The afternoon sun had risen higher in the sky, burning off the last of the morning haze as the two-seater hovercruiser hummed softly along the elevated cliffside road. Jack had taken the controls—it wasn’t regulation flying, but it was close enough. Gwyn sat beside him, her loose cream-colored blouse fluttering in the breeze, sunglasses back on and a quiet smile resting on her lips as the view unfolded before them.

They passed terraced vineyards, tall tropical palms, and flocks of bright, feathered creatures nesting in the ridgelines. The island’s interior was a vivid blend of greens and golds, with flowering trees breaking up the lush terrain. In the distance, the ocean stretched endlessly beneath them, the light dancing off it in waves of silver and sapphire.

“I’ve been to maybe a dozen resort worlds,” Gwyn said, “and none of them felt like this. Risa always sounded cliché in the travel vids. But this… this is something else.”

Jack glanced sideways at her, one hand still lightly on the controls. “Sometimes cliché just means popular for a reason.”

They reached a trailhead near the summit, where the land leveled out into a wide cliffside plateau covered in low grass and jagged volcanic rock. The platform overlooked a massive drop into the rolling ocean far below. There were no other tourists in sight. Just wind, birds, and the vastness of it all.

They stepped out, Jack grabbing a lightweight pack with water and a compact blanket, slinging it over his shoulder. “Come on,” he said, nodding toward the trail. “Locals say there’s a spot up ahead called the Whispering Ledge. You can hear the surf echoing off the cliff wall a hundred meters below.”

They walked side by side, boots crunching softly on the gravel path, occasionally pointing out native flowers or strange, twisting branches that grew horizontally into the wind. After about twenty minutes, the trail widened again—flattening into a natural balcony surrounded by wildflowers and jagged black stone. Jack laid out the blanket without a word, and they both sat down with the kind of ease that comes when silence is no longer uncomfortable.

Gwyn leaned back on her elbows, gazing out at the sea.

“Did you ever think you’d be here?” she asked. “I mean… not just on Risa. But with someone. Like this.”

Jack let the question sit for a moment before answering.

“I don’t think I let myself imagine it. Not seriously. Starfleet makes it easy to forget you’re a person first. Every connection I had back home either faded or broke. Command doesn’t come with room for… this.”

Gwyn nodded slowly, not speaking for a long moment.

“I tried dating once during my Vega-9 rotation,” she said finally. “He was brilliant. Biochemical specialist. But he couldn’t understand why I had to jump into a medical pod at 3AM for a colony three lightyears away. And I couldn’t understand why he didn’t.”

Jack glanced at her, studying the lines of her face in the sunlight.

“Maybe it’s about finding someone who does understand,” he said. “Someone who doesn’t flinch at the late calls or the nightmares.”

She looked at him, her green eyes luminous against the sky. “Someone who’s already fought those battles.”

They were quiet again, the sea wind whipping through their hair as a distant gull cried out below.

After a while, Gwyn leaned her head gently against Jack’s shoulder. He adjusted slightly, allowing her to rest there, the warmth of her presence grounding him more than he expected. He could feel her heartbeat through the softness of her wrap. Not rushed. Not guarded.

Just there.

“I could get used to this,” she said softly.

Jack chuckled. “I don’t think Starfleet would approve.”

She grinned. “Then it’s a good thing we’re off-duty.”

They stayed like that for a long time, watching the sun arc slowly toward the horizon. As it descended, the sky burst into a palette of gold, crimson, and purple. Below them, the sea mirrored the color, and the air cooled just enough to make them draw closer together.

Eventually, Gwyn sat up and turned to face him directly.

“I know this doesn’t come with guarantees,” she said, voice quiet. “When we leave, you’ll go back to your ship, and I’ll go back to mine—metaphorically. But I don’t want to pretend this didn’t happen. I want to keep in touch. I want to see where this could go.”

Jack met her gaze without hesitation. “So do I.”

He reached into his pack and pulled out a compact padd. With a few quick taps, he sent his personal contact file over to her device.

Gwyn looked down at her own padd as it blinked with the incoming file. “I guess it’s official now.”

Jack leaned in, brushing a kiss against her temple. “As official as it gets for two people pretending not to be in uniform.”

They both laughed, the tension dissolving into something easier—something hopeful.

Later That Evening

They returned to the resort under starlight, the hovercruiser gliding smoothly along the descending route. Lights from the villas flickered on below, painting the hillsides like constellations reversed on the land.

As they walked back to their respective rooms, Gwyn stopped outside her door and turned to face him.

“Come in for a drink?” she asked, tilting her head.

Jack didn’t respond right away. He just looked at her—really looked—then gave a quiet nod.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’d like that.”