Plot Log || Adm. Red & Adm. Hark || "The End and the Beginning" pt I-II

Posted on Fri Feb 27th, 2015 @ 11:23pm by Fleet Admiral Blyx Red & Admiral Alexander Hark

2,102 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: A Spot To Kill
Location: Cold Station Theta

== Cold Station Theta ==

The station buzzed and hummed and thrummed in a new and rather unsettling way. It hadn't felt like this since she'd taken command and told a poorly group of sods to get with the program or find themselves shipped back to Earth in the most wretched of ways. One of them had even had dreadlocks. Long. Angry. Unkempt dreadlocks. At least they'd all been in uniform – scratch that – they’d all been in parts of their uniforms. Cut sleeves, tunics tied limply around their waists. One had even managed to boast that they were at least waiting regulation issue underwear. The Commanding Officer simply hadn't cared, or maybe it was that they'd given up.

“We’re in the cold, ma’am. There’s nothing out here but pirates and the insane.” Dreadlocks had explained when she’d lined him up against a wall. He’d become example number one; the worst of them. The end of them.

A smirk had donned her pouty mouth and her head had tilted to one side. She’d never touched him, hadn't needed to, but her look had said it all and she’d watched him swallow the knot he’d quickly grown in his throat. “I can see that, Lieutenant, but I suggest the pirates be hung and the insane be put back in their padded cells before 0530 tomorrow.” She’d smiled the devil’s smile, the kind that no one dare question. The next morning had quickly bled into the first month with each day spent cleaning and repairing the damaged space station. Blyx had demanded perfection and they’d given her all of that completely with a cherry on top and rainbow sprinkles as a flourish. The station now ran like clockwork, her Science labs buzzing with activity and the promise of a better tomorrow.

Ah yes… Buzzing.

She knew what that low lying energy was simply because she’d caused it before; the unrest only an Admiral could cause as they traversed the decks and corridors of whatever implement they’d landed on, ship or station… It made no difference. “Admiral Hark.” She smiled with all of her charms as the mountain of a man finally made it to the station’s operation’s center. “Welcome to Cold Station Theta.”

“Admiral Red, I believe I owe you this,” Xander replied as he stepped from the turbolift and presented the woman with a wooden box, carefully carved and decorated and inlaid with a patterned oak tree. It contained a bottle of scotch from his own collection and marked with the year 2397. his aide flustered around the operations center presenting padds to as many of the senior staff that she could find, requisition confirmations, staffing additions and removals, all of the usual stuff that came when a large ship visited a station out on the edge of nowhere. The Odyssey Class, USS Illustrious filled the main viewscreen as she finished the final docking procedures, “Shall we use your office while the Illustrious crew drops off your supplies and rotation?” the greying Admiral asked with a gesture towards what he thought would be the office of the Sector Quad Commander.

That had been thirty minutes ago.

Thirty minutes filled with small talk, idle chit chat, and mild flirtation – on her part, anyway. It was easy to see why Susan had loved him. There was something to be said about the man’s eyes and smile, the depths of them both seemed written with long lines of emotion that left him readily able to be read like a book if someone took the time. Luckily – or unluckily, depending on how one would take it – reading was just one of many hobbies the crow maned woman cherished, and, in this particular case, hated with a great deal of burning passion. Blyx knew that in just a few itsy bitsy moments she was about to watch those handsome eyes cloud over with both confusion and hurt – their view forever altered by something that had once seemed so very out of reach and far away. Deep in her heart she felt for him, and more importantly, she felt for Susan Andreevna Ivanova – may the Gods rest her soul.

“Xander, I’m afraid I have something to tell you that you may not like or want to hear,” She started, her previous smile fading as the last of their jokes settled in and died. The air suddenly felt stale and Blyx reached to brush an imaginary strand of hair from her face – something was tickling her nose. Fear? It was alien enough to the woman that it could very well have been fear that sat and flicked at the tip of her nose, but she knew there was no going back now that she’d drug the Commander in Chief through two quadrants and sat him in front of her desk. Just what the Hell do you say to someone in his position? The seconds that ticked past were poignant and thick. She could feel them bending and twisting until their simply imploded and disappeared to give way to the next stubborn tick of the clock.

Curiosity, it wasn't every day that Xander was presented with something of a personal nature that he didn't already know. He knew it had to be personal in nature because she would have bought it up before their conversation and she also wouldn't have called him Xander when presenting him with it. “There's not much that surprises me anymore Blyx,” he replied with half filled confidence as he placed his hands on his lap and raised a brow at her.

All of that was about to be shattered.

