Surefoot 49: Tooth and Claw

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Sasha Hrelle faces trauma, danger... and a new direction...
23.3k words
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Part 63 of the 104 part series

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

USS Ajax, Deck 2 Mid - Science Lab:

Lt Sasha Hrelle looked up from her hand, eyes narrowing across the table at her opponents and grimacing. "Hmmm... I think I have bupkis here."

Lt Jim Madison's broad dimpled chin lifted as he raised the ante into the pot. "And I think I'll have to upgrade the onboard Universal Translator for all your Yiddish words."

She looked over at her lover. "Understanding Yiddish is easy: 99% of it is about complaining: about the Universe, the weather, your family, your health... or a crappy hand of cards."

On her right, the Tellarite helmsman Ensign Grel clacked his hooves. "A language of mostly complaints? Sign me up." He added his own chips, as did the Tactical Officer Ensign Bump, and Nurse Okeke, a Wakandan woman with deep brass eyes and a booming laugh.

Sasha stared at the second round of bets, looking thoroughly defeated as she turned to Shanek. "Well, Ensign? Care to add the final nail in the coffin of your Second Officer?"

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow... and lowered his hand, face down. "I fold."

Sasha offered him a smile, turned to the rest of the table... and then dropped her smile as she raised again, triggering another round of bets before she finally announced, "Call."

They laid their cards down. And Sasha's Three Queens beat them all.

She chuckled as she drew in the pot. "Much obliged, dear suckers, much obliged." She glanced at Shanek again. "How did you know to drop out?"

"I recognised your attempt to Doublecock me."

All eyes turned to him.

"Excuse me?" Sasha asked, grinning.

"A term developed in early 19th Century poker strategy," Shanek explained, deadpan. "A tactic employed by a player to seize control of the pot, by offering false tells and double bluffs suggesting a weak hand, in order to lull opponents into raising, before the player re-raises, trapping other players who would otherwise have folded if the player had first raised."

"How can a Vulcan be so good at poker?" Grel groused, his snout wrinkling. "I thought your people were incapable of lying."

"That is a fallacy," Shanek informed him, rearranging his chips. "Though we strive to be honest at all times. However, within the context of the game, where deception is a necessary and accepted tool, it is not considered ethically wrong."

"I never took our Second Officer to be a Doublecocker," Okeke quipped, lifting up her tumbler of Spican flame whiskey and bringing it to her full lips.

Grel grunted with amusement. "How about it, Jim? Does Sasha Doublecock you when you're alone with her?"

Madison smiled. "I never kiss and tell."

"As your roommate," Shanek pointed out, reaching for his own glass. "I must disagree."

Sasha was moving to the Lab's replicator, now reconfigured by Madison to produce drinks and snacks instead of base chemicals and scientific instruments, but now stopped and looked back at the table. "Oh really, Shanek? And when he leaves me, does he come home to you giving you all the gory details?"

"Careful how you answer that, Buddy," Madison warned with mock portent, shaking a finger at him. "Remember, I know where you live."

The Vulcan imbibed sparingly. "Admittedly, he does not elaborate, and is never uncomplimentary towards you, Lieutenant Hrelle... except for a general complaint about the number of bites you leave on him."

Grel and Okeke laughed, their laughter doubling as the more naive Bump whispered to them, "Why would Lieutenant Hrelle bite him? Do they fight a lot?"

Sasha chuckled, knowing her relationship with Jim was the talk of the Ajax... and much more comfortable about it than when it all started months ago. She leaned into the replicator. "A plate of fried shuris pieces."

Moans rose from the players at the table, Grel punctuating with, "No more, Lieutenant! Please!"

"What are you talking about? You never had any of the first plate!"

"None of us did," Okeke elaborated. "Because shuris is awful. Looks awful, smells awful, tastes awful."

"As a vegetarian," Shanek commented. "I have never indulged in any meat products. But if I did... I still would not eat shuris."

Sasha offered them all her middle finger. "Fine, I'll have to finish this myself."

"You don't have to, you know," Madison pointed out delicately, rising to his feet, finishing his shot of whiskey and walking around, stretching his muscles. "You didn't have to have that first plate, for that matter. I mean, on top of that full dinner you had tonight-"

"What are you trying to tell me, Cuddles?" she challenged, glaring at him, albeit playfully.

He turned away, seemingly casually. "Nothing, nothing at all... it's just, well, I can't help but notice you're, ah, putting on a little weight."

