Surefoot 16: Day of the Dead

"Eydiir," growled the spectre that stood in the Morgue Unit, a tall, pale spectre that was undeniably his brother Straad, brought back to life. "After all I did for you, all my love I gave you... you didn't save me. You couldn't do this one thing for me. And now you've fled, to enjoy the life that I no longer can. How could you do that? How?"

And behind the spectre, a tall, skeletal creature in a top hat and longcoat grinned wickedly. "Yes, Cherie, how could you? Your brother is now tormented in the Hereafter because of you. BECAUSE OF YOU!"-

Falok broke contact and stepped back, almost staggering. That was... he had initiated a mind meld! His first! He had been on the receiving end of such telepathic contacts before, of course, but that was as a child, when he did not have the maturity to properly appreciate the intimacy of it, to appreciate that... that...

That he had just accessed another's mind without their permission.

Dr Ling entered, snapping him out of his shock at what he had just done, the small Asian woman striding up to the bed, her gaze on the readings overhead. "How long has she been like this?"

"I, ah, found her in this condition 1.4 minutes ago. I, ah, don't know how long she might have been like this."

Ling paused and looked over at him. "Are you okay? Any symptoms?"

Falok mentally collected himself and straightened up. "I am perfectly well, Doctor."

"Good, then you won't mind getting up on the next biobed and getting checked out yourself."

"I can assure you, Doctor, that-"

"That you're capable of following your doctor's orders? Prove it. Nurse Scarlo: report to Sickbay immediately." She paused and noted aloud, "No viruses or bacteria detected, no pathogens... did she eat or drink anything?"

"No, Doctor, not to my knowledge." He tried to process the last images he saw in her mind, they seemed most recent, the most intense, despite the seeming contradictions of her seeing her dead brother here. Had it been some symptom of post-traumatic disorder? He had no prior experience to confirm this.

"She has exceedingly high levels of acetylcholine and neurotransmitter production indicative of severe emotional stress," Ling continued. "With elevated levels of psyosinine, normally seen during telepathic contact."

She looked over at Falok.

The Vulcan sat up, internally struggling to maintain his composure. "I can assure you, Doctor, no telepathic activity has taken place between Cadet Eydiir and myself that could have triggered her current state."

Ling appeared satisfied with his statement, as Nurse Scarlo entered. "Lyn, run a scan on Mr Falok, while I check on the dead next door."

The tall Terran nurse with a mass of curly black hair gently but firmly pushed Falok down to a lying position again. "Just keep still, Cadet-"

But then both of them turned at the sound Ling made, as the doctor returned to the open doorway to the Morgue Unit, holding a short glass of dark liquid. "I thought you said she hadn't hadn't drunk anything? And why does it smell of smoke in here?"

*

Deck 2, Crew Lounge:

A man climbed out of an ornate coffin, his receding black hair slicked back in a widow's peak from his pallid, gaunt face, fangs bared as he glided forward, extending his arms to display his cape as he announced in a thick accent, "Good Evening, Boils and Ghouls and all Children of the Night! I am your host, Count DeMoney! Are you ready to dance?"

On the floorspace, cleared of tables and chairs and with fake cobwebs, vampire bats and skulls hanging from the ceiling, the costumed crowd of cadets and crewmen responded with a wild cheer.

"Then let's dance!" The coffin behind the Count disappeared, and a holographic band took its place, bursting into a classic song as the Count started boogeying onstage, and the crowd followed suit.

In the rear of the Lounge, Captain Esek Hrelle stood beside his wife, both of them wearing the appropriate Starfleet uniforms from a century before, Hrelle in a solid gold, rather tight shirt and black trousers, and Counselor Kami Hrelle in a blue minidress that accommodated her pregnancy bump better than Hrelle's shirt did for his belly. Hrelle beamed, his tail wagging. "Well, this looks to be a success! Remind me to compliment Neheru when I see him!"

Suddenly a tall, lanky figure in dirty rags and wearing a burlap sack with eyeholes over its head emerged from the nearby shadows. "Thank you, Captain, I am most pleased myself!"

Hrelle started. "Mother's Cubs, Neheru, what in the Seven Hells are you supposed to be?"

The Lieutenant lifted up the sack to reveal his pleased-looking Kelpien face: noseless, with bright emerald eyes, looking very much like a dried apricot. "They were called Scarecrows, Captain! They were humanoid effigies set up in cropfields on Earth and similar worlds as an environmentally-friendly pest control measure. They later became the subject of many legends about their coming to life and attacking copulating adolescents in land vehicles!" He made a sound like human chortling.

