Surefoot 66: By Fire and Water

Hap-Tek, second son to Melem-Adu of the Black Pelt Pride, lifted his head, albeit with some difficulty, his eyes sealed shut with swollen flesh wounds, one sabretooth broken, his fur scraped and burned and scalded in many places. He was a pitiful shadow of his former imperious self... but he still retained a sliver of arrogance, even in the remnants of his voice as he snarled, "N-No, Caitian... y-your people are weak... they will c-cringe and scrape and d-do anything but stand up to us..."

"Well, you know all about cringing, don't you? You sang like a bird under the right persuasion. I understand your older brother was killed by your father for betraying the cause. What will he do to you?"

Hap-Tek bared what remained of his teeth. "M-My brother... cowed in public before a human female. M-My father will... will see what was done to break me... he will t-take me back into the f-fold..."

"Maybe," Nvell conceded.

A ragged laugh escaped his muzzle. "I- I will recover... and I will return, and skin you alive..."

The older female regarded him, and then replied simply, "No. You won't..."

* * * * *

Kaijushima Island:

"Well?" Kami Hrelle asked.

Lt Mori worked the controls at his station. "Growing reports of impromptu walkouts from workplaces, shutdowns of mass transit networks, demonstrations and protests outside of local government offices and Constabulary stations. Ferasan traffic on the subject is increasing, Commander."

Kami nodded. "It's a start."

"It's a start of more trouble." Nearby, Agent Nenjo, last surviving operative of the Caitian Secret Service, rose to her feet, her ebon tail twitching in agitation behind her. "We've already experienced shortages of food and other essentials in stores throughout Cait following the Occupation, transport disruptions, and the disappearance of thousands of people, many in key positions of support and authority. Open civil disobedience is going to make a bad situation worse."

Kami bit back her initial retort, recognising how much of her anxiety and anger was driven by the current situation involving her missing husband and daughter, and now Sasha and the others who went to Sekuro to find them. Kami was in charge here until their return -- and they will all return, she assured herself -- and people were depending on her... and not just those who sought refuge on the Island. "That's a risk we have to take... which is why we have included practical suggestions on what people can do to commits acts of civil disobedience, without adversely affecting the infrastructure of our society or put themselves at unnecessary risk."

Nenjo folded her arms. "It still won't be enough. They will force their hand, up the stakes."

The older female stared back. Nenjo had been overly critical from the very beginning, no doubt driven by the personal losses she suffered at the hands of the Ferasans. Kami understood that, having lost her mother Ma'Sala at the very start, out in space. Oh Mama, I wish you were here to guide me, if not take over completely. "You're right, Agent. So... if you were the Enemy, what would you do?"

The question seemed to catch the coal-furred female by surprise, and her arms dropped again. "Well... they would now have to expect a more open resistance to their plans from the population. They'll have to coordinate efforts, put more troops on the ground, maybe take over key industries that they need to complete their work. They might even bring in civilian Ferasans to undertake support operations we're not doing anymore."

"And we can monitor their communications traffic and coordinate strategic countermeasures?"

Nenjo eyed her. "We're limited by our need to restrict our own communications and not be detected by them. If they ever pinpoint us-"

"Then it would be a tremendous advantage to find a way to keep our communications from being detected by the Enemy networks. Work on that."

The younger female blinked. "Excuse me? 'Work on that'? You think it's as simple as that, Counselor?"

"It's 'Commander Hrelle' in here, Agent Nenjo, not 'Counselor'. And no, I don't think it's as simple as that; if it was, it would have been done a long time ago. But my time on the Surefoot has taught me that the best advantage to have is the one your opponent doesn't know you have. Take what resources you need, work on a plan and come back to me with it for approval."

"And what about the search for the Deep Keep base? Or launching an actual attack on the Enemy itself?"

"We're stretched enough as it is; we have enough to keep ourselves busy." Kami stared at her a moment longer, before adding, "This is the part where you go off and prove you're not all roar and no bite."

Nenjo stared back defiantly... but only for a second, and then turned away.

So did Kami, her head pounding- and nearly ran into her father Bneea. "Sorry, Papa."

He peered at her through his spectacles, before slipping an arm around her. "Come along, it's late, you need rest."