Okeke breathed in. "Stand by for Red Alert."

Sasha ignored her. "Oh, am I?"

Madison never made any attempt to look her way, as if distracted by a wall panel. "Not that it shows on you, of course, but... well, it gets more noticeable when you're on top-"

She raced across the lab and leapt onto his back, wrapping her legs around his muscular thighs and her arms around his wide shoulders, roaring and biting him on the neck as he spun around in mock panic at her attack.

"I think I'd rather deal with the Caitian eating habits than the mating ones," Grel teased, grasping the table to keep it from being knocked over from the antics of the couple.

Just then the door slid open, and Lt Cmdr Kit Kohanim entered, the Zakdorn First Officer taking in the scene with a visible display of outrage. "What is the meaning of this?"

The junior officers bolted to attention, while Sasha hopped off of Madison's back and followed suit, albeit with a stance that was slightly less than full attention. "Lieutenant Commander, how may we assist you?"

Kohanim glowered at her, the folds on either side of his round oatmeal-coloured face always making him look like he was melting from his own internal chagrin at her antics. "You may assist me, Lieutenant, by explaining what you and these junior officers are doing in the Science Lab, engaged in unauthorised activities!"

"Unauthorised, Sir? What do you mean?"

He bristled, moving to the table and lifting up a tumbler and a set of discarded playing cards, as if his protest genuinely needed explanation. "These! Or are you going to try and pass all this off as some scientific experiment being conducted?"

"Yes, Sir," she responded deadpan. "We're studying Probability Mechanics."

"Really? And what about you riding on the back of Lt Madison and biting him?"

She paused. "Science makes me hungry?"

Bump almost snickered at that, but thankfully for him managed to stifle it when Kohanim glanced at him.

Then the First Officer returned to the primary object of his ire. "The rest of you, return to your quarters. Lieutenant Hrelle, follow me."

Sasha didn't have to ask where they were going. This wasn't the first clash she'd had with her immediate superior since boarding the Ajax.

*

Captain Weynik sat behind his desk in his Ready Room, the diminutive Roylan's black eyestalks looking a little tired to Sasha - or more likely, a little weary at having to settle another dispute between his senior officers - as Sasha adopted a formal stance this time, and Kohanim continued his tirade. "It's disgraceful, Captain! They were playing poker in the Science Lab!"

Weynik looked to Sasha. "Really? Why wasn't I invited?"

She broke her pose to respond to him. "My Dad advised me not to play with you, Sir. Something about you being a 'devious little nubbin at cards'."

Weynik chuckled. "I'd be offended at the description if it wasn't true."

"Captain," Kohanim cut in. "With respect, Lt Hrelle is meant to be a senior officer on board! She should not be consorting with junior officers!"

"Mr Kohanim, our crew numbers a mere forty, and you and I are the only other senior officers. I can't blame her for preferring to hang out with people her own age, instead of two old farts like us."

"Oh? And should the definition of 'hanging out' include Public Displays of Affection with Lt Madison?"

Weynik looked to Sasha. "What sort of displays?"

She flushed. "Nothing really, Sir. It was just a bit of fun!"

"It was unseemly!" Kohanim declared.

She looked to him now, her face darkening further. "Maybe you should try it yourself? It might loosen that stick up your ass."

"Excuse me?"

"Lieutenant," Weynik cut in sharply. "As much as I respect your abilities, and the friendship I hold with your father and your family, I won't tolerate gross disrespect from you towards superior officers. Lt Cmdr Kohanim's duty, among many others, is to help shape you into being the best officer you can be. He doesn't deserve a response like what you just offered him, and if he wishes to place a note on your permanent record for it, I will support him. Is that clear?"

Sasha bristled, but she visibly forced the anger from her. "Yes, Sir, you're absolutely right." She turned to the Zakdorn, her expression and voice filled with genuine contrition. "I sincerely apologise to you, Lieutenant Commander, and I swear to you that it won't be repeated. But if you still wish to add that note to my record, I won't contest it."

Kohanim harrumphed... but then his own expression softened. "This is a learning process, Lieutenant, and I'm prepared to overlook it this time. And for the record: apart from your... off-duty activities, and general overly casual attitude when dealing with junior officers, I have nothing but praise for the extent of your cross-field expertise, as well as the efficiency you put into your system and quartermaster reports, work schedules, communication updates and staff meeting notes."

