Star Trek Discovery: Penitent's Walk

IV: The Before/The Moment When

Keyla Detmer strode into the mess deck on a wave of adrenaline and endorphins so potent, she imagined they could be seen swirling ahead of her in colorful, translucent tendrils like cartoon cooking smells. "I have successfully defended the Fatherland once again," she announced when she reached the table with her crewmates. She pulled up a chair between EunLim and Nilsson and inspected the contents of their trays.

"That's good," Owosekun said. "I'm glad you helped the war effort of one of the most horrible ideologies in history."

Detmer blew a raspberry. "It's a game, Owo. Besides, it's not about assisting the Nazis. It's about taking the Brits down a notch or two." She picked up a spare set of chopsticks and poked at one of Nilsson's crab-stuffed dumpling. "You gonna eat that?" Nilsson nodded.

"Anyone want to fill in the non-Earthers here?" EunLim asked as she shoveled a forkful of deep-fried Rigellian scarabs into her feeding proboscis.

"Keyla was pretending to be a pilot in a famous battle during Earth Second Global Conflict," Nilsson explained. "She was fighting on the side of a genocidal fascist regime which had already conquered most of the continent against the last free country in the region—an island nation."

"Okay," Detmer said defensively, "but let's be realistic here? Does anyone want the Limeys running Europe? A bunch pale, pasty sexless fox-faced weenies running free around the continent all like, 'Pip pip and cheerio, old chap. Shall we have some crumpets in bonnet? I'm just knackered!'"

"Today's Introduction to the Cultures of Earth's European Region has been taught by adjunct professor Keyla Detmer," Owosekun said dryly.

"Tell me I'm wrong!"

"As with so many things..." Owosekun started.

"You want my bamboo shoots?" Linus offered Detmer his tray. "I'm full."

"Ew, no. Anyone have any meat? I need some protein after sending those Tommys to the bottom of the channel."

"Want some eel?" EunLim offered. "My eyes are bigger than my stomachs."

Keyla accepted the offering with enthusiasm. "I could go for eel."

"Nice hat," Linus pointed at her head. Detmer grinned and peeled the leather flying helmet off her head. Her short strawberry-blonde hair poured out the right side and bounced beside her cheek, while she felt the cool air on the bare scalp on the right side.

"It's a genuine Luftwaffe winter-issue flying helmet," she said proudly, holding it up on one fist.

"And you just have that?" EunLim asked.

"My family have been pilots for generations. My grandmother was one of the last Earth Air Force pilots before spacecraft made aircraft obsolete. She fought the Gallic Hegemony in the skies over Europe at the end of World War III."

How interesting," Nilsson said sincerely. "How come you didn't simulate that battle?"

Detmer shrugged. "It's less fun."

"How so?" Linus asked.

"By that time everything was ECM and fire-and-forget missiles from miles away. There wasn't any real dogfighting." She sampled the eel EunLim had given her. It was gloriously fatty and oily. "Technology has a way of draining all the romance out of warfare."

"There's so much wrong with that phrase I'm just going to leave it there," Owosekun said. Detmer stuck her tongue out at her.

"Anyone hear the latest from the Discovery?" Nilsson asked.

Owosekun answered, "Just that we're still due to depart for Vulcan next week."

"Any word on the new captain?" Detmer asked the question Nilsson had been afraid to.

"Not a word."

"I can't help but feel a tad underserved by Starfleet in this matter," Detmer groused. "More than any ship, Discovery's crew should have a bit more transparency in who's going to fill that center seat."

"You want to explain that to Command?" Owosekun said. "Besides, they've got a lot of mopping up to do now that the war's over. The concerns of one little starship crew isn't a pressing concern."

"Still," EunLim said. "A memo would be nice."

Abruptly the whole station shifted beneath them as if they were on a zero-G amusement park ride, scattering dishes and utensils and sending bodies tumbling out of chairs throughout the mess deck.

"What the hell was that?" Owosekun cried out over the din of the chaos around her.

But Detmer already had a pretty good idea. "Nothing good," she said grimly. "We gotta call in."