Academy Guest Quarters:
“It’s not right!” Mi’Tree groused, sitting sulking on the balcony, pretending to watch the sun descend behind the hills across the bay. “My daughter should not have invited those swine to join us at the table, after all the trouble they have caused! My kin-son should have turned them away!”
Just inside, Ma’Sala sat nude at the side of the bed, grunting as she twisted to trim some more excess fur from her tail. “Our daughter believed it best to mend relations, for the sake of their mutual cubs, and each other. And our kin-son respected his wife’s decision, though it was obvious it would not have been his first choice. But he is of a forgiving nature. They both are.”
“Some things cannot be forgiven! That scoundrel’s remarks about Misha-”
“Were spoken without thought, and regretted. It was obvious on his face. Get in here and help me.”
Mi’Tree rose, stretching his limbs and tail as he returned to the interior, accepting the trimmer from her as she stretched out one leg. “And now that you’re back inside, tell me what’s really bothering you.”
He dropped to one knee before her, taking her leg under one arm while he activated the trimmer, never looking at her as he muttered, “Nothing.”
“Liar. You’ve not been yourself since-” She frowned as she watched him trim the fur around her calves. “Did something happen when you were minding Misha?”
Mi’Tree paused, before switching off the trimmer again, his voice low and fragile. “I lost him. He ran off, I tried to find him, catch up with him… but I couldn’t. I couldn’t because I’m old. Old and decrepit.”
“Of course you are.” When he looked up in response, she elaborated, “We all are. Very few could keep up with that little sleekfish.”
“His parents – his young parents – cope with him!”
She leaned in. “They live on a starship, a safe, enclosed environment with internal sensors that can track a cub with wanderlust in seconds. This is probably his first time on a planet with open spaces since he started walking. He’ll rush out into it, unthinking of the mild heart attacks he’s giving his carers.” She reached out and stroked his muzzle tenderly. “Stop pulling your fur out over it. I love you, you old cat.”
He responded to the touch, but stubbornly growled, “Old...”
She chuckled. “Nothing wrong with being old… usually.” Ma’Sala leaned forward and reached out with her other hand, stroking behind his sharp-pointed ear. “We do have a wealth of wisdom and experience under our belts. Or in your case, just experience.” She chuckled at his expression. “And we have time before the evening party.”
He looked up at her. “Eh?”
She smiled slyly, letting her purr travel through her body to his. “I know you prefer Bneea, you were married to him before you two married me, and you prefer men in general… but we have been known to make love on rare occasions.” Her expression softened. “And on even rarer occasions, I like to let my guard down and share some intimacy with someone I love and trust.”
Her leg descended, dipping beneath his kilt.
She smiled now. “Ooh, that doesn’t seem old and decrepit...”
*
San Francisco Spaceport:
Neraxis rose to her toes to look past the crowd in front of her, as travellers from the latest shuttle landing poured out through the Arrivals Gate. “This has to be them! You’ll help with the bags, won’t you, Scrappy?”
“Of course.”
She dropped and looked to him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he lied, looking pale. But then he faced her. “What if they don’t like me?”
“What? They’ve met you already! Remember, when Captain Hrelle arranged for their visit to see me get that medal?”
“That was different,” he grumbled. “We weren’t dating then. I know you told them about us.”
She laughed. “They liked you then, and they’ll like you now! No one will say anything, I promise-”
“NER-NER!”
Neraxis bolted upright, face flushing cerulean as she waved her arms. “MAMA!”
Jonas looked up to see a wave of blue pour in through the gates, as nearly a dozen bald Bolians of various ages and sizes swarmed up to Neraxis and Jonas, surrounding them as Neraxis began hugging her mother and the older brothers and sisters.
Jonas wanted to step back and let his girlfriend have her moment with her family – but they were on him, too, her mother coming up and embracing him with huge arms. “Jonas, darling boy, it’s wonderful to see you again! Ner-Ner messaged me with the bad news about your mother being late, I’m so sorry! Have you spoken with her since?”
Jonas tried to catch his breath, just about managing. “I, ah, tried, but I think their comm system’s down as well-”
“Well, I’m sure she’ll be fine, and we’ll be taking more than enough images of you and Neraxis tomorrow, I’ll share them with her, I promise!” She pulled back, regarding the young man with obvious, genuine affection. “In the meantime, you’re an honorary member of the Nemm family!”
