Surefoot 49: Tooth and Claw

As they proceeded back out the door, Sasha took one last look at the addition to Engineering.

Catalytic converter, her fat toches.

*

They weren't long in the Ready Room when Kohanim broke the tension. "Captain, I might not be the brightest star in the constellation, but even I can grasp that there's more going on here than just our testing some converter - assuming such a thing is even real."

Weynik leaned against his desk and folded his arms. "Really? If it's not a converter, what do you think it might be?"

"A Prowl," Sasha replied first, elaborating as all eyes turned to her. "A Caitian cloaking device."

Ctuuri reacted most profoundly to her answer, mostly by making an effort not to react, leaving Kohanim to ask, "The Caitians possess illegal cloaking devices? In violation of the Treaty of Algeron?" He stared at the only representative of the group present for an answer.

The sepia-furred Caitian male continued to regard Sasha with deep, handsome bronze eyes. "I couldn't possibly comment on something like that one way or the other, Lieutenant Commander."

Kohanim looked to Weynik now with mild exasperation. "Captain, with respect, we're all supposed to be adults here, professionals!"

"Hmm..." Weynik now looked to Ctuuri. "Major? My crew work better with at least a minimum of information."

Ctuuri regarded the group, before finally shrugging. "Lt Hrelle is correct. The Caitian Planetary Navy has been secretly employing cloaking devices called Prowls for many years. They're not as broadly effective as Romulan versions, but they've sufficed when dealing with the vessels of our ancestral enemy."

"Ferasans," Sasha almost spat, sounding more angry than her attempts at professionalism would have preferred, but not caring. She'd had little knowledge of Ferasans until a couple of years ago, having learned that they were an Augmented version of Caitians, who had dominated their birthworld over a millennium ago and forced the Caitians to make an exodus and find another planet to call home.

Since then, the Ferasans had ventured out to raid other worlds in the Quadrant, but mostly to try and finish what they'd started with the Caitians, believing them to be weak, inferior, easy prey. They were wrong, but the cost in lives over the last few centuries on both sides had been considerable.

Sasha's own personal encounter with Ferasans led to threats of rape and torture against Kami and her, and Sasha ending up with a broken arm. She'd be happy to spend the rest of her life without ever meeting one again.

"Yes, Lieutenant," Weynik confirmed. "And the Prowl has been secretly installed onboard the Ajax because Starfleet Intelligence reports that a Ferasan Prideship, the Blacktalon, is planning to meet with Dominion representatives in the Stella Tenebris system, for preliminary negotiations."

"Negotiations?" Kohanim echoed. "Towards what?"

"It will either be a mutual non-aggression pact," Ctuuri responded soberly, "As has been the case between the Dominion and non-aligned powers such as the Gorn and the Miradorn... or it may be a prelude to an actual alliance, such as with the Cardassians."

That gave Sasha pause. She'd already read the reports about the terrible successes of the Dominion-backed Cardassians in the Dematerialised Zone against the Maquis, and didn't want to think about something equivalent for the Ferasans. She smacked her hands together in anticipation and grinned. "So, we're going there to blow them to the Seven Hells? Great. When do we start?"

Weynik responding with, "We're going there, Lieutenant, on an intelligence-gathering mission, utilising the Prowl to stay invisible while using our new coherent neutrino beam to eavesdrop on their discussions. We have orders not to engage with either party."

Sasha's face tightened. "Permission to speak freely, Sir?"

"Denied; I'm fully aware of both your personal feelings regarding the Ferasans, and of your ability to take the permission to speak freely and wreak havoc on all and sundry. As it happens, I have been informed that revealing our presence could endanger those Starfleet Intelligence and Caitian Security Service field operatives who alerted us to this meeting in the first place."

Weynik looked to Kohanim. "Lieutenant Commander, return to the Bridge and take us to Stella Tenebris, Warp Nine; we should reach there in approximately five days. Lieutenant, escort Major Ctuuri to the Bridge, familiarise him with our systems and ensure he can interface the Prowl controls from one of our auxiliary stations, and then secure him guest quarters. Major, I would prefer you kept your interaction with the rest of my crew to a minimum."

The Caitian male nodded. "Of course, Captain."

"And do I need to mention that the details of this mission are not to be discussed outside of the four of us? No? Good. Dismissed." He looked up at a still-unmoving Sasha, adding, "That means all of you."

