Backlog - Capt Landon Neyes, Cmdr Rochelle Ivanova, LtCmdr Almar Dahe`el, Lt Amelia Waterhouse, TSC Crew - "Palette of Regret"

Posted on Sun Aug 3rd, 2014 @ 8:38pm by Captain Landon Neyes & Admiral Rochelle Ivanova & Commander Amelia Waterhouse
Edited on on Tue Aug 5th, 2014 @ 5:21am

3,110 words; about a 16 minute read

Mission: In the Dark
Location: USS Vindicator

Landon's still form rested in solitude in one of the ICU units in sickbay. Dimly lit walls cast a warm glow on his face, and his hands settled on either side of him. Could anyone have seen beneath the blanket keeping his body warm, they would see bruises, scrapes and wounds. All but patched together, Landon was as silent as the night which took him.

Only the sounds of his shallow breaths.

The small Trill ship dropped out of warp just inside visual range of the Vindicator. As a species, the Trill were humble and welcoming given their history for reticence and privacy. Surprising considering their gifted science ability and advanced specialized technologies. They possessed warp drive long before humans joined interstellar culture, and their ships were light, sleek and fast. Silver curves danced across the hull of the Symbiosis Commission's vessel as she slowly, but purposefully, approached the Vindicator. Several smaller ships guided her in, fighters, which moved swiftly to secure her approach.

"It's time ma'am." Cecil DuPont's voice was soft through the darkness, catching the shells of the black clad Commander's ears as she stood leaning against a doorway.

Shaking her security tail had been entirely way too difficult, but it was as if they knew what she had set out to do was sacred. She nodded, her head dipping slightly to allow one glassy blue eye to peer over her shoulder at the yeoman, "Thank you. Tell Commander Dahe`el and Lieutenant Pond I'm ready when they are." she replied, barely above a whisper before turning back to watch him, leaving the yeoman to do nothing more but leave the woman in peace. Peace, however, was such a relative term. Inside the woman's heart threatened to tear in two with each second that passed in silence. Landon had never regained consciousness. If she chose to be honest with herself, she knew he wouldn't -- but that hadn't stopped her from hoping, from wishing on the stars they passed.

The hail from the Trill Symbiosis Commission had seen the great ship Vindicator drop from Warp and coast to a full stop, her impulse engines shot from her recent trip into Notura's atmosphere. It had been that moment that she knew the dream was over and reality had become the nightmare she dreaded waking to every morning. "To know you..." Wiping her eyes, Rochelle's voice broke the quietude of the ICU as she pushed away from the door way and slowly crossed the room, "was to love you, Landon." The sound of his breathing, the color in his handsome face all begged at her to have hope as she looked down upon him. "I'll never let them forget you." Her hand threatened to shake as she reached to smooth her fingers along his lower lip and battered cheek, bending to press her lips to his forehead. The sound of incoming footsteps forced her to straighten up and draw her hand back to her side. The Woman became the Commander, swallowing back the knot of her if only to protect him, to save his reputation, as she continued to study him. She wasn't ready, she'd never be ready, but once long ago she'd been told the easiest way to free yourself from the pain was just to rip the bandaid off quickly.

Rochelle, however, was having trouble lifting the edge.

A soft-faced young woman, accompanied by several aides, came through the doorway to Landon's room. Their uniforms were clean, neat and pressed white tunics. The signature Trill shoulder to shoulder neckline at the top, with a dark blue trim. The three men with her immediately began work on the instruments at Neyes' bio-bed, while she moved gracefully to Ivanova. With a gentle smile, appropriately considerate, she nodded her head down and to the side, "Commander Ivanova, I hope you are feeling well after your ordeal. I am so sorry for this unfortunate turn of events."

The redhead watched the scene unfold before her as if she were caught in a brutal dream. Each second ticked away in complete synchronicity with the beating of her fragile heart. Rochelle wanted to scream, her knees threatened to buckle beneath her -- and then a voice.

"Not as sorry as I am." She replied softly, catching herself and drawing a quick breath, "But every day brings me closer to being good as new." She lied through her teeth, offering the Trill woman a small smile in good faith, trying her damnedest to appear in control. Tugging the cowl neck of her sweater closer to her chin, it was brutally apparent the petite Commander was uncomfortable. The truth was that she wasn't alright or close to new. They'd healed her bruises and the worst of her cuts, even erased the scars between her shoulders she'd demanded the medics leave after the Whydah incident and the grievous scar that once was worn like a necklace as a reminder that she was still alive. They couldn't, however, heal the nasty blow she'd taken to her psyche.

She did this.

Landon Neyes lay there, all but dead, because of her. Because she'd dared to love him and dared to let him love her -- or was it because she'd refused to allow him in until it was too late? Either way... It ended the same.

More footsteps. She knew their cadence well. Amelia. Almar. Friends. Rochelle didn't look up, her eyes remained locked on the men working to take Landon. "He saved my life," She said to the Trill woman, "be good to him."

Knowingly, she nodded in response, "If you'd like me to walk you through our process, I'd be happy to, Commander."

