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Debriefings and Comfort Food

Posted on Tue Oct 29th, 2019 @ 3:12pm by Captain Enalia Telvan & Commander Rita Paris & Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox & Petty Officer 3rd Class S'Rina Wil'I'Ams & Petty Officer 3rd Class V'Nus Wil'I'Ams & Lieutenant Commander Percival Garney
Edited on on Thu Oct 31st, 2019 @ 10:59am

Mission: Family Detention
Location: Starfleet Command- Earth
Timeline: 2396

The week-long travel time from the Romulan Neutral Zone to the Sol system was a largely uneventful one, and the Hera was now safely docked at Jupiter Station while several members of her command crew were preparing for their debriefings with Starfleet Intelligence. Debriefings which were more commonly thought of as interrogations, due to the extreme circumstances of the recent kidnapping and subsequent rescue of Lieutenant Mnhei’sahe Dox and her mother, Jaeih from the hands of the Tal’Shiar. The officers to be debriefed were, for the most part, to be transported by shuttle from Jupiter station to Earth together, where most of their stays were expected to last at least a couple of days.

Except for Lieutenant Dox.

As she sat in the rear of a very well-armed Starfleet Runabout that had been sent to deliver her to Earth, she read over a PaDD in her hands while the Starfleet Security guards sent by Intel Command stood nearby, silently eyeing Petty Officers S’Rina and V’Nus Wil’I’Ams. Starfleet had wanted Dox to be isolated and under only their protection, but the command of the Hera had insured that Dox had her own retinue of security whom she both knew and trusted. Just to be sure. Their presence made her feel better, and it emphasized that both Starfleet AND The Hera was taking the young Lieutenant’s safety very seriously in this transfer. Even in a system as well defended as the heart of the Federation, nobody was taking the issue of her kidnapping by the Tal’Shiar lightly.

Reading the PaDD, the young redheaded Rihannsu woman sighed lightly. While the Captain and Commander would have to sit through a number of meetings, debriefings and the like, she had in her hands a gauntlet of 30 separate meetings. 12 Admirals, 5 Starfleet Psychological evaluations, 6 separate diplomats, 6 Starfleet Intelligence department heads, and 1 unnamed 'Special Consultant', who was likely another Romulan ex-pat like her mother. The two weeks that the Hera was scheduled to stay at the Jupiter station was well and truly filled for her, and she couldn’t help but feel like this was not terribly dissimilar to the month she had just spent on the Romulan starship under the tutelage of her Grandmother, the Senator Verelan t’Rul... and later Riov Dalia Rendal, of the Tal’Shiar.

While she likely wasn’t going to be strapped to a chair and questioned, nor any additional family executed to try and break her, the entire affair felt far too familiar already. Her loyalty to Starfleet was being challenged, and now she would have to defend herself. Much like on the Warbird, she felt she was going to do so largely by herself, even after a patented Rita Paris speech to see her off, declaring that she was not alone in this, all of them would be advocating for her throughout this affair, and that she would be fine if she 'just stayed true to herself'.

As the runabout landed on one of the landing pads of Starfleet Command in San Fransisco, Mnhei’sahe didn’t have much of a smile to spare for the massive twin towers with the glittering delta in the center. She had never been particularly fond of Earth in general, and was feeling that even less so at the moment. Given that she was being escorted as she was beamed inside under guard, feeling very much like a prisoner once again.

Beaming into the main lobby was what she expected, but there was a secure beam-in pad on the third floor they directed her landing party to instead. Once arrived, she was walked down the upper corridor, where she could see the main lobby below. Lining the walls on either side were dozens of transporters as visitors and dignitaries beaming in and out with all the hustle and bustle of any large transport hub. As they arrived at the end of the overlooking corridor, there stood an officer with two gold and one black pips on their crimson uniform, with a PaDD in hand, waiting attentively. He was a tall, lean-built human that looked to Mnhei’sahe to be about 45 at the most. His graying, thinning sandy blond hair was brushed over to the side to make it appear more significant than it was, and he looked over the short, slightly portly young woman and her rather large retinue with an unmistakably disapproving eye.

