Chapter 20
The people in Sickbay had been kind enough to replicate a dress for her, since she’d been transported there wearing nothing but her underthings. Said dress was tossed haphazardly aside as soon as she got back to her quarters, and Rychel had gotten into the sonic shower with record timing. She’d lingered there far longer than she normally did, running over the events of the day in her head. She’d never really been in charge of a team before, and she was proud of herself for getting everyone out in more or less good condition. Cole’s wounds would heal up quickly enough, and her own wounds were more annoying than anything else. She knew that Starfleet would be pleased with their results, especially given the fact that they’d captured the Mehtak vessel. That would hopefully aid the fleet as a whole in defeating the Mehtak in the future.
She made a mental note to send a message to Desan. He would be proud of her for taking on her attackers, and fighting them off. She hadn’t been scared in the slightest, and the tips that he’d taught her had helped considerably. She knew that he wouldn’t be thrilled that she ended up in the middle of a firefight, but he would hopefully understand that was a part of serving in Starfleet. There was no such thing as a “safe” job aboard a starship.
Her thoughts drifted to Helik, and she wondered if the Mehtak ship had safely landed yet. She considered contacting him over the comm system, but decided that with everything that was going on that he likely had other things to attend to. She’d heard rumors that they would be taking the Mehtak ship to somewhere that an Engineering team could make a thorough investigation of it, and she personally hoped for a bit of leave time after their month racing around the sector.
Her shower completed, she looked at her reflection in the mirror for a few minutes before deciding to curl her hair. There was no better way to relax after a long Away Team mission than to pamper herself a bit. She straightened up her quarters a bit, tossing a few things into the replicator before heading back into her room. After a bit of consideration, she put on a yellow sundress, grabbed a curling iron, and began to curl her hair.
After filling out his report, Dakbar wandered the halls until his duty shift was officially over. He really wanted to be in on the Mehtak interrogation, but other officers were assigned to the task, much to Dakbar's dismay. Hopefully they wouldn't have much to say. It was unfortunate that the Ferengi had to be extinguished months ago. Doing so to the Mehtak now would be more than a little obvious. After checking on Rychel's status in Sickbay, and finding that she had been already released, he quickly headed to her quarters. He wouldn't put it past her to check out against medical orders and want to recuperate in privacy. Both of them had already spent their fair share in the medical ward.
The doors slid open at Dakbar's command and, as soon as he ascertained that Rychel was out of sight, he scanned the room with a small device to make sure his surveillance equipment was still operational. Sliding it back into his pocket, he picked up a dress from the floor, inhaled the scent that was on it, then tossed it onto the arm of a chair. He heard noises coming from the bathroom and he slowly approached the open door. "Rychel?" It was not his intention to alarm her today.
It wasn’t the first time that Dakbar had entered her quarters without ringing the chime, so Rychel was not surprised to hear his voice. “In here,” she called out, her voice cheerful. It had been a good day, all things considered. Sure, there were some painful parts, but fortunately modern medical science made that all better quite quickly.
Stepping into the doorway, he leaned against the rim of the entrance and looked her over. The majority of her injuries had been healed, though there was still some very slight bruising here and there. He saw the odd piece of equipment in her hand. "What are you doing," he asked, confused.
She grinned at him in the mirror. “Curling my hair,” she said. “I figured it’d be an interesting change of pace.” She sat down the hot iron, toggling it into the off position, before skipping over to Dakbar’s side.
"So that is what this is for..." He reached a hand out and touched it, then raised a ridged brow. Something like that could be used for all sorts of torture.
Rychel nodded. She wondered whether or not Cardassian women had any sorts of hair rituals, but decided that probably wasn’t the best question to ask Dakbar. He was so hesitant to speak to her about his people, or his past. Still, she knew that it could not be easy for him, and she wasn’t about to push him to do something he didn’t feel comfortable with.
“You like?” she asked, spinning around a bit so he could make a thorough inspection. She’d learned better than to ask Dakbar what he thought about something, as his responses were very rarely what she would have predicted.
“I-”
She didn’t know why she tried to ask for compliments. But still, she wasn’t deterred, because of how he’d acted in the Mehtak ship. He thought she was strong. Truly, that was the best compliment that he could have ever given her, and she was still positively glowing from it. She doubted that there was much of anything that would take that bit of job away from her.
