Shadows and Moonlight pt. 2

Posted on Tue Sep 17th, 2024 @ 3:08pm by Captain Malcom Llwyedd & Lieutenant Jackson Smith

4,642 words; about a 23 minute read

Mission: Mission 1: A Long Hard Road Ahead
Location: DS 18: Promenade and Other
Timeline: 25 August, 2396 -1400 Hours

[ON]
Jackson strolled through the promenade with Lun at his side. The recent ceasefire had brought a semblance of normalcy back to the station, with a few shops reopening and a steady stream of people trickling in. Starfleet engineers, Bajoran civilians, and various other species – all involved in the reconstruction effort – filled the space, creating a bustling atmosphere that contrasted sharply with the desolation of the recent past. Food vendors and holosuite establishments were among the first to resume operations, their bright lights and enticing aromas beckoning weary workers seeking a moment of respite.

Jackson's eyes roved over the diverse crowd. Their disheveled appearance, a testament to their recent encounter with the Alien Coalition, blended seamlessly with the surrounding scene. He gently guided Lun towards a vendor selling steaming mugs of a fragrant beverage.
"You know," he began, as Lun remained close, her Vulcan stoicism a stark contrast to the more lively atmosphere, "part of our job is to blend in. And blending in here is a bit different than simply fading into the shadows, wouldn't you say?" He flashed a wry smile, his eyes scanning the surroundings for anything amiss.

The vast expanse of open space made Lun feel exposed and vulnerable, like a tiny speck in the grand scheme of the universe. She instinctively reached for her full-eye contacts, the innovative technology that would not only conceal her true identity but also give her a more Terran appearance. The obsidian pools of her eyes were quickly transformed into a seemingly ordinary hue, blending in with the humans she was surrounded by. "What do you have in mind, sir?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, carrying with it a hint of fear and uncertainty. She couldn't help but wonder what kind of dangerous mission she was about to embark on.

Sensing her unease and needing to reinforce their disguise to blend in, Jackson reached out and gently clasped her hand, offering a reassuring squeeze. "Just relax," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm against her anxiety. "We're just a couple enjoying a stroll on a lovely day." He flashed her a warm smile, the gesture feeling surprisingly natural despite their circumstances.

They reached the vendor, and Jackson ordered two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, a comforting warmth against the lingering chill of the damaged station. As Jackson handed her the cup, she could feel the anxiety of being out in the open start to dissipate. It wasn't just because he had gotten her a warm hot chocolate, but more so because it freed up his hand for her to hold. The simple act of holding hands with someone for the first time since her second year at the academy brought immense comfort to her. Jackson had already seen her at her worst, yet he still accepted and cared for her unlike her previous boyfriend. Even though their current situation called for them to pretend to be a couple, Jackson had already shown genuine affection towards her.

She struggled to keep up with Jackson's confident stride as they made their way through the bustling promenade. Her eyes darted around, taking in the chaotic scene that still showed signs of recent destruction. The air was thick with the smell of burnt metal and chemicals, a reminder of whatever disaster had struck the station. But amidst the chaos, people carried on with their daily routines, determined to ignore the lingering aftermath. She resisted the urge to touch and examine everything, trying her best to blend in as a normal humanoid being.

Suddenly, a piece of jagged metal debris came crashing down from a damaged banister above them, narrowly missing the two undercover officers by mere feet. Lun could feel the slight change in air pressure as the debris fell and quickly calculated that it wouldn't hit them. She even nonchalantly placed her cup down on top of the impaled repair crate as engineers frantically yelled at each other over this near miss.

"Well, I suppose this is a good place to start," Lun remarked as she lightly tapped her finger against the sharp edge of the metal shard sticking out of the crate next to her. "Lead the way, sir." She took another sip of her hot chocolate, trying to maintain a calm demeanor despite the chaos surrounding them.

Jackson's heart skipped a beat as the debris plummeted, but Lun remained utterly unfazed, as if she preternaturally anticipated the precise trajectory of the falling metal. He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, once again displaying a Vulcan mannerism. He discreetly surveyed the surrounding area. It seemed their near-miss had gone unnoticed by the preoccupied crowd.

His eyes swept the promenade, settling on a scorched table and a pair of overturned chairs—a grim reminder of the recent turmoil. The spot offered a clear view of the bustling thoroughfare while minimizing the risk of further debris-related mishaps. Jackson steered Lun towards the makeshift seating area. "Let's sit," he suggested, righting one of the chairs with a practiced hand.

