Surefoot 46: Mr and Mrs Ostrow

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You are cordially invited to the wedding of some old friends.
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Part 60 of the 104 part series

Updated 04/10/2024
Created 10/24/2016
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Surefoot
Surefoot
205 Followers

SUREFOOT: MR AND MRS OSTROW

USS Surefoot, Deck 3 Mid -- Sickbay Suite:

"STINKY COMPUTER!"

Dr Shyrik had been in her office opposite the Crèche, cursing her article for the Starfleet Medical Journal for its inability to write itself, when she heard the exclamation from within. Recognising the voice, she rose from behind her desk, crossed over and entered the other room. "What do you think you're doing, young man?"

Misha Hrelle stood in front of his computer display, his chair knocked away, teeth and claws bared at the screen, his pudgy tail twitching with agitation. The three-year-old cub straightened up and retracted his claws. "Nothing."

The Andorian's antennae dipped down at him. "Whatever it is doing wrong, I doubt if it will be intimidated by your display of aggression. Now tell me what has it done to deserve this display?"

"Nothing!" he snapped.

Shyrik folded her arms. "You lie. I will summon your mother or father to deal with you-"3333

"NO!"

Shyrik learned in closer, fixing a steely glare on him. "I beg your pardon?"

Misha stuck out a defiant chin and replied, "No... thank you!"

She straightened up again, hiding her amusement at how similar toddlers of all races were. "So, what did the computer do to upset you? Were you looking to play a game instead of learning your lessons?"

"It won't tell me things!"

"That seems strange behaviour for such a machine. What things did you want to know?"

"New Dish Tracks!"

It took a moment for Shyrik to decipher the answer. "Neurodystraxia. The genetic condition diagnosed for your unborn sister." She understood, having been present when Kami Hrelle had the diagnosis confirmed days ago, and knew that the Counselor and the Captain would of course talk to their son about it. "And what did you want to know?"

"I want to fix Sreen's New Dish Tracks!" he exclaimed, as if stating the obvious.

Shyrik regarded him, and dropped to one knee. Her own people were very pragmatic about illness and injury, and to non-Andorians this attitude came across as unsympathetic, even harsh. But that did not mean she had to offer such a response to everyone. especially not this one. "You can't fix her. No one can, not without causing Sreen a great deal of pain. Your parents won't do that to her."

He stabbed an accusatory finger at her. "You fix people! Doc Cowboy fixes people! Doc Klingon fixes people! You all fix!"

"Yes," she agreed softly. "We do. But we don't fix everyone. We can't fix everyone. Sometimes people have problems that can't be fixed, not easily, if ever."

"No?"

"No."

His expression changed, and the anger and defiance he was displaying seconds before now melted into a heartbreaking vulnerability. "I'm her big brother. Wanna help her."

Shyrik reached out and brushed back the truculent tufts of fur on the top of the toddler's head, and her voice was gentle and reassuring. "Of course you do. And you can help her -- by helping your parents now, and when Sreen is born, by being there for her when she learns to do things, and needs her big brother's help. Do you understand?"

He grunted, pouting.

She straightened up again. "Will a snack in the Mess Hall help your understanding?"

Misha still pouted... but nodded.

Shyrik took his hand and led him out, as Masterson walked by. "Hey, what's up with the Lil' Critter?"

"Hmm?" Shyrik's antenna rose. "Oh, this one. He's an overindulged brat who's disturbing my work, so I'm taking him somewhere to shut him up for a while. Do you have a problem with that?"

The human held up his hands. "Me? No. Just be back for our meeting with Commander T'Varik later. And..." He nodded to Misha. "Try to be nice to him, okay?"

She sneered at Masterson as she led the cub out. "You weak-spined races coddle your young too much! You won't see such sentimental indulgence from Andorians!"

*

"USS Surefoot-A, Captain's Log, Stardate 50596.53, Captain Esek Hrelle, Commanding: our ship has left Sherman's Planet with the rest of the Thirteenth Fleet, for a stopover at Deep Space Station K7, for resupply and retrofit prior to our new assignment in the war against the Dominion. K7's limited facilities and the needs of the Fleet mean that we will be stationed here for at least a week, but that doesn't bother me. Not only am I in no hurry to rush off back into war following our hostilities with the Klingons, but we have a more enjoyable task ahead of us here to occupy our time."

*

Deck 2 Fore -- Transporter Room 1:

Hrelle rocked back and forth, fidgeting in place, until his wife, Counselor Kami Hrelle, standing beside him, glanced in his direction. "Stop that, it looks like you've got worms."

