Surefoot 38: The War Watchers

In the Transporter Room, Hrelle was met by Doctor Kline. "You will need me over there, Captain."

"Are you sure you don't want to stay with your patients?"

Kline joined him on the Transporter pad. "They are in good hands, and Trebek may believe the news about Julkrehl and Kalloq from me."

Hrelle accepted the offer, though he had doubts if Trebek was willing to believe him. "Beam us over."

*

Armed guards met them in the Klingon Transporter Room. Kline stepped forward. "The Captain and First Officer live! They are being treated on the Surefoot-"

The guard nearest Kline struck the doctor's face with the back of his hand. "Traitorous petaQ! Captain Trebek warned us that you would lie for your Federation masters!"

Kline wiped the blood from his mouth, snarling. "Captain Trebek, huh? DenIb Qatlh! I'll rip the tongue from his lying mouth-"

The other guards aimed their disruptors at him. Hrelle raised a hand. "Doctor, no! Now's not the time!" As the guards focused on the Caitian, he ordered, "Take us to Trebek."

They were marched to the Bridge, which proved larger than what he had seen on the viewscreen of the Surefoot. The single Captain's chair on a raised dais in the centre spun around, and Trebek reclined on it, acting like he had belonged there all along. "So, at last I have you, Hrelle."

The Caitian crossed his arms. "Yeah. And all it took was for me to volunteer to come over. Now, fulfil your side of the deal: beam over your prisoners to my ship."

Trebek grinned, revealing yellowed, crooked teeth. "All in good time, Hrelle. There is a debt to be paid first. You killed our Captain and First Officer-"

"Lies!" Kline bellowed, as much to address those Klingons who surrounded them as to counter Trebek's deception. "Two aliens attacked Julkrehl, but we saved her life, with Kalloq's help! They will return-"

Trebek rose to his feet. "Traitor! I saw them fall at Hrelle's perfidious hand! And with your aid, too! We all know how much you influenced Julkrehl's foolish decision to meet with the Fat Cat."

Kline snarled -- until Hrelle put a hand on the doctor's arm. "Don't." Then Hrelle stepped forward, regaining their attention. "If Julkrehl is dead like you say, then fulfil her final orders, and hand over the wounded prisoners. There is no honour in using them as bargaining chips-"

Trebek stepped down. "Don't not speak of honour, Starfleet! Your actions have proven you lack any! You murder our officers-"

"They're not dead! Scan my ship for Klingon lifesigns, and you'll detect both of them-"

Trebek drew his mek'leth blade and brought the tip to the base of Hrelle's furred throat. "Enough! Are you ready to die, Starfleet?"

Hrelle kept still, calm. He had to keep delaying the inevitable, until it turned out.. evitable? Is that even a word? "I do have one request to make before I die: could you contact your mother, please, and confirm something for me?"

That gave the Klingon pause. "Wha- What?"

"Your mother?" Hrelle responded calmly, casually. "I was shtupping her last night, and I ended up with the most terrible itching sensation around my nethers this morning. And it turns out I picked up a nasty case of Romulan Crabs, and knowing how often your mother bends over and spreads for Romulans, I figure I must have gotten dosed by her-"

Trebek roared and swung back to plunge the blade into Hrelle's chest. But the Caitian captain was ready for him, dodging and driving his boot up between the Klingon's legs, before shifting to find more space to manoeuvre -- not an easy task, given the cramped conditions of the Klingon Bridge and the occupants present. He extended his claws, hoping that his niece had underestimated his level of skill, and that he could take on a younger, fitter, armed Klingon.

And Trebek was all that -- though he was also almost clumsy with rage, as per Hrelle's intention. "I'LL SPLIT YOU IN TWO!"

Hrelle chuckled. "That's what I told your mother last night, Trebek."

The Klingon charged forward again -- and Hrelle surprised even himself with how quickly he reacted, using an Aikido move to disarm Trebek and flip him over his shoulder, before kicking away the knife. "You know, I'm only telling you these things as a courtesy, in case you go home and end up getting infected as well while she's giving you your bath-"

Trebek howled and charged, but this time caught him off-guard, sending both of them torpedoing forward, Hrelle, Hrelle slamming his lower back into the sharp edge of a bridge station panel and sending shards of white-hot pain through his spine. But he ignored the pain, raking his claws deeply into the left side of Trebek's face, drawing red-black blood as he wrapped a forearm around the Klingon's throat, twisting his body down to one knee, immobilising him. That's it... just a little tighter, and he could snap the neck-

He released Trebek, letting him drop, coughing and spluttering to the bulkhead, before the Caitian took in the others surrounding him, grimacing with lingering pain in his back, but determined to show them no weakness. "I didn't come here to fight. I didn't come to kill. I came here because of your Captain." He paused to point at Trebek. "Not this usurper. Your real Captain. The one who was brave enough to arrange a flag of ceasefire, and do a decent, honourable thing.

