The equivalent of yellow alert didn’t really exist on a Klingon warship. You were either ready for battle or you weren’t ready for battle. It was a rather simply duality of existence that seemed to work for the Klingons but was starting to annoy Sidda. Summoned to the bridge by blaring klaxons was she unashamedly dressed in a blue shirt, purple pyjama pants and fluffy pink rabbit slippers. “Shut that damn alarm off,” she ordered as the door behind her started to close. “And since we’re not getting shot at, what’s all the fuss about?”

Deidrick was sitting in the captain’s chair, she was guessing admittedly based on proximity to the vacant seat, and therefore the nominal one to report, which he dutifully did with a padd in hand, offered to her with the finer points. “Storm intensity is beginning to diminish and faster than the math says it should. There’s something else to it too.”

He guided her over to a console, the screens and interface set up in a manner she’d not seen before, but was quickly able to realise was a science setup of some sort. She’d need to find out which of her crew set this up and thank them for it later. “There’s this weird dekyon energy signature to the storm now, which seems to be having a dampening effect to the subspace energy signature we’ve been noticing.”

“Oil on stormy waters,” Sidda said as she rubbed at an eye, trying to wake herself up. A few blinks, then she leaned in closer to look at the data, not that it made much sense to her. She’d likely need to recruit someone that was gifted in this particular field of endeavour soon enough.

“An apt analogy,” Deidrick replied. “Starfleet?”

“Doubtful. No one lives in this system remember? It’s a pointless star with pointless planets, unremarkable in all the ways that aren’t important.” She stood up and offered him a faint smile. “Hence why it’s perfect for ne’er-do-wells to hide in because no one is keeping their attention focused here.” His head nod was all the agreement she needed. “Keep an eye on the storm and maintain combat alert for now. If we can see better, so can those ravenous assholes out there.”

“Aye, ma’am.” Deidrick started to turn away, then stopped and turned back. “If the storm lowers in intensity significantly, should we make a break for it at impulse and jump to warp as soon as we can?”

She nodded over a yawn, offered a thumbs up and waved him off before setting off for the door. The order was understood well enough. But now that she was awake, for only the best officers made the best decisions on five hours of sleep, she went in search of that glorious bitter life-essence that would let her think properly.

She knew that walking through the ship in her slippers would likely add to the rumour mill, but she didn’t care. Does the captain have rabbit slippers? Does the captain have clothing that isn’t leather or dark in colour? It’s true, pink as Karuvian seas! Fluffy as Lin’ru’s fur! Right Lin’ru? The crew could do with learning their captain wasn’t a hardass right? Not like she hadn’t run through the ship more than once while trying to dress anyway.

“Kevak! Coffee!” she shouted as she entered the mess hall, bereft of any patronage of any sort, though echoing with noise from the galley. A glance at the wall clock that had appeared one day above the serving stations told her it was an hour before anyone else would be here, which explained why no one was present. Then her brain reminded her that the alarm had likely sent everyone scrambling back to their quarters or duty stations after all. “Kevak!” she repeated, feet leading her towards the galley.

She was stopped however by a sight wholly unexpected, feet planting firm on the deck and her own eyes cycling through blinks. Blink enough and the scene would change, reality would reassert itself and all would be normal once more, yes? But that failed to happen and she was forced to face what was before her.

Revin, in perhaps the most casual clothes she owned, with an apron as stark white as fresh snow, standing in the door from the galley, with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a small plate with something she didn’t recognise on it.

It was honestly shocking. She tried to speak a couple of times, failing to give form to any words. Her Revin didn’t work in the kitchen. Her Revin was a princess, her princess, her love that didn’t need to work, but here she was, dressed and acting as a mere kitchen hand.

And bringing coffee.

“Sit down love before you fall over,” Revin said in that lovely tone of hers that sounded so much like a command wearing the guise of a suggestion. Soon enough both women were seated at the nearest table opposite each other, the cup and plate set before Sidda. “Kevak said you know the rules.”

