Surefoot 12: Caitian Holiday

Kami nodded against her mother's shoulder, letting her tears flow freely. But finally she pulled back and wiped her muzzle. "I- I have to go get Esek-"

"No." Ma'Sala strode to the desk and sat down, flicking her short, thick tail behind her. "Computer: Open Emergency Channel to Governor Renthri Lessade."

As the desk screen came to life, Kami approached. "Who?"

"Governor of the Northern Circle, including the Archipelago. Met him two years ago at a security conference. He had the most impressive erection when he met me, and he clung to me like a cub on the teat throughout the conference, hoping to rut. Honestly, it was a wonder he could walk with all the blood diverted to his- Governor!"

The screen filled with the image of a confused-looking middle-aged male with auburn fur and old-fashioned spectacles resting on his snout. "Fleet Captain Shall! What a surprise! A pleasant one, of course, but-"

"Forgive me, Governor, I won't be long. There is a Starfleet Captain, Esek Hrelle, have you heard of him?"

"Hmm? Yes, I believe so, why?"

"It seems he's been arrested on R'Trerah on some idiotic local charge - you know what they're like on the Archipelago."

"All too well, Fleet Captain."

"I need the charges dropped immediately, he's on special assignment and is needed here."

The Governor frowned. "Released? Fleet Captain, that would be highly irregular, interfering with the local constabulary-"

"Governor," Ma'Sala interrupted. "Let's not tail dance here. I want that man released immediately, given an escort and priority clearance at the nearest transporter station. A Code 1001 has been declared that requires his participation." She drew in closer to the screen. "Now, do I need to contact the First Minister and explain to her that my response to a Code 1001 has been delayed because of this?"

The Governor drew back, as if Ma'Sala was ready to reach through and grab him. "I'll tend to it immediately."

"Thank you. And Governor? It's good to see you again. Shall out." As the screen went black, she grunted, "Better to see him than smell him. He had the musk of a curried fish left too long in the sun."

"Thank you, Mama," Kami said, hugging the female from behind. "But won't you get into trouble for misusing a Code 1001?"

"I might - if it existed."

Kami smiled. "I'd best get going, and meet him at our station. Mama... can you promise to be nice to Esek, Mama? I know he's not Rmorra. He can never be. He's not meant to be."

Ma'Sala nodded. "You should go."

Kami smiled. "I'm waiting for that promise."

Her mother growled, but then relented with, "I promise to judge your husband on his own actions, and not compare him with Rmorra. There, happy?"

"I will be, when I see you two hug."

Ma'Sala grunted. But just before Kami departed, she asked, "Did he really do what you said he did to those Ferasans?"

Kami stood at the open doorway. "Yes. And he killed some Nausicaans who had taken Malurian children as slaves and had threatened the lives of our cadets, and he nearly died saving a baby from a disintegrating space station, and..." She breathed out heavily. "Each time he does something insane like that, I warn him. I warn him that if he keeps it up, I'll leave him. And each time, I never follow through with my threat. Some wife I am."

Ma'Sala looked up at her with regard. "Go collect your husband..."

*

Hrelle exited into the far more welcome weather of Kami's province, finding his wife waiting for him. "Sweetheart! I'm so sorry!" She clasped him close to her. "I should have come with you!"

He chuckled. "Then we would have both ended up in jail, and Papa Mi'Tree would have had to recreate his famous escape scene from Clawback 2: Maximum Sentence."

She drew back to look at him suspiciously. "Are you okay, Esek?"

He nodded back, smiling. "I'm fine. Actually, the younger constables turned out to be sympathetic once they heard the full story - and once they found out who I was. I, ah, even took some images with them."

"Your father-"

He shrugged now. "It's over and done with. The past has passed." He slipped an arm around hers as they walked back to the clan's autocar. "Now tell me, what's happened to the family during my time in prison? Have the cubs grown up? Are you a grandmother yet? Has Sasha married C'Rash?"

He kept his spirits up as they returned to the house, and he helped with the cooking of the evening meal and the cleaning up, with greeting the visitors from Ptera's clan, who seemed friendly (except for their Matriarch, who seemed to share Ma'Sala's attitude towards him). He regaled people with tales of the Surefoot and the Furyk. And he drank, and laughed, and danced, and drank as he sang some old bawdy Caitian ballads that made the younger cubs giggle.

Most everyone there wouldn't have thought there was anything wrong.

