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"Emergency
Response"
"EMERGENCY RESPONSE STATIONS! You all know who goes where, team leaders get your emergency response communicators and form up your teams and head to your assigned locations. Ensign V'kar, you're coordinating incoming calls and rapid response, Ensign Williams, prepare for triage!" The red alert klaxons had begun sounding in Sickbay just moments ago when the doctor read off a display console that three Romulan warbirds were confirmed preparing an attack formation opposing the Republic. With brisk, military efficiency, the doctor shifted Sickbay into emergency response mode, rounded up his team, clipped his communicator to his shoulder where he'd easily hear communications indicating where his team was needed, and began heading towards main engineering when they felt the sharp hum of the ship's weapons fire. Shortly thereafter, the ship was rocked by Romulan plasma bolts. Again, the republic was felt to fire Torpedos and Phasers, and then the ship lurched with several powerful concussions from either side. The doctor's communicator activated and V'Kar's voice issued forth: <Finnley, respond to phaser fire control 1. Plasma fire eruption, four crew down, one badly burned.> With the inertial dampening fields, gravity plating and structural integrity fields fluctuating throughout the ship, the doctor and his team began fighting their way to the phaser fire control station. The doctor made a quick pit-stop to pick up a plasma fire extinguisher. When they got to the control station the first thing they saw was an ensign slumped against the wall where he'd activated the comm panel to request emergency aid from sick bay. The doctor gestured and one of the medics with him went to treat the ensign as the ship rocked again. The doctor began heading towards the green plasma glow coming from the control room. He held forth the extinguisher and began spraying towards the plasma flames, as one of the three other medics behind him walked over to a control panel to cut off the plasma supplying the flames. Three crewmen were lying on the floor severely burnt. Quickly, the three prone tactical crew were stabilized and loaded onto antigrav stretchers for transport back to sickbay. As the medical team began quickly navigating the rocking ship, the doctor activated the communications panel and reported Phaser control 1 was unmanned, damaged and a potential health risk, so that the appropriate personnel could report to deal with the situation. He
quickly caught up with his team and headed them back to Sickbay as the
ship rocked yet again with oncoming fire.
"The
Final Maneuver"
The ship continued to rock with explosions. Smoke and small fires filled the bridge. Some consoles continued to spark and burn. The Science station was destroyed, Ensign Brazier was badly injured and casualty reports were coming in from all over the ship. But still the Republic fought on as it ducked and dove between the remaining Romulan ships. While focused on evading the weapons from one ship, the Republic concentrated fire on the other with deadly efficiency. But they were still outnumbered and outclassed. The Romulan Warbirds were slowly and steadily beating on the Federation ship without mercy. If they hadn't been lucky enough to hit the first ship while it was still cloaked, the Republic would have been destroyed long ago. Of course, it still looked like that was going to be the eventual result. "Hard to starboard! Keep our port shields towards 'em!" Captain Spencer clung to his chair as he barked out the orders that he hoped would bring his crew back alive. On the viewscreen, the still undamaged Romulan was bearing down on them. It was headed straight towards their point of view. The bridge crew could look right up the ominous plasma ports as they glowed with the next shot preparing to smash into them. There would be no way to evade it. Suddenly, the wounded Romulan burst across the viewscreen blocking out the view of the other ship, the bird of prey painted across her bottom filled the frame showing that her underbelly was right in front of them. "FIRE!" Spencer yelled and Ensign Fitzgerald stabbed at the control that would send their