Surefoot 51: Ith and In

Lieutenant C'Rash Shall, Chief of Security, USS

Surefoot

, stepped out into the thin, dry Vulcan air, her loose black civilian clothes giving access to her sable tail at her rear, letting it swish with approval behind her as she took in the collective scents around the spaceport. "Lovely. Simply lovely." She bounced in place, commenting loudly, "You're right about the gravity! I'm gonna have to let you be on top while we're on honeymoon, Marmalade!"

Commander T'Varik approached, identically dressed, carrying their luggage. "Please refrain from employing personal nicknames and sexual innuendo in public while we are here. I will also remind you that I am

not

your valet."

The Caitian looked to her betrothed, batting her eyelashes coquettishly. "But you said I had to take it easy until I grew accustomed to being on your homeworld. I'm so

frail

..."

In a murmur meant for their ears alone, the Vulcan replied, "Intimate experience with you has taught me otherwise." She raised the bag she held in her left arm towards her lover.

C'Rash finally accepted it, but made a dramatic and ostentatious show of its apparent weight now on her shoulder. "This- This is just the start- the start of you domesticating me into married servitude- isn't it?"

"Don't be absurd," T'Varik adjusted the shoulder strap of her own bag. "Attempting to domesticate you would be an exercise in futility. Come, there will be a queue for ground transport."

"Transport? You mean your family isn't here to greet us?"

"No. They did offer to meet us here to complete the legal proceedings immediately upon our arrival."

C'Rash smiled, her tail quickening. "That was nice of them, not wanting you to waste your time."

"They offered it so that I could leave Vulcan that much more quickly."

C'Rash's tail drooped. "Oh."

"I declined. I wished to visit my home... one last time."

*

As it happened, the wait for an autotaxi was not as lengthy as expected. C'Rash stared out of the window at the architecture of the city around them, which proved more varied and vibrant than many might expect. But then, her relationship with one particular Vulcan had long ago altered her initial impressions of these people as unemotional and boring. "It's cooler than I expected."

T'Varik stared ahead, her face a stoic mask. "The Nesh-kur Province sits in the higher latitudes on Vulcan. It possesses hot springs that are popular with visitors for their therapeutic and meditational applications."

"Are we far?"

"Approximately 18.93 minutes, under current traffic conditions. The estate is in the outer districts, overlooking the Shamayam Basin."

C'Rash nodded. "Well, 18.93 minutes is plenty of time for you to finally let me in on what's going on."

"Explain."

"I shouldn't have to. I came here to marry you; you tell me we have some 'legal matters' to complete first-"

"I believe I said that

I

have legal obligations to complete first, not

we

."

C'Rash reached out and took her betrothed's hand. "Oh, Marmalade, after tonight you'd better get used to using the plural pronoun more. As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me, we have some legal matters to complete first at your family home."

T'Varik nodded. "That is a succinct itinerary."

"No, that's a pathetically

scant

itinerary. I'm assuming that there's family waiting for us at your family home?"

"Yes."

C'Rash waited for her to elaborate, and when nothing was forthcoming, she hissed, "See? And now that we're about to marry, I realise that I know next to nothing about your family! You've never talked about them, except for your father. I've not even picked up any stray thoughts about them when we've mind-melded."

"We mind-meld during moments of sex," she reminded the Caitian. "Thoughts of family at such times - particularly

my

family - hardly makes for an efficacious aphrodisiac."

"Point taken." C'Rash adjusted her sitting position and freeing the tip of her tail to curl up onto her lap. "Okay, so I know I'm not the sharpest claw on the paw, but it's logical to guess from your behaviour and responses that there's some bad blood between you and the rest of your family." She paused, clarifying at T'Varik's reaction, "

Proverbial

bad blood. But if I'm going into potentially hostile territory, it's logical for me, as your Chief of Security if nothing else, to have as much data as possible on the situation beforehand." She reached out and squeezed T'Varik's hand. "We're about to be married, Marmalade. It's logical to take me into your confidence."

T'Varik's expression changed slightly. "I find your recent infatuation with the word 'logical' as vexing as your nicknames for me. But that does not invalidate your argument. The family estate is co-owned by the four surviving children of our father, Lenek. My siblings are seeking to sell the property to a private individual, for a lucrative sum; as per the conditions of our father's will, the agreement and signatures of all four children are required for any sale."

