Kinetic Energy

Posted on Fri Sep 16th, 2022 @ 8:04pm by Cadet First Class Pallas & Captain Callisi Verra

Mission: The Goddess
Location: Callisi’s Quarters
Timeline: Sometime after “Grease Lightning”
6298 words - 12.6 OF Standard Post Measure

After a little consideration and observance of schedules, a hole had appeared in both Callisi's duty roster and the newest Cadet's rotation. This got the rabbitess thinking, since the option of a movie night was threatened, why not make good on that threat. The invitation went out, with the typical Ts'usugi option to bow out gracefully. With her people that was almost reflex, offer a way to say no... without saying no.

The cyclopean Daughter of Ts'usu started to tidy up her quarters in order to properly receive guests. It's not that her room was messy, it just wasn't up to the Ts'usugi's standards for receiving a guest. It wouldn't take too long, really. Soon enough her quarters were ready to receive guests. On the wall, the normally barren expanse were replaced with pictures and photos of her on various missions, on various assignments, on various worlds. Her by an alien designed fighter jet. Her by a drop shuttle of similar aesthetic. Her in a flight jacket. Her at a graduation.

Her with both eyes.

The ones that stood out the most were her in casual attire. Relaxed and comfortable. Some of those pictures were at night, night with a sky with no stars. Scrubbed from the sky to eradicate any presence of where in the cosmos the photo was taken.

That must have been her home. That must have been Ts'usu.

A chime came from the door, alerting Callisi to an arrival. A guest. Outside the door, Cadet Pallas stood first at attention, by default, and then consciously and with some effort made herself relax. This was a social call. No matter that her host was an accomplished fighter pilot from the Delta Quadrant. No matter that the Ts'usugi was a war hero from a completely alien civilization. The cadet told herself that none of that mattered, because that was a social call, they were not on duty, right now Captain Verra was not a senior officer and her superior. She was a social acquaintance, a potential friend. Maybe a fellow 'Outtie.' Also, a movie buff, a cinephile who was to introduce Pallas to that Old Earth, pre-holodeck genre of entertainment. Pallas held in her hands a small potted plant, and she shifted the pot around as she waited at the door, wondering which side of the plant and pot made the best first impression. As such, she was staring at the plant, rather than looking upward, when the door opened.

"My eyes are up here." Callisi said, amused. "I've waited months to say that." she admitted after a moment. Callisi was casually dressed, wearing a simple pair of grey shorts that came to her knees, and a black shirt that had a rather unexpected image on the front. It was a quartet of Ts'usugi, a female and three males, posing in an intimidating fashion, as though ready for a fight. Their garb was dark and foreboding, slick blacks and dark blues, silver fasteners and thin-link chains. Ts'usugi script was above the group, in a powerful and bold font. On her sizable feet she wore comfortable looking slippers. "Welcome. May I address you as Pallas? We're off duty, I want to ensure I'm not stomping on toes." she offered with a soft smile as she stepped back away from the door. "Please come in. That's a lovely plant you have, please, tell me a little about it?" she inquired as she bid her guest to enter.

Pallas laughed as she looked up. "Yes, they are," she smiled as she saw Callisi, referring to her eyes. "And, yes, you may call me Pallas. On-duty, as well, if you'd like; you are the senior officer, after all, and I've noticed that they do that sometimes. Refer to junior officers by name only, I mean. I'm not sure if I'm going to be comfortable calling you by just your name though, sir... not that you offered that. Just, another senior officer requested that I do so when off duty, and it is a bit awkward for me. Makes me wonder, what if I get too comfortable doing it, and then do it when on duty? That seems like it would be... bad. Sort of like rambling." She looked sheepish as she followed the Captain into her quarters, staring down again at the plant. "Ah, this is... a gift. Gifts are sort of strange when you can replicate most things. But in many cultures, you should arrive at a home with a gift, when you are a guest. Especially the first time. This is what humans call a 'cactus.' Apparently it's very easy to take care of; water it a little bit maybe once a month, it basically takes care of itself. Also, it has little needles for self-defense. I thought that was fun." The cadet held out the little cactus, offering it to her host. It was a vibrant, healthy green, with a little yellow flower growing off of one of the branches.

