I stormed into my quarters with a haze of red clouding my vision. I couldn't take any physical stimuli in except for on a purely instinctual level—the doors, the table I navigated around, the couch, the bed, all of it registered subconsciously but none of it crossing my mind in any meaningful way. Usually I took in the design, the texture. I appreciated the decor and architecture around me. But now my vision blurred with fury.
Quark was at it again. The slimy bald little retch had invited me to be a dabo girl one too many times. Maybe he thought I had a nice figure. Maybe I was good at misdirection. It didn't matter though. It undermined all of my experiences as a starfleet officer. As an expert in Bajoran archaelogy, a historian, a scientist with years of expertise in the field. How dare he reduce me to my breasts and my silver tongue? I didn't care how much laudanum he wanted to pay me, acting like I'd leave my duties was ridiculous.
Perhaps I hadn't been forceful enough the first three times. Usually I laughed and pushed him off, while the irritation secretly simmered inside me. Today had marked his third unwanted business advance, and out of nowhere, I'd finally done it. I snapped. I gave Quark a sharp pop in the nose, knocking him to the ground before I stormed out of his bar.
I had no doubt Odo would come by and give me a sharp reprimand for my actions. I heard someone call security over the blood pumping in my ears, and since there was an altercation, there would no doubt be a report on it. But at the time I didn't care. In fact, I still had a hard time giving a damn.
I paced me room, curling and uncurling my fists in an effort not to break something fragile I kept on display. My grandmother's ashes were still on the side table in my room. Getting my hands on that could be dangerous. I paused in front of a mirror, and a wave of disgust washed over me as I caught sight of the way rage distorted my features. This was ridiculous. I needed to calm down. I was a human starfleet officer and yet I was acting like a Klingon, spiraling into a rage over something that wasn't really worth getting angry about. Maybe filing a report for harassment, but not getting angry.
I sat myself down on the side of my bed and I closed my eyes. As hard as it was to stay still with my heart beating like that I took a deep breath in, and then after a moment of rumination, let it out. Only a minute or two of deep breathing later, and I began to feel my Vulcan-like calm settle over me once more. I wasn't usually so... fiery. I liked to look for that in others, but never myself.
A tone sounded over the com and I glanced towards the living space. Someone was at the door. Odo. It must have been Odo. I brushed my uniform off with my hands and straightened out the fabric before I wandered into the living area. The tone sounded once more.
"Enter," I sighed, standing dejectedly in front of the door. The computer released it, then, and a Bajoran uniform stepped through into the room. But it wasn't Odo, like I had expected. The color drained from my face. No. It was Kira Nerys.
"Hi," she said with a warm smile. My cheeks only grew paler. "I uh, heard about what went down in Quark's."
I pursed my lips and looked down at my feet. My body was rigid as a pin. My arms shot down like needles and my legs too were unyieldingly straight.
"You were clean about it, at least," she said as she took a step closer. "Knocked him out right there, sure, but you didn't damage anything. Bashir was able to get him up in no time."
"Glad to hear it," I said throatily, almost through gritted teeth.
"Do you wanna... sit down?" she said softly, gesturing towards the seats in an effort to deescalate the situation. I puffed out a breath, cracked my neck, and after a moment, nodded. If I was going to talk to Major Kira... I was going to need to calm down. Blowing up in her face would be problematic, personally and for work.
