Surefoot 02: Imbarrazzo

But that life wasn't this one.

"I... do not comprehend Captain Arrington's behaviour," T'Varik admitted.

Hrelle grunted. "She's stepped in front of us, showing how big and intimidating she is. Ops, has there been any response to our repeated hails?"

"No, Sir."

He steeled himself. Fine, be like that, you bitch... "Go to Red Alert! Shields up, bring all weapons online, lock onto their bridge!"

The ship responded to his command automatically, as the klaxon sounded and the light strip running around the circular bridge over every station suddenly went to apple red. But the living components of his ship weren't automatic.

Until he roared, "NOW!"

Then he felt the crew jump into action, even as the tension and confusion multiplied, their collective training overcoming any hesitation they may have had over his orders.

"Shields up," Abed responded. "Phasers and photon torpedoes online, Sir! All weapons locked on their bridge!"

"Any response from the Impala?"

"They've raised shields, Sir, and- now there's an incoming hail!"

"As expected. Put it onscreen."

Seconds later, the image of the Impala was replaced by a bridge, similar to the Surefoot's but larger, the image focusing on its Captain's chair, and the middle-aged Terran female with copper hair and a rounder face than Hrelle remembered it. If he had been of a different frame of mind, he might think she looked handsomer now than when he last saw her years ago.

Until she opened her mouth. "Hrelle! What the hell are you playing at? How dare you lock weapons on another Starfleet vessel? I knew you couldn't be trusted-"

"Captain Arrington," he said calmly over the klaxon, "Welcome to our little part of the sector. And... thank you."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Why, for assisting us with a test of our Red Alert drill. We appreciate you deviating from your normal patrol, and hope it hasn't inconvenienced you too much."

She looked stunned, but then her scowl returned. "No. No, you won't get away with what you've done. I'll see to that!"

He made a show of appearing slightly hurt. "Oh. Well, perhaps you'd like to come aboard so we can discuss this matter, or any other you'd care to raise?"

"You bet I do!"

"Fine, I'll have my transporter officer liaise with yours and-"

She cut off her end of the transmission.

He relaxed, a little. "Cancel Red Alert, drop shields, release weapons lock on the Impala and secure from General Quarters. And have Cadet Arrington come to the bridge and await further orders. Don't tell him why."

The bridge crew visibly relaxed as well. Counselor Kami stepped down next to his chair, her voice low. "You okay?"

He nodded, looking to T'Varik. "I want you with me in the meeting, as a witness. Feel free to speak up at any stage if you believe it it's appropriate."

She nodded. "Will you meet Captain Arrington in the transporter room?"

"No," Kami spoke up now. "Make her meet you, on your terms."

Hrelle smiled. "Fine. But you get to escort her to my office. Think you can do it without killing her along the way?"

She drew up with mock indignation. "I am the very font of diplomacy, Captain, Sir."

*

Deck 1, Captain's Office:

Hrelle was sitting behind his desk, with T'Varik standing beside him, as the door slid open, and Kami entered, with Captain Arrington - and a security guard Hrelle didn't recognise. The woman nodded towards Hrelle. "There, Mr Esbirro. Arrest him."

Hrelle folded his hands on top of his desk, his voice and expression still genial. "That seems a rather extreme greeting, Captain."

"It is also without foundation or legality," T'Varik informed her.

Arrington glared back. "Who the hell are you?"

"I the hell am Commander T'Varik, the First Officer."

"Well, I'd think a Vulcan would be the first one to recognise that attempting to attack another Starfleet vessel is a court martial offence!"

"No offence has been committed by Captain Hrelle. Indeed, he has followed Starfleet regulations."

"Excuse me?"

"General Order 12: When approaching a vessel with which communication has yet to been established, all Starfleet vessels are to maintain maximum safety precautions, regardless of the origin of said vessel, be it a foreign power, a hitherto unknown ship, or a Starfleet vessel."

