Surefoot 24: Snakes on a Starship

Then she heard Neraxis barking orders at some Nagaina crewmen, including Captain Koulev, who had dropped their weapons and surrendered. The young cadet was obviously distraught by the carnage, particularly that involving her lover and friend Jonas, but she remained professional and stayed at her job; T'Varik made a mental note to commend her as she opened a channel from a wall intercom. "All Medical personnel report to Auxiliary Sickbay on Deck 5 immediately! Bridge, we have retaken the Shuttlebay, but remain on Red Alert!"

C'Rash rushed up. "Will he be okay?"

The Vulcan took a moment to gather her discipline. "I... do not know." She noted the wounds on the Caitian's arm. "You have been injured, too. You need treatment."

"Later. I have to sweep the ship, make sure there are no stragglers. Go with the Captain and the others, they'll need you now."

T'Varik nodded -- but indulged herself in a moment of briefly touching the Caitian's hand, before departing.

The Auxiliary Sickbay was more basic that the Main, but it was larger, and more than adequate for all but the most specialised treatments. Doctor Kline had arrived, and cursed in his native Klingon at the readings the biobed provided as Misha was set upon it.

"Will he be okay?" Hrelle demanded, setting Kami on an adjacent biobed.

"Your little Warrior will not see Sto-Vo-Kor today. Scarlo! Assist me! Deal with the Counselor, Eydiir, unless you are too injured."

"I will manage." She moved to Kami's biobed, quickly reading and assessing. "Strange... The level of neurotoxins should have already been fatal, but the Counselor already has some antitoxin in her system... Dr Ling injected her and Misha with something before all this happened..." Then she set aside her surprise to focus on replicating more and treating her other injuries.

Ptera moved up to Kline. "I'm a neurosurgeon back home-"

Kline grunted. "You will have more experience with Caitian physiology. Do you wish to take over Misha's treatment?"

"May I?"

"Do it, I'll deal with the gunshot wounds. Those, I can stomach more than thinking about what those dishonourable petaQs did to an infant..."

*

Deck 3 Fore -- Arboretum:

Sasha lungs felt raw and bone-dry from the sheer effort of just breathing. Her outside, on the other hand, felt drenched from sweat and blood. Most of it her own, she thought.

At least her Vlathi opponent looked just as bad, swaying uneasily, gasping for air, one of its fangs broken off, one of its arms hanging broken and limp at its side, one eye sealed shut from bruises. "I... I... I..."

Sasha offered a weak smile and a chuckle. "'I, I, I.' It's always about you in this relationship, isn't it?"

The Vlathi made a final lunge at her.

She swung out and smashed it across the side of its head, both of them going down onto a square of upturned dirt, both of them still struggling until the Vlathi stabbed her in the arm with its remaining fang.

Somehow, she still had strength enough to feel pain -- and to strike back, grabbing it by the throat, claws piecing the thinner flesh here, and squeezing until it spasmed, wheezed, unable to breath. And she held it there until it went still.

Her head was pounding with a thousand drumbeats, as she rolled off it, trying to help herself back to her feet and go for help. But she barely managed to rise to her hands and knees, before feeling the electric numbing wave rushing through her. Her muscles failed to respond. Her lungs felt like they were curling up inside her chest.

She looked up with dilating vision at Hrulish, still at his hiding spot behind a tree, and she wasn't quite sure if she was saying anything...

A distant noise caught her fading attention, and as she dropped into unconsciousness, she saw Hrulish racing up to her, calling out to someone, "In here! We're in here!"

*

Deck 4 Mid -- Auxiliary Sickbay:

Kline moved quickly and efficiently among the wounded, using a micro-transporter to remove the shrapnel, and autosutures to repair the wounds, while Medical cadets synthesised and administered plasma and suitable antibiotics.

He had worked on Jonas first, confirming for all as the unconscious young man was moved into the adjacent Recovery Bay that he would be fine; Kit had suffered only a mild concussion, and would stay and watch over Jonas.

Now all focus was on the adjacent Operating Theatre, where Ptera worked on Misha, and Eydiir on Kami, assisted by the more experienced nurses. Hrelle and Ma'Sala stood at the doorway, as if standing guard, their attention unwavering.

Until Hrulish and C'Rash entered -- carrying a bloodied, broken Sasha.

The room erupted into a storm of horror as nurses took over, carrying the young woman to a biobed, removing the gauntlets on her hands and studying the readings. Hrelle strode up. "Great Mother..."

