Joint Duty Log - Capt Ivanova, LtCmdr Waterhouse, Cmdr PontBrillant & Mikkal - "Before The Kiss, A Redcap"

Posted on Wed Aug 27th, 2014 @ 6:38pm by Admiral Rochelle Ivanova & Vlimar PontBrillant & Commander Amelia Waterhouse & Mikkal

5,274 words; about a 26 minute read

Mission: In the Dark
Location: USS Vindicator

As he approached the Shipyards, Mikkal looked around him in amazement. He did not have much contact with the rest of the Federation in his duties as Porter of the Royal House of Taggart of Yvelyn, so navigating his way to find Rochelle Ivanova, the heir to the Atlantean throne had been an issue. Locating a Federation ship when the request is coming from outside of the Federation had proved to be difficult and even with the efforts of the Ambassador, locating the Vindicator had been quite costly in resources for the Porter.

Approaching the Vindicator, Mikkal had been warned that Rochelle might not be as cooperative as he is used to. After all, a position as Queen is a great responsibility, but has significant advantages and pleasures... Mikkal opened the channel of his small shuttle to the Vindicator.

"USS Vindicator, Royal Shuttle of Atlantis Prime, permission to board."

-=- USS Vindicator -=-

Vlimar had been touring the various departments, doing a quality control of the communication systems, mostly. As the Chief of Operations, he was in charge of ensuring that all department were properly linked with the bridge and that various level of encryption were updated, to ensure proper functioning with their specific needs. At that time, Vlimar had been updating the main communication system in the bridge, a sensitive task that required a Bridge accredited officer to conduct. The Commander decided to accomplish the task himself, so he could witness first hand the modifications and improvement to the system.

As he typed on the panel, opening the link between the bridge and Engineering, he heard the open channel from Mikkal.

"This is the USS Vindicator, please send your identification," he stated, scanning the shuttle.

After a few seconds, information appeared on the panel in front of Vlimar. He slowly read it over and a look of surprise appeared in his face as he typed on the panel.

"Permission granted, Shuttle Bay 1. Wait my arrival prior to disembark," he stated.

Vlimar immediately turned and walked to the Turbolift.

-=- Atlantian Shuttle -=-

Mikkal slowly moved his shuttle towards the opening bay. The man felt an overwhelming sense of anticipation and nervousness regarding entering a massive warship far bigger than he was used to seeing back on Atlantis Prime. As his shuttle entered the bay, it immediately was seized by the automated guidance system of the ship and landed on an orange colored pad, obviously reserved for visitors.

The Atlantean man exited the shuttle and Vlimar met him with a smile and an armed security officer standing a ways off his flank, watching as the tall bronze skinned man approached.

"I am Commander PontBrillant. Welcome," he said to the tall man.

"Mikkal of the house Taggart of Yvelyn, of Atlantis Prime. I request to speak to Rochelle Ivanova," he stated, coldly.

Vlimar looked back at the security officer and shrugged. "We will simply scan your person for any weapons then lead you to her," he stated, as it was not his business to question an envoy authorized to see Rochelle, after all Vlimar avoided politics as much as he could and this day was to be no exception.

The security officer advanced and scanned the visitor. After a few seconds, he gave a nod to Vlimar.

"This way, please," said Vlimar, leading the Atlantean to the turbo lift.

---CAPTAIN'S READY ROOM---

With repairs nearly finished, Rochelle could almost sense the great ship's unrest — as if she were begging for a chance to be cut loose and allowed to stretch out full tilt on a new journey far far away from all things that had come to pass. Far far away from the hurt that had been mustered on Notura. However, she knew they couldn't go far in their upcoming shake down cruise. They'd need to stay close to port in case repaired systems chose to fail — and then there was the matter of their intel officer. He'd need to know where to find them and simply sending word of 'take the second star to the right, straight on til morning' wouldn't be sufficient.

Leaning back in her well worn chair, she all but sighed as she studied star charts and considerations for R'n'R — none seemed attractive. The Klingons weren't known for their warm sandy beaches and luxury resorts willing to take Starfleet credit.

Vlimar arrived in front of the Ready Room door with the distinguished visitor. He stopped in front of the door and looked back at the visitor.

"I will introduce you, but do not expect me to bridge any other gaps," he said to the Atlantean.

"Understood, ring the chime," replied the taller male, coldly, almost arrogantly.

