Surefoot 56: Shelter from the Storm

Despite his efforts, there is discontent among the survivors, especially after the actions Captain Hrelle took to hide us from the Cardassians using the bodies of the dead onboard. This is discontent I have been secretly exacerbating through selective sabotage, albeit nothing sufficient to impede our progress to safety."

"Cease further such activities; you must focus on your primary mission. Have you managed to arrange to be alone with Hrelle yet?"

"No. The ongoing crisis and lack of trust on the part of the senior officers for me has proven difficult."

"You must overcome that difficulty. Tattok has sent his son to find the Surefoot; and I have just learned that Ma'Sala Shall is accompanying him with her flagship."

Sakuth raised an eyebrow. "Her arrival will complicate matters."

"Or simplify them, if you obtain the required information, and plant the Judas Press in his mind, before her arrival. Then his subsequent actions could be judged as the result of Post Traumatic Disorder."

Sakuth nodded in agreement to herself. "I must contrive a means of gaining his trust." She paused and asked, "We will be passing the Skrysa system. Is Agar's organisation still present there?"

"Yes, at least at the last report; he cut off all contact with the rest of the Galaxy at the commencement of the War."

"He may still be useful, if I can arrange for a need to contact them, and arrange for a way to be vital to our immediate survival, before offering a moment of vulnerability alone with him. Hrelle has a predilection for mercy, an exploitable weakness."

Trenagen paused, before responding. "Do not underestimate him, or any of the Caitians. As a people and a Federation member world, they have historically proven to be too independent and feral to be completely trustworthy. Take whatever steps are necessary to complete your mission."

Sakuth raised an eyebrow. "Any steps, Admiral? Does this mean-"

"My meaning is explicit. Trenagen out."

Sakuth rose, looking through the shuttle cockpit window to see Giles Arrington approach, and she shut down the interfaces. The young human's usefulness to her had reached an end, and recent actions confirmed what she expected he was coming to see her about, having avoided Sakuth as much as possible since their arrival.

The shuttle gull wing door rose, and Giles entered, staying at the doorway, keeping his distance, his expression ambivalent. "Captain, Captain Hrelle asked me to relay his request that you attend a status meeting at 0900 Hours in the Conference Room."

She folded her hands behind her back and nodded formally. "I have been restricted to the Shuttlebay. Do I now have the freedom of the ship?"

"No, an escort will come for you, Ma'am. If you'll excuse me-"

"Mr Arrington," she started, waiting for him to stop and turn back to face her. She affected her most sincere and regretful facade. "I am cognisant of your understandable reaction to my alteration of your memory. I must assure you that it was necessary. You had inadvertently became aware of information far above your security levels-"

"Captain Sakuth," he interrupted, looking stressed. "I understand completely. I don't have a problem with that."

She raised an eyebrow, studying his predictable reactions. "Then perhaps your disquieted state lies with the story I told your colleagues, about your panicking during the battle. That dishonesty was lamentable, but required to dissuade them from further interference. You behaved gallantly, and saved not only myself and yourself, but the gathered intelligence. I will ensure my report is clear about your commendable actions... and as per Starfleet Intelligence Regulations, we will not be working together again." She allowed a deliberate pause before adding, "I understand if you find comfort in that."

He failed to keep himself from displaying relief over that information. "Thank you for your understanding, Captain. If you'll excuse me, Ma'am, I'm on duty on the Bridge in half an hour."

"Of course." She offered another pause. "Before you depart: are you... enjoying being back at the Helm again, Giles?"

He reacted to her unaccustomed use of his first name, and made a show of considering the answer, though he seemed to know the answer almost from the start. "Yes, Ma'am. It's..." Now he paused.

"It's free of subterfuge, of duplicity?" she offered. "It is an enviable candour. Perhaps, while you continue to serve Captain Hrelle in your former role, you might consider whether you would prefer to remain in Starfleet Intelligence. Not that you cannot perform your duties in this capacity in an exemplary manner... but there is more to life than efficiency at work. There is also personal satisfaction. I would not wish to do anything more in life than what I am doing now. You, on the other hand, might feel differently. And should you require any assistance from me towards achieving that, you have but to ask."

Giles now appeared nonplussed by her words, but he managed another nod and a, "Thank you, Captain. I should go."

"Proceed, Lieutenant."

