Surefoot 13: Vectors

"Good work, Captain."

Neheru shook his head. "Sir, I'm no Captain, I'm just a glorified valet. I was only given command because of my seniority, and my familiarity with the Saber class."

"Doesn't matter. You were in command, and you did remarkably well. I'll be making sure your commanding officer knows it, too."

He shook his head, as if he could cast away the memories. "I fear I will have merely reinforced my people's reputation for timidity in his eyes."

"Would you rather be fearless?"

"Who wouldn't?"

"I wouldn't. Fearless men are idiots. They're reckless. They're dangerous to themselves and others." He pressed the hypospray against Neheru's neck. "You were sent in a direction you didn't expect, placed in a position you weren't prepared for. You faced the possibility of dying. You were terrified - as anyone with brains would be - but you still stuck around to do the right thing."

The Kelpien's threat tendrils receded into his head, as he visibly calmed down. "The freighter, its cargo, it's lost-"

"Screw the freighter, and its cargo. You got the crew and yourselves out of there, and kept your ship intact. That's what matters. You've nothing to be ashamed about." He patted the young officer on the shoulder. "Relax now, while the real medics do a double check on you." He chuckled. "I have no idea what I'm doing here."

Neheru looked down at it and made an expression that could be a smile to his people. "I think you do."

Hrelle took the medical equipment and moved onto the next patient. But he glanced around the shuttlebay just the same, hie furred brow creased in thought.

*

Deck 2, First Officer's Quarters/Office:

T'Varik never looked up from the multiple desk screens surrounding her when her door chimed. "Enter."

She didn't have to look up to know it was Giles Arrington who entered, even if he didn't announce formally, "Beta Squad Leader Giles Arrington reporting as ordered, Ma'am."

She still didn't look up. "That greeting is no longer appropriate in your fourth year, Mr Arrington. Particularly as I did not order you here. Proceed swiftly to your reason for your presence in my office."

Giles swallowed, breathed in sharply and announced, "Commander, I wish to request an immediate transfer to another ship in the AWE Program."

Now she looked up. "Not possible, Mr Arrington. The cadet squads on the other ships in the Program are already fully staffed."

"Then, perhaps, one of their squad leaders would like to exchange with me?"

"And what is your reason for requesting this?"

He blinked. "It's... personal. I don't want to-"

"My time is precious. You will elaborate. Or you will leave."

He tensed, visibly struggling with opening up. "I can't- I can't stay onboard with Sasha anymore. I've... She's humiliated me."

"In what way?"

Somehow he reddened even more. "She had an affair with someone while she was on Cait."

"I see. And presumably you dissolved your relationship with her over that?"

He blinked. "Of course I have! Wouldn't you?"

"There is no 'of course' about it; people's acceptance and tolerance of such events within relationships is entirely subjective. So as I understand it, now that you and she are no longer intimate, it will be uncomfortable for you to serve onboard the same ship as her, yes?"

He nodded. "Yes, that's exactly it, Ma'am."

She nodded too. "Request denied."

His face reddened. "What? You can't refuse me!"

"As your Academy Liaison and your superior officer, I certainly can refuse you - and I can overlook your insubordinate tone... albeit to a very limited degree."

He stiffened, his faced creased with disbelief. "So you expect me to just take her back and forget what she did-"

"As I have absolutely no interest in your relationship with her, or with anyone else's relationships, I do not expect you to do anything - except behave in a professional, mature manner as is required by the uniform you wear and the oath you took.

You and she will not be the first members of Starfleet who have to work together despite a failed relationship, nor will you be the last. And you cannot expect Starfleet to accommodate you at every turn. Is that understood?"

He swallowed, clearly appearing eager to either argue further, or drop the subject completely. "Yes, Commander. I apologise for disturbing you with this, and for being discourteous. I was just... upset."

"Acknowledged."

"May I be dismissed now?"

She nodded to the door, but he was almost at it before she added, "Giles?"

He stopped and turned, surprised at the informal use of his first name. "Commander?"

She looked at him fully. "Did Sasha have to tell you what happened? Could she have conceivably kept it to herself and not been honest with you?"

He frowned. "Um, yes, I suppose she could have. But I don't see-"

"And when she did tell you, was she triumphant about it? Callous? Did she make any distasteful or disparaging comparisons between her alleged paramour and yourself?"

