Muddy Waters

Posted on Sun Jun 30th, 2019 @ 10:51am by Jaeih Dox-t'Aan & Commander Rita Paris & Az'Prel

Mission: Fractured Fairy Tales
Location: Deck 11, Security Ring of the Brig.
Timeline: 2396 - After the Escape of Davos and Cleopatra Mudd

Sitting uncomfortably in the security ring of the brig located in the center of Deck 11 of the U.S.S. Hera, the former Tal'Shiar agent and newly minted Intelligence Operative for the Hera, Jaeih Dox, wasn't feeling particularly intelligent.

Sitting next to the Vulcan refugee from another dimension, Az'Prel, the elder Romulan woman felt like a child and a fool. Earlier that very day, she accompanied Az'Prel and the two security officers, V'Nus and S'Rina Wil'i'ams to a secret level of the Artan Family Fortress where the Hera was still docked, in search of the Vulcan woman's missing daughter. The woman they now knew as Cleopatra Mudd.

After braving a plethora of death traps, the quartet liberated a young half Vulcan, half Human woman from what appeared to be a harsh and torturous captivity. But nothing was what it seemed, and they were all deceived by an elaborate and technologically advanced illusion that allowed the faux-victim to be beamed directly to the Hera's brig, where she immediately incapacitated them all and made off with the prisoner and her father, Davo Mudd.

So now, while the Klingon sisters were taken elsewhere for their debriefing, Jaeih and Az'Prel sat and waited for their own. Sitting in an interrogation room while they did so didn't exactly make Jaeih feel comfortable or confident. But that was fine by her, as she had no desire to feel any better. She preferred sulking in her own anger at her failure at the moment. She had failed, and allowed herself to be conned. She deserved nothing more. That was all she could think about. That, and whether or not this ship was truly a safe place for herself or her own daughter.

As the door whooshed open, the gold-clad commander in the mod minidress of another age entered. Commander Rita Paris was the First Officer of the USS Hera, and in many cases the captain delegated such missions and duties to her, while the captain herself interfaced with Starfleet and the Admiralty, as well as the numerous details of the Artan Fleet that needed tending.

Which meant that the onus of this particularly catastrophe was upon her shoulders. But, she knew the two women she faced as she sat down at the simple table, and knew them better than one might expect. As she slid her hands over her skirt in a practiced maneuver, then pulled her chair in, she faced them with a surprisingly neutral expression.

“I’ve debriefed the security officers who accompanied you on this mission, and I have reviewed the sensor logs as well as the brig sensor logs, so I am very well aware of what transpired on this mission. I’ve chosen to debrief you both at the same time, because this is far from an interrogation, and I feel that between you both I will receive a more comprehensive report than separate.” The business of the debriefing in place, Paris’ tone softened a bit.

“I know that for both of you this is difficult. But this is necessary, as you both know, and I very much want to hear your perspectives on the mission, as well as how it is affecting you. I am also very well aware that you are both planning to trip over yourselves in your haste to blame yourselves for what you perceive as personal failings in this mission.” Making clear eye contact with each of them in turn, the ancient astronaut of a golden age emphasized her point. “I’m not here to listen to your self-recriminations. I would like to hear the facts, clear and simple, then we’ll discuss what could have been done differently, and then we will move on to how to prevent such situations in the future.”

With all of that said, she paused to observe the reactions of both women before she addressed the Romulan intelligence agent. “Mrs. Dox, I would like to hear from you first. Mission summary.”

Folding her hands in front of her on the table, Jaeih Dox kept a flat expression, doing her level best to not betray her own swirling emotions in the moment.

"We arrived at the pre-determined coordinates as informed by the intelligence gathered in Mudd's questioning. Once we had gained access to the chamber, we then had to work our way through a series of... for lack of a better term... death traps. The majority of said obstacles were exceedingly low-tech. Trap doors, spring-loaded spikes and the like, the details of which have been recorded for review. After a slow but extended sojourn through these traps, we arrived at the central point, a series of dilapidated holding cells where we encountered the subject."

