Surefoot 71: The End

Whatever you say, boys, you're the Master Race. Sasha charged at the nearest one, trying to connect, keeping them off guard as much as possible and not let their superior numbers and strength and speed get the better of her.

Dad, how do you win a fight?

She connected with the first, disabling him with a neuroleptic-driven punch, then feinting and dodging the other, letting him swing out with his clawed paws, snarling and gnashing those big ugly sabreteeth at her.

They clawed at her flesh her scalp oh God-

It felt like hours were passing instead of seconds.

She managed a hard kick to her opponent's kneecap, shattering it and making him howl, before she despatched him with a punch to the jaw, sending teeth flying.

And still more came.

Not seeing her phaser rifle around, she drew her pistol again and began running and firing, leaving her free hand to reach up for the hilt of her sword as she did the most unexpected, most insane thing anyone could imagine, and charge straight into the Ferasans practically falling on top of each other to get into the room.

Only now she had her sword drawn, cutting through armour and flesh and bone like water.

Blood filled the air.

Screams filled the air.

Some of both were her own.

They were either falling back, or falling down, as Sasha found herself in another open area, some sort of meeting or dining area to judge from the tables and chairs.

Another Ferasan tackled her, and they rolled together, making her drop her sword to keep from accidentally cutting or even impaling herself. She used a classic K'Gressir move mixed with some Vulcan Suus Mahna taught her by T'Varik, but her latest opponent, a big bastard of a Ferasan, was fresh for the fight, catching her across the right side of her face with a rake of his claws, and roared in her face.

She spat out a dislodged tooth and some blood and laughed hoarsely, beckoning to him.

He charged again, the pair of them going over a table.

Dad, how do you win a fight?

A fight? Well, Sash, a fight can be won by any number of factors: size, strength, speed, skill, savagery, superior weapons, sheer dumb luck...

He tried to clamp his teeth around her throat, but she jammed her forearm into his mouth, while repeatedly punching him in the side of his head, ignoring the claws he dug into her exposed skin, ignoring the pain and fatigue and fear.

But more often than not, a fight is won by the one who can take the most punishment. The one who can fall nineteen times and get up twenty. The one who doesn't give up. Ever.

She reached between them with her free hand and activated her other sonic bomb, feeling her eardrums rupture this close, but knowing far worse happened to her opponent, at least until she finished him off with a phaser stun, shoving him aside.

She struggled back to her feet, falling over twice from the vertigo and injuries and exhaustion, barely able to hold up her phaser arm to make sure there were no others coming for her, before retrieving her bloodstained black sword.

She wouldn't give up.

Ever.

*

In Winterwane, Thohlis, an Andorian Sypher, turned a lighter shade of blue, his antennae curling upwards as he declared breathlessly, "We have the Link!"

Nimeni turned his chair to him and the others. "All Stations Connect! Feed them the Chaos Codes!"

*

On levels unseen by living things, swarms of code reached out across subspace channels, given unrestricted access, breaking down firewalls as they grasped Ferasan communications and transporter modules, tearing into them like razorfish on wounded prey; several hundred Ferasans unfortunate enough to have been in mid-transport at that moment had their transporter signals destabilised en route... re-appearing in states that left them... unrecognisable as anything that might have lived.

And the Chaos Codes continued onward and upward, seeking out and infecting all Ferasan systems that could be reached.

*

Mrorr nearly went over the rail as another blastwave struck the Deep Keep, her First Officer declaring, "Starboard shields down entirely! Starboard and Central Impulse Engine gone! We're losing altitude!"

"Stabilise!" Mrorr ordered. The klaxons filled the cold, smoke-filled air on the Bridge, as her crew struggled to stay in their seats or at their posts and continue to do their duty, no matter what.

This was it. Their cloak was gone, their shields and propulsion systems failing, their weapons depleted. She looked up to the barely-functioning viewscreen, seeing the Ferasan Prideships converging on their position. If they had any more of those basebuster bombs, or worse, atomic weapons like what had been used on Shanos Minor.

This was it, Csara. We've done all we could. Time to evacuate. She swallowed and breathed in. "All Hands-"

"LOOK!"

Mrorr paused, wondering what the Helm Officer was shouting about. All she saw was twelve or fifteen Prideships...

Exploding.

