Cadet Jordan Duncan-Court climbed carefully through the tight confines of a Jefferies tube, his hands gripping the metallic rungs as he made his way towards a small crawlspace. He had been searching everywhere for his boyfriend, Cadet Alfie McCallister-Reyas, and suspected he would find him in one of the quietest nooks of the ship. As he manoeuvred into the space, he spotted Alfie leaning against the curved bulkhead, gazing through a circular viewport at the trailing stars streaking past the Astra at warp. The soft glow of the passing lights reflected in Alfie’s thoughtful eyes, casting a dreamy haze over his expression.

Before he said anything, Jordan sighed inwardly to himself. Alfie had not been entirely himself ever since they boarded the Astra. Jordan still hadn’t figured out why. The U-S-S Astra was a brand new Protostar-class starship that Starfleet had assigned to the Odyssey Squadron to aid in its deep space exploration of the Delta Quadrant by serving as a training vessel for the cadets assigned to the Odyssey. When he heard the news about this exciting new ship, Jordan couldn’t wait to join it. Alfie, on the other hand, didn’t share his level of enthusiasm. 

“There you are,” Jordan called softly, his voice carrying a note of relief. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Alfie turned his head, a reassuring smile touching his lips, and gestured for Jordan to join him. A book lay open on his lap, its pages slightly crinkled from frequent handling. The title was in an old Earth language, which Alfie had been reading since they boarded the ship. As Jordan settled beside him, Alfie wrapped an arm around his shoulders in a side hug. The warmth of the embrace was comforting and grounding.

“You okay?” Jordan asked, his voice filled with concern. “You disappeared after our duty shift. I was hoping you and I could visit the holodeck.”

Alfie nodded slowly, his gaze returning to the passing stars. “Yeah, I’m fine… just taking in the view. It still feels surreal. We were cadets aboard the Odyssey one minute, watching our parents and mentors command a fleet. Now we’re here, on our own training vessel, taking the first real steps toward our own careers. It’s a lot.”

Jordan pressed a gentle kiss to Alfie’s cheek before snuggling closer. “We may not be on the Odyssey anymore, but we’re still together. That’s what matters.”

Alfie sighed, his smile deepening. “I never thought I’d see the day I’d leave the Odyssey. That ship was home. It still is.”

They sat in silence for a moment, simply enjoying each other’s presence. The gentle purr of the Astra’s systems filled the crawlspace, a quiet reminder of the ship’s steady journey.

Jordan finally spoke, his voice filled with quiet reflection. “I honestly thought my dads would try to stop me and William from leaving. I mean, we’ve been through so much together. My dads were the family that William and I didn’t even realise we needed. And now we’re here, taking the next step. It’s exciting, but it’s weird, too.” He looked up to Alfie. He could see there was something on his mind. “Tell me, Alf, please, what is it?”

Alfie sighed, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the book’s worn cover.

“Since my brothers left for Cestus III, my mom taking command of the Bellerophon, and my dad getting promoted to commodore, nothing is the same. Everything’s changed. My mom is always busy on her ship, and my dad constantly moves between ships in the squadron. I rarely see either of them. And now, we’re on the Astra, away from everything we’ve known. It’s exciting but overwhelming.”

Jordan’s heart ached at the sadness in Alfie’s voice. He turned slightly, taking his boyfriend’s hand between his own. “Well, if there’s anything I can do to make you feel like you belong, I’ll do it. You’re not alone, Alfie. Not while I’m here.”

A grateful smile spread across Alfie’s face. He cupped Jordan’s face gently in his hands. “I know. And I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

Alfie leaned in, their foreheads brushing briefly before their lips met in a tender kiss filled with deep affection. Jordan responded, his hand resting on the back of Alfie’s neck, pulling him closer. The warm security between them was everything that they needed. 

The ship faded as time stood still; all that mattered was each other. Jordan felt Alfie sigh softly before deepening the kiss, a silent affirmation that they still had each other despite the changes around them.

A sudden, deliberate cough shattered the moment.

