Saturday night we attend the formal dinner and dance, held in the high school gym, with a head table for the esteemed celebrity guests of DS9. The meal is expensive and has the feel of small town catering from the 1990s—simple flavour profiles (salt!), overcooked chicken, with the customary saving grace of the quality bread bun with butter. The specialty drinks are lacking; no Vulcan Brandy, Romulan Ale, or, and most disheartening, no Klingon Blood Wine (traditionally made here on earth with tequila, tabasco and cranberry juice). There is, at least, Klingon Imperial Porter, but it sells out before the dinner begins. The night is capped with a video dance party reminiscent of the early 2000s and we watch as the Klingons and Star Fleet officers dressed in their formal uniforms shake it to Hit Me Baby One More Time before they fade into the night.