USS
Galaxy:The Next Generation Sim Log Stardate: 50208.23 - 50208.30 |
Brevet Lieutenant Donovan Black was seated and ready to begin the briefing when the last of his senior sub-department leaders entered the room. He'd had to send her back out to restart the level five diagnostic on the intelligence database core, after an overzealous operations officer terminated it. After a tersely worded message to the crewman in question, informing him that the Chief Intelligence Officer had ordered the diagnostic, that mess had been cleared up.
Lieutenant Black looked over his assembled officers. On his right, Lieutenant Daniel "Dirty Dan" Livadhi. The son of Admiral Lawrence Livadhi, Head of Starfleet Deep Space Repair, he had legacied into the fleet on mediocre high school scores and his father's reputation. He'd done a lot since then to change peoples opinions of him, and was known as an over-achiever whose hard work was easily appreciated. He was also known for doing some of the necessary dirty work that SFI sometimes had to do. Black had raised an eyebrow at that, but had decided that "Dan" was worth the risk.
On his left was Sendi, his wife. A recent transfer into SFI, Sendi's science and tactical background made her uniquely suited to her role as the senior Intelligence Analyst. The highly organized mind was there, as was the ability to pick out what was important and make connections, just like in tactical. With a little help from the more experienced NCOs in her sub-department, she would do just as well as any other.
At the far end of the table was Lieutenant JG Chase Brittni Remur. The Senior Intelligence Computer Specialist had a background in both Ops and Engineering, and though she was fairly young and fresh from her first posting, she was efficient and organized, if a little meek. Just the sort of person he needed running his computers and breaking into the ones he needed broken into. Donovan had made no effort to conceal the fact that SFI had to do things he would otherwise consider unethical. It came with the job, and Chase Remur knew her job.
Between her and Dan Livadhi was Lieutenant JG Golnar ch'Zhartin. The Andorian was the Senior Intelligence Operative. He was almost as old as Donovan, and completely undecorated. He had served with intelligence for all of his career, doing things that the Federation and many others would consider flirting with the policies of Section 31. But again, he did the job well, and best of all, he was a quick thinker. And that was again why Donovan was giving him a chance. The man's politics were also roughly opposed to Donovan's, but everyone was entitled to their ideals, so Donovan left it alone.
"All right, ladies and gentlemen, I want to thank everyone
for responding to your BuPers summons so promptly, since it no doubt saved us
all the time and energy that our good captain would have expended hollering
at us for our tardiness. Now then, I am also happy to report that our people
were sufficiently busy that they weren't in the Stardock Bar when the bar brawl
broke out." Donovan said, "As to the current situation regarding Doctor
Quick and the computer personality crisis, that's a security matter, not an
intelligence matter. We have duties that need tending to, by the orders of Captain
Bhrode."
"And those would be?" Chase asked, almost before he had said it. Donovan made a mental note that she had been the inquisitive one. That was good, and somewhat out of character for her. Livadhi appeared to be considering something, but then, he already knew the orders, as did Sendi. Golnar ch'Zhartin said nothing, but seemed to be waiting, eyeing Black's PADD.
"We're to present reports on each of the major political powers in the Alpha Quadrant, and part of the Beta Quadrant. That includes the Klingons, Romulans, Lyrans, Gorn, Tholian, Cardassian, Breen, Orion, and anyone else you can think of." Donovan said.
"And what do you need us to do?" asked the Andorian.
"Your group, I need to see their intrusion scores go up. They are not in acceptable ranges for my department. I also want you to begin specializing the ensigns as if they were a marine intrusion team. If you have to get with Sergeant Goldstein or Major Log on that, I want you to do it. Combat, Computer/R&D, Science, Recon, Sniper, Explosives. I can function as a sniper if it comes right down to it, but I want all the ensigns trained, that included the ones in analysis and computers. We have to be versatile, since we're a small department." Black replied.
"I'll get right on it, sir." Golnar said, expressionless.
"Lieutenant Remur, I need you to liaise with Lieutenant sh'Soleri. Her group'll be responsible for gathering most of the data involved in our reports and I want you to make sure that everything is working correctly. I know that isn't what being a computer specialist in intelligence is supposedly all about, but I'm sure you can understand." Donovan addressed the youthful jig at the far end of the table.
"On the contrary, Lieutenant. I'm more than happy to do more peaceful work. To tell you the truth, all this cloak and dagger stuff bothers me, sir." Chase said with a shrug and a smile. Donovan would have mentioned his agreement and moved on, but Sendi heard some muttering from ch'Zhartin about her "weak attitude", and mentioned it to Donovan in a hushed tone.
"Which brings me to my next point, Mr. ch'Zhartin. The nature of our work here in intelligence. Mr. ch'Zhartin, would you care to repeat your comment so that Lieutenant Remur can hear it. Just because you and Sendi have enhanced hearing doesn't mean that everyone else does." Donovan said, clearly irritated.
Golnar glared at him, his antennae twitching to display his own irritance. "No, sir." he said tersely. Donovan suspected he'd just made an enemy, and sighed inwardly. He'd make it work.
"Very well, I'll assume it wasn't important." he said, moving on in an effort to smooth things over and still display his dominance in the department. He remembered how ill tempered Andorians could be, from his dealings with Supra th'Soleri, a member of Sendi's clan who had served in tactical on the original USS Galaxy. "I don't approve of the methods that SFI has used in the past. You were all briefed on the nature of the rogue organization Section 31, and I don't need to remind you that that information is classified. In the past, we've acted a little too much like them. We're the good guys, and we have to remember that. I will not allow data gathering on people on this ship that are federation citizens. We are not the secret police."
"No cloak and dagger, no skullduggery. None of that. Do you understand, ch'Zhartin." Livadhi finally spoke up. He looked just as irritated, and the ACIO and the Andorian exchanged glares.
"Yes sir." he said.
"I understand too, sir." Chase said, trying to cover for Golnar. This caused her to receive a glare. There was simply no calming most Andorians once their blood was up.
"Good, Lieutenant. I want all of you to understand that. And one more thing. Golnar, you should appreciate this. I want all intelligence personnel, that includes us, doing PT runs each morning. Those of us who work on Beta shift can do them on Gamma. Understood?" Black said.
"Yes sir." Golnar said a little too quickly.
Chase nodded.
"'Course." Dan Livadhi replied, but then, he'd known about it for several days.
"Yes, sir." Sendi replied.
"All right, good. You're all dismissed, except you Chase. The rest of you, get to work. We have a lot to accomplish soon." Black said. Golnar stalked out, no doubt to give some speech to his men.
"Later, sir." Livadhi said, strolling out, ever the epitome of his easy going, laid back, attitude.
"Donovan." Sendi said, and left.
"Sir?" Chase asked. She looked concerned.
"No, no. You're not in trouble. I just want to give some advice. Ignore Golnar. He's Andorian, and once his blood is up, he won't let go. I know, Sendi isn't like that, but she's a very special case. So special that I married her. You've done well, and Dan and I agree that you're on the right track for promotion, just keep up the good work." Donovan said, relaxing in his chair.
"Thank you, sir. Am I dismissed, sir?" she asked, shifting uneasily.
Donovan laughed, "Yeah, get out of here." He chuckled as she wandered back to work. This was going to be one hell of a ride.
[OOC: Occurs during "Pretty Princesses"
and everything else that's going onduring the whole post-launch Dr. Quick security
alert debacle.]
Jeremy Savoie had only one thing on his mind as pandemonium eruptedthroughout the ship: ~I hope Bhrode finds that screwball Quick and blows him out a fuckin' torpedo tube.~
It was annoying enough making sure that the newly refurbished Galaxy got out of spacedock without a scratch while under the scrutiny of thousands of excited observers. Having to listen to the main computer spit endless security alerts while Bhrode tried to "out loud" it was ridiculous.
"That's enough, Mister Reece. Kill the Security Sensor net. Again. Computer, what is going on?!? I am on the main bridge and I do not see Doctor Quick anywhere."
=^= ILLOGICAL QUERY. DOCTOR QUICK STATES THAT HE DOES NOT SEE DOCTOR QUICK ON THE BRIDGE. =^=
"What the hell!?! Computer, identify me."
