Fransix Leski, Vivienne’s uncle, was the brother of her mother, and captain of the SS Belladonna – a somewhat upscale passenger liner – had a soft spot for his niece. He himself had no children of his own and had maintained a somewhat distant relationship with his siblings, particularly after he had defied his families wishes for an arranged marriage and instead run off with his then-boyfriend, who had since become his husband. A few years ago, he had essentially adopted Vivienne. Currently, he was the only family member she didn’t want to murder when spending more than a few minutes around. 

That was not only because he was excellent company, but also because he had generously offered her a place on his ship, which had provided Viv with not only a roof over her head but also a means of transportation. It was his way of looking out for her, ensuring she wouldn’t be left homeless or adrift. It was a gesture that Vivienne appreciated immensely. Most of the time, it was her preferred mode of travel, and the SS Belladonna had become a home of sorts, more than any other place had ever been.

Her quarters were not overly spacious, but they were larger and more comfortable than what she could afford on her own, and the space was perfectly sufficient for a single person who had little to no culinary skill, or interest in acquiring it. It essentially consisted of a single living area, complete with a household replicator, a state of the art entertainment system, and a cozy sofa that could be transformed into a bed when needed. Adjacent to the main living area were a hygiene chamber featuring a sonic shower, and a small office with a desk and a personal console.

Despite Vivienne’s best intentions and genuine (albeit occasional) attempts to tidy up, her room always had a slightly dishevelled appearance. Fransix had offered more than once to arrange for regular cleaning and organisation services, but Viv consistently declined. She thrived in the midst of her own version of organised chaos, and absolutely hated the idea of someone else moving her things around. Sure, clothes were often strewn across the floor, but that state of affairs didn’t seem to bother anyone, including Vivienne’s feline companion, Hera. 

Hera was the result of a very likely unintentional crossbreeding between an expensive Andorian feline species and a typical Terran house cat. Her fur was a lustrous silky texture, and a unique shade of deep sapphire of blue with a faint shimmer in certain lighting. Hera’s bright, intelligent eyes were a shade of cerulean, often filled with curiosity and a hint of mischief. Her ears, adorned with delicate tufts of fur, added to her distinctive charm. Despite her unique appearance, Hera possessed the same endearing qualities that endeared cats to their human companions: a playful nature, a love of warmth, and a mischievous spirit.

Vivienne had stumbled upon the miniature bundle of judgement – ahem, joy – during one of her journeys and decided to adopt the blue-furred feline. She cherished Hera’s company, and it brought her a sense of comfort to have someone —a “someone” rather than a “something. – to come home to. 

Typically, Hera had a knack for sensing when her ‘roommate’ was on her way back, often waiting for her by the door. However, on this particular day, Viv couldn’t find her furry companion near the entrance.

“Hera?” Vivienne called out, a hint of concern in her voice. Not that there was any reason to be concerned. Somehow, Vivienne managed regardless. She tossed her bag onto the sofa and furrowed her brows, tracing the meow to her office. She typically avoided the room because she disliked working, and Hera shared her aversion, preferring her human’s attention to be directed elsewhere. And ‘elsewhere’ in this case obviously meant “to her”. “What’s going on?” Vivienne asked, spotting Hera pawing at the screen of her console, which displayed the Belladonna’s emblem spinning around its own axis, indicating an awaiting call. Vivienne hated calls by default, and her dislike only increased depending on who it was that was calling. 

Vivienne let out a sigh as she noted the name associated with the notification. “Do you think we can ignore it?” she mused, hoping for some guidance from her feline friend. Hera responded with a non-committal meow, leaving Viv to make the decision.

As the call persisted and the issue showed no inclination to resolve itself, Vivienne eventually resigned herself to her fate. She took a seat and answered the call, preparing for whatever might come next. 

What came next was that the screen turned dark and Vivienne’s reflection briefly filled the screen, her own image staring back at her with an expression of “please kill me.”  Moments later, it was replaced with the pleasant face of a woman. Her blonde hair cascaded around her shoulders, styled in a chic yet effortless manner. Her complexion was smooth and with a natural radiance – Vivienne was aware that this woman was in her mid-forties, though she couldn’t help but feel a tinge of resentment at the fact that she appeared to be in her mid-twenties regardless.The woman’s dark eyes held a depth of intelligence, and her lips, painted with a shade of rosy pink, curled into an almost playful smile as she fixed her gaze upon Vivienne.

“Hey”, said Viv, desperately trying to activate the filter that blurred the messy background. 

“Hey.”, said Cheyenne. They were sisters, but Cheyenne was everything Vivienne was not. Blonde, for one. She was also beautiful, successful, and located in a room that did not look like post-War Cardassia. Cheyenne’s Starfleet uniform was adorned with two gleaming full pips, and Vivienne couldn’t help but suspect that her sister had polished them to a shine before making the call. “It’s been a while, and you ignored my last two messages,” Cheyenne noted.”Sorry, I was busy,” Vivienne offered as an excuse, although it wasn’t entirely accurate. She had indeed been occupied, but not to the extent that she couldn’t have responded to her sister’s messages. She just hadn’t wanted to. 

“Really? What were you up to?” Cheyenne inquired, her tone carrying a hint of curiosity or perhaps mild scepticism. Okay, more than mild scepticism. 

