—- Sánchez Estate Winery —-

Andrés Sánchez had put on his new uniform for the Seattle for their final dinner on Earth. Tomorrow they would leave aboard a Challenger-Class ship, the USS Obama, that was headed for Starbase 72. Captain Adriana Cruz and her Second Officer and Chief Councelor Yuhiro Kolem were staying at the estate and of course ate there. When he had heard that their return journey would be joined by new officer Lieutenant Junior Grade Rosa Flores Andrés had invited her as well.

”Ignore my mother,” he said as she scowled whispering something about rats under her breath. The future may have many advantages, but it was still humans given to human bigotries. There were still discrepancies between what one owned and what had been provided for you. Nobody was going hungry these days, but that still did not mean that everyone owned a large estate and winery.

Cruz now did, or at least half of it with her newly discovered half-brother Andrés. She looked around the large house and the dinning room, a space that was as large as the mess hall back at Starfleet Academy, and asked, “So we don’t have to do anything? With the winery?”

Andrés smiled, “It’s all taken care of. My father had managers, and staff for all that. I’ll just pop in on my leave to make sure everything is going well.”

Feeling that if she was half owner, she should do something even if she did not know the first thing about owning a winery Cruz said, “Are you sure I can’t do anything?”

“What could you do? From the other end of space?” Sánchez said, “This is what I grew up doing.”

”And I grew up stealing shuttlecrafts is that what you’re saying?” Cruz asked.

Andrés looked surprised at the sudden burst of anger then signed. He had not meant to insult her but he realized she had been called across the galaxy to a funeral of a man she’d never met, told it was her father then presented with a whole new family and a job she’d never wanted and told she was not able to do it.

”Wine’s garbage anyway, you should make tequila,” Rosa Flores said helpfully.

“We do,” Andrés said, “mostly stuff sold up north.”

Trying to play the peacemaker Kolem picked up her glass of wine and took a sip, “I think it’s good, this red it nice. We’ll be back on synthahol starting tomorrow.”

”I’ll bring some bottles,” Andrés promised.

”And the tequila, bring that,” added Flores.

Dinner began and Kolem realized it was mostly the kind of meal that Mexicans show non-Mexicans to impress them, and that all of the guests other than her were locals. So the burritos and tacos that had been prepared by professionally hired chefs using local ingredients were amazing but perhaps not as shocking to the group as Andrés had expected. That and Cruz was still in a mood that had come and gone all throughout their time there, Kolem simply ate everything and commented on how good it all was.

Staff cleared the table, which seemed to annoy Cruz more and she headed out onto the balcony. Kolem waited a minute then followed.

”So wanna talk about it?” Kolem asked, both as a friend and the ship’s Chief Counselor.

“No it’s just I want to go. This isn’t my house, or half my house, this isn’t my family really,” Cruz said, “This guy just had a fling with my mother before settling down with his wife and now, years later here I am. They don’t want me, not really.”

”Well your mother-in-law doesn’t,” Kolem said, “I don’t need to be empathic to tell you that. But Andrés does. He’s an egg head, and you’re a scrapper. You need him to show you how to think things through more, and he needs you to show you how to live a little.”

Cruz was quiet, “When the power went out on the Seattle and the Borg were coming, I thought we were dead and I thought to myself that if I died I’d done a lot. First Officer on a ship, I should have been in jail. Then I come here, and feel like I’m back to being a poor 12 year old.”

”But you’re not, you’re a Starfleet Captain and only you can make you feel a certain way,” Kolem said, “You saw how Flores looked up to you, you going into Starfleet changed her life. Focus on that success and not all the wineries you own, or don’t own.”

”You just want to make out with Andrés,” Cruz teased, lightening up.

”I do, can I? Make out with your brother?” Kolem begged.

”I’m not going to stop you,” Cruz said, “Just if it’s gets messy with my First and Second Officer, you’re both being transferred to garbage scow duty.”

“I’m half Betazoid, we never get ‘messy’” Kolem teased.

Captain Cruz snorted, and followed her Chief Counselor back inside the house.