Ad Astra :: Star Trek Fanfiction Archive ^{Beam me up, Scotty.}

Chapter Text

“I’ll be there for the wedding, but I won’t make tonight’s party,” Demora Sulu said regretfully.

Nandi Trujillo observed her friend on the computer display via the subspace link. “I understand, I’m just happy you’ll be here for the service. How’s your ship faring post-refit?”

Sulu smiled. “Yorktown’s now faster, tougher, and her sensor capacity has been nearly doubled. It wasn’t too hard to convince Command to let me stretch her legs and conduct speed trials out to Starbase 443 and back. Given the speed we're holding at present, I don't think we'll have any issues getting out to the Picon-Synadon Cluster. Hell, they're even talking about adjusting the warp speed scale to accommodate the velocities some of our ships have been achieving."

"No issues coming all the way out here for someone's personal event?" Trujillo queried.

"I may have neglected to mention the wedding to them,” Sulu answered, smirking.

Trujillo laughed lightly. “I could have always tried pulling some strings with Saavik to get you out here if that hadn't worked.”

Trujillo would have had to have been blind not to see the change in Sulu’s demeanor at the mention of the admiral’s name.

“About that, Nandi… are you sure you want to hitch your wagon to that particular horse?”

Trujillo appeared genuinely surprised. “To… Saavik? What do you mean?”

“You’ve as much as admitted that she greased the skids for you with the board of inquiry before promoting you. You’re politically beholden to her now; your career is in her hands. You’d talked about trying to expand your horizons, shift into exploration from defense. I’d hoped you’d try to find a way to join this latest exploratory push.”

Nandi’s expression grew troubled. “I… I tried, I really did. They’d had Reykjavík on sensor-picket duty for months before this thing with the Klingons kicked off. I was bored to tears. It’s one of the reasons I pushed Markopoulos so hard about assembling a task force to go after those Klingon raiding parties. I’m a soldier, Demora, always have been.”

Sulu nodded understandingly. “I know, and there’s no shame in being what you are.” She shifted uneasily. “It’s just that Saavik’s been throwing her weight around recently. I’m no fan of Markopoulos by any stretch, but for her to banish him to Logistics Command for a plan she signed off on? And now she’s assembling this… I’m not sure what to call it… not a cabal, exactly—”

Trujillo frowned, cutting in, “Are you referring to a group of professional, defense-minded leaders interested in preserving the integrity of the Federation?”

Sulu sighed at Trujillo’s intransigence. “Leaders who owe a great deal of personal loyalty to Saavik, to the degree it might be perceived by some as outweighing their loyalty to the service.”

“I know where my loyalties lay, Demora. Can we please change the subject?”

Sulu raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry for getting us off topic. How go the arrangements?”

“They go well. We’re looking at venues tomorrow, and tonight, of course, is the party. We’re also commemorating Glal’s retirement and my helmsman’s promotion to JG tonight, so it’s a multi-celebration.”

“I’m sorry I’m missing it, but Yorktown will be there day-after-tomorrow. Give that crusty old Tellarite my love and congratulations on a well-deserved retirement and say ‘hi’ to Gael for me.”

“I will. We anxiously await your arrival.”

“One last thing, Nandi…”

Trujillo had been on the cusp of toggling off her screen. “Yes?”

“That science officer of yours, Garrett… remember when you promised to return the favor some day when I let you steal Glal away from me on Cumberland?”

Trujillo sighed loudly, dipping her head in resignation. "I'm not saying it isn't possible, but that's going to be touchy, given how she came onboard..."

* * *

“We boast an intercultural center which can be modified to host any of hundreds of socio-religious events and can support crowd sizes of well over a thousand,” the host announced.

The cavernous space appeared strangely modular, revealing its ability to conform to a wide range of demands. It was the largest such venue on the starbase.

Trujillo and Jarrod inspected the location as their entourage, consisting of Glal, Rachel Garrett and Dr. Bennett, clustered together near the entrance.

Bennett looked toward Garrett, who had a pale, sickly pallor. “You sure I can’t give you something? You needn’t suffer.”

The ensign had survived a combined pre-wedding party, retirement and promotion celebration the night before, though only just.

“I shouldn’t cheat my way around what I’ve done,” she replied forlornly.

Glal snorted, “You got drunk, kid. It’s not like you gave up state secrets to the Orions. By the Great Hoof, let the man give you something to take the edge off.”

Garrett nodded reluctantly, and Bennett handed Glal his cup of coffee to hold as he produced a hypospray from a pocket that he’d evidently brought along for just this opportunity. The device hissed softly at her neck, and after just a few moments the young woman began to look significantly improved.

Bennett gestured to the water bottle Garrett carried with her. “Keep drinking water, you’re still dehydrated.”

Garrett nodded silently and wandered off to inspect a collection of exotic plants nearby.

The physician sidled up next to Glal, whispering conspiratorially. “What’s going on with her and Naifeh? This morning at breakfast those two would barely look at one another.”

Glal snorted again, then glanced over his shoulder to assess that Garrett wasn’t within earshot. “Those two staggered off together at the end of the party last night. I believe you Humans refer to this as, ‘morning after regrets.’”

Bennett looked surprised. “Oh! I hadn’t realized.” He shook his head, chuckling. “I’ve never seen any hint of anything between the two.”

Glal offered the Tellarite variant of a shrug. “Two young people, presumably attractive by Human standards, add some alcohol and the erosion of inhibitions…”

“Oh, yes,” Bennett agreed before taking a sip from his cup of coffee. “I too was young once.”

The two looked around just as Trujillo, Jarrod, and the venue director returned. All three were smiling.

“It’s a lock,” Jarrod said. “We have our location.”

The others gave a subdued cheer, courtesy of the previous night’s festivities.

* * *