Dance your cares away
Posted on Thu Feb 22nd, 2024 @ 1:31pm by Lieutenant Commander Lylja Tigerlilly & Skili VaTemishon
1,199 words; about a 6 minute read
Mission:
Crossed Wires
Location: The Eclipse
Lylja stretched, the paperwork had been well-maintained, and it took her a remarkably short time. She then posted a note of thanks to the former acting chief. Such a joy working with motivated people.
“Bastet?” she said.
The QAI materialized on the desk, the hologram crisp and stable. “Yes, Lylja.”
“How are you feeling? Is the planetary system acceptable?”
“Yes, it has been good to be out and about again,” said the QAI. “The system advances are intriguing,”
“Well, I have done a task I had anticipated taking eight hours in three, so what should we do with the spare time?”
“We will do nothing, you have spent enough time with me over the last few weeks, Lylja,” said Bastet sternly. “You need to go out and be with people. Put on your dancing dress and show the locals how a Caitian can dance.” She struck a pose and pointed to the door.
“Yes, Bastet! Your command is my wish,” said Lylja as she stood up and stretched again. “That sounds wonderful actually, I have not been able to lose myself in some music and movement since . . .”
“None of that, young lady,” chided Bastet. “No worrying about the past for one night. Free your mind and the rest will follow.”
Lylja nodded and winked. “Good thing I replicated that party dress.”
“You always look good in indigo, my dearest,” said Bastet. “Now go! I will want to hear about the new music when you return.”
“I will, who knows what is popular these days?”
—-
Lylja adjusted her indigo dress, she had reduced her traveling tool kit to the absolute minimum she was comfortable with, it fit in a slim black messenger bag resting on her hip. A set of silver stars set with crystals decorated her ears and a sparkling electric lavender ribbon was tied in a bow always at the very tip of her tail. She disliked shoes but almost wished she had some to wear, just as another fashion accessory.
She took a deep breath and exhaled, letting her tension and work persona flow out. Tonight, she was here to dance. She strode into the Eclipse like she owned the place, her green-gold eyes sweeping over the interior. First up, the bar, she could feel some of the patrons watching her but she paid them no mind. “Mineral water, still, no ice,” she ordered.
The bartender provided it quickly. “Welcome to the Eclipse. Your first time here, I believe, I would have remembered seeing you before.”
“Yes, first but not last,” Lylja replied taking a drink. Staying hydrated was important. “How long until the band starts?”
The bartender glanced at the clock, “They are supposed to start in eight minutes but it will be more like half an hour, they are always late getting going.”
Lylja took another drink. “I will see if I can hurry them along then.”
“Good luck,” said the bartender watching her go. The bands never started on time.
Lylja maneuvered through the tables to the stage where the band was setting up. Their holographic display identified them as ‘the Nova-Tones’ and it was three humans, an Orion, and a Klingon? How unusual.
“Hello Nova-Tones,” said Lylja. “When will the music be starting? It feels like years since I last danced.”
The band looked over and the Orion came over, a well-dressed man with a guitar on a sling across his back. “It is going to be a bit, pretty one, we are having trouble getting our system to interface with the club’s sound system.”
“Not the first time,” growled the Klingon, a.statuesque woman and obviously the drummer, outfitted with drumsticks as though they were weapons.
“Then it is your lucky night,” said Lylja vaulting up onto the stage.
“Hey!” said the Orion. Lylja already had her datapad out.
“NTwork is your network, yes?” she asked. “Cute by the way.”
“Yes, but what . . .”
Lylja held up a finger, silencing him. “I will show you how to properly secure it after the show,” she scanned the information and quickly entered commands. “You realize you are three critical updates behind? No wonder it is not synchronizing properly.”
“Hey,” said one of the humans, “You were supposed to take care of that Redd.”
“I’ve been busy getting us shows,” the Orion said, turning to defend himself.
The Klingon stepped over. “Can you fix it? Redd is good with people but crap with tech.”
“Can I fix it?” said Lylja with a grin, her finger dancing over the datapad. “And you are right, he is. Your network is a kludged-together mess but it does not have to be with a few updates and a new network architecture.”
The Klingon watched. “Who are you?”
“Just someone who wants to dance. I’m Lylja by the way,” the Caitian said.
“My stage name is Skullcracker, but you can call me Skili.”
“A pleasure, Skili,” said Lylja, “And done. And the club’s network is patched too.”
“Drok!” said the Klingon. “I don’t suppose you are for hire?”
“No, I have a job,” Lylja said with a smile, slipping her datapad back into her bag.
“Just my luck,” said the KIngon, She turned to the rest of the band. “Come on you wankers! We have a show to do. This nice person has the tech sorted out so let give the people some music.”
They milled about getting things ready, until Skili smacked one on the back of the head and they got serious about it. Lylja hopped down and made it back to the bar to finish her water before the music started.
“You really did it,” said the bartender. “I am impressed.”
“Sometimes you have to put in some work if you want to get your dance on,” said Lylja draining the last drops from the glass.
“The next one is on me,” said the bartender as Lylja headed to the dance floor. She waved an acknowledgment.
“Hello Haumea!!” said the lead singer, a rangy human with a mop of blond hair. “We are the Nova-Tones! We are glad to be here. For our first song . . .” he want interrupted by a drumstick to the back of the head. “Oh, yeah, we wanted to thank Lylja the pretty one for sorting out our tech. Now, let’s have some music so you can dance!” He started to play and the rest of the band followed suit.
Lylja was front and center swaying to the music. For the next few hours, she just lost herself in the music and the dance, with an occasional pause for water. The band may not have been the best, but Skili’s beat kept the dance going, and the people were willing to join her on the dance floor. She led the applause at the end of the act. Genuinely exhausted, she made her way back to her quarters.
With a flicker, Bastet appeared, “You look pleased with yourself. Now get some sleep, I will make sure you get up in time.”
“Thank you, Bastet,” murmured Lylja. “I will tell you about the music tomorrow.” She flopped into bed.
“Rest well,” said Bastet as she turned down the lights.
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