Finding the Possibilities Part 2

Posted on Tue Mar 6, 2018 @ 7:52pm by Ensign Willow Riordan & Lieutenant JG Jacob Hartley

Mission: Falling Star
Location: The Black Hole
Timeline: MD 30 || 1630 Hours

Thirty minutes to the second, Willow walked in wearing a sleeveless soft grey shirt, a pair of blue jean-like pants, and a pair of sneakers. She let her long red hair down and a hint of blush adorned her cheeks and a touch of pale pink lipstick graced her full lips. She looked around, then headed to the bar, taking a seat where she could see the door while she waited for Jacob.

A quick shower later, a pair of black jeans and a black shirt meant Jacob was ready. He wore something similar when in Intel, of course. It was comfortable for him. As he walked, he allowed a small smile as he looked around the restaurant. He quickly spotted Willow, and made his way over to her. "You look great." He complimented her. "Have to admit, not actually eaten in here yet. Been meaning to."

"Thank you," she said as she openly appraised him. "So do you. The food smells wonderful and there's even a game room in the back." She pointed to the sign over a door near the rear of the restaurant. "Do you want a table?"

"Sounds like a plan." He said, smiling. "Do we need to ask for a table or just sit down, I wonder." He said. He took a sniff of the air. "You're right, smells great."

The bartender looked up when he asked the question. "Just have a seat wherever one's open," the Bolian said. "The tables are equipped with PADDs so you can order when you choose to. Do you want drinks before you decide?"

"I'll have a Risan Sunrise," Willow said and looked at Jacob. "How about you?"

"I'll have an Icoberry Juice, please." Jacob said.

"One Risan Sunrise and one Icoberry coming right up," the bartender said and turned to make it.

"You know that stuff will turn your lips and tongue blue for hours, don't you?" Willow asked him.

"Been told that. Never actually had anyone confirm it, or worried much about it." Jacob said. "Tell you what, make it a Tropical Fruit Juice." He said. "Blue tongue and lips, probably not good over dinner."

"Noted," the Bolian said and gave them their drinks after changing his.

"Now for a table?" she asked.

"Sure." Jacob said, as he led the way to a table. It wasn't entirely busy, which allowed them a small modicum of privacy. He placed his drink down, and pulled out a chair for her, remembering something his adoptive father had told him about when taking a lady for a meal.

Willow cocked an eyebrow but accepted the seat as she sat down. "Thank you, oh archaic and polite one," she said.

Jacob chuckled softly as he sat down. "Something my dad taught me. He was the same way when he took my mother for dinner. Always let the lady sit down first. Good manners, forks for restaurant's go from the outside in, stuff like that. Never used the information before." He explained, before taking a sip of his drink.

"Well, I am supposed to be an infiltration specialist, so that means I'll blend in, kind sir," she said as she tapped her glass and brought up the swirls of color of the sunset in her drink.

"I always found it interesting how a drink could change colors like that." Jacob said. "I never was good at science or understanding the reaction between different liquids. I got through school well enough, but it is pretty." He said, before taking a sip of his drink.

"It's just different layers of alcohol that swirl when mixed with a bit of fancy work," Willow said. "But it does look nice."

Jacob nodded. "I remember when I was younger, the first time I saw a nebula. I was seven, and for me, it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, aside from seeing Earth from space for the first time. It was...impressive. It was then I decided I wanted to see more of space. When did you decide you wanted to be out here?" He asked.

"My older brother's a Starfleet Commander," she told him. "He told me that there's nothing like being among the stars, seeing new worlds come into view, meeting different species and exploring. I decided to follow in his footsteps. How about you?"

"My adoptive mother is a retired Intel agent, she taught me about the service, and helped me learn skills growing up that would be a good fit. Almost didn't join though, until High School. I was part of a small group that trained in Parkour, and we wanted to use our skills to help others, so we all joined Starfleet at the same time. I was the only one to go into Intelligence. We all said we wanted to serve on the same ship, but you know how often that happens. We lost touch after graduation, different assignments and such. But I learned more from being in Intel than I imagined I would." He replied.

"What exactly is Parkour?" Willow asked. "It sounds French and the universal translator isn't interpreting it."

"It was developed in France, in point of fact." Jacob replied. "It's a training discipline, using movement that developed from military obstacle course training. Primarily the aim is to get from one point to another in a complex environment without equipment to assist. Used to be quite popular on Earth in the 20th century. People used it for a number of reasons, including for stunts for movies, for martial arts and in some cases, to show off. I use it as both a practical and mental discipline. It allows me to use somewhat unique martial arts forms, but also helps improve my intuition, reflexes and concentration." Jacob explained.

"It also gives me a new viewpoint in different environments. I assess any environment for obstacles and consider ways to get over them. I've been told it's impressive, but for me, it's never been about showing off, except maybe once or twice when I was younger." He added.

"It sounds really interesting," she said as she looked at the PADD embedded on the table and sorted through the menu. "I bet it gives a great workout, too."

