Surefoot 47: The Nanny State

Hrelle sighed, wondering how much of what the other male was saying was some sort of balm against his obvious hurt earlier at his son’s inadvertent dismissal. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself, not just with mine, but others we’ve seen on the Vivids Ma’Sala sent us. Have you always wanted to be a paediatrician?”

Furore made an amused sound. “Seven Hells, yes, ever since I was a cub myself, patching up the kinked tails and scraped knees of my siblings and cousins at Clan Gatherings. There’s something about being able to help a cub in distress, to defend them against the pain and illness they’re facing. Being a nanny seemed a natural extension of that.”

“I’m surprised you don’t have cubs of your own.”

Hrelle sensed a shift in mood from the other male, before the easy-going persona returned. “Ahh, but if I did, Esek, I wouldn’t have the pleasure of meeting beauties such as My Lady here.” He collected the bottle and bib from his chair. “Settle her down when she’s burped; I have a monitor of my own in here, and if either of them wakes up, I’ll take care of them. You’ve had a long day of it, and you need your rest, too. Good night, Esek.”

Hrelle regarded the figure in the dark, wishing he could see more to gauge the other male’s expression now. “Good night, Jhess. And... thank you for coming. We’re lucky to have you here.”

Now Furore made an amused sound. “I’m the lucky one. Good night.” He departed, his door sliding shut.

Hrelle stood there, still gently rocking and patting his daughter, until a tiny belch emerged, and he wiped her muzzle and settled her down in her crib.

*

It was the following day, and an hour before the rendezvous with the Azimech, when Hrelle decided to grab something to eat and see his family. He heard the music and commotion in the Crew’s Mess Hall, and entered, staying near the door so as to not attract attention.

Most of the off-duty crew was sitting around the tables, food ignored, laughing and whooping as Furore and Doc Masterson sat on stools near the replicators, jamming on their respective acoustic frettercast and guitar, some lively mish-mash of Terran Spanish Classical and Caitian ballad, while Misha danced nearby.

All three took a bow while the cadets applauded. Hrelle felt his hackles rising again.

*

He found Kami in her office with their daughter. He moved up to Sreen, lying in her chair, reaching out for her. “Come here, Sweetheart-”

Kami was at her desk, working on something on her PADD, but looked up at him. “Leave her, I’ve only just got her to sleep.”

He squatted beside the chair. “I want to cuddle her!”

“Cuddle later.”

“But I’ll have to be back on the Bridge with T’Varik later!”

Kami shrugged. “You can always cuddle her instead. What’s bothering you?”

“Jhess was playing music in the Mess Hall with Zeke. And he was letting Misha jump around like a performing monkey!”

“Yes, because our cub never likes jumping around, being the centre of attention.”

“He’s the Captain’s son! There’s a question of maintaining dignity!”

“Says the man who once interrupted a staff meeting to finish a chicken drumstick he found in the pocket of his jacket.”

Hrelle bristled; that was a good piece of chicken... “I suppose I should be grateful that at least for once he wasn’t singing. I never knew anyone outside of a musical vivid who sang as much as he does.”

“Yeah, he’s just the worst.”

“Well, someone needs to tell Doctor Fabulous that Misha needs more than just fun. I bet he hasn’t mentioned anything about the cub’s education, has he?”

Kami stopped, put down her PADD, picked up another on her desk and handed it to him. “Here you go: Jhess has already run an assessment on Misha’s current academic strengths and weaknesses, and provided a detailed curriculum of the lessons planned for him over the coming year to help him not only meet, but exceed the standards expected for Caitian cubs his age. Of which musical skills, by the way, will be part of it. Prepare for many boring recital nights on the frettercast or strummer.”

He took the PADD, had a quick check through some of it, before setting it down again and sitting opposite her. He stunned himself with how quickly he had forgotten warming up to the younger male last night, only to turn cold again just now. “I’m being stupid, aren’t I?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, but the answer is probably Yes.”

“Well, it may interest you to know that I stopped by Sickbay before I came to bed last night and took some suppressants.”

“Suppressants?”

He nodded. “To deal with your pheromones making me protective and aggressive towards a strange male in our midst.”

Kami set down her PADD again and regarded him. “Esek... I’ve been taking suppressants since the birth. I haven’t been producing those pheromones.”

He blinked. “No?”

