This is a story of Star Trek Online... as I wrote it the year the game came out, for one of my characters. Because I love Bajoran Starfleet officers. And Vulcans. I have a few more chapters after this written already, which I will post if it seems worth the time to do so. I might call this a novelization of the game... since it roughly follows the story there... Anyways, I routinely add a paragraph or so when I play the game. So... yeah, this probably isn't going anywhere exciting. I just like to put video game missions/chapters/what-have-you into story-form. Practice, I guess. And then it eats up all my time and creativity.

As per the usual, I own nothing here. Just writing for fun.

Prelude

The Master of Ceremonies turned away from the Andorian standing next to him and looked at Akorem with stern seriousness. "Akorem Rez," he began, like he did all with all others. "It is my honor…" He went on with the speech while Akorem concentrated on staring straight ahead and standing tall as the characteristically short and somewhat chubby Bolian affixed the pip of an Ensign to his lapel.

"Welcome to Starfleet, Ensign," the Bolian finished, as he moved to salute him. The other men and women standing around him, some captains and some admirals, all saluted him as Akorem did the same. The Master of Ceremonies went on to the next cadet/ensign-to-be to perform the same ceremony while Akorem about-faced and marched off the stage to the sidelines where his fellow ensigns/used-to-be-cadets were milling around in the hallway. Akorem was only the fifth in line alphabetically by family name out of four-hundred-thirty-two cadets. To save space, the Master of Ceremonies decided that the new Ensigns could meander in the back maintenance hallways while the other cadets went through the ceremony. It would also give them all time to change into their new uniforms for the final salute.

The ensigns already in the hallway, the Andorian he stood next to, a Vulcan, two humans, and a Benzanite, were discussing the merits, or lack thereof, of the new uniform policy in Starfleet. Akorem didn't mind being allowed to wear his Bajoran earring on campus and starship, but he could have done without the seven choices for uniform fabric and four styles for coloring per fabric. That seemed somewhat… unorganized. Akorem couldn't believe he thought that, though, since he ordinarily couldn't care less if something was organized or not. He supposed that was what he got for allowing himself to have a Vulcan for a best friend.

"I enjoy the expression of individuality," the Andorian said to her classmates. She obviously did, as her uniform was different from all the other five ensigns standing there. The humans both seemed to prefer the ambistuct body armor, not functional if speed was required, but able to take a shot or two from a Klingon disruptor with greater protection to the wearer.

"But it's not very efficient," Akorem spoke up. Everyone, including the Vulcan, looked at him as though they couldn't believe this sentiment was coming from the mouth of a Bajoran. Didn't Bajorans value creativity and such? "I'm not saying I don't like it, but it's less professional looking to walk onto a starship where every officer is wearing a different type of uniform regardless of rank or station."

"This problem will be solved within the next few days," the Vulcan said with a nod. "Captains of starships will soon be allowed to enforce dress codes of their own, but the inconvenience of this arrangement will soon become apparent when people, particularly ensigns such as ourselves, begin to transfer among captains and must obtain a new uniform each time. The amount of energy required to replicate the correct uniform will be recognized as too large for this policy to be sustained. Therefore, I have chosen the uniform likely to be Starfleet's next choice for fleet-wide enforcement." He nodded down at his intralevic uniform.

"You really think that Starfleet would do that?" The Andorian sounded aghast.

"It is only…" the Vulcan began, giving Akorem just enough time to mouth along with him, "logical." The Benzanite, apparently finding this irresistibly funny, giggled manically. The Vulcan raised an eyebrow at her, but only for a moment. Akorem sometimes felt bad for Vulcans, the target of as many jokes as they were… but, then again, they didn't feel bad about it, so he quickly got over it.

Akorem looked at the Vulcan's uniform, thinking it was a little too showy for a Starfleet uniform. He had a personal fondness for what had come to be called "Picard era" uniforms. There was a sense of dignity, history, and respect that came with dressing in the same style uniform as the famous captains, like Jean-Luc Picard; engineers, like Geordi La Forge; and doctors, like Beverly Crusher. "You think that will be their next choice?"

The Vulcan looked down at his uniform, then back at Akorem. "You do not?"

Akorem frowned and shook his head. As serviceable as that uniform was, it was also flashy, in three different colors with white trim outlining the black, chrome, and sciences-blue sections on the uniform. "Too many colors. Too shiny. Can you imagine being engaged in a phaser battle in that? Talk about a walking target."

The Vulcan looked down at his uniform, but it was impossible for anyone but another Vulcan, or perhaps a Betazoid, to know what he was thinking. "That is a valid argument," he seceded. "I chose it because of its other functions," he went on. "Namely, moderate protection against energy weapons as well as its comparative weight."

