Surefoot 65: Lone Cat and Cub

Sasha looked around her once more, seeking Agent Nenjo in order to coordinate the search for Dad and Sreen.

But Nenjo hadn't accompanied them down here.

*

In another section of the facility, Lieutenant Commander Aris Tshal, former Second Engineer on the USS Calpurnia, and resurfaced from retirement following the Ferasan Occupation, was engaged in instructing other retired and active service Starfleet personnel in the operations, when Nenjo entered. "Lieutenant Commander..."

Tshal straightened up, his assistant Lt Mori rising from his seat as she approached. "Well? Did you make it to the house in time? We've been monitoring Ferasan transmissions-"

She straightened up, the sable-furred female looking at each of them in turn. "We're back, with injuries among the civilians. And without Captain Hrelle or his infant daughter. Their capture... and eventual execution... is almost certain."

The males looked aghast at the news, Tshal sputtering, "We- We have to do something-"

"We will: we'll continue to monitor the Ferasan communications, and continue without the Captain, as he would have wanted it." Nenjo straightened up. "I'm assuming command of the Resistance efforts on Cait, with immediate effect."

*

Port of Sekuro, Southern Mnara Province:

It was later in the evening when Hrelle had seen the lights of the city, and began slowing down; the powerboat was far faster than he could have expected, its hull coated in a near-frictionless substance that cut down on resistance to an incredible minimum, practically lifting them up off the surface of the water. This, and the powerful engines, had served them well.

But as they drew closer, and more air vehicles began appearing on his scanners, he knew they had to get to ground, and soon. He bypassed the quays, where the larger fishing ships of the Free Fleet and the pleasure cruisers were berthed, and headed straight for the adjacent beach.

Beside him, Sreen had awakened, mewling with hunger. Hrelle had already checked for suitable onboard food, finding only water and biscuits; he had packed what he could, shucking off some of his armour and saving the more flexible pieces to make a protective cub harness. "I know, Princess, but we have to get settled and maybe get more appropriate grub for you." He purred against her. "I'll take care of you."

As they drew up to the beach, Hrelle took the helm once more, ignoring the Shallow Level alerts as he speeded up, letting the powerboat slide up out of the water and onto the thin, pebbled, empty beach. Sreen made a noise as they came to a bumpy, noisy halt.

Hrelle moved quickly; the radio traffic on Jem'Hadar channels in the area had increased. He secured Sreen in her harness to his chest, picked up a shoulder bag full of provisions... and strapped his sword beneath it, before venturing outside into the dark.

The beach was empty at that time of night, the miniscule waves lapping at the wet sands behind him, and birds circled overhead, scavenging for food dropped by locals during the day, or washed up from high tide. Hrelle's boots crunched the sand and pebbles beneath them as he raced up to the quay that separated the beach from the rest of the city, dipping under the thick wooden planks as Jem'Hadar ships flew overhead once more, lower this time, the thunder of the engines drowning out Sreen's protesting roars.

He grunted. They definitely tracked them here.

He headed under the pier and found access into the narrow, winding alleys separating the buildings of Sekuro. It was late, but it was still lively, with many bars, clubs, taverns and other facilities open, mostly for the sailors and fisherfolk in, enjoying themselves before another hard run out on the Free Seas the next morning, collecting schools of sleekfish, kydrae, scybdils and guthiks.

The scents, sights and sounds took him back, far back, to his childhood on the other side of Cait, in the Northern Province of R'Trerah, working on his Papa's boat. It was much colder, of course, more sparsely populated... but many of the same scents he detected now still lured him back into the depths of his memory.

So long ago. So very long ago.

He found a small grocery store to purchase a few essentials for Sreen, paying with anonymous credits from a card with a false identity, before asking for directions to nearby accommodations.

These led him to a dark tavern of wooden and chequered-tile floors, brass fittings and high smoky ornate plastered ceilings, where males and females filled the spaces near partitioned booths or lined the brass and wooden bar, while unseen towards the rear, two males belted out a ballad on the frettercast and skiffer. The air was filled with the scents of alcohol, cigars and fried foods.

The place went almost silent as he entered with Sreen.

Then the din returned as he ignored them and approached the bar, catching the attention of one of the Barkeeps, a scrawny, bistre-furred male smelling of sweat and stains and unwashed clothes, who frowned at Sreen... in particular, the metallic strands of her exoframe. "You in the right place, mate?"

