Surefoot 52: ...This Means War Pt. 01

"Hmmm... I hope you send some over to me."

"But you don't like zoopla!"

"I do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"I miss you, Poppy. When are you coming to visit?"

"I was just there, yesterday, Half-Pint. Didn't you see me then?"

"Yeah, but you played with Fatso and Admiral Gee Pah most of the time," she said, a little nugget of a complaint in her voice.

"I'll come over tomorrow if I can, Naida. Save me some zoopla cookies."

She smiled back at him. "I won't let Fatso or Misha have any until you get here."

"Good girl. I miss you, dearie." A communications signal whistle blew and he quickly added," I have to go, Naida. I'll be there. I promise!"

"I love you, Poppy!"

Her image disappeared from the screen and it went black. A moment of disappointment in himself made him sad. He was fighting a war and he couldn't even be with his child because he wanted to protect her from the horrors of war.

*

In another part of the ship, Sasha entered the Brig. It was tiny, the general claustrophobic nature of being onboard the Ajax accentuated here... and not helped by the hulking figure of the sole occupant in the cell. "Jim."

Madison was lying on the stark bunk, but now bolted upright as if he just woke up. "Sasha! Thank God! You've got to get me out of here! I'm not a spy!"

She stood ramrod straight, before glancing at the Security crewman on guard. "Wait outside please, Bob." As the crewman departed, Sasha waited until the door slid shut again before continuing, facing Madison once more. "Who's Trenagen after?"

"What?"

"Is it Captain Weynik, or my father? Or my grandmother?"

Madison's face screwed up in disbelief. "Sasha, I swear to God-" He was drawing closer to her, but stopped and stepped back as the force field flared into angry visibility. "I don't know what the hell is going on, or where that equipment you found came from, or why your father would think I ever met Admiral Trenagen!" He pounded his fist against the wall beside the doorway in frustration.

She stared up at him. When her father and Weynik had first told her, she was as unconvinced as- as he seemed now. The incredulity quickly boiled into anger, as she thought of how intimate she'd become with him over the past several months, how trusting, how... happy she'd been. She wasn't deluding herself into thinking it was True Love or anything, but- "What ship were your parents stationed on at Wolf 359?"

Madison blinked, not expecting the question. "The Bellerophon. I told you that already-"

"And who did you visit when my father met you on the Triton?"

"Sasha-"

"Just answer me."

Madison's face hardened. "Ensigns Lane Guerra and Andri Dannsen. They were an item back at the Academy, we called them Fire and Ice, Lane was always trying to get me fixed up with his sister back on Earth- Sasha, I shouldn't be in here! Please! Get me out of here!"

She stared up at him. He was so convincing... "I have to go."

Now he pounded on the forcefield, making it spark. "SASHA, NO! PLEASE, COME BACK!"

*

USS Cooper, Deck 1 Fore – Captain's Ready Room

1 Hour Until Armageddon:

Sakuth deliberately let Arrington stand there while she pretended to examine her PADD. In fact, she had completed her perusal before she called him in here, but used the opportunity to continue to study his discipline.

Finally, without looking up, she noted, "Lieutenant, I trust you are aware of the rarity of an officer of your rank and experience to be placed in a position of such authority."

"I am, Ma'am."

She paused, expecting more, but now finally looked up. "Is that all you have to say?"

The slim, fair-haired human male kept his composure. "Were you looking for a Thank You, Ma'am? I didn't think you made your decision as a favour to me, so I didn't think you'd appreciate a show of gratitude. But if I erred in that thinking, I'm certain you'll let me know. You're not exactly reluctant to impart criticism, constructive or otherwise."

"Don't cross into insolence, Lieutenant. You are correct, however, in that I did not make my decision as an inducement for gratitude. As a cadet onboard the Surefoot, you logged 612 hours as a commanding officer, and your post-graduate assignments have required the implementation of a Level 8 Security clearance, allowing you access to the classified data you have been assisting in collating for me. In addition, your general demeanour while onboard has not been entirely unacceptable."

"Thank you, Ma'am. Having worked under Vulcans previously, I consider that high praise."