*

Sasha spent most of the rest of the watch on the Bridge, working closely with Ctuuri, familiarising him with the displays and protocols on a Starfleet vessel, her own experience with Caitian operating systems allowing her to show him a few tricks.

But also to remain increasingly aware of his interest in her, how he kept glancing at her, his pointed ears twitching, how the tail would brush up against the backs of her legs when they were leaning in closely.

Not that he wasn't handsome, for an older male, and he had a strong, pleasing musk, at least as far as her limited human senses could perceive. But given she was seeing Jim currently, and given the trouble she'd gotten into already lately, she didn't want to tempt fate and get mixed up in a casual affair with a visitor to the ship. And the whole business with this mission was distraction enough; the thought of just sneaking around the enemies of her people without taking them on was-

"Lieutenant?" he was prompting.

She looked to him again. "Major?"

The male leaned in, his voice dropping to a confidential whisper. "I just wanted to say that your attitude towards the Ferasans-"

She blushed with embarrassment. "I know, I know, I'm a Starfleet officer, I'm not supposed to be bloodthirsty or wish destruction on others-"

"Well, I can't speak for what your duties as a Starfleet officer require of you," he interrupted gently, "I was about to say that your attitude towards the Ferasans certainly marks you as the granddaughter of Fleet Captain Ma'Sala Shall."

She blinked. "You know my grandmother?"

"Only by reputation, at least until a few few days before leaving Cait on this mission, when I had the honour to meet her, and your grandfathers. Ma'Sala reminds you to always keep a weapon close to hand. Bneea advises that you don't overdo the shuris snacks and get a fat rear end like your other grandfather Mi'Tree, who hopes that you are rutting frequently with many fit young partners."

She tried not to blush, failed, and then smirked. "Are all Caitian grandparents like them?"

He smiled. "Pretty much."

"Lieutenant?"

She looked over at Kohanim. "Sir?"

The Zakdorn was in the Captain's chair, but had swivelled around to face her. "Your watch is over; your duties will resume at 1100 Hours tomorrow, when we reach Stella Tenebris. In the meantime, escort Major Ctuuri to his quarters."

*

She brought him to the outside of his quarters, glad to be putting some space between them, when Ctuuri turned and asked, "Lieutenant, would you please come in here with me? I need to speak with you about a private matter."

She blinked, feeling more than a little uncomfortable at having to express aloud her status. "Major, for the record: you're an attractive male, but I'm unavailable."

He stared at her "Excuse me?"

Sasha had hoped he would have taken the hint, but instead held up her hands towards him. "Human females might not be as perceptive as our Caitian counterparts, but I'm getting the obvious signs from you. This is just to let you know, before it goes too far, that you're-"

"Married."

She blinked. "Sorry?"

"Married," he repeated, sounding amused. "Happily. With a son almost your age."

She blinked again. "Oh."

He drew back, grinning now. "You sound disappointed."

She shook her head quickly. "No, no! It's just- I, ah..." She paused, silently willing for an emergency beam-out, or a spatio-temporal anomaly to swallow her up. When neither was forthcoming - thanks a lot, Universe, you unreliable bitch - she asked, "This conversation never happened. Can we agree on that?"

"What conversation?" He stepped closer to the door, triggering it to slide open. As they entered, Sasha noting with approval that his possessions had been safely delivered, he waited for the door to shut before he continued. "To the credit of your senses, Lieutenant, I was interested in getting to know you, and to getting you in here, but the reason for either wasn't sexual."

"It wasn't?"

He glanced at her again, chuckling. "You still sound disappointed; my wife will love hearing about this. No, my interest in you is professional: to assess your character, your traits and abilities."

"Assess me?" She crossed her arms. "Are you some recruiter for the Planetary Navy?"

He chuckled, moving to one of his bags and removing several framed images of himself with a female and a handsome young male, setting them here and there. "I wear many furs in my life, as we all do. One of them is with a select group of special individuals, led by a very special female-"

She dropped her arms, her expression sobering. "You're with the Mother's Claws?" She knew of the unofficial branch of the Caitian Secret Services, headed by Ma'Sala, though no one ever usually spoke of it aloud, let alone confirmed its existence.

