Vindicator Plot Log | Admiral Hark, Admiral Red, Com Ivanova, Kyym - "Part Of Your World" pt. I-II

Posted on 241503.02 @ 2:24am by Admiral Alexander Hark

Mission: Agua Mala [BQ Plot]

The night had barely budded, offering to the world an almost eerie and austere glow of turquoise and orange as the sun dipped beneath the ocean to the west. Gibraltar, as a whole sighed and Rochelle fell in line with it as she stood on the high balcony. The morning would bring with it her choice of husband and following night would be filled with hollow celebration. Her eyes left the glittering city lights and turned to the sky, hoping beyond hope to catch sight of the orbiting Vindicator burning as a satellite as she hovered in her constant watch. They weren't nearly high enough. The mountain tops may have afforded her a view of burning light, a blip-like representation of the massive ship that dwelt just beyond the atmosphere.

A gust of wind caught her hair and sent her prim and proper russet curls a fetter, blowing them out of their perfect spirals and tussling them free to hang as they pleased. Even her trademark wild lock fell back across her face in defiance of the mold the Atlanteans were trying to stuff her into. She’d never fit. She knew this. She wasn't meant for life in a gilded cage, she was meant for life among the stars or streaking across the desert astride a painted pony. Her fingers left the railing they clung to and pressed against the silk covering her upper abdomen and ribs, dragging across as if to claw herself from the confines they’d held her to. As if such an act would reveal wings and let her take flight back to her crew.

Shouting in the halls had caught Kyym's attention from where she sat watching Rochelle’s behaviors from the other side of the closed glass doors, trying to learn whatever it was that ran through the little firebrand’s mind. She was an enigma, a mystery that seemed content to side wind and side step away from the bounds of logic as if she were truly made of flame and ice. Nothing fit right, she changed and re-invented herself with each passing moment. No matter the obstacle, she cleared it. No matter the pain, she healed. While Kyym had come to loathe the pretty creature, she’d also come to admire her for her strength and her convictions. It was easy to see why William, and her crew, had fallen so helplessly in love with her. One often intensely loved that which they couldn't control simply because it made them feel free as well.

“What is the meaning of this intrusion?!” She hissed as she threw open the door to the new room Rochelle had been sequestered to as the final celebration preparations were being made to be presented for her approval. Four guards met the Ambassador’s eyes, wild and concerned.

“We tried to stop them, Ambassador Kyym, but Admiral Hark and Admiral Red have arrived from the Federation. They demanded audience with the Que—“

“Long story short. Commodore Ivanova is in that room behind you and you’re in our way. She’s a Federation citizen and under our command, our laws come first until she’s been properly dismissed of her duties.” Blyx gently shoved one of the guards aside, pushing her small frame through until she stood, with folded arms, in front of yet another tall bronze drink of water. Behind her, she could feel Xander following suit, his impatience growing just as hers did. It had been one heck of a fight to get to this point, filled with threatening postures and the plucking of weaponry from the hands of bewildered guards who didn't know how to handle such a situation. Admirals were visiting royalty, the highest honored ranks of the Federation – and there were two of them. Angry ones.

Kyym paled as she looked down at the savage little Admiral and then to the stern faced man that stood behind her. She knew who he was, and he wasn't just any old Admiral. “Starfleet’s Commander in Chief.” She said, tilting her head with a wry smile, “And you must be Blyx Red. The Queen’s cousin. Yes…” A polite smile quickly masked the shock that had written itself across her face, “Her Grace is very busy this evening. Tomorrow is a big day for her and I ask that maybe you join us for the celebration and speak with her after?”

"There will be no celebration," Hark replied darkly as his eyes met those of the Atlantean who blocked his path, he was equal in height to some of the guards and it only made him look even more imposing, there was no politeness in his tone, nor in his stance, he'd read the shock on Kyym's face, however fleeting it may have been, and had set himself on his target.

