JL | Aendeh Tr'Esun, Rochelle Ivanova (MU) - "Bang Bang"

Posted on 241707.27 @ 4:55pm by Commodore Rochelle Ivanova

Mission: Hush [BQ Plot]

Months had passed. Months of blood, sweat, tears... Months of anguishing lows and elating highs. Through it all, Rochelle had remained strong, nubile, flexible. Certainly, her anger flared, as did a sense of anxiety - but by the end of it she had proven them wrong... Or was it right? Everything down to her gait had changed. No longer were her strides choppy as if designed to be ready for fight or flight with each and every step - instead now her hips swung as if she drifted to a musical beat only she could hear. Her shoulders were square and, when allowed to be loose, her hair would bounce and sway against the small of her back. In effect, she'd been refined. Taught diction and decorum, finished by the hands of Romulans that shouldn't have known anything about human etiquette or the nitty gritty personal preferences of the woman she was meant to replace.

Hell... It had come right down to underwear.

She may as well have worn nothing at all the way the bits of lace clung to the swell of her hips. Ultra-feminine, they bordered on exotic. Orion Slave girls would have turned up their nose at them, without a doubt deciding that they were utilitarian - but they were still well beyond the scope of what Rochelle would have chosen for herself. She had to admit, however, the dark color choices set her skin to life and in a way, it was empowering to hide such secrets beneath her clothing - especially if those clothes happened to be the drab, lifeless threads of a Starfleet uniform. Commodore Ivanova was becoming more real by the ticking of every second, but Rochelle refused to let her take a strangle hold.

No no.

Instead, they'd share. It was a perfect masquerade. "Question," she didn't even bother to pause as she sailed ever so sweetly into Tr'Esun's office. His doors were always open, especially when Tr'Bak was stuck in his own head and unable to escape for sake of plotting and devising the future of his grand scheme, "What's it going to take for you lot to consider me ready?" Her hip cocked to the side as she came to a rest against his desk, folding her arms across her chest as she stared him down. "I'm ready. I can do this. We're wasting time!" She practically whined in her impatience.

Tr'Esun studied the woman before him. Her subtle graces, liquid movements, wardrobe choices, and air of confidence spoke volumes of the work that had been accomplished. She had made Tr'Esun proud and he knew she was ready in more ways than one. "I have spoken with Tr'Bak. You are ready. More ready than I hoped you would ever be, my dear one. The Sseib cannot be bothered by trivial details such as your readiness. Or mine..." Tr'Esun trailed off as he thought about the conversation he had initiated the week before.

"His schemes are complex and he sees all of the puzzles while you and I are just pieces. I do not believe it will be long before he utilizes your new found talents." He would be a fool to wait much longer. Every day that passes he puts his plan at greater risk. Tr'Esun thought as he looked into the eyes of the Auburn haired vixen before him. The last months had been hard on the aging Romulan and as Tr'Bak neared his goals, Tr'Esun only seemed to be falling further from fulfilling his.

"Why be in such a hurry? There is as much chance of failure as there is of success. Are you a subscriber to the adage that, fortune favors the bold? You shouldn't be. I have found in my life the only thing the bold are rewarded with is a disruptor burn." Tr'Esun was not at his best today and his inner turmoil was pouring out with more hatred than he intended.

At first, the redhead glowed, beaming proudly that he found her to be ready to serve her purpose - but that glow soon faded into obfuscating darkness and a scowl. "Careful, Tr'Esun... If he heard you, you'd pay for your insolence." Rochelle tutted, reaching to touch the man's cheek in a scorn filled pat, "I wasn't brought here to wait I was brought here to complete a mission and do my part. Waiting games aren't going to do anything productive for us." She sighed, heavily. So much could happen at any given second, and each scenario ticked on through her head before being passed to his ears and enumerated by the tips of her daintily manicured fingers being held out for his inspection. "The bitch could wind up with another kid, that means more surgery for me. The Vindicator just spontaneously combust, it's a new ship and new class after all. She could retire. You could... You know..." She shrugged, "kick the bucket. You aren't getting any younger, you know..." The patting had been replaced by a caress of his jaw and the gentleness of a teasing smile. It was morbid talk that would have incinerated the temper of most, but she knew that his buttons were hers for the pushing. Tr'Esun may have had free reign with many things, but the freedom to insult or assault her simply weren't counted among them. So many had been killed for attempting such things. So many, in fact, she'd stopped counting. They were all easily replaced, the nameless faces that had caught Tr'Bak's ire.

