The Burning World - Part 2

CPV Tailless:

Everyone not performing vital work in the cockpit was crowded in the aft section, the table folded away to allow the holoprojector plates in the floor and ceiling to present images. But not ones for entertainment purposes: it showed a planet, slowly rotating… and slowly, inescapably being consumed by flame.

Kit stood next to Stalac, the reptoid delineating the images. “Gault’s atmosphere is currently undergoing a chemical thermogenesis: hydrogen molecules are combining with an unknown substance to become a new, pyrophoric element, one which ignites at sufficient high ambient temperatures.”

Sasha stared at the image: almost half of the planet, the side facing the sun, was coated at the terminator with swirling, red-orange fire, while the centre was swaddled with black smoke and ash. “The day side. The sun is causing it.”

“Yes, Lieutenant,” Stalac confirmed, his voder unit able to include a sense of horror in his synthesised voice. “As the planet continues to rotate, the sun heats the direct atmosphere, triggering combustion, and the convection of air currents spreads the effect.”

Zir, standing near an aghast-looking Peter, divided her attention between him and the hologram. “The Dominion is causing it? It’s definitely not a natural phenomenon?”

“It’s definitely nothing like it in any scientific database, Zir.”

“Of course it’s the fricking Dominion,” Neraxis muttered. “It’s something they would do.”

“And the… combustion…” Sasha continued, horrified at seeing such destruction on a global scale. “It’s reaching ground level? To the lifeforms?”

“Yes, Respected Lieutenant,” Kit confirmed soberly. “Anything flammable is consumed. There may be subterranean and aquatic lifeforms which escape the burn, but they will not be able to breathe the local altered atmosphere.”

Peter stepped forward, eyes wide, unblinking, as if he might seize the hologram of his birthworld to save the real thing. Instead, he raised an arm and pointed to the burning sections. “This is the Western Hemisphere! There are a few weather and ecological stations there, but the majority of settlements and automated farming complexes are in the Eastern Hemisphere! Can we see if they’re still safe?”

“Mr Stalac, if you would, please?” Kit asked.

The Horta’s cilia moved over the universal control interface on the floor at his side, and the image of Gault expanded to show the Eastern Hemisphere, dominated by a large lozenge-shaped continent of immense greens and yellows. “There are a series of weather and communication satellites in orbit around the planet, still functioning, still automatically transmitting data, though the Dominion ship is disrupting any signals from leaving the system. We are detecting approximately 17,220 humanoid lifeforms, most moving in a westerly direction, away from the direction of the Fires-”

“Can we contact them?” Peter demanded. “Let them know we’re on our way?”

“Not without alerting the Dominion task force present.”

“They must be aware of what’s happening,” Urad mused. “Have they no defences, no escape vessels?”

“No planetary defences,” Kit responded. “And there are several large vessels, cargo containers which could in theory transport many of the inhabitants... but there is also evidence of the recent wreckage of similar vessels, suggesting-”

“Suggesting the Jem’Hadar have been shooting down any who try to leave.” Sasha concluded coldly. “They’re using this planet as a test bed for this weapon. How much time until...”

The rest of her question went unasked, but Kit understood enough. “The Fires will reach the edges of the main continent in six hours. Consumption of the planet will be complete in another five.”

The group went silent, until Peter breathed, almost desperately, “I have to save her.”

“We have to save them all,” Sasha clarified, drawing in a breath and beginning. “Mr Stalac, bundle this data and send it in a Priority One Message back to the Surefoot, inform them of our location and our intention to take all steps necessary to save what’s left of Gault. Then you and Lt Kitirik will continue to examine the data, find out how this weapon works... and how to stop it.

Neraxis, you and Ensign Kaldron will take a station up front and examine the tactical data on that Dominion ship; we’ve not seen its design before, I want to know its strengths and weaknesses. Jonas, you and Ensign Emoto do the same, from an Engineering standpoint. Also keep an eye on those Scarab ships; they’re spread out in wide patrol patterns, but I want to know if they change course as if they’ve detected us. Ensign Boone?”

Peter started, turning to her, a storm of emotions on his face.

Sasha continued, calmly but firmly. “Accompany Ensign Dassene to one of the auxiliary stations in the Cockpit, provide details of the location of your community, and your local government centres.” She looked to Zir. “Make no contact with anyone without my authorisation.”

“I have to get my child off that planet!” Peter demanded, his face red, stiffening when Zir put a hand on his arm. “I can track her!”

“Yes,” Sasha conceded. “But what about all the other children down there? What about their families? All the thousands of others on Gault? We can’t get them all off the planet.”

“I don’t give a damn about them!” he practically shouted in her face.

Sasha chose not to react, except to reply calmly. “I know, Mr Boone. But you don’t have to. I do. And if I can halt what’s happening down there and save everyone, I’ll do everything I can... including sacrificing my ship and myself, if it comes to that. And if it does come to that, I’ll be leaving you and everyone else on Gault until help arrives.”

She looked around, almost challenging those surrounding her to say something in contest, before she turned to Stalac. “Has that transmission been sent, Ensign?”

The Horta rumbled. “Yes, Lieutenant. Reinforcements should arrive at a minimum of 10 hours, if they leave immediately.”

Sasha nodded. “We’ll be in orbit of Gault in just over six hours, once the Firewave begins reaching the eastern end of the continent. Anyone not assigned to a task, get some rest, you’ll be needed. Dismissed.”

Sasha continued to stare at the hologram in front of her, hearing everyone depart... but still feeling someone behind her, and knowing who it was. “You should be forward, keeping an eye on Peter; he’s wound up tighter than an old watch.”

No answer.

She turned to face Eydiir. “What?”

The Capellan stared at her, drawing closer. “I told you before you needed to be the commander I know you can be. You have exceeded my expectations.” She reached out and clasped Sasha’s forearm. “I am proud to know you, Sister, and to stand beside you.”

Sasha stared back, at the young woman who had seemed so cold and savage and unapproachable when they first met, but who had softened in Sasha’s eyes with time. They shared a stubborn loyalty, a lack of tolerance for dishonesty or cruelty, and a past stained with the loss of loved ones. Together they had shed blood, and spilled blood, and watched each other’s backs. Eydiir had called her Sister.

And Sasha found herself comforted, both with that, and with her presence now.

They embraced.

Sasha drew back. “Still... if we do come up with a way of saving everyone on Gault and not get killed, you won’t be too pissed off about it?”

Eydiir shrugged. “We’ll see.”

*

Hrelle had been sitting perusing intelligence data beside T’Varik in his Ready Room. But, as the Vulcan expected, he didn’t do it silently. “Marvin was telling me that one time on the Princeton, Chief Sakai had a Petty Officer who made his subordinates’ lives Hell on the Graveyard Shift - not that any of them would dare complain about it, of course. But he knew, so he taught him a lesson in humility, by secretly infecting his trousers with Nanites designed to snap strategic threads to make them fall apart, and then had him give a lecture before the entire Engineering crew on decorum-”

“I believe I can follow this anecdote to its conclusion, Sir.”

He reached for his tea. “You don’t approve of hijinks?”

“I have appreciated the technical sophistication employed in some so-called practical jokes,” she confessed, “Having witnessed several elaborate examples in the rivalry between yourself and Captain Weynik, even if I must officially protest the immature example you two were setting for those around you. I hope that Chief Sakai won’t trigger a resurgence of such shenanigans from you.”

He made a sound. “Of course not. I like being a mature figure of authority.”

“And you also fear a reprisal from your wife.”

“That, too.” The desk intercom chimed, and he responded, “Yes?”

Lt Bellator’s voice filled the air. “Captain, there is a Priority One Message from a Caitian vessel, the... Tailless?”

Hrelle set aside his tea and bolted to his feet, T’Varik silently following as they emerged onto the Bridge, the Caitian barking, “Onscreen!”

The main viewscreen’s image of the Thirteenth Fleet was replaced by a series of texts, data and images, the three officers reading quickly.

“Seven Hells...” he murmured, having read enough. He looked to T’Varik. “Have we got enough crew onboard to function?”

“We are at 25% capacity, enough to function... under normal circumstances. To handle a potential crisis of this magnitude...” The Vulcan left it at that.

He nodded at that. “Yellow Alert! Helm! Set a course for the Gault system, Warp 9! Bellator, relay the transmission to Admiral Tattok, and open a channel to Captain Weynik on the Ajax!”

