Surefoot 13: Vectors

Sasha looked ready to argue, leaning forward on the couch, before settling back again. "You're a good friend, Eydiir." She looked around to the others, sitting drinking, reading or playing cards. "You're all good friends! Who needs lovers when you can have friends? Am I right?"

Neraxis made a sound and threw the girl a bag of salted potato cubes. "Here, eat something. And for the record, I'd sell all of you to the Orions for a quick Bump with someone."

"Good Friend Neraxis," Kit began, PADD in hand to take notes. "It surely cannot be too difficult a task for you to find someone with whom you can engage in intimate relations? You have what appears to be many desirable qualities."

She grunted, nursing her beer and looking maudlin. "Thanks, Kit. But whatever my desirable qualities, they're overwhelmed by my being loud, crude, and annoying. Also, my Bolian biochemistry is caustic, and makes going Bumpers with me a minor health risk."

"Such health risks can be surmounted," Eydiir pointed out. "With the use of protective sheaths and dental dams."

"Hey, who are we talking about, me or Sasha?" Neraxis drank some more before continuing. "You were right to dump him. Imagine that, him telling you what you can do with your own body."

"Exactly!" Sasha agreed, cheeks stuffed with snacks. She wiped crumbs from her mouth with her sleeve. "My body, my rules!"

"But Good Friend Sasha," Kit offered, "My own people possess a sense of romantic love if not a sexual one, and it, like yours and many other humanoid races, involves an element of possession."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Possession and ownership is often implicit: in songs, in poetry, and in marriage vows. 'Will you be mine', 'Be my lover', 'To have and to hold', 'Will you take this man to be yours?'."

Nearby, Rrori, playing Double Jacks with Jonas, threw down a card and selected another, grimacing slightly at it. "Perhaps, Kit, but they are not married, they were not Bonded."

"No," Kit agreed, looking to Sasha again. "So how would you classify your relationship with Good Friend Giles?"

"I-" She thought about it, and not for the first time. She couldn't see this as a lifelong commitment with him, not at their ages and at this time in their lives; it wasn't like the old days, when they had to marry and have babies before they died of the plague or something. She loved being with Giles: working, talking, making love. A part of her remained impenitent for being with C'Rash, even as she regretting that Giles was hurt because of it. "I... don't know, Kit."

"You love him," Eydiir reminded her.

"But that's not always enough," Jonas pointed out, sending down his cards and smiling at Rrori. "Double Jack, again."

The Caitian growled. "You are not meant to be lucky with both cards and women."

"I recognise that love is often not sufficient in and of itself, Good Friend Jonas," Kit replied. "I am merely speculating if Good Friends Sasha and Giles can possibly renegotiate the terms of their relationship?" He looked to Sasha again. "Forgive me if I am overstepping the bounds of our own relationship."

She was about to respond, when the door to their quarters chimed, and then it slid open a second later, to reveal Giles, standing in the doorway, ignoring the looks from the others to focus on Sasha. "Can I have a word alone with you please?"

"Have you come back to make more demands?"

He shook his head. "I just want to talk."

She seemed to consider the request, but remained motionless for so long some of them thought she'd fallen into a drunken stupor with her eyes open, and nudged her. She clambered to her feet, straightened herself with as much dignity as she could muster, and motioned to the bedroom, expecting him to follow without watching him. Once the door slid shut to the rest of her quarters, she leaned against one of the bunk beds and asked, "Well? What do you want to say?"

He fidgeted, visibly gathering his thoughts before finally replying, "I wanted to apologise for reacting the way I did. It was- It was a shock to hear that you'd have been with someone else. I got a little crazy. I kept thinking about what I had done wrong, what I was doing wrong, to make you look to someone else. I was- I was a total jerk to you."

She wanted to agree with him. She wanted to get smug and triumphant over his admission of blame, and to tell him to go to the Seven Hells and not come back.

But she didn't. She couldn't. "You've never done anything wrong, Giles. On the contrary... you've been wonderful to me, more than I deserve. I'm attracted to women as well as men, not to the same degree, but it's there, it was always there, and it was something that I could only ever talk about with our Counselor. Then this Caitian female came along, and she gave me an opportunity to see what this new direction was like. And... I took it.

But I was wrong not to think about how it might affect you. I'm sorry."

He nodded back, smiling a little. "So, think we're suitably sorried out now?"

"Yes." She smiled. "Maybe we can still be friends?"

"I'm hoping so."

Sasha nodded at that - and then drew up and pulled him into a long, lingering, open-mouthed kiss, one he eagerly returned.

*

Minutes later, the other members of Sasha's team sat around pretending not to hear the rhythmic thumping of the bunk bed frame against the adjacent wall.

Until Kit declared to no one in particular, "They appear to be renegotiating."

Jonas smirked. "I wonder whose bunk they're in?"

"Based on the location of the noise," Eydiir declared sullenly, "Mine."

"Hey, congratulations!" Neraxis declared, raising her beer bottle in salute. "Your first damp patch!"

*

Clad in a silk dressing gown, Kami heard the snoring through T'Varik's door as she stopped outside it, and let herself in without introduction as instructed.