He departed.

Sakuth mentally prepared her next moves.

*

Deck 3 Mid -- Starboard Corridor:

"NOMIE NOMO NOMA WOOWOOWA!"

Sreen was singing again, a melodic babble of her own creation. And for an infant, she had quite a set of lungs on her. She wore a training exoframe, to get her used to having the real thing on in a few weeks' time, and sat in her harness on Hrelle's back as he made his way to Sickbay, the infant looking out at the Universe from over her father's right shoulder, singing to everyone they passed.

He smiled, despite his lack of sleep -- between the current crisis, and the cub's tendency to wake up in the middle of night for an impromptu aria, he felt like every other breath he took manifested as a yawn -- and their current predicament, as he entered Sickbay 1. He put on his professional face as he took in the activity: survivors standing by or lying on biobeds being treated by medical staff... one of them, the CMO, striding up to him. "Morning, Captain." He drew up to Sreen, reaching up and tickling under her muzzle. "Morning, 'Lil Critter!"

"GOOBA GOOBA GOOBA DEEE!"

She ended with a note that made Hrelle wince, and even Masterson shook his head. "Whoa, that one went right through me like a cold chill! I don't remember your boy hitting notes like that!"

Hrelle nodded, pulling a pacifier from his pocket and sticking it in Sreen's muzzle. "Female infant cubs talk sooner, and have a capacity for higher pitches than their male counterparts... as she's proven the last couple of nights. What happened? Eydiir said it was poisoning?"

Masterson looked around at the others. "Everyone here ingested small amounts of decapricoxin, a potent agent that induces anaphylactic reactions: skin reactions, constricted airways, nausea, dizziness-"

"Lethal dosages?"

"Not for most of them, though some have suffered more extreme reactions than others, and without immediate medical attention... well, lucky for them Ensign Dassene acted when she did and prevented more people from being affected."

He looked to his left, seeing the young Orion woman at the far end, with his First Officer and Chief of Security. "Thanks, Zeke. I'll let you get back to your work." He walked over to the three females. "Report, Commander."

T'Varik straightened up. "The replicator algorithms in the Officer's Mess were altered, to add the poison into random orders of food and drink at a predetermined time. All replicators, food and non-food, are offline until Lt Ostrow and his Engineering team finishes inspecting them. He has already cleared the medical replicators in the Sickbays, but estimates another six hours to do the rest."

"There'll be a delay to getting people fed again, but it can't be helped." He growled. "It wasn't an accident."

Beside T'Varik, her partner Lt C'Rash Shall crossed her arms, the black-furred Caitian's tail swishing strongly behind her. "Definitely not. Whoever did it bypassed the security firewalls at some point in the last seventy-two hours."

Hrelle tensed; behind him, Sreen sensed his change of mood and growled at nothing between suckling. "The same type of breach that caused the power outages in the Shuttlebay and Auxiliary Engineering yesterday?" He had hoped that his people had been mistaken about that. "Take us to Security Level 5; I don't want a repeat of this."

His niece looked to him. "The evacuees who have been taking some of the workload off of our crew aren't cleared for that, they'll be limited to what they can do-"

"I want them limited. And I want our people running the checks." He looked to T'Varik. "Are you able to return to duty, Commander?"

The Vulcan nodded. "Doctor Masterson repaired the injuries to my brain, Sir, and has released me."

"Good." Then he focused on Zir, offering a warm paternal smile. "As for you, Ensign: everything you do makes me all the more confident in my decision to promote you and the others."

Zir flushed dark olive. "Thank you, Sir. What do you want us to do now?"

"You and the others will proceed to Cargo Bay 3 and load up an antigrav with all the pre-replicated ration packs you can, and deliver them to the Shuttlebay; children and civilians have priority. And if you're asked, just say it's a replicator malfunction, nothing more. Dismissed."

"Aye, Sir."

As the young women departed, Hrelle turned to T'Varik and C'Rash. "I wish I could say that's the only bad news today..."

T'Varik raised an eyebrow. "What else has happened?"

"When I woke up I studied the tactical logs from the Night Shift, the movements of enemy ships in the area, and I want both your opinions on it." He turned his head to look at Sreen. "And maybe Princess here will be ready for that nap now, huh?"

"DOY BI BI COO COO WEEEEE!" Then Sreen hit another high note in punctuation.

