Surefoot 38: The War Watchers

"Acknowledged, Lieutenant. Give them the coordinates of the Shuttlebay, and confirm a beam-in time of five minutes from now. Hrelle out." Finally he had enough, and called out, "Computer: End Program."

The phasers in the twins' hands powered down, and the holographic sitting and corpses vanished. Isole turned back to him, his skin turning a darker shade of purple with anger. "How dare you? We were having fun! I order you to restore power!"

"I'm afraid that's not possible, Your Highness. We have a schedule to keep with the Klingons."

The Prince strode up to him, raising his open hand as if to strike Hrelle again.

Hrelle didn't move a muscle, except to tell him in a low, dangerous growl, "Don't."

Isole froze, relaxing his arm, apprehension in his expression.

Now T'Varik stepped forward. "We do not wish Your Highnesses to miss the opportunity to meet Klingons in the flesh. That is why you boarded our vessel, is it not?"

Odede joined her brother, regarding the First Officer like something under her boots. "You have kept us waiting long enough, Vulcan. You are not as efficient as your people's reputation claims, are you?"

T'Varik raised an eyebrow, but otherwise remained composed as she replied, "I will accept your criticism with all its inherent worth." She indicated the door. "If you'll follow us, please?"

As they began filing out, C'Rash approached Hrelle. "Captain, are you sure we shouldn't have a full Security detail with us down there? The Klingons-"

"-Are on an uncommon errand of mercy. And we agreed that neither party will meet with weapons." He smiled. "Besides, if there's trouble, we can use the Twins as shields."

*

The Shuttlebay had been cleared of personnel, and the shuttlecraft stacked away, this being the best place for accepting the wounded Starfleet personnel from the Augr. Hrelle gently but firmly insisted that the two Nekrosi stand aside from everyone else, before tapping his combadge. "Hrelle to Bridge: we're ready."

"Acknowledged: four to beam in. No weapons detected on them, as per the agreement."

Hrelle was silently grateful; despite himself, a part of him feared that this was indeed a trap, though Klingons were generally known for keeping their word. Still, he tensed as he saw the four crimson-red columns coalesce before them: a female he recognised from the transmission as Captain Julkrehl, two unidentified males, and one definitely identified male... Kline! Doctor Kline, who had been serving on the Surefoot as part of the Medical Exchange Program before the war started! But then he held back his reaction, unsure if the surgeon had made his current compatriots aware of his prior association here.

So he focused on Julkrehl, nodding curtly and respectfully to her. "NuqneH, Captain. Welcome onboard the Surefoot."

She nodded back; her recorded image did not do justice to her air of command and authority. "Captain Hrelle. I commend your courage in agreeing to this meeting."

"As I commend yours, for arranging for this in the first place."

"I have been reliably informed that you would do the same for Klingon patients, under the circumstances." She stuck out her chin. "We may not normally use our weapons in our work, but we are as fierce as our compatriots."

"More," Hrelle countered, smiling and indicating his officers. "My Counselor and wife, Kami, my First Officer Commander T'Varik, Chief of Security Lt Shall, and Chief Medical Officer Doctor Masterson." After a pause he added, nodding to the twins. "These are... visitors from the Nekrosi Commonwealth. They were eager to see real life Klingons."

Julkrehl grunted, barely acknowledging the Nekrosi, before making her own introductions. "My First Officer Commander Kalloq, my Second Officer Lieutenant Trebek... and I believe you are already familiar with my Chief Medical Officer Doctor Kline."

The other Klingons nodded, but Kline stepped forward, as if ready to challenge Hrelle. "He does, Captain... and I note the Fat Cat is not as fat as when I last saw him. Have you finally seen sense and started to diet, Caitian?"

Hrelle chuckled. "I only eat Klingons now. You're all tough." They clasped hands, before Kami joined them. "You remember my Other Half?"

"Your Better Half, you mean?" Kline embraced Kami, before glancing down. "Another one?"

"Yes, Doctor, a girl."

"Qapla! I didn't think your husband had it in him! And Sasha and the Warrior Prince? They are well?"

"Sasha is a Lieutenant now, serving as an Operations Officer on various ships in the Fleet. And now that Misha is toilet trained, he's ready to take on the Empire."

Kline bellowed. "Good! Good! It will be a glorious battle!"