Kami smiled. "I find it very telling that a member of a race known for its timidity would revel in fear inducing."

Neheru looked to her. "There is nothing wrong with fear, it can be very healthy, as you well know, Counselor. Especially in as controlled an environment as this." Suddenly he straightened up. "Would you excuse me, please? Cadet Ingalls is trying to add alcohol to the fruit punch! Again! Mr Ingalls, not everyone here can imbibe!" He pulled his sack down over his head and departed towards the snack tables.

Hrelle leaned in to Kami and asked, "Am I wrong, or is that the scariest costume in here?"

She laughed. "I thought it was just me." She touched her belly. "I think the Bump wants to dance."

Hrelle chuckled. "Do you want me to get you a seat? Something to drink?"

She shook her head. "I won't stay long, just making sure all our cubs are having fun. And staying out of trouble." She smirked at one couple in a dark corner nearby, kissing passionately. "Mostly out of trouble."

From the doorway, Alpha Squad entered, led by Sasha, along with Beta Squad Leader Giles Arrington, dressed like her as an old-fashioned pirate, and First Officer Commander T'Varik, dressed as... a Starfleet officer.

"Excellent work!" Hrelle grinned, before focusing on T'Varik. "Except for yours. I thought I gave orders that everyone attending was to be in costume."

The Vulcan remained insouciant, folding her hands behind her back. "And I have, Sir. I am dressed as Commander William Riker of the USS Enterprise-D. That we happen to share an identical uniform and rank is purely coincidental."

Hrelle considered the answer - and guffawed. "Good one! You got me!"

"You need a beard," Kami teased.

"No, she doesn't!" Chief of Security Lt Shall Shall drew up, dressed in... as very little as she could get away with, all animal skins and a collar around her neck, her black tail swishing happily behind her as she focused on the Vulcan, ignoring all the appreciative stares she was receiving. "She's fine exactly as she is!"

T'Varik regarded the young Caitian's costume dispassionately. "And what are you meant to be?"

"A wild beast," she purred sultrily in reply, "In heat, and looking for a mate."

"Never would have recognised her," Sasha quipped.

C'Rash glanced once at her cousin by marriage. "Don't be jealous, Tailless, you had your chance with me, let others have some fun." To T'Varik she said, "Let's dance."

"I think not."

"I think so," Hrelle countered, smirking. "It's certainly what Commander Riker would do, or so I've heard about him."

"Go on, T'Varik," Kami joined in. "It's healthy. Consider it Medical Orders."

"You heard Aunt Kami..." C'Rash took T'Varik by the hand led her unto the crowd.

Hrelle looked to Alpha Squad. "Well, go on, you too!"

He watched them merge into the crowd as well, some seeking out specific people, others apparently already with the ones they want, like Sasha with Giles... and Jonas with Neraxis.

He looked to his wife. "Are they...?"

The Counselor smiled in the direction of the young couple, Jonas gently but firmly convincing the Bolian girl to put her arms around him and start dancing. "Yes. She can't quite admit it to herself yet, but they are."

He chuckled - but then sobered as Nurse Scarlo entered and whispered something in his ear. He nodded and looked to Kami. "Get T'Varik, C'Rash and Sasha to come to Sickbay. Something's happened to Eydiir."

*

Chief Grev clicked the stubby hooves on his right hand, once again marvelling that races like humans could make do with those spindly appendages they used for fingers, as he sat alone in Main Engineering, studying the power flow to the aft tractor array, working on increasing the performance through supporting the struts with the structural integrity field. He grunted to himself; there was something about having all these talented young pups running around that woke up his own inspiration. He hadn't felt this way since he was a midshipman-

"Here, Piggy Piggy Piggy..."

Grev turned in his chair, squinting. "Who's that?"

A figure stepped in from the shadows: human, tall, thin, and clad in one of those gaudy costumes that the humans wore for their infernal pagan ritual. He grinned with a bone-white face, puffing on a smouldering cigar, wide white eyes peering out from under a black top hat. "Ooh, I have had many names over the centuries, Monsieur Piglet. But you can address me as... The Baron."

