Surefoot 42 Clandestine

USS

Surefoot-A

, Deck 2 Fore, Senior Officers' Quarters, Stardate 50320.6:

Commander T'Varik knelt on the meditation mat in the centre of her quarters, focusing on the single candle in the stand before her, its steady illumination failing to assist her in achieving the desired level of serenity.

No. No, it was only logical to accept that, at this stage, there was only one means of attaining what she craved, short of medication. And that means of attainment was currently 4.895 minutes late-

The door to the quarters slid open, the rush of cool incoming air from the corridor blowing out the candle but the accompanying light revealing the lithe, muscular, tailed figure that entered, commanding, "Computer: lock the door."

T'Varik felt more than heard the slight buzz on the door as it locked, as C'Rash slipped out of her jacket. With the candle out, there was only light from the nearby workstation, but it was more than enough for both of them, as the Caitian's sibilant tones filled the silence. "Sorry for the delay, one of the cadets hurt himself making a tricky move in Suus Mahna, and I wanted to make sure he got to Sickbay-"

"I do not require apologies from you," T'Varik announced hoarsely, giving up on seeking balance through fractal geometry calculation. It was inefficacious, and the presence of her lover, someone T'Varik admittedly would never have conceived of as a potential partner several years ago, remained exigent in her mind.

"Oh." C'Rash stepped back to face the Vulcan, dropping into a close crouch that was second nature to her people, her coal-furred skin bristling, her muzzle and tail twitching with interest as she sniffed the air. "I take it your change of scent means you're fully into your Ponn Farr? You timed our weekend leave with your usual precision-"

"I do not require the obvious from you either," she informed her tersely, feeling unaccustomed beads of sweat running down the sides of her head, struggling to drop down onto the collar of her black meditation robes.

"Is that right?" C'Rash replied, sounding more amused than offended, as she leaned in closer, her own scent reaching T'Varik's nostrils now, her breath a hot caress on the Vulcan's face. "No apologies, no obvious statements. What

do

you require from me, lover?"

T'Varik reached up swiftly, grabbing C'Rash by her undershirt as she returned to her feet, flinging the Caitian onto their bed.

C'Rash bounced on the mattress, growling hungrily.

Barely a heartbeat later, the Red Alert klaxon sounded.

Both women stopped, but for once it was T'Varik who cursed, loudly and in an improvised mix of Klingon, Orion and Terran languages, her native tongue ill-equipped for graphic imprecation.

"We're on leave, Pottymouth," the Caitian reminded her. "We don't have to-"

But already T'Varik was moving to the desk intercom, quickly recovering her faculties before speaking. "Bridge, what is happening?"

Her Captain's voice came through loud and clear over the sirens. "

Distress signal from the USS

Oberon

at the edge of the Sherman system, some sort of subspace rift has caught catastrophic systems failure, they're abandoning ship and fleeing in shuttles and escape pods. We're on our way to intercept."

After a moment he added, "

We don't need either of you for this."

T'Varik's face tightened, remembering that Captain Hrelle would no doubt be aware of the reasons behind her unaccustomed request for extended time off-duty, being the commanding officer. She knew she had been due for her next Pon Farr, of course -- her many biological cycles were meticulous -- but she had anticipated that C'Rash and she could... manage this... without having to leave the ship and interrupt their respective duties overmuch.

This emergency, however, had proved that C'Rash's earlier suggestion of taking their leave on Sherman's Planet had been the more sound one, and a further example of T'Varik's diminished capacities.

She raised her voice and declared, "What is our ETA?"

"

Just over an hour, Commander. But like I said, we don't need-"

"Lt Shall and I will be back on duty at that time."

After a moment, at which time she calculated an approximate 98.75% probability that he was silently consulting Kami Hrelle, his wife and Counselor, he responded with, "

Okay, but if you change your mind-

"

"T'Varik out."

As she turned back towards C'Rash, the Caitian looked to her with concern. "Are you sure?"

The Vulcan used her remaining rationality to compute required time to complete the task at hand, dress and walk- no, run -- to the Bridge, and peruse the latest incident reports on their fellow Starfleet vessel. It was not ideal, but it would be sufficient.

She tore her robes as she pulled them over her head and leapt onto the bed.

