Surefoot 71: The End

Her trembling increased, until Jhess drew in and held her, confessing, "I never stopped loving you, you know."

"Neither did I." She clung to him fiercely, murmuring, "Come home. Please. Don't go back into space. Be my husband again. I know I have no right to ask, after all I've done to you, but-"

"Yes. Of course." He stroked her mane, purring reassuringly to her, tears of relief streaming from him.

*

The Kaetini had assembled once more, for only the second time in recent memory, at the Temple of T'Grerish-Nein in the jungles of Mrell Province, to honour the sacrifice of Mistress Nvell and those other warriors of their Order who had fallen during the Occupation, and to announce Nvell's successor.

Hrelle had come alone, after Sasha sent him a short message stating that she had changed her mind, and wouldn't accompany him. He appeared on behalf of both of them, delivering a speech giving his own account of his meetings with Mistress Nvell, and of some of those he had met who had died... though he found himself not going into too much detail about the Kaetini whom Valtiri had killed, given his own actions towards having him pardoned.

He let his speech get lost among the others. It was easy. Hrelle had heard many such speeches in the days since their victory, both in person and on broadcasts, all over the Motherworld.

The numbers had been gut-wrenching, heart-wrenching: in addition to the three million killed in Shanos Minor, another hundred thousand had died in the camps, and just as many in countless incidents with the Ferasans throughout the planet. So many more have been wounded, physically and psychologically.

And perhaps worse, the genetic tampering caused by the Ferasan experimentation could trigger a spike in incurable birth defects, including Neurodystraxia, Sreen's own disorder.

Will their people recover? He wanted to believe so. They wouldn't be the same as they were before, of course. But then he knew from personal experience that this was the nature of things.

He had returned to contact Sasha, only to find she wasn't answering. And attempts to track her down proved fruitless... and, per Nenjo, it was due to the stealth features of the Prowl unit on the Tailless. "She's getting any messages we're sending," she explained. "But it's up to her to show herself, and respond."

She responded at last, two fretful hours later, her onscreen image looking haggard... and drunk again. "What do you want?"

Hrelle started at her curt response as much as her appearance. "Drop your Prowl, and let us pilot you home remotely. Don't try piloting yourself."

"I'm fine."

He tightened his jaw. "No, you're not. You shouldn't be alone at this time. You need your family. We need you."

"It doesn't matter."

Now he faced her. "That's not you talking, that's your grief, your anger and trauma-"

She leaned into the viewscreen. "Yes. I know. Because that's what we are in the end: grief and anger and trauma. From the day we're born, it fills us up and binds itself to our bones."

"Sasha, please- your grandparents, your brother and sister, Kami and I want you back-"

"I'm not ready to come back. I'm not ready for Starfleet. I'm not ever gonna be ready for anything. This fucking Universe just throws shit at us, at all of us, all the fucking time. We fight, we don't fight. We kill, we don't kill. And for all we do, or want to do, in the end, it doesn't make a damn bit of difference. The Universe will do what it wants to us. Blind us. Brutalise us. Atomise us. Turn us into dust for others to step on-"

"Sasha, don't-"

"Go away, Dad." She ended the transmission.

He stared at the screen, but then looked to Nenjo. "Agent, I know you have a tremendous road ahead of you rebuilding the Mother's Claws, but-"

The female nodded sympathetically. "But I'll keep looking for Sasha, Sir. I promise."

*

Ma'Sala smelled the fear in the air as she beamed into the camp, startling several Caitian guards, at least until they recognised her, one of them drawing up, his tail twitching behind him with nervousness. "Fleet Captain- I mean, Madame First Minister- I mean-"

"At ease, Sergeant. Fleet Captain Mrorr put Lieutenant Commander Nelul in charge here. Where is she?"

The Sergeant pointed towards a group of buildings. "They've taken over the Ferasan Commander's former office there, but she's actually outside the perimeter fence, trying to arrange for soldiers to hunt some of the wild shurises, to supplement the limited rations Starfleet provided."

She nodded and looked around again. "I'm looking for a Ferasan male... he will have authorisation to move about-"

"Oh, him." He pointed in the opposite direction, towards a set of barracks. "Just follow the wailing."

"Wailing?"

