The Academy Grounds were crowded, with hundreds of cadets, Academy personnel and civilians milling about in groups large and small, squinting in the bright morning light as reunions were made, images and videos were taken, and people were thanked.
Or in the case of Misha and Alazea, who were rushing around the many groups, chasing each other or some of the older children, scolded. Jonas and Neraxis stood together, sometimes accompanied by Neraxis’ mother or some of the older siblings, for the images – but Jonas turned his head and barked, “Alazea! Leave those people alone! They don’t want you in their pictures!”
The little girl stopped running, nodded solemnly and replied, “Yes, Jonas!” Then she raced off in another direction after Misha.
Beside him, Neraxis nudged him. “Wow, you got her listening to you!”
He shrugged, smiling. “I’m novel. She’ll get used to me soon and stop paying attention like she does the rest of you.”
“Any room for me in there?” a new female voice asked from behind.
Jonas started, turning around, his eyes wide and his jaw dropping. “Mom?”
A tall, sturdy woman with hair as silver as Jonas’, a pixie nose and a square jaw flanked with softer cheeks, strode up confidently alongside T’Varik, but then raced up the last few metres and swept her son up into her arms. “Oh, Jonas! I’m so glad I could get here in time!”
He was overwhelmed with shock, laughing almost hysterically. “Y-You’re here! I- I can’t believe it- H-How-” Then he looked over at T’Varik. “Commander?”
The Vulcan folded her hands behind her back. “After you informed me of the problems with your mother’s vessel, I made some calls to the Transport Authority. Forgive my lack of communication on the matter, but I could not guarantee success, and did not wish to raise false hopes within you.”
Tears ran down his face unabated as he kept hugging his mother... but silently mouthing to T’Varik: Thank you!
T’Varik nodded politely, turned and departed.
*
In another part of the field, Rrori breathed in, subdued in the presence of his Matriarch and mother, who took a few images of him, and spoke politely if briefly with those associates of his who approached.
Then Sasha arrived, like Rrori and the others in dress uniform, and addressed the females. “Good morning. May I speak with you in Meow’s defence?”
The Matriarch looked to her daughter, and in Old Caitian muttered, “Send the Tailless Ape away.”
“The Tailless Ape speaks the language,” Sasha informed her, relishing the reaction on the older female, before continuing in Standard. “The Tailless Ape is also a Caitian citizen, in the Clan Registry, was awarded the Order of R’Masi last year… and also holds a Sixth Tier in K’Gressir, by the way, should you wish to continue to insult the Grandcub of Ma’Sala Shall. May I now speak in his defence?”
Mriri regarded the human, before nodding, “Proceed.”
Sasha breathed in and announced, “Madame… Meow Rrori is the most vain, arrogant, self-centred, egotistical male I have ever encountered in my life.”
Rrori blinked. “This is your defence of me?”
Sasha ignored him. “When he is not fixed to the nearest mirror admiring himself, he is strutting about the ship inviting others to admire him. And that’s not even taking into account his libido. He will hump anything with a pulse… and a few things without one, and I stopped counting the nights he has awakened the rest of Alpha Squad with making his bed shake from constantly stroking off.”
“Seriously,” Rrori assured her, “You don’t have to do this.”
“But I learned that there’s more to him than that,” Sasha continued, smiling. “I learned how brave he was. How talented. How caring. He loves his clan, and after the business with the Rising Star, he was ashamed, not just because of his actions, but because of how let down you would have been with him.”
“He was right,” his mother agreed.
Sasha nodded. “The first night he arrived onboard the Surefoot, I told him that he was brilliant – but reminded him that he was now among others who were also brilliant. He had to adjust. It wasn’t easy for him, I know. Especially with all the pressure his clan were putting on him to be the Best of the Best.”
Mriri harrumphed. “You are blaming us now for his concealment?”
“No, Madame, with respect, I am reminding you of the Great Mother’s own words: ‘Our love for our cubs can be perfect. Our cubs cannot’. And I am informing you that I am Caitian and respect your – our people’s – beliefs and strengths. I have acted as his Shrinna, his Older Sister, in your absence. I claim this responsibility. This honour.” She strode up to Rrori now, clasping him by the shoulders. “You are my brother now. I am proud of you, and I will always be proud to serve with you in the future.”
Rrori swelled, and swallowed as she hugged him.
Then she pulled back and smacked him on the snout.
He cursed. “What was that for?”
