Surefoot 65: Lone Cat and Cub

Shall Clanlands, Mnara Province, Planet Cait - One Minute Ago:

Hrelle followed the screams of his baby girl into the Clanhouse, but responded to Sasha's message. "NO! Get out of here! I'll get Sreen!"

"No, Dad! We can do it!"

The roar of enemy fighters outside made the very walls shake. "Go! Get the others back to base! I'll save her! GO!"

*

In the Tailless, Sasha stared ahead, her body taut as a wire.

Then she entered new commands, even as disruptor blasts outside sent geysers of boiling seawater erupting around them. "Activating Prowl, going into Stealth Mode and taking an evasive course back to Kaijushima."

"SASHA!" Kami snapped.

She turned to face her, wishing she could tell her just about anything else than what she had to do.... but it still came out far more easily than she had expected. "If we go back for them, we'll be blown to pieces. Dad will get Sreen and himself out. If anyone can do it, he can."

Kami stared back in naked disbelief.

But didn't argue further, knowing the truth of it, for which Sasha was grateful.

Goddammit, Dad, prove me right...

*

"No, Captain."

Hrelle stopped at the foot of the Grand Staircase, where a one-eyed, one-sabretoothed, grey-furred Ferasan stood... holding a screaming Sreen by her ankles over the banister. "No, you won't save this little grotesque!"

Hrelle dropped his sword, holding up his paws. "No! Please, don't hurt her! I beg of you-"

"YOU BEG?" the Ferasan bellowed over the thunder of the aircraft outside. "You butchered my Pride, my sons, my brothers, my cousins and nephews, valiant warriors all, and you expect mercy now?

No! I just wanted you here in time to watch me tear her limb from limb-"

*

The rest of his threat was lost, as the Ferasan and Jem'Hadar attack ships swept down in an impromptu formation, disruptor bolts striking the Shall Clanhouse.

And destroying it utterly...

*

Now:

Udul-Lit lost his hold on Sreen as the wall blew out behind him.

She dropped.

Hrelle raced to her, even as he felt the overpressure of the disruptor bolts from the attack outside sending the walls and ceiling down upon them. Get this right, Esek, get this right-

He caught his daughter in both hands, dropping and shielding her with his armoured body as he rolled under the reinforced space beneath the grand staircase, his ears pounding as the house came down around them, enveloping them in dust and debris. He pressed his precious, fragile cub against him, daring the Universe to drop a whole mountain on him if it wanted. It wouldn't matter.

He would protect her, no matter what.

*

In the Tailless, Sasha finished programming the circuitous route back to the Island, hoping that between it and the Prowl cloak, they wouldn't be detected or pursued, then unbuckled herself from the seat, glancing at Nenjo. "Keep your nose peeled."

The Mother's Claws Agent nodded, never looking way from the co-pilot's station, as Sasha rose and approached. "What happened to Grandpa?"

Ptera was kneeling beside the elderly male, struggling to stay balanced on one knee with her pregnant belly, even with her husband Mirow physically supporting her. "A disruptor blast to the chest struck Mi'Tree's cardiac regulator, and it took the brunt of the energy, but sent him into shock." She looked over at Misha, who sat in her mother's lap, whimpering. "How is he, Mama Kam?"

Kami was holding him carefully. "I think his left ulna's cracked."

Sasha nodded. "Take him into my cabin, I have a first aid kit under the bed -- the red box, ignore the blue box, definitely don't open the blue box, nothing there for cubs to see -- while we take care of Grandpa here. Mirow, lift him up under his arms, I'll take his legs, carry him to the back and put him on the table in there."

"He'll need more than a first aid kit," Ptera pointed out.

Raising her voice, Sasha ordered, "Computer: Activate Holographic Hospital Mode." She moved to Mi'Tree's ankles, adjusting her stance to get a good hold. "The Aft Section is a basic holosuite, it can be a medibay, workshop, lab, other things. Never had a chance to use it until now, but it'll hopefully produce whatever you need."

"When will we get to the Island?" Mirow asked, lifting up Mi'Tree at his end.

Sasha grunted; Damn, Grandpa, you gotta lose some weight... "Safely? Four hours."

"What about Esek and Sreen?" Kami asked, holding her son in her arms, her gaze on Sasha unwavering.

"They'll survive. And we have Emergency communication plans in place." She motioned for Mirow to get moving before the question was pressed again.

*

Hrelle's ears continued to ring, but he felt Sreen mewl against his muzzle. He kept still, feeling the weight of debris still on top of him, and sniffed carefully, ignoring the dust and smoke to focus on his daughter, making sure he didn't smell any of her blood.

