Surefoot 34: Mother's Cub

USS Surefoot-A, Deck 2 Fore -- Bridge, 0750 Hours:

Lieutenant C'Rash Shall had been perusing Starfleet Security updates on the current situation with the Klingons, prior to the start of the Morning Shift, when she heard the cup smash from behind the door leading to the Captain's Ready Room. She smirked to herself; Uncle Esek's fingers must have been greasy from Second Breakfast again. It was a damn good thing she loved him so much-

The second sound she heard made her ears twitch.

It could have been a chair being knocked over, a PADD dropped on the desk- no, it was too heavy, like-

Like her Papa.

One morning, when she was nine, C'Rash had been in her bedroom when she had heard something eerily, terribly identical to what she had just heard now. It had come from her parents' bedroom next to hers, and at first she had dismissed it as their rutting again -- they were always noisy when Mama was in Season -- until she remembered that Mama was out of the house. She called for Papa, and when he didn't answer, she ventured to their room...

And found Papa on the floor, having a heart attack.

The present C'Rash pushed down those memories, though they continued to nip at her mind's tail as she opened a channel. "Lt Shall to Captain Hrelle: may I have a word with you please, Sir?"

No answer.

"Captain?"

As the silence continued, and other people on the Bridge looked up curiously, she straightened up, forcing her tail to stop twitching as she made her way into the Ready Room, protocol be damned-

Seven Hells...

She raced up to Captain Hrelle's fallen body behind his desk, finding no pulse at his neck, and did a quick, cursory check on the temporary First Officer, Lieutenant Commander Olivia Zawati, finding her in an identical state as C'Rash smacked her combadge. "Computer: Medical Emergency! Lock onto all combadges in this room and beam directly to Sickbay!"

Almost too late, she saw that Hrelle's combadge was not on his jacket, but in -- what? Zawati's hand? -- and swiftly the Caitian reached out and replaced it on his body as the transporter beams engulfed them. Her pulse reached Warp Ten as she looked down on Hrelle... another Captain, another father figure she could lose... if it wasn't already too late.

Great Mother, help him... please...

*

In another place, the Great Mother reclined beneath a tarraba tree on an endless savannah, stopped nursing an infant cub to tuck her breast away beneath her blue silken robes and rest the sated cub down on one of her shoulders, carefully supporting him with one hand while rubbing his furry back with two extended fingers. "Hello, Esek. How are you?"

Standing before her, glancing around in confusion, Hrelle gasped. Where was he? One moment, he was- he was- he couldn't quite remember... he felt like he had just stirred from a deep, dreamless sleep. Numbly he glanced down at his trembling hands. "Where am I?"

In the female's arms, the infant burped, making her smile and cuddle him. "There you go! Good cub!"

He focused on her. "Hey! Where am I?"

She stretched her neck and looked around, as if seeing the terrain for the first time. "It looks like the Motherlands, the world that sprung from the Waters of Life. The same waters I sprang from, to walk these lands and bring forth our race-"

"That's a crock of shit!"

She shrugged. "I call them as I see them, Esek."

"This is not the Motherlands! And you're not the Great Mother! The Great Mother is a myth, a personification of our ideals, and her adventures a collection of stories we tell to impart lessons on Caitian virtues!"

She smiled serenely. "If you say so."

Hrelle bared his teeth. "What are you? A hologram? A Changeling or android, or some alien posing as a mythological figure -- there's a lot of those running around the Galaxy -- or are you something else entirely?"

"What do you want me to say, Esek? If I was trying to deceive you, I'd hardly give you a truthful answer. I certainly feel like the Great Mother."

"YOU'RE NOT HER!" he declared loudly.

She brought a shushing finger to her snout, indicating the now-sleeping infant.

"Sorry," he whispered.

She held out her hand to him. "Help me up, please."

He complied -- before catching himself, backing away from her. "Seven Hells, what am I doing?"

She shrugged again. "Practising some of those ideals the Great Mother is meant to personify, perhaps? Courtesy? Empathy? Decency?"

"But you're not real! None of this is real!"

She drew closer and regarded him, before holding out the infant. "Take him."

"What?" He looked down at the furry bundle.

"I asked you to take him."

