Surefoot 52: ...This Means War Pt. 02

"Captain," Arrington finally spoke, stepping away from his station. "As you've chosen to continue this tactic, might I at least suggest bringing the weapons online? If the enemy traces the source of the torpedo probes back to us-"

She never looked up. "Return to your station, Lieutenant." She reassessed her opinion of the young human for his persistence, undoubtedly a result of the animal influence-

The ship rocked under a burst of polaron fire.

Red Alert sounded, and the Bridge crew scrambled into action. Sakuth set down her PADD. "Report!"

Arrington glanced at his display. "Two Jem'Hadar Scarabs! They're coming up port-aft, bearing 99-Mark-141! Shields at 70%! HOLD ON!"

A second later, another blast rocked the vessel.

She stared ahead. No. No, this wasn't logical. She had precisely calculated every variable, took everything into account. They were not a high-priority target. They should have been ignored.

"Captain," Arrington was urging near her. "We have to take evasive action!"

She continued to stare ahead. No. No, her plan was flawless. Something else, some new, unknown variable was at play.

The ship lurched sharply to starboard. Arrington checked his board. "Shields at 30%! Damage to Decks 4 and 5 Starboard! Captain! What are your orders? Captain Sakuth!"

She continued to stare ahead. A spy. Yes, that had to be it. A Dominion spy, onboard the Cooper, committing sabotage. None of this could have been because of any of her actions.

Arrington stared at her a heartbeat longer, before turning away. "Chen! Evasive Pattern Alpha One! Get us back to the Triton and Samaritan!"

That snapped Sakuth out of her thoughts. "What are you doing?"

He ignored her. "Axor! Forget the weapons, focus on propping up the shields! Mooney! Take over Damage Control station, open the aft plasma vents, flood the space behind us to disrupt their targeting systems!"

Sakuth rose to her feet. "Mr Arrington, I am in command here!"

"Evasive Pattern Alpha One," Chen at the Helm reported.

"Jem'Hadar firing," Axor added. "No hits!"

"Good! Chen, get us back towards the Triton, hopefully the Jem'Hadar'll go pick on other targets-"

Sakuth drew the phaser from her side and pointed it at Arrington. "Belay that, Mr Chen! Lieutenant Giles Arrington, you are under arrest for mutiny! You and everyone else who has collaborated with you!"

The young human froze at the sight of the phaser pointed at him. "Captain, we're damaged, we're a viable target in the enemy's eyes, we have to get out of here, or call for help-"

She raised her phaser at him. "Enough! We are staying and continuing our mission-"

"The Jem'Hadar have regrouped!" Axor shouted from Tactical. "Coming up on hard port-"

The ship seemed to topple to one side, artificial gravity failing and stations screaming as energy feedback ripped through the ship's systems and triggered explosions around them. Smoke and shouts filled the air, and crew fell around her, forcing her to climb over them to reach the Ops station- alongside Arrington, who reported, "They severed the secondary hull! Containment fields are collapsing! We have to abandon ship and get away from the blast radius!"

For once, she chose not to argue with him, securing her phaser again and moving to the Security station to begin transferring the collected Intelligence data into a secure medium. "All hands, Abandon Ship! Lieutenant Arrington, assist me! We have to initiate SI backup protocols!"

"Warp core breach in two minutes," the computer announced calmly. "All hands, abandon ship."

Arrington nodded and moved to her side. They worked together quickly, uploading the data at her station into portable modules designed by Starfleet Intelligence.

And she caught the reaction on his face to some of the data he saw. Data he shouldn't have seen.

Data about Hrelle.

"Warp core breach in one minute," the computer updated. "All hands, abandon ship."

As they finished, both collected the modules and proceeded out into the main corridor, with one escape pod remaining nearby, Arrington noting, "Surprised this is still here-" Then he noted the Malfunction Alert over it. "Shit."

She entered the pod. "It's a false sign, so that I would be guaranteed one close at hand. Follow, and hurry."

He complied, his face displaying his disgust at her admission, both of them strapping themselves into the seats and securing the modules beneath them, before activating the launch sequence. The door slid shut quickly, and they were propelled backwards into their seats as the pod shot out into nearby space. Arrington took over the manual controls, guiding them more swiftly around the debris and the Oort detritus, before a flash behind them, just out of view, indicated the destruction of the Cooper. "Sorry, Captain."

