Days of Wine & Roses (Part 2)

Posted on 06 Sep 2014 @ 10:21pm by Petty Officer 3rd Class Ellsworth Hudson & Lieutenant JG Grayson Jones
Edited on on 07 Sep 2014 @ 5:30am

5,543 words; about a 28 minute read

Mission: Episode 06 - Legend of Souls
Location: USS Galileo - Deck 4, Room 04-0904
Timeline: MD07: 2040 hrs

Previously, in "Days of Wine & Roses (Part 1)"...

"So... I can go fetch that bottle and meet you at your quarters?"

"Sounds like a plan to me!" Grayson replied excitedly. "Since you have read my file, I take it you know where my quarters are? Will give me time to freshen up a little." He winked.

"Naturally," Ellsworth said, almost tripping over himself as he took a step back. He'd have to focus on not hyperventilating on the way to fetch the wine...

And now, the conclusion....

[ON]

Somehow, Ellsworth had managed an entire wardrobe change by the time he showed up at Grayson's quarters: a dark shirt with a bizarre lapel that crossed over and buttoned near the shoulder, giving it an almost military-like appearance; slacks that were entirely too tight; and boots that came up partially over his calves. He cradled the cold bottle of Risian wine in his hands and danced a bit impatiently in front of the door after ringing the chime, working out some nervous energy. He'd had only the briefest moment of guilt on the walk over, worrying about letting Grayson sleep, but that went away almost immediately after recalling the shape of the other man's leg and the feel of it in his hands. By the time the door was answered, he had a silly sort of grin on his face.

On the other hand, Grayson was still rushing to get ready as the door went. He had on his jet black stone wash jeans and not much else as he called for his guest to come in. Hair clung to his face, still dripping wet, the towel around his neck catching many of the stray beads of water running down him, but not all. "Sorry. I got a little too comfortable in the shower. Give me a few moments and I will be ready. Please, take a seat." Running into his bedroom and feeling a little sensitive about his exposed Trill spots, Grayson threw on his usual 'not sure if date or casual thing' dark grey polo shirt with yellow accented lining around the collar and sleeves. Well, the little sleeve that was there as this particular one tended to show off a bit more of his arms than usual.

Ellsworth felt a little emboldened by the display and more than a little pleased with the progress since he'd first entered Engineering; what had started off looking like a dead-end was now sauntering around spotted and shirtless and wet. He sat the wine bottle down on a nearby table and moved to the replicator, calling out toward the bedroom, "I'll replicate a couple of glasses."

The replicator produced them in due course and Ellsworth took them by the stem, enjoying that he could actually walk to the couch. And the fact that there was a couch. If they were in his quarters, he'd have slammed into the bulkhead several times by now. He flopped down into the couch, popped the cork and poured two glasses without really asking about proportion - he was something of a light-weight, so he went on the conservative side.

While Grayson was still getting ready, Ellsworth fussed with his own clothing. He unbuttoned the lapel once but he was bare-chested underneath, and that just seemed gaudy so he buttoned it back up and went for mussing up his clothing as much as possible. He always had a tendency toward formal clothing but he didn't want to stand out too much against Grayson's casual choice, especially if they were really just having a glass of wine and chatting.

Coming out of his side of the bedroom, Grayson felt more comfortable in his figure hugging outfit. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Ellsworth trying to mess with his clothing and thought it quite adorable. As usual, most of his shirt buttons were undone. He smiled and strode over to the couch that would be the seating place for them...for now and lowered himself down.

"So far my room mate seems to be out." Grayson said, hoping it would last some time. "If he comes in and we want to chat still, we could just head into my room and continue there." There was something almost sultry in his suggestion and voice. Grayson was in the mood to play. Sipping his rather limited glass, the conversation started. "Tell me about you then, how did you get to be a quartermaster? How is life on the ship for you?" All the while remembering to top up his own glass a little more on the next pour.

Ellsworth glanced over the rim of his glass toward the bedroom and smiled, enjoying the feeling of his lips expanding along the rim of the container. He set the glass down and shifted on the couch, kicking his boots off and bringing his feet up. He leaned forward and rested his chin on his knee to watch Grayson. Mostly he was stalling, trying to think of something interesting to say about himself without revealing the (somewhat) ugly truth, but he was also certainly enjoying the view.