As they settled, Jackson resumed his observations, his keen senses picking up subtle cues—furtive hand signals, hushed conversations, cryptic markings adorning doorways and corridors. The station's clandestine underbelly was slowly revealing itself, and Jackson was certain that within its depths lay the answers they sought.

Turning to Lun, his gaze softened. "I've witnessed the darkness and its remarkable abilities," he began, his voice a gentle invitation. "Tell more about Lun, the Vulcan beneath the shadows." A warm smile touched his lips as he met her eyes, his curiosity genuine.

Lun's slightly hinted smile had just twisted into a pained grimace as she spoke, her words dripping with bitterness. "Vulcan won't even have me back. But I can't shake off my Vulcan upbringing either. I'm more Alpha Quadrant than Vulcan now, and all I need to control is fear in order to survive. Everything else can be experienced. Although, I still try to maintain a persona of sorts." She took a sharp sip of her mug, the acidic liquid scorching her throat as she leaned back in her chair. The charred fabric didn't faze her - the only thing she cared about was breaking free from the chains of Vulcan tradition. "Underneath all that forced control, Vulcans are passionate beings. But our passions are channeled into one singular focus throughout our lives to suppress our natural instincts." A bitter smirk tugged at Lun's lips. "But now that I have a new purpose, I don't need Vulcan anymore. And Vulcan certainly doesn't need me." Her voice softened slightly as she looked at the other person. "You get to see the real me, without the constraints of emotionless control. I want to belong, to matter, to make a difference...and maybe one day even be loved." A glint of determination shone in her eyes as she finished her statement. "Because now I know I have so much more to give."

Lun placed the empty mug in the table and tilted her head slightly as she reached out and tapped his hand.

"What about you, Jackson... What makes you so different from everyone else that you can see beyond the worst part about someone and find the things worth finding underneath all the negativity?" Lun kept the smile and didn't even care if anyone was freaked out around her that a Vulcan had a genuine slightly shark-toothed grin on her face.

As Lun delved into her Vulcan upbringing, Jackson found himself drawn into a vortex of memories—the strict discipline, the suppression of emotions, the constant struggle for control. He shook his head, attempting to dispel the echoes of Chief Medical Officer L'Nel Haddock's presence, a lingering remnant of the mind meld that had saved his life. While faint, L'Nel's memories and personality had become intertwined with his own.

He refocused on Lun, intrigued by her willingness to embrace emotions. A chuckle rose in his throat, quickly stifled. Navigating emotions had been a daunting task as a child; at his current age, it would likely be overwhelming. As she spoke of belonging, he nodded unconsciously, a deep empathy welling up within him. The Firebird had provided him with the sense of purpose and camaraderie he craved. He started to smiled, but her question about his unique perspective caught him off guard.

The words "worst part" triggered a chilling flashback. His vision blurred, and for a fleeting moment, Lun vanished, replaced by the image of a young Maquis sentry, her blond hair and youthful face etched in his memory. He saw the tip of his blade piercing her neck, the life draining from her eyes. The darkness within him surged, a bone-chilling cold radiating outward.

But the moment passed, and with a shake of his head, he wrestled the haunting memory back into the recesses of his mind. He couldn't allow these distractions to derail their mission. A deep breath steadied him, and his friendly smile returned, though tinged with a hint of melancholy. "If the worst part of you is some pointy teeth," he quipped, "then you're pretty easy company. Besides, from what you tell me, you won't be a boring, stuck-up Vulcan either."

He chuckled, the sound forced but effective in dispelling the lingering unease. His gaze, however, was drawn to a damaged piece of artwork adorning a nearby wall. Within its intricate patterns, he spotted a symbol that sent a jolt of surprise through him. It was a marking he had never expected to see on this side of the galaxy.

Turning back to Lun, his expression a whirlwind of emotions, he spoke with a newfound urgency. "What you are about to see, what is about to happen, cannot be included in any report. As far as anyone is concerned, it didn't happen. Do you agree? Do you trust me?" His gaze locked onto hers, seeking her unwavering commitment.

Lun's eyes looked over Jackson. She could see that he was going through things. She felt the change in his biochemical energy just by looking at him. There was a pause but not because she was thinking about it, more just to try and phrase herself correctly.


