Surefoot 82: Persona Non Grata

"Of course, Ma'am."

But he still took his time.

He barely had a chance to restore the forcefield before she dragged him away by the elbow, practically pushing him against a wall. Indignation crossed his own features at her actions. "Keep your hands off me!"

She stabbed a finger in his face, gritting her teeth. "You stay the Hell away from him! I don't want you talking to him, I don't want you anywhere near him!"

Nizig sneered at her now. "You don't have any authority over me! I take my orders from Captain Louvois!"

"Yes! And she wants Ensign Beaudine to have a fair trial! What do you think she'd say if I raised a complaint - a public complaint - against you for harassing him, and for interfering in the duties she appointed me to?"

The Suliban kept sneering - but clearly listened to what she had to say. "Well, far be it from me to interfere in the mechanisms of Justice. If you feel that strongly about a traitor's feelings, Lieutenant Commander, I'll keep my distance." But before he departed, he added, "Good luck finding people that don't feel like I do, though."

*

"This is a load of shit," Weynik declared.

Standing nearby, feeling like a visitor despite the office being on his station, Hrelle was grateful that his friend didn't look to him for support, but instead focused his ire on Louvois, who sat behind her new desk as if she'd been there for years, smiling up at him. "Care to specify, Captain, or is this just a diatribe on life in general?"

Standing beside Captain Godleski, Weynik pointed a finger in the JAG officer's direction. "First you press-gang my XO into Judicial Service without prior consultation, and then you include me as well in all this?"

Louvois folded her hands onto her desk. "I should remind you, Captain, that Lt Cmdr Hrelle is not in my service, but the service of the Judge Advocate General's Office... and more particularly, in the service of Ensign Beaudine. I recognise that I was assigned here at extreme short notice, and ordered to conduct a court martial with immediate effect despite lacking a full legal staff.

But my orders also grant me authorisation to employ any I believe qualified and capable to help me fulfil that task. Unless of course you think Ms Hrelle is not up to the challenge?"

Now the Roylan crossed his arms. "If I gave you my uncensored opinion of that notion, your ears would be burning for a week."

Louvois smiled. "Don't worry about that, Captain; after all the years at this job my ears have become fireproof. As for you, if it's any comfort, you weren't my first choice to be part of the Court Martial panel, precisely because of your personal connection to her... and her father." She glanced past the other Captains at Hrelle. "But I have been assured by the Commodore that you can act objectively in these proceedings. Is he correct?"

"Yes," Weynik declared unequivocally.

Louvois nodded, looking at Godleski now. "And how about you, Captain? Do you have a problem with this assignment?"

The other woman shrugged. "Well, I have my own personal connections with Commodore Hrelle, but I doubt if our drunken fumblings from thirty-plus years ago will be weighty enough to make me recuse myself. And my crew will certainly be pleased with the extension to their shore leave."

"Well, inform them, and all your loved ones, that the two of you will be sequestered for the duration of the proceedings, with no access or communications to influence you, but we'll get this wrapped up in just a day's time."

"Why the rush?" Hrelle asked suddenly, capturing everyone's attention. "Ensign Beaudine has only just had his counsel assigned to him."

Louvois regarded him again, smiling once more in that insufferable way of hers. "Nothing's being rushed, Commodore, I can assure you; but the legal process is no longer the prolonged marathon that it once was centuries ago. Starfleet just wants this stain on our reputation wiped away as quickly and efficiently as possible."

"Nevertheless," Hrelle continued to protest. "As much as Starfleet wants to resolve this, Ensign Beaudine still deserves a fair trial."

Louvois smiled now, leaning back in her chair. "Tell us the truth, Hrelle: isn't all this Grumpy Cat attitude from you just your ego smarting, because one of your former cadets' crimes has sullied your personal reputation for producing superlative young officers?"

Hrelle kept staring at her, his tail smacking against the wall behind him as he scented the reactions from Weynik and Godleski, before he finally growled back, "Captain Louvois, you forget yourself; we are not peers, we are not equals, and we are certainly not friends.

I'll give you one window of opportunity to withdraw that remark, before I file formal charges against you for Disrespect Towards a Superior Commissioned Officer - charges that I'm sure will be corroborated by the other two officers present."

"Damn right," Weynik muttered angrily, as Godleski grunted in the affirmative.

Hrelle took a step forward. "That window is closing very rapidly, Captain."

