Surefoot 10: Fast and the Furriest

"You talk nonsense!" SecondSon accused.

"The scientists who developed the disruptor cannons on your ships," Kami pointed out, "Who keep the engines of your vessels running at peak efficiency, who heal injuries that get your warriors back on their feet to fight another day, they all play important roles too."

The young Ferasan grunted. "I would expect a female to say something like that."

"Yes," she agreed. "Because it makes sense. Great Mother forfend that you listen to something sensible."

"Great Mother," SecondSon spat. "Heresy! Your false goddess has no place in any discussion!"

"False goddess?" Kami raised an eyebrow at him. "She was in ascendant for a thousand years before your Patriarch was invented-"

Treshek held up a hand, smiling. "The first rule they taught me when I trained to be a Consul was never discuss Sex or Religion; no one can win that discussion. Don't you agree, Captain?"

Hrelle shrugged. "I heard it was Politics and Death. And I always thought that the aim of any discussion should not be to win, but to learn. Walking in with an open mind and an open heart-"

SecondSon spat on the floor. "Weakling nonsense! Is that what you Caitians are? Soft, effete female-worshipping babies? No wonder we improved ourselves!"

"If you really improved yourselves," Kami pointed out sweetly, "Then why has every attempt you've made to conquer us, or Earth, been met with your defeat?"

"Because we're arrogant," Treshek answered first, enjoying the reaction he received from her at his honesty. "And we always go in unprepared, because preparation would imply weakness. We are obsessed with strength and prowess, and neglect so many other desirable qualities, both as individuals, as Prides and as a people. We mewl in the night like cubs about our fierceness, but in the harsh light of day we are still cubs.

There is much about my people that I would see change, Counselor. If we are fortunate, perhaps an increased exposure to the rest of the Galaxy will help us grow up a little?"

Hrelle regarded the Consul differently. Not necessarily with more trust, but with less suspicion. "You might want to start that growth with not having a Telepath in the room unannounced, secretly probing your guests' thoughts."

Kami frowned, looking up at the male who had brought in the drinks. "You?" Then she looked at her husband. "How can you tell?"

"Past experiences with telepaths have left me sensitive. Also, he carries no weapons and wears no armour, and has fewer colours on his belt... and I've been watching his moments of concentration as he focused on us." Hrelle looked up at him. "Well? Give him your report, Bubulah."

Treshek's Telepath glanced at the Consul with embarrassment, receiving a nod before complying. "He was given orders by the Caitian Ambassador to investigate us. Apart from the disagreement with our historical recollection, and a contempt for SecondSon's attempts to engage him in combat, I am detecting nothing else. The female is conflicted, reacting negatively to our propaganda and attitudes but wanting to remain cordial; her mate's mental state is also prominent in her mind."

Kami leaned back, folding her arms across her chest, her expression sharp. "I could have told you all that without being probed without my permission."

Treshek's Telepath offered an apologetic half-bow, As Treshek spoke up again. "Forgive the subterfuge, Counselor, Captain, but as a senior member of the Ferasan Consulate Offices I am required to protect myself as well as my people's interests."

"Yeah," Hrelle muttered, still staring at the telepath. "You want to tell your master what I'm thinking I'll do now if you keep reading our minds?"

Treshek's Telepath shuddered, and looked to the Consul. "Perhaps it is time for dinner?"

"Excellent idea!" Treshek motioned for the Telepath to proceed; the latter departing as the Consul continued. "But, you must admit, that while we have much to learn from our cousins, you have things to learn from us?"

"Perhaps. Though maybe not in the way you believe."

"No? What about our strength of Pride? Nearly every member of my crew and staff are members of my Pride. We have our bond, our unity-"

"Caitian clans have strength," Kami indicated. "We have unity. But our strength and unity is built on love and loyalty. And unlike you, we don't limit what our females can achieve, and we don't have telepaths we treat like indentured servants."

As if on cue, Treshek's Telepath returned, guiding other Ferasans to set large cubes covered in cloths. Hrelle stared at these, only half-listening to Treshek respond. "These are minor societal differences, understandable given the centuries since our bifurcation. We have other things we share: our desire for the hunt, the kill."

Hrelle's hackles rose as he stared at the cube set before him on the table, smelling and hearing something alive beneath the cloth. "Consul... what is going on?"

