《The Bloodclaw Chronicles》


 Prologue 1. Jjathas Message

    -Transmission Start-


    <u>Voice Interface Missive:</u> Universal Date: 31872


    Sender: Cargo Freighter Dark Meridian


    Destination: Nelan¡¯Kor - Verach Homeworld


    Recipient/Address: CDN-813597967/CZ3-RA7-LU43-R502


    Your son, Jjatha.


    Mother, Father, Siblings. I hope this VIM finds you well and in good spirits. I am proud to be sending a substantial bonus home. But the story behind it is a long and harrowing one.


    There¡­is much to speak about since my last VIM. The events of the last few cycles have been both trying and¡­illuminating at the same time. I do not wish to alarm you, but you must know that the ship that I am serving as Navigator on, the Dark Meridian, was intercepted and boarded by Clantor led pirates as we transited into one of our destination systems. Clantor, as I am sure you know, but the young ones may not, have dominated their planet by enslaving a companion intelligent species as laborers and inventors, and continue to take more into slavery for the same reasons, or as food.


    Do not fear, this is not an emergency VIM nor am I being given a final ransom message before being taken to the slave pens. All is currently well, and we made port at our destination clear of any pirates. It is¡­the events leading to our liberation from the pirates that I need to disclose to you now, as they are what have led to the extra currency being sent. I beg you to have patience with my rambling and chaotic retelling as there is much to explain and I myself am still trying to come to terms with the events, and what they revealed about a particular member of my crew and their species.


    The species in question, I am sure you have heard of them on the GalNet, is a Human, also sometimes called a Terran. They are relative newcomers to spacefaring, but they have already made lasting impressions wherever they go. Stories of them abound through the Net, stories of them being nigh unkillable in comparison to most other species, of their pack bonding habits, of their willingness to sacrifice themselves for others, of their¡­ odd or predatory natures. Surprisingly, I have found all of these stories and more to be closer to truth than fiction, at least amongst the Humans deemed worthy to travel the stars and work alongside their peers. The Human on my ship, a Maintenance and Cargo Technician named Conrad Mclaughlin, has mentioned in passing that not all humans match or live up to the stories, but that those either willing or trained to brave the uncertainties inherent in space travel are often better prepared than those that are not.


    This Human is, strange. When he first came aboard he did not interact much with other crew members. He simply sat and watched, watched and listened, and just watched. It was¡­unsettling. He also moved incredibly quietly for being on the larger range of his species size categories. It wasn¡¯t until later when he started to approach crew and speak with them that figured out why he did not interact at first. He was observing the crew and their interactions, learning who was friendly to whom and what things they preferred not to talk on. This way he could avoid insulting someone or causing trouble unintentionally. Though the methods of his learning this was strange, his efforts paid dividends and the crew quickly accepted him into the fold, leaving the odd observation behavior quite forgotten. He was a friendly sort, quick to jest and laugh, but serious when needed. He fit in well.


    MCT Conrad appears to be a normal Human by the standards we have come to experience, for a Deathworld species that is. Yes, they are indeed from a planet the GalCom considers to be a Deathworld. For those in the family who are unaware, humans are a quadra-form, bipedal mammalian species, similar in general form to us. Similar enough in fact that their planet, in a confluence of nature, has a small mammal resembling the Verach species, called a fruit bat. The resemblance was, despite their bat¡¯s ability to fly¡­ uncomfortably close.


    Their planet¡¯s gravity is stronger than the Galactic norm for intelligent spacefaring species, resulting in them having denser musculature and skeletal structure, which explains in part their comparatively extreme durability. I know what you are thinking, and no, they are not Apex predators like the Ruulothi (whom the humans call Leonids) and the Clantor (which the Humans call Mantids). Both of those names are derived from a similar appearing species on the Human¡¯s homeworld and are also going to be important in my later story. Much like we are similar to their fruitbat, their species also have an analogue. And, like us, both of their namesakes very closely resemble the species in question.


    Where was¡­Oh yes. Humans are not solely predators; they are omnivores and can eat pretty much any plant or animal based foods. It¡­ does makes for some strange and awkward times in the eateries. I asked MCT Conrad about their seemingly contradictory natures at one time, and he found it amusing but explained as I asked questions. He told me that his species developed to survive in spite of not being on top of their food chain. After noting my interest, he also explained that they designed a system for scaling predators. The fact that environment of their planet caused them to even need to create such a system is concern enough, even more so is where THEY place THEMSELVES on that scale. Their system goes from 1-5 with 1 being the lowest (a purely prey species) and 5 being the highest (these being Apex predators, creatures with impressive natural weapons and nothing that actively hunts them). Humans rate themselves¡­at just above a 2. MCT Conrad seemed to take great enjoyment from my shock and answered my next question even as I was forming it. ¡°We improvise, adapt and overcome. We learn, create and apply. We make tools, then make more tools to make better and more effective tools. Then build more tools to beat those tools. Like most species, but I suppose we are a little faster at it than most.¡± This adapting and improvising, as well as their tribal social structure, is what allowed them to jump ahead of the creatures that would prey upon them. They gathered in communities strong enough to fend off any creature that would prey upon them. They did this so well that the Apex predators that they lived near stopped hunting them unless either the humans were alone, or the predator was wounded or desperate. He called their innate ability to adapt on short notice, ¡°¡¯Flying by the seat of their pants.¡¯ ¡®Winging it¡¯ and doing things ¡®On a wing and a Prayer.¡¯¡± All phrases used to describe simply, ¡°Making it up as you go¡± and ¡°Faking it until you make it¡±. Though I have yet to figure out why a wingless race uses flight analogies, or what business or strange mechanism makes pants fly. Another phrase, rather pertinent to the situation that we found ourselves in, was directed specifically at dealing with the Clantor, ¡°Killed in Battle, or held as Chattel.¡± It doesn¡¯t translate directly to our language or Galactic Trade, but in the human language it is very catchy and clearly rhymes, making it easy to remember when stress and circumstances distract. Perhaps that is why they make use of these phrases, so that they are remembered even when all other reason flees the mind.


    Those odd lines are all another human creation, an ¡°Idiom¡±. These are phrases that are sometimes used as teaching tools or expressions of grudging acceptance but, most often, are used to signal a universal idea to others in the same group so that they may all be, ¡°On the same page¡±, and therefore able to respond in a similar and complimentary manner. That is another thing that humans seem to have developed as an answer to an uncertain future. Universal ideas, a way of enhancing and enabling quick cooperation and problem solving by creating a familiar base concept to all involved. This does not stop at teaching points but has pervaded their technology as well. Rather than create long lasting works of unique perfection like we and others in the GalCom do, they instead create less perfect versions of the same thing that can be quickly upgraded, replaced or converted to other uses when needed or when damaged and worn down. Every single piece of their technology is directly compatible with another in some form or fashion. Their connecting cables all use the same ports across nearly all machines. Their parts are all compatible with other models, up to a certain point. I believe MCT Conrad called it, ¡°Modular design¡± for ¡°Drop in, Drop out functionality.¡± It certainly explains how they have made their technology just as durable as they are. If something breaks, the parts can be switched out at a moment¡¯s notice for far cheaper than most anything the GalCom makes. Another triumph of their adaptability, though I am beginning to wonder if there isn¡¯t some strange sort of direction behind their apparent chaotic nature. If so, not even MCT Conrad knew of it.


    Family, they did not rise to control their planet, in fact, they still haven¡¯t. They still live with wildly powerful storms and beasts that would tear them asunder in but a spare moment. But, by using their own natures and tools, they adapted to live with it and thrive in spite of it. Even if they don¡¯t have a proper tool to do a job, they can often use a different tool and make it work. Never have I seen a species so capable of taking unrelated things and putting them together to create a functional¡­anything. Be it a response to a situation or a direct physical or mechanical need, they almost seem to thrive on being explicitly unprepared. They are the most adaptive and innovative race I have ever met or heard of. It is still strange to me, as I am sure it is strange to hear me tell. Most member species in the GalCom do the exact opposite of humanity by creating precise long reaching plans and taking solid direction, and none do the same. The GalCom as a whole is organized and methodical in our approaches to things. We Verach are tested for skills at young ages and then directed to those fields of study, so that we may put our best efforts into something that we have an aptitude for and can contribute to our community as a whole. This is how I became a Navigator, and how we all find our professions.


    Humans do not. They have a word for this that we do not have in our language, but I will try and define it as best as I can. They call it ¡°Passion¡±. It defines a strong desire and enthusiasm bordering on Love. They allow their young to experience all sorts of different tasks and skills, often on their own I might add, so that they may find something that they are personally ¡°Passionate¡± about. Which leads to them eagerly learning all they can about the topic and applying themselves to their chosen field with a fervor, regardless of their starting skill level. It seems to me that this ¡°Passion¡± is a major factor that leads directly to their innovativeness. Always seeking to improve and explore new boundaries of their chosen fields.


    I asked MCT Conrad once if he was passionate about his work on the ship. He replied that it wasn¡¯t a passion for him, simply a good job that let him travel and see things that he would not otherwise get to see, and that the physical exertion kept him in better physical form than working anywhere else on a ship with lower than average gravity for him. As our conversation continued, he went on to explain that you can always tell when a human is truly passionate about something. He said that they always seem to be enjoying themselves. When I asked why he always grinned when he donned the Heavy Exoskeletal Movement Interface if he wasn¡¯t passionate about his work he laughed and said it was a silly little human thing. He said that when he wore it he, ¡°Had a HEMI.¡± I do not understand the joke, but it does bring him enjoyment somehow, as his work brings joy to our Captain. For the younger ones, Exoskeletal Movement Interfaces enhance the user¡¯s strength to assist them in lifting and moving heavy objects, such as cargo crates, while balancing the user for awkward loads. Having a human wearing one is impressive. He can lift and move the heaviest of creates faster than even the gantry crane. Because of this, we have been loading and unloading our cargo nearly twice as fast as before, improving our shipping potential and diminishing our down time, and thus increasing profits.


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    But I have again lost the path, back to Passion. With his explanation and my observations, I believe this Passion means that Humans, and some other species that behave similarly, are likely to be happier at or at least enjoying their tasks. Which usually for humans means smiling easily, or at least being excited to talk at length about whatever the subject is. MCT Conrad declined to state what he felt passionate about. He claimed that it was not something that most of the GalCom would truly understand, and he did not want to spoil any relationships that he had built on the Dark Meridian. This was concerning to me, but I respected his decision. Little did I know then that I would get to see just what exactly he was passionate about. He was right, I do not understand it. But I, and now you, can appreciate the effects of it at the very least.


    Which I believe brings us to the most important part of my missive, the attack. We had just jumped into our destination system, right outside the gravity threshold, and had started to make our way to the port. The shortest route to our destination ran us by an asteroid field, so I plotted the course, got it approved, and we set off. Unfortunately, there was a Clantor raider hiding in the field, waiting for someone to take the shortest route. We followed protocol and shut down our engines, hoping they would not see us as a worthy target for chase, but this day was not in our favor. They were not looking for active prey to hunt, but rather a raid for supplies and slaves. While our engines were off, they clamped on and boarded. One by one we were herded into a pressurized cargo bay where they gave their Ultimatum, the one that had led the humans to create their colorful phrase for them. They stated that we could go free if we could fight and win against them, otherwise we would be taken to their slave pits to await whatever fate they decided. The pirate crew consisted of primarily predatory species and were led by two Clantor. The leader was an elder Clantor, which I knew meant we were doomed. Again, for the young ones. Clantor have an exoskeleton, one that darkens and hardens with age. Elders are the largest, strongest and toughest among them. Their carapace has darkened to nearly black instead of the standard green and is akin to armored plating. We had no weapons that could get through it.


    But we still had ones that would try. Our security staff was headed by two Ruulothi. A blooded elder warrior who worked as the security chief and a younger whom he was training to eventually replace him. Neither of them would submit to being slaves or eaten. The younger leapt to the challenge, eager to earn his claws. He fought well, at least that is what the Security Chief, Ruufarrl, claimed. That appears to be all that mattered to them, but it was a hopeless fight. His claws merely skittered across the Clantor¡¯s body and left little more than scratches marring the surface. The Clantor briefly humored the young warrior before quickly catching him, and the result was about what one would expect when a giant insectoid with blades for arms catches anything it deems as food. Little more than a torn, bloody mess.


    SC Ruufarrl himself then began to step forward but was stopped suddenly. MCT Conrad had held up his arm and stopped him, surprisingly easily as he was still wearing his HEMI. He looked at SC Ruufarrl and simply shook his head, then stepped forward to take his place. SC Ruufarrl tilted his head, but didn¡¯t argue, another thing I did not expect given his own species¡¯ background. He said later that he recognized the look in MCT Conrad¡¯s eyes, and knew it was not his turn yet.


    I was in shock. Surely MCT Conrad knew that it was an impossible feat to kill the Clantor without military grade weapons. But he was somehow very calm, and I was reminded about how he said nothing when he first came aboard and simply observed. He was doing it again, but this time very intently upon his opponent. His HEMI clanked as he walked, the loading claws retracted for the moment. Instead of deploying them, probably the only thing I could think of him having that might give him an advantage, he instead pulled out what appeared to be a packing tape dispenser.


    I apologize family, you likely know nothing of this. I assume, though, that you have likely come across the marvel of Human engineering that is Space Tape, a vacuum compatible variant of a Human adhesive stripping called Duct Tape and a VERY sought-after export. Humans seem to have mastered the ability to pack and ship things in small spaces by using lightweight and disposable packaging instead of cargo canisters. To hold these things shut they created packing tape dispensers. They are small sticks with a roller of tape and a blade. They simply slap the tape roller on the container, pull it along the container to the desired length then angle the device to cut the tape to the size needed, sealing the container¡¯s opening in the process. A simple tool for a simple job, but one that vastly improves efficiency.


    As for the encounter, I thought MCT Conrad had gone insane and feared for what I was about to see. I was right to fear but, for the wrong reasons. The pirate stood almost a quarter again his height, even in the HEMI. It was an unstoppable armored death machine. Though I realize now that that could have described both of them.


    MCT Conrad and the Clantor moved to engage at the same time. MCT Conrad ducked and stepped and dodged very quickly, using the weight and balancing mechanisms of the HEMI against the Clantor¡¯s more limited mobility due to multiple legs to his advantage, getting around the side of the pirate and away from its lethal arms as opposed to facing it head on like the young Ruulothi had. MCT Conrad raised his metal sheathed arms to block the Clantor¡¯s attacks when needed. Ruufarrl explained to me after that this is why he left the loading claws retracted, their greater mass and stronger metal prevented the Clantor¡¯s blade arms from cutting into the HEMI¡¯s mechanisms, he mused that MCT Conrad had learned much from watching even the brief clash between the Clantor and Ruffarrl¡¯s subordinate. Ruufarrl appeared to understand much of what happened, and he watched with an elated intensity. I still don¡¯t understand much of what he tried to explain. But he was most certainly impressed, something else that does not happen often with his species.


    Each time they clashed, MCT Conrad left another strip of tape on the Clantor. They did not appear to be hindering it in any way, and I continued to question his reasoning, at least until they broke away to regain composure and re-evaluate each other. The Clantor was covered in tape strips. Some on his abdomen and thorax, some on his arms or legs, and even one on the side of his head and under its neck joint. MCT Conrad didn¡¯t appear to be bothered at all, though his HEMI was starting to be cut apart.


