Star Trek: Terra Alpha

Órlaith stepped cautiously into the Naval recruitment office located downtown Capital City. She'd left Clint and Salene a vague not thanking them for their help, and now it was time she stood on her own.

"Can I help you?" A man sitting behind a desk asked without looking up from his work. He was handsome with a square jaw, close cropped sandy blonde hair, and peirceing green eyes. He wore the striped of a Cheif Petty Officer in his sleeve.

"I... well, I wish to join," Órlaith replied meekly.

"Well, that's often why kids like you walk in here." He finally looked up. His expression suggested that he recognized her, but didn't know who she was. "You look familiar. What's your name miss?"

She hesitated for only a second. "Órlaith O'Shea," she stated using her grandmother's maden name.

"That's an unusual name Ms. O'Shea."

"It's Irish," Órlaith replied.

"So, I gathered, but you don't sound Irish."

"My parents grew up in North America. My mom's the one with the Irish background. She never married my dad, but he's Polish."

"Not an unheard of story," the recruiter replied with an extended hand, "CPO Gary Simmons. Have a seat." They shook hands and they both took seats. "Tell me about yourself. How old are you? Why do you want to join?"

"Nineteen," She lied. "And I want to join, because the Ajem'dasis are an existential threat to the peace and security of the galaxy."

Simmons chuckled, "I wasn't looking for a recruitment slogan. Why do you, Órlaith O'Shea, want to join the military."

Órlaith stared at him confused. "That is why. The Ajem are evil. I know that now. They must be destroyed, and it would be irresponsible for me to sit safe and comfortable with friends while my... while Dominus and Bellitrix remain unopposed. Do you know what the Ajem'dasis are capable of?"

"I have heard the stories," Simmons replied with a nod. "Sounds like a bunch of hocus-pocus to me."

"It isn't," Órlaith replied coldly. Her tone stopped Simmons in his smirk.

"Okay. Well, do you have a high school diploma?"

"No. I never went to school."

"Well, you are obviously very intelligent. You have a vocabulary beyond most of those that walk through those doors. Did you have any kind of formal education?"

"I did. In addition to my combat training there was math, history, science, and language arts."

"Well, no matter. We have a test all recruits take. It helps us place you into the Navy. If you get a high enough score we can probably get you a waiver for the diploma. If not this office will help you get your GED. Does that sound like a plan?"

She nodded.

<Three hours>

Simmons returned with the results of Órlaith's placement test shaking his head. "You got 90 on your exam."

"Is that not good? Should I take it again?"

Simmons chuckled, "Is that good? Yeah, that's good. Minimum score is a 40, so yeah you know your stuff. Okay let's get you signed up."

-The Blue Parrot, Capital City
-8 weeks later


It was tradition, Crewman Órlaith O'Shea told herself as she adjusted her dress uniform, and pulled the heavy wooden door to The Blue Parrot. It was a typical dive bar not far from Camp Grant.

The air was thick with cigar smoke, and the roar of the patrons was almost too loud, as a live local band, that was too loud in the back of the bar. Everywhere there were Navy and and Marine uniforms and not a single officer in sight.

Spotting some familiar faces she, pushed, dodged, and tiptoed her way across the room to the bar. "Hey," she shourted to the assembly of five nearly identically dressed patrons.

Lola set her cocktail down to hug Órlaith, "You made it!" Lola Studebaker stood barely at Órlaith's shoulders at 4'11, and she was equally petite and skinny. Her black hair was pulled neatly into a regulation bun setting off her Germanic features and pale skin.

"Yeah," Órlaith laughed nervously.

"Did you bring it?" Lola demanded.

"Yeah." Órlaith pulled out a white envelope from the inside pocket of her uniform jacket and showed it to her friend.

They all opened their envelopes, which contained their first assignments. Órlaith was the last to open hers, and she blinked at the three words printed on it, T.A.S. Kitea, Security.

-The Blue Parrot, Capital City
-8 weeks later


It was tradition, Crewman Órlaith O'Shea told herself as she adjusted her dress uniform, and pulled the heavy wooden door to The Blue Parrot. It was a typical dive bar not far from Camp Grant.

The air was thick with cigar smoke, and the roar of the patrons was almost too loud, as a live local band, that was too loud in the back of the bar. Everywhere there were Navy and and Marine uniforms and not a single officer in sight.

Spotting some familiar faces she, pushed, dodged, and tiptoed her way across the room to the bar. "Hey," she shourted to the assembly of five nearly identically dressed patrons.

