JPL | COM. Ivanova, Cmdr. Dahe'el - "I Was Looking For a Soft Place to Fall" pt. I/V

Posted on Sat Jan 10th, 2015 @ 12:51pm by Admiral Rochelle Ivanova

2,393 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: A Spot To Kill

The command chair was beginning to mold itself into the form of the Cardassian that currently occupied it, his duty shifts had bought him to the bridge more and more often during the repair cycle and after the unexpected interruption to the ceremony on Earth, he reckoned they needed to make sure everything was done to top specifications before they hit the lawless edges of the Federation.

Another PADD was handed to him and was returned after a brief viewing and a thumbprint applied to the necessary area, "Reroute power through the auxiliary batteries and give them a stress test before we leave, I'm questioning their quality." he stated before dismissing the young NonCom.

The NonCom froze, their eyes darting back and forth between the Cardassian that sat in the command chair and the Commodore that had quietly come to stand beside them. "Consider it done." Rochelle replied, nodding in kind to the engineer who quickly took their leave. She and the ship were sitting in the same shape, each waiting for the all clear that they were set to once again take to the stars -- but it didn't keep the young officer from strolling her decks in between cruising New York's finest delis and Arizona's deepest canyons. It was her civilian clothing that acted as her white flag to keep Rotek and the others from promptly chasing her back to her quarters or escorting her back to leave on Earth.

Almar had been scarce since the revealing of Landon and while Rochelle was a keen and adept young woman, chasing people through Jeffries tubes had never been her forte. Catching them while they sat guardian in her chair was a much easier task. "You're in my spot." She teased.

"You're also off duty, Doctors orders," the Cardassian replied with a slight smile as he turned in the chair to face the young Commodore and flashed her a knowing look, "You're also missing a few necessary items Commodore."

"Small details, all of them easily remedied." She sniffed in response and waved the thought away with a wiggle of fingers. "You can't sit sentinel the entire time we're on leave, Almar. The award's ceremony and Christmas dinner don't really count." The grin that began to paint itself across the woman's face was one full of mischief and bright with mirth. "You can either move over to Commander Waterhouse's seat and give me mine, or you can come back to Earth with me. Your choice."

"I very well can, as Chief Engineer, it's part of my duty to oversee the repairs of this ship and to see that they are done to a satisfactory manner," Almar replied as he flashed her another look, "You're to remain off duty, which means I'm coming back to Earth with you." he added as he gestured towards one of the duty officers, "You have the conn Lieutenant, forward the reports to my personal PADD."

"You're no fun." Rochelle's eyes rolled and she gestured for him to follow her, "but I figured you'd say that. The next choice you'll make is New York or Arizona." She all but chirped as she set off towards the lift.

Almar was close on her heels and entered the lift just as the doors slid shut, "Well, I think New York is still recovering from the beating it took at the hands of our crew for the celebrations we held and I've yet to see anything of Arizona, although it has been recommended to me. I hear it's quite warm most of the time."

"Parts." Rochelle nodded as she called for the transporter room. Technology would never fail to astound her; shuttles were practically useless with the ships ranges combining with the rest of the Fleet's sensors. "There's a lot of winter weather in the higher elevations and the desert can be chilly at night. I'll make sure you'll be warm."

"So, how is Cap... former Captain Neyes?" the Cardassian asked as he leant against one of the railings in the lift, it was something he had very little part in concealing and yet was something that had the whole command staff buzzing with whispers.

Taking up her usual roost against the back bulkhead, Rochelle considered the question, "He's doing rather well." She smiled, "From what I understand he's started speaking with Commander Grant and has mended fences with Commander Neyes." The redhead knew the question was thinly veiling Almar's curiosity into the matter of how she and the former Captain were fairing. It was all the same as everyone else; the whispers along the corridors were constantly trying to compare notes and timing the Trill and the little Commodore's comings and goings in an attempt to draw parallels between the two of them. They'd failed so far, and it wasn't like Rochelle would give them even the smallest inkling otherwise. It wasn't any of their business.

"That must be quite confusing for Commander Neyes, it's not often that you find out that your memories and everything you know was constructed and... I don't know how he's handling it to be honest, I'd struggle." the Cardassian replied with a knowing nod, "Grant has his work cut out for him. Do we know if the symbiosis commission has caught wind of this?"

"I know he's confused by lot." Rochelle nodded and pursed her lips, "I think the fact he had an imposter and we were all lead to believe he was dead is what hurts the most." He'd said as much, she knew. The nightmares and the worries all seemed so painfully familiar to her. She'd long dreamed of monsters stemming from the Whydah and Notura only to have the monsters of the ice world vanquished and told to be a lie. And then there was his question of the commission. Admiral Red's words came back to haunt her, warning her of the way the vipers had been slithering through the shadows in an attempt to sink their teeth into a warm throat. "They have." She nodded, practically choking on the acknowledgment. The lift came to a halt and chimed their arrival. "Admiral Red said as much. Apparently we celebrated a bit prematurely and shouldn't have done a public ceremony. They know and they want them."

"Do they know that Commander Neyes' symbiont is the cloned one?" the Cardassian replied as the doors slid open and revealed the deck leading to the transporter room.

"According to the reports she handed me, they know one is cloned and they want both of them for sampling." Stepping out of the lift, she kept her pace slow and waited for Almar to fall in step beside her, "I'm not going to release either one or samples of anything." Rochelle almost shivered at the thought, "Neither one of them is a guinea pig. They're decorated Starfleet officers."

"It seems like we will likely have some kind of company, if we don't hand them over, they are likely to come and get them, or at least try to." Almar replied as he matched his step to the much smaller woman's.