Grev grunted; Tellarites went more from smell than sight, but his nose couldn't pick up which crewmember this was. Probably one of the new cadets, certainly not one of the Engineering ones he normally dealt with. "Is that right? Well, 'The Baron', this area's off limits to non-essential personnel! Especially ones creating potential fire hazards! So take your mangy, fleabitten carcass back to the Crew Lounge and join the rest of the party!"

The Baron sneered. "You ungrateful little fils de pute! I come here, offering to take over for you while you have your family reunion, and this is the thanks I get?"

Grev stood up. "Take over? Reunion? By Grabthar's Hammer, what are you talking about? Get out, or I'll call Security!"

The intruder laughed now... and stepped aside, revealing a Tellarite male, with ashen-grey fur looking stringy and sickly, wrinkled skin now embedded from age and infirmity as it hung loosely from his fragile frame. But his voice carried, carried into Grev's mind. "Grev... where were you when that theta leak left me like this?"

Grev staggered back, breath quickening. "Gral? You- How can you be here? You-"

"Died?" The phantasm drew closer, raising a spindly hand towards him. "I know! I was there! You weren't, though! You were away, grubbing about in mud baths, thinking only of yourself, while I BURNED! What about all those promises to watch out for your little brother? What about them?"

Grev shook his head. It couldn't be... it was twenty-four years ago, when they were both midshipmen on the Marco Polo, and Grev went on leave without him, and- and- and now he stood here, looking, sounding, smelling exactly as Grev remembered when he- he-

"Watched me die?" the phantasm prompted.

And it all flooded back, a wave of guilt and anguish and terror as strong now as it was almost a quarter-century ago. He sank to his knees, sobbing and wailing, before finally succumbing to unconsciousness.

The top-hatted skeletal figure walked past him. "And this little piggy cried Wee Wee Wee, all the way home..." It focused on the tall cylindrical warp core, illuminated in sea blue, and accessed the now-vulnerable Chief's mind for the knowledge it required...

*

Hrelle brought the tumbler glass to his nose. "Yes, definitely smells like rum."

Nearby, Kami prompted, "You're not going to taste it, are you? It's not even been properly scanned." She sniffed the air in the Morgue Unit. "And that is tobacco; I had to work with a human Counselor who favoured them, for some stupid romantic reason."

C'Rash, still clad in her minimal costume, brought her Security tricorder to the rum glass. "I'm getting strange readings from it, some form of energy it can't identify."

Falok stood at the doorway, having been cleared by Nurse Scarlo. "Eydiir and I had identified that the necklace we found around Ms Martis' neck was filled with anaphasic energy. We were preparing to make a further study of it, speculating that the energy might have affected the psychological state of the deceased."

T'Varik stood near the scanner. "Where is the necklace?"

Falok froze, as if more conscious of the need to display discipline in the presence of the older Vulcan. "It was there when I had departed for refreshments."

"So we're saying someone came in here, smoked, drank rum, somehow disabled Eydiir and took the necklace?" Hrelle looked to T'Varik. "Access the replicator logs, find out who if anyone might have ordered rum, and tobacco. They might have been brought onboard physically, but it's still worth a shot."

C'Rash walked up to Falok. "Describe the necklace."

The young Vulcan made an effort not to glance down at her underdressed state. "22.5 centimetres in length, composed of Terran gold in short segments, approximately 500 years old, with a centrepiece of a stylised humanoid skull with a top hat and- and..." His mind recalled the image from Eydiir's mind, of something that resembled the same figure.

His reaction drew everyone's attention, Kami asking softly, "What is it? What are you remembering?"

Falok looked around, steeling himself. It was inevitable, he couldn't keep his actions to himself any longer. "Captain, I must formally report that I have committed a crime, in violation of Starfleet Code of Conduct 128, namely the telepathic memory invasion of Cadet Eydiir Daughter-of-Kaas."

"What?" Hrelle exclaimed, as T'Varik joined them again, her gaze cold and unwavering on the other Vulcan.

Falok continued, already feeling relieved that he was able to bring it out into the open. "I... I was helping Eydiir to the biobed. I touched her face to check her pulse and... I accidentally mind-melded with her. I have never done it before, I was unprepared, and struggled to break it, but... I will not contest the charges, and of course I will resign immediately-"

"We will discuss your actions at a later time, Mr Falok," T'Varik informed him sharply. "We have more immediate concerns." As Dr Ling and Sasha entered, she asked the former, "What is Cadet Eydiir's condition?"

