PLOT - JDL | Com Ivanova, Cmdr Waterhouse, Cmdr Archer, LtJG Charlson, LtJG Black, Ens Barnes, MCPO Caine, Kyym - "High Tide, B5, You Sunk My Battleship" PT II/II

Posted on Wed Apr 1st, 2015 @ 4:32pm by Admiral Rochelle Ivanova & Fleet Admiral Blyx Red & Commander Amelia Waterhouse & Commander Logan Grant, PhD. & Commander James Archer & Lieutenant JG Teá Black & Ensign & Master Chief Petty Officer Rik Caine & Admiral Alexander Hark

2,303 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: A Spot To Kill

Teá's medical expertise was severely limited — it was really just enough to keep herself alive until she could find someone who could do better than herself. So she did the one thing she knew she could do well and that was protection; she quickly moved herself in between any Atlantean and the two admirals in the room.

Stinging. Burning. Surprise. It all flashed through Rochelle's mind soon after the flash of hands and robes startled her into taking a precarious step back from Kyym. The searing zip of a blade against flesh, her flesh, came a fraction of a second before the air was forced from her lungs and her body took flight from the Atlantean's crippling blow to her abdomen and the lack of room between her placement and the edge of the platform. She couldn't even scream as her hair whipped forward and her body fell from the platform with how her undoubtedly broken ribs refused to allow her lungs to inflate after the initial shock. Hitting the hard stone floor below, however, left her closing her eyes and preparing for an impact that would undoubtedly render her unconscious — it never came. Instead she hit something a lot softer, and a lot sooner, than her mind had figured into the equation. Amelia. Hanging there in her friend's arms, she choked on a forced breath and her fingers flew to her bleeding throat, bumping Amelia's as they sought to feel the split skin below. "Alive." She managed to croak as they sunk to the floor. The wound wasn't gushing enough to warrant concern about her jugular, but it was there, bleeding heavily, and spanning the front of her throat just south of her chin.

"Shit...." Was the only word that escaped Lily's lips as she ran over to the injured Commodore, and slinging her medical rucksack off her shoulders. Since most of the doctors and nurses preferred to stay on the ship, and also factoring in her experience as a paramedic, she had been designated the Security away teams field medic, for use of a better term. She was also taking extra time to learn more techniques from the Doctors on board the ship. "Well you're alive. That's a good start!" She said, keeping her voice low, so only Rochelle and Amelia could hear her. "It's quite deep, but not deep enough to be any damage to the jugular, and I don't think there's any damage to the windpipe or anything. Commander, can you apply some pressure to the area for me?" She asked, unzipping her bag and taking out some of her equipment to clean the wound, and at least try to stem the bleed. Lily looked over to Teá. "Get a hold of sickbay, tell them to prepare for a deep laceration to the Commodores throat, she's bleeding quite heavily, so they might need to get some bloods for a transfusion. And tell them we need her transported straight to sickbay!" She said.

Amelia shifted where she was applying pressure as directed by Charlson. A small smile turned a corner of her lips, watching the junior officer see to the care of Rochelle quickly and professionally. She looked up and around, taking a breath to start issuing orders now that Rochelle was seen to, only to see that Admiral Red was already moving to do just that. The willowy redhead knew better than to get in the way of that firestorm — let the Shrike handle things.

"Oh God..." Blyx gasped and pushed past Teá. Watching Rochelle fall from the platform had effectively stopped the Admiral's heart, and no sign of life was seen before Waterhouse brought them to the floor, cradling the little Commodore while members of the crew and court swarmed. "Get back!" She yelled, opening her hands as a barricade, "Let them work and let her breathe!" Peeking over her shoulder, Blyx could see Rochelle moving, feeling her throat, trying to find air again. The gravelly sound of her voice announcing the fact she was living meant her jugular hadn't been cut or nicked, she'd be alright if they could just get her home. Hitting her combadge she heard only static interference in response, punctuated by a sharp squelch that told her both Illustrious and Vindicator were watching and working on the situation, that too many combadges had gone off trying to direct traffic down to beaming the wounded Commodore back to her ship while Caine tore the renegade Atlantean down. Her eyes darted through the crowd, trying her best to find Hark over the tall shoulders of the bronze people in hopes of alerting him that his daughter was stable. "Archer..." She mused, she needed the pain in the ass Intel officer, "ARCHER!" She bellowed over the crowd, hoping he'd appear.