“No.” She reached out and took his hand in hers, squeezing. “I’m afraid to have to tell you that you have no biochemical excuse for acting like a Big Growling Male. You just don’t like that there’ll be another influential Caitian male in Misha’s daily life, and you no longer hold that monopoly. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you two will get along... or rather, the sooner you’ll get along with him. You two should go bond.”

“Bond?”

“Yes. Go talk to him, play some games, have beers, work out, share stories about the adventures you’ve had with your penises-”

“You have no idea what males do together, do you?”

She smirked. “I probably know a shipload more than you, Husband of Mine.”

He grunted, but as he rose and departed thought She’s probably right.

*

The Caitian on the desk viewscreen in C’Rash’s office looked like he hadn’t had his first Season; his russet-coloured fur was offset by the black and red Militia uniform he wore, though C’Rash couldn’t quite get the image out of her head that he was dressing up in one of his parent’s clothes.

But C’Rash was surprised by more than just his youth, as he spoke to her. “Lt Shall, is it? How may I help you?”

She recovered quickly. “Forgive me, Lieutenant, I was looking to contact the Records Office of Mlell Academy, not Mlell Militia Base-”

He smiled. “This is the Academy, Lieutenant.”

“It is? I was under the impression that the Academy was a civilian installation?”

“No, though we do get civilian alumni from the neighbouring communities, the majority are trainee officers earning their degrees in Medicine and Engineering while stationed on the base. Now, how may I help you?”

She recovered quickly. “Well, I’m running a background check on a former student there: Jhess Furore. I believe he studied Medicine. Paediatrics, specifically.”

“Sounds easy enough to confirm.” Htish nodded, turning to one side and access his own computer. “Just checking now.”

“Thanks again. What’s the weather like there this time of year?”

He smirked on the screen. “We’re into the Rainy Season now. You can’t get the smell of wet fur out of the air wherever you go-” Then his smile dropped as he read something.

Prompting C’Rash to ask,”What’s up?”

Htish looked back at her now, his demeanour altered. “Could you hold for a moment please, Lieutenant?” Then the screen went on Stand By before C’Rash could respond.

After almost a minute of still being on Stand By, she picked up a barbell from the floor beneath her desk and began idly curling it with her left arm. What’s up with you, Lt Htish?

Her office door slid open, and she almost cursed the interruption, until she saw it was- “Uncle Esek.”

Hrelle walked in, pulling his tail forward to let the door slide shut as he watched the barbell rise and fall. “Well, this isn’t the worst thing I’ve caught you doing in here.”

“Says the man with the snack box under his desk.”

“Listen, about my asking you to look into Furore yesterday-”

She set down the barbell. “Hey, I have been! I’m on it right now! It takes time, and we have to rely on civilians to-”

He raised a hand to cut her off. “Claws in! I’m not criticising you, Niece of Mine, I just wanted you to know that you don’t have to do it anymo-” But then he paused and asked, “What have you learned so far?”

She lifted up a PADD from her desk. “I’ve gone through news reports, travel and residency histories, listed references on the Caitian Education Board. Everything from birth to age 18, and from age 23 to now, is well documented and substantiated. I’m currently on hold with a Records Officer at Mlell Academy.” She looked up at him. “Did you know it’s a Militia Academy?”

He blinked. “The Militia? But Furore said he wasn’t in the Militia.”

She nodded. “Apparently they do have a small civilian alumni-”

Then she sat up as the Stand By on her screen disappeared, replaced by the image of a chocolate-furred female greying along her snout, uniformed with command officer’s bars. “You’re Lt Shall, of the Surefoot?”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Hrelle remain at the side of her desk, motioning for her to continue. “Yes, Colonel. May I ask your name-”

“You may ask, but you won’t get it. You’ve contacted us about a certain individual, and I want to know why.”

C’Rash leaned forward, momentarily stunned by the unexpected response from the unexpected individual. “I’m conducting a background check on Jhess Furore, a civilian worker newly arrived on our starship, to verify facts regarding his-”

“Consider it verified.”

“Excuse me, Ma’am?”

“I said consider it verified. Whatever is on the record is true. Just leave him alone and let him do his job.”

