Joint Log - Captain Rochelle Ivanova, Cmdr James Archer - Safe to Shore

Posted on Sun Aug 17th, 2014 @ 7:23pm by Admiral Rochelle Ivanova & Commander James Archer

1,319 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: In the Dark

As soon as she left the arms of her last dance partner, Admiral Waterhouse, Rochelle slipped through tall glass doors and out onto the balcony, closing it firmly behind her. The band struck up another waltz and in shutting out the seductive strains she all but craved, she also shut out the tormenting demons of her traitorous heart -- memories of romance, dreams of love... Landon. But the music was still audible, and all the sweeter for being heard without the distraction of the ballroom.

Without warning, the constant ache in her chest savagely twisted the knife blade, leaving her heart skipping and her breath short while the hot summer wind blew drizzle across the freckled bridge of her nose and dusted her cheeks. She hugged herself for comfort as she stood motionless while the sharp pang subsided -- another secret, another lie. Far off lightning flashed, illuminating the sky as she heard the faintest click of the doors behind her. "What can I do for you, Commander?" She asked, not bothering to look up - Archer's reflection wavered in the puddle near her feet.

Decked out in his dress uniform, James held out a glass, "I know you don't usually drink, and I don't know what kind of juice you like, soooo I brought you a glass of water." Giving a wry smirk, "I figured you may be a little thirsty after all that dancing."

Rochelle pivoted to face him, sighing as she took the glass from the notoriously sharp witted intel officer. "Thank you." She offered, lifting the glass to her lips for a sip, "it's turning into a debutante ball more than an awards ceremony." The redhead quipped, reaching to brush an errant strand of humidity loosed hair from her eyes.

James chuckled, "I've never been one for the military dog and pony shows." Taking a sip of his own drink, "However, I can understand the need for this event. Morale, in the fleet, is at an all time low. Everything we've fought for and people have died for is in turmoil. Have to tell the troops that everything will, eventually, be OK."

"That seems to be the theme of the night." So far so many had lost their lives in the name of this twisted civil war. Highly publicized executions had punctuated the turmoil, adding to the caustic nature of the atmosphere they all lived in -- and then there was Vindicator, still reeling from the blow of losing their brave Captain and now coming to terms with the coronation of a new one; her. "I have to admit, had I known I'd be dancing with every eligible bachelor and then some, I'd have played hooky."

"I know the feeling. My parents are here and my mother keeps asking me, 'When are you going to finally get married? I want grandchildren before I'm too old to enjoy them,' and she keeps pointing out the women to me, like I can't see them or something." In a mocking voice, "And don't tell me you don't have time for a family. Your father is an Admiral who commanded one of the largest fleets in Star Fleet and he found time to have children."

"I didn't want to remind her of the number of possible illegitimate half siblings I may have in this galaxy," He paused a moment having realized he exposed part of his humanity, "I'm sorry, Captain, I'm babbling."

The Captain couldn't help but chuckle at his antics, "No, you're not. You're making a valid point, but your parents only want the very best for their little boy," She tutted with a wink, shaking her head and taking another sip of her water, "In a way I envy you, Commander, at least your have your parents." The sly smile that graced her features was best reserved for a cat, one weaseling their way into some horrendous punchline most likely involving a canary -- it was her own way of glossing over the fact that she'd come to terms with her mother's disappearance long long ago. "Besides, your daddy is a very important man. It's only natural he and mommy want you to continue to immortalize the name of Archer."

"I guess you can say that. Though it sometimes feels that they only wants what's best for the name of Archer." James can't help but chuckle, "I guess that's why I can sometimes be a 'Smarmy bastard.'"

"But that's just your charm" The younger woman teased, emphasizing the latter word of the sentence. She'd heard many mouths use the word 'smarmy' to describe the dashing spy, Amelia being the most prolific user of it as of late. Part of her had agreed emphatically with it, but while she had her doubts about how genuine the man could be, she knew him to be honest and loyal to Starfleet. At the end of the day it didn't matter what personality flaws he may or may not have had, it only mattered that he served well and would defend the ship and fleet if need be. That, and his amusingly unpredictable nature, were his saving graces as far as she was concerned. "I've come to learn long ago that you are not your name. History will repeat itself, for better or worse, if you allow it to. I prefer to pave my own way and set my own stars." Rochelle mused, studying the man before her for what he was worth beyond being a thorn in her side. He was human after all.

"Look, we are in this for the long haul. All joking a side, we have got to get a long. I know I may come off as boorish, but it's my way of dealing with, "James motions to the two Admirals that are currently dancing away to the current song, "them. Don't get me wrong, I love my parents, but for fuck's sake, they drive me fucking crazy."

A single sanguine brow raised high over an ice blue eye. The city bustled on below them, sirens blaring from passing taxis and cars alike as she listened and weighed his words. At mention of his parents, she followed his gesture and observed the happy looking Admirals making the floor theirs for the moment. Rochelle sighed, nodding as a first response, then drew her breath again, "Commander, you and I will get along fine provided you don't make a mockery of this ship or your position on her." She said softly, giving up her position by the rail to close the gap between them, "I believe it's likely we got off on the wrong foot and I have hope that the situation won't repeat itself. We're human, we cast judgment and we make mistakes. It's our nature, right?"

"We do," James replied as he watched his parents dance away.

"They're a rarity." Rochelle sighed, watching him watch the brass dance, "What they have there is one of the biggest reasons why we're fighting this war against First Fed, they'd see it destroyed if they had their way."

"If you will excuse me, Captain. I have something I need to do. I will be taking a runabout for about a week or so. Oh and I need about 1 million gold pressed latinum." James straightened and gave his uniform jacket the 'Picard Tug' as he dismissed himself. James made his way past his parents without saying a word and left the party.

Blinking, Rochelle raised an eyebrow and shook her head. "Fucking Intel." Was all she could mutter under her breath. Just when she thought she'd made a bit of a break through, the man was quick to dash away into the night like a rabbit. Someday she'd understand. Today, however, wasn't that day and tomorrow wasn't looking good either.

---

Captain Rochelle Ivanova
Commanding Officer
USS VINDICATOR

Commander James Maxwell Archer
Starfleet Inelligence
USS VINDICATOR

 

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