"Well," he began, never breaking eye contact, "Apparently I showed some aptitude for organizing things. I don't think they checked my bunk during boot camp before saying that, though." He grinned, a little lopsided. "I lived a while on Risa and believe it or not that grows kinda monotonous, so I joined Starfleet looking for some...adventure." He smiled shyly, suggestively, and broke eye contact to pour himself a more generous serving of the wine. He took a long sip from the glass then watched the liquid swirl around as he rotated the stem between two fingers. "Life on the ships is..." The moment of silence was punctuated by another drink, as if he was looking for some liquid courage to say it. "Lonely."

"I know that all do well." Grayson practically finished off his drink as he looked sullenly to the bottom of the glass. Being, what he called, popular with the boys...he was more of what he considered a tissue. One use and then disposed of. It was never something he particularly wanted, but initially what people wanted of him. He had come to think of this as normal, how things went until that one person came along to make you feel special and wanted. So far, he was yet to feel that, his prior liaisons had left him for of an empty shell, much like the glass in his hand. Finishing the drink, Grayson filled his own glass again, wondering what the sensation would be like, to feel full and wanted.

Even at the best of times Ellsworth had a poor grasp on his telepathy, but alcohol did much to considerably loosen that grip. He thought his heart would burst for Grayson; he knew all too well the feeling of being dispensable, although the morality (or lack thereof) of the current situation didn't seem to really cross his mind. Regardless, he knew he had to steer the conversation elsewhere before they both turned completely sullen.

"You lived the life I always dreamed about having," Ellsworth said, slouching more into the couch and leaning toward Grayson. His head leaned back against the cushion and he closed his eyes. "Son of an ambassador, zooming all over the Federation, seeing so many different people and worlds, just like a holonovel..." He opened his eyes and turned his head to the side lazily, smiling at Grayson. He reached out for the other man and made contact with his neck, gently tracing along a row of his subdued spots. "And so smart. Your Academy record was really stellar, I wish I'd made grades like that." He grinned and blushed hard, looking a little sheepish as he recalled Grayson's earlier thoughts about someone reading his personnel file. But he kept the nerve to continue drawing along the spots, recalling their pattern from memory. "Sorry... I have to read everyone's file to process their paperwork. I hope it's not too personal."

Grayson melted into the touch, it was warm, caring, the kind of thing he was missing. There was no alterer motive here from what he could tell, just someone who wanted to spend some time with him. The compliments made him blush though, "It was more pain that what you think. Never spending too long in a place to get to know someone, not having real friends, being forced to play with dignitaries bratty, spoiled children. It wasn't really until the academy that things settled down and I began to make real friends and connections. I kind of made up for lost time there." His mind flashed back to some of his campus renowned parties, where he would have a guy on each arm, friends round about blowing off steam after a particularly difficult test, month, week, day, sometimes in between classes as well. "I sometimes wonder how I passed at all with all the social activities I had planned." Sighing, another (large) sip of his drink was gone, the effects of it beginning to give his body a warmth, his thoughts becoming fuzzy.

"I on the other hand, have not had much time to read files past those in Engineering. You will need to tell me a bit about you, so I feel caught up and things are equal." Grayson stretched out a hand to rest it closer to Ellsworth, just grazing his knee.

Ellsworth didn't like to be cagey, but it came almost like a reflex when discussing his past. Nobody wanted to hear the "woe is me" war orphan story, did they? But some part of him knew it always elicited sympathy from others; ordinarily he hated the way people looked at him afterward, but in some circumstances he enjoyed the attention it garnered. It inspired in some people a desire to ease his suffering in any way they could, much the same way he felt toward Grayson after hearing - feeling - about his early years.

To delay the inevitable, Ellsworth reached out and poured more of the wine into their glasses, nearly spilling liquid over the brim. It was too much, too fast, too soon, but who cared? He sipped his own down to a more appropriate level and let go of the last little bit of inhibition.

