Surefoot 75: The Lion of Salem

Hrelle smiled and nodded back, his mind already jumping ahead to the inevitable battle. He wouldn't have Mac at his side as usual, but he knew the operation on Scesity would be in good paws. "Red Alert!"

*

The Away Team entered the unoccupied control station overlooking the junction between the refinery and the conveyer network moving ore around. Macready removed his exosuit helmet. "Abedi, Glinch, take the point, cover both doors in case things get tasty. Patel, Odenberg, access the computers, find me something to scupper the Bel-Zon's plans."

As his people went to work, Macready resisted the urge to pace around, even as he considered alternative options: sneak down, take the place of one of the Bel-Zon, free some of the captive colonists, shut down the force field... the Bel-Zon outnumbered them, but surprise might work in their favour. "Report."

Patel frowned. "The features are limited in this station, Commander: the main control networks are locked out, Operations Room only, presumably controlled by the Bel-Zon to prevent any actions taken by the colonists."

"Can we access them remotely?"

"No, Sir, and we'd only end up calling attention to ourselves."

But then Medical Crewman Svante Odenberg looked up from the station he occupied, his young, pale round features brightening. "Commander, we do have access to the Environmental Safety Network!"

Macready nodded, and then had to ask, "And...?"

He indicated the station controls. "In the event of acute radiation syndrome from a reactor malfunction or fissionable material, the ESN can flood the facility with anti-radiation arithrazine gas to minimise cellular damage until medical aid can be applied!"

Macready nodded again. "And...?"

"And arithrazine is a compound of other gases, including anesthezine! We can alter the mixture released to make it almost entirely anesthezine-"

"-Which will knock out everyone out there!" Macready grinned. "How long will it take?"

Odenberg glanced at Patel, before responding more soberly, "They may be alerted in Operations, Commander. The safety protocols will prevent them from stopping us remotely, but not from coming down here."

"Acknowledged. Get to work, let me know when you're ready." He reached for his helmet again. "Mr Glinch, you'll remain in here and take all steps necessary to protect the interior. Mr Abedi, there are one or two vantage points on the catwalks outside that will make good strategic positions, let's go check them out."

He rechecked his phaser. Okay, Esek, you'd better keep yourself alive out there. I'm not going to have to break the bad news to Hannah.

*

"Five minutes to the outer atmosphere of Sauron," Shekrev reported. Rather needlessly; the storm dominated the screen.

"Anything on sensors?" Hrelle asked, eyes fixed.

Behind him, Ellerton replied, "Just ionic interference from the storm below, Captain."

Beside Hrelle, Rorx made a sound, but otherwise kept his promise and didn't interfere. Hrelle leaned back, his mind working at warp. "Helm: bring us to a full stop. Keep our stern planetside, no reason we can't take advantage of the sensor interference as well, but be ready for combat manoeuvres.

Engineering: We're gonna need all the power you can muster, no interruptions. Tactical: keep all torpedoes primed but ready for short range manual targeting. Do the same for all phaser banks, ensure the resonance frequencies stay in the high narrow band; the old Arasene-class webspinner ships were vulnerable to that range. Maintain the same tactic with our shield frequencies."

He paused and looked directly at Ellerton, capturing the younger man's attention. "Miles, you can do this. You just need to listen to me, do exactly as I say. I have full faith in you."

Ellerton swallowed, but clearly looked bolstered by the words. "Thank you, Sir. I won't let you down."

"I know you won't, given the alternatives-"

He paused and looked back at the viewscreen. Starboard side- facing the system's star, adding to the interference- "STARBOARD SHIELDS TO MAXIMUM-"

The ship lurched hard to port as a volley of plasma fire struck.

Hrelle was prepared -- no jokes about cats keeping their balance, please -- but had to catch Rorx as he tumbled forward out of his seat, slamming him back into it as he ordered, "Helm! Evasive Pattern Alpha-Nine! Port torpedoes, target and fire! Ops, let's see them!"

The Furyk twisted and corkscrewed to port, as the viewscreen shifted to an image of nine spearhead-shaped vessels moving with uncanny precision, like birds, their size and shape offering sharp manoeuvrability as they evaded the trio of photon torpedoes in hot pursuit... before a series of pulses emerged from the aft sections of the Raiders, joining together at a point behind all the ships and striking the torpedoes, detonating them.

