Surefoot 46: Mr and Mrs Ostrow

The Grazerite cadet blanched, "But-But, Neheru-"

Now the Kelpien looked to her, his flat, noseless, tangerine-coloured face creasing. "Oh, are we on an informal basis now, Cadet? Shall I delay your launch even longer?" He raised a slender, bony finger towards her. "One more word, and I will." Then his finger was joined by the rest, making a shooing gesture. "Scoot, now!"

Hrelle chuckled, then caught a scent from behind him, turning to see Zir Dassene and the rest of the new Alpha Squad approach, the Orion girl having caught the tail end of the exchange between Jexa and Neheru, and frowning. "Excuse me, Sir, but is Lt Neheru okay? He doesn't seem... himself."

"He's... gone through some recent changes," Hrelle admitted. "He may not be quite the same individual that he was in the past. But then, who of us is?" He looked to the group. "Ready? I think you'll enjoy this field trip. Donatu V has been almost as strategically and historically important in this sector as Sherman's Planet."

Zir nodded, but her expression and scent indicated doubt, her subsequent words confirming it. "I still don't feel right about our going, Sir. We're needed here."

"Not this week, you're not, not while we're berthed here awaiting our turn for resupply and upgrades. And yes, you've more than proved your worth as members of this ship and crew, but you're still cadets, and field trips like this are part and parcel of your education. Besides..." His own expression sobered. "I don't know how many more opportunities like this that there'll be in the future."

"Alpha Squad!" Neheru shouted towards them. "Your runabout is scheduled to leave in two minutes! Get your asses in gear!"

Hrelle laughed again. "Better get going."

"Yes, Sir," Zir replied, the rest of them nodding and making sounds of farewell to the Captain as they proceeded quickly to their vessel.

Hrelle looked to Neheru, advising, "We need these cadets, Lieutenant, try not to bite any of their heads off."

"No promises, Sir!" he replied, loudly enough for the surrounding cadets to hear and react.

Hrelle departed, needing to prepare for the Bachelor Party tonight. And for his little buddy Weynik to come over.

*

K7 Port Terminal:

"Jonas!"

He beamed. "Mom!" He dodged around the throngs of passengers embarking and disembarking through the various gates of the station's Port Terminal, and embraced his mother. "I'm so glad you made it!"

The short, stocky, silver-haired figure of Helga Ostrow hugged him back. "So am I, my darling boy! And soon to be a married man, too!" She drew back, clasping her strong, callused hands on his face to admire him. "You're too thin, though! Ner-Ner needs to get you fed up! Put some more meat on you!" She turned to her left. "Isn't that right, Gagarn?"

Jonas looked as well, frowning, but then smiling with recognition. "Gagarn! You came along with my Mom!"

The portly Tellarite male with greying fur and a smart brown civilian suit drew up to mother and son, his short porcine snout wrinkling. "Still the master of the obvious, I see. Good thing you're getting married, then you'll have someone around full time to tell you that space is vast and antimatter is dangerous." He offered his hoof.

Jonas took it, surprised but pleased to see the foreman of Mom's salvage company had been willing to come and witness the wedding. Jonas had known him all of his life, had lived and learned under him, and in fact Jonas had seen him as a father figure almost as much as Captain Hrelle. "Well, maybe we can find someone gullible enough to marry you, so you can stop buying Shiprot-infested salvage!"

Then he saw his mother and Gagarn exchange glances, before Mom announced, "Actually, he already found someone."

"Uh... excuse me?"

Mom took the Tellarite's hoof in her own now. "We didn't want to say anything, and overshadow your own blessed event with Neraxis, but... Gagarn proposed to me a month ago, and we used this trip from the Hyralin Sector to get married onboard the transport, and make a honeymoon of it." She pursed her lips. "Are you okay with it?"

Jonas didn't respond immediately, looking between the two of them. They had never shown any romantic feelings towards each other, at least not when he was around, but then it had been a long while since he'd been home. How long had it been going on? Had they been intimate before he'd even left for the Academy? He couldn't recall.

Gagarn was a good man, he knew that. But- But-

But nothing. Jonas stuck out his chin and snarled at the Tellarite, "You took your time, after all these years, you lazy, good-for-nothing khrught! I hope someone gave you a map and instruction booklet for the Wedding Night!"

Gagarn's beady black eyes welled up with tears of relief as he embraced the young man. "Thank you!"

*

At another point in the Terminal, Neraxis rocked nervously, as C'Rash glanced at her with amusement. "Relax. It's not like she's gonna disapprove of him at this stage- she doesn't, does she?"