Tr'Esun let her pat his cheek. It was likely to be the closest he could get to her. When she changed from patting to stroking he almost pulled her to him, and would have, were it not for the words that she spoke as she did so. His left eyebrow rose, incredulous. "I am not so old as to mindlessly kick containers, My Dear. Regardless of Tr'Bak's opinion of my analysis on his personality, there is nothing to do but wait for him to decide the time is right." Tr'Esun gently caught her hand in his and stood.

"You know I have done all I can to prepare you for what is to come. By every standard measurable or perceived, you are Commodore Rochelle Ivanova of Starfleet. I will do what I can to persuade Tr'Bak that now is the time, but I fear it will be a fruitless attempt." Tr'Esun let go her hand and walked to a console on the other side of the room. He pushed his fingers against the console and a scanner identified him. The drawer below the console opened exposing a box of ivory and wood. Taking the box back to Rochelle he held it out to her. "Here, this is the last thing I have to give you. I was waiting until you were ready. You are."

Caught in the Romulan's snare, she stood stock still with eyes as wide as saucers as she listened to him. It wasn't fear that filled the depths of those arctic orbs, but rather a degree of adrenaline caused by something else entirely. In many ways she feared that she was losing her greatest ally. Tr'Bak was patronizing. Allowing her to drift to and fro as she pleased, but to him she was a novelty and a pet. Even his wife had taken to referring to her as such, the only one that was allowed to get away with such an action without much more than a chuckle from the Cimmerian Senator. It infuriated the redhead. Day by day she felt her blood boil at a much higher pitch that, she knew, would eventually refuse to return to the simmer Tr'Esun had encouraged it to. "It's a figure of speech." She half-whispered as he rose.

Romulans were strange creatures of pride and other folly that she'd long ago learned to avoid. Fate, however, had lead her down a one way track straight into their nest and the hive had done what it could to prepare her for another journey altogether. One thing was for certain - compliments were rare... Heartfelt compliments were even more so... And gifts? They sent a chill along her spine. One of them, perhaps both, were going to die. It was an eventuality that was undeniable, but she wasn't ready to embrace. The delicate box in her hand suddenly felt like it was made of solid lead, heavy and unyielding with the weight of all things coming to an end. Her head shook gently as she opened it and the bright over head lights of the surgeon's office set the stones afire. The necklace was beautiful, bold, and full of a certain set of royal whimsy that she couldn't quite place but recognized all the same. "I can't... Dar'an..." his given name fell from the fullness of her pout like the sound of rain on an otherwise quiet Sunday morning. Out of place, but ever so fitting as they stood face to face in an hour of such importance it seemed casual.

"My mother's." He said simply. Tr'Esun had come from wealth and privilege and had born witness to its squander at the hands of his father. By the end of his training with the Tal'Shiar, his family name meant nothing. This keepsake was what he had salvaged, with his mother's help, and constituted all that was left of a once great dynasty. Tr'Esun had once held great dreams of reclaiming his family's honor and fortune but alas none of them had born fruit that wasn't rotten in the middle. "I could think of no better neck for it to grace."

"Dar'an..." Again his name found its way to her lips and her head shook gently as she looked between the ruby lined choker and the man who had passed it into her care, "This isn't something that you give some misfit you picked up and spruced up. This is something that goes to someone special... Someone that you care about... Love? Yeah... Love. Someone like that. I'm the former, not the latter." The teasing lilt never quite made it back to her voice, and her lower lip trembled imperceptibly as she tried to twist her mouth into one of her trademark smirks. The finery could have been made from tangled bits of twine and old fishing lures for all she could have cared, it was the giver and the reason why it was given that resonated deepest within her. All of her life had been spent lying, cheating, stealing... People like the scientist simply didn't exist, or they held an ulterior motive or two in which they'd use her to satisfy their personal agenda. In many ways it had begun that way - but the question as to whether or not it remained as such was at the highlight and forefront of her mind. Her fingers brushed over the faceted face of the center stone, admiring its rich sanguine beauty for all it was worth.

Tr'Esun though about what she was saying and knew she was right, "More right than you know...," he said in a hoarse whisper. In the months he has worked on her and with her, he had grown to love her. He knew that love would lead to his death but what was his life worth to him anymore? She was the best, no, the only thing he had to show for all of the years of science and medicine. The only thing that mattered.

"It will look far better on you than it ever did on me," Tr'Esun said with the half smile that rarely touched his lips. "My family is gone. I will soon be following them if I know Tr'Bak. It will bring me joy and peace to know someone who understands the value those stones hold will possess them." Tr'Esun hoped she understood he didn't mean monetary value, though they were worth a small fortune. The necklace represented everything that had been lost. First by his father and then by his career choices.