"Well, no."

"Did she appear regretful about what happened?"

"Regretful? Maybe for hurting me, I guess. What does all of this have to do with it? She still did it."

"Yes, and I will not comment on the morality of her actions, or make excuses on her behalf. But I can confidently say, as her instructor and Academy liaison, that she is a good person. Not infallible, but good. And I suspect you concur.

You once took the Kobayashi Maru test, along with all other cadets on Command courses, and you know it is a test of character more than anything else, a test to understand how you deal with your own failures. But it is equally important, if not more so, to understand how you deal with the failures of others. Because in this life, people will fail. They will fail you. You will fail others.

Speak to her, calmly. At the very least, establish a truce of civility between the two of you; given your history, it is possible to salvage something out of this. If nothing else, your relationship may move in a new direction that will ultimately be satisfying for you both."

He seemed to genuinely consider her words, finally nodding and replying, "Thank you, Commander." He smile a little. "Sometimes I envy Vulcans. They never seem to have any problems."

"No," she agreed neutrally. "We never seem to."

*

Kami had expected to return with Esek to the Surefoot after they assisted moving the wounded to the Starbase sickbay facilities.

But she'd sensed the change in the mood of her husband along the way, a departure of the gloom and self-pity of before, and towards a new vector, an animated enthusiasm. When Lieutenant Neheru had been released and debriefed by 154's Starfleet Liaison Office, Esek had been waiting for him, cajoling him into escorting them back to the new ship for a tour, asking a plethora of questions along the way, on the vessel's specifications, performance, crew complement, facilities, offensive and defensive capabilities, and questions on things Kami never heard about. Hrelle was as excited as a cub getting his first sniff of a female in Season.

Kami wasn't sure yet what was going on. But she liked it.

They ended the tour where they started, at the docking bay, with Hrelle suggesting to her, "Why don't you go back to the Surefoot, unpack and put your feet up. Actually, don't unpack, not just yet. I've worn you out in your condition, I'm so sorry-"

"If you don't shut up about my condition I'll carry out my mother's threat to your Amazing Sperm." She drew in closer. "What's going on in that gorgeous head of yours, Esek?"

He looked almost ready to tell her... but instead he just smiled. "I have a lot of hurdles to get over first: with Starfleet Command, the Academy, Lt. Neheru's CO at Utopia Planitia, T'Varik - especially T'Varik - but if I'm successful..." He nodded at the Sabre-class starship outside the docking bay. "That will be the next Surefoot."

"What? You're drunk. They're not gonna let you take a top-of-the-line brand new ship to do an ordinary supply run-"

But he brought a shushing finger up to her muzzle, making a very, very sexy accompanying sound, before drawing in closer to murmur in her ear. "Trust me, I know what I'm doing. So get that sweet little tail of yours back to our old ship... or I'm liable to take you back onboard this one to test out the bed in the Captain's Quarters." He purred for emphasis.

She recognised he was at least partly deflecting her questions and concerns - but she also recognised how much of a genuine good drive he had now.

And the purrs went straight to her nethers and made her tail wag.

"Get something to eat," she suggested. "Get the smell of whiskey off your breath so you're taken seriously."

"Yes!" he exclaimed loudly, smacking her on the rear and racing back like a child to a bemused Neheru standing nearby. "Come on, we never tested those replicators of yours in the Mess Hall!"

Kami returned to the Surefoot, the tingle in her rear from his touch such a pleasing distraction that she barely registered the cadet rushing up to her, until he was practically in her face. "Jonas! You nearly made me pee myself!"

He paled and jumped back. "Oh! Sorry, Counselor! Terribly sorry! Are you okay?"

She smiled. "Of course I am, I was just- never mind. I'm sorry we didn't get a proper welcome talk in the meeting before and-" Then she caught him glancing down at the slight bump at her waistline. "Who told you?"

"Um, Rrori accidentally let it slip." He flushed. "Congratulations."

"Thank you. We'll make a formal announcement later, once the more important business with the ship is addressed. What can I do for you?"