phasers into the Romulan ship. With a sudden flash, the Warbird exploded in front of them. The Republic rocked with the impact of the explosion so close to them. More systems burst out with sparkling flares around the bridge. "Full Reverse." The captain's voice was starting to go horse. "Negative control at helm." Fitzgerald reported. Suddenly, through the cloud of their exploding comrades, the remaining Romulan appeared and the armed and ready plasma bolt leapt from a point blank range into the Republic. The explosion was the biggest and most fierce they had felt yet. Nearly every station on the bridge fizzled and sparked. For a moment, the entire ship went dark before emergency lights faded on. "Reinforce the shields." Spencer jumped out of his chair. "Shields are down, Captain." Marie kept trying to stab at her controls. Spencer looked over to Fitzgerald who was also frantically trying to get any reaction from his controls. "Witten!" He stabbed the com on the arm of his chair. "Witten we need power now!" "That's not going to happen, Captain." Witten's voice crackled from the com. "We're out of commission." Spencer turned back to the viewscreen as a Romulan face filled it menacingly. "Captain Spencer, weren't you aboard the Shapiro when I destroyed her too?" the Romulan Commander sneered. "Go to hell, T'varis." Spencer recognized the Commander immediately. "That's Commander T'varis and I think it's time for you to surrender." T'varis smiled smugly. "Fat chance of that happening." Spencer spat back. "And what is your alternative, Captain." T'varis calmly glanced at some readouts on his own bridge. "Do you want me to just destroy your ship and kill your crew? Really, Captain, is that any way for you to treat your people?" Spencer stared around the bridge in frustration. They had no weapons, no shields, and no power. Nearly every panel on the bridge smoldered or burned openly. The lights that remained glowing cast beams through the smoke that hung in the upper corners. What was left to fight with? Everyone on the bridge stared at him with trusting, but curious eyes. It was the Shapiro all over again, but this time there was no way to shoot off to safety. Funny, faced now with no other solution, Spencer finally realized what an accomplishment it was to save as many of the Shapiro crew as he did. But, even though he was finally able to forgive himself for the past, he now had to face the responsibility for bringing his current crew into this situation. This time there was no other escape. "We surrender." Spencer's voice was cold. "We'll stand down for your boarding party." His gaze fell from the screen, he wasn't able to look at any of the rest of his crew directly. He had failed them. Marie still sat at the navigation station. What would happen to her in a Romulan concentration camp? What would happen to any of them? But it was the only way to keep them alive. "Excellent, Captain." T'varis leaned forward menacingly, "I'm so looking forward to discussing the details of your secret weapon with you and your science personnel." The Romulan Commander turned towards off camera, "Prepare the landing party and lower shields!" His image disappeared and was replaced by the Warbird as it hovered right in front of the Republic. But behind the Romulan, filling the screen, was the Arwa vessel. It's colors flashing and rotating in an exciting display. It was obvious that T'varis was unaware of the approaching vessel. Suddenly the cloud ship was engulfing the Warbird and the Republic crew could see the Romulan's running lights flicker and die out; it's weapon ports went dark. Their engines, however, flared to life and with a sudden burst of over powered warp energy, and the Romulan ship burst off with a high-speed warp burst, out of the system and into deep space. "The stealthy ones have gone away." The Arwa voice returned to the speakers. "Where did you send them?" Spencer asked as a huge smile crept across his face. "Not
sure, we just made them go into deep space. And all of their other
stuff was shut down, so it'll probably take a long time for them to find
their way back." The innocent sounding voice of the Arwa was hard not to
laugh at. "Can we help you repair your ship?"
In
The Clear?