    MCT Conrad dropped his tape dispenser, pulled out a small signaling device, and gave a most predatory open mouth, teeth baring grin. It was then that I realized what he had done.


    It was not a tape dispenser that he had been holding; it was a Human crafted void welder. It, and the following actions solidified a stray rumor that I had heard about humans but dismissed as fiction, and one that absolutely terrifies me now. Humans¡­Humans can turn anything into a weapon.


    The tool itself solved the problem of repairing ships in the vacuum of space for Humans. We have different ways of doing repairs, but they all required a shipyard or complicated airlock fabrications before Humans arrived. The void welder held a wide strip of activating materials and elemental components, along with a receiver antenna, inside of a resistant but pliable adhesive casing. Every time a strip was cut off, the internal antenna would activate and be ready to receive a signal. Once it did, it would set off a chain reaction that would combine the materials and elemental components, creating a self-contained welding bead that could fasten plates to hulls and repair damaged structures, without the void preventing the combustion, at least until the components burned through the outer layers of the strip. It could also, as this one apparently was, be modified to cut instead of seal. Allowing for void salvage and rescue operations.


    The Elder Clantor came after MCT Conrad again, he hit his button, and the pirate leader disappeared into a cloud of smoke. The cloud quickly cleared, and when we saw what was left of the Clantor I nearly voided my stomach. The horrendous stench of burned chitin and volatile welding/cutting components was bad enough, but the pile of pieces that were all that was left of the pirate was a far grislier mess than even the Ruulothi that it had killed. I will spare you the specific details, but it is not a sight that I will ever forget.


    Despite this victory, the fight was not even close to being over. Angered by the loss of its sire, the second, much younger Clantor charged to attack. MCT Conrad had but moments to react, and rather than run or pick up the welder again, he deployed his loading claws. He blocked the first swing and ducked under the second. He caught the second arm from behind in one of his loading claws and clamped it down, then caught the Clantor¡¯s neck in the other and clamped it down. Then...then he stretched. Clantor as it turns out, being insectoids, cannot stretch. It also appears that their neck joints are weaker than their shoulder joints, and the younger Clantor¡¯s iridescent green exoskeleton was not nearly as resistant to pressure as the elder¡¯s.


    Immediately after he dropped the body of the second Clantor, the other pirates began to realize that they were losing control. A reptilian pirate got over its shock first and attacked him with a heavy electro-staff. The HEMI took this blow as MCT Conrad struck back with a closed claw, knocking the attacking pirate back into his fellows with a collapsed chest. This gave him precious time, as his HEMI was now malfunctioning due to sustained damage and electrical overload. He hit his emergency release and dropped out of it in time to meet the oncoming pirates who had avoided their thrown crewmember and recovered enough to act.


    The first to reach him, a rodent-like Burrelan, was far ahead of the others due to their inherently fast reaction time. As MCT Conrad dropped out of his HEMI, he reached down to its tool harness and pulled out a friction torsioner. He slammed this up under the charging Burrelan¡¯s narrow jaw, killing it instantly. He did not have time to recover the tool and scrambled to put distance between himself and his newest attackers.


    MCT Conrad sidestepped and back pedaled, coming close to where I was. The entire time he moved he was pulling his belt from around his waist. Once he got it free, he lashed out with it, striking a rushing reptilian Sarekh pirate in their enlarged eye with the metal capped end and knocking it stumbling in pain. He recovered the free end in time to meet the second pirate, this one a mammalian. It swung at him with heavy closed fists and knuckles of exposed bone plates. What happened next, I can¡¯t even begin to explain fully, even with SC Ruufarrl giving me specifics, but I will try.


    MCT Conrad, seemed to shift rapidly. Not his body, but his method of movements. He went from loose, to rigid, to loose and back again. Using the belt as a barrier, he caught the pirate¡¯s attack. Rapidly switching his hands, MTC Conrad knocked the arm down and out of the way at the same time he struck with pirate in the nose with his own, opposite fist. His hard stance then softened and snapped into rigid again pulling his top arm back and punching his low arm forward, not at the pirate, but both arms behind its head. Doing so snapped the loop he had created with the belt violently shut on the pirate¡¯s throat, crushing its airways. As the pirate struggled and gagged, he again shifted low behind the pirate to put his shoulder directly under the back of their neck before rapidly standing straight again as he whipped his arms towards the floor.


    There was a loud, wet crack as the pirate¡¯s spine was torn apart in its neck. MCT Conrad let go of the belt and the pirate slid to the floor, as dead as the others. Never have I seen a creature move in such an unnatural manner. I hope to the home world and the Great Strider that I never do again.


    And yes, you heard correctly. The Human, my crewmate MCT Conrad, killed a pirate¡­with a garment designed to hold his clothes in place. He killed warrior pirates, predators all, with a welder, an Exoskeletal Movement Interface, a piece of webbed cloth and a friction tool.


    The remaining pirates had picked themselves up by then, but they did not move. SC Ruufarrl was not where I remembered him being. He had stepped forward and grabbed the one MCT Conrad had hit in the eye around the neck and had his claws and teeth in full display, now standing beside the Human and facing the remaining pirates. My two crewmates shared a look and nodded at each other before MCT Conrad spoke, giving our own Ultimatum this time.


    ¡°Surrender or die.¡±


    Deprived of their leadership and shock troops and faced now with a blooded Ruulothi warrior and the Human that had already killed so many, they quickly surrendered.


    MCT Conrad later admitted under questioning from the Captain and SC Ruufarrl that he had never been a soldier, he had just learned to fight because he wanted to, because he enjoyed the physical exertion of the training. This sort of explanation being commonplace amongst Humans, they thought little more of it beyond being a strange alien behavior, as he had said similar of his work in the loading bays.


    It was not until after all was done and we arrived at the port with our newly ¡°salvaged¡± ship and captured criminals that I realized something else, that he had not been telling the entire truth.


    MCT Conrad¡­had been smiling¡­for the entire fight.


    -End of Transmission-

 Prologue-2, Ruufarrls Message

    -Transmission Start-


    <u>Voice Interface Missive:</u> Universal Date: 31872


    Sender: Cargo Freighter Dark Meridian ¨C Sheathed Claw Ruufaarl


    Destination: Ruuloth II ¨C Ruulothi Homeworld


    Recipient/Address: First Claw Ruushaan, Night Mane Clan Head


    Attachment Included: Video File


    First Claw, I ask your forgiveness for the interruption caused by this unscheduled report. I feel that the events described within merit an immediate update so that you may be kept best informed on matters pertaining to the Clan.


    Foremost, I must inform you with both Mourning and Pride that the Youngblood assigned to me, Kiiroth, has fallen in battle. Though he did not earn his Bloodclaws in the battle, I am still making a formal request for him to be memorialized with full Honors, for his opponent was no less than an Elder Clantor. In spite of this unstoppable foe, he met them without fear or hesitation, with nothing more than his own claws and fang. He acquitted himself Honorably and fell as a Warrior should.


    The details of this encounter will come later in this report, as another matter both takes precedence and is directly tied into it. That matter is of the Terran race. I know that they have been monitored and already judged as Dull Fangs, despite the presence of a potentially formidable military, as their political leaders did not inspire the confidence required for a worthier judgement. We took insult to their classification of us as resembling a creature from their own world. ¡°Leonids¡± they had called us. Since then we have steadfastly refused to associate with them. We ignored any rumors that reached us of their efforts as fantasy and we thought them weak as they had no effective natural weapons.


    I now feel as though they have been¡­ severely misjudged in both scope and capabilities. Our refusal to work with them anywhere and take heed of rumors¡­was a mistake. Indeed, they may even be worthy of being called Hunt Brothers. I know this is troubling and strange to hear, from me least of all. I beg¡­Yes, I beg¡­ that you do not dismiss it. I have not gone senile. I ask only that you hear the details of this story, so that you may best choose the path to take from here on.


    The details of this story revolve around a single Terran Civilian, named Conrad McLaughlin. He was hired to the Crew of the Dark Meridian roughly one Galactic Standard year ago as a Maintenance and Cargo Technician, and he came with high recommendations for both work ethic and crew compatibility. Despite his references I disagreed with his hiring due to our prejudices. I was overruled. He is now finishing his fourth tour on the ship.


    His work ethic was indeed solid. The Captain was quite pleased as the human¡¯s capacity for his work resulted in increased efficiency on the ship. When the human wasn¡¯t actively moving cargo he was learning of, and providing for, the maintenance needs of the ship. At one point, after a meteorite strike left a crack in the outer hull, he even put his own pay towards some new equipment. He received his order during our next port of call while we were still getting the damage repaired in the shipyard, it was a Human crafted Void Welder, a very useful tool designed to perform repairs and salvage in the emptiness of space. Since all equipment and physical mail goes through me as Security Chief, I asked him why he had bought unauthorized equipment. After his explanation I quietly authorized its use in case of emergencies only, added it to our equipment logs and made the Captain aware of its existence. His actions showed true initiative, such that if he were a Ruulothi he would have been praised. His actions here solidified him as a trusted and worthy crew member.


    It was not the human¡¯s work ethic that made him stand out first though, that came later. Rather it was his mannerisms upon coming aboard and acclimating that kept my attention on him. There is a saying among nearly all peoples that it takes a predator to catch a predator, and this was certainly a case representing it. The human exhibited many traits often attributed to a predatory species, seemingly without even realizing it and in spite of claiming to not have served in their military. While eating in the food hall he would sit with his back to a wall, quietly watching and listening to all that were in front of him, like a hidden hunter before a pounce. He moved smoothly and quietly, to the point of accidentally startling fellow crew members who did not notice his arrival. He walked with a low and wide stalker¡¯s gait and never lost his balance, despite ship maneuvers and the gravity on the ship being less than his norm. He always appeared to be studying things intently, as if prepping for conflict.


    I was initially worried that he may have been preparing for an attack or conflict of some sort, so both I and Kiiroth continued to monitor him. The day he finally approached a group of his peers we readied ourselves for a fight, but it was never to come. Within a few short moments he had joined in their conversation as though he had always been there. Without flaw he continued to move into different social groups and mingle with them, sometimes even bridging issues between two different groups. He even got quite friendly with the Navigator, a young Verach male. I thought at first that the human was acting like a Rorka Lizard, mimicking another creature¡¯s call in order to draw them in for a strike. I sent Kiiroth to approach him and learn what he could. The results were... unexpected.


    The human was not acting as a saboteur. He watched not to attack, but to join. He used a predator¡¯s instincts and hunting techniques to blend into social orders rather than his surroundings. He used them to become a part of the pack, rather than to attack it. He did this not only with the other crew members, but also with Kiiroth. The two of them would become regular dining partners, both asking questions and receiving answers about each other¡¯s histories and people. Once, after getting the human to speak on the matter, Kiroth reported that he had explained the actions with a strange turn of phrase that meant, ¡°Learn of others and act as they do so as not to make enemies.¡± He went on to explain that this is a common human trait, and one that allowed them to save other traits for when they were truly needed.


    If this is true, then their species would likely have conformed to what they saw as the Galactic Norm. I feel that their Leaders would have been presenting an expectation when they first met us, skewing our estimation of them.


    I do believe that if Kiiroth had survived, he would have made a fine addition to the Fang Guard of the clan. His interactions with the human had tempered his brusque and brash nature to an alert caution. Before he fell, he was even taking over minor investigations amongst the crew with increasing success. He had learned how to connect with others by interacting with the human, to turn his own predatory instincts to relating to the crew. All valuable skills and traits for an Emissarial Protector. Maybe even eventually your own Black Talons.


    As troubling as the information was to me, I saw no reason to continue an active watch on the human. I did allow Kiiroth to continue meeting with him, though I kept my own distance. I trusted the Youngblood to report if anything seemed to resemble a threat. I heard and thought nothing more on the matter throughout the rest of our tour, until we reached the Handolin System. This is the system where Kiiroth fell in battle, and it is the system that showed me the true nature of the human on my crew.


    The Captain of the Ship decided on arriving that we were to take the shortest route to our destination. The route took us past an asteroid field, a place filled with a great many hiding places and blind spots. I counseled against this action but was again overruled. The results were as one would expect for complacency and convenience over security. A Clantor pirate ship laid in ambush and the Captain followed the standard policy of cutting his engines rather than running, hoping that they wanted active prey. Instead they clamped on and boarded. A distress call was sent, but help would never arrive in time. Kiiroth and I prepared to fight them at the main docking hatch, with no weapons beyond stunners allowed on board the results of the fight were already assured, we would die this day. With our fangs in their necks and blood on our claws, we would die as a Ruulothi should.


    But they did not go to the main hatch. Instead they overrode an airlock control leading to a cargo bay and entered on the other end of the ship, capturing and herding crew as they went. We knew what was coming and chose then to make our stand with the rest of the crew so that our fight, and our deaths, would be witnessed and remembered. I suppose that I should be thankful that they did not come through the main hatch. With an Elder Clantor leading the charge we would both have been killed without answer. A death in battle, but it would have been an ignoble one at best.


    When we entered the cargo bay that was being used as their staging area most of the crew was already cowering in fear. They had clumped together in small groups as a way of supporting one another. The exception to this¡­ was the human. He stood apart from the small groups with what I had come to recognize as an apprehensive expression on his face while he tinkered with the control nodes of his Cargo Loading Suit. The pirates seem to have left him in it as they were planning on using him to move their loot to their own ship. I had thought his activity to be mindless fidgeting and nerves. I would be proven quite wrong.


    Once all were gathered the Pirate Captain, the Elder Clantor Matron, approached. She was a heavily armored killing machine, and clearly battle hardened. We had nothing that could stop her. The pirates made their usual declaration, and Kiiroth rose to the challenge without any hesitation. He charged in fangs bared and claws out so quickly that I think even the Matron was surprised and forced to go on the defensive. He scored a number of fast strikes, all aimed at joints. But the Matron shifted to cover them, and her shell was too strong. She watched his attempts for a few moments more, and then she struck. Kiiroth¡¯s death was quick. He bladed arms cut through him cleanly, he did not suffer.


    Knowing full well I would suffer the same result I then moved to step forward but was quite suddenly and firmly stopped in my tracks. The human, Conrad, had held out his suited arm and prevented me from moving. To say that I was surprised and alarmed would be a vast understatement. But then I saw his eyes. Eyes that burned with anger and determination, eyes that burned with purpose. He shook his head at me and stepped forward to confront the Matron.


    This was not something that we had seen in humans, it was not something that we had considered possible for them¡­I only knew right then that I needed to see more. I needed to witness what was coming. So, I let him. I let him stop me and take my place. I would not be disappointed with my decision.


    He turned his attention to the Matron with the focus of a tight beam laser. The very same behaviors that made me see him as a threat before were now on full display towards his enemy. He sized up the distance between them and pulled a tool off his Cargo suit¡¯s belt, it was the very same Void Welder that he had purchased some time ago.


