Concessions to Family and Fate

Posted on Thu Sep 12th, 2019 @ 2:33pm by Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox & Deihu (Senator) Verelan t'Rul
Edited on on Sun Sep 22nd, 2019 @ 6:26pm

Mission: Family Detention
Location: D'deridex-class Warbird, 'The People's will'
Timeline: 2396

What passed as morning came much too quickly as a bright light over the bed snapped on, yanking lieutenant Mnhei'sahe Dox from what broken sleep she had managed. Subtly was not a priority on Warbird's, it seemed. Groggily she sat up and noticed that her bare accommodations were ever so slightly less empty than they were the night before in her so-called VIP Quarters on the D’deridex class warbird, ‘The People’s Will’, upon which she was a prisoner.

On the small dining table was a folded set of dark green, simple clothing. Below the table rested a pair of basic black boots, both of which she assumed she was meant to wear for the day ahead, likely beamed in while she slept. Then a low, harsh chiming sound filled the room and a computerized voice in Rihan spoke.

=^=Morning Ablutions.=^=

Rolling and stretching out what felt like pins stabbed in her back and neck from the less than restful sleep, Dox groaned as she looked towards the refresher through the small door to her left. A part of her wanted to simply sit there. Resist in every way. Make no concessions. But that would result in further unknown torture for her captive mother, and less of a chance for her to do what she needed to do, though she had no idea how she could. But she knew that she couldn’t do anything alone and trapped in her room. And the only chance of getting out of that room was trying to earn some measure of trust from her Grandmother. And as unlikely and dangerous as that seemed, it was the only thing she could think of, at least for now.

She rubbed her bare wrist where her Rihannsu ceremonial wedding bracelet had been worn since her wedding, now gone and she scrunched her face angrily for a moment before calming down and thinking, Calm down. Find your center. Keep your cool. Remember everything mother ever told you about your people.

So she decided to concede. Play nice, listen and bide her time. Try and use that time to find a way… ANY way... to contact the Hera. Let them know that it was a trap. That whatever else her grandmother wanted, she and her mother were most likely bait to draw the Hera to the Romulans. She had to let her family know to abandon her and her mother if need be. It was the only way she could ensure that the Hera’s deadly secrets remained secrets. It was the only way to keep her true family safe.

Maybe not the only way, she thought grimly.

NO! Stop. You'll think of something. Find some way out of this. Some way to contact the Hera, Dox thought as she sat there in her not so terribly gilded cage. You have a family to get home to. Children coming. You have to focus on that, and figure something out. She wants to talk, so talk. You’re not Rita, but you’ve managed a handful of half-decent speeches. Use your head like you actually have one, Mnhei’sahe.

So, begrudgingly, she made the first concession and felt sick to her stomach for how good the simple sonic shower felt. She hated herself for enjoying the basic luxury in that moment as she finished up, brushed her teeth and put on the provided clothing that fit too well for her comfort. As she did, she folded up her own worn dirty clothes and placed them on the end of the bed just to exercise some sense of control over something. The outfit provided was a plain, dark greenish gray pair of pants and a tunic cut not unlike a Rihannsu uniform top, but plain and unadorned. She refused to look at herself in the mirror of the refresher alcove as It’s meaning was not subtle to her: You are ours.

Knowing she was likely being watched and monitored, she smoothed out the top as if it were her familiar Crimson Starfleet uniform out of awkward habit, immediately mentally chastising herself for the action. Dox folded her arms behind her back and looked out the window at the streaking, smeared stars at warp that represented freedom now more than ever, to wait for whatever was next as she let out a long sigh.

An hour passed.

Two.

Three.

Four.

A simple lunch was served, with still no contact initiated.

Another hour passed.

Another.

Another.

By the time Deihu t’Rul entered the relatively expansive quarters of Mnhei’sahe Dox, the young woman had been pacing like a caged animal for hours, left to her own devices and her own imagination. Smiling pleasantly, the Senator raised her eyebrows slightly as she exhaled. “Well! My apologies for keeping you waiting… it has been a rather busy day. But then, it’s not like you have anywhere to go, I suppose. And it did give you time to think, did it not?”

