It was the early afternoon rush when the bad conscience of a too-good lunch hit the gym-goers. Still, there were not more than ten training in the gym. But too much for any intimacy with Lead. Their affair had matured, and she had been once more a regular companion in his bed since her return from the Ketcher expedition. But she knew she was not the only one, no surprise after almost 50 days away. Lead was open about it. He did not like one-night stands, but neither did he like large harems, just his three regulars. Apart from her, that was an older cat living on the station, a high-ranking Ketcher, one of the anti-Fiyul camp. She trained every night from 7500 to 8000, reliable as a clock, which made her easy to avoid. The other regular was a pilot, five years her senior. She was only at the station occasionally, but during those times she occupied Lead exclusively. She still had to meet her but was quite curious. And now that she was becoming a real pilot, he might add another regular. And of course, there was Korra, the cat who helped him finance the gym and with whom he would have liked to start a tribe. But she was too busy on the planet and had her own tribe now. She still owned a piece of his mind.

She worked hard on the machines. Flying the Sagan was no joke, withstanding the g-forces while having a steady manual control was not for the weak. She would need to be in top shape for when she would get all three engines going, hopefully with a more stable plasma. Otherwise, she feared being knocked out by the thrust fluctuation. Also nagging at her was the worry that Penny might not give her full clearance with only one main engine. Eventually, her mind cleared of all the meandering thoughts as she entered the zone, only feeling her body acting against the weights.

She only had her sweaty clothes, as visiting the gym had been a spontaneous idea to distract her and delay the filter duty. So she returned to the shipyard, sweaty and unshowered. Trina was not in her office but the lunchboxes were empty and cleaned. Aunt Kerta had enjoyed her lunchbox. No problem, she had eaten anyway something after the gym.

As sweaty as her clothes were, the filter duty was the thing to do, enough to earn her pay for the day. Still not looking forward to. She sighed and changed into a hazmat thinsuit.

Bernie had been right about the unclassified dust; the intake side of the filters was a very dark grey with lots of black spots. However, a whole section of filters was shiny white, apparently the exhaust behind was not working there. This prompted Bernie to launch into another long monologue about how bad the general maintenance of the station was. Well, other people even pay money to listen to stories while working, and she had exclusively generated AI ramblings. At least, she learned also more about the station's inner workings, and politics too, since maintenance was with another Samul tribe.

Even Bernie had run out halfway through and its focus had shifted elsewhere. So she listened to any music, as long as it had a beat. Nearly 1800 later, the last filter was in the hazardous waste bag. She went into the shower with the thinsuit and only then peeled out of it, her sweat mixing with the lingering slightly burnt metallic smell from the filter dust despite the wash. After that long and exhausting work, she had to wipe the inside with isopropanol to remove the worst before the next use.

"Rerra!" Trina entered the changing room.

She looked at her. "Trina, all fine?"

"Did I forget to tell you yesterday that today was the day off? Come, I invite you to dinner. By the way, thank you for the lunchboxes." Trina smiled but only for a second before her frown reappeared. She looked quite distant, heavy with other worries, and spoke very quietly, as if to herself. "You know, the Kerta tribe on the station is just me and Yakka, apart from Kerta. And she wants to step down."

That got her full attention. "What? Is she ill?"

"Not so loud," Trina hushed although no one was around, "and no, she is not ill. But she is 57 now and, honestly, she had lost her drive. Not all, but a lot. Lately, she’s thinking more of the tribe, trying to reconnect, to get some of my clansisters back to the station. Though luck. Looking back, she should have taken you in years ago."

"And Kerta going against Curragh? Anyhow, that ship has sailed. No worries. So what's really on your mind?"

"I'm 22. Yakka was the firstborn, 38, and her only daughter also graduated last year and left for the planet. Honestly, no surprise, Yakka had always been too busy to stand in for mother during all these years, and there were no more kittens. So I will be the next clanmother of the Kerta tribe, or the new Trina tribe of Samul."

"Oh by Hopkins, Trina!"

"Yes, just what I needed, more adult responsibilities." She sniffed, trembling slightly. Then Trina jerked forward and threw herself at her with such force that they slowly tilted backwards to the floor, no big deal in the low gravity here. And she clung to her, her claws digging in her sweaty fur, and the half-cleaned thinsuit clenched between their bellies.

"Trina," she just said, lost for words, "Trina. No worries, please." She discarded the isopropanol rag, stopped their momentum just short of the floor and returned the hug. Not that it helped much. Trina was crying her eyes out.

