[FLASHBACK] Gotta Dance

Posted on Fri Apr 25th, 2025 @ 5:41am by Captain Malcom Llwyedd & Lieutenant Jackson Smith & Cadet Senior Grade Abigail Gordon & Lieutenant Soto Gantt & Ensign Gianna Djokovic

5,386 words; about a 27 minute read

Mission: Interlude 1 Gamma Quadrant
Location: Starlight Divergence, a club on DS18
Timeline: Prior to the Attacks from Jem'hadar on the Crew

[ON]

Abigail decided to be bold, to be daring, feeling the need to dance. She had met Jackson Smith and had spent a lovely lunch with him. They had spoken about books, and she wanted to get him out and do some dancing.

She tapped her index finger upon her lips as Abi thought things through. " Computer, please send a message to Jackson Smith, Jackson, how would you like to go out dancing on the station. Just have some fun and enjoy music? Please let me know, Abigail." Once she hit the send button, Abigail's eyes went wide.

"Good heavens, uh..." She looked around to see if Gia was there. "Gia? Are you home? " Abi said, looking out from where she had been sitting on her bunk.

Gia thought for a long moment about remaining still and pretending to be asleep. She'd once dated someone on Firebird, back in her enlisted days, and knew how easy it was to get enamored by someone you worked with. Now? The ship seemed far too small for such moves and besides, most of the people here were more like extended family to her. She let out an almost imperceptible sigh. "Going out with Jackson?" She shuffled around and then peered down over the edge of the bunk at the nurse.

Abi glanced up at Gia, her eyes growing even wider, her black curls falling behind her head. "Uh, going out with Jackson? Do you know him? I thought he just needed to go out and do some dancing, could this be considered a date? Will you go with me and go dancing? Just to have a little bit of fun. Just something casual." Abi said, giving a rather beseeching puppy-eyed look to Gia.

"Do I know him? Abi, there are only about twenty-five officers on the Firebird, so yeah, I know him." Gia said as she slid off the bunk and landed easily on her feet. She walked over to Daw's bunk and leaned against it, crossing her arms. She didn't mention that trouble seemed to sniff Jackson out wherever he went, but she was thinking it. She didn't know a lot about what he did, being that his reports were way above her station, but people on the Firebird talked, and she'd seen enough with her own eyes. "If you want me to be your wingwoman, I will go with you. As far as dancing, we'll see what the music is. No promises."

"That is fair, also I've never had a wingwoman before." Which was true, Abi never had the notion of having one, then again, most of the time it was a group going out and having some fun. "This is another first for me."

---

Jackson scowled at the data stream flowing across the console, his frustration mounting with each passing line. He slammed his fist against the console, the metallic clang echoing through the otherwise silent room.

"None of this makes sense!" he growled, his voice tight with frustration. "The more we dig, the less we seem to find!" He slumped back in his chair, rubbing his temples as he tried to massage away the tension headache building behind his eyes.

Just as he was about to launch into another tirade, a soft chime announced an incoming message. He tapped the console, his eyes scanning the text that appeared on the screen. A smile tugged at his lips as he read the message from Abigail, the new nurse who had charmed him in the cafeteria. She was inviting him out dancing, a welcome distraction from the dead end he'd hit in his investigation.

Before Gantt could respond to his earlier outburst, Jackson turned to him, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Hey," he said, his voice laced with a playful energy, "just got a message from Abigail. She's one of the new nurses on the ship. She wants to go out dancing, and I'm going to need you to come."

Only some of what Jackson said got through, so Gantt spent several seconds searching the PADD for the word "dancing" before the incongruity pried his mind free. He stared at Jackson, his eyes narrowed. His finger tapped idly on the back of the PADD, creating a soft staccato.

"Did you say we should go dancing? Because in all the time I've known you, that has never come up before." Gantt tapped away. A small smile twitched the corner of his mouth, but he stared hard at his friend. "We've been on a dance floor once, maybe twice together, way back when Luca was on board. We've boarded more alien shuttles... ¡Vaya! We've crashed more shuttles than that. What's up?"

"I did say we should go dancing," Jackson confirmed, his smile widening. "There's a new nurse who's requesting some company on the dance floor. It would be rude of us to decline such a friendly invitation, wouldn't it?" He added a playful wink. "Besides, remember what I said? You work too much! A little fun is exactly what we both need."

