Surefoot 58: Upgrade

"He did? What a selfish bastard."

"He wasted more time taking shore leave with them-"

"'Waste'? Captains typically end up taking 30-40% less shore leave than other members of Starfleet... and typically end up with 60-65% more stress-related health issues as a result of it."

"He recorded fewer kills as commanding officer of the Furyk-"

"Oh, I didn't realise you were employing Klingon performance level standards here."

"And then of course there was the incident where he allowed that same ship's crew to be killed and himself to be captured and enslaved-"

She held up a hand to cut him off this time, her expression as taut as a wire. "Mr Bergstrom, do yourself a very big favour: never suggest again that my husband 'allowed' what happened to him and his crew."

Her reaction gave him pause, and he continued, looking more chagrined now. "Yes... well, no disrespect to your husband is intended, I can assure you, Counselor. But you can't deny that his years spent as a prisoner, and his subsequent assignments on non-combat assignments, is very telling."

"His choice of non-combat assignments is no reflection on his combat abilities. We came back with hundreds of survivors in the midst of overwhelming forces because of those abilities."

"Perhaps. But can you really say that the man you married and had children with is the same man as the one who fought the Talarians and Tholians in the Scimitar, and became known as the Lion of the Salem Sector for his achievements in the Furyk?"

"Of course not. None of us are the same as we were decades ago... something you'll hopefully understand yourself, someday, when you actually have some decades under you.

And of course having loved ones will affect how a starship Captain faces enemy forces. But that doesn't mean it has to be a bad thing. Families give you a reason to survive. Families give you empathy. Families give you a reminder of the families of your crew, hoping and praying that you get them home safely."

Bergstrom seemed to study her, seemed to consider her words... but already she could see him dismissing her argument, before he actually vocalised it. "I don't mean to belittle your opinion, Counselor, but I don't see it. My holographic version of your husband will be stripped-down, streamlined, with no distractions, one devoted strictly to fighting the enemy." He smiled. "I intend to make a Beast."

Her eyes sobered. "I really wouldn't do that if I were you, Mr Bergstrom. You might not like what you make..."

*

Hrelle smelled the musk of recent sex on his First Officer, but said nothing about it. It was a facet about living and working among non-Caitians: picking up such olfactoral secrets... and besides, Tattok was also present with his son Weynik, and he wouldn't embarrass his crew -- and family -- in front of a superior officer.

T'Varik stood beside him in the Triton's Holodeck, looking around at the surrounding yellow-black grid as if mesmerised by it. "Sir, I believe I may have found a new Second Officer: Ensign Sextilis Magna Bellator."

He glanced at her. "Wasn't she the one who was court-martialled?"

"'They' is the appropriate pronoun; Misc Bellator is non-binary. And, yes, they were court-martialled and demoted to Ensign, and assigned to the Triton in the Support Crew."

"And what made you choose them over others?"

The Vulcan folded her hands behind her. "Misc Bellator previously held the rank of Lieutenant Commander, is gifted in Communications, Exolinguistics and Cryptography, and until the incident on the Korolev, possessed an unblemished record. I believe they are genuinely regretful over their actions, did not allow any mitigating psychological factors to be taken into account at their court martial, but also refuses to take what would be the easier route and resign... even in the face of what I believe to be physical harassment from other members of the Triton crew."

Hrelle looked to her, his hackles rising. "She- They've been abused?"

"Misc Bellator refuses to admit to it, but I believe otherwise."

His jaw tightened as he looked away again. He knew that with the War ongoing, feelings were high about those perceived to be cowardly. Hrelle knew that it was never as simple as some might perceive -- particularly those who had never actually faced the horrors of combat.

She looked at him. "If you disagree with my decision-"

He shook his head. "I trust you implicitly, Commander. Make it happen; and get the records over to Kami, make sure Misc Bellator gets all the help they deserve."

"Very good, Sir."

"What about our new Chief Engineer?"

"Chief Sakai will arrive tomorrow at 2000 Hours for a tour."

Hrelle offered a little smile. "Having one of the original designers of the Sabre-class out of retirement and onboard will be a treat. Not to mention my not being the oldest crewmember any more." He grunted. "Wish this damn thing would be over and done with."

"You seem less than eager, if I may say so, Sir."

He breathed out. "I'm not happy about the idea of my image being mass-produced, being looked on like some... celebrity. I got that sort of treatment the last time I returned to Cait: everyone at the spaceport looking for my photograph, to take images of themselves with me. I'm just doing my job."

