Surefoot 52: ...This Means War Pt. 01

Kami drew up to them, resting a hand on Jhess' forearm. "No. You don't need her to do what you have to do. There will undoubtedly be some emotional intensity that she'll pick up and not understand."

The spotted Caitian male made an amused sound, but nodded in acquiescence, stepping aside to let the female lift up her cub and cradle her, as he looked on in slight envy. "I won't be long."

"No, you won't; the window to get any outgoing messages is fast approaching. And you should have done this sooner."

"Yes, Ma'am." He looked to a curious Misha. "Go next door with your Mama and sister."

"I wanna stay!" the cub protested, frowning now.

"Misha," Kami said, in a tone that was gentle... but incontestable. She drew up and rubbed the side of her muzzle against Jhess'. "Just say what's on your mind, and in your heart."

The three Caitians departed, leaving Jhess alone. He glanced around, seeking a distraction, something, anything to keep him from doing what he had to do.

But finally he sat down, opening the video message recorder. He breathed in, out, controlling his rising pulse as best he could. He could do this. He could do this.

He looked to the picture frame sitting next to the monitor, tilted it into direct view: three Caitians, one of them himself, the other an adult female and a five-year-old male. He remembered the day, of course: the camping trip in the forests outside of Sohevo Minor... before he was called away eleven years ago to fight off-world. He could still remember their scents... or at least, he imagined he could.

Then he started the recorder, looking into the camera, imagining the face of the female that he once knew, once loved with all his heart. "Hello, Mreia. Yeah, I know, it's been... been too long. Or not long enough, depending on how you're feeling about me today.

I... I know you told me not to contact you anymore, that you have a new life to live without being reminded of your ex-husband. But..." He paused, breathing in before continuing. "I have a job minding the cubs of a Caitian Starfleet captain and his family onboard his starship. Well, as you'll no doubt know from the news, we're at war. And this starship is going into battle. And while we'll be avoiding actual conflict in favour of performing support duties, there's no guarantee that we'll... survive.

So I contacting you now, before what might happen... happens. To tell you a few things.

He glanced down at the desktop. "I'm sorry, Mreia. I am so sorry that our marriage couldn't work out. I'm sorry that the decisions I had made, to join the Militia and fight in the last Ferasan War, compelled you to want a divorce, to cut me out of your life... and Shau's life." Something like a smile, one that didn't reach his eyes, lifted the corners of his muzzle. "I'm still not sorry that I made those decisions, of course, and nor are you that you made your decisions; we're both far too stubborn to ever back down, are we?"

The smile vanished. "But it still hurt both of us. And I am sorry for that. And I hope that, someday, you might at least forgive me. And that you'll have found someone better than me. Someone you can be... proud to call Husband." Jhess frowned, grinding his teeth. "Mother's Cubs, Mreia, I am not going to use this opportunity to get into another one-sided argument with you! It's pointless!"

He calmed himself down again. "I've updated my will with our lawyers; I'm leaving everything in a trust fund for Shea. And no, none of the money there was earned in the Militia, it was all from my post-military work, taking care of cubs. You can't possibly object to that on ethical grounds."

He stared at the screen for almost a minute before continuing.

"Mreia... I never contested the divorce. I didn't even contest your desire to exclude me from our son's life. I never wanted to cause either of you any pain. I never asked anything of you.

I'm asking something of you now."

The tears welled up in his eyes. "Please... please make sure Shea doesn't forget me.

And please make sure he knows why I'm not there for him. That it's not because I don't want to be. I'm not asking you to compromise your beliefs, or make yourself out to be the villain in this.

Just... please make sure he knows I love him. I love him so very, very much.

You too, still. But I know you and I will never be what we were again. I'm still Shea's father.

Please..."

*

Deck 1 Fore – Bridge:

3 Hours Until Armageddon:

The cadets stood at attention besides the chairs at their assigned stations, all facing towards the centre of the circular Bridge, as Second Officer Lt Neheru, the commanding officer for their shift stood next to the Captain's Chair, his full two metre height accentuated by his lanky Kelpien frame, his thin arms folded behind him as he looked at the young, nervous faces around him, reminding him of... himself. "Shortly, our shift will end; but your duties will continue. Grab something light to eat, get showered, change into fresh uniform, and report to your secondary stations for the duration of the battle. Don't fill up on too much food, as the opportunities for toilet breaks may be few and far between, and the last thing you want distracting you during combat is a mess in your underpants."