Callisi took the plant off of Pallas' hands with a low nod, "I accept, thank you. It's beautiful." she even tested the barbs of the cactus, and pulled her hand back after confirming they were, in fact, prickly. "Such a beautiful thing, hidden away behind a wall of its own defenses." it reminded her of something. Of someone. "It will flourish here." she found a nice spot to put it, where it wouldn't go unnoticed. "We're off duty, you may call me Callisi or Veera, or Sir. Whichever makes you feel most comfortable. In time, your comfort may change." she started, heading to the replicator on the wall. "Address me however you feel most comfortable, all I ask is that when matters become serious, become the professional you're expected to be."

"And I will afford you the same courtesy." she paused only to type in a pre-programmed selection into the replicator. What came out was a bowl of popcorn, then a bowl of potato chips, and finally a bowl of what looked like chunks of beef jerky. A platter with dipping bowls followed, full of various sauces. "Popcorn and Chips, as is the norm. I prefer some beef chews over popcorn, with a little mild spice to them. Feel free to try anything, or ask for whatever it is you wish. I'll admit I didn't have the chance to clear your preference in snack food, and I'll do better for next time."

As for the drinks, on a small side table there was already a small selection. Sodas, and what looked like a few beers. Terran labels and brands, but none of the megaconglomerate names that survived the fall of capitalism. These were homebrews, it would seem. "I also don't know your tolerance for earth alcohol, not that there's much there to call alcohol. It's all synthetic anyway. As for tonight's entertainment, I have two or three movies from home but they're native. No translation." she admitted. "Otherwise, I have the collected Gladiator entertainment archive. Which is most of Earth's glory days of the tinsel town. Wherever that is." she disregarded with a wave of her hand. This was Callisi casual. Not the veteran. Not the damaged daughter of Ts'usu. She was relaxed around Pallas. Or at least, becoming relaxed.

The cadet looked around the room while Callisi deposited the cactus and set up the snacks. The quarters were immaculate; it was clear that the captain took pride in everything having its place. Various framed photos on the wall gave a visual history of Callisi throughout the years. Pallas by no means knew enough about Ts'usugi or had spent enough time around them to be able to visually identify any signs of aging, but it was clear that these were from earlier in her career. One seemed to be some kind of graduation or commencement ceremony. She looked comfortable.

The Ardanan turned away from the photos, suddenly feeling as though she was intruding on something personal, something that she wasn't sure she had yet earned the trust to access. She looked first at Callisi, who actually did look somewhat comfortable now, as well, though not as much so as in the photos. More so than when they met in the fighter bay, but of course that was work. Then Pallas finally saw the immense spread that her host had laid out. "This is supposed to be for only two people?" Pallas said, her voice tinged with shock. She stopped herself, realizing that she was speaking with many assumptions underlying her thinking. How rude of me, potentially, she chastised herself. For all she knew, this was how much Ts'usugi ate. Or, worse, had Pallas been assuming this whole time that the movie night was just for her and Captain Verra, when in fact others were invited, as well? Pallas could not help herself from blushing, and stood up straighter as she apologized. "I'm very sorry, sir... that was very rude of me. It's a lovely spread." She left out her other concerns, for the moment; stating them might make things worse, if she were, again, wrong about the situation.

Callisi watched Pallas as she glanced around the room, moving from photo to photo, memory to memory, moment to moment. "Those are... before." she commented as the Ardanan turned towards her, as though clarifying the very obvious. She felt foolish doing it, of course it was before. Back then she could properly see, properly be seen. Properly blink.

"I want to give enough so that you can try as much as you wish without thinking of taking away. Not that supply and demand mean anything in a fabricator based society, so a little excess is fine." she replied with a smirk. "And think nothing of it. You're a guest, we accommodate our guests."

She went to the wall monitor and pulled up the extensive list of cinema hosted on the Gladiator server. "Ugh, if you ever wonder why the ship's systems are slow to respond, here's why." she complained in humor. Movie after movie, genre after genre. Her personal collection? Three. The Gladiator's public collection? Thousands.