And I swore to be just as brave, and honour it too. Captain Julkrehl was injured on my ship, not because of myself or my crew, but because of the actions of a pair or Nekrosi visitors following their own dishonourable agenda. But she lives, as does your First Officer. They are not our prisoners. They will return."

"He speaks the truth," Kline confirmed, pointing at the image of the Surefoot on their viewscreen. "Look at that ship! It can outfly us, outgun us!" He pointed to Hrelle now. "This man destroyed the Guvagh Task Force single-handedly! But he honours the ceasefire!"

"We may be enemies now," Hrelle continued. "But we share history. We share honour-"

"Lies!" Trebek snarled, helping himself back to his feet, staggering as he faced Hrelle. "You know nothing of honour!"

"No? I wasn't the one with a knife at the throat of a wounded, helpless man. I wasn't the one who reneged on his promise to release his prisoners. I wasn't the one who used this opportunity to steal command from someone more deserving-"

Trebek turned away from Hrelle and Kline and to the other Klingons. "Kill them! Kill them both! I command it!"

But none of the Klingons moved to comply.

Until an alert sounded from one of the bridge stations, and one young Klingon junior officer moved instinctively to respond to it. "Task Force Moshtirhk has arrived in response to our signal! As has a Starfleet vessel! It-" He gasped. "It is one of the Defiant-class vessels!"

Hrelle saw the reaction from the other Klingons -- they had obviously heard about the Defiant-class warships -- and he slapped his combadge. "Hrelle to Ajax! Weynik, stand down! Take no action against the Klingons! We're still honouring the ceasefire here!"

The Roylan's voice responded. "Captain Hrelle? How do I know you're not acting under duress?"

"Because you're the Squab."

After a moment, Weynik replied, "Ajax standing down. Weynik out."

Hrelle moved around now, looking at them all. "There, just as I said. And also just as I said, your Captain and First Officer are alive!"

"He lies!" Trebek declared. "I saw them die at his hands! I swear, on my honour!"

Then twin columns of transporter energy dominated the Bridge, quickly coalescing into Captain Julkrehl and Commander Kalloq.

All eyes turned back on Trebek, who gasped, swallowed, and tried to recover. "C-Captain! You live! I- I saw you die at the hands of this dishonourable petaQ!"

Julkrehl stepped up to him. "I see only one dishonourable petaQ here."

Then she drew out her own blade and rammed it into his gut.

Trebek gurgled, eyes bulging, as she twisted the blade in him. Then she withdrew it again, letting the body fall to the bulkhead.

She sheathed her still-bloodied blade and took her place in her chair. "Flush that refuse into space. Tactical: power down weapons. Communications: signal Captain Moshtirhk, thank him for his timely arrival, but assure him that there is no need to destroy the enemy vessels; Starfleet is still keeping to the terms of the ceasefire, and so shall we." After a moment, she barked, "Move!"

As her crew quickly followed orders, she became aware of Kalloq moving to her side, standing guard as always, and she focused on Hrelle fully. "My First Officer will oversee the transfer of our wounded prisoners of war over to you, once you return to your ship."

"Thank you, Captain Julkrehl. For everything."

"Captain... the weak and decadent Federation will fall before the unstoppable might of the Klingon Empire." Then she offered a sly smile. "But not today. Probably tomorrow.

The day after, at the latest, I'm certain of it."

Hrelle smiled. "Then I'd best get back to my ship and prepare."

"I wouldn't look so eager to get back if I were you, Captain. I was there with your wife when she learned you had beamed over here to play the hero." She grunted. "I do not know what a 'kussik' is, but she is apparently prepared to claw you out a new one." She spoke to her Bridge crew in Klingon, prompting laughter.

Hrelle's smile dropped. "I, uh, don't suppose I could fill in as a Second Officer for you, for a few days?"

*

"Captain's Log, Supplemental: we have completed the transfer of the wounded Starfleet POWs to our ship, and the initial word from our medical staff is that all will make a full recovery. I am... very pleased. Not just for the wounded, but for the fact, despite the War, our former allies and I can still reach an understanding. It gives me hope for the future.

I have less hope for the Nekrosi. We sent word to Admiral Tattok, and he has responded with the news that the Cavalier is joining the Ajax and the Surefoot now at the rendezvous point in No Man's Land, and I have been ordered to release Prince Isole and Princess Odede to them, regardless of their actions against the Klingons... and I have been ordered not to interfere in any way with their departure. Given the havoc they have caused, I should be bitter and resentful. But I am a mature and professional member of Starfleet, and I will have no problem with letting the Nekrosi go."

*

Hrelle escorted Navarro and the Twins to the Main Transporter Room. Navarro was smiling. "Captain, I know this isn't easy for you, but it's for the best-"

"Save it. I'm not interested in what you have to say."

The human made an amused sound. "I guess I can't blame you. If it's any comfort, their mother has ordered me to take them straight back to Nekrosi territory. You won't be seeing us in this sector of space again."

