Surefoot 69: We are Shanos Minor

"It sounds more like a contagion."

She didn't look at him as she replied, "Yes. It does."

*

At that moment, at the Shanos Major Aeroport, Mayor Des P'Rarash stood on the back of the pickup truck, the better to let him see what was going on around him and coordinate the efforts. He had a voice amplifier on paw, but as many of his detractors -- and allies -- noted, he was loud enough to be heard in R'Trerah. It was a holdover from his prior career as an operatic star, but it served him well today. "Get those medical kits onto the first flyer! No, don't let those volunteers onboard, not until they've been cleared with their hyronalin shots! Sh'esint, keep the media crew back, I don't want them getting in the way!"

The people moved with urgent efficiency, and P'Rarash indulged himself with civic pride. He, his people and his city, had keep relatively quiet, trying not to stir up trouble or attract attention since the Occupation began... even when the truth about the Ferasan activities had emerged, and the Enemy had increased their security measures. All rewards are within reach with enough patience, as his Mama used to tell him.

Today, however, patience was swept away. Shanos Minor had been the sister city to Shanos Major since their mutual founding, though they sat on separate continents and were separated by the Sea of C'Mau. It had been a friendly rivalry over the centuries, always competing in the arts, in sciences, even when their teams inevitably competed in the Rollerball Cup.

Today, their sister city had been destroyed, callously, brutally obliterated. But there had to be survivors. And nothing was going to stop Shanos Major from finding and helping them-

He stopped at the low swoop of the Ferasan shuttle overhead, making deliberate dives as if threatening to fire upon the large flyers readying to take off.

Concern grew among the Caitians as the shuttle landed, and P'Rarash's aide Sh'esint approached him. "Sir, perhaps we- we should-"

P'Rarash raised a paw to cut him off, glaring as the shuttle's bay doors rose and armed Ferasans poured out. He hopped off the back of the truck and parted the Caitians around him to approach the Enemy. His shame at not having stood up more visibly and vocally to these Rat-tails until now gnawed at him like an acute hunger. But as his Mama also used to tell him, There is always time to do right. He focused on the highest-ranking Ferasan drawing up, recognising him from past encounters. "Pridemaster Har-Bai, can I help you?"

The leader of the Blackcrest Pride sneered. "What do you think you're doing here, Mayor P'Rarash? All air traffic has been suspended!"

P'Rarash steeled himself, suppressing a shudder at the intimidating size, scent and sound of the Ferasan, letting his anger at what their people had done to their sister city galvanising him. "We're sending flyers to find and treat survivors at Shanos Minor. Please let us continue-"

Har-Bai guffawed, his sabreteeth gnashing against the sides of his muzzle. "Survivors? Are you delusional? We turned that mewling metropolis of whiney cubs to rubble and ash! Did you not watch the broadcast?"

P'Rarash bared his teeth, feeling the growing rage from his people behind him. A rage he shared, now that he stood face to face with one of those responsible. "Yes. We watched. We all watched; you made us watch. But there will almost certainly be survivors there. If not in the underground portions of the city, in the surrounding areas, and my experts tell me they will be in danger from radioactive fallout-"

He stopped talking when Har-Bai smacked him across the snout, the Ferasan grimacing in contempt. "If there are survivors, then a slow, painful death is a fate they deserve, for standing up to their betters. You and your city, in comparison, have been smart and compliant... up until now, at least. But I'm willing to forgive and forget if you-"

Now it was his turn to stop talking, as P'Rarash roared and launched himself onto the Pridemaster, his bulky frame and surprise attack compensating for the Ferasan's greater size and strength, as the Mayor of Shanos Major clamped his jaw around Har-Bai's throat and tore away flesh, ignoring the bitter taste of the blood, ignoring the cacophony of the mob of Caitians sweeping over him as they attacked the rest of the Ferasans, some falling from disruptor fire, others taking their place as they poured over the Pack, clawing and literally ripping them to pieces, as the air filled with the cry, "WE ARE SHANOS MINOR!"

*

In the Capitol Building's Operations Centre, Melem-Adu's nose wrinkled at the pungent smell of the cleaning fluids from the buckets of the mop-wielding female servants nearby as he entered, striding up to his son. "Well? Presumably you have good reason to interrupt my sleep?"

Nusum-Adu turned to him, obviously smelling the scents of the Caitian females forced to join his father in bed that night, but not commenting on it. "Yes. There are a growing number of violent incidents against our forces throughout Cait."

"Incidents?"

"Yes: random, impulsive attacks by civilians of all ages and sizes, using improvised weapons, or even just tooth and claw, occurring in both the major metropolitan centres and the smaller villages where we might have patrols. It's not an organised attack as far as the analysts can determine, though the Caitian Cynet's social media platform is being dominated by recordings made of these incidents as and when they occur."

