By Wren Elton
91215.2330
Hours After The Ghost’s Confession
-=The Afterthought Café; USS Serendipity=-
91215.2330
Hours After The Ghost’s Confession
-=The Afterthought Café; USS Serendipity=-
Wren couldn’t believe what she’d done. Looking back over her actions as she’d written that letter and slid it under his door it felt like it had to have been someone else, only it couldn’t be. It couldn’t be because if anyone else had been that stupid, if anyone else had dared to endanger him like this whatever their reasons, then she’d be locked away in the ship’s brig right now after killing or at least seriously assaulting them. That was no exaggeration, as she thought in disgust of that woman who’d done this horrible thing she knew she could never forgive her if it hurt him. She knew if she was ever going to live with herself she had to somehow make this better.
So here she found herself pacing in quick steps along the floor of her café; a habit she knew she’d picked up from Rada. The door was locked and the lights were down so no one could think she wanted company right now. There was only one way out of this Hell she’d made for herself and that was getting that letter back. She swore that door would not open until she’d come up with a way to do it but none was forthcoming.
This was why this normally calm and centred woman was at this moment overflowing with that particularly staining breed of frustration that meant nothing could go right. Even the length of the floor in the café felt wrong. One second it was too small as she felt she could barely concentrate having to turn around every third step. The next it was too large as she found herself doubling back before even approaching the wall because that’s just where the wall should have been if this place were properly designed. Of course the reality of the situation was that everything that was wrong was in her. Her breathing refused to settle on a single smooth rate. Her legs wanted to go somewhere but they didn’t know where so instead seemed to be pulling her in every direction at once. It was her brain which was the real problem though as it just refused to do anything useful at all.
The same sequence of thoughts repeated over and over in her mind. She had to somehow get into his quarters. In order to do that she had to get someone to let her in. No one was going to let her in if she didn’t tell them why and she doubted they’d believe any excuse. If she told them that she’d endangered his life and sanity like this then she was quite certain that they’d have her thrown off the ship. That would mean she’d really lost him.
What would have at other times been a smirk was instead now a short and quite unintentional sound; less than a sigh and worlds away from as satisfying. She felt her thoughts were starting to sound like his. His thought patterns were after all extremely contagious; they always had been. He’d had this ability; often amusing, occasionally heartbreaking and always endearing, of starting with the smallest things and working them in his mind by a perfectly reasonable process to the greatest disaster. Now here she was starting with a single pen and paper and watching as they wrote the story of the hollow and lonely ends of all their lives.
She cursed though that her thoughts were different for one very simple reason; his thoughts tended to come before the disaster was already unstoppably underway. For a life time she’d acted first; that had always been her problem and for this night she hated herself for it. When you were young and it was fun you loved it about yourself. When you got a little older and it was rebellious you respected it about who you are. When you took a few blows because of it and started to find the wisdom to notice the consequences you started to accept it as just part of who you were. When nights like this came you vowed you were going to change it. Again she cursed herself that she never did change it; this may have been the worst but it was far from the first such night.
It’s a horrible thing for any mother to say but she’d sworn she was going to never do anything this stupid again when she learnt she was pregnant with Tam. Of course she absolutely loved Tam no matter what, it was his father that she hated. He’d left her with nothing out of the interests of more logical pursuits. Worse than that, he’d taken from her the best thing that had ever happened to her in a life to then otherwise bereft of any true meaning. So quickly she up and left Rada; her very next stupid decision.
Still, with ironic disgust she considered that she always knew best. Rada would have wanted to stay with her and so she left to let him, no to force him to stay in Starfleet. She pushed him away because she knew better than to let him love her as he wanted. Then when finally seven years later he found her again she pushed him away on the grounds that Starfleet was where he had to be.
Why the Hell she’d done that she genuinely didn’t know anymore. She had no idea what exactly she felt was better for him being part of this organisation made for war that flew innocent young men and their loving families into the jaws of some impossible enemy that a living breathing being had to be sacrificed to every single time so that the rest of them could survive it. They could have had a nice home. They could have had a comfortable life. They could have lived upside down in a shack on Jupiter’s ice moon Europa and they’d have been happy because it was their ice moon. Yet she couldn’t let that be.
It wasn’t like he’d gotten anything out of Starfleet. No, that was wrong. Starfleet had given him plenty. It’d given him friends, opportunities and a sense of purpose. It was her he’d never gotten anything out of. Everything she’d ever given him was gone, stripped away by a violent assault to his peaceful soul he never would have suffered through without her and leaving in its place nothing more than a bleeding empty wound.
She felt like she was going crazy. Her situation couldn’t be this bad. All she had to do was to get rid of a single envelope. Eight years ago she’d once gotten rid of a troublesome workman near her property with just a couple of well chosen words and a suggestive glance to his foreman. She had skills. She used to do this type of thing all the time and back then she never needed a plan. She’d just walk in to a room and let her senses and her instincts lead the way.
As she remembered that woman she’d once been she suddenly knew what she had to do. She stopped her pacing and instead moved quickly to see her reflection in the shining glass of an old photograph fixed on the wall. She could hardly see herself in it, it was certainly a forgiving medium, and she knew that was what her confidence needed now. She already knew that she was a mess anyway.
