—- Observation Deck —-

“How is the Seattle?” Captain Adriana Cruz asked her Chief Engineer as they stood together looking down on the ship which currently sat docked with Starbase 72. Engineers claimed over its hull like ants, tethered down and wearing suits to allow them to breathe in the void of space.

”Some cosmetic damage. I’ve asked for a review of the warp engines and some new paint flourishes. Are you sure we can’t ask for kills painted on the hull like old school fighter jets?” James Young asked, sneaking a grin at the former First Officer.

”Not unless it’s wartime, no, sends the wrong message,” Cruz said hiding her own smile.

Young seemed to consider that, “Shark teeth along the saucer section?”

”No,” Cruz shot that idea down as well.

Commodore Jalian approached the pair, “Captain Cruz may I speak with you?”

”Keep me updated Young,” Cruz said, sending him on his way.

”Captain Hawthorne is recovering from his surgery. We used artificially fabricated lungs, and they seem to have worked. He will be on bed rest a few months before being allowed to return to active duty,” she informed the Captain.

”Thank you ma’am,” Cruz nodded.

”And I am sorry to tell you that your father died,” Commodore Jalian said, ”His funeral is next week on Earth.”

”There must be some mistake, I don’t have a father, or rather I never met him,” Cruz said.

”Well, his will identifies you. I was hoping you could attend, and pick up your new First Officer while you’re there,” Jalian said.

”At a stranger’s funeral?” Cruz asked confused.

Jalian looked concerned then nodded, smiled and seemed to move on from the awkwardness, “I thought you should have someone you trusted, so when I head your half-brother was in Starfleet and looking for a new post, I thought the match was quite clever really.”

”Sorry my what?” Cruz asked, feeling rocked by two revelations all at once, a father and a half-brother. 

“Commander Andrés Sánchez formerly the Chief Science Officer on the USS Amiens,” she said, “he is your half-brother and now First Officer.”

”Well, that’s a lot, thank you ma’am,” Cruz said, she needed to talk to someone.

—- Warp Factor, Bar —-

“Brother?” Lieutenant Yuhiro Kolem asked.

”Half-brother,” Cruz said, “Apparently my father is, well he owned a vineyard.”

”That sounds, Picard like,” Kolem said, “Now that you own a vineyard do you become and Admiral?”

Cruz shook her head, “I imagine someone else owns it now, his wife maybe. The point is I’m going to Earth while we’re in dock and am taking you with me, both as my Doctor and my friend.”

”I’m not a doctor,” Kolem protested.

Cruz smiled and pulled out a PADD, “Actually, I got your scores back today from Starfleet medical. You’re officially a doctor.”

“Still not a medical doctor,” Kolem pointed out, feeling a flutter in her chest at the good news. She had sent off her final test months ago, back before the whole thing with the Borg. She had almost forgotten about it now.

”You’re coming,“ Cruz said.

”Bring Jara,” Kolem said.

”That relationship is not serious enough for a funeral yet, and besides you want to stay here and avoid Lieutenant Junior Grade Hume the whole time?” Cruz asked, “I could order you.”

”Fine Doctor Kolem will accompany you,” she sighed.

”Good I booked us on a Galaxy Class that’s refitting at Starbase 1. We leave tomorrow,” Cruz smiled.

Kolem sighed and shook her head. Her friend and her Captain were devious. 

—- Earth, Mexico City —-

“This is Mexico City?” Kolem asked, she’d never been despite having grown up on Mars in a human colony.  As the Federation and humanity expanded there were just too many places to be to explore everywhere on Earth. For the half-Betazoid life in San Francisco as she had been doing to the Academy had been enough.

”Not my Mexico City,” Cruz said. She felt out of place here, on the outskirts of the city where she had grown up. She was not the daughter of an owner of a vineyard, and had grown up in a gang on the streets, now she was ringing on the front porch that was more expansive than the apartment that she had been raised in.

An older woman opened the door and looked at the two, Cruz who was clearly native to the city, and fit in with the population, and Kolem who was pale with large dark eyes and looked exotic, partly due to her Betazoid blood and partially due to the gravity of Mars shaping her differently than if she’d grown up on Earth.

