Trapped in your own Head

Posted on Thu May 16th, 2019 @ 8:52am by Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox & Commander Rita Paris

Mission: Fractured Fairy Tales
Location: Deck 8, Crew Quarters
Timeline: 2396

Duty on a Starship meant that life goes on even when it doesn't for everyone. For Lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox, that meant that she was sitting alone in her quarters off duty for the day while Mona Gonadie was taking over the Flight Control Department.

Officially, Dox was ordered to rest by the Chief Medical Officer, Asa Dael, due to injuries sustained surviving a failed assassination attempt in Shuttlebay two the night before. Dox made it out of the attack with a broken knee, a cracked hip, two cracked ribs, a broken ankle, a mild concussion and a plethora of cuts and bruises.

Painful injuries that were easily fixed by the ships diligent doctor. But they had still insisted on Dox taking the day off to recuperate and recover anyway, leaving the emotionally exhausted officer alone with her thoughts. And her thoughts this morning lingered on the person who didn't survive the assassin droid's attack: Ensign Raphael Paulson.

The young ensign was opinionated, lazy with paperwork, poor with following regulations and had a big mouth that often got him put on the short list for undesirable duties. Duties like working the overnight shift in Shuttlebay two. The duty that he was assigned to by his flight chief, Mnhei'sahe Dox. The duty that got him killed.

Sitting at the small, glass top dining table nursing the last sip of a cup of tart Romulan Coffee, the flight chief was reading Paulson's service record on a PaDD. Today, she wouldn't be in the flight control office to talk to the crew about what had happened. Today she was confined to quarters where all she could do was think.

Wearing a pair of black sweat pants and a baggy black t-shirt that was a size too large for her, she got up to get a refill from the replicator. As she did, her body protested that decision. Her bones might have been mended and her skin healed, but the muscles and joints remembered the damage and screamed at the red-headed Romulan pilot in protest at their use. The muscle relaxer Asa had programmed into her replicator would have helped, had Dox chosen to take it.

But for now, she welcomed the stiff joints and painful spasms as she stretched out her legs to walk. It was a pain that would fade within the week, but it was a cold comfort to her in this moment. It reminded her that she was alive when she shouldn't have been. The droid that killed Paulson did so trying to get to her. It was programmed to kill her, hidden on her personal pirate ship that was parked on Shuttlebay two.

She survived. Raphael Paulson didn't. And the inequity of that trade weighed on her mind heavily as she called up another coffee and paced around her quarters, stiffly.

She wanted to go to the holodeck and fight something. She wanted to break her knuckles open on her own face or explode with all the pain she was feeling inside. And more than anything, she wanted a drink. Instead, she sipped her coffee and paced.

There was nothing she could do. It was only 07:00 hours and she couldn't pretend to sleep anymore. She couldn't lash out at anything. She couldn't hurt herself as that would only cause Mona pain once she came home later that evening. She knew that there had to be an investigation going on, but any files on that subject weren't being made available to her so all she could do was wait and think and fail at her promise to the Captain to not beat herself up.

Which was when the door chime sounded, announcing someone other than Mona or Asa. Rising stiffly to answer the door, she realized she could just command it from where she stood.

“Come,” she called out, and the door slid open to reveal Commander Rita Paris.

While both women were close, Rita had been conspicuously absent when Mnhei’sahe had been in sickbay, even to when she’d returned to her quarters. She had expected a visit- hell, the Captain had been there in Sickbay with her. But the golden girl of the USS Hera hadn’t made her appearance until now, which seemed odd for her, until Dox saw her face. It was clear that the first officer hadn’t slept well, if she had slept at all, as dark circles were evident under her eyes. As she strode into the room, she crossed the distance in that measured military stride of hers, then the statuesque beauty swept the chief helmsman up in a hug.

It was more than the emotionally torn young pilot could manage and she began to shudder in the arms of the woman she considered her sister. Wrapping her arms around Rita and clutching her tight in the same way she did so many long months ago after learning of her mutilation as a child, Dox did her best to hold the tears welling up in her but she was beginning to fail. It was a long, painful night of failure for the young Romulan woman.

Taking a few long breaths, Mnhei'sahe relaxed her grip and let go of Rita, trying to gain some measure of composure. Her eyes were thick and green with the tears welling up behind them and the evidence of a long night of tears. But she was trying her best to be an officer and not break down completely to give Rita whatever strength she could manage.

Pulling the wounded woman back into the embrace, the ancient astronaut held her there, while speaking in a soothing tone. “It’s okay… it’s okay. You’re not on duty, it’s just us here, and I know… I know.”

