Surefoot 47: The Nanny State

“Stop with the jokes!” Hrelle growled now, baring his teeth. “I let you into my home, let you care for my cubs! I trusted you!”

Furore kept his eyes on Hrelle, as he uncoiled himself from his meditative position and slowly rose to a standing position. “Esek, you’re clearly upset, and that’s understandable with a new cub in the home. Let’s go have some spiced tea and we can talk-”

Hrelle had been watching, had been waiting, sure that he could see the trained solider, the trained killer, beneath the easy-going, jocular gonzo.

And he knew how to bring him to the surface.

He swung out, claws bared, fully expecting the Sabrecat’s fighting instincts to immediately block the move.

Except that nothing like that happened.

Instead, Hrelle’s claws connected with Furore’s snout, sending the young male sprawling and bleeding to the gramagrass at their feet.

*

Chase reached up and removed Masterson’s combadge, tossing it into the corner of the room; others did the same with the rest of the captives, as the Maquis leader ordered, “Sheppard, Dargi, get the transporter and scanner inhibitors set up, and hurry. Wicks, check the quarantine seal on the door. Kojald, start work on accessing their systems.”

Masterson watched the woman’s flushed, sweating face. “You don’t have Larosian Fever- but you’re still reading as such- you have the temperature and sweats-”

She grunted. “Cyberimplants deliver false readings to any medical scanning equipment nearby; a dose of procainazine is inducing the false symptoms. Very effective, though I hate sweating. Speaking of which: Chen, whip up some chloromydride for us to counteract, before we pass out from dehydration.”

“Whatever you’re up to, Captain,” Masterson warned. “You won’t get away with it.”

Chase nodded, not appearing intimidated by the warning. “In that case, Doctor, you and your staff have nothing to lose by just cooperating and entering the Isochamber, and wait for us to not get away with whatever we’re up to.” She motioned towards the unit at the far end of the Sickbay, prompting him to join the rest of his team moving to it-

Until Eydiir spun in place and struck out, knocking a human and Bajoran Maquis down, and reaching for a weapon from the third -- until the hulking Nausicaan shot her with a blue-white beam from his own weapon, striking her in the stomach and making her cry out and twist into a fetal ball as she fell.

“Eydiir!” Masterson rushed up to her, catching the Capellan girl and easing her to the floor. He looked up murderously at the Nausicaan-

But it was Chase who stepped forward. “What did you do that for?”

The Nausicaan’s face fangs clicked with amusement. “She was a fool.”

“Was she? She got you to discharge your weapon!”

*

On the Bridge, an alert on her Security board made C’Rash report, “We have weapons fire in Sickbay Three!”

T’Varik rose to her feet. “Yellow Alert! Captain to the Bridge! Doctor Masterson, respond!” The Red Alert klaxon filled the air, but there was no reply. “Sickbay Three, respond!” She looked to C’Rash. “Security Team to Sickbay Three!”

The Caitian nodded. “The Quarantine force fields are still in place. Should I override?”

“Negative, not until we ascertain the situation. Have your team secure the corridor.”

*

Hrelle stood over the younger male, feeling as shocked as Furore looked, as he clutched his bleeding snout. “Wha- WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR?”

Hrelle gasped, sheathing his claws and stepping back, sickened by the horror he saw on Furore’s expression, a horror brought about by his own action. “I- You didn’t- you didn’t try to stop me-”

“H-How was I supposed to know that you were going to hit me?” Furore exclaimed, eyes filled with... fear. Fear for Hrelle.

He got it wrong. He got it all wrong. He had worked himself up into this notion that the other male was hiding something. But he wasn’t. He was just a decent, caring male, one whom his cubs, his wife, all adored. “I’m- I’m sorry, Jhess, I didn’t- I thought that you- you were- here, let me help you up-”

He reached for him. Furore drew back.

Just as the Red Alert klaxon sounded, and T’Varik’s voice filled the air. “Captain Hrelle to the Bridge!”

Hrelle cursed -- of all the times to be called away! -- looking back at Furore, hands raised and open. “I’m sorry, Jhess, I have to go, but I’ll explain everything! I promise!”

The other male didn’t answer, but Hrelle couldn’t stay any longer, not knowing what was going on to warrant a Red Alert.

Seconds later, he entered the Bridge, as T’Varik turned to him. “Weapons fire detected in Sickbay Three, no response as yet from anyone within. The Quarantine fields are still up on the door, we have a Security team on standby in the corridor.”

“Internal scans?”

