SD241807.03 | Lacuna - JL | Com Ivanova, Cmdr Dahe'el | "You can't take the sky from me..." pt 1/5

Posted on Sat Feb 18th, 2023 @ 6:59pm by Admiral Rochelle Ivanova & Commander Almar Dahe'el

1,745 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Lacuna
Timeline: BACKLOG

Another chance for some alone time with Rochelle was approaching and Almar was wanting to make this one something special, he’d chosen the holodeck again as it allowed him a greater level of customisation than anything else, he’d spent hours meticulously studying and programming to ensure it was as accurate as possible. “Computer, save program state and hold until my next command,” the Cardassian stated as he moved to perch himself on the table that spread itself through the middle of the room, it was a large, heavy oak dining table with several rough cut chairs sat around it, the room itself was composed of bare metal deck plating, the lights flickered and the atmosphere was augmented by a subtle thrum of an engine off in the distance.

He'd pulled the imagery from something in the archives listed as a television show from the 21st Century of Earth. It had been an extremely interesting thing to watch, in parts it was violent beyond belief but it was rife with adventure and Almar had been able to program the computer to extrapolate and create a unique scenario for them to play through.

The invitation had been nothing more than a suggestion whispered against her neck, something about it being 'fun' and 'right up her alley'. Turning Almar down for anything was a near impossibility - especially when it gave her a chance to unwind and be something other than the 'Commodore' for a moment or two. That had been why she'd been so willing to shirk her high polished duty boots for her well broken in and scuffed up pair of ropers and set off towards the holodeck.

When at last she arrived she was instantly met with what appeared to be typical old Western... Everything... Sort of. The door slid closed behind her, leaving the redhead to continue on with a sense of trepidation. Steel met old hard wood, worn from use. Somewhere beyond she could hear the thrum of an engine far less refined than the Vindicator's - but there at the other side of that classic table stood the one thing that made sense, "So we're playing cowboys and aliens?" She asked, resting her hands against the back of one of the chairs and quirked an eyebrow skyward.

"I can't recall any aliens in the shows I watched, so I'll be the only one," the Cardassian replied as he turned to face her with a bright smile, he was dressed in a pair of tight, light brown slacks held up with a pair of leather suspenders and a burgundy shirt could be seen below the heavy brown duster he wore. Across his hips lay a loose belt which held a holster filled with a pistol and his outfit was completed with a pair of long leather boots, scuffed and dirtied but comfortable at the same time.

"Guess you will be." She nodded, smudging the toe of one of her boots against the deck, her eyes averting to study them. At the end of the day, her more modern idea of 'western attire' stuck out as a sore thumb - perhaps as much as a Cardassian would in a room full of humans. Not that she'd ever really considered, or acknowledged, the fact that he was alien. Almar was Almar. Loved regardless of heritage, accepted just the same. She had to smirk at the thought and let it slide all the same. "Nice get up, I'd guess early 1800s, but..." The toe tapped against the metal with a resounding thud of hard leather sole against steel, "They didn't do the spaceship thing back then, and if they did they did a damn good job of hiding them because this sure as hell isn't an old Confederate iron clad with head room like this."

"That would be an impressive sight to see," Almar replied with a chuckle, "We're in a work of fiction from the 21st Century, something called Firefly." he added as he moved across the room to her and gave a wide gesture, "and this is our ship, Serenity, apparently named for a battle my character was involved in, on the losing side, I might add."

"The losing side." Rochelle parroted with a nod, folding her arms across her chest. "Go on, you have my curiosity." The sound of grit between her boots heralded the fact she was moving long before she ever took that shuffled step that allowed her to rest her hip against the table rather than have her lean on the chair. Ankles crossed, she motioned for him to proceed with his explanation. Her eyes glittered with bright amusement.

"Well, this is a Human universe, no sign of aliens, they used up "Earth that was," and struck out into the stars to seek new worlds to colonize, they found a number of systems with lots of planets and moons and set about terraforming. Once they were settled, the central planets formed The Alliance and sought to bring everyone under their form of governance. The outer planets wanted to remain free and a bloody war broke out, the character I'm taking on today was a soldier on the side of the Independents, also known as the Browncoats. They lost after a decisive battle on a planet called Hera, the site of the battle was Serenity Valley." the Cardassian replied as he recalled the research he'd done, "The Independents lost the war and were scattered to the outer planets."