~~~Bridge - USS Republic~~~ The bridge rocked again, sparks went flying, bodies hit the floor. Dean cursed silently under his breath. There really wasn't anything he could do, this was a combat situation and he was a communications officer. All he could do was watch. "Return fire," the Captain barked. Dean watched the viewscreen as the phaser banks from the Republic lashed out and struck the lead Romulan warbird with full power. It didn't even seem to slow them down. "Damn," Dean muttered. The battle was not looking too good for the Republic. By all accounts they should have been dead and finished off by now. So much for statistics, Dean thought to himself. They were never right. He held onto his console as the Republic was smashed with another volley of fire from the Romulan ships. Dean watched the viewscreen intently, saw the Romulan ship bearing down on them, ready to open fire with her deadly forward batteries. The young Ensign turned away, he couldn't watch any longer. "So this is the end," he thought to himself. Really didn't make it that far. At the last second, he glanced up again to see the damaged warbird come between the Republic and the oncoming Romulan ship. Dean heard the Captain give the order to fire on the passing ship. The Republic let loose with a phaser barrage that destroyed the crippled warbird in a showering effect of fire and sparks. The close proximity of the Republic however, was not a good thing. The small energy shockwave let off by the warbird slammed into the Republic, and sent the crew flying again. Dean hit the ground, cutting his hand on a piece of broken shrapnel. He climbed back to his feet, and sat back down at his station. He saw the blinking light indicating that the Romulans were hailing them. Slowly, Dean contemplated, then pressed the button and oppened a channel. The face of the Romulan commander filled the screen. Captain Spencer recognized him, and the two exchanged sneers. Dean leaned back heavily in his chair, his mind went blank, he didn't want to look at the screen. The only words that penetrated his mind were "surrender" and "boarding party". No more, he leaned back and just waited for the end, his life as he knew it was over, he was sure of it. Suddenly something else flooded Deans mind, the voice of the Arwa. "The stealthy ones have gone away," the voice of the Arwa leader filled the speakers. Dean
didn't pay attention to the conversation the Captain had with the Arwa.
He was too busy looking at the viewscreen in amazement. Their was no trace
of the Romulan warbird anywhere. It was amazing. Doomed one minute and
in the clear the next, he was having a hard time grasping it, but as he
turned back to his station he just decided to be happy with the notion
that he was alive.
"Post
Mortem"
"Captain's log Stardate 7846.9, Repairs are still being made but the ship is once more underway. I've been informed that the damage, while serious during a battle alert, has been relatively easy to patch back up now that we're allowed the time to repair it. For the most part, it has been a rather simple matter of replacing components; one of the advantages to our new design and a hold full of replacement modules. The injury list, however, is a bit more extensive; seventy-two injuries total. Fortunately there were no fatalities. Considering the odds against us, I suppose we were lucky... The Arwa have been eager to help, unfortunately our continued interaction with them has revealed that they are relatively far below us in terms of the amount of technical and scientific knowledge they possess. This is a little hard to believe since the technology they do employ is beyond anything our scientists know about. However, I have still concluded that the prime directive forces us to restrict their access to our technology and have ordered any involvement with them to abide by it's restrictions. It will be interesting to see if they feel the same way about sharing their technology; or if we should accept any such technical knowledge based on our own prime directive. But as an alien contact, the Admiralty has considered our mission a success. Our relationship with the new civilization has progressed wonderfully. They are a peaceful and curious race with a lot of potential. Although they're not yet ready for Federation membership, I do believe the threat from the Romulans makes them an appropriate candidate as a protectorate. I have requested that Starfleet send an alien relations team and create a permanent presence here. And they've agreed. Meanwhile,
we're proceeding to Starbase 12 where we'll be exchanging some crewmembers
and finalizing some of our repairs. We should be receiving further
orders once we get there."
"Starting
Over"
"Take it easy now," Doctor Finnley cautiously advised. "No strenuous activity for the next six weeks." Tomoe nodded in acknowledgement, taking a few small shuffling steps. After a week of strict bed rest, she was at least recovered enough to walk back to her own quarters. The further restriction griped her inwardly, but at the moment, she certainly didn't feel up to running a marathon. Tomoe decided that someone really needed to investigate the safety of the between-deck firepoles. They had been added as a way for crew members to quickly get to their duty stations, but on only the second red alert of the Republic's voyage, in the mad dash to efficiently get to duty stations, Tomoe had been accidentally pushed down a firepole hole. The resultant fractured tailbone, bruised ribs and broken elbow had kept her half-stoned on pain meds, in bed and definitely out of the action for the rest of the mission. Staying
within arm's length of the wall, Tomoe made it back to her quarters with
a minimum of embarrassment. It was an immediate improvement to be back
in her familiar surroundings, with dim lighting and dark colors. She put
on a pot of hot green tea and curled up in her bed. After a nice long,
hopefully quiet night, she would be ready to rejoin her crewmates. Life
was too short to waste on feeling miserable.
