Do I dream or do I wake?

She blinked in confusion, dazed by the swirling, flickering console beneath her fingertips. Someone behind her asked for a reading. "Planetary signs seem normal, Captain," she replied, shaking herself to clear momentary brain-fog. "Earth-like atmosphere and vegetation."
Wait. Captain?
She swung around in a panic, hardly hoping, desperately wishing for it to be true. Blank, slate-grey walls, a large screen, two piloting seats in front of a captain's chair . . . where an unfamiliar gold-clad figure sat tall, legs crossed, looking blankly back at her. Yes, this person had yellow hair and ice-blue eyes, but she . . . was a she. 
Winking back an almost-tear or two of disappointment, Spock quickly scanned the rest of the bridge of her dreams, certain that this was some strange, sad game. Instead, she found in the communications seat the correct woman in red, complete with coiffed black hair and impractically manicured nails, poised for instruction. Craning their necks to determine what went amiss with their commanding officer were the well-known gold-clad pilot and "nawigator." Now she was certain that she was sleeping, but where were the captain and his science officer?
"Spock?" came a quavering query from the captain's chair. She sighed, thinking sadly that this was the worst dream of all time, and took a closer look at the source of the bewildered voice.
"Janelle?!" 
The rest of the crew gave her a strange look. Communications Officer Uhura looked between the girl in gold and the girl whose shirt was blue, interjecting when both seemed dumbstruck. "That is the captain's name, Mr. Spock."
"Captain?!?" The title emerged abruptly, a bit strangled by what may have been hysteria."A word, please?" With another incredulous glance around the bridge, Spock scurried to the lift, followed closely by her friend.