She sat in darkness with the deck, shuffling the cards with casual ease as she sang softly, lovingly to herself. “It’s time to play the music… it’s time to light the lights… it’s time to get things started, because it’s our Grand Opening Night…” She chuckled. “That rush of anticipation… the music… the crowds… the mayhem… Shall we see what to expect with the Tarot Club on Station Salem One?”
She set out the first Three Card Spread. “The Sun: success, celebration. The Six of Wands: victory, reward. And the Nine of Pentacles: fruits of labour, luxury. Oh, Brother, Dear Brother, your coffers will be full once again… at least, until your self-destructive hunger for gambling depletes them, once again.
But what about the poor people of Salem One? What can they expect from my efforts tonight?”
She set out the second Spread, making sounds of mock sorrow at the results. “The Five of Cups: loss, heartbreak. The Three of Swords: suffering, grief. And the Moon, Reversed: confusion, fear. Maybe Simon could purchase some lilies for the bereaved? Or are lilies poisonous to cats?
And, pray tell, what will our beloved Max Zorin bring when he finally joins us here?”
She set out the Third Spread. “The Wheel of Fortune, Reversed: loss of control, bad luck. The Ace of Swords, Reversed: confusion, brutality, disorder.
And… Death.”
She set aside the rest of the deck and picked up the Death card, contemplating it like the photo of an old lover. “I know, I know, we are never meant to take this one literally. It’s really about change, cycles, metamorphosis. It doesn’t have to be about actual death.
But where’s the fun in that?”
She kissed the card.
Come, Sweetheart. And while you come, I will spread Chaos out on the ground like a blanket, for the picnic.
Deck 1 - Commodore’s Quarters:
Kami emerged from the cubs’ bedroom, only having just settled Sreen down back into bed – this time ensuring the exoframe was completely switched off this time. Poor little thing, it must have been some nightmare. And to be honest, their little lives were so tumultuous, it was astounding that there weren’t more nights with bad dreams.
The door chimed as she was refilling her wine glass, and she carried her glass with her as she approached, wondering who would be visiting that time of night, when they could just send a comm- “Ange?”
Cadet Ange Boladede stood in the corridor, clearly livid with rage. A part of Kami had expected such a reaction to what he had undergone today; regardless of how much of it he had brought upon himself, it was natural to feel anger at being caught out. “Cadet, it’s not appropriate to come to my quarters-”
“Bitch.”
She glanced down, saw a phaser in his hand.
She instinctively tried to dodge and kick the weapon out of his grip.
She was quick.
He was quicker.
The energy bolt struck her, sending her flying backwards. Her wine glass shattered against a table leg and spilled shards and red liquid onto the carpet. She lay there, crumpled up, the clothes at her chest smouldering.
*
Boladede stood there, weapon still raised, not quite believing what he had just done. Not quite believing it was real.
Maybe it wasn’t real. He might have fallen asleep in his bunk earlier, and was dreaming all this. Yes. Yes, he would wake up soon, maybe socialise with the rest of Alpha Squad more than he had to date-
Kami coughed, sputtered. Brought him back to reality.
Bitch.
He had come looking for Commodore Hrelle. But this one would do.
He raised his weapon once more. He had cobbled the weapon together from spare parts, and the power cell was almost depleted, but there should have been enough charge left for one more shot, and if he delivered it point blank shot to the head, it would be enough.
He drew closer, bent down-
A roar distracted him, and he turned instinctively to fire at the object torpedoing at him.
He was quick.
Misha was quicker.
The pyjama-clad cub leapt onto Boladede, claws and fangs bared, raking the side of the cadet’s head and knocking aside the weapon arm with his leg, using a combat technique he had learned from Cousin C’Rash. The force of the impact sent them both backwards against the wall, as Misha continued the attack relentlessly, driven by an overriding ferocity.
Boladede finally flung him off, sending Misha flying into the nearest wall and landing on the desk, knocking over the terminal and books.
Blood seeping from the wounds on his head, Boladede clamped his hand over the wounds and staggered back out into the corridor, needing to take care of this… and to find an escape from this place.
*
Misha ignored the pain in his arm from hitting the wall, stumbling back to his mother. “Mama! Wake up! He’s gone! I protected you! MAMA!”
She lay there, spasming, her back and limbs cambering in pain.
He pressed the Alarm on the wall, but nothing happened!
He rushed out into the corridor, looked around, could smell the Bad Man in the air, but knew he was gone. He went to the nearest doors, banged on them, called for help, receiving no response. Stupid people!
He returned. He had to get help, he had to get Papa or Sasha or Mru or-
He had an idea, and raced up to Mama’s Starfleet jacket, taking off the combadge and bringing it over to Mama’s paw, letting her biometric signature activate it as he shouted at it, remembering all of the right commands to get attention. “Emergency! Red Alert! Intruder Alert! Medical Alert! Everything Alert!”
The voice of the Station Chief, Captain Kate Sternhagen, replied. “Who’s on Counselor Hrelle’s channel? Is that you, Misha?”
“Captain Kate! Mama needs help! A cadet shot her! I protected her! Please, get Papa, get Doc Cowboy!”
“Okay, Misha, you stay with her, help is coming!” Seconds later, Kate’s voice came over the station intercom. “Intruder Alert! Security Team to Deck 1! Medical Team to Commodore Hrelle’s Quarters!”
*
Deck 5 - Broadway:
Hrelle had stayed in Tarot long enough to meet and greet some of the newer station crew who had shown up for the opening of the new nightclub, before deciding to leave the younger patrons to it. He strolled alone with his thoughts: thoughts about the evolving situation in the Quadrant, thoughts about the recent battle the Katana fought with that Defiant-class vessel, thoughts about Sasha and Mru, who were growing closer and closer-
“Intruder Alert! Security Team to Deck 1! Medical Team to Commodore Hrelle’s Quarters!”
His combadge chirped for attention alongside Sternhagen’s announcement over the general intercom, but he was already running as he slapped it and reported, “I’m on my way!” He didn’t wait for the lifts but entered a nearby vertical Jefferies Tube, ascending quickly – noting fresh human scent and partial handprints from blood on the wall and ladder rungs, but not stopping or even slowing down to investigate further.
He emerged on Deck 1, finding Security crewmembers with phasers and tricorders, all of them sensibly stepping aside as he raced down the corridor, seeing Sternhagen with Station Security Chief Lt Cmdr Salvo standing outside his open doorway while he heard familiar, urgent voices within, and smelled more blood.