Blyx’s left eyebrow rose a notch, and she tilted her head back to look at Xander. He hadn't shaved, slept, or eaten beyond a sandwich she’d managed to force down his throat with some tea as a crude chaser. “Oh heaven's, Child, listen, about that… We’re going to have to politely decline that offer and put our demand back on the table. You see… He,” She hiked her thumb back towards the CinC behind her, “has this condition where he doesn't tolerate bullshit very well when his blood sugar drops and he hasn't even had a snack in the better part of twelve hours. It’s a pretty wretched medical condition and we’re avidly working on a cure, but right now your best bet is to just step aside and let him speak with the Commodore. I’ll even volunteer to keep you company out here.” She mimicked the Atlantean's sweet smile, “How’s that sound?”

The Atlantean looked between the two of them, back and forth, up and down. Her smile slowly faded and was replaced by a look of nothing but sheer scorn and irritation as she listened to the little hornet speak and nodded. Humans, she thought, they were an impossible race filled with absolute savages – but she wasn't willing to risk a war with them over something so trivial. “Her Majesty is on the balcony.” Kyym conceded and moved to usher the big Admiral inside.

“Good choice, slick.” Blyx admonished and patted the woman’s back, offering a nod to Xander and slowly closing the door to the suite behind him.

Making his way out onto the balcony, Xander found himself feeling apprehensive. He'd only seen this woman a couple of weeks ago at the ceremony where he had gate crashed the party and promoted her before her entire crew, yet this time was different, she was being strong armed into staying on this backwards planet and the information that tugged at his heart was burning inside him.

"Commo... Rochelle?" he said as he approached her slowly.

The redhead's brows furrowed at the sound of the balcony doors coming open and the gruff masculine voice that followed. The accent. The deep bass notes. They reverberated through her chest and down her spine, spiking adrenaline as they went. "Admiral Hark." She began, before turning around, her teeth finding her lower lip and her fingers falling from her bodice to her sides. "I can explain." Rochelle continued, shaking her head and moved to face him. Out of uniform, wind swept, tired, and hanging on a razor's edge from broken, this had been the last thing she'd hoped to encounter. The question as to why and how he'd arrived on such a God forsaken planet burned along her tongue and tickled her senses, but she new better than to question the biggest of the big bosses -- but the way he'd called her by her given name instead of her rank, and the haggard sight of him, furrowed her brows. He looked like shit. Something had happened, something was different. "I did what I had to do to protect my crew, sir. I didn't have time to thing or else they'd have killed Commander Dahe'el and I..." Her head shook, earrings swaying in time, "I couldn't allow that. I'm sorry for letting you down, sir, but I couldn't sacrifice him, not for my career."

"You're not going to sacrifice your career either," the greying Admiral replied as he moved forward slightly and took her hand, "I've been looking over the files that we have on this world, on what I would tentatively call your world, and I know you can appoint a regent to rule in your stead and communicate with her via a porter stationed with you." he stated as he reached behind his back with his free hand and bought it around to the front, the leather bound book shaking in his hand slightly as he offered it to her, along with the tag that had bought a tear to his eye when he had first encountered it, "I never knew until Blyx thought it was time I needed to know, until she thought you needed my help."

Her hand disappeared into that of the Admiral's, engulfed by a degree of tenderness and personal warmth she'd never thought possible from a man so widely regarded as being more Klingon than human. She let him remain close, let him touch and hold her as she shivered against the cold and the strangeness that continued to leech into their dealings. "They won't let me leave..." She began, but was shushed by the appearance of the journal and bracelet. "My mother's journal... Where'd you..." She questioned as she took the offerings from him and pressed the leather cover to her chest. It had been a piece she hadn't seen since she'd been sent to live with her aunts. It brought about memories of sweet Shirley Temples and smiles -- the memory of her mother's face and the hurt that had come when everything had been boxed up and thrown in closets.

"I don't understand..." Rochelle eyed the hospital band sticking up from a page, and she opened it to read, looking cautiously from the faded writing to the Admiral and back. It only took several sentences before the little Commodore choked and nearly dropped the little old book. They cut, but they healed. They seared, but they soothed. History came unbound and knit together without the holes she'd once had, but created new ones that seemed so unfair. Her head shook and her lower lip trembled as she leveled her gaze on his again, "You..." She strained, "You're the Alexander Hark she's talking about, aren't you?" She asked, managing to hold up the page. "You're my father?"


--- to be continued in part II-II ---

Admiral Alexander 'Xander' Hark
Commander in Chief of Starfleet
United Federation of Planets

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

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

Kyym
apb Spaceman
Atlantean Ambassador