Surefoot 10: Fast and the Furriest

"Why would you be? You weren't involved in the initial hearings that confirmed Captain Hrelle's fitness for command! It was none of yours or anyone else's damn business!"

"Captain Arrington," Craig continued. "You must have been aware that Orion Deathmatch recordings are contraband within Federation space? There are serious penalties for possessing them, not to mention distributing them - as you've just done by transmitting them to us!"

Arrington looked to him now in disbelief, her face turning a deep shade of scarlet. "Why are you focusing on that? The real threat sits before us!" She indicated Hrelle, who now looked up at her impassively. "A murderous animal! They're all like that!"

"Captain," Kami started, looking concerned as she stared at the woman. "You're becoming irrational, perhaps we should pause these proceedings-"

"Don't play the innocent, Counselor! I saw the blood on you when I walked into Sickbay! You're all savages under your fur!"

"I've heard enough."

All eyes turned to one of the screens on the wall, towards Sa'Rahn, though it was a female voice that had spoken. Then they saw him being pushed out of view, replaced by an elderly Caitian female with ash-grey fur and Ambassador's robes. Though a figure of extreme age, there was still a fierce fire in her eyes as she glared at them. "I've heard quite enough."

Hrelle had been content to sit there and let the hearing go where it needed to go, but now he sat up, eyes wide, along with Kami and Rrori and the non-Caitians in the room who recognised her.

Though Arrington obviously wallowed in ignorance. "This is meant to be a Starfleet hearing, Madam."

"Don't 'Madam' me, you arrogant little cub! I'm Ambassador M'Ress! Formerly Admiral M'Ress! And I was helping save the Galaxy when your father was still suckling on his mother's teat! And I've never heard such blatant bigotry from a Starfleet officer in all my years! The Caitian government will be making a formal protest to Starfleet Command about you! Mark my words, Captain!"

"I think we've heard enough, Captain Arrington," Quinn announced. "We need to discuss your actions and attitude privately-"

"NO!" She faced Hrelle again, eyes wide. "YOU did all this! You did! Captain Spaulding said you were the threat!"

"Captain Spaulding?" T'Varik asked curiously. "I am unfamiliar with-"

"SHUT UP!" Arrington cried out, looking confused and panicked now - her hand moving to the phaser on her belt.

"Captain!" Quinn yelled from the screen.

"Nobody move," Hrelle murmured softly, staying still, eyes fixed on her from his side of the table. "Nobody say anything. Lucille... you're absolutely right. We're all savages under our fur - or skin. I did kill, readily, and probably would again. But I did what I did to survive, or to protect my family, just as my wife did what she did to help save my daughter, and my cadets did what they did to help save me. Just as I'm sure you would do the same for those you love and care about.

That doesn't mean it was easy, or that I wouldn't give it a second thought afterwards. It stays with me, constantly: the pain, the trauma, the guilt, and it always will. As will the knowledge that if I had to do it all over again... I would.

That doesn't make me evil. That doesn't make me an animal. So long as I recognise that it's only a part of me. It's not me."

"Captain Arrington?"

She turned to the briefing room door, looking confused now. "McMahon?"

Her First Officer drew up to her slowly, cautiously, his round, hairless face looking concerned, sympathetic. "Captain? Why don't you accompany me to Sickbay? I think this hearing is done."

She stared at him, looking thoroughly lost, adrift, before finally nodding sheepishly, keeping her eyes away from the screens and the occupants of the room as she followed McMahon out.

*

"USS Surefoot, Captain's Log, Stardate 36556.78, Captain Esek Hrelle Recording: Captain Lucille Arrington has been relieved of duty pending a psychiatric evaluation, and her First Officer has been temporarily promoted. I know some might think I should feel satisfaction at this turn of events, given the years of hostility we shared.

No. I watched the life of a fellow Starfleet captain unravel, collapse, before my eyes. I sincerely hope she recovers soon.

Admiral Quinn had ruled that I remain fit for command, and I expect we will soon be back to our previous mission, as will the Impala - and the Ferasan ship. Knowing that Consul Treshek has lost the licence for his people to trade in this sector doesn't seem justice enough, given what he did to Sasha and Kami and myself. But I'm old enough to know that the best we can hope for in this life is Some Justice."

