Adrian Stevens is the USS Voyager's Quartermaster (responsible for ship's supplies and equipment). She is the creation of Aleta Clegg, the Space Center's real summer quartermaster, head and only cook and chief bottle washer. She made first her first appearance on The Troubadour during the summer camp two years ago. We're glad to see her back.
Today Aleta tells us Adrian's back story.....
I slung my bag over my shoulder. The gates of Starﬂeet Academy gleamed white in the overly bright sun. I'd never been to Earth before. I expected it to be a warm and gentle place, it wasn't. The hot, dry air sucked moisture in a moment, leaving me wilted. The sun of Calfours was dimmer and softer than this harsh light.
"Cadets! Report to the main desk for orientation." The burly man in the white uniform ﬂipped his clipboard shut.
I joined the line of shufﬂing, gawking cadets. I had great hopes for my future. I'd worked hard to get admitted. I'd make my Momma proud. I'd return home as a Starﬂeet ofﬁcer or I wouldn't go back.
"Name?" The clerk never even looked up from her terminal.
She tapped the screen. A white card popped out of a slot. She handed it to me. "Report to the counter behind me. Next!"
I joined another line at the counter, presenting my card when I ﬁnally reached the burly man behind it. He slid my card through a reader, handing it back to me with a sniff. "General studies, huh? Flunked your aptitude tests?" He pushed a stack of uniforms to me.
"To see what you're best at." He accepted a red card from a tall, handsome cadet. "Red for command and bridge positions, yellow for security and weapons ofﬁcers, blue for science, green for engineering, orange for computer specialists, and white for not speciﬁed." He slid uniforms to the handsome cadet. "You'll still get to space. Go line up by color with the others."
I crossed the huge hall to where cadets were gathering. The cadet behind me, the one with red piping on his uniform, nudged me.
"General studies means you're too stupid to qualify for any other position," he said. "You'll end up behind a desk, pushing papers and answering calls."
"Not likely," I answered. "I didn't take any aptitude test."
"It was part of the application process. Everyone takes the test." He turned to his left. "Go line up with the other losers, down there at the end."
I passed milling groups of cadets, all carrying uniforms with colored piping. I found the other general studies cadets at the far end. We had no color, nothing on our uniforms but the Starﬂeet Academy insignia. I shufﬂed into place, wondering what else I'd missed. I wanted to be a pilot or an engineer or any of the numerous bridge stations on a battlecruiser. I wanted to wear an ofﬁcer's uniform home to my Momma. I would make it happen.
"Hey, another one of us." The cadet who greeted me was short with curly dark hair. "My name's Christine." She pointed at the other two general studies, two male cadets. "The short one is Wyatt and the tall one with the scowl is Alex."
Alex glared at Christine. "I'm in the wrong group. I should be in with the computer specialists or the weapons ofﬁcers. General studies, ha. They messed up the scores. As soon as I ﬁnd someone to talk to, we'll get this straightened out."
Wyatt grinned. "Hey, at least we're in the Academy. What's shaking?"
"I'm Adrian." I returned his grin.
The speaker crackled. "Cadets will report for dormitory assignments."
I followed my new group out the door and across the campus.
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