“I’m trying not to dwell on the fact that I was transported into Sickbay wearing nothing but my underwear,” she said ruefully. She knew that she was going to have a stern word with whomever had requested the transport about warning people a bit in the future. Hopefully, with everything else that had occurred, there would be more interesting things to gossip about than a mostly-naked engineer.
He put a hand on her shoulder. "Then stop talking about it," he said pragmatically.
She grinned. “Fair enough. Fortunately, I think there was some better fodder for the rumor mill that showed up as I was leaving. The Captain was beamed in with a big hole in his chest. He looked terrible. Fortunately he has Sig. Sig’s a good doctor.”
That was certainly news. The Captain could possibly die? Dakbar tried not to look smug at the thought, though the fact that Sig could save the man did not rest well with the Cardassian. Still, there was little he could do to stop it, at least for now. Maybe he needed to turn his attentions on the medical staff. If they were compromised, they couldn't always save the day, or the Captain. But how to go about-
“Did you bring the Mehtak ship back?” Rychel asked curiously. She knew there would likely be a team assigned to begin a preliminary investigation of the Mehtak technology, and she wondered if there was any way that she could get assigned to that team.
"Yes. It exploded."
“Exploded?! You’re alright though?” She looked him over quickly, but he seemed to be perfectly fine. “I’m glad nothing bad happened to you,” she added softly.
As long as he wasn't trying to foolishly save someone he had intended to kill, he would always survive. Though why he had tried still eluded him. Rychel and her family seemed to live in a bubble that allowed them to pull through that which would have killed others. He looked over his shoulder at the small Bajoran.
Dakbar wandered back into the living room, then into the kitchen and pulled open the refrigeration unit. As he examined the contents of her fridge, he wondered how any of the engineers had managed not to be injured. Regardless, the contents of the computer was destroyed, which was all that mattered. If the Federation wanted to waste time with a Mehtak ship, maybe it would keep their interests off of other things. His hand wrapped around a small fruit and he sniffed it and wrinkled his nose. "This has gone bad." Tossing it in her direction, he continued his forensic analysis on her food.
She caught the apple that he’d tossed her, and frowned at it. “It’s not that bad, it’s perfect for making bread with,” she said. “Overripe fruit is ideal for baking.” She cocked her head, studying him curiously as he continued his search. It was cute the odd ways that he showed he cared. She bet that he didn’t even realize that was why he did it.
"Apple bread?" He tried to imagine the taste but failed. "I will take your word for that."
A small smirk quirked up the corners of her lips. He’d spent four years at the Academy, but she wondered how much human food he’d actually consumed in that time. Knowing Dakbar, he found something that was palatable and dismissed all other human cuisine. Perhaps one day he’d stop being so stubborn. Rychel had a sneaking suspicion she’d never see that day, though.
Reaching deep into the back of the fridge, he extracted a bottle of white liquid. Uncapping it, he sniffed it and recoiled, then handed it to her. "And what would you be making from this?" His tone was accusatory, but tempered with the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. He looked down at her and remembered the moment when she had emerged from behind that boulder, weapon in hand. He took a step forward, wanting her, but stopped and, instead, jiggled the bottle in front of her.
She giggled, “That’s milk. Surely you’ve heard of it? Goes great with cookies, used in the creation of most baked goods.”
"I've heard of milk," he said defensively. "We have mammals on Cardassia."
Rychel wrestled the bottle from Dakbar’s hand, placing it back into the refrigerator. She closed the device, looking up with him. “My food is ok. I promise. I check it regularly. Every since...”
The intruder. He cursed silently. It was not something he had wanted to bring up again.
Stepping forward, she looked up at him, her head cocked curiously to one side. “So what happened today? Before you rescued me that is.”
Sabotaged a Mehtak ship. "Not much. The usual."
Quickly, she followed up her original query. “How many Mehtak did you kill? I think I got nine today. I’m not sure. Maybe seven. Two of the ones that the explosion hit were kind of hard to tell.” She beamed up at him proudly.
Her enthusiasm caused him to laugh. "Not very many. Lieutenant Burnham was very productive before I had the chance."
“I sure showed them,” Rychel added gleefully. She wasn't the sort to worry over what was right or wrong. The Mehtak had tried to kill her, and she had prevailed. That was all that mattered in her book. Success of the fittest.
"Yes," he said, stepping even closer. His hand trailed up her arm to her neck. "Yes, you did."