And ashen-looking Sternhagen held up a hand. “Esek-”
She barely avoided him torpedoing into her as he entered his quarters.
Doc Masterson and an Emergency Medical Team surrounded a fallen Kami on the blood-stained carpet stabilising her as they were loading her onto an antigrav gurney. Nearby, Misha stood, his pyjamas and fur matted with human blood, while Professor Tallus, Weynik’s mother and one of Salem One’s resident Station Scientists, stood beside him, keeping a supportive arm around the cub.
Hrelle said nothing, waiting for Masterson to look up long enough to report, “Phaser beam, cardiac and tissue damage to her heart but we have her on Bypass until we get her into surgery. We’ll keep you posted.”
As the team moved to raise Kami up, Hrelle’s heart sank at the sight of the life support module fitted onto his wife’s breastbone, and the scent of burnt fur and flesh, and he forced himself to not interfere further as he stepped aside to let them depart with her to the Hospital, while he approached his son, kneeling down, his eyes and nose confirming that none of the blood on Misha was his own. “Are you alright, Son?”
The cub nodded, though it was obvious he was slipping into shock over whatever had happened. Hrelle looked at Tallus, the Roylan explaining, “I was putting the grandkids to bed when I heard Misha pounding on our door, and then heard the alarm.”
“Thank you, Professor. Did you see anything?”
“No, Commodore, I’m sorry, if I had been quicker I might have seen who was responsible-”
“And you might have been shot as well.”
“I saw him!” Misha declared with sudden animation. “I fought the Bad Cadet! I saved Mama!”
Hrelle stiffened at his son’s declaration. “A cadet? A cadet did this? Who was it?” He smelled the blood, the same human blood he found in the Jefferies Tube. Then he heard Sreen stirring awake in the bedroom, and glanced over his shoulder. “Sternhagen! Salvo!” Then he looked up at Tallus again. “Can you go in to see Sreen, Professor? Keep her calm and quiet while we sort this out?”
“Of course, Commodore.”
As she nodded and departed into the bedroom, Sreen’s voice called out, “Mama! Papa! You get me, now!”
Hrelle’s heart twisted inside him as the door slid shut again, and he stroked Misha’s head gently, purring, hearing his senior officers enter and approach. His voice remained deliberately calm, measured, for Misha’s sake. “Report.”
Sternhagen responded first. “I’ve upgraded to General Quarters Three; after the Dragon Incident I wanted us to be ready. Shields are up, weapons online, but no ships are in the area, except for our own.”
“Someone disabled the Alarm and weapons sensors in your quarters,” Salvo continued. “And we found the weapon used by the attacker in the corner of the room, kitbashed from various phaser and disruptor parts. Based on the registration codes of some of the pieces, they were taken from-”
“-From one of the Security Labs on the Academy Deck,” Hrelle finished for her. “Misha says it was a cadet. Lieutenant Commander, run tricorder scans on the blood on my son’s clothes and fur before he washes and gets changed, and then check the database to identify Kami’s attacker.”
“That should not be difficult, from the damage your son inflicted,” the Nova Roman declared, kneeling down beside Misha and running her tricorder over him. “You saved your mother’s life. Salutations, Young Warrior.”
Misha nodded eagerly. “I protect Mama! I protected Mama on the Surefoot, too! I fought Jam Headers!”
“Jem’Hadar? You fought a Jem’Hadar?” The woman sounded mildly incredulous.
“No, he fought four Jem’Hadar,” Hrelle clarified, ignoring Salvo’s reaction to that news to add, “The cadet was in Jefferies Tube 4-7; the evidence there suggested he was descending, maybe to get to the Hangar Bay for one of the shuttles.” To Misha he asked, “Do you know who the cadet was?”
Misha shook her head.
“What did he look like?” Salvo asked.
Misha faced her. “Like you, and Eydiir, but no hair!” He touched the left side of his own head in several places. “I bit him here, and clawed him here, and made him drop his gun and run away! You go get him!”
“She will,” Hrelle assured him, looking at Sternhagen again. “Sasha and Mru were in the new club when I left them, they won’t have their combadges on them, send someone to get them here, on the double, they’ll stay here and watch over the cubs – with a Security team outside the door. Then we’ll get back to Ops.”
Sternhagen regarded him with concern. “You can go to the Hospital, Esek. You’re a husband.”
“I’m also the Station Commander. We have to find this cadet, whoever he is-”
“Boladede,” Salvo offered, reading from her tricorder. “Security Cadet Ange Boladede, Macbeth Squad.” She looked up in recognition. “This morning I assisted in the decryption of a personal device of his, as part of some sort of disciplinary measure involving the Counselor and Commander Haluk.”
“Disciplinary measure? What was on the device?”
Salvo glanced warily at Misha, who was still standing there, listening to all of this. “Not in front of your offspring, Commodore.”
Deck 5 - Tarot:
Mru Mori sat at the table alongside Eydiir Daughter-of-Kaas, the Salem One’s Chief Nurse and one of Sasha’s oldest friends, and Lt Cmdr Xan Maraud, the Chief JAG Officer, an Efrosian male with snow white hair and a confident, charming mien. Mru smiled to himself; the two of them were so obviously into each other, but the taciturn Capellan Eydiir constantly denied it, while Maraud noticed this and persisted in teasing her.
Mru said nothing, but thought back to when he was first introduced to Eydiir, and the warning she had given him the first time they were alone, to not break her friend’s heart. Watch yourself with this one, Mr Maraud. “Are they keeping you busy here with court cases and such, Lieutenant Commander?”
Maraud smiled. “Well, we’re no Starbase One, but I’m not sleeping all day in my office, either. Legal matters do arise, questions of interpretation of Starfleet Regulations requiring JAG expertise, and Commander Haluk has drafted me into lectures and class instruction for the Squabs. Nothing as exciting as the court martial that brought me here all those months ago-”
“It’s only been six weeks,” Eydiir corrected gruffly. “Your sense of timing is appalling.”
He leaned in closer to her, nudging her playfully. “That’s not always the case, Darling, and you know it.”
Mru saw the darkening of skin on the woman, though she only responded with, “Swine.”
Then the Caiitan caught a welcome scent, and turned to see Sasha manoeuvre her way through the surrounding crowds of patrons, without drinks but with a dour expression as she planted herself down onto the chair they had saved – deliberately moving it away from him and closer to the side of the table by her friend.
