Welcome to my website, detailing the adventures of Captain Esek Hrelle, his family, and the crew and cadets of his starship, the USS Surefoot. These stories are set in the 2360-70s, the Next Generation/DS9/Voyager Era.

When I wrote the first story, The Universe Had Other Plans, in the far off distant year of 2016, I never intended it to be a "first" story of anything. It was meant to be a one-off, a means of helping me fight writer's block on another project. I am amazed and delighted that it has taken on a life of its own, with an extended family of characters, places, ships and events.

The column on the right hand side groups the stories chronologically by significant events in Captain Hrelle's life (such as the command of a new Surefoot), as well as major events in the Star Trek timeline. The column on the left hand side lists reference articles, one-off stories, and a link to stories set on the USS Harken, a ship from decades before but with ties to the Surefoot Universe.

The universe of Star Trek belongs to CBS/Paramount; all of the original characters here belong to me. There is no explicit sexual content, but there are instances of profanity, violence and discussions of adult subject matters and emotional themes; I will try to offer warnings on some of the stories, but sometimes I forget.

I love comments (I don't get paid for this, sadly), so feel free to write and let me know what you think!

Sunday 11 December 2016

Field Trip


28,569 Words

 USS Surefoot, Deck 1, Mess Hall/Lounge, 0800 Hours:

Commander T’Varik stood beside the display screen at the far end, her voice at a level that made no concession for any of the assembled cadets who might not have been giving the First Officer their full attention. “We are currently in orbit around Planet L-802/4, designated as Luntanu by the original survey ship in this sector forty-two standard years ago. It is Class-M, possesses two small natural satellites aiding in tidal generation, and is currently uninhabited by indigenous intelligent lifeforms, but six years ago the Federation Archaeology Council established an ongoing research outpost here following the discovery of the ruins of an ancient civilisation.”

She paused, before continuing. “This is all you will be told; any onboard data about the planet has been encrypted. The rest, you must discover yourselves, during your first Away Mission. Each of the three cadet squads will employ one of the Surefoot’s Type-6 shuttles to travel to pre-selected coordinates on Luntanu, set up individual base camps, and conduct initial scientific surveys. The depth and focus of these surveys will be at the discretion of your Squad Leaders, but I expect the final reports to adhere to the Academy standards as detailed in the acronym FACT: Factual, Accurate, Concise and True.

You will have 24 standard hours from the time of your launch to perform your mission, return and provide me with your completed reports. You will be responsible for selecting and requisitioning the supplies and equipment you will need for the duration of your mission; once you leave the Surefoot, you will not be permitted to request anything more.”

At the front of the cadets, the three Squad Leaders - Sasha Hrelle, the human leader of Alpha Squad; Jared Miro, the Argelian leader of Beta Squad; and Falok, the Vulcan leader of Gamma Squad - shot glances at each other, but remained rapt to T’Varik’s continued briefing.

“Although this is a primarily scientific Away Mission, the other contingents of your respective Squads - Command, Flight Control, Security, Medical and Engineering - will be expected to fully assist, as well as demonstrate proficiency in their respective fields. Are there any questions?”

Sasha raised a hand. “How much supervision will we be receiving?”

“None, Ms Hrelle. You will operate without any intervention from your supervisors, or any access to the main computers of the Surefoot. I will be awake and available to receive scheduled status updates or respond to any emergency calls over the following 24 hours.”

“Twenty-four hours, Commander?” Jared asked with a teasing grin. He was tall, slim, dark, well-built, with drawn-black coal hair and full lips. “Will you be living on coffee the whole time? That hardly seems per standard operating procedure.”

Sitting beside T’Varik, Captain Hrelle was leaning back in his chair, absently stroking the fur on the tips of his leonine ears and allowing his second in command to control the proceedings. Now, the Caitian spoke up. “Are you volunteering to remain behind and assist the Commander? Because I’m sure we can arrange that.”

Jared paled and lost his slyness. “No, Sir.”

“Vulcans are capable of remaining at optimum efficiency for an indefinite number of days, Mr Miro,” T’Varik proceeded dryly. “And without the need for caffeine-based products. While I remain on standby for updates and emergencies from yourselves, the permanent crew of the Surefoot will be engaged in a number of other missions, including the retrieval and transport of archaeological relics from the outpost, delivery of supplies and communications, and running medical and diagnostic check-ups of the outpost’s crew and their equipment.”

On Sasha’s left, Cadet Falok, a dark-skinned Vulcan male, straightened up slightly. “When will our mission commence?”

“Your Away Mission begins on Stardate 55257.77 - in 1.91 hour’s time. You must have everything you need onboard your respective shuttles and be on your way by then.”

He raised an eyebrow in response. “Gamma Squad has only just completed their duty shift. As you have already stated, Vulcans can operate without sleep, but I am the only Vulcan. The schedule would appear to put my squad at a disadvantage.”

T’Varik raised her own eyebrow. “It would be illogical to assume that all Starfleet missions would be subject to your work schedule, Mr Falok, unless of course you are requesting your Squad have less time for the exercise, in order to have a nap?”

Aware of but ignoring the titters from the other cadets, Falok straightened further. “That will not be necessary, Commander.”

“Excuse me, Ma’am,” Jared spoke up again. “Is this a competition between the squads? I mean, will there be points and a prize and-”

“I am aware of the components of a competition, Mr Miro,” T’Varik noted archly. “I had believed the pursuit of knowledge and experience would be a reward in and of itself. However, if making it a competition would be a further incentive, I will assess each squad’s overall performance based on their adherence to Starfleet procedure, the completion of the objectives, the quality and quantity of the data gathered, and the final report compiled. As for a prize… Captain?”

Hrelle folded his hands on his belly and raised his muzzle up, as if baring his furred throat to the group. Then he snapped back to stare at them with his dark bronze feline eyes. “How about the winning squad gets an extra week’s worth of replicator credits, to be used individually or as a group, for food, goods or a combination of both?”

T’Varik nodded. “That would be acceptable.”

“Oh, and we’ll lift the restrictions on replicating intoxicants,” he added.

The Vulcan ignored the cheers from the cadets. “That will not be acceptable. Starfleet Academy Regulation 118: ‘Cadets before their fourth year of study are forbidden from consuming legal intoxicants, either on or off Academy grounds, regardless of age or legal status, except in accepted situations involving cultural or religious activities.’”

Hrelle looked to the cadets, shrugging. “Sorry, kids.”

T’Varik returned to the group. “Your mission begins in 1.86 hours. I would strongly advise you not to procrastinate. Dismissed.”

The cadets became an excited mass of questions, declarations, boasts, promises and denials. Sasha’s brain was moving at Warp Ten, as she began planning ahead, thinking about all those times she had practised for missions like this.

It would help if she wasn’t distracted by the enticing Jared, who was smirking. “Your Dad didn’t try very hard to get the alcohol restrictions lifted, did he?”

Sasha frowned; any criticism of her father immediately got under her skin, even from someone as… attractive as Jared. “It’s not his fault, T’Varik has final say over the cadets.”

“I for one agree with the judgement,” Falok noted, drawing closer to join his fellow Squad leaders. “Intoxicants would be a waste of replicator credits.”

Jared looked up at him. “I bet your squad thinks differently. Don’t Vulcans ever get drunk?”

“Vulcans do possess potables to commemorate special occasions. However, the concept of intentionally ingesting consumables to deliberately lower judgement levels and promote loss of inhibition is highly illogical.”

“Sounds like you’re missing the point of getting drunk.”

“Very possibly. I will however bask in such wilful ignorance.” He nodded to each of them. “I wish success for both of you.”

As he left them, Jared smiled at Sasha. “We have to find something to loosen him up a little, if only for the sake of his squad.” Then he frowned. “No point in talking to you, your head’s already at the Quartermaster’s Office. Good luck, Sash.” Then he leaned in and whispered, “I’ll see you before we go.”

Sasha caught a strong whiff of cologne from the cadet, and felt her temperature rise, before she was thankfully distracted by the approach of the rest of Alpha Squad.

Neraxis slapped her boisterously on the back, the Bolian’s blue face bright with excitement. “Well, Boss, why are we standing around here? Shouldn’t we be, I don’t know, getting ready to leave?”

“We already are,” Sasha murmured, looking around to make sure none of the other squad members were nearby, as she formed her own into a circle, her voice low. “Jonas, this week you were working on the diagnostics for the auxiliary sensor array in the secondary hull. You set up a link to your work PADD to continue in your off-duty time. Do you still have that link?”

Engineering cadet Jonas Ostrow, a short, slight human male with wide doe eyes and silvery hair, nodded. “Yes, why?”

She indicated Giles Arrington, standing on her right. “If Giles heads down to the shuttlebay now to do the pre-flight checks, he can access the landing coordinates that have been programmed in. And if he passes them onto you, you can use the auxiliary sensors to scan that area and give us an idea of the terrain and climate to expect, so I can requisition appropriate equipment. Kit, you assist Jonas; you’ve been working on planetary models on the bridge science stations, so you can analyse the readings more efficiently.”

Beside Jonas, Kitirik, the Qarari Science cadet, nodded, his mottled, olive-drab reptilian skin flushing under his neck with anticipation as he nodded at her. “Yes, Respected Squad Leader. We will be most informative.”

“The rest of you, follow me, we’re heading straight to the Quartermaster.”

Eydiir, the tall, dark Capellan Medical cadet, eyed her with curiosity that could be mistaken for suspicion in anyone else. “Shouldn’t you prepare a formal requisitions list beforehand?”

Sasha held her PADD in hand, but used it to tap the side of her own head. “I’ve been preparing since I was ten, playing Away Mission with my Dad. I know the basics of what we need.”

“Ten, huh?” Neraxis quipped. “That’ll mean lots of ice cream and popcorn.”

“You have a problem with that?” Sasha countered with a smile.

*

Deck 3, Cargo Bay:

The Quartermaster’s office and the adjacent cargo bays were pandemonium, as cadets moved here and there, lifting and dropping cases and crates of various sizes and shapes, while the Quartermaster herself, a short, squat Rigellian female named Zhastaan, took great delight in refusing every request for supplies from the Squad Leaders that wasn’t completed to the most precise standards expected.

Sasha held back with her squad, typing furiously into her PADD, determined to go to Zhastaan the one time and the one time only, with every metaphorical T cross and every I dotted - though she wasn’t quite sure how that old saying applied any more with all this smart technology. On the other hand, judging from the delays the other squads were having in getting their requisitions approved, it wasn’t smart enough.

Then Sasha’s combadge chirped; she smacked it so hard she made her breast ache. “Well?”

“It’s Jonas here. Giles has given us the coordinates in our shuttle, and Kit and I have-”

“We’re on a deadline, Jonas. Tell me about our base camp - and make it concise.”

Now Kit’s voice responded. “Respected Squad Leader, the coordinates are in an Arctic tundra, current temperature -10 Centigrade but expected to drop to -40 Centigrade at nightfall-”

“Acknowledged. You two get down here and help with the carrying. Sasha out.” She focused on her PADD. “There, now we’ll be equipped with cold weather gear, shelter reinforcements and heaters.”

Eydiir raised her chin. “Is this not cheating? Should we not face the challenges set before us with honour?”

Sasha grunted. “Your people live in an equatorial desert, you’ve never even seen snow or ice. Honour isn’t going to keep our boobs and bits from catching frostbite. And it’s not cheating, it’s The Art of Being Sneaky.” She ran a quick final check over the list, the authorisation codes, dates and references, and proceeded forward. Alpha Squad was going to win this. She’d make sure of that.

She took some delight in the reaction on the Quartermaster’s face to a perfectly completed requisition order. Ten minutes later, they were carrying the required equipment by hand or via antigrav handles to the shuttlebay, as quickly and discreetly as possible so as not to alert the other squads about the nature of their specialised gear.

They were returning to their quarters for their personal gear when Sasha started at the appearance of Jared, just around the corner. “Sash, the Squad Leaders have some final orders from T’Varik.”

Sasha’s pulse raced, but she kept her cool and nodded, looking to her Squad. “I’ll be along directly.” She kept her pace quick beside Jared as they moved around the circular corridor until they were out of sight, before Jared entered, not any expected area, but the Laundry Recycler room.

Once inside, Jared pulled Sasha into a kiss, his hot, full lips grinding hard against her own, pressing Sasha against the wall behind her as his tongue entered. Sasha sent her own tongue in reply, her head spinning as much by the kiss and the feel of the man against her, as by their secretive relationship, one which had blossomed since their arrival on the Surefoot weeks ago.

She had met Jared in the weeks before their final acceptance in the AWE Program. The young man was Argelian, a humanoid species that was said to be devoted to love and hedonistic pleasure, to the point where they needed to outsource much of their legal and administrative work to off-worlders. But Jared proved as sharp as he was… charming. Once onboard the Surefoot, they would meet, ostensibly to discuss their new roles, and initially alongside Falok.

Then they began meeting more privately, in the study rooms or the library when no one else was around. It was Jared who made the moves: taking her hand and squeezing it, stroking the borders of Sasha’s hairline, kissing her, making Sasha’s heart flutter in ways she never expected. She had feelings, of course, like anyone else, but until recently had been content to focus on her work; the regulations against sexual relations between cadets before their final year was also an exigent factor, even though Sasha and Jared were both legal adults under Federation law.

After that, it was a task to keep their relationship a secret from the crew and their fellow cadets. But it was worth it.

But damn it, she couldn’t be doing this! Not now! She pushed Jared back. “We have to get going- both of us-”

The Argelian smiled and licked his lips, looking as flushed as Sasha felt. “I know. But I also know we might be setting up our bases near each other. Maybe we can meet down there alone?” His hands reached up and took Sasha’s in her own. “A rendezvous under two moons… can you imagine it?”

Sasha could, though she knew that if Jared’ squad was near where Sasha knew they were going, and it did drop to -40 Centigrade at night, then their chances of getting undressed to do anything was going to be zero. Now she felt guilty about not mentioning the intelligence she had obtained - but quickly forced that guilt down. “We’ll see. We have to be careful down there.”

A sly glint shined in Jared’ eyes. “Not with T’Varik and everyone else staying onboard.”

“Do you trust your squad not to say anything?”

“Do you trust yours?”

“Yes, of course - but I don’t want to put them under the pressure of choosing between loyalty and the truth.”

“How melodramatic,” Jared teased, though there was recognition of the merit in Sasha’s statement. “Then you’d best get your gorgeous little rear end going.”

But she still came in for a kiss goodbye, a kiss that lingered once more, especially as she felt him pressing against her down there, proof of his desire for her, a further galvanic charge to her own feelings.

Back with her squad, Sasha could swear they all knew what she had really been up to. But their imminent mission quickly took precedence.

*

Deck 3, Shuttlebay, 0955 Hours:

Neraxis swallowed as she looked around the interior of their shuttle. Such as it was: every space not taken up by seats was allocated to their equipment. “How long will it take to get to base camp?”

In the pilot’s seat, Giles never looked up from his pre-flight checks. “About forty minutes.”

“I should probably go to the toilet again before we leave.”

“We’d appreciate it.”

The Bolian stepped out, almost running into Sasha and the others, carrying their personal belongings as well as the last of the equipment for the Away Mission. Sasha frowned. “Where the hell are you going?”

“Toilet, be right back, promise.”

Neraxis bolted, as Sasha called after her, “We leave in five minutes, whether you’re onboard or not! I swear to your Gods I’ll do it!”

“Harsh. Glad you’re not my commander.”

Sasha turned at the new voice to face Hrelle, standing nearby with a black satchel in one hand, and forced the exasperation and anger from her face. “Dad- I mean, Captain, I mean- what’s wrong? Is something wrong?”

He approached her, smiling. “Nothing’s wrong, Runt of the Litter, calm down. I just wanted to say goodbye before you go off on your first Away Mission.” He held up the satchel. “And to give you this.”

“What is it?”

“A little something. Don’t open it until you get settled in tonight.”

“Okay, thanks.” She reached for the bag, adjusting the ones she was already carrying.

Now he drew in, pressing his muzzle against her forehead in the Caitian approximation of a parent-child kiss. “Have fun, Sasha.”

“Yeah, sure-”

“Seriously… have fun. You’ll always remember your first.”

“I’m back,” Neraxis called over to her, as she rushed into the shuttle.

Hrelle backed off. “Now go, before I get verklempt.”

Sasha nodded distractedly, starting to turn away - but then returned and gave him the best hug she could, what with all the things she was carrying. Then she drew back and entered the shuttle.

As the doors closed, he called in, “And don’t eat yellow snow!”

*

The shuttlebay doors opened out into space, the invisible forcefield in place allowing slow-moving vessels to seep in and out while retaining the atmosphere within. Alpha Squad’s shuttle slipped out into the void and towards the orange-green planet spinning slowly before them.

Sasha sat in the copilot seat beside Giles as he hailed their mother ship. “Surefoot, this is Shuttle One, we’ve passed through the atmospheric field and we’re on our way.” Sasha nodded absently to herself, appreciating that Giles seemed as good a pilot as he always claimed.

Behind them, the other Squad members sat, surrounded by equipment that wasn’t as securely fastened down as they should have been. Neraxis elbowed a heating unit that was getting overly familiar with her. “Damn it, I hate the cold.”

“I love it,” Jonas confessed, playing with his engineering tricorder. “Hyralin was pretty distant from its sun, so we always had long winters. Snowball fights, snowmen, skating, sledding, being out all day and coming home blue in the fa-” He paled, looking at Neraxis, almost squeaking, “Sorry.”

The blue-skinned Bolian raised her middle finger at him, as Kit watched the exchange with curiosity. “Friend Eydiir, I have witnessed many instances where that hand gesture has been used by humanoids. Is it always employed in an obscene manner?”