Before Gantt could retort, Jackson swiftly typed out a message confirming their enthusiastic participation in the dancing endeavor and hit send. He leaned back in his chair, a sense of anticipation bubbling up within him. The prospect of a night of music and camaraderie was a welcome distraction from the weight of his recent missions and the looming threat of the conspiracy they were investigating.

"Sometimes you remind me of my Uncle Mateo, which can be really frustrating at times. I never agreed to go, but now what do I do?" Gantt leaned back on the console, lips sewn tight with exasperation. The grin on Jackson's face was undeniable, and Gantt had to admit he couldn't remember the last time he'd let loose. The thought was enough to quirk the corner of his mouth into a half-smile. "Fine. It sounds fun. At least tell me the nurse's name."

=====================
The Loophole
==================

Abi stood outside the club she had invited Jackson and Gia to. She thought it an odd name for a club, but somehow the name The Loophole fit. She glanced once more in the reflective surface, making certain her sapphire blue summer dress still looked good, the hem hitting just an inch below the knee. When she moved, the skirt of the dress swayed, as it was made for dancing. She wore a simple gold necklace with a teardrop-shaped cubic zirconium, it catching the light, giving an iridescent shine. She looked a little bit nervous, hoping that this evening would turn out to be fun for everyone.

Feeling a little bit nervous, Abi's hand crept up to play with a strand of her hair, which was loose and flowing. "I am so glad you were willing to come with me, Gia."

"No problem," Gia said casually with a reassuring smile. She still wasn't sure she wanted to be here, but it was smart for her to stick with Abigail while on the station. There was still so much unknown around them. Gia was wearing a rather conservative black dress with a high neckline and three-quarter sleeves. The hem landed almost to her knees. It sadly had no place to conceal a phaser, which she kind of wished she'd brought along anyway. She recalled the time she and Yumi went dress shopping on DS9 and realized she sort of missed that semi-transparent purple little thing, but it wasn't something she was comfortable wearing anymore, much less on this station, even if she still had it, which she didn't.

Jackson and Gantt navigated the bustling promenade, the sounds of laughter and conversation mingling with the lively music spilling from nearby establishments. As they rounded a corner, Jackson spotted Abigail standing outside a club entrance, her vibrant blue dress a splash of color against the muted tones of the station. Gia stood beside her, a quiet counterpoint to Abigail's nervous energy.

"Come on, Gantt," Jackson said, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "Let's see what this dancing scene is all about." He steered his friend towards the two women, his anticipation growing with each step.

"Abigail, Gia," he greeted them warmly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You both look fantastic." He turned to Abigail, remembering her introduction in the cafeteria. "Abigail, this is Gantt, my partner in crime," he said, gesturing towards his friend. "I'm not sure if you've had the chance to meet yet."

" Thank you, Jackson, glad you could make it. And as for Gantt, I've not had the pleasure of meeting him." A little chuckle, "This, though, is a start of getting to know members of the crew." Abigail gave a warm smile, her green eyes twinkling, "Hello, Gantt," she said, holding out her hand in greeting to shake his hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Abigail; a pleasure I regret not having had earlier," said Gantt. He took her hand and bowed briefly to her, his d'ja pagh glittering faintly in the club's splash of multicolored lights. He thrum of music vibrated through the soles of his shoes. "Gia, it's good to see you, too. I haven't been to a club in an embarrassment of months."

Abigail's eyes widened at the debonair and smooth way Gantt took her hand. It caused her heart to flutter just a bit. She glanced at Jackson as well, Be still my beating heart. These two men are a dangerous pair, what with their charisma and charm. Her cheeks had a pinkish hue to them.

"I am quite glad to meet you." Abi managed to say without stuttering, having a sunny, yet somewhat shy smile.

Gia simply smiled at Jackson and Soto. It wasn't that she didn't find both of them handsome or nice, but she wasn't into either of them in the way that Abi seemed to be. They felt more like cousins to her. Maybe that's just the way she wanted it, though. After the breakup with Max and his departure from the Firebird, she'd told herself dating on such a small ship was only a recipe for trouble.

"Hey," Gia said, breaking her long silence and looking as though she'd thought of the perfect excuse to step away and let Abi fly solo for a minute. "I'll go grab drinks. What's everyone want?"

"Hopefully, they won't laugh, but I want a Shirley Temple," Abi said, giving her a choice of drink. Looking into the club, watching the ebb and flow of those within, Abi's eyes lit up seeing a table open. "Okay, let's get that table!" Abi is making a beeline for it, arriving before another could claim it. It was a good location. It looked out towards the main dance floor. "This looks like a good spot!"

