"Ravioli! Ravioli!"
"Jimothy! Jimothy!"
"Shut up."
"You asked for it. Now—what are you doing in my dorm room? Where's that roommate of mine when you need her?"
"Dude, we made it!"
"It's five in the morning, even I don't wake up that early to train. What've you been doing?"
"Hacking into the Academy's records."
"James Tiberius Kirk."
"Oh, come on, don't middle name me! The three of us are in! We passed the exam!"

Ravi rolled over, tangled in her blankets. She stared at Jim for a moment, before abruptly sitting up in bed. Her hair was a mess, half tangled in itself and in her ears, and she could barely see through it. Disregarding her less than decent attire, she pushed her hair out of her face and stood, rushing over to Jim to pull the PADD out of his hands.

"That's a look," Jim said, looking Ravi up and down.
"Under normal circumstances, I'd reprimand you for hacking—"
"Well, bribing, actually. There was this really cute officer—"
"I don't want to know, Jim," Ravi interrupted, still focused on the PADD. "Huh, you got a higher score than I expected. Of course, my score is near perfect."
"Okay, rude," Jim said, walking around the room. He picked up a pillow on Ravi's bed and tossed it at her. "Come on, Whiz Kid, get dressed—we've got to register for the flight tomorrow."
"Don't call me a Whiz Kid, Jimothy."
"Get your scrawny ass into some pants and let's go!" Jim called as he exited the room.
"Who're you calling scrawny!?" Ravi shouted after him. "Have you seen my arse!?"

Stardate 2255.239

Riverside Shipyard, Earth, Sol System, Alpha Quadrant

The world was as silent. The sun was still resolutely below the horizon and the street was dark, only lit by the occasional street lamp of an old town. The sound of Jim's old rented car was the only thing Ravi and Jóhann could hear—it was the sound of them travelling to the shuttles that'd take them to Starfleet Academy in San Francisco. In this light, the Riverside Shipyard Ravi was staring at in the distance looked even more impressive, especially the nearly completed construction of the newest flagship.

By the time they'd reached the shipyard, the sun had begun rising. Hues of lavender and vermillion painted the sky, and as the sounds of Jim's car died down, the sounds of people began to rise. He parked his car in some random spot and tossed the keys to another random man, as he'd done with his motorcycle. Ravi went over and patted him on the shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. She was energized, the buzzing sound of chatter and laughter lighting up her mind.

"You look like you're about to burst," Jim commented, giving Ravi a fond look.
"I am not about to burst, Jim," she said with a small sigh.
"You are, Rav," Jóhann chuckled.

He and Jim knowingly looked at Ravi and she offered him nothing but an unimpressed glance. The three of them made their way to the shuttles, conversing with a few friends along the way. Ravi logged herself, Jóhann and Jim into the flight manifest while Jim was flirting with some woman again until Ravi forcefully dragged Jim and her brother away from her.

"Oh, come on, Ravioli—
"Ravi. Ra—vi. Too many syllables, Jim."
"—the women love me, and you're depriving them of me."
"They're better off without you."
"Come on, you can't say Jim isn't a fine specimen," Jóhann joked.
"You're not a fine specimen," Ravi stated flatly, looking at Jim. "There you go—fully capable."

Jim playfully smacked Ravi on the arm and pulled a face at her.

"You're such a child."
"And you're no fun."
"I am plenty of fun."
"Last time I told you to go out and have fun, you went to the training rooms and kicked a mannequin for two hours," Jóhann said with a sigh.
"I wouldn't expect much from a Vulcan."

Ravi, Jóhann and Jim turned to the voice. It was an Andorian cadet—something just as rare as a Vulcan or Romulan in Starfleet. Ravi scoffed.

"I wouldn't either," she said with a smirk. "Good thing I'm not Vulcan."
"You sure look like one."
"What is your name, Cadet?" Ravi asked.
"Eshevaas Th'zhehret," he said proudly.
"Well, Cadet Th'zhehret, I may look like a Vulcan but I'm as far from one as you can get."

He looked at her suspiciously for a moment then seemed to relax.

"You're the Romulan."
"Guilty."
"My apologies."
"Don't worry about it. My name is Ravi," the girl said, extending a hand. The cadet looked at it for a moment and shook her hand. "Don't get us mixed up."
"Won't happen again."
"Although..."

As Ravi, Jim and Jóhann were about to turn around and continue their way towards the shuttle, Ravi stopped and looked back at the Andorian. She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed just hard enough for it to cause a little discomfort.