The elder Romulan woman continued with a dispassionate tone. "The subject appeared to be in a state of extreme physical malnutrition and systemic abuse. The cell reeked of waste and all visual cues told us that we were seeing... what we expected to see." It was the first moment where her guard slipped in the retelling.

"I requested, at that moment, that the Petty Officers utilize their EVA suit scanners to check for deception. Holograms, androids, theatrical make up. Anything that could be used to deceive our eyes. The scans failed to see through the holographics we later learned were being employed. There was only a minor discrepancy in her DNA that the Petty Officer could not explain."

Taking a brief second to take a breath, Jaeih continued. "I expressed my concerns to stay vigilant as Az'Prel made contact with the subject and physically removed the antiquated door from the cell. This further raised questions about the situation as a half-Vulcan should have been exactly as capable of that same feat of strength, but feeling as though we were as on guard as was possible, allowed the situation to continue."

It was clear that her attempts at remaining dispassionate were beginning to fail as, more and more, she strayed from the simple facts to include her thoughts. As she noticed this, she cleared her throat and re-centered herself. "The subject appeared to be in a state of extreme emotional distress and it... appeared that she needed assistance. Az'Prel attempted communication, but the subject's mannerisms had concerned me that..."

Pausing again, Jaeih's frustration was becoming more evident as she let the slightest of scoffs out. "I was... concerned for her mental wellbeing. At which point I requested the Petty Officers follow me as I stepped back to give her more room."

"After an extended discussion in which Az'Prel offered... the subject... a protein bar... she was able to convince the subject to return with us on the grounds that we could prove we had Mudd in custody." At which point, Jaeih stopped, putting her fingers up to rub the bridge of her nose as she took an extended breath.

Finally, her emotions had gotten the better of her. No tears welled up as might have with her daughter, but instead there was a deep and painful anger bubbling beneath the surface as Jaeih editorialized. "We should have known! At that point, we should have known better. There were a dozen ways to convince her that Az'Prel was really her mother. A confession from Mudd made no sense. But it seemed like what she needed emotionally, so I overlooked my suspicions and tried to help her like a fool!"

Nodding, with pursed lips, the first officer had a surprisingly effective poker face in place as she listened. Turning to regard the Vulcan freedom fighter, Paris asked the next question. “Miss Az’Prel, your perspective on Mrs. Dox’s accounting of the events thus far?”

The Vulcan woman was trying to hold it together, her best meditative masque in place. When she spoke, however, the violent storm of emotions inside of her were as plain as day to the two women skilled at reading such things in Vulcans. "The accounting to that point is accurate. Mudd is fond of low tech traps and adding higher tech to them towards the end of his dens. As for the cage door, it was secured with half pin barrel hinges so lifting it away was suspiciously easy and I let the vision of my daughter cloud my judgment."

"However, it did weigh at least seventy kilos so there was a chance that a half Terran, half Vulcan in the malnourished and abused state that she presented would have had severe difficulty in moving it. Especially if she had been mentally conditioned." She paused a moment to tightly grip the bandage on her wounded hand, squeezing the cut she had placed there when she had made her blood oath to kill Mudd after he had escaped her again.

Furrowing her brow, she continued. "My tricorder was able to confirm that she was my daughter, but that was all that I scanned for. I trusted in the scanners of the others and only allowed myself to see the woman before me as a victim of the same man whom I myself had been victimized. I wanted to offer her closure that he would face justice for his crimes and to be able to face him one last time and to reveal in person his lies and deceit. I allowed emotion to cloud my judgment." Az'Prel's breathing was heavier now - as if she were fighting someone or something.

“I see. Now, let me offer you a revised account of this mission,” Commander Paris offered. “I interrogated Mudd, attempting to con the conman, as it were. Whether it was successful or not, and whether any of the intelligence we received is actionable remains to be seen. As one of those bits of intel was the location of Miss Az’Prel’s daughter, I dispatched a team to investigate.”