"Surrender
or Die"
Captain Spencer strode determinedly through the halls of the ship. He had already been to the junior officer's quarters, mess hall, recreation and observation decks. And now he was heading toward the ship's gymnasium. He couldn't find Ensign Marie Larron anywhere. She hadn't appeared at his quarters the previous night like she had for the last couple of weeks and he had spent the night alone. He had spent the night before that alone as well, but he had attributed that to exhaustion following their battle. The Captain had approached his navigator on the bridge and tried to discretely ask her where she had been, but she had responded with a full voiced, "excuse me, sir, but with all due respect, sir, I'm busy." Something was obviously bothering her and he intended to find out what. Walking into the gym, Spencer glanced through the few crewmembers that were taking part in a variety of exercises. Marie Larron seemed to be taking out her aggression on a large punching bag in one corner. The Captain crisscrossed through the workout equipment until he was near enough for her to see him. "Marie?" he tried to draw her attention. "What?" she shouted breathlessly in between punches, not caring if any of the other crewmembers were listening in on her rudeness to their captain. "Any chance you'll let me know what's bothering you?" He tried to look natural; despite the uncomfortable way she kept punching the bag. "Yeah." Punch. "You bet." Punch. "But stay out of my reach or you might get hurt." Marie turned to glare at him, briefly interrupting her attack on the bag. "She doesn't even try to hide it," she said spitefully, panting heavily. "She walks into your quarters as if it were nothing! Everyone knows she's been after you for a while. And all she has to do is look at you with that big eyes of hers and you fall for her. And then -" Fiercely she turned her attention back to the punching bag, "Then you come in here, after two full days, and dare to ask what is bothering me!" "What?" Spencer was genuinely confused. "Who are you talking about?" he glanced around at some of the rest of the crew who were beginning to look their way. "Look, Marie, this isn't really the best place to talk. Why don't you come back to my place so we can work this out, huh?" He tried one of his charming smiles. "I can give you a back rub." Marie chuckled humorlessly. "You wish." Punch. "I should have told her right away to keep her green-skinned hands off you." She turned abruptly as if she had realized only now what he'd said earlier. "I'm not going back to your place!" She moved towards him threateningly. "And I don't care if this is a good place to talk or not. I don't want to talk. Go talk to your Yeoman, though I guess that's not what you do with her when the two of you are alone." Marie finally turned away from the punching bag and ripped the gloves off her hands. "Are you talking about Cadet Tarrah? You think that she and I... What makes you think... Tarrah???" Spencer was so stunned he was at a loss for words. "Marie, there is nothing going on between me and Cadet Tarrah. How many times do I have to explain to people that a yeoman isn't a concubine!" He chased after her as she crossed the gym. "Until people believe it," Marie shot back. "I for one don't. She's an Orion, for heaven's sake! No one can resist her. And I should have known. Stupid me. I've been betrayed once already. My own fault for letting it happen again." Having crossed to the empty fencing arena, she grabbed a foil and swung it menacingly. "Marie, there is nothing going on between my Yeoman and I. You're it. Just you. No one else." Spencer backed away from her whizzing blade. "I helped free Tarrah, and I was her sponsor at the academy. Of course she's going to look up to me. I'm like her big brother now. I'm a father figure, that's all." If she hadn't been so angry, Marie would have been genuinely amused. Nevertheless, she started laughing. "Her big brother! A father figure! I'm touched." She turned serious again and held her foil very still, advancing until its tip barely touched the underside Spencer's chin; behind him was the wall, he had nowhere to go and she savored that. "You've fallen from grace," she said in a sudden and unexpected moment of melancholy. "So stop giving me these ridiculous excuses." Behind him, David's hand explored the wall. He could feel the rack along the back of his thighs. If only he could. Then she cocked her head as an idea