Surefoot 88: Arcana

But for your own sake, I suggest you be ready to leave at any time. That station of yours will soon fall into our hands... or just fall. If you're smart, you'll assist us, save yourself as well as your family, and maybe give up this pathetic dream of life among the kafirlirs and return to the open, loving arms of your family and people." He chuckled. "And if you're a good little girl, I might keep you around, and have a piece of what you've been serving Hrelle."

Her jaw tightened. "If we meet in the flesh... you won't walk away. I'll kill you. Like I killed the last Orion cuksir who thought he had power over me."

Surinh Dag grunted, unintimidated. "I know about Hazaak Sur. He was a fool. I'm not. Be back here at 0815 Hours with the newest Code."

His image vanished.

Zir's stomach twisted into knots, threatening to bring up her last meal, and she forced herself over onto her couch. Oh Gods, what was she going to do? Even if the Commodore and Counselor were aware of what was happening, how could they rescue her family? And what about the attack on the Counselor tonight? Did it have anything to do with it, or was it just a terrible coincidence? And how did Surinh dag know whenever she was alone in her quarters? Where did he get that subspace technology? Too many questions, and she wasn't smart or confident enough to find any answers-

Her door chimed, and she bolted to her feet, her heart skipping a beat. "Yes?"

The door responded by sliding open, revealing the figure of the new Intelligence Officer, Commander Somerset, the older Terran male standing formally outside. "Leftenant Dassene, forgive me for disturbing you at this late hour, but you left before I could speak with you."

She straightened up; he was new, literally arriving a few hours ago, but had already proven to be a more than competent officer, and seemed to have earned the respect of the Commodore, someone who Zir knew had a chequered past with other members of Starfleet Intelligence. "That's okay, Sir, I have some tasks to perform for Commodore Hrelle, so technically I'm still on-duty. How may I help you?"

"I have a task of my own to perform for the Commodore: he believes an imposter of Counselor Hrelle was active after the real one had retired for the evening at 1800 Hours. I am making enquiries among the senior officers, before widening my search parameters."

She frowned at the idea. Could it be true? That timeframe- was the Counselor she'd seen earlier, before the attack, be this imposter? But why? Just to convince her to cooperate with Surinh Dag's demands? She wouldn't put it past him... but the threat to her family was real enough.

"Leftenant," Somerset continued curiously. "Is there something wrong?"

She glanced around her quarters; there must be something in there, perhaps secretly monitoring her. How else could Surinh Dag know to visit when she was alone?

Could she trust this stranger she hardly knew? What if he was a Bel-Zon operative?

She had to speak to someone. Someone with authority. And the Commodore was far too distracted with his wife.

She brought her finger to her lips, a gesture she knew many humans recognised, and hoped that Somerset would be among them.

He regarded her with a raised eyebrow, but then noted, "Leftenant, it's obvious you're still angry over our earlier disagreement tonight, and I would like to repay you. Would you care to join me at the Starjammers Cafe for a late night coffee? And perhaps you can tell me a bit more about yourself? I'm sure you have an interesting story to tell."

Argument? What- Oh. "Yes, thank you, Commander, it's going to be a long night, and I think I can do with some caffeine."

*

Boladede groaned, wincing as he tried to open his eyes but found the light too bright. Then he felt a hypospray press against his neck, and the pain eased immediately. Leaving him lying wherever he was, with an awareness that he was alive, knowing that the dead would not feel the way he did now.

He heard the voice of Commander Haluk speak coldly. "Is he conscious enough to be aware of what we're saying, Nurse?"

A young woman - Chief Nurse Eydiir, Boladede instantly recognised - replied, "Yes, Commander. And the physical damage inflicted upon him, by Misha Hrelle and by his own actions, has been fully repaired, and is part of the Arraignment report."

"Thank you, Nurse. Open your eyes, Mr Boladede. Demonstrate a minimum of courage."

The young cadet opened his eyes and sat up on his elbows, taking in the room: Haluk and Eydiir stood there, alongside Lt Cmdr Salvo, a young bronze-skinned, snow-haired Efrosian male with Lieutenant Commander's pips, and an older, sober-looking Denobulan female, the last two of which he didn't recognise. Two station Security crewmen stood on either side of the door to the room.