She pointed a finger at him. “That was for embarrassing your clan in public! Do it again and they’ll have to clone you a new pair of balls! Understood?”
“Yes, Ma’am!” he exclaimed.
The Matriarch looked to her daughter and remarked, “I’m beginning to like her.”
*
Elsewhere, Eydiir stood back and observed as Kit laughed with Hafsa and her parents, before noticing his squadmate, making his excuses and approaching the Capellan. “Best Friend Eydiir, it is very good to see you! Truly!” He hugged her.
She hugged him back. “Forgive my interruption-”
“No!” He glanced back at his girlfriend and her family, and confessed in a low voice, “I am exhausted! Exhausted from all the jokes! They tell jokes all the time! I cannot take any more!”
She grunted dryly. “So there is a limit to your hunger for puns. The others will be pleased to hear of this; they assumed your capacity was inexhaustible.”
*
Giles caught a glimpse of Hrelle as the Captain moved along a row of parents of cadets, and smiled for his attention. The Caitian strode up, holding out a hand. “Good morning, Ensign Arrington.”
Giles accepted it. “Good morning to you too, Sir. I’m glad I saw you before the ceremony. There’s so much I want to thank you for.”
He smiled back. “Me? What did I do?”
Giles straightened up. “From the first day we met, and you made me sit on the Naughty Step rather than face expulsion for insulting you, you were out to help me. To make me a better man. You did.”
Hrelle shrugged. “You made yourself what you are now. And I’m glad you patched things up with your father. Have you changed your mind about that border ship posting?”
The young man hesitated. “I’m… not sure. Dad has a position on offer at Starfleet HQ, working with a team looking at improving border ship and crew capabilities.”
Hrelle nodded. “Sounds good; you’ve been out there, worked with them, spoken with the crews. You know what they need, what works and doesn’t work, better than most of the higher ranks stationed here. You’ll be very valuable.”
“Yes. But… But won’t it look like I’m just giving in to my family’s wishes?”
Now Hrelle smiled. “Whether you go to the border, or help those on the border here, you’re doing it because it’s the right thing and you want to do it, and it doesn’t matter what other people think.” He glanced around. “After all, you didn’t care what I thought when you defiled my daughter on that shuttle run all those years ago, did you?” He sniffed. “Or last night, for that matter?”
Giles paused, gauging how serious the Caitian was being. After all this time, he still wasn’t entirely sure.
*
The ceremony soon commenced, with the cadets in the front rows and the guests in the outlying sections, all rising for the Federation anthem, before the Superintendent stepped forward on the raised podium, looking out at the crowd, her voice carrying from the tiny microphone pinned to her uniform. “I had a pretty good speech written in advance. I was quite proud of it, actually; it would have knocked your socks off. But I overheard something last night that made me rethink all that.
So I put my speech aside to knock the socks off of the Class of 2373. And instead, I’m going to ask you, the Class of 2372, to ask yourselves something: why are you in Starfleet?”
As a murmur ran through the crowd, in the front row, Sasha glanced at Giles, her fellow Squad Leaders and cadets, and then at her Dad and the other officers standing at attention to the side, who looked equally bemused.
“It is a question I hope you have genuinely asked yourselves,” Goldstein continued. “I know it would have been asked of you many times, before you were even accepted. And I know that you would have given the appropriate answers, otherwise you wouldn’t have made it as far as you have. But that doesn’t mean the answers were honest, or that they haven’t changed with time.
The answers you can give will be as numerous as the worlds you will have come from. You wish to do service for the Federation that has given you so much. You wish to be all that you can be. You wish to expand the boundaries of science, of medicine and exploration. You wish to follow in the footsteps of family, or others who have inspired you. You wish to defend our way of life.
There are other reasons, of course. You may wish for fame, for glory and acclaim. You may wish to get medals. You may wish to get your names in the media, to be heroes. You may even wish to become a legend, like so many others who have been here, and be honoured so.” She indicated the surrounding buildings. “This was the first of the Starfleet Academies, and considered the most prestigious. Just about every building, every garden, every field and walkway is named after a renowned graduate here: Archer, Sulu, Grelev, Kirk, Nguyen, Pike, Sortek, Nielsen, Sylhaon… you may wish for something like that to be awarded to you, too.
