Surefoot 23: Baby Steps

*

Deck 3 Mid, Sickbay Suite -- 1202 Hours:

Misha hissed as he lay on the biobed.

"Sweetheart! No!" Kami chided, looking at Dr Ling with embarrassment. "Sorry, Juliet. He's just tired."

The gaunt Asian woman was beginning to show signs of grey in her bun of sable hair, but her smile was one of youthful amusement. "No, he hates me. All children do. Even when I was a child as well, they hated me." She rechecked the readings overhead. "After I became a doctor, I was going to specialise in Paediatrics, as if constant exposure might somehow lift the curse from me. Worst six months of my life. None of my patients could stand to be near me." She passed a more local biosensor over the cub. "The Chief of Residents practically begged me to take a ship-based assignment, so long as there were no children onboard."

Kami smiled, but asked, "Is he okay?"

Ling set aside the instruments. "Fit as a fiddle, as they used to say. His muzzle will begin growing out soon, and that'll cause discomfort for the next five to six weeks." She looked at Kami, smiling. "But then, you've gone through all this before, with your firstborn."

The Caitian reached out and picked up her infant. "That seems a lifetime ago, and we were planetbound. Out here... out here feels more dangerous."

Ling approached. "Well, there's always that suggestion of mine for a subdermal implant, to monitor his location and biosigns. Since he's too young to wear a combadge-"

"Yes." Kami didn't like the idea of implants, even temporary ones; as sensible as they seemed, she shared the opinions of many that she knew, that it was an invasion of one's integrity, and left people open to vulnerabilities. "I'm still not sure. I'll talk it over with Esek."

Ling nodded, drawing in closer to the infant and smiling. "And you, Young Sir: when you start Muzzling, make sure your parents get you a strong pacifier."

Misha hissed in reply.

*

Deck 3 Fore, Alpha Squad Cadet Quarters -- 1245 Hours:

"The USS T'Sena?" Sasha repeated. "That's one of the Olympic-class hospital ships, isn't it?"

Sitting beside her on the floor of the bedroom, back against one of the bunks, Giles Arrington smiled. "Yep."

Sasha continued to stare at the cub in the chair opposite, snoring away to himself, and made the effort to keep her voice low. "It's a bit less... action-packed for you, isn't it? I was expecting one of the scouts or a frigate."

"Hospital ships crew structures contains permanent Rescue Teams, and more frequent use of shuttles during missions. On one of them, I'm more likely to get to command and fly." He knocked the side of his head. "This is me using my brain."

She smirked. "Don't tap too hard, you might knock it off that tiny little shelf you keep it on in there. Why not one of the Ambassador or Galaxy-class ones? Large crews, more chance to command Away Teams. You could always get your Dad to pull some strings-"

He frowned. "Don't even joke about that. He and my grandfather and brothers are all trying to jockey me towards Intelligence or Starfleet HQ. 'You're an Arrington', they keep telling me. 'You have a history to uphold'. The Hell with that!"

"Shush," she chided softly, nodding towards Misha, but then adding, "Good for you. You should stand on your own feet."

"What about you?"

Sasha lifted up her beer bottle, knowing she shouldn't be drinking so early in the day, but feeling she needed the illusion of courage. "I'm thinking of asking to stay onboard the Surefoot, as an Operations Officer under Neheru."

Giles frowned. "Really?"

She eyed him. "Why not?"

"Because you've been under your father's command for two years now."

"As a cadet. Now I'll be a full-fledged member of his crew."

"Yeah, but..."

"But what?"

The young man paused before shrugging. "But nothing. Your choice." Then he smiled, leaning in to put an arm around her.

She stopped him. "Giles... we need to talk." She edged herself away a little, putting distance between them on the pretext of facing him directly, even if her eyes fought to stay on him.

He flushed. "Why do I feel like I'm not gonna want to hear what you have to say?"

Sasha frowned back, hoping he wasn't going to make this any more difficult than it already would be. "Why do I feel like you should have already been expecting this before now? In a few months, we'll be graduating, and after the break take our first post-grad assignments. In separate directions. Not that we haven't been doing that already-"

"It doesn't have to be that way," he insisted. "We can-"

"We can, what? Get engaged? Apply for the same postings? When you were making your choices, did the thought of the two of us talking about choosing the same ones ever occur to you?"

He didn't answer.

"Okay, I'll be the one to say it: it didn't for me. Because I knew that we didn't have some timeless romance going on here. I... loved the time I've had with you. I've loved you. The company. The sex. The friendship-"

"Friendship," he repeated, with a bitter aftertaste.