    It wasn¡¯t until the two of them surged forward and clashed that I noticed something else. His loader¡¯s movements were far faster and smoother than was standard. I realized then that he had not been nervously fidgeting with his suit, but rather re-tooling it to override the safety mechanisms that prevented it from applying too much force. Though he kept his loading claws stowed as a way to prevent the Matron from carving through his suit as he blocked her attacks, he was able to quite deftly maneuver around her and stay in her blind spots. He had either noticed or suspected that her many legs would prevent her from turning fast enough to catch him. In the few short moments that Kiiroth had fought with her, Conrad had taken her measure and prepared accordingly. I watched this fight unfold with an eagerness I had not felt since I first saw a Master¡¯s Exhibition Match as a youngblood. Every free moment he had to strike; Conrad left another strip on the Matron, sometimes even switching which hand he held the Welder with. In the near 30 seconds that they fought he had left her covered with strips. She had so many on her that she looked as though a yearling had gotten into a stash of bandages.


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    Not satisfied with her inability to effectively track or attack him the Matron disengaged to make some space. Conrad took advantage of the opportunity and withdrew as well, dropping his now spent welder and pulling out a signal device. He gave a feral smile of triumph as he raised the device. I believe the Matron realized she was in danger, as she desperately tried to close the distance. Conrad did not give her the chance. He depressed the button and the Matron, quite literally, fell to pieces at his feet.


    We did not get a chance to revel in his victory as her younger contemporary, likely her spawn given its reaction, attacked immediately upon her death. With no time to prepare Conrad simply deployed his loading claws and pulled it apart like a cub does to flower.


    With this the battle became a brawl. A Tserith that appeared to be their head slave tender jumped in with its electro-staff. Conrad saw them coming and they struck at the same time. The Tserith succeeded in disabling the Loading Suit, paying for this minor victory with its life in a most spectacular way. The reptilian flew across the cargo bay and toppled the gathered pirate crew like a log through so much tinder. Those few left standing moved to engage as one.


    Now that the sanctity of single combat had been broken, I felt obligated to assist. A quick little Burrelan darted forward to try and rip Conrad¡¯s throat out with its teeth while he was stuck in the Loading Suit. Unfortunately for the rodent Conrad was faster and was free of his suit and ready by the time they got in range. The Burrelan got a sharp tool jammed through its jaw and into its brain instead of a mouth full of flesh.


    Two more followed close behind in an attempt to regain control of the situation. A Sarekh got too close without protecting itself and had its eye put out by a metal and canvas woven sash that Conrad wore to keep his garments in place. It came in range of my claws while reeling in pain. I captured it easily while maintaining my observation on Conrad. The last mobile pirate, a Corlian primate, tried his best to pummel the human into the deck plates. Again, Conrad surprised. He moved like an expert hunter seeking the flanks and soft parts of a great Vorla Beast. He controlled the Corlian with his arms and sash while stepping purposefully to control the engagement. His hands moved with the precision of a Master of the Hidden Claw. He first defended, then controlled and finally, immobilized and killed his target by closing his sash around their throat and snapping their neck with it. He again stood ready to receive any attack, but it was not to come.


    I had finally caught up to him with my captured pirate. The pitiful fools were now the ones cowering in fear. They may yet have been willing to attempt overpowering the human, as they still outnumbered him four to one. But they most certainly were not willing to do so with a Ruulothi Warrior standing at his side.


    With their leaders dead, the remaining pirates surrendered quickly. We emptied a large cargo container and locked them inside after relieving them of all their equipment. It took some time to soothe the rest of the crew and get them to return to their stations. This is something that I left to the Command Crew as my personal countenance would have done little to assuage their fears. Conrad seemed to also sense that any attempt by him to console his peers would not have the desired results. He set himself to cleaning the cargo bay and repairing his exo suit. He even paid respect to Kiiroth by asking me what our rituals entailed for our dead. I assured him that I would take care of it.


    The fight after the death of the Matron lasted only a total of 18 seconds. In those bare few moments Conrad had dispatched four of the most aggressive and predatory pirates in their crew with little more than the tools and objects he had at hand. All of the pirates killed clearly had experience in combat if their reflexes and emergency response times were any indication.


    I found Conrad¡¯s movements and choices during the fight, while most impressive, to be suspect. As I mentioned before, he claimed to have no military or combat experience. Yet every movement and technique was designed to give him the most amount of room to work for the least effort. He actively found the Matron¡¯s ¡°blindspot¡±, immediately knew the weakness of the younger Clantor, temporarily neutralized fully half of the remaining pirates by throwing their comrade into them, then strung out and isolated each of the last attacking pirates so that he only needed to fight them on an individual basis. He also appeared to be enjoying the challenge, something that I hope his shipmates did not pick up on, as it would sour their relations with him. These were not the actions of a species or individual that knew nothing of war or combat. These were actions and instincts on par with those of lifelong Battleclaws and Huntmasters.


    After the crew returned to their duty stations, I dug into his records again. They indeed indicated that he had been telling the truth. When I brought this to the Captain¡¯s attention he agreed that we would need, at the very least, to have a debriefing with Conrad. During my preparations for this interview I reviewed the camera footage of the incident and discovered something else. The reason none of the crew in the cargo area were harmed in the initial boarding was because Conrad had realized what was happening and directed the crew to the other end of the cargo bay, where he stood between them and the boarding pirates. It seems from the footage that he heard the airlock begin to cycle and made the split-second decision to get people moving. This likely saved several of their lives.


    During the debrief Conrad asserted that the information was correct, though he admitted that military and public service was a common method of employment for those of his people that live on the frontier planets. As such he knew many veterans, militia men, and law enforcement. That he could learn from their stories shows incredible intuition and intelligence, but the capability to do so does not mean that he should be capable of so easily and readily applying them. That is something that only comes from experience. So I pressed him further.


    He spoke willingly and freely about the conditions of his frontier planet Nueva Rio. He spoke about how despite the best intentions and efforts, there were always some humans who decided to live by taking from others, what we would call Broken Fangs. He spoke about how the planet would throw obstacles at them, weather or sudden animal attacks, and how he learned to hunt. He spoke about how even on a relatively new frontier planet the cities would have a dark side. He learned how to read crowds and people, how to limit avenues of attack using narrow confines like alleys or vehicles. He then spoke about his own Sheathed Claw, his own mentor. He had found her school as a young teenager, the rough equivalent of our Youngbloods. He stated that he studied personal combat there with her for 14 Terran years. He learned how to fight, how to spot an attacker, combat with personal weapons and how to use anything at hand to his advantage. He also learned how to direct a hostile crowd to minimize exposure and defend against surrounding attackers, something he called Shark Attack Training. When asked he claimed that learning a style of martial art is fairly common, and that most humans that serve or fight have learned at least some, though not many continue to learn as he did.


    First Claw, there is not just one system of combat amongst humans, but rather HUNDREDS. Many grew from different areas on their home world, many more have been created since, and they are still evolving them. Those styles that have withstood the test of time, when understood and applied correctly, are devastatingly effective. Many styles focus on a particular type of combat, some came into being to combat against armored foes, some specialize in weapons, some even focus on the use and retaining of firearms in close combat. All this from a species with no effective natural weapons. What¡¯s more, they call their fighting systems¡­ Martial Arts¡­ Arts, First Claw.


    Humans see the beauty in physical combat, in the perfection of form and technique, in the thrill of combat and the euphoria of an earned victory. They are not a weak species nor are they a timid species. They are Hidden Claws. They do not display this part of them until it is needed. Do not see them as Dull Fangs, but rather look to see the Sharp Fangs hidden in the Dull, for they are the ones that will catch you unaware. In fact, as I described earlier with Conrad¡¯s strange behavior, they seem to able apply the teachings of warriors in all aspects of their lives. Hiding their disciplines in plain sight. This is why I thought Conrad to be a patient aggressor when he first came aboard.


    If the troubles Conrad described are common across their territory, which he indeed said is quite standard, many humans, be they veterans or not, are more than capable of being the equivalent to Blooded Warriors. This sense of competition is ingrained in their society. I feel that, if bitten, they will turn around and bite back twice as hard. If this methodology has made its way even to their politicians, then I my hackles rise and ears flatten to think of the destruction they could be capable of when provoked.


    The interview continued until the Captain was satisfied. He concluded that the salvage and bounties would be plenty sufficient to cover the damage to the Exo suit caused by its unauthorized combat use, and that Conrad could return to his normal duties on the ship. Something I also had no objections to.


    I continued to speak with Conrad over the next week during our trip to port, much as I had directed Kiiroth to do. Thanks to my continued interest in their fighting styles he has said he would ask permission to extend me an invitation to visit his school and meet his Mentor. During this time one final thing came up that would be of import. He explained to me that the term ¡°Leonid¡± was never meant as an insult. Though he admitted that he could see the possibility when not given any context. Leonid refers to the Earth based species of creature called a Lion. Lions are among the largest of land-based apex predators on their home world. They are called the ¡°King of the Jungle¡± and have long been symbols of both Royalty and Loyalty.


    It was not a term of disrespect, but rather one of respect and awe. On first contact, we reminded them of a creature that they had long ago learned to respect and fear. In retrospect, there is actually no greater Honor.


    To reflect this, and to support the understandings that I will describe to you shortly, I have done one further thing. I have used my authority to grant Conrad the Mantle of Bloodclaws and have created and presented him with the Mantle so that any Ruulothi who sees him will know him to be an ally and worthy of respect. To support this decision, I have done two things. The first is attached to this VIM. It is the video record of the events in the cargo bay, so that you can see for yourself that what I have reported on both Conrad and Kiiroth is true. The second will take some time getting to you. I have cleaned, prepared and shipped the head of the Matron. It is my hope that this will take a place of honor in Kiiroth¡¯s family halls and that it gives them some solace that he both died honorably and was avenged. If I may make a final request in relation to this, I request to have the bestowing of the Mantle given a proper ceremony in Night Hall. This would give you the chance to meet Conrad and see him, and by extension his people, as I have. If luck holds then by that time I will have met his mentor and spent time on a human planet to observe them. It will also be a chance to give you a full report in person and present myself to you for Judgement of Duties.


    First Claw, I have come to believe that, regardless of their flaws, Humans are more than worthy of being our partners. I would strongly recommend that in some form or capacity we start relations with them on equal footing. I feel that it would strongly benefit us to have open and friendly channels with them. I understand that the Council will likely be against this, but it must start somewhere. If they will not take advantage of the opportunity, the Night Manes should.


    I understand that this may feel like I am attempting to take back my place as First Claw. I assure you that this is not true. Your Challenge of Position was a worthy one, and your victory was pure. The position of First Claw is yours, and I have sheathed my claws as you directed. Unlike others I do not see the position of Sheathed Claw to be a shameful one, but rather one of great importance. One that I intend to fulfill to the best of my ability. I have watched you grow and become a leader in this Clan long before your challenge. I trust your judgement.


    I know you to have the best interests of the Clan at heart.


    I know you will lead them well¡­ My Son.


    -End Transmission-

 Prologue 3. Conrads Message

    -Transmission Start-


    <u>Voice Interface Missive:</u>  Universal Date: 31872


    Sender: Cargo Freighter Dark Meridian. MCT Conrad Mclaughlin


    Destination: Nueva Rios


    Recipient/Address: Tania Silva Carvalho, Ave. Arcadius-37, Santa Carina City


    Master Silva, I hope the winter has not been too harsh this year and that the school is still as strong as ever. It has been a long while since I last spoke to you. I think¡­ the day I was officially assigned to the Dark Meridian as a Cargo Tech? I need to thank you again for the reference. I know it seems like a little thing, but recent events have brought new information to light. It seems that your reference may have held more clout than either of us could have predicted. I may well have never got the job without it.


    Things started off about as one would expect. It took some time to get acclimated, I have to admit that it is unexpectedly nerve wracking to be the only member of your species in an unknown environment, especially one filled with species you have never even heard of. I took things slow, keeping my head down and trying not to draw undue attention to myself. I spent time trying to listen and learn about each of these different peoples, so I didn¡¯t make a complete fool of myself or accidentally scare anyone. I really didn¡¯t want my first interaction to end in them running scared and getting me kicked off the ship.


    In the end, I don¡¯t think I needed to worry so much. Most of them are roughly the GalCom equivalent of blue-collar working species. As long as I wasn¡¯t being actively aggressive, they really couldn¡¯t have cared less. Well, Polite blue-collar workers. They certainly don¡¯t get nearly as rowdy or as... Off Topic as humans do.


    This all made integrating a lot easier once I finally felt confident enough to talk to them. Most of the talk was pretty standard, work, family, Galactic Politics and Events, the occasional gripe. It was oddly comforting to know that, no matter what arm of the galaxy you came from, most intelligent species worried about the same things. I eventually got to know most of the crew. The vast majority of them were trade workers like me, all taking care of necessary elements of running the ship. There was also the Command Crew, the ones who worked on the bridge and oversaw everything. I became pretty good friends with one of them, a Verach named Jjatha who serves as the Navigator. He seems to be endlessly curious, and we talked at length about Nueva Rios, Earth, humanity and his own species and home world. He got quite a shock when I showed him a picture of a fruit bat. He couldn¡¯t believe how closely an alien creature resembled his own species.


    I think the most surprising part of my time on the ship was when one of the Security Officers wanted to sit down and talk. They were both Ruulothi, the big warrior cats that seem to want nothing to do with humanity, so it was a bit of a shock when one of them approached me to talk¡­ about anything really. Kiiroth wasn¡¯t too particular about the subjects at first, but eventually he became more and more interested in our history, especially history around wars and conflicts. I guess as an aspiring warrior he wanted to learn all he could about war and combat, no matter the source. It was a smart move, like you always say, ¡°Learn from someone else¡¯s experience and mistakes so you don¡¯t make the same ones.¡±


    I was not entirely blind to what was happening, you taught me better than that. I know the two of them were testing me for something at first. I still don¡¯t really know what they were looking for, but I guess they were satisfied because nothing ever came of it. In the end I didn¡¯t mind because Kiiroth was interesting and fun to talk to. His people were very honor bound and kind of rigid thinkers, so his willingness to interact with me was a bit beyond the norm. I didn¡¯t want to discourage it by confronting him about it. He didn¡¯t speak much on his own people, but I picked up some stuff from him using personal experiences as comparisons. Kiiroth was on a Journey of Finding. Basically, he was apprenticed to an older Ruulothi to work and to find out what he was capable of. This would then be reported back to their clan and Kiiroth would be appropriately assigned from there. The Security Chief, Ruufaarl is what they call a Sheathed Claw¡­ I guess you can call him a retired warrior? I am not one hundred percent on that though. It is something that Kiiroth let slip on accident. When I asked what it meant he shut down, it seemed as though it was a sensitive subject, so I didn¡¯t pry any further. While I don¡¯t know how he felt on the matter, I think we had become pretty good friends over the course of the last year.


    The work I do is surprisingly steady. We don¡¯t often have too much down time, even while the ship is in transit. Thanks to the wonders of supra-light interstellar travel the issues humanity had with intercontinental shipping are practically non-existent. We pull into port, off-load assigned cargo, on-load new merchandise and are ready to go after all the paperwork and red tape has been taken care of. If someone wants shore leave, we stay long enough for that to be taken care of, but then we are off again.