Vlimar rang the chime and waited.

With a blink Rochelle quickly finished a sip of coffee and quickly eyed her schedule to see if there was a meeting she'd forgotten as she called "Enter." her brow furrowed her brow seeing a blank patch in her books, there wasn't one.

As the door opened, Vlimar smiled at the Captain. He stepped in the office, followed by the tall bronze male.

"Captain, may I introduce you to Mr. Mikkal of the Royal House of Taggart of Yvelyn, from Atlantis Prime. He requested a meeting through our ambassadorial channels," he said, providing as much information as possible and trying to avoid creating any doubt of Vlimar's passive intentions surrounding the situation

As Vlimar introduced the Porter, Mikkal engaged in a royal bow towards Rochelle, a bow that took a few seconds and seemed, from the outside view, as overly theatrical and exaggerated.

The Captain got to her feet, looking between the two men with interest and concern. It had been years since she'd seen an Atlantean, longer since she'd another member of the royal house that wasn't William. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She offered when Mikkal finally straightened himself up, slowly stepping out from behind her desk to approach them. "I assume there was reason why I wasn't given notice of your arrival?" She asked, looking between both the tall, bronze porter and her Chief of Operations.

"Madam, I am bringing news of great importance. Annelise Taggart lady of Yvelyn, Queen of Atlantis has passed. I am here to pass the crown of Atlantis on to you." he stated, coldly.

Vlimar, surprised, looked at the man, then back to Rochelle. Not his place to speak, he looked at Rochelle for her answer to that singular affirmation.

For a long minute there was stunned silence and a small redheaded woman frozen to the spot as she picked apart the sentence in her head over and over. William's mother had died. "She passed peacefully, I hope?" She asked gently. The woman had been cold, aloof and disproving of her son's romance with a human woman, more so when the union failed to produce an heir. Rochelle hadn't been inclined to become a mother at that point in her career and the over bearing nature of the woman had proved to be toxic. By Starfleet decree, she was divorced and free of the Taggarts. By Atlantean culture she was still bonded and the only female heir left of the royal line. Her fingers rubbed at the blue mark of bonding that lay on the inside of her wrist, proof she'd not taken another 'mate' since William Taggart — proof she was was still considered an Atlantean royal.

Vlimar's gaze caught her eye, and she could barely meet him. "I cannot be your Queen." She finally said, the spell broken, "I am the Captain of a starship. This is my home, my duty is to the people on board and Starfleet's prime directive."

The Atlantean man looked at Rochelle coldly, directly. Even though emotions were running heavily inside of him, he managed to keep a calm face. However his eyes revealed a significant dose of anger, perhaps even pain. He raised his right hand and pointed at Rochelle, "As per our traditions, you will be named queen here, today. Kneel, and accept your position with grace and honour as our people have accepted your kind within our Royal House," he demanded, while his boiling anger seem to be translating within his voice.

Vlimar took a step forward, approaching Rochelle and getting close enough to intervene if needed be. The situation was tense and Vlimar knew he needed to be extra careful when dealing with such emotional matters. He looked back at the little Captain, almost waiting for a cue.

"My kind?!" Rochelle all but roared, holding her hand up to halt the approaching Vlimar. Second to Almar, he was the ship's protector, a man who had come to her and told her as much concerning his loyalties — but she didn't need him tangling in the affairs of the elitist race. "I didn't ask for this, Mikkal. I can't and I won't. Besides, you know you need two witnesses. We only have one here." She stated, choosing on her own to stand closer to Vlimar, to draw from the strength and the wisdom he seemed to offer, looking to him as if for guidance in an area she simply had no standing. What Rochelle did know, however, was that Mikkal wouldn't rest and that the Atlanteans would be a consistent thorn in their side. She also knew that reaching out to Almar would only lead to further problems — The Cardassians had long since burnt their bridges with the Atlantean race.

The Atlantean smiled widely. "You will and you shall right now," he hissed even colder than before - if such thing was possible. The tall man looked at Vlimar, then back at Rochelle. "You have one witness there. And in such Diplomatic situation, as per your Starfleet protocols, the Executive Officer must be briefed by the diplomatic envoy on the situation at hand. Call your Second, immediately," he demanded. "A certain Waterhouse, I believe," he added with a smirk.

