Joint Log | Capt Ivanova, Cmdr PontBrillant - "Bulletproof" - PT II/III

Posted on Fri Oct 24th, 2014 @ 12:38am by Admiral Rochelle Ivanova & Vlimar PontBrillant

1,905 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Are You Touched?

Vlimar ran to the door and noticed two security personnel manning the entrance having clearly just arrived. With a nod, he entered the sector, disappearing as the door shut behind him. A nervous sweat began to break out as he made the bridge his priority. That infamous bridge where, weeks ago, perhaps even months ago, he opened his heart to the petite redhead and forever changed the course of his history.

The bleeding wasn't profuse, but it was there, running scarlet ribbons down her leg in crude decoration. Rochelle been forced to remove her duty boots to free her legs from the torn, bloody flaps of her uniform and had gathered up her tattered tunic in an attempt to cover herself. A pervasive chill ran along her arms reminding her she was cold. Having not cycled beyond late summer, the Captain couldn't remember the arboretum ever being that chilly, but still she shivered all the same as she stood there taking in gruesome scene before her. Mikkal lay motionless a few feet away, his chest barely rising and falling, but she knew he was alive. He'd made a few grotesque gurgling noises, twitched a couple times, but ultimately lay unconscious and bleeding where she'd dropped him. She could see the dark stains of her own blood smeared across the planks where she herself had fallen and dragged herself towards her combadge and in the moonlight it seemed like a movie, some old horror flick slowly being erased by what had once brought her such serenity.

The creak of footsteps on the plank forced her to snap her attention in the direction of such a sound, the chill in her blood beginning to yield back to the fire necessary to fight if need be. It died as quick as it came to life, silenced by the sight of the knight's approach.

Vlimar approached through the dark as he saw at least one silhouette standing on the bridge. His approach was hasty, ready for anything. As he got closer, the fake moonlight gave a peek at what had happened. Rochelle was there, standing, holding herself against the rail. Her clothes were torn away, revealing more than what anyone should have been allowed to see. On the ground, he noticed Mikkal lying in a pool of blood, a knife near his hand. Vlimar was slow to approach Rochelle while removing his tunic.

"Rochelle... Are you alright?" he asked, concerned, as his tunic left his shoulders to wrap around hers. From the difference in their size, Vlimar's tunic looked like a grossly cut dress, covering her from her neck to mid-thigh. It was then that he noticed the blood rolling down her leg.

Her head shook as she dropped what was left of her own tunic and closed his around her, shielding her body from the night and whatever eyes may soon come flying through that door. "He's alive." Was all she replied, her eyes leaving Vlimar to fixate on the body lying twisted on the deck. "He'll need to be put under protective custody until he's recovered enough to stand trial." Always a Captain, always putting Starfleet and the ship first, Rochelle tipped her chin, lifting it in a show of her own strength as she squared her shoulders against the picture the entire ordeal had painted.

Vlimar tapped his com badge. "PontBrillant to Medical, prepare for two. Security to Arboretum, one for custody.", he called and, almost instantly, the two guards standing outside came running through the arboretum towards Vlimar. As they arrived, he barked: "Protective Custody, bring him to sickbay, twenty-four hour watch."

"Yes sir." replied one of the guards.

Vlimar wrapped his arm around Rochelle's shoulders and muttered. "If you allow me to break the rule, I will help you out, discreetly."

The Captain's eyes flashed dangerously with anger as she stood rigid under his touch, "Which rule?" She asked, her voice low as she watched the guards duck around what should have been a corpse. If she'd been anyone else, anything else, she'd have killed him before they got there. The peace and tranquility of the place had been destroyed, shattered, and with it ran what was left of her quietude and diplomacy for the evening.

Vlimar answered by tightening his grip around her shoulders, shielding her with his body, as he lead her towards the door of the arboretum in and attempt to try to hide her compromised presence from the crowd of security personnel entering. The lights were turned on, breaking the day/night cycle, as per security measures. The investigation on the site would begin as Mikkal was beamed away.

"Let's go to Sickbay to get you checked out." he said, explaining his actions.

The Captain relaxed ever so slightly under his grip as his intentions became apparent. There were no hidden requests, no thinly veiled ploys, just the intent to remove her from that situation and usher her to safety and security. She nodded in response, "Ok." the word was quiet and hushed, so very out of place as she forced it to be uttered and followed along with him.

Shock was a powerful thing. The recoiling and retreat of that level of emotion was fearsome and had landed a blow against her system. Rochelle knew that what had been done couldn't be undone. She also knew that the word of her fight would ricochet through the ship on hushed lips and fire filled eyes. It was still her playground, as always, and she'd defended not only her own honor but that of the entire Vindicator that night.

