(( Captain’s Ready Room – Deck 1, USS Artemis-A ))
Addison sat in her
customary position: tucked behind the heavy mahogany desk that was the focal
point of her office. While a far cry from standard issue, the beautifully
carved reddish-brown desk had been a gift to her from one of her early mentors.
Until assuming her role on the Artemis, the desk sat in storage on Earth
– she never felt worthy of using it as a newly graduated physician and junior
officer, and after the destruction of the Resolution, she was leery of
bringing it aboard the Excalibur.
Time, like the
universe, was finite.
Now that she had
a command of her own, however, there had been a shift in the redheaded commanding
officer… as if the fact that it was her behind in the center chair gave her
more authority; more responsibility; more control.
…More control…
…as if she now
experienced more control as the commanding officer of a starship with a crew of
350 than she had as a surgeon, as a teacher, as a first officer… More control
over the universe and their place in it, as if she could control fate – manage it,
manipulate it, so that the Artemis wouldn’t meet the same end as the Resolution
had.
…as if the
presence of this piece of furniture somehow granted them immunity from
the hostile forces of the galaxy – of which there was an immeasurable amount – and
that time would spare them from the inevitable.
The reality was
anything but.
From behind her
desk, though, Addison sat perched staring out the window. From their position docked
at Deep Space Nine, she could see the station’s command center – a place that
had suffered its trespasses during the Dominion War – and occasionally behind it,
the wonderous sight of the wormhole as a ship made its way through coming from
or heading to the Gamma Quadrant, filling the ready room with a beautiful blueish-white
light.
As she embraced
the beauty of the phenomenon, she also reflected on what those who served here
had endured. The perils of war were not for the faint of heart, and even though
the Dominion War had occurred nearly thirty years before when she was only a
child, it was now very much a shared experience that her crew shared with this
place. While they’d only encountered a brief snapshot of the war, the traumas
that would result would be very real – visceral – regardless of how “real”
their participation in the war was or was not. And those traumas would likely
be enduring.
Trauma had a way
of following a person, making itself known in the least suspecting of moments…
(( Begin Flashback ))
(( Open-Air Courtyard, Betazed Prison Colony World, SD240103.22 ))
Savel’s attempt to get information had resulted in a Betazoid woman scared out of her wits, and a Starfleet team with no more information now than when they started. As they worked to piece together the puzzle based on tiny bits they could glean from their surroundings, a set of jailors made their way into the compound. Unfortunately, they also weren’t in the business of providing answers.
MacKenzie: Where are we? How did we get here?
The lead jailer pulled back his fist and quickly landed a punch to her jaw that sent her to her knees. Her hand cradled her jaw and she spit out blood from where her teeth bit part of her cheek. She looked up to the others.
MacKenzie: Getting information will likely be more difficult than we think…
Gnai: Cap-!
::it stopped itself, recalling Ensign Savel's words earlier, suit speakers
cutting out mid-word::
Savel: They certainly do not seem willing to share what they know.
Salkath: If we comply, we may avoid further unnecessary violence.
(( End Flashback ))
Addison instinctively
reached for her jaw, shifting it back and forth. There had been no permanent
damage done, thankfully, and fortunately for her, it wasn’t the first time she’d
escaped a similar circumstance with fewer physical injuries than she should
have…
(( Begin Flashback ))
((Romulan Basecamp, Shielded Cave, Talsion Forest – SD 239702.19))
MacKenzie lie on the floor of the cave with her back pressed against the wall. Her eyes were still covered and her hands were bound, and out of the corner of her mouth she could feel where the blood had coagulated. Her mind started to race with potential options for escape, but what could she do?
Run for it? Certainly not – she was in no shape.
Fight them? Again, certainly not.
Barter with them? Possibly, but she had nothing they wanted. Immunity, maybe?
Pit them against each other? They’d been arguing since they took her hostage. It was clear that the one didn’t like his partner, which could be used to her advantage.
Before she could devise a plan, footsteps approached. As her captors reached her side, one delivered a kick to her ribcage. MacKenzie sat up quickly and faced them, with her knees in front of her protecting her torso.
MacKenzie: What do you want, qezhtihn?
His voice had an unmistakable taunting tone when she suddenly realized he activated his translator.
V'Tak: There is no need for language like that. We're all very civilized. Here, I've brought you some water - I'm certain you're thirsty. You humans are so fragile.
The Romulan pulled down her blindfold so she could see them, putting their faces to the voices for the first time since she was taken hostage.
MacKenzie: Civilized? You wouldn’t know civilized if it bit you in the ass.
MacKenzie’s mind drifted to the murder case they’d solved on the Veritas only months earlier involving a xenophobic human bent on removing the Romulan settlers from Ketar V. She shook her head and focused on the water packet being held just slightly out of reach.
V'Tak: But first, your name. I know your Starfleet has rules for such things - you are permitted to share your name, rank and ID number. What harm could that do?
MacKenzie: I’m Lieutenant Commander Addison MacKenzie, chief medical officer of the Embassy on Duronis II.
She watched as the Romulan grinned at her. He was clearly hoping for more of a fight, but she couldn’t be less interested at the moment. He handed over the water packet, and MacKenzie quickly consumed its contents, freeing her mouth from the metallic taste of her blood.