Noting the lack of reaction to her pointed statement, the politician sat down on the edge of the bed. “So… I am curious to hear your thoughts today. Planning perhaps to fashion a blade from a shoe sole, take me hostage and capture the ship to turn it around and take it as a prize capture to Federation space?”

Letting out a breath to curb her frustration, Dox shook her head as she stood, her arms folded behind her back. She took a second to collect both her thoughts and her composure, knowing full well that how she reacted was being observed as much as anything else.

“No.” Dox replied flatly. “Tactically, that would be remarkably stupid on every level. But beyond that, and in spite of the situation, I don't actually want to hurt you. Especially if any of what you said was true.” As angry as Dox was and as frustrated as she was, she still couldn’t quite get past a lingering desire to understand the woman sitting across from her who was undeniably family.

"I've been thinking about my mother and if she's alright." Dox continued, with a slight dip to her voice.

“For now,” t’Rul absently picked at a piece of lint on her knee. “The continuation of that status relies entirely upon you and your actions, however.” Pausing to eye the young woman critically, the elder Romulan’s piercing gaze was both appraising and unsettling. When she spoke again, she switched to an accented Federation standard which, while not flawless, still managed to sound dignified.

“So what will it be today, I wonder?” the silver-haired matron mused, looking up with a wearily bemused expression fixed upon her face. “Do you plan to perhaps deliver some threats if your mother is harmed, perhaps? Some vows that your shipmates will come for you? A reminder that kidnapping a Starfleet officer is a violation of any number of treaties? A litany of facts of which I am already well aware with which you intend to attempt to intimidate or bully me from your position of strength here as a prisoner perhaps? What delight will you offer me today, granddaughter?”

"No. No threats. No reminders of treaties. No intimidation." Dox took a breath, keeping herself as calm as she could manage in spite of everything while replying in her native Rihan. "Right now, my primary concern is maintaining my mother's safety. So... my offer... is that I'll do what I need to do to protect her. I'll listen. And short of directly betraying my oaths, I'll obey."

"Mmmm, sullen acceptance is a start I suppose," the Senator continued in Federation standard before switching back to Rihan, her tone that of boredom and disappointment. "Not terrifyingly practical, but at least an improvement over yesterday. Tell me, Mnhei'sahe, why are you here? I know the answer of course, but having given you nothing but time to think, I wish to see if you possess the capacity for analytical thinking and practical application. In theory, Starfleet gave you quite the education, so I am curious if it made you intelligent... or if you are only an obedient and often angry drone. So I am curious to know your thoughts. Why do you imagine that you are here under these particular circumstances at this particular juncture?"

The elder Rihanna woman was certainly adept at pushing buttons as Dox had to continually bite her tongue with each passing moment. Each question was a test with too many ways to fail where even success meant giving up more of herself.

What is said is rarely as important as what is NOT said with our people, Melanie., Dox's mother often told her as a child.

Here, Dox knew she was being baited. Insults designed to push her to give up information out of pride. But then Dox thought on her Grandmother's own words from the day before. In her own frustration, she had all but told Dox what she needed to do: play along. And she hoped she was right as she replied. "I suppose I'm here as a bargaining chip of sorts. As you said, there are many voices in this chorus interested in what I might know as a Starfleet Intelligence Officer. But I'm also the only Starfleet Intelligence Officer that happens to be your granddaughter. Meaning that if I give you what I know willingly… abandon Starfleet for you... you have the most to gain. That makes your voice potentially the loudest. Gives you the most leverage."

It was the truth, but only part of the reality. The full reality was right there in the words unsaid and Dox hoped she was right. That her Grandmother might actually want her to let her know that she knew without saying so. That she could be smart enough to not be baited.

Then, Dox turned to look out the window again for a moment with a wistful expression and a softer tone as she gave up a card willingly, knowing that her only hope truly might lie in if her Grandmother actually did care in her own way, "Thought I suppose it would be... naive... to want to believe you also meant what you said about actually wanting some personal measure of restoration of family in the process. But I'm choosing to be naive."