She started at the sight of her husband sprawled out on his first officer's couch, his legs dangling over one end, his tail poking out from between the cushions under his rear, and several PADDs somehow balancing themselves on his belly, constantly threatening to slide off with each slow, deep snore he made. His mouth was open, and drool collected on one side.

"There's my sexy man," she murmured, looking to T'Varik. "How long has he been out?"

She was standing nearby, a PADD of her own in hand. "8.6 minutes. I appear to have fully exhausted him."

"Boaster," Kami teased. "Why didn't you wake him yourself?"

"I tried. He did not respond to verbal clues, and an attempt to physically awaken him resulted in an subconscious and inappropriate gesture on his part. I thought it would be best to leave this in your capable hands."

On the couch, Hrelle made some sleepy sounds and mumbled, "Come back to bed, darlin..."

"Cut it out, idiot," Kami scolded loudly. "I knew you woke up the moment you caught my scent as I entered the room."

Hrelle opened his eyes and sat up quickly, wiping the drool from his muzzle and scattering his PADDs onto the floor. He looked up at T'Varik and smiled. "Sorry. Guess I don't have your Vulcan stamina."

"Clearly not. You do compensate, however, with Caitian charm. I did not believe our talk with the Superintendent would have been as successful as it was without your impassioned input."

"She agreed to the new mission?" Kami asked.

"More than that," Hrelle informed her, beaming, "We're getting more cadets. Ten more, to be precise: two new squads, Delta and Epsilon, made up of Fourth Year seniors who didn't make it into the Program last year. We're going to need them, to supplement the crew with our new mission parameters on the Surefoot."

"The Surefoot-A, to be precise," T'Varik corrected. "Although of course it is acceptable to neglect the suffix letter in causal conversation. When do you wish to inform the crew?"

"The sooner, the better, we have a shipload of work to do in the next two weeks, including transferring our possessions, undergoing certification on some of the necessary systems over on the new ship, yadda yadda... how does 0800 Hours sound?"

She nodded, glancing at her wall clock. "That will be 4 hours 32 minutes from now. Will you be sufficiently rested?"

"I will be if my wife can keep her paws to herself for once."

"I just got woke up out of a sound sleep to come collect you," she informed him archly. "You'll be safe for a good while, I would think."

He smirked, and then brightened. "Cake! We'll need a cake for the briefing!"

"Cake will not be appropriate, Sir."

But his eyes were glazed with thought, and his hands made indistinct shapes in front of him. "Get a cake made in the shape of a Saber-class starship! Devil's Food Cake!"

"Good night, Sir; it has been a singular sleepover with you, but you should leave now."

Kami took him by the elbow and guided him to the door. "Come on, you can play with your friend in the morning. Say goodnight, sweetie."

"Goodnight, Sweetie," he offered T'Varik as he departed.

*

There was no cake, but Hrelle was too caught up in the buzz of the excitement in the crowded room - and on the three coffees he had downed before the briefing started - to care. "For those of you not in the know, a fleet tender is a support vessel designed to carry military cargo, arms, relief crew and medical/repair facilities to front-line vessels who can't afford to leave their assigned patrol routes to re-equip themselves, or possess sufficient resources to manage for long on their own.

Although not significantly larger than its predecessor, the new Surefoot makes far more efficient use of interior space, allowing for increased cargo capacity, relief crew barracks and living facilities that double as an emergency sickbay, a fabrications bay to facilitate repairs to other vessels, additional transporter units for mass evacuations, superior phaser and photon torpedo capability, and a modified tractor array equal to that of vessels twice its size or more, for salvage and retrieval operations.

This new ship will also be getting additional crew: two more cadet squads, a new Chief of Security, a surgeon to supplement Dr Ling..." He indicated the tall, lanky Kelpien in the far corner. "And a new Chief Operations Officer and third in command. Lt. Neheru here has agreed to sign onboard; his knowledge and experience with the Saber-class vessel will make him invaluable.

We're going to need him. We're gonna need it all. Our new missions will be more important. As will your responsibilities, commensurate with your status as final-year cadets. More will be expected of you, because there'll be more at stake. But I have faith that you can all rise to meet the challenge."

A cheer erupted from the crowd.

Beside him, Kami nudged his belly, prompting him to hold up his furred hands for silence again. "Oh, and in the spirit of efficiency, as we're all together, we also wanted to announce that my wife and I are expecting a child." The crowd let loose another cheer, as he added, "MY SPERM ARE AMAZING!" giving Sasha a thumbs up before she hid her face in her hands.

Afterwards, Neheru approached Hrelle, his elongated limbs moving with a flexibility envious to the Captain. "Sir, I am grateful to you for this unexpected opportunity; one is often not made third in command of a vessel at my age."

"Well normally it might have gone to the Chief Engineer or Chief of Security, but the former will be too busy learning and managing the new engines, and we don't have a latter yet. And in fact Commander T'Varik doubled as our Chief Operations Officer, but she'll have her hands full with her other duties. Besides, you've commanded ships before, so it won't be too new for you."

