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JL | Com Ivanova, Ens DiAngelo | "I Need To Tell"

Posted on 241807.25 @ 19:26 by Commodore Rochelle Ivanova & Ensign Amelia Diangelo

Mission: Lacuna
Location: Commodore's Readyroom

Her head hurt.

A small head ache, nothing she shouldn’t be worried about, normally. However there had been too many things going on since she as of late that it was now gnawing at her soul, she was afraid to tell anyone, to tell even James. Holding her hand against her head trying to press the pain and thoughts away, simultaneously holding some padds in the other while navigating through a long corridor the young woman didn’t look where she was going and was too distracted not to notice the woman she bumped into, “S-sorry…” She squealed getting knocked on her rear, hastily shooting up reaching for the pads she had just dropped, A second later Amelia’s eyes widened realizing who the woman was she crashed into feared for another incident. “No, no!” She said frantically.

That would teach Rochelle to stop mid-traffic to check anything. The chronometer at her wrist had beeped, a message from Archer. They'd arrived at their destination and for a second, the very second before she'd be nearly run over, she allowed herself to release the breath she'd been holding... And then? Blammo. Blindsided, Rochelle crab stepped sideways and into a bulkhead, wincing as her elbow, shoulder, and hip collided with the solid plated wall. It was a blow she hadn't been ready for, one rendered by a taller person toting a decent stack of PADDs that clattered to the floor before her boots. Immediately the redheaded Commodore cradled her injured arm - allowing sensations other than pain return after that mighty thwack against the tender ulnar nerve - and turned to face her assailant.

Amelia DiAngelo. Archer's adopted daughter turned junior spy.

The Commodore's arctic blue eyes focused on the other, albeit younger, woman - lacking warmth, holding the light of a grim warning that she wasn't amused. "Accidents happen, Ensign. If you're alright, carry on." Was the kindest thing she could muster given her own desire to hunt down an ice pack and prepare for what lay ahead on the mission at hand.

The girl was on the floor mumbling about the one padd she was looking for, then another one fell from underneath her arm, Amelia cursed under her breath and as Amelia recovered the one she was missing, not noticing the last padd containing her own medical record, which was laying on the floor behind Amelia. The girl got up and felt intimidated by her father’s crush and didn’t know what to do for a brief instant, finally pressing the padds against her chest, “Don’t worry about me ma’am. Are.., you alright?” she carefully responded as she watched the Commodore, “I’m needing- to talk with you, private.” Amelia misspoke.

"I'll be fine." Rochelle replied, one slender brow slowly arcing skyward. The girl was nothing more than that - a girl. There was no sign of the confidence an Intel officer required, though she was willing to offer the benefit of the doubt to her. It wasn't everyday someone physically assaulted their senior officer and a flag officer all in one - but Amelia had managed to do it. "You have ten minutes, Ensign, things are more than a little tense at the moment but I'll spare you the time it takes to ice my elbow." And that was all in the way of invitation the brusque woman would offer the junior officer, pivoting to make way back towards her readyroom and the replicator that lay within.

The journey, short, was silent and once within the safety and confines of her personal office - Rochelle shirked her duty jacket, tugged her plain white silk camisole down, and set off to order up that ice. "What can I do for you?" She asked, looking at her elbow while waiting for the replicator to conjure up her order. The budding bruise was going to be interesting to explain to Almar. Craig had other things to handle, things far more pressing than a silly bruise.

Seeing the familiar ready room, Amelia took a minute to look around and gather up what courage she could muster to speak to the woman. Before finally she took a deep breathe and spoke. “My father wants to know everything you’ve eaten, where you’ve been and he gave me the task of doing so. It’s why I was in that the briefing room and just now in the corridor, on my way to find you and see what you were doing when you were doing it…” The girl said at a fast pace, and was honest with the Commodore. Standing upright still clinging onto the pads in her arms. Figuring she wasn’t getting anywhere with her trying to spy on the woman. She took a chance at just asking. “He’s worried about your wellbeing.”

Rochelle paused in her application of ice to her bruising elbow and her head snaked in the other woman's direction, "I'm sorry, what?" She asked, narrowing those cold eyes. "You can tell Commander Archer that it's none of his fucking business what I eat and when I eat it. In fact, use that exact quote." The woman hissed, completely and totally lacking in humor or amusement at the situation at hand. While the morning had started out completely wonderful, the charm of it had rapidly deteriorated and taken her good mood right down to Hell with it.

