Dancing with Danger

Posted on Fri Jul 7th, 2023 @ 6:17pm by Lieutenant Phoebe Baxter & Lieutenant Jackson Smith

1,732 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Prelude to Rebirth
Location: Seedy bar at Deep Space Nine
Timeline: Some point in 6 month of boring missions

Jackson was grateful to Gantt for "discovering" a major issue with the engine that would require a several hour layover at Deep Space Nine. This gave him plenty of time to complete the needed transaction. Jackson sat at the dimly lit bar, a glass of bright green liquid in his hand. He couldn't pronounce the name of the drink, but it was a popular choice among the locals in this part of Deep Space Nine. He looked around the room, taking in the motley crew of aliens that populated the establishment. The very dim lighting and dark atmosphere made it difficult to see much.

A group of Klingons sat in one corner, their loud laughter filling the air. A pair of Ferengi were huddled in another corner, their heads close together in deep conversation. Jackson tried to listen in, but their language was too foreign for him to understand. Not the first time he wished he had Luka Stern at his side. She knew many things about all sorts of aliens. He definitely missed her.

His attention was drawn back to the task at hand as a small, hunched-over alien made its way to his table and sat down before him. The alien was cloaked with its hood up making it very difficult to determine any details. The alien spoke in a low whisper, and Jackson strained to hear the words over the noise of the bar.

"You the one I was supposed to meet?" the alien asked, its voice raspy and low.

Jackson nodded, trying to keep his voice low as well. "Yeah, that's me. You have the information I requested?"

The alien nodded, reaching into its pocket and pulling out a small data chip. Jackson easily slipped the data chip into one of his many pockets and nodded. He took a drink of the potent blue liquid. "Zulg will be pleased." Jackson could sense the smile that was deep within the alien's hood as it nodded and quickly stood. With a quick glance to the left and right, the alien slid off disappearing deeper into the bar.

At that moment, Phoebe Baxter entered the bar and felt all eyes fall on her. Or at least, she felt them fall on the flowing, frilly, bright yellow Bolian ballgown she was wearing. Her face instantly flushed a deep red at the attention, and she offered a timid smile and scanned the room for Keith Potter. The lighting was rather dim so she easily overlooked Jackson at the bar, but then again, her eyes were searching for an equally colorful tuxedo.

With Potter nowhere in sight, she lifted her dress and made her way to the bar, offering a polite wave to the bartender. "Um, hi! Maybe you can help me. I was supposed to meet a friend here for the, um, Cross Cultural Formal Dance class? This... doesn't appear to be the correct address, but it IS the one he gave me, so perhaps he was confused? Have you seen a human male in fancy dress come by in the past few minutes? He's about six feet tall, blonde... usually walks around with a swagger and, um, a vacant expression?"

The bartender simply shook his head no and returned to filling another round for the Klingons.

"Oh," Phoebe said softly. "Well, thanks anyway," She turned to the Bajoran couple next to her and repeated the question, as well as asking if they knew where the class was actually located.

Jackson's eyes turned with everyone else's as she walked into the bar. He rolled his eyes slightly. Ah this naive Mark has no clue what she just walked into. She was about to lose everything she has on her. She did look gorgeous in that yellow dress and her red hair framed her good looking face very nicely...OH SHIT, it's Phoebe , Jackson thought.

Jackson quickly scanned the bar and saw several different groups eyeing her up deciding if she was worth robbing or kidnapping for ransom. He had to act now. Hopefully this wouldn't compromise his cover too much. Jackson jumped up and slid right over to her side, he slipped his arm around her waist. "Hi, honey, you know that you aren't supposed to follow me when I am on business." Jackson leaned in very close to her ear and whispered, "Follow along, you are in danger." Then louder he continued, "Let's get you back to the apartment." Jackson started moving towards the door. His cold grey eyes catching each of the groups in a deadly stare, warning them, she was his Mark. He could only hope that would be sufficient.

"What? Hi! Huh?" Phoebe managed, thoroughly confused but instinctively trusting her shipmate. He'd called her honey, then whispered something about danger... what could be dangerous about a Federation run space station? Obviously, something, otherwise she wouldn't be getting ushered out the door by the Chief Intelligence Officer...

