Unlucky

Posted on Tue Jul 24th, 2018 @ 2:00am by Commander Rita Paris

Mission: Holographic Horrors
Location: USS Hera, Deck 8, Lieutenant Paris' Quarters
Timeline: 2395, en route to Artan Fortress

As she stepped into the sonic shower, Rita Paris took time to review her life of late. It looked almost like her perennial streak of bad luck might just be turning around.

Alienated and not making a lot of headway fitting into the crew, a come-on from the captain had combined with the fact that the woman had most definitely represented herself as something other than Starfleet, had all come together to end with Rita trying to figure out slingshot calculations and a ship to do it in. Which apparently she had chosen poorly, and the runabout she had planned to steal for the maneuver wouldn’t have survived the trip anyway. Most likely she would have been splattered on the windshield of the universe.

So, Rita was counting that one as a check in the win category.

The Captain had gotten the idea that her resident lost navigator was freaking out, and whether or not she knew the desperate measures Rita had been considering, she had sought her out and cleared the air. Which went a long ways toward easing the neurotic mind of the pretty pilot. Knowing that the ship and captain were full-fledged Starfleet helped, knowing the Captain realized that she’d backed Rita into a corner helped, and knowing that she recognized Rita’s contributions since coming aboard all worked together to alleviate the dread the all-too-human woman had been feeling.

There was the possibility that they would be able to send her communicator home, back to her own dimension and time, so that her ship and superiors would know what happened to the 2268 era Starfleet officer. To know not to grieve for her, because she was alive, if not completely well. A message in a bottle, it would give the Exeter time, space and chronal coordinates. While she knew the impracticality of the crew actually finding a way to rescue her, in her heart of hearts she could not stop hoping that somehow the somber Vulcan scientist would find a way. The odds were astronomically stacked against it, but her faith in the grey-eyed kolinahr was hard to shake.

For now, she was making strides. Her position on the Hera was secure- the Captain recognized that she was a gal who got things done, and that while she was struggling, Rita Paris would adapt, overcome and survive. It was obvious that the captain was attracted to her, which was an unusual predicament in which for Rita to find herself. Only because the starship captain was a lady- every starship captain she'd ever served under had warmed to her quickly, and that had turned to overtures. But the captain and her wife were nice, and Rita felt as though the captain would respect her boundaries now. Flirtation was something with which she was both familiar and comfortable, and she'd cheerfully flirt with the captain off duty. She herself had escalated that a bit, and the plucky explorer felt confident in her choice. Better to keep the captain and her wife from fighting, particularly over her. Not if she planned to make her home here on this starfaring palace of technological wonders.

If no one came to rescue her, Rita knew without a doubt that she would fall into a relationship quickly. Years in a deep and intense relationship with the last kolinahr had left her ill-equipped to be alone, and she knew with a certain fatality that she would find someone to fill the void of a warm body next to hers. Loneliness could literally kill her, separated as she was from the love of her life. Already she had made rash choices that demonstrated to her that she could ill afford to try to be stoic and stand alone. It simply wasn’t in her any more, if indeed it ever was.

But in the here and now, life was good. They’d be docking at the Space Fortress soon, and she’d be handling the docking procedures, overseen by her assistant chief who was gladly showing her the ropes. Mona Gonadie simply loved to fly, but the rest of the flight control chief’s job was nothing she wanted anything to do with. Since Rita now handled all of the paperwork, freeing Ensign Gonadie up with a wealth of free time, she had no compunction about tutoring her boss from a century ago on how to pilot the mighty hybrid vessel. Or any other vessel. The two of them weren’t quite friends yet, but Rita liked the colorfully-plumed avian alien aviatrix. They seemed to work well together, and she valued the young officer’s insight and input.

Life was better. It wasn’t perfect, but it was pretty good, and the future had actually started to look brighter to her. Rita was excited to see the pirate compound and she looked forward to the missions yet to come, the crisis that were yet to erupt. So far the crew had tried to kill her, then the ship itself had tried to kill her multiple times. Which meant that the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Unlucky she might be, but things were turning around for Rita Paris.

Which was when she walked out of the shower to discover that the captain’s wife had stayed behind to clean up, causing Rita to duck back into the shower to find a towel to cover herself.

Life might be getting better, but Rita Paris remained predictably unlucky.