Surefoot 14: Shakedown

Hrelle nodded in gratitude, turning to T'Varik. "I want a briefing in the Ready Room in 20 minutes, all departments-"

"Sir," Neheru interrupted, looking alarmed. "Sickbay have requested you come immediately. It's the Counselor."

A chill ran through him, and he only had to look at T'Varik long enough to get the nod from her before he was out through the doors, barely waiting for them to open up enough.

*

His heart rate doubled as he entered, seeing Kami in the Isolation Unit, pacing around like a caged animal, looking annoyed but not injured. Nearby, Dr Klein was administering something in hyposprays to a line of disoriented-looking crewmembers, as Dr Ling and Cadet Eydiir stood near the Isolation door. "What's happened? Is she okay? The cub?"

Ling held up a reassuring hand. "The Counselor fell and banged her head on a tabletop; that's been patched. The foetus is fine, too... for now."

"For now? What does that mean?"

Ling looked to her Medical cadet. "Go on, you're the one who discovered it."

The tall Capellan girl looked pale and shaken as the rest of them, but to her credit composed herself to report. "The sonic attack we underwent had a component of infrasound - vibrations at frequencies below the range normally perceived by the hearing of most humanoids, and more felt than anything else. I wrote a paper once on infrasound and historical concerns about the biological effects of exposure to it; the reported effects mimicked what we felt, including loss of bodily functions, nausea, experience of seemingly supernatural events like ghosts and hallucinations-."

"That isn't telling me why Kami is in Isolation!"

"Sir," Ling continued, "Can I assume that we might face another attack like the last one?"

"It's possible."

"Then I recommend keeping the Counselor in there as a precaution, for the sake of the foetus."

"Captain, there wasn't much research on the effects of infrasound on foetal development," Eydiir admitted gravely. "But what there was... was not good. It included a strong danger of miscarriage. The Isolation Unit's bafflers will protect it."

He nodded. "You've sold me. Thank you, she stays in there for the time being."

"Esek," Kami protested, catching his attention. "I have work to do! I'll be fine!"

"You can conduct any work in there," he assured her, "Let them come visit you. It'll be just as private and secure as your office."

"I can't spend my life wrapped up in cotton-"

Suddenly he slammed his fist against the clearsteel panel. "I have enough to worry about without adding you two to the mix, IS THAT CLEAR?" Almost immediately, his anger was eclipsed with anxiety. "Please, Kami. Indulge me this one time..."

She regarded him, reaching up and placing her furred hand on the clearsteel, where his fist remained. "I'll stay here, I promise." She touched her belly with her other hand. "The Bump and I will both be waiting for you to take us home."

His own hand opened up and mirrored hers. "Thank you." Then he turned back to Ling. "Staff meeting in ten minutes, in my Ready Room, send someone up there if you can. I have to go get changed."

*

Hrelle's Ready Room, like most everything else onboard, was an improvement on the old ship, and he was especially eager to test out the holocommunicator pad on the floor beside his desk. Now, however, his focus was on the people around the table. "So, no serious medical issues among the crew?"

Klein had appeared on behalf of the Medical team. "No, Captain; I have administered anaprovaline to deal with the headaches and nausea, and variants for the more severe neurological symptoms. The infrasonic effects have ranged significantly according to race, age and general fitness." He took on a smug expression. "Being Klingon, I have proven to be the most resistant to the effects."

"That's good to hear," Hrelle noted dryly. "If you only knew how to operate the ship single-handedly, you could fly us into the nearest sun and straight to Sto-Vo-Kor."

"Doctor," T'Varik asked, "What would the effects of a sustained attack be?"

His smugness evaporated. "It would have killed all of you," he said simply, with reluctance amending it to, "All of us. Klingons are resistant, not immune. Had you not withdrawn when you did-"

"How did we do that, anyway?" Velkovsky asked. "Because when that attack hit us, I was on the floor and couldn't reach the helm."

"I am afraid it was my doing, Lieutenant," Neheru confessed, looking somewhat abashed at the attention now on him. "I have of late been experimenting with designing an emergency helm control to be used in the event of the bridge crew being incapacitated at a critical time - I believe such failsafes were once called 'dead man's switches' - and had one in place when we entered the nebula."

