Tales From the Aurora (A Noir Story)

{Spoiler} It was raining hard that night, but not hard enough to keep me from forgetting her jumpsuit. I still remember it till this day, and the way her wet, raven-colored hair clung to her, the smell of her stuck to my tan overcoat as if it was her trying to keep me from going. She smelled of the sunflowers that I had picked up for her that morning from a hydroponics shop in Lowell City. Of course, the last thing I wanted to do was to leave her embrace, one I had grown so fond of these past few years. But duty calls, I guess. Wasn't much comfort as I saw her face from the shuttle's window. Thank the Maker tears look like rain through clouded eyes.
“Welcome aboard the NSS Aurora, please enjoy your productive shift, courtesy of Nanotrasen!” That same damned greeting we all received whenever we arrived aboard that station, but amid the usual crowd of eggheads with their foggy glasses, medical doctors with their bleeding red cross on their stark, white jumpsuits, those damned neerdowell security fuckers with their blood-red jumpsuits and stun batons secured to their waists, never far from reach, there was me. There was me, with my tan overcoat, Leo tucked into the holster hidden beneath. I've never had to fire the damn thing, but still, it never hurts.
The first thing I did, was what I always did, head straight to the bar. The burning sensation was always a welcome start to my shift, so I knew the familiar faces, the drunks of the station. But there was one face there that caught my eye from the beginning.
She sat on at the bar, sipping what seemed to be a glass of vodka, her blonde hair fell in golden waves, covering her shoulders. I'll never forget that red, plaid skirt and that dress shirt that seemed to accentuate in all the right ways. Reaching into my coat pocket and fingering the familiar silver coin I had carried for so long, I tried to work up my courage. After a few minutes (and admittedly, a few sips of some Uncle Git), I finally got the nerve to talk her up, and approached the lady with the cigarette half dangling her rose-colored lips, sitting in the corner of the bar, far away from the rest of the crew.
“Need a light?”
Her eyes widened slightly, and she quickly placed the glass in her hand down on the counter, before glancing over at me. Her eyes were a curious green, with a dab of honey near her pupils. Eyes I could get lost in, honestly.
“You gave me a bit of a fright, Mister,” she said with a flirtatious smile.
“It wasn't in my plan, lady, I bet your pardon,” I returned the smile before taking my hat off and placing it on the counter.
“Why, you can make up for it by taking a seat and helping me with this,” she motioned to the cigarette, now in her hand.
Placing my Zippo lighter on the counter for a moment, before pulling a stool closer to the dame, I took up the lighter and, after fumbling a bit trying to get it to light, held out my lighter beneath her cigarette. She flashed me a smile, a plane of white between two stark red lips, as she took a drag.
“You always this nervous, or is it just me?” she asked, her eyes radiating with curiousity through the smoke of her exhale.
“Only around beautiful dames, such as yourself,” I answered.
She tilted her head back in laughter, a rich sound that seemed to echo off of the bar walls, but before she could turn away, a flash of pain came across her once-curious eyes, the hint of honey gone now.
“I-I shouldn't be here,” she muttered to herself, taking down a long gulp of her drink, leaving her rose lips with a bit of shine to them.
“Oh, why not?” I asked, suddenly intrigued.
“If only he could see me now..oh, boy,” she said before trailing off, waving the lit cigarette about in gesticulation, the smoke trailing up towards the ceiling.
“Who is this 'he', if I might ask?” I asked, fishing out a cancer stick for myself and popping it between my lips.
“Oh..just..nothing. It's nothing to me, and especially nothing to someone I just met,” she said, before adding in, “No offense, of course, Mister...?”
I held up my holobadge, reading from it, “Jordan Fuentes, Detective, if it pleases you, Miss..?”
“Oh, now we're playing show and tell?” she grinned devilishly. “I don't know if I should tell you my name, Mister Fuentes. I could be the Captain of this fine vessel, you know,” she said with a playful laugh that seemed to give rise to a feeling I had not felt for years, now. Well then, this lady sure knows how to get butterflies going.
“Now,” I tried to play if off, calm and collected, “I wouldn't believe that for a second,” I retorted , flipping open my Zippo and lighting the end of my cigarette, taking in a nice drag of cool, refreshing menthol.
That sure got her attention, and she turned slightly, her golden locks flowing to expose the smooth contours of her neck. Her emerald eyes pierced my gaze with a stare that would put fear into the hearts of any would-be suitor. It was apparent she had played this game before, but then again, who hasn't? In that moment, any normal man would have taken that glare and cowered with their tails between their legs, but the Uncle Git had dulled my senses, so I sat there, puffing on the cigarette, waiting for her reply.
“Hm, you're a rather courageous one, Mister Fuentes. I like that,” She ashed the cigarette into the bronzed ashtray, then glanced at the Tajara standing vigilantly behind the bar, “Barkeep, I'd like a martini, please,” she called out melodically.
“A-and a rum and cola, for me, please,” I managed to utter, realizing the hesitancy that had crept into my voice so suddenly.
“Aw, what happened, hon? Cat got your tongue?” she smoothly asked, “Don't worry, Ja'kar will give it back,” she said with a lazy smile, exposing the one dimple on her left cheek and motioning slightly towards the Tajara behind the counter. A thousand and one different replies ran through my head, most of them derived from those late-night noir films that I couldn't stand to watch, but I decided to just play it cool and puff on my smoke, giving me a few moments of pondering what to say next.
“So, mind giving me another light?” she said ever-so-softly, barely more than a whisper. I noticed she had another cigarette pressed between those rose lips, unlit. I flipped open the Zippo in one fluid motion, just like I'd always did before. With an angel's touch, she guided the open flame to the cancer stick, hand over mine. I don't think I'll ever forget her fragile, gentle hands. She then began puffing on the cigarette, and looked me dead in the eyes, and I could see that flicker of curiosity go across her amber-speckled eyes.
“My name's Jade," she mused before sipping her drink slowly.
“Pleased to meet you, Miss Jade,” I said, trying to keep my ever-fleeing cool.
She let out a slight giggle at that, before chortling out, “That's Miss Jade Soles, to you, Mister. In fact, I have half of a mind to-”she paused, tapping her headset. “Hm. Right, I'll be right there, then,” she said to whoever was on the other line, before turning to me, and with a hint of sadness in her emerald eyes, said, “Sorry, hon. Duty calls.”
“Oh, that's alright, I probably shouldn't be-” but before I could finish, she was gone. Out of the airlock, out of sight, leaving behind only a half-filled martini and a man, puffing a cigarette, wondering who this mystery lady could be.
The mystery lady was soon put out of mind when there came a gruff voice yelling into my ear, “Detective Fuentes, my office, now!”
I guess this shift might be interesting, after all.