Surefoot 58: Upgrade

He clutched the arms of his chair as the Oberth swooped in, firing at the Akira's port nacelle, making the ship shudder. "Evasive Pattern Alpha-3- Belay that! Beta-9! No, wait-"

"Esek," Weynik prompted from Tactical, "Don't second guess yourself!"

Hrelle nodded, baring his teeth. "He'll go for the pylons on the Weapons Pod! I want torpedo burst patterns, don't waste time for focus targeting, just keep him on the move and target with phasers only! Helm, Evasive Pattern Alpha-4!"

The ship lurched again, as a holographic Operations Officer reported, "Damage to Starboard Saucer Section, Deck 3 to 5, Damage Control Procedures commencing!"

On the main viewscreen, the Oberth appeared again, moving away from torpedo bursts, and taking shots from phasers lancing at it, their shields flaring as if in pain. He had to stay focused, focused on the task at hand, not think about the holomatrix mind commanding that little ship that, by rights, he should have disabled and defeated by now. "Helm, Intercept Course, One Quarter Impulse! Get him on the run! Give him no opportunity to keep dancing around like a cub with his tail on fire!"

Weynik chortled. "And keep him focused on our forward section, while we wear him down! I'm getting you a shuris steak dinner when this is done!"

Hrelle barely heard his friend, as he leaned forward as much as his belly would allow, staring hard ahead at the rear of the Oberth as it fled in a straight line at Full Impulse, its aft shields flaring repeatedly from the Akira's continued phaser fire. He had a moment of nostalgia for the Oberth's unique profile, the split hull design of the saucer section containing the habitable sections, Main Engineering, Impulse Engine and nacelles, and the underslung canoe-shaped secondary hull containing the warp core and torpedoes, the two hulls connected by pylons-

Wait... "Why is he staying on Impulse? Why isn't he using his warp drive?"

Before Weynik could respond, he saw explosions on the Oberth's pylons, but not ones caused by phaser fire. Charges as part of Emergency Separation Protocols- "EVASIVE!"

Before anyone could respond, he watched the Oberth's secondary hull break free of the rest of the ship, the momentum sending it -- and the warp core and full complement of photon torpedoes onboard it -- hurtling back in the direction of the Akira-

A blinding white explosion filled the viewscreen, and the Akira. Hrelle felt himself fall backwards, hitting the floor. As he blinked, he found himself with his friend in the midst of the yellow-black grid pattern of a deactivated Holodeck.

He looked to Weynik, who was breathing heavily, his eyestalks wavering as he adjusted following the illumination.

Overhead, Tattok's voice announced, "Gentlemen, the SSH set his warp core and torpedoes on a delayed detonation, and detached his secondary hull. You and your ship were destroyed. No survivors."

Weynik drew up to Hrelle. "I don't believe it. How can a mere program defeat the both of us?"

Hrelle didn't answer. He helped himself back to his feet, feeling very old just now.

*

Hrelle kept silent as he walked through the corridors of the Triton alongside T'Varik. Finally he asked, "Well?"

The Vulcan continued her steady pace. "It was an inventive tactical solution on the SSH's part. And, if I may say so, Sir, a tactic I could perceive you devising and implementing."

"It wasn't one I've ever done before," he noted. "Which suggests the holomatrix is creative, it doesn't just rehash my past victories, it can come up with original ideas."

"To a limited degree," she conceded. "Perhaps."

"Did you see Tattok afterwards? He looked ready to trash me and the rest of the Fleet Captains and install the SSH on all the ships."

"You are exaggerating, Sir. As Commander Bergstrom noted, this is a tool, a weapon."

"No. It's more. For Tattok, it's a lifeline, a desperate chance for him not to have to face so many deaths under his command again. For Bergstrom, it's an opportunity to surpass his former boss Zimmerman in holographic engineering."

"And for you, it's a threat to your self-esteem."

He stopped, facing her as she followed suit. "You really think that?"

"Many humanoids become maudlin when they see images and vivids of themselves when they were younger. They then indulge in bouts of melancholic self-pity as they speak of the days when they lacked grey follicles and didn't ache as much whenever they moved. Perhaps I should replicate you a shawl and a rocking chair for the Bridge?"

Hrelle glared at her for a moment at her apparent attitude, his nose scenting her actual feelings, and replied, "You've become a lot saltier since you got married, did you know that?"

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. "My alkalinity has been a matter of record long before my marriage; you have only to ask my siblings." She paused. "Do you feel less adept in your role now than you were at the approximate age of the hologram?"

He frowned now, more to himself than to her. "Did you see my defeat in there just now?"