=^= DOCTOR JEBEDIAH QUICK IS QUERENT. =^=
Around the bridge, all eyes, civilian and crew, were on Bhrode as Reece tried in vain to suppress the computer's blathering alerts. One by one, Bhrode silently commanded each of his officers to attempt to get the computer to properly identify them. The old man's glare landed on Jeremy last, at which point the helmsman wanted just to tell him to give it up, that this refried hunk of duranium was a lemon and needed to be hauled right back into spacedock.
Instead, he simply rolled his eyes and cynically muttered "Computer, identify me" just like everyone else.
=^= DOCTOR JEBEDIAH QUICK IS THE QUERENT =^= came the response, just like everyone else.
"What a surprise," Jeremy mumbled under his breath sarcastically, as he returned his attention to the helm.
The only good thing that came of the whole ordeal was Bhrode clearing those damn reporters off the bridge. The order to set course for McKinley station to dump the whole worthless lot of them was the best thing Jeremy had heard in days. It was an order he carried out almost gleefully.
The reporters were gone, the alerts were silenced, and Bhrode had left the bridge for the moment, taking Hawksley with him. For awhile, peace reigned once again.
A peace that was abruptly shattered all too soon.
"Legate!" Bhrode thundered as he returned to the bridge. "You are responsible for our guests' comfort. *DO* something about it!"
~Oh Jesus,~ Jeremy sighed in silence.
"Corgan! You are to take the Security Sensors off line. Your people will verify and monitor EACH and every weapon aboard during the sensor blackout. You will also conduct foot patrols to replace computer monitoring of all vital areas."
"Engineering! If this computer does not cease identifying everyone as some damn dirty Hippie, reprogram it with a fire axe and a Phaser-three on highest setting!"
~Hey, now you're talking, Cap'" Jeremy agreed in his mind. ~Let's just start disassembling this piece of shit re-design one component at a time. We can even draw-and-quarter Quick while we're at it.~
The next words Bhrode barked were the ones that really piqued Jeremy's interest, however.
"Number One, you have the command of the Sciences Department as well. Number Two, Conn," he addressed to that board-up-her-ass commander and to Lysander. "I will decide who is to remain as Executive Officer when we unload the Pretty Princess at the Federation trading station on Rigel Seven. Carry on."
A wicked grin crossed the helmsman's face. Though his back was to them, Jeremy knew those two prima donnas were ready to scratch each other's eyes out and Bhrode was all too happy to sharpen their claws for them.
~Dysfunctional commanders on a dysfunctional ship designed by a dysfunctional scientist,~ Jeremy mused in his mind, barely able to keep from laughing. ~They all deserve each other.~
Rigidity was the key. Inflexibility. Strength in ambition, striking fear in all who oppose you. Take what you need to accomplish your objectives, but do not let the enemy know you own them. Let them believe they have gained the advantage, and victory is yours. The arrogant shall fall.
Thus shall the Kelvan Empire rise in harmony, combining their might across the stars, and sweep their grace across the Federation and all their allies. Only then will the superior culture of the greatest peoples in all the Quadrants achieve their ultimate objective, and take under their wings the children who outnumber them.
In being given free reign with access to the Border Guards, Secret Service, and Intelligence communities, the first major phase of the eventual evolutionary step of the carrying the Federation towards utopian standards had been taken. Domination was within reach.
Kylar Curran had been busily eying the personnel records of the Intelligence and Security rosters on board the Galaxy. He would need to utilize the Department Chiefs here in order to establish ground rules and balance, further insinuating himself into the functions of the vessel and gaining control over key areas.
Donovan Cassius Black was the lowest ranking Officer on the Command crew. No personnel files had been transmitted as yet - shoddy work from the Personnel Department - but he would keep an eye on him closely. He may be attainable as a suggestible ally, but seeing as he is a Chief at such a low rank was something to keep wary about. Possible high intelligence factor.
He scratched his chin.
James Lionel Corgan. Strange sort. Was Acting Operations Chief on the prior incarnation of the Galaxy, and before that, a Security Officer. Now heading up the Security Department. Sounded like he was an indecisive sort, and that could get you killed. Who was the slackminded fool who made him Chief of Security on the flagship of Starfleet? He would have to get intelligence in on the reasons behind that inept decision. The big Indian who was Assistant Chief had to be a better choice. Marines on board were tougher and more resolute than this one.
Continuing on through the file, he accessed the psychological profile, and skimmed through it. Such dribble these humans endure. Feelings, feelings, feelings! Undisciplined minds like little children. These Federation types needed babysitters, assuming that was the reason he was assigned here. Babysitter to small children who don't know their place.
This security chief even wore lenswear! Medical strides have absolved this weakness, and he continues to utilize the ancient failings. Too sentimental. It almost made him physically ill.
[All Command Personnel to the Bridge. Pre-Launch countdown in progress.]
He reached over, entered his personal command codes, and powered down the console.
"Computer. Cease music." The celtic ballad was ended abruptly amidst a denouement, and the Legate left for the horrible experience of publicity.
***
Finally done with the dog and pony show on the Bridge, Kylar couldn't have been any more content to dispose of the annoying reporters. They'd constantly badgered him with their inane questioning on how he FELT about being the first Liaison Officer assigned to a Starship of such grand schemes. The incessant flashing of bulbs and photographs only insisted on urging his anger forth.
Instead, he simply excused himself, shoved his way through the crowd, hands upraised and uncaring who he pummelled through. He was beginning to perspire and this was unacceptable. He needed a shower. He could not stand these leeches touching him. They were a plague on him. The haughty scent of humanity spread on him and he felt inundated with pure dirt.
He arrived at his quarters, stripped off his uniform, careful to remove his signifying markings of the Federation Liaison Corps, and threw them in the recycler to be incinerated. Climbing in his sonic shower, he scrubbed hard, shredding off the top layer of skin. He wished he could get out of this shell entirely and back to his own form, but that was long gone. He'd spent too much time as a human, which had now become permanent.
He trimmed his beard, careful to keep the whiskers aligned perfectly. Trodding over the carpet, his pale feet skimming lightly without sound, he replicated a new uniform, and pressed it.
This process spanned an hour, but for that, he felt whole again. If only he could wear a personal stasis field, the germs of the lower species would not affect him.
He exited, and made his way to the Princess' quarters through the throng of personnel who were in between shifts.
***
Commander Karyn Dallas just wanted to get back to her quarters. After a long shift, she needed to be somewhere quiet. Her adrenaline spent from on the anxiety surrounding the launch, Karyn was beat. The reporters had automatically put her on edge, and while most of their questions were fluff, there had been a few that probed into the Price disaster on lanjep.
She tried to be as diplomatic as possible, keenly aware that
Lee was present on stardock for the launch, but she wondered how successful
she'd been. When the questions were that pointed on what was supposed to be
a happy occasion, it was hard to stay in good humor. The Starfleet Command community
was certainly not coming around after a year and it appeared the civilian reporters
were going to be like dogs with bones themselves. And
naturally, the princess had to be here as well. The reporters had seized on
that like white on rice!
Karyn was just grateful she hadn't been cajoled into a publicity holo with the woman. She had nothing against the princess, but reuniting with that part of her past so soon after boarding the Galaxy was not something she was anxious to do.
It was a desire cruel fate had seen fit to ignore. Coming toward her was the permanent representative of the Galaxy's Diplomatic Corps, Legate Kyler Curran, the ship's Kelvan Federation Liason. She hadn't met the Legate personally, but she had heard he was a calculating sort, and not someone who epitomized diplomacy. What should she say to him? Would he say anything to her?
Finally she settled on the non-aggressive. "Hello, Legate."
Curran stopped and crinkled his brow as he approached the female who'd spoken to him. For a singular expanse in memory, he could not place her.
"Do I know you?" He stared down at this Terran who
navigated around in a hoverchair. Curious how he kept encountering these races
who were incomplete. Invalids on his planet would be led out to the ovelands
and left to die. They were useless to the cause. They could not be relied upon
to carry their onus in the institution of war and autocracy. The mind was only
strengthened by confidence in the body. Less of one had an impending
effect on the other.
Needless to say, this was not quite the reaction Karyn was expecting, and while thirty seconds earlier she would have prayed for a response like this, she found herself slightly put off by it for no real reason she could place. She smiled, despite how uncomfortable it made her with this man. "I'm Commander Karyn Dallas, the Chief Counselor and Second Officer aboard." She supposed she should have been happy that she blended in with the crew, most of the time she felt she stuck out like a sore thumb.
