Something Old, Something New by Grundy

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A New Beginning

I only got her as far as the Academy...

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The woman in the mirror had her dark, glossy hair pulled up behind her into a bun. It looked extremely professional, and very much in keeping with Starfleet regulations.

It did not, however, look like her. Or at least, not a her she wanted people to see. Far too severe. Also, she was quite proud of her hair, and this felt too much like hiding it.

She tugged the hair tie out again, sighing. She needed to make up her mind, and quickly, or she was going to miss her scheduled shuttle to San Francisco.

Getting used to these new times was proving a challenge. Not that she hadn’t been ready for one, mind. Sitting around in the afterlife was more than memory, much as Ada had said it would be. But it was not living. So when the opportunity had presented itself, she’d seized it, even if she had been the only one of her kin willing. She didn’t know how long this new life would last, but she meant to make the most of it while it did.

Her return wasn’t like elven rebirth. At least, she didn’t think it was. She wouldn’t know, never having seen an elf return, only the results. She had met several elves who had died in Beleriand. But she had simply woken up in what her mind told her was her own bed, in her own apartment, as a young adult – a very much alive young adult – in 2339. She still remembered everything from her first life. But thankfully whatever ainu had decided this was the place and time for her had seen fit to also stuff her head with just enough memory of a life she would have lived had she been born in the usual way to let her function in a society as alien to her as the elves must have been to the first Men to enter Beleriand.

Any oddity in her behavior had been explained away by her having ‘eccentric’ parents who had died in an orbital habitat accident while she was in pre-school, and a recent head injury incurred playing sports She was thankful her memory started after that. She’d seen a holo recording of the incident, and it did not look at all like anything she wanted to recall happening to her.

That she hadn’t cared to play the game again since had been put down to trauma by those around her rather than a sensible reaction to what looked like a dangerous game. Her counselor was still trying to convince her she should try returning to Parisses squares. The man had phrased it as “get back on the horse that threw you”. It turned out he didn’t actually know much about horses or riding; it had never occurred to him that attempting to ride a poorly-trained horse was not wise. From what she could see, this particular ‘horse’ was prone to throwing even highly experienced riders.

The year hadn’t meant much to her until she’d done some reading.  She’d originally started tearing through history texts hoping to find out what had happened after she died. She hadn’t been able to determine how long ago that had been, however. To her surprise, none of the histories mentioned her home, or her family – her real family, that was, not the dead parents she strongly suspected were fictional.

She would have though the family of her first life were sufficiently important historical figures to be remembered even in what she had tentatively decided was the Seventh Age. At least, she thought it was. But the length of the Ages after the Third was exceedingly difficult to guess. She’d settled on a Fourth Age that ended in utter disaster and the loss of all historical records, a Fifth Age that had to begin again nearly from scratch, and a Sixth Age that ended sometime around the end of the last century BCE. Of course, she could just as easily argue that both the Fourth and Fifth Age had been somewhat longer than the Second and Third, and then the Sixth Age started later and ended with the first spaceflight of the modern era…

No matter how she sliced the Ages there wasn’t a word about her family to be found in any history book, not even her grandfather.  You might think ‘first human spaceflight on Earth’ (or possibly ‘first sentient humanoid spaceflight on Earth’, depending on how you viewed Eärendil) would have carried through the ages, but apparently not. She’d discovered multiple competing versions of what counted as the first human spaceflight, but everyone did at least agree on the first warp flight being Zefram Cochrane. (She had discovered several legends about women marrying stars, but if these were echoes of her grandparents, their story had become muddled along the way, growing into other forms.)

But the books were quite informative about what Men had been doing for most of the Ages, starting from the first cities this Age remembered around ‘BCE 6000’ all the way through to the present. She had devoured everything about the history of Earth, looking for any clue about her family and what might have happened to the elves. Then she had branched out to major non-Human homeworlds. Accessing information had gotten much easier in the years since she’d last been alive. There were more texts than the Royal Library had ever contained, in every language of the Federation, available to her with a mere touch on a padd.

She was surprised to discover one could socialize on the marvelous device as well – a blessing for a woman who was still not confident she wouldn’t be obviously out of place in twenty-fourth century society. She’d even made a few friends, several of whom she’d been astonished to discover were on other planets. They chatted often, and she found some of them fretted just as much about fitting in as she did. One of them in particular described himself as an ‘oddity’. (She didn’t know his real name. Everyone used pseudonyms online. Hers was just a translation of her given name. But she appreciated someone who named themselves LearningFast.)

It didn’t occur to her that her intense research might be noticed by others – not until the Starfleet recruiter came calling.

“I’ve read your file, Citizen,” Lieutenant Maddox told her.

The café down the street from her apartment was nothing like balcony back in what she still thought of as ‘home’, but the view was almost as spectacular – provided you adjusted for it being a view of the harbor of a much larger, denser city. The sea breeze was bracing, and the flowers reminded her of her mother’s garden. And of course, the gulls were old friends who still talked to her when no one else was around. They recognized her even if no one else did. She wondered if they still carried news back to her grandmother.

