Secrets and Lies

WARNING: PROFANITY, VIOLENCE, ADULT AND EMOTIONALLY DISTRESSING SITUATIONS

Shuttlecraft Sureswift, Deep Space:

Sasha Hrelle and Giles Arrington dressed in quiet, by the light of a PADD sitting on the floor of the sleeping compartment. She stretched out the time adjusting her boot, more than once, in order to work out something to say. She had to say something to him after losing their virginity to each other. Didn’t she? I mean, she had been vocal enough at the time, with stifled cries to God, assorted profanity, and complaints about some sharp object that had been sticking into her when she was on the floor and he was on top. What was it, anyway- Oh, it was the corner of her combadge, which must have fallen off the table when they had decided the bunk was too narrow and awkward and the floor was roomier.

And then they fell asleep, not even thinking about what would have happened if her father had come in and seen them lying on the floor, entwined.

She had to say something.

Anything.

Come on, you stupid cow… “Good work.”

He looked up, looking pale and as confused as she felt. “Uh, thanks. You too.”

They nodded to each other as they continued dressing. Terrific, she thought. That’ll be up there with the love sonnets of Shakespeare, Shelley and Tarbolde of Canopus. “Let’s- let’s not tell my father about this, okay?”

“No, no, of course not.”

Sasha nodded with some satisfaction. The last thing they needed was Dad getting involved.

They blinked as they emerged into the bright light of the rest of the Sureswift, which continued on its race back to its mothership the Surefoot. The cockpit was unoccupied, though that wasn’t too worrying, as it worked mostly on autopilot and would alert the rest of the ship to any problems or incoming transmissions.

Her father was in the aft section, where he sat hunched over the table, working an engineering tool on a transtator panel. His tongue poked out the side of his muzzle in concentration as he focused on some delicate work. “Morning, you two. At least I think it’s morning. What’s the time, Giles?”

“The time, Sir?” He glanced at the chronometer on the adjacent wall. “0833 Hours.”

“Thanks. Sit down. I’ll be done in a minute.”

They looked to each other and took the seats on either side of the man. Captain Esek Hrelle was still dressed in civilian gear, something which Sasha knew had distracted Giles since they started this journey, never having pictured the man wearing anything other than Starfleet uniforms. Sasha knew better, having spent a good portion of her life in the company of the man who had married her mother and had become her father; she smiled inwardly at some of the outrageous outfits he chose to wear whenever they went on vacation at the beach or in the mountains… Mom used to laugh her head off-

Mom. Thoughts of her brought her back to the reason for their being out there now: Sasha had become obsessed with witnessing the execution of Mom’s murderer, the criminal Alexander Giger. She scared herself now with how bloodthirsty she had been, since receiving the invitation from the Nist. She had cursed her Dad as a coward when he’d initially refused to let her attend the execution, tried to conspire with her friends to steal this very shuttle, insulted Commander T’Varik, assaulted Counselor Kami- she shuddered at how bad she had become.

And when Dad had finally given in and took her there, the results were… horrifying. The Nist’s method of execution had been unexpected. And unforgettable. She swallowed.

“Are you cold, Sash?” Hrelle asked. “Turn up the heat, if you want.”

She shook her head. “I’m okay. Just woke up.”

He nodded, his pointed ears twitching as he bared his fangs. “Get a good sleep, you two?”

She exchanged glances with Giles, before she finally replied, “Yeah, thanks.”

“I have to say, I’ll be glad to get back to the bed in my own quarters. How do those bunks compare to the ones in Alpha Squad’s quarters?”

The cadets exchanged looks again, before Giles offered, “Not as good, Sir.”

Hrelle nodded, still seemingly concentrating on his work. “I’ll bet. Still, it does have some advantages for the two of you, sleeping together.”

Giles frowned wordlessly at her, mouthing ‘sleeping together?’

Sasha felt herself blushing, but couldn’t find anything to respond with.

Then Hrelle elaborated, “You know, just two of you in the room instead of six. Less snoring.”

Giles visibly relaxed. “Uh, yes, Sir. Quieter.”

“I never got used to it when I was a cadet and sharing a room with someone else. It took a while when I started sleeping with your mother, Sash. I loved her with all my heart… but she could rattle the windows with those sinuses of hers. And she always denied it. Fortunately you don’t seem to have inherited her considerable talents in that area.”

She nodded, after a moment adding, “No. What are you doing, anyway?”

“A little creative sabotage of the replicator. I’m hoping to bypass the dietary override Dr Ling put in its programming so I can get something other than the rabbit food she’s put me on. Hopefully I won’t screw this up and we end up eating emergency rations for the rest of the trip.” He chuckled and added, “You won’t squeal on me, will you?”

“Us? Our lips are sealed.”

“Much appreciated. I know how much you two hate keeping secrets.”

They went silent again, sitting there, before Hrelle leaned back, holding up the transtator panel while setting down his tool. “There. Fingers crossed.”

“Sir?” Giles asked curiously.

“Fingers crossed. Humans used to cross their fingers to wish them luck with a venture. Of course, they also would do it to negate a promise they had just made. Humans can be perplexing and mysterious - present company excluded, of course.” He rose and inserted the panel into a waiting slot below the replicator unit in the wall. “There’s nothing mysterious about either of you two.”

Sasha frowned at Giles, as if the boy might have let slip something in the very, very few words spoken since they emerged from the compartment.

The replicator came back online as Hrelle stood up again. “There, now for the acid test. Computer: bottle of Spican flame whiskey and three shotglasses.”

Both cadets looked at their Captain, as the requested materials appeared in a swirl of energy in the replicator slot, and the Caitian collected the items and brought them back to the table, taking his seat again. “You’re lucky: my first instinct was to order a massive plate of fried chicken. And eat it all in front of you and give you none.”

Sasha watched him uncork the bottle and pour some of the cherry-coloured liquid into the shotglasses, sliding one to each of them. “Alcohol? Isn’t this… unbreakfasty, Dad?”

“Yes, and if either of you started your day with this, then you’ll inevitably find yourself under the unforgiving gaze of my Vulcan First Officer. But this is a special occasion.” He smirked at their reactions as he raised his glass.

Sasha never touched her glass, but given the way her temperature seemed to double, she felt as if she had downed the whole bottle. “You know, don’t you?”

“He knows?” Giles asked, looking equally flushed.

“Yes,” Hrelle confirmed, chuckling. “He knows… ‘Tiger’.” He downed his shot in one go.

“Shit,” Sasha muttered, reaching for her glass.

“How profane,” Hrelle teased, refilling his own. “And you a religious girl. Or so I assume, given the number of times you called to your deity.”

“Dad!”

“Don’t ‘Dad’ me, Runt of the Litter! It wasn’t like I could avoid hearing you two rabbits. I was prepared to ignore it, grant you both your right to privacy and to act and behave like adults. But then you two come out here acting all awkward and stupid - and there’s no way in the Seven Hells that I could put up with that level of nonsense for the next four days. So, better to act like Caitians.”

“Caitians, Sir?” Giles asked, frowning in confusion at Sasha’s look to him.

“Yes, Giles. You see, Caitians have superior senses, so we know whenever our parents are busy in their bedrooms, we know when our females go into Season several times a year, we’re casual about nudity amongst ourselves, and our Great Mother has never made us feel guilty over having sexual drives the way many human deities have done. Caitians choose to be quite open about adults and cubs discussing sex-”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Sasha declared, finishing her shot.

“I know, I know, you poor, pitiful, repressed humans are too coy about such matters. But if either of you want to talk to me privately about anything,” He focused on Giles now. “Anything at all, I’m always available.”

Sasha looked to Giles, shrugged and raised her own glass, Giles following suit, the three of them clinking them once. Then she worked the controls of the entertainment screen, bringing up a gaudily-coloured pair of animated cats, one large and one small, wearing clothes and walking upright together as music played in the background.

Hrelle frowned with memory. “Is that Fat Cat and Lil’ Kitten? Is that still being made?”

Sasha nodded, not looking at him now.

Her stepfather chuckled. “Can’t believe you’re still watching that after all these years.”

“The writing’s a lot more sophisticated than I could appreciate it when I was just a kid.”

“Still looks like the big dumb cat gets all riled up until the little cat strokes his hand and makes him purr. They do it in every episode. It’s speciest.”

“It’s meant to be cats, not Caitians.”

“Whatever.” Hrelle rose, corking and taking the bottle with him. “Don’t just sit there in front of that screen all day, get a decent breakfast in you before catching up with your classwork. I suggest a Cuban omelet with ham and peppers; that was your mother’s favourite the morning after one of our all nighters-”

“Dad!”

“Good night,” he chuckled as he entered the compartment, closing the door.

And then opening it again. “Would one of you please go to the Environmental Control panel in the cockpit and clear the sex funk out of this room before I choke?”

*

USS Surefoot, Deck 3, Hangar Bay, Stardate 35325.02:

Commander T’Varik awaited the three as they emerged from the shuttle, ignoring the crew that appeared to swarm around the smaller vessel to perform the usual check-ups. “Welcome back, Captain, Cadets. I trust all went as expected.”

“More or less. Anything to report outside of what you’ve already sent me?”

“Of course not, Captain.” She nodded to the cadets. “Congratulations on passing the Astrophysics Exam. You will be pleased to know that the rest of Alpha Squad also performed to satisfactory levels.”

“That’s good to hear, Commander.” Sasha breathed in. “Commander, may I have a quick word with you now, please?”

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow, before nodding to a corner of the hangar bay, allowing the cadet to follow her towards it. “How may I assist you, Ms Hrelle?”

Sasha swallowed. “Commander, I wished to apologise for my behaviour towards you in the holodeck before I departed. It was disrespectful and uncalled for.”

“I cannot argue with that, Cadet. However, I should point out that you have already apologised to me before you departed for Tau Beta.”

Sasha flushed. “Yes. But I, ah, I’m actually meaning it now.”

T’Varik raised an eyebrow. “I see. In that case, I will accept this genuine apology.” She paused before continuing. “You will, however, remain bereft of two weeks’ academic credits, and you will stay suspended pending an assessment from the Counselor.”

Sasha nodded at that, appearing contrite. “Fair enough. If I had gone to her from the start to talk about all this, I wouldn’t have ended up in trouble.”

“I cannot argue with that either.” T’Varik relaxed her posture a little. “And should you wish to talk on a less formal basis, Sasha, I will always be available.”

Sasha offered a slight smile. “Thank you.”

“Commander,” Hrelle drew up to them. “If you’re done here, I need to speak with you on an urgent matter. You and the Counselor.”

The Vulcan nodded, looking to Sasha again. “You and Mr Arrington return to your quarters with your belongings. Alpha Squad is currently on a study period there, I believe.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” She grabbed her bag and nodded to Giles to follow her out of the hangar bay, striding ahead of him by a step.

“Sash? Sasha, wait.”

She didn’t want to. She knew what he wanted to talk about. What he had wanted to talk about since that time together in the sleeping compartment. But she had managed to avoid that, during the interminable journey back to the Surefoot.

But she did stop and face him, looking down either end of the curved corridor to ensure they were alone. “Let’s just keep what happened between us… between us. Okay?”

It didn’t look like it was okay to him. But he nodded. “Sure. If that’s what you want.”

She saw a vista of emotions play across his face. But she couldn’t deal with them, not now. It had been embarrassing enough when her father joked about it. “Yes. It is.”

*

Deck 1, Captain’s Office:

“Giles has a secret communications link to his father,” Hrelle announced.

T’Varik and Kami exchanged glances, the Vulcan responding first with, “How do you know this?”

“I heard him talking, when he was alone in the sleeping compartment. I heard this beeping sound go on for a long time, which I assumed was just some sort of alarm. Then I heard him talking to the man. Later, when they were busy and I was supposed to be lying down, I searched his case, and found an old-fashioned communicator, some mid-23rd Century model.”

“How could something like that reach light years across space?” Kami asked.

“I’m assuming it only looks like an antique, and is in fact an advanced piece of technology from the offices of Starfleet Intelligence. I’m also assuming that it was delivered to him by his aunt, Captain Lucille Arrington, when the Impala intercepted us weeks ago.”

“That would be logical,” T’Varik, frowning. “Did you confront him about it?”

“No. I only heard his side of the conversation. It was clear that he was ordered to report anything unusual that goes onboard. It was also clear that he was very reluctant to do so. But fathers can be very… assertive.”

“And with a large extended family of equally successful, equally assertive people backing him up…” Kami added with some sympathy.

Hrelle nodded. “I dropped hints to him, that he could talk to me about anything. I want to give him a chance to come to us about it. I… like him.”

“A laudable sentiment, Captain,” T’Varik opined. “But the legal ramifications of Admiral Arrington’s actions are considerable, if he is operating without authorisation from Starfleet Command.”

Hrelle leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. “There’s an additional complication, and though I would normally not betray such confidences, given the circumstances…” He looked up at the two women again. “Sasha and Giles had sex on the shuttle.”

Both of them glanced at each other, Kami responding first with, “Before or after you witnessed the execution?”

“After.” He felt himself flush beneath his fur. “Whoever constructed the walls of the sleeping compartment never factored in Caitian hearing. And… I didn’t want to let them know I could hear them because, after what she saw, Sasha sounded like she really needed it. She talked about wanting to ‘feel alive’.”

“That’s a common occurrence among victims of trauma,” Kami noted soberly. “And given what you reported about Alexander Giger’s execution, that would certainly qualify as traumatic. Do they know that you know?”

“Yes.” He shrugged at their reactions. “I had to bring it up, they were going around all furtive and guilty.” He looked at T’Varik. “You know what humans are like.”

“All too well. I am assuming that the incident wasn’t repeated during the journey?”

“You assume correctly. And Sasha doesn’t know about the communicator.” He breathed out. “Commander, I want you to check Alpha Squad’s schedule. The next time they’re on duty for an extended period of time, I want you to personally collect the communicator and run a full scan on it, collect as much evidence as you can about its origins and purpose; do everything short of tearing it apart. Get Lt Abed and Chief Grev to assist if necessary. Then put it back where you got it.”

“Is there an ultimate goal to this, Captain?”

“We’ll know when we get there. Dismissed.”

T’Varik nodded and departed. Kami drew closer to Hrelle. “And how are you doing after all that?”

“After all what? Seeing the man who turned my life upside down end up as the first meal for a cluster of Nist larvae, and feeling more disturbed that I’m not very disturbed by it? Being present when my little girl lost her virginity, and wondering if I did the right thing by letting her get on with it, and then bringing up the subject? Or do you mean finding out that a cadet is secretly spying on me on behalf of his family over what could be at best a personal vendetta, or at worst a secret investigation by Starfleet Command?” He rubbed his eyes again. “When did life get so complicated?”

“The day you crawled out of your mother. And that’s a lot of issues for us to deal with.”

He stared at the far wall. “Not really. I was prepared to put Giger behind me without a second thought; seeing him die before my eyes doesn’t change that. And if my little girl is old enough to be intimate with someone else, she’s old enough to be the butt of her old man’s jokes. And if the Arringtons are going to try and take me on... let them try.”

She smiled. “Very sexy. But you’re not off the hook for the increased counseling sessions.”

He grunted. “Just take care of Sasha first. Think you can manage it without her kicking you in your babymaker again?”

She winced with the memory. “I’ll keep her at arm’s length.”

He stared at her.

She shrugged. “Okay, leg’s length, then…”

*

Deck 2, Alpha Squad Quarters:

Jonas Ostrow focused on the latest adventures of Fat Cat and Lil’ Kitten on the screen opposite him, trying to ignore the big blue bare foot shoved in his face. “No.”

Next to him on the couch, Neraxis Nemm wriggled her toes invitingly. “Go on, Scrappy. That’s your forfeit.”

He looked up at the others. “She cheated, somehow. Someone tell me she cheated.”

Sitting at the adjacent table reading the news reports on her PADD, Eydiir Daughter-of-Kaas never looked up. “I no more care about the outcome of your game of Durotta than I do this childish carton you and Sasha enjoy so much.”

“It’s ‘cartoon’.”

At the other table in the living quarters, Kitirik was gently peeling the shedding skin off the soft mottled green surface on his forearms, the loose wrinkled folds beneath his reptilian jaw purple with embarrassment at performing such an intimate act, even in the presence of his friends. “Forgive me, Friend Jonas, but I am unfamiliar with the rules of the aforementioned board game. And protocol would prevent me from suspecting unsporting behaviour on her part.”

Neraxis lifted her other foot up off Jonas’ lap, nudging his cheek with her big toe. “Come on, Scrappy. Pay up.”

Jonas sighed, setting both feet down again, before selecting one to massage first, kneading the toes, sole and arch. “I’ll win next time.”

Neraxis leaned back, folding her hands onto her belly and grinning. “But if you don’t, just think of what I’ll be getting you to massage next.”

“Jonas, be sure to wash your hands afterwards,” Eydiir advised. “Given the caustic nature of Bolian biochemistry compared to other humanoids, Neraxis’ hyperhidrosis could trigger an allergic reaction in your hands.”

“Hyper-whatsit?”

“Sweaty feet.”

Neraxis frowned. “Are you saying I have sweaty feet?”

Jonas’ face screwed up in disgust. “She doesn’t have to say.”

Eydiir ignored them as she read another page of news. “Kit, you might be interested in this: your people are engaged in hostilities with another government. The… Ootine?”

Kitirik stepped peeling, his red eyes narrowing in thought. “It is pronounced ‘Oo-oh-teen’, Friend Eydiir. Forgive the correction.”

“So who are they, Kit?” Neraxis asked.

“A race on a planet in the same system as we Qarari. We have had numerous altercations over the past century. It is regrettable that actual hostilities have broken out again, although perhaps the Federation may offer mediation in this latest instance, even if we have not yet been formally offered Federation membership.”

“You don’t know anyone who might be fighting, do you, Kit?” Jonas asked, sounding sympathetic.

“Only the males of the Warrior gender will be involved, Friend Jonas, and our genders as a rule do not intersocialise. It is very sad all the same. I would prefer not to talk about it, thank you.”

The door to their quarters slid open, and Sasha and Giles entered, Giles smiling at them. “Away for a few days, and look at the four of you, slumped around like Tiburian sloths.”

Neraxis swung her feet off of Jonas’ lap and stood up, letting him follow. “Guys! We weren’t expecting you back until this afternoon!”

Giles set his bag down. “We made better time than we thought. Good thing, too, we were getting cabin fever in that thing.”

“And did the execution of Mr Giger meet your expectations?” Eydiir asked Sasha.

