Surefoot 30: Class of 2372

"But I'm only twenty-one-"

"There is an ancient Terran saying: 'It is not the years, it is the mileage'. You should not diminish your abilities because of your age, any more than you should because of your family connections. I can assure you that you have earned what you have today."

Sasha stepped forward, nodding. "Thank you, T'Varik. You'll be returning to the Surefoot in September with a new batch of cadets?"

The Vulcan nodded. "They will need to make a considerable effort to compare with the first group."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Sasha laughed, before asking, "Please watch out for my family."

She held out a hand. "It will be my honour, Lieutenant."

Sasha accepted it.

*

The Commander and the new junior officer found the rest of her family and friends in the clearing near where Boothby's flowers had been, before the storm. "I've been looking round but I can't find Dad, or C'Rash, or Eydiir either."

Kami was lifting up Misha, sniffing and asking, "No poop?" When the toddler shook his head, she set him down again and asked, "Have you tried their combadges?"

"Yes, and none of them are responding. And when I contacted the ship, Neheru was acting all cagey."

"Maybe they're having an orgy and didn't want to invite us?" Neraxis suggested.

Jonas winced. "That puts far too many wrong images in my head."

"You're welcome."

"More than likely," T'Varik offered calmly, "It is a security briefing following today's incident."

"It is intolerable!" Mi'Tree declared, booming. "My kin-son and grandniece should be here for my darling Tailless Grandcub! She is the Hero of the Hour! She saved hundreds of lives today! She's brilliant and brave and-"

Sasha drew up to him and brought a silencing finger to his snout. "You don't have to keep kissing my ass, Grandpa. I've forgiven you already."

Ma'Sala crossed her arms. "Don't be too quick to forgive, cub, you might guilt him into an extra special present for your next birthday."

"This will be most exciting," Kit announced, clapping his webbed hands. "To have one more evening with Alpha Squad and the officers of the Surefoot!" But then he deflated. "Exciting... and sad. From tomorrow Sasha will be leaving for Vulcan, and on Friday Jonas will attend the Engineering Seminars in Senegal, Neraxis-"

"Wait, wait, wait," Jonas interrupted. "Kit, why are you just saying our names? What happened to 'Best Friend Sasha' and 'Best Friend Jonas' and all that?"

The Qarari breathed in as he looked around. "I have decided to endeavour to save these titles of protocol for more private occasions. Otherwise I will be footloose and fancy free."

"Good to hear," Rrori commented, cracking the knuckles in his furred fingers. "And with my Matriarch and mother having an early night, I intend to celebrate our long-overdue departure from this facility by getting absolutely shitfaced tonight."

Misha gasped and strode up to the other Caitian male, pointing a finger at him and announcing, "Bad word! Trouble Time, Mister!"

The former cadets laughed, Kami adding, "You heard Captain Misha there, Meow."

Sasha grinned. "Better say you're sorry, sport."

"What? I will not! You indulge the cub too much!"

"Are you saying my cub is spoiled, Ensign Rrori?" Kami teased.

"Do I have to contact your Matriarch, cub?" Ma'Sala growled, albeit humorously.

Rrori looked to T'Varik pleadingly. "Commander, be the voice of reason here!"

But the Vulcan eyed her godson and noted, "He is in uniform, and has Captain's pips..."

The white-furred Caitian male started to protest further, before finally giving up, looking at Misha and admitting, "I'm sorry, Captain. Okay?"

Misha looked up, frowning -- and then grinned and announced, "Good cub!"

Then all eyes turned to the arrival of Hrelle, C'Rash and Eydiir, everyone noting the expressions on their faces, Kami asking, "Esek, what's happened?"

He stopped, regarding his wife and colleagues. "The Klingons have launched a major offensive across three sectors. They're attempted to retake a lot of the territory that they have historically lost or ceded to the Federation: Archanis, Troyus, Ceti Omega, Sherman's Planet. SI believes the incident here today might have been seen as a sign of weakness on our part. Starfleet sent a ship to Organia on the slim chance that they might have returned from... wherever they went years ago." He shook his head. "No sign of them."

