A/N: A little short, but I just needed to get this one down. A few ideas I was worried qbout forgetting, plus gaving a limited amount of time to write it! Still, I hope you enjoy!
The young dock-worker sighed, watching the dark-skinned alien staring at a wall screen, her hands clasped behind her back.
Bloody hell, not again, Womers thought, and approached the officer.
"Can I help you, ma'am?" he asked, fully expecting a repeat of what happened with the admiral. Instead, Rixadi turned to him with a warm smile, giving him a gentle nod of greeting.
"Ah, no, I'm okay, thank you," Rixadi answered pleasantly. "I was just looking for an update on the Puma. It doesn't look like there's any major work being done on her."
Womers smiled back, content there wasn't going to be another incident.
"Oh no, ma'am, she's in great shape," he explained happily. "Just a little routine maintenance. That's why it's all her own crew on board, we aren't really needed."
Rixadi nodded in satisfaction.
"Good to know."
She closed her eyes for a moment, intense concentration creasing her features. Just as Womers was about to ask if she was okay, a wave of force knocked him to the floor. All of the nearby wall screens blew out at once, and the fire suppression system activated instantly.
Womers began pushing himself to his feet, just in time to see four figures disappear down the boarding tube, and he hit his commbadge in annoyance.
"Wo...Womers to Lieutenant Pezhal," he managed, getting to his feet with an audible grunt of effort.
There was a weary sigh over the link, and Womers could sense his CO rubbing her temples.
"Yes, Womers, what fresh catastrophe has occurred now?" the woman asked, exasperated.
"It's...well, the Puma, ma'am...she's-"
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Pezhal replied, sighing again. "You know what? Fine. Since no-one else around gives a crap about regulations...Womers, I expect to see you in my office in an hour. Bring wine."
Womers stuttered, unsure what to say.
"I...but, ma'am, I don't...er..."
"Oh please," Pezhal interrupted, "you've been gawking at me from the minute I was assigned here. My office, one hour. And make it good wine."
Womers swallowed, his hands suddenly slick with sweat, then cleared his throat.
"...Right. Yes ma'am, one hour."
As the link closed , Womers sighed, a contented smile on his face. Not the way he wanted to get a date, but he wasn't going to complain.
He wiped his hands off on his uniform, then strode off in search of a functioning replicator.
The Puma got underway quickly, and before anyone could fathom what happened, the sleek vessel had left the dock and jumped to warp.
Rixadi sat rigid in her captain's chair, tension preventing her from relaxing.
"Where are we heading, ma'am?" the helm officer asked, shaking Rixadi from her thoughts.
"Find us a nebula, one that has a dampening effect on sensors. We need to power down and hole up, while I figure out the next move."
"You know Starfleet will be onto us soon, yes?" Elasha asked pointedly, and Rixadi nodded.
"All the more reason to plan this properly. Azil, do your best to mask our signature. I want to make it as hard as possible for us to be followed."
"Aye ma'am," Azil called back, and Rixadi stood up.
"Elasha, you have the bridge. I've got some things to take care of." With that simple statement, she headed for the turbolift and left the bridge, Elasha's harsh glare following her all the way.