    Honestly, the only places that even see someone taking shore leave are major planets and homeworlds, or the occasional tourist destination and doing so requires advance notice so that they can file the appropriate flight plans and schedules. Mining colonies, frontier worlds, backwaters and stations rarely have anyone who wants to stay and visit, so our turnaround is usually pretty quick. Once we are under way, we triple check that everything is stowed properly, preform our Preventative Maintenance tasks and prep for Jump. Jumps are incredibly quick, so travel time is strange. Most of our travel time is spent getting from the jump point to the destination and back again. Sometimes it is as little as a few days, others maybe up to a week. On our way in we start getting the destination¡¯s shipment ready for delivery. We do a final check to make sure nothing has moved or shifted, then we track down the cargo containers we need for our destination and plan out our paths for getting them ready to deliver. We don¡¯t move the larger containers during transit, that would just be plain stupid. But we often will re-arrange the smaller containers in transit one or two at a time to make our job easier later on.


    Even that is strange to me, but it is a GalCom thing that they do to increase efficiency. Honestly, a lot of their policies don¡¯t make much sense to me, or really even humanity in general come to think of it. And this is coming from a people that need to have warning labels that ¡°Hot things are Hot¡± and ¡°Closing doors can hurt you¡± and ¡°Electricity and Water don¡¯t mix¡± and ¡°Opening Airlocks in space is Bad.¡±


    Euughh¡­speaking of space being bad. I had to order out of my own pocket a Void Welder after the ship took some sort of micro-meteorite strike mid transit. It left a hole in the hull and was rattling around in the cross section of outer hull that it breached. They apparently don¡¯t keep things on hand to fix issues like that and just get them taken care of in the next port. I mean, I get that they make things to perfection, use triple hulls, and honeycomb the support structures under the outer skin to localize any breaches, but how can you seriously go into space without spare parts or tools to fix damage?


    Oh, AND they almost didn¡¯t let me keep it. The Chief had to talk the Captain into allowing it because it, ¡°Wasn¡¯t approved or properly evaluated equipment¡±. I swear he refused to acknowledge that Humanity has been using them for hundreds of years. But now that I am thinking about it, the Chief¡¯s approval is odd on its own. I don¡¯t think I had ever even spoken one word to him before that. Well, it was after I had started talking with Kiiroth, so I guess maybe he had heard enough to trust my judgement by then? It seems weird that he would support me at all given the Ruulothi¡¯s disdain for humanity. I am not going to complain though, it all worked out in the end.


    I think the best part of my job is getting to use the exo suit. These things are just plain fun, and their acronym for them is H.E.M.I.! I suppose it is human humor, but I always get a chuckle out of it when I put one on. The suit amplifies the user¡¯s strength by a phenomenal amount, while utilizing servos and hydraulics to limit the top speed and power levels at which one can move, so that no one puts a hole in the hull or in valuable merchandise. Being that our standard gravity is higher than normal, on both Earth and Nueva Rios, that makes humans especially impressive to the Galactics when using one. I had a race once with Kivan, the gantry crane operator, to see who could move the same number and weight of cargo units fastest. He beat me, but only just. I think if our experience levels had been equal, I would have taken him.


    Don¡¯t worry, we were being safe. We made sure there was no one else in the bay when we raced, and the containers were empty, so no cargo was at risk.


    Speaking of cargo, most of what we move is personal items, food and supplies, so the vast majority of our cargo is held internally in pressurized bays. The Meridian does have a pair of racks each on the dorsal and ventral sides for the REALLY big containers that carry equipment and raw ores and such. Those containers are usually handled by Station Gantries and Cargo Tugs. The Cargo Locks are really just air locks that are big enough to fit two by two stacked large cargo containers on top of a grav-trolley through. They also have a smaller airlock next to them for foot traffic so that no one gets run over during cargo transfer.


    I know you either don¡¯t need to know all that, or already do, but it is important information to what comes next. Important to what I have been working up to talking about this whole time.


    We¡­ were kind of¡­ boarded by Pirates. I didn¡¯t even realize this was a thing. You would think that being the great Galactic Community they would have found a way to stamp that out by now¡­though maybe stamp isn¡¯t the right word, not too many of them do any meaningful stamping.


    These guys, they meant some serious business. They weren¡¯t the, ¡°Hand over everything you have¡± type of pirates. They were the, ¡°Enslave you and/or eat you¡± kind of pirates. They were led by these MASSIVE freaking praying mantis things, Clantor they were called. They had arms like swords and their shells were harder than steel.


    I don¡¯t know much about how they caught us, that was all dealt with by the Command Crew. But I was working in the cargo bay where they boarded at. You remember that old space opera movie when the guys in weird helmets had their ship boarded and were looking all around before the doors got ripped open? It was kinda like that. Our engines went off, then there was some seriously loud clanging. None of us in the cargo bay knew what was going on. I guess it slipped the Captain¡¯s mind to tell the ship, or maybe that is some sort of weird GalCom policy. They really do have a lot of them don¡¯t they?


    After the banging stopped I very faintly heard the personnel airlock start to cycle. I realized then what was happening thanks in no small part to that movie. None of the other crew members in the area seemed to understand, so I moved to get them as far away from the airlock as possible. I knew without a doubt that whatever was coming through there wasn¡¯t going to be friendly. I managed to get my crewmates gathered and moving towards some stacks of smaller crates, but there wasn¡¯t enough time to run or hide. If I had a few more moments I might have been able to move some of the crates around and hidden us among them, but they came through the airlock too quick. I WAS thinking to try and fight to buy them some time, but when those monster bug things came through¡­ I, uhh¡­ I froze. I didn¡¯t know what to do, or really even what I could do. My mind just straight went blank.


    I guess that not moving is what was expected though? Soooo there is that I suppose, as they didn¡¯t just cut us down immediately. Instead they posted guards with these weird taser sticks to keep watch while they went and searched the ship. I have one of those things now and can bring it to you next time I am in system. They are freaking cool!


    I, uhh, kinda stashed it when I was cleaning up after the whole thing ended¡­¡­¡­. Does that¡­ Does that make me a smuggler now?


    Umm, do¡­they keep recordings of these and review them?... Ahh, crap.


    Soooo¡­ anyway. They were a pretty serious looking bunch. I¡¯m pretty sure they were all some sort of predator species. My other crewmen were pretty solidly subservient at that point. They kept their eyes to the ground and huddled together. It didn¡¯t take long for more to arrive, and they all did essentially the same thing, huddled together with the ones they came in with and kept their heads down. I remembered then what the spacers back home had said about the bug people, the Clantor, ¡°Killed in Battle or Held as Chattle.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t going to get eaten without a fight.


    I started to work on my exo rig. Little by little I altered the safety limiters that had been hardwired in. The guards watching us looked like they might do something, but then decided it wasn¡¯t their problem. Ambivalence and Complacency really are killers, at least one of them would come to regret that decision later.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    While I was doing that, I took stock of my tools to see if I could possibly do anything with them. I didn¡¯t really have much, as I mentioned before GalCom doesn¡¯t really DO emergency maintenance. But I still had a few human hand tools as the ¡°designated human¡± and because we would sometimes pick up human shipping crates from places that we stopped at. The Captain would assure them that he had a Human on the crew while making the deals so¡­that¡­ Son of a¡ª


    I just realized I¡¯m a diversity hire.


    The Captain brought me on so that he could access new markets on human populated planets. You know, he may be a money-grubbing bureaucratic toady¡­ but he is a clever money grubber.


    Anyway, what was I¡­ Oh yeah, my tools.


    Like I said, I didn¡¯t have much. All I saw at first was the screwdriver and wrench, but then I remembered that I carried the Welder in a sealed container strapped to the back of my rig. The more I thought about it, the more I became convinced that it might be the only thing that could stop the bugs.


    I continued to tinker and gather my tools until they finished bringing people in. The last two groups brought to the cargo bay was the Command Crew and Security. I have to admit to being surprised at the time that the Ruulothi hadn¡¯t gone down fighting. Ruufaarl explained it to me later, and I suppose it makes sense that if you know you are going to die, at least do it in such a way as to be remembered.


    The Captain didn¡¯t say anything to the pirates, he just stuck with the Command Crew. But he was talking to them, and over all they seemed to be much better off mentally than any of the other crew. None of the Command Crew were sunken in on themselves. They all had their heads up and were watching events unfold. Though they clearly had no intention of fighting.


    The Ruulothi though¡­ I think my greatest regret in all of this wasn¡¯t that I killed a bunch of people to save everyone, but that I couldn¡¯t save ONE person in particular. I simply wasn¡¯t fast enough.


    Once everyone had been gathered and accounted for, the big bug (Ruufaaarl later told me it was a Matron) stepped forward and told us we could fight for our freedom or become slaves. I don¡¯t think that the thing had even finished before Kiiroth had launched himself at it. I didn¡¯t even have time to move he was so fast. Even the bug seemed to be taken aback as it actually recoiled a bit. He went after her like a Riosian Darter goes after chickens. Just a straight out, full bore assault. It was impressive, but impressive simply wasn¡¯t enough. The bug¡¯s exoskeleton was too hard, nothing he did would have gotten through it. And her arm blades, they must have been beyond razor sharp, because Kiiroth came apart as though he had been made of little more than soap suds when she finally went after him.


    I can¡¯t even begin to describe everything I felt then. Fear, absolutely. Dread, probably. But most of all, after seeing Kiiroth get shredded like that, all I could identify was seething, white hot, rage.


    I didn¡¯t give in to it, as hard as it was and as much as I may have wanted to, but I for damn sure used it. I let it build and build before I pushed myself to the front and rode the wave. I felt more than saw Ruufaarl ready himself, so I stopped him. I think that took him more by surprise than anything else I have done. I don¡¯t really even know if I looked at him then, but he didn¡¯t argue or fight me. At that point I was cresting the wave, and as soon as I got control of myself again, I relaxed and moved. I knew what I needed to do, and I was going to kill that bitch if it was the last thing I did. And I was going to do it with the Welder.


    Do you remember when we, as a class, pestered you to teach us Kung Fu so badly that you finally relented, but you said that if we were going to learn it, we were going to learn it the way the founders had? Do you remember how you got us all these animal documentaries about the Five animals and forced us to watch them again and again, to learn from how the actual animals themselves moved and hunted and fought? Thank you for that.


    I still remember it being a lesson in humility and respect, but it served its purpose. I don¡¯t think I would have survived this day if it wasn¡¯t for those videos. It is because of them that I knew most bugs had extreme difficulty reacting to and facing things on their flanks; that as fast as a praying mantis was from the front, from the sides and back it was virtually helpless.


    I kept that in my head as we clashed. I dodged and maneuvered to stay away from the bloody arm blades, blocking with the rig¡¯s claws when I needed to. Every time I got in range, I slapped another strip of cutting agent on her body. I managed to stay ahead of her, but I was going to need her to break away first. I knew that if I did it, she would take full advantage and simply cut me to ribbons. So, I waited, and as I waited, I put more and more strips on her.


    I can¡¯t really say there was any technique or direction to our fight, I was just scrambling to stay away from her arms or to protect myself when she got close enough to strike. Thankfully the loading claws are solid and dense metal, so she couldn¡¯t get through them. She still got some ancillary hits in on the rest of the rig though, her blades were long and had a concave curve after all. She did eventually realize that she needed to change tactics, and she broke off the clash first.


    I used the opportunity to back even further away, and boy am I glad that I did. If I had let only her determine the range of the engagement at that point, whether through relief or hubris, she would have skewered me.


    But, standing there as we were, I pulled out the clicker, and I knew I had her. I grinned from ear to ear. It was an absolutely feral grin, the smile of someone who knew they had won against all odds.


    I think some body language must transcend the boundaries of species and space, because I saw her fear at that moment. I can¡¯t accurately describe it, but SHE knew that I knew I had won, but she didn¡¯t know how, and it terrified her. It must have been a momentary freeze or recoil of some kind that I saw. But I knew, without any doubt, that she had seen her death in my eyes.


    She launched herself forward to try and get to me. Like I said, if I hadn¡¯t taken more space, she would have succeeded. But I was too far away, and I hit the clicker.


    To say that burning chitin reeks would be a massive understatement, not to mention the cutting agents and whatever else was in her that got torched. She just, fell apart like some toppled ice or stone sculpture. I about gagged when the cloud of¡­bug hit me.


    I think I may have over done it with the cutting strips.


    I didn¡¯t have any time to recover either as the second bug, this one smaller and, apparently, younger and weaker, tried to take advantage of my distraction and came at me from the side. I had stayed aware of my surroundings though. I fully deployed my rigs claws before it got to me and locked onto it with them, one on a blade arm and the other on its head. As strong as it was, it wasn¡¯t strong enough to fight free of hydraulic clamps, nor was it able to flex and bend like endoskeletal creatures can. I pulled as I crushed with the claws, and it came apart far easier than I had expected.


    After that, things happened incredibly fast.


    I hadn¡¯t felt it when I was fighting the bugs, I think I was too damn focused on simply staying ahead of them and staying alive, too damned angry at them. But once they were dead¡­ once my targets were dead¡­ once the others came for me and my rage started to subside, that was when I felt the adrenaline dump hit. That was when my mind and senses went into overdrive and time seemed to slow. That was when everything came flooding back. I remembered exactly what I had on hand to fight with, everything you had taught me over the many years, it all came back.


    And I used it all. The first one hit me with that taser stick at the same time I hit him with the claws, and Holy Hannah did he go flying. I was hoping to just use him to trip up anyone coming behind him, but he went crashing through them like I was playing candlestick. His taser thing had disabled the rig though, so that was no longer an option and just dead weight. I hit my emergency release and saw another one running in at me as I was getting clear. I grabbed the only thing at hand, my screwdriver, and jammed it up under its jaw. I don¡¯t know what it was doing running in face first, but I am not going to complain if they want to make it easy for me.


    The screwdriver got stuck, so now that was gone, and more were coming. The only thing I now had on hand was my belt.


    All those rope and sash and chain techniques really came in handy. I knocked the next attacker away by striking its eye with the belt cap and the second, some big bruiser of a monkey, tried splattering my head like a watermelon.


    I hope you will forgive me given the circumstances. I know you said to never use any of the assassination techniques you taught those few of us you thought could handle the instruction. But I REALLY needed it right then.


    After the monkey man was dead, Ruufaarl came over with the one I had knocked away and just growled menacingly at the pirates that were still getting up after I knocked them over. They hesitated while weighing their options. In the end they decided that they no longer had a chance, and I took the opportunity to throw their words back in their faces.


    I told them, ¡°Surrender or die.¡±


    I felt like a complete badass.


    The feeling I had once it was all over, once I knew that I had survived¡­that we had WON. It was unlike any other. The sheer energy surge from the adrenaline and the euphoria and relief that we were going to live, because of something I had done¡­ It was like standing on top of a mountain in a thunderstorm.


    A mountain of bodies in this case¡­ a very¡­ small mountain. But it still felt like a mountain.


    I think I was grinning like an idiot.


    I had always liked to fight in a way, even in the few actual fights I wound up getting into after we moved from Earth to Nueva Rios, fights that were more beat downs of the new kid than real fights. But this, this felt like nothing else.


    After the fight, things were a bit tense. We emptied a couple of cargo containers and stuffed the surviving pirates in one, then the remains into another. Ruufaarl said that he would take care of Kiiroth in the way of their people, so at least I didn¡¯t need to do that part.


