S.S. Fawkes - CF-142AC
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I Just Need Something

Posted on Monday January 7th, 2019 @ 14:11 hours by Ares Onasis
Edited on on Monday January 7th, 2019 @ 14:12 hours

Mission: Smugglers Need Not Apply
Location: Ares's Guest Quarters - SB72

Ares jolted up in the bed as she gasped for air.

It happened again. His fingers, his cold deliberate fingers, had tightened around her neck as his golden eyes watched her breath squeeze out of her. Her own hand jumped up to check and double-check that it was, once again, just a nightmare.

And it was.

Looking all around the trashed bedroom of the quarters, she had to give herself time to let her skin crawl and bead with sweat and let her breathing return to normal. She was safe. For now.

Her eyes fell upon the body that dozed peacefully next to her, not having budged from her sudden movement. The sound of his gargled breath told her that she must have had about five beers too many before falling into bed with a total stranger and her new friend was suffering from his own alcohol-induced slumber.

‘Tis the life of a ramblin’ woman. She had only just arrived on Starbase 72 the day before and she definitely must have started her stay off with a bang. Unfortunately, she couldn’t remember anything outside of the dance club, including the meeting of her current bed partner. It honestly didn’t really matter at this point what had happened. All she worried about at the moment was getting the hell out of his quarters and back into her own.

Ares slid out from under the rough used sheets and into her awaiting black short shorts and gray fitted tee. Even her boots brought her a bit of comfort as she tied them up loosely around her exhausted feet. She really must have let loose out on the dance floor…

She once more looked at the dark outline of the man still passed out on his bed. It was a direct representation of her current life: she didn’t have one. At least she didn’t have one that had any meaning. It had been a year since Adam’s murder but her phaser scar still burned as if she had just been hit with a blast. Without him, without her career, she was barely able to keep her head above water.

Tying her hair up into a messy knot, Ares plopped onto her own couch in her own guest quarters. It was funny how she ended up here, so far away from Earth and the dreams from her past. Like a lost child she had hitched rides from strangers just to escape from the pain and the hatred. For a moment she had held her phaser pistol steady in her hand but then quickly placed it back into her dresser drawer. Adam would never have let her give up like a coward. Ares was no coward.

“Computer, News.” She had to distract herself before she was pulled into the abyss. The transmission began playing as she moved quickly to the replicator to produce the strongest cup of coffee she could get. Her head was already beginning to pound from the hangover. She had only been half listening when her ears suddenly picked up during the Federation Classified Ads began playing.

That’s exactly what she needed. She only had so much of her savings from her work as a cop and it was quickly drying up. She needed a job. She needed a job that gave her a bed and food and an opportunity to run as far away from Earth as she could manage. Earth, her home, had only brought destruction to her already unstable life.

“S.S. Fawkes,” Ares repeated after the advertisement explain the vessel’s need for a new Quartermaster. She wasn’t even sure she qualified for the work. It didn't hurt to check it out.

“Shit, I just need something.”


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