It would be him... He was going to die. Rochelle's heart beat a little quicker with the knowledge that he was absolutely correct in his assumption. Tr'Bak was many things... Possessive being one of them. Tr'Esun, no matter how useful and brilliant, had become a threat to whatever it was that he thought he had - to the project at hand. Had she done this? Had she become so distracted that she'd lost sight of the care she knew she'd need to take in order to stay ahead of the game. "Shut up. Just stop talking." His words singed her, leaving her shaken and desperate as she thought of a way, any way, that she could save him. She couldn't. It simply wasn't possible to save a man marked for death by the Senator. Instead, she chose to give his death meaning, to allow him that brief fleeting chance at elation and euphoria in a life that had otherwise been marked as a complete and utter shit storm. It wasn't hard to free the necklace from its holder - nor was it especially difficult to set it about her neck and lock the clasp. Her fingers lingered there for a moment, second guessing their own intent as she studied the aging Romulan's soulful eyes. She'd done this to him. It was a thought that would likely plague her for the rest of her life, however long or brief that it may be.

Standing on tip toe, she brought the dewey velvet of her lips to his. Soft as satin, light as a feather, the kiss was an elegant prelude to what was likely to be her final act as his creation. Only the sigh of her delicate satin dress dared to defy the silence as she brushed its feeble straps from her shoulders and let it fall. Da'ran Tr'Esun was a man she'd never forget... For his patience, for his kindness, for his adoration as he coached her along the dangerous path she'd been forced to take.

Tr'Esun's heart pounded in his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. His hands worked their way down her spine to caress the small of her back where he pulled her close. His green blood boiled in the heat between them and he knew he was signing his death warrant and didn't care. In the now, she was his, not Tr'Bak's and to him, that was all that mattered.

Seconds, minutes, hours, or days could have passed as they held each other, Tr'Esun was unsure. Their bodies were moist with exertion and his heaved with exhaustion. His life, and the rest of his anatomy, had been spent and now he knew he was on a downhill slide. "We must dress," he whispered softly into her ear.

The desk, his desk, was starting to bite into her thigh as she rested there against the Romulan's chest. Though aged, it was still toned and taught with whispers of stories of his Tal'Shiar past and the power he once held in much the same way he held her. Even through half opened eyes she could see the pulse thundering away in his throat and the pang of hesitation that came before he suggested that they obtain a sense of propriety before the world was set on fire and Tr'Bak rose up to smite him. Her lips found his sweat slicked pulse in a kiss sweet and tender. It was hard to believe that she was kissing away his life, but choices were things she had very few of. In her mind, at least, he'd live long enough to enjoy the gift he'd given.

"We do..." she nodded, pushing up and away from him and immediately regretted the action as the cold air of his realm swooped in to claim the heated flesh he'd cradled mere seconds ago. Getting dressed was the easy part. Nothing she wore that day had been especially complicated to adorn herself with... It was the want to that she struggled with as she forced herself back to a semblance of decency. "He'll be wondering where I've run off to." She hummed, casting her gaze back to Tr'Esun's eyes.

"And what will you tell him?" Tr'Esun asked already knowing the answer would be the truth. "Thank you for this." He said without allowing her to answer his question. "It was the most precious gift I have ever been given." Tr'Esun fastened his trousers and wrapped his tunic around his naked torso. The floor was littered with PADD's and parchments, nick nacks of a lifetime. All the things that would be discarded or disseminated throughout the ship once he had been removed. "When you tell him what has happened here, tell him I knew what I was doing and I would do it again." Tr'Esun smiled at Rochelle. She was all that mattered to him, a prize unlike any he had ever dreamed of.

For a long while, she was silent and simply stood back to watch him. Only when he replaced his tunic did she come forward again, fixing the collar to lay it flat where it belonged - where she'd seen it several hundred times before. He spoke of gifts, the way she'd granted him a moment of rapture in a hollow pit of darkness and she felt her head shake, "I'd do anything to repay the kindness you've shown me." She practically hummed as he smiled at her and she rose, once more, to rest her lips against his cheek. Loving him had come entirely way too easy. He'd challenged her, inspired her, and forced her into greatness where so many had set her aside fire ridicule. "I will tell him... He won't like it, but I'll tell him. He'll know that there was happiness for a brief time and I'll thank him for facilitating it."

Tr'Esun smiled at that and pulled away from her, instantly regretting it. "You will be missed if you don't get back. Go find him. Tell him. Show him you are ready." Tr'Esun turned and walked around to his desk chair where he seated himself not bothering to look back up at her. Not being able to look back up at her, for it would make his next task all the harder.


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To Be Continued
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Aendeh Dar'an Tr'Esun
Surgeon, 3rd Tal'Shiar Task Force
Chief Medical Officer, Anima Venator
Romulan Star Empire

Rochelle Ivanova (MU)
Mercenary