"I know I won't." He looked to the Prince and Princess. "Are you sure Your Highnesses don't want to stay onboard? I'm sure we can accommodate you both."

"Are you addled, Caitian?" Odede sneered. "The sooner we leave this garbage scow, the better."

"Really? We can escort you back-"

"You heard my clients, Captain," Navarro confirmed, smiling again. "Now, if there's nothing else-"

Hrelle indicated the raised Transporter pad. The three of them stepped up onto it, Isole turning and offering Hrelle a look of contempt. "This is not over between us, mongrel. When we return to our homeworld, and have the full resources of the Commonwealth at our disposal, then you will begin to regret treating us in this fashion. You'll pay."

Hrelle remained unfazed. "You have to get there first, Bubulah." He turned to the Transporter Chief. "Energise."

Once they vanished, Hrelle rushed back to the Bridge. "Mr Neheru, inform the Klingons that the Nekrosi who attempted to assassinate Captain Julkrehl have beamed back to the Cavalier. And tell them... Happy Hunting."

As the Kelpien obeyed, T'Varik looked to him. "Captain-"

A Tactical Alert interrupted her, as C'Rash reported, "Two Klingon Birds of Prey and a Nagbach-class light cruiser from the Moshtirhk Task Force have broken off from the rest and are pursuing theCavalier! She's taking evasive action!"

"Captain," Neheru spoke up now. "Message from the Ajax! Captain Weynik wants to know if we should intervene!"

Hrelle replied, still staring at T'Varik. "Remind Captain Weynik that we have received orders not to interfere in any way with the Cavalier's departure. Oh, and that he's still the Squab." He paused and asked her, "What?"

"Captain, regardless of the Nekrosi's appalling actions and attitudes, to allow a Federation civilian vessel to be attacked without rendering assistance-"

"Commander, my primary mission was to bring the wounded home safely... and yes, they do mean more to me than two spoiled murderous brats and a pack of mercenaries who knew what they were getting into by coming here. Besides, it's recognised Interstellar Law that a civilian vessel willingly entering a war zone, as the Cavalier has done, is not guaranteed assistance by a Starfleet vessel, if said Starfleet vessel is engaged in a priority mission. And I did give them an opportunity to remain onboard."

The Vulcan did not appear convinced. "It seems a question of semantics."

He smiled and winked. "Well, everyone says I put the 'Antics' into 'Semantics'."

Her expression remained deadpan. "No one has said that to you, ever, have they, Sir?"

His smile dropped. "Maybe not. Still, Navarro's an experienced mercenary, and his ship is fast. Maybe they'll evade the Klingons?"

Then C'Rash announced, "The Klingons have destroyed the Cavalier."

Hrelle shrugged. "Or maybe not."

*

Hrelle and Kami were waiting outside the Holodeck as the doors opened, and Misha rushed out first, leaping up into his father's arms, Hrelle adjusting his support of him as he asked, "And how is our own Crooked Tailed Cub? Have you had fun in there with Alpha Squad?"

"Yeah, yeah! Again! Again!"

"Another time, maybe." Kami grinned, as Alpha Squad emerged, their uniforms appearing visible once more. "Thank you, all of you; you've earned your own extra Holodeck credits. I hope you had more fun than we did, and that Misha wasn't too much trouble."

Zir grinned. "It was a pleasure, Counselor. And Misha was wonderful. Quite a brave young cub, taking on all those pirates and rescuing his sister!"

"Glad to hear it," Kami grinned, tickling under Misha's muzzle. "And what did you learn in there tonight, Cub of Mine?"

Misha pointed to each of the cadets in turn as he replied. "Urad's farts stink like Papa's! Rocky pees on the carpet! Astrid wants Tori to spank her! And Zir loves Peter, but Peter loves boys!"

The Squad's jaws dropped. Even those without jaws.

Hrelle looked to his wife. "How much did you pay for this program again?"

*

The Hrelle quarters was pitch black that evening, more so than most others, as they employed cancellers to block out the infrared spectrum that was part of their visual acuity... though for the cub who had awakened in his room, determined to settle matters once and for all, he didn't need light to navigate his way out into his parent's bedroom, his ears and nose telling him his Mama and Papa were there, asleep, Mama on her side, facing the door.

Misha drew closer, careful not to disturb them, until he could almost touch the bump on Mama's belly. He smelled Mama's fur there, listened carefully... and thought he could hear his sister's heartbeat, quickening instinctively with his proximity.

"Shhh," he hushed her, resting his fingertips on Mama's skin. "Go back to sleep. I'm Misha, your big brother. You still stinky. But you stay. I take care of you." He rubbed his muzzle against the belly.

At the head of the bed, Kami remained still, but asked in a low, sleepy voice, "Are you out of your bed, Misha?"

"No. You dream."

"Oh. That's good."

He snuck back to his room, pleased at having fooled Mama.

His parents lay there, chuckling to themselves in the dark.

THE ADVENTURES OF THE SUREFOOT WILL CONTINUE...