"As I told you before, Sir, I was merely a glorified valet-"

"Who stepped up and proved himself when required."

"Thank you, Sir. But while I am obliged to thank you, I am also obliged to warn you."

Hrelle's ears twitched with curiosity. "Warn me? That sounds ominous. What about?"

"Well... me, Sir. I will of course perform my duties to the best of my abilities, as per my oath to Starfleet. But I do so under the philosophy of my people: that life is too valuable to risk losing it unless absolutely, positively necessary - and even then, there had better be a very good excuse to fight, if flight is an option.

Especially when speaking of these cadets of yours. I know I'm not much older than them. But I will not allow any of them to endanger their own or each other's lives, or to act like 'mavericks' or 'hotshots'. I intend that they live long, safe, happy, fulfilling lives. Even if they hate me for it."

Hrelle smiled. "I think you and I are going to get along well, Mr Neheru."

*

"Captain's Log, Stardate 42243.01: they've stripped the old Surefoot of everything that isn't being taken with it in tow to the Qualor Shipyards. All our personal possessions have been transferred over to the new Surefoot, orders have been signed and countersigned in triplicate, Commander T'Varik is arranging for the two new cadet Squads to be transported here, and we are employing some of Starbase 154's holosuites as training platforms to gain our certifications for the new systems. Commendations are on file for all my senior officers."

Hrelle paused, sitting in his Captain's chair on the old bridge for the final time. There were minimal lights, it was cold, and the door behind him was secured open, letting him hear footfalls approaching.

He tapped the log button on the arm of his chair once more. "This is my final log onboard this ship. It was not a long partnership we had, but it was my first after my escape from captivity, my first in this new direction my life has taken. I will always remember it, and treasure it. Captain Esek Hrelle, commanding USS Surefoot... out." He stared ahead at the blank viewscreen. "Commander?"

T'Varik drew closer. "Am I disturbing you, Sir?"

"No. I was merely doing something I never had the chance to do with the Furyk: say goodbye to her."

She folded her hands behind her. "'Her'. I will never be exuberant about the practice among many races of assigning feminine pronouns to starships. It is both antiquated and sexist."

"Sexist?"

"Of course. It is certainly sexist to refer to something one possesses, directs and commands as feminine. It is a practice expected of humans; it is however a surprise to hear it from Caitians, given your matriarchal society."

He smiled. "That's because we don't look on our ships as objects we own and command, but rather as our mothers: respected and revered, protecting and guiding and commanding us, even as we bask in the illusion of control."

She nodded at that. "I am aware of the emotional attachments that can be formed, and of various superstitions that arise among vessels... and their Captains. Including that of the Umglick, Sir."

He looked up at her. "Kami told you? Why am I asking, of course she did."

"I needn't remind you of the absurdity of believing in luck, good or bad."

"Two ships, T'Varik... Two ships..." he reminded her, though he didn't sound too serious about it.

"Then if we are employing superstition, I will invoke another: 'Third time's the charm'."

He looked up at her with regard. "You know, you're right."

She raised an eyebrow. "I suspect you had already reached that conclusion. You are a resilient, positive force."

"Yes, it's annoying, isn't it?" Hrelle smiled and rose to his feet. "Well, if this Surefoot was like a mother to us, I think she would tell us that her time had passed, and that we had to move on. Shall we?"

"Yes, Sir."

He stopped at the doorway and took a final farewell glance at the darkened bridge.

And reminded himself to get his new chair adjusted to accommodate his tail.

*

USS Vigilant, Deck 1, Captain's Ready Room:

Captain Yung looked like a teenager, even in his thirties and with his new sable goatee, thus earning him the secret nickname - Captain Yungster - among his crew. He tolerated it, knowing that someday, this youthfulness would work in his favour.

Now, however, he stayed focused on the crewmember standing before him, and the orders he received ten minutes before. "Well I have to say, Lieutenant, you must lead a charmed life."

"Sir?"

"I'm sure you thought you were being brought in here to face yet another reprimand, perhaps even a court martial; it wouldn't be beyond the realm of possibility, given how you've behaved on my ship since your arrival, now would it?"

"Sir?"

He held up his PADD. "But no, you're here because I received this: priority orders to transfer you to another ship, and your promotion to the post of Chief of Security of a fleet tender serving the Cardassian Border and the DMZ."

"Sir?"

He glared at her. "It's called the Surefoot, commanded by a Captain Esek Hrelle. You leave by shuttle within the hour." He set aside the PADD. "Well, I don't know who's pulled these strings for you, but if I did, I'd send them a case of Saurian brandy. You have been an almighty thorn in my side since you arrived, so I'm glad someone else can have the burden of dealing with you." He paused and snapped, "Well? Have you anything to say beside 'Sir'? Come on, speak your mind, this is a rare opportunity, one that doesn't arise."

Lt. C'Rash regarded the offer before her, smiled and replied, "Kiss my furry ass, Sir..."

THE ADVENTURES OF THE SUREFOOT WILL CONTINUE IN... SHAKEDOWN