T’Varik looked to him, as the Surefoot banked sharply to another direction and jumped to warp. “We are leaving without discussing the matter with the Admiral first?”

He looked ahead, as if mesmerised by the tunnelling effect of warp speed on the starfield beyond. “We’re responding to a Priority One message, as per Starfleet Regulations.”

She nodded. “And of course, if we wait to speak with Tattok first, he might order us not to respond until the intelligence is examined more thoroughly?”

He shrugged... his tail giving away his true feelings.

Beside them, Bellator reported, “Captain Weynik is on a channel, Sir.”

“Onscreen.”

The starfield changed, replaced with the aquamarine, ossified features of his Roylan friend, his beady black eyestalks fixed. “Wide Load! What’s going on?”

“We’ve received a Priority One Message from Sasha’s ship. She’s in the Gault system with the other cubs. The Dominion are testing a planet-killing weapon there.” He glanced at Bellator. “Send the Ajax the transmission.”

“Bloody Hemra! And my father let you go off alone?”

“I decided not to stick around and wait for confirmation from the Admiral.”

Weynik nodded. “Looks like you might need help.”

“I’ll definitely need help. We’re a little short here.”

The Roylan grunted. “Nothing wrong with being short. We’ll catch up with you, before my father tells me not to. Ajax out.”

The starfield returned. Hrelle looked to Bellator. “Lieutenant, make an assessment of the crew we have onboard, work out a new schedule based on their numbers and ensure we have maximum redundancies on support systems in case we have to go into battle.”

Bellator blanched, but finally nodded and replied, focusing on their station. “Aye, Sir.”

Hrelle forced down the sickening feeling in his gut at the thought of his daughter racing into danger, and turned back to T’Varik. “I want us to look at that data again... and wait for the inevitable call from Tattok.”

*

Tori couldn’t untense herself. Even beyond the current crisis, and the need to find answers to help save an entire fricking planet of people - and who the frick does that to a bunch of fricking farmers anyway? - and the tension that’s been building up onboard the ship between her Squad and the Old Farts. Now she had to deal with Ostrow, sitting beside her, trying not to set her off again. Which, ironically, was the very thing that would set her off again.

Ever since... ever since Ostrow appeared and took over from poor Chief Grev, she had hated him. Hated the fact that the Chief had sung his praises since Tori had been onboard the Surefoot. Hated the way he acted like he knew what was going on in her head. Hated his confidence and condescension and stupid silver hair and how he just walked around and never had any problems except how to be brilliant and-

He was pointing to a section of the display before them, of the main Dominion starship in orbit around Gault. “These extensions... I would have identified them as radiator fins, or even atmospheric stabilisers.”

She grunted, glad to have something to do to take her mind off of... “Sensor fins, larger versions of what we’ve seen on their battleships. Extended away from the nacelle couplings to avoid sensor interference.”

“Which would suggest this vessel is not combat-oriented, but one with a function similar to our own planetary surveyors.”

“Not combat-oriented? Are you fricking crazy, look at those torpedo tubes!”

She glanced over her shoulder when she heard the reaction from the Bolian security officer Neraxis Ostrow... and past her, Zir, glaring with obvious disapproval at her words.

But the object of her vitriol did not appear offended, indicating the surrounding sections of the tubes. “I don’t think these are torpedo tubes, given their cluster and proximity to the impulse engines; they could only be safely employed when the vessel was stationary, and I doubt if the Jem’Hadar would want to stop in the middle of a battle to fire-”

“Fine, whatever!” She shut her eyes. Tori, you stupid little cow, get a hold of your fricking self! Softer now, she whispered, “Sorry, Sir. Don’t mean to be rude to you.”

“Bet you do.”

She looked at him accusingly, but not seeing any real indignation in his expression, just... understanding.

Tori looked away again, grinding her teeth. You’re gonna get yourself kicked out of Starfleet. Do you really want that? Well?

She knew the answer already, having been confronted with it more than once by Counselor Hrelle. Her response, as always, had been infuriatingly measured and precise: “Anger is a completely reasonable response to what you underwent. You saw Chief Grev and Ensign Yeager killed before you, you were dragged off by the Cardassian soldiers determined to rape and humiliate you, you had lost complete control over yourself, more than you ever had been.

But it’s important to distinguish between the feeling of anger, and the expression of it. You have no control over how you feel, but you have total control over what you do with it... including accepting responsibility when that control fails. And it will be the employment of that control which will help build up the confidence that had been eroded by the trauma you experienced.”

She glanced over her shoulder once more in Zir’s direction, before turning back to Jonas, whispering in an over-emphasised deferential tone, “May I please speak with you privately, Sir?”

He nodded and rose, indicating the aft compartments... and waving off his wife’s attempts to rise and follow them. When they were away from the others, he prompted, “Yes, Ensign?”

Tori felt her skin burn, but she forced herself to breathe in and announce, “Lieutenant, I want to apologise for my behaviour to you.”

He shook his head. “You don’t have to do that, Ensign-”

“I must disagree, Sir. I’m... angry. I’m just so angry, all the time, over what happened to me. You have repeatedly tried to help me, and I have refused to even accept that I had a problem needing help. And repair, whether it’s a machine or a person, starts with recognising that something needs repairing.”

Despite himself, Jonas smirked. “Quoting the Counselor?”

She looked up. “You know it?”

He nodded. “I’ve needed a lot of help in the past.”

Tori paled. “Not like I do.”

“Well, maybe not quite like you do,” he admitted soberly. “But something similar. I was the victim of a different type of assault.”

She started. “You?”

Jonas nodded again. “A rogue telepath entered my mind, altered my memories and perceptions, and... made me feel so... unloved, unworthy, the most wretched, worthless creature in the Universe. I ended up trying to commit suicide.”

The admission made Tori feel like she’d been stunned by a phaser. The older officer seemed so... solid, so dependable and self-confident! Now her own traumas seemed so petty in comparison. “I’m- I’m sorry, Sir.”

He shrugged. “I’m better, far better now than I was before. But I still remember the... the pure rage I felt, at someone doing that to me. And rage at myself, for letting it happen, even though there was nothing I could have done to stop it. And rage at my friends, not just for pestering me into getting help, but for knowing in the first place.”

He leaned back until he rested against a wall. “In those weeks and months after, I was afraid, about it happening again, And afraid that from then on, everyone I knew would treat me differently, would only see me as the Guy Who Tried To Kill Himself.”

He caught her eye before continuing. “No one did. Because my friends are the best. Like your friends are for you, I’m sure. They won’t judge you, or see you like you fear they might.”

Tori breathed in, feeling her emotions threaten to burst out.

But before either of them could go further, Kit’s voice called out from the rear of the ship. “Respected Colleagues, please attend!”

The two Engineers looked to each other, as Sasha, Zir and several others joined them in the midsection, and all moved to the aft, where Kit and Stalac awaited them, both of them next to more holodisplays of Gault, more detailed now with various overlapping swirls and patterns. “Respected Colleagues, we have been studying the details of the conflagration on Gault, and have noted certain factors not immediately identified at first. Ensign, if you would?”

At Kit’s feet, Stalac accessed the holodisplays. “The Dominion have launched a series of devices into Gault’s atmosphere to initiate the chemical combustion we have seen envelop over half the planet. But this is not a stand-alone process. The chemicals employed are inherently unstable, and without being fed and manipulated at precise times and amounts, they would soon burn themselves out.”

Sasha took it in, nodding. “We could go in, shoot down the devices, disrupt the process-”

“We do not believe that is a viable option, Respected Lieutenant,” Kit informed her. “We could not destroy enough to make an appreciable change, before the Dominion ship was alerted.”

“And then the Jem’Hadar would be sent in,” Neraxis concluded. “And I’ve checked the Tailless’ weaponry; you’ve got some nice surprises onboard, but not enough to stand up to a squadron of those bastards.”

“No,” Sasha agreed. “What about the main vessel? What have you learned about it?”

“We’ve extrapolated,” the Bolian replied. “Based on what little intelligence is known about Dominion ship design and technology, and shared the data with the others at Engineering and Sciences.”

“Pooling our combined talents,” Stalac added, replacing the images of Gault with breakdowns of the Dominion vessel. “We’ve built up a general picture of the interior of the vessel... and where we might need to go to disrupt the Combustion devices.”

