Fleet Log || Adm. Red & Adm. Hark || "The End and the Beginning"

Posted on 241502.27 @ 11:20pm by Fleet Admiral Blyx Red & Admiral Alexander Hark

== Cold Station Theta ==

The station buzzed and hummed and thrummed in a new and rather unsettling way. It hadn't felt like this since she'd taken command and told a poorly group of sods to get with the program or find themselves shipped back to Earth in the most wretched of ways. One of them had even had dreadlocks. Long. Angry. Unkempt dreadlocks. At least they'd all been in uniform – scratch that – they’d all been in parts of their uniforms. Cut sleeves, tunics tied limply around their waists. One had even managed to boast that they were at least waiting regulation issue underwear. The Commanding Officer simply hadn't cared, or maybe it was that they'd given up.

“We’re in the cold, ma’am. There’s nothing out here but pirates and the insane.” Dreadlocks had explained when she’d lined him up against a wall. He’d become example number one; the worst of them. The end of them.

A smirk had donned her pouty mouth and her head had tilted to one side. She’d never touched him, hadn't needed to, but her look had said it all and she’d watched him swallow the knot he’d quickly grown in his throat. “I can see that, Lieutenant, but I suggest the pirates be hung and the insane be put back in their padded cells before 0530 tomorrow.” She’d smiled the devil’s smile, the kind that no one dare question. The next morning had quickly bled into the first month with each day spent cleaning and repairing the damaged space station. Blyx had demanded perfection and they’d given her all of that completely with a cherry on top and rainbow sprinkles as a flourish. The station now ran like clockwork, her Science labs buzzing with activity and the promise of a better tomorrow.

Ah yes… Buzzing.

She knew what that low lying energy was simply because she’d caused it before; the unrest only an Admiral could cause as they traversed the decks and corridors of whatever implement they’d landed on, ship or station… It made no difference. “Admiral Hark.” She smiled with all of her charms as the mountain of a man finally made it to the station’s operation’s center. “Welcome to Cold Station Theta.”

“Admiral Red, I believe I owe you this,” Xander replied as he stepped from the turbolift and presented the woman with a wooden box, carefully carved and decorated and inlaid with a patterned oak tree. It contained a bottle of scotch from his own collection and marked with the year 2397. his aide flustered around the operations center presenting padds to as many of the senior staff that she could find, requisition confirmations, staffing additions and removals, all of the usual stuff that came when a large ship visited a station out on the edge of nowhere. The Odyssey Class, USS Illustrious filled the main viewscreen as she finished the final docking procedures, “Shall we use your office while the Illustrious crew drops off your supplies and rotation?” the greying Admiral asked with a gesture towards what he thought would be the office of the Sector Quad Commander.

That had been thirty minutes ago.

Thirty minutes filled with small talk, idle chit chat, and mild flirtation – on her part, anyway. It was easy to see why Susan had loved him. There was something to be said about the man’s eyes and smile, the depths of them both seemed written with long lines of emotion that left him readily able to be read like a book if someone took the time. Luckily – or unluckily, depending on how one would take it – reading was just one of many hobbies the crow maned woman cherished, and, in this particular case, hated with a great deal of burning passion. Blyx knew that in just a few itsy bitsy moments she was about to watch those handsome eyes cloud over with both confusion and hurt – their view forever altered by something that had once seemed so very out of reach and far away. Deep in her heart she felt for him, and more importantly, she felt for Susan Andreevna Ivanova – may the Gods rest her soul.

“Xander, I’m afraid I have something to tell you that you may not like or want to hear,” She started, her previous smile fading as the last of their jokes settled in and died. The air suddenly felt stale and Blyx reached to brush an imaginary strand of hair from her face – something was tickling her nose. Fear? It was alien enough to the woman that it could very well have been fear that sat and flicked at the tip of her nose, but she knew there was no going back now that she’d drug the Commander in Chief through two quadrants and sat him in front of her desk. Just what the Hell do you say to someone in his position? The seconds that ticked past were poignant and thick. She could feel them bending and twisting until their simply imploded and disappeared to give way to the next stubborn tick of the clock.

