First Date before a First Mission

Posted on Thursday January 29, 2026 @ 5:22am by Lieutenant Commander T'Prin Price & Lieutenant Michael Caulfield

2,455 words; about a 12 minute read

Mission: Episode 1: A New Frontier
Location: Michael's Quarters

Michael was setting the table far later than he’d intended. His day had gotten away from him, and now he was rushing to catch up. Thankfully, he’d taken the time to get a shower and change into something comfortable, but nice. He knew he only had one chance to make a good impression, and he didn’t want to blow it.

T’Prin had debated about cancelling, or at least postponing. Ramat’iklan wasn’t wrong in that she’d have preferred to know more about Michael before having dinner with him, but she supposed she’d have to learn on the fly. She’d looked up his file, gotten some basic information, but ultimately she decided she’d keep to her word and hope it wasn’t a mistake. She walked up to his quarters and rang the chime, trying not to look nervous.

Michael almost dropped the glasses he’d been carrying when the door chime sounded. He put them down quickly and rushed over to the door, hitting the panel. When the doors opened, his breath caught in his throat. T’Prin was standing there in a royal blue dress that made her emerald green eyes pop. It was both elegant and simple, and it took his breath away. His khaki pants and polo shirt suddenly seemed underdressed. He wondered if it would look weird if he suddenly asked to go change, then he wondered if he should just grab her and kiss her right there. He had practiced what he was going to say when she arrived, because he wanted to make sure it sounded perfect. Unfortunately, nothing he’d rehearsed was coming to mind. Before he could ad-lib something, she smiled at him and reached out. He felt his heart pound in his throat, wondering if she was leaning in for a kiss already. He started to reach out as well.

T’Prin’s hand made contact with Michael’s chin and lifted it gently, closing his mouth. She grinned with amusement, and blushed at the unspoken compliment. “Hi,” she said.

Michael shook himself and blushed red with embarrassment. “Hey,” he said, smiling. “Please, come in.” He stepped aside and gestured into his quarters.

T’Prin walked past him, her skin coming back from a slightly minty color to her normal shade as well. She hid her smile and looked around. The quarters had most of the standard furniture, but there was a quilt over the couch, art on the walls that wasn’t Starfleet’s standard banal space art, and a reading lamp that looked like something from Earth decor. “Looks cozy,” she said.

Michael grinned. “Thanks. I travel light, but my mom made sure I shipped out with some homey touches.”

“I like it,” T’Prin said, grinning. She held out a wine bottle. “Some sparkling apple cider. One of my favorites. I hope it goes with what you have planned.”

“I’m sure it will,” Michael said. He placed it on the table. “Unfortunately, I got a bit held up, so we’re going to replicate on the fly.” He pulled out a chair for her.

T’Prin sat down gracefully and let him push her chair in. She watched with amusement as he rushed to the replicator, and a moment later brought over two bowls.

“I did some research on Vulcan food,” he said. “How does plomeek soup sound to start?”

T’Prin nodded. “Sounds nice,” she said. “What else is in store?”

“Well,” Michael said, setting down the bowls and sitting across from her, “I’ve also planned a pretty hearty salad and some roasted vegetables.”

“Lovely. What else?” T’Prin said, trying the soup. It was a bit thinner than she was used to, but homemade was always different than trying something elsewhere.

Michael looked unsure of himself suddenly. “I…hadn’t planned anything else. I assumed you were a vegetarian.”

T’Prin gave a giggle. “So…side dishes for dinner?”

“I…am not really familiar with vegetarian cuisine,” Michael said. “My parents are both from cattle country, so meat was a big part of our diet. And I haven’t had much time to look it up since we last talked, so I--”

“Michael,” T’Prin said, smiling and putting him out of his misery, “it’s okay. As it so happens, I’m a pescatarian. What are your feelings about fish?”

“Passing acquaintances,” Michael said, giving a small shrug. “In Montana they’re as much for sport as for food.”

“Well, tell you what. I’ll choose one of my favorites after the salad course, and you pick dessert,” T’Prin said.

“Deal,” Michael said, relieved, glad for the help. “I suppose I should have asked you what you enjoy, rather than assume it’s Vulcan food.”