Rochelle quickly looked up at the Cardassian, sidelong as she rounded the corner and through the doors into the transporter room, "They're welcome to try." She replied as she stepped up on the pad. "The end will be the same; they'll go home empty handed. I didn't just give Archer to the Romulans, did I?"

"I'd say it'll be a cold day in Hell when you willingly turn over a friend." Almar replied with a broad smile, his gaze remaining forward as he moved towards the transporter pad, "Two to beam to..." the Cardassian began before looking over to the Commodore, "Do you have a location in mind?"

"Home coordinates, authorization yankee uniform mike alpha two." Rochelle finished the order for him. Seconds later the whine and shimmer synonymous with being beamed away consumed them and deposited them somewhere far away from the ship, and most civilization for a planet so heavily occupied with domination. Home was cold, begging for light. The last that had been there had been Dani Atarah, but everything seemed to be in order and a simple mutter or two had the lights turned on and the heat turned up. Rochelle rubbed her hands together and immediately looked to Almar, beckoning him close as she crossed the familiar slate and hardwood floors to find a linen closet and plucked a charcoal colored throw from within. "This doesn't count as a cold day in Hell." She quipped, turning to stand on tip toe and drape the blanket over the Cardassian's shoulders. "Welcome to Crown King, Arizona, one of the last real mountain towns. Some two hundred feet down and its high desert, below that, just open desert. There's two roads in and out of here, both of them dirt and both of them not well maintained. I'm not surprised it wasn't trashed by Fed First." She babbled as she moved off to inspect the rest of her home. It was quaint, rustic, and the ideal hide away from all things formal and military. "There's snow outside." She announced, stopping by the den window to observe the evergreens sporting their freshly frozen coif. Even in the darkness the white of the stuff was unmistakable.

"I do not deal well with snow," Almar replied with a slight smile after being draped with a blanket. He wrapped it around his large frame and hunched slightly to breed his body warmth, "This is your home?"

"You don't say?" Rochelle teased, casting a glance at him back over her shoulder. Notura, was still a fresh memory complete with the worry and concern over his hypothermia induced collapse. Exposed to light, the house was far less the spooky hall of shadows it had been when they'd first been deposited in the den. The stained wooden beams gave way to carefully planned rooms and an elaborate staircase leading to a loft. "It is." She replied, looking it over. "After dealing with my family, I decided that a cabin in the woods was a great idea. But... I'm a girl and that means I inherently like pretty."

It only took a handful of steps before she rested in front of him again, touching his arm to guide him towards a couch. "Besides... We're an hour and change from Phoenix and about the same to Prescott. Civilization is close at hand if you decide you need to escape."

"Escape from what?" the Cardassian replied softly as he allowed himself to be guided to the couch where he took a seat, "It somewhat reminds me of the home we were given when my family arrived in the Federation, larger perhaps, but it feels familiar."

"Me, bears, snow... Escape." She chuckled and sat beside him, rubbing her hands up and down his shoulders. "You all did the cabin in the woods to avoid people?"

Almar took the blanket and draped his arm around the young redhead, wrapping her up with him, "Not by choice, we took what we were given," he replied with a slight sigh, "It wasn't exactly the best time to be Cardassian in the Federation back then."

"I suppose not." Rochelle mused, curling her knees beneath her and resting against him. "I think that times have changed, at least for you." Protecting him while on the grim little blue planet was of a priority to her. Tucked away in Crown King, where there was only a general store, an old mill that had been turned into a restaurant, a church and a bed and breakfast seemed likely the best choice when it came to re-introductions. Rochelle was fairly certain that the people, most of them stuck on wanting a mix of solitude and to hunt for fabled lost gold simply for the fun of it, would be far kinder to him. At least she hoped.

"Perhaps," the Cardassian replied with a light chuckle, "Although the last time I was on Earth, It didn't end too well for me, that much I can remember," he added as he looked over and met her eyes, "My people never seem to put their best foot forward when it comes to interacting with the Federation or Starfleet, they seem destined to join the wrong side."

"You are not at fault for your people's stupidity." The redhead shifted her weight and rested her head on the back rest of the couch, his arm becoming a comfortable support cradle for her neck. "Sooner or later people will realize that racism, because that's what it is, died long ago and this bullshit about never trusting Cardassians is just that... Bullshit." She sighed heavily.

"I don't know, people still struggle to trust the Romulans, maybe for good reason," Almar replied as one of his brows lifted questioningly, "The Klingons are still considered warlike and aggressive, I think it's part of the nature of sentient life to judge."

Rochelle scoffed and frowned, "The Romulans themselves have claimed they can't be trusted, that it's their nature to do what it takes to survive and grow." She huffed and tilted her head to look at him face on, "The Klingons go out of their way to make it known that they're warlike and aggressive. It's not judgment if the race is going out of their way to spread the rumors themselves. I was guilty of judging you at first. I won't make that mistake again with anyone else."

"Everyone on the Vindicator judged me at first, I was surprised when they accepted my transfer request to leave Utopia Planetia," the Cardassian replied with a slight smile, "I'm glad they did though,"

"Just because everyone did, doesn't make it right. For what it's worth, I'm glad they accepted the transfer request." The course of history, she thought, would have been gravely different. It was hard not to remember the theory of the butterfly effect and why it was so important to leave the sleeping dogs of the past alone. Outside the winter wind howled through the icy eaves as if to play a cold reminded of how barren life would be without the color the Cardassian lent it.

-- Continued in Part II --

Commodore Rochelle Ivanova
Commanding Officer
USS VINDICATOR, NCC 78213-E

&

Commander Almar Dahe’el
Chief Engineering Officer
USS VINDICATOR, NCC 78213-E

 

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