She regarded him more intently now; he was obviously referring to T'Varik, Hrelle's First Officer... and Sakuth's former lover, from their time in the Academy. She wondered for several microseconds if T'Varik had ever revealed her intimate connections with Sakuth to Arrington or anyone else on the Surefoot, then decided against it; regardless of her many notable flaws of character, even T'Varik would not proverbially stoop so low. "Did your father object to your decision to volunteer for field duty?"

"My father, Ma'am?"

"I am of course familiar with Admiral William Arrington; he is a capable officer, despite his numerous failures when dealing with the criminal activities of the Bel-Zon. He is at least more competent than your uncle, Commander Matthew Arrington, who is frankly a glib imbecile." She focused on studying the reactions on his face to her deliberate insults... and saw none. "You agree with my assessment of your family members, Lieutenant?"

"With respect, Ma'am, I'd rather hear your opinion of my proposal. We don't have much time."

She nodded in concession, lifting up another PADD. "It is intriguing: operating the ship in Grey Mode, minimising our energy signature, and using our Bussard collector to trap dust from the Khavak system's Oort Cloud to mask Dominion sensors. Is the idea your own?"

He paused briefly. "No, Ma'am. I based it on something I saw Captain Hrelle do against a gang of Orion raiders. It was when he still commanded the previous Surefoot, an Oberth-class vessel like our own, sharing our own offensive and defensive limitations-"

"What is your opinion of Captain Hrelle? I want an honest answer from you."

He blinked – humans were so remarkably easy to read, she thought, and to provoke – as he responded, "He's the best Captain in Starfleet, Ma'am."

"He's a corpulent, lazy, facetious, emasculated clown with a dubious past and connections. He chooses to squander his experience and expertise commanding an ambulance ship instead of applying whatever experience and abilities he possesses in Starfleet Command, Tactical or Intelligence. You are not entirely inept; I must conclude that your opinion of him is shaped by your prior relationship with his stepdaughter."

Arrington reacted – more profoundly to insults against Hrelle than against his own family, she noted – though to his credit he quickly recovered. "With respect, Ma'am, my relationship with Lt Hrelle has no bearing on my respect for her father. I know he's not to everyone's tastes, but in his role as captain of both versions of the Surefoot, he has saved countless lives... including my own. And again with respect, none of us who have been saved by him think he's 'squandering his experience and expertise' doing that. Is that all, Ma'am?"

The Vulcan woman raised an eyebrow; she had been secretly examining all of the correspondence he had transmitted since he boarded the Cooper weeks ago, including those letters to his family, and to Hrelle's family and to his former friends, and already knew the depths of his feelings towards all of them. "You will supervise the normal operations of the vessel, while I focus on the mission. I have had designed and constructed a set of tactical probes in our bay disguised as quantum torpedoes.

They will be programmed to lock onto Jem'Hadar vessels and pursue without destroying them, instead compelling them to attempt to evade the apparent weapons, to push their engines and hull designs to the maximum. This will provide us with more data than can be obtained under normal circumstances." At his frown, she asked, "You object to this approach?"

"Not... object, Ma'am. But using probes disguised as torpedoes might put us at risk of making ourselves a target."

"Your fears are groundless. There will be other, more desirable targets. I have planned for every contingency; we will not be attacked. Dismissed."

Arrington nodded, turned and departed without further ado.

She considered his responses, his obvious lingering loyalty to Hrelle.

He was still useful.

*

USS Triton, Deck 1 Fore – Bridge

30 Minutes Until Armageddon:

"Receiving Probe data now, Admiral," reported the Ops Officer from her station.

Tattok stood in the rear of the spacious Bridge, near the Tactical Display boards, feeling like a child desperate for long-promised presents, but offering only a curt, professional, "Acknowledged." Then he watched, along with his Tactical officers, as the images of the Dominion and Cardassian fleet they were intercepting appeared on the boards, alongside equally pertinent data on their sizes, strengths, numbers.

He felt the tension rise among the younger but still experienced officers as they began mentally assessing the opposing forces awaiting them: one Dominion battlecruiser, a large ship the size of a Galaxy-class vessel, leading a pack of a hundred smaller Scarab attack ships, and six Cardassian Galor-class vessels, surrounding the battlecruiser.

"Well," one of his advisors, Lt Commander Aoyx, finally said, breaking the silence, "Looks like we will be home for Christmas."

"I didn't know Bolians celebrated Christmas," quipped Commander Hagolin, standing beside him.