"I saw you engaged in an exercise, one which had no personal significance or consequence to you. In contrast, I have seen you faced with real threats, with real significance and consequence to you... and rise to every challenge presented to you. In the past two weeks, you have commanded an overcrowded, damaged ambulance ship. But in that time, you still managed to single-handedly destroy a Cardassian Galor warship, engineer an ingenious means of hiding us when enemy forces were in pursuit, and rescue a group of captive children from a megalomaniac.

I fully dismiss the notion that your age and familial connections make you an inferior tactical expert to a hologram. On the contrary, they provide you with ineffable strength and motivation... and not just for yourself.

Esek... you are an inspiration to your family, and your crew -- which, admittedly in many cases on our ship, is often the same -- and no program can replace that. Or you."

Hrelle took her words in, feeling embarrassed at his bout of self-pity. But before he could respond, a chanting sound caught her attention, and he and T'Varik turned towards the sound: "Flinch... Flinch... Flinch..."

"We're near the Triton's Crew's Quarters, aren't we?" he asked, smelling the stress and intimidation, and moving before his First Officer could respond.

The air was thick with hundreds of scents -- one of the things he never missed about being onboard larger ships -- but he focused on the sounds of a dozen or more young humanoids, all chanting that word. As he turned a corner, he saw the source of the sounds: a double line of junior officers and crewmen, moving in formation behind another, a short, fragile-looking figure with short-cropped purple hair and matching eyes, clutching the strap of a shoulder bag, desperately trying to keep a steady pace and not give in to the temptation to quicken her pace- no, their pace; their scent was non-binary, and T'Varik's reaction of recognition confirmed for him that they were obviously Ensign Bellator.

Hrelle certainly recognised the insult 'Flinch', and a so-called March of Shame: petty, bullying, sanctimonious former midshipmen taking the opportunity to torment someone else they have judged unworthy of respect and regard. Treatment he had been on the receiving end himself.

And in response, he stood in the junction of the corridor and roared down at them.

Bellator and the ensigns started, freezing in place as the senior officers strode up to them, T'Varik demanding in a voice as harsh as any ever heard from a Vulcan, "Who is responsible for this?"

The various ensigns behind Bellator flushed, winced, but remained silent.

"What's wrong?" Hrelle growled, teeth bared, "No courage? None of you have the balls to own up?" He moved among the ensigns, glaring with unblinking bronze eyes at them with naked contempt. "How many of you have seen real combat? How many of you know how you'll really respond? None of you have any right to judge anyone else!"

He pointed a finger at Bellator. "This is my Second Officer! You show them the respect they deserve! IS THAT CLEAR?"

The group drew closer together, as if for an instinctive need for support, all of them remaining silent, their fear thick in the air now.

Then he turned to Bellator, who looked almost as stunned as her tormentors. "Misc Bellator, do you wish to raise a complaint about this?"

The Nova Roman's eyes widened at the offer, and they glanced at the other ensigns before swallowing and replying, "No, Sir. I'm ready to begin my assignment."

"No, Ensign, you're not." He reached up to his uniform collar, removing two of his gold pips, before adding them to the Ensign's pips already on Bellator's own collar. "You require a rank commensurate with your duties. On my authority as Captain of the USS Surefoot, you are promoted with immediate effect to the rank of Lieutenant. Commander T'Varik will complete the necessary admin work." He stepped back, secretly enjoying Bellator's continued reaction -- and the reaction from their tormentors, still witnessing the scene -- as he held out his paw. "Congratulations, Lieutenant Bellator."

Bellator swallowed, their jaw jutting out as they straightened up fully, accepting his paw, emotion welling up in their face. "Thank you, Captain. I won't let you down."

T'Varik turned to the Ensigns. "It is our Second Officer's choice not to raise punitive action against any of you. I, however, will continue to covertly monitor events on this ship. If I learn of any more acts of bullying and harassment to others, I will raise a formal protest to Admiral Tattok, and you will face disciplinary sanctions."

Hrelle looked at them as well. "That is, once you've finished extracting your heads after I shove them up your asses. Dismissed." After a moment, he bared his teeth at them. "That's Starfleet Speak for 'Frick Off'."

They began to disperse. Quickly.

Hrelle turned back to Bellator and T'Varik, smiling and indicating the opposite direction, his anger of seconds before dissipated, and secretly grateful for the distraction from the events of the day with the SSH. "Well, Lieutenant, shall we repair to your new ship? We'll get you billeted into your quarters, show you around, introduce you to Captain Misha-"

Bellator looked up at him. "Captain Misha, Sir?"