Louvois dropped her smirk and straightened up, though she also appeared to be doing it under protest. "Consider it withdrawn. I regret making such a baseless remark... Sir."

He made a disbelieving sound.

*

Beaudine sat on the edge of his bunk, trying not to flinch as Eydiir passed the tricorder sensor wand around him, the Capellan's demeanour uncharacteristically soft. "You've kept yourself in good shape, Bill."

He nodded, before realising how it might affect her readings. "There's not much else to do in a POW camp. I still remembered the callisthenics programs you ran for all of us on the Surefoot." He looked up at the other occupant of the cell: Kami, sitting across from him, silent, studying, her tail swishing behind her. "I heard you've had another cub, Counselor."

The Caitian nodded back affably. "A female. She's called Sreen, she's three years old, with a pair of lungs on her that I hope she soon puts to better use than bursting out in spontaneous song in the middle of the night."

He offered a slight smile back, his eyes glazing with memory. "I remember when Lt Shall had Misha help the Security cadets on a training exercise, having them try and track him down through the Jefferies Tubes. He was the Surefoot Phantom, howling up and down the shafts to put them off the trail. Atiaro and Glenqom were cursing him out for making them look foolish... only Neraxis knew to set a trap for him and flush him out, with some fried shuris pieces."

Kami smiled back. "That trick still works." She looked up at Eydiir. "Well?"

The Chief Nurse glared at her tricorder, as if it was somehow refusing to do as she demanded. "Evidence of minor but long-term neurological trauma, between 1-2 years old, residual respiratory and circulatory damage from decompression-" She focused on Beaudine. "Any idea about the cause?"

His face tightened with pain. "Y-Yes- when I- when I was in space, and the Dominion ships had attacked me, they- they caused a hull rupture- it- it-"

Kami shifted in her seat. "I think you've obtained enough data here, Eydiir. You mentioned accessing Bill's records from the Starfleet Medical Database?"

Eydiir met her gaze... and then reluctantly complied, closing her tricorder and resting her free hand on Beaudine's shoulder. "Be brave, Bill. We will decipher the truth."

Beaudine looked ready to say something in reply, but just nodded back, waiting until she was let out of the cell, and then he rubbed his eyes. "'Be brave'. If it had been as simple as that-"

"She means well," Kami noted gently. "She wasn't mocking you."

"I know," he confirmed wearily, still rubbing his eyes, if only to delay meeting his former Counselor's ever-piercing, ever-perceptive own. "She's changed, too; she's softer, more confident. She used to scare me." Now he sighed, staring at Kami with a half-smile. "You used to scare me, too. I dreaded our Counseling sessions when I first started them."

"I remember," she admitted. "Most people new to Counseling, and new to what they may learn about themselves, can be afraid. I used to say that peeling back layers of ignorance and self-denial to get to the truth within can be painful."

His smile turned bitter. "Well, there's no pain now, Counselor. I know the truth within. I've seen it myself. I'm a coward, and I'm a killer."

Kami leaned forward. "Do you remember what else I used to say, about the value of objective viewpoints? 'Before you select an outfit, always have someone you can trust there to see how it actually looks on you'."

*

Salvo raised one of the new phaser compression rifles up in both hands, gazing through the scope down the length of it as she aimed and fired at the target at the far end of the tunnel, silently invoking the goddess Diana for continued accuracy. Not that she genuinely believed in her people's deities, or in anything really, except her own strength and skills...

"Lieutenant?"

The voice was audible from behind her, but Salvo continued firing, adjusting the strength of the phaser pulses. There was something more viscerally satisfying about the pulse setting as opposed to the traditional steady beams. And the noise it made allowed her the pretence of not hearing the intruder.

Until Louvois drew up to her side, hands behind her back, staring down at the target. "Is there a problem with the gun? It looks like you only hit the target once."

Salvo sneered. "I have hit the target fifteen times... all in the bullseye. If you are disturbing me because I chastised your Security officer for his actions with the prisoner-"

"No, no, I understand, and I have admonished Nizig for his zeal. But I am here regarding the prisoner. What's your opinion of him? His actions?"

The Nova Roman sighed, deactivated the rifle and set it on an adjacent table, rolling her neck to loosen her muscles as she turned to the other woman. "I have none."

