Around In Circles

Posted on Fri Sep 14th, 2018 @ 10:59pm by Commander Rita Paris & Lieutenant Commander Sonak

Mission: Holographic Horrors
Location: USS Hera, Deck 12, Outer Ring Corridor
Timeline: 2395

"So let's talk about this. Quarters, change, running togs, Deck 12? It's the new Deck 6," Rita Paris asked her groom on the flight deck of the Hera, practically on the spot they had been reunited.

"I only require a small space to meditate. We will undoubtedly share all the other accommodations and as you already know well, I have no specific requirements that differ from yours; for decades I managed in a desert cavern on the Gol plateau. So simply insure they are convenient and agreeable for you."

"I... no. I meant let's go get suited up and run Deck 12 while we talk. We can cover a few miles while we talk about what sort of ceremony we want. I think there are decisions we need to make. Fair?" Rita was already in motion for the pressure doors that sealed the flight deck off from the interior of the Hera

"Agreed; please chart the course, Lieutenant Commander."

With that, Rita set out at a doubletime pace, speedwalking the decks to the Jeffries tubes. Opening the hatch, she ducked inside, then held it open long enough to confirm that Sonak was at her heels. With practiced ease, the career fleeter gal began smoothly sliding down the tube's access ladders- a trick from the old days that still worked just fine to go down decks in the starship. Most tubes ran for two or three decks before you had to land on a deck and transfer to another tube. But it was still a good way to rapidly locomote through the starship that did not rely on the turbolifts.

Also, it was good cardio and a lot of fun, in Rita's estimation. Sonak tended to enjoy the physical improvisation of working around other crew members who were in the tubes as they passed. Despite the fact that most of the crew was on shore leave, many of the engineers were still hard at work rewiring, repairing rebuilding and rerouting systems while the crew were placing no demands on them. Ducking around them and not disturbing their work added to the physical challenge.

Ducking out on Deck 8, Rita took off at a run to the fore of the starship, turning tight corners and hustling through the ship's corridors. The durable explorer's boots she wore came equipped with highly efficient tread and arch support, and while few would imagine it, she was quite adept at bolting at high speed while wearing them over a variety of terrain. In this case, the improvised parkour of the Jeffries tubes had her blood pumping, and she had stress to burn. Since most of the crew were absent and they were in Officer's Country now, she ran, knowing that Sonak was right there beside her.

With his naturally stronger and hardier Vulcan physique and decades of intense training regimens in martial arts under the harsh desert environment of his homeworld, even the unmatched training of Starfleet had been but a formality to him. Sonak knew Rita challenged herself in trying to match him, and thus often pushed herself harder than was necessary; but far be it for him to attempt to restrain her.

This drive to achieve and outperform herself, always pushing forward to be better while enjoying the simple sensation of being alive, was but one of her most admirable human qualities. Vulcans had adopted a tendency to achieve in a very methodical, paced, gradual way; too ponderous it seemed to him, when the unforeseeable hazards of existence were factored in. Service to Starfleet was a place wherein such hazards were to be found in abundance.

Having been victim to a statistically improbable number of transporter accidents of various natures and results, Rita Paris was the living representation of that philosophy. To Sonak, she was even more than that; a human embodiment of a basic wisdom even some masters had forgotten.

Live your life, because you only have one. You cannot know what it will bring, or when it may end. So live.

This apparently useless running around was thus more than just exercise or her physically venting the pressure of her emotions; it was her taking possession of her existence. In which he joined her- not because of the simple logic of fitness nor to even to be with her and share the activity. For him, it was first and foremost to celebrate her existence.

Because her existence was once again part of his, which changed everything.

Bringing herself up short, Rita paused before the door of their quarters. While she had the door set to open at a range of three meters, that was sufficient for her usual brisk walking pace. Running at top speed, however, it wasn't programmed to react to quite appropriately, so she slowed down as she approached, so she could jog through the door. Once inside she wasted no time, bringing her foot up to knee level so she could grab the chunky-heeled knee boot to expertly slip it off, hopping for a few steps to maintain her balance before switching to stand on her sock-covered foot and repeat the process. Stripping off her socks, she tossed the boots outside the bedroom door.