“Weren’t you in bed when I got up?” she asked, just the smell of the coffee was enough to kick her brain into a higher gear. “You were there when I went to bed.”

Revin’s smile was just delightful as she indicated the coffee, which Sidda lifted and sipped at with gusto. “I’ve been up for an hour now love. I’m Kevak’s new apprentice.” Revin’s posture went perfect, her chin even lifted slightly, taking pride in that announcement.

“But you don’t need to be,” she said after a sip. “Love…”

“I need to do something Sidda,” Revin cut her off. “I’m tired of just being a doll. Something you parade around when you need to and put away when required.” She met Sidda’s gaze firmly. “I love you but I need to do something.”

Sidda’s only response was to look Revin straight on, then set her cup down and reach for the other woman’s hands, collect them in her own and offer a slight kiss to the back of Revin’s hands. “I…I’m sorry. You aren’t some doll, you’re my heart. And if this makes you happy, then do it.”

“I also want to learn to fight,” Revin stated calmly. “Properly, and not from you. You’ll pull your punches.” She paused, then pulled her hands back slightly, to pull Sidda towards her, changing the dynamic of the table. “Orin can teach me.” Revin pulled again. “Deidrick will teach me to shoot.” Then once more, though tightening her grip so as not to lose her hands, forcing Sidda to lean forward slightly uncomfortably. “You can teach me to dance.”

“Uh,” was all she got out in a slight stammer before Revin silenced her with a kiss. The kiss lingered for a few blissful eternities before she broke it, sitting herself back down. “Yah, uh, okay Revin, if that’s what you want.”

Retreating to the coffee once more she took one whole sip before setting it down in a hurry. “Wait here!” She was on her feet and out the door in a hurry, through the corridors of the ship at a sprint and back again just as fast. However long it was, it was long enough for Revin to start eating one of the round bread things she’d brought out for her.

Avoiding skidding to a stop in front of Revin, she dropped to one knee beside the romulan woman and presented the ring box she’d taken from The Last Pirate King. The confused look on Revin’s face was priceless. She’d already proposed, what was she up to now? She couldn’t help but smirk at Revin, then open the box to reveal the contents inside.

The box itself was a masterpiece of simplistic design, a contrast to the contents. Nestled inside the black velvet sat an intertwined platinum band upon which rested a small but intricately wrought bird of prey, holding two emeralds in its claws and minuscule rubies for eyes. Diamonds rested on the tips of the feathers rendered in the same platinum. Truly a piece of art.

Shame it couldn’t be verified without either the papers or the original creator, a man dead over a century now.

“It’s beautiful,” Revin whispered. “But why?”

“Because that simple band doesn’t do you justice,” Revin indicated to the engagement ring she’d already given Revin. “But when I found out T’Rev also had the Ring of Chula I just knew I had to move up my plans.”

Revin studied the ring a few moments more than reached forth and quietly closed the box. “This is a wedding ring.”

“I’ll steal something grander for that.”

“No, you’ll give me this on that day.” Revin’s response was commanding, then followed with a smile. “You went to all this trouble, this plan to kidnap T’Rev and damage the criminal element in his sector all for a ring?”

“Sweetie, I’d rally a flotilla of warships and raze the quadrant like orion raiders of lore if I thought it’d make you happy.” And she meant it. But she shrugged, smiled. “Maybe another time.”

“Yes, maybe another time.” Revin leaned forward and kissed Sidda on the forehead. “Finish your coffee and split muffin, whatever that is. Put this back,” she indicated the ring box. “Then perhaps get us out of this system in one piece?”

“Yes ma’am,” Sidda said, stealing another kiss before she let Revin return to the galley. Kevak’s complaining about her absence was to be expected, but what caused her to spit her coffee across the mess hall was the string of klingon expletives she heard with Revin’s sweet voice.