Surefoot 30: Class of 2372

"The story is apocryphal," T'Varik pointed out. "There was no official record of the incident."

"But it has become a tradition," Hrelle confirmed. "For the more daring in any particular class who hear about it."

"Did you do it, Uncle Esek?" C'Rash asked, smiling.

"Me? No! I was too shy. I used to have a weight problem back then." He looked to his wife, who was snickering. "What?" As Bill Arrington drew up, Hrelle smiled and asked, "How about you, Admiral? Did you do a Bellini before you graduated?"

The man made a nervous, distracted laugh as he glanced at the women. "I, ah... no. No. My father was the Superintendent at the time, after all." He glanced down at the drink in his hand before continuing. "Can I say something, Captain?"

Hrelle smirked. "I don't think you need my permission, Sir."

Arrington smiled hesitantly. "Probably not, but..." He seemed to steel himself. "My family... and I... have treated you appallingly over the years, without any real justification. On these grounds when we were cadets, when you came back from the Bel-Zon, in the dealings with Lucille... You, on the other hand, have been gracious and forgiving. I was touched that you invited us to your table, that you helped patch things up with Giles and me.

I want to publicly apologise to you now. And I sincerely hope that you can find it in your heart to let us start anew."

He held out his hand.

Hrelle stared at him, feeling bowled over by the request.

Then he offered his own hand. "There's enough conflict in the Galaxy already without our adding to it."

"Well done, gentlemen," Goldstein remarked, smiling. "Now maybe we should send you out to solve the Dominion Crisis?" She turned to T'Varik. "Commander, may I have a private word with you?"

The Vulcan nodded and departed with the Superintendent, as Kami asked, "Admiral, perhaps you could sate my curiosity: I know all this started with your late father when he was Superintendent. But what did Esek do to earn his wrath?"

Arrington blanched. "He, ah... he thought your husband was too cocky."

Hrelle blinked. "Cocky?"

The Admiral nodded. "Yes... he said you strutted about too much, like you owned the place. And then there were all the female cadets you were with... a different one each week..."

Kami smirked at her husband as she crossed her arms and. "Oh, really, Admiral? You must tell me more."

Hrelle harrumphed and turned back to Arrington. "Admiral, what are Lucille's plans now?"

Bill looked glad to save the Captain from any potential embarrassment. "No one's sure, not even Lucille, I think. She's accepted that the Bel-Zon had a hand in her erratic behaviour... but she was never the most patient and serene individuals before that. She was cleared for a return to duty, but she's talked of moving on. The Merchantfleet could always use an experienced command officer-"

"We could use one in Starfleet, too." Hrelle admitted. "Especially in the coming months."

"If you like, Admiral," Kami offered. "And if she wants, of course, I'd be happy to have a casual talk with her. I might be able to help her make her choices clear, help her find her confidence again."

Arrington brightened. "You would be willing to do that, Counselor? Give her an informal assessment?"

She smiled. "Actually, I've already started, Sir, when I let her take Misha in her arms, and watched her reaction with him -- and his reaction to her." She glanced at Hrelle. "And I've had some experience helping victims of the Bel-Zon."

*

The grounds had been cut that day; the smell lingered in the air, kept lingering by the sprinkler units rising up from various points.

The Surefoot cadets stood at the edge, quickly stripping off, half of them collapsing from drink or nerves, leaning against each other and laughing.

Sasha among them, glancing at her friends. It was a declaration. It was defiance.

It was delightful.

"Hey."

She turned to look at Giles, and smiled. "Hey yourself. You sure you should be doing this, being the youngest member of the Arrington Dynasty?"

He smirked. "Are you sure you want to be doing this, being Valedictorian and an example to others of the Best of the Best?"

She offered him her middle finger as she slipped out of the last of her clothes, just as the sprinklers started up, the droplets reflecting the white from the surrounding pathway lights. "Race you to the other side and back!"

The grass was wet and thick beneath her bare feet, the water a billion cold bullets striking every part of her. After a few metres, she acknowledged that running without a bra wasn't fun, but didn't stop, instead clasping her breasts down with one forearm while she raced down the field with everyone else, stopping at the end and racing back, still whooping and hollering.

They collapsed around their discarded clothes, laughing and chattering excitedly amongst themselves. Or, in the case of the couples, taking advantage of the nudity to reaffirm their mutual attraction.