While her original pair of boots which she had fed the replicator had been broken in, somehow new boots seemed to still need a bit of wearing to make them properly comfortable. Thus Rita tended to try to keep a pair for a week at a time. Sonak had recycled her boots yesterday morning, but after a sprint through the gangways these should be ready for anything, she reasoned.

Striding into the bedroom, in a practiced motion Rita grabbed the hem of her miniskirt, then proceeded to wrestle it over her head. The stretchy velour was forgiving of her physical architecture, the open neck design was a no-brainer and she hadn't zipped one up in years. Her taut abdominal muscles were visible as she did so, her usual soft curves not as evident. It served as a stark illustration of how she had literally withered, pining for Sonak in his absence. A palpable physical toll taken upon her form by her emotional duress. Tossing it into the recycler, she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her scants. Catching her leggings but leaving her panties behind, the leggy lieutenant shucked her remaining outerwear, bending at the waist to step out of them daintily.

"Judging by these proceedings, you now have a different type of physical regimen in mind."

Sonak's deadpan tone made it almost a joke, even if he only understood the concept on an intellectual level. Despite that, he seemed to be getting a knack for it. Some of Rita's human mind echoed in his own to be sure. And thus it so happened that he unconsciously went with the flow of her obvious teasing by doing some of his own. He remained upright and unmoving, not removing even his boots.

Vulcans barely sweated anyway, and only in very extreme conditions, which this little jog was for from equating. His clothes were barely ruffled and still smelled as if they had just come out of the replicator.

While she was determined for them not to become 'that' starship couple who ran off to their quarters for privacy at the drop of a hat, she had to admit that the ticking clock- and whose clock was that, anyway? Screw Maica and her forty-three minutes! It was 10:31, and the ceremony was at 15:00. Whoever thought they died and made the green-skinned gal god had another thing coming. Rita was officially done being bullied by the captain's wife today.

"Stress. I am stressed. I wanted to go run it off while we talked about how we want the ceremony to proceed, but..." Stepping lightly in her uniform underwear and her sock-clad feet, the human woman closed the distance between herself and her Vulcan lover. Reaching out her hand, her fingertips gingerly brushed against his chest.

"It's... harder. I can't hear you the way that I used to, and even when you are close I can only make out impressions, little things. I can only hear you, feel you, when we touch. When we're on duty, I... I miss feeling you there." She looked up at him, blue eyes alight in the morning sun streaming in through the upper viewports in their quarters. "It's not bad, just... different. Because I want to feel you there, I miss feeling you. I know you're there, I know, and on some level maybe I can feel you, but... not like before."

"It makes me want to be closer, moreso when we cannot." Raising her left hand, she brought it to his cheek to stroke his handsome jawline. "We should go run and I should stay on schedule for this event. Because otherwise we become that couple, and I don't want to be that couple. I want... I want..."

I want to be with you. I do not care if it is selfish or childish. I don't want decorum, I don't want appearances. I just want you, she thought firmly, her outward attempt at stoic devotion to duty undermined and betrayed by her own thoughts.

Sonak took her hand in his; a gesture he had learned from her and knew was significant to her, even without the telepathic contact this touch would allow.

"The value of what we have is all the more greater if we have to work harder to share it."

He took her in his arms and brought her to the bed. On the way, he managed to remove his boots using the ball of his feet and heels one against the other while walking. Although he was otherwise still fully clothed, he lay alongside her and kept his eyes on hers and his hands on her head, as much to make sure she would not bump it even against a soft pillow as to invite contact between their minds.

He knew she liked to denude him herself, slowly, while they shared their body warmth and breathing. And so he let her, while sending the calm stillness of his katra to soothe her own heart and soul.

Well, her soul at least; because her heart was beating quite strongly against his.

You could just lie here and be soothed, Rita thought to herself, even as her subconscious mind checked his internal clock to keep track of the timer imposed upon her, to which she was still telling herself she wasn't paying attention. Her pale hands hands roamed across the blue field of his uniform, tracing circular patterns across his form. No... I need activity and we need to talk.

At that she paused, looking up at the somber scientist. "Do we really need to talk though? Enter together, but separate- depart together, hands clasped. We give our vows in turn, the Captain says her words, and then... apparently, we attend a party. That's the extent of our ceremony. No man gives me to you like livestock, as we enter and depart as equals. Do you concur?"