Fire shot through her body, and she remembered just how she’d felt as he’d tended to her aboard the Mehtak vessel. There was always something that got in their way when they were together; whether it be duty, or Dakbar’s moods, or just simple inconveniences.
Tipping her chin upward with the touch of his finger, he looked down into her eyes. "You should be proud of yourself." Her face flushed slightly, partially out of response to his touch, partially out of pride at having caught his attention. Her instinct was to make some witty comment about how she’d protected herself, but words failed her as she stared up into his eyes. So many times when they were together she felt like his mind was elsewhere. But not today.
A fingertip skimmed across her lower lip. "You should...celebrate."
It was all that she could do to prevent herself from throwing herself at him. “You should join me,” she said softly. She knew better than to push him too far, as that would only lead him to dark places. He had to be in control of the situation. That she understood. That was the key to preventing him from lashing out.
They were both off duty, the ship was heading back to the station, and all reports had been filed. There was nothing stopping them this time, nothing causing them to hesitate. Yet, hesitate he did. His finger stopped caressing her neck and his eyes bored into hers. Why did he care? This small, fragile woman was-
He blinked.
She was not fragile. He had said so himself back in the shuttle. Inside that petite body was the soul of a fighter. She was unlike any woman he had ever met before. While he had once thought Kathryn to be the perfect woman, there was something about her that he could not get past. Whether it was their connection at the Academy, or the fact that she had almost uncovered his secret at one point, he didn't care. They were coworkers now, and...
His hand started moving again along Rychel's neck.
...and Kathryn wasn't Rychel. Tracing a finger along the yellow fabric, he weighed his options, then shook his head sharply once. Do not think. It was difficult for him to let go, to push aside his motives, his examination, his protection of his secrets. Years of training had left its dark mark upon his soul, yet he wanted to just throw it aside, if only for just this moment.
Suddenly, he swept her up into his arms and carried her without a word into her bedroom. As he placed her onto the bed, he could feel the violence pushing at him at the back of his brain. Memories of him tearing into her flooded his mind and he squeezed his eyes shut for a second, regaining control. After he lowered himself to her, his hands shook as he let them explore. They would be gentle on her...
...this time.
The people in Sickbay had been kind enough to replicate a dress for her, since she’d been transported there wearing nothing but her underthings. Said dress was tossed haphazardly aside as soon as she got back to her quarters, and Rychel had gotten into the sonic shower with record timing. She’d lingered there far longer than she normally did, running over the events of the day in her head. She’d never really been in charge of a team before, and she was proud of herself for getting everyone out in more or less good condition. Cole’s wounds would heal up quickly enough, and her own wounds were more annoying than anything else. She knew that Starfleet would be pleased with their results, especially given the fact that they’d captured the Mehtak vessel. That would hopefully aid the fleet as a whole in defeating the Mehtak in the future.
She made a mental note to send a message to Desan. He would be proud of her for taking on her attackers, and fighting them off. She hadn’t been scared in the slightest, and the tips that he’d taught her had helped considerably. She knew that he wouldn’t be thrilled that she ended up in the middle of a firefight, but he would hopefully understand that was a part of serving in Starfleet. There was no such thing as a “safe” job aboard a starship.
Her thoughts drifted to Helik, and she wondered if the Mehtak ship had safely landed yet. She considered contacting him over the comm system, but decided that with everything that was going on that he likely had other things to attend to. She’d heard rumors that they would be taking the Mehtak ship to somewhere that an Engineering team could make a thorough investigation of it, and she personally hoped for a bit of leave time after their month racing around the sector.
Her shower completed, she looked at her reflection in the mirror for a few minutes before deciding to curl her hair. There was no better way to relax after a long Away Team mission than to pamper herself a bit. She straightened up her quarters a bit, tossing a few things into the replicator before heading back into her room. After a bit of consideration, she put on a yellow sundress, grabbed a curling iron, and began to curl her hair.
After filling out his report, Dakbar wandered the halls until his duty shift was officially over. He really wanted to be in on the Mehtak interrogation, but other officers were assigned to the task, much to Dakbar's dismay. Hopefully they wouldn't have much to say. It was unfortunate that the Ferengi had to be extinguished months ago. Doing so to the Mehtak now would be more than a little obvious. After checking on Rychel's status in Sickbay, and finding that she had been already released, he quickly headed to her quarters. He wouldn't put it past her to check out against medical orders and want to recuperate in privacy. Both of them had already spent their fair share in the medical ward.