Sasha paled. “I don’t want to talk about it - except to say I hope never to see something like that again.”

The Capellan nodded, hugging her. “I understand, my friend.”

Sasha looked to her, to each of them, sobering as she remembered the sour, cold atmosphere she had left behind her. The business with the execution had temporarily unhinged her, turning her into a Class 1 Bitch. And the thought of it had kept rattling in her brain on the way back. She set down her bag and looked at them as they stood around. “Listen, before this goes any further: Eydiir, Jonas, Neraxis, Kit… I’m sorry. I treated you all like crap before I left. I was in a bad place.”

“That much was obvious,” Eydiir noted drily.

“I- I don’t know how I can make it up to all of you.”

“I am not prepared to keep an account, Friend Sasha,” Kitirik informed her. “It seems a useless exercise. Perhaps it would be better to put it behind us?”

“Hear, hear,” Eydiir agreed, patting Sasha on the shoulder. “You will need to do more than what you’ve done to shake our friendship. That is not meant as a challenge, by the way.”

“Speak for yourselves,” Neraxis groused good-naturedly. “I think we should make her use up some replicator credits to get us some snacks for the next Movie Night.”

“Failing that,” Jonas offered, looking a little queasy. “You can take over rubbing Neraxis’ feet.”

Sasha felt the relief wash out of hers. “I don’t know what the hell that means… but I’m looking forward to finding out. Thank you. All of you.”

Standing close beside her, Giles slipped his hand into hers, squeezing gently.

She accepted it - before catching herself out and visibly drawing back, recovering quickly. “So, what’s been happening?”

The Squad looked to each other, Eydiir responding first with, “Following the successful passing of our Astrophysics Exam, the other Squad Leaders have requested to commander T’Varik that we have what is called a ‘Christmas Party’.”

“Christmas!” Giles smiled. “Hell yeah, it’s almost Christmas on Earth!”

“I am unfamiliar,” Kit confessed.

“I have researched it,” Eydiir declared. “It is the ancient celebration of a bearded transdimensional being who visits homes one evening and leaves demigod infants in tiny stables.”

“It’s… not quite like that,” Sasha pointed out. “Anything to drink in here?”

Wordlessly Giles moved to the refrigerated storage box where they kept drinks rather than venture to the mess hall replicators, bringing back an assortment, handing Sasha one bottle, and the rest to the others.

“Thanks, Sport.” Neraxis popped the top off her pepper-flavoured ale, watching as Sasha and Giles slid down to the floor together, before the rest of them joined in a circle. “So, how was it? The two of you stuck together for ten days?”

Sasha and Giles looked to each other, saying nothing at first, until Sasha finally replied. “Okay. Stayed out of each other’s hair, studied together.”

“Yeah,” Giles concurred. “Stayed out of each other’s hair, studied together, that’s all.”

The group went silent.

Then Kitirik asked, “What was the sex like?”

Naturally Sasha was drinking deeply when it was asked, causing her to spit tulaberry juice down the front of her blouse. She wiped her mouth on her sleeve. “Kit, what the hell-”

“They had sex?” Jonas squeaked.

Neraxis’ eyes widened. “Sex? As in sexy sex?”

Eydiir’s gaze narrowed on them. “Did you have sex on the shuttle?”

Sasha frowned back. “No, we did not have sex on the shuttle!” She looked to Giles. “Isn’t that right?”

“No,” he replied, after a pause. “I mean, that’s right, no.” But then he looked to Kitirik. “How the hell did you know?”

The Qarari looked confused now. “It seemed obvious: your close physical proximity upon entering the room, when prior you maintained a respectful distance for personal space. You brought Friend Sasha a drink without being asked, and she did not provide an appropriate response of thanks, indicating a level of intimacy beyond your previous relationship. Then there are the reflective denials indicative of deception.”

“Yeah,” Neraxis agreed slowly, adding, “Not to mention you literally just asked Kit how he knew. I wanna play poker with you, by the way.”

Sasha rubbed the bridge of her nose, feeling a hot flush through her. Unable to look at any of them, she announced slowly, quietly, “Listen very carefully, because I intend to say it only once: yes, Giles and I slept together. But it was a terrible, horrible mistake, okay? We should never have done it. It was impulsive, immature, idiotic, insane-”

“Sasha-” Eydiir interrupted.

Sasha opened her eyes - in time to see Giles return to his feet and leave their quarters without saying a word. “Giles?” As the door slid shut again, again silently, she looked to the others. “What’s wrong with him?”

Neraxis had turned a pale blue. “Are you kidding? You sat here telling us about what a nightmare it was being with Giles, and you did it sitting right next to him! Holy Hraxor, that was the most sorry I have ever felt for any guy, ever!”

Sasha’s stomach dropped into her lap. “I- I didn’t mean it like that! He knows we decided to keep it a secret!”

“Well, there’s keeping it a secret, and then there’s talking like sex with him was the equivalent of heart surgery with a rusty Klingon blade.”

“Why was the experience so unpleasant, Friend Sasha?” Kitirik asked curiously. “Friend Giles does not appear unattractive, and my understanding of humanoid sex is that it is-”

“Kit, shut up! You don’t have to ask about every single thing that pops into your head, okay?” Sasha rubbed her eyes again. “Shit, I didn’t mean to hurt Giles’ feelings.”

“Maybe not,” Eydiir conceded. “But you still did.”

“And maybe you should go tell him that?” Neraxis suggested.

Sasha breathed in deeply. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d better.”

As she rose and followed Giles out the door, the remaining four looked to each other with a mixture of emotions.

“Well,” Neraxis muttered, looking at Eydiir. “That was unexpected.”

The Capellan nodded. “Agreed.” Inwardly, she hoped that it was something that could be mended, or she feared for the stability of their squad.

*

Deck 1, Rec Room:

Giles strode in, walking up to the replicator and ordering a beer. It responded, “Cadet Giles Arrington, you are scheduled to be on duty from 1600 Hours. Do you wish this order completed?”

“Yes,” he snapped, not wanting any attitude from a computer. He almost reached in for the glass while it was still being created in the slot, even though the safety features would have automatically shut down and drew attention from the others in the room. He took a huge swallow while he stood there, before finding himself a table alone.

Well, that was a kick in the ass. He knew immediately afterwards that Sasha had mixed feelings about their making love, but he had put it down to the circumstances that had brought them together, and to being in the shuttle with her father - especially after the Captain had admitted knowing what had been going on all along. The Captain at least seemed willing to treat the both of them like adults, which was more than his own father behaves towards him.

But then, to hear Sash talk about them to their friends like that… How the hell was he gonna face them again after this? How was he gonna face her?

What the hell was he doing on this ship anyway?

“Hey, Giles.”

He looked over at the nearby table. Jared Miro, the Argelian leader of Beta Squad, sat there with other male cadets: his own Science Specialist Ingalls, and Williams, Beaudine and Orogg of Gamma Squad. Jared grinned, loving being the centre of attention. “Come on over, let’s talk.”

Giles leaned back in his chair, nursing his beer. “I’m not feeling talky.”

“I sympathise, Giles. I’ve ridden the Sasha Shuttle, too. The girl leaves you exhausted.”

Giles looked up. “What did you say?”

The Argelian looked to his friends and laughed with them. “She’s a sweet little ride, but she doesn’t know when her mouth should be used for other things.”

Giles’ face tightened, and he set his beer glass down loudly on the table as he rose and strode towards the five of them, his gaze fixed on Miro, who was chuckling at his own joke, the others following suit - until they saw the expression on Giles’ face. “You can drop that nasty talk right now. You never slept with her. The only thing you came away with from being with her was a fat lip when she hit you.”

“Is that what she told you?” Miro asked, still grinning. “And you believed her? Clearly she didn’t want to hurt your feelings. Bet she told you that you were her first-”

Giles reached for him, grabbing him by his shirt and lifting him up, the other cadets rising to separate the two of them, holding Giles back.

“What the hell is going on?”

Giles slipped out of the hands restraining him but ignoring Jared in favour of the new arrival. “Lieutenant.”

Chief Helmsman Lt. Irina Velkovsky was a tall, lithe Nordic woman with a personality as glacial as her eyes, though in the weeks since his arrival Giles had shared a mutual love for flying small craft, inspiring him to someday try his luck on the Delos Run as she had done. And as his direct supervisor, he felt a strong desire not to disappoint her. Which, to judge from her expression, was a threat. “I didn’t expect you to be starting fights, Mr Arrington. I expect better self-control from a pilot.”

Giles flushed - his heat increasing as he saw Sasha enter, having caught the tail end of Velkovsky’s criticism. “It’s not a fight, Ma’am. Jared and I were merely demonstrating popular martial arts from our respective planets.”

Velkovsky made an incredulous sound that matched her expression. “Given what the Argelians get up to, I’d hate to see what sort of moves Mr Miro might bring to such a demonstration. I suggest you boys keep such hi-jinks in the gym. Understood?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He ignored the boys and Velkovsky - and now Sasha - as he departed, leaving his beer behind, and hoping no one would follow-

“Giles?”

So much for that. He didn’t stop, though he had no idea where he was going, until Sasha raced ahead and cut him off. “What was that all about?”

He stopped, considering continuing around her again, before finally giving in. “Jared was mouthing off again.”

“So? If someone hit him every time he did that, he’d be in a permanent coma.”

“I didn’t hit him.”

“Velkovsky seemed to think so.”

“She was wrong!”

“Okay then, why did you not hit him?”

He breathed out. “He said he’d slept with you. That you were…”

“Were what?”

Giles swallowed now, regretting having started this. “He said you were a sweet little ride.”

Sasha’s face turned a shade of scarlet, as she looked away - but then she focused on him again, anger rising. “So you thought you’d go charging in defending my honour just because we- we-”

“You can’t even say it, can you? Was it that revolting to you?”

“I can take care of myself, I don’t need you!”

“That’s not what you said on the Sureswift!”

Sasha looked ready to punch him - but then the Red Alert klaxon filled the corridor.

Both of them looked up, seeing other crewmembers leaving the rec room and other areas. Sasha tensed. “We need to get to our stations.”

“Not you,” Giles corrected. “You’re suspended, remember?”

Her face tightened as she glared at him - until she acceded, “Get going, then.”

He left her, thanking the Universe for the distraction. And hoping it didn’t mean something even worse than the storm that had been cooking in the corridor between Sasha and him.

Per the current cycle, Alpha Squad’s off-duty stations during a Red Alert was on the bridge; he nodded to the rest of them as he made his way to one of the auxiliary stations, and Hrelle entered, taking the Captain’s chair from Lt. Abed. “What’s up, Prakesh?”

“Distress signal received from the civilian freighter Beholder, Sir, 1.3 light years distant at 212-Mark-631. Life support failure.”

“Helm, plot an intercept course.”

Velkovsky had somehow crept in and assumed the post. “Course already plotted, Captain. ETA at Warp 9: 6.2 hours.”

“Engage. Ops, send a message and our ETA. Commander, what’s their crew and passenger complement?”

Behind him, T’Varik checked the data. “Norkova-class, typical crew complement 12. No passengers listed on the manifest they submitted to Starfleet Command two weeks ago. Captain, our distance from their present coordinates may present a problem if their life support failure is significant. They may need to evacuate via lifepods.”

“Excuse me, Commander.”

Hrelle, T’Varik and the rest of the bridge crew looked to Jonas Ostrow at an auxiliary Engineering station. The young man flushed but continued. “The Norkova-class freighter can survive on total life support failure for up to 36 hours, assuming no major hull breaches.”

“Indeed, Mr Ostrow? And what is the source of this knowledge?”

“Personal experience, Ma’am. My mother’s company bought and stripped one of them down. We tested each component for salvage purposes.”

“Good work, Jonas,” Hrelle nodded to him, focusing on T’Varik again. “Send that message. Unless they have something more to add, tell them we’ll be there ASAP.”

“Aye, Sir- Sir, we’re actually getting another message from the Beholder. They’re stating the distress signal was sent prematurely by a junior crewmember, and to disregard.” T’Varik paused and added. “They apologise for the error.”

Hrelle leaned back. Giles watched him, could almost see the thoughts running around the man’s head, making his furred brow crease before he asked, “Thoughts on that, Commander?”

The Vulcan straightened up. “‘Regulation 45-C: Starfleet vessels are obligated to respond to distress signals via a physical inspection of said vessel or installation, once a signal is received on an official channel, even if the distress signal is subsequently rescinded, unless the Starfleet vessel is already engaged in a verified emergency.’.”

Hrelle nodded. “Do you think taking the Luntanu artefacts to Starbase 154 qualifies as a ‘verified emergency’?”

“Unlikely.”

He leaned back. “Helm, continue on our present course and speed. Commander, inform the Beholder to maintain their present position until our arrival. I believe it might be an ideal exercise opportunity for our cadets: safety and medical inspections, security sweeps and the like.”

“An excellent suggestion, Sir, though I doubt if the captain of the Beholder will be as sanguine to have her schedule interrupted by us.”

“Ask me if I care.”

T’Varik didn’t respond.

“Well, Commander?” Hrelle asked mildly. “Ask me.”

The bridge was silent, except for a few people snickering, as T’Varik summoned up the resolve to accede to the request. “Do you care, Captain?”

“Not in the least. They know the regulations. And if they don’t like it, they can kiss my furry ass.”

“Should I include that invitation in any official response to such protests, Sir?”

“Indulge yourself, Commander…”

*

USS Surefoot, Deck 4, Sickbay Intensive Care Unit:

Sasha stood outside, trying to summon the courage to announce her presence to the only person in the room, who currently had her back to the open doorway, sitting on one of the unoccupied biobeds.

Fortunately, the occupant’s superior senses stole any further hesitation from her. “I know you’re there, Cadet.”

“Uh, Counselor? Are you okay?”

“You mean medically or philosophically?”

“Uh, it’s just that you’re in here and-”

Counselor Kami Shall still didn’t turn around. “This is my assigned duty station during a Red Alert, Cadet, since I’m a medical professional, despite the doubts of Dr Ling. Are you gonna keep standing there, or…”

“Sorry.” Sasha stepped in. With the ship on Red Alert, and her suspended from active duty following her recent behaviour, she would have reported to her quarters, alone. But she didn’t feel like being alone. She walked around to face the Caitian female, pausing and frowning. “Umm…”

Kami had her right foot up near her face, demonstrating a flexibility that few humans could match, while she ran an autosuture over the padding on the sole. “Thought I’d take the opportunity to deal with some callus. It’s welcome protection when walking around on open ground, but it can build up, and affect posture.”

“Um… can I help or-”

“What are you doing here?”

The cold, formal reply threw Sasha; the Caitian had until now been open and warm and friendly. But then of course that had been before Sasha practically assaulted her, when the latter had unsuccessfully tried to get her to stop and talk about her feeling about the execution of the killer of Sasha’s mother. “I, ah, thought that maybe we could have a talk.”

Kami still didn’t look up. “I see. You need an assessment so you can get unsuspended. Well, I have a window open tomorrow at 1630-”

“Please-” Sasha’s voice cracked, and suddenly she felt like she was going to shatter. It both surprised and scared her. “I need you.”

And it made Kami look up, regarding the younger girl for a moment, before setting down her medical tool, rising and moving to the door, activating the manual controls to shut the door and give them some privacy. Then she faced Sasha again. “Okay. But we need to get a few things straightened out before we proceed. Understood?”

Sasha nodded. “I’m sorry about our fight-”

But Kami held up a hand. “I recovered. You did a far worse job on your father. Or is it your stepfather now? Or maybe just ‘that son of a bitch on the bridge’? What are we calling him these days?”

Sasha took a step back, feeling her face burn as she recalled the petty, nasty things she had called him when they were arguing about going to the execution. They had made up since then, on the journey back, but obviously Kami didn’t realise this. “It’s okay now-”

“You think that? No. You have no idea how much he depends on you, on your love for him. He’d rather lose his tail again than think he’s lost you.” She paused, and then demanded, “Well? What is he to you now?”

“My Dad,” she replied without hesitation.

“And is that gonna change again if you don’t get your way the next time?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“YES!”

“Good.” Kami drew closer, her gaze unwavering on the younger girl. “You had also implied a relationship between your father and me. Let me set the record straight on that too.”

“You don’t have to-”

Quicker than Sasha could see, Kami shot her hand forward, pointing a clawed finger in the cadet’s face. “I’m still talking.” The Caitian relaxed her arm and breathed in before continuing. “I love your Dad.”

The admission was the last thing Sasha expected. She recalled the nasty, cutting remark she had made to Kami when they were fighting, and had hoped the woman would have forgotten it. And if she hadn’t, that the woman would have denied it.

Kami lowered her arm as she proceeded. “I love him. I love him in a way I haven’t since my late husband. In fact, I love him so much that I have to bury those feelings and remain his Counselor, because he needs me more in that role than as a partner, where I can’t remain professional and objective…” Then her expression softened. “No one else but T’Varik knows this… and probably your Dad, too. Now you have something more to hold over me, if you wish.”

She drew closer to Sasha, her expression sober. “Now… there’s just one more important thing to clear up. The most important thing, really. I hope you’re listening.”

Sasha swallowed, clueless as to what it was, but certain that whatever it is, she deserved it.

Then Kami drew her into a strong, tender, affectionate embrace, holding her tightly, whispering, “I love you, too, sweetheart. I know it’s partly because of your father. But mostly it’s because you’re such a remarkable young woman in your own right. You bring out the mother in me. And I promise that love for you will never, ever change, no matter what is said or done between us. I will always be here for you: as friend, as Counselor, even as a surrogate mother. Whatever you need. I just want you to know that.”

The gesture, as strong and pure as it was surprising, swept up Sasha.

And she embraced it, as she embraced the older woman, allowing her bottled feelings over the last fortnight to gush out of her, as she shook with sobs.

*

Deck 4, Security Office/Brig:

Like most everything else on the Surefoot, the ship’s security team was small, consisting of Lt. Abed, Ensign Gorman, and the three squads’ Security Specialists: Alpha Squad’s Crewman Neraxis Nemm, Beta Squad’s Crewman Atiaro Thykrill, an Andorian female, and Gamma Squad’s Gleqom Orogg, a Saurian male. They were collecting phasers and belts and undergoing nominal safety procedures.

Then Abed looked up. “Can I help you, Cadet Daughter-of-Kaas?”

