A single lightbulb cast its tired rays over the interrogation room, giving a foreboding air which made Cuke's muscles tense in a fight-or-flight response. He had only his black flip phone to keep track of time, and with the lack of cell service, he was not able to do much besides count the minutes of solitude.
"They'll get nothing out of me," he told himself, glancing at his reflection in the one-way glass on one side of the interrogation table. He could only guess how many dastardly criminals were on the other side. Maybe Luntar the Thinks He's SoCool was laughing at him right then, thinking he could break the Star Fleet captain like a cracker.
Cuke settled back in his chair, weighing his escape options. Besides the cell phone, his resources included two chairs and an interrogation table, one Fleet-issued spacesuit with his surname embroidered in the front, his car keys, his rugged looks, and his cool demeanor in the face of danger.
What did his enemies have? Just about anything they needed, including the frozen-yogurt machine which they had stolen from Cuke's ship, the USS Applepies.
Chances of success: slim.
But not zero.
When the door opens, I can play it cool, then throw one chair at the guards, then use the other chair to fight off anybody in the hallway, he considered. From there, he might grab a laser gun from one of the guards, then find his way back to the dungeon to rescue Mr. Spork and T-Bot, and fight his way out of Luntar's fortress, all the while looking cool and daring.
Cuke nodded to himself, satisfied and confident, and just in time. Footsteps arose in the hallway outside, and the beep of a passcode was entered. Cuke innocently whistled, using his invisible grasp to take hold of his chair, ready to spring.
…But all thoughts of a violent escape left him when the armored door opened, and a gorgeous, alien vegetable sauntered into the room. She looked like a rhubarb, yet had a cyan complexion and azure hair braided and adorned with a golden headdress and gold hair ties. She wore purple robes, like the other members of Luntar's horde, and a golden belt completed the ensemble.
"Luna," Cuke gaped. "What's this all about?"
"Asking questions is my job, Captain," was her terse reply.
Cuke could not stop himself from gulping.
Years ago, Cuke had spent a vacation backpacking around Planet Jambalaya, enjoying spectacular sights on the blue bayou and sampling the local cuisine. Luna had been in his tour group, and the two had hit it off, sticking together for reasons other than adhering to the buddy system. After a wonderful vacation, they had parted with the promise to correspond, but Cuke had not seen her in two years. Discovering her among Luntar's horde as the pirate's right-hand vegetable had been the last place he would have expected to find her — yet, in hindsight, it kinda made sense, considering her temper.
Cuke warily studied her. Earlier, when he and Spork had been dragged in front of Luntar, Cuke had tried to make her laugh with a few blue-related pun, like he had back during their vacation, but she had strangely grown cold, even going so far as to ask Luntar about interrogating Cuke and Spork.
Shot in the dark, but it seems like Luntar granted her request. He winced to himself. As Luna drew near, Cuke asked, "Are you here as a good cop? Or a bad cop?"
She hopped up onto the table and brought her knee up, sitting at an angle in the rhubarb equivalent of crossing her legs.
"You can decide that, Captain."
"I would prefer a good cop, to be honest," he admitted, "but you won't find out where the Applepies is from me, even if you become the bad cop. A Star Fleet captain never betrays his crew."
She gave him a dry look. "My, my, that's something. Who knew Star Fleet took such an interest in the morality of their officers."
Cuke lifted his head, puffing out his chest.
"Star Fleet drills every cadet who goes through the academy on loyalty," he declared. "Loyalty to God, loyalty to your home planet, loyalty to friends, brand loyalty. We stick together through thick and thin."
Her eyes grew bitter. "And what's Star Fleet's stance on keeping promises?"
"They're all in favor of them," Cuke bragged. "A Star Fleet member must not make rash promises, because once you give your word, you're supposed to keep it."
"Even when it comes to sending a girl emails?"
"Of course! In fact, Admiral Nezzer once said—" He stopped short, recollection striking him like a brick through a window. He gulped, shrinking back. "Riiiiight…"
"Right," she deadpanned.
Cuke stared at the table, wanting to sink beneath it.
At that Jambalayan spaceport, they had hung out at the Burger Bell in the food court, waiting for their separate shuttles. Cuke had pulled his chair around the small square table so that he could sit closer to her. He already felt like he had known her for years, and he relished how comfortable she acted around him, yet still there was an alluring mystique, beckoning him to learn more. But he couldn't right then, and it could be several Earth months, if not years, before he could see her again. Could such a starry romance last long when they were headed for different quadrants of the galaxy?
When he escorted Luna to her shuttle, she kissed his cheek and said, "Write me?"
