Surefoot 18: Inseparable

Hrelle and T'Varik exchanged glances, before Hrelle explained, "We're creating a position specific to this ship and this mission, because of the unique engineering challenges that seem to have arisen: a Special Engineering Officer, a sort of troubleshooter, to work out unusual problems like tracking pirates in a dark matter nebulae, or getting a disabled ship up and running again in record time." He smiled. "Or fooling Nekrosi mines."

"Jonas' unique experience and expertise have proven to be a consistent asset," T'Varik added. "He has excelled in the Leadership courses he has taken, and Counselor Shall has confirmed his mental and emotional fitness for the additional responsibilities. This will not be a permanent or full-time promotion, but one assigned to him on an ad hoc basis for specific assignments."

"But when it is," Hrelle pointed out. "He'll have the authority to recruit any cadets, crew or equipment necessary to get the job done, and he'll be answerable only to myself or Commander T'Varik. Because of that, at those times he'll hold the grade of Lieutenant."

Sasha smiled. "So, he'll outrank me, huh?"

"Only when required. Assuming he accepts the challenge."

"He will, or I'll kick his ass." Her smile became a grin. "But you have to change the title. 'Special Engineering Officer' sounds... special."

T'Varik offered a raised eyebrow. "Would 'Strategic Engineering Officer' provoke less puerile ribaldry?"

"Definitely."

The Vulcan nodded. "If you will now excuse me, Lt C'Rash is apparently under the impression that I agreed to give her a 'good hard grooming'. I will go clarify the issue."

"Have fun," Hrelle grinned. "And watch those claws on your nethers."

"Oh God, that's right," Sasha agreed, flushing darkly.

T'Varik did not dignify their responses with one of her own, leaving father and daughter alone.

It was peaceful for a moment, before Hrelle noted, "My wife packs a punch."

"I don't blame her. What were you thinking, staying with me like that?"

"I told you, I wasn't going to let you die alone. You were only in that predicament because of me. It was the least I could do."

"It was the stupidest thing you could do. What if they hadn't been able to revive you?"

He breathed out, aware of the pain still in his repaired lungs from the effort, but hiding it. "I knew they would. This wasn't the first time I died."

She turned her head towards him. "You've died before?"

He nodded. "Six times now. Twice when I was in command of the Furyk; I never told your mother. Twice while in captivity. Once with the Ferasans-"

"You died then? But I was there! How did I miss that?"

He shrugged. "You were busy getting fixed up yourself at the time."

She leaned back, staring upwards. "I don't remember anything. No Celestial Choir, no light at the end of the tunnel, no family waiting for me."

"Were you expecting any of that?"

"I... I don't know. I thought... maybe I'd see Mom."

He nodded. "I'm sorry, Sasha."

"For what?"

"This wasn't the birthday I wanted you to have."

She shrugged. "Sometimes the Universe Has other Plans."

"We both know that, all too well." Now he offered a smile. "Are you tired?"

"No, why?"

"I thought we could watch Chitty Chitty Bang Bang again."

She smiled back. "Why not?" Louder now, she stared at the overhead screen in front of their beds. "Computer: access Video Library, Terran Archive, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang." She smirked. "I'll try not to get scared by the Child Catcher this time, but no promises."

"The Child Catcher is nothing. Just think about what I'm gonna get you for your Twenty-First birthday." He sat up, lifting up his right cheek as if to free his tail - and farted instead.

Sasha screwed up her face in disgust. "That's horrible!"

He chuckled. "I'm old. And I died."

"It certainly smells like you did!"

"Happy birthday, Sasha..."

THE ADVENTURES OF THE SUREFOOT WILL CONTINUE IN... STAR-CROSSED