“You weren’t a standout student in secondary school. But since your injury, the independent study you’ve embarked on struck Professor Galen as sufficiently remarkable to alert us. The reading alone is impressive, I’m told. The languages, however…”

He looked at her, probably assessing her. Apparently, it was unusual to ask for an in-person interview rather than speak via a pad or one of the holo-conference facilities available even in towns much smaller than this one.

“It seems you’ve something of a talent for languages, both Terran and otherwise. I’ll be frank. You would have your pick of several potential career paths. But you would be an asset to Starfleet in any of them.”

“Would I get to go into space?” she asked.

“Depends on your career path. In some tracks, you’d stay planet-side for much if not all of the time.”

She frowned.

“I see no point to joining Starfleet only to stay planetbound.”

“There’s options for that too. But the Academy is the first step no matter what your long-term career goal may be,” Maddox replied. “Can I put you down for the entrance exam for the fall term?”

She nodded.

“Yes, thank you. And please forward literature on the various career paths you believe would be sensible.”

When she returned to her apartment, she’d messaged several of her friends. It turned out three of them were considering applying also. Her decision tipped two of them into definite applicants.

With her current medical status, she’d been excused attending the exam in person so long as she made herself available throughout the exam period for any unannounced test. Thanks to her counselor’s entirely mistaken assessment of her, the psych test had been the relatively simple task of surviving a round of parrises squares. To her surprise, she’d actually done quite well at the game. Given how easy that had proved, there had shortly thereafter been a far more comprehensive follow-up with a competent psych commission, who concluded that aside from her failure to commit herself to any long-term choices beyond ‘Starfleet Academy’ she was almost surprisingly well-adjusted and stable.

She couldn’t very well tell them that having already lived a long life and died once, she was considerably harder to shock or shake this time around.

She’d gotten her exam score – high enough that she passed outright and did not have to try again – and her acceptance packet for the Academy almost immediately.

Not everyone had been so lucky. GreenGirl had just missed the cutoff for acceptance and would have to reapply next year. LearningFast had passed the exam, but there was some complication holding up his acceptance. She and GreenGirl had been encouraging him to keep his head up and give his recruiting officer time to work through whatever red tape was holding things up.

But LearningFast had messaged her this morning that it was official – he was accepted, and just in time to make his shuttle. They would finally meet face to face today. It was reassuring to know there would be at least one somewhat familiar person among the thousand incoming cadets, even if that didn’t necessarily mean a familiar face. They hadn’t thought to exchange photos, and his avatar looked no more real than hers did.

If she could just settle her hair – and her name. Until now she’s been able to hide behind online psuedonyms and her official records. But she’s about to be interacting with people, and hopefully friends, on a daily basis. Maybe even find a few she can let in on her secret, who might be able to help her solve the riddle.

But that won’t work if she’s still Citizen Ross, whose parents hadn’t given her a personal name at birth because they wanted her to choose her own destiny. Officially, she’s been [Baby Girl] Ross all her life. (All two years of it, so far as she was concerned.) But that wasn’t acceptable to Starfleet, so she needed to make a choice, and fast.

Hair first, though.

Her hands aren’t as fast as her mother’s, or as sure as her father or uncle’s, but new life or not they do still remember how to braid. A simple one will do for today – and she will review what the policy is on how long her hair can be yet still be left ‘down’. Not having the formal, almost severe hair styles she’d seen on most Starfleet officers would help her feel more like herself.

Herself. What was she to name herself? She’d been trying very hard to think of names starting with L, because the notion of being ‘L Ross’ amused her. But she wanted to keep the meaning of her true name if not the name itself – much too difficult to explain – and she hadn’t been able to find any L names that fit.

That was when it occurred to her that she could always pick two names. A first name and a middle name. Many Terrans still had them. And it would be in keeping with a family name that sounded vaguely English.

So it was that she reported to San Francisco as Cadet Dawn L Ross.

She managed to get herself and her belonging to her assigned quarters, and only then did she check her padd for messages. Sure enough, there was one from LearningFast.

I have arrived, and assume you have also, as all shuttles from the North American continent have already completed post-flight procedures. Would you like to meet in person? New cadets have no further assigned duties today once they have reported in.

She grinned.

Sure, she keyed in. Steps of Archer Hall? Seems like that should be pretty quiet this time of afternoon.

That is acceptable was the almost immediate answer. I estimate I can arrive in nine point six minutes.

She blinked, then reminded herself that LearningFast generally was precise when it came to numbers. Happily, Archer Hall was only five minutes from her quarters – even if one didn’t run.

She had been waiting less than five minutes – possible four point six, but she wasn’t that precise – when another cadet approached. If this was LearningFast, she could see why he fretted about fitting in. He didn’t match any species she recognized.

“Cadet Ross?” he asked tentatively. “I would have said MorningStar but it appears that the names we registered with Starfleet are attached to communications using the Academy system.”

“That’s me,” she replied. “Though since we’re friends, you can call me Dawn. But your message still said LearningFast when I saw it.”

“Perhaps the system updated at the top of the hour,” he suggested. “I checked my padd en route to be sure I had not missed any further instructions.”

“That must be it,” she agreed. “But I didn’t bring mine, so you’ll have to introduce yourself unless you want me to keep calling you LearningFast.”

“I am Data.”