Surefoot 03: Field Trip

USS Surefoot, Deck 3, Cargo Bay 1:

Captain Hrelle ignored the ache in his back to bend down, grasp the sides of the crate of duranium plating, and lifted, cursing inside. He should get himself an antigrav handle and make it easier for himself - except that none of the remaining members of his crew, currently making space here for the relics being beamed up from Luntanu, were using one. And yes, they were all younger than he was, but still-

"You should lift with your legs."

He turned, the weight of the crate momentarily forgotten at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. "Excuse me, uh-"

It was a human female, middle-aged, olive-skinned, with a mass of curly black hair, freckled cheeks, a pert nose and wide cheekbones. She wore rough-hewn, sand-coloured civilian work clothes and boots, and a warm, genuine smile as she regarded him. "Your legs. You should lift with them. They look sturdy enough."

Hrelle stared at her, lifting the crate up to rest it on one shoulder, holding it there with one arm, as if to challenge the notion that he couldn't manage it. "You're one of the Luntanu team, yes? I mean, of course you are, you're not a crewman or cadet, and there's no one else around for light-years, so by process of elimination, you must be, even I can work that out, and I'm definitely not the brightest star in the Quadrant." He stopped and shook his head, having said all that in one breath.

She nodded, her smile becoming a grin as she approached. "Professor Barbara Gianopoulis. You're obviously Captain Esek Hrelle."

He nodded back, recognising her name from the mission briefing as the current leader of the archaeological team on the planet; to be honest, he recalled little else, being more focused on their other reason for being there: setting the three squads of cadets out on their first Away Mission on Luntanu, running planetary surveys. The woman's scent reached his nostrils; it was pleasing. "My apologies, Professor, I wasn't expecting you."

"Regulations. Someone from our team needs to be here when the relics are beamed up, to check on their safety and security."

"Of course, though I'd have thought that would have been a job for one of your people."

She smiled. "I could say the same about you, moving around crates like a spacedock stevedore." She nodded at it. "Isn't that getting heavy?"

"What, this? I could lift a hundred of them," he boasted, grunting as she shifted it on his shoulder again. "Maybe two hundred. I just don't like showing off."

"Obviously. You don't mind if I help you with it? Just to make myself feel useful?"

Hrelle hefted it off his shoulder again, grunting once more. "Well, if you insist..."

Barbara and he continued assisting with moving more crates, clearing one secure area of the bay until the cargo transporter started beaming up the relics, Barbara checking each one as it arrived. As they did so, they made small talk, while Hrelle noted with approval that despite being the one in charge, Barbara wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty, figuratively or otherwise, a trait he appreciated.

Once they were done, he nodded to her. "I forgot to check what time you were running on planetside. Are you hungry?"

Barbara grinned. "Any time's a good time to eat."

And she proved it, tucking into a big plate of replicated ribs in a sticky honey sauce, making noises of unabashed delight, before wiping her mouth on a napkin and declaring, "I could almost join Starfleet just for this. Our replicators on Luntanu can't produce anything of this quality." She indicated a few as-yet-untouched ribs on her plate.

Hrelle sat opposite her, cradling a cup of coffee. "No thanks, I tried them once. No matter how careful I am, that sticky sauce somehow gets into my fur. In places you wouldn't believe possible."

She held up one of the ribs playfully, smiling. "Are you sure? I could promise to wash you down afterwards."

He stared, smiling back. "No thanks, you go ahead. I like seeing a satisfied woman."

"I'm sure you do." She took back the rib. "But if there's anything else I can tempt you with..."

He leaned back, regarding the look she was giving him. It had been a while, but... now he shook his head. He was imagining it. "So... what's it like being an archaeology professor?"

Barbara was licking her fingers. "Do you really want to know?" She looked up at him again. "Or is that just an excuse to keep me around here?"

He sipped at his coffee, giving himself a moment. "Do I need an excuse?"

Her smile widened - but then something caught her eye, and she looked away. Hrelle followed her gaze. "Counselor!"

Kami was standing there, coffee in hand, looking at both of them in turn. "Captain... sorry to interrupt..."

He rose to his feet. "Counselor, allow me to introduce Professor Barbara Gianopoulis, head of the team at Luntanu. Professor, this is our Ship's Counselor, Kami Shall."

