Beginning the Adventure.
Story 1 in the 'Starfleet Academy' Series.

Synopsis: Wesley has finally left the Enterprise, and finds himself beaming down to Starfleet Academy to begin his four years training as an officer of the Fleet. His hopes for an easy time at the Academy are dashed when he crosses the mischevious Adam Martoni, to say nothing of the friend he finds in a strange young woman named Eleanor.

Rated: PG-13. Some swearing and adult themes. No sex.

Notes: This isn't properly spell-checked because this is a work in progress and I'm currently busy as heck with real life stuff at the moment. (work etc). I've had a few people ask for more with this story, and I thought I'd put up what I've done so far and oblige them. When I finish, it *will* be beta-read. As this is a WIP, it may differ from the finished product.


Chapter 1

Mr. Crusher gulped. He gazed around the expansive promenades and levels, the buzz of activity deafening him. The place around him was broad, gaping, in a way it scared him, but it excited him all at the same time. Behind him was a stretch of windows looking into the main docking area. Large new graceful vessels perched like sleeping birds, swan-neck nacelles and sleek bodied saucer sections nestling slightly on tiny invisible struts. He spotted the Missouri, the transport vessel he had debarked from only a moment ago. It's passengers still streamed out of the dock door behind him.

He sighed. He had to walk all the way to the transporter room, which in a perfectly human bureaucratic decision was put five levels and sixteen corridors away from the docking area. But this station was the first. This was the beginning for Terrans, for the Federation, Space-dock was where the whole adventure began.

As he made his way down the escalator, he clutched his case, he wasn't sure why, it was there he supposed and it was something to comfort him. Comfort him? He felt his stomach churn sickeningly. He was frightened out of his wits. All those people, all the talk...all the new friends! All the new experiences, people his age, girls - his - age -

He pushed the thought from his mind with an intense feeling of silliness. I'm there to study, not pick up women! Another wave of adrenaline ran through him. He hoped he would find the right classes and lectures. He had never actually been to the campus but he knew that from the prospectus he was given that it was big. Very big. Not as big as the Rigel VII campus, it's all-time rival, but big enough. The turbolift whirred as the level lights flashed by. Just sixteen corridors to go.

He was glad his leaving the Enterprise was a swift affair. He found out he was accepted, he packed his things, he said goodbye to everyone and he left, even though there was a delay in his final mission as an Enterprise crew-member. Now Wesley, no lengthy farewells! Picard had muttered to him the first time that he was about to leave. This second time was just the same.

He returned a smile from a passing young woman, trying damn hard not to blush. What the hell would he do when he actually got to campus?! All those people his age, why did he find it so intimidating? He had a few friends from school on the Enterprise, but never had he been surrounded by so many.

He shoved it all to the back of his mind. I can't let all this phase me, he thought, I just have to keep calm!

The last corridor opened to a sprawling transporter facility, the standard seven set transporter plates and console surrounded by a few tables, a side wall of holo-windows flanking a row of replicators. Even the transporter room is a big deal in this place!

"Where-to, cadet?"

The officer at the console smiled at him, awaiting a destination.

"Starfleet Academy, San Fransisco campus."

The officer nodded, pressing at the console.

"Why don't you sit down a minute, have a coffee, enjoy the scenery-" She frowned at the holo-windows, pondering the possibility of enjoying false images,"Well, y'know."

He shook his head with a bashful smile.

"No, I'm okay, thanks."

"Look, right now in San Fransisco it's-"She checked the console,"6:30 in the morning! No one will be awake till 7:30 at least! So, sit down, have a coffee, some breakfast, start on a routine because you're gonna have the worst case of space-lag you'll ever have the misfortune to experience!"

He smiled at the young woman. She seemed fresh from the Academy, the usual brashness that accompanied this status exuding from her mannerisms. His smile grew with a flash of confidence.


"Great! Sit down, I'll get you something!"

He sat at the table in front of him.

"What would you like?" she asked, working at the console of a replicator.

"Pancakes," he replied.

"With honey and cream?"

"And toast on the side."

She worked at the touch-pad array. The cavity produced the sweet smelling plate of food from a flurry of shimmering sparkles.

"How do you have your coffee?" she asked.

"Columbia, double sweet," he replied. He looked to her working at the console. "What's you're name?"

"Ensign Hatten, Carolyn. Yours?"

"Wesley Crusher."

Carolyn placed the tray of food in front of him, complete with coffee and napkin. He couldn't help but smile.

"You're very friendly..."

"It's my job."

