USS
Surefoot
, Deck 3, Airlock 1:
Commander T'Varik did not personally greet any of the other crewmembers who had returned via Starbase 154 from their extended leave - but then none of them were her commanding officer. "Welcome back, Captain Hrelle, Counselor Hrelle, Squad Leader Hrelle, and Cadet Rrori."
Hrelle indicated the Caitian male bringing up the rear. "He's actually Cadet Hrelle now, we adopted him, it sounds better. And how have you been, Commander? I trust you have ignored medical advice and common sense and continued working throughout what should have been
your
leave as well?"
"Correct as always, sir. I trust your own leave was relaxing and fruitful?"
"Relaxing, yes - and
very
fruitful," He smiled and pulled Kami close to him. "We're expecting!"
T'Varik straightened up, looking between the couple. "My congratulations to you both. It is customary to make enquiries at this time regarding age, gender, overall health and expectations."
Kami smiled. "Six weeks now, a male, healthy... and if my time carrying my firstborn is any indication, my expectations are to be getting up to pee frequently through the night over the next six months."
"I am certain you will bear your nocturia well." She looked to Sasha. "Is there a problem, Squad Leader? You do not appear pleased by the news."
The young human shook back her blond hair from her rounded face. "I'm very pleased... for Kami, and she knows it. I'm less pleased having spent the last four days on the cruise having to listen to my Dad boasting to everyone in earshot about the power of his sperm."
"But they're AMAZING!" he declared loudly. "My intrepid little warriors found their target and conquered it!"
"You see?" Sasha indicated.
"I understand completely," the Vulcan admitted. "Squad Leader, Cadet Rrori, the rest of Alpha Squad are currently in their quarters, off-duty until 0800 Hours tomorrow. You will find they have some anecdotes to impart regarding their own leave."
"Thank you, Commander. Um, is Mr Arrington back from his leave yet?"
"He returned yesterday." T'Varik took .89 seconds to note the ambiguous reaction from Sasha over the answer regarding her paramour, before adding, "Dismissed."
Sasha and Rrori looked to each other curiously, before nodding, picking up their luggage and departed. T'Varik witnessed their exit, waiting until the section door slid shut before turning back to Hrelle. "Captain, we need to speak immediately. An important matter arose during your absence."
Hrelle tensed. "Is it a member of the crew? The cadets?"
"Neither, Sir. It is literally the ship itself."
*
Deck 2, Captain's/Counselor's Quarters:
Hrelle's attention was fixed on the wallscreen behind his desk - more specifically, to the image of a swarm of strange-looking single-celling organisms moving over a surface, stopping occasionally and leaving pockmarks in their wake. "What am I looking at?"
"A rare form of metallophagic subatomic bacteria," T'Varik explained. "I believe Mr Ostrow can provide us with some background on this organism. Cadet?"
Beside Hrelle, Cadet Jonas Ostrow cleared his throat; despite his distraction at this unexpected news, he noted how professional and mature the young man presented himself these days, compared to his more emotionally fragile demeanour only a few months ago. "Yes, Commander. The silicon-based lifeform has an alphanumeric listing in the Federation Lifeform Database, but the salvage community refers to it Shiprot - which is actually one of its less profane names. It has an affinity for duranium and tritanium, and possesses trace elements of kelbonite, which interferes with normal scans and transporter beams.
It's these two attributes which has made Shiprot the bane of salvagers, as it's not easily detected, and over the course of just a few months can weaken the spaceframe of a vessel; a lot of credits have been lost over the years from purchasing a wreck that was infested with this. Starfleet has developed a means of detecting and removing Shiprot using tunnelling neutrino beams, and incorporates this into the annual inspections for all Starfleet vessels."
"So presumably the engineering team on Starbase 154 detected this while we've been docked here?" Kami guessed, sitting beside Hrelle.
"Yes, Counselor. The infestation was considerable, encompassing most of the decks in the secondary hull, the connecting support pylons, part of the struts leading to the port warp nacelle, and part of the shuttlebay in the primary hull."
"That's a hell of a lot of my ship!" Hrelle exclaimed with a gasp. "How fast does this stuff spread?"
Jonas paled. "Chief Grev and I ran some tests before the Starbase crew purged the spaceframe of the organism; it's been ongoing for the last 12 months at least."
"Twelve months?"
Hrelle frowned; that was just before he had taken command and had it renamed the
Surefoot
. "Why wasn't it discovered at the ship's
last
annual inspection?"
"I investigated the records," T'Varik informed him. "When the
Surefoot
was under another command and named the USS
Martin Fettman
, its previous inspection was conducted at Deep Space Station K-7 by a private company, Mudd Dynamics, a company whose founder and manager has recently been indicted for corporate fraud - and failure to operate proper spaceframe inspections."
