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Post by Captain Dusk Rose on Jul 28, 2010 19:38:25 GMT -5
Nao'po watched him silently, but with patient interest. To go through the kal-if-fee...and for her..
The hologram 'spawned', and attacked almost immediately with near blinding speed. Suddenly, Vreenak was hard-pressed, and his almost cool demeanor faded; he was only barely able to block the rapid strikes. First one at his left side, then one at his right; he had no time to attack. Again and again; he was being forced backwards. The Romulan's 'Vulcan' mask began to slip. There; a tear, slicing across the shoulder. Vreenak's eyes narrowed in pain, but he did not hiss, instead he lunged.
It took the hologram in the throat, a lucky strike.
Without waiting, he had Holo-Vulcan VIII spawn. This time, he was taken sharply below the ribs, with the blunter end; there was a crack, and a gasp from the Romulan. A second strike slashed at his already damaged shoulder, almost cleaving it from his body had he not blocked in time. Green blood ran down him freely, and his arm dangled, not quite useless, but painful to use. Thrown back, he landed with a heavy thud, his stave just shy of his grip. The Holo-Vulcan closed in. With a feral roar, Vreenak gave into his baser nature, and the mask fell away.
Rolling sharply onto his injured arm, the pain surely blinding, he took no heed, and snatched up the stave. Then he lunged, and was blocked; the crescent end jabbed, then the blunt end swung. He battered back and forth with Holo-Vulcan VIII, his eyes completely driven by rage and the will to survive. Then, the hologram's upright-crescent tip clipped his cheek, and he stepped in almost as soon as it left his sliced flesh. His own stave smashed into the Holo-Vulcan's ribs, in the instant when his guard was down.
"Nine!" Vreenak roared, and charged the Hologram before Nao'po could even think to call an end to the match.
In a berserk frenzy that most mortal men could not attain, he swung his staff two-handed over his head, again and again, driving the hologram back. Battering with sheer adrenaline-driven rage, he fought, heedless of his own safety, heedless of his defense. The cool weapon-master was gone, replaced by a base savagery, so raw that he might have been a Vulcan in Pon Farr. The Hologram was hard-pressed to react, and fell before the onslaught.
"TEN!"
He threw the staff at the hologram, and charged at it; the Holo-Vulcan knocked away the staff, but was unable to prevent Vreenak from reaching him. The two wrestled for the hologram's staff, and struggled for control. Eventually, it was thrown to the ground and fists, feet and knees were involved. Vreenak took a staggering, though glancing, blow to the temple, and stumbled backwards, and the Holo-Vulcan leapt...
Vreenak fell heavily onto the ground, and the hologram overshot him, and went headlong into the sands. As the hologram recovered, Vreenak, eyes filled with fury, and contempt, easily and savagely picked up the staff. The Holo-Vulcan roared and charged - the Romulan pulled back, took aim, and threw.
The staff was dead on, but the Holo-Vulcan dodged. It just missed the hologram's heart, but it took off a chunk of flesh. Vreenak roared back and charged, and the two became locked in a stranglehold, both bleeding profusely.
The Romulan ended it, and though weakened, and about to asphyxiate, used his guile. A heel sweep, and the Holo-Vulcan tripped, and the Romulan threw himself on top of him, elbows and knees smashing in, breaking ribs and winding the hologram. Then the stranglehold was back, this time with the thighs, and with a sharp snap, he broke the hologram's neck.
He let out a feral war cry, victorious and half dead.
His arm dangled limply.
Nao'po approached him slowly and knelt before him. She pulled her sleeve into her palm and used it to wipe the sweat from over his eyes and forehead gently.
His green blood continued to drip onto the holodeck's simulated sands, and he was covered in grime, blood and sweat, and still sweating profusely. He stood there, proud and triumphant, a victor. He could have been Vulcan himself, or any one of their 'gods'. Then his strong, bruised fingers reached down, his good hand still functioning, and firmly, though tenderly, took hold of Nao'po's jaw. His mouth reached for hers.
At that moment, he might have been a Vulcan at his most primal. None of the Romulan facade was there; the cool arrogance, the sophistication - it was all gone. His eyes were hungry with lust, and his body, though aching, bruised, torn and hurting, was driven by a stronger desire - a baser urge. His attraction warmed from him in heated waves. He would make her his mate, or she would have to kill him to prevent it.
Any self control he had left was gone.
Nao'po kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck, gently, but firmly. His fingertips, his lips, everywhere he touched was setting her skin on fire. Something was stirring with in her, animal instincts long forgotten since the Time of the Awakening. Yet, this was not logical, it was not yet her time.
His mouth met hers, his breath, hot, lusty and moist, and the pain was no longer an issue. He continued to bleed over her uniform, and his raw magnetism emanated as he pressed closer still. His one good arm pulled her close, and his mouth lovingly met her ear, delighting in them despite his bestial urges. His lips ran up and down the arch of her neck, plastering her smooth skin with kisses. Her groans would only inflame him, and his passion blinded him to all reason. More than anything else, he desired her. No one was more beautiful, worthy, or wonderful in that moment.
With all he was, he made her his - or had he made himself hers?
"Vreenak..." She breathed, relishing his touch, but this would have to wait.
"I am sorry." She kissed him before performing the Vulcan Nerve pinch on his neck. Following through with her Pon Farr with him near the brink of death would be highly illogical.
It was just as well; his ribs were broken. He was wheezing blood.
...Not to mention his other wounds.
His eyes rolled up in his head, and he collapsed.
((Posted with C - the Casanova of the ST RP))
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Post by Captain Dusk Rose on Aug 3, 2010 2:46:06 GMT -5
Nao'po carefully scooped up the limp form that was Vreenak.
"Computer save and end program." The sprawling waves of Vulcan vanished for the stark lines of the holodeck.
Not a crew member that passed Nao'po in the hall failed to stop and stare as she carried the bloody Romulan to sickbay. She found it illogical to pause in ones work to stare in such a manner.
At last she entered sickbay and lay him upon the table gently. Alexander gave her an incredulous stare.
"Security to sickbay!"
"Belay that, it's alright."
"Didn't he attack you?"
"No."
"Well?"
"He is in need of medical attention."
"Obviously! Haven't seen wounds like this since the academy!"
"Can you help him?"
"I'll do my best," She was already scanning him with a medical tricorder.
"Romulan physiology is different enough from that of Vulcans' that it's going to be difficult."
"I am willing to provide blood for a transfusion should that become neccessary."
"Well thank you, but I don't even know if it's compatible yet!"
Nao'po glanced down at the wounded Romulan with an unreadable expression and Alexander raised her eyebrows, doing her best to at least seal his wounds.
---
=/\=Captain,=/\= Chief Medical Officer Alexander D'eon's voice chimed from the Captain's chair communicator.
"Yes, what is it?"
=/\=It's one of the Romulans Captain, I'm not sure if he's going to make it.=/\=
"What?! What happened to him?" Damnit of all the times! Captain Pennington pinched the leg of her uniform in frustration. There was barely even twenty minutes until the rendezvous.
=/\=That's what I'd like to know myself sir, but he's in pretty bad shape and Lieutenant Nao'po here refuses to share the details.=/\=
"Nao'po? That's rather unusual. I'm on my way, Pennington out."
She stood and clicked her medical kit to her belt as she walked toward the door.
"Verity you have the conn."
"Aye, Captain."
---
"Fifteen minutes until we reach the designated coordinates for rendezvous Commander." Centurion D'Nal reported.
Commander Ro'Wena Dar sat stiffly, the Tal Shiar
agent still stood uncomfortably close behind her, and she could feel the tenseness amidst her crew increasing exponentially every second that that woman stood on her bridge. The sooner she's gone the better. became the chant repeating in her head.
Tal Shiar official Isha Jo'rek slid a little closer to the Commander's chair with a pompous smile stretched across her face. Soon she would finally have that woman banished from the precious Empire. Just the thought of her was enough to twist her smirk into a scowl, that woman didn't even deserve to call herself Romulan.
---
Pennington sighed at the sight of the injured Romulan and gave Nao'po a look that said very clearly that they would have words later.
She took out a hypo and quickly tossed together several medicines in custom doses before injecting him with them.
"Captain, what are you...?" Alexander looked confused and a little annoyed that the Captain and waltzed in and taken over her duties.
"Relax, I was a Medical officer in my time as well if you remember."
"Yes, but...we don't know enough about Romulans for-"
"It'll work."
Alexander crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows, not arguing but looking very displeased.
She scanned him again with her own medical tricorder.
"He seems to be stabilizing, you did a nice job patching him up. At worst we can ask for a transfusion from one of the other Romulans on board, he's lucky he has his crew with him."
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Post by Ciel Phantomhive on Aug 3, 2010 11:31:03 GMT -5
Having noted the time, Gunning pried herself away from Khev and quickly redressed. With a slightly whined apology, she kissed her romulan and hurried back to the bridge.
Well, it would have been considered hurrying had she not been stumbling oddly, chanting "Oww oww oww" the whole way. It got even worse when she returned to her chair.
Glaring evilly at the redshirts that dared to look at her oddly, she managed, after much difficulty, to ease herself into her chair and resume her post, thanking the stars that Pennington wasn't there to point accusingly and blame the pain on her own stupidity. It was only a matter of time though, and Gunning was more than happy to accept her fate. It had been too fun not to.
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Post by Lord Redcoat on Aug 3, 2010 18:10:17 GMT -5
Vreenak's first sensation of one of darkness, and something flat beneath him. The bloodloss and neck-pinch had done more than he would have cared to admit; he felt floaty, as if someone had given him too much to drink...