T’Prin shrugged. “I enjoy a lot of Vulcan dishes, and a lot of human dishes, and others. My mom did most of the “cooking” growing up. My father was a brilliant scientist, but he was not very savvy with replicators. On the nights Mom had to pull a double shift, or was on an away mission, Father would replicate only the most basic meals for us, and only Vulcan food. You would have thought we’d said something obscene when my brother Patrick once asked for a…” she paused and looked around dramatically, then leaned in conspiratorially. “A peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

Michael laughed. “Oh, the horror,” he said. T’Prin laughed as well and Michael was stunned by the sound. It was almost musical. “My mom is a fantastic cook,” he said. “My dad did pretty well with a grill. They taught me a few things, but being on a starship it’s all replicated food anyway. Makes me appreciate real food that much more.”

“Oh, same,” T’Prin said. “My ko'mekh-il makes the most amazing plomeek soup. Replicated never tastes as good.” She realized what that meant for their meal and shrugged an apology. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. This is a very good traditional style,” she said, finishing her portion.

“Well, maybe we should move on to the next course,” Michael said. He stood up and cleared their bowls, then tapped the replicator again, bringing back a tray with two small bowls, a large serving bowl containing a robust salad, and a carafe of light-green liquid. “Most people think cattle ranchers avoid greens, but my mother made some pretty elaborate mixes,” he said. “Of course, a salad is only as good as the dressing, but I think you’ll appreciate the flavor here.”

He served each of them a good portion of the greens and other salad veggies and handed her the carafe first. “Enjoy.”

T’Prin pulled out the stopper and inhaled, an eyebrow raising. She poured one small drop on the tip of her index finger and put it into her mouth. Her eyes went wide and she smiled. “That is excellent,” she said. “It tastes like….I have no idea. What is it?”

Michael grinned both at the look on her face and the fact she liked it. “Honey, key lime and ginger,” he said.

“Key lime? You mean limes, the citrus?” T’Prin said.

“Similar, kind of a cousin to regular limes,” Michael said. “A rare Earth fruit that is a bit less sour and more tart than regular limes.”

“I will definitely need to try them more,” T’Prin said, pouring some liberally onto her salad. “You’re from Earth, then? A proper Terran?”

“Yes,” Michael said, a tinge of pride in his voice. “Bozeman, Montana.”

“Bozeman? I’ve been there!” T’Prin said, excitedly.

“Let me guess,” Michael said with a knowing grin. “Your first weekend off from the Academy after starting Federation History, you and your friends stole away to Historical Bozeman for ‘research purposes.’

T’Prin had a mouthful of salad but smiled as she chewed and gave a playful shrug. “Maybe,” she said eventually.

“‘Maybe?’” Michael prodded.

T’Prin rolled her eyes and smiled. “All right, fine. Yes. I still have the tshirt.”

Michael grinned. “I have mine too.”

T’Prin gave another musical laugh. “I’m sure you have plenty.”

“From when I was a kid, sure,” Michael said. “But the only one that fits me now is the one I got when I was at the Academy.”

“But you live there,” T’Prin said. “Surely you must go there all the time.”

“As a kid? Absolutely,” Michael said. “Riding the Phoenix was the best thing ever as a kid. But, the thing about having it in your backyard is that it just kinda becomes….there.” He gave a shrug. “It’s not as special after a while. But getting a chance to go with my Quadmates? I wouldn’t have missed that for anything. Plus, we all got to go to my house for dinner. A home cooked meal was the highlight of the day.”

“I grew up on a starship, so ‘home cooked’ meant replicated,” she said. “The Captain hosted dinners sometimes with some things freshly cooked, but more often than not it was replicated. Real food was considered a treat, especially if it came from my grandparents. That’s what inspired me to learn to cook for myself.”

“You know how to cook?” Michael said.

“Oh yes. My mother and I spent hours practicing in the holodeck. I can fillet a fish like an Orion assassin.” She gave him a smile as they finished their salads. “Speaking of, I believe it’s my turn.”

