#talas

He leaned back into the squishy, marshmallow like chair, letting the two suns’ rays wash over his bare chest. Finally, his rotation for shore leave began last night, and as much as he enjoyed fiddling with weapon advancement and installation on the Enterprise, the past few months he’d been inundated with mechanical failures that would drive any armory officer worth their salt past the point of exhaustion. 

With no end in sight, Malcolm required cordafin from the med bay in order to keep up with the amount of work he’d had to delegate and complete himself. For weeks, he received it alongside his injection for his pineapple allergy.  After two full months of leaning on the aid, Doctor Phlox advised him that he would need to wean off the stimulant to ensure his liver’s filtration mechanism wouldn’t be negatively affected.

As much as he took pride in his work and career, this was a much needed and appreciated respite for his body and mind to rest and not lose its sharpness. Waves of purple sea lapped at the coral coastline, and he could hear the voices of other crew members twenty meters away chatting amongst themselves.

Occasionally, he could make out a name here or there, a bit of gossip about an engineering ensign engaging in sexual relations with a crewmember in the sciences division, but mostly, the cool water and warm breeze drowned out the conversation into white noise.

This planet, Moradita, hosted a multitude of alien species; another resort-like planet that competed in the universe against the like of pleasure planets like Risa. However, after Commander Tucker’s and his last experience at Risa, Malcolm much preferred the fresh slate of a new planet. He had no intention of being robbed and tied up again with the Engineering officer.

He sipped on a foreign concoction—half blended into a murky pink, slurry-like consistency, nothing he’d be able to compare to on Enterprise—and surprisingly enjoyed the exotic flavors mixed with the tingly sensation that coated his lips. At first, he worried there was an ingredient similar to pineapple within the drink due to the tingling, but the concern subsided when he heard Ensign Hoshi describe the same feeling as she took her first sip at the beach stall.

The drink, which he could not name from memory in the planet’s native tongue, roughly translated to “Hot Sleep” per Hoshi’s understanding. Though the two of them were suspicious that this was more of a euphemism than direct translation. He tried not to think about the consequences of drinking one too many of these….

Despite planting himself in a solitary location upon the shore, another smooshy lounge chair plopped a few meters from his side. Peeking behind his dark glasses rated for dual suns, Malcolm observed the other vacationer. Not human, but humanoid. Her features were thin and delicate, almost fairy-like from ancestral Earth folklore. He was pretty sure it was a “her” from the feminine shape of her hips and the grace she displayed while fanning herself in the strong beam of sunlight.

He took a long, determined sip of his exotic drink, eyeing her backside as she bent over to remove the planet’s complimentary shoes to walk over the coral-like, sharp edged path to the beach sand. Poor sod, Tucker was, to miss out on this beauty. She merely had ridges along the length of her stretched neck and a pale green complexion that highlighted her fairer features.

The fine fairy caught him admiring her, the irises of her eyes striped in gold and espresso brown. He nodded curtly, hoping it would not offend her further.

She plucked a cylindrical device from her possessions and propped it between them, pointing to it with her extended finger. She vocalized and the machine whirred with the sound.

Ah, a communication device. It was an alternative Hoshi for another crew. She must enjoy new cultures and languages. He spoke a few varied sentences, ones that he’d often heard Hoshi reference while calibrating her own translator into various alien languages. Syntax was important, he called her explaining once over a midnight snack in the cafeteria.

“Name?” Her eyes blinked at an inhuman slow rate, waiting for the device to translate. The machine worked with excellent speed and efficiency.

“Lieutenant Malcolm Reed of Enterprise: a human starship. And you are?”

“Rei-nnk-yol-nnk-oo of Gu-Rei-Kol. I am an Oor-ag-naki and work on a trade vessel from a nearby intergalactic tradestream. Friendlies may call me Oo-rei. Easier in your tongue. ”

“Friends,” he corrected politely and was more than grateful for an easier nickname to call her. He really should take Hoshi up on those language lessons. His restrained palate really struggled with alien phonics. “A pleasure to meet you, Oo-rei. Staying for a long time or is this a short visit?”

“I stay for a short time. The vessel captain is here for a family meeting. He gave me two days of vacation after a long contract.” It wasn’t exactly a smile that appeared on her face, but with how her cheeks dimpled, Malcolm thought she was happy with this exchange.

The more they conversed, the closer their lopsided loungers became. She asked all types of questions about his home planet: types of languages, traditional diets, customs and holidays. She liked his description of a “birth” day. On Oor-ag-nak, they celebrated the date of their first word which typically took two to three before their young could master a singular word in their native tongue. They valued language above all else, with the complexity of their communication making anything said valuable since it had to be worth expending all this time and energy.