"Really? As I understand it, your culture is based on many of the principles of Earth's Roman Empire. They hold a high regard for courage, duty and loyalty-"

"-And brevity. Did you come down here to sate some petty curiosity on your part about my opinion, or is there something more substantial?"

Louvois smirked. "I appreciate your candour. I have an assignment for you, backed by my authority and by the authority of the Judge Advocate General's Office. Commodore Hrelle has been ordered to keep his snout out of the court martial of Ensign Beaudine, and not to interfere in any way with it. Given his... singular nature... I fully expect him not to follow those orders. You are to secretly monitor him, and Lt Cmdr Hrelle, and report immediately on any violation. From either party."

Salvo's gaze narrowed like phaser beams on the other woman. "Is that right?"

"Yes. Monitor the station computer networks, combadge frequencies, track their locations, conversations, no matter how private-" Louvois paused and regarded her. "Is this going to be a problem for you?"

"What? Following orders? No, Captain."

Louvois nodded at that. "I read up about you. You used to be a decorated Lieutenant Commander; Commodore Hrelle demoted you. Humiliated you. You catch him in the act, and you'll get those pips back, as well your revenge on him. I guarantee it. Take any steps necessary. Do we understand each other?"

Salvo scowled and nodded back. "Perfectly, Captain. If you'll excuse me, I'm off duty now."

"Fine, fine. Like I said, keep me informed-"

But Salvo was already picking up the rifle and striding towards the Armoury.

*

Federation Commissioner Ryo Nam-Seon sat formally in Hrelle's office, sipping from the ornate ceramic tea cup as she viewed the data on the wallscreen. "I've approved the colonisation request for Axylus III from the Ferengi Alliance."

Hrelle kicked himself mentally for not focusing on the task at hand, and set aside his PADD. "Really, Commissioner? Ferengi?"

She smiled. "You don't object to having Ferengi around, do you? I know they've had a history of issues with sales ethics and gender rights among their own people, but there's been a great deal of recent improvement since Grand Nagus Rom took over."

"I have no problem with them, Commissioner. As I understand it, Axylus III is a hot, rain-thrashed swamp world anyway, not salubrious for most races, but almost identical to Ferenginar. And Ferengi do tend to stimulate commerce wherever they go. I'd rather have them around than Zorin Interstellar, to be honest."

She looked at him more challengingly now. "Do you still have a problem with my allowing Zorin to establish more projects in the sector, Commodore? I thought we'd settled all that already."

Hrelle considered his reply. Nam-Seon was young but she had some steel in her, was growing more confident with her responsibilities, and he didn't want to discourage her, or muddy their working relationship. "Forgive me, Commissioner; I don't have any problem with your decisions, and nothing you've done so far has given me any actual cause for concern from the point of view of Starfleet. I'm just distracted by this court martial - and the fact that I can't kibitz."

"Kibitz?"

He smiled momentarily. "Back seat piloting. The accused was a former cadet of mine on the Surefoot. And my daughter is defending him. I can't stop wanting to help both of them out. I think I used to have more freedom to get things done when I was just a Captain."

Nam-Seon set aside her teacup and saucer and smiled sympathetically. "The grass is always greener, isn't it? I wish I could offer your daughter or your former cadet some assistance, but with it being a Starfleet matter-"

"Of course, I understand. Then there's my son."

She smiled back warmly. "I met him this morning as he was coming out of school. He's assured me that when he joins Starfleet and works with his Papa here, he'll protect me the way you protect me."

He made a sound.

"You don't have a problem with him protecting me, do you?" she teased gently.

"No... I have a problem with him being so fixed on joining us in the first place. He was born on a starship, spent almost his entire cubhood around people in Starfleet, he's been put in danger... he's even been wounded as a result of that life. We've let him wear miniature Starfleet uniforms and call himself Captain Misha and never once gave him the idea that he could do something else. Something that won't kill him, or leave him disabled or traumatised or facing a court martial or..."

He sighed, rubbing his eye sockets. "Sorry, I didn't mean to load all that onto you. You have better things to do than listen to this old cat mewl about his family problems."

Nam-Seon set aside her teacup and saucer and smiled sympathetically. "Well, I don't have children of my own, but I recognise good, loving parents when I see them. And there's a few years to go between now and when he reaches adulthood. If I'd stuck to the plans I had for a career at Misha's age right now I'd be performing Swan Lake at the Shanghai Ballet. Badly, I might add-"

Suddenly Hrelle's office door slid aside, and Darren Kolchak, the resident civilian journalist from the Federations News Service, strode in. "Commodore! A moment of your time, if you don't mind..."