came to mind, and she raised the tip of her foil a little and with it David's chin. "Let's have another match. If I win, you tell that yeoman of yours that she's not allowed to touch you and not allowed to enter your quarters anymore. But that still doesn't mean that I'm forgiving you. On the other hand, if you win... maybe I'll give you another chance. But only if you tell her honestly that your handsome self is off-limits to anyone but me." Marie knew she wasn't making much sense, but she didn't care. She still didn't know whether to believe him or not, much as she wanted to. "Go get your foil before I hurt you." Then his hand came into contact with the handle of a foil and with a lightening movement, he had raised the blade to push off the point of Marie's sword. They stood together now with blades locked. "I'm ready when you are." He smiled. Letting out an angry shout Marie charged forward and attacked, not caring if she hurt him or not but intending to wipe the smile off his face. She pressed forward, driven by her rage, recklessly and ruthlessly slashing at David with more force than style. David felt a little guilty, even though neither one of them were wearing the regulation padding and face mask, he at least had his full uniform on, which gave him more protection than she had in her workout shorts and sleeveless t-shirt. Besides, her body already dripped with sweat and exhaustion from her previous workout. He had to be careful not to beat her without hurting her too badly. But the ferocity of her attacks soon made him reconsider, her entire style of fighting had changed from their last bout. Within minutes, she had taken the upper hand and was driving him back. Her attacks were coming faster than he could block them. Suddenly, his foot found the edge of the mat and he began to topple backwards. The surprise also made him loosen his grip on the foil, which Marie promptly knocked out of his hand. David looked up to see the anger that was still in her eyes and wasn't quite sure what she was going to do with the weapon that was still in her hand. So with a rapid flick of his ankles, he tangled his feet around hers and she also tumbled to the mat. Marie had lost control of herself and the situation. She didn't know any longer if this was a game or serious, but what she knew was that she was falling, falling downwards and backwards, as though in slow motion, hitting the mat beneath her with a painful thud, but immediately bouncing back, getting up on her knees - but David, facing her, had beat her to it. She threw herself forward and towards him, and they toppled over, Marie landing on top of him. "Surrender or die," she said through clenched teeth. It was one of her jokes, not to be taken seriously, but in her agitated state of mind she wasn't sure herself how she meant it. "Surrender or die?" David couldn't help but laugh as he looked up at her, holding her off just enough to be defensive. "Surrender or die? Isn't that just a little bit corny for a battle cry?" He looked into her eyes and smiled with genuine affection. "I don't care." She glowered at him, making an effort not to let her anger subside, which was proving difficult. She didn't know whether to believe him or not, or what to say to him at all, so she stared at him, breathing heavily, their bodies locked in a position that could be interpreted as that of two enemies or of two lovers. "I think I've won," she finally said. "I'd say we both won." He said as he pulled her closer into a kiss. After a moment of stunned immovability Marie disentangled herself. "Hey!" She was genuinely angry and quite unaware of the interested glances that were being turned their way. "It's not that easy. You men, you think you can reconcile everything by kissing or caressing or whatever! Just like my late husband. You're no different!" She drew away, an expression of hurt and disgust on her face, not realizing how unexpected her words might come to David. "Husband?!?!?" he shot up to a sitting position. "You never said anything about a husband!" "You never asked!" Marie retorted, glaring at him like a sulking child. "Wait a minute! Did you say 'late husband'? I..." David caught himself. "I'm sorry, I didn't... know." Spencer couldn't help but wonder if she was just using him to drown her sorrows. Rebound relationships were seldom a good thing. But he fought to keep from jumping to conclusions, so he focused on his genuine concern as he asked, "How long were you