“Yeah, good luck with that, Scrappy!” Neraxis joked, laughing as she continued hugging her siblings. There seemed so many, Jonas, an only child, had no idea how they managed to keep things organised, remembered who everyone was or what they liked or hated or did or-
Suddenly he felt something tugging his hand, and he looked down to see the youngest girl – Alazea, if he recalled correctly – at his side, beckoning him to come down to her level.
He dropped to one knee. “Uh, hi there. Can I, ah, help you?”
She stared at him with narrow, accusing eyes, before grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket, leaning into his right ear and announcing with a cackle, “YOU DO NAUGHTIES WITH NER-NER!”
*
Academy Hall:
Doc Masterson slipped on the Smile, the One That Never Fails, as he chuckled at the woman’s joke. “Well, Ma’am, you oughtta know something about Cowboys: we never-”
He stopped flirting as he looked past the woman’s shoulder to see Eydiir standing there, staring directly at him.
Closer to him, the woman, an attractive civilian with a mass of sable hair and a tint of hazel in her eyes, grinned. “You never what, Zeke?”
He dialled down the charm as he sensed the urgency from the cadet, practically being phasered into him from her eyes. “We, ah, never fail to respond to an emergency call.” He nodded past her. “One of the Medical cadets from the Surefoot, probably wants to thank me for coaching her. You think y’all can spare me a few minutes here while I speak with her?”
She reached up and gripped him by his jacket. “No. I’m going back to my quarters.” But then she leaned in and added, “Annex B, Room 412. Don’t be long, or I’ll start without you.”
Masterson breathed in her perfume as she glided around him and towards the door, before he started up to the Capellan girl. “Make it quick, I’ve got an urgent consultation waiting for me.”
“So I saw,” Eydiir replied dryly. “Forgive me, Doctor, but I thought it was better if I asked you first.”
“Asked me what?”
She breathed in. “My initial intention was to stay here and begin full formal training at Starfleet Medical. I have changed my mind. I wish to return to my duties onboard the Surefoot and continue to study part-time there-”
“Done.”
She blinked. “Excuse me, Doctor? I will need your sponsorship, your assistance in completing the courses, certifying me-”
“I said Done. It’s a done deal.”
She frowned. “You are not just saying this so you can go have sex with that woman?”
He chuckled. “No, I’m not! You’re strong, smart, hard-working, and you have more practical experience than most of the rest of the staff! Plus, you can handle a blade… and if this little brouhaha with the Klingons heats up some more, I could use someone watching my back in Sickbay.”
“But… you will need to get clearance from Captain Hrelle-”
“We already discussed it, after you had decided on going full time here. And he made it plain that he would have you back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”
Eydiir beamed. “I will take that as a positive!”
“So you should. Go find T’Varik and tell her you’ve cleared it with me.”
“I will. Thank you!” She waved towards the doors. “Please, enjoy yourself, she appears most fit!”
He tipped an imaginary hat. “Thanks... Nurse.”
*
The main room was packed with hundreds of people; although Sasha would have expected the guests to outnumber the cadets, in fact it seemed that not everyone had people attending the graduation, or who might not be showing up until tomorrow. And factor in the Academy instructors and Liaisons, and the crew of the vessels who participated in the AWE Program, Starfleet outnumbered the guests.
It had been a dizzying experience for Sasha all the same, meeting people from all races and walks of life, making connections with family and friends of people she knew on the Surefoot, some of them matching her expectations, like the parents of Kit’s wacky girlfriend Hafsa. Others, however, proved surprising, such as the warm, charming persona of Professor Thykrill, the father of the dour Andorian Security cadet Atario.
She was sorry to hear that Jonas’ mother wouldn’t make it in time for the graduation, although he seemed too distracted to be depressed, to judge from the constant ion storm of Neraxis’ younger siblings, constantly pulling him this way or that. And judging from poor Rrori’s face, he had gone through the Seven Hells with his Matriarch and mother over withholding details of his bad record from them. He looked miserable. And Eydiir seemed distracted with something; she promised herself to talk it over with her later.
Then there were the Arringtons, the last people she found she would have warmed up to before today. But then Giles and his father reconciled, Commander Arrington had expressed his regrets at his behaviour with Sasha, and even the Ice Queen Lucille Arrington melted after Kami let the woman hold Misha, and the toddler purred against her neck.
