Surefoot 16: Day of the Dead

The Kelpien removed his headgear and threw it aside, struggling to regain control of his threat ganglia, which had inexplicably extended from the back of his neck when Samedi first appeared, and refused to retract. "I didn't create that holographic character, Mr Arrington, and I will have words with whomever had crudely accessed my program to include him. Please excuse me." He turned to exit - only to find the doors unresponsive.

Yes, he was definitely going to have words with the one responsible.

*

C'Rash had rushed into her quarters and began stripping off her costume to change into her uniform, tapping her combadge before she was dressed. "C'Rash to T'Varik: apologies."

The Vulcan's voice was bemused. "Apologies, Lieutenant? For what?"

The Caitian smiled to herself. "For not finishing our dance. I know you were enjoying it."

The Security Chief could almost hear the eyebrow rise over the combadge link. "Lieutenant, we have more important matters to deal with at this time."

C'Rash was about to enquire further, when she tensed, distracted by a scent. She paused once or twice, tried to shake it off as a memory, but it grew overwhelming, and panic rose within her, her hackles rising and her black-furred tail twitching agitatedly as she glanced about. "No. No, it couldn't be-"

"Lieutenant?" T'Varik asked. "Is there a problem?"

C'Rash didn't hear. "No- not him- not-"

"Is this how you present yourself to your commanding officer, young lady?"

She cursed and spun, hissing instinctively at the figure standing before her.

He was an older human male, dark-skinned, plump in face and greying in his receding hair, and dressed in a Starfleet uniform with four Captain's pips - with an unignorable Cardassian disruptor burn where his heart should have been. He indicated her nude state. "This is not how I expect my junior officers to appear!"

C'Rash's heart raced. "C-Captain Myrick?"

He sneered. "You haven't forgotten my name, at least. Everything else, though... your oath to protect me, to keep your commanding officer, your mentor, safe from harm? That went out the proverbial airlock, didn't it?"

She was clutching her uniform in her hand, trembling... "Captain Myrick... you can't be real! You're dead, you were killed-"

"I know!" he shrieked. "And you swore to the Great Mother that you'd protect me! So much for your word!"

She shook her head. "You- I never told anyone I did that! Who-"

A hand appeared from nowhere and snatched her clothing away, the body attached to the hand emerging from shadow, grinning with a lipless mouth - the missing necklace glittering around his neck. "They say cats have no guilt. But you certainly do, Mon Petit Chat Noir. Fresh, strong, delicious guilt."

C'Rash struggled to break out of the paralysis that gripped her, filled her body, since the image of Myrick appeared. But all she could manage was to extend the claws on her right hand and weakly raise her arm up to strike him.

But Samedi was ready for her. A bony hand held her easily by the wrist, the other reaching up, fondling her as she shook. He chuckled. "Your guilt nourishes me; merci beaucoup. But there is one onboard whose guilt surpasses all others. His death will be a feast. And you will have failed to save another Captain. Imagine your own guilt then, Pretty Kitty... What an exquisite dessert that will make..."

*

With Sasha returned to her quarters to change, the two Vulcans strode down the corridor towards the Lounge, Falok finally venturing to speak. "Commander, I-"

"If you are as intelligent as you are purported to be, Squad Leader, you will not broach the subject of your actions at this time." She nearly ran into the Lounge doors before realising that they would not open automatically. She tried the manual override controls, without success. "Go to Engineering. Chief Grev is on duty, inform him of this problem and request his immediate assistance, and take over for him there."

"Yes, Commander."

T'Varik watched him depart - then frowned to herself as her combadge chirped. "C'Rash to T'Varik: apologies."

"Apologies, Lieutenant? For what?"

"For not finishing our dance. I know you were enjoying it."

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. "Lieutenant, we have more important matters to deal with at this time."

Then she heard C'Rash declare, "No. No, it couldn't be-"

"Lieutenant? Is there a problem?"

"No- not him- not-"

Then an unfamiliar male voice joined the conversation from C'Rash's end. "Is this how you present yourself to your commanding officer, young lady?" T'Varik heard the Caitian hiss and curse, before the man's voice spoke again. "This is not how I expect my junior officers to appear!"

"C-Captain Myrick?"

The transmission ended, and T'Varik tried to re-establish. "Lieutenant? Lieutenant C'Rash, respond." After a moment of silence she announced. "T'Varik to Bridge: Lt Velkovsky, take the ship to Red Alert."

