A Mission Post by Lieutenant Commander Jin Rha-Yaleii
Mission: Coil of Darkness
Location: Earth, London
Timeline: Current
Je fais reculer la mort à force de vivre de souffrir de me tromper de risquer de donner et de perdre.
(Anaïs Nin)
[London, Earth]
"Promise me you'll at least think about it, Jin?"
"One thousand three hundred twelve, three hundred thirteen, …what?"
"You know this is the fifth time you've counted my spots?"
"Well you keep throwing me off. Or distracting me every time. So I never get to finish. One thousand three hundred fourteen …"
Rafi sighed. "You haven't heard a word I said, have you? Besides, last time you managed to distract yourself as I recall."
"Twenty one … Think about. Promise. Big space buckets. One thousand three hundred twenty three. Two. Damn it. Where was I … time for new frontiers and career change for the sake of … what again?"
Despite himself, Rafi was impressed. She had actually been listening. Even if she had recounted his monologue backwards, which probably meant that less than rapt attention had been paid. Of course, counting a Trill's spots was likely a much more pressing matter than potentially life-altering decisions.
"… hundred forty six… hold still!"
"Gnh."
Warm, nimble and oh so skilled little hands slid upwards along his spots as the little Efrosian's head emerged from under the sheets, beginning with a disheveled mass of milky white hair. Currently sporting some bright magenta streaks, which summoned some wistful memories of a spring in Paris and a boat catching fire after … Rafi still wasn't sure what had happened, but it had somehow involved pancakes.
"Jin?"
"… seventy eight, nine ..."
"That tickles."
The only answer he got this time was a gentle bite to the fingers trying to interrupt the important counting process.
[Later. Somewhat.]
"So. Driving the big girls, you said?"
Rafi blinked and carefully removed the pan from the antique cooking stove, sliding the pancake onto a plate. "So you *were* listening."
"Lot of good it did me. I got distracted at five thousand … something again."
Much as she tried to add a little grumble to her voice, they'd known each other for far too long, and Rafi easily picked up on the merriment in her tone. He wasn't going to tease her about it, though. After all, he'd been only too happy to go along with the distraction part. Again.
"They're short on qualified pilots, Jin. People have either been promoted away, or … well. You know. And what's left in many cases is raw cadets and ensigns trying to fly the most sophisticated technology out there, on actual missions, with next to no experience."
"That's exaggerating it a bit, no?"
"Actually …" he turned around to offer her the plate before she decided to come over and commandeer it, and was struck by the picture of a silvery-haired elf perched on his kitchen table, clutching a cup of coffee. After all those years, she still managed to make his heart do that … that … ka-thunk. There was no other word for it.
As always, she had wrapped herself in one of his shirts, the sleeves pushed up to her elbows. Outlined by the milky fog outside the large glass windows overlooking the river her silhouette seemed to shimmer in the twilight, her warm golden skin tone taking on an almost unearthly glow. And when she caught him staring, that radiant smile started like sunrise over Manev Bay, all bright and warm and making you want to tell the world to go take a hike today because you had better things to do.
"D'skreja ikda'tokar t'am."
"Aldi'detik." He sighed and chuckled at the same time, letting her pull down his face for a soft kiss as quick little fingers pried away the plate.
"You were saying?"
Little Minx.
"I was saying that, if anything, Starfleet is understating the matter. My sources think it's because they don't consider it a big problem – yet- or are unaware how bad it is because they quite understandably have more pressing issues at the moment."
"Mmmh or perhaps they're just being practical and figure that the way to get experienced helmsmen is to put them *at* the helm."
"Perhaps." Rafi smiled and pressed another kiss on the fragrant white-pink strands before returning to his pan. At least she was actually talking about it, which told the Trill the subject wasn't being dismissed out of hand, no matter how reluctant she seemed. And she *was* qualified. How many fighter pilots could claim to have driven a Magellan-class starship through Dominion lines and lived to tell of it?
And maybe he had been exaggerating a little bit. Starfleet had a manpower problem across the board, not just in this one area. The fact remained that if a little pilot with a less than pristine file was ever going to have her pick of postings, it was now. If he'd sleep easier knowing she was no longer barreling full throttle at people trying to kill her every other damn month, or so it felt betimes, … that was just an added bonus.
"You know, I think I wouldn't mind an exploration ship. I had a listen to those early Enterprise-D stories you sent me, and it sounded like they had a grand old time out there."
"Mmmh new life and new civilizations and even the odd skirmish here and there." He was treading gently now, content to let her mull over the matter at her own pace. Of course she wasn't fooled for a second, evident by her low, melodious chuckle, but … he felt her draw closer, the heat emanating from her skin touching his bare back a second before her arms slid around his waist. "Just don't put another spook on my case, please? Not that he wasn't cute."
Rafi flipped over the pancake and laughed softly deep in his chest, enjoying the way she toyed with his hair while keeping an eye on the food "I'm sorry about that, love. But Jaravin's been a reliable source for years, and I didn't think he'd actually be so crazy and try to recruit you."
