Accidental Date

Posted on Tue Jan 13th, 2026 @ 12:47pm by Ensign Aidan "A.J." Reid

891 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: Not All Orders Are Easy
Location: Engineering
Timeline: Current

AJ strode into the gleaming expanse of Engineering, the metallic hum of equipment vibrating through his boots. His gaze caught on a copper-skinned woman with upswept eyebrows and those distinctive pointed ears he'd only seen in holovids. Back in Kingston, Vulcans were as rare as snow.

"Ey now, sistren," AJ called out, his rich Jamaican patois rolling through the sterile space. "Mi nuh mean fi interrupt yuh duties, but mi wonderin' if yuh could help out di Intelligence department wid a likkle situation. Starfleet Command send we dis test, seen? If yuh could answer some technical questions, yuh would be doin' di whole ship a favor, y'understand?"

The Vulcan officer pivoted precisely, her obsidian eyes betraying no emotion as she regarded him with clinical detachment. One eyebrow ascended toward her severe hairline.

"You performed what Humans woud call, burying the lead. Your request contains a logical inconsistency," she stated, her voice measured and devoid of inflection. "If Starfleet Command intended you to possess this knowledge, they would have provided it. Your solicitation suggests an attempt to circumvent established parameters. Colloquially: cheating."

AJ considered her words, his dark eyes narrowing beneath the fluorescent lights as he extended the PADD toward her once more. The Vulcan woman's slender fingers disappeared behind her regulation uniform, her posture becoming impossibly straighter—a physical manifestation of her refusal to participate in what she deemed academically dishonest.

"I must reiterate," she stated, one eyebrow arching precisely upward, "that such collaboration would constitute a violation of Starfleet ethical protocols regarding independent assessment."

AJ's shoulders slumped dramatically as he exhaled, his rich Jamaican accent flowing like warm molasses. "Ya not seein' de bigger picture, woman! Intelligence work be about gatherin' information from de most reliable sources by any means necessary. And who more reliable—or more beautiful—dan yourself?" He tapped the PADD emphatically. "Dis not cheatin'—dis be pure logic, me lovely Vulcan!"

The Vulcan's posture remained perfectly rigid as she spoke, her voice measured and precise. "Starfleet protocol dictates formal address as 'Sir' or by rank designation, Ensign."

Before AJ could respond, her arm moved with serpentine efficiency, plucking the PADD from his grasp. Her dark eyes scanned the data, one eyebrow arching slightly. "Your assessment contains... logical merit."

"De beauty part, yuh mean?" AJ's thick Jamaican accent rolled through the air between them. "Dat's jus' pure facts, y'know. If me did know speakin' truth would get yuh to check de reports, me wouldn't have buried the lead so deep, star."

The Vulcan's eyes lifted from the PADD, her face a perfect mask of neutrality save for the almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of her mouth. One eyebrow elevated precisely 0.4 centimeters higher than the other. AJ couldn't decide if nearly making a Vulcan smile might rupture the fabric of the universe or be the greatest accomplishment of his Starfleet career.

Her obsidian eyes lingered on his face a heartbeat too long before dropping to the sleek metallic PaDD in her slender green-tinged hands. "The extension of the temporal parameters governing subspace field integration would create an anomalous reading in the origin point calculation," the Vulcan explained, her voice as precise as a quantum algorithm. "The previous radio frequency signature would be the sole variable to undergo modification prior to integration."

"Me coworker 'ad it right all along, and I couldn't see it," AJ groaned, his thick accent deepening with frustration. "De answer to Starfleet's equation been starin' me in de face, but I dismiss it as too theoretical, yeah?"

One elegant eyebrow arched upward. "Your emotional response is... illogical," the Vulcan observed. "You have acquired the necessary data. Yet I detect regret rather than satisfaction. Fascinating."

AJ exhaled slowly, his broad shoulders dropping as he accepted the PADD with both hands. His dark eyes crinkled apologetically at the corners as he met the Vulcan's unwavering gaze.

"Ya catch emotions like a true Betazoid for someone from a place where dey don't exist, ya know dat?" His accent rolled through the words. "But ya right though. It is... what ya people say... fascinating, mon."

"I propose we continue this discourse during the midday meal period," the Vulcan replied, her posture remaining perfectly erect. "Select an appropriate public establishment that is not your personal quarters for our initial social engagement."

She maintained her stoic expression, only the slightest arch of one elegant eyebrow betraying any reaction. After precisely 3.4 seconds, she tilted her head 23 degrees to the right and waited with characteristic Vulcan patience.

"Excuse me? Me ears must be playing tricks, or maybe dat Andorian rum from last night still in me system. Did ya just propose a date?"

"You expressed aesthetic appreciation for my features," she stated matter-of-factly. "I observe your only digital adornment is your Starfleet Academy graduation band. Our assignment to separate divisions creates a scenario devoid of ethical, professional, or social impediments, particularly given your unattached status. The logical conclusion is that extended conversation would prove intellectually stimulating and mutually advantageous. The Vulcan tapped her chest. "Scan my credentials. I am Ensign Na'Riss."

"AJ," he replied, his voice barely audible over the hum of the ship's systems. He stood frozen, watching as she pivoted with military precision and strode away, her regulation boots clicking against the polished deck plating, copper-tinged skin catching the overhead lights as she disappeared around the curve of the corridor.

 

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