Surefoot 53: Deep Six

Despite his formidable size and presence, there was a touching, telling uncertainty in Kaldron's response to Jonas' words... as well as an undeniable protective affection for his friend. "You are trying to dismiss her-"

"No. I was trying to give her a break from here. This area is full of psychological and emotional triggers, for her, for all of you: the place where Chief Grev and Nancy were killed... the place where the Cardassians grabbed her, tried to hurt her... the place where you and the other cadets fought back, killing and wounding... and don't try to tell me you're not affected by what you did, either."

Kaldron bristled, but raised his chin up. "You- You do not understand, you are only an Engineer-"

"I've killed, Mr Kaldron. And I've been wounded. You don't believe me, ask my wife, your current Security Chief. All of you will be affected by being in here, but we can't afford to shut everything down. We have work to do. But I promise you, I'll watch out for your friend. Deal?"

He made a sound of consideration, before nodding, his eyes widening and deepening with sorrow. "Forgive me, Comrade Lieutenant. I am... I failed in my duty to protect her... to protect the Chief, and Ensign Yeager-"

Jonas raised a hand to cut him off. "I told you I was briefed, by Captain Hrelle himself, when he asked me to take over here. He assured me that there was nothing anyone could do to save either of them. As for your friend, she's been shaken... but far worse could have happened to her, if you and the others hadn't taken action when you did. These uniforms don't guarantee our safety; in fact, they have the opposite effect. But they do guarantee that we can depend on each other."

*

Deck 3 Mid -- Security Suite:

Neraxis was undergoing an inventory of the support equipment when she heard the noise coming once more from the Brig. Seconds later, Travers appeared at the doorway. "Lieutenant..."

The Bolian grunted, still not used to the promotion from the Captain, even if it was just temporary. "Yeah, yeah, I hear them. I'll be right out."

She took her time. Not too much. Just enough to show that she wasn't jumping to the beck and call of prisoners. She stopped and ran a hand over her bald blue head, remembering the time when she had lost her nerve as a Security cadet, and she had practically hidden herself away in here, wanting nothing more than to go back home to Mama and her brothers and sisters on Bolarus. But her former superior officer Lieutenant Shall had supported her unquestioningly, as did Captain Hrelle. Without them, she wouldn't be where she was today.

Then, with a smirk, she realised that 'where she was today' was, physically at least, the exact same place she was four years ago.

Neraxis strode out through the security screens into the main Suite, where the Brig cells lined one wall, their invisible walls doing nothing to stifle the din from the Cardassians standing there, banging their fists rhythmically against the force fields, the feedback overwhelmed by the chanting of the soldiers. She slipped on her most no-nonsense expression as she faced them. "Enough! Any more noise and I'll have anesthizine pumped in there!"

The Cardassian closest to her, with insignia she recognised denoted him with the junior officer rank of Glinn, sneered at her. "Do not attempt to bluff me, girl. Starfleet has rules about the treatment of their prisoners."

She folded her arms across her chest. "You'll find the Surefoot isn't like other Starfleet vessels. And don't call me 'girl', Dickhead."

The Glinn made a sound. "Regardless of the singular properties of this paltry little craft of yours, there are certain expectations all vessels share. For one thing, prisoners have a right to medical treatment, sustenance, and entertainment facilities."

She made a sound. She had been given a report from Zir Dassene, that these Cardassians were part of a larger group in Engineering who had tried to rape one of the Engineering cadets. That he was standing here now, trying to make demands, was as good an illustration of Cardassian arrogance as any she had ever encountered. "You and your friends have received the minimal medical attention required to keep you alive. Meals will be later. As for entertainment, I suggest banging your heads against the wall to see how long it takes for you to pass out. Anything else, Dickhead?"

He reined up, his grey skin darkening. "I am Glinn Drurocc, Bolian. You will demonstrate the respect due to me."

Neraxis nodded at that. "Anything else, Dickhead?"

She waited for another sneer and masculine display. Instead, he glanced at his fellow Cardassians, and then past them, to the Jem'Hadar, before looking back at her, lowering his voice. "You need to move my men and myself into the other Brig. Away from them."

Neraxis frowned, glancing over at the Jem'Hadar, who stood motionless together against the far wall, looking at nothing, saying nothing, fully disarmed but looking fully ready to kill everyone and everything around them. She had in fact intended to divide the numbers up, once they had the time and personnel to do so without risk. "What's happened, lover's spat? I thought you were all one big happy Dominion?"

