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After Party Pressure

Posted on Tue Oct 15th, 2019 @ 6:43am by
Edited on on Thu Oct 24th, 2019 @ 1:10am

2,005 words; about a 10 minute read

Mission: Episode 8 - The Silence
Location: Quarters of Ingrid Hollister - Deck 2 - USS Pioneer
Timeline: MD003 2200 hrs

Excerpt from "Pirate Island"

The doors to the holodeck opened again and Khalon entered in black warn-leather boots and pants. He wore a matching jacket over a silver-clasped vest. Around his waist was a chain belt with a scull as its clasp and carried a shimmering cutlass over his right shoulder. He didn't look like a conventional pirate, but his outfit certainly did the trick. He followed the signs to the crew who were already in the midst of the festivities. He looked around slowly to see if there was anyone here he knew.

"Great minds think alike." came a familiar voice from behind him. He turned around to see Ingrid with an amused expression, her own cutlass over her shoulder. Unlike him, however, she had no jacket, but instead wore a maroon corset-top, a short black skirt with white lace trimmings, a matching black pirate hat, and lace stockings which ran down her long toned legs.

"They do, I guess." he said, avoiding the impulse to look her up and down. The Lieutenant was amazing to see, but he had his mind on someone else. They crossed their blades with one another in a mock sword fight, but he pulled his back, realizing that the game was pretty dangerous.

"I think I like this outfit better than your uniform. Maybe you should wear it every day." she said, lifting her left hand to the aqua-colored gem that hung there by a necklace.

"I could get used to that." he said with a white smile. He'd checked himself out in the mirror several times to make sure it was indeed flattering, so he was currently busy masking how pleased he was to receive a compliment so soon. Maybe you should talk to the Captain about the regulation changes needed to make that happen."

"Yeah," she responded. "Maybe we can convince command to fly the skull and crossbones on the top of the nacelles."

She turned, without warning, to Commander Quinn and the group which was standing with him.

"What do you say, Commander? Khalon things we should dress like this every day."

An hour later...

Ingrid sat on her couch, her pink drink in her hand, and she gazed at Khalon. They'd both had a few drinks in their pirate outfits and were adequately lubricated for interesting conversation. She'd talked him out of the holodeck game quite easily and opted for a more intimate night. He had been withdrawn, clearly trying to keep an appropriate distance, which was good; it meant he was at least attracted to her. He was somewhat drunk, however, so he was having trouble maintaining the same distance.

"So, I know you're a fleet boy, but-" she began with a grin before he cut her off.

"A what?" he asked, looking at her like there was something on her face.

"A fleet boy..." she repeated, allowing the glass of pink liquid a pause on her full red lips. "You know, like...a kid who grew up on Starships."

Khalon let out a fiery chuckle and literally slapped his knee. It wasn't until several seconds later that his laughter abated and he was able to respond.

"That's not what it's called." he said, rolling his eyes and looking at her again. His eyes fell from her big blue eyes to the inviting view below the neck line; there was alot to be seen. He took another sip of his glass of brown liquid and looked elsewhere.

"Whatever. You know what I mean." she said, smiling herself. She'd noticed the glances but pretended not to. "You were a Star...lad."

At that, they both erupted into a fit of laughter again. Khalon, for his part nearly doubled over from the merriment. It was clear they had both had enough to drink already.

"A Starlad, right." he said once he could speak again. "No, actually. My dad is in Starfleet but I grew up on Earth."

"Oh, Daddy was always gone then? How sad." she said, mock sadness on her face. She let her already big eyes grow wider for effect. Though she may have meant no harm (it was hard to tell), it was very clear that the comment was meant to make him feel small. She could do that from time to time; she had the power, and the habit, to deflate.

"Yup, cried every day." he replied sarcastically without missing a single beat. "What about you? Your low cut pirate outfit and dyed hair tell me you have a great relationship with your father."

It was so mean, Ingrid half disbelieved he had said it. It took her a few seconds before she noticed her mouth was hanging open in shock. Being herself, his unmitigated bravery and "f××× you" attitude brought her an even mixture of anger and arousal. He wasn't wrong, after all. Her father was the most ruthless man she'd ever known; he was the only person who genuinely scared her. It wasn't the makings of warm and cuddly feelings in the family.

"Oh, you're a complete asshole." she said as she blinked in amazement and forced back a smile which was threatening to burst forward like a waterfall. "I thought you were a nice guy, Khalon."

He made a strong scoffing noise, almost recoiling from her comment as he brought his glass to his thick and glistening lips again. He was normally full of charm, but especially when he was playing hard to get. People liked a challenge, which was unfortunate for him in this instance.

"No you didn't." he said, taking a drink and putting the glass back down on the table.

