JL | FADM Red, Adm Hark (ret.) | "The Calm Before The Storm"
Posted on 241708.19 @ 6:56pm by Admiral Alexander Hark & Fleet Admiral Blyx Red
Mission: Reconciliation & Reconstruction [Fleet Plot]
It had taken some time for the news to arrive and filter through to the Chancellor and thus, by extension, to Xander, the former Admiral found himself dumping his current payload on Qo'noS and charging across multiple sectors at a breakneck pace, the warp core screamed for relief as it thrust his ship into a holding pattern around Cold Station Theta and powered down. Xander's hand found the communications panel and somehow he formed words with a voice that threatened to break, "Cold Station Theta control, This is Alexander Hark of the Mogadishu, requesting permission to beam directly to the medical wing."
"You are cleared, Welcome back Admiral Hark," a familiar voice replied, Xander was already making his way back to the transporter padd and inputting the coordinates as the message came in.
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Sleep was no longer Blyx's favorite past time. It was clouded, plagued by bits and pieces of floating memories of eyes, of a blade, of the richness of her own blood. Each time something came up she'd give an undignified grunt, wrinkle her nose, and fight to toss onto one side or another. It still hurt. Damn it. This time, though, her fingers gripped the sheets in sheer frustration and she rolled from her side to her back just in time to hear a familiar set of foot steps echoing in what should have been silence. The pace was hurried, fierce. It wasn't Alek. It was rare that he wasn't there and reading in the corner near her bed, but his chair sat cold. Sleep? Shower? She wasn't about to try and play twenty questions with herself in order to come up with a witty and worthy guess. These footsteps belonged to someone that was the polar opposite of Alek's frigid brooding. This one was full of life, but sadness, emotion hanging around him after so many years he could have chained it up and thrown it away. "Admiral Alexander Hark" She greeted him with a voice full of gravel before her eyes opened and when they did she could see the grimness written across his handsome features. He hadn't shaved. His clothes was a wrinkled mess. Or were they supposed to be worn that way? The jeans begged forgiveness as they followed each masterful stride, the vest looked tired. The jacket... It hung with a sigh. The entire picture spoke of a rush and sleepless nights, "Who died?" She asked. Not funny.
Hearing her voice as he approached her bed sent a wave of relief through him and her attempt a humour laid him open as he regarded her for a moment, his gaze meeting hers for the first time in too long, she looked like she'd been through the wars and in a way she had. "Only you could ask that question at a time like this, Blyx," he replied, stepping forward and pulling across a seat. The weight that was taken from him when he sat down was more than physical, he sank into the chair next to her and reached over to cup one of her hands in his, "How do you feel?"
She chuckled in response, rolling to face him. It was easier on her this way, easier to relax and to speak and to look at him. "You really don't want to know." Blyx smiled, "It's quite complicated, really... I don't think the words have been created to describe it." She paused, her brow wrinkling in thought, "Though I'm almost positive the Klingons have figured it out. Probably celebrate it." Accepting his touch was an easy thing, his work rough hands warm and inviting to her chilled little fingers. Damn medical bays were always kept as cold as the arctic tundra. From this vantage point she was able to get a much deeper look at him, reading the lines of his face and the light in his eyes. Sleepless nights indeed. "We can celebrate later, pretty sure you still owe me a drink."
He pulled her hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand, allowing it to linger for a few moments before allowing himself a smile at her comments about the Klingons, "I think you're right, surviving an assassins blade is a rare thing in the empire however." Part of him was concerned about how cold her hand felt against his, but given everything she'd been through recently and the ambient temperature they kept most medical facilities at, it was hardly surprising, "I believe I may be able to magic up a bottle or two of something special, given the circumstances," most of Xander's hair was turning grey now, a combination of stress of his previous position, finding out he had a daughter and a grandson and age catching up to him, but he still brushed it back out of his face, the length was something new that he was getting used to as he often found himself away from a decent barber.
"We finally find something that I'm better at than the Klingons. Don't tell them, though. They won't appreciate it." Blyx cracked with an amused little simper. For the first time in weeks she was at ease, no troubles or dramas. No worries beyond when he'd leave and when she'd see him again. Two years. It had been nearly two years since she'd last seen him and time hadn't been kind to any of them. Never had she seen him in such a rugged straight, he'd always been pressed and proper and stately. An Admiral's Admiral. The real deal. Now he was living, but could it really be considered living? The smile faded, "Why are you here, Xander?" She heard herself asking, extending a finger to gently touch and tap his chin as she spoke, "You're exhausted, probably beat the hell that ship of yours to death... A call would have sufficed. Why?"
"I didn't know your condition," Xander replied softly, his gaze lowering for a few moments, "I was on Qo'noS when I got the news but I'd not been able to get any further updates until I got on board the station and spoke to your doctor." In truth, he'd rushed to her side because he was worried that it might have been the last time he'd be able to see her, everything that drove him was in pure, unadulterated fear of death, "I was terrified we were going to lose you, Blyx. You're right about the ship though, I think I'm going to have to put in for some repairs."
