Stardate: Four Score and Seven Years

Posted on Tue 12th Nov, 2024 @ 5:40pm by Commander Heriah Rex & Captain Gordon Francis

2,748 words; about a 14 minute read

Mission: The Phoenix Gamble
Location: Earth
Timeline: Thirty-ish Years Ago

Garantula Rex sat in a far corner of the bar residing at 10 Forward Street in San Francisco. The party had wound down and most of the partiers had their fill and were leaving for the night. Garantula had, not yet, had enough of his Rivals Talanack. It was a stout beer from his homeworld of Trillius Prime. And, somehow, Joined Trill seemed to be able to taste it differently than unjoined Trill. At least, that was the going saying for Joining Trill. Garantula, prior to being joined with the Rex symbiont, felt it was a way to marginalize unjoined Trill. After his joining, he found the saying to be quite accurate. Though it had been some years since he had tried the stuff. It was quite possibly he simply forgot how it tasted those years ago.

Regardless of all that, Garantula was on top of the world. For the party that had wound down was something of a special celebration. The Academy, this cycle, had two valedictorians. Though it looked as though trainee Gordon Francis was going to steal the show, trainee Garantula Rex brought his GPA up in the waning weeks of the cycle in a stunning display. Garan's GPA ended up matching Gordon's up to the time of the final test and, afterward, still matched. Garan and Gordon both scored the same and ended up with identical GPAs to three decimals points. Starfleet Academy had little other choice other than to name them co-valedictorians. Seeing as how Gordon had the higher GPA originally, he was given the honor of the first speech, Garan followed after. Despite that, both of their names would forever be written in the Starfleet Academy Annals as co-valedictorians of that cycle.

Sitting in the far corner, sipping at his beer, Cadet Garantula Rex waved back at the few newly crowned cadets once again giving their congratulations as they filed out. Some of them falling over themselves. Garan was just enjoying his beer and his time in the spotlight. He had to live with co-valedictorian over valedictorian, but that did not matter. Matching another with the highest GPA was still quite honorable and the Trill was soon to be on his way to his first assignment in the field of Command.

Certainly, Gordon was feeling the same elation, Garan felt.

* * * * *

Cadet Gordon Francis hadn't had any elation at all. He had been up all night working on his speech. It baffled him. Garan was smart, yes, but how did he manage to get an identical GPA as Francis? Francis had a reputation for quick thinking, stern mentality, and most importantly, fewer casualties.

Garan was hardly a bookworm. He was charismatic, good-looking, and very popular. Francis wouldn't be surprised if Garan just winged his speech when the time came. He had a knack for doing everything right while looking good. But to Francis, that was it. He simply looked good. Garan had high scores and success rates in the simulators, passing every course. But his statistics were nowhere near as good as Francis'. Yet Garan had the higher "cadet feedback" scores. It seemed cadets preferred to work with the "fun" captain.

In the last year, Francis had found time to make some friends. He was even in a steady relationship with a beautiful young lady named Emily-Rose. Francis had to admit these "distractions" were indeed nice, but he remained a bookworm.

The only explanation, Francis thought, was Rex had been through the Academy before. Garan was a cadet, yes. But he was also a joined Trill, and Trills could live for centuries. Rex had to have played a factor.

Francis scoffed and deleted yet another draft of his speech. He stood and stretched. He'd been sitting at his desk for a long time. He looked over at the untidy side of his dorm and wondered when Garan would be back from his bender.

It took a moment, but a voice boomed in the corridor from down the hall. "Hello, my fellow cadets." The voice seemed to have an unbalanced hint of alcohol to it. "No. No. Hello my fellow trainees."

"Hey Garan," came another voice. "Congrats on valedictorian."

"That is co-valedictorian. And thanks."

"Spider," came a female's voice using his nickname, "got that speech written."

"Written? No. It's all up in here. I do need to write it. Thanks for reminding me."

"I'll see you around sometime Spider."

"You most certainly will."

Garan's voice gave away his position as being right outside the door. He appeared immediately thereafter. "Frank, my friend," he said as he stepped in and stepped over to his side of the room. Garan stepped with care due to his clothes strewn about the place mixed with his slight inebriation. "Big day tomorrow."

"Darn it, Spider," Francis said. "I've been up all night trying to write my speech. All I can think of is 'Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today...' After that it's just a hodge-podge of word salad with bad grammar dressing. Why in Sam Hill do we give speeches? What bit of wisdom do we know that everyone else there doesn't?"