*

Around midnight he stepped out for some air, and a half-full bottle of Aldebaran whiskey, taking it to the main garden behind the house to have a couple of shots without his wife seeing and worrying about him unnecessarily. He was fine. He just wanted to relax.

He looked around at the furniture stacked here and there for the ceremony tomorrow; the air was cool and dry, the rough, dry grass felt good under his bare feet, and the star-studded sky was filled with the constant clacking of the chitterwings, their noise occasionally broken when a swoop would dive to make a snack of one or more of them-

"Naughty cub."

He nearly dropped the bottle as he spun in place, facing Ma'Sala. How in the Seven Hells did she sneak up on him like that? Was she that stealthy, or was he just that drunk? "Shit-"

The Matriarch strode up, clad in a simple brown linen dress that she somehow managed to wear like it was the gown of the First Female. "Never drink alone. People always know, and they talk." She took the bottle from him - and swigged some for herself.

He cleared his throat, feeling guilty and uneasy in her presence. "I, ah, didn't get to thank you earlier for arranging for my release."

She stared at him blankly, holding onto the bottle. "Well... do it, then."

He blinked. "Thank you."

She grunted at that. "My daughter has enough on her mind now with the wedding. She doesn't need the distraction of her husband's incarceration - or his mewling self-pity."

He frowned. "I'm not feeling self-pity. I'm fine."

"Really? You're fine with your father rejecting you? Having you arrested? You're either delusional or a liar. Which one is it?"

He blanched at her brusqueness, but offered an insouciant shrug. "I tried to mend things between us. He refused. His loss."

"It is. That doesn't make it hurt any less, cub."

She was getting on his nerves now. "I'm not a cub. I'm fifty-two years old, a Starfleet-"

He never saw the arm swing out, the hand smack the side of his head and send him hurtling into a stack of chairs, catching his tail and making him yelp. His head rang in pain made worse by the alcohol, but he helped himself back to his unsteady feet, staring in utter astonishment. "Are you out of your mind?"

She set the bottle down on an adjacent wall and approached. "Yes, you're a cub. We're all cubs when we deal with our parents, no matter our ages. And you're hurting. That's understandable. You just haven't got the balls to admit it. Yet."

"Yes, I'm hurting! You just smacked me upside my head!"

She chuckled. "That's nothing for a practitioner of K'Gresirr." Then her eyes went wide with seeming admiration. "Sasha says you're a Tier Five. Is that really true?"

He straightened up, nodding and catching his breath. "Y-Yes, though I-"

Ma'Sala's leg kicked out at his belly, sending him backwards onto the rough, dry grass. She cracked her knuckles. "Big deal. I'm Tier Seven, you little bitch. Come on, get up, we're not done yet."

He fought to control his breathing - and the urge to throw up - as he returned to his feet, his shirt and shorts hanging in tatters on him. He had to get back inside and tell Kami, Mi'Tree and the others, the old female had gone crazy. "I'm- I'm not fighting you..."

"Well, that'll make this easier." She pulled her dress up over her head and cast it aside, stretching her limbs in obvious preparation for a bout; even her tail was twitching with anticipation.

In the light from the house's, he could see the scars on her body, a reminder of what he once looked like, after his escape from the Bel-Zon. Did she really think that they were going to scrap? "Ma'Sala, please, I know you don't like me, we don't have to go through this-"

"You don't know a damn thing about me. But you're gonna learn." She extended her claws and bared her teeth. "Come on, fucker, show me what you got! Or did the Bel-Zon neuter you when they had you?"

Hrelle glared - and then pulled the remains of his clothes from him, discarding them as he extended his own claws.

Ma'Sala smirked as she glanced down. "No, I can see that they didn't. My husbands said you were gifted. Well, that's not gonna help you now."

Hrelle shook his head. She was really going to put him through this, wasn't she? "Fine. You wanna fight, let's-OOF!"

Mother's Cubs, she was his father's age, but she moved as fast as a shark! She torpedoed into him, the pair of them tumbling over each other onto the grass, growling, snapping, striking - and she was Old School K'Gresirr too, no distant ceremonial kicks and swipes. She was an in-your-face, no-holds-barred, dirty bitch fighter.

So he punched her hard in the chest and reached for her tail - only to be caught himself she drove her knee up into his groin. A white bolt of pain erupted from his balls and shot into his brain, giving Ma'Sala an advantage, pinning him face down onto the grass, her weight on his lower back, his arm twisted behind him - and her mouth open, her fangs clamped onto his neck.