She nodded. "And the SSH will be doing its job; your fellow Captains will hardly be requesting an autograph from it. It has been apparent from the start of our association that you have never sought acclaim for your achievements, so your reticence is understandable."

"It's more than that, though. There'll be a program out there with my face, my voice, making opinions and decisions that I might not necessarily agree with, if it was me in person there."

Before T'Varik could respond, the Holodeck doors opened, and Kami entered, cradling her infant Sreen, and walking beside her older son Misha, clad in his Starfleet Captain's uniform.

Hrelle turned to his family, smiling. "Hey, I wasn't expecting you!"

His wife had an enigmatic scent and expression, though she did her best to conceal it as she drew closer. "We're visiting some of the children on the Triton, and thought we'd pop in."

Hrelle looked down at Misha, holding out his arms for a hug. "Warrior Prince!"

But the six-year-old ignored him, moving up to Tattok instead, standing at attention and nodding. "Admul Tattok, 'mission to come onboard?"

Tattok straightened up equally formally and nodded. "Permission granted, Captain."

Hrelle frowned. "What's that all about? You ignore your Papa?"

Misha approached his father now, shaking his finger at him reprovingly. "Uncle Tattok is Big Boss here! You show him respect!"

"Indeed," Tattok agreed, looking amused. "Unless you wish to argue the point with Captain Misha?"

"Of course not, Sir." Then Hrelle caught the disapproving look and scent of Bergstrom, who stood apart from the others making some final adjustments on a PADD. "You have a problem with my cubs being here, Commander?"

The human blanched. "No, no, of course not. Admiral, we're ready."

Tattok glanced at his son beside him, before responding, "Well? Let's see him."

Bergstrom nodded. "Admiral, Captains, everyone, presenting: the Strategic Support Hologram!"

A figure appeared before them. Clad in a Starfleet uniform with Command Red colours and Captain's pips, he was a Caitian male that strongly resembled Hrelle... or at least, a much younger, slimmer, overly muscular version of him, lacking any grey fur or pot belly... or humour in his bronze eyes. He stood to attention, his bronze eyes sharp with scrutiny as he took in the others around him, displaying to Hrelle an unnerving amount of awareness, or at least the holographic equivalent of it.

"Wow..." Weynik commented first, chuckling. "He's literally half the man you are, Wide Load. Must have saved you gigaquads of data going for the Slimline Version, Commander."

"Is there a reason for the change in appearance, Mr Bergstrom?" Tattok asked.

Bergstrom turned from admiring his creation to facing the Admiral. "Yes, Sir. During my preliminary research I, ah, ran studies of what people's reactions were to Captain Hrelle's current appearance, and the psychological effect it had on them. And, ah, the majority of participants noted that while his felinoid form with its inherent predatory connotations, inspired confidence, his, ah... fuller figure was found to be distracting. Some even questioned why they would trust the advice of someone who couldn't manage to lose weight."

Weynik chuckled... "That's pretty-" Then he sobered. "Actually, that's pretty unreasonable! Would I get a similar treatment because I'm only a metre tall?"

Bergstrom looked to him, flushing. "I, ah, don't know, Captain."

"Yeah, well, I do know, Commander! Our people should be professional enough to not judge by appearances! Isn't that right, Esek?"

Hrelle didn't answer, his hackles raised as he stared at someone he hadn't seen in decades- no, he never looked this Poster Boy good, ever.

"Who's that?" Misha demanded loudly, pointing at HoloHrelle, his tail twitching in suspicion.

Hrelle rested a hand on his son's shoulder. "A hologram of me, who'll help other starships when they're fighting."

Misha growled. "Don't like him. He doesn't smell good."

Hrelle silently agreed with his son, but looked to Kami. "What's wrong?"

Kami continued to stare at the hologram as well, but raised her voice as she asked, "Admiral, you read my objections to Mr Bergstrom's take on the Project's holomatrix?"

"I have, Commander... and I noted you left out the requested assessment of the stability and nature of the SSH. Since you're here now...?"

Kami paused, using the moment to adjust her hold on her sleeping cub. "The SSH appears to be stable. It's an abridged version of Captain Hrelle's memory and personality, knowledgeable about periods of combat but lacking any other appreciable memory."

She tilted her head as she continued to regard HoloHrelle. "This is the approximate persona of Captain Hrelle at half his current age: young, hormonally-driven, motivated by traumas at home and in the Academy to exceed the expectations of others and prove himself."