Hrelle nodded gravely. "My fearsome rival for control of the Surefoot."

Bellator looked to T'Varik, who added, "It is true. Captain Misha once faced four Jem'Hadar unarmed and survived."

*

Hrelle purred as he held Sreen against him, and the infant purred back, his voice soft. "Make sure that Bellator gets taken care of, that we don't push them too hard, too fast, offer any support necessary, they gave them a rough time-"

"Esek," Kami gently interrupted, sitting at her bureau brushing her fur. "I think I know how to do my job by now, don't you think?" She raised her voice slightly now. "Jhess? Esek's done with Sreen."

Hrelle looked up. "I am?"

The spotted male nanny entered their quarters from his adjoining rooms, smiling as he carefully scooped up the infant. "Come along, My Lady, you have a busy day tomorrow calibrating your first exoframe." He looked to Hrelle. "You know I don't usually intrude on Starfleet business, but are we still planning on returning to Cait for shore leave?"

"Yes, Jhess, we're just finishing up some necessary work here first. Then the whole family will be heading back for extended leave."

The male smiled. "Thanks, Esek! I'm looking forward to getting back in time for the next Hsova Run."

Kami looked at him through her mirror. "And visiting your ex-wife and son, too?"

Jhess stared back, looking ready to offer another light quip... but instead settling for a knowing nod and, "Yes, Kam, I promise I will." He ruined his muzzle against Sreen. "Good night."

"Good night, Jhess." Hrelle watched him depart and slide the door shut, before turning back to his wife and sighed. "Come on, then, let's hear it."

The Counselor set down her brush and rose, moving around him where he sat and worked her paws on his shoulders. "You need to come to terms with the existence of this hologram."

Hrelle rolled his neck, purring at his wife's ministrations. "I have."

"Liar."

He tensed... and then discernibly forced himself to relax a little. "I hate him. I hate being reminded of what I was like at that age. And it's not about age. I was angry. I was arrogant. I didn't know how little I knew. I have no idea what Hannah saw in me at the time."

Kami made a sound. "Maybe you weren't as bad as you think. Or maybe you were beginning to get seasoned by the time you became interested in having a relationship and settling down."

"And yet, the SSH seems pretty effective."

"So does a brick to the head. But I wouldn't recommend it as a medical sedative. Esek, you are twice the man you were back then... and I am not talking about size. You are caring, compassionate, thoughtful, and all of those traits enhance you, not detract from you. Would your younger self have cared about helping someone like Bellator?"

"But what can I do? Tattok loves it. It's done better than the flesh-and-blood Captains, in both comparative and one-on-one exercises."

Kami nodded, pausing before opining, "One of the advantages of being your age and experience is knowing that life can be a lot more complicated than just See Enemy, Shoot Enemy. And that not everyone who uses this hologram will have your age and experience, either."

He glanced up at her, his tail swishing behind him.

And tapping against her shin. She smiled. "Ooh, I've got to you, haven't I?" She leaned in towards his muzzle. "Shall we use some of that energy to-"

He rose to his feet, rushing over to the desk and activating the intercom. "Hrelle to T'Varik."

Kami breathed out. "Or you could go running off to the Other Woman..."

The Vulcan's voice filled the air. "Yes, Captain?"

"I need your help to make some additions to tomorrow's exercises."

C'Rash's voice now joined in, sounding acutely annoyed. "She's busy, Uncle Esek!"

Hrelle smiled. "The holograms haven't taken over just yet, Lieutenant. I'm still in command."

*

The young human Lieutenant in the holographic Captain's chair was one of Tattok's people: dark-skinned, square-jawed, earnest and glistening with perspiration as he took in the ongoing battle. "Helm: Pattern Beta-Three!"

Beside him, the SSH stood, perfectly calm, hands behind his back, taking in the surroundings. "Don't forget your aft phasers. The Jem'Hadar are swarming, keep them separated-"

The Lieutenant nodded, shouting, "Aft Phasers, fire!" The ship shuddered under another attack. "Engineering, we need our shields back to Max!"

"We don't have the power for it, Sir!"

"Divert power from Life Support," HoloHrelle suggested.

The Lieutenant looked up at him. "Life Support?"

The hologram nodded. "You can do it, temporarily." It looked down at him. "The alternative is to get blown up, and not worry about life support at all."

The Lieutenant took it in, nodding back. "Divert power from Life Support!"

In the rear of the Bridge, Hrelle stood with Tattok, Bergstrom and the rest of the observation party watching the third exercise of the morning follow a by-now familiar pattern: the young officer in the centre seat of a virtual Intrepid-class ship, facing a Dominion task force. And this officer, like the previous two, had his individual style of command and experience, but was given more or less the same guidance from the SSH.

