Surefoot 72: Blue Sunshine

"One of you will follow me into the Captain's Ready Room. I don't care which."

Auger made a sound as he complied, T'Varik waiting until she heard the door slide shut before turning to face him. "Doctor, allow me to be direct with you: Firstly, in future you will address our mutual Commanding Officer by his rank as well as his surname, especially in the presence of others. Regardless of his current duty status, Captain Hrelle deserves nothing less than the respect due him. Is that clear?"

The man grinned. "Well, well, I didn't know Vulcans had nerves for me to get on-"

"I asked you a question, Doctor."

Auger dropped his grin and breathed in, before nodding and replying amiably, "Yes, Ma'am. That's clear."

The Vulcan remained taut. "Secondly, in future you will be extremely cautious about suggesting in public that I commit acts of deception. Is that clear as well?"

He looked ready to make another pithy remark, but instead offered, "Yes, Ma'am. Is that all?"

"No. Thirdly, you will be equally cautious about making facetious remarks in public regarding my relationship with my lawfully-married partner."

"This is quite a list, Commander, can I send for the rest of my breakfast?"

"Request denied. And fourthly, be advised that I will be filing a protest with Starfleet Medical regarding your actions in removing Captain Hrelle from Active Duty without first addressing it either with him or myself. You could potentially have placed this vessel, and those we serve, in jeopardy."

"Really?"

Her gaze narrowed. "Are you doubting my word, Doctor?"

He crossed his arms. "Frankly, and with all due respect to you, Commander... yes. One of my ex-wives has been in Starfleet longer than me; she was even the CMO of the Enterprise-D for a while a couple of years ago. And Katherine always told me, 'The strength of our service is that no one is indispensible'.

As for your protest to Starfleet Medical, you are of course free to do so... but you must know already that I broke no Regulations in not informing you or Captain Hrelle beforehand. I simply showed our esteemed Captain the same respect he showed me, by cancelling twice on our appointments, without contacting me first." He smiled. "I've served on Galaxys, Excelsiors, Nebulas... some pretty important ships. Don't I also deserve nothing less than the respect due me, as well? Even if I'm not as familiar and as beloved as my predecessor here?"

T'Varik narrowed her glare... and then softened it. "I will reconsider filing that protest, Doctor. But in future, you will not revoke any crewmember's duty status without first informing Captain Hrelle or myself.

You have served on vessels with crews numbering in the many hundreds. The Surefoot's crew numbers a mere sixty-three... but we are still as important as any of the Galaxys or Excelsiors or Nebulas -- at least, if you ask those whose lives we have saved.

You are correct, in that no one is indispensible, but each and every one of us on the Surefoot is vital, our dynamic more intimate and interconnected than with a larger crew, and the unexpected loss of any of us can have impacts that are immediate and profound."

Auger nodded in what appeared to be genuine consideration, before responding with, "Point taken, Commander. You've made me think."

She folded her hands behind her back. "I am delighted to have introduced you to the concept. I suggest you make a habit of it."

His mouth opened, his expression one of amused astonishment, as he finally chuckled softly. "Oh, Commander, I don't think I've ever met a Vulcan like you before. Looks like I'm gonna have to watch myself in future."

She raised an eyebrow. "That would undoubtedly be the wisest decision you have made since boarding."

*

Back in the Firepaw with her Away Team and the Aquarius survivors, C'Rash surreptitiously opened a comlink in her suit to Uncle Esek in the Shadowpaw as both runabouts returned to the Surefoot. Then she turned to the survivors, slipping on her most diplomatic voice. "Mr Veid, I'm sorry for your loss, but we need to determine what happened onboard your ship. I'd like to ask you a few questions, if I may."

The young Betazoid sat in his seat facing her, bent forward, unable to look up at her as he bit his fingers anxiously and glanced to his left at Heisenberg, who rested a reassuring hand on his charge's leg as he took over. "Perhaps I can assist with that, Lieutenant? Errim remains deeply shaken by this tragedy."

C'Rash nodded to the human. "Yes, thank you, Doctor, anything you can tell us would be most helpful. Why were you out so far from Tandara Prime? We're awfully close to the frontlines in the Betazed Sector."

Heisenberg nodded. "I know, Captain Trips on the Aquarius had warned us about that, but... this was meant to be Errim's bachelor party. His family had hired the ship to take him and his friends to Risa and back..." His gaunt, lined face creased. "But we had hardly left the Tandaran system before everything went so tragically wrong."