"Ahh... Commander Dallas. Now I have placed you. The fiasco at lanjep. You assumed fault for the strategic withdrawal of at least a dozen worlds. Not that I can say I can blame them."
Despite her earlier misgivings and having steeled herself for
the brutal honesty she knew was going to come from this man, his words still
hit her like being doused with a pitcher of ice water. Karyn was rarely ever
at a loss for words, but her own sense of anger and confusion prevented her
from speaking fast enough. She had expected this hadn't she? So why was she
so stunned? Finally finding her voice of steel, she began to reply.
"Legate,--"
"Unfortunately, Counselor, I am unable to continue this interesting dialogue on the fascinating diorama of a single person's mission to destroy the very foundation of the Federation. I have a meeting with visiting delegates." As he cast his glance past Karyn, his body followed through before she could reply.
In the blink of an eye all sense of reason was lost. Instinctively, Karyn started to follow him even before she knew how to respond. Her anger and indignation were fueling her in that moment and if it were possible to harness that energy, she felt sure she would have run circles around him by now.
He stopped and cast a secretly mischievous glance over his left shoulder. "Perhaps you would like to join me? I'm sure Princess DeV'oraH would like to share her experiences in preventing the breakdown of talks between countless worlds. I hear it was very dramatic."
"Yes," replied Karyn forcefully, "I'd be interested in hearing how another proponent of peace triumphed over adversity." She was matching him stride for stride and was tempted to knock him into the walls "accidentally" a few times. It wouldn't improve the situation by any means, but it would sure as hell feel good. In the end she decided against such a cheap shot. It wasn't worthy of her.
The unlikely pair carried themselves through the grim corridors of the newly refitted starship. Dr. Quick's distorted sense of taste had been gouged out on the upper decks. Engineers and Security officers rushed through them, separating the two as they moved into a turbolift.
"Dr. Quick has been tracked to Deck 3, Section 8!" The security officer swung his tricorder in the direction the Legate and Counselor had just departed from. "Now Section 14! How is he moving so quickly?" The group of officers split into pairs as they darted down opposing corridors.
"Counselor, you made a decision you thought was in the best interests of diplomacy, but next time, leave it to the diplomats. You selected poorly. Saving the life of one man against the lives of millions is a human failing.
It was a strategic disaster on your part. Maybe it would've been in the Federation's best interest to let Captain Price die, for he should never have put the responsibility of such magnitude in the hands of not only a woman, but in a Counselor as well!" The doors parted and the pair exited.
Karyn remained absolutely impassive. To react now would only play into his hand, and she sure as hell wasn't going to do that. Inwardly she shook her head. She never believed she had acted in the best interests of diplomacy, only in the best interests of her captain. She had not asked to be a diplomat and she was not sorry for her actions. Lee had forgiven her, completely empathisizing with the awkward position she had been placed in, and like many others in Starfleet Command, had appreciated the true intent of her actions. He still respected her, and to Karyn, that was all that mattered.
Let this man spew his sexist ideas! Sooner or later he was going to piss the wrong Admiral or alien off, and she would be there to watch the fallout with bells on. She welcomed the day when what was going around come back to bite him in his fat diplomatic ass.
"Who counsels the Counselor, Commander? I, for one, have an ominous dread in you as a command level officer on this ship." He stopped in front of the two burly Klingon guards who'd held up Brhode and his XO's earlier. He turned to and leaned into her hoverchair, just out of earshot of the Klingon Honor Guards.
"I will be keeping a close eye on you, Counselor. Of the command level crew on this ship, I have the greatest fear that you most of all, will suffer the emotional failings of your species and get someone killed. Be wary, for I *will* have you removed if the cause arises."
He rose and stood back before Karyn could respond.
Again Karyn smirked. Every time he delivered a cutting remark, he looked away or pretended nothing had been said. A true adversary would have the guts to face the return argument, but as it was this "diplomat" was just blowing off steam. People like that only gained power over others if the people they attempted to dominate gave them that power to rule through fear. Let him whine about her compassionate nature. It was what was going to get people to get up out of bed every morning despite being faced with people like he and Brohde. Curran operated under the assumption that she cared what he thought. It was a flaw she knew would one day prove fatal to his well-being some day.
"I am the Legate Kylar Curran, the Galaxy's Chief Liaison Officer, and am here at the behest of the Princess. Stand aside." He handed a Padd to the guard, who scanned it with daunting precision.
"Wait here!" He nodded curtly to his companion and ducked inside the Executive Lounge. Muffled yells followed shortly thereafter, pursued by the ensuing shatter of breakables against a wall inside. The lone Guard outside snorted derisively as he anticipated the meeting between the Princess and this lithe, frail-looking form in front of him accompanied by the hoverchair-bound officer.
The door opened to the shape and form of the original Guard.
"You may enter. The Princess awaits you." Kylar and Karyn passed through, and under the leering grin of the huge Klingon. The door silently closed behind them, in direct contrast to the events that followed..
Adrian exited the turbolift and headed for the Counseling Department. Hestill
couldn't get over Maxim's actions earlier. The kid almost didn't want to let
go when his father left, but perked up when he promised to be back. He stopped
as a flew passed him, heading for the turbolift. Adrian turnedaround to see
the face, as the figure lokoed back at him before darting in.Adrian rushed towards
it but was to late. He tapped his commbadge.
/\= "An'quinsos to Security, be advised that Doctor Quick was on Deck 14, andhas just entered Turbolift 1. An'quinsos out." =/\= He sighed and proceeded into Counseling.
Karyn was startled when the doors opened. "Adrian, what are you doing here? Aren't you off-duty now?"
"I just felt like coming in early."
Karyn laughed. "This place is sucking us in already, eh? Almost like old times." She smiled. She had really missed him and was happy to see a familiar face, but the last time he'd seen her was a year ago and she had not been in the best frame of mind then.
He smiled brightly. "Ah yes, this place is like a Black Hole designed specificallyfor Counsellors. All others may come and go, but we Counselors are forever wallowing within its black endless depths, never to escape..." He replied with a deadly serious ominous drawl, then chuckled. "So, how are you? It's been a while... well, from the normal standpoint that is," He chuckled. "I still have to introduce you to my son Maxim!"
"Yes, I know. Listen Adrian, I'm sorry for last year. I know I just dropped out of things, including the birth of your son. I'm sorry."
Rather than a look of melancholy, Adrian beamed her a warm, gentle. "There are no apologies between friends Karyn, remember that! It was hard on us all, but we all are getting through it." He embraced her with a warm hug."As I told you a year ago, you will always be welcomed wherever the family of Listeners make thier home, never forget that!"
Karyn actually felt herself relax in his embrace. She was humbled by his gentleness and warmed at the same time. She felt at home here for the first time. "Thank you, Adrian, so much. I hope to return the favor, though nothing can possibly make up for it, I know."
"Well, you can start by coming to see us, now that we're all on the Galaxy!" He chuckled. "However, I have to warn you, that little boy of mine is a handful and a half," his look switched to one of a proud father. "And then he'll turn around and surprise you all at once. Zerhi says he gets it from me, but I don't know where she gets that idea!"
Karyn laughed, and felt a twinge of longing for a family of
her own. "Yeah, I wonder where. I'd like to see you and the family, but
I'll be working for a while. I wanted to have a staff meeting now, but Brohde's
insisting that a counselor be present on the bridge for every shift until we
arrive even though we're not on alert. It could be because we have diplomats
aboard. Anyway, the meeting will have to be Delta shift this time while the
juniors
are covering the front desk. I promise to make it short though."
"Ah, so we have him to thank," He shrugged. "Still I can see where he's coming from." He glanced up at her in thought. "I've yet to meet the other Counselor, what's her name?"
"The other senior counselors are Edith Monaghan and Emma Marshall. You remember Em from the old girl, right? And Edith's new to me, I just met her long enough for her to report in. My...er, accident got in the way of my preparations prior to launch."
His brows went up as a look of concern filled his face. "Accident? Are you alright?"
Karyn actually blushed with embarrassment before tossing a look to the stairs behind her. "I thought I would be the laughing stock of the ship by now... I discovered the stairs by falling off them. I'm fine now, broke both my ankles, but they're healing now, just a little stiff. I've been assured something will be arranged, but until then, I'm stuck using the reception desk up here. Thank the gods there's a bathroom up here." She chuckled, trying to hide her embarrassment.