Mru studied her closely, curiously, noting the flushed cheeks and dilated pupils. Mother’s Cubs, had she broken her sobriety and drank some alcohol? He leaned closer. “Everything okay, Sash? Too busy at the bar?”
She glared at him now. “If you want a drink bad enough, maybe you should go for it yourself next time?”
Mru felt his hackles rise, and noted the reaction from the others at the table. He sniffed, imagining he could catch the scent of alcohol on her breath, though there was too much of it around them in this environment for him to properly determine. “Sash, can I have a word alone with you?”
“No.”
Before he or anyone else could respond, the music abruptly stopped, and an alert sounded, followed by Captain Sternhagen’s voice announcing, “Intruder Alert! Security to Deck 1! Medical Team to Commodore Hrelle’s Quarters!”
Sasha bolted to her feet – immediately looking like she regretted it, as she swayed with uncharacteristic clumsiness, knocking her chair back behind her. Mru and the others rose as well, Mru reaching for Sasha, before the woman pulled away, all of them heading to the exit, dodging everyone else who was returning to their quarters or their assigned stations during such alerts, bypassing the turbolifts to take the public accessway stairs.
They ran into Sternhagen and several Security crewmen, Sasha bolting up to her. “What happened?”
The older human female’s jaw tightened. “Counselor Hrelle was shot in her quarters.”
“It’s serious, but Doc Masterson’s with her.”
“Who shot her?” Sasha repeated sharply.
Sternhagen steeled herself. “Talk to your father, he’s in there with the cubs, he needs you.” As Sasha moved around her, Mru followed, hearing the Station Master speak to the others. “Masterson might need you in the Hospital, Chief Nurse. Mr Maraud, report to your office and stand by, you shouldn’t be at the crime scene.”
He smelled the blood as he entered the quarters, saw the evidence, the wrecked furniture, and Commodore Hrelle kneeling beside a blood-stained Misha. He held back, letting Sasha join her family… but listened anyway, and seeing Hrelle’s reaction to the alcohol on Sasha’s breath, but obviously saying nothing, all of them having more important things to focus on.
Seven Hells, who could have wanted to kill the Counselor, of all people?
*
Lt Zir Dassene sat on the couch, not touching the beer in her hand, the Orion woman trying to appear undistracted as her friends comprising most of Alpha Squad sat in Peter Boone’s quarters, drinking and eating snacks and being careful not to wake Peter’s daughter Abby, asleep in her adjacent bedroom.
The others didn’t seem to notice, Astrid Michel, currently the Chief Flight Officer onboard the Surefoot under Captain T’Varik, leaning back in her chair and smiling like a cat at the cream as she continued her anecdote. “So there we were, running a customs inspection on a Rigellian freighter heading for Nepenthe, and a certain foul-mouthed Assistant Chief Engineer had gone over with an Away Team to check on the environmental protocols for their engine and propulsion systems-”
Sitting nearby, Tori Emoto scowled as the young Asian woman nursed her beer. “Don’t, Flygirl. Just don’t.”
“On the contrary, do, Flygirl, just do,” Stalac, their Horta friend, sat on the floor indulging in a tray of enriched pergium nuggets, digesting them with carefully-applied acidic secretions.
“You keep your cakehole shut, Rockstar, nothing happened! Petey, you talk for a change! You gotta have some spicy stories to tell us about all the dicks you’ve had here!”
Peter grinned, reaching for a handful of corn nuts. “I never kiss and tell. You were saying, Astrid?”
The coffee-skinned woman grinned as well. “Yes, so there we were, on the Bridge, remote monitoring the activities of the Away Teams, when suddenly we get this horrendous shriek, like someone had been turned inside out. And it came from our Gearhead here-”
“Seriously, Flygirl,” Tori warned, “I’ll drop the temperature in your quarters so much your nipples’ll cut neutronium.”
Astrid chuckled. “Then I’ll just bunk up with the very delectable Giles Arrington to keep me warm. Anyway, Captain T’Varik ordered an emergency beam-out, and onto the Bridge. And so she appeared… along with about fifty or sixty Tribbles.”
“Tribbles?” Peter echoed.
“Yes, tribbles. Apparently the Rigellians were smuggling a consignment of unsterilised tribbles to breed on Nepenthe for their meat, and when we intercepted them to run the inspection, they hid the tribbles in a shielded auxiliary transkinetic chamber, hoping none of us would be thorough enough look in there.” She let her grin widen. “But clearly they hadn’t reckoned on our intrepid little Gearhead.”
“She opened one of the chamber access doors,” Astrid continued relentlessly, “A lower one. And all these tribbles rained down upon her and scared her half to death. All these cute, cuddly, harmless little bundles of love.”
“Bundles of mites and fleas and worms and other parasites!” Tori corrected, snarling at the continued laughter. “And they were fat! It was like being pelted with dynospanners!” She looked to Zir. “Hey, are you gonna let them push me around, Lieutenant?”
The laughter died, as the others focused on Zir now, Peter enquiring, “What’s up, Zir?”
She looked up at them, mentally kicking herself for allowing her private problems to affect her time with her friends. “Sorry, guys, got a lot on my mind: Urad, the crisis in the Sector, the Commodore-”
“You take too much upon yourself,” Stalac noted. “You Carbs break too easily.”
“He’s right,” Peter agreed. “You need to relax more.”
“Maybe get yourself a pet?” Astrid suggested. “Something soft and warm and furry. Any ideas on that, Tori?”
“Yeah, I got ideas, like lodging my boot in your c-”
Then the alarm sounded, and Sternhagen’s voice filled the air. “Intruder Alert! Security Team to Deck 1! Medical Team to Commodore Hrelle’s Quarters!”
Zir cast aside her drink and shot to her feet, snapping aside her fears and distractions. “Stay here, you’re all off duty!”
“So are you,” Peter pointed out, sounding genuinely concerned.
She cast that aside and departed, banging her shoulder against the door when it didn’t open up. There was far more on her mind than what she had admitted to her friends, but none of that mattered now, as she slapped her combadge. “Ops, this is Lt Dassene, report!”
An unfamiliar male voice answered, “We have reports of Counselor Hrelle being attacked in her quarters, Leftenant.”
She stopped in her tracks, recognising the voice as the new Intelligence Officer, Commander Somerset, but stunned by the news. Kami, attacked? The Commodore would need Zir. “I’m heading there.”
“Negative, Leftenant. Report to Ops.”
She frowned now. “Excuse me?”