    The rest of the crew¡­ wouldn¡¯t really look at me though. It was almost like I was some new horrific thing to them. I kept my distance. The only ones who didn¡¯t seem to think I was suddenly going to turn around and eat them were Jjatha and Ruufaarl, and the Captain. It got a little better by the time we made port, mostly because we still needed to work together to get things done, but the tension was still there. I think Jjatha had been making some ground in smoothing things over, but there was still a long way to go.


    I went through a debrief with the Captain and the Chief. I guess they thought after my performance that I had lied about not having served. I had to explain to them that the records were factual. The Captain didn¡¯t seem to much care in the end, he was only worried abut the delay that had been caused and how this would affect his bottom line. Once he was satisfied that I would continue to work as I had and not cause any problems, he left the interview.


    The Chief continued his questions though. I think he may have been concerned that he was harboring a deserter or possible threat and he wanted to get to the bottom of his concerns, knowing this I accommodated him as much as possible. I told him about how we grew up on Nueva Rios, about how it is a ranching world at the moment, and as such requires that we learn hunting and stalking. I told him about how dangerous the world can get, all the threats it throws at us despite our preparations, and about how dangerous the cities can get. I told him about the Dojo, and the background of militia, military and public service that most people in the colonies have.


    He seemed to understand and he allowed the interview to become more informal after. I think it may have been because his people are a warrior race and this sort of thing is something that they are familiar with. What I didn¡¯t understand though is how surprised he was to hear it. After that he asked if he could continue to talk with me as Kiiroth had done. He said he wanted to learn more about humanity, as we did not seem to be matching his estimations.


    I don¡¯t know what he was looking for, but we did continue to talk. He took special interest in how we conduct ourselves in fighting and combat, this is why I wanted to invite him to the Dojo when we swing by on our route. Do you suppose that ¡°The Art of War¡± has been translated into GSL yet? I think it would be something that would interest him greatly. That and historical records of our great heroes and battles. Figures like Alexander the Great, Ghengis Khan, and Spartacus and battles like Thermopylae, the Battle of the Bulge, and Shiroyama. That last one in particular I think would be right up his alley with the Ruulothi¡¯s rules and honor codes.


    OH! He gave me something as well, a marker of achievements from his people. He called it a Mantle of the Bloodclaws. It¡¯s some kind of a hip-cape, black with a red border and red markings on it, that serves as a visual record of personal achievements. This one has markings for a Blooded Warrior. Looking at it now I recognize some of the markings. Ruufaarl has a short half cape with many similar markings on it. I had always thought it was a fashion piece of some sort. But now I think it is his personal records¡­ and boy are there a lot of markings on it. It kind of reminds me of those old world goofy fake generals with all the medals and ribbons on their chest, even though they never did anything. Except there is no doubt in my mind that he absolutely has earned every single one of those markings.


    He said the Mantle would prove to any Ruulothi that I was an ¡°ally and worthy of respect.¡± I don¡¯t know why he did it, but I know very well he is not someone to doing things without reason. I think this may be some sort of political thing? Does this mean I am some sort of ambassador? I hope not, I REALLY hate politics¡­ But if this means I could step into the ring with some of our politicians like the Ruulothi do¡­ heh hehhh. Oooohhh THAT would be fun. Just think about how much things would change if our senile and arrogant, or ignorant and loudmouthed, talking heads had to conduct ritual combat to defend and justify keeping their position because of their asinine policies. Maaaann that would fix so much of the BS.


    These last few days have been... one heck of a ride, and it has opened my eyes. I understand a lot of things now that I may never have before this all happened. I get why you put us through so many drills, why you pushed and insisted and disciplined us to be humble. You taught us to remember that we all have faults, to respect others and not let our accomplishments or our emotions go to our heads. And when we didn¡¯t remember, you knocked it back into us¡­repeatedly.


    I don¡¯t think I ever thanked you properly for that by the way. After my family moved, I was in a real dark place. I was just a kid and didn¡¯t understand what was happening or why. I didn¡¯t know why we had to leave everything and everyone behind to come to this strange planet in what might well have been the literal middle of nowhere on the other end of the damn galaxy.


    I was acting out, fighting with my parents, with the local kids, and just being a pest in general. I think that if I had gone on much longer like that I would more than likely have wound up running with the local street kids and gotten arrested. I don¡¯t know why or how you convinced my parents to bring my mouthy punk ass by your dojo after I had slammed into you and acted like some ankle biter dog. I was what¡­ 11? 12?


    I have no idea what you saw then but, thank you, for convincing them. Thank you for putting me in my place, and for picking me up when I needed it to be done, for showing me there is more than what was left behind. Thank you for teaching me not to quit. Not to quit on my family, on others, or myself.


    Thank you for fighting for me.


    And¡­ uuuh. Please don¡¯t kick my ass for all this when I come home?... Please?


    -End of Transmission-

 Chapter One

    -Conrad-


    Conrad opened his eyes to murky darkness as a warning tone sounded. He sighed as he stretched and gained his bearings, feeling the chill of metal plate and the background hum of machinery through the wall he was laying against seep in and sharpen his senses. The tone sounded again and this time he groaned in response before rolling off his bunk and hitting the lighting sensor, momentarily blinding himself as he forgot to shut his eyes against the impending brightness. The tone sounded for a third time and he sent a drowsy slap towards the offending sound, scoring a hit on the info terminal that was sounding the wake up alarm for his shift, silencing it.


    He stripped and stepped into the sanitation pod, bracing himself for the cleaning cycle. Despite having served on the ship for around a year he had yet to get used to the sonic cleaning system. It just felt... grating... wrong... off to him, like one of those dreams where you KNEW something was there and hunting you, but couldn''t find any sign of it. He knew it wasn''t supposed to be possible to feel or hear it, but it still set him on edge in a way that felt somehow worse than sine wave emitters. Though, through trial and error, he had found a way to make it at least tolerable. He closed his eyes, plugged his ears and opened his mouth after hitting the start button, much like one would do to avoid the worst effects of a stun grenade. The first time he had used the sani-pod he found out the hard way that gritting his teeth against the vibrations made things far worse. The side effect of his current technique was that his mouth tasted like ozone for about an hour after for some reason. Despite this discomfort, he felt this was a fair trade for not feeling like he was going to be vibrated to dust.


    He REALLY missed taking REAL showers. But this was Space, and clean water was a precious resource, not to be wasted or squandered. So, sanitation pods it was.


    Overall, he knew he had no right to complain. All crew had their own small cabin after all. If this had been a human ship, they would likely be hot bunked in communal sleeping areas with tiny bunk bays and no real chance at privacy. Also, the food was both varied and pretty good. If the sani-pods were his biggest complaint, then he considered it to be an overwhelming win.


    At least, that was how it HAD been. He sighed again and slumped a bit as the cleaning cycle completed and his thoughts turned to musing about the recent past.


    It had been almost three weeks now since the ship had been attacked. The crew had stayed away from him after the fight, at the time he hadn''t thought anything of it, it seemed a reasonable reaction to the events after all. The ship had been held over in port longer than they would have normally stayed to get paperwork and investigations cleared. This served to get the Captain antsy to move as every hour he stayed idle he lost out on revenue, and that was simply unacceptable for him. They were now almost in port to their next destination, and Conrad was still having issues with the crew avoiding him.


    Jjatha was one of the few that had made the effort to speak with him, an effort that he deeply appreciated. Unfortunately, the Captain had lately tasked Jjatha with going over chart after chart to try and find a way to make up for the time they had lost after the attack, so he had been unable to speak with the Verach for almost a week now. The navigator had been attempting to work as the middleman between Conrad and the rest of the crew in order to assuage any fears the rest of the crew might have. He had been making some progress, but with his being tied up in the Command module things had returned to their previous state for most of the crew.


    Conrad really couldn''t blame them, he was plenty intelligent and self aware enough to realize that they were just scared. They saw him as a ticking bomb, or maybe as a wolf in sheep''s clothing. This person, who they had been happily interacting with without a care, who had seemed to be one of them, had suddenly and spectacularly shown a completely different side. Conrad''s actions during the fight, though they had saved the crew from fates worse than simple death, were something that they only expected from certain distinctly predatory races.


    To them, he was no longer simply Maintenance and Cargo Technician Conrad McLaughlin... he was a threat. Not only that, but he was a threat that had already gotten them to lower their guard around him, who had worked his way into their circles without detection. His capacity for eating meat aside, there were after all a few other GalCom races that were omnivorous and not outright predators that could eat meat, he had shown that he had a predator''s capacity for violence without the outward signs of that capacity.


    That was what truly scared them. The idea that he could turn at any moment and kill with whatever happened to be at hand, and do it well.


    Conrad shook himself again and focused on getting ready. He grabbed his clothes from the under-bunk storage and began to dress. But, try as he might, he couldn''t stop the lingering darkness in his mind from returning.


    He knew it, he understood it, but he just couldn''t simply get over it. Their giving him the cold shoulder, though understandable as a part of the initial shock, grated on him. He was having a damn hard time reconciling having become a pariah for saving them. The more he thought about it, the more he alone and homesick he felt. He wasn''t asking for accolades or recognition; he just didn''t want to be cast out.


    He looked down into the storage that was still open and thought to himself, "Speaking of recognition."


    He reached down and pulled out the Mantle that Ruufarrl had given him. It was a beautiful piece of work that was cut with geometric lines and edges. The fabric looked to be something similar to silk and had a black background with a crimson red border and a golden spun rope as the belt. On the upper front corner was a metallic, blood wine red, embroidered symbol of four claw marks set inside a octagonal polygon with four long parallels and four shorter diagonal parallels. He still didn''t know everything that the Bloodclaw Mantle stood for or meant, Ruufarrl for some reason had not explained it fully. It was something that he was going to need to spend some time researching on the GalNet. He did know that it was unprecedented given the current state of Human-Ruulothi politics, and that it was something to not take lightly. Not only did the Ruulothi not do anything without reason, but they were a honor and tradition bound species, and making light of something they took stock in would give mortal insult.


    Not only that, but Ruufarrl had proven to be more than worthy of respect and trust, just as much as Kiiroth had. The two of them had spoken at length about the encounter and the potential ramifications of it. Ruufarrl was the one that had given some much needed context to the crew''s reaction and had encouraged Conrad to not worry overmuch about it, it was simply the ways of the Galactics. Knowing and doing though, were proving to be two very different beasts to tackle.


    If it hadn''t been for Jjatha and Ruufarrl, he knew he would have gone to a dark place mentally. He paused as he shut the Mantle back into the storage cubby and cocked his head at his own inner monologue. Now that he thought about it, it was possible that the crew was picking up on his darker mood as well. Conrad nodded at his own line of thought and drew a tight, almost grim smile. Maybe he could put in a little more effort himself. Relationships are two-way streets after all.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Morning self-doubt and therapy session complete, Conrad stood straight and steeled himself with a stretch and deep breath, then touched the door release and left to get breakfast and lose himself in work.


    ______________________________________________________________________________


    Conrad had come to a concrete conclusion. "Being ostracized isn''t ALL bad, I suppose,"  he thought as he moved a couple more smaller containers to clear a large container for offloading. "It certainly has made it easier to move around in the bay with no one wanting to come near me."


    His personal work efficiency had actually improved under the current conditions. Despite his best efforts to try and smooth things over with his crewmates, he hadn''t made much headway in the days before they made port. The Foreman spoke to him normally, even if she was a bit curt when she did, but then again, that was her job. The Gantry Tech, Kivan, worked with him just fine and spoke to him while on shift. He was also willing to eat with him if Jjatha was there, but otherwise wouldn''t really mix with him when off shift for fear of ostracizing himself, and hadn''t said anything about the attack to him. Conrad really didn''t have any other way of describing the way the others were acting outside of Herd Mentality. He was sure there was some sort of Scientific term for it, but hell if he had paid enough attention in school to remember it. As it was he had taken to posting a notice of where he would be working in the bay so that there would be no confusion or accidents caused by him showing up suddenly. This served double purpose, as it meant that the rest of the loaders could have a peace of mind that allowed them to work normally, something the Captain had started to complain about before Conrad got the idea to post his work assignment.


    The actions of the crew were starting to make him wonder now about the nature of the Galactics in general. The more he thought about it the more he was thinking that there was some sort of hierarchy or caste system in place. He had never read about anything of the sort, but there was certainly a distinct difference in the ways that some of the Galactics were handling things. Predatory species and Security personnel aside, there was a clear difference in the way that the workers reacted and the way that the Captain, Command Crew and Supervisors handled things. He wouldn''t exactly call it a difference in Mental Conditioning, though that may well be a part of it. It would take extensive training to get people to react in the same way like that, extensive training he knew the stingy Galactic Bureaucracy wouldn''t bother to pay out for. So it had to be something else. Something possibly cultural, or maybe even something deeper than that. Conrad hadn''t heard of any GalCom species actively practicing genetic and psychological manipulations, but it couldn''t be ruled out.


    He racked his brain while he worked to come up with some sort of plausible solution, but he couldn''t find a Silver Bullet answer. Finally, he shrugged and put it in a mental box to ask Ruufarrl about at a later time. Maybe on this topic he could get a straight answer out of the increasingly, and smugly, cryptic cat. The Chief still wouldn''t answer him about anything concerning the Mantle. Ruufarrl didn''t seem like he was intentionally hiding information from him, he knew it was important and seemed to understand Conrad''s need to know. It appeared to Conrad more like he wasn''t answering because he didn''t yet know part of the answer himself. Which was strange considering the Chief was the one that gave it to him in the first place. That didn''t stop the Ruulothi from taking some amusement from Conrad''s frustrations on the topic, as he liked to gently tweak that little dagger every so often.


    Conrad chuckled to himself and shook his head. "All in due time, I suppose." There wasn''t any real need to worry about it, it was just a burning curiosity for now. He continued his work with a little more pep than he had been feeling for the last few weeks. He had thought some more about what to do, and he realized that he was coming up on the end of his tour. In a month from now they would return to Nueva Rios, and he would have the opportunity to end his service tour, or re-up. This realization lifted the weight he had been carrying as he knew that, one way or another, he would soon have options. With the experience from this tour under his belt he should be able to easily sign on to another vessel, or maybe even get hired out to a star port somewhere. He didn''t want to settle in and stay at Nueva Rios just yet, he still felt the need to explore and see new things.


    "Loho, Conrad."


    The unexpected voice in his ear made him jump and lose his train of thought. Thankfully the claws on his exo-rig were locked in place until told otherwise, so at least he didn''t drop the containers he was holding. He had a brief moment of confusion before he realized who it was that had called for him, and who was chuckling at his startled display.


    "Hey! Kivan! You need to warn me before you go whispering sweet nothings in my ear."


    "Aww, and here I thought we had something special. You certainly are jumpy today. What is nipping at your heels?"


    "I.... I was just thinking about what to do next month."


    "...Next Month?" There was a long pause before he heard a sigh com over the comm. "I see."


    Kivan sounded...hesitant? Conrad started to reply, but then waited patiently for his coworker to organize his own thoughts. But when the response finally came, it was short.


    "I am... not sure what to say to that."


    "No worries. Just trying to plan ahead is all. Get all my ducks in a row."


    ¡°Ducks? What are ducks?¡±


    Conrad laughed in spite of the tension he was feeling, "They are a type of small swimming avian. It''s just a phrase, it means to get things prepared before making a move."


    "Then why not say that instead? I swear, you humans make language so much more difficult than it needs to be."