He didn't look convinced. "Were you hurt?"
"I broke both my ankles, but don't worry about it, Brooke treated me. They're a little stiff, but that'll pass. Listen, I need to go prepare some things for the meeting, can we talk later?" It was a bit of a lie. She did have work to do, but the meeting was hours away. The truth was the day's events were catching up with her. Brohde, Curran, the steps. She just felt weird.
"Sure, Karyn." The El-Aurian replied, knowing there was more but recognizing when to push and when not to. "Comm me or yell if you need anything."
"Thanks, Quinn." She smiled.
She watched him descend the stairs and head toward his office, making sure not to meet his gaze when he looked back.
The twin Duranium doors slid shut with a soft hiss leaving the solitary figure of Commander Rebecca von Ernst standing quite alone in the dark of her private cabin.
Much larger than her original cramped Ensign's quarters on Deck 5, or even the shared cubby-hole during her initial days aboard the USS Victory, these vast spaces provided no real solace to the troubled young girl.
Rebecca stood quite still just inside of the doorway, not bothering to flip on the room's lights, preferring instead the shadowy, half-light created by the faint starlight filtering in from outside.
It was several long moments before the unmoving girl seemed to snap out of her unfocussed trance and stepped out of the doorway.
Allowing the small collection of PADDS in her hands to slip out onto a nearby chair, the slim woman of 27 years crossed the darkened room, navigating by memory alone, and slid into a plush low sofa set beneath a trio of transparent aluminum windows. With a tired grunt of effort she peeled open the front of her black uniform jacket, and draped it over the armrest. It was more comfortable to sit in her undershirt alone.
Once upon a time she had tended to close the large ovoid portholes out of sheer modesty while changing clothes, but now after five years of fleet service, and a meteoric rise through the ranks to her current pinacle of success, she found she no longer cared.
Not caring seemed to be a reoccurring theme with her as of late.
Settling herself with a sigh, Rebecca attempted to let the weights of today's activities slide off her frail shoulders.
There was a lot to digest.
Most critical of all was of course the massive malfunction of the Galaxy's internal sensor nets, having been unwittingly sabotaged by their very creator, one Dr. Jebediah Quick. Having somehow been imbued with Quick's own twisted sense of New Age philosophies and dogma, the delicate equipment had taken to mis-identifying every living soul aboard the Galaxy as none other than the erstwhile Dr. himself.
At first merely annoying, it soon became apparent that there was more serious repercussions to this damage than first met the eye.
First of all, the entire Command staff found themselves locked out of their private Access codes resulting in several tense moments where literally NOBODY was running the starship. These effects snowballed in all directions affecting all departments and making some of even the most mundane tasks aboard the Galaxy extraordinarily difficult.
For instance, an early attempt to circumvent the mislabeling problem by using the ship's transporters, ultimately proved a very dangerous idea.
Rebecca scowled at the memory of how the Transporter Chief explained it to her.
""Your pardon ma'am but we're gonna need to take ALL the transporters offline for the safety of the passengers." He had said.
"Why?" Rebecca asked. "The Transporters are not affected by this so called 'Quick-virus'
"No ma'am," he explained, "But the Biofilters that utilize the sensor nets are. Every time someone beams up or down, their pattern is run through the filter and compared to the pattern on file for possible contagion. Anything that does not match the expected configuration is eliminated in the rematerialization stage thus decontaminating the passenger."
"Your point" Rebecca had asked impatiently. Biofilters had been in use by Starfleet for more than 100 years since the old days of De-Con Chambers, and slimey antibiotic goop.
"Well, with ever with the computer thinking everyone is Dr. Quick, the biofilters keep accessing his file as a pattern template."
"Oh noodles….." the redhead breathed in spite of herself finally putting two and two together. (She was good at math after all)
"Yes ma'am. . . .No offense ma'am but if you went through and didn't happen to be a tall skinny white guy with bad hair, you would quickly find all the 'aberrant' readings eliminated from the rematerialization…….In essence 'erasing' about 98% of your mass except for a few random cells….."
Letting out another sigh of dejection, and attempting to sink deeper into the plush cushions of the couch, Rebecca was still unable to rid herself of the strange cloud of frustration that seemed to wrap itself about her like a cloak about the mind. It was like her brain was trying to swim through a thick molasses.
What was wrong with her lately?
The episode earlier between Brohde, James Corgan , and herself was so uncharacteristic so as to be bizarre.True she hadn't really had the opportunity to speak with the new Security chief since that fateful night back on her Mother's Farm, but it still didn't account for the hostile manner in which she treated James.
~~Maybe Brohde is rubbing off on me more than I thought,~~~ she mused somberly.
What a horrible thought. Rebecca had served as the cantankerous old Captains right hand for well over a year aboard the Excelsior Class USS Prospero, and had quickly developed a rather poor opinion of the grump.
While in fact she did learn a bit about self confidence and maintaining discipline from John Q, but as far as Tactics, and human relations went. . . it had been a wasted year. The only real development was the fact that Admiral Hoth's favorite prodigy was rapidly developing an infamous reputation throughout the fleet as the silent but deadly counterpart to Brohde's blowhard nature.
Whereas the crew of the Prospero had been afraid that Brohde might get them killed in the course of performing his duty, they became quite terrified that the tiny redhead would quite nonchalantly sacrifice their lives on purpose in order to obtain some obscure tactical advantage.
Staring blindly up at the arched ceiling above her and resting her tiny hands atop her abdomen, Rebecca considered a new third possibility.
The crew of the Galaxy had the distinct difference over the Prospero in the fact that they KNEW her already.
That is to say, the cold hearted, monosyllabic Ice Queen that arrived aboard Prospero, was infinitely different from the skittish, fumble-footed young waif that first stumbled her way aboard the Galaxy two years before hand.
The Prospero crew worried about being killed on purpose, while the Galaxy crew fretted over her wiping them out in some blundering accident.
She was too tired to contemplate the significance of those distinctions.
Furrowing her brows low over her watery brown eyes, Rebecca stared off into the darkness and considered for the first time the change itself in her personality.
It hadn't really occurred to her lately how drastic the differences in her personality and reputation were. Her recent visit to the Academy in San Fransico just prior to launch had changed that.. Those cadets had been 'terrified' of her.
~When did this happen?~ she wondered. The fact that the campus on which she had been routinely tortured and humiliated on during her education, now viewed her in abject fear was something of an ironic shocker.
No longer did cadets whisper and giggle about the ineptitude of 'Cadet Cloaking Device', but rather nowadays traded hushed tales about the infamous butcher of Nar Hallas, the slayer of Borg during the Queen's are Wild incident, and the infamous Ice Bitch of Prospero.
Recalling the fear in the two cadets eyes made Rebecca wonder if the change was an improvement.
Shaking her head to clear away such thoughts, the young officer automatically set her pale features into the emotionless mask of disapproval that had served her well since her epiphany a year ago aboard the Space Station K-4.
It was there. . . .somewhere aboard the rickety old station, in the presence of old James Corgan that the shy stuttering mass of skinny bones had suddenly snapped and transformed into the moody, spiteful witch she was today.
~~James James James…..~~ she mused, ~~What happened to me? Why was I so mean to you today?~~~
No answers were forthcoming from the eerie darkness of her quarters, and for long moments the elfin girl sat quite unmoving on the sofa, her eyes staring unblinking into the shadows.
She felt. . . . .nothing.
Nothing at all.
Whereas the Rebecca of old was ajumbled mass of unbalanced emotions, nowadays there was. . . .nothing.
Whereas the Stuttering young Ensign from two years ago jumped at her own shadow, and was afraid of everything. . . . . Today Rebecca feared . . . .
~~~What do I fear?~~~ she searched her feelings carefully.
Nothing. . . .she was afraid of nothing.
~~No that's not quite right.~~ she corrected herself. It was not that she suddenly gained a mountain of courage with which to stare down the unknown.
In truth it was that she just didn't care anymore. Not since K-4, maybe even before that. If she succeded, or failed. . . .she didn't care. If she lived or died. . . .she didn't care.
Why?
~~~Because nothing matters anymore.~~~
Notes: Backpost, set in 2373, USS Indiana.
