Subsurface Pleasantries

Posted on Tue Jan 6th, 2026 @ 1:13pm by Ensign Kevin Mitchell & Ensign Aidan "A.J." Reid

629 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: Shore Leave on Risa
Location: Ensign A.J. Reid's Quarters
Timeline: After Reid's meeting with Kate on Risa

Since the meeting on Risa, AJ had beamed back aboard the Washington, located his quarters, and donned his uniform. He spent the interim researching Lieutenant Commander Tapping, making a bit of headway—until his console beeped. He’d learned that Kevin had been in his quarters that morning when Kate found the bikini top in the sand. Putting two and two together, AJ’s suspicions shifted toward Kevin. He still couldn’t explain why the bra was there, but Tapping was an intelligence operative like they were—and Kevin was the odd variable.

When the door slid open, AJ wasn’t surprised to find Kevin standing in the frame: the tall blond from the dossier. With a tap on his keyboard, AJ instantly flooded the main screen with harmless music videos.

“Ensign Reid?” Kevin asked, leaning in with a practiced smile.

“Ensign Mitchell,” AJ replied with a nod. Both were junior-grade ensigns—and vying for the same promotion as Ben Dalton current rank—so the mood turned strictly professional.

“I came up from Risa to see how you’re settling in,” Kevin said. “As the senior Ensign on the team, I thought I should check if you need anything squared away.”

AJ returned a polite smile and a curt nod. He’d already made his point about not tolerating rank posturing, but a warm reception now would be the smartest play.

Ey, big tanks, boss man! Ya know, dat Lieutenant Kono from Risa, she catch me 'bout an hour back—she beat ya to de punch with de welcome, ya see—but hearin' from all de staff be pure sunshine! Me heart already singin' with de vibes in dis place!"

Kevin kept his tone neutral. “Good to hear. One more thing: your hair is longer than regulations allow for an active posting. Now that you’re aboard, we’ll need you to conform. I trust you understand. Again, it’s great to have you here, Ensign.”

AJ leaned back, steepled his fingers, and flashed his trademark grin—a carefully constructed mask concealing the rapid-fire calculations already whirring behind his eyes. The moment the door sealed shut, his smile faltered. The hair would indeed have to go. With a dismissive shrug, he refocused on the terminal before him, fingers dancing across the LCARS interface with practiced precision. He bypassed three security protocols, rerouted through a subspace encryption node, and executed a cross-reference algorithm of his own design. The database yielded to his expertise as he filtered through personnel records, academy transcripts, and classified mission reports. After seventeen seconds of intensive searching, the screen illuminated with his quarry: a grainy academy photograph of Cadet Tapping from Red Squad, timestamped nearly two decades prior.

AJ's eyes lit up with recognition. "Ah-ha! Der she is—Miss Tapping!" He tapped his stylus against the woman's pixelated face, leaving small smudges on the glossy screen. "If yuh lookin' any betta now dan back den, somebody musta been real happy 'bout leavin' dat bra behind on de beach, girl…" His rich Jamaican accent rolled through the room as he chuckled, a deep sound that started in his belly and worked its way up, his impossibly white teeth catching the light as his smile widened.

AJ transmitted his findings to Kono's secure terminal, then grabbed his clippers from the nightstand. In the bathroom mirror, his reflection stared back with determination as he guided the humming blades across his scalp, methodically sculpting a high and tight cut reminiscent of Commander LaForge's distinctive style. Clumps of dark hair peppered the sink as his mind rehearsed how he'd approach the USS Washington's crew about the scanning assignment. He needed their sensors to pinpoint that Starfleet vessel lurking in Risa's orbit—the key to unraveling the next thread of this investigation.

 

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