Bella Shepard walks through the expansive Starfleet Academy stages, names the standout spaces, and breaks down how fear shapes Genesis Lythe
Star Trek: Starfleet Academy has pushed the franchise’s production scale in a bold direction, assembling some of the largest practical sets ever built for Star Trek. Filming took place on the Star Trek Stage at Pinewood Toronto, where the newly imagined USS Athena serves as both starship and Academy campus. The creative team—production designers, directors and cast members such as Bella Shepard—say the design choices were made to serve story and character first, not simply to dazzle.
A tangible, lived-in Academy
Designers leaned into texture and layering: a multilevel atrium, dormitories, classrooms, decorative ponds and a vast viewscreen populate the set. These are more than pretty backdrops; they’re storytelling tools. Actors can move through real staircases and corridors, pause on a balcony, or lean against a banister—small physical choices that accumulate into believable behavior and emotional truth. Directors and designers arranged the spaces so blocking, camera work and props naturally reveal character rather than spelling it out in dialogue.
The Sato Atrium as a narrative engine
At the heart of the production is the Sato Atrium, a multilevel common area anchored by a large viewscreen at the base of its stairs. When the Athena is docked the screen shows the San Francisco skyline; between jumps it opens to vistas of deep space. That simple change instantly orients the audience to the ship’s status and subtly shifts a scene’s emotional pitch. Bella Shepard notes the screen helps actors tune their performances—its imagery affects pacing, tone and the characters’ sense of scale in the moment.
Water, pranks and social rules
Small features yield big storytelling payoff. The atrium’s decorative ponds, used sparingly onscreen, punctuate scenes with texture and occasionally mischief: cadets find themselves “beamed” into the water during pranks or challenges. Those moments are played as lightly illicit—fun with consequences—establishing social norms inside the Academy and giving actors opportunities to show reaction and relationship rather than exposition.
Private spaces that speak without words
Dorm rooms were treated as micro-theaters of personality. Layout, lighting, personal objects and wear patterns are deliberately curated to hint at backstory. The shared quarters for cadets Caleb Mir, Darem Reymi and Ocam Sadal, for example, communicate distinct priorities and histories through props—custom jewelry, favored books, a particular piece of decor—so the camera can read character before anyone says a line. Actors tell production staff that furnished, lived-in rooms make interactions feel spontaneous; quiet conversations and private conflicts settle into a different rhythm than scenes staged in the busy atrium.
Props and costume as cultural shorthand
Costume and props teams collaborated with performers to craft authentic, culture-rich details. Shepard’s character Genesis—one of the series’ new alien presences—wears jewelry and accessories that were intentionally treated as fragments of a nomadic life. Each piece was designed to suggest travel, encounters and adaptability, offering visual shorthand for a species that carries identity through objects. Those choices are discussed in rehearsal and help actors inhabit a history without explicit backstory dumps.
Multilevel staging and storytelling flexibility
The set’s multiple strata—staircases, balconies, interconnected wings—allow the series to stage simultaneous action on different planes. Directors can cut between a classroom debate, a corridor exchange and a quiet atrium moment, building narrative rhythm and spatial logic. This design supports the idea of the Academy as an operational, breathing campus rather than a static backdrop, and gives writers and directors material they can revisit as character arcs unfold.
Genesis Lythe: fear, ambition and growth
Genesis, played by Shepard, arrives at the Academy driven by the fear of failure. That anxiety shows up as perfectionism: altered recommendations, reliance on family status and an obsession with measurable success. Rather than present Genesis as one-note, the production layers her behavior with defensive strategies—control and achievement as armor against vulnerability. The show gradually pulls these threads apart: shared duties, informal friendships and mission-driven pressure force her to adapt, revealing how fear can both propel and hinder growth.
Complementary relationships
An example of that evolution is Genesis’s friendship with Caleb. She admires his spontaneity; he leans on her organization. Their relationship becomes a practical exchange of strengths and weaknesses, a recurring motif that drives interpersonal drama and character development. These shifts are reinforced visually—through costume choices, blocking and silent beats—so the audience experiences growth rather than just watching it explained.
Ongoing refinement and worldbuilding
Production is actively tuning sets and details as filming continues, refining textures and props to match the evolving performances. Designers and directors iterate to preserve visual continuity while supporting the actors’ rhythms. Those adjustments indicate the series’ larger aim: expand the Star Trek universe thoughtfully while keeping the focus where it matters—on characters discovering themselves inside institutional pressures.
A tangible, lived-in Academy
Designers leaned into texture and layering: a multilevel atrium, dormitories, classrooms, decorative ponds and a vast viewscreen populate the set. These are more than pretty backdrops; they’re storytelling tools. Actors can move through real staircases and corridors, pause on a balcony, or lean against a banister—small physical choices that accumulate into believable behavior and emotional truth. Directors and designers arranged the spaces so blocking, camera work and props naturally reveal character rather than spelling it out in dialogue.0
A tangible, lived-in Academy
Designers leaned into texture and layering: a multilevel atrium, dormitories, classrooms, decorative ponds and a vast viewscreen populate the set. These are more than pretty backdrops; they’re storytelling tools. Actors can move through real staircases and corridors, pause on a balcony, or lean against a banister—small physical choices that accumulate into believable behavior and emotional truth. Directors and designers arranged the spaces so blocking, camera work and props naturally reveal character rather than spelling it out in dialogue.1