Vlimar looked at the man, knowing very well that in diplomatic situations as such, Rochelle was the sole representative of the Federation and Mikkal was the representative of the Atlanteans. He had no place to interject or to involve himself. He did, however, began to take more careful attention towards the visitor, preparing to physically interfere should the element of danger arise.

Mikkal smiled, noticing Vlimar's eyes shifting from Rochelle to him. "You cannot touch me, and you cannot refuse me. She will be crowned today even if I have to take her by force," he leered looking back to the redhead; "The only choice you have is either do it here, in the apparent security of your ship or to be brought back, by force if necessary, to Atlantis Prime. But you will be crowned today, that I promise you," he stated, almost menacing.

The Captain drew a heavy breath, her eyes closing as she considered her options and knew them to be the only choices she truly had available. Her fingers lifted to find the combadge at her chest, hesitating as she opened her eyes and looked to Vlimar's. The badge chirped the moment she touched it, waiting for her word. "Ivanova to Waterhouse," she began, "You're needed in the ready room immediately." And without warning, the channel closed, Rochelle's hand dropping back to her side. In Atlantean culture there was no such thing as abdication, a race of warriors they simply wouldn't allow for that brand of weakness. "I'm sorry you've been put in this position." She said softly to Vlimar, her attention turning to Mikkal. "Your time with the royal house ends the moment you place that crown on my head. Mark my words." The woman stated firmly, the bitter cold fathoms of her eyes locking on the tall Atlantean.

Mikkal smiled darkly. "I have heard this threat many times, madam. You will not end my services today," he replied.

Amelia had been taking a meal in the lounge, when Rochelle's voice had chirped out of her combadge. She wasn't on duty anymore today, and she didn't think there was anything she'd forgotten before she'd finished up... but she was certainly still getting used to her new position. The tone used sounded urgent enough that she probably didn't have time to go all the way down to deck eight and change into her uniform first. So up to the bridge and the ready room Amelia headed in her cut-off shorts, her stetson hat and boots, and her Aquaman makes me wet tshirt. She pressed the chime, flipped her twin braids over her shoulder, and pulled her hat off her head, tucking it under one arm.

"Enter." Rochelle called, looking up to find Amelia's eyes from where she stood close to Vlimar and nodded to Mikkal, motioning for Amelia to come take her place beside her. "You have her attention. Do what you must."

Vlimar eyed Amelia puzzled. "What's with that hat?" he asked, silently to her. Vlimar then returned his attention to Mikkal, almost ignoring Amelia.

Amelia had opened her mouth to answer the question, but when the operations officer turned his attention away quickly, and it became apparently why, Amelia had bit back her response.

Mikkal observed the other woman enter the room quietly. He pointed to the empty space next to Vlimar for her to reside him then waited for her to be there. "Now, kneel" he commanded, directing Rochelle down with his finger.

The petite one sighed and shook her head, "You said you had to debrief my Executive Officer on your diplomatic issues." She replied, failing to budge from her position between Amelia and Vlimar.

Mikkal shook his head. His emotions were running high, he wanted to rip off Rochelle's head rather to put a crown on it, but, as his duties, he managed to remain contained and calm. He looked at Amelia and raised an eyebrow. Unsure if the human female was costumed or if she was wearing some traditional attire, he observed her for a few seconds, studying her. Knowing it didn't really matter who entered the room, since he just needed a second witness, he stated to Amelia. "I am going to crown your Captain, now," before turning back to Rochelle, an exasperated look on his face. He then motioned Rochelle down, his eyes wide open with frustration, anger and impatience.

"Crown my Captain for what?" Amelia narrowed her eyes at this stranger who stood in Rochelle's ready room. She was trying to place the culture or the race of the man, he certain had some familiar aspects to him but she couldn't place it. She certainly could tell Rochelle wasn't happy with the situation, therefore Amelia wasn't either.

The bronzed skinned male looked at Amelia and shook his head in exasperation. "Queen Annelise is dead. As per the Royal blood line, the crown must go to the next available female on the house," he stated. He took a deep breath. "As per her marriage with William Taggart, the next and only female left on the direct line is Rochelle Andreevna Ivanova Taggart, wife of William Taggart, Prince of Atlantis," he sighed his words and turned his attention back on Rochelle.

"Shall we?" he asked, now pointing the ground in a most decisive matter. "Kneel now."

"He was a prince?" Amelia muttered softly, remembering the man on the USS Griffin. She looked to Rochelle with silent question; if she was seeking confirmation of the statement, asking if she should remove this man from the ready room, some combination of both, or something else, it wasn't clear.

