Realigned Misconceptions

Posted on Tue Jul 24th, 2018 @ 2:00am by Captain Enalia Telvan & Maica III 47 & Commander Rita Paris

Mission: Holographic Horrors
Location: USS Hera, Deck 8, Captain Telvan's quarters
Timeline: Shortly before arriving at the Artan Family Orbital Fortress

Maica wiggled in Enalia's lap again as they snuggled in the remains of the tribble eaten couch in her quarters. "You obviously made her uncomfortable. You need to apologize immediately." They were a few hours from the orbital fortress and while Maica had certainly been jealous that Enalia had seen another woman naked, she was more upset that Rita was apparently upset by this.

"Yeah, neither of us have brought it up, but I think she's avoiding me now and even Thex says she's been worried about it." Sighing lightly, Enalia set aside her cocoa and called out. "Computer, please inform Lieutenant Rita Paris I need to speak with her as soon as possible."

With an acknowledgement chirp, the computer replied after a slight pause. "Message delivered."



=^=Captain Telvan needs to speak with you as soon as possible=^= the computer's voice intoned.

When the comm chirruped in her quarters, Rita jumped a bit. Then ice water ran down her back, and a pit opened up in her stomach. Shit shit shit shit shit...! She'd been erasing her searches and keeping everything on one PaDD to try to cover her tracks. Not that she figured anyone would bother looking to see what dumb ol' Rita was reading now. Why don't you know the history of the Trill yet? How can you be so culturally ignorant as to not understand the plumage display of the Miradonians? What do you mean, what's a Ferengi? But if the captain had tumbled to what she was up to, being hauled away and sold by pirates might sound appealing by comparison. Or it could just be the next move in whatever dance the spotted starfarer was doing with Rita, which was only mildly less anxiety inducing.

As that pit in her gut yawned a bit wider at the anticipation of what could or might be to come, Rita cleared her throat. Fight or flight practically had the needle buried on flight, but she could choose not to be a slave to her fears. Dr. Pinderschloss had taught her that back at Starfleet Psych, and it had stayed with her all these years. Of course, Sonak had taught her that her fear was often what kept both of them and sometimes the entire crew alive. Fear was also healthy and natural.

The hard-luck heroine plucked her old clamshell communicator up from out of the clutter. Her desktop was covered with PaDDs and flimsies of duty rosters, reports, requisitions, discipline, inspections, maintenance reports, flight logs. Being a chief meant a lot of paperwork. But since coming aboard the Hera it was the one thing that really hadn't changed much at all, and Rita could keep up with it all easily. So long as no one ever inspected the location where she was working, as it was always organized chaos. Mona Gonadie had thrown her out of the flight control office because she had made it fail inspection twice, which was a bad reflection on the department. So now she did most of the pencil pushing in her quarters, although on the exact same style conference table she used to have in her office, as well as the same crummy plastic chairs.

Deep breaths. Soldier up, little girl! The memory of her father's voice startled the career fleeter, yet still motivated her.

Flipping open the archaic communications device that was less than a month old, she tuned it to boost the output out of old habit. Clearing her throat again, the neurotic navigator worked to keep her voice steady and professional.

=^=Paris to Captain Telvan. You need to speak with me, ma'am?=^=

Enalia was quick to reply. "I do. We need to discuss what happened in my quarters the other day and clear up any misunderstandings. Also, I'd like your feedback on something, if you don't mind."

Panic reigned as the forceful statement came through, and a dozen panicked questions cropped up in Rita Paris' mind. Fortunately, the one that was relevant to the conversation was the one that made it out of her mouth. "Ah, yes ma'am." Are we going to have this conversation over the comms? That's not... crap, focus, Rita! "Would, ah, should I meet you in your ready room, ma'am?"

"Actually I'm in the ruins of my quarters right now with my wife..." Enalia replied sheepishly. "But wherever is comfortable for you is fine for me. Is there some place you'd prefer to talk?"