At which the dam finally broke again as Dox crumbled in Rita's arms. "R... Rita... I... I... I was too late. I couldn't... It was... it was my fault! It should have been me!" The red-headed Romulan sobbed. "It should have been me! It was supposed to be me!"

At that, Rita Paris pulled back, then picked up the chin of the distraught young officer. When she spoke, her voice was gentle and soft. "I imagine you are very angry right now, and sad, and frustrated. I'd suspect you feel worthless and small... and like you don't deserve to still be here. How'm I doing?"

Nodding, Dox wiped her cheek off as she was clearly grinding her her teeth slightly. "All that and more. I can't stop thinking about it. I don't want to stop thinking about it."

"Ahhhh, the guilt. Yup. All right, let's sit down and talk about this, Miss Dox," Rita patted Mnhei'sahe's shoulder, then steered her to the couch. "Because unless I miss my guess, this is the first time you've lost someone under your command. As it was an attack aimed at you, that just twists the knife a bit more. So I'll give you a choice- you can have the 'how do I cope with it' advice, the 'inspiration to pick up and carry on' or you can get it off your chest and rage at the unfairness of the universe. I've got a few more options than that, but those are the big three for this situation."

While her tone was a bit irreverent and light given the situation, it was neither sarcastic nor anything but truthful. Rita saw the best options, and laid them out for the officer under her command who needed guidance from a senior officer. The ancient astronaut remembered how she had felt when she was the one on the other side of this conversation, and she knew what she wished someone had told her then. Here and now, in this far-flung future, she could be that to the officers of the Hera, and Lieutenant Dox in particular.

Walking to the couch to sit down, the stiffness and pain was readily apparent, no matter how much Dox was trying to conceal it. As was the painful, light hiss she made when she at down as her joints and muscles protested. As she settled she simply stared into the space between the two silently for a solid thirty seconds.

"I remember all the speeches at the academy about this. But now, in hindsight, they all feel like filler written by people who have never been on a ship. But I can't blame an unfair universe. This wasn't some random accident. And one thing I've learned here ... is that when I let my rage out, it only ever hurts myself and the people I care about." Dox spoke quietly.

"I have plenty of inspiration to get back on my feet and carry on. Finding out who sent that thing, for instance." It was clear just how angry Dox was. There was the familiar undercurrent of anger in her voice.
but it was tempered by her desire to know what exactly happened and what could be done about it.

"I guess what I really need to know is how I'm supposed to live with this. With knowing that it was my fault. I... Don't know what to do" Dox finished sheepishly.

"Did you send the assassin droid? You did not. The fault lies in that person or persons. Paulson was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and the thing damn near killed you, and you had to wreck half the shuttle bay to destroy it. Bear that in mind- Paulson didn't have your training, your survival instincts nor your will to live." Paris sat back a bit, getting chatty with her hands. "Don't get me wrong- I mourn the loss of an officer. But the universe tested Mr. Paulson, and he failed to meet the challenge. That is in no way, shape or form your fault, and I want that to sink in."

"Now, how you live with losing someone under your command, or on your orders. That one's a little harder." At this, the gold-clad commander parked her elbow on her knee as she leaned in toward Dox. "You obsess and analyze what you could have done better. You write that letter to the next of kin. You clean out their quarters, sending their effects off to the family, or recycling it if they didn't have anyone. You write the final report and close their service jacket. You make sure you personally do all of the dirty jobs that come with letting someone under your command die." Sitting up straight, Rita changed the tone.

"You can only beat yourself up so long though, you see. Because there are a lot more officers and crew under your command. And if you are spending too much time trapped in your own head, you aren't looking out for all of them. You've still got a job to do, and at the end of the day, you have to do it, or walk away and let someone else shoulder the burden. Feel it, remember it..." From the look in her eyes, clearly Rita Paris had lost men before, and still recalled their sacrifice. "But don't let it consume you."

"You take care of the rest of your crew, train them, teach them, make sure you pass along what you know, and be there for them. That's how you live with it, Miss Dox," the long-winded legend wrapped up her dose of advice with a very simple yet effective summary.

"You lead."

Reaching over, Dox picked up a PaDD from the small coffee table. "His Father passed away 6 years ago, but his mother lives on Mars. He has... had... two sisters, also in the fleet. One serving as a yeoman on the Otomo and the other in engineering on Starbase 227."

She fidgeted with the PaDD in her hands. "I wrote about ten different letters over the night. I couldn't sleep. But..." Then she looked up with a pained expression. "He was... he was in a relationship with Barbara Ann MacNielle. She's a good pilot. Fifth in the department. They started dating just after Thex's wedding. I..."

