Flirt or Strangle

Posted on Mon 28th Oct, 2024 @ 9:59am by Commander Heriah Rex
Edited on on Mon 28th Oct, 2024 @ 1:15pm

1,254 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: The Phoenix Gamble
Location: Shuttle Transport
Timeline: A Few Days Ago

The trip had been uneventful. Fly to Phobos, change flights, board a shuttle for Jupiter Station. There was a more scenic route around Jupiter, nothing Heriah had not seen already but she enjoyed the view each and every time. But the vessel for said route was going on out to Saturn for a tour then back to Phobos, without a stop at Jupiter Station, since JS is Starfleet only. Shuttlecraft it was.

Heriah sat in the back with her luggage and studied a datapad.

“Why aren’t you a counselor, ma’am?” said the pilot. His voice was the first thing to break the monotony of the hum of the shuttlecraft and the minute beeps from the console.

“Excuse me,” Heriah looked up from her datapad. Displayed was a crew manifest and everything she would need to know about the crew. She did not yet review who the captain was. “What was that?”

“You don’t seem to be the type for Command. I mean, you do. But you seem more the type for counseling.” The shuttle was on autopilot for the Jupiter Station, leaving the pilot to whatever duties that needed tending to. Apparently not a thing at all. “Everyone could use a beautiful ear that would listen.”

Heriah figured, correctly, that he was another hopeless romantic. As he carried on with his compliments and his shy way of hitting on her, Heriah realized this was going to be just like all the other occasions where she found herself alone with a boy for any length of time. Situations like this would always happen from time to time. She just needed to get used to it or deal with. Boys were always going to be boys. She could listen, flirt back a little, completely ignore him, act like his words mean nothing, wrap her hands around his throat and choke the living…

‘Stop it Rex!’

‘What? I bet he would not mind dying at all as long as it is you.'

“That is all I am really saying. You know, someone with your…” he broke off.

“My looks,” she smiled at him somewhat seductively, choosing the flirtatious approach. She could see him redden and tense up. He had to turn back to his console, went back to doing nothing.

“So are you joined?”

For Trills, joining can sometimes be a private matter. Joining sometimes brought on a mark of status. Unjoined Trills were sometimes regarded as lesser beings, only half a person. Trills generally kept joining to themselves and did not always talk about such things with non-Trills. Many were still getting used to the idea of a person with a ‘slug’ worming around inside.

Heriah felt the urge to change the topic. A private matter yes, but she felt to say something about it and segue into another conversation. Dwelling on uncomfortable thoughts sometimes lead her to bouts with anxiety. Already she could feel a violent bout arise.

“I am. Became a new person at that moment and, well…here I am.”

“I heard you fought in the Starfleet Combatives Tournament.”

If he heard about that, then he also heard about her disqualification.

'Come on already. Strangle him.’

“I did,” she replied. “Believe me, I may not look it, but, in a fight, you can bet that I can hold my own.”

“I would like to see that,” he said under his breath to the point that it came out as gibberish, but Heriah understood the meaning all the same. Still, she was gladdened that the topic of joining was gone.

“Say again?” she asked.

“Nothing. Sorry. I was talking to my ship. I do that. Talk to my ship.”

“Oh we all do that.”

“Not as much as I.”

“How much time to do spend on this thing?” Heriah asked him. “All this flying back and forth?”

He tapped a few buttons without even looking. He knew this shuttle well. “I have spent three years now performing the same routine. Earth to the Moon, Mercury, Mars, Asteroid Belt, Jupiter, sometimes Saturn, back and forth and back and forth. All because I crashed a simulator. A simulator!”

‘Not as bad as him crashing at attempts with women. What a loser.’

“And you have not gone back and tried talking to anyone, redeeming yourself?”

“Oh I would not dare. Captain Dungheap said he never wanted to see me again. I am happy to oblige.” But those words did not seem very happy.

“Sounds to me like he may have forgotten the whole thing. Forgotten about you even. Out here flying this shuttle.”

“Now there is a dreadful thought.”

“When you get back to Earth you should bring up your service record, apply for another assignment. Try again on the simulator even.”

“I think I will do that. Hey look, Jupiter.”

Heriah got up and went to the front, sat beside the pilot. “Beautiful isn’t it?”

“Oh yeah. Nothing I have not seen a bajillion times.”

Heriah turned to him and smiled. “At least I am having a good time. And you’re the pilot. In a sense, you’re showing me a good time.”

“Tell me,” he cleared his throat after a nervous choke-up, “When do you plan to be back this way?”

“Oh I don’t know. My assignment is SB109. That is a…”

“Long way away,” he finished.

“But when I am back though…”

“Wait. If I were to ask for a new assignment then…”

“Trust me,” Heriah broke in. “You will have an easier time finding me out there than waiting here.”

He smiled then went back to piloting though the shuttle was still on autopilot.

“Stand up.” Heriah was standing, motioning him to do the same. “Stand up. Come here.”

He finally did and Heriah was quick to embrace him in a hug. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around her after a moment’s quest for answers.

“It is my experience that everyone needs a hug now and then.”

'What are you waiting for? His neck is right there. Waiting to be choked.’

“Like I said, would have made a great counselor,” the pilot said.

The console started beeping. He retook his seat. “Proximity alert. Time to start our arrival. Please return to your seat. I will have you on Jupiter Station in a few minutes.”

“I thank you. I am sure you will make a great pilot.”

“With all this experience, who would not?”

The shuttle arrived and docked. Heriah and her pilot exchanged their goodbyes and she was off carrying and rolling her luggage behind her while following the computer’s directions to her transport’s docking port.

The station did not have much to take in. Unlike tourist stops, this place had no commerce, everyone was in uniform. There was no reason for her to stop and take in the sites, though she did stop once and gaze out upon the Great Red Spot of Jupiter as the station passed over.

Heriah made her way to her transport, greeted the Starfleet personnel registering all going aboard. She had to submit to a thumbprint identification, retina scan identification, voice print identification.

A slide of a door later and Heriah was on board the vessel that would take her to her next vessel that would take her to her next vessel that would eventually take her to SB109. A corridor console was already displaying the path she needed to follow to get to her temporary quarters.

 

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