From the looks of it, they somehow had simultaneous failures in their antimatter containment systems, the ships erupting from within, the debris now arcing downwards in ever-sharpening curves and ever-increasing speeds into the atmosphere of Cait, an obvious uncontrolled descent. They began burning up.

She stared in naked disbelief.

*

In Shanos Major, bodies lay strewn about the park, bleeding and burning.

The remains of the Ferasan Pack that had finished off the Resistance stayed in close circular formation, the eight of them watching in every direction for any more still alive.

"Is that it?" one finally murmured.

"I think so," another replied beside him.

"Good. I emptied my gun."

"Me, too."

"And me."

Their Pack Leader drew in a sharp breath as he glanced around, the park illuminated by the lingering fires of combat. "Then let's get out of here. Maybe Melem-Adu will make an example of this city as well, and blow it to shit." He tapped his compatch. "Pack Leader Reda-Irn to Central: Transport Pack back to base."

Nothing.

He tried again, and again, and then turned to his remaining Pack. "Activate your Emergency Beamouts."

They tried. Nothing.

"What's going on?"

"Reda-Irn, what's happening?"

The Pack Leader glanced around in confusion, as if the answers lay in the darkness beyond. "Some- Some local interference perhaps. Cast aside your fears. This means nothing."

"This means everything."

They turned as one to the sound of the female Caitian voice, raising their weapons despite their depleted status.

Mistress Nvell, Leader of the Kaetini Order, rose to her feet from among the bodies strewn about her, twin swords in her paws. Her grey fur was drenched in blood, both the Enemy's and her own, her tail hung broken behind her, and there was a slight limp in her walk as she approached. "This means you've lost. No ammunition, no transport, no communication, no evacuation, no reinforcement." She pointed the tip of the sword in her right paw towards them. "No future."

Reda-Irn bared his teeth. "You before us, old bitch." He threw aside his now-useless disruptor and drawing out his claws. "RIP HER APART!"

They spread out, claws bared, charging, a wave upon her.

Nvell ducked and swung out in moves practised for over half a century, slicing open bellies, hacking off limbs, stabbing, gouging, sending them snarling and screaming to the Seven Hells as she pirouetted about like a female a third her real age. Some managed a few lucky strikes, dislodging her grip on one of her swords. But ultimately they fell, too.

It was the last of them, the Pack Leader, who had picked up her second sword and drove it into her back from behind.

Something like pain suffused her, deadened with shock and fatigue, but Nvell still managed to turn and mirror the action, sending him sprawling to the ground, pulling the blade out of her as he did so, blood spurting from him, eyes wide with astonishment.

She assessed her chances at survival. They were as thin as a strand of fur.

She considered calling for help, but decided that others would have more need, and a better chance to recover.

Nvell staggered back, away from the Ferasans and their body parts, not wanting her final seconds to be with their scent in her nostrils. I am a Warrior of the Great Mother. I am Her Eyes and I am Her Ears. I am her Teeth and I am her Claws. I am Her Purr, and I am Her Roar. I will defend the Living, and I will avenge the Dead. And I will give my life to protect the Motherworld and her people...

She didn't do too badly tonight.

She limped to a patch of grass and shrubbery with fresh blossoms -- eishottows, a favourite of hers -- and settled down, distantly hearing the chirp of her comm unit. She reached for it before she lost all control of her limbs. "Yes, Wserin?"

"Mistress, they've done it! And it's even more successful than we could have hoped! The Syphers' work hasn't just affected the Ferasans' transporters and communications, but their ships' systems! They're blowing up! Falling from the sky!"

Nvell looked up. In the absence of city lights, the evening sky was unobstructed, offering some beautiful starscapes. Not as beautiful as back home, but it would do.

Especially as she began seeing the streaks of lights above.

Beautiful.

"Mistress, what's the situation in Shanos Major?

Mistress Nvell? Are you still there?

Mistress?"

*

In the skies around Cait, on both the day and night side, those outside who took notice and could take the time to stop and stare, did so, affording themselves the sight of a lifetime: the debris of scores of Ferasan vessels raining down in an artificial meteor shower, most of the remains ultimately burning up, the larger pieces crashing into the oceans or on land, with thankfully none of them striking any populated areas.

*

"This- This is wrong."

The Ferasan technician in the Operations Centre of the Capitol Building muttered it under his breath, then immediately regretted it, not wanting to attract attention from the Master Governor. He frantically tried to re-establish the communication links with their bases... with no success. It had to be a localised failure. It had to be. Don't draw attention to yourself-

"WHAT'S GOING ON?"