Nurse Scarlo looked up at the readings. "Vlathi venom, toxic shock, blood loss, concussion, internal injuries- prepare another bed in Ops! Dr Kline!"

"I know! Just lift her up and take her straight in!" He followed the nurses and Sasha back into the Theatre.

Hrelle stood there, gasping, fighting the pain in his chest as he turned to face C'Rash and Hrulish. "Where did you find her?"

His Chief of Security spoke first, her expression tight and anguished. "She was with Hrulish in the Arboretum, and a Vlathi body."

Hrelle looked at the other male. "What happened?"

Hrulish took a moment to respond, as if needing to gather his strength. "She- I found her, being attacked by one of those monstrous things- I leapt in to save her- I managed to dispatch it... I'm hoping I wasn't too late..."

*

Hrelle stood in the corner of the Recovery Bay, staring at his family, all lying there, still unconscious, but their individual readings, and the prognoses from the doctors who had worked on them, telling him that they would eventually recover.

He wished he could say the same for himself.

T'Varik entered, sparing a glance at the patients before approaching him. "Captain, the Nautilus is on rendezvous with us, ETA 3.67 hours. Lieutenant C'Rash is continuing a Security sweep of the ship; she located the dampening field generator on Deck 5 and deactivated it, and we have restored full power and function.

Three of the Nagaina crew, including Captain Koulev, survived and were moved to the Brig. There were surviving Vlathi, but they appeared to have ingested some form of lethal poison. Their bodies had been moved to Cargo Bay 5 for cold storage, as our own morgue facilities could not handle their size and number, but we did move the bodies of the Nagaina crew, and Dr Ling, there, and have begun clean-up following forensic evidence gathering."

"She was a spy for the Bel-Zon," he noted blankly.

The Vulcan reacted. "Doctor Ling? How are you aware of this?"

"I heard them talking about her. Alert Starfleet Intelligence, seal off her quarters, and check with the Nautilus to see if they have an SI Officer onboard to begin the investigation, taking statements and all that."

"Aye, Sir." She noticed as his expression went taut with pain. "Were you injured, Captain?"

"No- I mean, I was, but nothing I can't handle. I- I have heart arrhythmia; it's been through a lot in my life. I take metrazine for it, but I haven't had a chance to get any since this happened, and I'm not leaving my family."

"Shall I ask Dr Kline or-"

"No, they've all worked hard enough, I'll be fine." He nodded at his family. "Better than them. I did this. They're in this state because of me."

She looked to him. "Your reasoning is specious, and deeply flawed. Their present state is the result of a series of decisions independently made by others. No one forced the Bel-Zon to send the Vlathi, or the Vlathi to act as they did, or the crew of the Nagaina to assist them. These were all actions taken by them of their own free will. You cannot blame yourself."

Hrelle swallowed. "Misha... it's not fair, to be so young, and to suffer so much-"

She nodded soberly. "The Universe is not fair. Nor is it unfair. It simply is. In other realities, he might not have been injured like this... and he might not have existed at all. But our Misha exists, and will continue to exist. With our support. And love." After a pause she announced, "I will remain on duty until further notice, should you need me."

"Thank you, T'Varik. For everything."

She nodded as she departed.

*

In the waiting room, the Caitians waited, silently, cups of coffee in hand, unwilling to leave until they heard something.

"What-" Rrori finally spoke up, staring into his own cup. "What happened to us in the Corridor? I- I don't remember much." He touched his right bicep. "I don't even remember getting struck by a bullet."

"It was C'Mau's Cry," Ma'Sala answered simply.

The cadet looked to her, eyes wide. "Nonsense! I mean, excuse me, Ma'am, but- that's just a myth!"

"But it may have some basis in fact," Ptera noted, curled up beside her husband. "There have been only a few documented cases in medical history, of Caitians reacting like we did to the cry of an infant cub in mortal pain or terror. Similar, I suppose, to stories of humans exhibiting moments of superhuman strength and endurance when faced with assisting others in danger, or Klingons going into berserker rages and taking on overwhelming numbers of opponents.

There may be a mechanism in us that can produce C'Mau's Cry, something we lose when we learn to talk and crawl." She shrugged tiredly. "Of course, it's never been properly tested, since we're not going to intentionally put an infant in danger. And... maybe we shouldn't test for it, if it should prove to be something that our enemies can use against us?"

Eydiir had been moving about them, checking on their individual readings, and had been listening. "Forgive my ignorance, Doctor Ptera, but who is C'Mau?"

