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Well, this is an… interesting crowd. The patrons of the seedy space station bar mill about their business around you and Captain Pike. This station, on the outskirts of the galaxy, attracts a certain clientele. Mercenaries, fugitives, anyone without scruples looking for an escape, physical or mental. This is the place.
You glance over at Captain Pike, sitting beside you at the long bar, made of what looks like recycled ship parts. The whole station is a floating scrapyard, really. You’ve never seen anything like this place, or its customers, and you’re glad Captain Pike is by your side.
The two of you are on an away mission, meeting a contact for information vital to your mission. They would only agree to meeting with the Captain, no extras, but he had managed to talk them into letting you come along, stating Starfleet regulations would not allow him to go unaccompanied. You have a calm, easygoing demeanor that won’t seem threatening to the contact, yet the Captain knows you have years of training and experience, and can hold your own if needed. He’s seen you in action before, and is impressed by you in more ways than one.
Truth be told, you’re nervous in this setting. You see the Captain giving those around you his signature side-eye. You’re both on high alert. You’ve been waiting for several hours now, and your contact is nowhere to be found. Are they standing you up? Did something happen to them? If anyone caught wind that they’re a Starfleet informant, they could pay the price…
Laughter on the other side of the bar catches your attention and you look in its direction. A few Ferengi with a few too many drinks in them. You roll your eyes but say nothing. You’re here on official business. No time for chit-chat.
You’re not used to being alone with the Captain. Having him all to yourself… Hmmm… Now there is a thought…
“What do you think, [Y/N]?” Captain Pike asks you. Your name on his lips makes you turn your head and stare into his intense blue-grey orbs. Did he just call you by your first name? Oh no, you’re taking too long to respond…
“Something wrong?” he asks you, and you swear a smirk is just visible on his lips… Mmm, those lips…
“Think of… What, sir?” you ask, seriously distracted at this point by the noise. And what is that smell? A pot of mystery-meat stew boils away on a convection-burner behind the bar, releasing a stench some species would find delectable. Not humanoids, however.
“Our informant. They’re a little late…,” the Captain states, a hint of agitation detectable in his deep voice. He adjusts restlessly on the uncomfortable barstool beneath him.
“More than a little late, sir. Something could have happened. They’ve assisted Starfleet multiple times in the past. I don’t see why this time would be any different,” you reply, careful to keep your voice down, though it’s hard over the music that just started playing, a symphony of alien instruments, an upbeat but odd composition.
The Captain nods in reply and you both turn to the small stage in the corner of the bar, now populated by several Orion women, and others of species you don’t recognize. They begin to dance to the music, a provocative dance meant to entice those that might wish to exchange universal currency for the pleasure of their company.
One Orion woman leaves the stage, dancing provocatively around the tables, coming near you and the Captain. She’s scantily clad, and her movements are almost mesmerizing. You’ve heard of the seductive powers of Orion women, though never seen them up close. Several of the bar patrons are already claiming their dancers, and you study Captain Pike’s face as the woman dances next to him, her scent intoxicating as she gets closer to the two of you. Pheromones, probably. Definitely not legal, but there’s no law out here on the edge of the cosmos.
The Captain looks calm and composed as ever, and he nods politely at the woman, and suddenly places his hand over yours, squeezing it gently and showing the dancer that he’s not interested. The woman looks mildly disappointed but moves on to her next potential client.
A spark shoots through you at the Captain’s touch and you feel your heartrate increase. Once the woman has left, he releases your hand. “Sorry, it’s just easier than… Well, you know,” he says apologetically, hoping he didn’t overstep with you. When on an away mission, you have to be able to improvise when needed.
“It’s okay,” you reply with a small smile. Your hand tingles slightly where he touched you. You’ve been trying so hard lately to push down the feelings you’ve been developing for your Captain, but tonight, you feel the walls of your psyche breaking down. But surely it’s in vain… There’s no chance… It could never be reciprocated. Could it?
“Have you seen them before?” the Captain asks, nodding his prominent chin in the stage’s direction.
“Um, no. No, this is my first time,” you answer, wishing you would have said that differently. Captain Pike’s eyes study you for a moment, and he raises his eyebrow. “Don’t let their appearance fool you. They’re cunning, and dangerous. I know a few Starfleet officers who have fallen victim to their wiles.”
“Oh? Like who?” you ask, smiling teasingly at the Captain, knowing full well he’ll never name names. You prop your elbow on the bar in front of you, resting your head on your hand as you peer mischievously over at him.
His eyes scan you again, liking this slightly playful side of you more than he wants to admit. “Well, they wouldn’t like me telling,” he replies with a wink that almost knocks you off your stool. You smile back at him and take a drink of the water the barkeep has placed in front of you. It tastes like their filtration system needs some serious maintenance; thank goodness the cup is too dark to see what color the liquid inside is.