"What are you sorry for, Lieutenant?"

He looked slightly confused at her ignorance. "For the loss of our ship. You know, your command?"

"Sentimentality is an emotion. It was a literal vehicle to perform my mission, it meant nothing more."

"Then I'm sorry for taking action as I did, to respond to the attack on us. It's just you seemed to have- froze-"

"Vulcans do not 'freeze'. You just happened to have reacted sooner than I did. I will make an appropriate note on your record regarding it."

"Thank you, Ma'am." He keyed in some commands on his panel. "The Surefoot is collecting survivors from the Dragonheart and other ships nearby. Course plotted into Autopilot and laid in."

"ETA?"

"Eight minutes."

She nodded to herself; that was more than enough time.

Her hand reached out to his neck and grabbed hold, pinching several selected nerves and sending him into unconsciousness.

As he slumped into his seat, she shifted slightly, facing him more directly as her fingertips moved up to touch certain other pressure points, giving her access into his mind. It wasn't the first time she had done this with Arrington -- she had covertly examined his memories several times before, for anything connected to Hrelle, or more importantly the Caitian's kin-mother Ma'Sala and her operations, not to mention Arrington's own family and their activities in Starfleet -- and she had left several mental pathways open in the boy's mind to facilitate future access for her.

Now she had returned, to see what he had seen on the Bridge, and erase it.

And to erase any memories of his that she did not react to the attack in an appropriate manner. Such memories might be misinterpreted, and would not serve anyone.

*

USS Surefoot, Deck 1 Fore -- Bridge:

"In safe transporter range," Neheru announced. "Collecting transponder and combadge signals from escape pods, forwarding to the Triage Supervisor in Shuttlebay... transport of wounded commencing."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Hrelle replied, focusing more on the viewscreen. The Dragonheart remained on fire, but hadn't erupted yet, but the Iberia was more heavily damaged, though the Cardassian it had been fighting looked in worse condition, and was now limping away- "NO!"

He rose to his feet as energy beams from the Galor struck out at Starfleet escape pods around them, destroying them one by one.

"Mother's Cubs," C'Rash muttered, her fingers moving swiftly over her display to obtain further data. "It's no accident, it's deliberate! Those murdering kussiks!"

"W-Why are they doing that?" Cadet Astrid Michel asked in disbelief from her station. "It's a violation of Interstellar Treaty!"

Because they can, Hrelle told himself. Because they're so confident of victory alongside their new allies that they're disregarding rules they would have supported before, even if they didn't privately agree with them, because they knew Starfleet would not have done the same thing to their own escape pods. "Neheru, warn them off! Remind them they're violating Rules of Engagement, and to stand down or they'll be destroyed! Hurry!" To T'Varik he barked, "Start getting everyone beamed over, regardless of medical condition!"

As his officers obeyed, C'Rash asked, "You really think they're gonna listen to your warning?"

"No," he admitted. "I sent that warning for our own records, to show why we're about to do what we're about to do. Arm a volley of quantum torpedoes, tight spread, target that Galor's damaged ventral-port impulse engine."

"The damaged engine? Not their weapons array? That doesn't make sense-"

"Do it!" He knew the risk he was taking: they had not been attacked directly, so if they opened fire now, they would legally become a combat vessel on the field of battle, and any protection they might have had as an ambulance vessel was relinquished.

On the other hand, he had no guarantee that such protection would have been honoured anyway, given what he just witnessed. "Any response from the Cardassians?"

"No, Sir!"

He watched another escape pod flare into oblivion under the Galor's ruthless phaser assault. "Lieutenant Shall... fire!" He glanced at T'Varik, who nodded with approval at his decision.

That didn't mean he wasn't sick to his stomach at the carnage already witnessed. And the rest that was to inevitably come.

*

A tight swarm of torpedoes launched outwards from the Surefoot, their coruscating apple-red light merging as they banked and swooped around escape pods and debris. As they approached, the Galor seemed to detect the approaching danger, and tried to fire at them and trigger an early detonation. But the angle of approach made that a futile gesture on their part.

The torpedoes struck, detonating in quick succession, and as Hrelle had anticipated, initiating a cascade reaction running up through the Galor's damaged fusion reactors, overwhelming their weakened structural integrity fields and holistic damage control systems, and enveloping the rest of the ship from within, sending energy and blackened debris out into space.