With sheer force of will, and short-term amnesia, as he could not recall anything beyond Nao'po's lips near his, he opened his eyes - and stared up at Pennington. Outwardly, he displayed no emotion; the only sign of what he felt was his eyes going cold. How did he get here? Why was he here? He could not move. But his eyes bored into her. Oh, how they bored. He might be trapped, pinned down and caged, but he was defiant, in that silent, Romulan way.
Weakness before a foe was not allowed.
Pennington smirked and gave him a hypo of stimulant. Romulans, all the same. The thought triggered a smile to counter his cold gaze.
Nao'po was standing silently beside her, watching him with dark eyes. Her hair was down around her shoulders now, giving the impression of gentleness to her otherwise expressionless face.
Alexander was busying herself with another patient, a security officer with an injury from the holodeck, and taking pains to ignore the entire situation.
Suppressing an intake of breath, Vreenak felt a sudden surge as his depleted energy stores skyrocketed. With immense effort, he wrenched his gaze over to Nao'po, and wonder of all wonders, his eyes smiled. Those dark, dark eyes held triumph, the bloodlust of victory, but also... a quiet pride, and strangest of all, warmth. And not just warmth, but a silent, admiring affection, and respect. Pennington and the others no longer existed; only his vulcan did. His vulcan. She was beautiful; even more so now than before.
What exactly had happened here?
There was a metalic crash as Alexander D'eon began roughly putting away her tools. Nurse Church gave her an incredulous look, her own duties now being taken over by the Chief Medical Officer, yet something about the expression on her face made her keep silent. Another crash and another box was put away...at the loss of two hypos and a tricorder.
"What so Romulan medicine is a new course in the academy now?" D'eon muttered.
"Oh no, just...experience." Pennington shrugged, bending to pick up the destroyed hypo but stopping at a glare from D'eon that would have made anyone else shrink back in fear.
Nao'po reached out and took his hand, her own covered in his blood. Her eyes were locked on his now. She leaned over him, paused midway, torn between what was logical, and what some untamed force inside of her was urging her to.
His eyes willed her to draw nearer; so intense, so focused - more than any battle trance. He willed her close. Everything about his gaze pulled her in. Could his vulcan resist?
Pennington sighed and finished picking up the pieces of what was left of a neurocortical monitor that had faced D'eon's wrath, when she turned to dispose of it...and witnessed Lieutenant Nao'po bent over the medical table kissing the Romulan munitians officer.
"Lovely."
His hand reached up, not to slap her, but rather he seized her cheek. Eyes still intently focused, he breathed through her kiss, "My mind - to - your - mind. Your - heart - to my - heart. Our - lips - as one."
If he was not psychic, he was doing a damn good job of it.
Nurse Church hugged a dataPAD to her chest and stared at them with wide eyes. She wiped away a tear, how romantic.
Visions of what Vreenak felt in his still beating heart, inflamed with passion, fired by lust, driven by desire, and yearning with longing, and marvelling at her beauty burst into Nao'po's head. She saw herself through his eyes - more divine than any queen; more perfect than any Borg goddess that a mortal could fathom. She was... all he ever wished for, dreamt of, and none matched up to her.
"Alright, alright, time to find him a room that's not sickbay." Alexander smacked Nao'po upside the head and continued her...remodeling of Sickbay.
"I...have to get back to the bridge. I trust you can take it from here Doctor? Don't go injuring your patients now." Pennington slipped from Sickbay. What was she going to do with her crew, what was in the air...whatever it was, it stank...it stank of Q.
"But she's hurt!" Vreenak spoke aloud for the first time, and there was more icy rage in his voice as it forced upon all present than any Klingon. "How dare you strike her!"
The Romulan almost succeeded in forcing himself up off the bed, but Nao'po was still leaning on him - and her weight was too much for him to budge along with his own weakness. That didn't stop him from trying, and there was indignant outrage mixed with righteous fury. Rawr!
"She's hurt huh?" Alexander just raised and eyebrow and slipped on a fresh pair of gloves.
Nao'po gently put a finger to his lips.
"Not now my love, I will be alright, you must rest." She spoke softly, gently for a Vulcan.
Vreenak seemed on the edge of protest, but something about her touch calmed him. Perhaps it was the 'link' they shared; the bond that was forming... or perhaps it was simply the gentle touch of a woman. Even though he had not grasped that Nao'po wore his blood, rather than from any wound of her own, he listened. Amazingly, the storm within the Romulan stilled.
Pennington hurried to the bridge, but crossed it and went straight to her ready room.
"Damnit Q, what the hell have you done to my crew? Let alone the ROMULANS?!"
"You called?" In the ready room, Q appeared, one leg hooked over the other's knee as he lounged on her desk. "Something I can do for you, mon capitan?" He smiled, "So good to see you again, and so soon, Penny-darling. You don't mind if I call you that, do you?"
He wore his most winning smile.
Pennington closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her initial instinct was to demand why he was there, yet she had summoned him.
"Tell me...Q...why is it that my crew are on some kind of romantic mission to sleep with every Romulan with in arm's reach, not to mention the Romulans' behavior...these are NOT Romulans Q, what have you done to them?"
"Why, hello Q, how wonderful to see you again Q; I've missed you so much, Q. Thank you for putting my precious ship and all her crew out of danger, Q. How are you, Q? Would you like a cup of tea, Q? Or some scones and cake? Maybe a biscuit?
"Why yes, Penny-darling, I would. How kind of you to offer. And how are you, my dear captain? How're you keeping? How's the ship? How's the crew; no wait, don't tell me, everything's just dandy."
Q fixed her a long look, "Some unwelcoming you are. Do you have any idea just how many clergy would be overjoyed by an answer from a supreme being? Or how much a visitation would mean?" He sniffed, and brushed imaginary dust off his Admiral's uniform. Clearly, he had promoted himself.
"...And what a way to talk to a superior officer," he muttered under his breath.
(He even had an 18C hat bicorn to go with it).
She crossed her arms and met him with a smirk, then walked over to the replicator.
"Tea, earl grey, hot..." She waited for it to calculate. "with a dash of cyanide..."
Q flicked his fingers, and a perfect china set, complete with tray appeared beside him, in two wonderful antique teacups. "Earl Grey, you say?" He sipped his, then shook his head, "I've always been partial Chamomile myself."
"Why indeed. So the Romulans?" She sat down with her own feet upon the desk, glancing at the clock.
The second teacup appeared in Pennington's hand, "Without cyanide," he commented calmly, "And if you're going to be this impolite, I don't think I'll tell you." He huffed, all offended - apparently.
"Impolite? Me? Well then, how have you been Admiral? How are things with you and Jean-luc? I do hope you're over your little domestic spat?"
"Well," Q sniffed, "Jean-Luc and I... well, he said he had 'no regrets', but he loves me really, though he insists we're 'still friends'. 'Nothing's changed', he says. I could show you, if you like; perhaps have a woman's perspective. Though what woman could understand Jean-Luc is beyond me.
"Since you asked."
"Er...perhaps not right now. But if you ever need anyone to talk to you know where to find me...you are omnipotent and whatnot."
"Well," Q brightened, wiping away an imaginary tear, and leaned in confidingly, "he did tell me this while we were in his bed together."
He drew back, "Do you think there's hope for us?"
Pennington punched her chest to recover from choking on her tea. She coughed a couple of times.
"Well...that is a start. I'm sure you'll...win him over eventually?"
"Well, afterwards, we played dress up together. It was such fun," A wistful sigh, "I played the evil sheriff of Nottingham, and he played the hero Robin Hood. It was wonderful!"
Then his eyes twinkled, "He looked wonderful in tights, you know. I did look rather dashing in hose myself, if I do say so."
Pennington took a large swig of tea to hide her expression. He's probably just making this up, don't imagine Captain Picard..oh God.
She cleared her throat.
"Well, it sounds like you two are already getting along...swimmingly."
"Well, then, and it was a bit spiteful, I confess, I gave Riker the powers of the Q. Picard was so jealous. And well, Picard as a Q would have been boring. Picard wasn't happy, let me tell you.
"I know, I know, it was petty of me."
"Oh well, you're only hu...well, Q. More tea?"
"Yes, wonderful idea." More tea appeared - it was the best tea she had ever had. "Oh, and as for the Romulans - I suggest you investigate them. They've almost found the answer. In your own lab, no less." He smiled, and vanished, leaving her with the tea, and a phantom kiss on her cheek.
(Posted with 'teh Captain', of course. Tea for P! In game and out! ;p)
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Post by Lord Redcoat on Aug 4, 2010 18:19:15 GMT -5
Khev was less than pleased with his sparkle's disappearance, but there wasn't a lot he could do about it. So he let her go.
...And waited.
After a few moments, he got bored, briefly flicked through Gunning's collection of holonovels, and went to see what the replicator could do...
...Very shortly, Gunning's room was lit by candles, a thousand guttering lights, from stumps ranging from white to black, to blue to cream, from beeswax to who knew what. At any rate, soon the distinctive aroma of scented candles filled the room. So did roses and other flowers, which he scattered across the floor and hung around the room in vases. If there was a replicator quota, he was fast using it up.
Then to his horror, the replicator could not make Romulan ale, or any sort of 'real' alcohol. Not to be put off by such things, Khev created the components to brew it... ...and soon one of the corners of Gunning's room had been turned into a wine vat, and another a stewpot as Khev began to cook. If his precious sparkles couldn't be there, well, he would just make dinner for her for when she returned.
At least, that was what the holonovel suggested in not so many words. Apparently, human females liked this sort of thing. Too bad the ale would take some time, but it would be worth it in the end. Stupid regulations.