“The team encountered heavy resistance, and when they located the target, all signs indicated a pattern of abuse and neglect consistent with Mudd’s previously established pattern of behavior. In attempting to offer a compassionate response, rather than further traumatizing the victim, the Intel team made contact, coaxed the traumatized prisoner out, and transported them to the USS Hera. Once aboard, the subject evidenced extreme anxiety and would not be satisfied with anything less than personally witnessing the incarceration of her captor. This was approved by command, and the intelligence team was beamed to the brig to reduce further trauma to the victim.” Throughout all of this report, Paris was maintaining a stoicism unlike her usual demeanor, more akin to what her audience might project under ordinary circumstances.

“According to scans and conjecture, upon entering the detention area in which Mudd was imprisoned, the subject exercised a multiphasic forcefield synchronizer to bypass the brig cell forcefield, while disgorging from within herself a device of unknown origin which temporarily rendered all personnel nearby paralyzed. Employing a slow but effective transporter, they both beamed out together, thus making good their escape.” Sitting back, Paris’ hands were still folded on the table before her.

“The Science department is currently hypothesizing that the subject who self-identified as ‘Cleopatra Mudd’ is in fact an advanced cyborg, incorporating elements of the Mudd androids we have already encountered, along with a number of modifications which include sensor camouflage, flesh manipulation, nanomachines and advanced sensor capability.” At this, Paris sighed.

“That’s the official word. Now the unofficial word.” Paris fixed both of them in turn with her gaze. “I sent you on that mission, ill-prepared and knowing that you would both be emotionally compromised. But I sent you anyway. I authorized the beamout. I authorized the entry into the brig. Every decision and choice that was made which proved to be a mistake was mine, not yours.” Holding up a hand to forestall the arguments she knew were incoming, the First Officer indicated that she wasn’t finished.

“You showed compassion for someone clearly in need. You tried to help someone with whose abuse you are familiar with, with whose plight you understand and empathize. You let down your guard because you were conned by someone who has spent their entire life learning from the master. She manipulated you, used your emotional attachments and your maternal instincts against you both. Neither of you did a single solitary thing on this mission which I would not have done myself.” Rolling her eyes, Paris continued. “Which is to say, I was also hoodwinked, also deceived and this failure is actually resting on neither of you. Both of you and the Wil’I’Ams sisters comported yourselves honorably, professionally and with the compassion that is the hallmark of Starfleet.”

“Truth be told, I am proud of both of you. Your training screamed at you to believe none of it, but you overrode it in order to show kindness, to offer a hand to one in need and to make the best of a terrible situation. I failed you, at the command level. So while I know you will internalize this and blame yourself despite my words, turn it into bitter self-loathing that will give you cause to never let your ‘soft feelings’ interfere with your work ever again,” Paris pointed to Jaieh. “And you will remonstrate yourself for allowing years of pent-up emotion regarding your daughter to cloud your judgment and see yourself as a failure as a logician,” Paris turned to point at Az’Prel, “I will not hear it.”

“Neither of you failed. You did the right thing, and again, what I myself would have done. Scans showed her to be what she appeared to be. Transporter records show the same. We could not have anticipated the technologies at work, nor that we were being used to orchestrate a breakout. There was no possible way to have known any of this, and I won’t having you two blaming yourselves.” Leaning in toward them again, Paris raised a Vulcan-esque eyebrow.

“I still retain full confidence in you both, and I will not hesitate to entrust such missions to you moving forward. I will be happy to hear your arguments and recriminations here, in this room, today only. But when we leave this room, you had damn well better believe that your compassion, your mercy and your kindness in this affair were not detriments that must be stamped out. I will NOT allow Mudd to do that to either of you. I would appreciate it if you would do the same… because you are better than that, both of you.” With that, Paris sat back, unclasped her hands and held her arms out, palms up.

“I will now entertain rebuttals,” she added.