"We don't usually, but who doesn't like getting presents-"

"Enough," Tattok snapped, his black eyestalks fixed. "I want the transmissions examined and verified for authenticity, and then transmitted to the rest of the Fleet." He wasn't sure why he was tense; the data supported the initial Intelligence reports, of a large but not insurmountable opposition expected at Khavak. "And hurry up about it."

*

USS Ajax, Deck 3 Mid – Science Lab

25 Minutes Until Armageddon:

Weynik's voice broke the intense silence in the room. "Bridge to Lt Hrelle: Sasha, we're fast approaching Khavak. Is there a reason you're not at your post?"

Sasha leaned back from the scanner she was studying and rubbed her eyes, before tapping her combadge. "Apologies, Sir, I'm investigating something relating to the... security incident we had earlier."

"I thought it was agreed to leave that matter until after the battle?"

Her eyes fixed on the exographic readout before her, of one of the spy devices confiscated from Madison's quarters. She wasn't sure what she was looking at, or why, but hardly felt that a sufficient answer to give to her commanding officer. "Yes, Sir, but there was something bothering me- I don't think the matter can wait."

There was a pause, and Sasha imagined the look on Weynik's face, with him wondering if her refusal to let the matter rest was driven by whatever emotional attachment she might still have with Jim – something she had considered herself – but finally he responded with, "You have ten minutes."

"Thank you, Sir. Hrelle out." Kohanim had already contacted Jim's alleged friends he said he had visited on the Triton, and they had denied meeting him, so she focused on the readings from these gadgets. All the evidence they had gathered to date pointed to Madison being a spy: Dad's nose, the transmissions with the encrypted messages hidden with them, these sophisticated devices. He was caught dead to rights.

But the real question she was only asking now was: Why? Why would a professional spy be caught so easily, with such a flimsy alibi? Why keep up a pretence at innocence, and instead just remain silent and wait for his superiors to make the next move to get him freed? He would know that his protests of innocence would fall on proverbial deaf ears.

Ears...

Sasha moved to a communications station, using her authority as Second Officer to access the Security sensors in the Brig, and then focus on the sole occupant, running a remote medical check. The sensors were relatively basic, designed just to ensure that any prisoners being held were in good health and not requiring medical assistance.

The Lab door slid open, and she glanced behind her to see Ensign Shanek enter and approach. "Captain Weynik sent me down to expedite your return to the Bridge, Lieutenant."

Shanek.

Jim's roommate.

She glanced back at the readings, saw the elevated levels of psilosynine neurotransmitter in Jim's brain, indicative of telepathic activity... or influence-

She quickly reached for her combadge.

Shanek was quicker, racing up and knocking her badge off her uniform, before reaching for her neck.

Sasha struck out, bringing her eclectic combat training to bear against the Vulcan male, but he countered it with skills he had never displayed before now, and Vulcan strength that dropped her to the floor, before pinning her down and grasping the right side of her neck, pinching nerves that immediately drained the strength from her limbs. Conscious but immobile, she was helpless to prevent him from touching fingertips to the side of her face. "Do not attempt to resist, Lieutenant, it will only cause you pain, and potential neurological damage...

My mind to yours..."

*

USS Surefoot, Deck 3 Mid – Science Lab

15 Minutes Until Armageddon:

Misha Hrelle, clad in his Starfleet uniform and with his Captain's pips fixed to the collar, held the PADD in his hand as if born to it, moving around the room pretending to run an inventory on the cases stacked within, while his mother and Jhess stayed near the entrance, watching through the open doors as the crew hurried along the corridor outside, leading to Sickbay 1, Security and other places on the deck.

The spotted male nodded to himself. "Nice place. Especially if I want to examine some spores or lichen. It's a hobby of mine, you see; I'm a fungi." He grinned. "Get it? 'Fun guy'?"

But his scent, dilated pupils and twitching tail betrayed his calm exterior, something Kami, cradling Sreen against her shoulder, couldn't help but notice. "Jhess... I'm sorry. I had hoped that our sessions had been more effective-"

"They have been, Kami, I promise!" he assured her, smiling with more force than he obviously felt. "Ooh, I think My Lady might need changing..."

He was reaching for the infant, but Kami shook her head, patting Sreen's diapered bottom and tickling the tiny curled tail sticking out. "I'm a little closer to the source, so I'll know before you."

