The corridors in the section of the Hornet that housed the members of Banshee Squadron -- which had quickly been unofficially dubbed "Banshee Country" by the crew -- were all but deserted. A lone pair of feet trod the lonely deckplates here in search of their prey. Slinking silently along the wall, a pair of eyes read the nameplates beside the doors until they came to the one they were looking for.
Rising silently, a hand moved toward the wall controls that opened the door. It paused for a moment, hovering motionlessly, fingertips just brushing the contact, hesitant. Should I go in...? Deciding, the hand moved forward, the fingertips depressed the contact, and the door slid quietly open. The pair of feet stepped into the rooms beyond.
It was dark inside. Good. The feet walked deeper into the room, but accidentally kicked something hard in the dark. Ow! It was a pile of luggage, still squatting in the middle of the stateroom, still waiting to be unpacked. The feet moved around the pile toward the doorway to the inner room.
The eyes were becoming dark-adapted, and could make out more detail now. The living room where they were was dark, the only illumination coming from the stars outside the large space windows. There was a dim light however, coming from the other side of the doorway -- from the bedroom -- the electric glow of artificial light. The feet moved that way.
A small figure lay propped up on an elbow on the single bed. It was turned the other way, unable to see the intruder, and apparently unheedful of the intruder's collision with the luggage outside. The soft glow emanated from the small screen of a PADD which lay on the bedsheet in front of the figure.
Slowly and stealthily the feet approached the bed. The hand reached out again toward the unsuspecting figure, but this time there was no hesitation. Lightening fast, the hand snatched and came away with its prize! "Watcha got there, kiddo?" crowed the intruder.
The poor figure, frightened practically out of its skin by the unexpected attack from the dark and the abrupt appearance of a voice behind her, screamed, "Yaaaah!!!" and in a whirlwind of flailing limbs and pillows, went over backwards off the bed and onto the floor. Activated by the commotion and noise, the room lights automatically came on.
Long seconds passed without any movement from the pile of arms, legs and bedding on the floor, but then a low voice dripping with venom growled very slowly and deliberately from somewhere inside the pile, "You're dead meat, Schmidt. Mark my words."
Jo Schmidt cocked a skeptical eyebrow and dismissed the threat with an amused chuckle. "Jeez. What a grouch!" she said. She glanced without too much interest at the PADD she'd liberated. "So what're you writing, anyway? Let's see...." She refreshed the screen and read the first few words aloud. "My dearest darling Garek--"
Any further reading on her part was postponed however by the sudden eruption of the pile of limbs and bedding. "Give me that, you snoop!" cried Kim Tycho (the owner of all those limbs and bedding), hurling herself bodily across the room. She snatched the PADD back from Jo and said, "It's a private letter."
"Yeah, I could tell," replied Jo. "I was just getting to the 'private' part." Her jokes fell on deaf ears though. Kim had walked back over to her bed and dropped the PADD in a noisy clatter on the nightstand, then sunk moodily to the now-bare mattress. Jo decided to change tacks -- her humor bit obviously wasn't working. She went over and sat down next to Kim on the disheveled bed.
Neither of them spoke for long minutes. Finally, Jo ventured an observation. "You really miss him, don't you?"
Kim nodded. She sniffed and said, "Yeah. I guess I do. Just when we were getting real close, they go and transfer me. Why'd he have to go and make me fall in love with him anyway, the big dumb jerk...." She sniffed again and wiped her nose on her sleeve -- a very unladylike gesture -- but typical for Kimmie.
Jo smiled and put a sympathetic arm around her friend's shoulders. "Don't worry about it, Kimmie," she said with as much assurance as she could muster. "Things'll work out. You'll see. Besides, the Hornet will be making regular stops at Starbase 901. You can see Garek then...."
A noncommittal shrug was the only response from Kim.
Determined to cheer up her friend, Jo stood up. "Come on. Let's go find the others. They're probably in the bar abusing the enlisted crew. What say we go help 'em?"
Kim looked at the PADD with its unfinished letter, then up at Jo's grinning face. Coming to a decision, she stood as well and, smile slowly returning to her normally bright countenance, said, "Help who? The others, or the enlisted crew?"
"What do you think?" Jo laughed and winked devilishly.
The two women walked out of the stateroom side by side. As the doors slid shut behind them, Kim could be heard saying, "I'm still gonna kill you, you know...."