Here’s a very short one, set in the 24^th century, and will introduce a few more of the Liberty’s senior staff.

“Once upon a Team”

By Joseph Manno

Things hadn’t gone very well for the Away Team … but at least they had shelter: The cave had proven surprisingly hospitable, and the seven of them settled into their temporary lodgings to wait out the storm, and bed down for the night.

The mood, even after exposure to the cloudburst, seemed cheery, almost exhilarated … and thus, Mantovanni knew the initial, oh-so-promising silence couldn’t last.

Sera started things—whether intentionally or not, one couldn’t say … but he had his suspicions.

“May I have some water, please?” she asked. T’Vaar wordlessly passed her a canteen, and that, at first, seemed the end of it.

Next, though, came a heavy sigh, and Hatshepsut’s scolding, “You just had to mention water, didn’t you, Sera? Now I have to piddle.”

Her chosen phrase garnered two arched brows, a pair of smiles… and from Bagheer, of course, a growl.

Upon her return, Mantovanni closed his eyes and, for a few moments, silently appealed to Morpheus.

No such luck.

Brett King, in a voice intentionally, uncannily like that of a whiny child, piped up with, “I can’t sleep.”

Oh, no.

“Captain … tell us a story.”

“Oh, Pride Lord, preserve us,” Bagheer snarled.

The rest, however, seemed to like the idea.

“Yes, please, Captain,” added Sera, grinning impishly—an expression that told Mantovanni she’d reaped even better than she’d sown.

Mantovanni glanced at T’Vaar. “Are you going to help me out, here?”

She afforded him an infinitesimal smile, one only another raised on Vulcan would see, and he knew he was doomed.

“I do not believe so. I, too, would enjoy the distraction of a well-told tale… and, after all, you are responsible for the crew’s psychological well being, in such a…” she paused to glance about the warm, dry, spacious, cheery cave, “…dire circumstance.”

Parihn commented, “I can’t believe you said that with a straight face.”

T’Vaar, naturally, ignored her … and suddenly received unlooked for support.

“Well, believe it, Ensign,” their captain said. “She just got you your story—assuming you’ll all be quiet and go to sleep once I’m done.”

A quintet of guileless faces silently promised.

He wasn’t fooled; but, despite that, Mantovanni sat back against the cave wall and angled himself to face them, now wearing the slightest smile of his own.

“Commander Bagheer… I’ll require your assistance.”

The two huddled together for a minute or so. The Tzenkethi’s tail lashed once during his “briefing,” but one could never quite tell whether he was amused or annoyed.

This time, they realized he had good reason for both.

“This is called ‘How the Jaguar Got His Spots.’”

Much to their delight, Mantovanni had even done the voices, with an at first reluctant but gradually warming Bagheer providing appropriate sound effects.

Their performance earned them muted applause.

Brett might have been a little noodge, but at least he kept his promise.

“Neat story, Captain. Good night.”

The rest murmured their appreciation, and the cave grew quiet.

A few minutes later, Parihn rose from a spot all too near to the already snoring King, and sat down next to her captain.

“You made that up on the sp– I mean, just then, didn’t you?”

He acknowledged her guess with a slight inclination of his head.

“Wow!” she quietly enthused. “You should write for kids!”

He gestured to the rest ... and included her.

“I think I just did.”