"You don't understand," Drurocc intoned dangerously. "The Dominion keep the Jem'Hadar in control through the use of a drug called Ketracel White. It's their source of nutrition, and a source of an enzyme they need to keep them alive." He leaned closer, until the invisible field separating him from Neraxis began to crackle a warning. "They're going to run out of the dosage given them before we boarded your vessel. And when it does..."

"Yeah?"

"They will suffer, and they will die. But not before they go insane, attacking and killing everyone they can. Even each other. And more importantly, us."

Neraxis stepped back, frowning. Was it possible? She read the same Security reports as everyone else about the Jem'Hadar, but had not heard about this... though she supposed they're hardly likely to advertise such weaknesses to their enemies. "I'll pass on your concerns." She looked at the Jem'Hadar once more, and shifted down to approach their side of the cell. "Which one of you is in charge?"

None of them responded, or even made a show of acknowledging her, though she saw their eyes flicker briefly in her direction.

She indicated Drurocc. "Is it true, what he says about you?"

Still no response.

"They won't speak," Drurocc informed her from his side of the cell. "They are disgraced for being captured alive, and being deprived of the chance to die honourably for their Founders. Still, give them a few hours in here, and you'll see a response." He sneered. "You should have that anesthizine ready, Bolian. Or maybe you should just kill them outright. It would certainly be more merciful."

Before she could respond to that, the intercom chirped, and Sasha's voice announced, "Lieutenant Neraxis Ostrow: there is a senior staff meeting scheduled for 1500 Hours in the Main Conference Room. Please acknowledge."

Neraxis tapped her combadge. "Acknowledged. Lt Ostrow out." She looked to Drurocc. "Like I said, I'll pass on your concerns. In the meantime, shut up and play nice."

*

Deck 4 Fore -- Shuttlebay:

Kami and Misha Hrelle, both washed and changed into new uniforms, walked hand in hand into something more akin to a convention hall than a utilitarian part of their ship: scores of evacuees congregated in large groups, or lined up to the hastily-constructed hygiene stations and replicators, while Surefoot crewmen and cadets worked to ensure evacuees were updated with news about their wounded colleagues.

Misha's hold on his mother's hand tightened. "Mama?"

She smelled the fear from him, and let her thumb swivel to stroke his hand back. "It's okay, Sweetheart. There's no enemy here."

He nodded at that. "You no be afraid. I'm here."

"Thank you, Cub of Mine. I feel better knowing that."

"Respected Counselor? Respected Offspring?"

Kami beamed. "Kit?"

Misha let go of her and rushed up to Kitirik, leaping up and embracing the reptoid Science Officer, as he approached Kami. "It is wonderful to see you both, alive and well!"

Kami hugged him, taking the infectious and genuine warmth of the young officer like a respite from the horrors of the day. "And you, young man." She poked him gently in the stomach. "You should cut down on the grasshoppers."

His throat wattles flushed purple with embarrassment. "I fear you might be correct, Respected Ma'am. Though the events of the day have given me much exercise-"

A screech at his feet made the Caitians jump, and Misha leapt back to his feet to stare with wonder at the small dust-brown bird strutting around Kit's legs, pecking futilely at the bulkhead. "What's that?"

"This is Chester, a Deltan sand peacock I rescued from the Iberia." He paused as the bird made a noise and extended its tailfeathers into a fan. "Consider yourselves intimidated by his display. Like myself, he could do with a bit of exercise, before he is secured in his cage; they are flightless, and like to run. Perhaps young Misha would care to indulge?"

Misha brightened... but then sobered up. "No. I protect Mama. It's my job."

Kami knelt down beside him. "Sweetheart, you can have some fun, you're still just a cub-"

"No! I stay with you!"

She stroked his fur, calming him down. Great Mother, what was she thinking? All the times she argued with Esek about them staying onboard, despite the dangers they could have faced? Her son could have died! She could have died!

When her tail began slapping against her leg in anxiety, she focused, calmed down, stood up again and looked to Kit. "And how are we doing here?"

He glanced around. "The most seriously wounded have been attended to, Respected Counselor, and are either in one of the Sickbays or convalescing in the Auxiliary Barracks on Deck 4, but there are many here still with minor injuries."