One of the aides took a reading by pressing a small device to Landon's neck, then scanning his abdomen. The article in his hand chirped harshly, then fell silent. The other two were still working to ready Neyes for transport, disconnecting him and readying his person for transfer. They used a surprising amount of care with the Captain, as if handling a beloved family member. Careful not to jostle or bump him, every movement was considerate of his space as if he were awake and aware of them.

"How are his Isoboromine levels?" The female asked the aide.

He looked up from his device and seemed hesitant to answer. "We'll be ready for transport soon, ma'am."

Amelia strode into the room, taking in the scene quietly as she plucked her stetson from her head and tucked it under her arm. This was the closest she'd ever knowingly come to anyone involved with the symbiosis commission, and based upon her mother's stories, this was closer than she ever wanted to be. She was here for Rochelle, so she would behave. She moved to her friend's side, and stood there quietly.

Rochelle flinched at the sound of the aide's voice dodging the question, her eyes closed briefly as she settled herself, steel coated her resolve and set her jaw. Taking a pot shot at a Trill wouldn't help the situation, he wasn't her crew. But Amelia coming to stand at her side offered her a sense of security when she felt her world unraveling as it spun and she was finally able to form the words that were dancing sourly at the tip of her tongue, "Please." She finally said, nodding her head towards the Trill woman, "I'd like to know."

After stepping into the room, Almar had taken up a position over the other shoulder of Rochelle, he placed a caring hand on her shoulder and gripped it firmly, letting her know that he was there.

After a confirming nod from the woman, the aide brought the device over to her and she reviewed it. For a moment she had no reaction at all, seeming to casually read the information from Neyes' scan. For all her pleasantry and careful graces, she held herself with assured control, and with an almost overbearing sense of self. Telling of the Commission, for she was not used to explaining herself in detail, even if she freely offered to do so. Her brow furrowed as she read over a particular line in the readout, and she sighed.

Looking up from the screen of the tablet-like readout, she handed it back to the man. A thoughtful look of concern was drawn across her face as she looked back up at the Vindicator crew. Situations like these were touchy, to be sure, and she was only willing to divulge so much. Usually in cases like this care was given not to arouse uncertainty or worry, because even their great love and support would not end up swaying a decision regarding termination of a host to save the symbiont.

Most species failed to understand the importance of those decisions.

She placed her hands together, looking over to the Captain. "His Isoboromine levels are, as you may be aware, part of the balance between host and symbiont. If those fall below forty percent of normal, then we will need to take action to save the symbiont. Neyes' levels are currently fair, at 57%. I will be honest with you, it is rare for a host to recover from such a dip in Isoboromine, and anything past 65% is generally considered by the commission to be well beyond an acceptable risk to the symbiont."

As the Cardassian's hand soothed across her shoulder, the Commander's eyes closed against the sound of the Trill woman's words as if trying to shield her from their onslaught as they washed over her petite frame and invaded her mind. Each syllable fell like a hammer's blow, beating at her and threatening to break down the walls she'd been so carefully rebuilding -- with no real success -- since she'd returned from Notura. Hope lay there, waning and she was ultimately powerless to do anything to stop it from being crushed and extinguished. From the moment the aide refused to answer the question she knew the result wouldn't be pretty, and still she felt breathless for all the wrong reasons. Sick.

"But there's still a chance" She finally brought herself to say, lifting her chin in a display of defiance against the situation, "I may be completely wrong and without base here, but fifty-seven percent isn't all that far off the mark. You said it yourself that he's sitting at a fair level." Ever the warrior, she rose to the occasion to challenge the diction that was being thrown at her. Her eyes reopened, the cold of them bearing down on the softer Trill woman, demanding clarity. It didn't matter that she may be revealing more than what the Commission needed to know, in that moment a life hung precariously in the balance -- and she chose to cling to that thin, fraying thread with all she had.

The woman nodded. "Yes," she softly tracked her words, "Yes I did say that. I did not mean to mislead you. Truth be told this is not the first time we've had to bring Landon home for treatment. Neyes is an upstart, and a brazen creature with a flair for heroics. Landon is strong, and has been a fine example of an excellent host, one in a long line. We will do all we can for him, and he may pull through.

"I just wanted you to understand the situation his condition has brought him to." She added, some irritation glaring in her voice. "This is also a Starfleet Captain, mind you, and I have been informed an envoy from Starfleet Medical will be meeting us on our return to Trill to monitor his progress. I will request they keep you up to speed." She straightened up, recovering from her minor 'outburst'.

[tag whoever]

Amelia narrowed her eyes at the woman, she was starting to understand the venom her mother spit about these people. Sure, people who volunteered knew what they were getting into... But treating a person as little more than a support system for another just didn't feel right. She looked to Rochelle, feeling helpless to do anything for her friend. At least Starfleet medical was looking in, they'd try to pull on Landon's behalf, if they had the nerve.