Curiosity, it wasn't every day that Xander was presented with something of a personal nature that he didn't already know. He knew it had to be personal in nature because she would have bought it up before their conversation and she also wouldn't have called him Xander when presenting him with it. “There's not much that surprises me anymore Blyx,” he replied with half filled confidence as he placed his hands on his lap and raised a brow at her.

All of that was about to be shattered.

The next sound was that of one of her desk drawers being unlocked and sliding open. A soft blue silk scarf hissed at the leeching seconds as it was carefully moved to uncover and release a worn tan leather journal. The real paper pages were torn and yellowed by time and abuse. Coffee and tea stains marred the book itself, but not enough to fully rid the gold leafed monogram of ‘SAI’, and she sat it down on the desk between them with the greatest of care. It was so distinctly Susan it seemed as if it held her ghost wrapped about it, protecting the secrets she’d penned within, but one of those secrets – perhaps her darkest – was about to be revealed. “Something you should have known about long ago, long before now.” She added, carefully opening the book to a page she’d stuck a marker down on to save. “Given the situation at hand, I think she’d want you to know. Blyx nodded, looking up to search the man’s eyes as she offered the pages, full of Susan’s artistic scrawl, to him.

Taking the journal in his hand, the ageing Admiral could feel the weight of years that it held and his stomach knotted as he began to read the passage he had been presented with.

----

December 25th, 2387

She’s finally here and she’s finally sleeping. The doctors keep saying that they've never seen a baby more beautiful or curious. She greeted the world with eyes as big as saucers, more interested in everything going on than she was in giving us a cry and it took some serious convincing. I think she only finally gave them what they wanted because they pissed her off, quite frankly. I've named her Rochelle instead of Michelle or Rose. She was both and yet neither, especially with that shock of red hair, so Rochelle it is.

She looks so much like Alexander. Not that it’s a surprise, I knew Marcus wasn't her father from the first minute I thought I might be pregnant. It’s just that I can see him in her eyes and the line of her jaw. Even in her cheeks, or maybe I’m just getting ahead of myself here with guilt. I almost slipped and wrote ‘Hark’ as her last name on the birth certificate. He should have been here today. He deserves to know she’s his and impart all of that stubborn knowledge he has to her as she grows, but I can’t do it to him. I know in my heart that if he knew that he’d give up this game and demand I give it up as well. Maybe I’m selfish for wanting to continue on with Starfleet and wanting to watch him succeed, because I know I’ll take pride in watching him continue up that ladder. He’s going to be great. She’s going to be great because he helped create her and she’ll always have part of him. My father always said that bloodlines can tell you a lot about stock. Humans aren't stock, but I think the same applies for them. I hope I’m right, at least for Rochelle’s sake. She deserves all the stars in the sky and so much more. She's my last and my best hope.
~Susan

----

Blyx felt like she could recite the entry word for word. The marker she held in her hands was the very thing that had piqued her curiosity. It had forced the book to buckle around it, creating a space between the pages, even though it was thin as anything. The tiny hospital bracelet had long since lost the pink coloring to the waterproof binding they’d used, in fact it had yellowed over the past twenty-seven years, but the writing on it was clear as day; ‘Baby Girl Ivanova’, her birth date, time she’d been born, weight, and her mother’s name. She watched him read, only offering him the little bracelet when he was done. “She loved you, Xander, so much she put her head up her own ass over it, but that was always Susan.” She breathed with a sad smile and sat back to let him absorb.

