Chapter Text
Celeste stood perfectly still as the transporter disassembled her molecules. No matter how hard she tried to logic herself toward indifference, everything about the idea of her physical body disappearing sent her mind spiraling down into a deep pit of terror. Her fingernails involuntarily shifted into claws that dug into the hem of her uniform. Then, she could no longer dig her nails into anything.
The transporter is safer than the shuttle trip over here, she thought to herself over and over again. Despite her best efforts to repeat her calming mantra and tread water above the cavern of dread, her mind continued to race as her body fizzled, surrounded in constantly shifting bright and complex patterns of light that she wasn’t sure how she was perceiving without physical eyes or a brain.
As the light began to fade, Celeste felt the sharper, tingly pangs of being reassembled. She’d have to get used to the transporter, working on the Enterprise. She gritted her teeth, determined to force her way through the ordeal. The whole process lasted only a second or less, but it only takes a moment to inspire mortal terror.
“Are you alright, Officer?” Celeste could hear a man’s voice a few feet in front of her, concern tinging his otherwise calm, professional tone.
She winced inwardly at how ridiculous she must look to her new coworkers. She wasn’t sure if this was a fault of her own, or just a result of how her species had evolved, but the physical manifestations of her fear and most other emotions tended to be more difficult for her to mask than those in many other humanoids. This could be a problem in an organization like Starfleet that values a certain level of emotional detachment, but she also knew that they made accommodations where necessary. Still, Celeste couldn’t help but feel embarrassed as she pictured her willowy frame tense from fighting off fear, long feline ears pinned back against her teal shoulder-length hair and tail puffed up to twice its usual thickness.
The concept of standing out amongst her new mostly-human crew didn’t bother Celeste in and of itself. Although she looked similar enough to most humans if one squinted and didn’t look for too long, the more apparent catlike ears and tail mixed with the slight variances in bone structure, the sharp, darting way her body tended to move through space, and the occasional hints of fangs and claws came together to create a distinctly alien impression. Most communities she’d interacted with so far had seen their fair share of extraterrestrials and had met her odd appearance with a welcome mixture of awe and intrigue. It was a good conversation-starter, although Celeste preferred to steer the conversation toward other topics once the conversation got going.
She slowly opened her eyes, hoping her vertical pupils had gotten less dilated as her heart rate steadied. Celeste immediately recognized the two men waiting in front of the transporter. She was certain that the one who’d spoken was First Officer Riker, the taller of the two humans with a covering of brown fur on the bottom half of his face. No, Celeste reminded herself, not fur. Facial hair. Some humans naturally grew hair on their face, and some styled it according to their aesthetic preferences. Riker’s was kept short and neat, fitting for what she knew about the intensely dedicated First Officer.
“Yes Sir,” She stepped down to meet the two men, and took Riker’s hand in hers and flicked her ears into a polite upward position. She forced herself to make eye contact with the First Officer as she spoke, “I’m Celeste. Xenoanthropologist.”
She turned to shake the other man’s hand. “Captain Picard. There’s no shame in transporter anxiety,” His cool, reassuring tone was accented with something she couldn’t quite place. It certainly wasn’t an accent prevalent in the region surrounding Starfleet Headquarters like Riker’s was. “Those damn things make me a bit uncomfortable myself. Would you prefer I arrange shuttle travel for you when possible?”
Celeste could feel her skin heat up at the thought of inconveniencing the ship she hadn’t even started working on yet. She averted her eyes. “That’s ok! I’m sure I’ll get used to it.”
The captain nodded. “Understood,” He began to walk out of the transporter room, gesturing for Riker and Celeste to follow him down the spacious, carpeted hallway. “Thank you for agreeing to transfer to the Enterprise. I’ve been looking to add a xenoanthropologist to our crew for quite some time. You’ve had quite the interesting career so far.”
Celeste smiled, trying to focus on the captain’s words instead of the Enterprise’s warm-toned, rounded architecture that didn’t seem particularly spatially efficient. She knew, however, that humans needed ample space and enrichment on their ships to maintain their mental health.
“No kidding,” Riker remarked, his comment bringing her back to the present conversation, “Suddenly appearing in Klingon dead space, knocking it out of the park at Starfleet Academy, only to graduate and disappear for years on end to study remote societies and facilitate peace talks. If you don’t mind me asking, what made you decide to finally settle down on a Galaxy Class starship?”
Celeste tore her eyes from the sleek computer interface on the hallway wall to study each man’s face. Although she’s already touched on her reasoning with the captain in her job interview, he watched her as expectantly as Riker did. However, Riker’s tone was laced with the slightest hint of suspicion that the captain hadn’t seemed to share. She pushed down the rising tide of anxiety, reminding herself that she had nothing to hide. It’s not like the captain was going to immediately fire her if his first officer didn’t like her answer, after all… Right?
