Surefoot 72: Blue Sunshine

"Undoubtedly. Contact the Longpaw, update Lt Arrington and order him and his party not to return here. And contact... Contact the Ajax, request their... their immediate assistance!"

Bellator looked up. "Why are you shouting, Commander?"

From the intercom, Captain Hrelle's voice demanded, "Hrelle to Bridge: T'Varik, what's happening? Report!"

T'Varik didn't hear either officer: voices and emotions were flooding unbidden and unfettered into her mind, her mental abilities both expanded and stripped from her control. She was losing herself in the cacophony moving out from their present power extraordinary sabotage Environmental sweat humanoid C'Rash where are you where are you BELOVED-

She collapsed where she stood, even as Bellator stepped back from their console. They had started to move towards their Commanding Officer... except it wasn't T'Varik anymore. It was Rilix, the Bridge Officer on their former posting the USS Korolev. He was lying there, dead from wounds. And they were back in the midst of the battle that had cost Bellator their old life, their honour.

Incredible: the Red Alert pounded in their ears, drowning out the shouts for action from the surviving members of the Bridge crew, as Bellator struggled to try and find their courage and recover control... never comprehending that their fingers pounded uselessly against a blank wall and not an Ops station.

Nearby, Kit had risen, examining the fallen Bridge crew, looking to Ensign Kaldron at Tactical. "Are you feeling ill, Respected Colleague?"

The huge pachydermoid glanced down at his massive hands. "I do not, Comrade. What is happening?"

"Bridge!" Hrelle demanded again. "Someone respond!"

Kit slapped his combadge. "Respected Captain, Lt Kitirik reporting! There appears to be an infection that has struck simultaneously throughout much of the ship, with most of the same symptoms as reported from the Aquarius! It only appears to be adversely affecting humanoids, albeit in different ways: Humans, Vulcans, Bajorans." He drew up to Bellator, attempted to capture their attention, without success. "Are you and Doctor Auger well?"

"The Doctor is... stable, but incapacitated, but I don't appear to be affected in any way. How can an infection spread so quickly?"

Kit moved to the Ops station, checking readings as he answered. "Moments before, Lt Bellator reported that Lt Shall -- or perhaps just her Security clearance -- was used to override the Environmental Control Station. Lt Shall was last known to be interrogating the Aquarius survivors, and she is not responding to our hails."

The growl was audible over the intercom. "Sabotage. Send out a distress signal!"

Kit's webbed hands moved quickly over the controls. "Respected Sir, the same Security overrides that have locked us out of Environmental Control have shut down propulsion, weapons and external communications!"

"Of course. Coordinate with anyone still functioning in Engineering to regain control, and do the same with Shyrik in Sickbay. I'm going to find C'Rash and the survivors."

Kit frowned to himself. "Respected Captain, the Quarantine has shut doors and hatches everywhere, erected forcefields, transporter overrides! How will you be able to escape?"

"You leave that with me, Kit. You're in command for now. Keep me posted. Hrelle out."

*

Ten minutes before, Doctor Auger smiled at Hrelle. "Well, isn't this nice?"

Hrelle kept his smile fixed. No, it isn't, I'm here under protest. Let's just get this over with. "If you say so, Doctor." Still, as he breathed in, he could pick up the residual scent of Kami in her office -- my wife's office, Dr Usurper, not yours, and don't you forget it -- and he told himself that he could stay calm. "How long will this take?"

Auger shrugged. "How long is a piece of string?"

Hrelle blinked. "Twice the distance from the middle."

The human regarded him, chuckling. "I've never heard that one. Are you familiar with many Terran idioms?"

The Caitian leaned back. "Well, I studied at Starfleet Academy on Earth, I worked with humans from Earth, I married a woman from Earth, helped raise a daughter from Earth, and I've read, watched and listened to many examples of art and culture from Earth. So.... probably not."

"Sarcastic much, Captain?"

"Sarcastic? Me? Oh, nooooooo..."

Auger leaned back in his chair. "Captain Hrelle, I'm aware that many Starfleet Command Officers of a certain personality type are reluctant to open up to medical professionals in a Counselor capacity. But I'd expect a different attitude from you, given who you married. Even before that, though, she helped you recover from the many traumas you had experienced as a captive... and she's kept you on an even keel ever since. Hasn't she?"