He hesitated. Studying the tiny creature, which was obviously meant to represent her first male cub C'Mau, he hesitated, as if it might suddenly morph into some slavering beast and strike. But then he accepted the infant, resting him against one shoulder, cupping his huge hand around its naked rear, careful with the little curled tail. It began purring in its sleep, reminding him so much of Misha at this age that his heart quickened and his own tail swished in the tanglegrass at his feet.

She watched the scene with a smile. Then she said, "Now: break his neck."

"What?"

"You heard me. Break his neck. If none of this is real, then you're not doing any real harm, are you? Break his neck. You can do it, Esek. You've done it before."

His stomach twisted. "No! Are you crazy? I'm not- I'm not going to do something like that!"

She smiled again at his response. "'We can do right or wrong not just to each of us, but to animals, to blades of grass, to the unliving and never-living, even to thoughts... because ultimately, the right or wrong we do is either an affirmation or a rejection of our integrity'." Her furred brow furrowed in concentration. "From the story of the Great Mother and the Sea Lizard, if I recall correctly." She made a show of rolling her neck and stretching out her arms, making sounds of relief. "That's much better. You can hold onto him all day if you like."

He grunted suspiciously as he watched her. "The Great Mother? Willing to give up one of her cubs?"

She eyed him mischievously. "You don't get to keep him, sport. A good parent's love is inexhaustible; their bodies aren't. My back aches, my tail is sore from getting grabbed when the cubs are on the Pounce, my nipples feel like they've been chewed to bits, I yawn throughout the day, and I still imagine smelling cub wee in my fur from when he's feeling squirty.

But it's all still worth it.

Now come on, we have to get going."

"Going? Where?"

"East."

"East? Why?"

She shrugged. "When I know, you'll know, I suspect. You can carry C'Mau a little longer."

Then she started away, towards the East, never looking back, fully expecting him to follow.

He did.

*

Doc Masterson cursed as he helped lift Hrelle's body onto the biobed, passing it off as a reaction to his Commanding Officer's bulk. "This dude's going on a diet when we bring him back, I swear it." He glanced up at the readings: poison, tetra-lubisol, enough to kill three humanoids- brain damage, respiratory failure- "Scarlo! Get the cortical stimulator! Eydiir, 40ccs synaptizine! Shyrik, y'all got Zawati covered-"

The Andorian doctor was at a nearby biobed with Zawati and her own nurses. "Of course I have, fool!"

Masterson grunted; that blue-hued spitfire was going sweet on him... Another alert from the biobed grabbed his attention. There was still residual brain activity despite the damage, but that was- Hell's Bells- "Synaptic degradation! Eydiir, ready the stabiliser unit, his body will need full life support until we can repair his brain!"

"What happened to them?" C'Rash asked from nearby. "Is it a disease, or-"

"Poison- tetra-lubisol, highly toxic-"

"An accident?"

"Not my job to work that out, girl, I'm busy trying to save him! Do you mind?"

"Sorry."

Masterson heard the shock, the fragility in her voice, and immediately regretted his tone, offering, "We'll do everything we can, Lieutenant, and keep you posted, I promise!"

"Thank you, Doctor."

Distantly he heard her leave, more focused was he on the task ahead. Bringing the Captain back from the dead was easy enough. Restoring him to his former state? That was another rodeo altogether.

***

C'Rash felt like she was going to throw up in the corridor outside of Sickbay, and she stopped and leaned against the wall, trying to control her breathing.

"C'Rash!"

She turned at the sound of Lieutenants Velkovsky and Neheru, and Chief Engineer Grev rushing up, the Tellarite non-com demanding, "What's happened? We heard the Captain and First Officer were attacked! Killed!"

She nodded blankly. "They're dead." But then, at their expressions, she added, "But Doc Masterson thinks he can revive them. I don't know about being attacked... but they were poisoned."

"Poisoned?" Neheru drew his lanky Kelpien frame up to its full, considerable height. "How?"

C'Rash shook his head. "I don't know!" But then she added, through bared teeth, "Not yet."

Velkovsky nodded sympathetically. "You need to let the crew know what's happened, the rumours are getting around at warp speed."

"Me?"

Neheru nodded sagely. "You are the current Duty Officer for the shift. Third in command."

It was true, she admitted, at least to herself. Not that it had ever mattered, Uncle Esek or T'Varik were always around to deal with command things. She shook her hand. "N-No... I can't do it." She looked to Grev. "Chief, you have years more experience than me-"

But he held up his hoof. "No, Lieutenant. Command is yours. If you give it up now, you'll always be second-guessing yourself."