Lun's voice trembled with barely-contained anger as she spoke, her words laced with a hint of desperation. "You know well what you're asking me to do. And I know you're smart enough to understand the dire consequences that could come from this." She stood up abruptly, leaning forward on the table until her face is just inches from his. "But I've already made the decision to trust you." Her eyes bore into his, searching for any sign of hesitation. "You have my word, there will be no record of this conversation. No written words to link you to whatever it is you’re about to do." A flicker of humor briefly crossed her face, but it is quickly replaced by a hardened determination. "We'll call it a 'wordless file', for lack of better terms. As long as we stick together, I don't care if we get kicked out of Starfleet or worse." Her hand gripped his shoulder firmly. "But if you break your promise and leave me behind, I swear I will make sure you regret it." The intensity in her gaze left no room for doubt, their fates are now irrevocably intertwined. Her intensity at the end of her statement withered into a secretive, caring smile.



Lun leaned in closer and squinted her eyes.
" -- at least 'TRY' not to get us fired, okay?"

Jackson's laughter faded into a warm smile, Lun's word play cutting through the heavy atmosphere. He met her eyes, a shared amusement dancing between them at the thought of her Starfleet exile. As she leaned closer, he offered a playful wink. "Let's just say I'm not exactly Starfleet Intelligence's poster boy. A prison cell seems more likely than a pink slip at this point." A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. "Though I may or may not have a few contingency plans up my sleeve."

Despite the lighthearted exchange, Jackson couldn't shake the need to gauge Lun's trustworthiness. If his suspicions about their mission were correct, she could become a liability. The information she'd gain would be enough to land him in serious trouble. He studied her for a moment, then Yumi's words echoed in his mind: "You can trust her." What had Yumi seen in Lun? What did she know?

For now, it didn't matter. Yumi trusted Lun, and that was enough for Jackson.

Rising from his chair, he brushed past her, a subtle touch lingering in the air. "Come on, let's go dig up some intel." Jackson knew this would pull her deeper into his world, a risk he was willing to take. Whether she was ready or not, they were about to find out.

Lun's heart raced as she chased after her new friend, fear and concern fueling her steps. She had taken a gamble in trusting her crew implicitly, but this man had somehow captured her care in a way she couldn't explain. Her mind was flooded with images of danger and uncertainty, but she refused to let him face it alone. As she caught up to his fast stride, she could see the desperation in his eyes and knew that he needed her by his side.

"Let's take the risk," Lun said boldly, determination clenching her jaw. "I may not have the power to control minds, but I won't let that stop me from protecting you. We're both vulnerable, mortal beings, but together we can face whatever comes our way." She tried to hide her worry behind a confident facade, but it was clear that she would do anything to keep him safe.

Lun's hand gripping his shirt was like a vice, her eyes wide with fear and concern for this man who seemed to be unraveling before her. She stood in front of him, a protective barrier between him and the unknown dangers that lurked in their path. Her hand on his shoulder felt like a lifeline, while her other hand pressed against his side as if willing him to stay grounded.

"Listen sir, you need to be careful. I'll follow you, but please, just be honest with me. I don't know what triggered you so intensely, but I trust you. And it's not just because you're my department head." Lun's voice shook with emotion as she continued, "I've spent years avoiding everyone, but now I want to be a part of someone's life again. And I'm taking a chance on you." Her words hung heavy in the air, as if begging for forgiveness. "So please, don't get us killed...or worse." A sheepish smile crossed her face as she stood on her toes, trying to match his height as she added, "I mean, being fired would also suck." Her tiny, pointed teeth only added to the absurdity of her statement, making her seem like a cute, yet fierce little monster.

Jackson's smile deepened as Lun sprang from the table, her determination mirroring his own. A warmth spread through him, a sense of camaraderie that transcended their unusual circumstances.

Her words, spoken with a mix of apprehension and unwavering loyalty, touched a chord within him. He understood her fears, her concerns for their safety. But he also recognized the shadow of his own darkness, the potential for it to consume and overwhelm. Was it fair to expose her to that? What of her own more tangible darkness? Would he bring that out in her? Would it consume her?

Yet, despite the risks, Jackson felt a surge of determination. Whether it was due to Lun's undeniable skill and usefulness or a deeper connection he couldn't quite define, he knew she would be good to have close. He would simply have to be vigilant, watchful for her well-being as much as his own.

A wry grin spread across his face. "Shot, stabbed? Yeah, those are occupational hazards," he quipped, his tone light but his eyes serious. "But I'll do my best to avoid getting us vaporized."

Switching back into mission mode, he instructed, "I need you to be intimidating. Stay slightly behind me on my right. Flash those pearly whites every now and then. But try not to turn black; we're likely heading into some dimly lit areas." He paused, studying her face to ensure she understood. "Hopefully, there won't be any fighting. But if there is, wait for me to initiate. We won't last long in a direct confrontation."

