The Café That Ambushed a Marine - Part I
Posted on Mon Mar 2nd, 2026 @ 11:33pm by 1st Lieutenant Ángel Martinez & Aislinn Finnegan
Edited on on Tue Mar 3rd, 2026 @ 1:52am
1,672 words; about a 8 minute read
Mission:
The Menagerie II
Location: Maple Leaf Coffee and Pastries, Deck 10, USS Astrea
Martinez was still getting used to the Astrea. The way most people got used to a new neighbourhood. Or a new haircut. There was nothing wrong with the ship. Nothing wrong with the mission either. So far, though, they hadn’t done much except stand by, run drills, and read reports until the pages blurred into one long hum of logistics.
But off duty, for a little while at least, the silence in their quarters felt too wide. And they didn’t have it in them to make café de olla tonight.
No.
The one thing the Astrea had that the Pathfinder never quite managed was choice. Places to go when the silence got too silent. When the hands started to shake. That was how they found themselves walking into Maple Leaf Coffee and Pastries. Still in uniform. A faint look of confusion flickering across their face. At how normal it all seemed. The scent of coffee, fresh and bitter. Hot chocolate. Real pastries, or close enough. Martinez stilled. Just for a moment. Then took a breath. Looked around. Let it all in. But didn't move.
"Heya," came the accented, happy voice of Aislinn from behind the counter as she watched the newcomer walk in.
It was a slow and steady morning and Aislinn had seen the regulars come and go, surprisingly hadn't seen Ryan yet, and had gotten to cleaning when the Marine walked in, an irregularity because usually they stuck to different decks and different cafes.
"You look new, I haven't seen you around here before?" Aislinn asked with a smile as she cleaned off her hands with a tea towel. "What can I get for you?"
Martinez looked at her, surprised. Met green eyes, a warm smile, and dark hair...freckles. They offered a smile back, small but real. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m new,” they said, stepping closer to the counter. Their back stayed straight as they scanned the display, eyes moving but not quite processing. Too many choices, too sudden a shift from silence to scent. Their mind stuttered for a moment. They looked up again, met her eyes. Their smile softened slightly. “What’s good? Pastries, I mean?” No bluff, no performance....just the honest question of someone who didn’t know and didn’t see the point in pretending otherwise.
"Well," Aislinn looked between the Marine and the pastry display, "I can personally guarantee the blueberry muffin, the banana bread and the carrot cake are all of the finest quality I can possibly make them to, and all pair well with a hot coffee."
She hadn't had any complaints about the coffee or the cakes she'd just recommended, "I've tried quite a bit of what's in the display but those would be my favourites, I think." Taking out one of the muffins, she split it in two and offered a piece before taking a bite of her own, "Try this and let me know what you think. It's blueberry, orange and lavender."
Martinez took it, smiling in quiet awe at the texture. Soft. Bouncy. Juicy in a way that made them think of home. Their mother would approve. They tried a piece. Chewed. Closed their eyes for a moment. Blueberry came first. Then orange, just a quiet undercurrent. The lavender wasn’t a flavour so much as a scent, lingering as they swallowed. When they opened their eyes again, there was warmth in them and not just from the muffin. “You make these? From scratch?”
It wasn’t the kind of thing you heard often on starships. At least not the ones Martinez had served on. Or maybe it had always been happening. Maybe they’d just been the wrong rank, or in the wrong place, to know it was possible.
Aislinn nodded, "Indeed I do." She moved over to an empty table with two seats and took a seat, offering the other one to the Marine. "I've got a lot of free time to use while my daughter is in school, and I've been told I can be as creative as I want. I'm no qualified baker, that's for sure, unlike Commander Andersen, but it's been deemed good enough to be sold here so I'm happy." Another bite and explosion of flavour.
"I'm Aislinn, by the way. I should've mentioned that before." She laughed and kept the smile on her face.
Martinez took the offered seat, watching her for a moment before giving a nod. “Martinez,” they said, by way of introduction. They gave a faint smile, at the way she had spoken. “And if you’re serving it here, that makes you a professional baker in my book.” They raised an eyebrow slightly, then chuckled as they took another bite. It really was good.
