Surefoot 18: Inseparable

"Me?" he muttered, "Oh, I'm peachy. I sent my daughter over to this ship, let a machine violate her body and now she's on a countdown to her own death! And I'm responsible!"

"Yes," she agreed softly, nodding. "You did all that. You knew what would happen here, and you still sent her over. You utter bastard. You wanted her to suffer and die. I can't believe I share a bed with you-"

"This is no time for sarcasm!"

"There's always time for sarcasm. Just no time for self-pity. She doesn't need the father wrapped up in pathos and self-recrimination. She needs the father who can save her from this."

The words choked in his throat, and he felt tears well up in his eyes as the enormity of the situation struck him, and his voice was a fragile whisper. "But I- I don't know if I can-"

She brought a finger to his snout and silenced him. "Yes, you do. And you will. You'll do whatever it takes to save her. I'll probably hate you for it, but that doesn't matter. Get both your tails home safely."

He nodded in assent, taking the equipment from her and rubbing the side of his muzzle against hers. "Go." As he started back to Sasha and C'Rash, he slipped on his most confident expression and asked aloud, "Hrelle to Surefoot: I don't want any more unnecessary people over here."

"Acknowledged, Sir."

As he set the equipment down beside C'Rash, the Caitian looked up. "You're not necessary here either, Esek."

"Yeah, Dad," Sasha agreed, still breathing hard. "You have a wife and child."

"Shut up." To C'Rash he added, "You too, cub. Get to work."

She grunted, but complied, fitting the units of the headband over her right eye and into her right ear. "Computer: access link to Holodeck, activate Interactive Program titled Major Smithereens." She shook her head. "I'm gonna have words with whoever named that stroking program."

Hrelle squatted down beside Sasha. "How you doing, cub?"

"I have to pee; take my mind off it."

"Okay. How about I do my impression of a waterfall?"

"Or maybe you can just talk about something?"

"Sure. I just heard that your grandfather Mi'Tree is going back into the vivids, for a reboot of his Clawback series, and he's apparently trying to diet so he'll look good on the big screen. But apparently he's still sneaking shuris sticks whenever Bneea is looking the other way."

Sasha smirked. "Sorry I won't be around for the premier."

He frowned, but continued. "And Kami and I are breaking with tradition and revealing the Bump's name before he's born: Misha. It's a combination of Mirow and Sasha. What do you think?"

She smiled wistfully. "That's lovely. He's gonna be a wonderful cub, I'm sure. Make sure you tell him about me."

"Um... yeah. And I've heard rumours that they're going to get Jean-Luc Picard himself to give the speech at your graduation."

She blew a raspberry. "He's a windbag. I'm glad I won't be around for that."

He set a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sensing a pattern here. And it's a wrong one. We're going to get you out of this."

"You don't know that."

"I do," he lied.

She grunted at that. "I still need to pee."

He shrugged. "So pee; your cousin and I won't care, and our uniforms are very absorbent."

"I'm not peeing my pants. I'm twenty years old today. Twenty-year-olds don't pee their pants." She winced in pain, looking across at C'Rash. "Anything to report, Cousin? I had some wonderful plans for this hand of mine tonight."

C'Rash was twisted about on the floor in a position enviable to most humans - and to older Caitians with an understandable paunch, like Hrelle - but now sat up, her expression sober. "The filament control mechanisms are buried deep in the machinery, past six detonators in the mine. I'd- I'd have to disarm all six before we can free her arm. It's going to take 18 minutes, minimum."

Sasha saw the expression. "So what's the bad news?"

"The mine's going to detonate in 15."

The Universe held its breath.

"You're wrong," he declared. "I'll help you with the disarming-"

"The space down here is very limited; your huge chunky hands can't fit down here alongside mine."

"Nanites - we can inject Nanites in to-"

"It'd take too long to program them and inject them into the right places."

"And we can't just beam Sasha away before it detonates?"

"It's a subspace isolytic charge, Esek! Once it senses the transporter beam, it'd detonate and rip through local subspace, and override and tear apart even the most secure transporter beam! She'd end up looking like a pile of dropped lasagne!"

"Nice," Sasha muttered.

Hrelle swallowed. "Then get back to work."

"What? Didn't you hear me? I can't-"

"I said GET BACK TO WORK!" He fought the shaking he felt rising inside him. No. No, his baby wasn't dying over here. His teeth gritted, he snarled, "T'Varik! Are you still listening to all this?"