James, standing in the doorway of the throne room, scanned the room and performed a check list. Medic on scene. Rochelle alive. Kyym detained and arrested. None of these Bronzed skinned fools are making a move. "Yes, ma'am," he acknowledged.

"Stay with the Commodore until medical is done with her, once she's resting give me an update. Business down here isn't finished, but it can be conducted from her bedside. If you haven't already been picking your old man's brain, I'll be calling for him to meet us at Cold Station Theta. We're out of here as soon as she's named a regent and porter." Blyx clapped her hand on the taller man's shoulder, hoping to convey the importance of her orders and trusting that he'd obey even though he hardly had to. "Waterhouse will stay down here until we either turn Kyym over to the authorities or whatever Admiral Hark decides to do with her." Blyx's lips pursed as she quickly shot a glance to where Caine had the Atlantean pinned to the platform floor.

"He's already at the station waiting for us," Jame acknowledged as he hurried across to Rochelle's side. "Ensigns Barnes and Black? Head back to Liberty and stand by in case we have to use her to get the Commodore back to the ship. Charlson, is the Skipper stable enough for us to use the transporter?"

"She should be, I just need to check a few more...." Lily trailed off, finding Rochelle's pulse on her neck, while measuring her breathing. "Shit, transporters a no go, she's going into shock, the transporter would just make it worse...how close is the Liberty?" She asked, taking a vial of Melorazine from her pack's pouch, fitting it into the hypospray. "This is gonna put you to sleep for a while boss, just means we can keep you with us for longer." She said, placing the hypospray to the CO's neck, and injecting the chemical into her bloodstream. Looking up she shouted. "Right, I need a few strong men, a makeshift stretcher and the quickest path to the Liberty we can get!" She then turned to Amelia. "She's fine Commander, I've just put her to sleep, her heart was beating too fast, and if it'd kept going it could have gotten worse than it already is, right now, we just need to worry about getting her off the planet, onto the Liberty, and up to the Vindicator, then it's over to the doc's to do their job." She said, putting a reassuring hand onto Amelia's back.

Rocky was stunned when the Atlantean woman stabbed the Commodore, bringing the phaser rifle up to cover others who might try to harm her. Hearing Archer's order and seeing that others were tending to Ivanova, she turned and quickly headed back to the runabout.

Teá just nodded flipping her type II phase around so she was holding onto the end that fires and handing it to a security officer that had a Mk I carbine. "Thanks." She quickly said rushing out of the throne room and out into the courtyard and finally down to the Liberty, "Liberty secured." She said over her badge to Archer.

Amelia nodded to Charlson's explanation as she gently laid Rochelle on the floor. Two Atlantean men, ones who Amelia hadn't seen around when Kyym had been running the show, stepped forward with a flat board and looked to her for permission to approach. Amelia eyed them both carefully, an eyebrow raised in question; she received a respectful bow of the head from each, and their gaze fell to their small fiery queen with concern. Amelia stepped aside and waved them forward. They looked to Charlson for direction on how she wanted Rochelle transferred to the board.

"Roll her and push the board under!" Lily said, pushing the board under Rochelle. Then directing the two of them, one to grab the head end of the board, and the other to grab the foot end. "Right, lets go, quick as we can!" Lily said, directing the men to follow her to the Liberty.

