05 – ‘The Jeanne Pozach Story’

Star Trek: Cayuga

‘The Jeanne Pozach Story”

By Jack Elmlinger

Jim Morrison’s unblinking stare was beginning to disturb her. 

Jeanne blearily considered the poster from the center of her bed. Sleep eluded her and even the threat of duty in four hours couldn’t force herself to find it. “Fine,” she mumbled, struggling out of bed. She stood up, pulled some clothes on and measured herself in the mirror. Vaguely satisfied by what she saw, she left her quarters. 

Why Aimee? 

Of all people, why Aimee? 

The question chased itself around her mind for over the last three months. It was only now when she was too tired to ignore it that she allowed herself to attempt answering it. Aimee was certainly attractive enough. The way that she twisted her blonde hair around those hair pins was obviously enticing enough. And her body…

Jeanne clamped down on that thought. Their relationship couldn’t have been solely based on the physical. They were both mature, modern women, and mature, modern women didn’t undermine their own command for simple lust. It was unconscionable. 

She was so preoccupied with her thoughts that she almost missed the oddity. She stopped and turned, frowning. On the wall was a door that shouldn’t have been there. The Captain was sure that it shouldn’t have been there because she made it a point to walk every meter of the Cayuga when she first came aboard and she liked to think that she knew her ship quite well. 

With that said, the door looked like it belonged because it was the same size, the same metallic gray as every other door on this deck. Jeanne squinted to read the name on the door panel. 

“The Captain’s Table?,” she murmured, confused. “I have a table. It’s in my quarters.” She pondered, sleepily, for a few moments before curiosity got the better of her. She keyed in her access code on the keypad and the door opened. 

The room was made entirely out of wood, from the rafters, to the window frames, to the bar, and to the tables. It was filled with aliens from all over the Federation and some that Jeanne hadn’t ever seen before. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, sharing conversations and alcohol freely. They were generally having the sort of time that someone should have in a bar. 

She just stood there inside the threshold of the doorway, considering her options. The Cayuga had no holodecks which ruled them out so she decided that the mysterious room could have been the work of an advanced alien intelligence or perhaps some kind of space-time anomaly. Both ways around it, there was a bar and Jeanne thought that it was a good place to sit. 

“Hello, Jeanne Pozach.” 

Next to her sat a man dressed in black so dark that his skin seemed to glow while against it. His eyes were black to match, voids into where she could see stars.

“Hello,” she said. “You have me at a disadvantage. Do you have a name?” 

“Several,” replied the mystery man. Jeanne waited for me to elaborate but she was left in silence. 

“Well, maybe you could explain this to me?” 

“It’s a bar.” 

Irritation began to bubble in the Cayuga’s captain. “Yes, I know that it’s a bar, but why is it here? What’s it doing on my ship?” 

“This place has always been here. It’s available to every individual who leads others, to share the burden of responsibility,” he said, motioning to the bar in front of her where a tall glute of Bajoran spring wine had inexplicably appeared before her. “Drink as much as you like, but bear in mind that each drink must be paid for with a story. That is the rule of this place.” 

“Oh,” Jeanne said, with the earnestness of someone realizing that the Earth was round,” of course, I’m dreaming.” 

The man looked at her sternly. “Isn’t that not where all great stories come from?”” 

“I guess you’d know,” she said. “After all, you’re the dream.” She lifted the glass and stood. “Thanks for the drink.” 

She wandered between the tables, looking for a place to sit. Across the room, she spied a piano that was far more impressive than the one in the Cayuga’s Mess Hall. The man who sat upon its bench wore an anachronistic tuxedo and Jeanne had to admit, was stunningly handsome. With him sat an Orion in a uniform that she didn’t recognize. 

“I don’t think that I’ve had a dream that’s this lucid before,” she said to them as she sat down on the end of the piano bench,” but as they do, this one’s pretty nice.” 

The well-dressed man smiled at her. “The commander was just telling me about a battle he once had with a group of… I’m sorry, who were they?” 

“Klingons,” the Orion said slowly, his gaze piercing Jeanne. “You are Human.” 

“As a matter of fact, I am,” she replied lightly,” but I was born on Intooine. Have you heard of it? It’s near the Neutral Zone.” The Orion nodded and Jeanne smiled. Turning to the other man, she asked him,” So, what about your story?” 

“Unlike you and Raloch, I’m not here to tell stories. I just play the piano.” 

“Well, sing me a song!,” Jeanne laughed before she took a sip of her wine. “I’m in the mood for a melody.” 

The man raised a finger. “You must remember the rule. Then I’ll play a song for you.” 