"The wisdom that makes us co-valedictorians and them not," Garan answered, but did not expand. "Here I was hoping your had your speech written. Because I was planning on copying some of yours. So far, yours sounds like a marriage ceremony. Mine...a presidential victory speech."

"A marriage ceremony?" Francis repeated. "Then why does it feel like a eulogy? Maybe if I turned it into a wrestling promo... you know, like in the old days. I could end it with some kind of catchphrase. The Admirals'll think I've lost it..."

"Well this is our...your, I mean, valedictorian speech. As their own rule, they cannot stop you from saying precisely what you want to say. So, whatever flies your starship Frank." Garan hiccupped and lowered himself, with an almost fall, into the seat at his desk. "I'm just glad to be on that stage with you. To think, just two cycles ago, I was not even sure I would still be in the Academy. I get a new roommate...you," he said with a point of two fingers as it was something Joined Trills tended to do, "and here I am, sharing the top spot."

"Funny how that worked out," Francis replied. "Ever read the Gettysburg Address? It's an incredible speech. Meaningful, precise, and brief. If I could do something like that..." Francis went lost in thought. The Gettysburg Address would not be difficult to emulate. There was a lot there that could be moved into a good acceptance speech. Suddenly inspired, Francis sat down at his desk and pulled up President Lincoln's famous speech and started to read, taking notes as he did so.

"Not sure I know much of this Lincoln fellow you speak of," Garan said as he reached for his PADD. "Since you bring up historical figures..." he said as he swiped and brought up information on Abraham Lincoln. Garan kept his PADD so that only he could see. "...I might call upon the words of Natalidor Mer. Fascinating Trill," Garan continued as he perused Lincoln's information; found the Gettyburg Address. "Fought for equal rights for a particular population of unjoined Trill. This was some five...six hundred years ago. On Trillius Prime that is. Not sure what that would convert to in Earth years."

They both went to work on their speeches for the following day. Gordon typed away at his. Garan swiped and perused, frequently looking over the top of his PADD at Gordon working feverishly.

The next day at the graduation ceremony, after the instructors gave their speeches, it was time for the students. First was the class president then the valedictorian. Seldom was there a pair of co-valedictorians and Garan and Gordon both debated, even in front of the graduating class, over who should give their speech first. After a push from his roommate, Garan stepped forward. "Saving the best for last I see," he said as he approached the podium, his voice booming throughout the auditorium.

"Way to go Spider," came a shout from somewhere within the graduating crowd.

Garan gave a wave and a smile.

"Thank you all," he said as he settled himself and swiped on the computer terminal upon the podium. "As many of you know, just over a year ago, I was staring recycling in the face. My grades were not all that great. I had two options looming at me fast. They were," he held up a finger, "get out," and with the second finger, "recycle and try again. Fortunately, neither of the two was necessary. I had a plasma fire lit under my butt, Rex...that is the worm living inside of me for those of you who don't know...helped to push me along and I turned my GPA around almost overnight. Now, I get to stand up here, sharing this stage with another great mind, and I get to tell you this..."

"Four centuries ago, almost, there was another great man. Zephram Cochrane. And he brought forth on this world the dawn of a new age. The Space Age. When the Vulcans discovered what he had achieved, First Contact set forth our worlds to create the United Federation of Planets, conceived in goodwill and dedicated to the belief that all of us are equal."

"Now, as Starfleet Academy graduates, it is placed upon us, to go forth, testing whether our endeavors as explorers, our skills as scientists, our light as leaders, our determination as the disciplined, and our United Federation, can continue to endure. We are met at this great Academy of those ideals. And now we dedicate our work henceforth in honor and honesty and discipline of those who helped shape our peaceful coexistence."

"I am delighted that this Academy stands as a launching pad in boldly going and seeking out new life, new civilizations, and...you know the rest. We do this in the spirit of the explorers who climbed a mountain simply 'because it was there,' ventured into the deep 'because it had not been done,' in the spirit of those who dared the impossible because, deep down, we all know nothing is impossible. I mean, look at me."

Laughter.

"Now we engage into the most hazardous and dangerous adventure on which any being has ever embarked, because space 'is there.' A wise doctor once said that space is disease and death wrapped in darkness and silence. And we venture into that every day. Because it is there. Our search for hope, knowledge, and prosperity are there. And for those who gave the ultimate price for this quest, we must be dedicated to the unfinished work for which those officers so nobly gave their lives. We take from those long passed the increased devotion to our cause, and they will not have died in vain. So to you brave new officers, I give to you, my first order: Maximum warp!"

