Surefoot 12: Caitian Holiday

"Who are you?" snapped a sharp, rusty voice.

Hrelle started, glancing to one side of the porch to see a skeletal figure leaning on a cane: ashen-furred but with an ugly bald patch on the pate, a rarity for Caitians. Clad in a heavy black sailor's coat, his tail hung limply, lifelessly from behind, and the eyes were black and beady as it focused on the visitor. "Well? Who are you?"

Hrelle swallowed. You've aged... "Papa?"

He never reacted, except to declare, "I have no cub."

Hrelle's heart was racing now. It had been, what? Mother's Cubs, thirty seven years? "Papa, it's Esek- Sherresek. Your cub-"

He tapped the end of his cane four times on the porch, punctuating each word. "I. Have. No. Cub."

Hrelle stepped up tentatively hands outstretched, and realised he was trembling from something other than the cold. "Papa... please. I didn't come to fight with you. I wanted- I wanted to see you." He breathed out. "So much has happened to me. And you." He looked around. "I heard about Prelish moving the business-"

"I don't discuss private matters with strangers."

Hrelle supposed he should have expected this reaction. He might have considered calling ahead, to warn the old man, but feared an outright refusal. "Papa... things have happened to me since I left. I was married... and widowed. I have a stepdaughter. I've commanded starships, faced victories... defeats. Now I'm married again. And maybe someday I'll have a cub. You might be a grandfather-"

Suddenly Sherresek swung out his cane, smacking the side of the house and sending shards of paint flying. He reached out with his free hand to support himself, but found the strength to stab the cane in Hrelle's direction as he announced loudly, "I have no interest in your private affairs! Leave my grounds!"

Hrelle stared back, not expecting to want so much to reach some sort of accord between them before now. "Stop it, Papa! I'm... I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you so much by not staying, by not taking over the business. There were times..." His voice dropped to a fragile whisper. "There were plenty of times when I wished I hadn't left. I was... I was captured. Tortured. And all I thought about during those times was manning the boat and bringing in a catch of nightbacks or sleeks that would have made you proud-"

"Cry me some tears, cub, the ocean's drying up."

Hrelle stared hard. He really wasn't budging, was he? Not even a micron. "Papa, look at us. We're old. We're both old. Our time in this life is limited. I came here because I wanted to at least try and rebuild something between us-"

"Did your Starfleet teach you how to turn back time?"

The question threw him, making him recall classified briefings on the Temporal Prime Directive, on slingshots and paradoxes. "Um, no. No, they didn't."

"Then there's no point in coming here. Get off my property, and don't come back."

The sheer stubbornness on the part of the man was daunting. Hrelle's disappointment grew into resignation. "I'm... I'm sorry you feel that way. I'll say my prayers at Mama's marker and-"

"You most certainly will not."

"Excuse me?"

Sherresek's face screwed up in contempt. "This is the home of the Hrelle clan. Our Gardens are our own. Not for strangers."

"STOP IT! YOU KNOW WHO I AM!"

Sherresek glared. "I know who you were."

Hrelle stared - and gave up arguing. "Fine, be like that. I'm going to pay respects to my mother's Marker anyway. If you don't like it, you can kiss my furry ass."

As he wandered around to the back of the house, his bare legs scratched and caught in weeds and tanglewood, he wondered why he was doing this. He wasn't religious; though he believed in the principles the Great Mother taught, he didn't believe in a literal Great Mother. But he wanted to do something positive, significant, while he was here - and if it pissed off his old kussik of a father, that was a bonus.

The clan's Memorial Garden was in a shocking dilapidated state; he couldn't see the Markers with all the overgrowth, and his fleeting memory was of little help. But he eventually found his mother's: a simple white knee-high pylon. Then he began clearing away the growth around it, as much as he could, and stood staring at it for a moment. There were many times as a cub when he came here, but he didn't think then that he properly grasped the significance of having these in a clan's Memorial Garden.

"Mama..." His voice was lost in the wind whipping around the trees, making them rustle. He knelt and cleared his throat, feeling choked up. He tried to dredge up some distinct memory of her, but thought that the few he had were just fabricated by his need for them. "Mama... I'm sorry. I'm sorry things didn't work out between Papa and me. I'm sorry you weren't around to help us patch things up. I'm sorry I haven't been by before now." He was clutching his hands now, ignoring the prickling of his skin beneath his fur at the cold gradually suffusing his body. "I'm sorry you can't meet Sasha, and Kami. I like to think you three would get along-"

"You! Get up from there!"