"In other words," Weynik quipped. "We're glad to have a Second Officer onboard to handle all the drudge administrative work that COs and XOs hate to do. As for tonight's activities: in future keep them confined to the Rec Room, and the PDA to your private quarters." The Roylan lifted up a PADD from his desk and passed it to his First Officer. "We have a mission ahead of us: proceed to the Bridge, and take us to these coordinates at Warp 8."

Kohanim glanced at it. "And what will we do when we get there, Sir?"

"We'll stop. Dismissed."

The bemused Zakdorn paused, as if ready to question the unusual orders further, before nodding again and departing.

Then Weynik relaxed his stance and focused on Sasha. "At ease, Lieutenant. Have a seat."

Sasha relaxed as well, taking the nearest chair, and letting Weynik meet her gaze on a more even level as he asked, "Sash... are you okay?"

He saw the slight, subtle change in her expression, heard it in her voice, as she forced a smile to her face. "Me? I'm fine, thanks, Sir."

"You don't seem fine. At times, you seem to be on a knife edge, fluctuating between what Kohanim described as 'overly casual', and being ready to snap people's heads off. And it's been that way since the incident with the Klingons boarding the Ajax. I know you spoke with Kami following that, but if you feel you could benefit from further Counseling sessions, with her or someone else, or even another visit to your family on the Surefoot-"

"No, thank you, Sir. I'm needed here."

"You're not needed here to tear a new one out of Kohanim - who, for his faults, is just doing his job."

He sighed. "I remember when you and I first met on the Starsong, during the incident with the cloaked Cardassians. You were equally impudent to my previous First Officer, Ibanez. But, perhaps foolishly in retrospect, I encouraged that, since you were just a cadet and not under my command and... well, I wanted to annoy that jerk.

But this is different. You're not a cadet anymore, you're third in command of a starship, at a very dangerous time for Starfleet and the Federation. If we've pushed you too far, too fast-"

She bolted to her feet. "No!" More calmly now, she continued. "I mean, No, Sir. I- I just want to... make everyone proud of me. Live up to the potential everyone seems to see in me." She smiled. "You understand, I'm sure."

He smiled back. "As a former wunderkind, yes, I do. Now, we won't need you until we arrive at our destination in four hours' time, so go back to your quarters and sleep. That means no poker, no drinking, and no Bumper Calls with Lt Madison."

"Sir, if you tell me what the mission is, I can get started with the prep work-"

"Your prep work is to sleep. That's an order."

Her smile dropped, as quickly as she had fitted it on. "Captain-"

"Sasha..." he interrupted, his tone sharpening. "Learn to just respond with, 'Aye, Sir', and go."

She bit her lip, and finally nodded. "Aye, Sir."

He leaned back in his chair, smiling and indicating the door.

She smiled again, nodded and departed, only letting her smile drop as he strode down the narrow corridors of the Defiant-class starship to her quarters, which she had to herself, one of the perks of being a senior officer.

As the door slid shut and she locked it, she felt the anger build up inside her. She paced her surroundings like a cat in a cage, her hands balled so tightly into fists that they ached. She looked around at the decorations on the walls, trying to centre herself, not let the encounter with Kohanim and Weynik and the loss of control she exhibited in front of them overwhelm her.

Her decor should help: the miniature pennant denoting the colours and symbols of the Shall Clan; the tiny clippings of amburwood that she somehow kept from dying, producing a pleasing scent reminiscent of the hills around the Clanlands; the drawings her little brother Misha did for her, of their Dad and Kami and C'Rash and T'Varik and herself, all together, all happy, focus on that, focus on that, focus-

No. She reached for her Pummels - compact, fist-loaded weapons that fittedover her upper fingers like ancient brass knuckles, a present from Grandma, their duratanium frames able to deliver neuroleptic shocks or just increase the impact of her punches - and slipped into them, moving to the heavy punching bag suspended in a corner of her quarters.

And she began punching. Hard. Fast. Past the point of it hurting. Again. Again! AGAIN!

"GODDAMMIT!" she screamed.

Finally, she collapsed to the floor, gasping, her throat raw, the pain too much now, but still welcome. Anything to take her away from everything else she was feeling.

Numbly she was aware of the damage in her fingers, and with difficulty slipped the Pummels off, and then reached under her bunk and drew out the medical kit she sequestered there for such occasions, opening it and beginning the familiar routine to repair the damage before she had to return to duty. She certainly wasn't going to Sickbay to have it taken care of, and have reports filed. Seven Hells, no. They'd definitely take her off duty for extended Counseling, or some such nonsense. She didn't need help.