Surprised, the two cadets jolted apart, gazing up at the Astra’s holographic training program that appeared before them. It was Penelope, the former Emergency Command Hologram of the Odyssey. Her program had been enhanced and transferred to the Astra’s systems, making her presence ubiquitous. 

Hands clasped behind her back, Penelope smirked. “Apologies for the interruption, gentlemen, but Captain Niro has requested all cadets to join him in the crew mess hall for a shared meal in thirty minutes. I suggest you wrap up your little moment and return to the bunkroom to prepare.”

Flustered at being caught, Jordan and Alfie quickly scrambled to their feet. 

“Uh, yeah—thanks, Penelope. We’ll be there,” Jordan stammered.

With an amused glint in her eyes, the hologram nodded before vanishing in a shimmer of light.

Alfie let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Will we ever get a private moment to ourselves?”

Jordan chuckled as he put his hands on Alfie’s waist and pulled him close. “Hey, look on the bright side—at least we know Penelope still has a sense of humour.”

Alfie laughed softly. “Yeah… I guess some things don’t change.” He smirked one more time before he leaned in to kiss Jordan. “Thank you.” He said before kissing Jordan one more time.

After kissing him back for a few more seconds, Jordan pulled back. “Any time.” Jordan grabbed Alfie’s hand as they returned through the Jefferies tube. 

The gentle drum of the Astra’s engine room pulsed like a heartbeat through the floor beneath them. Ensign Jaceon leaned over the diagnostic console, his hands moving with practised efficiency, yet his mind was anything but serene. Being the ship’s chief engineer weighed more heavily on him than he had expected. Though he had always trusted his technical skills, stepping into this leadership role made everything feel unfamiliar. His recent promotion to ensign, spurred by Commodore McCallister and Commander Gray’s insistence, had taken him by surprise. His time as part of the Starfleet Corps of Engineers assigned to the Odyssey Squadron under Gray had helped him refine his technical expertise (a lot of it based on his knowledge retained from being a former Borg drone).

“Alright, Scott,” Jaceon said, keeping his voice steady as he tried to focus on the task at hand. He glanced up at the young Midshipman standing beside him, whose wide eyes were fixed on the glowing warp core schematics that lit up their surroundings. “This dual-core assembly represents one of the principal factors enabling the Astra to achieve remarkable warp speeds while maintaining stability. This setup is unconventional, yet successfully coordinating the two cores requires a solid grasp of each warp core’s individual operation.”

Florrick’s eyes shone excitedly as he leaned closer to the holographic display. “Two cores? That’s incredible. I mean, I knew the Astra was a top-tier ship, but seeing this up close—” he let out a small, awestruck laugh, shaking his head. “It’s just mind-blowing.”

Jaceon allowed himself a small smile. Despite his nerves, he appreciated Florrick’s enthusiasm. “Yeah, it’s impressive,” he said, tapping the screen to highlight the cores. “The cores are synchronised through a regenerative coupling system. Essentially, they act like one core, even though they’re physically separate. Power fluctuations get balanced automatically, and the system compensates for any micro-disruptions. It allows us to push the Astra to warp nine without destabilising the core.”

Florrick absorbed every word, nodding eagerly, his fingers itching to ask more. “So, if one core starts to—uh, I don’t know—fail, the other takes over?”

“Exactly,” Jaceon replied, his voice laced with pride despite his internal uncertainty. When told about his new assignment, Jaceon spent hours reading everything he could about the Protostar-class and its technical configurations. “The cores share load balancing in real-time, and the backup systems ensure we’re never in danger of losing both at once. The automation’s smart enough to keep the ship running even if a core suffers damage. It’s all about redundancy and constant monitoring.”

Florrick continued to stare at the schematic with amazement. “And all this is controlled automatically? I mean, you don’t need a crew member to monitor every part of the system manually?”

Jaceon chuckled lightly, trying to brush off his nerves. “That’s the beauty of it. The Astra is highly automated. We’ve got a team of holographic engineers, but with the way these systems are designed, we don’t need to babysit everything constantly. They essentially take care of themselves, but there’s always room for intervention if needed.”

