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

To serve something greater.

Once, before the battle started, he had considered approaching the Samaritan's captain to warn him... but he had no proof of the warning from the Female. It would have been dismissed, or worse, he might have been relieved of duty pending a Counseling evaluation-

Then he was pulled out of his thoughts as the other pilots raced for their shuttles, and he followed, entering his own, his mind already jumping ahead to his pre-flight checks. "Astrogation station operational... Structural Integrity Field generator operational... Inertial Dampening Field operational-"

"Shuttlecraft Operations to Shuttlecraft 23," Monroe's voice suddenly came through the comm panel.

Rrori started, as if the man was in the craft with him, before acknowledging, "Shuttlecraft 23 here. Are there further orders for me, Sir?"

"Yes, Ensign Rrori." Monroe's voice had a mix of cordiality, of camaraderie, to it that Rrori had never heard before. "I want you to be careful out there. You're one of the most talented pilots I've ever seen. You're also one of the most arrogant, but experience has taught me that tends to come hand in hand with the talent among you Sky Jockeys. I know I've been riding you hard since you boarded, but that's only because I want you to be the best. Good luck out there."

Rrori was at a momentary loss for words, before he finally responded, "Thank you, Sir. I'll be careful. Shuttlecraft 23 out."

He stared blankly at his panels, stunned by the words from his superior.

The monkey probably only said it because he knew Rrori was going into a dangerous situation.

He was probably giving every other pilot a similar speech.

Still, it only served to conflict him more, as he took his cue from Shuttlecraft Control and launched alongside the other shuttles towards the battlefield.

*

USS Iberia, Deck 5 Aft -- Science Labs Section:

Weapons fire competed with the shouts and screams of Kit's fellow crewmembers, as he struggled to stay on his feet and not get trampled with everyone else trying to reach the escape pods on this deck, without getting shot. The attack on the ship had ended, prompting wild speculation as to why.

Kit suspected; before his escape from his oppressive homeworld and conversion into the slimmer, faster body of a Seeker of Knowledge, he had been raised and trained as a Warrior, among a clutch of Warriors. And he suspected that the external attack had ceased, to allow the Jem'Hadar shock troops to board, possibly to take over their vessel without destroying it, though it was just as likely that the genetically-engineered soldiers sought personal combat to test their enemy's strength and skills, or perhaps they even had a code of honour demanding such face-to-face interaction.

He was content, however, not to stop and ask one of them.

He was almost past the doorway to the Specimen Labs before he stepped out of the river of evacuating bodies and inside the room- just as an orange beam shot past him, barely grazing the padded shoulder of his jacket. He dropped and rolled behind a control panel, just as another beam struck the wall behind him, leaving a smouldering burn.

"Starfleet!" came a gruff male voice.

Kit unholstered his own phaser and raised it up. He had displayed a reluctance to accept the weapon when he had joined his duty station earlier, though he recognised that his prior experience and qualifications made him eminently suited for the additional Security duty. Now he was glad.

"Starfleet!" the unfamiliar voice repeated.

He rechecked his phaser setting. "I must assume that you are a representative of the Dominion forces who have invaded my ship, and not a colleague."

"I am Cardassian!" the voice declared.

Kit nodded to himself, knowing that they were facing Cardassian forces as well as Dominion ones out here, but not expecting to see them, let alone be threatened by one. "I see. How may I assist you?"

There was a harsh laugh. "Step out and let me shoot you!"

Kit frowned. "Thank you, no. May I respectfully request you relinquish your weapon and surrender instead?"

"Death before dishonour! I must die fighting, with a weapon in my hand!"

"How florid. Then we are at an unfortunate impasse."

Overhead, the computer voice announced, "Warning: Warp core breach in ten minutes. All hands, Abandon Ship."

"Not for long, Starfleet," the voice informed him.

Kit's heart quickened. He had been quite content to join the rest of the crew in escape pods. "May I respectfully enquire what you are doing alone in here? Are you perhaps a zoologist?"

There was another harsh sound. "I am a fool, Starfleet. I was in a boarding party with my younger brother; our father instructed me to watch out for him. But with the help of some perfidious comrades in our party, he stabbed me in the back -- literally -- and left me to die here, so that he may return and claim the family inheritance."

Kit nodded at that. "Working with family can be difficult."

The Cardassian laughed at that. "Indeed, Starfleet!"