"I have something special for you," he promised, "A rare delicacy, and something we don't display to outsiders; we'll offer them our grilled meats, and leave this for ourselves. Have a look."

Hrelle lifted up the cloth, Kami doing the same for her own, as Treshek and SecondSon followed suit. The Caitians stared at plump, coiled snakes with mottled apple-green skin and wide mouths that hissed from within their cages. "What is this?"

"Wentilian condor snakes. Quite rare, a special treat, particularly to have them live."

Hrelle looked up to see SecondSon open the door to the caged snake sitting in front of him, reaching inside and drawing it out. The snake unfurled, and then wrapped itself around the Ferasan's arm, squeezing tightly even as SecondSon's grip around the snake's neck - before snapping it with a sharp crack that made Kami's wince.

Then Treshek did the same with his own snake, casually tossing the now-emptied cage before him to the floor to make room on the table for his meal. They extended their claws and pierced the skin, making black-red blood spurt here and there.

Kami returned the cover to her own meal's cage. "I've lost my appetite."

Hrelle did the same. "Thanks for the meal, Consul, but I had helpless creature for lunch."

Next to SecondSon, Treshek looked up at the Caitians with a mixture of bemusement and derision. "Not so helpless; they do offer some amusement." He chuckled. "Does it truly disgust you to have to kill your own food? Isn't it more honest than having replicated proteins disguised as meat?"

"Honest? Maybe. But it's also unnecessary. We've reached a level of technology where living animals do not have to be slaughtered for food."

SecondSon wiped his muzzle on his sleeve. "Maybe we should get you some vegetables to nibble on?" He chuckled to himself.

"Sure, Snagglepuss. We'll start with your brain."

Treshek laughed at that. "Come on, Captain! You must have killed and eaten living things meat in your day! Your time as a prisoner, for instance? With no access to your fancy replicators?"

Hrelle tensed. "Of course; eating vermin beat starving, but that doesn't make me nostalgic. I also spent my time shitting in a hole in the floor; that doesn't mean I'm gonna give up a proper toilet with The Three Seashells."

"But the thrill of the Hunt-"

"What hunt? You reached into a cage and drew out a creature that never had a real chance at fighting back! Go up against a bear or a mugatu or a razoreel with just your claws and fangs, and then you can boast about your predatory prowess!"

Treshek looked ready to rip into the belly of his snake, as if to catch up with SecondSon, who allowed blood and flesh to spatter on his clothes and table, but then he looked up at the Caitian. "Are you really attempting to be superior to us, Captain? Because I've seen what you really are." He set down the corpse snake and drew out a small remote from within his armour, pointing it at the wall behind SecondSon.

The stark wall was replaced with bright moving images and sounds, a kinetic play of two characters grappling with each other in a brightly-lit pit, as unseen spectators cheered and jeered and catcalled.

Hrelle's heart triphammered, and his stomach plummeted into his boots.

There he was, on the screen: gaunt, scarred, tailless and naked, patches of fur missing from his body, roaring as he punched and kicked and bit into the hide of an equally-naked Nausicaan, its facial claws broken but its spirit still strong as it fought back, each of them drawing blood from the other as the roars of the unseen crowd in the Orion fighting pit grew to a frenzy.

He knew about the Orion deathmatch videos, of course, knew they were popular in certain circles despite being banned in the Federation, for obvious reasons. But he never saw them. Why would he?

SecondSon looked over his shoulder casually, in time to see the younger Hrelle snap the neck of the Nausicaan, sending it to the ground while he roared in triumph. "Hmph, good one."

Hrelle felt Kami's hand on his arm as he rose onto unsteady legs,looking away at Treshek. "W-What are you d-doing with that-"

Kami was on her feet as well, outraged. "How dare you show that to my husband?"

Treshek looked up at her. "Why? Didn't you know? It's what he is." His gaze narrowed. "And it's what he's going to be again."

Hrelle breathed out hard through clenched teeth, but he looked at Kami and slapped his combadge. "H-Hrelle to S-Surefoot." When there was no answer, he tried again, controlling his stammer completely now. "Surefoot, answer!"

As he realised the Ferasans were blocking transmissions, he felt a familiar stunning force strike him from behind, his ear filled with the cry of Kami as she, too, was stunned...

*

Hrelle was no virgin to being stunned; as the vestiges of his consciousness returned to his control, he mentally forced control back to himself, struggling internally to awaken and be ready without actually moving and alerting whoever he knew would be monitoring his progress, in order to get the drop on them-

Until he heard the voice of Treshek's Telepath. "He's awake. Wanting to surprise us."

