Chapter 1 - Introduction

"I dinnae believe it. It's nae possible to be this stupid." Scotty was staring at the broken power coupling in his hands as if it were a personal affront.

"And yet, there it is," said Spock. He entered the command that would take the lift to the admiral's apartment and noted that they would be between eight and nine point three minutes late, depending on how quickly Mr. Scott would walk. Agitation in humans often led to adrenaline surges.

"But, Mr. Spock," Scotty's voice had a pleading edge to it, as if he wanted the Vulcan to fix the situation by will alone. "They've had three semesters of applied warp dynamics. Three semesters! I taught them myself. I taught the lass who committed this," he shook the coupling, "this atrocity! It is just not possible that they would align all of sector three with the Baynes band instead of the Cor band."

"And yet…" said Spock, motioning the engineer to precede him out of the lift. They set off at a respectable pace. More likely eight minutes late. Maybe seven point four.

"I know. I know! I cannae explain it. It's as if they lose half their IQ points when they step out of the Academy."

Spock absorbed this hyperbole with equanimity but had to admit that there was some truth to the Scotsman's complaints. Many promising cadets, the Federation's best and brightest, did show surprising inadequacies once they embarked on their first training cruises. That was, of course, what training cruises were for, and regardless of how carefully one constructed a curriculum (and Spock had spent a great deal of thought on his) the pressures and problems of real-world situations could rarely be approximated with theoretical classes.

They reached the admiral's apartment and Spock punched the buzzer. He had codes to enter at will, but very rarely used them.

The door opened, and Uhura's well-known laughter met them. She was seated in a deep sofa by the fireplace, laughing together with McCoy at something that Chekov had been saying. Their host was also chuckling as he waved them inside.

"You're late," Kirk smiled, "I never thought I'd see the day!"

Spock opened his mouth to reply, but Scotty beat him to it. "Ach, captain. It's those vandals' fault. Look at this. Just look at it. I let those cadets loose at my bairns, and now it looks like a Grendulan hornback had been rampaging down there."

Kirk commiserated and ushered them towards the spacious apartment's kitchen, nodding at all the right places as Scotty went on to detail his grievances. Kirk caught Spock's eye and tilted his head at the table, where a salad and both used and clean plates were stacked. Spock ignored the hint.

Their teaching duties at the academy were never light, and Spock complemented them with an active research career. At the moment, with finals approaching at light speed, the situation was rather taxing, however, and it had taken a great deal of planning to enable this gathering of former crewmates. Spock and Scott had not made it in time for dinner with the others, but would still have a few hours of Chekov's company before he shipped out in the early hours of the morning. Newly promoted first officer of the Reliant! Well deserved, thought Spock, who would never admit to having favorites among the many young officers that he had tutored over the years.

Scotty picked up some food and they joined the others by the holographic fire. Uhura was soon nodding.

"Don't I know it! Oh, my little flock have been diligent at their stations, quite impressive, but you can tell how young they are. There is some kind of love triangle, or more likely love pentagon, going on between some of the kids, and today one of them almost ran out crying. Cadets!"

McCoy smiled, rose, and went over to the table, saying over his shoulder "I had four holographic humans and one holographic Vulcan die on the operating tables today. I don't think any of the young trainee doctors would have made the mistakes that they did in a normal operating room, but shake the room a little and flash a red alert at them, and they get all nervous." He piled on a generous helping of salad and stuck a fork in it. As he rejoined the others he thrust the plate at Spock with a meaningful glare. The Vulcan gave a small sigh, but gave in and accepted the plate. He knew that any logical argument that he did not really need to eat for another few days would be lost in the face of his physician's implacable insistence.

He raised a token eyebrow in protest, and, as he had calculated, it led the humans to laugh. It had taken some years, and gentle guidance by Jim, for him to not only tolerate, but learn to appreciate and even induce, this joviality at his own expense. He now recognized it as an important part of the positive group dynamic for this particular subset of humans. His friends.

Jim laid a brief hand on his shoulder before sitting down in the chair next to him. The admiral looked relaxed tonight, a far too rare occurrence these days. Spock did not believe that this desk job was beneficial for his friend.

But for tonight, Jim seemed happy. At the moment, he raised a warning finger at the others, smiling.

"Oh, be careful of stones in glass houses. I seem to recall a few stories of your days as an intern, Bones…"

"Never happened. Not true. Blatant slander." McCoy smiled and picked up his glass.

"Really? There was this one you told me about re-attaching the wrong limb on a Sulmatran…"

The humans laughed uproariously, and it took Spock a minute to figure out why, before he recalled that Sulmatrans had very few limbs at all, and the ones that they did have, had very particular functions… Kirk continued,

"...Or the one where you danced around your patient with beads and rattles?"

"I'd like to hear this story!" Said Chekov, grinning. His recent promotion had given him a boost in self-confidence around the others. He'd spent his formative years as an ensign among these people, and had only recently lost, or at least learned to hide, a rather embarrassing hero worship. He reminded himself that he was very much an adult, a decorated officer, and that it was not strange to spend time in the admiral's… Jim's… apartment, drinking good whiskey, an equal among equals during these off-duty hours.

McCoy shook his head vigorously. "Oh no, that one I'll take to my grave. And really, Jim, who's the pot calling the kettle black, hmm? Don't forget that I know the history of some of those demerits you got as a cadet and ensign."

"You'd never let me forget, Bones" said Kirk. "Tell you what - I'll trade you stories. It seems a night for reminiscing, before we send this hero off gallivanting around the galaxy." He raised his glass to Chekov, who was very proud of the fact that he did not blush at all, or at least not much.

"Let me trade you a story that'll make our cadets seem like well-behaved paragons of virtue. Yes, Scotty, even your Grendulan lads and lassies."

He settled in his chair and let his thoughts wander back to a time before paperwork and committee meetings about committee meetings had threatened to engulf his existence…

Author's note: First Kirk, then Scott, McCoy, Uhura, Chekov and finally Spock will share their stories. If you have any ideas for tales for Chapel and Sulu, I'd love to hear them, maybe we can sneak them in! At any rate, please leave a word or two (or more!) as a review!

I had two gracious and talented beta readers for this chapter - DelJewell and WeirdLittleStories - and it is infinitely better for it.