"Yes, of course," t'Rul rolled her eyes and retorted mockingly. "Because if I expressed any sort of sentiment it must always be a lie, a manipulation designed to maneuver you into doing my bidding, pursuing my agenda, playing my masterful games of manipulation, Because I'm a Romulan, and that's what we do, isn't it? Of course, you are just a bargaining chip. Of course, you are just a pawn in the game. Of course, you cannot have any true value in and of yourself. Of course, nothing I said could possibly have been the truth." Shaking her head, the elder Rihan woman rose from the bed, dusting off her slacks as she did so. Sighing wearily, she eyed the Starfleet officer, shaking her head with what looked convincingly like genuine regret.

"Well, I see we've made little progress today. Honestly, I'm beginning to doubt we'll make any progress at all, will we? This is just a waste of time, isn't it? I should just turn you and your mother over to the Tal Shiar and be done with it, shouldn't I? Rendal was right... this was all just a silly waste of time, attempting to reason with you. You are too angry, too suspicious and too stubborn. Trying to reach you is a waste of everyone's time." Shaking her head, the silver-haired Senator turned to leave.

Closing her eyes a moment, Dox was cursing herself for being so easily manipulated emotionally. She could see the pattern clearly and didn't see an option other than letting her shields down more than she was comfortable doing. Letting her captor in.

But she was cursing herself even more not for believing her grandmother. But for wanting to.

"Hu'nanov..." Dox said in a raspy, broken voice. The first time she had called the woman anything, much less 'Grandmother'.

"I... I am trying to... I want to trust you. And ... I am afraid of what it means that I do."

"What you had asked me yesterday. If we would ever have talked had you not brought me here." Dox turned to the elder woman with an almost desperate expression as she told the truth. "I would have, eventually. I would have tried to find a way to reach out. I don't know who I truly am. And when I first saw a picture of you I was scared. I realized that I was scared of what the answer to my question might be."

"But I also need to know those answers. Of who I am... where I come from." Dox conceded, hanging her head slightly.

There was a brief moment of silence before the elder woman turned to regard the younger. When she spoke, her voice was soft and calm. "Our people are from the hills of i'Ramnau, in the province of Ihhliae, where I grew up, and were our lands and titles remain today. It borders on the river of Fethraie, and its rich, fertile country, renowned for its herds of wild hlai, which makes for the finest hlai'vnau in the region. Our vineyards produce the richest Lehe'jhme wine on all of ch'Rihan. Generations have lived, raised children and died there. The house of Rul has represented the Ihhliae region in the Imperial Senate since the fall of t'Rehu, and it is my hope that perhaps that line may yet go unbroken," the Senator paused to let that sink in for a moment before continuing.

"Have you ever heard of the Prisoner's Dilemma, Mnhei'sahe Dox?" she asked rather directly.

Looking back, Dox thought for a second, her mind swimming. "That two prisoners serve to benefit mutually from cooperation or suffer from either one failing to? But the term 'prisoner' is a metaphor. In this scenario, that means you are the one whose fate is partially linked to mine, as much as my Mother's, isn't it?"

"I don't just mean politically. Personally. You stand to lose the family you've wanted as well." Dox was beginning to understand that perhaps her Grandmother actually wanted this to work for herself as well. That she had been telling the truth about her personal motives.

Rubbing an ear nervously, Dox's attempts at maintaining her posture were gone. "And... thank you. I've... I've seen pictures of i'Ramnau and Ihhiliae. It's beautiful."

"You try to change the subject when you are uncertain. It's not a good habit," the elder woman smirked, but she nodded. "Yes, that is the dilemma, and yes, that is the situation here. There is a slightly greater chance of success with trust than not, and that is the great gamble, isn't it? Out here all alone, with no resources, with no choices, when offered what looks like a chance, do you take the chance that it might be genuine and offer your trust, or do you distrust, remain silent and hope that it will work out more favorably? Bearing in mind that the other parties involved have their own motivations, yes... but there is the chance that they might just be honest and truthful with you."

In that moment, the older woman's eyes softened, and in them the desire to reach the young woman was clear. If she was indeed manipulating Dox, she was doing a masterful job as she reached out hesitantly toward the young woman's plump cheek, not reaching it, but stopping herself short. "I can see so much of your father in you... you have his eyes, and his jaw. Not his nose, for certain, and definitely not his hair. And he always did tend toward the portly side," she chuckled. "Just like your grandfather."