"But what exactly happened, Doctor?"

He looked at her with deep blue eyes. "The Aquarius crew had seemed... off... from the very start: irritable, short-tempered, exhibiting bouts of aggression and paranoia; as a physician I'm familiar with the signs, but I had attributed it to the symptoms of a crew whose employers had been working them too hard, for too long and with not enough pay or leave.

Then, yesterday, I had been called to assist when one of the crew stabbed the ship's doctor..." He shook his head. "I couldn't save her. And then everything seemed to erupt at once: fighting broke out all over the ship, Errim and his party were attacked, there was a horrible explosion in Engineering..." He reached out and squeezed Veid's hand as the young man started weeping. "I found Errim, and I had to focus on keeping the both of us alive until help came."

Inside C'Rash's helmet, Hrelle's voice whispered to her. "Why did they hide inside the Shuttlebay control booth? Why didn't they take one of the escape pods located all over the ship?"

C'Rash kept her reaction hidden to what she heard, leaning forward as she asked, "I'm curious: why the control booth? Wouldn't it have been safer to leave the ship entirely in one of the escape pods? They have automatic distress signals, navigation and propulsion, and food and supplies to last for days."

Heisenberg nodded in agreement. "Fear, Lieutenant. Sheer naked fear. We didn't know where we were out here; we could have been in enemy territory, or drifted into a cloud of the theta radiation pouring out of the ship, or even into a star! And as dangerous as it was remaining onboard, the unknown looked far deadlier. It seemed safer to stay onboard, maybe try to signal Starfleet for help, but... well, I'm a Doctor, not an Engineer." He smiled faintly. "Thank Heavens you came along."

She nodded diplomatically.

"He's full of shit," Hrelle declared in her ear. "He was too afraid to use an escape pod in case they were in hostile territory, but was still trying to signal for help? Does he still have that bag with him? The one he's clung to like a cub on the teat throughout this 'tragedy'?"

C'Rash's gaze narrowed to the black valise sitting next to Heisenberg. "Excuse me, Doctor, but can I have a look inside your bag, please?"

That made Veid react in mild alarm -- the weeping magically ceasing, C'Rash noted -- before glancing at his companion... until the human squeezed his hand again.

"Is there a problem with my request, Doctor?" C'Rash persisted, narrating for the benefit of her uncle. "Why did Mr Veid react the way he just did?"

Heisenberg smiled. "This is my medical kit, Lieutenant. Just standard equipment, I can assure you."

"Really? Then why bring it along?"

He shrugged. "Sentimental value. It was a graduation present, given to me before you were even born."

"Would you open it, please? I'd like to confirm the contents."

Veid was tensing further. "Walter-"

But Heisenberg waved him off, focusing on C'Rash. "Is all this really necessary, Lieutenant?"

"Watch yourself, Niece of Mine," Hrelle cautioned in her ear.

She made a sound of assent... her paw resting idly, but unmistakably on her phaser holster. "It wasn't a request, Doctor. People have died, violently in many instances, and an investigation is already underway. I won't ask again."

Now he chuckled, reaching for the valise and setting it on his lap. "Well, Errim, I guess we've been caught. Time to face the proverbial music." He unlatched the valise.

C'Rash drew out her phaser at warp speed, aiming it from her hip in Heisenberg's direction. "Slowly, Doctor!"

Veid reacted, as did several other members of the Away Team. But Heisenberg looked very casual for someone with a weapon trained on him at point blank range. He looked up at her, still smiling. "Easy, Lieutenant, you're going to give yourself a heart attack; I hear Caitians are prone to cardiac failure." Slowly he unlatched the valise, keeping it open as C'Rash reached in with her free paw and began withdrawing civilian medical equipment: tricorders, hypospray kits and other paraphernalia...

And then women's silk and satin underwear. And what were unmistakably sex toys. And a small recorder-player that activated to display explicit visuals of naked and barely-clothed participants, including Veid, rolling around and rutting on plush pillows and rugs, back on the Aquarius.

"What is it?" Hrelle asked her.

"These look like... souvenirs..." She looked to Veid, who blushed and looked away. "Someone had a very good time on his bachelor party cruise before it all went to the Seven Hells."

