A Walk on the Edge, Part 1

Posted on Thu Sep 28th, 2023 @ 12:50am by Cadet First Class Pallas & Captain Callisi Verra

Mission: Memphis Island
Location: Memphis Island - Guest Quarters
Timeline: Shoreleave
1892 words - 3.8 OF Standard Post Measure

Callisi almost didn't know how to dress casual. Her people were used to a nice climate but it was a little warm here for her tastes. She was sporting a pair of shorts that went down to about the knees, and opted for sandals for the open look. A simple white shirt, and a flight jacket, completed the look for the cyclopean rabbitess as she stood in front of a door. A simple door.

Pallas' door.

With a breath in her throat she took a moment, and then pressed the chime to announce her presence.

"Come in," Pallas said, her own breath in her throat as she tried not to trip over the long sheer blue sarong that she wore over her white bikini bottoms. Ardana was a hot planet, but not a beach planet, and the idea of "beach wear" was something she had only learned about from Starfleet holos. She had stared at them, mouth agape, to the great amusement of the engineers who she had trailed around endlessly in her youth. Then-Ensign Suvol had acted like it was just to get the young Pallas to stop harassing them with questions, but even she had been amused by the way the Ardanan had soaked in all the pictures of far off places, like the mythical Spanish Riviera of Earth. She greeted Callisi as the door opened with a nervous smile and a pair of blended frozen beverages, one in each hand. "Hello... captain," she managed to say without an ounce of grace, threatening to keep alive her streak of awkward or ruined encounters. "I mean, Callisi," she somehow managed to correct herself. "I apologize. I do not know why I am so nervous. Here," she said handing the Ts'usugi ace one of the tall curved glasses, before calming herself by leaning forward and pressing warm forehead against Callisi's. Feeling the tension release from her neck and shoulders with the contact, and feeling confident the crisis had been averted, she managed a smile. "I am glad you are here," Pallas said.

The drink caught the cyclops by surprise, but that all melted away at the touch. The contact. Such a simple thing, to be in direct contact with another, especially one that was held in such high regard. Nothing else mattered. This moment, this singular instance here and now, was paragon among all others. Wars raged across the cosmos for the right to be half as important as this moment.

"There's nowhere I'd rather be." she responded after a moment. "Thank you for the.." she regarded the curved glass out of the corner of her eye, going through lengths to avoid breaking the moment. "... drink. It looks adventurous." she complimented. "I wanted to know if you were available. I was going to take a walk by the cliffside where the hangar bay is. From there, I considered a walk along the beach, and was wondering if you would want to join." she offered, "I understand that we don't have much time before we have to ship out again, and I should have made these arrangements with you. If the timing is poor, I understand." Ts'usugi had this knack for social graces. They'd impose the world on you, and then in the next breath give you what humanity often referred to as 'A Way Out'. The means to bow out of a social gathering, with grace and dignity.

Even one as broken and scarred as her. Even one that, by the graces of her own society, was damaged... to still have that grained in. How much of that was drilled into her?

"I, also, wanted you to have this." she broke the contact of their touch long enough to indicate her flight jacket. Patches of various conflicts, written in a tongue none spoke. Vibrant colors, daring imagery, an outer fabric somewhere between leather and plastic, and an inner lining somewhere between cotton and a cloud and.... a scent. Familiar. Comforting, perhaps. Pleasant, perhaps more.

It smelled of her.

"For the times apart."

The multiple questions and comments to react to swirled around Pallas's head like very quick, distracting hummingbirds, fluttering about as she attempted to hold on to each of them and respond in turn. "If you had not gotten here first to ask me to spend time with you, I was on my way to find you with these, er, 'adventurous' drinks. They are called 'piña coladas' and, according to humans, are appropriate for this type of climate. So yes to your first question, yes to your second question, and no to your implied question as to whether your timing is poor. As I can always expect of my favorite fighter pilot, your timing is exactly on target."

"And as to this," the cadet's eyes had already been wide and bright upon seeing Callisi, but stretched ever slightly so much more open as she took in the precious, priceless symbol of affection being offered. "I cannot even begin to fathom what this means to you. Are you certain?"

A sampling of the beverage, and a shiver. Seems the pilot liked it. "Such a peculiar flavor." she regarded the curvy glass again, with renewed curiosity. "I think I like it." she offered, and sampled another sip to confirm. Yes. Yes she did. "Favorite fighter pilot." she repeated the words, and a soft smile spread across her features. "And you, my dear officer to be, will always be on my mind, and in my heart. Something to think of on the missions away. A reason to return home."

