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Nobody's Fool

[Joint log, Nijil and Jylliene]


SD 2387.178, evening.


At the table, Jylliene sat eating dinner. Nijil should be back anytime; she heard that he was inbound from the trial run of the shuttle. She had a plate ready for him as well. She had dressed up a bit, and was glad she had thought to take one of her dresses. If this was to be the last night before he took the shuttle out for the mission, then, she wanted this night to be at least a bit special.


Usually, Nijil would insist on checking out the shuttle after a run, but not this time. The mission called for this level of attention, but something, or someone else did too. Leaving the shuttle checks to others he rushed back to his quarters. A ship this size meant getting there in only a few moments. After only those moments he stood at his door, nearly walked right in, but thought otherwise.


The chime rang. Jylliene looked up, and replied, “Enter.”


“Are you decent?” Nijil asked with a grin, happy to be back. He looked for her.


Laughing quietly, she replied. “As tempting as it would have been, I think it would have been disastrous for our agreement not to be. Dinner,” she said, gesturing to the table.


Flight weary, the engineer gleamed. “Is that the ship special I see?” He walked over to the empty seat and sat. “I ran back as fast as I could.”


“Of course,” she said, grinning.


“Oh, it looks delicious. I’ve only had one ‘nutrition’ bar all day.” He looked up, matching her grin. “I’m still wired from my flight. On edge on the bridge today?”


“Oddly calm. I think everyone coming to terms with things...plans and such. Somber.”


Picking up his knife and fork, he replied, “No anticipation of an explosion as I drive the shuttle into the side of an asteroid? Not even close today. Felt great being out there.”


Jylliene could definitely see the glow to him. “Flying seems to agree with you. I’ve not seen you this happy in a while.”


“You,” pointing a fork at her, “Don’t know half of it and don’t get me started on the thrill of low altitude atmospheric flight. Clears the mind. I’ll have to take you out sometime. Unless you are afraid of heights plus speed,” he remarked with a slight evil smirk.


She chuckled. “I’d love to go on out sometime.”


“You’d love it.” Nijil drank a good helping from his glass. “Mmmm, this is good, what is it?”


“A tea infused with a light mead. Had to bring it in from Aegis. One of the barkeeps acquired it for me.” Jylliene grinned. “It IS good,” she added, and ate a bit more of her meal.


“This makes the special a bit more, special. Though I’m surprised this is not synthohol, given the mission.” He too ate.


“It’s a very light wine. Low content. Far less than the ale, especially once you mix it with tea as well.” She continued eating. “Do you think you’re prepared for tomorrow, then?”


“I think me and the ship are ready to go. I mean look at me.” Nijil beamed even more. “What could be better. Fit for a dangerous mission with a shuttle I’m quite familiar with, my e’lev here in front of me and another waiting for me back on the station.


“...I..I’m sorry, I must have misheard. Say that last part again..?” Jylliene looked confused.


“My e’lev here...?” He took another bite.


“No, the part about back on the station. Unless I utterly misheard you.” Jylliene was peering at him quizzically.


“Oh, you mean another waiting for me? Well, I hope she’s waiting for me. We hit it off so well I just...you know perhaps she’s bonded, but it sure didn’t seem so.” He grinned and took another drink.


“Is this..the norm for Rihannsu relationships?” Jylliene’s stomach was clenching into a knot.


“Well, it’s not mainstream, but far from abnormal.” Nijil finished his bite. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”


“..desperate?” She poured more of the drink, and gulped half the cup down.


“The Breen dealt us a severe blow. Families gone. Lineages broken. Family is very important to us. In truth this is a main tenant of our culture. This disaster has set our people back for generations. I can’t imagine having my family line snuffed out before its time.”


Jylliene finished the other half. “So..I am a ‘desperate measure,’ who is intended to be one of several?” She set the cup down on the table rather firmly. And loudly.


“More like highly desired. You know I love you as much as anyone. That will never change. I hope the good Doctor feels the same about me.”


“Just a question - wait, Doctor? Doctor Davis, you mean?” Jylliene’s mind reeled.


“I fell for or over her in the Arboretum a while back. Whatever they taught her at the Federation medical school worked wonders for me.” He took another drink. “She could get me to talk about anything. Spoke of my family at great length. She was quite the interrogator, by any standard.”


“Arboretum seeems to be a good place for you,” Jylliene replied, wincing as she thought of what she had previously imagined had been a special location for the two of them, now apparently just another good place to take his women. “Jussst one question,” she added, downing half of the fresh glass of the infusion she had just poured for herself.


“Yes my dear?”


“If this whole thing is so deshperate, why the agreement about returning to Aegis? I’d think you’d not want to rishk your lineage dying out on the mission,” she paused, then added, her stomach adding a new knot to its collection, “...or did you alrrrready begin working on that with others...?”


“Oh no, nothing like that yet. Our time should be special. Just as my time with her would be. And if I can get over my fear of telepaths, well, who knows. Yes, I should have thought about this before heading out on this mission, but an agreement is an agreement. However, if we agree to ignore our arrangement.” Nijil’s wandering eyes matched his sly smile.


As it is, I have the perfect sholution for you, then,” Jylliene replied cheerily. Pausing, she she stood up, grabbed a padd, and made a few quick entries. “Read thish...thish...is where my quarters were. I’ve got the code here. Let’sh see if the little yogaurt enthushiasts would be happy to shtart your little collection off.” Flinging him the padd, she grabbed the back of his tunic, yanked him out of his chair, and, calling for the door to open, threw him through it. “Off on your misssshion, flyboy! Good luck!” she called out as the door closed. “Out with the basht..bas..guy,” she added in a mutter as she walked back to the table, grabbed the bottle of mead, and took a swig. “Let’sh see...three for three with the men,” she grumbled to nobody. She collapsed across the bed, then added, “Maaaaybe whatshername is shingle. I’ll hafta assshker...” as her eyes closed in sleep.

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