Surefoot 52: ...this Means War

Shuttlecraft

Telamon

:

Sasha changed course once more, avoiding getting caught in the crossfire. She could have put it in the proverbial hands of the autopilot, but the battle around them kept shifting, far more quickly than even a computer can handle.

Oh, and now you're superior to a computer, Bubulah?

She told herself.

You couldn't even tell that your boyfriend wasn't a Section 31 spy.

In the back of the shuttle, Chief Maryk was finishing strapping an injured Jim Madison down, while trying not to bounce around the interior. "Do you want me to vomit, Lieutenant? Because this is how you get me to vomit."

"Shut up, Chief," Madison groused, face pinched in pain despite the sedative Maryk had given him from the shuttle's medikit. "Sasha's busy. She knows what she's doing."

Sasha grunted, happy that one of them at least had confidence in her abilities. She had hoped that they would have managed to get close enough to the

Surefoot

to beam over by now, but despite the orders from Tattok for the Fleet to retreat, the

Surefoot

had lingered to collect the last of the survivors from the wrecked and destroyed starships around them, despite the efforts of the enemy to drive them off, or destroy them. At least the

Ajax

was still around, keeping off the majority of the enemy, though they couldn't do this forever-

Seven Hells...

she watched one Scarab vessel make an obvious suicide run towards her Dad's ship. The

Ajax

was firing on it, and even she was arming the

Telamon

's weapons; the Chaffee-type shuttle was only equipped with low-level phasers and microtorpedoes, but-

The Scarab erupted under the

Ajax

's pulse phasers.

But a piece of it continued regardless, striking the

Surefoot

's Shuttlebay doors...

Mother's Cubs!

*

Within the Shuttlebay, the scores of survivors screamed and ducked as debris struck, ripping a three-metre-wide hole into the metal, and opening the interior to space.

The results were both inevitable and instantaneous.

With the roar of a hundred hurricanes, the pressure within sought to equilibriate with the vacuum outside by blowing the air out of the Shuttlebay.

People screamed and cried out, grabbing at each other and at whatever was bolted down, or not, as blankets, equipment, possessions of all kinds were picked up by the air and carried out into the hole in the Shuttlebay door.

People with nothing to hold onto, or insufficient strength, followed out into the void.

*

"Collision!" Neheru shouted. "Shuttlebay Door 2! Breach into space!"

Hrelle felt his heart stop as the viewscreen image changed to the location of the impact... with bodies flying out along with inanimate objects and debris. "Where's the damn force fields?"

The Kelpien's long, slender fingers raced over his station controls, eyes wide with alarm. "Systems Failure! We can't raise a field over the breach!"

"Keep at it!" Over his shoulder towards the Engineering Station, he roared, "Pump oxygen into the Shuttlebay and raise the temperature to maximum to compensate!" To T'Varik he added, "See if we can lock onto anyone blown out and beam them back in!"

The Vulcan had already moved onto an auxiliary station before he had finished his orders.

Hrelle could only stand there helplessly; the blast doors into the Shuttlebay from Deck 4 would have automatically closed and locked on detection of the breach, so those inside couldn't even get out. He was supposed to have protected those people...

*

Eydiir had been about to administer a stimulant to Giles when the hole appeared, and now she struggled to bend over and protect him, though she had nothing to hold onto for an anchor. The roar of the air filled her ears, and she could feel the pull towards the breach, dragging her and Giles to death-

Until something landed on her, pinning her down, one hand wrapped around her. She looked over her shoulder to see it was Kit... and behind, holding onto him, Jonas, with Neraxis holding onto her husband, and others behind her: a living chain of people she knew and didn't know... even the execrable Captain Sakuth.

Others weren't so lucky. And she wasn't certain how long they could all hold on.

*

"

Bozhe moi,"

Meryk was whispering, staring over Sasha's shoulder at the horror.

Sasha was biting her lip until it bled.

Come on, come on, where's the damn safety fields already...

Unable to wait any longer, she sent the

Telamon

down, hurtling towards the breach, as if in echo of the debris which had created it.

"Lieutenant..." Maryk muttered.

"Hold on," was all Sasha advised.

