Surefoot 79: Killing Honour

Hrelle frowned at him. "The Commissary? He was supposed to be in school!"

Masterson crossed his arms. "Well, near as we've been able to piece together, he charmed his way out, telling the teacher he was going to the toilets. Then he apparently tricked some crewmen into leaving their meals early, so he could eat what was left on their trays."

Kami was growling now. "What?"

The doctor grunted. "And based on what we got out of him, it was an impressive buffet he'd bitten into before it finally bit him back: Klingon pipius claw, Bolian kippers vindaloo, Tellarite algolish pie, Betazoid chocolate sundae, sour shrimp soup, and chorizo sausage risotto, and all washed down with beer and raktajino." He looked back at the cub. "We've flushed the toxins from his system and have him on electrolytes, hydrators and stabilisers, but I'd like to keep him here for a few hours to rest up before releasing him."

Hrelle felt his own stomach twist inside, seeing his Warrior Prince looking so debilitated. "Mother's Cubs..."

"Listen," Masterson added, sounding both reluctant and determined to speak to them further. "I gotta tell you two: when I say it could have been a lot worse, I mean that as a warning as much as a reassurance; some of the foods available from our Commissary can be more than just tough to little critters who don't know any better. It was a good thing that he was found by a medical professional and quickly brought here."

Kami looked at him. "One of your staff?"

"No, a civilian doctor contracted to the Katana: Dr Jiyajh." He pointed to a Klingon female standing nearby, speaking with one of Masterson's nurses. "She's on shore leave. Her quick thinking made all the difference."

"Thank you, Zeke," Hrelle replied. "And I promise you, we'll speak with Misha." As the doctor walked away, Hrelle growled. "I'm gonna have words with that teacher of his."

"No, you won't. She's new, and our cub has a dangerous combination of charm, cunning and appetite. He knows exactly what he's doing, has been wrapping cadets and minders around his little tail since before he could speak, with nothing more than a purr and a look from his big bronze eyes. I'll speak with Ms Donovan, she doesn't need to get chewed up by the Big Commode."

He shook his head. "He seems to be getting into more and more trouble lately."

"He's older, smarter, gets around more, and we're in an environment we have less control over, while we take on more responsibility. I remember my firstborn Mirow getting the Seven Hells from me for climbing the roof of the Clanhouse to play Battle of Claw Keep. I'm sure you did, too."

"Hmph. My Sasha grew up here, never got into this sort of trouble when I was her father."

She snorted. "That you know of. She, on the other paw, has told me of a few misadventures she had when you were off being the Mighty Lion of Salem Sector."

Before he could respond to that, his combadge chirped, and Zir's voice filled the air. "Commodore, the Ulyanov has just parked into the Hangar Bay, and Captain Blum needs to see you right away regarding the Klingon attack on the Aquitaine ."

"I'm in the Hospital right now, it's quicker to have him meet me here."

"He also asked about a Dr Jiyajh, Sir, a civilian specialist. Shall I put out a stationwide summons for her to join you there?"

Hrelle glanced over again at the Klingon female. "No need, Lieutenant, she's here already. Hrelle out." He continued to stare. "Wonder what that's about?"

"Why don't you go be the Big Commode and find out, while I take care of our cub?" Kami suggested. "I left Sreen with Professor Tallus. She said take our time, but-"

Both Caitians turned as a number of people entered the Hospital, some Hrelle recognised: Marvin Blum and several Security crewmen from the Ulyanov, and a bearded human male with a baby, the male drawing up to Dr Jiyajh, the three of them huddling with genuine affection. Hrelle came up to Blum. "I just got word, Marvin. What's going on?"

Blum looked at him. "Commodore, the Klingons who attacked the transport were after this human, Lawrence Talbot, and his son Kurt. They refused to say why until we brought them here to see Dr Jiyajh, claiming to be married."

Hrelle drew closer to the little family unit, the adults on edge from all the attention, while the Caitian breathed in deeply through his nose before speaking. "I'm Commodore Hrelle, in charge of Salem One. Dr Jiyajh, I was going to meet you anyway, to thank you for taking care of my son, but it appears we have more pressing matters. Like why the Klingons are after you."

He focused on Talbot. "And why you're pretending to be human."

*

"Where's the Commodore?"