"He just thought it looked cool," one of the Humans snickered.

The other aliens laughed with him, except for the Vulcan, who turned his eyes up to the corner of the ceiling with an annoyed kink on his lips. Akorem smiled, since it was a "cool" looking uniform, but he doubted that was why the Vulcan chose it. He didn't want to spend the next four hundred people picking on the Vulcan, though, so he peeked out into the auditorium to see how things were going in there.

His friend, Venik, was entirely at the other end of the alphabet, with four Human letters and three other alien letters following it. He went over to a bench that sat underneath wide window that looked out to the Academy garden. They were filled with trees and flowers of all kinds from several different planets, but there were no sentient beings there. They were all inside this large windowed cathedral, watching cadets take their first steps as ensigns.

Akorem just hoped that these "first steps" would not be indicative of his first assignment. He was anxious and eager to get his orders for his first assignment. He couldn't think of any ship he wouldn't want to be on, and being assigned to a starbase sounded boring to him. He knew of many engineers that went to starbases, though, to repair starships. Engineering vessels were few and far between since the war started and most ships were converted to a tactical emphasis. But, then again, every ship needed a few engineers to keep everything running in the heat of battle.

The hallway was soon filled with moseying ensigns, letters A through M. Bajorans, Betazoids, Humans, Andorians, Ferengi, Vulcans, Klingons, all—in their new uniforms of various colors and materials, but all decorated with one shining pip. Akorem's was the traditional round attached to his lapel, others had stripes on the chest, others on the shoulder. Starfleet combadges were all in the traditional position, gold, silicon and various other elements.

The rest of the letters seemed to move along fairly quickly, and soon all of the new ensigns were being ushered into the auditorium for a final salute before getting their orders. Akorem hoped that he would receive his orders and be on his way tonight, possibly tomorrow morning. He barely paid attention during the salute, thinking that he would have few goodbyes to say before then.

There were, first and foremost, his adoptive parents. Both joined Trill had given Akorem a very interesting childhood experience and encouragement in any and every direction. "Whatever you decide, Akorem," Ola had said, "we will support you." Akorem chose a career in Starfleet after exploring other, but less interesting, alternatives. Also, Venik was going into Starfleet, and Akorem liked the challenge.

Since Akorem was thirteen years old, the Vulcan that lived next door had taunted him with that smug expression and that arched Vulcan eyebrow. Akorem could not allow Venik to outshine him in every subject except creative writing… and, besides, who needed that class anyway? Quantum mechanics, mathematics, officer training—it was all a personal competition. Akorem simply could not allow Venik to win. Through their constant competition had blossomed an unlikely friendship or perhaps just a mutual toleration… it was sometimes difficult to tell.

Akorem looked through the auditorium, tugging at his new engineering-gold uniform. His eyes fell over many faces which he recognized, but none were the one he was looking for. Stupid Vulcans, he cursed in thought with a wry smile. They all look about the same. They could use some "expression of individuality"…

Finally he found Venik, standing at the fore of the room shaking the hand of one of his Stellar Cartography professors. Akorem made way toward him, eventually catching Venik's eye. He walked in his direction as well. Now that their Academy careers were over, Akorem realized that he had merely prolonged the inevitable by joining Starfleet. It was strange, thinking that he would not have Venik to goad him on to his highest potential.

"I read," Venik began, when they were face-to-face, over the din of the surrounding conversations and congratulations, "that the USS Chandra has obtained the assignment of a talented ensign engineer." He watched with what might have been construed as pleasure as Akorem smiled. He had gotten the assignment he wanted, after all? "Well done," Venik finished. "I, too, have gotten t2 he assignment I requested."

"Then the Morana has a brilliant new science officer," Akorem complimented in return. He didn't know what else to say, he was thrilled at having gotten the assignment to the Chandra, but where did that leave him to go next? What other goal was there to set? Before he half-realized what he was saying, he issued yet another challenge. "Bet I make captain before you do."

He watched Venik's expression change slightly to a self-assured grin and that familiar raised eyebrow. "That would be unlikely," he said, which was his way of saying, "you're on." The game to surpass one another would continue, though in different parts of the galaxy. "The Morana is bound for the Delta Volanis sector to explore uncharted systems."

"Last I heard, the Chandra was headed to different colonies to help with setting up and stuff." Venik looked perplexed… or annoyed. It was hard to tell. "And stuff," Akorem repeated with a nod, just to annoy him. "I hope to leave tonight, so… It was good to see you."

"And you," Venik agreed.

Akorem looked around for a moment before offering a slack salute and saying, "'Bye."

Venik raised his hand and gave the Vulcan salute. "Live long and prosper, Akorem."