Captain Pike watches you take a drink and smirks at your reaction. He chose you for this away mission for your skills, definitely, but it was more than that. Lately, he just can’t seem to get you off of his mind. The sound of your voice, your beautiful smile, and the way you put him at ease. A few times recently, he’s felt so weighed down by the mission, his past, the responsibility of command. You’ve been there for him, asking him what’s on his mind and listening without judgement when he opens up to you, as much as he’s comfortable with in the moment. He feels like he can talk to you, and vice versa. Recently it’s been dawning on him… He’s falling for you. But, it’s not professional, not appropriate. He’s your superior, after all. Though right now, in this disreputable place of commerce, he’s beginning to lose touch with his reservations about the two of you…
It’s getting late, and your contact is apparently a no-show. You’re about to head back to the shuttle, so you can rendezvous with the ship which is currently out of range investigating another matter pertinent to the mission. However, an announcement is made over the station comm, in universal tongue, that there’s been a malfunction in the environmental controls and the way to the docking area is inaccessible. Life support and artificial gravity are down in those areas while they make repairs, and the repair estimate is at least twelve hours.
“Well, it looks like we’re going to be stuck here for a while,” you comment to the Captain. A yawn overcomes you and you shuffle yourself on the barstool, your behind aching from the hard surface. It’s been a long day. This environment is a lot to take in. The clientele, the noise, having your guard up, it’s all a bit over-stimulating.
Captain Pike sees you’re tired, and the two of you decide to get a room on the station for the night. Luckily, the living quarters have been unaffected by the malfunctions. The captain pays the barkeep in universal currency and you’re directed to your room for the night. As you leave the bar area, the clientele is getting rowdier as the hour gets later. You make your way through the crowd, but find your way suddenly blocked by two angry-looking Reptilians. Well, you think they’re angry, their species always looks like that if you’re being honest.
“What is Starfleet doing out here?” one of them hisses, their tone oozing with malice. How did they know you were Starfleet; you’re not wearing any identifiers?
“You’re mistaken…” Captain Pike starts, but he’s cut off by the other being, “Captain Pike of the Enterprise… You’re a long way from home, Starfleet.”
The captain retains his composure, but you see his posture change, readying himself in case a fight breaks out. “I don’t want any trouble,” he states commandingly, but it’s too late, every inebriated Federation-hater in the joint has now heard that the two of you are Starfleet, and they encroach on your position threateningly. Your hand instinctively brushes your hip, searching for your phaser, but you remember that they confiscated it upon entry. No weapons allowed in the bar, but they apparently didn’t count the razor-sharp spines protruding off of the alien closest to you.
The being swings at you, the venomous spines on its wrist coming perilously close to your exposed neck, and your instincts kick in. You evade the blow, but before you can react further, the alien is dispatched by Pike, who has grabbed a nearby bar-stool, bringing it down on the alien’s head. The being goes down, hitting the metal floor, its body now limp and listless, the silvery blood of a chromium-based life form oozing from its fresh head wound.
The others advance on the two of you, and your eyes scan the area for something you, too, could use as a blunt weapon, but there is nothing within reach. You raise your fists, ready to engage the enemy…
Several bouncers have heard the commotion and come ambling into the fight. These aliens are huge, brawny, and apparently made of ninety percent muscle tissue. No one wants to mess with them, and the crowd disperses, going back to their vices. Some gambling tables have opened up, and there’s a rumor that an underground slave trade goes on after midnight, but it’s a dangerous game, all of it. One puts their life on the line when walking through the docking hatch to this station, as you and the captain have just experienced.
You’ve had about enough of this place, and feel a sense of relief as you and Pike continue your way to the living area. You hear the ruckus behind you, fading in intensity as you walk, but the energy of the place is still very much present in you as you feel adrenaline pulsing through your veins. The farther away from the noise you walk, the better you feel, and the more aware you are of Captain Pike’s presence.
You walk slightly ahead of him, and absentmindedly rub your lower back with your hands, sore from the hours of sitting and waiting. Captain Pike notices your actions and something inside of him stirs. There’s something about this place, with everyone around you indulging their hedonistic, baser urges. A veritable feast for the senses, an escape from the roles and responsibilities of life in the rest of the galaxy.
Who were those Reptilians, and how did they know that you were Starfleet? Did they have something to do with your informant not showing up? Are the two of you in danger remaining on this station? Possibly, and all good questions. However, they will have to wait. Whatever it is about this place, it’s cast its spell upon both of you, and as you enter your quarters for the night, the tension between you is palpable, undeniable, and demanding to be addressed.