Not Even a Scratch...

Posted on Sun Jun 14th, 2026 @ 5:22pm by Sergeant Jace Morven & Rook

3,377 words; about a 17 minute read

Mission: Pilot - "The Gate"
Location: The Green Kiss
Timeline: Shortly after 'First Contact'

Jace Morven hadn't changed out of his combat gear. His hair was dry now though, sweat having cooled as things changed. He was bruised, the scrapes had scabbed, blood congealed. He was not hurt. With everything that had happened, now it was calmer...he allowed himself to focus on the things he had pushed to the side in battle.

Elen was fine. He had seen her as she had rushed around Engineering. She would do it until she collapsed, he knew that well enough. Lucy was safe. Cressida was being looked after. Lyo was dead. He frowned slightly as he walked, phaser rifle swung over his shoulder. The First Officer had talked to him, once. It had been a strange conversation. They never did run into each other again.

But no. He was not lingering on the dead. His feet took him to the Green Kiss. There were marks of the meson weapons...the cleanup had already happened, the bodies being removed. But some signs were still there. The ship was bruised, the same was as the crew. Someone's bloody fingers had touched the door, and they opened for Jace without any question. His eyes went to the bar at once as he walked over, eyes inspecting Rook with cold focus.

Rook looked immaculate, along with the inside of the lounge. Rather than propping up the bar, the Romulan / Vulcan hybrid sat beside it. His feet were up on a table, crossed casually at the ankle where he was draped back in the chair. His long, black wavy hair was as sleek as ever, and his black leather trousers, crisp white shirt and layered black silk vest didn't have so much as a thread out of place. Rook looked up from where he was shaping his nails with a rather vicious looking metal file, a small smile pulling at his lips at seeing who it was. "Ah, Jace! I'd ask how you are, but...well...you look terrible."

Jace blinked at the words before he shrugged, walking over to him. His eyes were on the metal file for a moment before they went back to the man, and then to the bar. It looked...fine. Except he saw a few small signs of something. Blood against the bar, a smudge of it. The rip in a chair, the scrape over a table. A place in the wall looked like antlers had hit it. "I look the same as always," he said, lightly, before sitting down. He put the rifle on the bar, taking a slow breath.

"Hm, not really," Rook chuckled as he set his boots back on the deck. "Usually, you look like you want a drink. Now, you look like you need one. Let me get you something."

Jace looked at him before he shook his head. No. He felt...too cold for something that might dull his senses. "Not...the drinks you make," he finally said. "Mint tea. Warm...with sugar."

"I can make that happen," Rook assured, moving to boil water the old fashioned way. He was sure it made a difference. "I hear you had a spot of bother out there."

Jace looked at him, studying his movements as he sat there, still...his chest barely moving with his breaths. "I was fine. Obeying the...stun order was hard. I did not follow it constantly."

"Stun order?" Rook replied with an arched eyebrow, a soft chortle escaping at the very idea of it. "What a waste of a rifle..." he slapped the mint in his hand before dropping it into a glass cup.

"We're Starfleet," Jace said, as if it explained it all. His eyes were a little unfocused as he sat there, going over it in his mind. "But after a while instinct takes over."

Rook watched him as he poured a dash of sweet nectar into the cup. He supposed it was true, but he stood by his original statement. "And you saved the ship," he concluded.

Jace looked at him for a long moment, thinking about it. "I don't know what will happen," he said, because he didn't. "If we will fight them again."

"You'll send their hearts back in a crate to them," Rook said lightly, pouring the boiled water on with an elegant hand. "One thing that won't change it, is worrying."

He studied him at the words, lips parting before he tilted his head with slight confusion. "I knew you'd be fine," he finally said. "And you look...untouched."

"Did you expect me to be...touched?" a small smile curled at the corner of Rook's lips as he slid the cup across to him with a deliberate tap of a nail against the bar.

Jace reached for it, wrapping his hand around it. The steam curled up, the scent soothing something old inside of him and he breathed in slowly. "I expected to find you covered in their blood," he said before he lifted the cup to sip. Sweet and minty...he closed his eyes at the familiar taste. The sweetness was a little...different though. Not unpleasant.

