Surefoot 39: Mothers' Talk

Nhlanha regarded her.

And believed her.

The Caitian held herself with an authority, a power and confidence that the Monarch Prime recognised in herself. Steeling herself, Nhlanha approached, crossing her arms as she demanded, "What do you want of me?"

Ma'Sala poured some of the contents of the bottle into an unused glass. "I think you suspect why already, given your reaction to my name and race. Your Ministers made requests to certain Federation data sources for information on Captain Esek Hrelle and his family. As he and his family are part of my clan, any such requests are flagged to my organisation."

"Your... Navy?"

Ma'Sala looked up. "I hold another, unofficial leadership position. It's unofficial name is the Mother's Claws."

"Oh?" Nhlanha tried to affect an air of insouciance, an air she didn't feel. "And what do these 'Mother's Claws' do?"

"We watch for threats to our people and our planet... and we deal with them. Once I was alerted to your request for information, and I learned of the incident involving the Surefoot and your children, I arranged to be beamed here from Cait so I can address the matter personally, rather than through one of my operatives." She pushed the filled glass with an extended claw on one finger towards the Monarch Prime.

Nhlanha ignored it. "'Beamed'? I have heard that term before. That is the matter teleportation device your Federation possesses; we have tried to purchase the rights to it, but have been refused. I was told its reach was limited from ship to planet, or ship to ship. Was that a lie?"

"No, not a lie, Your Grace... not strictly. Most transporters do possess a limited range. But there are a select few hidden, secure networks, employing restricted, risky technologies, that are available to a handful of us who need to travel across sectors of space in a hurry." She lifted up the bottle. "Do Nekrosi toast?"

"Toast?"

"A salutation with a drink, to honour or commemorate others."

"We do."

"Good." Ma'Sala stood up again, lifting the bottle up higher. "Then let's have a toast... to our children. The moment they are conceived, so are we. We might have existed before, but only as people, not as parents. And we can never go back to what we were... or would want to. With that conception comes a covenant between parent and child, a covenant not even Death can break."

Nhlanha stared, as if expecting some trick. And then she lifted up her own glass in salute, and drank quickly.

Ma'Sala set the bottle down, licking the sides of her muzzle with a long tongue. "Very tart, that. It would be more palatable chilled-"

"You said Hrelle and his family is part of your clan."

"I am Matriarch to my clan. Esek married my kin-daughter. I... was not enamoured of him, at first. I had a notion that he had become a coward, following his experiences in slavery. I learned better. And when I discovered that his own clan had disowned him for joining Starfleet, I amended our Clan Registry to make him my kin-son, as if I had birthed him myself. And in that time, my pride for him has only grown."

She produced a small black disc from a pocket in her uniform jacket, set it on the table and drew back her hand, producing a small but substantial hologram of Hrelle, alongside a female Caitian with lighter brown fur... and a tiny male cub climbing from one parent to another, laughing. "They have given me a most loving and wonderful grandcub... and another is on the way, a female-"

Nhlanha reached across and shoved the disc back in Ma'Sala's direction, the Caitian catching it and shutting off the images as the Monarch Prime declared, "You have wasted your time coming here, Fleet Captain."

Ma'Sala smiled, seemingly oblivious to the response. "I still remember the day I birthed Kami. She had been a stubborn little bitch from the start, always kicking and shifting inside me and giving me months of sleepless nights, and even when my waters broke, she refused to leave until she was good and ready. I cursed her for every shard of pain she gave me... and then she was at my breast, taking my scent and purring in contentment. And just like that, the pain... meant nothing..."

Nhlanha rested her hands on the table and leaned forward, black eyes fixed on the intruder. "No amount of cute holograms or cute stories will dissuade me from my course of action!"

Ma'Sala remained unintimidated. "Then perhaps I can compensate you instead?" The Caitian indicated the open balcony, where the stars twinkled in the indigo sky. "The Galaxy awaits the Commonwealth. You want the designs for that transporter the Federation denied you? Higher warp drives? Tri-cobalt torpedoes? I can provide schematics, technical expertise. You can become a real power in the Galaxy-"

"SOMEONE HAS TO PAY!" Nhlanha bellowed.

Now something like - pity? Was that pity? - softened her features. "That may be what your exalted station in Nekrosi society has accustomed you to believe. I wish it were so. But my own experience has taught me that it's rarely as simple as that, as much as we'd like it to be.

And sometimes, we refuse to see who it is who should really pay."

"What are you blathering about?"

Ma'Sala drank from the bottle again before continuing. "I fear for my cubs and grandcubs. They live on a starship in the midst of war. But I accept it, because the threat of death hangs over all of us no matter who we are or where we are - something I suspect you forget, cloistered here in your palace - and because my cubs and grandcubs are surrounded by kith and kin of many races, but all possessing great courage and honour and skill.

But still, the threat remains. I understand that threat all too well.

I returned to duty quickly after Kami was born. And I brought her with me into space, while we were in the midst of our latest conflict with the Ferasans. I couldn't bear to think of her crying if I left her to be raised by her fathers... and I was simply delighted at the idea that mother and daughter could go out there and fight the bad guys together, and that she would sit with me at the head of the table in the Mess Hall and be fawned over by my officers and crew.

