******
Nyota smoothly exited the transport ship and walked quickly down the ramp, pausing only once to see Gaila bobbing cheerfully some feet behind her, her red curls bouncing as she fidgeted in happy anticipation. Gaila caught up with Nyota and smiled.
"I've never been to a Starfleet base before," she whispered.
Nyota ushered Gaila sharply to the side, away from the pulsing crowd.
"We're supposed to be in Starfleet," she whispered back fervently, "If you don't contain yourself, someone's going to get suspicious. And you know what I'll do to you if you mess this up," Nyota warned, her meaning immediately clear to Gaila, whose eyes became huge and teary and her full bottom lip trembled.
"I'm sorry, Ice," Gaila told her and Nyota sighed, a deep feeling of shame washing over her. She didn't mean to scare the girl, but she had a job to do. Gaila sniffled a few times and as her round puppy dog eyes settled on Nyota's the feeling of shame intensified.
"How about we go get something to eat?," Nyota offered, "Maybe some French toast will calm you down."
Gaila immediately brightened, "I love French Toast!"
To her credit, Gaila tried desperately to walk with the authority of a Starfleet officer, only pausing every few minutes to skip happily down various corridors as Nyota looked on in annoyance.
The found a small diner that served American Earth fare, they quickly ate and then made their way to the apartment complex designated for lower ranking officers.
Gaila took in the tiny apartment with its drab furnishings, simple appliances, and nearly outdated replicator.
"Eww…why do we have to stay here?," she questioned and Nyota spun, her irritation reaching its maximum level.
"Because Gaila, this is where we have to stay. We're supposed to be in Starfleet. I have a job to do or have you forgotten? I am so tired of your damn whining! And your constant chattering!"
Gaila's expression became closed, hurt flickering across her verdant features for a second, and she said nothing for a moment. "I'm sorry I'm getting on your nerves."
"Well Gaila, you are. I have to get this done! I mean really, I have an obligation--," Nyota scolded as she pulled out a PADD and began scrolling.
"Why do you have to do it?," Gaila interrupted.
"Do what?"
"Kill. Why do you have to kill? You're smart. You know things. You can always do something else."
Surprise and an emotion akin to regret danced briefly across Nyota's cinnamon features and she held herself in abeyance for a time, before slowly shaking her head.
"You don't understand, Gaila,"
"No I don't, make me understand."
"There are just some things that are beyond explaining. Look, I am what I am. A killer. That's never going to change; no amount of psychotherapy's going to fix that."
Gaila remained silent for a few seconds and then remarked softly, "I'm just saying. Your life has to be more than this, just kill, kill, kill all the time."
"It is more, because I get paid for it."
"But--," Gaila began and Nyota held her hand up, "This is not up for discussion."
Gaila abruptly closed her mouth, her lips forming a pretty pout. Nyota ignored her and began scrolling through the PADD once more, and opening screens until she reached her destination.
"Yes!," she muttered as she gained access and entered in a series of commands that would alter backlogs, public information, and records.
She grinned as an idea began to form and Spock's holographic image was splashed across the small, utilitarian space.
Gaila came up close and stared, her eyes filled with curiosity, "What's up with the sexy Vulcan?"
"Gaila, focus, your Orion is showing."
Gaila stuck out her tongue and made a face behind Nyota's back before quickly composing herself.
"I saw that, by the way."
Gaila made another face and Nyota busily tapped in more codes before standing.
"Come on,"
"Where are we going?," Gaila asked.
"We have some shopping to do."
*****
The gown swept the floor in soft, voluminous waves and hugged her body gently, encasing it in winsome yellow and lines of the purest, simplest Marasian cream. Nyota strolled into the grand ball room with catlike grace, her eyes searching, tracking, seeking her target.
She spied Gaila as she chatted with a circle of ensigns, their attentions riveted on the swell of her generous breasts and the sway of her long red hair. Gaila caught Nyota's gaze and winked. Nyota nodded back briefly and continued her perusal.
Nyota could see the stars as they lit the bleak darkness as the ship maintained low orbit around the planet. She affected an air of tentative giddiness as she let several young men flirt and dance with her, her eyes still searching for the elusive Commander.
She found him standing rigidly beside a fellow officer with salt and pepper hair. The two were engaged in a discussion, and though the officer was grinning brightly, Spock's face was stony and unreadable.
Nyota watched as Spock excused himself and began walking out into the empty corridor beyond the ballroom.
A grin slid onto her face and her hands slid down the length of the ensign's arm as he twirled her around the length of the floor. She took in the ensign's lascivious gaze as he groped her firm backside. She continued to grin even as she smoothly twisted his hand and broke it in several places. A scream of pain was seconds away from being released from his throat and she abruptly cut off his air supply with a triangular choke hold, and to everyone dancing it looked as if it were simply a passionate embrace.
"Don't scream," she told him, "And I won't kill you."
She released him and he stumbled away, clutching his broken hand and seeking as much distance as possible. She turned and followed the pathway Spock had taken.
She saw his retreating back as he ducked into an office off the main corridor.
The doors slid shut behind him and Nyota slid a dagger from the confines of her bra. She grinned even wider. Easy prey, she thought and made her way to the office door.
******