"They don't believe in divorce. We're still considered bonded." The shorter of the two redheads sighed, casting her gaze away from Amelia's questioning eyes. "I'm left with no choice, am I?" She asked rhetorically, lifting her wrist to examine the blue mark to be found there.

Curse her for being too chaste for a fling. The moment at present wouldn't never have come to pass and the freedom Landon had given her would have been everlasting, if the snow had consumed them both in that final, horrible moment they'd spent together. Landon. She'd forgotten her little leather band with him the night before all Hell had broken loose though never told the full tale. He'd protected her from that too.

Carpe diem.

She drew a deep breath and stepped away from her team slowly finding herself sinking to her knees before the tall, arrogant bronze porter. It was an unnatural position for the fiery redhead to take, one of subservience, "As you will." She said, looking up at Mikkal.

The man slowly waited for Rochelle. "Stop whining already and remain silent." he scoffed. He then looked at Vlimar and Amelia and back at Rochelle seriously.

"Rochelle Andreevna Ivanova Taggart, wife of William of the House of Taggart of Yvelyn, heir to the throne of Atlantis Prime, will you promise and swear to govern the Peoples of Atlantis Prime, and of your present and future Possessions and other Territories to any of them belonging or pertaining, according to their respective laws and customs?" began the tall bronze male. He looked disgusted by the procedure.

"I swear it." Rochelle responded, her voice betraying her own emotions towards the whole ordeal and the customs associated with it.

As soon as Rochelle responded the man continued, almost cutting off her words. "Will you use your power in the cause of cause Law and Justice, with mercy to be executed in all your judgments?" he asked, coldly, his eyes fixated on the petite female.

She nodded, not daring to break eye contact with the bronze skinned bastard. "I will."

The porter added, coldly "Will you to the utmost of your power maintain the Laws of Gods? Will you maintain and preserve inviolable the settlement of the Atlantean faith, and the doctrine, worship, discipline, and government thereof, as by law established by the High Council of Atlantis Prime?"

"I will." The redhead said again, the discomfort growing with each passing moment.

From his position, the bronze skinned man reached inside a pouch, hanging from his belt. He unfasten the pouch and opened it. He took a step forward and put its content on Rochelle's head. The liquid, of a dark beige colour, dripped onto her head, temporarily changing Rochelle's hair colour on contact. "You are now united with your predecessor, the Queen. You are her, she is you. Do you promise to rule your people with humility and integrity, in the customs of our people?" asked the man, severely.

Part of the young Captain wanted to scream as the body heat warmed oily liquid seeped through her hair and into her scalp. She knew what it was, knew who it once belonged to. Like the Trill, the Atlanteans shared a perceived life force, but unlike the symbiont, the mixture of rendered fluids held no memories, no personality. "I do swear on my people to uphold their righteousness for as long as I still breathe."

The bronze man then turned towards the witnesses, standing on their side of the room. "Witnesses, do you swear that you have witnessed the unification of the Queens and perceive the Queens as one true ruler?" he asked, calmly, yet coldly.

Amelia sighed softly. Watching her friend put up with this, even as she clearly didn't want anything to do with. It told Amelia there was no reason to stir the shit, so the snark and back talk was swallowed.

"I swear that I, Amelia Waterhouse, have witnessed the unification of the Queens, and perceive the Queens as one true ruler," she said dutifully, feeling it safe to assume that nearly parroting the man's words should satisfy.

The male rolled his eyes and then looked at Vlimar. "And you?" he asked, life devoid from his words.

Vlimar nodded, looking at Rochelle as she knelt there at the porter's feet. He then looked back at the bronze male and replied, "I affirm that I have witnessed disrespectful, degrading acts done in the name of a Royal House that you poorly represent. I also swear that once we are done here, it will be my pleasure to escort you back off of this ship," he stated.

Amelia had to bite her lip, hard, to keep from smirking or laughing at Vlimar. It made her feel better some small protest had been lodged, even if Amelia's efforts to behave as an executive officer should prevented her from doing so. She stole a glance at Vlimar.

The bronze male smiled widely, obviously on the verge of laughing. "Oh, humans..." he said, while turning his attention back to Rochelle. "In front of the witnesses, you have claimed your oaths and promises as per our traditions," he stated. He slowly reached for a bag, hanging on the other side of his belt from the slime pouch, and removed a small headpiece similar to a tiara. "This is to confirm your position and your oaths," he said, while putting the tiara on Rochelle's head.