Miracles do happen.
Occasionally she would run into her Dad and Kami, having left Misha with a babysitter for the night while they charmed the guests. They made a lovely couple.
Sasha was glad. And not. The latter because she knew that Sasha and they would soon part company. It was inevitable, she knew. That didn’t ease her melancholy.
Or her anxiety. She had completed her speech earlier this evening while getting ready for this party, but that didn’t mean she was satisfied with it. Reading it back in her head, it seemed… foreboding. Frightening, even. She detailed what she had seen out there, what she had done. She didn’t want to sugarcoat it for those who had yet to experience the grittier side of Starfleet. But she didn’t want them to scurry away like swamp rats in the light, either. Hopefully, she would find a balance between the two when the time came to speak.
On a screen behind the podium, a montage of images appeared, images taken of the cadets on campus and on the various AWE vessels. Every so often, she would recognise one of the images as someone from the Surefoot, and she would get nostalgic – oy vey, imagine getting nostalgic over something that she had been doing only weeks ago!
It was when a picture appeared of her Dad and herself, one she recognised from that planet where the Rising Star had crashed, that she heard someone in the crowd behind her meow, followed by laughter from others.
Sasha turned, seeing a collection of cadets gathered together, drinks in hand, surrounding a tall, thin human cadet with walnut-coloured skin, who was gesturing up at the screen now and making some pithy remark that his friends found amusing.
She strode up to him, thrusting out her hand. “Hi. Squad Leader Sasha Hrelle, Alpha Squad, USS Surefoot.”
“Yeah, we all know,” he noted with some condescending amusement, before grinning mirthlessly and extending his own hand. “Squad Leader Jack Carradine, Apollo Squad, USS Shrysia.”
Their handshake was mutually strong, lingering. Tightening. Challenging.
She nodded to the screen. “So… what’s funny?”
He let go, shrugging. “I don’t know. What is funny?”
Now she held out a hand towards the screen, though the image had since changed to another. “You were laughing when my father’s image was up there. And making a sound like a cat’s meow. It sounded like a joke.”
Carradine smirked. “Oh, I’m sure you were mistaken.” He gave his friends a ‘Do you believe her?’ look as he turned away, expecting Sasha to take the hint.
Instead she drew back into his line of sight. “You have a problem?”
Now annoyance crept into his voice. “Don’t you have another medal to collect? Some award? Another mention in the News? Or is it the turn of someone else on Captain Daddy’s ship to get the praise while the rest of us do the real work?”
“What?” Anger pushed aside the confusion she had been feeling. “Who stuck the bat’leth up your ass?” She tensed as she felt people moving up beside her, fearing she was being ganged upon on, but then relaxed as she glanced and saw it was Giles, Eydiir, and several others from her ship, drawn to the growing argument.
The addition of people on Sasha’s side triggered an identical closing in the ranks behind Carradine, whose own snarkiness was eclipsed by nastiness. “Why are you even bothering to play the innocent? You and the rest of the Surefoot Sensations go stroke each other off.”
“What in the Seven Hells are you talking about-”
“Oh come on, drop it, we all know what’s happening!” Others around Carradine chimed in with agreement. “It’s a nice little arrangement you have. Now go get Captain Daddy a saucer of milk.”
Rage boiled in her now. “You fakakta little shit-”
Then she felt Giles’ hand on her arm, as he urged, “Sash, walk away now. I trusted you before, now you trust me.”
On her other side, Eydiir added, “Yes. Ignore this garrulous rampallian.”
Carradine frowned at her. “What did you call me?”
“I have neither time nor patience to repeat myself with smaller words for your benefit.” She pushed Sasha away, she and Giles and several others leading her outside.
*
The Academy grounds were illuminated in bone white from the lights along the winding paths, and there was a slight taste of salt in the air. As she paced around like a caged animal, she watched as Giles and Eydiir were joined by the rest of her squad, and many members of the other squads from the Surefoot, drawn out like moths to a flame. “What the hell was all that about? The ‘Surefoot Sensations’?”
“Yeah,” Giles muttered. “I’ve heard other people say that among themselves – when they thought none of us were around to hear.”
“Are they jealous?” the Bajoran Squad Leader Naavos asked. “Because Sasha made Valedictorian?”