These wishes are understandable. But if they are the only things that drive you to put on that uniform every day and go out there… do yourself a favour and reconsider. Those aforementioned names, those so-called heroes, had one thing in common: they didn’t do what they did for fame, for glory or for acclaim. They certainly didn’t do it for the medals, or the honour of having a building or a fountain at the Academy named after them – most would have cringed with embarrassment at the very thought of something like that – but instead, they did what they did because it was their job.
The plain fact is that most of you will go on to perform duties that will never get medals or commendations or even acknowledgements. That does not mean they are not vital. That does not mean you are not vital. You are. Each and every one of you.”
As she spoke these last words, a varied group of people in civilian clothes, of many different races and sizes and ages, were escorted towards the podium, as Goldstein continued. “If my words today have meant you need new reasons for putting on those uniforms every day, I would like you to listen to a few people I managed to gather at short notice to come here today. Just some of the innumerable people that are out there now. Real, ordinary people whose lives have been touched by Starfleet, and who now wish to offer their thanks, to them. And to you.”
Goldstein stepped aside, adjusting a microphone on a stand to accommodate the first civilian, a thin, elderly human male, who looked out at the crowd. “My name is Vihan Giragosian, of Earth. 61 years ago, I was a child with my family on a transport ship, the Mountbatten, journeying to start a new life on Tomed when the Romulans began their offensive. We thought we were doomed. Then Starfleet arrived and saved me, saved my family. We lived. On behalf of myself, my family, and all those who have been born and lived since then: thank you.”
A middle-aged Trill female was next. “My name is Yidzul Ruun. When I was a child, I was stricken with Benzite Cytofibrosis. It was a slow, lingering, painful disease. My parents did their best to hide the truth from me, but I knew I would never see adulthood.” She smiled. “But then a Starfleet doctor on a planetary survey ship made a connection between another disease and mine, and suggested a treatment for both. A treatment that was successful. On behalf of my husband, my children, the life that I have had since because of the actions of that member of Starfleet: thank you.”
And others followed.
“My name is Wandalan Lawes. I live on Meradas III. An ancient robot from a dead civilisation had somehow activated, and threatened to destroy my planet. The crew of the USS Ignis gave their lives to stop that machine. On behalf of myself, my family, and everyone on my planet: thank you.”
“My name is Professor Togtun Ezah. I am a stellar physicist who has spent most of my life looking for a way to extend the lifespans of stars that nurture inhabited worlds. I was stuck for the longest time… until Starfleet assisted me, provided ships and equipment and expertise. Their tireless efforts helped move me that much closer to finding what I seek. I could not have done it without them. On behalf of myself, and all those who will one day benefit from this work: thank you.”
“My name is Barinot Chan-”
“-when our colony was attacked-”
“The team found the survivors and ferried them from the disaster zone-”
“The infection had gripped our world-”
“A Starfleet vessel swooped in-”
“-on behalf of our city: thank you.”
“Thank you!”
“Thank you.”
The last speaker was the shortest: a hairless, grey-scaled humanoid in a hooded top that seemed worn to protect from the mid-morning sunlight. It seemed frail, or perhaps just nervous, as Goldstein adjusted the microphone stand to accommodate their height. It spoke with a voice that Universal translator extricated as typically female. “My name is Malala Jain. I am Malurian. I am fourteen. Two years ago, I lived on an asteroid with my people, isolated from the rest of the Galaxy. Then people came, and took us... all the children... away with them.”
Sasha gasped, her jaw dropping as she glanced at Giles and the rest of Alpha Squad, seeing in their expressions their own recognition: the Malurian children they found on the freighter Beholder two years ago...
“They locked us away in a container,” Malala continued, though it was obvious that the memory of that time was still painful to her. “Where we were kept cold and hungry and sick. They told us that we would work in mines for them, that we would never see our families again. We believed them.
But then members of Starfleet – cadets who are standing among you right now – discovered us, and risked their lives to save us.” She nodded, milky-white tears running down her sallow face. “And they did save us. And they got us back to our families, just as they promised. And more; they reunited our people with more like us, found us a new world to call our own. To be safe, and free, and happy. Like all people should be.
I thank those who saved us. And I thank all of the rest of you, for risking your lives to join Starfleet, and whom I know would be willing to do the same for us, and for others who need help. Someday I hope to be among you, to pay forward all the good that has been done, for me. For all of us.”
