JDL | Com Ivanova, Cmdr Waterhouse | "Passion Eyes Of May"

Posted on Sun May 3rd, 2015 @ 10:49pm by Admiral Rochelle Ivanova & Commander Amelia Waterhouse

3,990 words; about a 20 minute read

Mission: Agua Mala

For the first time in her entire career, Rochelle was late. Five minutes was still five minutes too much and she quietly chastised herself as she stepped through the door of her ready room and cast guilty eyes on Amelia's waiting face. "Sorry." She offered, "Something urgent came up after my meeting with Admiral Archer, but it's been settled for now." She explained in an almost sheepish fashion, reaching to rub the bridge of her nose and chase an errant lock of hair away from her eyes. Pausing by the replicator she ordered up their usual pot of hot water knowing Amelia would happily set up shop with tea. It was a ritual. A constant. Something she could take comfort in even when the rest of her little world was slowly shifting on it's axis.

She was healing, now psychologically as well as physically. Landon's impromptu return had given her a new measure of energy and hope even if she wasn't quite sure how she was going to explain it all to her friend. Rochelle wasn't yet quite sure she'd processed it all herself. "He seems to feel that we suffered a disconnect in communication with the fleet, that we should have been briefed on what he found in a little more detail... Told me things about William that, had I known, we'd never have been in that mess." She scowled as she set the pot down and took her seat, folding her hands in her lap.

"Brilliant." The one word, with its sarcastic inflection, said it all. Once again, the right hand didn't know what the left was doing, and officers in the field got the job to mop it up. Tea was quickly set to steeping and Amelia settled down in her seat. "Is there anything that might help now that you've got your regent appointed? Or should everything be under control now?"

"That's just it..." Rochelle sighed in response, her nose wrinkling in thought, "Admiral Archer seems to feel that they'll always find a way to return to darkness and that it's just the nature of the proverbial beast." The young Commodore's head shook as she spoke. It was in part from disbelief and in part from a growing sense of concern and sorrow. The idea of the Atlanteans, even under her rule, becoming a threat to the Federation was certainly one she wished she could abolish from ever transforming from thought to reality.

"So, do we collapse the wormhole and leave a probe behind to make sure it doesn't return? Or do we just wait for the inevitable?" Amelia asked with a tilt of the head. "They probably wouldn't stand for joining the Federation, if you tried it to command that."

"I believe we have to play the waiting game, sadly." The smaller of the redheads replied with a dismal shrug.

"At least we should see about putting a Federation embassy on Atlantis Prime, and ask intel to place someone in the staff to just keep an eye and ear on it," Amelia suggested, with a sigh.

Rochelle considered this for a short moment before ultimately nodding, "I'll bring that point up with Admiral Archer as soon as possible and pick his brain about it. I may be their Queen, but that man knows those people inside and out." She paused, running a finger along the edge of her desk, "It frightens me that Starfleet hasn't published more of his findings... Everything's under red tape, it seems."

"That's frustrating. Will he at least be available to you to advise you on handling the situation you're in? Poor Cecil may need him on speed dial interfacing between you and your regent." The willowy XO leaned forward to inhale the steam rising out of the spout of the teapot. A grin bloomed, and she pulled the mesh basket out of the teapot before filling two teacups.

Honey was a staple in the young Commodore's tea regime. It was the only thing she'd ever add to her cup, unless she was under the weather and then honey would soon find itself accompanied by the sharp citrus tang of lemon. "He's more than happy to assist." She acknowledged, setting her spoon down on her saucer and wrapping her tiny hands around the nearly piping hot cup. It was a comfort to say the very least. "I can arrange to have him be in touch with Cecil for sure. We need to be up to the minute on things concerning Atlantis Prime, even if it's just so we have a heads up that we need to nuke them from orbit."

"Even if I'm at the point where if someone admitted they're Atlantean to me, and then told me the sky was blue, I'd have to look myself before I believed them, I really hope it doesn't come to that." Amelia cradled her teacup under her nose, shaking her head. "At the very least, it creates difficult questions and lots of paperwork. I mean, the Federation's supposed to be against killing people after all."

Rochelle pursed her lips and nodded somberly, "Sad, but true... On all accounts. I don't think anyone trusts them as a whole, and they've never really given the Federation reason to believe otherwise." Her shoulders lifted gently as if to apologize for the unfortunate truth. "I don't think there's anything I can do to change that fact either." She mused, bringing her mug to her lips.

"I don't want to believe they're horrible, stereotypes are bull shit a lot of the time... But there need to be more Atlanteans like Kassek, if there's going to be any chance at changing perception." Amelia shook her head. "So, you're usually as punctual as me. Which is to say, early everywhere. What made you late for our meeting?"