"I don't need to remind you that the Andorian Empire and the Vulcan High Command have been at peace for a very long time. Behaviour like this reflects poorly on your people and the peace they've achieved. It would be wise for you not to judge people so quickly... don't you think?"

Ravi squeezed Th'zhehret's shoulder a bit and he winced slightly.

"Of course."
"Glad we could come to an agreement," Ravi said. She let go of the cadet's shoulder. "Good day, Th'zhehret."

Th'zhehret glared at Ravi and then marched off. Jim and Jóhann turned to her with a light smile.

"Couldn't you have been a little meaner?" Jóhann asked. "He was a right arse."
"Meaner? I couldn't possibly. He might tell Andorian bartenders not to sell me their ale."
"Glad to see you've got your priorities straight," Jim laughed. "You sure you're not just a really mean human with glued on ears?"
"Nah, Jim. I'm Romulan."

Ravi winked at him and her brother, then they all resumed their walk to the shuttles ahead. They checked with the flight officers and got their shuttle number, then proceeded to find the number "42" in a sea of a hundred shuttles—it took a short while and Ravi almost lost Jóhann, but they made it in one piece. Jim banged his head on the low clearance beams inside the shuttle a few times, which made everyone nearby laugh, but with one stern glance at each of them, Ravi made them stop.

They took their seats near cadet Uhura, who gave Jim a playfully annoyed smile. He still annoyed her since their first encounter, but Uhura had grown to at least respect the man. The other four cadets that Jim and Ravi had gotten into a fight with were seated nearby as well, and Jim made a few playful jabs at them before Ravi insisted he not antagonise them any further. She didn't want to get into another fight with them.

"All right, this is it, Rav!" Jim said, smiling.
"You did a complete one-eighty, Jim. Just two months ago I would have said Starfleet and you'd have punched me," Ravi said, looking at her friend with an amused expression.
"Hey, I'm only excited to prove Pike wrong, remember?"
"Yeah, right," Jóhann said, rolling his eyes. "I saw you cram for that final like your life depended on it."
"I would have loved to see that," Ravi chuckled.

Jim laughed loudly, and soon, the announcements in the shuttle began. Halfway through the safety announcements, Ravi heard a loud noise to her left. Her head turned on instinct, and Jim's eyes followed. He noted the small smirk on her lips.

"What is it?"
"Someone's grumpy."

As if on cue, a flight officer rushed out of the bathroom accompanied by a man. They were shouting at each other, and Ravi couldn't mistake that voice for anyone else even though she'd only heard it once.

"You need a doctor."
"I keep telling you people—I don't need a doctor, damn it, I am a doctor!"
"You need to get back to your seat."
"I had one—in the bathroom with no windows!"

Ravi snorted and stifled her laughter as the man came into view. He was rather tall, with dark hair, and now that she was paying more attention, Ravi could hear a faint southern drawl in his voice.

The flight attendant and the man stopped in front of Jim, Jóhann and Ravi, who shared a look. Ravi was finding it hard to contain her amusement.

"You need to get back to your seat now."
"I suffer from aviophobia—that means the fear of dying in something that flies."
"Sir, for your own safety, sit down or I'll make you sit down!"

The man groaned and sighed, eventually relenting in taking the seat beside Ravi.

"I may throw up on ya," the man grumbled, buckling himself in.
"You know, these things are perfectly safe," Ravi said, smiling a little. "I'm sure these things are flight tested at least a little."
"Don't pander to me, you pointy-eared genius. One tiny crack in the hull and our blood boils in thirteen seconds. A solar flare might crop up and cook us in our seats. And wait until you're sittin' pretty with a case of Andorian shingles—see if you're still so relaxed when your eyeballs are bleeding. Space is disease and danger wrapped up in darkness and silence."
"Well, I hate to tell you this, but Starfleet operates in space," Jim interjected.
"Yeah, well, I got nowhere else to go. The ex-wife took the whole damn planet in the divorce. All I've got left is my bones."
"That's rough, buddy," Jóhann added, sighing.

The man rolled his eyes and pulled out a flask, taking a swig of it. He looked over to Ravi and offered her his flask. She shrug and took a swig, which confused the man, but he passed it down to Jim and Jóhann.

"Jim Kirk," Jim said as he returned the flask.
"McCoy. Leonard McCoy," the southern man said.
"Jóhann Isaacs. Just call me Han," Jóhann added.
"Name's Ravi."
"Just Ravi?" McCoy asked.
"Call her Ravioli—makes her ears go red," Jim chuckled.
"James Tiberius Kirk," Ravi said in a warning tone.
"Oh, middle name," McCoy chuckled. "You're in trouble."