*

The temperature was racing with the atmosphere to see which could deplete quicker, and Eydiir's mind went through the expected symptoms: ebullism, the formation of bubbles in body fluids due to reduced ambient pressure; hypoxia, the rapid deprivation of adequate oxygen supply at the tissue level causing flaccid paralysis; hypocapnia, the state of reduced, uh... carbon dioxide in the blood; decompression sickness; hypotherm- thermia, and, oh yeah, something about disorientation, and you really shouldn't have had that Betazoid sundae for gondolas, you couldn't ferment how oblong the granite epididymis was-

A roar, and a shudder like the ship had been attacked again, made her sick to her stomach, but she quickly regained her cognisance. She was still lying over GIles, and Kit was sprawled over her, one arm wrapped around her, cupping one of her breasts. She gasped as she forced the thin air into her lungs. "You... You may cease your groping, Kit."

The reptoid gasped, releasing his hold on her and rising. "Forgive me, Best friend Eydiir! No intimacy was intended!"

"No doubt." She rose, checking on Giles again -- the boy could probably sleep through a supernova -- as she rose weakly to her feet, her legs shaking; the air remained thin and cold, though the ambient environmental systems were noisy with their attempts to restore acceptable levels. "You are unaffected by the air?"

His breath ghosted in the air from his nostrils. "Not as much as many, Best Friend; my people require less oxygen."

"Then begin checking everyone you can." She looked towards the Shuttlebay doors, fully expecting to see a force field finally erected over the breach.

She did not expect to see most of a Starfleet shuttlecraft wedged into the breach at an angle, with only the tail section and its external engine pods on the outside of the

Surefoot

. The gull-wing door on its portside was rising, and Sasha and Maryk emerged from within, supporting Madison as Sasha called out, "We could use a hand over here!"

*

Neheru recovered quickly with everyone else from the second impact, and was the first to report, "Captain! Lt Hrelle's shuttle struck us-"

"

Sasha?"

His heart sank.

No, no, no not his little girl too-

The Chief Ops Officer's expression was one of naked astonishment. "She crashed her shuttle into the breach! She's sealed it, and is using her shuttle's shields to reinforce the local structural integrity!"

Hrelle stared back, not sure he heard correctly.

Then he punched the air, roaring, "THAT'S MY DAUGHTER! BALLS OF PURE TRITANIUM!"

*

Sasha helped lay Madison down, before retrieving her weapons bag, strapping her Kaetini sword to her back and her firearms to her sides. "They'll take care of you, Jim. I have to go."

He looked up, nodding. "Thanks, Sash. For everything."

She nodded back and joined the others, brightening as she saw Jonas, Neraxis, Kit, Eydiir - and even GIles, looking disoriented but otherwise alive. All they needed now was Rrori leering at some of the nurses, and Alpha Squad would be reunited! "I can't seem to get away from you guys."

Then she was quickly joining them in examining those injured following the breach, as Sasha's combadge chirped, and Neheru's voice cut in, albeit punctuated with static, "

Lieutenant- attuned- Captain- you- in charge down there- you need?"

"The ship's taken damage," Jonas informed her. "And there might be further interference from the Jem'Hadar."

"Where are the medical teams?"

"We're on Level 3 Lockdown," Neraxis told her. "They haven't secured the corridors between here and the Sickbays!"

"They'd better, and soon," Eydiir warned them. "We have too many people in critical condition here to manage without help!"

Sasha nodded at that and tapped her combadge. "Bridge! Bridge, are you there?"

*

USS

Ajax

:

"Captain," Kohanim reported. "The Jem'Hadar and Cardassians are regrouping, and we're detecting no more viable escape pods in the area!"

Weynik nodded. "Hail the

Surefoot

." When the viewscreen image changed to something less vast, he announced, "Did Sasha and the others make it safely, Wide Load?"

The Caitian turned to him and nodded, grinning, "

Oh yeah, and saved lives in the process."

"Then it's time to go. You ready?"

"

We're having systems failures, and potential Jem'Hadar still onboard, but neither will stop us from getting the Seven Hells out of here."

"Then follow our course, Warp 8.

Ajax

out."

*

"We've lost all internal communications and transporters now!" Neheru reported anxiously.

Hrelle and T'Varik joined him, staring helplessly at the board. Communications, internal sensors, transporters, the repair drones, the list goes on and on, his Chief of Security hadn't returned, he didn't know if his family was still alive... Hrelle looked to young Logan Gentry at the Engineering station, trying to remember his youth and relative inexperience, but aware of the urgency of the situation. "Mr Gentry! What's happening to us?"

He turned, looking almost panicky. "I can't tell from here, Sir! Not without support from Chief Grev!"

Hrelle growled, acknowledging the limitations anyone would have from up here, taking out his phaser and checking the setting, before moving to the Jefferies Tube. "I'm going to Engineering. Lock the hatch after me."

