Surefoot 53: Deep Six

"You were brilliant on the Bridge," Astrid said suddenly.

Jexa looked up. "Excuse me?"

Astrid set aside her cup; she didn't want it anyway. "I listened to you on the Bridge. While T'Varik kept Neheru alive, you stayed in control, coordinating communications with the Captain, the other sections of the ship, ensuring the rest of us did our jobs. Perhaps, because of your efforts today, you helped keep us alive. Hundreds of us onboard." Their eyes met. "Sure, you could do the job of any of your brother's staff. Could they do yours? And would anything you did there on Earth compare with what you have done so far out here?"

Before Jexa could respond, their attention was drawn to sounds near the replicators. Engineering Crewman Logan Gentry was leaning against the wall, as if having lost all power, and was making a painful noise.

And then Astrid kicked herself, as she remembered how minutes before the attack on the Bridge, word had reached them about the death of Chief Grev... and Nancy Yeager, whom Logan had been seeing for months now. She had looked over at him when the news arrived, but he kept his back to the rest of them, and then her attention went elsewhere. She rose, and from the way Jexa copied her, she knew the Squad Leader understood, too.

From when Astrid first met him, Logan always seemed a sturdy figure: tall, broad-shouldered, with bright Scandinavian features, he reminded her of the handsome ski bums around the resorts in the Alps and the Ktarian Glaciers. But now, now he seemed so fragile. Crumbling.

Without saying a word, they guided him out to somewhere more private.

*

Deck 4 Aft -- Post-Operative Suite:

Shyrik closed her tricorder. "There: confirmed telepathic manipulation. About twenty minutes of your memories have been neutralised, from just before you boarded the Surefoot. My findings are all recorded, Lieutenant."

Giles stepped away from the machines. He still couldn't believe it, that this would happen to him. And yet, the evidence was there. Blankly, he nodded. "Thank you, Doctor."

Beside them, Eydiir grunted. "Ensure your findings are secure, Doctor, in case Captain Sakuth attempts to delete or manipulate them."

Giles eyed her. "Aren't you getting a little paranoid?"

"I have to ask that as well," Shyrik added.

"No." The Capellan crossed her arms. "She is a deceitful, manipulative miscreant. She has attempted to destroy this ship, she has threatened Captain Hrelle's son with a phaser-"

"She did what?" Shyrik snarled.

Giles shook his head. The Vulcan had never been the warmest of commanding officers, and he recalled the incident during their final exams and that classified episode where they ended up in another dimension. But could she have been that ruthless?

Eydiir must have seen something in his expression, and drew closer. "Giles, you're the victim here."

"Not necessarily," suggested a new voice.

They turned to see Hrelle approach, Giles straightening himself up. "Captain! It's good to see you again!"

He smiled. "And you, Giles."

Eydiir's gaze narrowed. "What do you mean, 'not necessarily', Sir? Sakuth assaulted him, defamed his honour! She is a scoundrel!"

The Caitian breathed in, wincing. "Doctor, if you would?" As the Andorian approached, scanning him, Hrelle continued. "I could say worse about Sakuth. And she has admitted to lying when we interrogated her." She faced Giles. "She confirmed that, contrary to what she stated previously, you did not panic while on the Cooper. On the contrary, you performed in an exemplary manner." He smiled. "It'll probably be the most truthful thing she's ever said."

He frowned, feeling relieved, though in a detached manner, not having any memories to refute or support in the first place. "Then- Then why- why-"

"Captain Sakuth lied to deflect from her true purpose in erasing your memories: apparently while assisting her in retrieving data prior to your evacuation of the Cooper, you were exposed to classified data above your current security level. And as I'm sure you're already aware, memory alteration, whether by Vulcan mindmeld or more conventional medical means, is an accepted process within Starfleet Intelligence."

He nodded numbly. "Yes. I remember signing the waiver before my initial training for SI. I... I never thought it would actually happen to me-"

"She cannot be trusted!" Eydiir declared. "She has no honour!"

"No," Hrelle admitted, grunting as Shyrik began collecting instruments and treating him. "But at present we have more urgent matters to attend to. Giles, I would appreciate your assistance."

He swallowed, grateful for the offer of a distraction from his confusion. He nodded. "Yes. Yes, of course, Captain. What can I do?"

