I Ain't Working For Romulans.

Posted on Sat Feb 4th, 2023 @ 5:35pm by Lieutenant Batsheva Olmert & Sublieutenant Shira Ben Asher & Lieutenant Daisy Stanier

1,181 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: Chapter VI: Racing the Storm
Location: Drozana Station.

Work had never been hard to come by. People were always looking for guns for hire.

Batsheva and Shira’s last contracts had expired, now they were on the hunt for new ones. They had enough to survive for now. It was a good pay day. But, they’d need something before long. Drozana had been a happy hunting ground. Even if Batsheva hated the place. It gave her the creeps.

“What time did you say she was meeting us?” Shira asked. Batsheva had the connections. She was the one who arranged interviews, meetings. She did the talking, negotiating. Shira had the gun under the table.

“Soon.” she confirmed.

Hands held, Shira and Batsheva walked towards their rendezvous. The station was busy. People were out to achieve a multitude of objectives. Buying the latest gadgets. Getting rich. Taking out their opposition. Batsheva considered Drozana to be a cesspit of backstabbing, two faced sheretz. The dregs. The worst of the worst.

They paid well though.

The rendezvous was the usual place. A bar. One which frequented by LGBTQ+ people from all over the galaxy. Batsheva and Shira included. It had been a while though.

“Usual, babe?”

“Please.” Shira nodded, kissing Batsheva on the cheek. “I’ll go and find a seat.”

Batsheva stood at the bar. The music was loud, but you could still hear the person stood next to you. Barely. The strobe lights flashed the colours of the rainbow. Pole dancers provided entertainment for all genders. Batsheva hired one for Shira for her 21st birthday last year. That was a night neither would forget.

“Are you two married yet?”

Batsheva replied, the woman she was meeting stood next to her. “Daisy Stanier.”

“No, not yet.”

“When are you going to ask her?” Daisy asked, a bartender approaching them. “You’re literally made for each other.”

Batsheva wanted marriage. But, the right time never came. Clichés would be asking on Valentine’s Day or New Years’ Eve. No. Batsheva wanted the right moment. Their moment. She knew her father would never give her away to another woman. Secretly, it hurt. Batsheva was confident Shira knew this too. “Soon. What are you having?”

“You say that EVERY time.” Daisy replied.

Batsheva repeated herself. “What are you having, Daisy? The man is waiting.”

“The usual, please.”

“Pitcher it is, then. One of your finest pitchers, three glasses, please.” Batsheva asked. The bartender then went to make their pitcher. “I could say that about you too, by the way. Have you told Skylar yet?”

Daisy sighed. “No.”

Shira watched as her girlfriend, her soulmate, talked to Daisy. She and Batsheva both knew Daisy was a lesbian, too, but there was no awkwardness, distrust. No, her heart was Skylar’s. Even if in her own opinion, Skylar did not deserve Daisy. Since Daisy and Skylar had sex two months ago, she and Batsheva hadn’t seen her. Shira’s opinion had changed, negatively, Batsheva kept an open mind.

“You should, Daisy.” Batsheva said, collecting the pitcher, Daisy the three glasses. She walked Daisy over to the table where Shira sat. It was in a corner they could talk privately. As privately as the bar would let them, anyway.

“I’ve tried.”

Shira asked, taking a glass from Daisy. “You’ve tried what?”

“Skylar. She won’t talk to me.”

Batsheva sat next to Shira, Daisy on the opposite bench. Skylar was looking after Azalea, they were on Taryn’s shuttle.

“Don’t waste your time, Daisy. She ain’t good enough for you.” said Shira, pouring equal measures of their pitcher.

Skylar’s behaviour made Daisy believe Shira was right, even if it hurt. Daisy loved her. She’d never loved anyone like Skylar. But she made it hard to love her. She wanted what Batsheva and Shira had, but with Skylar. “Yeah. Probably.”

Batsheva replied, looking at Shira, then Daisy. “If Skylar is who she loves, who’re we to judge, Shira? She’ll realise what she’s missing one day.”

“Will she?” Daisy, wanting a change of subject, asked.

Smiling, Batsheva nodded. “Yes. She will.”

The subject changed. To Daisy’s relief. She couldn’t talk about Skylar for too long. It upset, depressed her. She, Batsheva, Shira had not met for some time, so there was a lot of catching up to do. Before long, a second pitcher was required.

“So, tell me.” Daisy said, then sipping her drink. She’d lost count. “Where are you going next?”

Batsheva shrugged, hoping that’s what Daisy would be telling them. At least, that’s what she’d said when this rendezvous was arranged. A week ago. Felt like longer.

“You tell me, Daisy. You said you had a job for us.”

Daisy did. Ourainavassa. She was not looking for work herself, but she was sure Raven was always looking for people who got the job done, no questions asked. She paid well. She took care of her crew. Daisy would have stayed, but it was too dangerous. Her sister was too young. Daisy was all she had left.

“Yes. Ourainavassa.”

“The…what?” asked Shira.

“Ourainavassa.”

“Sounds Romulan.” Shira replied, her mind already made. “I ain’t working for Romulans.”

Batsheva sat back and listened. Money was money. But she knew Shira had red lines.

Daisy shook her head. “Shira, you misunderstand. Yes, Ourainavassa is a Romulan battleship, but the crew aren’t Romulan. They stole the ship. They’re freelance, from all walks of life. No job is too big or too small. You’re talking big money, permanent contract. Think of the security.”

Before Shira had a chance to object, again, Batsheva raised her hand, putting her emptied glass down. She wanted a chance to speak.

“Okay, say we’re interested. Why would they be interested in hiring us? You’re a nurse, so how do you know them? They sound much higher grade than the usual sheretz we work for.”

Daisy expected this response. Shira, she hated Romulans. Of course she’d say no. Batsheva was more open minded, maybe she’d at least listen. Yes. It seemed like she was.

“Even freelancers need a nurse, Sheva.” began Daisy. Her time on Ourainavassa was a very short one, but she knew the people were good. Especially Raven.

She continued. “I know the Commander. Colonel t’Varis, Raven. I can’t come with you, I have to get back, but I can give you a reference. It’ll tell her that I know you’re good, to be trusted. You proved that working for us.”

Batsheva and Shira listened.

“Look, I’ve gotta go in a few minutes.”

Then, Daisy excused herself, to use the bathroom. While she was gone, Batsheva, Shira engaged in conversation. Daisy’s offer was intriguing, tempting. They couldn’t afford to be choosy. With their lifestyle, work hard and play hard, their money would soon run out. Survival, especially the lavish survival they now lived, required money. A few minutes later, Daisy sat back down.

“We’ll take your reference.” said Shira.

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