“Yes, as a representation of the phallus, and an unspoken invitation for its penetration, usually in an excretory orifice,” Eydiir replied absently, holding her kleegat, a throwing weapon of her people. “There are variations with two or more fingers, but the representation is the same.”

“Is it meant to be taken literally?”

“Most visual and verbal obscenities are not. Especially when delivered by someone such as Neraxis.”

“You have a problem with me, girl?” the Bolian challenged teasingly.

“Yes. You are far too facetious and immature for someone in such an important role as Security.”

Neraxis stuck out her tongue in reply and blew a raspberry.

Kit pointed at the display. “A representation of flatulence, yes?” He beamed. “We do that too!”

At the front of the shuttle, Giles started muttering, “This is wrong.”

“What is?” Sasha asked.

“The coordinates I was looking at before… they’ve changed now.”

“Changed? Are you sure?”

“Yes! I’ve checked the flight recorder, the Surefoot just sent us new coordinates as we were departing! They want us to go to a new location!”

“Where?” Sasha didn’t wait for an answer, calling up the coordinates herself and matching them with the sensors in the shuttle. “It’s on the planet’s equator, in the middle of a jungle!”

“Marvellous!” Kit declared, listening from the rear. “I had hoped to visit there during our stay! The temperatures can reach 50 degrees Centigrade!”

Angrily Sasha opened hailing frequencies. “Shuttle One to Surefoot. Why have you changed our landing coordinates? Has something gone wrong?”

The voice of her father filled the shuttle interior. “No. We never intended to send you to the colder regions of this planet.”

She frowned to herself. “Then why-”

“Because Sometimes the Universe Has Other Plans. And other times, it’s your commanding officer. Did you really think we wouldn’t detect you accessing the auxiliary sensors? Silly cubs. Have fun. Surefoot out.”

Sasha sat there in silence.

Then she let loose a string of particularly filthy proclamations.

Kit looked to Eydiir again. “Did our Respected Squad Leader mean what she just said about her father?”

The Capellan stared at her best friend. “Best not to ask at this time.”

*

USS Surefoot, Deck 3, Cargo Bay 1:

Captain Hrelle ignored the ache in his back to bend down, grasp the sides of the crate of duranium plating, and lifted, cursing inside. He should get himself an antigrav handle and make it easier for himself - except that none of the remaining members of his crew, currently making space here for the relics being beamed up from Luntanu, were using one. And yes, they were all younger than he was, but still-

“You should lift with your legs.”

He turned, the weight of the crate momentarily forgotten at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. “Excuse me, uh-”

It was a human female, middle-aged, olive-skinned, with a mass of curly black hair, freckled cheeks, a pert nose and wide cheekbones. She wore rough-hewn, sand-coloured civilian work clothes and boots, and a warm, genuine smile as she regarded him. “Your legs. You should lift with them. They look sturdy enough.”

Hrelle stared at her, lifting the crate up to rest it on one shoulder, holding it there with one arm, as if to challenge the notion that he couldn’t manage it. “You’re one of the Luntanu team, yes? I mean, of course you are, you’re not a crewman or cadet, and there’s no one else around for light-years, so by process of elimination, you must be, even I can work that out, and I’m definitely not the brightest star in the Quadrant.” He stopped and shook his head, having said all that in one breath.

She nodded, her smile becoming a grin as she approached. “Professor Barbara Gianopoulis. You’re obviously Captain Esek Hrelle.”

He nodded back, recognising her name from the mission briefing as the current leader of the archaeological team on the planet; to be honest, he recalled little else, being more focused on their other reason for being there: setting the three squads of cadets out on their first Away Mission on Luntanu, running planetary surveys. The woman’s scent reached his nostrils; it was pleasing. “My apologies, Professor, I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Regulations. Someone from our team needs to be here when the relics are beamed up, to check on their safety and security.”

“Of course, though I’d have thought that would have been a job for one of your people.”

She smiled. “I could say the same about you, moving around crates like a spacedock stevedore.” She nodded at it. “Isn’t that getting heavy?”

“What, this? I could lift a hundred of them,” he boasted, grunting as she shifted it on his shoulder again. “Maybe two hundred. I just don’t like showing off.”

“Obviously. You don’t mind if I help you with it? Just to make myself feel useful?”

Hrelle hefted it off his shoulder again, grunting once more. “Well, if you insist…”

Barbara and he continued assisting with moving more crates, clearing one secure area of the bay until the cargo transporter started beaming up the relics, Barbara checking each one as it arrived. As they did so, they made small talk, while Hrelle noted with approval that despite being the one in charge, Barbara wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty, figuratively or otherwise, a trait he appreciated.

Once they were done, he nodded to her. “I forgot to check what time you were running on planetside. Are you hungry?”

Barbara grinned. “Any time’s a good time to eat.”

And she proved it, tucking into a big plate of replicated ribs in a sticky honey sauce, making noises of unabashed delight, before wiping her mouth on a napkin and declaring, “I could almost join Starfleet just for this. Our replicators on Luntanu can’t produce anything of this quality.” She indicated a few as-yet-untouched ribs on her plate.

Hrelle sat opposite her, cradling a cup of coffee. “No thanks, I tried them once. No matter how careful I am, that sticky sauce somehow gets into my fur. In places you wouldn’t believe possible.”

She held up one of the ribs playfully, smiling. “Are you sure? I could promise to wash you down afterwards.”

He stared, smiling back. “No thanks, you go ahead. I like seeing a satisfied woman.”

“I’m sure you do.” She took back the rib. “But if there’s anything else I can tempt you with…”

He leaned back, regarding the look she was giving him. It had been a while, but… now he shook his head. He was imagining it. “So… what’s it like being an archaeology professor?”

Barbara was licking her fingers. “Do you really want to know?” She looked up at him again. “Or is that just an excuse to keep me around here?”

He sipped at his coffee, giving himself a moment. “Do I need an excuse?”

Her smile widened - but then something caught her eye, and she looked away. Hrelle followed her gaze. “Counselor!”

Kami was standing there, coffee in hand, looking at both of them in turn. “Captain… sorry to interrupt…”

He rose to his feet. “Counselor, allow me to introduce Professor Barbara Gianopoulis, head of the team at Luntanu. Professor, this is our Ship’s Counselor, Kami Shall.”

The Professor rose as well, holding out a hand. “Pleasure, Counselor.”

For a moment, Kami didn’t move to accept the hand. But then she responded, though Hrelle saw that there was a measure of forced propriety in her gesture. “Sorry to interrupt, Captain, just wanted to let you know the cadets have all landed safely and set up their various base camps around the lake.”

“Thank you. Did you want to sit with us? I was just-”

“No thanks.” She nodded at Barbara. “Nice meeting you.”

He watched her leave, before sitting down again, suddenly feeling awkward for some reason. “Apologies for that, Professor. She’s usually a lot more friendly than that.”

She shrugged, still smiling. “No need to apologise. So, what’s it like being a starship captain?”

He made an amused sound. “Do you really want to know? Or is that just an excuse to stay around here?”

She licked her fingers. “Do I need an excuse?”

“No,” he told her emphatically.

“I’d like to hear anyway.”

So he talked, surprising himself with how much he said, his mouth moving at Warp Ten as he went on about the Surefoot, and the cadets and Sasha and how proud he was of her, returning to his memories of her as a child, and of Hannah, and though he couldn’t keep the edge of sadness in his voice or his eyes, and he avoided much detail of her death and his time as a captive, still he talked, feeling comfortable with the woman sitting across the table from him.

Until he suddenly felt self-conscious. “I’m… I’m sorry, Professor-”

“It’s Barbara. What are you sorry about?”

“Well, you didn’t exactly ask for my life story.”

“Well, technically I did.” She smiled, reaching across the table and touching his hand, absently stroking the short fur on the back of it. “And I’m not rushing out of here so far, am I?”

His head spun, and he almost shuddered with pleasure at her touch. “Doesn’t look like it-”

Suddenly his combadge chirped, and he slapped it with annoyance. “Hrelle here.”

The voice of his First Officer responded. “Commander T’Varik, Sir. It is 1601 Hours.”

He rolled his eyes. He was on Beta Shift bridge duty! “Apologies, Commander, I’m on my way.” He slapped the comlink shut, looking to Barbara. “I’m sorry, I lost complete track of the time! I’ve kept you here for hours!”

The woman laughed softly. “I haven’t minded one bit - and not just because of the food. But… if you still feel guilty, you can make it up to me later, when you come visit our camp, and see how bad food can taste coming from thirty-year-old replicators.”

“I like a challenge. But I’m on duty until midnight.”

“An early breakfast, then? You can be there to see the suns rise.” A sly smile curled her lips. “And if it’d be more convenient, you can always beam down after your shift and sleep planetside. I’m sure I can find a place for you.”

His heart raced, blood pumped… everywhere it was supposed to go. In a slightly higher-pitched voice than normal, he rose. “I’d best escort you to the transporter room.”

His head was clearing somewhat as they walked around to the appropriate area; it was quieter now, emptier, with the cadets on the planet and the already-small crew pulling double duties in their absence. They entered the transporter room, finding it empty, as Hrelle expected, not needing someone manning it unless necessary. “I can do this. I’ll even get you down there in one piece.”

“Only if you promise to check me over later to make sure everything is where it’s supposed to be.”

Now he stopped, standing before her and staring. “I’m going to feel like every shade a fool if I’m wrong about this, because it’s been a long, long time, but… there is something going on between us, yes? I’m not just imagining it? Because if I’m saying all this and I got it totally wrong, I’m gonna find a hole to climb in and pull the covers up over me.”

Barbara smiled back, moving close and putting her arms around his waist, before rising slightly towards his muzzle and kissing it gently.

Hrelle dipped his head down into the left side of her face, drawing her scent in deeply as he nuzzled into her, purring against her skin and relishing her reaction.

Then he caught a scent from her he hadn’t picked up from a human female in a long, long time.

Mother’s Cubs…

He arrived on the bridge, somewhat calmer than before, as Commander T’Varik rose from the centre seat and faced him. “Was there a problem that delayed you, Sir?”

“Apologies for the tardiness, T’Varik, I was speaking with that professor from Luntanu.”

She nodded in understanding, proceeding to her own station to their right, Hrelle following. “Professor Gianopoulis is an accomplished archaeologist. I would not be amiss to engaging in an extended conversation with her myself before our departure.”

He smiled. “Yes. Me too.” Then he frowned, remembering Kami’s reaction to the woman. “Pity our Counselor didn’t seem to share the same enthusiasm.” When he saw a reaction in T’Varik’s expression, he was prompted to ask, “What is it?”

The Vulcan hesitated before replying, sotto voce. “I would not wish to be perceived as being, as humans say, ‘gossipy’, however it would be logical for you to have further information. Any negative attitude on the Counselor’s part might be symptomatic of her history with the Federation Archaeological Council.”

“History? What history?”

“Her late husband was a Starfleet security officer assigned to the Council, protecting ancient sites. He was killed eight years ago by raiders at one particular site. Her personnel records should provide more detail.”

The information struck him. He never knew that about Kami. She was always so forward, frequently annoyingly so; the idea that there was something like that in her past was… He resolved to speak with her later. “Thank you for letting me know.”

His attention returned to T’Varik’s station screens, which produced aerial scans of the three cadet landing sites, with thermal images and combadge signals identifying bodies standing still or milling about, while another panel recorded the combadge communications between the various squad members. “You told them there would be no supervision.”

“Supervision implies an interactive exchange. This is monitoring.”

“Oh, I see. Big difference. And how are they doing?”

The Vulcan was catching up with the collected data. “Beta and Gamma Squads have sent Away Team members out to collect the planetary data. Alpha Squad is still apparently offloading the Arctic weather equipment they brought with them.” She looked to him. “You were correct in your suspicion that they would try to determine more about their landing location. May I ask how?”

He smiled. “Whenever I would read Sasha a bedtime story, she would always sneak a peek ahead beforehand, to see what was going to happen, and prepare herself for it. She’d then tell me how she thought the story should end, and I would pretend to be all amazed at how clever she was for figuring it out.”

“And how do you believe she will react when they discover that their replicator will produce only Type 1 Rations?”

He chuckled, saying nothing.

*

Alpha Squad Base Camp, Planet Luntanu, 1030 Hours Local Time:

Sasha tried to swallow the bite of beef stroganoff bar in her mouth. She really tried. But a memory of the time when she was six and tried to eat dirt from a strawberry garden on Station Salem One returned, and she spat it out. “Eydiir, when we get back to the Surefoot and I see my father, I’ll want to borrow that Capellan throwing blade of yours.”

Her friend ignored her, helping to steady the portable toilet/sonic shower that Neraxis and Jonas had just set up, not too near the overnight shelters, though modern technology allowed for a completely hygienic experience within.

Sasha wiped the sweat from her forehead for the twentieth time since arriving as she glanced around the lush, verdant jungle environment where they had been sent. Leaves of a million shades of green and purple formed a canopy, criss-crossed with browning vines that hung limply in their centres. The shadows beyond were a cacophony of animal sounds, as if all were complaining about the oppressive heat being trapped within by the overwhelming plant life. The scents of the jungle were equally overwhelming.

She smacked herself in the face for the twentieth time too as another insect landed on her and started feasting. Little bastards.

“So,” Neraxis began, setting another heating unit down outside the shuttle. “Should I get these bad boys running so we don’t die of frostbite before nightfall?”

She ignored the joke from the Bolian, wishing they’d brought some other clothes than their uniforms and the cold weather suits. The material was designed to provide comfort over a wide variety of temperatures, but clearly no one had ever been to Luntanu, or they would have gone back to the drawing board. She cleared her throat and called out. “Okay, boys and girls, gather round.”

From inside and around the shuttle, the rest of her squad - Neraxis, Jonas, Giles, Eydiir and Kit - emerged and approached. “I want to get started as soon as possible. We’ll split up into two teams. Giles, you, Kit and Eydiir will run the Natural Sciences scans: Biology, Biochemistry, Botany, etc...”

“We should start at the lake, Respected Friends, life gathers well at bodies of water,” Kit suggested, pausing to look up, opening his wide reptilian mouth enough to let an impossibly long, bright pink extension shoot out, catch and retrieve an insect, swallowing quickly.

“I didn’t think your tongue was that long,” Jonas remarked, impressed.

Kit caught another insect before replying, “I have two tongues, Friend Jonas. My feeding tongue is far longer, and highly accurate after a lifetime of practice..”

“Please be my boyfriend,” Neraxis asked, grinning.

“You may wish to refrain from ingesting the local insects until we have run appropriate scans,” Eydiir informed the Qarari.

“She’s right, Kit, hold off for now,” Sasha continued, not in the mood for jocularity. “Take the appropriate science tricorders and specimen collection equipment. Giles, secure yourself a phaser. You’ll be in charge of your team.”

“He will?” Eydiir asked, her feelings clear.

“Yes, he will,” Sasha snapped. “And I want you to treat him the way you would treat me. My father trusts him… and so do I.”

Something curious crossed Giles’ face - was it embarrassment, or even shame? - but he recovered quickly, and they needed to get moving, as Sasha continued. “I’ll be leading Neraxis and Jonas over to the more open areas near the slopes to the south-west, running the Physical Sciences scans: geology, mineralogy, climatology. Neraxis will take the other phaser.

Both parties will also run additional scans on any ruins or other evidence of the former civilisation here, as and when you find them. Stay in contact every fifteen minutes. And watch out for the other Squads, from what we saw coming down, they’re in the general area too.”

“I would also recommend carrying water from the shuttle’s replicator unit,” Eydiir pointed out. “And I shouldn’t have to warn against eating or drinking anything native until proper biochemical tests have been-”

The Capellan stopped as Kit’s tongue shot out and grabbed another buzzing bug.

Everyone looked at him.

He made a visible show of swallowing. “They are delicious, Respected Friends. How bad can such delicious things be?”

*

USS Surefoot, Deck 2, Counselor’s Office, 2000 Hours Ship Time:

“Enter.”

Hrelle stepped inside, letting the door slide shut behind him. “Counselor, I-” He stared at her, before looking away. “Have I come at a bad time?”

She was sitting behind her desk, her feet up on it, leaning back in her chair with an old-fashioned book in her lap. She smiled. “No, the best time, actually. I need your help.”

Her musk was strong in her room, perhaps not enough for others with less keen senses, but… He entered. “With what?”

She wriggled her toes. “Rub.”

“Excuse me?”

“They’re aching, and I haven’t had a decent foot massage from a male in a long time.”

“Massage your feet? Kiss my furry ass!”

“Come on, don’t be a bastard. Think of it as therapy.”

“Therapy? For whom?”

She raised one foot, still wiggling the toes, beckoning him.

He shook his head and approached, sitting up on her desk while she set her feet on his lap. “I can’t imagine any other starship captain doing this.”

“Neither can I. And that’s why you’re the best.” She purred shamelessly as his fingers worked around her toes and pads. “That’s good. Nothing like a dirty book and a male working at your feet. The females of your clan taught you how to do this, didn’t they?”

He nodded. “The few that we had. All part of grooming a potential mate.”

“I can tell; my husband could make me melt from my toes upwards. A male who can work a female’s feet, neck or back is definitely going to be equally talented in all the other places.” She purred some more, and then finally asked, “So, what can I do for you, Captain? Shouldn’t you be on the bridge?”

“I’m on a meal break. Also, I’m the Captain, I can do what I want. And what I want now to check up on you.”

She raised an eyebrow as she set aside her book. “Me? What for?”

“Well…” Suddenly he wondered if he had made too much of her initial reaction to meeting Barbara. “You’re a part of my crew as well. I worry about you. After all, who counsels the Counselor if something is bothering her?”

“Not that I wouldn’t mind you staying here all day massaging my feet and babbling, but is there a point to all this?”