"As for the flight jacket, to me, it's a symbol of a commitment. An obligation to honor. To uphold." she offered it again, gently. Not to entice or convince, but to show that this was a gift truly given. "And I offer it, as a symbol. A sign." she smiled softly, honestly. It was a rare sight, and one she seemed to only share with Pallas. "It's not a wedding band or a contract. Just a notion that, as committed as I am to the Navy. To Starfleet. To the mission... I am to you. To us."

Pallas caught the unexpected smile and her heart fluttered. "Those are towering words. If I could stand on them, I would look down on Stratos," she said softly. She pulled the jacket liner to her face and inhaled deeply. "I will keep it safe, as you keep me safe. All of us, I mean. The collective 'me'?" The cadet laughed lightly at her own uncharacteristic failure to articulate. "I do not think I get tongue twisted other than around you, Callisi," she admitted.

"Would you be insulted if I made a suggestion that my acceptance of your flight jacket is not permanent?" Pallas ventured, even as she slipped her arms through the sleeves. They were just a little long on the cadet, which she was very much enjoying. It felt as though she was being embraced by Callisi herself. "Not because I doubt your word, or your commitment. If I had to guess, I likely never will. But, selfishly, I have nothing to give you in return... and so maybe if I wear it until you return from your next mission, when you don it next, you will be enveloped in the smell of me. And you will know that I kept my word, and wore it. And then, if you still feel the same way, you can lend it to me again before you go on your next mission."

The unplanned outfit was surprising, but not unflattering on Pallas. She did a little twirl for the captain, the jacket flaring out along with the sarong, showing off the bare skin and white two-piece underneath. "How do I look?" she grinned.

It took a moment or two for Callisi to find the right words, and then instead opted to try something new, and just speak her mind. "You look fantastic." it was a bit of a departure from her norm, speaking so directly. But she liked it.

"I have to admit, I rather enjoy the notion of a travelling jacket. A symbol, passed from those who have it to those who need it most. An..... oh what is that quaint Terran expression.... an emotional support jacket?" she offered with a slightly tilted head, one hand on her hip and the other on her chin in thought. "Terrans are so unusual, especially in their terms." she smiled softly.

"As for tongue twisted, that's just the nature of the Children of Ts'usu. We can spend hours talking about paperwork, or gloss over a supernova. The words, the tone, the phrasing... I must admit that I found the, to say, directness of the talk of the Federation a bit of a challenge at first. Imagine, just saying what you meant. Imagine, no options in the event of a conflict." she spoke, oh the horror of it all.

"But, I found that after a while, I grew to appreciate it. Not having to carry a shovel around to dig up what someone means is mentally relaxing." A pause, as she gently reached over to put a soft hand on Pallas' cheek. "And you need not give me anything. A gift doesn't demand a response. I offered it to you so you could have it, not to see what you'd barter for." the smile lingered. "But I respect your approach."

"Then it is a deal. And a date," Pallas drew close to Callisi again, taking her free hand as she again pressed her forehead against the soft fur above the captain's eyes. "You do know, Callisi, that they way that you can spend hours talking about minutiae is exactly what first attracted me to you? In the fighter hanger bay, working on putting your squadron back together. I can still recall each detail of that conversation. Not just talking about currency in the home sectors. The way you spoke--I apologize if I am projecting something that was not there--but it seemed to me... lovingly about the fighters, the parts we scrapped and replicated. All of it."

Another moment of contact. Another touch. Something so simple to others was so profound for Callisi. So relaxing. So calming. The worries of the world would melt away. "Then for you, I'll gladly talk." she offered softly. "About anything I'm allowed to." a pause, to give that moment the weight it deserved, "And well, as a pilot those craft are very special to me. Even when I was taken off assault duty and moved to troop transport I didn't think it dishonor. I was in charge of the lives of others, directly. Such a thing, I have to keep in my heart."

Even if doing so is what broke her.

"We'll never make it to the cliffs at this rate." her tone had zero urgency in it. "Not that I mind."

If there was any sign of Callisi's regrets from the past, they were lost on the smitten cadet. Pallas actually giggled, squeezed the captain's hand before pivoting her head and body away without letting go, pulling both of them toward the door. "I would not mind, either, usually. But grand promises were made about a cliffside, hangar bay, and beach, and I cannot miss the opportunity to explore all three with you."

TO BE CONTINUED