There was a change in tone to the Vulcan's voice. "Yes, Sir."

"And are the cadets listening as well?"

"Yes, Sir, they-"

"Listen up, all of you: you're supposed to be the Best and the Brightest. Prove it! One of your own needs you! Find a solution! NOW!"

After a moment, T'Varik replied quietly, "Aye, Sir."

"Jeez, Dad," Sasha chided softly, "You're acting like this is a matter of life and death."

He looked to her, forced himself to calm down again. Kami had been right, Sasha didn't need a desperate old man crying out for a solution.

"One detonator disarmed, moving to the second," C'Rash announced, breaking the silence. "Detonation in 13 minutes."

"Captain," T'Varik spoke up. "There is a possible solution, we've discussed it with Doctors Ling and Kline, and it appears feasible, but will require immediate action-"

Sasha looked up, wiping sweat off her face again. "Hey, Commander, what are we waiting for, whatever it is, let's do it!"

"What do we have to do?" Hrelle asked.

"Amputate Ensign Hrelle's arm."

He heard the breath catch in Sasha's throat, as he coughed, "Excuse me?"

"According to the latest readings, the filaments have not as yet extended to the shoulder; the arm can be removed above the location of the filaments without triggering the mine's defence systems. A biosynthetic limb can be prepared, of course."

"My arm," she whispered.

Hrelle stiffened, but quickly realised it made sense, as horrible as the idea was that she would have to undergo that in the first place. "Send a doctor over, and hurry."

"Acknowledged, Sir."

He looked to Sasha. "Sweetheart..."

She was trembling, but asked, "Can you get me some water from the Galley, Dad? It's just two sections fore-"

"Yes. Yes, of course." He squeezed her shoulder, rose and raced out.

His baby- she would survive this- plenty of Starfleet personnel have had amazing careers with biosynthetic limbs. They were as good as the real ones, indistinguishable. And doctors on Cait have been performing minor miracles with cloning parts.

She would be fine. Fine.

He pulled a door off of the cabinet in the galley when it didn't open quickly enough for him. Luckily for the rest of the room he found a bottle of water and raced back - quickening even further when his ears picked up the distress between Sasha and C'Rash.

Back in the Cargo Bay, he saw Sasha tugging at her arm, panicking, while C'Rash, her hands full on the other side of the mine, was almost shouting. "Sasha, you have to stop that! You're making it spread further! Worse, you'll set off the mine!"

But the girl wasn't listening, her face screwed up in terror. "I HAVE TO GET OUT! I HAVE TO GET OUT!"

He dropped the bottle and rushed up to her. She was tugging at her arm, twisting, panicking-

Until he wrapped himself around her, clamping his arm over hers, his muzzle against the side of her face, immobilising her.

And then he began singing:

"A gentle breeze from Hushabye Mountain

Softly blows o'er Lullaby Bay.

It fills the sails of boats that are waiting

Waiting to sail your worries away."

Her struggles, her cries continued, but she was reacting to his warm, soothing, melodious tone. Distantly, he heard the transporter whine, and smelled the Klingon surgeon Doctor Kline appear and approach. But he focused on his lullaby, one that came to him from the depths of his memory, amazing himself with how many of the words he recalled.

"It isn't far to Hushabye Mountain

And your boat waits down by the quay.

The winds of night so softly are sighing

Soon they will fly your troubles to sea."

Then Sasha was calming down, leaning against him for support, her breathing laboured but slowing down.

"So close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain.

Wave good-bye to cares of the day.

And watch your boat from Hushabye Mountain

Sail far away from Lullaby Bay..."

The Cargo Bay was silent.

Dr Kline ran the tricorder over Sasha, the Klingon frowning as he snapped the lid shut. "I am sorry, Cadet, but your struggles have extended the filaments into your chest cavity; I cannot perform the amputation now." He raised his chin. "But you will die with honour-"

Hrelle turned his head to him with a murderous glare, teeth bared. "Get back to the ship."

Kline drew back, visibly intimidated in a way he never felt before, before recovering quickly, nodding, rising and departing. Hrelle looked challengingly to C'Rash; the younger Caitian reported, "I'm on the third detonator."

"How much time until-"

"Ten minutes."

Hrelle nodded. "Keep working."

The younger Caitian stared for a moment, before replying, "Aye, Sir."

As she continued, Hrelle made a sound. "It's okay, Sash."