Suddenly the corridor went dark, and a single lighting strip in an oyster grey colour lit the way.

She tapped her combadge again. "Lieutenant, I ordered Red Alert, not Grey Alert. Lieutenant Velkovsky: answer... Anyone on the combadge system: answer."

She heard the footfalls down the otherwise-silent corridor, correctly judging it to be Falok returning, his haste providing a 96% probability of something else wrong. "Commander, I found Chief Grev in a comatose state identical to Eydiir. And there was that same smell of cigar smoke in Engineering."

She nodded. "I was speaking with Lt Shall when she apparently was visited by an apparition purporting to be a deceased colleague of hers, before transmission was broken."

"A deceased..." Falok straightened up. "She was hallucinating?"

"I heard the 'hallucination' speak. Communications are down; that should not be the case, even in Grey Alert. Follow me to Security."

"Should we not alert Dr Ling and Captain Hrelle first?"

"We first require weapons and communicators independent of the ship's systems, and collect Sasha Hrelle along the way. Afterwards, you will proceed to Sickbay, inform Dr Ling of the new casualties, and remain on guard with her and Nurse Scarlo for the time being. I will then proceed to the Captain's Quarters on Deck 1 and report."

*

"This is intolerable," Neheru declared, the upper half of his costume cast aside leving him in his Starfleet-issue black undershirt. He was staring at the Lounge doors as he declared it, as if the strength of his continued chagrin might force the stubborn things to finally open after an interminable period of being trapped within.

Once he realised they were trapped and no one was responding to hails, he had stopped the music and raised the lights, but the initial protests from the revellers quickly died when they realised that this was really happening. Attempts at manually overriding the door locking mechanism failed. And then the lights dimmed, and the lighting strip in the ceiling indicated they had gone to Grey Alert. And now they were trapped, in a room that was gradually losing heat.

"Intolerable!" he repeated, more loudly. Then he checked himself; as the ship's Second Officer and senior in rank here he had to set an example of professionalism, even in the face of adversity. But he couldn't help feel a sense of responsibility. He had only obtained his current position because of a chance encounter with Captain Hrelle while delivering the Sabre-class ship to Starbase 154. Neheru had assured everyone that it was a top-of-the-line vessel, had passed all its inspections without any problems. If all of this was due to some hitherto-undiscovered glitch in the systems-

Squad Leader Giles Arrington stepped up beside him. "Lieutenant, we've run out of barbecued chicken."

"And?"

"Request permission to cook and eat one of the less useful cadets?"

The Kelpien harrumphed. "Don't be ridiculous, Mr Arrington. You can't start a fire in here, that'd be a safety violation."

Giles made a sound of amusement mixed with surprise; Neheru guessed the younger man never expected his senior officer to have a sense of humour. He wasn't that much older than he and the other cadets... was he? "And how are our Engineering cadets doing?"

"They can't agree on one tactic, and given our limited resources-"

Neheru nodded. "Let's go see." They ventured to the table where the cadets and Engineering staff had gathered around a table cleared of drinks and snacks and replaced with every tool and electronic item that might have been included in costume accessories. Which wasn't much. Neheru put on his most no-nonsense face. "Report."

Jonas flicked back his silver-white hair as he indicated the items. "My idea is to create a coupler for that power cell to connect to the locking mechanism to give it enough juice to unlock. It won't have enough to open the doors, but we should be able to do that ourselves with time, a simple lever and some elbow grease."

"Elbow... grease?"

"Um, a human expression for sweat, Lieutenant."

"That sounds disgusting. Will we be able to force the doors open once unlocked?"

"Well, we have enough volunteers. Dr Kline has been volunteering to get something done."

Nearby, an inebriated Klingon dressed in the robes of the character K'rchef from the great Klingon comic opera The Bloodstained Winter of Our Misery, suddenly jumped to his feet from where he had been sitting insensate, and loudly declared, "By Kahless, yes! I will split the gates of Sto-Vo-Kor itself if need be!" Then he belched and sat down again.

Neheru grunted and turned back to the group. "And the other option?"

Now Delta Squad's Tellarite Engineering Guforg spoke up, her hooves pointing at various items. "We use the power cell to start a fire near the ceiling sensors over the door."

"A fire?"