"When I was four the Dominion invaded Betazed, and my parents died in the initial clashes. I don't really remember what happened. I just remember being alone in the street. Most of my other relatives were killed, too. I think Betazed was meant to be a psychological operation as much as for capturing a strategic system; they were really merciless... Anyway, I spent my childhood in the internment camps and then the state-sponsored foster system after Liberation. It's not a unique situation," he rushed to say, almost spilling his wine as he reached a hand out toward Grayson to ward off any immediate outpouring of sympathy. "That happened to plenty of us. I couldn't stand being on Betazed - I didn't fit in. I never learned to control my abilities, I was rebellious, I rejected authority and interference. I thought I wanted to be a free spirit. So I went to Risa, home of free spirits. I, uh, worked there...for awhile." His eyes darted away, tellingly. "And then I joined Starfleet, which was really hard. I don't know what it is, but you people have a real obsession with examinations and procedures and rules and policies." He closed his eyes and brought his hands to his temples. "It drove me mad. I mean, it really drove me mad. But I was committed. I was even celibate, can you imagine? Like some Vulcan monk. But I made it."

He smiled to himself, looking more than a little prideful. In truth it had been extremely difficult for him. His formal education was...pathetic, really. So Starfleet training had come as a shock, but he'd been dedicated to continuing as a self-styled adventurer and somehow made it. Barely. He cut his eyes to look at Grayson and suddenly felt silly, though. Being proud for a handful of months in an enlisted program for operations - arguably one of the easier disciplines - seemed ridiculous in the face of an officer's training in engineering of all things. He felt like he was about to cry from embarrassment or memories of his childhood or something. Too much wine, he thought, ascertaining the real source of his overactive emotions.

"I bet you were really popular," Ellsworth grinned, throwing all the pent up emotional energy into admiring Grayson. He probably had the most ridiculous fawning look on his face, but he didn't care. He really was something to admire, and at least it got his mind off all the other stuff.

Empathising with his situation, Grayson just wanted to give him a hug. "If it helps in anyway, I know where you are coming from. I had a few friends at the Academy who were in the same position." Grayson had spent many a night after his parties with these friends when they had needed him, this would be one of the very few reasons he would deny himself the company of his arm candy for that night. It was rough, he had seen first hand what it could do to people. Not wanting to take that train of the conversation further, he intentionally left out the section of his life that he had spent there. It was not pleasant, even from his younger self's eyes.

Smiling, he continued, "A little. You quickly figure out who wants to be a real friend instead of wanting to get to know you because of your father's name and position. Damn social climbers, all of them." A forced grin came across his face, many a lost potential love fell into that position as well. "The ones I did have that were true and close, were few. I liked it that way though. We could tease and torment each other the way only best friends could." Thinking of them fondly, Grayson remembered how much he missed them and made a point to call them at some point in the immediate future, the ones that were still living anyway. Those that were not, he would head to their graves and do his usual, a small bunch of flowers, a shot for himself and one for them, which he would pour onto the ground for them in an attempt to relive the good times with them. Trying not to let a tear roll down his eye, he brought himself back into the room remembering this was not a therapy session.

Between Grayson's thoughts and his own, Ellsworth felt like he was teetering on the edge of becoming morbid. He reached for his wine glass, almost knocked it over, but managed to get a good enough grip to make it to his lips. He downed the remainder of the golden liquid like a shot, seeking some catharsis in the dregs. The fluted glass wobbled dangerously when he absentmindedly returned it to the table, preferring to keep his eyes on Grayson than in assisting his coordination.

"You're a softy," Ellsworth said accusingly, though his eyes were wide and soft in what was obvious appreciation of that. He reached out toward Grayson and grabbed at the nearest bicep, sliding his hand up until the fingertips disappeared beneath the high sleeve. He squeezed slightly, appraising the muscle, and lifted his eyebrows in mock surprise. He made some throaty sound of appreciation and fell a little closer to his shipmate on the couch. "A strong softy. Must be all that hard work in engineering, working up a sweat swinging those hyperspanners." His grin was lopsided and teasing.

The flirting was becoming very enjoyable for Grayson. "More the nightly dose of the gym."

"I never had any friends," Ellsworth blurted, as if only suddenly processing what Grayson had said moments ago. He'd had enough wine that he was feeling good, warm and comfortable. Grayson seemed safe, so all control of his already scattered mind stared to slip - everything was likely to just come spilling out now and not necessarily make any sense. He could have veered into self-loathing about the circumstances of his lonely life but instead made a turn that surprised even himself. "But that's okay, I can make new friends and new adventures here. Right? A new life. Again. Whatever. You have beautiful eyes...and a good heart. Sometimes it's not so bad being a Betazoid. You can see people. Or hear them? I don't know, it's hard to describe... I get bad at flirting when I drink too much, sorry."

