No Clues

Posted on Fri Aug 30th, 2019 @ 7:32pm by Executive Officer Jake Ford & Chief Helmsman Eden Bowers

Mission: Mission 10 - Temperance
Location: Jake's Quarters/Various corridors
1892 words - 3.8 OF Standard Post Measure

Eden was standing nervously in the corridor. She'd made an effort to look presentable. Her hair was braided down her back instead of piled haphazardly on her head. She was wearing a dark blue dress with little yellow flowers that Cassie had talked her into buying at the bazar because she said it brought out her eyes. Her face luckily didn't show any of the burns that had appeared there from the goo she'd come in contact with the last time they'd met. Eden was sucking in deep breaths and trying to calm the erratic and fast rhythm of her pulse before Jake found her standing out here.

Jake emerged from his quarters feeling strange. It had been a battle to get hold of something 'nice' to wear on reasonably short notice, particularly out in deep space. The older synthesizers on the Mary Rose weren't exactly the best when it came to clothing - indeed, at one point due to the continual malfunctions he'd almost been forced to wear a sleeveless tank top. Persistence, however, paid off, and he was able to rustle-up a well-fitting shirt and pants combination.

Seeing Eden standing there looking as she did made him double-take. She looked a lot different to the young woman in uniform he'd bumped-into a couple of times already.

"Hi," he managed to say. "You look good. Not that you don't normally. Just...it's a nice look on you."

Laughter erupted from her. "Sorry," she said, still giggling a little bit after a moment. "But you sound like me when I'm trying to talk to someone. "You look nice too. So what are we doing? Dinner? A walk? I purposely didn't wear heels, mostly because I don't own any but if I did I wouldn't have worn them because of the two encounters we've already had. I had visions of accidentally jabbing you in neck and I don't want to do that because you've been really nice."

"Coming from anyone else that would sound really weird, but given our track record you'll get no arguments from me." He relaxed from the tension a little. "As for this evening, I want you to know I had a lot of ideas - but every time I settled on something I started to wonder if the room was going to try to kill us both. So, how about a walk and then something simple to eat?"

"Sure." She bounced on her toes a bit. "I don't think the ship is trying to kill us," she said seriously. "It just likes tossing us together. Maybe since we're on a date it will behave itself? Or not, I suppose it's hard to tell. But anyway, this is fine. I like walks. Where are you from?"

"Originally? Well, Vega Colony - out past Tellar Prime - but we moved around a lot when I was a kid so I don't really have much of a sense of 'home'. Most I spent in one place was probably at the Academy," he reflected. "What about yourself?"

"Same, well not the same but I mean I'm from all over. I was born on Rigel IV but we went lots of places. Home was pretty much a ship because my parents were both scientists. Course I was born in 2216 so things are pretty different now, lots more planets to explore."

"I suppose that's true. I've dated older women once or twice, but I have to say none quite that much older than me..." Jake admitted. "I hope I look as good when I get to your age," he added with a wink.

"A hundred years in a transporter pattern buffer helps. But I don't recommend it to be honest. When I came out of there everything hurt for days. And there were so many people that didn't make it," she whispered more softly. This wasn't something she wanted to talk about. Tonight was supposed to be fun. "Anyway. Tell me something about you, I'm very curious."

"That's a really open question," Jake replied, suppressing a little laugh. Where to begin? "Clearly nothing quite beats the whole 'trapped in a transporter' anecdote. I'm really not all that interesting; traveled a lot as a kid. Me and my brother joined Starfleet together. He took to it, and I guess I didn't. You have anything more specific you wanted to know?"

"Everything, that's the problem. I can't think of anything specific. What about Starfleet? Why didn't you like it? I almost dropped out one time. I thought I didn't fit in very well but then I thought, well why am I caring about what other people think. It hasn't bothered me since."

Try not to hyperventilate, Eden... Jake thought as the words tumbled out of her mouth. He consciously held his answer a moment to give himself thinking time.

"I don't tend to settle down. I like to move around. Putting down roots just isn't really 'me' I guess," he explained. "The day-to-day routine of a patrol cruiser..." he shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose 'not fitting in' was my problem too."

"Oh well good job finding a place that fits you then. Everyone is an individual here, some more than others." She gave him a grin. "And there's lots of travel . . . some moments of pure terror like being trapped in that turbolift," she joked. She subconsciously touched her face, thinking about the rash that had resulted from the goo they'd encountered in just outside the cargo bay. "Anyway, is there anything you want to know about me?"