That made some of them snicker despite their attempts at remaining professional. At the Helm, Lt Irina Velkovsky, forgoing formality to lean against her station, crossed her arms and smirked, strands of her honey-blonde hair dropping over her pale Nordic forehead.

Neheru glanced at her, almost tempting to tease her by reminding her of protocol, despite the intimate facets of their relationship off of the Bridge. His noseless, salmon-pink face creased in amusement before he continued, more seriously. "Many of you will be afraid of what will happen in the hours to come. Of how, or even if, you survive, or if your friends and colleagues will survive. Of how you will perform under fire.

Well, speaking as someone who has lived with fear for most of his life, I can assure you that such feelings are completely natural. You should be afraid. Fear, properly applied, keeps you alert... so long as you don't let it control you.

And with that fear, take this: my pride and confidence. My pride and confidence in each and every one of you. You are all a superlative group of young people, and it is an honour, a pleasure and a privilege to serve alongside you." Then he glanced at the Tellarite female at the Science station. "Except for Cadet Grehk, whose pelt smells like something I stepped in once in a swamp."

The cadets laughed, including Grehk, who snorted in satisfaction and replied, "Many thanks, Sir."

Neheru smirked, glad he thought of giving them a pep talk before the end of shift. "You may all technically still be cadets, but as far as I'm concerned, you're Starfleet, you deserve to be wearing those uniforms and being where you are now. Watch out for yourselves, and each other." He nodded to them. "Okay, Heroic Speech over, complete your end of shift assignments."

And they applauded. They actually applauded. Embarrassed, he waved them off and took the Captain's seat once more, as they followed suit at their own stations... Velkovsky being the last, offering some quick Kelpien hand gestures that were amazingly filthy to those in the know, before she too took her place as if nothing was untoward.

Neheru felt himself blush more now than from the applause: when he first began working with Irina, he thought she was as cool and efficient as a Vulcan. Well, she remained efficient, but on deepening their relationship, he found her... a Supernova.

He stretched out his long legs, liking this seat the more he sat in it, and looking forward to having a permanent place on some other ship... preferably with Irina at the Helm.

*

Deck 3 Fore – Cadets' Quarters

2.8 Hours Until Armageddon:

Zir Dassene clung onto the human male as if for dear life, until Niles Angstrom said breathlessly, "I'm- I'm already going to Sickbay to work. You want to send me as a patient?"

The Orion pulled back but still held onto him, her olive skin darkening. "Sorry! But I mean it, keep your head down, stay out of trouble, just do your job!"

The pale-skinned young man with curly blonde hair and a prominent nose grinned. "You don't have to tell me twice, Minsevi. I'm an abject coward."

She let her hands move down to his, squeezing. "Good. Stay that way, I'll manage the courage in this relationship." Still, she realised that she was the one who was lingering.

"I hope we're interrupting something interesting," teased a familiar voice, as Astrid Michele, Tori Emoto, Peter Boone and Stalac walked (or in the case of the last, slithered) up to them, Alpha Squad's human Flight Ops Specialist wrapping an arm around Zir's shoulder as if to help her escape her paramour's clutches. "Come, let's not keep our squadmate waiting."

"Squadmate?" Niles echoed with bemusement. "Who's missing?"

The rest of Alpha Squad looked to him, Tori smirking and crossing her arms. "Uh, Urad Kaldron, dipshit! Holy crap, how the frick can you not notice when he isn't around?"

"Language, Tori," Zir chided gently, explaining to Niles, "Urad asked us to meet him in the Arboretum before our shift starts. We'd best get going." She leaned in and kissed Niles on the cheek."Dinner tonight. Don't keep me waiting."

"No, Ma'am," he replied, smiling.

Down around everyone's boots, the Horta Science Specialist Stalac rumbled with amusement. "She has him well trained."

Astrid smirked. "She does like to crack the whip."

Peter chuckled. "Yeah, he's smart not to cross swords with the Green Torpedo."

Zir frowned. "'Green Torpedo'?" She grunted, shaking her head. "Come on, let's go."

"Yes, Ma'am!" they all replied in unison.