Lun nodded and walked beside him, staying a respectful distance to his right. She paused for a moment to remove the contacts in her eyes, revealing the glossy black orbs underneath her eyelids. The sudden change in her appearance was both unsettling and mesmerizing. With each step, Lun's long black hair swayed like a curtain of shadows around her face, adding an air of mystery to her already enigmatic presence.

With that, Jackson strode purposefully towards the dimly lit hallway, his hand brushing against the damaged artwork as he passed. A short distance in, he spotted a disheveled figure sprawled on the ground, seemingly in a drunken stupor. Jackson reached into his pocket, flipped a coin, and placed it in the man's hand with a gentle pat on the head.

Lun's eyes narrowed as they fell upon the man, seemingly drunk but with a dangerous spark in his gaze that sent chills down her spine. Her gut instinct told her something was off, a predator masquerading as prey

Jackson continued at a brisk pace, his eyes scanning the corridor for any telltale signs. Abruptly, he stopped, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. He turned to Lun and nodded towards the figure they had just passed, now walking with surprising purpose, no longer feigning intoxication.

Lun nodded at Jackson, having already noticed.
"He wasn't as think as he drunk he was," Lun winked at him with the wordplay.

As the man approached, he shot Jackson a look of mingled curiosity and disdain, then proceeded to a nondescript door. He knocked in a specific pattern, then held up the coin Jackson had given him, displaying it to a hidden camera above the door.

The door slid open, and the man entered, tossing the coin to a Ferengi and nodding towards Jackson and Lun. Without hesitation, they followed him into the dimly lit interior.

The opposite side of the door revealed a long, rectangular room with plush benches against each wall and a scattered array of tables in between. A handful of people sipped drinks and spoke in low tones. Immediately to the left of the door was a small bar, big enough to allow one Ferengi and a stunning dark haired human woman who wore a tight fitting blue dress. The Ferengi smiled at the newcomers and pushed his hands together.

"Welcome, welcome to my small establishment, officers. I'm Gorlab," the Ferengi said. His eyes wandered over the two Starfleet Officers and lingered on the hallway behind the open doorway.

Jackson's grin widened as he glanced down at his own attire. Their disguises were far from perfect, and it seemed this Ferengi was either remarkably perceptive or already aware of who he was. He decided to play along, matching the Ferengi's affable tone.

"Thank you for the welcome, Gorlab," Jackson replied, his eyes sweeping over the dimly lit room. "Quite the establishment you have here." He nodded appreciatively, taking in the scattered patrons engaged in hushed conversations. "It's good to see friends of Zulg on the station."

Lun stood behind Jackson looking at Garlab. Her dark soulless eyes had the added benefit of being able to look in any direction in front of her to a degree without having to be noticed side-glancing anyone. To the outside observers, she simply stood like a statue behind him for far too long to be comfortable. It became clear that she wasn't just daydreaming when a patron passed by too closely and she adjusted her stance, both feet pointing squarely in the direction of the one who got too close. She still didn't say anything as she pulled her shoulders back and tilted her head slightly in the man's direction which caused him to promptly depart. Lun then went back to standing motionless at Jackson's side as he talked with Gorlab.

Gorlab grunted at Jackson's words. "Ah, yes, my cousin Zulg. He and I are in business together here. I believe that, in the long run, it will be quite profitable. Assuming that Starfleet can keep the station from blowing up. How do you know Zulg?" Gorlab asked as he reached below the bar and pulled two blue glasses and set them in front of Jackson.

Jackson's grin widened as he weighed the Ferengi's question, his mind racing through a catalog of memories. "Zulg and I have had some...memorable times," he finally replied, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I'm Jackson, and this is Lun." He gestured for her to join him at the bar, acutely aware of her presence beside him. He knew she was about to witness a side of him he wasn't entirely comfortable revealing so soon, but Yumi's trust in her echoed in his mind.

"Zulg is a very close friend and an invaluable business partner," Jackson continued, his voice laced with a hint of pride. "We've helped each other through numerous...situations." As he spoke, a glint of steel flashed briefly as he produced a knife, its blade spinning effortlessly between his fingers. "For instance, Zulg once had a problem with a certain syndicate. I made sure that problem was...thoroughly dealt with."

A chilling coldness enveloped Jackson's demeanor for a fleeting moment, his voice dropping to a menacing growl. Then, just as quickly, the warmth returned, the knife vanishing as if it had never been.

"My priorities," he declared, leaning in conspiratorially, "are the Firebird, Zulg, and many other things. Starfleet Intelligence...well, let's just say they're a distant last place. I believe we could have a similar partnership. A cousin and partner of Zulg's is a potential partner of mine, wouldn't you agree?" Jackson extended his hand, his eyes locking with Gorlab's.

