A Chance Encounter

Posted on Thu Oct 3rd, 2024 @ 9:23pm by Captain Malcom Llwyedd & Lieutenant Jackson Smith & Cadet Senior Grade Abigail Gordon

2,239 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Interlude 1 Gamma Quadrant
Location: Firebird - Cafeteria
Timeline: Sometime between Missions

[ON]
The cafeteria hummed with the low hum of idle replicators and the soft clinking of the few remaining dishes being cleared away. The air hung heavy with the lingering scent of food, a mixture of comforting aromas, and the metallic tang of the ship itself. Jackson sat alone at his usual table, his posture slumped, his gaze fixed on the half-eaten plate before him.

The noodles and chicken in white sauce, a culinary creation of Kalstri's that he hadn't even bothered to identify, offered some comfort. Each bite was a mechanical motion, while devoid of any real enjoyment it gave him the nourishment he needed. His mind was a battlefield, Kipp's words echoing like distant thunder, threatening to unleash a storm of emotions he desperately tried to contain.

He knew his friend was right. He was troubled, withdrawn, a shadow of his former self. The darkness he had buried deep within was clawing its way to the surface, threatening to consume him. The fear of facing it, of unraveling the carefully constructed facade he had built around himself, was paralyzing.

Jackson dreaded facing his inner turmoil, fearing any potential outcome. What if once unleashed, the darkness consumed him entirely, leaving him a hollow shell, a danger to himself and those he cared about? The thought sent shivers down his spine, a cold sweat beading on his brow. But an equally terrifying prospect loomed: what if he managed to excise the darkness completely? What if he could no longer bring himself to kill, even when the mission demanded it? In the shadowy world of Starfleet Intelligence, such a transformation would render him useless, a liability to be discarded.

He pushed the plate away, his appetite gone. The silence of the near-empty cafeteria pressed down on him, amplifying the loneliness that gnawed at his heart. He was adrift, lost in a sea of self-doubt and regret, with no clear path forward.

Abigail was once more reading one of her favorite books, The Scarlet Pimpernel. This was an actual book, well worn, dog-eared from being read many times. She had started it from the beginning and was back on Chapter Two. The sound of the mess hall made her imagination, take flight bringing Chapter Two more alive. Her nose in the book, Abigail was reading how Sally, the barmaid in the Fisherman's Rest was gracefully traversing the crowded narrow space bringing freshly filled tankards to those who were thirsty.

Unwittingly, Abigail's imagination was also taking flight with her own steps, trying to mimic the steps, Sally could have possibly taken. A dance so to speak, something that Abigail had practiced, something which normally kept her from tripping over an invisible crack, but not this time.

A sudden movement from somewhere, being caught in her peripheral vision, startled Abigail. She lost her concentration, stumbling over that cursed invisible crack, her book flying out of her hands towards someone.

"Eeek!" Abigail squealed out, her hands flailing to keep her balance.

Jackson's attention was drawn from his brooding by a flicker of movement across the otherwise quiet cafeteria. A young woman, seemingly lost in the world of her book, was navigating the space with an almost ethereal grace. Her dark curls danced around her shoulders with each step, and her long legs carried her forward in a rhythm that was both captivating and graceful.

He watched, a bemused smile tugging at his lips, as she unwittingly made a beeline for his table, oblivious to the abundance of empty seats around her. It was clear she was utterly engrossed in her reading, her world narrowed to the pages in her hands.

Jackson's mind sifted through the recent influx of new personnel files. Ah, yes, he recalled, Cadet Senior Grade Abigail Gordon. The file painted a picture of a cheerful, if somewhat clumsy, nurse with a knack for connecting with patients.

And as if on cue, Abigail stumbled, her book flying from her grasp like a startled bird. Jackson reacted instinctively, his reflexes honed by years of training. He deftly plucked the book from the air just before it could clatter to the floor. His other hand reached out, gently grasping Abigail's arm to steady her.

A genuine smile graced his lips as he handed back her book. "Perhaps you should have a seat before something worse happens?" he suggested, motioning towards the empty chair across from him. His eyes, crinkled at the corners, held a warmth that belied the darkness that still lingered within.

Abigail was confused for a moment, her fall forward seemed to have been stopped by a strong but gentle hand. Her ears perked up hearing the melodic baritone voice of someone. Her eyes followed the arm that held her upright towards the face of the one who caught, her. "Oh wow, you've got a great smile!" Abigail uttered, a brilliant smile appearing.

His words filtered through her mind, and Abigail took a seat. "Oh yes, that would be a great idea, thank you for rescuing me from what could have been a rather awkward situation." her lively green eyes, framed by dark lashes met his hazel eyes.

"I am Senior Cadet, Abigail Gordon. May I have the name of my rescuer?" smiling prettily. She brushed back her dark curly locks taking a good look at the handsome man near her.

"Rescuer? Hardly, you just needed a little help." Jackson's smile softened a genuine warmth replacing the usual guardedness in his eyes. Clad in the casual attire he'd worn for his earlier meeting, he felt a world away from the darkness of his recent mission. Abigail's cheerful presence was a welcome distraction, a reminder of the brighter side of life he'd almost forgotten. He decided against mentioning his rank, wanting to keep the conversation light and carefree. His soul craved a respite from the heavy burdens he carried. "The name's Jackson," he offered simply. "Can I get you anything?"

"Now, now, don't dismiss you rescuing me from doing a faceplant on the deck floor. " wrinkling up her nose. her eyes dancing with laughter. "Oh, my book!" Realizing he held it in his other hand. "Thank you! As for something to eat do you have a recommendation? And you can call me Abi for short." Rambling a little bit, quite happy at not tasting the cold unforgiving deck.