Hrelle recognised his question as an attempt to appeal to his love for Kami, and win him over after their initial acrimony. On the other paw, he wasn't wrong. "Yes. And I fully appreciate the value of Counseling... when it's needed."

"And you think it's not needed with you?" Auger lifted up a PADD from the adjacent table, held it up without reading from it. "You spent months in hiding on your own world, in combat, you dealt with the attempted genocide of your people, injuries and threats of death to your family... you saw an entire city destroyed. You carried the burden of the liberation of your whole race. And with hardly a day of rest and recuperation, you went from that back to being onboard a ship, heading back into combat... and this time without your family for emotional support.

And you think that you, that anyone who would have gone through that, would not be feeling the psychological and emotional repercussions right now?"

Hrelle stared back, remembering the nightmare he'd had before the alert from the Aquarius. Remembering the feelings he'd been having before that, feeling as useless and as discarded as Captain Fuzzybutt.

"No," he admitted finally, watching beads of sweat form on Auger's dark skin, his own pulse quickening. "Of course we would. Anyone would. Denial is Delusion."

Auger smiled in appreciation. "Quoting from the Counselor's Handbook?"

"I've heard enough wisdom from it over the years. Maybe I should become one myself?"

The human grinned now. "From- From reading your record, from meeting various- various members of your crew, you're already very..." He frowned at Hrelle.

Hrelle blinked, sensing the change in the mood... and the rise in temperature from Auger's skin. "Are you feeling okay, Doctor?"

The human's gaze seems to fix upon his hands. "Fascinating... Captain, I think I need to get to Sickbay."

Hrelle frowned, leaning forward. "What's wrong?"

"I'm experiencing... hallucinations. Very vivid, on a visual, aural and olfactoral level. I smell burning charcoal. Hear the rustle of leaves in the wind. Autumn in Vermont again, back home. Sublimely lovely." His eyes grew deep, distant. "I'm losing- losing myself... dropping into the well... Captain, inform the doctors it- it resembles the symptoms from an ergoline alkaloid hallucinogen, but much- much more potent... psychosomatic reactions-"

He fell forward, Hrelle rising and catching him, gently easing him down to the carpet, as the Red Alert sounded, the computer announcing, "Contagion Alert Three -- all personnel are to remain in their present locations until further notice."

He smacked his combadge. "T'Varik, what's happening? Report!" When there was no response, he tried, "Hrelle to Sickbay: Doctor Auger appears to be infected with the same virus as-"

Shyrik interrupted him. "I'm way ahead of you, Captain! It's everywhere, and all at once! I'm currently trapped inside the Isochamber, while Masterson and the nurses are crouching behind a biobed, throwing equipment at something only they can see! I'm trying to contact the other Sickbays, and see if anyone else has avoided infection!"

Hrelle ground his teeth, opening a new channel. "Bridge! Someone respond!"

Finally Kit answered. "Respected Captain, Lt Kitirik reporting! There appears to be an infection that has struck simultaneously throughout much of the ship, with most of the same symptoms as reported from the Aquarius! It only appears to be adversely affecting humanoids, albeit in different ways: Humans, Vulcans, Bajorans. Mr Kaldron and myself are currently the only functioning Bridge crewmembers. Are you and Doctor Auger well?"

"The Doctor is... stable, but incapacitated, but I don't appear to be affected in any way. How can an infection spread so quickly?"

"Moments before, Lt Bellator reported that Lt Shall -- or perhaps just her Security clearance -- was used to override the Environmental Control Station. Lt Shall was last known to be interrogating the Aquarius survivors, and she is not responding to our hails."

His growl rose. If anything happened to his niece... "Sabotage. Send out a distress signal."

Seconds later, Kit replied, "Respected Sir, the same Security overrides that have locked us out of Environmental Control have shut down propulsion, weapons and external communications!"

He grunted. "Of course. Coordinate with anyone still compos mentis in Engineering to regain control, and do the same with Shyrik in Sickbay. I'm going to find C'Rash and the survivors."

"Respected Captain, the Quarantine has shut doors and hatches everywhere, erected forcefields, transporter overrides! How will you be able to escape?"

"You leave that with me, Kit. You're in command for now. Keep me posted. Hrelle out." He checked on Auger again, before going to the nearby cabinet and retrieving a spare medical tricorder and kit, thankful that Regulations required the equipment in every medical personnel's office. He scanned Auger, detecting an unknown virus causing inflammation of the brain tissue. His temperature was rising.

