Surefoot 64: Thousand Scars

Udul-Lit stood there, thumbs tucked into his wide black leather belt, flanked by the other two males. "I am aware, Madame. I am also aware that you have as yet to fulfil your side of the bargain."

"That's hardly my fault; Captain Hrelle and his human daughter have been away, no doubt making plans at their secret base of operations."

"I gathered that much myself, Caitian."

S'Graow took a moment to breathe in, as she continued to assess him. He was certainly a more brusque, impulsive sort than the last one she had been dealing with, the one who had agreed to an arrangement. But still, she had spent a lifetime learning to wrap her tail around others. And though she had never encountered Ferasans until they came to her world, she thought she had the measure of them by now. "I explained to the other Ferasan that I needed more time, time to get them to open up and trust me enough to lure the other Hrelles here-"

"The other Ferasan Pridemaster no longer has the responsibility to achieve that goal," Udul-Lit informed her. "I do. And I am not a patient male."

"I swear to you, I will do anything to help you- Wait!" She paused, and then suggested, "If they think you're hurting me in here, Kami'll give in. I've softened her up."

Then he raised a finger, his eyes widening with comprehension. "Of course! What a brilliant idea! When we drag your bloodied corpse back in there, that will surely break them!"

S'Graow frowned. "Wait- What are you talk-"

He drove his fist into her stomach, making her double over and drop to the floor, even as she distantly heard Udul-Lit clear the desk behind her of objects on its surfacing, telling his sons, "Let your old man have some fun first, okay, cubs?"

S'Groaw fought back the pain to try and crawl away, as futile a gesture as that was, before Udul-Lit broke her muzzle, grabbed her by her mane and lifted her up to rip off her clothes and continue beating her.

* * * * *

Kaijushima Island:

Standing beside his bond-father Bneea, Hrelle looked at the assembled group of new arrivals with no small measure of pride, how many of them could still fit in their old uniforms, and chose to wear them now, in this hour of need. "Thank you. Thank you all for choosing to come here. Those of you who brought families will be billeted as much as possible, we're arranging for recreational and educational areas for the cubs, rotas for the cafeteria. We are short on medical staff at the moment, so-"

"Ahem." An auburn-furred, middle-aged female in a more modern, blue-themed Starfleet uniform, crossed her arms, her scent and expression acerbic. "Gilian T'Ana, Chief Medical Officer, USS Cerritos. As it looks like Shore Leave is over, I'd better step up. Just tell me when we can expect Starfleet forces to appear to help take back the Motherworld?"

Hrelle crossed his arms. "Look around. We're it."

T'Ana stared at him, before turning to the Caitian to her right and asking, "Is he fucking kidding?"

"I wish I was." Hrelle replied, adding to the rest, "There will be a formal Security briefing at 2000 Hours tonight. Dismissed," He looked to Bneea. "Take Dr T'Ana to the Medical Bay, along with anyone else with the qualifications to assist." Then he turned as Lt Mori approached, noting the young male's scent of concern. "What is it?"

"Captain, Counselor Hrelle hasn't reported in at the assigned time."

Hrelle frowned. "You didn't try to contact the house, did you?"

"No, Sir. I followed Security Protocol, and sent several prompts to her portable comm unit, with no response."

He glanced at Bneea, who had stayed on hearing the news. "Have we picked up any Ferasan traffic in Mnara?"

Mori hesitated. "Not communications traffic, Sir... but I've been making improvements in accessing and monitoring the Ferasan Transporter Network. A large number of Ferasans were transported into the Mnara Province. I'm triangulating now."

"Why is it taking so long?" Bneea asked impatiently.

Hrelle knew the answer to that, but the young male beat him to it. "We need to hide and conserve our access of their Network for such activities, Mr Shall, in case they backtrack to us."

"Let's go," Hrelle commanded, his thoughts stretching out five thousand kilometres eastward across the Sea of Denara to the Shall Clanlands. Beloved, please be safe, you and our cubs...

* * * * *

Kami forced herself to stay calm as she heard the sounds from the study. She had to stay calm for the sake of her cubs, her family, around her. But Great Mother, what was happening in there was unmistakable-

"What going on?" Misha demanded loudly, obliviously, looking to the adults. "Is Aunt S'Graow fighting them?"

Mi'Tree wrapped a large arm around the cub, his face also creased with agitation at what they were hearing. "No, no, Dear Cub, just... just sit here, don't move, don't make noise..."

Kami looked across to Mirow and Ptera; her kin-son was also distressed, though perhaps as much for his wife and how the situation was affecting her condition. She sat there, paws clutching either side of her belly, head bowed, face concentrated to control her stress, though her rounded ears kept twitching.