The next sound was that of one of her desk drawers being unlocked and sliding open. A soft blue silk scarf hissed at the leeching seconds as it was carefully moved to uncover and release a worn tan leather journal. The real paper pages were torn and yellowed by time and abuse. Coffee and tea stains marred the book itself, but not enough to fully rid the gold leafed monogram of ‘SAI’, and she sat it down on the desk between them with the greatest of care. It was so distinctly Susan it seemed as if it held her ghost wrapped about it, protecting the secrets she’d penned within, but one of those secrets – perhaps her darkest – was about to be revealed. “Something you should have known about long ago, long before now.” She added, carefully opening the book to a page she’d stuck a marker down on to save. “Given the situation at hand, I think she’d want you to know. Blyx nodded, looking up to search the man’s eyes as she offered the pages, full of Susan’s artistic scrawl, to him.

Taking the journal in his hand, the ageing Admiral could feel the weight of years that it held and his stomach knotted as he began to read the passage he had been presented with.

----

December 25th, 2387

She’s finally here and she’s finally sleeping. The doctors keep saying that they've never seen a baby more beautiful or curious. She greeted the world with eyes as big as saucers, more interested in everything going on than she was in giving us a cry and it took some serious convincing. I think she only finally gave them what they wanted because they pissed her off, quite frankly. I've named her Rochelle instead of Michelle or Rose. She was both and yet neither, especially with that shock of red hair, so Rochelle it is.

She looks so much like Alexander. Not that it’s a surprise, I knew Marcus wasn't her father from the first minute I thought I might be pregnant. It’s just that I can see him in her eyes and the line of her jaw. Even in her cheeks, or maybe I’m just getting ahead of myself here with guilt. I almost slipped and wrote ‘Hark’ as her last name on the birth certificate. He should have been here today. He deserves to know she’s his and impart all of that stubborn knowledge he has to her as she grows, but I can’t do it to him. I know in my heart that if he knew that he’d give up this game and demand I give it up as well. Maybe I’m selfish for wanting to continue on with Starfleet and wanting to watch him succeed, because I know I’ll take pride in watching him continue up that ladder. He’s going to be great. She’s going to be great because he helped create her and she’ll always have part of him. My father always said that bloodlines can tell you a lot about stock. Humans aren't stock, but I think the same applies for them. I hope I’m right, at least for Rochelle’s sake. She deserves all the stars in the sky and so much more. She's my last and my best hope.
~Susan

----

Blyx felt like she could recite the entry word for word. The marker she held in her hands was the very thing that had piqued her curiosity. It had forced the book to buckle around it, creating a space between the pages, even though it was thin as anything. The tiny hospital bracelet had long since lost the pink coloring to the waterproof binding they’d used, in fact it had yellowed over the past twenty-seven years, but the writing on it was clear as day; ‘Baby Girl Ivanova’, her birth date, time she’d been born, weight, and her mother’s name. She watched him read, only offering him the little bracelet when he was done. “She loved you, Xander, so much she put her head up her own ass over it, but that was always Susan.” She breathed with a sad smile and sat back to let him absorb.

His eyes were red and a single tear made its way down his weathered face, filling each wrinkle as it fought its way down to his chin and dropped off into his lap. The small bracelet filled his hand and for the first time in his life, Xander was speechless. His mouth opened to say something, to say anything... but nothing came. Closing his hand around the bracelet, he shut the journal, placing it on the desk and running his empty hand over the monogram on the front, “She was as stubborn as I was,” were the first words that he managed to force out, “I've always done my best to guide Rochelle, because she was a part of Susan... she meant the world to me Blyx.”

"I know and I know. You've always been good to Susan and Rochelle, even after the cluster that went down between you and Marcus." Blyx replied in earnest. "I also know how Rochelle has managed to be both a blessing and a thorn over the years. She's all fire, and what isn't cloaked in fire, is shrouded in ice." She chuckled lightly.

A few light years away, ‘Baby Girl Ivanova’ was dealing with some very big girl problems on a planet known as Atlantis Prime. A world that only a handful of Federation citizens had happened upon before, one steeped with old mythology and traditions that defied the way the young Commodore lived, that wasn't about to just quietly let their ruling monarch disappear to serve the stars. As someone who had once changed their little Queen’s diapers long before she was indoctrinated by their emotionally inept Prince, Blyx knew it was time to protect her as family, but she couldn't do it herself. Atlantis Prime had tipped her off to the trouble they presented the moment they’d demanded her appearance, but what they hadn't realized is that she had an ace hidden up her sleeve and that ace card finally needed to be played when she’d sworn she never would. That ace card was sitting on the other side of her desk, trying to swallow news that should have been delivered to him nearly twenty-eight years ago after Susan had seen two pink lines appear on a little white stick.

It had sunk in... through the years, it had hit deep in the heart of the greying Admiral that sat across the desk, he was a father...


(To Be Continued in Part II-II...)

Admiral Alexander 'Xander' Hark
Commander in Chief
Starfleet Command

&

Admiral Blyx Red
Commanding Officer / Quadrant Commander
Cold Station Theta
Cheydinhall Sector

 

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