"By all accounts, Kassek is a rarity among Atlanteans. Fingers crossed under his guidance that the darkness can be shed, but I can't say that I'm willing to hold my breath over it." The little redhead's head shook. Kassek was something, alright. Someone that Rochelle had hope for even though concern refused to slip away with the changing of the tides. Heartache could lead to horrendous evils committed in the name of revenge, something she knew all too well post Notura. She wasn't able, or allowed, to dwell on such a thought for long -- Amelia, astute as ever, had honed in on the one thing Rochelle had hoped she wouldn't. "Funny you should ask that." The Commodore replied, setting her cup down, nearly sending it toppling over as it landed awkwardly on her spoon. Catching it, she moved the offending piece of silverware and replaced the cup. "I ran into someone on the station while heading back and needed to escort them back to the Vindicator."

"Well, If I had my parents inclination to lay wager, I would have put my money on it being someone else who delayed you," Amelia insisted with a snort, waiting for her friend to just spill it.

Rochelle's brows furrowed slightly in question, and her lips wrinkled as if to begin to form the paused 'what?' that seemed to lay over her tongue. Instead, however, she shook her head to dismiss it and cleared her throat. "The Neyes clan has returned." She admitted, her voice measured and strong even though her heart fluttered like a bird in her chest. The prospects were terrifying, even if he'd assured her that they were safe. "I don't have all the details yet, Pond, but I know that several known bounty hunters seemed afraid to look at him. Like if they did," Her chair creaked gently as she leaned back against it in exasperation, "they'd be turned to stone or drop dead on the spot."

"Well, I suppose if the symbiosis commission isn't after them anymore, that's good. They're not ones to give up easily though, so whatever it is that happened, we probably need to find out what happened, in case it's anything we need to be prepared for." She frowned softly, tapping her nail on her teacup. "I don't know about you, but I've always assumed that it usually takes something bigger and meaner to scare away a predator. I'm worried what could be big and bad enough to scare away the symbiosis commission."

Spinning her chair to one side, Rochelle's head tipped to the side to allow for her eyes to meet Amelia's. "Bingo." She said, wagging a pointed index finger at her friend. "Something's happened, and he seems to be nervous about it himself." Admitting that part tasted all too bitter, but looking a gift horse in the mouth was far from Rochelle's idea of smart -- even if it meant something horrible could be lurking just around the proverbial river bend. She'd take the quiet moments in between the battles for their very lives. "And there's more..." The woman sighed, her head rolling upright and her eyes searching the plated ceiling of her ready room for words and explanation she wasn't sure how to sling together into an intelligent sounding sentence. Instead she hesitantly lifted her ring clad hand to display the properly placed hardware as it clung to her finger. Even without looking she could see the bright fire and sparkle of the stones as the bright halogen lights were caught by the multitude of facets each one possessed, the two sapphires on either side of the carefully set pave diamond garnished rose refusing to be outdone by their colorless sisters.

"If you'd warned me, I would have brought my sunglasses," Amelia quipped, her head tilting as she considered the hardware on her friend's hand. "He sure doesn't waste any time. Though I'm surprised he hadn't asked before you sent him into hiding. Congratulations though."

"Yeah... Well..." The chair creaked again as Rochelle allowed the artificial gravity to tug her back down and into a correct position. "Thank you. He actually asked by hologram shortly after he left... Had Cecil under his thumb somehow, though I don't think even Cecil knows what's going on." She offered with a wry little smile, "I've worn it on a chain until today." The confession seemed silly, girlish, and far from her normal stout and often curt demeanor. Hiding an engagement from her friends seemed almost sophomoric, but the alternative seemed worse. It gave cause for weakness, a chink in the proverbial armor that could have been exploited on Atlantis. As it was, she'd nearly lost Landon to the Commission and he'd nearly lost her to the beast named Kyym. Her head tipped sheepishly and her eyes met Amelia's once again, "You'll help me plan? You know I'm absolutely horrible at this sort of thing. I chase monsters across the stars, it's not like I've had a lot of experience with weddings, but I know if we just snuck off somewhere, there'd be a lot of pissed off people." She explained, pausing only to chew her lower lip, painfully awkward in this new role that seemed borderline with domestication. Something she knew even less about having lived life as a half-feral Starfleet officer for the majority of her adult years.

"If you're looking for help, I know my brother will jump at the chance." There was no doubt that Noah would be all over this with stars in his eyes. "He'll probably even offer to officiate... so if you don't want a pirate guiding you through your vows, you might want to sort out who you want to officiate before he finds out. Knowing how gossip spreads on a ship, you probably don't want to delay on that. I promise I won't be the one to break to the news to him though." A sip of tea, and a smirk twisted Amelia's lips. "I can promise the wildest bachelorette party ever, like it or not."

