Surefoot 58: Upgrade

Captain's Personal Log, Stardate 52555.58, Esek Hrelle, Commanding: the last of the wounded and non-wounded evacuees we rescued from the Battle of Khavak have been transported to the Samaritan and other vessels in the Thirteenth Fleet. This includes my former Second Officer, Lt Neheru, who requires extensive surgery and post-operative rehabilitation, and my former Chief Helmsman Lt Velkovsky, who with my blessing is accompanying him while taking a long-overdue leave of absence. They will both be missed.

While repairs continue on my ship, and my First Officer seeks replacements for our crew losses, everyone else is being cleared through Fleet Counselors, before taking a well-deserved extended shore leave. My family and I should be doing the same, but Admiral Tattok has called me back to his flagship the Triton for another meeting.

At first I assumed it had something to do with our recent... experiences... with Admiral Trenagen and Captain Sakuth, ostensibly of Starfleet Intelligence. Both are officially listed as Missing in Action, and according to the newly-appointed Head of SI, Admiral Kirsten Clancy, no further investigation regarding their ultimate fate will be made. And everyone seems quite satisfied with this.

I can't say I'm surprised. I wish I could.

But no, Tattok is calling me in for something else entirely... and has asked my wife to accompany me..."

*

Hrelle caught the scent of the young human male in the Conference room before he actually saw him: a short, slim figure with pale Nordic features and blonde hair in a cut straight out of the Academy. Only the Commander's pips on his gold-topped uniform belied his youth and callow features, and the intense look on his face as he regarded the Caitians seemed to reflect the weight of the responsibilities he seemingly carried.

He kept his gaze fixed on them as Tattok made the introductions. "Commander, this is the renowned Captain Esek Hrelle of the Surefoot, and his wife and Chief Counselor, Kami. Captain, Counselor, this is Commander Dietrich Bergstrom, from the Jupiter Station Holoprogramming Centre. Mr Bergstrom is an assistant to Dr Lewis Zimmerman, the designer of the Emergency Medical Hologram."

"Former assistant, Admiral," Bergstrom corrected confidently, shaking the Hrelles' paws before all of them took seats around the table. "I'm now in charge of a project that will far exceed Zimmerman's rather passable efforts with the EMH."

"Sounds impressive," Kami remarked, smiling. "I hope it involves giving the EMH a personality. The one on our ship is as pleasing to deal with as a dose of mange."

If Bergstrom recognised her joke, he made no show of it. "No, Counselor; it was decided that such improvements would be saved for the EMH Mark II and later versions. I'm here to implement what I'm calling the Strategic Support Hologram, an interactive program that will offer real-time tactical support to starship commanders in battle."

"Indeed," Tattok continued, the diminutive Admiral fixing his black eyestalks on the Caitians. "Our recent... less-than-stellar performance at Khavak, reflected by similar performance with other Fleets, highlights the relative lack of practical combat experience many of our Captains possess, and how vulnerable we can be when Fleet communications break down in battle. If this works, the SSH will provide the experience and expertise of a veteran officer."

Hrelle nodded politely, though he couldn't help but argue, "It's one thing to have a medical hologram, an expert system tapping into appropriate databases to provide diagnoses and treatments. You could even conceivably design something equivalent for Engineering or Science purposes.

But Strategic and Tactical situations are more than just problems to dispassionately analyse. They require levels of creativity and drive that computer programs can't match."

"I concur, Captain," Bergstrom agreed. "Which is why the SSH will be based not on an expert system accessed by a generic holomatrix, but on the memories and personality of a highly-decorated Starfleet officer. Hence my reason for coming out here."

"I see," Hrelle nodded, looking to Tattok and smiling. "Well, then, I guess Congratulations to you are in order, Sir. They couldn't have chosen a more ideal inspiration."

Tattok glanced at Kami. "Is this false modesty on his part, Counselor?"

"No, he's being genuinely obtuse." She leaned in closer to Hrelle. "The Admiral didn't invite us here to congratulate him, Husband of Mine."

He blinked, his smile becoming a frown. "Me? Admiral, I know I've served as your Strategic Operations Officer at times, and I've had some small victories in my career-"

Tattok harrumphed. "Keep this up, and I'm going to suspect this is a ploy to take my job. Commander, remind us of the Captain's suitability for this project."