She frowned at him. “You want a story,” she hedged, shaking her head,” but I don’t really have any.” 

“Nonsense,” the well-dressed man said. “You’re a captain. You must have some story, somewhere inside of you.” 

A wry smile spread across Jeanne’s face. “I never wanted to be a Captain.” 

“And yet here you are. And that sounds like a story in itself.” He leaned forward and asked,” What did you want to be?” 

“Anything but what I was…” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The shuttlecraft punched through San Francisco’s thick early morning fog and through her window, Jeanne could see the extensive gardens of Starfleet Academy. Quiet gasps went up from the other cadets-to-be but her face remained carefully impassive. The shuttle’s door opened majestically and the cadets stepped out into San Francisco’s cool, slick air. She followed slowly, her bag clutched to her chest. 

“Cadets!,” a voice boomed across the landing ground. To Starfleet Academy, I do welcome you.” 

In unison, the cadets turned to see a short, child-sized, green-sized alien with large ears and a cranial ridge, wearing a red and black uniform. Looking at his easy smile, they were visibly relaxed. Beside Jeanne, a cadet whispered,” I hope he’s my quad advisor.” With a forced smile, she nodded, fumbling with her bag before she finally settled on holding it at her side. 

“Passed, you have, some of the most rigorous entrance exams of any institution,” the alien officer continued with his speech. “Represent, you do, the one hundred and forty-six worlds of the United Federation of Planets. The best, you are, and the brightest.” 

Jeanne was startled at the polite clapping that the pronouncement inspired. 

“Gotten here, you have. The hard part, now, it comes. Your orientation leaders, behind me, they are. Take you to your registration centers, they will, for your quads.” 

The crowd bustled around her and her gaze darted anxiously, searching and debating. In less than it took to tell, she stood alone on the landing ground. 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“You know, Earth isn’t really that bad. I mean, it’s a little that the oceans aren’t purple or anything but I’m trying to get beyond what I know, you know?” 

Savirri Nol had entered the Academy at the earliest opportunity. Possibly because his family couldn’t stand to have him around anymore. He was talkative for a Zakdorn and he seemed to be desperately energetic. She had never met a Catullan before and she wondered if they were all this rambunctious. 

“Does anyone else have any questions about Earth?,” their orientation leader asked them. “Only a small percentage of cadets originate from Earth or Earth colonies so it’s expected that the majority of you will need time to get used to the environment here.”

The small sea of cadets looked at each other with uncertainty and slowly Jeanne raised her hand. The orientation leader, who had early introduced himself as Craig Burns, smiled at her encouragingly. 

“Does it always rain down here?,” she asked him. 

The other cadets shot each other with confused looks. “As opposed to raining up?,” one of them asked her, sarcastically.

Jeanne shook her head, feeling a burn in her cheeks. “N-never mind.” 

“No, it’s all right,” Burns said, casting an irritated look at the cadet who had spoken. “On Earth, precipitation always falls with gravity.” 

“Oh,” Jeanne said. “It’s just that on Intooine, we have these cliffs in the Citan Province. I-in the morning, when the sun comes up, its heat reacts with the cold air from the night before and the rain,” — she glanced around –,” goes up. It’s very pretty.” 

Burns nodded thoughtfully. “There’s nothing quite like that here on Earth. When you get a free evening, you might want to beam over to Niagara Falls. It’s one of the most impressive waterfalls on the planet.” 

Jeanne accepted the information with a smile. She settled back and tried to make herself as small as possible. The rest of the meeting flowed over her. 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Jeanne sat on the edge of her bed, contemplating the black and red uniform that lay across her lap. She toyed with her year pip and combadge, passing them between her hands. The door swooshed open and she hid the pins in the palm of her hand. A woman with blue skin, long-braided white hair and antennae strode in. 

“Hello,” the Andorian whispered brightly at her. 

“H-hello. I’m Jeanne.” 

The Andorian held out a hand and she awkwardly unfolded her free hand to shake Jeanne’s hand. “I am sh’Vhani,” the shen said. “We will be living together.” 

Jeanne nodded and her mouth worked. “Are you a first year?” 

“Oh, no, I’m in my third year,” sh’Vhani said, fingering her third year pips. “HAve you had an opportunity to view your welcoming communique?” 

“Communique?” 

sh’Vhani smiled indulgently and led Jeanne over to her computer. “Yes, here you are,” she said, calling up Jeanne’s inbox. “This is your class schedule. This is your welcome to the quad,” — sh’Vhani’s antennae perked up in surprise- ,”and here is a letter from the Academy superintendent.” She glanced at her. “Were you expecting that?” 

