Surefoot 66: By Fire and Water

The Constable nodded, motioning to his comrades, while Ashen led the others away.

"That was impressive," Biggles noted. "I didn't know the Kaetini had jurisdiction here."

Sasha checked her remote, deliberately avoiding the stare she was getting from Jhess. "The Kaetini have jurisdiction wherever the Kaetini find themselves to be. We still have to find Dad and Sreen."

"They're on a fishing boat on the Free Seas," Ashen informed her. "The Highsun. The Caitian Maritime Database will have its transponder frequency. I'll take you to a place to access it."

"No need," Sasha responded. "My ship's now on its way, ETA two minutes, we'll beam up and get the frequency on the way. Thank you for your help; I hope I haven't made things worse here for your people."

The older male stopped, turned and grunted. "Things will get worse, for everyone, before they get better. Let's just make sure the worst falls upon the Enemy." He held out his paw.

Sasha accepted it.

* * * * *

Kami controlled herself as best she could as she rushed into the Command Bay, her son trailing behind her despite her telling him to return to the school; she was too galvanised to order him out, even if it was bad news. "Report."

Lt Cmdr Tshal turned to her, his scent and expression. "Agent Nenjo has just reported a successful implant of the S'Li Algorithms, and they're already on their way back now."

"Successful? Is she certain?"

"Certain enough to have broken radio silence and contacted us."

Kami made a sound; if the other female was wrong... then it's too late now, and they were all dead. "Try and contact Captain Hrelle's communicator, and Lt Hrelle's ship. Stay cautious; monitor for any signs that the Enemy is detecting the signals."

As Tshal moved to the others to comply, Kami heard and smelled Misha draw up. "You call Papa and Baby Sreen?"

She straightened up, keeping an eye on the personnel, reading their body language and scents. "Great Mother willing, yes."

He reached up and took her paw in his, squeezing. "Papa tough, like Sasha and you."

Now she looked down at him, smiling with uncommon but welcome lightness. "Oh? Am I as tough as Papa and Sasha? But I'm not a Kaetini. I don't have a sword."

He scowled. "You no need a sword to be tough. Mama is tough. Grandmama was tough, too."

Her smile broadened... Yes, she was... then Tshal returned to her, smiling. "We can't reach Captain Hrelle's communicator, but the Tailless has just reported in! They've just left Sekuro for the Free Seas! Captain Hrelle and your daughter escaped on a fishing boat the day before! They're homing in now on it-"

He stopped as Lt Mori drew up now, not looking as positive. "There's increased Enemy communications traffic from around Sekuro and the Free Seas; they must have worked out that the Captain is on one of the Free Fleet's boats! The Jem'Hadar are searching them now!"

* * * * *

"Papa," Sreen breathed out.

Hrelle made a soft, shushing sound as he woke and held her close. It was just after dawn, before he was meant to awaken and start his shift, but now he stood in one of the Highsun's narrow corridors belowdeck, aware that the boat had now stopped... or been stopped. He heard unfamiliar voices on the topdeck.

Neshama dropped down from an aft hatch, her scent and expression telling Hrelle what her words confirmed. "Jem'Hadar ships surrounding us, demanding to search."

His heart sank. Damn. Damn, damn... "Take Sreen."

"What?"

He drew up to the female, holding out his infant. "Take her. I'll turn myself over to them."

"Seven Hells- No!"

"Yes. They only want me, and they can identify me from among the crew. If they have to come look for me, then it's more likely that they'll kill you all and sink the ship. If I surrender to them now, you'll all have a chance." He practically forced Sreen into Neshama's arms. "I promised I wouldn't get any of you into unnecessary risk."

"You also said this was everyone's fight!"

He nodded. "I did. But this isn't a fight you can win."

"Papa!" Sreen echoed demandingly, reaching out for him, grasping. "Papa hoad! Now!"

He stared into those beautiful bronze eyes for the last time... oh my Warrior Princess... He looked to Neshama again. "Swear to me you'll get her back to her mother safely."

Neshama was breathing heavily now, emotions vying for dominance in her. "You- You can't just-"

He checked his phaser and sword and turned while he still had the nerve.

"PAPA!" Sreen called after him, mewling.

He ascended a ladder to the flush deck, blinking in the light of morning, joining some of the crew standing up there, looking down on the open midsection as half a dozen Jem'Hadar stood on deck, weapons raised, while Captain Sallah stood facing one of them, shouting, "I don't know what you're blathering about, you bloody sea serpent! There's no 'Captain Hrelle' onboard!" He thumbed his own chest. "I'm the only Captain on the Highsun! Now bugger off and leave us in peace!"