His eyes were red and a single tear made its way down his weathered face, filling each wrinkle as it fought its way down to his chin and dropped off into his lap. The small bracelet filled his hand and for the first time in his life, Xander was speechless. His mouth opened to say something, to say anything... but nothing came. Closing his hand around the bracelet, he shut the journal, placing it on the desk and running his empty hand over the monogram on the front, “She was as stubborn as I was,” were the first words that he managed to force out, “I've always done my best to guide Rochelle, because she was a part of Susan... she meant the world to me Blyx.”

"I know and I know. You've always been good to Susan and Rochelle, even after the cluster that went down between you and Marcus." Blyx replied in earnest. "I also know how Rochelle has managed to be both a blessing and a thorn over the years. She's all fire, and what isn't cloaked in fire, is shrouded in ice." She chuckled lightly.

A few light years away, ‘Baby Girl Ivanova’ was dealing with some very big girl problems on a planet known as Atlantis Prime. A world that only a handful of Federation citizens had happened upon before, one steeped with old mythology and traditions that defied the way the young Commodore lived, that wasn't about to just quietly let their ruling monarch disappear to serve the stars. As someone who had once changed their little Queen’s diapers long before she was indoctrinated by their emotionally inept Prince, Blyx knew it was time to protect her as family, but she couldn't do it herself. Atlantis Prime had tipped her off to the trouble they presented the moment they’d demanded her appearance, but what they hadn't realized is that she had an ace hidden up her sleeve and that ace card finally needed to be played when she’d sworn she never would. That ace card was sitting on the other side of her desk, trying to swallow news that should have been delivered to him nearly twenty-eight years ago after Susan had seen two pink lines appear on a little white stick.

It had sunk in... through the years, it had hit deep in the heart of the greying Admiral that sat across the desk, he was a father...

Clearing his throat did nothing to remove the lump that had formed, neither did it do anything to clear the mist from his eyes or the reddening that signaled the tears that rolled down his cheeks. He had questions, so many questions but none of which could be answered by anyone living save for one, “Does she know, Blyx?” he asked slowly, his voice audibly shaking as his emotions ran wild. He wanted to run to her, to hold her, to apologize for never being there.

"No," Blyx shook her head and slid the box of heavily aged scotch closer to them. He needed a drink, and they weren't exactly on duty. Even if they were, who was going to chastise the Commander in Chief? Such things simply didn't happen, and not over a quick blow of scotch. "Rochelle believes Marcus was her father and has left it at that, gone on with life but followed your path." She chuckled lightly as she got up to fetch glasses and ice from the replicator. "I've known for the last few years after I got around to reminiscing and re-packing Susan's stuff, but if you ever share that I have sentimental side, I'll hunt you down." The Shrike warned, pointing at him from around a glass during her return trip to the desk.

The sound of scotch being poured was a welcomed melody when compared to the palpable silence that fettered about the room between sentences. Though, and it could have just been her, Blyx could have sworn she heard hope and pride dangling in with the heartbreak like some maudlin wind chime. Looking at the man, she could see that she was right. Alexander Hark was no longer just an Admiral, or the Commander in Chief. He was a father, one that had unknowingly watched and supported his daughter as she tore through Starfleet like a wildfire. “But it wasn't until I saw you two together on the screen, during that award’s party in New York,” Blyx said with an acknowledging wave of her hand as she traced the lines of his face through the air and offered him his glass, “I said ‘holy shit, she really does look just like him.’, granted she’s a Hell of a lot prettier, no offense, but… It’s an uncanny resemblance."

“She needs to know, Xander, just like you needed to know and…” She smiled sympathetically, “You have to be the one to tell her.” The glass in her hand raised towards him with a nod, “To parenthood and new beginnings, eh?”

"She's got so much of her mother in her..." Xander replied as he took the glass of scotch and regarded the amber liquid for a few moments, "So much fire... such passion... for everything she put her mind to." he recited, almost to himself as he looked back to Blyx and matched her raised glass, "To Susan..." he responded before pausing for a few moments, "And my daughter."

