Surefoot 76: Under New Management

She handed her phaser to Thykrill and stepped forward.

"What are you doing?" Salvo exclaimed in an incredulous growl.

"My job." C'Rash straightened up and drew closer to the doorway, calling out, "Hello?" As the noise from the Hangar Bay abruptly ceased, she continued, "I'm Lieutenant C'Rash Shall, of Starfleet. I know you're there, I'm here to talk, that's all."

"Stay back!" came a sharp, sibilant voice, "We're armed!"

"Well, I'm not," C'Rash replied mildly. "I'm coming into view, my paws raised. If you want to shoot an unarmed person who only wants to talk, then that's your choice. But I'm going to take the chance that you don't want to do that."

Now she stepped forward.

Salvo watched with disbelief.... and admiration. The Cat had guts.

And if she still ended up getting shot and killed, so be it.

C'Rash stepped into view.

Then someone shouted, "IT'S THE KZINTI!"

C'Rash ducked but kept her place as a red disruptor bolt shot past her, hitting the wall behind her. The Security Team watching tensed, but she glanced in their direction long enough to shake her head, before facing the interior of the Hangar Bay again, shouting, "I'm not Kzinti! I'm Caitian! And with Starfleet! See the uniform?"

There was a rumble of voices from the intruders.

And then the one who first spoke asked, "You are Caitian? Like Captain Hrelle?"

*

The reports were coming in thick and fast from his people from different parts of the station, as Hrelle and crew descended in the turbolifts to the Hangar Bay, Hrelle racing out ahead as he took it all in, before stopping to see about thirty, thirty-five Paserak, males and females, young and old, huddled together in the centre of the huge bay, a collection of confiscated weapons nearby, the unexpected intruders surrounded by Starfleet Security.

And Kami and Misha were there too, his cub waving to him as he announced, "Hi Papa! I made a friend, and didn't fight!"

The obvious lead Paserak stepped forward on Hrelle's arrival, protectively waving back the rest of his people. He wore elaborately-embroidered red and gold robes with tribal leader insignia, had his inner eyelids milking his vision in his people's instinctive gesture of defence... but then uncloaked them, the reptoid appearing startled. "Captain Hrelle?"

Hrelle stopped, frowning. "Do I know you?" It had been ages since he had encountered any Paserak, but could only recall Maquadan Benjo with any clarity, and his offspring- "Turikana?"

He said nothing, though some of the younger members of his group couldn't help but react. Beside Hrelle, Sternhagen drew up, peering through her glasses at him. "Is that Maquadan's son?"

The Paserak male said nothing, but as he studied him more, the colours of his clothes and how they matched Maquadan's tribe, it was obvious. He raised his paws and stepped forward. "Open Hands." He continued as the young male relaxed, a little. "It is you, isn't it, Turi? It's been about fifteen or sixteen years since I last saw you or your father, but the stud patterns under your jaw, the markings around your eyes..." He smiled. "It's good to see you again. But why are you all here? Where's your father?"

He bristled. "He was lost. Lost to the Kzinti."

"The Kzinti?" Sternhagen echoed, sounding alarmed.

"Yes," Turikana hissed, looking to her. "Your people had shut down Salem One and left it long before, when our ship was pursued by a pack of Kzinti Raiders after we left Nepenthe. We fought and ran and fought and ran. They... they were relentless."

"Why would they attack you?" Hrelle asked. "The Paserak have enjoyed neutrality throughout the sector, with the Federation, the Kzinti, the Nist. What changed?"

"We never learned. But whatever it was that had spurred them into attacking our ship, Father knew we could not reach our Homelands, and that none of the other tribes would assist us, so he ordered us to come here."

"But you knew we had evacuated the sector," Sternhagen noted soberly. "There was no one here to help you."

"The station was here."

"It was on Sentinel Mode," C'Rash reminded them. "Locked down. No one could approach unauthorised without being fired upon. How did you manage to come onboard safely?"

Turikana didn't answer, but dipped his head, leaving Hrelle to opine, "The Paserak have advanced technology, use their neutrality and their commerce to learn about other races, study their protocols." He focused on the young Paserak again. "You were able to trick the systems, beam the survivors from your ship onboard."

He looked up again, the guilt clear in his expression and voice. "Yes, and then co-opted your station's weapons to destroy what remained of our ship, hopefully to deceive the Kzinti and make them leave. It worked."