"Well, yes, that's an added benefit too." He agreed, with a smile. "I tend to have a strict training regime. Wake up in the morning, go for a run, incorporating different obstacles on the holodeck. Little time in the gym, shower, then breakfast. Same routine since I was ten. Granted, my workout has gotten more intense since I was a child, but I always find it helps. That way, I can say whatever happens, I've succeeded at something each day." He said, glancing at the menu as Willow sorted through it.

"Does it have different tactics and maneuvers?" Willow asked as she selected a bacon cob'lat sandwich, half a giant Romulan mollusk and a side salad.

"That's the thing; you can create your own kinds of tactics. There is no single method for it. It depends on the environment around you, and how confident you are with it." He said, as he selected a grilled chicken salad.

"I'll have to check it out sometime," she said as she took another sip of her drink. "I usually stick to weapons training in the holodecks and doing xeno programs to study the different species."

"I'd be happy to show you, if you like." He offered. "Weapons training has always been...well, hit and miss, as it were. I'm proficient, but I do prefer to not need to fight. I'm good at hand to hand, but my mentor as a child said to be that if one must resort to violence, then they have already lost." He said. "But if you must fight, win." He added.

"Show me a Klingon or Romulan that doesn't fight and I'll show you a dead one," Willow countered. "Remember, I'm an infiltration specialist and I have to fit into many different cultures."

"There have been some, although only a few, I will admit. Every culture has their own views, and those who don't agree with them. There are Klingon farming communities, and a number of Romulan's who choose a life of contemplation. But I accept that as a culture, both have chosen violence over diplomacy on many occasions." He said. "Still, it's why we do what we do, so alternative routes can be found aside from violence, if one can be found."

"I've never been sent to a Unificationist or a Klingon farming community, though," she said. "What use to infiltrate those places when the information I need usually comes from the capitals?"

"I have, once. Can't talk about it, but it was certainly...an interesting experience." Jacob said. He took a sip of his drink, and looked at her. "That's one thing I am grateful to Intel for; it's allowed me a different view of the universe. I've known a number of Fleet Officers who were assigned only to Earth for their whole careers, or in relatively safe locations, thinking that was all they needed to know about the universe. It's not nice out here, but at the same time, it's not without hope and beauty either."

"Safe is boring," Willow said as their food showed up. "Give me action and adventure any day. I never learned the art of being patient but I can fake it really well."

Jacob chuckled. "When I first started at the academy, I was terrible with patience." He said. "William, my mentor, tried through my first year, but I had difficulty with it. So, at the end of my first year, he asked me to agree to a special training routine, for two weeks. Catch was, I couldn't quit, but he promised that by the end of it, I would understand patience more." He said.

"I accepted, and when I reported for the first day, I was stunned. When I woke up, I found myself on a tall plateau, on a large stone pillar. It was very sturdy and stable, but I could either sit down, stand up, or lie down. Nothing else. Beautiful scenery, but I was alone. At night, I was beamed into a runabout that had no propulsion, but a bed and a sonic shower. I would wake up in the morning, get dressed, and be beamed back to the pillar at seven am. If I wasn't dressed, tough luck, I'd be beamed naked. That only happened the first morning, when I was testing it. Unfortunately, it was a very cold day." Jacob explained.

"At the end of the two weeks, I found out it was all a holodeck simulation. Only William had been watching me, but I learnt to meditate, and I learnt what patience was. I continued the program when I had days off, or when I felt my patience slipping." He added.

"You weren't given any food and there was no way off of it?" Willow asked after taking a bite of her cob'lat burger like a Klingon and began to chew it up.

"I was allowed food in the evening, and morning, before. Enough to make sure I had the right level of nutrition. But no, no way off it. It was high in the clouds, couldn't see the ground at all." Jacob said, before cutting into his chicken and taking a bite. He savored it and smiled, enjoying the taste of it. "The first couple of days, I screamed out loud, angrily. I saw no one, and I didn't expect to see anyone. As far as I knew, I was going to be in that routine for two weeks. So I lost the anger and accepted it. I began to find a way to be patient, because there wasn't anything else to learn there. Hard lessons can often be the most effective." He said.

"For me, it's like slipping on another layer over myself," she said contemplatively. "I immerse myself in the role that I'm going to play and become it. So if it's patience, I put on the appearance of patience. If it's a Klingon, I become Klingon, and so forth. I had a lot of conditioning at the Academy and it helps me when I need it."

"But the problem is, in that scenario, it's just an appearance. What if you don't have time to slip that layer on? What if you're in the heat of the moment, and you need to be patient, even though everything is telling you to go? That's another reason I put a lot into my Parkour training, because seeing the situation and analyzing it quickly is well and good, but sometimes, you need to look beyond the solution you see. That's why I was so angry with myself earlier, because I didn't do that." He said.

"But that's just my view. That's what I love about Starfleet, we may have different views, but that helps us. Take ten Klingon Warriors, and you have ten Klingon Warriors. Take ten Starfleet officers, you have ten different ways of doing things." He added. He took another bite of his meal, enjoying it. He did wonder why he hadn't been here before; the food was much better than the replicator food.