“The internal scanners in Sickbay Three are offline now,” C’Rash reported.

“Do we have an idea of the nature of the weapons fire detected?”

“Yes: neuroleptic-based.”

Hrelle nodded, both vexed and glad for the distraction of his appalling mistake in the Arboretum. “So, not from Ensign Gorman’s phaser, then. Contact the Azimech, get a report from them -- somehow someone over there must have allowed one of our so-called patients to bring at one weapon over here, maybe more. Evacuate the immediate area around Sickbay Three, lock down the corridors and Jefferies tubes.” He sat down, took a breath, and opened a channel. “Maquis: this is Captain Esek Hrelle. I wish to speak to your leader.”

After a moment, a woman responded. “Captain Hrelle, this is Captain Corrine Chase.”

Hrelle motioned for T’Varik beside him to look up the name, as he replied, “Captain Chase, are any of your people or mine hurt? Does anyone require medical assistance?”

“Your security guard is gonna wake up with a headache, and a rather tough little nurse has been shot in the stomach with a Miradorn stunbeam, but we’re allowing your Doctor to treat them both.”

“Thank you. I’m sure we can resolve this situation without anyone else being hurt on either side.”

“Very laudable, Captain Hrelle. I have no desire to see unnecessary pain inflicted on anyone.”

“Good. Let me speak with Doctor Masterson.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you need to understand who’s in charge here.”

Hrelle tensed... and then retorted, “Then there’s no point in continuing this.” He closed the channel, turning to T’Varik. “Who is she?”

The Vulcan looked at him. “Captain, was that prudent? She has already demonstrated a willingness to harm their hostages-”

“This is just the start of negotiations, not the end. Now, get me what you can on her, before she calls back.”

She nodded, and he looked ahead, trusting his instincts.

At least, until he remembered just how wrong he had been with Jhess, mere moments before.

*

Kami poked her head into Jhess’ quarters through the door from the cubs’ room. “Jhess, sorry to bother you, but as you heard, it’s a Red Alert, I have to report to my duty station-”

From his bathroom, Jhess called back cheerfully, “Understood, Sweetie, you go do your job, I’ll do mine! Be right in to check on Misha and My Lady!”

“Thanks, Jhess!”

From his place on the Hrelles’ couch, Misha, colouring on a PADD, chuckled. “Jhess called you ‘Sweetie’! He loves you!”

Kami checked on Sreen, asleep in her crib, before rushing past her son, advising, “Be a good cub for Jhess.”

“I will!”

Before going out the door, she stopped, picked up a pillow from the corner of the couch, declaring, “He doesn’t love me!” and threw the pillow at Misha, who dodged, laughing.

As soon as the door closed, the toddler rushed into Jhess’ quarters, and into his bathroom. “Jhessie! We play Purr-Prowl-Pounce-” Then he stopped and stared, frowning. “What happened? Who scratched you? I fight them! You see!”

Jhess was standing by the mirror, passing the tip of an autosuture over the scratches on his snout. “Calm down, Misha; not everything is as it appears to be. I scratched myself accidentally when I was napping and had a nightmare.”

“Oh. Why you no go to Sickbay? Doc Cowboy fix you up!”

Jhess examined his reflection, ensuring all traces of Hrelle’s assault on him were gone. “It sounds like they might be busy with other things right now.”

Misha growled to himself. “I no like nightmares.”

Jhess put away his autosuture and looked to him. “Do you have many nightmares?”

Misha nodded, his expression cooling. “Monsters come for me. Snake monsters. Wanna hurt me and Mama and Papa and Sasha. No like monsters.”

“Me neither.” Then Jhess slipped on a smile and looked down at the cub. “Let’s play a game: Who Has the Stinkiest Diaper? Who do you think might win that?”

“Sreen!” Misha laughed. “She Stinky Cub!”

Jhess laughed too and led him out.

*

T’Varik nodded to the image of the human woman she conjured onto the screen before her. “Captain Corrine Chase, Terran, age 48, former commander of the scout ship USS Ning Hai, received commendations for successful reconnaissance missions on the Federation-Cardassian border. In 2370 she disabled the transponder on her vessel and guided it into the DMZ, placing those crewmembers unwilling to desert into escape pods, and has since been reported leading raids on Starfleet and Cardassian vessels. Reports indicate an effort on her part to avoid casualties.”

He nodded. He was hoping that his initial instincts about Chase had been correct. “Ask my wife to come up here, if she can; we might need her psychological advice.”