"What?" He looked up at the main viewscreen, seeing a world map of Cait, and the many white dots appearing... everywhere. "You told me their protests were ebbing away after we destroyed Shanos Minor!"

"They did!" Nusum-Adu insisted, absently waving away the cleaners who were drawing closer with their mops and buckets. "But it's more like the shock of what they had witnessed is now beginning to wear off!"

"Oh dear," noted a familiar, simpering voice behind the Ferasans. "It seems the Caitians are not going to be as compliant now as you had hoped, Master Governor."

Melem-Adu spun in place, teeth bared as he faced Weylos, before storming towards him. "I have had it with you-"

Then he stopped -- not because of the Jem'Hadar soldiers flanking the Vorta and raising their weapons to the Ferasan, but because of the Caitian cleaners, lifting up their buckets and drenching Melem-Adu and his son with the sharp, flammable contents, as one of them drew out an igniter and flung it at the Ferasans, screaming, "WE ARE SHANOS MINOR!"

Fire engulfed the Master Governor and his son.

*

Hrelle stepped into the Command Bay of the Island Facility, looking up at several screens displaying images from around Cait: Captain Mrorr on the Deep Keep, Mistress Nvell from the Kaetini's current hidden base of operations; the computer-cloaked image of the leader of the cyberterrorist Syphers, who until now had been content to work strictly through Nvell or Nenjo; and Sasha and Biggles, still on the Tailless but almost at the Skycats' Aerodrome at Pakui.

Hrelle put on his best Command Face, leaving behind all lingering doubt and apprehension about his suitability for the role to lead their people, their planet, out of Occupation. The time for hesitation and uncertainty had passed.

He stood in the centre of the Bay, facing them, speaking as much to them as to his own people. "Thank you all for attending, and your continued efforts in this War. The news about Shanos Minor has struck all of us, and I promise you, we will mourn the dead, and attend to the living. But not now. If we do not act now, there will surely be more cities that will suffer the same fate.

Now, let me brief you on Operation: Uproar..."

*

T'Varik entered the Bridge and took her seat, having seen off Weynik and confirmed that all wounded, evacuees and prisoners had been transported to the Samaritan, and the usual clean-up operations on the Surefoot were commencing. She lifted up her PADD and continued her more mundane duties.

Beside her, Murphy glanced in her direction. "So... nothing to report?"

She never looked back. "Yes: please schedule a meeting with Crewman Dellaport on his next duty shift, to discuss comments he has been overhead making regarding certain non-human members of the crew. And remind Chief Sakai that the performance review for his Engineering crew are overdue-"

"I'm pretty sure you know I'm talking about what we're going to do regarding the Ferasans," he chided, offering a slight smile.

Now she looked at him. "I have no more information on that subject than anyone else onboard, Commander. All I can comfortably assure you is that the news we are all awaiting can arrive at any time."

"Sounds like it just an excuse for you and Weynik to get drunk together," C'Rash muttered form behind them.

T'Varik turned and looked over her shoulder at her spouse. "I do not get intoxicated, Lieutenant. You will know better than anyone else when I do-"

Then a signal from the Ops station made the adjacent Bellator respond. "There's a transmission from Admiral Tattok to the rest of the Fleet."

T'Varik turned around again, casting aside her attempts at lightening the mood. If the Admiral was broadcasting to the entire Fleet, and not just the Surefoot... "Onscreen, Bellator."

The starfield was replaced by the image of Tattok, his black beady eyes fixed ahead at the unseen crews under his command. "To the Captains and Crew of the Thirteenth Fleet: 147 years ago, the people and planet of Cait formally joined the United Federation of Planets. And since that time, we have been enriched by the Caitians' presence and participation, especially in Starfleet. Time and again, their reputation for cooperation, for perception, for tenacity and loyalty and love of family, has been proven.

Some months ago, their ancestral enemies the Ferasans took advantage of our current vulnerability to launch a hideous and brutal attack on Cait, conquering it for the purposes of using the Caitians as breeding stock to save themselves from extinction. And, to our shame, circumstances have prevented us from coming to their aid.

Until now.

As we pause in our continued battle in the Betazed Sector, I am leading a task force of Fleet vessels not undergoing repair to the Caitian Sector. In addition to my flagship the Triton, the following vessels will accompany us: the Ajax, the Essex, the Featherwind, the Minotaur, the Thunderbolt, the Redemption... and the Surefoot. Orders are being transmitted to each ship as I speak.

We leave with immediate effect. This atrocity in our own territory will no longer stand."

The transmission ended.

Cheers erupted on the Bridge.

T'Varik rose to her feet, allowing her crew to indulge... and illogically desiring to join in. Instead she waited for the celebration to die down before finally speaking up. "You heard the Admiral, Mr Arrington. Plot a course for the Caitian system.

Our family needs us..."

TO BE CONTINUED...