Mermaid

Posted on Wed Jan 1st, 2025 @ 1:43am by Captain Malcom Llwyedd & Lieutenant JG Zub Enel
Edited on on Wed Jan 1st, 2025 @ 2:24am

1,334 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Interlude 1 Gamma Quadrant
Location: DS 18 Promenade, Alien Sector

[ON]

At a couple of hours past midnight, cool air slipped cold fingers down his throat and civilian shirt collar as Lt JG Zub Enel, Security Investigations Officer, made a slow turn. He was looking for CWO B’Rala in the dim corridor between the shuttered storefronts in what was locally called the Alien Sector.

The loss of the wormhole had allowed some entrepreneurial types trapped in this Quadrant to set up makeshift businesses in DS18’s Promenade. He studied the narrow catwalks and bridges allowing access to a second tier of shops. Chief Warrant Officer B’Rala, a six-foot-tall, Klingon female, would be difficult not to see.

He wondered if what he took as B’Rala’s voice had been some innocent night noise escaping a sleeping alien’s throat.

From a nearby brightly lit open doorway, rhythmic popping pulsed up and down the musical scale, clearly danceable. He’d planned to meet a first date here at Club Papillion after her Sickbay shift. He turned toward the popping and took a step.

He stopped. He was sure he’d heard B’Rala’s anguished voice. He turned back around.

He tapped his com. “Last incoming com detail for Zub Enel.”

An androgynous voice replied, “Last com: Yesterday. 18:43:14. From Penelope Randall Civet. Duration 75 seconds.”

Zub Enel let his arm drop. Nine hours since any com was made. B’Rala hadn’t just called. Had he heard her voice?

Blue-green shimmered from far down the dimly lit corridor. Quickly it resolved into distinctly feminine hips swaying, bare shoulders tilting, the outline of a thigh brightening with each forward step and then vanishing into twinkling aquamarine folds of cloth. An oval face with large dark eyes came into focus. Penelope.

Zub Enel smiled appreciatively. Her outfit hugged her hips and thighs, flaring from mid-calf to the floor. Glimmering, lagoon-blue cloth swept up over her chest to loop around her neck. Her long dark hair was set into a braid that arced over her head backward from her forehead. Tiny sea blue lights twinkled in the braid.

She smiled brightly with glistening turquoise lipstick on lips perfectly shaped for kissing. Pearl-white teeth flashed as she said, "You sweet man! Coming to meet me. This area is so--" Her brown eyes grew bigger as she glanced around. Her smile faltered for a moment. "—so… unusual.”

Before Zub Enel could reply she pulled him down to her height with a hand around his neck. A warm palm cupped his right cheek as she planted a kiss on the other just long enough and just wet enough to curl his toes. She purred, “Just to get that out of the way.”

Zub Enel straightened blushing. Penny gazed up at him with sparkling eyes. She hooked out her right arm for him to take it. “Let's go dancing!”

Zub Enel stiffened. Penny looked, felt, and smelled absolutely delicious. Dancing with her until breakfast would be a perfect pleasure. Yet, he felt disquieted. He pictured B’Rala hurt somewhere calling for help unheeded, dying, because Zub Enel preferred a mermaid's company.

Penny’s delicately arched eyebrows drew together. Her pupils contracted. Her full lips disappeared into a straight line.

He flapped his long arms once, letting them thud against his sides. This first date with the beauteous Penelope was going sideways no thanks to him. He drew a breath. “Penny. Look. I need to check on Master-at-Arms B’Rala. I think she’s in trouble.”

“She?” Her offered arm redirected to put her hand on her shimmering aquamarine hip. Her deepening scowl hardened her face.

He winced. He fussed at his crested head with one hand, discovering his down was sticking out in every direction. “It’s hard to explain. I just feel she needs help.”

“You said you were off duty.”

“I am! It’s just that she was checking a possible disturbance, alone, and was going to check in with me. She hasn’t.”

Penny gave him a cold clinical once over. She carefully enunciated, “Call her.”

Zub Enel grinned. “Brilliant!”

Penny’s expression barely softened, the way morning light barely softened a cold, hard, marble goddess.

Zub Enel tapped his com. “Enel to Chief Warrant Officer B'Rala.”

Penny had taken a step toward the open door of the club. The music pulsed and vibrated. Her hips swayed in time with it. Zub was sure he’d lose her to a mob of doting males the moment she entered unescorted.

A deep female voice growled out of his com. “Enel.” He could hear the same music only much louder.

“Chief, are you in Club Papillion?”

B’Rala’s voice held a warning. “I do not want to be bothered right now, Lt. Enel.”

Zub stood with a puzzled frown.

Penny reached out and took his arm. “Come on, silly. Can’t you tell she’s got a man? Three’s a crowd, you know. Let’s just forget all about her.” She gave him a fetching smile.

Zub Enel smiled back. “Alright. Let’s.”

Just as they stepped through the door, there was a disturbance near one of the bars that ringed a huge dance floor thronged with what looked like people from every race. At the bar, someone large was struggling with thin air. Stools were being kicked over.

Zub gasped, “That’s B’Rala.”

Penny said over the music, “Looks like her date is going no better than mine.”

Zub glanced down at Penny’s porcelain doll face. She was giving him a narrowed-eyed look. Her arm was squeezing his hand hard against her ribs. He said, “I just have to… “

“You are off duty. Let that Klingon handle it.”

The kerfuffle had ended. CWO B’Rala was walking toward Enel with one arm outstretched like she was giving some sort of salute. Expression triumphant, she stopped in front of them. Her beefy hand was closed into a fist like she was gripping something. She glared up at Enel. “Tell this twerp to lose the cloak or you will start punching him. In fact, just go ahead and slug him now.”

Penny’s beautiful face registered confusion and alarm. She took a step back from the Klingon, her arm releasing Zub’s clawed hand.

The Klingon Master-at-Arms shook her hand. It moved like she was holding a considerable weight. She spat the words toward Zub Enel. “Punch. Him.”

Zub gauged where the middle of an invisible being might be, closed his three-fingered hand into a hard fist, and drew it back for a solid gut punch.

A Parada, crested head, ghastly pale, popped into view hanging from his collar gripped by the Klingon’s hand.

He said, his voice wispy in the way of his people, “No need for violence, tall sir. I submit.”

B’Rala said, “Take his cloaker” at the same moment Zub pulled it loose. She raised the hapless alien further off the floor and looked at him like he was a prize trophy fish. “Picker of pockets. Followed him in here.” Her green eyes swept over Penelope. “He’d gone for your purse, if you have one, or is this evening on Lieutenant Enel?”

Penny recovered enough to say, “I haven’t decided.”

Zub said to B’Rala, “Excellent work, Chief.”

Holding the pickpocket out like he was a stinking strip of rotting flesh, she said, “Give me his cloaker. Make a hole. I need to take out the trash.”

Penny stepped aside one way, Zub the other. The Klingon carried off her catch.

Zub assessed his date’s expression. She did not appear overjoyed. She looked like she might any moment just leave him there and head off into the club on her own. He ventured, “Voth are known throughout the galaxy as incredible dancers.”

Her far-away look melted into one of glittering eyes. “Prove it.” She offered her arm.

[OFF]
Lieutenant JG Zub Enel
Security Investigations Officer
USS Firebird NCC-88298

 

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