Hrelle let a protective paw curl around his daughter's head. "I am if you've got a room for the night for us."

The Barkeep looked up at him now. "We're not a crèche, Old Cat."

"Don't need you to be, Bubulah. They'll have our autocar fixed in the morning, and then we can get home to Hsova, and this little Howler's mother can clout me properly for not getting the vehicle maintained more thoroughly beforehand." He handed over the card. "Whatever the price, add twenty percent on it for your troubles."

The other male accepted it, smiling brightly at Hrelle's offer, as he quickly ran the card through his reader before Hrelle potentially changed his mind. "Anything you say, and welcome to the Admiral Benbow Inn, Mister..." He paused to check the identity on the reader. "Hattori Hanzō. I'm Syras, Marner Syras! Anything you or your darling little cub need during your stay, just ask! Hospitality is our byword at the Benbow!" He grabbed a card key from a nearby shelf and rushed around from behind the bar. "Here, follow me!" He reached for Hrelle's bag. "Shall I take this for you?"

Hrelle tightened his hold on the bag. "No thanks, just lead the way, so I can settle the Little Howler down. It's been a long day."

Syras was a chatterbox as he led them up a narrow, steep stairs that eventually opened up to view the bar below. "How about all this Ferasan business, eh? Not seen many of them around here, don't know what they would want with us anyway, not this far away from all the high-born cats up north in M'Mirl and Mrestir. No, things move at their own pace here in Sekuro. Lived here all my life, wouldn't want to be anywhere else." He led them further to the back of the building, which was quieter, and a room in the rear, into which he escorted them, his tail swishing enthusiastically. "Here we go, the best room in the house!"

Hrelle glanced around: it was small, basic at best, with a tiny window that led to nowhere, and Hrelle could well believe that this was their best... but beggars couldn't be choosers. "Thank you, it'll be fine."

Syras set the keycard down on the small round wooden table. "Would you like some grub? Maybe a basket of battered kydra rings? Some beer? We have Löbrau on tap."

Hrelle's stomach grumbled in agreement; it had been ages since he had last had fresh kydra rings. "That'd be great, thanks."

Syras held out his arms expansively as he grinned and moved to the door. "Hospitality is our byword at the Benbow!"

Hrelle closed the door after him and locked it, focusing on Sreen, who needed changing. Fortunately he had obtained washable diapers and other helpful goods at the store, and set her down on the bed, removing her exoframe and undressing her to clean her up. "I know, I know, it's not what either of us are used to. But just think of it as a Grand Adventure, eh?"

His daughter lay helplessly there, her Neurodystraxic condition more obvious now without the assistance of her exoframe, but she stared up at him with her bright honey eyes, babbling, "Dubbada Doo Do Da!"

Once she was cleaned and dressed again, he forwent refitting her exoframe to prepare some cub formula, fixing the teat into her muzzle and holding the bottle as she greedily sucked away, while he sat on the edge of the bed, the exhaustion and stress of the last twelve hours quickly catching up with him. But he hummed to Sreen, wiping formula from her muzzle when she was done. "Well, you're a greedy little cub. You obviously get your appetite from your Mama."

Once she was sorted, he lifted up the bag and set it beside the table, sitting down and removing the contents he scavenged from the powerboat, focusing on the communicator. He had to find out what he could about the others, and to let them know about his daughter and himself, and more importantly, how they could all get together again.

He started, reaching for his phaser as the door handle turned, failing to open with the lock he had set. He covered the weapons with a blanket and moved to the door. "Who is it?"

"It's Mr Syras, Mr Hanzō! I brought your beer and kydra, as promised!"

Hrelle tensed as he unlocked the door and half-opened it, confirming the barkeep was there, alone, with a wicker basket of freshly-cooked battered kydra rings and a mug of amber froth-topped liquid. He accepted the offerings. "Thanks."

Syras smiled. "I'll check on you in a wee while if you need anything else."

"No need, thank you, we're going to sleep very, very soon, and then be up and gone early."

"Of course, of course, enjoy your meal and your stay! And remember: Hospitality-"

"I know the rest, Mr Syras. Good night." He closed and locked the door again, taking the food and drink to the table and continuing his work on the communicator, ignoring his mouth watering at the scents.

"Papa!" Sreen said from the bed. "Shis! Shis!"