together?" Marie gave a short little laugh full of disdain. "Just a few months. He thought monogamy was some sort of twentieth-century game, and faithfulness wasn't part of his vocabulary." She looked at David, feeling mildly sorry for shocking him this way. "No need to apologize. Actually he's not dead yet, I just like to think of him that way. He's a bastard." "Wait a minute," David shook his head in confusion. "So he's not dead. Then you're divorced?" Marie looked away trying to decide how to answer. "You're still married!" David's voice cracked with the shock. "Mmh..." Marie nodded solemnly. "But don't worry, I'm not going back to him. He's out of my life. See -" She raised her hand. "No ring." "But you're still married." David was having a hard time putting all of the pieces together. "Is that why you were jumping to conclusions about me and Tarrah? Did you think that I was him?" "No!" Marie gave him an indignant look, but then her shoulders slumped. "Yes... I don't know. I don't want it to happen again, that's all. I guess... I'm afraid to trust you." "You were afraid to trust me? But you didn't tell me you were married?" David got up and put his foil back in the rack. "How am I supposed to trust you?" Marie sat on the mat, staring into nothingness. "I don't consider myself married," she said slowly, while deep down she was beginning to realize that she was losing David, and the pain - rather than anger - brought by this realization surprised her; she had gotten too attached. "I've been trying to divorce him but... he doesn't agree, and the bureaucracy is just too long-winded for someone like me who's always on assignment..." David dabbed at his chin with the back of his hand. There was a slight nick there that had finally produced a drop of blood. He wiped it off and stared at it. The situation had certainly changed drastically; a few minutes ago she was intent on killing him. Now he almost wished she had. "So was I supposed to be some kind of 'revenge' on him for his cheating?" His voice was low as he fought down his own pain and disappointment. As hard as it was, he had to know more. There had to be some part of her story he could use to forgive her... to justify what they had found together. "No!" Marie finally stood up to face him, somewhat shakily as she felt the fight taking its toll on her body. "How can you say that? I'd never even - I don't even talk to him, so how would he ever know? If I were to have my revenge on him it would mean that he is still of some importance to me, which he's not! And I didn't even plan on - on sleeping with you! May I remind you: I lost a bet. And it was the only bet in my life that I haven't regretted losing." She paused and looked at him, silently pleading with him because her proud nature didn't allow for any verbal supplication. "He's out of my life. He's not worth wasting a thought on, much less causing you of all people any trouble. Forget about him." "Believe me, him causing me any trouble is the last thing on my mind." He mumbled. Finally David looked her in the eye. He saw the raw emotion and silent pleading there and his anger faded, but the hurt was still there. Maybe she was only lying to him because she was lying to herself. But what did he have to rebuild his trust on. He glanced around at the curious crewmembers that milled about trying unsuccessfully to look disinterested. "I'll be in my quarters." Spencer snapped as he turned and shot out of the gym. Marie helplessly watched him go, unable to call out to him or even follow. She felt all strength being drained from her body. Her legs felt wobbly, and she simply let go, dropping to her knees on the mat and hanging her head. David was gone, and it was her own fault. Around her, created by the few remaining crewmembers in the gym, hovered a distinct air of awkwardly forced ignorance. And yet Marie knew that by tomorrow morning too many people would know all about the captain's curious non-connection with his navigator. She didn't cry. Unexpectedly, even incredibly, she felt as though a piece of her heart was being ripped from inside her, as though she was losing something she had never realized she had; but she didn't cry. Long ago Marie had promised herself never to cry for a man again. But then why were her eyes burning so painfully? Not
moving, Marie was beginning to feel very chilly in her drenched clothes,
so she forced herself to get up, get her towel, and begin the painful
journey back to her quarters.
