Cadet Arnold Ambrose remembered the password. It was given to him by Astrid, the last girl he had kissed on Earth. She had gone her way, he had gone his. But the universe was small enough for two people to find each other again one day. Ambrose entered the area known as the Dungeon with time to kill. His brown eyes looked more rested than they had since he left the Florida beaches for the Academy. The resort was a perfect place for a retired Starfleet officer to open up shop, which is exactly what his grandfather had done. His father followed next after his own tour of the galaxy and made it a true family business. One day, it would be Arnie Ambrose's business to run. One day. Ambrose's brown hair was slicked back in a way that Astrid said gave him a "haughty" look. It was the right look for now. Later on, he would change it something more military, more Starfleet. He followed the instructions to the letter. Third door on the right. Four knocks, pause, four knocks. A slit opened to reveal inquisitive eyes. "The fat man flies at midnight," said Ambrose in a plain tone. The slit slammed shut and the door slid open. Ambrose walked in, a pile of poker winnings from the Academy in his satchel. He smiled at getting to play in the legendary StarBase 118 "underground" game. There was plenty of time to embrace the future; the present could not be ignored.