The girl's breathing remained heavy, but she murmured, "I'm sorry, Dad- I'm sorry, I just-"

"It's okay, darling. Everything's going to be okay." Wanting to take her mind off her panic, he asked, "Do you remember that song? The movie it was in?"

She nodded slightly, wincing in pain at the effort. "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. I haven't thought about that in years."

He smiled. "I remember when you first heard what it was about, and you went all Junior Engineer on your mother and me, and explained how a gas combustion vehicle of that era could not possibly be made amphibious or flightworthy. Half an hour into it, you shut up and wouldn't let anyone else talk. You hated the Child Catcher, though."

"He was frightening! The way he pranced about, and got those kids trapped in that wagon-" She coughed, her body writhing until he tightened his hold on her until she recovered. "I peed myself."

He nodded. "I know. It doesn't matter."

"N-No- I suppose it won't, in, what? Nine minutes?"

"Don't think about it-"

The tears fell from her. "I have to. Go back to the Surefoot. You have a family now-"

"Yes, and you're part of it."

"You have Misha on the way!"

"And you're his big sister. You are going to babysit him, and read him stories, and sneak him snacks even when he isn't allowed them, and watch Chitty Chitty Bang Bang with him. And that's just part of a whole life you have ahead of you."

She was crying again. "I- I have to talk to Giles. To Kami. T'Varik. My friends. I have to- have to tell them what they mean to me-"

He shook his head softly. "You think they don't already know? You don't exactly hide your feelings. You get that from your mother."

"And you."

"Probably."

She coughed again, the effort to breathe getting harder as the filaments made contact with her lungs. "Please go- There's no- no way out for me-"

He hugged her tighter. "Do you know how many times I told myself that? When I was in a seemingly hopeless situation in command, or when I was a slave? When I was sure I would die and never see you or your mother again? Never give up hope, Sasha. Please."

She was breathing hard now. "N-No hope to give up anymore-"

"Captain!" T'Varik's voice broke the tension. "We might have something!"

Hrelle smiled. "Told you..." Louder now, he asked, "What is it, Commander?"

"Mr Ostrow has a possible solution."

Jonas' voice replaced the Vulcan's. "Sir, I've been studying the data feed from Lt C'Rash's eyepiece. In addition to their anchoring properties, the mine's filaments act as sensors, reading Sasha's biosigns like she was the interior of a target vessel. But the detonation sequence depends on those readings remaining stable, or it thinks its target is already damaged or destroyed; radically altering or stopping those readings will reset the sequence, withdrawing the filaments and freeing Sasha!"

"So what should we do?"

More soberly, he explained, "We've got remote control over the ship. We decompress the Cargo Bay and leave it a vacuum, and in about five minutes, the filaments should retract and the mine go into Standby."

"Decompress-" Sasha paled. "Jonas, I'll die in five minutes."

"As opposed to what will happen a few minutes later? You won't be the first person revived from space exposure, in fact I'm told it's an easier procedure than giving you a new limb!"

"He's right, I've had it done myself more than once," Hrelle pointed out, saying more loudly, "Jonas, if this works, I'll gonna hug the stuffing out of you!"

"Um... thanks, Sir?"

"Captain," T'Varik interrupted. "We've accessed the controls for the Eight of Swords, and are prepared to initiate decompression. You and Lt C'Rash should return immediately."

He nodded to himself, but corrected, "C'Rash is beaming back, but I'm staying with Sasha."

"What?" The girl looked up at him. "No! You can't stay! You'll die too!"

"She's right," C'Rash agreed. "You're acting like an idiot macho hero!"

"And you're out of line, Lieutenant! T'Varik, beam her back when she's out in the corridor, I'm staying here, understood?"

"...Acknowledged, Sir."

C'Rash left her tools on the floor as she rose, looking outraged... and anxious. "Aunt Kami's gonna kick your ass when you get back."

"I'm sure. Get going."

She cursed - but then looked to Sasha. "You make it back safely, Cousin."

She rushed out; as Hrelle heard the transporter whine, T'Varik spoke up. "Decompression will commence in thirty seconds, Sir; once the atmosphere is vented, we won't be able to communicate by audio, but we will monitor your status-"

"Understood - get going!" He leaned in close to Sasha and spoke softly but urgently. "When the atmosphere is blown, release the air from your lungs. All of it. The instinct will be to hold your breath, but that will just increase the carbon dioxide in your blood, which will increase the feeling of panic, and run the risk of your lungs rupturing; that will just lengthen your recovery time. Then you'll pass out after about 15 seconds. Fortunately we'll be recovered and restored before we balloon up and turn purple."