"Lieutenant," T'Varik began, "As laudable and efficacious as your override system was, you were not authorised to implement such a control without prior clearance and proper tests-"

"We can discuss this later," Hrelle interrupted. "Have we any clue as to how we were attacked? How can sound even travel through space?"

"My turn, I think," C'Rash brought up some images from her PADD, displaying them on the main screen beside the table. A vessel appeared, resembling a Klingon Bird of Prey in size and shape, but with subfeatures more recognisable as either Starfleet or general Federation design. "Here are some images taken from outside our ship. You might recognise the Ju'Day-Class raider, a medium-level fighter popular among private security firms and local colonial forces."

Klein cursed. "A theft of one of our own designs!"

C'Rash nodded. "Hence the use of 'Ju'Day', the Klingon word for 'Stolen'. Now, normally a Ju'Day would be no match for a Saber, but the interior of the nebula, blocking standard scanners, targeting systems and transporters, tends to even out the odds a little. Now, watch what they do when they draw closer..."

They watched, seeing two round magnetic plates being fired from an array on the underside of the raider, plates connected to heavy-looking cables fed from the array. The plates attached themselves to the starboard-fore section of the Surefoot, where Neheru reported the impact damage; the set-up reminded Hrelle of the grapplers ships once employed before the days of tractor beam technology.

"These plates are resonators," C'Rash continued, "Once they clamp onto the hull of their target, the pirates could transmit the sonic and infrasonic waves, which will travel unimpeded to every part of the ship; the Isolation Unit appears to be the only secure area. The cables also allow them to reel themselves in close to their victims, ultimately attaching themselves directly and using cutter beams to enter and loot us. They were in the process of doing this when we unexpectedly withdrew."

"But how did they locate us in the nebula in the first place?" Neheru asked. "No standard sensors can operate within this type of phenomenon; that is why it is listed as a navigational threat, and the general lack of light makes conventional visual means impractical."

"Wait." C'Rash rose to her feet, staring hard at the image of the raider. Then she asked, "Close your eyes. All of you."

Hrelle glanced at a bemused T'Varik.

"Come on," the young Caitian urged. "Humour me."

He sighed, shrugged, and closed his eyes, expecting others to do the same. Seconds later, he heard what he identified as a PADD sailed through the air and hit the far corner of the room and slid down behind the couch. He expected that was his cue to open his eyes again, and found the others did the same.

C'Rash was still standing, bereft of her PADD. "Where did it go?"

"2.27 metres behind and to your left," T'Varik replied. "If you are suggesting the pirates are employing a sonic-based detection system, I should not need to point out that sound waves do not travel through the medium of space, hence their use of the resonator clamps."

"But sound waves do travel through the medium of gas, such as in the nebula. The vibration of impulse engines, of heat and waste vents, even the slight expansion and compression of parts of a vessel as they enter and leave areas of heat or cold." She pointed at the image of the Ju'Day. "Those objects on the tips of the wings look like passive acoustic detectors, using sound to determine the distance and direction of the source without alerting the source. I've seen very similar perimeter security devices employed planetside along the Cardassian border.

Now, having those on your spaceship is usually pointless as you pointed out, Commander, but I'm betting they can employ them for tracking another ship in the nebula."

Hrelle's jaw tightened; even if the infrasonics were employed outside of the nebula, it could still be a potentially devastating weapon against a vulnerable target. Within the nebula, the Kingdom of the Blind, where the pirates were the One-Eyed Men... "Okay. What do we do about it? What are our options?"

C'Rash shrugged. "Not be around. Don't let strange ships attach things to our hull. Go for backup. There you go, three options."

"I have a fourth: go back in there, disable their weapon and stop them." He looked to T'Varik. "Assemble the cadets, everyone with Engineering, Science and Medical primary and secondary studies."

"What?" C'Rash snorted. "You expect a bunch of shavetails to sort this out?"

"These are no ordinary cadets; they are brilliant in their respective fields. And they're eager to do their job - unlike you." To T'Varik he added, "Keep them focused on the task, don't let them get sidetracked. We need a solution we can apply here and now, and quickly."

C'Rash tapped on the tabletop with a claw. "Hey, Esek! Aren't you listening to me?"

He glanced at her. "I'm better equipped to respond when you use proper protocol, Lieutenant."