He breathed in. “Well, our current mission is with archaeologists at a planetary site, and given your… personal history-”

Then it seemed to dawn on her, given the change in her expression and voice. “You were worried about me. That’s sweet.” It could have been mocking, but she sounded sincere.

“I never realised until earlier that we shared that much in common: the loss of a partner in Starfleet. You never mentioned it.”

“Sometimes it’s good to share such things, to show a person they’re not alone in how they might be feeling. Other times, though, it can threaten to focus the attention on the doctor, not the patient.” She leaned back further; he could see her tail, slipped though the hole in the back of her chair, swishing about as she regarded him. “Are you here because I didn’t stick around with you and the Professor? Did you think I was upset over any memories I might have had about Rmorra resurfacing?”

He felt himself flush. “Well, I suppose-”

Kami smiled. “I left because it was obvious I was going to be unwelcome. You two were fascinated with each other, you didn’t need me around.”

“Fascinated? I wouldn’t say that. I mean, she’s interesting, of course, she’s had such an impressive career. Barbara’s led an expedition to find an Ikonian outpost in the Lambda Omicron Sector, she helped discover the Debrune ruins on Melvana II. She also paints in her spare time, and she-”

“No, you’re not at all fascinated with her,” Kami teased, growing serious again. “Is the Professor the first woman you’ve been attracted to since Hannah?”

His thoughts shifted, picturing his late wife, Sasha’s mother. It had been seven years, but he could still feel pangs of guilt at the notion of interest in other women. “Not the first,” he confessed cryptically.

Not that she didn’t know what he meant. She always knew. She smiled knowingly. “I mean, the first who wouldn’t reject you for professional reasons?”

“Yes.” He surprised himself with how easily he admitted it. He shook his head. “It- It just happened. No great moment hit me. It just… happened.”

Kami leaned back, her gaze taking on a distant quality. “That’s usually how it works. In the weeks, the months, after Rmorra died, people remarked about how well I was holding up. I wasn’t. We’d made love the morning before he went on duty, on that last day, and his scent was strong on the bed sheets and the pillow cases… and I never changed them.

I would return to our quarters after work and go straight to bed, filling my nostrils with his scent. I would lie there at night and talk to him. I’d touch myself, and imagine he was doing it. I wasn’t delusional; I knew he was dead, I had attended his funeral, comforted our cub, dealt with his clan and put all his affairs in order. But… I hadn’t quite let go.

And then one day… I did. There was no great revelation, no epiphany, no ghost of Rmorra returning to bid me move on with my life. It just happened. I wept as I gathered the sheets and pillow cases for the recyclers. I was sobbing like a cub.” She smiled wistfully. “Of course, it didn’t help that the sheets hadn’t been washed in literal months, and they stank. They’d have made a Vulcan cry.”

Hrelle leaned back as well. He thought he had let Hannah go during his time in captivity, believing that she would have moved on, thinking he was dead. He had been ready for that. But when he had freed himself, and had been informed that she had been killed in the raid on Salem One... A raid that had only come about about because of information he himself unwillingly supplied… He couldn’t recall any moment himself when he had finally moved on, though. Like his flirting with Barbara, it must have just crept up on him.

He rose. “Well, I’m sorry I bothered you for no good reason.”

Kami smiled up at him. “You were concerned for me; that’s always a good reason. And I got a foot massage out of it, too. You helped. Thank you.” She tilted her head. “What are you going to do about the Professor?”

“I’m going planetside at midnight, after my shift. We’re having a sleepover.”

Kami guffawed. “Sleepover? Are you gonna braid each other’s hair, eat ice cream and talk about boys?”

He grunted. “Seven Hells, I hope not. Thank you, Counselor.”

As he moved to the door, she called after him. “I expect full details when you get back! Locations, duration, positions, props, toys-”

“Toys?”

“Go down in some civvies, something she can take off you easily! And have a shower first! You don’t want your hands smelling of my feet!”

He stepped outside, no longer hungry, except for the next four hours to pass as quickly as possible…

*

Planet Luntanu, 1400 Hours Local Time:

Kit stopped for a fourth time that hour, excused himself, carefully set down his equipment, stepped to one side, bent over and vomited into the nearest bushes.

Giles looked away, but Eydiir approached. “I told you to stop eating the native insects.”

From his hunched over position, the Qarari raised his head to answer weakly, “I- I have, Friend Eydiir- I promise-”

“And yet, I do not believe you.” Eydiir knelt down beside him, running her tricorder first over his head, and then over his vomit. She reached down and moved her fingers through it. “As I suspected: this is too fresh to be from earlier consumption.”

“That is... incredibly disgusting,” Giles declared, wiping sweat off his brow with his sleeve. “How can you do that?”

“I would be useless as a medic if I allowed a disdain for the natural waste products that all living things produce to affect my work,” Eydiir replied absently, reading from her tricorder. “The insects contain a virus which is causing extreme gastronomic reactions in Kitirik; possibly it is a symbiotic relationship which has evolved between virus and insect, as a mutual defence against being consumed by predators.”

Giles set down the specimen case he was carrying, but kept his phaser in his other hand. “Virus? Is it serious? What about the rest of us?”

The Capellan fished through her medikit, withdrawing a hypospray and some vials. “The effects are only profound if the insects are eaten.” She pressed the hypospray against Kit’s neck. “There: an antiviral agent, along with some terakine for the stomach cramps. Drink plenty of water, Kit, and please try to refrain from eating more insects.”

Kit kept his head in the bushes and moaned pitifully, but nodded.

Eydiir packed her medikit and stood up. “There is a Rigellian on Beta Squad, and a Terrellian on Gamma Squad; they are unlikely to snack on the local insects, but their biochemistries may react in a similar extreme fashion as Kit has even if they are stung. I will transmit my findings to the other Squads.”

Finally Kit rose again, looking a little jaundiced but otherwise better than before. “Thank you, Respected Medic. I am ready to continue with our work.”

Eydiir frowned at him, but then nodded and looked at Giles. “Assist Kit while I make my report.”

Giles nodded, too hot and weak to point out to the woman that he was supposed to be in charge of this half of the team, and followed Kit deeper into the interior of the temple, or whatever the building had once been, switching on the torch application on his phaser to light the way.

The temple had lost its battle with the jungle; the immense black stones, piled in seemingly haphazard fashion but obviously showing signs of artificial adjustment and cosmetic alterations, were almost completely papered in layers of dirt, moss, vines and dark creeping things that moved if one looked at them for long. And the sectioned stone floors were covered in various forms of animal faeces, some more fresh than others. It was at least cooler in here.

And scarier. Giles recalled childhood horror stories, of ancient tombs on distant worlds that contained voracious monsters and death-worshipping cults and spirits who threatened those unlucky souls who venture into their territory. “Do your people believe in ghosts, Kit?”

Kit was a step ahead, holding out his science tricorder. “Our Behest, the directives which our Gods gave us, tell us that the spirits of our ancestors live around us, requiring us to conform to expected ideals, or they will suffer. As a member of the Seeker male gender, however, dedicated to the pursuit of reason and knowledge, I will remain open-minded. And you, Friend Giles? Do you believe in ghosts?”

He wiped more sweat from his eyes as he looked up at shadows that seemed to be moving along the tops of the walls. “I… I, uh…”

There was a horrible screeching noise that echoed along the corridor, and Giles yelled back, raised his phaser and fired. A bright blue beam struck the upper wall, making sparks blossom and sending a torso-sized chunk of the temple wall down.

Kit had turned, wrapping an arm around Giles’ waist as he pulled the other boy away from any more falling debris. The shrieks returned and seemed to multiply, as more things dropped from the ceiling… and began scrambling past the two cadets as they raced out into the jungle.

Giles aimed his phaser at them, but only to illuminate them. They were dog-sized primates with black fur and elongated limbs and a tail and flat faces, and they bounded away, around the legs of Eydiir as she caught up with the other two cadets. “What happened?” Then she saw the chunk of temple rock on the floor, the burning foliage clinging to the walls, and the phaser in Giles’ hand. “You fool! You damaged the native structure!” She took the phaser from his weak grasp and attached it to her belt. “Why was it not on a stun setting, as per procedure? What if you had struck an Away Team member?”

He didn’t answer, and the realisation struck him like a blow to the gut. She was right; he thought he had it on a stun setting, but must have absently raised it while they were exploring in the darkness, and he let his imagination run away with him. He could have hurt someone, or worse.

He had trouble catching his breath, and he felt dizzy. Before he realised it, he was teetering.

But Eydiir caught him, the Capellan easily holding him up.

“Friend Giles-” Kit started, concerned.

“Do not worry,” Eydiir assured him. “The idiot is just weak-” But then she stopped and examined him. “No. He’s suffering from heat exhaustion. Stay and put out the rest of the fires, I will take him outside to cool down. Be careful.”

Giles wasn’t sure what was happening, only that Eydiir led him outside and sat him down on a knee-high stone block, before removing his boots and socks, and reaching for the fasteners on the back of his uniform. “What- What are you doing-”

“Be silent.” Quickly but with only a little roughness, she slipped the top half of his uniform off, before raising him like a child to lower it down past his waist and legs, finally casting it aside and leaving him in sweat-soaked vest and shorts. He noted how, despite the valiant efforts of his uniform, an extended stay here was too much for the material.

Now she started to remove his underwear as well. “H-Hey, no-”

“I told you to be silent. Do so, or I’ll tranquillise you.”

He didn’t have the strength to protest further, as she stripped him completely, checked his canteen, found it empty, and then handed him her own. “Drink your fill, but slowly.”

He nodded weakly, but still protested, “It’s your water-”

“I am Capellan; we are a desert people. Should it become necessary, however, I will kill you and subsist on your blood. In the meantime, a tri-ox compound will assist you.”

Giles looked up, forgetting his embarrassment as he watched her open her medikit and withdraw a hypospray, loading it. “Better if you just gave me some cyalodin and finished me off.” He wiped at his eyes. “I’m sorry-”

She pressed the hypospray against his thigh. “Save your self-pity. You are not at fault; I am. I should have noticed your debilitated state sooner. I failed in my duty to you.”

He shook his head. “You were- were distracted about Kit, that’s all, and about letting the other squads know about the danger from the insects. No one’s perfect.”

“You are an obvious example of that.”

He looked up, certain he saw genuine amusement in the woman’s eyes. He had an impression of late that she was warming up to him, at least as much as the stoic Capellan did with anyone besides Sasha. “Thank you for helping me.”

“You are a member of our Squad. And… perhaps not as execrable as you once were.”

He smiled; that was practically a gushing compliment from her. Which only made him feel worse as his memories inevitably brought him back to weeks before, when his aunt, Captain Lucille Arrington of the Impala, visited him, giving him a secret mission: to watch Captain Hrelle, reporting on any evidence or suspicion of wrongdoing by him. It wasn’t something he wanted to do; his initial impression of the man, an impression forced upon him by his extended family, had been shaken following a private talk the Captain had with him. But Aunt Lucille’s argument had been persuasive, to the point where he gave in and finally agreed.

There had been nothing for him to report about Captain Hrelle since then. But that didn’t assuage his guilt that he was doing anything at all, and not telling anyone about it. He set down the canteen and reached for his shorts.

“Leave those,” she told him.

“I’m not walking around here naked on front of both of you.”

“Kitirik does not care. And I am a medical practitioner. I have seen many penises.”

“Good to know.” He rose, swaying slightly as he continued to dress. “I’m feeling better, really. That tri-ox shot helped.”

“Friend Giles!” Kit’s voice carried from within. “Friend Eydiir! Come look!”

They entered while Giles was still barefoot, finding Kitirik standing in a pile of dirt and smouldering foliage around his feet, and a delighted red flush in the loose folds of his throat. “Look, Friends! I was stripping the burning plants from the walls, and uncovered these!” He pointed his torch at the walls.

They looked. The surrounding stones had carvings: elaborate swirls and sigils and symbols, dug several centimetres into the rock, chipped and cracked in places, but more from age than from any damage Giles might have caused. They walked around slowly, taking it all in.

Giles grunted. “Good work, Kit. Hope you’re recording all this.”

“I will assist,” Eydiir offered, handing him back his phaser. “Go back outside and keep guard. If those primates return… don’t fire, just throw your phaser at them.”

He chuckled. “No argument there.”

“This is wonderful!” Kit exclaimed. “I hope the others are having as much fun as we are!”

*

Two kilometres away, on an uneven slope of ancient volcanic rock with pockmarks and bulges that looked like an enormous black sponge, Sasha, Neraxis and Jonas stood at the foot, staring up, breath held, watching, watching-

The rocks moved. Or rather, the newly-christened Shriekers perfectly camouflaged by the surrounding rock moved, triggering a wave of dizziness, as if the slope was undergoing a tremor.

The trio had been collecting Planetary Sciences data on the rocks and climate when they came upon the Shriekers, and Sasha had to suppress a wave of fear, as a childhood memory returned of her stepdad reading her an old story, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, with its flying monkeys attacking Dorothy and her friends. These creatures weren’t winged, and were probably not under control by a magical golden cap either, but she’d rather not get involved with them.

Beside Sasha, Neraxis had drawn her phaser, keeping it pointed at the ground. “Well, Boss? Ready to make First Contact?”

Sasha turned and opened her mouth to reply - when something hot and mushy like a mud pie struck her in the face and entered her mouth. She spun, tripped over her boots and fell, covering her head with her arms before striking the ground, as the air filled with the howls and cries of the Shriekers. She felt more clumps of mud strike her body repeatedly, before the chaos ended with a repeated phaser whine.

Hands grabbed her and helped her up, but she was choking as some of the noxious, gritty material went down her throat. She stayed doubled over, as someone - Jonas, she concluded - kept her steady. But she finally forced herself to straighten up and wipe the malodorous mud from her face… fully aware that it wasn’t mud.

She looked across to see Neraxis, splattered as much as Jonas and herself, firing upwards, striking rocks and sending the Shriekers scrambling in waves further up the slope. Then the Bolian looked to Sasha. “You okay?”

She coughed again. “I will be, once Jonas gets his hand off my boob.”

Beside her, the young man glanced down, and made a yelp as he released her. “Sash! I’m sorry, I didn’t realise- I’m sorry! Really!”

Neraxis approached, wiping her blue, bald head, succeeding only in spreading more of the Shrieker filth. “Ooh, Scrappy, you’re gonna have to marry her now.”

“Shut up.” Sasha felt sick, reaching for the canteen on her belt and swallowing half its contents. “I swallowed monkey shit.”

The Bolian gave off a belly laugh. “Was it better than the rations?”

Sasha spat, trying to wipe what was left off her face, before answering with a particularly filthy Orion curse.

“Do you kiss your lover with that mouth?”

Sasha turned and looked down at the question, as members of Beta Squad emerged from the jungle, and led by Jared Miro. A rush of pleasure ran through Sasha despite her circumstances; she knew the other two squads were camped at different points around the lake, but had been so busy trying to salvage her own Away Mission that she hadn’t thought about Jared.

The handsome young man, a humanoid from the pleasure-driven world of Argelius, had swept Sasha off her proverbial feet, with his breath-taking good looks, his accent, that sensual look in his dark eyes… but though they were both legal adults under Federation law, Academy Regulation 121 prohibited sexual activity before their senior year. It was a stupid, archaic regulation, made even more ridiculous when applied to the candidates of the AWE Program, continuing their studies while serving onboard starships.

Still, they weren’t on the starship now. They were on their own, away from prying eyes.

Oh my… She smiled back. “Hi there.”

Jared strode right up to her. “You have faeces in your teeth.”

“And her hair,” Neraxis added helpfully. “And probably down the collar of her uniform and in her bra.”

The Argelian boy laughed softly. “Sash, as much as I want to make love with you tonight, you’ll definitely have to clean up first.”

Sasha felt her stomach drop at his bold admission, in front of her friends, and she glanced at them. Neraxis looked amused, but Jonas pretended to find something interesting on his tricorder.

Sasha drew closer to Jared, muttering tightly, “What the hell are you saying?”

Jared appeared nonchalant, still speaking at his normal volume. “The truth. We love each other. We want to express that love. If we weren’t cadets, we would have been grinding together long before now.”

“My squad doesn’t know about us!”

He shrugged mischievously. “They do now.”

Sasha’s head spun, appalled by his actions. How could he have done that without asking first? “Jared-”

But Jared ignored her, turning to the rest of Beta Squad. “Ingalls, Pruhl, get those samples from the pools over there. Chaudri, Thykrill, scout ahead, see if you can find an easy route to that other temple.” He smiled again at Sasha as he added, “And Thykrill, keep your phaser drawn, we don’t want to end up with a faeces facial, too.”

As his Squad move to obey, he looked more contrite. “I’m sorry, Sash. I couldn’t help myself. I just feel so free and unfettered here, after being cooped up onboard that ship, unable to be myself!” Then he went serious, his voice low. “I do want you to spend the evening with me, in my own shelter. Let me make it up to you for my indiscretion.”

Sasha couldn’t deny the excitement of such a prospect, even if it was still dampened a little by his impulsive actions - and the recent attack from the Shriekers. “We’ll see.”

“But I’m serious, you will have to get yourself cleaned up, that stink is awful.”

Sasha knew that already. She returned to her squad members. “Let’s get back to the others.”

She was thankful that Neraxis and Jonas stayed silent as they followed the trail back to their camp. Yes, silent. Very silent. Judgementally silent. Even the birds in the flanking trees seemed to have stilled, sensing the tension in the air-

She stopped and turned to face her friends, confused and angry and embarrassed and probably a few more emotions she hadn’t even recognised yet. “I didn’t want you guys to be put in a dilemma since Jared and I were breaking regulations, okay? And not knowing about it, you could always claim ignorance if you were questioned-”

Neraxis stared back, smirking. “We knew already. The whole Squad does.”

Sasha blinked. “They do?” She looked to Jonas for confirmation; the young man nodded, his face flushed. “All of you know? Even Kit?”