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Post by Captain Dusk Rose on Aug 4, 2010 20:27:46 GMT -5
"Captain," Gunning's voice came over the com. "We've arrived, preparing to make contact with the Romulan vessel."
"Understood, I'm on my way." She stood to leave and turned to Q.
"Thank you, I'll figure out what they're up to...and er... thanks for the tea."
"Ah, you are most welcome, my dear." Q smiled, yet he wasn't there, and Pennington knew it. The tea remained full even though she sipped from it. How long it would remain 'self-refillable' was not known.
(<3)
One almost got the impression a little bit of gratitude was all he ever wanted.
Pennington entered the bridge and replaced Gunning at the conn.
Nao'po was back at her station, her uniform changed but her hair was still down and her expression unusual.
"Captain, they're hailing us."
"On screen."
The Romulan Commander appeared on the screen and Counselor Warner sidled up next to Nao'po at the conn.
"Hey, I heard you and the munitians officer...well, where is he?"
"I have no comment on the matter."
"Well, if you ever need to talk anything over..."
Pennington stood forward on the bridge and eyed the viewscreen. With out a doubt, it was him, just to the side...right beside the Commander. She clenched her fists and forced her face to remain calm.
"I am Captain Alva Pennington of the USS Harrogate, to whom do I have the honor of addressing?"
"Jolan'Tru. I am Commander Ro'Wena of the IRW T'Met." The Romulan's eyes swept the bridge suspiciously.
"Well? Where are they? If they are in any way harmed you will be in direct violation of treaty-"
Pennington put a hand up to interrupt.
"They are unharmed. I will summon them immediately for you if you wish?"
"I do."
Pennington tapped her combadge.
"Commander Dharvanek report to the bridge."
"Negative." Came back the cool response, almost cold.
There was a pause, and then Tomalak spoke, "The commander is otherwise indisposed. May I be of assistance, Captain?"
That was Dharvanek without a doubt.
Pennington raised her eyebrows and Ro'Wena's expression was most definitely not amused.
"Well...if it's not too much trouble ma'am." She couldn't keep the sarcasm from her voice.
"Computer, locate Commander Dharvanek." Tomalak said simply, though it was phrased very much as an order.
"Commander Dharvanek is in her quarters." the computer responded.
"As you can see, there is no deception. Now, how may I be of assistance?"
Of course, Tomalak was unaware of Ro'Wena's presence...
"We've made contact with the vessel that's to take you back to Romulan territory, under command of Ro'Wena Dar of the Imperial Romulan Fleet."
There was silence; no sharp intake of breathing, no static, nor screeching, or rejoicing, just silence. There was something icy, almost sinister about it.
"Acknowledged." Tomalak's voice rang out with more apathy than a Vulcan. Then she 'hung up'.
Gunning raised and eyebrow and looked up at Pennington. "Captain, would you like me to go collect them?"
"Valdran," Tomalak instructed emotionlessly, "you have your orders."
The Romulan man nodded, and secured the false tooth that they all carried. Then he watched her curtly, and said simply, "For the glory of the Empire."
"Indeed." The science officer turned, and then hit the console. Control from the teleporters rerouted to astrophysics and the doors sealed themselves. It would buy them a few moments. The only question was: did she beam aboard a photo torpedo and potentially begin a war, or did she hold back? Their mission was too important to allow themselves to be captured, yet... a war might cripple the Empire.
Outside, Valdran stood guard, fully expecting to die for his Commander's cause - and for the Empire.
In her quarters, Dharvanek prepared. The shower finished running, and the replica finished creating her eight blades. Daggers all of them. They would not show up on the scanners, and she secreted them about herself. Then she purged the replicator's memory.
Finally, she slipped in a second tooth; one that released poison gas she could spit in a foe's face.
"I am ready, Captain." She issued over the com. "You may begin my transport when you are ready."
Elsewhere, Vreenak dreamed, and elsewhere still, Khev continued to brew his Romulan ale - even though it would take months before it was ready.
Vreenak was not aware of the Commander's plan; only Tomalak was: when Dharvanek transported, Tomalak would include a second, hidden transport: the torpedo. It would be invisible to sensors...
Ro'Wena shifted in obvious discomfort and Pennington's own face was annoyed and bewildered.
"Commander, aparently there has been a miscommunication amidst the crew members of the Decius' crew. Perhaps I could interest you in dinner on board the Harrogate? We can discuss the terms of transport, you can meet the others, and we can work on bettering relations between our peoples. What do you say?" Ro'Wena was not convinced; however, an inside view of a Galaxy class cruiser...was this Captain mad? The opportunity was astounding. And perhaps she could even escape that dreaded Tal Shiar agent for a few moments...
"Captain?" Dharvanek's voice was terse, and icy. There was no anticipation, or eagerness, just the blankness that most Romulans wore. "I am ready to transport. End this delay at once. Initiate it."
The com ended abruptly. Pennington had been hung up on again.
"I accept. I shall look forward to meeting you."
"And I you, until then Commander."
Pennington signalled Nao'po to end the communication and pressed the communication panel to answer Dharvanek.
"Your transporation has been delayed. You will meet with Commander Dar this evening at a formal dinner. I trust that all of this can be resolved civily." She switched the comm back off.
Had Dharvanek been human and given into her feelings, she would have trashed the room. Instead, she simply nodded slowly and composed her feelings.
"Tomalak," she pressed down on her neck, activating the hidden internal-surgical implanted communication device that they only used in emergencies - and 'regular' Romulans were not aware of; a technology stolen and adapted from the Cardassians. "Delay our plan. There has been an alteration..."
"Acknowledged."
The astrophysicals lab unsealed, and Valdran lived another day...
(Guest appearance by that dashing, omnipotent charismatic pseudo-divinity incarnate that is Q. Huzzah! (Because Q is more handsome than you).)
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Post by Ciel Phantomhive on Aug 6, 2010 18:17:58 GMT -5
Gunning stretched, wincing slightly as tender muscles protested, but she kept walking, taking a
slower, calmer pace back to her quarters.
Dinner with the Romulans? What was her captain thinking?
Better yet, what was she going to wear?
Back in Gunning's quarters, Khev was adding the finishing touches to his latest 'masterpiece'. He had been scanning through the ship's files on human culture, and run across something that he hoped would please Gunning. He had never attempted to make human food before, and this had taken him many tries, but finally, he was there.
He had made the replicator created flour, which he had made with his hands into dough, and ordered the replicator to make yeast. He had ordered the parts for an oven, and now, finally, it was crispy and he added the last anchovy. The olives were in a circle so precise it looked artificial (or Vulcan), and the pepperoni was sliced just so. He would have killed a pig himself, but alas, there were none to be found. The cheese tasted strange to his tongue, but enjoyable after he had got used to it.
The pizza was ready; the Romulan food was ready: all that was lacking was the ale, and that was brewing - even if it would take months.
Gunning's floor was littered with flowers, as was her bed, and vases holding more flowers decked her walls. Candles guttered everywhere; there was nothing more Khev could do.]
Nothing, except wait, hope and pray.
The first thing Gunning noticed when the doors opened was the soft candle smell that hit her full force, followed by the flowers. She was at a complete loss for words as she stood in the doorway, taking in the sight. The wonderful smell of food quickly came next, inspiring her to venture that few steps into the room.
"Khev?"
Her eyes were sparkling brightly in the candle light as she turned an odd expression to him, one caught between surprise and a warm, deep sort of love. "Are you sure you're a Romulan?"
"You... don't like it?" He sounded crushed, utterly defeated, and bowed his head. "Forgive me, I thought it was what you wanted - your human customs..."
If ever there was a more crestfallen Romulan, Gunning had yet to hear it.
Gunning hit him dead on in a tackle that sent them both tumbling onto the bed, and began pressing kisses all over his face.
"You silly silly thing!" She cooed between kisses. "It's beautiful! Wonderful! You did this all for me?"
More kisses, from his forehead to the tip of his nose, across his cheeks and even at his ears. Nothing was spared of her love.
He nodded dumbly, rooted to the spot by her touch; it was more than he could have expected, or even dreamed for.
The fact that two of her quarters' corners had been taken up would no doubt register on Gunning's mind soon enough. With the replicator being so small, Khev had programmed the thing to produce small pieces, pieces that would fit together, that he could weld together. The work should have taken days, yet he had achieved it simply and efficiently - with the aid of a computer programme he had ordered the computer to write.
The Romulan was too stunned to respond, but managed a weak smile at her words. Finally, he managed to whisper, "I love you."
Gunning pulled back slowly, barely daring to believe what she had just heard.
He… He loves me?
It was silly; as Nao’po would say, “illogical” and yet…
“I.. I love you too.”
A single tear escaped before Gunning was on him again, lips pressed firmly and passionately to his, her fingers gripping his shirt tightly, as if he would disappear if she let go. Her heart felt ready to explode, so unsure and yet so very sure of his love, of what she felt. She needed him, wanted him, and there was no will to fight it.
When at last the need for air overtook her love for him, Gunning snuggled tightly to Khev, letting quiet tears fall in happiness.
Khev clung just as hard, and plastered his lips to her hair in a kiss that lasted as long as their most passionate, intimate kiss. Then he let his cheek rest on her head as his arms held her tight. Finally, with only the candles and flowers for company, he managed weakly, "Eat now, or after?"
With a small, almost sheepish smile, he held up a medical device. "I... found this in the ship's designs..." It would regenerate her, eliminating any soreness, bruising, tearing or hurt. Her Romulan held her to his chest, still dazed by her reply and by his own admission.
A soft blush formed at Gunning's cheeks as she took the device from him.