The Sergeant smirked. "He's been telling them about Ferasa Prime. Poor little Rat-tails don't have a home to go to now. Let's cry an ocean for them to drown in, eh, Ma'am?"

Ma'Sala glowered at him, before turning and moving to the barracks... activating the recording unit on her uniform, still wondering why she was bothering. Around her, females and young cubs stepped away in fear. Perhaps it was her cybernetic parts. Or her reputation. Or maybe it was just her being Caitian.

As she continued her impromptu tour, it quickly became obvious that these were hardly warriors. The Ferasan Patriarchy barely allowed their females any education or training; they existed to breed and pleasure and care for the cubs. Perhaps some of the reaction she was getting was also the confusion of seeing a female in authority?

Finding Valtiri was easy enough, even without him being the only adult male in the area; he towered at least a head over everyone around him, appearing to try and console the frightened, confused crowd.

She wasn't that far away before he looked up and seemingly noticed her, and gently parted the crowd and bade them stay where they while he approached her.

Ma'Sala tensed. He was still strong, fast. He could attack her, away from anyone else, get his revenge for the destruction of-

No. His scent, his stance, his expression... none of it was threatening. He stopped a few paces from her. "Fleet Captain."

She reached into her jacket and produced a small black cylinder. "The reason you're not reading my mind right now is because of this telepathic inhibitor unit developed by the Mother's Claws."

He grunted. "The reason I'm not reading your mind right now, Madame, is because I haven't tried to do so."

She sneered. "I'm supposed to believe you?"

Valtiri folded his paws behind his back. "Does it matter? You have your device to protect you now, and I could tell you to switch it off and test me, but then you still wouldn't know if I was reading it."

"I know when you did, when we last met."

Now he nodded. "Given the enormity of what I learned from you, I could hardly hide my reaction at the time."

Her face tightened. "You admit it?"

He nodded. "Yes; please accept my apologies. The news of my homeworld's destruction shook my self-control, and the terrible weight of your thoughts did the rest."

She stepped closer, lowering her voice to a whisper "Why?"

"Why what?"

She bared her teeth... surreptitiously extending a weapon from her sleeve. She could kill him quickly, easily with it, without anything being connected to her. Indeed, it was one of the reasons she had come here, to complete the cover-up of the origin and nature of the Seven Hells Weapon. "Why did you lie? About it having been caused by your own people? Answer me."

Valtiri breathed in deeply as he seemed to consider the question. "You had no choice in what you did; if it was a choice between wiping out your enemies, innocents and all, or allowing them to resume their assault upon your people and your planet, then it was really no choice at all.

And as well as that... despite that, despite your hatred for us and what we have done to Cait and its people, you still felt sorrow for the act. Better that those few in the know about the artificial nature of the cataclysm believe it an act on our part, than one involving you; as much as many might see the wisdom of your decision, it is still a burden to carry."

"And what will buy your continued silence?"

"It is not for sale."

She stared hard, before taking yet another step, as if daring him to give in to his instincts and finally lash out. She was close enough to ensure his death, and could always say later he attacked her first. "My kin-son trusts you. My daughter trusts you. I should still kill you."

"If you wish."

"You want to die?"

Sadness seemed to deflate him now. "My world is gone. My people face extinction. We will undoubtedly face our final days on some barren rock in the Galactic Wilderness, as pariahs. Perhaps we deserve such a fate, after all we've done." He glanced, where some cubs played. "Or at least, what some of us have done."

Ma'Sala looked to them too, but turned away quickly. "Be thankful for whatever barren rock you'll be given; it will be a most generous gift. You drove us away from our world a thousand years ago, have attacked us repeatedly since... and now... the things you've done... the horrors inflicted upon us... you don't know-"

She stopped when she saw the tears in his eyes.

And Ma'Sala saw that, contrary to her accusation, he did know.

She turned and departed.

*

"Kam, I'm worried for her."

They sat on a blanket with a picnic basket beside them, in the shades of trees near the section of the Clanlands that touched upon the beach, where they could see the construction machines from Ptera's company working like hive insects to rebuild the Clanhouse... and also keep an eye on Misha, down near the waters with his schoolcub friends, playing and splashing about as if nothing had ever happened this year. "I know. I am too. She'll remain relieved of duty, can stay here with the rest of us."