C’Rash frowned, nonplussed. “Uh, thank you, Colonel, but is there anyone there I can speak to who might have known him at the time-”

“Listen, Lieutenant,” the Colonel cut in, emphasising the rank, “Be a smart little cub, take the hint, and drop the harassment, because you do not want to get on my bad side. I was leading the Sabrecats on Azure Aura while lazy Starfleet Shirkers like you spent your time counting stars-”

Now Hrelle stepped forward, leaning in to be seen on the cameras of the desk viewscreen. “Excuse me, Colonel, I’m Captain Hrelle. That’s my Chief of Security you’re disrespecting... and threatening. I don’t appreciate either.”

The female on the screen reacted. “Captain Hrelle? If I’d known you were present, I-”

“You... what? You wouldn’t have been wasting our time talking out of your ass?”

“Excuse me, Captain, but I don’t appreciate-”

“Save it; I eat mewling old cats like you for lunch. Now, how does a seemingly ordinary security check on a former student warrant intervention and intimidation from someone of your rank?”

The Colonel looked ready to argue with him further... but then seemed to shake off her hostility of seconds before, as she referred to something off-screen. “Captain, we appear to have had a misunderstanding. You are asking about a Jhess Furore, yes? Well, I can confirm that he was one of the civilian students here, that he studied Medicine, specialising in Paediatrics here, from 2359 to 2364. I can confirm that he graduated in the top ten percent of his class. Instructors have left comments praising his skills, his dedication and his friendliness. There is nothing else of note on his record.”

Hrelle grunted. “Well... thank you for that, Colonel. I apologise for any raised hackles. Surefoot out.” He ended the transmission, turned and leaned against the desk, arms crossed.

C’Rash leaned back in her chair. “Wow. If she had done a sharper U-turn, she would have snapped her tail.” She looked up at him, noting his expression. “What?”

“Colonel Sourpuss mentioned the Sabrecats. They’re Caitian Special Forces: proficient in armed and unarmed combat, demolitions, covert ops and reconnaissance, counter-terrorism, direct action, hostage rescue. I remember reading about some of their off-world operations in the last Ferasan War.” He grunted. “If she was leading them at Azure Aura, then I have to give her credit. They saw some vicious action in the colonies-” He looked at C’Rash, who was working on her computer. “What?”

She nodded at what she read. “Sourpuss’ real name is Colonel Srular, C.O., Forty-Seventh Squadron... HQ’ed at Mlell Base.”

“And of course Jhess just happened to be studying at Mlell at the same time period as the last War.”

“You think Jhess was in the Militia?”

“It would match what your instincts told him about muscle memory.”

“But why would he hide it? Why would the Colonel and the Militia hide it?”

Hrelle frowned in thought. “Sabrecats have a badass reputation, well earned... but have also had many reported problems after the War: PTSD, substance abuse, criminal activity, anger management, suicide-”

C’Rash rose to her feet, her tail twitching. “You think Jhess might have problems that he’s hiding? That the Militia might be covering up?” But then she calmed down. “No.”

“No?”

“No. Ma’Sala would have had him vetted before letting him near her grandcubs.” Her expression changed. “And it’s not like she doesn’t have the resources to check anyone out. We both know what she does over and above her duties as Fleet Captain... even if it isn’t officially acknowledged.”

He grunted. He had been impressed enough with Ma’Sala Shall when he only saw her as a Fleet Captain of the Caitian Planetary Navy. But then he discovered she was also the head of an unofficial Shadow organisation known as the Mother’s Claws, dedicated to protecting their people by any means necessary.

And his niece made sense; even if the Militia was protecting Jhess -- or their own reputation -- by hiding his service record, Ma’Sala would surely know... unless... “Unless she slipped up this time. She’s not omniscient, and things have happened to us that have come as a complete surprise. Jhess could be an unstable veteran... or even someone working for another organisation out to spy on us, like the Orion Syndicate, or Section 31, or-”

“Or... maybe Spotty is exactly who he seems to be: a pain in the ass who happens to be very good with cubs, and that the business with Colonel Srular was just what she said, a misunderstanding.”

T’Varik’s voice cut in between them before he could respond. “Captain, we have rendezvoused with the Azimech, and are prepared to commence beaming over the patients directly to Sickbay Three.”

“Proceed.”

“Sir, I thought perhaps you wished to be here-”

“I’m busy, Commander, proceed!”

“Aye, Sir. Bridge out.”

Hrelle ground his teeth. “Computer: where is Doctor Furore?”

“Jhess is in the Arboretum.”