Finally, Trina had it all out. "I didn't realise how lonely I was in our dysfunctional tribe until you came," she sniffed.

"Then this is your chance to build a better onal tribe. So, let's have dinner at Petra. I want to introduce you to the den." And the kittens' contagious joy is exactly what you need, she added in her thoughts.

Trina blinked and looked down on herself, her fur now a mess too. "But"

"No, come. Please, for me, Clanmother Trina!"

That got a reaction. "Pshsh. Please, no jokes."

"Come on. You don`t have to be a stone-cold clanmother. I don't even think you could pull that off convincingly." She lifted Trina, no feat in the low gravity here, and set her down gently. "So let's shower and then go to Petra. Come on, I promise it will be fun."

Trina hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, I smell like you already."

She sent a message to Eli and the clanmother that she was about to bring a guest. Then she put the thinsuit away and followed Trina into the shower.

* * *

Eli was waiting in front of the door, and of course, bowed with perfection.

"Eli from Petra, this is Trina from Samul."

Trina did a very respectful bow, too. "Thank you very much, Eli from Petra. I am very sorry for that sudden intrusion."

"Welcome to che Petra den, Trina from Chamul," Eli smiled, "Rerra'ch friendch are our friendch. Enter, pleache." The lisp from her overly large tongue was her brand, together with the her thick polar-bear-like fur and voluptuous body, the other reason to hire Petra Catering.

Trina bowed again and entered.

"You don't mind if I get rid of my clothes?", she asked Trina while she was already pulling the sweaty jumper over her head and throwing it into the laundry bin. "No obligations, you are the guest."

"Thanks", Trina said, trying not to gape. They had just showered together, and she had been warned, but still ...

"Please go ahead, Eli will introduce you. I am ready in a second."

"No, I will wait for you."

She quickly undressed. "Ok, ready."

With the now again hesitant Trina at her side, she opened the door to the den. Everybody stood in expectation of their late guest. Only Tab was half-lying near the wall, nursing her cub. All traces of the interrupted dinner were gone, they had stacked the food trolley with clean plates and nicely rearranged the food. All, so that the guest could get the first plate from pristine foods. She was proud of the Petra hospitality.

She turned Trina gently towards the clanmother. "Clanmother Codeson, this is Trina from Samul, Kerta tribe." She bowed and Trina followed suit.

"Clanmother Codeson from Petra, I am honoured by the invitation."

"Trina from Samul, I am honoured to have such a distinguished guest in our humble den. I am sorry that we could not prepare a better reception on such short notice." With that came an angry look to her from the clanmother.

"Clanmother, I apologise. Trina is to become the next clanmother and knows only the cold ways of Samul. And she is my childhood friend." She could almost feel the surprise and slight panic of her clansisters, a Samul clanmother in the den! And now even Trina looked at her unhappily as well. "She was the closest clansister I had when I was growing up. She was the only one who had been kind to me, unwavering. I always wanted to invite her, but when I heard the news, I could not put it off any longer. Clanmother, forgive me."

"Dear Trina of Kerta from Samul, my deepest thanks for standing by our clansister. We would like to hear more later. But first, please fill your plate, for the guest eats first."

Trina bowed again. "Dear Clanmother Codeson, I am sorry for the sudden visit to your den."

"Please, fill your plate," she whispered to Trina, nudging her gently towards the food trolley, "no speech necessary. Just thank the clanmother for the food."

Trina took a plate, filled it, and bowed. "Thank you for the food."

Now the kittens shot forward and had their second helping. The long interruption of their evening meal had made them hungry again, and they were as lively and cute as ever. Soon they were lining up to thank the clanmother with their tiny voices. Trina couldn't help but smile at how cute they were. And then, in the usual order, the teens, and her with the rest, and finally the clanmother.

The kittens wasted no time in approaching the new guest. They wolfed down their food and surrounded Trina, admiring her silver-grey fur. The youngest only ever knew black and white stripes and her white fur, as guests were rare in the den.

She sat between Eli and the clanmother on the low dais along the wall, almost hidden under the carpet and cushions. "Clanmother, I am very sorry. She just told me tonight that Kerta is planning to retire and Trina will become the new clanmother. I wanted to invite her for the longest time, but I always hesitated. But inviting the clanmother of the station would be impossible, so this was the final push. Again, I am sorry."