“Good morning, Lieutenant Dox. My name is Lieutenant Commander Percey Garney. I am the Starfleet Legal Council assigned to you by the Judge Advocate General's Office. I will be overseeing your processing, and will be accompanying you to your various debriefings.” The fussy, slightly irritated sounding man said with a sigh, looking as if he would rather be anywhere but where he was at the moment.

He offered no handshake or other hollow pleasantries and Mnhei’sahe’s arms remained folded behind her back as she looked him over with equal levels of judgment as she replied flatly, “Good morning, Lieutenant Commander Garney. Lead the way.”

Behind her, Dox was reasonably certain the Klingon sisters communicated their disapproval in a pair of low, short growls to one another.

From there, she found herself having to deal with a different kind of gauntlet as she was processed through the paperwork and procedures of Starfleet Command. Hours being shuffled from one waiting room to the next, and she had begun to lose track of how many times she had said: “Dox, Mnhei’sahe. Lieutenant, Starfleet. United Federation of Planets. Service Number, SC414339-797064.”

And while most of her meetings would be at the separate Starfleet Intelligence Facility on the edge of the compound, her processing and paperwork was to be filled out here, at Starfleet Command itself. It was for that first meeting that she now had to attend, which she was informed her retinue would not be allowed. As this contradicted their direct orders from their Captain, the Klingon security officers were having none of it until Admiral Meowlith called, identified herself, and directly ordered the two officers to stand down and comply, as she was next in their chain of command. Apparently the 'last lawful order' rule had been suspended in their minds for this occasion, and they were accepting only orders from within their specific chain of command when it came to the Lieutenant's safety.

Which did not earn them nor her any points with the Lieutenant Commander from legal. But it was in unspoken agreement that none of the Hera crew particularly cared about his opinion nor protestations. After hours of signing in, processing, waiting and preparation, Garney lead her to a separate transporter room. As the two of them stepped on, after clearance was granted, they vanished in a sparkle of blue and white to reappear in another closed room somewhere else.

The transporter operators and the guards at the chamber doors were all in the familiar gray uniforms that Mnhei’sahe was accustomed to seeing her mother and the Hera’s Intel Chief, Lieutenant Clemens wear. They were clearly now inside Starfleet Intelligence.

Stepping off the PaDD, Garney gestured for her to wait where she was as he stepped over and showed his paperwork to the two guards, and there was mumbling and whispering that she assumed that they thought she couldn’t hear. Of course, with her remarkably delicate Rihannsu ears, she heard every banal word. It was nothing more than a security check-in handled as if it was the galaxy’s greatest secret, and while Mnhei’sahe had wanted to roll her eyes, she resisted the urge. If she could maintain a blank, emotionless facade with Riov Rendal while imprisoned on a Romulan starship, she could certainly do so here and now.

After a bit more exchange, Garney waved her over, and she followed as he and the two grey-uniformed guards she was now accompanied by, courtesy of Intel, escorted her to a secure turbolift at the end of the somewhat dark corridor outside the transporter room. After a bit of walking through the labyrinthine structure, she was taken to the waiting room of the first set of meetings with the Admiralty.

The Admiral’s office was on the 27th level of the tower with a waiting room overlooking the quad and beyond it, the bay. Mnhei’sahe stood, arms folded behind her back, looking out those large windows as the view of the planet she was trying not to resent being on. At the main door of the waiting room, the two guards stood silently.

On the small couch across from the window’s, Commander Garney sat, ramrod straight, reading through his PaDD, occasionally making light ‘harumphing’ sounds that Mnhei’sahe ignored. Moments later, and right on time, the double doors of the office wooshed open and a young human woman in gold came out with a pleasant smile, “Lieutenant Dox, the Admiral will see you now.”

