Surefoot 06: Grey Matters

"But my ideas might someday be incorporated into subsequent Grey Alert operations."

"Yes, but will you still be around to appreciate it? Going to the First Officer after being turned down by the Captain goes against ship protocol."

"Perhaps, but clearly I should have gone to her first about it, given the situation onboard."

"What situation?"

He looked at her with those big warm... patronising chocolate-brown eyes of his. "Sasha, with all due respect to your father, it's clear who's really running this ship. You only have to look at the state of him, to listen to him, to understand that his best years are behind him. Little wonder they assigned him something safe like this ship to wile away his final days in Starfleet."

The table went quiet.

Then Kit spoke up, his normally placid demeanour now laced with consternation. "Friend Rrori, for someone who professes respect to our Captain, you show precious little of it with your words."

"Hear, hear," Eydiir agreed coldly. "How dare you speak about him that way? You've not been here a day, and you think you're fit to pass judgement on him?"

"Yes," he replied without irony. "I have compared our records. I am his superior physically, mentally, academically-"

"Oh, I'll bet, Furball," Neraxis sneered, her cobalt-blue skin darkening with anger, "But you know what? If my family were in trouble, I'd tell them to call on the Captain for help, not you. You know why? 'Coz I know he'd take on the Galaxy to save them. You'd be too busy staring in the mirror and stroking yourself off."

The Caitian looked up in confusion at the surrounding faces, all sporting varying amounts of censure. "I don't understand your reactions. Surely it's obvious that he's past his prime and-"

Sasha reached across and took the PADD from his hand, capturing his attention once more, her voice as cold as the breath which was now ghosting from their mouths as the temperature continued to drop. "Listen up, Prince Myshkin: my father chose this ship. It wasn't assigned to him. He could have had his choice of command of an explorer, frigate, escort vessel, border patrol. Any ship. But he chose this ship, because it was part of the AWE Program, and he wanted to be near me, after being separated from me for nearly seven years.

As for him being past his prime... he may not be the man he once was, but I think even now he could outfight you, outsmart you, out-anything you. And I don't care how many gold-plated polo ponies your family have given you, or how many awards or achievements you've got under your belt, or how immensely handsome and attractive you are."

Rrori looked around him now. "This hostility is not necessary, I was merely-"

"I don't think you're capable of doing anything 'merely'," Sasha told him. "The way you strut around here, I'm frankly amazed you can get your head through doorways without scraping your perfect little ear tips." She handed him back his PADD. "If you're done eating, perhaps you should return to the Bridge and your duties?"

"As a matter of fact-"

"It wasn't a suggestion, Cadet," she told him blankly.

Rrori stared at her for a moment, before acceding, "As you wish, Squad Leader." He rose, lifted up his PADD and the tray with the remains of his food, and departed the table.

The rest of the squad remained silent and still for a few seconds, before Eydiir noted, "Well said, Sasha."

"Yeah," Neraxis agreed. "He had that coming to him."

They went silent again.

Then Jonas asked, "You really think he's immensely handsome and attractive?"

Sasha looked at him. "I never said that."

"Forgive me, Friend Sasha," Kit countered, "But you did. You also mentioned his perfect little ear tips-"

"Didn't say that either," she insisted calmly. "Now finish your meal."

"But Sash-" Jonas insisted mildly.

"Both of you," she replied firmly.

"You heard your mother," Neraxis joked.

*

Deck 1, Captain's Office, 2120 Hours:

T'Varik held out a PADD. "Cadet Rrori presented me with the details of his proposal."

Hrelle looked up from his desk. "After I rejected him?" He rose to his feet, baring his teeth. "I'll pummel the little brat!"

The Vulcan looked at him curiously. "Pummelling will not be necessary. I have given him an official reprimand for his breach of protocol. However, to be fair, I have examined his proposal; it *is* viable."

"Really?" He took the PADD and stared at the display without really looking at it.

"Yes. Although the Rrori Manoeuvre is on average 12% slower-"

"Excuse me? The What Manoeuvre?"

"The Rrori Manoeuvre." She raised an eyebrow to his reaction. "Needless to say I did not provide that nomenclature. To continue, while it is 12% slower than utilising the impulse engines, the resulting decrease in our energy signature will average at 18.5%, which could provide a vessel with a significant tactical advantage under the right circumstances."

"So, no logical reason to not let him try it out?"

"No, Sir."

