Surefoot 60: Live In Infamy

"Dad," Shau suddenly said, obviously sensing the continued tension between his parents. "The cubs you're minding now- what are they like?"

Bless you, Son... He turned to Shau once more. "Oh, they're adorable! They're Caitians, the cubs of the Captain and Counselor of the Starfleet vessel Surefoot! Misha is six, a charming little rascal, bright as a nova! And his sister Sreen has just turned one! She has Neurodystraxia, a rather severe case, and I've been helping develop and train her to use exoframes."

"Sreen? Is she the one who appeared on The Taleteller the other day?"

"Yes, that's right!" Jhess frowned playfully. "Do you still watch that?"

Shau chuckled. "Me? No! But my girlfriend's little brother does! Do you think you can get the Taleteller's autograph for him-"

"Wait, wait- you have a girlfriend? When did this start?"

His son rolled his eyes. "Dad, I had my first Season years ago!"

Jhess leaned back in his chair, thoroughly delighted. "Well, now you can benefit from my sage advice-"

Mreia set down her glass. "Shau, please step outside for five minutes. I need to speak with your father privately."

The cub looked between mother and father, his feelings about the request clear. But he finally rose, pushed back his chair and departed.

Jhess mentally braced himself, recognising when his former wife got in this mood. "What is it?"

She focused on him directly now. "I didn't agree to this reunion because my feelings have changed."

Now he reached for his wine. "So I've gathered."

"I did it because Shau keeps asking about you. And because you never contested the divorce, you made it as easy as you could... no matter how much I know it hurt you." She paused and clarified, less aggressively, "And because of your last message to us, before that battle you faced. I'm genuinely glad you survived." Her gaze dropped. "I never hated you, Jhess. Only what you chose to do with your life. You could have stayed a paediatrician, a Llalare to cubs. Instead, you..." She stopped herself from proceeding further.

For which he was grateful; they had gone through the same arguments too many times to rehash it again with any hope of a change of opinion from either of them. He glanced to his left and right, momentarily distracted by patrons having problems with their pocket minicoms. "I won't be back on Cait long, Mreia. I want to get as much time as I can with Shau. Do you begrudge me that?"

She shook her head, her face creased in consideration. "No. And I know for a fact that he'd love that. He's been scouring the news sites for all items on the Surefoot; it wasn't difficult, really, with your Captain Hrelle being such a celebrity on Cait. His teachers have reported that a lot of his essays have focused on the last War, and his Community Volunteer Service has been towards assisting in Veterans' Homes."

Jhess frowned. "Really? I didn't think you'd be okay with that."

She downed her wine. "I'm not, but he's becoming a man, able to make his own decisions. That's why, when -- not if; I'm not so naive to think it won't happen -- he asks about the War, about the Militia and fighting..."

She leaned forward, her expression intense. "I expect you to tell him the truth. No romantic hokum, no machismo-driven anecdotes, no recruitment speeches. I want him to know about the father he was too young to see years ago, the one I couldn't stay married to when you returned. The one who was a wreck.

I am so glad that you recovered, Jhess, and I can't imagine you want to recall what you went through. But I'm asking you to do so now, with our son.

I want him to fear War. Can you do that?"

And there it was. Jhess feared that, as a condition of her letting him see their son, she would ask him to do so many things he would hate himself for later.

But keeping Shau from ever following Jhess in his proverbial footsteps and picking up a gun to kill, or be wounded, or even killed? "Not a problem."

*

The outer world of Kuburan was named after one of the Seven Hells of Caitian mythology, a cold, dark oubliette reserved for Invaders and Marauders. The planetoid they approached was aptly named, and in the past millennium since the Caitians had fled their Ferasan racial cousins and settled here, it was used as a graveyard, for the remains of all the vessels -- and their crews -- that had tried and failed to attack or invade them. Ferasans, Orions, Romulans, Hur'q, Triacans, Xindi, Malurians, Nausicaans, Kzinti...

She remembered visiting the surface years ago after her promotion to Fleet Captain, hating the constricting exosuit but fascinated with the ancient wreckage around her, preserved on the airless surface. It gave her such a profound sense of history, of the burden she had undertaken in the defence of the Motherworld and her colonies.

Now, however, her mind was on more immediate things. "Status of the interference?"