T’Prin stood up and walked to his replicator, accessing her favorites. “Okay, let’s try something special.” She accessed one of her favorite dishes, and brought two plates from the replicator back to the table.

“Interesting…” Michael said, looking at it. “What is it?”

“Potato-wrapped red snapper with creamy leeks, and a balsamic glaze,” T’Prin said.

“Smells great,” Michael said, digging in.

T’Prin smiled, poured out the sparkling cider she’d brought, and began eating as well. They chewed in satisfied silence for a few minutes until she broke the silence. “So, tell me about your family?”

Michael paused his enthusiastic appreciation of the meal and swallowed, then took a long drink of the cider to clear the airways. “I’m the second of four kids, two brothers and one sister, which, according to my sister, is three brothers too many.”

T’Prin laughed. “I have an older brother as well. His name’s Patrick. We get along very well, though. Living on a starship means you have to get used to being in close quarters with a sibling at all times.”

“I suppose I’m a bit spoiled, then,” Michael said. “We’ve got a good-sized house to stretch out in.” He chewed thoughtfully for a moment. “Is your whole family in Starfleet?”

“My father is Chief Science Officer and my mother is Chief Engineer aboard the USS Herophilos,” she said. “My brother’s a civilian scientist, a biologist.”

“Herophilos? That’s an Earth name, it sounds like,” Michael said.

“Greek, if I remember the lesson,” T’Prin said, thinking. “An ancient Earth physician who was one of the first to study anatomy. The Herophilos is a hospital ship. Well, hospital battleship, really. They’re equipped to deal with anything from a plague to a warzone medical emergency.”

“Wow,” Michael said, genuinely impressed. “I guess you’ve seen a thing or two in your time on board, then.”

T’Prin nodded. “Yeah they’ve been through a few things, but most of it was routine. For me, it was school time, then off to the playground areas in the garden sections to play with the other children, then back home for dinner.”

They finished their entrees, and Michael replicated a slice of chocolate cake for each of them for dessert and a cup of coffee. They moved to his couch and continued to talk about their families, home lives and hobbies.

“Same as you, my mother insisted,” Michael said, taking a bite of cake. “I practiced the piano like clockwork three times per week since I was eight.”

“Four, here,” T’Prin said. “I was allowed to swim in the recreational pool if I did all my practice.”

“I love swimming too,” Michael said, smiling. “For me it was in a lake near the back edge of the ranch.” He took another bite. “How about pets? We have an old, chocolate labrador dog named Lucky. He’s the size of a shuttlepod, but he thinks he’s a lap dog.”

T’Prin smiled and shook her head. “No, we couldn’t. With both my parents being senior staff, and my brother and I too young to take care of one ourselves, it wouldn’t have been feasible. Still, I might enjoy having something to cuddle someday.”

Michael put down his empty plate on his coffee table and leaned against the back of the couch with a grin. “Well, I mean, if you need a volunteer….”

T’Prin blushed again, but smiled. She liked his confidence, even if it was a bit premature. She looked at the chronometer on his wall. “Maybe another time. I should be going. I have an early shift tomorrow.”

If Michael was trying to hide his disappointment, he was doing a lousy job. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. He stood up and brought his hand up in a Vulcan salute. “But I’m glad you came. It’s been great getting to know you.”

T’Prin stood as well and gave him a warm smile. “I’m glad I came as well,” she said. “We’ll have to do this again soon.”

Michael hesitated, then decided to go for it. “Maybe a holodeck program together?”

T’Prin gave him another smile, this time more reserved and polite. “Maybe. I’ll let you know. Goodnight, Michael.”

“Goodnight, T’Prin,” he said, walking her to his door.

She walked out of his quarters smoothly, not letting him see the amused grin on her face, or the mint-green tinge on her cheeks from his expression. She didn’t regret going, but she wasn’t about to completely tip her hand.

As the doors closed, he immediately began reviewing how the date went in his head. Overall, he felt it was the least eventful first date he’d ever had. It was quiet, easygoing, and they had a good conversation; hardly the kind of over-the-top romance you read about in holonovels. Thoroughly uneventful. Still, it had one thing going for it: he’d met the girl he was going to marry.

 

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