“That mountebank implied Captain Hrelle used his influence to advance her,” Eydiir sneered.
“It is more than that, I fear,” Falok noted, striding up to join the centre of the group, the Vulcan straightening up as he gained their attention. “Of the four Starfleet vessels participating in the AWE Program at Earth’s Starfleet Academy – the Surefoot, the Shrysia, the Revere and the Gavvl – our vessel has had the most… colourful history. Indeed, we are no longer even on the original Surefoot or mission.”
“Well, no!” Sasha agreed. “The original Surefoot was decommissioned due to shiprot! That wasn’t our fault!”
“Indeed not. But with the new ship, came a new mission, as a tender vessel, with Captain Hrelle performing additional duties as a Strategic Operations Officer for the Cardassian border. This is a much higher profile than the other ships, that have served as a tug, a repair ship and a transport, respectively. As a result, some cadets believe it was contrived by Captain Hrelle to give his daughter, and by default the rest of us onboard, a… I believe the phrase is ‘a shot at glory’. Hence the disparaging label of ‘Surefoot Sensations’.”
Sasha’s jaw dropped, unable to respond.
“That’s bullshit!” Neraxis exclaimed, her response echoed by others around her.
“Damn right it is!” Jonas agreed. “Sasha nearly died! She was almost blown up by a mine! Half of us have been shot, stunned, assaulted! Do they really think that was all a set-up to get medals and commendations?”
“To be fair, not all of our fellow cadets appear to share this notion,” Falok admitted. “Most correctly reject it as absurd. The belief appears to be held principally by the other cadets from the other vessels in the Program… and undoubtedly stems from envy at our apparent good fortune.”
“‘Good fortune?’” Sasha said weakly, tears welling up in her eyes as the emotion pushed at her insides, demanding release. “GOOD FORTUNE? My baby brother was crushed… some filthy Goddamn snake crushed my baby brother! They think- they-” She gritted her teeth and let loose a roar of rage and frustration, her arms shaking. She wanted to quit. She wanted to drop all of this crap and walk away. She didn’t want to associate with people who could think like that.
Giles drew in, holding her, murmuring, “It’s okay, Sash. It’ll be okay.”
She held him back, silently grateful for his presence, his support.
“I will not allow this to go unchallenged,” Eydiir declared darkly.
“I must concur,” Falok nodded, as others joined in. “Action must be taken.”
“So, we go in and kick their asses?” Neraxis suggested.
“I was thinking a protest to the Superintendent would be more apropos,” the Vulcan replied dryly.
“Agreed,” Rrori added. “And if our families protest as well-”
Sasha pulled back from Giles, wiping her face. “No- wait!” As the group stopped talking to look at her, she took a moment to look at all of them: Jonas, Kit, Rrori, Eydiir, Neraxis, Giles, Falok, Naavos, Yeager, Hafsa, Izzy, Praal, Beaudine, Ingalls, Thykrill, Soolamea, all the others. All she had grown to know, some very close, others not so. They would probably never be together again like this. But now, they were all still together, perhaps for the last time.
She remembered all the ordinary things they had done together: classes, meals, parties, study sessions. And she remembered the extraordinary things, too: rescuing the Malbruk II space station crew, assisting with the rescue of the Malurian refugee children, fighting the Ferasans, the Vlathi. She didn’t have the same feelings for all of them – some she was intimately close to, others annoyed her – but there was a bond between them all.
And she wanted to savour it as long as she could. She wiped her eyes and smiled as she regarded them. “No. They want to make themselves feel better by believing that crap? Well, I say let them. Anything we say won’t change them. It won’t change us, either. And I’m proud of us, and what we’ve done out there.” She grinned now as many made sounds of agreement. “And as far as I’m concerned, the only people whose opinion I give a shit about are standing right here.”
There was more agreement, as Giles nodded. “Like the old saying goes, ‘Haters gonna hate’.”
“Exactly! They can think what they like! It won’t make a difference to us! We’re Surefooted! They can’t knock us down so easily!”
The group whooped and cheered and clapped and punched the air.
Her grin felt like it would reach her ears, as she started to step backwards. “And to be honest, if this is the last night we’ll be all together, I don’t want to spend it arguing with a pack of mewling stroke-offs.” She slipped out of her cadet’s jacket. “I’d rather go for a Bellini. Who’s with me?”
