SD242110.22 | [PLOT] President Ravnsson, Fleet Admiral Red, Lieutenant Stacker | "Hallowed Be Thy Name"

Posted on Mon Feb 20th, 2023 @ 12:26am by Admiral Rochelle Ivanova & Lieutenant Si'a Dai'xun Shran & Lieutenant Craig MacLeod

1,937 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Genesis
Timeline: BACKLOG

The first thing Valeese realized upon the re-sparking of her conscious mind was the fact that everything hurt. Her eyes, her fingers, her ears… Even the tips of her hair... Hurt.

The second thing that began to dawn upon her still stunned mind were words and phrases like ‘resisting arrest’ and ‘probable cause’ that echoed and swirled within her head as the wee Vorta slowly stirred towards full consciousness. Slowly, the darkness began to fade to bruised purple, red, orange, and finally a rather unbearable level of light that sent blood pounding against her skull. Regardless, she was undeniably awake and all too aware of the hard bunk beneath her heavily pregnant body.

The brig was no place for a woman at her gestation. That was a thought that resounded over and over again, cemented by a slow, practiced hand soothing over her belly. No harm, at least that she could tell, had befallen the child within her - but the situation was dire nonetheless. The following morning was supposed to mark the beginning of her maternity leave. Instead of checking out and leaving her office in the capable hands of her nurses and stand-in visiting physician, she’d been publicly humiliated and wrenched from behind her desk. The sensation of being stunned was still vivid and fresh.

How had it gone from ‘What is going on? Why am I being arrested?! Desi, call my husband!' to being stunned and dropped to the floor like a sack of bricks?

Pushing herself up to sit, the woozy little Vorta brushed hair from her face and peered out against obnoxiously bright lights to gain her bearings. At least she wasn’t alone, that much was painfully apparent, by the sound of a rather commanding female voice arguing in low, hushed tones with one far more gruff and decidedly masculine in nature.

“You know damned well that Ivanova wasn’t murdered by some bullshit terror cell. You know damned fucking well that none of the people you’ve accused would ever do a Gods damned thing to injure her.”

“The evidence will come to pass, Admiral, I don’t make accusations I can’t back up.”

“You’re a fucking slimeball, Ravnsson. There’s not a chance in hell you’re getting away with this bullshit. For fuck’s sake, you really expect them to believe that she had a damned thing to do with it all the way from Theta?!”

The Vorta’s ears pricked in the direction of the woman, recognizing that she was being talked about. Disoriented as she was, Valeese was hardly capable of maintaining her balance, let alone join in on the discussion at hand to defend herself.

Blyx, by comparison, was anything but disoriented. She was bright eyed, bushy tailed, and sincerely pissed off. The only thing that kept the savage of a woman from throttling the smug bastard of an el-Aurian in front of her was the knowledge of the forcefield between them. All it would take was a power grid glitch and she’d have been at his throat, slowly draining the life from him. Then he’d have his murder and cause to put her in holding. “She can’t give birth in here. She should be kept confined to her quarters or sickbay.” She hissed.

“Not my problem, Admiral. Vorta have always been manipulative and divisive beasts. She cannot be trusted.” The man of smoke and ash may well have been speaking with a child with how hushed and elementary his tone was. There was certainly no way of hiding the way he gloated and found true joy in having finally captured such rare creatures. Valeese, of course, being a Vorta and Blyx, of course, being the pinnacle of Starfleet’s pride. His eyes cast towards the barely sitting creature, watching her as she slowly regained her faculties. “She shouldn’t have resisted arrest.” He tutted, shaking his head, “Bad things come to bad people. I believe you yourself once were quoted as saying ‘play stupid games, win stupid prizes,” His eyes shifted back to the Admiral, “Isn’t that right?”

“You should heed that advice, Ravnsson. Take it as fucking gospel,” Blyx’s lip curled and her arms folded tight across her chest, “Asking questions is hardly fucking resisting arrest and you know it. That will come out in trial and you’ll look like the complete shit bag you are for authorizing excessive force against a woman in her LAST month of pregnancy.”

“A Vorta.” He corrected, holding up a single finger to mark his point.

“A decorated Starfleet Officer!” The Admiral snapped sharply, “It doesn’t matter what race she is, she’s a decorated Starfleet Officer who has served the Federation with dignity, grace, and loyalty. She is innocent until proven guilty and your goons arrested her without telling her what for.” Her hands slapped against her thighs and she barked out an incredulous laugh, “Even you have to see how fucking assinine this is!”

Ravnsson slowly brought his eyes back to address the Admiral, and in them shone a sense of mirth that shouldn’t have belonged in such a place at such a time. The brig was a place of pain and hardship, where dreams went to die and people seldom surfaced with a sense of normalcy. He knew this, and certainly knew that in the end nothing would be truly ‘normal’ ever again for anyone involved. In fact, he counted on it. “Says the bird in a cage squawking over how vermin are handled.”