She led the way, glad that the Arboretum wasn't too far away, and hoping that it wouldn't take too long. They were getting closer to the battle, both literally and metaphorically, and she was- well, not eager for it. Certainly not eager. Eager to get it over with, more like.

"Anyone figure out why Urad wants to meet up in the Arboretum?" Tori asked.

"To smell the roses?" Stalac suggested. "Well, for you Carbs to smell the roses. I might nibble on the meditation rocks."

"He goes in there a lot," Zir observed. "I never took him for the Nature Boy type."

"He goes there for-" Peter started, but then stopped himself. "Come on..."

Before Zir could question him, they were entered the Arboretum, the air warm and thick with the scents of the varied flora within. The interior, redesigned over the past year, consisted of numerous square platforms three metres on each side, separated by walkways, each platform containing botanical displays, their specimens chosen not just for their aesthetic appeal and variety but their compatibility with the other plants in the room, and the different races of visitors here.

Zir looked around; it was almost empty, with just one or two crewmembers around. She ignored them, leading the way to the rear, a crescent of fire, flamingo and amethyst-coloured Bajoran orchids around a large patch of thick, soft chartreuse grass.

Urad Kaldron knelt on this grass, the huge, broad Hroch pachydermoid's head averted, eyes closed, his massive hands clasped before him, his gold-topped Security uniform sleeveless to accommodate his massive arms.

Zir was about to ask what he was doing, when Peter rested a hand on her forearm to stop her, his expression knowing but not giving away anything.

Then Urad opened his eyes and lifted his large head, smiling. "Thank you for allowing me to finish my prayers, Comrades." He held out his arms, his fingers open. "Please, sit. This will not take long."

"Prayers?" Astrid echoed curiously, as they began to take places on the surrounding grass.

"I never met anyone who was religious," Tori commented. "How come you never said anything before?"

Urad made a sound of amusement. "Among the Hroch, our relationship with our Numen is considered a private matter... and I am aware of the general attitude among the Federation towards the spiritual."

Zir frowned, realising with some embarrassment that she, too, had reflected the attitudes of many she had met in the Federation, and wondered how her friend could believe in such... primitive notions. "Urad, I'm sorry if we made you feel like you couldn't share a part of yourself with us."

But he harrumphed. "No, Comrade Squad Leader. None of my friends have made me feel anything less than welcome, wanted... and happy.

And you are all my friends. And more. You are my family. And this is why I have called you here at this time.

My people's Numen reminds us that our lives are fleeting, that they can extinguish in an eyeblink... and that we should take the time to open up to those who mean the most to us. And, on this day of days, such a reminder is unignorable."

He looked around them, focusing first on Zir. "You, Zir, are more than my Squad Leader. You are my older sister: strong, authoritative, confident and protective of all of us. You are our Compass, keeping us on our proper course. You have overcome terrible adversity, and you inspire us. Thank you."

Zir felt herself blush a dark pine colour at her friend's gentle, unexpected words, as Urad looked to Peter. "You, Peter, are my older brother: mature, gentle, understanding. You are suffused with compassion, and have fully embraced your role as a Healer and a Counselor, aiding body, mind and soul. Our private talks have been ineffably enriching, and I look forward to the day when I meet your daughter, and tell her what a remarkable man she has for a father."

Peter was blushing now. "Aww, hell, Urad, you don't have to say anything like that, buddy..."

Urad chuckled, glancing down at Stalac, the Horta having half-rumbled up onto the platform, his asymmetrical, orange-brown fibrous shell gently pulsating. Urad reached down and rested a grey open hand onto his friend's skin. "You, Stalac, are my younger brother: wise, studious, patient and funny. I could not have kept my continued place within the Academy without your tutelage. But more than that, you have enlightened me as to the reason behind so many of the customs and behaviours of the bizarre little creatures we are forced to live and work with." He paused, winking at the rest of Alpha Squad. "You do your Egg Mother proud."

Stalac rumbled. "Thank you, my Brobdingnagian brother. I would blush, if I could."

Urad turned to Astrid, smiling. "You, sweet Astrid, are another older sister."

She smirked. "Not that old, I hope."