For a brief moment, Callisi's attention was caught by her own picture. Her in a flight jacket on an alien world, a purple sky, and stars. That picture was allowed to keep its stars. Her glance lingered for a moment, remembering, before she turned away, looking through the list, then looking over at Pallas. "Help yourself, please. It's just us, so feel free to sample anything. If you want something else, it's easy enough to fabricate."

"This is perfect," the cadet assured her. Of course replicators meant that they didn't have to worry about waste. And it would be part of Ts'usugi culture to be a generous host; that vibed with what little Pallas had learned, both at the Academy and in her short history so far with Captain Verra. It was simply that the pre-replicator years of Pallas's childhood had ingrained in her an eye for excess that she would probably never shake. But at least for the moment, Callisi's reassurance allowed her blush to fade. She studied her host again, catching her eyes flickering to one of the pictures on the wall. "Do you miss it? The home sectors?" Pallas asked, ignoring most of the spread for the moment but spying a familiar soft drink that the humans called ginger beer. She picked it up, enjoying the satisfying fizzing pop noise as the metal top came off, and took a sip. A familiar taste, reminding her of exploring Earth and all its culinary wonders.

"Yes and no." the rabbitess replied, moving across the way to pick up a bottle of a more conventional beer, rather than the ginger beer that attracted Pallas' attention. "I miss home, but wherever I go, I bring home with me. Ts'usu is here." she motioned around her. "Some bring a plant, a rock, a piece of art. The bigger ships in our fleet have rock gardens, while they said Fleetmaster Daisan Goki's supercarrier, the Oblivion Midnight, has an entire tree growing in the mess." she sounded hopeful. Probably never saw it personally. "Wherever we go, Ts'usu is there with us. Whenever an enemy attacks us, they aren't attacking a ship, or a carrier, or a division... they're attacking Ts'usu."

"Do I miss home? Yes. Do I miss BEING home? No." she shook her head gently. "I don't miss being looked at. After everything I did for the Empire, all I am to them is an injury, a mark, a scar. We place too high a mark on the familiar, the expected, the... the accepted." she shook her head again. "Here in the far sectors, things are far more relaxed. Hell, I had a bit of a crush on the XO and thought he had one on me too. Turns out, I read that situation entirely wrong." she softly smiled, despite the topic.

"I showed up in a dress and everything. Me! In a dress!" she sounded like she didn't believe it, either. "But, we laughed, and moved on. Watched a few sessions of Kinetic and just enjoyed the company of a friend." a sip, "Keeping that dress though. Never know. And THAT'S something I appreciate about life out here in the far sectors, that level of familiarity. On an Imperial battleship we'd never have this. There'd be no chatting, no off-duty friendships, no romance. We have our duty, and that's all."

"But here, we have such familiarity, such comradery. We can have movie night, we can have a crush on our XO that doesn't cripple our career." she remarked, "That, I enjoy. We're allowed to be foolish, to be casual, when time permits. I enjoy... I enjoy THIS." she motioned with her bottle to the space between herself and Pallas. "But, I miss home. I miss the way the the stars came out in midday when Ts'usu moved the home moons into eclipse. I miss the Tattletail fields. There, I said it. I miss the Tattletails." she actually giggled.

"I miss home. I just don't miss the people that I'd be sharing home with."

"Carrying home around with you, into space, is a beautiful concept. I see the underlying appeal of it," Pallas shared, "but as an Ardanan, there wasn't that much of home that felt like it should be carried beyond our world. It would take much more time and much more recovery before it has anything worthy of offering to the stars. But, speaking of differences between our worlds... is wearing a dress not common for your people? It is a rather regular form of attire on Ardana." Despite this statement, the cadet was not in a dress at this time. She was dressed in the casual attire that was popular among Starfleet cadets at the moment: light tan high-waisted, loose synthetic culotte trousers ending just below the knees, a tight fitting white cotton top that bared her midriff, and a comfortable light blue cardigan. It was very casual, a far cry from the stiff formality of Starfleet uniforms.

The comment about having a crush on the XO was not lost on Pallas, but somehow the statement about the dress and the relative freedom of Starfleet seemed more fitting a continuation of the conversation.

Callisi offered a soft smile. "Then you have something to strive for, something to look forward to. You have a goal, your people that is. Make your world beautiful, to bring with and share with the cosmos. Just be prepared to guard it. The universe sometimes takes an invitation to share as an invitation to take."