Neraxis snorted. "Holy Hraxor, no! Mom thinks all the Galaxy's suns shine out of his ass! No, I'm just nervous that tomorrow is finally coming. And..."

"And what?"

The Bolian's blueberry skin darkened. "And that I'll be wearing a fricking dress. Kami somehow talked me out of wearing my uniform."

C'Rash laughed. "Yeah, never let Aunt Kami get you alone, she'll work her mojo on you."

"And you, too. Thanks for being my Maid of Honour."

The Caitian shrugged. "I'm only in it to do the Bachelorette Party. If my Other Half is taking care of your husband-to-be-" She paused, her ears twitching. "I hear your brood approaching."

Neraxis looked out in time to see the crowds part like curtains to reveal a quartet of blue faces as they approached C'Rash and her, the largest of them crushing Neraxis in a bear hug. "My beautiful Ner-Ner! I can't believe this blessed event has finally arrived! I can't believe it!" Then Xeriti Nemm began crying against her daughter's shoulders.

Neraxis rolled her eyes and looked past her mother at the twin teenage girls with prominent ridges bisecting their bald heads. "Hi, Kenoxena, hi, Oshexis! Thanks for coming along!"

The girls looked at each other, sneered with undisguised disdain, and otherwise said nothing.

C'Rash watched the domestic scene with some amusement, until she felt a tiny hand tugging on her tail, and she glanced down to see a small six-year-old Bolian girl looking up with wide violet eyes. "You're... Alazea, aren't you?"

The girl pointed up at C'Rash's chest and declared loudly, "YOU HAVE FURRY BOOBIES!"

C'Rash grunted. "Yeah, you're Alazea..."

*

USS Surefoot, Deck 2 Fore -- Officer's Lounge:

Kami felt the warmth and genuine affection from the other two mothers as they entered the Officer's Rec Lounge and greeted her, Helga Ostrow and Xeriti Nemm as friendly and genuine now as when Kami had last met them. It only occurred to her just now how infrequent it was that met other women of similar age and experience, being out here in Starfleet.

The three women settled down at a table as Misha and Alazea began running around the tables chasing each other, and Kami looked up at the teenage twin girls, whose names Kami couldn't recall. "You two are free to go back and visit K7, you've been cleared for access through our airlock, just out the door, down the left and around the corner."

"Well?" their mother prompted. "You can thank the Counselor."

The girls looked to each other, rolled their eyes and walked out.

"Sorry about that," Xeriti said to Kami. "They're just- well-"

"Teenage girls?" Kami smirked. "Well, I was never like that at that age."

"Me neither," Helga added sagely. "I was a perfect angel to my mother and her friends."

"Same here," Xeriti added. "Always well behaved, quiet, respectful..."

They looked to each other. And then broke down into laughter.

"Well," Helga declared, wiping her eyes, "I can't complain about having any problems with Jonas when he was growing up."

Kami nodded. "He's wonderful. He's become such a man."

Xeriti grinned. "My Ner-Ner is sick of hearing me go on about how lucky she is to have him. I really must continue doing that."

Kami laughed again. "I know it's a fallacy that boys are easier to raise than girls, but I can't recall any problems with my first son Mirow... but then that was-" She paused, frowning in thought before shaking her head. "More years than I care to count now. Still, it has to be easier, hasn't it?"

The three women turned as Misha and Alazea approached, hand in hand, Misha declaring, "Lazy's having all my cubs!"

Kami rolled her eyes. "Then again..."

*

Deck 2 Aft -- Transporter Room 3:

Captain Weynik materialised and stepped down from the platform, dressed in a smart tailored burgundy suit, his eyestalks scanning Hrelle's choice of a Hawaiian shirt and baggy Bermuda shorts. "Nice outfit, Jumbo. You won't get any lap dancers working on you in that, no matter how creative the Holodeck programming."

"For which I'll be grateful, Fun Size. My only intended vices tonight are food and drink."

The Roylan smirked as they emerged into the corridor. "Oh come on, Brother, are you telling me that you can't be tempted by a luscious collection of photon and force fields grinding her-"

"I'm telling you that Kami and I are bonded for life. And no woman, real or holographic, can ever compare to her."

Weynik grunted. "You're annoying when you're enviably content and happy, did you know that?"

"So I've been told."

"Well, then, I'll have to make up for your blissful serenity by being an undeniable cad." He reached out and patted Hrelle on the back. "I am happy for you, Esek."