Sitting slightly back in her chair, Jaeih crossed her arms for a moment in a slightly defensive posture. Rita Paris' words were the exact opposite of what the world-weary former Tal'Shiar agent wanted to hear. On some level, Jaeih realized that she both expected and WANTED to be reprimanded. Chastised for her failures. There was a comfort in that for her and she was bizarrely uncomfortable with Paris' message. She wanted to be punished as she had been punishing herself. And in a strange way, she had been.

Uncrossing her arms, the elder Romulan bristled for a moment, forever surprised at how much respect the golden clad human, many years younger than her in actual life experiences, commanded. And in spite of her best efforts, Paris' arguments were all but air-tight. But for one detail which stuck in her head and in spite of herself, it was a detail that was bothering her even more than her own self-recrimination at the moment. Paris' words, 'I failed you."

"No. If none of this was our fault, and based on your logic it isn't, then how is it yours, commander? No speeches about the burdens of command. If I don't get to blame myself for this incident, then neither do you." Jaieh said, leaning forward slightly, with a stern but sincere expression on her face. "We blame them and work to ensure we are not tricked by their technology again."

“The command decisions were mine. I gave the authorization for the brig visit without insisting on procedure- a proper medical screening to insure that she was not exactly what she turned out to be,” Paris explained, talking with her hands as she did so. “Instead, I let compassion for a perceived victim interfere with my own judgment and I bypassed procedures which, as First officer AND head of Security, are both my responsibilities. In doing so, I endangered you both, my security officers and the lives of everyone aboard this vessel.”

“Had I adhered to protocol, we would now be having a very different conversation, about the brawl that began in the transporter room, or when Dr, Dael discovered the sensor camouflage, or at any number of points where this situation could have been avoided had I obeyed the procedures I myself put in place. So that, Mrs. Dox, is how I failed you,” the old-school officer explained. “Along with inadvertently setting loose a madman on the rest of the universe. But that we will be dealing with later. In the here and now, the health and well-being of the people under my command who have been abused by others is my only concern.”

There was an edge of rawness in the last bit of phrasing and the Commander’s chin dimpled a bit, as it leaked through just how upset she was over this. But she was striving mightily to insure that she remained professional for the sake of the two agents who had been manipulated by the very emotions both struggled to distance themselves from.

"We will learn from this experience. And we'll not be fooled again," the Starfleet siren offered with resolve in her voice. "Miss Az'Prel?"

The Vulcan woman calmed herself with a quick meditation technique before replying. "You are correct. He will not receive a third chance to fool us. Twice now, have I hesitated due to the passions in my Vulcan heart for my daughter. I will not allow that to sway my logic again and I will ensure that we are prepared. Not only is Davo Mudd a threat, but so is his daughter, Cleopatra Mudd."

"I'm a firm believer in redemption, ladies," Paris began, then laid it out there. "But sometimes that has to come after incarceration and rehabilitation. We won't give up on your daughter, nor on capturing Mudd. Now we know who we're dealing with, so next time we'll be prepared. And rest assured, ladies, there will most definitely be a next time." After having said that, the compassionate commander eyed Az'Prel.

"I'm sorry for how this worked out, Az'Prel. I had genuinely hoped that you would be reunited with your daughter, and this mission would chalk up another happy ending." The buxom bombardier sighed, a seismic affair. "That is not to be... for now. But where there's life, there's hope, and that can move mountains. I can't order you talk to anyone about this, but I can strongly advise it. I suspect... given how I would feel had I been through what you have today... that those feelings would not be terribly welcome. With that said, I suggest you go speak to Mr. Sonak, and seek his guidance as a kolinahr master. In times of emotional duress, logic can be a balm to the mind and katra."

Putting a hand gently on Az'Prel's arm, Jaeih added. "Mnhei'sahe also speaks extremely highly of his council. He has helped her endure a great many trials. And, as we have both been reminded often in our time here, we are stronger together."