"It won't work," Jonas declared.

Guforg snorted. "You're not the only one here with Engineering skills, Ostrow."

"I'm not saying that," he protested. "I'm saying the-"

But Guforg turned to Neheru. "Even when we're in Grey Alert, the sensors know this room is occupied, so when they detect the fire, they'll reallocate power to open the doors. No elbow grease will be required."

"It won't work," Jonas repeated. "The diagnostic cycle we first tried to reset the door failed, so it won't recognise people in the room to free them. You'll waste the power in the cell."

"And I disagree," Guforg countered, "What do the rest of you say?"

Some of the other cadets -- Yeager, Soolamea -- plus a couple of the Engineering crew, sided with Jonas. Others with Guforg, who sneered at him. "We all know you're the Captain's little favourite, Ostrow. But that doesn't make you right." She looked to Neheru. "Well, Lieutenant?"

Neheru considered the choice. Ostrow's plan was safer, but would take time and have no guarantee of success. Guforg's plan was riskier, but could get them out immediately. Fortune favours the bold, but Kelpiens were not known for their boldness. On the other hand, as they had not yet been freed from the outside or even contacted, this suggested there was danger involved, possibly involving that Baron Samedi character. They may need help, fast.

He owed so much to the Captain: offering him this position, taking him away from the shipyards -- a safer environment, perhaps, but one with less fulfilling responsibility. He looked to Guforg. "Implement your plan."

The young Tellarite clacked her hooves in delight. "Thank you, Sir!" He glanced at Jonas. "Just sit tight, Ostrow, and watch how it's done."

Jonas stood back, Neraxis moving up to him and putting a hand on his shoulder, "You okay, Scrappy? They should have listened to you."

He nodded, watching as Guforg guided the other cadets and crew to move a table up near the door, where she climbed up with the power cell and the improvised igniter.

Now Kit drew up. "You appear resentful, Good Friend Jonas."

"No, Kit. Just thinking about what we might do when-"

There was a flash from the power cell, a flame. And... nothing.

"-When her plan failed," he finished.

*

In their quarters, Hrelle and Kami were changing when he asked, "Do you think Eydiir's condition is related to what Falok did to her?"

"I can't see it. I've been on the receiving end of Vulcan mind melds with T'Varik; to cause the sort of reaction she had would take a well-developed, unhinged mind. Falok doesn't fit that profile; he's too sweet on Eydiir-"

The lights dimmed as the ship went to Grey Alert.

Hrelle glanced up. "Seven Hells... Hrelle to Bridge, what's going on, Velkovsky?" After a moment's silence, he persisted. "This is the Captain, someone respond, now! Computer: Restore Normal Operations! Computer!" His hackles rose, and he glanced at Kami. "Stay here, lock the door."

She watched him leave. "Be careful, Esek."

He stopped, returned and nuzzled her. "I'll be careful. Be back soon."

He headed for the door again, pausing as it opened onto a darkened corridor. "Lock it!"

As the door slid shut, she murmured, "Computer: Lock Door."

"Bien sûr, pute," it replied happily.

*

Hrelle heard T'Varik and Sasha approach, saw them wearing belts with a phaser holster and pouch for an independent handheld communicator each. "Commander! I can't reach the Bridge."

They drew up to him, T'Varik handing him a spare belt. "Nor can I. We need to check on Lt. C'Rash, she has been attacked."

He didn't ask for an explanation, instead followed her to their Chief of Security's quarters, entering to find the Caitian collapsed on the floor, alive but resisting any attempts to wake her. Hrelle lifted her up and put her on her bed, sniffing the air. "Cigar smoke again. What's going on, T'Varik?"

"I was in communication with her when I heard an intruder appear, apparently in the guise of her former commander Captain Myrick, who I was led to believe died - a similar account from Cadet Falok about what Eydiir encountered, but with her deceased brother."

He eyed her. "Some sort of telepathic attack?"

"Yes, but with an obvious physical component; I heard the voice of the entity confronting the Lieutenant, and we have smelled cigar smoke in both locations. Sir, Cadet Falok has reported Chief Grev has also been incapacitated; I have armed Mr Falok and assigned him to stay with Dr Ling and Nurse Scarlo."

He nodded with approval. "Is there anyone else outside the Lounge?"

"None that I am aware of."

