Stella, My Star

16

"Lights on!" I start moving through the empty room. There are two glasses on the table. I sniff the last drop. Whiskey. No lipstick marks. The bed is well made and wrinkle free. I work backwards, touching the keypad before the table. The bathroom door slides open. I peer inside. Nothing out of the ordinary. So clinical, so neat, with each turn of my head. The whiskey glasses are the only kind of evidence, and they tell me nothing.

I move to the table and touch a symbol on the wall. A compartment opens revealing the whiskey bottle and a few others of various sizes and colours. I select one, that has a distinctive Earth label, listen to the crack of the seal as I open it, and pour some of the contents into a heavy glass. I swig it. Port. I pour more. It is smooth and delicious to the palate. Better than the beer I was drinking earlier.

"Rosetta?"

Some photo frames catch my eye on the far side of the room, next to your bed. Glass in hand, I follow my curiosity. One photo represents you as a young boy, 6 or 7ish, holding a model space shuttle in a moment of child's play. A dinosaur figurine, in a scale worthy of Godzilla compared with the shuttle, is in your other hand. You have a growling look on your face. I catch my reflected smile in the glass, and replace the frame.

"Rosetta?"

"Yes, Lieutenant Wood?"

I currently stare into your eyes in the next frame, aged around sixteen and graduating, with your supportive parents by your side.

"Where is Captain Rafferty at the moment?"

"In his private dining room on level 2."

"The fancy one with the screens?"

"Yes, Lieutenant."

I dare not ask the next question.

I return to the table and top my glass up. A few mouthfuls, and it is gone. Top up.

"Thankyou Rosetta."

I sit on the expensive mattress on the bed. I lean back and turn my head, hoping to catch the scent of you on your pillow.

The third and final photo frame I look to on the shelf next to your bed is you in a bar with some other captains, Brock among them. You all have a drink in one hand, and your other arms are around each other, supportively. You are a little younger, with a wide happy grin, and looking casual in your civilian clothes. Still very handsome. Still commanding the attention and respect of others. Comfortable with other people. Warm and affectionate.

I half sit up, and finish my port. I hold the empty glass as I roll to watch that lava lamp bubbling its oil in the neon liquid. The alcohol overcomes me, and without realising, I drift off to sleep within minutes.

I wake to a touch. Some fingers are brushing hair off my face to behind my ear. I sit up immediately, in one of those confused moments, to register where I am and who's there.

"What are you doing here, Stella?"

You stand looking at me, a perplexed look on your face.

"I wanted to talk to you," I mumble, wiping my eye.

"Strange way to do it. You'll give me a reputation dropping around for a chat like this. Do you want some more of my irreplaceable, academy graduation port that you've opened?" You take the glass from my hand.

"Oh, really? Sorry. That's pretty inexcusable," I say sheepishly.

You pour yourself a glass, and sip it like a connoisseur.

"Not a bad drop." You stare at the glass, swirling the contents. "Mmm...that's good. Really good."

You pour more for the both of us, and sit on the edge of the bed.

"So, what are we talking about? I hope it's something interesting and arousing now we're enjoying my special port."

I realise my boots are on your clean bed cover, and I reposition myself to be sitting at the edge of the mattress, near to you.

"You just had dinner in the dining room? Who did you eat with?"

I watch your eye contact drop from my face to my hands.

"I shared a meal with Officer Gormer."

I look to the lava lamp and take a couple of deep breaths. I take a large mouthful of port.

"There's talk around the ship. You might want to be careful." I stand and put the empty glass on the table. I face the wall, my back to you. "Whether you are intimate with her or not, it doesn't seem right that you could be taking advantage of someone who's just gone through trauma. Just saying." There is a quick glance in your general direction, then I am walking to the door. You are watching me go.

"Door lock!" You demand loudly, just as I am expecting it to open. You stand and face me.

"Door open!" But your voice overrides mine in the room. I am penned in. I continue to face the sealed door. "Door open! OPEN the door, Captain!"

You start to pace slowly towards me.

"You honestly think I'd be that low as to be sleeping with Gormer? After everything she's gone through? You're going to believe some crew rumours over your own common sense?" You stand directly behind me now.

"I don't know what to believe anymore. The Redpunk?" I shrug.

"What about the Redpunk?"

"Show it to me. Now." I turn, look you directly in the eye, and hold out my hand.

"It's not here."

"It's NOT here because you don't have it. You lied to me. You gave me a gun that everyone knows you own, and I lost it. The favoured female lieutenant screwed up and lost it." My face is animated as I passionately state my case. You, on the other hand, remain calm.

"Oh, Stella. I lied to you, yes. I lied to you to stop you doing anything stupid. You were injured and you weren't thinking straight. What good would it have done to tell you the truth? I gave you the Redpunk because you were one of the best on the ground. Your aim is accurate, you are highly trained in combat situations..."

"And!? So?" I am stubbornly standing my ground.

"So? Dammit Stella. You don't make anything easy." You are shaking your head. "So? I genuinely care about you. You and your difficult, independent, rebellious personality. You drive me crazy. I lied because I didn't want to hurt you. Because I'd rather lose my weapon than lose you. The pain and frustration of losing a gun is nothing to losing a crew member. And certainly not you."

You back off from the face to face confrontation, leaving me standing there, and pour the last of the port. You sit on the bed.

"Officer Genevieve Gormer is the daughter of an old family friend. I didn't know until she met me here onboard. I just wanted to be civil. She's married to a guy who works in a tech lab on Concordia. The commscreen you found and stuffed in your pocket, was hers. Stored full of pictures and video messages from him. She was grateful to you for that."

"I'm sorry, Samuel. I didn't want to believe that something was happening. I just...wasn't sure."

You half laugh. "Door unlock."

What have I done?

"You're free to go Lieutenant Wood." You fall back on your bed.

"I'm sorry. Please forgive me." I stand like a disciplined child.

But the damage to your ego is done. Despite the technology and advancements of the present day, there is no possible way for Stella Wood to reverse time.