He nodded - then dropped the PADD on his desk. "Fortunately, I'm not required to give a logical reason for refusing him."

Her brow furrowed. "I understand that he broke with protocol, but you have been known to be more... forgiving... of your 'cubs'."

He sat down behind his desk, hating how the cold seemed to seep into his bones, despite the cold-weather gear. He rubbed his eye sockets. "He's so full of himself, so sure of his brilliance."

"Youth rarely possesses objectivity - Vulcans being an obvious exception, of course. But they all share the desire to want to prove themselves. Were you not like that yourself at that age?"

"I don't remember. It was that long ago." He stared down at his hands, imagining more than seeing the wrinkles beneath the fur. "You were right, in the briefing today: I am closer to the end of my career than the beginning. The same could be said for my life."

"It was not intended to be an insult, Captain. Vulcans honour those with age and experience - yourself included. And I believe you have many years of service ahead of you. And life."

He dropped back into his seat again. "Not that many, T'Varik. It's different for Vulcans; you and I are roughly the same age, but you could live to be 200. Caitians don't even live as long as humans. And my experiences have shaved a lot of years off the tail end of my life. I'm greying. I'm greying and I'm cold and I don't move as fast or as easy as I used to. But don't worry, Commander, if I should drop dead along the way, there'll always be talented young cubs like Rrori to replace me."

They went silent for a heartbeat.

Then she replied softly, "Captain... our mortality defines us, whether we live to be 2, 20 or 200. And the wisest of us keeps this in constant reminder, but not at the expense of wasting our precious time in moribund obsession.

And for the record: you can never be replaced. At best, you can only be succeeded. And only by someone who could only aspire to be a fraction as good a commander as you."

He looked up at her, smiling now. "Thank you, T'Varik. You know, you're really quite emotional when you want to be."

The Vulcan's brow furrowed. "I do not believe there is any reason to be insulting, Sir."

"Of course not, my apologies." He tapped the side of his head. "Senility."

*

Deck 2, Gymnasium, 0015 Hours:

The ship had grown colder, particularly along the outer perimeters, but most of the crew had changed into cold weather gear, or stayed deeper within the interior of the vessel.

There was only two people in the gym, clad in more traditional, comfortable exercise clothes, including Hrelle, though he still shivered despite his fur, and despite the exercise he underwent with Sasha, practising their K'Gresirr moves on the mats, their breath misty from their mouths and nostrils, lent an eerie glow from the portable lanterns laid about. "You're crouching too low."

"Sorry." She drew back her elbows, pausing to twist her head around and hearing it creak. "K'Nill!"

She charged forward, striking out, while Hrelle countered, deflecting her strikes and countering with his own, drawing closer to each other before finally grappling, Sasha twisting around and using Hrelle's weight against him, sending him to the mat.

"K'Nuran!" he called out, stopping the match and catching his breath as he added, "That was a good move, cub."

She nodded, catching her own breath. "Got lucky. And got lots of pent-up energy because of the new guy."

"Me too."

She stopped and stared at him. "Really?"

Now he stopped, feeling himself blush. "It's probably not the same type of energy."

"I would hope not."

Hrelle shook his head. "I don't understand it. I feel perfectly rational when he's not around. But the moment he's with me, I want to smack him down, chew him up and spit him out."

"Me too," she echoed, blushing as she added, "Sort of."

Hrelle regarded her, then drew closer and dropped his voice to a whisper in her ear. "I know I can embarrass you with my jokes and my teasing, and I'm sorry for that... sometimes. And I understand if you don't want to talk to your old man about certain adult matters.

So I advise you, as your Captain as well as your father, to go talk to Kami about it, and now. Because it's affecting your job. And because I have a feeling she's gonna be busy counseling me about that little jerk as well before too long."

"It's not... It..." Then she stopped. "Fine."

Hrelle patted her on the shoulder and moved aside - just as he caught an approaching scent, and tensed a little, as Rrori entered, wearing exercise clothes like the rest of them. "Ahh, Captain, good to see you here. Do you practice K'Gresirr?"

Sasha said nothing but gave him a nasty look as she departed, leaving Hrelle to answer. "Yes. Are you looking to learn?"

"No need, Sir - I'm a Tier Five."

"So am I."

"Yes," Rrori conceded, adding, "But when was that? Thirty years ago?" He laughed. "Amazing! That was before I was even born!"

Hrelle drew in closer, growling. "I can still send you to the mat without breaking a sweat, cub!" He cracked the knuckles in his hands and adopted the introductory pose. "K'Nill!"