Their mind circled back to what she’d said. The part about her daughter. They looked at her again, more closely this time. “Your daughter’s lucky,” they said, voice quieter now. “Having a parent who can bake like this. Not many still do.”
"I'll take that as a compliment, thank you." Aislinn let her head fall to the side slightly as she appreciated the compliment. "I'm just trying to give her a slice of the life I got to have growing up, that's all. My siblings and I were very lucky in that regard: always the freshest food straight from garden to table and a mother who loved spending her time in the kitchen."
Martinez smiled, offering a small nod. They could see it. And they understood. They had been lucky too, in their own way. Their mother had cooked, taught them what she could, what Martinez's interest had stretched to. The food had not always been fresh. Mars was what it was. No Earth. But the kitchen garden had kept them stocked with the sturdier things. Herbs. Root veg. A few stubborn tomatoes that somehow always grew sideways. They glanced back to Aislinn, still thoughtful. “Do you go back much? Wherever you grew up?” they asked it lightly. The lilt in her voice was familiar in places, but they could not place it.
"Ireland," Aislinn commented before she took another bite of the muffin. "Have you been? It's a gorgeous place and I miss it every minute I'm not able to be back there, but I'm looking to get some time to go back when the crew gets some decent shoreleave next. Go see my pa, my brother 'nd sister, my in-laws." Her voice trailed off at the mention of the words 'in-laws' because it suggested she'd been married when she... wasn't. "What about you? Where do you hail from?"
Martinez caught the moment when her voice trailed off. A subtle shift. Their eyes dropped to the muffin, giving Aislinn a breath of privacy. “Never been to Ireland. Barely been to Earth,” they said, voice quiet. “I’m from Mars. Parents live in Arizona now. Two sisters. One’s in Starfleet...a doctor. The other’s on Titan. One nephew.” They looked back up, met her eyes, and gave a small nod. They didn’t mention that it had been over a year since they had seen any of them. That they had never met their nephew. A career in Starfleet, any branch of it, made those connections harder to keep.
They suspected it was the same for civilians.
Aislinn paused conversation for a moment and got the attention of one of the other workers to start serving customers again before she turned back to the conversation. "Well, I've heard Arizona is a very dry and dusty and hot kind of state, so that'll be a hard pass from me, thank you! Give me the cold, wet and green landscape, 'n' I'll be happy." She laughed again, a genuine one. "What's Mars like? I've been told a lot about it but never had a chance to go."
Martinez looked at her, a small smile tugging at the corner of their mouth. “It was…” They paused, thinking. Not out of hesitation, just finding the shape of it. “Dry. Mostly. Except when the rain came, and it hit in sheets. That made the soil steam, smell more like sulphur. No amount of terraforming ever really took that away.” They gave a quiet chuckle, then finished the last of the muffin, letting the pause stretch with it. “There are worse places to grow up,” they said eventually, voice calm. “I think I’d take dry over cold and wet and green. We are what we are, I suppose. What we were raised up around.”
"There's no judgement on my part for your preferences," Aislinn laughed and raised her hands in defense. "I have a kind of sensitivity to sulphur, so maybe Mars wouldn't be the right place for me then. Do you want a coffee or something while we're here talking? Unless there's other things you have planned and need to do?"
“No, I…” Martinez let out a breath. It was half a chuckle, half a self-rebuke. “I’d like a coffee, whatever is good, please.” They gave a small smile, one that lingered for a moment as they looked at her...not staring, just noticing. “I don’t know the ship well yet. Except for the Marine bits.” Their voice stayed light, but their eyes held hers, thoughtful. She looked like someone who could handle a lot, and still hadn’t lost her warmth. “Just wanted to find somewhere else to sit. For when the silence gets a bit loud.”
Continued in: The Café That Ambushed a Marine - Part II
1st Lieutenant Ángel Martinez
Marine Officer
USS Astrea
Aislinn Finnegan
Cafe Worker
USS Astrea
(NPC of Eirly Andersen)
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