"Yes," Heisenberg confirmed sheepishly. "Errim wanted keepsakes of his time away, things he didn't want his mother or fiancée to see, and had asked me to hold onto him for safekeeping. As you can see, they're all rather... embarrassing." He started returning the items-

-Until she stopped him. "I'll not judge." She holstered her phaser again, reached out and took the valise from him, emptying the contents to the seat beside her, scanning each of them with her Security tricorder. Then she accessed Veid's recorder-player and uploaded the data into her own device.

"Why are you doing that?" Veid asked, looking chagrined and outraged. "That's private!"

"We may need to examine it as part of our investigation. Don't worry, Mr Veid, we won't tell your mother... or the next of kin of everyone on the recordings. Hardly the way they'd want to remember their dearly departed." She switched off her outside mic to speak privately with Hrelle. "I've examined the bag's contents: apart from the dirty stuff, there's a standard medical kit, some emergency medicines, tranquilisers, antibiotics for whatever sexually-transmitted diseases the Poor Little Rich Betazoid might have picked up."

"No hallucinogens? Psychosis-inducing drugs?"

"It seems standard commercial pharmaceuticals, but I'll get it checked in Sickbay while the survivors get a fuller examination." She paused and asked, "You buy the story, Sir?"

That the Aquarius crew just all went mad at once and committed mass murder? I can buy irritability, the odd act of mild violence you get from crews serving together for long periods without a break... but these weren't front-line troops or Klingons in a blood feud; they ran a yacht for rich assholes. Something external must have driven them to these extremes... maybe the Betazoids themselves?"

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe there was a telepathic trigger? Betazoids can force-project thoughts and emotions onto others, sometimes while under the influence of illness or chemical or biological agents. I want a fresh Away Team returning to check on the bodies, as well as finish the work to lock down and scrub the theta leak. I don't want the leak to spread into local space."

She grunted. "And what will you be doing all this time?"

"Me? Don't ask me, I'm just an Observer. Like you said, you're in command of this Away Mission, it's why you get the Big Money."

C'Rash told him in explicit detail what he could do with the Big Money.

*

Bellator had been in their office, in the process of collating the collected data about the Aquarius disaster, when their doorchime rang. Bellator recalled the reason for the reminder, contemplated delaying the matter to another time, but then decided it had been ongoing for too long already. They considered remaining behind their desk, to add authority, and compensate for their own height... or lack of it-

No. Bellator rose and stepped around. "Enter."

Valentin Dellaport entered, standing at attention... his formality ending there, the scowl on his face offering another indicator of his mood, as did his voice as he announced, "Crewman Dellaport, reporting as ordered, Ma'am."

"'Lieutenant'," they corrected, matching his pose. "Not 'Ma'am' or 'Sir'. You are aware why you have been summoned, Crewman?"

He offered a slight sneer. "Another complaint?"

"Multiple. Again. Of the six Support Crew we received, you alone produce more negative feedback than the other five combined... which isn't as great an achievement as one might think, as the only complaints I have ever received about any of the others have all originated... from you."

Dellaport's face tightened. "I proffered only legitimate concerns about some of them."

"That is arguable. Or rather, dismissible. You have numerous talents and considerable intelligence and potential, Crewman, but these are marred by your obstreperous nature and bigoted opinions, and under normal circumstances, you would never have been accepted into Enlisted Training, let alone graduated. But Starfleet's numbers have been severely depleted by the War, and standards as well as training time have had to be lowered.

Still, there comes a point when even beggars should be choosers."

The young man stiffened. "Permission to speak freely?"

They nodded.

"Lieutenant, the day Earth was attacked by the Breen, I signed up so that I could help protect my world from something like that happening again. But when I did, I stressed that I wanted to be assigned to one of the ships in Starfleet's Earth Defence Force, among fellow Terrans. I have no connection with Betazed or Cait or Vulcan or any other world that isn't mine, and I have no interest in risking my life to save them. And I never asked to be sent out here."

"Few in Starfleet, whether officer or enlisted, are given such options," Bellator replied. "We go where we are needed. Earth may be a significant part of the Federation, but it is not the Federation, and the actions we take out here, saving planets and people you have no personal connection or seeming empathy for, can only benefit your world."