"Yes; don't belittle friendship. The next few months are going to be intense, and then we're moving on, with individual life plans. We can both feel it. And I think it'd be better to make a clean break of it now, so we can focus on what's important-"

He smirked humourlessly. "Which obviously doesn't include us, right?"

"Oh come on, Giles! The last few months, we've been together simply for the sake of being together! Doing things as a couple because it was expected, not because we really wanted to!"

"So... looking to hook up again with your cousin?"

"No. Nor with anyone else, so don't climb up on that moral high ground. You think I hadn't noticed the attention you've been giving that Epsilon Squad pilot the moment her team joined the ship?"

He started to reply, but then just flushed and pursed his lips as he stared down at his boots.

"Thank you for not denying it," she said dryly, watching her sleeping brother, envying his peace. "I'm not angry, Giles. And I suppose the fact that I'm not angry about it says more than anything else about what we're investing in this relationship."

She reached out and blindly took his hand in hers, squeezing tightly. "You will always be my first. My first love. My first lover. That will never change, and you can always count on me to be honest and open with you. Which is why I can tell you all this now, rather than later. And... I know it's a cliché, but I'm hoping we can stay friends."

He made a sound, though she couldn't tell if it was one of agreement at her decision, or derision.

"We've seen each other's Sex Faces," she reminded him. "That puts us in a special club, doesn't it?"

He chuckled despite himself, admitting, "Yeah. I'm, ah, I'm gonna go now. I've got to process all this." Then he slipped out of her touch and helped himself back to his feet, looking down at her. "Did you choose this time to tell me, with Misha here and asleep so I wouldn't raise my voice?"

Sasha looked up at him silently. Guiltily.

He offered a smile that never reached his eyes. "Thank you for not denying it." Then he swallowed, and with genuine feeling admitted, "I'll miss you, Sasha Hrelle. I'll miss us."

"Me, too," she agreed, tears welling up in her eyes.

He saw it, and mercifully said or did nothing but depart the bedroom.

She had time to wipe her face once or twice before the door slid open again, and Kitirik poked his lime-green reptilian head through the doorway. "Good Friend Sasha... do you require company, or solitude?"

She looked up at him. Most of Alpha Squad were elsewhere on various duties, but they all knew what she had planned to do today. "Solitude, if you don't mind, Kit."

He nodded. "I will be in the main room should you wish me."

She smiled gratefully at him as the door slid shut again. Then the sobs flowed. She knew it had been the right thing to do, now before later when there would be other pressures, and she might make a stupid error of judgement. But that didn't make it any easier.

A sound from Misha made her look up from her cupped hands.

He was awake, staring straight at her, mewling and holding up his stubby arms.

The thought that she had awakened him, upset him, made her heart plummet. "Oh, Little Brother, I'm sorry! It's okay! Really!" She wiped her face again, leaned forward, unbuckled him and lifted him up into her arms. She felt him try to embrace her neck, his purrs travelling through her as her breath went quick and shallow, and she clung to him like a lifeline.

An hour later, the bedroom door slid open again, and Eydiir Daughter-of-Kaas entered, the tall, dark-skinned Capellan girl spotting Sasha in her lower bunk fast asleep, a protective arm around an awake and alert Misha, who looked up at the new arrival and gurgled with approval, arms clutching Sasha's childhood toy, a plush Caitian doll christened Captain Fuzzybutt, whose tail Misha was currently chewing into oblivion.

Silently Eydiir knelt by the bedside and carefully lifted the infant up without waking her friend, pulling a blanket up over Sasha before taking Misha and his chair and changing kit out with her.

*

Deck 4 Aft, Mission Ops Area, 1411 Hours:

Chief Grev wrinkled his stout porcine snout and narrowed his beady black eyes on the infant in the chair. "You're a smelly little faeces generator, aren't you?"

Misha blew a stunted raspberry in reply.

This made the Tellarite draw back and laugh, clicking his hooves in delight. "He's got the Banter already! We will enjoy insulting each other for years to come!" He then proceeded to switch on a tiny lightstick, placing the glowing lime-green rod in Misha's grasp. Then, as the infant brought it to his mouth to chew on it, Grev looked to the cub's father, sitting opposite. "It's non-toxic, and sturdy enough to stand his teeth. I had it tested."

"I hope you have, for your sake; I think he can chew through neutronium with his teeth. Shall we make contact now?"

Grev grunted and opened a channel. "Are you through dawdling over there, Lieutenant?"