He smiled; she was remarkably vocal and linguistic for her age, as he ate quickly, answering her between mouthfuls of food. "No, not shuris, Princess, kydra. It's a Caitian squid, lovely when it's fresh and the rings cut from the tentacles deep-fried in buttermilk batter. Don't ask for shuris when you're in a seafarers' town, they'll toss you into the water."

"Shis! Me shis! Now!"

He smiled, wiping his muzzle on his sleeve. "It's a little too much for your palate, Princess. I'll have to force myself to eat all this myself." He completed the assembly, checked the time, rechecked the readings, and then took a quick drink of the beer as he made his call.

An unfamiliar male's voice responded. "'The sun is shining'."

"'But the ice is slippery'," Hrelle replied with the expected code phrase, counting the seconds before he knew he had to break the signal. "Any messages for Fat Cat?"

"Yes: 'The Pack made it home, safe and well, missing you and Little Kitten.' Any replies?"

Hrelle breathed in. "Fat Cat and Little Kitten are in Sekuro, safe and well, missing all of you, too. Sekuro too risky for pickup, hoping to ride the rails in the morning to Pakui and the Aerodrome. More at the next appointed time. Fat Cat out." He ended the call, before accessing the Cynet for the maglev schedules; there were routes from here eastward to Pakui Province, and the desert towns, one of the stops being the Skycats Aerodrome; with the show closed following the Occupation, Captain Biggles could easily rendezvous with them there.

Then he rechecked his weapons: phaser, plasma pistol, knife, and of course his sword. He sniffed himself; he could do with a shower-

"Mama," Sreen demanded. "Mama!"

He rose, stripping out of his clothes to prepare for a shower but not before he returned to the bed, dropping his cub's exoframe into the open bag to ensure he didn't damage it, before lying down and settling the infant on top of him, purring to her and murmuring, "I know, Princess. I wish we were with Mama, too... and Misha and Sasha, and Grandpas Bneea and Mi'Tree..." He stared up at the ceiling. "And T'Varik and C'Rash, and Doc Masterson and Eydiir and Kit and Giles and everyone else still on the Surefoot too..."

As she settled down, calmed by his scent and proximity, he felt fatigue rising up through him, as if from the cheap mattress beneath him. "I miss being out there, Princess. Miss sitting on the Bridge, being in command, knowing what my ship and crew were capable of doing." He smiled wistfully. "And we were capable of miracles. Not me, I just guide people into being the amazing people they are. I love them. Love them all."

His voice dropped to a whisper. "I feel lost here, now. This is our planet, our people, I know I have to do what I can to save us... but I'd give anything to pass over all this responsibility to some genuine authority, and take some orders for a change." He sighed now. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart. I'm..."

He stopped as Sreen snored to herself on his furry chest.

He smiled, pulling a blanket over them both as best he could. The light was still on, and he still needed a shower, but he wasn't prepared to risk waking his daughter. He could feel the fatigue reaching his head, his eyes...

*

Sasha strode into the Operations Centre, frowning at the sight of Nenjo directing Tshal and Mori and several other newly-recruited Starfleet retirees and active personnel. "What's going on? Is it Dad? Have you heard from him?"

The coal-furred female looked to her. "Your grandfather Bneea left a coded message with the Kaetini's Exchange. There was no response as yet."

Sasha glanced around. "Then what's going on?"

"We're organising a strike on the Capitol Building. We have Sabrecats recovered from their injuries at Agana Mount, the Skycats can pilot a ship-"

She was turning away, but Sasha reached out and grabbed Nenjo by the elbow, turning the Caitian back as she demanded, "On whose authority?"

The Mother's Claws Agent reared up, her tail twitching behind her as she shook off the human's grip. "Mine. In Captain Hrelle's absence, I am the next logical choice to take command, as the Caitian government's only official representative here."

"Bullshit! Dad always designated Kami to be in charge here in his absence."

"Yes, when he intended, rather naively in my opinion, to make this place a refuge instead of a base of operations," Nenjo countered, addressing the others in the room as much as she was Sasha. "I have determined that not to be a viable course of action anymore."

Sasha stepped forward, her face taut. "That's not your call. We're gonna focus on getting my father and sister back safe." She looked past her, moving to the males. "Mr Tshal, Mr Mori, I want an analysis of the Ferasan communications traffic, we'll need all the intelligence we can get-"

Nenjo grabbed her now. "Lieutenant, we understand that you're worried about your family, but we have to prioritise the needs of our people-"

"Let go of me."