Kami adjusted her support of Sreen in her arms. She couldn't let this continue. She looked to the nearest Ferasan. "Get your Pridemaster, I'll summon my husband."

No one moved.

"Didn't you hear me? Stop what you're doing to S'Graow! I'll contact Captain Hrelle!"

"Kami," Mi'Tree breathed.

Then Udul-Lit returned, carrying the bottle of Spican flame whiskey that had been in the study, sauntering in as if having just woken up, and moving for a spare chair.

Kami caught the scent of sex -- and blood -- from him, swallowed her own revulsion, and focused on remaining composed. "Pridemaster, tell your sons to stop what they're doing to my aunt. I'll contact Captain Hrelle."

The Ferasan lifted up the chair by its back and brought it closer to her, turning it around so he could straddle it, grunting slightly as he made himself comfortable.

"Pridemaster," she entreated more forcefully. "It's not necessary to hurt her any longer!"

It went quiet in the study.

"I think you're right, Counselor," he noted dryly. "Where is your husband?"

She stared back at him, unable to think about S'Graow, needing to focus on saving the rest of them. "We have a hidden base, in the Northern Circle: Ice Station Zebra."

Udul-Lit nodded. "And you can contact him?"

Kami nodded. "There's a communicator, on top of the refrigeration unit in the kitchen."

The Pridemaster looked up to one of his males and made a gesture, the male quickly complying and returning with the handheld unit. Udul-Lit accepted it, studied it, and then found the right controls and switched it on. "Captain Hrelle? Are you there?" He smiled at Kami as he added, "Don't make me break your son's arm to make you talk, Captain."

Esek's voice finally responded. "Who is this?"

The Ferasan smiled. "I am the male who has taken your house and your family. I want you and your tailless ape daughter here. Immediately."

A pause, and then, "We'll comply. Don't hurt anyone."

Udul-Lit looked up as his sons returned from the study... bloodied. "Oh, it's a little too late for that, Captain. Your Matriarch is dead. The rest are about to follow, right now."

"Wait- I'm on the other side of the world, it'll take time for us to get there!"

"Not my problem. The sooner you get here, the more survivors there'll be."

"NO! DON'T HURT THEM! I'M COMING-"

Udul-Lit switched off the communicator and threw it away. His eyes still on Kami, he said, "Pa-Sankh, go outside, tell your uncles and cousins to be on alert. The Starfleet scum will be here before you know it."

* * * * *

"Oh, it's a little too late for that, Captain. Your Matriarch is dead. The rest are about to follow, right now."

Hrelle's heart triphammered."Wait- I'm on the other side of the world, it'll take time for us to get there!"

"Not my problem. The sooner you get here, the more survivors there'll be."

"NO! DON'T HURT THEM! I'M COMING-"

From his station in the Ops Centre, Mori looked up with an alarmed expression. "The transmission was cut off at the source, Sir."

Hrelle stopped listening, pushing past the others in the room to go to the next Comm station, calling up, "Sasha! Come in! ANSWER!"

Terrible seconds later, she responded. "Dad? What's wrong?"

"Where are you now?"

"Over the Free Sea, east-southeast of Bahari-"

"Never mind! Turn around, get to our house! The Ferasans are there! They've killed S'Graow, they're gonna kill the others! GO!"

"I'm on it! We'll be there in twenty minutes! Tailless out!" He heard the transmission end.

He stepped back, fighting his thoughts -- Fucking idiot, you should have brought them here from the very start! -- and turned to the others in the room, seeing Biggles. "One of your transport ships-"

The older aeronaut looked to him. "Is yours... but they're standard commercial vehicles! At their top speeds it would still take at least five hours to get to Mnara Province!"

Hrelle bared his claws, turned and roared up at the ceiling, his limbs coiled like springs. They were all going to be killed! NO NO NO NO NO NO-

"Sir!" Mori called to him, looking too terrified to approach. When Hrelle fixed on him, he continued, "Sir, I might be able to get you there immediately, using the Ferasan Transport Network!"

"What?" He approached the younger male. "How? It's secure, they could trace the beam back to us!"

"I don't think so, Sir, not if we limit it to one trip, one way, one person!" Mori looked so earnest.

Hrelle knew that sometimes, the young will exaggerate in order to impress or placate. He didn't know if this was the case. He didn't care. "You have five minutes to get ready. I'm getting some weapons." He glanced at Bneea, who looked like Hrelle felt, nodding and offering a silent assurance that he would save them.

Those that he could.