Somewhere NOT in your quarters with your wife? "We, ah, we could meet in my office, flight control?" Rita suggested. That's got a few exits, and it can be private but still the windows to the flight deck... that's a good choice, even if it isn't neutral ground. Hell, it's her ship there IS no neutral ground.

"Sounds good to me," the captain replied, standing and wondering if she should bring a gift as a peace offering. "I'll meet you there in a few minutes. Enalia out."

Staring at her communicator for a few seconds, Paris' brow furrowed and her mouth turned in a frown. "Enalia? Who's Enal-oh. That's her first name. I should try that- Rita out!" Looking askew, she shook her head. "Nope."

Diving through a fast sonic shower and into a freshly replicated uniform, Rita engaged in the ongoing struggle she had getting her comm badge off her old uniforms. 13 seconds this time- she had taken to timing herself to challenge herself, and that wasn't a great time, but it wasn't the worst. Running her fingers through her hair, she had to admit the black leggings were a nice accent to the minidress, the captain had been right. Gigline straight, uniform pressed and snugly fitted, Rita grabbed the clamshell communicator off her desk, clipped it to the loop on the back of her uniform and pointed herself out the door.

Off to the Jeffries tubes. Rita needed the cardio and they were a good place to collect your thoughts.

Enalia had beaten Rita to her office and had decided to wait for her inside in the guest chair. Rather than the 'evil looking' starfleet uniform, she had donned a somewhat asian looking neon green pants suit for the occasion hoping it would look a bit more bright and cheery to her. In her own family wearing green like this often meant good news and festivities, though she doubted Rita would get that reference. At least she knew that Mona would be on the bridge until they docked at the Artan Family Orbital Fortress. They'd have the office all to themselves just to talk.

Approaching the flight control office, Rita focused on even breathing and staying calm. Maybe she figured out that you are crazy uncomfortable? Thex wouldn't have talked to her, she practically turned purple when I brought it up. Maybe she wants to outline rules for a scene or explain the ground rules she has for threesomes? The unknown could wind Rita up faster than any actual problem, and with all of her other issues she was one step shy of just seeing if she could hide out until the Hera docked. But a summons from the captain was a summons from the captain no matter who it was, and Rita was nothing if not a Starfleet officer. The fleet might not work the same way here, but that didn't mean she had to compromise her ethics.

Entering the office that was bigger than four of her old quarters, Paris noticed the causal clothes, which might be good or bad. Reflexively she started to come to attention and report, then she remembered that she wasn't supposed to do that to the captain, so instead she shuffled a bit awkwardly. "You, ah, needed to see me, ma'am?"

"Ah, yeah..." Enalia stood back up and took a step back. "Please, this is your office. I'm sorry for intruding. I wanted to apologize for the other day. I said some things I shouldn't have. I'm sorry." The captain then bowed deeply, her hands on her thighs. "Please forgive my transgressions."

"It's your, uhm, your ship, ma'am..." Rita started, then stopped as she processed all of that. She very much didn't want to embarrass the captain nor denigrate her apology, but she also wanted to make sure they were talking about the same thing. After all, communication was key in moments like these. "Not to be coy, but what, ah, things... were those, ma'am?"

Not rising, Enalia explained. "Pretty much everything I said while we were naked. I shouldn't have come on to you like that at all. I should have been much more mindful of your culture and held my tongue. I should have also done better to help you clothe yourself and not given you random things from my wife's wardrobe. I need to maintain my cultural awareness and professionalism even in such conditions and I did not. For that I humbly apologize. Also, thank you for rescuing me." With that, she deepened her bow even further, bringing her body past ninety degrees with her legs.

"Oh, ma'am, that's..." Paris bowed in return, recalling that was proper etiquette in such cases. "I humbly accept your gracious apology, Captain. It did... I've been... it's, um, been... worrying me? I mean I am flattered and all but I... I don't know you at all and I just, I mean, I was in a bonded relationship until a few weeks ago and I, it's not that you aren't very attractive, ma'am, or, or your wife, it just... I wasn't... I'm not..." Paris was obviously relieved, but flustered practically to the point of tears. The amount this had been weighing on her was readily evident, and she was nervously babbling out her stream of thought. "Oh, and you're welcome? It was, I mean, it was the right thing to do. Right?"