Solanj's tail smacked in irritation against the side of his Ops station. "It's stronger near this sector of space... wait, I'm accessing the nearest security beacon... it's triggered a diagnostic cycle... the others are undergoing it as well!"

"If there was unprecedented stellar radiation causing the interference," Ksara opined, "It might have triggered diagnostics across all the beacons affected."

"Send a signal to Cait," Ma'Sala ordered. "And contact the Azure Aura colony and see if they're distant enough from the interference to give us a clearer picture of what's happening."

The Bridge had grown tense, and time seemed to crawl as a cub made to go to bed. Conversely, Ma'Sala's heart refused to slow down, though she kept a calm veneer.

"No response from any of the colonies," Ksara reported.

Ma'Sala frowned. "Bounce a signal to our nearest sister ships: Palefur, Leangrowl, Broken Paw, Stoutpelt, Razorteeth... we need a response..."

An alert from Ops preceded Solanj squeaking, "Distress signal from the Debris Cloud!" A second later, he elaborated, "It's Capt S'Nesint of the Broken Paw! They're experiencing main systems failures from the stellar interference!"

Ma'Sala rose to her feet. "Is it a visual or audio transmission?"

"Data only, audio/visual transmissions are being broken up by the interference. They've sent diagnostic data on their problems and are requesting assistance."

"You're running it through Security protocols?"

"Already done, Ma'am -- they meet all the protocols."

She nodded. "Run the data through our own diagnostics. Ksara, prepare a data transmission to the Motherworld, if this interference also affects civilian craft coming or going-"

The lights on the Bridge and at every station died.

Ma'Sala's paw moved to the blaster at her side. "What the Seven Hells-"

Emergency light strips came to life, and then auxiliary alarms, as the crew struggled at their stations, reports and orders shouted over each other: "Propulsion system shut down! Manoeuvring thrusters down!" "Shields and weapons offline!" "Environmental systems malfunctioned!" "Reroute battery power to stabilisers!"

"OPEN THE VIEWPORT!" Ma'Sala roared over them all.

Crew moved to comply, and the viewscreen panel, now dark from lack of power, rolled aside via the manual controls, revealing a panoramic transparent steel window, and beyond it, the huge cloud of debris circling the outer perimeter of most systems.

A cloud with hundreds of moving objects, not dust or ice or asteroids. Moving swiftly towards them.

"SHIELDS!" She turned, even as she kept an eye on the window, as circular Ferasan vessels moved along Jem'Hadar Scarab ships, disruptor cannons firing mercilessly at the larger vessel.

The Mother's Fury lurched hard to starboard, crewmembers flying to one side, Ma'Sala almost slamming into one of her Engineer's Mates, before righting herself, the sounds of alarms, hull ruptures and leaking gas filling the air. "Shields! Weapons! Thrusters!"

"Everything's down!" Ksara shouted back. "That transmission from the Broken Paw- a fake- computer virus overriding all systems!"

Ma'Sala looked back at the window, for wont of anything better to do.

More ships. Scores and scores of them, pouring in like a torrent from the direction of the colonies, and past them, the Ferasan Patriarchy. Allied with the Dominion. "Ksara! Ready a Warp Bullet to Cait with our status! We have to warn-"

Another lurch, and all tumbled forward, the flagship spinning, the view outside now a rapid, sickening blur.

Ma'Sala clung onto a rail, and grabbed Solanj before he slammed into the nearest wall beside her, aware that others were not so lucky, the centrifugal forces of their spin pinning them down.

It was a death spin. And if they weren't shot at again, her ship, the pride of the Navy, as tough as she was, would rip itself to pieces. And she had no doubt that the outer patrol vessels had all suffered similar fates.

She could hear the metal rip itself open around her.

I'm sorry Bneea, Mi'Tree, Kami, Esek, Sasha, my grandcubs.

My world.

I've left you defenceless.

I'm sorr-

*

No warning left the Mother's Fury. Their silence joined the outer perimeter defences, and the colonies and outposts beyond, all who had fallen.

The Invaders continued into the Caitian system, aided immeasurably by intelligence on the Caitian forces, security codes and other data received weeks before by an unknown source, and exploited before changes could be made to the Caitians' forces.

Inner perimeter defences received recognised signals, and were placed into diagnostic modes that prevented their intelligent systems from noting the sheer numbers of non-registered vessels swarming towards the Motherworld, moving at velocities faster than the light would take to reach any planetbound observers and warn the people the old-fashioned way.