“I am Adriana Cruz, I am here for the funeral of Hugo Sánchez,” she explained in Spanish though the translator put it in English for Kolem who did not speak the local Earth dialect.

The woman seemed mad, the said something disparaging about Cruz’s mother and lead the paid in.

”She doesn’t like you,” the empath whispered to her friend and Captain. It was pretty plain to see, even without Betazoid gifts.

”No, well I just discovered I had a father, imagine finding out that he had a daughter,” Cruz said.

”I think if I had a vineyard, I’d figure out how to make do,” Kolem observed.

The pair entered a large living room where the woman showed them to chairs. A young man entered wearing jeans and a long sleeved shirt wiping oil from his hands.

”I fixed the drone in the western field,” he said, then noticed the two Starfleet officers, “Oh you wore uniforms.”

”The funeral is tomorrow right?” Cruz asked, standing.

”Yes, you must be Adriana, my half-sister,“ he said and pulling a cloth from his back pocket sipped his hand before extending it in an offer to shake.

”Yes, and apparently your new Captain,” she said shaking.

”I’m Yuhiro,” Kolem said also standing, “Umm, but most people just call me Kolem.”

He nodded, “You’re the Romulan doctor? How does that work?”

”No, I’m from Mars, and half-Betazoid, not Romulan. That’s Doctor T’Rala our Assistant Chief Medical Officer,” Kolem said, “And it works. She deals with our Vulcan doctor, and they have a kind weird thing going on. Not like romantic, just like wacky.”

The man nodded, “We have replicators, if you want to change. I’ll get you some food if you want.”

”You two staying here this week?” the younger Sánchez asked.

”We had booked rooms, at the Starfleet barracks,” Cruz said.

”Nonsense, you’re family, you’ll stay here. Are you two…” he seemed to be searching for a delicate way of asking if they were a couple.

Kolem blushed, “No, no we’re not together. We’re friends, I’m her Second Officer. And straight.”

”Okay, no judgement,” Andrés said holding up his hands.

”So your father, our father,“ Cruz asked, “he made wines?”

”Well the family has for a number of generations. We took the winery several generations ago, he had wanted me to run it, but I wanted to do science,” Andrés explained, “I‘ve been helping out how I can since I was old enough to walk.”

”I joined a gang and stole a runabout,” Cruz said, “So you know, life isn’t just a biography on the Picards. Making wine, saving the galaxy.”

”Cleary our dad did something wrong,” Andrés said, “I’m sorry we didn’t, welcome you.”

”It’s not your fault, it’s just all this, it’s something, must have been comfortable,” Cruz said.

”It was, and I’m sorry about that. I’ll show you your rooms,” he said leading them upstairs. Kolem could tell that Cruz was upset and looking for an outlet to take out her frustrations. It was upsetting to find out that you had a father, who had given a very comfortable and affluent life to his kids but not to you, who had never heard of him until he was gone. While there was no more poverty or hunger in the world, there was a difference between owning a vineyard, and growing up rough and ready on the street. 

Kolem knew that even compared to her comfortable middle class lifestyle, this was something else. This was wealth, of a kind that was not meant to exist but still did because not everyone got to own averages with grape vines all over the place.

A few tries at a nice light dress and Kolem came out to find Captain Cruz with a glass of wine, in her own flowered Mexican dress talking to her half-brother.

”So why Starfleet and not wines?” Cruz asked.

Her half-brother shrugged, “I wanted to do science. The Vulcan science academy turned me down so Starfleet seemed like where I could do real science. For while I was going it with the USS Amiens, my last ship.”

“You’ll like the Seattle then,” Kolem said. 

“You look… nice,” Andrés said.

Kolem smiled, “Your brother has a crush on me.”

”What?” he blushed, and looked shocked.

”Sorry half-Betazoid, I can say those things,” Kolem smiled, teasing him.

Kolem took a glass of wine when offered and tasted it, she nodded, “That’s good.”

”Why do people want wine from a winery when they can just replicate it?” Cruz asked.

”She says that about the former Captain grinding his own coffee beans too,” Kolem said.

Andrés Sánchez shrugged, ”The taste, the texture. Not synthahol, lots of reasons. Whatever it is it keeps the place going. People will always like drinking.”

”I certainly do,” Kolem said, enjoying the feel of real wine, and all that that meant.