Sasha stared hard at the images. “Mr Boone, you mentioned something earlier about tracking your daughter. What did you mean?”

Peter looked around him. “Residents on Gault have subcutaneous transponders with ID tags; it’s a big planet with so few people on it, and it was considered a precautionary safety measure in case of accidents. I know Abby’s ID tag number.”

“So you can track her location even with everyone on the planet making their way to temporary safety?”

“Yes, the weather satellites also have tracking sensors for that very purpose.”

Sasha went silent for a moment, before finally concluding, “We’re splitting into three teams: Zir, you, Mr Boone and Ms Emoto will beam down to Gault when we reach orbit, make contact with his daughter and the leader of the local government, ensure they get to those transport ships on the West Coast; even if they can’t launch, they should offer protection from the fire, and Ms Emoto can offer supervision in securing their integrity-”

Urad raised his head. “I wish to accompany the team to the surface.”

Sasha looked to him. “You’re not needed on the surface, Mr Kaldron.”

“But Comrade Lieutenant-”

“Urad,” Tori suddenly interrupted, looking embarrassed but keeping her temper. “Thanks for worrying, but I don’t need you to watch me all the time. I’ll be fine, and we have a job to do.” She looked to Sasha. “Sorry for butting in, Lieutenant.”

Sasha nodded back. “I’ll lead the second team onto the Dominion ship, along with Neraxis, Eydiir, Mr Kaldron, Mr Stalac and Mr Ostrow, with half of us offering a distraction while Stalac and Jonas access their systems and shut down-”

“Excuse me, Sash,” Jonas cut in now. “But I think Ms Emoto and I should switch roles.”

“Oh? Any particular reason?”

“Ms Emoto has a proven aptitude for on-the-spot analysis of alien systems, whereas I know those transport ships and support systems on Gault better, and can turn them into impromptu shelters in no time.”

Sasha nodded at that, looking to Tori. “How about it, Ensign? Can you keep it together over there?”

The younger woman almost looked ready to give in to indignation over the question. But then she responded with a more controlled, “Yes, Ma’am. I can do my job.”

“Okay, then. Giles, you remain in command onboard the Tailless with Ms Michel and Kit, beaming each team to their respective locations, and staying cloaked and out of trouble as much as possible while you monitor our communications. Kit, you’ll keep an eye on the results on Gault, on the Jem’Hadar and our own systems, and advise accordingly. Ensign Dassene, your priority is to get the survivors to safety in case we fail up here.”

The Orion nodded. “Yes, Ma’am.” 

Sasha looked around them again. “We’ll do everything we can to stop the weapon on the Dominion ship from destroying any more of Gault. If we can’t… we'll try and blow them up. And if we can’t do that… Giles, you’ll send a final signal back to my Dad… and then crash head-on into the Dominion ship. Are we clear on that?”

A heavy silence hung over them, as Giles nodded sombrely.

Kit glanced at the PADD in his hand. “Respected Lieutenant, the combustion has reached the East Coast of the main continent, and-” He glanced up, round eyes widening. “It is accelerating! The fire will consume the rest of the planet in under four hours!”

Sasha looked to Giles. “Get us into orbit over the main continent, now!” As he returned to the cockpit, she continued. “Zir, you, Jonas and Peter pinpoint his daughter’s transponder and be ready to beam down!” They left, and Sasha turned to her friend. “Neraxis, get to my weapons locker, get what you can for us! Mr Kaldron, sorry, but I doubt if there’ll be anything designed for your hands.”

The Hroch raised a head-sized hand as if in illustration, tightening the thick fingers into a fist. “Thank you, Comrade Leader, but I will not need weapons.”

Standing beside him, Neraxis thumped him playfully in the chest. “So long as you remember you’re not indestructible, Man Mountain.”

Urad grunted. “I will, Comrade Lieutenant... and I swear I will control myself... until you say different.”

Sasha turned to Tori and Stalac. “Your mission over there will be to identify the control sections for the Fire devices, take them over and disable or destroy them. You’ll be armed, Ms Emoto, but Eydiir will provide personal security. Neraxis, Mr Kaldron and myself will provide a distraction elsewhere.

As we’ve just heard, time is of the essence. I suggest taking a trip to the hygiene chamber so the shit doesn’t hit the fan.”

*

Admiral Tattok looked like if he could climb through the viewscreen and get into Hrelle’s face more directly, he would. “You went off deliberately without speaking to me first, Captain!”

Hrelle affected a look of concerned innocence. “Sir, I’m frankly shocked that you would think that! Starfleet General Order 10-”

“Are you seriously going to hide behind Regulations, Hrelle?”

The Caitian paused, before continuing. “My... apologies, Sir. This is my daughter we’re talking about. She went to Gault because one of my crew, a former cadet, has a daughter there. And she’s sent us a warning about the potential destruction of an entire world, with tens of thousands of people there-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself any further, Captain. Based on the data Lt Hrelle sent us about the forces there, I’m sending the Thunderbolt, the Wasp and the Minotaur to catch up with you and my hothead of a son – and speaking of which, you can tell him he can stop pretending to have communications problems on the Ajax.”

Kami entered Hrelle’s Ready Room, as he nodded at the screen. “I will do, Sir. And I thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for; as far as the official records are concerned, I sent you and Weynik ahead while I decided on your back-up.”

Hrelle nodded sagely, as Kami came round and leaned against his desk, her tail brushing along the surface. “I’m glad we have such decisive leadership at the proverbial helm, Sir. You’re a credit to the Admiralty.”

Unaware of Kami’s presence in the room with Hrelle, Tattok cursed and ended the transmission.

Kami crossed her arms and smirked. “How salty. What can I do for you?”

“Me? Nothing.”

“Oh come on, there must be something.”

He leaned back in his chair and looked up at her. “The newest members of our crew; how do you think they’ll handle themselves if we go into battle?”

She stared at her husband in thought, before shaking her head. “No.”

“‘No’? What do you mean, ‘No’?”

“I mean that doesn’t interest me, and anyway you’re not really bothered by them. I want to know what’s going on in your head about Sasha.”

“Sasha?”

“Yes. You know, Sasha? Strawberry blonde hair, smart mouth, you’d take on the Universe to protect her-”

“Yes, I know my own daughter! Why are you asking about her now?”

“Because your scent is so thick with worry for her I could swipe the air between us with my claws and rake it.”

He stood up to face her, his tail smacking the side of his chair. “And do you blame me? They’ve gone off into enemy territory in a tiny little Caitian flyer, outnumbered, outgunned, on some damn foolish rescue mission! What possessed her to do something so insane?”

She shrugged. “Almost an entire lifetime of seeing her father do the exact same insane things? Especially when cubs were involved?”

“Oh, so you’re blaming me for her behaviour?”

She shook her head. “I’m not here to cast blame on you, but praise: praise for the skills you’ve taught her, for the example you’ve set. She’ll survive, and get her crew back intact, and probably save a planet or two along the way.”

Hrelle stared at her. Then he pointed at her. “That’s not gonna save her. I’m going to kick her ass when I see her.”

“Of course you are.”

“I mean it! I’m going to kick her ass around the entire length of this ship, from stem to stern! There will not be a room onboard where she will not get her ass kicked!”

“Absolutely.”

“I’m being serious, Kam!”

She nodded. “I know.” She straightened up and moved to the door.

He glared at her swishing tail. “I hope you weren’t too attached to her ass, because when I’m through with her she certainly won’t be!”

She waved in his direction without looking back at him as she departed.

He grunted to himself. All the damn females in his life were such utter ball aches... except for Sreen, he amended with a smile. She’ll never give him worry...

*

“We’ve identified Abby Boone’s transponder!” Zir declared from her station in the cockpit, clutching Peter’s forearm. “She’s alive... but on the move, towards a large facility near the West Coast!”

“The Central Spaceport,” Peter identified, eyes bright with hope. “Where the freighters or their storage modules land to collect the grain.” He looked to Sasha. “Can we beam her onboard?”

Sasha glanced out the cockpit windows, looking at the edges of Gault, all black and red from the all-consuming fires below. “No.”

“No? But-”

“The moment we decloak to use the transporter, we’ll be in danger of being detected. Better to beam you, Ms Dassene and Mr Ostrow down to the Spaceport to meet with the local authorities, and where you can meet her in person, safely, and without spiriting her away without warning from the people around her.