Hrelle nodded. "And you've been hiding here ever since, keeping a low profile so as not to attract attention, altering the internal sensors to hide your people. But why didn't you contact the other tribes to come and collect you-" Then he remembered. "You said before that none of the other tribes would assist you. What's changed with your people since I was here last, Turi?"

"Much, Sir. Our people have Schismed, no longer uniting for each other's mutual protection. The details behind it are not a subject for Aliens."

Now Salvo stepped forward angrily. "Show respect, Dog! You broke into our station, lived in our quarters, stole our food, power, supplies-"

"They also made improvements to the plasma coolant feeds," Sakai offered, entering the conversation. "And kept the life support filters, radiometric converters, transkinetic chambers and other systems maintained at a higher efficiency than the robots. We're still discovering other improvements, Commodore, but you should know they made our expected work here that much easier." He tipped an imaginary hat in the direction of the Paserak. "My compliments to your people's technical prowess, Young Sir."

Turikana nodded in appreciation. "Many of us served as Engineers within our Tribe... and we could not simply take from you without giving something back." He looked to Hrelle again. "Captain Hrelle -- Commodore Hrelle -- despite your allegiance to a military power, my father never stopped praising your honour and generosity, even after you were missing and presumed dead. We would not have violated your territory unless we had no other choice. As the successor to my father, I will assume full responsibility for everything our people did here. Please, spare the others, have them transported to some safe haven-"

Salvo made a dismissive sound. "Prisoners do not get to make bargains!"

"My new Station Security Chief is correct," Hrelle agreed. "Prisoners do not get to make bargains. Fortunately, none of you are prisoners."

Salvo looked to him now. "What?"

He ignored her, drawing closer to Turikana. "Your father's support to me helped us maintain order in this sector more times than I can count. We owe him... and his son, and his tribe.

What if all of you remain here for now, openly, listed as Civilian Specialists, contracted to the Federation -- not Starfleet -- to offer technical and other support to the station? Most of our people and cadets will be focusing on manning and maintaining our starships, at least at the start.

I don't know what problem might have arisen among the Tribes of the Paserak, and I respect your reluctance to reveal the details behind it. But this arrangement will give you the freedom and opportunity to plan where your tribe can go next.

You are so young to have to take on the responsibility of Tribal Leader from your father. But from what I have seen here, of your efforts to keep your people alive and not betray your principles, Maquadan would be so proud of you, his fins would probably stay red for days." He held out his right paw to the young reptoid. "Shelter, Food and Protection, for Technical and Support Services... focusing on preventing anyone else from doing what you managed."

Turikana looked back at the others... though Hrelle could sense that the Paserak had already made up his mind.

He clasped Hrelle's paw.

*

Misha settled down into his new bed in their new home, finding comfort in Mama having brought over the bedsheets and pillow he had on the Surefoot.

After Papa took care of things with the Paserak, Mama gave Misha back to Gyver while she helped the Paserak settle in and get listed officially... with Gyver promising that Abracosa and the others her age would be joining the growing number of Station Cubs.

Misha was happy about that. He just wished Mama and Papa were here-

He sat up again when he heard Mama in the main room, thanking Gyver for minding Misha and Sreen and wishing him Good Night. Seconds later, his bedroom door slid open. "I thought you'd still be awake." He watched her silhouette enter, carrying something in her paws.

He switched his light on, peering at what she had, his heart quickening. "My uniform!"

"Yes." She set it down on his chair, then sat on the edge of his bed, curling her tail under her as she stroked his fur. "I've been talking with some of the Paserak cubs, and with Mr Gyver. I'm told that not only did you not act aggressively, you made efforts to be peaceful and friendly with someone you didn't know. Doing what you did helped your Papa and everyone else. So, maybe you can be allowed to wear your uniform again." She touched the combadge. "And this one is real."

Misha's eyes lit up. "Real?"

She smiled. "Well, it'll let you contact Mr Gyver or me in an emergency, anyway... and let us track you more accurately on Salem One." She drew in and stroked the side of her muzzle against his. "Good night, Son of Mine. I love you."

He hugged her back. "Good night, Mama. I love you too."

As she rose to depart, he asked, "I need a Captain Misha Meal to help me sleep."

"Don't push your luck, Sport."