"Qo'noS to here non-stop..." She winced and shook her head against her pillow, her finger awkwardly stroking his chin, "Have her looked after here. Parts are easy. If they can build the new Vindicator, they can fix your boat." Then? Silence. In spite of his age he looked almost boyish sitting there in that chair, holding her hand, hiding his worry. She hadn't seen this for the better part of thirty years, not since they were young and naive. "You don't get to be rid of me that easily." Blyx soothed for his benefit, making light of what had left even her completely and profoundly shaken by the severity and closeness of the attack, "Not yet, anyway."
"I'll pull her into the yards later and ask them to take a look," he replied, a slight sigh passed his lips and he attempted to stifle a yawn that was developing as his body allowed itself to catch up with the events of the past few days, "Getting rid of you is the last thing we want, you're too important to me, to Rochelle," he continued, "You're also responsible for restoring some semblance of order to this part of the galaxy."
"I think I've mostly failed at that, they attacked me in my own office." The raven maned woman scoffed, her eyes rolling. His yawn, however, was infectious and she found herself burrowing her face into her pillow to try and contain it, an accusatory eye meeting his. "You know that you're important to me as well..." Maybe more than he should be, "I worry about you."
"I prefer to think that you've succeeded and that's why they came for you, you're a threat to the way of life they'd gotten used to." Xander replied softly, he was definitely feeling the effects of pushing both himself and his ship too hard, his body was screaming for him to find a bed and stay in it for the next few days, "I worry about me too, Blyx, I've got quite a large target on my back just from the nature of who I am and who I know." he paused for a few moments, "But part of that helps to keep people off me, noone wants to risk the wrath of Ch'Krang."
"No, they surely don't." She agreed with a feeble nod. It was her greatest wish that he be spared the same indignity and injustice that had been handed to her in spades. That his he and his daughter, and her young son, be spared from the pain and strife that came with life at the top of Starfleet's food chain. The Federation's food chain. His tiredness tugged at her heart, and knowing the threat still lurked, that targets painted were targets easily acquired when someone could barely follow their own feet, she tugged on him. Her hand turned in his grip, allowing her fingers to take hold and tug him towards her bed. "You need to rest, and I can't send you out there until you're able to fully function." She explained as she scooted over, finally finding a reason to be happy for her diminutive size. She couldn't reach a top shelf, but she could be small enough to share just about any living space. "Couldn't live with myself if something happened because you did dumb and charged from Klingon space to here in one long haul just to see some silly broad."
Xander accepted the invitation and climbed up onto the bed alongside her, an arm snaking its way under her neck to pull her in close and cradle her against his chest, his hand came to rest on her hip as he laced the fingers of his free hand with hers, "I did dumb... but not just for some silly broad, I did dumb for The silly broad," he replied, the words punctuated by a gentle kiss against the top of her head.
"Uh huh," she chuckled, settling in against him and drumming her fingers along his sternum, "point remains that the silly broad isn't going to send you out into the lion's den. Dunross is ripping this place apart, Archer is on his way. You don't need to get mixed up in any of that." Drawing a leg up, she reached to grab the blanket it brought along for the ride and tossed it over him, sharing what she could.
Burying himself below the blanket, he draped as much of it over Blyx as he could, he could feel that she wasn't as warm as she should be, "Dunross and Archer? This is about to become an extremely busy station by the sounds of it," he replied with a slight chuckle and another stifled yawn.
"It'll become a shit show. Both of them are dominant personalities and Archer is now the big boss." Warm was good. Even covered in layers of clothes, the jeans of which being coarse, Xander was a perfect bed warmer. So much better than the never ending ice of sickbay. "I hate to see what's going to happen when those two forces collide. We can sit and drink and eat popcorn, let them sort themselves out." It was her turn to yawn, once again finding herself being beckoned back to sleep. Trauma was a bitch, even with Starfleet medicine. Xander was a sense of normalcy, his banter bringing her relief and a chance to be herself. A huge step towards blowing that popsicle stand and get back to doing what it was she did best. Best of all? He smelled good. Hard to believe for a man that disheveled, but the essence of Xander Hark was not unlike a late autumn evening; earthy, comforting, smoky... Warm.
For the first time in a long time, Xander was allowing himself to rest and it came on like a freight train, at first it was a stifled yawn but with Blyx resting comfortably next to him and the warm comfort of the blanket covering him he found his eyes getting heavy as he let out a sigh and a smile crossed his face, "Do you still have the bottle I gave you when I pulled you out of retirement?"
"I do. Haven't touched it since you left." She murmured her response, peering at him as he began to surrender to what she was certain was exhaustion. At least he was relaxed and happy, and that made all the difference in the world. "We can fix that."
"As soon as you're...." Xander never finished the reply, it became a drawn out sound and nothing more as sleep took him, his breathing and heart rate slowed and his eyes sealed themselves shut.
With a smile, Blyx reached to brush his hair back from his face, letting him settle into a much needed sleep. It would only be a matter of time before that degree of serenity would come apart at the seams. Investigations, the reclaiming of territory... She nearly sighed. The coming days were going to be hell, but at least she could offer the aging Admiral a sense of calm before the storm.
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Fleet Admiral Blyx O. Red
Commanding Officer
Beta Quadrant
Starfleet
Former Admiral Alexander 'Xander' Hark
Privateer