"I will consider your words, and perhaps I will seek out his counsel in this. He is of a similar mind to that of my old Logician Master." As she spoke, Az'Prel finally released the death grip she had on the cut on her hand. "When she was born, I had named my daughter A'Lon. It is the name I have kept in my heart for her all these years."

Listening, Jaeih pursed her lips for a moment, remembering having had to hide Mnhei'sahe with the human name of 'Melanie' for decades. It was a reminder that while the two women were very different and led vastly different lives, there was a similar flavor to their experiences that made it easy for one to understand the other.

Squeezing the arm of her Vulcan friend just a little harder, Jaeih spoke with both sympathy and resolve. "That is a beautiful name. Since coming to this ship, I have learned that nothing is impossible. If there is any way in any reality for you to be reunited with A'Lon again, know that we will find it together."

"And know that if she is truly lost to Mudd, then together we will mourn for that loss and together, we will find your justice. I swear this to you, my Rinam."

It was a word Rita Paris knew well, as it was one of the only Romulan words she knew by heart. It was the word for 'sister', also given to the golden clad commander by Jaeih's daughter, Mnhei'sahe. It was a word that Rita knew that the Dox women did not give out casually. It was a claiming of family, and an oath they took quite seriously. It warmed her heart to know that in this time of crisis, the elder Dox was determined not to leave her partner alone in this, and that she herself had come so far. From that suspicious and hostile woman who had hoarded secrets and stoically maintained silence, to the woman willing to risk so much for the adopted family she'd found.

"And every resource Starfleet can bring to bear will be used to that end, make no mistake. That concludes this debriefing," Paris announced, fighting with less than stellar success to fight a flood of tears at those declarations. Then rising from the table, the old-fashioned Earth girl walked around to the other side, and slowly enfolded both women into a light hug from behind.

"This isn't part of the official record... but I'm sorry, ladies. You have the room for as long as you need, and the logs after the announced end of the debriefing will be purged." Releasing them both, Paris left the room, to give the two women what she suspected would be some much-needed privacy.

The statuesque Commander left, Jaeih gave her a simple nod and a slight smile. A non-verbal 'thank you' between two women who had come far since their first meeting on Earth so many months ago. Then, the Romulan woman turned to her friend as the door hissed shut as Paris left. "Learning to master your emotions often means confronting them. If you would like to share your thoughts with me, I am here. Even if only to vent."

Rinam was one of the Romulan words that Az'Prel knew deeply, among other familial words. In her universe they had been deeply important to the survivors of Romulus and she did not know if they held the same meaning here, but as Commander Paris had given them that light hug, moisture had built up in her eyes thinking about it and her own family in both this universe and in her old.

As they now had the room to themselves with a promise of privacy, she leaned into her best friend in this universe and let a few hot tears roll down her cheeks as she reached up and rested a hand on Jaeih's. "Thank you, Ko-kai. You give me the strength I am unable to find." Instead of using the Romulan word for sister, she used the Vulcan one, which held just as much meaning to her.

"Then it is yours to have." Jaeih said softly. She had been a staunch supporter of Romulan/Vulcan Reunification and knew the Vulcan language well, having taught it to her own daughter. "I can only imagine the pain you are going through at this moment. It is... what he has done to her is the reason I worked so hard to hide Mnhei'sahe for so many years. But what was done can be undone. And until that day, you will have all the strength I can give."

"You will master your emotions. Of that, I have no doubt. But I will always help you to understand them when they are too much for you." Jaeih said, as she wiped away her friend's tears. "Your emotions exist. And you can always be free to experience them however you need to with me. You do not need to bear this burden alone."

"Thank you, Ko-kai. I have lost my universe, my family, my comrades, my daughter twice..." The Vulcan woman took a deep, rattling breath, her emotional barriers crumbling as the last of her world seemed to fall. "You and the crew here are all I know and you are the only true family I have now. Thank you for being here."

"Kwon-sum." Jaeih said softly, the Vulcan word for 'always' as she leaned in and put her arms around her broken friend and newfound sister.