Jonas, Zir: tell the authorities there’s a Starfleet force in orbit doing everything they can to stop the enemy... but maybe not tell them it’s just a pack of Snotnoses in one tiny ship. Remember: we’re still Starfleet, we’re taking over authority, regardless of whatever petty little bureaucrat you might meet. Understood?”

As if in illustration, Zir, Peter and Jonas accepted hand phasers from Neraxis, holstering them at their sides as they nodded.

“We’re in transporter range,” Giles announced, “I’ve identified the Central Command Centre in the Spaceport.”

“Astrid, be ready to switch the Prowl unit back on immediately after transport, then take evasive manoeuvres in case we’re detected.” Sasha motioned the three officers to the transporter unit, currently operated by Kit. “Good luck.”

Jonas nodded again. “You too.” He reached out and clasped his wife, before drawing back, as transporter columns enveloped him, along with Peter and Zir.

The Tailless banked sharply to port, Sasha grabbing hold of Neraxis to steady them both. “Sorry.”

The Bolian grunted. “Typical: my husband’s not gone a minute, and you’re fondling me.” She handed the human a Caitian plasma pistol. “I saved the special goods from your Grandma’s larder for us.”

“Good. Now this next part’s gonna be trickier, because there’s no way we can get close enough to the Dominion ship to beam over all of us without being detected. They’ll call in the Scarabs to track you down, Giles. Avoid a fight, and if we don’t report back in thirty minutes-”

“I understand, Sash. If you can, though, try not to leave me making that decision.”

“I’ll do my best.” Sasha reached for her Kaetini sword, strapping it at the back of her waist, as Eydiir, Urad, Tori and Stalac joined them. “Kit, have you identified the optimum locations to beam us?”

“Yes, Respected Lieutenant: there appears to be a sparsely occupied area in the mid-aft section of the ship, with numerous control stations for Best Friend Eydiir’s team, and one more central for your own destination. I have detected approximately fifty Jem’Hadar there, and one Vorta.”

Urad slammed his fist into his open palm. “Good. Many scoundrels to pummel.”

“Only when you’re ordered, Mr Kaldron,” Sasha clarified. “Is that clear?”

The behemoth straightened up. “Of course, Comrade Lieutenant.”

Sasha turned to glance at the huge arrowhead-shaped vessel dead ahead, looking menacing and invulnerable compared to her own. An elephant menaced by a mosquito.

A mosquito can still deliver a lethal disease to the largest of animals, she reminded herself. “Eydiir, you, Mr Stalac and Ms Emoto beam over first. Good luck.”

As Kit sent their three friends over, inside of Sasha, a voice urged: stop this. Call them back, collect the others on Gault and flee. They can’t be expected to take on an entire Dominion ship alone.

Except... she knew they could be expected. They could be expected to fight, and if necessary, die, in the service of the Federation and its peoples. It came with the uniform.

She stepped forward. “Let’s go.”

*

Zir straightened up as she felt herself reform in a new location, with a slightly different gravity and atmosphere than on the Tailless: a large area surrounded by windows, which overlooked a huge flat paved plain filled with large rectangular modular vessels, and many smaller ones that were lit up as they descended to join their gigantic brethren.

Closer at hand, Chaos Reigned, as workers at stations frantically guided the outside vessels into descent patterns, or shouted at each other for updates and clear channels, while others stood by, looking lost.

Then all eyes turned at the arrival of the three young officers in the centre of the chaos. Some drew weapons.

Jonas held up an open palm to them, shouting, “DON’T FIRE! WE’RE STARFLEET!”

There was a tense, frozen heartbeat of time, before weapons lowered again as the uniforms were recognised, and a large, older, pepper-haired human woman in a plain business suit approached, wrinkled face creases further with anxiety. “I’m Governor Macdonald. What’s going on up there? Have you stopped the Dominion? Why have they attacked us?”

Jonas met the older woman’s emotion with composure. “I’m Lt Ostrow, this is Ensigns Dassene and Boone, part of the... task force sent to deal with the Dominion. We believe they’re testing a new doomsday weapon on your planet. Our vessel is currently engaging with the forces in orbit, we’re here to ensure the safety of the population until then.” He nodded to the huge vessels. “Are those empty? Can they take in the survivors now arriving?”

“We can’t take off! The first few ships we sent up to escape the Dominion were shot down!”

He nodded. “They don’t need to take off, just provide temporary shelter for your people.”

Macdonald’s expression took on a suspicious, angry mien. “Why? Why do they need shelter? Aren’t you going to stop them up there?”

“We’re going to do everything we can, Governor...” He lowered his voice slightly. “But there has been so much damage done already to Gault. Even if further combustion is halted, the atmosphere of the planet has been tainted, and it’d be safer to keep people in a controlled environment until we assess the extent of the damage.”

Macdonald stuck out her chin. “I want to speak to your Captain.”

“She’s busy, risking her life and the lives of everyone else up there to stop the enemy. I’m here to assist your people in preparing those vessels to become shelters... and under Article 12 of the Federation Charter, as the senior representative of Starfleet present, I am assuming authority here during this crisis.” He paused, clarifying in a confidential whisper, “But I’d much rather leave you at the front of it. These are your people, they know and respect you, and are more willing to comply with your orders than a stranger’s.”

Macdonald regarded him, before turning to her right. “Markham! Lieutenant Ostrow will need to see the operational schematics of those Carriers! We’re making shelters out of them for the time being! Follow the Lieutenant’s lead!”

Ostrow nodded and followed the other woman, as Zir and Peter approached now, the latter announcing, “Governor, I’m from Gault, originally, the Uzkayareka Commune in the Gora Basin.”

The older woman nodded. “I know it. Are you asking about survivors from there?”

He nodded. “My daughter Abby Boone, and her mother, Claire Hastings. We detected my daughter’s transponder on the move to the Spaceport.”

She motioned for them to follow to one station. “Pirelli, you reported the flyers from Gora were on approach before our guests arrived. Check the received manifests for the young man’s family.”

The balding man with a headset wrapped around his head sat at the station nodded without looking up. “They’re both on the next flyer, it’s about to land at Pad 14- wait-” He pressed a control on his headset. “Flyer, you’re coming in too fast, your angle- PULL UP!”

Lights from the window caught everyone’s attention, as a flyer dropped, not with the grace of the others around it, but looking more like it had been shot at in mid-air.

It struck the landing pad. And rolled over, again and again, the wings ripping into pieces and flames spitting everywhere...

*

Eydiir had her phaser drawn as she beamed over with the two junior officers, her eyes and arm sweeping in every direction, passing her weapon over Tori and Stalac, listening, her Capellan fighting instincts taking over. Then she nodded to Tori, speaking quietly. “Find a suitable station.”

The young human raised her tricorder, nodding down one corridor – but then stopping, whispering. “There are lifeforms near, but I can’t pinpoint them.”

Eydiir nodded, stepping forward, weapon arm raised again, other hand near her kligat, the crescent-shaped throwing blade favoured by her tribe back home. She would protect these people. She would help save a world. If she died, so be it-

She paused, glancing around a corner at an open lab area, where she saw one of the Dominion’s dogsbodies, a Vorta male, standing in a vertical chamber, with some sort of device lowered over the upper half of his head, as he groused, “This is intolerable. I should be monitoring the progress of the Conflagrators-”

“Do not move, Vorta,” a gruff voice from someone unseen replied. “You are disrupting the engrammatic recording.”

Eydiir watched the Vorta stiffen as much as possible, before muttering, “This could have waited. The Founders would understand-”

“Do not speak, either.”

Eydiir frowned as she studied the equipment, confirming it was some sort of device recording the memories of the Vorta. Why? Was it some sort of security measure? He might have been a valuable lackey to the Dominion.

And therefore, his death would serve the Federation.

She raised her phaser, adjusting the setting to Kill, and aimed at the Vorta.

And hesitated,

It made sense, to kill him.

And still she hesitated.

A lifetime ago, she would have finished him off without a second thought. Any of her people would have. And if the Vorta was attacking her now, or one of her people or an innocent, then there would be no time for debate.

But he wasn’t adoing any of that now. And she was no assassin.

Then a high-pitched, grating sound filled the air: some sort of alarm.