"Go get help! Backup! There's plenty of ships to call on: The Iberia, the Tortuga, the Columbia-"

"That is not possible, Lieutenant Shall," T'Varik informed her. "Those vessels you mentioned have their own vital assignments. Further, we are scheduled to rendezvous with the Winterborn in 9.5 hours, to receive its cargo for eventual transfer to our ships on the Arkady Cluster. She would be a prime target for the pirates, and delay re-equipping the ships patrolling the Cluster."

"We can't get backup," Hrelle concluded, "Out here, we are the backup."

C'Rash folded her arms across her chest. "Nice line. Did it add a few extra centimetres to your piece? I'm sure Aunt Kami will be pleased."

Hrelle regarded her, and without looking away ordered, "Commander T'Varik, Lt Shall is relieved of duty pending a Counseling evaluation. Doctor Klein, please escort the Lieutenant to Sickbay and lock her in with my wife. If she gives you any trouble, spank her. Lt Shall, that is, not my wife. My wife would kick your ass back to Qo'nos."

The Klingon made an amused sound and rose to his impressive height. C'Rash rose too, glaring at Hrelle, but saying nothing further as both of them left the Ready Room.

Hrelle looked to Neheru. "Bring the next shift up two hours earlier than expected; I want people on working at peak efficiency. And prepare more of your dead man's switches for when we re-enter the nebula. Dismissed."

As the Kelpien departed, leaving Hrelle alone with T'Varik, he turned to his First Officer. "Update Starfleet Command on our status, include all data on this sonic weapon. And while you're at it, run an audit trail on the source of the orders transferring C'Rash here. It can't be a coincidence that she showed up here."

"Do you wish me to order a replacement for her as well?"

"No." He stared at the door. "Maybe Kami can straighten her out."

"One would hope so, for the sake of her continuing career. She is at times professional and self-destructive; I cannot imagine how she might have graduated from the Academy with such an attitude. The dichotomy is puzzling."

Hrelle smiled and leaned back, letting his tail drift up to his lap. "Did I ever tell you about the first time I met Kami? I had escaped captivity two weeks before, was still reeling from years of physical and mental abuse, I had learned my wife had been killed, that Sasha had grown up without her mother, and that I was facing a Starfleet hearing. I wanted to wallow in my bitterness and self-pity, and Kami was the third Counselor they sent to try and get through to me.

I wasn't having any of it. I warned her, warned her that I was a monster, that I hurt people, and if she didn't leave me alone, I'd hurt her too. She seemed to take the hint and started to leave... but then doubled over in agony, claiming it was because of her baby."

T'Varik expression furrowed. "I was unaware that she was pregnant at that time."

He smiled at her. "She wasn't. It was a ruse to distract me, to shake me out of my self-imposed funk. I get the same feeling from C'Rash; this Bad Girl act is just that, an act. Why, I don't know. But if anyone can cut through the crap to find the truth, it's my wife."

*

Kami was on her feet, eyes narrow, hackles raised and tail swishing in agitation as Klein led C'Rash into the Isolation Unit. "Oh, has my misbegotten husband decided to lock up all the Caitians onboard, or is it just the females?"

The Klingon smirked at her. "She has been suspended from duty. The Captain wants you to evaluate her."

"Oh, does he? Well, you can give him this evaluation: Hab SoSlI' Quch! And it goes double for you, p'takh!"

Klein chuckled and stepped back. "Why don't you calm down, Counselor? I'll bring you some herbal tea." He departed and closed the door in time, laughing, as the chair she threw at him bounced off the clearsteel surface.

Kami was panting, teeth and claws bared as she paced in a tight circle. "That bastard mate of mine! How dare he lock me up in here like an animal! Who does he think he is? I'll contact my mother, she'll skin him alive!"

C'Rash stared warily, never having seen her aunt in such a state before. "Listen, the doctors say that the infrasound waves are dangerous to cubs in the womb-"

Kami stopped and glared at the younger Caitian. "Are you taking his side, bitch? After he did the same to you?"

"No! I mean, my reasons for being here are different-"

Kami snarled. "The son of a bitch has been like this since he heard I was pregnant! Always watching out for me, making sure I eat only healthy foods, I don't strain myself."

C'Rash shrugged. "Males are always like that. They're natural carers, that's why most of them stay at home."

"But what about him? I have a duty to watch over him, make sure he's safe! I can't do that when he leaves me behind!"

"Aunt Kami, he's a big boy, he knows what he's doing, he can take care of himself. You have to trust his judgement."