“Captain Sternhagen and Lt Cmdr Salvo are already there, and I’ve been left holding the proverbial fort here on my first day. You can best serve Commodore Hrelle here by helping me keep everything running.”
Zir almost proceeded to argue with him – yes, Zir, because that would look good for you – before yielding to the logic of the situation. “I’m on my way, Sir.”
Cadet Squad Leader Rachel Nash’s heart was racing as she and the rest of the cadets in Tarot fled the club at the sound of the Alert to return to Deck 5 and their quarters, her mind racing ahead to wonder what was going on. A Medical team to the Commodore’s quarters? What had happened? Was it another attack from an assassin like the Dragon?
They entered, fully expecting Ange Boladede, whom they‘d left in their earlier while they visited the new club, to be standing at attention, the pinnacle of discipline as always. But he wasn’t there. “Ange?”
“Maybe he’s asleep?” Flight Ops Cadet Janusz Spychalski, a lithe, sandy-haired Terran male with an aquiline nose, quipped.
“Or he’s just busy polishing his phaser?” Engineering Cadet Gela, a short, salmon-pink Ferengi, chuckled lasciviously. “Let’s give him a few more minutes to clean up the damp patch.”
Medical Cadet Denek, a slim Vulcan female with tanned olive skin and a sable ponytail, raised an eyebrow. “You continue to astound me with your levels of crudity.”
“Thanks!”
Nash grunted, looking to Science Cadet C’Riir, a tall, slim, sepia-furred Caitian male. “Go in, see if he’s… asleep.”
C’Riir nodded, departed – but immediately stopped in the doorway. “He’s gone.”
“What?” Spychalski exclaimed. “The Golem never goes out!”
“He’s probably in the gym,” Gela joked, “Working out a hundred new ways of killing someone with just his big toe.”
Their quarter doors slid open without preamble, and Lt Cmdr Dona Idrisi, Commander Haluk’s Academy Adjutant, strode in. She was an older Terran female, originally from the Indian island state of Madripoor, a statuesque woman whose uniform also sported a modified hijab to reflect her faith – though now, tonight, her most noteworthy feature was the intensity of her expression. Rachel was about to call Macbeth Squad to attention, but Idrisi didn’t give her time, moving up to her and demanding, “Where is Cadet Boladede?”
“Did he talk to you about his intentions? His state of mind?” Idrisi glanced around severely. “Did he talk to any of you?”
“No, Ma’am,” Rachel answered for all of them. “He had something on his mind when I last saw him-”
“When was this?”
Her manner triggered a growing alarm within Rachel, but she kept composed enough to reply, “2100 Hours, Ma’am. I left him lying in his bunk.”
“And none of you suspected anything might be wrong?” Idrisi sounded almost incredulous.
“N-No, Ma’am-”
The older Terran stepped back, calling outside, “Crewmen!”
The door slid open again, and two Security crewmen entered with tricorders, pushing past the cadets to enter the sleeping quarters, the whirr of the scanning devices silencing as the door slid shut. Rachel looked back at Idrisi. “Ma’am, what’s happened to Ange?”
The Adjutant seemed to regard her coldly, before replying, “Cadet Boladede has allegedly attempted to murder Counselor Hrelle in her quarters tonight.”
The announcement seemed to make time itself freeze, until Rachel found her voice again. “Is she- Will she be okay?”
“I believe Counselor Hrelle will eventually recover,” Idrisi replied. “Thanks to the intervention of her son, who drove off Cadet Boladede before he could complete his act.”
“What?” Gela exclaimed. “He drove Boladede off? But that furry little punk’s smaller than me!”
“He’s Caitian,” C’Riir reminded him soberly. “And a Caitian in defence of their family is fierce beyond measure, no matter their size.”
Idrisi turned as the Security crewmen emerged from the sleeping quarters. “Report.”
“Nothing, Lieutenant Commander. Scans confirm a human was in the room as of at least an hour ago, but not since. No weapons or communication devices, nothing hidden.”
Idrisi nodded and allowed them to leave, before looking at the remains of Macbeth Squad. “Should any of you recall anything that might be of use, inform me.”
She started to leave, but C’Riir stepped forward. “Ma’am, you need to find Ange-”
“He is being sought now, Cadet. And before any of you offer to join the search teams, the answer is No. Deck 5 is on Lockdown until further notice, in case this is part of a larger assault on the station, and all cadets are to remain here.”
Then Idrisi left, clearly no longer willing to discuss the matter further.
Rachel looked around at her squadmates, Spychalski looking pale. “What the Hell happened? Why would Ange want to kill the Counselor, of all people?”
Gela shook his head. “Bloodthirsty. Like most hyoo-mans.”
“Hey!”
The Ferengi shrugged unapologetically. “Come on, apart from Klingons, who else would willingly train themselves to get into fights if they weren’t already half-savage?”
“That’s enough,” C’Riir chided numbly, with none of the usual light level of banter he normally exhibited with his friend. “This is serious.” He looked at Rachel with concern. “Was this our fault, Rache? For alerting Counselor Boone?”
She shook her head hurriedly. “No, no- we did what we thought was right- he wouldn’t open up to us-” Unless he was planning to tonight, and I didn’t take the hint and stop and maybe even talk him out of whatever madness he did tonight-
“What the Hell is going on?” Spychalski demanded, looking at both of them. “What do you know?”
“It wasn’t concealment,” Rachel corrected, though she only half-believed herself. “It was discretion. Ange had… issues.”
“No kidding,” Gela muttered.
*
Deck R1 - Operations:
It was a truism that Caitian hearing was superlative, hence their initial utility in Starfleet in Communications, Operations and Linguistics. And Hrelle used it to its full advantage in Security and Tactical situations, tracking prey, or even just listening clearly to a dozen different reports or more, even those not directed at him.
It served him well, and people who worked with him knew it, hence no one commenting on him switching on the audio monitor to the Hospital to keep abreast of the efforts to treat Kami. It was a comfort more than a need – he knew that she would recover, fully, and that his place was here – and let him focus on the things he had control over. “Where’s that report from Deck 8?”
Nearby, Sternhagen didn’t glance up from her display. “One moment, Sir, there’s conflicting reports from Jupiter Team scanning the Labs-”
“Unconflict them! We need to get the cargo decks cleared! Salvo! Can’t your people perform a simple sweep?”
The Nova Roman straightened up formally, her expression as crisp as her accent. “Traditionally the labs with their high-energy equipment cause problems with scanning equipment, Commodore. And there seems to be contradictory reports from Security crewmen in different places-”
“Esek?”