"Affirmative. What we wishto share with others is the fact of our union. But what we have is beyond words. And what we can share can be exchanged from mind to your mind, your thoughts to my thoughts... and they are ours alone."

"Mmmmm, I think we need to make the rest of the universe privy to it, kind of the spirit of the exercise. Although that would be a mean trick to play on the viewing public," Rita snickered as she levered herself up with her arms, then shifted her weight to straddle her One. Bracing her hands on his abdomen, she continued to wage that internal debate. Go for the run. Spend that time here instead doing something more fun and less public.

That was when the realization struck her. It's your life and you are lucky to have it. Stop caring what other people think and satisfy yourself.

The zipper was found on the left shoulder seam of the uniform, and although she was inexperienced with removing a man from this particular model, she was a very fast learner. Tugging and pulling at it, she helped him wrest his left hand free, bringing his fingers up to her lips, even with her other hand she helped as he began to wrestle his right hand free of the constricting garment.

Her heart was beating quite strongly against his indeed.

As she did so, he let the tip of his fingers brush against the nape of her neck, stroking sensitive nerves under the skin and heating the roots of her hair at the base of her skull. The touch was light as a breeze yet the hottness of his dry skin was felt by her own cooler one in small waves that flowed down between her shoulder blades.

And all the while he let the calmness of his mind touch hers.

The life of the adventurous astronaut was a frenetic collage of images and experiences and emotions, often colliding with one another like the waves of the surf, crashing over and over again against the coastline. Yet Sonak’s thoughts were calm and serene, a deep constant below hers that provided a durable and eternal shore against which she could dash her feelings, anxieties and fears. In so many ways he was her rock; the stable and immovable ground that she could reach, which offered a calm oasis amongst her lively and often unpredictable emotions.

Like erosion, he too had been changed by enduring the crashing waves of her emotions over the years. But it had formed him into a better shape, a better individual, for the experience just as he had helped her order her mind and be calm. All the more because he knew, even felt, that the joining of their minds held as much significance for him as that of their bodies did to her.

In this moment, she needed him; thus, he was there for her. The ghost of the 23rd century needed to feel alive, to connect, to be one with the stoic hero she so adored. So he obliged her, as he always did. Sonak received her emotional and physical energy in waves that he surfed upon with all the care of an able aquatic athlete, an experienced surfer who knows how easy it can be for the unwary to drown. But the combination of sensations was firing up his neurons as much as his physical senses, and the experience, as always, was genuinely fascinating to the master of unemotional logic.

Hurling herself against him like the ocean driven by a storm, she crashed upon him until she was spent, at least for now. The serenity that his mind offered was once again something of which she could avail herself, and be calmed once more. Joining with the passionate and lively Human woman was indeed changing him, subtly, slowly, irrevocably. Such change he saw not as a negative, but as an evolutionary state.

As a kolinahr master, he was venturing into uncharted seas. But he was not alone. For he had brought with him a guide, who cared for him more than he cared even for himself. An able navigator who knew these mysterious waters well, who would steer him clear of hazards and threats because she was devoted to him like no other. So different in temperament and philosophy, so genuinely alien he was to her, yet she trusted him implicitly, with even her precious indomitable heart. It was not even unfair to say that she would offer her life before risking his, which was remarkable for him to witness, in defiance of all logic.

But love so often defied logic, it seemed.

As they lay together, limbs entwined, her sweat cooling in the climate-controlled quarters, she debated going for that run all the same, although she realized there was no time left if they were to meet that time limit imposed upon her by the manipulative party planner. They had enough time to shower and change and reappear on the flight deck once more.

Or they could linger a while, and pretend that this day was not about anyone but each another.

As was her way, she chose compromise, as she so often did- always attempting to build bridges, to find a middle ground. It was in no small part what had brought them together, and bridged the gap between their cultures. Rising from the bed, she took his hand to lead him to the shower. After all, they could likely make the meeting time if they showered together, while still satisfying her desire for just a few more stolen moments with her guy. The man whom, in a few hours time, she planned to claim as her own before the universe. Every moment was precious, every touch and glance significant, every sensation to be treasured.

In this, they both agreed.