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“I’m not approving this courseload, Saru.” Commander Rivera pushed the padd back across the polished desk.
“Sir?” It wasn’t the response Saru had expected. Here you go, Cadet, good luck with the semester, now let me get to the rest of my advisees.
Rivera gave him a withering look and stabbed a finger at the selection Saru had meticulously picked out. “Come on. You’ve got to be kidding. Advanced Xenolinguistics and Interspecies Diplomacy and Historical Development of Crisis Command Tactics? Not to mention the four other bangers you’ve got on here. Astrophysics has holo-labs that almost double the classroom commitment. You’re not going to have time to catch your breath.”
“I have accounted for that.” Saru tensed. “I assure you, I can handle it.”
“I’m sure you can. Heavens know I’m not doubting your abilities, or your dedication. But when four classes all have projects due at once, and the other three are expecting day-long exams or hands-on assignments? That’s not sustainable. Or healthy.”
“Work aboard a starship will require expertise in various fields and the ability to take on a range of difficult assignments without complaint,” Saru argued.
Rivera snorted. “On a starship, you’re usually focused on one division. Not the entire course catalog.”
Saru simply didn’t understand why a wide range of interests and the dedication to take them on was something worthy of this level of scorn. According to the guide and what he’d heard from other cadets, the repertoire he’d chosen was only a little more challenging than what he’d taken last semester, and that had gone well enough. Mostly.
He drew himself up. “Commander. I came to Starfleet Academy to learn. To make myself useful to a world beyond my own. I do not see how you can expect me to do otherwise when given the opportunity.”
Rivera sighed and waved a hand towards him. “All right. Sit down, so I’m not breaking my neck looking at you, and we’ll figure this out.”
Saru sat. Commander Rivera’s office wasn’t an uncomfortable place, far from it. There was a selection of chairs for students of various forms, and the desk was tidy and well-organized. The plain walls had been neatly hung with artwork and ornaments. An unobtrusive medal case sat on one shelf alongside a collection of small items Saru didn’t know the significance of and saw no reason to ask after.
But the wide window behind the Commander’s head looked out onto a busy green, and it took great effort for Saru to keep his attention from drifting to the crowds of students walking back and forth along the paths. Or the chatter of cadets in the halls behind him, or the vibrations from the conduits in the walls. Intellectually, he knew he was probably safer here at the heart of the Academy than anywhere else, but part of him was still always scanning his surroundings, alert for threats and hunters.
Fortunately, most of his teachers had been patient with him so far. Doing what they could to accommodate his needs while not compromising his education or training. He was deeply grateful for it. But it was not lost on him that nobody else needed those accommodations. Or that the inconvenience might easily count against him when he finally earned his commission and sought to serve on a starship.
“First of all,” Rivera said, bringing his attention back, “you’re not taking seven classes. Even an overachiever like you should see that that’s ridiculous.”
Saru hesitated. What was there he could say to make Rivera understand? He was starting from such a tremendous disadvantage compared to nearly every other student here. How could he not take every opportunity to learn what he’d never had the chance to before? Whole fields of study he’d never imagined even existed? Anything less would be an insult to all the work Philippa Georgiou had done to bring him here.
“I have applied for dispensation for the additional credits-” he tried, a sinking feeling growing in his stomach.
“And I denied it,” Rivera interrupted. “Don’t look so offended, Cadet. I’m not letting any student of mine work themself to death before they’ve even gotten a placement. And after last semester, I think you need to reconsider a few things.”
Saru bristled at the morbid phrasing. And at the visceral memory of medical tricorders shoved in his face after the unfortunate incident last semester. He’d been assured that it wouldn’t go on his service record, but Rivera at least seemed unwilling to forget it.
Rivera tapped a few buttons and brought up two displays: the Academy course catalog on one, and Saru’s student schedule on the other. The latter was all but smothered in colored blocks.
“Right. Which one of these are we losing first?” Rivera swept a hand towards the list of courses. “I want to get you down to five at the most, especially if there’s labs involved.”
Saru sighed. “...Survey of Aquatic Biology,” he decided. “And I suppose I can save Astrophysics for next semester.”
Rivera gave him a rare smile. “Good, good. You’re learning.” A few taps, and the calendar became noticeably less cluttered. The little red warning icons from the catalog vanished too. “There, now that’s something I’m willing to sign off on. If you’re really that interested in the ones you dropped, you can find some recorded lectures or holo-demos. Not that I’d suggest it with the amount of work you’ll have.”
Saru inclined his head. “I understand.”
Rivera gave him a long look over the calendar. “I certainly hope you do.”
“Will that be all, Commander?” Saru asked, as lightly as he could.
He got an amused grumble in return. “Settle down, we’re not done yet.” Rivera pulled up another screen. “Usually I’ll wait another semester before insisting, but given everything, I’ll tell you now. You need to specialize. You can’t just keep dancing all over the curriculum. Knowing you, I’m sure something’s caught your eye by now. Well? Out with it.”