"Yes, I did." she said, obstinately. "That's why I invited you over. I thought you were nice to talk to."

"Shut up." he said, shaking his head and then looking at her squarely. "You don't invite nice guys over to "talk". You know, because of those Daddy issues."

Ingrid's face flashed an even greater surprise and indignation. If she were standing, one might guess she would stomp her foot. There was a long silence between them as he looked at her blankly and she looked back in irritation. Then, she broke. Her face curled into a smile and she let out a laugh again.

"Damnit, I was sure I could get you to apologize to me and act all sorry." she said, shaking her head.

Khalon didn't laugh, but his expression was amused. "I don't know you that well, Ingrid, but I know you like to play mind games. I'm not going to fall for that...I'm too good."

She looked at him flirtatiously, a trickster's grin on her face. He was cocky and extremely good looking; she wanted to find out exactly where that confidence came from. She quickly turned her smile into a sad expression, one she wore very convincingly.

"That was mean, what you said about my Daddy, though." she said more reflectively. She looked at him again with those big doe eyes of hers; eyes she had used for manipulating men and getting whatever she wanted her whole life. First her father, and then many cons that followed.

"I know." he said, allowing a small smile. It was handsome and white, full of that Khalon Price charm. He picked his glass up and finished it off. Truth be told, she was putting on a good show and he wondered if he really had saddened her. He decided to ere on the side of caution this once. "What's your dad like?"

The question sparked memories in bucketfulls. She was beloved by her father, but he was a hard man. He was determined and powerful; he silenced everyone who stood in his way. All of that was a secret, however. All of that was from the life of Ingrid Holt. No, Ingrid Hollister's father was kind and mild-mannered, if not saintly. He was boring, just the way she wanted him.

"Who cares?" she asked, pulling herself into a standing position.

"I care." he said, looking at her strangely, obviously being genuine. It was a strange transition. "Is he a good man?"

"I have a more interesting conversation for us." she said rather decisively. She didn't feel like telling that tired lie right now and she was becoming a worse actor on the subject lately.

"What's that?" he asked, looking genuinely interested in the reply.

"How am I ever going to untie this corset without help?" she asked, taking a step toward him. Her face indicated her full intention for the first time.

Khalon stood up and looked at her with an almost fearful interest. As he moves, his eyes scanned her pirated form with hunger; her strong and shaped legs, her wide and inviting his, her slim stomach, and her perfectly arranged breasts were all siren songs in the night for a man who didn't have much control over his sexual impulses. He immediately regretted allowing himself to be in this position. He put his hands up to his sides in physical withdrawal.

"Ingrid, as much as I would like to help you take off those clothes and see that banging body..." he paused for a second, steeling himself for the act of willpower which was coming. "I have a girlfriend. You know I have a girlfriend."

Ingrid stepped right up to him, looking up sharply to see his face. Her blue eyes glinted in the artificial light of the room. She looked into his brown eyes and, seeing the same desire, placed a hand on his strong and exposed chest. The brown skin was warm to the touch and flinched with the impact.

"I gotta say, you don't really seem like the 'I have a girlfriend' type, Khalon." She said, looking sceptical. She ran the hand she'd placed on his chest down a bit until it rested on his lower stomach, revealed by the open leather vest to his pirate outfit. He moved his hips slightly in response, clearly fighting something below.

"You mean I seem like the kind of man who cheats on his girlfriend?" He asked, looking down at her, trying to focus on her face.

"Absolutley, you do." She said, grinning from ear to ear. There was no shame in her face; right now, for the first time in a long time, she knew what she wanted.

"Not this time I'm not." He said, realizing what he'd just said. Something was different about him and Sofia; something he didn't want to ruin with his wandering eye. He'd also just unintentionally extended an invitation to Ingrid to keep on trying by admitting his weakness.

"You must really like Miss Cipriani." She marveled, seeming a bit annoyed beneath her sexy emotional veneer.

"I do..." he said, slipping around her quickly like a cat hopping out of a box. He backed toward the door. "I know a couple guys who say they're interested though. I could send them your way and you can give them the razzle dazzle instead, huh?"

"Shut up, lover boy. Get out." She said, her eyes rolling though still filled with craving. She watched him exit the room and found herself quite alone.

Loneliness was the story of her life. Everything she had to do, she had to do it by herself. She watched other people pair off in honest and open relationships. They were getting married; they were having kids. She felt a bit of resentment well up inside her. Was that what she wanted for herself finally? Was that what she wanted ever? Just then, she noticed something sitting on her coffee table; Khalon's pirate hat.

A Joint Post By

Lieutenant Ingrid Hollister
Chief Flight Control Officer, USS Pioneer

Ensign Khalon Price
Assistant Chief Flight Control Officer, USS Pioneer


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