Behind Julkrehl, one of her senior officers, a younger, scowling male, sneered at the scene. "We did not come to exchange pleasantries, Starfleet-"

"BIjatlh 'e' yImev, Trebek!" Julkrehl snapped, barely glancing behind her. "They were shipmates! They have spilled blood together! You are a pup compared to them... and the rest of us!" But then she focused on Hrelle. "But our time is limited, Captain, and certain Klingons back in our fleet are eager to find any excuse for me to fail. So-"

Hrelle faced his counterpart again. "Of course. Doctor Masterson's medical staff have the record you sent us, and have prepped our Sickbays, but we thought the wounded could be beamed directly here, where we-"

A sound from C'Rash caught his attention -- and then he barely dodged a white beam of energy that cut just past his left forearm, singeing the sleeve of his dress uniform.

And struck Julkrehl squarely in the chest, sparks and flames erupting from her armour and flesh as she was propelled backwards to the bulkhead.

Hrelle spun towards the source of the energy beam... seeing Isole and Odede standing there, their Nekrosi weapons in hand. Isole's eyes were wide with glee and his voice exultant. "I got her! I win!"

Odede cursed and raised her own weapon towards the Klingons.

Hrelle and C'Rash moved as one, each of them tackling the Nekrosi and disarming them. Hrelle crouched over Isole, his claws bared as he roared, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

The Nekrosi prince stared up in terror and confusion at the response from the Caitian.

Noise from behind made Hrelle look behind him, where he saw the Klingon captain on the bulkhead, her body spasming, Kline and Masterson kneeling on either side, the CMO snapping, "Neuroleptic beam- cascade reaction- gotta get her to Sickbay-"

Then Julkrehl's body stopped reacting.

Her First Officer Kalloq gasped... but her Second Officer stepped back, his face twisting with rage. "We came here under the terms of ceasefire! Unarmed! And this is how you repay us, Hrelle? With treachery?" He drew out his communicator. "Jol ylchu!"

"Trebek!" Kalloq barked at him. "No! They did not-"

But the Second Officer beamed away.

The doctors were lifting up Julkrehl's body, Masterson noting, "We still have a chance to save her! But we have to move, now!" They raced out, Kalloq following them.

Kami was at Hrelle's side, examining the burn on his sleeve. He shrugged off her concern, as T'Varik warned, "Captain, if the Klingons suspect treachery-"

She didn't finish, as Hrelle smacked his combadge. "Bridge: Red Alert! Raise shields and open a channel to the Klingons, but do not power weapons! Even if fired upon!" As the Red Alert klaxon sounded, he continued. "T'Varik, help C'Rash get those two in the Brig, then both of you get to the Bridge!"

"I'll go to Sickbay," Kami volunteered.

"Be careful! If they can't revive her, her First Officer might want revenge-"

"Kalloq won't hurt me," she assured her husband.

He didn't have time to question her perceptions, racing to the Bridge. Seven Hells, what had happened? How did the Nekrosi power up one of their weapons? Why attack the Klingons? And if they didn't revive Julkrehl, how would they manage to retrieve the wounded POWs?

Seven Hells...

He took in the tactical display immediately, but still barked, "Report!"

Neheru rose from the Captain's Chair, joining Hrelle at the Tactical board behind them. "Sir, the Augr's shields are raised and its weapons are powered, but they have not as yet moved or responded to our hails -- but they did send a transmission back to the Klingon lines." He indicated the profile of the Augr. "A Waqboch-class transport, eighty years old, Type-6 disruptors, no match for our shields or weapons, Sir."

Hrelle growled. "I'm not worried about them, just our people over there... and the reinforcements they've called."

The alert sounded, as Velkovsky at the Helm cried, "They're firing!"

"Evasive Pattern Alpha!" Hrelle took his seat as he saw twin ruby-red disruptor bolts shot forth from the Augr, striking the Surefoot's shields and making the vessel shudder, before they banked on a hard starboard. They wouldn't easily pierce the Surefoot's shields, but give them time...

From the Tactical station, one of the cadets on duty, a young Zakdorn female whose name escaped Hrelle, stammered with a growing panic, "S-Sir, we- we have to fire back!"

"Cadet-"

"They'll kill us!"

"Cadet, stand down! Ensign Doyle, take over!" He let the exchange take place while he called up data on his chair panels, focusing on a lime-green ice giant planet at the edge of this system. "Irina! Take us in, 128-mark-312! That planet's magnetic pole is feistier than Misha after he's had too much sugar! Get us in there for sensor cover! Ignore the Klingons if they fire again!" As Velkovsky complied, he turned back to the anxious-looking Security cadet. "What's your name again?"

The Zakdorn swallowed. "C-Cadet Taeni Marru, Sir."