"Meow"
Tarrah knew she was spending too much time in the shower. She just stood slumped forward on the cool tiles as the water flowed over her and the steam rose up around her comfortingly. Slowly, her muscles were beginning to unknot and she felt like her head was clearing. It seemed like her troubles were twirling down the drain with the water. After the battle and excitement, not to mention the rage of betrayal, she felt like she needed it. The lure of the warm shower was too difficult to abandon. Besides, she had read the reports and knew they were on their way to the starbase; there they could restock long before rationing became an issue. So, she chose to shower in the women's locker room off the main gym. That way she could have a real water shower instead of the sonic booth that several junior officers had to share. It was working too; she was starting to feel soothed and relaxed when she walked in, Marie Larron. The French woman strode in and activated a nozzle a few feet down from Tarrah. If there had been any doubt before, seeing her naked body now confirmed that she was the one in the painting. Suddenly, all the rage and frustration returned to Tarrah. She tried to turn away, but she couldn't resist glancing back at the bitch. Finally the urge was too much she crossed over to Larron, stepping right up to her, sharing the same stream of water, and just stared at her as she fought for what to say. Finally she found expression with a slap to the French whore's face. "Nice painting, huh?" she spat, "You'd have noticed if he had had it blown off, huh?" Tarrah was beginning to tremble with the rage that Orions had become known for. Stunned, Marie stared at the yeoman, feeling not so much the pain at being hit but a flare of sudden anger, increased by the fact that only a few minutes ago David had stormed out of the gym and out of her life. It took all her restraint to not return the slap. "Go bother someone else, little girl," she said with contempt, glad for the fact that the streaming water would hide any tears that might flow. "Keep your green hands off things that are none of your business!" "I think you need to keep your business out of his hands," Tarrah sneered, "Not that there's much of a handful anyway." She said gesturing towards Larron's chest. "You know what, now that I'm looking at you I can finally understand why they say 'green with envy'," Marie shot back contemptfully, letting her gaze deliberately travel down the girl's naked body and up again. "Get dressed before this gets embarrassing." She turned away, walking out from under the shower, and grabbed a towel, ignoring the fuming girl she was leaving behind. "Don't you walk away from me!" Tarrah grabbed the same towel that Marie had grabbed, spinning the French woman around so that she once again faced the Orion. Both women now held the opposite ends of the towel. "How dare you fuck the Captain, then throw it back in my face. You knew perfectly well that I wanted him. And you knew that I'd find that painting of you, didn't you? You're obviously a whore and a bitch!" It was no use trying to explain and Marie didn't feel like it, either. "I'm obviously all those things that you'd like to be," she hissed. "Of course, while I was posing for the painting, all I thought of was you and how it would disappoint you. And when I seduced David, it was only because I wanted to make you jealous - come on!" Marie laughed, full of derision, and not only at the ridiculous figure before her but also at the absurdity of the situation. "But you know what... go see if you can get him. He's just dumped me. Now's your chance, little girl." She forcefully ripped the towel from the Orion's grasp and wrapped it around her wet body. Tarrah snarled and raised her hand about to claw the arrogant bitch's eyes out when the rest of her words hit her. "Really? He dumped you?" Tarrah's voice rose about three octaves as it snapped into its cutesy mode. "I'm so sorry to hear that." If there was any sympathy in her squeaky voice, it was completely obliterated as she turned to a nearby mirror to check out her naked body. With satisfaction, she turned to follow Marie to her locker. "I bet you are," Marie muttered scornfully when she saw the Orion look herself over in the mirror. Her disdain was undiminished, but her will to fight wasn't. She felt so very tired. And David didn't like her anymore. "Go away." She turned suddenly and snarled at the yeoman. "Leave me alone! I don't need your gloating or your fake sympathy. Get out of my sight, you slimy little -" She broke off as a desperate idea came to mind. "Leave now. That is an order, cadet!" With her own Orion anger diminished, the pain and ferocity of Marie's anguish slapped Tarrah harder than any physical attack would have. She stood stunned as she heard the real feeling in the human woman's words. "I... uh, better... first..." Tarrah mumbled as she vaguely gestured towards her locker and her naked body. Quickly and silently she finished dressing and turned to the door. Several steps before she left, she stopped and turned back to face Marie. "I am sorry, Ma'am." She said respectfully. Then she turned and left. Not
looking at her Marie finished dressing, trying not to notice the angry
tears that were running down her cheeks and wishing that the pain inside
her chest would go away.
"Fireholes..."
******************************** "There, that should do it," Ben said, as he sunk the last bolt home. "Ensign, what's that?" asked a passing crewman. "What do you mean, ' what's that ' ? Can't you read, crewman?" "Well, ya, I just don't understand why you've put up a ' caution: falling hazard ' sign there." "Didn't you hear? The XO fell down one of the fireholes and fractured half her body!" "So you're putting signs up..." "Yeah, Witten's got us putting them up all over the place, you know, before Tomoe gets outta sick bay." "Ah, I get it. Well then, don't let me stop you...." |