From Ops, Neheru reported, “Message from the Azimech, Captain: the transporter officer who beamed over the patients has been arrested, and confessed to being one of the Maquis, but has wiped the transporter records, and refuses to say anything about what Captain Chase has planned or what weapons or equipment might have been beamed onboard with them.”

“Thank them, but warn them to stay on Security Alert in case there are more waiting to cause trouble.” As he was hailed from Sickbay Three, he looked to T’Varik as he acknowledged, “Captain Chase?”

A different voice responded. “Masterson here, Sir. They’re letting me confirm that we’re all alive, Gorman has a concussion but we’re patching him up now. Eydiir got roughed up some, but she’ll recover, too, with some-”

The rest of his statement was cut off, as Chase took over again. “There you go, Captain, you’ve marked your territory, I’ve established our bona fides, now we can move onto the business at hand.”

“Fair enough, Captain. What do you want?”

“Your ship.”

He paused, glancing behind him to see Kami enter and approach C’Rash for an update, before he focused on the situation at hand. “You wouldn’t like my ship, Captain; it has a great big red pawprint on the dorsal side. Very garish. How about a runabout instead? Something nice and sporty?”

“No thanks, Captain. Your ship is far better armed than any runabout. We’re going to need its phasers and torpedoes, not to mention its enhanced shields, speed and manoeuvrability.”

“I see. And what do you intend to do with it?”

“Sorry, Captain, I’d rather not offer any spoilers.”

He nodded. “I understand, Captain. I’ll need some time to discuss the proceedings for handing over the ship with my senior officers.”

“You mean try to work out a strategy for getting in here and rescuing the hostages?”

“Of course.”

“You have five minutes. Chase out.”

Hrelle rose and faced his officers. “Mr Neheru, inform Admiral Tattok about the situation, I want automated updates sent every five minutes. Lt Shall, I want time-delay commands hidden in the computer, to shut down everything but life support in one hour, in case things go wrong for us; they’re not taking our ship back to the DMZ.”

T’Varik frowned. “You believe that is their goal, Sir? It would be more logical to assume that they want a means of escape from incarceration.”

“No,” Kami interjected, looking up from a transcription of the Bridge logs and communications of the last ten minutes. “This is about vengeance. For the last three years or more, the Maquis and their fight has been their lives. Then, in the space of three days, their lives have been turned upside-down. They’ve been driven from their worlds, seen family and friends killed. In the subsequent weeks, while onboard the Azimech, they have had to process their loss. The urge to return and continue the fight is now exigent with them.”

“But it’d be futile!” C’Rash exclaimed. “One Sabre-class starship against the Dominion and Cardassian ships in the DMZ? They’d just end up dying in something slightly more powerful than the refitted scouts and runabouts they were using before!”

Kami crossed her arms. “At this stage, that’s not the worst case scenario for them. Surviving is. Knowing that the fight is lost, that family and friends will go unavenged, and that they may spend the next few years in prison... these scenarios are unacceptable.” She looked to her husband. “You need to give them something more than that, if you want to get them to surrender.”

“Are the hostages in danger?”

Kami frowned. “Before the massacre in the DMZ, I’d have said No. Now... there will always be a risk.”

“Captain,” C’Rash spoke up. “I was running another sweep of the systems while preparing the Shutdown protocols- they must have already established a link into our systems before we were alerted to them!”

*

In Sickbay Three, one of Chase’s people looked up from the console she sat at. “I have access to the primary systems via their Auxiliary Control! Rerouting control of their Engineering and Diagnostics to this station!”

“Good work, Sheppard.”

Nearby, the Nausicaan was pacing impatiently. “We need their weapons systems!”

Chase glanced at him. “Later. We need to clear the ship first.”

“Open the airlocks on them!”

Chase glowered at him. “No one is getting killed or hurt in this operation.”

Masterson, inside the Isochamber with the other hostages, stood by the intercom, listening. “Y’all could have fooled me.”

Chase turned and approached, her expression taut. “Save your sanctimony, Doctor. The Federation loves being a Nanny State, regulating the lives of its citizens... until it becomes inconvenient, and then people are abandoned to fend for themselves.”

“No one was abandoned! Efforts were made to clear the DMZ and find new homes-”

“They didn’t want new homes! They wanted the homes they already had! The homes they worked hard for, for years! And you should better appreciate our efforts to minimise injury. Our mission would be much more successful if we were as ruthless as our enemies.”

