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Bad Cadet

Summary: How Hoshi Sato, cunning linguist, bad cadet and bad ass, was dishonourably discharged from Starfleet Command School and what happened when she was drafted back in. (Part of the Bad Ensign Stories collection.)

Characters: Sato, Hernandez, Archer

Codes: Hernandez/Sato, Archer/Hernandez

Disclaimer: Paramount/CBS own all rights to the Star Trek universe and its characters, which I am borrowing without permission or intent to profit.

Notes: The ‘Bad Ensign’ game is played in dorm rooms across Starfleet Academy, spanning generations … but how far back in Starfleet history does the tradition go?


This is not exactly an origin story, but it does go to show that Starfleet officers have been very, very bad for a very, very long time.


Rated M

2. Bad Language

“I’m sorry,” Hoshi Sato said flatly to the woman on the other side of her apartment door. “I speak thirty-two languages, but I’m having trouble understanding you.”

Erika Hernandez bit back a sigh; she’d known this was going to be less than easy. “I’ll use smaller words, then. Starfleet wants you back.”

The set of the younger woman’s jaw was mulish and, Erika reflected, probably intended to be hostile, but her features were so pretty and delicate that the effect was less than terrifying. Still, it wouldn’t be smart to underestimate her. That was the mistake Paris had made, and he’d ended up with a fractured radius for it.

“Could I come inside?”

“Why?” Hoshi folded her arms.

“Because some of what I’m about to tell you is classified,” Erika explained patiently, “and besides, I’ve come a long way, and it’s cold in your hallway.” She quirked a smile. “Who lives in Joensuu by choice, anyway?”

Hoshi didn’t deign to answer, but she did turn on her heel and wave a hand for Erika to follow her. The apartment was full of sunlight and warm wood, and Erika could hear a female voice speaking a foreign language from somewhere inside.

She was about to ask if Hoshi had guests when the younger woman walked over to shut the lid on a computer and the voice died. Work, Erika realised.

“Start talking,” Hoshi demanded, waving Erika to the couch and taking up position against the opposite wall.

“You’ve heard of the Warp Five program, right?” Erika asked, and continued without waiting for Hoshi’s acknowledgement, “The first ship is expected to be ready for launch in a couple of years’ time, and who knows where she’ll go? Who knows how many alien cultures we’ll run across out there, and how many languages we’ll learn?”

Watching Hoshi’s face carefully for signs of interest and finding none, Erika leaned forward, injecting urgency into her tone.

“Don’t you want to be the one who learns them?” she asked. “Can you imagine it, Hoshi? The first to discover new syntaxes, new grammatical structures … new, uh,” she grasped for inspiration, “curse words?”

Perseennuolija,” enunciated Hoshi, with relish.

Erika blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Look it up sometime,” Hoshi advised. “Suffice it to say, Commander, I’m already learning some fine new curse words.”

“Apparently so,” Erika said dryly. “And of the languages you’ve learned to curse in, how many are alien?”

“One,” Hoshi admitted after a begrudging pause.

Erika let that sink in for a moment. “In any case,” she went on smoothly, “you might recall that Starfleet has the right to recall you to service at any time, despite the circumstances of your discharge.”

Hoshi scowled. “Does Commander Archer have anything to do with this?”

“Actually, he’s about to be Captain Archer,” Erika informed her, keeping her tone completely free of the feelings the statement engendered in her.

Or so she believed, until Hoshi’s eyes narrowed. “You’re jealous.”

Erika opened her mouth to deny it, decided jealousy was a far simpler emotion than the conflicted mess of them she was, apparently, not concealing particularly well, and shut it again.

“And you’re pissed,” Hoshi said. “You don’t think he deserves it.”

“Why would I think that?” Erika asked, genuinely curious.

“You said he was a bad cadet and a bad ensign. You think he’s going to be a bad captain. Don’t you?”

There was a beat of silence. And then Erika snorted.

“What’s funny?” Hoshi glared at her. Then, “Oh, vittu. The game …”

“Then you do know it.” Erika was grinning now. “I wasn’t sure. You were only at the academy for two months…”

“Long enough,” drawled Hoshi. “And it seems to me like you’ve already lost. Maybe it’s my turn to be captain.”

Erika suppressed the frisson of excitement Hoshi’s words stirred in her. “So you think I’m a bad ensign?”

Hoshi nodded, straight-faced, dark eyes smouldering.

“A bad, bad ensign?” Erika repeated slowly, taking one step toward Hoshi. And then another.

It might have been her imagination, but it seemed to her that Hoshi’s lips parted, just enough to allow her tongue to moisten them.

She was close enough now to feel the warmth of Hoshi’s skin and see the quick beat of the pulse in her throat. “I’ve been so bad,” Erika whispered, leaning in still closer, so close her lips brushed Hoshi’s ear. “So very, very bad…”

Jumalauta,” hissed Hoshi, as Erika’s fingers slithered under her shirt and cupped her bare breasts.

“Such bad language, Captain,” Erika scolded.

But anything else she’d intended to say was swallowed in the heat of Hoshi’s lips on hers, and later, deliciously, on other parts of her.

“So you’ll re-enlist?” Erika asked her, much later, trailing the tips of her fingers along the slight curve of Hoshi’s bare hip.


“Because you lost the game?”

“Oh, I was always going to re-enlist, from the moment you showed up at my apartment. It had nothing to do with the game.” Hoshi smirked. “I just wanted to make you work for it.”

“Bad, bad cadet,” Erika scolded her, nipping lightly at Hoshi’s earlobe.

“And anyway,” Hoshi growled as she rolled her lover onto her back and slid down her body, down until her voice was muffled between Erika’s thighs, “I never lose.”


Perseennuolija = Ass licker

Vittu = Fuck

Jumalauta = God help me

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