"Now, as for the dress." Callisi got a little introverted for a moment. "It, well, for starters it didn't have a back. It was less of a garment and more, I suppose, weaponized attire." she took a breath. She started this route, time to finish it.

"I was concerned that he may be the target of affection for others on the ship, so I wanted to make an impression that would, well, put all of them in second consideration." she admitted. "it was a cruel thing to consider, but I didn't go there to play, I went there to win." a pause, "Turns out, there wasn't even a game. We solidified our relationship, set boundaries, and then retired for the evening with some sports before we parted ways."

"I don't mind. I'd rather know for certain then be kept guessing." she took another sip. "Now, wearing a dress is common enough among the daughters of Ts'usu, and a few of the sons I should say. I prefer to wear more utilitarian attire when I have to, and if I'm not impressing anyone, well.."

She motioned to herself and her current attire. A musical band t-shirt and some comfy leggings. "Comfort above all."

"'Weaponized attire,' hm? I think I would like to see that sometime," Pallas mused, before catching herself. "Ah, sorry, sir. That was maybe inappropriate. I simply meant that it sounds impressive. I have maybe an idea of what you mean; we had a formal dance at the Academy, some of the cadets chose to wear dresses. Some of them were less 'dress' and more 'undress.' It certainly had a strong effect on everyone who saw them. I'm with you on the comfort, though," she grinned as she stretched her arms open. Even though Starfleet uniforms were designed for utility, civilian clothes still felt looser, easier to move in. "Retiring for the evening with sports is an interesting way to end a date. Was it challenging, in the dress?"

Oh, that amused her. Callisi snorted at first, then giggled. It was a sound unconfined, released and free to roam. It might have been the most honest laugh she had unleashed in a long time, maybe even years. "Oh, oh no no, no no I ... I'm sorry I.." she took a moment o compose herself. "We watched sports. I ... I have a collection of seasons of a sport from back h... home." she took yet another moment to compose herself. "I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make it... make it sound like we did sports while I was wearing a dress."

She took a final moment to get her diaphragm under control. "Okay, okay... phew. Thank you, I ... I can't remember the last time I laughed like that. No, no sorry. There's a sport back home called Kinetic. I'm a very big fan of it, but getting copies of it approved for export is a time consuming process. So I'm about three seasons behind. I introduced the XO to the sport and he took to it quick."

She took the moment to replay the beginning of the statement over in her head. "And yes, comfort above all." she held out her half-drunk beer, "To comfort." and after the clink, she took a swig. That was ceremony there. "Would you like to see a game or two?"

Pallas couldn’t help but joining in the laughter, even before she fully realized the misunderstanding. It was good to see Callisi laugh; even in the short time she has known her, Pallas had picked up on the walls that were built up around the captain’s internal self. The cadet could sense it because it was easy to see something that one also has in place. She drank her ginger beer again, savoring the slight burn of the potent root, and then nodded. “I would be honored to see it. And more so honored if you will explain everything to me in detail as if it is the first time I’ve ever seen this sport,” she winked. While any archival study was of particular interest to Pallas, she had largely written off Earth movies during her time on that planet; and so while she had been open to it, she also was much more excited to see a new side of Ts’usugi culture that likely not many in this Quadrant had seen before.

That seemed to decide it. Callisi went over to the wall terminal and made a few selections, bringing up a different media folder. Rather than two or three full movies, the search brought up dozens of results. Individual matches sorted by the season. "Okay, so Kinetic is played in a stadium that they only repair between seasons. That'll make more sense in a bit." she started. "Figured I'd explain the basis beforehand, so I don't talk over the announcer." she smirked.

"Kinetic is played in an arena with a ball that hovers at about chest height. It moves straight around the arena, bouncing off of whatever it hits. Be that a wall, a pillar, a hand for a pass, or a defender. The trick is the ball doesn't *lose* kinetic momentum when it hits something, it retains it. Every hit, every slap, every bounce just builds up more and more inertia. The only way to stop the ball is to score. At each end of the arena there is a podium with a ring over it. Pass the ball through the ring, and it saps the ball of its momentum and banks it. The first team to pop their opponent's bank by overcharging it is declared the winner."