"And ruin a particularly good outfit?" Rook settled his arms on the bar as he leant in closer to him with a small smile. "I can hear the gears turning in your head from here."

"It's not sugar," he said as he looked at him, searching his features before he put the cup down. It was still good though. It settled something in him. "It is a good outfit. Maybe...next time...you should have a not so good outfit in case it gets...messy."

"I managed," Rook replied coyly with a quirk of an eyebrow, motioning back to the bottles behind him...not one was broken.

Jace's eyes went to the bottles before he nodded, raising an eyebrow. Not surprise. But appreciation. "You funnelled them at the door...they never got past the dance floor."

Rook tilted his head in a delicate nod at his observation. Jace's common sense of such things was one of the reasons he liked the man. "Thornbane will rest well tonight."

Jace nodded, tilting his head to look at him, his eyes going to his hands. "And you?" he asked, quietly.

"Well I won't lose sleep over what I did, if that's what you mean," Rook replied firmly, his eyes glinting as he watched his face. "Although, it may take some time for the adrenaline to fade...."

Jace gave a curt nod, taking a slow breath. "Yes. It takes a while before the...feeling shifts," he said as he studied his hands. "That balance of...life and death."

Rook watched him intently, not used to seeing Jace so...off balance. He leant in closer to him on the bar. "But you didn't choose it for them. They chose death the moment they invaded our ship."

He blinked, looking at him, almost looking confused at Rook being so close to him. He gave a small nod. "But the orders were to stun," he said, as if that was what he couldn't reconcile. Having killed with a no-kill order.

"You don't fight fire with a paper fan," Rook said bluntly, holding his eyes intently. "Life is a story of death. They were inviting it, so you delivered it."

He gave a nod and lifted the mug, taking a sip before he looked at him. "As did you," he said when he lowered the mug. His eyes stayed on Rook, as if he could see the evidence of violence somewhere on him...even if he couldn't. Rook looked untouched.

"And I would do it again," Rook replied with a rare flash of honesty. No games. No coyness.

"Same," Jace finally said and he rolled his shoulders. Slowly. As if releasing an unspoken tension with the truth of it. His hands were steady. He sat back a little, glancing at Rook's face. "It just was. We won this time."

"We are all dancing on the wheel of fortune. Life is just a gauntlet of trials that we either win or lose. Today, we won, and they lost," Rook lifted a single shoulder in an elegant shrug.

Jace looked at him with confusion at the words. His lips moved lightly, almost as if he tried the metaphors out for himself. And clearly they didn't settle well. He pushed it aside, watching him closely. "I think it takes a lot for you to lose. You are a survivor."

"When some people play the game, they play the game," Rook gave the softest chuckle at the words, shaking his head as he searched his features. "You don't play the game. You dominate it."

"No option. You either act or you die...and I don't want to die," Jace said, his voice quiet as he met Rook's eyes for a moment. "Not now."

"And here you are," Rook tilted his head, as if that said it all. He reached for the hot water, giving him a top up.

Jace reached out, his hand going to touch Rook's wrist, fingers closing lightly as he watched him. He swallowed at feeling the skin under his fingers. "I got a question."

Rook looked to the hand with mild surprise, although it didn't show on his features. Jace had never done that before. He reached out, draping his hand over Jace's wrist that was now against his own. He didn't grip it though, not wanting him to feel trapped. Just...contact. "Yes?"

"Why did you want to feel my heart, last time?" he met his eyes, not moving his hand. He let himself feel the temperature of Rook's skin, the hand over his own, without dwelling on why he had felt the need to reach out.

A small, playful smile pulled at Rook's lips and he searched his eyes for a long moment, deciding what he should tell him. "It felt...right," he finally offered with a light shrug of his shoulders. "You can seem so...distant at times. I wanted to feel the life of you."

Jace studied his face as he said it before he let out a breath. "I don't mean to," he finally said. "It's just how I...think. Or not. Sometimes."

