Surefoot 30: Class of 2372

Rrori blinked. "This is your defence of me?"

Sasha ignored him. "When he is not fixed to the nearest mirror admiring himself, he is strutting about the ship inviting others to admire him. And that's not even taking into account his libido. He will hump anything with a pulse... and a few things without one, and I stopped counting the nights he has awakened the rest of Alpha Squad with making his bed shake from constantly stroking off."

"Seriously," Rrori assured her, "You don't have to do this."

"But I learned that there's more to him than that," Sasha continued, smiling. "I learned how brave he was. How talented. How caring. He loves his clan, and after the business with the Rising Star, he was ashamed, not just because of his actions, but because of how let down you would have been with him."

"He was right," his mother agreed.

Sasha nodded. "The first night he arrived onboard the Surefoot, I told him that he was brilliant -- but reminded him that he was now among others who were also brilliant. He had to adjust. It wasn't easy for him, I know. Especially with all the pressure his clan were putting on him to be the Best of the Best."

Mriri harrumphed. "You are blaming us now for his concealment?"

"No, Madame, with respect, I am reminding you of the Great Mother's own words: 'Our love for our cubs can be perfect. Our cubs cannot'. And I am informing you that I am Caitian and respect your -- our people's -- beliefs and strengths. I have acted as his Shrinna, his Older Sister, in your absence. I claim this responsibility." She strode up to Rrori now, clasping him by the shoulders. "You are my brother now. I am proud of you, and I will always be proud to serve with you in the future."

Rrori swelled, and swallowed as she hugged him.

Then she pulled back and smacked him on the snout.

He cursed. "What was that for?"

She pointed a finger at him. "That was for embarrassing your clan in public! Do it again and they'll have to clone you a new pair of balls! Understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am!" he exclaimed.

The Matriarch looked to her daughter and remarked, "I'm beginning to like her."

*

Elsewhere, Eydiir stood back and observed as Kit laughed with Hafsa and her parents, before noticing his squadmate, making his excuses and approaching the Capellan. "Best Friend Eydiir, it is very good to see you! Truly!" He hugged her.

She hugged him back. "Forgive my interruption-"

"No!" He glanced back at his girlfriend and her family, and confessed in a low voice, "I am exhausted! Exhausted from all the jokes! They tell jokes all the time!"

She grunted dryly. "So there is a limit to your hunger for puns. The others will be pleased to hear of this; they assumed your capacity was inexhaustible."

*

Giles caught a glimpse of Hrelle as the Captain moved along a row of parents of cadets, and smiled for his attention. The Caitian strode up, holding out a hand. "Good morning, Ensign Arrington."

Giles accepted it. "Good morning to you too, Sir. I'm glad I saw you before the ceremony. There's so much I want to thank you for."

He smiled back. "Me? What did I do?"

Giles straightened up. "From the first day we met, and you made me sit on the Naughty Step for insulting you rather than face expulsion, you were out to help me. To make me a better man. You did."

Hrelle shrugged. "You made yourself what you are now. And I'm glad you patched things up with your father. Have you changed your mind about that border ship posting?"

The young man hesitated. "I'm... not sure. Dad has a position on offer at Starfleet HQ, working with a team looking at improving border ship and crew capabilities."

Hrelle nodded. "Sounds good; you've been out there, worked with them, spoken with the crews. You know what they need, what works and doesn't work, better than most of the higher ranks stationed here. You'll be very valuable."

"Yes. But... But won't it look like I'm just giving in to my family's wishes?"

Now Hrelle smiled. "Whether you go to the border, or help those on the border here, you're doing it because it's the right thing and you want to do it, and it doesn't matter what other people think." He glanced around. "After all, you didn't care what I thought when you defiled my daughter on that shuttle run all those years ago, did you?" He sniffed. "Or last night, for that matter?"

Giles paused, gauging how serious the Caitian was being. After all this time, he still wasn't entirely sure.

*

The ceremony soon commenced, with the cadets in the front rows and the guests in the outlying sections, all rising for the Federation anthem, before the Superintendent stepped forward on the raised podium, looking out at the crowd, her voice carrying from the tiny microphone pinned to her uniform. "I had a pretty good speech written in advance. I was quite proud of it, actually; it would have knocked your socks off. But I overheard something last night that made me rethink all that.

