Surefoot 09: Rising Star

Yeager nodded to the planet. "But the crew on that ship out there aren't among them. They're traitors to humanity. They deserve to die. They willingly embrace hate."

The shuttle grew silent.

Then Soolamea pointed out, "And what are you doing?"

Yeager never responded.

*

The first thing Jonas realised when they had finally stopped was that he had wet himself a little, but ignored it under the circumstances, content to be grateful for the absorbent properties of Starfleet uniforms. His limbs, his whole body shook as he fidgeted with his harness, looking to Nika, who looked equally shaken but forcing her body to move. He had to swallow several times to make his voice work. "I'm- I'm assuming we're not dead-"

In the front row, Rrori was slowly rising and helping his assistants. "I hope not. I expect the Afterlife to have more furred females in constant Season."

Jonas rose up, looked at Nika, and shamelessly embraced her, not caring who was watching. She hugged him back - but then pulled away, a mask of professionalism in place once more. "Marco, run the post-flight safety checks, secure any potential fuel leaks. Noel, what's our status?"

The boy coughed and helped himself up. "Colonel, we- we landed near the coordinates of Survey Site 4, on the edge of the Northern Continent. The fuselage appears intact... though we are no longer spaceworthy. We have also alerted Hasim in the Shuttlepod, and he is on his way, ETA 3 hours."

"Good. Jonas and I will check the rest of the crew and the capsules - the capsules will start automatically reviving the occupants following the crash landing - and meet you outside." She took Jonas by the hand and led him out, stopping once out of view to kiss and hold him again, Jonas returning the fervour, before they reluctantly parted.

The others in her crew had survived unharmed, and the capsules were intact, including apparently Golov's, though there were no indications that it was reviving the same as the others. Now Nika looked pale. "There is something wrong with his capsule. We tried to revive him long before, but there are multiple security features in place, and we were afraid of making a mistake and... and he ended up like the others."

He nodded. "I can have a look at it, see what's wrong."

"Thank you, perhaps later. But now we must go outside, see the others."

*

This part of the planet was temperate to cool, with wide fields thickly carpeted in tall wildgrass, reminding Jonas of the Canadian plains where he had taken an initial Starfleet survival course. Now, however, he could see the plain here had been cut in half by a kilometres-long trench dug by the Rising Star as it landed. The gravity was slightly lighter than Earth-normal, the air drier and thinner, and groups of gaunt, green-winged birds circled and swooped in the aquamarine sky, alerting the rest of the planet to the new arrivals.

Jonas stood by Rrori and watched the shock, the wonderment of Nika and her crew as they marvelled at standing on another planet for the first time, something he realised he took for granted. He wanted to join them, but accepted that this was also a significant moment for the group, and remained content to watch them hug, laugh and talk excitedly.

Rrori folded his arms across his chest. "Hmph. No thanks for the ones who helped them land?"

"Everyone made it safely." Jonas pointed out. "That's thanks enough."

"For you, perhaps - but then you did get some personal gratitude from the Pretty Colonel, didn't you?"

Jonas glared at him, but then a set of bright lights caught his eye, and he turned to see a series of transporter energy columns appearing in places surrounding the Rising Star crew. Jonas recognise the figures as they fully coalesced: Lt. Abed, Neraxis, Thykrill and the rest of the Primary and Secondary Security specialists.

But he focused on one familiar figure: Captain Hrelle, this time in uniform and sporting a tail again - and a phaser in his hand. "Everyone! Drop your weapons, hands in the air!"

The young people were startled - for a moment, before tightening their circle, moving the unarmed members towards the centre, while those with pistols, including Nika, moved to the outer edges, Nika declaring, "Aliens! It's a trap! They've trapped us!"

They were raising their weapons.

"NO!" Jonas strode forward, ignoring the weapons pointed at him as he approached Hrelle. "Sir, lower your phaser!"

Hrelle tensed, aware of the young man getting in the line of fire. "Jonas, get out of the way!"

"No, Sir! Please-"

"Where's Maxim Golov?"

"Is that it?" a disbelieving voice asked behind him. He turned to see the angry, anguished face of Nika. "Everything you've said, everything you've done, it's just to get Golov? It's all been a lie?"

"No!" He turned back to Hrelle. "Captain, order everyone to lower their weapons! Trust me! Please! I know what I'm doing!"

Hrelle regarded him for a moment - and then lowered his phaser arm. "Lt. Abed, all of you: do as he says. No one take any aggressive action - unless fired upon first." His gaze narrowed on Jonas. "Okay, Mr Ostrow, it's your show."