T'Varik flinched, as did C'Rash, cursing under her breath.

Hrelle grunted, getting used to it even when the Little Howler was right up against his ear. "Come on..."

*

Deck 2 Fore -- Bridge:

Giles emerged, expecting to see Captain Hrelle awaiting him... instead finding Sasha in the centre seat. He approached, keeping formal as he announced, "Reporting for duty, Lieutenant."

Sasha had been perusing the PADD in her hand, but now she rose and set the PADD on the seat. "Lieutenant Arrington, you're early. Good: something's come up I need to brief you on." She indicated the door to the Captain's Ready Room.

He nodded and preceded her. Ever since they had returned to the Surefoot during Khavak, she had been in turns distant and abrasive to him, which he put down to his earlier behaviour when they last met, and he had ideas that they could get back together again. And certainly after that business earlier with the dead graverobbers on that weird black ship, her attitude had accentuated. But he was determined to remain professional... because as much as she hated to admit it, Captain Sakuth had been correct: he was enjoying being back at the Helm. So he'd put up with just about anything to continue doing it.

As they entered the Ready Room and the door slid shut, he turned to her. "What is it, Lieutenant?"

Sasha shifted in place, her strawberry blonde hair ponytailed back, her expression one of uncharacteristic reluctance, vulnerability. "I... want to apologise to you, Giles. I've not been behaving as either a superior officer, or a friend to you."

Her gaze fixed now, unwavering, as if the start of this catharsis gave her the strength to face him and continue. "The last year has been the most stressful time in my life... and I haven't had the chance to heal before the next hurt comes along. And I think I wanted to make sure you didn't get the idea that I wanted to resume what we had, and that I was now outranking you as Second Officer, so I overcompensated for both of those..." She shook her head. "That's not an excuse... just an explanation. I hope you can forgive me."

And with that, he felt a tremendous load drop from his shoulders too. Relieved at her gesture, Giles relaxed his posture. "Of course, Sash. I'm- I'm sorry you've had to shoulder all of that yourself... especially if I've been adding to it."

"Not intentionally, Giles. You've been amazing! Especially after what the bitch Sakuth put you through-"

He felt the need to refute that, after what the Vulcan had said to him before, but he was aware from Eydiir of Sakuth's prior actions on the Surefoot, and instead offered, "Tell you what: let's just agree to watch out for each other, huh? To be there if we need each other."

Sasha smiled with relief. "Definitely." She moved towards them, but stopped herself. "You think we can hug without it getting weird?"

Giles chuckled. "I think the last five years since I first boarded a Surefoot have been weird."

She laughed. They hugged.

The door on the other side of the Ready Room slid open, and Hrelle, T'Varik and C'Rash entered, stopping as the young couple parted. Hrelle regarded them and quipped, "Commander, see about getting a cub-proof lock on these doors."

*

Deck 3 Mid -- Counselor's Office:

Kami Hrelle nodded to the rest of the medical professionals, fellow Counselors from among the survivors of Khavak, who have volunteered to pool their resources and offer an organised relief effort to those still reeling from the trauma of the battle and the losses they had all suffered. And despite the situation, she enjoyed interacting with people in her own field. "...And while I don't normally advocate pharmaceuticals, if there's any among you whom you think might benefit in the short term, please let me know." She set aside her PADD. "Any last questions?"

"Any news we can pass on about getting back with the Fleet?" one of them asked.

Kami kept her neutral face, remembering the reaction she saw on her husband this morning when he studied some reports from the last shift while the family was having breakfast. She knew she had to be truthful to them, even if they ended up diluting that truth to their people. "There have been some Jem'Hadar patrols spotted in the area, requiring us to reduce our speed and take a less-direct route to safety."

Her mention of the Jem'Hadar triggered a change in the scents of those around her, prompting her to continue, "We think they may have been alerted to the encounter we just had with an unidentified vessel from... an unusual location."

"A vessel?" Another of them echoed. "What vessel? From where? Who?"

Kami suppressed a shudder; how to explain Bodysnatchers from Another Dimension, flying balls and shrunken zombies without sounding like she'd been in the sun too long? "It's classified now. What matters is that it'll take a little longer than expected... but our priority is to get home safe, not fast."