"So," noted Captain Fuzzybutt, peering down at the human from his perch on Hrelle's right shoulder, tiny claws digging into the padded jacket, tiny chewed-up tail swishing. "What are you going to do?"

He opened the medical kit. "Well, I'd administer a metabolic stabiliser or general antiviral, but this kit is limited." He rose to the replicator, activating it, confirming that the Quarantine measures limited its production to basic rations and water. "Bowl of ice water." As the request materialised in the alcove, Hrelle retrieved a facecloth from the adjacent bathroom and returned to soak it in the bowl.

"Actually," Fuzzybutt continued, the miniature figure's tail swishing against the side of Hrelle's face. "I was referring to what you were going to do to get your ship back, when you're stuck in here with a sick man you hate."

A chill ran through Hrelle as his paws lifted the soaked towel and wrung it dry. "I don't hate him. He's just doing his job."

As he returned to Auger, kneeling down again and wrapping it across the human's forehead, Fuzzybutt harrumphed. "You were ready to chew him up and spit him out last night."

Hrelle smiled slightly. "I was ready to do the same to Kami when she first starting Counseling me." He checked the tricorder readings. "His temperature's dropping again."

"You still haven't told me what you're going to do to get your ship back. You might be one of the few onboard unaffected by this virus, but you're still stuck in here."

"Am I?" Hrelle smirked, moving furniture aside to reveal a Jefferies Tube hatch.

Fuzzybutt hopped off of his shoulder and struggled with the lock, the diminutive figure finally stepping back. "See? The Quarantine protocols will have all the hatches secured. It's impossible!"

Hrelle ignored him, lifting up the sensor wand from the medical kit's tricorder, setting it on Maximum Sensitivity, and pressing it against the hatch lock. Seconds later, the hatch clicked open.

Hrelle switched off and pocketed the wand, glancing up at Fuzzybutt. "So much for what's impossible. That's why I'm a decorated Captain, and you're just a chew toy for my teething cubs. Now come on, we have to get to the VIP Quarters."

"The VIP Quarters? Why?"

"To get the answers from Heisenberg, the obvious cause of all this... and the potential cure, too." Hrelle crawled inside the Jefferies Tube, feeling huge and bloated in the confined area. Damn his big-boned state; at least he was immune from this disease giving everyone else hallucinations and psychotic episodes.

*

"It's Virotics," Shyrik declared over the intercom moments later.

On the Bridge, Kitirik struggled to remain calm in the midst of the growing distress they faced, but grasped at this small nugget of information. "Yes, that explains much, Respected Doctor."

Beside Kit, Kaldron, working to find countermeasures to the Security overrides, looked up, the pachydermoid's round eyes narrowing. "Not to me, Comrade Lieutenant."

"It is unfortunately a new criminal activity, Respected Colleague, popular among those who can afford it. It is a recreational activity that involves the sale, distribution and use of genetically-engineered viruses instead of pharmaceuticals, to produce feelings of euphoria, sedation, sexual stimulation or other effects for its users.

Virotics are genetically engineered not just for potency but a shortened lifespan of only several hours after being released from anaerobic stasis, quickly becoming unidentifiable inert material so as to limit contamination and detection... and potential reverse engineering from competitors if they obtain any active samples."

Working his way downwards to the next deck, his pointed ear twitching as Captain Fuzzybutt's tail flicked against it, Hrelle grunted as he listened to the exchange over his combadge. "I remember Virotics were still being developed by the Orion Syndicate when I was a captive, a business offshoot from the production of assassin viruses tailored to kill selected individuals with specified DNA patterns. The chief selling point of Virotics was their short lifespan, both as an infectious agent and as a detectable element in those who use them, unlike traditional narcotics."

Shyrik frowned at her readings within the Isochamber. "And the chief danger with them, apart from the sheer idiocy of intentionally taking something you don't have to just for thrills, is the effects that a virus might have on different races exposed to it. The Syndicate often employs doctors to deliver the Virotics, to administer and oversee their use at functions. And the doctors themselves will have immunity from their own filthy wares."

She brought up a picture of the sample taken during the autopsy, sharing it with everyone who had viewscreens. "Because Virotics degrade so quickly, there's typically no evidence that they've been used after a short time. But in the case of the Aquarius Navigator Diamond, she had sex with one of the Betazoids who had just been infected, and her birth control implant scanned the contaminated seminal fluid and encased one of the viruses."