Dellaport swallowed. "Still, I would prefer to serve among people I can relate to... people I'm comfortable with. Perhaps it might be best for all concerned if I could be transferred to the Defence Force, while you obtain someone more willing and able to be out here?"

The Nova Roman officer regarded him. "Perhaps, Mr Dellaport... and having looked at your record, and seen the numerous rejected transfer requests you have already made, perhaps your subsequent behaviour and attitude onboard has been driven at least partly by that notion, to make yourself so unpopular that a transfer would be desirable by your commanders.

But that's not what's going to happen."

He looked to them now. "Excuse me?"

They moved closer, glaring up at him, uncaring now of the advantage in height he had over them -- because it didn't matter; their authority made them the tallest one in the room. "No. What's going to happen is that you're going to return to your quarters, relieved of Active Duty, and remain there until further notice.

Meanwhile I will speak with Captain Hrelle and Commander T'Varik following the end of the current crisis, with the recommendation that you be dismissed from Starfleet with immediate effect and returned to Earth, as a civilian."

Dellaport started, flushing quickly. "You- You can't do that-"

"You'd be amazed at what I can do, Crewman; I even amaze myself sometimes."

"B-But that's not fair! I want to serve!"

"Yes... but on your own terms. That's not how Duty works." They looked at him and asked, "Do you wish to say anything at this time, Crewman?"

He stiffened, turning a shade of red Bellator would have thought possible in nature. "No, Lieutenant. Not a thing. Not a damn thing."

They nodded curtly. "Then I guess we have nothing more to discuss. Dismissed."

*

C'Rash remained close with the survivors after both Away Teams underwent decontamination procedures in the Shuttlebay, and they were taken to the Main Sickbay for an examination, while Uncle Esek accompanied the styrolite-cocooned body to Sickbay 2 for an autopsy.

She had hoped for someone to find something more from their guests... but Masterson finally approached her, his scent and expression telling her everything before he finally spoke. "They check out fine, Lieutenant. Mr Veid has residual traces of ambizine in his system; Dr Heisenberg confirmed he had administered a minimal dose to keep him calm during the outbreak."

"What about his medical kit? Anything out of the ordinary there?"

He shook his head. "Commercial sedatives, stimulants, antibiotics, antivirals, autosutures, protoplasers..."

"Is Heisenberg genuine?"

"You mean a real sawbones?" Masterson nodded grudgingly. "I threw a few questions at him, kept it casual. He seems legit, though I expect you'll be doing your own checks."

"Damn right we will-"

"Excuse me, Lieutenant?"

The Caitian turned as Heisenberg, clutching his medical bag again along with Veid's elbow, approached. "If you're finally done with us here, we would like to rest for a couple of hours undisturbed."

She almost argued the point, but could find no real reason to do so. After all, what if all her suspicions were nothing more than that? "Of course. But be advised that as part of our investigations we will need to ask more questions of both of you later."

"Of course, Lieutenant, of course. We'll do anything we can to help you bring closure to the families of those lost in this tragedy."

*

She led them to the VIP Quarters, pointing out the facilities. "The sonic shower, sink, Three Seashells, and the replicator and entertainment centre are all clearly marked and available to answer any questions you might have on their use. For security reasons we can't yet contact your people on Tandara Prime, but I promise you we will."

Heisenberg smiled again, holding out his hand. "Thank you for everything, Lieutenant. No hard feelings about the incident on your shuttle."

C'Rash bristled... but she knew she couldn't potentially upset their guests without good cause, and offered her paw in reply.

Too late she felt him tense, felt the pinprick at the base of her paw. She stepped back, reached for her phaser, her combadge... even as her limbs were numbing at an incredible rate, and she was collapsing like a tower of cards...

*

Heisenberg caught her, grunting. "Help me get her into the bathroom."

Veid stared as if phasered. "You... you killed her..."

He ground his teeth as he dragged the Starfleet officer. "Don't be stupid, boy! Hurry, we don't have much time!"

The Betazoid youth snapped out of it, though his assistance was ultimately minimal, but they managed to pour her into the shower stall, as Heisenberg removed her phaser and combadge, and switched on the sonic unit to Minimum. "That'll help mask her bioreadings from their internal sensors." He grabbed a hand towel and wiped his bald pate as he returned to his valise on the table, setting aside the towel and quickly unpacking his possessions, throwing aside the bachelor party souvenirs. "They'll be here in under an hour."