"I don't think he meant it." Jin sniffed the air happily, trying to decide which smelled more appetizing – Rafi or pancake. "He didn't strike me as that daft. Playful, but not daft. Is he even allowed to be your source?"
The Trill did a little double-take at the rapid change of subject – or maybe it was the slender fingers playfully tracing the scruff on his jaw, and the happy little purr emanating from behind him "If it's mutually beneficial? Sure. He tells me things, I tell him things. Reporters have their own ways of gathering information, and often people will tell us stuff they wouldn't … zis'agri! I almost burned the pancake!"
"Almost." With a quick twist of her hips the tiny Efrosian ducked under Rafi's arm and slid the food onto her plate. "We didn't use up all the maple syrup, did we?"
[A few days later]
Jin stretched lazily under the thick fur covers, blinking at the pale autumn sun struggling to disperse the early morning mist over the river. She wasn't sure she'd ever get used to this city with its strange vibes and seemingly perpetual rain. Not that the rain falling on the broad, lazy river wasn't pretty, or the sound of the ancient trees swaying in the breeze from the sea. But the spacious loft with its dark oak beams and giant windows wasn't the little apartment overlooking Montmartre, and there was none of the lightness that always seemed to permeate the air itself, none of the casual elegance or playful spirit.
With a sigh, the diminutive Efrosian slide her bare legs out of the bed and cast an amused glance at Cat snoring in front of the big fireplace. He at least seemed to find London a fine adventure, judging from the balloons and the giant piece of roast beef he had dragged home last night.
The scent of coffee and French toast tickled her nose – seemed like Rafi had decided to let her sleep in after those damn double and triple shifts doing naught but fly patrols around the Sol system in preparation for a big heap of trouble arriving in pretty ships.
Rihannsu. Complete with Chief Praetor and top brass.
It was just as well this kind of trouble was way above Jin's pay grade, though she idly wondered whether one particularly vexing ship would make an appearance.
Her bare feet moving soundlessly across the chilly floor, the little Efrosian snuggled deeply into the long flannel shirt that smelled delightfully of Trill and some light, woodsy soap.
Kitchen. Coffee.
Eschewing the replicated atrocities he didn't deign to call coffee, Rafi had left some fresh roasted beans in a small saucer, and Jin blinked for a moment at the scribbled instructions on how to operate the antique machine. At least the French toast looked as if it required no more skill than removing a small stasis field … she swatted idly at the vid screen over the counter and as expected the FNS news feed popped up obligingly. A group of politicians droned on about the summit, interrupted only by tidbits of a tribble predator on the loose in Malaysia and a mail strike on one of the aligned worlds.
Jin decided to not try her luck with the silvery concoction and instead dug around for the thing that let you grind the coffee beans manually, and the fancy little pot.
Rihannsu. On Earth. Jin sighed.
Rafi had been excited as only a news reporter on a mission to dig his teeth into a juicy story could be when he'd been assigned to cover the summit. Not that Jin was surprised he'd drawn the lot. Other than many people who only saw the cultivated Trill with fine manners and affable demeanor, she knew exactly how determined, even relentless Rafi could be in pursuit of an objective. Not to mention thorough, quick on the uptake and capable of adapting to changing mission parameters on the fly. Whether that mission involved uncovering conspiracies at the highest levels or handling a lively Efrosian.
There. Not quite as amazing as the brew Rafi made, but decidedly coffee. Sipping the hot liquid, Jin padded around the apartment collecting the strewn about pieces of her uniform, occasionally glancing at the screen where massive Warbirds sailed past Mars, the commentator stumbling over the ships' names.
By the time she had struggled into the heavy fabric and confirmed their schedule with the rest of the Fighting Chickens, the sun had climbed high enough to colour the sky a pretty shade of pale blue, dotted with only the occasional wispy clouds.
The deep rumble of all too familiar engines sounded above the tranquil river, drawing her attention to the formation of bombers descending over the city.
"You know I'm right Po. Haven't you had discussions about that very matter with the Praetor herself?"
"You know I can't talk about such-"
"I'm sorry gentlemen." Elan interrupted "but the Praetor is now arriving."
No kidding.
Standing by the large glass door leading out to the deck, Jin tracked the elegant shapes slowly tipping over their wings and gliding downwards like a flock of moonhawks returning to the nest, until they disappeared from view.
"Cat?"
"Mrrrr." One giant paw twitched sleepily, and the little pilot smiled.
"I take it you won't mind playing watchcat again? Or sleepcat. Rafi left you some of that Irish ale you like, and there's ham in your bowl. I should be back around-" she felt the shudder beneath her feet, the sudden overwhelming sense of a shockwave's pressure against the building's stone, even before the terrible rumble registered with her ears.
Rafi.
[to be continued...]
LtCmdr Jin Rha-Yaleii
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D'skreja ikda'tokar t'am – (I) missed you, too
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