“I was visiting Quor’kathar for an interview,” Vivienne explained, being oh so careful to keep her thoughts in check. Just like Vivienne, Cheyenne was half-Betazoid, but unlike Vivienne, Cheyenne had inherited their mother’s telepathic abilities. And her inability (or unwillingness) to accept personal boundaries. Especially Viviennes. 

“Never heard of that,” Cheyenne remarked, her tone coming across as somewhat dismissive, or so Viv thought. 

“Yeah, well, once I finish my story, you will.” 

“So you’re still doing the journalism thing?” Cheyenne probed.

Vivienne nodded and replied, “Yes, I am still doing the journalism thing.”

Cheyenne’s expression seemed to soften a bit as she continued, “That’s good to hear, Vivienne. I’ve always thought you had a knack for it, even if you’re a bit unconventional.”

Vivienne appreciated the sentiment, though her sister’s words still carried a hint of condescension. “Well, unconventional can be a good thing, right? It sets you apart.”

Cheyenne nodded, her smile becoming more genuine. “You’re right, it can. So, tell me more about your interview on Quor’kathar. Anything interesting?”

Vivienne leaned back in her chair, ready to share her latest adventure. “Oh, sure. The planet has a unique telepathic field covering a large part of its surface. But they’re considering reducing it for development purposes. It’s caused quite a stir.”

She opted not to mention that she had caused the stir. She also opted not to mention that she had been sent to Quor’kathar to placate a very angry Klingon hybrid. 

But despite having to tiptoe around actual issues and the compulsion to leave out or add in a bunch of details, Vivienne felt a renewed sense of connection with her sister. It had been a while since they had a conversation that didn’t start or end with judgement or criticism. Then again, there was obviously still enough opportunity for that to happen. 

She concluded her story, “It’s an interesting place, and I’m excited to write about it.”

Cheyenne’s eyes remained fixed on her screen, reflecting her genuine interest. “I can’t wait to read your article, Vivi.”

Vivienne tinged pink at the compliment and the unloved nickname, but appreciated the rare encouragement from her sister. “Thanks.”

The moment passed, and Cheyenne’s expression grew more serious. Vivienne immediately felt on edge, and she felt… stupid. “There is a reason I am calling.”, said Cheyenne eventually. 

“Of course there is.”, Vivienne replied, crossing her arms in front of her chest. 

“It’s nothing bad, I promise. Stop getting so defensive.”

“I am not defensive.”

Cheyenne sighed, either in annoyance or disappointment. It was hard to tell. “ I was talking to a friend of mine yesterday. She’s teaching at Starbase Bravo’s Academy Campus now, and she’s leading a preparatory class for the next entrance exam. They’ve already started, but she would make an exception for you.”

Vivienne was caught off guard. She had pretty much given up on a Starfleet career when she had failed the second attempt of the entry exam. Eventually, all she managed to reply was: “I’m not at Starbase Bravo.”

Cheyenne leaned in, her gaze intent. “True, but I checked the Belladonna’s itinerary. You should arrive in two weeks’ time.”

Viv couldn’t help but feel her sister was being intrusive. “You are kind of intrusive, you know that?”

Cheyenne’s response was earnest and heartfelt. “I just want you to succeed.”

Vivienne couldn’t help but reflect on her job and the passion she had for it. She genuinely enjoyed her work, even though she was still waiting for that one big breakthrough. The thrill of writing and the adventure of travelling to meet new people brought her a unique sense of satisfaction. When her articles were published, she felt a sense of pride, and she eagerly checked for reader interactions, whether in the form of “likes” or comments.

She had attempted a few times to share her articles with her family, hoping for praise and recognition, but those moments had often fallen short of her expectations. Vivienne had learned not to rely on her family for validation, but she held a persisting conviction that joining Starfleet would truly impress them.

With a sigh, she finally agreed, “Fine. Send me the details. I’ll be there.”

Cheyenne’s smile was bright and sincere. “Promise?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Her sister’s voice took on a more serious note as she added, “And don’t be late.”

“I’ll do my best.”, Vivienne rolled her eyes, and after a short farewell, they ended the call. 

Vivienne slumped onto her sofa-bed in the dimly lit room, her brows furrowed in frustration, while Hera lazily stretched and settled herself beside her. With a sigh, Vivienne began to vent her concerns, though she knew Hera wouldn’t offer much in the way of advice.

“Okay..,” she began, rubbing the cat’s velvety ears absentmindedly, “I’ll probably fail again, and then everyone’s going to be so upset. My family thinks I have so much potential, or maybe they don’t. They say I do, but I am not sure they actually believe it themselves.”

Hera, who had been purring contentedly under Vivienne’s touch, tilted her head to one side, her bright blue eyes regarding her owner with a mixture of curiosity and indifference.

Vivienne, recognizing the tenor of her thoughts, continued somewhat more lightheartedly. “Do you think Starfleet allows cats? Other than Caitans, that is. I’ve heard they’re all about diversity and inclusion, but who knows, maybe they draw the line at blue cats.”

Hera responded with a soft meow, as if to say, “Why worry about it? Just give me attention, and everything will be fine.”Vivienne couldn’t help but smirk. “You’re right, Hera. Worrying isn’t going to change the outcome. I’ll just have to see what happens, and in the worst case avoid Cheyenne for the rest of my life.” With that, she leaned back and allowed herself a moment of peace, content with her feline friend’s soothing presence.