Eydiir straightened up as she stood in the doorway. “The surname is an administrative measure, Lieutenant, and not one I employ; Cadet Eydiir will suffice. The medical records of the crew of the Beholder has identified among them a carrier of Type-D Synthococcus Novae, a potentially lethal bacillus strain that requires additional booster shots for each of us before we interact with them.” She indicated the medical bag slung under one arm. “I am here to administer the shots.”

Abed shrugged. “You heard the cadet, kids. Line up.”

Eydiir prepared the shots and proceeded, while Neraxis waited and asked, “Have you seen Sasha anywhere?”

“She is in Intensive Care.”

“WHAT?”

“She is having a private talk with Counselor Kami while the latter is stationed there during the Red Alert.”

The Bolian grunted. “Lead with that next time, okay?”

“There was also a potential altercation between Giles and Jared Miro in the Rec Room.”

“Oh? And what did that mouthy little Argelian prick do this time?”

Beside her, Thykrill frowned. “Hey, Jared’s my Squad Leader!”

“You have my condolences,” Neraxis assured her.

Both women faced each other now, the Andorian’s antennae swivelling towards Neraxis as she challenged, “You want to get on the mats and sort this out, Bolian?”

“Power down, or give me back those phasers,” Abed commanded. “What’s up with you two anyway?”

Beside them, Orogg, a Saurian with a distended lavender reptilian head and huge round hazel eyes, regarded them with amusement. “Maybe there’s only room for one blue-skinned female Security Specialist on this ship?”

“Jared Miro claimed to have had sex with Sasha during our field exercise on Luntanu,” Eydiir informed them. “A lie, obviously.”

Now Thykrill faced her. “Why ‘obviously’, Capellan? Why take her word over his? They were all over each other long before Luntanu.”

Eydiir frowned and drew closer. “Because Sasha is my best friend, Andorian, and would not lie to me. Now extend your arm.” As Thykrill did so, Eydiir pressed the hypospray into the other girl’s bicep and continued, more confidentially, “It is true she was enamoured of him - at first. Then she discovered he wasn’t truly interested in her, but only in having sex with as many different races as he can. It’s a hobby for him, collecting... trophies. Any woman unfortunate enough to fall for his charms will soon find themselves in a similarly exploited position.”

Thykrill tensed, her expression changing from hostile to… shock?

Then Eydiir understood. “I’m... sorry.”

“What?” Neraxis asked, looking between the two of them, before focusing on Thykrill. “You’ve been with him?”

“Shut up,” the Andorian muttered, turning away.

*

Deck 4, Sickbay Intensive Care Unit:

Sasha and Kami were sitting on the floor of the room, out of sight of Dr Ling, though the Chief Medical Officer had stopped knocking on the window trying to get their attention.

Sasha stared ahead at the base of the biobed in front of them. Her voice was hoarse, her eyes and mind weary from speaking about her experiences witnessing the execution of Alexander Giger. “I forced myself to keep watching. I didn’t want to. But I had let myself get so worked up, so bloodthirsty about it. Now that I didn’t want to see it, I made myself. How screwed up is that?”

Kami nudged the girl’s shoulder. “I’ve heard worse. And I’d be more worried for you if you didn’t feel like this.” After a moment, she added, “You were right, when we fought. If I had the chance to see the killers of my husband executed, I might have accepted it. You… you should never have been given the temptation. No one could resist it.”

“Dad did.”

Kami blew a raspberry. “Don’t get me started on how wonderful your father is.” Then she asked, “How did you feel after you returned to the shuttle?”

Sasha tilted her head to rest on the Caitian’s shoulder. “I threw up. I threw up until there was nothing left in me, and then I threw up some more. Dad held my hair out of the way, and Giles got me some water. I lay down. I felt numbed, anaesthetised. Hating myself for being a part of all that, even if I had changed my mind at the end. I wanted to feel something different.” She swallowed. “Giles came in. He was worried about me, wanted to know if I needed anything. So… we made love.”

Kami smiled to herself. “I think he would have been happy just to get you a cup of tea. How did he react?”

“He- He was really nice. Gentlemanly. He wanted to make sure I was in my right mind, didn’t want to take advantage of me. I convinced him otherwise.” She smirked. “He… He didn’t take much convincing.”

Kami chuckled. “How was it?”

Sasha continued to stare ahead. “Good - once we stopped trying to do it on the bunk and moved to the floor. Then I messed up after that, and kept messing up. I started getting scared about how we would act towards each other afterwards. Was he going to profess his undying love to me? Was I going to profess it to him? And when Dad told us he’d heard us, I couldn’t talk to Giles about it. I was hoping to when we got back and had some privacy. But then the Squad worked out what we had done. And I panicked, and told them it had all been a terrible mistake. Giles took that personally.”

“Do you blame him for that?”

Sasha shook her head. “When I went after him, I found he’d gotten into a fight with Jared, because Jared had claimed he’d slept with me. And it felt like Giles had made himself my boyfriend and was defending my honour.”

“Or… Giles just wanted to punch Jared because Jared is very punchable.”

Sasha made an amused sound. “Why can’t I just stop myself and straighten things out calmly with Giles?”

Kami shrugged. “Maybe because it’s not straight with yourself? Maybe you do have feelings for him that you haven’t faced?”

Sasha started to protest - then thought better of it. “I like him. He’s matured since we first met. He’s supported me, listened to me when I needed someone. And he really opened up to me on our way to Tau Beta. I don’t regret him being my first - better him than Jared, now that I know the truth about the creep - but I’m mixed up about if I want to make sex a part of our relationship.

And there are conflicts of interest there when you’re partnered with someone who reports directly to you, potential problems if we end up arguing, factors that can hurt the group. That’s not fair on them. I wouldn’t want that. I know he wouldn’t, either.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what to say to him.”

“Everything you said just now sounded pretty good to me.”

Sasha looked to her. “You think?”

Kami nodded. “And you know, Giles is probably feeling much of what you’re feeling now, not knowing how to treat your relationship. And… he may have ongoing issues that have nothing to do with the two of you, that could be distracting him.”

“What sort of issues?”

“The sort of issues that are none of your business, young lady,” Kami scolded good-naturedly. She patted her on the leg. “Now, according to the status panel up there, we are out of Red Alert, and have no reason to hang around in here. Let’s get back to our preferred places before Dr Ling has Security phaser their way in here.”

*

Deck 2, Alpha Squad Quarters:

T’Varik used her command override and entered the rooms, proceeding directly to the sleeping quarters. With the Surefoot on its way to the coordinates of the freighter Beholder, she had arranged for the three squads to keep busy for the next several hours readying the hangar and cargo bays for emergency triages, preparing the shuttles for possible evacuation, and arming and equipping the Security Teams for potential hostile responses. Mr Arrington and the rest of his squad was engaged.

It did not take long for her to locate Mr Arrington’s case - and the communicator, buried beneath some civilian clothes. She paused, inwardly studying the five microsecond emotional response she had just experienced at having this confirmed, before returning the case and rising. It was predominately disappointment in the furtive behaviour of Mr Arrington and his family, with a focused measure of criticism towards the more experienced members of Starfleet as opposed to the cadet. She also noted a five-percent focus of self-recrimination for not detecting such a possibility as this, and resolved to examine it later in her meditations-

T’Varik slid the communicator into the pocket of her jacket as the door to the quarters slid open, and Sasha entered, startled by the presence of the First Officer. “Commander! What are you doing here?”

The Vulcan took a moment, mentally assessing the ethics behind her current assignment: she had no moral qualms about lying when in the performance of her duties, but she did have… reservations… about lying to Sasha, particularly given her emotional entanglement with Giles. So she chose deflection rather than deception. “You are currently on suspension. You should be in your quarters. Where have you been?”

“At Sickbay, with Kami, talking.” She ran her hands though her hair. “It’s exhausting, and I have an increased number of sessions with her for a while. But she says she will recommend that you drop the suspension.”

T’Varik nodded. “I welcome your return. Get into uniform immediately and report to the bridge. There will be a meeting at 0730 Hours in the Briefing Room before our rendezvous with the Beholder. You and the other Squad Leaders will attend.”

Sasha hesitated before replying, “Yes, Ma’am.”

As she entered the sleeping quarters for her uniform, T’Varik considered departing then, before pausing and asking, “Is there something bothering you, Sasha?”

From the other room, she called back, “I don’t want to trouble you with anything if you’re busy, Commander.”

“I believe my earlier offer to be available to you is still valid, and we will be otherwise engaged later.”

“Oh, okay… Um, have you ever, uh… been with a co-worker?”

T’Varik breathed in. “Perhaps for the sake of efficiency we can dispense with the euphemisms? Are you asking if I have had sex with a colleague?”

Sasha popped her head out of the doorway, her face flushed. “I, ah, know that Vulcans don’t like talking about sex-”

“That is a common generalisation. Vulcans of certain families in certain regions of my world are known for their reticence in discussing sex, particularly with humans, who tend towards the prurient with this subject matter - no offence intended.”

“None taken. Well, I suppose if you only feel desire once every seven years, you don’t get a chance to talk much about it.”

“Another generalisation. It is true that the Pon Farr is a biological imperative which resurges in Vulcans every seven years, we also feel sexual desire more regularly, just as we do hunger, sleep and other life processes.

And the answer to your question is Yes. Four years ago I entered into a relationship with another instructor at Starfleet Academy. As we found ourselves physically and intellectually compatible, she and I remained lovers for the following 1.76 Standard Years.”

“She?”

“Yes. I prefer females. And I would prefer to keep her identity confidential.”

“Of course, I just- don’t Vulcans get betrothed to mates when they’re children?”

“Yet another generalisation; I must consider creating a course to dispel such cultural myths. Many aristocratic families still practice childhood betrothals, but the majority of Vulcans consider it an archaic practice. We meet partners much the same way as other races, and should we be unattached while approaching Pon Farr.”

“Oh. And, uh, was it difficult, with you two working together?”

“No. However, she was not under my direct command, and I am of course able to maintain a professional demeanour. It may have been more difficult for us if we were both human, and I was her direct supervisor. Such relationships do occur, but they are generally considered unwise. The senior partner can be at risk of accusations of discrimination, both for and against their partner. And any contention between the partners can have an adverse effect on the working group at large.”

Sasha emerged, fully dressed. “Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of. Thank you, Commander.”

“I hope I have been of some assistance.”

“Yes… though I don’t suppose you ever promised that I’d like the outcome, did you?”

“One can never make such promises.”

“No…. one can’t.”

*

USS Surefoot, Deck 1, Captain’s Quarters, 1800 Hours:

Captain Hrelle reached down into his bowl and drew out a dark purple, bulbous fruit sprinkled with quinoa. “What in the Seven Hells is this thing?”

Sitting across from him, Kami was leaning back in her own chair, cradling a bowl of her own. “Betazoid uttaberries. If you don’t like them, don’t eat them, there are plenty of other different types of fruits in there.”

He dropped it back into his bowl, and then looked at hers, sniffing. “You don’t have to have the same as me, just to be supportive. You could have got some grilled shuris sticks.”

“Oh? So you could try and charm some of them off me? Of all the things you could charm off of me-”

“You’re not really enjoying this rabbit food, are you?”

She smirked. “I admit it’s an acquired taste, but it’s healthier than a purely carnivorous diet. You know, there’s a reason Caitians end up with more heart-related problems than they should, even in this day and age.” She regarded him. “And I want you to be around for a long, long time. You’ve got a good example to set for future generations.”

He looked back at her. And for the first time since Dr Ling put him on this stupid diet, he began to seriously consider giving in to the inevitable.

Then the monitor chimed, and the voice of Lt. Abed from the bridge filled the room. “Captain, sorry to bother you, but I have a visual call from Captain Vera Wallachek of the Beholder.”

Hrelle looked to Kami again before setting aside his breakfast and sitting up. “Put her through, Lieutenant.”

Seconds later, the table monitor lit up with the image of a middle-aged woman with copper-red hair, a round freckled face and pert nose. She smiled. “Captain Hrelle? Captain Wallachek here.”

“Morning, Captain, it’s a pleasure to put a face and voice to the name. We’ll be there in a few hours. What can I do for you?”

Now she looked a little embarrassed. “Firstly, you have to call me Vera. Secondly, you have to let me apologise for this inconvenience. We have a new crewmember who’s barely started shaving, who misread some environmental readings while the rest of us were off-duty, and sent out that distress signal.”

Hrelle grunted. “We have a few onboard who might have done the same too under the wrong circumstances, Vera, there’s no need to apologise. And please, call me Esek.”

The woman smiled. “Don’t mind if I do. I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s going to be a pleasure to meet you in person.”

“Thank you; I hope I live up to whatever you’ve heard. You do understand why we still have to come along and do a quick check, don’t you?”

“Well, Esek, I won’t pretend that I’d rather be continuing on my way to Qullik with our shipment and make our bonuses for an early arrival-”

“We’ll try to minimise the disruption, Vera. We have some cadets we’d like to put through their paces, running a few inspection sweeps and so forth. Just an hour or two, tops.”

Wallachek leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “Two hours? Oh, you’d better keep me properly distracted all that time, Esek, or I’ll be chewing the bulkhead.”

Hrelle kept facing the screen, but from the corner of his eye caught the amused expression on Kami’s face, before he finally responded. “Well, how about a beach party?”

“Excuse me?”

“We’ve just had installed a Holodeck, it’s small and primarily for cadet training, but it’s still good for recreation. You and your crew can come over for some sun and snacks? A little thank you for allowing us to delay you?”

Vera leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest. “My crew, huh? I was hoping for something a little more… personal… for us. But my crew has been hauling ass almost non-stop for the last three months. I suppose they could do with a bit of a break.”

“Fine. We’ll be there at 2000 Hours, and the party will start at 2100. Bring your swimsuit.”

Vera grinned. “I never wear one. Wallachek out.”

The screen darkened, and Hrelle looked to Kami. “What? Was that inappropriate?”

The Caitian female lifted up her spoon again. “Not at all. But I have a feeling Captain Wallachek was expecting less Beach Party and more Bump and Grind. Maybe your reputation as a horncat has exceeded you?”

“Reputation? I don’t have a reputation!”

But he felt himself flush. And it must have shown on him, because Kami was chuckling now.

*

Deck 3, Shuttlebay:

Lt. Velkovsky was checking her PADD as she ran through the pre-flight checklists on the three Surefoot shuttles, with Flight Specialists Giles Arrington, Rina Chaudri and Wileves Drill in tow. “The Norkova-class freighter’s hangar bay is large, as they’re usually taking on Type-9 cargo shuttles. It also has a fly-through design, so don’t go in too hard and too quick or you’ll end up out the other end.”

Beside Giles, Drill, a Bolian female who looked to him like Neraxis’ younger sister (assuming that wasn’t racist) elbowed him. “Good advice at any time, huh, Giles? You leave Sasha happy while you were away?”

He blushed and ignored her, allowing Chaudri to chide her. “There’s no need to be rude, Wileves. There’s more than enough of that going around.”

“Jealous because Jared hasn’t shown any interest in you, Rina?”

“He may be my Squad Leader, but that doesn’t mean I have to approve of his actions and attitude. First Sasha, then Thykrill, Soolamea, Yeager-”

“He never got anywhere with Sasha,” Giles assured her, hating the conversation but not able to just leave the accusation unanswered. Wasn’t there anything else to talk about onboard?

“I believe you,” Drill added. “I think he’s all talk. Soolamea says she didn’t let him get anywhere in her action-”

“Is this work boring you three?” Velkovsky asked. “Because you can always sign up for the Merchant Fleet. Hell, you can probably hop onto the Beholder before they leave.”

The cadets went silent - and Giles frowned with thought. Velkovsky was right; the Merchant Fleet was amazingly flexible with their standards and practices when compared with Starfleet. If he wanted, he could probably get himself a berth onboard the Beholder - or at least, get himself passage to a civilian station where he could get a berth with another ship. He certainly had the qualifications and experience.

He could start a new life, out here, away from his family and their nagging. Away from hurting Sasha again. Away from the guilt over deceiving Captain Hrelle.

It was more tempting than he expected.

*

Deck 1, Briefing Room, 1930 Hours:

Sasha stood on one end of the line, having made sure that Gamma Squad’s leader, the Vulcan male Falok, was between her and Beta Squad’s Jared Miro, from the moment they entered the room. But from then she stayed focused on what the senior officers were saying, determined to get back on track and make up for her earlier aberrant behaviour.

“The Nokova-class freighter is a modular design,” Captain Hrelle explained, as the related images appeared on the screen behind him. “With the modules customised for regular cargo, passengers, liquids and so forth, depending on their job; The modules can be switched out at various ports depending on the type of mission. The Beholder is currently transporting deuterium in its three modules to the Qullik mining facility. The forward living sections and the aft engineering sections are connected by catwalks that run around the modules.”

“I have compiled individual assignments for each of the three squads,” T’Varik continued. “As we do not wish to delay the Beholder any longer than necessary. The three squads will fly over in each of the Surefoot’s shuttles and perform standard docking manoeuvres in the freighter’s substantial hangar bay. From there, the squads will reorganise, based on the needs of your assignments.

Squad Leader Hrelle, you will supervise the Engineering Specialists with the safety inspections, focusing on the deuterium storage tanks in the midsection, but do not neglect the main engineering systems. Private companies have a reputation for offering a bare minimum of maintenance on such systems, and if necessary, you can make recommendations as to parts we might replicate on their behalf before their departure.

Squad Leader Falok, you will supervise the Medical Specialists with the health checks of the Beholder crew before they beam over to attend a function hosted by Captain Hrelle. A member of Captain Wallachek’s crew is a carrier of Type-D Synthococcus Novae, so ensure the inoculations for the rest of her crew are up to date; the Science Specialists will assist.

Squad Leader Miro, you will supervise the Security Specialists in running sweeps for contraband and other unauthorised items.” She paused and added. “It is inevitable that you may find among civilian crew items of… questionable legality. I advise you not to be too strident in your confiscation of the odd bottle of Romulan ale or cordafin stimulants.”

“You are expected to be onboard the Beholder by 2010 Hours,” Hrelle finished, “And hopefully done by 2200 Hours. Then you can come back and enjoy the beach party on the holodeck. Dismissed.”

Sasha led the Squad Leaders out of the room, prepared to proceed straight to the hangar bay and summon Alpha Squad, and maybe even have a quiet word with Giles-

“Sasha,” came a familiar, unwelcome voice from behind.

She never stopped walking. “I’m busy, Jared. So are you.”

Jared caught up with her and grabbed her forearm. “Wait-”

She froze, glaring. “Let go of me.”

