Know When To Hold 'Em

Posted on Fri Jan 2nd, 2026 @ 6:57pm by Ensign Vesper Wells & Lieutenant JG Constance 'Connie' Montoya

2,628 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: Prologue
Location: USS Guinevere
Timeline: 2388

Connie Montoya smoothed the line of her uniform jacket as she watched the teapot, the PADD beside her counting down. Brewing tea before a session was part of her routine, almost a ritual. It set the scene. Perhaps she drank too much tea, but medical had not flagged it yet, so the ritual remained.

Her uniform was immaculate, the cut sharp against her willowy frame. Dark hair was drawn back into a sleek twist, not a strand out of place. The precision suited her long, angular face, the fine shape of her jaw and the observant hazel eyes that missed little. She moved with quiet economy, every gesture deliberate, as if the order of her surroundings was part of how she prepared herself to listen.

Her next appointment was with the ship’s new yeoman. Fresh from the Academy, the sort of first session usually given over to letting someone speak about the change from cadet life to serving on a starship. Yet Vesper Wells’ file told a more complex story.

Hesrin Disease. The cane. The brace. Permanent damage to her hip from her teenage years. Connie had read the details carefully, noting the discipline and persistence behind the record. The medical entries spoke of risk and adaptation; the Academy reports spoke of quick intelligence, attention to detail, and a strong instinct for support. Here was someone who had gone for her dream despite the limits of her body and who had excelled. Capable. Determined. Unlikely to let obstacles stop her. And, perhaps, used to living with other people’s caution more than her own.

She placed the teapot on the low table, setting out two cups and saucers, with milk and sugar within easy reach. Ready for the Ensign, if she wished to take them.

Vesper pressed the chime out of courtesy before letting herself in. She smiled gently, if a little timid as she moved inside. She wore her uniform, the black cane she used to balance her limp blending in with the fabric. She'd refreshed herself on Connie's file before coming. Pragmatic. Resilient. Cultured. But for once, she knew that the woman would have read her file in return. "Vesper Wells to see you?"

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Connie said, her smile reaching her eyes as she stood to greet her. She took in the neat line of the uniform, the measured way Vesper carried herself, and the discreet way the black cane blended with the fabric. Meeting her eyes, Connie gestured to the pair of armchairs by the low table. "I'm Connie Montoya. You are welcome to call me Connie if you prefer, or Montoya if that feels more comfortable."

"You don't like Constance?" Vesper asked softly with curiosity as she made her way to the chair, easing herself down before setting the cane carefully out of the way. "I think it's a beautiful name. With substance."

"Thank you," Connie said with a small smile that reached her eyes. "But my grandmother, who is very much still with us, is called Constance. I was always called Connie to avoid confusion." She met Vesper’s gaze as she spoke, taking in the careful way the young woman had eased herself into the chair and set her cane aside, deliberate and without fuss. There was a quiet self-possession there, one that spoke of practice rather than ease. Reaching for the teapot, Connie lifted it with a smooth, practised motion, the steam curling gently between them. "Would you like some tea? Or I can replicate you something else if you wish."

"Tea would be delightful, thank you," Vesper nodded with a gentle smile, admiring the tea set. Having grown up on earth, she enjoyed real tea, and the ritual of brewing it in a pot. "How did you know?"

"I didn't," Connie admitted as she looked at her before pouring the tea for them both. She didn't mind explaining the ritual, or what she was doing...and if asked, she would even answer the why. "I offer it to everyone who comes here. Not everyone drinks it. Sometimes, it just sits between us as an offering. Do you take milk, sugar or both?"

"Both, thank you," Vesper nodded as she watched with a small, gentle smile. "It's...certainly something to break the ice," she admitted softly, with a weak chuckle at admitting there might be ice to break.

Connie added milk and sugar to Vesper’s cup, each measure deliberate, before giving her own a brief splash of milk. She stirred both, the faint clink of spoon against porcelain steady in the quiet. When she lifted Vesper’s cup and saucer, she leaned forward slightly in the handover, her eyes meeting the younger woman’s with unhurried intent. “It is,” she agreed, her tone warm. “Most cultures have rituals for sharing something… tea, a meal, bread. It signals safety, trust. For many, it eases them, even if they never consciously notice.”