Note 2: SEX! Yes, sex between man and woman, read it and weep! MA! NC-17! You
name it! Nice sex ;) LOL!
Note 3: Me and Katherine wrote it...surprised? Didn’t think so.
"Bloody 'ell..." Edith Monaghan whispered as she crashed into the bulkhead as the ship shook again. She fell down without a sound, blood running down her cheek from a cut. She was dizzy and when she lifted her fingers to her head, she found blood. 'Okay, a bump on the head'...she thought and tried to stand but the ship shook again and she gave up. She was unsure where she was and what was going on, a nervous Ensign in Counselling.
However, for Grant, this was all routine, stopping only briefly as the ship shook to make sure he kept his balance before moving swiftly on. The aim was simple, make sure everyone was cleared out in case intruders managed to worm their way through. He lifted his arm to wipe his forehead, pausing for a moment to turn his head a little, sure he'd heard something. Readying his weapon, he motioned for Wilkinson to follow him so they could investigate.
'On all four...I feel like a dog...' Edith though as she crawled out of the way. She had been actually gone to see her patient, Kelia Bayrone, who was confined to quarters since she couldn't handle battle. And Edith, who was an Ensign in Counselling and therefore of no use, had volunteered herself, without anyone knowing, to stay with the woman. Truth be told, Edith was supposed to be in her quarters, or helping people in sickbay. She grimaced and wiped the blood from her forehead, trying to see straight. The bump on her head must be bad, because her vision swam slightly. "You gotta do what you gotta do..." she whispered and then chuckled, thinking about Velma Kelly who just *had* to shoot her husband and sister after finding them doing 'nr. 17 the spread eagle'. Her fault, listening to Chicago earlier that day. As the ship shook again, she lost whatever balance she had left and rolled into the middle of the corridor. People ran past her, too busy or panicked to see her there. She covered her head as someone almost stepped on her. Someone did step on her as well and she tried to move away.
Having moved on, Hugo's eyes settled on the woman on the ground, frowning at what he saw of the people around her. "Hey!" He moved forward and pretty much shoved the man who had stepped on her away with an almost disgusted look. Leaning down, he picked her up easily and moved her swiftly through to a now empty set of quarters. Setting her down on a chair, he dropped to a crouch in front of her. "You should be in your quarters..." He said absently, his eyes focussed on her injuries, using a sleeve to wipe the blood away.
She looked at him, narrowed her eyes. "True," she then said in a rich Scottish accent. "But I always liked being stepped on, so..." she joked and laughed lightly, yet shakingly. She was still trembling even so slightly, trying to focus on his face.
It was the voice that first startled Hugo, making him switch his focus from the injuries to her face itself. "Bloody hell..." He breathed, backing off a little. "Are you Edith Monaghan?" He asked with awe. She looked at him with surprise. "Not even a 'are you okay, Ensign'?" she asked and nodded, though it made her dizzy. "Aye...Edith Monaghan. Ensign Edith Monaghan, Counselling"
"I'll be damned..." Hugo looked at her, not quite believing it. "I'm a huge fan Miss Monaghan...I mean, it's not everyday you get to meet the person you've followed on stage for years...let alone help them...and talk like this...and..." Hugo had to shake himself out of his rambling induced from meeting the woman he'd been a fan of for years. He gave a slightly embarrassed cough at his display that was so unlike his professional self, and endeavoured to at least save a little of himself in front of her so she didn't think him a complete prat. "I mean...are you okay, Ensign?"
She laughed warmly and placed her hand on his shoulder. "I'm fine...and I depth to you, Mister...?" she looked at him, realised she was blushing. A fan? That seemed so strange a word, and that someone had followed her stage career? Even stranger.
"Grant." He took her other hand and shook it enthusiastically with a smile. "Hugo Grant...and you have no idea just how pleased I am to meet you..."
"I am honoured, Mister Grant. And it's a pleasure to be rescued by you," she said and looked over his shoulder, at the Marine watching them with a confused look. The ship shook again, reminding her where they were.
It did the same to Hugo. He stood up and looked down at her, his hands resting on his hips. "We had better get you to sickbay...that injury looks nasty."
She looked him and him and narrowed her eyes. "My vision is blurred..." she admitted quietly. She doubted she could stand, and she really wasn't for trying.
Hugo bent down and picked her up again. This was surreal...well and truly surreal....he was holding the woman who's acting and singing he'd hung for years in his arms. He cleared his throat as he passed Wilkinson, motioning with his head for him to join the others whilst he sorted her getting to sickbay. He walked with a swift pace, trying to look ahead rather than at her because he knew he'd only end up staring. "It's going to be hectic in there..." He warned.
She rested her cheek against his shoulder, her arms around his neck to make it easier for him to carry her. After all, she wasn't a boyish thin woman, but a real Scot with the forms that went with her heritage. "Of course. We're under attack, right?" she said softly, chuckling. "Thank you, Hugo"
He allowed himself to turn his head to look at her with a smile then. "My pleasure." He assured before darkening a little in colour and looking forward again. Turning to take her into sickbay, they found the word he had used to describe it was spot on. "You know, I would stay with you...and believe me, I really would love to...but I have to get back before Wilkinson starts pressing buttons or blows something up, you can't leave him alone for five minutes..." He joked weakly.
She nodded and was set down. Leaning against the wall, she looked at him. "Thank you again, Hugo. And...be careful, okay?" she met his eyes and smiled to him.
Hugo smiled back, almost immediately glancing away though...what the hell was wrong with him? He was never usually like this with women...but then, she wasn't just any woman. "I'll come back and check on you when things have settled down." He promised with a wink as he flashed a slight grin before turning and heading out of Sickbay.
: She smiled and then looked around. "A heart full of love...no fear, no regret..." she sang softly and then huckled, looking around to find a nurse. She was grateful of Hugo, fascinated by the Marine and...it had to be grateful, yes? Why should she feel anything else? And he had his appeal, a handsome man...she shook her head and was then approached by a nurse. She allowed herself to be led away, her mind going blank. 'I am glass. Pretty glass in the sunshine...' she though. For, who would have guessed that she was terrified of sickbays? Not many...
After the batlle was over and everything settling down to repairs and recovery, Hugo finally headed for Sickbay, relieved at being able to go and check on Edith, having thought of nothing else. He looked in, glad to see that although Sickbay was busy, it had significantly settled down from what it had been. After a word with a nurse, he was led to Edith. Smiling, he went to the side of the bed she was sat on, looking more than a little disgruntled at being there. "Hello..." Was all he could find to say in his nervousness, a part of his mind wanting to smack some sense into himself.
Her face lit up as she saw him and she smiled. "Hugo, my rescuer," she said and stood up, chuckling. "The docs won't let me go, damn their prissy arses to hell an' back," she rolled her eyes theatrically to the nurse and then looked at Hugo again. "Glad to see..."
Hugo gave a laugh at that. "I'm not that bad a Marine." He said with a wink, waiting for the nurse to clear off before he reached into a pocket and pulling out a small flask. "I have a gift for you..." He passed it over to her and put it in her hands before it could be seen. "Scotch..." He said quietly with a grin. "The real stuff...thought you could do with it being stuck in here."
"Thank God!" she looked at it and laughed. "you're a grand man, Hugo...for an Englishman..."
Giving a look of mock startlement, although having expected some comment like that at some point, Hugo playfully punched the top of her arm. "Well I take that as the highest of compliments..."
"Oh, it is," she said and stuck the bottle in her pocket. "I usually just sneer at Englishmen," she joked and winked at him, before sitting down on the biobed. "Have a seat"
He slipped up onto the bed beside her. "You know..." He started, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm sorry for my lack of tact before..."
She looked at him and arched a brow. "Oh please...do you
think I care about tact? You saved me...you have nothing to be sorry for, though
I
could already see the headlines...'Scottish Ensign tramped to death after falling',"
she laughed over that, shaking her head.
Hugo laughed with her, looking down before having the courage
to glance back up at her. "I never thought I would be fortunate to meet
you."
She blushed and looked down. "And I..." she chuckled, rather unsure. "I'm sorry. I just never thought anyone would remember me after I left..." she looked at him, a small smile on her face. "
Hey..." Hugo nudged her with an elbow as he smiled. "Don't
see why...you were amazing on stage. You were my favourite." He said with
a chuckle.