"Thank you all." Garan raised a fist into the air to thunderous applause. He stepped away and gave a wave to Gordon before turning to the class president and the instructors, shaking their hands in turn before standing to the side awaiting Gordon's turn to speak.

Francis looked down at the PADD he had in his lap. The speech he'd written was already pulled up. It began, “Almost four centuries ago, Zephram Cochrane brought forth on this world the beginnings of a new era.” It ended with, “We take from those long passed the increased devotion to our cause, and they will not have died in vain. So to you brave new officers, I give to you, my first order: Maximum warp!" The rest in between was pretty much the same as well. As Francis suspected, Garan had stolen his speech.

Cadet Francis stood, and as he passed Garan, he handed him the PADD and whispered, “I think this is yours.”

He took to the podium with total confidence, and when he arrived, he grabbed the microphone from the stand and strode to the front of the stage.

“I'll only do this once, so listen up, cadets, commanders, admirals, and dignitaries of the United Federation of Planets!” As he began, he confidently paced the stage, making eye contact with cadets, animated and poised, with amazing authoritative projection.

“Today I am your co-valedictorian.” He shrugged. “I'm not even sure what that means. I'm definitely no eight-legged muppet pointing out the obvious fact that space is 'there,' or some hoo-ha notion it's a disease.” There was laughter, and Francis smiled, but did not look in Rex's direction.

He continued, “But when I look out at all of you--my brothers in arms, my adversaries in training, my future commanding officers,” Francis pounded his chest, “I see a crew that’s ready to take on the galaxy and stun people with more than just phasers while doing it!”

Cheers erupted. Francis now was shining, emanating power and positivity. He was clearly winging it, but every word he spoke resonated, and everyone's eyes were locked on him.

“To my fellow graduates, the next generation of Starfleet legends: today isn't just about graduating. It's not about wearing that shiny uniform and getting that fancy rank. And it certainly isn't about me making a fool of myself up here. Nah, it’s about how we stand together when the real battles come. So I say, never let them see us bleed!”

Francis turned slightly, looking to those others on the dais. “To our professors: you didn’t just teach us how to handle a tricorder! From the simulators to the training exercises, you made us into what it takes to rise to the top! You gave us the brains, the skills, and the balls to handle whatever the universe throws our way... from hazardous new planets, to tense first contacts... to the dreaded no-win scenario. You taught us to boldly go where no one has gone before! That's not just a slogan, man. That's a way of life!”

Francis faced the audience again, crossing to the center of the stage and standing next to the podium's blue ovaled “United Federation of Planets” emblem

“Finally, to the universe, let me ask you something: Whatcha gonna do when we take our Starfleet boots and kick them so far up your spacial anomalies you'll have to in-verse your polarity? Because this class? This class is ready for the unknown, punk. And we’ll face it with the might of Starfleet and the will of every Starfleet bad-ass honored here today!”

He raised his free hand high and parted his fingers. “Live long and prosper, dudes!”

Francis dropped the mic as he received a boisterous and enthused standing ovation. Most of the professors looked rather flummoxed at what they had just heard, but they clapped nonetheless. Across the hallowed hall, cadets whooped and hollered. Francis, standing center stage, applauded and smiled too.

Applause came from Garantula Rex as well. He also smiled. Truth be told, it was a genuine smile. He was unbothered but the measures he took to get here; just glad that he was there, a graduate and not a flunk. Sure, he stole Frank's speech; made it his own. Sure he found a way to rig the final simulation into his favor. Though Garan was shooting for valedictorian, he came up short enough to share the stage with Frank.

Further truth be known, he had covered his tracks and covered them well. Though Frank may cry about a stolen speech, he had no evidence to support that claim. Only two similar speeches on two different PADDs without any indication on whose came first. Though a deep inspection may support a theory that Garan had influenced the outcome of his own simulated test, it would take loads of time and an expert set of eyes to find the subroutine he had installed. By the time anyone could have a working theory of him cheating his way to graduation, with only consequential bits of evidence to support their theory, he would be many lightyears away, promoted even. By the time any evidence could be found, it would be far too late to do anything about it.

Sure Frank knew that Garan had stolen his speech. 'So what?' Garan thought with a shrug as he continued to applaud. 'What is one ruined friendship?'

 

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