“Your mission? You have no mission! You and the others deserted, became criminals, terrorists! You raided ships, bases, colonies, threatened lives- and in the end, what was it all for? Your ‘mission’ is over, it’s dead-”

She slammed her fist against the clear Isochamber panel, her face reddening. “NO! Not dead! Not while one of us is alive! And if Starfleet had had the balls to support us from the start, instead of hiding behind rules and regulations that have no place on the frontier, then we wouldn’t be where we are now, forced into taking this action!”

Masterson stared back. “From what I see, Ma’am, I reckon no one can force you to do anything. So don’t be scurrying under that particular rock.”

She regarded him, regaining her composure quickly. “Just sit tight in there, Doctor, and don’t interrupt us again.” She activated the intercom. “Chase to Hrelle: your time is up. Have you come up with something to stop us?”

“I think so, Captain: a deal.”

She smirked. “A deal, huh? Go on, let’s hear it.”

“A wartime pardon, for you and your people, from Admiral Tattok of the Thirteenth Fleet, for your past and present crimes. If you have others still onboard the Azimech, they can be pardoned, too.”

“Oh? Just like that, all is forgiven, clean slate and all that?”

“Needs must, Captain. We’re going to need all the experienced people we can get out here. There’ll be a short period of retraining, and then you and your people can be distributed to key positions on ships in the Fleet.”

“I think I’d rather keep my crew together, and have a ship of our own.”

“I’m sure you would, but let’s be realistic. Think about it: it’ll be your chance to take the fight back to the Dominion, and not have to worry about watching out for Starfleet bringing the hammer down on you. We can agree that the real fight is out there, not with each other.” He paused and added, “It’s a genuine offer, no tricks, a Win-Win Scenario. What do you say?”

Chase frowned to herself, glanced at her colleagues and replied, “Stand by, let me talk to my people. Chase out.” She closed the frequency, then looked to the Bolian at the station. “Commence the Auto Destruct sequence.”

Inside the Isochamber, Masterson’s heart skipped a beat. “NO! DON’T! TAKE THE OFFER!”

Chase looked over at him. “There’s no offer, Doctor, it’s a delaying tactic to give your Captain time to override our defences here and retake Sickbay. Exactly what I would do.”

“You don’t know that! You don’t have to kill anyone!”

“No,” she agreed. “I don’t. Yaxx: begin Auto-Destruct.”

Above them, a new siren filled the air, and the computer’s voice calmly announced, “Auto Destruct has initiated. Five Minutes to Auto Destruct. Evacuate the vessel via the nearest escape pods.”

Masterson pounded his fist on the panel. “NO!”

But Chase ignored him, reaching for the companel as if expecting a response. And getting it. “Chase! What in the Seven Hells are you doing?”

“Giving you and your crew five minutes to evacuate so we can take over peacefully.”

“You can’t do this!”

“Stop deluding yourself, Captain; it’s being done now, and you’re wasting time.”

“I’m not leaving my ship to you!”

“Captain, we’ve taken control of your internal sensor grid. If there’s one person detected still onboard when the Countdown reaches fifteen seconds... then I’ll let it continue to the end.”

There were noises on the other end of the channel, before Hrelle demanded, “What about your hostages?”

“Once the rest of the ship has been evacuated and we take full control, we’ll beam them over to the Azimech, who can also collect you and your crew, and we’ll be on our way. Everyone survives, we get the ship we want. That’s a Win-Win Scenario.”

Hrelle’s growl travelled over the intercom. “We’re not done, Captain. I promise you that.”

“You have four minutes, Captain. I will destroy this ship and us if anyone outside of Sickbay Three is still onboard. I promise you that.”

She closed the channel, and looked up at the ceiling, Masterson seeing her mentally count to herself before Hrelle’s voice replaced the computer’s. “All Hands, Abandon Ship! Repeat, All Hands Abandon Ship! This is not a drill!”

Some of Chase’s crew cheered, but she waved off their celebrations, looking back at the Bolian. “Well, Yaxx?”

The blue-hued crewman studied his controls, before grinning. “I have escape pod launches commencing on Decks 5, 4, 1- now 3 and 2. Lifesign numbers onboard decreasing... 50... 42... 38-”

Chase nodded and turned to the others. “Wicks, Dargi, once the ship has been cleared, go to Engineering, lock everything down, make sure they’ve not left any surprises. Sheppard, do the same with the Armoury, run a diagnostic on Weapons.”

The Nausicaan stepped forward. “I should do that!”

“No, Duujar -- you’ll be sweeping the rest of the ship with Kojald and Simmonds, make sure no one’s hiding onboard.”

“Auto Destruct in two minutes,” the computer updated.