Hrelle started; it wasn't his father's voice, but another, younger, and he turned to see two Caitians in the red-black uniform of Constabulary officers. "What the-"

They were approaching carefully, their hands never straying far from the stun pistols on their belts, the closer one to Hrelle taking the lead in the conversation. "I said get up from there! Slowly!"

The realisation of the situation struck Hrelle immediately. "He called the police on me?" Disbelief and rage made him stand up and look to the darkened house, roaring, "YOU CALLED THE FUCKING POLICE? WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU, YOU MISERABLE OLD BASTARD?"

"Don't move, sir!" the other officer, a cub who didn't look old enough to have had his first fur trim, told him. "Just keep your hands raised where we can see them, and your claws in!"

Hrelle forced himself to calm down. He didn't know why he should have been so surprised, really. "It's okay, Constable-"

"We'll be the judge of that, sir! We received an emergency call, a deranged male attacked Mr Hrelle and began vandalising his clan's Gardens-"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" But then he realised his outrage wasn't helping his case, and he calmed down again. "Look, this is just a domestic dispute, a family squabble. I have a right to be here."

"We can get this cleared up quickly, then. Are you on the Clan Registry?" the first one asked.

"I- ah.." Seven Hells...

*

Sasha had made her way alone to the beach, took off her clothes, threw down a towel and lay back, occasionally squinting up at a young cub and gently refusing their offer of playing, but promising to make it up to them later, preferring to be alone with her thoughts. Which were a mewling jumble, like a pack of kittens falling all over each other to get to their mother's milk.

Was Kami right? Sasha didn't know why she even asked herself that; it was like asking if her Dad loved her. How was she going to handle this?

A shadow blocked the sun. "Hmm, look what washed up on shore. I claim salvage rights."

Sasha peered over her shades, both pleased and displeased by C'Rash's presence, like she was an emotional reinterpretation of Schroedinger's Cat. "Didn't expect you up. And speaking to me."

The Caitian crouched down beside Sasha, her tail reaching out and teasing Sasha's thighs. "Why wouldn't I be speaking to you, Tailless?"

Sasha blushed. "I, ah, fell asleep on you. When you... had other plans."

"Hmm, that's true." She reclined close to Sasha, facing her, one hand reaching up and lightly tracing an outline around one of Sasha's breasts. "I'll let you make it up to me..."

Sasha ignored the reaction from her breast and reluctantly reached up to stop the touch. "C'Rash..."

"Mother's Cubs, I know that tone." C'Rash sank back onto one elbow, but looking more amused than frustrated.

"C'Rash... I want you. I never, ever expected to want anyone like you - not another woman, not a Caitian. But I do. But I'm in a relationship with someone else right now, and though we're not Bonded, not married, we're... an item-"

"Enough, Tailless."

Sasha's face burned. "I hope we're still okay?"

C'Rash looked up and grinned. "Very. But you and Aunt Kami are going to kill me."

"Kill you? What for?"

The Caitian sighed. "Well, you've left me needing a good hard fucking, but the only other one here I'm interested in is your father. He is gifted-"

"Bitch!" Sasha smacked her, initiating a play fight that led a chase into the water, triggering cheers from the younger cubs.

*

Kami strode into the study, momentarily distracted by the unfamiliar scent in the room: a female Ma'Sala's age, with markings similar to her son's betrothed. She bit back her initial announcement as Mi'Tree rose and smiled. "Kami, there you are! You can meet Jnill, sweet Ptera's mother, and Matriarch of the Mroara-Lnee Clan."

The other female rose and smiled politely; she had an accent from one of the more posh regions, near where Rrori was raised. "A pleasure to finally meet Mirow's mother. I can see where he gets his beauty from."

"Thank you." Kami embraced her - immediately not liking her, though she reminded herself that her attitude was unfair, that she very much liked the female's daughter, and that what she was feeling now was most likely fed from the bad news she had just received. "A pleasure to meet you too. Please forgive me, but..." She looked to her fathers. "I need to get to R'Trerah. Esek's been arrested."

The others who had been sitting in the room - Mi'Tree, Bneea, Ma'Sala, Mirow and Ptera - rose in shock, Mi'Tree booming, "Arrested? What for?"