He paused and looked back at her. "If I even admitted to knowing what that was, I would say No." He removed from his bag a long, leather-swaddled object, rose and approached her. "The female I am referring to is Mistress Nvell."

The name made Sasha gasp. Mistress Nvell? The Head of the Temple of K'Gressir? Sasha knew of her, of course; anyone who studied the martial art knew its most renowned practitioner.

Sasha had studied K'Gressir since she was ten, surprising Caitians with how well she had picked up the art, given her human limitations compared with the strength, speed and flexibility of the race that had created and perfected the art, even when she was allowed to use clawed gauntlets to compensate for her lack of real talons. And she knew that some had questioned whether or not her place on the Roll of K'Gressir Adepts was due more to influence from her kin-grandmother and father, than to any talent on her part... at least, until they saw her in action.

Still, as she accepted the bundle, setting it down on an adjacent table, she remained confused. "What would she be sending me-" She stopped, looking at him, her eyes widening. "No way..."

He smiled.

She unravelled the covering, slowly, her pulse quickening as she peeled back the layers, revealing... a sword and scabbard. The scabbard was of a deep red-black amburwood, reinforced with thin, criss-crossed leather bands that extended to allow it to be strapped to the owner in various ways, the crossguard was thin and concave, the hilt segmented in black with finger guards, and the round pommel was stamped with a red pawprint symbol, an almost identical design as employed in the Interstellar Aid Registry to identify ambulance vessels of felinoid origin, and which currently appeared on the Surefoot.

She grasped the scabbard with one hand, clasped the hilt with the other, and drew out the blade, revealing an incredibly-thin, sixty-two centimetre long slice of satiny grey metal with a pointed tip and long, thin fuller grooves in the upper section towards the crossguard... and her name and clan, in Old Caitian, carved into the blade.

The metal glistened in the light above as she raised the blade up, turning it to show that the blade was so thin it was almost invisible to her eyes. Her voice dropped to a whisper, "Mother's Cubs... she sent me a... a Kaetini's Sword. W-Why would she send me this?"

Ctuuri stood close, his voice reverential. "Because... you're a Kaetini now."

She stared at him. "What?"

"You've earned a place that very few can attain. Not even those who have reached higher Tiers in K'Gressir than you are automatically worthy of it. It takes far more than just proficiency in the martial arts to be a Warrior of the Great Mother."

He reached out, but didn't quite touch it, as if afraid it might reach out and cut him first for the effrontery. "So beautiful: forged from the remains of the Arakanium hulls of the ships that carried our ancestors to Cait during the Exodus, an alloy lighter than paper but stronger than tritanium, reinforced to a permanent nanosharpness with technology forgotten by all but those in the K'Gressir Temple at T'Grerish Nein..."

She half-listened, transfixed once more by the weapon given to her. She remembered the bedtime stories Dad used to tell her about the Kaetini, and the adventures they had when Caitians were still taming their new world, in the centuries before the Quadrant had begun to fill with spacefaring races. She had dreamed of becoming one of this band of intrepid warriors. And now, that dream was a reality.

Or was it just a dream? She looked to Ctuuri. "Are you sure you have the right girl?"

He rocked in place, pretending to take the question seriously, before responding, "Are you the human Sasha Hrelle who saved the lives of her class and her teacher at the age of eleven? Who rescued a group of abducted Malurian children bound for slavery? Who died protecting a prominent Caitian civilian from a Vlathi assassin? And who most recently faced a pack of Klingons single-handedly?" He nodded. "Then, yes, I have the right girl."

She flushed, hating the attention. "That was- those were nothing- I was just doing what I had to do- it's not heroic or anything-"

He smiled and pointed a finger at her. "You remind me of my son C'Ria. I can't recall ever seeing that cub without a PADD and pen in hand, writing stories, poems, essays. The words pour from him like scent, and every time I see him crouched somewhere, his tail dancing with deep thought, I know he's at his happiest. He's talented, has received praise from teachers and even local publishers.

But still, he doubts himself. Doubts he's worthy of the commendation. 'I'm just scribbling', he'll tell his mother and me.

And we tell him, 'With our gifts, we have the power to move hearts and minds towards the good, towards healing and strength. With our gifts, we have the power to save lives. Don't dismiss that, or you end up dismissing those lives we touch with those gifts.' With C'Ria, his gifts are the words he can sew together to inspire, to comfort and illuminate.