Jem’Hadar stepped into view, alerted. They saw Eydiir, and reached for disruptors at their hips.

Eydiir fired first, taking down one, then another.

She raced forward into the lab, focused on the Vorta under the recorder- he glanced to his right, Eydiir’s left-

She turned and fired blindly, ducking as a disruptor bolt almost struck her, before she raced up to the shocked-looking Vorta, pulling him out from under the headpiece and holding onto him from behind, a phaser at the Vorta’s head as she shouted over the klaxon, “Drop your weapon, or I’ll kill him!”

The Jem’Hadar kept still, disruptor raised.

Closer to Eydiir, the Vorta made a sound, and offered, “An ill-judged tactic, Starfleet. I’ve just had my most recent memories copied, and a replacement clone awaits to receive them. There is no real reason to protect me, except to complete the current tests.”

Eydiir tensed, ready to aim the phaser at the Jem’Hadar-

Until she saw the wall behind the Jem’Hadar smoke, smoulder wildly, before vanishing, as Stalac emerged, the Jem’Hadar turning and trying to fire, before falling backwards, the Horta slithering over him, still pumping acid.

Acrid fumes filled the air, making the Vorta cough, as Tori appeared at the doorway.

Eydiir froze, staring with naked concern now – not for her own safety at the actions of the Horta, but the reaction this would engender in him, knowing that Stalac had undergone tremendous guilt the last time he had killed in this manner, on the Surefoot. That he would do this now-

“Fascinating,” the Vorta noted. “Did you genetically engineer this creature for combat-”

He stopped as Eydiir pressed the tip of the phaser to his head. “Shut up. Ensign Stalac... are you okay?”

Stalac sat there, silent but for the rapid pulsing of his body as he recovered from his exertion... and his actions. Then the voder on his combadge provided a reply, “I will be fine, Lieutenant. I- I hope I did the right thing, under the circumstances-”

“A molecular acid,” the Vorta continued, observing the remains of the Jem’Hadar and the floor around it. “Possibly of the hydrosulfuric variety, quickly oxidising and rendering itself neutral. Are you silicon-based, Ensign-”

His question punctuated with a yelp, as Eydiir tightened her hold on him. “I told you to shut up. Ensign Emoto, keep an eye on the corridor.” As the young woman complied, Eydiir made the Vorta face her, and she shoved the tip of the phaser into his chest. “Who are you?”

“My name is Vonbran. I am in command of this project.”

“So you know how to shut it down?”

He frowned. “Why would I want to do that? I haven’t finished my experiment-”

“It’s finished!” Stalac declared, rumbling towards him. “People have died because of your damned experiment!”

Vonbran backed away from Stalac, until Eydiir stopped him. Then he turned to her. “Lieutenant, I will expedite your efforts to end the Conflagration process, if you agree to take me with you. You’ll accomplish your goals much more quickly with my aid!”

“You’d betray your own people, you little prick?” Tori demanded in disgust. “Why?”

Eydiir raised the phaser to under his chin. “A good question. I was led to believe the Vorta were bred to be infallibly loyal bootlickers.”

He smirked at her description. “To a general degree that is true. But the Vonbran lineage is focused on scientific endeavours, which I have found can override the genetic conditioning. I am equally willing to pursue my research under the Dominion... or the Federation.” He nodded to a burning section of the lab. “And as a stray weapons bolt has destroyed my clone, I have become immensely valuable to you.”

“We should take action soon, Lieutenant,” Stalac reminded her.

Eydiir agreed; their friends would be busy with far more resistance than has been met here.

*

Sasha had her own weapon drawn as she beamed into existence alongside Neraxis and Urad, in a central intersection of the ship. And a good thing, too, as they materialised just as a nearby door slid open, and a Jem’Hadar appeared. He forwent the weapon at his side to charge at Sasha.

She shot point blank into his gut, the plasma beam cutting through his midsection, separating the two halves of him and sending them in opposite direction.

Yuck.

She moved over the cleaved body to the still-open door, checked inside to ensure no one else was in here, and took a defensive position, as more Jem’Hadar appeared from one direction, and then another, firing disruptor bolts, Neraxis and Urad joining her, the huge weaponless Hroch stepping fully into the room. “Comrade Lieutenant Hrelle-”

“Not yet,” she replied, reaching for a plasma grenade, checking on Neraxis, who stood beside her, firing at the Jem’Hadar racing in from the other direction, and a high-pitched alarm began sounding. “So much for the element of surprise.”

Neraxis dropped to one knee beside the Jem’Hadar corpse, still firing as she grew accustomed to the cycling rate of the plasma rifle. “You sure as frick surprised this bastard.”

With one hand Sasha activated the grenade. “And now he’s half the man he used to be. GRENADE!” She arced the grenade high in the direction of the Jem’Hadar she was firing at, before leaning back behind the doorway, Neraxis and Urad following.

A hot wave of plasma energy, and a deafening sound, travelled up both ends of the corridor, making Sasha’s ears pop and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Thank you, Grandma, for your thoughtful collection of kick-ass weapons. Her head still ringing, she shouted, “Mr Kaldron... it’s Pummelling Time!”

Urad punched his open palm and charged out the door. “SCOUNDRELS! MEET YOUR GODS!”

Sasha and Neraxis glanced at each other, Neraxis declaring, “That boy needs to get laid. I don’t suppose that you-”

“No.” They rose to charge out in the opposite direction, hoping everyone else was okay.

*

Zir and Peter clung to the handrails and footrails on the rear of the firefighter truck as it raced out of the Operations Centre tower and towards the crash site, other vehicles and pedestrians racing in the general direction. Zir peered around the side of the truck, her hair flowing behind her, looking at the fires spread out among the debris. She didn’t see any bodies. Please, please let no one be hurt, or worse, inside...

Peter was stiff, unmoving, as if trying to force his strength through his limbs into the truck to make it move faster. He nearly fell over as he jumped off the truck before it had stopped, racing towards the main body of the crashed flyer, which had ended right side up at least, if battered and ripped open towards the aft section. Zir and several of the firefighters raced up as well, Peter grasping the manual emergency release control on the side hatch, dropping to a crouch to enter when the gull-wing door was only still halfway up.

Zir dodged around the firefighters applying suppressant foam to the burning debris as she followed her squadmate inside, coughing at the smell of acrid smoke in the compartment. There were rows of passenger seats along the length of the flyer, and people, harnessed and belted, were in various states of injury, the less-injured unbuckling themselves and either evacuating or helping the more injured.

Her instincts to assist took over, but before she began administering aid, she glanced down the aisle between the seats... and saw Peter on one knee, tightly holding a crying blonde child, his hand on the back of her head, reassuring her, even as tears stained his own face. Beside them, a slim, dark-haired human woman, obviously the child’s mother, unbuckled herself and rose to join them.

Zir thanked the Fates for their safety, and didn’t want to interrup... but also knew that there were many injured here. “Peter! We’re needed!” After a moment, she added, “Get them to safety, then get back to assist!”

*

Giles appreciated the flight harness belts on the cockpit seats of Sasha’s ship, and its high manoeuvrability and other gimmicks not found in a Starfleet runabout.

Whether or not that will save them from the six Jem’Hadar trying to lock in on them and fire was open to debate. “Keep watch-”

“I’m keeping watch, damn it!” Astrid responded sharply, her hands moving over the Prowl controls, altering the cloaking frequencies to counter the measures taken by the enemy ships.

Giles didn’t take offence at her response; for all her obvious talent, she was still inexperienced, and this was probably her first time in battle in a small ship. Never taking his eyes off the screens of the cockpit windows, he asked, “Hey Kit, anything to tell us?”

Behind them, Kit clung to the edges of his station, his breathing as rapid as the combat moves they had to make. “It- there is no appreciable change as yet to the combustion on Gault - I’ve detected weapons fire on the Dominion ship-”

“No messages from Sasha or the others?”

Kit didn’t answer. Which was his answer.

Giles checked the chronometer. Another fifteen minutes, and with no response, he had to stop this.

He changed course. “Ready a microtorpedo.” Just ahead, one of the Jem’Hadar Scarabs was banking around, unaware of their approach. “On my mark, decloak. Kit, make sure the energy allocation doesn’t drop too much, we’ll have to recloak and bank away.”

“We’re going on the offensive, Lieutenant?” Astrid asked.