"Thank you, Sir." He turned back to Nika and the others. "My shipmates are not your enemy. Their weapons are set on stun! They mean none of you any harm!"

"They followed us here!" Someone else accused. "To finish what they started on Earth!"

"They didn't start anything!" Jonas insisted. "No so-called Aliens did! All of the attacks, the bombings, the outbreaks, they were orchestrated by Golov!"

"You lie!"

"No! It's true! He did it, to turn Earthpeople against the rest of the Galaxy!"

"Why?" Nika asked. Not a denial, a question.

Jonas saw grasped the concession. "He was losing money over the years. Peace was killing the arms business, and more advanced extraterrestrial technology was being adopted on Earth. He refused to adopt the new ideals everyone else was embracing; he wanted to cling to the old ways. So he hired mercenaries and terrorists to commit acts of death and destruction, and used his media outlets to foment hate and fear."

"No!" someone else called out. "Earth was conquered-"

"No," Jonas countered calmly. "Earth was saved. Because we put aside our old ways of thinking, we've eliminated war, poverty, disease, crime. No one goes without food, clothing, shelter, education, medicine. We have more energy than we can ever use, and machines that can convert that energy into just about anything we need. And we did it not in spite of other races, but because of them." He indicated his shipmates. "These are not monsters. They're not creatures. They're not threats. They're people."

"No!"

"Yes. They may look and sound different to humans, but they're still people." He drew closer to Hrelle. "This is my Captain. He's Caitian, like my friend Rrori - who saved all our lives, I'll remind you - and yes, they have tails and claws and fur, but they also like fried foods and sunbathing and jokes and dancing and families." He paused and breathed in. "Captain Hrelle married a human woman, helped raise a human daughter... and he's been the closest thing to a father that many of us have ever known. Myself included."

Jonas shifted closer to Neraxis. "This is my friend Neraxis, a Bolian. She's blue, bald, and has caustic blood, but she's also big sister to eight siblings, eats the food off my plate without asking, farts and blames me for it, and embarrasses with me with dirty jokes."

He moved to the others. "And this is my friend Thykrill. She's Andorian, and she looks fierce, but she writes poetry in her spare time, and her father is the most amazing, respected philosopher on her planet. And that's Gleqom Orogg, he's Saurian, he plays the guitar and when he drinks carbonated juice too quickly his hiccups sound like a puppy on helium. And this is Eydiir, a Capellan, a good friend of mine, and a member of a warrior race, but she's chosen to become a medic, and fight to save lives. And that's Lt. Abed - human, like me.

And there's so many more. We all work together. As members of Starfleet. As members of the Federation. You can join us-"

"No!" One of Nika's people, a young man Jonas remembered being called Marco, stepping forward, pointing his pistol at Jonas' head. "We- We have to protect humanity-"

"This isn't what humanity is, Marco," Jonas told him, drawing calmly, carefully closer. "Fearing the unknown. Fearing the different. Embracing hate. Prepared to kill. That's not us. Not any more." He held out his open hand. "And it doesn't have to be you, either. Any of you.

Put down your guns."

Marco wavered, looked to Nika, as did Jonas.

Nika holstered her gun.

Marco did the same. And the others followed.

And Jonas had to fight to keep from fainting with relief.

"What about Mr Golov?" someone had asked.

Jonas looked to his Captain for input, but the Caitian raised a finger to his muzzle.

Then his attention returned to Nika, who looked around her people and said, "There is a problem with Mr Golov's capsule. We'll revive the others first, and discuss what to do with him. Jonas, will your crew provide us with information devices to help prove what you say?"

Jonas almost said yes - then realised he had no authority to do that, and looked back at Hrelle, who smiled and nodded.

*

More people were coming back to life as the sun began to set; Captain Hrelle had ordered rations and temporary shelters and beds beamed down, after beaming up those injured in the initial explosion in the battery room. Those awakening panicked at first on seeing the non-human Starfleet crew, but Jonas, Nika and others did their best to reassure them, and embraced the protocols that had been drummed into them before the launch.

As night appeared, lights were set up outside, as Jonas went inside the ship and worked to diagnose the problem with Golov's capsule, Nika returning every so often, ostensibly to keep an eye on him. "Well?"

He was on his back, under a panel, his Engineering tricorder returned to him. "There are a lot of failsafes and safety features in his capsule compared to the others. I think some of them have, ironically enough, failed, and need to be bypassed."