“Vermin.” Blyx snorted, “I can’t wait for the people to see the real you, Ravnsson.”

“You know, dear, if you had stuck to your own lane, there’s a good chance your niece and ex-husband would still be alive.” He mused out loud, watching his quarry for any sign of reaction to his words and the insinuations behind them, “You made it far too easy to take Dunross out of the game. You made him weak and while he tore off to avenge you, to end the faction that attacked you here on your own station,” The el-Aurian gestured around them for added effect, driving his point home, “you chose infidelity. Some hero you are”

It stung, but she’d never admit it. Not to the bastard’s face. “You know nothing about Aleksandr Dunross. You’ll never be in the same league as that man.”

“Oh?” Ravnsson’s eyebrows rose high, furrowing his forehead with a look of genuine surprise. It swiftly faded only to be replaced by a smile most Cheshire in nature, “Aleksandr Dunross was dying while you were fucking a different Alexander, an Admiral, no less. I would say that puts me in a league above the poor bastard considering my miserable bitch of a wife didn’t set me up to fall.” He chuckled, “You made it easy to bring him to his knees, Blyx, distracted and blinded by anger as he was. I suppose I should thank you for that. You made this entire thing come to fruition so very easily, and you truly think you don't belong right where you are?” A chuckle rolled deep in his chest as his head shook, “Hopefully Hark isn’t as unlucky as that poor son of a bitch, eh?”

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Blyx roared, lunging towards the man and stopping just short of hitting the force field that both contained her and spared him from the physical ramifications of her wrath. While the possibility of Alek being dead was one that had always been tucked into the back of her mind, it was easier for her to believe that he’d chosen to vanish when things had become too domestic for him. They’d been happy, they’d made it work, and she was well aware of her own shortcomings and failings as a wife and as a person. Alek had already deserted her once, and tensions had been high between him and their daughter. It was easier to be angry and resentful over the unknown than it was to mourn the death of someone that had been larger than life and so very loved, even if he had been so very rough around the edges.

To hear that he was dead, or rather to have his death confirmed, tore at her in ways very little did. To have Xander threatened in the same breath erased all sense of propriety and poise that she had managed to hold onto and, without fail, she instantly hated her own guts for giving Ravnsson the response he wanted.

Valeese on the other hand, only felt for the woman in front of her and knew she only had seconds to act before the fearsome Shrike came completely and totally unglued in front of the bastard. In those seconds she managed to get up and take hold of the flailing Admiral, tugging her away from the force field and from Ravnsson, “Stop! He’s not worth it!” She called out, embracing the other woman and peering over her shoulder at their adversary, “He’s not… worth it.” Never had she ever felt true hate for another living individual, but hate was a word that now crept along her veins, adding heat and ire where once only peace and calm had resided.

On the other side of the forcefield, Ravnsson’s cold gray eyes met the shockingly vibrant and warm purple of the Vorta’s. If gazes alone could kill, he’d have withered away and likely fallen victim had it not been for the tinge of compassion and sadness that blossomed in those fathomless irises. “You ladies enjoy your evening. I am to have your trials begin just as soon as everyone else is apprehended. Vindicator docks tonight, you won’t have to wait long.”

“Whatever,” Blyx hissed, allowing herself to be held and contained by the doctor.

The two of them stood there, watching as the gray one left them to their own devices beneath the watchful eyes of several guards. He’d be long gone before the pair of them sank to the floor in disbelief and perhaps even despair.

“He killed Alek…” Blyx whimpered, reaching to rub her forehead, “He had me attacked, he killed Alek… He killed Rochelle. Now this… Xander… Your child...” Her hand shook with pure adrenaline and her stomach began to somersault as she began to connect the dots. “I was blind.” They all deserved so much better.

Rubbing slow circles between the Admiral’s shoulder blades, Valeese could almost feel the pain and anger radiating off the woman, “He’ll atone for his sins, Admiral. One way or another.” Oh how hollow those words sounded to her sensitive ears. Oh how she wished she could have offered the other woman something more, but more wasn’t available and she found herself feeling far more lost than she’d have liked to admit.

It was there, sitting in silence with the grieving Admiral, that the Vorta began to pray to whatever God was listening that someone would find a way to fix this, to right as many of the wrongs that could be righted. She prayed that her Ghost was out there, working to end what needed to be ended in order for them all to walk away and begin to heal - and soon, before more tragedy could befall them.

---

Commodore Aksel Ravnsson
President
United Confederation of Interstellar Planets

Fleet Admiral Blyx O. Red
Commander, Beta Quadrant
Starfleet

Lieutenant Valeese Stacker
Chief Medical Officer
Cold Station Theta

 

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