Rrori responded, dropping, arms wide, fingers extended but claws remaining sheathed, tail low and still, eyes fixed on his opponent as they circled, each one of them offering swipes, waiting for the other to follow through. Occasionally they connected, knocking each other's arms away, before shifting to leg kicks.

Hrelle's anger rose, as Rrori connected, again and again, leaving bruises along his shins and forearms. The little brat was going to beat him. On his own vessel. Some snot-posed punk was going to show him up!

To the Seven Hells with that.

He feinted to the left, making a sound like he was in pain, distracting Rrori and allowing Hrelle to deliver a blow to the cub's midsection. Rrori doubled over, and Hrelle took advantage, leaping on him and using his weight to pin his opponent down, ready to sink his teeth into the waiting neck-

-Like another neck he had once torn into, another captive like himself, the warm flesh waiting to be ripped apart, while around them, the cheers of his Orion captors and their customers, who had come to watch two slaves fight to the death. His heart pounded, driven by more than the aggression drugs the Orion forced into him, threatening to burst from his chest with sheer excitement at the imminent kill-

Hrelle drew back in horror, staring down in disbelief at what he had wanted to do. What the- he looked down at Rrori, now curled up, gasping, eyes screwed shut. Mother's Cubs, he assaulted a cadet...

He dropped down to one knee beside him again, his voice softer. "Just keep still, breathe in slowly. Relax your stomach muscles, they'll only hurt worse if you tense up."

Rrori nodded weakly, gasping as he admitted, "That was- I never saw that coming-"

Hrelle collapsed beside him. "Neither did I; nice to know I still have some moves. I think you were on the road to beating me anyway. Come on, let's get you to Sickbay. Something's wrong... with both of us." Gently he reached under and helped the cadet back to his feet, guiding him out.

*

Deck 1, Counselor's Office:

"It's your nose," Kami concluded, walking around in her cold-weather clothes, rubbing her gloved hands together. "You've got a stronger sense of smell than most humans. And this, coupled with growing up around a Caitian, helped you develop a sensitivity to our natural scents. Your mother was probably the same way."

Sasha frowned to herself. "Well, I prefer that explanation, to the idea that I'm in love with some egotistical tool." Her gaze dropped. "I felt like I was... I was being unfaithful to Giles-"

Kami smiled at her. "I know, but don't worry, you weren't. It's just biochemistry, your grey matter, all your synapses and axons reacting instinctively. And it'll ebb as you get used to his presence in close quarters." She gave Sasha a sly smile. "If he does still get... distracting, just remind yourself what his first name is, that'll shake you out of it."

"He never said it. He claimed it was unpronounceable to humans."

"Ooh, the little liar."

"Liar? Why would he lie about his name?"

"Well, he's quite thin-furred about it. Maybe I shouldn't say..." Then she added, "On the other hand, it's not technically confidential information, so..."

She told Sasha.

The cadet blinked and asked, "Really? Are you serious?"

Kami nodded. "It's an old Caitian name, and obviously doesn't have the same meaning as it does to humans. No doubt he came up with that 'unpronounceable' crap the first time he introduced himself to non-Caitians." She pointed a finger at Sasha. "Now I'm trusting you not to abuse this information."

Sasha smiled back. "I promise, I'll only use it in case of emergency." Then her smile dropped. "What about Dad? He seems really angry with Rrori."

"Really?"

"Yes. Not just annoyed, but confrontational. Like he'd been with Giles that first night, only worse."

Kami frowned, then tapped her combadge. "Computer: where's Captain Hrelle and Cadet Rrori?"

"Both individuals are in Sickbay."

Sasha's pulse raced. "Why?"

"Unknown," the computer replied as expected.

Both women looked at each other, before wordlessly departing.

*

They entered to find T'Varik standing there behind a transparent wall; beyond it, Dr Ling was standing beside Rrori, who was sitting up on a biobed, with Hrelle standing beside him. The two males appeared to be on friendly terms, with Hrelle clasping the cub's shoulder.

"What happened?" Kami asked immediately.