"C'Mau was one of the Great Mother's Cubs," Mi'Tree explained, his melodious baritone deep and soothing. "He had been taken from Her by the Unspeakable, and secured behind a ring of unscalable mountains raised up by the devil, who wanted to feast on the infant in peace. But C'Mau released a Cry that gave the Great Mother the strength to bring down the very mountains themselves with Her bare hands."

"Well told," Ma'Sala commented, smirking at his reaction to her complement. She approached him, rubbing her muzzle against his. "By the way, you old cat... you fought superbly. I will be proud to have you by my side should we be called upon to fight again."

"Thank you, my dear. But perhaps I shall leave the fighting to those who aren't as invested in maintaining their attractive features as I am."

Now Hrulish rose. "Yes, well, this has been a very trying day. I think I'll retire."

Bneea looked up at him. "You're not staying, to be here when they wake up? Sasha will want to thank you for saving her life."

He spared an uneasy glance towards the Recovery Bay. "That... won't be necessary. Besides, she might not even remember the events the way they happened, and I wouldn't want to confuse her while she focuses on healing. Good evening, all."

He started towards the door -- but then C'Rash appeared, blocking his way, glaring with tight fury at him. "Going somewhere?"

"Yes, to bed. If you'll excuse me-"

She took his arm. "No. Not just yet. I have a couple more questions."

"Perhaps in the morning, young lady-"

Now she reached up to his chest and shoved him back into the room. "Now."

"Hey! You can't treat me like this! Do you know who I am?"

"Yes: a witness in the assault of a member of this crew. And as Chief of Security, I can treat you like this."

The others rose, Ptera asking, "What's happening, C'Rash? What's wrong?"

C'Rash kept her gaze fixed on Hrulish. "You said you were passing the Arboretum when you heard Sasha being attacked, went in to save her, and killed the Vlathi. Do you still maintain that?"

Hrulish looked nervous, and irritated. "Yes, why?"

Eydiir looked over curiously, suspiciously. "When you visited the gym where Sasha and I were working out, you asked where the Arboretum was, and then left for it. How did she manage to get in there before you?"

"Well, I was there, but I got bored and wandered into your Library! I was trapped in there until everything was restored, I returned, and found Ms Hrelle being assaulted! Is that so difficult to grasp?"

"No," C'Rash answered for her. "What's difficult to grasp is how you can say you killed the Vlathi, when I examined the body, and found that every wound in it had traces of tritanium from Sasha's gauntlets. No Caitian DNA, like I would expect to find if you had raised your claws to it."

She looked down at him. "Then there's your clothes. You've got Sasha's blood on them from when we carried her down here, but no Vlathi blood." She indicated the others. "All of us who fought them are covered in it. But perhaps you're so good at killing that you managed to keep yourself clean."

"He told us he was a decorated veteran of the last War you had with the Ferasans," Eydiir mentioned darkly. "And had killed many of them with his claws and fangs."

"No he didn't!" Ptera exclaimed, confused. "He had a deferment from the Militia because our clan's company makes the spaceframes for our warships!"

All eyes moved to Hrulish.

Mi'Tree rose to his feet, gaze narrowed in sheer disbelief, voice low and laced with a growl as he drew closer. "Did you... did you let my granddaughter fight alone against one of those monsters?"

"Now, Mi'Tree, technically she's not your granddaughter-"

"DID YOU LET MY GRANDDAUGHTER FIGHT ALONE AGAINST ONE OF THOSE MONSTERS?"

"Of course not!" he exclaimed indignantly. "I was there!"

"Yes, you were," C'Rash agreed. "I found the place in the corner of the Arboretum, behind a tree, where you had cowered, your claws raking the bark, the scent of your fear thick and lingering." She raised her hand, producing his small silver snuff box. "And where you dropped this. This has your DNA, along with some illegal substance." She stuffed it into the breast pocket of his jacket.

"Uncle..." Ptera murmured in shock, staring wide-eyed at him.

Hrulish's tail twitched in anxiety, and he held up his hands, as if he could hold them all back. "Yes, well, perhaps in all the confusion I might not have told the account with 100% accuracy-"

Ma'Sala growled now. "You stood by and let my granddaughter almost get killed-"

"Will you stop that? She's not really your kin! She's not even Caitian!"

Mirow growled now. "My sister is more Caitian than you'll ever be, you coward!"

"I'm not a fighter! I'm a businessman!"

"And I'm a surgeon," Ptera reminded him. "And Mirow's a pilot. And Mi'Tree an actor, and Bneea a stuntman. But we all stepped up when we were needed, to fight a common threat. All of us. Except you."