"Cadet Ange Boladede," Haluk proceeded, "As you will no doubt have concluded already by your continued existence, your attempt at suicide failed; the power cell in your weapon was depleted enough only to deliver a light stun." He looked to his left. "Mr Maraud?"

The Efrosian stepped forward. "Mr Boladede, I am Lt Cmdr Xan Maraud, the station's Judge Advocate General Officer. I am here to inform you that you are under arrest for the attempted murder of Chief Counselor Kami Hrelle, in violation of Article 118 of the Starfleet Code of Military Justice. There will be a formal arraignment tomorrow at 1600 Hours, following an assessment by a qualified Counselor - Doctor Bas Vestri here, assigned to the USS Katana - of your fitness for trial, and a meeting with your appointed legal counsel to prepare and advise you.

Until then, I am obliged to instruct you that you have the right to remain silent, the right to submit only evidence that is relevant to the accusation, and the right not to have unlawfully obtained evidence used against you in court. Can you please verbally acknowledge that you understand these rights, Cadet?"

Boladede kept his gaze on the wall past all of them, clearing his throat to reply, "I do."

Haluk responded. "In the meantime, Lt Cmdr Salvo is investigating an ongoing security incident peripherally connected to your actions. Lt Cmdr Hrelle filed a statement regarding your apprehension, reporting that you allegedly indicated to her that Counselor Hrelle had approached you and made statements regarding you. We believe this was some form of imposter sowing disorder. Further evidence is being gathered, but your input into this matter would be valuable."

Boladede controlled his visible reaction to the news. He had assumed that Sasha's story to him when she found him had been a ruse, to get him to surrender. Could it be true? Had some outside force goaded him, manipulated him into doing what he did?

Had he nearly killed an innocent woman?

Had he thrown away his career, his life?

What had he done?

"Mr Boladede," Maraud added, "I am obliged to confirm for you that at this time, prior to the arraignment and your assessment by Counselor Vestri, anything you may say that might potentially incriminate yourself during your court martial will not be admissible, but in fact your cooperation towards resolving this will be taken into account-"

He refused to look at any of them. "It was her, Lieutenant Commander; I will attest to that, and you will not convince me otherwise. She appeared at my quarters at 1945 Hours. She told me that our earlier meeting had been a sham, that I never had a hope of remaining in Starfleet. She humiliated me. She tormented me." Anger suffused him as he recalled the memory, and he finally looked up at all of them. "I know what you are trying to do: by claiming she is not responsible for what happened to her, you make my justifiable response appear more criminal."

"That doesn't require help from any of us," Eydiir sneered.

Boladede looked away now. "I invoke my right to remain silent."

From the corner of his eye, he saw Vestri step forward. "I believe you have obtained what you needed. Let me have some time with him now."

*

Hrelle suppressed another yawn, and the urge to down more coffee, as he sat at the head of his conference table; he had at least managed to set aside his guilt at leaving Kami, as she'd fallen back into a much-needed, much-envied sleep.

Even if it meant facing further complications to the current crisis. "Surinh Dag? You're certain it was him?"

Nearest him at the table, Zir's olive skin darkened, and her scent altered with guilt and embarrassment. "Yes, Sir. I... I remember seeing him when I was younger, hosting the... shows he would present to the Orion people."

"Shows?" Salvo asked, bemused.

"Deathmatches," Hrelle clarified briskly, trying not to show how rattled he was at the news. "What Lt Dassene is being unnecessarily coy about for my benefit, is that Surinh Dag was a former Orion Gamesmaster, who organised and broadcast armed and unarmed fights to the death, and kept a large stable of gladiatorial slaves... of which I was one of them. One of the best, in fact; they called me the Beast, a moniker I well earned." He focused on Zir now. "Perhaps you're afraid I might panic about having him resurface from my past.

Don't. Right now, he's the one who should be panicking.

Are you certain he has your family?"

Zir nodded. "Yes, Sir. He let me speak with my father, and I'm certain of him. But I have no contacts left with Orion Prime since I fled years ago, so I can't verify it."

"I have some," Somerset declared, "And I've sent some discreet transmissions there already. And I have confirmed that there is a hidden device in Lt Dassene's quarters, that we've covertly scanned: a booster receptor for the isomorphic communication, and a sensor to confirm whenever the Leftenant is present, and alone."

"Can we trace the signal to wherever they're holding the hostages?"

"We've refined the station's long-range sensors," Sternhagen reported, "Based on what we learned from that device. The next transmission from them should give us that opportunity."