Well, that was a cute trick. "Keep us facing them, Shekrev! Ellerton, fire forward phasers!"

Twin phaser beams shot forward, as the swarm of Raiders drew closer... and generated a collective shield bubble, deflecting the phaser beams, before they repeated their trick from forward arrays, a single, sustained plasma beam striking the Furyk.

The ship lurched once more, Ellerton reporting, "Shields down to seventy percent! Minor damage to outer systems!"

Hrelle bared his teeth as he struggled to stay upright. "Reroute damaged systems! Focus on getting our shields back to maximum! Rabin, analyse that beam, it's not just a simple plasma spit! Helm, pursue them!"

He watched as the Furyk roared forward, and he ordered another volley of torpedoes... not so much to strike, but to see how they react. And they did, the nine of them splitting up, again in almost-perfect formation, though the torpedoes did lock onto one of the Raiders. It fired at them, but it was too close, and the torpedoes detonated, taking out the Raider.

The others regrouped, reminding Hrelle of some sea creatures, as they drew in together and fired another combined plasma beam, the collective power piercing the shields and sending the Furyk spiralling away, and the Bridge crew struggled to remain in their positions.

"Status!" Hrelle roared over the klaxon and the fires around him.

"Shields down to 40%!" O'Reilly reported, bleeding from her forehead where it had struck her panel. "Damage on Decks 2 and 3 Starboard, Damage Control Parties ordered!"

Hrelle moved up to the Auxiliary Tactical station, calling up analysis data on the last blast. The Raiders were using the networked facilities of the Tholian ships, normally employed to construct their energy webs, linking momentarily to perform their tight manoeuvres, or to deliver powerful collective plasma punches. You're as strong as your collective... but still as weak as your individuals.

"They're coming in again!" Ellerton cried.

"Evasive!" Hrelle responded, the ship banking sharply again but still taking a glancing blow from the Raiders again.

"Shields down to 20%!" O'Reilly updated. "We have hull breaches on Decks 3 and 4 Starboard! Force fields in place!"

Hrelle didn't acknowledge, distracted by calling up a new set of frequencies for the phasers. "Helm, meet them head on again!"

Onscreen, the Raiders regrouped and returned.

"Sir?" Ellerton started, but then shut up as he saw the expression on the Captain's face.

Hrelle focused on the Raiders, a pack whose strength was also its weakness, if he timed it right. The sensors saw the harmonics shift between the ships, the bridging of their systems, transfer of power from shields-

He aimed at one ship and fired everything.

It struck, the beams travelling across the lattice to the rest of the Raiders, and one Raider blossoming into energy became eight.

Momentum carried the energy and debris forward, striking the Starfleet vessel and making it rock, but not to the degree of the attacks. Hrelle moved around the Bridge, checking his crew for injuries and ensuring they could continue functioning, before announcing, "Stand down from Battle Stations, maintain Yellow Alert. Damage report."

O'Reilly coughed several times, before recovering enough to announce, "Breaches remain on Decks 3 and 4 Starboard, force fields still in place, Damage Control teams repairing now. Warp drive down, shields down, Sickbay reporting injuries, none serious."

Hrelle nodded. "And you? Will you live to devour another plate of salt and pepper ribs?"

The redhead smiled and nodded back. "Count on it, Sir."

Hrelle smiled and moved to Rorx. "Commissioner?"

The Bolian was trembling, and he had turned a deep dark indigo, his eyes wide as he looked up, his voice breaking a little as he asked, "Have... have the bullets stopped flying?"

Hrelle nodded and patted the man on the shoulder as he moved on. "Well done, Mr Ellerton. Sorry if I stole your thunder to deliver the killing blow, but it would have taken longer to explain it than to administer it."

Ellerton waved off his apology with a weary but relieved expression. "S'Okay, Sir, I'll try not to hold it against you while I'm busy remaining alive with everyone else."

"Much obliged. Mr Shekrev, take us back to Scesity, Full Impulse. Brigid, see if you can hail the Away Team. Hopefully they will have been successful in their own efforts."

They proceeded back to the planet. The Away Team didn't answer.

Not until they were ten minutes away. "Crewman Patel to Furyk."

Hrelle frowned at the unexpected response. "Crewman, this is Captain Hrelle: Report."

The woman's voice was cracking from something more than interference on the comlink. "Sir... we sedated the whole facility... brought the force field down, disarmed the Bel-Zon... are you close?"

