Make Me Move, Make Me Sway, Part II
Posted on Tue Feb 17th, 2026 @ 2:40pm by Ensign Garabed "Garo" Hakobyan & Ensign Tenzi Sh'reyva & Master Chief Petty Officer Vashti Rao & Petty Officer 2nd Class Zal Rixi & Josef Forstinger & Lieutenant JG Jason Williams III & Petty Officer 3rd Class Dallas Reese
Edited on on Sun Mar 15th, 2026 @ 3:44pm
1,824 words; about a 9 minute read
Mission:
Shadow in the Static
Location: The Silk Slipper, Los Angeles, California
Timeline: April 1944
~Previously: Make Me Move, Make Me Sway, Part I~
Dot snorted softly, already sliding the whiskey sour onto her tray. "Of course he does," she said, as if correcting a child. "Johnny is the bartender." She gave Daphne a wink that felt older than the war and turned, her hips knowing the path and disappearing through the stage's side exit toward Cesare's smoky booth.
The space she left behind felt a little cozier. Johnny was still there, his hands now empty, the towel slung over one shoulder. Daphne could smell the citrus from the Pink Lady, the gin was sharp, and beneath it all was his familiar scent--something she had grown accustomed to over months of working with him. Some shifts, she even looked forward to drinking him in.
She took a sip, buying herself a second. They'd worked together for too long for this moment to be new, yet it always felt like a new trick of the light in the way he seemed to look at her.
A brief memory flashed across his mind that caused the grin to falter a bit and rub at the now faint scar on his arm: the dungeon, the chains, the searing pain in his arm. It had been that way for a while now and something he hadn't told his counselor about.
Recovering just as quickly as the memory came on, Johnny chuckled. He liked Vashti, even though she'd told him off a few times for various things while they'd been on shift. Too bad she had something going with Garo. "You reckon I could pull that look off? And you'd promise not to get jealous if I managed to steal someone else's heart?" His voice was playful, flirty and downright mischievious.
"I thought you'd already stolen the boatswain's heart," Vashti mused, adjusting a strap to her dress.
He shrugged in reply, "I wouldn't say stolen, more like borrowed and then given back in one piece when it didn't work out." Aiden was a nice guy and all, but the spark and promise of something more fizzled out way too soon for both of them, and he and Dallas had decided to remain friends as a result. No harm to it.
"I'm sorry," Vashti said softly, touching his arm. "Funny thing about hearts is they never forget who once held them. Even when they're borrowed."
She looked back up at him. The grin had come back, but it wasn't doing the same work it had a moment ago. There were seams in it now. Places where it seemed something invisible and heavier pushed down. She wondered--in the briefest and most selfish of ways--what he kept hidden there.
Vashti was almost startled with by the sound of the band taking their place on the stage. The drummer was testing-out the bass drum and the snare and the sound of muffled laughter from the other side of the curtain caught her attention.
A laugh came out as a snort instead and he covered it up with a cough to save her embarrassment at the startle. "Looks like it's almost your time to shine, and my cue to leave. Break a leg and I'll see you up at the bar afterwards, you'll smash it like always."
"Thanks, Dallas... I mean, Johnny." Vashti laughed as he turned and made his way to the stage exit. It was time for her to begin some warm-up vocal exercises while the house band prepared.
And with that, Vashti turned and began working her vocal chords in short bursts, tasting each note as she did.
The lights were soft and amber--already dimmed--when Tenzi strode in from the green room. She wondered if the entire club was nursing a hangover except the twenty or so patrons seemed far more lively than that. She shifted in her sequined dress, just enough that it sparkled in the lamps without completely blinding anybody.
The band was tuning, one horn squealing while another was tapping a rhythm that seemed to be going nowhere. Tenzi mounted the stage and leaned against the piano, watching the drummer roll a stick between his fingers like he'd done it his entire life.
"You boys always this loud before a crowd?" she asked, teasingly.
The pianist, a dark-skinned human with deep brown eyes, shaved head, and contagious smile, looked up at her. He flashed a million-dollar grin, nodding.
"Helps us hear ourselves, baby."
She smirked. "Might help you hear me better, too." She winked at the pianist while the trumpet player raised an eyebrow at the comment.
Rixi stumbled in from backstage, muttering something about her dress locking her at the knees. She used both hands to flatten wrinkles in her matching sequined dress, the midnight blue slightly more vibrant on her than Tenzi. Though, that was probably because of her powder-blue complexion, Tenzi admitted silently.