She tried to pull away. "I can't go- Esek- Sreen- Sasha and the others-"

He tightened his hold on her. "You'll be alerted if word comes from any of them. In the meantime, you should do what Ma'Sala used to call The Walk."

Despite her anxiety, she was curious enough to ask, "Excuse me?"

He smiled, and seemed to recall her exact words, even imitating her gravelly voice, "'Sometimes, you gotta walk around your ship, tail high, and let your people catch your most confident scent, and remind them you're in charge and you'll get them out of whatever shit you find yourselves in. And then along the way, you work out how to do that'." He squeezed his paw on her upper arm. "Come on, we'll get you something to eat, and we might just catch your son telling the other cubs in the Recreation Bay about the fierce battle he fought with a pack of Ferasans in our home."

She shuddered, holding onto her father. "Don't, please. I can still see him, standing up to them, the way he did to the Jem'Hadar who boarded the Surefoot. Not realising either time how much danger he was in."

"He's brave. It's in his blood."

"He's just turned six. I want him to reach adulthood -- Seven Hells, I want him to reach puberty -- without shedding any more of that blood."

* * * * *

Port of Sekuro, Mnara Province:

Sasha Hrelle sat on the bare floor of the tiny apartment, next to the only window, one that looked out on the darkened square below, and peered out from behind the curtain. It was late in the evening, the newly-imposed curfew having cleared the streets of the southern city of all but Jem'Hadar, Ferasans and members of the Caitian Constabulary press-ganged into assisting them in the search for her father and sister... and now, herself and her friends Jhess and Biggles who had come looking for them, before getting separated, out of contact with each other or the Island.

She shivered, and she knew it was more from the comedown from the stimulants she had taken before they had arrived than it was the hot, humid weather in this part of Cait. She was exhausted, but still felt coiled, especially when she picked up the occasional sounds of disruptor fire from other parts of the city.

Where in the Seven Hells are you, Dad? Are you lying dead in some back alley somewhere, Sreen crying beside you, abandoned, unreachable-

She reached for her phaser and sword as she heard noises outside the door, before watching the door handle turn and the door open, a silhouette filling the frame before quickly entering and shutting it again. "What are you doing over there? You haven't touched your food."

Sasha glanced back out the window, recognising her saviour, the Constable who had grabbed her in the Market before the Jem'Hadar had cornered and captured her, and brought her here. "I thought you were going to bring my friends here."

He grunted as he moved to the table. "No, you tried to convince me to do that, and I explained -- more than once -- that it wouldn't be safe for anyone to move before morning. But I've seen them, talked to them, they're fine, and are asking about you." He was a middle-aged male, stocky, with what looked in the dim light to be mustard-coloured fur and a blunt snout. He lifted up the plate in one paw and brought it over to her, waving it under her nose. "Come on. Unless humans don't eat seafood?"

"Can't speak for all humans, but there's little that this human doesn't eat." Grudgingly she accepted the plate, sniffing; they were called guthiks, some sort of scallops, fried in buttery sauce flavoured with a garlic-like herb. It had grown cold, but as she took a curled piece up with her fingers and ate, she quickened and started on the rest of them with gusto. "Thanks. You shouldn't have gone to any trouble."

"I didn't. My parents run the restaurant at the other end of the Square. They always have a takeaway ready for me to bring back to my apartment at the end of every shift." He began removing his Constabulary jacket in the darkness. "Do you know where your father and sister might be hiding? We can then get you all out of the city."

Sasha set aside the now-emptied plate and glanced out the window again. "No, like I said before, we're all out of contact with each other. I can only hope he's been as lucky as my friends and I." She looked back at him. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you help me?"

The Constable shrugged. "Well... don't tell anyone else, but that message that went out around the world today from your grandfather was... inspirational. Even for a soul as cynical as mine. I don't know anything about you, Lieutenant, but I know the Resistance needs you."

She nodded gratefully. "Well then, thanks for getting over your cynical side. I need to get a message back to our Headquarters. I discarded my communicator to keep from being tracked by it, but I can still pass on a message via landline."

"There's a secure line at our Station; give me the details and I'll pass on the message. Do you want to have a lie down now? You can use my bed, I'll stay up and keep watch. Give me your weapons, I'll keep them here."

