Starbase 268, the night before boarding
Suddenly Hunt decided to get up. He emptied his chair beside his bed uniform and a long blue overcoat, a couple of years had been in the habit of wearing. The coat was just retired from the laundry and smelled of lavender. On the bedside table before him the rank of lieutenant commander, who is pinned to the collar. It took years to get them back, and although the vast majority of his former comrades-in-academy grades and assignments had been far higher and far more prestigious of its own, did not care.
came out on the walk and could not help but lay her reflection along the panoramic windows that looked out on the cold interstellar void. He considered that the views of a Starbase was too monotonous, it was not what he was used, was not even remotely comparable to that of the bar enjoyable prow of a starship at warp speed.
Despite the hour, it cruised through some other, which was not unusual. An officer on duty, a couple in love at first connected and desire for intimacy ... only after they have struck all noticed the rhythm of his gait and neurotic latinum forgotten room. The nth collision is sore right thigh while swearing to himself to be completely broke.
was leaning against a bulkhead intent on massaging the sore muscles when he saw the shining hair, and dark circle on the head of a woman who entered the bar station. Instinctively began to move, caught in a chase all the sudden. The entrance was free and immediately catapulted into the twilight of the room looking for the crown with his eyes. The bar was not the greatest, the lights were low and most tables were empty even though you do not notice because of darkness. On a makeshift dais triumphed a couple of dim lights and the entry of Hunt coincided that of a woman on stage. It was not what he had seen come in, had a tiny little face and a long neck protruding from the neckline of the dress revealed a weak synthetic clothes that reflected lights of the room at his slightest movement, giving it reflected dark as those of the interstellar void. Immediately after she took to the stage a couple of humanoids that began to set up their equipment.
Hunt continued undaunted to fix the woman when she's annoyed with a waiter came up beside a huge mole on her cheek. Hunt thought it was a caricature of Marilyn Monroe Ferengi. He asked in a tone off if he wanted to sit down and screeching, Hunt said yes with a nod and sat down on one side of the front row. He remembered that it had latinum and began to rummage in the pockets for luck. He found a misery. While the offense of Marilyn's living exposed the menu she began her show, despite the small crowd cheering. A dark voice, deep, impalpable. His dark eyes caught the fringe hours trying the empty words and meaningless granted for the submission. The bass player left playing an old tune from land that Hunt did not feel much, and the waiter insisted on forcing him to order. All that the doctor could afford to take was an edge, "the salad diet of the house." The Ferengi
noted ordination with disturbed air, and the doctor found himself shortly after eating a salad diet served by the galaxy's worst waiter in front of a blues that was slaughtering complessino More than you know, one of its prices Tracks. He was disappointed even the interpretation of the singer, who did not have the appropriate voice for a song like that. However, the consolation the vision of a Venus curve on a stool in the twilight.
traces of hair, on view, there were none.
Bored and saddened by the succession of poorly executed pieces, but not tired or sleepy, Hunt was hoping for a quick end of the exhibition. The salad then, it seemed that the waiter had the same taste, but maybe it was just his imagination. The last agreement
bassist sounded like a liberation. The singer thanked him and slipped out, and Hunt also followed. The doctor found her leaning against one of the panoramic windows, no coat, drinking a cocktail that did not seem to be made of synthetic alcohol. Tired and chilled to skin contact with the glass, she shook in a shiver.
Hunt approached her offering her coat just washed. She accepted a hint of a bitter smile. "He has a good smell."
"Yes, it's the detergent you use on that basis," said the doctor, realizing after the fantastic notion that he was able to express. As the first sentence to say to a woman is not evil, he murmured to himself.
She smiled slightly, stirred by the strange ways. I stared for a moment. "Who are you?".
I could not answer, perhaps for the first time in his life he did not know what to say to a woman who studied him with eyes, curiously.
Ryo felt terribly embarrassed and empty that night.
"Well, does not matter. Now I go. Keep the coat well.
As alluded to leave he was surprised by the reaction of the woman, who nodded without answering in any way.
Hunt walked away without looking back, and dry with a gesture she raised the collar of his coat to protect the long neck and discovered.
He decided to return to his quarters as the shadows enveloped her nowhere. Yeah, nothing. Following a new ship, a new position. And then nothing. What was left to him? No friends, no family, no career , oddly enough, no women. He felt within himself to have thrown away the last few years, letting them run without leaving any sign except those of the time, felt he had wasted yet another night, and a coat of latinum for tiny salad and a chat with a beautiful girl.
No, maybe not the coat. The flavor of lavender on his neck that was a good thought to go to sleep.