With relief spread across her face, Enalia stood back up and smiled. "Yeah, thank you. It wasn't right of me at all."

"Sooooo... is this maybe a good moment to ask you about a few things that have me concerned, ma'am?" Paris asked hesitantly. It seemed like they were communicating, and the captain seemed to understand why she was so worked up, so maybe now was a good time to address a few other issues. What the hell, she can only clap me in irons, right??

"Please, feel free to ask me anything at all. I'll answer anything to the best of my ability."

"Okay... okay," Paris moved around to park her miniskirted rear against the edge of her desk, gripping the edge of it with a bit too much white-knuckle force to sell her casual pose. It was something she did often when nervous or insecure- years of being unable to touch anything had left her very grabby in a crisis. "So the, um, you mentioned that you don't really answer to Starfleet, and that they can't really enforce anything on you. And that you have a whole space station and pirate troops and a fleet. And the first night I was here you practically offered me a commission in your pirate fleet. So it... I have been confused, are you a pirate or Starfleet, ma'am? Because, see, I'm Starfleet... it's kind of all I have left, and I do have to obey the rules and regulations. So serving under a captain who doesn't makes me feel like... like I am not really in Starfleet? Does any of that make sense?"

Enalia sat back down in the guest chair and thought over how best to explain it. "No... I'm definitely Starfleet. I answer to Starfleet Intel Command currently. I do have some extra leeway with command because of my family ties, but overall I'm a blue blooded fleeter just like you. As for my family, under the Financial Divestment Agreement, since my mother has retired and there are no other surviving members of my family, I've named Captain Magnus as head of the Artan Family until I retire from Starfleet. I would introduce you to him when we arrive, but I'm told most of the fleet have been mobilized to clear out some sort of Syndicate scheme. They've been a bit more active in Federation space and... And I'm sure that's not very reassuring, is it?" Smiling weakly, Enalia nodded. "Yeah normal people would be scared to death of me, wouldn't they?"

"Um, no, it is, I wouldn't... ah..." Paris couldn't lie, much to her chagrin. "I'm normal people, ma'am. I may have been a little bit worried about turning down your offer because of the impression that you were independent, and we're headed for your personal pirate space station which I assumed put you even further from any sort of restraint, and... I have been a little, um... " Paris cast about for a good word that wasn't 'terrified'. Lamely, all she could come up with as a vast understatement was, "Anxious?"

Enalia chuckled and pointed to Rita's white knuckled grip on the edge of her desk. "I'd say scared is the word you're looking for. You're going to break your desk if you keep that up. Please, relax. I'm not going to kill, kidnap, rape, or force you to compromise your morals in any way. I may ask you to do some questionable things from time to time, but they'll be handed down from Intel Command and in the best interest of the Federation as a whole. I promise they will not be personal. In fact, when my sister was killed on a mission for Intel, I took a brief leave to deal with it before resuming my duties." With the mention of her sister, Enalia went silent and looked down at her hands laying in her lap. They hadn't been close, but she still had high hopes for her.

"I'm, um, sorry to hear about your sister, ma'am," Rita expressed as she pried her hands loose from the edge of the desk and fidgeted self-consciously. "Thanks for the, ah, reassurance. It wasn't clear, and I was... I didn't really know who to ask. I haven't had a lot of, ah, luck connecting with people here." There was her understatement of the century, particularly when it came to the captain. But the fact that she was taking time to talk to Rita meant a lot, and was putting her more at ease.

"Yeah, I gathered as much. A few reports mentioned your awkwardness. You did very well in getting us out of that storm though." Enalia was still a bit morose with the talk of her family. But at hearing her words, Paris' eyes lit up. A little recognition from the CO went a long way with her- it immediately indicated that she wasn't invisible and that her efforts had not gone unnoticed, which provided enormous validation for her.