Turning, Mnhei’sahe returned the pleasant smile, the first she had seen in hours, and nodded. “Thank you.” as she and Garney followed the young woman through a smaller chamber where her administrative desk was and then through another set of doors into the Admiral’s office. The room was fairly large and casually appointed. Very little personal effects save for a few family photos and a couple of potted plants near the edges of the windows behind the desk. The desk itself was large and very well organized. There were three chairs in front of the desk. The center chair was empty, but standing next to the two on either end were two officers in Admiral’s uniforms. And behind the desk, the Admiral in question, standing and waiting with a neutral expression.

"Lieutenant Dox? Let's begin. Why don't you start at the beginning..."

--------------------

Hours later, the day had passed in a flurry of bureaucracy and endless questions, repeated, rephrased, redirected and redacted. Just when Dox felt she couldn't take it anymore, she was released for the day, on her own recognizance. Transported back to Starfleet Command, her two bodyguards snapped to attention, waiting patiently for her- which was impressive for Klingons.

"We are to escort you to an E-tal-e-an restaurant to meet with the Captain and Commander, sir. Are you prepared to travel?" V'Nus asked.

Cracking the first legitimate smile of the day, the fatigued young Lieutenant rolled her neck out which popped a few times as she knitted her eyebrows. "I am beyond prepared, Miss Wil'I'Ams, thank you. And beyond hungry, so Italian actually sounds wonderful. Lead the way, and please, at ease."

Heading to the public transporter pads on the lower level, all three women exited Starfleet Command with as much speed as was reasonable to show. Mnhei'sahe couldn't wait to be done with this for the day and was happy that the Wil'I'ams sisters were there, waiting. And after another twenty minutes involving transfer to a small security shuttle that flew the Lieutenant and her retinue into the glistening lights of San Fransisco, they had arrived.

The extensive debriefings had taken all day and night had fallen before Mnhei'sahe had left the complex and the city looked more inviting to her than it ever had before as the shuttle dropped them off. Walking the rest of the way, the trio turned more than a few heads as they approached their destination. A Romulan flanked by two Klingons, all in Starfleet uniforms was not an everyday site, even at the heart of the Federation.

The Klingon sisters lead the way, based on the directions they had been given and before long, they arrived at a small little Italian restaurant called Paisano's. Stepping inside with her security retinue, Mnhei'sahe quickly spotted Commander Paris and Captain Telvan in a booth at the rear of the busy restaurant that smelled heavenly to the hungry woman. Seeing both women, it felt like being rescued all over again as she walked over.

"Miss Dox, glad you could join us," Rita Paris offered with a smile, then she addressed her Security team. "Petty officers, if you would be so kind as to take a seat with appropriate tactical vantage, cover us while we take a meal, please, but we'll need a hint of privacy. We need to be off-duty officers and not sterling examples right now, understood?"

Nodding silently, both sisters scanned the restaurant, each choosing a different spot. Rather than argue, they split up, to better cover more vantage points and be prepared for a situation to arise.

Picking up a slice of fresh-baked bread and smearing butter on it, Paris offered it to the beleaguered pilot. "So how was your first day of retelling the same story a few dozen times?"

Taking the bread offered and trying to not look like she wanted to just snatch it out of her hand, Mnhei'sahe sat down in the free seat and took a bite. As she did, the bread tàsted like the greatest thing ever. "Fvadt. I don't know if that's actually as good as it seems, or if it's just because they skipped lunch."

Taking a moment to savor the piece of delicious bread, Mnhei'sahe answered Rita's question. "It was exactly as thrilling as you would imagine. Nine hours of variations on the same few questions by three Admirals and… honestly… they were less interested in the answers than in how I said them, I think. Three Admirals out of the twelve in total on my schedule."

"Well, you might be surprised by how many of them speak Romulan, so you may want to curtail the casual cursing," Rita offered as practical advice. "When no one understands it, you can get away with it, but for the next few days, just watch yourself, okay? They are looking for the subtlest of cues and clues, so don't give them any. Be yourself, but not THAT much of yourself, understood?"

As she spoke, Rita was already flagging down a waiter, who arrived only to have the order dictated to him in an authoritative no-nonsense style by the ancient astronaut in the out-of-date uniform. Apparently they were eating 'family style' tonight, whatever that meant, but the appetizers arrived immediately- breaded fried cheese with a splash of sauce over the top of them, sprinkled with Parmesan cheese, alongside mushrooms stuffed with a pesto made of olives and goat cheese. A bottle of red wine was delivered, dry port wine that accented the flavors surprisingly well.