All heads turned to Melem-Adu in the centre of the room, staring up at the many screens now going to static, or just blackness. He drew his disruptor out, moving around in place, daring someone to answer, or not answer.

Finally Har-User ventured closer. "Master Governor, we've- we've lost contact with our forces, on the ground and in orbit. The Transporter Network is down, and- and our security networks are being compromised by some computer virus- the Caitian systems within the building are still operating, at least partially, and we are attempting to bypass our compromised systems to use those to contact our forces around the rest of the planet, but..."

Melem-Adu bared his teeth, raising the disruptor higher. "But... what?"

His aide, to his credit, stood his ground. "They may no longer be alive out there."

"Look!"

All turned to the balcony, overlooking First City, and the Master Governor pushed past the others to stride up to it, looking up at the sky... and seeing the unscheduled meteor showe.

He looked down at the streets, at the hundreds of Caitians below who saw the same thing.

And now they were all starting to look up. At him.

No. No no no no... He re-entered the room. "My own Prideship is up there... contact it. And go to the Medical Bay and prepare my son for transport up."

"Sire, we cannot make contact, we cannot beam away, and there are no more ships up there! We are trapped here, alone!"

Before Melem-Adu could respond, another aide called out, "We have weapons fire in the upper sections! Patrol Packs report they're being attacked by- by-"

"By what?"

"By... talking fish."

The Master Governor stared. And then shot the one who delivered such utter nonsense.

*

Wheelie and his family raced through the air down the corridors, harness phasers firing ahead of them, their own natural ultrasonic pulses, normally used to stun fish, still effective in the air with the hypersensitive hearing of the Ferasans.

Behind them, Hrelle, Valtiri and Nenjo mopped up as they struggled to keep up with the Delphines, Hrelle calling out, "Slow down, Doctor! We have to stay together!"

"Whatever you say, Big Boy!" he called back, his voder always making his voice sound happy.

"Remarkable warriors," Valtiri noted, clutching an appropriated Ferasan disruptor rifle. "Their minds are as fluid as the medium they live in."

"And I want them to survive to swim again." He pictured their current location against where the Master Governor was going to be. They weren't far, not far now-

"Captain!" Valtiri shouted. "To your left, behind that door-"

The door was sliding open quickly, but Hrelle was ready for it, turning and firing multiple phaser bolts at the Ferasans who tried to ambush them. They went down in showers of sparks, and he fired several more times in the room to be certain.

He stopped and looked to the Hunter Prime. "Thank you."

Valtiri nodded. "I promised your wife and infant daughter to protect you. I do not wish to get on the bad side of either of them-"

Suddenly more Ferasans swarmed in, their numbers overwhelming Hrelle, Valtiri and Nenjo, the majority focusing on Hrelle. He lost his grip on his weapons, but roared in defiance and raked his claws, tearing open furred flesh.

They pinned him down, one of his opponents raising the muzzle of his disruptor to Hrelle's forehead-

Another roar to the left made many turn, to see Valtiri snap the neck of an opponent, flinging the body into another, before launching himself upon the Ferasans trying to kill Hrelle, one of them shooting the Hunter Prime as they rolled away.

Hrelle picked up his sword, ready to return the favour and save his ally, when he saw Nenjo struggling with her own opponents, and went after them to even up the odds against her.

There was the sound of more phaser fire, and the remaining Ferasan attackers falling, as the Delphines returned to render assistance, Wheelie squeaking, "Sorry, Captain, you're right, we should have stayed with you!"

"Never mind, keep watch! Nenjo! Are you alright?"

The female gasped and nodded in the affirmative, leaving Hrelle to return to Valtiri. "And you?"

The Ferasan gasped, gripping his side as blood ran out from between the digits of the paw he pressed on his wound. "I- I will live- your phaser, please-"

Hrelle understood, setting the level to Burn and handing it over, watching as Valtiri pointed it at his wound and began cauterising it shut, even as he looked down the corridor ahead of them, fighting back his pain to let him concentrate on his telepathic abilities. "The Operations Centre... is ahead. Melem-Adu... is within, along with..." He frowned in concentration. "Fifteen others. All... All are armed. Afraid of the situation. Of Melem-Adu."