"Ah...good to know my instincts aren't entirely off when it comes to counsellor trickery..." Vesper teased softly, but her smile was good natured as she took the cup, nodding her gratitude. She sipped it carefully, her delicate eyebrows lifting with approval at the blend. "More trickery...you do it to have people coming back for more..."

"Seeing as most seem to think Counsellors carry some sort of contagion...one has to find an angle..." she sat down and took her own cup, sipping it. For a moment, she let them sit there in silence before she added, her voice measured but with a genuine gentleness to it, "Welcome to the Guinevere. How are you finding it here?"

"I like it," Vesper replied without hesitation, but also honestly. "It's...my first posting out of the Academy though, so maybe I'm just biased and don't have much to compare it to," she added with a soft laugh at herself.

Connie gave a small nod of acceptance at the words, her eyes on her. "The emotions you feel at something new are as valid as when you have something to compare them with," she said softly. "I am glad you like it."

"Do you like it?" Vesper asked with curiosity, sipping her tea gently as she watched her over the rim. It was always worth hearing a more experienced officer's point of view on something.

Connie nodded as she gave her a small smile. "I do," she said. "With the Ground Forces here, I get to continue the work that made me join Starfleet, as well as working with the regular Fleet. Meeting different people with different experiences and backgrounds."

"It sounds like you're made for the fleet," Vesper had to admit with a soft chuckle, letting the warm cup settle in her hands, enjoying the sensation. "Although, I can only imagine how much work the Ground Forces would be for a counsellor..." she teased.

Connie chuckled softly, her eyes gentle. "Like all people...there's different levels of work. Now how are you feeling, Vesper?" she asked, meeting her eyes and holding them.

Vesper glanced into her drink with a gentle smile. She had known the question was coming. It always was. And she did her best to meet it with the kind and professional intention behind it, but it wasn't always easy, not when she tried to keep it out of mind whenever possible. "I'm fine, thank you. I went for my medical check up when I came aboard. My quarters have plenty of space to move, more than I had imagined actually."

"You know that is not what I am asking," Connie said before she sipped her tea. But she didn't prod any deeper. Trust took time and she had plenty of it. She exhaled slowly. "Have you unpacked yet?" If Vesper wanted to do this version of small talk for the first session, she didn't mind that.

"Yes, I couldn't wait," she admitted with a soft laugh, looking down at herself. "I'd brought...way too many things with me, but I just about managed to find a place for them all."

"Do you have a favourite item?" Connie asked, curious as she watched her with a small smile. The curiosity wasn't necessarily professional, although key possessions told a lot about a person. No...she was curious on more a social nature, to get to know the other woman. She held the cup in her hand, shifting how she sat a little.

"Goodness, that's tricky..." Vesper took a deep breath as she gave the question more thought than it probably needed. "I'm torn between two...Chrissy, my Christmas Cactus...I grew her from a cutting of one of my mother's plants. She's a drama queen, requires a lot of fuss, but she blooms in the dark and is charmingly stubborn," she chuckled softly, pausing to sip her tea "And my guitar. It was handmade, but it's pretty old and scuffed around now," she admitted with a soft chuckle, shaking her head. "I just put a sticker over any ugly bits. Her name is Willow."

Connie's eyes shone as she watched her, with clear warmth and a touch of awe. At how open she was, how easily she said about naming her cactus and her guitar. "Willow's a fitting name," she said after a moment. "Do you play a lot?"

"Whenever I can," Vesper nodded with a gentle smile as she set the cup carefully on the table. "I started when I was a kid. Acoustic, not electric. It was something...safe that I could still enjoy."

Connie considered the words. Yes, something physically safe, that was a creative outlet. Music, for many, was a way to regulate emotions. Express them when words failed. "I envy any musical talent," she confessed with a small chuckle. "It is a very balanced hobby. Full of self expression, of...beauty."

"Why envy? You could learn to play," Vesper shook her head with a gentle smile, her eyes honest, clearly believing it. "It's like any skill...you learn, practice, keep going..."

"Tell that to my piano teacher," Connie said deadpan before she smiled, her eyes shining. "Apparently I...lack the flow of music. Not tone deaf, yet..." she raised an eyebrow, playfully. "No, I'd...rather enjoy listening to someone play."