Standing between his parents, dressed like them in a minikin version of a Starfleet uniform, Misha frowned. "Papa's got worms?" He looked to his mother. "Is he sick? Has he got worms up his bum?"

"No, I don't have worms up my bum, Cub of Mine." When Chief Engineer Grev, standing by the transporter console, chuckled, until Hrelle shot him a dirty look. "Energise already, Chief."

The Tellarite complied, and as twin columns of energy appeared on the pads before him, Hrelle felt tempted to rush up and have his arms already around the coalescing forms, before accepting that the transporter safety controls would simply abort the process. So he tensed until the cycle was complete, producing a tall, slim, silver-haired human male and a shorter, more muscular Bolian female, and he raced up to envelop them both in his arms. "MY CUBS! MY CUBS ARE BACK!"

The breath shot out of Lieutenant Jonas Ostrow and Ensign Neraxis Nemm, and they looked pleadingly over the shoulders of their former Captain, prompting Kami to chide, "That's enough, Papa Cat, or they'll be having their wedding in Sickbay." As her husband reluctantly obeyed, she moved in for hugs of her own. "It's wonderful to see you back here again! And on such a lovely occasion!"

"Thanks, Counselor." Neraxis beamed as she swept Misha up in her arms. "And look at you, Ickle Baby! It used to be that you were so small I could keep you in my pocket! And now you're big enough to join Starfleet!"

"I am!" Misha agreed with enthusiastic nods, looking to his mother. "See? Ner-Ner says I can join!"

Kami looked less than fervent at the prospect, however. "Ask me after you stop getting your tail caught in doors." She looked to Grev. "Well, Chief? Have you missed your young protégé?"

The porcine Chief wrinkled his blunt snout. "As much as I miss a dose of fleas."

Jonas smirked and approached. "Don't be mean to fleas, they're probably your only friends." Then he laughed and clasped hands with his former superior. "It's good to see you again, Chief. You should have seen the Dragonheart's Engine Room when I arrived, it was like it was being run by Pakleds."

"Oh, I can imagine! And the stench-"

"Like a zerteth pelt left in the sun too long! And their warp efficiency was only 84%!"

"What? Pathetic! Even an incompetent pup like you could do better!"

"Before this descends into more Tellarite Banter," Hrelle interrupted, looking to each of the new arrivals in turn. "I wanted to say thank you both for considering the Surefoot as a place to have your wedding. Though I'm surprised that you're not having it onboard the Dragonheart. I wouldn't want Captain Nguyen to feel slighted."

"Actually, Sir, he's relieved," Jonas informed him. "I don't think he likes weddings."

"What? Who doesn't like weddings?"

"Someone who's been married four times," Neraxis quipped. "Jonas' mother and my family will be here later, Captain, arriving on schedule."

"No problem, Ensign, we have the guest quarters ready -- and we're posting extra Security everywhere to deal with your siblings."

Still in Neraxis' arms, Misha gasped, eyes widening. "Lazy's coming?"

Neraxis grinned. "Yes, Alazea's coming. She says she's looking forward to seeing you again."

Jonas chuckled. "We might have to make it a double wedding."

The cub beamed at the prospect. "DOUBLE WEDDING! I MARRY LAZY!"

As they walked down the corridor to the guest quarters, Hrelle noted, "The rest of the old Alpha Squad is planning on meeting you over on K7 at 1200 Hours. Your Best Man won't have much time to prepare the Bachelor Party, but we'll accommodate as best we can." The Caitian made a sound of clearing his throat. "So, uh, who's gonna be your Best Man, Jonas?"

"Well, Sir, but I haven't had the chance to ask her in person yet-"

"'Her'?"

Kami nudged her husband. "Yes, Esek; 'Best Man' is a bit of an archaic term. You've been watching too many old Terran vivids."

Hrelle grunted, but then brightened again. "Of course! You'll need someone to officiate the ceremony! Someone of Command rank-"

"Yes, Sir," Jonas agreed. "That's why we asked Captain Weynik to come over for that. He was delighted to do so."

Between his parents again, Misha looked at his father's drooping tail and frowned. "Why Papa sad?"

The younger couple stopped, grinned at each other and turned to face the older couple, Neraxis looking to Hrelle. "Actually, Captain, I was hoping that you would stand in for my late father, and give me away."

The disappointment on Hrelle's face melted away like ice in a supernova. "Me? Be Father of the Bride? Why, I'd be honoured! Privileged! Delighted!"

"I should warn you, he'll be blubbering before you get to your vows," Kami noted dryly.

Beside him, Misha stepped away to avoid his father's Happy Tail smacking him.