* * * * *

In the Tailless, one minute ago, Sasha rechecked the Prowl cloaking device, before Nenjo noted, "You need to stay below the speed of sound, or the Prowl will not be able to compensate for atmospheric disruption-"

"I know the requirements for a cloaked ship in an atmosphere," Sasha informed her sharply. "I'm not some tail-chasing cub."

Nenjo grunted and looked away. "Do you really think that using our phrases, speaking our language and being adopted into one of our clans will ever make you one of us?"

Sasha glanced in her direction. "Wow, that's very direct; that's so unlike a spy. Hope they don't take away your secret decoder ring-"

Then her father's voice filled the cockpit. "Sasha! Come in! ANSWER!"

She froze for a heartbeat. "He's breaking radio silence?" She opened the channel. "Dad? What's wrong?"

"Where are you now?"

"Over the Free Sea, east-southeast of Bahari-"

"Never mind! Turn around, get to our house! The Ferasans are there! They've killed S'Graow, they're gonna kill the others! GO!"

She moved instantly. "I'm on it! We'll be there in twenty minutes! Tailless out!" Her fingers moved over her controls.

Nenjo looked to her. "Twenty minutes? Are you insane? We can't get there in twenty minutes! We're nearly six thousand kilometres away! Every Ferasan sensor on the planet will pick us up!"

Sasha ignored her, continuing to key in the necessary commands. Harnesses snaked out over both occupants, and neck braces rose up from the seats.

"They'll be onto us like flies on shit!"

Sasha overrode the safety blocks on the deflectors, structural integrity and inertial dampening fields.

"Are you even listening to me?" Nenjo demanded.

She keyed in the final command. "No."

Outside of the Tailless, the impulse engines, tailored to provide a tight energy signature to minimise the chance of detection even when not cloaked, were switched off, in favour of the overdrive jets, their nuclear engines igniting a hellfire that extended a kilometre behind the flyer, literally burning the air as it pushed the craft past the speed of sound in an instant, and then continued to accelerate.

Within the cockpit, the occupants were pressed back into their seats, feeling like the weight of worlds pressed down upon them despite the compensation from the inertial dampeners, Sasha's hand still connected to the emergency controls on the arm of her chair as she watched them rise from subsonic speeds, to transonic, to supersonic.

And then to hypersonic.

* * * * *

In the Capitol, in the Occupied Command Centre, a Ferasan technician scanning the Southern Hemisphere of the planet peered at his screen, frowning as he rechecked his findings, before calling out, "Subpridemaster! I have an unauthorised object travelling at north by north-east at... oh shit..."

His superior drew up. "And what has impressed you so... mightily..."

His question trailed away as he saw the object on the screen, something the size of a Ferasan scout, travelling at a six thousand kilometre altitude.

At 17,280 kilometres per hour.

"Oh shit..." Louder now, he called out, "Alert the orbital patrols! We have an enemy missile moving towards the Mnara Province!"

* * * * *

Kami clutched her infant tighter to her, swallowing, trying to ignore the scent of her aunt's blood, her flesh and fur, on the Ferasans who had raped and killed her. "Udul-Lit-"

"What's this?"

She looked up to see the Pridemaster reappear in her view, carrying a small transparent case with a carefully-folded maroon shirt inside. He held it up to her. "Well?"

The breath caught in her throat. No, leave that alone, please... "It's nothing, it's..."

Still beside his wife, Mirow, obviously recognising it as Kami had, spoke up. "Leave that alone!"

Udul-Lit barely acknowledged him, focusing on Kami. "Well? I found it hidden in your bedroom. Are you just fastidious with your laundry?"

She swallowed. "It's... a memento of a deceased loved one that's kept vacuum-sealed to retain the scent on it. Preserved properly, it can trigger intense scent-memories in Caitians, even more intense than seeing or hearing recordings."

Udul-Lit looked at it again. "Really? And who did this belong to?"

"My first husband, Mirow's father. Please, we're cooperating with you, there's no reason to do anything to it-"

Udul-Lit broke the seal and took the shirt out, throwing the case aside. He made a show of sniffing at it, frowning, before tossing it to one of his sons. "Clean yourself up, Pup, you're covered in Caitian."

"You didn't have to do that!" Mirow snapped furiously at him.

The Ferasan looked at him, nodding. "You're right. I didn't. But Captain and Lieutenant Hrelle are still not here, and I'm bored. Would you rather I focus on your breeding sow beside you?"

