Surefoot 83: The Dragon Gambit

"I will endeavour to remember, Sir," Srithik promised solemnly as he sat down again.

"Ooh! Ooh!" Misha reminded him of his presence. "Me next, Mr Talbok! Please, please!"

"You will be next," Talbok promised the cub. "If your question isn't about breaking wind."

Misha lowered his paw, pouting.

"Are you stronger than a mugato?" asked Cal Meacham, a human male whom Urad had seen running around the station with a scruffy tan Terran dog.

"I think so, Comrade. I can comfortably lift six hundred kilograms; more if I lift with my back and legs."

Then Nipote, one of the Paserak children, wrinkled his budding headfins as he asked, without being prompted, "Are you stronger than Commodore Hrelle? Can you beat him?"

Immediately Misha growled and declared loudly, "No he can't! My Papa can beat anyone!"

Now Nipote faced the Caitian, clouding his eyes in anger. "Your Papa's a fat old cat!"

Misha hissed and bared his teeth, taking an aggressive stance until Srithik reached out and rested a warning hand on Misha's shoulder.

"Misha! Nipote!" Talbok snapped. "That's enough! Behave, or you will both get extra homework!"

Urad watched the children calm down, before he chose to speak up again. "As it happens, Little Comrade, I could not beat Commodore Hrelle. Yes, I am bigger and stronger and have tougher skin than nearly everyone around me. But I learned soon after joining Starfleet that these qualities do not make me unstoppable. Commodore Hrelle is strong, fast, flexible, and very, very skilled." He looked towards Misha. "He is a mighty warrior, and I am learning much from him."

Misha beamed at the compliment to his father.

Urad took in the rest of the class. "And being able to fight is all well and good, but one must also be able to find a peaceful solution to problems-"

The classroom door suddenly slid open - Urad noticing the instinctive protective stance that Talbok took - as an adult Paserak male in a crimson utility jumpsuit entered, eyes and fins flaring as he glared at Urad. "So, it's true - you are here, spreading your propaganda!"

The Hroch drew back, confused by the reaction. "Excuse me, Comrade Engineer?"

Talbok stepped forward. "Mr Scortese, you can't just burst in here-"

The Paserak ignored him, his tail snapping behind him as he faced Urad once more. "You Uniforms are all alike, trying to indoctrinate our hatchlings into your statist Federation regime! How dare you? Have you no shame?"

"Comrade Engineer, I can assure you-"

"Mr Scortese," Talbok interjected, stepping between the Paserak and Urad, his expression stern and protective. "I can assure you that Ensign Kaldron is here strictly to talk about himself, as a member of a race unfamiliar to all of us. He is not on some recruiting drive for either Starfleet or the Federation... I would not allow it, as both a Klingon and an educator charged with the welfare of these children."

Scortese hissed through clenched rows of razor teeth. "You would say that; you are in their employ!"

Talbok's gaze narrowed. "As are you and your people here, it would seem."

The Paserak hissed again. "Not by choice, but by the foolish naiveté of our tribal leader! But that will change!" He moved past the Klingon to look at his child. "Nipote! Come! You will not be misled here any further!"

The child hissed back. "No! I don't want to go!"

Now Talbok joined in, his voice and expression sympathetic as he looked at his student. "Nipote, you cannot remain here without your parents' permission. You must obey your father." He turned back to Scortese. "Your son is welcome back here at any time, however. He is a bright and welcome addition to our class."

"Such sweet words, Teacher," Scortese sneered with naked contempt. "Your Klingon ancestors must be turning in their graves at how readily you bow and scrape to your Federation masters."

Talbok bristled, his hands balling into fists, and for a moment Urad feared he might have to intervene. But then the teacher responded only with a curt, "Klingons have no graves; they are typically cremated or interred when they die. Had you been here last week with your son, Mr Scortese, you would have learned that, when I talked about my people. I believe you know the way out."

He did, taking his offspring with him. Talbok looked out at the stunned, confused faces, before announcing, "We have taken enough of Ensign Kaldron's valuable time. Let us offer him our thanks for his visit."

The children thanked him in chorus. Urad nodded, silently not feeling deserving of any praise.

*

Deck 8 - Astrometrics Lab::

Engineering Crewman Arno Van Heerden smiled to himself as he completed the removal of the final gel pack, carefully setting it in the storage and transplant container "Take it easy, little liefling. We'll get you to your new home soon enough."