Sasha couldn’t stop wiping the tears from her own face, as she watched Goldstein approach the Malurian girl, hugging her before sending her to join her guardians. The Superintendent looked teary-eyed herself, as the sky above darkened. “Well, that’s a tough act to follow… but we do have to try. The rest of the ceremony today will...”
Her words trailed away as she looked up at the quickly-darkening sky.
At the sidelines, Misha was standing beside his mother, clad in a miniature replica of a Starfleet uniform, not having stopped talking about it since his encounter with Boothby. But now he held up his hands, watching the hairs stand on end. “Mama, look!” Then he sniffed. “Air smells furry!”
Hrelle and Kami felt the same, glancing at each other before he walked up onto the dais, watching Goldstein turn her back to the audience to tap her combadge. “Ops! Come in! What the hell’s going on? I booked this for a sunny day months ago! Ops! Security!” She looked to Hrelle. “What’s happened to our comm systems?”
Hrelle was watching as a sky that had been clear just moments before was now thickly packed with angry clouds that fought and swirled, the latter in a way that took him back to his days as a cub, on his father’s fishing boat watching as waterspouts dipped down onto the waters, like the tongues of demons. Now he tried his own combadge, knowing it wasn’t on the same network as the Academy staff. “Hrelle to Surefoot. Are you reading us?”
Neheru’s voice picked up over the rising wind. “Yes, Captain! We’re detecting a Category 1 storm- no, wait, now it’s Category 2! Starfleet Security is reporting Earth’s Weather Modification Net has been compromised, as have the power and communications grids in the San Francisco Bay Area!”
Hrelle and Goldstein exchanged glances, before Hrelle asked, “Can you start beaming people to a safe area?”
“Negative, Sir! The storm contains unprecedented amounts of ionic interference that would make transport unsafe!”
Hrelle grunted; so much for it being an innocent malfunction. “And there’s no other reports elsewhere on Earth? No attacks?”
“No, Sir!”
“Contact Starfleet Security, offer any assistance if required, but otherwise stay in geosynchronous orbit, and if our cadets and crew have communications, we’ll need you switchboarding it. Hrelle out.” He looked at Goldstein again. “Sabotage, like the Antwerp bombing and the Jiaozhou Bay Bridge collapse. We have to get everyone indoors! The Main Hall is large and secure enough!”
The Superintendent nodded, stepping forward to face the audience again. “Everyone-” She stopped as she realised the microphone had lost power too, and shouted now, “Everyone, move to the Hall! Stay calm!”
Hrelle stepped forward, signalling to Sasha. “Our own combadges still work! Coordinate efforts to get everyone inside!”
In the front row, Sasha signalled her acknowledgement and turned to her fellow squad leaders. “Giles, Falok, herd the left section inside, watch for stragglers! Naavos, Izzy, the right section! Alpha Squad, you’re with me! We’ve got the VIPs on the dais!” As the wind whipped her hair, she added, “Watch out for flying debris!”
On the dais, Hrelle watched Sasha’s squad lead most of the VIPs away, while he was guiding Goldstein, motioning for Arrington to do the same with Trenagen. Arrington called over to him, “We need to get to Campus Ops-”
Hrelle’s eardrums protested at the pressure changes- and then he cursed inside as he looked up and saw the vortices forming in the clouds. “Not out here, Will! Come on!”
They made their way with the others, Hrelle stopping at the door into the Hall and letting Goldstein make the rest of the way inside herself as he turned back to face the field. The air was in a frenzy now, with chairs tumbling and even whipping up into the air to shatter against the sides of buildings, and trees that had stood on these grounds for centuries without complaint now shuddered as their leaves were stripped from their branches-
A noise caught his attention, and he turned to see two of his cadets, Zajan and Beaumont, trying to escort a civilian to the Hall, staying close to the wall- it was Mi’Tree! They were struggling, with the Caitian’s bulk, and with an obvious injury to the male’s ankle, and Hrelle raced ahead to help, signalling the smaller of the two, the Suliban Zajan, to get inside, while he took his place, slipping an arm around his kin-father, stopping only when a chair struck the wall in front of them.
Finally they entered the Hall’s anteroom, as other cadets slid the door shut with the manual overrides. It was dark here, the air thick and hot, and Hrelle looked to see Sasha draw up, smiling. “You found Grandpa!” She reached out to him, patting him on the shoulder. “Grandma’s been worried sick about you, you old cat-”
Mi’Tree turned and bared his teeth at her, growling.