He nodded, starting on the meal. He could already feel it happening, the change. It was a big change. He wouldn't be the same afterwards, he was certain, but everything he knew would be gone, if not drastically different. His family would change. He would change. A sadness took him. He would miss the way things used to be. The sadness was suddenly eclipsed by excitement, and he knew that whatever awaited him at Starfleet Academy would be the time of his life.


The cadet strode down the corridor, shaking the morning's fatigue from her limbs. She growled to herself, a string of colourful expletives running from her mouth as her feet pounded the hard carpetted floor. She wasn't looking forward to her first class that day. As wonderful as her exobiology class was, she was stuck with a useless member of a lab partner.

He didn't record any data. He didn't listen to her when she suggested ideas. When they were doing practice exercises his attentions were firmly set on his pretty female classmates rather than the glowing fungi dying in the appropriate canister.

Her partner's recent distraction was the new cadet. Oh, how could he resist? Apparently the new cadet was a he, the spawn of Starfleet's top-brass. Lived on the Enterprise for 3 years greasing it with the best? She hated him already. And the new boy was probably the perfect companion for her partner - the louse - who was a firm believer in the 'grease your way to the top' mentality that she despised so greatly.

She kept down the corridor of the live-in apartment block.

To be perfectly honest to herself, she was quite fond of the louse. She was damned if she knew why, he was just charismatic, quick witted, loud obnoxious. All the things she liked to encourage in herself.

Her friends hadn't understood her vocal dislike of a young man she hadn't even met, but she made it quite clear she didn't want anything to do with this new fellow. She wasn't going to fawn over him like the other girls in her year were likely to do, or whisper to others how wonderful his life must be.

There was a movement in the corner of her eye. She stopped, peering down an off-shooting corridor. A figure crept to the door of what she knew to be an unoccupied room.

"Mr. Martoni!" she boomed.

The figure jumped a clear two feet in the air from his crouched position, clutching his front.

"Jesus, Ruddesford! You trying to give me a heart attack?! I thought you were the superintendent!"

Ruddesford frowned. She didn't trust him, not Martoni.

"Those aren't your quarters!"

The dark haired cadet grinned.

"I know!"

Slowly, a smile crept to her face. The quarters he was creeping to were empty as far as she knew. If he wanted to play a prank on nobody, all the power to him!

"As you were."

The dark Martoni slipped into the room, opening the old-style latch doors with precise deliberation; he made no sound.


The cadet pouted, pulling the nibbled nail from his mouth awkwardly, looking back at the jet-haired beauty before him. She smiled wryly; crossing her retro-federation uniformed arms, done in the red militant style of 30 years ago but with modern alterations such as the lack of golden adornments and bothersome buckles. She pressed some touch-plates on her console, and sliding out from behind the reception desk she shook her head.

"You're pathetic..."

The cadet glared at her, "What!? What?"

She laughed, "He's a human being, not a celebrity!"

"He's from the Enterprise!" the cadet said pointedly, "You don't seem to understand - En-ter-prise - see?"


Jamison let out an exasperated breath.

"So?! So he just might know the captain! Who knows who he knows - who knows who he could put in a good word for me to..."

"Oh for pity's sake Mark!"

"Jamison," he corrected.

The woman chuckled.

"Sorry - Jamison - he's just a guy - he lived there for a while," She looked up, seeing the glazed look in the young man's blazing blue eyes, "Jamison - you're to leave this guy alone about this, okay? You show him around...treat him like a human being!"

Snapping from his thoughts, he nodded drolly.

"Yeah yeah yeah," he sighed, "I promise -" he lifted a hand and exposed the palm flat in the air, "Cadet's honour."

The woman chuckled, sitting back at her desk.

"Mark Jamison - there isn't any such thing!"

The door to the modest office opened with a hiss, a woman bounding in wearing a slight smile.

"Has he arrived yet Ms. Ellis?"

The dark haired woman checked her wrist chrono and shook her head at the blonde fresh-faced imp before her.

"No Julie, he should be here soon though."

Julie glanced at Jamison, pouting her thin lips askew.

"You still fantasizing about schmaltzing your way to the Enterprise..."

"Hey!" Jamison exclaimed, "It's not 'schmaltzing', it's 'networking'..."

The blonde woman shook her head, her jaw length, lightly curled locks bouncing, "Whatever."

"Hmm, I could go some waffles," muttered Ms. Ellis.

"Jaraan makes a mean waffle..." agreed Julie.

There was a sudden glow at the transporter pad in the corner of the room, raised off the ground slightly, and the three all turned to it, standing straight, neatening themselves off.