"And maybe Misha can be the Ring Bearer?" Jonas suggested, smiling.

"Yeah! Me!" the cub agreed, before asking, "What's a Ring Bear?"

"Sorry, Hon," Hrelle said to his wife jokingly. "Maybe they can find something for you to do when their firstborn comes along?"

Kami almost joined in on the banter -- until she saw the slight shift in expressions on the young couple at the mention of children.

*

Deck 2 Fore -- Officers' Mess Hall:

"This is pointless."

Sitting together on their own at one of the smaller tables, Chief of Security Lt C'Rash Shall looked up from her fruit bowl to regard the skewer in her lover's hand. "Looks sharp to me."

Across from her, First Officer Commander T'Varik set down her eating utensil and raised an eyebrow in typical Vulcan fashion. "Your frivolity is matched only by your stubbornness."

C'Rash forwent her fork to spear the assorted chunks of fruit before her with a foreclaw. "I have never been called stubborn."

"Your memory remains as selective as always; I myself have employed it to describe you on twelve separate occasions. I proposed marriage to you 6.83 days ago. You have refused to provide an appropriate response."

The coal-furred Caitian popped a pineapple chunk into her mouth, chewed, swallowed, and finally replied, "I am... mulling it over. It's an important decision, not one to be made lightly."

"9,835.2 minutes is more than sufficient time to provide an answer. I must speculate that your refusal to provide one is a deliberate act, designed to satisfy a sense of perverse pleasure."

"Me? Never! I'm reflecting on the pros and cons."

"I see. And might I enquire as to the current progress of your alleged deliberations?"

The Caitian flicked the red cherry on her claw into her mouth. "Of course. I... want to say Yes."

T'Varik relaxed.

"And I want to say No."

"You vex me."

"I'm sorry," C'Rash offered, not sounding too convincing. "I'm a creature of simultaneous contradictions."

"It is not possible to be of two equal but contradictory states."

"Haven't you studied quantum physics? I'm like... ‎Schrödinger's Cat."

"You are not ‎Schrödinger's Cat," T'Varik informed her archly -- reaching out and taking the other female's hand in her own. "You are mine."

C'Rash purred. "Keep talking like that-"

"Commander! Lieutenant!"

The senior officers quickly withdrew their handholding and rose as one at the approach of Jonas, C'Rash quipping, "I thought I'd picked up the scent of Squab in here."

"Your olfactoral sense is as inappropriate as your sense of humour," T'Varik informed her, nodding at Jonas. "He is at best Seasoned Squab." She held out her hand for him. "Lieutenant Ostrow, a pleasure as always."

Jonas started at the unexpected level of personal contact offered by the Vulcan, before quickly accepting the hand. "Thank you, Commander. It's great to be back."

"And on such an auspicious occasion. I expect a commensurate level of anxiety on your part."

The young man smirked. "More impatience to get it over and done with than anxiety, Ma'am."

T'Varik nodded. "Well, if we can assist you in any way with the ceremony, we are at your disposal."

Jonas smiled, but flushed in a way that T'Varik recognised. "Well, I don't want to bother you while you're having breakfast-"

"It is no bother. We are done." T'Varik turned and removed C'Rash's tray and her own, ignoring the Caitian's growl as the trays were set in the adjacent recyclers. "Please, continue."

Jonas nodded, still standing somewhat formally as he complied. "Well, Commander, we've, uh, been rushing so much to set a date, arranging for our families to show up, getting the rest of Alpha Squad leave, fulfilling the appropriate legal requirements, that some minor details -- well, major, really -- were bound to be overlooked, and there, ah- I'm waffling here, aren't I?"

"Yes. And as I have had my breakfast, I have no room for waffles."

Jonas almost gasped for a heartbeat at the overt humour from the Vulcan, before recovering. "Yes. I need a Best Person for the ceremony. And, ah, I immediately thought of you."

C'Rash smirked. "Don't you want one of your old Alpha Squad to do that? You know, someone... younger?"

Jonas reacted, not wanting to offer a response to the obvious barb from the Caitian towards her lover. "I... had considered one of them, but I can't choose one and not insult the others, and I don't know anyone well enough on the Dragonheart to ask them- of course, you don't have to accept, I'll understand if you think it would be inappropriate-"

"I would be honoured."

He beamed. "You would? Thank you, Commander! Really! We're keeping things simple and basic, you don't have to do anything other than just stand by me during the ceremony-"

"I am familiar with the duties and responsibilities of the role in Standard Weddings, Jonas, including organising your Bachelor Party. I can easily manage this... otherwise I could hardly claim the adjective of Best."