The Argelian frowned. “You can’t keep this up, girl-”

She turned to a bemused-looking Falok. “Mr Falok, you are a witness: Mr Miro put his hands on me, I told him to release me, he has refused. If he continues to hold onto me, I will be lodging formal charges of physical assault against him. Will you corroborate my account?”

“I will.” The Vulcan looked at Miro. “I would strongly advise that you do as you are asked.”

Miro hesitated - but then released Sasha. “I don’t mean you any harm-”

“You’re telling people we slept together when we didn’t. That’s pretty harmful.”

“Is this true?” Falok asked of him.

Miro smirked - though he was flushed. “Some human women get emotionally overwhelmed when a relationship breaks down, Falok, and would rather deny reality than face it.”

Sasha glared at him. “I’m going to say this once, Jared: stop lying about me. If you don’t, you’ll regret it.”

Miro leered. “Be careful there, Sasha, or I’ll be making formal charges against you for making threats against me, and poor Falok will have to corroborate my account.” He left the other two Squad Leaders in the corridor.

Sasha forced herself to calm down. “Thank you for your support, Falok. And please accept my apologies for getting you involved in the first place.”

“No apologies are required, Sasha. I must admit finding Mr Miro’s attitude towards you most perplexing. He appears to continue to pursue you, when his attitude and dialogue suggests he can obtain satisfaction from any number of willing female companions.”

“That’s exactly it. I don’t think he’s used to being turned down.”

Falok raised an eyebrow. “That is a reasonable assumption. Will you be lodging a formal complaint against him regarding what just occurred?”

She breathed in before replying. “I’ll wait until he does something worse. Which is starting to feel like an inevitability.”

Hrelle and T’Varik remained in the briefing room, looking at another display, one meant for their eyes only, as T’Varik spoke. “The communicator is indeed a sophisticated device, far beyond any conventional Starfleet equipment, providing real-time encrypted subspace communication over an indeterminate number of light years.”

Hrelle let his eyes glaze over the schematics. “But it’s definitely Starfleet issue?”

“Chief Grev and Lt. Abed made a thorough examination of the components and energy signature. There is also a history file detailing previous communications.”

“Has Giles sent anything?”

“No. There has been only one transmission, received from Beta Aquilae.”

“Where Admiral William Arrington - Giles’ father - is based.”

“Indeed.”

“And Grev and Abed know to keep this under wraps for now?”

“They do. I have also kept the source of the communicator a secret, and have returned it to its hiding place.” She paused, and then asked, “Do you intend to continue your present tactic of not confronting the cadet?”

“I have faith that he’ll come to me.”

“Faith is hardly a substantial foundation, Captain.”

He shrugged. “Sometimes it’s all we have.”

*

Deck 3, Shuttlebay:

Eydiir rested her hand on the medical kit slung under one arm as she strode up to Jonas and Neraxis. “Have you seen Sasha and Giles?”

“No, but I’m sure they’re on their way,” Jonas replied, nodding to some of the other cadets milling about.

“In the meantime,” Neraxis added, indicating Kitirik, who was uncharacteristically standing apart from everyone else, pretending to be particularly interested in his science tricorder. “Maybe you can shake Kit out of his funk? We’re not getting through to him.”

“Funk?”

“Yeah,” Jonas elaborated. “He’s been withdrawn since Sasha snapped at him in our quarters for asking too many questions. He keeps insisting that there’s nothing wrong, but he doesn’t have much of a pokerface.”

The Capellan straightened up and proceeded towards the errant squad member without another word. “Kit?”

The Qarari turned to her, round red eyes with vertical pupils narrowing, as his mottled green skin flushed. “Friend Eydiir.” Then he returned to focus on his tricorder display.

“Stop this.”

“I do not comprehend your meaning.”

Eydiir reached out and snapped shut the tricorder display lid, making him look back at her. “You’re a Seeker. You’re also a member of Starfleet. Both identities demand Truth Above All. You’re upset over the incident in our quarters, yes?”

Kit lowered his arms, his skin darkening further. “I talk too much. I ask too many questions. I annoy and embarrass my friends. I must stop this.”

“No. You mustn't. While there may be times when it is not always… appropriate to talk about something, this desire of yours to know is a part of who you are. And it’s an admirable, and a precious quality. Your friends both accept and embrace this, and we wouldn’t want you to change.” Eydiir drew closer to him, dropping her voice to a confidential whisper. “Kit, you have already spent far too much time being something you know you were never meant to be.”

Kit’s nostrils flared, his eyes darting around him. “You- You know? Who told you?”

“The information about yourself was passed to me as part of my medical responsibilities to the squad; I have of course kept it confidential. But I speak of it to you now: you have been brave and wise enough to finally embrace who you are. Do not give up any of yourself, for any reason.”

Kit seemed to consider her words, before finally nodding. “Thank you, Friend Eydiir. Thank you.”

The Capellan allowed a smile. “Now, if I know you as well as I think I do, you have the urge to hug me effusively. Hurry up and get it over with.”

The Qarari looked up at her - and embraced her warmly.

Eydiir sighed. And hugged back.

“What’s up?”

Both cadets turned to see Sasha with the others. Eydiir drew back from Kit. “It’s nothing.”

“They’re engaged to be married,” Neraxis quipped, looking around. “Where’s Giles?”

“Right behind you.” He drew up to them, nodding and smiling - though his expression became more formal on seeing Sasha. “So, have we got a mission, Squad Leader?”

Sasha seemed to have to force herself to stay professional. “We have, and I’ll explain while we’re on our way, Crewman.”

Neraxis blew a raspberry at their attitude. “Oh, this is gonna be a fun trip.”

Alpha Squad’s shuttle passed through the atmospheric force field covering the Surefoot’s opened hangar bay doors, as Giles guided the shuttle towards the Beholder, a much larger, boxier starship than their own, with a beaked forward section and an aft with three internally-mounted warp engines rather than on nacelles like Starfleet vessels, and two smaller impulse engines on the outside.

Sasha turned in the co-pilot’s seat to face the rest of the squad, sitting behind her and Giles. “Neraxis, you’ll be working with the other Security Specialists under Jared-”

“Well, that’s gonna be a frigging joy and a half,” the Bolian groused.

“Stow it. You’ll be running security sweeps, contraband scans, that sort of thing. Try not to accidentally phaser him in the nuts.”

“No promises.”

“Eydiir and Kit, you’ll be working with the other Medical and Science Specialists under Falok running health and safety checks on the crew and living quarters, and making sure their vaccinations are up to date. Once the health and safety checks are done, most of the Beholder crew will beam over for a holodeck beach party.

In the meantime I’ll be leading Jonas and the other Engineering Specialists running safety checks on the deuterium tanks; once you’re done, join us with your tricorders and we’ll finish up that much more quickly. And maybe even get back to get some beach time.”

“Sounds good to me,” Neraxis, nudging Jonas. “Wait ’til you see my bikini.”

Sasha turned her seat around to face forward, though she really wanted to focus on the young man beside her. “You okay?”

Giles kept his eyes on the display in front of him, occasionally looking up to the cockpit window at the freighter gradually filling up the space as they approached. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“I, ah, I wanted to talk to you. About us.”

His expression tightened. “Maybe after we’re done on the Beholder, okay?”

She looked at him, before leaning back in her seat. “That was easier than I expected. Thought I’d have to twist your arm.”

He never looked at her. “Maybe I’ve got things to say…”

*

SS Beholder, Shuttlebay, 2020 Hours:

The cadets gathered around their respective squad leaders, many aware of the looks they were getting from the freighter crew who were milling about, watching and commenting amongst themselves.

Jonas was recalibrating his engineering tricorder for the twelfth time, as Kit stood beside him. “Friend Jonas, is there some cultural dichotomy between Starfleet and the Merchant Service Fleet? I have heard what I assume is banter among the cadets, and the visual clues I am receiving from the Beholder crew suggests mild derision and condescension.”

“To a point, I guess. Those in the Merchant Fleet tend to look on those in Starfleet as being elitist, too concerned with rules and regulations. Those in Starfleet tend to look on those in the Merchant Fleet as being borderline criminal, lax in discipline and not qualified to join up with us.” He shrugged. “It’s probably worse because we’re just wet behind the ears cadets.”

Kit paused, taking a quick check behind one of Jonas’ ears, before asking, “Does it bother you?”

He looked up, smiling a little. “No. I’ve dealt with them all my life. They got their own way of doing things.”

“Have you met anyone who left Starfleet to join them?”

Jonas and Kit turned to see Giles standing there, looking at the crewmen, Jonas answering Giles with, “Sure.”

“And did they treat them okay?”

Jonas glanced at an equally bemused Kit, before replying. “I think they gave them a bit of teasing, but once you prove your worth to these guys, they soon take you in as one of them. Why?”

“Never mind.” Then Giles walked off.

Nearby, Sasha, Falok and Jared were walking up to a red-headed woman in dust-brown workclothes. “So, you’re the Cadet Squad Leaders?”

Sasha took the lead, holding out her hand and smiling. “Yes, Captain Wallachek. I’m Squad Leader Sasha Hrelle, this is Squad Leader Falok and Squad Leader Jared Miro.”

Wallachek nodded to the two young men, but focused on Sasha. “Hrelle? Any relation to your Captain?”

“My father, Ma’am.”

The older woman smiled and winked. “I’m assuming you get your looks from your mother.” She indicated the man at her right hand, a lithe human with a dark pencil moustache and rangy fair hair. “This is my First Mate Mr Gaines, who will supervise the team running the safety checks in the midsection.”

Then she nodded to a tall, wide-shouldered Corvallen, a hairless, earless humanoid with sectioned, tangerine-coloured skin and ridges beneath its eyes and open nostrils. “And my Second Mate Arlandh will escort your security team to the fore section. And as I want to get over and meet your very interesting father as soon as possible, I will take your medical team to our sickbay and make sure I’m the first checked over and on my way to your ship.”

Sasha nodded curiously to her, and then to her colleagues, as the group split up - and she offered a final look at Giles, as he remained with the other Flight Specialists with the shuttles. He was acting strangely, even given what had happened lately. Kami had dropped a hint that there was more going on with him than Sasha knew about.

*

Deck 4, Holodeck:

“What in the Seven Hells are you wearing?”

Hrelle turned in place, swallowing a moment as he took in the sight of Kami in a flimsy, colourful one-piece dress with a slit up the right side, and in the rear to allow her tail access. “Me?”

“Yes, you, Sodbox.” She strode up to him. “You’re still in uniform! Is that what you wear to a beach party?”

“When I’m still on duty, yes.” He turned around to continue to admire the simulation: a beach of coral-pink sand, stretching out to the horizon in either direction, lapped at relentlessly by miniature waves from a dark blue-green ocean beneath a cloudless azure sky it with a small, strong white sun above. Behind him, a wall of dark green tropical trees formed a perfect curtain to the jungle beyond, Nearby, a huge open barbecue was cooking scores of different types of meats and grilling vegetables on skewers, while tables offered drinks and percussion-heavy music played from nowhere.

He had been in holodecks before, but they proved to be limited in scope, and he had been warned about not trying to swim out into the ocean or he’d bump his head on the wall before the computer could compensate. It was fascinating; even the scents in the air felt authentic. The scene reminded him of the archipelago on Cait where he had been born and raised.

Then he remembered why he didn’t like remembering that, and shook his head. “My shorts are in the laundry.”

“Then go without. You don’t think I’ll be staying in this thing all night?”

“This is only for a couple of hours. They have a schedule to keep, bonuses to earn.”

She drew up and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Is it Captain Wallachek? Having her come onto you? Feeling guilty because of your relationship with Professor Gianopoulis?”

Hrelle frowned. “I have no relationship with Gianopoulis. And Wallachek was just being friendly-”

“Hi, Captain!”

Both Caitians turned at the sight of Wallachek, clad in an aquamarine beach dress, cowboy hat and sunglasses, as she and other members of her crew entered, escorted by Ensign Gorman from the transporter room. The visitor strode up and put her arms around Hrelle. “Such a pleasure to finally meet you, Captain! I’ve heard so much about you!”

Hrelle felt himself blush under his fur. What was it with human women and him? “Thank you, Captain. Welcome onboard.”

“Thanks! And it’s Vera, remember? You promised.”

“Yes, Captain,” Kami said teasingly beside him, patting him on the shoulder. “You promised. Hi, Vera, I’m Counselor Kami Shall.” She held out a hand to the visitor.

Wallachek offered a tight, polite smile and her own hand. “Pleasure, Counselor. Are you two, uh, together?”

“Us? No! He’s my clan cousin. His mother told me to keep an eye on him and make sure he gets laid often.” She slapped his muzzle playfully and chuckled as she departed, leaving the two captains, one amused, the other embarrassed.

Fortunately Wallachek led with, “I could do with some food, before the rest of my crew finish their medical scans and beam over. How about you?”

He nodded. “Best idea I’ve heard all day.”

*

SS Beholder, Sickbay:

Eydiir was impressed with both the freighter’s medical officer - a gruff, grey-haired human male named Odegard - and the facilities. They weren’t as advanced as what would be found on a Starfleet vessel, even one as old as the Surefoot. But they had a comprehensive dispensary, and a medical setup that accentuated long-term independence, a necessity given that such low-warp vessels would be out in the void alone for months, if not longer.

The Medical Specialists had been busy checking and updating the freighter crew’s inoculations, focusing on the carrier of the Type-D Synthococcus Novae strain that caused so much concern, while the Science Specialists went through the medical manifests, checking the inventory and histories. Kitirik looked up from his PADD. “Respected Doctor, I have noted a sharp decline in your food rations supply.”

The doctor folded his arms across his chest and put his feet up on his desk. “What exactly does that have to do with a medical inspection, Cadet?”

“I am writing a report on nutritional issues arising from long-term space voyages, and was obtaining further data. Your vessel was fully stocked before you left your last port, enough for your twelve-person crew for a year, but they are now almost completely depleted.”

Odegard shrugged. “Radiation leak spoiled a lot of it; we had to dump the contaminated foodstuffs.”

“Radiation? I did not notice any related reports-”

“Reports mean fines. Sometimes it’s better to look the other way.”

Beside Eydiir, Beaudine, Gamma Squad’s Medical Specialist, drew in a little closer to her. “So, what are you doing after we’re done here?”

She eyed him. “Returning with everyone else to the Surefoot.”

He chuckled. “Well, if you’re not interested in the beach party, maybe you’d like to come back to our quarters and watch some episodes of Fat Cat and Lil’ Kitten.”

“I am not interested in that inane children’s show that seems to have gripped the rest of the cadets.”

He grinned. “We don’t have to watch it-”

She glowered. “I’m not interested, thank you.”

Now Beaudine dropped his grin, muttering, “Guess Jared was wrong about you.”

Eydiir faced him directly. “What did he say about me?”

Something in her expression gave him pause. “Uh- nothing- it was nothing-”

She stepped closer. “I want to know what he said about me.”

Beaudine was paling now. “Really, Eydiir, it wasn’t-”

“Is there a problem here?” Falok asked, stepping up to them.

Beaudine answered first. “It was just a misunderstanding, that’s all-”

The Vulcan took a stand beside Eydiir. “Clearly, based on what I overheard just now. What did Mr Miro say about Ms Eydiir?”

Beaudine began to sweat now. “He just- it wasn’t anything-”

Eydiir scowled. “If you say that again…”

“Was it an allegation that he had engaged in some form of sexual activity with Ms Eydiir?” Falok asked. “Because that appears to be an ongoing characteristic with him and certain female members of our crew.”

Now Eydiir regarded him. “Who else?”

Falok breathed in, almost appearing embarrassed to elaborate. “I have heard him claim to have relations with Squad Leader Hrelle, Cadets Thykrill, Soolamea, Chaudri, Yeager, Counselor Shall-”

“The Counselor?” Eydiir snorted.

A red-faced Beaudine looked between the two of them. “Hey, I’m not saying I believe him! It’s just talk-”

“It is disrespectful,” Falok corrected.

“And deceitful,” Eydiir added. “Mr Falok, are you prepared to corroborate what you have heard should I make a complaint about this?”

“Of course. In fact, I had a similar talk with Ms Hrelle about Mr Faro. Perhaps I should speak with him directly-”

“Thank you, but no. I will resist the urge to challenge him to a lethal duel, and file a formal complaint following this mission.”

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. “That might be for the best.”

*

SS Beholder, Shuttlebay:

Chaudri and Drill were talking together beside one of the three Surefoot shuttles parked nearby; occasionally Giles could feel them looking over at him, but he tried to ignore them as he continued speaking with the freighter’s Quartermaster. “And it’s as simple as that? An interview and you can be hired?”

She was a portly, elderly woman with curly dark hair peppered with grey, and a charming smile as she indulged the young cadet while running through systems checks. “Well, obviously if you lie about your qualifications and we find out afterwards, expect to spend your time in the brig until our next port. But Captain Wallachek is a pretty good judge of character. You thinking of jumping ship, kid? And if so, you better have a good reason why, ‘coz Vera will ask.”

Giles considered the suggestion. If he really launched into everything that was pushing him towards leaving Starfleet - the pressure from his family, the guilt over spying on Captain Hrelle, the aborted relationship with Sasha - Captain Wallachek would probably drop him like a hot brick. “It’s just not turning out like I thought it would.”

The Quartermaster grunted. “Life never does. Well, if you want to be considered, let the Captain or me know as soon as you can.”

“Giles?”

He turned. “Rina?”

Chaudri walked up to him, looking concerned. “Can we talk?”

The Quartermaster excused herself and moved on, as Chaudri continued. “Are you okay? You’ve been acting strangely. And…”

“And?”

“And I’m wondering if you’re thinking of leaving Starfleet and joining the Merchant Service? In fact, leaving with this ship?”

He started with how accurate her guess was. “How-”

But she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you don’t make any rash decisions.”

“It’s not rash, it-”

But she held up a hand to cut him off. “Go talk with Sasha. I know she’s involved in what’s making you think this way.”

“She hasn’t done anything-”

“I’m not saying she’s making you do this. But she deserves to have a chance to hear you before you go.” She reached out and gave his hand a quick squeeze, before letting go again. “And if you want to talk, I’m available.”

He considered her words, before nodding. “Thanks, Rina. I’ll go see her now.”

*

SS Beholder, Midsection:

Sasha was used to small, narrow corridors on the Surefoot. No one could have a life in Starfleet with claustrophobia.

But this place was different. The module, designed to safely transport compartmentalised tanks of deuterium slush held at an unimaginably low cryogenic temperatures, possessed catwalks and ladders built more for functionality than comfort, with larger alcoves where displays provided statuses of the liquids within each compartment. It was cold, it was dark, it was narrow.

