool air rush in to replace the warmth of his touch as they separated. "I won't wander too far." Rochelle offered a small smile and, with hesitation, withdrew her hand from his. So many eyes watched their parting, waiting, wanting whatever piece of information they could discern. All she left them with was the chaste parting of a Captain from one of her most trusted.

---

Captain Rochelle Ivanova
Commanding Officer
USS Vindicator

Lieutenant Commander Almar Dahe'el
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Vindicator

 

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