Bergstrom lifted up a PADD from the table and glanced at the text as he spoke. "Between 2340 and 2375, you had security and tactical assignments on the Charleston, the Sirocco and the Linaari, and you had command of the Scimitar, the Furyk and two incarnations of the Surefoot.

In this time, you participated in over 520 separate space- and planet-based combat engagements, against Orions, Nausicaans, Tholians, Tzenkethi, Ferengi, Miradorn, Klingons, Talarians, Ferasans and numerous criminal, terrorist and piratical organisations. 74.5% of these were forces considered of equal or superior strength to your own. In 90.5% of the engagements, you emerged victorious with acceptable levels of casualties."

"I question your use of the word 'acceptable', Commander," Hrelle told him soberly, stunned at his long career being encapsulated so... mathematically.

Bergstrom frowned back. "Why, Captain? Realistically, one must allow for the loss of subordinates in engagements-"

"And I question your use of the word 'engagements'. That makes it all sound so... civilised. I promise you, bubulah, it isn't."

The human continued looking bemused by his reaction, but resumed. "Well, regardless of how differently we view things, no one can argue that you are an exceptional officer with a diverse range of experience and expertise. I intend to take full advantage of you."

"Please, Commander, not in front of the wife."

Bergstrom frowned again. "Captain, with respect I don't think you fully appreciate the great honour being bestowed upon you. Once the SSH Project is given the inevitable approval by Starfleet Command, your image and voice will be on hundreds of starship Bridges, helping save countless lives."

"My husband is appreciative," Kami assured him, before Hrelle could respond. "But I'm curious: you mentioned before that you would be using his memories and personality. How would that work?"

Bergstrom set aside his PADD again, offering her a patronising expression. "It's a rather complex subject, Counselor. I don't know if I can fully explain the mechanics behind it in basic terms to a therapist-"

She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she looked at him sweetly. "Have you solved the problem of cascade failure in the construction of positronic matrix simulacra? The paper in the Daystrom Institute Journal last year by Admiral Haftel indicated that the complexity of duplicating a sentient mind remains an insurmountable obstacle."

Bergstrom's jaw literally dropped, as Hrelle chuckled. "Counseling involves much more than just sitting there helping you talk through your feelings. Underestimate my wife at your peril."

"Of course," the human finally conceded, flushing with embarrassment and looking more like a Squab now than a senior officer. "My apologies, Counselor. To answer your question, I won't be attempting to fully duplicate Captain Hrelle's mind, just a selected number of specific memories relating to combat, along with his personality and creativity."

Hrelle looked between the two of them. "Cybernetic technology is advanced enough to identify the specific content of my memories? You can tell the difference between a memory of my taking on the Klingons and a memory of what my wife and I got up to on our last anniversary?"

"No, Captain," Bergstrom admitted. "Not in the way you might think. But the age of your memories, and the acuity of memories that are triggered during times of increased stress levels during fight-or-flight situations such as combat, can be measured. I'll cross-match the Stardates of your recorded engagements with the appropriate memory engrams."

Kami nudged him. "See? No one will ever know how great you are in bed... or at least, how great you think you are." But then she looked to Tattok. "I'm still not clear about why I'm here though, Sir."

The Roylan looked back. "As an experienced Counselor, and Captain Hrelle's wife, you're in the best position to assess the SSH holomatrix and determine both its fidelity to the memories and personality of the original, and its stability. And you can do it quickly. I intend to see the SSH installed on every ship in the Fleet in less than a month's time."

Hrelle frowned. "A month? With respect, aren't you rushing things, Sir?"

"Have you written the condolence letters for those crewmembers you lost, Captain?"

Hrelle felt his skin flush under his fur. "Yes, Sir."

"So have I. And I've had to do that for the Captains and senior officers of those vessels that were completely destroyed. I wanted to do it for their crews, too, but I literally don't have the time to repeat that... for the hundreds and hundreds more that we lost. Anything that can be done to minimise this loss in future battles must be considered."

"Admiral," Kami addressed him. "We've only just been cleared for duty, but we still need shore leave with our cubs."

"As a parent, I understand, Counselor. Once the Project reaches the testing stage and no further direct input is required from either of you, you will be released from this assignment."