And Sasha had to fight to keep her mind on her job, as the squads’ Engineering Specialists Soolamea, Yeager and her own Jonas, moved from display to display, running checks on the interlocks and temperature and pressure controls, while the freighter’s First Mate, Gaines, held back, unable to conceal his boredom over escorting a group of children around his ship doing useless work. Soolamea and Yeager had finished up and returned to the ship, but Jonas was being meticulous.

She looked to Gaines. “So, is there anything you might be running short of onboard that we can get replicated for you?”

The First Mate frowned, his arms folded across his chest as he seemed to consider the offer, before finally responding. “We could do with an ID-10T component. Think you can get one for us?”

Sasha’s brow furrowed as she lifted up her PADD. “I’ll check for you, Sir-”

“No, we can’t.”

Sasha looked across at Jonas, who was kneeling down in front of the nearest status panel. He looked over at them. “No ID-10Ts. We can get you some striped paint, glass hammers, wiremesh airlocks and snipe detectors.” As Gaines chuckled and Sasha looked confused, Jonas explained to her, “They’re all Fools’ Errands, played on newbies. The ID-10T component? ID-10T. ‘Idiot’.”

“Oh.” She eyed the grinning Gaines with mock admonishment, before her attention returned to Jonas, who was making sounds to himself. “What’s up?”

“This is wrong,” he was muttering.

“What is, kid?” Gaines asked.

“Yes, Jonas,” Sasha added. “What’s up?”

He indicated the panel he had been inspecting. “The readings for this compartment - weight, volume, temperature, pressure, storage and inspection times - are identical to the one I checked twenty minutes ago.”

Gaines grunted. “Kid, it’s deuterium. It’s deuterium in all of them. Of course the readings are gonna be identical.”

“Not absolutely identical; there’s always slight variations, even by a percentage of a degree.” He checked again. “These compartments get filled individually, one at a time, at the processing plants, for safety reasons. Compartment 47-B has the exact same storage time as the other one, 45-B.”

“Why would it be like that?” Sasha asked.

“Exactly,” Gaines agreed. “You’re making a mistake, kid.”

“I don’t think so. It may be that 47-B’s status panel is somehow duplicating the data from 45-B, or vice versa.” He ran his tricorder over the panel once more.

Now Gaines stepped up beside Sasha, looking concerned. “Listen, we got a schedule to keep, bonuses to make. We literally can’t afford to be delayed because snotnose cadet is trying to make an impression-”

“He doesn’t do that,” Sasha defended.

“Sasha?”

Now she turned. “Giles? What are you doing here?”

Giles drew up to her, looking anxious. “I came to see you. Thought we could talk-”

But she held up a hand. “Wait a minute.”

“What? Are you kidding me-”

She turned back to Jonas. “Why do you think one of them would be displaying the readings from the other?”

“I don’t know, it-” He rose, moved over to one of the emergency access portholes, and squatted down again, perusing his tricorder.

“Kid,” Gaines insisted, sounding annoyed. “You’re making a mistake. Now I want all of you out of here, and that’s an order!”

“There’s no molecular crystallisation I would expect on this given the subzero materials that are meant to be in the container,” Jonas was announcing, as much to himself as to others. “And I think there’s an independent power system running inside-”

Behind Sasha, she heard Giles mutter, “Sash-”

She was prepared to ignore him - but she heard a tone in his voice that made him, and Jonas, turn around.

Giles was standing there, hands raised slightly, as Gaines stood beside him, holding a phaser to the boy’s head.

“What the hell is going on?” Sasha demanded.

The First Mate’s face was taut. “Told you this was a mistake.”

Sasha raised her hands slightly, non-threateningly, but kept focused on the freighter’s First Mate pressing a phaser against the side of Giles’ head. “Put that down. Whatever is going on, we can sort it out-”

Gaines gripped Giles’ shoulder as if he was trying to administer a Vulcan neck pinch, but instead pushed the tip of his phaser harder against the younger man’s head, all the while staying focused on Sasha. “Shut up. It’s too late to sort anything out. Now, pick up your equipment and start towards the Equipment Storage Area.”

Sasha looked to Jonas, half-kneeling there by the compartment he had just detected containing something other than deuterium slush. The young man collected his gear and stood up, as they turned and led the way down the corridor.

Dead centre of the midsection was an open area, an intersection where the other areas could be reached by catwalk or ladder. Gaines led them to a secured metal door, still holding onto Giles but wrapping on the door with the butt of his phaser.

The door unlatched and swung open, as several large humanoids in generic grey jumpsuits emerged: large, broad-shouldered Nausicaans, bone-coloured, shaggy-haired males with sharp tusks on either side of their mouths and a vertical row of small horns on their foreheads. The one in front looked at the cadets, and then at Gaines, its gravelly voice accentuating the anger in its words. “What are you doing, letting them see us?”

“It’s too late, Nunuchk,” Gaines explained. “They discovered 47-B.”

The lead Nausicaan glanced at the cadets again before replying simply, “So kill them.”

The breath caught in Sasha’s throat. What the hell was happening here? Whatever it was, she had to stall them until someone else came along.

Fortunately, Gaines sounded as opposed to that idea as she was - albeit for different reasons. “We can’t do that! Something like that would bring Starfleet down on us like an avalanche!”

“Not if you make it look like an accident! An airlock breach, deuterium spill-”

“Wait!” Sasha cried out, capturing their attention again, while she focused on Gaines. “Look, whatever it is you’ve got hidden down here, killing us is only going to make it worse for you! Because of who we are, there’ll be a full investigation, they’ll find out! Giving up now can only be good for you-”

“Shut up!” Gaines snapped, his anxiety now threatening to spill out and risk Giles’ life, or the rest of them. “We have to- We have to do something-”

“Hey, guys! Where are you?”

All heads turned at the new voices, coming from one of the corridors. Gaines started panicking. “What the hell are we gonna do, Nunuchk?”

The lead Nausicaan motioned to his friends and strode forward, stopping and indicating Gaines. “Move them to the wall! If they talk, kill them!” Without waiting for the First Mate to take action, he shoved Sasha and Jonas up against the nearest wall before continuing to the open doorway.

Sasha listened to the approach of the others - she heard Neraxis’ boisterous voice among others - and wished she had the chance to warn them without getting killed.

Maybe that wasn’t possible. Maybe she should take the risk. Whatever these men are doing, it could pose a threat to others.

She glanced down at her combadge. If the walls weren’t shielding signals, she would have secretly opened a channel by now and trusted in T’Varik to interpret and respond appropriately.

Neraxis emerged, along with Eydiir and Kit, just as the Nausicaans grabbed them. Sasha watched as the Bolian and Capellan women responded, their respective training in Starfleet Security and her upbringing giving them a fighting chance. Sasha hoped Kit would be smart and not try to struggle, he couldn’t-

Kit flipped one of the Nausicaans over his shoulder, twisting and striking the other one with his extended foot, before driving his elbow down onto the first Nausicaan’s face. He moved with an ease Sasha had never expected from the meek, mild-mannered Qarari Science Specialist. Where did that come from? Had he been taking secret self-defence lessons?

She had to do something.

With seemingly everyone else focused on the fight, Sasha bolted down the corridor at the other end from where they came, ignoring the cries from Gaines to stop. She kept moving, kept tapping her combadge, hoping to find some place where her signal could get through and she could summon help.

She cried out as a phaser beam caught the outside of her right thigh, almost making her slam into the wall before she could fully turn the corner. She forced herself to keep going, still slapping her combadge.

Until it chirped. It startled her, but she recovered quickly. “Dad! I mean Captain Hrell-”

She was knocked down, Gaines turning her onto her back and pointing his phaser in her face, fury in his expression. He looked ready to kill her.

Then her combadge chirped back. “Sasha? Is that you? What’s up?”

Gaines whispered, “Make up something, or I’ll kill your friends before he can do anything. Understood?”

Sasha nodded, swallowing and fighting her fear and nausea. “Sorry, Captain. Didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You didn’t, sweetheart. Why did you call?”

“I just…” She stared up at Gaines, who silently motioned to her to continue. “Just wanted to say sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?”

She swallowed again. “For upsetting you and Mom this morning. I didn’t mean to make her cry like that. Will you tell her I’m sorry?”

At first there was no reply, and for a heartbeat she feared she was going to get shot.

Then her father responded, “That’s okay, Sasha. I’ll speak to her now. Don’t you worry. Hrelle out.”

Gaines reached down and snatched the combadge from her chest. “Smart girl. That’ll keep you alive.”

She stared up defiantly. “For how long? Your friends are going to kill us.”

Her words made him frown, his conflicting emotions clear on his face. “They’re not going to kill you.”

“You really believe that?”

“I won’t let them.”

Now she grunted. “And you really think they’re gonna listen to you? Even if you’re holding the phaser? Guess we know who’s in charge.”

He glared. “You have no idea.” He grabbed her and helped her back up, before marching her back to the others - only to see just the Nausicaans, prompting Gaines to ask, “What did you do to them, Nunuchk?”

“They’re in the locker, you spineless human, until we work out what we do with them! Now put her in with them!”

Gaines looked to Sasha, as if seeing how right she might be now. But still he moved her towards the locker door, opening it and shoving her inside.

Eydiir and Giles both moved up to her, Giles asking, “Are you okay? Did he-”

She shook her head. “I’m fine. And I think I got a message to my father.”

“You did? How?”

“That doesn’t matter. We just have to hold out until he can get here.” She looked to the others. “Is everyone else okay?”

The storage locker was stark, long and narrow; Neraxis, Jonas and Kit stood up, some nursing bruises or holding their arms, Neraxis grumbling, “Yeah, but I’m kicking myself for not doing better-”

“Against four Nausicaans?” Sasha assured her. “We’re just cadets, not Augmented soldiers.”

“Kit might be,” Jonas joked, looking to his friend. “That was something out there, Kit.”

The Qarari cadet appeared shocked, agitated, in a way Sasha had never seen before with him. “It was nothing, Friend Jonas.”

But Jonas was shaking his head in wonderment. “I never thought you had that in you! If you didn’t go into the Sciences, you could have been a warrior!”

“I am not a Warrior, Friend Jonas.”

“I know, but I’m just saying-”

Suddenly Kit was in Jonas’ face, the skin beneath his jaw flared in a blackened hue that Sasha had never seen before, as Kit shouted, “I’M NOT A WARRIOR! I’M NOT A WARRIOR! I’M-”

He was shaking, with rage or terror, or both.

Then he turned away, moving into a corner in the far end of the room, his back to them.

The other cadets stared dumbfounded. Sasha exchanged confused, alarmed glances with Giles, before starting towards Kit.

But then Eydiir held up a hand to stop her, the other girl’s voice soft, sympathetic. “No. Let me. You think about what we can do when they come for us.”

Sasha nodded, fighting back the urge to argue, her curiosity over the reason for Kit’s dismay suppressed for more immediate concerns. “Can we open any of these lockers? Find tools, weapons?”

“They took our tricorders and tools,” Jonas muttered, still shaking over Kit’s outburst. “And everything in here is secured.”

Sasha nodded. “Then we’ll have to rely on our wits.”

And on her father getting here on time, she added to herself.

*

USS Surefoot, Deck 4, Holodeck, 2130 Hours:

Captain Hrelle surprised himself with how well he still danced, considering his age, experience and weight. But then most Caitians were natural dancers, and he remembered how much he enjoyed dancing with his late wife Hannah.

He could even do it in uniform, and in front of some his amused-looking crew, including Kami. He didn’t care; as the old Caitian saying went, “Dance like no one is watching”.

And Captain Wallachek seemed to be enjoying herself too, though he was secretly glad when the latest song did, and she asked, “Can we take a break? My old bones can’t take too much fun.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he replied, motioning her off the wooden dance floor set up in the middle of the party, and escorting her to the drinks tables. “I bet when you’re on shore leave they have to tear you from the dance floor.”

She grinned. “When I’m on shore leave I find better things to do than dance. How about you?”

His gaze narrowed at her as he poured them both some drinks. “That depends on who I find.”

They departed from the table, drinks in hand, and moved away from the table and the other partygoers, to a stretch of sand and quiet. The holodeck program had altered, bringing the sun down and reducing its intensity, and making the surrounding sky blush, as birds swooped and circled overhead. Hrelle sipped at his drink before speaking again. “When I came back into the rest of the Galaxy, I thought of quitting Starfleet and getting my own freighter, going into business for myself.”

Wallachek shook her head. “I wouldn’t recommend it, Esek. We have the creditors always nipping at our heels, ready for the first time we break down and not make a shipment on schedule.” She sighed, finished off her drink in one go, somehow becoming more sober afterwards. “I feel guilty for enjoying ourselves when we need to get to Qullik with that deuterium.”

“It’s hardly your fault. We appreciate your patience. But I think we’re almost done. In fact, if you want I’ll beam over and finalise everything-”

Now she stopped and turned to him, putting her arms around him as she looked up into his eyes. “Oh, I definitely don’t want you leaving me. Let your cadets do the cadet things, while the grown-ups to do the grown-up things.”

Hrelle looked around for a place to put his drink - then remembered the artificial nature of it all and just threw it aside. “This venue is a little crowded for grown-up things.”

She grinned. “You must have your own quarters.” Her hands moved down him. “I really want you.”

He felt a rush of arousal at her words, her actions. He could-

No.

He drew back, confused at her mixed signals. Or maybe he was thinking of Kami, not that far away. “I’m- I’m sorry, Vera. I have some things to check up on the bridge.”

“No wait- don’t go- let’s have some more drinks- maybe another dance-”

“Maybe another time.” Feeling more disturbed by the moment, he made his way past the partygoers and towards the holodeck exit, feeling the cooler air in the corridor outside.

“Hey, Furball!”

He stopped and waited for the inevitable. “What is it, Counselor?”

Kami drew up to him, the diaphanous ends of her party dress fluttering about her legs and tail. “What happened? Something go wrong?”

“I-” He felt himself blush beneath his fur. “I’m not sure. Maybe I wasn’t really interested.”

Her gaze narrowed. “You don’t sound convinced of that. It wasn’t because of me, was it?”

“No. I mean, sort of.” He looked down both ends of the corridor before continuing. “She was saying the right things, making the right moves. But her... scent wasn’t in it.”

Kami smirked. “Humans are different to us.”

“Don’t tell me about humans, I was married to one for years. I know when a human female is in the mood. Why would she be making moves on me she doesn’t mean?” He eyed her suspiciously. “Unless you put her up to it?”

Kami folded her arms over her chest, gaze narrowing. “And how likely do you think that is?”

Hrelle was about to reply, when his combadge chirped. “Dad! I mean Captain Hrell-” Then it went dead.

Hrelle looked to Kami, waiting for a further response, before finally responding himself. “Sasha? Is that you? What’s up?”

There was another pause. Then Sasha said, “Sorry, Captain. Didn’t mean to disturb you.”

He frowned, his hackles rising by her words and tone. “You didn’t, sweetheart. Why did you call?”

“I just… Just wanted to say sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?”

“For upsetting you and Mom this morning. I didn’t mean to make her cry like that. Will you tell her I’m sorry?”

He froze, looked at an equally confused Kami, and forced himself to keep his voice calm as he responded with, “That’s okay, Sasha. I’ll speak to her now. Don’t you worry. Hrelle out.” Once his combadge chirped shut, he reactivated it. “T’Varik, can you get transporter locks on our cadets?”

After a moment, the Vulcan replied. “All but Alpha Squad. I believe they are in the midsection, where the kelbonite plating around the deuterium tanks is-”

“Listen up,” he interrupted. “Something’s wrong over there. Keep the freighter crew secure in the holodeck, contact all the cadets that you can and tell them to be on alert, and get Abed and Gorman armed and following me over there.”

“Captain, what’s happening-”

“When I know, I’ll tell you. Hrelle out.” As the combadge chirped again, he started toward the transporter room, not acknowledging Kami beside him until he panted, “You’re not coming-”

“Kiss my furry ass, you might need someone who knows her scent almost as well as you do.”

He didn’t have time or patience to argue. His baby was in some sort of trouble.

*

SS Beholder, Midsection Equipment Locker Room:

There was a bench in the room, secured to the floor, but Jonas had managed to unbolt it and partially disassemble its support struts, offering them to Neraxis and Eydiir as hand weapons.

Sasha stood with Giles at the locker room door, peering out the tiny round window in a failed attempt to see what was happening. “They could be back at any time.”

“I know,” he muttered, fighting back his anxiety. “We should be ready-”

“Giles,” she started, continuing as she caught his attention. “I have to tell you something, just in case we-”

“We’ll get out of this.”

“You don’t know that.” She swallowed, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Giles... I am so glad you were my first. You were patient, gentle, loving...” She smiled and blushed as she added, “Enthusiastic. And the only thing I’m sorry about was the way I treated you afterwards. I was scared that I might have ruined what we had.” She reached out without looking, found his hand and squeezed it.

Giles blushed. “You don't have to say anything more-”

“Look, just shut up and accept that I probably love you.”

He looked to her. “You do?”

“Don't sound so surprised. You're sort of lovable. When you're not being a schmuck who gets himself made a hostage. What idiot does that?”

He squeezed her hand again. “I probably love you too.”

“Holy Hraxor,” Neraxis grumbled, gripping the bar like a baseball bat. “Get a room, Bumpers, after we get out of here!”

Sasha looked to the Bolian as she squeezed Giles hand back before releasing it. “Yeah, you're right. Kit? Kit, look at me. Please.”

Kitirik had been facing one of the far corners of the room, having calmed down some following a private talk with Eydiir. But he still appeared shocked and ashamed, unable to meet her gaze. “Yes, Friend Sasha?”

She looked once at her Capellan friend Eydiir, who seemed to know more than the rest of them about what Kit was going through, but refused to share it. And Eydiir continued to appear reticent, leaving Sasha to muddle through blind. “Kit, I don't know why you behaved that way, and right now I don't care. We need to get out of here alive. All of us. Can you do your duty, and function like a member of this squad? Or do you want to chicken out and stay here?”

He seemed taken aback by her response. She didn't blame him. She shocked herself with her brusque tone. But she hoped that it would be enough to snap him out of his current state.

Kit straightened up, raising his chin and staring her in the eye. “No, I do not wish to be a chicken. They seem a most… poultry animal.”

“Oh dear God,” Giles groaned.

Sasha grunted; that was more like the Kit she knew. She looked up. “Jonas, can we kill that light?”