"Thanks, Weynik." Hrelle smiled as they turned the corner to see T'Varik, Jonas and the rest of the party outside of Holodeck 1, and was about to greet them all... when they all started laughing in his direction. He stopped and frowned, looking behind him but seeing nothing. "What? What is it, my shirt?"

T'Varik stepped around the men and strode up to him, reaching behind him and removing a small holoprojector unit attached to the back of him, holding it up to display what it had been projecting unbeknownst to him over his head: an arrow pointing down at him, declaring him to be CAPTAIN MEATBALL.

T'Varik switched off the projector and handed it to Weynik. "Yours I believe, Captain?"

The Roylan chuckled and pocketed it. "Ah, I thought I'd lost that."

Hrelle grunted and looked to the rest of the group: Jonas, Rrori, Kit -- Giles! What a surprise! -- Neheru, Grev, Doctors Masterson and Kline, several of the Surefoot Engineering and Security crewmen... and a Tellarite male he didn't recognise, prompting him to ask, "And whose this then?"

Jonas beamed as he drew the two men together. "Captain, this is my... stepfather now, apparently, Gagarn. Gagarn, this is Captain Hrelle, I've written to you about him enough."

Gagarn snorted, his snout wrinkling. "Good, good, every Bachelor Party needs a designated Loud Fat Guy."

Weynik nudged Hrelle. "He's quite perceptive, Chunky."

Then the Tellarite turned to him, adding, "And the Loud Fat Guy's Short Ugly Best Friend."

Hrelle nudged him back. "I think you're right, Inch High." He took Gagarn's hoof. "I'm genuinely glad to meet you, Sir. Now I can better appreciate Jonas' struggle to achieve greatness despite your influence."

Gagarn chuckled. "Well said, Captain!"

"Now that we have all formally assembled," T'Varik announced, "We may proceed-"

"YEEOW!"

All eyes turned to Weynik, who was hopping about on one foot, the other one smouldering. Meanwhile Hrelle stood nearby, attempting to look innocent.

"As I was saying," the Vulcan woman continued. "We may commence the festivities." She turned to the Holodeck door, asking, "Is Program T'Varik Six ready?"

"Program T'Varik Six is ready," the computer responded, "You may enter."

She nodded and stepped forward as the doors parted, as the others followed.

Hrelle brought up the rear, breathing in the hot, thin, dry air... and frowned. The cloudless, blood-red sky, the surrounding craggy mountain range and the stark stone architecture more closely surrounding them, told him they were on a representation of some place on Vulcan, in the wide, empty courtyard of a temple or museum.

His guess was confirmed as T'Varik addressed the bemused group. "This is the Temple of Shen Anagans on Vulcan. It is a favoured spot for Vulcan husbands-to-be and their relatives and associates to visit prior to the ceremony.

Here, you are encouraged to sit and meditate silently, without the distraction of talk, music, food or drink, and contemplate marriage and relationships."

The group members looked to each other, prompting Jonas to ask warily, "I... see, Commander. Uh, and how long do we, uh, sit around and contemplate?"

"Vulcans will typically spend several days in the same position. But we can make allowances for yourselves and the time factor, and reduce this to twelve hours."

"Twelve... hours?"

Hrelle started at the scene, feeling thoroughly sorry for Jonas and readying himself to intervene... when he studied the expression on T'Varik's face, seeing the subtle shifts only noticeable to him... and he laughed aloud.

Jonas looked to his former Captain, and then back at T'Varik, who raised an eyebrow and announced, "Gotcha."

At the sound of the code word, immediately the Vulcan monastery and the surrounding environment vanished, replaced by a darker, noisier, crowded place: a long, wide street lined with bars and clubs, lit up with old fashioned street lamps. A cacophony of music, mostly jazz and blues, filled the hot, thick night air, as did a variety of scents of food.

"Fellow revellers," she said, speaking over the noise. "Welcome to Bourbon Street, New Orleans on Earth, renowned for its historic attractions and bacchanalian delights. We will engage in the tradition of a Bar Crawl. Needless to say, the food and drinks-" She paused as two scantily-clad holographic women drew up on either side of her and began dancing sensuously close, provoking only a raised eyebrow from the Vulcan. "-And other delights, are all on me."

The group cheered, Weynik leaning in close to Hrelle and noting, "I never thought she had such a wicked sense of humour! Have you been putting shuris spices in her plomeek soup?"

He regarded the Vulcan as she led Jonas towards the nearest of the bars. "She's... evolving. Like the rest of us." He looked down at Weynik. "You could try evolving some height-" Suddenly the Caitian was jumping around and cursing, as an electrical charge raced through him from the base of his tail, and he had to force himself to keep still long enough to reach behind him and remove the Buzzer clamp, holding it up as Weynik leaned against a streetlamp and laughed until his sides ached.

