Surefoot 59: The Burning World

Then all eyes turned at the arrival of the three young officers in the centre of the chaos. Some drew weapons.

Jonas held up an open palm to them, shouting, "DON'T FIRE! WE'RE STARFLEET!"

There was a tense, frozen heartbeat of time, before weapons lowered again as the uniforms were recognised, and a large, older, pepper-haired human woman in a plain business suit approached, wrinkled face creases further with anxiety. "I'm Governor Macdonald. What's going on up there? Have you stopped the Dominion? Why have they attacked us?"

Jonas met the older woman's emotion with composure. "I'm Lt Ostrow, this is Ensigns Dassene and Boone, part of the... task force sent to deal with the Dominion. We believe they're testing a new doomsday weapon on your planet. Our vessel is currently engaging with the forces in orbit, we're here to ensure the safety of the population until then." He nodded to the huge vessels. "Are those empty? Can they take in the survivors now arriving?"

"We can't take off! The first few ships we sent up to escape the Dominion were shot down!"

He nodded. "They don't need to take off, just provide temporary shelter for your people."

Macdonald's expression took on a suspicious, angry mien. "Why? Why do they need shelter? Aren't you going to stop them up there?"

"We're going to do everything we can, Governor..." He lowered his voice slightly. "But there has been so much damage done already to Gault. Even if further combustion is halted, the atmosphere of the planet has been tainted, and it'd be safer to keep people in a controlled environment until we assess the extent of the damage."

Macdonald stuck out her chin. "I want to speak to your Captain."

"She's busy, risking her life and the lives of everyone else up there to stop the enemy. I'm here to assist your people in preparing those vessels to become shelters... and under Article 12 of the Federation Charter, as the senior representative of Starfleet present, I am assuming authority here during this crisis." He paused, clarifying in a confidential whisper, "But I'd much rather leave you at the front of it. These are your people, they know and respect you, and are more willing to comply with your orders than a stranger's."

Macdonald regarded him, before turning to her right. "Markham! Lieutenant Ostrow will need to see the operational schematics of those Carriers! We're making shelters out of them for the time being! Follow the Lieutenant's lead!"

Ostrow nodded and followed the other woman, as Zir and Peter approached now, the latter announcing, "Governor, I'm from Gault, originally, the Uzkayareka Commune in the Gora Basin."

The older woman nodded. "I know it. Are you asking about survivors from there?"

He nodded. "My daughter Abby Boone, and her mother, Claire Hastings. We detected my daughter's transponder on the move to the Spaceport."

She motioned for them to follow to one station. "Pirelli, you reported the flyers from Gora were on approach before our guests arrived. Check the received manifests for the young man's family."

The balding man with a headset wrapped around his head sat at the station nodded without looking up. "They're both on the next flyer, it's about to land at Pad 14- wait-" He pressed a control on his headset. "Flyer, you're coming in too fast, your angle- PULL UP!"

Lights from the window caught everyone's attention, as a flyer dropped, not with the grace of the others around it, but looking more like it had been shot at in mid-air.

It struck the landing pad. And rolled over, again and again, the wings ripping into pieces and flames spitting everywhere...

*

Eydiir had her phaser drawn as she beamed over with the two junior officers, her eyes and arm sweeping in every direction, passing her weapon over Tori and Stalac, listening, her Capellan fighting instincts taking over. Then she nodded to Tori, speaking quietly. "Find a suitable station."

The young human raised her tricorder, nodding down one corridor -- but then stopping, whispering. "There are lifeforms near, but I can't pinpoint them."

Eydiir nodded, stepping forward, weapon arm raised again, other hand near her kligat, the crescent-shaped throwing blade favoured by her tribe back home. She would protect these people. She would help save a world. If she died, so be it-

She paused, glancing around a corner at an open lab area, where she saw one of the Dominion's dogsbodies, a Vorta male, standing in a vertical chamber, with some sort of device lowered over the upper half of his head, as he groused, "This is intolerable. I should be monitoring the progress of the Conflagrators-"

"Do not move, Vorta," a gruff voice from someone unseen replied. "You are disrupting the engrammatic recording."

Eydiir watched the Vorta stiffen as much as possible, before muttering, "This could have waited. The Founders would understand-"

"Do not speak, either."