V'Tak: See, when you communicate with us, good things happen. When you don't....::He locked eyes with the woman, then directed his gaze towards Sojot's disruptor::...well, I believe you know what happens when you don't.
MacKenzie: ::shaking her head:: So you really are all ruthless swine, aren’t you?
Sojot: Contrary to what propaganda you have been told, we aren't without mercy. Especially to those who demonstrate reason.
V'Tak: Indeed. So tell me, Lieutenant Commander Addison MacKenzie, are you a reasonable person?
MacKenzie: I think you’ll find that I’m an incredibly reasonable person…
V'Tak grinned, but there was no warmth or humor behind his eyes.
V'Tak: Excellent. Now that we've established that we're all reasonable beings, we should discuss our current...::V'Tak opened his arms wide, indicating the cave and forest around them::...situation. It seems your colleagues have already abandoned you, and we've got more than enough resources here to sit comfortably until we're retrieved.
Sojot: We will manage quite well, given our situation, Lt. Commander.
Addison smirked through her bruised jaw and blood-crusted lips.
MacKenzie: So, how do we get out of here?
V’Tak: "We," Lieutenant Commander? What makes you think we'd share the details of our exit strategy with you?
Sojot: And we wouldn't tell you anyway. Why would we come without a plan to leave here?
MacKenzie: Oh, I didn’t expect you to have a plan. I mean, I’m sure your superiors are going to be pretty upset when they find out you couldn’t hit your actual target and got stuck with a lowly doctor. …So, which one of you colossally screwed that one up??
V’tak moved in to kick her again, but she kicked him gently in the shin before he could get a strike in.
MacKenzie: You’d better stop right there. I think we’re all going to need each other if we have any hope of getting out of this cave… And I think you know that.
V’Tak: You worthless susse-thrai, how dare you strike a Romulan officer! Sojot - she is to receive no food or water from now on, is that clear?!
Sojot: No food or water? If she dies, we lose our only way off this world. And I do want to get off this world.
She rolled her eyes again. His attempt to maintain authority was growing quite tiresome.
MacKenzie: We both know that’s not the best idea…
V'Tak: And you - if you want to have any hope of getting out of this cave alive, you would be well served to remember who is in charge here! You are a prisoner, nothing more! In fact, starting now you will have no name. You will be referred to as prisoner, and you are not to speak unless it is to answer our questions - do you understand?
MacKenzie: No – no, I do not understand. I don’t understand why you haven’t accepted the fact that there’s only one way out of this, and it doesn’t end well for you if I’m dead.
Another nerve.
V'Tak could feel his anger crystallizing into something cold and dangerous. As his heartrate slowed, his false smile returned. There's was to be a battle of wills and he would not be defeated and shamed again in this hateful forest.
V'Tak: If you do not quickly make yourself an asset to us, Prisoner, you will die...screaming. Consider that until we speak again. Oh, and let this be a reminder.
Without warning, he pulled his disruptor, adjusted the setting and shot at her leg. It immediately singed the flesh, and she shrieked in pain while retreating away from him. She avoided the temptation to look at the wound, but as the adrenaline began to course through her as she managed to stand on her good leg as she positioned herself to shout at him.
Sojot: V'Tak!!! What are you doing????
MacKenzie: ::sneering:: You actually shot me! What do you think is going to happen to you when my marine friends get here?! You’re going to have a lot more to worry about than a simple doctor when they see the shape I’m in.
Sojot: ::looking at the wound:: Third degree burn to your calf. ::takes a hypo out of a first aid kit::
V'Tak: Do not waste our resources treating the wound. She is a Doctor, perhaps she can find a way to mend it herself.
MacKenzie’s brow narrowed until her eyes were small slits. Had her gaze been capable of shooting daggers, her captors would be dead. Nonetheless, she was now at a significant disadvantage. She pivoted on her good leg to attempt to reason with the other Romulan.
MacKenzie:
::holding her bad leg:: You know I’m right – your trigger-happy friend is going
to get you both killed, especially when the marines get here. It’s in
everyone’s best interest for you to patch me up.
Sojot: And what makes you think we can't handle your 'Marines' ?
MacKenzie:
You’re a reasonable man! Certainly it makes sense to you what I’m saying!
V’Tak: Don't you dare listen to her, you are a Romulan officer and she is the enemy!
MacKenzie shook her head as she cradled her leg.
MacKenzie: ::glaring at Sojot:: Fix. My. Leg.
(( End Flashback ))
She certainly hadn’t joined Starfleet thinking that it would be filled with traumatic events like terrorism and war, but the universe was a traumatic place, and it had a way of inflicting its traumas on Addison MacKenzie. Over time, she’d done the work to heal from her past experiences, and the members of her crew would be required to do the same as a result of their latest run-in with CloQ. Like any good commanding officer, she’d racked up the experience to shepherd them through what would likely be a difficult healing process for some of them, even if she didn’t always talk about the depth of traumas she had endured in service to the Federation…
---
Captain Addison MacKenzie, M.D., Ph.D., FASFS
Commanding Officer
USS Artemis-A
Captains Council Member at Large
V239601AM0