He looked up and nodded. “The control is just behind me. Why?”

“When they open this door, I want you to put us in darkness. Then Giles and I will rush out using the bench as a battering ram, and Neraxis and Eydiir will follow with those bars. Kit and Jonas... you make a break for it.”

“What?” Jonas protested. “No! We're not leaving you guys to face them alone!”

“And we don't want to have to be distracted keeping an eye out for you two.”

Kit strode forward to stand beside Jonas. “You will not need to watch out for us, Respected Squad Leader. And if you protest further, I will respectively invite you to kiss my scaly green ass.”

Sasha looked to Giles. “How do I argue with that?”

They were startled as the heavy latch on the door clicked, and Sasha nodded to Jonas while she and Giles flanked the bench and lifted it up like a battering ram. The lights extinguished, and she whispered, “Get ready… And…”

The door slid open, a large silhouette filling the doorway, as she and Giles charged forward, driving the end of the bench into the silhouette and sending him backwards.

They dropped the bench on the fallen figure, one of the Nausicaans, as Sasha let her training in the Caitian martial arts take over, attacking another Nausicaan and trusting the others to be able to handle themselves.

There was a loud crash behind her, and she took a second to look and make sure it wasn't Jonas or Kit. But no, it was - Giles!

Giles was on the floor, clutching the side of his head and looking up helplessly as another Nausicaan raised a large cyclospanner to deliver a killing blow-

Something huge and fast raced out from one of the corridors, roaring as it tackled the Nausicaan standing over Giles, sending it sprawling.

Sasha gasped. Dad was here!

Then she had the wind knocked out of her by the Nausicaan she had been fighting, throwing her onto her rear - until she looked up to see Kami leaping onto the Nausicaan’s back, getting a choke hold around his throat as she snarled, “Finish him off!”

Sasha did - driving her foot up into the Nausicaan’s crotch.

He collapsed to his knees, clutching his groin as Kami squeezed harder, making the Nausicaan’s eyes roll into the back of his head and sending him into unconsciousness.

As Kami released him ungently, a noise made Sasha’s attention return to her father, as Captain Hrelle struggled with the largest Nausicaan - the tide turning when Hrelle caught the Nausicaan’s right arm extended. And broke it in the middle with a crack that was immediately swallowed up by the Nausicaan howling in agony.

Hrelle didn’t stop there, breaking one of the Nausicaan’s legs before grasping his opponent’s shaggy hair and slamming his head repeatedly into the nearest wall.

A second Nausicaan attacked Hrelle, but swiftly the Caitian spun around and broke his attacker’s neck, letting the body fall to the deck.

Now he turned to the remaining combatants, arms extended as if he still had claws, and roared, daring for another to challenge him.

The distraction allowed Neraxis and Eydiir to retrieve the phasers and herd the other freighter crew together. Hrelle straightened up. “Is everyone okay? Sasha? Giles?”

Kami helped Sasha back to her feet, as Sasha replied, “Yes, Sir.” She smiled. “Thank you for saving us.”

Hrelle rushed up and hugged her, before drawing back and noticing Kami’s dress had been torn in the fight, leaving her left breast fully exposed. “Sorry, Counselor.”

She shrugged. “Someone mind telling us what is going on?”

Sasha nodded towards a prone Gaines, who didn’t look up at him. “Compartment 47-B isn’t holding deuterium. Jonas found anomalies, and then First Mate Gaines pulled a phaser on us. His Nausicaan friends were hiding out here, and were trying to work out how to kill us and make it look like an accident.”

Hrelle looked down at the First Mate, before drawing up to him, reaching down, grabbing him by his hair and lifting him back to his feet, oblivious to his cries. Then he released the man’s hair, only to put his furred hand around his throat. Hrelle’s voice was a low, dangerous growl. “Given that you were getting ready to kill my baby girl, I strongly advise you to make your next response a very, very considered one: will you cooperate and show us what’s in that compartment?”

He squeezed the man’s throat. Just a little.

Gaines nodded.

Footfalls echoed from a corridor, immediately followed by Lt. Abed and Ensign Gorman, brandishing phasers. “Captain, what’s-” He was momentarily distracted by Kami’s dishevelled state. “Uh, Counselor, are you aware-”

“That I have boobs? Yes, Prakesh, I do, but thank you for reminding me.”

“Lieutenant,” Hrelle snapped, recapturing his Tactical Officer’s attention again. “Have Mr Gorman get the dead and surviving Nausicaans in an airlock. Mr Abed, I want you to secure the bridge. Mr Ostrow, can you follow him and piggyback the internal communications here to the Surefoot and bypass the interference our combadges are getting down here?”

“Yes, Sir, uh, no problem.” Too late Jonas found he was staring in the Counselor’s direction, and that others saw him staring.

“Clean thoughts, Jonas,” Kami advised.

Hrelle continued. “Neraxis, gather any other cadets still onboard and sweep the rest of the freighter, collect any remaining crew and put them into custody. There’ll be no brigs, but there’ll be airlocks.” Hrelle released his grip on Gaines’ throat. Slightly. “Now… show us what you’re smuggling.”

Gaines took them to an emergency access hatch on Compartment 47-B, a circular porthole normally designed for maintenance crew to enter when the compartments were empty to perform safety checks. He was sweating. “It’s not my fault- it was her idea-”

“Captain Wallachek?” Hrelle watched Kit run checks on the porthole’s locks, to make sure Gaines wasn’t about to commit murder/suicide by having them flood the corridor with sub-zero deuterium slush. “You’re pinning all this on her?”

“She made the deal with the Nausicaans! She didn’t want to make you suspicious, so she agreed to let your cadets come play over here while she kept you distracted on your own ship.”

“Play?” Eydiir sneered, holding one of the bars like a club near him.

“You weren’t supposed to find anything! Just run your little checks and go back! Why did you have to-”

“Be brilliant at our jobs?” Sasha knelt down beside Kit and helped him remove the porthole. “Guess we can’t help ourselves-” She reacted at the smell that came through.

Hrelle, and nearby, Kami, reacted more profoundly; the scents from within were almost overpowering. He forced himself to keep control as he watched Sasha activate the torch on her tricorder and peer inside.

The girl paled, drew back, eyes wide. “Dad…”

He dropped to the floor beside her, looking inside now, the smell of sweat, of waste… of some bodies… almost too much. He forced down his response, allowing his superior vision to adjust to the darkness.

The compartment was barely a metre in height, but wide and deep.

And filled with children: humanoids, grey-skinned, hairless, scaled, with deep black eyes and stubby noses and slit mouths. They were dressed in rags, huddled together, staring fearfully at the intruders, drawing back away from the porthole despite the overcrowded conditions.

Beside him, Sasha whispered, “Who- Who are they?”

“Malurians.”

“Who?”

His expression hardened. “They used to be a major pre-Federation power in the Alpha Quadrant, advanced when Terrans were barely leaving the proverbial nest. About a hundred years ago, an artificial intelligence called Nomad sterilised the Malurian system and all the life in it, and allegedly threatened to move onto Earth and do the same, before Captain James Kirk managed to destroy it.”

“How can- how can an alien device wipe out a whole system of its life?”

“I don’t know; like most of the outrageous incidents involving Kirk, the details were classified. Anyway, it was believed the Malurians were all extinct, but since then pockets of small colonies have been found scattered, and attempts have been made to incorporate them to ensure the survival of their race.”

She checked her tricorder readings. “There’s between eighty and a hundred in here. Some have died. Others are sick. Captain, it’s the Synthococcus Novae virus. They’re infected. And they definitely do not have sufficient immunity.”

Mother’s Cubs… He felt his heart race as he looked into their confused, terrified faces. “Go in, start leading them out. Be gentle with them, Sasha, they’ve been through a lot.”

“Yes, Dad- I mean, Sir…”

Hrelle shifted to allow her to enter the compartment, before rising and facing Gaines, his mood shifting like sand from a wave. His voice was a dangerous growl. “Where did they come from?”

Gaines was sweating and shaking. “The Nausicaans found a small colony of them on an asteroid in the Mazar system… they were cut off from the rest of the Galaxy, struggling to survive there-”

“So you decided to help them out? How generous of you. Where are you taking them? And why children and not adults?”

Gaines swallowed, blinking from the sweat dripping into his eyes. “The pergium mines on Quillik… Malurians make good diggers, they’re used to the dark, they can survive on low oxygen levels and temperatures… they took the children because they could get more of them into the compartment, and they were- they were easier to-”

“Easier to control?”

Hrelle drew closer, until Gaines was backed against the wall behind him, unable to get further away. The First Mate blinked rapidly. “It’s not my fault-”

“If you’re smart you won’t say another word.” Eyes still fixed on Gaines, Hrelle snapped, “Eydiir, find an airlock to put him in and come back. If he resists, use whatever force you desire.”

“Aye, Sir.” Eydiir drew closer. “Move.”

Hrelle shot a look at Kami, before turning to the wall intercom and calling the bridge. “Mr Abed, how are things up there?”

“Fine, Sir. We have secured the freighter; it’s not been too difficult, with most of the crew still over on our ship and our cadets here, we outnumbered them.”

“Patch me through to T’Varik.”

Seconds later, the Vulcan’s voice carried over. “Yes, Sir?”

He breathed in. “Commander, Alpha Squad has discovered a compartment with between eighty and a hundred Malurian children.”

There was a pause before T’Varik replied. “Children, Sir?”

“Slaves. The freighter crew are slave traffickers. The children are suffering from exposure to Synthococcus Novae, as well as malnutrition, dehydration, multiple levels of trauma. I want Dr Ling or one of her nurses over here to supervise. Split the cadets and crew, keep one half here carrying the children to the shuttle bay for transfer either by shuttle or the onboard cargo transporters. Set up a triage unit in our own cargo bay.”

“Aye, Sir. I should point out that our own resources will be inadequate-”

“I know. On my authority as captain of the Surefoot I’m declaring a Class 3 Disaster. The Impala is the nearest Starfleet vessel, so send a direct message to Captain Arrington, they can transport the children and the prisoners to Starbase 154 better and faster than us. And just in case Lucille decides to be obstreperous, remind her you’ll also be contacting Starfleet Command.”

“Aye, Sir. What about the Beholder crew currently locked in the holodeck?”

“They can stay in there for the time being. Lt. Abed is maintaining the freighter’s bridge, keep him apprised. Hrelle out.” He smacked the intercom button.

“Are you okay?”

He looked to Kami, who was standing near him, having fixed enough of her dress to keep people from doing double takes. He breathed out. “No. But I’m much better than what those children have gone through.”

“Captain?”

He turned to see Sasha halfway out of the porthole, snapping, “I told you to get them out of there!” Then he saw the look on her face, and regretted the harshness of his question, forcing a more gentle, “What is it, Sash?”

“They’re- They’re scared- or maybe the Universal Translator doesn’t work for them-”

“It should work, their language was established and well-known up until a century ago.” He nodded. “Okay, I’m coming in.” He looked to Kami. “You too.”

“Of course.”

The porthole wasn’t big, and for an embarrassing moment Hrelle thought his belly was too much for it, and he would end up stuck there like that bizarre honey-coloured bear in those stories Sasha used to like as a child. But he forced his way through, followed by Kami and Sasha, the three of them just about able to sit up, using tricorders to illuminate the interior.

It was… mephitic in here, reminding Hrelle too much of the awful conditions under which he had been forced to live as a slave. The children must have been in there for weeks, barely fed, and though he could see the connections to a life support unit and waste recycler, the power systems Jonas had identified earlier, neither was enough. Then there was the sickness… the deaths…

And the fear, the fear he saw in their faces, torn from their homes, their lives, by aliens with designs on them. He knew that too. In his softest voice, he announced, “Hello everyone. My, imagine finding all of you here.” He tried to smile without baring his teeth. “My name is-”

“Fat Cat,” said the nearest child, eyes wide.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s Fat Cat,” the child, a female of perhaps four or five years of age, repeated, and it carried behind her like a wave to the rest of the children.

“They know about Fat Cat?” Sasha asked.

“Pretty Red Hair Lady showed us Fat Cat and gave us sleepy candy,” the child murmured, “Fat Cat is funny, his belly gets him stuck in places!” Then she brightened as she noticed Kami. “And Lil’ Kitten!”

Hrelle looked to Kami, who looked amused, and then took over. “That’s right! I’m Lil’ Kitten! Fat Cat and I off on another adventure when we found you!”

“Make him purr!” the child pleaded, smiling.

Others joined in with the request. Kami looked bemused. “How do I make him purr?”

Hrelle blushed and shook his head, before holding out the back of his hand. “You have to stroke my paw. Just go with it.”

Kami was smirking now as she reached out and did that. And Hrelle muttered, “Mother’s Cubs…” before launching into an exaggerated purr, and a rubbing of his head against Kami, which delighted the children.

He sighed and drew back again, focusing on the girl who seemed least afraid to be close and communicative. “Yes, I’m Fat Cat. Now, what’s your name? Let me see, I bet I could guess it. Is it… Sarjenka? Is it… Cinderella? Is it… Flobbidobbidobbidob?”

The last name made the girl giggle.

“I was right!” Hrelle exclaimed, nudging Kami. “It is Flobbidobbidobbidob! I always get it right!” Then he leaned forward, making no overt moves towards the girl. “Well, Flobbidobbidobbidob, you remind me of my little girl.”

He pointed over to Sasha, who offered them a wave. “There she is. She used to be as little as you, and I would put her on my shoulders and carry her around so she could touch the sky. Then when I looked away, she started growing, and wouldn’t stop. Now, if I carry her around on my shoulders, she bumps her head on the ceiling. Bump! Bump! Bump!”

The girl giggled again.

Now Hrelle looked around; they couldn’t stay in here for too long without getting them help. “It’s not very nice in here, is it?”

The girl sobered up, finally shaking her head.

“Would you like us to take you home?”

She nodded - her eyes welling with tears and her face screwing up.

Hrelle held out her arms. “Come here, sweetheart…”

He held her.

Seven Hells, he thought. She felt so thin…

*

Giles had been ready to die.

He had been ready to fight, and possibly win. But when the Nausicaan had caught him with a glancing blow from a cyclospanner and knocked the wind out of him, he collapsed like a house of cards before his opponent. He looked up, watching. This was it. He was ready to die. His family would have a wonderful funeral for him.

But he didn’t want to die. He had a life. He had Sasha, and Captain Hrelle, and Counselor Kami, and everyone in Alpha Squad, and Rina, and Velkovsky, and he was about to lose it all-

And then he wasn’t looking at his death anymore. He was looking at Captain Hrelle racing in and tackling the Nausicaan about to deliver his death, grappling him and proceeding to break the Nausicaan like a china doll. Another Nausicaan tried to attack him - and Hrelle promptly broke his neck like it was nothing, before roaring, challenging the others to try the same.

Giles had known Hrelle for weeks, had only seen and heard hints that there was more to the genial, paternal, pot-bellied man than met the eye. He had told Giles in confidence that he had killed with his bare hands. Now he saw the man in action, saw his superior Caitian strength and a lifetime of formidable fighting experience.

And he had saved Giles’ life in the process.

Giles had kept mostly silent since then, answering others only when spoken to, as he assisted Hrelle, Sasha and Kami in finding out what was being smuggled.

Children. Slaves. Dear God, what could make people like the Beholder crew commit such a terrible act? They seemed like ordinary, decent people! He couldn’t fathom it. He really couldn’t.

He watched as Hrelle carried out the first of them, holding them like they were his own children, carrying the ones too weak to move themselves, speaking to them, reassuring them. He did it so easily; Giles was hesitant about how to approach them, after all they’d been through. What if he said or did the wrong thing, and they ended up worse?

“It’s okay, Giles,” Kami said as she drew up beside him, looking emotionally drained but still observant, since she had practically read his mind. “They need gentle guidance and reassurance. Be their big brother. Tell them what you would want to hear when you were young and afraid.”

Giles thanked her and took the advice, taking the children’s hands and guiding them up to the shuttlebay, where other cadets and one of the Surefoot nurses examined them, gave them antibiotics and antivirals, hydrators and vitamin supplements, as well as basic food and water.

And someone else had thought of replicating clothes in children’s sizes, and other cadets were helping to clean up the children, using the shuttlebay’s emergency sonic shower units. He smiled as he saw Neraxis put her experience as a big sister to good use, rounding up the more active ones and keeping them out of trouble - albeit following having a good run around after being cooped up for so long.

Then there were those children who hadn’t survived… he had helped there, too, providing the replicated body bags as the captain carried them out, no less gently than he did the living, before taking them on antigrav gurneys to a stasis chamber. Only now Giles saw the tears on the man’s face, soaking into the fur on his muzzle, and they were tears that Giles soon echoed; had his father been here, he would have made some cutting remark about being a man.

But when that terrible task had been done, the Captain was back to his old jovial self, he was kneeling down in front of one of the Malurian children, letting them stroke his hand while he did the Fat Cat purring expected of him. It looked like the first time they had smiled or laughed in weeks.

Giles and the other pilots made the rounds between the Beholder and the Surefoot, carrying sick and healthy children over and returning for more, and when that was done, they were moving back and forth from the industrial replicators, creating sleeping mats and blankets. Occasionally he would nod at Jonas or Kit or Eydiir as they did whatever they could. Those times he saw Sasha, his gaze lingered.

It was twelve hours after the discovery of the Malurians before Alpha Squad was sent back to their quarters, to get four hours’ sleep, before returning and taking over emergency duties, either keeping the ship running or securing the freighter or monitoring the children - or the prisoners, who had been gathered together, patched up where necessary, and then moved into the brig or back into the holodeck.

Their quarters seemed a strange, unfamiliar place, the exhausted Squad slumping down onto chairs or the floor and wearily removing their boots and socks. They found freshly-replicated sandwiches and drinks waiting from them, presumably from Kami or even the Captain. Sasha muttered, “Just eat, take a shower, or go straight to bed.”

“No argument there,” Neraxis muttered.

Giles looked around, a thought crossing his mind as he rose. “Shower sounds good right now.” He entered their sleeping quarters before anyone else, making sure no one saw him pull out his case from under the bed and take out the secret communicator, before entering their bathroom. He stripped off and took the communicator and a towel into a sonic shower stall and activated it, keeping the sonic waves away from him and the sensitive equipment as he slid down to the floor and activated the communicator.

He got a response quicker than he expected. “Son? Is that you?”

He swallowed. “Yes, Dad. I have something important to tell you.”