Hrelle sat alone in the briefing room, his back to the door, looking out at the ships in view. He herd the door slide open, of course, and his nose picked up the first person to enter. "I thought I said I was busy, Commander."

"Yes, Sir. However, an urgent matter has arisen with a member of our crew, one that requires my adjudication - and your participation."

He never turned, but heard others enter the room as well - and Kami. Now he shifted in his chair, to see a dozen cadets from each of the three Squads, and his First Officer, and his wife, who now sat nearby, her feet up on the table as if she wasn't a part of all of this, let alone the obvious instigator. "Get out. All of you. That's an order."

T'Varik folded her hands behind her back. "You are still on Medical Leave, Captain. Shall we continue? This matter involves a highly valued member of our crew who believes he is unqualified for a particularly important role. The cadets assembled here will attempt to repudiate this."

Hrelle looked to Kami. "I've made up my mind. This is pointless."

She shrugged. "Don't look at me, I just came in for the view outside."

"If this is pointless," Sasha noted with a slight smile. "Then there's no harm in listening, is there?" Without waiting for an answer, she looked to the end of the group. "Rina? If you would?"

Rina Chaudri blushed a little, shifting uneasily before finally starting. "On my first duty shift, I sat at the helm on the bridge, ready to do what I dreamed of doing all my life: piloting a starship. Except I couldn't. I froze. I forgot everything. But my brain still worked, at Warp Ten, telling me that I was going to fail, be sent home in disgrace, maybe even court-martialled for insubordination. I was panicking.

But then you came over to me, knelt beside me, calmed me down, assured me everything was going to be okay. You taught me the pre-flight mnemonic that brought back all my training" She smiled. "You made me laugh. You gave me confidence again. I never thanked you for that."

Beside her, Jonas shrugged self-consciously. "I never knew my Dad. I never thought I needed him, or anyone like him. Before I realised it, I found myself opening up to you, getting advice, getting support when I was ready to... to do something stupid. And you treat me like an adult, offering without ordering. I told the crew of the Rising Star that you were like a father to many of us. I didn't lie."

Beside him, Nancy Yeager looked a little disgruntled. "You... you weren't afraid to tell me I was wrong, and to tell me why. And you gave me a second chance to make good again." She scowled. "Someone else say something now."

Giles smiled at that. "You saved my life - literally. And when you knew I was being made to spy on you by my father, you didn't turn me in, you didn't confront me, you gave me the chance to redeem myself. You stood up to my family to protect me." He blushed a little. "Also, you haven't killed me for being Sasha's boyfriend."

"Yet," Hrelle added dryly.

Beside him, Eydiir straightened, looking both vulnerable and proud. "Many here know that I defied Capellan tradition when I joined Starfleet to practice Medicine instead of Security. Few know that my uncle, who led my family following the death of my father, refused to let me leave Capella with our tribe's sash. I mentioned this in passing to you once, but never thought much more about it - or thought about how much this loss showed in my eyes, my words."

She raised her chin. "You contacted the High Teer of the Ten Tribes - the High Teer himself! - spoke highly about my courage and honour, the lives I had helped save, my victories." A slight smile raised the corners of her lips. "And you threatened to adopt me as your own child if my people continued to be so foolish as to disown me." She raised her arm, allowing a dark green silk sash to unfurl from her hand. "Not long after that, this was sent to me, along with an apology from my uncle. I did not think any Capellan could apologise." She tied the sash around her waist. "All those who knew me told me that having this didn't matter, that having the respect of my people did not matter. They meant well... but they didn't understand. You did." Her smile broadened. "And if you did keep true to your threat and adopt me... I would have been equally proud."

Glenqom Orogg, the Saurian Security Specialist of Gamma Squad, raised his reptilian head, his salmon-pink skin darkening as his bronze oval eyes nictitated. "When my hatch mother was called in for an emergency operation to replace her subaltern heart, I stayed up all night waiting for a subspace message on the outcome. My Squad, Commander T'Varik, the Counselor, they all offered to stay up with me, but I turned them down. You, however, insisted on remaining with me through the night: getting us coffee, disassembling and reassembling phaser rifles, teaching me K'Gressor martial moves. You distracted me, until the good news about my mother arrived in the morning - and ensured I was given the morning shift off to catch up on sleep."