She paused before responding. "Is it true? What you said out there? That he was responsible? Not the Aliens?"

He paused and drew himself out to look up at her; the girl looked as exhausted as he felt. "Yes. I'm... I'm sorry, Nika."

"For what? Not telling me, in case it spoiled your chance for a fuck?"

His face tightened. "No. For you being deceived by him. It was hard enough trying to get you to trust me without giving you the full truth. And if you recall, you're the one who dragged me into your quarters. Without even buying me dinner first."

Her expression softened. "You are right. I am sorry, Jonas. I am worried."

"Worried? About what?"

She nodded towards the capsule. "That when he is awakened... my people will look to him, accept what he says he is, over what you and your Starfleet say he is. That he will be a lifeline to our past in the midst of an uncertain future. I believe you - you have proven yourself - and some of my crew believe you. But the others? Their last memories will be of Golov the Saviour of Humanity. They may embrace his leadership. If they do... I will not stay here."

"What will you do?"

She smiled mischievously - and then straddled his crotch, leaning forward over his face. "I will join your Starfleet, become an officer in record time, and then be your superior. I will keep you confined to our quarters, naked, and at the ready to service me when I please-"

Hrelle filled up the doorway. "We should sign you up, Colonel."

Nika immediately leapt off of Jonas and rose to her feet, Jonas struggling more as he stammered, "C-Captain! We were just discussing matters-"

"Yes, I often discuss matters like that with my wife. Just not usually in public, Mr Ostrow." He looked at the capsule. "Golov is in there?"

"Yes, Sir."

Hrelle nodded. "Colonel, did I hear correctly, that you are less than pleased with the prospect of his being awakened?"

Nika looked uneasy at even addressing the Caitian, and probably still embarrassed at being caught on top of Jonas, but she recovered remarkably. "You are right, Captain."

"Well, I've asked the Federation Judiciary Council to see if we should take Golov into custody and try him for his past crimes. When I receive an answer, I would like you there - I would also like to invite you and your people for a tour of our ship."

Nika considered his words, and nodded again. "Yes, I will be there. Thank you."

Now Hrelle looked to Jonas. "We're retrieving the Sureswift, and Cadets Soolamea and Yeager. Mr Ostrow, you and Mr Rrori are to report to Sickbay for a mandatory checkup. Then get some food and rest."

But Jonas shook his head. "I'm fine, Sir, I want to keep helping out here."

Hrelle's eyes and voice was warm - but firm. "It wasn't a suggestion, Jonas. Don't worry, tomorrow you'll be back down to continue your discussions with the Colonel."

Jonas almost argued back - until Nika drew up to him and kissed him on the cheek, almost as a defiant gesture to his commanding officer. "Go, my hero. I will see you tomorrow."

He nodded, gathered his equipment and started for the beam-out point, though not without Hrelle quipping, "We'll talk later, My Hero."

*

USS Surefoot, Deck 4, Sickbay:

The relief from defusing the situation on the surface had passed, and now Jonas was exhausted, and impatient, and hungry, and wanted to be anywhere else, doing anything else, than be there getting examined by one of Dr Ling's nurses, before they moved onto the more serious cases in the adjoining sections.

But then Alpha Squad, minus Eydiir, who was still performing security and medical duties on the planet, and Commander T'Varik entered, Neraxis striding up to him and slapping him on the back. "There's our little Scrappy! See, this is what happens when you go off with no chaperone!"

Sasha was grinning. "Good to see you back in one piece, Jonas, we were worried sick about you."

Kitirik's reptilian throat folds were flushed with a bright red. "Indeed, Good Friend Jonas, if your experiences have unsettled you, we can talk about it-"

"Yes," he responded, feeling his whole body tense. "Thanks."

"Our boy, unsettled?" Rrori spoke up, drawing near. "As a matter of fact, our young hero here was at the receiving end of some intimate feminine company from the captain of the Rising Star. And remarkably, without my assistance, either."

Jonas shot the Caitian a furious look, as their friends made exclamation sounds, or merely looked confused without further details on hand, which Jonas most certainly was not in the mood to supply them with at that time.

But they'd learn. Just like everyone onboard this ship would learn everything about him, every little detail no matter how intimate, with nothing to keep to himself, for himself, not even for a few minutes. Because he was the favourite subject of conversation onboard the Surefoot, and no doubt he would be in front of Kami, having to explain and decipher and analyse it all once again.