He looked to his stepdaughter. "Sasha, go stay with Kami; when you're together, see if you can find out anything more about this anaphasic energy they detected." He glanced at his First Officer. "If you agree, Number One."

"I do, Sir."

Sasha nodded and departed.

*

Kami looked up at nothing in particular. "Computer? Unlock the door, please?" She knew that the computer wasn't sentient - there were regulations against creating that level of AI - but it never hurt to practice good manners. "Computer?"

"No, Madame Chatte, not the computer."

She turned to see a tall, skull-faced figure in black appear from nowhere in her quarters, raising her hackles. "Who are you?"

He bowed slightly. "Baron Samedi, at your service."

Her pulse quickened, and she felt the baby react in her belly, but she maintained her composure. "Oh? Well, Baron, you could be of great service if you let the computer unlock the door. I'd like to leave, please."

The intruder flicked some spectral ash from his cigar to the floor. "Non, cherie. Your husband wants some privacy with you."

"What? But Esek just left-"

Samedi made a harsh, mocking sound. "Imbécile! Not that husband!"

He stepped aside - and a profoundly familiar scent suddenly triggered an intense reaction in Kami, as a figure stepped into view from the shadows. "Hello again, Sugartail."

Kami's pulse trebled, as she took a step backward, her baby squirming inside as she stared with wide, unblinking eyes. "R-R-Rmorra?"

It was - Mother's Cubs, it was him! Smelling, looking just as he did all those years ago! The sharp-tipped ears, the chocolate-brown fur, the short tail and wide shoulders and blue-green eyes! He even wore that old Starfleet uniform with the brick-red jacket that they used to wear when- when- "You died."

"Yes," he agreed coldly, his voice exactly as he remembered it, though it was tainted with an angry, accusing tone. "I died... and you forgot me."

She shook her head, her baby protesting with restlessness. "N-No- I never forgot-"

"No? You swore to love me forever... but now you sleep in another male's bed... AND CARRY HIS CUB!"

Kami kept stepping back, feeling energy snaking into her head... reminding her of the feeling she would get when T'Varik would initiate a mind meld. And Rmorra - Seven Hells, he seemed so real! - for all his talents, was no telepath.

"Feeling guilty, cherie?" Samedi taunted, chuckling. "You should, putain."

Kami steeled himself, setting up the telepathic barriers her Vulcan friend had taught her, as she forced down the emotions she first felt when she saw this vision, in favour of something less expected. "You stupid kussik! How dare you come back now, after all this time, and show your face! After what you did?"

"Wha- me?" The image of Rmorra seemed taken aback. "You married another-"

"And why?" she snapped. "Because you let yourself be shot in the back on some nameless, Mother-forsaken mudball on the edge of Galaxy... over some broken pottery from a forgotten civilisation! What kind of a clueless noseblind blockheaded amateur lets that happen to him, huh? I'm glad our cub never grew up seeing for himself what an addled, limptailed little runt he had for a father! Your death was the ebst thing that ever happened to me! Esek is a hundred times the man you ever were! A HUNDRED! I'M GLAD YOU'RE DEAD! I'M GLAD!"

The image of Rmorra stepped back, seemingly at a loss - or at least, no longer under the control of his obvious puppetmaster.

Who now became the focus of Kami's attention. "The real question is: why do you want me to feel guilt over Rmorra's death? And the others? What's in it for you? Sadism? Or something more fundamental?" She stared at him. "What drives you?"

Samedi glared at her contemptuously. "Putain de chatte!"

Then he vanished, as did Rmorra's shade.

The Bump reacted, making her clutch her belly again and sit on the edge of the couch, forcing up some relaxation techniques. The door chimed, and for a moment she thought it might have been Samedi playing tricks on her, before she acknowledged the foolishness of that and replied, "Come."

The door slid open and Sasha entered. "Hey, Dad sent-" Then she saw the distress on the Caitian female, and rushed over, dropping to one knee. "What's wrong? Is it the baby?"

Kami shook her head, her tail betraying her anxiety. "Baron Samedi was here."

"What?"

"And he conjured up an image of my first husband. An image that smelled, looked, sounded exactly like him, better than any hologram."

"Then how- why weren't you left like the others-"

"I- I didn't let myself react to Rmorra's image as if it was real. I yelled at him. I insulted him. I told him... I was glad he was dead. I told him... I-"