Day in the Life
Posted on Sun May 11th, 2025 @ 7:25pm by Lieutenant Zane D'Sai
825 words; about a 4 minute read
Mission:
Sole Survivor
Location: Officer's Mess
"No," Zane said as he turned a corner, heading towards the Officers' Mess, for an early dinner before the start of his shift. He angled his head, taking in the slight form of the shuttle craft pilot who had been waiting for him outside his quarters. "Not going to happen," he continued. His green eyes sparked with warmth and humor and his posture was relaxed; long years in Operations had more than prepared him for the occasional ambush. Everyone had a pitch.
The pilot sighed, audibly, as she slanted a look up at him through her thick (artificial) lashes. "Are you sure," she asked. "I mean, you could be remembering the schedule wrong. Maybe, you could ... you know ... check?"
"No." Zane stopped and turned the full weight of his green eyes upon her. Her lashes were thick and long and he found himself wondering how she could hold them up. Did her eyelids get tired? Muscular? "Stellar Cartography is offline for actual maintenance tonight and honestly, your duties do not require access."
"That's not fair," she growled as she stepped back. "I've been ..."
"... influencing Petty Officer Grimes for weeks now," Zane said. "He's been reprimanded and reassigned to other tasks. And, the recurring maintenance tasks were flagged so yes, I noticed."
The pilot drew herself up, the whole 5'2" inches of her, and stared into the depths of his green eyes, debating her next move. If flirtation didn't work, maybe something honest-adjacent? "I've been studying," she said. "So, I took advantage of the down time. Is that wrong? I've been trying to learn more and getting a first-hand view really helps. Now," she dropped her eyes to his boots, which were clean and serviceable but not sparkling, "I can't take a shuttle out there which would be best. So, I'm hoping you'll help a girl out?"
"No," Zane said. "You've been arranging for the lab to be offline at night so that you could use the facilities ... or rather the individual you're trying to impress could. That's not going to happen again. I've informed your Chief so whatever happens next is between you and him. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get something to eat."
"We could have been friends," the pilot said softly, "and I'm a ..."
"Don't," Zane said, his expression turning chill and distant in an instant, "threaten me. And don't misuse ship's resources again or the next conversation you'll be having is with the First Officer. We clear on that?"
"Yes ... Sir," the pilot said quietly. "Understood." Her own expression had gone hard and cold and Zane thought, as he looked at her, that he was finally seeing beneath the persona. She walked away, her hips swaying in a slow, calculatingly seductive rhythm; she stopped at the next corner, one hand on the wall, and looked back, her head down, looking at where he was through half-closed eyes.
And he was gone.
"Idiot," the young pilot murmured. She walked away and turned her attention to the more pressing matter which was a new plan of attack.
Officer's Mess
It was early enough that the dinner rush hadn't happened as yet, so there were plenty of tables to choose from. Zane ordered a plate of sushi and found a seat near the view port. The ship moved through a hostile environment and they were entirely dependent upon technology. Truth was, most of the beings on this ship would be entirely dependent upon technology in the ocean as well. It was about seeing what was out there. Exploration. Pitting yourself against the challenges. Hadn't he started doing that the first time he walked out of the ocean, training himself to endure longer and longer among the air-breathers, so that he could rescue his people's artifacts.
Challenge. Just sitting here, he was living in a hostile environment and there were limitations. Sleeping in a tank rather than swimming in the ocean was ... unpleasant. But the benefits, well, they outweighed the negatives. There was just so much to see.
"This seat taken," an ensign, dressed in science blue, said as he gestured toward a seat. "I have this talent for picking the busiest times to seat."
Zane nodded and gestured toward the seat opposite him. "I'm Zane," he said. "I like it busy. Lot to see."
"Milo," the ensign said. "Like what? What do you see?"
"Body language," Zane said. "How people interact. It's ..."
"Fascinating," the ensign said dryly. "Half the students I knew at the Academy adopted that as their favorite word."
"I was going to say, educational," Zane answered. "Lot to learn seeing how beings interact." He grinned cheerfully. "Think there are ... whole sciences ... dedicated to such things."
"Touche," the ensign said with a laugh. "I'm more hard science that soft but, point well taken."
"So," Zane said as he settled in to eat, "tell me about hard sciences ..."
Lieutenant JG Zane D'Sai
Asst. Chief of Operations
USS Valkyrie
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