Surefoot 72: Blue Sunshine

One unfortunate crewmember, a Grazerite female, rushed up to the alcove, obviously to employ it. Heisenberg fired his phaser, sending the crewmember backwards to hit the opposite wall and slump down, crying out loudly as she clutched her side, which was smouldering.

He emerged from the alcove, firing at several others who had emerged from doorways in response to the cries. He struck their legs, the burn setting of the beams disabling his targets but leaving them alive -- and necessitating aid from others, thus diverting forces from intercepting him.

"Heisenberg?" came the voice over his miniature earpiece. "We're two minutes away. What's your status?"

He paused, glancing around him, keeping alert; two minutes can be a lifetime... he turned and fired behind him. "The vessel and crew shouldn't give you any trouble, I've infected and disabled both, and they're still trying to right themselves. Now I'm getting to a secure beam-out place you can beam me away from. When can-"

The comlink cut off.

Heisenberg froze in place, tried and failed to re-establish the comlink. What happened? Why did they stop communicating-

No. No no no no NO NO!

He raced towards the Shuttlebay.

*

Gyver helped a shaking, sweaty Val to his feet, as they were joined by Hylore with a replaced helmet for her suit. "I've got Mal and Ali lying down, but they're babbling in some sort of waking nightmare-"

The equinoid nodded. "It will pass, with our help, as it has with Val. Please, help me with him-"

"YOU!"

All turned as Heisenberg rushed up, desperately pointing the phaser at each of them in turn. "Which of you can get us out of here in a shuttle?"

"I can, Sir," Gyver volunteered calmly, stepping aside from the others, and ignoring the reactions they gave him. "How may I assist?"

The doctor moved up to him, shaking now. "Go! Get to the Shuttlebay! Hurry!" Then he aimed at Hylore and Val. "Or they die before you! NOW!"

Gyver nodded to him, turned and proceeded down the corridor, hurried along when Heisenberg stabbed the phaser into his back. "Move! We don't have much time! I have no intention of dying alongside all of you!"

"I understand, Sir," Gyver replied.

*

Giles rechecked his weapons, his shields and sensors and other systems. A minute away. Well, Giles, what do you do? Wait for them to come to you before you draw the line, here and no farther, or...

He opened a channel. "Attention, Orion Syndicate vessel: this is Lieutenant Giles Arrington of the USS Longpaw. You have entered Federation space illegally, without registration or a filed flight plan. I'm ordering you to come to an immediate full stop, power down your systems and prepare to be boarded, or I will have no choice but to open fire upon you. Please respond."

He swallowed, hoping he'd sounded suitably authoritative. This could work. As Captain Hrelle once taught him, Sometimes battles are won with a baring of the teeth and no blood drawn. This could work. As the silence continued, he assured himself of that again.

Then a reply came. "Say your prayers."

*

In another age, when he wore another name, Walter Heisenberg would have talked to his captive for hours, asked about his equinoid features and hooves and mane and the types of conditions that cropped up in their gene pool. When he was younger, and full of curiosity and promise, he craved meeting members of new races, and asking all about them: their homeworlds, evolutions, physical and mental specifications. He loved to learn... and just for the sake of learning.

But life on the New Albuquerque Colony in Archanis was rough, too rough to allow such indulgences. His joy at knowledge was soon tempered. Tempered by shame, the shame of knowing what his mother had to do to keep the family fed and sheltered. Tempered by anger, anger at the corrupt authorities who let the Syndicate run their world in all but name. But mostly tempered by fear, fear that the next knock at the door was from the Syndicate, looking to finally collect on the family's ever-present debt to them.

So he finally grew tired, tired of the shame, the anger, and the fear, and he channelled his abilities towards those who could reward him. And the Syndicate did, taking him in, offering resources and protection.

He became the knock at the door. The one who brought shame and anger and fear to others. At least, until the Syndicate believed he was too risky to keep alive, even to rescue.

He held Gyver by the scruff of the alien's robes as he dragged him into the cold, dark confines of the Shuttlebay, glancing around, phaser pointed ahead of him. Meanwhile, his captive kept saying, "Please forgive me... please forgive me..."

"Which shuttle's the fastest? Can you get the Shuttlebay doors open?"

"Please forgive me."

Heisenberg faced him, taut with anger and anxiety. "What the Hell are you apologising for?"

"For lying to you, Sir. I know nothing of flying shuttles."

"What?" The human stepped back, eyes wide in disbelief. "Why?"

