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JL | Lt Hawk, Ivanova (MU) | "Onward"

Posted on 241804.08 @ 09:59 by Rochelle Ivanova & Lieutenant Michael Hawk

Mission: Ebbtide

The more time passed, the more twitchy things became. It was growing more and more difficult for her to ignore the little niggling bits of things that continued to tug at her mind. There was still one telepath aboard the ship, the one closest to her doppelganger... And then there was the fact her plan to drive a wedge between Landon and the Commodore by way of Almar had been thwarted. It made the situation dangerous. And then there was a whole new element of 'worse' with the way the Commodore had divorced her husband. It meant that there was only a matter of time before Michael became interested in something more than the clandestine evening meetings she'd allowed him. It wasn't that she didn't 'enjoy' them, but it was the fact that if he approached the Commodore the entire thing would go up in smoke when she rebuffed him out of simple ignorance to what was going on. Shameful and scandalous for certain. Then again... He'd likely be dismissed as being completely nuts.

Where there was a will, there was a way - and the information she was obtaining was far too good to let go of by simply cutting things off. "My father has me seeing those he deems eligible for a potential union," She started, sighing as she sprawled across the bed, languidly basking in the fine feel of silk against her skin, "I'm doing what I can to keep him happy... The Klingons are a powerful force, I'm just thankful that he hasn't wanted me to dine with one even though he belongs to the Chancelor's house." She chuckled, peering over at Michael, trying to read emotions as they flickered across his face.

Michael stood in the doorway that separated their room from the bathroom. One shoulder was leaning against the frame as he watched the woman whose bed he shared. From time to time. Stealthily. As much as possible. It didn't feel like enough to him, but it had to do. Starfleet would throw a fit if they learned what they'd been doing all these months. To him, it had been a welcome distraction from life. With the ship still docked, after all those months, he would be losing it if it weren't for these distractions. He wanted to fly, but the Vindicator hadn't left dock in all that time. Sure, they'd sent him out in smaller crafts to fly recon and patrols, but that wasn't a starship. "I don't think I'm looking forward to dine with one of the Klingon houses either," he commented as he pulled a face to make his point even more clearly.

"No. I wouldn't dare dream that you would be." She responded, rolling onto her side, "There may come a time that you'll have to endure such horrors, though. Hope you like your meat raw and gagh fresh." The woman teased. Sometimes it was nice to forget that she wore an invisible leash connecting her to the Romulans - at least one Romulan. It made little difference in the grand scheme of her plans - so far she was assimilating just fine and Michael, son of an Admiral, step son of another Admiral, was playing perfectly into her hand. When she needed something, he gave it. If he didn't have that info, it was almost certain that he'd lend an ear to the scuttlebutt around the ship and learn it. Of course her methods of asking questions had become more clandestine, keeping them away from politics and more towards crew sentiment. "No doubt that will all be on the back burner until we bring Lieutenant Dai'xun and Commander Valeese home. Makes you wonder, though, who would steal a Vorta from Starfleet... Or a Stenellis for that matter." Her brows furrowed.

That was a question Tr'Bak was working to answer as well. Just who had chosen to fuck with his favorite toy by stealing Dai'xun from the Vindicator. The kidnapping of the Vorta was just an extra piece of ire as the Romulan Senator decided whether or not Cold Station Theta, and the lives aboard, were additional fixtures in his galactic playroom. So far, though, he'd been undecided and allowed Rochelle her head when it came to making decisions.

"I don't understand it either," Michael sighed as he padded his way to the side of the bed and sat down. The crew had been talking about little else in the few days since Si'a had been kidnapped. When he was in the pilot's flight room, there as also some chatter about the CST officer who'd been taken, but he wasn't amongst them often enough to really get a feel about their feelings. The Vindicator crew, that was different. Even if he didn't have many duty shifts aboard, and even if he did sleep a lot of nights on the base, he was still a member of the crew. "Si'a has been through so much on our last mission," he continued, pausing briefly as he tried to ignore his own failures during that mission. Somehow, they had never come up during their nights together. His failures, his inability to do his duty, but that had always suited him just fine. He didn't need to be reminded of them while he was making love to his skipper. "What her kidnappers would want to get out of her, I don't know."

"That's what troubles me," and in many ways it did. Who steals a Stenellis? "It makes me wonder who's next? Are they just kidnapping to sell for profit because exotic? The indications seem to want to point that way since they took female specimens of two very unique species." A couple wiggles and she close enough to touch him, allowing her fingers to walk his thigh. "Anaxar has been off ever since. Pity too, he's a rather resourceful officer." Bait set, she thought, the walking turned to tracing of various shapes and symbols as she spoke, "You've got a strong head on your shoulders, maybe you should talk to him? Try and cheer him up?" See what he knows, went without saying, but she knew it would come back. Michael had yet to fail her with his resourceful nature.

Anaxar hadn't exactly been the best of company the past couple of days. Not anything to be surprised about, but still. They hadn't talked much at all. Even before their last mission, Michael and Anaxar hadn't crossed paths often. Now, it wasn't exactly what Michael was looking forward to either. But perhaps Rochelle was right. Perhaps he could make an effort to talk to the Andorian. It wasn't because he wouldn't engage in conversation himself, that he couldn't use some cheering up. "It's a good idea," he replied, distracted by the fingers tracing the inside of his thigh. He'd be willing to do anything she suggested. She knew that. He knew that. He didn't care.

Her grin was a warmer version of Cheshire, filled with the contentment that came with knowing that the wheels were well greased and always turning towards progress, "Thank you," she hummed, "Means a lot to me to know you agree. That you care." The fingers paused and leaped, traveling to his arm where she could take hold and pull him down to her. A kiss to his temple was quite continental, but was simply the means to a beginning of a reward system that seemed to benefit them both in many many ways. "I look forward to when this doesn't have to be kept a secret, you know... Just have to let my father's bullshit simmer down, let him realize I can make my own choices."

"I'm in no rush," he spoke softly, only too happy to receive his reward. He enjoyed the way she kept teasing him, rewarding him but keeping back at the same time. He was enchanted by the secrecy and the feeling of both so much power and being powerless. Having to keep their relationship to himself, not even acknowledging it when they meet on the Bridge. But when they got to be alone, alone in this room, she was his.

Or was it the other way around?

---

Lieutenant Michael Hawk
Chief Navigation Officer
USS VINDICATOR, NX-78213-F

Rochelle Ivanova (MU)
Privateer
Romulan Star Empire

 

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