Kami strode up to her. "You think so? He's gonna go over to that Cardassian ship, and get himself killed!"

"No, he-" C'Rash frowned. "What?"

Kami suddenly picked up the chair she had flung at the door, set it upright, and straddled it backwards, folding her arms over the back and resting her chin on her forearms. "No, wait, that isn't Captain Hrelle, is it? That's Captain Jason Myrick, of the Cutlass. Your first ship, and your Commanding Officer."

The younger Caitian stepped back. "Shut up."

"You were his protégé, according to the Counselors' reports sent to me. He was very important to you, for several years. But when he went over to that Cardassian ship to arrange for an exchange of prisoners of war at the end of the conflict, for once he refused to let you accompany him. Which turned out for the best, at least for you; a rogue Cardassian with a grudge from the war killed him."

"Shut up!"

But the Counselor continued. "You appeared at the Starfleet inquest and tried to claim responsibility for Myrick's death, for not protesting hard enough to come along. You claimed that if you had, he would still be alive. The inquest found differently, and rightfully so. But you never accepted their verdict, and since then, you have tried to sabotage your career through acts of insubordination."

C'Rash bared her teeth now. "I'll rip your throat out!"

"No you won't. Anyway, you've managed to wear out welcomes on two other ships since then, and then out of the blue, you get this inexplicable transfer and promotion to us. Well, inexplicable, until I checked my mail and found an incoming message for Esek and me-"

C'Rash strode up to her, raising a hand with claws extended. "I'll-"

But Kami just raised her chin. "You'll do nothing. Even if you had it in you to hurt me, you've been in this enclosed space soaking in the pheromones I've been pumping out since I got here - especially with that fake outburst from before. Hurting me is the last thing you want to do."

C'Rash ground her teeth, eyes narrowed with rage - before she turned and stormed into the far corner, slinking down and facing away. "You kussik."

Kami smiled. "If I had a credit for every time I've been called that... or an equivalent body part..."

*

Hrelle resisted the urge for the hundredth time to interrupt the brainstorming session, before rising from behind his desk as T'Varik and several of the cadets entered. "Well? You worked out a countermeasure?"

The Vulcan straightened up "Not... directly, Sir."

"What? Is that a joke, Commander?"

"Hardly, Sir. The Surefoot possesses exterior acoustic speakers for public communication during planetfalls, and we have attempted to adapt these to form a counterfrequency, but our efforts were unsuccessful."

"Sir," Jonas Ostrow spoke up, smiling, "We can't stop the weapon with what we have, but we can knock out their delivery system, hit those magnetic resonance plates before they can get attached to us."

"That's all well and good, Jonas, but they have an advantage over us in navigating and tracking within the nebula - unless we can duplicate their acoustic sensors?"

"Well, Sir, we were thinking that instead of sound, maybe we should try scent?"

"Excuse me?"

"If I may, Mr Ostrow?" T'Varik ventured, taking over. "As you will already be aware, a scent is merely a collection of individual particles within the medium of air, water... or nebula gas. Particles that can be detected by olfactoral senses... or probe sensors that we can feed the data on the Ju'Day's thruster waste ratios. We can send a number of probes ahead of us to triangulate the pirate's estimated position based on this data."

Hrelle nodded. "Like bloodhounds."

"Meanwhile," Jonas jumped in, "We go in on Grey Mode, reduce our power signatures to a minimum, and give them as little as possible to pick up!" At the expression from T'Varik, he looked more chastened. "Sorry, Ma'am."

"However," the Vulcan continued archly. "There is no guarantee that we would detect them before they detect us. Their equipment may be more sensitive than ours."

"That's not necessarily an advantage." Hrelle moved to the window, stared out at the inky blotch in space, reminding him of the nightfog that used to roll into the Archipelago when he returned from the village pub. "Years ago I dated a rather fetching young zoologist on the Republic who had a penchant for exotic creatures. She once lost a Tiberian monkey in the ship's arboretum, and asked me to rescue it. I crawled through the trees for almost an hour, listening very, very carefully for its breathing among the dense foliage, blocking out everything else around me.

I learned that Tiberian monkey screeches can reach 125 deciBels, when the little bastard leapt onto my shoulder and shrieked in my ear. I nearly threw up from the experience." He looked at T'Varik and smiled. "Let's see if we can be little bastards ourselves, shall we?"