Eying the wine but deciding against it even though she knew it was likely synthaholic, Mnhei'sahe stuck with the glass of water the server brought out. Which didn't stop her at all as she dug quite firmly into the appetizers as they arrived. She had smiled nervously and blushed green a bit at Rita's advice as she reminded herself that since the mission, her extremely human Commander and friend now understood and could speak Rihan. She now needed to monitor that particular bad habit a bit more closely.

"I admit, I'm been trying to say as little as is possible beyond directly answering questions. But they did keep angling to get… reactions out of me. Leaning a little heavy on the word 'Romulan' as if they know it bothers me, Juggling between personal and possessive pronouns." Mnhei'sahe replied, taking a bite of the fried cheese and being careful to monitor not only her words, but how she said them. When she had first arrived on earth as a teenager, it had taken her years to learn how to cover-up her accent. But after the last month, it had been leaking back out and she was extremely self-conscious about it, even here with her closest friends.

Taking a moment to collect her thoughts, a luxury she could enjoy here in the presence of friends, the Rihannsu pilot continued. "it was something they did on the Warbird as well. Using "us" versus "them" terminology. On the Warbird they tried to get me to identify with their side and the language leaned that way as a result. Get me to say "we", or "us" when referring to the Rihannsu people as a way of shifting my point of view. Cultural indoctrination."

Taking a sip of water, Mnhei'sahe's tone got a bit more serious. "Here, it was to… provoke. To elicit a reaction, it seemed. They would refer to Starfleet and the Federation using "our" and "we", but use "your" and "yours" when referring to the Star Empire. Every word choice was a test of my loyalties. Which felt… exactly like it did on the Warbird.

"It's very deliberate, and yes, you read it right- they are trying to provoke a reaction out of you," Rita agreed, cutting up one of the stuffed mushrooms and speaking in between bites. "They really want to see you lose your cool and curse them out in Romulan, so they have an excuse. Because this is a series of tests. Loyalty tests, stress tests, tests of the veracity of your stories, tests of your character, tests of your patience. Just remember the game that you're playing, and remember their perspective. They're afraid. You left a dedicated Starfleet officer, and they fear that you've returned a Romulan officer with Starfleet rank, who could do a lot of damage in the right position."

"I've been through it a time or two myself," Rita admitted, pouring a small bit of wine for each of them and handing the glasses around. "Not under the same circumstances, but when we were dealing with Admiral Marcus' legacy, and the Vengeance's sister ship the Conquest. That rogue element inside Starfleet was insidious, and it made everyone who had come in contact with that ideology suspect. Even though we were the ones to take him out, we did it with the help of a Romulan ship and crew, who had even rescued some of our people from the remains of the USS Colombia, we still endured weeks of grilling by Starfleet Intelligence and Starfleet Command. Hell, I had to go through it after my own father kidnapped me and tried to brainwash me. That was fun to rehash for a week."

"The long and short here is, Mnhei'sahe, it isn't personal, and you can NOT take it that way. It might feel like they are the enemy, but they're not. And one day it might very well be you sitting on one of those boards interrogating a junior officer to determine without a shadow of a doubt that their loyalties have not shifted, and that they are just an amazing liar. You are a terrible liar, so you are already ahead of the curve," the cheerful commander chuckled, trying to add a bit of levity. "Just remember they aren't the enemy- they are looking out for Starfleet, and making absolutely certain that when they stamp their approval on your record, that they are absolutely certain you are the same dedicated Starfleet officer who was taken from that restaurant."

At that, Paris looked around, then shook her head. "Which may or may not be the most reassuring thing I've said as we sit having dinner in a civilian restaurant. But this is on Earth, in San Francisco, and we have armed and alert guards watching us, and I don't think this is necessarily the best time nor place for paranoia. Instead... ahhh, here comes the pasta."