Of course, the blue-black pack didn't answer, nor did any of the others. Nor did he expect them to; the organic circuitry was intelligent compared with isolinear circuitry, but hardly sentient. But he liked his humour dry, even if none of his colleagues seemed to appreciate it.

He glanced around; most of the equipment here had already been removed, transplanted to the new Tactical Room near Ops, under Commodore Hrelle's orders, but the bio-neural gel packs needed someone qualified to install and uninstall them, and there were few people on the station available to do that besides himself.

His mind went back for a moment to his childhood, to some song about a talking reindeer ridiculed and ostracised by his family and friends for his glowing bulbous nose, until his particular ability made him useful one foggy Christmas Eve for Santa Claus. And the moral of that story? People will only want you around if you're useful to them.

Van Heerden shook off such cynicism - wasn't his colleague and friend bringing back a late lunch for them both from the Starjammers? - as he slid back under the main console, to retrieve the final packs, just as he heard the lab door slide open, and smiled to himself. "Jennifer! Your timing is digital! I'll be right out, and then we'll pack these up and you can see I'm right about Andorian sushi!"

He listened for her reply, which never came.

His fingers fumbled with the final connectors to one pack. Why was it being so stubborn, it hadn't been in place for that long? He chuckled. "I hope you're hungry, my friend."

" Oh, yes... "

The sibilant voice barely registered, before Van Heerden felt huge, hot, strong clawed hands grasp his shins, savagely dragging him out from under the console. Such was the speed and ferocity that he didn't have time to manoeuvre his right arm out, and it broke along the way.

The agony he felt at that time was brief. But only because it was eclipsed by so much more.

*

Hrelle had been back in his office, composing the condolence message for the next of kin of Crewman Wyatt, when his eyes picked up the Fire Alert from Ops. He startled Zir, sitting nearby assisting with the Death in Service administration, though she quickly recovered and followed him out into the main room. "What's happened?"

Sternhagen was leaning over Lt Arik at one of the Engineering stations. "Plasma fire in the Astrometrics Lab!"

"Another one?" He looked past her to the readings, his pulse racing. "Why aren't the suppressors working?"

"I don't know, I have Fire Control, Engineering and Medical parties converging over from Shuttle Stores."

Astrometrics... he recalled his idea to transplant the equipment from there to up here for Sector Tactical Analysis- "Was someone in there?"

He felt the scent change on his Station Master. "Engineering Crewmen Van Heerden and Mellor. Mellor's reported in, stating Van Heerden had been alone in the Lab. We're not getting a signal from Van Heerden's combadge-"

She stopped as Hrelle raced to the turbolift, Salvo joining him.

*

They held back as they rounded the corridor and saw the support crew at work, even as the filters above fought to clear out the acrid smoke that was still pouring out of the open door of the Lab. Hrelle's hackles rose as he caught unwelcome scents, but he controlled his reactions as he saw Chief Sakai's Assistant. "Mr Nalak?"

The young Vulcan male was standing to one side, eyes closed, and too late Hrelle realised that Nalak had experienced something that shook his normal composure. But then the olive-skinned Petty Officer straightened up and approached Hrelle formally. "Sir, forgive me, I was momentarily overcome-"

Hrelle raised a paw to cut him off, maintaining a conciliatory tone. "Tabakau ish-veh vo'ektaya. Your reaction is logical under the circumstances, Mr Nalak. Where's the Chief?"

Nalak seemed to take strength from Hrelle's deliberate use of the Vulcan mantra. "Chief Sakai had returned to Engineering to coordinate the inspection teams. I was already in the Shuttle Storage Bay on this deck when the alert sounded, and was first to arrive. Crewman Van Heerden... was beyond saving. Crewman Mellor was taken to the Hospital for shock."

Hrelle nodded. "Another plasma fire, like on Deck 11-"

"Commodore," Salvo interjected. "I want my people to run Security scans for explosives."

He looked at her. "You suspect sabotage? Not just a coincidence, or faulty parts causing malfunctions?"

The Nova Roman jutted out her chin. "I'd suspect malfunction, if we had just reopened the station after two years. But not now, after all this time, especially with the Paserak having been here before we arrived."

He nodded again in agreement. "Do it." Then, as Salvo turned away to use her combadge, he turned as Sakai rushed up, seeing the expression on his Chief's face, Hrelle explaining, "Another plasma fire... and another death: Crewman Van Heerden."