*

USS Dragonheart, Deck 5 Mid -- Engineering:

Jonas remained pinned in the alcove, able to occasionally fire in the direction of the Jem'Hadar, but otherwise unable to escape where he was without getting hit.

"Three minutes to critical field failure," the computer helpfully exposited. "Evacuation of the ship is advised."

No kidding, he told himself, his heart racing. He had hoped that Neraxis had been smart and headed for the nearest escape pods, instead of doing something heroic/stupid.

He wished the communication systems were up, and he could hear her voice once more before he died-

"FIRE IN THE HOLE!"

The familiar female voice carried from the direction of the Jem'Hadar.

He immediately dropped into a crouch, covering his head as he called out to the others nearby, "Duck and cov-"

An explosion ripped out from the far corridor where the Jem'Hadar had situated themselves, the heat and overpressure racing through the rest of Engineering and making Jonas' ears pop.

His ears rang as he heard Neraxis add, "HOLD YOUR FIRE!"

He gasped and smiled to himself as he looked up, seeing a charred section of Engineering... and the pieces of several Jem'Hadar on the floor, ignored by a Security team led by an armoured Bolian woman, her eyes wide. "Jonas!"

He helped himself back to his feet and raced to her. "Ner-Ner!" He was ready to embrace her.

Instead she spun him around, grabbing him by the arm and leading him and the other crewmen out the other way. "Holy Hraxor, save it until we get to the pods, you horny bastard! COME ON, ALL OF YOU!"

*

USS Triton:

Tattok remained in the rear of the Bridge, ignoring the interplay of specific ship activities to his First Officer, Captain Aguayo, while the Admiral focused on the constantly-shifting tides of the battle, passing on relevant orders to his junior officers to forward to the appropriate ships, each time hoping that his decisions would be the right ones, even if they might cost lives. The board reminded him of some swirl of different-coloured paints, or one of those ancient psychological tests where subjects revealed their emotional states using inkblots.

No one, and he meant no one, wanted to know his emotional state right now-

"Wait." The warning came from Joe Jacobs, former Starfleet Admiral and now civilian military advisor, an elderly pale-skinned human male with snowy, swept-back hair, leaned forward over his board. "The Battleship! Multiple launches from some ventral bay!"

Tattok peered at the remote display. Ten objects, each three metres long, independently powered but too small for shuttles, launching, moving at separate vectors towards the cruisers, the carriers, the Samaritan and Triton- "Target them! All ships in range, target and destroy those missiles!"

*

The missiles cut through space in separate directions, each one driven by a sophisticated AI system, equipped with shields, propelled by microwarp engines and packed with the tri-cobalt explosive equivalent of a hundred quantum torpedoes. They ducked and dodged and swept under and over closer, seemingly more obvious targets, avoiding attempts by ships along their path to stop them.

Three were destroyed, though one of them also took its killer, the USS Thunderbolt, with it.

The rest found their targets, or as close as they could get.

Not that they needed to be Bullseyes.

*

The Triton launched hard to starboard, inertial dampening failing momentarily. Tattok's Heavyworlder mass and size gave him some advantage of centre of balance over the many taller humanoids around him, and his strength let him catch Jacobs before the old man fell and hurt himself. "Aguayo! Report!"

The Captain was helping his Bridge officers in similar fashion, but now quickly checked their status. "Hull breaches, Decks 10 to 14 Port! Warp drive offline, weapons offline! Damage control drones activated-"

Tattok turned back to the Tactical boards. "Fleet Status!"

Jacobs and the others returned to their posts, Jacobs answering first. "Missiles struck Tereshkova, Trial, Revere... all destroyed, Admiral. No survivors reported."

Three ships, gone, just like that. Nine hundred lives... "The others?"

"The missiles aimed for our carriers detonated before reaching them. The ships suffered minor damage... but most of their fighters were lost in the blast. The Cochise and Vancouver have suffered critical damage and are abandoning ship, but the Surefoot is still busy collecting survivors from the Dragonheart, Iberia and Lynx- Admiral! Captain Hrelle reports one of the Galors was firing on our escape pods! The Surefoot's had to fire back and destroy them!"

"Destroy it?" one of his younger officers exclaimed. "How? One little Sabre against a Galor?"

