— Starbase 86, Foundations a Trill Restaurant —

Murf speared a leaf of her salad. She did not know that many trills, but had never considered them vegetarians, so it made no sense that the entire restaurant was vegan. Perhaps, like humans, there were some Trill vegans and obviously having a belly worm might make you think of non-humanoid meat sources differently. She took a bite of the salad wishing it would become a steak in her mouth. It did not.

She did not bother to feign enthusiasm.

“You’re not liking it,” observed her date Doctor Travis McCleod, the new Academy Instructor who had just that day joined the USS Selene to oversee the influx of students they were about to receive.

Murf shrugged, “I’m more a meat and potatoes kind of gal. Arby’s we have the meats.”

McCleod looked at her blankly, “What?”

The Lanthanite frowned, most humans did not remember the important cultural achievements of their early days, such as the Golden Age of advertising. Once scarcity had been dealt with most humans stopped with the need to advertise the way that they had been. If they hadn’t they would be installing a giant Goodyear banner on the hull of the Selene right now to sell tires.

Not that tires were in use much these days, though there were still a few ground only vehicles that used them.

“Nothing, just something from Earth’s past,” Murf said.

“When did you live on Earth?” McCleod asked, taking a bite of his salad. He was clearly more comfortable with the food, a trait that he had picked up during his internship on Trill as a medical student.

“Middle age, mine and Earth’s. I landed just after all that nonsense with Joan of Arc and then stuck around until you invented warp flight. I’ve learned once Vulcans show up the party is over,” Murf said taking a sip of wine, at least Trills seemed to do wine alright.

McCleod nodded, and Murf could tell he was doing the math in his head, trying to figure out how long ago it was since they (and by they it was meant humans) lit dissidents on fire at the stake in the name of God. It was one of the many historical periods that humans wanted to forget along with the Eugenics Wars, and the whole of twentieth century German history. Humans were good at pretending things didn’t happen.

“What was your favourite part of human history, you seem to have seen a lot of it,” the doctor observed.

Murf shrugged, “I like seeing races grow up, and find themselves in the messy business of living. You see these ideas pop up, like in the American and French revolutions of liberty, and freedom. Eventually it takes a while to figure out what it means. I mean America fought a war of independence but kept a whole race of people enslaved. So it takes a long time for the ideas to kind of work itself out of the minds of intellectuals and get put into practice.”

McCleod nodded, “I think that’s being generous to us, to our rather dark history.”

Murf shrugged, “You should have seen Vulcans before logic, whoof.”

“Did you know Tashai? She lived on Earth a bit before first contact,” McCleod said, not sure he was entirely sure that the Lathanite woman and the El-Aurian woman even knew each other now.

“No, I mean I know her, she was two classes ahead of me at the Academy, but Earth’s a biggish place and we never had torrid love affair in 1950s Paris,” Murf said.

McCleod laughed, “I don’t doubt you would have if you could have, at least she would have. Just aliens on Earth at that time, sometimes end up in the same place.”

“I don’t know, the whole El-Aurian vibe is being weird and aloof. That and the telepathy was something I wasn’t a fan of. I still don’t trust telepaths, it’s hard to tell jokes when they see the punchline coming,” Murf said.

“Not everything is a joke,” Doctor McCleod said.

Murf shook her head, “When you live long enough it is. You just have what a hundred maybe two hundred years if you’re lucky and medicine helps you. When you live long enough you can look back and laugh at almost everything.”

“Have you been married?” He asked.

“One hundred and twenty times,” Murf said. Then paused, adding, “I think. Have you?”

“One time, it ended with her leaving me for my nurse,” McCleod said.

“Was he cute at least,” Murf said, “the nurse I mean.”

“She was, they’re happy and have adopted a child,” McCleod said.

He glanced at her mostly untouched plate, “Look if you want to grab a cheeseburger or something we can. I just happen to be vegan myself, but you shouldn’t suffer.”

“There’s a good place that does ballpark hot dogs, like in baseball times,” Murf said, “Hot dogs are my best invention.”

“You invented hot dogs?” McCleod said not quite believing that.
“Maybe, maybe not. But I’m sure going to eat one after you finish that salad,” Murf said.

—- USS Selene, Crew Observation Lounge Abdera —

“We’ve left Starbase 86, and are heading towards the Triangle,” Lieutenant Commander Keyana Mason the ship’s acting First Officer said. They had taken on their complement of Starfleet Academy cadets and were now off on their second official mission a sort of shakedown cruise to investigate a Underspace aperture that was rumoured to be remaining after the mass of them had been closed by the Cardassians.

Captain Olivia Carrillo tugged at her dress uniform’s collar, which she was finding constricting, and nodded, they’d departed a few hours ago and now were just crossing into unclaimed territory, as they moved away from Federation space.

Picking up a fork she clinked it against the wine glass that she was holding to make a sound, drawing the attention of the assembled senior staff and Academy cadets. This was a mixer, to get the cadets feeling more comfortable with the officers that they’d be learning from and to familiarize some of her crew with the same cadets.

