Lies

Posted on Mon Oct 26th, 2009 @ 4:26am by

836 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: Shoreleave - Welcoming Old Friends and New
Location: Brig, USS Archimedes
Timeline: Current

"Let's talk."

Two simple words, no more inherently dangerous than any other words in the language that was Federation Standard. But as they came out of the disfigured mouth of Commander Rowena Arkham, something of a chill ran down the spine of Alexandra Harwood. Something in those dark tones --tones that so matched the black uniform that the Commander had had yet to remove-- hinted at deep meaning -- hinted at a secret both years in their past, but so very palpable in Arkham's present.

"Imzadi, you can't--" Harwood began.

"I can," Arkham said coldly, taking a seat outside the cell. She tried valiantly to make this as comfortable as possible for the other woman - who, despite all appearances, she knew was deeply unnerved at the prospect of what might happen next. "And I will. We're going to have this conversation one way or another. And trust me, this way is preferable. For all of us."

At those words, Harwood looked down to see a small black physician's bag at Arkham's side, and within that moment, she knew Arkham was serious. Twenty years in the Fleet, ten in the Agency, led to one always being able to find creative methods of getting information. In her years of working with Arkham, she had only seen the older officer go for her bag twice. And the results had been terrible. She said quietly, "You wouldn't."

"Forgive me, Miss Harwood, for what obviously seems like a veiled threat," Arkham said congenially, her features contorting into a smirk, "But I do believe that all bets were off some years ago. You haven't played fair. Why should I?"

"You're better than that," Harwood said quietly, hoping to somehow plead to anything that might still be just in Arkham's mind. "It isn't just, and you know it. You know that I have a right to stand trial, and that it's your duty as a Line officer of the United Federation of Planets to see to it that justic is served. Megan always said that you were--"

"You have no right to say her name," Arkham spat, her eye cold. "You murdered her in cold blood--"

"Imzadi," Harwood said quietly. "It will never work out between the two of you."

"You had no right to decide that!" Arkham barked, her voice cracking as she thought of everything that she had lost, her mind reeling back through the years to the Sparta, when her mind and face were still whole and her lover was still with her, when the future still looked bright and Arkham was chomping at the bit for everything that was bound to come.

"Imzadi, you were made for war," the blonde said, leaning forward. "You know that. Grim-visaged Rowena Arkham, capering nimbly in a lady's chamber? No, no, imzadi. You weren't bred for such sportive tricks as those. And now--"

"I could have...we could have been happy," Arkham said, trying to keep her temper in check and her voice level. "Maybe i could have been all that, if i'd been given even the slightest opportunity to try. If we'd been allowed to make a life together."

"You would throw away your career for her?" Harwood scoffed.

"In a heartbeat," Arkham said, her voice barely above a whisper. This change in tone perplexed the Captain. "I would have given up everything for that woman. It disturbs me that you can't even begin...to understand that."

"Why?" Harwood snapped. "Why does it matter?"

"Your young medic feels the same about you, you know. She'd follow you to the ends of the Universe. Loves you, even," Arkham said coolly. "Not only for everything you are, but everything you could be. It's sad, really, that you can't even begin to comprehend or return the feeling."

"This is why I did what I did," Harwood growled. "You were an asset to the Organization. You could be running that place by now, but you threw it all away for that woman! We couldn't lose you! Not then. Not with the war--"

"You were given orders, I assume?" Arkham asked, raising an eyebrow. "A device like that, you would have needed technical help. Resources. things that wouldn't have been available to you on the Sparta as a lowly Provisional Ensign."

Harwood looked away, almost ashamed. "I was."

Arkham nodded at this, sighing for a moment. Looking away herself, "I'm sorry...I never understood you. I shouldn't have...been so hard on you. This is probably all my fault, from beginning to end."

Turning away, as if to leave, Arkham paused for only a moment. "I'm sorry. I'll...put in a decent word at your trial, Alexandra. In exchange for one thing -- can you tell me where they buried her? I...think you at least owe me that."

A smirk crossed Alexandra Harwood's features. "Buried, imzadi? Megan Ellard wasn't buried."

Arkham snarled. "A device like that, she wasn't incinerated--"

Harwood's smirk deepened. "Oh no, imzadi. But it's awfully difficult to bury someone who isn't dead."

 

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