The shape glowed, shimmered, then faded, leaving a rather nervous looking young man. Julie exchanged a smile with Jamison, and Ms. Ellis stepped forward.

"Mr. Crusher?"

He stepped down from the transporter console, smiling gently, nervousness in his step. The woman that greeted him was rather lovely, her midnight-black, straight jaw length hair cropped around a pale-skinned doe-eyed face. From her outfit he figured she was a member of staff. She was rather young looking, around Deanna's age, a comforting easiness surrounded her. He extended his hand, shaking hers.

"Welcome to the Academy, Wesley, I'm Karen Ellis, and I'll be overseeing the final stages of your enrollment."

Wesley nodded as the woman led him to the sizable desk to the side of the room, a large padd sitting next to a console.

"I just need to get your thumbprint scanned to affirm your arrival, as well as a quick retinal scan..."

Wesley frowned a little, "That's a lot of security..."

Karen cocked her head, pulling a hand-held device from a top drawer.

"That's the times for you - we've caught one or two spies over the years," she said, holding the device up to Wesley's eyes, "Keep still there - good."

Wesley could see the two cadets from the corner of his eyes. They looked like they could be twins, both with blonde hair, eyes as bright a blue as the San-Franciscan sky out the window, and similar chiseled, narrow features. Not that he could tell that well from the corner of his eyes.

"Okay," Ellis said, "Just press your thumb down on here, say your name for voice pattern identification, and you're free to go row with the other slaves..."

Wesley didn't know whether to smile or be worried. He opted for pressing his thumb down on the pad instead. "Wesley Crusher."

The voices of the cadets were chuckles in the corner, and a low remark that sounded rather like a snide one. Karen scooped one of Wesley's arms up and led him to the two cadets.

"Okay Wesley," she said, "These young strapping examples of Earth-hood are going to show you around, aquaint you with some people, hopefully - " she glared at them pointedly "Keep you out of trouble - that includes keeping him away from Martoni..."

"Okay okay," Julie grinned, pushing Ellis back, "We'll look after him... go do whatever it is you do!"

Ellis rolled her eyes, waving to Wesley as she strolled back to her desk.

"Have fun Wes, it's nice having you here."

"Thanks," he smiled, being buffeted out the door by the two cadets.

"Seeya Karen!" Mark hollered out, and the woman glared at him.

"Miss Ellis to you!" her voice was muffled by the closing of the automated doors.

Oh Lord, he thought, what have I gotten myself into? Bustling out into the sleek world ahead, the large space and smooth lines of the Main Foyer surrounded him. The place overflowed with cadets like him, the tall layered levels stretching away with organic contours like the mouth of a gaping trout. He took a long breath in, his stomach tightening.

"Well Wesley, introductions!" Jamison grinned, giving a clap, "My name's Mark Jamison, but please, call me Jamison-"

"Kmmph," Julie tried to hold back her laughter. Jamison threw her daggers then turned to her.

"And this," he swallowed back his annoyance, "Is Julie Crawford."

"Hi," Julie smiled, extending a hand, "Nice to meet you."

"You too," Wes smiled in return. She had a sweet smile, her thin sculpted lips set off by the soft point of her chin in the jaw-line.

"Okaaaay," Mark looked about him, rubbing his hands together briskly, "Guess we should start this tour..."

"Oh - wait," said Julie, "Elly wanted me to tell you-"

"Oh nooo..."

"That!" Julie called over Jamison's groaning tucking her arms behind her back in proper Starfleet fashion, "If you didn't haul your ass over to the science lab and do your bit on the exo-biology prac she'd throw you in the holo-suite and use you for broadsword fodder!"

Jamison lifted a brow through a wince.

"Those were her exact words," added Julie.

Wesley almost felt like wincing himself.

"Broadsword?" he muttered, and Jamison nodded slowly.

"She's damned good too so I better not piss her off by dawdling - come on I'll show you your room and then I can sorta show you around during the day - if I don't help her out with this she'll kill me!"

Wesley gave an uncertain smile. The girl sounded klingon - maybe she was Klingon. Though Elly was a terran name, and the broadsword - hardly the weapon of choice for a klingon. He had taken note of the wince Jamison wore, and it reminded him of Riker and Deanna before a poker match, knowing they'd have to take on the 'Ice Man'.