    "Hey, not my fault. My native language mugged all the other regional languages in a back alley to make up for its deficiencies. Things being difficult to understand is just par for the course."


    "Par for?... Never mind, I don''t want to know, my head is hurting already. Listen, there has been a change in the loading schedule. It appears that the items in CC-91874 fetch better prices here, so the Captain wants us to offload that container here, and pick up replacements in the next system at a lower price to complete the original order. You are going to need to switch over to Sector 4 to facilitate that, I can finish things here."


    Conrad closed his eyes and sighed in frustration at the Captain''s money grubbing antics, then looked up at the Gantry Cab as it moved silently overhead. "Alright. I will finish this stack then head on over, send me the location data. And... could you direct anyone working there to a different section? I don''t want to ruin their day."


    "I... yes, I can do that."


    The line went quiet as Conrad went about finishing his work. He thought it meant the conversation was over, but then it opened again.


    "I know that things have been, different, since the attack. I cannot really speak on why other than to say it is... complicated. I do not really know if I can even explain it, and if I do not say this now, I may not get a chance or be able to later. Just... I am sorry for not being able to stand aside like you do. I thank you, as would my family. I did not want to be eaten."


    For a brief moment, Conrad felt that pit he had been covering and ignoring yawn open again. Except this time, instead of pulling him in, it overflowed. He shut as quickly as it opened, but took a moment to gather himself. He again felt something that he had not realized was tight relax. He wasn''t alone after all.


    "I understand...and thank you, for saying something." He collected his thoughts for a moment before smiling maliciously...it was game on again.


    "But I don''t think you needed to worry about being eaten."


    "Truly? How so?"


    "Because you are too stringy, if anything they would have used you as floss."


    "Wha-Hey-What!? I will have you know that I am a picture perfect Taladian."


    Conrad laughed as he looked up at the Gantry again to see Kivan shaking his head and waving him on. "Yeah, and you are still a bean pole."


    "Beh. Get your ass over to Sector 4 you heathen."


    His mood suddenly much lighter, Conrad did exactly that.


    ______________________________________________________________________________


    After his workday was over, Conrad spent his allotted time in the Galley. He saw Kivan there, and the two of them shared a covert acknowledgement. It was a little thing, but it reinforced the feeling that he wasn''t completely cast out, that there were still people who recognized him as who he was. Jjatha was still unable to go to the galley at his normal time, so Conrad would simply have to settle for what he had now.


    He ate quickly before returning to his cabin for the night. He got ready for bed and took out an old-fashioned paper book to read for a few minutes. As he lay there relaxing he heard a chime from the info terminal. He looked over at it bemusedly before realizing what it meant, they had connected to the Gal Net and all mail had been forwarded to the crew.


    Conrad put his book on the bed and pulled the attached stool out of the terminal before sitting down to read his mail. Scanning through the menus he found that he had three messages. Two were VIMs from home. One from his parents, and the second from Master Silva. His skin tightened and his body chilled as a blood pressure surge released a small amount of adrenaline. "Well, shit. Looks like we are going to find out if we can visit...and if she is going to kill me next time she sees me. My parents are one thing, but at least I am likely to survive their wrath."


    But the third message was only text, one that came from within the ship itself. "Wait...Security Chief?" Conrad selected the message from Ruufarrl and immediately felt a different kind of chill.


    The message said simply:


    We need to meet.

 Chapter 2

    -Ruufarrl-


    Ruufarrl scratched his chin as he cycled through the security cameras on his terminal. He could see that preparation for the next delivery cycle was well underway. Each of the large twin cargo bays was a cluster of activity. This was the perfect time to keep an eye on things while hidden from view. In his experience, things didn''t go missing when nobody was working the bays nearly as much as they did when everyone was busy in the bays. It was far easier to take advantage of everyone''s distractions than it was to fool the registration system that logged when and where crewmates used their access keys to open doors.


    He kept his terminal display split into four views, one large view and three smaller ones lined up on the side. He cycled the large view often, picking different areas of the ship to view. The small ones, however, he kept locked in their views. Currently one was of the command bridge and one of the engine room, both incredibly important areas to keep monitored for trouble. The third one though, was of a particular corner in the cargo bays that showed a marked refrigerated container.


    Ruufarrl tightened his lips and sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time so far that day as he looked at the container yet again. "Don''t worry, youngblood. I will see you home again. Your spirit will hunt with your ancestors, and will not become lost in the Fields Between."


    Shaking himself from his musing he turned his attention back to the cycling camera, "All busy and crowded...except one."


    He watched as Conrad went about work in his sector all alone again. He knew the human was having a lot of difficulty lately due to the crew trying to keep as far away from him as possible. His mood had been getting darker and he wasn''t as outspoken as he had been before the attack. He thought on the differences and similarities between their people as he watched the unsuspecting youngblood.


    Humans appeared by all observations to be solidly social creatures. This was reinforced through what Kiiroth had reported and his own talks with Conrad. It started as a survival need, but never left them. Even to this day, if forced to choose they would often choose the preservation family and clan over anything else, or at least fight to find a way to protect them. There were of course varying levels of this behavior, but overall this was true across the board. Most especially on the Human Frontier, where they still needed to work together to thrive on alien planets.


    This behavior was an interesting mirror to the Ruulothi, where clan was the most important part of their social structure. Few but the most vile of Broken Fangs would dare to allow harm to come to the Clan. Because of this social structure, it appeared that both of their races have difficulty when isolated, with notable exceptions of course. It definitely explained Conrad''s withdrawal and depression.


    This also held true for the Ruulothi. Sheathed Claws like himself that lasted to truly fulfill their assigned duties were few and far between. Most could not handle being isolated from family and clan for so long, and would seek some way to fall in battle. The long periods of isolation from home and family wore on even the strongest of souls. Some even claimed they could hear the Fields Between calling to them. Active suicide was an anathema to Ruulothi, considered to be the ultimate weakness of a character devoid of honor and worth. But in seeking death through action, though a very fine line apart from active suicide, was accepted, even lauded. To find one''s end with action was to prove one''s worth to the end and secured one''s place in the Great Hunt as long as their life deeds were honorable and worthy.


    He supposed this made him the exception that proved the rule. Then again, not very many hated stagnation as he did. Most Ruulothi were hidebound to traditions and would cling to them with tooth and claw. He sought to change this. He knew that the Ruulothi would need to adapt, grow and reach beyond where they were now if they wished to secure a place for themselves in the future. If they didn''t want to fade into obscurity or be consumed by the endless Bureaucracy of the GalCom.


    This, more than anything else, is why he had become so enamored of humanity. They did nothing BUT adapt. They still held their traditions, but they knew that they didn''t live set in stone and ore. Nothing and no one was going to help them if they didn''t help themselves first. These were admirable traits, if they could be focused.


    "That, and the fact that they have proven so surprisingly adept and flexible in combat. But then again, one subject, one incident, does not prove anything. I need to see more, need to learn more about them from first hand experience."


    Ruufarrl looked at the message indicator on the terminal. "No, we will not receive the download until we dock."


    His report to the First Claw was far earlier than would have been expected, if they even expected it at all considering the standard for Sheathed Claws. Even so, he knew that he had included enough information to raise hackles and cause some bared fangs. A reply would be sent, he simply needed patience.


    Beedoo, beedoo.


    Ruufarrl snorted in distracted amusement as the chime went off.  He had some experience with data relay terminals due to his time serving the clan, so he had programmed in an alarm to sound when the Captain accessed certain doors.


    This chime signaled that the Captain had left the bridge, so Rufarrl cycled the cameras to find his location, tracking him as he moved through the ship. A few camera changes later and a wide feral grin grew on his face. The?Captain was coming his way. "So it begins again."


    He did so enjoy this game that he had created.


    Ruufarrl snatched his work harness from the locker next to his desk, slid on his arm terminal, and slipped out of the room. He would track the Captain using the arm terminal and stay just ahead of him. This infuriated the Captain to no end, who thought that the Security Chief was just dodging him. He was right, but Ruufarrl would never admit that. He always said he was conducting rounds, which was true, they were just specifically NOT in the area that the Captain was in. He would keep at this until the Captain grew frustrated enough to return to the bridge and summon him through the Ship Com. The game was an engaging experience, one the he felt kept his senses and skills sharp enough to Hunt, and one that allowed him to avoid the incessant droning and complaints from the Captain while getting away with being a burr in his fur. No matter which way he looked at it, he won.


    Taking one last look at his arm terminal to verify positions, Ruufarrl headed around the next corner to his left. Not ten seconds later the Captain rounded a corner from the opposite direction and headed to the Security Office, finding it empty. A frustrated sigh echoed in the hallway as the Captain grumbled to himself before wandering off in the same general direction Ruufarrl had just went.


    ______________________________________________________________________________


    The last part of the trip went smoothly. There were no more attacks, no issues with paperwork or credentials, no obvious signs of any theft, nor any problems between crewmembers. To his surprise, Ruufarrl also found Conrad to be in a far better mood than he had been. He was no longer dour and spoke easily during their lunchtime conversations.


    Ruufarrl could see that the youngblood still felt the burden of the cold shoulders the rest of the crew gave him, but he was no longer suffering as he had been.


    "Good. Resilience in the face of adversity is a prized skill."


    He heard the CLANG as the docking clamps released the ship, signaling that they were underway to their next destination. None had wanted shore leave, nor had they needed to deal with any hiring this time around, so their turnover time was but a single local day. He was completing a final sweep of the ship, checking for stowaways and anything that seemed out of place before they left the gravity well of the planet. There were many places to hide things on this ship, and he was determined to check every one that he knew about.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Several hours later he was satisfied that nothing unexpected had occurred during the cargo exchange and began to wander his way back to his office, checking in on the vital areas of the ship again as he passed through. One could never be too careful because in space, or anywhere really, complacency kills.


    He had another goal now, one that awaited him in his office. Now that the job in port was completed, the Captain had released the mail downloads to the crew. He kept them sequestered while in port to prevent workers from becoming distracted during the critical cargo exchange phase. Any accidents then would cost him considerably. Ruufarrl was hoping to find a response to his message home.


    The return to his office went smoothly, and all critical workers were performing their assigned jobs. Arriving at his office he checked the external terminal logs to see if anyone had opened the door in his absence, finding nothing he went on to do a quick inspection and found everything just as he had left it. Finally, he allowed himself to relax as he sat down in his chair and take a deep breath.


    Now ready, Ruufarrl activated his office terminal and checked his mail. He found what he was looking for buried in the status reports and requests from the captain. A single VIM message sent from home.


    Still not entirely sure how this was going to play out, he opened the message and listened. Then played it again, and finally a third time while reading the translation on screen.


    "Well now, it looks like things are going to be getting interesting from here on out. It seems that my information had the desired effect."


    Satisfied he understood what had been said, he put together a message for Conrad and sent it. "And now, I wait."


    ______________________________________________________________________________


    "You wanted to see me Chief?"


    "Hrmm, absolutely, come in and sit." Ruufarrl paused as Conrad did as instructed. "You had seemed to be in a better mood lately, youngblood. But now you are wary again, did something happen?"


    "I, yeah. I was, but...wait, Am I not in trouble?"


    Ruufarrl''s brow furrowed as he tilted his head at the sudden twist in the conversation, "No, why would you think that?" Conrad''s visible confusion and wariness was riding the line between amusing and concerning. "Now why would he be concerned about getting into trouble." he wondered, then cast his eye to the narrow storage locker against the wall."No, I think I know what that is about at least."


    "Because you wanted to see me? No, wait... OK. I am sorry sir. For humans, when a superior sends them a message saying that they want to meet with no extra details, it usually means that they are in some kind of trouble. As in, the career and lifestyle ending kind."


    Ruufarrl let out a deep rolling chuckle, almost a baritone purr, at this. "You humans are so strange. My message meant simply what it said. We Ruulothi do not hide meaning behind emptiness and fancy words. We simply say what we desire."


    "Well, mostly" he thought as he remembered his game with the Captain, "But that was different. We CAN, we just refuse to unless related to matters of the Hunt."


    He shook his head as he saw the human practically melt in relaxation. "We still have much to learn from each other. Such cultural quirks have already caused trouble between our peoples. These are things we simply must figure out."


    He raised his head to look Conrad in the eye again, "No, you are not in trouble, but back to my original point. You seem as though you have been handling the rejection from your crewmates better lately. All is well now?"


    He watched the youngblood take in a deep breath before answering. "Yeah, I have been doing better lately. I have been thinking things over again, and Kivan opened up a little bit. It won''t change anything in the long run, but it¡¯s nice to know that I''ve not been completely cast out."


    "Oh? It is good that you made a strong enough impression to enable some of them to overcome their concerns. It speaks well of you."


    "I don''t really know about that, but speaking of their concerns, there is something I wanted to ask you."


    Ruufarrl picked up his chin and sniffed the air in response to this, "What are your thoughts?"


    "Well, I''ve been noticing some behavioral patterns and I''m not really sure if there is something else to it. But... Why does it seem like there are two groups of Galactics? You have yourself and the Command Crew and a few others who don''t seem to have reacted in the same manner as the general workers. Is there some sort of hierarchy or caste system that I am unaware of?"


    Ruufarrl''s eyebrows rose as he blinked in surprise and sat back in his chair."Ahh. That is... highly perceptive of you. You are the first newcomer I have heard of that noticed this on their own."


    Ruufarrl''s respect for the boy grew daily. While he knew from his previous talks with the youngblood that he wasn''t representative of the entirety of Humanity, he was, in Ruufarrl''s personal estimation, representative of the best of the Frontiersmen and Colonists, those that live on the bleeding edge of his race and the ones that he felt the Ruulothi could identify most with."If only we had been as perceptive ourselves on first contact." he thought to himself.


    "This... behavioral difference. It is not something based upon classifications or manufactured systems. It is something that is far deeper and older. Something that only came about with time." He paused a moment to make sure the boy was listening. He needn''t have bothered, but it was an ingrained habit from his time as a First Claw and an instructor at the Academies.


    "What you are seeing is the product of experience that seeps its way into a people''s culture. Those crewmembers that you have noticed as being more capable, the Command Crew and others, they are among the oldest signatories of the Accords. They are the ones that created the Galactic Accords and built the GalCom as we know it today. Because of this, their communities have experienced war, suffering and loss over and over again at the hands of others. As well as the rebuilding and Golden days between. Races born to combat like ours see the mental escapism of cowering in fear as a weakness, as something that provides no benefit, and as something that has the capacity to cause immense harm to others when exhibited the wrong time. We actively strive to be better than that in order to survive and thrive. The... Old Ones we shall call them. Have learned the benefit of an emergency professional composure through time and suffering. Though they are now buffered by races such as ours who can stand in stead of them. The New Ones have yet to learn this lesson. This is another reason why raids and conflicts between the New Ones occur most often at the edges of GalCom Space, because that is where the easiest pickings are.


    Now, there are always exceptions, as with anything else. But the General rule for hiring command positions is to choose from either the Old Ones, or those who have already proven themselves somehow."


    "That, certainly explains some things I guess. But how do these races get to the point of space travel without ever learning how to deal with adversity?"


    Ruufarrl chuffed at this, "My people have a saying, ''You never know which day you are going to be the prey until you step outside.'' You need to remember, among other GalCom races there are some that have come up as the dominant species on their planet, without being predators themselves and without any sort of natural predation against them. How would they learn these hard lessons then?"


