Surefoot 63: Red Flags

"He is approaching now, Master Governor."

On cue, the door behind him slid open, and he caught the scent and sound of Enam-Bel drawing up from behind. "Father... we were attacked in Shanos Minor! Outnumbered! We-"

Melem-Adu heard him stop behind him, obviously now looking up at all the screens detailing the events of the day. He let him absorb it.

Then Melem-Adu spun around and swiped the claws of his right paw across Enam-Bel's muzzle, catching him off-guard... and allowing his father to grab him, clamp his teeth into Enam-Bel's throat and rip the flesh away.

All around them watched as Melam-Adu continued to consume the flesh of his offspring on the floor of the Operations Centre, blood and gore spurting around them. A few had reports to deliver, but thought it best not to interrupt, or even move, at this time.

*

Mroara-Lnee Industries, M'Restir Province:

K'Misil stopped at the doorway into his office, waiting for the lights to start, before reaching for the manual override.

"Leave it," ordered Jnill, sitting in the darkness.

The Operations Manager for Mroara-Lnee Industries stepped in slowly, drawing his greying tail in as the door slid shut, the wariness in his scent matching that in his voice. "Madame, is there- is there a reason we're meeting like this?"

"Yes."

The old male's breathing quickened. "I- I don't want to trip in here-"

"Then stay still," Shikor, making her presence known now, ordered with a growl.

"For the last twelve years," Jnill continued casually, "You've been running an illegal operation with accomplices in our annexes in Everwell, Stonebay, Elderrun and elsewhere, falsifying or exaggerating reports on damaged equipment and parts, and reselling them to my rivals."

K'Misil gasped. "M-Madame, I- I can assure you-"

"And I can assure you, old friend, that I've known what you have been up to for a long time. And I've allowed it, because you've never been greedy, and it's never had a significant effect on the completion of any contracts." She leaned back in her chair until it creaked. "I must admire your expertise; no law enforcement agencies uncovered it, and it took Ms Shikor months of intensive investigation to turn up how you communicated with the others."

"I- I-" He gasped, his breath faltering.

"There's a chair immediately to your left," Jnill offered. "Take it. We're going to be here for a while."

K'Misil reached out, found the chair, and took it. "I- I'll stop what I'm doing immediately, of course- return what I've taken-"

"You'll do neither," Jnill told him. "I'm not interested in what you've collected to supplement your Retirement Fund. We have bigger things to worry about.

You'll keep your network up and running. Only now you'll turn your efforts towards sabotage."

"Sabotage?"

"K'Misil... we can't allow the Ferasans to use these vessels we're building for them. But we can't openly refuse them, either; they'll simply take over the operations directly. So, we continue... but there will be complications. Accidents, incidents, delays, errors. Use your imagination, and your resources. But it stays between the three of us; not even my brother is to know. And anything more you or your accomplices learn about the Ferasans' plans are to brought to me personally."

He shifted uneasily in his chair. "Madame... Jnill... I'm not a soldier, I'm just an old cat-"

"As am I. But we're still Caitians. Today my daughter came home and told me how many of her colleagues at her hospital have disappeared, and how her husband, my bond-son, was almost shot down by a Ferasan fighter. We may not have plasma rifles in our paws, but that doesn't mean we can't be part of the fight..."

*

In the Shall Clanhouse, Misha was doing his best to remain silent and sullen as he sat in the living room minding his little sister, while the adults were busy preparing for departure.

In her chair, Sreen frowned at Misha, raising her stubby paw towards a plush shuris toy. "Meesh! Meesh! Shis! Shis!"

With a huff Misha set aside his playPADD and hopped off the couch, kneeling in front of Sreen's chair, lifting up the toy and making it dance and hop around the infant's head, playfully keeping it out of her grasp and making her giggle.

Kami poked her head in the doorway of the living room. "Awww, that's a good big brother there! Best one on the Motherworld!"

Misha ignored her.

She set aside the clothes she had been gathering for the journey to enter, kneeling behind her son and laying her paws on his shoulders, sending purrs through him. "Sweetheart, I was sorry before, and I'm sorry still. I explained why I had to do it, and I understand why you're still angry... but don't be angry with me for too much longer, okay?"

Misha continued to ignore her, pretending to be focused on playing with his sister.

Kami titled her head to see her daughter, sticking a tongue out before adding, "It'd be a shame if you were still angry when we get to Kaijushima Island. All those dinosaurs living there might think you were being angry with them."

Now he twisted to look up at her, his eyes wide with wonder. "Dinosaurs?"

Sreen used his distraction to grab the toy from him and shove one of its legs into her mouth to let her chew away.

*

In the kitchens, Mi'Tree was removing pots hanging over the preparation island, when S'Graow entered. "Need any help?"

He grunted, never turning. "No thank you."

"Are you sure? When are Bneea, Esek and the others landing?"

"Soon."

The older female regarded the back of Mi'Tree's head, before entering and standing opposite him at the island. "I never apologised to you, for the way I treated Ma'Sala all those years ago."

His expression was dour, his voice curt. "Don't bother. Your sister was the one deserving of apology."

"I know. But it's too late for that. I can at least apologise to you."

Mi'Tree harrumphed, moving away to collect fresh ninshoots from the cooler.

"You know I'll be remaining behind when the rest of you go off to..." She paused, waiting for him to finish. When he didn't, she continued. "I know, I know, it's safer for me not to know. Well, wherever you're going, I promise to keep the place safe, and keep silent."

He was chopping the ninshoots on a wooden board with a large kitchen knife, but now he stopped and looked up at her, his gaze narrowing and his voice taking on a melodious... and menacing... tone. "Yes. But that's hardly fair on you, is it? What if the damned Ferasans come back? They might question you. Torture you, even." Something like a smile lifted the corners of his muzzle. "Nobody would want to see that happen. Nobody. Maybe you should just come with us?"

"What? No, that won't be necessary-"

He pointed the knife at her, seemingly without malice. "Oh, I think it will, my dear. In fact, I insist. It's the least I can do for my bond-sister."

S'Graow stared back at him, before relenting. "Maybe I should pack a bag and be ready?"

"Yes. Maybe you should."

She smiled and departed, returning to her own room, and retrieving a minicom from her bag and opening a channel. "It's me."

A gruff male voice responded. "Are they all there yet?"

"Not yet, but they're coming. And we'll all be leaving together. They haven't told me where yet."

"Let us know when they arrive."

She grunted, and then asked, "You'll keep our agreement? I'll be free, and keep everything?"

The voice chuckled. "Why not? You'll be the last survivor of your clan before we're done..."

TO BE CONTINUED...