"I still remember reading about the incident involving Admiral Kirk encountering a commandeered USS Reliant," Hrelle reminisced, as if they were sitting around a table making small talk. "Many lives were lost at that time because he disregarded that Order. Definitely not one of his more laudable moments. You performed your part in the role of the aggressor perfectly, Captain."

T'Varik folded her hands behind her back. "It has been recorded that you repeatedly refused to respond to our hails, and that your ship took a hostile stance against ours. You may still wish to file a complaint with Starfleet Command, but the resulting investigation will decide in our favour - and of course they will be made aware of your original reasons for contacting us." She raised an eyebrow. "As will your own crew."

Arrington's face tightened, then she glanced at her security guard. "Wait outside for me."

"Yes, Ma'am."

As he left, Arrington added, nodding towards Kami, who was leaning against a nearby wall, tail lazily swishing behind her. "Send your Counselor out."

He leaned back in his chair. "She's aware of everything, as is my First Officer."

"Well, I want her out!"

Kami folded her arms across her chest. "Well, I want you to kiss my furry ass, but we can't have everything we want in life."

"I will remind you, Captain," T'Varik interjected, as calmly as ever. "That Captain Hrelle is in command of this vessel."

Arrington's face screwed up in disgust. "This pathetic little barge barely qualifies as a vessel." Now Arrington sneered at Hrelle. "Are you content to let your women fight your battle, Pretty Kitty? I don't know how your wife ever put up with you."

"I was an amazing fuck. Now, what really brings you to our neck of space?"

Arrington scowled - Hrelle wondered if that had been her default expression all her life - and made a dramatic show of gathering her strength to announce, "You know why I'm here! I want to have a private word with my nephew. I was happy to do so over a subspace channel, but you forced me to come here."

Hrelle nodded. "You should look up the definition of 'forced', it might surprise you. Still, I'd be more than happy to fulfil your request. But... you haven't said the Magic Word."

She was almost shaking with barely-controlled fury. Through clenched teeth, she declared, "If you think you're gonna make me meow for you, you son of a bitch-"

"Meow?" He shook his head. "Of course not. The Magic Word is 'Please'. It's always 'Please'." He rose to his feet, walked around the desk and faced her, making her remember how taller he was compared to her. "I'm not so petty as to humiliate you the way you did me - and are still trying to do. I wouldn't demand that; I've suffered far worse than anything you could ever have done or could do to me.

But I do demand respect. No more, no less. Respect for me, for my crew, for my ship. If any of that is beyond your capabilities... leave. We have a mission to Luntanu."

Arrington steeled herself once more, shooting glances at T'Varik and Kami, before finally offering, "Please."

He turned and nodded to Kami, who departed. Arrington glared at him. "Enjoy your little victory while you can, Hrelle."

He frowned at her. "This is no victory, Lucille. Really. I've found that after twenty-five years, you remain a petty, spiteful little cow, still acting like we're back at the Academy. There's no growth, no maturity, no repentance. Nothing. It seems like such a waste. I should hate you. But as a wise friend reminded me, I should not allow my past experience to affect my present behaviour."

The door slid open again, and Kami entered with Giles Arrington.

Hrelle looked to T'Varik. "Let's give them some privacy." In the corridor, he asked Kami, "When they're done, escort the Captain and her guard back to the transporter room. Commander T'Varik and I will be on the bridge."

"Aye, Sir." She was smiling.

He reminded himself to ask her about all this later, as he walked alongside his first officer. "I hope I redeemed myself back there."

"Redemption is not mine to bestow, Captain. However, I can confirm that you behaved within the parameters expected of you, particularly given the provocation. I must confess I initially had doubts as to your account of the harassment you received when you were a cadet; having met the woman now, however, such doubts have eroded. Rest assured, had I been an instructor at the time, harassment such as you undoubtedly received would not have occurred."

He was smiling. "Thank you. And I hope you don't mind my reference to you being a 'wise friend'."