"Thank you, Captain."

A deep breath, held for a moment, and Enalia let it out slowly while looking out the panoramic windows into the main shuttle bay. "But hey, everyone that's leapt through time has had difficulty adjusting, right?"

Paris nodded, then replied quietly and earnestly. "I guess so. This is my first time."

Then Enalia dropped a bit of a bombshell. "I probably shouldn't mention this, but Ila's been running some numbers. She thinks that with the power from the fortress we might be able to send a tiny comm device to your time and dimension that we can link with now and then. I'm saying that if it works, you could call home... If you wanted..."

The concept of being able to at least send a message or even talk to home, was an even greater surprise than the displaced damsel had been prepared for, and her eyes welled up with tears. All she managed to squeak out was, "Really?"

"She's been in the quantum miniaturization lab up in the pod for the past few days trying to build a communicator from your time with tech from our time that they can't scan and violate the temporal prime directive on. She says that if it works, she thinks that you can send and receive about six minutes of messages a month. It's not much..." Enalia was still looking out the window as she spoke, but she turned back to look at Rita and sighed. "And I'll probably get in trouble with Command since this will use a lot of our particles for that transporter on what they'll see as a personal project. And I'm sure it'll violate half a dozen protocols on top of that. Oh, and it'll prove to a lot of my detractors that I'm a loose cannon and should be kicked from Starfleet." That lopsided grin of hers started creeping back onto her face. "But I think I have enough commendations and galaxy saving events under my belt to get away with just a few scoldings. Besides, this is how science advances, isn't it? We can learn a lot from this and it's for a good cause so a couple other commands should back me up. What do you say?"

"You'd do all of that for me, Captain?" Paris squeaked out before mopping at the waterworks.

"Barring erasing your memories of the past month or so and finding a way to send you home... Yeah." Enalia resumed her serious look.

There was a moment of contemplation on the part of the buxom blonde bombardier, as she weighed over current events and developments, and internally she came to a decision. "Respectfully? I propose one message, ma'am," she offered. Paris rose to stand, and began taking slow, measured steps.

"Just a message in a bottle to let my command know what happened to me, one last report. They'll know where and when I am, and if they can come find me then we won't have violated anything. Well, whoever shows up will have, but we didn't have a temporal prime directive back in my day. Or dimension."

"If I have the capacity to report in it's my duty to do so, and you are accommodating that in the spirit of Starfleet cooperation. If the fleet says I'm Starfleet, that validates my dimension's Starfleet as well, which means this is a Starfleet joint exercise. That would be my argument to Command, and I don't think it makes you as much of a, uh, cannon." Leave it to the career Starfleet gal who had grown up around senior officers to know how to politic with the brass.

"Besides, I wholeheartedly agree with you, Captain. This is precisely the sort of thing we're out here to discover and explore, to teach to the next generation who will go farther and do it better for what we learned and taught them. Also?" Unclipping the communicator from her belt, the long-lost lieutenant held up her clamshell gold and black communicator. Flipping it open, it chirruped cheerfully.

"We can't violate anything if we send them back their own technology."

The captain nodded thoughtfully. "That would greatly simplify matters. We'll have to run it by Ila and have her go over the new math. If that's what you want though, that's what we'll do."

"Yes ma'am. I'm... I'm here now, and I need to deal with that. If it ever gets too bad I can always try a slingshot maneuver in a shuttlecraft, right?" Rita nervously laughed at her own private joke. Stepping back to her desk, the plucky extradimensional explorer slid her rear up on it, letting her legs dangle over the side. Letting out one very long breath, she looked like the weight of the world had been taken off her shoulders.

"Thank you ma'am. Thank you for figuring out something was wrong and making it right. Thanks for telling me I did good. I needed that. Thanks for being a real Starfleet captain... Captain." Paris smiled a cover girl's perfect balance of expression to sell her point.