Jackson's smile deepened as he returned her book, a gentle warmth radiating from him. "Very well, Abi," he said, his voice a soothing balm against the lingering echoes of the cafeteria's earlier silence. He rose from his seat, about to head towards the replicator when a familiar figure caught his eye.

Kalstri, the ship's enigmatic chef, stood by the food counter, a knowing smile playing on his lips. He raised a hand in a subtle gesture, beckoning Jackson back to his seat.

"It seems Kalstri has something in mind for you," Jackson remarked, returning to his chair with a light chuckle. "He has a knack for cooking up the perfect dish for the situation."

His gaze drifted back to Abi, drawn to the lively spark in her green eyes. After a moment's pause, his curiosity piqued, he gestured towards her book. "I'm not very familiar with books like that," he admitted with a hint of self-deprecation in his voice. "What are you reading?"

Holding up the book with the title showing, "This is The Scarlet Pimpernel, written by Baroness Orczy. It is about a man who acts like a fop and yet has another identity, that of someone who rescues those who need it. It is a historical story set during the French Revolution. A man with two identities." Abi responded, then looked towards Kalstri. "I wonder just what he will come up with for me. This is quite the adventure." turning her gaze back to Jackson, with eager anticipation in her eyes along with a smile.

"Do you have books you like to read?" Abigail asked feeling curious as to what he liked to read

Jackson hesitated a flicker of recognition in his eyes. The book she described, a man leading a double life, struck a chord deep within him. His own carefully constructed facade, the balancing act between Starfleet officer and underworld operative, felt precariously close to shattering.

Abigail's question brought him back to the present, her cheerful curiosity a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within him. His mind raced back to his youth, the relentless struggle for survival, and the constant shadow of violence that had shaped him. A wry smile touched his lips, tinged with a hint of self-deprecation.

"Ah, I'd love to impress you with my vast knowledge of classic literature," he confessed, his voice laced with a gentle irony. "Sadly, I barely made it through the academy textbooks." An unusual wave of self-consciousness washed over him, a rare moment of vulnerability for the usually confident intelligence officer. He felt acutely aware of his rough edges, the lack of refinement that his dangerous life had necessitated.

"I... ummm..." he stammered, momentarily flustered. His gaze fell on the worn pages of her book, a testament to its well-loved status. "So, this is a favorite story of yours?" he asked, quickly deflecting from his own unease.

"This is one of them, sure I have read classical literature but I also have read mysteries, westerns, romance adventure books. Besides medical books. " Abi reached out gently and touched his hand.
"And, please, don't compare yourself with my being a bookworm. I do hope that I haven't made myself seem like a know-it-all, I- I just like to read, it's a comfort to me, and it's like hanging out with old friends." She said.

" I am sure you have other things that you have interest in doing. " Abigail added, giving his hand a squeeze before she pulled her hand away. She was worried that she had overstepped in moving into his possible physical boundaries.

Jackson smiled warmly and returned the squeeze, his gaze lingering on their joined hands for a moment. He didn't seem to mind the closeness at all. "I didn't grow up in a household that put much value on reading," he admitted, his voice softening. "But it definitely sounds like a very interesting and enjoyable hobby." He paused, his mind flitting back to the events of the past few days – the fights, the near-death experiences, the dangerous game he was playing with the underworld. None of it was something he could share with this bright-eyed, innocent woman. He fumbled for a plausible excuse, a harmless lie to deflect her attention when suddenly, a welcome distraction arrived.

Kalstri, the ship's four-armed chef, strode towards them with surprising grace. His multiple limbs expertly navigated the tables, carrying a tray laden with delicious-smelling food. With a flourish and a wide grin, he placed a steaming plate of supreme pizza in front of Abi, the cheese melted to perfection. Then, with an even wider grin and another arm, he produced a banana split from behind his back, setting it down with two spoons. "Enjoy, my friends!" he boomed, giving them a knowing wink before spinning on his heel and heading back to the kitchen.

Relieved by the interruption, Jackson chuckled. "Ah, our chef can be quite dramatic at times."

"Oh wow, magic! And how did he know my favorites." Abbi asked looking back towards the retreating chef. "Thank you, you are amazing!" she called out to him, then turned her attention back to the food. She leaned over and inhaled the scent of the pizza, her mouth-watering. There was just something about the cooked red and green bell peppers, with purple onions and mushrooms, with pieces of sausage, pepperoni. It was so colorful in the way the toppings were placed, an edible work of art!

"So do you like pizza?" her eyes raising to focus on Jackson's "And do you like banana splits?"

While he had had pizza before, he hadn't had a banana split yet. It was an ice cream, so he was sure he would like it, besides this was pleasant company. Jackson met her gaze and smiled, "Absolutely!"

With a delighted laugh and a smile, Abigail gave an approving nod. "Oh good, glad to hear that!" she picked up one of the spoons, and scooped up some of the delectable dessert, the spoon stopped in mid-air. "A toast via a banana split, here's to hopefully the beginning of a friendship! And instead of clinking glasses, we clink our spoons together." giving out a giggle, her eyes curving up with her smile. "I know, it may be weird, but hey it's all for fun!"

A warm smile spread across Jackson's face, chasing away the shadows that had been clinging to him. Abi's infectious enthusiasm was a welcome respite, a stark contrast to the grim reality he'd been immersed in. He picked up his spoon and scooped up a generous portion of the banana split. Bananas and ice cream... can't go wrong with that, he thought, a lightness he hadn't felt in days bubbling up inside him. He gently clinked his spoon against Abi's, a playful grin curving his lips. "To friendship," he echoed, raising his spoon in a mock toast.

[OFF]

Lieutenant Jackson Smith
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Firebird NCC-88298



Cadet Senior Grade Abigail Gordon
Nurse Trainee
USS Firebird NCC-88298

 

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