Many cheered again and followed, Giles leading the way. Kit looked to Hafsa, who laughed and asked her boyfriend, “Well, are you up for running naked across the grounds, sweetie?”
The Qarari nodded. “I believe I can grin and... bare it!” He wheezed with laughter.
Giles rolled his eyes as they cackled and departed. “Oh dear God...” But then he followed them.
Rrori looked to Isabelle. “We could technically still get into trouble for this. I have been chewed up enough by my Matriarch and Mother.”
The English girl shrugged. “What more can they get off those pretty bones of yours?”
The Caitian started to reply, but then shrugged back and followed the rest.
Jonas slapped Neraxis on the rear. “Come on, Sexy, let’s get stripped!” He ran ahead of her.
The Bolian laughed. “Who are you, and what have you done with the real Jonas Ostrow?” But she pursued him.
Falok and Eydiir remained behind, the Capellan acknowledging. “I realise that this tomfoolery is not logical.”
But then he took her hand in his. “True. But if I have learned anything in my relationship with you, it is that there is more to life than logic.”
She raised her eyebrow in playful imitation of him. “Indeed.” Then they followed the others.
By the corner of the Hall, stepping out of the shadows, unnoticed but having heard the conversation, the Superintendent watched the cadets depart, before she returned inside.
*
“So, who’s up for a Bellini this year?” C’Rash invited the little group.
T’Varik cradled her glass. “Such activities are reserved for cadets, not responsible members of Starfleet. If you did not indulge at the time, I suggest it is too late now.”
“And what pray tell is this ‘Bellini’?” Mi’Tree asked, intrigued.
“The original Bellini was a Captain Martina Bellini,” Hrelle explained. “Who was famous for her part in the Tomed Incident in 2311 while commanding the USS Ajax. She was considered tough, no-nonsense, stern – when she was older. But decades before that, when Kirk was still gallivanting around and she was just a snotnosed cadet, she had a wilder reputation. And on the night before her graduation, she celebrated her imminent departure from this hallowed facility by streaking across the parade grounds.”
“‘Streaking’?”
“Running naked,” C’Rash elaborated, smirking. “Unlike Caitians, humans are more backward about public nudity, so it was considered scandalous. Other cadets joined her. The Superintendent at the time decided to ignore the breach of protocol on their last night and look the other way.”
“The story is apocryphal,” T’Varik pointed out. “There was no official record of the incident.”
“But it has become a tradition,” Hrelle confirmed. “For the more daring in any particular class who hear about it.”
“Did you do it, Uncle Esek?” C’Rash asked, smiling.
“Me? No! I was too shy. I used to have a weight problem back then.” He looked to his wife, who was snickering. “What?” As Will Arrington drew up, Hrelle smiled and asked, “How about you, Admiral? Did you do a Bellini before you graduated?”
The man made a nervous, distracted laugh as he glanced at the women. “I, ah… no. No. My father was the Superintendent at the time, after all.” He glanced down at the drink in his hand before continuing. “Can I say something, Captain?”
Hrelle smirked. “I don’t think you need my permission, Sir.”
Arrington smiled hesitantly. “Probably not, but…” He seemed to steel himself. “My family… and I… have treated you appallingly over the years, without any real justification. On these grounds when we were cadets, when you came back from the Bel-Zon, in the dealings with Lucille… You, on the other hand, have been gracious and forgiving. I was touched that you invited us to your table, that you helped patch things up with Giles and me.
I want to publicly apologise to you now. And I sincerely hope that you can find it in your heart to let us start anew.”
He held out his hand.
Hrelle stared at him, feeling bowled over by the request.
Then he offered his own hand. “There’s enough conflict in the Galaxy already without our adding to it.”
“Well done, gentlemen,” Goldstein remarked, smiling. “Now maybe we should send you out to solve the Dominion Crisis?” She turned to T’Varik. “Commander, may I have a private word with you?”
The Vulcan nodded and departed with the Superintendent, as Kami asked, “Admiral, perhaps you could sate my curiosity: I know all this started with your late father when he was Superintendent. But what did Esek do to earn his wrath?”
Arrington blanched. “He, ah… he thought your husband was too cocky.”
Hrelle blinked. “Cocky?”
The Admiral nodded. “Yes… he said you strutted about too much, like you owned the place. And then there were all the female cadets you were with… a different one each week...”