Sasha watched, as much as she could without being intrusive, before lying on her back and staring up at the night sky -- acknowledging how long it had been since she had sex. With someone else, anyway.

She looked over at Giles, who had, intentionally or not, landed beside her, gasping for air. He looked as fit now as when she last saw him naked.

Giles. It had been almost like a star-crossed Romeo and Juliet thing, with their feuding families, and their mutual dislike melting into a respect, and then an attraction... she didn't regret breaking them up. They weren't like Jonas and Neraxis, in different fields; Giles and she both had plans for commanding starships, and neither would be satisfied for long being on the same ship with the other in charge.

But they did work, and played, well together... She smiled and rolled over to lie on her side, facing him. "Hey... wanna come back to my quarters?"

He was laughing... but sobered quickly when he realised she was being serious. "What, really?"

She nodded, then reassured him, "I'm not drunk, I'm not emotionally vulnerable, and I don't want to be a couple again. But I am horny. And if you're feeling the same, come over to mine. Soon." She glanced over her shoulder once, and then back at him. "But don't let the others know, or they'll never let us live it down."

She turned around again and reached for her clothes, hoping she wouldn't regret making her offer.

*

Two hours later, lying in bed, a warm wonderful glow rushing through her, Sasha decided she didn't.

"Ms Hrelle?"

She stirred, pulling the rest of the bedsheets up over her, silently daring Giles to fight her for them-

"Ms Hrelle, would you wake up, please? We need to talk."

She opened her eyes to the darkness, hearing the male voice, but not recognising it. She bolted upright, pulling the bedsheets up under her arms, seeing the silhouette sitting in the chair near her bed. "Computer: Lights!"

They obeyed, making her blink as she fixed on the elderly, pale-skinned human. He had receding snowy hair, a broad nose centred around a wrinkled, hangdog face, icy-blue eyes... and a Starfleet uniform with Admiral's insignia. He sat there casually, as if it was the most ordinary thing, speaking with an educated British accent. "Good evening. Forgive the intrusion at this late hour, and the lack of prior introduction, but one in my position must always be discreet."

Sasha's heart raced, and she glanced around carefully. Where was Giles?

"If you're looking for Mr Arrington," he advised, "He left some minutes ago, presumably not wanting to wake you. Have no fear, he remained unaware of my arrival."

"Oh. Well, Admiral, if you're here for a sleepover, I have to warn you, I haven't trimmed my toenails. Giles probably hobbled out of here on bloody feet."

He laughed softly. "You have a sense of humour; I appreciate that. It indicates a proclivity to cope with the unexpected, a most useful ability in my line of work."

"Which is what, breaking into female cadets' quarters in the middle of the night?"

"No, commanding Starfleet Intelligence... among other duties."

She started, tightening the bedsheets around her. "You're... Admiral Trenagen."

"At your service. And the Federation's of course." He put on a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I wasn't aware that you had resumed your prior relationship with Master Arrington. Does his father know? For that matter, does your father?"

She grunted, knowing Trenagen by reputation alone, and by the less-than-complimentary things her Dad had said about him. His presence, and his questions, were obviously meant to put her off-guard, to test her ability to, as he put it, 'cope with the unexpected'. "Is my sex life of interest to Starfleet Intelligence, or just you?"

"Neither. I am here to discuss you, not your romantic activities. You came to my attention following your participation in the Son'a Incident, and further research into your background and history has only impressed me more. You are a young woman of many gifts: strength, intelligence, adaptability, resourcefulness, leadership, and a fierce passion to protect others.

But just as important as your gifts, is your attitude. You have endured more in your few short years than most will ever face in a lifetime. You understand well how precarious life, and our way of life, is." He raised into view a PADD; she saw the scuff marks on it, and recognised it as her own. "Your Valedictorian speech sums it up succinctly: 'The greatest threats you'll face will not come from the Dominion, the Klingons, or the Romulans, not from criminal or terrorist organisations or natural phenomena, but from your own reluctance to do whatever is necessary to protect us.'" He set aside the PADD.

Sasha gave up, unwilling to indulge the man any longer. "With respect, Sir, it's late, and I was told you were a man who preferred to get to the point."

He smiled politely. "Indeed. Immediately following your graduation, you will be proceeding to Vulcan for an intensive three-month course in Advanced Command Training. It is certainly a prestigious start to your career in Starfleet, one undoubtedly and deservedly leading to a Captain's Chair. But you can do better, far better. With my help."