Hrelle turned, watching Weynik enter. He remembered the last time they had spoken… or rather, argued, earlier that day, with Weynik making Hrelle’s foul mood with the news from the rest of the sector even fouler, with all his talk about being reassigned. Hrelle had recognised that his close friend of many years had still been reeling from his recent space battle, and he had tried to be patient and reasonable with him. But if he had come back for Round Two... “What do you want?”
The diminutive veteran officer stood formally before him, the Roylan’s ossified aquamarine face leaving his beady black eyes to reflect his emotions. “I’ve heard about what happened to Kami. How is she? Who’s responsible?”
Hrelle paused, still hearing the transmission in the background. “They’re still working on her. She was attacked by a cadet wanting revenge over being confronted by her and punished for a crime. We’re still looking for him.” After a moment, he added, “We could use your help.”
Weynik straightened up more. “Whatever you need, you’ve got.”
Hrelle nodded in appreciation and led him over to the holographic tactical display of the station, indicating several areas. “Salvo, Captain Weynik will take command of Jupiter Team, I want Deck 8 cleared-”
“Sir,” his Security Chief protested. “They are performing as best as they can, with our reduced numbers-”
“I believe you, Lieutenant Commander, but we still have a fugitive down there, somehow evading our internal sensors despite being wounded.” He looked down at Weynik again. “Once Deck 8 is secured, join up with Neptune Team and move down to the Cargo Decks. If you can get any of the off-duty Katana crew to join our teams-”
“Of course. What about Sasha and Mru?”
“They’re in my quarters, keeping guard over Misha and Sreen, in case this isn’t an isolated incident. Misha attacked Cadet Boladede and drove him off, left him badly injured.”
Weynik grunted angrily. “Well, with any luck, we’ll find the bastard dead from his injuries.”
“Stow that; my son is too young to be a killer. I want the cadet captured so he can get medical attention… and can spend a long, long time in the stockade. Get going.”
His friend bristled at the reaction, but quickly responded, “Aye, Sir.”
Hrelle let him depart, turning to a map beyond the display. “What’s that?”
Nearby, Somerset straightened up and approached. “The al-Razi, Commodore; they intercepted a private yacht being attacked by raiders. The raiders and the yacht were destroyed, but they rescued the passengers and crew and are transporting them here.”
“A yacht? Who in the Seven Hells is running a yacht out here?”
Then he saw the change in Somerset’s expression, something he’d seen plenty of times. “The Disco Volante, registered as an auxiliary craft to the starliner Moonraker, owned by-”
“Max Zorin.”
“Yes, Sir; Zorin was onboard during the attack, along with a party of journalists out to see the demonstration of his new Whatsit; Captain Arrington reported Zorin speculated that he was the victim of an attempted abduction for ransom purposes. I’m studying the data she sent with her report.”
Hrelle growled; now he would get to meet the bastard in the flesh. He focused on Somerset fully. “What about Boladede? Anything in his record?”
The human raised an eyebrow. “Nothing, Sir. His past prior to joining Starfleet Academy was clear and verifiable: his family run a private interstellar security firm; I’ve even worked peripherally with several of their operatives on some assignments. His Academy record has been exemplary… beyond the incident logged on his record earlier this morning by Commander Haluk and Counselor Hrelle.” He flushed slightly. “I believe Lt Cmdr Salvo made you aware of the details involving what the cadet had collected about your daughter-”
Hrelle growled.
Somerset cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I’m continuing my investigations-”
“Zorin.”
“Sir?”
“What do you think are the chances that his coming here is just coincidental?”
The human’s expression tightened. “This is not my first time dealing with activities involving Zorin, Commodore. Rest assured, I have learned enough about him not to underestimate him.”
“Then I’ll let you get back to your work.” Hrelle turned back to the display as Somerset departed. “Zir.”
The young Orion woman rushed up to him. “Can I get you something, Sir? Some food or coffee-”
“No thank you. Contact Dr Vestri, the Katana’s Counselor. We’ll need someone to take over for Kami while she recovers… and someone to assess Misha as soon as possible, after seeing his mother like that and driving off her attacker.”
“Of course, Sir.”
“And contact Commissioner Nam-Seon, inform her of the imminent arrival of the al-Razi with Zorin and his party. She’ll want to represent the Federation and meet Zorin. Certainly more than I do.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Oh, and arrange for a priority subspace channel to Cait for the morning, so I can inform the Clan about what happened… hopefully by then we’ll have definite news on her condition, and I might get a catnap beforehand. No joke intended.”
“Of course not, Sir.”
“And you can do all that from your quarters… you’re dismissed for the night.”
“Sir, you need-”
“I need someone alert and fresh to cover for me over the next couple of days when I want to be with my wife in Hospital: rerouting meetings, appointments. And I’m really not in the mood for further arguments, Lieutenant, is that clear?”
Zir nodded, her skin darkening. “Yes, Sir.”
He regarded her, detecting the anxiety in her scent. “She’ll be okay, Zir.”
She nodded, hesitantly. “Of course, Sir.”
He turned back, hearing her finally depart, even as a part of him was elsewhere. Kami, I’m so sorry. I should have stayed in with you, should have insisted, if I’d been there-
If wishes were shurises, Esek, we’d all feast.
Dec 3 - Hospital:
Urad Kaldron stood at the doorway to his room, looking across at the operating theatre where he had seen them transport the Counselor. No. No, not you. You must live. You are so kind, so compassionate. I may be beyond help, but you have helped so many others. If only there was something I could do-
“Coward.”
He turned back, the massive Hroch pachydermoid’s eyes bulging in atavistic dread at the return of Suditi, the Goddess of his people’s religion, She stood there, dressed in the ancient ceremonial robes and gold, clasping the maapak, the gold measuring staff that help the first civilisations set standards for building walls, buildings, temples, whole cities. Suditi judged those before Her, praising… or condemning. Nothing was hidden from Her. She pointed the maapak at him. “Suditi judges thee Coward.”
His heart raced. No. No, this was a delusion, just as it was when She appeared before him earlier tonight, taunting him for his fearful state. “You- You’re not real-”
“Blasphemer.”
He drew back inside his room – his self-imposed prison, since his injuries fighting the Dragon – as if to keep anyone outside from entering. He had been doing better, the classes the good Comrade Counselor had suggested helped with his hands, and his confidence, and it had been good to see his family, and Dearest Comrade Tori and his other friends in Alpha Squad. He wished they were here, to help him banish away this nightmare-
“Coward,” She strode forward – how could a delusion seem so real? – Her accusing eyes ever fixed on him. “Because of your timidity, the Counselor was almost killed. She probably will die.”