She shook her head, wincing at the throbbing inside her skull, no doubt the after-effects of the last of her stimulants that Jhess had warned her about. But something else was bothering her. Something about... Grandpa Mi'Tree. Something-

He said he knew nothing about her, but still knew that Mi'Tree was her grandfather.

She looked up again, her heart and head pounding. "My friends- you said you saw them?"

"Yes, why?"

"One of them is female, pregnant- she shouldn't have come out with us, and I'm worried about her condition."

The Constable grunted again. "She looked fine when I saw her."

Sasha reached for her phaser, fumbling, her limbs tingling and unable to work properly, as he rushed up, kicking her weapons away from her, even as she slipped into a drugged unconsciousness, his last words echoing dully in her head. "No, no, Ape. You won't need these now..."

* * * * *

Fishing Vessel Highsun, Free Seas:

Captain Esek Hrelle's first full day onboard the seagoing ship reminded him how much he had grown soft sitting on his rear onboard a starship, no matter the personal dangers he infrequently faced. No matter how artificially active he kept himself, that was still nothing compared to the arduous nature of being a member of a fishing crew on the Motherworld.

It didn't help that he had stayed up late the night before, trying to settle Sreen and trying to fix his communicator -- neither with any real success, leaving daughter and father cranky. And in Hrelle's case, he was also suffused with guilt, guilt at leaving his wife and the mother of their cub worried sick for not knowing they were alive and well.

Captain Sallah had him up early, leaving Sreen with his more agreeable sister Neshama, while putting Hrelle through his paces, testing his knowledge and ability in various roles around the Highsun. Hrelle expected it, being an unknown, and he had still doubted Hrelle's claims of having grown up among fisherfolk.

But Hrelle was still determined to prove himself... if only to keep the other male from turning around and heading back, or alerting the authorities back at port.

And Hrelle found himself reacquainting with masts and ropes, pulleys and sails, with preparing the nets and climbing the masts to watch the squalls on the rolling blue waves, using his eyes to confirm what the ship's underwater scanners, one of the few concessions to modern technology, had already picked up. And he amazed himself with how easily he fell back into what his Papa had taught him almost half a century ago: "SLEEKFISH! SLEEKFISH AHOY!"

He descended and joined the rest of the crew, swinging out the trawling nets to the starboard side as the Highsun banked in the direction of the school... and someone started a shanty:

"It's a damn tough life full of toil and strife

We ship crews undergo.

And you don't give a damn when the day is done

How hard the winds did blow.

For we're homeward bound to the Clanland ground

With a good ship, taut and free

And we don't give a damn when we drink our fill

In the hills of Tau'Maree.

Heading down to Tau'Maree, me lads

Rolling down to Tau'Maree

We're homeward bound to the Clanland ground

Heading down to Tau'Maree!"

It was a good haul, and he worked just as hard as the rest of them in getting them down into the hold and on ice, before starting on the cleanup afterwards. He couldn't recall feeling so physically fatigued in such a long time.

Or hungry, and when he was reunited once more with Sreen (his daughter screwing up her snout and blowing a raspberry at the smell of the fish on him) for the evening meal of curried scybdils, he devoured his share and was up for seconds, while Sreen sat beside him in a chair Neshama had apparently modified for her tiny frame, and had a pureed, non-spicy version of the curry. "Thank you for all you've done for her, Nesh. I hope she wasn't too much trouble."

The female, Captain Sallah's sister, came around the table to tickle under the infant's muzzle. "Trouble? She's better mannered and better company than any of you fetid fishbaits! And she has a lovely voice, singing and telling me stories."

Sreen, grasping her spoon in her stubby hand, responded to the attention with an enthusiastic, "Gabadoo! Eesh a mally!"

That triggered laughter among the crew, and one of the younger crewmembers to joke, "That's a better tale than Gershom told about those Giant Bluefishes he spotted!"

More laughter, as the Second Mate set down his fork, his fur bristling. "It's true! I saw them!" He looked to Hrelle. "On our last trip out! They were as big as Caitian adults, smooth dark blue and grey hides, with beaks for noses, dorsal fins and flat tails like scups, and they were leaping out of the water in formation as they followed us one morning, laughing to themselves!"