Now a DNA Helix appeared on the screen. "I've identified the Virotic that infected her, the Aquarius crew... and now us: Blue Sunshine, designed for races like Betazoids with strong paracortex and paratemporal lobes which govern their telepathic abilities, it's meant to augment their abilities and produce a heightened gestalt, a shared waking dream experience.

But for races like Vulcans, it can make them lose control of their telepathic restraints, overloading them and triggering a self-protective comatose state, as we are now seeing with the likes of T'Varik. And for most other humanoids, Blue Sunshine can induce potent hallucinations, and in some cases elicit psychotic breaks and stimulate violent behaviour, towards themselves and others."

Hrelle made a sound. "The human crew of the Aquarius were accidentally infected with this virus, causing the incidents of murder and suicide, and probably the theta leak accident, too. What about a treatment, Doctor?"

"I'm trying," Shyrik snapped. "But I need active samples, and I can't go out to retrieve them without getting infected myself!"

Hrelle crouched at another hatch, retrieving his improvised unlocking tool. "Lieutenant, how are we doing on the Security overrides? Anyone in Engineering able to assist?"

"No, Most Respected. I fear most of the uninfected Engineering personnel were off-duty when the Quarantine began, and are now trapped in their quarters."

"Then begin a Level 5 Catastrophic Purge of the system to clear out the sabotage, Authorisation Hrelle One One Niner. And hurry."

"Hurry, Sir?"

Hrelle swatted Fuzzybutt out of the way. "We've been disabled in preparation for a visit from whomever Heisenberg works for, most likely to collect him and leave before he can cooperate with the authorities and reveal any secrets... and probably destroy us."

Kit nodded to himself. "No witnesses."

"You need to work out more," Fuzzybutt recommended to Hrelle.

"Shut up, you little bastard."

"Respected Sir?" Kit enquired.

Hrelle shook his head... smiling as he now successfully released the hatch before him, mentally picturing his location on his ship. "Never mind, Lieutenant. Carry on."

*

Val dodged the falling debris, crying out as the rubble from the crumbling city smashed down around him, assaulted by the disruptor bolts from the Breen attack ships overhead. He shouldn't have been here! He was only in San Francisco because he was visiting relatives! And now he was going to die here!

He shoved aside panicked residents, trying to get to the nearest subway entrance. He had to get away! He couldn't be caught out here when the Aliens inevitably transported in to finish what their ships had started!

He reached a hatch, dropped down and struggled to open it, pounding desperately on it. They couldn't keep him locked out! They couldn't!

There was an open tool box, sitting beside someone lying in the street. He reached in and lifted up a dynospanner, banging on the door. Come on! Come on! The city was crumbling around them!

"Valentin."

He spun around, raising the tool. The aliens! The aliens were appearing now to finish him off. "Stay back!"

Gyver stood still, hands raised up passively, his voice soft. "Valentin, it's Gyver Timbrel, your friend. We are on the Surefoot, not Earth."

"No! You're attacking us! Invading! Killing!" He raised the dynospanner higher, his heart racing, his head pounding. They were gonna kill everyone, or enslave them, or eat them!

The equinoid stepped forward, slowly. "No, Valentin. You are under the influence of some agent that is giving you waking nightmares. Others are under the same influence. You are not in danger, except from your own hallucinations."

"STAY BACK!" Valentin felt himself hyperventilate. It must have been some sort of gas or energy weapon the aliens were using on humanity! "You- You want to kill me-"

"You need to calm down, Valentin, your heartbeat is dangerously high, and we do not have the medical facilities to help."

"You're the Enemy!"

"No," Gyver insisted gently. "I'm your friend. We work together, eat together. I know you."

"NO!"

"I know you, Valentin. I know you grew up in a place called Winnemac, Canada. I know your mothers are a painter and an aviation engineer. I know you enjoy hot spiced apple tea and music by someone named Vivaldi, and you are a most gifted diagnostician."

"No! Stay back!" Val raised the dynospanner higher.

Gyver proceeded, kneeling down before the human, keeping his gaze focused. "I know that you were at San Francisco when the Breen attacked, and that you were trapped in the rubble of a collapsed building for three hours with the bodies of people you knew. I know you never felt so helpless before in your life, and not understanding why anyone would attack you, your world."