She nodded, following his gaze, seeing the Engineering crew at one of the Shuttlebay doors, having brought in Sasha's shuttle and were now repairing the breach in the door, its invisible force field obviously up in place, or there would be a repeat of the earlier disaster. "I'll see about bringing in additional medical teams with portable kits."

"And perhaps, if I may be so bold, you might wish to speak with Best Friend Giles?"

Kami looked to him again. "Giles? As in Giles Arrington? He's here?"

Kit nodded, scanning the crowds now for him. "Like myself, an evacuee of the Battle of Khavak. He was assigned as First Officer to the James Fenimore Cooper... under Captain Sakuth."

Kami tensed at the mention of the name of the Starfleet Intelligence operative who had caused so much grief to them in the past. "And why do you think I should speak with him?"

"Best Friend Giles was brought onboard unconscious, with medical evidence of having undergone telepathic activity; Captain Sakuth claimed she had done it when he panicked in the midst of battle and needed to be calmed down. Best Friend Eydiir does not trust her account, however."

"Nor would I. Thank you, Kit, I'll keep an eye out for him." She had wanted to find him, but was distracted by an anxious-looking young human female with a number of children Misha's age and older. She approached them. "Hello, I'm Counselor Kami Hrelle, may I help you, Ensign...?"

The short, slim woman with shiny jet hair and Asian features straightened up and looked at her gratefully. "Shirley Vinh, one of the Counselors from the Vancouver."

Kami smiled. "A pleasure to have a fellow professional onboard. I didn't know that we had picked up survivors of the Vancouver as well?"

"Yes, I haven't been able to find anyone else from our ship here. I was hoping to meet up with the shuttle pilot who rescued us, Ensign Meow Rrori. Do you know where he is?"

Kami's heart skipped; in the aftermath of their victory against the boarders, Esek had informed her of Rrori's sacrifice, in getting his evacuees to the Surefoot before his shuttle suffered whatever problems it had been experiencing... but without being able to save himself. It had been a sad end to his story, one of countless others today.

And her reaction obviously told Vinh enough. "Oh."

"I'm sorry. I knew Mr Rrori since he was a cadet; he served aboard this ship before he graduated." She looked at the half-dozen children in her care, children who had no one here that they knew. "Why don't all of you come to our quarters? We have a bath and shower, a storage unit with some fresh food and juice, and cartoons. I mean, assuming there's anyone here who likes Power Cat-"

Vinh's charges stepped up enthusiastically, making sounds of agreement. Misha looked ready to join them... but then remembered his promise, and reluctantly adopted a stern, professional stance again.

*

On the deck directly below, Doctor Kline knelt near a large, uneven mound of hardened, oatmeal-coloured Securifoam sealant, the Klingon passing his tricorder over the edges.

Nearby, Science cadet Niles Angstrom paced nervously, running his long, slender fingers through his curly blonde hair. Beside him, Zir Dassene leaned against a wall, focused on Kline's activities, not wanting to question him, but still concerned. "Excuse me, Doctor-"

He never looked up from his tricorder. "What do you want, Ghu?"

Niles glanced at her, mouthing Ghu?

She mouthed back Baby and faced Kline again. "Doctor, we asked you down here to check on my friend and squadmate. Ever since Stalac was wounded up in the Shuttlebay and ended up down here, and he was covered in that stuff to protect him-"

"I know all that already, Ghu," Kline grunted absently.

Zir breathed in, mentally counting to Ten. Kline was an intimidating presence to the cadets, and even Zir was uneasy having to deal with him. But the events of the day -- the battle, the firefight in Engineering, her having to kill -- were taking their toll on her. "We're worried about Stalac. How long will he be in there? Does he need help? Is he even alive?"

"Hmm? Yes, yes, Ghu." Kline chuckled to himself. "He's a fascinating specimen."

That did it. She strode up to him, grabbed him by the shoulder and straightened him up -- ignoring the half-metre height advantage he had over her -- and placed one hand on the phaser on her belt, her face taut with fury. "He's not a specimen! He's my best friend! And if you'd better start giving me some answers, and some respect, or it'll be my boot up your ass!"

Kline regarded her... and laughed. "Good for you! I have heard of your victory in Engineering! We will down some bloodwine when this is over!"

"Never mind that! What about Stal?"

The Klingon grunted again... and began stomping the heel of his right boot against the Securifoam, chipping it with each strike.

"Hey!" Zir shouted. "Cut that out, right now!"

He complied and stepped back, as the mound began smoking. Kline chuckled. "My readings say he's fine, he just needed to be awakened. You should step back, too."