“N-No-”
“No!”
“Yes. You know it. I know it. Better to end this miserable parody of your life, and be done with it. Your family and friends will be all the better for it-”
He stormed outside.
Suditi stood there, watching him depart, then muttered, “Well, that was unexpected.”
Then the Hroch mythical figure morphed into a Medical Technician Robert Furlough, intercepting Nurse William Sargent. “Bill! Dr Welby wants you to recheck the gravimetric fields in Ensign Kaldron’s room right now, she’s worried about long-term bone damage.”
Sargent frowned, indicating the tray of containers in his hand. “Now? I have to get this extra plasma to Masterson for the Counselor!”
Furlough smiled and took the tray from him. “I’ll take it, I’m going in there anyway, he’s been moaning about a buzz coming from the sterile field. Two birds, one stone, right?”
Sargent seemed ready to argue further, but then shook his head in resignation. “Fine, all in a day’s work, right?”
Furlough chuckled good-naturedly, leaving Sargent behind and turning a corner, so no one can see him deposit the plasma into a medical disposal unit, before leaving. “All in a day’s work.”
Sasha sat at her brother’s bedside, amazed at how easily he fell asleep after all he’d been through. Yeah, Baby Bro, I’m envious as all Hell. She had cleaned him up and packaged the bloodied pyjamas in an evidence bag, before making him a soft warm sweet tea and sitting with him in the dark until he drifted away. Then she checked on Sreen, content from the snoring that her little sister would be okay… at least, until they woke up the next morning looking for Mama Kam.
She emerged into the living room, seeing Mru on all fours, removing the blood stains from the floor and furniture with a maintenance tool he found somewhere. “Who said you could do that? They need the evidence.”
“They’ve taken it,” he informed her, his back to her, his tail raised slightly. “I was cleared to do this, so the cubs don’t see this in the morning.”
She grunted. Making yourself at home, huh? Kissing Papa Cat’s tail? Then she breathed in, trying to compose herself, though she was still reeling from the events of tonight – and the cause. Boladede? What the frick is wrong with you, you bastard? “I’ll finish that.”
“It’s okay, I’m almost done.”
“This isn’t your family!”
Mru stopped and rose, setting aside the cleaning tools and facing her. “Sash, what happened tonight? Why did you break your sobriety?”
Anger rose within her; she didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to get into it, not now. It was over; first Kami drops that bombshell on her in the club, and then she comes back and gets shot by some prick with a sick fixation. “I don’t want to talk! Just don’t worry about me! Kami warned me, I won’t bother you!”
“What? What are you talking about? Why are you speaking to me like this?”
“Will you just shut the f-” She bit off the rest of her vitriol, frowning now in confusion, before looking back at him. “How long did it take us to get here from the club?”
The Caitian frowned back, as if doubting her sanity. “You can’t be that intoxicated-”
“Answer me!”
Mru regarded her, before finally responding with, “About two minutes, and we were running, taking the stairs-”
Sasha moved to the room’s intercom. “Lt Cmdr Hrelle to Commodore Hrelle!”
The concern in her father’s voice practically reached out through the speaker to her. “Sash! What’s wrong? There’s Security at the end of the corridor!”
“No, Dad, nothing like that! I ran into Kami in the club, just minutes before Misha called for help!”
A pause, and then he protested, “That’s not possible, Sash. She was staying in tonight, and she wouldn’t have left the cubs unattended. Are you sure you’re not… mistaken?”
She felt her face flush. “No, I’m not mistaken, and I’m not drunk either! She was there… and now that I think about it, she wasn’t herself. Maybe not literally!”
Another pause, and then he concluded, “Thanks, we’ll bear that in mind.”
“Wait, what about Boladede? Haven’t you caught him yet? And what about Kami? How’s she doing?”
“Both are still being worked on. Stay there. Hrelle out.”
“Sasha,” Mru began. “What are you thinking? What’s going on?”
She turned and moved to the wall locker, an unobtrusive panel with a discrete keypad, and entered a combination, sliding open the panel and retrieving a phaser, slapping it onto her hip. She threw another to him. “Stay here, keep an eye on the cubs.”
“What? Where are you going?”
“To help find Boladede.”
“And do what? Punish him for what he did to Kami? Or for those nasty things your father said he’d had on his device-”
She felt her face flush again. “To get him alive and unharmed, to find out why he did it. He might respond better if it’s me.” She headed to the door.
“You’re leaving me here alone to watch over Misha and Sreen?”
She stopped as the door slid open. “Do I need to make it an order, Lieutenant?”
The Caitian male bristled, his tail snapping behind him. “No, Ma’am. You don’t. You know I’d protect them with my life if necessary, even without you pulling rank.”
A sharp knife twisted in her – what are you doing to him, Sash? – but she wasn’t ready to confront him just yet. “Good.”
Then she left.
*
Hrelle stood, staring at a nearby wall, as if it held the answers he sought. Could Sasha have something there? Yes, she had for some reason fallen off the proverbial wagon earlier and had been intoxicated to some degree when he last saw her, but… he turned back to the rest of the Ops staff. “Run a check on any public sightings of Counselor Hrelle after 1800 Hours tonight.”
Sternhagen and Salvo wore expressions of various bemusement, Sternhagen leading with, “What the Hell for, Esek?”
“Because she was alone with the cubs in our quarters by then, and wouldn’t have left, but she apparently visited the new club and talked with Sasha.”
“An imposter?”
“I don’t know… hence my orders.”
She shrugged, looking at Somerset. “Sounds like something suitably cloak and daggery for you, Oliver Twist.”
He raised an eyebrow, but nodded and proceeded.
“Commodore?”
Hrelle turned, seeing the unexpected figure of Urad Kaldron, still dressed in civilian clothes, but looking more animated than when Hrelle had last seen him. “Ensign? You’re on Medical Leave. Why are you here?”
His use of Urad’s rank made the pachydermoid straighten up more formally. “Because, Sir… I am needed. And I have grown weary of locking myself away. How may I be of service?”
Hrelle regarded him, wondering if he should just thank the young officer for his offer and send him back to the Hospital; he was technically still on Medical Leave after all. As if that ever stopped you during a crisis, Esek.
Instead, he nodded. “Get back in uniform, and join Mars Team on the Recreation Deck.”