Eli still shook her head. "I know you are kitten-friendch, it ich fine. But no future vichit of a Chamul clanmocher in the den. Petra mucht avoid too much attention."

"Trina will not talk if asked, I will vow for her. She is not a clanmother yet, just a young Samul cat invited by her friend and ex-cousin."

"If you chay cho." Eli nodded. The clanmother remained silent.

Well, she hated politics and was not good at reading people; she was much better with spaceships. But Trina was the only high-tier friend she had, and she would never break contact with her. Ok, not the only high-tier she knew, there was Fanny of Fiyul from Ketcher, with whom she had also parted on good terms after the mission. She had even promised her a private flight when her ship was ready. Maybe she should send her an invite when she gets the certification, tomorrow hopefully. They had exchanged a few messages since the mission but had not seen each other in person. Partly, because the Ketcher succession feud had not been resolved yet, and Clanmother Fiyul's grip on power was weak. It was too much ugly politics to even think about. She hoped it would not become the same with Trina.

"Clansister."

Yuha tore her from her thoughts. She stood in front of her, beaming and smiling so broadly that she even showed her gums.

Ahh, the visit to the male ... "That good! Great. And, do you know..."

Her smile could not widen, so she nodded violently.

She stood up and hugged Yuha. Another Petra kitten on its way.

"Congratulations. So that's why the trolley was stacked up?"

"Yech, lucky coinchidenche. Now come, join your friend and the kittench," Eli gestured.

"Yuha, come, I want to introduce you too."

Still too high on endorphins to care about the delay of her evening meal, Yuha followed Eli and her over to Trina and the kittens. "Trina, this is Yuha."

Trina rose from the pile of kittens and bowed, smiling. "Trina, nice to meet you."

Just then the light dimmed and came back. " By Hopkins!" Trina cursed and pulled out her pad, "Bernie what was that?"

There was no answer, the net was down too. The lights went out again, this time for longer. Only the screen of Trina's pad illuminated the den.

"Rerra, come, we have to get to the hub, that is serious."

Just then the light came back on, followed by the net. Trina used her supervisor privilege to message Bernie. This time the AI responded. "Trina, we had a massive power drain in sector 3, even the main breakers were overloaded. I'm ramping up the cores as we speak. The fault must have been on the outer rings. But it cannot be a ship, there are no scheduled departures, and even more, the reactor core startup power ring is separate from the normal ring."

"Bernie, this is Rerra. Have any other breakers been triggered?"

"Plenty, but I cannot say which exactly, the outages have wiped that log. But as I said, there are no large power consumers nearby. This would..."

Her pad chimed. It was a message from Fanny. 'Hello friends! Dire news, Torragh have taken control of the clinic. They got hold of one modder and are out to kill anyone who knows about it. You must leave the stations.'

She replied quickly, 'Hi Fanny, my ship is ready. If you cannot find anything, come to the shipyard, top level.'

The answer came immediately. 'Thank you, but I am on my way to a shuttle. Please leave, we think they want to create super killers with the modder.'

'Take care,' she typed and then looked up. "I got a message from Fanny from Ketcher. There's been a coup within Ketcher. The Torragh tribe seized the clinic and.” She hesitated, better not to tell too much. “Bernie, can we shut down the Ketcher clinic grid?"

"Rerra, an interesting question. Cutting power is straight forward but they have an emergency core. But that core drops its heat into the general cooling loop. There are manual valves in the cooling loop and without cooling the power of the emergency core is severely limited. So it would not be a complete shutdown. However"

"Thank you, Bernie, shut down the entire section with the clinic and give me the location of the valves."

"No!" Trina shouted, "Rerra, are you crazy?"

"Trina listen. Ketcher got alien tech on that mission I flew with. They have jailbroken the restrictions and are creating superkillers. That must have caused the power spike. You heard Bernie, the clinic's normal tech will easily run with the emergency core, even without cooling. Please."

"Are you sure?" Trina asked doubtfully. Then Trina's pad chimed, Kerta. "Trina, hide!" her aunt shouted in the shaky video, "they sent murderers for us. I am trapped in the outer office. I hope the door..." Then the pad dropped and went black as they heard a muffled scream.

All the pads suddenly chimed, an emergency broadcast. "This is Yala of Torragh from Ketcher," said a large ocelot cat, her fangs sabertooth-sized. "The station management has moved to Ketcher. Please do not worry. Rest assured, nothing will change for you."