Hrelle rose to his feet, as Zir appeared directly behind him. "Mr Kolchak, I told you the Commodore was busy!" She looked to Hrelle. "I'm sorry, Sir."

The middle-aged Terran male with the receding hair, hangdog expression and taste for baggy light-coloured suits patted Zir on the shoulder, his recording remote hovering beside him like a fat hummingbird as he smiled with insouciant charm. "Don't blame the kid, Commodore, but I've got a deadline to meet about this court martial case-"

"That's certainly a problem, Mr Kolchak," Hrelle interrupted, "But it's not my problem. And it doesn't excuse you bursting in here. Especially as I'm not involved in the court martial in any way."

"How can you say that, with your own daughter defending a former cadet of yours? Speaking of which, I've got extensive interviews with Captain Louvois and Lt Cmdr Maraud, but your daughter's turned me down, so I was hoping you could approach her and make her change her mind?"

Hrelle stepped around his desk. "No."

"Then how about a personal quote about the court martial itself? It was one of your own cadets who got people killed, after all..." At his cue, his recorder floated around and drew closer to Hrelle-

-Until Hrelle shot out his paw with lightning speed, catching the softball-sized object and smashing it on his desktop, letting the pieces fall out of his paw to the floor.

"Hey, that's private property! You can't do that!" Kolchak complained.

Hrelle stepped up to him. "Your head would spin with the knowledge of what I can do, Mr Kolchak... and I'll remind you that you're present on Salem One at my sufferance.

Lt Dassene, escort Mr Kolchak back to the nearest public deck, and ensure his access is restored to him tomorrow - for the Courtroom on Deck 7 only." He leaned in. "Unless you want to get on my bad side, Bubulah?"

The journalist blinked... and then stepped back, smiling again in concession. "The last cat I annoyed was my ex-wife's, and I still regret it; I'm not in a hurry to repeat that mistake with a larger-sized version of Mr Whiskers."

As Zir escorted Kolchak out, Hrelle turned back to Nam-Seon. "I'm sorry you had to see that, Commissioner."

She was putting away her PADD and other materials, smirking. "Given that the last time I was here, when another civilian annoyed you and you ended up urinating on his jacket, I think today's encounter was an improvement..."

*

Sasha had been readying herself to spend an hour perusing the records of the Away Mission on Kalandra... only to find it took five minutes - with four of those minutes looking for the rest of it. "What the frick-"

Across from her in her temporary office, Mori stopped fulfilling his role as Acting Senior Officer of the Katana ship and crew to glance up. "What's wrong?"

"The Away Mission on Kalandra is classified. I've got the bare bones, the basic facts, the audio recordings from the Away Team, but everything else: the reason for their mission, what they found down there, even the autopsies of the bodies they recovered later... they're redacted. Heavily redacted."

"Classified? Now, with the War ended? Why?"

"I don't know. Bill didn't know anything about it being classified at the time." Sasha frowned. "Starfleet Security Code 47: Disclosure to Relevant Flag-Level Officers Only."

"That high? Which officers?"

"It doesn't say. No specific individuals, no specific office."

"Admiral Quinn commanded the Seventh Fleet," he reminded her. "Maybe he's the relevant officer? He would have given the orders to send the team to Kalandra, after all."

Sasha ground her teeth. "He seems to have disappeared into a black hole. I've been trying to reach him, to see if he would be willing to offer a character witness for Bill, but I can't find him anywhere." Sasha rose to her feet, tapping her combadge. "Computer: Locate Lt Cmdr Maraud."

"Ltr Cmdr Maraud is in his office."

She grunted. "Stay here and carry on." She stormed towards the office door-

-Stopping only when Mori reached out and grabbed her hand. "Count to Ten before you walk in there. A cliché, I know, but it'll help, I'm sure."

*

"Yes, I know it's Classified. And?"

Sasha had followed Mori's advice, and it did calm her down. But Maraud's admission, and his attitude, threw her. "Why was it Classified?"

The Efrosian male shrugged, leaning against the front of his desk and crossing his arms. "The reasons for it being Classified are Classified."

"But who's responsible?"

"The identities of the flag officers who marked the account of the incident as Classified are-"