Surefoot 80: Heroes' Race

Then his version of a smile faded, and his voice dropped to a private murmur, despite their seclusion. "But here, Commodore, in this place of confidence, and candour, I can tell you as I can tell no other: deep within me, I was terrified. Yes, I had my other senses to let me continue to fight my opponents, at least in the short term. But afterwards? What if my sight did not return?"

Hrelle frowned. "Your medical technology-"

"-Would not have been allowed, not for this. My father, my brothers, would have seen my disability as weakness, and finished me off."

It was not an unexpected response, but it still sent chills down the Starfleet flag officer's spine. "A cold blooded attitude to take."

"Perhaps. But only in this way are we kept strong, invincible."

The Caitian crossed his arms now. "'Invincible'? Really? I stopped counting all the races roaring that they're the Masters of the Universe... from their own tiny little corners of it, after having been beaten back to it by superior forces.

Or aren't you taught about your own history? Like the time you came to Cait almost a hundred years ago and tried to claim it? Or is the truth about your actual limitations buried because it's too frightening for you?"

Saga-Var regarded him, his hackles rising and his teeth almost bared... before he relaxed again. "Perhaps we should just agree to disagree, eh, Commodore? I have no doubt there are many differences in our peoples and philosophies, but we are not here to settle them, are we?"

"No," Hrelle conceded. "And I am sorry if my words offended you."

The Kzin waved off the apology. "I am no cub. It will take more than words to harm me."

"I'll have to test that for myself later."

Saga-Var laughed and leaned back. "We were destined to meet today, I believe."

"Destined? Really?"

"Yes. We Kzinti see our destinies before us like prey. Even as a cub, I knew I was destined to one day lead my Pride, and strove to make it a reality. Did you not feel something similar, when you stood on your father's fishing boat on the oceans of Cait, dreaming of a life of war and glory in Starfleet?"

Hrelle started at the mention of his cubhood, but accepted that Saga-Var had done his proverbial homework. "I don't believe in destiny. More times than that, the Universe Has Other Plans, and that true strength is defined by how we adapt when those Other Plans are revealed to us."

Then he leaned back as well, relaxing some himself as he continued. "If you had asked my Papa, he would have said my destiny was to continue with the family line, bringing in netfuls of sleekfish and scybdils, marrying a local female and raising cubs to succeed me.

Yes, I wanted more. And yes, I too strove to make it a reality. It cost me my father, my clan. I felt isolated during my time at Starfleet Academy, made bearable by my bonding with a man of another race. A man who became my Brother..."

*

Weynik briskly drew the oilcloth for the hundredth time over the strong, thin blades of his twin short swords, always checking on the chronometer on the wall of his Ready Room, always checking on the status board he had set up, connected to the Tactical Display on the adjacent Bridge. There was a subliminal shudder to his ship; as ordered, his crew was pushing the Katana to its limits, Chief Maryk having overridden the safety protocols. They would need a major overhaul after this.

It didn't matter.

The doorchime pulled him from his thoughts. "I said I didn't want to be disturbed."

The door slid open, and Sasha stepped inside, just enough to let the door shut behind her.

"I said-"

"I heard, Sir."

He looked up, noting she was clad in black combat armour, with her Kaetini sword strapped to one hip, a bandoleer of sonic stun grenades crossing down from her right shoulder, and a large ballistic pistol to the other hip. He nodded to the latter. "I'm assuming that's not filled with water?"

Sasha shook her head. "Just 6.66mm armour-piercing slugs. I have Security assigned to all critical areas, and Lt Jor-Dakk is preparing a detail to board the Kzinti ship, all with phaser, ballistic and melee weaponry." After a pause, she added, "I've included Cadet Boladede in that detail."

"What about Cadet C'Riir? He's Caitian, fast, strong-"

"And inexperienced. And according to his Counselor reports, still dealing with guilt over not being on Cait to help fight during the Occupation; I don't want him getting reckless trying to prove himself."

The Roylan nodded in agreement from behind his desk, rising up and walking around with his swords. "I'll keep an eye on the cadet when I go over."

The tall blonde human frowned. "The Seven Hells you are, Sir! I'm going. You have more tactical experience than me, you can hold your own ship to ship. I'm your First Officer, it's my job to lead any Away Team, and I've had more experience fighting felinoids."