The group went silent, until T'Varik surmised. "You have been recalled."

Hrelle nodded gravely. "Effectively immediately, we'll be providing support to the Fleet, tender and ambulance duties. Probably combat, too. We won't have cadets to supplement us, but we'll stopping at Starbase 154 along the way to take on experienced temporary officers and crew."

Kami swallowed. "I'll need to pack, get ready-"

"No. I know you planned to stay here for the next few weeks working with T'Varik on selecting the new cadets. When you're done, you can head back to Cait with Ma'Sala and Mi'Tree, and from there get a transport to rendezvous with us."

Kami drew in and embraced her husband tightly. Misha sensed the change in mood and approached. "Papa sad?"

Hrelle half-pulled back from his wife, just enough to bend down and sweep his son up in his free arm. "Yes, Papa sad. Papa has to go away for a while, so he'll miss you and Mama. So you take care of Mama for me until we're together again, okay?"

Misha nodded and wrapped his arms around his father's neck.

Eydiir dropped her shoulder bag and approached her friends. "I'm sorry this will spoil our plans to frolic and pointlessly indulge on Earth over the next couple of weeks, but I trust you will compensate in my absence." After a moment she swallowed and admitted, "It has been an honour and a pleasure to have lived and worked with all of you."

As she began hugging each of them in turn, C'Rash drew up to T'Varik, growling. "Damn, I was just getting into Season. What will I do for the next few months without you around?"

"Masturbate copiously, no doubt." Disregarding Vulcan protocol, she embraced her lover, the contact letting her slip into the Caitian's mind for a few seconds, offering more thought and feeling than she could express in public.

Hrelle parted from his family to move to Ma'Sala and Mi'Tree, hugging them and asking, "Keep an eye on them. Misha especially, he's not been separated from either of us for long before."

"We will, my kin-son," Mi'Tree assured him.

"Take care out there, my kin-son," Ma'Sala asked.

"I will." He walked over to T'Varik, managing a smile. "Commander, it has been an incredible, rewarding experience working with you. I'll be counting the days until we're working together again. But if you think you're getting away without a hug from me, you are very much mistaken."

She raised an eyebrow. "On the contrary, Sir; as I am technically and emotionally bonded to your family, I would consider a lack of an attempt on your part on this occasion to be insulting."

He laughed and drew in, holding her.

When they parted, she added breathlessly, "Do not expect this to be a regular indulgence, however."

"Understood." He turned to the former members of Alpha Squad, regarding each of them in turn. "I- I hadn't planned on having to say any of this now. I thought there'd be more time. You'd think at my age I'd know better, wouldn't you?" Tears welled in his eyes. "Maybe I grew close to all of you because you were in Sasha's squad, but I'd like to think you're all remarkable people in your own right that I would have done so anyway. We've been through too much together." He embraced each in turn. "I owe all of you, more than I can say. If you need anything, anything at all, let me know."

He stopped last at Sasha, who was crying as much as he was. He shook a finger at her. "You have to stop this, Runt of the Litter. Stop being so wonderful. Stop making me so proud of you. It hurts."

He wrapped her in his arms, taking in her scent one more time.

"I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, Sasha."

Somehow, he managed to release her, breathing in and returning to his wife and other cub, embracing them as well. Misha was mewling, until Hrelle took off his jacket, retrieving the combadge but wrapping the oversized garment like a blanket around the toddler. "Here, Warrior Prince, this has my scent on it; when you feel sad, you hold onto it, okay?" He rubbed the side of his muzzle against Misha's, and then Kami's, before steeling himself, pinning his badge to his grey undershirt and standing with C'Rash and Eydiir again, calling the Surefoot. "Three to beam up; warp out when we're onboard."

He spared a final glance at all those people who had touched his life in various ways, some he knew he would be seeing again soon, others... who knew? But he hoped it wouldn't be too long, or too late.