He gave a knowing smile and slipped his hand out from under Grayson's sleeve, replacing it on the other man's chest over his heart. He could feel it beating within, quickened from the wine and - he hoped - the company. He grabbed a handful of his shirt and used it for leverage to slide himself closer on the couch, close enough for their legs to be touching.

Grayson leaned in a little more, brushed his hand by Ellsworth's cheek, sliding it down his jaw line and letting it rest and caress his chin. "Well, I think after tonight you can count me as one." He put his usual play into action, moving his head in around 90% of the way, letting Ellsworth, if he wanted, to do the rest of the work. It was his usual (and highly successful) tactic that he hoped would not be rejected now. Liquid courage may have quickened when he did this in the evening, but the mood needed cheering up. His hand began to move up Ellsworth's knee, very softly and allowed it to rest on the tip of his thigh.

Ellsworth grinned and gave a quiet, throaty laugh before closing the distance; it was a playful move, one that required him to make the final commitment, and he liked it. He brought his hand sliding up along Grayson's chest until it rested over the spots on his neck. He'd seen plenty of Trills before but never up close, so there was something strangely alluring about them, something erotic about how they passed hidden all the way down his body.

Ellsworth tilted his head slightly to the side and brought their lips together again, far more urgent and insistent this time, while tightening his grip against Grayson's neck. The feeling of a hand on his thigh was quickening his pulse from the promise of things to come, so he moved his leg forward beneath the hand by way of invitation.

"Your roommate," came the breathy half-question/half-statement. Ellsworth couldn't have cared less, really, but he didn't want to cause complications for Grayson down the line if his roommate ended up being one of the stiff prudes from security or the like. Despite the alcohol and the urgency of the moment, he was happy he'd managed to retain at least some capability for clear thinking.

Without a word Grayson pulled himself up from the seating area, grabbed his drink, what was left of the bottle and took Ellsworth by the hand pulling him up to stand beside him. He began to walk slowly towards his room, keeping his guest in tow. "If he does come in, we won't need to worry in here."

Ellsworth concentrated on placing one foot in front of the other; tripping at this point would be embarrassing enough to make him want to melt into the deck plating. He found that he couldn't stop grinning - it had been a long time since someone had led him into the bedroom. He glanced down at their hands then moved his eyes up Grayson's arms, admiring his physique; the gym and engineering had done him well. Ellsworth did paperwork and mostly told other people where to move things, which seemed reflected in the difference in the size and strength of their hands. Of course what he lacked in size, he made up for with enthusiasm...

"Good," he said, distractedly looking around the bedroom to satisfy his curiosity while still trying to keep his attention focused on the object of his affection. By the time they'd fully crossed the threshold and Grayson had turned around, Ellsworth was already pressed against him and running his hands up and under the polo shirt. He passed his hands across Grayson's abdomen then around his sides, finally resting on his lower back and pulling the taller man even closer.

He looked up at him, dark eyes wide with desire, and shifted his body. One of his legs passed between Grayson's in a half-forward step and his thigh pressed comfortably against him while he leaned up and kissed with parted lips; the kiss was about as direct as his personality, lacking all the playfulness and subtlety of Grayson's earlier move.

Ellsworth had moved himself into the perfect position. With a flex of his hip Grayson was able to pull them both down onto the bed, landing on his back, Ellsworth resting on top of him. All the while, he did not break contact with the kiss.

Grayson's hands began to slide down Ellsworth's sides, pulling him in closer, deeper, for a more passionate kiss. The alcohol had truly clouded his head by now. Everything was a blur, like he was detaching his mind from his body allowing himself to be enveloped by the sensations coursing over his body. This encounter was different than what he was used to, either there was a genuine want for him or a distance. In his diminished state, Grayson was utterly confused as to the intentions of his unintentional date. He also, didn't care.

Ellsworth broke the kiss and straightened up for a moment, taking extra care in just how he moved his hips against Grayson when he did so. He settled comfortably in against the other man, straddling him, and looked down as if taking a survey. Despite their solid inky color, his dark eyes still seemed lively and fiery and desirous, aided in part by a slightly lecherous smile. He could sense some level of uncertainty about their encounter; briefly, he thought of his evening months ago with the Andorian, Keval, and the ensuing mess that had caused. But it seemed like this was different, and it was fairly obvious neither one of them was going to stop. If something needed sorting, Ellsworth figured, they could sort it in the morning.