T'Varik followed. "Sir, if you run into Jem'Hadar-"

"Then they'll regret it. And if you re-establish contact with my daughter, tell her to clear a path from the Shuttlebay to the Sickbays." He slipped into the vertical hatch, glad that he hadn't put on enough weight to end up in a Winnie the Pooh situation. That would hardly make for a dignified exit.

*

Deck Three Corridor:

The Jem'Hadar emerged from the shadows around her, dropping their camouflage, raising their weapons and firing. They were quick.

Lieutenant C'Rash Shall, Chief of Security, was quicker, dodging plasma bolts to let them strike the nearest walls in showers of sparks that blinded her opponents, but allowing her to twist in place, delivering a high, vicious kick into the throat of one of the invaders, sending him sprawling backwards and she reached out and grasped the weapons arm of another opponent, twisting and making him fire at his fellows. She felt their strength -- stronger than most humans, definitely, maybe on a level with Klingons -- but she was certainly faster, more flexible.

The Jem'Hadar she was wrestling with stopped firing and reached up for her neck, but she twisted once more, baring her claws and grasping at his throat, tearing open the flesh and making ugly black blood spurt out. She ducked behind his dying body as his friends fired at her, succeeding only in finishing him off more quickly. Then she held onto him as a shield as she drew her own phaser and fired short, lethal bursts, until the invaaders swarmed around either side of her.

They had stopped using their weapons, and now relied on unarmed combat.

You should have stuck with your ugly guns, boys.

Her claws fully bared, she struck out at them, attacking their eyes and throat; the rest of them appeared as thick-skinned as Gorn, and not worth the effort.

Her blood rose, her reason sank, as rage and desperation to survive overtook her...

*

On the Bridge, T'Varik sat frozen in the Captain's chair, feeling her heart race, her blood boil, her tail twitch- no.

No, that's not right.

She looked down absently at her slim, pale fingers, seeing nothing amiss with them, but feeling their tips split open and claws emerging, encountering thick, cold, leathery skin, smelling blood in her nostrils.

She glanced around. Everyone was working at a heightened pace, of course, but no one else was behaving in such a fashion.

C'Rash... Beloved... stay safe...

*

The black-furred Caitian moved as swiftly as possible, no longer to fight, but to flee. But neither option was much open to her now. They were grasping her by the arms, the legs, her tail even, as she struggled to break loose, to claw and bite at them, I'll kill you

I'LL KILL YOU ALL-

The sharp sound of a blue plasma bolt cut through the air, taking the top of the head of a Jem'Hadar holding her left leg. As he fell and she was free, she drove a kick up into the throat of the invader holding her other leg, making him release her, before a second plasma bolt penetrated one side of his head, erupting out through the other side.

Those Jem'Hadar not desperately trying to hold onto her arms now reached for their weapons, fast -- but not as fast as the Caitian who literally leapt over C'Rash to barrel into them with a snarl, swiping at them with clawed hands.

C'Rash recognised Jhess, and recognised the opportunity he had given her, as she wriggled her way out of the grip of her attackers and leapt onto one of them, digging her claws into his throat and ripping away, feeling hot, foul-smelling blood spurt onto her. She was fully aware of the nanny performing identical work --

Mother's Cubs, Uncle Esek was right, he moved at warp speed!

- his Sabrecat experience clearly unforgotten, and his fitness not diluted by years of changing cubs' nappies and singing dreadful songs.

But it wouldn't be enough, there were too many on this deck... and too many innocents just behind so many of these doors that would be killed, if the Jem'Hadar chose to target them instead. She glanced down either direction of the corridor, trying to find a way out for them both, choosing- "JHESS! RETREAT!"

Without waiting for him, she leapt out, rolled over and back to her feet, using her Security authorisation to override a lock, glancing behind her to see Jhess following, hotly pursued by the other Jem'Hadar. They were now in an outer corridor, a narrow maintenance access running along the outer edge of the starboard forward section of Deck 3. She paused at one juncture to close an emergency hatch behind them, hoping it would buy them time. "What- What in the Seven Hells are you doing here, Spots?" she asked breathlessly. "You- You should be back with Kami and the cubs!"

Jhess was catching his breath now as well, clutching his rifle, looking both natural and alien in his combat armour and helmet. "Heard you fighting- couldn't- couldn't let you die- my darling T'Varik would never let me hear the end of it-"

They started as they heard pounding on the door behind them.