Then he shifted, twisting around to continue protecting the infant as he pushed aside beams and bits of wall-

Sreen hissed, as a broken, clawed paw with a Ferasan scent shot out, attempting to grasp his throat.

Hrelle staggered back, trying to evade the Pridemaster, who was bloodied, battered, but still alive, snarling, "K-K-Killllll you-"

He reached for Sreen now.

Hrelle roared, caught the Ferasan's forearm and twisted it away, snapping it, before Hrelle delivered a powerhouse kick to his opponent's midsection, sending him backwards over debris... and impaling him rudely on a narrow, twisted pipe, the metal sticking out of the Ferasan's gut as the body spasmed, already dead but still seemingly arguing about it...

Then Hrelle heard the whine of approaching aircraft in the blackened evening sky, maybe on another strafing run, maybe now scanning for survivors.

Either way, they had to leave, now.

Around them, the ruins of the Shall Clanhouse smouldered and burned, the history and possessions of generations lost. But that didn't matter now.

Along the way out he saw and grasped the hilt of his Kaetini sword, sticking out of the rubble, and dropped down onto the rear path, ignoring the many, many bodies, some still burning from his earlier assault, racing through what was left of the trees as he made his way to the beach, and the Clan docks. Overhead, aircraft were slowing down, hovering, scanning, and he hoped the cover and his armour's defences were helping to scatter his readings, if not Sreen's.

She was so quiet. Please be okay, Princess. Please, please be okay.

Black waters lapped intimately at white sands, and his boots pounded on wooden slats as he bypassed the yacht for the powerboat: a black, spearhead-shaped vessel with an armoured shell topping it. He hopped into it, taking a moment to adjust once more to the undulant floor beneath his boots, before settling Sreen down into a nestled area of pillows, undressing her and checking her for any injuries, before quickly and quietly untethering the boat and activating the onboard systems. He had been onboard once before, when they first arrived before the Occupation, and had even taken her out with Misha for a trip around the Bay.

This was one of Ma'Sala's vessels. He knew what it was capable of.

Then he went back and brought Sreen up front, finding a bright orange smart floatation scarf, activating it and letting it wrap around her while self-inflating, before securing her into the seat beside him, his voice aiming to be as soft and reassuring as he could be... under the circumstances. "Alright, my Warrior Princess, we're going on a little sea trip. It'll be fast, it'll be furious... and, I won't lie, it'll be more a little bit risky. But I promise you, we will get back to your Mama and Sasha and Misha and everyone else before you know it. Okay?"

Sreen looked up at him... before reaching out with her stubby paw... and smacking his snout. "Papa! Now!"

He smiled, bent down and rubbed the side of his muzzle against hers. "Quite right. Enough speechifying." He returned to his seat, checking the sensors, watching the Ferasan and Jem'Hadar ships circling overhead. He observed the patterns, waiting for when they were the farthest away, before starting up the engines and guiding the boat away from the dock, closing up the canopy entirely to minimise their energy signature, hoping that the enemy would focus on some air- or land-based escape.

The night sensors in the cockpit opened up an artificial vista ahead of him, of the Bay, as he planned where to go next.

The options were limited: he couldn't take them across the Sea of Denara straight to the Island, it was too far away, and he wouldn't risk drawing attention to it, and heading back into the Gulf to one of the northern coastal towns was only slightly less insane. He ran some navigational calculations. "Hmmm... Princess, how would you like to visit the Port of Sekuro?"

Sreen looked to him, making expectant noises.

He continued. "It's a major fishing port on the Southern tip of the Mnara Province, for the Free Fishing Fleet. We can blend in there, make surreptitious contact with the others, arrange for a pickup from Sasha, or the Skycats, or even take the maglev from there." He reached out and booped her snout. "Shall we go?"

Sreen made a cheery sound, holding out her stubby paws. "Gabadoo! Gabadee!"

He smiled back. "Quite right."

*

Capitol Building, First City, M'Mirl Province:

Melem-Adu, Master Governor of Cait, stood wrapped in the burgundy silk sheet he had taken with him when he had been summoned from his bedchambers, rather than dress again. It was the middle of the night, it had been a long, long day, ending in the satisfying sight of the Shall Clandland house being blown to pieces. Yes, some of them had apparently escaped in a flyer, but he could always blame the failure on that loathsome peon Udul-Lit and his tail-chasing Thousand Scars Pride. Melem-Adu had been happy to retire to his bed with a couple of Caitian females and some vodka.