He used his hands to teasingly tug at Grayson's waistband before easing his hands under the shirt, sliding his hands to the side toward the spotted pattern. He shifted his body so that as he eased down, hands running along the spots and pushing the shirt upward, his hips shifted back suggestively against him. The momentum of his falling body pushed the shirt over the engineer's head, and Ellsworth caught sight of the hollowed out star over Grayson's heart. He stayed close, hands planted on either side, and lifted an eyebrow while gesturing with his chin toward it.

"That's cute."

"Thanks." Grayson replied, allowing himself to ease out of the moment. "Painful, in more ways that one." Letting his grip break of Ellsworth's inviting physique, his own body settled into the bed as his arms came up to caress the back of his head. In this moment, being the drink or feeling wanted again, Grayson was happy. He couldn't help but smile. It was a goofy smile, contented, mixed with slight inebriation. The brief silence between the two was enough to provide a moment of calm in what had been his mind the past few days.

Ellsworth pushed himself up again and rested his right hand against Grayson's bare chest, moving gently over the star and wondering about the pain. Tattoos had always been out of the question for him; he couldn't bear the thought of the pain and he'd never be able to decide what to get. But he liked this one, its design and positioning. It seemed to fit the guy below with the goofy smile plastered across his face.

The smile made Ellsworth grin in return. He'd forgotten the sort of heady feeling that came with pleasing others, especially when he'd had enough liquor to push his telepathy into an intuitive place. Ordinarily he wasn't very good at controlling it but at the moment it was in free-form, allowing him to feel and experience things on a different level. His own happiness, passion and desire mixed freely with Grayson's, producing an intensity that few non-telepaths would ever experience.

The younger, smaller Betazoid reached up and worked at the buttons on his own shirt, which was an unnecessarily complicated affair, but kept his eyes locked on Grayson's. Eventually he managed to unclasp everything and shucked it off, tossing it carelessly aside like he hadn't spent an agonizing fifteen minutes trying to make it look perfect before stepping foot into the ensign's quarters.

He eased himself down against Grayson, sliding his hands under the other's arms until he was propped up on his elbows. The feeling of their bare torso's pressed together, the sort of physical intimacy he'd been missing, brought a smile to his lips. Leaning heavily on his right elbow and using the power of his thighs to stay in place above Grayson, he let his left hand start tracing down the other's side, lazily following the pattern of spots to the waistband of his pants.

Grayson shuddered with excitement, no one had run over his spots quite like that before, it was slow, sensual...arousing. This is what he lived on, giving others control over him in these intimate moments. Ellsworth didn't yet fully realise this, Grayson thought, but he was now putty to be moulded. His own hands began to wander, his right taking Ellsworth's into his own, just above his waistband: his left making its way down his back, making small circles with his finger tips before coming to rest on the small of his partner's back. With every thought in his head, Grayson tried to signal out how much he was enjoying this, how much more he wanted.

Ellsworth closed his eyes and let out a soft moan as the hand went down his back, as much a response to the physical touch as to the thoughts running through Grayson's head. Either he'd been with a telepath before or he was really letting himself go, Ellsworth thought, as the desire of their minds mixed to fan the flames. Any reluctance, any thoughts of letting Grayson rest and get some sleep, any remote desire to keep their relationship strictly platonic had officially and completely blown right out the airlock.

Despite how tight they were, he managed to wedge his hand partially below the waistline of Grayson's pants. He dragged his fingertips back and forth across his hip just below the fabric, almost teasingly. His right hand moved beyond Grayson's shoulder and into his hair, which was growing messier by the minute. As Ellsworth leaned down to kiss him, parting their lips with his tongue, his hand grabbed urgently at the hair and his fingernails dug gently into his scalp.

The pain was pleasurable, Grayson let out a rather audible moan. He had been longing for a night like this for so long. It felt like pure fire was running through his veins, surging with every heartbeat, every further touch. Each passing moment made him cry out for more, for the teasing to just stop. Ellsworth had to take him, bend him to his will.