“It was actually Kit who first pointed it out,” Jonas explained, blushing. “Since he started reading up on humanoid, uh, sexual habits and attraction, he noticed how you reacted whenever Jared was around, or whenever his name was mentioned. He’s really quite observant, picking up little clues, even if he doesn’t quite grasp yet what it all means.”

“Yeah,” Neraxis followed. “Then it became kind of obvious how you felt about him.” She smiled. “Don’t worry, no one’s gonna say anything to anyone else.”

Sasha looked to each of them in turn. “Thanks.” She looked down at herself. “No one brought any spare uniforms, did they?”

Neraxis brushed more faeces off her sleeves. “I’m just hoping someone brought soap.”

*

There were no spare uniforms. And while there was a local sterilising field in the medikit and the toilet unit, there was no soap. Once the usual wisecracks were made by the others and Giles gave a report on their own misadventures, the three victims of the Shrieker assault went down to the edge of the lake, stripped off and washed their clothes and themselves as best they could, by hands and on the rocks.

Sasha stared at her reflection in the dark water… and not liking what she saw. Well, so far her first Away Mission has gone down as smooth as that monkey crap she ate. Her father was going to be so disappointed in her.

When they were done, they silently dressed back in their vests and boxers and carried their soaked uniforms and boots back to their campsite, where a fire surrounded by a circle of large stones was crackling. “What genius thought we’d need a fire in this heat?”

Giles dropped some kindling he was carrying in his arms near the fire. “We were gonna set up a rack to dry your uniforms. And the smoke should help keep back the bugs.”

Next to him, Kitirik turned his head and shot his long, thin, pink feeding tongue out, catching a particularly large four-winged insect.

Giles’ face screwed up in disgust. “Kit, what are you doing? You’re gonna be sick again!”

Kit froze, stared, and spat out the remains of his catch. “Sorry, Friend Giles. Force of habit.”

Jonas dropped his uniform and boots. “I have an idea on what to use for a clothes rack.” He looked to Sasha. “With your permission?”

“Sure, go ahead.” She turned to see Eydiir standing beside her. “What’s up?”

The Capellan was using her medical tricorder. “I understand you consumed faeces.”

“Not by choice, I can assure you.”

Eydiir nodded and returned to her medikit. “I examined the remains of it; there are some nasty parasites within, and I’ve compiled an antibiotic specific course based on the biochemical readings we’ve taken so far. Neraxis, Jonas, come here.”

As the other two drew up beside her, Eydiir returned with a hypospray, injecting each of them in turn. “Try not to come in contact with it again.”

“We’ll do our best,” Neraxis joked.

Afterwards, Sasha and Neraxis kept busy fashioning a makeshift rack near the fire, draping the wet uniforms over it. Then Sasha noticed Jonas and Giles hunched over one of the heating units they had brought. “Jonas, I love you like a brother. But I swear to the Great Mother and Her Cubs, you turn that thing on and-”

Giles looked up, smiling. “Our resident genius here thinks he can convert this to a cooling unit for the shelters tonight.”

“Really?”

Now Jonas look up, appearing both proud and hesitant. “Well, it’s possible. I once worked on a similar unit back when I was helping my Mom’s company, and we’d found some frozen consumables on a Pakled freighter and were trying to keep them from defrosting, so-”

“Jonas,” Sasha interrupted gently. “Tell you what: you get it working, and you can tell us all about it later.”

Neraxis was carrying something from the shuttle. “You get it working, Jonas, and you can touch Sasha’s other boob!”

Giles looked up. “What?”

Jonas blushed and focused on staring into the guts of the heater. “Never mind.”

Eydiir looked at Sasha, as if about to question how Jonas managed to touch a breast, when she froze, prompting Sasha to ask, “What’s wrong?”

The Capellan made a soft shushing sound, and somehow her kligat, her people’s throwing blade, appeared in her hand. Her whole body was taut. “Something’s approaching through the trees, to my left.”

Sasha tensed. “Someone from one of the other squads?”

Eydiir shook her head. “Animal.”

“A Shrieker?”

“This is larger.”

Sasha raised her arm to silently signal the others, glad that she got their attention. Wordlessly Neraxis set down what she had been carrying out of the shuttle with Kit and drew her phaser, approaching the others-

Just as a large, brown object barrelled into the open towards Sasha.

Eydiir pushed the girl out of the way and flung her kleegat at a large, four-legged creature with a tusk-flanked muzzle, striking one of the tusks and bouncing off as the creature invaded the campsite, emitting a terrible bellow.

Sasha grabbed a large branch from the ground and raised it. “Everybody get out of the way!”

The creature was like a Terran warthog or Klingon targ, waist-high and muscular and shaggy and now stampeding around camp, knocking over the rack with the drying uniforms and sending them into the fire, slamming into units and chairs and threatening to do the same to the Away team - until Neraxis stunned it with her phaser. It went down on its side, but was still breathing, albeit rapidly. It also stank, as did most every animal on this planet, it seemed.

“Is everyone all right?” Sasha asked.

“Better than Tusky here,” Giles quipped, suddenly cursing. “Look! Your uniforms!”

All turned to see the three uniforms now smouldering on the fire, and moved to rescue them, The material was meant to be fireproof - but it was now charred in places.

Sasha stood there, feeling her temper fray. She began pacing, wincing as her bare feet stepped on sharp stones. Now she swore loudly. “That is it! I am done! This was supposed to be an adventure for us! We were gonna win the competition! Now look at us! I have us waste time and space bringing down unnecessary equipment! Giles damages an alien building! Kit gets sick on bugs! I eat monkey crap! And now a pig invades our camp and burns our uniforms!”

She looked at Giles. “You and Neraxis do a sweep of the immediate area, then work out a security plan to keep any more animals from coming in here! Eydiir, you and Kit check out the animal, make sure it’s okay! Jonas, get that fakakta heater turned into a cooler! And I’ll have all of you know for the record that later on I’m going over to Jared Miro’s tent and spend the evening salvaging this terrible experience and lose my virginity! Assuming that any lingering stink of monkey crap on me doesn’t put him off!”

She stormed off to her own shelter and entered, collapsing onto her stomach on the top of her sleeping bag, running her fingers through her hair and feeling like seven shades of bad.

She wanted to cry. She had such high hopes for her first real Away Mission! Now they’re sitting around in the heat and bugs with unnecessary equipment and crap food and the wildlife are attacking them and her secret boyfriend was outing their relationship to all and sundry, risking their positions- and then she does the same to her own squad, friends that she just yelled at. She hoped for another Tusky to charge through and trample all over her.

She grabbed her PADD and began collating the data and compiling her report. They had gathered and catalogued a great deal of data, despite all their setbacks, mistakes and misadventures. The shelter was small, waist-high, and the heat within was stifling, oppressive, and she really hoped that Jonas could make them a cooling unit. Otherwise, they might have to work up a rota for the Squad to sleep in the shuttle.

Not her, though. She didn’t deserve it, treating them all like dirt the way she did. She tried to listen to them, but the soundproofed material of her shelter wouldn’t let her her anything distinct.

Sweat was beading down her back and the backs of her legs, but she ignored it.

She didn’t ignore the tap on the shelter frame from outside, however. “What?”

The shelter door was pulled open, and Giles half-knelt there. “Hi. Can I come in?”

Sasha had been lying there, with only the backlight from her PADD to illuminate her. Now she reached up to switch on the light on the supporting bar holding up the circular roof of the shelter. “Were you the one they chose to come in here and assassinate me?”

“We drew lots.” He crawled in, leaving the shelter flap door open to let in some air as he sat cross-legged. “Sorry to bother you, but I thought as second in command I should report in. Jonas thinks he’ll have us cooler in an hour or so. Neraxis and I have worked out something… unusual… to protect our camp from any further intruders. And Eydiir and Kit have examined Tusky, and can wake him up with a stimulant.”

“Thanks.” Sasha grunted, reaching for one of the water bottles. “I was an ass out there to everyone.”

“Agreed. That’s usually my job.”

“And then I’m boasting about going off to have sex with Jared.”

“To be fair, that’s pretty boastworthy. I know I was like that, with my first when I was fifteen. Couldn’t stop telling everyone.”

She drank again. “Giles… are you really a virgin?”

He didn’t answer.

“I wasn’t asking to make fun of you, it’s none of my-”

“Yes,” he admitted, breathing out, all his swagger gone. “Yes, I am. I mean, there have been times when I could have been with a girl or two, of course. Lots of girls were willing… I think…” He glanced out at the camp once. “But then I say too much and ruin my chances. I can talk a good game. I... I just don’t know when to shut up. I probably try too hard.”

She nodded. “I’ve been too busy the last couple of years to think about it… much… now, it feels like it’s another qualification I have to make to get into adulthood.” She smiled at him. “You don’t mind if I get there first, do you?”

He smiled back. “You’re the Squad Leader.”

She sighed, staring out the shelter door. “Yes, I am. And I’d better start earning my keep.”

In the camp, everyone was crowded around the still-unmoving animal, but then rose as Sasha and Giles approached, Sasha declaring, “I’ll keep this short: I’ve been a jerk to all of you, and I’m sorry.” She nodded to Eydiir. “Let’s get this smelly bastard out of here.”

The Capellan nodded, producing a hypospray. indicating the animal. “I suggest everyone back off and give it space. I have no desire to repair puncture wounds from those tusks.”

They did so, as Eydiir prepared a hypospray and returned to the pig-thing, getting just close enough to press the business end of the spray into its hindquarters, before joining the others. Tusky jolted, like it had just been disturbed from a nap, before finally rising, looking a little wobbly as it staggered about. Sasha noticed that Neraxis and Giles had phasers drawn, but pointed to the ground before them: good.

They watched silently as Tusky seemed to be surveying the area, before moving over to the remains of their replicated rations, stuck its snout into one half-finished meal - then promptly bolted out the far end of the clearing with a noise of disgust.

“I don’t blame you," Sasha called after it. “Thank you, Eydiir. You too, Kit.”

Now Neraxis spoke up. “And we’ve come up with a solution to the wildlife problem. Tusky apparently is the Shriekers’ main predator here, so they’ll stay away from their territory. And territory is universally marked with urine.”

“You want to invite Tusky back to spray around the area for us?”

“No need,” Eydiir explained, “Our own urine has sufficient hormones to act as an effective substitute for the predator’s. It’ll keep both the Shriekers and the other Tuskies away.”

Sasha nodded. “A simple and non-lethal approach. Good work.”

“We’ll all have to pitch in and pee out in the open,” Neraxis pointed out, heading towards the edge of the campsite. “Hope no one’s bladder shy.”

“If we are, we’ll be cured of it soon enough.” Sasha smiled. “Thank you. All of you.” She looked back in the direction of the other camp, and Jared. The others were right; no one on the Surefoot would know… She considered walking away to have a discreet conversation, but instead just slapped her combadge. “Private Message: Squad Leader Hrelle to Squad Leader Miro.”

A second later, the familiar voice made her smile, and her heart race. “Hello, Sweetness.”

Sasha felt herself blush. “I was wondering… I was wondering if that invitation to visit your shelter later was still open?”

There was a pause, and for a brief heartbeat she feared Jared would change her mind. But then the Argelian’s voice returned. “Absolutely, lover. I should warn you, though, I sleep in the nude. And so will you.”

Sasha felt herself blush, ignoring the looks from her Squad. “You’re outrageous. How about 2100 Hours? It’ll give us a chance to eat and work on our reports beforehand?”

“Fine, Miss Professional. But I swear if you bring up work while you’re with me, you’ll be getting a spanking. Jared out.”

Sasha’s heart was racing now, and she couldn’t get the stupid grin off her face as she helped the others straighten up and store the collected samples.

*

USS Surefoot, Deck 1, Bridge:

Commander T’Varik leaned back in her chair, having detected a private transmission between the two Squad Leaders; after a moment’s decryption, she listened to its contents. Her brow furrowed, and she only half-monitored the rest of the incoming data on the stations she had set up to secretly observe the progress of the three cadet squads.

She swivelled her chair around to see Captain Hrelle conversing with Lt Velkovsky at the helm. “Captain, would you please monitor my stations for any possible emergencies, while I have a word with the Counselor?”

He looked up at her. “Of course. Is there anything I can help with?”

She considered it, given that it involved his stepdaughter. However, it was that same factor that made her reply, “Not at this time. That may change, however. If you will excuse me?”

He waved her off. She rose and departed without further preamble.

*

She found Kami in the dining hall, eagerly devouring a Caitian dish of fried meats and minimal vegetables. “Counselor, may I disturb you?”

She looked up from her plate. “You’re not having any of this.”

“I will contain my disappointment. I am seeking your counsel on a matter involving the cadets.”

Kami stopped eating and straightened up. “I see. Well, it’s quiet here, but if you want to discuss this in my office-”

“This will be suitable.” The Vulcan took the seat opposite her, her voice low and confidential in tone. “As you are aware, I have been monitoring the cadets planetside. During this time, I have discovered that Ms Hrelle and Mr Miro are romantically involved. I am not certain when this commenced, or the extent of the relationship, but I am certain that clandestine coitus has been scheduled for 2100 Hours tonight.”

Kami smiled. “You Vulcans are such romantics.”

T’Varik raised an eyebrow. “Were you aware of this relationship?”

“I… suspected.”

“But you chose to not warn them of the dangers?”

“What dangers? All cadets have birth control implants and are in good health.”

“I should not need to remind you of Starfleet Academy Regulation 121: ‘Cadets before their fourth year of study are forbidden from engaging in sexual activity of any kind, either with other cadets, Academy staff or with civilians, regardless of the age of said cadets, their legal or marital status.’”

Kami extended the claw on her forefinger and picked at her teeth. “I know. That was a dealbreaker for my cub.”

“‘Dealbreaker’?”

“An issue or condition with an individual, group or organisation that you can’t ignore, one that ultimately outweighs any redeeming qualities they might otherwise have. For you, for instance, a dealbreaker with a potential suitor might be if he forced you to eat meat-”

“She.”

“Excuse me?”

“The proper personal pronoun for describing a potential suitor for me would be ‘she’. I prefer women.”

“Hmm, anyway, for my cub, who really, really enjoys sex, he’d sooner be a pilot in a private shipping firm and bed the females as and when he likes.” She smiled. “He has no regrets.”

“Regulation 121 is a logical and necessary rule. It protects underclassmen from possible exploitation by more experienced individuals-”

“Balls.”

“-And allows them to stay focused on their academic studies by eliminating distractions.”

“Balls.”

“Repeatedly responding with the Terran slang for testicles does not validate your opinion.”

“We already have regulations in place to protect underclassmen from exploitation. And 121 doesn’t deactivate a person’s sex drive. If the Academy ever added a regulation prohibiting masturbation, the poor kids would be exploding all over the place.”

“Nevertheless, the regulation is explicit. My next course of action is clear.”

Kami tilted a head, smiling. “I think that if that were the case, you wouldn’t have come to me for counsel.”

T’Varik paused, silently acceding the point. “I must admit a… personal bias, given one of the individuals involved.”

“I’m guessing you don’t mean Jared?”

“Jared Miro is gifted and personable, if overly concerned with his own sensual appetites, as is typical for his culture. I have no feelings of either a positive or negative nature for him. However, I found Sasha to be… intriguing, long before I met her stepfather. Indeed, before it was known that the Captain was alive, and innocent of the charges levelled against him…”

*

Starfleet Academy, Two Years Ago:

Commander T’Varik had been sitting in the rear of the classroom, silently evaluating Lt. McKinley, the new Federation History instructor for the freshmen cadets on their first day at class, when there had been an unexpected visitor, a Starfleet officer of commander whom T’Varik did not recognise. “Sorry to interrupt, Lieutenant, I’ll only be a minute.”

McKinley, a young, fresh-faced human, glanced at the back of the class in T’Varik’s direction, before returning to the intruder. “Excuse me, Sir, but who are you?”

“Commander Matthew Arrington, Starfleet Intelligence. I’m here on official business, and I’ll only be a minute. Okay? Good.” The older man, tall and pale and balding and gimlet-eyed, didn’t wait for a response from the instructor, looking out at the classroom of new cadets and barking, “Where’s Cadet Sasha Eismann?”

The name sparked murmurs and looks among the cadets, and a raised eyebrow from T’Varik. She was aware of the cadet, remembering the incident years before on Station Salem One, when the then-child had managed to save her teacher and class during the Bel-Zon raid that had killed her mother among others, receiving the Starfleet Medal of Commendation for exceptional valour, the youngest recipient of the medal to date.

T’Varik was also aware that her stepfather, Captain Esek Hrelle, remained at large, having been found guilty of aiding and abetting the criminal gang in the raid on the station, as well as the deaths of his crew on the border vessel USS Furyk. However, that fact did not prevent the girl from receiving an exceptional number of letters of recommendation from Starfleet officers, crew and noted civilian personnel years later, when she applied for a position at Starfleet Academy.

Among the class, a short blonde human with a mature figure rose, her voice clear as she announced, “Cadet Sasha Eismann, reporting as order, Sir!”

T’Varik watched the reaction on Arrington’s face to the girl’s response - it reminded her of some of the some of the more cruel upperclassmen who still mistakenly believed it was an Academy tradition to harass the younger plebes. He barked again, “Front and centre, Cadet! Now!”

Eismann complied, quickly walking between the columns of desks to stand at attention in front of her class and the Commander. Arrington stood a head taller than her, and drew closer, giving her an intimidating glare that made T’Varik distinctly uncomfortable. The man kept scowling at the sixteen-year-old, who impressively stayed fully at attention with no reaction, but he kept his voice raised for the benefit of the captive audience. “Proud, are we? Standing there in a cadet’s uniform you don’t deserve to wear? Do your teachers and friends know who your stepfather was?”

