Commo Ivanova, Cmdr Dahe'el, CO & XO | "Winter Is Coming" pt 2

Posted on Sun Jun 12th, 2016 @ 4:41am by Admiral Rochelle Ivanova & Commander Almar Dahe'el

3,319 words; about a 17 minute read

Mission: Resurgere

"How has your father taken to becoming a grandfather?" Almar asked as he leant back in the chair and glanced towards the door, "The Klingons are... in a very celebratory mood, they treat him as one of their own and it is not often that a Klingon sees their grandchild, especially in a time of war."

She could relax, finally. Almar was yielding to the comforts of the seat he'd taken, slowly allowing the tension to melt from his hulking frame and Rochelle could feel her muscles beginning to parrot his out of sheer relief. At the mention of her father and the Klingons, she allowed herself to smile, "Like a duck to water." She replied, coming back around the swing in search of tea for herself, "He and Ch'Krang visited together for a bit, imagine my surprise when the two of them came through the door." a chuckle rolled and was accompanied by a head shake and the sound of the replicator whirring to life, "You sure I can't get you anything?" Replicator tea was a poor substitute for the real thing, but it was quick, easy, and didn't tear her attention off the baby or the Cardassian for longer than necessary. She could live with the blandness... For now.

"I'm fine, thank you," Almar replied with a slight smile, he'd begun relaxing slightly and it began to show on his face, the scaled lines softening, "I'm sure that the sight of the Chancellor bursting through the door is something not easily forgotten."

"No," She nodded with her brow furrowed, stirring her tea as she crossed the room again, "it's not. It gets even stranger when he gifts your son something as profound and deep as what he gave to Javaan."

"I'm intrigued," the Cardassian replied with a light chuckle as he turned to look at Rochelle, "What could a Klingon Chancellor give to a baby?"

"Why three or four centuries old twin Mek'Leth, of course, family heirlooms." The firebrand deadpanned and set her tea down on an end table. Holding up a single finger, she couldn't help but grin as she sat off to retrieve the leather bound blades. Landon hadn't seen them yet, trapped shopping or celebrating with Tristan, but she could imagine his reaction would likely be very similar to Almar's. "Would appear that Javaan has been adopted into the House of Ch'Krang like his grandfather before him." She added, setting the package in the Cardassian's lap.

"Ah yes, Blood of his Blood, his closest male descendant." Almar replied as he failed to stifle a laugh at the thought, "It is not often that a Klingon parts with a weapon willingly."

"No, they don't." Rochelle mused in agreement, "He seemed happy to do so, maybe even proud. I don't quite know what to make of it. On one hand I'm proud and thankful, on the other I'm suspicious and wary... Undoubtedly it's an unfounded suspicion, Ch'Krang is an honorable man."

"According to all reports, he and your father fought side by side in both the Klingon and the Federation Civil Wars, they swore an oath of brotherhood in front of the Empire," the Cardassian recounted as he thought back to the reports that had been passed around the various command teams, "Klingons take an oath of brotherhood quite literally, that means for all intents and purposes, your father, you, Javaan are part of his family, part of the House of Ch'Krang."

She nodded slowly in reserved understanding. The realization that she'd earned yet another place in cultural lore hadn't escaped her grasp, and yet the magnitude hadn't quite sunken in. Atlantis was still a raw subject, grating on the woman's nerves, but relation to the Klingon Chancellor - even by oath - was a whole new brand of crazy she wasn't yet willing to tackle. "Javaan is set for life, isn't he?" She softly asked, "To try him would lead to ruin... but does all this guarantee his safety or does it guarantee that he'll be a target?"

"By nature, being your son makes him a bit of both, at least you'll both have the backing of the Klingon Empire for as long as the House of Ch'Krang has power and influence." Almar replied quickly.

Rochelle's head shook slowly, her lips pressing into a thin line as it did, "I keep thinking that I should give in to Landon, leave all of this behind and do what's needed to forget everything and have it forget us. That would be the best thing for Javaan." Somber was the perfect adjective for the way she spoke, her eyes falling to rest on her son's sleeping face. He was innocent, pure, and widely unaware of the monsters that lurked in the shadows, likely waiting for a chance to consume and taint him with their darkness. "And then I think that by quitting now I'm letting them win and setting the scene for something more dangerous. I'm..." her head shook more, quicker this time as she worked it all away, "I'm conflicted, Almar. Conflicted and torn between duty to my family and duty to Starfleet. Conflicted by duty to Starfleet and my need for retribution and to bring Tr'Bak to justice for Landon and the Vindicator. Somewhere in the middle is Javaan. I have to protect him, but I can't do that without taking that son of a bitch out of the game and I can't do that without violating my oath." The Phoenix could feel the hot brand of tension rise from within, burning along her nerve endings and playing hit and run within the fibers of her muscles. "Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, what the fuck am I supposed to do? What's the right path? I honestly don't know anymore." Her hands reached to press fingers against her temples before they flew away again, slapping against her thighs in an exasperated arc.