The scotch burnt as it passed his lips and it evaporated through his head, his eyes closed and he tilted his head back gently as he allowed it to slip down his throat. A slight sigh left him as he opened his eyes and fixed them back on Blyx, "I should tell her as soon as I can... and in person."

Swallowing her own drink and shaking her head ever so slightly against the slow burn, the fairer of the two of them nodded slow. His eyes read of hurt and pride, loss and love, guilt and admiration and they swirled with in in such a profound color of blue. The disappearance of the Sirenian had broken a lot of hearts and raised a lot of questions. Susan had always claimed she'd hated the boat, swearing about how it was named after manatees and not listening to reason that it had been named after sea sirens. She'd been partially right as it had been more of a lumbering, cumbersome thing than a sleek mermaid. 'It has no sex appeal', she'd say and she was right. The ship wasn't like the Proxima or the Endeavour or the Melbourne, but the Sirenian was Susan's and deep down it was well known that she loved the old explorer. Rochelle, truly, was a lot like her mother in that regard; she'd defend Vindicator with her dying breath. "I'm glad you agree." Blyx finally replied, allowing old memories to fall back into the ether, "Because Atlantis Prime has her and they're doing their damnedest to convince her to stay with them. Sean Archer's kid called with the news, ranting and raving that she'd agreed to stay behind and rule. The little son of a bitch had the balls to demand I show my face, and Xander..." She leveled her gaze back on him, "You're coming with me. You lost Susan, I won't let you lose Rochelle also."

He wouldn't allow it to happen, he couldn't, he almost jumped and ran for the door as soon as it had been mentioned, "Get me a full report on the Atlanteans and their culture, organize your station and we can leave on the Illustrious as soon as you're ready." Xander replied as he finished the rest of the glass and placed it back on the desk next to the bottle, "It shouldn't take more than an hour to offload the rest of your supplies and personnel."

Holding up her hand, Blyx called a quick time out. Panic and anger rushed in to further cloud him, and she knew the feeling all too well. Aine had been kidnapped once, but this wasn't kidnap. This was crafty manipulation of an astute young woman by means of psychological and emotional warfare. "Ten steps ahead of you." She explained and set her hand back down, using it to push herself up from her chair. "The Atlanteans are not unlike the Romulans, Xander. They're just more noble and prettier. It's a complex matriarchal society filled with alliances and chairs of diplomats and warriors. They don't fear us, they just don't give a greater God damn to come knock on our door for a war or for help." Each word hung heavy as she made her way around the desk and plucked a PADD from the corner nearest the fretting Admiral, replacing it with her own posterior. "I have everything that Admiral Archer and Captain Taggart compiled. Taggart was, as you know, the Prince of the Atlantean Empire and the only reason why we're even having to give them any thought to begin with." The PADD turned on as she offered it to him, "I'd like to wring his royal neck myself, but he's missing, presumed dead, and being male he has no claim to anything which has left Rochelle saddled with that drama."

"So basically, we need to find out why she's considering staying and then give her a reason to leave?" the father replied as he took the padd in hand and began skimming through the information, "Perhaps then we also need to figure out a way of breaking the chain? If they can't have her, I would assume they'd want you since you're her only living heir?"

"Nudge her in the right direction. Figure out what kind of sorcery they're using to brain wash her and snap our magic fingers in her face." Blyx nodded with approval, happy the man understood the situation. Fatherhood seemed to suit him, at least so far and this was one of the hardest trials he'd have to deal with; a daughter with a wild heart that was being poisoned with political falsity. He hadn't been there to save her from scrapes and falling off her pony, but he'd be there to save her from the Atlanteans. Leaning over and tugging the PADD down so she could read from above, Blyx flicked his fingers away and scrolled to the point regarding the sovereign affairs of the empire. "There is no breaking that chain, Xander. She's Queen until she dies and then her first born daughter, or mate of her first born son, would be Queen. Failing that, it falls to me and if I'm long gone by then it would fall to Aine, seeing as Colton doesn't have a wife." She explained, tapping the screen with a single French manicured nail. "She can, however, name a local regent to communicate with her over the big crap and rule in her stead. That's our in and we're going to take it."