Hrelle frowned at C’Rash, who smirked. “I guess even the computer’s on a first-name basis with him. I know he’s been using it a lot to familiarise himself with the layout, the schedules, and booking educational time on the Holodeck, the instructional equipment for the cadets-”

He started. “He’s had access to our computers all this time... Special Forces are also taught Cyber Ops... run an audit check of his computer activities since coming onboard.”

She frowned again. “Aren’t you getting a little paranoid, Uncle Esek?”

“Just do it. And try to reach Ma’Sala, get a Priority Message out to her. I’m going to get some answers from Furore once and for all.”

She sat up. “Uh... you’re gonna play nice, right?”

He never replied.

*

Deck 4 Aft, Sickbay 3:

Masterson treble-checked the isolation seals on the main door were activated, before turning back to the staff he picked for the task: Chief Nurse Scarlo, Nurses Eydiir and Jiko Showri, and, at the insistence of Lt Shall, Security Crewman Gorman. “Right, so the medical data the docs on the Azimech sent us was inconclusive-”

“Inconclusive?” Eydiir glared challengingly. “Have they not the equipment or expertise to offer something conclusive?”

Masterson smiled; the girl could get into a fight with her shadow if she had half a mind to... “The medical facilities and crew on ships of this class are more used to dealing with injuries and basic sicknesses than exotic strains like Larosian Fever.

That’s why we’ll be running our own scans to confirm, but if it is LF, the main thing to remember is that fatalities occur not from the disease, but the symptoms: fever spikes that damage enzymes in critical biochemical pathways, causing convulsions and deaths. We’ll be on watch to keep the patient’s temperatures down, keep them hydrated. Some might have portable Life Support Units on, they’ll need transferring to our own-”

The intercom chirped. “Doctor Masterson, the Azimech is ready to beam the patients onboard.”

“Gotchya, Neheru. Tell them to get going.” He looked to Gorman. “Just stay in the background, Brian, these folk will be too sick to do anything but throw up.” Then he nodded to the nurses. “Stand by.”

Seconds later, transporter columns appeared over each of the line of biobeds, and readings immediately began appearing over each of the new arrivals.

The medical staff went to work, Masterson giving the group a once-over: four humans, a Bolian, two Bajorans and a Nausicaan, just as the preliminary data detailed, some with portable life support units harnessed to their torsos. But even as he approached the nearest biobed, one containing a tall, scarred, pale-skinned blonde human female, he frowned at the readings. “Wait- there’s a temperature in this one, but no viral signatures-”

The woman sat up, along with the others, drawing a small energy weapon from the sleeve of her grey jumpsuit, pointing it under Masterson’s chin. She was sweating, but very alert as she ordered, “Don’t move, Doctor.” Her eyes staying fixed on him, she swung out her legs, rose to her feet, swallowed and nodded to the others, as they drew weapons and held the rest of Masterson’s staff at weaponpoint as well, or uncoupled the life support units they wore.

There was a noise, and Masterson turned, ignoring the weapon stuck under his chin, to see Gorman sprawled to the floor, curled up and gasping in pain, as the large Nausicaan stood over him.

“Duujar,” the woman beside Masterson chided. “Minimal violence, please. Remove his phaser and combadge and move him into that Isochamber.”

“Who are ya?” Masterson demanded of the woman. “And what the Sam Hill is going on?”

She eyed him again. “Captain Corinne Chase, formerly of Starfleet, now... on the side of the Angels. And what’s going on, Doctor, is a hijack.” She prodded the weapon into his throat. “And you’ve just used up your ration of questions for the day. Don’t get greedy.”

*

The familiar scent of the plants in the Arboretum hit his nostrils as Hrelle entered... while also picking up the musk of the new arrival. He was alone here, sitting in a lotus position on a patch of Caitian blue gramagrass, wearing a baggy vest and shorts and a smile. He never opened his eyes as Hrelle entered and approached, but obviously recognised who it was. “Esek! Come to join me?”

Hrelle stopped in front of him. “No, I... I couldn’t get myself into that position.”

Jhess grinned, eyes still closed. “I bet you could. I bet you’re full of surprises.”

You, too... “I spoke with Colonel Srular at Mlell.” He scrutinised Furore intensely, looking for a response.

But the younger male just sat there, pausing before asking, “Friend of yours, Esek? I should warn you, if you visit Mlell this time of year, bring a rain poncho-”

“Enough of this shit,” Hrelle snapped. “What are you hiding?”

Now Furore opened his eyes, and looked up at Hrelle with concern. “Hiding? Not much in this outfit-”