Chapter 51
MFS Justice
on patrol in Sol sector
Hotch wanted to grab onto something as he felt like he was falling over and trying not to be sick all at the same time. But as soon as the feeling began, it was gone, leaving him only vaguely queasy, while the feeling of the current slowly faded.
The Fleet Foot and the other two who had identified themselves as Frr'a'narr'ah opened their eyes and Fleet Foot turned to look at Hotch with a smile and a curious look.
"You have been close to Sa'rai's noble for a long time, haven't you?" she asked.
"You mean Reid?" Hotch asked.
"Yes, Spencer Reid. He has left his mark on you."
"I don't understand."
"You were nearly joined, Aaron Hotchner," Fleet Foot said, tilting her head as she spoke.
"What does that mean? Joined? And I can understand you better now, too, why?"
"The Mrr'tani exist in two worlds, Aaron Hotchner," Fleet Foot said with perk of her ears. "There is the world you see, and the world of the Memory. You have touched the Memory, and now you can feel in our language what you could not before."
"Tell me about the Memory."
"The Memory joins all Mrr'tani. It is the mindscape, it is the realm of the Mothers, and also where Mrr'tani knowledge lives. All Mrr'tani live within the Memory."
"You're a collective?" Hotch asked.
"Not as you understand it," she answered. "Humans conceive of a collective as a single mind. Mrr'tani are many minds joined to one. Each individual unique, but residing within the mindscape. What one Mrr'tani knows, all Mrr'tani know. What one feels, all feel. When Mrr'tani pass from this world, they wait in the Memory to be reborn."
"That's what I felt, then? The Memory?"
"Yes. And I could feel you there, too. With time, perhaps humans will not be so mindblind. We have thought that being close to one who is mind-sighted will perhaps open some human minds, and perhaps it is so."
"That means that we might be able to see this Memory?"
"Perhaps," Fleet Foot said thoughtfully. Then she chuckled, a soft, stuttering hissing. "Come. There is a long journey ahead. Many weeks. We cannot bring you directly to Sa'rai's world, there is patrol to be done, but should be peaceful. We will feast, Mrr'tani and humans."
"Food sounds wonderful," Hotch said, realizing as he said it how long it seemed since he'd had food.
"This way, then. The Commons waits."
Hotch didn't know what to expect when she'd said they were going to The Commons, but for once, his idea wasn't too far from the truth. From what he could tell, they were towards the center of the ship, and once Fleet Foot had cycled through what looked like an internal airlock, they walked into a room large enough that it didn't feel like being on a ship at all. Through the door, the floor flexed under his weight, responding to his step and his momentum. It was stiff under his feet when he moved, but when he stopped, it relaxed and cradled him like thick carpet.
The floor was covered in a soft, plush material, and all about were strewn pillows, cushions, mats, and other soft furniture. In some areas around the periphery, there were low tables that reminded Hotch of a Japanese tea house he'd visited many years ago.
But most striking about the Commons was the sheer number of Mrr'tani who milled about within. They flowed through the room, weaving among each other, some laying and sleeping, others talking quietly while others collected small plates from the tables at the periphery and took them to the low tables, or to another part of the room. There wasn't a single Mrr'tani sitting alone, and even those sleeping were tucked into small knots of fur. Some of the knots moved in a flowing manner and it took a moment before Hotch placed the movement, and when he did, he averted his eyes and looked back at Fleet Foot.
"You are, perhaps, surprised by our way of living?" she asked with a grin.
"It's not what I'm used to," Hotch said, wondering how much his face gave him away.
"For humans, coupling is hidden, yes? For Mrr'tani it is communal. Pleasure felt by one is pleasure felt by all. We do not shame the natural desires of our people."
"We must be as alien to you as you are to us," Hotch said, looking back over the Commons, finding many more groups moving in the same fashion. Throughout the room, there was a feeling of peace and tranquility that wasn't present in many human places. There were no arguments, and there was no tension in the air that he would have expected on a combat vessel. The crew truly did look like one unit.
"No," Fleet Foot answered with a quiet smile and a shake of her head. "Perhaps at one time, you might have been, but the Mrr'tani have been among other peoples far more in this day than in the past. Some, such as the Eridians, are as private as your people. They consider pleasure and sensuality to be an affront to their spirituality. They consider the Mrr'tani not sentient, and the Quadranians unredeemable hedonists."
Fleet Foot chuckled again as she led Hotch further into the commons. As she led the way, Hotch could already see were they were going. At one of the tables sat the rest of the team, with Radcliffe and McMillan looking around in either confusion or amazement, it was hard to tell. Morgan was deep in conversation with a Mrr'tani who shared the thick coat that Fleet Foot had, though the one speaking with Morgan was darker colored and much taller, even though he was sitting.
"There is always food," Fleet Foot said as she led him to the tables. "Mrr'tani eat when they are hungry, so you will always find food in the Commons at any hour. If you need something specific, Nimble Fingers can prepare it for you. She is quite enthusiastic about preparing Earth food."
"I assume we can eat whatever you serve?" Hotch asked.
"Yes, we have analyzed your diets and you will find our food will meet your nutritional requirements. However, you may find our native food to be quite spicy. The Quadranian food will be less so, if you desire."
"I think I'll try some of both," Hotch said, picking up a dish from the table. It was warm in his hand and the bottom subtly flexed so as to conform to his fingers, though the top stayed rigid. Then he looked around for utensils and found none.
"Mrr'tani eat with claws and fingers," Fleet Foot said, answering the unspoken question, already picking food from the large dishes. "There are…roasting sticks? Yes, sticks, if you prefer."