A fresh tear slipped free to roll down her cheek and she wiped it away almost angrily. "When Asa dismissed me from Sickbay, I had a fresh uniform replicated to change into. I had to go tell her before... on my way back here. I couldn't let her just read a report or leave it to Mona this morning in the office. It wouldn't be right. I keep seeing her face..." Dox began to curl up in a tight ball as she sat on the couch, crying.

"I... I did what I could. I told her what happened. I tried to comfort her and I kept my shit together. I held in my own tears until I got back here with Mona... But I keep seeing her face. Knowing she didn't have anyone to turn to anymore because..." Dox tried to pull herself together, sniffing as she straightened up, planting her fist over her right thigh, firmly pressing it in a series of short punches to her leg that she was using to try and give herself some degree of focus.

"Ah! Ah! None of that," Rita reached out and gently took the punching hand in her own, and held it. "Yes, it puts a personal face on the loss. Yes, it makes it hard not to feel haunted by guilt when you see them. So you cope by making sure nothing happens to the survivors, you see? We carry on because they still need us- the living. We can do better by them. It's okay to feel the loss. It's okay to feel guilt over the fact that we're still here and they are not. What is not okay is blaming yourself for something over which you had no agency or responsibility."

"You want to be angry? That's fine. Be angry at the actual responsible party, So, ask yourself," Rita let go of the hand, scooting back onto the couch again to fix Dox with a quizzical eye. "Who is ultimately responsible for this? Who is the true agency behind this cowardly act?"

The anger simmering under the surface was beginning to boil. "I recognized the droid. It had been disguised as a pendant in on of the crates on the Khallianen. The crates Magnus and Schwein said were from the other Baronesses. 'Welcoming gifts', they called them."

In her focus, Dox put an emphasis on their names, clearly eschewing their ranks and titles. There was no 'Captain' or 'Baroness'. What respect she had for the pomp and circumstance behind the upcoming tribunal was clearly gone.

"Whoever actually put that droid in there wanted me removed from the equation. Dead or scared enough to stand down. I had to be someone working for the Captain's mother. To silence my vote in the goddamn tribunal. My vote and any potential influence I can have with the Romulan Baroness. I remember her and if I can help it she will damn well remember me and the oath she made to my mother."

Looking at Rita seriously and with determination. "Do we know anything yet? Schwein arranged the handover of the ship, maybe she has a manifest of who filled those crates?"

“Unfortunately, we can’t be positive of anything. But the toxin used is one that apparently only Mommy Dearest has access to through her adjutant. The delivery man is our current lead, which the Baroness is following up on, teamed with Security. What the case has is a lot of possibilities and a potential labyrinth of answers for now. What I have is a firm determination that this is a Starfleet matter. These pirates apparently think they are above the law, and they are in for a rather large-scale rude awakening.” As she spoke, Paris tried to retain her composure. However, she was clearly a simmering cauldron of rage beneath the surface, as all of her misgivings and frustrations seemed to be manifesting the closer they got to the actual Tribunal.

“In short, I concur,” Rita continued. “Someone was trying to kill you to send a message, intimidate you at the very least and most likely attempting to remove you from the equation of the Tribunal as a vote that the Captain can count on. As this occurred on a Starfleet vessel and the crimes were against Federation citizens, I will see this pursued to the fullest extent of the law.”

Listening, Dox continued to simmer as she thought about the situation. "This is the third charge we have if we can find the proper evidence to link it to the Captain's mother. Sabotage of the ship's systems through the corrupted holodeck program. Espionage with Sarkia's compromised cybernetics. And now murder. But when this is all over, Starfleet still wants its arrangement with the family through the Captain to help keep the other parties like the Orion Syndicate in check."

Fidgeting with her hands as she talked, Dox was running down trails of thought as best as she could in the situation. "If we can conclusively link these to her, it would force Starfleet to remove it's backing of the Family so long as Arenara is in command. That could help us sway votes so that when the dust settles, the Captain at least has a stronger footing to reestablish order with the Artans."

Then Dox thought of Rita's descriptions, which were conspicuously light on names. "Do we have a name for this delivery person?"

“We do,” Paris responded, clearly not volunteering any further information to the victim of the crime. She might not be the universe’s greatest detective, but the ancient astronaut understood procedure and the law reasonably well, and she knew that there was only so much of this she could share with Dox.

Understanding full well what was going on, Dox hung her head and sighed slightly. Ultimately, she understood why she couldn't be involved with the investigation of her own attempted murder, even if it was frustrating. "So... what, if anything, can I even do with this?"