"I see. And you're happy to go ahead with it?"

T'Varik glanced outside, as if now interested in the view, as they left the city for the rugged desert countryside. "It is a financially sound transaction, and I could employ my share of the profits towards-"

"I didn't ask about the financial aspects."

T'Varik looked back at her. "It is not rational for me to respond emotionally about a property I have not resided in for 28.78 years. And yet... the thought that someone else would soon call my home

their

home produces in me... melancholy." She made a sound. "No doubt my continued association with you is degrading my self-control."

"You're welcome. And what feelings do your siblings generate in you?"

T'Varik didn't respond.

"Tell me about them. Your siblings, that is."

"My older brother Xanax is a currencies investor, and initiated the proceedings for the sale. I know little else about his current circumstances, nor do I possess any exigent desire to learn more."

"Why not?"

"He is an irritant."

"Excuse me?"

"There is no more appropriate descriptive word for him. I cannot recall any significant period in our shared past when Xanax did not irritate or offend me on multiple levels with his attitude, his opinions on just about every subject imaginable, and/or his actions. As he affected my ability to maintain emotional control from a very early age, I endeavoured to minimise my interaction with him."

"Sorry to hear that. And the others?"

"My older sister Nivor is a minor politician with a District Assembly in another part of Vulcan, representing a party that is anti-Starfleet, and possesses the ensurient personal ambition and perfidy of a Romulan. She would sell me to the Dominion for a seat in the Vulcan Parliament."

C'Rash smirked. "Exaggerate much?"

"No. She told me this herself."

"And I used to think

my

sister was a bitch for stealing my fur brushes. And the last one?"

"My younger brother Pedalk is an alleged author."

"Uh... 'alleged'?"

T'Varik nodded. "It is perhaps more accurate to state that he takes words and places them together in the hope that they will spontaneously form into patterns of artistic significance. He consistently hopes in vain."

"And what does he write?"

The Vulcan breathed in deeply, bracing herself to answer, "Romance novels."

C'Rash blinked, making sure she heard correctly... and then laughed. "You're kidding me!"

"I fervently wish I was."

"I didn't realise there were such things as Vulcan romance novels!"

"They exist, though as one might expect for a race which suppresses visible displays of emotion, examples of the genre will read to offworlders as dry. My brother's efforts, however, go beyond dry to anhydrous, even to Vulcans. To his credit, his many other deficiencies as a writer will often disguise the dessicated nature of his more explicit scenes."

"That's meant to be something to his credit? Is he

that

bad?"

T'Varik looked to her again. "I believe Misha could produce a superior work. Pedalk has self-published on numerous occasions, always to overwhelming indifference, though all attempts to critique his work are met with assurances that everyone is intellectually unqualified to appreciate his talent." Her tone suggested what she thought of that notion.

C'Rash regarded her lover for a moment, before finally responding. "Marmalade... before we arrive, may I make a suggestion?"

"It would be futile at this point in our relationship for me to refuse."

"Futile, and inappropriate. You and your siblings sound like you've been feuding for longer than I have been alive-"

"Vulcans do

not

'feud'. We are not hillbillies."

"What in the Seven Hells are 'hillbillies'?"

"Never mind. Continue."

"What I'm saying is that you should be prepared for the possibility that, after all these years, your brothers and sister may no longer be the a-holes you remember."

"I have never employed rectal-based descriptives."

"I was paraphrasing. And I'll remind you that we'll be returning to duty in a combat zone, a situation where you and I might not survive. So I'd urge you to use this rare opportunity to at least

attempt

to make peace with your siblings. If not for their sake, then for your own peace of mind."

T'Varik stared ahead. "Your Aunt Kami would be amused by your co-opting her role as Counselor." Still, her expression shifted, ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly to someone who did not know her intimately.

C'Rash leaned closer to her, murmuring in her ear, "Promise me you won't let yourself get provoked by them while we're there, and I'll make you scream on our Wedding Night."

T'Varik trembled slightly, and she swallowed while trying to retain some measure of composure. "I am a Vulcan. I am too disciplined to scream."

Then C'Rash let the tip of her long, narrow Caitian tongue stroke along the peaked outline of the Vulcan's left ear, purring in it and promising, "Challenge accepted, Marmalade..."