"Size doesn't matter," Tattok muttered. "What matters is they've made themselves a target now, and the other survivors won't have a chance! Peterson, contact the Ajax, get my son over to run interference for the Surefoot! Aguayo, get our weapons online and head us towards the Cochise and Vancouver! Joe, alert the Samaritan to launch their fleet of ambulance shuttles to go ahead and collect survivors, while we cover them! All other ships: hold the line, join us when -- if -- they can!"

He let his officers do their work, never voicing the rest of his thoughts.

That they had lost the battle. Unless something miraculous occurred.

He didn't believe in miracles.

*

USS Ajax:

"We're still having trouble getting the warp drive back online- Sir!" Kohanim barked with sudden, uncharacteristic sharpness. "New orders! Captain Hrelle's destroyed one of the Galors to protect the Dragonheart's escape pods, and they've made themselves a target! We're to assist the Surefoot and ensure they escape!"

Weynik faced forward. "Helm, plot an intercept, Full Impulse! Mr Bump, lock and load! Wide Load and his people need us!"

From the Engineering station, Ensign Porbik, a young Benzite male, tilted his head as if to let the lights reflect off his shiny blue-grey scalp as he muttered aloud to the crewman sitting beside him, "We're lucky to have survived so far out here, I don't see why we should risk ourselves even further just because it's the Captain's friend-"

"You're dismissed, Mr Porbik," Weynik ordered suddenly.

The Benzite swivelled in his chair to face the centre of the Bridge. "Sir? I was just-"

"I said you're dismissed. Return to Engineering. Mr Kohanim, have him replaced. Now." He looked away, not interested in further discussion. Not interested in anything but protecting his best friend's back. "And get Security to find out what's happened to Sasha and Shanek!"

*

In the Science Lab, Sasha bolted upright, instinctively crawling backwards away from an insensate Shanek, gathering her thoughts- he had been in her head! Accessing her memories about Grandma, Dad- She slapped her combadge. "Hrelle to Weynik."

"Weynik here! Sasha, where the Hell have you been? We're in the middle of a battle here!"

"I was attacked- Shanek is the spy, he used Jim- set him up-"

"What? Where's Shanek now?"

"Lying here in the Lab, unconscious. We've got to get Jim out of the Brig-"

"Later, Sash! For now, get down to Engineering, they're having trouble restoring warp drive!"

"Acknowledged! Hrelle out!"

She rose to her feet, paused to check on Shanek, found him still insensate, and tapped her combadge again as she grabbed her bag, the one she had prepared with her weapons and Kaetini sword, and fled from the room. "Hrelle to Security! Ensign Shanek is unconscious in the Science Lab! Have him brought to the Brig and confined, release Lt Madison immediately and have him report to Engineering!"

She was out the door and down the corridor, her mind already racing ahead to the next task. Seven Hells, they'd been fighting all the time while she was trapped in her head...

*

Back in the Science Lab, Shanek sensed Sasha's departure and drew himself out of his deceptive trance, quickly retrieving one of his secret communicators, having felt a subcutaneous signal indicating an incoming message. He scanned the contents of the message, understood fully, and began planning on implementing it.

*

USS Samaritan, Deck 12 Aft -- Shuttlebay:

Rrori raced up along with every other shuttle pilot, one part of his mind always asking: Is this it? Is this the time?

It certainly felt like it.

He entered the huge hangar, starting to see every shuttle -- every single shuttle -- being readied at once, an unprecedented sight. Then their attention was drawn to Lt Cmdr Monroe, standing on a platform, looking frantic. "Listen up! The Cochise and Vancouver are crippled and abandoning ship, the Surefoot has its hands full elsewhere, and the Enemy's taking shots at the escape pods like they were target drones! Your mission is to fly ahead of us, collect everyone you can and return! Your shuttles are faster than the Samaritan, far more manoeuvrable, able to handle large short-range transporter operations..." He pointed a finger at them, pride full in his expression. "And you're all the best pilots in the Fleet."

Around Rrori, everyone cheered. But all he could think about were the words of the Female Agent. He would be safe, that was guaranteed. No one else had such assurances.

He was abandoning his duties as a Starfleet officer.

To serve something greater.

He would probably never see his mother, his Matriarch or the rest of his clan, or any of his friends, old and new, ever again.