"Report to the Bridge, relieve Lt Velkovsky. Poor Irina's been running on adrenaline and coffee since before the battle, and won't leave the Helm." He made a sound as Shyrik pushed him back against the wall. "Oww! Watch it, Sizao!"

Shyrik grunted. "You watch it, Captain, Sir! I have to repair not only your wounds but the phaser cauterisation you idiotically performed on yourself like some lone soldier in the wilderness! Now stay still, or I'll relieve you of duty!"

The Caitian blew a raspberry... but kept still. "Can you do that for us, Giles?"

"Of course, Sir. I'm on my way." He nodded and started off.

Until Eydiir grabbed his elbow, her dark Capellan face scowling. "Captain, you cannot allow the blackguard Sakuth to get away with this!"

Hrelle winced at Shyrik's less-than-gentle treatment, but appeared determined to grimace and bear it. "She won't, Nurse. But at the moment, we have bigger shuris to fry." He nodded towards Giles' arm. "You should let go, he might need that. You know, for flying and stuff."

*

Deck 6 -- Morgue:

The air was chill; T'Varik watched her breath ghost before her as she worked, as quickly and efficiently as possible, attaching isolinear tags to each body to aid in their eventual transport when required, having already done this for the additional bodies stored in Cargo Bay 6.

This was a workable plan of the Captain's, she reminded herself. Logical, efficient, and necessary.

She was alone; the details of the plan was known only to a minimum number of people, and the guard outside the facility ensured she would perform this task alone, and not be disturbed by those visiting the dead, who might not understand. Many humanoid cultures possessed illogical, irrational notions about the sanctity of the dead.

It was bizarre, how some devoted far more attention to the respect, the veneration of the dead, than they do the living, building ostentatious tombs, sarcophagi, entire necropolises. Vulcans, of course, once possessed similar customs, but now diminished such traditions to the immediate, and only to ensure the successful passage of the katra from the body into the Void.

She felt herself lingering around the bodies of those she knew and worked with: Chief Grev, Nancy Yeager, Brian Gorman, Glenqom Orogg, Raelinn Aquilar, Dolla Raod, Malcolm Berry... it was illogical, that she might behave differently to these, than to those medical crew and survivors who were here as well, but not known to her. All life had value, not just those with whom she shared history.

Then she came to the bodies, and the body parts, of the enemy. And she saw those she had killed on the Bridge.

She sought regret, that their actions necessitated their deaths.

But she found none.

To those not in the know, Vulcans seemed a cold, detached race, exhibiting behaviour that in other races would be labelled sociopathic. It was a fallacy, of course; exigency required outer control.

Now, however, she felt the rush of rage she had felt when she had killed these Jem'Hadar. Linked to her partner C'Rash, T'Varik had been fuelled by the fury that had gripped the Caitian, and then ignited when T'Varik felt C'Rash die, and the link broken.

T'Varik now sought to mentally compartmentalise the memories, the rage. But she couldn't.

No. She wouldn't.

She knew that it would be a risk to maintain a long-term psionic link with a non-Vulcan partner, especially one from a race as openly passionate as Caitians. And she had seen her general demanour adjust with her relationship with C'Rash. But she believed she could manage it.

She should have shown remorse for killing the Jem'Hadar now lying on the slabs before her, regardless of the circumstances. She should have been disconcerted by her lack of remorse.

Instead, she stared down at the bodies and murmured, "You got what you deserved."

Then she tagged them and moved on.

*

Deck 3 Mid - Brig:

Doctor Masterson frowned as he stood outside of the cell, staring at the display on his medical tricorder, before looking up at the Jem'Hadar prisoners behind the invisible force field. "Tarnation... I can't get a reading on them. Damndest thing."

On the other side of the cell with his fellow Cardassians, Glinn Drurocc sneered. "Of course you can't read them! They're bred to be resistant to sensors, you insipid fool!"

Standing closer to the Cardassians, Neraxis looked to him. "Watch that mouth, Dickhead, or you won't get any ice cream." She looked to Masterson. "Is there anything you can do to overcome that, Doc?"

The human shrugged, turning off his tricorder. "I don't supposed you can let one out so I can take some direct tissue and blood samples?"

That suggestion made the Jem'Hadar react, however subtly... but not too subtly that Neraxis hasn't noticed. "Sorry, Doc. Too risky. What about the Jem'Hadar bodies in the Morgue?"

Masterson shook his head. "Dead tissue offers limited information. Maybe we could pump some anesthezine in there, take one out and have him strapped down in our Science Lab to be examined there? Have however many guards you want present, of course?"

