“Looks like our guest is waking up.” A deep voice floated into André’s ears. He opened his eyes and stared into darkness. Cold metal pressed against his cheek. He didn’t remember lying down, so why was his face pressed into the floor? A throb at the side of his neck reminded him. That woman, who had she been? He tried to lift his arm. Rope dug into his wrists. Where was he? His eyes should have gotten used to the darkness by now, but everything was still pitch black. He blinked. His eyelash scraped across fabric. A blindfold. How had he not noticed the coarse material strapped around his face? The damn thing had even planted an itch on the bridge of his nose. He turned and dragged his face along the ground. The tread plate ripped through his skin, but at least the irritation had gone.
“That’s enough of that.” Fingers dug into his shoulder, and he was hoisted into a sitting position. “I apologise for the lack of a chair, but I couldn’t risk you falling off” The voice was unfamiliar. Its soft velvet tones enthralled André’s ears. It didn’t belong to anyone from the university. Nor to the hand that was pressed into his collar bone.
“Who are you?” André’s attempt at bravado faltered, the quiver in his speech betrayed him. The voice laughed.
“No need to panic my boy.” André wasn’t so sure. His muscles tensed, the grip on his shoulder tightened. “Leena, would you please remove the blindfold?” The cloth was snatched away, and light bathed André’s face once more. His eyes Greedily breathed in the vision that opened up before him. He was in an office, furnished with some of the rarest wood that Earth had left to offer. An enormous oak desk took pride of place in the centre of the room. Behind it sat a withered, spindly gentleman. He peered at André through a monocle. His grey beard tickling the white neck of a Starfleet jacket. His shoulders bore the emblem of the admiralty, and the crest on his officer’s hat marked him as one of the four chief admirals of the fleet. André Had spent his life studying the Starfleet hierarchy, but he did not recognise this man’s face.
“I suppose you’re wondering who I am.” Disorientation must have been plastered across his face. “Admiral Fabio. Head of the fleet’s Icarus Division” His piercing blue eyes bore a hole into André’s soul. Daring him to ask what Icarus was. André stayed silent. “And the charming young lady behind you is Captain Leena Celero.” The rope binding André’s hands fell to the floor. He looked up to see the pink haired woman from the docking bay waving at him.
“Captain?” André’s mouth hit the floor. Leena grinned.
“See, I told you he’d want to join the crew. He’s already calling me captain.” She lifted him to his feet, untying his ankles, and leapt backwards into a leather armchair. André watched, aghast as she swung her legs over the side of the seat. How could this rude, scruffy girl possibly be a Starfleet officer? She had no self-control, no sense of decorum. And to act so uncouthly in the presence of a senior official. He shot a nervous glance towards the Admiral. The old man seemed not to notice her behaviour. His icy stare was still focused upon André.
A shiver ran up his spine. He had been too focused on that vulgar girl. So taken aback by her disrespect that he had allowed his own manners to slip. He bought his hand to his forehead in a formal salute. Almost knocking himself unconscious with the desperate speed of the movement.
“It is an honour to meet you sir!” A moment’s silence followed his words. Time forgot itself. André stood waiting. Hours passed; days rolled onwards. He watched the Admiral’s rage boil over. Heard him shout the order for an execution. Felt himself forced into the guillotine.
“Yes, I’m sure it is.” Reality came back to slap him in the face. Fabio hadn’t moved. “Now, if you’d like to take a seat. We have business to discuss.” André bowed, his enthusiasm almost ripping himself in half.
“Thank you, sir!” Always show gratitude when an officer offers anything. That was correct Starfleet conduct. Whether it’s a sixteen-course meal or a kick in the teeth, always accept graciously. André’s response was flawless. But as he sat, Leena’s sniggering rang in his ears.
“He’s so stiff. Are you sure he’s the right one?” André’s jaw clenched. Nothing would have satisfied him more than to punch her in the smug mouth, but he couldn’t lose his composure. Not in front of the Admiral at least. He bit his cheek and grimaced through her cutting words. “I could never work with someone this stuck up.”
“You will work with whomsoever I choose to give you.” All the softness had vanished. The abrupt slap of his voice stunned Leena into silence, and André felt his heart somersault in celebration. Justice had never tasted sweeter. “Young man. I have been following your progress closely. Your scores over the past six years have been nothing short of remarkable.” André felt himself sitting straighter. Praise from the admiralty was beyond anything he could have hoped for. “We are here to offer you an opportunity. One that it would be most unwise to refuse.”
“I accept!” There was no uncertainty in his voice. This was what André had been waiting for. The old man’s eyes widened.
“Are you sure?” André nodded. “Very well. I trust my latrines will be in good hands.” A mischievous smile curled its way across his lips as André’s face crumpled in confusion. “Not what you expected? Never agree until you’ve seen the contract lad. I expected better from you.” André’s head fell. He had heard enthusiasm was something Starfleet officers looked for. He dwindled under the admiral’s stern gaze, the pride that had been swelling up in him for half a decade deflated. Clearly, he had been wrong. “Chin up lad. The offer will still stand. Be sure you listen to it before making any decisions this time.”