She was taking care of herself just fine.

*

Deck 1, Bridge:

"Dropping out of warp," Sasha reported, frowning. "Vessel dead ahead, Sir, stationary. Scanning for ID-"

"Belay that," Weynik ordered from his central chair. "No transmissions either. Helm, Full Stop. Any other vessels detected in the area?"

"None, Sir."

He rose to his feet. "Mr Kohanim, order Condition Level Four: all off-duty personnel confined to their quarters until further notice. You have the Bridge; I'll be in Engineering."

"Engineering, Sir? May one ask why?"

Weynik glanced at him. "We've been assigned to field test an experimental modification to our warp drive. For security reasons, the equipment and the engineer in charge of it is being beamed directly onto our Engineering Deck, and I have to be there to oversee the installation... and to put a muzzle on Chief Maryk. When I'm ready, I'll call you both down. Is that understood?"

"Of course, Sir."

Weynik left the Bridge.

Sasha frowned with curiosity, examining her board, relying on passive scans of the vessel- Weynik never said anything about just looking at them, after all- "What the-"

Kohanim looked up and approached. "What is it, Lieutenant?"

Sasha looked back at him, almost instinctively becoming defensive... but then accepting how unfair that response was, recognising how much she had contributed to the bad history built between them over the months. She nodded to the viewscreen, displaying a sleek, blue-green, crescent-shaped vessel. "That's a Caitian military vessel, Sir."

Kohanim looked up as well. "It is? Are you sure?"

"Yes, Sir: a Shikaris Escort, their equivalent of our own Defiant-class, one of the principal ships in the Caitian Planetary Navy. No mistaking it."

He continued to stare up at it, but asked in a low voice, "Our esteemed Captain didn't offer any further hints regarding our mission after I left, did he?"

"None, Sir."

The Zakdorn harrumphed, and in a very low, confidential tone noted, "He does like being enigmatic, doesn't he?"

Sasha couldn't help but grin - and note herself that this was the most informal, casual conversation the two of them had ever had. "Annoying, isn't he?"

He offered a slight smirk. "Protocol forbids me from going that far... but if it did, I would agree with you."

Two minutes later, the expected transporter signal was detected.

And ten minutes after that, Weynik summoned his senior officers to join him.

*

Space was always at a premium in every part of the ship, but Main Engineering was one of the exceptions - except when their Chief Engineer, a petite, freckled, redheaded Russian named Helga Maryk, was in one of her moods. As she appeared to be now, just as she appeared to be the only member of the crew present, except for Weynik, and now Sasha and Kohanim.

But Sasha was quickly distracted from Maryk's mood by the stranger in their midst: a middle-aged, sepia-furred Caitian male in the red and black uniform of the Caitian Planetary Navy. He was currently crouching over an unfamiliar piece of equipment now connected to the Ajax's warp field manifold array, his twitching tail a sign of his concentration.

But now the figure rose as Weynik greeted the new arrivals. "Ahh, just in time! Lt Cmdr Kohanim, Lt Hrelle, this is Major Tan Ctuuri, of the Caitian Planetary Navy's Corps of Engineers."

The male stepped forward and politely shook Kohanim's and Sasha's hand - but as they made contact, Sasha couldn't help but notice, not just his scent, but his quickening tail. She was still human despite her overwhelming interest in Caitians and Caitian culture, so she couldn't claim to have senses as keen as theirs. But she could swear that this male had an interest, even an attraction, to her.

But she filed her thoughts away as Weynik continued to speak. "Major Ctuuri has completed installation of an experimental catalytic converter."

"A... 'catalytic converter', Captain?" Kohanim echoed.

The Roylan Captain nodded. "It's designed to efficiently minimise damage to local space with the use of extended high warp speeds, without the additional modifications required by variable warp geometry protocols."

Behind them, Maryk made another cursing sound and stormed out of view.

Weynik ignored her and motioned for the door. "Now, let's talk further in my Ready Room." But over his shoulder, he called back, "Remember our talk, Chief: no touching the new equipment, no scanning the new equipment, no talking about the new equipment."

"Past' zabej, padla jebanaja!"

"Thank you, Chief. I'm sure that whatever you just said, it will translate into something non-courtmartiable."

Surefoot
Surefoot
205 Followers