*

"Station Log, Stardate 54898.55, Commodore Esek Hrelle Recording: This is my first log entry as the Commanding Officer of Station Salem One, and I am pleased to say it is an optimistic one, with the addition of our Paserak guests to assist us. There is still the mystery behind the Schism among the Paserak people, and the reasons behind the Kzinti attack, both issues which could potentially affect our operations, but one thing at a time.

Speaking of which..."

*

Zir couldn't help but tense as Salvo entered Commodore Hrelle's Office, despite knowing the other woman had been summoned by their mutual Commanding Officer. Salvo stood formally before his desk. "You wished to see me, Sir?"

Hrelle glanced briefly in Zir's direction, before leaning forward in his chair. "Yes, Lieutenant Commander. I want your assessment of the reports on these PADDs." He selected two from a stack, set them side by side, and slid them towards Salvo.

She caught and picked them up, looking slightly annoyed at being asked to perform what she obviously considered a menial task... until she began reading them, alternating between the two PADDs, before looking up at him, frowning. "What is this about?"

Zir was curious as well; Hrelle had been circumspect about the reason for calling Salvo, and she was sitting up as well as he replied, "You can read for yourself, but since my Adjutant will be unaware and because I love the sound of my own voice, I'll explain.

The report on each PADD begins identically: with a formal complaint raised about you, concerning your conduct on the colony world of Scesity, towards Lieutenant Zir Dassene and Ensign Atiaro Thykrill, and about Lieutenant Commander Sextilis Magna Bellator. Conduct thoroughly unbecoming of an officer in Starfleet."

Zir started at the mention of her name, and the memory triggered by the reference to the incident, but she steeled herself as Salvo sneered in her direction. "I am insulted that you would take her word over mine."

"Lieutenant Dassene hasn't contributed to the report," Hrelle informed the Nova Roman, regaining her attention. "It was Ensign Thykrill, via her superior officer Lieutenant Shall. She detailed the insults you used against her, Lt Dassene and Lt Cmdr Bellator. I've known all the parties long enough to know who to believe."

Salvo's eyes saucered with indignation. "I have a right to confront my accusers-"

But then Hrelle brought a furred finger to the tip of his snout, making a shushing sound, as if his infant daughter was in the room sleeping, and lowered it again as he spoke in a soft -- but still threatening -- tone. "Save it. We're not here to debate, or to waste time following Starfleet Regulations and go through a court martial.

I thought I had settled matters with you on Deep Space Nine when I recruited you. I gave you a chance, an opportunity no one else would, to stay in Starfleet and assume a role that was vital and worthy of your potential, that would let you retain some honour.

Clearly you haven't learned enough of a lesson.

Now, at another time, I might have given in to my baser instincts and thrown you around the office like a rag doll... and don't think for a moment that I couldn't do it.

But I'm supposedly older, wiser, in a greater position of responsibility than I have ever been before. And I also want to be a better example to my son. So we'll conduct this in a more mature, civilised manner, as befitting our uniform.

Effectively immediately you are demoted to the rank of Lieutenant."

Salvo bolted upright fully, baring clenched, pearly teeth. "You miserable-"

He pointed in her direction, baring his own teeth, sharp and gleaming and lethal. "Don't... finish... that. You're demoted in rank, and your position in the chain of command will be beneath myself and every senior officer onboard... including Lt Dassene. You will also commence Counseling sessions with my wife, because despite your lauded strength and tenacity, I don't believe you're immune to the ravages of the War. And you will formally apologise to your fellow officers whom you insulted."

He pointed to the PADD on his left. "The report on that one ends with you accepting this decision and complying with immediate effect." Then he indicated the other PADD. "The report on that one ends with you refusing this, and being taken into custody for your court martial. And you won't have the time or opportunity to resign before it's filed... with a copy sent back to the government on Nova Roma. Good luck obtaining a position worthy of you back home."

Now he rose to his feet. "Arcanis... a life spent battling others will dull and crack the sharpest blade. And while strength is admirable, it can be applied to more than just defeating your opponents. It can be turned inward, tempering your flaws... and ultimately making you stronger. You're no longer a lone wolf, manning an outpost by yourself. You have people here willing to trust you, support you... if you can find it in yourself to earn that trust and support."

Salvo tensed at his words.