"I may have several failings, but I do try to make up for them. I'm just glad I was able to in this case." Then a look of consternation crossed Enalia's face. "As for a slingshot maneuver... The only shuttle we have that might survive one is the Thor and I'm not sure it can carry enough antimatter to make it. On top of that, you would need to do a trans-dimensional transport matched to your original universe's signature and hope there's something at where you transport to. There are easier ways to commit suicide, you know..."

"Just, just kidding ma'am," Paris lied entirely unconvincingly. Then her mouth quirked to the side and she eyed the captain through half-lidded eyes. "If I may, ma'am, I think I know how this happened. It's because I just don't know you- I don't know who you are, what you believe, what you stand for. I've read your service jacket, but that's not who you are, just where you've been and what you've done in Starfleet. I guess... I have a little trouble trusting a commander I don't know. Which I know the Commander would say is unprofessional, because we just obey lawful orders. But the ice has been a little slippery under me for a few weeks, ma'am, if you get my meaning. It'd help if I have somebody to hold onto. Which," Paris balked and held her hands out before her. "I mean, not in a come-on sort of way, just someone I can, ah, believe in?"

Rolling her eyes at her own audible anxiety, Paris flipped her bangs out of her face and pushed her hair back into a pompadour. "I think it's likely we wouldn't have had this problem if maybe I knew a little bit about you? Maybe tell me... about your sister?" The spotted captain had brought her up earlier and it looked like it had bothered her to recall it, so maybe she wanted to talk about her.

"About my sister?" Enalia stared blankly at Rita for a few seconds before looking back down at her hands. "I guess I could." It took her a few more moments and a sigh before she actually spoke though. "As the future head of the family I was raised to be... Formal? A leader? I also started inspecting most of our holdings since I was eight. She was trained more in fleet activities so we didn't really get to see much of each other and when we did, I'm not sure we really got along. When I was kidnapped at the age of fifteen, she was the one that captained the rescue mission. They kept her out of danger and Captain Magnus was there looking over her shoulder, but she made all the plans and decisions. Thirty seven Syndicate pirates were dead by her orders at the age of thirteen. Not long after that I joined the Trill Home Defense Force. I told them it was for experience but I think I was running from her and her resentful eyes."

Enalia paused a moment and wrung her hands a bit before continuing. "I'm sure you don't know anything about Trill society or symbionts or the joining. Suffice it to say that a few hundred thousand of us join with a slug-like creature and it lives in our pouch. Our minds become one and we live until we die while the symbiont goes on to join with a new host with our memories. Family ties and all, I was selected for a symbiont and my mother demanded I take over so she could retire. I refused and ran off to Starfleet. Told her to give it to my sister. I said some unkind words and thought that that would be it."

"It wasn't. It never is. They held the position for me. Yeah, my sister ran about half of things, but apparently she was a bit more ruthless than people liked, there was a bit of a power struggle... She was a fleet captain at the time and Schwein had to put her in her place. All while this is going on, the Federation was still sending them peacekeeping missions to keep other pirates in line like we have been for the past three generations."

"Anyway, things had finally settled down when... My lover from the academy... And our current Intel liaison... Commodore Meowlith... Contracted her for what was supposed to be a simple escort mission to determine if a medical contractor the Federation was about to do business with was actually someone we were investigating for severe eugenics violations or not." Enalia paused a bit longer this time. "He was. Farenia... The Commodore was left barely alive. My sister and her crew were fed to... To his demon dogs..." As Enalia choked out the words, a few tears slipped from her eyes. Though she knew she didn't care for her sister, she was still family and try as she might, it still scarred her deeply.

There was the awkward struggle between propriety and what she thought was right, and as usual, Rita Paris' moral compass called the shots for her. Despite the fact that half an hour ago she was plotting how to escape from the woman, in this moment it was clear that her captain needed support. Sliding off the desk, Paris gingerly reached out to offer the weeping woman a shoulder hug, even as she produced a fresh tissue apparently from somewhere in her bra, to hand to the Trill. "That's horrible, ma'am. I'm sorry, this must be so hard for you..."