"Pridemaster," Kami spoke up, her voice taut, recapturing his attention, desperate to put aside her grief and fury at his deliberate, cruel act of destruction of one of the last vestiges of her late husband. " I swear to you on my cubs' lives, my husband and bond-daughter are thousands of kilometres away. They would not put us at risk by not getting here any sooner than they possibly could. There is no need to behave like this. There's no point to it. We can all act in a civilised fashion."

"No they can't," Mi'Tree muttered.

Kami stiffened, forced down her reaction. No, Papa, stay quiet, stay quiet, wait until Esek and Sasha get here...

Udul-Lit looked to him now. "Did you say something, Old Cat?"

"Ignore him, Pridemaster," Kami urged. "He's just upset over S'Graow-"

"I am not." Mi'Tree bared his teeth as he glared at the Pridemaster, his voice raised and clear and coiled with anger. "As far as I'm concerned, that treacherous female got what she deserved. And I said that you can't act in a civilised manner. Your kind never can. All that precious genetic manipulation you boast about, when you should have focused about augmenting your civility, your compassion, your decency.

You attacked our world. Killed thousands. You torment and threaten my family.

You murdered my beloved wife Ma'Sala.

You're nothing more than filthy animals."

"Papa!" Kami snapped, making Sreen stir awake.

"Are we, now?" Udul-Lit growled, looking amused at the outburst. He tossed the bottle to one of his sons. "Such fire... from a mewling, domesticated, woman-worshipping old cat that smells of piss. Like all the males of this misbegotten sub-breed that infest this world!"

Mi'Tree bolted to his feet, baring his claws and teeth. "Face me, you old bastard, Male to Male, and see how domesticated I am!"

"Yeah!" Misha urged. "Get him, Grumpy!"

"Grandpa, no!" Mirow called to him from his place with Ptera.

"Papa!" Kami snapped. "This isn't one of your action Vivids!"

Then Udul-Lit started, eyes wide as he pointed at him. "You're... Mi'Tree Shall! That one! The actor!"

The declaration of recognition made the Caitian pause. "You- You've heard of me?"

The Ferasan smiled, looking to his males. "Seven Hells, yes! Bootleg Vivids of your work have been imported to Ferasan Prime! Your Clawback series was astounding! So entertaining!" He chuckled with delight. "My favourite was Clawback III: Die, Ferasans, Die! That climax on the Sand Crawler, the way that you fought all those nasty, horrible Ferasans who had abducted your love interest... I mean, of course they were all Caitians made up as Ferasans, but still, we loved it!" He shook his head, still smiling with the memory. "This is such an honour, Sir. Such an honour."

Then he drew his disruptor pistol and fired point blank at Mi'Tree.

The blue bolt struck the Caitian square in the chest, propelling him backwards into the nearest wall, knocking pictures from their hooks as he slumped to the floor, a smouldering, blackened burn near where his heart was.

Kami froze, unable to speak, to move. No, please, no, Papa-

"GRUMPY!" Misha leapt off the couch towards the fallen Caitian, a smouldering, blackened hole, looking to him. "Get up! GET UP!"

Kami rose to follow her son and join her fallen father... only to get struck across the head by Udul-Lit and fall back down again.

"Mama!" Mirow jumped up now, only to be attacked by two of Udul-Lit's males, a third pointing a disruptor at Ptera to prevent her from rising as well.

Pain shot through Kami's head once more, as Sreen began wailing in her arms. She instinctively wrapped her arms around the infant, even as she looked over at her Papa, her beloved Ppaa now cruelly cut down before their eyes... and her son, who now turned to face the Ferasans, tiny claws bared as he adopted a fighting pose and roared in fury at them.

The Pridemaster just chuckled at the response... but then growled, "Counselor... for the sake of the rest of your family... call him back to your side... AND SILENCE THAT CRIPPLED LITTLE FREAK BEFORE I MAKE A MEAL OF IT!"

* * * * *

In the Kaijushima's Command Centre, Lieutenant Commander Aris Tshal, Retired, was hunched over the station beside the younger, Active Service Lieutenant Mori, reaching out to the other's display. "You need to reroute the channel sequence so it isn't traced back to this site-"

"I know what I'm doing," Mori snapped, quickly adding, "Sir!"

Bneea stood in the background, a civilian and not technically-minded, but still intoning, "Just have it ready! Esek will be-"

The doors to the Centre parted, Hrelle striding in, clad in black Militia armour that even sheathed his tail, wearing a heavy-looking equipment vest with numerous guns and devices of various sizes and types attached to the front and back, and his Kaetini sword strapped to his side. He carried a helmet in his gloved hands, and grunted to himself as he adjusted the plating. "I can see why the Sabrecats prefers Stringbeans like Jhess. Are you ready?"