He fixed on Kami, Sasha and Misha as he disappeared...

*

Saddleworth Moors, England:

The wind rattled against the ancient panels on the isolated cottage, though the sole occupant, in bed, swaddled in sheets and blankets, had lived there long enough to sleep without noticing it any longer. Very little could stir him in fact-

"Ian?"

He stirred, pulling the bedclothes up over him.

"Wake up, Ian. We need to speak."

He opened his eyes to the darkness, hearing the female voice, and recognising it. He shifted, reaching under his pillow for-

"Your phaser is with me, Ian. You can switch on your light, though. Slowly."

Trenagen reached for the old-fashioned bedside lamp, its warm yellow glow reaching out but not fully illuminating his bedroom as he focused on the ash-furred Caitian female sitting in his chair, facing him, miniature phaser in hand. He forced himself to appear calm, though his heart was racing inside his silk pyjamas. "Good evening, Fleet Captain. This is unexpected."

"Yes. But then it seems you're used to unexpected visits. Though you're usually the one giving them, aren't you?"

He sat up, gauging how close his other concealed weapons were. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but feminine flesh of any race holds no appeal for me."

Ma'Sala set down the phaser on an adjacent table. "That's okay, Ian. To be honest, I'd sooner bend over and spread for a snaggletoothed Ferasan than you. As I'm sure you've guessed, I came to talk to you about Sasha."

Trenagen made a sound. "I'm rather disappointed. I did impress upon the girl the need for our conversation to remain a secret."

"She said nothing. Your scent was thick in her room the morning after your visit. And knowing you, I knew why you were there. We need to talk."

He glanced at his red silk dressing gown, where a subspace alert signal lined one of the pockets. Casually he twisted his legs out from under the bedclothes. "Of course, Fleet Captain. Let me make us some tea."

He reached for the dressing gown.

"Touch that and I'll eviscerate you."

He stopped, returning under the covers. "Perhaps another time then?"

"Perhaps." The Caitian flexed her fingers, letting her claws extend and retract as she regarded him. "You broke the Agreement, Ian. All of the Shadow Agencies of the Quadrant -- Section 31, the Mother's Claws, the Obsidian Order, the Tal Shiar, the V'Shar, the Gin'tak -- have survived when our many heads of state have come and gone, because we operate under certain rules... one of those rules being we do not recruit from each other's families. They're out of bounds." She leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "Why would you approach my grandcub, Ian?"

He smirked. "Looking to draw her in to your own organisation, Ma'Sala?"

She shook her head. "She has a decent, honourable future ahead of her."

"Hypocrisy ill becomes you, Madame. You speak of honour, but your fleet employs cloaking devices, subspace isolytic missiles... and then there's that particularly nasty weapon of yours on your flagship. What do you call it again? The Seven Hells? What would your granddaughter say if she knew about that?"

Ma'Sala rose. "I didn't come here to debate ethics. I came here to warn you: you try recruiting her into your pack of kussiks again, and I'll declare a Mother's War on you."

Trenagen tilted his head. "That has more than a hint of portent to it."

"It should."

"Mother's War, Mother's Claws, Mother's This, Mother's That... a societal psychiatrist could write a paper on Caitian maternal obsession."

Ma'Sala bared her teeth. "Ian... you really should take my threat more seriously."

He leaned back, smiling up at her. "Look at us, woman. These are not our salad days, and neither of us are long for this life. I will welcome Death when it comes for me."

She hissed -- and he started as, from shadows in the corners of his bedroom, black-furred Caitian females, clad in equally-black skintight outfits, emerged, eyes baring down on the man in the bed.

"You see, Ian," Ma'Sala continued. "The Mother's Claws isn't like Section 31. We're more than an agency. We're kin. Some matters are taken personally.

Very personally.

And if something should happen to me in the near future, and you feel tempted to try and recruit Sasha again... these females have your scent now.

And when they find you again... and they will... when Death finally comes for you...

It won't recognise you..."

