The shuttle shuddered as it flew through the atmosphere, jostling the passengers. Fleet Captain Peter Crawford sat in the first passenger seat, gritting his teeth. Shore leave usually meant space for relaxation. His shore leave was trending in the opposite direction, and he’d been wrestling with it during the trip from Montana Station to Earth on the USS Denver. As the shuttle rumbled closer to Roundup, Montana, he wondered how this was all going to go. He’d left the town, the ranch, and his family behind thirty years ago for Starfleet. Estrangement had helped him stay focused on his career and keep his past in the far back of his mind. And yet, here he was, diving back into that world. Another shudder and the shuttle broke through into clear skies as it arced towards the ground, the town of Roundup sprawled out below. The town and county had fought modernity over the years. It had won some battles and lost others. It now resembled a hodgepodge of classic small-town Montana architectural designs with clashing modern 2400s pieces and parts spread across the streets and into the hills. Peter waited patiently until the shuttle landed on the transport pad. He glanced to his side, where his chief science officer sat, Andorian eyes wide. “Welcome to Roundup, Eseri.” They both wore civilian clothes, and he had made it clear they were off duty.

“Thank you, sir.” She shook her head, taking a deep breath. “It was kind of you to invite me along.”

He unbuckled and stood, and she followed suit, walking behind him as they stepped into the warm summer air. He searched around the spaceport. “Don’t thank me yet. Thirty years away and there’s always a chance someone might just shoot me.” She gently grabbed his arm, panic filling her eyes. He put his other hand over hers. “I’m mostly kidding, Eseri. The days of the Wild West are mostly found in museums and tours around town.”

Her voice wasn’t trembling, but it was slightly shaky.“You say ‘mostly’, sir. That suggests something more. Sir.”

Crawford spotted a familiar face in the crowd. “Montana’s always had a rebel streak running in its veins.” He led her towards the figure leaning against the bleached-white walls of the port. “Mary,” he gave her a nod.

The young woman tipped her brimmed hat at him, a lazy look in her eyes as she looked from him to Eseri. “Been a while since we’ve had an Andorian in town.”

Peter shook his head. “Eseri, this is Mary Rockford. She’s the only family I stay connected with. She’s just trying to get under your skin,” he gave Rockford a sharp look. “I didn’t come here to start back up with old grudges and memories, Mary.”

Mary chuckled. Dust and mud caked her dirty jeans, her boots similarly adorned. An ornate belt with a shiny buckle shone out, and her simple work shirt hung on a ranch worked and muscled frame. Dirty blond hair peeked out from underneath the hat; she bound the rest in the back. “Well, I’m just getting you ready for everybody else. You are planning to visit the ranch?”

Peter tightened his face. “Only for the funeral. I’ve arranged for a house in town.”

If that bothered Mary, she didn’t show it. “You’re going to miss out on the reading of the will. It’ll be quite a spectacle, I imagine.”

Peter felt his muscles tighten. What did she know? In her communications with him, she’d talked plenty about working her way closer to his parents over the years. “You saying I should go, then?”

A shrug was her reply. “You know this family, Peter. Drama is the base language. I can drive you to the hovercar rental.” Peter replied with a terse nod.

“Thirty years is a long time, sir,” Eseri sat on the couch in the rental house, taking in the rustic design. Montana had been a mystery to her, and she’d jumped at the chance to travel to Earth to experience it. She didn’t regret her choice, but was wondering what she’d unwittingly become party to. Captain Crawford had briefed her on the complexity of his family. His lack of connection to his parents had led to his indifference to their passing a month ago. She wasn’t sure how to feel about his lack of reaction to the news. Eseri was still wrestling with the foreboding reality of her return to her own home. Her parents had made it clear they would impose dire consequences, including exile into an indifferent and inconsequential career in the darkest corners of Andoria, if she did not achieve stellar success in Starfleet.

Crawford stood at the bay window of the living room, a chilled bottle of beer in one hand. He’d taken a long swing when they’d arrived, and he was slowly sipping at it now. “I had my reasons.” His tone was tired and his posture was loose. “I didn’t want to come back here. The conditions of the will and testament require me to be here for it to be read, and the conditions applied.” He walked to the comfy armchair that sat opposite the couch and sat, grumbling. “They just wanted to spite me one last time.” Scoffing, he took another long pull from the bottle. “They knew I’d come anyway.” He leaned forward, eyes focusing on Eseri. “I am aware of your situation, Eseri.”

She sat up, startled. “Sir?”

“Your parents, through the Andorian government, have asked, through diplomatic and operational channels, for updates on your performance.”

Eseri stared at him, shocked. “Sir?”

“I asked why they needed regular updates.” He chuckled darkly. “Your parents have some aggressive feelings about your success, Eseri.” He stood, shifting over to the other side of the couch, and turning to her. “I’ve made a request to have you fully transferred to the Fourth Fleet.”

A third, “Sir?” was the best she had.

Crawford smiled wanly. “You shouldn’t be worrying about whether you succeed here with the weight of your parents’ judgement in play.” He drained the beer. “You’re here because I want you to see that you’re not alone. We all have people in our lives who’ve made it difficult. Plus, I need someone to keep me from taking a swing or two at my more…irritating family members.”

Eseri saw her captain in a new light but was still unsure how to feel. “Is Mary one of them?”

Crawford stood, chuckling. “It depends on the day and her mood. We’ll see which one we get. Get ready for a night out on the town. I think we’re going to make an appearance at the reading of the will.”

She pushed off the couch, asking, “Is that wise, sir?”

Peter shrugged as he headed to his room to change. “I suppose we’ll find out.”