She looked away, turning to Tattok. "But this is not a well-rounded personality. Commander Bergstrom has taken the most militant, aggressive, violent patches of my husband's life and stitched them together... It's not representative of him."

"It's not meant to be," Bergstrom pointed out. "We don't need every facet of your husband's mind, just the relevant parts."

"'Relevant'? Again, you seem to think that these aspects should not be fully integrated-"

Then the debate stopped as the SSH stepped forward, approaching Kami.

Hrelle looked to him, stepping between him and his family. "Computer: Freeze SSH."

The hologram kept coming.

Misha had stepped around his father, growling, claws bared, but Hrelle grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and swung the cub behind him, extending his own claws. "Weynik, get my family out! Bergstrom! Switch the damn thing off!"

The hologram did stop, but seemingly of its own accord, studying Hrelle... and then proffering his paw. He finally spoke, his voice almost identical to Hrelle's, but in a slightly-higher pitch. "A pleasure to meet you, Captain Hrelle. I hope that my program can do justice to your memories and skills."

Hrelle stared back, not moving.

Bergstrom looked smug as he joined Hrelle and his youthful doppelgänger. "Sorry about frightening you, Captain; there was a glitch in the command subsroutine. But as you can see for yourself, there was nothing to worry about. This is no Frankenstein Monster, no M-5.

This is the Salvation of Starfleet."

*

The Orion raiders appeared on the viewscreen, their tight formation blossoming into five components, firing upon the ship.

Weynik sat in the Captain's chair, staring ahead, only occasionally glancing down at his tactical display. "Helm: Evasive Pattern Alpha. Ops: Maintain shield strength, particularly our aft, Orions like to strike at our weakest points. Tactical: phasers for now, focus on the vessel not firing on us, that'll be the lead Orion, coordinating the attack on us."

From another Holodeck, Hrelle, Tattok, T'Varik and Bergstrom watched the simulation on monitors, simultaneously with the SSH's performance in an identical scenario on a third Holodeck. Bergstrom couldn't wipe the smirk off of his face. "Your son is quite proficient, Admiral."

Hrelle watched him, caught his scent, knowing that the human was barely able to keep from adding, But not as good as my holographic baby.

And it was true: Hrelle looked to the monitors showing the performance of the SSH, who had already destroyed two of the Orion raiders in his scenario, and was now moving onto the rest.

Hrelle focused on HoloHrelle, studied the image, wondering if he really looked and acted like this. He didn't remember with great detail now, a quarter-century or more later. He remembered being driven, so driven to prove himself, to prove his father wrong, to prove to his Academy tormentors that he deserved to be there.

He didn't like looking at himself. Literally. In fact, the only images and vivids he frequented were really ones involving his family, friends and crew... which he acknowledged was a greater mixture with him than other Starfleet Captains.

He stayed apart from the others, but murmured, "T'Varik."

The Vulcan heard and approached. "Captain?"

He nodded to the SSH's screen. "Assessment?"

She glanced back at it. "The initial assessments are promising. This is only the third exercise comparing Captain Weynik's performance against the hologram's, of course, but the SSH appears to be effective and efficient.

"Hmph. It's not meant to be taking over the fight, but offering support to real people."

T'Varik regarded him. "That is the next stage in the tests, Sir. Admiral Tattok has requested I enlist the participation of several of our former cadets and other, less-experienced officers who have not yet left for shore leave."

Hrelle grunted.

Before they could continue, Bergstrom declared, "There we are!"

The others drew closer as they compared the results of the two exercises, Tattok reading aloud, "The Strategic Support Hologram defeated the Orions 18% more quickly than Captain Weynik, utilising 30% less energy resources."

"And another victory for the SSH," Bergstrom crowed.

"That depends on your definition," Hrelle noted, pointing to further details on the scoreboard. "The SSH's virtual ship took damage, and suffered casualties."

Bergstrom leaned in now, frowning momentarily before drawing back again. "Minor damage, no deaths. Well within acceptable parameters as defined by the Starfleet Tactical Analysis Division, Admiral."

"In none of the SSH's scenarios to date, no attempt was made at any stage to warn way the Orions," T'Varik observed. "Or to fire to disable rather than destroy the enemy vessels."

"Why would it?" Bergstrom asked incredulously.

She looked at him. "It is Standard Starfleet Procedure, Commander, for Captains to seek non-lethal options in combat situations."