The older Asian man's eyes openly displayed shock. "God, no... I was qualified to handle the gel packs as well as him. I should have been here..."

"Don't go that route, Dave. Any idea about what might be happening?"

"Not yet, Sir. I was planning to do a full inspection of all the conduit hubs..." He glanced in the direction of the Lab. "But Astrometrics doesn't have the configuration I would have expected to trigger a plasma fireflash."

"Hold off taking any action," Hrelle ordered. "In fact, hold off on all maintenance until further notice. I don't want anyone on their own." When his combadge chirped, he tapped it. "Hrelle here."

Masterson's voice, and the anxiety lacing it, carried over the surrounding activity. "Commodore, we've finished the autopsy on Crewman Wyatt. You need to get up here, now."

"I'm on my way. Hrelle out.* He looked around. "Lt Salvo, get your scanning party in there before the Medical Team beams Mr Van Heerden's body to the Morgue. Chief, I want parallel scans run on the cause of the flashfire in Astrometrics, while Mr Nalak runs a systems diagnostic for anomalies from Engineering."

The Vulcan turned to him. "Commodore, I ask that you please not take my initial reaction on seeing Mr Van Heerden's body as an inability to perform my duties-"

He raised a paw to cut him off. "I'm not, Mr Nalak. But I want a more experienced pair of eyes up here. Yield to the logic of the situation."

*

He caught Kami's scent in her office in the Hospital as he entered, and heard her conversing with someone else. And she obviously heard him, as she emerged and followed him silently towards the Morgue, as Masterson and Eydiir emerged, removing their ruby-red scrubs, headgear and gloves and setting them on an adjacent trolley, Masterson looking ashen. "Thank you for coming, Commodore."

"You have something that can't just be put into a report?"

The human nodded, as Eydiir moved to a wallscreen and activated it, displaying multiple images and data screens while Masterson reported, "Crewman Wyatt's body was extensively burned by plasma fire... but that's not what killed him. Not the fire, nor any impact or debris from an explosion triggered by the fire."

Hrelle felt Kami tense beside him, as he asked, "What did?"

More images, some from a near-microscopic level, showing jagged parallel grooves in tissue and bone. "There is evidence of antemortem tissue evisceration, ventral thorax fragmentation... claw marks... and teeth marks."

"Mother's Cubs..." Kami murmured.

Eydiir nodded soberly. "I have seen very similar trauma on Capella, with hunters who were overwhelmed by local predators."

Hrelle stared numbly at the grisly evidence. "We have pests on the station that would scavenge- rats, naphrulls-"

Masterson shook his head. "Those critters are too small and scittery to have caused this level of damage, and there wouldn't have been time anyway. We also found traces of foreign DNA in some of the tissue that hasn't been burned."

Hrelle looked at him again. "Can you identify the killer?"

"No, Sir, as either an individual or a race... but there are genetic strands within the DNA's introns that are reptoid in origin."

"Reptoid?" He looked back at the claw and teeth marks in the images. "There's been another accident, another body - Crewman Van Heerden. There'll be a meeting in Ops in fifteen minutes; I want someone there with a report."

Masterson nodded, looking at Eydiir. "You ready, Chief Nurse?"

Eydiir grunted, retrieving fresh scrubs for them both.

Hrelle left them at it, departing with Kami, even as he slapped his combadge. "Hrelle to Ops: I'm ordering General Quarters Two with immediate effect, but be ready to upgrade to GQ Three. Once GQ2 is in place, I want an Intruder Scan, top to tail. And all Department Heads are to report for a meeting in 15 minutes. Hrelle out." He stopped, glancing around to ensure no one was nearby, before facing his wife. "Who's minding Sreen today?"

"Sre Gyver Timbrel."

He nodded. "Good, he can handle himself. The classes will be cancelled with GQ2, see if he's willing to mind Misha and Srithik too for the duration. I want you at the meeting as well."

"Of course." She crossed her arms, frowning. "No."

"No, what?"

"It's not one of the Paserak."

"I never said it was."

She glared at him.

"I'm running an Intruder Scan. I wouldn't be doing that if I thought otherwise, now would they?"

She glared at him.

He was ready to respond, when he saw two Security crewmen appear at the Hospital entrance, taking position as per GQ Protocols, and looked in their direction. "Crewman Lamont, open up the Hospital Weapons Locker, ensure the doctors - and the Counselor here - are equipped with a phaser. No exceptions, understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

Hrelle spared a final glance at Kami. "Get our cubs secure, and then get up to Ops."