Vlimar kept her tight as he walked past members of his crew that had flooded in to guard the different accesses. He lead her to the turbo lift in silence, waited that the door open to lead her in and waiting for the door to shut.

She sighed, heavily, the moment the doors were shut and Vlimar called for the appropriate location. Her body, suddenly so very sore now that the adrenaline was wearing off, leaned against a wall as the lift took off and was instantly reminded of what would become bruises without the help of a dermal regenerator. She knew that photographs would be taken as evidence, knew that Mikkal's handiwork would be preserved and investigated. Her privacy had been ripped apart, not unlike her modesty, and that alone was maddening. She should have killed him like she promised herself she would. "I don't know what the Gods have against my thigh." She tried to joke, to lighten the heavy mood. Looking down she could see the injury his knife had rendered across her thigh mere centimeters away from where a Noturan spear head had once lodged itself. Medical miracles had erased all signs of that trauma, but the memory was still there.

Vlimar looked down as she mentioned the injury. He observed her perfectly formed thigh being painted by an angry sea of red. He shook his head slowly, then looked at her. "I hope you are not in too much pain." he offered prior to falling into silence looking back at the door for an instant, then looked back at her. "If you wish, I can conduct the entire investigation myself, at least your statements and other investigative steps involving you." he offered, smiling weakly.

"I don't feel it." Rochelle replied, casting her eyes back to his. Only the faintest stings had permeated the straight line of the cut. Adrenaline had taken care of the rest, her body working to save her the pain and fear associated with such a wound. It was amazing, really, how the mind worked to protect itself -- something she'd save to discuss with Tristan or Logan when they inevitably came knocking. She considered what he offered next, her head tilting slightly. A tangled lock of freed copper took its cue to fall across her shoulder, the fight had obliterated her French twist - freeing the waves of her mane mid-struggle. If she'd stopped to think, to really assess how she looked, the word feral may have come to mind. Battle hardened, wild eyed as she began to settle and allow it all to fade away. "I can't hide from this, Vlimar, and you know it. I can give you my statements but everything else is going to be picked apart by medical and Starfleet JAG. The Atlanteans..." She sighed with a shake of her head, "He's as good as dead to them for what he's done."

Vlimar remained silent for a few seconds as the turbo lift continued travelling to their expected arrival area, his eyes fixated on the petite Captain, both due to his duty and to his affection for her. He wanted to catch her if something happened. He began to feel responsible for the events that had transpired, after all, somehow, Mikkal had found out about their messaging and mimicked it efficiently enough to make her believe it had been him waiting.

"I will be there, Rochelle. Will help you through it, for whatever that's worth." he stated, as the turbo lift stopped at the right deck, opening the doors directly into sickbay.

"I know. I appreciate it." She nodded, tugging his tunic tighter around her shoulders as she stepped out of the lift and into the frenzy of activity in sickbay. She was quickly whisked away to another area far from where a team worked on Mikkal. She could see the disgust written across their faces, but knew they were bound by an oath to do what they could to save and repair him. He'd never be the same. In the bright halogen lights of the medical ward she could see where his blood had run down her wrist, its telltale gold running a stark set of paths along her delicate porcelain skin. It disgusted her. The sooner she could wash him from her, the better.

The tunic was forced to be discarded, leaving her there for prying eyes to pour over the feminine inches of her body. Swabbing, culturing, gathering evidence as she stood there stoic and bitter. There were splatters of gold across her abdomen, ribs and chest where blood and fluid had dripped and attempted to with the bright startling scarlet of her own where his knife had opened shallow cuts. The only break in the damage path had come by the resistance of her underwear, and even then, the darkness of them marred the lines of her figure with how violently they stood out against her complexion. She hated this, the very essence of it, as he continued to violate her by proxy. Rochelle's eyes met Vlimar's, cold as ice, as she conveyed her emotions so brilliantly through them.

Vlimar had stayed in the room as he needed to keep continuity of the evidence. However, he kept his eyes directly on her's, not even daring to think of looking at anything else. His eyes were expressing anger, but trying to be soothing anyway, as it was the only thing he could control. He observed the medical staff doing their thing as he moved closer to Rochelle, offering her a smile. His hand slowly brushed on the back of her's, as if to say; it's going to be alright.


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continued in part II/III
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Captain Rochelle Ivanova
Commanding Officer
USS VINDICATOR, NCC 78213-E

&

Commander Vlimar PontBrillant
SOC
USS VINDICATOR

 

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