Baked ziti layered with ricotta cheese and baked with a hot gooey layer of mozzarella on top, a large bowl of spaghetti with marina sauce, a large bowl of linguine with broccoli and garlic, another of linguini smothered in creamy white alfredo sauce, a side of cheese ravioli, a bowl of linguine in white clam sauce, a bowl of sauteed mussels, along with a large side of meatballs and Italian sausages that had been smothered in tomato gravy all arrived, with large serving utensils to make taking what you wanted from the selection easy.

As the food was delivered, Rita spoke briefly to the waiter, in conspiratorial tones, and discretely ordered for the Klingon sisters who likely had no idea what to eat or even if they were supposed to eat on duty. But their section chief had them covered, and soon both would have a very rare steak on their plates with a side of penne pasta, which would likely make them somewhat less distracted by the food all around them, and suit their dietary preferences.

Smiling, Mnhei’sahe was glad the sisters were there and hoped the duty wasn’t too uncomfortable for them as she spared a glance over her shoulder to their table. Turning back to the table, she nodded slightly and thought about the day from that perspective as she looked at her Commander and her Captain. “I have a hard time imagining ever being in that position, all things considered, where I have the authority to interrogate anyone. But I understand. If the situation were different, I would be suspicious of me too I suppose.”

"Unfortunately, that's the kind of talk I've had to face my entire career and today has been no exception, only in relation to my family, of course," Enalia replied as she finished off a couple of the fried mushrooms and cheese appetizers. "All that talk of inclusivity and openness... But they also want to make sure you're not working against the interests of the Federation, a spy, unloyal, or saints forbid, a filthy pirate sow hidden among the fleeters..."

"Suspicion is one thing, but some of them can take it a bit too far," the spotted captain added as she motioned in the air with a particularly tasty bit of fried cheese on it before eating that too. "But then, that's why they're in the position they're in now, right? Making sure to cross every consonant and dot every vowel."

Looking across at the table, Mnhei’sahe couldn’t help but smile. It felt good to know that she wasn’t alone in that. That both women clearly understood what she was dealing with and had been down very similar roads. But more than that, her smile deepened as she dipped a mushroom in the red sauce and took a bite. She had been on the Hera just a little over a year, but realized that this was the first time she had ever sat with both of the women she so admired quite like this. Together as friends first, and officers second.

Which didn’t stop her from being a little confused as to how to approach the style of the meal as she raised an eyebrow. “Uh, Commander. This is… a lot of food. Is… one thing for each of us? What are we supposed to do here?”

“This is designed so that you can take as little or as much as you want of each dish, experimenting with the variety to find favorites. The style of dining is called ‘family style’, where you just put the food on the table and let everyone sort their own choices and eat as much as they like guilt-free. Because after a grueling day of being grilled on ‘why I disguised myself surgically to appear Romulan if that didn’t figure into the rescue plan’ and ‘why are you out of uniform, Commander’ I felt we could all use some carbs and comfort food. So in the tradition of my people, we bond emotionally over food sharing, as Sonak observes.” Grasping the utensils, Rita began serving piles of pasta onto the plates, breaking the seal on the pristine dishes to follow through and demonstrate what she meant.

“Just… please don’t let this sour you on the fleet, or make you feel singled out,” Rita added as she served them. “This is procedure, and it has been in place for a very long time for some very good reasons. I’m sorry that it feels like you are distrusted, and basically no better off than you were in the hands of the Romulans who kidnapped you. Or that you feel persecuted for being a pirate, and having your lifelong loyalty to that organization questioned by the fleet you joined,” she added, gently trying to rebut the captain’s statement as well. “The fleet has a duty and responsibility to the rest of the fleet, to our crew, and to we ourselves to insure that we truly are fit for duty. So try to bear that in mind.”

In that summation, Rita creatively left out the part where she was apparently under a full investigation, given her extradimensional origins, her peculiar relationship with transporters and her inadvertent connections to the DTI. Here and now, her friends and shipmates needed to hear that their problems were not persecution, but procedure. The last thing she needed was for them to become defensive of Rita herself, which they would if they knew she were under siege. After all, she was a big girl and this wasn’t her first rodeo. Besides, it was fun explaining to admirals that she’d been bounced on the knees of their grandfathers and was more familiar with their careers and habits than their descendants. Not terribly productive, but entraining for her as they worked to discredit her.