Zir was allocating additional personnel towards assisting Sternhagen in the Hangar Bay with getting the Ulyanov ready to fly out again, and realised she had forgotten that Salvo was coming up. She straightened up and turned to face the Station Security Chief. "He's in the Hospital."

The tall, statuesque, coffee-skinned Nova Roman frowned. "The Hospital? Is he ill?"

"No, his son took sick, and now he's meeting with Captain Blum down there about the Klingon incident."

Salvo grunted, looking around. "Where's Sternhagen?"

"Captain Sternhagen is in the Hangar Bay, supervising the repairs to the Ulyanov."

The other woman scowled. "She knew I was coming up here! Why didn't she warn me so I could reschedule?"

Zir regarded her, before crossing her arms and leaning against the adjacent wall. "Well, either she was looking to get one over on you by sticking you with me, or she was looking to get one over on me by sticking me with you." She shrugged. "Maybe both."

Salvo sneered... but at least Zir didn't think it was directed at her. "Typical. I'll reschedule."

"Why? I'm the Commodore's Adjutant. Just about everything gets passed through me first, anyway."

Salvo stared back hard, her face unreadable, except for that challenging glower that seemed to be the woman's default. Then she shrugged.

*

Hrelle looked around the Medical Conference Room, wondering when he had last been in here, assuming he ever had. Then he set aside such musings, as he regarded Jiyajh, holding her infant, her partner Talbot on her left, shooting daggers at Hrelle for revealing his apparent secret, Kami on her right, and Captain Blum and Doc Masterson sitting on either side of Hrelle, as Masterson updated the others. "Over two hundred years ago, in pre-Federation days, a group of Klingon scientists tried to bioengineer super warriors from among their people using DNA secured from genetically-modified human embryos left over from Earth's Eugenics Wars.

Needless to say, it didn't work out. An Augment Virus was created, piggybacked onto a mutation of the Levodian Flu, and those afflicted lost their external cranial ridges and adopted outwardly human-like features. The Virus spread throughout the Empire, affecting millions." He looked in Jiyajh's direction. "Doctor? You'll surely know more about this subject than me."

She glanced down at her child, showing a quiet gentleness as she fussed over it that those unfamiliar with Klingons might find surprising. "It took a century, but a treatment was found, successful with most... but not all. Those resistant to the treatment were called HabwI', and would pass their altered genes to descendents."

Kami was leaning in, purring at the infant and making him gurgle with approval, but now she stopped and confessed, "I must admit, I knew that some Klingons looked different to others at some stage in the past, I've seen historical documents, but I never knew the details about the reasons behind it. I just assumed that there were different races, like humanoids."

"Klingons do not like to speak of it, Counselor," Talbok explained, looking around him, as if daring anyone to make a comment or joke. "Or be reminded of it."

"Maybe Federation medicine might be able to assist in finding a cure for all the HabwI'?" Blum suggested.

Hrelle heard and smelled the indignant reaction from Talbok, but it was an equally-perceptive Kami who countered with, "Perhaps the HabwI' don't feel like they need 'curing', Marvin? That despite what many of their people might think or say, they don't feel like they should have to assimilate?"

The Klingons looked to her with admiration, Talbok following with, "Yes, Counselor, you understand."

"Oh," Blum answered, looking at Talbok. "Sorry, no offence."

"None taken."

"But still," Hrelle ventured, focusing on Jiyajh. "It can't have been easy. I take it your House is one of those who look down on HabwI'?"

She nodded. "House Uklass is of noble lineage with traditional values, though our fortunes have declined some. We have gained renown and influence for our business: salvaging and repairing ships for the War Effort, as well as research and development on the Enemy's weapons and vessels. My father had designs to marry me to the eldest son of K'Tal, a powerful and influential member of the High Council."

She looked at her partner. "Then, while I was away, completing my medical degree on DuSaQ, I met Talbok, a teacher of young people, whose heart was as sharp and strong as any blade. Our passion grew... our child Khurst is the product of this."

"And when word reached your House?"

"It was a very public scandal. My family believed I had irreparably dishonoured them. And they believed the only way they could regain their standing among our people was through what is called Karo'kar."

'Honour Killing'," Hrelle translated, grinding his teeth. "Of you."

"And my child."

"Son of a bitch," Masterson breathed out. "Where in the Hell's the honour in wanting to kill a child?"

