AN: It looks like everyone skipped the actual launch of the Ambys and just went to the shakedown event. So, I decided to whip this together.
~~~~~
Ambassador Launch Party
A lone bottle arced lazily through the thin and dusty upper atmosphere of Mars, glinting briefly under the haze of filtered sunlight and nearby drydock lights, before splintering into a bloom of glass shards and liquid droplets upon impacting against gleaming metal hull. The camera zoomed outwards, away from the insignificant mass of glittering debris, compared to the massive bulk of the behemoth that was rising from its birthing cradle. A newborn starship broke free of its moorings, her more renowned sibling just a bare moment behind her.
Mad cheering had crescendoed in the main reception hall of the Utopia Planitia Fleetyard orbital complex, all eyes fixed on the two large displays showing the official launch sequence of the two Ambassador class starships. Smaller holographic windows peppered the edges of the hall here and there, displaying various particularly hologenic sensor outputs and camera shots of the departing ships, or the myriad news media streams covering the event.
A gaggle of Starfleet Academy cadets huddled near a corner of the hall, not too far from one of the buffet tables. Their attempt at awed inobstrustiveness was somewhat marred by the fact that several of them were still halfway in costume from the play they had performed in the earlier pre-launch presentation.
"I don't get it," Akesh Momon spoke up, waving his half-empty glass of Qlaothi ceremonial wine pointedly. "What's destroying alcohol have to do with launching a ship?"
"An ancient Earth tradition, Cadet," came the answer from Commander Rondeau, the chaperone of the motley Academy group. "It's a gesture for good luck that goes all the way back to to the days of naval ships."
"They didn't do that when the Voshov launched from Lor'vela," a first year Tellarite cadet couldn't resist protesting.
"It's mainly just done at the San Francisco and Utopia Planitia yards," Rondeau amended with a shrug. "Still over half the new ships for the Fleet most years."
"Why a bottle of Miruvorie for the Ambassador though?" an Amarki cadet piped up next. "I've never even heard of the brand back home, it's so obscure."
"Oh, I know this one!" Momon interrupted before their instructor could respond. "Historians believe it's a derivative of the ancient Orion drink called Miruboze, probably introduced to Amarkia from cultural contamination during the Orion Imperial era."
The Amarki cadet scowled at the explanation. "What, so because the captain is an Orion, they decided to pick an Amarki drink that came from Orion instead of just picking an Orion drink?"
"Miruvorie was also a commonly used ceremonial drink in the early days of Amarki spaceflight, before it went out of fashion about a century ago," Rondeau added mildly. "However, you'll find, cadets, that a lot of the symbolic gestures in events such as this one are more likely to be the end result of political maneuvering."
There was a brief silence as the cadets digested the lecture. Then, one of the civilians who'd accompanied the group spoke up tentatively.
"The 2301 Dom Pérignon for the Enterprise is very traditional, though," said the young man. "My parents are vintners, and I heard that Dom Pérignon reserves some bottles every year a keel is laid down or a five year mission starts."
"You're right," Rondeau confirmed. "In Enterprise's case, it's more likely that politics were involved in preventing some ideas from going through." He smirked. "As a matter of fact, we came very close to getting a bottle of Vin Du Andor or Romulan Ale from Admiral Nash's private stock."
Several eyes tore away from the vid screens to stare at the instructor in surprise.
"Isn't Romulan Ale...illegal?" Momon asked what was on everyone's mind.
Rondeau waved a hand. "If it's given to you in a formal fleet ops by the woman who's now sitting in the Emperor's chair, then it's a diplomatic gift."
~~~~~
"Leaving already, Reng?"
Specialist Reng Yanag slowed in his walk down the corridors and turned his head to greet the familiar voice.
"Iniu, long time no see. I didn't think this was your kind of event."
His taller Gaeni friend caught up with a few quick strides of his longer legs.
"It isn't," Dr. Iniu Sad-harr agreed, smiling at his former Academy classmate. "But after one too many
accusations of poisoning and instances of
actual food poisoning between the Romulan and Klingon delegations and, well, here I am."
Yanag snorted. "People actually
let you mess with food nowadays? Oh how things have changed." He remembered in their Academy days, everyone including the instructors had threatened the man next to him to
not experiment with anything that others were going to eat.