"A Bachelor Party organised by a Vulcan," C'Rash joked, crossing her arms. "I can't wait to see one of those."

*

Deck 3 Mid -- Sickbay:

Eydiir Daughter-of-Kaas peered at the diamond ring on Neraxis' finger. "The stone is too small."

Neraxis pulled her hand away. "What are you talking about? It's the perfect size!"

"It would not make an effective weapon. You would have to exert considerable effort to pierce the carotid artery of most races while wearing it."

The Bolian crossed her arms. "Damn, I knew I should have asked about its killing potential when we saw it in the shop on Sherman's Planet."

"I understand there are also gowns involved in the nuptials. Have you one prepared?"

Neraxis grimaced. "Me, in a wedding dress? You might as well put a targ in a tutu."

"I disagree," Kami opined, stepping into Sickbay and smiling. "And Eydiir and I and the others intend to prove it to you later."

Eydiir straightened up. "Counselor, is there any medical problem?"

"No, I was going to have a lie down in my quarters, I'm feeling a little fatigued, and when I heard Neraxis' voice, I thought I could lean on her."

The Bolian smiled and nodded. "Of course, Counselor." She shot Eydiir a final look. "We'll get lunch later on K7 when the others arrive. And no more talk of wedding dresses, or I'll kick your ass back to your Ten Tribes."

Outside, Kami slipped an arm around Neraxis'. "Thank you for this, Hon, I don't-"

But the Ensign laughed. "You can drop the act, Counselor."

"Act?"

"I was under your supervision long enough to know this old trick: 'Ooh, poor frail pregnant me, could you help, please? Let me lean on you? And while you're at it, can you let your guard down as well so we can talk about your problems and feelings'?"

The Caitian harrumphed. "Am I that obvious? Well, after Sreen I won't be able to pull off this particular 'trick' again, so indulge me." She guided her into the quarters she shared with her husband and son. "Have a seat. You still like that Bolian pepper tea?"

"Yes, but you don't have to have any yourself."

"Thanks; I'm feeling particularly sensitive at this point in the pregnancy." She returned with two steaming mugs and set them on the adjacent table, before taking a position opposite Neraxis. "And speaking of pregnancy: since you're wise to all my tricks, I can cut straight to it: you and Jonas reacted in a certain way when Esek mentioned children. When we were all together at Christmas, you had more positive feedback. Now, neither of you are under my care anymore, you don't have to talk about it, you can always leave a poor old woman feeling unwanted and useless and-"

"I can tell you're a mother," Neraxis smirked, shifting in place, before reaching for her tea, without drinking any of it, but instead looking into the contents of the mug. "Jonas and I found out three weeks ago from the Dragonheart's CMO, while we were going through the pre-nuptial checks... there are too many genetic divergences between Bolians and Terrans for us to have children together, even with medical assistance from Geno-Obstetrics."

Kami drew in closer, taking the young woman's big blue hand in her own. "I'm sorry for you both, Neraxis. To be honest, I half-expected to hear something like that, when I first counseled Jonas on the safe sex techniques he needed to employ to be with you and not be affected by your biochemistry."

Neraxis nodded soberly. "He has a compensatory bio-implant in him now, so he doesn't need condoms or shields anymore. I... had hoped that they could come up with something to help with conception, but..."

Kami tightened her touch on the Bolian's hand, picking up reactions that made her ask, "You... weren't all that upset about it when you heard."

Neraxis looked up again. "No. To be honest, I was relieved! I don't want kids now! I want to focus on my career! And really, I don't know if I ever want kids! Is that bad?"

"Not at all. It's your choice, not a requirement of any relationship that offspring are considered, and of course, if you change your mind later, there are many alternatives: surrogacy, adoption-" She paused and frowned. "It's Jonas you're worried about, isn't it?"

The young Ensign breathed in. "After the doctor broke the bad news to us, we talked about it, agreed that it was disappointing, but decided to put it aside and carry on.

But... he grew up an only child, but he always talked about missing having a big family around him. I thought that when he first met my family, and was overwhelmed by them, that he would forget about it. But he embraced them... literally! He loved the chaos, and joked about it training himself up for when we have six or seven of our own!

But now... knowing how much he wants a family, knowing how difficult if not impossible it will be for us, I..." Her blue skin darkened, and her eyes welled up. "I don't want him marrying me and having second thoughts later. I- I-"

Kami reached out, took the mug from the younger woman's hand and set it aside, and hugged her. "It's going to be okay. But you need to be prepared to be tested. Situations change, people change, so relationships change. We can all be tested."

Surefoot
Surefoot
205 Followers