"The Klingon Empire can't condone such actions," Blum asked, looking and sounding appalled. "Can they?"

"Not officially," Talbok admitted. "But among many of the more traditionalist parts of our society, a blind eye is sometimes turned. Especially if such acts are committed by more powerful Houses, like Jiyajh's."

"Our former doctor on the Surefoot, Kline, is also a member of your House," Hrelle reminded Jiyajh. "He's the one who arranged to send you to work for Starfleet."

She nodded. "Kline is my uncle, and though he has no influence with my father, disagreed strongly with the idea of Karo'kar, and did what he could for us. Talbok took Khurst to Triacus, purchasing a human identity for himself and our son, until we could reunite here and plan our next moves." She grunted. "Obviously my father tracked us down first."

Hrelle breathed out, letting his claws extend to tap against the conference table. "Kline should have been forthcoming about the situation. So should you, Doctor. We could have been better prepared."

The Klingon couple looked at each other, before Jiyajh responded, "We regret any trouble caused to you, Commodore. We will leave immediately, seek a neutral world-"

"No you won't."

She blinked, clearly not expecting his response. "Sir, my family-"

"My tail may be a little kinked at the lack of prior communication about your problem, but you, your child and your partner are part of Starfleet now, and under its protection... and mine. And if your family doesn't like it they can kiss my furry ass."

His announcement silenced the room, until Masterson asked, a smirk lifting his bushy auburn moustache, "It's good to see becoming a Flag Officer hasn't softened your saddlebags."

Talbok's mouth opened, but nothing came out, leaving Jiyajh to answer for them both. "Are you- Are you certain of this course, Commodore?"

"Oh, he's certain," Kami assured her, her purrs directed towards her husband now. "We can protect all three of you here, while we call in some favours owed to us from the Klingon Empire. The Commodore and I have had dealings with some high-ranking Imperial officials over the years." She shrugged. "Honour is honour, but I'm betting a word from the Vice Chancellor can paper over all that..."

*

At that moment outside Salem One, the darkness of space rippled and wavered, as four Klingon vessels appeared in equidistant points, aiming and firing simultaneously...

*

In Operations, proximity alerts made the assembled stop and take notice, Zir and Salvo rising in time for a Tactical officer to shout, "Four Klingon vessels decloaking around us! They're projecting some sort of dampening-"

The lights, intercoms, computers and other machinery went blank and silent.

For a second, it seemed to have rendered the Operations personnel blank and silent as well, before Zir tapped her combadge. "Lt Dassene to Commodore Hrelle! Lt Dassene to Captain Sternhagen!"

Beside her, Salvo drew her phaser as she looked around, then checked the display on her weapon, before snarling and holstering it once more, storming up to the centre of the Ops stations. "Report!"

Zir joined her, as Ajik announced, "We've lost all power! Even the portable devices! I'm guessing it's some sort of damping field, but we didn't have time to properly scan it!"

"What about life support?" she asked one of the Engineering crew.

"It's down along with everything else, but the system's designed to let us survive without it for several days."

"What about the Klingon vessels detected?" Salvo asked.

"They're probably still out there, we can't scan for them now, call for help-"

The Orion rushed up to one of the windows, feeling Salvo follow, the pair of them peering out at the starscape lit by a nearby yellow sun, and the extended cage of the exoframe array for ships too large to fit inside the Hangar Bay.

But they focused on the winged vessels, one near the starboard shield radiator panels, and the other barely visible near one of the Deck 5 external airlocks. Zir frowned. "Definitely Klingon... but I don't recognise the design. Something new?"

"Something old," the Nova Roman corrected. "D5 Class Battle Cruisers, first deployed in the 2150s."

"They're still flying ships over two hundred years old?"

Salvo shrugged, still studying the vessels. "The designs are that old, but they were making them well into the next century, and we have plenty of ships from that time still in operation, especially to supplement the War effort." She pointed at the nearer one. "These have modifications to them; energy field projectors, not weapons."

"Causing the blackout," Zir concluded, turning back to the Ops crew and raising her voice. "Initiate Reduced Power Protocols! Check backup systems-"

"Lieutenant," Salvo interrupted. "What are you doing?"

Zir faced her again, confused. "What do you think I'm doing? I'm following Command protocols!"

