Surefoot 68: Three... Two... One...

Mreia forced her way blindly through the crowds, her senses assaulted by the sea of bodies around her, their scents and sounds of yelling and chanting and blaring noisemakers and even attempts at protest songs, some more aggressive than others, but all aimed in the direction of the Ferasans at the southern end of the Plaza. Most were students, but they had been joined by older people, similarly incensed by the Occupation and driven to protest.

Mreia didn't care anymore. All she wanted was her son. But what could she do? The numbers here made it almost imposs-

The banners! She recognised the ones that Shau's University friends had been making in the last couple of days since they had been hiding on campus! She pushed aside cubs and snaked her way closer to the group, her ears and eyes focused on finding- "SHAU!"

The young male turned, startled into almost dropping the banner pole he was holding. "Mom? What are you doing here?"

Relief at finding her son was rapidly eclipsed by anger at his actions, and she grabbed his arm, barely giving him the chance to pass his pole to a friend, snarling over the surrounding din. "I'm going to smack the fur off your hide for this!"

"Mom! I've got to do this!"

"No, you've got to do what I say and come back to-"

The rest of her response was lost, as a long, loud, continuous klaxon, from speakers mounted high up around the Plaza. It made the hundreds of protestors stop their chanting, their singing, and look up and around, stunned.

Mreia tightened her hold on Shau as she looked around. "Is that- is that part of the protest?"

"No," he murmured, confused.

Rockets arced almost lazily up from the borders, converging and detonating over the centre of the Plaza and making the crowds, including Mreia and Shau, duck instinctively, all looking up to see, not fireworks, but billows of thick, slate-grey smoke, that began to drift down.

"Mom? What's going on?" Shau asked.

She didn't know. She just knew they had to get away. She pulled on his arm to follow as she led them back, noting how most of the others around them were still stunned or confused about what to do... but some began to follow the two of them, as if suspecting Mreia knew something they didn't.

She went for the nearest boulevard to make their way back to the campus, slowing down as the crowds ahead of them increased, mulling, shouting- what were they doing?

Then she saw the flare of a force field, an energy wall stretched across the boulevard, keeping the protestors penned within.

Confusion turned to fear and anger, and then panic. Crowds surged forward, as if they could bring down the force field by sheer numbers.

They couldn't. Mreia heard the cries of help from those at the front, being crushed to death, unable to escape.

She turned around and shoved aside those trying to join the others at the force field, not knowing or caring about the futility of it all. The smoke was drifting down, cutting off visibility.

Chaos was in season now.

And from the north side of the Plaza, a collective roar sounded over the shouts and cries. And the rapid pounding of boots on pavement, like an avalanche.

Mreia's heart was racing as she sought an alternative escape route. She stepped around overturned benches and trash cans and discarded banners and terrified protestors now huddled together, not knowing to do anything else but crouch down and hope not to be noticed.

Mother and son stumbled and staggered across the park, Mreia trying to work out where they were, and where the next potential exit could be... suspecting even as she did this, that it would be blocked too. All of the ways out would be blocked. And that was why the Ferasans offered no resistance to the protestors congregating here today. They wanted them here.

The protestors were scrambling in and out of the smoke, appearing like ghosts before disappearing again.

And then a black stampede emerged from the north, as Ferasan males, many bare chested but marked with stripes of war paint, swarmed out, moving like predators, attacking any Caitians who caught their attention or interest, swiping them down with their claws. Assaulting them. Raping them. Killing them.

Screams filled the air, even over the roars of the killers.

"Mom!" Shau screamed.

She turned, seeing what he saw: a half-dozen or more Ferasan males charging towards them. She tugged on her son's arm to have him follow her, hoping to get to the trees in the gardened sections, to find some cover, to-

She was tackled, going down hard and feeling her head ring. She struggled, as paws grabbed her limbs and twisted her around but keeping her pinned down as three or four of them surrounded her, their scents thick with zeal and bloodlust.

Shau's cry made her look to one side, seeing more Ferasans swiping and shoving her smaller, younger son between them like a game, before smacking him fully to the pavement.

Above her, one male sneered, "She's an old one- hardly worth opening up!"

"Not like that anyway," another joked.

They began ripping at her clothes.

Mreia struggled in raw panic, her own claws out but unable to get any purchase, to deliver any blows to her attackers, the scent of lust now thick from them as they continued to undress her. She roared and cursed. They laughed at her efforts, at her integrity and value as a sentient being.