The doors slid open at Dakbar's command and, as soon as he ascertained that Rychel was out of sight, he scanned the room with a small device to make sure his surveillance equipment was still operational. Sliding it back into his pocket, he picked up a dress from the floor, inhaled the scent that was on it, then tossed it onto the arm of a chair. He heard noises coming from the bathroom and he slowly approached the open door. "Rychel?" It was not his intention to alarm her today.
It wasn’t the first time that Dakbar had entered her quarters without ringing the chime, so Rychel was not surprised to hear his voice. “In here,” she called out, her voice cheerful. It had been a good day, all things considered. Sure, there were some painful parts, but fortunately modern medical science made that all better quite quickly.
Stepping into the doorway, he leaned against the rim of the entrance and looked her over. The majority of her injuries had been healed, though there was still some very slight bruising here and there. He saw the odd piece of equipment in her hand. "What are you doing," he asked, confused.
She grinned at him in the mirror. “Curling my hair,” she said. “I figured it’d be an interesting change of pace.” She sat down the hot iron, toggling it into the off position, before skipping over to Dakbar’s side.
"So that is what this is for..." He reached a hand out and touched it, then raised a ridged brow. Something like that could be used for all sorts of torture.
Rychel nodded. She wondered whether or not Cardassian women had any sorts of hair rituals, but decided that probably wasn’t the best question to ask Dakbar. He was so hesitant to speak to her about his people, or his past. Still, she knew that it could not be easy for him, and she wasn’t about to push him to do something he didn’t feel comfortable with.
“You like?” she asked, spinning around a bit so he could make a thorough inspection. She’d learned better than to ask Dakbar what he thought about something, as his responses were very rarely what she would have predicted.
“I-”
She didn’t know why she tried to ask for compliments. But still, she wasn’t deterred, because of how he’d acted in the Mehtak ship. He thought she was strong. Truly, that was the best compliment that he could have ever given her, and she was still positively glowing from it. She doubted that there was much of anything that would take that bit of job away from her.
“I’m trying not to dwell on the fact that I was transported into Sickbay wearing nothing but my underwear,” she said ruefully. She knew that she was going to have a stern word with whomever had requested the transport about warning people a bit in the future. Hopefully, with everything else that had occurred, there would be more interesting things to gossip about than a mostly-naked engineer.
He put a hand on her shoulder. "Then stop talking about it," he said pragmatically.
She grinned. “Fair enough. Fortunately, I think there was some better fodder for the rumor mill that showed up as I was leaving. The Captain was beamed in with a big hole in his chest. He looked terrible. Fortunately he has Sig. Sig’s a good doctor.”
That was certainly news. The Captain could possibly die? Dakbar tried not to look smug at the thought, though the fact that Sig could save the man did not rest well with the Cardassian. Still, there was little he could do to stop it, at least for now. Maybe he needed to turn his attentions on the medical staff. If they were compromised, they couldn't always save the day, or the Captain. But how to go about-
“Did you bring the Mehtak ship back?” Rychel asked curiously. She knew there would likely be a team assigned to begin a preliminary investigation of the Mehtak technology, and she wondered if there was any way that she could get assigned to that team.
"Yes. It exploded."
“Exploded?! You’re alright though?” She looked him over quickly, but he seemed to be perfectly fine. “I’m glad nothing bad happened to you,” she added softly.
As long as he wasn't trying to foolishly save someone he had intended to kill, he would always survive. Though why he had tried still eluded him. Rychel and her family seemed to live in a bubble that allowed them to pull through that which would have killed others. He looked over his shoulder at the small Bajoran.
Dakbar wandered back into the living room, then into the kitchen and pulled open the refrigeration unit. As he examined the contents of her fridge, he wondered how any of the engineers had managed not to be injured. Regardless, the contents of the computer was destroyed, which was all that mattered. If the Federation wanted to waste time with a Mehtak ship, maybe it would keep their interests off of other things. His hand wrapped around a small fruit and he sniffed it and wrinkled his nose. "This has gone bad." Tossing it in her direction, he continued his forensic analysis on her food.