Hrelle rose to his feet, feeling the furs rise on the back of his neck. "We'll be there in under ten minutes. Where's Commander Macready?"

"Sir... there was- was resistance... he... Commander Macready was killed."

*

"Captain's Log, Stardate 36519.11, Captain Esek Hrelle, Recording: The mining colony of Scesity has been liberated, the Bel-Zon operatives have been taken into custody, and the makeshift explosive devices they set up to recreate the Praxis disaster has been dismantled, and none of the Raider ships survived.

But I am not celebrating. We have lost one of our own: a good, brave, resourceful and intrepid officer, a husband and father... and a good, true friend of mine. Michael Macready may be succeeded, but he will never be replaced."

*

The polished, ebon-black torpedo casing sat in the centre of the small, cold room, draped in the blue and white flag of the Federation.

Hrelle stood alone at the far end of the room.

Until the doors slid open. He expected more crewmembers coming to pay their respects to their fallen comrade; he had encountered more than a few since he took on the vigil.

He didn't expect who appeared. "Hannah?"

She entered, clad in a dress uniform, her expression sober as she walked around the casing, stopping at the side and bowing her head for a moment, eyes closed. Then she approached. "Captain, please accept my condolences for the loss of Commander Macready."

"Thank you. I wasn't aware that we had arrived at Salem One."

"You haven't, not yet; I hitched a ride with the Vulcan freighter once they were ready to finally make it to Scesity."

He faced her. "Why?"

Hannah flushed. "I... I was gonna make an excuse about coming to assist your Engineering crew with the damage you received. But the truth is I wanted to be here for you, before you arrived at Salem One and get caught up with all the necessary duties."

"Thank you," he replied, with genuine gratitude. "Who's minding Sasha?"

"She's staying with friends. I told her I was on a repair mission. I didn't mention you were involved, otherwise I would have gotten an award-winning performance of the worst tummy ache in the Galaxy to get me to stay."

Hrelle nodded. "I'm sorry to put you through so much trouble."

Hannah made a sound. "You don't have to apologise for anything. Especially not at this time." She moved to stand beside him, facing the coffin. "Is this a Caitian ritual? Standing watch over a body?"

He shook his head. "Caitians cremate their dead, then scatter the ashes over the gardens of their home, or somewhere that was significant to them. This is an Irish wake, in keeping with Mac's heritage. But with less drinking."

Hannah breathed in. "My people have something similar: a shemira. Prayers and psalms would be read, and the body watched over, protecting it, until it was buried." She looked up. "Alev Ha-shalom: Peace Be Upon Him."

"I arrived at Salem five years ago with the Furyk," he began. "New ship, new design, straight from the shipyards, the paint on the hull was practically fresh. And the crew they gave me seemed just as young. And here we were, assigned to keep the peace in an entire sector singlehandedly. It was my first real command. And... I was daunted.

I couldn't have done it without Mac. He kept me steady, on course. I could open up to him. Not just as a First Officer, a second in command who had my back, but as a friend."

As they stood together, she offered, "He was always so charming, grinning, putting on that Creole charm, even when he was trying to pass on the latest demands of his tyrannical Captain." Now she smiled. "He played matchmaker between us, you know."

He turned to face her. "What?"

"At first, when he started asking me about my personal life, I thought he was hitting on me. Then he was telling me all about you, building you up so much I thought maybe he had a thing for you. Eventually he came clean about his true intentions." She approximated his drawl in demonstration, "'Look past the Lion of Salem Sector and all the growling and posturing he does, and y'all see a kind, gentle, funny, lonely soul. He deserves to have someone waiting for him when he comes home. And they deserve him too'."

Hrelle smiled... but then sobered again, his expression tightening. "Mac was a damn fool."

"Esek?"

He turned, feeling his tail slap against her legs as he began a walk around the coffin, his anguish and anger welling up since hearing the news, since retrieving Mac's disruptor-burned body from Scesity and preparing a spare torpedo casing as per Starfleet tradition. "He was a damn fool. A Motherdamned idiot!

'They deserve him.'. Do they also deserve the dread that'll grip them on the day they hear their loved one has died, a hundred light years or more away in some nameless firefight on an anonymous planet? Does Mac's wife, his son, deserve the bottomless pain and sorrow they'll be feeling at knowing this time he's coming home in a coffin? Knowing that they'll never hold him again, except as a memory?