"Vulcans are naturally reticent about labels such as 'friend', with their emotional connotations. However, I cannot disagree with the adjective 'wise'."

He shot her a look, though he knew better than to ask if that was a joke.

*

Giles was dumbstruck with seeing his aunt, especially when it dawned on him that she was most likely involved with the Red Alert, something that had shocked him and the rest of Alpha Squad from a game of Double Jack in the rec room. He came to attention, her familial connection suppressed by duty. "Ma'am, Cadet Giles Arrington reporting as ordered!"

She smiled. "At ease, Giles. I am still your Aunt Lucille." She approached, clasping him by the shoulders and squeezing. "How are you doing onboard this heap, and with him?"

"Um- Um, I'm fine. My Squad's a good group, and my supervisor-"

"Has he been harassing you? Threatening you?"

"You mean Captain Hrelle?" He recalled the Naughty Step punishment on his first day, and the subsequent time in the brig on his first night. But after the private talk he'd had with Hrelle, he realised what an ass he'd been to the man, and regretted his hurtful remarks. "No. Not in the least."

Lucille studied him, as if maybe he'd been conditioned to say all that. "I'm sorry you weren't posted with me; you know I tried. I'm even sorrier that you're stuck with that traitor as a commanding officer, but he obviously has too much influence with the organisers of the Program." Now her hand moved up to his face, cupping his cheek and patting it. "But this can work to our advantage."

Confusion etched his features. "Um, Aunt Lucille, I don't understand-"

Her voice dropped to a murmur, even though they were alone in the room. "I've been talking with the rest of the family, and we've agreed that you should stay onboard, for a while longer anyway. Stay... and watch."

"Watch? For what?"

"For anything he does that's against regulations, anything suspicious. Anything we can use to bring to Starfleet Command so that they can finally recognise what a mistake it was to accept him back into our ranks."

His heart had begun to race. She wanted him to spy on Captain Hrelle? Was she serious? "Um... I thought he had been cleared of any wrongdoing?"

Her face hardened. "There's a difference between finding someone cleared, and having no evidence of wrongdoing by them; Hrelle is definitely in the latter camp. Now think about it: he was declared a hero, could have had any number of high-profile postings. But he's chosen to take this insignificant posting, obviously to operate without oversight. But having you here, watching him, we can gather evidence to use against him."

She knelt, lifting up one of the legs of her trousers, reaching into her boot and withdrawing a small black rectangular box with a dull silver mesh flip-up top. She rose again and handed it to him. "This is for you. We were going to arrange to deliver this to you at a scheduled stop in Adhafera at the end of the month, but Hrelle has unwittingly given us this opportunity to get it to you sooner."

He accepted it, examining it. "It looks like an old-fashioned Starfleet communicator."

"Yes, and anyone who examines it will think it's just another antique. But your brother's office in Starfleet Intelligence has modified it to send messages that are encrypted and undetectable by standard Starfleet equipment, and possesses a range of twenty light years. You can send audio or data streams, and they'll bounce through the subspace buoys undetected to get to me. It's even keyed to your biometric pattern so that no one else will discover its secrets."

He stared at it, before looking up at her again. "I- I don't know if I can do this. I talked with him, he told me his story-"

"Yes, and I'm sure he painted a picture of himself as innocent, a victim of circumstance and conspiracy, the tragic hero. Don't believe him. There is far more going on that you can imagine, Giles. Starfleet, maybe the very Federation itself, is counting on you." Now she straightened up. "Consider this an order, Cadet, orders no one else is to know about. Do you understand?"

He looked to the device, then to his aunt, and then to... what? Betray his captain? Could he do it?

"Giles!" she snapped.

"Yes!" He swallowed. "I'll... I'll do it, Ma'am."

She smiled. "Of course you will..."

THE ADVENTURES OF THE SUREFOOT WILL CONTINUE IN... FIELD TRIP