He instinctively froze.

She tightened her jaw's grip on him.

He knew what she expected. He made a mewling sound of surrender.

The Matriarch released her jaw, but she still held him down, even as she was struggling with her own breathing. "That was- that was good, cub- better- better than the- the last sex I had." Her breathing slowed down more as she leaned in, her breasts against his shoulders, her mouth at his ear as if she were going to have his neck again. "You're a coward. A liar and a coward. You never saw your father."

Hrelle ached all over, felt sick on many levels, but he still fought against her. "I did- I did see him- you bitch-"

"Don't hump me and call it dancing, cub. He rejected you! Again! And you're telling me that didn't hurt?"

"I don't care about him! I hate his guts!"

"Liar. You love him. Even after all he'd done to you-"

He shook his head in denial. "No! I hate him! I hate him!"

"Liar."

"I LOVE HIM!"

He was shaking with grief as much as pain and humiliation beneath her.

Distantly he felt her release her hold on him and take her weight off, collapsing to the grass beside him. "Go on. Continue."

"I love him," he repeated softly, fragilely, hanging his head low to hide his face from her, to hide the tears that dropped straight from his eyes to to the dirt between the blades of grass. "I love him still. Even after all those years apart. And I tried- I tried to reach out- after all I'd been through, all I'd seen and done - and he still rejected me."

He looked up now, and saw her expression - and the similarity of it to her daughter, whenever she made him break through his self-denials and confront his own feelings, was uncanny. Did she just get him to open up the way Kami did? Like daughter, like mother... only with less brawling. Usually. "W-Why would he do that? I- I needed him. Why would he do that? It- It's not fair-"

"No. It's not." Beside him, Ma'Sala was helping herself back to her feet, before doing the same for Hrelle. Then she grabbed him by the shoulders and demanded, "Why did you take your current assignment? A supply ship? You had a frigate. What happened? Did you lose your nerve, after all you've been through?"

He stared in utter astonishment. Attacking him physically, and now taunting him with his past? "What is wrong with you?"

She glared defiantly. "Answer me."

He gathered his anger, his pain, his heartache, and bared his teeth as he snarled, "You really want to know why? Have you not have enough fun with me? Fine. I took it because it was only mission that Starfleet Academy would allow Sasha to serve on while she was still a cadet!"

"What?" That visibly took Ma'Sala by surprise.

"Yes!" He let the tears continue unchecked now. "I love that girl! Her, and her mother! The memory of them was the only thing keeping me going through all those years in the Seven Hells! And I swore if I got out alive, I would make up for all that time lost with them! But Hannah's dead, and Sasha's all grown up, she doesn't need me anymore, and- and-" He shook now. "Go on, you bitch, make fun of me some more for feeling this way! I fucking dare you!"

Ma'Sala stared at him, drew in... and hugged him tightly. Her voice was soft, gentle... maternal. The very last thing he expected. "I will do no such thing. You are a good man, a good father, a good husband. And your father was a fool, for refusing to see past his bitterness and embrace you. Just as I was foolish, for refusing to see past my suspicion and embrace you. Please... forgive me."

He didn't know how to react, except to continue to wallow in the need to hold onto this female. He never realised how much he might need a mother's touch, even at his age. He wanted to hold onto her forever.

But he knew that was impossible, especially as her heard the sounds of people leaving the house to step outside, obviously curious about the noises of the fight. But he waited to part from the embrace when he heard Kami exclaim loudly, "What in the Seven Hells is going on?"

He waved a hand at her. "Hush, you'll wake the cubs upstairs. Everything is fine."

"Fine?" Kami nearly shrieked, "Are you fucking kidding me? I come out here and find my mother and my husband naked, covered in bites and claw marks, and you expect me to think everything is fine? I don't fucking think so! Mother's Cubs!"

Hrelle looked to Ma'Sala, still clinging onto him, the pair of them supporting each other. "I love your daughter... but she can be a shrill bitch at times."

Ma'Sala nodded, smiling. "She was an angel until she had her first Season. Puberty ruins us."

Kami stared hard in reaction to the exchange, seemingly only discerning the change in mood between the two of them. "What's going on?"

"I can tell you." Jnill replied, standing surrounded by the members of her clan who had come tonight - though she remained noticeably distant from Kami - as she indicated Hrelle. "It's a drunken brawl, no doubt instigated by this R'Trerahn Clan Traitor."