"Is that a fact?" she chuckled and looked at him, her brown eyes filled with humour. "Well, finally a Brit with taste..."
"You made a fantastic Lady Macbeth..." Hugo gave a nod before giving a slight laugh, "...although if you'd count that as a compliment or not, I'm not sure."
"I liked her, so I'll take it as a compliment," she said and nudged him back with a laughter. "Though if you say 'you made a good Velma,' then I'll smack you on the head"
Hugo gave a laugh. "Well actually...now you say it..." Hugo ducked with a grin in time to miss her hand.
"Shame on you!" she laughed and shook her head. "Just remember, Velma killed her sister and husband...so imagine what I could do if I put me mind to it," she joked and added a wicked laughter for good measure.
"I'll have to be careful with you in the future then..." He replied with a smile before realising what he'd said, looking down at turning a dark shade of red as he tried to dig himself out of it. "I mean...that is...not that I'm saying we have a future...ah...and not that *that* meant that we don't...but...I just meant...oh hell, that didn't come out very well either..." He finally shut himself up and gave an apologetic smile.
She laughed and looked at him. "Why knows?" she said in a low, sensual voice. "At least, I consider you a friend. And maybe you'd make a half-decent drinking-partner as well..."
Before he had a chance to think about what he was doing, Hugo suddenly leant forward and took hold of the side of her face, kissing her hard until he was forced to pull back for breath. He looked at her with slightly wide eyes, preparing himself for the whack he expected for it. "I have wanted to do that for years, and I wasn't about to lose what could be my only chance..." He said in his defence as he waited.
She was shocked, but surprised. And then, she laughed and grabbed a hold of his shirt, pulling him towards her and kissing him hard. When she pulled back, she laughed. "And that was my thank you, for saving me bum..." she said and winked to him. "By the way, you're not a bad kisser...for an Englishman"
It was Hugo's turn to be shocked, staring at her for a moment before a grin appeared on his features. "Hell...that was the one thing I've wanted for bloody years, what am I going to aim for from now on in life?" He joked.
"Get me in the sack?" she said, mock serious. Then,
when he looked at her in shock, she nudged him. "What? Oh, come on, I found
that bloody
hilarious"
"Scottish humour...bloody hell, what have I let myself into..." Hugo joked with a perfectly straight face until he gave a wink.
She laughed and nudged him again. "Bloody Saxon..."
"Saxon? Saxon?" Hugo gave a look of shock. "And there I was thinking they exaggerated when they said you lot can hold a grudge for a long time..."
"Hold a grudge? We? Oh, aye...so never, ever make us angry..." she leant closer, looking into his eyes with a small smile.
He mirrored her, leaning forward and smiling. "Unfortunately, it seems to be my talent, pissing people off."
"Strange...mine too..." she whispered and looked down,
at his lips. She wanted to kiss him again, liking kissing him. She smiled and
met
his eyes again. "As long as you don't piss me off too much"
"I can't make any promises on that..." He replied softly before edging forward and kissing her, his hand slipping round to the back of her neck to tug her a little closer, taking his time this time without the danger of being hit any moment.
She kissed him back, resting her hands on his shoulders when she had no idea where to put them anymore. She moaned lightly in the kiss, almost a purr of delight. Oh yes, after almost being killed, kissing a man was a treat she would never give up.
Smiling into the kiss at her reaction, Hugo gently pulled back
to look at her. "You know...after this, I will be most offended if you
were turn down an invitation to dinner sometime..."
"Dinner? Sounds great..." she said with a smile. "But I am Scottish...I eat a lot..."
"Oh...you won't when you taste my cooking..." He said with a laugh.
She laughed and placed her hand on his cheek, looking at him. "I'll wager I'll eat something..."
Hugo grinned at that, his hand lowering to rest on her thigh. "Just as well, I'd be very disappointed if you didn't."
She smiled to him, a sweet smile before looking around. "I
hate sickbays...reminds me when I was doing Moulin Rouge. My partner
dropped me and I broke my ankle..."
Hugo couldn't help a slight smile but tried to look sympathetic for her instead. "Laid up from dancing for a week."
"Yes! I could have strangled him!" she said and laughed. "Instead, I tripped him when we were dancing later..."
"Two wrongs really do make a right, huh?" Hugo said with a laugh.
"In my book anyway"
"Hm...I shall have to remember that..." He said with a look of mock worry.
She hit his arm. "Shame on you, Marine," she cried with false despair. Then, she looked around again. "So...this dinner...is it a date?"
"I should hope so...unless you want to shatter all my hopes and dreams of course..." He teased.
"A date sounds nice," she said and then took his hand and kissed it as a gesture. "Don't you have duties to perform, Marine?"
Hugo gave a theatrical sigh before standing up. "Yeah yeah...you're as bad as that lot."
: "Me bad? Ye 'aven't seen yerself, Saxon," she said and lay down, laughing slightly.
"I'll have you know I'm an easy going kind of bloke..."
Hugo replied with mock defensiveness. He smiled and leant down, his hand on
her hip as he kissed her hard again, pulling back to give her grin. "Just
to make sure..." He said with a wink before turning and strolling out
of Sickbay.
She laughed and watched him go. "Oh, you'll be sure, Saxon..."
she whispered and lay down as a Nurse walked to her with a disapproving
frown. She smiled back and laughed.
"I like your quarters..." Edith said as she looked around. She was wearing a long, red dress with a low cut, thinking that a date should be a *date*. She looked at him again and smiled. "What? My quarters are a mess"
Hugo looked around his with an arched eyebrow...they could almost be called sterile. No one would be able to tell they were even lived in. "Hm...thanks..." He said, but uncertainly. He turned his eyes onto her again and gave a bright smile. "You look absolutely beautiful."
She blushed and looked down slightly. Not many could make her
blush, but Hugo had it in him to do it. "Thank you...and you...look rather
handsome"
He looked down at himself with a slight laugh. "Really...it's okay...no need to make me feel better..." He fell silent for a moment or two, trying to shake his nerves away from being with the woman of his dreams. "Er...wine?" He finally asked, hoping he couldn't go too wrong with simply asking that.
She nodded and moved closer. "Yes please, monsieur Grant," she said softly and smiled to him.
Hugo smiled back, finding himself torn between forgetting about the wine and just staying where he was in front of her, and fetching it. His manners winning out, he went and poured them both a glass of wine, bringing the bottle over with him to the low table so they could sit on the sofa. "Red...Rovaer...I looked up an interview to find out what you liked..." He admitted with a laugh.
She sipped the wine and smiled. "I feel honoured," she said softly.
Hugo gave a shrug and shook his head. "Just don't want to mess this up..." He confessed with a smile that betrayed his nerves.
"How could you possible mess up?" she asked, looking at him with a small smile. "I am terrified I won't live up to your expectations..."
"You have by merely turning up." He said with a chuckle. "I've been convinced you weren't going to."
"How could I say no to a date with a handsome Marine?" she said and sipped the wine, keeping his eyes.
"Because he made a total fool of himself falling over his words because he was nervous of being around a woman he'd only ever got close to by watching her on stage?" He suggested with a slight grin.
She smiled and looked at him. "But why are we nervous? We have kissed...so why should talking be so hard?"
"This makes it...kind of official." Hugo laughed at the term he used.
"I'm sorry...I..." Instead, he leant forward and kissed her lightly, smiling at her afterward. "There. Better." He said with a chuckle, letting a long breath out.
She laughed and placed the wineglass away and kissed him again. "There...much better," she said to him, her hand going over his hair.
"You know..." Hugo trailed his fingertips down her arm. "This is so surreal for me...stuff of the imagination only so I thought..."
"I am human...not a bleeding goddess!" she exclaimed with laughter as she reached for her glass.
Hugo laughed at that. "You may as well have been...I mean...me...a
Marine...you...an actress and singer...and a damned fine one. How
likely was it ever?"
"I'm a counsellor now...an Ensign," she said and sipped
the wine slowly, closing her eyes. But damn, Hugo made her feel like she was
worshipped.
"I'm sorry..." Hugo pulled back and smiled gently. "I'm making you uncomfortable."
She looked at him and smiled. "No...you're not," she said and touched his cheek. "You're making me feel like I did after the shows"
He looked at her curiously, having no idea about that kind of thing...he merely red and watched...never acted. "Like what?" He asked, turning so he was fully facing her, pulling one leg up under him.
