JL | Com Ivanova, Cmdr Archer - "Once Upon A Time In Mexico"

Posted on Sun May 10th, 2015 @ 3:31am by Admiral Rochelle Ivanova & Commander James Archer

1,431 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Agua Mala

Quiet.

It had been days since Rochelle had been allowed to hear the almost unnerving, and yet comforting, sound of relative silence. Relative because of the hum of the Vindicator's auxiliary engines pulsing a steady hum of electricity through every conduit and virtually ever fiber of the ship's integral being, but silence none-the-less. She basked in it, taking the time to tend to one of her trees that she'd been neglecting. Each cut was carefully placed with precision, aimed for tactical advantage when it came to wiring and shaping the plant. Another snip, another small bud of juniper fell away, revealing the path she intended to take when it came down to producing pads. There would never be an end result, the trees were constantly evolving, and the young one she toyed with eventually would wind up being passed down to another generation to care for. Zed, most likely.

Without warning, or the ringing of her chime, the ready room doors hissed open and the staccato of heavy booted footfalls broke that carefully tailored silence. It was fractured even further by the sound, and appearance, of a PADD clattering heavily against the glass top of the Commodore's coffee table as it slid across the surface like a rock across a pond.

"What the Hell, Archer?!" Rochelle, startled from her zen-like state, dropped her pruning sheers, sat up straight, and cradled her hand to her chest. The telltale color of rich sanguine and garnet boasted that she'd clipped the pad of a finger along with a sprig of juniper, thanks to him. Her eyes darted between the man and the PADD that had skipped to a stop just shy of falling to her feet.

Stone faced, James gestured to the PADD; "Pick it up and read it."

An eyebrow shot up at the sound of the Intel officer's voice. "It's going to have to wait while I get this patched up." She replied. "Next time, just send it to me."

"Your finger will be fine. Read the fucking PADD." James retorted, folding his arms sternly, "And if you breathe a word of this to anyone, including your father, I'll have you stripped of command and tossed in a penal colony for the rest of your existence."

The woman's eyes narrowed as she rose from her spot on her couch and made her languid way to the replicator, ordering up an old school bandaid. "Careful, Jimmy, you're starting to kill my good mood." She warned as she peeled off the tabs and wrapped the thing around her bleeding digit. "We already know you have the bigger dick, no contest there." She scoffed, returning to the coffee table and retrieving the PADD. Pressing her hand to the surface, she turned it on and skimmed through the information presented until she understood the general context. "And I'm supposed to care..." Her arm extended, handing the device back in his direction, "why, exactly? Hasn't been that big of a secret that you're more than just the average idiot ghost lurking in the shadows. Anyone who pays attention to genetics and can connect the dots gets that." Nonchalance was a fitting description of how the firebird approached the situation, even if the spook had managed to kindle her ire.

"Why you need to care?" He asked, "Let me enlighten you." James drawled. "With the information you know now, I demand answers. Like why I exhausted resources to take care of a problem only for it to resurface." His weight shifted from one hip to the other as his eyebrows lifted in silent demand of her response.

"And what problem would that be?" She asked. Tossing the PADD back onto the coffee table when she realized he wasn't going to take it from her. It nearly clobbered the young bonsai as it flew.

"Don't play stupid." The Intel officer deadpanned with a small shake of his head.

She knew all too well what 'issue' he referred to, the same one so many seemed so discontent with. The same one that had burned Almar, the same one that had conjured her father's disapproval even if he'd never openly voice it, the same one that had seemingly darkened Amelia's eye a bit, and left Andrea riddled with concern. Landon. "The issue has been remedied." She replied, "I don't have answers, but sources say they're no longer on any radar. Not even the bounty hunters lining Theta's bars will look at them."

James was starting to be visibly frustrated, "That doesn't make this OK, Rochelle. Seriously, there's no good that can come from this and marrying him definitely isn't going to make matters any better. I called in every favor I had to get them off this ship and under the radar. You asked me, hell you practically begged me to help you and I did. Now you let his worm ridden ass back on board! Do you realize the stress this shit has put on you and your crew? Is your head so far up your ass that you can't see it or do you not care?"

A thin brow hiked its way higher up on her forehead as she watched and listened to the dark haired officer begin to rant and rave. "Is that racism I hear? I think it is." Rochelle snorted disdainfully, dismissing the rest of his so called argument with a flippant wave of her hand. "Like him or not, Archer, he belongs on the Vindicator until I'm told otherwise by HQ and so far? Not a peep." She added, turning away from him to retrieve a tissue and offered it up, "Take it for when you start foaming at the mouth here in a second because here's where I get real. Captain Landon Neyes isn't going anywhere. Admiral Hark is well aware of the situation and all aspects of it including my pending nuptials. Now... If you have a complaint or problem, I ask that you submit it to me for the command team's consideration just like everyone else on this ship. No one has special privileges regardless of who they are, and in your case, aren't." The redhead smiled sweetly in diplomatic retort. Andrea would be proud.

"No one, except for Mr. Neyes," James rebutted. "And I think it's wonderful that you managed to tug on Daddy's ear to allow a non family member who holds no political office or civilian job in Starfleet but is the source of relative discontent, to live aboard this ship. It's irresponsible and selfish on your part, Skipper. You may be a Commodore, Rochelle, but you still have a shit tonne of growing up to do." James turns towards the door to leave, "Just so we're all on the same page, you and your bridegroom, have spent your favors with Intel."

"Oh! While we're trading information and going tit for tat about favors..." Rochelle made her way to the shining surface of her desk, "I figure I may as well let you know that your quarters have been moved down to Deck 8. Two Admirals were quite adamant about you having more room, and since I'm so very awful when it comes to fair and special treatment, I gave in to their demands." Her smile only seemed to broaden, "Had your belongings moved late this morning under the supervision of your mumsy." A single hand unfurled with a PADD hanging precariously from it.

"The fuck are you talking about," James queried, turning towards the red head, who had this look on her face like the cat that ate the canary. "Why would my mother ask to have my quarters moved to the family deck? My old quarters were plenty large enough."

"Can't say. Favors and privileges and all that." She practically yawned, jingling the PADD in his direction.

James shook his head in disgust, walked back towards Rochelle, and took the PADD, "I emphasize on the growing up." Having glanced over it, he tossed it on Rochelle's desk. "I'll be in my quarters."

The only response she'd receive would be the sound of a chuckle blending with the scrape of fabric against the leather of her seat as she took up a roost behind her desk. Fighting with him was fruitless. Watching him huff and puff like a spoiled two year old, however, was usually priceless. The topic, however, was one she'd need to bring up with Amelia and Almar when the soonest chance reared its head.


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

and

Commander James Archer
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS VINDICATOR NCC 78213-E

 

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