"Then the logical course of action now is for you to surrender. I will then be legally obliged to see to your medical needs."

"Warning," the computer updated, as if being helpful. "Warp core breach in nine minutes. All hands, Abandon Ship."

Kit glanced up. "You hear that, Respected Foe? We need to depart. All you have to do is relinquish your firearm and-"

He was leaning around the side of the workstation, when he drew back at another energy blast. "Sir! Please desist! If we continue like this, we will both die!"

"Yes, Starfleet. We will both die."

Kit's throat wattles fluttered, and his mouth went fully dry. He sounded most earnest. "It is not logical to continue this course of action!"

"You sound like a Vulcan, Starfleet. Are you?"

He glanced around, not answering. He was stuck where he was, unable to leave where he was. The ship's communication system was down, and the chaos outside meant that no one was likely to search for him. He swallowed. "Cardassian... you might be willing to die. I am not. I wish to live. You should, too. You might even return to your homeworld someday, after the War." He breathed in. "Imagine the look on your brother's face if you did that. As you took your long-awaited revenge."

There was a silence, and then a laugh. "You are persuasive, Starfleet. But I have no desire to spend my time in a POW camp. Put your head out. I will offer you a merciful death, and then I can follow, knowing that I will not die as ignobly as I might have, by having taken out at least one of the Enemy."

"Warning: Warp core breach in eight minutes. All hands, Abandon Ship."

He looked around him, his desperation growing as their remaining time shrank. The specimen containers had warning flashes on them, and Kit remembered his superior officer's earlier actions in here, to arrange for another merciful death for the animals they kept, to prevent them from burning or, more horribly, starving if the ship didn't blow up-

A plan came to mind.

He pictured the layout of the room, estimated the most likely place for the wounded Cardassian, and adjusted the setting on his phaser. He swallowed again. "Cardassian... I am honour-bound to offer you one final chance to surrender and live."

The Cardassian made a smirking sound. "Come over here, Starfleet, and we'll discuss it, eh?"

Kit breathed in deeply, not taking his offer seriously, as he adjusted his position against the workstation until he was practically lying on the floor, before twisting outward, sticking out his phaser arm and firing... at the specimen containers nearest where he thought his opponent was hiding. The clearsteel panels shattered and melted into fragments, and the orange mist that had been filling up the interiors, the theragen nerve gas that had been programmed into the environmental systems, drifted out.

Kit held his breath, though he knew enough about the gas that such an action was futile, that theragen could be absorbed cutaneously. He held his breath and listened... listened to the spasms of the Cardassian, and then the drop of a metal object to the bulkhead. He was sorrowful that he had been driven to such an action.

But not too sorrowful-

"SCREECH!"

Kit started, sitting up as a Deltan sand peacock stood beside him, tailfeathers spread out and curved beak open, shrieking at him. "Chester!"

It leapt into his arms.

"Warning: Warp core breach in seven minutes. All hands, Abandon Ship."

Kit took his new bundle and rose up, a part of him theorising as to how the specimen had survived as long as he had in the container before his liberation -- a natural neurological resistance, perhaps, related to a superior acetylcholinesterase enzyme coagulation in his biochemistry -- but still recognising that Kit himself would succumb, and fled.

*

USS Surefoot, Deck 1 Forward -- Bridge:

"Continuing to collect survivors," Neheru reported. "Current number 200 and climbing. Moving uninjured to Evacuation Points in Deck 1, Cargo Bay 1; Deck 3, Holodecks 1 and 2, Arboretum, Enlisted and Cadets' Mess Halls and Lounges; Deck 4, Cargo Bays 2 and 3."

Hrelle nodded without saying anything, focused on the tactical displays and the main viewscreen. "Helm, keep us steady, there's too many escape pods around us. Mr Gentry, keep an eye on the power systems, we'll need every available erg for transporters and medical replicators." He looked to T'Varik, standing near the Auxiliary Ops station, wearing an earpiece. "Commander, keep an ear peeled on those transmissions." As she nodded in his direction, he resisted the urge to make his way down to the Shuttlebay and supervise the operations; the situation was ongoing, ever changing, and his place was here-

"Sir!" It was C'Rash. "Incoming Scarabs! Raising shields!"

He almost countermanded her order -- they were still beaming survivors onboard -- but held back, joining her at Tactical, watching her slim furred fingers moving swiftly over her station, readying weapons for the inevitable attack- "What the-?"