Including... HoloHrelle pointed to the screen. "The Jem'Hadar troop carrier! You have a clear line of fire!"

The officer turned to Tactical. "Forward torpedoes, target and fire on the carrier!"

On the holographic viewscreen, cherry-red flares shot forth towards the ugly box-shaped vessel moving away from the remaining Jem'Hadar raiders, ripping into the spaceframe and making the ship blossom with annihilation.

And, like the previous two exercises, this one ended in the same way: with victory for Starfleet, and another smug smirk from Bergstrom. "There you go, Admiral. Maybe we should try a more challenging exercise for the SSH now?"

Hrelle cleared his throat. "I'd like to see this exercise once more, please, with one of my own people." He tapped his combadge. "Commander, Counselor, bring Ensign Dassene in?"

The Holodeck door arch appeared and parted, and as Tattok's Lieutenant departed, he was replaced by T'Varik, Kami and Zir Dassene, the last looking simultaneously eager and nervous. Hrelle smiled reassuringly at her. "Ensign, we've asked you to take part in a tactical exercise: you will be Captain of an Intrepid-class starship engaging with a Jem'Hadar task force. I must stress that this is part of a test of an experimental piece of holographic technology, and not an assessment that will affect your own performance or standing within Starfleet. Is that understood?"

Zir took a moment to glance with bemusement at HoloHrelle, before nodding and responding, "Yes, Sir."

"Then take your seat and prepare." He patted her on the shoulder and let her proceed, before moving back to stand beside his wife and First Officer, feeling expectant, and hoping that the intended outcome doesn't backfire against him.

The exercise began, and he indulged in unabashed pride at how quick and assured Zir adapted to the role, following procedure to the letter, using all the tactics and techniques he and T'Varik had taught her about command, while also listening to the advice of the SSH.

And then the moment came. HoloHrelle pointed to the screen. "The Jem'Hadar troop carrier! You have a clear line of fire!"

Zir nodded, keeping her eyes on it but calling behind her, "Scan the vessel."

The hologram turned to her. "No! Don't waste time! You can't divert power from your shields and weapons!"

"The vessel is moving away, it's not firing on us-"

"That doesn't mean they're not a threat! They're obviously leaving the others to try and finish us off while they proceed to attack one of our nearby colonies."

"The Rules of Engagement-"

The SSH drew closer to her, eyes narrow and tail twitching with fury. "This is War! You are outnumbered, outgunned!" The holographic Bridge rocked under the virtual fire.

Zir turned to Tactical. "Keep firing on the attack ships! Engineering, divert power from the warp drive to shore up our shields!"

HoloHrelle spun the Captain's Chair back to make Zir face him again, as he pointed at the viewscreen. "There are hundreds of Jem'Hadar onboard that ship! They'll make a meal of our people! You have a responsibility to protect them, not to spout off platitudes!" He drew closer, into her face. "DESTROY THEM!"

Still in the rear, Hrelle tensed, ready to race up and protect Zir, until Kami rested a hand on his forearm.

Zir looked up at the hologram, clearly unnerved and intimidated... until she no longer was. She rose to her feet, her voice calm and solid as neutronium. "Starfleet Rules of Engagement for the response of non-combat vessels in battle is clear." She turned to the Ops station. "Scan the troop carrier."

The hologram at Ops obeyed, reporting, "I'm detecting 147 lifesigns: human, Vulcan, Bolian, Trill... no Jem'Hadar, no Vorta, no Cardassians."

"Computer: Freeze Program!" Bergstrom snapped, stepping forward as all the holograms, including the SSH, froze in place. The human looked around. "What's going on? That wasn't part of the exercise I designed!"

"No," Hrelle admitted, stepping forward. "I had Commander T'Varik amend it last night."

Bergstrom turned to him now, outrage clear on his face. "You did this? You sabotaged the program, Hrelle?"

The Caitian drew up to him, calm but taut. "That's Captain Hrelle to you, Commander. And it wasn't sabotage, it was a reminder." He glanced at Tattok. "A reminder that in battle, the unexpected happens, and we must be prepared for it. In this case, we added a backstory: the troop carrier was actually being employed as a Prisoner of War transport ship, but the POWs had used the battle as a distraction to seize control of the vessel and make an escape. All of which would have been revealed at the end of the exercise, had it not been interrupted." He looked to Zir, smiling. "Thank you for your assistance, Ensign. You're free now to commence leave with the rest of Alpha Squad."