*

T'Varik's plans went as she expected -- almost. It was only after reporting to the Bridge with C'Rash and recommencing their duties that she noticed the distracted looks she was receiving from Hrelle, and understood: she did not take time for a sonic shower, and his superior Caitian olfactory senses were reacting to the... scents of her recent carnal activity.

But fortunately he quickly engaged a professional attitude as they relayed information on the

Oberon

situation, before he repaired to the Shuttlebay to personally oversee the rescue and medical operations.

His penchant for maintaining a physical presence at such times was, at first, baffling to T'Varik, who believed it served more a personal need of his to be 'doing something'. But quickly she understood that his presence proved to be emotionally reassuring for the younger crewmembers and cadets, as well as a convenient authority figure who could respond to the unexpected there more quickly than by calling the Bridge. He could be quite logical... in his own roundabout way.

She sat in his chair and let her mind focus itself once more following her temporary hormonal realignment. She had been in Starfleet for 28.42 years, 92.54% of which had been spent at Starfleet Academy on Earth, as an instructor, administrator and Academy Liaison to the cadets. Until the Advanced Work Experience program was initiated, she had possessed no desire for commanding a starship and crew, but thought that she was sufficiently educated and informed enough to be able to adapt to the role very effectively.

She had been proven wrong. And, as trite as it might have sounded if spoken aloud, she had to admit that she was not too old to stop learning-

Hrelle's hail from the Shuttlebay interrupted her from her thoughts. "

Commander, what's the status on the subspace instability in the area around the

Oberon

wreckage?"

"One moment, Sir."

She looked over to the Science Station, where Kemra roi Grehk, the Science Cadet for Beta Squad, a young Tellarite female, glanced over her shoulder and reported, "The area around the wreckage of the

Oberon

remains at 400-495 millicochranes declension, Commander."

T'Varik replayed Hrelle's voice, his tone and the content of his query, assessed the most probable reason for his asking, and enquired from Grehk, "Does that mean that transporter activity and all but minimal scans will still be non-functional in its immediate area?"

"Yes, Commander."

"

Thanks,"

Hrelle noted, having listened in on the exchange. "

There's a civilian, a child, that's been left behind. I'm taking a shuttle over, so get C'Rash and a Security team down here to accompany-

oh, hey, Kit! I need a Science Specialist! I know you're not under my command anymore

but-"

The sibilant Qarari tones of former cadet Kitirik, onboard visiting former shipmates, came through the communicator channel. "

I would be honoured to assist, Most Respected Former Captain."

"Captain," T'Varik interjected, as she watched C'Rash silently depart the Bridge. "The Klingons have been detected in the immediate area, and we are still collecting-"

"

I know, I know, call Captain Weynik on the

Ajax

and tell him to meet us

there, we can't wait! And as soon as you've finished here, follow along! And thank you for not trying to get me not to go! Hrelle out!"

He closed the channel before she could reply, as if worried that she might still try to change his mind.

She noted the almost-imperceptible reaction from Grehk when Hrelle called on Kit to accompany him, and took 0.53 seconds to analyse the cause of it, while providing orders to others. "Helm, plot a course for the

Oberon

's last known position, be prepared to divert there once we have collected all of the survivors. Ensign Gorman, report to Tactical, you may be required if the Klingons reach the site first. Ops, contact the

Ajax

and request Captain Weynik's assistance immediately, and prepare Shuttlebay Operations for an emergency launch. Cadet Grehk?"

When the Tellarite turned in her chair to face the centre of the Bridge, T'Varik continued. "Regulations require the Captain to call upon the most experienced available Science Officer on hand for a critical mission such as this, and our Counselor and Chief Science Officer's expectant condition precludes her direct involvement, given the probable involvement of tetryon radiation. His choice of the visiting ensign should not be seen as a reflection on you. Your academic record is exemplary... as opposed to your face, which appears the stuff of nightmares."

Grehk grinned at the unexpected employment of Tellarite Banter from T'Varik, and replied, "Thank you, Commander. You are quite ugly yourself, if I might say."

"Thank you." As T'Varik faced forward again, she acknowledged that taking time to offer emotional support to a cadet would have been illogical before her assignment on the

Surefoot

. Granted, her duties on Earth involved hundreds of cadets per year, as opposed to the eighteen currently serving onboard this ship, but still-

"The shuttle

Sureswift

has launched, Commander," Neheru reported from Ops. "And the

Ajax

has confirmed it will rendezvous with the

Oberon

upon their arrival-"

Suddenly a new voice cut in over the intercom, one she recognised as their Chief Medical Officer, Doctor Masterson. "

Bridge! We need Commander T'Varik down here, right now!"