An eyebrow arched, thin and high, over one incredulous and wary blue eye. "I'm not entirely sure that a pirate officiating our wedding would be our first choice." Rochelle admitted, slowly trying to piece together the puzzle starting to emerge in front of her. "I'm already overwhelmed... The threat of a wild hen's night is only adding to it." She groaned, burying her face in her hands and laying them on the cool desk top momentarily. "Why do these things have to be so complicated? Small... Small would be nice, but I'll never be forgiven if small happens."

"You're going to have to tackle it like Mama told me she attacked her wedding," Amelia insisted with a confirming nod. Tales of the Klingon ceremony in the redwood groves of Muir Woods, and the reception with replicated food that drove Gram crazy had been told so many times Amelia could recite along with them. "It wasn't for her and Dad, it was for the family. You're coordinating a three-ring circus to let everyone else feel like they're involved in the start of your marriage. Pick a few key things that are important to you: where it'll be, the vows, what you wear for example... then just let everything else go where it may. You have no way to make everything go 'right', there will always be something that breaks from the plan. In the end, if you get lovely pictures and end up married, it's a victory. Anything beyond that is just icing."

Both of Rochelle's Eyebrows went sky high, her eyes widening as she considered the options. Eloping wasn't one of them, not if she wanted to live to see twenty-eight, but big and crazy and elaborate simply seemed out of touch and impersonal. "But..." She began in a small voice, lifting her head back up to look at her friend, "Doesn't it lose something in translation when you wind up with the extremes? Or have I lost the right to quiet and intimate when I became a commanding officer and Commodore?"

"And a Queen," Amelia added. She couldn't help a laugh to punctuate it. "But you can find a way to cut a fine line between crazy huge, and manageable. You just have to very very carefully craft the guest list to give the nods to the right people, who will defend you if anyone else protests their not being included. I suspect that if you think Hark will grace you with his presence, no one else in Starfleet will dare protest being left out because anyone you give a rats ass about the opinion of wouldn't dare suggest they're important enough to be on a guest list with the Commander in Chief. Not even my mother would dare make that claim."

The diminutive one's head head the desk again at the mention of her being a Queen, and stayed down to hide the grimace over mention of Alexander Hark. Her lips pursed and she swallowed the knot that was slowly beginning to well in her throat over the entire affair. "I don't have a choice when it comes to inviting Admiral Hark." She began, the heavy wood desk muffling her words as she spoke, "Someone has to give the bride away... Pretty sure he'd be upset if the honors weren't given to him." Looking up was the only thing she could do, meeting Amelia's humored gaze with her bewildered own, "Father's prerogative and all."

"Look at you, having a secret Admiral daddy," Amelia teased, eyeing Rochelle as if she wasn't sure if this were a joke or not. "I've had one for a while, if you need tips on how to handle it..." Amelia grinned, waiting for Rochelle to reveal the joke.

"Secret even to me until he showed up on Atlantis Prime with my mother's journal and my hospital bracelet in hand." Rochelle deadpanned, "To say I have a lot on my plate would be the understatement of the year." She breathed, offering a small, feeble little smile. "Aside from Admiral Red, you're the only other living soul that knows." She paused, furrowing her brows and pursing her lips, "Well... Archer might, but he has some weird way of getting information out of stones and dry wall that I'll never understand."

"Oh, that's just Spy School 101, they run every one of us ghosts through it," Amelia insisted with a head shake. Rochelle wasn't joking about Hark. "Seriously though, if just you, me, and Admirals Hark and Red are the only ones who knows... Archer'll have to hunt down your mother or take a DNA sample to confirm suspicions — unless he can read you like a book. As for the wedding, having Hark in the wedding party as the father of the bride means you can probably get away with anything short of murder, as long as he's there. Make yourself a small guest list, see if Landon wants to add anyone to it... and then just make that one of your critical things. Don't budge, and send anyone who bitches to me. My only fee for bouncer services on wedding planning is I get a blank check on the bachelorette party planning, even if you're sane enough to not actually put me in the wedding party." A wink and a smirk punctuated her offer.