Jackson smiled. "I'll have a rum and coke, if you don't mind." He sensed Gia's slight hesitation, the faint awkwardness in her demeanor. "Actually," he offered, "I'll come with you to the bar. Four drinks can be a bit of a handful."

As the group made their way towards the table Abi had claimed, Jackson turned to Gantt. "What would you like?" he asked, his voice carrying over the rising music.

"Bring me a paloma, please," replied Gantt, sliding into a chair next to Abigail. The deep bass line of the music spoke through the floor with a raspy, insistent voice. He hadn't seen this many people crammed into a club for a long time. Stress, isolation, and worry can drive a need for free expression. "Was this night your idea? Because I think this is exactly what I needed. It's been a rough few weeks."

"Well, yes, going out dancing was my idea. Sort of a spur-of-the-moment. I had met Jackson in the mess hall, we got to talking and well... I thought this would be a fun thing to do. He seemed a bit stressed; I could see it in his eyes. " Abigail paused for a moment, taking a good look at Gantt, her eyes panning over his features, especially his eyes,. "And I can see it in your eyes as well. All of you have been through quite a bit, so having just a small tidbit of a fun time, especially dancing, can very well help out. The music, the movement, companionship." Abigail paused there, her cheeks feeling warm. "There I go again, occupying the conversation," giving a warm smile.

"There's plenty of room for conversation between new acquaintances," said Gantt, shaking his head slowly. The cadet looked like she really did care. A tough time for that, stuck here in Gamma. His fingers tapped in time to the music. "You're right about my stress levels, but this is a crazy mission for a cadet. A drink will help, and then I'd like to hear what you love most about being stranded with this odd crew."

Gia smirked as she and Jackson left and wound their way toward the bar. "You don't think I can handle four drinks?" she asked rhetorically and punctuated it with a mock-sinister laugh before passing their order to the bartender whose gaze seemed to linger on the pair for a moment longer than comfortable before moving to make the drinks. Gia noticed it and gave Jackson a glance, surely he did too. "Well, I wasn't going to say anything, but isn't rum and coke an old person's drink? I've never known anyone to order one in a bar."

Jackson grinned, "First, you are more than capable. I just wanted to check things out. I haven't been to this establishment much." His eyes casually scanned the crowd, noting exits and assessing the overall layout. "And hey, what's up with the drink shaming?" he teased, playfully nudging her shoulder. He caught the bartender's lingering gaze and subtly mirrored the man's glance to the left. A particular table stood out: a lone figure fidgeted nervously, constantly scanning the room. Jackson's recognition sparked. Alex Stange, he realized, a senior operations officer from the station and a name on their list of possible conspirators. A prickle of unease ran down his spine. This could be problematic.

As they reached the bar, Jackson casually leaned against it, his back to the counter, elbows resting on the surface. He turned to Gia, his expression carefully neutral. "Go ahead and order our drinks," he said, his voice low, "but we might have some trouble brewing. Bring a weapon?" He chuckled lightly, feigning nonchalance, but a mischievous glint in his eyes betrayed his underlying alertness.

Gia leveled him a look for just a second. "I could probably find one without too much effort," she said quietly with a casual expression of someone just chatting with a friend. She punched in the order on the bar and then lifted her gaze to discreetly scan the room, eventually landing on a civilian figure she was familiar with and knew would be carrying.

Jackson's gaze swept across the club, taking in every detail. At the far end, a discreet entrance led to what he assumed was a VIP or back room area. Two imposing figures in dark cloaks stood guard, the glint of claws betraying their Lorcan identity. A more thorough scan revealed several similarly clad individuals scattered throughout the club.

He leaned closer to Gia, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. "This club," he murmured, "is rumored to be a haven for the Crimson Hand, a syndicate with ties to the Lorcans." He nodded subtly towards the cloaked figures. "With that kind of presence here," he continued, his eyes flickering towards the nervous officer, "I suspect our senior ops guy is about to sell some secrets."

He paused, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "We might need to enlist some help from our companions," he suggested, his voice barely audible above the music. "Thoughts?"

"What about backup? Abi's sweet, and she's kind of into you, but I don't know if this is her jam." Gia scratched the spot below her ear uncomfortably as she glanced casually around as though they were not discussing tactics. "A single exit, maybe she and I could cover that from the promenade."