"Commodore," Salvo interjected, "The next transmission, this Surinh Dag cur will be expecting the next Command Code from you. If they gain that, they can override our systems, even initiate the self-destruction protocols."

"She's right, Sir," Zir agreed, looking anguished but still resolute. "As much as I want to save my family, it won't be at the price of any more innocent lives."

"It won't be," Hrelle agreed, "Because it won't happen. We have one advantage over them: they don't know yet that we know about them. We can place hidden secondary safeguards within our network to alert us to any use of the Command Codes before they're allowed to be implemented. Also, I doubt if they'll launch any kind of attack in the next few hours, not with their boss Zorin being brought here.

So, at 0815 Hours, Lt Dassene will return to her quarters, provide Surinh Dag with the latest Command Code, we trace the signal, and launch a rescue."

"It'll be tricky," Weynik offered, "But we might get the Katana up and running in time for that, Commodore."

"Thank you, Captain, but while I want you to get back out there as soon as possible, it's to join the rest of Sabre Squadron One, to be ready for whatever the Bel-Zon are preparing for us; I think that whatever they're doing, it'll be soon. No, the rescue will be carried out with Lt Cmdr Hrelle's flyer, the Tailless." He looked at Sasha, who had been pensive at the end of the table since they'd left Kami together to attend this meeting. "You'll be in command, put together a small team, take anyone you need... I recommend including Lt Dassene."

As Sasha nodded to that, Somerset spoke up. "Forgive me, Commodore, but would a private flyer be adequate to confront whatever forces the Orion might muster?"

"It's no ordinary flyer, Commander," Sasha informed him, "It's equipped with many little extra features, mostly secret and illegal, from my grandmother, Ma'Sala Shall, current First Minister of Cait, and former Head of the Caitian Secret Service. Do I need to say any more?"

Somerset raised an eyebrow at the name, clearly recognising it. "You most certainly do not, Leftenant Commander. I'll just sit here in a pool of my own envy."

Hrelle looked back at Zir. "I wish I can guarantee that we'll retrieve them, safe and sound. All I can guarantee is that we'll do everything we can for them."

The young Orion woman nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Commodore. I swear I'll repay you for all of this."

"Don't talk about repayment, I'm shit at maths. And we have other issues on paw right now: this business with the alleged duplicate of my wife."

"I believe we can confirm that a duplicate exists, Sir," Somerset concluded, "Based on interviews with Lt Cmdr Hrelle, Lt Dassene, and personnel who were on duty in the Hospital and off-duty in Tarot, Counselor Hrelle was seen and interacted with. And examining the logs on the entertainment station in your quarters, I can confirm that the real Counselor was at home at these times. And the fact that we have other sightings of other people acting strangely suggests that the imposter has the ability to assume other forms."

"A Changeling?" Sternhagen conjectured with alarm. "I thought they all had to return to the Gamma Quadrant as part of the Treaty of Bajor?"

"Assuming they could be trusted to comply," Salvo muttered dourly.

"And what would they have to gain from causing chaos here?" Weynik asked. "What would that gain the Dominion to want to see the Counselor hurt?"

"There are other shapeshifting individuals besides the Changelings," Somerset pointed out. "Suliban mercenaries, Chameloids, the Cult of Garth, and there's those employing technological gimmicks such as holosuits-"

"In the meantime," Hrelle interrupted, "We'll escalate to General Quarters Four: complete lockdown except for essential personnel, redundant security checks at every juncture and level.

Then we institute a Changeling Sweep, using Starfleet protocols established during the Dominion War: sweeping top to tail, every room, every Jefferies Tube, toilet and closet, using phaser compression rifles. Captain Weynik and Lt Cmdr Salvo will lead the two sweep teams.

Alongside this, we'll be running ID checks on every individual encountered, collating the data in real-time with internal bio- and environmental sensors, communications, duty logs and the combadge locator network to look for anomalies." He tapped on the tabletop with a foreclaw. "When the Surefoot operated as an ambulance ship during the War, Ensign Stalac proved to be ideal at the collation of massive amounts of data on the incoming wounded, because of the unique structure of his Horta brain. Have an Engineering Team set up an interface for him like we had on the Surefoot."

"Sounds like a plan," Weynik noted. "But how do you know one of us isn't the shapeshifter right now?"