Sasha drew back in shock, as Hrelle tensed, instinctively stepping between his daughter and kin-father. “Mother’s Cubs, Mi’Tree, what do you think you’re doing-”
The older Caitian glared at each of them in turn. “Leave me alone! Why can’t you all just bloody well leave me ALONE?”
Then as he hobbled away into the main room, Sasha looking to Hrelle, confused. “Dad? What’s wrong? What did I say?”
He patted her shoulder. “Nothing, hon. His pride was hurt along with his ankle.” He returned to the business at hand. “Someone’s sabotaged the weather, power and communications in the area, but fortunately it seems confined to us.” He nodded towards the hall. “The civilians will be in shock, scared, wanting answers-”
She nodded back. “Jonas had an idea about restoring power to the building, he’s working on it now. We’re also getting food and blankets, and a few other things. May I continue, Sir?”
“Carry on.”
She looked to Zajan and Beaumont, still at the door. “Keep an eye out, if you see anyone in trouble out there-”
He nodded. “We’ll go out for them.”
“You will NOT! You will call me first, and I’ll go out! Understood?”
“Yes, Ma’am!”
Then she was off.
Despite the ongoing calamity and the nasty business with Mi’Tree, Hrelle couldn’t stop his tail wagging with pride as he entered the main hall. It was packed, most of the people wisely staying away from the flanking high, narrow windows, though some ventured closer to view the storm outside. Confused, anxious voices were raised, and the air was thick with the same emotion.
He found Kami, Misha and Ma’Sala together, the Matriarch going up to him and asking, “Have you seen Mi’Tree?”
He nodded. “He twisted his ankle, we brought him in. Then he bared his teeth at Sasha.”
Her face went taut. “He did what?”
“She made a little joke about him being old, he took it badly.”
She nodded. “I’ll speak with him. Any word on what’s happening?”
“A localised incident; if it’s like the others that have happened on Earth, Vulcan and the other central worlds, it’ll be from Dominion saboteurs. I have to report in.”
She nodded again, her hand patting his shoulder as he approached his wife and cub, Misha sitting in his mother’s arms, staring out at the lightning with wide-eyed wonder. “Papa! Fizzers!”
“No, Warrior Prince, not phasers.” He rubbed the toddler’s muzzle, before doing the same with Kami. “You two okay?”
“Yes. Now get going, they need you. They’re senior officers and fellow starship captains, but like these civilians none of them will have your practical experience with disaster.”
“Sounds like you’re needed, too.”
“Yes.” She looked to Misha. “Let’s go find the other cubs, eh? They might be scared and need our help.”
“Eye Eye, Mama!”
Hrelle found Goldstein, Arrington and the other senior officers together. “It’s another attack, but fortunately appears to be the only one.”
“This would be in keeping with the prior reported attacks,” T’Varik noted. “Control should be restored shortly.”
Lt C’Rash Shall stepped up. “Excuse me, Ma’am, but there are emergency tunnels running under the campus grounds, leading to all the major buildings; they were built after the Xindi Incident, kept sealed up but I understand they’re still usable.”
“We can lead the civilians away,” Will Arrington suggested.
Hrelle shook his head. “To where? Public transport’s shut down out there. This is the largest, safest, most secure facility for them for now.”
“Agreed,” Goldstein looked to Trenagen and Arrington. “You could use them, though, to get to Campus Ops, see if you can coordinate efforts there.” To C’Rash she asked, “Can you guide them?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“You’re not coming with us?” Arrington asked.
“My place is here, with the cadets and their families.” Suddenly the lights above came to life. “We’re back online!” She tapped her combadge. “Ops! Security! Come in!”
Hrelle glanced outside, seeing the nearby buildings still cloaked in darkness. “No, it’s just us. Sasha said her people were working on getting us power-”
As if on cue, Sasha strode up, stood to attention and faced Goldstein, the ranking officer. “Ma’am, Ensign Sasha Hrelle reporting: Our CMO Doctor Masterson is leading the Medical and Science cadets in checking everyone for injuries; they’ve reported only minor scrapes, and shock. And as you can see, we’ve restored lighting and environmental controls to the Hall.”
Goldstein fixed on her. “And how did you manage that?”
“The Utilities Building is next door, Ma’am; we used the tunnels to gain access, and we hooked up the fusion batteries from the lawn mowers stored there.”
“You managed this without tools?” T’Varik asked.
“We didn’t need tools, Commander. We have a Jonas.”