"Like I could take on anything. The applause...you get addicted to it and you want to go out again and again and receive it..." she whispered, smiling. "And the rythm becomes your heartbeat and you...it's almost better than sex...hell, better than most sex I've had," she said and chuckled softly.
Hugo gave a laugh at that. "Seems like I've been missing out all this time then..."
She blushed and looked away. "Well...it's my opinion anyway..."
"Hey..." He took hold of the side of her face, feeling the heat of the blush with a smile. "Perhaps you've just been with the wrong men..." He teased with a wink.
"Think you could do a better job?" she asked with a laughter. It was meant as a joke, as a tease...but she regretted saying it. 'Ye stupid lass...' she thought. 'Ye sound like a whore'.
"Well...I can't hold a comparison with the feeling of applause...but hey, bet I could at least get something from you." Hugo replied with a shrug and a sly smile before moving forward without warning, kissing at the crook of her neck, running the tip of his tongue in a teasing circle over the skin.
: She let out a soft sound, smiling. "Maybe..." she said, like it didn't matter for her.
Hugo chuckled against her neck, his hands slipping round to undo the back of her dress, although he did it slowly, giving her time to pull back or hit him if she wanted to. He tugged the dress down so it bunched at her waist. Hugo smiled appreciatively as he ran a fingertip over her collarbone and then down her middle as far as the dress at her waist allowed. "Maybe? That a go ahead?"
"Yes," she whispered and kissed him hard on the lips,
her hands going to his shirt. She wanted to tear it off, but settled with undoing
the
buttons.
Hugo chuckled, taking hold of her hands. "Hang on...I dont remember giving you permission though..." He said lightly with a smile, pushing her gently back on the sofa, laying her hands above her head before lowering his own hands to urge her hips up so he could slide the dress completely off her, dropping it to the floor. He stopped a moment, drinking in the sight of her with warm eyes. He shook himself out of it with a grin, leaning down over her to kiss across her shoulder as he slipped his hand under her to undo the clasp of the red bra. "Aha..." He got it undone after a moment or two of effort and pulled it off and away, trailing his mouth over the new skin it exposed, savouring the taste against his tongue as he used it to caress.
She moaned weakly, looking at him. "You have no idea how
long it is since I last did this..." she whispered as a confession, not
moving
her hands but arching up against him.
"Far too long?" He suggested, looking up at her and lifting a hand to stroke the side of her face tenderly before smiling and lowering his mouth to a nipple, circling his tongue around it until he had her moving for more and finally allowing it to almost casually flick over it before sucking with slow but definite rhythm, his hands sliding down to trace a teasing pattern over her hip.
l: She moaned and closed her eyes. "Oh yes...far too long..." she whispered and then but her lower lip with a smile. She stretched and arched against him. "I want to touch you..." she said softly, her voice low and seductive.
Sucking in a harsh breath from her words, it took every ounce of his self-control to just smile up at her instead of begging her to. He took her hands and slid them into his hair. "That's it." He said with a grin before moving down, kissing over the flat stomach, his tongue snaking out to leave a trail as he went over her hip to her thigh, nipping gently.
Her hands caressed his hair and teased his ears as she watched him breathlessly. Was this real? Yes...it was. And oh, so good. "You were meant for me..." she started to sing softly. "And I'm sure that someday soon you'll see we can not be apart...No, we must not be apart, or the nightmares will start and you might break my heart...Don't break my heart...." She had no idea why the song had popped up, but she found it fitting, especially with her on the sofa like this, almost naked.
Hugo smiled at hearing her voice...it really was the most beautiful, and yes, seductive voice he had ever heard. He used his fingers to gently hook around her red underwear, slipping them down and off before he let his mouth wander to the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh, his tongue running up before using his mouth and teeth to gently tease.
Her voice trailed from the song in a moan. "Do all Englishmen have such lips, such teeth and such tongue?" she asked, breathing hard. Her hands went through his hair. He looked up at her with a smile, watching her and her reaction as he slipped his hand up her thigh, just letting his fingertips tease over her, barely brushing her clit. "I really wouldn't know."
She gasped and closed her eyes. "Damn you, Hugo...typical Saxon to tease me..." she said, with a hint of passion and want. She looked at him, watched his grin. "Please....Hugo...Please..."
"Sure..." He said, his grin widening as his hands slipped to her hips to lightly hold her, only for support though as he lowered his head, using his tongue to gently slide over her clit before using the tip to slowly circle instead. He switched between the two actions randomly, getting a touch faster.
She moaned, closing her eyes at the incredible feeling of the touch of a man. She found that Hugo was quite talented in this, and she wanted to kiss whoever had had the kindness of heart to teach him this. "Oh yes...Hugo, don't stop..." she moaned, her hips arching up against his mouth.
Hugo smiled before closing his lips over her clit, sucking slowly at first, but then faster, using his tongue to flick over as well. He used one hand to encourage her to move her hips as she wished to as the other slipped down to her leg, teasing up her thigh before slipping a finger inside of her, slowly stroking.
She let out a soft cry and moaned, one hand clenching his shoulder and the other one in her hair. She had felt so stressed, so very stressed and alone and cold and...but now she was warm and he was there and she...she couldn't describe it. "Hugo...oh Hugo!" she cried as she came, screaming his name in ecstasy. "Oh god..."
Finally letting her go, Hugo kissed gently up her body. He took hold of the side of her face, smiling at her for a few moments before actually speaking. "You were amazing you know." He said with a grin before kissing her on the cheek.
She kissed his cheek, her breathing still harsh. "That was...wonderful..." she whispered in his ear. "But it's unfair that you're clothed and I'm naked"
Hugo chuckled at that. "I was proving a point to you...although what it was, I've quite forgotten...."
"I think you proved it well..." she whispered and pushed him back, sitting up and pushing the shirt off his shoulders. She let her hands travel down his chest, her eyes following them with a smile.
Looking up at her with a smile, Hugo shifted a little. "Edith...it's okay." He assured, covering her hands his own.
She looked at him and smiled. "I know. But I want you, Hugo. I want to feel your body...ever inch of your body against mine. I want to taste you, to feel you...to know you..." her hands went up his sides, a steady touch as she mapped the skin.
Hugo let out a weak moan, his eyes almost nervously watching her hand's progress as he tried to relax under her...a difficult task when her very touch made him want to arch up off the sofa.
She smiled and kissed him tenderly, and then moved to his neck, sucking on his pulse. "Shh..." she whispered as her hands went to his belt. She watched him with a smile as she removed the belt and threw it away. She dragged her fingernails up the zipper, chuckling. "Need help?"
Hugo's reply caught in the back of his throat...he couldn't believe it...couldn't believe it was actually happening...Edith Monaghan was interested in him and was making a shudder run through his body. He nodded his head with a smile, sliding a hand up one of her arms, wanting to touch the flawless skin.
She smiled to him and unbuttoned his trousers and dragged the zipper down. "Lie back," she whispered, moving so that her palms lay on his chest.
Hugo took a deep breath, doing as he was told and tried to keep still, closing his eyes, but he was fighting with the urge to look up at her, wanting to see her. He ended propped up a little on one elbow, watching her with eager eyes.
She smiled and removed his shoes and socks first, massaging his feet slightly before moving so she lay on top of him. She kissed his lips and sucked on the lower lip before kissing his throat and sucking on his Adam’s apple.
A low groan came from the back of Hugo's throat as his head tilted back to offer more. He moved his hands to her body, sliding up her sides and tried to keep it just to gentle caresses rather than actually taking hold of her.
"You want me?" she whispered as she moved down to kiss his chest, then to bite gently into his nipple. She smiled at his reaction, stroking soothingly on the other side of his chest.
"God, yes..." He moaned, and the words were almost a stammer, arching his back up to her, unable to keep still under the assault of two such different sensations.
She smiled and let him go, pulling the trousers off him. She played with the waistband of his underwear, not pulling them off. "On or off?" she asked innocently.
He managed a laugh between harsh breaths, finding breathing a little harder as he looked up at her. "Off..." He met her eyes, his hand going up to touch her hair.
She smiled and pulled them off, throwing them other her shoulder. She looked at him, naked before her, and smiled. "God, you're beautiful, Hugo..." she whispered, her hand going down his hip and his leg. "Just...beautiful. So pure and..."