"Uh, thank you, Admiral, but I'm not really interested in a career in Starfleet Intelligence-"

"And I'm not interested in offering you one. SI is vital, of course. But it has its limits. And there are other means of protecting the Federation. Organisations where gifted, committed individuals such as yourself recognise that ours is a Universe teeming with dangers. And, like you, they are prepared to do whatever is necessary to protect us-"

"Are you talking about Section 31, Sir?"

"You've heard of it? From your father?"

"I... can neither confirm nor deny that." In fact, she had heard rumours from a number of sources, including her Dad. She assumed that it was just a modern legend, like interphasic gremlins and the Douwd,

Trenagen chuckled. "If such an organisation existed, your father might have been offered a position with it. He's very talented."

She stared at him. "But he would have turned something like that down. It would have gone against his principles."

Trenagen nodded sagely. "Indeed. It is understandable... but it is also, if I may say, selfish. What good are principles if you're not around to indulge in them, because you allowed hostile forces to overwhelm everyone and everything around you? The Needs of the Many, after all..."

He rose. "I must ask you in the strongest possible terms to tell no one of my presence here, or of what we have discussed. Should you be willing to put the Federation's interests over your own, contact my offices and request a visit; I will know what it means."

Then he vanished, without benefit of the usual transporter energy column.

*

Jonas made smacking sounds with his mouth as he pulled himself slowly, lazily, from sleep, smiling as he felt Neraxis spooning up against his back, her arm draped around his waist, her hot breath against his neck, the snickering at the side of the bed-

He opened his eyes. Alazia, Ishiwas and some of the younger Nemm siblings were in the room, Alazia carefully lifting up the bedsheets on Jonas' side to peer underneath. He cleared his throat.

The ones in the back jumped and ran back into the next room, but Alazia continued to stare back, smiling... and still tried lifting up the bedsheets.

Neraxis lifted up her head groggily over Jonas' shoulder and glowered. "Lazy! What are you doing?"

Alazia looked back at her big sister now, asking, "Is his wee-wee pink too?"

Jonas turned to Neraxis pleadingly.

She sat up, the bedsheets falling from her as she pointed to the door. "Go!"

Alazia dropped her hold on the bedsheets, but pointed back at Neraxis' chest as she scurried off, cackling, "BOOBIES!"

Jonas lay back again, staring up at the ceiling... and laughed.

Neraxis leaned over him and smiled. "Sorry. She was always bold. I don't know where she gets it from. I'll tell Mama-"

He reached up, stroking the back of her head. "I love her. I love them all. And your Mom. And you."

"Me, last?" she teased.

"I saved the best for last." He drew her down for a kiss, their mouths grinding.

A nearby knock parted them again, as Mrs Nemm peered around the corner and looked down at the couple in bed, smiling. "Sorry, sweeties, but since you two are the stars today, I thought you might want to use the bathroom first." She grinned. "You can even shower together."

From the adjacent rooms, several siblings made an Ooooohhhh sound at that suggestion, punctuated with Alazia declaring, "NAUGHTIES!".

*

The buzzer to her door drew Sasha out of a fitful sleep. She bolted upright, not quite sure where she was, the events of the night before rushing back to the forefront like puppies to the dinner bowl. The arguments, the Bellini, Giles- Trenagen! She wasn't sure that last had even happened -- until she saw her PADD sitting on the table, where he had placed it.

Her room buzzer caught her attention again, and she grabbed a T-shirt and boxers, slipped into them and moved to the door, surprised to find- "Grandma?"

Ma'Sala was clad in her red and black uniform of the Caitian Planetary Navy, and smiled. "Good morning, Grandcub. I know it's early, but I figured you'd need time to get ready and deal with those nerves." She entered, hugging the young woman as she went by. "I can hear your father bouncing around in his quarters next to mine already this morning, reordering larger-size jackets from-" She stopped, turned in place and sniffed the air.

Sasha tensed. "Something wrong?"

"There was a man in here last night." She looked to her. "Something you want to tell me?"

She swallowed, feeling her face burn. "Uh- I can't- I'm not allowed-"

"Don't be silly. I recognised Admiral Arrington's son's scent easily." She chuckled. "Hopefully he helped with some of those nerves."