"Ms Marru, I decide when we fire. No one else. Is that understood?"

She nodded. "Y-Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir."

"If I let you return to your station, do you think you can remember that?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Resume your duties." He rose as he heard the Bridge doors slide open and he caught the scent of C'Rash and T'Varik, and faced them. "Well?"

The Vulcan responded first. "The Nekrosi have been disarmed and confined to the Brig."

Hrelle felt his hands ball into fists. "I thought they had already been disarmed when we beamed them onboard!"

"The Transporter emptied the power cells in their hand weapons," C'Rash confirmed sharply. "As expected."

"But it ignored their antigravity harnesses," T'Varik finished. "As the Transporter subroutines identified these as necessary life support equipment. However, both the weapons and the harnesses employ identical power cells, and the Nekrosi were able to employ some of the emergency cells on the harnesses."

Hrelle cursed. "I want something done about that: a security algorithm warning us, or a subroutine removing the weapons altogether, or disabling them completely-"

"I will, Sir," C'Rash promised.

"Did they at least give a reason for what they did? Were they hired, or was it revenge, or-"

"It was a game, Captain," T'Varik informed him, unable or unwilling to hide her distaste at the notion. "Apparently they have not been satisfied with Mr Navarro delivering them to the wreckage of vessels to collect souvenirs. They wanted the opportunity to kill a Klingon, and competed to see which of them would be first once the opportunity arose."

Hrelle stared, before simply turning back, pointing to the viewscreen, which showed the planet they were rapidly approaching. "Take over, rig us for Silent Running and drop us into its magnetic well, plot a course for maximum sensor obfuscation. It'll buy us some time."

"Until what?" C'Rash asked. "Until Klingon reinforcements arrive, or our own?"

"Until Captain Julkrehl is back on her feet and able to retake her command, and we can collect our wounded- shit." He moved to a display and called up a status. "Good, the Holodeck is still running."

T'Varik confirmed the readings. "Your command protocols keeping the Holodeck running during Red Alert when Misha is in there remain in force. You do not wish to end it now?"

He considered it, but then shook his head. The Holodeck was in the centre of the ship, the safest place, and its infrastructure possessed sensor and transporter blocks... as well as certain built-in subroutines for Misha's protection. Besides, he had a whole squad watching out for him in there.

*

Misha and Alpha Squad stood at the edge of a deep, wide ravine, as the program's narrator helpfully illustrated, "The Crooked Tailed Cub and his friends stood wondering how they could cross this dangerous gap safely, and reach the Pirates' Lair in time."

"Well," Zir said, kneeling beside a pensive Misha, playing along. "What do you think?"

The cub's ears twitched. "Jump!"

"Hmm, no, I don't think so. It's too wide, and Urad and Stalac aren't very good jumpers."

"Birds! The birds can carry us!"

"Hmm, we might be too heavy for birds."

Astrid never bothered to stifle her yawn as she leaned against a nearby vine-strewn tree. "Just start walking, the program's safeties won't let us fall to our deaths, after all- oww!"

Beside her, Tori still held her hand up. "Play along, skank, or shut your piehole!"

"Or you could just promise to spank me again, I'm looking forward to that."

"Come on, girls, quit your arguing!" Peter chided. "We have to work this out."

"Thank you, Mr Boone," Zir said... pausing to admire him once more, before noticing the thick, tall tree conspicuously close to the edge of the ravine, giving her an idea. She turned back to Misha. "I know: what if Stalac tunnelled just under that big tree, making it loose enough for Urad and the rest of us to push it over? Then we can use it as a bridge to cross the gap?"

Misha's eyes brightened. "Yeah! Yeah! Do it!"

Zir grinned and looked to the Horta. "Okay, Stal, loosen that tree's foundations. Mr Kaldron, are you ready to impress us with your strength?"

The Hroch Security cadet flexed his huge thick-hided arms. "Always, Comrade Squad Leader!"

Stalac moved to the foot of the tree in question, as acrid smoke rose from around his pancake-shaped perimeter, and he seemed to melt into the rock and dirt beneath him. The dirt and foliage around the tree's larger roots began to shudder, as if the foliage was uprooting itself and becoming ambulatory.

Then Urad leaned into the other side of the tree, grunting as he pushed, and pushed. "Hmm... this is proving... formidable..."

Peter grinned and drew up. "Lemme give you a hand, pal."

Urad grunted again. "All- Comrades- are welcome to assist-"

And Zir watched the human's muscles flex in his arms and shoulders, the sweat glistening along the pale biceps and-

"He's gay, you know."

