Surefoot 27: Oubliette

He stopped as he heard the footsteps approaching the doorway, and a middle-aged, broad-chinned Vulcan female in a plain black civilian jumpsuit, the woman in the Personnel file his First Officer had shown him, approached, expertly holding a Starfleet phaser in one hand, albeit aimed to the floor. "There is no need to shout any more, Captain."

Hrelle lowered his own phaser. "Captain Sakuth, I presume?"

She nodded curtly. "The Auto-Destruct is at 6.6 minutes and counting."

"Can you halt it?"

"It cannot be countermanded at this time. You have pattern enhancers with you? We will need them to transport our Device to your ship."

He nodded to the table. "Who's in the box?"

"Professor Kessis. She was injured in the Ferengi attack, but remains conscious-"

"She was listed on your records as Human!"

"A necessary security precaution. You must transport the Device up first, it is the culmination of our work here-"

"No, we'll transport your injured scientist, and my Away Team, and yourself, and then we'll transport your Great Whatsit."

"Captain, my authority-"

But he ignored her, focusing on his combadge. "Commander, we have Captain Sakuth and a Professor Kessis, who's been injured. Contrary to the records, Professor Kessis is actually Medusan."

He saw the reactions from the Away Team at the revelation -- and then the almost-hidden reaction on Sakuth's face when T'Varik's voice responded. "Understood, Captain, we'll isolate Auxiliary Sickbay on Deck 4 and clear the corridors between it and Transporter Room Four. You have six minutes now, Sir."

"Medusan?" Jonas breathed out in horror, as he both looked at and tried to avoid looking at the box.

"Jonas!" Hrelle snapped. "Set up the pattern enhancers!" He looked back at Sakuth. "Where's your Great Whatsit?"

The Vulcan escorted him to a nearby lab, where a large unmarked segmented black container roughly the size and shape of a ship's work bee sat. "You should have beamed this up first. It's more important than any of us."

"Thankfully I disagree, a thousand times over. Come on! I'll get it beamed up in time!"

Hrelle escorted Sakuth back to the quarters. Jonas had the four enhancer poles arranged in a square around the centre of the floor, where someone had moved Professor Kessis' box. "Seven Hells, are you people crazy? You shifted her without us?"

C'Rash looked to him, her tail agitated, and presumably not from being near a Medusan. "We were careful, Sir! Now let's get going!"

Hrelle noticed that she and the cadets were indeed facing away from it, and stepped aside to let Sakuth walk into the enhanced field. "T'Varik! Beam them up! NOW!"

He kept his eyeline well above the box on the floor as he watched his Away Team depart with the two survivors. "Time, Commander?"

"Three minutes, Sir. Alacrity would be prudent."

"No shit." He grabbed the enhancers and raced back into the lab, quickly setting them around. The object looked like... well, like nothing valuable or dangerous was inside. But then, so did Professor Kessis' container. He stepped within the field. "Beam us both directly to Cargo Bay 5, prepare it for secure storage..."

*

"Captain's Log, Stardate 55090.44: The Shangris IX Station was completely destroyed by its Auto-Destruct device. Of the five members of the team based there, two have survived: Captain Sakuth, and Professor Kessis, although Professor Kessis has apparently been injured by one of the Ferengi energy weapons. At the suggestion of our Chief Medical Officer, we are utilising one of the prototype Emergency Medical Holograms recently installed in the Auxiliary Sickbay; its program is basic and not very interactive at this time, but it should not be affected by the Medusan's unique defensive properties.

We have secured the Great Whatsit that the Shangris scientists were working on, and are now proceeding to rendezvous with the Starsong to transfer it and the survivors to their care. No reports have been received as yet regarding the Ferengi Marauder.

For the record, I wish to protest the deception in the official files regarding Professor Kessis' race. I don't give a damn just how Top Secret their project was, I shouldn't have to explain the enormous danger posed by the presence of a Medusan among sighted corporeal beings. Members of my crew, my cadets, could just as easily have gone mad and died from viewing her, the way the two Ferengi we found obviously did.

But then, we are dealing with Starfleet Intelligence here. Secrecy to the detriment of others is practically their motto."

*

The bald, confused-looking human in Starfleet Medical Blue appeared on the holocommunicator platform in the Main Sickbay, looking nonplussed. "This program has encountered a problem and needs to close down. We are sorry for the inconvenience."