She looked to each of them in turn, silently begging for one of them to take pity on her.

No. No such luck.

She swallowed. Grev was right; Uncle Esek was counting on her to step up and take over.

Straightening up, she tapped her combadge. "Attention, all hands: this is Lieutenant Shall. There has been an incident involving Captain Hrelle and Lieutenant Commander Zawati. Both are in Sickbay; that is all you need to know at this time, but your department heads will be kept updated as to their condition, as and when possible. I am declaring a Security Condition Three: all off-duty personnel are to remain in their quarters until further notice. Shall out."

The others looked to her, Grev opining, "You don't think this was an accident, do you?"

"Doc Masterson says it was tetra-lubisol."

The Tellarite harrumphed. "That's kept locked up in secure storage facilities! How can- how can-"

But she held up a hand. "Say nothing to anyone, but I want every millilitre of that stuff on this ship accounted for, and a full diagnostic of all replicators; they had been fine, before Zawati brought in some coffee for their intershift meeting. I have to contact Admiral Tattok on the Triton and inform him of the situation. And Aunt Kami and Commander T'Varik; they're still two hours away, but they might get their transport to hurry up." Her countenance sullen, anxious, she glanced at her colleagues. "Last chance to take over. Anyone?"

Still no luck. Damn.

*

The cub in Hrelle's arms had grown, instantly, becoming a toddler Misha's age and size, smacking Hrelle on the shoulder and demanding, "Down! Down!"

Instinctively Hrelle looked to his walking companion, who smiled and nodded. "Let him and his sister burn off some energy, or they'll be up all night counting the stars and wanting stories."

Hrelle stopped and started to lower the naked cub down, but C'Mau leapt out of his arms and raced up to another cub, a mahogany-furred female -- his sister R'Tashar, Hrelle recognised -- the pair of them chasing each other in wide, concentric circles in and out of the tanglegrass, as their mother called after them, "Watch out for the Unspeakable One! That devil will try and snare tasty young cubs like you!"

He watched them depart from view, before looking to the Great Mother again. "How can you let them go off alone?"

"How can I not, Esek?"

"Because of the dangers out there! I know your stories! The Unspeakable One! The Shadow Snakes! The Bluewing King-"

"The Dominion, the Klingons, the Romulans, the Vlathi, the Orions," she finished, looking at him. "Your world is full of similar dangers. How can you let Sasha step out there unsupervised? How will you let Misha go out alone when he's old enough to scamper off without remaining in noseshot? Part of being a good parent is forcing down that dread at their safety, and trusting that the Universe will unfold as it's meant to."

She drew in closer and said in a more-confidential tone. "The dread will never go away, by the way. Not for your cubs, or their cubs, any more than you will ever stop being a parent. That's part of the price. When you are a grey-furred old cat sitting on your porch back on Cait hearing about your grandcubs and great-grandcubs flying off to fight the Terrible Whatsits in the Ford Galaxy or wherever, you will still worry."

He stared hard at her. "Enough of this. Who are you? Really?"

She smiled warmly, making his anger and confusion melt away, at least momentarily. "I was in your mother's eyes when you were born, looking down at you, feeling the purest love she would ever know.

I made your heart skip when you heard Sasha wake up in the middle of the night crying from a bad dream, and you went to comfort her.

I was in the pride you felt when Misha spoke his first words, and in the terror when he was injured by the Vlathi.

I was the strength in your arms when you protected Sasha on that freighter when she nearly died from that Nekrosi mine.

And yes, I was in your blood when you killed those men on Skaros who sought to enslave and hurt those kidnapped children.

I am in everyone with a desire to nurture, to protect and instruct and support those who need it, young or old. I am in men as well as women, in parents and grandparents of cubs who are theirs by blood or by choice. I am in those parents who have outlived their cubs, and those who will never have cubs of their own, but would if they could; they are all as much parents in my eyes as you are.

I am the Great Mother, first of all our people.

I am what you have made me, Esek. Here... in your own head."

He blinked. "My... head?"

She nodded, looking up at the sky. "Stop talking, and start listening: always good advice in most situations."

Hrelle paused, held his breath and lifted his head. There were the birds, the wind whistling through the stark branches of the tarraba-

No, wait. A voice! Voices! Orders- medical- "Doc Masterson! I know that cowboy drawl anywhere!" He glanced around. "Where is he?"