"You fought Ferasans, not Kzinti. Your Dad used to tell me that Ferasans may have been inspired to emulate the Kzinti, but remained a pale imitation of them."

Sasha nodded, her hand, clad in fingerless leather gloves fitted with Caitian Pummels that could deliver neuroleptic shocks, resting on the hilt of her sword. "Same here. Did he tell you those bedtime stories, too, after tucking you in?"

"What happens at the Academy dorms, stays at the Academy dorms. And you're staying here."

She stuck out her chin. "Captain, I need to go."

"Because this involves family?"

"No. Because I'm female."

Weynik's black eyestalks tilted towards her chest. "Do those things have special powers I don't know about?"

She raised a rebuking finger at him. "Don't disrespect the Girls. As for the Kzinti: for all their strengths, they have just as many weaknesses, which have helped keep them as little more than a collection of loosely-allied Prides in their Patriarchy, despite having been spaceborne for centuries."

He nodded. "Toxic, self-destructive arrogance, predatory instincts overriding common sense, lack of scientific advancement, tribal competition-"

She nodded as well. "And an ingrained dismissive attitude towards the females of any species, since the Kzinti have bred intelligence out of their own females, making them little better than animals, and because many Kzinti remain isolated within their own territories and don't interact much with outsiders.

Did Dad ever tell you about the one time the Kzinti tried to invade Cait? It was 85 years ago, just after the Klingon moon Praxis blew up, and a Kzinti invasion force used the chaos at the time to cross through Federation space to the Caitian sector, and demand the Motherworld surrender to them as a satellite world of the Patriarchy. Being led by females, the Caitians were, to them, obviously weak, and in need of their masculine authority.

The Caitians destroyed them, left the wreckage of their fleet in the outer world of Kuburan, allowing one survivor to go back and warn the others. Warn them about the planet where females thought and spoke and, most terrifying of all to them, could fight and kill.

They would never admit to being scared. But they never came back, either.

I intend to rescue Dad and Kami, and then to send their abductors - those that survive me - back behind their borders, to tell the rest of them that the Lion of Salem Sector has a cub, a female cub, just as fierce as her father."

He looked up at her, reminding himself of how far the young woman had come since he first met her, when she was a snot-nosed cadet with a mouth like a Marine. "You stay safe over there, Lieutenant Commander."

*

Kami sat on the backless chair, keeping her head low and subservient, as ThirdSon sat on the bed, glaring, but at something unseen rather than her.

She kept cool, calculating every question, and the tone she used. "So the naming is a three-stage process with the Heroes' Race? You start out with a designation based on your relation to your Pridemaster, like ThirdSon of Saga-Var. Then, on entering maturity and active service to your Pride, you take on a designation based on your job, like Second Engineer or Pack Leader. It's only upon achieving some great feat of courage or honour that you are given an actual name?"

The Kzin ground his teeth with indignation. "Oh, no; if you are part of the Patriarch's Pride, you get a name from birth! How disgusting is that, to have something as valuable as that just... given to you... without earning it?"

Kami suppressed her urge to remind him of how the majority of races in the Galaxy do just that, and guided the talk back towards the Kzin's favourite subject: himself. "You are the same age as your brothers, you have the same strength, the same courage and skills. But your father keeps denying you the opportunity to prove yourself."

She saw the agreement on his expression, in his scent, though he tried to cover it with his default anger. "He is no fool!"

"I would never imply otherwise, ThirdSon; his strength and honour is obvious, as is your love for him. But as I told you before, I observe. I saw how your brothers reacted when your father disrespected you, saw the looks they exchanged.

They have his ear. But what are they whispering about you in his ear? Poisoning your chances at being Named? At being noticed at all?"

ThirdSon glared at her, as if she was the one responsible for the revelations she knew were already in the back of his mind.

"It hurts more for you," she ventured softly. "Because you love him so much. You want him to see how much you care for him, more than your brothers, who are clearly only out to fulfil their own selfish ambitions."

As he pondered her words, she added, "What illness does he have?"

*

"And your... Beast..." Saga-Var continued, "It really died when you underwent surgery?"

Hrelle leaned forward, exhausted from the amount of private information he had unloaded, more than he had expected to do. But despite himself, his reservations, he had felt a certain kinship to Saga-Var, a leader close to his own age. "A part of him. An iteration. But he came back to another form of life, when I was critically injured on Cait fighting a Ferasan assassin."