Kami smirked at her husband as she crossed her arms and. “Oh, really, Admiral? You must tell me more.”
Hrelle harrumphed and turned back to Arrington. “Admiral, what are Lucille’s plans now?”
Will looked glad to save the Captain from any potential embarrassment. “No one’s sure, not even Lucille, I think. She’s accepted that the Bel-Zon had a hand in her erratic behaviour… but she was never the most patient and serene individuals before that. She was cleared for a return to duty, but she’s talked of moving on. The Merchantfleet could always use an experienced command officer-”
“We could use one in Starfleet, too.” Hrelle admitted. “Especially in the coming months.”
“If you like, Admiral,” Kami offered. “And if she wants, of course, I’d be happy to have a casual talk with her. I might be able to help her make her choices clear, help her find her confidence again.”
Arrington brightened. “You would be willing to do that, Counselor? Give her an informal assessment?”
She smiled. “Actually, I’ve already started, Sir, when I let her take Misha in her arms, and watched her reaction with him – and his reaction to her.” She glanced at Hrelle. “And I’ve had some experience helping victims of the Bel-Zon.”
*
The grounds had been cut that day; the smell lingered in the air, kept lingering by the sprinkler units rising up from various points.
The Surefoot cadets stood at the edge, quickly stripping off, half of them collapsing from drink or nerves, leaning against each other and laughing.
Sasha among them, glancing at her friends. It was a declaration. It was defiance.
It was delightful.
“Hey.”
She turned to look at Giles, and smiled. “Hey yourself. You sure you should be doing this, being the youngest member of the Arrington Dynasty?”
He smirked. “Are you sure you want to be doing this, being Valedictorian and an example to others of the Best of the Best?”
She offered him her middle finger as she slipped out of the last of her clothes, just as the sprinklers started up, the droplets reflecting the white from the surrounding pathway lights. “Race you to the other side and back!”
The grass was wet and thick beneath her bare feet, the water a billion cold bullets striking every part of her. After a few metres, she acknowledged that running without a bra wasn’t fun, but didn’t stop, instead clasping her breasts down with one forearm while she raced down the field with everyone else, stopping at the end and racing back, still whooping and hollering.
They collapsed around their discarded clothes, laughing and chattering excitedly amongst themselves. Or, in the case of the couples, taking advantage of the nudity to reaffirm their mutual attraction.
Sasha watched, as much as she could without being intrusive, before lying on her back and staring up at the night sky – acknowledging how long it had been since she had sex. With someone else, anyway.
She looked over at Giles, who had, intentionally or not, landed beside her, gasping for air. He looked as fit now as when she last saw him naked.
Giles. It had been almost like a star-crossed Romeo and Juliet thing, with their feuding families, and their mutual dislike melting into a respect, and then an attraction… she didn’t regret breaking them up. They weren’t like Jonas and Neraxis, in different fields; Giles and she both had plans for commanding starships, and neither would be satisfied for long being on the same ship with the other in charge.
But they did work, and played, well together… She smiled and rolled over to lie on her side, facing him. “Hey… wanna come back to my quarters?”
He was laughing… but sobered quickly when he realised she was being serious. “What, really?”
She nodded, then reassured him, “I’m not drunk, I’m not emotionally vulnerable, and I don’t want to be a couple again. But I am horny. And if you’re feeling the same, come over to mine. Soon.” She glanced over her shoulder once, and then back at him. “But don’t let the others know, or they’ll never let us live it down.”
She turned around again and reached for her clothes, hoping she wouldn’t regret making her offer.
*
Two hours later, lying in bed, a warm wonderful glow rushing through her, Sasha decided she didn’t.
“Ms Hrelle?”
She stirred, pulling the rest of the bedsheets up over her, silently daring Giles to fight her for them-
“Ms Hrelle, would you wake up, please? We need to talk.”
She opened her eyes to the darkness, hearing the male voice, but not recognising it. She bolted upright, pulling the bedsheets up under her arms, seeing the silhouette sitting in the chair near her bed. “Computer: Lights!”
They obeyed, making her blink as she fixed on the elderly, pale-skinned human. He had receding snowy hair, a broad nose centred around a wrinkled, hangdog face, icy-blue eyes... and a Starfleet uniform with Admiral's insignia. He sat there casually, as if it was the most ordinary thing, speaking with an educated British accent. “Good evening. Forgive the intrusion at this late hour, and the lack of prior introduction, but one in my position must always be discreet.”