"And here we are." She nodded, grasping at understanding, "And you said this was all a TV show way back in the day?" How uncanny that humans would be almost prophetic of the strife seen, felt, and heard on a daily basis some three to four-hundred years in the future. They'd always been somewhat psychic like that, understanding that which couldn't be seen. Earth hadn't been 'used up', but it certainly had its fair measure of problems and likely would have been destroyed had the Vulcans not showed up. Ancient history now. "I take it there's still drama and a war to be won?"

"Drama yes, war not so much, but life on the outer planets isn't as easy as it is on the core planets, they weren't developed as much and were left with just the basics, so they're much more... rustic." Almar replied with a slight chuckle as he nodded along with her comments, "In this particular, my character, Malcolm Reynolds has a ship and a crew and they try to find work, legal or illegal and keep flying,"

"Rustic..." Rochelle repeated, an eyebrow climbing skywards, "How rustic are we talking about? Judging by your attire we're about to go thwart cattle rustlers and start panning for gold." It was looking much less like a game of Cowboys and Aliens and much more like something Dani would have concocted in a holodeck were she feeling a bit like partying down at the O.K. Corral. She'd have been lying if she said she wasn't both intrigued and amused by the ingenuity shown. "Alright. I'll bite, Almar, just forgive me for not being familiar with the lay of the land."

"There may actually be some cattle rustling to do..." Almar's smile was bright against the dull metallic background of the ship, "Are you sure you've not heard of this before?" he added as he moved away from the table and faced her fully, "Some of these planets are extremely rustic, some don't have electricity or much running water," the Cardassian chuckled again.

"Pretty sure." She nodded, reaching to sweep her hair back into a messy bun. If they were chasing cows across some rough planet she'd need to keep her eye on the prize and not behind a tangle of copper. Shoving off from the table with her hip, the diminutive woman countered and met him with arms folded across her chest, "Am I supposed to be scared?" She asked with a smirk.

"Nope, just letting you know what we're in for when we're planetside," he replied as he began to move towards one of the exits of the room and towards it's bridge, "Computer, start program." he commanded and in an instant there were additional sounds around them, a crew to be commanded by them, "We're also not alone out here, we have a crew, for you I've added you in to this story as my partner in this venture, usually Captain Reynolds is alone at the top."

Sidestepping a wayward crew member, Rochelle managed to fall in stride with the Cardassian. With every step it became more apparent that the ship they were on was in no way comparable to the Vindicator. She was rough, near broken, but... Well loved. Well loved was a decent description of the rustic space bucket, "Alone at the top, huh? No pesky XO to tell him when he's about to do stupid?" She gave him a sidelong glance complete with the very wryest of smirks, "What a lucky bastard. But seriously... Trust issues? Ego?"

"Oh no, he does have a second in command, Zoe, and she's not afraid of telling him when he's doing something stupid but they're old friends, fought in the war together, a lot of history," Almar replied as they moved through the corridor in which the ladders down to the main crew quarters were held, "Besides, she's married to Wash, our pilot, it'd be a bit odd, which is why I had you written in."

"I'd much rather not be married to a fictitious character if I can help it." The redhead muttered in response, keeping time as best she could while her eyes roved along the details of the corridor. Always the tactician at heart, she was calculating, measuring, mapping... Plotting. The new atmosphere gave her mind a chance to expand and wander, gathering new intel and aligning it with multiple scenarios in which that particular bit of info could be used to her, or their, advantage. It was compelling to say the least, but the more he spoke the more sure of her chosen course of action she readily became. His words were inflow, feeding a building storm and that storm would strike the moment it was absolutely certain she could get away with it. "How many decks?" She asked, "She seems... Quaint."


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To Be Continued...
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Commodore Rochelle Ivanova
Commanding Officer
USS VINDICATOR, NX-78213-F

Commander Almar Dahe'el
Executive Officer
USS VINDICATOR, NX-78213-F

 

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