He glanced up, seeing the enemy ships seem to sweep in on an attack formation... before banking sharply away.

"What happened?" his niece muttered. "Did they get new orders, or-"

Hrelle's stomach plummeted, and his tail twitched. "They've deposited boarders!"

"What? They can't do that! Not with the shields up!"

From her position, T'Varik straightened up and looked over at them gravely. "Transmissions from the other vessels reporting Dominion transporter activity through standard shields-"

Hrelle was leaning forward, activating a shipwide hail. "All Hands! Intruder Alert! Condition Four! Clear the corridors of all non-essential personnel, effective immediately! We're raising force fields at critical junctures!"

*

Deck 3 Mid- Science Lab:

"All Hands! Intruder Alert! Condition Four! Clear the corridors of all non-essential personnel, effective immediately! We're raising force fields at critical junctures!"

Kami listened to the tightness in Esek's voice, as Sreen mewled in her arms. At the open doorway, Jhess and Misha stood and watched with Security Crewman Pam Travers as the side corridor leading up to the Lab door began filling up with rescued survivors. Travers, a petite young human female with ponytailed sable hair and a pert nose, stepped forward, hands raised. "Hold it, folks! You're gonna have to move on! You can't stay here! There are survivor stations further aft, in the Enlisted Lounge and Rec Rooms! Move it!"

Kami caught the look from Jhess; she saw everything in his eyes, and stepped forward to join him, looking out as well at the faces of hurt, confused, scared people, people torn from their ships, their lives, and dropped here, and now hearing from her husband that they were still not out of danger. Smelling their fear; even Sreen was reacting to it. She drew closer to Travers, her voice compassionate. "Pamela, please... the civilians, the ones with the children. They can come in with us."

The crewman looked to her with concern. "Counselor, I have orders-"

"Orders to keep the Captain's family safe here. You're doing that... you can do more." She stepped out into the corridor, smiling, affecting friendliness. "I'm Counselor Hrelle. You can come in here with us, you'll be safe in here."

Travers looked dubious, but kept her tongue as civilians began pouring inside. Jhess offered the new arrivals a warm smile. "Come along, folks, everything's going to be okay!"

"Yeah!" Misha agreed, ushering them inside, displaying his minikin Starfleet Captain's uniform. "You cubs come in! My Papa's Captain! He keep us safe! Me too! I protect you!"

*

Deck 4 Fore -- Shuttlebay:

Stalac remained completely still as he worked, the interface resting beneath him allowing him direct access to the Triage Computer, his silicon-based brain operating at dizzying speeds.

And allowing him to appreciate the work of Dr Belaxi and his team: they may have approached their work with an arrogance that annoyed Stalac's friends but amused him, but they were amazingly efficient, moving and diagnosing the incoming wounded, and checking the seemingly-uninjured, shuttling the latter away from the rows of padded mats where the immobile lay, ready to be transported with antigrav gurneys towards the various Sickbays.

He sensed the return of Peter from the latest transport. Stalac didn't have eyes, of course, but his shell acted as a spectrographic sensor array, and even without sensing the salt in his perspiration, his voice carried fatigue, as he worked with their fellow cadets to offer support.

"Get yourself some water," Stal recommended as the human raced past.

"I'm fine, Buddy, I'm fine." Peter waved him off as he continued down the row.

"All Hands! Intruder Alert! Condition Four! Clear the corridors of all non-essential personnel, effective immediately! We're raising force fields at critical junctures!"

The Horta stopped, almost feeling the tension rise among the Carbs around him. Condition Four meant they were locked in the Shuttlebay for the time being; the medical team would have to perform any critical operations here. Immediately he began replicating appropriate equipment: tables, sterile fields-

Stalac immediately detected the presence of six Jem'Hadar materialising in the centre of the Shuttlebay, their unique biochemistries and mineral contents strange to his senses, their plasma rifles firing away at the Security standing near the doorways, dropping them in their tracks.

Cries of panic and confusion rose, as Stalac sent an alert signal to the Bridge. Egg Mother, survivors were still beaming in, and the Jem'Hadar were shooting them as they were materialising! He blocked further incoming transmissions, as the Jem'Hadar formed a defensive circle, firing at Dr Belaxi and the other medics. Bolts struck them, sending them sprawling over the wounded on the bulkhead. Anyone who rose, was shot.

Then they began shooting those on the floor, too.