The Nova Roman stepped forward. "This is a Security Emergency. I am the Station Chief of Security. It is patently obvious that I am more qualified to take over."

Zir stared back, sparing a moment to wonder if the older, more experienced woman was correct. But then that wonder passed with her doubts... and her lingering feelings of intimidation from Salvo "The chain of command established by Commodore Hrelle is explicit. I don't doubt your combat and tactical skills, but that doesn't make you more suited to command."

Salvo bared gleaming pearly teeth. "You do not want to get on my bad side, Orion-"

"Enough!" This came from Ajik, standing with the others watching the exchange. "There's no time for a pissing contest, or whatever it is women do! We have to assess the situation-"

But then he himself was interrupted by the shimmer of crimson transporter columns lighting up the darkened Operations Centre, and four Klingons materialised, fully armoured, wielding bat'leths in their hands.

And letting out battle cries as they charged at the unarmed Starfleet personnel.

*

Deck 4 - School:

Srithik looked up from his desk as the coal-skinned equinoid walked in, speaking with Ms Donovan before she nodded and left hurriedly. The young Vulcan knew of this entity from Misha: Sre Gyver Timbrel, a member of a non-Federation race called the Paladel, who had served as a Support crewman on the Surefoot before transferring to Salem One along with many others.

He appeared fascinating... but Srithik was more concerned with Misha, who had disappeared for some considerable time to use the toilet, and never returned. The young Caitian proved to be... rambunctious... but utterly friendly and willing to accept Srithik into his home. He felt protective and responsible towards him, as an older child, and raised his hand for attention. "Excuse me, Sir, but has something happened to Misha Hrelle?"

Timbrel turned to him and stepped closer, his hooves clacking on the floor and his long narrow snout tilted up. "Master Misha... did not return to the classroom as he should have. Instead, he wandered over to the Commissary and ate something which disagreed with him, and is currently recovering in the Hospital." He looked around at the rest of the class, as others reacted. "He will be fine, and back in class tomorrow. But this incident stresses the importance of following the rules. They are there to protect you, because we want all of you to be safe-"

The lights went out. Children started reacting, making sounds of alarm, even as lights came to life above, and from the chemical reading lamp in the corner of the room.

"Everyone, stay calm," Timbrel urged gently, moving to each child to set them back into their seats. "I am certain the power will return in a moment."

Srithik rose too, aware of the unease from among the younger members of the class, and driven to assist. He had been in battle with his aunt T'Varik in space on the Surefoot, and was determined to pay back some of the compassion shown to him since leaving Vulcan. He moved to Abby Boone and Naida, Misha's declared 'girlfriends'. "Mr Timbrel is right, stay calm and remain in your seats."

Then he noticed that the PADDs on everyone's desks had gone blank too, and he frowned; they operated on independent power supplies, and shouldn't have been affected by any power failure on the station.

Crimson columns of energy appeared in the corner of the room, as two Klingons appeared, looking fearsome in the reduced lighting as they stepped forward.

Children called out in fear, some rising and knocking over their chairs, and Srithik stepped in front of Abby and Naida, while Timbrel stepped between the class and the Klingons, calmly asking the latter, "May I assist you, Sirs?"

One Klingon regarded him with a sneer. "What manner of creature are you?"

"If you wish to learn about my race, please take some spare seats and I will enlighten you-"

"Where is the Klingon child?" the other Klingon demanded.

"There is no Klingon child among my class."

"You lie! We detected these children here! The little bastard must be among them!"

"I do not lie, Sir. And I must ask that you refrain from profane language, and leave. You are frightening the class."

The second Klingon laughed harshly. "We will do more than that, when we cut off your head and mount it on the wall as a new lesson for them!"

The equinoid held out his arms, his three-fingered hands extended. "I give you my word there is no Klingon child here. I must respectfully ask once more that you leave now. Station Security will be here momentarily to confront you, and I do not wish the children to see acts of violence-"

"Kill him already, Oklang," the first one urged.

The second one drew an elaborate blade, one which extended smaller blades at the hilt at the touch of a button, before he rushed at Timbrel.

The children cried out, though Srithik remained silent, watchful. He had studied martial arts in school on Vulcan, had even taken a few lessons from his two Aunts while on the Surefoot. He was older than the others. He needed to show he could contribute. It was logical.