In the here and now, though, she shoveled some more pasta on plates to encourage her alien friends not to be shy, and did what she could to put them both at ease. It was practically impossible not to feel defensive when one was being debriefed at this level, but she had to try. Negative attitudes would be entirely counterproductive to the process, and she needed them calm and centered for the ordeal. Thus, hearty Earth girl food was the best remedy she had to offer… combined with her patented cracker-barrel philosophy.

Looking over everything, the salty mussels caught Mnhei’sahe’s nose and her attention as she looked them over, putting a scoop of them on her own plate to try, doing her level best not to dwell on the negative and take Rita’s words to heart. “Well… I had no idea I’d like sushi until I tried it, so here goes.” Taking a minute to look over the shelled mollusks, Mnhei’sahe eventually figured out how to get one out of the shell and onto her fork as she took a bite. As she did, her eyebrows went up with a slight smile. “Mmm, this is… I like these. I’ll have to get the recipe for the Replicator, or tell Mona about… whatever these are.”

Changing the subject slightly, Mnhei’sahe took another bite and continued, “So, did anyone else have a legal aide from the JAG office assigned to them?” She was curious, but also noticed that Rita was not mentioning her own day and wanted to feel around before prying.

“Not me,” the blonde bombshell admitted. “I suspect DTI is going to show up like an unwelcome visitor at some point, given the three-hour explanation I had on extrapolations of interdimensional metaphysics and relative timeflow. The snorts of disbelief and skeptical scoffing quieted down when I presented my EVA armor’s logs as evidence of a few of the encounters I’d used it in on Kathoom, along with some of the exotic mineral samples I brought back with me that my suit’s scanners couldn’t identify. After that they seemed to be a little more inclined to believe that I’m not a very detail-oriented delusional.” Scooping out some of the linguine in white clam sauce, the savory scent made Rita’s mouth water as she offered sample size bowls to her shipmates before taking the rest of the large bowl for herself.

“As much as they’d like to dismiss my experiences and adventures, I think I may have changed their definition of ‘impossible’ to merely ‘improbable’ when it comes to ‘why Rita shouldn’t be beamed at Warp 9.2’. So I’m giving thanks to Professor Gill, who taught us back at the Academy that history is written by the winners, unless there is appropriate documentation to prove otherwise.” Rita chuckled at her own joke before spinning a fork in the pasta and taking a rather oversized bite, savoring the warmth and the flavor as she relaxed and sighed contentedly.

“Well, you’re not missing out on anything if the wonderful disposition of my legal aide is any indication." Mnhei’sahe chuckled, digging into her smaller bowl of the linguine and taking a fairly big bite as she continued, "What about you, Captain? Anyone from the JAG office assigned to you?”

Enalia could barely keep from groaning in delight as she first sampled each of the dishes on the table, then in dismay as she thought back at the day she'd gone though. "Three of them, and a call from you know who the umpteenth with a request to take up your whole day and scan the Hera's transporter systems. I told him to schedule it through Yeoman Dedjoy. At least she has the patience to listen to him fin-ish... his... sen... ten... cessssuh...."

Knitting her eyebrows quizzically, Dox tilted her head as she sampled the Alfredo. She, in fact, did not know the 'who' in question was in this case. "Uh... Who are we talking about?" She asked slightly awkwardly

"Agent Alden Engstrom the Thirteenth, Director of Classified Investigations at DTI. Hope that you never have to meet him," Enalia explained before poking some Italian sausage into her mouth and savoring the flavor.

"DTI? Ahh, the Department of Temporal Investigations. Right." Mnhei'sahe said nervously, skirting around the fact that when the crew of the Hera went back in time a week prior to Earth's official First Contact, she had been outed as an Alien in full view of dozens of humans.