Taking the tissue, Enalia stared at it a moment before wiping the tears away. "Thank you... I... Don't tell Schwein I'm not the perfect princess she thinks I am. It might break her heart. At the service I had to be the bastion of matronly duty and honor. Show no emotion and act like an alabaster statue of... But I just wanted to talk with her... Try and work things out one last time..." As more tears fell, Enalia tried to catch them all with the tissue, but she'd lost control of all the feelings she'd been bottling up this whole time. "And then I got scolded by everyone for taking a week off... It's not fair..."

"No ma'am, it most certainly is not," Paris agreed easily, stroking the captain's hair and shifting to turn the shoulder hug into more of a resting on the bosom hug as she settled her rear end onto the arm of the chair. "We all need time to grieve, to process, to scream at the universe for the stinking injustice of it all. It's okay to feel all of those things, ma'am. That's what makes us... people."

"I'm sorry... I just... I'm sorry..." Enalia leaned in a bit and let the tears flow freely now, her hands trying to cover the shame that was her crying face. it felt good but it felt shameful at the same time. For so long she'd not allowed herself to cry and now it all came rushing out. She even gave canned answers during therapy sessions to avoid things like this but something about this temporally and dimensionally displaced traveler opened her up like a can of worms and burnt her down.

"S'okay Cap'n, let it out. Yell if you like, the room's soundproof and no one will hear." Rita boggled at the turn of events as now she comforted the captain. If the woman was a manipulator, she was a master. But the simple truth was that Rita believed her. From what she'd said, it didn't sound like tears were very accepted in the world of piracy. "What was your sister's name, ma'am? You told me the whole story, but you never once mentioned her name. You never do, because it brings it all back, doesn't it? Please tell me her name."

Enalia nodded and tried to compose herself a bit, wiping at her face with the now soaked tissue. "Regina..." She got it out finally. When she spoke again, it was soft and more like a flow of consciousness as she just let the tears flow without even trying to stop them. It was obvious that this was something that she had kept buried deep inside of her for most of her life.

"Regina Artan. Daughter of Havren and Arenara Artan. She looked a bit more like dad. Had his eyes and his spots. Good with a scope too. She was a marksman a year before me. Father was proud of her for that. Mother made me train harder. When I finally mastered all the weapons expected of me, she had already started commanding her first ship. On my first orientation cruise the Syndicate decided it was a good time to attack our territory. I don't remember why, but my father... He gave his life to try to protect me... I couldn't do anything to..."

For a moment Enalia just sat there and let herself cry, her eyes wide yet unseeing as the hot salty tears fell. "When I was finally rescued... I don't think she ever forgave me... I think they both blamed me... I had to get away..."

The comely companion of heroes had begun the conversation wanting to get to know the Hera's commander. And now Rita knew what she suspected few others knew about the Trill captain that had come from pirates and run away to Starfleet. Another time she'd ask about her father, but for now, stroking her hair and holding her gave the pirate princess something to cling to in the squall of emotions Rita had quite accidentally pried loose. But when she had spoken earlier of somebody to hold onto, sometimes that was in the physical sense. She suspected that the captain certainly would understand that now.

Letting the spotted starship commander sob it out for a few more minutes, Rita waited til the storm was beginning to subside a bit, then she gingerly got up. Reassuring with gestures, she went to the sink, grabbed a washcloth from one of the utility drawers, ran it under some cold water and brought it back to the captain, squatting down beside her so as not to be looming over her.

"Here you go, ma'am. Look, I assume when we pull in you have to go be the bastion of matronly duty and honor. That's only a few hours away, and your quarters are debris. Why don't you go grab Mrs. Telvan, and I'll make us all a nice lasagna before we get to port. Then you can use my quarters to get ready since it still has... walls and so forth. We can all talk and clear the air with Mrs. Telvan, because I assume she knew about all of this? You mentioned that honesty was best and she always knows when people are lying So... dinner?" Paris beamed a hopeful smile up at the captain.