Beside him, Neraxis stared at Hrelle with unabashed admiration. "When we were rescuing those Malurian children, all that time, all I could think about was my own little brothers and sisters, how it could have been them, trapped in some Hraxor-forsaken hold, sick, suffocating. Dying." Dark violet tears welled up in her eyes, quickly wiped away. "I tried to hold it in, stay strong and do my job like everyone seemed to be doing. But I- I was cracking, crumbling inside. I thought I kept it hidden.

But somehow you saw. You called me over, said you needed help getting blankets from Stores. Instead, you just talked to me, reassured me that it was okay. And when I just broke down and started bawling like a baby, you didn't scold me and talk down to me or tell me to pull myself together. You gave me time to do that myself."

Hrelle felt himself blush under his fur. "You know all of what you cubs have said is just part of what any commanding officer would do?"

"I disagree," T'Varik assured softly. "These actions go above and beyond the job description of a starship Captain; having assisted 32 Starfleet officers in reaching that position during my career, I believe I am qualified to confirm that - I can also confirm that none of them have ever referred to those under them as their 'cubs'."

He frowned. "I've only ever said it once or twice."

"You have said it 244 times since the start of this year onboard our starship."

His frowned deepened. "I think you make these figures up half the time."

Sasha chuckled. "We'll, I've known you longer than anyone else here. I still remember that evening 12 years ago when you first walked into our quarters on Salem Four, and I realised you were going to be more than just a visitor to the station. You were an intruder, one who seemed intent on taking over Mom's attention and affection from me. I met you with unrelenting resentment and hostility.

You however returned unrelenting patience and fondness. You brought my shields down. The Intruder became Uncle Esek, then Papa Bear... and then Dad." She let the tears flow freely down her cheeks. "And I would hate for any cub of your own to miss out on what you have to offer." She laughed again as she wiped her face. "Especially when you'll have a ship full of sitters on hand."

Hrelle was swept up in the emotions at play, and looked to his wife. "This was a rotten trick of yours. You know that, don't you?"

Kami shrugged unapologetically, idly playing with her tail. "Told you once before, Captain, Sir, that when it comes to helping those I love, I'm a no-holds-barred, dirty bitch fighter."

"I would not argue against that," T'Varik added dryly, as the cadets tittered. "Captain, the fact remains that, though I may sometimes question your overfamiliarity and overemotional approach to the cadets and crew, I cannot deny the positive effect you have on them, both academically and emotionally. "So I would reiterate Squad Leader Hrelle's words, and point out the illogic of denying others the superlative influence you would have as a father to them." She looked to the cadets. "I believe we are done here."

"Wait." Hrelle rose to his feet, leaning on his cane as he hobbled around the table to stand before them. "Thank you. All of you. Now get back to work or there'll be no bedtime story."

As they laughed - or in T'Varik's case, raised an eyebrow - and departed, Hrelle approached Kami, who stood up now and regarded him with a smile. "Feeling better?"

"Feeling like a self-pitying ass."

"That's a good place to start." She put her arms around him and purred against his throat. "And to carry on with our lives and put all this business behind us."

He started at that, and reluctantly turned to glance out the window again, at the Ferasan vessel.

She watched him. "Forget about them, Esek. We can't touch Treshek, not without physical evidence."

He smiled a little. "No?"

*

Bloodstained Shroud:

Hrelle left his cane behind as he beamed into the Promenade with T'Varik and an armed security team. The Vulcan gripped her tricorder. "I must advise against this course of action, Captain. You are not yet fully recovered."

"You've already done that. Getting senile in your old age?"

"I have not yet reached old age. And should you pursue this gambit, you might not either."

"Very funny. Who said Vulcans don't have a sense of humour?" To Lt. Abed he ordered, "Take no action until ordered by me - or Commander T'Varik if I'm killed." He enjoyed the reaction on his security officer's face as he led the way towards the large table in the Promenade, where Treshek and a collection of Ferasans sat and feasted on what looked like the remains of animals that had been alive moments before. "Sorry to interrupt your picking on tiny defenceless animals, Consul."

The Consul shifted in his seat to glare with open contempt at the new arrivals. "What are you doing here, Old Man? I didn't give permission to let you onboard."

"It is not currently required, Consul," T'Varik informed him. "While you remain stationary in Federation space, Starfleet has sovereignty."

"We won't be long." Hrelle walked up to the table, looked at the other Ferasans. "Thought you might have changed your mind about giving us a DNA sample?"