Amelia almost dropped the pads she had in her arm as she heard Rochelle's verbal assault, squeezing the padds a little too hard caused one of the screens to crack. "I... I'm sorry Commodore!" the girl apologized again and sat the padds down on Rochelle's desk. The conversation she wanted to have with the flag officer turned into a disaster and to top things off her headache was starting to get worse,

You can do this Amelia, you can do this… The spy thought to herself, not expecting how the conversation would go the ensign had to do something about it. On the plus side, the longer she stayed in the room the more data she could collect if she was able to keep up the weak girl charade. Amelia looked over her shoulder with a sad expression, hoping it would provoke some sympathy from the Commodore, after all it wasn’t her fault she had been assigned to stalker duty. The young woman moved over to the couch, sat down cradled her head in her hands. "I screwed up.., again!" Amelia murmured on the verge of tearing up.

"You may consider rethinking the route you've chosen, Ensign, if you can't handle being chewed out for fucking up." Rochelle, when charged, was a merciless creature. Her young officers wouldn't learn from coddling, they wouldn't grow, expand, or figure out how to solve their own puzzles if she held them by the hand and offered them a safe space filled with fresh baked cookies and an ocean wave sound track. Life didn't work that way, it rolled you over and forced you to react. "Now... With respect to the stunt you pulled with my replicator... If you ever do that, or something like it, again... You're off my ship. Your job is to tie up loose ends for Archer, not make life more difficult for the crew that actually run this vessel. The Vindicator is a flag ship. She is my ship and we handle details and missions that are downright dangerous. We cannot afford to have a loose cannon or someone screwing with the systems at any rate."

The redhead continued, crossing over to her desk to pick up the PADDs, "And these? Confiscated. I'll have my yeoman return them to the Commander when he returns and he can decide what to do with them. From now on you will not be welcome in this Ready Room with any piece of tech that can possibly record anything. Consider yourself on suspension pending the Commander's return and my discussion with Commander Dahe'el." Her desk drawer opened, the PADDs were dropped in, and then it was pushed sharply shut by the Commodore's fingertips in emphasis of her decision.

Well.., shit lady! Amelia thought to herself and sighed while sadly looking at how her padds, Useless padds containing nothing but junk data, accept for the one she left out in one of the corridors were all being confiscated, She was however surprised about one thing, the praise about the replicator, if it hadn’t been for her Yeoman… she would have succeeded the first time. It would seem that things were going to get difficult for her and had to be even more careful. Staring in front of her for a brief moment as fake tears ran down her saddened expression. She was deciding what course to take… As she wiped them away. Then looked over to the replicator, it was the second thing that caused her to go down this path, what was so important about that thing that her father needed the data from it? Then it hit her, he didn’t.

Her father didn’t want to know what the Commodore had ordered or eaten, no! He nor did he want to know what was being said in this room, She was entitled to her privacy. Then why? Amelia had been a fool trying to force her way to the data., she was so busy trying to impress her father by showing that she could do it that she went overboard. “I’ve been an idiot, made the wrong choices, I respectfully apologize and accept your decision to pull me off duty, perhaps a little time focusing on other things would help.”

"Perhaps so." Rochelle retorted sharply, once again picking up the ice pack she'd made for herself and set it back against the bare skin of her elbow. "Either way, you're dismissed to your own recognizance. Be happy you're not headed to the brig."

“Thank you ma’am,” Amelia said relieved she stayed on the couch for a brief moment before getting up and smiled. “if there’s anything I can do for you, don’t hesitate…” Amelia was very relieved, she did however had the impression that the commodore didn’t think highly of the young ensign, she was however grateful that Rochelle was being rather lenient towards her. And the headache Amelia was suffering from seemed to be gone.., for now.

"If I think of anything." The Commodore nodded and raised an eyebrow, waiting for the young woman to depart.

With a single acknowledging nod towards the woman Amelia took one last look towards the Commodore’s desk and walked towards the door and disappeared through the threshold with a confident smile, having recovered a little of her self-esteem and felt a slightly better about herself.

---

Commodore Rochelle Ivanova
Commanding Officer
USS VINDICATOR, NX-78213-F

Ensign Amelia Diangelo
Intelligence Officer
U.S.S. Vindicator

 

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