Suddenly, a wide, cold smile appeared on the face of the visitor as he moved his hands away from the tiara. He looked at Rochelle, his smile almost taunting, then, suddenly, cocked his right hand over his left shoulder and threw it towards Rochelle's face with as much velocity as he could muster, closing his fist as it reached her cheek. The blow was terrible, putting his full 7'2" height and weight onto the backhand which was closer to a back punch than a gentle tap. "This is so you do not forget them."

The little Captain bit the inside of her lip to keep from sighing as Vlimar's bravado was met with nothing more than disdain and venom — the common denominator after broke away from William. It was their cold nature, as cold as the glittering white stones that adorned her tiara, that had driven her far from their holds, bent on denying them their binds. They'd never forgive her and she would never yield to their demands — there in lay the conflict. Queen in name, never in spirit if only to obey her own rebellious nature — that would be Rochelle Andreevna Ivanova.

Something changed, however, snapping quickly into focus moments too late as she watched the spark of cruel delight flare up into a full fledged forest fire deep in Mikkal's eyes. She drew her breath to speak, to say something, anything — but all that would come out was a quick hiss of air as his knuckles and the back of his hand connected with the delicate porcelain of her right cheek and orbital socket. The force of it threw her off balance, sending her scrambling sideways and down, bracing on her arms as she struggled with the sensation of the blow. Her eye felt like it was going to explode, the pain as sharp and as vicious as the man who had dealt the punch. Stars and spots danced in front of it as she struggled to open it, her head shaking as she reeled to clear it. "I won't forget." she seethed, pushing herself back up onto her knees, eying the man with her good eye, a hand covering the other as the throbbing tried to subside.

It was almost like watching a movie in slow motion. Amelia saw the wind up, the swing, and even as the thought to move and intervene occurred to her, she flinched at the sound of impact between flesh.

"Are you quite done?" Amelia demanded, a glance down at Rochelle as she stepped forward with a snarl.

When Rochelle was hit, Vlimar actually took a step forward, both to shield Rochelle from a subsequent blow and to help her get to feet. However, by looking at the Captain's composure, he remained there, offering an obstacle to the tall bronze man, while Rochelle settled herself.

The Atlantean looked at Rochelle, then smiled at Amelia. He stated to her "Would you like to have a memory of your own?" he asked, taunting her.

"Enough!" Rochelle yelled, finding her feet and then her balance while trying to deal with the slight against her equilibrium, her uncovered eye meeting Mikkal's gaze, "You're relieved of your duties. I refuse to allow this kind of bullshit to continue on my ship or in the royal house. Go back to Atlantis Prime and let them know you were successful, but you've disgraced the crown by threatening a Starfleet officer." She all but spat at him.

Mikkal turned sharply towards Rochelle and advanced towards her menacing. However, his tone of voice remained very calm. "I seriously doubt that you will do that, removing me from the porter position require you to nominate an immediate successor. Besides, I have my peerage from the Queen, something you cannot remove from me," he stated, a smile appearing to his lips, as Vlimar put his hand on the man's chest to stop his advance, to which Mikkal did not resist.

"I am the Queen." Rochelle bristled, stepping forward as Vlimar held Mikkal back from further onslaught. She didn't fear the tall Atlantean, her much smaller stature failing to yield to him. "If I need to nominate a new porter, so be it and I will keep them at my side here on this ship."

Mikkal shrugged. He looked at the petite female approaching him without budging. "Queen you may be, but Atlantean you are not," he said, obviously menacing. "Replacing you would be... convenient," he stated, biting his lips.

Her eyes rolled, causing her to wince slightly, "Oh please. We both know I tried to avoid this. It's not my fault that Annelise bore sons instead of daughters." She scoffed, "Threaten me all you want, Mikkal. Your time with the royal family is over and your time here on my ship is over as I now fear for your safety."

"For my safety?" he asked, genuinely surprised. "Now, how could my safety be threatened in any way?" he asked torn between amusement and shock.

Amelia had already started to size up the taller man, looking for his weaknesses as he scoffed at his Queen, and the captain of this vessel. She stepped forward, getting in his personal space.