"Actually... I came to tell you that we have to attend a formal dinner with the captain tonight. We have about…” she paused, glancing at the clock. “Two hours till we need to go…”
Her stomach growled loudly suddenly, making her giggle.
“I suppose I could eat a little, but we really need to save room for dinner. It won‘t be as good as yours, I‘m sure.”
She felt terrible, Khev had gone through so much trouble just for her, and she wouldn’t be able to enjoy it properly. They could always put it away for later, at least. The computer would keep is fresh for them, a trick thankfully added because it was far too common for the crew to skip meals. (Angsty Vulcans XD)
He nodded, then that small smile grew into a larger one, and he asked softly, "Two hours to dress?"
Gunning nodded, smirking up at him.
Khev shook his head sadly, "You females... I'll never understand why it takes so long to dress..."
"Hey!" Gunning giggled, poking his side playfully. "It never takes me that long unless someone is trying to undress me at the same time!"
He grinned, and then placed his hand on her shoulder, "And will you need assistance?"
Gunning's grin mirrored his.
"I suppose it would go faster if you can help me out of my uniform..." she purred, nipping his ear. Yeah, she was going to need that medicine before it was over...
Khev was guileless as he picked up a sharpened knife from the table - the same knife he had used to cut onions with. Then he sliced their pizza up. (He hadn't caught on about circular pizza cutters yet). He offered her the first bite.
Gunning took a small bite, and was surprised to find it just as delicious as it smelled. She hadn't expected him to be able to prepare human foods, but he obviously had a talent for cooking.
"Oh wow, that's really good!"
Khev took an experimental bite, then pulled a face, disgust painting his features. Scrunching up his nose, he took another small bite, and gulped. Shaking his head, confusion held his gaze, "How can you eat this stuff?"
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Post by Ciel Phantomhive on Aug 6, 2010 18:20:30 GMT -5
Gunning bit her lip, fighting back the giggles.
"I guess it's because it's been a human food for so long. I grew up with it, so it's something I'm used to. We have better foods, though, you're bound to like some of them... What kinds of food do you like?"
She hadn't really thought to ask him anything like that before now, and it made her curious.
"How can you eat these... onions? Ugh. And... these... anchovies?" He tasted it again, "I like those." He kissed her lightly, "I like Romulan food - we can try it after the dinner?"
She kissed him back gently and nodded in agreement. "I'm not sure what the captain decided on for dinner so that may be more welcome than we realize. Hehe..."
He pressed the slice to her lips and took a nibble of his own. In spite of his initial disgust, he was still eating it, and with each second that passed, his scowl lessened.
Gunning just smiled and mimicked him. She was trying very hard to ignore how adorable she found the faces he made. He was trying so hard, just for her, and it made her heart thump happily in her chest.
After the slice was gone, including the crust stuffed with cheese - which he seemed to enjoy and didn't screw up his face even once - he kissed her lightly again. He fingered the knife, "How does your uniform undo?"
*Then, like quicksilver, the tip of the knife flashed, biting down.
*He skewered an olive, and held it up for her.
Gunning accepted the olive, smirking at him slightly, and replied, "Just like a shirt would..."
It felt quite odd to be explaining how her uniform came off, but she supposed he'd be looking for zippers or snaps anyway.
Khev paused, then placed his hands on her center of her breast, and on her side, searching for the hidden seam. Then he scowled, and tugged sharply.
"Like this?"
"Hehe, no, like this..."
Taking his hands, Gunning brought them down to her thighs and put the hem of her skirt in his fingers. Shifting slightly, she helped him ease the fabric upwards. "See?"
Khev frowned, "Is that... pink?" He peered at what was beneath. In the candlelight, things looked different.
Gunning rolled her eyes playfully and forced him to pull her dress up enough to reveal the sparkly lace. "It's actually more of a red."
He tilted his head back, then said simply, "I don't like it. Take it off?"
Gunning pulled her dress the rest of the way off and fell back on the bed, amongst the flower petals. "Aren't you the one who wanted to help me? You do it."
She gave him a defiant smirk, waiting for him to notice that the top matched.
"Hmm." Khev's hands moved to obey...
...And Gunning found herself in her skirt, her top, and not much more - and on the bed.
"I can't go to dinner like this, you know."
"I thought you asked me to help you undress..." His hands moved to her top, "It's easier to undo it like this..." Or at least, he thought so. Then he planted kisses from her lips to her...
...and using his teeth, and fingers, he wrested her top free.
It seemed like such an achievement, and he was beaming.
Gunning just giggled, letting him have his fun. They still had plenty of time, and it wouldn't be hard to get into her dinner dress.
"I don't like your starfleet uniforms," he leaned in and confided, "I was looking through your computer, and these ones aren't very... becoming." He cleared his throat, and a faint blush touched him, "I like the old ones. Or ours."
The corners of Gunning's lips turned up in a smirk. "Between us, I like the old ones better as well... and I'm not sure Pennington would be very happy with me walking around in Romulan clothing... otherwise I would be all for it."
"It has more character," he sniffed slightly, then smiled, "I like the smell of your... flowers, what are these ones?" He held up a rose. "It would look pretty in your hair."
"These are roses." Gunning said touching the petals gently. "Highly valued on Earth, for some reason. They're hard to grow, and lovers give them to eachother as gifts..."
She took it gently from him, and carefully tied it into a pigtail, the borg laser kept hidden beneath the blood colored petals.
Sadness entered his eyes, and his tone was suddenly serious; far more grave than she had ever heard from him before. "They'll execute us, you know. They'll take us with looks of thinly veiled, even open, contempt, and before you've even left, they'll have killed us. Unless they bring us home for trial. I'll never see you again..."
His fists clenched, and his entire body went rigid. "I... wanted to thank you, before... ...before the end. I'm... glad to have met you." His eyes lowered, refusing to meet hers. "We're traitors in the eyes of the Empire. We should have perished with our ship..."
Gunning stroked his cheek gently and pulled him close. "Like hell they will. You helped save our ship, you'll be under the protection of the Federation, should you choose to stay... Pennington will let you, if you can prove to her that you won't betray us... won't betray me..." Her fingers found his hair, gently, soothingly. "Your comrades will be given the same treatment if they want it, I'm sure, under the same conditions...It's better than death."
Sighing heavily, Gunning clung tightly to Khev. She couldn't stand the thought of being without him now, she wanted to be with him, always, and would fight for him if it came to it.
"They'd blow the ship up if they had to, plant a device... my... love... I cannot stay. I... I would be a danger to you. If they cannot have us... they'll send assassins. You... you would never be safe. How - how could I risk you?"
Now he lifted his head to meet her eyes.
There was a fire in Gunning's eyes now, contrasting sharply with the love that still shown there.
"Would you stand and fight beside us if it meant we'd be safe? We took out a ship full of borg! And you wouldn't be alone. Vreenak is so taken with Nao'po he will be facing the same danger. And we've certainly been in worse trouble."
Gunning leaned in to kiss him, a kiss filled with purpose and love. "But enough for now. We'll deal with this when it comes. It's almost time for dinner."
(For the first time, he smiled, then nodded sharply. "We can do this, we can definitely do this! Let's stand together! With love and friendship! The power of unity!") (Dammit C! Stop your Twilight! XD )
For the first time, he smiled, then nodded, "Not for the Empire, or for the Federation, but for you." He took her hands between kisses, "I will stand with you, in life or death."
Gunning's fingers laced with his, and she smiled a smile meant only for him. "Come on, help me out of this, I need to get into my dinner dress..."
Then Khev went pale, "But... aren't you wearing your uniform? And... don't you..." He was crestfallen again, "I read that... humans... don't go alone to dinner."
"Exactly." Gunning replied with a slight smirk, moving to her wardrobe. From within she pulled a short black dress, sparkled to look like the stars. "Which is why you will accompany me, as per my orders."
Laying the dress on the bed, she grabbed his hands and brought them to her remaining clothing, a smirk on her lips. "So, are you going to help me undress?"
Khev smiled.
( Posted with C, would could outdo Twilight in length and quailty if only he had a mind for vampire romance XD)
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Post by Captain Dusk Rose on Aug 12, 2010 16:54:06 GMT -5
Captain Pennington studied her reflection. She ran her fingers along the gold trim of her dress uniform, then brought her hands up to adjust her hair.
It'd been years since she had interacted with Romulans, and with him, now suddenly she was surrounded by them. What was she thinking inviting them onto her ship? This had to be a breach of starfleet security. Yet she had a trust for this commander, one she was sure was misplaced, and a respect for Romulans and their culture.
She moved to her personal replicator and asked for tea. She sipped it slowly, she still had time to kill before the dinner, and she had to clear her mind, which meant killing the flutter of excitement somewhere deep in her chest.
-----
Nao'po had waited beside Vreenak's bed in sickbay, an amount of time that she deemed reasonable before asking.
"Are you feeling better?" If her calculations on Romulan physiology were correct, he should be near to or completely recovered.
Vreenak kept his eyes firmly closed, but his breathing lightened, teasing her by allowing her to know he sensed her near. He willed her to move closer...
Nao'po raised an eyebrow. He was clearly awake, yet he did not respond. His illogical behavior vexed her...and yet. She leaned closer.
"Vreenak?"
His hands snaked out, caught hers and pulled her down for a kiss, his firm mouth pressing against her soft lips. His hands held her in a gentle, yet vice-like grip. When he finally broke it, he did so by opening his eyes.
Then his dark, dark grey eyes smiled.
There was no other for him in all the worlds, in all the stars, but her.
Nao'po noted an elevation in her heart rate and temperature. Peculiar.
"Vreenak." She continued, softly. It took her a millisecond longer to recall her purpose than usual, an unfortunate decrease in efficiency.