"To save my friends. A sin to prevent a greater sin is permitted by my belie-"

Heisenberg squeezed the trigger and fired at point blank range at Gyver's head.

Gyver dodged to the left, the phaser bolt flying past to strike the wall behind him, before striking out with his right hoof, sending Heisenberg flying backwards. Then he followed, kneeling down beside the fallen man, examining the damage. "And please forgive me for hurting you, Sir."

Hrelle entered the Shuttlebay, seeing Gyver beside Heisenberg. Unable to recall the equinoid's name, he chose the generic, "Crewman! Are you alright?"

Gyver looked up. "Yes, thank you, Sir. Please let me check to ensure I didn't injure this gentleman too unduly-"

Heisenberg half-sat up, gasping and coughing as he saw Hrelle. "We- we have to- have to go- the Syndicate have sent- sent a ship-"

Hrelle nodded, pointing the phaser at him. "I know, to collect you."

The human coughed as he let out a harsh, mirthless laugh. "I thought that, too. They're here to silence me..."

Still on Hrelle's shoulder, Fuzzybutt growled. "Kill him. Kill the Orions. Kill them all."

Hrelle ignored the suggestion, focusing on the fallen human. "Give us the antidote to the Virotics you released onboard, and we'll protect you-" Then he stopped. "They're silencing all of us, aren't they?"

Heisenberg offered a rueful smile. "It's the Syndicate way. When they knock at your door... it means you're dead men walking."

*

On the Bridge of the Ajax, the protest of the engines being pushed to their limits and beyond sent a teeth-jarring whine through the very hull of the ship. Weynik's First Officer, the Zakdorn Kohanim, kept glancing at the Engineering readouts, and then at his Captain, saying nothing.

Weynik kept staring ahead.

Behind him, his Second Officer Sasha would not stay silent. "Ten minutes until we reach the Surefoot. The Orions will be there in two minutes."

The Roylan continued to stare at the viewscreen, the starfield dilated almost to a pinpoint, as focused as his own thoughts. "Hail the Syndicate ship."

"Sir?"

"Hurry!" He breathed in, preparing himself.

Seconds later, Sasha announcing, "Hailing Frequencies open, Captain."

He rose, as if he could look across the distance and see the vessel threatening his best friend and his ship and crew. "Attention Orion Syndicate Vessel: this is Captain Weynik of the USS Ajax.

We both know you will have already detected our approach. We both know that you will reach the Surefoot and the Longpaw before we do, and that when you arrive, you will take action to destroy the vessels to suppress any knowledge of your criminal activity.

You're too late. They have already forwarded their logs to us, all their collated data on your drugs and your operative, and we have passed these onto Starfleet Intelligence. Taking further action at this stage will be pointless.

Should you choose to continue on your present course, however, I promise that when we arrive... we will not kill you.

We will take you alive. We will devote all of our resources to keep you from dying, either by our hands or your own. And then your names and images will be broadcast on all the news channels in the Quadrant, declaring that you are cooperating fully with us against the Syndicate.

I should not have to tell you how the Syndicate will respond to your alleged treachery, as an example to others. How their vengeance will affect your assets back home, your business interests, your partners, your allies.

Your families.

Ask yourselves if whatever short-term gains you might make today will be worth it. But I'd advise you to make up your minds right now." He signalled to Sasha to end the transmission.

The Bridge went quiet, until Kohanim rose to his feet, the oatmeal-skinned humanoid appearing even paler than usual. "Sir... no matter the provocation, to threaten their families-"

"I never did that," Weynik snapped. "I merely reminded them that the weed of crime can bear bitter fruit, and not just for themselves. Lt Hrelle, what's the situation ahead of us?"

Sasha glanced down at her board. "The Orion vessel... is turning around! Heading back the way they came!"

*

On the Longpaw, Giles had listened to the message from Captain Weynik to the Syndicate, and, coiled like a spring, waited. Waited. Waited.

Then he saw the ship make a sudden, sharp turnaround.

Seconds later, the Ajax contacted him again on audio. "Stand down, Lieutenant. We'll be there in seven minutes to assist."

Then he heard Sasha add, "That should give you time to change your pants."

Giles withheld his initial answer to simply reply, "Aye, Sir."

*

Hrelle kept his phaser trained on Heisenberg. "You're under arrest, Doctor. But if you give us the cure to Blue Sunshine-"

The human looked up at him, near panicking now. "You don't understand! My employers are coming to destroy us all!"