Florrick grinned, his eyes still glued to the schematic. “That’s amazing. I can’t wait to learn all of this.”

Jaceon hesitated momentarily, then continued, “I promise you, Scott, I’ll teach you everything I know. If you’re serious about this, you’ll pick it up quickly.”

The two were interrupted by the sound of the holographic projectors activating another program. Penelope, the ship’s holographic training officer, appeared into existence. Smiling wildly, she looked at both men. “Ensign Jaceon, Midshipman Florrick,” she said, her voice smooth. “The captain requests an update on the warp core diagnostics. He wants to know when we’ll be finished.”

Jaceon straightened up, blinking at the reminder of his new role. “Thanks, Penelope,” he said, his voice returning to its measured cadence. “We’re just about wrapped up here. I’ll send a report once we’re done.”

Penelope nodded, giving them both a quick smile before turning to leave. “Captain’s expecting a full status report before the joint dinner in ten minutes, Ensign. Don’t keep him waiting.”

“Understood,” Jaceon replied, already returning his focus to the holographic display. He let out a quiet breath, reactivating the holographic engineering crew, which began to complete the final diagnostic checks.

Florrick watched in silence as the engineering team worked seamlessly around them. Jaceon could sense the younger officer’s growing curiosity. Still, there was something else in Florrick’s demeanour—a quiet determination that spoke of someone willing to put in the effort to learn, to grow.

“Ready to head out?” Jaceon asked, his voice sounding less unsure now. There was a slight warmth to it, a new resolve settling into his bones.

Florrick nodded eagerly, stepping away from the console. “Absolutely, sir. I’m all set.” As they approached the door, Florrick’s voice broke the silence. “Ensign, if you don’t mind me asking—can I ask you something personal?”

Jaceon glanced over at him, sensing the hesitation in his tone. “Sure, Scott. What’s on your mind?”

Florrick hesitated, clearly weighing his words. “Do you miss being on the Odyssey? I mean, with Commander Gray and the SCE unit. You were part of a pretty tight team there.”

The question took Jaceon by surprise. He paused for a moment, his hand resting on the doorframe. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his gaze drifting toward the distant hall that led to the bridge. “I do miss it. I miss working with Commander Gray and the whole team. But, you know, the commander once told me something I keep coming back to. Sometimes, you must take a leap before taking your next step. He was right. This is a different challenge, but it’s a step forward.”

Florrick nodded, his brow furrowing slightly as he mulled over Jaceon’s words. “I get it. It’s like a chance to grow, right?” He paused before asking, almost as if the question had been on his mind for a while. “Do you ever wish you were still on the Odyssey?”

Jaceon gave a small, reflective smile. “Sometimes,” he said softly. “But I’m starting to make my peace with it. This is where I need to be. Well, that’s at least how Commander Gray sold it to me. How about you?”

Florrick, to Jaceon’s surprise, shook his head firmly. “I don’t miss the Odyssey. Not really. I mean, I’ve got my friends here, and we’re on one of Starfleet’s newest ships. What more could I ask for right now?”

Jaceon chuckled, the knot in his chest loosening a little. “You’re right, Scott. The Astra is a hell of a ship. We’ve got everything we need right here. It’s just a different kind of adventure.”

The mess hall aboard the Astra was a modest yet inviting space. It was smaller in scale compared to the grand dining areas of larger Starfleet vessels, yet it was undeniably warm. The ambient murmur of the ship’s systems blended with the rhythmic clatter of tableware as Cadet William Duncan-Court diligently assisted Counsellor Stephanie Parker in setting up the long communal table for the crew’s first joint dinner. The aroma of freshly cooked dishes from the galley subtly permeated the air, signalling the significance of the evening’s gathering.

Parker, a petite woman with cropped brown hair and warm brown eyes, moved with precision as she adjusted the cutlery placement. Despite her small stature, she carried herself with the assured poise of an experienced officer. Having recently been promoted to full lieutenant, she exuded an air of quiet confidence, her every action deliberate and efficient.