But now he stood once more in the Command Centre, the floor cold beneath his bare feet... "ThirdSon, you had best make the reason for interrupting my sleep phenomenally good."

ThirdSon was young, skinny, ash-furred and still too inexperienced to have earned himself a name, and he stank of anxiousness as he stood there. "Father, we- we-"

"What is that?" Melem-Adu pointed up at one of the screens before him: a night-filtered image dominated by a sole figure moving quickly around, cutting a swathe through dozens of others with a bladed weapon. At first he expected it to be one of his own people, dealing with some insurrection somewhere on this misbegotten world... and then he understood.

He stabbed again at the screen. "That's at the Shall property tonight, isn't it?"

"Father, I didn't call you here-"

"ANSWER ME!"

ThirdSon flinched. "Y-Yes, Father, it's the Shall Clanlands, from earlier this evening. We were studying the sensor recordings made by our ships in order to glean some intelligence- but with respect, that wasn't-"

Melem-Adu waved off his son's words and stepped forward, watching the scene unfold, remembering the general events but not seeming them so clearly and distinctly until now. It was one figure, one Caitian, attacking all those Ferasans. Not some unit, some squadron of Caitian Militia.

One Caitian.

And that one Caitian was... not falling.

His mouth went dry as he watched this lone Caitian face a swarm of Ferasans, the Thousand Scars Pride, racing up to him... before a geyser of fire shot forth from the Caitian, engulfing the attacking Ferasans, sending them scrambling and falling and dying, with those who tried to escape being chased by the Caitian's merciless fire.

"Great Father..." he murmured. Louder now, he demanded, "That's Hrelle, is it not?"

"We- We don't think so, Father. Based on communications we intercepted and decrypted, we believe the one on the ground was Captain Hrelle, and his human daughter, the so-called Tailless Cub, was in the flyer."

The older male lowered his arm, watching as the image of Hrelle entered his residence. "Why is he not escaping?"

"The, ah, transmissions, and our intelligence, suggest a Caitian had been left behind in the house: Sreen Hrelle, one of Captain Hrelle's other cubs. An infant... and apparently physically disabled."

Melem-Adu looked to his own cub in disbelief. "He would risk his freedom, his life, for some malformed freak that should have been dashed to the rocks at birth?" He shook his head, watching as the house erupted under disruptor fire from above, collapsing in on itself... and then he checked the timecodes. "The flyer..."

"Yes, Father, we- we lost track of it on the way to Hsova- We have ships running search patterns"

"Shut up, whelp!" He pointed at the screen again, seeing a figure emerge and head out. "Look! Hrelle survived! He's on his own, making his escape, independently!"

"Y-Yes, Father, we believe there was a boat involved, but the flyer seemed to be a higher priority-"

"It's not! Divert all forces to track him and his little mutant down! And I want an All Media Bulletin sent out! Offer a thousand bars of gold-pressed latinum to any Caitian with information on their whereabouts! Where's Hap-Tek? He should be back from the Kaetini Temple by now! I want him on this!"

ThirdSon stared fearfully at him. "That's... That's why I called for you, Father, not about Captain Hrelle. Hap-Tek's cruiser... it's unresponsive to our transmissions..."

Melem-Adu bristled. "What?"

"We- We lost track of it, over the Sea of Rhun, twenty minutes ago. We are continuing to try and contact them-"

The Pridemaster strode up and grasped his youngest son by the leather padding on his uniform. "It will be the Caitians' doing! Find my beloved son! I want all available vessels on the search!"

"Is there a problem, Master Governor?"

He turned, knowing the voice, if not expecting it at this time of night. Could he get through a day without hearing that simpering tone? "Vorta! I- I am surprised to find you here and now."

Weyos, the Dominion's representative to the Ferasan Occupation, was dressed as blandly as ever in his usual attire, and, as always, flanked by two Jem'Hadar bodyguards. The beige-coloured humanoid held out his spindly arms in a generous gesture. "I am at your service night and day. May one ask what has occurred?"

Melem-Adu grunted. You should now, you probably secretly monitor our activities, don't you, you water-willed wisp? "My son Hap-Tek was returning to us after investigating the Kaetini Temple, when we lost contact with his cruiser. I am organising a search party now."

Weyos made a simpering, sympathetic expression. "Well, I certainly hope it all turns out for the best for you, Master Governor... having already lost one son since starting this ambitious enterprise. May we offer our assistance in any way?"