The Vulcan frowned, noting the anxiety in the man's voice, and opened the channel from her seat. "This is T'Varik, Doctor, what is the matter?"

"

One of the

Oberon

survivors is- well, he's here, and he demands to see you!"

"Is it urgent, Doctor?"

There were noises in the background of Sickbay, voices denoting alarm, confusion, but before she could enquire further, a new voice cut in: male, sharp. "

Commander T'Varik! You will report to your Sickbay immediately, or I will break this man's neck!"

T'Varik rose to her feet, as Masterson spoke again, chokingly. "

He- he means me, Ma'am-"

"I am on my way. Bridge out." She looked to Ensign Gorman, now at the Tactical station. "Send a security team to Sickbay, but ensure they do not enter until I arrive. Lt Neheru, you are in command, continue retrieval operations and proceed to the

Oberon

when ready."

*

The Security crewmen were waiting for her, as expected, allowing her to lead the way inside and find the majority of Medical staff who were not working on patients an audience of spectators looking towards the Isochamber in the rear of Sickbay, parting as T'Varik drew up.

Masterson was standing there, the tall, rugged-looking human looking pale and sweaty with a forearm wrapped around his throat, the forearm belonging to a taller, olive-skinned Vulcan male in a blue-topped uniform. The Vulcan tensed until she stopped where she was. "I am Commander T'Varik. Identify yourself."

The Vulcan looked over Masterson's shoulder at her, his eyes wide, darting around; pea-green blood was pouring down from a wound on the side of his head, onto his and the doctor's uniforms. "Lieutenant Commander Lonok, on special assignment to the USS

Oberon

."

Nearby, Chief Nurse Scarlo kept a wary eye on the scene as she reported, "Commander, he has a massive subdural haematoma. If we don't operate on him soon, he'll die-"

"NO!" the other Vulcan declared loudly, tightening his hold on the doctor. "No operation! It is not permitted!"

"Lieutenant Commander," T'Varik interjected calmly, capturing the patient's attention once more. "These people are not here to harm you. They are here to assist you. I am ordering you to release Doctor Masterson and submit to medical treatment."

"No! I- I will not!"

"Then why did you summon me? To wait and witness you succumb to your injuries?"

"No! I- I require an officer of Level 10 Security or higher- you- you are in the Fleet Register as one such- you must- bear witness-"

Then T'Varik understood. "You are a Starfleet Intelligence operative." She looked to the Security crewmen. "Stand outside, await further orders." To the others, she added, "Return to your duties. I will deal with this." Now she faced Masterson once more, explaining quietly, "Regulations prevent certain SI operatives to undergo any medical treatment except in the presence of others with equivalent security levels or higher."

The doctor breathed out, though he remained frightened-looking. "Y'all could have just said that at the start, dude."

T'Varik stepped forward. "I am here, as requested. It would be logical to release your hold on the man who will soon be attempting to save your life."

Lonok seemed to listen, to waver- but in reality he was passing out. Masterson turned around in place to catch him. "Scarlo! Ready the cortical stimulator! Jika! Ambizine, 30ccs, stat!"

T'Varik moved in to assist, to help the stricken officer onto the nearest biobed-

-Stopping only when the other Vulcan suddenly reached up and placed his fingertips on the side of her he-

-as Scarlo passed a sensor wand over T'Varik's head, noting, "Overload of the- hey!" The nurse dropped the wand, her face grimacing in pain for some reason. "Commander!"

T'Varik glanced down, acknowledging that her own hand was on Scarlo's arm, squeezing. She released her hold. "F-Forgive me, Nurse-"

She glanced around, seeing Masterson and other medical staff around a biobed where Lonok lay, being treated, while the overhead display indicated the other Vulcan was in a critical condition; a glance at a nearby wall chronometer confirmed T'Varik had been in a fugue state for approximately 52 seconds. "What happened to me?"

Scarlo drew back a step, as if worried T'Varik might grab her again. "He touched the side of your head, and then you froze, completely unresponsive." She frowned. "Your paratemporal lobe overloaded- did he try to mind-meld with you?"