As Charlson and the men saw Rochelle to the Liberty, Amelia stepped up to the throne's platform and looked across the sea of faces. "Who here can get me a list of recommendations for regent and porter for me to present your Queen when she wakes again after receiving medical attention?" she demanded, and her eyes focused on Imrol Kessek. The man that left Rik in such a ragged state after going to collect him, the man who clearly was not one that Kyym wanted to speak with Rochelle, and a man well versed in the Atlantean law — enough that he'd been recommended by Lieutenant Calhoun. "Mr Kessek?" Amelia's head tilted slightly to the left as she addressed him.

Imrol Kessek had been lost that day, lost in his own world of sorrow and pain that had come about from trusting a stranger with kind eyes and an intoxicating determination. The man had called himself Rik Caine, a force of nature, like a kite in the wind. That day Imrol had been given hope, the chance to fight tyranny and save his people. The price? The death of his only boy. As the commotion unfolded he had remained, slumped, on the chair Caine had set him upon and nursed the relatively minor physical injuries he had sustained, lost to his thoughts. Caine had saved him, he owed him for that. Part of him wanted to lash out though, blame Caine, blame Starfleet for the loss… but as he thought and looked at the commotion through red, teary eyes he could only blame one person. Her. The woman who had destroyed his life and who had threatened to destroy his world. He stood up, slowly, and limping a little ran his hands through his dirty tussled grey hair as he moved towards the redhead who had addressed him. "I… I can." His words were cracked under the emotion but he knew he had a role to play, to make the death of his boy not in vein. "I will." He added before slumping back down on the chair, the weight of the physical and mental injury taking its toll on the elder Atlantean.

Rik looked over from his position on the platform, one eye still on the treacherous woman that had just been arrested. He couldn’t help but allow a small, reassuring smile and inclination of his head as he caught Imrol's eye who returned the nod in kind.

"Then do it!" Hark commanded as he moved from the position he had flown to next to Rochelle when she had hit the deck, "All Starfleet personnel, including Commodore Ivanova, will return to their respective ships until such a time our business is to be conducted." He added with a lump in his throat at the thought that they had to return here.

Amelia's eyes swept the room, meeting those of the rest of the Vindicator crew, as if to confirm that they were prepared to follow the Commander in Chief's orders. Her eyes found those of Rik Caine's last. She quickly swallowed the lump in her throat that formed as she once again took in the state he'd been left in from retrieving Imrol Kessek.

"Mr. Caine, prepare your prisoner for transport. She shall await the Commodore's recovery in the brig and the decision of which justice system she'll face first," she directed with a look at the Atlantean woman. "All Vindicator crew, standby for transport."

Rik caught Amelia's eye and nodded in acknowledgement with a smile. By this point, the disruptor wound had re-opened and the blood was saturating the mustard yellow undershirt that he was wearing. He checked the cuffs, patted her forcefully on the broken arm and ensured that Kyym was ready for transport directly to the brig by affixing a transponder to her clothes. "Secure and ready for transport." He said. With that done, Rik slumped down and lay on the platform, the blood loss starting to make him weary. The adrenaline finally wearing off now they'd won. "We've won right? Alright, yay! Go us! Let's just not come in tomorrow, let's just take a day. Anyone tried shwarma? I don't know what it is, but I want to try it." Rik said wearily to no one in particular.

=/\= End Log =/\=

Admiral Alexander 'Xander' Hark
Commander in Chief of Starfleet
United Federation of Planets

Admiral Blyx Red
Commanding Officer / Quadrant Commander
Cold Station Theta
Cheydinhall Sector

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

Commander Amelia Waterhouse
Executive Officer
USS Vindicator, NCC-78213-E

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

Lieutenant Junior Grade Lily Charlson
Security Officer
USS VINDICATOR, NCC 78213-E

Ensign Teá Black
Intelligence Officer
USS VINDICATOR, NCC 78213-E

Ensign Catalina Barnes
Intelligence Officer - Encryption Specialist
USS VINDICATOR, NCC 78213-E

Master Chief Petty Officer Rik Caine
Security Investigator - Chief of the Boat
USS VINDICATOR, NCC 78213-E

Kyym
apb Spaceman
Atlantean Ambassador

 

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