“I got a report from your aunt! The Impala has been ordered to intercept you! What’s happening-”

“Dad-”

“The report mentioned a freighter, the Beholder- did Hrelle attack it-”

“Dad, shut up and listen for once.” He breathed in again, his heart racing. “Today I was almost killed.”

“What?”

“The freighter was carrying slaves. When we discovered them, we were attacked. Someone stood over me, ready to crack my skull open.”

“Giles! My God, what was that bastard Hrelle thinking, putting you into that situation-”

“Dad… SHUT UP. That ‘bastard’ saved my life! My life and my friends’ life! He has been consistently patient and generous and caring to me, when I’ve given him no reason whatsoever to do so! When you and Aunt Lucille and my uncle and everyone else in our family has tried to get me to spy on him, to betray him, condemn him!”

“Giles-”

He stood up again, approaching the sonic waves. “No more, Dad. I’m fed up with it all. No more betraying him. No more being your spy. No more Starfleet.”

“Giles, damn it, listen to me, boy-”

But the boy brought the communicator up to the head of the sonic shower, wincing at the feedback as the waves short-circuited the sensitive components within.

He let the communicator drop to the floor, and let the sonic waves wash over him…

*

USS Surefoot, Alpha Squad Quarters:

“Friends?”

Sasha, Giles and the others were dressing silently in the main room, most feeling like they had hardly slept. Kitirik, however, appeared awake and alert. Sasha wondered how much sleep his people actually needed - then realised just then how little she knew about his race, or his planet. “What is it, Kit?”

“I know we have work ahead of us… but I wish to apologise, and to explain myself.”

Sasha rubbed her eyes. “Are you sure this is the time-”

“We have time,” Eydiir replied cryptically, ignoring Sasha’s look and focusing on Kit. “Go on. This is long overdue.”

Kit nodded, turning to the others. “Friend Jonas, I am sorry for yelling at you as I had. When you kept insisting I could be a warrior.”

Jonas blinked, glancing at the others. “I’m sorry about that, Kit, I didn’t know it would upset you like that.”

“No, you didn’t. So you should not apologise. I, however, knew what it meant to me. As I have told you, the Qarari are comprised of one female gender but five male genders, each genetically and socially distinct, and serving a separate function within our society: Warriors, Workers, Chancellors, Seekers and Creators.

I was born a Warrior, born with armour plating and reinforced muscle and fangs and claws. I was raised by Warriors. I was trained to be a Warrior. And such is our society that the notion that I would want to be anything other than a Warrior would be… unthinkable.

But I thought it. I never felt comfortable within my own skin. I did not want to be a Warrior. I wanted to be a Seeker: one who sought answers, through the sciences or medicine. It was a revelation to learn about physics, biology, chemistry… how our lives, our Universe was put together, and held together. It was… joyous.”

His expression sobered. “It was a joy my family, my community, did not share. I asked why it was wrong to feel, to want, as I did. In response, they sent me to a re-education facility.” He trembled now. “They were… very thorough in demonstrating how wrong I was, that our Behest made us what we were, and to challenge that was to challenge everything about our society. And no one wants to do that, do they?”

He looked up at them again. “I hid how I felt, acted as they expected, believing I would never have a chance to be who I really was. I was…. miserable.

Then Starfleet, the Federation, came to our world. I was assigned to escort and monitor a Starfleet officer during his stay. But I did more than that. I talked to him. I opened up to him. And he gave me an opportunity to leave, to leave my world and my life and start fresh, and true to myself. I claimed Asylum. The captain of the vessel sponsored my application to Starfleet Academy.”

Tears welled in his eyes. “When I read the application form for the Academy, and saw the question that asked me what I considered my gender to be… what I saw myself as, not what my people or my faith or my government saw me as… I cried. It was the first time that my belief seemed to matter to others.

I underwent corrective genetic surgery to change my gender to that of Seeker. It has not been… easy. There have been ongoing medical complications; I was the first Qarari the doctors had ever performed such a technique upon. But I am managing to adapt.”

Sasha looked to Eydiir. “That’s why you seemed to know what was troubling Kit, isn’t it? And that’s also why you didn’t tell us.”

The Capellan woman nodded. “Medical confidentiality.”

Sasha looked back at Kit again. “Why didn’t you tell us any of this sooner?”

He swallowed. “I had grown… comfortable, in being seen solely as a Seeker of Knowledge, a Starfleet Academy Science Specialist. And all my friends saw me this way. I did not want to be reminded of what I was.”

Jonas had paled. “And that’s why you reacted like you did when I kept calling you a Warrior?”

Kit nodded. “My Seeker’s body is weaker than my Warrior’s, but I still remember much of my military training. It returned when that rude Nausicaan attacked.” Now his tears flowed, as he made an effort to wipe them away. “I feared revealing my secret to my friends would make them see me in a different way. You will not see what I am. You will only see… what I was.”

Sasha drew forward and hugged him. “You know what I see? A friend.”

The others drew closer, Giles patting him on the back. “A friend who tells really bad jokes.”

“And leaves his shed skin around,” Neraxis added, joining in.

“And likes to hug,” Jonas offered, grinning. “A lot.”

“Anything but a warrior,” Eydiir finished. “We promise you.”

Sasha pulled back. “Now come on, we have to get to the bridge and get our assignments. We can eat later.” As the others nodded and continued dressing, she smiled around at the others - and noticed Giles was looking sad. She wanted to stop and ask him why, but there was no time.

*

Alpha Squad arrived on the bridge, reporting to Commander T’Varik first in the briefing room. “Alpha Squad, you should be made aware that no more of the Malurian children have died since you were last on duty.”

Sasha looked to the others, nodding. “That’s good to hear. I just wish we could have done something for those who already died.”

“Agreed.” T’Varik breathed in before continuing. “But you should also keep in mind that without your superlative efforts in uncovering the trafficking operation, alerting Captain Hrelle and assisting in the capture of the traffickers, none of the children were likely to have survived to reach their destination.

The Captain has placed notes of commendation in the records of all the Surefoot crew for their efforts during this emergency. But I have personally nominated the members of Alpha Squad for the Starfleet Medal of Commendation for their particular efforts.”

Sasha looked at the others again, shocked but pleased. “Thank you, Commander.”

“It is not guaranteed that my nomination will be approved. However, if it is, then it will be your second such award, Sasha. I trust you will not be jaded by the experience.”

Sasha smiled. “No, Ma’am.”

More serious now, the Vulcan added, “If I might offer some advice to all of you: in years to come, life might lead you into doubt, disillusionment, dissatisfaction. If this happens, look back on your efforts here. Remember what you did. Starfleet is not just about exploration or defence. It is about saving lives. I am very proud of you.”

“Proud?” Sasha teased. “I thought Vulcans had no emotion?”

“Yet another cultural misinterpretation. The emotions are present, merely employed at controlled moments such as this.” Then she lifted a PADD from the adjacent desk. “However, there is a more distasteful matter to be dealt with. Normally I would wait until this current emergency is resolved, but I wish to take advantage of the imminent arrival of the Impala. Cadets, be advised that you are now participating in an ongoing formal disciplinary hearing involving a fellow cadet, against whom a number of allegations have been raised by multiple sources.”

The six cadets looked to each other, allowing Sasha to ask, “Commander, who is this about?”

“Beta Squad Leader Jared Miro.”

*

Deck 4, Brig:

Hrelle said nothing as he stood behind the invisible force field separating him from the single prisoner in the cell. He remained still as a statue as watched her lying there on the bunk, waiting for her to open her eyes.

Finally he grew tired of waiting, and muttered, “Captain.”

Vera Wallachek jolted up, eyes wide… and slipping on a mask of distress. “Esek? Thank God you finally came!” She rose to her feet and stood in front of him. “There’s been some terrible mistake! I have no knowledge of what my First Mate was up to-”

“Captain-” he repeated.

“Whatever lies he’s been telling, I can assure you-”

Swifter than she expected, he slapped his open palm against the force field, making it spark and growl in protest, and making her step back instinctively.

His face remained as taut as his voice. “You were positively identified. We showed the Malurian children photos of the crew. You were the Pretty Red Hair Lady who gave them sleepy candy and let them watch Fat Cat and Lil’ Kitten. Then they woke up in a tomb. Where they all would have died if not for my crew’s actions.”

She stood there a moment longer… and he could visibly see the pretence of innocence slip from her like a discarded cloak. “Please… let me explain… come in here…”

He growled. “Oh, that wouldn’t be safe for you. Not in the least.”

Wallachek’s expression shifted once more, from contrition to defiant anger. “How dare you judge me? You think I wanted to take the Bel-Zon’s money?”

“The Bel-Zon?” That made him react. The Bel-Zon were back in business? He had heard that with the capture and execution of many of their leaders, the criminal organisation had fallen apart.

“Yes! You think I wanted to do what I did? I’m not a monster!”

His eyes narrowed. “You could have fooled me.”

Her face twisted into a scowl. “Screw you! Standing there, living your comfortable Starfleet life! Do you know what it feels like to have a business teetering on the edge of bankruptcy? To work hard for years, to scrimp and save, to have people depend on you for their livelihoods, and to have all your dreams scuppered by a malfunctioning warp core or a solar storm?”

“No,” he finally admitted, his voice dead. “I don’t know what that feels like.

I do know what it feels like to be a slave. I know what it feels like to be seen, not as an individual with rights and dreams, but as a commodity, a piece of property. I know what it feels like to be locked away in a container for weeks, lying in my own filth, starving, choking. I know what it feels like to be made to do terrible, terrible things to avoid punishment, knowing I might still receive punishment anyway.

I know what it feels like to be raped.

I know what it feel like to be tortured.

I know what it feels like to have hope bled and beaten and burned from me. I know what it feels like to think I will never see my family and friends and old life ever again.

I know what it feels like to want to be dead more than to be alive.

I know what those children felt like. What you put them through.

But you’re right, I don’t know what it feels like to have business difficulties. And maybe that’s far worse than what I went through, or what you put those children through. So maybe you should use that as your defence at your trial. You might get lucky.”

He started to turn away, but stopped and offered a final, “But if you do get lucky, and someday get freed, do something smart for once: go away. Go far, far away. Because if by chance we ever run into each other in this life, I swear by the Great Mother Herself… I’ll rip your throat out.”

He departed.

*

“Captain’s Log, Stardate 54868.9: The Impala has arrived, and I must complement Captain Arrington’s crew for their speed and efficiency in taking over, their larger ship and complement better able to manage the Malurian refugees and the crew of the Beholder… as well as the bodies of both. They will also equip the freighter with a skeleton crew to pilot it to Starbase 154. We have also provided our collected data and individual accounts of the incidents, for the investigation and trials, and instructed the cadets that they might be called upon for further testimonials in the future.

I don’t know if I can trust Captain Wallachek’s assertion that the slaver operation was the work of the original Bel-Zon organisation, or a newer incarnation. Maybe it doesn’t matter. I killed to protect my cadets, from whatever threat. But it wasn’t easy. And with that in mind, I’ve made an appointment with Dr Ling to have some long-overdue medical issues dealt with.

And I’m also going to have to deal with Lucille Arrington when she gets here. Our last encounter was strained, to say the least, and I suspect it will be again. And the subject of our imminent brouhaha now will be the same as it was then...”

As if on cue, the door chime snapped Hrelle out of his monologue. “Enter.”

Giles stepped inside, standing to attention and looking tense. “Cadet Giles Arrington reporting as ordered, Sir.”

“At ease, Giles.” Hrelle leaned forward. “I know Alpha Squad’s been working without a decent break.” He pushed forward a plate of sandwiches. “There’s ham and cheese, or roast beef-”

“Sir…” Giles swallowed, his face red. “I wish to tender my resignation, effective immediately.”

Hrelle blinked. “There’s no need for that, Cadet. If you don’t want a sandwich, just say so.”

“Sir… I need to report that I was ordered to spy on you, using a secret communications device supplied by my father.”

“I know.”

Giles blinked, finally breaking the tension in his face and body to ask, “You do? How?”

Hrelle leaned back in his chair, folding his hands on his belly. “Occasionally I like to surprise the Galaxy with flashes of competence on my part. Yes, I know. I also know you didn’t want to do it. And in fact you haven’t really done anything to fulfil those orders. You know, if I had set you this task, I’d give you a pitiful rating.”

Looking thoroughly confused, Giles glanced around, as if hoping to find the answers he sought on the surrounding shelves. “Sir- why haven’t you had me arrested?”

He shrugged. “Well, I could say we’ve been too busy lately. But really, I wanted to see if you would do the right thing. And you did, by saying what you did just now.” He rose to join Giles on the floor. “I’ve been reading some of the testimony from the freighter crew. Those that aren’t claiming ignorance are claiming they were only following orders - as if that was a genuine excuse. They liked to think they could hide behind the defence of not having a choice.

But they did. We all do, when faced with the prospect of doing something wrong.” His gaze lowered. “Not that I’ve always been a model of integrity. But maybe that makes me better qualified to judge others… and to forgive you.”

Giles’ own eyes dropped. “Thank you, Sir. I, ah, spoke to my father hours ago. I told him I wasn’t going to do this anymore. I, ah, also told him I was resigning.”

Hrelle nodded. “No doubt he’s informed your Aunt Lucille. She’ll come collecting you. Look at me, Giles.”

He did.

“Do you really want to resign?”

Giles paled - and shook his head. “No, Sir.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing that only your direct superiors can accept your resignation, then. Now all we have to do is convince your Aunt that she can’t have everything she wants in life. Fortunately, I have experience in that department.”

*

Deck 1, Corridor:

“Squad Leader Jared Miro, report to the Briefing Room immediately.”

Jared had just left Deck 4, helping to return all the blankets and sleeping mats back to the replicators for recycling, and had been looking forward to grabbing a meal in the mess hall before collapsing into his bed, when he heard the summons from T’Varik, and quickened his pace.

He wondered what it was about. Perhaps a commendation for his hard work? He had heard rumours that the little bitch Sasha and her squad had received some, just for getting lucky and discovering the Malurians. It wasn’t fair! Had the Vulcan not been playing favourites in assigning that task to Hrelle’s daughter, it could have been him!

He entered - almost immediately skidding to a halt at the numbers of people here: T'Varik, Counselor Shall, Lt Velkovsky, Sasha, Neraxis and Eydiir from Alpha Squad; and Rina Chaudri, Soolamea and Thykrill from his own squad; and Yeager from Gamma Squad.

All women.

He looked to T’Varik, who was standing as formally as ever. “Squad Leader Jared Miro, you have been summoned to respond to a number of allegations raised against you. As per Starfleet Academy Regulations 144.6, you are not required to answer at this time, but your lack of response may be taken into account during any subsequent hearings.”

Anxious and on edge now, he focused on her rather than the sea of faces staring accusingly at him. “Commander, what is going on?”

“Mr Miro, you have made a number of statements regarding sexual relations you are alleged to have had with members of this crew, specifically Counselor Kami Shall, Chief Helmsman Lt. Velkovsky, Squad Leader Sasha Hrelle, and Cadets Thykrill, Soolamea, Chaudri, and Yeager. Is this true?”

Jared felt his face burning now, and he was trembling despite his efforts to appear cool. They couldn’t do anything to him. They couldn’t. “I… I don’t think it’s appropriate to discuss private matters like that in public.”

That declaration produced a raised eyebrow from the Vulcan. “You appear to have had a profound change of attitude regarding discretion, Mr Miro. I will ask again: are you maintaining that sex took place between yourself and the aforementioned women?”

He swallowed again, looking to Thykrill, the Andorian Security Specialist on his own squad - and the only one he had managed to win over during his time onboard. She had been a virgin, and not very good, and since that one time he had tried to keep her at a distance. He looked to her pleadingly now. But the girl only offered him a murderous scowl.

“Well, Mr Miro?”

He looked back at T’Varik again, deciding he had no choice but to stand his ground. They couldn’t prove anything, and none of them would be willing to take this any further and face public embarrassment. “Yes, Commander. I do.”

“I see. You should know that we have run a number of neurological scans on some of your alleged partners. These scans indicate that they are genuine in not remembering having sex with you. The logical conclusion is that you have employed some form of memory-alteration device or technique on them to make them forget.

This constitutes rape.

Jared Miro, you are under arrest for multiple counts of sexual assault and coercion. Security, take him into custody.”

Jared wasn’t sure he had heard properly. By the time he saw Neraxis approach, carrying electronic manacles, he was shaking. “N-No- No, wait-”

Neraxis reached for him. He pulled back - but the Bolian was bigger and faster, easily grasping his arm, twisting it behind him, then kicking him in the back of one of his knees to force him face down onto the floor, securing his wrists behind him. “Wait, please, you can’t- I WAS LYING!”

“Would you elaborate on that please, Mr Miro?”

Jared’s heart felt like it was about to burst from his chest, and not just because of Neraxis’ weight pinning him down. He forced the breath to stay in him long enough to repeat, “I- I was lying! I was lying! I didn’t- I didn’t have sex with them!”

“With any of them?” T’Varik asked.

He gasped, his head spinning. Then Thykrill spoke up, sounding disgusted as she glared at him. “Not quite. I had sex with him. But don’t worry, none of you missed much.”

“I’ll rephrase my question: with the exception of Cadet Thykrill, did you have sex with any of the aforementioned women?”

He shook his head. “N-No…”

“Thank you, Mr Miro. Ms Nemm, help him back to his feet.”

Neraxis complied, though she did so by lifting up by the scruff of his uniform over his rear end, making his underwear bunch up painfully. He caught his breath, still gasping, “I’m- I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!”

“That much is certain.” T’Varik continued. “On Stardate 55260.14, I placed a note on your permanent record for lying to a superior officer. At the time you were warned of the consequences of a repeat offence - such as you’ve just committed now.

Effectively immediately, you are expelled from Starfleet Academy. You will be taken back to your quarters to collect your belongings, and then you will be transported to the Impala, who will arrange for your eventual return to Argelius.”

He shook his head. This wasn’t happening! “But- But it was just talk-”

“No, it wasn’t. Though no physical activity took place, your lies and their unwanted, explicit nature demonstrate both sexual harassment and a profound disrespect towards your fellow crewmembers.”

Beside her, Kami had her arms folded over her chest. “Jared, we spoke about this on more than one occasion during our sessions. Perhaps we were too busy having imaginary sex in my office for you to take onboard my warnings. As Ship’s Counselor I’m supporting Commander T’Varik’s decision.”

Jared felt like his stomach had plummeted into his boots. He focused on Sasha, standing nearby, and let his anger grow. “You set them up to do all this, didn’t you, you little bitch? I want to see the Captain!”