Jonas breathed in, determined not to lose his nerve now after making his decision. He glanced around, making sure there was no one in the corridor to hear them. "It's about that business with the ship. Well, since we both know what it's about, and that we might soon be parting and maybe not see each other again, I just wanted to say: Thank you, Kami. Thank you for your counsel, for your ear, for your patience and understanding. Thank you for pulling me back from the Abyss, for always having a warm, wonderful smile that brightens up everyone's day, and for helping me be a better man." Then, with impulsive punctuation, he hugged her tightly, only afterwards squeaking too late, "I'm not hurting you, am I?"

Kami chuckled, and hugged him back. "No, you're not." She drew back, aware of people watching them as they passed by in the corridor, she stood there, smiling, her tail swishing happily. "Thank you for saying all those lovely things. But we're not all splitting up. Not just yet."

His eyes widened. "We're not?"

"The Captain's working on something. And from the way he's carrying on, it's something special. So don't be giving anyone else any goodbye hugs - or any other displays of affection - just yet, okay?"

He grinned; that was a load off his mind! If anyone could come up with something, it was Captain Hrelle! "Okay, Counselor! Thanks!"

Suddenly, Kami's expression changed, and she clutched her belly. "Oh, no-"

He sobered. "Something wrong?"

"Oh, no," she repeated, looking to him in alarm. "When we hugged, I think- I think my cub might have accidentally bonded with you now, believing you're his father! When he's born, he'll reject Esek in favour of you!"

His jaw dropped. Oh God, what did he do to her? "You're kidding!"

"Yes," she confirmed, sticking her tongue out at him; as she departed, she declared. "I'm gonna love having another year to tease you!"

He watched her go around the corner, his heart still racing. "Bitch..."

"I heard that," she called back jovially.

*

T'Varik had been arranging to make preliminary interviews with prospective candidates for a replacement captain when her combadge chirped, and Hrelle's voice filled the air. "Commander, please report to Airlock 2 for an EVA mission immediately."

She stopped and indulged in a furrowed brow, touching her combadge to reply, "I am occupied with vital work, Captain. May I ask the reason behind your request for me to engage in Extravehicular Activity?"

"It's not a request, it's an order from your superior officer. And I believe I am still your commander."

"Captain-"

"Did I mention the word 'immediately'?"

"You did, Sir."

"Good. I'm sitting on the Starbase's mooring clamp on the port saucer side. Hurry up and join me before I run out of air and die waiting for you, and then you'll have more paperwork."

During the periodic EVA certification exercises, T'Varik typically managed a minimum outfitting time of 2.35 minutes. Today it was a disappointing 2.58 minutes, which she attributed to the length of time she had been working on making alternative arrangements since her meeting with Captain Hrelle that morning. Her magnetic boots clamped faithfully onto the underside of the saucer, allowing her to walk over the edge and onto the dorsal side as she approached the Captain.

He was sitting against the mooring clamp as promised, like it was some tree stump in a bucolic setting; in the distance behind him, the lights of the Starbase's traffic control tower were in sharp contrasts to the purple defector beams stretched periodically along the circumference of the facility, occasionally reaching out and moving stray asteroids away. He waved to her, his voice carrying over the comlink. "About time, Commander. Did you get lost?"

"No, Sir." She noted his exosuit was a variant of the typical Starfleet design, with the elongated helmet to accommodate his muzzle and ears, and the armoured, articulated tail sheath swishing behind him some of the obvious differences. "May one enquire now why we are outside?"

"Well, firstly, I wanted to apologise for my earlier behaviour to you. You made a significant effort to find alternative vessels and missions for us, and I kicked you in the toches for it."

"No kick to my posterior was actually given, Sir, and no apology is required. Especially one which involved taking me away from my work to climb into an exosuit and meet you outside."

"Then I'll move on to the 'Secondly'." He pointed past her. "What can you tell me about that ship?"

T'Varik turned, following his extended finger to the small, tightly-packed-looking Starfleet vessel with blue-lit swept-back nacelles mounted to the sides of a hexagonal saucer with an embedded secondary hull. "I cannot identify the specific vessel from this distance, but it appears to be a Saber-class starship, first introduced as a potential replacement for older multi-mission designs such as the Mediterranean-class and the Oberth-class. Production of the model has proceeded apace since 2360." She paused as she witnessed the ship perform a series of sharp vectors that looked impossible. "This one appears to have been commandeered by inebriates."