Then a Ferasan terrorist group breached our ship, injecting poison gas into our hull. Her lungs... were completely burned away. She almost died.

My doctors cloned her new lungs, replaced every blood cell in her body, cleaned every atom of poison from her." Her eyes welled with tears, and despite herself, Nhlanha couldn't help but feel empathy for her fellow mother's pain, obviously still strong after all these years. "And as I looked down at that tiny, fierce little cub fighting to survive, all I could think about was... someone had to pay for this."

Ma'Sala's face hardened. "I caught up with the Ferasan terrorists who nearly killed my beautiful little daughter.

I made sure it took them a year to die."

Nhlanha nodded at that. "I understand."

But Ma'Sala held up a furred hand. "No. You don't. Not all those responsible for Kami's injuries, her pain, were punished as they deserved.

There was still... myself.

I didn't think about the danger I had put her in, bringing an infant with me into space, into combat.

Parents aren't perfect. Far from it. We can be selfish, unthinking, oblivious to what our young really need from us, whether it's attention, consideration... or discipline."

The Monarch Prime straightened up, finally seeing where this is going. "How... dare... you? You're blaming me for your kin-son murdering my children?"

"No. I'm blaming you for indulging in your children's desire to do something so foolish as to go to an actual war zone as if it were an adventure park."

Nhlanha shook as if struck. The gall, the naked gall of the woman! "Get out."

But Ma'Sala didn't. "You probably didn't think twice about it. Maybe not even once. You want to give your children everything they desire. I understand that feeling. Every parent does. But no parent should do that. Not even a parent who's a Fleet Captain... or a Monarch Prime-"

It wasn't true... "Get out!"

"But I'm not telling you anything you haven't already worked out yourself. But it's easier to deny it, to direct your wrath outward than inward-"

"GET OUT!" She lied! The woman twisted the truth, to save her miserable, murderous brood! Nhlanha wouldn't ever harm her own children, not even accidentally! "GET OUT! GET OUT!"

"You know I'm telling the truth."

It wasn't true... "NO!"

"Yes."

It wasn't true... "I- I- DIDN'T- I-"

Nhlanha broke.

It was true...

She dropped to her knees, sobbing. "I'm- I'm- I'm s-s-sorry..."

Yes.

Yes, she did it.

It had sounded like a grand adventure for them, no different than camping in the Northern Mountains or yachting in the Caspian Quay. She never thought of the dangers... she never thought at all. She expected the rest of the Galaxy to do that, give her children the same regard, the same deference and protection they received on Nekros. But in truth, the rest of the Galaxy couldn't care less about two members of royalty on a tiny planet. In the grand scheme of things, they were... nothing.

Not to her. But she had failed them.

She sobbed.

She felt large strong arms around her, holding her, as her own mother once held her, a lifetime ago, murmuring sounds of comfort and reassurance whenever she had awakened from a nightmare. This nightmare was one she knew she couldn't escape. But what she received from this alien now was still welcome.

As Nhlanha finally recovered, her breath and heartsbeat resuming their normal pace, Ma'Sala continued to hold onto her neck, murmuring in the Nekrosi's earduct, "Your Grace... I beg you. From one mother to another... I beg you. Please, please... spare my family. Killing them will not bring back your children. It will not ease your suffering, your guilt. It will do no good to anyone. There has been too much death already.

Please."

Nhlanha listened to the Caitian mother - not a diplomat, not a soldier, just a mother like herself - and she almost said Yes.

But she knew that, because of her own revelation, someone still had to pay.

"No."

And, more swiftly than Nhlanha expected, the Caitian tightened her hold and broke the Monarch Prime's neck.

There had been a sharp, single bolt of pain, and a sickening sound, and Nhlanha fell to her side, her head striking the cold, hard floor. She thought she felt suffused with a strong, steady electric charge, but in truth she didn't think she was feeling anything. She certainly couldn't move or speak.

She could still see and hear, though, observing Ma'Sala rising and moving about, pouring wine on the floor around Nhlanha's feet, wiping the surface of the bottle before letting it drop and shatter into tiny black shards.

Of course, Nhlanha understood distantly. It would look like a tragic, drunken accident by the time her body was discovered, with no suspicions pointed towards the Federation. Ma'Sala was obviously experienced at this.

Nhlanha should have been terrified. By all rights, she should have been. But it seemed as if her fear was as cut off from her as her motor functions, as Ma'Sala returned, shifting the Monarch Prime onto her back, opening her mouth enough to extend two fingers down her throat, just enough, just enough to-

Her body convulsed with a gag reflex, and the contents of her stomach rose up violently, seeking escape. An escape Ma'Sala would not allow, blocking Nhlanha's mouth and nostrils.

Their eyes met. Ma'Sala would be with her to the end.

An undignified end, Nhlanha accepted, choking on her own vomit like some drunken tavern whore. But a deserved one, she knew.

And it didn't matter.

She would soon be holding her babies in her arms once more...

THE ADVENTURES OF THE SUREFOOT WILL CONTINUE IN... BAPTISM OF FIRE