"Leaving all of this behind will not end your troubles, that monster is coming for you and I do not believe that running and hiding is the answer." Almar replied with a slight frown as he leant back in the chair and stretched slightly, "Your oath covers your actions and the actions of your ship and crew, however it does not cover the actions of your family and friends." he added as he scratched at the back of his scaled neck and settled for rubbing at the fans, "The appearance of the Vanguard at a critical time is more than fate... I believe that Vokar had been shadowing us for some time, our ship, the name holds significance for him." his hands dropped to fold in front of him as he paused, "While they might only be a match for Tr'Bak and his supporters, your family has... powerful connections now, can Tr'Bak fight a war against the entire Klingon Empire? I don't think so unless he has recently come into some measure of power within the Romulan Star Empire."

"What are you suggesting? That I point that loaded gun at Tr'Bak and pull the trigger?" She asked, watching his body unfurl in a cat-like stretch, seemingly so relaxed when she felt so very tense. It was an enviable position, for sure, and envy him for his ability to remain that collected given the situation was something she most certainly did. "Isn't that cowardly? To not meet him head on if that's what I chose to do? He's never going to stop... I get that. He wants us and I can't decide if us means the Federation, Vindicator, Landon, me or all of the above. But why us? Why come for the Vindicator time and time again? Why not another ship? I don't understand the pathology here... I don't think Tristan does, even."

"Cowardly? No." Almar replied simply as he collected himself and stood to carefully resume his pacing as he thought, "His focus has always been on the Vindicator, for whatever reason, specifically you too, he is very interested in you Rochelle." he added as he made his way across the room, his footsteps silent as he controlled his large form, "Tr'Bak will never face you head on, he will come at you sideways, from above, from below, from behind, he will find any method to attempt to break you, to break this family apart." the Cardassian turned to face her with a slight smile on his face, "He is not interested in a straight fight so why give him one? I can build us a shield to protect us as best as possible, but we both know that one ship will never be enough to stand against him properly, we will need help, the Vanguard and the Klingons may be able to provide this help, even if it is with us leading the fight to burn whatever forsaken hell-hole he has fled to."

"You're asking that we dabble in dark arts, Almar." Rochelle's head rose and tipped to the side, watching the Cardassian's every move and measuring it, weighing it against the status quo. "I'd expect this from Archer, Landon, but from you? I'm surprised. Maybe even concerned."

"I'm suggesting that we borrow the strength of friends and family to rid ourselves of the evil that has been plaguing us for too long." Almar replied as he stretched again and flattened his hair back to his head, "Hunting down Tr'Bak is well within our remit as Starfleet Officers given the crimes he has committed against Starfleet and her officers, our methods need not go against regulations or the Directives of the Federation. We are bound to a certain level of action, our friends and family are not."

A tendril of copper fell free as Rochelle shook her head, "Out of the question." A single hand cut through the air, severing the very core of the idea and sliding it off the proverbial table, "I refuse to walk that line, Almar. We can't pussy foot around things and pretend that we know nothing of what's going on when shit of this magnitude is going down. You, Archer, Pond, Tristan... Do you really think I'm ignorant of the things that you've already done to defend me? My honor? I've turned a blind eye because I love you people, because to bring it up would be to take action against you. I'm already corrupt and crooked for letting it transpire."Her voice was now a strained and raised whisper, ever mindful of her son blissfully slumbering and ever unaware of his mother's rising ire and worry. Fighting it meant she was contemplating the offer on the table and that, more than anything, both irritated and scared her. It meant starting something that she, that THEY, couldn't abandon until it was seen completely through. It meant ordering deaths, ordering war... Though that war, she knew, had long since been started and not by their hands. It started way back on Notura the day Vrith Tr'Bak had seen Landon captured and his clone placed in his stead and had come to a viciously festering head that she remained hesitant to lance for fear of what lay beneath the surface. "What the Hell would my father say? My aunt? My mother, were she alive? What kind of example would that set for Javaan or Zed?"

"I can't speak for your mother, father or aunt," Almar replied as he rubbed down the fans on his neck and watched Rochelle as she ran through things in her mind, "Then we don't ignore it, we embrace it, we take the fight to Tr'Bak," the Cardassian added as he thumbed the padd in his pocket out of habit, "For his crimes against Starfleet, Vrith Tr'Bak needs to be bought to justice, so enlist the help of our friends to bring him down, it might be war, but it'll be a smaller war than the one which will happen if we allow Tr'Bak to run rampant. While Tr'Bak is out there, we can know no peace, we will find no solace, we will never be free from the war he has created, we either fight it or we allow it to destroy us."

For awhile after his voice faded, silence held the high ground. Silence aside from the click of Javaan's swing as it reached its apex and sent him serenely sailing in the opposite direction. Rochelle smoldered, her jaw tense and shoulders squared. She didn't like a word of it, not a single syllable sat well with her, but it all made sense regardless of whether she wanted to admit it or not. Tr'Bak would never go away. There would always be some way he found a chance to worm himself into their lives, some freak reason he'd exploit to pick a fight with them - and they'd never be fair fights. It was only a matter of time before desperation gripped him in his desire to win the convoluted game he'd forced them to play. "We will not bring anything to him, Almar. We don't know the pathology or theology driving that man. The best thing we can do is go about our lives like he doesn't exist and just be damned prepared to defend ourselves if and when he comes calling again. First it was Landon, then he wanted Archer, then Landon again. The pattern makes no sense at all because it isn't a pattern at all. We can't do crazy."