She was breathing faster now. "I'm- I'm scared-"

He stroked her hair. "I know. That's why I'm still here. Whatever you go through, I'll go through with you. You're my daughter. I love you."

"I love you too, Dad."

The docking bay doors all opened as one; unlike the Surefoot, there were no atmospheric force fields here, so the air inside the ship rushed out with a deafening roar, taking anything not heavy or secured into the void.

Hrelle wrapped himself around Sasha like a blanket, feeling her shudder, hearing the last vestige of a cry escape her before the air fully evacuated and left them in a vacuum. She struggled reflexively, but he held her tighter, not wanting to disturb the filaments inside her and delay their eventual release, his greater size and experience allowing him to stay conscious longer.

Then his cub stopped struggling.

And still he held on, singing to her in his head: "So close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain / Wave good-bye to cares of the day / And watch your boat from Hushabye Mountain /Sail far away from Lullaby Bay..."

He resisted his own advice, holding onto the air in his lungs in order to maintain consciousness, in order to watch. At the twilight zone of his awareness, he saw Sasha's arm pull away from the mine, the wires withdrawing back into the black surface. He drew her back, both of them falling to the floor of the Cargo Bay, protecting Sasha's head. As he passed out, he swore to come back and haunt T'Varik like bad things if she didn't save th-

*

His head throbbed like a warp core on overload; always a good sign of life.

His eyes still closed, he smelled and listened to the things around him: the biobed monitors, the pungent antiseptic odour of dermal patches and the soft hum of the Sickbay environmental recycler in the upper right corner of the room and-

Sasha's scent, nearby, coupled with her soft breathing. He smiled to himself.

"Oh, so you're awake?" came a familiar, welcome voice.

He opened his eyes, looking up at Kami. "Hey there, Little Mother. I take it-"

Her open hand swung out and struck the left side of his snout, sending a ringing through his skull, and a pain that lingered long afterwards. He looked to her; she ignored the reactions of Commander T'Varik, the doctors and nurses in the room as she declared, "THAT'S FOR SCARING YOUR SON AND ME HALF TO DEATH!"

He nodded, moving his jaw about as he tasted blood. "Fair enough."

She moved to the adjacent bed; he looked to his left, to see Sasha lying there, her eyes open, offering a slight smile as Kami drew closer, her expression changing to one of deep, gentle affection as she reached out and touched the girl's face, speaking loudly enough for him to be included. "I am so glad you survived, Sweetheart. And that your father was there with you to make sure you weren't alone. I knew he would never leave you. He is such an amazing, infuriating man. I love him, you know." She touched her belly with her other hand. "Misha says to get better soon."

"Thanks, Little Brother," Sasha replied, reaching out and touching Kami's belly too, and looking bemused by the actions of seconds before.

"I'll stop off at Alpha Squads quarters and let them know you're awake and can visit in the morning - and to let a certain Mr Ostrow know how grateful I am that for his efforts." Kami smiled at her - but spared one last scowl at Hrelle, as well as an incredibly filthy curse in Old Caitian that made him blink and made Sasha, the only other person in the room who understood the language, gasp.

As Kami departed, T'Varik raised an eyebrow. "The Universal Translator did not explicate that. I will assume that it is best I stay ignorant."

"Yes, but I'm hoping I can sleep on your couch tonight."

Dr Ling stepped forward. "You and your daughter will be staying here; we've repaired the damage to your bodies, and you'll both make a full recovery, but I want to keep an eye on you both tonight. And there'll be no more visitors, and that includes the members of your Squad, Ms Hrelle, as well as your pestering boyfriend."

Hrelle nodded as Ling and the medical staff left, leaving only T'Varik. "Status?"

"You were beamed back and revived 13.42 hours ago. As Mr Ostrow predicted, the mine reset itself and went into Standby Mode, and Lieutenant C'Rash has since returned to the Eight of Swords and secured the mines. We have informed Starfleet Command, and Admiral Tattok has ordered the USS Tortuga to deliver a specialist EOD Team to complete the disarmament. They should arrive in 6.4 hours, allowing us to make our rendezvous with the Tempest within an acceptable timeframe."

"Good. And when I'm back on my feet, I want to implement those plans we have for Jonas."

"Yes, Sir."

Sasha half-sat up, lying back down again and pulling the sheets up as she realised her state of debility - and undress. "What plans?"