Jake thought about that for a moment. "I guess an obvious question is whether you thought about moving on from here? Surely things have changed a lot in the time you were...'out of it'? I guess if I were you I'd be interested in exploring and learning more about how things have changed. Weren't you ever tempted to leave? Go off and find out?"

"I've thought about it sure. I guess . . . ." she seemed to lose her words for a moment and look down at her feet then back at him. "I guess I've been a bit afraid. A lot of things have changed and this ship is familiar and feels a bit like home compared to the way the rest of the universe has changed while I was gone."

"I can understand that; strange place, strange universe. You need something that feels safer," he nodded. "There's no shame in staying. You've got a real second chance that a lot of people don't get."

"Looks like it might be time to finally leave her though," Eden sighed and kind of glanced up at the ceiling of the corridor for a second. "This is depressing what is supposed to be a fun evening, stop it Eden." She chastised herself out loud. "So . . . armory. Do you have some unconscious desire to rescue the universe?" She smiled, totally ignoring her earlier behavior.

"Yup, that's me. A regular intergalactic superhero." Jake chuckled at her moment of self-castigation. "You know, I once thought about taking up engineering, but it wasn't really for me. I'm far too big for a lot of crawling through the innards of a starship. And I'm good at looking all big and intimidating, so it seemed pretty natural. Other than when I'm upside-down on a cargo bay ceiling, that is."

"Hmmm," she seemed to be looking him over. "Maybe at first, but I've seen you dangling from the ceiling and completely covered in goo so you're much less intimidating now." Eden's thoughts suddenly quieted as they walked. She wasn't sure what else to say for the moment, a rarity with her. An idea popped in before too long though and she stopped walking. "Can I see your hand?"

"Huh? Oh, sure." Jake turned to face her and held out his hand, palm upright.

Eden took the hand, cradled it in one of her own and examined the lines running along the palm, tracing them with her finger tips and keep totally silent on the subject of what she was actually doing.

Jake stood there silently, not quite sure how to react. He'd seen palm readers before in carnivals and marketplaces, but never placed that much stock in them. Many were mystics from Federation member worlds he'd never even heard of. It was a little surprising that Eden would be into something like that - if indeed that was what she was doing.

"Thanks," she said finally, letting to of his hand. She gave no indication about what she'd been doing though and didn't look as if she was going to offer up anything. "What are we eating?" Eden asked curiously.

Jake didn't immediately answer. He'd expected some sort of explanation for the hand thing, but she seemed to have moved on as though it were perfectly normal. "Did...did you find what you were looking for?" he asked, barely noticing her question about food.

She laughed. "Yes, sorry. See this line here. I have a theory. I'm not a palm reader," she assured him. "But it seems like every man I've ever known that had a certain temperament had this line that ran down the length of the palm and made a little hook on the end. See?" she took his hand again to show him. "I look for it now, I know, it's silly."

"It's not silly," he replied gently. "This 'certain temperament'...what is it? What does it mean to you?"

Eden knew she had odd beliefs and so she had a bit of a blush to her face as she answered. "Well you're only the third man to have it, that I've seen mind you. But the others were my father and my husband. And they both had similar temperaments, patience, understanding, not easily angered." She shrugged.

"Huh," he noted. Although he was somewhat humbled by her description of his temperament, that wasn't chiefly what he'd noticed. "I didn't realise you were married," he admitted.

"No one did, you're only the second person I've ever told. He was the former Captain of this ship . . . . and I was an ensign. You couldn't exactly broadcast that kind of stuff back then, not if you wanted to keep your career. But, it was a long time ago. Is there an ex missus Ford that's going to murder me in my sleep? Jealous ex- girlfriend?" Eden said, putting the attention back on him.

He smiled at her. It was a strange relief that her former husband wasn't in the picture. And it was weird that the thought even crossed his mind. "I never stayed in one place long enough for that," he shrugged. "Unless you count that Orion slave girl..." he winked.

"Uhuh, well if she comes back I'll be ready. So . . . dinner? You have to feed me or I keep talking." Despite the subject, she was suddenly feeling much better, even playful. A weight had been lifted from her shoulders. He seemed okay with everything.

"Oh, I doubt that very much," he retorted. "You like Italian?"

"I do." She nodded enthusiastically. "I'm not much of a picky eater, except mushrooms. Never have liked those." She put her arm in his as they headed back towards his quarters.


:: OFF ::



Eden Bowers
Chief Helmsman
SS Mary Rose


Jake Ford
Chief Armoury Officer
SS Mary Rose