She looked across at Shau again... seeing them pinning him down now on the pavement, one Ferasan pressing his knee hard against her son's neck, his whole weight upon him. Shau bucked, writhed futilely. It was obvious that he couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe!

"N-no-" she pleaded, even as she felt one of her attackers move above her. "P-Please- you'll kill him-"

The Ferasan above her laughed as he opened his trousers. "Think of it as a mercy killing, so he doesn't have to see us taking turns with his little Momm-"

The rest of his taunt was lost with a sudden whine that cut through the air, before a bright blue bolt of plasma struck the head of the Ferasan holding onto her right arm, instantly superheating and evaporating the contents of his skull along the way as it exited through the other side.

The Ferasans still around her barely had time to react, before another bolt from out of the smoke struck the one holding her left arm.

The one directly above her seemed totally confused about what was happening.

Mreia took advantage of that, and swiped up at his muzzle drawing blood.

He stumbled backwards, turning to locate the source of the plasma bolts- only to be propelled back as a third bolt struck him in the chest, setting his fur on fire as he dropped, already dead before he struck the pavement.

Mreia twisted around, staying low, focusing on the Ferasans still slowly killing Shau, though now they were reacting to their fallen comrades. Mreia began to rise to rescue her son-

Before Jhess raced into view, plasma rifle in his grip, moving as fast as Mreia had ever seen him do, swinging out with the butt of his rifle and savagely catching one Ferasan across the skull while still shooting another who was rising to attack him.

Mreia crawled to Shau, who was gasping and coughing as he caught his breath again, and clung to him as she watched her ex-husband, clad in black paramilitary gear, fight back. He had dropped his rifle, but he didn't need it now, dodging blows and delivering bone-breaking kicks and punches, making his opponents scream and bleed and fall to pieces as he tore through them.

And all her years of embracing a nonviolent stance, in hating Jhess' decision to join the military and train to be a killer, had evaporated in an instant of knowing what they had tried to do to her, what they had tried to do to her beloved cub.

And she clung to Shau and roared out, "KILL THEM, JHESS! KILL THEM!"

And he did.

Three more Ferasans, aware of the carnage here, raced up from behind.

"Jhess! Behind you!"

When he didn't seem to hear her, she picked up his rifle, without knowing a thing about them, aimed and pressed on the trigger, almost dropping it from the recoil as a blue bolt struck one of the Ferasans on his left shoulder- removing most of the limb from below where the bolt struck, sending the Ferasan tumbling over himself, looking almost comically as if his own dismembered limb somehow knocked him down.

She froze in place, not believing what she had just done.

Jhess had turned, registering her actions but focused on the others continuing on towards him, as he extended his claws and ripped open one Ferasan's belly, then slashed another's throat, before turning back to his family, crouching beside them -- and carefully removing the rifle from her paws -- while looking them over. "Are you two okay? Are you hurt?"

Mreia was breathed hard now, looking down at her torn clothes, but shook her head, as Shau copied her.

Jhess helped them both up, affixing them with gold badges and then tapping onto himself. And then again, clearly expecting some response.

He glanced around. "Transporter tag's aren't working, might be interference from the Rat-Tails' transporter remotes." He looked back at her, lifting up the rifle again. "I'll get us all out of here safely. I promise."

"I believe you," she declared, as fervently and genuinely as anything she had ever said in her life.

*

TWELVE MINUTES, NINE SECONDS... SEVEN...

Mithram Valley:

Father and Daughter stood at the edge of the gulley, not straying too far from the Tailless, but without making any attempt to get to it, instead focused on standing and watching as the largest Ferasan Hrelle had ever seen in his life descend from the opposite end and approach.

"He's a big bastard, isn't it?" Sasha muttered. "Built like a brick starbase."

"He's not carrying any firearms I can see," Hrelle whispered. "Certainly not the rifle he was obviously using before- wait, has he got a sword too?"

"Looks like it, You know, we can make a break for my ship-"

"No, Lieutenant," the Ferasan called out, still ten metres away but quickly closing the distance. "My associates have their weapons trained on you, and your lover on the slope." At five metres he stopped, regarding them both, breathing in deeply. "This is a genuine honour to finally meet both of you, to scent you and look into your eyes."