The kissing ended abruptly as Ellsworth moved slowly to sit up, as if he'd been waiting for just such thoughts to pass through Grayson's mind. He brought his hands to either side of his partner's face, admiring it within that frame, then flashed a wicked grin as they started to slide down his chest and abdomen; red trails were left in their wake as his nails scratched superficially along Grayson's skin, moving ever lower.

If there was one thing he knew how to do, one thing he'd learned all that time on Risa, it was how to bend someone to his will....

=-=-=-=-=

Grayson waited until Ellsworth was sleeping, he was conflicted. While he enjoyed the time spent together, he could not help but feel guilty. Head still fuzzy, he had the sudden need to clear it. Leaning into Ellsworth, hoping not to wake him fully, he whispered, "I will be back in around 15. Not feeling my best. Please, stay here. Stay comfy. Hope to see you here when I get back."

Ellsworth waited until he was gone to roll over and stretch out in the bed. He was a light sleeper, but he didn't want Grayson to feel guilty about waking him. He took a moment just to enjoy the sheer pleasure of the size of the bed and the sheets against his naked skin. He turned his head on the pillow to stare at the doorway for a moment while he waited for focus to come; he'd been drawn out of a deep slumber and still didn't have a good hold on his mind. He felt guilt, but he wasn't sure if it was his own or Grayson's. He stared at the empty space for several long moments, trying to sort through the emotion.

Eventually, he decided it must have been Grayson. And he probably felt guilty for good reason - they'd only just met in engineering. There wasn't much of the emotional connection that so many species wanted to associate with intercourse. Surprisingly, Ellsworth didn't feel the least bit guilty. A few months ago he probably would have been a wreck, feeling like he'd taken advantage of Grayson, but he was proud to say that he'd learned a lot about himself since then. And K'os helped a lot, too. Made him more comfortable with himself, with who he actually was rather than who he was always trying to be, and gave him the freedom to stop denying his cultural identity.

After his gym visit, being called to Engineering and being a little later than planned, Grayson returned to his bedroom. He smiled when he saw Ellsworth there and any insecurities he had began to melt away. Stripping off, again, he crawled into bed and hope to be able to cuddle back in. There was something nice about this simple level of intimacy, something inviting about Ellsworth, his smile, his face...his figure. It might have all just been in his head, assumed it was, but Grayson felt a connection. He felt a little bit wanted for more than just the night. Those feelings though, were quickly squashed and pushed into a little box in his head, he wasn't ready to open up again, let himself be hurt.

"I was getting cold," Ellsworth said plaintively, shifting in the bed until he was stretched out against Grayson. He snuggled into the crook of his arm and stretched his head out until it was resting on Grayson's chest where he could comfortably look him in the eyes. He was smiling, trying to convey that it was far more about missing him than being cold. An arm slid up through the sheets and stretched out to drape across Grayson's chest, and Ellsworth moved his fingers soothingly over the skin. "Do you feel better?"

His voice sounded more hopeful than he would have liked to betray, but it was too late for that now. As Grayson's absence stretched on, Ellsworth had struggled with increasing feelings of guilt, which had proved to be not only depressing but also annoying. He thought he'd overcome all of that, but apparently it had just been lurking under the surface. If Grayson felt guilty, didn't that mean he should feel guilty, too? He'd almost convinced himself that he'd taken advantage of another kind-hearted man on the same damn ship, that it was another Keval-in-San-Francisco situation.

Grayson kissed Ellsworth's forehead. "Yeah," he replied as he got cuddled in again. Feeling more at peace he was able to pull in closer, allowing their bodies to become close again, practically inviting a repeat performance.

The corner of Ellsworth's mouth pulled into a smirk as their forms fit perfectly together, but his body didn't respond like it might ordinarily have. He was enjoying the affection in their closeness far too much, the peck on the forehead, the smiles, the approximation to some idealized version of domestic bliss without all the entangling commitments. For a few alarming moments he even forgot that K'os was asleep somewhere on the ship, too.

"Good," he said quietly, nuzzling against Grayson's chest and closing his eyes. His own feelings of guilt began to dissipate and the heaviness of sleep took hold once again. When it came, his voice was more like a mumbled, sleepy and barely coherent. "I'll make you a traditional Risan breakfast in the morning..."

[ OFF ]

PO3 Ellsworth Hudson
Quartermaster
USS Galileo

&

Ensign Grayson Jones
ACEO
USS Galileo

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