"That is so true, but there's always time to slip on the layer because once it gets conditioned into you, it'll always be there for you," Willow countered. "And don't believe the hype about all of another species being the same, because all ten Klingon Warriors will be trying to outdo the others and gain the greater glory and honor."

"True, but with Klingon's, if they try to outdo the others, chances are they'll see them as targets. I understand that promotion through execution tends to be a popular method on ships. Can you imagine if Starfleet did that? Commodore Aravan would definitely be looking at the crew a lot closer." Jacob said, smirking as he took a sip of his drink. "Of course, then our job would be harder, figuring out who would want to take his job."

"I studied his personnel file when I learned what my assignment was and he's former Security. He's also a martial artist and he's relentless. If I were him, the first thing I would do is take out Security, Tactical and Intelligence as competition. Then I'd coerce others that my way is the only way and offer people the airlock or their undying loyalty." Willow said after eating some of the mollusk.

Jacob chuckled as he ate some of his meal. "Well, good to know you've got it all planned. I've studied his file as well, and I've got a healthy respect for the man. I've seen his command style, and unlike some Captain's, he's taken time for his family. I will admit, I think facing him would be a hell of a challenge. But then, if it was to challenge him for command, I don't think I'd do it. I know some people are interested in the big chair, but it's never held any sway for me. My focus is to complete each mission, and maybe one day, if it's right that it should happen, is to have a family of my own." He said.

"What is your goal in regards to your career?" she asked as she took another sip of her drink.

"I honestly don't think of one. For me, at the moment, my career is to analyse data, complete field work, and gather intelligence for Starfleet, to help others. Beyond that...just to complete each mission. Never thought much beyond the mission. I complete one mission, I get another. Maybe I should have a goal, but I guess I never put much thought into it." Jacob admitted, thinking about the question.

"Come on, Jacob," Willow said. "You're an Intel agent. That's our job to think ahead. I want to end up as the Admiral in charge of Starfleet Intelligence one day. I want to go up the ladder until I make Chief of Intelligence, then take Command training and head back to Earth so I can watch over everything."

Jacob smiled. "Well, it sounds like you have everything planned ahead. I suppose I wouldn't mind being the head of a department, when I'm ready. Admiral's...well, the thing is, when you're an Admiral, you don't get to go out there. Usually, you're at a desk. Being on a ship, exploring and understanding...it's pretty special. Besides, if I planned to take over the Chief role, wouldn't that mean I'd have you nipping at my heels?" He asked. "And seeing how you dispatched that Orion on the holodeck, I think I would rather keep my head in one piece." He teased slightly.

She laughed. "I only break the knives out when I don't have a choice of convincing people verbally. Besides, attacking someone from behind is cowardly. AS for not being able to get out, there's no way I'd be chained to a desk. I'd commandeer a starship and make it my mobile base."

"But that isn't always a choice. I may not be an Admiral or Captain, but I'm out here, I'm doing something important, what I enjoy doing. I don't need a high rank for that. I just need a rank." He said. "I will admit, serving on this ship has been a great assignment. It's had its moments, but it's a good crew, and a good ship. There's a relaxed feel in Intel, and we do have some of the best gadgets going." He said.

"And, every so often, something surprises me. Being here with you at dinner...that, I could never have seen coming. Usually, I eat in my quarters whilst catching up on reports, or writing in my journal." He added.

"It's a huge ship full of people," Willow said after another bite of her meal. "Besides, you're cute."

Jacob allowed himself a smile. "That's someone else unexpected. Can't actually remember the last time anyone called me cute, if they even did." He confessed. "And I may be cute, but I don't hold a candle to you." He said. He then closed his eyes, and shook his head. "That may have been one of the corniest or cheesiest things I've ever said. True, but still..." He said, hoping he hadn't just made a complete fool of himself.

She smiled and put down her fork to reach over and lay a hand on his. "Thank you, Jacob," she said with a hint of a blush on her cheeks. "I'm just me, and that's all I expect other people to be. Themselves. Unless I have to be a Klingon, then I'd say moH 'ej SoH paH SoSlI' tlhaQ."

The Universal Translator paused for a brief moment at the Klingonese, then translated it as 'You're ugly and your mother dresses you funny.'

When she laid a hand on his, he felt...well, he wasn't sure. But he hadn't felt anything like it before. It was for a brief moment, of course, but it was there. When she spoke in Klingon, he couldn't help but laugh. "Is that meant to be Klingon poetry? Because I never understood the Klingon idea of romance. As I understand it, heavy objects are thrown about. I think I prefer the human method." He said, drawn in by her blush.

"Tu es magnifique quand tu rougis." He added, with a small smile, taking a sip of his drink.

Now the blush bloomed to life on her cheeks and she looked down as the UT translated what he had said. "Thank you again," she said softly. "As for the Klingon poetry, it's usually more romantic than saying your mother dresses you funny. They may be warriors but in love, they sing epic ballads of bravery and honor."

TBC