"If we have our in, then why are we still here?" Hark asked with a slight raised brow as he regarded the Admiral who had brushed his fingers away, "I can't see it being a voluntary thing, Rochelle has kept away from all this for so long... but why now? I know you suggested she go there, but why would she consider staying now? What are they holding over her?"

"We're still here because your ship is being offloaded and my ship... Well. It's not a ship, now is it?" Blyx peered down at him, meeting him eye to eye. There weren't a lot of people who could get away with plucking at Hark's fingers, and she knew it. Knew it well, but chose to simply launch herself fully into his next inquiries. "That's the kicker card, Xander, I don't know. I'd hazard to guess it has something to do with that Trill of hers, but that's just speculation based on scuttlebutt. The rumor mill is rife with bullshit stories surrounding Rochelle and a myriad of men, Trill, Cardassians... EVen Klingons."

"So you think it is perhaps a case of blackmail?" Xander replied as he conceded her point about his ship being unloaded and picked up the bottle of scotch again, pouring himself a second glass before offering the bottle to Blyx.

The Admiral's head shook as she replaced the bottle's stopper. "Possibly, but to what end?" She shrugged and set the bottle back down. She'd hide it when they left. "That I don't know. Just be prepared."

The scotch didn't burn as much this time round and it drew a little cough as is slipped down his throat, "I'll have the guest suite made up on the Illustrious as soon as we've finished resupplying your base. Get yourself on board and we'll make straight for Atlantis Prime."

Blyx nodded and held her hand out for his glass. If he'd cared to meet her eye to eye it would have been plain as day; she was cutting him off before he could use the drink as an excuse for any number of stupid things an Admiral, let alone a father, could possibly do under its wretched influence. Stress and alcohol simply loved to fornicate, but the love child they produced was an absolutely abhorrence of impaired judgment and liquefied courage liable to start a war. "I've already briefed my right hand and will meet you on the bridge in..." She paused to look towards the antique clock she'd hung above her desk, "forty-five minutes or so?"

Handing the glass back to Blyx, Hark knew exactly what she was doing and nodded silently as it left his hand. He agreed with the entire reason behind taking the glass from him, it wasn't exactly the right time for him to be drinking in excess and the sight of the Commander in Chief drunk and starting a war over his daughter wasn't exactly a good image to project.

His daughter...

It hit the greying man as he stood and looked over at the clock, they were going to help his daughter, his own flesh and blood that he had watched grow from afar unknowingly supporting his own daughter through her life in an attempt to honour the memory of her mother, the beautiful Susan, the woman who had enchanted his heart and sacrificed to allow his career to flourish, "Fourty-five minutes sounds about right, I think I should get a coffee down my neck too."

"Double espresso. Black." The Admiral nodded knowingly, "and cold water to the face. Make it happen." Ordering him around didn't seem like such a big thing. It made sense and the woman had once been so very close to his position when it came to political race. Saving Hark's image meant little next to dick to her, but she knew she was ultimately responsible for keeping Susan's namesake alive and well. He was a critical part in that, serving both as the scorned lover and the father all at the same time as playing the bold and brave Commander in Chief. Part of it was almost laughable, the one where everyone believed the man to be as savage and insane as the Klingons he ran with. Hopping down from her desk to recycle their glasses, Blyx knew he was anything but. If anything, he was quickly growing on her when she knew she should have hated him from stealing Africa from her grasp. Retirement would have been beautiful, she thought as she set the glasses in her office replicator, but the new story and adventure he offered seemed even more so. Susan had been a fool to cast him away, and now it was up to an unlikely source to pick up the pieces and save the day.

(To Be Continued...)

Admiral Alexander 'Xander' Hark
Commander in Chief
Starfleet Command

&

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