At the table where Abi and Gantt sat, the cadet craned her neck as she sought to see where Jackson and Gia were. Leaning forward, she said to Gantt, "This is a bit busy, isn't it. Not that I mind."

"Gather survivors of a battle, work them hard, and then let them loose for a night. This?" he gestured at the room circling them. "I think they want to remind themselves what living is like. Let music and dancing take over for a while. I could use a drink first, though, if they didn't abandon us." He smiled broadly, completely unconcerned even if they had. The floor vibrated and he not looking over his shoulder for once.

"I don't think they abandoned us, but they probably are having to wait for the drinks due to things being so busy. Besides, I have pleasant company to spend the time with." Abi's eyes crinkling up with her smile.

"You're right about that. There are worse fates than being stuck here with good company." Gantt's smile was easy, genuine. He was enjoying the conversation and the warmth of Abi’s presence. He caught a glimpse of their friends talking near the bar, just like several other patrons, but Jackson had a small tell when something he didn't like tickled the back of his brain. Gantt twisted his body just enough so the table wouldn't stop him from leaping from the chair.

Jackson's lips curled into a genuine smile at Gia's teasing. "She is sweet," he agreed, his thoughts momentarily thinking about Abigail, with a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time. But the shadows of his past quickly returned, casting a pall over his expression. "We'll have to see if she's still 'into me' after she finds out more," he added, a hint of self-deprecation in his voice.

He glanced back towards their table, catching Gantt's eye. His friend was already on alert, his posture tense, his gaze scanning the room. Jackson gave him a subtle nod, a silent acknowledgment of the brewing trouble. He then casually shifted his attention towards the table where the nervous operations officer sat, his heart sinking as he realized what was happening.

"Dammit!" he hissed, his voice barely audible above the music. "The exchange just happened."

His keen eyes had spotted a waiter placing a tray on the table, a seemingly innocuous act that masked a covert exchange. A memory crystal, no doubt containing sensitive information, had been swiftly palmed from the table, replaced by a glint of latinum on the tray. The waiter moved on, the crystal disappearing into the crowd in a well-rehearsed sleight of hand.

Jackson's mind raced, his instincts honed by years of experience in the underworld. He'd witnessed countless such exchanges, the intricate dance of clandestine transactions. The crystal would pass through multiple hands, each participant playing their part in the carefully orchestrated transfer.

His vision sharpened, his focus narrowing as he scanned the room. The potential carriers stood out, their movements betraying their purpose. They were focused, precise, each step a calculated move in the intricate choreography of the exchange. Jackson followed the pattern, the flow of the crystal as it snaked through the crowd.

There, he thought, his eyes locking onto the far back left corner exit. That was the destination, the final point of the clandestine transaction.

"We don't have time for the ops guy," he whispered urgently to Gia, his voice barely audible above the din. "We need to get that crystal. It's headed for that exit." He nodded towards the far corner. "You go left, I'll go right."

Without waiting for a response, he was off, weaving through the crowd with a practiced ease.

Gia was a moment behind Jackson, but was quickly scrambling between civilians as she darted left. The sound of surprised gasps created a sudden flurry of activity between the bar and the far exit. She plucked a half-empty bottle of Tulaberry wine from someone's hand, "Sorry, next one's on me," she half-mumbled, already past the person anyway.

When Jackson moved, Gantt shoved off the table. One side of his mouth quirked up in a wilted, apologetic smile. "Sorry, Abigail, this is about to go sideways."

Jostling through the crowd, he caught sight of a familiar face moving away from Jackson and Gia. Lieutenant Stange, a systems technician on DS18 who was looking shady as hell. Their eyes met, and Stange's face blanched. Gantt grabbed a heavy drink tray, sending drinks skittering across a table. He sent the disc flying into the ensign's arm, knocking him off balance. The crewman stumbled, and in that split second, Gantt closed the distance. He slammed Stange against the bar with his forearm. "Hello, Alex. Seems like a nice night for a quick chat."

Things seemed to happen so quickly to a confused Abi, Gantt's whispered apology to something going sideways? Gia was no longer at the bar with Jackson. Abi stood up to see what was going on while Gantt moved rather swiftly towards someone, a tray being flung like a Frisbee by Gantt. She caught up to Gantt, who had slammed someone up against the bar.

"What is going on here? What did he do? Where are Gia and Jackson?" She cringed at the sight of the lieutenant pinned by Gantt's forearm, the ensign's eyes filled with terror. The look in Gantt's eyes made Abi take a step back. Whatever was going on, Gantt was rather angry. Better for her not to say anything else and just wait.