A rumble ran through the Shall Clan, Mi'Tree stepping forward, pointing to Hrelle. "Do you even know who this male is? What he has done for the Federation? What he means to so many of us?"

"Oh, I'm certain he's most popular among the plebeian classes-"

"THIS IS MY SON," Ma'Sala declared loudly, proudly.

And when she had captured their attention, she continued. "He is my Bond-son through marriage to my daughter. But before this night is over, I will update the Clan Registry to make him my Kin-son. It will be as if I bore him myself. And he will no longer be classed as R'Nesikith." She looked to him again. "If you would accept."

He stood in wonder at the turn of events. It had been satisfying - if very painful - to have somehow finally made peace with Ma'Sala. To have her offer this... to be part of a clan again... he glanced at Kami, took in her shocked, approving face, before replying, feeling shocked himself, "The honour is mine."

Ma'Sala looked to her counterpart with the other clan. "Well? Will that be enough to extinguish your social outrage?"

Jnill drew up her reserves of smugness - only for her daughter Ptera to step forward and declare, "It does for me, Ma'Sala. We will be honoured to have your Kin-son in attendance at my wedding."

Her mother scowled at her, but recovered and added, "Yes."

The Shall clan assembled cheered at the response, before Ma'Sala looked to her husbands. "And would either or both of you old cats care to be declared his Kin-fathers, or are you too busy licking each other's balls?"

The males looked to each other, Mi'Tree responding with a dramatic, "By the Great Mother and Her Cubs, to be named Kin-Father to such a distinguished and-"

"He means Yes," Bneea interrupted.

"You scene-stealing swine!" his husband bellowed.

Kami rushed up to her mother and husband, hugging them both tightly, ignoring their pained reactions until she pulled back and asked, "What did you two do to each other?"

"We talked," Hrelle offered. "Nothing more."

"He punched me in the tits," Ma'Sala confessed.

He shrugged. "She started it."

Kami rolled her eyes. "Let's just get you two overgrown cubs inside and get patched up. Honestly..."

But she was smiling as she led the way.

*

Kami was cleaning a naked Mirow and grooming his fur, as was tradition on the morning of a wedding. "Now, Esek and I have arranged for a portion of our pay to go to the clan account for you and Ptera-"

"Mom," the cub chuckled, "I work for a living, you don't have to- oww!"

She was tugging at his tail fur. "You should have trimmed back here. I'll get the cutters."

"Mom!"

"I'd say stop fussing over him, but that would be futile."

Mother and son looked up at Hrelle standing in the doorway, arms folded, already clad in his best kilt and vest. Kami frowned. "What are you doing here, Esek?"

"Reminding you that your sister is waiting to cut your mane, giving you plenty of time to hate what she does with it."

"I'm dealing with my cub."

"Let me," Hrelle suggested.

Kami looked at him for a moment, before turning to Mirow. "Is that okay?"

The cub smiled. "That'll be fine."

As Kami departed, Hrelle approached the younger male, looking through the grooming tools and selecting some trimmers. "I never had my father to groom me when I married. Either time. I was probably a scruffy bastard. Fortunately, love blinds - but only to a degree. Remember that."

Mirow smiled. "I'll keep that in mind."

The cub stood there as Hrelle stood or knelt, moving around him, looking him over and trimming where required, letting the soft hum of the trimmer fill the air, like an insect buzzing from flower to flower. "Usually at these times, it's customary for the married one to offer advice to the groom. But I know that I'm just your mother's husband, I don't want you to think I'm trying to take your father's place-"

"I would love to hear something," Mirow confessed with relief. "Something practical, and distracting. I am a bundle of nerves right now."

Hrelle gently grabbed his tail, which was swishing about hitting him where he knelt. "So I see." He smiled as he considered what to say, secretly pleased that the cub wanted to hear from him, and sounded genuine about it. "Remember that every decision you make from here on isn't just about yourself, it's about both of you. Everything, from what you want for dinner, to what you want to do with the rest of your life, now involvs two people. After I fled Cait and joined Starfleet, I thought only of myself, for years. Then I had to expand my viewpoint. It took a while to get used to that - and to accept that I wasn't always going to get my way."

He rose to his feet, carefully snipping along the cub's biceps and chest. "Remember the trivial things - or rather, what seem trivial. Does she hate having her neck touched? Does she like her shuris kebabs with Eastern or Western blood sauce? Is that impractical red dress in her wardrobe her favourite? Does she cry every time she hears one of Tchama's love songs on your player? Remember them, and show her in some way that you remember them."