This is what Mac wanted for me? For the people I'd love? It's selfish! Selfish and cruel beyond belief! Who in the Seven Hells would willingly go through something like that?"

"I would. In fact, I did."

He stopped, turned and faced her, suddenly appalled and ashamed at giving vent to his own grief to her. "Hannah, I'm sorry-"

She raised a hand to cut him off. "I don't need your apology. I need you to listen to me.

You're right. Mac's wife and son will feel all those things now. As I did, when Jake died. Knowing that my life with him had ended, just like that. That we'd never again eat together, never make love together, never argue over stupid little things or plan where we were going to retire and spoil Sasha's children when they come round to visit.

I went through all the stages of grief, and then came back round again for another go at a couple of favourites.

And yet, for all that pain I suffered because Jake had been a part of my life, I wouldn't change a thing. Not a damn thing. Because without Jake, I never would have had Sasha. Never would have had all those wonderful times, those wonderful memories. My life was made ineffably richer for having someone like him as such an integral part of it."

She drew closer to him. "And if anything, it would make me treasure all the more the time that I would have with someone new.

If there was someone new."

She reached out and took his paw in her hand. "Esek, our time in this life is precious and short and can end at any time, for any reason. But keeping out all the things that can make life worthwhile because they could cause us or others pain will only diminish us, for what we'll never have."

And now she reached up with both hands and touched the sides of his muzzle. "What I said back in my quarters still stands: nothing is set in stone about us, no commitment, no promises or expectations. But if you do feel the same way about me that I do about you, I-"

She never finished her declaration, as he pulled her into an embrace, clinging to her tightly, his huge strong arms around her, and not wanting to let go.

Ever.

*

He visited his ship's Brig only once, prior to the transfer of the prisoners to the larger facilities on Salem Once. The fourteen prisoners from Scesity, spread out unevenly across the six cells, were a mix of races, in plain black combat outfits thoroughly scanned for contraband or devices. And according to the reports, none of them have spoken or made any acknowledgement to their captors since being collected.

And their silence continued as he spoke aloud. "You're about to be transferred to the facilities on Salem One. From there, a ship will come and take you to the nearest Federation courts on Marcos XII for your trials for murder, attempted murder, terrorism, assault, piracy and theft. You'll be given access to legal counsel there... though no doubt you could manage some sort of plea bargain if you cooperate and tell the authorities all about your employers in the Bel-Zon."

Mention of the name made some of them react, but otherwise they remained silent.

"Whether or not you do, though," he continued, feeling his hackles rise, "If any of you ever do manage to earn your freedom, I'd advise all of you -- very strongly -- not to come back here. As far as I'm concerned, your time in this sector is over."

He turned to leave.

But as he reached the door, he heard one of them call out, "No, Captain. As far as the Bel-Zon is concerned, this is all far from over.."

Hrelle considered turning back and confronting the speaker, before thinking better of it, and departing. He was just talking big for his friends.

*

"Sasha!"

The young girl rushed in at the sound of her mother's voice... the grin on her face vanishing as if beamed away as she saw Hrelle standing there beside Hannah at the entrance to their quarters on Salem One, replaced by a scowl. "What's he doing here?"

"Now that's quite enough!" her mother scolded. "I won't tolerate any more attitude from you! Now let me get something straight: I will be seeing Captain Hrelle on a regular basis from now on. Most times he and I will go out on our own, and you'll either have a babysitter or stay with your friends. Sometimes all three of us will go out together. And sometimes he might even stay overnight."

Sasha screwed up her face in disgust.

Hannah dropped to one knee to face Sasha straight on. "But regardless, I expect you to be on your best behaviour from now on, because Captain Hrelle will be a part of both our lives, whether you like it or not.

And you know, it may not be as horrible as you think. If you're good... really good... maybe Captain Hrelle will take you onboard the Furyk... and let you sit in the Captain's Chair?"

Sasha's eyes widened with the possibility... but then pulled back, truculently scowling again.

Hannah sighed and straightened up, looking to Hrelle. "I'm gonna get changed, and then we'll all go to the Starjammers, and maybe even make the 8:00 show at the Theatre." She frowned now as she regarded him. "I might have to trim back that mane of yours. I'm not having that in my face all the time."