The Professor rose as well, holding out a hand. "Pleasure, Counselor."

For a moment, Kami didn't move to accept the hand. But then she responded, though Hrelle saw that there was a measure of forced propriety in her gesture. "Sorry to interrupt, Captain, just wanted to let you know the cadets have all landed safely and set up their various base camps around the lake."

"Thank you. Did you want to sit with us? I was just-"

"No thanks." She nodded at Barbara. "Nice meeting you."

He watched her leave, before sitting down again, suddenly feeling awkward for some reason. "Apologies for that, Professor. She's usually a lot more friendly than that."

She shrugged, still smiling. "No need to apologise. So, what's it like being a starship captain?"

He made an amused sound. "Do you really want to know? Or is that just an excuse to stay around here?"

She licked her fingers. "Do I need an excuse?"

"No," he told her emphatically.

"I'd like to hear anyway."

So he talked, surprising himself with how much he said, his mouth moving at Warp Ten as he went on about the Surefoot, and the cadets and Sasha and how proud he was of her, returning to his memories of her as a child, and of Hannah, and though he couldn't keep the edge of sadness in his voice or his eyes, and he avoided much detail of her death and his time as a captive, still he talked, feeling comfortable with the woman sitting across the table from him.

Until he suddenly felt self-conscious. "I'm... I'm sorry, Professor-"

"It's Barbara. What are you sorry about?"

"Well, you didn't exactly ask for my life story."

"Well, technically I did." She smiled, reaching across the table and touching his hand, absently stroking the short fur on the back of it. "And I'm not rushing out of here so far, am I?"

His head spun, and he almost shuddered with pleasure at her touch. "Doesn't look like it-"

Suddenly his combadge chirped, and he slapped it with annoyance. "Hrelle here."

The voice of his First Officer responded. "Commander T'Varik, Sir. It is 1601 Hours."

He rolled his eyes. He was on Beta Shift bridge duty! "Apologies, Commander, I'm on my way." He slapped the comlink shut, looking to Barbara. "I'm sorry, I lost complete track of the time! I've kept you here for hours!"

The woman laughed softly. "I haven't minded one bit - and not just because of the food. But... if you still feel guilty, you can make it up to me later, when you come visit our camp, and see how bad food can taste coming from thirty-year-old replicators."

"I like a challenge. But I'm on duty until midnight."

"An early breakfast, then? You can be there to see the suns rise." A sly smile curled her lips. "And if it'd be more convenient, you can always beam down after your shift and sleep planetside. I'm sure I can find a place for you."

His heart raced, blood pumped... everywhere it was supposed to go. In a slightly higher-pitched voice than normal, he rose. "I'd best escort you to the transporter room."

His head was clearing somewhat as they walked around to the appropriate area; it was quieter now, emptier, with the cadets on the planet and the already-small crew pulling double duties in their absence. They entered the transporter room, finding it empty, as Hrelle expected, not needing someone manning it unless necessary. "I can do this. I'll even get you down there in one piece."

"Only if you promise to check me over later to make sure everything is where it's supposed to be."

Now he stopped, standing before her and staring. "I'm going to feel like every shade a fool if I'm wrong about this, because it's been a long, long time, but... there is something going on between us, yes? I'm not just imagining it? Because if I'm saying all this and I got it totally wrong, I'm gonna find a hole to climb in and pull the covers up over me."

Barbara smiled back, moving close and putting her arms around his waist, before rising slightly towards his muzzle and kissing it gently.

Hrelle dipped his head down into the left side of her face, drawing her scent in deeply as he nuzzled into her, purring against her skin and relishing her reaction.

Then he caught a scent from her he hadn't picked up from a human female in a long, long time.

Mother's Cubs...

He arrived on the bridge, somewhat calmer than before, as Commander T'Varik rose from the centre seat and faced him. "Was there a problem that delayed you, Sir?"

"Apologies for the tardiness, T'Varik, I was speaking with that professor from Luntanu."

She nodded in understanding, proceeding to her own station to their right, Hrelle following. "Professor Gianopoulis is an accomplished archaeologist. I would not be amiss to engaging in an extended conversation with her myself before our departure."

He smiled. "Yes. Me too." Then he frowned, remembering Kami's reaction to the woman. "Pity our Counselor didn't seem to share the same enthusiasm." When he saw a reaction in T'Varik's expression, he was prompted to ask, "What is it?"