"I believe an explanation has been discovered for the recent behaviour between the Captain and the Cadet," T'Varik explained. "According to the doctor, when the cadet had contracted Rigellian Kassaba Fever at the Academy, it triggered a hormonal pheromone resurgence that Caitian males typically only experience once or twice at a younger age. The doctor referred to it as-"

"Sh'esirrik," Kami finished, nodding in understanding. "It means 'Rude Male'. Females will go into Season several times a year for most of their adult lives, producing pheromones to attract males, but males typically only undergo that once or twice, and only as they enter puberty. During Sh'esirrik, they begin emitting pheromones that trigger competition and contention among themselves... and attraction in certain females." She glanced teasingly at Sasha, who chose to find something else to catch her attention. "And it explains the Captain's behaviour towards him as well."

"It does not explain why the Captain did not recognise this happening himself at the time."

"It does when you consider he hasn't been around his own kind in decades, and that you expect those type of pheromones when the male cubs are thirteen or fourteen instead of eighteen; had this happened back home, it would have been recognised and dealt with immediately. Here, however... Is that why they're down here? To get pheromone suppressants?"

"Indeed, as well as treating minor injuries resulting from what I suspect was some typical masculine display. May I assume that these mitigating factors will allow me to drop the disciplinary action against Mr Rrori? And not file charges of assault on a cadet against Captain Hrelle?"

Kami smiled. "You assume correctly." As Hrelle and Rrori entered, she asked, "Can we not leave you two males unsupervised for one minute?"

They looked to each other, Hrelle replying with, "Don't know what you're talking about, Counselor. We settled our differences quite amicably. Isn't that right, Cadet?"

Rrori nodded, looking and sounding less arrogant than before. "Yes, Sir. No problems here, Sir."

"Then, Cadet, perhaps you and the Squad Leader can repair to your quarters for the evening?" T'Varik suggested.

"Yes," Kami agreed, "It's been a long day. Go to bed."

"Separate beds," Hrelle clarified.

Sasha gave him a dirty look as she and Rrori departed.

Hrelle yawned now. "You know, bed sounds like a good idea right now." He looked to Kami. "Not separate, though."

"No." She grinned at T'Varik. "Care to make it a threesome?"

"Forget it, Counselor, I asked already, and got turned down. The woman doesn't know what she's missing."

"On the contrary," the Vulcan corrected dryly, "I am fully aware that your combined penchant for burlesque behaviour and sexual innuendo would guarantee me a sleepless evening. And not for the right reasons. Good night."

*

Deck 2, Alpha Squad Quarters:

Sasha and Rrori walked into the room, the group sitting on the floor around the portable heater, some wearing blankets wrapped around them, all of them looking up at the arrivals, giving Rrori various looks.

"Guys," Sasha started before anyone can add anything to the looks. "Rrori has something to say."

The Caitian dipped his gaze to the floor, his tail hanging still behind him. "I... I apologise for being such a disrespectful ass. To the Captain, and to the rest of you. I had... an illness. The details are not important-"

"He had hormones," Sasha informed them loudly, enjoying his reaction. "Clearly something that we females wouldn't understand. Anyway, my Dad has forgiven him. I expect the rest of us to do the same. Agreed?"

Everyone made noises of agreement. Rrori looked relieved. "Thank you, all. I guess- I guess I'm not as smart as I thought I was."

"Yes, you are," Sasha assured him. "You're smart, gifted, talented, hard-working - just like everyone else here. You're proud of who you are and how you've gotten to this place - just like everyone else here. But getting here's not the end of your journey, but the beginning. You have a long way to go still, but you won't do it alone. But you have to stow your ego in your quarters - just like everyone else here."

They went quiet, until Kitirik broke the silence with, "I would still appreciate your assistance with my paper on Spatial Geometry, Friend Rrori."

The newcomer smiled. "I would be delighted! I have received many notes of commendation for-"

Sasha smacked his snout.

Rrori caught himself, continuing with, "I would be delighted." He looked around. "One moment, I have something to share with all of you."

Rrori returned with a small bag. "I have a little libation from home, perhaps you could do me the honour of sharing it?" He made a place for himself on the floor and set the bag in his lap, opening it and producing a dark bottle with a webbed sheath and a cork in the narrow neck. "It's from my clan's vineyards. It has received rather favourable reviews, although the alcohol content is considered quite strong." He looked around them. "Unless there are any biological or cultural restrictions you are observing?"

"Hell, no!" Neraxis exclaimed. "Bring it on, Furball! It'll get us warmed up!"

"That is a misconception," Eydiir corrected. "Alcohol in reasonable amounts is a vasodilator, opening blood vessels and encouraging warm blood to reach the surface of the skin, but does not in itself provide warmth."