Masterson frowned. "Why? What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? What's wrong is that the Medusan is not a biological lifeform, and the Federation Medical Database is limited as to their treatments."

The CMO leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Come on, Tenderfoot, you have to come up with something. Think outside the box."

"I cannot do this. I am a literally within a box. This program has encountered a problem and needs to close down. We are sorry for the inconvenience."

Kline sneered beside Masterson. "What a pointless, pathetic machine."

Masterson ignored him, focusing on the hologram. "Listen, pardner: Medusans are a collective of electromagnetic particles in a self-sustaining analogue of their biological bodies from their evolutionary past, including their original cerebral functions. They think, communicate, ingest, excrete, and reproduce with energy, all at specific wavelengths -- and when injured, they lose cohesion and bleed that same energy. Work out a means of giving her a transfusion until she can recover enough to heal herself."

The hologram frowned. "The Medusan is not a biological lifeform, and the Federation Medical Database is limited as to their treatments. This program has encountered a problem and needs to close down. We are sorry for the inconvenience."

The Klingon doctor spat. "I will disembowel your database!" He looked to Masterson. "You cannot allow this petaQ to dishonour our noble profession! Vulcans are resistant to the Medusan madness! Let us have one of them go in and treat it!"

Masterson frowned. "None of the Vulcans onboard are sufficiently medically trained to deal with regular folk, let alone Medusans." He frowned as he nodded at the EMH prototype. "On the other hand, what choice have we got? Chuckles here doesn't seem bright enough to hit the ground with his hat in three throws."

The hologram blanched. "Should I be insulted?"

Masterson pushed his favourite Stetson back up from his forehead. "Yeah, pardner. You should."

*

Deck 3 Fore -- Cadets Mess:

The tables and chairs had been replaced, and those not on duty had congregated here, though not many were eating, and their voices were muted.

"I have heard the rumours about Medusans," Rrori noted. "It seems unbelievable that a race could be so hideous that just looking at them can drive you mad and kill you."

Kit looked to the Caitian. "The name 'Medusan' was applied by Terrans who first encountered them, inspired by their own mythology of creatures who could turn people to stone, but this race's capacity is based not on any aesthetic attractiveness, but an evolutionary defence mechanism. It exploits the innate capacity for quantum phototransduction most organic visual systems possess. Viewing a Medusan 'in the flesh', as it were, triggers a quantum feedback that affects first the neocortex, causing the notorious bouts of insanity, and then the autonomic nervous system that controls vital functions such as heart rate and respiration."

"But despite the danger in looking upon them," Eydiir commented. "Their thoughts and words are among the most sublime, peaceful and poetic. They can't help their natures, any more than we can help having canine teeth." She spared a glance at Kit. "Those of us who have them, of course."

As Kit nodded in silent appreciation of his friend's acknowledgement of his race's different evolutionary path, as he added, "Ironically, their energy states appear to make them even more vulnerable to weapons such as the Ferengis', than if she had been solid."

After a moment, Jonas asked, "Are we still on to resit the Exams at 1330 Hours, Sash?"

"That's what I'm told. So, anyone looking for a bit of last-minute revision..." She glanced around at the other cadets at their tables, furiously perusing over PADDs, while others stress-ate, or disappeared together to find a quiet place for more intimate activities. "Or a bit of last-minute anything else, should take the opportunity."

*

Deck 2 Fore -- Captain's Ready Room:

Sakuth stood in front of Hrelle's desk. "No, Captain. You do not need to know the nature of the Device."

He looked up at her. "A Directive 27 was placed on you, your colleagues, your station, and the Great Whatsit in Cargo Bay 5. SI was willing to let you die rather than fall into Ferengi hands. Trenagen considered you expendable."

She folded her hands behind her back. "That was an entirely logical and reasonable decision on Admiral Trenagen's part. If you are seeking to inflame my indignation over the decision in order to spur me into indiscretion, you are wasting both your time and mine."

Hrelle smirked, seeing an uncanny resemblance to a more familiar Vulcan. "My own rank, and my role as Strategic Operations Officer for the sector covering the Federation-Cardassian Border, must give me a high enough level-"

"It does not," she interrupted. "Captain, after the Battle of Wolf 359, many think tanks were established to devise effective weapons and tactics against the Borg, as it is correctly surmised that they will soon return to attack the Federation again. It has already been established that the Borg accrue intelligence through the assimilation of beings such as Starfleet personnel, as was demonstrated when Captain Jean-Luc Picard was assimilated, and his knowledge prevented a potentially powerful weapon deployed by the Enterprise from functioning with efficacy.