Sasha laughed, as much with relief as with embarrassment at the Caitian's typical candour. "Uh, yeah, I guess."

Ma'Sala nodded, and drew closer again, hugging the girl once more. "You know, if someone told me a few years ago that I would not only have a human grandcub, but one who could make me so proud... Life throws us such surprises from time to time."

"Tell me about it," Sasha agreed, relishing the warmth, the strength and the scent from the older female. The familial connection was strong, though she knew in some cases, that could hurt. "Do you think Rrori's Matriarch and mother will forgive him?"

"Eventually. Even one of the Mighty Twenty Landers to the Motherworld will succumb to the charms of that cub."

"I wish I could say something."

"You can if you want. You have the right." Ma'Sala drew back to look at her. "You have been his Squad Leader for some years now. You can be seen as his Shrinna, his unofficial Older Sister. You can vouch for him. I'm sure he could use someone in his corner right now."

Sasha smiled, liking that idea. "Thanks, I'll do that this morning."

Ma'Sala smiled back. "At this time, Matriarchs offer cubs about to reach a life milestone like this some advice. And here's mine: whatever you do with your life, stand in the light. Not the shadows. Make sure it's something you can be proud and open about."

Sasha nodded at that, not quite sure what to make of it, but appreciating it.

Then the Fleet Captain nodded to the bathroom. "Get showered, while I prepare your uniform."

Sasha smiled and nodded again, turning and departing.

And never seeing the smile drop from Ma'Sala's face, as she sniffed the air again, her claws extending reflexively with recognition, and a growl smouldering in her throat.

*

The Academy Grounds were crowded, with hundreds of cadets, Academy personnel and civilians milling about in groups large and small, squinting in the bright morning light as reunions were made, images and videos were taken, and people were thanked.

Or in the case of Misha and Alazia, who were rushing around the many groups, chasing each other or some of the older children, scolded. Jonas and Neraxis stood together, sometimes accompanied by Neraxis' mother or some of the older siblings, for the images -- but Jonas turned his head and barked, "Alazia! Leave those people alone! They don't want you in their pictures!"

The little girl stopped running, nodded solemnly and replied, "Yes, Jonas!" Then she raced off in another direction after Misha.

Beside him, Neraxis nudged him. "Wow, you got her listening to you!"

He shrugged, smiling. "I'm novel. She'll get used to me soon and stop paying attention like she does the rest of you."

"Any room for me in there?" a new female voice asked from behind.

Jonas started, turning around, his eyes wide and his jaw dropping. "Mom?"

A tall, sturdy woman with hair as silver as Jonas', a pixie nose and a square jaw flanked with softer cheeks, strode up confidently alongside T'Varik, but then raced up the last few metres and swept her son up into her arms. "Oh, Jonas! I'm so glad I could get here in time!"

He was overwhelmed with shock, laughing almost hysterically. "Y-You're here! I- I can't believe it- H-How-" Then he looked over at T'Varik. "Commander?"

The Vulcan folded her hands behind her back. "After you informed me of the problems with your mother's vessel, I made some calls to the Transport Authority. Forgive my lack of communication on the matter, but I could not guarantee success, and did not wish to raise false hopes within you."

Tears ran down his face unabated as he kept hugging his mother... but silently mouthing to T'Varik: Thank you!

T'Varik nodded politely, turned and departed.

*

In another part of the field, Rrori breathed in, subdued in the presence of his Matriarch and mother, who took a few images of him, and spoke politely if briefly with those associates of his who approached.

Then Sasha arrived, like Rrori and the others in dress uniform, and addressed the females. "Good morning. May I speak with you in Meow's defence?"

The Matriarch looked to her daughter, and in Old Caitian muttered, "Send the Tailless Ape away."

"The Tailless Ape speaks the language," Sasha informed her, relishing the reaction on the older female, before continuing in Standard. "The Tailless Ape is also a Caitian citizen, in the Clan Registry, was awarded the Order of R'Masi last year... and also holds a Sixth Tier in K'Gressir, by the way, should you wish to continue to insult the Grandcub of Ma'Sala Shall. May I now speak in his defence?"

Mriri regarded the human, before nodding, "Proceed."

Sasha breathed in and announced, "Madame... Meow Rrori is the most vain, arrogant, self-centred, egotistical male I have ever encountered in my life."