Stella, My Star

4

With the removal of the squealer patch from my neck, and a quick fingerprint analysis, I am into the quiet dining room. I have nothing much to do with my time on my first night on the ship. I resent not being utilised for duty immediately.

Two engineers, of notable rank, are sitting at a table against a wall and they carefully watch me as I saunter over to a table for one. I just keep staring menacingly until they look away, uncomfortably. I much prefer the company of androids; emotionless, genderless, upfront.

The engineers restart their conversation about some mundane thing to do with the mechanics of the defence shield. No peace until I create it, I figure. Rebelliously, I sit on the chair backwards, supporting myself with its back, facing the men. I pull out a lab-grown earth fruit and my Grillion blade from my belt and, still staring, I carve slices, piece by piece. My teeth crack the flesh and I munch loudly on the food. The engineers look toward me.

When I know I have their full attention, I lick the blade carefully, but seductively, then effortlessly throw it. Their faces immediately drain to white as the blade makes contact with the framed photo of Commander Lynch on the wall between them, smashing the glass, and pinning the picture right between his beady little eyes.

The men rise. "Whoops. Sorry about that," I casually respond. They pick up their trays and tip them into the chute near the door, hurrying out. Not a word. Some strange female, who seems to have no clear purpose yet.

No sooner have they left and I am retrieving the blade, when my commscreen glows and vibrates. A message from the onboard commcentre.

"Wood."

"Ah Lieutenant, Captain Rafferty would like to see you for dessert in his private dining room."

"Uh-huh. Off," I smirk. Figuring it might be better than a few interrupted slices of fruit and the bland sandwich I grab from a refrigerated compartment, I move out the door and past the preoccupied workers, some of whom notice my small defining neck tattoo this time, and actually salute me. Surely, you had recovered fully by now from the neutraliser sting, and taken a cold shower?

I arrive at the Captain's dining room, a room used for more formal occasions. The door automatically opens, the lighting is dimmed, and I see the screens that have been following my every move through the ship. You turn to face me in your seat.

"Nice to see you again, Lieutenant. Please sit opposite me." You motion towards another grand seat, the likes of which I have not seen outside the commander's rooms before. I sit and I wiggle my way into its comfort. I feel trapped by the luxury.

"Inviting, isn't it?" you remark, pouring me a drink into a finely-stemmed wine glass.

"Quite."

"You are off duty now, relax some more. Not going to slip into something more comfortable again, Wood? My wardrobe is all yours."

"I am quite comfortable now, thankyou, Sir." We drink. It is both a fine, and powerful, drop. Very tantalising. I drink again. You refill my glass.

"About the incident earlier..."

"Never mind Captain. I like someone to keep me on my toes."

"Likewise, Wood. However, I feel I need to speak with you about what happened. I can assure you I WAS being professional, and meant you no harm. It was a routine check any of my staff would do."

"Yes, Sir, I recognise that."

"Days, months pass sometimes, where our contact with female citizens is limited. My sense of humour can get me into trouble at times, to say the least. So, occasionally we need reminding of our manners."

"I feel you were polite given the circumstances of my arrival, Sir. I have felt no-one has been inappropriate since I boarded the ship. I should have considered that changing uniform in front of you was not the best move, but in my role, as an assassin and guard, I have had to forget trivial feminine concerns. I don't think of it as a turn-on to strip down in front of a man."

"Really?" You smile again, somewhat embarrassed. "Wow. If you don't mind me saying, you are an attractive woman, Lieutenant. You.. ah...should probably remember that now you are around the crew. No changing in front of them." You raise your eyebrows, trying to hold back a smile. I nod in compliance with your request.

Feeling deliciously warm now, and satisfied from the food earlier, I start to lose my inhibitions a little, and I find myself rubbing the glass to my cheek and my lips. I drink some more. I want to get to know my captain better. I plan our night's conversation, I need to know everything about you if we are to lead the ship in conquering the rebels.

I then notice from your slight movements that the neutraliser has made your body a little stiff and sore.

"Do you need a shoulder rub, Sir?"

You look somewhat confused. "After this afternoon?" You half laugh in surprise. "I thought I'd have to seduce you a little more first."

I smile. Yes, that sense of humour could land you in deep water. I move around to you. It is a little nervous, spontaneous moment for us both.

"It's just a shoulder rub, Captain. I imagine no-one else will offer you one." My hands start their massage.

"You do have a point there. Android fingers just aren't the same."

YOUR turn to melt into the chair. "Oh Lieutenant. That feels so-o-o good."