"Fireside Chat -- The Last Night"
Posted on 28 Jan 2026 @ 10:32pm by Lieutenant Commander Riah Amberlyn XMD & Lieutenant Francis "Steven" Remington
1,275 words; about a 6 minute read
Mission:
Lathira Shoreleave
Location: Cabin in the Forest - Lathira IV
Timeline: Shore Leave
// Cabin in the Forest – Lathira IV – Shore Leave //
The fire crackled softly in the stone hearth of the cabin, casting amber shadows that danced across the paneled walls. Outside the open doorway, the breeze rustled through tree branches and a gentle rain from a passing squall peppered the metal roof. It was just full dark outside. Night creatures had started their nocturnal songs.
Riah sat curled in an armchair, gazing at the flames, a pale aqua hand-knit shawl draped across her shoulders. It wasn’t cold enough for a fire, but the promise of the atmosphere, and the ease of the holographic fire, made it irresistible. She’d heard from Steve in late afternoon, a courtesy call to let her know he would likely not be back until close to dark.
Bootsteps clomped up the steps to the porch and she roused from her dreamy reverie. He peeked in the doorway and was thoroughly taken aback by the cozy, welcoming ambiance of the room. He backed out, as though perhaps he was interrupting something intimate within. He stood outside the door for a long moment, listening for voices. He created a little noise, removing his damp, muddy boots.
“You okay?” called Riah, turning in the chair.
He sighed, relief, and then felt foolish for his suspicions. He entered, cheeks flushed. “Yeah, yeah,” he hurried to reply. “Taking off my dirty boots.”
“I started a fire … or conjured one. You can turn on a light if you want.”
“Nah, it’s good.”
“It’s just sort of …cozy,” she continued. “Silly, seems like such an ancient sight, fire in a hearth. Maybe an ancient ritual even.”
Steve sat down in the companion chair, the small table between them. “Yeah.”
A quiet easy silence settled again in the room, the holo-fire authentic in its pop and crackle; a piece of a burning log succumbed to the flames and broke in two.
He had his legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, as appeared to be his custom when relaxed. Riah noticed and felt her body react to his woodsy sensuality. The cabin felt like a sanctuary, far from the bustle of the resort, cocooned in silence and comfort.
Eventually their eyes met -- just a fleeting glance, but enough to ripple the air between them. His were dark, hooded in the firelight. Hers were lighter blue than they seemed in daylight, and glassy from staring into the hypnotic flames. Neither could hold the gaze for long. Riah’s returned to the fire, searching for some answer or revelation. Steve’s closed, mind brooding over the dead badger-like creature he had come upon on his walk. It didn’t appear to have been wounded as by a fight, or poisoned. Beautiful animal. Just like it laid down and gave up its spirit to the forest.
“Had a good hike. Walking in real gravity is more challenging than I expected,” he admitted quietly. “Stopped a lot. Took some images I’ll show you later.”
“See any other people?” she asked without looking away from the fire.
“Nope. I heard somebody but they must have been on a parallel trail because I never saw anyone. What’d you do today?”
“Wrote a letter, hiked a little up the trail and back, took a nap in the hammock and took the canoe for a spin around the lake. There are some critters in there, like maybe otters or beaver or something. They barely paid any attention to me. Very playful, more like swimming squirrels,” she replied.
For a while, neither spoke, content to listen to the on and off tapping of raindrops on the roof, just short bursts, showers, the soft murmur of the fire.
“Want a glass of wine or bourbon, water? Whatever suits your fancy," he asked.
“Bourbon? Sounds good,” she said without apologies.
Sock-footed, Steve obtained two drinks from a bottle with a label on the kitchen counter. He briefly wondered if the bottle were replicated and placed on the counter for show, or if it were truly the genuine thing. He had asked for a “bar” of wine and bourbon in his reservations.
Silent feet brought the glasses to the two armchairs and he handed one to Riah. Their eyes met again and this time neither looked away. “Thank you,” she said, and they each took a sip, eyes curious upon the other.
Steve was pleasantly surprised. Whether it was replicated in the bottle or genuinely aged liquor, it was good. As if compelled by a shared sense of wonder, they exchanged shy smiles. She noticed how the light from the flames softened his features, how he enjoyed their quiet amiability with gentle grace.
“Long day?” she asked quietly.
He nodded. “But it led me here.” He smiled, conspiratorial. “Maybe it’s fate. Fire was a good idea.”
“So was bourbon,” she added.
They laughed, the ease blossoming between them. “Just good luck there,” he admitted. “I was afraid it might be caramel colored water.”
“This is good caramel colored water,” she held the glass up for a toast, which he answered in kind. “This is the last night of shore leave. I’m trying not to think about tomorrow before I have to.”
Her words hovered, warm and uncertain. “Let’s not talk about that then,” he replied, winking.
Instead, they spoke of simple things—favorite winter memories, distant hometowns, dreams that felt close and far. With each story, the world outside faded until only the circle of light around them remained. She found herself watching his hands as he talked, the way he listened as if every word mattered.
Hours drifted by, unnoticed. The logs in the hearth settled, glowing softly to embers. They lingered, finally sitting back into silence, but unwilling to leave the haven they’d found.
Eventually, Riah rose and moved to the porch, stepping down onto the damp gravel pathway immediately in front. She looked up at the stars, bright, twinkling, not sweeping past her at unimaginable speed. He followed her out. Side by side, they watched night pass them by.
He turned his eyes to her face, the profile, now gazing across the lake, flitting across the water and filtering through the trees and beyond. He hesitated but finally spoke. “Riah. I’d like to be more than friends.”
She smiled, a little wistful, sensing the weight of the moment, weight she wasn’t sure she could share. “Maybe. Or maybe this is perfect now.”
He nodded, understanding, not showing his disappointment. The world seemed to narrow to the space between them, charged with possibility. Slowly, he reached for her hand. She closed the distance, her hand fitting perfectly in his, as if it were a practiced grip.
They leaned together, foreheads touching, breath mingling in the warm air. He brushed a stray lock from her brow; she closed her eyes, letting the moment envelop her. Their lips met -- not urgently, but with gentle devotion, a promise carried in silence. The kiss lingered, filled with something unspoken.
When they parted, the hush of the night returned. “Perfect,” she whispered, stepping back. He watched her mount the steps, her silhouette dissolving into the soft light inside.
He lingered, the echo of her touch still warming his skin. The gentle rain had cleared a path and the world felt transformed -- softer, brighter. With a quiet smile, he settled into the rocking chair on the porch, heart aglow with hope, and the taste of her bourbon on his lips.
~~~
LtCmdr Riah Amberlyn, XMD
Chief Medical Officer
USS Arawyn
&
LT Steven Remington, PhD
Science Officer, Xeno-Zoologist
USS Arawyn
RSS Feed