Snippet #1890983

Jaxon Belail

A wave washed over him as the ship moved from slipstream into present speed, a feeling he had long since gotten used to. Jaxon had been on and off ships for as long as he could remember. He’d been on the current ship for the last four years, entering in to the crew as an adjutant officer and inspection officer on behalf of his father. Before that point, he’d been on the hallow frame of the great ship that he was currently residing in. Dear old dad was the designer of the Informal ships, after all.

Steady, confident strides carried the man down the walkway from his personal quarters to the mess hall. A great platter with a silver cover was carried in his hands as he whistled to himself. Already the scent of something absolutely delicious had reached him from the kitchens. Strong spices and exotic flavours let Jax know that both the women were on duty that day, and he was eager to taste whatever was cooking for the day. He was equally eager to reveal his surprise.

Allan exited the mess. Jax nodded his head in greeting, but said nothing, as he walked by and turned the corner. At any given time he was a guy that would stop for pleasantries and idle chitchat, but he had something on his mind and the monk seemed to have his own agenda. One hand raised in greeting as he stepped food into the kitchen. “Good day ladies, Din.” He said, flashing winning smile and sliding his covered plate on to an empty space on the counter. Jax covertly grabbed a spoon.

“Smells good in here, and I’m not just talking about the gumbo.” He grinned his Cheshire smile, winking towards Illa and her metal snake. Jaxon tilted his head, giving Lucia a quick peck on the cheek to disguise his stolen taste, his spoon dipping in to the stew and out. The sample was brought to his mouth, eyes closing in genuine delight as he savored it. “Mmm, that is seriously good.”

He quickly raised his hands, palms out in surrender as he dropped the spoon. It was a gesture to show he’d back off before either of them got on his case about trying the food before it was done, or something to that effect. If you asked him, though, it tasted ready for consumption. Still, that wasn’t the point of his visit. The Prince of the Informal Empire stepped around the petite cook and to the shining silver he’d brought in. “Don’t worry ladies, I’ll be out of you way in a second. I just thought I’d bring you a little something.”

Hands whipped off the cover of the dish he’d brought in. A sickly sweet and sticky tower of croquembouche, an old-style French pastry from the times before man had taken to the stars. Jaxon grabbed a piece of the cream-filled profiteroles and popped it in his mouth, enjoying the pleasant crunch of the caramel threads. A groan of enjoyment could be heard from him before he swallowed, smiled, and motioned for them to dig in. Clearly the dessert was recently made, and since they hadn’t docked in awhile, Jax must have been up all night creating the masterpiece.