"The feeling isn't mutual," Hrelle informed him. "You really came all this way just to face us in personal combat? You're not the first Rat-Tail to seek me out, Bubulah, to want to win a name and glory from your people for facing me-"

"I have a name already," Valtiri informed him. "One I gave myself. And I haven't an iota of interest in what my people might have to offer me; they have given me nothing of value that I haven't earned or taken for myself. I may have been sent here by the Patriarch on this assignment, but ultimately... it is for my own self-fulfilment."

"I don't suppose you've considered another outlet?" Sasha quipped. "Like tennis, maybe, or ballroom dancing, or sticking your head in a antimatter chamber-" She stopped, frowning at him. "That scabbard-" She looked to her father. "The hilt of his sword- it's Caitian!"

Hrelle frowned too, pointing at Valtiri. "That's not a Ferasan sword."

Valtiri raised his muzzle. "No. It's not." He grasped the hilt and drew out the thin black blade, raising it up to the midday light. "None of my people could forge something as beautiful as this."

"That's Kaetini!" Hrelle accused angrily, his tail snapping. "Where did you get it?"

Their opponent twirled and rotated the sword in his grip almost experimentally, admiringly. "This was the sword of Gamal Ashen, of Sekuro."

Sasha paled. "Ashen? I know him! You stole his sword?"

"I earned it, Lieutenant."

"He killed him for it," Hrelle clarified darkly, his paw moving to the hilt of his own sword. "Like he killed the other Kaetini on the slope."

"No, Captain," the Hunter Prime declared. "The ones on the slope were mere obstacles to be cleared. Gamal Ashen was a worthy opponent, an honour for me to despatch." He pointed the sword in their direction, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "You two will be a much greater honour."

Hrelle and Sasha drew their own swords simultaneously, Hrelle declaring, "You're not worthy of that. Drop it now and surrender, and I swear you'll be treated with mercy."

Valtiri smiled. "That's not what your daughter is thinking. She wants to take my head off. 'The only good Ferasan is a dead one'. Am I right, cub?"

Sasha flinched, quickly recovering and tightening her grip on her own sword. "Enough of this bullshit! Dad?"

Hrelle narrowed his gaze on Valtiri and replied, in Old Caitian, "Circle Eclipse."

Father and Daughter parted, each raising their sword and roaring as they attacked Valtiri on either side of him, Hrelle aiming high, Sasha aiming low.

The Ferasan seemed to anticipate the classic Kaetini combat move, dodging Hrelle's swipe while knocking Sasha's sword away with a loud clash, even as he returned to thrust at Hrelle, making the other male dodge.

"Storm Wave!" Sasha suggested, still using Old Caitian.

Hrelle grunted with approval, the pair of them charging, swiping high and low, alternating in an attempt to drive Valtiri back, make him falter, if only for a second.

But the huge figure refused to falter, refused to be budged. He moved with astonishing fluidity for such a behemoth, his scent thick with what Hrelle could only describe as... elation. He really did live for this.

What was more, he appeared as proficient with a blade as any Ferasan he had ever encountered before, able to anticipate and counter their moves -- and wielding a blade as strong as theirs. "Mist Snake!"

He charged ahead, roaring, with a savage series of strikes, keeping Valtiri as off-balance as he could, while Sasha moved around, taking advantage to-

Something big and fast swooped down from the sky, making Hrelle flinch -- but not his opponent -- as it descended onto Sasha. It was the big bird, the bird Hrelle had seen before, with golden white-tipped feathers and a hook-shaped beak... but it hissed like no bird on Cait ever did as it brought Sasha down, its huge talons trying to claw at her face.

The distraction almost cost Hrelle his life, as Valtiri took advantage and drew blood along Hrelle's left bicep, cutting through the padding of his Starfleet jacket like it wasn't there. Hrelle cursed, forcing down the pain as he went on the defensive, unable to help his daughter.

Suddenly there was a horrible screech, and both Hrelle and Valtiri paused and turned, to see the huge bird spurt black blood as Sasha stabbed it with her sword, drawing the blade up to nearly bisect it, sending entrails and feathers flying. Sasha half-staggered to her feet, covered in the bird's blood, her clawed face looking horrified, both from the attack, and from her own response to it.

"Nyx..." Valtiri mourned, and Hrelle heard the anguish in the Ferasan's voice.

