Surefoot 71: The End

*

Weynik led the way through the narrow corridors of the Ajax, continuing to brief Sasha as they continued. "...had some upgrades to the shield configuration, adopting some metaphasic algorithms. Don't worry, you'll have time to catch up with the ship logs before you're expected to get back in the harness."

She nodded, struggling a little with all her possessions, and with the slightly higher gravity and lower oxygen content onboard. Or maybe it was all those shuris and waffles and whiskey you've been stuffing down your neck, Tubby? she asked herself. "How's Mr Kohanim been?"

"If he had hair, he'd have pulled it out long before now in frustration at the Second Officers we've had substituted for you." The Roylan stopped and looked back at her, more confidentially adding, "We also had installed an EMH with Counseling subroutines. You won't have to book remote transmission times for your sessions."

She nodded. Once, she would have resented having to admit that she needed help. "Thank you, Sir."

They resumed their walk towards the quarters... stopping outside of Engineering as they heard the familiar swearing from Chief Maryk. Weynik popped his head inside. "Everything okay, Helga?"

The petite, red-headed Chief of Engineering glared in the direction of the doorway. "It will be, Captain, Sir, when certain members of my crew learn to get out of my way and not let themselves get stepped on!"

Sasha grinned -- not at Maryk, who remained as charming as ever, but the man standing beside her and grinning back: Engineering Assistant Jim Madison, a huge mountain of a human who had once been intimate with Sasha, before unfortunate circumstances split them, though they had parted amicably. He remained handsome, charming, built like a brick starbase-

Then she checked herself, realising she needed to focus on her duty, and on her recovery, now that she was back. Oh Baby Brother, you may have been smarter than you know.

"Mr Madison hardly seems small enough to get stepped on," Weynik quipped.

"I mean the new idiots you've sent me to get their tails in the way!"

On cue, a uniformed figure with a tail emerged backwards from a Jefferies Tube, as Lt Mru Mori straightened up and said, "Sorry about that, Chief-" The Caitian stopped and looked at Sasha.

She stared back. "You're onboard? Oh, shit."

Weynik looked at the exchange between the junior officers. "Do I have to get the Horny Jail ready?"

*

The lands were rich, verdant, with healthy, fruit-bearing vegetation carpeting the surrounding hills, sheltering the many empty buildings that seemed to trickle down like a river to a wide bay that opened onto the Sea of Sa'Ran. Only a dilapidated sign proclaiming the site as the future development of the Hope Springs Township seemed out of place.

Valtiri stopped and breathed in the fresh, clean air. "Invigorating, isn't it, Pilot?"

The younger Ferasan male, now in civilian clothes provided for him following his release from the holding camp, looked around a little more warily, his thin tail twitching warily. "It's not Ferasa Prime."

"You're right; the air on Ferasa Prime was tainted with centuries of industrial pollutants. I could see the effects reaching even my remote former home. We let our precious world be poisoned for profit and power. The Caitians, however, understand the Truth."

"The Truth, Sire?"

The former Hunter Prime, now the Leader of the surviving Ferasans on Cait, nodded. "That a world does not belong to any of the lifeforms that live upon it, rather that they belong to it. We did not spin the tapestry of life, we are a thread within it, and we must regard the world -- any world we find ourselves upon -- as precious as our mothers." He took the leather-bound book he carried under his arm and held it up. "From the Great Mother's Book of Truths, given to me by Captain Hrelle before he departed, as he had promised."

Pilot looked back, to see more of their people arriving, carrying belongings, assisted by Starfleet and some Caitian specialists, taking in the place that would be their home now. "And you really think the Caitians will all be happy to have us here, instead of away on some planetoid somewhere?"

"No," Valtiri admitted, looking up at several large birds circling in the sky. "I think some will only be happy to see us all dead. Rightly or wrongly, many will only see our faces, know our histories, and judge us."

"Then why did you accept this arrangement?"

Valtiri turned to face him. "Because our peoples, the Caitians and the Ferasans, need to heal. We can't do that exiled into deep space. It won't be easy for us; we have a lot to be forgiven for. But then so the Caitians... though most will never even know how much. But we will heal.

And this place... this Hope... has still been given to us by the Caitians, despite everything that our people have done to them. 'Mercy is at its most valuable when offered to those you least wish to accept it.'"

"Another Truth from your book?"

"Our book, Cub. It was ours once, long ago, and it is again. We'll settle here, start new lives, ensure that Honour and Justice, Mercy and Compassion become our watchwords again." He looked up again at the large birds -- keserties, he believed they were called -- and reached out with his mind. Hello there. He didn't know if he could connect with any life here. Perhaps he was too alien to be heard? He outstretched his arm. I won't hurt you.

One swooped down, making Pilot back away instinctively as it perched onto Valtiri's outstretched arm.

He smiled.

*

On that very same spot, many years from now, many centuries from now in fact, a furred, tailed Teacher stood in a beautiful garden on Cait, holding a book. It was a heavy, ancient book, a book that had been carefully passed down from generation to generation. A book that was now open in one paw, as the Teacher taught her class.

"And thus the Truths of the Great Mother remain, My Cubs, as clear and unignorable and eternal as the sun that shines in our sky:

That Life Matters, in all its forms. That none of us are alone. That none of us are better or worse than any other for what we are, none of us more or less worthy than any other. That what makes us distinct from each other is to be treasured, not feared. That we are each other's concern, each other's burden, each other's goal. That the freedoms and privileges we enjoy must apply to all, or they will apply to none. That acts of mercy and compassion and kindness never die, they live on, and beget more, and those they beget, beget even more, driving down the darkness of hate and indifference.

And that with each new generation, there comes a renewal, a renewal of the promise that if we keep these Truths alive, we can survive... together. We must survive together.

If we have no future together, we have no future."

She closed her book softly. "These Truths are yours to keep. Yours to pass on to your cubs for them to keep." She looked over her class and smiled. "We have not done badly so far."

The rapt faces of cubs stared back at her. Cubs born Caitian, Ferasan, Human, Vulcan, Klingon, Cardassian, and many others. Cubs born with heritages blended from all these races, and more. None better or worse than any other for what they were, none more or less worthy than any other.

All equal.

All together.

All ready to keep these Truths, and pass them on...

THE END