"What do you last remember, Esek?"

He stared at her. It was a trick. It had to be.

But as his memory seemed to begin knitting together, and flashes returned -- his Ready Room, coffee, a pain shooting through his body, his brain, a struggle to breathe -- a dread began suffusing him like the warmth from the hot white sun above. He... "Died."

"Pardon?"

He looked to her, mouth opening. "I... died. My First Officer poisoned my coffee. I'm... dead. Is that right?"

"Well, Mostly Dead. See, Mostly Dead is still Slightly Alive."

"I'm in my head? In some dream or hallucination or something? And I've made you and all this up?" He regarded her in a new light. "Why?"

And she laughed. "Typical cub, wanting all the answers to the universe spelled out for you."

He shook his head and looked around, as if he could suddenly find a door back to the surface of his consciousness. He was in some sort of comatose state, and his mind has fashioned all of this -- and the Great Mother -- from his own memories and perceptions. That certainly made more sense than the other things he had considered.

But now... "How do I get out of here?"

She nodded past his shoulder. "Keep going East. And stop asking me questions. I don't know everything!"

He turned, and looked towards the hill. "Why that way?"

She smacked his rear gently. "That was a question! Come on, you could lose some of that waistline..."

*

As she relayed the news about Hrelle and Zawati, C'Rash watched Admiral Tattok's stoic reaction on the screen. She knew it wasn't something endemic to the Roylan race -- she had worked with Tattok's son, Captain Weynik of the Starsong, on a number of occasions, and he proved quite effusive -- so she just assumed that Tattok would play a wicked game of poker.

Finally he asked, "Have you sealed off the crime scene?"

She frowned slightly; she had reported no problems with the replicators... but disturbingly, the logs confirmed Lt Cmdr Zawati did collect the replicated coffee that morning, and then made a stop in the Shuttlebay, where some tetra-lubisol was now unaccounted for. "Yes, Sir. I'll begin collecting more forensic evidence there-"

"No, Lieutenant. Given the growing instances of Dominion sabotage on Federation worlds and Starfleet vessels, we cannot discount their involvement in this. I have a liaison from Starfleet Security who has done periodic Changeling sweeps of the vessels in the Thirteenth Fleet, and she'll come over with her crew and do the same, before conducting a criminal investigation."

"Changelings?" That hadn't occurred to her, with the evidence building toward it being Zawati. "Sir, with respect, this seems more like a crime committed solely by the First Officer-"

Tattok nodded in acknowledgement. "Perhaps, but I'd rest easy knowing you've been swept, as we've all been. Is Commander T'Varik's transport imminent?"

"Yes, Sir, they've arranged to speed up their ETA to thirty minutes."

"Good. You'll remain in command until T'Varik returns, but I expect you to give Captain Sakuth your full-"

"Sakuth?" C'Rash hissed, her hackles rising. It couldn't be. The Universe wouldn't be so cruel-

"You know her?"

She breathed in. "Vulcan, middle-aged, bronze eyes?" Cold, nasty, murderous little bitch, she added to herself, as Tattok nodded with confirmation. The woman had been from Starfleet Intelligence, not Security though naturally the branches worked closely together. Months ago, the Surefoot had been involved in keeping a top-secret experimental Starfleet weapon from Ferengi hands, a weapon protected by Sakuth, who had been so driven to protect its secrets that she had attempted to blow up the ship and everyone on it -- until C'Rash literally crushed her windpipe with her jaw.

That Sakuth had once been T'Varik's lover had no bearing on how C'Rash reacted to her.

Well, hardly any. "I know her, Sir."

"Well," Tattok continued, "The familiarity should make things easier... or not, given how agitated you appear now. Anything you want to tell me, Lieutenant?"

"Much," she admitted, "Unfortunately everyone involved in her last visit to the Surefoot are bound by security nondisclosures."

"Hmph. I don't like secrets -- unless I'm the one collecting them. Still, whatever bad blood might be between you two, I expect both of you to behave professionally. Is that clear?"

"Of course, Sir." As the screen went to black, she grunted, wondering if he would say the same thing if he knew that his infant granddaughter Naida had been one of those onboard the Surefoot that Sakuth was willing to kill to protect her precious secrets.

Then C'Rash smirked to herself. If the rumours about the Gnome were true, then if Tattok did find out, Sakuth would probably wish she hadn't recovered from C'Rash's bite.