"And that's the game. Welcome to Kinetic, Pallas, where the first law is the only law." she said with a smirk, man did it sound cheesy to say out loud. After delivering such a silly line, Callisi queued up the first match of a season. The image shown was of an arena. Pillars, bunkers, it looked like something you'd see on a war table planning for an invasion. The voiceover was very dramatic, possibly telling the story of the scene. If Callisi had not just spoiled that this was a sporting event, one could think this was a documentary or a historical rendition with the serious tone of the announcer. Naturally the audio was in Ts'usubito, the language of her people, and what a beautiful language it was to hear. Music started to build as the camera swept through the various topography of the arena until it reached a crescendo as it approached one of the aforementioned podiums. The stadium lights started to build, the area went from a dark overtone to a more illuminated look. Soon, the power feed reached the arena itself and the podium came to light. A ring of blue haze appeared over the podium, and that's when the entire arena exploded with emotion, as the voiceover went from calm and collected to cosmic bananas. He declared in a voice that has been holding back their enthusiasm for the past twenty years with two simple words:

YOKOSO KINETIC!

Music came up, and some neon infused script appeared on the screen as the camera panned back to get the crowd who were, by all accounts, just as excited. The announcer continued, welcoming the viewers back and even showing some highlights from the last season, where Pallas got to see the extent of what the arena went through prior. Scenes were shown of the ball, as Callisi described it, zipping around the arena at a breakneck pace, slamming into walls and pillars and leaving impact craters in them as it bounced off. Defenders jumping in the path of a goal, attackers swinging padded hands and arms at the ball to deflect it. The highlight reel showed only the best moments, but at one point it focused on something in the corner of the display, a series of characters that were changing. Counting. A timer.

"Last season, the championship match took an HOUR." she explained. "The arena took such a beating that the on site medical team declared it legally deceased." she giggled, "So, traditionally the captains each get a piece of the arena to take home until next season, but that season the captains auctioned their pieces off on the extranet to raise money for a Dalacari charity. The amount they raised was *staggering*." she continued as she took a seat. "Sit, there's a lot to go over before the match."

Pallas was so enthralled by just this opening and the highlight real that she collapsed into the sofa without taking her eyes off the screen. In doing so, she ended up much closer next to Callisi than she would have thought appropriate had she been paying attention. They were not touching, but had the hype of this newfound sport not so quickly and fully distracted the cadet, the proximity would have been impossible to ignore. “Incredible,” she managed to say as she watched in awe. “My sport is boxing, and it’s fast, I have to be fast to not get knocked around, but that’s a small range I’m watching and a single opponent, and the opponent gets slower, not faster, as the fight goes on. The concentration that must be required, the understanding of the physics and geometry alone… it’s staggering.”

Callisi didn't feel nervous or concerned about their proximity. At least, she didn't show it. A sign of comfort, of becoming friends. Friends was something she certainly needed more of. "Kinetic pros often get recruited as fighter pilots due to their reflexes, but make no mistake, folks get hurt playing this." she leaned forward a bit along with Pallas, getting into the moment of the sport. "It's hard to break Ts'usugi bones, but knocking teeth out is easy. The All Star champion team captain a few years back, three years running, was Sabin Dirata the Grimgrin. Took a shot right to his face and knocked out four of his teeth. Four!" she got a bit caught up in the moment, the memory. "Won the game, but refused to have the teeth fixed. Wore that snaggled grin for the rest of his career. Now he's a guest commenta-- That's him, right there." she motioned to the Ts'usugi sitting next to the announcer. A handsome fellow, to be certain, but it was obvious where his ego was. That grin of his could curdle paint. But he wore it like a trademark, really. It even made Callisi cringe, and considering the things she must have seen...

"The ball's capped at a certain speed for exhibitions, then raised a little for qualifiers, and then raised to the safety cap for championship matches. It's brutal, but you gotta think fast and move faster. Keeps you on your toes." she said, wagging a foot for emphasis. "So, boxing? That's the gloves and the square arena with the bouncy ropes, right? Sounds like a fantastic way to work out stress." she opted.