Near the podium, Lt. McKinley spoke up again, “Excuse me, Commander, with all due respect-”

Arrington never even looked at him. “Just stay put, son, this won’t take long.” He drew even closer, until he was practically in Cadet Eismann’s face, as if trying to make her shake, to involuntarily back away, though she remained admirably still as he continued loudly, “You may have sneaked in here under the name Eismann, but I know that your stepfather was the criminal traitor, Esek Hrelle!”

He paused to let the revelation sink in among the cadets, who murmured and whispered even more loudly than before, while the instructor paled. T’Varik, however, was inwardly appalled that the man would reveal confidential information like that in public. And she was concerned that Lt. McKinley was doing nothing to try and regain control over his classroom.

Arrington continued. “And his influence is evident in you. You painted yourself out to be some hero at Salem One, taking advantage of the terrible crimes your stepfather committed, including the death of your own mother, to get yourself a place here. And now you have the gall to stand there in that uniform? You’re not fit to be here! And if you had any sense, you’d resign and crawl off somewhere, because I promise you, if you stay, you’ll live to regret it!”

And now T’Varik understood the reason for his visit; amidst the court martial in absentia for Captain Hrelle’s action, Arrington’s own office had received substantial criticism for their lack of intelligence in warning about the Bel-Zon’s threat, and it was implied at the time that their continued attacks on Hrelle was an attempt to deflect that criticism. The Vulcan was frankly astonished that he would come here to try an intimidate a young person in such a petty fashion.

She had been waiting for McKinley to finally intervene, but when it became apparent that the younger instructor was too intimidated by the intruder to do so, T’Varik began to rise and do so herself. However, Cadet Eismann, red-faced and almost shaking, spoke up. “Permission to speak freely, Sir?”

“Oh, go right ahead, Cadet.” He looked pleased, as if waiting for a challenge.

He shouldn’t have been. T’Varik stood still as she saw the change in the young woman’s stance and expression, the face tight with rage, the angry finger rising up to point in the man’s face as she snarled loudly and proudly, “I couldn’t give two tugs of a dead dog’s cock what you have to say about my stepfather! Your opinion of him isn’t worth the shit under my boots! There isn’t a quantum microscope in the Galaxy powerful enough to measure how little of a fuck I give about the opinion of a miserable, cowardly little man who has never commanded, never served on a starship, but spends his time skulking around the back corridors of Starfleet like some anal parasite, feeding off the shit that comes his way!”

Gasps of shock ran through the assembled group, and if T’Varik did not possess the emotional control of a Vulcan she would have reacted in the same way. So she stood there and witnessed the remarkable reversal of personality and status, which had been as profound as it had been immediate.

And it was Arrington who was suddenly looking intimidated, literally stepping back as the first-year cadet, twenty years younger and a head shorter than Arrington, was stepping forward, pressing her verbal assault. “You and your pathetic office isn’t fit to lick Captain Hrelle’s tail, let alone stand in judgement of him without all the facts! Without giving him due process, without giving him the presumption of innocence, or taking his long and distinguished career serving the Federation into account!”

Her voice grew until it filled the classroom. “And you have the gall to come in here and bring my mother into this? A woman who’s worth a hundred of you and every memebr of your miserable fucking family? You shameless fakakta little prick! Let me tell you something, shithead, if you think you can come along here and try to scare me off, then you can KISS MY FURRY ASS!”

Commander Arrington looked like he’s been physically struck. He didn’t really recover until T’Varik finally stepped forward and escorted him and Cadet Eismann to the Superintendent’s office, where his bluster had resurfaced. “She publicly insulted a superior commissioned officer! I demand that you expel the insubordinate little bitch immediately!”

The Superintendent, an older, pale-skinned human with swept-back snow-white hair and a soft, lined face, sat behind her desk and narrowed her steely gaze at Arrington. “Commander, never demand anything of me, and never use that term about any woman in my presence again.”

Nearby, Cadet Eismann remained fully at attention, with T’Varik beside her, addressing the Superintendent. “I should remind the Commander that he gave the cadet permission to speak freely.”

He scowled at her. “That doesn’t give her the right to tell me to kiss her furry ass, whatever the hell that means!”

“In point of fact, it literally does give her that right.”

The Superintendent looked at Eismann now. “‘Furry ass’, Cadet?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” the girl replied formally, still at attention. “I was quoting a favourite expression of my stepfather; as you can imagine, being Caitian, his ass was quite furry.”

“Of course,” the Superintendent agreed, trying to keep a straight face.

“I should clarify, Ma’am, that my ass is not furry - however, I want it understood that the invitation I gave Commander Arrington to kiss it still stands.”

Arrington’s face reddened even further. “You see? That bi- that girl doesn’t deserve to be here!”

“There are fifty-three authors of letters of recommendation on her file that say differently,” T’Varik informed him coolly. “Including five admirals, nine Captains, eighteen senior officers-”

“If my father was still Superintendent here-”

“Commander Arrington,” the present Superintendent spoke up, her voice remaining calm - and very, very cold. “I haven’t given you permission to speak freely. Bear that in mind if you wish to continue your present train of thought.”

Arrington stiffened, but seemed to visibly regain control of himself as he continued. “Ma’am, be advised that I will be making an official complaint about Cadet Eismann’s behaviour today.”

“If you do,” T’Varik countered, before her superior officer did. “So shall I, regarding your own actions.”

Arrington faced the Vulcan. “Mine? What have I done?”

She faced him, standing between him and the cadet. “You entered Starfleet Academy grounds without prior authorisation from this office. You interrupted a class in session. You engaged in a conversation with an underage cadet without obtaining prior clearance. You revealed confidential information about her to her classmates and class instructor. You implied that she exploited her mother’s death to obtain a place at the Academy. And you made veiled threats to her safety should she choose to remain.” Her face tightened. “As Cadet Eismann’s personal Academy Liaison, and her de facto guardian during her time here, I will not permit any of that to go unchallenged.”

“Enough.” The Superintendent rose from behind her desk and looked at the three of them in turn, stopping with Arrington. “Commander… you will leave these grounds, and you will not return or make any further contact with Cadet Eismann without direct permission from myself. Otherwise, you’ll be kissing my ass, furry or not. Is that understood?”

Arrington almost looked ready to argue. But the man had enough intelligence to just stand at attention himself and reply, “Yes, Ma’am.”

“I will also be contacting your superior and informing her of your activities here today, because I doubt very much if she has sanctioned any of them. Dismissed.”

Arrington stiffened again and departed the office. The Superintendent relaxed a little now as she focused on T’Varik. “Commander, I was under the impression that Lt. Masters was Cadet Eismann’s Academy Liaison. When did you take over the position?”

The Vulcan shifted in place. “Approximately 32.71 seconds ago, it seems.”

The Superintendent smiled. “Good. I have a feeling she might need you in the future.” Now the older woman looked at Eismann. “Is there anything you need before you return to class, Cadet?”

The girl’s lips pursed. “There is, Ma’am. If I may, I would like to make an immediate amendment to my personal record.”

“What sort of amendment?”

“My surname, Ma’am. ‘Eismann’ was my biological father’s name, and the name of his parents, who raised me on Earth after my mother died; they had been the ones who convinced me to use it when I applied, to avoid any potential confrontations like the one that happened today.

I will always honour my birth father, and what he meant to my mother… but I never knew him. He never had the chance to be my father, the way my stepfather had been. Commander Arrington was correct about one thing: Captain Esek Hrelle shaped me, guided me, helped set me on my present course, and will continue to guide me, for the rest of my life.”

She somehow straightened up even further, looking proud. “So from now on, I wish to be known on the record as Cadet Sasha Hrelle. That way, if anyone else wishes to come and express their opinion of my stepfa- my father - they’ll know where to find me…”

*

Kami was laughing. “I’d have given my right boob to have been in the classroom that day.”

T’Varik offered a raised eyebrow. “Your willingness to exchange mammary body parts notwithstanding, I must admit that I am… fond of the girl. It is not logical. But it is true.”

Kami smiled warmly. “Well, I promise not to tell the Vulcan High Council about such an emotional admission. So what’s the problem? Look the other way. Let the girl have some fun, she deserves it.”

“I am not accustomed to ignoring regulations.”

“These are not regulations that apply to all of us, throughout our time in Starfleet. They’re regulations specifically aimed at the thousands of cadets at the Academy, typical adolescents acting as full-time students and living in the midst of a major city with so many distractions and temptations and comparatively fewer supervisors.

But the cadets in the AWE Program are not like them. They’re out here in the middle of nowhere, and expected to perform like ordinary officers and crewmen, despite their lack of age and experience. It’s… illogical that they can be considered adults under Federation law, that they’re expected to take on the responsibilities of adults, but not allow them to have sex, or drink, or have any of the other privileges of adulthood.”

“And if they cannot manage these privileges?”

“Then we offer them the guidance required to do so, as and when necessary.”

T’Varik considered Kami’s words, rising again. “Thank you, Counselor. I will consider it.”

She left, having already made up her mind…

*

Planet Luntanu, Alpha Squad Base Camp, 2030 Hours:

The food hadn’t gotten any better, but it was darker now, so at least they didn’t have to see it so clearly.

Sasha squatted on a container from the shuttle, fingers working over the screen as she edited the overall report, recalling Commander T’Varik’s advice to maintain the principles of the acronym FACT: Factual, Accurate, Concise and True. She was doing her best, though with all their misadventures, the acronym could also stand for Flawed, Amateurish, Crap and Terrible.

The Squad sat around the fire, Sasha, Neraxis and Jonas back in their charred uniforms, which at least had dried for the most part. Everyone perused their individual reports on their PADDs, while Sasha’s PADD, linked to theirs, collated everyone else’s. It was quiet, except for the crackle of the fire and the occasional zapping sound of the electric coil Jonas rigged to the top of a light pole, attracting and killing insects - while Kit would look up occasionally, and forlornly at them.

Finally Neraxis confirmed what most of them were already thinking. “You know, we’re gonna be lucky they let us off the ship for the next Away Mission.”

“It’s not that bad,” Jonas defended beside her.

“Indeed,” Eydiir agreed. “You are exaggerating slightly.”

“Still,” Giles began tentatively. “They don’t necessarily have to hear about all of those things.”

“Why not, Friend Giles?” Kit asked. “The events happened, as embarrassing as they might be.”

“Because there’s such a thing as too much information, Kit.”

“There is? How is that possible?”

Giles looked to the others for help. Sasha spoke up. “Well, Kit, one of the tenets of a good report is being Concise. It would not necessarily help the report to detail how you broke protocol by eating native insects and getting sick.”

“Or my completely understandable accidental damage to the temple,” Giles offered.

“Or the pig attack and the burning of the uniforms,” Jonas added.

“But definitely keep in Sasha eating the monkey crap,” Neraxis insisted, smiling. “There’s a public interest issue involved.”

Sasha was ahead of the rest of them, deleting all the uncomplimentary parts of their Away Mission, and ignoring Kit’s continued look of concern. Still, she felt the need to explain. “No one needs to know every little detail about what goes on, Kit. An omission of the truth isn’t like a lie. After all, if a tree falls in a forest and no one is around, does it make a noise?”

“Yes, it does.” Kit looked around at the others. “My former homeworld has many spacefaring neighbours: the Federation, the Cardassians, the Boslic and others. All have claimed to be advanced, enlightened and benevolent. But when I needed to leave my world and sought help, the others refused, or demanded payments that I could not provide.

The Federation, however, as represented by Starfleet, was different. It was a Starfleet captain who granted me asylum, who helped me escape and who later sponsored me for the Academy. He had nothing to gain from helping me, and had he refused, no one else would have known about it. But he didn’t refuse. He upheld the ideals he espoused.

I will always be grateful to him, and the organisation he represents. The organisation we all now represent.” He looked back at Sasha. “Respected Friend, forgive me for speaking my mind, but it is when no one bears witness, when no one is in judgement of us, that we must maintain our integrity the most.”

The group went silent, Sasha staring at the Qarari, surprised at what she had heard from him. “Kit… why did you need asylum?”

Kit stared back, his expression unnervingly still, except for the blinking of his round eyes and the soft flutter of his throat folds, before he replied, “My government and I agreed to disagree. It does not matter now. It is in the past.” He glanced up into the darkening sky. “Friend Eydiir, surely I can have just one of the four-winged flyers, yes?”

“No.”

Sasha wanted to enquire further - the talk about the bugs was clearly an attempt at diversion - but then her combadge chirped. “Private Message: Squad Leader Miro to Squad Leader Hrelle.”

She glanced at the others, a little embarrassed, before answering the hail. “Hrelle here.”

“Hello, Sweetness. I know it’s not 2100 Hours yet, but I want you, and I don’t want to wait any longer.”

Now Sasha felt herself fully blush. “Well, I suppose I could come early…”

Jared’s laugh carried loudly. “Now there’s a straight line waiting for a retort. I’ve set a light/sound beacon outside my shelter for you to follow. Don’t keep me waiting. Jared out.”

The group went silent, until Giles asked, “Well? Are you going?”

Sasha stared at the fire. Kit’s words clung to her. She desperately wanted to go, wanted to be with Jared, to reach this next stage in her life, to have something good to remember about this Away Mission, even if it wasn’t exactly noteworthy for her report. But it was still breaking the rules.

She looked around her friends again. “You guys really wouldn’t mind if I went?”

They all nodded or made sounds of support. Except for Kit, who had made his feelings known already, and offered only a plaintive look.

She looked away as she rose to her feet, and went for her phaser and a hand torch. He didn’t understand; he didn’t even have a sex drive.

She was glad for both, as the trail between her camp and Beta Squad’s was dark and uneven, with many things in the trees, noisy and mocking.

It was okay. She was allowed to do this. She was an adult. Jared was an adult. If they weren’t in Starfleet, they would have gone to bed long before this. There was nothing wrong with it.

Nothing.

She saw the beacon just ahead, though she kept at a slow pace, as the trail was still uneven and treacherous even with her torch. His squad’s campsite was nearby, to judge from the lights coming from it. She smiled faintly as she saw Jared standing outside his shelter, switching off the sound portion of his beacon but leaving the light on. “About time, lover.”

The Argelian boy was clad in a blue cotton shirt open to the waist, revealing a smooth, chiselled chest and abdomen, and black trousers. He was… yummy. He took Sasha’s breath away.

Jared drew closer, eyes locked with Sasha’s but his hands reaching out, gently taking the phaser and torch from her and casting them to the ground. Then he reached up, cupped Sasha’s face in his hands and kissed her. Sasha felt herself melt, and at the same time, her body galvanised, and she embraced him, her hands moving over her back and down to his rear, relishing the feel of his firm flesh.

Jared led her into the shelter, where sleeping bags had been open and laid out on top of each other, offering enough space and cushion for two. Sasha lay back, looking up at Jared as he half-knelt over her, kissing her again, their mouths grinding against each other, Jared making an effort to undress her, smiling in the dim light seeping in outside.

He laughed softly. “Should have had you strip outside, we hardly have room in here.” He reached down, as if to cup one of Sasha’s breasts through her uniform - only to remove her combadge and toss it aside. “And bloody Starfleet can go to hell for a few hours.”

Jared laughed softly and bent down to kiss her again.

Sasha blocked him. “Wait- No-”

The Argelian stared down at her. “What?”

Sasha shook her head, pushing up to get Jared off her. “No, we can’t-”

He slumped to his side, facing Sasha and looking even more confused than before. “Yes, we can, it’s the perfect opportunity! T’Varik and your Dad are in orbit, no one will ever know!”

“We’ll know.”

Jared froze again, before reaching out to touch Sasha’s cheek, whispering gently, “You’re scared, that’s all. It’s your first time. I’ll take care of you.”

“I’m not scared. But we agreed to abide by Starfleet regulations.”

“It’s an unfair, idiotic regulation!”

“That doesn’t matter, we still agreed to it.”

Jared rose onto one elbow, letting his hand drift down again. “Come on, Sweetness. Be adventurous like your mother.” He leaned in again to kiss her.

Sasha brought a hand up between them again. “What does that mean, ‘adventurous’?”

Jared started to reply, then caught himself, before finally shaking his head and declaring, “It’s nothing, just relax...” His hand moved to her waist.

“No.” Sasha drew up quickly, sitting up cross-legged and facing Jared on an equal level. “Explain ‘nothing’. What made my mother adventurous?”

The Argelian made a soft, murmuring laugh. “Come on, Sash, you must realise yourself, right? She married a Caitian, after all. That’s not exactly normal.”

Sasha felt like she’d been struck with a hammer. Her heart was racing now, for all the wrong reasons, and she felt dizzy, not believing what she was hearing. “How can you talk like that? You want to be in Starfleet, but you’re prejudiced against Caitians?”

Now he looked indignant. “Prejudiced? I’m not prejudiced! I like Caitians! I appreciate them! They’re like my people, they’re hedonistic, they embrace all the sexual aspects that life has to offer.” He smiled. “And I figured growing up around one of them might have had an equally liberating effect on you.” Now his smile dropped. “Clearly I was wrong. You remain as bland and boring as every other Earther I have encountered. I wasted my time with you.”

She glared in disbelief at him. “Is that why you were interested in me? Because you thought I was... exotic? Uninhibited?”

“What’s wrong with being uninhibited? Your mother clearly was.” He wore a smug, condescending expression that suddenly made him as unattractive to her as his words. He leaned back on one elbow. “Did she ever say what was it that got her going about him? Was it the ears, the claws? I know, the tail, right? It has to be the tail.”

Sasha stared at him for a moment longer, before she reached out, grabbed her combadge where Jared had thrown it and crawled out of the shelter to get her other things. The Argelian followed her. “Where are you going?”

“You want to know what got my Mom ‘going’ about Esek Hrelle?” Sasha demanded, her voice rising even as her stomach felt like it was plummeting. “He was decent and kind and patient and wonderful to her! And to me, too! Even when I was being a little bitch to him! She married him because she loved him!”