The fewer people who know of the nature and operation of the device you refer to as 'the Great Whatsit', the less likely the Borg will learn and adapt to it beforehand if they happen to assimilate someone with information on it."

"Well," Hrelle commented, "Someone must have screwed up somewhere, since the Ferengi came looking for it."

Sakuth nodded in acquiescence. "They entered orbit and flooded subspace with interference to keep us from calling for aid. I responded by activating our defence systems, and they began their attack. We possessed a Mark 10 Planetary Shield System, which bought us time until your arrival."

"But not before you nearly lost all of your colleagues; I'm sorry we weren't here sooner."

"Your words of remorse are unnecessary, Captain. What is done, is done."

He studied her. "Tell me, was it Professor Kessis' idea that she use her destructive properties against the Ferengi? Or was it yours?"

"It was mine. The Professor understands Federation languages, even though she cannot reply verbally. I impressed upon her the necessity for her involvement, given our tactical disadvantage against the Ferengi."

"Disadvantage? You are a trained, experienced Security specialist. You were armed. You didn't have to involve a civilian from a nonviolent race." He stared hard at her. "Did you tell her that you were armed?"

"That is not relevant. What is done-"

"-Is done. So you said already." Hrelle nodded at that. "You know what I think? I think you wanted to use the opportunity to test the weaponisation capability of the Medusans, a race who are reclusive because they're intensely, intrinsically nonviolent; they fear and loathe harming beings like us." He grunted. "Maybe we should just enslave their whole race and dump them onto any enemy with vision that comes along? Sure, it would violate their rights in a horrible fashion and be a betrayal of everything we espouse, but it'd be worth it, right?" His door chimed before she could respond, and he called out, "Enter."

T'Varik and Kami entered, approaching his desk but stopping a respectful distance from Sakuth. T'Varik looked to Hrelle. "I have an update for you, Sir."

"Thanks." Hrelle felt the temperature in the room halve as he looked to Sakuth. "Captain, this is Kami Hrelle, my wife and our Ship's Counselor. And I believe you already know my First Officer?"

Now T'Varik regarded the other Vulcan, nodding politely. "Captain Sakuth."

Sakuth's expression hardened. "Your disclosure of my identity was a violation of Starfleet Security Directive 47.1, a court martial offence incurring a minimum sentence of 5 years' imprisonment."

T'Varik remained impassive. "Sub-Directive 47.1.4 stipulates that a limited disclosure of the identity of undercover Starfleet Intelligence operatives is allowed when their lives are in immediate danger, and when the benefits of the disclosure outweigh the harm -- as perfectly exemplified by our rescue of yourself, Professor Kessis and your Device."

Sakuth seemed to consider the argument. "That... might be arguable."

"Your apology is accepted."

Hrelle exchanged looks with Kami, who noted to the visitor, "Had T'Varik not said anything, we might have gone in unprepared, and maybe not been able to save you and your little project. Surely that warrants a Thank You, at the very least?"

Sakuth offered her a cold stare. "She performed her duties to the best of her abilities, Counselor -- such as they are. Gratitude is not required."

"Nor desired," T'Varik added, "Not from Captain Sakuth, at least."

"Well, before this descends into hair-pulling and boob punches," Hrelle butted in, "Commander, you said you had an update?"

T'Varik turned to him again. "Yes, Sir. We have updated Starfleet Command, and await a response. But the EMH prototype is not suitable to the task of healing Professor Kessis, and our own medical crew lack the experience and the mental discipline to survive close contact. However, it has been suggested by Doctor Masterson that a Vulcan telepathically link with Professor Kessis herself and allow her to assist in healing her own body, as she would of course be more familiar with-"

"No," Sakuth declared flatly.

Everyone looked to her, Hrelle asking, "Excuse me?"

The other Vulcan straightened up more formally. "It is not permitted to make any unauthorised telepathic contact with Professor Kessis, given the classified information she possesses."

"How did you communicate with her on the planet?" Kami asked.

"Among our party was Professor Shryalis, an Aenar scientist. As Aenars are blind and telepathic, she was ideal, and as a fellow member of the think tank, she already had sufficient security clearance."

"Professor Kessis' condition is said to be critical," T'Varik reminded Sakuth. "She could die without aid. She is the last surviving member of your group. Surely that makes this suggestion an unobjectionable security risk?"