“Deal with the living. Take care of your officers and crewmen.” The old-fashioned officer paused, considering her course before committing to it. “Look very closely at the people you have allied yourself, and how they comport themselves. Starfleet and the Federation may not be perfect. But we don’t traffic in lies, deception, murder, assassination and genetic trafficking. We don’t romanticize a life of slaughter and thievery. We don’t subsist by claiming ourselves to be better than the lowest of the low, because we prey on them… so what sets us apart is a technicality.”

“If Az’Prel is to be believed, that was an Agony Booth on that woman’s bridge. I’ve been in one before, and anyone that would employ such a device is so far beneath my contempt as to make me physically ill. For that alone I would bring her to justice. I will see her pay for her crimes, with due process and under Federation law. We will do this right, and we will wipe this blight from the stars.” Paris paused in her clearly motivated and rather dire diatribe. “That’s how I plan to deal with it, at least. I will see justice served.”

"Thank you." Dox said weakly. She would have to think very hard about how she was going to move forward.

"Focus on the job. Focus on the crew." Dox all but whispered as she felt like she was spiriling again and Rita knew the Red-headed Romulan well enough to notice it easily.

“How would you propose to handle it, Miss Dox? I’m curious,” Paris asked. She couldn’t keep the young officer from spiraling into depression and she couldn’t seem to reach her, either. Perhaps she’d offer the answer on her own if prompted.

Leaning on her hands in thought, Dox struggled to find an answer. Frustrated, she stood back up to pace, which was an awkward affair as she was still stiff. But Rita also knew Dox thought clearest when she paced. As she walked about, Dox began thinking out loud.

"I agree that we need to take them down as Starfleet. For all of us AND for the Captain. But if we go in representing the fleet, then we risk pushing the Baronesses already on the Captain's side against her and..."

Stopping suddenly, Dox froze as her eyes went wide. "No, that's EXACTLY how we can... Rita!"

She was rambling, but there was a glimmer of hope in Dox's eyes again as she grabbed a PaDD off of her table and began scrambling through it for a moment before stopping. "Yes!"

The anachronistically uniformed officer's eyebrows rose as Rita's lips curled in the hint of a smile. It had been this way with Sonak, and Stuart, and she'd adopted the habit of being the dumb blonde in the crowd who asked a very good question. Sometimes it wasn't about being the smartest person in the room. Sometimes it was about asking the smartest person in the room the right question.

"Okay, so in preparation for the tribunal, I've been studying the Artan Codes for weeks. Trying to learn it backwards and forwards. Rita, if we can find PROOF that the Captain's mother is behind ANY of the things we know she did. The assassination, the sabotage, anything... It's a violation of..."

Scrolling through the PaDD, Dox handed it to Rita. "Article 7 of the Treaty with Starfleet that allows them to function is SPECIFIC! ANY attacks on Starfleet personnel or vessels is a violation of treaty. It could void it ENTIRELY... and no Baronesses will back her if it means losing the Starfleet charter and protections."

"I understand. But for pomp and circumstance we have to sit through the parade of fancy coats and the grand spectacle of a formal Tribunal. After which herself's mother is apparently hell-bent to destroy us in a starship battle, because she loves to ram and board. Because until we can prove anything, we have to make nice with the pirates. Bloody pirates..." Paris growled, then tacked a fake smile onto her face.

"We have two investigations. We have no proof from either, but both away teams are out there. Unless we can produce the evidence here on the Hera?" the miniskirt model asked from the couch.

"Her damn voice was used in that holodeck program. Can we isolate that? Prove if it was a recording or a simulation? If it was an unaltered recording, Science should be able to determine it." Dox thought as she talked, caught up in stumbling towards a possible solution.

"If the data is recoverable, if it wasn't filtered, if we can prove it's not a recording. It's weak even if we could prove it." Catching the look of exasperation, the Starfleet siren held up her hands. "I'm not shooting it down- we'll pursue it and prove it to the best of our ability and it's a good idea, just saying from a legal standpoint in a kangaroo court it's weak is all. Better a component of the larger case."

"I've walked in circles on this, Miss Dox. We have no evidence to link her to anything. Yet." Paris held up that finger of which she was so fond from time to time. "For now, we've sent out people. We have to have faith that they'll get the job done, and bring us home some concrete evidence."

"In the meanwhile, we continue to prepare to play footsie with the pirates. Of course, I have no intention of playing fair with the pirates, so that's been keeping me occupied," Rita smirked and wobbled her head for a few seconds.