So I put my speech aside to knock the socks off of the Class of 2373. And instead, I'm going to ask you, the Class of 2372, to ask yourselves something: why are you in Starfleet?"

As a murmur ran through the crowd, in the front row, Sasha glanced at Giles, her fellow Squad Leaders and cadets, and then at her Dad and the other officers standing at attention to the side, who looked equally bemused.

"It is a question I hope you have genuinely asked yourselves," Goldstein continued. "I know it would have been asked of you many times, before you were even accepted. And I know that you would have given the appropriate answers, otherwise you wouldn't have made it as far as you have. But that doesn't mean the answers were honest, or that they haven't changed with time.

The answers you can give will be as numerous as the worlds you will have come from. You wish to do service for the Federation that has given you so much. You wish to be all that you can be. You wish to expand the boundaries of science, of medicine and exploration. You wish to follow in the footsteps of family, or others who have inspired you. You wish to defend our way of life.

There are other reasons, of course. You may wish for fame, for glory and acclaim. You may wish to get medals. You may wish to get your names in the media, to be heroes. You may even wish to become a legend, like so many others who have been here, and be honoured so." She indicated the surrounding buildings. "This was the first of the Starfleet Academies, and considered the most prestigious. Just about every building, every garden, every field and walkway is named after a renowned graduate here: Archer, Suku, Grelev, Kirk, Nguyen, Pike, Sortek, Nielsen, Sylhaon... you may wish for something like that to be awarded to you, too.

These wishes are understandable. But if they are the only things that drive you to put on that uniform every day and go out there... do yourself a favour and reconsider. Those aforementioned names, those so-called heroes, had one thing in common: they didn't do what they did for fame, for glory or for acclaim. They certainly didn't do it for the medals, or the honour of having a building or a fountain at the Academy named after them -- most would have cringed with embarrassment at the very thought of something like that -- but instead, they did what they did because it was their job.

The plain fact is that most of you will go on to perform duties that will never get medals or commendations or even acknowledgements. That does not mean they are not vital. That does not mean you are not vital. You are. Each and every one of you."

As she spoke these last words, a varied group of people in civilian clothes, of many different races and sizes and ages, were escorted towards the podium, as Goldstein continued. "If my words today have meant you need new reasons for putting on those uniforms every day, I would like you to listen to a few people I managed to gather at short notice to come here today. Just some of the innumerable people that are out there now. Real, ordinary people whose lives have been touched by Starfleet, and who now wish to offer their thanks, to them. And to you."

Goldstein stepped aside, adjusting a microphone on a stand to accommodate the first civilian, a thin, elderly human male, who looked out at the crowd. "My name is Vihan Giragosian, of Earth. 61 years ago, I was a child with my family on a transport ship, the Mountbatten, journeying to start a new life on Tomed when the Romulans began their offensive. We thought we were doomed. Then Starfleet arrived and saved me, saved my family. We lived. On behalf of myself, my family, and all those who have been born and lived since then: thank you."

A middle-aged Trill female was next. "My name is Yidzul Ruun. When I was a child, I was stricken with Benzite Cytofibrosis. It was a slow, lingering, painful disease. My parents did their best to hide the truth from me, but I knew I would never see adulthood." She smiled. "But then a Starfleet doctor on a planetary survey ship made a connection between another disease and mine, and suggested a treatment for both. A treatment that was successful. On behalf of my husband, my children, the life that I have had since because of the actions of that member of Starfleet: thank you."

And others followed.

"My name is Wandalan Lawes. I live on Meradas III. An ancient robot from a dead civilisation had somehow activated, and threatened to destroy my planet. The crew of the USS Ignis gave their lives to stop that machine. On behalf of myself, my family, and everyone on my planet: thank you."

"My name is Professor Togtun Ezah. I am a stellar physicist who has spent most of my life looking for a way to extend the lifespans of stars that nurture inhabited worlds. I was stuck for the longest time... until Starfleet assisted me, provided ships and equipment and expertise. Their tireless efforts helped move me that much closer to finding what I seek. I could not have done it without them. On behalf of myself, and all those who will one day benefit from this work: thank you."

"My name is Barinot Chan-"

"-when our colony was attacked-"

"The team found the survivors and ferried them from the disaster zone-"

"The infection had gripped our world-"

"A Starfleet vessel swooped in-"

"-on behalf of our city: thank you."