"The Captain has ordered a formal dinner with the Commander of the Romulan vessel. I am to attend, and I would imagine you as well, as you are part of the Romulan crew we are transporting. Would you..." Her eyebrow shifted a little, expressing a hint of emotion.
"Would you care to accompany me?"
"Will you leave me caught between your fingers upon the zenith of my victory fought for you, most beautiful divinity?" Vreenak's words were soft, yet filled with pride - pride that he had fought for her, that he was worthy in her eyes, despite her Vulcan rhetoric.
He hadn't let go of her hand, and then smiled, "I thought it was custom on some worlds that a lady bestow her champion with her favour - or a kiss." He didn't sit up, but he couldn't bear to be parted to her, and delighted in her nearness. There was a warmth radiating from him the likes of which she had never known, not even in the combat.
"True." She raised both her eyebrows in confirmation, yet paused a moment. Something in his expression made her uneasy, something...illogical, stirred with in her. She moved in closer, and kissed him.
This time, his hand slipped up and caught the back of her neck, running through her hair and embracing her. There was no clinginess, but there was unease as her words sank in. He held her as if it might be the last time, and his eyes closed. Then his hand reached up and somehow, he began to initiate a mindmeld with her...
Nao'po let out a soft gasp, surprised that a Romulan could perform the Vulcan technique. She allowed herself to relax, and opened herself to his mind.
The sensation was one of floating, in a world of fine grey mist, so fine it seemed almost like silk beaded with ten thousand tiny tears. There, within the mist stood a silhouette: Vreenak.
"My mind to your mind." He said simply, and lowered his hand slightly. Where had he learnt such a thing? It had not been the first time he attempted it, but the connection was solid, stable, though it was a shadow of what it should of been, just as Vreenak himself was a shade. Perhaps it was on purpose... yet...
Yet all that sounded throughout Nao'po's mind was the words: Tal Shiar. Assassin. Tal Shiar. Assassin. The sense of dread, of death loomed; Vreenak did not fear death... but now, something had changed. Something within the holodeck, perhaps before... ...now he feared losing her. There was no more, but the constant buzz of Tal Shiar. Assassin. Tal Shiar. Assassin.
Then, amidst that, and images of traps, of devices being planted to destroy the Federation ship, of poison, treachery, betrayal, and death, there were three words and a feeling of gentle warmth stronger than any sun. Then ten thousand, thousand suns.
"I love you"
A concept, more than words; form given life, expressed by words that sounded so strange, so alien on his tongue - ill fitting, yet... encapsulating a prospect far greater than he could ever describe. He did not even understand it; he was no more familiar with the concept than she was. It was an abject, abstract, illogical concept - even to him, a Romulan. A weapons master, he was... a warrior. But this? This... was something new. Something... that did not scare him, but caused him unease. He knew no fear... until now. The fear of losing her, his beautiful Vulcan, to whom he had felt closer to than any other one, living or dead. Closer than any other lover, than duty, than even his honour. She was his honour, his prize incarnate: living victory. She was... all he could wish for, and his feelings, though not fully realised, were boundless.
How else could he express this, than by joining his mind to hers, and offering to drop his walls; walls that were still raised, and yet, he had let her inside his guard. She was the first... the first in a long, long time. The others were dead, and had never been allowed in further. He held his hand out in a Vulcan salute. He would let her in, but to do so would be to sign her death warrant: if the Tal Shiar even suspected, she would be killed. He could not allow that. She must not know what was within his mind - yet, he invited her into his heart.
I love you.
((Posted with Colin))
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Post by Lord Redcoat on Aug 13, 2010 20:03:02 GMT -5
Khev stared at her, his eyes absorbing her every facet, her every detail. "You look amazing..." he whispered.
Gunning smiled at him through the mirror, tying the black silk ribbons into her hair, carefully hiding the borg laser.
“I’m not even fully dressed yet.” She smirked, sliding passed him to pick up her stockings and shoes.
"No?" He studied her hair, "You look as if you are." Then he glanced at her body, and smiled, "Well... perhaps with that hacked up sack you humans call a 'dress'." Winking at her, he held it up - a slip/chemise/underwear-nightie-thing.
Gunning crossed her arms, her smirk remaining firmly in place. "I can't wear that to dinner. Do you want everyone to see me like that?"
"Why not?" Khev pointed to the database-computer on the wall. "She's wearing it at a dinner party."
She had to pause in tugging up a stocking to look, but snickered slightly. "That... hehe, that's not a proper dinner party, lets leave it at that."
Khev turned and examined the monitor. "No? Then... what about this one?" He pulled up a long ball gown with a train almost half the length of the gown itself. "You'd look good in this one." He eyed the tux the man was wearing, "I'm not sure about this though."
Gunning paused at that, looking the dress over. "Oh wow... that's lovely... but it's too much for this dinner." She tugged the other stocking up, and smoothed it into place. Lifting the black dress from the edge of bed, she held it up for him to see.
“This one suits better. Simple, and pretty.” She said, watching the way the glitter shimmered lightly. “And it will be much easier for you to help me
out of later..."
He tilted his head, then nodded and shrugged, then looked saddened, "It will be our first dinner." Then his eyes lit with a wicked glee that she'd rarely seen before, "Would it really be too much? ...Imagine their faces... to see you in all your radiance?"
Even as he spoke, he moved to help her with the dress.
Gunning just smiled, kissing him gently. "As lovely as it would be, it would be better to save it for the holodeck, after dinner."
"The holodeck...?" Then it dawned on him, and he chuckled, "Ah, I see. 'Computer, end programme'." He grinned, winked and kissed her back.
A sad sort of look flickered across Gunning's face for a moment, but it faded quickly. Slipping into her favorite little black dress, she grinned up at Khev. "There, how's that?"
Khev didn't miss the flicker but chose not to comment, but instead took her hands in his and guided her over to the mirror, and said, "Look. See yourself as I do: beautiful."
A soft blush painted itself neatly across Gunning's cheeks as she looked up at him through the mirror. Nobody had ever told her that before...
Tugging his hands around her waist, she leaned back against him and sighed softly. "I love you."
His face distorted, becoming tragic and twisted, "You don't know what you're saying. I'm a Romulan who'll lead you and your crew to your deaths. Let me go. I... never should have been here. You don't even know why we came here..."
"Bullshit."
Gunning turned sharply in his arms, seeking his eyes with her's. "You don't mean that, I can hear it in your voice."
Her hands slid up to run through his hair, an affectionate touch he wouldn't, couldn't ignore. "Why are you here, Khev?"
"To kill you, if you failed to obey us, to take over your ship. You didn't really think we came here to - to serve as allies did you? We needed your ship - needed to distract the Borg long enough to get away, and to link up with the... you don't understand. That is a Tal Shiar on that ship coming here. And - we... you didn't think... we are -"
He turned away, "We're no mere renegades to be hunted down. How can you love me without knowing what I am? Those borg... something happened to us. I don't... I don't know what. All... all I know is... I'm not what I once was... and you... I was drawn to you the instant I saw you. You are so beautiful," his hand reached out for her, then fell away, just falling short of brushing her cheek. "You are... all I could have dreamed for. I... deserve to die, human. We all do. We... we are worse than the Borg. I... you are so beautiful. How could I love you? You... who... you don't know how easy it would have been to deceive you. We, who tortured Cardassians to make them reveal their infiltration techniques. The Tal Shiar hate us. We are... a nightmare, an idea, an ideal, your worst foes... ...and... I... love you. If you have any sense in that human heart of yours, you'll take that knife and plunge it through mine."
The scent of candles still filled the room, their flickering, guttering lights still illuminating it. The aroma of his cooking still lingered, as did the flowers and their sweet perfume.
Gunning stood silent a moment, watching his expressions flicker and change. When at last she moved, it was not to kill him, but to press herself closer; to kiss him softly and run her thumb gently over his cheek.
"Khev...It may be senseless to say so, but in light of the situation, I couldn't love you less, even after all of that... If you had a wish to kill me, you have had more than enough chance to. But you don't want to, do you?" Her voice was quiet, as though it were a secret that should remain between them. "You are... such a passionate lover. There is no malice in your touch, no hate... You have the choice to stay, and the will to choose so. Just like you chose to tell me, instead of killing me like you should have..."
"You should kill me. I would kill myself to... to keep them from you, but they would still come after you... they would come after you to see what you knew, and even if you knew nothing, they would torture you in an agony beyond death just because I was with you..." He met her stare, "Is that the life you want?"
He seemed to ignore her words about his disobedience.
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Post by Lord Redcoat on Aug 13, 2010 20:42:33 GMT -5
"But it's a little late for that. We've already been together, and it's not like it's been very secret. You dragged me off the bridge, for crying out loud!" She struggled to keep her voice even, fighting the tears that seemed to think now was the time to appear. "They're going to kill us anyway. It's too late to undo what's been done. And I don't want to be without you! I love you!"
"You're a fool; take that knife and plunge it into my throat. End this now before it's too late. Kill me and live free." The Romulan grabbed her shoulders and shook her, his eyes intent, "End it!"
A sharp sound echoed in the room as Gunning's hand collided with Khev's cheek.
"No."
One word, firm and decided, left her lips. For a moment she stood tall against him, could have been Romulan as well for the fire in her eyes. Did he not understand? She had never felt so strongly about anything before, and it burned to her core, making her braver than she had ever been.
A madness all it's own...
"I love you! And I don't want to live without you, even if it means we die together!"
"You stupid - don't you get that I was sent here to kill you and your precious crew if you refused to obey us?!" Unflinchingly, he shook her again, her hand leaving an imprint on his cheek. "You will die for a stranger you barely know!"