"The SSH is not a Starfleet Captain. It's a weapon, like a phaser. Weapons are designed to kill."

"Clearly you have not heard of the stun setting on a phaser-"

Tattok held up a hand to end the debate. "Mr Bergstrom, is the SSH capable of conceiving of non-lethal options?"

"No less than Captain Hrelle was at age 25." He looked to the Caitian. "Well, Captain?"

Hrelle stared back, aware of everyone's focus on him. "I wasn't the most merciful combatant at that age."

"And why should you have been? Why should we be now?" Bergstrom turned to Tattok. "Was there any attempt to follow Standard Starfleet Procedure at Khavak, Admiral? Will the Jem'Hadar and Cardassians employ non-lethal options with us?"

The Roylan, as always, remained inscrutable. "Captain Hrelle, I want the Counselor to work on some refinements to the SSH holomatrix... but she has expressed her disagreement with the Project. If she doesn't wish to continue, I'll understand."

"I'll ask her, Sir."

Tattok breathed out. "Refinements notwithstanding, I'm pleased so far with the results, Mr Bergstrom."

The human puffed up a little, before glancing at Hrelle. "Captain, why don't you match wits with the SSH? Rather than face a common opponent, why not fight each other? I think it would be most illuminating to see you face off against a younger, hungrier version of yourself?"

Hrelle was ready to tell him where to shove his offer, when Tattok replied first, "I'd like to see that, too. Link the Holodecks for 1-to-1 combat. Get my son out of there-"

"Actually, Sir, I want him in with me as my First Officer." He looked to T'Varik. "No offence, Commander, but I'd rather have you here to provide me with an objective assessment of the exercise."

She nodded. "Of course, Sir."

*

On entering the Holodeck, Hrelle and Weynik examined the relevant stations, the latter staying at Tactical. "They've given us an Akira-class for this exercise." He grunted. "I've always liked the Akira."

"Reprogram the targeting sequences," Hrelle ordered, adjusting the Engineering subsystems. "I'm programming a sequence to project a stationary warpfield ahead of us."

Weynik chuckled. "Are we gonna give the SSH the Old Okey-doke?"

"I'm hoping to. By the way, thanks for joining in on this, Short Round."

The Roylan moved to join him at the Engineering station. "My pleasure, Wide Load, I'm looking forward to spanking his photonic rear end."

"What's wrong? Don't like it?"

"No; there's nothing I can tease about him. But aren't you worried that having your memories, that he'll anticipate what we're doing?"

"You and I came up with a few tricks together after I got married to Hannah, remember?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So, the SSH won't know it. Kami told me Bergstrom only loaded up my memories prior to my meeting Hannah and Sasha and Kami. He thinks I went downhill from there because I became a husband and father."

Weynik stopped his adjustments and looked up at his friend in disbelief. "Then... I look forward to spanking Bergstrom's rear as well."

Overhead, the intercom chimed, but with Tattok's voice. "The exercise is about to begin, Gentlemen."

"Acknowledged, Admiral." He patted Weynik. "Thanks, again. Shall we conjure up a high chair for you?"

"No thanks. Shall we conjure up an extra-wide Captain's Chair for you?"

"No thanks." But he smiled, for the first time since he heard about this damned project.

Around them, generic holographic crewmembers appeared standing or sitting at the various stations, as the Red Alert klaxon sounded, and the First Officer announced, "Enemy vessel dead ahead, coming in at Warp 3!"

"Helm, Full Stop! Tactical, arm phasers and photon torpedoes! Weynik, give him the Old Okey-doke!

"You got it, Boss Cat!"

Hrelle looked up at the viewscreen, the computer providing a visual representation of the warpfield directed outwards through the nacelles into the space ahead of them, warping the local spatial and subspatial continuum and disrupting any incoming vessels.

Like the one that now appeared: a small ship, with a distinctive profile that Hrelle recognised instantly, having commanded one himself. "They gave the SSH an Oberth?"

Weynik made a derisive sound. "Seriously? An Oberth against an Akira? That's like sending a mouse against a lion! This is gonna be too easy!"

Hrelle felt his tail twitch through the hole in the back of his chair, not feeling as confident as he watched the Oberth drop into full impulse and begin manoeuvres, needing to figure out what he would do in such a situation. The answer was obvious: in any fight, you have no control over how big or well-armed you are, but you do control how ferocious you can be. "Don't get cocky, he's faster and more manoeuvrable than- PORT PHASERS! FIRE!"