Hrelle tossed aside the Buzzer. "Do I have to do a cavity search on you for any more practical jokes? Or do you think we can call a truce for tonight for the sake of Jonas?"

Weynik seemed to listen to him, straightening up, approaching and holding out his hand. "Truce then, Wide Load."

Hrelle held out his own hand.

Both of them stopped until they showed there was nothing in their hands, before shaking.

Then they caught up with the rest of the party... Weynik never noticing Hrelle sprinkling clothes-destroying Nanites onto the back of the Roylan's jacket.

*

In Holodeck 2, currently in the midst of a recreation of a Risan party hall, C'Rash leaned in closer to Neraxis and assured her, "Don't worry, what happens on the Holodeck stays on the Holodeck."

The Bolian never responded, too busy was she blushing violet as a beefy, scantily-clad holographic dancer worked his magic while she sat in her chair, and the rest of her Bachelorette party cheered her on, or danced to the raucous music, or went for more drinks, or had lap dancers of their own.

C'Rash patted Neraxis on the shoulder and stepped away, inspecting the rest of the party to make sure everyone was okay. And they appeared to be: even Eydiir, normally as dour as a Klingon with constipation, cracked a smile or two as she chatted with others. And the mothers of the bride and groom were showing the younger set how to have a good time! If T'Varik was here-

She ground her teeth. Damn that woman-

"Hey, Cousin."

She turned, having caught the familiar scent. "Hey, Tailless, having fun?"

Sasha nodded, holding up a beer bottle in illustration. "Doing my best." Then he pulled at her T-shirt. "Bit hot in here, though."

C'Rash nodded back. "Deliberately so. It'll encourage everyone to go swimming in the pool later." She paused and looked out to see Velkovsky whooping and hollering as she ground against her holographic partner on the dancefloor. "Some of us need less encouragement than others." She looked back at Sasha. "I never dropped you a message to see how you were after that business with the Klingons on the Ajax. Hell of a first day for you, Second Officer."

Sasha shrugged, though C'Rash could sense how much of it was a forced nonchalance. "I'll never look at a baked potato the same way again."

C'Rash snatched a beer bottle from the tray of a passing attendant, and clinked it against Sasha's. "So, I heard you have a boyfriend."

Sasha rolled her eyes. "Go on, let's hear the jokes."

"Jokes?"

"Yeah, he's a big slab of beefcake, so everyone has been ribbing me about him: Hey, Sash, I heard you got hold of his Beanstalk... Hey, Sash, I heard you need high altitude breathing equipment to climb up and kiss him-"

The Caitian drank before responding, looking away. "I'm in no position to be kidding anyone else about their romance."

Sasha caught her eye again. "Is everything alright between you and T'Varik?"

C'Rash bristled... but relented and replied, "After the business with the Striga, she asked me to marry her."

Sasha's eyes saucered. "Did you say Yes?"

"No."

"You didn't say No, though?"

"No." She drank again. "I love her. I love her so much. We join minds and it's like we become One. I feel that love she has for me. I become that Love.

But still, it's such a big step. You don't understand, it's... frightening, Tailless."

"Yeah." Sasha drank too. "So is almost getting burned alive in a firestorm of your own creation. Or getting beaten to death by a Vlathi. Or suffocating in a decompressed cargo bay-"

C'Rash looked to her, not realising how much those past events might be accumulating in her human cousin. "Sash-"

But the young woman didn't stop. "I know you're a couple of years older than me and have been in Starfleet longer, but I've seen you grow and mature -- a lot -- since we first met on Cait. And I think a great deal of that has been because of T'Varik. I know I haven't been around much, but you seem happier now, more confident and content."

"Are you taking over as Counselor when Kami pops out your baby sister?"

Sasha ignored the jibe. "Cousin, I know 'Carpe Diem' is a cliche, but there's a reason it's still around. But hey, it's your choice, what do I know? Do what you want."

C'Rash smirked. "Now you definitely sound like Aunt Kami." But she grew quiet as she finished her beer.

*

In Holodeck 1, Giles, Rrori and Kit sat together, watching as Jonas arm wrestled with a thoroughly-drunken Kline, the young human leaning forward and struggling, but remaining defiant, snarling and cursing.

"Best Friend Jonas' right arm will be aching in the morning," Kit noted.

Giles paused, looked to Rrori and quipped, "This is the point where you're supposed to make a dirty joke about him not needing his right arm, Meow."