"I know," Rook replied gently, his knowing eyes softening at the words. He reached out, pinching his chin tenderly with his free hand. "But it was good to know more of you. What did you think of it, Jace?"

Jace blinked at the touch, stilling, his breath catching. Unexpected, tender. The way Rook was watching him felt more difficult than when he was teasing him. He glanced away. "It...was an exchange," he said, quietly. "It made it easier."

"What made you think of it just now?" Rook asked curiously, his lithe hand sliding a little higher along Jace's jaw to tuck some dark hair behind his ear.

"I don't know," Jace admitted as his fingers tightened for a second around Rook's wrist before he let go. But he didn't pull back, his hand still covering Rook's. He shivered at the touch against his ear, lips parting. "The fighting, I think."

"Life," Rook said softly with understanding, nodding easily as he studied the rounded tip of his ear. "Feeling alive."

Jace looked at him, searching his features for a long moment, taking a slow breath. "All the things opposite to death," he finally said. "It made me think of my heart. And your hand resting over it. Which made me think of you, and how you did here."

Rook let his hand drop to press to Jace's chest instead, but over his shirt this time. Jace didn't need to feel more vulnerable. "I'm honoured...."

"I apparently look awful," Jace said, and there was a glint in his eyes as he looked at him. He pulled back, but not before his fingers found Rook's pulse, testing it for a moment. He reached for his mug, holding it. "You always look like you belong on the holodeck."

"The holodeck?" Rook laughed softly as he plucked a peach from a bowl, using a knife to carve a slice out of it, offering it over. "Is that an observation or an invitation?"

Jace looked at the fruit before he reached out and took it. He put it in his mouth, the sweet juiciness a little bit of a surprise. He swallowed, considering it. "You might not like the holodeck programme I use. It was...an observation."

"And what kind of character would I be on the holodeck?" Rook asked with amusement, carving out a slice for himself.

Jace looked at him as he considered it, studying him closely. He thought about the sort of programmes Elen talked about. "Pirate."

"Pirate? A pirate?" Rook smiled widely, laughing as he cut more of the peach to offer to Jace. "It's the boots, isn't it..."

"It's the necklace, the hair, and the shirt more than to boots," Jace said and reached for the peach, but his eyes were on the knife more than Rook. "The boots look fine."

"Fine?" Rook arched an eyebrow of absolute disbelief before shaking his head with a tsk. He pulled the stool he kept behind the bar closer, stepping onto it with one foot so that he could set the other booted foot onto the bar, level with Jace. "Handcrafted....exclusive leather...perfectly balanced....weighted heels...woven silk laces...one of a kind embossing...broken in by experience...and outlived everyone that never heard them coming...." he'd hooked his hands under the folds of the open silk black vest to set them on his hips....but despite the words, there was a hint of playfulness on his features. "I'd accept many words to describe these boots....'fine' isn't one of them."

Jace looked up at him, tilting his head. He gave a small nod and looked at them for a moment, as if judging them. "And here I was thinking replicated standard Ground Forces kit was enough," he said and reached out, his finger following the embossing, slowly.

"No. They are a vessel of sadness, laced up with dispair..." Rook declared dryly, but his eyes glinted.

"They fit," Jace countered as he looked at him, tilting his head. "Supports the foot and ankle, doesn't fall off when you walk in mud...silent when they need to be, loud when you need them to be. Wear them, repair them and when you can't any more you get a new pair."

Rook yawned, patting a delicate beringed hand against his mouth with it. "Functional is another word I never want associated with my clothing..." he jumped lithely down.

Jace looked at him and raised an eyebrow. For a moment, there was a look on his face. "Yes, would be a shame if something just worked without helping your aesthetics..." he said lightly.

Rook laughed softly at the words, offering over another slice of peach as he met his eyes. "Don't underestimate how much aesthetics make things work."

He took it, watching him closely before he shook his head. "I...would not even know how to think of it," he admitted, with a shrug. For him what mattered was if something was functional. Anything else just...was.

