CYCLE 2 – TRIAD
CHAPTER 1
"Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a harder battle." - Plato (Human), Earth.
FEDERATION HEAVY CRUISER, USS HOOD, UNDER WAY
JUNE 2269
He was holding his arms out to Sooth as she moved towards him across the bay and she suddenly dissolved into blue-white plasma, surrounding him with agony. He tried to scream, tried to beat the flames back with the fire-fighting kit but nothing was happening. He couldn't move – he couldn't breathe. The flames solidified into paralyzing blue-green slime, filling his lungs, drowning him. He tried to shout that she needed help, that she was hurt that...
Ensign Thomas Wilkes woke with a start, drenched in sweat, gasping for breath and on the verge of tears, feeling Sooth's arms pull him close, "Shh." she spoke softly in Dosadi, "It was just a nightmare. I know. It's OK. Let it go." Still shaking, he buried his face in the soft fur of her chest, letting her heartbeat and the soft whirring sound of the USS Hood's ventilators wash away the sound of the flames from his nightmare. They had gotten considerably less frequent in the year since the battle at Airdrie, but they would never go away entirely.
If it wasn't him waking with a scream or in tears, it was Sooth crashing awake and trying desperately to get clear of him. More than once he had found himself thrown across the room while she screamed curses in Dosadi at him. His trips to Sick Bay to get the deep scratches resulting from her kicks patched up had become something of a running joke to the late night Med-Techs. Usually good-natured, but there was always the occasional twit making comments like 'More rough-sex with the cat lady?' No matter how far human society and culture evolved, there would always be idiots.
Not that their relationship hadn't caused a lot of running jokes and crude commentary anyway. Starfleet was remarkably tolerant of different cultures, even of people enjoying relationships with people in those other cultures. But usually it was something a bit more...well, HUMAN. Vulcans looked like slightly mysterious people. Orions – particularly the women – were just humans with a bit more color and exciting appetites. Betazoids were indistinguishable from humans...but a cat?! Wilkes had been disciplined once for beating to a pulp a Lieutenant from the astrogation section after the man made a comment about whether or not there was a litter box in their quarters.
It didn't help that Wilkes continued to wear the Warrior Pendant, nor the tattoo around his eye. He had taken the earring out while on duty, but he flatly refused to take the Pendant off, and Captain Karmes had allowed it besides. It really didn't matter much to Wilkes what the few fools thought, or said. The vast majority of the crew aboard the Hood were good people and most saw him as an interesting eccentric and Sooth as a fascinatingly exotic teammate. Although he refused to discuss specifics of what had happened during his tour aboard the ISS Delos, stories still spread. Some true, some false.
The Federation was at peace and military skirmishes like those that the Hood had participated in at Toulagai were very rare and of little importance to those not directly involved. Usually the risk to Starfleet crews was from the unknown, the undiscovered, or the undetected. Most of their time and most of their missions were spent on voyages of exploration and science, not of battle and conquest. It was a sharp contrast to the smaller, fringe empires like the Dosadi who spent a lot of time squabbling over resources or territory. More than one person had commented that the Federation encouraged these little fights as test-beds for their weapons, tactics, and technology.
To the Hood's Engineering section, Wilkes' heavy combat experience with Green Wing was a welcome source of real-world expertise and the Chief Engineer had rewritten a number of the Standard Operating Guidelines (SOGs) and procedures based upon his recommendations. In Security, Lieutenant Wu had placed Sooth in charge of training and they now ran frequent boarding and damage-control drills based upon her experiences. But like Wilkes, outside of her duties, there was no real discussion of what she had seen, or experienced, especially not those horrible few minutes at Airdrie, nor the many agonizing months of healing and therapy afterward.
That morning, the Security Team had just finished a repel-boarders drill and Sooth and her new partner Petty Officer Kalea Mahi'ai were stowing their gear in the womens' locker room. As the drill leaders, they were the last in to get cleaned up. Putting the heavy armor into the rack, Kalea said, "I've been in Starfleet three years and I don't think I've worn this crap as much in the whole three years as I have since you came aboard, Sooth."
Sooth smiled, "I was surprised how little Starfleet wears armor. We wear it all the time in the Imperial Fleet – it stops a hand phaser cold and even a phaser rifle takes a solid hit to get through it. I don't understand why Starfleet Security still uses hand phasers at all." She ran her hands across her head and ears, "Ugh. Helmet fur."
Kalea explained, "Starfleet doesn't do a lot of combat – at least not without plenty of warning. You can't stun someone with a plasma rifle or a rail gun." She winked, "We'd rather do our enemies in by peaceful means..."
Laughing, Sooth stripped off her uniform and headed into the shower, "Must! Get! Clean!" Always a fast learner, by now her Standard was quite good, although still with a noticeable accent.
A few moments later, Kalea followed her in, teasingly saying, "And here I thought cats didn't like water."
Sooth bared her fangs at her, but her ears were up and she said, "One of these days I have GOT to see one of these cats everyone says we look like in person."
"When I was a little girl in Waimea – back on Earth - we had a kitty, she was so soft and fuzzy." Pausing a moment the little Hawaiian said, "Sooth, can I ask a really personal question?"
"Yes." Sooth began applying shampoo – a sizable task on a five-foot being covered in fur.
"Well, how old are you, anyway?"
"I'm 18 Earth-Standard years. Dosadi are considered adults at 16, Earth-Standard. And we usually live to the late 80's if we die of old age, which isn't often." and she chuckled.
There was a pause, filled only with the sound of running water and Kalea continued, "But don't you want to have kitte...I mean a baby some day?"
Sooth laughed, "We call them kittens, well, that's the closest Standard word to it. And yes, I do. Now, anyways. I didn't used to."
"CAN you? With Wilkes, I mean...I'm sorry, that's really personal. I shouldn't have asked you that. My dad always said I was as curious as a ca..um."
Sooth smiled, "I don't mind. We don't know yet. There's something about chromosomes and haploid numbers and after that it got technical." she shook her head, spraying water in a dozen directions, "There's at least one doctor who thinks it's possible, on Earth."
"Um...would it look like you, or like Wilkes?"
"I have no idea. Just so long as they have fur..." she flicked her arm towards Kalea, the water sheeting off her fur in a blast.