"What about the food situation?" Ensign Shirley Vinh, the young Counselor from the Vancouver who had been saved, along with a group of children from that ship, by the heroic efforts of the late Meow Rrori, asked. "Why has it been stopped?"

"It's been postponed, not stopped, and there's some sort of malfunction with the replicators, but we're breaking out the pre-replicated ration packs. The children and the civilians will remain on High Priority, of course." She looked around, trying to remain cheerful. "A good time for those of us who need to lose a few kilos before our next reviews." She patted her belly for punctuation, triggering chuckles from some of the others.

Outside her office, a familiar voice declared, "NO! STAY BACK!"

Kami controlled her reaction, looking around. "Sounds like that's our cue to end this." She moved around to step outside first. "Cub of Mine?"

Misha was in front of her office door, as he had chosen to be since she started this meeting, and his claws were bared and his arms outstretched, facing one of the nurses who had volunteered among the survivors to assist with the Surefoot medical teams. The nurse, a young Vulcan male with a broad face and olive complexion, was typically composed, if confused about the reception he was receiving. "Your belligerent attitude is counterproductive, young man. I need to use the medical replicator past you. Stand aside."

The nurse continued his approach, until Misha growled, raised his claws and bared his teeth., his tail snapping like a whip behind him.

"Misha!" Kami scolded. "That's more than enough! Apologise!" She looked down at her son, who stood there, arms crossed, scowling. "Well?"

"Sorry," he grumbled, relaxing his stance and retracting his claws. "You may pass."

She grunted and looked up at the nurse again. "I apologise, Lieutenant. This won't happen again." She grasped Misha by the collar of his jacket and moved him out of the way of the nurse, guiding him in the direction of Counselor Vinh. "Shirley. you'll be returning to Jhess and the children. Take Scrappy here with you, and make sure he doesn't finish the day without laughing and playing on at least three separate occasions."

Shirley smiled. "Understood, Kami." She set a guiding hand on Misha's shoulder. "Come on, Misha, Jhess has got a project going in the Arboretum today with the other kids!"

The cub growled, slipping out of Shirley's touch to take her hand instead and lead her. "No, you come, I show you where."

*

Deck 8, Secondary Antimatter Storage:

Chief Helga Maryk crawled backwards out of the access conduit into the Antimatter Containment Pods, shouting back down, "Jri govno i zdohni!"

Standing up, the broad-framed Lt Jim Madison looked down in amusement. "That didn't translate, but I expect that whatever you're cursing, its ears are burning."

"If only," she muttered, tapping her combadge. "Chief Maryk to Lt Ostrow!"

Immediately she tried to amend her command, but not before the computer helpfully responded, "Please specify communications recipient."

"Zasranic! It's Lt Jonas Ostrow! The Chief Engineer! It's always going to be the Chief Engineer! I won't want to speak with his wife unless I want the govnosos computer on this ship arrested for being an idiot!" She leaned back against the wall beside the conduit. "Bad enough they've upped the security protocols so now I have to get authorisation before I can scratch my rear end... I swear I'll rip out every circuit, eat them and shit them out!"

Then her combadge replied, with a young man's amused voice, "That won't improve them, Chief."

Maryk sat up. "Mr Ostrow! Get down here now, with Engineering tricorders, isolation sweeps, molecular sealants-"

Madison straightened up. "What's going on, Helga?"

Jonas echoed the sentiment. "What is it, Chief?"

"You've got Shiprot onboard!"

"Are you sure? It's not easy to pick up on tricorders-"

"I know the damn signs of it! It's all over the bloody Antimatter Containment Pods on Deck 8!"

There was a pause, and then, "The team is on its way. How bad is it? Can we divert the antimatter to the reserve pods?"

"The pod fields are all still at 100%, but the Shiprot might be in the interlinking compartments and the ejector systems, so you can't move or remove it just now. And it looks worse the further down towards the outer layers of the hull."

"The dorsal hull connectors will be the most likely origin point, all the impacts the ship went through, flying through the debris in the battlezone, and maybe that business with the Graverobbers. Can you or Mr Madison supervise the team when they arrive?"

"I'll do it. Goliath here couldn't even get his big toe into the rathole-sized conduits on this damn ship. Maryk out." She rubbed her eyes.

Madison dropped into a squat beside her. "Shiprot... I've heard horror stories about that stuff, Chief. Think you caught it in time?"