Rochelle shook her head, her lips pulling tight in a sardonic sort of smile, "I know who and what he is and isn't. He may be yours from inception, but he chose to give himself for this ship. Don't forget that for a second." She snapped in response, the fire burning again with gusto as she rose to meet the Trill's outburst with a quick display of tenacity. She was ready to counter again, coming around for another go when the words were stilled on her tongue by the sound of the aide's voice.

"We're ready, ma'am. Commander." The aide addressed both the Trill woman and Rochelle.

Landon's darkened eyes contrasted against the otherwise peaceful image of his restful sleep, and was the only indicator of his weakened state. Many of his serious injuries were healed over, but few remained to tell the tale of the battle on Notura. Had they not known it was a coma, it would appear to just as normal as any other day for the young Captain.

Ready to take him, her mind clarified, casting away the strong hold and sending the fire back to ice as she watched. Rochelle was powerless to do anything, to stop it, to bring him back -- she had no more power in the given situation than she had when they raced across the snowfields of Notura in a desperate bid to escape. There would be no escaping this, the inevitable.

This would be the last time she ever saw Landon Neyes.

"Try not to worry. He's in good hands." The Trill woman said reassuringly, glossing over Ivanova and her emotional response. "Recovery team to transporter room. Five to beam up."

The image of Landon on the bed, asleep and at peace, shimmered for an instant in the purple haze of the Trill transporter. A silhouette of him lingered for a moment, like a ghost before them, dissipating into thin air. The friend, officer and Captain to the Vindicator, taken back to his people.

A moment later he was gone, the other Trill along with him.

It was all Amelia could do to not laugh at the idea that the former Captain was in good hands. Medically competent, sure, but their primary concern was always the symbiote. She didn't dare say these thoughts aloud though. She knew Rochelle was smart enough to know this, and even if she wasn't, what good would it be? Even if she was deaf, Amelia could hear her friend's heart breaking.

"Is there anything I can do? Tea?" They'd been drinking it a lot, and while they both said it could fix anything, it couldn't... Though it would help for a time.

Rochelle felt as if the air had been sucked from the room, leaving her standing there staring at the blank space where Landon had just been laying. She swallowed hard, her teeth captured her lower lip, nearly breaking the skin as she fought to keep from screaming, crying, fought against the uprising of emotions as the proverbial band-aid had been ripped away from her heart. She hadn't been given that final chance to say goodbye. Blinking, finally, she took a step back, bumping into Almar as she did. "No." She whispered, her head shaking. "There's nothing anyone can do."

Opening himself up, the Cardassian believed that they could both trust the intelligence officer and wrapped the redhead up in his arms, he turned her so that her face would bury into his chest and placed a gentle hand on her shoulders.

The Commander nearly startled at the action, expecting to be able to beat a hasty retreat to her quarters but finding the resistance of the Engineer forcing her to stay put. But he was there, warm, inviting, stabilizing as he held her fast. Any struggle she may have given, stilled as she tucked her nose under a crease of his uniform, closing her eyes and drawing quick, deep breaths in her attempt to settle herself against the pain that centered in her chest. "Why?" She asked them both in a small, muffled voice, resting her hands on either side of her face. She didn't care that Amelia saw her hiding from their world in Almar's arms, she didn't care what went through the minds of the nurses peeking in to see what the commotion was about. At that moment all she cared about was feeling of panic, loss, and heartache that refused to flee the scene. The heat and pin prick of tears only served to kick her further, reminding her that she was crumbling and would need to build higher walls around herself.

"There is never any true logic in the world, things happen and we struggle to comprehend why," the Cardassian replied quietly as he stood, firm as a rock and cradled her in his arms, "There is nothing that can be said that will heal the pain you feel."

As Almar gathered Rochelle into his arms, Amelia noticed the first nurse poking her nose in. She made a beeline for the door, laying a hand on Almar's shoulder for a fleeting moment as she passed. "I got the gossips, if you've got her?" she murmured quietly to him, then took up a post at the door to keep the snoopy nurses away.

The Cardassian replied simply with a quick nod as he held the redhead, her tears soaking into his jacket and her sobs muffled by his form.

Life was a precious thing, so delicate for all of it's strength and so easily snuffed out by the strangest and most mundane of things. This... This wasn't mundane. It wasn't as if the Captain had perished in a trip and fall -- he'd been extinguished trying to rescue a woman from the clutches of half frozen humanoids driven crazy by radiation and years of cannibalism. Rochelle knew this entirely way too well, the fact it was her fault. Voicing that knowledge wouldn't save her, it wouldn't quell the pain that threatened to consume her. All she could do was mourn, protected by the arms and hearts of her most trusted, while fearing they too would be failed by her.

=/\= END LOG =/\=

Captain Landon Neyes
Former Commanding Officer
USS VINDICATOR

Commander Rochelle Ivanova
Acting Commanding Officer
USS VINDICATOR

Lieutenant Commander Almar Dahe'el
Chief Engineering Officer
USS Vindicator

Lieutenant Amelia Waterhouse
Infiltration Specialist
USS Vindicator

Unnamed Mandates (apb Landon)
Trill Symbiosis Commission

 

RSS Feed