Suddenly Kami acknowledged too late that bringing up bad clan business in front of her son's betrothed and imminent Bond-mother a day before the wedding might not be the most sensible course of action. On the other hand, this was an emergency, and it wouldn't be a wedding without a crisis. "His father had him arrested for assault and criminal trespass."

"What?" Mirow exclaimed. "Why would he do that?"

"I told you they were estranged. Esek wanted to pay his respects to his Mother's marker, his father refused so he went anyway, and his father called the police."

"That's horrible!" Bneea muttered. "Who would do that to someone wanting to honour his mother?"

"Excuse me," Jnill spoke up, her posh accent seemingly demanding attention. "Who is this person we're speaking of?"

Kami eyed her. "My husband. My second husband."

The other female nodded in acknowledgement. "So, not Mirow's kin-father?"

"No. Why?"

"No reason." But the female looked visibly relieved at the news.

Yeah, Kami decided. I really don't like you, bitch.

"This must be some misunderstanding," Mi'Tree declared, his baritone voice a soothing palliative. "I'm sure his father will straighten out matters."

"I don't think so, Papa." She didn't want to say anything, especially with the others here, but... "When Esek left for Starfleet, his father declared him R'Nesikith."

It was as if a thief had taken all the sound from the room.

"You're joking," her son finally murmured.

"I wish I was, Mirow."

"How could he do that to him?" Ptera asked with genuine shock and sympathy, looking to her mother. "Esek's a wonderful man!" Her mother, however, looked dubious to her daughter's compliments.

"No, no, no," Mi'Tree was saying softly, shaking his head and smiling a little at Kami, as if his daughter was in error. "You misheard. No parent would do that to their own cub. Not over an argument over career. That would be ludicrous."

But as he continued, as it visibly sank in for him, it began to sound more and more like he was trying to convince himself than her or the others. "You don't- you don't disown your cub because they want to do something different with their lives! That's like disowning them because they prefer fried shuris to grilled, or because they desire someone of their own gender! It's absurd, it's- it's..." Now the outrage overwhelmed him, making tears rise in his eyes. "WHO DOES THAT TO THEIR OWN CUB?"

Kami approached him. "Calm down, Papa, your heart-"

But he was fairly shaking with fury now. "I've a good mind to beam up there right now and give that old fossil a piece of my mind!"

"Think you can afford it?" Ma'Sala quipped.

"Don't test me, woman! My Bond-son has been cruelly mistreated! This insult cannot go unchallenged!"

But the Matriarch just grunted. "Yeah, I can see you two old bastards circling each other for an hour or two, hissing and snapping and waiting for the first one to keel over from the cold."

"Mama! Papa!" Kami snapped. "This isn't helping Esek!"

"No," Jnill agreed suddenly, unexpectedly, getting everyone's attention. "But this will help us."

They looked to her, Bneea the first to ask, "What do you mean?"

The older female drew up, as if disbelieving their inability to see the obvious. "Well, with Kami's second husband incarcerated on the other side of the world, this will avoid any awkward questions being raised as to why there's a Clan Traitor in your midst."

Kami stepped forward. "Clan Traitor? Weren't you listening? His father did that to him because Esek wanted to join Starfleet instead of run his family's fishing business!"

Jnill smirked condescendingly. "Yes, I'm sure that's what he told you it was about, dear. But like the old saying goes, 'There's no scent without sweat'." Now she sneered. "Those R'Trerah types are backward. More than likely he was caught abusing cubs-"

Kami's hand, claws extended, shot out, clipping the Matriarch across her muzzle, smacking the sneer off her and sending her sprawling.

"Kami!" Her fathers drew up and pulled her back, as Mirow stepped between the two females, shocked.

Ptera had moved to her mother, who clutched the side of her snout, blood dripping between her fingers, hazel eyes livid with choler. "You bitch! You dare strike me? I'll kill you!"

Kami bared her teeth along with her claws, fighting the hold her fathers had on her. "Don't talk to me about killing! I've killed! It means nothing to me! And neither do you!"

"Mom!" Mirow pleaded.

"Enough."

Everyone looked to Ma'Sala, a statue of calm command. Once she had their attention, she continued. "Kami, Jnill is Matriarch of her clan, and a guest in our house. Apologise to her."

Kami almost defied her mother - almost. Relaxing her posture, letting her tail droop again, she offered a controlled, sincere, "I... I am sorry. The news of my husband upset me, that's all."