Ling glanced at Falok, as if she had heard at least part of his confession before entering the Unit. "She seems to have undergone some profound post-traumatic stress episode, with the accompanying neurotransmitter activity expected, but she should recover. I could use stimulants to wake her sooner, but I'd much prefer to let her come out of it at her own pace. There was definite increased levels of psilosinine, indicative of strong telepathic contact, similar to what happened to members of Alpha Squad last year with that rogue telepath Lt. Aikens."

The senior officers looked to Falok again, but Hrelle asked gently, "Why do you think she might have had a post-traumatic episode, Mr Falok?"

The young Vulcan swallowed, indicating Martis' remains, still under the stasis field on the table. "We had begun examining the body, and Eydiir noted the apparent signs of suicide, and confided in me her own attempts at suicide following the death of her older brother on Capella.

Sir... I saw images in her mind that shouldn't exist... images of her brother, standing in this very room, accusing her of failing him, of letting him die. I- She felt so much guilt, it was overwhelming. The images certainly appeared real to her, but... I have no experience in judging the verisimilitude of another's memories." He breathed in. "Captain, I swear to you on my honour as a Vulcan that I would not harm her-"

"T'Varik is right, that's for another time," Kami informed him. "You were hesitating earlier as you described the missing necklace. Why?"

"Because she saw someone else in this room besides her brother. A humanoid who greatly resembled the figure with the skull face, top hat and cigar."

C'Rash was accessing her tricorder. "The necklace is listed in the Federation Historical Database as the Laveau Legacy, a valuable relic from Earth's 19th Century with a notorious history of bringing bad luck to its owners. It was reported stolen from the New Orleans Museum in 2254, considered lost." She shrugged. "And now apparently found, and subsequently lost again."

"According to the ship's logs," Falok reported. "Ms Martis was delivering the relic to a private collector, a Mr Kivas Fajo. Eydiir had speculated that perhaps it had been a theft/murder made to appear as suicide."

"Then why not take the necklace when they killed her?" C'Rash reasoned.

"This humanoid you say Eydiir saw," Hrelle asked Falok. "Did he appear familiar?"

Sasha was now accessing a data terminal. "The figure described is apparently Baron Samedi, a Loa, or spirit, in Terran vodou beliefs. He is said to inhabit the crossroads between the worlds of the living and the dead, is notorious for his outrageous behaviour, swearing, making filthy jokes, and smoking cigars and drinking rum, and has the power of resurrection."

"I believe we can confidently assume that the intruder who attacked Cadet Eydiir is not an actual spirit," T'Varik declared dryly.

Hrelle's expression tightened. "Dr Ling, monitor Eydiir, and keep the Morgue locked up until further notice. Nurse Scarlo, stay here. I don't want anyone alone for too long. Those of us in costume, get back in uniform, then get to the Lounge and see if you can find someone dressed like this Baron Samedi; if this turns out to be some Halloween prank gone wrong, the party or parties responsible will regret it." He felt his hackles rising, as if suspecting that there was more to it than just trick or treating.

*

In the Crew Lounge, the music continued to blast, and black and orange light beams danced overhead, and the environmental systems struggled to keep down the heat being generated by the mass of bodies on the floor, swirling and pulsing. Onstage, a holographic band belted out a ghoulish song, led by a man with pale makeup and long black hair-

Until the music abruptly stopped, and the singer spasmed and jolted as if electrocuted, before his holographic matrix fragmented... replaced by the intruder. He looked out, remaining silent until he had everyone's attention. "Well, well, well, what have we here?" He took a puff from his cigar before continuing, "It looks like someone likes Halloween! Am I right, you horny little bastards?"

A cheer rose up among them, a cheer that gained momentum.

The intruder laughed theatrically. "Bien, bien! It seems I've come to the right place!" He drank from his glass. "Allow me to introduce myself: I am Baron Samedi, the Loa of the Dead, the Master of the Underworld, the Prince of the Graveyard. I have power over the living and the unliving. I command all." He threw the emptied glass aside and swept the hand holding the cigar across the crowd. "And I command you all to stay here and dance your sweet little asses off! THIS IS A LOCKDOWN! DANCE 'TIL YOU DIE!"

The music started up again as he vanished with an echoing laugh. The crowd lapped it up, and followed the orders.

Near the back of the lounge, Giles, feeling foolish and left out since Sasha left unexpectedly, moved up to Neheru. "Lieutenant, my compliments! The Baron's a hell of a lot cooler than your Count DeMoney! You should have led with him from the start!"