The rowboat bumped gently against the tall sailing ship’s side. Florrick stared up at the towering masts, sails taut against the night sky, lanterns glowing golden in the rigging. He swallowed hard. This was supposed to be his promotion ceremony, but Anderson, of course, couldn’t just let it be formal. For days, Anderson had begged Florrick to let him organise something until he relented and gave in to the peer pressure from his superior.

“Come along, lad!” called Anderson from the rail above. He stood in a vivid green tunic that clung close to his frame, sleeves cut away at the shoulder to leave his arms bare. A feathered cap sat jauntily on his head, and a mischievous grin spread across his boyish face. The sight made Florrick’s cheeks burn. Anderson looked like Peter Pan come to life, and the fact that their costumes matched, almost too closely, made Florrick’s chest tighten with embarrassment. Even the fake arm tattoos and the extra foliage felt silly.

Florrick pulled himself up the rope ladder, tugging at the hem of his own ripped green vest as he climbed. The garment Anderson had given him left very little to the imagination: his arms were completely bare, some of his chest was exposed, and the fake arm tattoos were too extravagant. It felt more like a dare than an outfit, a reminder of every moment Anderson had teased him back at the Academy Campus on Mellstoxx when Florrick was a cadet under Anderson’s squadron leadership.

Florrick had spent months since leaving the Astra burying himself in studies on the Orion, avoiding connections, and trying to forget the mess he left behind with Jordan and Alfie. Now, here he was on display. It wasn’t something he wanted to do, but he was told it was an order from Anderson.

The crew cheered as Florrick reached the slowly bobbing deck. Florrick saw almost everyone there, all in character. His embarrassment slightly dropped as they joined in. He felt a sense of belonging, hoping their cheers were genuine.

Jines was unrecognisable beneath a scarlet coat trimmed with gold braid, a long curled wig, and an ostentatious hook gleaming at his wrist. He twirled his fake moustache with relish, stomping across the deck like a stage villain.

“So!” he thundered. “The boy thinks himself worthy to stand among us? He dares present himself before Captain Hook?”

The crew gave an exaggerated “oooooh!” of mock terror. Florrick felt himself rolling his eyes at the silliness, but he couldn’t help but feel the warmth of their camaraderie.

Tomraf waddled forward in striped trousers and a sagging red cap, playing Smee with surprising glee. “Aye, Cap’n, this be the lad! Done his exams, served his tours, and has not once been eaten by a crocodile. Worth somethin’, eh?”

“Silence, Smee!” Jines snapped, jabbing the hook at him.

Before Florrick could answer, a golden blur zipped across his vision. Nali shimmered past and around as Tinker Bell, wings beating fast, her Xahean markings sparkling with glitter. The holographic projectors had made her appearance a lot smaller than she usually was. She crossed her arms and hovered at Florrick’s eye level, tapping her foot with mock impatience.

“Tink says you’ve forgotten how to fly,” Anderson translated, his grin broadening.

Florrick glanced sideways at Anderson, trying not to notice how the lieutenant’s tunic cut across his shoulders, how his arms flexed as he leaned on the rail. Heat crept into Florrick’s face. “I haven’t forgotten,” he said, voice rougher than he intended. “I’ve just been waiting for the right wind.” He gulped a bit, trying to sound like he was joining in and knew he wasn’t convincing anyone.

Nali smirked, flung a handful of “pixie dust” into his hair, and darted away with a mischievous giggle.

A hush fell as a new figure emerged from the quarterdeck. Ensign Cheryon Bollwyn stood proudly, clothed in brilliant red and gold, beads woven into her long braid that swung down her back. As Tiger Lily, she carried herself with the confidence of a princess and warrior.

“Among my people,” she said with calm authority, “a warrior proves their worth not through battle alone, but through loyalty, courage, and friendship. You have shown all three, Scott Florrick.” She tapped a carved staff against the deck. “You are no longer a boy, but a man who carries adventure in his heart.”

Florrick lowered his eyes, a lump forming in his throat. He’d left the Astra in his mind in disgrace, shattered by revelations and broken friendships. It had become too much for him, so he wanted an escape. The Orion had been his escape that he needed. But to hear such a great compliment from his new crew, even as part of a game, struck deeper than he expected. He didn’t think he had put himself out there with the crew of the Orion. How had they noticed all of this?

“Enough of this sentimental drivel!” Jines thundered, striding across the deck with his coat swirling. He was being overdramatic in his role as the pirate captain. “The boy must prove himself in trial!” He raised his hook dramatically, and with a flash, the water beside the ship erupted. A monstrous crocodile’s head surged up, snapping its jaws with a thunderous crack.

Florrick froze. He knew the story of Peter Pan, something his mothers had read to him when he was a young boy. He knew what was coming next. He sighed quietly to himself.

“Go on,” Anderson urged, his voice warm at his side. “Catch the rigging. Show them you can fly.”

Florrick grabbed the rope and launched himself out over the bay. For a brief moment, suspended in the air, he almost believed it. He was flying, he was weightless, he was free. He landed neatly back on deck, the crocodile vanishing with a splash as the crew roared in approval.

“Very well!” Jines barked, clapping reluctantly. “The boy flies. Give him his prize. For now.”

Anderson stepped forward, opening a small case. The gold pip gleamed inside. He lifted it carefully and, with a flourish, pinned it to Scott’s vest. “By the authority of Starfleet Command and the magic of Neverland, I hereby promote you, Ensign Scott Florrick.”

Cheers rang out. Tomraf raised a tankard, Nali spiralled overhead in a glittering blur, and Bollwyn saluted with her staff.

Florrick stood straighter, forcing his voice to steady. “Thank you to all of you. I may be the one promoted, but it’s your kindness that’s brought me this far. And,” he hesitated, his eyes flicking to Anderson, “I’ll keep my eyes on the horizon, like I was taught.”

Anderson’s grin softened into something gentler. “That’s the spirit. Second star to the right, Florrick.”

The moment was broken by the sharp bleeting of the intercom going off.

“All senior staff report to the bridge immediately,” came Captain Mo’Lee-Krabreii’s commanding voice.

The senior officers exchanged glances. One by one, they filed out as the holodeck arch appeared behind them on the deck of the pirate ship.

“Scotty, we’ll pick this up later once whatever the captain needs us for is dealt with!” Anderson called as he led the group out. “I promise!”

In moments, the rocking sailing ship was silent again. Just the holographic crew worked quietly, maintaining the boat. Lanterns swayed in the rigging. The sea lapped against the hull. Florrick stood alone at the centre of the deck, his new pip gleaming on his vest. He looked around at the make-believe world of the Neverland, still glowing with impossible light, and let out a long, quiet breath.

For the first time in months, he let himself smile just a little. Then he realised he was alone again.