Then swiftly, more swiftly than Hrelle expected, Valtiri reached for something on his bandana with his free paw, drawing out a crescent-shaped throwing blade and flinging it with a roar in Sasha's direction.

The throwing blade struck her firmly in the chest, the impact sending her sprawling to the grass, losing her grip on her sword, before lying still. Lifeless.

"SASHA!" Hrelle cried out, rage suffusing him as he stampeded towards Valtiri, the Ferasan turning and meeting him with equal rage, their blades clashing and reflecting the sunlight as they struck, again and again and again, Hrelle trying to drive his opponent to one side so he could get to Sasha and see if she was still alive-

"She still lives, Captain," Valtiri suddenly declared hoarsely, his breath ragged. "But not- Not for long, once- once I get to her-"

Hrelle hissed through clenched teeth, his confusion at how the Ferasan knew what he was thinking overwhelmed by pain and fury. "Murdering bastard-"

"She killed my friend!"

"Fuck your friend! AND FUCK YOU!"

He arced back and brought his sword down with all his might.

Valtiri met him with equal, opposite force.

The Arakanium blades couldn't break, and couldn't cut through each other.

But they could protest at this treatment, and they did, the earsplitting noise of the impact eclipsed by the feedback delivered through the hilts to the combatants like electricity, making them lose their respective grips on their weapons and drop to the grass.

Hrelle didn't waste time trying to retrieve his sword, leaping at the Ferasan, claws and teeth bared, landing his full weight onto Valtiri, his opponent falling backwards and howling as his tail broke under him.

Valtiri snarled and punched Hrelle repeatedly in the side of his head, even as Hrelle dug his claws into the Ferasan's throat, trying to get under the armoured collar. His opponent's musk, his breath, was hot and pungent.

Then Valtiri used his size and strength to throw Hrelle off, before scrambling to get to one of the fallen swords.

Hrelle was back up and tackling him again, driving his boot hard into Valtiri's side. He had to finish him off, and get Sasha into the Tailless to revive her-

"NO!" Valtiri declared, kicking high, catching Hrelle in the gut. "She dies, today! As do you! I will not be defeated!"

Hrelle's insides twisted, and he nearly threw up, but regained his stance, his head still spinning from the earlier blows to his skull. "You're- You're- telepath-"

Valtiri spat out teeth and blood, the latter staining his muzzle and clothes. "You're- You're an open book to me, Captain- And that book's final chapter will be written today- in this valley-"

He struck out again.

Gouging Hrelle's left eye.

*

FOUR MINUTES, THIRTY SECONDS, TWENTY-NINE, TWENTY-EIGHT...

Ferasan Occupational Headquarters, Capitol, First City, M'Mirl Province:

Nusum-Adu drew up to his father again, who had been sitting at a table, ripping into a freshly-killed shuris pup, tossing the flesh-stripped bones to the floor. "Master Governor, Pridemaster Tasak-Sil reports your... present for the Caitians is primed and ready. He just needs to know where to deliver it."

Melem-Adu nodded, wiping his muzzle with his sleeve. "Good, good."

His son paused, glanced at Welros as if seeking support, but the Vorta remained as bland and enigmatic as ever. So he turned back to his father. "So... are you finally going to enlighten us?"

Melem-Adu leaned back, belched loudly, and stretched out his arms languidly as he rose back to his feet and looked around him. "Yes. Yes, I am."

Welros raised an eyebrow. "One hopes it will match the anticipation you have raiased. Based on your past performances, that's not entirely guaranteed, is it?"

The Master Governor glared at him, his tail twitching... before relaxing and finally laughing softly. "You know, Vorta, ever since you joined us here as the Dominion's representative, you have been a persistent, incurable itch on my balls. You have constantly belittled my efforts here in front of my son and my subordinates, and I have lost track of the number of times I've thought of forgetting our potential alliance with the Dominion and just gutting you from belly to brisket."

Welros grinned, apparently unoffended. "Indeed?"

"Yes. But now I will be gracious and admit to my own failings.

I assumed that with the elimination of the Caitian Militia and Planetary Navy, that the natural predilection among the passive civilian sheep for compliance and cooperation would keep them in line. Clearly it has not turned out that way, and the Caitians' insurrectionist acts have cost us dearly, both on a collective and a personal level. And any doubts I might have had on that were wiped away with their failed missile attack on us.