"Well, at least it's been found and dealt with, right?" Kami concluded - though her tone suggested she knew better.
Hrelle's expression and his own tone confirmed it. "Let's hear the bad news, Commander."
T'Varik folded her hands behind her and looked to Jonas. "You are dismissed, Mr Ostrow. I need not remind you of my earlier orders to keep everything about this matter confidential."
"No, Ma'am." He nodded to the Captain and Counselor before departing.
With the three senior officers alone, T'Varik continued. "As you may have gathered, Captain, while the bacteria have been purged, the damage left in their wake remains. And the damage is too extensive and pervasive for standard repair protocols. The entire Secondary Hull, the support struts and parts of the shuttlebay in the Primary Hull no longer pass muster.
The
Surefoot
has had its spaceflight certification revoked, and the Inspection Team has recommended it be decommissioned. Starfleet Command has already been notified, and the USS
Grappler
has been reassigned to our previous assignment in the Leonis Sector."
"I don't have a ship anymore," Hrelle declared blankly, staring at nothing - and then focusing on T'Varik, his expression tightening. "And you didn't think it worthwhile to contact me about this?"
The Vulcan looked to the Counselor, who admitted, "You were on medical leave, Esek, and under my orders you were not to be contacted unless it was an invasion or a galactic disaster or something like that."
He stared hard at Kami in sheer disbelief. "How in the Seven Hells could you do that? I was only on vacation!"
She matched him glare for glare. "You were recovering from nearly being beaten to death by a mob of Ferasans! Not to mention having killed and maimed more than a dozen of them yourself by tooth and claw! You needed a break from everything!"
"Captain," T'Varik interjected softly, "Your presence or knowledge of these events would not have altered their outcome in any way. The
Surefoot
would still be permanently grounded."
He growled, reached out and petulantly knocked an empty coffee mug off the side of the table, but otherwise said nothing.
Leaving Kami to translate. "He says he fully understands and supports the decision to help him recover from his trauma by not adding to his stress, and is sorry if his initial impression might have suggested otherwise, that it was brought on by the shock at the unexpected news."
He shot his wife a dirty look and told her exactly what he thought she was.
Kami remained insouciant. "That probably doesn't need translating."
T'Varik raised an eyebrow. "Agreed."
Hrelle leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes wearily. "Can I assume you haven't been spending your time since you learned about this merely planning a decommissioning party for the ship and crew?"
"You assume correctly, Sir." She lifted up several PADDS from her end of the table and set them down before him. "I have identified three vessels and missions which would meet the standards required by the Academy for our cadets to continue their final year of education via the Advanced Work Experience Program. However, there is a relatively brief window of opportunity for you to choose, without causing undue delay or disruption to the cadets' schedule."
Hrelle stared at the PADDS for a moment without touching them, before replying. "And what makes you think I want to limit myself to just these three?"
T'Varik seemed almost visibly confused. "Sir? As stated, these meets the health and safety requirements for the cadets-"
"Oh, I have no doubt, Commander." Now he looked up at her. "But what makes you assume I want to continue captaining a boatload of cubs?"
Now both women stared at him, Kami the first to ask, "And where's this coming from?"
"It comes from the acknowledgement that I originally took command of this old junk heap because I wanted to make up for lost time with Sasha; and I've since done so. It comes from the realisation that I could have nearly any command I want - a scout, a surveyor, a frigate, a heavy cruiser - you know, some ship that's not held together with gaffer tape and good wishes. I could have a mission that matters."
T'Varik shifted slightly in place. "Forgive me, Sir, but I have always considered training the future members of Starfleet to be a mission that 'matters'."
"Yes," Kami agreed, setting a hand on her husband's forearm. "And so do you. And you're being extraordinarily rude to T'Varik. You haven't even bothered to look at the opportunities she's presenting."
He shook her hand off him, leaned forward, reached out and lifted up the first PADD. "Well, then, let's see what's on offer." He activated the display. "Mmm, USS
Raydeen
, Sydney-class passenger transport on the Deneva Run. Nice."
He tossed the PADD back to the table, letting it slide away as he picked up the second. "USS
Sanford
, Appalachian-class tanker tug. Classy." He sent the second PADD to join the first, as he reached for the final one. "USS
Ulix
, Fredericks-class buoy seeder/repair ship. Wow."
He sent the third sliding, managing to knock the first two off the edge of the table like it was a miniature game of curling. "All simply
exciting
choices, Commander. My compliments to you."
T'Varik somehow straightened up even further. "'The majority of Starfleet personnel will never explore strange new worlds, will never seek out new life and new civilisations. They will most likely boldly go where others have already gone before. But they will still make a difference'. Those were your own words to us when we first boarded the
Surefoot
almost a year ago.