The Vulcan nodded in understanding.
Sasha looked back at Goldstein. “Ma’am, we’ve also taken the liberty of commandeering the blankets and towels there waiting to be recycled, and the food that was being stored there for the buffet later. And since the toilet facilities here aren’t equipped to manage this many people, we’re guiding the more able-bodied down there to use those in the Utilities.”
“The tunnels are extensive down there, Ensign,” C’Rash pointed out. “If the civilians start wandering-”
“No one’s wandering down there, Lieutenant; I have the Security cadets posted to keep them in line.” She looked at Goldstein. “Ma’am, with your permission we’re prepared to recalibrate your combadges to operate with the Surefoot systems, to relay messages to and from wherever required. The campus facilities are still off-power, but we have cadets on standby ready to use the tunnels to go wherever you want to deliver more of our own combadges there-”
Goldstein held up a hand. “Thank you, Ensign, but Lt Shall will be escorting Admirals Arrington and Trenagen to Ops via the tunnels now, and she can act as our communications link there with her own badge. But it was a good idea, Ensign. Keep them coming.”
“Thank you, Ma’am. May I return to work now?”
Goldstein nodded, indulging in a smile as the young woman turned and departed.
Hrelle just indulged in a broad proud grin.
“What a capable young woman,” Trenagen noted, as he followed C’Rash and Arrington away.
Hrelle gave him a look, feelings his hackles rise.
*
Ma’Sala found Mi’Tree sitting alone in a far corner of the Hall. She strode up, keeping her voice low as she glared at him. “If any other male bared their teeth to our grandcub, I’d knock those teeth down his throat. Give me a good reason not to do the same to you.”
He never looked up, his voice leaden. “I have none. I have no excuse for what I did. I am a contemptible wretch.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “You’re certainly a self-pitying one; I suppose I should have realised a rutting wouldn’t have fully shaken the maudlin funk from your bones. You should have been one of the first ones in here. Why were you one of the last?”
He breathed out. “I wanted to help. I wanted to be useful. Like I was on the Surefoot, when those hideous Vlathi attacked us.” He nodded to himself. “I was useful then, wasn’t I?”
“More than useful; you were vital. You fought very well, especially for someone whose only prior combat experience involved pushy media journalists and drunken prettytails. But that was a different situation: most of our kin-son’s crew were trapped, and there was no choice. What you did today wasn’t out of necessity, but an attempt to bolster your pride.”
“I know.” Tears streamed down the sides of his muzzle. “Sasha and Esek will never forgive me.”
“Of course they will, ass.” Ma’Sala lowered her arms and relaxed her stance. “As will I.” She held out a hand. “Come with me.”
He looked up, wiping his snout. “Why? Do you intend to kill me in private?”
“Not today. Do you still want to help? Do you still want to be useful? Come with me, and let me show you how.”
Slowly he rose, took her hand and limped beside her, as she guided him through the crowds to another corner of the Hall, where most of the younger children of the guests, including the Nemm family, sat in a circle facing Kami. Misha sat on her lap, as she pointed to the parts of his face. “And a Caitian’s nose is very, very sensitive; a cub Misha’s age could find his mother and father even across several kilometres. The sense of smell is very important to our people; we hug so that we can take in each other’s scent...”
“What can I do here?” Mi’Tree muttered.
“You can take over and entertain the cubs while our daughter Counsels their parents.”
He ground his teeth. “This again? I’m not going to be the bloody Taleteller, not here or on the Motherworld. I’m an action star.”
She shook her head. “You were an action star. And no one will ever take that away from you. This is a new role, with new responsibilities, and a new audience who need distraction and reassurance. You have undeniable charisma, and your voice is soothing and expressive. Kami used to love your bedtime stories, much more than when I told them.”
He grunted.
“Do not dismiss the power and responsibility given here, Mi’Tree. Taletellers have influenced more lives than politicians or warriors. They don’t just tell stories, they give advice and counsel, they comfort and reassure. They are a certainty in an uncertain life.”
He grunted again.
“Of course, I don’t blame you,” she admitted. “Who’d want the Taleteller gig anyway? There’s half a billion cubs on the Motherworld and our colonies who watch it regularly, cubs too young to see your Clawback vivids. You’d be constantly hounded wherever you go, fans messaging you, asking for autographs, interviews, clips of your fur… all that attention-”
He shook off her hand. “Get out of my way, woman.” He smiled broadly as he stepped forward. “Hello, cubs! And how are you all doing today?”