"Shoot him," Fuzzybutt urged. "He's a whiney little kussik."

Hrelle focused on the captive. "Is that right? You've been in contact with them?"

"Yes!"

"How far away are they?"

"They said two minutes!"

"And when did you last contact them?"

Heisenberg blinked. "About... five minutes ago."

Hrelle nodded. "So... either they stopped somewhere for a bathroom break..." He paused as the lights returned to life around them. "Or things are no longer as desperate as you feared. So, about that cure..."

Heisenberg looked up, and Hrelle could see the man quickly reconsider the changed situation... and how he could turn it to his advantage. "I want a deal: immunity from prosecution for any crimes which I may have committed on either the Aquarius or the Surefoot, and safe unrestricted passage to the nearest non-aligned world. Agree, and I'll tell you how to neutralise the viruses."

Hrelle regarded him. "Agreed. One moment, please." Then he tapped his combadge. "Hrelle to Bridge: what's our status?"

Kit's voice replied, "The infection of our ship's systems has been cleared, Respected Captain, we have a skeleton crew of uninfected personnel manning critical stations, there are numerous minor injuries but thankfully no fatalities reported among the infected, and the USS Ajax has arrived to render assistance. And yourself?"

"I'm in the Shuttlebay, with Dr Heisenberg. I'm taking him to Sickbay, where Dr Shyrik can scan him and extract whatever methods the man employs to remain immune from the effects of the crap he peddles. Then I'm taking him to the Brig, before joining you. Hrelle out."

Heisenberg glared up at him. "Lying son of a bitch! We had a deal!"

Hrelle blinked. "Did we? I mustn't have been in my right mind if I said something like that."

"Now shoot him!" Fuzzybutt demanded.

Hrelle reached up and swatted him away.

*

"Captain's Personal Log, Supplemental, Esek Hrelle, Recording: Dr Shyrik managed to identify the neutralising agent Heisenberg employs to avoid contamination from his own products, and has quickly distributed this among the crew, with everyone making a full recovery from this, as well as the injuries that resulted from this incident.

Lt Arrington and the Away Team returned safely from the Aquarius, which has been cleaned up and reprogrammed to journey back to Tandara Prime to be retrieved by the local authorities. And I am placing a note of commendation on Lt Kitirik's record, regarding his command during this crisis.

Lt Shall has moved Heisenberg to the Brig, for eventual transfer to Starbase G-6 to face trial for his numerous crimes. Heisenberg has promised to return and come 'knocking'.

I'll try not to lose too much sleep over that. Especially if the Syndicate get to him first.

There will be psychological and emotional injuries to deal with here as well, of course, but fortunately we have a capable Counselor onboard, who seems satisfied with my psychological and emotional health. He's no Kami, but he'll do.

On a personal note, it turns out that even I was affected by Blue Sunshine, though the effects were apparently lessened by the suppressant treatments I received to minimise Caitian Pheromone Withdrawal. Though for the life of me I can't recall any symptoms.

Captain Fuzzybutt can't recall anything, either.

That's a joke, by the way."

*

Bellator was emerging from an inspection of Engineering, along with a number of recommendations on additional failsafes to prevent loss of Bridge control, when they stopped and turned at a set of footfalls, and a familiar voice. "Lieutenant!"

They straightened up formally, hands folded behind them. "Mr Dellaport? I trust you've recovered from the attack?"

The young human stiffened formally as well, his pale skin flushed, his eyes wide as he visibly gathered his resolve. "Yes, Lieutenant, thank you. It was... I think Alison called it 'mind blowing', which is as good a description as any, I guess. Lieutenant, I know you're very busy, so I'll say what I came to say."

Nevertheless, he paused, prompting Bellator to reply, with some mild amusement. "When you're ready..."

He swallowed, his voice and expression one of genuine remorse. "I'm... sorry, Lieutenant. Sorry for how I've acted. Sorry for how I've treated everyone onboard. Sorry for disgracing the uniform. Whatever feelings I might have had that led me to join Starfleet should have been left behind the moment I took the Oath. That's... That's all I wanted to say."

Bellator narrowed their gaze. "That's all?"

He nodded. "If you'll excuse me, I should return to my quarters. Thank you again."

Then he turned and left, Bellator watching after him thoughtfully.

*

"Come on, Dad, fess up," Sasha teased as she followed Hrelle down the corridor to his quarters. "You planned all this to get me to come visit you, right?"