Treshek grunted. "Go to your Seven Hells, Caitian."

"Are you sure? It's a painless procedure; you don't have to be afraid." He leaned in closer. "Is that it? You're afraid? Oh I know, you need to hear the Magic Words." He cleared his throat and announced in an overly melodramatic voice, "Across the Feckless Veld I have journeyed to stand before you! I challenge you, Consul Treshek! In the name of the Pattycake, I challenge you to fight me!"

The other Ferasans tensed and went silent. But Treshek just smiled mirthlessly up at him. "No, Hrelle. I won't take the bait that easily. Just how stupid do you think I am?"

"Oh, I don't think we have enough time to go into that."

One of the Ferasans sitting nearby leaned forward. "Why don't you just take your plant eater and run along back to your-"

Hrelle suddenly turned and snapped at him, making the young Ferasan yelp and almost fall backwards in his chair, and the others surrounding him almost follow.

He looked into their eyes - and saw their fear. And he knew why. His voice returned to a low growl. "Maybe one of you would like to face me? Come on, cubs. Don't you want to follow in SecondSon's tracks? How's he doing, by the way?"

They averted their eyes.

And Hrelle leaned in even closer. "Spread the word among your people: anyone else come looking to make a Name for themselves by fighting me will end up like that neutered kussik. Even your females. I swear on my cub's life I'll make it happen."

Then he glanced at Treshek, who sat there, making a show of trying to ignore the intruder.

Even when Hrelle casually reached out and tipped Treshek's cup off the edge of the table. Then the remains of Treshek's meal into the man's lap.

"Run along, Captain," the Consul chuckled. "Go back to your whore wife and cub."

"Captain," T'Varik prompted. "Perhaps we should return to our ship?"

Hrelle straightened up, made a move towards her, before facing the back of Treshek. "Maybe you're right, Commander. I shouldn't antagonise them like that. It's like my grandmother used to say: 'Never piss off a Ferasan'."

Treshek grunted in satisfaction, as did several of his comrades.

None of them saw Hrelle unfastening the front of his uniform and reaching inside.

Hrelle smiled as he continued, "'It's so much more satisfying to piss on them'."

Treshek froze as he felt the hot stream hit his neck and the back of his head before his astonished fellows.

He shook, as if the liquid had been ice cold. He rose to his feet, limbs shaking with rage. "I'LL SPLIT YOU IN TWO!"

Hrelle tucked himself away again. "That's what I told your mother last night, Treshek."

The Consul spun and torpedoed into him, sending him sprawling, his claws out and his jaw opened to rip into the Caitian. But Hrelle was ready for him despite his still-infirmed condition, his own claws raking fur and flesh. The air filled with shouts of protest from both sides.

Very quickly, Hrelle realised that in his current state, he was hopelessly outmatched. "T'Varik!"

He filled the residual sting of a phaser on a stun setting as it struck the Ferasan over him, sending him to one side, shaking but still conscious, as the security team kept the other Ferasans at bay.

Hrelle caught his breath, holding up his bloodied hand. "C-Commander-"

The Vulcan was kneeling at his side, her tricorder whirring with activity. "It appears your stratagem for voluntarily obtaining a DNA sample from Consul Treshek was successful; it matches the sample obtained from Sasha's wounds."

He nodded. "Grab him and let's get back. I have a wife waiting to kick my ass for this stunt."

*

"First Officer's Log, Stardate 36567.40, Commander T'Varik, recording: Consul Treshek has been arrested and detained in the Impala's brig, to be taken to Starbase 84 following their escort of the Bloodstained Shroud to the border with Ferasan space. I have returned command to Captain Hrelle and am finalising reports and debriefing involving the events of the week."

T'Varik knew something was wrong; she had worked with the Superintendent long enough to discern the changes in her demeanour, even via the viewscreen in her office. However, she chose to finalise her reports first; it was only logical. "The cadets have been fully cleared by our Chief Medical Officer, and our Counselor has found that, far from suffering any long-term emotional trauma from the incident, that their esprit de corps has strengthened. Although, of course, I shall endeavour to find safer methods of galvanising their group loyalty than combat with Ferasans."

"I'm not amused, Commander."

T'Varik looked up, setting aside her PADD. "That is regrettable, Ma'am. May I enquire as to-"