*
“Yes, Ensign,” Neheru was reported. “Power and communications are still out, but they’ve re-established control over the Weathernet, though it’ll take a little more time to restore a normal weather pattern in your area.”
“Thanks, Lieutenant! Hrelle out!” Sasha turned to the other squad leaders. “We’ll need to get ready to head out and search the campus for injured, people who didn’t make it inside in time when the storm struck. As our combadge network is still functioning, we should team up with the other squads-”
“Excuse me.”
They turned. Squad Leader Carradine stood there with several of his fellows, sneering as he asked, “And just who the hell put you in charge anyway?”
“Captain Hrelle did,” Falok informed him.
“Oh of course, Captain Daddy! We should have guessed!”
“Carradine, this isn’t about who’s in charge,” Sasha reminded him sharply. “There could be people trapped, hurt out there! Campus Operations will be stretched thin already, they’re gonna need our help. We’re not out to step on anyone’s toes, but our squads have had more practical experience with emergencies-”
“Well, lucky you! We’re not taking orders from another Ensign!”
“A good point,” Goldstein pointed out.
The cadets snapped to attention as the Superintendent stepped forward, ignoring Carradine to focus on Sasha, her expression serious. “Ensign Hrelle, I was seeking you out to see if you could organise the cadets into search and rescue parties, but you appear to have anticipated that need already… again.” She made a concessionary glance at Carradine. “But a good point was raised. You are exceeding your duties as an Ensign.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Sasha admitted, reddening. “My apologies-”
“Don’t apologise; you were sent to do a job without the proper tools.” She reached up to her own collar, removing two of the pips on her Admiral insignia, before pinning them on either side of Sasha’s own ensign pips, raising her voice so everyone around could hear. “Effectively immediately I am awarding you a field promotion to the rank of Lieutenant Junior Grade.”
As the other cadets reacted to this, Sasha just let her mouth open, offering, “Uh- are you- are you sure about this, Ma’am?”
Goldstein smiled. “These aren’t the proper pips; they should be hollow, not solid ones, but they’ll do until you get to a fabricator. But I’ll want these back, I’ve had them for years, Lieutenant.”
“Uh- yes, Ma’am, I will, promise.”
“Good.” She stepped back and offered her hand.
Sasha quickly took it, as cadets whooped, cheered and applauded her, before it quickly died down, and she added, “Thank you, Ma’am.”
Goldstein grunted. “Don’t thank me. I’ve given you more than pips today. I’ve given you responsibility, reports, burdens, sleepless nights… and it’ll get worse the higher you go.”
She stepped back and looked around her. “These aren’t gold stars or congratulatory stickers from your teacher for colouring within the lines. These are duties. And if people receive them, it’s because they’ve earned them, by shedding blood, sweat and tears. Don’t look on colleagues who have been in battle, who have laboured through crises, as ‘lucky’. The only luck they’re feeling themselves is that they made it through in one piece.”
She looked at Sasha once more. “I want a report on your plans for a search and rescue pattern in five minutes, Lieutenant.”
Sasha barely suppressed her smile. “Yes, Ma’am!”
Goldstein started away – but then stopped in front of Carradine. “Mr Carradine, I have a special task for you. Something that will require a particular amount of courage on your part. Do you think you can handle it?”
Carradine straightened up and beamed. “Yes, Ma’am!”
“Good. I want you to find Captain Hrelle, and inform him that you have been running around here like a putz referring to him as ‘Captain Daddy’, because you believed his daughter and her colleagues didn’t earn the recognition they have received. Then you’ll apologise to him.” She leaned in. “It’s important that you use the word ‘putz’. He’ll know what it means.”
Carradine blanched, eyes wide. “Y-Yes, Ma’am.”
As the Superintendent departed, Giles, Eydiir, Neraxis and others drew in closer to Sasha, shaking her hand or slapping her on the back, while the young woman still appeared dazed, looking to Giles. “I’m not dreaming, am I? That did happen, didn’t it?”
Giles laughed, hugging her. “I think you’ll need a drink after this.”
She nodded. “A whole round of them.”
Beside them, Neraxis turned and shouted, “Hey, everyone, the first round at the Schooner’s on the new Lieutenant!”
As the announcement provoked cheers, Sasha turned to her friend and told her where she could stick her bald blue Bolian head.
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