Then he heard Treshek chuckle. "Good, good. Come on, Captain, we're wasting time."

Hrelle opened his eyes, aware of having been stripped to his briefs, his hands bound behind him with electronic cuffs. He was on the floor of a large cell, looking up at the Consul, the Telepath, SecondSon and numerous Ferasan guards standing at the other end. His head rang, there was a sharp pain at the base of his spine, and his mouth felt like a desert; he struggled to speak. "W-Where's-"

Treshek nodded. "Your wife is nearby, we'll bring her in momentarily to confirm her safety to you."

"If you've hurt her-"

"I know, I know, there'll be no place where I'll be safe from your wrath, etcetera etcetera."

Hrelle forced himself to move, to try and get himself back to his feet; his arms were bound behind him, but they left his mouth, his teeth, unbound. "Why are you doing this?"

SecondSon stepped forward. "You will not deny me my chance at earning my name! We will step into the Pit, and I will-"

"Go fuck yourself! Again!" Hrelle looked to Treshek. "This is what all of this is all about? Assaulting Starfleet personnel, kidnapping them, imprisoning them? So this mangy worthless cub gets a chance to get spanked and sent home crying?"

"You fat old woman-worshipping weakling!" SecondSon snapped. "I'll kill you here and now-"

But was drawn back by Treshek. "No, you will wait until the Pit is ready, and your Pridemaster and elders are on the monitors to personally witness the outcome." He stepped forward now, focusing on Hrelle. "Essentially, yes, Captain. As I'm certain you're already aware, although those Orion videos are banned within the Federation, they are quite popular among our people. You have gained a fearsome reputation as the Beast. And SecondSon here is dead set on challenging you, and being seen to challenge you."

He smirked. "Granted, you're much older and, ah, substantial than you once were, but I bet you'll still put up quite a fight in our Pit. Certainly the information we received about your grappling with the Nausicaan slavers on the freighter Beholder months ago is proof of that."

Hrelle shook his head. "I don't get it. Why should you care if Snagglepuss gets his name? You said he isn't even a part of your Pride!"

"That is true," Treshek admitted. "But his Pridemaster is influential within the Patriarch's Council. My doing this for his cub means he will ensure I get a full name. With that, I will gain much wealth and power of my own. My own Pride will be watching as well, and taking bets." He smiled. "I have good money that you rip the arrogant cub's throat out."

SecondSon glanced at him. "What are you saying-"

Treshek never even looked back at him. "Shut up, brat; two men are talking, and a spoiled, indulgent little shit like you wouldn't understand. By the Patriarch, if your Pridemaster didn't have such influence, I would have gutted you myself and fed you to my own cubs, so just stand there and be quiet. Captain, whether you are defeated by him and he gains his name, or you defeat him, and he dies with honour and perhaps a posthumous name, I will still get my own reward. I believe the humans call that a 'win-win scenario'."

Hrelle swallowed. "And you... you think you can get away with all of this?"

Treshek shrugged. "I am a Ferasan Consul. I have diplomatic immunity, as does everyone onboard my ship, as my employees. You can't touch us, Captain. Well? What do you say?"

"I say you fatherless kussiks can go lick your mangy rat tails."

"Of course you do." Treshek looked to the Telepath, who nodded and departed. "That's why we're moving swiftly to the resolution of this problem."

"What? You're gonna torture me into cooperating? Arseholes. I've been tortured by experts. I've had the shit kicked out of me more times than you can count."

"I'm sure," Treshek replied, "But who said we were going to torture you?"

His telepath returned, with- "Sasha! Kami!"

The pair were bound and missing their combadges, looking both afraid and defiant, and shoved into the cell. Hrelle rushed to them, only to have a pair of guards draw up and hold him in place. He looked to his family. "Are you two okay?"

Sasha nodded, gasping. "Better than these fuckers will be when I get loose."

Treshek chuckled. "Give her fur, claws and a tail and she could pass for one of our people; I can see your influence in her upbringing, Captain."

"Esek," Kami growled, terrifyingly angry eyes fixed on the Consul, "Whatever he wants... don't give it to him."

"Yeah, Dad," Sasha agreed. "He can't hurt us. He wouldn't dare."