Eydiir frowned as she studied the equipment, confirming it was some sort of device recording the memories of the Vorta. Why? Was it some sort of security measure? He might have been a valuable lackey to the Dominion.

And therefore, his death would serve the Federation.

She raised her phaser, adjusting the setting to Kill, and aimed at the Vorta.

And hesitated,

It made sense, to kill him.

And still she hesitated.

A lifetime ago, she would have finished him off without hesitation. Any of her people would have. And if the Vorta was attacking her now, or one of her people or an innocent, then there would be no time for thought.

But he wasn't. And she was no assassin.

Then a high-pitched, grating sound filled the air: some sort of alarm.

Jem'Hadar stepped into view, alerted. They saw Eydiir, and reached for disruptors at their hips.

Eydiir fired first, taking down one, then another.

She raced forward into the lab, focused on the Vorta under the recorder- he glanced to his right, Eydiir's left-

She turned and fired blindly, ducking as a disruptor bolt almost struck her, before she raced up to the shocked-looking Vorta, pulling him out from under the headpiece and holding onto him from behind, a phaser at the Vorta's head as she shouted over the klaxon, "Drop your weapon, or I'll kill him!"

The Jem'Hadar kept still, disruptor raised.

Closer to Eydiir, the Vorta made a sound, and offered, "An ill-judged tactic, Starfleet. I've just had my most recent memories copied, and a replacement clone awaits to receive them. There is no real reason to protect me, except to complete the current tests."

Eydiir tensed, ready to aim the phaser at the Jem'Hadar-

Until she saw the wall behind the Jem'Hadar smoke, smoulder wildly, before vanishing, as Stalac emerged, the Jem'Hadar turning and trying to fire, before falling backwards, the Horta slithering over him, still pumping acid.

Acrid fumes filled the air, making the Vorta cough, as Tori appeared at the doorway.

Eydiir froze, staring with naked concern now -- not for her own safety at the actions of the Horta, but the reaction this would engender in him, knowing that Stalac had undergone tremendous guilt the last time he had killed in this manner, on the Surefoot. That he would do this now-

"Fascinating," the Vorta noted. "Did you genetically engineer this creature for combat-"

He stopped as Eydiir pressed the tip of the phaser to his head. "Shut up. Ensign Stalac... are you okay?"

Stalac sat there, silent but for the rapid pulsing of his body as he recovered from his exertion... and his actions. Then the voder on his combadge provided a reply, "I will be fine, Lieutenant. I- I hope I did the right thing, under the circumstances-"

"A molecular acid," the Vorta continued, observing the remains of the Jem'Hadar and the floor around it. "Possibly of the hydrosulfuric variety, quickly oxidising and rendered neutral. Are you silicon-based, Ensign-"

His question punctuated with a yelp, as Eydiir tightened her hold on him. "I told you to shut up. Ensign Emoto, keep an eye on the corridor." As the young woman complied, Eydiir made the Vorta face her, and she shoved the tip of the phaser into his chest. "Who are you?"

"My name is Vonbran. I am in command of this project."

"So you know how to shut it down?"

He frowned. "Why would I want to do that? I haven't finished my experiment-"

"It's finished!" Stalac declared, rumbling towards him. "People have died because of your damned experiment!"

Vonbran backed away from Stalac, until Eydiir stopped him. Then he turned to her. "Lieutenant, I will expedite your efforts to end the Conflagration process, if you agree to take me with you. You'll accomplish your goals much more quickly with my aid!"

"You'd betray your own people, you little prick?" Tori demanded in disgust. "Why?"

Eydiir raised the phaser to under his chin. "A good question. I was led to believe the Vorta were bred to be infallibly loyal bootlickers."

He smirked at her description. "To a general degree that is true. But the Vonbran lineage is focused on scientific endeavours, which I have found can override the genetic conditioning. I am equally willing to pursue my research under the Dominion... or the Federation." He nodded to a burning section of the lab. "And as a stray weapons bolt has destroyed my clone, I have become immensely valuable to you."

"We should take action soon, Lieutenant," Stalac reminded her.

Eydiir agreed; their friends would be busy with far more resistance than has been met here.

*

Sasha had her own weapon drawn as she beamed into existence alongside Neraxis and Urad, in a central intersection of the ship. And a good thing, too, as they materialised just as a nearby door slid open, and a Jem'Hadar appeared. He forwent the weapon at his side to charge at Sasha.