“Captain Hrelle has other matters to deal with, but he respects my authority and decision.”

“And given that you referred to his daughter as a ‘sweet little ride’,” Kami added, “Meeting him… might not be for the best.”

“Mr Miro,” T’Varik concluded, “I hope this experience is a learning opportunity for you. Regardless of your cultural proclivities towards licentiousness, in a working environment you must look upon your colleagues as colleagues, not trophies. Perhaps you will learn from this.”

Jared told her what she could do with her advice as he was led out.

“Or perhaps not,” T’Varik revised.

*

Deck 1, Captain’s Office:

The door chime sounded. Hrelle sat behind his desk, looking up at Giles and Kami, standing nearby. The boy looked nervous. Hrelle nodded to him. “It’ll be okay.” Louder now, he announced, “Enter.”

T’Varik escorted Captain Lucille Arrington inside. The woman was as tall, blonde and arrogant as Hrelle remembered from months ago, when she had secretly delivered the high-tech communicator to Giles. The woman nodded to the boy before following protocol and approaching the desk. “Captain Hrelle.”

He nodded back. “Captain Arrington. Welcome back onboard the Surefoot. And how are you?”

She sneered. “Cut the crap, Hrelle. I’ve got the Malurians eating ice cream and watching Fat Cat and Lil’ Kitten, and the freighter crew facing the next twenty years sleeping with one eye open waiting for some other prisoner to knife them - and personally I won’t lose any sleep if they did.” Somehow she grew even more arrogant, a feat Hrelle didn’t think possible. “How lucky for you, that you just happen to stumble upon a slave trafficking operation in your sector of space.”

“Luckier for the slaves,” Hrelle replied deadpan. “And it was Giles’ squad who uncovered it. I only sit around, look pretty and let others do the real work. Bit like you, I expect - except for the pretty part, of course.”

“Very funny.” She looked at Giles now. “Let’s go, you’re coming with me.”

Giles tensed, but T’Varik responded. “Cadet Arrington is under my direct authority. He is not going anywhere.”

“He’s not a cadet any more. He resigned.”

The Vulcan straightened further. “Assuming that was the case, how would you be aware of that and not I?”

Arrington scowled at her. “I can’t discuss that.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

Kami set a reassuring hand on Giles’ arm. “Captain Arrington, if there’s some confusion regarding Giles, why not ask him yourself?”

Arrington looked to the Counselor, and then to Giles. “Well, boy?”

Giles tensed, clearly hating the attention, but finally replied, “No. I haven’t resigned.”

“There,” Hrelle concluded, reaching to a corner of his desk and producing a small gold box. “Now that that matter is settled, here’s a little Christmas present.”

“Christmas?”

“Of course; it’s Christmas Eve on Earth right now, or close enough. Giles was telling me your family still celebrates it.” He pushed it a little closer to her. “That’s for you, and your brother, and your father, and anyone else who might like it. Hope you like the colour.”

Arrington frowned at it, as if that could make the box lid lift itself. Then she reached out and did it with her hand. She took out the communicator, and then dropped it on his desk as if it were on fire. She glared at Hrelle. “How did you get that?”

“I turned it over to him,” Giles declared. “And I told them where I got it from, and why I had it.”

His aunt turned back to him, shocked. “How could you do that? You had orders!”

“Who gave orders to conduct a covert surveillance of Captain Hrelle?” T’Varik asked.

“None of your damn business!” Arrington never took her eyes off of Giles. “I don’t believe this! You betrayed your own family?”

His face screwed up with anger. “Oh yes, because that’s what what this is about, isn’t it? What the family wants? I thought it was all about finding out the truth about Captain Hrelle, for the good of Starfleet?”

“Not if this was an unsanctioned operation,” T’Varik opined. “Involving unauthorised use of Starfleet Intelligence equipment.”

Arrington turned back to the Vulcan. “You have no proof of that!”

“On the contrary, Captain, I gathered sufficient evidence from the device to confirm its origins, as well as details on the transmissions made. I believe a strong case can be made to Starfleet Command.”

“Assuming we want to do that,” Hrelle pointed out, lifting up the communicator and setting it on a shelf behind him. “But that would cause a mountain-high level of hassle. Investigations, enquiries, diversions from our mission, disruptions to the cadets-”

“Scandal,” Kami added, “On many fronts. There’ll be bodies strewn everywhere. Metaphorically, of course.”

“Or… we could just call a truce between your family and mine,” Hrelle offered. “We are supposed to all be on the same side, after all.”

T’Varik’s hands folded behind her. “I am not sanguine about allowing criminal activity to go unreported. However, my primary responsibility is towards my cadets, and any investigation arising from this would have an adverse effect on them.”

Hrelle rose and walked around from behind his desk, joining them. “Well, Lucille? Have we got a deal?”

She glowered at him. “You think you’ve got it all worked out, haven’t you, Hrelle? You think you’re so damn clever.” But then she turned on Giles. “But it’s you that’s proven to be the surprise, young man. The surprise. And the disappointment. You betrayed us.”

“Yes,” the boy admitted, looking upset but still standing his ground against his aunt. “Because my conscience wouldn’t let me continue with this. It was wrong. It was nothing more than a personal vendetta from my grandfather that he nurtured in Dad and you and my uncle and everyone else. I only wish I’d had the courage to say something from the start.”

Arrington paled. “Giles... This isn’t you saying that, it’s them. It’s him!” She glared at Hrelle. “I want to speak with my nephew alone.”

“As Academy Liaison to the cadets I most certainly will not permit that,” T’Varik declared. “You have proven yourself to be entirely untrustworthy.”

“And you have nothing to say to me that I wouldn't want my superiors to hear anyway,” Giles confirmed.

Arrington’s eyes widened. “You're gonna break your father’s heart with this behaviour! This is a disgrace. You’re a disgrace!”

Kami stepped forward, half shielding Giles, her teeth bared. “Oh, I’ve had it with you, bitch.”

T’Varik drew closer from the other side. “As have I. I will not permit you to speak to him in this manner.”

“You and Dad and my uncle and everyone else in our family wanted me to report on Captain Hrelle,” Giles reminded his aunt, his temper rising. “Well, here’s my report: I’ve lived with him, talked with him, eaten with him, worked with him. And I can tell you without hesitation that he’s not a coward, he’s not a traitor, and he’s not a criminal! He’s one of the finest men I could serve under, the finest I could learn from! I’m proud to be here!”

Arrington was turning red. “You’re talking like he’s your father!”

“I WISH HE WAS!”

Arrington raised her hand to slap Giles’ face.

Hrelle caught her by the wrist before she could connect.

She faced him, fury in her features. “Let go of me. Now!”

He didn’t move - except for tightening his grip, until her arm trembled… and the fury in her eyes began to get replaced by fear. “I- I said let go-”

“Captain,” T’Varik started, drawing up to him.

“Esek,” Kami warned, on his other side.

He ignored them both, tightening further as he spoke to Arrington through clenched, bared teeth. “Before you think of doing something like that again, Lucille, I want you to remember what I did to those Nausicaans who threatened a member of my crew. Look at what I did to them, with my bare hands. And don’t think for a cold moment that I wouldn’t send you there too if I had to.” He finally released her. “My crew. My cubs. Don’t ever raise a hand to any of them again.” He took a step back from the now-frightened woman. “Commander, escort her back to the Transporter Room.”

“Aye, Sir.”

He stayed still, until he heard his door slide shut. Then he turned around. Kami looked concerned; Giles shocked. He focused on the latter. “Are you okay, Giles?”

The young man nodded, shakily. “I’m- I’m sorry, Captain-”

“Sorry? For what?”

“That you- that you had to do that-”

He drew closer and rested a hand on Giles’ shoulder. “You don’t have to apologise. Especially not for that.”

“But what if she charges you with assault?”

Kami nudged him reassuringly. “No offence, Giles, but I am beginning to doubt if your family does anything by the book. Especially if she had to explain her own part in that, and with us as witnesses.”

Giles nodded, swallowing, his brow furrowed. “Well… this’ll be the first time I won’t mind missing the family Christmas reunion…”

He looked up, trying to stay resolute.

And failing.

Hrelle drew him into a hug, murmuring reassurances as he looked at Kami.

When he pulled back, Giles caught his breath. “Sorry, Captain-”

“You don’t have to apologise for that, either.” He drew back. “You know, I have a Christmas present for you, too.”

Giles forced himself to calm down. “Me?”

Hrelle returned to his desk and retrieved two small badges: squares with a single white circle inside each. “Unlike the communicator, these you get to keep.”

Giles stared at them. “Squad Leader insignia?”

Hrelle nodded. “Jared Miro is leaving the ship, and Starfleet. Beta Squad need a new leader, and you’re the most qualified.” The Captain reached up and fitted the insignia on Giles’ collar. “T’Varik has already sent for a replacement Flight Specialist for Alpha Squad; until they arrive, you may be pulling double duty until then.”

Kami smiled. “They look good on you.”

Giles looked stunned by the news. “I-I don’t know what to say… except thank you.”

“That’ll do,” Hrelle chuckled.

Giles smiled - but then it softened. “I won’t be with Alpha Squad anymore…”

“You don’t have to sever your ties with your friends, you know,” the Captain reminded him.

“And if you’re thinking about one particular friend,” Kami added teasingly, “Keep in mind that, unlike when she was your Squad Leader, there won’t be any hierarchical conflict now should you and Sasha choose to… well…” She looked to Hrelle. “Unless you want to play Papa Cat and forbid it.”

He stared back derisively. “Of course not. Sasha and Giles are mature individuals. I trust them both. They have nothing but my support.” He smiled as he clasped the boy’s shoulders and squeezed. “But if you break her heart… I’ll have yours for breakfast.”

Giles laughed - but then stopped, not entirely certain how serious he was.

*

Deck 1, Mess Hall:

It was the most number of crew ever assembled in the one room. And with the obvious exception of Commander T’Varik, they all looked as tired as he felt, even the experienced crew. He decided to not dawdle. “You’ve all done exceptionally well the last couple of days. Because of your efforts, the surviving Malurian children will be reunited with their families, and the Federation will assist their colony to eventually return to their homeworld to join the others. Thank you.

And because it’s Christmas Eve, a Terran holiday where a fat, furry man delivers gifts to good little children - I have left all of of you an extra week’s worth of replicator credits in your accounts.” He let them cheer that before warning, “Try not to spend it all on booze, we only have so many detoxicants onboard.

I also want to congratulate Giles Arrington for his promotion to Beta Squad Leader.”

He paused for the applause and the back slapping on a grinning, blushing Giles which followed. “From his arrival onboard the Surefoot, he’s talked incessantly about his leadership potential. Well, now he has the chance to prove it. He certainly can’t be worse than the asshole who preceded him.”

The room erupted in laughter, except of course from T’Varik.

“We will have a celebration for him. At a later date. For now, though, the ship is powering down for the night. We’re staying put, and all systems are going on standby, with a skeleton crew headed by our esteemed First Officer. The rest of us are ordered to bed for the next twelve hours. Preferably your own, but if you can’t manage that, try to get some sleep in there somewhere.” After more laughter, he finished with, “Dismissed.”

As Hrelle and Kami departed, the group milled about some, a few queuing up at the replicators to grab a snack before returning to their quarters. Alpha Squad congregated around Giles, Eydiir straightening up. “I’m pleased for you, Squad Leader.”

“Thanks, Eydiir.”

“And gladsome that you are achieving it now than earlier, when you were more a braying ass.”

Giles gave her a sarcastic thumbs up.

Neraxis slapped him on the back a third time. “Pretty Boy Makes Good! Hope you don’t turn into another Miro!”

“No chance,” he assured her, looking at Sasha. “I learned from the best.”

“We’re gonna miss you on the Squad though, Giles,” Jonas lamented, though he continued to try and be supportive.

“Indeed, Respected Squad Leader,” Kitirik agreed, looking more relaxed now since his confession than Giles had ever seen him before. “It will be strange to have someone new in our group. I do not think I will like it.”

“It’s the nature of our life, Kit,” Sasha told him. “Promotions, transfers, dismissals… And remember, Giles is only going to be in the next quarters, stinking them out with his socks and underwear instead of us.”

“They’re like roses compared to yours,” he informed her. “Yours need force fields around them for health and safety reasons.”

“Look at those two,” Neraxis quipped. “The way they talk, you wouldn’t think they were Bumpers.”

“We’re not Bumpers,” Sasha denied, flushed.

“Bumpers, Friend Neraxis?” Kit asked.

“Yeah: Bump, Bump, Bump!” She slapped the side of her fist into the palm of her other hand for emphasis.

Kit frowned - but then his eyes widened. “Ahh! Coitus!”

“No,” Giles added, looking just as embarrassed as Sasha. “We’re just friends, and colleagues. That’s all.”

“Of course,” Eydiir agreed - though the look she shot Jonas, Neraxis and Kit, in full view of the Squad Leaders, told another story.

*

Deck 1, Captain’s Quarters, 2230 Hours:

“Captain, that subspace link has been established.”

Hrelle scratched under his muzzle and prepared himself. “Patch it through.”

The desk monitor lit up, to reveal a pale, middle-aged Terran in a Starfleet Admiral’s uniform, his blonde hair and chin reminiscent of his son. He focused on suppressing his initial rise of anger. “Merry Christmas, Will.”

“That’s Admiral Arrington to you… Captain. And you have some nerve calling me, after what you’ve done to my son.”

Hrelle forced himself to stay calm; the reason for his call was too important. “Admiral, your son is the reason I’m contacting you.”

“Why? You want to gloat over your victory?”

“Will!” Hrelle snapped, regaining his composure once more when he saw the other man stop. “Admiral, since you’ve obviously already spoken with Lucille, you know I’ve agreed not to report you about that communicator. Now I’m trying to reach a further accommodation between us.”

Arrington. “Fat chance.”

“As I suspected. But like I said, I’m not here about us. The way Lucille went on before she returned to the Impala, she made it sound as if his whole family was going to cut him out of their lives, as punishment for siding with me.

I’m asking you… not to let that happen.”

“Oh? And why the hell would that matter to you?”

Hrelle leaned forward, folding his hands together to keep them still. “When I was Giles’ age, I was being groomed by my father to take over the family business on Cait. But I didn’t want that. I wanted to be in Starfleet. I wanted that more than anything else. My Papa wouldn’t listen to me. He threatened what we call R’Nesikith: a formal severing of one’s ties to their clan. It’s usually only done in the most serious of circumstances.

Family is very important to my people. But I was young, and thought that nothing was more important than what I wanted. So I left.

I went on with my life, denying for the longest time how much their absence in my life hurt me. Not having them there when I graduated, when I got my first command, when I married.” He paused. “And when I escaped from slavery, and desperately needed their emotional support. I tried to get back in touch with them, many times. There was never any response. Their absence remains an ache that has never gone away.”

“That’s such a sad story, Hrelle-”

“Will… Giles is a remarkable, gifted young man-”

“Who chose to betray his family-”

“Who chose to listen to his conscience and not participate in an illegal operation. He didn’t betray his family, he stood up to them. Did you know Lucille tried to strike him?”

That made the man react, with genuine surprise. “You’re lying.”

“Ask her yourself. He didn’t back down. He has courage, the type of courage we need in Starfleet. He can have an amazing future ahead of him. Can we at least put aside this feud and agree on that, if nothing else?”

Arrington looked ready to argue further, but frowned and replied, “Yes. We can. For him, if nothing else. I’ll… consider what you’ve said. And… thank you for saving his life. Arrington out.”

The screen went blank. Sitting opposite him, Kami smiled. “That was very decent of you. It couldn’t have been easy, contacting him like that.”

He shrugged. “I owed it to Giles.”

“But what if Arrington changes his mind and cuts the boy off from his family?”

Hrelle rubbed at his eyes. “Then Giles will do what I had to do: make his own. And he’s got a good start already here, with all of us.” He looked at her again. “What’s with that frown?”

“You told me you and your clan stopped communicating. You never mentioned they imposed the R’Nesikith on you! Great Mother, that is medieval! Who does that nowadays, especially over an argument about career?”

“My former family, obviously. I don’t want to talk about it tonight. I don’t want to do anything now but sleep.”

Kami regarded him for a moment, before slowly rising and stretching her limbs, her tail swishing languidly behind her. “I’d better let you get to bed, then.”

“You don’t have to.”

She stopped and looked at him over her shoulder, shaking back her mane. “Excuse me?”

He paused for a moment, before rising to his own feet. “You can stay. We can have a sleepover.”

She grunted. “First T’Varik, and now you.”

He smiled. “You and T’Varik slept together? Tell me more.”

“There’s nothing to tell, horncat. And there’ll be nothing to tell between us, either.”

“I know. When I said sleepover, I mean sleep. It’s been a long, exhausting couple of days, and right now I could barely raise a smile let alone anything else. And I’d love your company.” He drew closer. “But if you think it might be too hard for you-”

“I can’t believe you said that.” But she regarded him some more before nodding. “Okay. But I’m warning you, Captain, the first sign of any rise of interest from below the belt and…”

They didn’t make an effort to display themselves to each as they undressed; neither did they turn their backs or offer any human-type coyness. Hrelle switched off the lights; the environment of his quarters was more baffled than others, to allow him total darkness and silence and let his enhanced senses rest.

They climbed into bed, feeling their heat, their fur, drinking in their scents. Her back was to him, her tail brushing teasingly against his groin.

“Watch yourself down there.”

She chuckled. “Sorry. It has a mind of its own.”

“That’s usually my excuse.”

Kami’s breath slowed. “Are you okay, Esek?”

He didn’t respond immediately. “Sasha and Giles and the others were almost killed, doing what should have been an ordinary, boring task. I carried the bodies of dead children in my arms, unable to help them. The Bel-Zon might be active again. We uncovered a terrible crime, something I thought had been banished in the past. My past. And I killed. And I just feel numb to it all. I wonder if a part of me died some time ago to leave me numb.”

“No. It’s that part of you that’s talking right now, you know.”

He shuddered. “I don’t know what the future will bring any more.”

She shifted in place, looking over her shoulder at him in the dark. “When did you ever know?”

He grunted. “You got me there.”

Kami settled down again. “You and I will work all this out together - later. For now, put an arm around me.”

He complied. She reached up and started stroking his palm.

“What are you doing?”

“Seeing if this will make you purr and rub up against me.”

“No, but I’ve got something else you can stroke.”

She stopped stroking, and tightened his hold on her. “Good night, Fat Cat.”

He sighed, contented. “Good night, Lil’ Kitten…”