Sasha's heart raced, and she glanced around carefully. Where was Giles?
“If you're looking for Mr Arrington,” he advised, “He left some minutes ago, presumably not wanting to wake you. Have no fear, he remained unaware of my arrival.”
“Oh. Well, Admiral, if you're here for a sleepover, I have to warn you, I haven't trimmed my toenails. Giles probably hobbled out of here on bloody feet.”
He laughed softly. “You have a sense of humour; I appreciate that. It indicates a proclivity to cope with the unexpected, a most useful ability in my line of work.”
“Which is what, breaking into female cadets' quarters in the middle of the night?”
“No, commanding Starfleet Intelligence... among other duties.”
She started, tightening the bedsheets around her. “You’re... Admiral Trenagen.”
“At your service. And the Federation’s of course.” He put on a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I wasn’t aware that you had resumed your prior relationship with Master Arrington. Does his father know? For that matter, does your father?”
She grunted, knowing Trenagen by reputation alone, and by the less-than-complimentary things her Dad had said about him. His presence, and his questions, were obviously meant to put her off-guard, to test her ability to, as he put it, ‘cope with the unexpected’. “Is my sex life of interest to Starfleet Intelligence, or just you?”
“Neither. I am here to discuss you, not your romantic activities. You came to my attention following your participation in the Son’a Incident, and further research into your background and history has only impressed me more. You are a young woman of many gifts: strength, intelligence, adaptability, resourcefulness, leadership, and a fierce passion to protect others.
But just as important as your gifts, is your attitude. You have endured more in your few short years than most will ever face in a lifetime. You understand well how precarious life, and our way of life, is.” He raised into view a PADD; she saw the scuff marks on it, and recognised it as her own. “Your Valedictorian speech sums it up succinctly: ‘The greatest threats you’ll face will not come from the Dominion, the Klingons, or the Romulans, not from criminal or terrorist organisations or natural phenomena, but from your own reluctance to do whatever is necessary to protect us.’” He set aside the PADD.
Sasha gave up, unwilling to indulge the man any longer. “With respect, Sir, it’s late, and I was told you were a man who preferred to get to the point.”
He smiled politely. “Indeed. Immediately following your graduation, you will be proceeding to Vulcan for an intensive three-month course in Advanced Command Training. It is certainly a prestigious start to your career in Starfleet, one undoubtedly and deservedly leading to a Captain’s Chair. But you can do better, far better. With my help.”
“Uh, thank you, Admiral, but I’m not really interested in a career in Starfleet Intelligence-”
“And I’m not interested in offering you one. SI is vital, of course. But it has its limits. And there are other means of protecting the Federation. Organisations where gifted, committed individuals such as yourself recognise that ours is a Universe teeming with dangers. And, like you, they are prepared to do whatever is necessary to protect us-”
“Are you talking about Section 31, Sir?”
“You’ve heard of it? From your father?”
“I... can neither confirm nor deny that.” In fact, she had heard rumours from a number of sources, including her Dad. She assumed that it was just a modern legend, like interphasic gremlins and the Douwd.
Trenagen chuckled. “If such an organisation existed, your father might have been offered a position with it. He’s very talented.”
She stared at him. “But he would have turned something like that down. It would have gone against his principles.”
Trenagen nodded sagely. “Indeed. It is understandable… but it is also, if I may say, selfish. What good are principles if you’re not around to indulge in them, because you allowed hostile forces to overwhelm everyone and everything around you? The Needs of the Many, after all...”
He rose. “I must ask you in the strongest possible terms to tell no one of my presence here, or of what we have discussed. Should you be willing to put the Federation’s interests over your own, contact my offices and request a visit; I will know what it means.”
Then he vanished, without benefit of the usual transporter energy column.
*
Jonas made smacking sounds with his mouth as he pulled himself slowly, lazily, from sleep, smiling as he felt Neraxis spooning up against his back, her arm draped around his waist, her hot breath against his neck, the snickering at the side of the bed-
He opened his eyes. Alazea, Ishiwas and some of the younger Nemm siblings were in the room, Alazea carefully lifting up the bedsheets on Jonas’ side to peer underneath. He cleared his throat.