On an adjacent wallscreen, the image of Jonas Ostrow, clad in a standard exosuit, appeared. "Sorry, I was busy relishing the sweet scent of your absence." He stood in a claustrophobic metallic chamber, with other figures in exosuits moving about, visually demonstrating the lack of gravity. "Captain, Chief, I've done my inspection of the asteroid impellers: eight of the eighteen verteron generators the Dytallix Company stated were implanted here as part of the facility are missing."

Hrelle sat up. "Missing?"

"As in stolen, Sir. About four months ago."

"How can you be certain, Lieutenant?" Grev asked. "Maybe Dytallix... 'exaggerated' the number of generators employed to raise the costs?"

"The evidence goes against it, Chief; the power usage dropped considerably at the four month stage, I've found evidence of boarding and laser cutter activity to unbolt the generators, and a false signal was deliberately rigged to send out to make it seem as if the asteroid was still on course for Kobliad. If Dytallix are guilty of anything, it's negligence in not checking the transponder signals more often and more thoroughly."

Hrelle nodded. "Any idea on who the thieves might be?"

"Yes, Sir: Cardassians."

Hrelle's expression went taut. "How do you know?"

"They were in exosuits just like us, but they were here for a long while, and like all exosuits, they produced atmospheric waste -- which includes DNA particles from their respiration units. Also, their laser cutters employ a unique helium-neon mixture that left residue."

Hrelle frowned now. It seemed both outrageous that the Cardassians would implement such a theft -- and also completely typical. "Educate me, Lieutenant: what are verteron generators used for? And why would the Cardassians risk an interstellar incident and steal some of ours instead of just making their own?"

"Well, Captain, normally even engines as large as these industrial warp impellers couldn't form a stable warpfield around an object as massive as this asteroid long enough to get it anywhere.

That's where the verteron generators come in; verterons are naturally found in wormholes such as the one near Bajor, and they've been found to stabilise large subspace fields, which is a theory as to why the Bajoran wormhole is unnaturally fixed. I'm not yet sure what they could do with the ones they took, unless they have an asteroid of their own to move."

Hrelle nodded again at that. "Can we get the asteroid back on course?"

"Already done, Sir, it was just a matter of rebalancing the remaining generators and reprogramming the main computer. It'll get there in 92 months."

Hrelle braced himself before asking, "Can we get it there in four?"

Jonas blinked. "Four, Sir? That's... not possible."

"Admiral Wayne says we have to get it there in four months. And we have five hours to come up with a way to do it."

"Sir..." The poor young man looked so pale now. "Sir, it can't be done! I promise!"

"I believe you," Hrelle assured him confidently. "But have a think about it anyway, and if you can come up with something, anything, consult the Chief, and implement it. Unlike the Admiral, I'm not expecting miracles, but be prepared to tell him so at 1900 Hours. Hrelle out."

As the screen darkened, Grev grunted at him. "That's a heavy responsibility for the pup, Esek."

Hrelle rose and drew in to his son, playing a gentle game of tug-of-war with the lightstick in Misha's grasp, smiling at the cub's attempts at growling. "He won't always be able to solve the problems thrown at him. And he won't always be working for someone as sympathetic or supportive." He looked up again. "Don't worry, I'll be there in case Wayne rattles him too much."

Then Hrelle's combadge chirped. "Captain, that long-distance call has been connected."

Hrelle beamed. "Thanks, Neheru! Get Kami, Sasha and C'Rash to the Ready Room!"

"I am told Ensign Hrelle is currently indisposed, Sir."

"Fine! Get the others! Hrelle out!" He lifted up Misha's chair. "Come on, my little Warrior Prince. Your grandparents are waiting!"

*

Deck 2 Fore, Ready Room -- 1544 Hours:

The three older Caitians on the opposite end of the call kept jockeying for a position in front of their holocommunicator, making their image at the receiving end appear as if a shapeshifter was in the midst. One portly grey-furred male with a booming voice suddenly took over, demanding, "Let me see him again, Kami!"

Kami drew closer. "Here you go, Papa Mi'Tree." She raised the infant up, making a sound. "I thought you were trying to lose weight for your comeback vivid."

He pretended not to hear her, leaning in to coo and gurgle at the infant -- until he leaned out of shot and his holographic image appeared to become headless, making Misha cry.

"Papa!"

The headless Mi'Tree was pushed off of the transmitter pad, replaced by a large-framed Caitian female of equal age but greater bearing, keeping herself straight and her eyes focused on the infant, waggling her fingers at him until he calmed down again. "We are still planning on coming out to visit you in a few weeks, Daughter. I might even let you have my grandson back when we're done."