Jackson tried to blend into the crowd, but his movements were too purposeful, his gaze too intense. He caught the eye of one of the Lorcans, and a silent signal passed between them. Two of the hulking figures peeled away from the wall, their predatory focus fixed on him.

Time to dance, Jackson thought grimly, his hand instinctively reaching for the familiar weight of his knife. He knew this wouldn't be a clean or quiet fight, but he didn't hesitate. He charged towards the Lorcans, his movements a blur of controlled aggression.

One of the Lorcans lunged, its claws flashing in the dim light. Jackson ducked under the attack, his momentum carrying him forward. He thrust his knife upwards, the blade finding its mark deep in the Lorcan's armpit. The creature roared in pain, its grip on its weapon loosening as it stumbled back.

The second Lorcan seized the opportunity, slamming into Jackson from behind. The impact sent him sprawling, his breath knocked from his lungs. He rolled onto his back, his eyes searching for his attackers.

Abi's attention was drawn away from where Gantt was to a crashing sound and a roar. Her blood froze in her veins. She's heard that sound before, and her heart sped up. She drove down a sense of panic that was welling up inside. They weren't after her; they were fighting someone, but she couldn't see who it was.

"Gantt, can you tell me what is going on!" though there was the possibility that he may not answer just yet.

"Jackson saw something suspicious. I'm not sure who he's fighting or why. Can't be good if he got involved this quickly." Gantt leaned in on Stange, twisting his arm up farther to hold him immobile. "Why is a senior officer is involved in a mess like this, Alex?"

Senior officer in a mess? What has she stumbled into? Must be something serious with all that was happening right now. She still didn't know what Jackson did on the ship. He must be part of security, much like Gia. Gia, where was she?

Abigail craned her neck to see if she could spot her roomie and friend, through the now turbulent dance floor. Instead of the sort of rhythmic, somewhat orderly chaos that was there. with people relaxing, dancing and drinking, It was turning into something more, Lorcans, those near the fight realzing that there were some of the enemy there, That roar was enough to cause just a little bit of panic, as others moved away from where the fight between Jackson and the Lorcan was occuring. Were there others? Abigail shivered as if icy fingers ran up and down her spine, her skin prickling up with goosebumps.

There began a rather hurried exodus towards the exit of the Starlight club. Abigail was thankful that she had gone over towards where Gantt was, near the bar. She had moved on the other side of Gantt still trying to see where Gia and now Jackson were.

Gantt tightened his grip on Alex’s arm, pressing him against the bar. “Strange, what the hell are you doing with those guys? What's going on?” he demanded.

Alex craned his neck towards Gantt. He barely had time to inhale. A blur flicked past Gantt's face. Alex jerked, a crimson mist spraying across the counter. The tension vanished from Alex’s muscles as the lieutenant sagged against Gantt's hold. A small, wickedly thin knife was buried nearly to the hilt in Alex's neck, just below the ear.

Gantt released him in shock, stepping back as Alex crumpled to the floor. Alex's mouth moved as if trying to form words, then stopped. Gantt dove to his side calling for a medic. His fingers felt silence in the carotid artery. Alex was already dead.

Hearing the call for Medic, Abigail moved over to the side of Gantt. She was a nurse after all. She was on her knees next to Gantt, looking at the body with the knife and the blood that was there. She reached out, confirming the death of the man. Her face grew pale, but she didn't faint. "We need to get security, oh wait, Gia is here somewhere. And close the club down-" she looked over her shoulder at the quickly disappearing patrons. "It might be too late to close the doors," she murmured solemnly. "Mayhap you should go find Jackson and Gia. I'll stay here with the body," her voice wooden. "Can't let the evidence disappear."

At that moment, Jackson's fight with the Lorcans reached a crescendo. He'd spotted the fleeing figure with the crystal and knew he had to get to him. Gia was a force of nature, a whirlwind of calculated violence as she held off a group of Lorcans, leaving Jackson free to pursue his quarry. He surged forward, a predator unleashed.

His knives flashed, a deadly ballet of precision and force. He moved through the Lorcans with ruthless efficiency, each strike finding its mark. Blood bloomed on fur and scales, the air thick with the coppery scent of violence. He disarmed, incapacitated, and killed with brutal speed, his focus solely on the path ahead.