She started; Astrid had somehow snuck up beside her. "What?"

The coffee-skinned human female smiled and nodded towards Peter. "He's gay."

"What, happy?"

"Sorry, old-time Terran slang, doesn't always get picked up by some UT units. He's He-sided? A Ploughman? Homosexual?" After a pause at Zir's lack of comprehension, she leaned in closer. "He loves men."

Zir flushed dark green with embarrassment. "That's not funny, Cadet."

"It's not meant to be. It's just that everyone else but you seems to have picked up on this, and you're making your love for him rather obvious."

"Shh!" Zir scolded, indicating Misha, though the cub seemed more fixed by the struggles between the boys and the tree, and now Stalac was working on dissolving the larger, more stubborn roots. She dropped her voice to a whisper. "I am not in love with Peter!"

"Infatuation, then?"

Zir ground her teeth, looking to Tori, who stood nearby. "Tell her she's talking crap!"

Tori looked between the two girls -- then joined the boys in pushing against the tree, though her actual efforts seemed token at best.

"See?" Astrid pointed out with amusement. "Look, I'm not saying you can't admire the framework, I know I do, just don't think you're getting a ride out of it-"

"Enough!" She stepped forward, speaking loudly now. "Come on, everyone get in and start pushing! We can get this tree pushed over! I know it!"

And they all joined in, pushing against the bark or against Urad... and the tree began groaning in protest, louder, louder... and the tree began tilting forward, towards the ravine, leaves and twigs shaking from it.

Urad grunted and growled, clearly putting in most of the physical effort... "Comrades... forgive me, but..."

Zir wanted to argue with him, reassure him that no one would blame him if the tree proved too much for even his prodigious strength... when she understood, as the Hroch let out a long, ripping fart, immediately accompanied with the most horrifying smell that made the others back away in disgust and cover their mouths and noses... and Misha roll about on the ground, laughing uproariously.

But the tree did fall, its upper half reaching the other side of the ravine and making the birds on the neighbouring trees fly off; Zir suspected the tree had reacted to Urad's flatulence.

"Urad, your ass must be listed as a Weapon of Mass Destruction!" Tori declared, coughing and covering her mouth and nose with her hand.

"Yeah," Zir agreed. "That was- my eyes are watering-"

"Forgive me, Comrades," he responded, looking at their reactions with some resignation. "Perhaps I should have visited the hygiene chamber before accompanying you on this adventure?"

"There's no 'perhaps' about it," Peter coughed. "Hroch digestive processes take twice as long as most humanoids... the results speak for themselves."

"Actually, I like the aroma," Stalac informed them happily. "Like the sulfur biscuits my Egg Mother used to bake for our clutch after school."

Misha was still rolling around on the ground, laughing and pointing at Urad. "YOU FARTED!"

Zir shook her head; her own brother would react in a similar fashion... still, she was glad for the distraction, if not the smell involved. "Right, let's get across the ravine and see to those pirates."

*

Kami stood beside Kalloq as they watched the swarm of doctors and nurses around the biobed where Julkrehl lay, the overhead readings remaining alarmingly flat as they tried measure after measure to revive her.

Kami split her attention between Julkrehl and her First Officer, before finally faking a pain in her abdomen, drawing Kalloq's attention. "Counselor, do you require a doctor-"

She shook her head, pretending to grimace in pain. "No, let them work on Julkrehl... can you just help me to that chair over there, and stay with me, please?"

He grunted, the reluctance to draw away from his captain clear but overridden as he assisted her. She clung to his arm as he helped her to the seat, in case he decided to leave her... all the while feeling his pulse, checking his reaction to her words. "If anyone can save her, they can. They're the best, and they have your own CMO to assist, who's familiar with our equipment and techniques already, as well as Klingon physiology."

"They have to save her," he declared numbly. "They have to."

"How long have you served with her?"

"Two years. Before this assignment, we were a fleet tender for our outposts along the Romulan border." He ground his teeth. "Many, including young fools like Trebek, believe it a disgrace to serve under a female. They have no idea of the honour it is. She is courageous and tenacious, has earned her place, stood up to formidable opponents-"

"You're in love with her," she concluded.

He looked to her, quickly hiding his astonishment at her perception. "You- You are mistaken- I am not!"

"Liar. You love her, but you never told her."

He snarled, pulling from her touch... but fixed on Julkrehl again, his voice low. "She must never find out. No one must. I am her First Officer, above all else. It would compromise her authority."