Rubbing the washcloth over her face, Enalia did her best to try to get some of her dignity back. She couldn't bring herself to look Rita in the eye though. She felt like she'd lost something, though she knew she hadn't. Maybe she gained something instead? She'd have to think about it. Plenty of time to do that on shore leave as long as the universe didn't decide to try to destroy itself again without the crew of the Hera.

Finishing up with the washcloth, Enalia nodded again with an attempt at a smile. "Okay... Lasagna it is. I'm bringing chocolate though. I have caches all over the ship just in case."

"I could really do with some chocolate after the past few days, ma'am. Hey," Rita reached up to pick the captain's chin up to meet her gaze. "It's okay cap'n. I think it was really brave of you to open up to me like that, and let yourself be vulnerable. It means a lot to me that you trust me that much, and I promise I'll keep your secrets. Unless it violates an order or endangers you or others, anything in confidence is confidential. I promise on my honor as a Starfleet officer."

It might have sounded hokey from most, insincere at best. But while the girl in the old-fashioned uniform genuinely was a terrible liar, the balance of that was that when she spoke from her heart, you could not help but know she spoke the truth. That small encouraging smile was there, and those big baby blue eyes, and as much as she looked the part, she genuinely pontificated like the explorers of her age, those pioneers who braved so much with so little.

Enalia couldn't help but smile at that. Rita really was the model Starfleet recruitment poster right now, and reminded her of all the old holoclips of the 23rd century. In particular... "You kind of remind me of Captain Sonya Alexander. She commanded the USS Ajax during the Four Years War with the Klingons back in your time. I saw quite a few of her recruitment ads growing up."

“Oh, no fair! You even had lady captains back then?!?” Rita pouted slightly. “Growing up, that was my dream- that I’d be the first lady captain of a starship. I met Admiral Archer when I was about eight years old, and when he asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I told him so. He had a good chuckle at that, and gave me an autographed photo made out to “Captain Rita Paris”. I had it on the wall of every quarters or office I ever had, and that drove me for many years. Well, that and that crazy idea that I'd impress my father,” the Starfleet legacy snickered.

"I think our first female Federation Starfleet captain was... The NX-02 USS Columbia, Erika Hernandez." Enalia replied with a few blinks, trying to remember her Academy history lessons. "I think it was also the second official Federation starship as well. Sorry. I guess our history diverged quite a bit."

The pretty pilot’s jaw dropped, then irritation burbled up. “Well that’s a fine how do you do! Hrmph! We had lady admirals, but still no women sitting in the center seat in my universe. And you had them as soon as the second NX hit the spaceways.” Despite herself, Rita chuckled. “Jeez, I guess I just come from the backwater sexist dimension…”

Enalia looked thoughtful for a moment, tapping her chin. "That's odd because I only know of one female admiral before like... Twenty years ago? Hmm... Maybe we're sexist in a different way..."

The change of subject seemed to have gotten the captain’s mind off darker paths, and for her part, Rita Paris was so relieved as to be genuinely happy. She hadn’t realized how many misconceptions and misgivings she had been collecting since the moment she had come aboard the Hera, and to have so much of it taken away in one conversation left her with a mixture of emotions, but the most welcome was relief. Captain Telvan was a person, and a Starfleet captain, and she wasn’t plotting any sort of malice towards the personage of the trapped time traveler. Smoothly rising from the crouch she had been holding beside the captain, the leggy lieutenant rose, then held out her hand.

“C’mon cap’n. Let’s go get your wife, get some hot food in you and get you ready to face your… pirates? Whatever it is, you aren’t alone, ma’am.” She may as well have been talking to herself, but the lost navigator was focused on taking care of the captain, who apparently was not as accustomed to being crippled by her emotions as the passionate Paris.

Taking Rita's hand, Enalia stood with a lopsided grin on her face. "An army of holographic Trill Catgirl Maids and a few retainers, I'm sure. Thank you. For everything. Now let's go get Maica and some chocolates... but not while holding hands. Someone might get the wrong idea." Holding Rita's hand up, Enalia winked and headed for the door, tossing the washcloth into the sink on the way.

"That one's on you."