*

The house was larger than C'Rash expected, a sprawling stone edifice more fortress than domicile, with narrow slitted windows and parapets that overlooked a vast expanse of ochre desert that possessed a layer of oatmeal-grey mist.

"The Basin is a geothermal curiosity," T'Varik explained. "With vents releasing carbon dioxide during the cooler night periods, the gas lying low in the depressions and slowly evaporating during the course of the day, to repeat the cycle at night. It possesses a miniature ecosystem of small animals especially adapted to close off their respiratory systems for extended periods and navigate through the mist. Do you wish to remain here?"

"What, and miss out on meeting your family?" C'Rash slipped an arm around her lover's and guided her towards the front door. "Lead on, Macduff."

"The proper quote from

Macbeth

is 'Lay on Macduff'."

C'Rash purred. "We can talk about getting laid later. Come on, let's get it over with, I'm sure it won't be as bad as you think. In fact, I'll bet my tail that you get a much warmer welcome than you expect."

*

They had barely time to enter and drop their bags on the floor before a tall, swarthy Vulcan female approached, broad-shouldered and broad-jawed, with dark hair peppered in iron grey, and clad in a sober grey business suit. "T'Varik. You are late... again."

T'Varik straightened up her expression taut. "I was late when we last met, 25.48 years ago, following Father's funeral. I have endeavoured to be prompt since, but circumstances do not always make it possible."

Nivor made a sound that was almost a grunt. "Xanax and Pedalk are awaiting us in Father's study, along with the legal Advocate. Leave your bag with your servant and accompany me-"

T'Varik stuck out her chin. "This is Lieutenant C'Rash Shall, my betrothed,

not

my servant."

"Though, as she outranks me, she does order me around from time to time," C'Rash clarified, smiling. "Sometimes I even obey her. A pleasure to finally meet my future sister-in-law."

Nivor offered the Caitian the barest of acknowledgements, peppered with bafflement, before focusing on her sister again. "She is not Vulcan."

Her tail swishing behind her with amusement, C'Rash leaned in closer to T'Varik, saying in a mock whisper, "How'd she figure that out?"

Nivor ignored her. "Were you not engaged to a Vulcan female when we last communicated? Her name was Sakuth, if I recall. She appeared a much more suitable partner for you."

"My engagement to Sakuth was for a very brief time, while studying at Starfleet Academy," T'Varik informed her, aware of C'Rash's gaze. "But we proved irremediably unsuitable."

"Xanax will not approve of her."

T'Varik raised an eyebrow. "I have never chosen my lovers based on the approval to be expected from our brother. You appear well, Nivor."

Her sister offered a look that was dangerously close to appearing smug. "I am. I was elected earlier this year to the Assistant Chair of the District's Parks and Recreation Committee. It is a prestigious and demanding responsibility, one you will be ill-equipped to properly appreciate."

"You may be correct; I am only second in command of a starship that frequents combat zones." She looked to C'Rash. "Please follow me." Then she moved towards the large set of stairs.

Nivor observed the pair ascend, calling after them, "That is not the direction to Father's former study."

"I am aware," T'Varik called back, without looking back. She waited until she rounded a corner, when she stopped and offered C'Rash, "Please accept my apologies for her comments... and my warning that this is unlikely to be the last such example."

C'Rash slipped an arm around T'Varik's and smiled. "That was nothing; I should tell you what my relatives have said about

me

at Caitian Clan Gatherings." She gave her lover's arm a squeeze. "I didn't know that you and Sakuth had been

that

serious."

"The less said about Captain Sakuth, at any time, in any place, under any circumstances, the better." She stopped outside one door and slid it open, stepping within, the chemical lights reacting to their entry by coming to life.

C'Rash walked around; the room was well-maintained, but starkly furnished and almost free of any fresh scents. But she didn't have to be a Vulcan to recognise it as, "Your room, Marmalade? My mother would give up her tail to have a daughter with a room as clean as this."

"I was always organised by nature, as you may have guessed. After Mother died, Father encouraged us towards this... with varying degrees of success." T'Varik moved more slowly around the interior, stopping at the desk and chair, the bedside table, the wardrobe. When she stopped at the wardrobe, however, she slid open the door.