The Ferasan almost refused the offer, out of fear of it being a sign of weakness to the Dominion... and out of anger, for Weyos reminding him of his having to kill his other son because of his failures only days before.

On the other paw, they did possess superior sensors and weapons. "Yes, Vorta, as a matter of fact, you may be of some small assistance. The Starfleet Captain, Hrelle, made his way alone from the Shall Clanlands with his infant daughter by boat, while the other terrorists escaped by flyer. While we would certainly be more than capable of searching for him, I am certainly willing to bring our allies in on this facet of the operations."

Weyos smiled. "Well, we are not technically allies as yet, but I am certain our Jem'Hadar forces would welcome the diversion of a Hunt." His grin widened. "They certainly couldn't do a poorer job of it that your forces have so far, eh?" He chuckled.

Melem-Adu bared his teeth, in the approximation of a humanoid grin. I will eat you alive before this is over, you bland, lipless wonder. I will consume every anaemic part of you... but your face. That, I will leave intact while I shit out your remains upon it... "Thank you, Vorta. One of my subordinates will supply the relevant data." He glanced at one of the Jem'Hadar flanking Weyos; they may have been taciturn, drug-addicted clone drones, but at least they didn't make Melem-Adu want to rip their throats out.

*

Kaijushima Island:

The occupants of the Tailless stepped out of the turbolift onto the sublevel containing the Medical Centre, Sasha and Mirow manipulating an antigrav gurney carrying Mi'Tree, closely followed by Kami, cradling Misha, his arm wrapped in a stasis bar to help complete the healing she began during the flight, and a pregnant Ptera, Mirow's wife, bringing up the rear.

A middle-aged, ginger-furred female Caitian in a medical smock came out of the Centre in response to the commotion. "What the Seven Hells is this?"

"86-year-old male," Ptera called ahead. "History of cardiac trouble, peripheral disruptor damage to his parasternum! The cub needs further protoplaser treatment for a broken arm!"

The female turned and rushed inside ahead of the new arrivals towards an unoccupied biobed, pointing to it. "Get the fat old cat up on here!"

"Are you a doctor?" Sasha demanded, working with Mirow to transfer their grandfather onto the biobed, the readings overhead coming to life with his presence.

"Well, I'm not a pole dancer, Monkey Girl." She drew an equipment table closer.

Sasha stepped in front of her... one hand on the handle of the blaster on her hip. "Identify yourself. Now."

The female remained unintimidated. "Doctor T'Ana, CMO, USS Cerritos. That enough identity for you, Kong?" She walked around Sasha to set a dermal regenerator on Mi'Tree's chest and activate it, waving a paw in the direction of the far end of the room. "Put the cub over there, that skinny spotted Sabrecat that's running around here said he was a paediatrician, he can deal with him."

"Jhess has recovered?" Kami asked, taking Misha to the nearest bed.

Before anyone can answer, a noise of pain from Ptera turned heads, and Mirow rushed to his wife's side. "What's wrong?"

She tried to shake off his touch, but she couldn't hide the grimace of pain. "It's nothing- I can help Misha-"

"Get on the next biobed," Sasha ordered, ensuring Mirow helped his wife up. "You've done enough, now let's get you and your cub checked out." Sasha read the biobed readings over Ptera. "Lowered surface temperature, rapid pulse, heightened adrenaline...think it's just the comedown from shock."

T'Ana joined them, shooing Sasha aside and looking up as well. "You're right; nice diagnosis, get yourself a banana."

"Enough of the ape references, Doc, I've heard them all before."

"Okay, okay, don't fling your filth at me." She prepared a hypospray, looking at the pregnant female. "5 cc's of improvoline should settle you down, Little Mother, without harming the cub."

Ptera nodded silently in agreement, clutching Mirow's paw tightly as she accepted the shot.

Sasha nodded to her bond-brother and sister and returned to Mi'Tree, giving his paw a squeeze. "Get back on your feet soon, Grandpa; you're not done thrilling cubs with your tales just yet." Then she moved to Kami and Misha. "I'll go look for Jhess and Grandpa Bneea, and then get started on the search for Dad and Sreen." She bent down and rubbed the side of her face against Misha's muzzle, whispering, "You keep an eye on Mama, okay, Little Brother?"

The cub, partly sedated from Sasha's first aid kit on the Tailless, nodded silently.

Just then, Jhess and Bneea entered, the former moving to Misha, the latter hugging Kami before seeing Mi'Tree. "No..."

Kami rested a paw on his arm reassuringly before letting him continue to his husband. "He'll recover..."