Cait hung like a blue-green dream sailing around the huge yellow star.

By the time of their arrival, the viruses already transmitted to Cait had done their job, disrupting global communications on all channels, while the Invaders tapped into the security, communications and weather modification satellites circling the planet, overriding their functions. There was a manned platform in high orbit that visually detected the hundreds of ships pouring in, but they were unable to send a signal to anyone on the planet below, before they were blown to pieces by a Jem'Hadar fighter.

A single non-Caitian vessel in orbit at this time, the Starfleet research ship USS Kanaloa, there on shore leave, fared better, keeping their shields raised long enough for them to turn and warp out of the system.

No one pursued them. They had more important plans.

Larger Ferasan Carriers moved into position, carrying precious cargo, ready to be beamed down without warning to their targets below.

*

Sasha leaned back in the pilot's seat of her ship, rolling her neck around to work out the bruises and cramps she had obtained during her visit to the Temple. Then she turned and looked back, smirking. "Seriously, Dad?"

Hrelle stood there, holding her Kaetini sword in one paw, and his own, newly-reacquired sword in the other, bringing the black blades together until the tips almost touched. He never looked up. "What?"

"Are you really back there, comparing the lengths of our swords?" She guffawed. "Oh, I can't wait to tell Kami! She'll piss herself!"

He harrumphed and sheathed the swords. "I'm so glad I can still amuse my daughter with more than just fart noises." He stowed both swords in a wall rack next to the cockpit, before sitting down beside her. "Maybe you can return the favour by sparring with me when we're back with the Fleet? You know, come over from time to time for a match or two?"

She looked to him. "Really? Don't know what I can teach you, you have years more experience than me."

"I'm a little rusty. And it'd be good for both of us, to let loose as both our blades are made of arakanium and can offer a genuine challenge."

Sasha regarded him for a moment, before reminding him softly, with a smile, "You know I don't need reasons to come home to see you, Dad."

He smiled back. "Nice to know."

She turned back to check their progress home. "We'll be back at the Clanlands in an hour, sooner than expected. Shall we go visit my big brother Mirow and his wife, and bring home Kami and Sreen?"

Hrelle faced forward, staring out at the deep cloudless skies ahead. "Yes, it'd be a pleasure to see Mirow and Ptera again." He left it at that.

She didn't, smiling. "And Jnill too, of course? I remember how warmly she received you at the cubs' wedding. Won't you be happy to once more see your..." She frowned playfully. "What do you call her, anyway? In-Law? Kith Sister? Bond Co-Parent?" She paused and offered, "Snooty Bitch?"

Hrelle shook his head. "She doesn't deserve that, Sash. And she's been very friendly in the last five years."

Sasha laughed. "We've haven't been back to Cait in the last five years!"

He shrugged, reaching for the communication station. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder. And she can hardly flick her tail at a clan with two Kaetinis, can she? I'll contact Kami's minicom and-" He frowned. "I can't access the network."

Sasha half-listened, working the navigation station. "I'm- I'm having problems, too; I need to log a course change to Mrestir Province with Traffic Control, but their network is down as well."

Hrelle sat up, the pair of them running diagnostics, as he noted, "Nothing wrong with the Tailless' systems. Scanning for public communications, the Cynet channels, local government and military frequencies... Seven Hells, there's... nothing."

She looked to him. "The whole planet's gone quiet."

"No. It's been silenced." He keyed in a few commands. "Starfleet channels are being disrupted as well. I can't reach Kami or Jhess' combadges. Nothing from the Starfleet Office in First City."

Sasha's heart quickened. "There may be dozens, hundreds of aircraft in the air! They all depend on communications!"

He leaned forward, running more checks. "The emergency automated subnetworks are still operating. That much is-"

An alert on the Tactical panel made them look up, just in time for a flash on the northwest horizon, several hundred kilometres distant. Sasha gripped the edge of her station. "What the- what was that? An air crash?"

"No." His paws moved, swiftly entering new commands. "Explosion... massive... Mother's Cubs, a thirty isoton yield! That could vaporise cubic kilometres of matter!"

"Fuck..." She peered out; the Ravath Province was in the Northern Hemisphere of Cait, a sparsely-populated area of sloping steppes and patches of dark, thickly-packed forests of sablewood trees, and from their present altitude, it looked like an endless dark olive carpet. Now, however, a fireball could be seen, rising up. "What could cause that? Quantum torpedo strike? A starship warp core breach? What's out there anyway?"

