The U.S.S. Enterprise Docks at Madres Espresso

When the U.S.S. Enterprise made an unscheduled landing in Olympia, Washington, it wasn’t because of a distress signal or a temporal anomaly—it was because Captain Jean-Luc Picard had run out of Earl Grey tea. “Computer,” he said, “locate nearest source of caffeine.” The replicator sputtered. Ensign Crusher frowned. Lt. Data, consulting the internet, declared: “Captain, the optimal establishment appears to be... Madres Espresso.”

Moments later, the away team materialized in the parking lot beside the cheerful little coffee stand. The smell hit them first—roasted beans, caramel drizzle, and the faint aroma of human happiness. Spock raised an eyebrow. “Fascinating. The efficiency of this small structure rivals that of a Federation starbase.” Uhura was already at the window, smiling at the barista. “One Vulcan mocha, extra logic,” she teased.

The barista, Sarai, unfazed by teleporting customers in uniforms, simply nodded. “Sure thing. You want that with oat milk?”
“Affirmative,” replied Spock. “It is only logical.”

Meanwhile, Captain Kirk—who had appeared despite the whole Picard-era issue (temporal crossovers happen)—was chatting up a local named Linda about the art of foam hearts. Dr. McCoy grumbled about “space-age nonsense” but still ordered a triple-shot Americano. Worf, glaring at the pastry case, asked if the scones were made with real bloodberries. When told no, he settled for a cinnamon roll the size of a communicator badge.

As the crew sipped and sampled, the scene softened into something almost... domestic. Data analyzed flavor profiles with the enthusiasm of a sommelier. Troi smiled, sensing collective calm. Even Picard loosened his command posture, watching a latte art leaf form beneath the barista’s practiced hand.

“Captain,” said Riker, leaning against the stand, “permission to recommend this place for our next shore leave rotation.”
“Granted,” Picard said, smiling. “Make it brew.”

Before they beamed out, they left behind a small plaque reading: Madres Espresso—Official Caffeine Supplier to Starfleet, Stardate Whatever. The barista, Carlee, laughed, taped it to the window, and waved as they shimmered away.

To this day, locals in Olympia claim that if you order a drink at Madres Espresso just as the morning mist lifts, you might hear the faint hum of a transporter beam—or catch a glimpse of a uniformed visitor returning for another round of interstellar espresso.