Hrelle stared down, impressed by the male's chutzpah... but, looking at the Jem'Hadar attack ship hovering over the ocean on the Highsun's starboard side, ready to blow her out of the water, Hrelle also knew how this would end, if he didn't act now.

"Order all your crew uptop," the Jem'Hadar demanded Sallah. "Or we will destroy you."

Sallah bared his teeth. "You don't command me, dog!"

"Sallah, no!" Hrelle called out from the flush deck, claiming everyone's attention -- including the Jem'Hadar, some of whom immediately recognising him and raising their weapons. In response, he raised his paws in surrender as he addressed them. "Who is First among you?"

One of them, the one who had been speaking with Sallah, stepped forward, displaying his courage by not wielding a weapon. "I am First Galan'itan. You are Captain Hrelle."

"Yes. I am surrendering to you without opposition. These are unarmed civilians I tricked into letting me board their vessel to escape. There is no need, no honour, in harming them."

Galan'itan peered at him, before motioning for him to descend the steps.

One of the crew -- Gershom -- yelled and threw a large wrench at the First.

"No! " Hrelle started to shout.

Galan'itan knocked the wrench from the air, drew his pistol and fired, striking the young Second Mate in the chest and sending him hurling backwards into a pile of mooring ropes.

Sallah roared, picked up a large net hook and drove it into the Jem'Hadar's neck from behind, sending ugly red blood spurting.

Hrelle drew his phaser even as the other Jem'Hadar moved to react to the attack on their First, firing at more of the crew -- but Hrelle fired upwards, at the ropes holding the huge main sail overhead, the arrangement collapsing quickly onto the main deck, over most of the Jem'Hadar.

Sallah brought the hook down on Galan'itan, again and again, looking as shocked by the bloody mess he was making, as about the fact that he was making it, before looking up, picking up the Jem'Hadar's fallen weapon and roaring, "BRING 'EM DOWN, BUCKOES!"

The crew drew knives, picked up tools and makeshift clubs and charged towards the mass of sails, as the Jem'Hadar struggled underneath to free themselves.

"NO!" Hrelle called out again, ignored. Seven Hells, what were they thinking? They couldn't win this! They were all going to be killed!

As if in illustration, a disruptor bolt blindly burst through the thick oatmeal-coloured canvas of the mainsail, shooting upwards even as it set the material on fire. Another followed, but the Jem'Hadar beneath were firing wildly in their efforts to strike back and make an escape from underneath.

The crew of the Highsun attacked en masse, striking and stabbing at the Jem'Hadar trapped beneath.

Hrelle looked across either side of the ship, to see the Jem'Hadar attack ship still hovering over the waters on either side, almost certainly about to send-

Reinforcements beamed onto the fore and flush decks, three of the Jem'Hadar appearing at Hrelle's right, tackling him together-

But misjudging the force of their attack, as all four of them burst through the rail and plunged into the cool blue waters of the Free Seas.

* * * * *

After locating the Highsun's frequency and setting an intercept course, Sasha took the moment to go get washed and changed and clean her sword, trusting in her comrades to keep an eye in the cockpit-

She started at the knock on her cabin door, and went taut as she rose and answered. "What's wrong, Jhess?"

The spotted male leaned in the doorway, his back to the cockpit, his arms crossed and his voice low. "Nothing. Just checking on you, to see how you're doing."

She blinked. "Fine." She turned to slip back into her Starfleet uniform.

"You sure? If you wanted to talk about what happened back in Sekuro..."

She grunted. "Didn't know you'd hung up your shingle when we boarded."

"'Shingle'?"

She sat on the edge of her bunk and reached for her boots. "Am I speaking with Dr Furore, Cub Psychologist, right now?"

"Let's try Jhess Furore, your friend... with my Psychologist's Cap ready for wear, if needed. How are you doing after your ordeal?"

She shrugged. "Hardly an ordeal. I got captured, drugged, woke up to find some greedy kussik trying to sell me off, I broke free, took care of business, and the rest you know."

"You killed. More than once."

She nodded at that, standing up now and reaching for her replacement phaser. "That seems to be what Taking Care of Business means these days. Don't make it out to be anything special."

"Sash..."

She looked at him directly now once more. "Jhess... look, you were right about my taking the stimulants. It was stupid. It left me vulnerable to getting captured. I'm lucky I was caught by a traitor instead of the Enemy. I won't do it again.