    The youngblood contemplated this for a time, "I don''t know. I guess... when they come across someone that wants what they have and don''t care about how they get it? But then, they wouldn''t be able to defend themselves, would they? So, how would these races survive their first hostile contact?"


    Ruufarrl nodded sagely at the questions, "Good points. The answer is a fairly savage, if pointed reminder of both poor timing and GalCom policy. If they make that hostile contact without ever finding GalCom, they likely don''t survive. But, if they manage to contact a member of GalCom, their Homeworld is afforded protection. But only their Homeworld, until such a time as they become full signatories at least. Then any colonies they found or fight over rights for will fall under GalCom protection and mediation... Which usually means my people or a few select others, maybe even eventually your own, are sent to protect them or fight for them."


    "You don''t have the option to refuse? That seems... Authoritarian."


    "No, we do not. Not unless it would actively be harming ourselves or our own citizens. Then things get... mud stained. But, such is the nature of the Accords. Armed Conflict and War in the GalCom, at least amongst signatories, is so rare as to be almost non-existent. New signatories have no need to even learn to protect themselves, as the GalCom will provide for them, by sending out the warrior races. So even among those who have been a part of the community the longest, there are few who have truly seen violence as no single entity has yet been foolish enough to challenge the conglomerate that is the Galactic Community. The GalCom has turned their power struggles to other, less violent means. Less violent, but potentially no less destructive."


    "Less destructive than outright war?"


    "Which destroys more? A brief war for colonization rights, or the ''protection deal'' that puts an entire race into unbreakable debt to another?"


    He watched as Conrad lowered his eyes and parsed the new information. He had given the youngblood a lot of information to think about, some of which he doubted even the boy''s leaders really knew. Still, it was important information, and set the tone for dealing with and living in the GalCom. It was going to be information that he needed in the near future. Politics was a dirty business, regardless of where you came from. More so when dealing with the GalCom.


    At this point, Ruufarrl was studying Conrad to find an opportune time to breach his next topic, the one he had originally called Conrad in for. His mane and nape fur prickled and shifted as he thought. It was going to be a test of the youngblood, and how he responded could easily change the outcome of things. But, before he could find his words, Conrad spoke first.


    "So, there is something I wanted to tell you about." The youngblood had suddenly turned fidgety. He knew this signaled that the human was unsure of how the information would be received. The boy was nervous.


    "Oh? Continue."


    "I, uh... I am going to end my service at the end of my tour." The boy hesitated before pushing onwards. But now that he had started, there was no turning back. "The more I think about it, the more I realize that this situation isn''t likely to change. That my presence here, regardless of my work capacity, is only hurting the others in the long run. It would be more selfish of me and damaging to stay." He paused again before taking another steadying breath.


    "Considering that, I am unsure of how this next part should be addressed. I, um. I heard back from Master Silva. She said she is expecting you and is looking forward to meeting you."


    Well, this was unexpected.


    Ruufarrl sank back into his chair and clicked his teeth at this turn of events. Unexpected, but not uncalled for. The decision, regardless of its ramifications for Ruufarrl''s plans, spoke well of the youngblood''s maturity. Few were the Ruulothi youngbloods that could put aside their own personal pride to see the greater hunt. He let out a soft growl as he sat thinking, excited at the prospect of meeting this teacher of his, and mulling the options he had available to make things work. Options that were suddenly becoming very limited.


    Suddenly, the seed of an idea started to bloom in his mind.


    Unexpected, but not unsalvageable.


    He grinned to himself before addressing the youngblood, his mind now made up.


    "We will discuss that more later, but I don''t foresee your departure being an obstacle. For now... I believe you have been wanting to learn about the Bloodclaws?"

 Chapter 3

    -Conrad-


    "For now... I believe you have been wanting to learn about the Bloodclaws?"


    Conrad drew in a slow breath through his nose in surprise. Whatever had been preventing the old warrior from talking to him had apparently either been dealt with or cleared. However it had happened, he was finally going to get some answers. He straightened in his seat and looked Ruufarrl in the eyes before nodding, making sure he knew that this was going to be taken seriously.


    "Yes, sir."


    Ruufarrl looked at him studiously a moment before he nodded back in approval and continued, "Good. It is important to know the full impact of something one has earned and accomplished. Many youngbloods forget this on their rush to seek the pinnacles of their achievements. In so doing they often overreach and come to fail not only themselves, but the Clan as well. To prevent this, youngbloods who earn the Mantle are mentored by senior Bloodclaws. Your desire to learn more has put you ahead in that respect, but do not let it shade your thoughts. The Bloodclaws are..."


    He paused a moment to try and find the correct word, one that would do his intent justice. "... A legacy."


    "The creation of the Bloodclaws comes from an ancient practice meant to distinguish those who have, through their own free will, fought and bled for the Clan. In this manner they would be recognized not only as Warriors, but as Citizens in their own right. This Citizenship status, earned through their own blood and sacrifice, would grant them the right to lead others, take and hold Office, seek asylum and support, make decisions for the Clan and, at times, form their own Clan once their parent Clan had grown too large to support itself. The particulars have changed some over time, especially when we made our presence known in the Galactic Community, but the true bones of the matter are still there.''


    ''The Mantle is a visible symbol of this legacy. Calling it something akin to a military honor would be close, but the meaning behind it is different. The Mantle exists as a record and display of one''s achievements and commiserate rank in Clan society. The more recorded achievements one has accomplished in support of the Clan, the higher one''s social status. Any Ruulothi, or at this point any GalCom member, seeing the Mantle on an individual would know, immediately, that they had put themselves in harms way for the Ruulothi people and had earned our gratitude. It is a symbol of both respect and trust in our society. As such, it is not given out lightly to outsiders, and few have earned it as the requirements for them are more than simply skill in combat. I believe, currently, there are only 23 non-Ruulothi that are permitted to wear the Mantle, and all but four of them are from other predatory peoples. Many of them serve as Ambassadors of a sort to the Ruulothi, and are the only ones we will entertain as such. These chosen Ambassadors are Hunt Brothers as well as Bloodclaws. Any Ambassador must be at least considered a Hunt Brother to serve amongst our people."


    Conrad sat quietly and absorbed the information for a moment. Outwardly he tried to appear calm, but on the inside he was near to boiling over as a surge of dread, pride and an endless stream of what ifs assaulted his mind. He swallowed as he tried to gain control of his rampant emotions. "Damn, this was far bigger than I had thought. You just HAD to go and kick the Hellboar, didn''t you?" He despised politics and politicians with a burning passion and wanted absolutely nothing to do with them. But he also knew it would be a mortal insult to even begin to try and back away from this. Not only that, but doing so would utterly END any interactions with the Ruulothi race, not only for him, but likely all of humanity as well. He hated the weight he could feel settling in on his shoulders, but he knew that he had suddenly become a potentially very important link between Humanity and the Ruulothi. He hated himself for even the thought of backing away from it and knew that he was in deep, no matter which way he looked at it. But, in the end, the only answer to it all was to see it through. And to do that, he would need more information, as much as he could possibly learn.


    "You said, ''More than simply skill in combat'' was required to earn it. So how did I do it? All I did was fight."


    "That fight was the final, major catalyst for awarding the Mantle, true. But it was also your interactions with Kiiroth beforehand as well as your stated need to avenge him, and by extension protect ME and your fellow crew, that you met the requirements for consideration. If the attack had never happened, I would have put you forward for the list of consideration for Hunt Brother. Because of your interactions beforehand and your friendship with Kiiroth. After the attack... few would dare to argue your qualifications, and then only fools."


    "And Hunt Brothers are what... trusted outsiders? Why would you only allow Hunt Brothers and Bloodclaws as ambassadors? That seems like it would severely limit your external opportunities with other people."


    "Yes, Hunt Brothers are non-Clan members that have proven to be worthy of the Clan''s trust. This could be either outsiders or members of other Clans. As for the rest, it is true, after a fashion. However, in our estimations, how could we truly accept that such a person was willing to deal with us fairly and seek beneficial outcomes for all involved unless they have proven their dedication and worth to us? We have our own Ambassadors to cover the perceived void in our needs... Hmmm."


    The Ruulothi paused a moment and scratched his chin while he thought. "Though to be fair, now that I consider it, our own ambassadors only treat with those races we consider worthy, so perhaps your observation isn''t entirely off the mark. The GalCom does appoint middlemen for anything that we may need or ask for outside of our own efforts. But perhaps that lack of control is hurting us after all. Something for later consideration, perhaps."


    Conrad watched him as he considered this train of thought for a few moments more before appearing to abandon it with a flick of both ears and claw, "But such concerns are far above my current station. Indeed, they are far above any station I could ever hold at this point."


    "Is that because you are a... what was it called? A Sheathed Claw? Is it too forward of me to ask what that is now?"


    Ruufarrl''s ears twitched at the question, but he answered all the same. "To some, it would be. There are those among my people who see the title as one of shame, and of banishment. To other species... I think the closest approximation I can offer is that of retirement. It means that we have removed ourselves from internal Clan matters, either willingly or by having been forced, and will never hold a leadership position again. For some, this is indeed a punishment for misdeeds committed in office or while leading. Crimes and misdeeds that don''t warrant making them Broken Fangs, our outcast criminals. For others it is because they became too old to perform their duties properly in a physical sense. In my case, it is because I lost my station as Clan Head in ritual combat, a Challenge of Position, and was ordered by the victor to continue serving in this capacity. For those like myself, it is a job. One that takes us far from home and family, and one that can wear heavily on the mind. Our job is to serve as the eyes and ears of our Clans in the larger Galactic Community. So that we can get word back home of events that may be... exempted from the GalNet or from the tongues of our... compatriots. The belief is that with our age and experience we would be wizened enough to not get caught up in a blood feud created by an offhand insult to our pride, as those younger than us might. In this way we spend the most productive part of our lives directly serving and protecting the Clan, and our Elder years discerning and providing the necessary information to allow our Clan to prosper. But some do not see it this way and see it as a banishment. Such Ruulothi will actively seek death on a battlefield somewhere so that they may enter the Great Hunt with their Ancestors."


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    "That makes a certain amount of sense. You keep the youth, drive and strength at home where they can fight if need be and send the calmer and more rational thinkers out to delve and....spy? What happens to those who deteriorate mentally?"


    "Espionage? No, not in that sense. Simply to observe and report. We don''t seek secrets or to disrupt. Only to watch and learn. You are correct to think of it as a way to prevent waste of manpower. Rather than losing a valuable able-bodied fighter to a foolish fight in a random corner of the galaxy, we send out those who have already served their time. Though sometimes, such as with Kiiroth, promising youngbloods are sent out to be mentored and trained by their Seniors. Had he survived I believe he would have been a promising leader. As for the second part... Ruulothi do not suffer from age induced mental issues as some other races are known to do. That only occurs from damage directly to the brain, and such people are cared for at home. Our bodies may age, but our minds stay strong, until the few days before natural death at least."


    Conrad felt a pang of anguish on hearing what the future may have held for Kiiroth. A future that he would now never get to see.


    Something in his body language or expression must have shown his thoughts to Ruufarrl, as he let out a soft growl before speaking again. "There is nothing to grieve youngblood. Kiiroth died as a prime example of what all Ruulothi should be. You should take pride in that, and pride in yourself. For you accomplished what he could not. Such is the way the Huntwinds blow."


    Conrad nodded to Ruufarrl, signaling his understanding of the intent behind his words. He did not ask about the Huntwinds, as he suspected that he already knew the answer. Every time he spoke with the Ruulothi, he noticed more and more similarities between their people. "If only our first contact had gone differently. I don''t like it, but it looks like it is up to me to fix that."


    "So where does all this leave me? Especially where my people aren''t considered to be worthy by yours. It feels like we may have skipped a few steps along the way here."


    Ruufarrl gave a rumbling purr at this, though Conrad didn''t know what it meant, as he had never heard that particular sound before. "That is a fair assessment. However, this is not the first time such a thing has happened, nor is it likely to be the last. Our culture is one focused upon recognition of merit. Such things are known to happen where it is least expected. As things lay now, you are afforded the rights to wear the Mantle as recognition of your deeds. I have received approval from my Clan Head for you to do so. In time, there will be a Confirmation Ceremony where your actions that earned your Mantle, and the actions you took beforehand and henceforth, are reviewed and presented before the Night Mane Council. There, if you are found to have met the requirements beyond any rational doubt, you will be "Blooded" and your Mantle will receive the mark designating such and the mark of the Clan which approved it. Once this is done, you will legally be considered a part of the Clan and will be expected to act with their interests in mind in addition to your own."


    He gave a strangled roar of laughter at the panic that welled up in Conrad''s face. "Do not look as though you are to be eaten youngblood. You will not be co-opted into our culture, unless of course that is what you desire. Such things can be arranged. It merely means that you are expected to not perform any actions that will actively cause harm or detriment to the Clan or Ruulothi people as a whole. Much like the approved Ambassadors we spoke of earlier. Though intent can be argued in front of the Council if such a thing were to happen beyond your control."


    Conrad felt the pressure that had been building start to ease as Ruufarrl intuited his concerns and addressed them as he spoke. He was again struck by the wisdom of the Ruulothi in front of him. He somehow always seemed to understand what was happening behind the curtains. "He must have been one hell of a leader. I wonder if the one who deposed him knew that, or if they simply wanted to take advantage of his age."


    As he mused he noticed something in the way things were being explained to him start to stand out. A small detail that nudged the edges of his awareness until he gave it his full attention.


    "You have only talked about the Night Mane Clan and their Council. What about the Ruulothi as a whole?"


    "Hrrmm. The Grand Council allows the individual Clans to handle their own interests. In a way, this insulates them and other Clans from any damage that may be caused by a misstep at this stage. Only the Clan that made the decision would be affected. Such things as this are, of course, brought to their attention as a matter of course and respect. So they will, at the very least, be aware of you. I would dare to say that the hidebound fools may even lose some fur at the news." Ruffarrl chuffed in amusement at the thought. "But they will respect our decision and monitor your activities and progress. Perhaps, one day, you may even garner enough attention to be brought to them in person. Maybe even stand as a representative of your race."


    "This all means I will need to go to Ruulothi Prime, right? For this Confirmation Ceremony? Is there some sort of time frame for that, or does it happen whenever I show up?" He almost said "If" he should show up, but caught himself before actually uttering the words. If was no longer in question. It was going to happen.


    "It takes some time and forewarning to set up, but usually the sooner the better. With you absolving yourself of your responsibilities to the ship, it is possible to have it done in a timely manner. But we can discuss that more as the time approaches. As your... I believe the human word is...sponsor? I would need to be there as well to speak for you and your actions as a witness. You will also need a mentor to prepare you for the ceremony and etiquette required. I will handle the necessary notifications and assignments and will teach you what I can in the time you have remaining here."


    "Thank you. This is...far bigger than I could ever have considered. Especially when all I really wanted to do was kick that stupid bug''s ass and not get eaten."


    "Indeed, it only takes but the smallest of sparks to create an inferno. Your reservations are good. It shows that you think beyond the moment. But do not concern yourself for the far future. Prepare for it as best you can, but do not agonize over it. In that, time alone will tell, youngblood.''