Gunning kept her eyes locked with his, refusing to give in. "Then why haven't you?"
"Because - because - something changed! With the borg... I don't know... I just... I ...I saw you and I... I felt something... I felt drawn to you, even after... something I had never... I..." He turned away, "I don't know!" His cry was anguished, and charged with raw emotion.
"Because you love me now."
It wasn't a question. She could hear it in every word, could see it in his eyes, and had without a doubt felt it in his touch. He was fighting it, and she knew it. But it was unrealistic to think there would be no conflict for him when suddenly his world had been turned upside down like it had.
"You don't know what I am, what I've done... you don't know what monsters we are..."
"Khev...Look at me..."
"No."
Gunning growled quietly and stepped around in front of him. Without giving him a chance to fight, she yanked him down to her level and sought his lips in a passionate kiss. Tears had begun to fall when at last she pulled back from him and said, "I don't care what you've done... no monster could make me feel the way you do... What will it take for me to prove to you that I love you?" Another kiss, more gentle but just as passionate.
"You don't know -" He pulled back roughly, "They offered us a test - to prove to ourselves we were good enough, not to them, to us. They told us to kill someone. Anyone we wished. If we refused, we still joined. It was a test. I - I could have chosen anyone."
"So now what are you going to do?" Gunning snapped in return. "What choice is left for you?"
"I... stay with you, and we live the rest of our lives in fear, expecting to be tortured, or... I throw myself out the airlock and rid you of that fate." He sighed.
Running her fingers through his hair gently, Gunning sighed as well. "You think I'd let you do that? I don't want you to rid me of a fate I created with you."
"I don't know why you care so much."
"Because I love you."
"...And I you."
"Then stay with me. Please..."
"And my past? My brother... that I... that I slew my own kin?"
Gunning bit her bottom lip for a moment, but replied, "What you have done in the past doesn't matter to me, so long as you really love me, and I can trust you to stay with me, to deal with the mess we created together."
"But I know nothing about you... whether you even have a lover elsewhere, or a children... or..."
"Do you? I've always been good with them..."
"...I can't make you change your mind, can I?"
"Hehe... you'll have to try much harder than that."
"Tomalak... I... she's always been... I've always admired her. More than admired her..."
One of Gunning's eyebrows rose higher than the other, but the small smirk at the corner of her lips refused to budge.
"She's beautiful you know. Aloof, strong, cooly composed, always. Cunning, calculating... she is everything I could want in a Romulan mate."
"She doesn't have sparkles." Still, that expression remained. He wasn't going to win.
He shrugged, "She's colder than a Vulcan. She and Vreenak would be a better match. Genetically speaking and otherwise. But... Dharvanek and I... we... she sees us as hers. All of us. Even Tomalak."
Gunning wrapped her arms around him, leaning up on her toes to touch the tip of her nose to his. "But does she make you feel like like I do?" A kiss, so very light it was no more than a taunt. "I doubt it... And I could be cold and rough if you really wished it..."
He turned away from her, his eyes suddenly filled with despair, "What makes you think I like that...?"
This time Gunning's face turned a bright pink. "Well, I'm sure the captain got a good laugh when I entered the bridge earlier... for someone who didn't enjoy themselves you sure left me sore..."
"I never said that..."
Then will you stop fighting?"
“‘A man should know when he is defeated’ – Vreenak said that. He’s right.”
Then he kissed her.
Gunning let him kiss her for a moment before shoving him back enough to look up into his eyes. "Do you mean it? Do you love me enough to stay? Even if it means we die together in battle?"
"I do not fear battle... I fear losing you... your mind broken to torture... agony where you crave death, beg for death, but it is denied you." He looked away, "I would sooner die than lose you to that." Then he met her gaze levelly, "I will stay with you, even until the end, if that is your heart's desire. I... love you."
Something dark flickered behind her eyes and Gunning took Khev's hands, holding them tightly. "Enough you would marry me to have my crew, my captain to back us and keep us safe?"
It had been a thought, lingering in the back of her head, but she hadn't been able to find words for it untill now, with her blood boiling over the thought of losing him, of what fate awaited them otherwise.
"Uh..." Khev stared at her.
Gunning turned away from him, letting her eyes wander over the flowers and candles decorating her room. "I'm not asking you to propose now... but if it were needed, would you?" She bit her lip, her eyes falling closed as she waited for his answer.
"I thought... in your culture... the database said... the man had to ask the woman... I don't know what to do... you asked me to marry you. I... was thinking about dinner... I..."
Dinner?
Gunning's eyes shot to the clock, and she turned back to him. "Dinner... we should go... think on it?" She leaned up to kiss him. "We can talk more after dinner... I have something to show you, anyway."
"I was going to ask you after dinner!"
Khev looked away, "but I have no ring..."
Gunning just stared at him, blinking in confusion. "You... you... ring? We...We can...worry about the ring later..."
"No! It's human custom! I - I was too busy working on... this..." He waved his hand, "I... I can't marry you! I can't!"
"Because of the ring?" Gunning couldn't contain the giggles. "Khev! The ring is just the symbol that you are[i/] married! There are papers to fill out that actually make the marriage, and...hehehehe... oh dear..."
Taking a seat on the edge of her bed, Gunning tried to get control of herself. It was hard to think with so much happiness and excitement in her heart.
"But... I... I'm - I'm already married..." He stared at her, "You... your culture doesn't allow for more than one? We... we're all married."
Gunning raised a curious eyebrow. "What do you mean?" She was begining to realize how little she really knew about Romulan culture.
"To the Empire. To our ship. To... our 'brothers and sisters'; I don't know how to explain it. It is... I..." He looked up at her, and dropped to both knees, taking her hands in his, "If you'll have me... I am yours, all my vows cast asunder, broken... shed... for you. All I am... is yours."
Gunning smiled, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "I told you... I'm willing to die with you. I want you, love you, and will never betray you."
Then he stared up into her eyes, unwaveringly, "Sparkles, will you marry me?"
"Yes, my Romulan prince," she giggled softly. "I will."
Then the alarm went off. A lot. They were late for dinner.
(Written with - well, you should know by now who Gunning's creator is. Sparkle-sparkle!)
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Post by Captain Dusk Rose on Aug 19, 2010 21:29:03 GMT -5
Nao'po met his hand with her own in the vulcan salute.
This is impossible. she whispered into his mind, his emotions flooding her in an uncontrolled wave.
I love you she replied to him at last, her eyes clouded with tears, an alien experience and her hands shook. Still, beneath the warmth she felt the cold chill of his warning. Were the Tal Shiar implimenting an attack on the Harrogate even as she sat here?
"Nothing is impossible." he replied calmly, then paused, "I admire you greatly... your people... your mental disciplines. Will you... ...will you teach me? That I might return your love, to be... as you would have me? As a Romulan, it would never be accepted... but... could... could I become as you are?"
It was the faintest whisper, a hope daredly breathed; awe, and wonder, but also a submission of his warrior's pride, as well as its presence.
What he asked was treason.
I will try She replied, her thoughts laced with warmth. but you must help us...protect us from the others Images of his Romulan crew filled their minds.
"Command it, and I will slay them all." It was a promise, a vow, his will yielding to hers, but out of choice, not submission. And he would too - the warrior within, the proud, dignified pride, the knowledge of his skill, and the deadly way he wielded such things. What could have happened that he would turn on them so easily?
"Your thoughts are my thoughts, my heart is your heart... my soul is your soul. Be with me as one, and we will act as one spirit in two beings. I would pledge this to you, for you... if you will do the same." That was his condition: the surrender of self, to become something... greater.
Then images of other Romulans filled her mind, "Tal Shiar."
I will Nao'po studied the faces in her mind. Are they all Tal Shiar?
Nurse Church bumped her head on a cupboard when she straightened from staring at the two.
"They - we - are - were a splinter faction. They... Tomalak is the true threat. Yet, she will be a powerful ally if she aids us. She has no quarrel with this ship, or her crew, but will use them. If we ally with her, and give her what she needs... she will help defeat those that hunt us. I..." a flash of shame ran through him, "cannot defeat them alone."
He paused, "The others are not worth noting, except Dharvanek. She is dangerous too, but she too will not sabotage her efforts and will help if it means getting away from the hunters. Khev is weak, useless. A pathetic waste of space, as is Valdran."
Nao'po raised her eyebrows at the comment about Khev. Logical. What should be done now?
"We produce offspring, strong in mental discipline, strength, agility and intelligence. We begin the first of a new people, you as the mother and I as the father. Then we engineer the best traits to reflect our vision, and turn the threat of the Tal Shiar away from us forever?"
Then he paused, "I forget your Federation forbids genetic tampering. Forgive me." Thoughts flashed by; a thousand ways to infiltrate the Harrogate, to take out his Romulan 'kin', both Tal Shiar and his own. Plots and strategems; the inception of his plans - what Tomalak might do, variations upon variations. Character profiles of all his former brethren. It flashed through his thoughts so quickly, she caught only glimpses.
Finally, he considered, "We wait."
Agreed. As for our genetically advanced children, there are no laws against having children;however, it is a plan that cannot be implimented before dinner.
"Immediate plans?" He considered, "we could begin their inception; it is logical to synathise their genes as soon as we can, but it may take a while." A pause without guile, or anticipation; just a simple statement. He was becoming more 'Vulcan' by the minute. "We could assassinate them at the dinner." Then he decided that Pennington would not approve, and that echoed through the meld.
"The human is watching us," he noticed for the first time, "is she jealous of your ears?"
Quite possibly, it is impossible for a human to be born with such ears. a hint of pride. Perhaps it would be best to wait until after dinner to follow through with our...plans.