She caught the apple that he’d tossed her, and frowned at it. “It’s not that bad, it’s perfect for making bread with,” she said. “Overripe fruit is ideal for baking.” She cocked her head, studying him curiously as he continued his search. It was cute the odd ways that he showed he cared. She bet that he didn’t even realize that was why he did it.
"Apple bread?" He tried to imagine the taste but failed. "I will take your word for that."
A small smirk quirked up the corners of her lips. He’d spent four years at the Academy, but she wondered how much human food he’d actually consumed in that time. Knowing Dakbar, he found something that was palatable and dismissed all other human cuisine. Perhaps one day he’d stop being so stubborn. Rychel had a sneaking suspicion she’d never see that day, though.
Reaching deep into the back of the fridge, he extracted a bottle of white liquid. Uncapping it, he sniffed it and recoiled, then handed it to her. "And what would you be making from this?" His tone was accusatory, but tempered with the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. He looked down at her and remembered the moment when she had emerged from behind that boulder, weapon in hand. He took a step forward, wanting her, but stopped and, instead, jiggled the bottle in front of her.
She giggled, “That’s milk. Surely you’ve heard of it? Goes great with cookies, used in the creation of most baked goods.”
"I've heard of milk," he said defensively. "We have mammals on Cardassia."
Rychel wrestled the bottle from Dakbar’s hand, placing it back into the refrigerator. She closed the device, looking up with him. “My food is ok. I promise. I check it regularly. Every since...”
The intruder. He cursed silently. It was not something he had wanted to bring up again.
Stepping forward, she looked up at him, her head cocked curiously to one side. “So what happened today? Before you rescued me that is.”
Sabotaged a Mehtak ship. "Not much. The usual."
Quickly, she followed up her original query. “How many Mehtak did you kill? I think I got nine today. I’m not sure. Maybe seven. Two of the ones that the explosion hit were kind of hard to tell.” She beamed up at him proudly.
Her enthusiasm caused him to laugh. "Not very many. Lieutenant Burnham was very productive before I had the chance."
“I sure showed them,” Rychel added gleefully. She wasn't the sort to worry over what was right or wrong. The Mehtak had tried to kill her, and she had prevailed. That was all that mattered in her book. Success of the fittest.
"Yes," he said, stepping even closer. His hand trailed up her arm to her neck. "Yes, you did."
Fire shot through her body, and she remembered just how she’d felt as he’d tended to her aboard the Mehtak vessel. There was always something that got in their way when they were together; whether it be duty, or Dakbar’s moods, or just simple inconveniences.
Tipping her chin upward with the touch of his finger, he looked down into her eyes. "You should be proud of yourself." Her face flushed slightly, partially out of response to his touch, partially out of pride at having caught his attention. Her instinct was to make some witty comment about how she’d protected herself, but words failed her as she stared up into his eyes. So many times when they were together she felt like his mind was elsewhere. But not today.
A fingertip skimmed across her lower lip. "You should...celebrate."
It was all that she could do to prevent herself from throwing herself at him. “You should join me,” she said softly. She knew better than to push him too far, as that would only lead him to dark places. He had to be in control of the situation. That she understood. That was the key to preventing him from lashing out.
They were both off duty, the ship was heading back to the station, and all reports had been filed. There was nothing stopping them this time, nothing causing them to hesitate. Yet, hesitate he did. His finger stopped caressing her neck and his eyes bored into hers. Why did he care? This small, fragile woman was-
He blinked.
She was not fragile. He had said so himself back in the shuttle. Inside that petite body was the soul of a fighter. She was unlike any woman he had ever met before. While he had once thought Kathryn to be the perfect woman, there was something about her that he could not get past. Whether it was their connection at the Academy, or the fact that she had almost uncovered his secret at one point, he didn't care. They were coworkers now, and...
His hand started moving again along Rychel's neck.
...and Kathryn wasn't Rychel. Tracing a finger along the yellow fabric, he weighed his options, then shook his head sharply once. Do not think. It was difficult for him to let go, to push aside his motives, his examination, his protection of his secrets. Years of training had left its dark mark upon his soul, yet he wanted to just throw it aside, if only for just this moment.
Suddenly, he swept her up into his arms and carried her without a word into her bedroom. As he placed her onto the bed, he could feel the violence pushing at him at the back of his brain. Memories of him tearing into her flooded his mind and he squeezed his eyes shut for a second, regaining control. After he lowered himself to her, his hands shook as he let them explore. They would be gentle on her...
...this time.