The Kzin smiled. "Then perhaps we shall awaken him again today?"

"No. NO. You don't want that. I certainly don't want that." He felt his hackles rise, regretting revealing so much to an enemy, even if it did stretch out this time in captivity. "The Beast represents everything my people find reprehensible."

"But he's a part of you. He's a part of all of your people."

"That doesn't mean he's welcome. He's like a disease..." He frowned. The Kzin seemed to have opened up as well, had been true to his promise to learn about each other. But there was something Saga-Var had been holding back, something that Hrelle felt confident enough to raise now... especially if he could use it later. "Speaking of diseases... the Kzinti sense of smell... how strong is it?"

Saga-Var leaned back curiously. "Why do you ask, Esek?"

"Caitians' olfactory senses are particularly keen, though most of us tune it towards keeping track of our family members... in particular illnesses that might arise with them." He tapped the tip of his snout. "What illness am I getting from you, Saga-Var?"

The Pridemaster stiffened, almost snarling... but then relaxing and relenting, his expression, tone and scent sobering. "Among the Heroes' Race, it is known as the Black Shakes. It is a degenerative neuromuscular disease focused on my spine, still in its early stages with me... and incurable to our sciences."

He made a grudging sound. "I must compliment you on your abilities, Esek. They are indeed superior to ours, which we have focused on tracking prey. Only my sons are fully aware of my condition, and will keep it between ourselves, until one of them is ready to assume mastery of our Pride, and kill me."

Hrelle breathed in. "'Fully aware'? You mean there are others who suspect? Other rival Prides, maybe? That's why you're really challenging me, isn't it? To visibly affirm your strength to continue to lead, until you have a worthy successor?"

Saga-Var grunted, flexing the claws of his right paw in and out as he seemed to consider his response, before doing so. "The strakh, the honour, I will gain in defeating you will reaffirm my Pride's standing."

Hrelle nodded in understanding. "And if I defeat you, you get to die honourably, as a Hero. A Win-Win for you. My compliments."

The Kzin nodded. "Thank you, Esek." He rose, stretching out his arms and rolling his neck. "And on that revelation, I think we're ready."

Hrelle tensed. No, no, they needed more time, time for help to get here. "Wait... I hardly know anything about your homeworld... I've learned more in just a few hours-"

Saga-Var raised an open paw to him, offering a slight, knowing smile. "You've cooperated with my desire only to delay our duel, Commodore. You delivered some sort of signal to your comrades at Salem One, expecting a response on their part by now."

The Caitian started.

"I take no offence, Commodore," the Kzin assured him at his reaction. "I wouldn't have done anything differently in your place. But clearly you've forgotten that we retain the Yridian hack on your sensor and communication network. Before we entered this room, I received confirmation that a Starfleet vessel, the Katana I believe it was called, was ordered to intercept us.

They will not intercept us. Instead, my son Ullor-Var has departed in our sister ship, the battleship Dawn Treader, which we brought undetected across the Border. He will intercept them... and they will destroy them. So, now you can fully focus on the business at paw."

*

Weynik leaned forward in the Captain's Chair; the tension on the Bridge could have been cut by Sasha's indestructible sword. His First Officer beside him was like a statue, as his Second Officer stood behind them at Tactical, offering updates. "Approaching the site of the Yacht's destruction, Captain... residual subspace disruption from the isolytic charge... debris... no organic material detected."

Sasha made an almost inaudible sound. Weynik was more vocal. "Thank Bloody Hemra. What about the warp trail from the Prideship?"

"The trails are leading deeper into the system, towards Nepenthe."

"Lt Grel, give the warp drive a rest and slow us to full impulse, and keep those beady Tellarite pinholes you call eyes open and continue on course to Nepenthe. Lt Holtzmann, have you finished your analysis of the system's gas giant?"

The impossibly young-looking human turned in her chair at the Science station, icy blue eyes wide beneath her bob of honey-blonde hair as she looked to the centre of the Bridge, the image of a large world ribboned with pastel colours behind her. "Yes, Captain; the planet is currently in the apex of a cyclic polar reversal, producing isomagnetic bursts affecting our long-range sensors."

Weynik nodded at that, glancing at Sasha, who confirmed, "I'd pounce from there if I were them."

