Shahr Th’thollar ended yet another duty shift feeling frustrated. One might not know it, as he did his best to keep his face neutral, but it was there. He’d been doing his best to adjust to Federation ways, but everything was such a stark contrast to how the Imperial Guard operated. Shahr had always assumed the Federation, like the IG, was a military organization. It turns out, this is only sometimes true. Sure, they have ranks, and sometimes go to war, but in general, operations were fairly lax. At least, in comparison to the IG.

Sighing, Shahr realized he needed to vent to someone who might understand. He thought of sending a subspace letter to one of his old friends who had also left the IG for Starfleet, but then realized he didn’t need to go to such lengths. Shahr tapped his com badge. 

“Ensign Shahr to Lieutenant Commander t’Rehu.”

Tapping the button on her PADD, she responded, “t’Rehu here. Go ahead.”

“Would you happen to be free, sir? I am in need of some advice. I can come to you, wherever is convenient.”

Hilea ignored the ‘sir’ remark. Genders could be too fluid among races. She could hear the frustration in his voice and the fact that she outranked him by several orders of magnitude spoke volumes about his Fire, as her mother would have said. It was an interesting contrast to how others treated her. “I have nothing going on at the moment.” She offered.

“Thank you. I’m on my way.”

Shahr hesitated before leaving. He was officially off-duty, so he should change, right? He’d worn his suit to Valhalla the other day, but other than workout gear, he pretty much stayed in uniform. Old habits. Shahr quickly changed into some civilian clothing his friends from OCS told him looked “casual enough” and set course for Hilea t’Rehu’s quarters.

Shahr stopped in the hallway and pressed the door chime, then waited politely for a response.

“Enter,” Hilea said.

“Good morning! I mean, evening? My apologies, I just switched off of night shift, and my sense of time hasn’t caught up to me yet.”

The room was warm. She hoped it wasn’t too warm. Compensating she had put on a thick dark green Karate Gi she favored since they were soft thick cotton and she had this lined in silk for warmth and additional comfort. 

The lighting was warm and medium. The overstuffed denim recliner and couch were on one side. Crossed Rihannsu swords are above and behind and attached to the wall. Several plants hung around the room filling the air with a light scent. A glass display case of daggers and other hand weapons was on the other wall. 

Hilea was at the replicator. “Can I get you something while I am here, Shahr?” She added, “Computer, large mug of Oolong tea.”

Shahr stepped into the room and immediately started sweating. “Oh, well, I’d love a srjula please. It’s a tea I programmed into the computer the other day.” It was a hot drink, but Shahr didn’t think an Andorian Sunset would be appropriate right now. He took a moment to look about the cabin, appreciating the weaponry he saw on display. 

Not quite ready to dive into his feelings, Shahr opted for some small talk first. “Have you used these blades, or are they decorative?” Shahr gestured to the Rihannsu above the couch.

Hilea retrieved the drink from the food slot and handed it to Shahr. “I have not used these blades in combat. Right now, they are decoration. But none functional things never made much sense to me. Please, make yourself comfortable” 

“Ah. Even as a pilot, I used to undergo extensive hand-to-hand combat training in the IG, but I’ve never actually had those skills put to the test.” Shahr sipped his tea. “I think I do alright with a Hrisal, but when does one really get the opportunity to use a blade these days? A borg invasion, maybe?” Shahr shuddered at the thought.

“When the distances are close enough for everything to be less effective,” Hilea added. “The blade skills are important only if you need them. Pray you do not.” 

“Well, I won’t beat around the bush any longer. I respectfully request some advice. As you know, I transferred from the Imperial Guard. It was… extremely militaristic, especially in comparison to Starfleet.” Shahr considered his next words. “I’m not complaining, mind you. I think, eventually, I will find my way here. But at the moment, I can’t see the path. I’m struggling with some of the informalities, and perhaps more importantly, I worry about damaging my career any time I want to suggest something that isn’t exactly what my superiors suggest.”

Shahr realized he’d been staring down, just swirling his tea. “You transferred from the Romulan Navy, yes? How did you manage the transition?”

Hilea chuckled once, a rarer event. “It helped that my parents were executed for Sedition and would have executed me had they been able to. As it was the front lines of the Dominion War were an education. I learned mostly that we have far more in common with each other than most of us are willing to admit. Especially societies such as ours.”

Consuming her tea, she stared thoughtfully out the nearby window for a minute. “I would suggest that the martial attitudes of our societies suggest that more aggressive behaviors are tolerated differently. Humans tend to be far more open, and we might use that data for more active approaches. They tend to care less about rank, status, or caste, than we would in our cultures.” Taking another sip, she added, “It will take time to adjust. There are times when the way things are done here still rubs me abrasively. Hilea offered, a tinge of grit in her voice if you listened hard.

“While a human would tell you to relax or chill out, my suggestion would be to find more creative ways to channel that energy, thus freeing you to be less forward with your crewmates. This reminds me, by the way, please do not call me Sir, unless I am in command, or you require retraining in hand to hand.” Hilea added with a head tilt and a wink. Finishing her tea, she recycled the mug. “Have you used a sword before?” She asked

Shahr took another look at the blades on the wall. “Yes, the Hrisal I mentioned before is an Andorian sword. I believe it’s similar to the human scimitar. Of course, experience on one blade doesn’t transfer 100% to another, but it helps.” Shahr looked back at the doctor. “Should we test the Hrisal against the Rihannsu?” The idea was exciting. Training against another person was always better than a hologram, and maybe he was making a friend. “I promise no more Sirs until you take command.”

“You would be hard-pressed to find someone in an active combat zone without a dangerous close-in weapon. However, that isn’t exactly what you came for.” She said, walking over to a nearby locked cabinet made from hardwood, brass, and exquisite lacquer finish. Taking out Collin’s glasses, she poured two fingers of Romulan Ale, the light making the blue liquid glow in the room lighting.

Turning around she handed one to Shahr. “Rare and getting rare. Not a great vintage but Ale should be a shared experience if possible. Many things in life have a polar opposite, learning to accept the discomfort, to get to the pleasure of it, is the trick.”

When Shahr took the glass, she held hers up, offering, “to new and interesting friends.”

Romulan ale! Shahr hadn’t had the chance to try it before. He graciously accepted the glass, and raised it in response to Hilea’s toast. “Here here.” He took a sip and smiled.