She turned to face Pallas, only now aware of their proximity, but again she didn't shy away. Didn't turn or slide away. Pallas chose this spot, so this is her comfort zone. Who was she to judge another? "There's a lot of science and math and thinking involved in so many of the various sports and entertainments from across the cosmos." a pause, "Except for the Dalacari. They have their drones play the sports, and they watch the drones. Too dangerous. Someone might get hurt." she said, almost dismissively. She understood their unique plight, but at the same time.

"As for the Slate, I saw their... *ahem*... pasttime once. It's six teams of two, and everyone has two colored balls. A smaller ball is thrown out onto a field, and the objective is to roll your ball so that it's the closest to the smaller ball without touching it." she described it before shaking her head. "I guess they like the way the rolling balls rumble or something. Too slow for my taste."

“How does that all work, then?” Pallas was stuck on the earlier comment about the commentator. “The Grimgrin, you called him? I thought your people had an issue with visible physical difference… how does that track with him not getting his teeth fixed and everyone apparently being okay with him being a public figure? He loses four teeth playing a game and they cheer him on. Meanwhile, you are a war hero, you gave up an eye to save actual lives, and you are shamed? I know it isn’t my place to say this, sir, as an outsider, but it seems unfair. Not just that, but it doesn’t really make sense just from a purely aesthetic standpoint; compared to him, but also generally, how can others look at you and think less of you when you’re absolutely…” As she was finishing the thought, Pallas tore her eyes away from the screen, turning to look at her host, as was the polite thing to do given that she was talking about her appearance. It was only as she was turning, and the final word was already leaving her mouth, that the cadet realized just how close to Callisi she sitting, her hand brushing and then coming to rest on the captain’s arm. “…beautiful.”

The contact caused something of a spark. Not a physical spark like static or a shock, but more of a sudden realization of the moment. Callisi didn't move to remove the hand, nor did she move to take it in her own. She just simply allowed the touch to happen. Touch. Such a simple thing. The rabbitess' breath caught for a moment, her arm warm to the touch. Warm and soft, as one would expect. Soft fur tickled the fingers, and rested gently against the palm.

"He's a famous sports icon. He's supposed to get hurt. Service is... is expected. I'm only a hero outside of the .. the Empire. And to the .. the troops I served with." she clarified, but then looked back up at her. "Y... you think me beautiful?" Callisi asked, in a hush.

As much as Pallas had blushed earlier, perhaps unnoticed, her face now obviously blanched. The thoughts ran through her head at Warp 10, foremost among them: Oh no, oh no, oh no… did I just sexually harassed a superior officer?!?! Am I about to get kicked out of Starfleet? What the hell are you thinking, Pallas… someone offers to actually be a friend to you and show you their Delta Quadrant sport and you… wait why is my hand there? Ohhhh now I’ve really gone and done it, haven’t I?…

The cadet shot up out of her seat like, well, like a Kinetic ball maybe, and into an at-attention stance. She even began to salute before awkwardly forcing her arm down. “Yes, sir! I mean, oh my earth, I am… I am so sorry, Captain Verra! That was, so inappropriate of me, I don’t know what I was thinking… well that’s not exactly true, I wasn’t thinking, and I’m aware of that, I just… maybe I should….” Pallas turned quickly to leave, except instead of turning toward the doorway, as flustered and mortified as she was she turned directly into the snack table that Callisi had set up and, in a futile attempt to stop her momentum did a sort of flailing side step completely lacking the grace of an Academy stand out athlete. Instead, her motion just added some diagonal to her fall, causing her sweep a mass of beer, soda, chips, popcorn, pretzels and other snacks both together, into her clothing, up into the air, toward the view screen where much more agile athletes were dodging things instead of running into them, and, an inconsequential silver lining, only a tiny bit toward the host and the couch.

Callisi's expression turned from soft and pleasant, adoring perhaps, to a little harder at the turn. No, the Daughter of Ts'usu initially thought. No she doesn't. But then why did she say yes? "There's no ne..." but by then, the calamity had begun. The avalanche of chips, little seasoned meat bits, sauces, and drinks had already started to fall by the time Callisi got her feet under her. Pallas was already on the floor and the impact was complete. The spread was a spread, alright. Thrown three ways to the moons. The rabbitess padded her way over to Pallas' side quickly, unconcerned with what she stepped in, and knelt next to her.