"Phasers and torpedoes are primed and ready," Mori reported with a growl. "I'll aim by sight if necessary."

"It won't be," Weynik replied. "We're following the warp trail they left us, towards Nepenthe, and let them think we're falling into their trap. Keep your eyes on the giant. Engineering, I want Auxiliary power ready to divert to the transporters when ready."

The Bridge went silent as they proceeded further into the system, Weynik going over the tactical data provided in the last Squadron security briefing about known Kzinti vessels, weapons, tactics, strengths, weaknesses, how they compare and contrast with what Esek had taught him in the past-

He rose to his feet, still staring ahead at the viewscreen. "Mr Mori, direct scans ahead of us."

"Sir?"

He felt Sasha's eyes on him. "Captain?"

The Roylan stayed focused on the starfield, his heart quickening. "They know we'll be watching the gas giant, that's the obvious place for them to hide and pounce on us. The last briefing indicated they had obtained improved cloaking devices; run subspace echograms. They're ahead of us!" He looked at her now. "Get your team to the Transporter Room, be ready to beam over at a moment's notice!"

As she nodded and rose to depart, he felt himself straighten up. "Battle Stations!"

The klaxon sounded... just in time for a vessel to shake off its cloak and appear dead ahead: not the huge Kzini Prideship he expected, but a more compact Battleship, with bright war stripes across the nacelles and dorsal hull. It fired disruptor beams at the Katana, the Sabre-class vessel rocking in response, her shields holding, as Weynik ordered, "Evasive Pattern Alpha-Two, avoid their disruptors! Ms Holtzmann, scan the vessel for Caitians! Mr Mori, focus your attack on their shield emitter arrays, I want our team beamed over as soon as possible! Ms Carter, hail the Kzinti, order them to stand down and return their prisoners!"

"They won't respond to that, Sir!" Mori informed him.

I know, Weynik admitted silently to himself as he watched them swoop under the much larger ship, phasers striking along the array strips, the beams producing orange-red energy feedback, but I still have to make the effort, if only for the official record. He sat down again, so as not to end up flying down like a rag doll if the manoeuvres got more tricky. "Grel, keep us close to them, inside their weapons bubble! Mori, keep attacking their ventral array, if we can bring their shields down there locally-"

"Captain!" the Caitian shouted. "We have Kzinti fighters! Emerging from the battleship!"

Weynik watched the swarm of tiny, overpowered wasps sweep out and begin firing. The Katana shuddered.

Her Captain persisted. "Get those shields down, Mr Mori! Your girlfriend has some Kzinti blood to spill!"

*

The Arena was large and circular, with a sunken golden floor bordered with a raised level, the walls sectioned with red and gold columns fitted with old-fashioned fire torches, and the rest of the walls festooned with bladed weapons. Kzinti males lined the raised dais, their excitement thick in the air.

All that Hrelle could think about was the Katana, his friend's ship, his daughter's ship, heading into a trap... and there was nothing he could do about it. "Pridemaster! Saga-Var!"

The Kzin, bereft of his armour and holding a heavy-looking double-edged sword, stood in the centre of the room with him, turning and facing him once more, the informality of before cast aside now. "Commodore?"

"The Starfleet vessel... there's no need to involve them... leave them alone."

Saga-Var looked at him curiously. "I didn't involve them; you did. And I can hardly allow them to interfere in our business, after all my preparation for this moment, can I?" He regarded him more closely, suspiciously. "You're a veteran senior officer, not given to weak-minded sentimentality. You have sent warriors to risk their lives, to die, many times before. Why are you concerned about this vessel?"

Hrelle gauged his response, before replying, "My daughter is serving onboard it."

Saga-Var nodded in understanding. "You spoke of her with great love and admiration. I would have enjoyed meeting her alive."

Now the Caitian stabbed a finger at him, his tail snapping behind him. "Call off the attack, or I won't fight! All of this will have been for nothing!"

The Kzinti growled and snarled. But their Pridemaster remained unintimidated. "Then I will consider our agreement voided, and flush you and your mate into space, and still destroy the Starfleet vessel, and gain some small strakh from this venture.

Or... you can fight me, as you first agreed, and if you defeat me, my son will call off the attack. You will have my word on that." He looked at one of the spectators. "Make my word happen." He looked back at Hrelle. "Well, Commodore? The sooner you agree, the more likely your intrepid daughter will survive the day."