Neraxis frowned at the suggestion. "No! For one thing, I don't even know if anesthezine will even affect them! For another, what about the ethical considerations? You can't experiment on them like lab animals against their will!"

"What? Not even to save their lives?" He turned back to the Jem'Hadar. "Look, Dudes, I've seen too many people die today because of you Horntoads, but that don't mean I don't wanna help you if you need help. Now, I'm told your lives depend on this Ketracel White the Dominion parcels out to ya, but if I get to study you, we might find a way to live without it. You won't have to serve the Founders anymore-"

That notion brought an angry reaction from one of the Jem'Hadar now, his black beady eyes throwing daggers at Masterson. "They are our GODS! We live and die at their command! Victory is Life!"

"Victory is Life!" all of them chanted at once. "Victory is Life!"

"This is pathetic!" Drurocc spat. "You waste your time bleating about ethics and trying to help those who do not want your help!" Then he drew in closer towards Neraxis and leered. "If you're going to let us die in here, at least let us have some small diversion."

Neraxis frowned. "Diversion? What in Hraxor's name are you talking about?"

The Cardassian chuckled. "How about sending in that sweet little human from Engineering? We would love to get to know her better."

Masterson's face went red with anger. "The Hell you say!"

Drurocc ignored him, focusing on Neraxis, bolstered by the encouragement he was receiving from his men. "She had quite a sharp tongue on her. We've got better things for her to wrap it around than her insults."

Neraxis stared back, mentally counting to Ten before replying deadpan, "Sorry, she's not available. But she's got a friend who I know is interested in having some quality time with you and your men." She turned and walked to the door, letting it slide open and gesturing to the individual standing in the corridor beyond.

She returned to the cell... with Urad Kaldron following.

The Cardassians immediately went silent, backing away from the force field as Neraxis regarded them, feeling the huge presence of the Hroch cadet behind her. "What's wrong? You don't want to make any more jokes about trying to rape that young woman? Why not? You were pretty gabby just a few seconds ago!"

Urad drew closer to the force field, still saying nothing, still keeping his dark eyes fixed on Drurocc.

The Cardassians backed away further.

"What in Seven Hells is going on?"

Neraxis turned at the sound of the new voice. "Lieutenant?"

C'Rash entered, having to walk around Urad before coming between him and the cell.

Masterson stepped forward. "Lieutenant, who in Blazes released you from Sickbay?"

"I released myself, Doc. Five more minutes lying next to Spots, and you'd have been doing surgery to get his head removed from his rectum." She looked to Neraxis. "I appreciate you covering for me, and I'd like your continued support as my second for the duration of this crisis."

Neraxis nodded, feeling relieved at her return. "Of course, Ma'am."

"At last," Drurocc interrupted. "Some experienced, level-headed authority is in place here. I am-"

"Shut your mouth." C'Rash turned back to Masterson. "I heard about what you're trying to do for our prisoners, but it's going to have to wait, something's come up-"

Drurocc drew closer. "Lieutenant, I don't think you properly grasp the gravity of-"

C'Rash spun around, hissing loudly at him and making him step back again. "I told you to shut your Motherdamned mouth! You're lucky you and these other piles of crap are facing a Federation Court for your filthy crimes, instead of a Caitian Matriarch's Tribunal, where they'd take your balls off while you watched! Now for the last time, shut up!"

The Cardassian glared... but complied.

*

Sickbay 1:

"Computer, where are the Hrelle Cubs?"

"Misha and Sreen Hrelle are in Sickbay 1."

Jhess had been returning to his quarters, but now stopped in the corridor, his heart racing. "Is one of them sick or hurt?"

"I do not have that information."

He was racing in that direction, ignoring the pains in his lungs, before the computer finished its reply. He had been hired to watch over those cubs... and had fallen in love with them, almost as much as if they were his kin. If one or both of them ended up in Sickbay because he had let his combat instincts overwhelm him and ran off to save C'Rash-

He barely made it through the opening doors, skidding to a halt before running into the Klingon doctor, Kline. "Sorry! Where are the-"

But then his snout picked up the scents, of the cubs and their mother, clustered around Hrelle receiving medical treatment. Misha now rushed up to the nanny. "Hi, Jhessie! I protect Mama!"

Jhess bent down and caught the cub, rising... and immediately regretting it, letting him down again as he went into a coughing fit.