"It works for you too, you just don't know it," Rook leant on the bar to him with a small smile of amusement. "Handsome face, but the expression is always so intense...that dark hair that's just long enough to say you don't care...the utilitarian military clothes that speak of raw power and skill. Everything tells your story...changing the aesthetic just changes the story."

Jace's hand went to his hair, to feel it. A few days away from needing it cut. His eyes went back to Rook and he narrowed them slightly. A small spark in him, to argue, to push back. And then he let it go as...not important. "And what story would you give me, if you were changing it?" he suddenly asked, curious.

"Now that depends what you mean," Rook said softly with a small smile at the new game. "What story would I give the man in front of me? Or how would I change your aesthetics to make a different story?"

"The last," Jace said, because he was curious to what Rook would say. He took the cup to sip, the liquid not as hot now.

"Hm..." Rook took a moment to think, smiling to himself. He reached out, curling a piece of Jace's dark hair around his finger. "This would be longer, past your jaw, revealing a man free of his chains..." he let his hand drop, pressing a fingertip against Jace's uniform, dragging it down over the length of his chest. "Something soft...something dark...but tight enough to show your strength over yourself and the world around you..."

Jace arched an eyebrow, watching him for a moment, searching his eyes. He had asked. The touch, the closeness, made his skin prickle, made his breath tighten a little. "Something stylish, to compliment your clothes and...boots?" he asked, and found his own voice quiet.

"Of course," Rook chuckled, searching his eyes, his own glinting playfully. "And to suit that body, which is wasted in combats. I'll let you keep your boots though, seeing as you like them so much. Besides...you do sort of make them look good...somehow..."

Jace let out a breath, breaking eye contact when he felt it difficult to be so blatantly under his gaze. "They are comfortable," he said, as if it explained it all. The compliment...it was there but didn't settle. His eyes flickered to Rook, running over his body for a moment. "You're stronger than you...look."

"It suits me to look that way," Rook replied on a soft, hushed breath, as if sharing a secret.

"You're dangerous because of your speed," Jace said quietly as he watched him, eyes settling on his shoulders. "Tall, dark, handsome stranger."

Rook smiled at the description. If it had been someone else, he would have teased him for it...but he sensed he was already dancing on the edge of flirtation that Jace could cope with. "They should never know it's coming until they're on the floor...."

"Dead," he said, and then looked at Rook and there was a hint of something there. A small pull at the corner of his lips, blue eyes that seemed a little brighter. "Or wishing they were."

"I couldn't possibly confirm or deny any such speculation," Rook whispered to him with a small, wry smile.

"It's not a speculation as much as a fact," he said as he met his eyes and held them briefly, before he looked down. "I should go. Take a sonic shower. Change clothes. I just...I wanted to check you were okay."

"Aren't you just a darling..." Rook grinned, leaning in to lift his hand. He kissed the back of it, softly and lightly, allowing the hand to rest on his own rather than gripping it. "But what about you? Are you okay?" he asked, because he seemed more grounded now.

Jace blinked, at the kiss, a shiver working its way through him. He frowned for a moment before he let out a breath. "No damage," he said and met his eyes. "A few scrapes but those will heal fine. Squad made it, the Colonel. "

"Then it sounds like you've earned a shower and nap," Rook chuckled as he straightened up. "Come back when you've had some sleep and I'll feed you."

Jace watched him for a moment before he considered it. "Can't tell you when I will be back," he finally said. "A lot to...do. As soon as there is time, if it is quiet...I'll come."

"I'll be here," Rook replied, quirking an eyebrow to him with a small smile as he started to tidy the bar.

Jace watched him for a moment before he pushed away from the bar, took his phaser rifle and turned, heading out at the same pace he had walked in...but there was something in his shoulders that had eased, become less animal and more settled soldier once more.

---

Rook
Proprietor of The Green Kiss
USS Guinevere

Sergeant Jace Morven
Platoon Sergeant, Alpha Squad
Federation Ground Forces Detachment
USS Guinevere

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