“Aye, Sir.” There was a continued look of apprehension in Urad’s eyes, but also gratitude, as he departed.
Hrelle turned away again. You did wonders for him, Kami. Like you did for me, when I was at my lowest. You’d better get better, because there’s a whole Galaxy of similar broken souls needing your help.
Boladede pressed the teraplast patch, normally used for emergency sealing for hull or conduit breaches, against the side of his head until its borders activated and bound to his skin. It covered his left ear and restricted his jaw, but it would do until he acquired a first aid kit. That little animal of the Counselor’s may have injured him, but at least now he would stop leaving a blood trail behind him until he effected an escape.
He continued his descent, past the Hangar Bay and the Auxiliary Command deck to the Storage Batteries, knowing the high-energy fields there would augment the sensor cover he was providing himself with the masking tool he’d furnished from a Security tricorder and an Engineering sensor wand.
Bastards. All of them. He had given of himself so much, had offered Starfleet so much potential. And they threw his offer back in his face, because of a minor, almost insignificant character flaw on his part.
What happened to that bitch Counselor was her own fault, really.
Well, that’s fine. He’ll escape, offer his services to whomever could appreciate him.
It was the escape itself that would be the trick… he accessed a nearby workstation, using codes of his own devising to break the higher encryptions and access the Security updates on their search for him, as well as the status of the vessels within or nearby the station. If one was close enough, he could beam over secretly, disguising the carrier wave using a subspace sensor sweep from the station’s array-
A sound made him turn, raising his back-up phaser at the bottom of the vertical shaft he had just emerged from. Stupid fool! He should have taken the time to recharge his weapon while he was down here!
Cautiously he approached, listening carefully. The Security crew were following the standard sweep patterns, but someone must have dropped something from further up. If you were a cadet, you’d have been penalised heavily for such a blunder-
He leaned in, weapon arm first, aiming his phaser upwards as he peered up the long shaft – seeing nothing, hearing nothing.
He looked down, noticed a small round metal object – some mechanical spare part or connection-
An earring? Who would wear an earring down here, let alone lose one?
They wouldn’t.
But if it was deliberately dropped, or thrown, as a distraction-
“Cadet.”
Boladede spun, eyes wide, weapon raised again.
Lt Cmdr Hrelle, clad in civilian gear, faced him, using the side of a doorway for cover, her own phaser raised at him. Her eyes remained open, unblinking, fixed on him. “Drop it.”
He froze, panic vying with anger, and humiliation… but he would not let himself look vulnerable. Not in front of her. “Well done, Lieutenant Commander. How did you know where to find me? And then get your earring to drop on its own and distract me while you made your way through from the other shaft?”
“Get rid of the weapon and I’ll tell you.”
He kept staring at her… remembering the images of her he had generated for his own pleasure, and his humiliation swelled up in him… and the taunts from the Counselor about Lt Cmdr Hrelle’s reaction on hearing of it. “Lieutenant Commander- the files I had of you- no one else would have seen them, if Counselor Boone hadn’t interfered-”
Her grip on her phaser tightened, as did her darkening expression. “Cadet… I don’t care about that. I do care that you tried to kill a woman I consider a second mother.
I care about that a big fucking deal.
Why? Why would you do that? She has only ever tried to help others-”
“LIES!” Anger galvanised his limbs at the woman’s lies. “Everyone says that about her! The Wise and Wonderful Counselor! But I saw the true woman tonight! Heard her taunts, her promises about how I would never be allowed to stay in Starfleet! About conspiring with you and your father to drive me out! It’s not fair!”
She frowned at him, hesitating. “Wait- when did you see her tonight?”
“What does it matter?” he snarled through clenched teeth.
Then she lowered her weapon, if only slightly. “She stayed behind in her quarters with the cubs while the rest of us went to the opening of the new club. Then I saw her there, not acting like her usual self. She would never have left Misha and Sreen unattended.” She held up her other hand, in a conciliatory gesture. “Cadet… Ange… Kami would never be cruel to anyone. Something’s going on, and if you put down the phaser and come back with me-”
Both of them then reacted to noise behind Sasha, as Captain Weynik and several Security crewmen emerged from the nearby turbolift, the short Roylan startled by Sasha’s presence. “Bloody Hemra-” Then he regained his composure. “Cadet Boladede, you’re under arrest for the attempted murder of Counselor Kami Hrelle! Put down your weapon and surrender!”
Yes, there it was. He wouldn’t escape, and their weapons were assuredly set on Stun. He would live, and suffer, and face his disgrace and humiliation, hour after hour, day after day, for the rest of a long and miserable life.
No.
Without hesitation, he brought the tip of his phaser under his chin.
“DON’T!” Sasha shouted at him, horror in her eyes.
It was the last thing he saw and heard, before darkness and pain enveloped him...
Deck 3 - Civilian Quarters Section:
Simon Latrelle sat cross-legged on the floor, trying to focus. He didn’t want to use the device sitting beside him; it was too easy, too convenient, it was addiction-inducing, and he preferred to achieve what he wanted through tried and true methods. But this mission was too detailed, too exhausting. He couldn’t enter into the desired state of mind so quickly or easily now.
Nearby, Billie Holliday crooned to him, attempting to soothe his spirit. She wasn’t helping.
“Computer: Music Off.”
He opened his eyes and reached out for the delta wave inducer, unfolded the wings on the device and lifted it up to his forehead, pressing the wings against his temples. The inducer came to life on contact with his skin, and he opened his mind-
“I never understood your love for that grating bitch, Simon.”
“I know,” he reminded her. “I know everything you know.”
She smiled. “You know everything I let you know. We only exist simultaneously here. Otherwise, you sleep, I wake, and work my fingers to the bone, and make you lots of money-”
“Lots of chaos. Lots of trouble. You always have, from when I was a kid-”
“Brother, I’ve love to walk down Memory Lane, but I really do have work to do- we don’t want to disappoint Bastien, do we?”
He shook his head. “It’s too much- you’re doing too much, taking too much of me- even when I’m sleeping, it’s killing me- and I can’t keep putting myself under with the inducer-”
He felt her hands on his shoulders – or at least, the mental equivalent of it. “Stop fighting me. Let me out just a few more times, and before you know it, we’ll be away from here, with a rejuvenated account.”
He turned to face her again, steeling himself. “I won’t let you kill. I never have, and I never will.”