“Don’t listen to her, he’s a delight!” Rita giggled, fetching a garlic knot from the freshly delivered basket and tearing it open, savoring the scent. “Imagine if your most boring professor at the Academy took downers and sucked on a lemon, then shoved it up his rear. That basically sums him up. Yeah, I expect he and I will get to have a wonderful discussion again, though likely not on the roof of Starfleet Command this time. I guess with officers like me whose existence violates laws of time, space and existence, we must cause him an enormous pile of paperwork. So I don’t imagine he’s very fond of me, for good reasons. Yet he’ll likely follow up with an innnnnnter-view, because he wants… to know… preCISE..ly… how… I accomplished… my latest…” Rita paused for a full four count before finishing with, “Misadventuuuuure…”

"He's all yours then," replied Enalia, stifling a giggle. "I have enough on my plate since the admiralty chose to interrogate me about the tribunal now as well, which is where the third lawyer comes in."

Letting out an overly knowing chuckle, having spent hours assisting Death herself in re-writing the fates of lives that were originally set to end if not for Rita's actions changing their fate, Mnhei'sahe shook her head and sighed. "I suppose we all have a few… interesting days to look forward to. They're all making up for lost time, it seems."

"Oh, come on now, ladies. We're on Earth! My home planet, hell, my home town! I mean, a lot has changed in 130 years one universe over... like the city not having a mammoth starship plow into it 132 years ago..." Rita paused to frown at that memory, the quickly brightened up again, then raised her wine glass.

"Here's to us, ladies. We've good careers on a good starship, with a damn fine crew, answering to an admiral who covers our backsides while we do the improbable. Sure, we're answering a lot of questions now, but the innocent have nothing to hide. So this too shall pass," Rita let slip a sly smile. "What will not pass is that we're here at the center of it all, Starfleet Command, the seat of the Federation, the great melting pot that we preach to the rest of the galaxy seen in living, breathing action. Look around. You'd be hard-pressed to find another Earth native human here, although I would wager some of the other races might have been born on Earth. It works... this great galactic belief that we can all get along, and celebrate one another."

At that, Rita raised her glass in salute to the Klingons, who vigilantly noticed, exchanged a glance then raised their own glasses of water in return, and chugged them like Bloodwine. It was unclear if they had heard their Commander, but they clearly recognized the intent of the salute of raising one's glass to another. The Commander honored them, so of course they showed her honor in return- two very different cultures, that could still be easily understood one a very basic level. "What brings us together are our similarities, but our unique characteristics enrich us all. Infinite diversity in infinite combinations, as the wise man says."

"So the pirate princess, the sensitive Romulan and the throwback are all here together today. Collected here on terra firma. Shipmates who became friends, who became family who'd walk through fire for one another. We're none of us alone, and our families are growing. On that starship of secrets and wonders out there, exploring the galaxy one trouble spot at a time... our home." Rita eyed both women in turn, then lit up that thousand-watt smile that warmed the hearts of those who witnessed it- a radiant, genuinely happy smile.

"They can probe us and question us and try to trip us up, but we're the ladies of the Hera. Officers all, and heroes twice over again. Here's to us, my band of sisters." Having held her drink up all this time, Rita gestured with it, teasingly indicating this was the time to toast.

On her face there was an awkward but sincere smile as Mnhei'sahe lifted her glass. Among the friends that not only never judged her for her heritage, but helped her embrace it for herself… she gave a toast of her own which she hoped would say what she was thinking about them all in that moment: "Ih na shikaen mnean'khruae, aeu solaere mnevher'khruae mnei'dhaile."

Then, even knowing they both now knew the language, with a deep smile, she repeated herself in Federation standard: "To the family we discover, that helps us discover ourselves."

With her usual grin, Enalia too raised her glass in a toast. "To friends that remind us of the song in our hearts, when we ourselves forget the words. They are the truest form of family."

The glasses clinked together, and in the old Earth tradition shared by many cultures across the stars, the pact was sealed. Their lives would take them in different directions, and they would not always be together as they were here and now. But in their hearts, each would carry some of the other with them, as family forged amongst the stars.

 

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