"You will leave this ship now, either by being thrown off, or of your own volition. I highly recommend the latter, because I can not guarantee I can tell the difference between the airlock and the shuttle bay at this point," Amelia said, much cooler than she expected she'd be able to, but certainly not in a polite manner.

Mikkal smiled widely. "Let me save you the trouble. You would create a diplomatic incident which would likely make quite an impression onto your current little conflict..." he stated, clearly referring to the current civil war. "So, I will actually stay right here, on this ship, until I have rested and that I have completed my mission as porter, until my successor is named," he added, clearly not budging from the threats of removal.

Amelia growled, clearly ready to follow through with her threat when two words in his statement triggered recognition in her brain and somehow reached the logic center. She still narrowed her eyes and him, clearly not pleased with the situation, but diplomatic incident was enough to put her in check. She looked to Rochelle helplessly. Amelia wanted nothing more than to be done with this man. The urge to call duPont to drag this man off to guest quarters was high, but would sending this asshole with the biggest gossip on the ship really be the smart move? She couldn't help letting her eyes dart to Commander PontBrillant for a moment before they returned to Rochelle.

All Rochelle could do was sigh. Heavily. Her head shook as she considered the tall bronze man. "Fine." She all but barked, feeling the blood begin to pound in the temple closest to her injured eye, "Someone needs to get him out of my ready room and off my bridge before I stop caring about diplomatic incidents and use that crown to cover my own ass."

Angry couldn't even begin to describe the surge of emotion that tore through her chest and along her veins, setting her very core ablaze for all the wrong reasons. The Captain stepped back and away from Mikkal and towards the replicator, certain that Amelia and Vlimar would intercede should he make another advance in her direction. Ice was on order, in a bag. The coolness of it in her fingers only served as a brutal reminder of why she'd ordered it, and against her eye it felt like Heaven and Hell all the same time.

Vlimar stepped forward as Rochelle turned her back to the man. He did not trust him and received clear orders to remove him, now. His left hand moved to the tall bronze man's chest and he pushed him. "Let's go," he stated.

The tall man did not resist the push, rather continued to observe Rochelle. "We will meet again, I will be back," he stated, fire in his eyes.

Vlimar immediately pushed him again, this time turning him around. "Alright, let's go Terminator," he said, as the Ready Room door opened. Mikkal turned again to face Rochelle as he was pushed back by Vlimar. He bowed gracefully. "Your majesty... for now," he said. Vlimar pushed him again, escorting him out of the ready room and towards the turbo lift.

Vlimar escorted the silent male into the Turbolift. As they entered, the tall man turned to look at the Commander. As the door closed, he leaned towards Vlimar's ear and stated: "We can probably work together...", as the door slid shut.

With Vlimar and Mikkal gone, Rochelle allowed herself to seek the comfort of her chair, dropping her lithe frame into it. It huffed in protest of suddenly being occupied so roughly. To her it was worse than the Orzhov situation, they couldn't simply fly away from this and Mikkal, for now, was there to stay as a constant annoyance and rough shod thorn in her side.

"Is there anything I can do for you before I go?" Amelia asked Rochelle, hoping that even if Rochelle's answer was no, Vlimar and the porter would have time to leave so she wasn't stuck in a turbolift with them. Vlimar she would have welcomed, normally, but his charge was liable to provoke her into putting a mark on her record, if not face court martial.

"No." Rochelle responded, setting her head down, her face mostly hidden by the bag of ice covering her eye.

"I'll do what I can to figure out how to get him off the ship without diplomatic incident," Amelia promised as she turned towards the door. "Maybe tap Vlimar to help, if needed, so as to avoid anyone else being involved if possible." Amelia sighed.

Rochelle's head shook slightly under the ice, causing it to crack together. "Amelia..." She said with a sigh, "Tread lightly with PontBrillant." Her tone nearly shocked her to silence, it was Andrea's tone, the motherly Captainy tone. "You have stars in your eyes and I don't trust him further than I can throw him just yet."

"I-" Amelia started to protest, then sighed. "Take care of your eye, we can talk about Vlimar later. At least in this, he was witness so he's involved regardless if you trust him. Let me know if you need anything." With that, she left her Captain to nurse her shiner.

=/\= END LOG =/\=

Captain Rochelle Ivanova
Commanding Offiver
USS VINDICATOR

Lt Commander Amelia Waterhouse
Executive Officers
USS Vindicator

Vlimar PontBrillant
Chief of Operations
USS Vindicator

 

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