Sad-harr rolled his eyes behind the thick layer of his smart-glasses. The same sentiment had gotten tiresome after hearing it for the umpteenth time. "Yes, yes, so I have the last laugh. How have
you being doing, Reng?"
"The Isolinear project keeps me very busy with a great amount of data," Yanag replied, letting the previous subject go. "To answer your question, yes, the Lightning is going to ship out soon. We're supposed to shadow the Ambassador and the Enterprise to the outer edge of the Sol system, and then head onwards to Gaen."
"Why are you shadowing them?" Sad-harr asked curiously. "You're not carrying a media delegation if you're headed to Gaen."
Yanag shook his head. "No, we're to deliver the delegation of Gaeni technical observers back home. Officially, we're going to be taking some further readings of the Ambassador-class ships on their behalf..."
"Officially," Sad-harr echoed thoughtfully, "...so, unofficially?"
"I wouldn't have the clearance to know about any 'unofficial' orders," Yanag replied, then gave his companion a significant look. "But, half the people I've spoken to, especially among the old member races of the Federation, have all evinced the superstition that something will...'happen' on an Enterprise shakedown."
"The Fleet too, huh," Sad-harr murmured. At Yanag's frown, he elaborated on the cryptic phrase. "Lately the bets have been flying wild around the Academy on the same topic. It's almost as if people are taking it for granted that something abnormal will occur, it's just a matter of what." He smiled again. "It almost makes me want to go with you."
Yanag shot him a stern look. "Don't tell me you've gone native on me," he scolded his friend. "They said the same thing too when we installed in the isolinear computer system on the Lightning, but nothing
weird has happened with it these last few months."
"Alright, I won't ask if you've joined the betting then," Sad-harr chuckled, waving his hands in surrender. "I'll just wish you a quiet mission." He slowed down his gait as the two of them drew close to the transporter room.
"Oh I'm sure it's not going to be quiet with all those
Gaeni technicians running around," Yanag teased him as he stepped into the transporter room. "I'll send you a comms about that instead when I get to Gaen."
~~~~~
The second floor alcoves along the fleet-yard reception hall were more designed for technical access than for VIP reception, hence why there were few people present even during such a crowded event. For the same reason, they made for an natural place for someone familiar with the layout to find a moment of solitude in the midst of celebration.
"Heavy thoughts, Ambassador?"
The tall Vulcan leaning in the shadow of the alcove turned toward the door without a hint of surprise on his face.
"Merely...meditating on the passage of time, Admiral," Spock replied to his friend with a slight incline of his head in greeting.
"Ah, heavy thoughts indeed," Uhura teased him with a grin, walking further into the room to join him. "I'm surprised you're not out there taking advantage of the fact that we've got the observers from the Romulans and Klingons on the same floor without bloodshed."
"I am still recovering from the last attempt," Spock admitted wryly, looking down to the reception floor again.
"Age catches up to all of us, even you," Uhura nodded mock-sagely.
Spock eyed her from the corner of his eyes. "I am curious, though, that Mr. Sulu and Mr. Chekov are not present. I was not aware that they had other engagements at this time."
Uhura huffed. "If you're fishing about where Hikaru's gone off to, I've got to admit I have no idea."
"Not vacationing on Risa then?" Spock mused with a raised eyebrow.
"Don't tell me you actually bought that pack of sweet lies he told everyone before he retired," Uhura said through outright laughter.
"I don't believe I have purchased anything--" Spock began, pedantically.
"You know what I mean," Uhura interrupted him. "As for Chekov, he's on Gaen. Supposedly. Under rather…
unique orders. You understand what I mean."
There was a long silence as Spock stared at his friend, his eyebrows slowly climbing back to his hairline.
"I see," the Vulcan said at last. "I take it that the launch of
this Enterprise is likely to be no less eventful than the previous."
"Did you really expect anything else?" Uhura asked him even as her custom communicator suddenly began to chime in a high urgency tone.
"I have avoided calculating precisely that," Spock told her with a deadpan voice, before silently departing the room to give her privacy for what was sure to be a highly sensitive briefing. With quick steps, he began to head back down to the floor of the reception hall. His mental calculations told him there was a near certainty that he would soon have use for his skills once the pandemonium starts.