*

Cait, some time later:

Sr'uuras stepped out onto the veranda, ready to call the cubs down from the shellfruit trees in the garden and remind them of the time -- only to see them leaping and tumbling over each other, laughing and chasing each other's tails as they raced up and to the back door, skidding to a halt as their father scolded, "Wash!"

The twins were climbing over each other to wash the dirt off their hands and feet, H'ish grabbing the towel first and ignoring his sister Rtala's protests to dry off as well, until Sr'uuras poked his head around the doorway. "It's about to start... unless you want to keep fighting in your rooms and not watch."

That always stopped the fighting.

As the six-year-olds rushed into the living room, Sr'uuras poked his head into his wife's office, smiling once more at the chaos that M'Ria seemed to thrive on in her job. "Come on. You need a break."

M'Ria was hunched over the large datascreen with the building schematics, but now uncoiled herself from her stool, stretching out her limbs and tail before looking over at him. "I'm stuck. Completely paralysed. Go on with the rest of your life, my husband. Best just leave me here to die..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He stepped in, swept her up and carried her into the living room. Their children were already lying on their bellies on their blankets and pillows on the floor, having turned on the vividscreen and waiting for the news program to finish, and eating bowls of tava pudding from the kitchen. He set his wife down on the couch and moved over to retrieve their wine, settling himself down on the plush cushions and letting M'Ria curl up against him, the adults frowning at the final notices on the Klingon assaults and Dominion and Ferasan threats.

Then the view changed, the familiar theme music rose, and the cubs' tails swish above them with excitement as The Taleteller's program logo appeared, and the cubs cheered.

The logo was then replaced by an old-fashioned domestic setting, where Mi'Tree entered and sat down, beaming. "Good evening, Cubs of All Ages! And how is everyone today? Have you done your homework, your chores? Have you been good today?"

On the floor, Rtala looked back at her parents for confirmation, Sr'uuras smiled and replied, as if the image on the screen could hear, "Yes, we all have!"

Rtala grinned and turned back to the screen, but then noticed she had finished her pudding. She looked to her brother. "Can I have some of yours?"

H'ish snorted. "No!"

Onscreen, Mi'Tree lifted up a book from an adjacent table and placed it on his lap, his eyes bright with wonder. "Tonight, I'll be reading from a most wonderful book I've discovered, by a Terran author named Roald Dahl, about a remarkable young female cub named Matilda!"

Then his expression sobered slightly. "But first, I'd like to talk to you about something important. I've been receiving many messages from cubs all over Cait and the colonies. Many of you have been watching and listening to the news lately, hearing stories about the fighting that has been going on out there. Many of you are afraid.

Oh, my wonderful cubs... I want to tell you all: it's okay to be afraid. Everyone gets afraid of things. Your brothers and sisters do. Your parents and grandparents do. We all do. And in the weeks and months to come, you may see and hear more things that might make you afraid.

But it's okay to be afraid... as long as you don't let your fear change who you are.

Don't let your fear make you angry.

Don't let your fear make you selfish.

Don't let your fear make you cold.

And perhaps most importantly... don't let your fear make you unkind.

The Great Mother gave us many gifts, many strengths: our love, our compassion, our mercy, our generosity. And our kindness.

Be kind to each other. To your brothers and sisters, to your parents and grandparents, to your cousins and friends, to your teachers and neighbours, to the strangers you meet in the street.

Every little act of kindness is like a light. A light that can fight the darkness. And with enough light, the darkness can be banished away."

On the floor, H'ish reached out and poured some of his remaining pudding into his sister's bowl.

Mi'Tree smiled, as if having seen the act. "And remember as well: we may have enemies out there in the Galaxy... but we also have protectors. Brave men and women of all races, who are prepared to protect us. Keep them in your thoughts, for we are in theirs."

He opened the book and settled back. "Now: are you sitting comfortably? Then let's begin..."

THE ADVENTURES OF THE SUREFOOT WILL CONTINUE...