The fleeing figure led towards a side exit, now choked with panicking patrons. Jackson barreled through the crowd, his gaze unwavering.

Then he hesitated.

Before him stood a line of young Red Hand recruits, barely more than kids. Their faces, pale and drawn, reflected a chilling mix of fear and desperation. They brandished makeshift weapons, their hands trembling, their eyes wide with the stark awareness of their impending demise.

Jackson's momentum faltered. He saw the terror in their eyes, the dawning realization that they were mere fodder, thrown into the path of a predator. He saw the fleeting glimpse of their lives, their dreams, their potential, all about to be extinguished in a bloody melee.

The bloodlust that had driven him moments before evaporated, replaced by a profound sense of weariness. He couldn't do it. He couldn't carve his way through these kids, not for a stolen crystal. The cost was too high, the darkness within him too close to the surface, threatening to consume him.

He let the crystal slip away, the weight of his decision settling heavily on his shoulders.

Jackson sighed heavily, the weight of the night's events pressing down on him. There was still so much to do, so much to unravel. He briefly caught Gia's eye, noting that she had the situation under control. He offered a curt nod, a silent acknowledgment of her competence. Security was her domain; he had other priorities. The intel, the buyer, the potential fallout – those were his concerns now.

He wiped the blood from his knives on his pants, the metallic scent clinging to the fabric. He sheathed the blades, the familiar click a small sound in the chaos of the club. Then, he turned to face Abi and Gantt.

He flinched inwardly, a pang of regret twisting his gut. He realized the brutality Abi had likely witnessed, the stark contrast to the lighthearted evening they had been trying to enjoy. He couldn't meet her gaze, not yet. He focused solely on Gantt, his voice strained, his eyes betraying the weariness he tried to conceal.

"Gantt," he said, his tone urgent, "we need to go. Now. We have to figure out what secrets he just sold and how vulnerable that makes us."

His gaze flickered to the lifeless form of the lieutenant, a grim reminder of the night's deadly turn. Well, he won't be very helpful, he thought with a chilling practicality.

Abi's hand was covered in blood as she had felt for the man's pulse, to confirm his passing. The skirt of her dress had come into contact with the lieutenant's blood. Hearing Jackson's voice, Abi looked up from the body towards him. "Uh, don't we need to make a statement? Tell Gia and security about what happened? Just what happened?" Looking from Gantt to Jackson, then to the body. "Am I going to need to turn my dress in for evidence?" her voice filled with confusion and shock.

Jackson could hear the pleading in Abi's voice, the raw vulnerability beneath the shock. But he couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze, to face the judgment he expected to find there.

"Gia is here and will help you," he said, his tone clipped, far more brusque than he intended. The weight of his actions, the blood on his hands, the urgent need to retrieve the stolen intel - it all pressed down on him, fueling his need to escape the scene.

"We need to get to the station's Ops, ASAP," he barked, his eyes fixed on Gantt, his voice leaving no room for argument. Without a backward glance, he turned and strode towards the exit, his movements forceful and driven.

Abi watched as Jackson left rather quickly. Her brow furrowing in perplexity then she looked up at Gantt. "It's okay, go, I'll be okay. Like what Jackson said, you need to leave." Her voice surprisingly came out calm, even though she was feeling all jittery inside. Security was arriving, whether Gia could be there or not? Abi was good with that. The murder weapon was in the dead lieutenant's neck, and it wasn't going to be removed except when an autopsy was being done. She was going to make darn certain of that.

Gantt hesitated, his mind swirling in the churn of adrenaline and the gut-punch of what just happened. He glanced down at Abi—blood on her hands, her dress. Her voice was steady. Determined. Braver than she looked; braver than he felt in that moment.

"Gia will help keep a handle on this. Follow her lead," he said quietly. "I'll check back as soon as I can."

He gave her a quick, broad smile to say thank you and sorry and everything in between, then turned to follow Jackson, his pace accelerating. Gantt shot one last glance over his shoulder to make sure security was closing in. Then he disappeared into the Promenade.

[OFF]

Cadet Senior Grade Abigail Gordon
Nurse
USS Firebird NCC-88298


Lieutenant Soto Gantt (NPC by Leed)
Assistant Chief Engineering Officer
USS Firebird NCC-88298


Ensign Gianna Djokovic (NPC by Woodhouse)
Tactical Officer
USS Firebird NCC-88298


Lieutenant Jackson Smith
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Firebird NCC-88298

 

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