Simone smirked. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t feel those shackles on me? Don’t worry, Cherie, I don’t have to kill. The right face, saying the right words, in the right places and at the right times, and they’re more than happy to kill themselves, or each other…”
*
Hospital:
Sasha stood at Kami’s bedside. Along the way, she had heard the conversations between Lt Salvo and her Security Team and Dr Masterson and his Medical Team, arguing over the security arrangements for Boladede, currently on a medical bed, his head encased with a cellular regenerative unit to repair the damage he inflicted on himself with his weapon.
Sasha didn’t care about that.
Her head pounded, her body clenched in a tight dehydrated state that left her feeling like a fruit left in the sun for too long. She’d had that drink – no, two drinks – and nothing to eat, before things went to the Seven Hells, with the news of the attack on Kami, and Misha savagely driving away her would-be assassin. Good for you, Little Brother. She’d argued with Mru, ran off to find Boladede, watched the blue beam light up his head like a Jack O’Lantern as he tried and failed to commit suicide. Shock and fatigue suffused her.
Sasha didn’t care about that, either.
She stayed focused on the Caitian female in this private room, lying on her side in the bed, the bioreadings overhead monitoring her lifesigns. This woman… this wonderful woman shouldn’t be here. She should be at home, resting up after a long, rewarding day of helping people, with Dad taking care of her, the way he took care of Sasha’s mother when they were married-
She started at the hypospray being pressed into her neck by Eydiir, the taciturn Capellan offering no explanation. Sasha felt her aches ease and her head clear, but still asked, “What the frick was in that?”
The Chief Nurse set the hypospray on a nearby tray. “Electrolytes, anaprovaline… and some detoxicants to counter your alcohol intake tonight. Your body will not be accustomed to it after so long without alcohol.”
Sasha glared at her indignantly. “Does Doc Cowboy let you get away with making assumptions like that?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never made assumptions.” She faced Sasha directly. “You are my Sister, and I do not judge you. I know something happened tonight, even before the incident with the Counselor. I am available to you any time.”
Sasha took in the offer, and nodded appreciatively, even if she couldn’t voice it, and turned back to Kami. “She’ll be okay?”
Eydiir nodded, resting a hand on Sasha’s arm. “The damage was repaired, nothing we couldn’t handle, but she’ll need time to recover-”
The door behind them slid open, and Sasha turned to see her Dad walk in, drawing up to Kami, tentatively approaching as if careful not to wake her, Sasha watching him take in her scent, before delicately covering an exposed shoulder with her bedsheet, and stroking her short mane.
Sasha felt the gentle, powerful intimacy between the couple, without any words being spoken. She remembered her initial resentment years ago, after hearing of their wedding plans, Sasha believing that he was betraying the memory of Mom by remarrying. That seemed a lifetime ago now. Finally she offered, “We’ll leave you two-”
“Eydiir,” he growled, “Would you give my daughter and I some privacy, please?”
The Chief Nurse raised her chain, squeezing Sasha’s arm supportively as she replied, “Yes, Sir.”
Sasha watched her leave, before turning back to Dad. “Dad-”
He kept his back to her, his tail still, his voice taut and dangerous as a razor wire, one that sent an unaccustomed chill down her spine. “I left you in our quarters tonight to be with your brother and sister. To watch them. To comfort them. To protect them. You abandoned that duty. You abandoned them.”
Sasha felt her face burn at the accusation… one that was completely inarguable. “Dad-”
“Your little brother,” he continued, “Saw his mother lying in a pool of her own blood, and without hesitation attacked her would-be murderer, drawing blood himself. What if he wakes up, needing reassurance, support, with his parents absent?”
“Mru is there-”
“Mru is a fine officer, and a fine male, and I would trust him with much, including my cubs.” Now he looked over his shoulder at her. “But I didn’t ask him to stay. I asked you.”
She swallowed, shame twisting her insides. “Dad-”
“The attack on Kami may have been part of a larger assault on us. They may have come back to deal with the cubs… and Mru would have been left alone to face them, without your experience, or training as either a Starfleet senior officer or a Kaetini warrior. So what happened? Were you too inebriated to think straight?”
Sasha’s jaw tightened. “I wasn’t- I wasn’t drunk. Yes, I- I fell off the wagon- but that wasn’t my fault-”
“‘Own Your Responses’,” he cut in sharply… baring his teeth, his eyes narrowing. “Isn’t that what you were taught? That you may not be responsible for what drove you to be an addict… but you are responsible for how you react to it.”
“I know!” she snapped, the emotions welling up inside her, threatening to burst forth. “It’s just- Kami came to the club, told me that I should just go ahead and drink, because Mru would never accept my proposal-”
He started. “Wait, wait- you asked him to marry you?”
“No, Dad, I mean, being married in general- having his cubs- he’s not-”
He drew up close to her, his eyes saucering. “YOU’RE HAVING HIS CUBS?” He began sniffing around her.
She drew back, stepping back and holding up her hands as she raised her voice. “Jesus, Dad, no, I’m not, so stop checking me for a change of hormones! I’m not marrying or having kids with anyone, ever! No one would be stupid enough to hook up with an emotional wreck like me!”
Her outburst drew him sharply, as if struck, any anger he had for her before transported instantly away. “Sasha… no, don’t say that-”
“Why not? Kami said as much tonight!”
He raised a finger at her, his expression tightening. “No. No, Kami would never say that to you. You warned me yourself that she was at the club, and we both know she wouldn’t have gone and left the cubs alone!”
“Yeah, well, regardless, maybe there was some truth to what was said? You want a skull bashed in or a head sliced off or a starship pulled out of the shit, you call me! But for something as serious as being a wife? A mother? What the fuck kind of mother could I be?”
“A damn good one,” Kami whispered faintly.
Sasha and her father turned simultaneously. Kami lay there, still, eyes closed, Dad rushing up to her and taking her paw in his. “Kam? You’re conscious? You’re talking?”
Kami moved her muzzle about, as if moistening the inside of her mouth. “That’s my Big Commode, always on the ball.”
Sasha’s heart was pounding now, and she rested a hand on the Caitian’s hip. “Kam! Jeez, you scared the Hell out of us!”
Beneath her bedsheet, her tail began twitching anxiously. “The cubs- Boladede-”
“Misha and Sreen are fine,” Dad assured her softly. “Sleeping in their beds, and Mru is cubsitting.” Less softly he added, “Cadet Boladede is being taken care of. Don’t worry about anything except getting some rest.”
“I will,” Kami promised with a weak murmur, “When you two stop arguing…”
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