But if you're looking for me to feel traumatised by killing... sorry, but No. They were mostly just Ferasans, and as I told you once before on the Island, the only good Ferasan is a dead one. And I made an example of a criminal Caitian who thought of his own greed over the safety and security of the Motherworld and Her people."

"I understand, Sash -- I'm no stranger to killing either, I was doing it before you ever put on that uniform -- but that only means I know that it leaves a wound in you, one you can't just pretend isn't there. It just gets infected, it festers-"

She frowned at him now, his refusal to just let this drop annoying her now. "When the Ferasans and the Jem'Hadar are all on a burning funeral pyre, then I'll take time to heal, okay?"

"Red Alert!" Biggles called from forward, before Jhess could respond. "We have Jem'Hadar-vessels surrounding the Highsun! Dead ahead, ETA two minutes!"

Sasha pushed past Jhess to take the co-pilot's seat. "Get ready to drop our Prowl cloak, I'm arming microtorpedoes. Jhess, contact the Island, update them on our status... unless you want me to stop where we are so I can go for Counseling?"

Jhess took the Communications station seat. "Focus on the task, Lieutenant."

* * * * *

Hrelle lost his grip on his phaser, but retained the nous to take a deep breath before he hit the water, twisting his body in an attempt to free himself from their grasp.

But his sword, still strapped to his side, weighed him down, along with his own bulk, and the weight of at least two of the Jem'Hadar still gripping him, still trying to kill him, possibly even at the cost of their own lives. His lungs and muscles ached.

Mother's Cubs... Kami, I'm sorry... I'm-

From the corner of his right eye, something caught his attention: several large, fast, streamlined objects, undulating furiously as they swam through the water, firing red phaser beams from their sides, striking two of the Jem'Hadar and sending them floating away, stunned and most likely condemned to drown.

The fastest of the approaching objects pointed its long beak-like protuberance... and a sharp sonic pulse emitted from it, making Hrelle's ears and teeth ache, but driving the last Jem'Hadar fighting him into unconsciousness and sending him descending into the darkness of the sea.

Before Hrelle could fight to swim to the surface, his dark blue-grey saviours surrounded him, pushing him up easily towards the surface. Absently, Hrelle saw they wore frictionless harnesses with phaser, communicator and tricorder attachments in various places... and brandishing Starfleet insignias.

Before he could take anything further in, he broke the surface, greedily gulping in huge hearty lungfuls of fresh salty air, even as he continued to hold onto one of his saviours, as another broke the surface of the water as well and cackled at him. "Hello again, Big Boy! Still pissing in the water, I see!"

Helle gasped, eyes wide in utter shock as he looked at the beady black eyes and the elongated mouth seemingly fixed in a permanent grin of mischief. "D-Doctor Wheelie?"

Doctor Hwii''!!''li'!'iei, Chief Counselor of the Starfleet science vessel Kanaloa, struck the water with his snout. "Yep! Big as life and twice and sexy!" He turned and chattered to his fellow Delphines, who dove under the water.

"Wha- What are you doing on Cait?"

"We were on shore leave here," he explained. "I told everyone about the Caitian sleekfish you brought me at our last Counseling session, and thought we'd go get more. Then the Ferasans and Jem'Hadar showed up, our ship left the system at short notice to save itself. We were stuck here with our aquashuttle, hiding underwater, keeping radio silence."

Hrelle gasped. "You mean, all these weeks you've been out here on your own?"

"At first, yes. Then we found friends."

"Friends?"

Before he could ask further, Jem'Hadar on the Highsun began firing in the water. Wheelie and his Delphine companions turned, dove and then leapt out of the water, one after the other, aiming their harness phasers and taking out the soldiers on the deck with surprising accuracy.

But Hrelle turned in the water to face the nearest attack ship. "No! The ship! Focus on -"

Something incredibly fast -- a missile -- struck the attack ship, ripping it into pieces, Hrelle ducking under the water to escape the flying debris and flames.

He emerged to see the wreckage of the Jem'Hadar ship sink in smoke and fire... as other aircraft appeared, slowing down and hovering where the Jem'Hadar attack ship had been seconds before: grey, armoured and angled, bullet-shaped with weapons pods and short wings and airfoils... and with Caitian Militia markings on the sides identifying them as Thunderbolt helijets.

Hrelle gasped again. "It's- It's not possible- the Militia were all destroyed-"

Wheelie returned, cackling again. "I told you we found friends. Look west, Big Boy. Look West."