“My first officer has just reported that we’ve crossed into neutral space, the Triangle. For those of you new to the ship, the Triangle is unclaimed space that effectively rests between Romulan, Klingon, and Federation space. We’ll be journeying through it and out the other side. This mission is a short one, we’ll be there for about a month. First we’ll be spending two weeks travelling at high warp to avoid pirates and other dangers and then arriving at our destination.”

Gesturing around the room she smiled, “I’d like to take this moment to welcome our first class of cadets, they’ll be here for the next year or so.Hopefully learning from all of us, both by example and with us teaching. So thank you all for your help, I know this is additional responsibility but we all benefit from the next generation being talented and skilled. I bet there was a day years ago that Admiral Picard and his crew were new, unknown, and looking to make a name for themselves.”

She then introduced some of her senior staff and wrapped up with a reminiscence of her own Academy posting to an Inquiry-class starship. She got polite applause but the real draw she new was the real liquor and the chance for the students to mingle with a real crew and to meet the people who were essentially faculty. Most of the classes would be run by Doctors Michelle Mueller and Travis McCleod, but the actual hands on learning would be ship wide.

Once she was done her husband Lieutenant Pierre Lambert returned to her side, smiling, “Speeches aren’t fun huh?”

She nodded, they were not something she’d had to do much as the First Officer back on the USS Luna. Now though with Captain Cruz still gone, she was having to step up and tackle them. She leaned her weight very subtly on Lambert and intertwined her fingers in his. She supposed that showing this kind of affection was not the way that most captains approached their jobs, but she saw no reason to conceal who she was or who she loved. For his part Lambert stood still taking on her weight, and picking up a sausage roll from a passing tray carried by one of the servers who were aboard the ship.

A young blonde woman in a cadet’s uniform came up, “Ma’am, thank you for the kind words.”

“It’s Jura Ibile right?” Carrillo asked, studying the woman.

“Yes ma’am,” Ibile said, looking around. “I have to say it’s amazing to be here on the USS Selene. I have always been a fan of Intrepid-class starships like the USS Voyager.”

Carrillo nodded, “This is a Lamarr-class, but you’re right so was the Voyager-A, commanded by Admiral Janeway.”

“She’s a personal hero of mine,” Ibile said.

Carrillo sensed Lambert wanting to ask a question about who the Admiral was and how she’d gotten such noterietay within the Fleet but held back. Janeway and Voyager’s journey home was legendary, but her husband in his catching up on history that had occurred since he’d gotten lost in the twenty-third century was still on the exploits of Benjamin Sisko and the war against the Dominion. He’d have to delve into the whole Maquis situation.

“As a cadet I was at a lecture she gave,” Carrillo said, “It was quite inspiring. You expect people like that to be far more grandiose than they actually are. It’s even more inspiring when you realize they’re just flesh and blood like you.”

“And how about you Lieutenant, sir, have you met your heroes?” Ibile asked, turning to Lambert.

“I met Admiral Archer once,” Lambert said, “He gave the commencement speech at the Academy when I graduated.”

Ibile looked at him curiously, “So you’re like what a long lived species?”

Lambert shook his head, realizing that if he was that old, which he sort of was, he should be more than a Lieutenant now. Spending well over a century in Starfleet and only making it to a Lieutenant would be pretty embarrassing.

“I travelled through time,” he explained, “Got stuck here with my Miranda-class ship.”

Ibile nodded, trying to work it out. Carrillo, who had been through this conversation nearly a dozen times after only a few weeks of being married excused herself. And having kicked off the celebrations snuck out of the party.

—- USS Selene, Bridge —-

The turbolift doors opened and Captain Carrillo stepped out onto the bridge, still in her dress uniform. Chief Flight Control Officer Pr’Nor was sitting in the centre chair, having command of the bridge as the senior officer. She stood moving out of the seat and nodding, “Captain.”

“At ease everyone, I’m just escaping a party,” she said sitting down in the captain’s chair. She looked at the Vulcan flight control officer who had taken over at the conn to watch over the ship piloting itself.

“Why didn’t you go to the party Pr’Nor?” Carrillo asked.

“I thought it was a more efficient allocation of resources to send your husband, rather than attend myself and have him on the bridge,” Pr’Nor said.

“Well I appreciate that I hope you’re not treating him special,” Carrillo said.

“I prefer not to attend the party, if anything I utilized him to get out of work I did not want to engage in,” the Vulcan said, “Celebrations are illogical.”

“But you enjoyed my wedding right?” Carrillo asked, curious.

“Your wedding did not have cadets in attendance,” Pr’Nor said.

“And we had Romulan ale,” added Carrillo.

“There is that. I find that cadets are well meaning, but expect too much from Starfleet officers. I have never met Spock, and would have no stories to tell and yet they keep asking,” Pr’Nor said.

“One of them was into Janeway, as if I could just call the Admiral up and get the kid an internship on the Admiral’s next ship,” Carrillo said.

“At least Janeway is still alive,” said Pr’Nor.

“Well we were all young and naive once,” Carrillo said.

“I was never naive,” Pr’Nor said, “I maintain realistic assessments of all situations.”