"Learn of your people, Mnhei'sahe," the silver-tressed Senator pleaded. "Let me teach you of our family, of your heritage... your TRUE heritage, not the lies you grew up being told, or the rumors the galaxy spreads of us. Let me show you who we truly are, and you can make up your own mind as to who YOU are, and who you wish to be. If you will not do it for your people or your lineage, then do it for yourself. You said you want to know who you are, and where you come from... and that I offer you freely."

There was a tension in the room that hung between the two, an electric thing. Breathing and alive. Dox could feel the hairs on her body standing edge at the almost touch of a moment ago.

Almost shaking, the younger woman knew that she and her mother were bait. That the Tal'Shiar sought the secrets of the Hera, and through her they could get them. And with those secrets, the kind of devastation they could cause was incalculable.

But she also looked into the face looking back, so much like her own, and believed her. And worse, wanted to know what her grandmother was offering to teach. And perhaps, in trust... there was hope, Dox thought, praying that she wasn't deluding herself. Hope that the two-way door of trust might give her a kind of leverage of her own. A place to argue that what the Tal'Shiar wanted was more dangerous than her Grandmother could understand. Maybe.

Remember Mona... Dox thought to herself in that quick instant. Remember Enalia and Rita and Asa and the Hera. Remember YOURSELF.

As all that swirled in the heart and mind of the red-headed Rihannsu, her eyes never broke from her grandmother's piercing gaze as she nodded ever so slightly, the words catching in her throat as her voice broke and she prayed she was doing the right thing. "I do. I... I want... I need to know, please. I accept your offer."

The eyes of the career politician searched those of the portly pilot, seeking the truth there. She'd maintained the bio-detection field for her own safety upon entering the room- there was every possibility that on the second day of her captivity that her granddaughter might well still be violent, and were she to make physical contact the young woman would be beamed into a detention cell to be turned over to Rendal's tender mercies immediately. When she had instinctively reached out to stroke the young woman's cheek, she'd had to physically restrain herself, although it had made her heart ache to do so, as she had felt she was truly reaching her.

Now, in those dark brown eyes, so unlike her own, but so very much like those of her husband's, gone these many years, and her son, taken from her by political machinations and circumstance and the Tal Shiar, she could see the hope of the next generation. A lifetime spent amongst liars and thieves, amongst hedonists and cowards and backstabbers and opportunists had granted her a keen sense of character and cleaving truth from falsehood. In those eyes she saw the genuine desire, even with some hesitation, to know her roots. To at least learn of her heritage and hear of her home, of her world, of her family. And in that moment, Veleran t'Rul committed her trust to the young woman whom she had convinced to be brave enough to commit to reaching out across the neutral zone to trust the grandmother she had never know... but wanted to so very clearly.

Touching the ornate bracelet at her wrist and compressing three of the jewels upon it in specific sequences, t'Rul deactivated the bio-field. When she heard the soft chime of the field's deactivation code in her ear, she opened her arms and offered them to the shiny-eyed stranger.

Watching, Dox's muscles tightened and she felt a shudder run through her and she could no longer tell if it was fear or anticipation. Part of her hated herself for wanting to know the woman before her. Part of her was terrified of what doing this might mean. Part of her legitimately still wanted to run as far and fast as she could, knowing full well there was nowhere to run to. Part of her wished she had stayed hidden. Never discovered those first truths that opened the doors that led her to where she was.

But there was another part in her that was growing louder. The ten-year-old girl who was desperate to know more about her home and what family she might have there that her mother denied her. The nineteen-year-old girl that stood in a spaceport on Earth with tears in her eyes trying to buy her way to ch'Rihan before turning around and eventually choosing when all other doors were closed to her Starfleet. The woman who only a little over a year earlier would have never even questioned her Grandmothers offers of the last two days and would have accepted it as a rescue from a life of misery. Those voices were growing louder as hesitantly she raised her own arms and slowly stepped into her Grandmother's arms.

Holding the shorter woman tightly against her lean frame, Veleran t'Rul kissed the top of those bright red curls and whispered, "Welcome home, granddaughter."