Zir and Niles complied, the three of them watching as the Securifoam cracked and crumbled, the smell of the material burning filling the air, until finally a rumble heralded the appearance of a large, low, irregularly-shaped brown-orange figure not too dissimilar to the silicon-based material he had emerged from. He rotated in place, the combadge/translator bolted to one side facing the carbon-based lifeforms appearing damaged, but not enough to keep him from speaking. "Z-Zir? Are you- Am I- where-"

She dropped to one knee before her best friend, tears of relief pouring unabated down her olive-skinned face, as she rested her open hands on his surface, feeling the heat and pulsating life beneath his fibrous rocky shell. "Shh, Stal. Take it easy. You have some catching up to do..."

*

Deck 2 Fore -- Conference Room:

The air grew thick with mingling scents as Sasha escorted the guests from the Shuttlebay to take seats opposite the Surefoot officers -- and his two cubs -- and his hackles rose as the guests included a former, unwelcome visitor to his ship, as Captain Sakuth led the rear.

Hrelle fought down another wave of pain in his gut from his wounds as he felt the tension rise among his own people: Sasha, Kami, the cubs, even T'Varik, though he supposed he shouldn't be surprised at that last. She may have been a Vulcan, but she was still profoundly affected by past events. "Please, all of you, sit, this won't take long."

As they complied, he continued. "As senior ranking officers from your respective ships, you will be representing your fellow survivors from the Lynx, Dragonheart, Iberia, Cochise, Vancouver and the James Fenimore Cooper. Captain Sakuth, I believe only you and Lt Arrington arrived here from your former vessel; as there are no officers above the rank of Ensign from the Vancouver and Cochise, I would appreciate you providing information and support to them."

The Vulcan female nodded. "Of course, Captain."

Across the table from her, Misha was standing there, arms folded across his chest, growling under his breath, until Hrelle set a hand on his shoulder. In her mother's arms, Sreen hissed openly at Sakuth.

"You'll have to excuse my cubs, Captain," Kami informed Sakuth, purring to the infant. "They're excellent judges of character."

"Forgive me, Counselor," Nathan Price, former Captain of the Lynx, eyed the cubs warily as he spoke up. "But is there a reason these children are present?"

"Yes, Captain," Hrelle answered for his wife. "Because I want them to be here. Shall we proceed?" He looked to his right, to Sasha. "Lieutenant Hrelle?"

Sasha nodded and called up a holodisplay on the tabletop, conjuring into being an image of their present sector. "We're forced to take a roundabout route to get back to the Fleet, to avoid Dominion sensor grids and traps. Further to that, we're maintaining signal silence, a low signature and not exceeding Warp 5. Under these conditions, our ETA will be approximately five days."

Price frowned. "Five days? Can we survive that long? Do we have enough food, supplies, equipment?"

"It will require some sacrifice on our part," T'Varik answered, eyes fixed on Sakuth with a glare even as she responded to Price. "And a major reallocation of resources, including a restriction on replicator use to basic rations. Areas are being assigned in the non-essential sections for sleeping, which will be scheduled, as will eating and exercise."

Price studied the stellar display between them. "Aren't there any outposts or colonies nearby where we can get help? Not even any Class-M worlds?"

"No, Captain. The Khavak Sector's strategic importance has been more as a stepping stone to the inhabited worlds in adjacent sectors."

"Captain Hrelle," Sakuth spoke up. "There is a Klingon Task Force in the neighbouring Perigord system, along our route, preparing to strike at the Dominion forces we encountered. They were not in place in time for our own attack, but they should be ready by now."

"Indeed?" T'Varik spoke up, an eyebrow raised. "We were not made aware of it in our last Security updates."

Sakuth, meanwhile, remained composed. "It was part of a joint briefing between the Starfleet and Klingon Intelligence agencies, Commander, not necessarily for disclosure to the Thirteenth Fleet, except to Admiral Tattok. My reason for revealing it now is to suggest that they might be of assistance to us at this time, Captain."

Hrelle grunted, aware of his own fierce reluctance to give this woman anything but cold suspicion for her past actions and present associations. But it was a reasonable suggestion, and deserved a reasonable answer. "I doubt if they can afford to give up supplies or give us an escort out of the sector; they'll need everything they can get if they're going up against what we did. But thank you for that information, Captain." He turned to Kami. "Our Medical status, Counselor?"