And suddenly, he hated her. He hated them all.

"If I might interrupt," T'Varik said without apology. "Regulations require that the occupants of the Sureswift must provide a mission report within the next 24 hours, compiled without consultation with each other. You will also need to attend a session with Counselor Shall."

"Well, there's a surprise," Jonas muttered, staring at the carpet. "Can't even get through a full day without seeing that bitch."

The Vulcan, and the others, turned to look at him curiously, the First Officer asking formally, "Is there a problem, Mr Ostrow?"

"Commander, request permission to return to the planet."

"Your purpose being?"

"To ensure the Rising Star crew is being taken care of."

"I am certain we have personnel who can manage in your absence, Cadet."

"Don't worry, my young friend," Rrori assured him, drawing closer and chuckling. "We'll make sure you get some quality time with Nika before we leave."

"Nika?" Neraxis teased. "So that's the name of the hussy who's stolen my little brother's virtue?" She tried to put an arm around him.

He smacked it away, glaring. "I'm not your little brother." He then looked at Rrori. "I'm not your sad friend who needs help to get laid." He stopped at T'Varik, his voice raised to a shout. "And I'm not a mental patient who needs to see the fucking Counselor!"

The Vulcan visibly drew up her steely reserve. "The Counseling session is mandatory for all personnel who have participated in an Away Mission where Red Alert conditions have been met, Mr Ostrow, and is not indicative of your current mental state. Which seems uncharacteristically volatile now."

Jonas bit back his instinctive reply, refused to acknowledge the shocked, hurt look on the faces of Neraxis and his other friends. He swallowed and finally replied, "Please... excuse me, Commander. I have been awake for nearly a day, I'm tired, I'm hungry, I made a crash landing in an ancient starship, I've had guns pointed at me - and I have a report to compile that'll go into all of that in more detail. May I please make use of one of the Guest Quarters tonight, and be left alone... and undisturbed?"

T'Varik narrowed her eyes. "I will permit it. But I cannot guarantee that either the Captain or the Counselor - or both - will not stop by for at least a short visit."

"Yes, Ma'am. May I go now?"

She nodded.

"Jonas-" Sasha began.

He departed, not able to look at any of them.

Unable to tell them now just how close he was to resigning and leaving all of this, all of them, behind.

*

In fact, it had been nearly six hours of Jonas having a room, a sonic shower, a clothes recycler and food replicator and his own thoughts to himself before the door chimed. He was showered, fed, in fresh clothes, and halfway through completing his report when he rose from the desk and called out, "Enter."

The door slid open, and Hrelle entered, smiling, hands folded behind him, as if supporting his swishing new tail. "Hello again, Jonas. Am I disturbing you? I'll go if you like-"

"N-No! I mean, no, Sir. Please, come in." He swallowed, self-consciously putting away the food tray and kicking aside his boots and socks. "Sorry about the mess, Sir."

"I'm not here for an inspection. Just a short, friendly, informal talk." He indicated the bed. "How are you?"

Jonas found himself fidgeting as he sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm, ah, feeling better than when I came onboard, Sir." He wrung his hands, stopping as his knuckles cracked. "Guess you heard about what happened in Sickbay."

"I'm here because a member of my crew was in a dangerous situation, one he should never have been put in. But yes, I heard something about you referring to my wife in less than complimentary terms."

Jonas was certain his face developed new shades of redness. "I'm sorry, Sir, I swear-"

"I know you do," he joked. "So, she's a bitch, huh?"

He rose to his feet again, almost panicking. "Please, Sir! I didn't mean it-"

"Sit down again." Hrelle grabbed a chair, swung it around and sat on it backwards, resting his crossed arms on its back as he sat close, facing him. "Don't worry, I won't be challenging you to a duel to defend Kami's honour. For one thing, she's far tougher than either of us and could kick both our asses, furry and otherwise, without breaking a sweat." He looked concerned. "What do you think that brought that out of you?"

He stared at the man's boots. "Sir... I'm so incredibly grateful to the Counselor for all the help she's given me, pulling me back from the edge and helping me to cope. I can never repay her for that."

Hrelle tilted his head. "But?"

Jonas looked up again wearily. "But... I'm tired of talking about myself. I'm tired of opening up. Twice-weekly and weekly sessions, Survivor sessions, group sessions. I'm tired of talking about how I feel, how others make me feel, how others feel about me. You took the monitor out of my arm, but I still feel like I'm under constant scrutiny, even by myself. I feel like... like-"