Malcolm found it a bit ironic that humans celebrated the baby’s arrival rather than a milestone or accomplishment. It was a fascinating concept to him, to say the least.

“You explore the space?”

“Yes, simply put, we are on a mission to explore as far as we can and make scientific discoveries along the way.”

Oo-rei leaned close and whispered,“Sounds more fun than translating trade agreements. I get bored.”

She grunted loudly out of displeasure and touched his forearm to keep contact. Malcolm felt a rush run through his veins, her skin was soft like pastel green velvet. Even her grip was gentle with her long fingers wrapping over the muscles bound there.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” he said, raising a brow provocatively. His fingers interlaced with hers.

Her white lashes flicked up and down like cabbage butterflies’ wings over a dandelion. A deep hum informed him she really wanted to know what he was going to say.

“Sometimes, I get bored, too. Even though I’m constantly updating our weapons system capacity and intensity, we rarely engage them while on a discovery mission. I get a small thrill when we encounter a few hostiles here and there. For god’s sake, I am an armory officer after all.”

“A good one, it seems. Your shape is good.” She pointed at his body. So, she was complimenting him. All the effort he put into his training, and subsequently his appearance, was paying off.

“Well, physical conditioning is important for hand-to-hand combat.”

A dark shadow suddenly evaporated the very bright light that had previously illuminated their chairs, Oo-rei’s hand retreated back to her side. A look of surprise overtook her slim facial features into exaggerated round shapes. 

“Oor-ag-naki weaklings have no place here. This shoreline is for hardened warriors.” A familiar voice seethed.

Malcolm watched as his new friend, potential good time, gathered her things and remained tense. He turned around with a stern look on his face.

There she was, no longer in her uniform, but a skimpy leather-looking two-piece. Talas’ blue skin shimmered in Moradita’s sunlight like sparkling water, her ivory hair longer than last they met. Anger pooled into her clenched knuckles, and her stance hardened into the sands of the beach. She challenged this poor, delicate woman with every fiber of her being ready to fight.

That was not Oo-rei’s nature. Her quick retreat and betrayed expression moved Malcolm.

“You did not say you have a mate. You drink ‘Hot Sleep.’” she said scandalized. Her head bowed to Talas and calibrated her cylindrical device to say something in Andorian which he, of course, could not understand.

Before he could interject to explain that he was not unavailable or tied to this Andorian woman except for a one— well, actually two—time fling, the women continued to talk above him.

Talas replied, practically spitting, but softening the bend in her knees and lowering her arms to her side. Within seconds, all evidence of Oo-rei’s existence was out of sight. He was once again alone in his little corner of the beach.

Malcolm peered up from his chair to Talas. “Oo-rei was a very nice companion. That was extremely rude of you.”

The domineering Andorian snarled like a feral wolf, curling her lip. “She cannot compare.” 

“To what?”  he asked, standing up and stamping his toes into the hot sand. 

“To me. She doesn't have the same appetite for desire. You would simply waste your time with her.” 

Malcolm bit back a laugh, pressing his lips in a seal of disbelief. “Wait a minute. Lieutenant Talas, are you jealous?” 

“You are a son of military sons. You are a tactical strategist deserving of an equal to meet you in passion and pleasure.” Talas brushed aside her hair, swaying in the breeze seductively. “That is all.” 

“That's a very Andorian way of saying you are jealous.”

She stepped up to face him, chin pointed, and met him eye to eye. Despite her frigid home planet, Talas burned hot, absolutely smoking him out. He didn't flinch or back down, but there was an undeniable attraction orbiting them. 

“At our last meeting, I believe you enjoyed the Andorian way.”

Malcolm nearly swallowed his tongue. Normally, he'd have a quick biting comeback, a barbed quip in retaliation with anyone else. Instead, his only focus was on the sultry, cerulean blue of her luscious lips. His annoyance over Oo-rei being chased away, now a distant memory.

His Adam's apple bobbed with a hard swallow, as he refreshed his memory of her fine figure, her enthusiasm to be intimate with him over and over and—

“I do recall that, yes. And—”

The words didn't die on his lips; they were stolen from him as Talas grabbed the waist band of his swimming trunks and slammed him up against the nearest surface, a tall carved out rock-like formation with a concave shape for some privacy. 

He shuddered. His mouth claimed hers in a fury, arms pinning her against the rock next and addressing her jealousy thoroughly with nips along the taut path of her neck. 

God, he forgot how good it felt to be tangled up with her. What he'd been missing since the Andorians last visited and assisted Enterprise. It was like finding a pineapple upside down cake on a deserted island after a month of foraging. Beyond heavenly, almost surreal. 

Talas growled, unsnapping her own top and pressing her advantage as he was well-distracted with tending to this new development. 

They were evenly matched with every tug, bite, push, and pull. Malcolm moaned into her ear.