"Thank you!"

"Thank you."

The last speaker was the shortest: a hairless, grey-scaled humanoid in a hooded top that seemed worn to protect from the mid-morning sunlight. It seemed frail, or perhaps just nervous, as Goldstein adjusted the microphone stand to accommodate their height. It spoke with a voice that Universal translator extricated as typically female. "My name is Malala Ufa-Zoysia. I am Malurian. I am fourteen. Two years ago, I lived on an asteroid with my people, isolated from the rest of the Galaxy. Then people came, and took us... all the children... away with them."

Sasha gasped, her jaw dropping as she glanced at Giles and the rest of Alpha Squad, seeing in their expressions their own recognition: the Malurian children they found on the freighter Beholder two years ago...

"They locked us away in a container," Malala continued, though it was obvious that the memory of that time was still painful to her. "Where we were kept cold and hungry and sick. They told us that we would work in mines for them, that we would never see our families again. We believed them.

But then members of Starfleet -- cadets who are standing among you right now -- discovered us, and risked their lives to save us." She nodded, milky-white tears running down her sallow face. "And they did save us. And they got us back to our families, just as they promised. And more; they reunited our people with more like us, found us a new world to call our own. To be safe, and free, and happy. Like all people should be.

I thank those who saved us. And I thank all of the rest of you, for risking your lives to join Starfleet, and whom I know would be willing to do the same for us, and for others who need help. Someday I hope to be among you, to pay forward all the good that has been done, for me. For all of us."

Sasha couldn't stop wiping the tears from her own face, as she watched Goldstein approach the Malurian girl, hugging her before sending her to join her guardians. The Superintendent looked teary-eyed herself, as the sky above darkened. "Well, that's a tough act to follow... but we do have to try. The rest of the ceremony today will..."

Her words trailed away as she looked up at the quickly-darkening sky.

At the sidelines, Misha was standing beside his mother, clad in a miniature replica of a Starfleet cadet's uniform, not having stopped talking about it since his encounter with Boothby. But now he held up his hands, watching the hairs stand on end. "Mama, look!" Then he sniffed. "Air smells furry!"

Hrelle and Kami felt the same, glancing at each other before he walked up onto the dais, watching Goldstein turn her back to the audience to tap her combadge. "Ops! Come in! What the hell's going on? I booked this for a sunny day months ago! Ops! Security!" She looked to Hrelle. "What's happened to our comm systems?"

Hrelle was watching as a sky that had been clear just moments before was now thickly packed with angry clouds that fought and swirled, the latter in a way that took him back to his days as a cub, on his father's fishing boat watching as waterspouts dipped down onto the waters, like the tongues of demons. Now he tried his own combadge, knowing it wasn't on the same network as the Academy staff. "Hrelle to Surefoot. Are you reading us?"

Neheru's voice picked up over the rising wind. "Yes, Captain! We're detecting a Category 1 storm- no, wait, now it's Category 2! Starfleet Security is reporting Earth's Weather Modification Net has been compromised, as have the power and communications grids in the San Francisco Bay Area!"

Hrelle and Goldstein exchanged glances, before Hrelle asked, "Can you start beaming people to a safe area?"

"Negative, Sir! The storm contains unprecedented amounts of ionic interference that would make transport unsafe!"

Hrelle grunted; so much for it being an innocent malfunction. "And there's no other reports elsewhere on Earth? No attacks?"

"No, Sir!"

"Contact Starfleet Security, offer any assistance if required, but otherwise stay in geosynchronous orbit, and if our cadets and crew have communications, we'll need you switchboarding it. Hrelle out." He looked at Goldstein again. "Sabotage, like the Antwerp bombing and the Jiaozhou Bay Bridge collapse. We have to get everyone indoors! The Main Hall is large and secure enough!"

The Superintendent nodded, stepping forward to face the audience again. "Everyone-" She stopped as she realised the microphone had lost power too, and shouted now, "Everyone, move to the Hall! Stay calm!"

Hrelle stepped forward, signalling to Sasha. "Our own combadges still work! Coordinate efforts to get everyone inside!"