Her ears flicked a few times, more to get out her anxious energy than as a subconscious physiological response to the question. “I would hardly consider life aboard a starship to be settling down, Commander,” she said, hoping her soft tone conveyed a nonchalance that she did not feel, “The freedom of performing independent studies for Starfleet was refreshing for a while, but working on your own for that long, even when people are the subject of your studies…” She trailed off, “I want to work with a team. Not to mention, the Enterprise has a phenomenal track record of discovering new civilizations.”
Picard chuckled, a sound Celeste had not expected to hear from him for some reason. “That, we do.”
Riker made a sound of affirmation. Celeste was never the best at reading human facial expressions or body language. Everything seemed to have a clear-cut meaning in the textbooks and flashcards she studied, but human nonverbal communication was far more nuanced and varied in person than it was on paper. She struggled to tell whether her answer satisfied the First Officer. Then again, she’d been certain that she’d bombed the interview with Captain Picard because of how terse he’d seemed, but he gave her the job afterward and expressed his excitement for working with her. She was going to have to study humans further to work with them effectively.
The Starfleet badge on the captain’s chest warbled. “Captain, our sensors are picking up an anomaly near the Hyperion star system,” A woman’s voice echoed from the badge, before continuing in a more trepidatious tone, “And also, I sense… a presence at the same location as the anomaly.”
Picard’s dark eyes narrowed, and he and Riker exchanged a wary look. The Captain tapped the badge. “What kind of presence, Councilor?”
“It appears intelligent and incredibly powerful. We’d have to get closer for me to pick up anything else.”
Celeste’s ears perked up and her slitted pupils dilated in excitement. A mysterious sentient presence in a star system previously believed to be empty? Thirty seconds aboard the Enterprise, and something interesting was already happening.
Riker raised an eyebrow at Celeste’s poorly-concealed excitement, but she also noticed the corners of his mouth turning up in amusement before his expression hardened. “We should be careful, Captain. Starfleet has investigated the Hyperion system before and never found any signs of life. We don’t know what this powerful, likely sentient presence’s intentions may be.”
Picard’s determination didn’t waver. “I agree, but we must know what’s out there,” He tapped his chest. “Understood, Councilor. Approach at subwarp speed and keep reverse thrusters at the ready just in case. I’ll head to the bridge to aid in the investigation.”
Celeste noticed that Riker’s shoulders relaxed slightly once Picard announced his additional precautions, but his posture remained fairly tense. Without missing a beat, Riker offered to take over her orientation.
Picard thanked his first officer, then addressed Celeste. “I apologize for the interruption. My office will be open after this mission if you have anything you would like to discuss with me.”
“No problem, Captain. Good luck with the mysterious presence,” Celeste tried to conceal her interest in the Captain’s mission. She’d secretly hoped that Picard would offer to bring her aboard the bridge to help with the situation, but she knew that she technically wasn’t allowed on any missions until her official onboarding process was finished. Celeste could be wrong, but Captain Picard didn’t strike her as the kind of person to bend the rules for frivolous reasons. Or most reasons, for that matter.
Riker laughed as Picard left.
“Is there something I missed when studying human humor?” Celeste asked. Knowing human humor, she probably was missing something. No matter how hard she studied the setups and mechanisms behind things humans found funny, it never seemed like she knew enough.
Riker laughed some more. “I wouldn’t worry about it. Some of the things we find funny are pretty difficult to explain.”
Celeste nodded emphatically, her blue-green hair and ears bobbing up and down. “You’re telling me! Your humor is even more nuanced and varied than your nonverbal communication. I apologize, I thought I was prepared to seamlessly socialize with a human crew, but it looks like I need to study you some more first,” She cast her eyes down at the wine-colored carpet that covered all of the Enterprise’s hallways that she’d seen so far, “Also, I’m sorry you’re missing out on the investigation.”
The First Officer shrugged. “We run into mysterious readings like that at least once a week. However,” He turned around, leading the way down the hall, “It’s not every day you get to show your new crew member around the Enterprise for the first time.”
Relief washed over Celeste as she followed Riker down the hall. She wasn’t sure if he was still suspicious about her past, but if he was, he wasn’t letting his feelings affect the way he treated her. It was a level of accommodating professionalism she would only expect from a career Starfleet officer.
After a short turbolift ride, they reached a windowless room that was mostly empty, apart from a standing desk in one corner, a few shelves on the opposite wall, a small potted plant with pointed leaves, and a singular silver crate emblazoned with the United Federation of Planets logo. Unlike the immaculate but lived-in feel of the transporter room and hallways, this room felt clean and untouched to the point of sterility. Celeste absent-mindedly approached the crate and started to dig around inside.
Riker frowned and crossed his arms as he took in his surroundings. “I know it’s not ideal, but this old storage room was the only place we could squeeze in an office for you. The plant was Deanna-- Counselor Troi’s idea, although we weren’t sure if you actually needed…” He trailed off at the sight of Celeste crouched at a very odd angle and rifling through the crate, the tips of her triangular blue-green ears sticking out of the box. Up until this point, she had been careful to keep her mannerisms as human-like as possible, but the intensity with which she dug through the box and the sharpness of her movements dropped all pretense of Starfleet respectability. “What are you doing?”