“Looks that way.” He kept his eyes fixed on the impulse engines on the Scarab. “If we’re gonna die in a quarter-hour, let’s see about taking as many of them with us as possible.” He keyed in the firing controls, dropped the Prowl and launched the microtorpedo, before banking away, recloaking again.

“It worked, Best Friend Giles!” Kit exclaimed. “The warhead, that close to their exhaust-”

“-Is probably an unrepeatable trick,” Giles opined, seeing the other Scarabs move in on their last location. “Let’s see if I can come up with something else. As Papa Cat used to tell me: ‘There are more ways than you’ll expect’-”

“‘To kick your opponent’s ass’,” Kit and Astrid finished in unison.

*

Sasha noted the low power levels on her blaster, reminding herself once more why swords and blades were still so prevalent in so many technologically-advanced cultures. Then, hearing Urad’s bellows just around the corner, she grasped the hilt of her blade and drew the narrow black blade out, bracing herself for anything-

But still not expecting to see the mammoth Hroch Security officer staggering and swinging about, arms extended, as six Jem’Hadar clung to him like leeches, trying to pierce his blubbery flesh with their weapons, while three more Jem’Hadar were attempting to climb over their fellows to get to Urad’s head, which was more vulnerable to their blades.

Frick me, it was like a pack of jackals trying to bring down a hippo... She launched herself at them, the three Jem’Hadar turning to face her in time for the first one to lose his head, sending it arcing up and bouncing almost comically away, the decapitated body spurting ugly red-black blood from its stump.

Sasha dove and parried as the second Jem’Hadar attempted to stab her, and she countered by taking off his arm at the elbow, the monomolecular thinness of her sword’s blade slicing through flesh and bone like water. To his credit, he still tried to ignore his massive trauma to attack her with his remaining arm, even as the third Jem’Hadar was reaching for his disruptor.

Sasha raised both arms up to tackle them, realising too late that she might have made a mistake-

The sound of a plasma bolt filled the air, as the top of the third Jem’Hadar boiled and splattered, burning the right side of Sasha’s scalp and sending shards of pain through her skull. She cursed and fought down the pain as she twisted to get her sword back up to finish off the second one, even as Neraxis moved on to the ones fighting Urad, shooting them in the back, one after the other, giving Urad the chance to reach up and begin grasping the remaining ones, ripping them off his limbs and breaking them as he roared.

Sasha killed the second one, helping herself back to her feet as she helped kill the rest of them and assessed the situation, asking through gritted teeth, “Ensign Kaldron?”

He turned to her, reaching up to touch blood-stained patches on his jacket and collar. He gasped, breathing heavily, his eyes glazed in shock. “They- They tried to stab me in the throat-”

Neraxis drew up to him. “Holy Hraxor, they did cut you, near your collarbone-”

“Grab their disruptors,” Sasha ordered, hearing heavy footfalls rapidly approaching. “Mr Kaldron, if you want to stay back for now-“

But the younger officer picked up a long piece of twisted metal, debris from the phaser grenade earlier, gripping it like a spear. “I... I do not, Comrade Lieutenant.”

She nodded at that, and then gestured down another corridor with one of the retrieved disruptors. “Then let’s move, keep them away from the aft!”

*

The Vorta sat down at what appeared to be a master console, his hands moving over the keyboards- until Eydiir pressed the tip of her phaser against the side of his temple. “If there is any sign of treachery, I will put a hole in your head a shuttle can fly through.”

Vonbran made an amused sound. “Understood, Lieutenant.” He nodded up at the multiple displays of Gault. “Perhaps instead of suspicion, you could offer some appreciation of my genius? The Conflagrator warheads I designed require very little in the way of resources, but have the potential to cauterise the surface of an entire planet in a matter of hours.”

Beside him, Tori was on one knee, setting up an interface to his console with Stalac’s tricorder, mounted to his side. “Do you know how many innocent people are down there, prick?”

He nodded. “Of course; an accurate number is necessary for the report.” He glanced down at her. “I have no personal malice towards them, young lady, or indeed anyone. My scientific pursuits are bereft of politics.”

“You might pursue science without politics,” Eydiir informed him acidly. “But not without conscience.”

Vonbran grunted. “Hopefully the Federation will provide me with one when I defect. There; I’ve shut down the Conflagrators. The Western Hemisphere remains scalded, the combusted materials will shroud the upper atmosphere and reduce sunlight for several years, and I would recommend filtration treatments for the contaminants in the air, but I’ve saved half of the planet for you.” After a moment he added, “You’re welcome.”

“Don’t expect a medal,” Eydiir told him. “Ms Emoto? Mr Stalac?”

Tori rose and brusquely shoved the Vorta to one side, examining the readouts. “Yes. The prick has detonated the Conflagrator warheads in Gault’s orbit-”

“My name is Vonbran,” he informed her mildly.

Eydiir ignored him. “Mr Stalac, have you accessed the ship’s systems?”

“Yes, Lieutenant. I can confirm Ms Emoto’s assessment. I have also accessed the ship’s security systems.”

The Vorta looked down at him. “You can do that?”

“There is a firefight in the forward section- Jem’Hadar are on their way here now!”

“Take cover! Protect the prisoner!” Eydiir raced towards the doorway, drawing out her kligat, seeing nothing there yet... but flinging it ahead of her anyway, the blade making its familiar high-pitched whistling sound as it soared out, sticking into something in the air... as a shrouded Jem’Hadar, the kligat sticking in his chest, came into view upon death.

Even as his body continued to fall, she reached out and retrieved her weapon, holding one crescent end and slicing open the jugular of the Jem’Hadar with the other end, even as she fired by instinct, making more of the enemy drop their natural shrouds and become visible.

She was strong, stronger than most humans, but the Jem’Hadar were stronger, and outnumbered her. But the Dominion’s super-weapon was stopped, the rest of the planet was saved. If she had to die today-

A phaser beam centimetres away from her head struck a Jem’Hadar, sending him down, and she used the break in the dynamics of the fight to strike out with her own phaser and her kligat, even as Tori, who had fired seconds before, brought down another Jem’Hadar, and Eydiir dispatched the final one.

She glanced down the corridor, confirmed no one else was on their way, and turned back to the others, focusing on Vonbran, standing there, looking paler than usual from the mayhem. “Can you access the control systems of this ship? Lock out the rest of the Jem’Hadar elsewhere and give us command?”

The Vorta held out his arms. “Easily, Lieutenant. Then we can return to your ship and-”

He paused, stiffened, eyes wide with confusion.

And gasped as a second mouth seemed to open across his throat, sending dark blood gushing down his front.

Seconds later, a Jem’Hadar unshrouded behind him, as he finished slicing wide open Vonbran’s throat with a knife.

Tori cursed and raised her phaser, but Eydiir was faster, firing and striking down the Jem’Hadar, before rushing up to catch the Vorta and help him down to the floor, the blood gushing out from a wound that she knew was not treatable, not with the extent of the wound and the lack of medical equipment. “Easy- Easy-”

Vonbran gasped repeatedly like a fish out of water, eyes staring upwards, the life ebbing quickly from him like his blood.

Eydiir looked over at the last Jem’Hadar, who was still alive, watching the Vorta die, as if he clung to his own fading life long enough to fulfil this one last duty. Eydiir grunted. “You distracted us sufficiently to get in here shrouded and finish him off. My compliments.”

The reptilian solider, who wore the ranks of a Jem’Hadar First, nodded, his voice raspy as he replied, “V-Victory... is Li-Li...”

He dropped.

“Lieutenant,” Stalac reported. “I’m detecting new systems brought online: a self-destruct mechanism! This ship will blow itself to pieces in a minute’s time!”

Eydiir rose and slapped her combadge, communications silence be damned now. “Eydiir to Tailless! Gault is spared, but this ship will self-destruct in the next minute!”

There was no response.

*

“Eydiir to Tailless! Gault is spared, but this ship will self-destruct in the next minute!”

Kit clung to the station as a disruptor bolt rocked against the ship’s shields, his stomach ready to throw up half-digested beetles; not the way he preferred to leave this life. “Best Friend Giles-”

“I heard!” Giles banked sharply again, trying to drive two of the Scarab fighters together and possibly collide. But they were too good, and the Tailless couldn’t cloak any longer. This was it-

Until it wasn’t, as a Scarab to their right shredded beneath the relentless barrage of phaser pulse bolts, and then another, and the Ajax swept into view, banking and pursuing the remaining Jem’Hadar vessels, and Kit announced, “The Surefoot and Ajax are here!”

