Commodore Rick Hunter stood fidgeting with his collar. "Were dress uniforms always this uncomfortable?" he asked the woman standing by his side.
"They used to be a lot more uncomfortable," replied Captain Dee Hunter. "Or don't you remember those god-awful red-and-black, knee-length dress things they used to make us wear."
Rick grunted with the memory. "Thanks for reminding me," he said mordantly. "I've spent the last twenty years trying to forget those."
At his side, Dee smiled, and out of the corner of her mouth muttered, "Stop fidgeting. The cameras are pointing this way."
Rick immediately stopped tugging at his collar and returned his hand to his side. Sure enough, the hovering robocam was making its rounds of the assembled dignitaries near the front of the massive auditorium. He kept his eyes locked forward and erected a serious expression on his face, one becoming of a Starfleet Commodore -- until the device was safely past, that is. Then he quickly resumed his tugging.
Dee cast a sideways glance at her husband, rolled her eyes and shook her head sadly. Rick had always detested ceremonies like this. He was most at ease in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, not crammed into Starfleet dress whites. But that was the price of being the highest ranking Starfleet officer in the sector.
Dee looked slowly about the cavernous auditorium across a sea of flamboyant color and shiny brass. Hundreds of dignitaries from planets halfway across the Federation were in attendance, all dressed in their flashiest frippery, festooned chests proudly displaying their honors and accomplishments. All had come to shake the hand of and have their pictures taken with the High Commissar Rutilar of the United Federation of Planet's newest full-fledged member, the G'kra Republic.
At the stage end of the auditorium, a simple table stood on a raised dais, and on the table was the vellum scroll that in a matter of minutes would be signed to make the deal official.
"When are they going to start this stupid ceremony?" Rick grumbled under his breath, low enough so only Dee could hear.
Before she could reply with some acerbic comment however, the UFP fanfare began blaring across the assembled masses and everyone stood at attention.
"Finally!" muttered Rick.
From one side of the stage, Winston Carlyle, President of the Federation strode solemnly towards the center table, followed by two of his cabinet members. From the opposite side entered High Commissar Rutilar of the G'kra Republic, flanked by two Ministers. He and Winston arrived simultaneously at opposite sides of the table and stood waiting until the fanfare concluded in a rousing crescendo.
The ceremony which followed was simple in the extreme. President Winston Carlyle took up an old-fashioned quill pen which lay across the treaty paper, dipped it into an equally old-fashioned inkwell, and signed his name at the bottom of the page. He handed the quill to High Commissar Rutilar, who dipped it and signed his own name beside the President's. The two men shook hands and turned to face the assembled dignitaries. On that cue, the entire auditorium erupted into thunderous applause.
Rick and Dee Hunter joined in the clapping, which seemed to last forever. On the stage, Carlyle and Rutilar shook hands again and smiled.
The Federation had a new member.
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