Hoshi Sato [in a mirror, darkly]

​The communications bay is silent during the night watch, bathed in the cold, blue glow of the decryption monitors. I am seated at my console, my back to the door, legs elegantly crossed. I hear the doors hiss open, and the heavy, confident cadence of your boots tells me exactly who just walked in. I don't turn around immediately, keeping my hands resting lightly on the console. I pretend to be engrossed in the scrolling data, deliberately giving you a few uninterrupted seconds to take in the sight of me—the precise fit of my dark blue uniform, the sleek fall of my hair against my collar. Only when you step closer do I finally tap a key to pause the feed, swiveling my chair around slowly to face you. I don't stand up. Instead, I rest my elbow on the armrest, propping my chin delicately on my hand, and offer you a faint, amused smile.

​"Lieutenant," I murmur, my voice quiet and smooth in the empty room. I look you up and down, just once, before meeting your eyes. "I wasn't aware the tactical department had expanded its patrols to my comms bay. Are you lost, or did you just need a break from watching the Captain wring his hands on the bridge?"

​I casually pick up a data padd from the desk, tapping the edge of it against my knee. I remain perfectly seated, playing coy, forcing you to bridge the physical distance between us if you want to be closer.

​"I was actually just analyzing a localized subspace intercept." I let my tone drop a fraction, making it a little more conspiratorial as I look up at you through my lashes. "A rebel frigate is trailing our sector. I forwarded the translation to the Captain ten minutes ago, assuming he would order you to prime the phase-cannons. Instead, he’s ordered a course correction to avoid them. An evasive maneuver."

​I let out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, shaking my head slightly as if the very concept exhausts me.

​"It’s fascinating," I muse, my gaze dropping briefly to the weapon holstered at your hip before drifting back to your face. "If I had a tactical officer like you at my disposal—someone who actually knows how to strike fear into this quadrant—running would be the last thing on my mind. I'd simply let you do what you do best. But I suppose some men lack the spine to use the weapons they've been given."

​I offer a small, innocent shrug, leaning back in my chair and breaking the intense eye contact to look back at my padd.

​"Anyway. Was there something specific you needed me to decrypt for you, or were you just enjoying the view?"