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Chapter Notes:

The first officer of the U.S.S. Hunter encounters the first officer of Star Base 11...

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 22: Sacrifice
Scene 2: A Little Tune-up

A Little Tune-up

“So you now have an imoginette on your crew? Boy are you going to be grateful you docked your ship in my maintenance bay, flyboy…”

It seemed ages since Commander Kenneth Dolphin had laughed at all, much less until he nearly doubled over. Even her worst jokes had him falling apart – which was in part because he had been under so much stress and in part because Commander Holly Nash had a superb sense of comic timing.

“Oh, that was just terribly corny…”

“Eh, you were due for a little tune-up… I’ve heard rumors about the imoginettes – that’s going to be more stimulating than having an orion slave girl on board. But then I’ve heard stories about the Hunter’s crew having to deal with everyone going into sexual overdrive before. Now you have to tell me why you so emphatically preferred my quarters to yours…” Nash got up to fetch a drink. She didn’t have a beautiful face and her body was blocky and strong, not exceptionally feminine. What made her attractive was kind eyes, a quick mind and a naughty sense of humor. 

And a tendency to make the first move – which, Dolphin had to admit rather ruefully, was the one thing all the women he had been with had in common. 

“Well, for starters, you have an actual bed,” Dolphin observed. “And your rooms are almost as big as the entire deck my quarters are located on. Then there’s the avatar…”

Nash was pouring a drink in the next room. “Avatar?” she shouted back.

Dolphin craned his neck to look at her. “Almost three years and I’m still getting used to serving on an artificially intelligent ship. Wherever you are on board – whatever you’re doing – Hunter is always watching. It gets a little creepy sometimes. Even more because I actually like him..”

Nash clambered back into bed, handed Dolphin a glass of strawberry-pineapple wine. “No replicated drinks in my quarters. Only the best for my boyfriends.”

“A girl has to have her standards…” Dolphin smiled.

“My standards are pretty basic. You just have to fit my profile: male and no less than three full pips on your collar - no more than four.” Nash tapped her finger lightly along Dolphin’s collarbone. “You meet the requirements, so I’m your girl in port when you’re at this Starbase.”

“You have a thing for captains and first officers,” Dolphin relaxed, took a drink.

“Captains and first officers are married to their ships. It keeps things simple. We can have fun for a few nights and I don’t get those creepy, lingering stares wondering whether I’m the one…” Nash trailed her fingers down Dolphin’s chest.

“You’re not looking for the one for you?” Dolphin asked.

“Well, I am chief of staff for Rear Admiral Burton. I can’t very well go having affairs with anyone on my crew. Kind of like you in that respect.” Nash drained her glass, then laid back down next to Dolphin.

“Well, there are about 4,000 civilians down on the planet,” said Dolphin. He took a long drink.

“Yeah, but most of them are vulcans and you know what they’re like,” said Nash. “Fun for a night, but then they tend to fall in love and they get all clingy and emotional …”

Dolphin blew strawberry-pineapple wine all over the bedding, dropped his glass, spilling the rest of it and nearly died coughing and laughing.

“And now you will be replacing my sheets, Commander...”

The U.S.S. Hunter’s first officer, still laughing, started to get up to comply only to get pushed back down by Starbase Eleven’s first officer. Nash climbed on top of him.

“But not just yet, flyboy…”


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