Hrelle glanced at Nenjo. "Access the systems, prevent any more Ferasans coming up here, and then get ready to open those doors. Wheelie, you and your family watch her back." As the female and the Delphines complied, Hrelle looked to Valtiri again. "Thank you. You saved me, again."

The Hunter Prime smiled, gritting his teeth from pain. "I- I told you before, Captain... I keep my word."

"I believe you. Can you reach Melem-Adu's mind?"

"From this proximity? Yes, Captain."

"Contact him. Tell him his people have lost. Tell him he has nowhere else to go... but if he and his people surrender without a fight, they'll be treated fairly."

The Hunter Prime regarded him in confusion. "You... would still offer mercy? After all they... after all we've done to you and your people?"

Hrelle paused before responding. "Maybe I'm following Starfleet policy, for the mountains of reports I'll end up writing when this is over. Maybe I'm tired. I'm very, very tired of killing. There's been so much of it, and I'm sick of it."

"Yes, you are," Valtiri conceded softly. "But it's not all. Is it?"

"No." Hrelle breathed in. "I'm also driven by one of the Truths from the Great Mother: 'Mercy is at its most valuable when offered to those you least wish to accept it.'"

Valtiri grunted. "On Ferasa Prime, everything, every word of history, every work of art from before the Eugenics Era, was destroyed, replaced with propaganda. None of the wisdom of your Great Mother survives. Perhaps, when I am imprisoned again, I might have access to her words?" He paused. "Assuming I am not executed by your people?"

"I'll see you get a copy of the Book of Truths... and you won't be executed. I'll see to that, too. Send the message to Melem-Adu, before I change my mind."

*

Caitian System:

"Admiral! We're detecting Jem'Hadar vessels! Eighty or more Scarabs, en route from Cait!"

Tattok rose to his feet. "Alert the Task Force." The battle with the Ferasans had been rough. Despite their inferior weaponry and shields, the Ferasans superior numbers meant the fight was fierce... and the Task Force was not exactly at its best, having been fighting for months now in Betazed.

And now, the Jem'Hadar were coming to join their allies.

Tactically, every instinct told him to order a retreat.

Emotionally, every instinct told him to forge on ahead.

I do not believe in deities, but if there are any Q or other cosmic beings who are currently manipulating the events of mere mortals like us for their own amusement, then might I suggest a twist in the tale? This is the part of the story when the Good Guys could use some good luck... "Alert Starfleet Command of the situation, we're going to need reinforcements-"

"Wait, Admiral! The Jem'Hadar are veering away! Moving in a parabolic arc out towards the Archanis Sector, not us!"

The Roylan turned to his First Officer. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Sir!"

Well, it's nice of even having the illusion of being listened to every now and again... "And the status of the remaining Ferasans?"

"About twelve ships, now departing for deep space rather than remaining to fight, tractoring another six damaged ships along with them. Should we pursue?"

"Negative; alert Starfleet Command instead, of both the Ferasans and the Jem'Hadar, and tell them the battle is over, and the Task Force is proceeding to Cait to render whatever additional assistance we can."

*

In the Transporter Room of the Mother's Fury, a figure coalesced into view and stepped forward. "Petty Officer Ctuuri, reporting as ordered, Ma'am."

Ma'Sala straightened up formally. "Incorrect."

The young male blinked. "Ma'am?"

She smiled. "It's Ensign now, Cub. I received a report from Captain T'Varik and my niece on what you underwent to get to the Surefoot. A field promotion is the least I can do. Your father would be proud of you." She held out her paw.

The young male stiffened with shock, his tail unable to hide his emotions as he accepted her paw. "T-Thank you, Ma'am. I won't let you down."

Overhead, the intercom interrupted, "Fleet Captain, please report to the Bridge at once."

"I'm on my way." To Ctuuri she added, "Report to Lieutenant Mleen. You don't get a promotion without additional responsibilities."

On the Bridge, First Officer Commander Ksara turned to her. "Fleet Captain, we're thirty minutes from the Motherworld, but we've intercepted a transmission to Melem-Adu from Ferasa Prime, from the Patriarch himself."

Ma'Sala glanced around her, seeing the others trying not to be seen eavesdropping. "In my Ready Room."

They were barely alone before Ksara reported, "The Ferasans are preparing a Second Fleet of ships to come here and take over from Melem-Adu."