"Spy school 101." Rochelle scoffed and waved her hand in dismissal of such a thought as if it were completely ridiculous and a folly unworthy of her presence. She knew it was a joke, or at least she hoped it was. Amelia and Archer had always had an uncanny way of sourcing information. No secret was kept for very long around the ship, and most of it came back to her by way of either officer's Cheshire grin. To say she was lucky they were on her side would have been a dramatic understatement all of its charmingly innocent own. "Archer isn't what he seems. I have my suspicions, but I know that his branding runs far deeper than he cares to admit. He can read all of us like a book." She huffed at the thought coming to fruition, "There are already rumors based on the Admiral donating platelets and plasma after Kyym's little stunt. The nurses don't know how to keep their mouths shut and I know he's always listening, but... C'est la vie." Again she dismissed her words, working to try and find small comfort in the conversation, "As for you..." She pointed at her friend, "You're to be my maid of honor. No arguments, my decision is final."

"Then we're not just having a hen night, we're having a week long blow out," Amelia stated. Not that she'd turn down the offer to be Maid of Honor, but if Rochelle felt that insisting was the way to handle it, then Amelia was going to do the same on the party. "And based upon the stories Mama told of wedding planning, you're going to need to leave the last week's arrangements to someone else and we're going to take the bridal party to somewhere tropical where we can enjoy margaritas in the sand, hit on the cabana boys, and just let you relax in preparation that will be your wedding battlefield." The mental image of approaching the wedding in a starfleet battle uniform caused Amelia to snort in amusement. "Please promise me you're not going to stick me in some hideous bubblegum pink dress. I promise I won't outshine you if you let me wear something that flatters me."

A strangled little noise slipped past Rochelle's lips at the idea of a week long extravaganza somewhere on a beach. "Amelia..." She almost whined, "Why do we have to go crazy? Can't we just hide on the ship in pajamas or something? I mean... Seriously. Since when have you ever known me to party at all? I don't even celebrate my own birthday, let alone the last night or week of me being single." Her fingers coiled together as if trying to defend herself from the sense of overwhelming panic that threatened to swamp her. Throw her in front of a Romulan warbird and she'd fight them with a smile, stick her in front of tulle and color swatches and guest lists and she slowly began to crumble with uncertainty. "I wouldn't dream of making you look like an idiot. Simple. Chic. Sophisticated..." She nodded along with the slowly budding vision, "Jesus... Amelia... Growing up I never did the doll and dreaming of weddings thing. I was more concerned with making sure my horse was well groomed than I was with pre-designing my nuptials." Her head shook with the confession, "And my father..." She groaned, "I just met the man and now I have to spring it on him that I'm getting married. I don't know what to expect here. I'm beyond lost."

"Given the way he appeared personally for your promotion to commodore, I'm pretty sure the wedding won't be that much of a surprise. You don't show up to spring that sort of promotion on someone without at least being somewhat informed on their life. Besides, it's likely he's just as worried about things you don't know about him, I can't imagine either of you are having a walk in the park with this... but a wedding is a normal thing, unlike that Atlantis fiasco, so it'll be helpful to both of you to experience something normal together." Amelia reached across the desk to lay a reassuring hand on Rochelle's. "As for the tropical party? We'll go somewhere no one will know you, just sun, sand, and drinks. There are a few islands in the tropical areas of earth where they'll rent you the whole island for the weekend, and having people there to serve is entirely optional. No paparazzi, no wild, just relaxation before the wedding."

"It'll be a surprise to him and that's the concern." The Commodore sighed, running her fingers along the cool sheen of her desk's top. "A wedding might be a normal thing, but it's a stretch and difficult thing to just simply spring on someone right in the middle of trying to piece together twenty-seven years of absence from one another's life. Then again he deserves this..." She pondered out loud, "He didn't know I was his when he promoted me. I wish he had, I wish he'd known all along." Rochelle's teeth found her lip and her eyes closed briefly as she washed away the knowledge of the hurt that had grown and built up to the crescendo of that proverbial bubble bursting at the hands of Admiral Red. "Anyway... It's your party to plan, Amelia. Just keep us off the AP wire. tr'Bak still lurks along with the Gods only know how many more enemies we've left in our wake. I don't want this injured or tarnished by them."

"Should be easy enough to do. Just be careful about who you tell, and run a background check on the guest list before you send out invites," she winked and grinned. "I know a few people who should be able to handle that for you. We'll figure it out."

Rochelle groaned softly, "We'll figure it out. No dates have been set or anything... It's... Very fresh." She said, eyeing the ring on her hand, "Gives everyone a lot of time to get used to it."

"You'll figure it out," Amelia shrugged. "Just take it one step at a time."

"I suppose that's all I can do." The redhead muttered in response and seemingly wrapped herself around her tea, doing her best to hide behind the carefully crafted cup. Only time and fate would dictate how the entire ordeal played out, and all she could do was hope, and perhaps pray to the powers that be, that everything would be allowed to run as smoothly as possible.

Weddings, she decided, were never simple.

=/\= End Log =/\=

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

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

 

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