With a few quick motions of her hands she tried to force her hair to sit down right. Again and again she tried but it still wasn’t working. It was hard but it was a trivially simple matter compared to when she next tried to force on a smile. It was a weak smile but would still be convincing as long as they’d avoid looking in her eyes. Finally her hair was at least something close to her satisfaction.
Soon she was on her way to the nearest turbolift she could find. She’d need a security officer and so she momentarily considered going deck six but quickly she realised the type of security officer she’d need would be on deck eight. Moments later she’d stepped into the Illusions Lounge.
The first thing she did was to order herself a bourbon then downed it quickly to stop it from drawing attention to the shaking of her hand. Trick London didn’t miss her state of mind, his senses far too well tuned, but the look she gave him said enough that he’d let her have a little time alone if that’s what she felt she needed. A little time was all she needed as as soon as surveying the rest of the lounge she very quickly knew just who she’d ask to help her.
By his uniform he was a security officer and by the unmistakably dishevelled state he’d allowed it to get into it was evident that he wasn’t the type of man who thought the job was just a uniform. It wasn’t that he wasn’t a proud man; he had a most definite confidence in the slightly slurred way he was shouting at the woman who’d just left him alone at his table by the wall. It wasn’t an angry shouting but rather the kind of a man trying to make a case when he didn’t have one. He was after all disappointed, having had what he would call high hopes for this particular evening and that particular young lady.
After taking a single long breath to collect herself Wren was soon walking towards him. She kept her steps intentionally slow but deliberate as if she knew exactly what she wanted but it would be in her own time that she got it. The security officer pretended not to have noticed her just yet though he was clearly looking out of the corner of his eye over her.
It would have been pretty hard for him to continue to pretend not to notice her as she took the chair directly across from him. Evidently he’d chosen not to even try as he nodded coolly to her with just a hint of confusion.
“Hi.” She said shyly, sounding ever so innocent as she didn’t quite make eye contact.
“Hello.” He said firmly, clearing his throat. “Why…I mean, what brings you to my humble table?”
It was clear he’d been attempting to be clever and so politely Wren giggled. This was evidently what he considered to be a satisfying reaction.
“Actually I was wondering if you could do something for me.”
“Well, that…” he began, before correcting himself as he considered the possibilities. “absolutely anything.”
“Aren’t you sweet?” Wren asked with a smile that betrayed just how much she’d hoped never to be in a situation anything like this again.
Evidently the man once again approved of her reaction as his drunken eye started to wander slightly.
“You see,” Wren explained. “I not too long ago broke up with my boyfriend.”
“Mhmm.” He answered, attempting to be both coolly dispassionate and interested.
“And I left some things in his quarters.”
“Mmm...”
“So, I was just hoping you could let me in to get them while he’s off ship? You could be outside the entire time.”
She felt it was going well until he had the unfortunate sense to internally ask himself a question. *Why’d she come to me for this?*
Wren’s face fell slightly but she quickly corrected it.
“I don’t know.” He said carefully eyeing here. “I’d better check…”
Quickly Wren took his hand firmly but gently in a way to tell him his help would greatly be appreciated.
“You have to understand that he has friends high up in security who’d tell him I was there even though I’m really trying to put him behind me.” She suggested in a slightly firmer tone. “It’s just better for everyone if this stays off the record.”
Unbelievably he seemed almost satisfied with her answer though she imagined that had something to do with what he understood to have been meant by the word ‘everyone’.
“I can understand that.” He agreed. “Who is this jerk anyway?”
“Rada Dengar.” She answered, almost getting angry for how this man was talking about Rada even if he hadn’t known who he was.
“The Chief Engineer?” The man asked with shock. “Now you have to understand, that’s different…”
“I understand.” She said, slumping her shoulders and preparing to get up. “It’s alright if you’re frightened…”
“No!” He objected gesturing for her to stay, before more calmly correcting himself. “I mean; no. I just meant that overriding the codes may be different.”
Wren knew she was lying but she simply smiled and let him believe his deception as if he was just too smart for little old her.
“Okay, so can we get going?” She asked, trying to move things along before he thought anymore than he had.
“Woah, what’s your rush?” he objected, panicking that she actually was just looking to get into her ex-boyfriend’s quarters. “Stay, have a few drinks…have…”
His eyes seemed to finish his sentence for him and Wren felt a puddle of disgust beginning, dripping slowly down her body. It was made even worse by the way he’d started rubbing his thumb along the skin of her hand. She gave the slightest shudder and without even thinking she yanked her hand away; something he evidently didn’t care for by his expression.
“Please,” She asked politely but certainly more firmly as she felt like she was failing. “Can’t you just help me now?”
“Of course, I can.” He said, his eyes falling insistently on her and leaning in closer as if her gestures weren’t quite enough to discourage him. “As long as you agree to come back to my place afterwards to finish that drink we’ll be missing out on….”
Suddenly Wren felt very dirty and she quickly stood up from the table.
“You know what, forget it.” she insisted quickly; this was no longer the way she could do things.
The man didn’t even blink, just stared in confusion as he watched this odd woman walking quickly out of Illusions.
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Wren Elton
Manager, Afterthought Café
USS Serendipity NCC-2012
Wren Elton
Manager, Afterthought Café
USS Serendipity NCC-2012