Jeanne frowned at her question and gestured haltingly towards the screen. “Could you… bring that up?” 

The screen flashed to black and two lines of text appeared before them. 

“Cadet Pozach, report to Admiral Tohan immediately,” sh’Vhani said, checking for any attachments or further explanations for the summons. She found none. “I’ve never seen that before — “

“The news is out.” 

At the panicked hiss, sh’Vhani turned to her roommate with a startled look on her face. Jeanne had backed completely against the wall and her eyes were wide with fear. 

“They’ve finally found me!” 

“What?” 

The flame of terror in her eyes subsided as Jeanne swallowed deeply and shuddered. “I-I-I-I’d better go see the Commandant.” She turned around and fled their room. 

“Aren’t you going to unpack first?,” her roommate called after her. 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

There were stars in the sky. They seemed to be obscured by the lights of the Academy and those of San Francisco. Jeanne lay on her back and she tried to count them, but the thoughts that she was trying to distract away from kept interrupting her. She couldn’t run any farther. On Intooine, it had been easy enough to quietly buy passage on a starliner and slip away. However, this was Earth, the heart of the Federation. The only consolation that she had was that she had yet to be arrested. 

Jeanne clenched at the grass underneath her and pulled, tossing it up into the air. The kindness of the Starfleet commander who had found her on Ven’shalliy IV and his willingness to sponsor her applications for admission to the Academy had given her direction to her life. It had also given her the idea that the Academy could be a place where she might learn to live with herself again. 

The stars winked down as she sat up, slowly, she stood and began the walk to the Superintendent’s building. 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Jeanne stood, while feeling small, in front of the large double doors of the Superintendent’s building. The rounded curves and soothing blues suggested that the decor had been imbued with a deliberately calming tone. 

It failed to calm her at all. 

“Cadet Pozach,” said the lieutenant sitting behind the secretary’s desk,” you may enter now.” 

Timidly, Jeanne opened the doors a crack and slipped through them. Three people were staring at her, all of them admirals. Admiral Tohan was seated behind an opulent desk with the other two admirals sitting in flanking armchairs. None of them offered her a place to sit. 

“C-cadet Pozach reporting,” she stuttered,” sirs.” She was suddenly very aware of the admirals’ uniforms and her lack of one of her own. 

Tohan watched her through steady and experienced eyes. “Jeanne Pozach, know why you are here, do you?,” he asked her. 

Jeanne opened her mouth to answer him but she couldn’t force sound from her throat. Instead, she nodded her response to him. 

The Horrusi admiral tapped a PADD on his desk, which was mounted on a high platform, because of his small statue. “Given what, learned we have, a reason, can you give us? Deported back to Intooine, why should you not be?” 

Jeanne’s eyes searched the carpet below her feet. She frowned before she slowly looked up at him, if only for a minute. “Here, on Earth.” She glanced at Tohan’s eyes, and then just as quickly, darted her gaze away from him. “I thought I could — I came here because I want to — to be different. Better. Because that couldn’t happen on Intooine.” 

The admirals exchanged long and thoughtful glances between themselves. Tohan examined the PADD at length before returning it to his desktop. “My belief, it is, Cadet, a crime of passion, still a crime, it is. Unlikely, I understand, for you to act again. Decided, the Intooine government had, not, to press charges against you.” 

Jeanne blinked at his words. “Th-th-they have?” 

Tohan nodded, smiling as he stood. “To Starfleet Academy, I welcome you, Cadet. Survive the experience, I hope you do.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

sh’Vhani was waiting for her when Jeanne returned to their room. “What did the Admiral want?,” she asked her. 

Jeanne blinked and answered slowly. “They, uh, got in some of my documentation late. And he wanted to talk about it.” 

The Andorian shen smiled, nodding. “The quad is going to the Launching Pad tonight. It’s an off-campus social club. Would you like to come?” 

The corners of Jeanne’s eyes crinkled into a faint smile. “I would.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The well-dressed man raised an eyebrow. “Well, it seems that you’ve succeeded. You’re hardly the woman now that you were then.” 

Jeanne smiled down at the little liquor that remained of her drink. “I grew up. I changed,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “I couldn’t just stay timid.” 

“Changing oneself can be the most difficult thing,” Raloch observed. 

“I did promise you a song,” the well-dressed man said,” and I think I know which one you’ll like.” 

“Oh, that’s all right,” she said as she stood up. “I have to go wake up. I’m sure that it’s almost time for me to be on-duty.” 

“If you get home before daylight, you might just get some sleep tonight,” the well-dressed man told her. “Never mind the darkness of space.” He smiled and Jeanne was gone.

The End…