William, meanwhile, was still adjusting to his new role as a Starfleet cadet. Having only recently been accepted, he relished every opportunity to prove himself. The crispness of his newly issued cadet uniform still felt unfamiliar, but wearing it filled him with a sense of pride and determination. He was eager to do well and show that he belonged among the ranks of those training to become Starfleet officers. He wanted to make his fathers proud for everything they had done for him. 

“Thanks again for helping me with this, William,” Parker said as she smoothed out a folded napkin beside a set of utensils. “I know table-setting isn’t the most thrilling assignment, but it sets the tone for the evening. The captain is eager that we share a daily meal as a crew. He’s an eager cook, hence the galley behind us.”

William focused on arranging the plates and offered a small smile. “I don’t mind. Doing something like this reminds me of being back on the Odyssey.”

Parker arched an eyebrow as she adjusted a centrepiece. “Are you already missing it?”

William hesitated momentarily before nodding. He knew that Parker was a trained counsellor, but he also learned from his experience working with Counsellor Horin that anything they said or did was from a place of care. “A little. The Odyssey was home, and it was a lot bigger than this ship. I wasn’t really expecting to be assigned to the Astra.”

“I know what you mean,” Parker admitted, repositioning a chair before moving on to the next. “But you earned your spot here, William. Your entrance exam scores were the highest among all the cadets assigned to this ship—most of whom are in their third year. That’s no small feat.”

William exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess Starfleet is eager to rebuild its ranks after Frontier Day. They need officers more than ever.”

Parker’s expression softened as she carefully aligned the plates. “That’s true. I wouldn’t be here under normal circumstances, either. My promotion and assignment to the Astra happened much faster than expected, but Captain Niro had a vision for this ship’s mission.”

Curious, William glanced up from his work. “What’s it like working for Captain Niro? I only know that he’s Commander Tierra’s older brother. You’ve been with him longer than anyone else on the Astra. He seems nice.”

Parker chuckled as she paused to consider her answer. “He’s an exceptional leader and mentor. I met him when I was part of the teaching staff at the Mellstoxx Campus, and when he asked me to join him on the Astra, I didn’t hesitate. He has a quiet but commanding presence—someone you instinctively want to follow. He sets high expectations, but he also supports his crew completely.”

William nodded as he placed the last of the glasses. “Sounds a lot like my dads. They are both incredible officers, but even more than that, they’re amazing parents. Every morning and every evening, we always had a meal together. It was a routine I really valued.”

Parker studied him thoughtfully. “And lately?”

William hesitated before answering. “Lately, it’s been harder. They’ve both taken on more responsibilities aboard the Odyssey. I understand why, but I miss when things felt simpler. I suppose it comes with one of my dads being the captain and my other dad being the senior officer of the watch.”

Parker gave him a knowing look. “And how do you feel about sharing this training cruise with your brother?”

William shrugged, feigning indifference. “It doesn’t bother me. Jordan’s more focused on spending time with Alfie anyway.”

Parker smirked, shaking her head. “I had a feeling those two were a couple.”

William’s eyes widened in realisation. “Oh—please don’t say anything to Captain Niro. If Jordan finds out I said something, he’ll never let me hear the end of it. Plus, Alfie is like another big brother to me. He means the world to me. I can’t have either of them hating me.”

Parker held up her hands in mock surrender. “Relax. I won’t say a word as long as it doesn’t interfere with their training.”

Just then, the mess hall doors slid open with a soft hiss, and Jordan and Alfie strolled in, mid-conversation, laughing quietly between themselves. As they entered, they turned their attention toward the other two, their expressions shifting to curiosity.

Parker greeted them warmly. “Perfect timing. Can you two help finish setting up?”

Both cadets nodded without hesitation. Alfie gathered a stack of plates while Jordan aligned the chairs around the table. As they worked, Parker leaned slightly toward William and murmured with a teasing grin, “They make a cute couple.”

William groaned, rolling his eyes. “You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

Parker chuckled, nudging him playfully on the shoulder. “Not a chance.”