He cradled Sreen in his arms, doting on her, but now looked at his wife. "The rest of us?"

A rueful expression crossed her features. "This is not how I wanted to spring this on you, Esek, but with Tattok ready to announce the return to the Fleet... I want to take a leave of absence and remain behind. With the cubs."

He frowned. "What? Why?"

Her paw dipped into the bone-white sand beside her, sculpting mandala patterns. "The psychological trauma our people are experiencing is more profound and widespread than you might imagine: self-harm, suicide, even incidents of rage-filled murder has jumped sharply, and that's not even taking into account those who had suffered in the camps. I've been asked to continue to coordinate the overall medical response.

And then there's the family. I have to help Mama recover, physically and mentally, and counsel her on her new responsibilities as a politician... and the events of this year has reminded me that my mother and fathers won't be around forever. They deserve more time with myself, and their grandcubs.

Just as their grandcubs deserve more time with them, and deserve to have an ordinary, planetbound life for a while. Look how Misha is enjoying himself with the other cubs his age over there! Besides, Jhess is planning to leave his contract with us as our Llalare and stay on Cait, to rebuild his relationship with his family, and to help out here, both as a Militia operative and a cub psychologist."

Hrelle frowned; he supposed he couldn't begrudge the young male that, after all he had gone through. His frown disappeared as Sreen stirred awake, sensing the change in his mood. He stroked under her chin and purred to soothe her. "You make perfect sense."

"That doesn't mean you have to like it. Or that you have to agree to it."

"Oh? You mean I actually have a say in this?"

Kami tilted her head at him. "Don't be like that, Esek; you know better. You'll miss us terribly. We'll miss you terribly. But for all our prior arguments in favour of having our family onboard ship, with the War heating up, and now the Breen joining the Dominion, can we really still justify it?"

He didn't answer. He didn't have to.

His combadge chirped, and Nenjo reported, "Captain, just to let you know, we've received an Intelligence report: Sasha has just been spotted in Stonebay, in the Market District."

He blinked, looking to Kami but answering, "Excellent work, Agent, my thanks. Hrelle out." As the channel closed he made a move to get up.

Kami held up a paw to stop him. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Me? I'm going to drag her non-furry ass back here to explain where in the Seven Hells she's been all this time!"

"No you're not. Sit down again."

He did so -- reluctantly -- as she continued. "She's coming to us. She's almost ready." At his expression, she elaborated, "She has the entire planet in her reach. Do you think it a coincidence that she chose the town nearest the Clanlands to appear in? Or that she wouldn't know she would be seen there and have it reported back to us?"

He harrumphed. "Doesn't it get tiring, being right all the time?"

She reached into the basket and produced a chilled bottle of water. "It's exhausting."

*

Several kilometres down the road, in the local community of Stonebay, there sat an open-air restaurant on the main avenue running through the town, where patrons could sit on the veranda and dine while watching shoppers wind their way past the market stalls.

Sasha sat alone at a corner table where the breeze was at its most generous, while the owner of the establishment personally brought her a plate of deep-fried shuris pieces and waffles slathered with tavaberry syrup. "Thanks, Roscoe. You want my credit print now?"

The tall, portly, chocolate-furred male chuckled. "Your money's no good here, Lieutenant. It never will be, not for you or your father, not after all you both have done. I'll get you a cold beer to wash it down."

She looked up as he departed, wanting to argue that with him. Not about the beer -- the beer sounded fine right about now -- but any nonsense about what she might deserve. She stared down at her plate, her nose appreciating the scent, her mouth watering and stomach growling impatiently to be sated.

She held off it. She didn't even know why she bothered coming here and ordering anything that wasn't alcoholic.

She looked around again. People moved about as if the Ferasans had never been here. It was easy enough, she supposed; apart from the attack on the Shall Clanlands, the Enemy did not make much of an impact in this part of the world. Oh yes, like Roscoe, they'll have watched the news, they'll know her from that, and from her connection to Dad and Grandma and the Grandpas and-

"Lieutenant Hrelle?"

She was stirred from her thoughts by new arrivals at her table: an elderly male Caitian with ash-grey fur and spectacles resting on his muzzle, and an auburn-furred female cub, maybe nine or ten, standing beside him, looking at Sasha in open wonder... and with what looked like a toy sword strapped to her side.