The ones in the back jumped and ran back into the next room, but Alazea continued to stare back, smiling… and still tried lifting up the bedsheets.
Neraxis lifted up her head groggily over Jonas’ shoulder and glowered. “Lazy! What are you doing?”
Alazea looked back at her big sister now, asking, “Is his wee-wee pink too?”
Jonas turned to Neraxis pleadingly.
She sat up, the bedsheets falling from her as she pointed to the door. “Go!”
Alazea dropped her hold on the bedsheets, but pointed back at Neraxis’ chest as she scurried off, cackling, “BOOBIES!”
Jonas lay back again, staring up at the ceiling… and laughed.
Neraxis leaned over him and smiled. “Sorry. She was always bold. I don’t know where she gets it from. I’ll tell Mama-”
He reached up, stroking the back of her head. “I love her. I love them all. And your Mom. And you.”
“Me, last?” she teased.
“I saved the best for last.” He drew her down for a kiss, their mouths grinding.
A nearby knock parted them again, as Mrs Nemm peered around the corner and looked down at the couple in bed, smiling. “Sorry, sweeties, but since you two are the stars today, I thought you might want to use the bathroom first.” She grinned. “You can even shower together.”
From the adjacent rooms, several siblings made an Ooooohhhh sound at that suggestion, punctuated with Alazea declaring, “NAUGHTIES!”.
*
The buzzer to her door drew Sasha out of a fitful sleep. She bolted upright, not quite sure where she was, the events of the night before rushing back to the forefront like puppies to the dinner bowl. The arguments, the Bellini, Giles- Trenagen! She wasn’t sure that last had even happened – until she saw her PADD sitting on the table, where he had placed it.
Her room buzzer caught her attention again, and she grabbed a T-shirt and boxers, slipped into them and moved to the door, surprised to find- “Grandma?”
Ma’Sala was clad in her red and black uniform of the Caitian Planetary Navy, and smiled. “Good morning, Grandcub. I know it’s early, but I figured you’d need time to get ready and deal with those nerves.” She entered, hugging the young woman as she went by. “I can hear your father bouncing around in his quarters next to mine already this morning, reordering larger-size jackets from-” She stopped, turned in place and sniffed the air.
Sasha tensed. “Something wrong?”
“There was a man in here last night.” She looked to her. “Something you want to tell me?”
She swallowed, feeling her face burn. “Uh- I can’t- I’m not allowed-”
“Don’t be silly. I recognised Admiral Arrington’s son’s scent easily.” She chuckled. “Hopefully he helped with some of those nerves.”
Sasha laughed, as much with relief as with embarrassment at the Caitian’s typical candour. “Uh, yeah, I guess.”
Ma’Sala nodded, and drew closer again, hugging the girl once more. “You know, if someone told me a few years ago that I would not only have a human grandcub, but one who could make me so proud… Life throws us such surprises from time to time.”
“Tell me about it,” Sasha agreed, relishing the warmth, the strength and the scent from the older female. The familial connection was strong, though she knew in some cases, that could hurt. “Do you think Rrori’s Matriarch and mother will forgive him?”
“Eventually. Even a descendant of one of the Mighty Twenty Landers to the Motherworld will succumb to the charms of that cub.”
“I wish I could say something.”
“You can if you want. You have the right.” Ma’Sala drew back to look at her. “You have been his Squad Leader for some years now. You can be seen as his Shrinna, his unofficial Older Sister. You can vouch for him. I’m sure he could use someone in his corner right now.”
Sasha smiled, liking that idea. “Thanks, I’ll do that this morning.”
Ma’Sala smiled back. “At this time, Matriarchs offer cubs about to reach a life milestone like this some advice. And here’s mine: whatever you do with your life, stand in the light. Not the shadows. Make sure it’s something you can be proud and open about.”
Sasha nodded at that, not quite sure what to make of it, but appreciating it.
Then the Fleet Captain nodded to the bathroom. “Get showered, while I prepare your uniform.”
Sasha smiled and nodded again, turning and departing.
And never seeing the smile drop from Ma’Sala’s face, as she sniffed the air again, her claws extending reflexively with recognition, and a growl smouldering in her throat.
Part 4 of 5: Memento Mori
Part 4 of 5: Memento Mori
Grandmama knows, mofo...
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