In the front row, Sasha signalled her acknowledgement and turned to her fellow squad leaders. "Giles, Falok, herd the left section inside, watch for stragglers! Naavos, Izzy, the right section! Alpha Squad, you're with me! We've got the VIPs on the dais!" As the wind whipped her hair, she added, "Watch out for flying debris!"

On the dais, Hrelle watched Sasha's squad lead most of the VIPs away, while he was guiding Goldstein, motioning for Arrington to do the same with Trenagen. Arrington called over to him, "We need to get to Campus Ops-"

Hrelle's eardrums protested at the pressure changes- and then he cursed inside as he looked up and saw the vortices forming in the clouds. "Not out here, Bill! Come on!"

They made their way with the others, Hrelle stopping at the door into the Hall and letting Goldstein make the rest of the way inside herself as he turned back to face the field. The air was in a frenzy now, with chairs tumbling and even whipping up into the air to shatter against the sides of buildings, and trees that had stood on these grounds for centuries without complaint now shuddered as their leaves were stripped from their branches-

A noise caught his attention, and he turned to see two of his cadets, Zajan and Beaumont, trying to escort a civilian to the Hall, staying close to the wall- it was Mi'Tree! They were struggling, with the Caitian's bulk, and with an obvious injury to the male's ankle, and Hrelle raced ahead to help, recognising the cadets close up, signalling the smaller of the two, the Suliban Zajan, to get inside, while he took his place, slipping an arm around his kin-father, stopping only when a chair struck the wall in front of them.

Finally they entered the Hall's anteroom, as other cadets slid the door shut with the manual overrides. It was dark here, the air thick and hot, and Hrelle looked to see Sasha draw up, smiling. "You found Grandpa!" She reached out to him, patting him on the shoulder. "Grandma's been worried sick about you, you old cat-"

Mi'Tree turned and bared his teeth at her, growling.

Sasha drew back in shock, as Hrelle tensed, instinctively stepping between his daughter and kin-father. "Mother's Cubs, Mi'Tree, what do you think you're doing-"

The older Caitian glared at each of them in turn. "Leave me alone! Why can't you all just bloody well leave me ALONE?"

Then as he hobbled away into the main room, Sasha looking to Hrelle, confused. "Dad? What's wrong? What did I say?"

He patted her shoulder. "Nothing, hon. His pride was hurt along with his ankle." He returned to the business at hand. "Someone's sabotaged the weather, power and communications in the area, but fortunately it seems confined to us." He nodded towards the hall. "The civilians will be in shock, scared, wanting answers-"

She nodded back. "Jonas had an idea about restoring power to the building, he's working on it now. We're also getting food and blankets, and a few other things. May I continue, Sir?"

"Carry on."

She looked to Zajan and Beaumont, still at the door. "Keep an eye out, if you see anyone in trouble out there-"

He nodded. "We'll go out for them."

"You will NOT! You will call me first, and I'll go out! Understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am!"

Then she was off.

Despite the ongoing calamity and the nasty business with Mi'Tree, Hrelle couldn't stop his tail wagging with pride as he entered the main hall. It was packed, most of the people wisely staying away from the flanking high, narrow windows, though some ventured closer to view the storm outside. Confused, anxious voices were raised, and the air was thick with the same emotion.

He found Kami, Misha and Ma'Sala together, the Matriarch going up to him and asking, "Have you seen Mi'Tree?"

He nodded. "He twisted his ankle, we brought him in. Then he bared his teeth at Sasha."

He face went taut. "He did what?"

"She made a little joke about him being old, he took it badly."

She took it in, nodding. "I'll speak with him. Any word on what's happening?"

"A localised incident; if it's like the others that have happened on Earth, Vulcan and the other central worlds, it'll be from Dominion saboteurs. I have to report in."

She nodded again, her hand patting his shoulder as he approached his wife and cub, Misha sitting in his mother's arms, staring out at the lightning with wide-eyed wonder. "Papa! Fizzers!"

"No, Warrior Prince, not phasers." He rubbed the toddler's muzzle, before doing the same with Kami. "You two okay?"

"Yes. Now get going, they need you. They're senior officers and fellow starship captains, but like these civilians none of them will have your practical experience with disaster."

"Sounds like you're needed, too."

"Yes." She looked to Misha. "Let's go find the other cubs, eh? They might be scared and need our help."