Jhess grunted, his hands fidgeting... and Kami noticed now how his usually-garish civilian clothing had been replaced today with darker, more sober choices more reminiscent of the green-brown fatigues of a Caitian Militia member, including black boots. "Yes. I guess no amount of psychological conditioning can keep all of the fear away."

"No," she agreed sympathetically. "It can't."

"Afraid?" Misha echoed from the other side of the Lab, obviously listening in on the adults' conversation. "Why you afraid? Papa take care of us! I take care of us too!"

Jhess shook off his anxiety completely now at the sub's declaration. "Of course you will, Warrior Prince! I'm just-" He glanced around at the crates, shifted in here to make room for the rescued personnel in the Cargo Bays. He moved towards them and dragging them along the floor. "I'm just thinking that if some cubs from other ships get rescued and join us in here, we should have a fort ready for them! We'll build a wall or two here facing the door!"

"Yeah!" Misha dropped his PADD and raced over to help.

Kami watched them, before smelling and hearing the approach of Assistant Security Chief Gorman approach, carrying a large, long black metal case in his arms. "Brian! What's that?"

The ginger-haired human's normally ruddy face was extra red know from whatever was in the case. "Weapons and equipment for Jhess, ordered by Captain Hrelle and Lt Shall."

Jhess was dragging another crate to the centre of the room, but now stopped and approached warily, his anxiety back on his face. He stared at the case for a moment, before reluctantly accepting it and setting it down on the floor.

Misha watched curiously, approaching. "What you got, Jhessie-"

But the nanny held up an open palm to the cub, stopping him in his tracks with an unaccustomed curtness, Jhess' focus intent on the case he now opened, just enough for him, and no one else, to see the contents. Then he closed the case and locked it, setting it against the nearest wall before rising again, trying to appear calm. "Thank you, Mr Gorman. I acknowledge receipt of said items. But I won't sign for them; the last time I signed anything, I woke up the next morning married to a Ferengi. It was an ear-y experience."

A bemused Gorman nodded back, offering a polite smile to Kami – and a grin at Sreen – before departing. Kami watched her nanny pick up the case and set it against a far wall. She knew him far better now than when he arrived months ago, trusted in his mental stability enough to leave her cubs in his unsupervised care. But still, that was under normal conditions. "Whatever is in there, Jhess, you'll probably not need it-"

"Absolutely, Sweet Lady!" he declared suddenly – almost desperately – beaming as he looked to Misha. "Right, Captain Hrelle, let's continue building this fortress!"

Against her mother's shoulder, Sreen growled.

Kami purred against her daughter, assuring her, "I know, Princess, I know, but let's not press him further, okay? He's doing his best."

*

Deck 1 Fore – Bridge

6 Minutes Until Armageddon:

"Entering Khavak system," Velkovsky announced. "Fleet in attack formation."

At the rear of the Bridge, Hrelle studied the tactical probe data the Triton had transmitted to the Surefoot and the rest of the Fleet, with T'Varik and C'Rash flanking him, the latter noting, "We can maximise the shield harmonics for the Scarabs' weapons, we're more likely to run into them while we're darting about picking up survivors." She paused and frowned at him. "Captain?"

"It's wrong," he declared, offering nothing further.

"Sir?" T'Varik prompted.

"Tattok's suspicious about the data," he explained.

"I... do not recall his saying anything like that in his last transmission."

He looked to the Vulcan. "I read between the lines. He's invited the Captains of the Fleet to examine it and make their own opinions. That's what I'm doing now-" He reached out and worked the display controls, expanding the supplementary data. "Where did the Dominion forces come from?"

"The Argolis Cluster," C'Rash reported. "SI reports indicate they have a facility-"

Hrelle looked to T'Varik. "Call up the Stellar Cartography data on the Cluster, check for ionisation frequency and particle density."

"What?" his niece exclaimed. "What the Seven Hells-"

But T'Varik was already at the Science station, moving rapidly, obviously aware of the reason behind his queries. "Accessing, calculating decay rates and distance..."

Hrelle looked to C'Rash now. "The Cluster has long been known as a navigation hazard due to gravimetric shears and distortions... and ionising radiation. Ships stationed near there for long will collect ionised particles at a particular frequency-"