"USS Surefoot, Captain's Personal Log, Stardate 36299.93, Captain Esek Hrelle, Commanding: Our ship has stopped just outside the Malbruk System, where a Federation archaeological operation was established on the second planet. Our cadets believe we are here to run diagnostic tests on the Sensor Buoys on the system's outer perimeter.
In fact, we will also be engaging in a mandatory Grey Alert test. I'm sure that when the cadets hear about it they'll treat it as some Great Adventure. For those of us who have undergone many Grey Alert scenarios before and prefer our creature comforts... not so much.
We are also taking the opportunity to collect our latest cadet, a Caitian male, who is replacing Giles Arrington as Alpha Squad's pilot, now that Giles has been promoted to Beta Squad Leader. Hrelle out."
Sitting across from him, cleaning her claws, Kami looked up and smirked. "Seven Hells, that's what you call a 'Personal Log'? Are they all that boring?"
"No, some get exceptionally filthy. Especially when detailing the fantasies I have of you."
"Oh, I wish that were true," she smiled. "I'd loved to think of historians in the distant future imagining what I was like in real life to warrant such dirty thoughts."
"Do you really think historians in the distant future are going to care about the personal musings of a man in charge of ferrying supplies and training cadets?"
"And rescuing Malurian children from slavery?" she reminded him.
Hrelle stopped grousing, unable to do anything but silently concede that point. It had been almost two weeks since the incident with the freighter and the slave trafficking operation they had stumbled upon and stopped, but it was still fresh in his mind. Not just the children they had rescued, but the Nausicaans he had killed with his bare hands, to protect his stepdaughter and the rest of Alpha Squad. Kami had been helping him face what he had seen and done.
Now he looked over at the drawing that had been transmitted to him from Starbase 154, where the children had been transferred for their eventual reunion with their families: a colourful depiction of himself and Kami as the popular children's characters Fat Cat and Lil' Kitten, done by one of the children he had helped rescue. It reminded him of the drawings Sasha used to do of him, a lifetime ago-
Then he looked away, reaching up and swiping back the fur behind his left ear again. Too many memories he wasn't prepared to deal with. Too much introspection.
He snapped out of it as Kami rose from her chair and leaned over his desk, her fur-tipped tail rising behind her, swaying as if from an errant breeze, her honey eyes fixed on him as she rested her muzzle on her fist and regarded him. "I just saw a whole wave of something flash before your eyes, Captain. What was it?"
"Nothing."
"Come on, talk." She smiled again. "If you do, I'll show you my boobs."
"I've seen your boobs."
"And aren't they worth looking at again?"
Hrelle leaned back in his chair, turning it to keep his left side away from her as he nodded at the picture. "I remember when Sasha used to do pictures like these for me, and I'd frame them and put them on the bridge of the Furyk. It wasn't that long ago - was it? Now she's all grown up, out here doing her mother and me proud. What in the Seven Hells happened?"
She smiled. "I know. It felt like yesterday when I was chasing my cub around to put him in the bath. Now I've heard from him: he's getting married later this year."
"Congratulations!" he beamed. "When is it? Is it corresponding with the Academy break? If not, I'll make arrangements for a substitute Counselor-"
"Never mind that now, we're talking about you."
"There's nothing to talk about. I was merely contemplating the passage of time."
"Oh? And what about that grey fur behind your left ear?"
He started, glaring at her. "I was trying to keep you from noticing that."
She smiled. "I've noticed it for days now. Is that what's bothering you? Signs of age finally appearing?"
Hrelle didn't answer - because she was right. Since that fight on the freighter, which had left him more winded and aching than any previous fight had done, he had felt a creeping realisation suffusing him that he was not the young man he once was.
He had been a physical wreck when he had escaped slavery, but medical science had dealt with most of the issues that had arisen all those years. But now it was like time was conspiring to compensate for what science had given him back. He began seeing all the other signs: the skin creases under the fur indicative of wrinkles, the aches in his muscles, the decrease in the sharpness of his hearing and other senses. And, of course, the greying fur.
The chirp from his combadge pulled him from his thoughts, and he responded gratefully. "Hrelle here."
"Commander T'Varik, Sir. The shuttle with the new cadet has arrived, and as our shuttlebay is full, it is currently docking at Airlock 1."
"On our way." He tapped the combadge again, not trying too hard to look disappointed. "Oh dear, duty calls. We'll have to reschedule this another time. I am so sorry, Counselor."
She sneered. "Like you weren't waiting for that." She straightened up, her expression growing more sober. "Don't think this is finished, Mister Grey."
"Of course it isn't - you still owe me a look at your boobs."
*
Shuttlebay Airlock 1:
Squad Leader Sasha Hrelle tugged at the sleeves and hem of her uniform, feeling nervous and not knowing why. Maybe it was the official nature of this occasion; she had arrived with the other cadets to the Surefoot, none of them knowing who would be made Squad Leader until they were actually onboard, allowing them to socialise and get to know each other better first and break the ice. This was the first time she was going to meet another cadet from the outside, and in her formal capacity.
Or maybe it was just the First Officer watching her curiously. "Are you the victim of what humans call a 'practical joke'?"
"Practical joke? What do you mean?"
"I once disciplined an upperclassman at the Academy who had a penchant for reprogramming synthesisers to produce freshmen uniforms that were too small, lined with irritants - or would fall apart during parades." But there was something in T'Varik's expression that told Sasha it was just her dry attempt at humour.
Sasha stopped fidgeting. "Sorry, Commander. I just want to make a good impression on the New Kid. I'm going in blind here, metaphorically speaking, since you've chosen not to reveal anything about our new Flight Conn Specialist for some illogical reason."
The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. "Ms Hrelle, I can assure you that there is nothing that I do that does not have at least some logical rationalisation behind it. And I chose to keep the details about Cadet Rrori from you to prevent any preconceptions being formed about him. I would remind you about the preconceptions you and Mr Arrington held about each other, before your relationship... evolved?"
Sasha blushed, finding something else to look at besides her superior officer. It was an open secret onboard that her relationship with Giles had become physical, helped by the fact that with his promotion, he was no longer under her command and thus risking accusations of favouritism. But while their subsequent... meetings... were infrequent, the same could not be said for the rumours and jokes now circulating. Fortunately, T'Varik's Vulcan decorum minimised the ridicule-
"Morning, Runt of the Litter!" Hrelle declared as he strode up to them, frowning at Sasha's resumed fidgeting. "What's wrong? Giles give you crabs?"
She gasped, feeling herself turn seven shades of red. "Fuck off, Dad!"