Hotch looked to the side of the plates, and there was indeed a small container with a handful of metal skewers resting in it. He shrugged and picked one out of the pile and imitated Fleet Foot, taking a bit of this and a bit of that as he made his way down the table.
With a full plate of food, he followed Fleet Foot to the table, watching the way that she moved. She was sure of herself, that much was clear, and she moved with the grace of a dancer or a warrior, though not nearly so much as the one she'd called her Guardian. Hotch noticed that Wind Dancer had followed them, but kept a respectful distance within the Commons, allowing the two of them plenty of space.
The others, though, didn't treat the small Mrr'tani who obviously led them as anything special. There was no worship, no bowing, no sign that she was anything other than another of them, though every one who looked up to meet her eyes did so with a smile, and a couple came closer as she passed. To those, she reached out a hand for a stroke along the muzzle, and one she leaned down to cup his chin in her smaller paw and touch her nose to his. She moved like a religious figure more than a queen, Hotch concluded as he watched.
"That was the creepiest thing I ever saw," McMillan said, looking at Hotch with a shake of her head. "I've been on Navy ships before, and I haven't ever seen anything like that."
"Like what?" Hotch asked.
"They didn't say a word to each other. The whole time we started moving, they just…worked. Like creepy well. Don't tell me you didn't see that."
"I saw it," Hotch said, wondering if McMillan felt the same thing that he did. She would have mentioned it, though if she did. It was something that didn't just get ignored.
"How the hell do they sail a carrier without even a command to the engine room?" she asked.
"It is not a secret," Fleet Foot said, nodding at Hotch.
Hotch nodded back and spent the next few minutes explaining to McMillan and the others what he'd learned from Fleet Foot on the bridge.
"Wait," Morgan said, his eyes drifting to Fleet Foot, "you mean that you all can tell what everyone is thinking?"
"And feeling, and experiencing," Fleet Foot said with a nod.
"So, how do you deal with criminals?"
Hotch shot Morgan a look, one that Fleet Foot saw. He felt her paw on his arm and with it an undeniable urge to relax.
"Mrr'tani do not have those in the Memory such as you conceive," she answered. "The Memory shares pain as well as pleasure. When one is in pain, then we answer that pain before it becomes suffering. Our mind healers are skilled at easing pain before it manifests into something more. It has always been this way."
"So you don't have anyone who breaks the law?"
"No. Our law is simple. The People first. We understand that to ensure the Mrr'tani as a people are whole and well is to ensure that all Mrr'tani are whole and well."
"That's… incredible," Radcliffe said, watching Fleet Foot with fascinated eyes.
"You have had a very busy day, " Fleet Foot said, standing. "Rest and eat. Speak with others if you like. If you have need of me, you have only to ask any Mrr'tani and they will summon me. If you have needs or desires, Nimble Fingers will see to them."
She laid her paw gently on Hotch's head and caught his eyes with hers.
"May the Mothers ease your path, Aaron Hotchner. May you and your humans find what you desire, and may the Mothers grant you peace."
"Thank you," Hotch answered, not sure what to do. He held her eyes with his and saw the sincerity in the golden depths, and what was more, he could feel it all around him, until she took her paw away, and with a bow excused herself, leaving the humans alone at the table.
"Seems like you got on well with the queen," Morgan said, watching her make her way through the commons.
"She's interesting," Hotch said, starting in on the plate he'd brought. Fleet Foot was right, the food that most of the Mrr'tani were eating was spicier than he was expecting and he stifled a cough as he swallowed.
"If we can eat like this all the way to wherever the hell we're going, I may never want to be exchanged back," McMillan said with a laugh, watching Hotch's face.
"It's going to take some getting used to," Hotch said drily, looking at the plate for something that might have a bit less spice.
"So what do you think," Hotch asked, looking at Morgan first.
"I think we need to throw our psychology textbooks out the window," Morgan said. "We've never had to profile an alien before."
"We did it enough with Reid."
"Yeah we did, but he was born on Earth, remember? These cats, they're completely different."
"So what do you think anyway?" Hotch asked. "If we look at it with human eyes, what do you see?"
"I see a cult," Morgan said simply. "Do you see the way that they look at the queen?"
"She insists she's not a queen, so let's start there."
"Okay, we'll say Keeper, but my point still stands."
"She does seem to be a religious figure," Hotch said.
"I've talked with one of their tech people on Earth," Radcliffe said, "back when they first arrived. The way they talk about her, Messiah might be a better term."
"But look around," Hotch said, scanning the room. "There's no rank, no uniforms. On the bridge, there were three in the command chairs, and they all looked like they were working together. Let's not think cult right off."
"Well, if they're communal in thought like the Keeper says, what does that do to our perception of brainwashing?"
"I don't really know," Hotch said with a sigh. "I suppose we're going to be writing whole new textbooks for the BAU on this one."
"Whether it's a cult or not," McMillan said, "It doesn't feel like anything dangerous. They've been open about almost everything we've asked."
"Okay, keep that question in mind for now, then. We'll come back to it later. Everyone keep your eyes open while we're here. We're the first humans on a Mrr'tani ship, we need to make sure we don't give them a reason to be hostile."
"Yes, sir," McMillan and Radcliffe said. Morgan just nodded, still watching the Mrr'tani in the Commons.
"In the meantime, let's enjoy what they offer, and learn what we can. Now, did any of you find out where the restroom is?"
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NOTE: This chapter guest written by my lovely wife BlindTigress.