Then she relaxed, a little, as she reached down and pressed her thumbprint against the first report, before half-turning to Zir. "I regret my words to you. They were not worthy. It won't happen again." Then she looked back at Hrelle. "I will speak with Ensign Thykrill after this."

"And Lt Cmdr Bellator, too."

The woman stiffened... but nodded. "Will that be all, Sir?"

His gaze narrowed. "Not just yet." He indicated her collar.

She frowned once more, but then grunted in understanding, reaching up and removing her additional pips, leaving her with the visible rank of Lieutenant.

"You made the right choice," he informed her. "I look forward to seeing you earn those again, and pinning them back on you. And then paying for the drinks at the promotion party afterwards to get you egregiously hammered."

She assessed him, nodding stoically but offering a sly, "You will need deep pockets."

Then she turned on her heels and strode out.

Zir watched as Hrelle continued to stare in the direction of the office door, even as he spoke to her. "Lieutenant, why didn't you bring this to my attention yourself?"

She felt her skin flush with the question, and even as she responded, she recognised the inadequacy of her explanation. "I... I didn't want you to think I couldn't handle the job you've given me, Sir. Salvo wasn't the first Starfleet officer to insult me."

Now he turned to her, giving her a reproving look she hadn't seen since... well, since her father. "That doesn't mean you have to accept it; racist abuse is inexcusable, at any stage. Even if you weren't representing me as my Adjutant, you deserve to be respected. You wouldn't allow any members of your Alpha Squad to experience such treatment, would you?"

Zir felt herself nova from within. "No, Sir."

"And what about Atiaro? She was counting on you, as a senior officer present during the incident, to report it on her behalf, if not your own."

She felt shame twist inside her. He was right. He was absolutely right. She had been thinking only of herself... and even then, not in the way she should have been. "I'm... I'm sorry to let you down, Sir."

He harrumphed, wagging a finger at her. "I'll let you know when you've let me down, Missy. Now, it's Quitting Time."

"Sir?"

"Leave the PADD in your office, go to your quarters and unpack, then find your friends and go exploring or something."

She shook her head. "Sir, I can't stop now, I have to plan your schedule for tomorrow: the inspection tour, the conference call to the First Contact Team on Bandera III, the modifications to the new Academy Deck, the station shuttle tests-"

He tapped his combadge. "Commodore Hrelle to Ensign Boone: Lieutenant Dassene needs a night off from work. Can you and your friends assist?"

The young man's voice sounded amused. "I'll take care of it, Sir."

"Thanks, Peter. Hrelle out." He smiled... but then his expression sobered.

It was enough to make her ask, "Sir? Are you okay?"

"Yes." He glanced around. "This is much more expansive than my office on the Surefoot; many more places to hide my Snack Stash." He waved her off. "Good night, Zir. See you at 0700 Hours."

The young woman breathed in, grateful for his actions and reactions now. "Good night, Commodore."

*

Hrelle emerged from his office a minute later and ascended to the next half-deck, seeing Sternhagen hunched over a console in the Command Centre, instructing some of the Engineering crewmen in upgrading one of the interfaces, before straightening up, pressing her fists into her lower back. "Well, Kate?"

She rolled her neck, turning to him. "A new nightmare, with the industrial replicators working overtime to produce the materials for the modifications to the new Cadet Quarters. I'm gonna have my work cut out for me."

He smirked, sensing the change in her scent and demeanour. "So, I guess you won't be rushing back to Scesity any time soon, huh?"

She made a sound, her attention seemingly caught by something else in the Command Centre.

He started toward the exit, calling back, "You'd be more comfortable back in uniform."

"Baby steps, Esek."

He chuckled and walked away, descending to the deck below, the Officers' Quarters... but didn't head to his new residence, moving instead in the opposite direction, along a path he hadn't taken in well over a decade. Go on, Commodore. Kate, Salvo, Zir, Misha, Turikana... they all still adapt and learn. You can, too. You freed your entire planet. You helped win the War with the Dominion. You can do this.

For a moment he paused outside the door, trying to fool himself into not entering, out of fear that it was already occupied. But he knew better, having checked the manifest before leaving his office.

He entered his former home.

Time had passed, of course; after the Bel-Zon attack, after Hannah had been killed and Sasha had been shipped back to Earth to live with her grandparents, others had lived here, and then the last occupants' personal possessions had been packed up and transported away after Salem One was shut down for the War. But there was still furniture here, which would be useful for whomever does move in.