Chess

Posted on Thu 27th Oct, 2022 @ 11:18pm by Captain Andrus Grax & Commander Mikaela Locke

942 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: The Hunted
Location: Deck 27 - Captain Grax's Quarters
Timeline: MD 04: 2130 hours

"Check."

Mikaela Locke switched out the black bishop for the white knight that she had picked up from one of the moveable attack boards.

"So, explain to me again why you haven't told Paul this?" Andrus Grax replied, sliding the black king one square to the left to avoid the threat from the knight.

"I don't know," Mikaela answered ponderously, "I'm just not ready." She sat back on the sofa and took a sip from the glass of red wine that was on the table in front of her, next to the chess board.

Locke and Grax had been playing for almost an hour, however, the game hadn't progressed at a particularly fast rate. Primarily this was because Mikaela had taken an age between every move, during which she had regaled the intel. chief with all of her concerns and fears, following her appointment with Doctor Addams, a couple of days prior. Grax, to his credit, had mostly sat and listened. They had drunk a sizeable amount of wine between them, and both were quietly praying (separately, and to two very distinct sets of gods) that there would be no emergencies that required either of them to return to duty until the morning: Both had agreed that synthehol just hadn't seemed appropriate for the occasion and, furthermore, they had also sworn that neither would tell on the other should a situation result in the morning, that might lead to awkward questions being asked.

"If I were a betting man," Grax continued, as non-ironically as he could, given that, in the past, he had been very much a betting man, "I would guess that you're not telling him because you're worried that he'll somehow think less of you if you're not some kind of 'extraordinary' version of yourself. As if the only thing that might make you attractive is your 'gift'."

"Check," Locke replied, without hesitation, as she moved the white knight again. "You could be a counsellor with that kind of insight... Or was it just the telepathy working on a defenceless, slightly drunk girl?"

"Wow," Grax replied with mock indignation. "Just..." He paused looking for the right word, but nothing came to mind. "Wow..." he finally repeated. He sat back in his chair and regarded Mikaela carefully for a moment. "Okay," he said, as if finally agreeing to play this new game she had started, alongside the ongoing chess match. "One, I'm empathic not telepathic. Two, You know that. Three, it doesn't take a telepath, or indeed an empath, to know that you're a woman with an incredible set of gifts and skills, but somehow refuses to believe that you might just have something to offer the universe outside of your memory. Yes, it's a huge asset to you and to your work, but you are so much more than that. Your memory may have given you certain advantages, but that's not the only reason you are where you are or, indeed, who you are. You're wise, compassionate, courageous, kind, loyal, determined... Those are all qualities that have nothing to do with how much you can or can't remember." He left a short pause before continuing, allowing Mikaela space to take in his words. "Four," he eventually continued, slowly, "you're not as drunk as you would like me to believe right now, which, I assume is mostly because..." He reached out his hand and picked up the black queen, and in one swift motion exchanged it for the knight she had moved the turn previous. "Five," he continued, "Checkmate."

Mikaela didn't even bother to look at the board. She'd seen her mistake the moment she'd taken her hand off the knight. Instead she looked at Grax, grateful for his wisdom and slightly annoyed at his uncanny ability to know her better than she knew herself.

"I hate you," she eventually said, picking up her wine and taking another gulp.

"No, you don't," Grax replied, taking a sip from his own glass.

"No, I don't," Locke answered with a smile. "Although, I do hate the fact that you're right all the time."

"It's annoying, isn't it?" Grax replied, with just enough of a hint of sarcasm. "All I'm saying, M, is that if Paul isn't going to look at you the same way if he knows about this, then he's not the right one." He took another sip of wine. "It's that simple."

Mikaela took a small inhale, coupled with a half smile, as she acknowledged that Grax was right... again. "Urgh," she said, tilting her head back briefly, "He's going to try and 'counsel' me, isn't he?"

"Maybe..." Grax replied, "Or he might just be self-aware enough to realise the that might not be the best approach and he'll just be there for you."

"Do you ever get tired of being right?" Mikaela asked.

"No," he replied, his expression completely deadpan.

They sat in silence for a few moments.

"Reset the board," Mikaela eventually said, picked her glass up in one hand and waving the other indiscriminately in the general direction of the chess game. She took a swig and replaced her glass. "I believe I'm ahead, twenty-seven to twenty-four."

"Memory's not that bad, I see," Grax observed wryly as the replaced the chess pieces on the board in their starting configuration.

"I hate you," Mikaela replied, a broad grin on her face.

"No, you don't," Grax countered once again, putting the last pieces in place.

"No, I don't," Mikaela sighed. She took another sip of wine, replaced the glass on the table and sat forward in concentration. "Right," she said. And she pushed a white pawn forward across the board.

 

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