Redshirts

a few years late,” he said.
    “Why was that?” Duvall asked.
    “It’s a long story,” Dahl said.
    “We have time,” Duvall said. “How about we get some lunch and you tell me.”
    “Uh,” Dahl said. “I’m kind of waiting for someone. A friend of mine. Who’s also been assigned to the Intrepid .”
    “The food court is right over there,” Duvall said, motioning to the bank of stalls across the walkway. “Just send him or her a text. And if he misses it, we can see him from there. Come on. I’ll spring for the drinks.”
    “Oh, well, in that case,” Dahl said. “If I turned down a free drink, they’d kick me out of Space Fleet.”
    *   *   *
    “I was promised a long story,” Duvall said, after they had gotten their food and drinks.
    “I made no such promise,” Dahl said.
    “The promise was implied,” Duvall protested. “And besides, I bought you a drink. I own you. Entertain me, Ensign Dahl.”
    “All right, fine,” Dahl said. “I entered the Academy late because for three years I was a seminary student.”
    “Okay, that’s moderately interesting,” Duvall said.
    “On Forshan,” Dahl said
    “Okay, that’s intensely interesting,” Duvall said. “So you’re a priest of the Forshan religion? Which schism?”
    “The leftward schism, and no, not a priest.”
    “Couldn’t handle the celibacy?”
    “Leftward priests aren’t required to be celibate,” Dahl said, “but considering I was the only human at the seminary, I had celibacy thrust upon me, if you will.”
    “Some people wouldn’t have let that stop them,” Duvall said.
    “You haven’t seen a Forshan seminary student up close,” Dahl said. “Also, I don’t swing xeno.”
    “Maybe you just haven’t found the right xeno,” Duvall said.
    “I prefer humans,” Dahl said. “Call me boring.”
    “Boring,” Duvall said, teasingly.
    “And you’ve just pried into my personal preferences in land speed record time,” Dahl said. “If you’re this forward with someone you just met, I can only imagine what you’re like with people you’ve known for a long time.”
    “Oh, I’m not like this with everyone,” Duvall said. “But I can tell I like you already. Anyway. Not a priest.”
    “No. My technical status is ‘Foreign Penitent,’” Dahl said. “I was allowed to do the full course of study and perform some rites, but there were some physical requirements I would not have been able to perform for full ordination.”
    “Like what?” Duvall asked.
    “Self-impregnation, for one,” Dahl said.
    “A small but highly relevant detail,” Duvall said.
    “And here you were all concerned about celibacy,” Dahl said, and swigged from his drink.
    “If you were never going to become a priest, why did you go to the seminary?” Duvall asked.
    “I found the Forshan religion very restful,” Dahl said. “When I was younger that appealed to me. My parents died when I was young and I had a small inheritance, so I took it, paid tutors to learn the language and then traveled to Forshan and found a seminary that would take me. I planned to stay forever.”
    “But you didn’t,” Duvall said. “I mean, obviously.”
    Dahl smiled. “Well. I found the Forshan religion restful. I found the Forshan religious war less so.”
    “Ah,” Duvall said. “But how does one get from Forshan seminary student to Academy graduate?”
    “When the Dub U came to mediate between the religious factions on Forshan, they needed an interpreter, and I was on planet,” Dahl said. “There aren’t a lot of humans who speak more than one dialect of Forshan. I know all four of the major ones.”
    “Impressive,” Duvall said.
    “I’m good with my tongue,” Dahl said.
    “Now who’s being forward?” Duvall asked.
    “After the Dub U mission failed, it advised that all non-natives leave the planet,” Dahl said. “The head Dub U negotiator said that the Space Fleet had need of linguists and scientists and recommended me for a slot at the Academy. By that time my seminary had been burned to the ground and I had nowhere to go, or any money to get there even if I had. The Academy seemed like the best exit strategy. Spent four years there studying xenobiology and linguistics. And here I am.”
    “That’s a good story,” Duvall said, and tipped her bottle toward Dahl.
    He clinked it with his own. “Thanks,” he said. “What about yours?”
    “Far less interesting,” Duvall said.
    “I doubt that,” Dahl said.
    “No