"A lovely option too," Vesper agreed with a gentle smile, letting out a soft breath as she reached for her tea. "I've been told music is therapeutic. But...I guess you'd know more about that. I find it calms me down though."

Connie gave her a nod in agreement, not at whether or not she knew more, but that music did calm her down. "It does for me too," she finally said. "Although listening, obviously. Do you get much time to play since coming onboard?"

"Not yet," she admitted with a weak, half smile, resting against the arm of the chair. "There's been so much to do...so much to read and catch up on."

"I know you are dedicated," Connie said as she studied her over her cup. "I say this to every newly graduated Ensign. And Crewman. Pace yourself...take time for yourself too, don't get too lost in the work too quickly." A small smile curled her lips and she raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps one day, someone will actually do it."

Vesper watched her with surprise, letting out a soft breath as she stopped to think about the advice. "Can...I ask why?"

Connie looked down for a moment before she met her eyes. "It's easy to lose yourself here. The uniforms. The rules and regulations. The missions. But there are so many other aspects of a person than what they do. Don't...neglect those, just because of the work."

"Do...you really think there can be space for both?" Vesper asked quietly, her blue eyes searching Connie's. "My job is to adapt to the needs of others."

"Your job is to support your Captain," Connie said as she watched her, with a small smile. "And the Captain's responsibility is to his crew...to you as well. There can be space for both. You might have to carve it some days, but you are strong, stubborn...and can achieve anything you want."

Vesper chuckled softly, colour reaching her cheeks as she looked down, shaking her head at the compliment. "You think so, hm?" she teased back sceptically.

"I know so," Connie said as she watched the younger woman. "I have read your file, Vesper. You are a fighter."

Vesper's blush deepened and she couldn't meet her eyes. She wasn't sure she deserved the compliment. "I don't know. Sometimes I just feel like a fraud," she admitted softly.

"That is a very normal feeling," she said softly, watching Vesper for a moment before looking away, to give her some time to regain her composure. "And if you want to, we can work on that. But...I have also found that in some cases it eases, with time, as you settle in more."

Vesper nodded gently to that. She hoped so. She just felt so...green compared to everyone else. "Is it naive? To think that you can make a difference in such a big fleet?"

"No," Connie smiled, shaking her head, with warmth. "It's not naive. It's beautiful, Vesper, and it's not something to grow out of. It's something to grow with." she said, her voice gentle. "And what Starfleet is about...individuals wanting to make a positive difference."

Vesper relaxed at the words, letting out a soft breath as she decided Connie meant it and wasn't just saying it to make her feel better. "I know I'm not...the perfect officer. But there's things I want to do...and see."

Connie nodded, holding her eyes before she smiled. She wouldn't correct her...not because she didn't think she was worthy of correction, but because she had pushed her far enough already. "I suspect...you will do more and see more than you ever thought you'd do."

"Have you?" Vesper asked openly, watching her with wide, blue eyes as she sipped her tea delicately.

"Hm..." Connie looked down into her tea before tapping her finger against the rim. "I think...I've learned a lot about who I am in Starfleet," she said as she met her eyes. "It wasn't how I planned it. Not how I...envisioned it at the Academy. I thought, within reason, that the system was infallible. I was wrong. But...if Starfleet was perfect, I wouldn't have the chance to work on making my part of it better for others. Or to...irritate various senior officers in meeting rooms."

"And if it was perfect, you'd probably be out of a job," Vesper chuckled softly but knowingly, breathing in the whisps of steam, enjoying the calming scent. "Nothing's ever perfect. All you can do is play the best hand you can with the cards you're dealt...know when to hold them, when to play them and when to fold them." She paused for a moment, until she couldn't hold the smile back any longer. "I'd like to say that was my wisdom on display...but it's from a song."

"I don't know it," Connie said, but there was warmth in it as she watched the woman. At how she was relaxing. "The song. But...I do know something..." she raised an eyebrow, with warmth. "You are going to be fine here...and you're going to do good work."

Vesper held her breath at the words, at the hope that sprung up with them. She gave her a shy but grateful smile, glancing down with a soft laugh. "I really hope you're right, Connie. I really hope you're right."

---

Lt. JG Connie Montoya
Counsellor
USS Guinevere

Ensign Vesper Wells
Yeoman
USS Guinevere

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