"Of course," he responded automatically, too absorbed in their final moments to remember an important detail.
Now, his face burned like a miniature supernova. He glanced hurriedly at the one-way glass, then swallowed.
"I can explain."
Luna scoffed, tossing her blue head.
"I'm sure you've just been too busy, right?" she said in a voice that could have made the Sahara seem like Lake Michigan. "A big, important Star Fleet captain is too important to deal with us plebs. You probably have all sorts of girls to email, and you just can't keep track of us all. I just happened to slip through the cracks of your social life."
"I don't have that kind of social life," he mumbled, "and I wanted to write, except… except…"
He looked again at the reflective glass. He could picture Luntar laughing his head off at his embarrassment.
"Except I wasn't cool enough for you?" she cracked bitterly.
"No," he replied, forcing himself to raise his gaze towards hers, "except I wasn't cool enough for you."
She lifted her head, narrowing her eyes. "What do you mean?"
His face burned. "Luna, when I speak, I might across as brave, dashing, handsome, debonair, confident, witty, attractive, intelligent—"
"And oh so modest," she interpolated, watching him carefully.
"Exactly," he nodded vehemently, "but when it comes to writing… well… I'm about as gifted as a sun chicken trying to scratch out a poem in the sand. Actually, a sun chicken is probably better at writing to a girl than me," he added with a shake of his head.
"You can't be that bad."
"Ask anybody, and they'll tell you my emails lack my usual sauve faire," he insisted. "When I made my promise, I… forgot how dorky my emails come across."
"But you could have tried anyway."
"I did!" he protested. "I'd pull up my email, put in your address — then just stare at the blank page, trying to come up with something that would wow you." He grimaced. "But I never could, so I never hit 'Send,' so I just kept filling up my Drafts folder."
"And you thought complete silence was better?" she challenged. "Leaving me to write out all my feelings to a void? Wondering if my emails were going through? Or if you had gotten hurt? Or wondering what— what I did wrong."
She looked away, gritting her teeth, yet in the midst of her anger, pain shimmered in her eyes. Cuke gulped, shooting to his feet.
"You could never do anything wrong, Luna!" he insisted. "Well, yeah, you're working for Luntar the Lock-You-Up, but you are amazing! Out of this world! Stellar! And— see how much easier it is for me to say it?" he cried, exasperated. "If I tried to type it out, it would look so stupid on the screen!"
"Not to me," Luna said quietly. "At least a silly email would have meant I mattered to you."
The protest on his lips halted. He wished he had a foot so that he could kick himself.
Boy, I really messed up.
He had been so fearful of looking like a dork to Luna that he instead made himself look like a heartless jerk. His shy silence had all but audibly declared to her she wasn't worth keeping a promise to.
Cuke sighed, slumping against the table
"You're right, Luna," he said, eyes downcast. "An uncool email is probably better than no email. I should've kept my promise. I'm sorry."
She shifted on the table, slipping her leg forward until she sat on the edge beside him, her knee brushed against his spacesuit. Her invisible touch took hold of his collar, gently prodding him to look up. An absolutely gorgeous smile met him.
"You're kinda cute when you apologize."
A small smile appeared on his face. "Then I'll try to do it more often."
"It's a good look for you."
They both chuckled. Luna held onto him, and Cuke noticed then just how close she was. Kinda like when they had danced on the blue bayou.
"Shame we have an audience," he said softly, half-jokingly nudging his head toward the one-way glass.
"Oh, there's no one back there," she said casually.
His eyes shot toward her, intrigued. "There's not?"
Her eyes glittered. "It's just you and me here, Cuke."
He leaned forward. "Is that so?"
She gave a humming chuckle, inclining her head toward him. Their faces were mere inches away, but before they could draw nearer, a beep chirped on the door's keypad, in the electronic equivalent of a knock. Luna drew back, leaving Cuke mid-pucker, and slipped off the desk.
"Perfect timing," Cuke exhaled as she strode over to the door.
Luna winked at him over her shoulder before she adopted a professional demeanor, curtly opening the door to reveal a carrot guard.
"Yes?"
The guard straightened smartly. "Luntar wishes to see you, ma'am."
Luna jerked a nod. "Very well then. Prepare to escort this prisoner back to his cell then."
She coolly turned and marched back to Cuke, but she discreetly gave him a kind, grim look.
"I hope I see you again, Cuke," she said softly, with a note of finality.
"Short of the planet blowing up, you will," he joked in low voice.
She didn't smile. She gave him a pained look before she jerked her head, indicating for him to start heading for the guard. Not wanting to get Luna in trouble, Cuke complied, biding his time. He gave Luna a last longing look before the guard grabbed hold of his collar and marched him away.