"You're an idiot," she declared, her mind thinking ahead. They were in a dead end here, no access back into the ship, just an airlock to the outside for maintenance on the hull's fore section. "But thanks. Hope I survive to make it up to you."

*

Shuttlebay:

Sasha fitted a combat vest on and glanced around, making plans, but not waiting too long to make them known to those around her. "Weapons check?"

Neraxis nodded to various individuals around her. "Phasers, phaser rifles, some confiscated Jem'Hadar pistols, and those crazy Capellan croquettes of Eydiir's-"

Eydiir raised an indignant chin as she touched the throwing blades in a row on her bandoleer. "They are called

kleegats

, you brusque Infidel."

Sasha waved off her friend's indignation. "Whatever they're called, I know they can be as lethal as a phaser. Now-"

"Excuse me, Lieutenant?"

Sasha turned to see a group of senior officers, survivors from the other ships, approach. Sasha noted the Captain's pips on the collar of the one in front, an older, pale-skinned human male with a broad nose, a hangdog expression and receding grey hairline. "How can I help you, Captain...?"

"Price, Nathan Price, USS

Lynx

. And you?"

"Lt Sasha Hrelle, formerly Second Officer, USS

Ajax

, now on temporary reassignment here. My condolences for the loss of your ship, Sir; the

Lynx

was a fine vessel-"

"Who put you in charge here?"

"Captain Hrelle." At his expression she confirmed, "My father, Sir."

Price stuck out his broad chin. "Yes, well, Missy, this isn't Take Your Daughter to Work Day! There are seriously-injured people here! Why aren't they being seen to?"

"We lost the original medical team here in a Jem'Hadar firefight, and most of the rest when we had the breach. Communications are down, and the corridors from here to the Sickbays have yet to be re-secured-"

"Then why hasn't it been done, Missy?"

Sasha swallowed, mentally counting to ten even as she responded patiently, "We're about to, Sir, if you'll allow us to continue-"

But he shook his head. "I'm taking over from here, Lieutenant. Relinquish your weapons."

She tensed. "Excuse me, Sir?"

He straightened himself up further. "I said I'm taking over here. You've done well so far, your Daddy will be proud of you, I'm sure." He held out his hand. "Now, relinquish your weapons."

"No, Sir."

Price blinked. "Excuse me, Missy?"

Sasha faced him fully. "It's Lieutenant

Sasha

Hrelle, Sir, not Missy; you must have misheard me earlier when I introduced myself. And with respect, I'm in charge here. I need you to stay and assist the other survivors while we manage this. You're my responsibility now, and you currently possess no authority."

He stepped closer to her, outrage clear on his face. "I shouldn't have to remind you of my superior rank,

Lieutenant

. Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Lieutenant Hrelle is the duly-appointed senior officer for this situation," Captain Sakuth interjected, stepping into the argument. "As per the Commanding Officer of this vessel. That is who the hell she thinks she is."

Price faced her. "And you are?"

"Sakuth, former Commanding Officer of the

James Fenimore Cooper

. Though of course at this time, your rank and former command status is as meaningless as mine."

"Excuse me?"

"Starfleet Order 101, Section A, Paragraph 1A: 'In the event of a situation requiring a Commanding Officer to abandon their ship, they are automatically relieved of both command and duty pending a psychiatric evaluation and clearance from a qualified specialist of either Chief Medical Officer or Chief Counselor rank.' As such, you have no authority to relieve Lt Hrelle."

He sneered at the Vulcan. "Yeah, I know you, the whole Fleet does, and I don't need lectures from Captain Cloak and Dagger."

"And this young officer doesn't need your Alpha Male posturing." Sakuth turned to Sasha. "Lieutenant, we are prepared to offer our services in any capacity, should you need us, or not."

Sasha blinked, not expecting support from Sakuth, given her past misdeeds onboard... and her obvious connection with Section 31. But there was no time to explore further. "Thank you, Ma'am. Captain Hrelle will need the names of the most-senior representatives from every vessel whose crew the

Surefoot

has rescued. You and Captain Price obviously represent the

Cooper

and the

Lynx

, respectively, but could you please expedite identifying appropriate reps from the other vessels?"

Sakuth nodded. "A logical and laudable suggestion, Lieutenant." She departed.

Price and his cronies remained, the man refusing to give in so easily. "Young lady, I must urge you to reconsider. There could be Jem'Hadar waiting for you out there. This isn't a game- wait, that's not Starfleet issue! And what are you doing with a

sword

, of all things?"