Nenjo tightened her hold.

"Let go of me," Sasha repeated coldly, baring her teeth. "Or I'll feed you to the dinosaurs up top."

Nenjo bristled, baring her teeth back. "Oh, I doubt that, human. You don't know who trained-"

More swiftly than anyone expected, Sasha dropped and twisted, flinging the Caitian female over her shoulder. Nenjo immediately sprung back up, claws bared, launching herself at Sasha-

Until Mori stepped in. "No-"

Nenjo caught him across the snout and forearm with her claws, sending him backwards as she tackled Sasha, the two of them rolling on the floor, kicking, punching and biting.

Tshal grabbed Nenjo from behind and dragged her off of Sasha, his larger frame affording him some defence against her speed and agility. "Get a hold of yourself, both of you!"

Kami stormed into the scene and roared, ending the altercation.

Sasha helped herself back to her feet, her face and hands stinging with pain from the claw marks Nenjo left her. "Kam-"

Kami raised a paw to cut her off, looking at the others, fury etched into her expression. "We will not fight each other! We have an enemy already, far more deserving of our anger!" She turned to Nenjo. "The Federation Charter, which Cait signed when we joined over a century ago, adjures Starfleet to take command in any disaster situation on a member world, in the absence of official authority; what's happened to our world certainly qualifies as that. You hold no official authority, and have no right to try and take over, and I remain the senior ranking officer still on active duty."

Nenjo shook Tshal's hold off of her, seeking to retain some level of autonomy."With respect, Counselor, your role onboard the Surefoot hardly qualifies you to take command of anything outside of a group therapy session."

"Then you're not as informed as you think you are, Agent Nenjo, or you'd know of my Command and Bridge Officer qualifications and experience as well. And I am the daughter of Ma'Sala Shall, your former leader; I've learned much from her." Then she turned to face the others, raising her voice again. "If anyone else here has a problem with my being in command... now's the time to say so!"

No one said anything.

Kami calmed down -- a little -- as she faced Tshal and Mori once more. "For now, we will focus on locating and rescuing Captain Hrelle. Not because he is my husband and has our daughter with him, but because he has greater tactical experience than any of us, combined." Now she looked at Mori, noting the scratches on his snout. "Do you need to excuse yourself to get those wounds seen to, Lieutenant?"

The young male straightened up. "No, Ma'am. I'll take care of it later."

"Good. Contact the Exchange for an update." As he complied, Kami looked back at Sasha. "Get your vessel re-armed and ready to fly at a moment's notice. Mr Tshal: Captain Hrelle mentioned the installation of sensor and transporter inhibitors around the island to prevent the enemy detecting and beaming in. Has that been completed?"

The older male responded to her commanding demeanour. "The industrial replicators here have managed 90% of the required number so far, Ma'am, and will be done in the next hour, but we need bodies to plant them-"

She waved to the new arrivals. "You have them; this takes priority over training on our support systems. I want it done within the hour."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Counselor!" Mori rose from his station and removed his earpiece. "The Exchange received a response from the Captain! They made it to Sekuro, it's too dangerous to get picked up there, they're hoping to get the maglev to Pakui and the Skycats Aerodrome in the morning!"

Sasha watched the tension lessen in Kami's stance. "Thank you, Mr Mori... and if it helps, everyone here may address me by my Starfleet rank: 'Commander'. Sasha, be ready to fly out to Pakui within the hour."

"Counselor- I mean, Commander," Nenjo interrupted, sounding less contentious now. "As a human, and a human whose image has been broadcast around the world, Lieutenant Hrelle will hardly blend in. I should go."

Sasha reacted to that, until Kami responded to Nenjo with, "Captain Hrelle helped free the Sabrecats in Agana Mount with the help of one of your holosuits to make him appear as a Ferasan; she can use one. And she'll go with Captain Biggleshen or one of his Skycats; they know the Pakui territory, and they can assist in flying the Tailless."

"I have flight experience-"

Nenjo's further protests were cut off by a raised finger from Kami. "You will not be going with her. You two have been figuratively at each other's throats since you met... and now, tonight, that blossomed into reality." She drew closer, ensuring she had the agent's full attention. "And if you ever attack any of our people again, you can go fight the Ferasans on your own. Prepare a holosuit for Sasha, and then continue the search for the Deep Keep, and keep me informed of your progress."