Lun's brow furrowed at Jackson's last statement to the Ferengi as she approached the bar. Her dark black eyes darted between her partner and the ferengi as her jaw dropped and her body stiffened beside him. Her feet turned to face the direction of Jackson now as she kept her guard up toward both of them. Still, she remained quiet as of waiting for something.

Her eyes kept both of the men in her sight equally and that's all she did as she picked at her shirt again as if she didn't like wearing it, a nervous tick, one of the few that she had thanks to the result of a natural discomfort of her clothes, compounded by the sudden external factors. She remained quiet and didn't even want to talk, therefore she simply stood there and follow Jackson's order but her hands were in an interview stands with one almost to her chin, a disguised defense posture for any eventuality.

Gorlab looked at the outstretched hand. He considered his response carefully before reaching out and grabbing the hand in the human fashion.

"Rule of Aquisition number thirty-seven" he said. "The early investor receives the most interest. I'm happy to work with you and your attractive female, in any way I can. Providing the profit is there." He leered at the human female. "Could we get rid of her clothes though? It makes me uncomfortable to see females in clothing/"

Jackson chuckled lightly, placing a reassuring hand on Lun's arm. "Let's keep the clothes on for now," he said, a playful wink in his voice. He turned to Gorlab, his expression shifting to one of earnest professionalism. "I knew I could trust a Ferengi to see the bigger picture."

He paused, letting the compliment sink in before continuing. "From what I understand, you primarily deal in information, correct? I have a proposition for our first enterprise together." A sly smile played on his lips.

"I suspect you might have an idea, however vague, of the location of the former Chief Intelligence Officer's SCIF. The man was notorious for keeping secrets, even from his own people. If you can help us pinpoint its location, I'll give you a copy of all the intel stored there that doesn't compromise the Firebird, its crew, or our mission." He paused for dramatic effect. "Which, as it happens, aligns perfectly with your goal of bringing stability back to this station."

Jackson's gaze intensified, his eyes boring into Gorlab's as he raised the glass of blue liquid. "A mutually beneficial arrangement, wouldn't you say?"

Lun cautiously trailed her fingers across the bar and inched closer to Garlab after realizing that the deal didn't break too many of her ethical standards. She reached out to rub his ears slightly as she looked into his gaze with her dark black eyes. She shook her head at him.

"All this time I've been aboard this station and I never new about this place. If I would have been informed that there was a place I could have freely taken my clothes off and been accepted, I would have been your regular since the last transfer." She pulled her hand back and shook her head apologetically. "Shame, for both of us, apparently. Missed opportunities." Lun was genuine about that statement. Not for reasons of sexual gratification but rather just for a place she could be comfortable that wasn't the size of a small living space. "Perhaps if we find this SCIF soon enough I would have time to come back?"

Jackson's sip of the cerulean liquid turned into a spluttering cough as Lun's unexpected declaration echoed through the bar. He barely managed to suppress a full-body sputter, disguising his shock with a muttered, "Strong drink..." His eyes darted towards Lun, who was now engaged in a bizarre silent conversation with Gorlab, her fingers dancing around his ears like a thereminist coaxing eerie melodies from the air.

A slow grin spread across Jackson's face. Lun was proving to be an enigma, a whirlwind of unpredictability. He had a feeling their partnership would lead to a lot of fun, a lot of trouble, and a whole lot of interesting times.

Gorlab's smile grew wider, revealing an uneven set of Ferengi teeth, with one gap on the left side. He didn't bother to respond to the female human but rather, locked eyes with the male one.

"A copy of the station's intel, you say. Well, that is very enticing," Gorlab said and leaned forward. His eyes darted around the room, making sure nobody was paying attention. Satisfied, he refocused on Jackson.

"I've heard of such a place. Never been there. But there was another Starfleet human who liked his Rigellian brandy and dabo and let it slip that there was a place on deck twenty-two that was some kind of secret place. Most of that level is replicator machinery and cold storage. Your SCIF, whatever that means, might be there."

Jackson's smile tightened as he drained his glass in a single gulp, the sound of it hitting the bartop echoing through the tense room. "Glad we have an understanding," he said, his voice low and steady. "I'll return with the intel."

With a nod to Lun, he added, "We have work to do." The two turned and swiftly exited the bar, their footsteps fading into the distance as they embarked on their next crucial step.

[OFF]


Lieutenant Jackson Smith
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Firebird NCC-88298



Ensign Lun
Intelligence Officer
USS Firebird NCC-88298

 

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