Now Jared offered her a look of condescending derision, like an older brother having to deal with a child who refused to accept where babies really came from. “Yes, Sasha, I’m sure she loved him. I’m sure she loved him so much she couldn’t walk for days at a time.” He smirked. “When he was in heat, did you ever catch him sniffing round your parts-”

Sasha’s fist connected with his jaw.

Jared yelped and staggered back, tripping over something in the dark and falling onto his shelter, collapsing it. She found her phaser and torch and stumbled her way back to her own camp, anger and tears fighting for dominance.

*

Station Salem One, Eismann Family Quarters, Eleven Years Ago:

Seven-year-old Sasha sat up in bed, silently willing in vain for her mother to forgive her, to forget why she was there, to beam away… to do anything but sit at the side of the bed, dressing gown tied tightly around her waist, the silk lapel lifted to hide the bite marks on her neck.

She looked so angry, but in that horrible quiet way that carried into her voice. “It’s late, and you have school in the morning, so I don’t intend to keep you up any longer than necessary. But you had better believe that tonight is not going to be the end of- keep your eyes on me when I’m speaking, young lady!”

Sasha had been looking past her, focusing on the line of Starfleet Huggables, soft plush dolls of various races in Starfleet uniforms, that all the kids in her class were collecting, albeit replicated ones rather than the more expensive originals.

Now she reluctantly looked back at Mom, as Mom continued her lecture. “I was honest and upfront with you from the start. I told you that Esek and I would be coming home after your sitter put you to bed, and that he would be staying over tonight, so you wouldn’t be surprised if you saw him in the middle of night or in the morning. And I know I have told you many times to never come into my bedroom without knocking.”

“You come into mine without knocking,” Sasha muttered in protest.

“Excuse me?” Mom’s glare narrowed on her. “Excuse me? You think that’s the same thing? Listen, Bubulah, when you’re older, and you start to show some maturity and responsibility, then you’ll get that privilege. You knew we were in my bedroom, you heard us, but still you came in anyway without knocking while we were making love!”

“That’s not how you do it!” Sasha declared angrily. “I know! I saw a video in Biology Class!”

Mom’s face darkened, and she breathed out before replying in a tight, controlled voice. “I’ll have you know that there are many ways that two grown-ups can make love.”

“But if you do it with a Caitian, you’ll have babies that’ll claw their way out of your belly!”

“What? Who told you that?”

“Leonard.”

“Who the hell’s Leonard?”

“Suzanne’s big brother. He’s ten.”

“Well, I hate to contradict someone with so many years of wisdom behind him, but I can tell you that firstly, grown-ups don’t just make love to have babies. They do it because it feels good, and because they love each other and want to share that love with each other.

Secondly, humans and Caitians can’t have babies without help from doctors; they would have to take out one of my eggs and treat it so it will take a Caitian seed.

And thirdly, their cubs do not claw their way out of their mother’s bellies; if they did, the mothers wouldn’t be around to feed them and take care of them, now would they?”

It made sense to Sasha. But she refused to admit it. As far as she was concerned, the man that Mom was dating - and now making love with, yuck! - was nothing but an intruder, unwanted in their lives. Oh, he tried to be nice, and he promised to take her onboard his starship and let her sit in the Captain’s chair, but if he thought he could trick or bribe his way into their family, he was in for a big disappointment.

“And I promise you, I have no intention of having another baby,” Mom assured her. “The one I already had and is sitting up in front of me right now is proving a handful enough.”

“Leonard says Caitians keep their women naked and make them have babies or they’ll eat them.”

Mom frowned. “Leonard is an ignorant putz. Do you think the Federation would allow a member world to do that to their own people? Do you think I would go out with a man who would hurt me? I trust Esek. He may look rough and tough, but he’s more like a big... teddy bear. You know, he had every right to be angry about what you did tonight, but instead, he’s in my room, upset that we might have scared you. Very upset.”

Sasha scowled and looked away. “Good.”

But Mom reached out, took Sasha by the chin and drew her back to face her again. “No. Not Good. You listen to me, young lady. I love that man in there. He’s funny and warm and generous, and despite all your efforts to drive him away, like you’ve done before with other men I brought home, he has been nothing but patient and kind with you.” Now tears welled in the woman’s eyes. “And I am tired of being alone.”

Sasha shook her head. She never wanted to see her Mom cry, for any reason. Sasha couldn’t remember her Dad, only knew him through videos of him with Mom and herself as a baby and a toddler. Mom always talked fondly of him - but never mentioned how lonely she was without him. Now she felt her own tears blossom. “You- You have me…”

Mom smiled and wiped the tears from her eyes. “Yes. Yes, I do. And when you’re not being a pain in my toches, I couldn’t have a better daughter.” She used her thumb and forefinger to clear away Sasha’s tears as well. “But even the best daughter can’t do everything for me, just like the best tricorder can’t do what a communicator can do. Grown-ups need other grown-ups, to talk with, to share grown-up things… and to make love with, as disgusting as I know that sounds to you right now. Grown-ups need grown-up friends.

And you know, Esek could be your friend, too. He’d love that. Family is very important to Caitians. But his family back on Cait don’t speak to him any more, because he chose to join Starfleet instead of staying at home and running their business. Imagine how you’d feel if your family did that to you?”

That made Sasha pale. She had wanted nothing more than to be in Starfleet, like Mom and Dad. Who could be so mean to their child? “Is he lonely too?”

Mom’s tears returned. “I think so.”

Sasha stared hard. It wasn’t fair, saying that about him! She wanted to hate him! How was she supposed to do that?

“Hannah?”

Mother and daughter dried their respective tears and looked over at the silhouette in the doorway to Sasha’s bedroom, Mom saying, “You didn’t have to get dressed, Esek.”

“Sorry, Hannah, but I’m afraid I did; I got a call from the Furyk. There’s a Nausicaan raider spotted in the freight lanes waiting for the next shipment from Deneva. Sasha, may I have permission to come into your room, please?”

Mom looked to her, the woman’s frustration at the turn of events for the evening obvious. “Well? May he?”

Sasha looked to him, nodding without saying anything, hoping they realised how difficult it was for her to do even that.

He strode in, his hands behind his back until he dropped to one knee beside the bed. “I was going to give this to you in the morning, but since I won’t be here…” He held up a Starfleet Huggable: a Caitian one, complete with pointed ears and a curling tail. “We were cleaning out our cargo bays on the Furyk, and found Captain Fuzzybutt here. Everyone else wanted to flush him out the airlock, but I thought he might find a good home with you.” He held it out to her. “What do you think?”

“Sash?” Mom prompted.

The girl accepted it perfunctorily.

“Well?” Mom added, more forcefully.

“Thank you.” Sasha offered, still without looking at him. She had used the words plenty of times to Hrelle, along with ‘Hello’ and ‘Good Night’ and ‘I’m Sorry’ - and never meant any of them at any time. She thought she was getting good at it.

And he was too stupid to notice. “You’re welcome.” He rose again, looking at Hannah. “I’ll wait for you in the living room.”

Mom nodded as he departed, smirking at Sasha when they were alone again. “Listen to him, ‘cleaning out our cargo bays’. He’s been searching for one of those for weeks now for you. He ended up trading a whole crate of Spican flame whiskey for it with a Miradorn freighter captain.”

Sasha set the toy aside. She didn’t need his replicated garbage.

Mom frowned at the response. “You do know it’s an original, don’t you? Not replicated?”

Sasha looked up again, not believing her. Then she picked up the doll, turned it around and lifted up the back of the uniform jacket, finding the latinum dot of authenticity and number, something that couldn’t be replicated, or even been put through a transporter beam, but hand-crafted on Earth and physically exported! But it was worth a fortune! She’d seen the prices of them in catalogues!

Why would he do that, after the way she treated him? Why?

Mom rose to her feet. “Now, I want you to get some sleep, and-”

But Sasha threw off her bedcovers, Captain Fuzzybutt still in hand and the tails of her nightdress fluttering as she raced into the living room, where Hrelle was standing, looking bemused at her. “Sasha?”

She barrelled into him, hugging his big belly as much as she could. “Thank you! Thank you! THANK YOU!”

It was the first time she meant it.

*

Sasha stormed back into the campsite and took her place back among them, kicking a rock and cursing for good measure. Everyone stopped chatting and looked at her, before Neraxis finally observed, “That was quick. Didn’t stay for seconds?”

Sasha glowered. “Didn’t stay for firsts. I… changed my mind. I know I could have gotten away with it, I know no one would have told, I know it’s a stupid regulation. But I didn’t.” She looked to Kit. “I guess you were right: a tree that falls in the forest and no one hears it still makes a noise.”

Kit nodded, looking pleased with her decision.

Then Jonas blurted out, “I’m glad.” When Sasha looked at him, he looked back, both hesitant at being the centre of attention and emboldened. “I’m sorry, Sash, I know you wanted to be with him, and I know it’s selfish of me, but… I like having you as our leader. I don’t want you to risk being kicked off the program for a… a bit of fun. Especially with Mister Galactic Gigolo. You deserve better.”

Eydiir, sitting beside him, patted him on the shoulder. “Well said, Jonas!” She looked at Sasha. “He is right; it is honourable that have kept your word.”

“How did Jared take it?” Neraxis asked. “Leaving him like that?”

Sasha stared into the fire. “We had a fight. He… suggested that my Dad would have been after me when he was in heat.”

The group went quiet.

Until Giles asked, “Is Jared still alive? Do we need to pack up and run for the border?”

“He’s still alive. I only punched him.”

“He deserved worse,” Jonas said.

“No argument there.”

“If you desire,” Eydiir suggested. “I can creep into their camp and secretly infect him with a local fungus I identified that will cause extreme and lingering scrotal irritation.”

“What? You can’t do that!”

“Yes I can,” the Capellan insisted. “I am very stealthy.”

“And if you’re on the rebound,” Neraxis offered, nudging Jonas’ other side. “You can date Scrappy here. He hasn’t stopped talking about touching your boob since you left.”

Russet-faced, Jonas started to protest, before just giving up.

“How about we all just sit here, have our terrible food and tell stupid jokes?” Sasha decided, looking down at the remains of her ration bar on the ground, where the local insects were giving it a wide berth. “I hope Dad is happy making us eat this- Dad!”

“What is it?” Giles asked.

She didn’t answer, rising and heading for the shuttle, suddenly remembering the bag her father had given her before they left the Surefoot, but she had been too busy making an absolute balls-up of their Away Mission to remember it until now. She found it and returned to the camp, noting its weight for the first time. “What the hell did he pack in here for me?”

She set it down before them, opened it and rummaged through the contents, removing a series of foil packets and holding them up to the light to read their labels. “Hey! There’s wasabi nuts, licorice, Jelly Novae, Crunchicles, Betazoid chocolate! All kinds of snacks!”

The others leaned in longingly, as she started handing them out, her mouth watering. “Seven Hells, we’ve got Potato Rods, gumdrops, Honey Hortas- wait, are these… sugar-coated locusts?”

Kit held up his hand. “Respected Squad Leader, if no one else would like those-”

She threw the bag at him as she continued removing the contents of the satchel. “Self-popping popcorn, Mugatu Chews…” She drew out a bottle in a refrigerated sheath. “Aldebaran Whiskey?”

Giles reached out and took it. “You guys can keep the rest, I’ll manage this.” Then his smiled dropped as he read the label further. “Wait, ‘Non-Alcoholic’? Son of a...”

Neraxis guffawed, spitting wasabi nuts out of her mouth before collecting them from the ground again. “At least it’s chilled.”

“Speaking of which,” Sasha murmured, withdrawing another refrigerated container. “Chocolate Wobble ice cream! It even has spoons.” She passed that along, laughing with delight, immediately taking back everything she said and thought about her father since their departure. What a wonderful way to end the Away Mission- “What the-”

“If it is more insects-” Kit started.

“No, it’s…” Sasha replied absently, withdrawing a plush toy, soft, furry… and intimately familiar. “It’s… Captain Fuzzybutt.”

The Squad looked up at her, Giles asking, “What?”

She held it up carefully to the light. It was indeed her old Starfleet Huggable. It even had the latinum dot and authentication number; she knew that number by heart, what with all the times she had shown it off to her fiercely envious friends. She was stunned. “It’s Captain Fuzzybutt. Dad got him for me when I was seven. It was early on in his relationship with Mom. I was so mean to him back then.” She was overcome; tears poured down her cheeks, in a way that didn’t when she fought with Jared.

Eydiir leaned closer, concerned. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, wiping her face but still staring at her old toy. “I couldn’t find it after the attack on Salem One. After my Mom was killed and Dad went missing. I thought it must have got lost when they packed away all our things and I was shipped to Earth to live with my grandparents. Dad must have found it again when he got access to her possessions.” She hugged it tightly, remembering the feel of it against her cheek, the smell of it. “I never kept it with the others in my collection; it always slept with me when Dad was off on a mission. I’d talk to him through it and- and-” She sniffed and looked up. “Sorry, guys. Some Squad Leader you ended up with, huh?”

“No one’s complaining,” Jonas assured her, smiling.

Eydiir stuck out her jaw. “And if anyone does complain, I will chastise them.” She glared at Giles as she declared this.

Giles had been drinking the fake whiskey, but now stopped and stared back. “Why are you looking at me while you say that?”

“Based on past experience I am assuming that you will be the one to say something foolish.”

“Oh, go polish your kligat, you barbarian.”

Sasha was grinning at them. “You know, I think you two really like each other.”

Both of them looked at her, Eydiir declaring sharply, “A woman embracing a stuffed effigy is in no position to judge others.”

Sasha brought the doll closer, whispering in its ear loudly enough for them to hear, “Don’t listen to them, they’re just jealous.”

Everyone continued munching and drinking away, no one arguing with her.

*

USS Surefoot, Deck 1, 2315 Hours:

Captain Hrelle moved briskly down the corridor, grateful that they were sparse of crew so that no one could see the cheesy grin on his face, and grateful that Lieutenant Abed generously agreed to take over for him earlier than expected, allowing Hrelle to prepare for his date with the delightful Professor Gianopoulis. He wondered how many of his crew would have known or guessed about his plans. Probably everyone; with the size of his crew, it would be easier to reach Warp Ten than keep a secret around here.

He entered his quarters, his mind thinking ahead to what he would wear, only to find someone had already visited, and left out a set of clothes - a fetching white silk V-neck shirt, black trousers and matching shoes - on one of his chairs. Who the hell did this-

He smiled. Thank you, Kami.

He stripped off and hopped into his shower stall, opting for a sonic setting rather than his preferred water, not wanting to waste time having to dry off and groom his fur. He wanted to try and dampen his enthusiasm - after all, Barbara might have changed her mind, or be busy, or he might have been completely wrong about her feelings towards him. Then he remembered their last moments together, earlier that day. No, he wasn’t wrong. He let his enthusiasm glow.

But the glow dampened as he emerged and saw himself in the full-length mirrors surrounding him. He normally bypassed these, not caring much, or pretending not to care much, or just simply finding excuses to look elsewhere. Now, however, he couldn’t ignore them. He looked.

And he hated what he saw.

He was certainly healthier than a year before, when he escaped from slavery: his strength and mobility had returned, he’d put weight back on, and he could eat and sleep most times without difficulty. His overall life expectancy had been reduced, he was told, but for now, he felt good.

It was how he appeared that mattered to him at the moment. He was covered in scars, in burns and permanent bruises that his fur not only couldn’t hide, but which seemed to recede from those many places, as if beaten down by the evidence of his ordeals. He looked like some rag doll crudely assembled and kept together over time, or the artificial monster from that old Terran Gothic novel.

And he knew each and every one of them like an old enemy, a bookmark in the dark chapter of that life: the ringed scars on his wrists and ankles from the chains he wore in the Breen pergium mines; the electrical burns on his thighs and hips when that faulty generator had exploded, killing four other slaves around him; the knife cuts on his belly and arms from the many fights he’d been forced into, and the black scar tissue when a heated poker had been driven into his sternum as punishment for refusing to kill a wounded opponent; the whip marks on his back, from far too many occasions to recount.

And then there was the base of his spine, and the ugly black place where the Bel-Zon had cut off his tail and cauterised the wound with an energy weapon, for no other reason than to hurt him and make him beg and plead for a mercy they were never going to show him.

Had he been crazy? Was he really going to show off this body to Barbara? He’d give her nightmares!

He reached for his robe in disgust and slipped back into it, his heart racing, his breath shallow and rapid as he left the bathroom, stopping by his bed. He felt dizzy, and missed the side of the bed as he slid down to the floor, unable to catch a breath. He reached out to his bedside table before he passed out, grabbing the combadge he had left there earlier and tapping it. “Capt- Captain Hrelle- Counsel- Counselor-”

Thankfully the computer was smart enough to interpret his ragged words, as Kami’s voice replied. “Captain? What’s wrong?”

“H-Help-”

“I’m on my way!”

Hrelle nodded to no one in particular, dropping the combadge and curling up, focusing on his breathing. Seconds later, he heard his door slide open, and smelled the Counselor as she raced in, kneeling beside him, touching his cheek as she helped him back into a sitting position, murmuring softly, “It’s okay, just breathe in through your nose… slowly, deeply, gently… now let it out through your mouth… count to five… breathe in again…”

He nodded weakly to her, remembering the techniques for managing panic attacks, but grateful for her presence nevertheless. He never had attacks like this until he had escaped, when his mind could finally process what had happened to him and he had to deal with the effects rather than just focus on surviving. But they had eased in number and intensity in the months since he had started counseling. This one, however, was as strong as it had been unexpected.