And then left before she could argue further.

*

Deck 2, Guest Quarters 047:

"There is no cause for alarm. Station Salem One is now under Security General Quarters Two. All civilians and non-essential personnel are to return to their quarters and remain until further notice. Communications are restricted. Updates will be available on the public broadcast channels as and when appropriate. There is no cause for alarm."

The two women entered their quarters as the public address repeated itself, the Vulcan immediately removing her black robes and approaching her luggage. "I could have made contact with Hrelle and completed my part of this operation immediately if you hadn't interfered. You are attempting to sabotage our operation here. I will inform Zorin."

The Terran shucked off her jacket, moving to the replicator. "I saved this operation, Doctor; your bulldozer style of dealing with others will get us exposed. We have time to get what we need without raising suspicion with his underlings. And anyway, how would you tattle to Zorin with the interference from the ion storm?"

"You told the Orion that I was half-Romulan. It was insulting to be associated in any way with the likes of them."

"But it made sense, to explain your suspicious behaviour. And someone with your criminal record has no moral high ground." To the replicator, she ordered, "Tea, Darjeeling, Hot. And sixteen shortbread biscuits."

As these materialised, Dr Visaj, aka Dr Orlok, renegade Vulcan and criminal biologist, made a dismissive sound. "You will put on weight if you continue to sate such gastric indulgences."

Sylvia Anderson, aka Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward, aka Lady Fantomax, the Galaxy's Greatest Cat Burglar, picked up her replicated cup and plate of biscuits, and carried them over to a nearby table and chair. "No need to show such concern. We're not married for real, Dr Orlok... a truth I'm certain we both find comforting."

"Agreed. You are, however, at risk of reducing your overall physical efficacy to the operation by indulging in such fattening comestibles yourself."

"I concur." Fantomax began setting twelve of the biscuits down in a row on the carpet at her feet. "Assuming they were all for me."

Orlok observed her activity, and noted, "The rodents. You indulge those mutant scavengers too much."

"They're colleagues in the Bel-Zon, intelligent and highly valuable ones. Even a scientist as twisted as yourself should be able to appreciate their uniqueness."

"You have a point," Orlok finally conceded. "I hope to vivisect one or two of them to study that collective mind they share."

From floor level nearby, a mechanically-generated male voice warned, "Try that and you'll regret it, Ears."

Both women turned as the sound of a tiny phaser burned through the grid of an air vent, toppling the covering, and a dozen rats of different sizes and colours poured through, swarming to the proffered biscuits and feeding in an eerily orderly fashion, the largest rat, wearing an equipment harness, looking up at Fantomax and nodding, "The Rat Pack thanks you, Milady."

She raised her teacup in salute. Orlok remained unamused, asking, "The enablement of General Quarters would indicate Jaws has already made his first kill. Did you complete your own assignment?"

Ben, aka the Prolocutor for the Pack, nibbled away at some more of his biscuit before replying, "Datalinks and isolinear points set up in the key locations. You'll be able to tap into their real-time internal communications, but not their secured files."

Fantomax reached for her portable computer. "That access will come, if Jaws completes the next steps of the operation successfully."

Then the announcement repeated. "There is no cause for alarm. Station Salem One is now under Security General Quarters Two. All civilians and non-essential personnel are to return to their quarters and remain until further notice. Communications are restricted. Updates will be available on the public broadcast channels as and when appropriate. There is no cause for alarm."

Ben looked up, as if he could see the speaker. "'No cause', huh? Someone's in for a rude awakening..."

*

Deck R1, Hrelle's Office:

"We've examined Van Heerden's body," Masterson reported coolly, "And can confirm he died the same way as Wyatt: trauma following a physical assault by a large predator with pronounced teeth and claws. And there was evidence of flesh being consumed with him as well."

Hrelle heard, felt and scented the collective shudder from those around him at the round table beside Hrelle's desk. He kept an eye on Turikana, present in his capacity as the leader of the Paserak community on Salem One, as he asked, "And the traces of reptoid DNA you found in Wyatt, was the same found in Van Heerden?"

"Yes, Commodore."

Turikana reacted to this news, his headfins thickening and turning a deeper red of alarm... but then Hrelle was distracted by Kami, sitting to Turikana's left, giving her husband a reproving look as she asked Masterson, "But there's still no evidence of who or what left those traces, is there, Doctor?"