Kami smirked as she gently jiggled Misha to quiet him again. "I might let you have him, if you're willing to take on the late-night feedings. I'm sure my nipples never felt this sore with Mirow."

Ma'Sala Shall chuckled. "Apply shuris wax. Or get your husband to do it; he looks like he knows his way around your nipples."

Hrelle gave her a thumbs up, but then wound it up with, "We don't have long with this channel. We're looking forward to you, Mi'Tree and Bneea visiting-"

Suddenly C'Rash, who had been almost completely silent during the call, asked, "Before you close the call: can I have a private word with Ma'Sala, please?"

Hrelle and Kami looked to each other, and then at Ma'Sala's image, before Hrelle replied, "Sure, cub."

"Leave my grandson as well," Ma'Sala insisted. "He's the only one of you I'm interested in anyway. That, and my human granddaughter; give her my best."

C'Rash took Misha out of Kami's hands and waited until the others left before letting her expression sober. "Thank you, Matriarch."

The older female took visible note of the use of the title, and looked off-camera to say, "Go." After a moment, she faced C'Rash again. "What is it?"

The young female adjusted the infant in her grasp. "You read the message I sent you? About the incident with Uncle Esek on Skaros?"

"Yes. My kin-son did good work. I bet that field smelled of Barbecued Bastard."

C'Rash's jaw dropped in astonishment. "How can you joke about that? He killed dozens of people without a second thought!"

"He killed dozens of child sex traffickers, to save the children they had abducted, as well as his crew and himself - and you. If it had been me, or any Matriarch I know, we wouldn't have given it a first thought. Cub, I know they try to instil in you a sense that one shouldn't kill unless absolutely necessary... but given what you told me, do you think your uncle had any choice?"

"I'm not arguing that!" She drew closer. "Regardless of how right his actions might have been, I... I saw him- it was- he was... savage!"

The Matriarch shrugged. "That doesn't surprise me in the least. You are young; you have never born or raised a cub, and you have never killed. But we all carry within us the love of the Great Mother... and Her Fury, and both emotions are equally potent. I have never known a male to have as much of Her spirit as Esek does. But then, I have never known a male who has endured what he has endured at the hands of the Bel-Zon and the Orions."

"Then you agree? That he needs help?"

"He has my very capable Counselor daughter as his wife. And he has the support of his clan -- which includes yourself, I will remind you."

C'Rash swallowed as Misha grabbed a fistful of her hair and tugged, before choosing her next words more carefully. "Ma'Sala... aren't you- aren't you worried about him doing something to Kami or Misha-"

Ma'Sala cut her off with a raised finger. "You listen to me, you little tail-chaser: I have looked into my kin-son's eyes... and I trust him. I trust him with my daughter, my grandson, my kin-daughter Sasha, with you, and with his crew. You do not need to fear him. The only ones who have to fear him are those who would seek to harm those he loves and cares about." She lowered her hand. "How does my grandson react with him?"

"Misha? He's fine. But he's just a cub-"

The Matriarch glanced at her. "He's not 'just a cub'. You hold in your arms the most powerful sensor package on your ship. He is almost pure instinct at this age, undiluted by thoughts of social convention; he knows what he likes and doesn't like, knows who's a friend and who's a threat, and he's not afraid to tell you. You will not raise this subject again, with me or anyone else. Is that clear?"

Chastened, C'Rash nodded. "Yes, Matriarch."

Ma'Sala's features softened as she focused on the infant in C'Rash's arms, smiling as she caught his attention with her dancing fingers, ones he reached out in vain to grasp. "And in return, I will not inform my daughter that you have accused her husband and the father of her cub of being a potential danger to them. Because unlike me, she is physically present, and can do more than just verbally chastise you..." As Misha began to mewl, she added, "He needs a nap. You look like you need one too, now."

*

Deck 3 Fore, Holosuite -- 1640 Hours:

Misha tried in vain to reach for one of T'Varik's ears as she held him, narrating the holographic displays appearing before her audience. "On Stardate 47283.56, a Cardassian delegation was invited to an interstellar medical conference on Meezan IV, in the relative proximity of the asteroid at the time; their vessel would have had the opportunity to intercept the asteroid and board it. Of particular note was-" She paused as Misha tried to put his hand in her mouth. "Please desist. As I was saying, of particular note was one of the senior members of the delegation: Legate Hovat."