The Vulcan stiffened, but then shook his head. "He might have tried, in his delirium, but he was too weak to make any connection. I must leave."

"Wait, Commander, the Doc says to keep you here until he or another doctor is free to check you out more thoroughly-"

T'Varik drew up straight. "That will not be necessary, Nurse. I suspect it was merely a side effect of a recent... hormonal imbalance I have been undergoing. Doctor Masterson will be aware of it already."

Scarlo frowned. "I don't know, Ma'am, I think maybe-"

Suddenly their attention was drawn to the biobed with Lonok, as his biosigns went into arrest, triggering alarms and a flurry of activity from the surrounding staff.

"Perhaps you should assist?" T'Varik suggested.

The nurse nodded and rushed over to join in the efforts. T'Varik took the opportunity to move towards the door, stopping as she heard Masterson finally stop and declare Lonok's time of death.

T'Varik paused. She considered a moment of silent reflection on the passing of another Vulcan, another Starfleet officer -- even one connected with Starfleet Intelligence, a division with whom she had interacted in the past, and not always amicably. Especially with regards to Sakuth, her former lover, who on at least two occasions had threatened people onboard this ship. Lonok proved to appear just as volatile and extreme, though perhaps in his case this was exacerbated by his injuries.

But then, as she considered it further, she accepted that it was not logical, that the man had been delusional. It was not likely that he was an operative. No, definitely not.

Suddenly the Red Alert klaxon sounded, as Neheru announced, "

All hands, prepare for battle stations! Klingon vessels dead ahead!"

T'Varik raced back to the Bridge, momentarily at a loss to remember what she was just thinking about.

*

She took her place in the Captain's chair once again, accessing the various logs updated in her absence, though a part of her thoughts remained with Lonok, and wondered how much of his delusion was caused by the subspace instability, and indeed, the cause of the instability itself.

The most likely cause would be some form of subspace isolytic device, a torpedo or directed energy beam, though such devices were banned under the Second Khitomer Accords, because of their instability and the potential for massive loss of life from the resulting release of tetryonic radiation when dealing with subspace layer instability.

"Commander?"

Of course, Starfleet would honour the Accords, but the same could not be said about the Klingons. It would be logical, on a tactical if not a political level, to at least test the potential for such weapons, especially if the conflict with the Dominion escalated-

She blinked and looked over her shoulder at Neheru. "Lieutenant?"

The Kelpien was staring at her in confusion, indicating the viewscreen ahead of them. "I was trying to inform you that we are approaching the

Oberon

, and the

Ajax

has already engaged the Klingon vessels there! But you were lost in thought!"

"Vulcans do not get 'lost in thought'," she informed him archly. "Our mental maps are meticulous." She examined the tactical display, noting the

Sureswift

docked to a port airlock on the

Oberon

.... and a Klingon shuttle on the starboard. "Red Alert, arm all weapons, target to destroy."

She heard the reactions from the Bridge crew, waiting for the inevitable response from Gorman. "Commander? Don't you mean-"

"I know what I meant, Ensign. The Captain and his party are rescuing a civilian child. They require all the protection we can provide. Now, target to destroy, or step aside and be relieved of duty."

Fortunately -- for Gorman anyway -- he replied with, "Targeting to destroy, Ma'am."

T'Varik stayed still, allowing her heart to race a little faster as the

Surefoot

banked hard to starboard, behind one Bird of Prey, her enhanced phasers pounding against the Klingon vessel's shields. T'Varik watched them flare angrily.

Relishing the moment when they would overload, and the ship that threatened her lover and her Captain would be blown to smithereens.

She took 0.82 seconds to consider the etymology of the word 'smithereens', whose framework resembled Terran Gaelic, with the suffix 'een' demoting a diminutive-

The Bird of Prey in front of them exploded -- but from a blast of phaser pulses from the

Ajax

, swooping down from above.

T'Varik indulged in an additional 1.13 seconds in... yes, the emotion was indeed frustration... interesting... before recovering quickly. "Ops, send our thanks to the

Ajax

for their assistance. Helm, draw us closer to the

Oberon

, scan... scan..."

"Yes, Commander?" Neheru prompted.

Standard procedure would have been to scan the immediate area and gather more evidence on the subspace phenomenon which had disabled the

Oberon

, and determine if it was of natural cause, or by design, and if the latter, was it of Klingon origin, or Starfleet-