Saru took a breath. “I’ve been…” The idea suddenly sounded fanciful, even arrogant. But he had to say it. He owed it to himself, and others he had yet to meet. “I’ve been researching the First Contact Specialist certification.”
“Perfect!” Rivera declared, loudly enough to startle him. “There’s nobody better for that job than someone who’s been through it himself.”
Saru settled himself again, with effort, as Rivera tapped away on the console.
“Good. We’ll get you set up with an advisor for that. And it’ll guide your graduate placement too. It’s a tough one, though, I’ll warn you that.”
“I am aware. And prepared for the work.” He’d accept any amount of work if it meant that he could do for others what Philippa had done for him.
“Of course you are.” Rivera closed the screens. But to Saru’s chagrin, they still weren’t done yet. “Good. Now that that’s decided, on to the next point of order. I’ve been looking at your extracurriculars, and I have to say they seem a little dry.”
What was that supposed to mean? And how many of his academic choices were going to be questioned today? “I’ve received favorable reports for my work on-”
Rivera didn’t even let him finish. “Yes, that’s just it. Work.”
“Sir?” For someone who always favored being straightforward, Rivera was also remarkably good at turning innocuous statements into riddles.
“You need time for socializing.” At Saru’s somewhat alarmed expression, Rivera added, “Don’t worry, I’m not saying you need to go to parties or anything like that. But do something that’s not studying all day, all right? Do you like chess? Holomovies? Cooking?”
That seemed entirely a non-sequitur. “I have played chess, yes.” Philippa had taught him, back on the Archimedes, in those days when everything was new to him.
“Join the chess club, then. I’ll send you their contact details.”
That, on top of all the rest, was just a little more imposition than Saru was willing to bear without protest.
“I’ll remind you that I am not a child,” he added, before realizing the words were plaintive enough to belay his point. “I can choose my own activities.”
Rivera wasn’t impressed. “You think only kids like hanging out with their friends?” A sigh. “It’s just as important for adult students. Maybe more so. You need to make connections with people, because you’ll be serving alongside them, and you won’t work well together if you’re looking at them like a bunch of kids.”
It was a worthy sentiment. On Kaminar, he thought, grief welling in his heart at the memory, people of all ages interacted, shared games and work and songs. But it was still the duty of the old to teach the young, and the duty of the young to listen.
He glanced out the window again, at the cheerful crowds of students, so many disparate species walking together. Most of them were young, yes, but they would grow.
Someday, maybe, he would be in a position to teach people like that.
“I see,” he said, and ducked his head. “I apologize for the outburst.”
A soft laugh. “It’s worth watching your tongue, yes, but who knows, you might find a captain who appreciates the honesty.”
He’d have to graduate first.
Rivera gave another sigh, and for a moment Saru again believed their meeting was over.
“That schedule you came to me with…” Rivera went on, “just the fact that you apparently didn’t see a problem with that raises several questions.”
“Sir, I’ve accepted your alterations...”
“Relax, Cadet, you’re not in trouble.” Saru still didn’t find that particularly reassuring, but he fell silent anyway. “I just need you to listen to me. Because I’ve had to tell a lot of my students this. And so far I’ve had a pretty good track record with them not coming back chopped into pieces and draped in a flag, and I’m not willing to break that record. Especially with a new species.”
More morbid talk, more images to set Saru’s nerves on edge. He wasn’t sure if the human noted him recoil ever so slightly at the words.
“So remember this, Cadet. Part of being a good officer is knowing your limits. If you try to take on more than you can handle, you’re eventually going to falter, and that’s not going to be good for anyone. Sometimes you have to know when to say no, or when to accept others’ help. And that’s a strength, not a weakness. Understood?”
It wasn’t the first time Saru had heard almost that exact statement. He still wasn’t willing to let his… limits allow anyone to cast aspersions on him or his people.
But he knew Rivera wasn’t going to accept any argument.
“Understood,” Saru said, as heartfelt as he could.
A smile. “Good. You’re dismissed, Cadet. Keep in touch, be sure to tell me if anything comes up when classes start. I’ll probably want to meet again in a few weeks to make sure it’s all working out.”
“Thank you, Commander.” Saru rose, took his padd, and headed for the door, bracing himself for the onslaught of noise from the corridor where dozens of other students waited at their advisors’ doors.
“And, one more thing.”
Saru turned. “Commander?”
“You don’t need to be perfect, Cadet. You’re here for a reason, and you’ve already proven yourself more than worthy of being here. Starfleet isn’t in the habit of letting just anybody in.”
Saru nodded. It was a small comfort, set against all his doubts, but it was a comfort nonetheless. “Thank you.”
“Go on. You’ll do well, I’m sure of it.”