Hrelle nodded as the doors parted. "If I was gonna put that much effort into something, it would be to circumvent the dietary restrictions on the replicators-" He froze, hearing and smelling someone new. "Who's in here?"

Immediately a short, grey-skinned female humanoid in Crewman's fatigues emerged, carrying a large bundle of clothes in her arms, grinning broadly. "Hello, Sir! It's Crewman Jain, Support Services!"

"Malala, what are you doing in here?"

She indicated the clothing. "I was going to deal with your laundry, Sir! I know you've been busy saving all of us, so-"

He raised a paw to her. "Thank you for the gesture, Crewman, but I'd rather you didn't. If you clean them, they'll lose the scent of my family, something I need in the absence of the real thing."

Malala's face paled as the realisation of what she was about to do hit her. "Sir! Oh Sir, I'm so sorry, I didn't realise! I'm sorry!"

He smiled. "It's okay, just put them down."

"Yes! Yes, Sir!" She let them drop to the floor and stepped away from them.

Sasha smirked. "Great, now you get to work on your abs."

"Smartass. You remember Malala Jain, of course. You and Alpha Squad discovered them on the freighter Beholder... and she came to address the crowd at your graduation."

Sasha's reaction told him that she hadn't made the connection until now, and it made the young human flush. "Yes. Yes, of course. I- I never got the chance to say Thanks, for your kind words that day."

Malala's eyes widened. "You... want to thank me? You saved my life! You saved me and everyone else who'd been taken from our colony by those slavers! I owe you everything! I owe you and Captain Hrelle everything! Anything you want, I'll do for you!"

Hrelle enjoyed the look on Sasha's face at the Malurian's effusive reaction, something he'd grown used to since returning to the Surefoot, before he quipped, "Well, you can always bring back a plate of fried shuris pieces from the Mess Hall for Sasha and me."

Now it was Malala's turn to be nonplussed, as Sasha snapped out of it to chide, "That's not fair putting her on the spot like that, Dad, you know Doc Cowboy will have put out the word to everyone to keep you on your diet. Besides, I'm trying to clean up my act too now: no bad foods, no booze. Some sex." She smiled at Malala. "Welcome to Starfleet. You did say in your speech you intended to pay forward what we'd done for you and your people. Glad to see you made good on that. Welcome to Starfleet."

Malala's grin looked wide enough to reach her ears. "Thank you! Thank you, Lieutenant!"

Hrelle shooed her. "Now get going, my daughter and I have important classified matters to discuss."

"Yes, Sir! Yes, Ma'am! Consider me gone!"

Sasha breathed out as the younger woman departed. "All that enthusiastic energy, she's like a sack of bunnies." She frowned at him. "So what are these 'important classified matters'?"

"Well, I was going to get you to order up some food for yourself so that I could take in the scent and drool-"

"Eeeuw."

"-But instead you can take this away." He moved to the table and picked up the Captain Fuzzybutt doll, handing it over to her.

Her mouth opened at the sight of him, and she stroked the fur on its head, a glimmer of the six-year-old girl who first got him all those years ago returning momentarily. "Oh, look at you! O Captain, My Captain!" She grinned as she hugged him, before looking at her father. "But why? What's wrong with him? Why can't he stay with you?"

"Just take him, okay? And if he starts lecturing you on your weight, stuff him in the recycler."

*

Bellator suppressed a shudder as they heard the invitation, "Enter."

They did, striding forward and standing formally before the desk in the Captain's Ready Room. "Captain, Lieutenant Sextilis Magna Bellator reporting as ordered."

Captain Hrelle sat behind the desk, furred paws folded before him, as T'Varik stood beside him, and Dr Auger stood silently in the background. Hrelle offered a smile. "At ease, Mx Bellator."

Then he looked to the Vulcan, who continued. "Lieutenant, you were assigned to supervise the Support Crew. These duties include disciplinary action against Crewman Dellaport. My impression was that you were proceeding with administrative dismissal action towards him. Now we have been informed that you have changed course."

Bellator swallowed. "Yes, Ma'am. He will have additional duties posted for the coming two weeks, and will attend daily Counseling sessions with Dr Auger to help him deal with both his memories and his reactions to them." She took a moment to indicate Auger, who nodded silently and continued to observe the exchange. "But I have chosen not to dismiss him."

"Why?" Hrelle asked.

The Nova Roman looked to him, feeling themselves flush. "I'm sorry, Sir, I can reverse that decision if you wish-"