Hrelle brought up the navigational direction, looking up again. "It's North Ravath Militia Base. Get us there, Mach 5. Hurry."

She nodded, making the course change, the Tailless shuddering as it broke the sound barrier, and the ground quickened below them. "They must have had some accident- a wahread detonation-"

"There's nothing in the typical Militia arsenal that could produce a yield that great. A simultaneous detonation, maybe, but warheads have safeguards to prevent that." He tried to access Communications again. "And it wouldn't explain the global communications blackout."

Sasha swallowed as she slowed their approach, as a massive black cloud rose higher and higher into the upper atmosphere. They saw the fallen trees before the flat grounds surrounding the base...

Or what was left of it.

There was a wide irregular shape of several square kilometres, enough to contain buildings, bunkers, airfields, helipads, hangars, towers, dormitories... housing for the civilian families.

Now, the area was sunken, as if a leviathan had scooped it all away, leaving a massive crater.

"Mother of God..." she murmured, stunned beyond belief, setting a wide orbit around the former base. "How... How many...?"

Hrelle had to force saliva back into his muzzle. "The Militia Directory says there was a population of 6,350. Including about 800 civilians."

She gasped, swallowing as she scanned the area. "There are no survivors... none... We- We have to let someone know, Dad-"

"Sasha."

She looked up, followed his gaze out, leaning in to peer at another part of the horizon. "Another plume of smoke? What's-"

"That's the direction of the Militia Base in Syeya Province," he responded coldly. "This is too big for us to manage. We have to get back home, collect our family, get them together and make sure they're safe, before working out what's going on."

Sasha keyed in another course change, before moving to the Communications panel. "Grandma Ma'Sala equipped my present with a lot of secret goodies... I'm tapping into some of the older government weather satellites up there-"

The rest of the words died away as both of them saw the images of the invasion fleet in orbit.

*

Seismological stations throughout Cait detected 112 explosions, occurring averaging thirty isotons each, on every one of the three continents on the planet and on two of the major island chains; it would be later when experts would identify the sites of the explosions as all of the larger bases of the Militia. Meteorological stations would track the plumes of smoke, suffused with lethal metreonic particles, reaching the upper atmosphere, to eventually disperse over the subsequent years.

Of more immediate concerns were the many Jem'Hadar fighters, swarming down throughout the world to attack the smaller Militia bases with more conventional weapons.

*

Capitol Building, First City, M'Mirl Province:

First Minister Shellis Dsune forced down her indigestion from an interrupted evening meal as she raced through the corridor to her Operations Centre, her Chief Administrator at her side, desperate to continue briefing her on the emergency despite looking ready to collapse from the exertion. "The- The Matriarchy Counc- Council is converg- converging at the- the Emergency Bunk- Bunker-"

"Save it for the Ops Centre, Tail High, before one or both of us pass out."

"Yes, Stilts."

Dsune tried not to laugh; she was getting on in years, having spent the last fourteen years developing a fat furry ass from endless Council meetings and a fat furry belly from endless dinners following endless speeches, so she was hardly in a position to judge the fitness of others. But she had her height to help out.

Csosi P'Sat, on the other paw, was short and squat and almost waddled like a wind-up toy... but Mother's Cubs if she wasn't the most dedicated and loyal person she ever knew.

They entered the large, semi-circular room, filled above with holographic displays of their planet, and below with operating stations and personnel shouting reports and updates to each other. Dsune put on her Big Girl Face, the one her Mama and Papa told her people in a crisis always needed, to calm them and assure them that everything was going to be alright. Even if it wasn't. "Report, Huyutr."

The tall, broad-shouldered, cinnamon-furred male in the green and black Militia uniform with Field Marshall insignia turned to her, his tail twitching. "First Minister, it's an invasion, nothing more, nothing less. A virus received earlier disabled most of the communications infrastructure, and prevented us from receiving any warning about the fleet of Ferasan and Dominion vessels now in orbit.

Shielded satellite data provided by the Caitian Secret Service confirmed they beamed down metreon-based weapons of mass destruction to all of our major Militia bases, triggering simultaneous detonations, followed by aerial attacks from Jem'Hadar ships on many of the minor bases.