"You ever play for ghosts?" Tenzi asked the drummer. He didn't answer. Drummers rarely did. But he let his hand linger on the stick, returning the Andorian's playful grin.
The saxophonist--a tall, gaunt man of middling years--cleared his throat and leaned toward her. "Careful, lady. You'll get us all distracted."
"Good," Tenzi said, leaning closer. "Distraction's what I do best, mister."
She watched the band straighten, almost simultaneously, as the tuning fell silent. It was as though somebody had flipped a switch. Tenzi tilted her head and already the night had begun with the music beginning to swell. She turned to see Vashti making her appearance from behind the stage curtains. They smiled at each other as Tenzi took her place next to Rixi, behind a chrome-grilled analog microphone with the words Shure 55 "Unidyne" engraved across it.
Vashti assumed her place in front of the band as the fat little man behind the stand-up bass began to pluck. The thum-thum-thum of his chords were enough for the drummer to begin a soft rat-a-tat on the snare. She let her fingers drift along the stand and glanced sideways at Rixi and Tenzy. Their smiles were slow but knowing. They had practiced this number for weeks.
The piano then tinkled. The drummer moved to the cymbals with his brushes as Vashti tilted her head, letting the steady beat sink into her bones, and leaned toward the band with a grin.
"Alright, boys," she purred. "Make me move, make me sway--don't let me do all the work."
The trumpet player caught her glance and blew a soft note as though he were daring her. She laughed dangerously and slid her hands down the standing mic like it were a lover.
Then the rhythm snapped--Perdido--fast and slick. The piano seemed to chase the bass and the drums kicked the snare frenetically. Vashti could feel it in her high-heels.
"Per-did-ooo,
I look for my heart
It's perdido
I lost it way down in Torito
The day the fiesta started"
Rixi and Tenzi fell in behind Vashti, their harmonies were there but not as tight as they'd have liked. Still, not bad for their first song and plenty of time to make-up for it.
Vashti stepped sideways, swaying, letting the music push her hips and allowing the lyrics to snake through the brass. Her eyes shot over the drummer. "Don't hold back," she mouthed. And, of course, he didn't. His sticks rattled and the snares snapped.
Every note coming from the horn section seemed to bring the rest of the Slipper's crowd to their feet. Even the most sedentary patron was tapping their foot along to the music.
Garo was still at the bar when the first notes found their feet.
He had been nursing the same gin and ice for a while now and watching the room when the bass and the drums started speaking. It wasn't loud. Nor need it be. The drummer played the cymbals with his brushes--a simple warm-up. He turned on his stool without thinking just as Vashti stepped into the spotlight.
The amber stage lamps caught her sequined dress as if it had all been part of an elaborate theatre production. She looked alive in a way that made the rest of the room feel entirely provisional. The microphone was gleaming in front of her and he voice. Her voice! It was powerful but soft.
Garo forgot the taste of his drink and evidently, the rest of the club. He may have even forgot the names of his parents.
She smiled at the band and the smile came back--charged and sharpened. The rhythm picked up as she continued her rendition of Perdido. The holographic band was good--piano chasing the bass, the horn section lifting their voices.
He felt it then, an old ache he'd never given name to. He'd carried it since he transferred aboard the Astrea a year ago. He admired Vashti and he could feel her pull every single time they shared a space. If it weren't for her sarcasm or his own brand of dry humour, maybe they'd have gotten together by now. Or maybe not. The timing never felt right. They had both been reasonable about it.
But now she sang and the reason fell apart.
Around him, the Slipper came alive--feet tapping, bodies shifting, a strange collective hum that rose like heat from a fire. Even Cesare in his booth seemed to be glancing over to the stage and keeping a beat with his cane.
Josef Forstinger
Civillian
USS Astrea
Lieutenant JG Jason Williams III
Squadron Leader
USS Astrea
(NPC of Maxun Spello)
Master Chief Petty Officer Vashti Rao
Chief of the Boat
USS Astrea
(NPC of JB Dorsainvil)
Ensign Garabed "Garo" Hakobyan
Transporter Specialist
USS Astrea
(NPC of JB Dorsainvil)
Ensign Tenzi Sh'reyva
Engineering Officer
USS Astrea
(NPC of JB Dorsainvil)
Petty Officer 2nd Class Zal Rixi
Engineering Officer
USS Astrea
(NPC of JB Dorsainvil)
Petty Officer 3rd Class Dallas Reese
Slipstream Specialist
USS Astrea
(NPC of Eirly Andersen)
RSS Feed