"USS
Surefoot-A
, Captain's Log, Stardate 45300.18, Captain Esek Hrelle, Commanding: We are on approach to a sector of the Federation-Cardassian border bridged by the Arkady Cluster, a quasar-like phenomenon of collapsed stars listed as a Class-6 navigational hazard due to the Murasaki Effect it produces.
We are here ostensibly to refuel and refit the squadron of Cyclone-class border patrol vessels stationed in this sector. However, our first rendezvous, with the USS
Tempest
, has a disturbing secondary mission involving its commanding officer, Captain Thomas Acres. And it's one mission I'm not looking forward to fulfilling..."
Across the table from him, Kami barely stopped tucking into her Tarkalian bacon to mutter, "Why not?"
Hrelle set aside his Log Book and picked up his mug again, blowing the steam off the top of the contents. "You know why. You always know why."
His wife smiled, picking bits of breakfast from between her teeth with the claw on her forefinger. "And I always prompt others to voice their own feelings."
He sipped at his tea, delaying the inevitable response. "This is a fellow starship captain. I don't have the right to judge him."
"You're the Strategic Operations Officer for this sector," she reminded him. "Appointed by Admiral Tattok; I'm pretty sure that literally gives you the right. And you're not judging him, you're simply investigating the reports that have been raised about him."
Hrelle harrumphed. "Then I guess I mean that I don't have the temperament for it. It's distasteful."
"Why?"
He looked over at her, reaching across for some bacon - until she growled at him, and he withdrew his hand. "You know I've been on the receiving end of such Starfleet inquisitions, when I was accused of collusion with the Bel-Zon, and badgered by the Barstool Admirals: those smug, opinionated little martinets who haven't done anything themselves, but were still strutting around, yelling, browbeating me. I don't want to be that way."
"So who says you have to be? Maybe what you personally went through makes you the ideal person to do this? You won't be the one to strut about and yell. You'll treat him fairly."
He considered her words, making a sound of concession. "You might be be right."
"Might be?"
Then Kami's combadge chirped. "Counselor, this is Dr Ling, would you please come to Sickbay? Mr Ostrow has just been admitted."
Hrelle tensed and sat up; they had only just appointed Jonas into the
ad hoc
role of Strategic Engineering Officer; had he been injured while performing something related to his new duties? "Doctor, this is the Captain. What's happened? Was there an accident in Engineering?"
He noticed the smirk on Kami's face, but focused on the doctor's reply. "No, Sir, this was more... recreational than industrial."
"I'll fill him in on the rest, Juliet," Kami assured her loudly. "And I'll be right there. Counselor Hrelle out." She popped the last bit of bacon into her mouth, swallowed and explained, "Jonas has been liplocking with Neraxis for days now, ignoring all the warnings about taking precautions against her biochemistry. Now I get to have 'The Talk' with him. Lucky me." She smiled. "Unless you want to swap jobs?
I'll
investigate Captain Acres,
you
talk about the effect of Bolian bodily fluids on human physiology."
Just then, First Officer Commander T'Varik's calm Vulcan voice interrupted. "Captain, we are on approach to the
Tempest
. We will soon be preparing for Airlock Coupling Procedures."
"On my way. Hrelle out." He shrugged, rising. "Better stick with what I know." But then he seemed to reconsider. "Still, it might be good practice for when Misha needs The Talk from me."
"He won't need that for many years to come." She smiled. "On the other hand, he
is
your son, he'll be very precocious in that area."
*
Deck 4, Sickbay Suite:
Jonas thought he should have felt immediately better after Dr Ling administered anaprovaline for his acute nausea and headache attack. But then came the reactions from the others in the room: annoyance from the doctor herself, smirking derision from the nurses present, and an embarrassing level of enthusiastic support from the Klingon surgeon Dr Kline, who likened what Jonas had undergone to some test of bravery akin to taking the business end of a painstick.
And then the Counselor walked in, her pregnant state adding a slight waddle to her normally graceful gait. She smiled as he slipped off the biobed and stood up, glancing around at the other attendees in the room before indicating the adjacent Consultation Office, which had a door and privacy walls.
For the first time Jonas felt some relief that he would be spared further embarrassment, and gratefully followed, waiting for the door to slide shut on the rest of the Suite before announcing, "I'm sorry you had to be called in on this, Counselor-"
"Sit, Stud." She moved to the office's replicator unit, requesting, "Prophylactic Kit Model 4."
Jonas' jaw dropped, and he felt his face redden, always looking far worse with his mop of silver-grey hair. "Counselor, I don't need this-"
As a small rectangular kit appeared on the replicator pad, she lifted it up and sat herself down behind the desk. "This is the third incident where you've ignored medical advice about taking necessary precautions when engaged in intimate contact with someone of Bolian biochemistry, so I tend to disagree."
"It's not that I've ignored it!" he insisted, growing hot under his uniform. "It's just..." His words trailed away as he could still feel Neraxis' lips on his that morning, following another boxing lesson promised him. They had been growing closer and closer over the past couple of weeks, and though they had yet to rush into actual sex, things had been... heating up. He never would have expected it when he first met her, almost two years ago, that they would end up romantically involved. He sat down. "It's not very... spontaneous... to have to stop kissing someone you love in order to take an analgesic."
She nodded as she opened the kit, removing its contents and lining them up on the desk, and enjoying his reaction as he saw each item. "I can imagine. But it's even less spontaneous knowing that you're going to retch up your last meal afterwards - and less romantic, for both parties, believe me. You can't keep doing this to yourself, Jonas. It can be interpreted as reckless behaviour."
She unwrapped a small square packet. "Now, this is a standard condom, elastic in structure, in order to fit over most humanoid penises, while also being thin enough to not dull the pleasurable sensations you'll experience during intercourse or when your partner performs oral sex on you-"
He held up a hand. "Counselor, this
really