With you, your gifts are your courage, your strength and valour. And the lives you have saved were literal." He returned to his bag, bringing back a black holodisc he set on the table beside the sword. "But if you don't believe me, maybe someone else can convince you..."

He activated the disc and stepped back, as a metre-high hologram appeared: a snow-furred Caitian female of advanced age but retaining a strength and vitality in how she bore herself, in how she folded the billowy sleeves of her deep purple robes into each other, and seemed to stare across at Sasha. "Sasha Hrelle of Clan Shall: Twelve years ago, your name appeared on the Register of First Tier Adepts of K'Gressir. Few if any non-Caitians even knew of K'Gressir, so I dismissed you as a temporary oddity, some tailless ape dabbling in an art she was ill-equipped to understand, let alone master, and who would soon disappear into obscurity.

It is pleasing to know that even at my advanced state of decrepitude, I can admit to being wrong.

Over the succeeding years, you became noteworthy. Not just for overcoming the limitations of your form to achieve Tier after Tier, but for your acts of valour among the stars, acts witnessed and corroborated. You have even given your life, on more than one occasion, I am told, and I thank the Great Mother for allowing you to continue to be among the Living.

The Kaetini were formed during the early, arduous times after First Landing: we represented hope, strength, fortitude, loyalty, honour, selflessness... the best of our people. We were symbols, ideals. And though now, in this Age of Federations and Starfleets, we may not have the influence we once had, but we still remain true to those ideals. Ideals you already share and demonstrate in abundance.

We are not a club that one can buy their way into; though you have many important people in your Clan, they did not earn you this place. You did.

Tan Ctuuri, a fellow Kaetini, will instruct you in the coming days, on the responsibility you have just undertaken. Assuming that you have accepted it." She smiled. "But I suspect that, though you may have doubts as to your worthiness, you will still accept. Welcome, Kaetini Sasha Hrelle of Clan Shall."

The holoimage disappeared.

Stunned, Sasha looked to Ctuuri. "You're a Kaetini, too?"

He nodded. "Since I was twenty-five. I... I had an... interesting set of experiences in the last Ferasan War. Others saw me, saw something in me, sponsored me."

"And they let you be a Kaetini and stay a member of the Navy?"

He smiled. "It's not a full-time occupation. Kaetini exist in all strata of Caitian life: soldiers, parents, doctors, teachers, artists, butchers, cooks, cleaners, administrators... we are not aristocracy, we get no recompense or reward or reserved parking spaces or even a discount at the local shuris grill, and we rarely advertise who we are."

Sasha swallowed. This was all so sudden, so unexpected. She looked to him. "Is this mission with the Ferasans even real?"

"It's sadly very real; it was just a fortunate happenstance that I am Kaetini, and also an expert on the Prowls." His expression narrowed at her, and he nodded to the scabbard. "Put it on."

She stared back, her insides churning... this time with an acute excitement. It was hers. She deserved it. She moved the sword to her side, wrapping the straps around her waist and securing them with the bolt attachments, adjusting it, her hand resting on the base of the hilt and the crossguard. It felt... good.

Damn good.

"Do you know the Oath of the Kaetini?" he asked.

She straightened up, remembering the words from the stories. "'I am Kaetini: a Warrior of the Great Mother.

I am Her Eyes, and I am Her Ears.

I am Her Teeth, and I am Her Claws.

I am Her Purr, and I am Her Roar.

I will defend the Living, and I will avenge the Dead.

And I will give my life to protect the Motherworld and Her people.'"

He beamed. "Well done."

She couldn't help but smile back. "So, ah, is there an Initiation?"

"You just had it." He dropped to one knee, head bowed, speaking in Old Caitain, "Welcome to our Order, Kaetini Sasha Hrelle."

The tears flowed unchecked down her face.

She hoped she would be worthy of this.

*

Weynik studied the blade. "Remarkable. It's a little too large for someone of my size, but I can tell its balance is perfect." He looked to a wary-looking Kohanim, sitting beside him in the Conference Room. "Would you care to hold it, Lieutenant Commander?"

The Zakdorn blanched. "Um, no thank you. No offence, Lieutenant, but my people have always considered our tactical acumen to be the only weapon we should handle."