He did. The Western Horizon was dark, misty from the receding fog of the night before...

But from the tenebrous fog emerged something huge: an armoured vessel as big as a Sovereign-class starship, moving just above the water, coming into view courtesy of the lifting of both the fog and some sort of cloaking device, with more Thunderbolts launching from bays on its sides and bringing up the front.

Hrelle bobbed in the water, eyes wide. "What in the Seven Hells..."

"Pretty cool, huh?" Wheelie remarked. "Her Captain calls her the Deep Keep..."

* * * * *

Sasha rechecked the tactical display a fifth time: there was the Highsun, there were two Jem'Hadar attack ships surrounding it, and several more on their way. "Drop the Prowl, Captain Biggles, now."

"What? We're not there yet!"

"We have to lure the Enemy away from the Highsun." She opened a channel. "Attention, Jem'Hadar: this is Lieutenant Sasha Hrelle of Starfleet. You're a pack of spineless dogs' arseholes, and your so-called gods are nothing but blobs of diseased crotch pus who'd be better off being protected by Ferengi than the likes of you. When you've stopped pissing yourselves in fear over the sound of my voice, you know where to find me." She closed the channel. "Okay, Captain, you'll stay busy keeping them off our tails, while I fight them."

Biggles breathed in, apparently stunned by her display, before resuming his work. "I'm reading two Jem'Hadar attack ships closing in from upper orbit."

"But not the one at the Highsun. Keep on our course towards it... and be ready to throw up the Prowl again."

"So you don't have a death wish," Jhess noted from behind her.

She spared a half-glance back at him. "I do -- but only for the Enemy."

"Three attack ships closing in now," Biggles reported, his voice tense as his fingers moved quickly over the controls. "Moving fast- wait, one's disappeared."

She saw it, picking up sensor readings. "Did it just... explode?"

"Some accident onboard?" Jhess suggested.

Before she could answer, she reported, "A second one, gone! What the-"

"There!" Biggles nodded ahead.

She saw it, the third scarab-shaped Jem'Hadar vessel dropping down through the puffy white clouds on a direct course- before something struck it from below and behind, enveloping it in a ball of flame that broke up and descended towards the water.

"Missile attack!" she snapped, running scans now, seeing nothing. "But from what? Where? There's nothing else out here!"

"Tell them that," Biggles breathed, nodding once more ahead.

Jhess rose from his seat and joined them, all three staring out at a trio of aircraft that didn't appear on the Tailless' sensors, but were there nevertheless, adopting a surrounding pattern.

Jhess' tail smacked against Sasha's legs in astonishment. "Those are Thunderbolt helijets! Militia vehicles! B-But how?"

An incoming signal drew Sasha's attention, as she responded to it, and a male voice filled the air. "Lieutenant Hrelle, we're from the Caitian assault carrier Deep Keep, here to escort you to the sea vessel to help you collect your father and sister. Disengage your weapons and follow us down."

Sasha glanced at the others. Could it really be true?

* * * * *

"Father! We've picked up Hap-Tek's transporter signal! It's only just activated!"

Melem-Adu turned to ThirdSon. "Beam him here!"

"Father!"

"DO IT!" The Master Governor's heart raced. His beloved son would be taken care of. He didn't blame him for his confession; those Caitian animals tortured him into complying. He would be healed, and he would join his father in making a feast of those responsible...

A red transporter beam filled the centre of the Capitol's Operations Centre.

And a burning mass of flesh on a wooden Martyr's Wheel appeared.

Ferasans gasped, some retching at the smell.

Melem-Adu could only stand there, seeing the remains of his second son, a charred, smouldering corpse... with an unburnt sign hanging around the remains of his neck that said simply LEAVE NOW...

* * * * *

In the Island's Command Bay, Kami stood still, hearing and smelling her fathers enter, along with her firstborn Mirow and his pregnant wife Ptera, all of them surrounding her, Ptera announcing, "We heard- have they been found, Kam?"

"We're just waiting." She squeezed Misha's paw. She projected an aura of calm, of command, surprising even herself. And she watched the activity of the technicians at the stations around them, seeing the churn, like something rising up from under water-

"A signal!" Mori declared, but then frowned.

"From whom?" Kami asked. "My husband? Sasha?"

"It's on an encrypted frequency, Caitian Militia credentials, but- there's no more Caitian Militia..."

Kami's heart raced. Was it some sort of Ferasan or Jem'Hadar trick? Only one way to find out "Let's hear it, Mr Mori."