Hugo couldn't help the way his hips moved just a touch from the sofa. He tried to laugh again, although this was time was more difficult. "Hardly pure..." He said between breaths, his hands sliding down over her shoulders and gently onto her breasts, a smile on his features.
"You are to me..." she whispered and took him in her hand before replacing the hand with her mouth. She closed her eyes, wanting to be good to him, to give him release and maybe forgetfulness for just one night.
Taking hold of the edge of the sofa, Hugo gripped it, trying
to steady his breathing against the moan that was threatening to escape.
He tried to keep his hips firmly on the sofa, his chest rising and falling a
little more steeply. "So good..." He murmured under a shallow breath.
She smiled and let go, looking at him. "Can I ask something of you?" she asked as she traced his chest with a finger.
Hugo gave a moan at the feeling having gone and used a hand to cover his eyes to try and steady himself. "Y-Yes..." He replied, his body rocking up with want at her touch.
"Just let go..." she whispered and lowered her head again, taking him in. Her tongue worked on him, tricking and stroking. She would stop before it became too much, but she wanted to hear him.
It actually took an effort for him to allow himself to, but as her tongue worked on him, the warm pleasure started to give him no choice but to, a low moan of need coming from him as he his breathing became shaky, his hands sliding into his hair as he murmured her name, although it was practically incoherent mixed with another groan he gave.
She smiled and then let him go again, moving so she lay at his side, half on top of him. "I want you, Hugo..." she whispered, looking at his handsome face. She traced it with a finger, traced his forehead, his nose, the strong jaw, up to his cheekbones and then his lips.
Hugo gave a shiver, all too aware of the way his skin burned with want. He reached forward and took hold of the side of her face, kissing her hard, his tongue searching her mouth with need as he pulled them up off the sofa, holding her tight against him, one arm wrapped around her waist, and the other hand holding the back of her head.
She kissed him back, her hands on his shoulders as she held onto him. "Sex on the first date...impressive," she breathed against his lips.
"Must make me some kind of slut..." Hugo joked, walking her back until she was up against the bulkhead, his mouth moving down to suck and bite lightly on her neck as he used a hand to lift one of her legs up to wrap about his, his hand caressing it roughly now his want was growing.
She moaned and arched her back. "Two sluts...nice...but tomorrow, we might die...so we might as well sleep together...you'll let me stay the night?" she asked between breaths, wanting him to take her.
"I'd be disappointed if you didn't..." He replied, his voice almost shaking as he took hold of her hands with his spare and held them against the bulkhead as he pressed his body against hers, moving his body a little to create friction as he sucked harshly on the front of her throat and then up to her jaw.
"Oh yes..." she moaned and moved so she could kiss his temple and whatever part she could reach. "Please...more..."
Hugo smiled, resting his head against her shoulder, breathing heavily. "Still want me?" He whispering into her ear before sucking on the lobe, his hand squeezing her thigh against his.
"You can bet your pretty bum on that, Hugo," she breathed and looked at him. "Want me to beg?"
"Seeing a Scotswoman beg...there is something appealing about it..."
Hugo laughed as he moved as if to enter her, but didn't, just stayed there, teasing her by pushing forward just a little so he was there, but not...even if it did take all of his selfcontrol to be able to do it.
She let out a sound much like a sob. "Please...Hugo, please...do it. Take me...that or drug me, cut my head of or give me a lobotomy..."
Hugo smiled as he thrust into her, shuddering at the feel and not able to stop a groan. "Hell..." He breathed, closing his eyes and holding on tightly to her before he began moving in her, but too worked up to keep the movements slow or steady, he was almost harsh and fast, the pleasure starting to take over rather than his mind.
"Oh yes..." she moaned, ignoring that the back of her head hit the bulkhead, only conscious of him and her. Fuck, the ship could have blown up and she wouldn't have cared. "Oh Hugo...oh..." she moaned, no, more screamed.
The sound of her only made him move harder, his hands keeping her pushed back hard into the bulkhead as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level, his climax hitting him hard and drawing her name form him in a loud groan before he dropped his head to half suck and half bite at the crook of her neck.
She cried out his name as she came, tightening her leg around his, her eyes closed in bliss of the climax.
It took several long moments for Hugo to get his breath back and lift his head to look at her, giving a slight shiver at the feel of the sweat on his skin. He kissed her gently, resting his forehead against hers. "Damn, that was good, Edith..." He finally whispered with a soft laugh, not quite believing it.
"That wasn't just fucking. I don't have a word for this. Mind-blowing. Better than applause..." she whispered, knowing she didn't make much sense
"Damn right..." Hugo looked up at her, meeting her eyes and holding them, unable to find words that did it justice. He finally pulled back, but took her hand, leading her through to the bedroom so they could relax a little more comfortably. "You're right...not just fucking." He gave a smile that held an almost shy edge. "Thanks..."
Menecairiel: She lay down and held out her hand, waiting for him to take it. "Thanks for what? Takes two to tango"
Hugo took it with a smile, laying out next to her and slip his arms around her waist to hold her close. "For giving me a chance instead of knocking me back as many others would have after I made such a prat of myself."
She snuggled closer. "You're too nice to reject"
Hugo chuckled at that, but there was little warmth in it. He couldn't bring himself to reply to that, so instead pulled a cover up over them, kissing her shoulders lightly.
"And too handsome," she added with a laugh, taking his hand and kissing it.
He used his fingertips to trace down the side of her face. "Why did you leave the stage?" he suddenly asked quietly.
She tensed slightly but then smiled weakly. "I wasn't getting
younger...I wanted a break and a career that could last. Being on
stage can't feed you forever"
Hugo smiled gently to her. "I can understand that."
"I miss it," she then said sadly.
He instinctively held her closer. "It was a major part of your life, I don't doubt that you do." He kissed her hair. "There's no reason you have to give acting and singing up completely though, is there?"
She bit her lower lip. "I don't like talking about it"
"I'm sorry." He said with a frown, pulling away a little. "Then we won't. I shouldn't have brought it up in the first place."
He turned and kissed his lips. "It's okay. You were curious"
"No. I should have known better." Hugo gave a weak smile. "Even after all this time I haven't learnt to keep my mouth shut."
"I like your mouth," she said and kissed the corners of it.
Hugo couldn't help but give a chuckle at that, turning his head to kiss her back. "This has been a great night." He smiled to her, lacing his fingers with hers.
"It's not done yet," she said and laughed, kissing him.
The mirror was an old Acturian one, full of milky white blotches and spiderwebby cracks. It had seen many owners over it's long life, many faces had peered at themselves within it's depts and pondered deep thoughts.
This was the first owner to ponder their divinity, however.
The knife was made of obsidian, and short of a molecular monofiliment cutter, it was about the sharpest thing known to the Universe. It parted the Divine Skin without pause, and the Divine Blood flowed forth.
"Yeeeeeessssss......" whispered The Destroyer in an esctastic rush, staring at the outpouring with hungry eyes. A lesser being would have felt joy, happiness, anything. The Destroyer felt nothing, except that it WAS the Destroyer, and the Divine Bloodletting was needed.
Now.
Again.
When the stress of dealing with these inferior beings got to
be too much, a nice long talk with your Divine Self in the mirror, and a bit
of Divine
Blood being let was always good. The scars could always be covered, the Divine
Blood secreted away from the prying eyes and. . .
The inferiors were ALWAYS watching.
Talking.
Chattering like monkeys.
Did they not know The Destroyer walked their midst?
This small ship was a mere mote compared to the vastness of space.. the vastness that The Destroyer knew well. The cold Void matched the place where The Destroyer once had emotions. It was harder to cloak one's Divinity here. Harder to appear to be GLAD to walk amongst the chattering, nattering, stinking inferiors. The Monkeys.
Harder to be the Destroyer.
The Divine hand tightened on the Divine Knife.
Making a scar in the Divine Flesh was acceptable...Spilling the Divine Blood of The Destroyer was acceptable. Such is the price of being Divine.
But maybe. . .
Maybe spilling some Monkey Blood would be better?
Maybe some Monkey Blood would make the Monkeys realize they should FEAR the Destroyer, even if they did not realize why?
The Divine Obsidian Knife glittered under the harsh ship's lighting.
"Yeeeeeeesssssssss . . . . . ." hissed The Destroyer again.
Time to spill some Monkey Blood, see what happened.
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