Celeste was making quiet, high-pitched chittering noises to herself, oblivious to her coworker’s confusion. She pulled out a glowing blue polyhedral die about the size of a grapefruit, pupils dilating as she gazed into it and tossed it from hand to hand. She then gently placed it on the corner of her empty desk, where it bobbed up and down in the air a couple of times before settling a few inches above the desk’s surface. She grinned as it bathed the room in an ambient blue light. “I think I can make this work.”
Riker furrowed his brow at the floating blue artifact. “I’m glad the uhhh… desk light… helps,” he paused to stare at it for a moment before shaking his head, “What is that thing?”
A thoughtful trill rose up from Celeste’s throat. “I’m still trying to crack that one, to be honest. When I work in one place for a while, I like to play local games with the community members. It helps me get to know people in an informal setting, as well as better understand societal rules and structure to some extent. The communities I work with often give me game sets or pieces when I leave as thank-you gifts,” Her expression softened as she moved the 20-sided die around in the air.
“I see,” said Riker. Celeste noticed him sneak a glance into the open silver crate at her game collection before his eyes returned to the blue die, “So that light belongs to a game?”
Celeste batted the die across the room, and the two coworkers watched it bounce around the walls, always floating a few inches away from any nearby surfaces as if it were repelled by a magnetic force. As Celeste spoke, her pupils followed the die’s trajectory around the room, her feline tail flicking involuntarily. “Yes and no. I’m surprised you didn’t recognize it. The game is human in origin, although lots of other species have adopted and altered it since its conception. Have you heard of Dungeons and Dragons, Commander?”
Riker shook his head. “Can’t say I have. Does it involve taking calculated risks or bluffing people like poker?”
Celeste laughed. She leaned on the edge of her desk. “Not reall- wait. You know what?” She snatched the die out of the air, “It totally does! Storytelling and role-play mostly, but these dice help determine the outcomes of certain actions. I hadn’t thought to compare it to poker.”
Riker began to lead her out of her office. “Then I’d love to try it at some point.”
“You like to gamble, then,” Observed Celeste as they headed into a large, dimly lit room filled with soft chatter and music. Tables lined the large windows and dotted the rest of the room, occupied with uniformed officers talking and eating and playing a few lively games. Celeste briefly scanned the games for 20-sided dice before taking in the rest of the room. A tall dark-skinned woman dressed head to toe in a dazzling gold color smiled to herself as she shook a cocktail mixer behind a bar in the center of the room. Her eyes met Riker’s, and her smile widened and she waved Riker and Celeste over.
Riker ordered two glasses of “the usual” and pulled a chair out at the bar for Celeste.
The woman nodded in approval. “You must be Celeste. I see our First Officer still knows how to use his gentlemanly charm to welcome newcomers. The name’s Guinan.”
Celeste shook the woman’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Guinan. Commander Riker has been kind and accommodating.”
Riker shrugged. “I’m doing my best. The Captain was supposed to show her around, but something came up.”
Guinan hummed thoughtfully as she began mixing colorful liquids into two glasses. “What’s it this time? Ghost ship distress signal, collapsing planet core, evil parallel universe escaping from a dimensional rift?” Her face twisted into a grimace, “Don’t tell me it’s Q. If he gives you any more trouble, I may just have to get involved.”
Celeste’s ears perked up. “Right, the Enterprise has had quite a few run-ins with the Q Continuum! Way more than is statistically likely. Is there any reason they could be targeting you?”
Riker choked on his drink.
Guinan’s eye twitched, but calmed down as she slid a glass of bright green liquid over to Celeste. The new officer gave it a little sniff. It smelled fresh, with the slightest hint of mint and lemongrass. She took a sip as Guinan shook her head and muttered, “Besides being so obsessed with himself that he doesn’t care how his actions affect others? No idea,” She cleared her throat, “Let’s not think about Q any more than we have to. You probably have some pretty interesting stories from your xenoanthropology work.”
Celeste ran a hand through her blue-green hair. “I would imagine some of my experiences may interest some people. To be honest, I think every interaction is interesting, but I know humans don’t usually enjoy listening to me ramble, so I’ll need some time to sort through everything and get back to you.”
Guinan’s eyebrows raised slightly as Celeste called her a human, but Celeste did not connect the gesture to its meaning.
Riker downed the rest of his glass of glowing mint-green liquid in a single swig. “Guinan’s an exception.”
The woman nodded, her round golden hat staying perfectly secure with the movement. Celeste felt her shoulders relax at the sight of Guinan’s warm smile, and only then had she realized how tense she was before the bartender’s small act of reassurance. “Chat with me anytime,” Said Guinan, “I love listening to people’s stories, long and rambling or not. But for now, I think Riker has a tour to finish, don’t you, Commander?”
Riker sighed, downed a second drink, and rose from the bar. “You’re right. Sitting around and chatting won’t help get you familiar with the Enterprise,” he paused to pull out Celeste’s chair, “At least, not her layout. Come on, I’ll show you where the warp core is.”