The other female said nothing, just glared, leaving Ma'Sala to add, "There, I am certain Jnill understands. Just as I am equally certain that she will now apologise to you for her words."

Jnill looked to her in shock. "Me? I should apologise?"

Ma'Sala stepped closer, her voice still measured and cool. "Of course. Without any proof whatsoever, you openly accused a member of my clan, a decorated hero of Starfleet, of the Federation, of abusing cubs." Then her expression tightened dangerously. "I take such accusations very seriously, as any Matriarch would. But I'm certain your words were spoken without considered thought. And you will retract them." She stepped even closer. "Now."

Jnill helped herself back to her feet, her muzzle twitching, the scratches on one side red and ugly. She visibly mustered the necessary strength to respond with, "I... am sorry for my words. I have no proof of what your husband has done to earn his dishonoured status."

As apologies go, it was pitiful. But Kami felt too sick to her stomach to argue further.

Ma'Sala resumed control. "My kin-niece Isher is a doctor, she brought her kit with her and has been patching up the cubs' scraped knees and kinked tails all week; I'm sure she can repair those scratches before you're ready for the wedding vivids. And then my husbands can take you to the kitchens to sample some of the exquisite dishes being prepared for the wedding feast - as you can tell from their bellies, they have extensive experience in this field."

"Yes, indeed," Mi'Tree agreed, all charm as he and Bneea led Jnill and the cubs out. "Along the way, I shall regale you with the story of how I performed for the Dolhman of Elas, a most formidable and beautiful woman, much like yourself..."

Kami had started to follow - until her mother grabbed her by the elbow. "No. You stay." When the door closed, she faced her daughter. "It's bad form to try and kill the bride's mother, at least before the wedding."

Kami swallowed, unable to look up at her mother, sounding and feeling thoroughly ashamed of her actions. "I know. Thank you for defending Esek."

Ma'Sala grunted. "I could do nothing else. But I have to confess, if it had been me hearing that-"

Kami spun angrily, snarling, "Don't finish that sentence!"

Her mother remained unintimidated. "You should have warned us about the R'Nesikith. If one of Jnill's arse-sniffing clan members had learned it from the Clan Registry, we could have been accused of hiding it from them."

"It doesn't matter. It's a medieval punishment."

"In case you hadn't noticed, your son is marrying into a clan that can trace their ancestry directly back to the First Landing, and act like they're still living in the days of Hroarash; at least Ptera seems worthwhile. But we don't wish to make it more difficult for my grandcub." After a pause, she asked, "When did you kill?"

Kami stiffened. It was the last thing she wanted to discuss now - especially with Esek in a jail on the other side of their planet. "I didn't."

"Liar. Remember who you got your keen powers of perception from. I watched you as you declared it to Jnill, and it wasn't a bluff or bravado. It was the truth. But you said nothing about it to me or your fathers. So, I'll ask again... when did you kill?"

"It-" She started to deny, to divert, all the tricks her patients used to avoid facing the truth. She even told herself that she had dealt with the trauma of it after it happened, that it didn't matter anymore... which was simply more deception. "A month ago."

"And who did you kill?"

"A Ferasan."

Ma'Sala's face tightened, and her hackles raised, her feelings on their people's racial cousins - and ancient adversaries - quite clear. "When did you ever run into a Ferasan?"

"They ran into us. They approached the Surefoot because one of their high-ranking males wanted to make a name for himself by fighting Esek to the death. He refused, so they abducted Sasha and me and threatened us with rape and death if he didn't comply."

Her mother scowled now. "And did your husband finally bother to do his duty and fight?"

The ire struck Kami - and she bounced it right back. "Yes, in that he castrated his opponent and left him eternally dishonoured, before going off and leaving over a dozen others dead or broken in his efforts to save us! Is that duty enough for you?"

Her mother reacted to that, and Kami forced her breathing to slow down as she continued. "In the meantime, Sasha and I managed to escape, but some guards caught up with us. One guard broke Sasha's arm. She screamed with such agony. And I... I saw red. I ripped into the throat of the guard holding me. Tore it open. I tasted blood... flesh... I- I-"

Ma'Sala took her daughter in her arms, holding her tightly. "The Great Mother is seen as gentle, merciful, loving; it is often forgotten those moments when her fury over her cubs being threatened or hurt can make her so formidable..." She stroked Kami's mane. "You knew it was the right thing to do... and you hope you never have to do it again. But next time, you tell your mother about such things. She understands, and she will never judge you."