"Because except for Commander Somerset, I know all of you intimately-"

"I hope Kami doesn't get jealous," Sternhagen quipped.

"-And that I've run my own personal ID and sensor check of our new Intelligence Officer, a small-scale version of the audit I want to run during the Sweep." He returned to Sternhagen. "What's the status of the rest of the sector?"

She reached for her PADD with one hand and her coffee with the other. "Captain Neheru on the Tangshan is following up on reports of sightings of Kzinti ships slipping across the border near Nepenthe; the Prospero is moving to rendezvous and plan a coordinated search - and hopefully not an attack - operation. Captain T'Varik on the Surefoot confirms the ceasefire with the Paserak seems to be holding, and the aid is continuing to be provided to those who were attacked by parties as-yet unconfirmed. Captain Blum on the Ulynaov reports an increase in traffic from Zorin Interstellar ships to that new project facility of theirs, they still haven't worked out what is being built, but are sending their accumulated data to us for analysis."

She paused for another sip of coffee. "And the al-Razi should be here in fourteen hours with their Very Important Putzes; Captain Arrington offered to take them back to the Moonraker, but apparently Zorin insisted that he come here... to thank you personally for all the hard work you've done here."

Weynik snorted at that.

Hrelle suppressed his own derision. You're finally coming to get the measure of me, eh, Zorin? Tired of hiding in the shadows? "I want our current crises dealt with before their arrival, if possible; if I'm going to have a pissing contest with someone, I'll want to have time to take a shower and wash my piece."

"Classy, Dad," Sasha smirked.

"Are we not going to arrest Zorin and his ilk for their criminal involvement in the Bel-Zon activities?" Salvo demanded.

"We have no evidence of his involvement," Somerset reminded her. "Yet."

"Let's focus on the more immediate threats," Hrelle ordered, rising. "I want the Sweep initiated within the hour. Dismissed... except for Lt Cmdr Hrelle."

Sasha sat there, staring at him, while the rest filed out. He waited until the door slid shut before he walked around to her. "Will you be okay handling this mission?"

She frowned as she rose to her feet. "Jesus, I'm not drunk, Dad!"

He raised a conciliatory paw to her, his voice gentle. "I'm not asking because of that... I'm asking because I've been where you've been, when I've stumbled, and I've given in to my own demons, and knocked myself back to Day One. And I remember how it left me unsure of myself. What if it happened again? How could I trust myself, let alone anyone else trust me?" He reached out, took her hand in his paw and drew her into an embrace. "I trust you, Sasha. One hundred percent. And I love you. One gazillion percent."

She made a sound against his chest. "A gazillion percent? You really are shit at maths, aren't you?" She sighed, hugged him back, and then announced, "I want to take Mru with me on this mission, he's most experienced handling the controls of the Tailless. Who will watch Misha and Sreen?"

"I'll handle that. And then later, we'll talk about names for my grandcub."

"Shut up, or the name'll be Grandpa's-An-Asshole Hrelle."

*

Guest Quarters 47:

"This is intolerable!" Turai Kaldron declared for the twentieth time.

Or so his mother, Battle Major Nanda Kaldron, believed, having lost count. The massive pachydermoid, having divested herself of her armour plates and the rest of her uniform, knelt on the floor in meditation... or at least, attempted meditation, her children keeping her too distracted, Turai with his pacing and complaining, Gaia with her attempts to navigate the station's computer network to scry more information about the current alert status on Salem One. They had been locked in here for hours, since the alert announcement regarding medical and security teams being summoned to the Commodore's quarters.

Turai punched his huge fist into his huge open, waiting hand. "This is some conspiracy! A deception, designed to keep us imprisoned here!"

"Why?" Nanda said, more a challenge than a question.

He faced her. "To keep us from rescuing my Baby Brother from their enforced servitude! This is-"

"If you say this is intolerable once more, I'll box your ears." She helped herself back to her feet, rolling her neck to work out her muscles. "Urad does not need our 'rescue'. Love, support, encouragement, yes, all that. But not rescue."

Gaia turned in her seat by the desk computer to face the others. "Then why keep us locked up? Unable to communicate with Urad or Hrelle or our ship, or inform us of what's happening?"

"Because we are in the midst of a security alert, Bottlehead. Were we to instigate such actions, we would be blocking movement and communication as well. Calm down, both of you. My baby is in safe hands here."