Suddenly Hunt decided to get up. He emptied his chair beside his bed uniform and a long blue overcoat, a couple of years had been in the habit of wearing. The coat was just retired from the laundry and smelled of lavender. On the bedside table before him the rank of lieutenant commander, who is pinned to the collar. It took years to get them back, and although the vast majority of his former comrades-in-academy grades and assignments had been far higher and far more prestigious of its own, did not care.
came out on the walk and could not help but lay her reflection along the panoramic windows that looked out on the cold interstellar void. He considered that the views of a Starbase was too monotonous, it was not what he was used, was not even remotely comparable to that of the bar enjoyable prow of a starship at warp speed.
Despite the hour, it cruised through some other, which was not unusual. An officer on duty, a couple in love at first connected and desire for intimacy ... only after they have struck all noticed the rhythm of his gait and neurotic latinum forgotten room. The nth collision is sore right thigh while swearing to himself to be completely broke.
was leaning against a bulkhead intent on massaging the sore muscles when he saw the shining hair, and dark circle on the head of a woman who entered the bar station. Instinctively began to move, caught in a chase all the sudden. The entrance was free and immediately catapulted into the twilight of the room looking for the crown with his eyes. The bar was not the greatest, the lights were low and most tables were empty even though you do not notice because of darkness. On a makeshift dais triumphed a couple of dim lights and the entry of Hunt coincided that of a woman on stage. It was not what he had seen come in, had a tiny little face and a long neck protruding from the neckline of the dress revealed a weak synthetic clothes that reflected lights of the room at his slightest movement, giving it reflected dark as those of the interstellar void. Immediately after she took to the stage a couple of humanoids that began to set up their equipment.
Hunt continued undaunted to fix the woman when she's annoyed with a waiter came up beside a huge mole on her cheek. Hunt thought it was a caricature of Marilyn Monroe Ferengi. He asked in a tone off if he wanted to sit down and screeching, Hunt said yes with a nod and sat down on one side of the front row. He remembered that it had latinum and began to rummage in the pockets for luck. He found a misery. While the offense of Marilyn's living exposed the menu she began her show, despite the small crowd cheering. A dark voice, deep, impalpable. His dark eyes caught the fringe hours trying the empty words and meaningless granted for the submission. The bass player left playing an old tune from land that Hunt did not feel much, and the waiter insisted on forcing him to order. All that the doctor could afford to take was an edge, "the salad diet of the house." The Ferengi
noted ordination with disturbed air, and the doctor found himself shortly after eating a salad diet served by the galaxy's worst waiter in front of a blues that was slaughtering complessino More than you know, one of its prices Tracks. He was disappointed even the interpretation of the singer, who did not have the appropriate voice for a song like that. However, the consolation the vision of a Venus curve on a stool in the twilight.
traces of hair, on view, there were none.
Bored and saddened by the succession of poorly executed pieces, but not tired or sleepy, Hunt was hoping for a quick end of the exhibition. The salad then, it seemed that the waiter had the same taste, but maybe it was just his imagination. The last agreement
bassist sounded like a liberation. The singer thanked him and slipped out, and Hunt also followed. The doctor found her leaning against one of the panoramic windows, no coat, drinking a cocktail that did not seem to be made of synthetic alcohol. Tired and chilled to skin contact with the glass, she shook in a shiver.
Hunt approached her offering her coat just washed. She accepted a hint of a bitter smile. "He has a good smell."
"Yes, it's the detergent you use on that basis," said the doctor, realizing after the fantastic notion that he was able to express. As the first sentence to say to a woman is not evil, he murmured to himself.
She smiled slightly, stirred by the strange ways. I stared for a moment. "Who are you?".
I could not answer, perhaps for the first time in his life he did not know what to say to a woman who studied him with eyes, curiously.
Ryo felt terribly embarrassed and empty that night.
"Well, does not matter. Now I go. Keep the coat well.
As alluded to leave he was surprised by the reaction of the woman, who nodded without answering in any way.
Hunt walked away without looking back, and dry with a gesture she raised the collar of his coat to protect the long neck and discovered.
He decided to return to his quarters as the shadows enveloped her nowhere. Yeah, nothing. Following a new ship, a new position. And then nothing. What was left to him? No friends, no family, no career , oddly enough, no women. He felt within himself to have thrown away the last few years, letting them run without leaving any sign except those of the time, felt he had wasted yet another night, and a coat of latinum for tiny salad and a chat with a beautiful girl.
No, maybe not the coat. The flavor of lavender on his neck that was a good thought to go to sleep.
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