She shot point blank into his gut, the plasma beam cutting through his midsection, separating the two halves of him and sending them in opposite direction.

Yuck.

She moved over the cleaved body to the still-open door, checked inside to ensure no one else was in here, and took a defensive position, as more Jem'Hadar appeared from one direction, and then another, firing disruptor bolts, Neraxis and Urad joining her, the huge weaponless Hroch stepping fully into the room. "Comrade Lieutenant Hrelle-"

"Not yet," she replied, reaching for a plasma grenade, checking on Neraxis, who stood beside her, firing at the Jem'Hadar racing in from the other direction, and a high-pitched alarm began sounding. "So much for the element of surprise."

Neraxis dropped to one knee beside the Jem'Hadar corpse, still firing as she grew accustomed to the cycling rate of the plasma rifle. "You sure as frick surprised this bastard."

With one hand Sasha activated the grenade. "And now he's half the man he used to be. GRENADE!" She arced the grenade high in the direction of the Jem'Hadar she was firing at, before leaning back behind the doorway, Neraxis and Urad following.

A hot wave of plasma energy, and a deafening sound, travelled up both ends of the corridor, making Sasha's ears pop and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Thank you, Grandma, for your thoughtful collection of kick-ass weapons. Her head still ringing, she shouted, "Mr Kaldron... it's Pummelling Time!"

Urad punched his open palm and charged out the door. "SCOUNDRELS! MEET YOUR GODS!"

Sasha and Neraxis glanced at each other, Neraxis declaring, "That boy needs to get laid. I don't suppose you-"

"No." They rose to charge out in the opposite direction, hoping everyone else was okay.

*

Zir and Peter clung to the handrails and footrails on the rear of the firefighter truck as it raced out of the Operations Centre tower and towards the crash site, other vehicles and pedestrians racing in the general direction. Zir peered around the side of the truck, her hair flowing behind her, looking at the fires spread out among the debris. She didn't see any bodies. Please, please let no one be hurt, or worse, inside...

Peter was stiff, unmoving, as if trying to force his strength through his limbs into the truck to make it move faster. He nearly fell over as he jumped off the truck before it had stopped, racing towards the main body of the crashed flyer, which had ended right side up at least, if battered and ripped open towards the aft section. Zir and several of the firefighters raced up as well, Peter grasping the manual emergency release control on the side hatch, dropping to a crouch to enter when the gull-wing door was only still halfway up.

Zir dodged around the firefighters applying suppressant foam to the burning debris as she followed her squadmate inside, coughing at the smell of acrid smoke in the compartment. There were rows of passenger seats along the length of the flyer, and people, harnessed and belted, were in various states of injury, the less-injured unbuckling themselves and either evacuating or helping the more injured.

Her instincts to assist took over, but before she began administering aid, she glanced down the aisle between the seats... and saw Peter on one knee, tightly holding a crying blonde child, his hand on the back of her head, reassuring her, even as tears stained his own face. Beside them, a slim, dark-haired human woman, obviously the child's mother, unbuckled herself and rose to join them.

Zir thanked the Fates for their safety, and didn't want to interrup... but also knew that there were many injured here. "Peter! We're needed!" After a moment, she added, "Get them to safety, then get back to assist!"

*

Giles appreciated the flight harness belts on the cockpit seats of Sasha's ship, and its high manoeuvrability and other gimmicks not found in a Starfleet runabout.

Whether or not that will save them from the six Jem'Hadar trying to lock in on them and fire was open to debate. "Keep watch-"

"I'm keeping watch, damn it!" Astrid responded sharply, her hands moving over the Prowl controls, altering the cloaking frequencies to counter the measures taken by the enemy ships.

Giles didn't take offence at her response; for all her obvious talent, she was still inexperienced, and this was probably her first time in battle in a small ship. Never taking his eyes off the screens of the cockpit windows, he asked, "Hey Kit, anything to tell us?"

Behind them, Kit clung to the edges of his station, his breathing as rapid as the combat moves they had to make. "It- there is no appreciable change as yet to the combustion on Gault - I've detected weapons fire on the Dominion ship-"

"No messages from Sasha or the others?"

Kit didn't answer. Which was his answer.

Giles checked the chronometer. Another fifteen minutes, and with no response, he had to stop this.