The Vulcan hesitated before replying, sotto voce. "I would not wish to be perceived as being, as humans say, 'gossipy', however it would be logical for you to have further information. Any negative attitude on the Counselor's part might be symptomatic of her history with the Federation Archaeological Council."

"History? What history?"

"Her late husband was a Starfleet security officer assigned to the Council, protecting ancient sites. He was killed eight years ago by raiders at one particular site. Her personnel records should provide more detail."

The information struck him. He never knew that about Kami. She was always so forward, frequently annoyingly so; the idea that there was something like that in her past was... He resolved to speak with her later. "Thank you for letting me know."

His attention returned to T'Varik's station screens, which produced aerial scans of the three cadet landing sites, with thermal images and combadge signals identifying bodies standing still or milling about, while another panel recorded the combadge communications between the various squad members. "You told them there would be no supervision."

"Supervision implies an interactive exchange. This is monitoring."

"Oh, I see. Big difference. And how are they doing?"

The Vulcan was catching up with the collected data. "Beta and Gamma Squads have sent Away Team members out to collect the planetary data. Alpha Squad is still apparently offloading the Arctic weather equipment they brought with them." She looked to him. "You were correct in your suspicion that they would try to determine more about their landing location. May I ask how?"

He smiled. "Whenever I would read Sasha a bedtime story, she would always sneak a peek ahead beforehand, to see what was going to happen, and prepare herself for it. She'd then tell me how she thought the story should end, and I would pretend to be all amazed at how clever she was for figuring it out."

"And how do you believe she will react when they discover that their replicator will produce only Type 1 Rations?"

He chuckled, saying nothing.

*

Alpha Squad Base Camp, Planet Luntanu, 1030 Hours Local Time:

Sasha tried to swallow the bite of beef stroganoff bar in her mouth. She really tried. But a memory of the time when she was six and tried to eat dirt from a strawberry garden on Station Salem Four returned, and she spat it out. "Eydiir, when we get back to the Surefoot and I see my father, I'll want to borrow that Capellan throwing blade of yours."

Her friend ignored her, helping to steady the portable toilet/sonic shower that Neraxis and Jonas had just set up, not too near the overnight shelters, though modern technology allowed for a completely hygienic experience within.

Sasha wiped the sweat from her forehead for the twentieth time since arriving as she glanced around the lush, verdant jungle environment where they had been sent. Leaves of a million shades of green and purple formed a canopy, criss-crossed with browning vines that hung limply in their centres. The shadows beyond were a cacophony of animal sounds, as if all were complaining about the oppressive heat being trapped within by the overwhelming plant life. The scents of the jungle were equally overwhelming.

She smacked herself in the face for the twentieth time too as another insect landed on her and started feasting. Little bastards.

"So," Neraxis began, setting another heating unit down outside the shuttle. "Should I get these bad boys running so we don't die of frostbite before nightfall?"

She ignored the joke from the Bolian, wishing they'd brought some other clothes than their uniforms and the cold weather suits. The material was designed to provide comfort over a wide variety of temperatures, but clearly no one had ever been to Luntanu, or they would have gone back to the drawing board. She cleared her throat and called out. "Okay, boys and girls, gather round."

From inside and around the shuttle, the rest of her squad - Neraxis, Jonas, Giles, Eydiir and Kit - emerged and approached. "I want to get started as soon as possible. We'll split up into two teams. Giles, you, Kit and Eydiir will run the Natural Sciences scans: Biology, Biochemistry, Botany, etc..."

"We should start at the lake, Respected Friends, life gathers well at bodies of water," Kit suggested, pausing to look up, opening his wide reptilian mouth enough to let an impossibly long, bright pink extension shoot out, catch and retrieve an insect, swallowing quickly.

"I didn't think your tongue was that long," Jonas remarked, impressed.

Kit caught another insect before replying, "I have two tongues, Friend Jonas. My feeding tongue is far longer, and highly accurate after a lifetime of practice.."

"Please be my boyfriend," Neraxis asked, grinning.

"You may wish to refrain from ingesting the local insects until we have run appropriate scans," Eydiir informed the Qarari.