“That’s it, good, good,” she said. She was clad in a sweat-soaked vest and shorts; when she saw him looking, she remarked, “I was taking advantage of the cadets being planetside to get some intense exercise in at the gym; usually when they’re around and see me there, they get… distracted.” She smiled. “Another few minutes, and you’d have caught me in the shower, and that wouldn’t have done either of us any good.”

He nodded. “S-Sorry to have called you-”

“Save it, I’m not onboard this ship just to look sexy.” She rose, entered his bathroom and returned with a small glass of cool water, squatting down again and offering it to him.

He accepted it gratefully, drinking deeply. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She leaned back on her haunches. “So… ready to talk about it?”

“It just- I was overwhelmed-”

“I guessed what happened. I want to know what triggered it.”

He started to reply, but then found himself saying, “I- I don’t know. I’m probably just overworked.” He was helping himself back to his feet. “Would you please call Professor Gianopoulis, explain to her that I have to cancel tonight?”

She rose as well. “Well... I could. Or you could just tell me the truth.”

He stiffened. “I’ve told you the truth. Something happened, that’s all, and I can’t let her see me tonight. Maybe the next time we’re in orbit. Tell her something. Tell her anything you want, I don’t care.”

She nodded back. “Ahh, that makes sense.”

“What does?”

She drew closer. “What you just said. ‘I can’t let her see me tonight’. Not ‘I can’t see her tonight’, what anyone else would have said. I should have anticipated this.”

Hrelle shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

In response, she reached out and tried peeling open his robe.

He pulled back.

She nodded to him. “Take that off.”

“What? Why?”

“Why not? We’re Caitians; what’s nudity to us?”

“I don’t want to.”

“A part of you does; the part that wants help. The part that called me instead of Dr Ling or T’Varik or someone else. Because you knew I wouldn’t stand for your crap. That I’d help you accept the truth.”

“Oh? And what truth is that?”

She gave him a look, as if silently chiding him for making her go through the motions. “It only just occurred to you that the Professor might see you naked tonight. And apart from doctors, no one has seen you like that since you escaped slavery, and doctors aren’t going to be judgemental. You refused to get your tail and claws replaced and your wounds removed because you didn’t want others or yourself to forget what happened to you. But now, that stance has triggered a wellspring of self-doubt about how you might look to a potential lover.”

He was feeling hot again, hot and dizzy, and he wanted to be alone. “I’m sorry I bothered you, Counselor. You can go now.”

“No.”

His anger rose. “Leave! That’s an order!”

Kami seemed to consider his command, and then turned as if to obey. He should have known better, as he watched her walk over to his desk and activate the intercom. “Counselor Shall to Commander T’Varik.”

“T’Varik here.”

Kami shot Hrelle a look. “Effective immediately, the Captain is on indefinite medical leave. Please acknowledge.”

“Acknowledged. T’Varik out.”

He stood there, in abject disbelief. Twenty years as a starship captain, and no member of his crew had ever treated him like this! “Rescind that order! NOW!”

“Kiss my furry pink lips.”

He almost bared his teeth at her. “I’ll get Dr Ling to override it!”

She approached him again, shaking the ponytail out of her mane. “Do you really think Dr Ling is going to take your side over mine?”

Then she started undressing.

He stepped back. “What are you doing?”

“Showing you how it’s done, since you seem to have forgotten.” She pulled her vest up over her head and cast it aside, quickly following it with her bra, before kicking off her training shoes and reaching for the waistband of her shorts and knickers. “See how easy it is- why are you looking away? Do you want to insult me?”

His breath quickened as he faced her, keeping his gaze above her shoulders; he’d seen her in various states of undress before, but never to this degree. His discomfort was bizarre, given how they were raised on their homeworld; no doubt his time away among more modest humans hadn’t helped. “Kami, please- don’t do this-”

“Esek,” she replied simply, solemnly, “I swear on my cub’s life: I’m doing this to help you, not to hurt you, or humiliate you. But you know that already.”

He looked into her eyes, hating her for taking that oath - an oath he couldn’t possibly ignore, not without irrevocably damaging their relationship. “That’s a dirty trick.”

“Yes,” she admitted, unrepentant. “You should have figured out by now that when it comes to helping the people I love, I’m a no-holds-barred, dirty bitch fighter - and yes, I said I love you, Esek, you don’t have to have a cub over it.” She smiled. “Come on, Captain. Don’t leave me feeling all naked and vulnerable here.”

He swallowed, averting his eyes as he finally undid the cord of his robe. This was stupid, he told himself- not having to undress, but being made to undress.

He cast the robe aside and stood there.

Kami looked at him - not with judgement, or derision, or flirtation. Just compassion. “Now turn around.”

He fought the urge to cover himself as he turned in place.

When he faced her again, she nodded to the bed. “Lie down.”

“Lie down? Why?”

“Because it’s more comfortable than the floor. Because I’m tired and want a rest. Because I asked.” She smiled. “Think of it as practice for when you’re sharing a bed with the Professor, so you don’t accidentally kick her out in the middle of the night.”

He shook his head - but lay down anyway, on his back. And Kami lay down beside him, on her side, facing him. She draped her mane down, letting her tail rise and sway as if from an errant breeze, and then grunted. “Mother’s Cubs, you look like I’m about to stab you in the heart. Relax.” She rose up onto one elbow. “You know, your trouble is that your senses are too limited.”

“Counselor, we’re Caitians. We see in the dark, we-”

“Yeah, yeah, we see in the dark, we can track a gnat’s fart across the Alpha Quadrant, I’ve heard it all before.” She reached up and gently rapped her knuckles on his forehead. “I mean that you’re limited to your own viewpoint, your own history.

You act like the Professor’s first impression of you will be tonight when you’re naked. But you’ve spent all day with her: working, talking, eating, flirting. She’s seen you at your most relaxed, has watched you interact with the crew, has heard you talk about Sasha and Hannah. And I can guarantee you that she will already know about your background; you’re a bit of a celebrity in this sector of space. She’s a smart woman. She knows what you are by now.”

“Oh? And what’s that?” he asked quietly, wanting and not wanting to know the answer.

Kami’s eyes lit with genuine regard. “Someone who’s been through the Seven Hells. Someone who would have every right to emerge from that a bitter, angry, self-centred, self-destructive man.

But he’s not. Instead, he has proven to be kind, compassionate, humorous, patient, loving. A caring Captain, a loving and doting father, a loyal friend.” Her fingertips reached out and lightly traced along his arm and shoulder, making the fur rise slightly. “And you have this combination of strength and gentleness that I know more than a few people find incredibly attractive.”

“People? What people?”

“Never mind. You’re someone they can trust to take care of them.”

“Trust, huh? Like some faithful hound?”

Her expression sobered. “Don’t belittle trust, Esek. There are so many people in the Universe, and so few you can trust, and I mean fully trust.” She rested her arms on his chest, and her head on her arms. “I have an extended clan of elder males, brothers, uncles, cousins, nephews. Scores of them. And if I needed them, they would come, and would do everything they could for me. But I’ve only ever known two males to whom I would trust implicitly to care and protect my cub and myself.” She paused. “One was my late husband. The other is beside me right now.”

He stared at her, too moved to say anything.

Fortunately, she continued. “The scars are nothing. The burns are nothing. Nothing but confirmation to anyone who sees them that you took on the worst that life could throw at you, and you came out of it not only stronger, but better.” Now she smirked. “And you know, you’re really not bad looking. I love the muzzle and the eyes and the scent - Great Mother, your scent is exquisite! - and the broad shoulders and the warm voice. And I have a particular fondness for this belly, imagining feeling it against me…”

She sat up now. “I promise you, you won’t regret seeing her. And neither will she. Because if you are half as good a lover as you are a Captain, a father and a friend, then you’re gonna leave a very satisfied woman down there.” She grinned. “And by ‘down there’, I mean-”

“Yes, I can guess.” He smiled feeling more relaxed than he could have imagined. “Thank you, Kami. I owe you one.”

At his words, she took on a tentative, vulnerable expression now. “You want to pay me back? Let me lie with you for a few minutes. That’s all, just lie here. It’s been a long, long time since I’ve been close with one of our own kind… you know what I mean.”

He did; in fact, he had left his world beside so long ago, the proximity of one of their own was a distant memory. He lay back, stretching out an arm in silent invitation.

Kami curled up against him, one leg over his, tail drifting over to touch his belly, her face resting on his chest, breathing in his scent.

It was remarkably quiet, remarkably intimate. He relished it more than he thought possible. It was comforting.

It was also… arousing.

And judging from Kami’s chuckling, she noticed it, too. “Well… the Professor is in for a treat. My cue to leave, I think.” She rose and reached for her clothes, back to her usual self.

He followed. “And be sure to let T’Varik know I’m no longer on medical leave, I don’t want to have to argue with her later.”

“No need; she and I have an arrangement already: if I call her and tell her that you were on medical leave, she should just play along, that it’s part of your therapy.”

“What? That’s… outrageous!”

She stuck her tongue at his reaction to that. “Come on, Captain, you have an appointment to give a lady a limp and a smile…”

*

Luntanu at midnight was as hot as anything Hrelle remembered from his homeworld, and suddenly he felt overdressed; it took a lot to make his people sweat, but this planet could do it. He had beamed down as arranged in the centre of a wide collection of domed structures, the homes, workplaces and storage areas of the archaeological outpost, interspersed with tall, thin light posts; he picked up the hum of an energised perimeter fence in the darkness beyond, and further out, the sounds of the jungle. He took in the scents, and glanced up at the moons: a large white pockmarked sphere followed by a smaller red echo.

“About time.”

He turned to see Barbara standing in the open doorway of the nearest dome. She stepped out towards him. “I was worried you might have been caught up with some starship business.”

He approached her as well. “A galactic invasion wouldn’t have stopped me. But… if you are still aggrieved at my tardiness, allow me to make it up to you somehow.” He saw that she was clad in a simple white linen dress and sandals, something that looked cool and comfortable in this heat… and very reminiscent of the clothes back on Cait. Her mass of black curly hair cascaded down behind her.

She smiled up into his eyes. “Oh? And have you any ideas on how to do that?”

When they met, his hand moved naturally up to her cheek, lightly stroking it as he looked into her moonlit eyes. “I always have ideas.” He watched her shiver as his touch moved to the curve of her ear, then down to her neck, watching her head tilt back and she closed her eyes. He brought his muzzle down to her neck and began purring, nipping slightly at her skin. Barbara pressed against him, slipping her arms around him and holding on tightly as she whimpered, her breath quickening.

They drew back, still holding onto each other as she murmured, “Let’s get inside, I think I've given my colleagues enough to gossip about in the morning.”

The cooler, climate-controlled interior of her quarters was lit by soft lanterns here and there, and filled with old-fashioned furniture, real books, and numerous paintings of Luntanu’s moons, its jungles, and some small primates. “Your works? You’re very good.”

She moved to an entertainment unit at the far wall. “Don’t let my parents hear that; they still say I should have taken up art instead of archaeology.” The room filled with a gentle sound of classical guitar, as she ventured to a small table. “I know you just came off a shift, so maybe you’re hungry?”

Hrelle drew closer to the table where she had stopped, where a small platter of recognisable snacks of various types and origins sat, awaiting them. She looked up at him again. “I ordered what few Caitian recipes we have in our database. Now you can taste for yourself what we have to put up with here.”

He looked over the selection, choosing what looked like a sandwich of grilled shuris meat and blood mustard. “That’s very kind of you, thanks.” He bit into it, chewing and making sounds. “Mmm… Mmm… Oh, yes…” He swallowed, looking at her. “Yes, that’s definitely shit.”

She laughed softly. “Told you. Don’t hold it against me.”

He looked back at her, his voice low, melodic, as he took her hand to draw her in again. “I didn’t come here for the food, Barbara.”

But as he was about to nuzzle into her neck again, she reached up between them, pressing a hand against his chest. “Wait… I have to tell you something before this goes any further.”

He stopped, hoping he hadn’t done something wrong, had misinterpreted the signs somehow. “What is it?”

She breathed in, looking a little anxious now. “There was a scientist here. We were involved, for a time…” She sighed. “He got too serious about it, and eventually I had to break up with him. He left on the last ship that served this sector, before yours took over.”

Something like embarrassment crossed her features. “I’m very attracted to you, Esek, and there’s light years of obvious difference between you and him. I think we can have some fun together. But you have to know I’m not looking for a life partner.”

He drew back a little and nodded, understanding all too well. He nodded. “Oh, I see. I get it. You’re just using me for sex. Mindless sex.”

Her face paled. “I- I didn’t mean-”

“Because if that’s the case, I’m really quite happy with that.”

The anxiety bubbling in the woman’s eyes now seemed to simmer again. “You are?”

His hand moved up to draw back her hair. “I’m just restarting my life, and trying to reconnect with my little girl - who is no longer little, and who has grown up far too much too quickly for my liking - and so I’m definitely not ready for another partner, either.”

He nodded thoughtfully as he continued to speak, while his hand moved down from her face to her shoulder. “And since we’re now being upfront, I should tell you that it’s been over seven years since I’ve had sex with a woman.”

His hand moved down further, tracing the outline of her breast through her dress, making her close her eyes and shiver in his embrace. “And now there’s this very attractive-looking, attractive-smelling woman in front of me whom I really want to bed.”

Barbara’s breath quickened. “Are you- Are you sure-”

He drew her in closer, reaching around, relishing the supple feel of her flesh. “I should warn you, though, it’s been so long, we may have to do it more than once. Just to make sure I remember how everything works. May have to be at it all night, in fact.”

She nodded against his shoulder. “W-Whatever you have to do, I’ll understand.”

“Thank you, you’re very kind.” Hrelle reached down, sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her into the area he smelled was her bedroom, thankful she had a large bed that proved to have a firm mattress. He lay her down, carefully but with anticipation, as he hovered over her, nuzzling once more into her neck. He whispered in her ear, “I’m sorry my people don’t have lips to kiss. But we do have tongues.”

And as if to prove it, his tongue darted out and licked along her ear, before he descended along her body, making her arc beneath him.

Suddenly she seemed distracted. “Oh no- Shit!”

From where he was, he asked, “What is it?”

“I don’t believe it! I forgot to shave my legs! I’m sorry-”

Now Hrelle stopped where he was and chuckled, making her look down at him as he asked, “Do I look like body hair is going to be a dealbreaker for me?”

*

Planet Luntanu, Alpha Squad Campsite, 0810 Hours:

Alpha Squad was dismantling the campsite, disposing of their trash and packing up the shelters and equipment for their storage back on the shuttle. Giles hefted one of the heating units, grunting as he quipped, “I think we’re taking back more than we brought with us.”

“That is very true, Friend Giles,” Kit confirmed, still looking forlornly at a world of flying insects he couldn’t eat without severe gastric repercussions. “We have many samples, and much data.”

“No, I mean substantial bulk. Anyone bringing back any souvenirs?”

“Yes,” Eydiir replied, easily lifting one of the other units. “I packed that piece of temple you broke off, for your court martial.”

Sitting on a rock near the smouldering remains of their campfire, Sasha looked up from her PADD. “Are you sure I can’t help, guys?”

Neraxis and Jonas were busy folding up the last of the shelters, the Bolian shouting, “Just focus on that! I want those replicator credits! Scrappy and I are gonna pool ours together and make us a mud bath on the secondary hull!”

Jonas looked up at her. “We are?”

“Yeah, we agreed last night when you were asleep. We’ll even get Chief Grev in on it, you know how much Tellarites love mud baths! Can you imagine the three of us naked together, wallowing about?”

Jonas’ expression told them that he did, all too well.

Sasha returned to her work, kicking herself for not finishing it off last night. Well, she corrected, technically it was already finished. Just not to her satisfaction. They had removed all the bad bits from it, anything that might put them in a negative light. Now what they had left was nice, safe. Boring.

False.

Kit was right, that they had to be true to themselves.

She began making changes once again to the report.

When she was done, she saved her work and rose, stretching her legs and feeling the need to empty her bladder; although they were leaving and no longer needed to secure their perimeter, they had packed up the portable toilet, so the bushes needed one more visit. When she was done, she dressed and rose, looking around once more- “TaHqeq Sa’Hut!”

Her father stood there, wearing some loose-fitting civilian clothes, beside an unknown woman with thick black curly hair and a freckled face. “And good morning to you, too. Barbara, I’m delighted for you to meet my daughter, Sasha. She’s a talented girl, able to pee in the open and swear in Klingon just like her mother. Sasha, this is Professor Barbara Gianopoulis, head of the research team on Luntanu.”

Red-faced, Sasha approached, waving a hand at the stranger. “Uh, pleasure to meet you, Professor. Sorry about, uh… everything you see and here from me.”

The woman smiled accepted her hand. “Pleasure to meet you, too. And there’s nothing to apologise for. I’ve lost track of the number of fields I’ve peed in or petaQ administrators I’ve cursed out for not supplying essential equipment on time.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.” Sasha stepped back and looking at her father. “Is there a problem, Sir? I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Problem? No, no, I wasn’t here to check up on any of you, honest. It’s just that Barbara had told me that the sunrises on Luntanu were spectacular.” He nodded. “She was right. Did you see it?”

“No, Sir.” She looked at both of them curiously: the first-name basis, the casual proximity. You’d think that they-

She saw bite marks on the woman’s neck, barely hidden by her hair.

Oh…

She did her best to hide her reaction, but she should have known her father would have seen something there. He turned to his companion. “Would you mind if I have a quick word with my daughter for a moment, Barbara?”

“Not at all, Esek.”

Hrelle approached Sasha, taking her by the elbow and guiding her to one side, asking her softly, “Are you okay?”

She nodded, flushing a little.

“You… know, don’t you?”

“It’s… pretty obvious, Dad. How could you? You only just met her!”

“How much time does one need?” He looked concerned as he drew closer. “This wasn’t exactly planned, Sasha. It just happened.”

“Oh really?”