Treshek smiled at Hrelle. "Such loyalty. Such defiance. Such naivete. They don't understand what you understand, do they, Captain?" He drew up to Sasha, reached up and played with strands of her honey-blonde locks, before walking behind her, stopping when Kami moved closer before she was held in place by another guard.

When Treshek stood behind Sasha, he looked over her shoulder at Hrelle again. "They have never been in the grip of someone who had control over them." He drew even closer, reaching around and stroking her neck, her throat, almost tenderly, smirking at her efforts to pull away from him. "Absolute control."

"DON'T TOUCH HER!" Hrelle roared, teeth bared, his guards barely able to restrain him.

And Treshek stopped touching her - only to reach up and rake her right cheek with his claws.

She cried out, the harsh red stripes leaking blood, and Hrelle and Kami fought with their respective captors with increased ferocity. But it was futile.

Treshek shot Kami a contemptuous look, before returning to stand before Hrelle once more, his voice soft, almost gentle. "You understand the depths of suffering that one person can inflict on another without a glimmer of conscience to get in the way.

So... when I tell you that if you don't cooperate, I will take your wife and daughter out of here, and make sure that before they die, every male in my Pride has had a taste of them... you believe me. Don't you, Captain?"

Hrelle stopped struggling. He looked past Treshek, saw the deep, dark scratches on Sasha's face, the blood streaming down in fingers to her uniform, saw the pain and the terror in her saucered eyes, and in the eyes of his wife, smelled the fear from them both.

His voice was a whisper, cold and quiet. "Yes."

"So... will you swear to cooperate?"

He nodded to his family. "I swear, on their lives... I'll freely get in the Pit with SecondSon."

"No, Esek!" Kami cried out. "You'll be killed!"

SecondSon strode up to her, smacking her face with the back of his hand. "You're much prettier with your mouth shut, female!"

"Get him away from them," Hrelle hissed.

Treshek looked over at the younger Ferasan. "Keep your hands to yourself, cub! Save that for the Pit, and the Captain. You're going to need it when you face him, I promise you." He looked back at Hrelle again, nodding in satisfaction. "Thank you for being reasonable, Captain... and thank you for sparing me the obligatory promise to come after me and make me pay for what I've done."

Hrelle fixed on him, his own voice just as low, but with no trace of amusement. "I shouldn't have to promise it. Now let them go."

Treshek stepped back. "I think we'll hold onto them until the end of the match. I swear to you, Captain, they will be freed."

"And I'm supposed to believe you?"

"I don't particularly care if you do or not, since you can't take the chance of refusing to cooperate." He turned and barked at the guards, "Lock them away for now!" To SecondSon he added, "Prepare yourself, we shouldn't tarry." Finally he looked back at Hrelle. "We'll begin shortly. Is there anything you'd like, Captain?"

"Yeah. I'd like you to enjoy breathing while you still can."

Treshek chuckled. "That made my fur stand up a little, Captain. You Caitains act so smug and superior to us, call us savage versions of yourselves. But you're really no better. Are you?"

Hrelle never answered. He just stared at Sasha and Kami as they were led away, trying to express all the love, all the guilt and sorrow he felt at their being hurt - because of him.

*

On the Promenade, Kit stood with his crewmates, and watched - not them, but the Ferasans, observing their behaviour, their dialogue and attitudes and body language, once the basketball game ended in a mutual draw, and Giles, as the de facto leader of the cadets in the absence of Sasha, was leading them back to the concourse to witness some more acrobatics and sample some foods, with the Ferasan youths in tow.

Kit was lagging behind, however, to the point where Eydiir drew back and approached. "Is there a problem? Have the Ferasans intimidated you?"

"Me, Friend Eydiir? No, though I thank you for your concern. I am merely collating my observations on them, in comparison with what I have learned from our three Caitian crewmates."

"And have you learned anything of interest?"

"Yes. Both races - and they must reasonably be considered separate races at this point - maintain similarities, not just biologically but culturally, especially with regard for appreciating family loyalty. But whereas Caitians are inclusive as to whom they would extend their sense of loyalty, Ferasans are exclusive. Caitians are cooperative, but Ferasans clamour for personal honour and gain, with little sense of self-sacrifice or even cooperation."

Eydiir nodded. "They have heightened strength and speed, but demonstrate little discipline. They have little to no experience fighting or even just interacting with any race but their own. And their equally heightened reflexes make them overreact at times."