"She's right, Kit, hold off for now," Sasha continued, not in the mood for jocularity. "Take the appropriate science tricorders and specimen collection equipment. Giles, secure yourself a phaser. You'll be in charge of your team."

"He will?" Eydiir asked, her feelings clear.

"Yes, he will," Sasha snapped. "And I want you to treat him the way you would treat me. My father trusts him... and so do I."

Something curious crossed Giles' face - was it embarrassment, or even shame? - but he recovered quickly, and they needed to get moving, as Sasha continued. "I'll be leading Neraxis and Jonas over to the more open areas near the slopes to the south-west, running the Physical Sciences scans: geology, mineralogy, climatology. Neraxis will take the other phaser.

Both parties will also run additional scans on any ruins or other evidence of the former civilisation here, as and when you find them. Stay in contact every fifteen minutes. And watch out for the other Squads, from what we saw coming down, they're in the general area too."

"I would also recommend carrying water from the shuttle's replicator unit," Eydiir pointed out. "And I shouldn't have to warn against eating or drinking anything native until proper biochemical tests have been-"

The Capellan stopped as Kit's tongue shot out and grabbed another buzzing bug.

Everyone looked at him.

He made a visible show of swallowing. "They are delicious, Respected Friends. How bad can such delicious things be?"

*

USS Surefoot, Deck 2, Counselor's Office, 2000 Hours Ship Time:

"Enter."

Hrelle stepped inside, letting the door slide shut behind him. "Counselor, I-" He stared at her, before looking away. "Have I come at a bad time?"

She was sitting behind her desk, her feet up on it, leaning back in her chair with an old-fashioned book in her lap. She smiled. "No, the best time, actually. I need your help."

Her musk was strong in her room, perhaps not enough for others with less keen senses, but... He entered. "With what?"

She wriggled all her big toes; unlike most humanoids, who possessed equal numbers of fingers and toes on each appendage, Caitians possessed three big toes on their feet, and because of the overall padding and musculature, preferred to go about barefoot, though Hrelle typically didn't. "Rub."

"Excuse me?"

"They're aching, and I haven't had a decent foot massage from a male in a long time."

"Massage your feet? Kiss my furry ass!"

"Come on, don't be a sodbox. Think of it as therapy."

"Therapy? For whom?"

She raised one foot, still wiggling the toes, beckoning him.

He shook his head and approached, sitting up on her desk while she set her feet on his lap. "I can't imagine any other starship captain doing this."

"Neither can I. And that's why you're the best." She purred shamelessly as his fingers worked around her toes and pads. "That's good. Nothing like a dirty book and a male working at your feet. The females of your clan taught you how to do this, didn't they?"

He nodded. "The few that we had. All part of grooming a potential mate."

"I can tell; my husband could make me melt from my toes upwards. A male who can work a female's feet, neck or back is definitely going to be equally talented in all the other places." She purred some more, and then finally asked, "So, what can I do for you, Captain? Shouldn't you be on the bridge?"

"I'm on a meal break. Also, I'm the Captain, I can do what I want. And what I want now to check up on you."

She raised an eyebrow as she set aside her book. "Me? What for?"

"Well..." Suddenly he wondered if he had made too much of her initial reaction to meeting Barbara. "You're a part of my crew as well. I worry about you. After all, who counsels the Counselor if something is bothering her?"

"Not that I wouldn't mind you staying here all day massaging my feet and babbling, but is there a point to all this?"

He breathed in. "Well, our current mission is with archaeologists at a planetary site, and given your... personal history-"

Then it seemed to dawn on her, given the change in her expression and voice. "You were worried about me. That's sweet." It could have been mocking, but she sounded sincere.

"I never realised until earlier that we shared that much in common: the loss of a partner in Starfleet. You never mentioned it."

"Sometimes it's good to share such things, to show a person they're not alone in how they might be feeling. Other times, though, it can threaten to focus the attention on the doctor, not the patient." She leaned back further; he could see her tail, slipped though the hole in the back of her chair, swishing about as she regarded him. "Are you here because I didn't stick around with you and the Professor? Did you think I was upset over any memories I might have had about Rmorra resurfacing?"

He felt himself flush. "Well, I suppose-"

Kami smiled. "I left because it was obvious I was going to be unwelcome. You two were fascinated with each other, you didn't need me around."