Joint Duty Log - Cmdr Ivanova & Nurse Terax (apb Pond) - "Princess and the Pea"

Posted on Mon Jul 28th, 2014 @ 4:18am by Crewman Moriah Terax & Admiral Rochelle Ivanova

921 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: In the Dark

Sleep was a fitful thing, even when avoiding it wasn't an option. It was filled with flashes of sound and light, noises that infiltrated the unconscious psyche, readily toying with the brain that never slept. If anything, the brain was more awake the longer eyelids are kept closed, storing and processing information gathered during the events leading up sleep. For Rochelle there was no difference, her brain worked wildly, storing memories of the moments leading up to her brush with death.

And then?

Pain.

Sharp, brutal, savage pain as her nerves recalled the sensation of dying and the cold that bit savagely at her fingers and exposed skin. The Commander could feel a hand squeezing hers, voices talking over her, tugging her from the abyss of unconsciousness and she woke with a start and a scream. Her arms flailed to protect herself, to search for the man she'd clung to, only for her wrist to collide with a nurse standing at her side. Her eyes flashed open, wild and filled with confusion and panic alike. She was supposed to be dead.

Even with the warning from the Doctor, Moriah was still caught by surprise when Ivanova started. She flinched back when the petite redhead flailed and hit her, her antennae twitching in annoyance — whether with being hit, or with herself for not reacting fast enough, it wasn't clear. She quickly moved on though, leaning forward to gently, but firmly, press the commander back onto the biobed so she wouldn't hurt herself.

"You're safe, ma'am, you're in sickbay on the Vindicator," the Andorian nurse said softly.

Vindicator.

The word came hot and quick through the blinding light. Ivanova's eyes flashed open and immediately she wished she hadn't opened them at all, but soon focused on the insanity of sickbay rushing to try and work on her and... Landon. Laying there, motionless, pale and lifeless aside from the lights and beeps of his monitors declaring him as a member of the living, was Landon. Words still refused to form, her throat dry band rough as gravel, but the flailing stopped as she reached near hyperventilation.

Moriah's eyes darted to the monitors on the commander's biobed, and reached for a mild sedative on the med cart. "It's okay, ma'am, we've got you, and they're doing everything they can for him," she assured, loading the hypospray and pressing it to Ivanova's neck. The device hissed as it administered the medicine.

The drug immediately took affect, forcing Rochelle's heart rate and breathing to even out. Deep in her heart she knew that Landon wouldn't come back, that the Vindicator had been severed from her brave leader -- that she herself would be severed from his touch. She hadn't saved him, she'd fed him to the wolves. Part of her felt relieved to be alive and given another chance, the other part wished she would have died knowing love and freedom. Freedom. Her eyes closed. "If I'm stable," she rasped in a whisper, "send me to my quarters."

"We need to monitor you a little longer, you were DOA," Moriah admitted, even as she realized that perhaps she should have waited to say anything.

The Commander didn't even flinch, "I know." She replied, all too aware of how she'd submitted to Death's masterful hold. The memories of being airborne, of feeling the cold snowy wind parting around her, the feeling of her heart slowing -- she remembered it all so very vividly. "Monitor my life signs from my quarters. You have that ability. It'll free more people up to work on him."

"Oh, I would just be in the way. Everyone else is focused on him," Moriah insisted. "Besides, regulations insist that we keep you in sickbay for observation at least 24, preferably 48 hours."

"You'll be observing me, just from afar." Rochelle managed to roll onto her side, sizing up the Andorian nurse. "Work on him, send me to my quarters."

"We need to observe you from here, so we can react in a timely fashion if something goes wrong." Moriah was starting to get irritated, and her antennae twitched even though she tried to hide it. Bedside manner, she reminded herself, remember your bedside manner.

Rochelle's teeth found her tongue, curbing her desire to make a remark about not caring if something went wrong. The ice of the planet below still held it's fist around her heart, squeezing it, demanding to become one with it. "Have it your way. You won't be on the Vindicator for very much longer." She hissed with a mild cough and rolled over to face Landon, watching them work on him as the sedative beckoned her to close her eyes and forget everything around her.

Moriah sighed, but she wasn't going to back down at the threat. Her first duty was to see to the health and wellness of the crew, including those who may not want it. If it ended with her being transferred elsewhere, so be it. She moved back to give the commander some space, hoping she'd soon fall asleep. If she didn't continue to fight, hopefully the next day of observation would go by quickly and she'd be allowed back to her quarters like she requested. It was impossible to force bed rest when they go back to their quarters, so Moriah did not doubt that the commander would be around the ship trying to do her job soon after being released.

=/\= END LOG =/\=

Commander Rochelle Ivanova
Acting Commanding Officer
USS Vindicator

Crewman Moriah Terax
Nurse
USS Vindicator

 

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