Hrulish's angry, umbrageous expression moved to each of them, sneering at them. "None of you have the right to judge me! None of you! I have more responsibilities than you can imagine! I can't be expected to risk my life to save some arrogant little human bitch-"

A growl from behind them made everyone turn.

Hrelle stood at the doorway at the Recovery Bay, eyes wide, teeth bared, claws raking the framework as he glared at Hrulish. Ready to strike.

Ma'Sala understood instantly, turning back to Hrulish. "GET HIM OUT OF HERE! NOW! GET HIM TO HIS QUARTERS!"

Hrelle launched himself in his direction, before being caught and tackled back into the wall by Ma'Sala, barely holding him, until Bneea assisted her. "No, Esek! Don't! He's not worth it!"

"Bneea's right," Ma'Sala agreed, looking back to see Ptera and Mirow escorting Hrulish out of the room. "Calm down! Don't give in!"

Hrelle was growling... then he was gasping in pain. "Heart-"

Eydiir rushed over to a medical replicator, produced an appropriate hypospray and injected him. As her Captain visibly calmed down, the Capellan girl noted, "Commander T'Varik made me aware of your potential need for metrazene, Sir."

He nodded weakly, gasping, allowing Ma'Sala to say, "Thank you, Cadet. And thank you for all your efforts tonight. My clan will not forget what you've done; we are in your debt."

The other Caitians guided Hrelle to a chair to sit him down.

He was shaking.

After a second, Ma'Sala realised he was sobbing, and dropped to one knee beside him, holding him.

Eydiir deliberately looked to Bneea, announcing quietly, "I will be with the patients, if you need me."

The Caitian male nodded in appreciation as she departed.

*

Deck 2 Fore -- Captain's Ready Room:

C'Rash entered without preamble. Behind the desk, T'Varik spared only a quick glance at the intruder. "This must be concise, Lieutenant, I have a meeting scheduled with Admiral Trenagen to provide a briefing on the incident."

The Caitian entered, drawing up to the front of the desk and standing formally. "I have logged my initial reports, along with a catalogue of the evidence gathered. I've also received confirmation that the escort vessel Firetail is en route to collect our Caitian visitors. What about our wounded?"

The Vulcan's fingers continued to move over the PADD in her hand. "Doctors Kline and Ptera have downgraded the levels of Counselor Hrelle, Sasha and Misha from Serious to Stable, but they are being kept under stasis to allow their bodies to heal further. Cadet Kitirik has recovered from his concussion but is being kept under observation."

"What about Jonas? Getting shot in the stomach must have hurt like a bastard."

"I imagine it was painful, but the bullets did not strike any vital organs, and he is expected to make a full rapid recovery; I have been told that he has asked Neraxis to assist him with his toiletry duties, though I suspect this is more an excuse to have her handle his genitals." She looked up. "Is that all?"

C'Rash regarded her, before crossing her arms over her chest and adopting a more informal, challenging posture. "No. A member of the crew who was directly involved in the violence on the Shuttlebay has provided an inadequate account of her involvement. I am required to ask additional questions, but she has been hiding away in the Captain's Ready Room."

T'Varik glanced up, setting aside her PADD. "My report was factual accurate, concise and true."

"But not quite complete." She sauntered around the desk to face the other woman, her black-furred tail flicking behind her. "I know that I instructed you in the use of the rifle you were carrying. You stressed prior to the incident in the Shuttlebay that you believed it would not be necessary to actually use it."

"Clearly I was mistaken."

"Yes. But when you did use it, to kill the Vlathi who was about to attack Eydiir and Misha, you emptied the full magazine into it. Sixty rounds. Far more than was necessary to stop the Vlathi."

"Lieutenant, this is not the time to be discussing this-"

C'Rash dropped to her knees before the Vulcan, reaching out and gently but firmly taking T'Varik's hands in her own. "You're the one who told me that we had to use minimal force. What you did could not possibly be defined as 'minimal'."

"Lieutenant, you are out of line-"

"I'm not speaking to you now as Chief of Security. I'm speaking as your lover. What you tell me will never, ever go any further. But it's not good, not logical, not healthy, to keep it to yourself." She squeezed the Vulcan's hands. "Why did you react the way you did?"

The Vulcan's expression grew pained, as she momentarily lowered her mental disciplines. "I... I have committed a heinous act. And yet I remain unrepentant by what I have done. I can employ any number of sound logical justifications for my actions. But in the end, I know I was not driven by logic.