Jamison led him through the foyer, unfamiliar faces looking him over with fascination. Unusual music floated in from somewhere; Wesley glanced about him, trying to place it's source. The eye-sore that was in the direction of the music caused Wesley to stop in his steps. It was the strangest - place - he'd ever seen! All there was a sea of tables and sitting alcoves, couches, subspace chatter viewers… A row of replicators could be seen glowing at the very back of the area. Littered through the furniture were planters housing earthen tropical plants. The ceiling and walls of the expansive cavity that gaped in from under the second level balcony were all a deep vibrant purple, punctuated with citrus coloured lights - orange, green, yellow... Blues and reds decorated one bar, sleek and clear, sitting to one side of the cavity, a rather cluttered one was embedded in the other, shelves lined with various exotic bottles and a few antiques from what Wesley could make out.

"Don't tell me that's the barlounge!" he gasped.

"That it is," nodded Jamison with a knowing grin.

"I knew they had refurbished the old mess hall but I didn't know they did that much to it!"

"Oh, Starfleet went all out on this project," Julie said, "Right down to the staff."

Wesley shook his head in awe, "What for?"

Jamison grinned, "Apparently a healthy social environment promotes balanced and emotionally fit officers…"

"You got that from the pamphlet..."

"Sure did!"

"What's the real reason?" Wesley asked with some incredulity.

Jamison chuckled. Wes obviously wasn't completely alien to Starfleet politics and beaurocracy.

"To keep the cadets out of downtown San Francisco and conversely drop the embarrassing numbers of all out bar brawls involving Starfleet cadets."

"Does that happen here?" he asked, indicating the barlounge.

Jamison snorted, Julie letting out a chuckle.

"Are you kidding?" she shook her head, "You'd be hauled to the superintendents office faster than a ferengi to latinum!"

"That's not mentioning the reprimands on the permanent records!" added Jamison.

Wesley frowned. Such a large facility couldn't be underused like that. It must have been constantly dead. Like having lunch with your mother.

"So not many cadets go there huh?" he said finally.

Raising an eyebrow, Jamison grinned, exchanging a look with Julie, "Oh no, the place is continuously packed!"

"It's the morning," said Julie, "It's always dead in the morning. Just wait till later on."

"Ohh," Wesley pouted, gazing at the bar, "What keeps them there?"

"The bar has one redeeming character," Jamison grinned, Julie nodded with a similar knowing smile.

"What's that?"

"No time now!" tisked Julie, "You have to get cracking you two! You'll see at morning break, Wes."

Indeed, the lighting and décor of the place seemed to have a healthy exciting glow. The cluttered bar intrigued him, the bottles seeming ages old. He looked up, Julie's voice breaking his train of thought.

"Hey Mark - I'll go tell El you're coming, 'kay?" said Julie, springing from the group with an excited gait. Jamison threw a quick wave.

"Sure," he said, "See you in a bit!"

"It was uhm," Julie pouted a small smile, her eyes shining, "A pleasure meeting you Wes…"

"You too," he smiled, feeling his cheeks grow red.

"Come on," Jamison growled, pulling Wesley away.

Wesley took a glance back; the pretty young woman was watching him go. She bounced on her toes and strode away. Wesley looked to the ruffled Jamison.

"She a friend of yours?"

"A good and very old friend, so watch it!"

Wesley smirked, "I get you."

"You better!"

He watched Julie disappear into a corridor. She would be striding away, bubbly and bright, finding this 'Elly' woman and telling her - perhaps about him? Hmmm, that 'Elly'... Broadswords were rather heavy weapons, she must have had arms like pillars, and a top-heavy figure. The sort of blood hunger involved in such a sport - she was good so she had to have been dedicated - was rather repulsive to him. An awful wriggle traveled down his spine. He hoped he didn't have to have too much to do with that person. He let his mind settle on the vision of Julie once more, the blonde bombshell with the sunshine smile.

"So," said Jamison, "Must have been great living on the Enterprise…"

"Oh yeah," nodded Wesley, "They - the senior officers - were really nice to me. Probably because it was just me and my Mom on the ship, I didn't have any brothers or sisters you know?"

Jamison nodded.

"They let me get involved with ships duties… it was a blast."

There was a sparkle in Mark's eyes, and he snapped his fingers.

"Oh yeah, your Mom's the CMO right?"


Wesley smiled - this guy knew his Mom's position?

"Used to be married to Jack Crusher?"


"Riiight…." Jamison narrowed his eyes with a smile that made Wesley feel rather nervous. A hearty chortle burst from Jamison's grinning face as he strolled nonchalantly through the rather huge trans-aluminium doors at the end of the foyer.

"So you're the Son of the Dancing Doctor?"