"Our sons and daughters shall have the most beautiful ears within the universe." A pause, "They will take after their mother."
Then his thoughts brushed hers with tender intimacy, yet strong; still every inch the warrior. "I will teach you how we Romulans fight, and show you our ways."
Then he considered, "What is to be worn at dinner? Robes?"
He didn't seem to think his grey Romulan tunic would be appropriate.
Nao'po moaned gently, enjoying the warmth of his mind. Nurse Church stared openly now, wondering what sensual ideas flowed between their minds...ooh it was exciting!
Something simple, elegant, a diplomatic flair. We want to encourage peace and productivity...in even our dress.
"I will trust your judgement..." He leaned up, then pressed his cheek close to hers, and then, it was as if he brushed her mind with a kiss more intimate than any kiss could be, and before anyone could react, he walked over to Nurse Church and applied a pinch fit for any Vulcan. "Fascinating she may find it, but it is illogical for her to watch without hearing. She is not privy to our thoughts, so she should be working. Since she is not... it seemed... logical to let her sleep. She... looked tired."
Vreenak was not one to make excuses, but he had for his Vulcan.
Nao'po raised her eyebrows and nodded. "Logical."
Vreenak inclined his head, his composure cool. He looked towards her for silent approval; he had stilled his mind, but even though the meld had faded, part of it lingered, as if there was an afterbrush. He still felt close to her, drawn to her.
"Come, I will help you prepare for the dinner." She stepped over the nurse and left sickbay.
Vreenak cast a look down at the nurse, then hefted her up onto the bed and rearranged her. He was less than pleased with the state she was in; were all humans this... damp? They didn't seem like amphibians; they had no fins or gills. Strange creatures.
He left her were she was, and followed his lover. It no longer matter he would commit treason for her. She was so beautiful, and her ears were the most wonderful sight he had ever seen. He would destroy the Empire for her, if it meant possessing her... and her he.
((Posted with the Q of CCness))
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Post by Lord Redcoat on Aug 28, 2010 16:57:40 GMT -5
Meanwhile, Dharvanek had a plan. In reality, it was mostly conceived by Tomalak. Valdran had no part in its design; only its execution.
It began with the replicator. It ended with an explosion and an ensign desperately trying to alert the captain - except the comm system was down. A computer virus ensured that the internal sensors were down, a cleverly written algorithm based off the borg data they had acquired - and the answer they needed. Pheromones. Such a simple answer; such a complex explanation. But Tomalak was a genius. A chameleon. She could be anything she wished to be.
In this case, she wished a cloaking device. The replicator had been incredibly useful. The borg-inspired virus, based off the pheromones, infiltrated the computer system, and scrambled the settings. So when they hit the cargo bay, Valdran in the lead, no one knew they were coming. The redshirts were not so much vaporised so much as left as walking zombies. Stunned.
Khev was a useless waste of space, and despite attempts to contact him, he chose not to respond. So they left him. As to Vreenak? Well, he was 'busy' with his Vulcan, and they left him as a sleeper agent. Could they trust him? It wasn't important.
What was important was the cloaking device, the stolen shuttle-craft and the trio that escaped. The virus meant when the command for the shuttlebay doors to open was given, it was not detected - and the explosion that was trigged upon their leaving took out the deflector dish and blew out astrophysics. The virus also took out power to the ship's engines and weapons. The Harrowgate was dead in space.
A second shuttle-craft, engineered to run on a course for Romulus left - with a trail of tacion particles.
The stolen shuttlecraft would not be traceable - except perhaps by another Romulan of their group. Would Khev or Vreenak betray their own?
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Post by Ciel Phantomhive on Aug 29, 2010 4:13:03 GMT -5
Gunning continued to stare at Khev, even as the alarm gave warning that they were going to be in great trouble. But mischief sparkled like fireflies behind sapphire eyes.
“We’re late for dinner…”
Khev looked down, "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have..." He looked so crestfallen that it would bring tears to even a Vulcan (maybe not Vreenak though).
That look might even bring tears to a Borg. (assuming it still had tear ducts left...)
Delicate fingers slid through his already mussed hair soothingly, sliding to the back of his neck where they splayed in the softness of it.
“Shhh…” Gunning replied. “I don’t care for formal things anyway… I say we skip it.”
Barely glossed lips brushed over his tauntingly, begging and demanding at once. She wanted him to advance, wanted him to take command, even for the moment of a simple joining of lips. True, she had spent a bit of time bothering to dress for the evening, but she found she would rather be with him, letting him remove that dress…
"No! We have to go!" Turning away, Khev grabbed her hand, "We need to get you there! It's important! We can't be late! Computer! Transport Commander Gunning and myself to - where are we going? The bridge?"
"Khev... darling, you're only half dressed..."
Gunning tugged back on his hand, and promptly set to righting his clothes.
“Your tunic is a bit wrinkled but it should be alright once I… Ah, there we go… and your belt…and the zipper too? Geez, I feel like your mot… Why are you going commando?”
"Transport Initiated."
The pair appeared on the bridge, Gunning still 'fixing' Khev's clothes...
In his hand, he held the belt and his trousers were held up by his hand. Mostly.
"Voice recognized."
The redshirts stared. "Commander...?"
"Override accepted."
Taking a page from Pennington’s book, Gunning, despite the brilliant shade of red that graced her cheeks, let go of Khev’s pants, straightened, and forced the guilty expression from her face.
“What?!”
Khev deftly caught his trousers and looped the belt around it. That they were standing in front of the vacant captain's chair didn't help...
"Uh... you look very nice commander." The redshirt turned as red as his shirt.
His eyes seem fixed on her barely covered...
Khev fixed him with a harsh look. It said 'my sparkles, damnit. MINE.'
His hand moved towards the disruptor that should have been there, but wasn't.
“Thank you…” Gunning replied politely, a slightly suspicious tone in her voice. She straightened her dress, double checking herself subtly. “…Good lord, stop staring at my tits!”
Turning her attention back to Khev sharply she hissed, “Calm down darling. We shouldn’t have been on the bridge anyway… but since we’re here, might as well check on things.”
It would give them an excuse to ditch the dinner party, or at least be late to it.
"But commander... you forgot... uh..." he saw Khev's look and shied back.
"'We are an advanced species and do not require underwear.'" He quoted Vreenak or Tomalak, no doubt, then smiled sweetly at his 'sparkles'. "Computer, display course."
"He can't do that!"
Khev gave the young ensign a withering glare.
Elsewhere, a female ensign was drooling...
and a second was drooling too. One was looking at the Romulan; the other was looking at her commander and the Romulan.
Gunning hushed the ensign with a glare of her own, one that threatened severe punishment if she were to be disobeyed. As the highest ranking officer on the bridge, she took the Captain’s chair with an inward sigh, then quickly adjusted as she remember she was wearing a dress, not a uniform, and had the dignity to blush over it.
The red-faced ensign had been staring at her since Khev's comment, and couldn't help but see if his commander had gone...
Khev said nothing, but had he a disruptor, there might have been a firefight. Of course the situation was 'defused' by the two female ensigns both gliding over to their respective commander/Romulan / Romulan and latching onto them - in a non-physical way.
"Commander, can we get you anything? Some tea?"
"Sir, would you like a drink? A coat? Can I help you with your buttons? Your shoes?"
The first giggled nervously, "You're so pretty, Commander. And he's so handsome... you make a lovely pair."
Gunning growled quietly.
“No no, we’re fine, thank you.”
Her tone was clipped, annoyed even. Being surrounded by fan girls was the last thing she wanted right now, and they certainly couldn’t bring her what she did want. He was standing in front of her, half dressed and being fawned over…
Khev looked down; the young ensign dropped to her knees and began shining his boots. They were already squeaky clean, but she was determined to see her face in them. The other girl brought up Gunning's chair for Khev, and the Romulan found himself seated on a Federation Starship's bridge - two girls at his side; the other shined his buttons as she did up the rest of his tunic.
Khev paused, then queried, "Are you a superior species?"
Gunning cut her eyes at Khev, though spoke to the ensigns. "That will be enough. Back to your stations. Now!"
Her eyes spoke volumes more than her expression did. She could have passed for an imitation of Pennington were it not for the fiery storm in her eyes; jealousy, annoyance, and her ever burning lust for him shown as a warning that she would take him now, on the bridge, in front of the crew if it meant her claim on him would be made clear… not that she really wished to resort to that tactic, but it wasn’t completely out of the question in her current mindset.
"A prince should have his servants." Khev commented quietly, and paused a second time. "And if I'm a prince, you're a princess."
There was a chorus of 'oos', and then one of the girls murmured, "We can be... if you'd like, your highness?"
"Isn't Romulus a republic?" The red-faced ensign muttered loud enough for the bridge to hear.
"A disruptor. A disruptor. My principality for a disruptor."
"...That's not how the line goes."
"Would a phaser do, sir?"
"Yes."
"Eee! Sorry sir! Commander! Stop him! Pleea-"
Khev leveled the phaser at him. The fan girls sighed at the drama.
“Khev…”
Gunning’s hand fell on his arm, and she locked eyes with him. “A prince may have his servants, but he still serves only his princess. No bloodshed today, please?”
"Oh... fine." He passed the phaser-on-stun to his beloved, and smiled, "I'll let you do the honours."
One of the fangirls murmured, "We can be an 'advanced species'. Let's prove it to him, to the entire ship!"
"Yeah!"
From under their uniforms, they began to...
Gunning leveled the phaser on them. "What did I tell you to do?”
The red-faced ensign still cowered behind his chair.
"Um. We are at our stations, ma'am."