"No!" Stalac detached himself from his computer interface and slithered along towards them, raising the volume on his voder unit to Maximum. "STOP! THEY'RE WOUNDED! NON COMBATANTS! IT'S AGAINST THE RULES OF ENGAGEMENT!"

A woman with a baby was rising in a panic, making the pair of them a target.

Stalac saw Peter near her, rising up as well to shield her.

A Jem'Hadar bolt struck him in the back.

"PETER!"

Stalac launched himself at the nearest Jem'Hadar, wrapping himself around the invader's legs, pumping out acid capable of burning through almost anything.

The Jem'Hadar fell screeching beneath the Horta, spasming as Stalac swept over him, dissolving him almost completely.

Rage suffused Stalac, as the other Jem'Hadar focused their attention on him, raising their weapons and firing.

Stalac felt them strike his hide, but only as a distant thing, insufficient to stop him as he moved onto the next Jem'Hadar, bringing him down as well.

The next shots that hit Stalac were stronger, sending bolts of intense pain through him. But he kept going, all the cautionary lessons he had learned as a young chip about the fragility of carbon-based lifeforms were tunnelled away. He had to stop them.

And he had to make them pay, for his fallen friend.

He brought down another. The Jem'Hadar were backing away in a panic, still firing at him, but this time with beams at higher settings.

Stalac was pursuing them... even as he felt himself bleed acid in several places, some of it splattering on the wounded nearby.

Then the remaining Jem'Hadar began falling, from Starfleet phaser beams, as several of the survivors, armed, brought them down.

Stalac finally stopped, aware of how much acid he had released, and was now haemorrhaging uncontrollably. It was eating into the bulkhead where he had slithered, where he sat-

Suddenly he was falling, down onto the next deck below, landing with a horrible sound.

He felt something of himself break off his left side. And shatter.

Instinctively he cut off any further acid secretions, and as he slipped into a protective healing trance, he hoped that any bleeding he couldn't control wouldn't carry him any further downward, until there were no more decks, and he ended up floating out in space...

*

From his position near the Life Support Bays on Deck 5, Security Crewman Xinn Chaf rushed out, phaser in hand, staring in astonishment, his bald blue Bolian head darkening as he murmured, "Holy Hraxor..." He knelt down beside the cracked, smouldering Horta, reaching out-

From the hole above, a silver-haired young human, a reptoid whose race Chaf couldn't identify, and a Bolian female stood at the edge, the first barking, "Don't touch him! You'll burn yourself!"

"What?"

The reptoid nodded. "Indeed, Respected Colleague! There will be residual acid secretions!"

Beside the reptoid, a weird little bird spread out its colourful feathers and screeched down at him.

Chaf glanced up, demanding, "What the hell's going on up there?"

"Jem'Hadar beamed in!" the Bolian responded. "They're dead or stunned, but we have dead and injured up here! We need backup Medical and Security teams here, on the double!"

Chaf stood up again, his heart racing; he was fresh out of the Academy, his first assignment onboard a ship, and all Hell was breaking loose... Using his best professional voice, he told them, "You people stay out of the way, you're safe, we'll handle matters now-"

"Listen, Dickhead," the Bolian snapped angrily, leaning forward over the edge, "Call Captain Hrelle on the Bridge and tell him Lieutenant and Ensign Ostrow, and Ensign Kitirik are home, and ready to lend a hand up here! Then get back to your post and keep an eye and ear peeled, there'll be more Jem'Hadar beaming in!"

*

"Captain!" Neheru snapped. "Jem'Hadar in Shuttlebay! They've been neutralised, the Shuttlebay has been secured, but we have dead and injured, including Dr Belaxi's team... and Cadets Peter Boone and Stalac are reported critically wounded!"

Hrelle looked at T'Varik, both of them sharing the same expression. They both knew it was inevitable that cadets would be injured, but... "I want the Shuttlebay re-secured, as well as the routes from it to Sickbays 2 and 3; leave Masterson and his team in Sickbay 1 for now, but we'll need someone in charge in the Bay-"

"Sir!" the Kelpien interrupted, his eyes brightening. "Crewman Chaf reports Mr and Mrs Ostrow, and Mr Kitirik are there, awaiting your orders!"

Hrelle allowed himself a slight smile; his cubs were back... "Lock onto their combadges and tune them into our network, then put Jonas in charge of the Shuttlebay operations and Neraxis with Security!" He returned to C'Rash. "Run Security scans for other intruders."