C'Rash smiled. "Is that where you kept your posters of sexy actors or musicians? Or do Vulcan girls moon over mathematicians and physicists?"

"None of the above." She withdrew a cylindrical instrument on a tripod, setting it out between them, staring intently at it.

Her lover drew closer, curious. "Is that a telescope?"

"Yes." T'Varik dropped to one knee beside it, her fingers reaching out to touch the main tube, the azimuth and altitude clamps, the eyepiece and various setting scales. Her voice took on a transfixed tone. "A present from Father. I had many questions about space, and was not content to simply accept what the educational texts provided." She even bent over the eyepiece and peered through it, though the cap was still covering the objective lens. "Father was an empiricist. He advised me to accept the knowledge that I was taught... but whenever possible, to also observe it myself first-hand."

She played with the focusing knobs along the sides. "I would often stay up outside at night, viewing local bodies such as P'Jem and Delta Vega, as well the occasional meteor showers, starships in orbit, and the like. Sometimes, Father would join me, identifying the various systems and providing stories about his travels to them while in Starfleet. I... cherished those times, that he shared with me, and no one else. I was selfish."

C'Rash leaned against a wall and crossed her arms, smiling warmly. "Not selfish, Marmalade. Just a cub appreciating the attention of a parent who loved her. I didn't know you were into astronomy."

T'Varik drew back from the instrument. "At first, yes, though later I recognised what it truly represented for me: a dream of a life beyond what was around me. Later, as I pestered my instructors for answers on this, and indeed many more subjects, I became fascinated more by the education process... hence my desire to become an instructor when I graduated from the Academy." She touched the main tube again. "But it began here, with this."

C'Rash studied T'Varik, liking this newly-uncovered aspect of her lover. "Did he know of your plans to join Starfleet before he died?"

"Yes," she replied absently, rising to her feet again. "He was in the minority in our household, however... at least, with those who displayed any interest in myself or my plans-"

The door slid open again, and a short, portly Vulcan male in plain white linen robes lightly stained with various colourful food sauces entered. He had olive skin, a rather stubby nose and shiny sable hair, and eyed C'Rash for a second, emotion flashing across his features, quickly suppressed as he focused on T'Varik. He offered the Vulcan Salute. "Peace and Long Life, Sister."

T'Varied copied him. "Live Long and Prosper, Brother." She dropped the gesture. "It is pleasing to see you. You look well."

He dropped his own hand and raised an eyebrow at her. "I am not fat, T'Varik."

"My remark was not about your weight, Pedalk."

"My Body Mass Index measurements confirm I am at an acceptable weight in terms of fat percentile," he informed her.

"I have no reason to doubt you, Brother-"

"My bone structure is demonstrably greater than others of my height and age. Clearly your prejudices against me go beyond your lack of appreciation with my art."

"I think you look great," C'Rash interjected.

Both Vulcans looked to her, T'Varik introducing, "Pedalk, this is my betrothed and shipmate, C'Rash. We are marrying tonight at the Registry Office in the city, after our business here is concluded."

Pedalk finally acknowledging her... sucking in his stomach as he did so.

C'Rash hid a smirk.

Oh Uncle Esek, you might have a friend here...

"Pleasure to meet you, Pedalk. T'Varik's told me you're a writer, with a unique style. I'd love to read some of your work."

"You would?"

C'Rash approached him, smiling and ignoring T'Varik's reaction. "Of course! It'd be quite an accomplishment to tell people I have a brother-in-law who's an actual published novelist!"

Pedalk puffed up visibly, looking to his sister again. "She is a vast improvement over your previous paramour, who referred to me as a 'talentless imbecile who should be banned from possessing any means of publishing his drivel'." He nodded to C'Rash. "I will arrange for a hardbound collection of my novels in Federation Standard to be delivered." He returned to T'Varik. "Provide me with the address of your hotel accommodation... and I will also include the audiobooks, narrated by myself."

"You are being too generous," his sister informed him flatly.

From the open doorway, an unfamiliar male voice reached them. "Pedalk, have you located T'Varik, or have you managed to get yourself lost here as she obviously has?"

C'Rash smirked. "Xanax, I presume? I didn't know he had a funny side."

T'Varik looked to her. "He does not. He is being serious."