"Worse: our Flight Ops cadets. You know, I think I can discern their individual styles as they take turns at the helm: Rrori's pounces, Chaudri's banks, Drill's spins-"

"Why are they piloting another ship?"

"I invited them, and Lt. Velkovsky, to try it out. It must be quite a change from the Surefoot's clunky old warp drive."

"And the captain of that vessel agreed to allow our cadets to terrify the Starbase flight control crew with these aerobatics?"

"It stopped having a captain the moment Lt. Neheru brought the ship to the Starbase. It doesn't even have a name - yet - just a designation number: NCC-72111. It's waiting for a captain and a crew to be assembled, to become a fleet tender for the front-line vessels on the Cardassian border and the Demilitarised Zone."

"Sir, that is very interesting-"

"I think so, too, since that's going to be the next Surefoot."

T'Varik paused. "I beg your pardon, Sir?"

"That will be our next ship, and front-line fleet tender work will be our next mission."

"The Academy Superintendent will not allow the cadets to engage in missions near the Cardassian border and the DMZ. The risk to their lives is too great."

"Help me up," he asked. As she did so, he grunted. "They shrunk my exosuit around the waist since I last wore it."

"Of course they did, Sir. Captain, I appreciate your efforts in this, but-"

"Did you know," he interrupted, "That 72% of the officers and crew of those front-line vessels consist of Starfleet personnel with less than 2 years' experience? You'd probably recognise most of them from the Academy if you saw them."

The realisation made her pause. "I was not aware of that fact."

"As you can imagine, Starfleet Command isn't exactly advertising it, either. I know that cubs fresh out of the Academy will often jockey for a front-line posting for their first assignment, because it looks good on their record, because you can advance more quickly, and it probably satisfies some cockamamie sense of adventure.

But things could heat up out there, so very quickly and easily, thanks to the Cardassians, the Tzenkethi, the Maquis. And having our front line manned by relatively-inexperienced officers and crew could quickly turn into a disaster.

I've been in communication with Admirals Nechayev and Tattok about this, and we think we might have come up with something. They need a front-line Strategic Operations Officer, someone on hand with extensive tactical experience to offer advice and support if requested - and to take overall command if necessary. Now, officially, I'll still be nothing more than the Captain of a support ship, with cadets in training, it will remain my primary job, and I will not taking our cadets into battle - if I can help it."

"A Strategic Operations Officer," she repeated, considering his words.

"Yes - I wanted my official title to be Papa Bear, but they wouldn't allow it."

"That is regrettable," she noted dryly. "Sir, I can see the logic and value in such a change of position and mission. But I am not sanguine about the Superintendent's response."

"Commander, it's no damn good protecting our cubs before they graduate, only to send them out here to risk getting killed before they've even earned their two-year-tour of duty ribbons."

"I cannot argue against that, Captain."

"And as much as I appreciate the old Surefoot and its long and proud history, having a newer, tougher, faster vessel under us will give us a definite edge in any situation that might arise, protecting the cadets more effectively - as well as giving the cadets more relevant experience with state-of-the-art technology."

T'Varik looked up again to see the vessel stop its manoeuvres, and carefully glide back to the Starbase's docking bay. "Captain, you have astounded me."

"I have?"

"Indeed. I spent 19.62 hours collating data to select what I believe were appropriate vessels and missions. In a fraction of that time, you actually appropriated your own vessel and created your own mission."

He shifted in place, an approximation of a shrug. "Thank you. But I know we still need to sell it to the Superintendent. It will take all of my logic and rationality, and all of your charm and sex appeal to win her over."

"You are of course assuming that I approve of this," she pointed out.

"I haven't forgotten."

He held out his hand to her and smiled. One of his more charming ones, too.

She raised an eyebrow.

"If it helps," he added, "I'm purring inside my suit."

"Duly noted."

She accepted his hand.

*

Deck 4, Alpha Squad Quarters:

In the end, they didn't have the heart to take Rrori's family wine from him, settling for Neraxis' Bolian beer, which in the end probably had a stronger alcoholic content anyway.

Certainly it was enough to make Eydiir take the latest bottle that Sasha grabbed from the cooler before she opened it. "You've had four. That is enough."