In moments Cuke was once again deep in the lower levels, but as he and the guard descended the last flight of stairs, Cuke was surprised to find a little asparagus just outside the cell, talking with Spork and T-Bot.
The guard cleared his throat, looking awkward. "Oh, Master Oliver. Didn't realize you were down here."
"Just sharing my lunch with my new friends," the asparagus replied with a cheerful grin before he turned to Cuke. "Want some of my sandwich?"
"It's really tasty," Spork assured Cuke, holding up half of a sub.
"You can leave the cucumber with me, Gerald," Oliver told the guard. "I take full responsibility."
The guard cleared his throat. "But, young master—"
"Trust me," Oliver chirped confidently.
The asparagus must have been pretty important in Luntar's pecking order, or had impressive fighting abilities, because Gerald only gave him one uncertain grimace before obeying, retreating up the stairs. Cuke felt tempted to bolt, but with Spork still locked up, he knew he had to play along until they could both escape.
Once the guard's footsteps faded, Spork motioned Cuke over with a green juice box which he held.
"Oliver here has been telling us about Luntar," Spork said softly, "and how he's been trying to power their sun before it goes supernova."
Cuke started, eyes bulging.
"Run that by me again?"
Hours later, after the U.S.S. Applepies turned over one of their T.U.N.I.C. engines to lob into Tootany's sun, Luntar invited the whole crew onto the vacation planet as thanks. After spending a little time with their former foes, Cuke dismissed his officers and interns to enjoy their shore leave, and he retreated to a nice solar-themed cafe to enjoy a chocolate frappé and a pricey pudding cup out on the sunny patio filled with umbrella-covered tables.
"Worth it," Cuke hummed around his spoon, closing his eyes with relish while the gourmet pudding galvanized his taste buds. "I wonder if they offer a bulk discount…"
"I think Luntar can arrange something for you as thanks," a pleasant voice laughed.
Cuke shot to his feet, grinning at the blue beauty who sashayed over to him from the sidewalk. Her golden headdress glistened in the restored sunlight, but the shine in her eyes downright dazzled Cuke.
"You're just the cherry on top that I needed for this day," he told her.
Luna stepped into the shade of his table's umbrella, giving him a little smirk. "Only a cherry?"
"You're a whole sundae in my book," he replied, his countenance growing flirtatious.
"And you're a real smoothie," she quipped, half-sitting, half-leaning against the table. She looked as relaxed as when they had enjoyed that beautiful vacation together. "Luntar already thanked you publicly, but I wanted to do so privately."
"No thanks necessary," Cuke insisted, with a twinge of guilt. "I'm just glad we got the engine to you on time."
In hindsight, he wished he had acted sooner, instead of deliberating so long on his ship; innocent people could have gotten hurt, including Luna, if he had not been so greedy. At least, it all worked out. The planet hadn't even needed to evacuate.
Luna, however, smiled at him and slid her invisible touch over his collar. "Well, I'm glad it was you who Star Fleet sent to find Luntar, Cuke. Another captain might not have acted as you did."
Cuke leaned into her gentle caresses. "I wasn't about to let you get blown up, Luna."
"My hero."
He grinned, glanced at his pudding, then held it up. "Wanna share with me, Luna? It's almost as sweet as you."
Luna's smile altered into a cute little smirk.
"Careful, Captain," she purred. "When you share a spoon with a girl, it results in some indirect kissing."
Smiling, he leaned against the table. "Only indirect?"
"Oh, you never know," she hummed, taking the pudding cup and spoon from his invisible grasp. "The day is still young."
"Now, that would be something I'd be interested in sharing," he murmured, gazing at her pretty, blue lips.
"Me, too," she answered, fluttering her eyelashes.
Brightening, Cuke leaned forward — but Luna laid the plastic spoon against his puckered lips, making him stop.
"After you email me," she smiled coyly, taking a step back.
Cuke sputtered. "C'mon, Luna! I can do that later!"
"My love language is words of affirmation," she sang, dancing away from him with his pudding cup. "Words are the best way to woo me, mon capitaine."
"At least give my pudding back," he protested, stepping after her.
"Take out your phone and send an email," she laughed. "It'll take you ten seconds."
It actually took him twenty, because he had to log into the cafe's guest Wi-Fi, but once he hit "Send," Luna was as good as her word.
THE END
A/N: Why a broken promise and not something major? Well, when Luna first reunites with Cuke, she's happy to see him. If he had done something more tragic (e.g. cheat on her, leave her at the altar, etc), she probably wouldn't have acted so flustered and pleased.