The others laughed again in reply, but Hrelle frowned in thought. "It sounds like you're describing dolphins."

That quieted them down, prompting Sallah to grumble, "What the fuck are dolphins- Owww!"

He hissed as Neshama smacked the back of his head when she passed him, pointing to Sreen. "There's a cub at the table, Chum Mouth!"

Sreen shook a reproving spoon at him for emphasis. "Bab Boi!"

As they settled down again, Hrelle smiled at the camaraderie, explaining further, "Dolphins -- well, Delphines are the preferred name -- are aquatic mammals originally from Earth. They're sentient, with incredible sonic echolocation abilities, and a sort of collective telepathy that transmits through water." He scooped up another spoonful. "I met one once, a Starfleet Counselor, who helped myself and my crew..."

His voice trailed away as he noticed everyone else at the table -- except for Sallah -- staring at him in open astonishment.

It took Gershom to break the moment. "You were in Starfleet, Mr Hanzō?"

Others took it up. "You had a crew?"

"You were in space?"

Hrelle breathed in, feeling Sallah's eyes on him, waiting for him to make the next move. He hadn't wanted to stir up trouble while onboard... but his night and day in the presence of these hard-working, honest, engaging people had augmented his respect for their character and the work they do.

He didn't want to lie to them. "I am in Starfleet. I captain a starship."

They looked to each other, one of the older crew now pointing out, "You- You said you grew up with the fisherfolk in R'Trerah!"

"I did," Hrelle confirmed. "I worked on my Papa's boat until I was seventeen, when I joined Starfleet Academy."

"You're a captain," Gershom echoed breathlessly, glancing at Sallah. "W-What are you doing onboard the Highsun?"

"He's working," Sallah snapped, gaining their attention once more as he rose to his feet. "Same as the rest of us. Mr Hanzō, would you mind accompanying me to my cabin? I'd like a word with you alone."

"Of course." He nuzzled against Sreen. "Be right back, Sweetheart."

"I'll come along," Neshama announced.

Sallah glared at his sister. "You're not welcome."

She sided up to Hrelle and slipped an arm around his as she guided him out of the common room. "And yet, I'm still coming... about the only time you'll hear a female say that."

* * * * *

Sallah barely contained his fury when he closed the door behind him and moved behind his desk. "I told you I wasn't interested in who you were or what you were doing on land, Mister Hanzō. I expected you to keep to that, and not fill my crew's heads with useless bilge."

"I was asked a question, Captain. I answered truthfully, because I've come to respect them enough to tell them the truth. And if they ask me the reason for being here, I'll tell them."

Neshama literally stepped between the two males, folding her arms and glancing between the two of them. "What's going on?" She focused on Hrelle. "Why are you here? Who are you, really?"

"It doesn't matter," Sallah snapped. "It's Groundpounder business."

"It's everyone's business!" Hrelle countered angrily at him, over Neshama's shoulder. "The Motherworld has been invaded, occupied! Hundreds of thousands have died already, and so many more are following!"

He looked to Neshama. "I'm Captain Esek Hrelle, of the Starfleet ambulance ship Surefoot. My family and I were on shore leave on Cait when the Ferasans and Jem'Hadar invaded, when they wiped out the Militia and the Planetary Navy.

Now I'm helping to organise the Resistance while trying to get my family to safety; in the course of this, my daughter and I ended up alone in Sekuro. I boarded the Highsun to get away from them, and to try to call to arrange a rendezvous out at sea." He looked between them. "You are aware of what's been happening to our Motherworld these last few weeks?"

"Well, of course," she replied archly. "But all of that's happening up north, in the big cities in Mrestir and M'Mirl."

"It's happening everywhere."

"Not onboard this ship," Sallah informed him defiantly. "You're not conscripting us into your fight."

Hrelle bit back his initial reply, forced himself to calm down before he responded. "I'm not trying to, Captain. I'm just trying to make contact with my people, who can come collect my daughter and I out on the Free Seas. The Enemy will never know you helped me." He frowned. "But I've had some problems with my communicator on our secure frequencies."

"Can our ship's radio help you?" Nashema suggested.

Sallah hissed at her. "Didn't I say we're not getting involved in his fight?"