"The Device is complete and intact and onboard, and its design can be analysed and duplicated. While her death would be regrettable, it would also be acceptable."

Hrelle rose to his feet, his expression taut. "Not to me. Why don't you volunteer, Captain? You've got the required security clearance level."

"I do, Captain. But Professor Kessis does not have my security clearance level. As such a telepathic link would involve a mutual exchange of thoughts between both parties, I cannot risk her possibly gaining access to classified intelligence above her level."

"You'd rather let her die?" Kami asked, appalled.

"Yes," T'Varik confirmed coldly, still staring at Sakuth. "She would. Captain Hrelle, I will volunteer for the task of linking with Professor Kessis."

"No," Sakuth retorted before Hrelle could. "You will not." She looked to Hrelle. "You are forbidden from authorising this action."

He leaned over his desk towards the visitor, beckoning her to come closer and whispering in mock confidentiality, "I don't know if they told you when you beamed onboard, but I'm in command here; I have a note from my Mom that says so. I keep it tucked behind my ballsack if you want to go down and have a read."

Sakuth's expression furrowed. "Your notorious predilection for puerile obscenity appears well founded. In my capacity as a senior operative of Starfleet Intelligence, I am ordering you not to allow any unauthorised telepathic contact with Professor Kessis. Failure to comply will result in the imposition of the strictest penalties, up to and including a maximum sentence of twenty years' incarceration. Am I making myself clear, Captain?"

Hrelle stared at her soberly, before looking to Kami and winking. "Did you hear that? I'm notorious!"

Kami winked back at him. "You don't have to tell me, Sugartail."

T'Varik remained formal. "Captain Sakuth, Starfleet Security Protocols require you to provide proper authorisation before you can issue such an order."

"You are already aware of my authorisation, Commander."

T'Varik shook her head. "You are listed in our records as a Doctor Vassak, graduate of Exo-Meteorology at the Vulcan Science Academy, civilian specialist with the Federation Science Council, assigned to Shangris IX. As such, you do not have the authority."

Sakuth offered a look of -- for a Vulcan -- naked contempt. "Your predilection for childish semantics is demonstrative of the stagnant and limited outlook you have always possessed. You remain an individual of self-imposed insignificance."

"Captain Sakuth," Hrelle growled. "That's my First Officer you're disrespecting. Play nice, or I'll take away your Secret Decoder Ring." He touched a desk control. "Lieutenant C'Rash, come in here." Seconds later, the black-furred Caitian entered, her posture stiff as she focused on the visiting Vulcan, and Hrelle ordered, "Lieutenant, escort our guest to the VIP quarters."

C'Rash's gaze narrowed like phaser beams on Sakuth as she replied through clenched teeth, "Yes, Sir."

Sakuth ignored the Caitian to focus on Hrelle. "I demand a priority channel to Admiral Trenagen."

He nodded. "I usually respond to demands with an invitation you'll probably find notoriously puerile and obscene. However, we'll see what we can do about that. In the meantime, we'll proceed with saving Professor Kessis' life." He looked to C'Rash. "Lieutenant?"

C'Rash nodded to the door. "Would you follow me, please... Ma'am?"

Sakuth relaxed her posture and followed C'Rash out, the others' gazes following. As the doors slid shut, T'Varik noted, "The Lieutenant is aware of my past association with Sakuth?"

"Yes," Kami confirmed. "Though I warned her not to start anything." She glanced back at the door before adding, "Actually, she's handling it better than I thought. Sakuth got out without any scratches."

T'Varik looked to Hrelle, who shrugged. "Our territorial natures come out when the Exes show up. Now look, are you sure you wish to go through with this? I know every Vulcan mindmeld is risky and very personal, not to mention that we're also dealing with a Medusan here-"

"I acknowledge the risks, Captain, but I welcome the unique opportunity, not just to assist in saving the life of a scientist, but in making contact with their mind." She raised an eyebrow. "It should serve well to expand an individual of self-imposed insignificance such as myself."

*

C'Rash moved briskly down the corridor, with Sakuth directly behind her, neither woman saying anything until the Chief of Security stopped outside one door, allowing it to slide open and stay open as she indicated the interior. "There is a private replicator for food; should you require a change of clothes, order some from our fabricators and a member of the Support crew will deliver them to you. When your Priority Channel with Admiral Trenagen is established, you will be informed. It will of course be secure and encrypted."