Intelligence Officer! Of course, she thought to herself. She must have accidentally stumbled into some clandestine operation, putting herself and Jackson, perhaps even the entire quadrant in peril. Whatever was going on was way out of her league, but if nothing else, she could help sell the cover story.

"Oh, Snookums, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt your business," she replied loudly so she could be heard confirming Jackson's words. "You know how loopy I get when I forget my medication!"

"It will be fine...." Jackson smiled at her as held her close and started escorting her out of the bar. A quick glance told them that not many were buying this charade and they needed to get out quickly. Just as they approached the door a fairly large Pakled stepped in front of them.

"I think you two need to stay and enjoy the atmosphere some more..."The uncharacteristically well spoken Pakled stared right at Jackson. His hands tightening into fists.

"We definitely would love to stay..." Jackson said as he caught movement in his periphery. There were a couple more slowly making there way behind them. This was going to end poorly if he didn't figure something out quickly.

"Sure we would!" Phoebe chimed in enthusiastically. "I mean, there's nothing saying we can't dance right here." She turned towards Jackson, placing his right hand on her hip, resting her left hand on his shoulder, and clasping their opposite free hands together. "Computer, play Moon River!" As the opening strains of the waltz filled the air, she shot a quick glance to the door and whispered, "Your lead."

Jackson tingled as his hand rested on her hip and as she leaned in. Then he smiled as he saw the Pakled staring dumbfounded. With a quick movement, Jackson "Waltzed" to the left and the to the right, he spun Phoebe right past the brute and followed quickly as realization started to show on the Pakled's face. Now that they were past them and just out the door, there was one thing left to do..."RUN!"

Phoebe kicked off her shoes, hiked up her skirts, and took off as fast as she could. Keeping pace with Jackson, she attempted an apology while breathing in short bursts as they barreled away from thugs giving chase. "Sorry.... if I... blew your...cover or... started... a war... or something..."

Jackson looked over at Phoebe as she tried to apologize. Jackson chuckled, "Ah no worries, this happens all the time. Just a normal day in being a spy."

Her short red hair was bouncing across her face as the moved quickly through the corridors. Her bright yellow dress ripping on random protruding metal as Jackson took them on a winding route. He seemed to turn down side corridors almost haphazardly. Then all of the sudden he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulled her tight against him and stepped into a slight opening in a wall. With a quick tap on the wall, a door shut close. Trapping them in darkness and some sort of small maintenance closet. He put his finger on her lips to keep her quiet. Jackson immediately slowed his breathing, despite the rush of adrenalin and flush of blood to his face as he realized how small this closet really was.

Phoebe was not regaining her composure as quickly as her friend - her lungs were screaming, and she continued to inhale and exhale frantically through her nose. It wasn't just the running. It was the fear. Now that they had stopped to hide, the idea that they really were in danger had time to sink in. She trusted Jackson implicitly, but her eyes were beginning to tear up. She was scared and found herself instinctively pressing closer against him even though there wasn't much space left to press.

Jackson felt Phoebe press closer to him, he could feel her fear. He leaned in and whispered in ear, "Just breathe. I've got you." Jackson listened very closely. It didn't take very acute hearing to hear the solid thuds of their pursuers. Within a few more moments, he knew they had passed by. He waited another few minutes, before reaching over and opening the door. "They have passed. They will give up fairly quickly, we aren't worth the trouble."

Leaning against Jackson, the science officer inhaled deeply, almost comically. "Thanks for the save. I mean it." She met his eyes and held them a moment to express her sincerity. "I'm also sorry if I got in the middle of something important. I have no idea what I could do to make amends, but, well... I'm still sorry."

Jackson looked into her eyes, he could see the kindness, happiness there. He smiled and chuckled, "No worries, you turned a dull afternoon into something exciting..." Jackson took her hand and lead her back through the corridors to a lift. He looked her over. Her fancy yellow dress that was ripped and covered in grease. "I have no idea where you are going, but let's get you back to the promenade." As the lift door closed and they started to go up, "Snookums?!?"

Phoebe shrugged. "I was trying to sell it..."


Lieutenant Jackson Smith
Chief Intelligence Officer
USS Firebird NCC-88298


Lieutenant Phoebe Baxter
Chief Science Officer
USS Firebird NCC-88298

 

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