"Are you alright? I... I'm sorry, about that." she apologized down to the cadet, offering a hand to stabilize her in the world, and possibly help her stand. Looming above the cadet on the floor like an idol or a movie monster. Certainly one of the curvier movie monsters.

“Oh no!!!” Pallas panicked as she saw the massive mess she had made of Callisi’s previously spotless quarters. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I can fix it, these just need to go back in bowls,” she began reassuring herself as, with shaking hands and still on the ground, she grabbed the closest upturned serving dish—from which a good number of small coated chocolates spilled out, clattering across the tabletop like hail on a roof—and began to haphazardly shovel a mix of appetizers and side dishes into the bowl. It took a moment before she realized that Callisi had gotten up and was standing over her. Seeing the captain standing there in clean, comfortable clothing, still poised and offering out her hand in assistance, Pallas’s face relaxed for a moment. Callisi’s face looked concerned, not upset. She isn’t hurt, Pallas thought to herself, She just is worried about me, it is going to be okay after all!…

The reassuring thought might have stuck, but Pallas suddenly realized that the other side of Callisi being concerned was that there was something to be concerned about. She looked down at herself and understood: she was an absolute mess. Her white top and light cardigan were both soaked through with soda and beer, technicolor with red spices, orange and blue candies, browns and blacks of smeared chocolate and crackers. Her culotte trousers were torn on one side and equally decorated, and somehow well above her knee now, showing off popcorn and chip adorned thighs. Pallas could not see her own hair, and was endlessly thankful for that. “I… I…” She could not even begin to imagine words large enough to account for everything going on in her head. "I ...”

And then Pallas started to hiccup.

When she opened her mouth again, ready to apologize for the enormous mess that she had made, a hiccup cut her off. “Sir, I am so so…*hiccup*… I am… *hiccup* … I*hiccup*…” Tears began to well up in Pallas’s eyes. She looked at Callisi, standing there, and she could only see pity. And those old feelings came back, and she was a toddler again looking up with tears in her eyes at this towering hero over her and she felt the pity. So she did the only thing that made sense to her in the moment.

She got up and ran. She would later recall having told Aarfa that she could run 35 km/h for a few seconds at full tilt, but the way she felt in that desperate moment, she wouldn’t have be surprised if someone told her she had actually been going twice that. With detritus flying off of her, the now crimson faced cadet flew straight for the exit, nearly slamming into it as it opened more slowly than her approaching velocity, before making a sharp exit and down the corridor.

Callisi had a soft smile on her features as she started to appreciate the moment, but then the moment shifted. Tears. The crimson features of her guest's face were now stained with tears. Something was wrong. Dreadfully wrong. Was she in pain? Did she hurt herself? Before the cyclopean rabbitess had a chance to really process what was happening Pallas was already on her feet and moving at speed to the door. By the time the officer was back on her feet and moving towards the door she was gone. Callisi spent all the time to stand, to make amends, and then it all just came crashing down. She slumped to the floor, unconcerned that she had just sat in something. The room wasn't the only thing here that was a mess.

Pallas' features were marred by her tears, and now a single trench of dampened fur was developing under the pilot's remaining good eye. She hugged herself tight and in solitude, let down every one of her defenses. The halls were empty from the hour, so no one was around to hear the singular sob that escaped the room before the door closed.

Beautiful. Concerned. Intrigued. Honest. Words that carried a ton of meaning each, spoken to her by two people in hardly the span of a few days. She was so foolish, so desperate to be loved, to be pursued, to be wanted. She practically sat in Pallas' lap on the couch, how else was the Cadet going to react? She'd apologize later, but the sheer thought of an apology never entered her mind now. It was a swirl of everything that had gone wrong, everything she did wrong. Everything. With no one there to see the fall of the pilot, she was able to do the one thing she never could: She cried.

And Pallas had brought her such a lovely gift too. A cactus, a beautiful plant with the most adorable flower and the simplest of desires. Pay me attention, occasionally. But don't get too close, or I'll wind up hurting you. Pallas came into these quarters with such hopes and dreams and stars in her eyes. When she left, the only thing remaining in those eyes were tears.

Right now, it felt like the perfect gift.