Elation rose inside Giles. Damn, Papa Cat, you’ve got great timing... “Contact the Surefoot, get them to scan and beam over our people from the main ship and then back off before it blows!” As Kit relayed the instructions, he took the Tailless around, not sure of how far away they had to go to be safe,

He glanced at Astrid, who was pale, silent, eyes wide and welled with tears as she stared blankly ahead, her entire body tense, clutching the edges of her station so tightly she looked ready to snap a piece of it off.

“The Surefoot have evacuated our people,” Kit announced happily. “And are withdrawing from the vessel.”

“Thanks, Kit,” Giles said with genuine relief, still looking at Astrid. “Ensign Michel.” When she finally looked at him, he continued. “It’s over. Relax. You did great.”

Astrid seemed to begin breathing again, and she made a show of lowering her arms, swallowing and nodding.

And then a bit of familiar swagger returned. “Of course I did, Lieutenant. Just you wait, I’ll be in your position before you know it.”

He smiled. “I have no doubt.”

In view, the main Dominion ship blossomed white with energy, like a miniature sun over the half-burned but still living planet below.

*

Crew moved aside as they saw Hrelle march down the corridor to the Transporter Room, his hackles raised and tail snapping like a whip behind him. “When I see her, do you know what I’m gonna do, T’Varik?”

His First Officer kept pace behind him, while avoiding getting smacked in the shins by his tail. “Yes, unless you’ve changed position from the 114 previous declarations you have made.”

“I haven’t. And no court martial in the Galaxy will find me guilty, either.”

“That is open to debate, Captain-”

He growled.

She made no further attempts to argue the matter.

They entered as six columns of energy appeared: four average-sized humanoids, one large Hroch, and one low Horta. Hrelle continued to growl as the figures solidified, the one in front a battered, cut, exhausted-looking Sasha, stepping down from the platform and stopping as she saw Hrelle. “Dad?”

He rushed up and embraced her with all his might, making her squeak.

*

“USS Surefoot, Captain’s Log, Stardate 52580.72, Captain Esek Hrelle, Recording: The Jem’Hadar task force field testing their Conflagrator weapon on Gault have been destroyed, and our sister ships have caught up with us in time to offer assistance to the survivors on the planet.

The injuries received by our Starfleet crew who had ventured here ahead of us have been treated, and statements have been taken about their actions. Lt Hrelle has accepted full responsibility for journeying to Gault without contacting her superiors first, refusing to implicate Mr Boone or any of the others in any way.

So I have obliged with her wishes, and placed a note of reprimand on her record, even as I have awarded notes of commendation for her colleagues who helped stopped the Dominion and save what was left of Gault.

The ecosystem on the planet has been heavily damaged, but, true to the nature of most colonists, the Governor and her people have made it clear their intentions to remain and rebuild their homes and lives. I have no doubt that they’ll manage, at least in the short term, and given their new importance in food production for the War refugees, I recommend Starfleet Command offer any and all available support.

On a personal note, I am readying to return to Cait with my family – including my ballache of a daughter – for a long-overdue shore leave, and putting aside war for a while...”

*

Doc Masterson pushed the front of his Stetson up from his forehead and smiled at the young girl he was examining. “Well, I must say you are sure as shooting the fittest little filly in these parts!”

Abby Boone looked up at him, then to her father. “Is that good, Dad?”

Peter, standing with Claire, laughed and nodded. “Yes, it’s good, Buttercup. Thanks, Doc.”

Masterson straightened up, and then produced a set of lollipops of different colours from his medical smock, fanning them like a hand of cards in front of Abby. “Help yourself to your favourite colour.”

Abby chose red, looking to Peter for approval before popping it in her mouth, as Masterson drew closer to the adults. “Your daughter and friend are fine, Mr Boone.”

“Told you we were okay, Pete,” Claire nudged him.

“There’s no harm in a second opinion.” Peter looked to Masterson. “Sorry to bother you, Doc.”

“No bother at all, Petey. The rest of the medical staff are still planetside, dealing with the injuries and working out the filtration adaptations to deal with the airborne contaminants, so I’m happy to have something simple to manage.”

“Thank you, Doc,” Claire said, “If you ever want a change of scenery, you’ll be more than welcome on Gault.”

He nodded, tipping his hat to her. “I’ll put it on the back burner for now, but thank you kindly.”

Peter took Abby’s hand and walked out with Claire. “Are you guys hungry? Or maybe you’d like a tour of the ship?”

“Yeah!” Abby declared from the side of her mouth lacking a lollipop. “I wanna see the ship!”

“Another time,” Claire offered, looking to Peter. “I think we all need to sit down and talk.”

Peter nodded at that, nodding ahead. “The Officer’s Mess.”

It was quiet in there, with windows overlooking Gault, revealing part of its blackened, smouldering side. He provided Claire and himself with coffee, and Abby with a sundae, offering a smile that he didn’t feel, unable to shake his fear about where Claire might be going. “So...”

She cradled her cup in her hands. “We had an arrangement, Pete, before Abby was born: when you were secure enough in your new career to be allowed dependents, you’d take full custody of her. You know it, I know it, Abby knows it.

The question is: do you still plan on doing that?”

Peter stared, breathing out with some relief, as he heard someone enter the Mess Hall, but ignored them. “You- You don’t want to change that?”

She shook her head, glancing out at the window. “I never want to leave Gault. Even now, the way it is. She needs me, needs all of us to help her heal, now more than ever.” She looked back at Peter. “You never felt that way. And Abby’s inherited that from you. You’ve seen her bedroom, all the starcharts and ship pictures and every single image you ever sent her up on the walls. She wants to be out here. With her Dad.”

He looked down at her daughter, who was scooping up ice cream with the remains of her lollipop. “Buttercup... would you like to stay with me?”

She looked up at him with big wide eyes and a mouth full of ice cream and nodded, making enthusiastic sounds and dribbling chocolate sauce onto her sleeve, prompting him to wipe it clean with a napkin.

Then he looked back at Claire. “Won’t you miss her?”

She looked back wistfully. “Of course I will. How couldn’t I? I gave her life, nursed her, changed her... told her off when she still stayed up all night reading her adventure books.” She glanced at Abby, who was pretending not to be listening, before looking back at him. “But I won’t be any less her mother if I’m not there, than you were any less her father when you weren’t there. And I’ll still expect plenty of letters and images, and visits when you can.”

“Of course, of course!” Peter looked between them, excited... and then alarmed. “Damn-”

Abby pointed a finger at him. “Language.”

“What is it?” Claire asked.

He leaned back in his chair. “I’m sitting here making all these plans, and I still haven’t had even asked the Captain! What if he says No?”

“I doubt that,” replied a familiar female voice from nearby.

They turned to see a brown-furred Caitian female in a blue-bordered Starfleet uniform rise and approach, tail swishing behind her, followed by a metre-high Caitian male cub in a minikin Starfleet uniform, but red-bordered – with his muzzle stained with juice from the bowl of snozzberries he was eating from. The female smiled. “Sorry for eavesdropping. I’m Counselor Kami Hrelle, and this little tail chaser beside me is my son Misha.”

“Captain Misha,” the cub corrected between bites.

Kami took a seat beside the others. “And you must be Claire, and this very, very adorable little one is Abby.”

Peter nodded. “Yes, Counselor. Um, you really think the Captain won’t mind?”

“What, having another cub underfoot to spoil?” She smirked, focusing on Abby. “And I’m sure our nanny won’t mind providing some tutoring, the way he’s doing for Misha.”

Abby looked up at her, the remains of her sundae forgotten. “Are you really a cat lady? Do you purr?”

Peter flushed. “Abby, she’s not a ‘cat lady’, I told you about Caitians-”

Kami waved off his chagrin, coming around to squat beside the fascinated child, still smiling at her. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do purr.... if you stroke my fur.” She held out her paw. “Would you like to try?”

Abby nodded eagerly and began doing it. Kami began leaning in and purring against the side of her head, making the child squeal with delight.