Urad laughed. "You are a font of endless optimism, of confidence and assurance. You find light in shadow, beauty in bleakness, hope in despair... and if you can't find it, you bring it. You support all of us, endeavour to bring out the best in yourself... and should I ever lose 250 kilograms and grow bosoms, I can count on you to dress me in something most fashionable and complimentary."

Astrid smiled warmly, patting him on the forearm. "Count on it, Darling. And... thank you."

On his left, Tori grunted. "Typical, I'm fricking last, again."

Urad looked to her. "I always save the best for last, my little sister: my strong, spirited, obdurate... very profane little sister."

She grunted again, sounding satisfied with the description. "Fuck, yeah."

As the others laughed, he continued, reaching up and resting a hand against her face, almost completely covering it. "Your die-hard devotion – to your friends, to your work, to everything you value – is as fierce as a star. You never surrender. I hope to have a tenth of your courage and fortitude in my work."

Tori pursed her lips, aware of everyone looking at her, before she blew a raspberry. "You're just a big soft bag of hippo crap. You know that?"

Urad nodded. "Perhaps, Pottymouth, perhaps. Nevertheless, I want to tell you..." He looked to the others. "All of you... that I love you. And, should this day turn out... less than optimal... I want this moment to be the one remembered for us. No pain, no sorrow, no anger. Just love."

Zir regarded her squadmate and friend with a renewed appreciation. Her initial admiration of him for his immense physical strength and uniqueness, a boon to their status as a Squad, had grown immensely, and she began to value him as an individual: the gentleness of his spirit, his unquestioning, unwavering loyalty to his friends, his purity of heart.

She reached out and rested a hand on his. "No pain, no sorrow, no anger. Just love."

Peter's hand joined hers. "Just love."

As did Astrid's and Tori's, each echoing the words.

And all resting on Stalac's shell, his pulsing increasing. "Just love."

*

Deck 4 Aft – Main Engineering

2.5 Hours Until Armageddon:

Chief Grev stood silently and stared up at the warp core column, taking in the red pulsating fields like warmth from a fire after a cold trek across the plains of Dveth Borthogm in winter. Thoughts of Tellar made his barrel chest rise and fall within his uniform. He missed it. He missed his family. He had been away for far too long. He should go home... permanently. He had been in Starfleet for 32 years, longer than anyone else onboard, even Captain Hrelle. His pelt was greying, and his stomachs felt like they were on a constant churn.

This War was for the young pups, not old swine like himself.

He decided his course of action – he would put in his resignation after this battle – just as some of the pups on the next shift entered early. Inwardly he was pleased by their diligence. Outwardly, of course, he snorted loudly. "Increase the air filtration process in here by 200%! The air has grown as thick and rancid as a pair of Squab's socks!"

His Assistant Engineer, Ensign Nancy Yeager, strode up to him. "Come on, Chief, it can't be any worse than the stink in your quarters."

The Tellarite grunted, his blunt snout twitching with satisfaction at the Banter.

Okay, maybe he didn't have to leave right away...

*

USS James Fenimore Cooper, Deck 1 – Bridge

2 Hours Until Armageddon:

Captain Sakuth emerged from her Ready Room, stopping at the doorway and waiting for her senior officers to take the hint and look her way before she announced, "Our mission during the battle has altered. This will not concern most of you, who no doubt will continue to perform your duties to the barely-adequate levels I have come to expect of you." She looked to the junior officers awaiting at the Tactical Display at the back of the Bridge. "Lt Arrington, though I have eschewed the requirement for a First Officer, my supervision of our intelligence gathering mission during the battle will necessitate your temporary promotion to the role, to perform the minor but necessary duties."

She watched the reaction to her news on the young human's face, expecting a typical flush and rush of immature, undisciplined emotion. Instead, Giles Arrington took the orders professionally and proceeded to his work.

He remained the most noteworthy of the junior officers assigned to assist in data collation. She knew everything about him, of course: his family's long history in Starfleet, specifically in Intelligence (a connection he has consistently refused to exploit, she noted with interest); his high scores at the Academy; and of course his association with Hrelle and the Surefoot.

After his graduation he spent some time performing minor, meaningless tasks with Logistics, before transferring into Intelligence, and volunteering for field operations, where his work and professional demeanour, both public and private, belied any contamination he might have received from his involvement with Hrelle and the Caitian's ilk.