Sasha swallowed; she wasn't in the mood for more fans, and she'd deny being herself if she could get away with it... an unlikely scenario, given her being the only human around, and so well-known. "Yes, that's me."

The old male bowed slightly. "I am Duro Presirr. This is my grandcub, K'Niri."

The cub bowed... but rested her paw on the hilt of her sword. "Mistress K'Niri. Of the Kaetini."

"Oh?" Despite her depressed state, Sasha couldn't help but be amused by the cub's introduction, and bowed back in her seat. "It's nice to meet a fellow Kaetini around here. It's good to know that Stonebay is safe from any further problems."

Duro smiled at the human's affable response to the cub's declaration. "We are sorry for disturbing you at your meal, but when K'Niri-"

"Mistress K'Niri," the cub corrected her grandfather gently.

He smiled to her. "Forgive me, Cub, I am old and forget such things easily." Then he continued to Sasha. "When Mistress K'Niri saw you here, she was most insistent on meeting you, being such a big fan of yours. But if you wish to be left alone-"

"No. No, it's okay. Would you like to sit?"

K'Niri did not have to be told twice, Duro sitting beside her. "You are most gracious. At my age I find myself resting on my laurels more and more."

Sasha smiled. "Grandpa Mi'Tree says his back and his knees are in a constant argument over which gets to complain to him more." She noticed K'Niri again, who couldn't take her bronze eyes off of the shuris and waffles. "Listen, do you think you can help me with this? I ordered way too much, and lately I have no appetite."

The grandfather shook his head. "No, no, that's too generous of you, Lieutenant-"

But K'Niri was already drawing the plate over to her side of the table and reaching for the cutlery. "I have to help other Kaetini when they ask, Grandpa."

"Hmph. Well, that'll mean you won't need a midday meal when we get home." He focused on Sasha again. "I'm certain you've heard this far too much already from our people, but I wanted to thank you for all your efforts to help save us, Lieutenant."

More than I can say without being rude. And none of it deserved. "You're welcome. And please, call me Sasha." She watched K'Niri as she devoured the meal, envying her appetite. "Are you minding her for her parents?"

There was a slight shift in his expression. "Her parents died during the Occupation."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

He made a sound. "My son and his wife were both in the Militia, stationed at Syeya Province, when the Ferasans first struck months ago." He looked to K'Niri, reached out and stroked her mane. "It was a fortunate happenstance that this little one was staying with me at the time. It was meant to be only for a few days."

Her heart sank as she listened. More deaths, Sasha. The tally grows and grows. "I'm so sorry to hear that, Mr Presirr. It must have been devastating for both of you."

Duro smiled wistfully. "A parent should never outlive their cubs. Not that it was any easier for K'Niri; embracing the tales of the Kaetini have helped her cope, however. And I must admit, it's rather invigorating making school lunches again at my age."

He reached out for a napkin, dipped a corner in a glass of water on the table and worked it around K'Niri's snout, ignoring her growls of protest. "Or helping with homework. Or keeping these little whirlwinds from leaping off balconies while they're playing Kaetini. Or a hundred other things." Then he set the napkin down and sighed. "We've had time to accept, and cope. We have each other. We are grateful for that.

And for you."

"Me? I- I couldn't do anything to help K'Niri's parents at Syeya."

"We know. But you helped others. Many times."

Sasha shook her head. No. No, please don't. "N-No."

"But you did. You did so much good-"

"It wasn't enough!"

Then it came out of her: feeling her face nova with heat, the tears running down her cheeks, her breath quickening as she struggled to keep it in, to keep from losing control in public. She sat there trembling as if caught in a fever, aware of K'Niri and her grandfather and everyone else staring in confusion in her direction. She rose quickly, nearly tipping her chair over as she stepped down from the veranda and rushed around to the side of the restaurant, feeling herself crumble from within as she slumped to the dirt, crying her eyes out.

At some point, she felt a presence kneeling before her: Duro, holding her now, purring. "There, there, Cub, it's alright, let it out."

Even as she accepted his compassion, she couldn't stop feeling thoroughly ashamed at herself, at behaving this way, after this poor, gentle soul had lost so much himself. To have him offer comfort to a stranger... "I'm- I'm sorry- I- I have- have no right to burden you-"