He frowned, drawing closer to her, his voice low, sympathetic. “Yes, really. I am sorry if I’ve upset you, it was never my intention to do so. But I’m hoping you’ll understand.”

“Understand?” Memories of her fight with Jared the night before returned, his taunts that her Dad was little better than an animal running on sexual instinct. She told him that her Dad loved her Mom. Now, to see him here, in the company of another woman, after- after-

After what? she asked herself.

She knew they loved each other. But Mom died seven years ago. Did Sasha really expect him to stop loving, to stop living now? Is that what Mom would want for him? Is that how she would want Sasha to behave towards him?

No. She shook her head, feeling guilty now for her first reaction. “You just surprised me, that’s all. I’m okay.”

He nodded, smiling. “Thank you.” He drew closer, pressing his muzzle against her forehead - but then sniffed and drew back. “Seven Hells, you stink of sweat, animal dung… and what happened to your uniform?”

“Long story.”

He looked ready to question her further, before finally shaking his head. “Well, I look forward to hearing all about it tonight at the party. The Professor and her party will be attending as well, you can meet up with her again and swap exotic profanity and interesting stories about where you two have peed.”

“Looking forward to it- oh, wait!” She drew in again and hugged him. “Thank you! For Captain Fuzzybutt, and all the snacks!”

He hugged her back. “You’re very welcome… now go, please, your funk could down a Klingon.”

She showed him how many middle fingers she had on her right hand, before turning it into a wave goodbye at Gianopoulis. “See you onboard, Professor- oh, Professor? You know that temple-like structure on the trail near the slopes? Um, hypothetically, if a very small piece of a wall was accidentally phasered off, would we be in a lot of trouble?”

Hrelle’s jaw dropped.

Gianopoulis looked back in bemusement, occasionally glancing at Hrelle as if to confirm that Sasha was being serious. “Well… we try not to damage any sites as a general rule. Having said that, we already scanned and excavated that area, and if there had been any issues we would have asked Starfleet to put you guys elsewhere. And of course the jungle and elements have been working on the structure for thousands of years already, so… I wouldn’t worry too much.”

She smiled with relief. “Thank you.” Then she fled before her father could question her further.

Sasha returned to the campsite, where the others had witnessed the exchange, Giles asking, “What was your Dad doing down here?”

She picked up her PADD and Captain Fuzzybutt before replying. “He, ah, spent the night with one of the archaeologists.”

“Ooh, the Captain got some!” Neraxis cooed, before dropping her smile as she looked at Sasha. “Unless, of course, that’s a terrible thing. In which case: Bad Captain! Bad!”

“It’s not terrible,” Sasha assured them. “She seems… nice, you know? And he seems to like her.”

“This is not surprising, Respected Squad Leader,” Kit informed her. “Archaeologists, after all, are experts at dating.”

The group looked at him, while his throat puffed and he made a wheezing sound of Qarari amusement at his own joke.

“That was-” Giles started, but then changed his tone and admitted, “That wasn’t half bad, actually.”

“Guys,” Sasha announced, regaining their attention, and not believing she was saying this. “I’ve made a decision. I’m turning in the full, uncensored report.”

“Are you serious?” Giles exclaimed. “We’ll look like idiots!”

“We are idiots - sometimes. We make mistakes. But we also come up with good things, too. Yeah, I had us bring down all that cold weather gear, but Jonas showed off his expertise and fashioned some coolers and bug zappers. And yeah, Kit got sick eating bugs he shouldn’t have, but then Eydiir identified that virus and alerted the other squads about it. And yeah, you broke a building, but then you discovered those carvings on the wall. And sure, Tusky attacked our camp and set our uniforms on fire, but we came up with an elegant low-tech means of keeping the animals away. And yes, I ate monkey crap, but- but-”

She looked to the others for a bright side to that. None was forthcoming.

“Look,” she continued regardless. “I know we probably won’t win, unless the others had done far worse, like maybe sacrificing one of their members to the Shriekers, but so what? It’s been fun. And if you’re really wanting those replicator credits, you can have all of mine, and I’ll live on these rations for a while. They’re really not that bad once you get used to them.”

“They are appalling,” Eydiir declared, setting down the crate she was holding. “But I agree. We stand and face the Universe as we are, and woe betide any who would challenge that.”

“Yeah, what she says,” Giles agreed, smiling. “Though maybe less Shakespearean. Let’s give them who we are, warts and all.”

“I have no warts, Respected Squad Leader,” Kit confessed. “But I will be proud to admit my faults, in what I have done and what I have failed to do, and I will support my friends in doing the same.”

“Well, I guess my plans for a mud bath will have to wait,” Neraxis groused, though not too convincingly.

Jonas grunted. “I don’t care if we don’t win. I just don’t want Mr Handsome Jerk to win. He doesn’t deserve it for the way he treated you.”

“Hear, hear!” Eydiir declared. “And remember, my offer of infecting him with an intense fungus is still there.”

“As is my disgust at the offer… but thanks again. All of you.” She smiled - and then snapped, “Kit! You’re gonna make yourself sick again!”

The Qarari stood there, eyes wide with guilt, with a large four-winged insect half-hanging out of his mouth, and white goo seeping from it down his chin.

“I’m not sitting next to him on the ride home,” Neraxis promised.

*

USS Surefoot, Deck 1, Mess Hall/Lounge, 2000 Hours:

It had never been this crowded before, as far as Sasha recalled, with the scientists and support staff from the planet joining the crew and cadets for the buffet and general mingling, before the Squad Leaders presented their reports to the crowd.

Now Sasha was beginning to get nerves, though she put it down at least partly to having to speak before others, rather than any specific doubts about changing the content of her report once again. It was too late, anyway; the Squad Leaders were required to hand in their PADDs to Commander T’Varik immediately upon arriving back on the Surefoot, to prevent them from using the superior facilities onboard to make improvements.

Then she had spent the hours between arriving back and now obtaining a new uniform, and staying in the sonic shower for as long as it took to remove the dirt and stink from the planet. And she also spent the time thinking. She supposed she was worried about the outcome. She had no idea how T’Varik would react to the contents. What if the Vulcan decided as a result of all this that Sasha was an unfit Squad Leader, and replaced her with Giles, or even kicked her out of the AWE Program all together?

Now at the party, she looked at the other Squad Leaders, to see if they were equally nervous. Of course not; Falok was as implacably Vulcan as ever, and Jared… well, when Jared wasn’t flirting with some of the female cadets on Falok’s squad, he was glowering in Sasha’s direction, clearly still angry about the night before, though he seemed to have recovered from the punch she gave her. To the Seven Hells with him, she told herself. She was glad he hadn’t been her first.

Falok had given a good, dry, professional report to the crowd, as had Jared, each receiving polite applause. Then it was Sasha’s turn, and she fought to control her pulse as she reached the podium and connected her PADD to the display behind her for the multimedia evidence from her report. She looked out at her Squad, who were giving her signs of support - as did her father, standing beside Professor Gianopoulis. His pride was like the light of a nova.

She hoped this didn’t disappoint him. “Good evening. I am Alpha Squad Leader Sasha Hrelle.” Behind her, images of her crew appeared as she introduced each in turn. “My squad consists of Pilot and Second in Command Giles Arrington, Medical Specialist Eydiir Daughter-of-Kaas, Science Specialist Kitirik Abyss Zuinthinem Emijiz, Engineering Specialist Jonas Ostrow, Security Specialist Neraxis Nemm…” She paused, waiting for their reaction to the final image. “And Morale Officer Captain Fuzzybutt.”

The crowd laughed, mostly, with a few looking around to see if it was okay to laugh. And it continued in that vein for the rest of the report, as she illustrated the achievements of her team, and their faults, while also providing the requisite scientific data on the flora and fauna and the remains of the alien structures. T’Varik and Falok stayed implacably Vulcan, of course, and the only one making an active attempt to appear negative was Jared, wearing a perpetual sneer and making Sasha wonder if Eydiir had made good on her threat to infect his crotch with a fungus.

She received an enthusiastic response when she finished and returned to her friends, and T’Varik took the podium and waited for silence and attention before proceeding. “Congratulations to all the cadets for their efforts in this exercise. You have provided informative and interesting reports, and there will be more detailed critiques sent to your individual stations.

There will also be letters of commendation on record for exceptional work for the following individuals: Engineering Specialist Yeager of Gamma Squad, for developing an integrated scanning technique to increase the range and accuracy of his squad’s tricorders by 13%; Science Specialist Tomar of Beta Squad, for her analysis of the geological formations with a focus on recent volcanic activity as the cause of the disappearance of the indigenous population; and Medical Specialist Daughter-of-Kaas of Alpha Squad, for her work identifying a potentially lethal pathogen within the local insect life, developing a treatment and alerting the other squads.”

There was more applause, and slaps on the back for Eydiir, who tried her best to remain her usual stoic Capellan self and not look pleased… and only partly succeeded.

As the crowd settled again, T’Varik continued. “As for the competition for best report: the replicator credits are awarded to Cadet Falok and Gamma Squad.”

Sasha looked over at the young Vulcan, who bowed slightly as his squad and everyone else applauded and cheered. Sasha joined them, genuinely pleased for their success, before reaching for an offered glass of juice, her throat dry.

T’Varik departed the podium, striding up to her. “Cadet Hrelle, I trust you understand that, based on the parameters set at the start of this exercise, that your mistakes outweighed your achievements, and so I could not award your squad the prize.”

“Having heard Falok’s report, Commander, I would agree that his was the most deserving,” Sasha assured her. “And it doesn’t matter. We didn’t join Starfleet to win prizes, but to gain knowledge and experience.”

“Indeed. I might also recommend that you omit your Morale Officer from any future reports.”

“Understood. Captain Fuzzybutt doesn’t like the attention, anyway.”

T’Varik raised an eyebrow, but then continued. “The PADDs the Squad Leaders used also contained the draft versions of their reports, which I also perused. The other squads edited out instances of mistakes they had made during the course of the exercise, to appear less self-critical. You, however, ending up going in the opposite direction. May I ask why you chose this course?”

Sasha glanced down into the contents of her drink, as if seeking the answers there. “Honesty and integrity are meant to be Starfleet virtues; that includes those times when it puts us in a bad light. And we are meant to be learning out here. How can you teach us if you don’t know where we’ve gone wrong? As the Terran playwright Oscar Wilde once wrote, ‘Experience is the name men give to their mistakes’.”

Kit nodded beside her. “We have proven to be very experienced on this mission.”

The Vulcan looked to each of them in turn, before focusing on Sasha once more. “If it is any consolation to you, keep in mind that, though you may have lost the competition… you have gained my respect.”

Sasha filled up at the words. “Thank you, Commander.”

T’Varik nodded and departed. But then Sasha caught up with her. “Commander… may I have a private word with you, please?”

The Vulcan nodded, leading her to an unoccupied corner of the room, where she invited, “You may proceed.”

Sasha took in a breath; in for a penny… “Commander, I wanted you to know that in the past couple of weeks, I had been in a secret relationship with Cadet Miro. Nothing has happened between us beyond kissing - more or less - but we had planned to go further when we were off the ship and on the planet. I know this was wrong of us.”

“Agreed.”

“But when I did meet with him, I stopped, and nothing further happened. I promise, Commander, I was only with him last night for a minute or two-”

“2.35 minutes,” T’Varik corrected.

“Commander?”

“It was 2.35 minutes, including the time you spent in his shelter, and then outside afterwards when you assaulted him.” At the girl’s expression she elaborated. “I have been monitoring all of the cadet activities on the planet.” She folded her hands behind her back. “Cadet, leaving aside the violation of Regulation 121, I should not have to remind you that assaulting a fellow cadet is a serious offence.”

“No, Ma’am. And I am prepared to accept any punishment you deem appropriate.”

“Fortunately for you, Cadet Miro had a different story to tell: he denied being in any relationship with you, that you visited his shelter uninvited, attempted to seduce him, and then struck him when he refused you.”

“What?” She couldn’t believe he would have said that! “That lying bastard!” She bit her lip. “Sorry, Ma’am.”

“I cannot confirm or deny the legitimacy of his parentage, but the adjective is accurate, as I proved when I presented him with the transcripts of his earlier combadge conversations with you; that is why he now has a permanent note on his record for lying to a superior officer.

As for your own violation of the regulation, you are equally fortunate in that earlier, I suspended Academy Regulations 118-121 while you and the other cadets serve onboard this ship. This suspension is of course subject to the cadets’ maturity to handle it, however. You may resume your relationship with Mr Miro openly now, if you desire.”

“Thank you, Commander, but I definitely do not desire. He… said something about my father.”

The Vulcan nodded. “Given what I know about you, it is not surprising that such an action would be your… dealbreaker. Although I would still caution against acting in an aggressive manner, despite the provocation. As you go through life, you will no doubt encounter many people whom you will wish to pummel, for various reasons. Do not make it your default response.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Sasha flushed, looking over at Jared and blushing. “I feel like an idiot, being interested in him. We’ve nothing in common except being here. Don’t know what was wrong with me.”

T’Varik raised an eyebrow. “I suspect it was because, as the human expression goes, ‘Your brains were in your pants’.” At the girl’s reaction, she continued. “Sasha, I am your Academy Liaison and your instructor. But, may I be permitted to speak with you as another woman… and hopefully also a friend?”

Sasha, clearly surprised by the request, nodded and replied, “Yes, please.”

“I recognise that those at your age are often compelled to fully experience all that adulthood has to offer, especially when the biological imperative seems overwhelming. But perhaps you might consider this: you will remain an adult for the rest of your life. You do not need to rush into such experiences, simply because you can. Especially when the experiences involve those like Mr Miro, who, frankly, is not worthy of you.”

Sasha looked up at the woman, moved by her words. “Thank you.”

“And, should you ever need further advice in this capacity, I will always be available.”

Sasha smiled. “Thank you again, T’Varik.”

“Sasha?”

Both women turned to see Hrelle and Professor Gianopoulis approach, the Captain beaming as he hugged her. “Marvellous report! Very entertaining!”

“Thanks. But it wasn’t very professional.”

“I’ve sat through too many lectures that were as dry and dusty as the digs they detailed,” Gianopoulis informed her. “Yours I’ll remember, and for all the good reasons.”

For a moment, Sasha thought that the woman was being ingratiating in order to curry favour with her and get closer to her father - but then she kicked herself for such thoughts. She also wondered if her father and the Professor would be spending the night together onboard, and then accepted it wasn’t her business. She smiled back at the older woman. “Thank you, Professor. I appreciate that.” To her father she asked, “May I return to my squad, Sir? We’ve just learned that we can have alcohol now, and we want to get to the replicators before the other squads find out.”

“I don’t blame you. Go on.” But as she turned to depart, he added, “Sash?”

She looked back at him.

“Your Mom would be very proud of you.”

Sasha grinned and left.

Hrelle turned to T’Varik. “Excellent work on the exercise, Commander, you have my compliments. But you’ve been awake for over 24 hours now. You must be exhausted. Get some sleep, you don’t have to stay for this.”

“It has in fact been 39.86 hours, to be precise, Captain, including the preparation for the exercise beforehand. But your point is well taken. Good evening, Sir, Professor.”

T’Varik left them and started for the door, when she saw Kami, standing apart, an attendant at the party without engaging in anyone unless approached. The Vulcan understood the reaction, having behaved in an identical fashion when required to attend an interminable number of official functions, but did not expect this response from the usually-gregarious Caitian, and approached. “Is there a problem, Counselor?”

The other woman was cradling a glass of dark purple wine, and dressed in her formal Starfleet uniform, her tail hanging limply behind her. “No, Commander. No problem at all.”

“I observe that this is not your usual position within a party. It is rather distant from the figurative heart of it.”

Kami shrugged. “But it’s an ideal place to observe others, and anticipate what I might be talking about with them in counseling sessions later.” She nodded to various areas. “I see Sasha and Jared have broken up while they were on the planet; I’m sure there’s a good story there. Oh, and Mr Gorman is politely listening to another one of Lt. Abed’s boring Starfleet Marine stories. All around, I can see jealousies and irritations and-”

“And presumably also the relationship between Captain Hrelle and Professor Gianopoulis?” T’Varik prompted.

Kami stared at the other woman. “Of course.” She drank again. “Another reason to stay back. He doesn’t need my scent to distract him.”

“Or his scent to distract you?”

A sly smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Who’s the Counselor here?”

“If I am intruding in your personal affairs, I apologise-”

Kami shook her head. “You may not admit it, but we’re friends, so you’re free to say whatever you want to me. And yes, I&nbspam attracted to him. But as tempting as it would be to make it otherwise, he needs me now more as a Counselor than as a partner. And the relationship he has now with the Professor will be good for both of them.”

“But it must still be difficult for you to see them together.”

“I can manage it.” The Counselor finished her drink, staring into the remains of her glass. “I know I don’t appear it compared to yourself, but I can be quite logical in my own right.”

“Yes, you can. And contrary to what you have said, I can admit that we are friends. I am in fact honoured to do so.” She folded her hands behind her back. “Would you care to have a sleepover with me?”

Kami looked up at her. “Excuse me? A sleepover?”

“I believe that is the appropriate term. Following periods of extended wakefulness such as I have just undergone, I tend to experience certain… emotional disturbances, disturbances that solo meditation is ill-equipped to manage within an allotted time frame. You, however, are qualified in collaborative meditative techniques, and may assist me in, as the human expression goes, ‘winding down’.” She paused and added, “I also believe Caitian females enjoy sleeping with each other, for grooming and general companionship.”

“Yes, we do. And it’s been a while since I’ve enjoyed something like that.”

“I also suspect that you would appreciate an excuse to be elsewhere tonight.”

The Caitian grunted. “I can’t argue with that. She set aside her emptied glass. “Let’s go.”

They departed - though not before the Vulcan noticed Kami taking a final look in the Captain’s direction…
-

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