"My Mother is many things, and good at digging up things people want hidden is one of them, so I'm confident between her skills and Az'Prel, they will succeed." Dox replied, clamming down slightly as the momentary rush of energy was starting to wear off, leaving her feeling a little pain. "Hnaev... This is stupid." She muttered to herself, stiffly stepping over to the replicator

"I'm assuming that means you are continuing to form contingency plans? Good." Dox replied, ordering up the programmed muscle relaxers from Doctor Dael. As the medication shimmered into existence, Dox tossed it into her mouth and chased it down with a sip of coffee before returning to the couch.

"And I can stick to the existing plan and try and sway the Romulan Baroness once we get there. It'll be smart to try and have this covered from as many angles as possible. As many ways that we can win from. The debt she owns me and my Mother should supercede her debt to the so-called queen." Dox scoffed slightly as she said 'queen' being fed up with the pirate nonsense that had gotten people killed. "And I can channel my Mother if I need to to remind her of her honor-debt."

"I'm glad to hear you are willing to step in for your mother with the Romulans, Miss Dox," Rita added, turning to face Mnhei'sahe on the couch. "I do indeed have plans and schemes, and I fully agree- we will assault this problem from every conceivable angle. Because I will not lose Enalia Telven to the bloody pirates, and I will be well and fully damned if beating them is going to cost her soul. We can do this, we can do it right, and we can beat them Starfleet style- with cooperation, and the rule of law."

"As a crew, all working together for the greater good- not as self-serving pirates," Rita added with a bit softer tone. "It sounds like either I've worn you down, or you are starting to see your new friends through clearer eyes?"

"Not them... Me." Dox sighed as her gaze drifted to the window and the expanse of space beyond the ship. "I've never had an illusions about what they were. Even when I was young, we tried to maintain a... professional distance. But it was still a part of my life growing up."

Trailing off for a bit, the emotionally exhausted young Romulan sunk slightly as she took several breaths, trying to find the words she didn't want to say. "For a time, I couldn't stop myself from thinking that sooner or later, you were all going to figure out that I didn't belong here. That I didn't... deserve this life. I thought... maybe that was all I deserved."

"I didn't believe it myself. Why would anyone else?" As she spoke, she lifted a hand to the green and purple drapes Mona had put around the windows of their shared quarters, feeling the silky material. "When the Captain brought me in, it felt almost good. Like a relief to feel wanted, even if it was a life I worked so hard to get away from. But then, I started to want this more. I started getting to know all of you better. You, Asa, Sonak. I started to almost believe I might actually belong here. Or... at least it's what I wanted."

As she spoke, her tone got more serious and that anger from before began to rumble below the surface."They sing a pretty little song about 'freedom' and a romanticized idea of something that doesn't exist. But it's the opposite of freedom. It's exchanging one kind if oppression for another. It's peace through violence above all else. It's all a lie."

She turned back towards Rita with a look if determination in her thick, bloodshot eyes. "I won't let myself live a lie again. This is my truth, Rita. Here. And even if I can't believe that I deserve this... to be whole... every day, I can at least want to."

"Hey," Rita patted the knee of the convalescing pilot. "You DO belong here. You have earned everything you have on the Hera. You earned that seat on the bridge. You earned the chief's position. You earned that rank. You earned the love of a good woman, and the friends who love you. Nothing was given to you here to try to buy your loyalty or your compliance. This is all a life you built for yourself, and you deserve it. You should be proud of yourself."

Making sure she had eye contact, Rita Paris offered one of those dazzling smiles that was a little different. It was almost maternal, in an odd way. "I'm proud of you. In the time you've been here, you've come so far. And I know I have opposed the pirate thing and that it has made it harder for you to work with me but... I can't lose you to your past, Mnhei'sahe."

"You are so much more than that, and I just... will NOT let that happen. Not to you. I'll save Enalia from it, and damned if I'll lose you to it." The comely commander sighed, looking away and nodding. "Maybe I've been a bit rabid about it, but... you know me when I get determined."

Chuckling slightly, Dox nodded. "Indeed. But it's what we need, now more than ever. And... It's what I needed. Thank you."

“You are a dear friend, and a fine officer, Miss Dox. As poorly as I may be managing to show it, I genuinely do want what’s best for you,” Rita admitted. “Eighty years from now, when we meet Kodria again for the first time, I daresay that Captain Dox might be a retired Starfleet captain, or she might be a private merchant. Or maybe she will be a pirate, who knows? But that’s a very, very long time from now. A lot can happen between now and then, and frankly, I am working to change that future verdict in the present. I can’t live for the future… but we can improve it if we work together, and we try hard enough. I have to believe that.”

"Together then." Dox nodded. "That's how we'll do it." Then the young officer chuckled slightly as her eyes, thick from crying, seemed to droop just a tad. "Preferably after the muscle relaxers."