Standing nearby, Misha finished his snozzberries, set aside the emptied bowl and wiped his muzzle on his sleeve, looking unimpressed as he informed Abby, “She only purrs to make you take baths and eat vegetables.”

Kami stopped and looked to her son. “And who exactly is ‘She’?”

Misha rolled his eyes. “I mean ‘Mama’, okay?”

“Hmph. And Abby, if it’s okay with your Mom and Dad, maybe while they go with me to talk to our First Officer about you staying onboard, my son can take you to the Arboretum and smell the flowers?”

Misha nodded enthusiastically. “We go to the Bridge and fire fizzers?”

“Yes,” Kami agreed. “Or you can do as you’re told, and go to the Arboretum and smell the flowers?”

The cub harrumphed, but walked around, holding out a paw to Abby in invitation. “Okay, you come. I take you, I show you where I fought a Bad Lady...”

Abby looked to her parents, got their approval, and hopped off the chair, taking Misha’s paw as they scampered out of the Mess Hall. As the cubs departed, Kami warned with a smile, “You should know ahead of time that my cub is probably planning their wedding now... but I promise you it won’t get any further than him asking for wedding cake.”

Peter laughed, but then asked, “Counselor, are you sure we shouldn’t speak with the Captain about all this first?”

The Caitian smiled. “Yes. Besides, he’s busy following some Counseling advice right now about an unresolved issue.”

*

Hrelle had his back to the Ready Room door when it chimed. He never moved as he responded, “Enter.”

The footfalls, and the scent told him who entered the room and stood at attention.

He said nothing, continued to pretend to stare out at the Galaxy.

Then Sasha commenced with, “I hope I’m not here to get grounded as well as a note of reprimand, because right now I wouldn’t mind a few more days before I go back to the Ajax.”

He tensed. “I’m glad you can make light of your actions. That note of reprimand means you’ll be barred from further promotion for the next two years.”

“Oh. I guess I’ll have to content myself with having helped save thousands of lives.”

Now he swivelled about to face her, his hackles raised. “You’re not even going to attempt to show any regret for what you did?”

Sasha crossed her arms. “And what exactly did I do that would warrant regret? Is it because I took action on my own initiative?”

“You didn’t just take action, you deliberately chose not to contact me first. Why not?”

“Because you might have said No!”

“Yes! And what does that tell you? You chose to go off into what you knew had become occupied territory, against superior forces, carrying a shipload of inexperienced officers who relied on you for guidance! Anything could have happened to you, and we never would have known until it was too late!

What if the Thirteenth Fleet had been recalled? What if we were needed to attend to an emergency? We would have had to go without twelve highly valuable officers onboard! You know how essential we are, what a difference we all make!”

“We saved Gault-”

He bolted to his feet, slamming his furry fist down on the desk. “YOU GOT LUCKY! YOU MIGHT NOT THE NEXT TIME!”

The sharp sound of his fist, his bellow, made her start. She recovered quickly. “I made the right decision. If you had said No, it would have been because you’ll always see me as your Runt of the Litter. Your little girl.”

He fixed his gaze on her. “If I had said No - and that’s a big If - it wouldn’t have been because of that.” He straightened up. “When I received your transmission, I took off to save you, and convinced Weynik to accompany me, without getting authorisation from Tattok first... because I didn’t want to give Tattok the opportunity to say No, either.”

Sasha reacted to that. “So... I guess I know where I get it from, then. But you can’t deny that it all worked out for the best.”

“In the short term, yes. In the long term, will the Admiral fully trust me again? Maybe at a time when I really need him to, will he have second thoughts, because I previously chose not to trust him? And you, you have far less experience to back up such maverick decisions than I do. We might applaud your successes now, but the steps you took to get there won’t be forgotten by the Powers That Be.

Sasha, part of the many burdens of command involve being aware of the effects of our decisions, not just immediately, but months, even years to come. And in remembering that your decisions don’t just affect you, but everyone around you.

It’s a terrible burden. And it can’t be avoided if you want to command.”

He walked around his desk to stand before his daughter, relaxing his tone. “Sasha, I won’t deny that there are times when taking the initiative, bending the rules, and even defying orders, is necessary. But it should be the last resort, not your default one.”

She turned to him, softening her own tone and stance. “I’m sorry, Dad. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. And I’m sorry I put the others at risk.”

He regarded her for a moment. But then he gave in to his instincts and embraced her tightly.

When he drew back, she wiped her face. “Well, I was looking forward to making Captain before I was thirty.” She nodded to herself. “But I deserve that reprimand.”

Hrelle felt himself flush under his fur. “Oh, that. I, ah, accidentally deleted it after our last briefing.” He shrugged. “Me = Big Dumb Cat.”

*

Neraxis picked at her plate of grilled rotted meat. “I’m gonna miss the replicators on the Surefoot. The ones on our new posting won’t be as good, I just know it.”

Opposite her, Jonas spoke between bites of his goulash, accustomed to his wife’s singular Bolian tastes by now. “Well, you can always ask a gifted engineer to reprogram the replicators when we get there.”

She pointed her fork at him, eyes brightening. “Excellent idea, Scrappy! You know any?”

Kit wheezed with laughter as he tucked into his bowl of crickets. “Do you see, Best Friend Jonas? Your wife is hinting that you are not gifted!”

Opposite him, Eydiir glared at him. “Are those insects intoxicating, Kit?”

“Only in their savouriness, Best Friend Eydiir.”

Beside him, Giles smiled wistfully. “This is gonna be weird, with three of us going away and three of us staying... and teaching a new generation of Squabs.”

“Hardly Squabs now,” Eydiir pointed out. “They’ve been through too much.”

“And they’re pretty good,” Jonas added. “Zir handled herself with distinction on the planet, supervising the medical and rescue teams when one of the flyers crashed. The others acquitted themselves just as well, I heard.”

Giles nodded appreciatively. “Astrid is certainly a pretty talented pilot.”

“When she has her hands on the controls and not on you,” Neraxis quipped.

“She’s not like that,” he corrected, clarifying, “She’s evolving. We all are.”

Then Sasha entered the Mess Hall, sitting down backwards on a chair and looking to them, breathing out before speaking. “Sorry I’m late; Dad was chewing my ass off.”

“That explains the length of time of your absence,” Eydiir joked.

Sasha offered her friend her middle finger, before taking the remains of her nachos and chilli beef, picking at it without really eating anything, looking thoroughly deflated. “I thought I knew what I was doing out there. That I was experienced enough to handle anything. I was wrong. We were lucky.” She scooped up some chilli on a nacho, ate it and licked her lips, pushing the bowl back to Eydiir. “I’m sorry, guys.”

“You don’t have to apologise, Sash,” Jonas told her. “We all went into it, eyes open.”

“And it all worked out for the best,” Neraxis added. “Yeah, our shore leave was shit, but we saved that kid, and most of Gault and its people.”

“And no one’s expecting you to be all-knowing,” Giles reminded her, smirking now. “We’re not James Kirk, after all.”

“Kirk!” Kit raised his head. “As we do not know when we will next be together, perhaps we could indulge in another round of-”

“Kirk: Bullshit or Not?” Giles prompted, chuckling. “Well, one more for old time’s sake.” He paused in thought, before offering, “Bullshit or Not: Captain Kirk once met Abe Lincoln.”

Sasha rolled her eyes. “Aww man, you’re not even trying now, are you?”

“Completely ridiculous,” Jonas shook his head. “Lincoln...”

“Who the frick is Abe Lincoln?” Neraxis asked.

The Mess Hall doors parted, as Zir and the rest of her Alpha Squad, Zir stepping forward. “Lt Hrelle? I’m sorry to bother all of you...”

Sasha rose to her feet to face them. “No bother, Ensign. What can we do for you?”

The Orion woman looked to the others as she replied. “I know we’ll all be returning to active duty shortly, but before that I wanted to offer our appreciation for all your help.”

Peter beamed. “Yes, thank you! Abby will be staying onboard permanently with me; the Counselor and First Officer are arranging our quarters now. I.. I owe you.”

“We all owe you,” Zir corrected.

Sasha smiled back. “We’re all Surefooters... and we’re all Alpha Squad. We don’t owe each other anything. Some of us are going off to our new postings, but we’re having a last meal together before that. Care to join us?”

Zir smiled. “Don’t mind if we do.”

THE ADVENTURES OF THE SUREFOOT WILL CONTINUE...