Posted on Fri Aug 23rd, 2019 @ 1:35pm by Lieutenant Aleksander Voroshilov
ON: 5 months, 3 Days before Aleksi is set free
Aleksi brushed his uniform off, something he hadn’t worn in over a year. It was flawless and clean, two gleaming gold pips studding his collar. He rarely enjoyed wearing the wetsuit but this day was different, his team had stopped a genocide and prevented a war. They had earned the right to be proud of their accomplishment. It was the first time he had truly felt like he belonged in that uniform. Looking over at Kotal, his right arm missing but a smile still on his face, he nodded as the doors to the docks opened up.
They had forwarded all the evidence they had come across during their investigation to the proper authorities: Ch'evhiasrahr’s manifesto, the video of the Captain executing the Executive Officer, the crew’s torture of the Klingon crewmen, the ramblings of a madman, all of it. It would be enough to lock up the conspirators for a long time, strip them of their titles and make them pariahs. The only thing that almost sullied the moment was Ch'evhiasrahr’s death, Aleksi would have given anything to watch him squirm as he answered for his crimes.
Taking a deep breath Aleksi stepped onto the gangway, trademark smile on his lips. Looking over his shoulder he watched one of his marines coax Commander Algar Hagen down the walkway, the senior conspirator, hands bound behind him. Striding down towards the dock he could see the sea of yellow shirts, likely ready to board and secure the vessel. He expected he’d be quarantined, at least until he could be questioned. That was okay, the vodka would still be cold and the women still as warm. Feet hitting the deck he popped a smart salute to the Captain standing before him, “Sir, Lieutenant Voroshilov requests permission to board.”
The Captain didn’t utter a word, just motioning to her Chief of Security before walking past the gray shirt. Aleksi was confused at the exchange, it was the stun baton to his right oblique that cleared up the meaning. The pain coursing through him forced him to his knees, breathing hard to try and keep conscious. He couldn’t see what was happening behind him but could hear Kotal bark orders to hold their ground, a scuffle to retrieve their Intelligence Officer.
The fight caught his torturer’s attention, there was a distinct taste of metal in his mouth and his body was shaking. Survival instincts kicked in, eyes actively hunting for a route of escape, a weapon, anything. He lifted his hand to grab for the CSec’s phaser, fully intending to turn it into a grenade and give his boys a chance to get out. Another blow, this time to the small of his back, disabused him of that notion. Struggling to push himself back up, a pool of drool and blood under him, he managed to shout, “Captain Kotal! Hand over your weapons!”
He had to accept defeat, not for his sake but for those of his Marines. The moment he had stood on the bridge, staring that blue skinned monster in the eye, he had been willing to die. The men who followed him to hell and back, they had suffered enough. Defiantly he stood up, hatred in his eyes. Rough hands grabbed his arms, slapping restraints on his wrists as he looked the Lieutenant Commander in the eye, “Lieutenant Aleksander Voroshilov, you’re being arrested for the following charges: Treason, two counts of Murder in the First Degree, Piracy, Unlawful Imprisonment, Assault in the First Degree, Misuse of Government Property and Conduct Unbecoming of an Officer.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Aleksi exploded in pure rage, the security crewman pulling him back. The metal restraints bit hard, cutting into the skin, but the adrenaline pumping through his veins made him numb to it. Over the past year he had been shot at, stabbed, and lied to, but the only thing that ever truly got him riled up was betrayal, “We lay this all out on a silver fucking platter and this is how you treat us?!”
“I told you he was delusional,” Algar rubbed his now free wrists as he came into Aleksi’s view, a shit eating grin on his face, the somber Captain next to him. The Betazed walked up to Aleksi, reading the one thousand and one ways that the intelligence officer wanted to kill him, “I feel the same way about you, scum. I guess it’s a good thing the Federation doesn’t believe in the death penalty.”
“I should have burned the entire fucking ship to the ground,” The situation was slowly starting to dawn on him, the crew loyal the Ch'evhiasrahr must have gotten a message out. Whatever it said had made Aleksi and his team out to be the villains of the story, at least that’s the image they wanted to portray to the public. It had been convincing enough for the Captain to ignore the evidence. He had been watching the Betazoid’s face as he reasoned through the situation, watching Algar slowly shake his head. Someone doesn’t want the truth coming out.
“If you make this more of a struggle we’ll do the same to your team,” Algar was close enough that Aleksi could smell the garlic on his breath. Aleksi’s blood was boiling, had he not been restrained Algar’s throat would be in his hand, watching the life drain out of his eyes, “How do you think Kotal will do? He’s tough, but with only one arm how’d he stand up against a few…opportunistic inmates?”
The threat brought a chill down Aleksi’s spine, clearly he was in deeper than he initially thought. He was to be the lamb at the altar to cover-up the crimes of Captain Ch'evhiasrahr, model officer and Dominion War hero. It appeared his life was worth sacrificing if it meant preserving a dead man’s legacy, white washing the war crimes in progress. This is why I have issues trusting authority. Perhaps he should have sent the document dump to a few news organizations as well. At least Mira has it.
Algar laughed, following the Captain to his ready room, presumably, where he’d spin more tales and dig Aleksi’s grave deeper while he got off scot-free. Aleksi had to accept that he’d lost this round, there wasn’t much else he could do surrounded by people that clearly despised him. When he did get out, because he would escape one way or another, he’d figure out what the hell he’d gotten himself in the middle of and tear it apart piece by piece, no matter the cost. They'd learn soon enough that he was an agent of chaos.