"Mmhmm!" The second fangirl nodded in earnest, "'Bridge duty'. We're meant to uh, captain's black book log, ma'am. And... polish the railings?" She held up a rag. "Ma'am."
The first one beamed nervously.
"We get bored, so we clean. So your chair is all nice, and so is the captain's..."
"Get off the bridge before I report you both to the Captain. I'll sign for you a night off, just get out of my sight."
Her finger was ready and itching at the trigger. If only she were a Romulan too...
"Lashings." Khev said abruptly, "I saw it in your database. On ships. Midshipmen. Bent over a cannon and caned. Sailors were flogged." He smiled sweetly, ever so sweetly, "We don't have such practice. It intrigued me. Do you have one of those feringi whips? My commander does. I don't know if she lost it or not though."
"Oh! We found that, sir." The second girl cleared her throat, "Would you like me to fetch it?" She eyed Gunning nervously; the first was already inching towards the door.
"Yes."
The ensign tried to tiptoe away with the chair, hoping he wouldn't be seen.
Khev 'accidently' placed his hand on Gunning's wrist enough to make her jump...
Gunning’s eye twitched, but she eased her finger away from the trigger, laying her free hand over his. It was a sort of silent apology to him, and she relaxed back into the captain’s chair with a soft sigh. Her thumb brushed affectionately across the top of his hand and back, an action that not doubt soothed her more than it ever could him. Her nerves felt frayed suddenly, like the weight of everything had caught up with her and the best way to deal with it was to shoot the ensigns fawning over Khev. He was her Romulan sex god, dammit!
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Post by Ciel Phantomhive on Aug 29, 2010 4:14:07 GMT -5
"So, lashings?" Khev asked winsomely.
"Oh yes please!" number two burst out.
"For him?" Khev inquired, glaring at the creeping little man-boy-thing... who kept staring at his sparkles... His sparkles damnit! His!
A devious smirk curled at Gunning's lips and she replied, in a hushed tone, "Or you could save it for when we're back in my quarters..."
Khev scowled, then his finger shifted hers back onto the trigger and it fired. The boy yelped as the chair disappeared and he fell face first onto the floor. The first fangirl ran screaming, and the second yelled after her, "Don't forget: spread the word! 'Advanced species don't wear underwear'!"
Then she bowed and handed Khev the coiled feringi whip. Khev smiled, and unfurled it, then handed it to Gunning, his smile equally dark. "We could test it here." His eyes shot viciously towards the young ensign's. "You could have him prepared..."
The girl ran forward to do the Romulan's bidding. Then Khev leaned in and whispered, "You could lash her too. She'd probably enjoy it."
"Phaser fire detected."
"Oh hush."
"Acknowledged. Last observeration deleted."
The girl's eyes went wide, "How does he do that?"
Gunning turned a curious look to Khev. "Yeah, how are you doing that?"
He shrugged, "I dunno. I just tell it to. You should try it. Computer: play file 'Khev Omega Gunning Loveboat.'"
A really slow, song began to play.
"Awww..."
The young ensign was still staring at Gunning's chest.
"But you're not a member of this crew it shouldn't...."
Gunning paused, temporarily distracted by the music playing. "Were you trying to ensure that you'd get sparkles tonight? You've done more than any human guy would!"
Khev tilted his head, "I looked at your database. It said this is what human women like. It had a vast collection of holovideos detailing this, from cooking to sexual intercourse. It said that 50% of women prefer... they were most educational." He nodded firmly.
"Your computer was most helpful."
Gunning just blinked at him for a moment, in awe. “But no man I’ve ever known would jump through the hoops you have for me… I feel so blessed to have someone adore me so…”
She reached out to gently stroke his cheek, smiling.
"Jump through hoops?" Khev looked so confused, but smiled at her touch. "I love you," he said simply.
"Aww..." said the fangirl, touched by the intimacy of the moment.
"I can if you'd like me to. Computer -"
"No... hehe, no, it's just a saying.But you're so willing to please me. I have no choice but to love you completely."
Gunning leaned over and kissed him, that fangirling ensign be damned.
The girl swooned, and the boy crawled away...
Khev took Gunning's hand, and with it, flicked the whip out to grab the boy's ankle and drag him back. The girl was too enrapt with the moment and the music. It was adorable and lovely, and she wanted to be with both of them 'so bad'.
There was a darkness in Gunning's eyes that could have been Romulan in origin. She could feel the desire to hurt the insolent fools around them growing with each passing moment, but her focus remained solely on Khev. He looked so handsome,
Tugging sharply on the whip of her own accord, Gunning purred against Khev's ear, "He's just a boy, he can't help himself... and I don't want him, I want you."
The tip of her soft pink tongue found the spot at the curve of his ear that had driven him mad during their earlier passions in an incredibly unfair taunt.
"You're their commander," he breathed, steeling himself, "your - duty - is - to - disciplin-" He seized her, pushed her back against the captain's chair and kissed her senseless. 'Snogged her senseless' would have been a more accurate description.
The two young ensigns stared, wide eyed, wishful and lustful.
“Humans are far too nice. Haven’t you noticed?” Gunning managed between kisses, unable to stop herself from pressing closer to him.
This was so wrong, pinned to the captain’s chair, kissing a Romulan while two ensigns gawked at the scene. Well, whatever was wrong about it wasn’t wrong enough to stop her.
His hand slipped towards her thigh, and lightly tickled her, proving why Romulans were an 'advanced species'.
Ease of Access.
Gunning let out a soft sound akin to a moan and rested her head against Khev’s shoulder, fingers clutched tightly in his tunic. Still no proper protests passed her lips as her body arched into his touch…
Then he pulled back, and pointed at the two 'kids'. "More," he smiled through gritted teeth, "later. When you've... done your duty, 'Commander'."
They stared at their commanding office uncomprehending.
Khev placed the whip firmly in Gunning's hands; would she have the steel to be a Romulan?
“Khev…” Gunning whined softly at his retreat, but her attention quickly focused on the whip.
“I.. I want to…” she said, pulling the cord between her fingers. “But I could lose my job… The Federation…”
Khev just looked at her, disappointment apparent. He said nothing. He was already drawn up, and there was no mercy in his eyes.
He didn't have to say anything, but he thought her excuse was weak. Was she weak as well?
Gunning bit her lip, looking away from him. Damn that face, that sad, sadistically sweet face. Her fingers tightened on the whip and she stood up a bit taller. The sharp snap echoed almost as loudly as the yelp it caused.
The whip guided itself for the second strike, and a smirk turned at her lips. The third struck Khev’s chest. She would not admit that she was not using full force for any of them, but the point was made clear.
He grinned, and it was a grin belonging to a predator. He seized the whip, ignoring the pain, (which was, admittedly, on the lowest setting), and took agonizingly slow steps towards her. Then he gave her her 'reward' - and tanned her smartly back with it on the seat of her dress.
The two ensigns were still cringing as their yelps faded; part pain, part pleasure.
Gunning winced, but didn’t make a sound. She just stared at Khev with dark eyes, an evil smirk to counter his grin.
Then he kissed her, and tapped her again. And again. And again. All while he kissed her. Flick and kiss. Flick and kiss. Flick and - snog her senseless.
That seemed to be the price of the ensign's silence - a free show.
They had both completely forgotten about the pain.
First a soft yelp, then a moan, and suddenly Gunning was clinging tightly to Khev, moaning into his kiss with each snap of the whip.
Khev really didn't care about the whip, but he was pleased with Gunning's response. Then he beckoned the girl forward, and gestured that she take it - and imitate the new 'trend' on the boy. She chased him around the bridge, giving Khev and Gunning relative peace.
"See, my love," he murmured, "They're enjoying it."
It seemed the last of the Borg pheromones had worn off.
Mwahahahahahah.
Gunning still hadn’t released her death grip on his tunic, but laughed breathlessly. “You make me want to have children.” It was only half sarcastic.
Turning brilliant blue eyes to him, she growled softly. “I’m never going to be able to sit with you around…”
Gunning cringed slightly, shifting to sit astride his lap, putting as little pressure as she could on her bottom and forcing her skirt to continue covering her properly in such an awkward position.
“Kheeeevvv…” She whined, giving him an adorably pouty face.
"You wanted children..." He smiled, "Never too early to try..."
He lifted her skirt.
Gunning blushed and tried to keep him from lifting it too much. "What are you...?"
"Granting your wish."
By now, the female ensign had pinned down the male one, somewhere behind them.
"My... wish? Oh~"
"What shall we name our daughter? Or will he be a son?"
The grunts and moans, pleads, begs and cries, soft, soft cries and whimpers drowned out any sound the Romulan and Gunning could have made...
"SAY IT!"
"Ye-YES IMPERIAL COMMANDER OF THE EMPIRE!"
"SAY IT LOUDER! SAY MY NAME!"
"YE-YES! IMPERIAL COMMANDER G-G-G-GUNNINGTON OF THE EMPIRE!"
"NOW BEG FOR IT!"
"BEAT ME! PLEASE WHIP ME! I DESER- OH oh- OW!"
Khev smirked.
Gunning grinned for a moment, gasped and nipped at his ear. "You're good at creating monsters..."
"Shall we see how good?"
"MY NAME, SAY MY NAME!"
"IMPERIAL COMMANDER GUNNINGTON OF THE EMPIRE!"
Gunning purred, trying not to laugh at the ensigns behind them. So this was why everyone avoided the night crew...
"Must be nice to be 'adored'," Khev purred in her ear, "Such hero-worship... they'd do anything for you... even cosplay. We should try it sometime... play klingons and tribbles."
"Computer... seal the bridge doors."
"Romulan Overridge Acknowledged: Bridge Doors sealed."
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