Hrelle glanced at his wife, before looking back at the other men. "When do we start?"

*

The officer stood at attention in the Surefoot Ready Room, adding a little more height to their slight figure, appearing younger than their late twenties. The hair on their hair was cut down to the scalp, barely illustrating a purple-lavender tint, a genetic legacy of early human deep space travel and colonisation with inadequate cosmic radiation shielding, and it was a colour matched in their eyes.

Eyes now fixed on Commander T'Varik, as the latter recited from a brief report. "Name: Sextilis Magna Bellator. Current Rank: Ensign. Personal Title: Non-Binary Misc. Homeworld: Nova Roma Colony, Ficus Sector. Graduate Class of 2366, Specialising in Communications and Exolinguistics. Awarded the Uhura Ribbon for Advancements to Communications Technology. Previously assigned to the USS Korolev and the Seventh Fleet, now assigned to Support Services on the Triton and the Thirteenth." She paused, and then prompted, "Would you care to explain what happened on the Korolev, Ensign?"

Bellator stiffened; their accent reminiscent to T'Varik of Terran Mediterranean as they replied, "No, Ma'am."

The Vulcan frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

"I said No, Ma'am."

T'Varik rose to her feet. "Are you being deliberately insubordinate, Ensign?"

Bellator tilted their head. "Not at all, Ma'am. You asked me if I cared to explain what happened on the Korolev. I answered honestly."

T'Varik raised an eyebrow. "An unsuitable time for frivolity, Misc Bellator. Particularly from someone who has just undergone a court martial and demotion."

"Begging your pardon, Ma'am, but..." Their voice trailed off.

T'Varik nodded. "Continue."

The Nova Roman swallowed. "But I must question your reason for summoning me. You see, I've stood before more than one senior officer from various ships in the Fleet since my court martial. They use the opportunity to inform me that in their opinion, I was lucky not to have faced imprisonment, and I should resign and not continue to stain the Service with my continued presence."

"Rest assured, Ensign, I will most assuredly not be doing any of that." She walked around the desk to approach them, softening her voice. "I have read the deposition of the trial, and I am astute enough to recognise when I require more information. You said nothing in your own defence."

They raised a spade jaw to her. "The evidence spoke for itself."

"Evidence never speaks for itself; you can, however. Dereliction of Duty during Wartime is a very serious offence."

Bellator bristled, their dark lips pursing. "I suppose I should be grateful that they didn't just come out and use the word Cowardice in the court martial... but that's what it was. I had spent my years after graduation at the Aures Abyssi Cryptoanalysis Facility, analysing Romulan transmissions. When forces were redeployed to starship duties at the start of the War, I found myself with the Seventh Fleet at the Tyra System. I was terrified. Everyone kept telling me that when we faced battle, I'd be fine.

Everyone was wrong. I panicked, at the worst possible time. And people were injured as a result."

T'Varik frowned now. "Such a reaction is not atypical, particularly during combat, and not necessarily requiring a punitive response, despite the opinions of some. Did you not have any mitigating evidence from your Counselors?"

Bellator lowered their gaze. "I did not allow it to be admitted. Captain Boyer of the Korolev was determined to make an example of me. I was determined to let him."

T'Varik folded her hands behind her. "And so you were demoted to Ensign, and reassigned to Support Duty on the Triton. Prior to your assignment on the Korolev, you were lauded for your work in communications and cryptography at Aures Abyssi. Why were you not returned there, to exploit your obvious talents?"

The Nova Roman frowned. "I've been labelled a Security Risk. Now I can't do anything more classified than degaussing Shuttledeck floors and cleaning hygiene chambers." They swallowed again. "I think they're trying to get me to resign."

"Then I must ask: why haven't you?"

Bellator scowled, looking defiant even in apparent defeat. "Nova Romans take duty seriously. I joined Starfleet to serve others, in any capacity. If that means cleaning toilets and floors... so be it."

The Vulcan drew back... and then frowned again as she noticed the remnants of bruises on the exposed skin of the human. "Ensign, have you been the victim of assault?"

Bellator flinched, but otherwise kept at attention, never meeting her eyes. "No, Ma'am. May I please return to my duties, Ma'am? I'm needed."

T'Varik regarded her for a moment longer. "Yes. You are. But not cleaning toilets and floors..."