"We'll be ready for anything he can throw at us," Almar replied with a heavy cough as he cleared his throat, "As I said, the Pendragon was shadowing us for a reason and the Vulcan seemed eager to preserve your life, even at risk of his own," he added quickly, "I do not believe that we have seen the last of the Vanguard."

"So be it. We have no fight or alliance with them other than our gratitude for their assistance. Vokar is dead. I'm deeply sorry for that, but we never asked for them to get involved." The redhead replied stiffly, her eyes narrowing, "Is there something you aren't telling? Are you tied to them, Almar? Because it feels like you're trying to push me in that direction."

"Hardly," the Cardassian replied with another chuckle, "I'd never encountered them until I set foot on board the Vindicator E and was briefed on some of the ship's history," he added as he waved a padd in the air, "I also wouldn't count Vokar out either, he faced the same situation in the destruction of the Vindicator C and he survived then too. It's all in his file."

"I won't mince words then. I don't care." She snapped and was instantly sorry for it. If ever Rochelle felt cornered, it was that very moment. Her pride had been injured, her sense of security right along with it, when Tr'Bak had done what he did. Almar's logic only served to pry at those wounds and raise the little firebird's hackles as she sought to levy her dominance over the situation once again. It was slipping, and now that she was a mother - a new mother at that - she felt more vulnerable and underestimated than ever. "This conversation is over. Thank you for coming to see me and Javaan."

"Very well, Commodore," Almar replied, taken aback by the snap that the redhead had aimed at him. It was something that didn't happen often and the Cardassian found himself reverting back to Officer mode from friend mode. He straightened up and fixed his gaze to a foot or so above her head, "If there is nothing else I'll go and finish the final construction phases."

It would have been far easier to simply send him on his way, tail tucked and all. She likely should have, but still couldn't find it within herself to use the tools laid out before her to set that finite line and kill whatever it was that loomed between them. He was her friend, her confidant, the one who had stayed put and loyal when all others had shown their true colors all along. Though her shoulders were squared and her chest puffed up in a subconscious attempt to seem far larger than her dainty five foot four inch frame allowed, she could feel herself softening in spite of all the tension and rigidity that managed to pack themselves on in. "I'm sorry." Rochelle finally said. Her voice was nearly a whisper as it left her lips, "You're just trying to keep your promise and I'm... Shit, Almar... I'm just trying to keep mine to this crew. I can't sell them out or reach out and say that they're not good enough to keep us going." Leaving where she'd stood, she found herself falling into the relative comfort of the chair he'd occupied, resting her elbows on her knees and looking up at the massive Cardassian. "I really have thought about leaving Starfleet and trying to lure the threat away. If it wasn't for Javaan I know Landon and I could be successful at that game of hide and seek, but I can't do it to the baby. It wouldn't be fair." She added, swallowing the hard knot that was rising in her throat. She wouldn't cry, wouldn't dare give Tr'Bak the sick satisfaction of her tears whether he could see them or not. Hormones, she decided, were a bitch. "That leaves my only option as the path we're taking. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best."

Kneeling beside her chair on one knee, the huge frame of the Cardassian appeared smaller and he placed a cold, scaled hand on her shoulder, a warm smile crossing his lips slowly, "We will always be prepared, Rochelle." he replied softly, "But know that we do have friends and family who can and will help us when called on. You might not like the idea but we are not in this fight alone and we never will be. By your very nature, the truth of who you are and who you are related to means that we have a significant support network, whether we ask anything of them or not, they will be there if we need shelter or aid."

"I don't plan on exploiting those links whether they're there or not. I don't want to." Rochelle sighed softly, searching the Cardassian's oil-black eyes for some hint that he understood what she was having a hard time expressing. It was almost impossible for her to convey the welling feeling of pain and disappointment that came sweeping in at the mere thought of hitting rock bottom hard enough to have to reach out and admit she couldn't handle Tr'Bak. Rochelle had always been the one to stand up, shaking her fist at the welling storm, begging it to do its worst just so it would give her a valid excuse to do hers in kind. Alone, face to face, a fight with Tr'Bak would have been ideal - but it would never come to pass. He'd hide behind his technology, nipping at their heels from under the proverbial bed. He'd prey on any weakness they showed, waiting for a chance to bring them to their knees. She hated him. Hated him to the point that she'd been ready to trade herself for the Vindicator and her crew... For Landon, Archer, Almar, Tristan... All of them. The ship had saved the day, ripping from her the chance to do the tragic deed. "I never asked for this," She whispered softly, "but I've made my bed and now I've got to sleep in it. I need to fix this myself. It's my cross to bear now, my job to protect the ship, her crew, my family. I have to."

(End Log.)

Commodore Rochelle Ivanova
Commanding Officer
USS VINDICATOR NX 78213-F

&

Commander Almar Dahe'el
Executive Officer
USS VINDICATOR, NX 78213 - F

 

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