Kline and a couple of nurses helped him up to an adjacent biobed. Kline grunted. "A valiant effort, Doctor, but perhaps with those newly-regenerated lungs, you checked yourself out a little too soon?"

Jhess tried to wave it off, though his staccato, cough-punctuated speech betrayed him. "No- I'm- I'm okay- R-Really-"

Kami drew up to him. "You left Sickbay before you were ready? What kind of example is that to set?"

But the nanny smiled his most charming smile, patting her muzzle. "Please, Kami, Sweetie, you need me, don't deny it! I can handle anything!"

"Really? You're up for cub minding again?"

He held out his arms generously. "I'm up for minding a hundred cubs!"

She eyed him... and then smiled back. "Well, they don't number a hundred, just six, plus Misha and Sreen, but there may be more from the rest of the survivors once word gets around."

The spotted male frowned. "Um... I'm not sure I'm tracking your scent, Sweetie."

"The Nursery you're going to set up and run."

Jhess' mouth opened, and then closed.

Allowing Kami to continue. "Six young survivors of the Vancouver, and their carer, are currently cleaning up, eating and sleeping in my quarters. You'll be in charge of them, and possibly more: eating, education, entertainment, exercise-"

"All the E's..." He harrumphed.

"And you'll have a little helper." She indicated Misha, who stood near his sister, arms folded, growling at anyone who dared draw near. "Or a little assassin."

*

Deck 3 Fore -- Shuttlebay:

Sasha strode up to the Engineering crewmen, as the Shuttlebay doors slid open, the atmospheric force field keeping them safe but not preventing some around her, no doubt still recovering from the breach earlier, from reacting. She glanced out at the ice giant of lime-green and aquamarine storm clouds they were approaching. "Everything okay here?"

A couple in Engineering Gold turned to her, an older petite woman with a stern face, and a younger, large-framed man. Chief Maryk nodded, her Russian accent carrying her attitude. "How do they manage to get anything done onboard? 75% of the computer processing, power and replicator allocation is geared towards medical applications! They have three Sickbays, a Post-Operative Suite, Stasis Units-"

She shrugged. "It's an ambulance ship, what'd you expect?" She indicated the man beside Maryk. "And don't knock it; because of it, they managed to get this big lug fixed up in record time! How's your leg by the way, Jim?"

Lt Jim Madison smiled, giving the right leg that had been broken by that fakakta spy Shanek on the Ajax a shake before replying, "I might need to test it later by kicking your ass for everything you've put me through today."

Sasha smirked; it had been a busy day for them both. "I think I liked you better when you were doped up on ambizine." Then she sobered. "I am sorry. The evidence was pointing so heavily towards you-"

Jim waved it off, his broad smile widening. "Forget it, Wildcat."

Then they all started as the Shuttlebay alerts prompted them to clear the path of the shuttlecraft, the vessels rising and passing slowly through the force field and into the outside. Sasha nodded. "I gotta get back to the Bridge. Could you two head down to Engineering? We'll need to batten down the hatches for our deep sea dive."

Jim studied her. "Is there something wrong, Sash?"

She almost told him, but remembered where they were. "We're going to have to do something that will upset a lot of the people here. We can't talk about it, not now. Come on."

Nearby, the Andorian Chief of Security from the Lynx stood, watched and listened to the conversation without being seen.

*

Bridge:

Hrelle had returned to the Bridge and taken his seat just before T'Varik and Sasha had returned, the latter taking her place at Ops, the former stopping and eyeing him. "Captain? You have been treated and released?"

He nodded, never taking his eyes off of the viewscreen, showing the Surefoot skimming over the upper atmosphere of the ice giant, the three shuttlecraft zooming ahead in formation. "Yes, Mama. The doctor even gave me a lollipop for being a good cub. Would you like to know where I'm keeping it?"

"I... do not, Sir. The bodies have been tagged, along with the designated debris, and Lt Hrelle will supervise the transporter controls."

"Good. Giles, open the plasma vents. I want the Cardassians to begin thinking we were having problems on our apparent descent."

"Aye, Sir."

At Tactical, C'Rash reported, "Cardassian Galors appear to be increasing speed now; the first ones will be within effective sensor range in thirty minutes."

From her station, Sasha now spoke up. "Giles, there'll be a significant power drop for the transporters for a few seconds, be ready to compensate."