*

Captain Weynik leaned back in his chair in the Triton's lounge The Locker, cradling his drink as he smirked at his old friend. "So, will they have to put restrictions on all the copies of you to keep them from raiding the galleys on the other ships?"

Hrelle stared out the observation window at the traffic of ships surrounding them, his own drink untouched.

Weynik leaned in, regarding him. "Hey, I'm actually happy for you, Buddy! A little jealous, of course. Or is it envious? What's the difference between the two?"

"Jealousy is Envy, but for something you believe rightly belongs to you. Typically reserved for romantic situations." Hrelle reached for his glass.

"Then what's with the attitude? You don't seem pleased."

"It's a great honour. I'm told." He drank, grimacing a little. "So, I'm... honoured."

"And you look and sound about as enthusiastic as on Day One of a diet."

Now Hrelle looked to his friend. "A hundred years ago they tried to put a sentient computer in charge of a starship. That resulted in the deaths of hundreds of Starfleet officers and crew. If this is going to repeat the M-5 Disaster-"

"It's not gonna be anything like that! The SSH isn't gonna be running the ships, they're just gonna offer advice! And you said it wasn't going to be sentient, either." He turned and looked out at the starships. "Anyway, they'll probably scrap it after I get in there for the war games and kick your hologram's fat photonic ass. Hope that doesn't bother you too much."

"Not as much as you might think."

"Now, onto other things: when am I getting my Second Officer back? You've returned my Engineer and Engineer's Mate, but I need Sasha too."

"She's on shore leave with her friends, in her ship."

Weynik looked to him. "Wait, 'her' ship?"

Hrelle nodded. "Her grandmother sent her a Caitian C'Nus-class runabout, christened the Tailless, for her birthday."

Weynik blinked. "Bloody Hemra, do you think you can get Ma'Sala to adopt me as her grandcub?"

*

Despite her earlier attempt to proverbially smack the young cub Bergstrom down with what she knew about cybernetics and neurology, as she sat with him running through the many scans of her husband's brain to form a stable holomatrix, Kami found herself struggling to keep up. She did have a working knowledge of what he was doing with Esek's recorded engrams -- many of these tools were also used for therapeutic purposes in diagnosing and treating illnesses -- but it took all her training to hide her difficulty at following him.

But as she watched Bergstrom move through each layer of Esek's recorded memories, selecting or deleting sections, she began to notice a pattern. "You're blocking any memories or engrams more recently than... 2360? Why?"

Bergstrom's hands moved over the controls of his engrammatic manipulators like a concert pianist, never looking up from the display before him. "2360 was the period when he met his first wife Harriet Eismann."

"Hannah Eismann," she corrected him, frowning as she accessed her side of the monitors and studied his progress in more detail. "But that still doesn't explain why you're not including any memories past that point?"

"Because that was the point where he went into decline."

Kami's tail began twitching. "'Decline'?"

Bergstrom nodded absently, frowning slightly, presumably at the interruption to his concentration. "My own analysis of strategic and tactical officers, of successful commanding officers in general, confirms that performance and quality inevitably drops when they obtain partners and children."

Kami stared at him, before reaching out, pausing his work.

He drew back, turning to her in confusion. "What are you doing, Counselor?"

She faced him back, crossing her arms. "Care to elaborate on that little analysis of yours?"

"Of course. In my research to find the ideal candidate for the SSH, I developed a Command Decision Effectiveness Index. I found that the Index was at the highest for those officers not burdened and distracted with families. Once partners and children become involved, they can no longer focus fully on their roles, and they invariably see a drop in their performance levels."

She leaned back in her chair, regarding him. "You... actually believe that?"

"Yes. Isn't it obvious?"

She snorted. "No, it isn't! It's a specious argument!"

Bergstrom offered a smirk. "Well, you can hardly be expected to be unbiased in this matter, since I'm also excluding his memories of your marriage to him and the children you've had together. Please bear in mind it's no reflection on you-"

"I don't need to be patronised, Mr Bergstrom. I need you to explain your reasoning."

"It's not just reasoning, it's evidence. Captain Hrelle's behaviour changed following his marriage to Hannah Eismann and his relationship with her daughter Sasha. He logged more time than usual in one location, namely Station Salem One because of his new family-"