Lola set her cocktail down to hug Órlaith, "You made it!" Lola Studebaker stood barely at Órlaith's shoulders at 4'11, and she was equally petite and skinny. Her black hair was pulled neatly into a regulation bun setting off her Germanic features and pale skin.

"Yeah," Órlaith laughed nervously.

"Did you bring it?" Lola demanded.

"Yeah." Órlaith pulled out a white envelope from the inside pocket of her uniform jacket and showed it to her friend.

They all opened their envelopes, which contained their first assignments. Órlaith was the last to open hers, and she blinked at the three words printed on it, T.A.S. Kitea, Security.

Lana was on stage with the band, their usual keyboard player was out sick, so they called her in. Normally she enjoyed playing with others, but there was something about this band that gave her an uneasy feeling. Her moms had taught her enough martial arts to defend herself and she had a small stun phaser in a pocket of her thigh high boot and the chopsticks in her hair were sharp enough to hurt if she used them offensively. But the bassist kept looking at her.

After finishing up the set and fully convinced these guys would never make it past the bar scene, she did her bow and went off stage. Just as she was picking up her purse from behind a speaker, she felt a hand on her butt.

"You did great up there Lana... wanna come to the back with me and the boys and hang out?" the bassist said with a heavy drawl.

"I really need to use the ladies room first..." Lana said and gave her sweet, yet fake smile.

"I can escort you... is is a rough place." he said with a tone of mock chivalry.

"I'm a big girl, I can find my way." Lana said and quickly scanned the crowd of cadets, looking for someone that would have security or tactical training and was female. Then she saw Orlaith. She recognized her from when Clint had brought her and the kids around to a little shindig the First Lady had held.

Briskly walking toward Orlaith and her group of cadets, she waved. "Orlaith! There you are... was looking all over for you." she smiled and looked at her friends. "Oh first assignment envelopes. Hey... I know this is entirely a girl thing, but..." she gestured to the guy following her. "I could use an escort to the bathroom." she whispered and looked between Orlaith and her friend. "I really don't like the vibe I'm getting from him... I don't know why I took this gig tonight..."

Órlaith's face fell and there was a bit of panic cross her face. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and stuffed the assignment letter into her jacket. "Hi Lana. Yes, we just graduated today. May I introduce you to Crewmen Apprentices Lola Studebaker, Gary Douglas, Chad King, and Crewman Lucy Chin. Guys this is Lana Ryder... our parents knew each other."

"I thought you said your parents were dead?" Lola said hopping off her bar stool to look Lana over. Lana towered over Lola. "Ryder as in the former president Ryder?

"My grandfather." Lana said with a smile as she looked at Lola. "My mom used to have the job that her foster dad Clint has, Naval Intel Director. She retired and became a musician and now she's VP of ARS Shipping... since she kinda forbid me to get into the military, I jumped in with both feet into music. Which unfortunately gives me some unwanted attention." she glanced at the guy she was trying to duck. "Safety in numbers? I'm trying to be the big girl and not just call my moms for help... "

"Well, let's have a conversation with your friend," Órlaith said standing.

'You want us to come Ori?" Gary asked with his pint of ale still in his hand.

"No, let's not show all of our hand just yet. Come Lana there's no need to get your parents down here." A few steps away from her group Órlaith leaned in conspiratorially, "They don't know who I am."

"Well as far as anyone else is concerned you're just another of Isabella Price's orphans that got taken in by her dad and his girlfriend." Lana whispered. "And... thank you... I've usually got a friend of someone else from the Mata Haris with me when I take these outside gigs, but no one was available. I'll pick up the tab for you and your friends. So hey... where'd you get assigned? Couple of really hunky guys in the front were getting the Tigris-A. Be sorta cool to serve there, just because that's where grandpa made his mark on the original."

"Some ship called the Kitea," she said with a shrug.

Lana chuckled. "No way... seriously? Aunt Angel's ship? Oh that's going to be a blast. Mom and I perform for their crew all the time, usually Aunt Angel joins in on guitar and let's Aunt Aimee take a break. You're going to have so much fun on that ship, and it's huuuuuuuge. I mean like not Erebus huge but it's massive. Sciences, engineering stuff, tactical... whatever you're into they have tons of stuff to keep you busy. Her crew really love serving on there. Most of the time there's a waiting list, but they did just have a couple hundred rotate off because she'll be a bit closer since she's like almost due to have twins and she's got a bunch of ships to finish so Kitea will be closer to home, but still... you're gonna see some action."