He changed course. "Ready a microtorpedo." Just ahead, one of the Jem'Hadar Scarabs was banking around, unaware of their approach. "On my mark, decloak. Kit, make sure the energy allocation doesn't drop too much, we'll have to recloak and bank away."

"We're going on the offensive, Lieutenant?" Astrid asked.

"Looks that way." He kept his eyes fixed on the impulse engines on the Scarab. "If we're gonna die in a quarter-hour, let's see about taking as many of them with us as possible." He keyed in the firing controls, dropped the Prowl and launched the microtorpedo, before banking away, recloaking again.

"It worked, Best Friend Giles!" Kit exclaimed. "The warhead, that close to their exhaust-"

"-Is probably an unrepeatable trick," Giles opined, seeing the other Scarabs move in on their last location. "Let's see if I can come up with something else. As Papa Cat used to tell me: 'There are more ways than you'll expect'-"

"'To kick your opponent's ass'," Kit and Astrid finished in unison.

*

Sasha noted the low power levels on her blaster, reminding herself once more why swords and blades were still so prevalent in so many technologically-advanced cultures. Then, hearing Urad's bellows just around the corner, she grasped the hilt of her blade and drew the narrow black blade out, bracing herself for anything-

But still not expecting to see the mammoth Hroch Security officer staggering and swinging about, arms extended, as six Jem'Hadar clung to him like leeches, trying to pierce his blubbery flesh with their weapons, while three more Jem'Hadar were attempting to climb over their fellows to get to Urad's head, which was more vulnerable to their blades.

Frick me, it was like a pack of jackals trying to bring down a hippo... She launched herself at them, the three Jem'Hadar turning to face her in time for the first one to lose his head, sending it arcing up and bouncing almost comically away, the decapitated body spurting ugly red-black blood from its stump.

Sasha dove and parried as the second Jem'Hadar attempted to stab her, and she countered by taking off his arm at the elbow, the monomolecular thinness of her sword's blade slicing through flesh and bone like water. To his credit, he still tried to ignore his massive trauma to attack her with his remaining arm, even as the third Jem'Hadar was reaching for his disruptor.

Sasha raised both arms up to tackle them, realising too late that she might have made a mistake-

The sound of a plasma bolt filled the air, as the top of the third Jem'Hadar boiled and splattered, burning the right side of Sasha's scalp and sending shards of pain through her skull. She cursed and fought down the pain as she twisted to get her sword back up to finish off the second one, even as Neraxis moved on to the ones fighting Urad, shooting them in the back, one after the other, giving Urad the chance to reach up and begin grasping the remaining ones, ripping them off his limbs and breaking them as he roared.

Sasha killed the second one, helping herself back to her feet as she helped kill the rest of them and assessed the situation, asking through gritted teeth, "Ensign Kaldron?"

He turned to her, reaching up to touch blood-stained patches on his jacket and collar. He gasped, breathing heavily, his eyes glazed in shock. "They- They tried to stab me in the throat-"

Neraxis drew up to him. "Holy Hraxor, they did cut you, near your collarbone-"

"Grab their disruptors," Sasha ordered, hearing heavy footfalls rapidly approaching. "Mr Kaldron, if you want to stay back for now-"

But the younger officer picked up a long piece of twisted metal, debris from the phaser grenade earlier, gripping it like a spear. "I do not, Comrade Lieutenant."

She nodded at that, and then gestured down another corridor with one of the retrieved disruptors. "Then let's move, keep them away from the aft!"

*

The Vorta sat down at what appeared to be a master console, his hands moving over the keyboards- until Eydiir pressed the tip of her phaser against the side of his temple. "If there is any sign of treachery, I will put a hole in your head a shuttle can fly through."

Vonbran made an amused sound. "Understood, Lieutenant." He nodded up at the multiple displays of Gault. "Perhaps instead of suspicion, you could offer some appreciation of my genius? The Conflagrator warheads I designed require very little in the way of resources, but have the potential to cauterise the surface of an entire planet in a matter of hours."

Beside him, Tori was on one knee, setting up an interface to his console with Stalac's tricorder, mounted to his side. "Do you know how many innocent people are down there, prick?"

He nodded. "Of course, an accurate number is necessary for the report." He glanced down at her. "I have no personal malice towards them, young lady, or indeed anyone. My scientific pursuits are bereft of politics."

"You might pursue science without politics," Eydiir informed him acidly. "But not without conscience."