    ''Now, I must get back to my regular duties, and you must get some rest before your next shift. We will speak more. I will set aside some time in the evening of each day so that I may continue to teach you what you need to know. I will call on you again tomorrow."


    Conrad stood and nodded towards Ruufarrl before leaving. "Understood Chief. And again, thank you."


    ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


    -Ruufarrl-


    "This youngblood... is proving to be more promising than expected." Ruufarrl thought as he watched Conrad leave his office. "One way or another, this is going to prove to be a most beneficial endeavor. I wish I could be there for those arguments." His ears and whiskers twitched in amusement as he imagined the heated "discussions" that would eventually ensue. "I am not the only one who will shake things up. This youngblood asks the right questions. He thinks and sees beyond himself and his own desires. This, this will add some much needed weight to his introduction. But there is much yet to do."


    He turned to his workstation and began to make notes for his upcoming lessons, dredging up from the depths of his memory as much information as he could that might give the youngblood an edge. He would be starting from behind due to his race''s current reputation among the Clans, and so would need every advantage possible to make a better and lasting impression.


    Ruufarrl had much to teach the youngblood, with no absolute guarantee on time allowed. But he was not going to shave any corners. The youngblood deserved better than slipshod instruction, and he simply would not allow the quality of his teaching to be compromised in any way. Much of it was common sense, to a Ruulothi at least. Time alone would tell if this too transcended the boundaries of space and time, or if it would be something completely alien to the boy. Regardless, he possessed an alert and flexible mind. Ruufarrl did not doubt his capacity for learning the quirks of Ruulothi etiquette.


    The better part of an hour later he sat back and took a deep breath before smiling. He had almost forgotten the rigors of teaching and lesson planning. This was just as good for him as it was for his Clan and the youngblood.


    He double checked his work and, once satisfied, brought up the internal messaging system. He had one final task to complete, one that set in stone what would come to pass.


    He nodded to himself, and began preparing his message to the Captain.

 Chapter 4

    -Conrad-


    Conrad headed straight for his cabin as soon as he left the Chief''s office. He wanted to work some things out and organize his thoughts before he sent another message to Master Silva. He knew that she had spent a lot of time out amongst the Galactic Community as a part of an integration program, this left her probably the only Human resource and sounding board he had for what he was involved in. He knew that the information that Ruufarrl had given him was only the tip of this iceberg. This at least was enough for him to understand the significance and import of being recognized by the Ruulothi. There was far more that had yet to be addressed, but Ruufarrl seemed to be biding his time and dancing on the line of telling him. Almost like he was trying to drop subtle hints to pique his awareness of that which was going unsaid. Trying to prepare him for something.


    Regardless, Conrad knew damn well that Humanity was still essentially alone among the stars, even though they had met a massive conglomerate of hundreds of races. They desperately needed some sort of beneficial relationship with an established race. This had been a talking point for years among the politicians and theorists and really anybody with letters in front of their name. Though he was born on Earth he had grown up on the Fringe for all the years that had mattered, and life here had taught him a number of things. Foremost among them, we were alone out here, and selfishness gets people killed. A colony wouldn''t survive if it remained every man for themselves, and no one was coming to save you. They needed to work together, and even sacrifice of themselves to see the Colony itself prosper. Right now, Humanity as a whole had become just another Fringe Colony to the Galactics. What he did now could affect the entirety of the Human race, and he would be damned before he saw himself fail because of personal misgivings.


    "Hell, it might even go down in the history books. Imagine that! Little old Fringe Worlder me, simply too dumb, stubborn and ornery to know when to give up."


    He shook himself as he finally made it to his door, "Never mind all that. Start thinking like that and your ego will get you killed, fool."


    Once inside he sat down and pulled the one thing he had brought with him aside from his essentials, his Portable Terminal. It booted itself up as he unfolded and expanded its screens, a visual display on top and an input display on bottom. It was of Human design, and the only thing it had in common with GalCom equipment was an accessory that allowed it to charge remotely using a Terminal Conductor intended for use with wrist terminals. He couldn''t even connect directly to the GalNet with it, but that was what his room terminal was for.


    As soon as it completely initialized he brought up a literary program for recording notes and other such things, and began noting down as much information as he could remember. Maybe actually having it down where he could visualize it would jog something loose in his head and he would see some of what was being alluded to. It was a trick he had learned in school. Sometimes writing something down would allow you to remember something new or follow a different path of thought and see something connected where maybe you had been blind to it before, even if you were writing it down again. As he wrote, he decided to include things related to the attack in his notes. Crew reactions, difficulties, the attack itself, the events leading up to it. After nearly two hours had passed he had over five pages of notes, and he still wasn''t done.


    He looked at the clock before sighing and sagging in exhaustion, "Damn, looks like I''ll have to finish tomorrow." He double checked and made sure his work was saved before he put his PT away and went to bed.


    "It''s not like a message can go out again until our next stop anyway since we can''t use the Network Buoys thanks to the Captain. I have time. Let¡¯s see, any ship mail?"


    He browsed through the menus and found a couple of internal messages. The first stated that there had been another change in loading orders, "Of course there is. Can''t leave well enough alone, can we?" The second was a direct message from the Captain stating that his resignation had been received and approved, and that his final paycheck would be taken care of when they arrived at Nueva Rios. "Wait, received and... Approved?"


    Conrad frowned at this and looked over at his PT, eyes squinting in suspicion and concentration. "Guess I should just add it to the long list of circumstantial nonsense, at least until I have something solid that connects some of these scattered dots. Who the hell APPROVES a resignation?"


    He shook his head at his own thoughts and yawned suddenly, "Right, been up long enough you fool. Get to bed, your easy day just got complicated."


    He turned out the lights and lay down, putting his naked back and a foot to the cool metal wall, and was snoring within moments.


    ________________________________________________________________


    The following days were almost normal in their routine. He got up, ate, worked, ate, had lessons with Ruufarrl, and slept. Well, the new normal at least. Aside from conversations with Kivan during shift and a few fleeting glimpses of Jjatha, he was still essentially on his own.


    His continued lessons and burgeoning awareness of something hiding in the shadows meant that his list of notes continued to grow. He was beginning to feel like he was getting paranoid. But he heard somewhere that you never thought you were paranoid if you really were, so maybe it was a good thing that he was considering it. Either way, he felt as though he was standing on a hill overlooking a massive minefield that he was going to have to cross in the near future.


    "But that is a problem for another day. Right now I just have to get through this shift."


    Ruufarrl had proven to be a surprisingly good teacher. He had plenty of patience and was willing to entertain Conrad''s many questions. The Ruulothi valued personal merit, skill and bravery over other attributes. Their government, from what he could compare to human standards, was a challenge based Meritocracy. You could not serve in a position until you had accumulated enough "proof" that you were worthy of serving in said position. Once you had the proof, or merit, you could appeal to those you wished to serve for approval. Only when the people gave their approval could you then challenge for the position, rather than put things to an election. These challenges varied in nature depending on the age of those involved and the position desired. While Ritual Combat was the most common and most lauded of these challenges, others were available. If you succeeded, you claimed the position.


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    But to issue a challenge was to put yourself on the line, win or lose. If you lost the challenge, the victor had the right to assign you a job or position. Most times, as a sign of respect for the opponent and of the trust the people had given the person, the loser would be allowed to continue to serve in some capacity. If it was the challenger who lost, this would be to learn more about the position they wanted to attain and, perhaps, challenge again at a later date. If it was the challenged, they would be positioned so they could continue to contribute and, at times, to see why they had been deposed as the challenger''s policies took effect. Other times, whether because of bad blood or other considerations, the loser would be cast out and would become a Sheathed Claw like Ruufarrl. Sent away from home and clan and never again allowed to hold a position of Political Authority. Though Ruufarrl claimed that his claws were sheathed for a purpose, it was not always the case and it was for this reason that Sheathed Claws had high mortality rates and stigma associated with the position.


    Their basic etiquette and manners were almost beat for beat the same as humans. It consisted of the same deference to elders and superiors, not speaking out of turn or interrupting, treating each other''s time as valuable, etc. Their table manners were different, though. In human societies, it was most often the Head of the table that ate first. With the Ruulothi however, they allowed the youngest to go first, after permission from the Head. Conrad assumed that this was a tradition built from ancient practices in less civilized times meant to ensure the young survived.


    Social etiquette was similar, but complex. The greatest change lay in the deference to certain achievements and titles, such as the Bloodclaws. In this it was more of a feudalistic affair. The closest human comparison Conrad could come up with was the nearly dead custom of Knighthood. They were socially elevated in what they were permitted to achieve in the clan, and many elite groups and leadership positions required one to have at least earned their Mantle to be considered for them. Despite this, many Bloodclaws simply continued what they were doing before, only with more authority in getting support for it. This is because most civilian Ruulothi who earned the Mantle did so much as Conrad had, through the whimsy of Fate and circumstance. It was only among the Clan Holds and those with ambition that earning the Mantle was considered to be a necessity. In this Conrad likened it to Noble Families, blood relatives of those who ran and ruled the Clans that were held to the similar minimum standards as those that came before.


    Each Ruulothi was expected to be their own Arbiter, and were fully responsible for themselves and their own actions. They could not blame another for controlling them or manipulating them or cast responsibility for their actions on another. For the needs of Justice, such things would be followed and seen through, but there was no avoiding responsibility and repercussions for actions. Those convicted of minor crimes would be sent to labor camps. Those seen as a threat to order and people would be cast out as Broken Fangs. They would be marked with a brand on their shoulder, stripped of any and all accolades, any and all merits, dropped well outside the walls of the cities and left for the Wilds of Ruuloth to claim. Some survived and could cause trouble later for travelers, most did not.


    When Conrad asked why the Ruulothi did not use jails or simply execute them Ruufarrl had said, "We will not burden our society with the need to support those that would destroy it. All Ruulothi know how to fight, any these Broken Fangs could come across would be either on equal or better footing than they are. We do not travel long distances on land anymore, as we use primarily aerial conveyances. Any who were brave or foolish enough to be walking through the wilds have already taken their lives into their own hands. They will be prepared for it, or they would not be there. Their actions, their responsibility. Though I suppose I should explain a little further. The Wilds of Ruuloth are isolated areas in which not even we have been able to tame. Great Forests, Hidden Valleys and Craters, Frozen Wastes, Vast Deserts, Dangerous Islands. Places inhospitable for standard living. All either were naturally, or artificially, sealed off in some manner to prevent their... natural inhabitants from coming forth to cause harm to our civilians living outside the cities, our homesteads and farms. Isolated incidents of Broken Fangs escaping these confines DO occur, but they are rare. Regardless, any Broken Fang who manages to survive and shows his face again is immediately hunted down and killed. We have deemed the risk of this type of escape to be minimal, and the threat and potential costs they pose at that point to be less than that of jailing them and releasing them into the heart of our cities again."


    The method of punishment might vary depending on the conditions of the colony and planet, but the general idea was always the same. Their sense of Justice was far more black and white than humanities had been for a VERY long time, but it worked. Conrad couldn''t say that he hadn''t considered such measures inappropriate in some cases back home, the Ruulothi were just willing to do it.


    In addition to his lessons on Ruulothi culture, he was also given lessons on Galactic politics. These consisted mostly of warnings on barriers that humans would have to overcome. As newcomers, they would be, and were already being, assessed for aptitudes that were beneficial to GalCom. Due to humanities propensity and history for war, it was likely that they would be tapped to fill that role, as there were precious few in the GalCom that could manage it. But their other skills threw some doubt into the mix. Humanity learned and adapted incredibly fast in comparison to other races in the GalCom, their progressions and inventions came quickly and readily. This, Ruufarrl had told him, would likely be of some concern, because it meant that Humanity was not likely to be kept long in whatever box the Galactics decided to put them in, despite membership policies and other such things. Humanity had, at least so far, avoided getting put into debt by the GalCom. This debt of theirs didn''t always present as financial but could show in the owing in some other manner for ¡°services rendered¡±. Because of the geographical position of Human Space in the Galaxy, they had been given time to expand and grow on their own, without outside interference. This gave them a huge bargaining chip and advantage, one that no other races had upon approaching GalCom thus far. None other than the original founders of the GalCom, the Old Ones, had this advantage to bring to the table.


    Conrad suspected that such a variance in power could cause some issues, but he could not get Ruufarrl to talk about it. In fact, much of the time Ruufarrl spoke of the Galactic policies and politics, he seemed to be...careful. Again Conrad got the feeling that Ruufarrl was trying to drop hints without actually saying something. Conrad''s suspicions were reinforced when he got return mail from Master Silva. She also seemed to be trying to lead him in a direction without actually saying it. In her case he knew that when she did this while teaching it was because there was something she wanted her student to discover for themselves. But to do it for this...


    He went back to her message to listen to the last part because it hadn''t made any sense. She had quoted a tale about Sun Tzu. A story about how when he was tasked with turning a Lord''s harem of concubines into body guards, he had beheaded several of them that would not stop talking during his instruction. Something that put the other concubines immediately into line out of fear.


    "But why would she..."


    "!!"  Conrad stopped in shock as suddenly several puzzle pieces abruptly fell into place. "It is a warning!"


    She was telling him to be careful with his words and his questions, and doing so in a way that avoided detection. She was telling him that his messages and questions could be overheard...and him dealt with.


    Cold suddenly started to gnaw at his gut and the hair on his head seemed to crawl as goosebumps formed on his body. Things that he had ignored or put down to circumstance flooded back as he looked at them in a different light.


    Jjatha''s sudden workload, isolating him from friendly support.


    Kivan''s words to him over a private comm channel, "It is...complicated" and "I may not get the chance or be able to do so later."


    Ruufarrl''s shielding and guiding of him, and his avoidance of certain topics and cryptic answers.


    The way GalCom handled new petitioners to the Community.


    "Resignation Approved".


    Conrad shuddered as he thought about what else he may have missed. Signs that were there if one knew where to look or was paranoid enough.


    His last day couldn''t come soon enough. He needed to get off this ship and back among his own people.


    He needed real answers.

 Chapter 5

    -Ruufarrl-


    Ruufarrl sat in his office alone, appearing to watch the security monitors and keep track of the workers as they went about their daily tasks while he rocked in his chair. In truth, he was deep in thought and saw nothing that was on screen.


    He looked at the indicator tab for his messages, something he had been doing every few minutes as he thought. Though he didn''t need to open them to know what they held. The message from the Captain had been deliberately short and final.


    "Resignation Denied."


    In all reality it was understandable, up to a certain point. Though that made it no easier to accept. There was currently no one to take his place if he left, and none available who had the aptitude to be trained for it. This would leave the ship, the Captain, and his backers vulnerable to those that were... willingly dismissive of socially accepted forms of procurement.


    It wasn''t as though they couldn''t immediately recoup or cover for any losses, which would never be more than minor so long as someone paid attention. He didn''t think he had ever seen anything more expensive than a thousand credit marks go missing. It wasn''t even the rustling of a breeze compared to their interests.


    It also wasn''t likely that they would run into outside trouble in the fringes of human space. The humans patrolled their territory well and kept a very watchful eye for pirates and marauders, among the worst kind of criminals according to Conrad, something the Ruulothi could agree completely with. Following that path of thought, he pulled up the still images he had captured of one such patrol vessel that had been sitting and watching the jump point. An *** Class Escort and Patrol Frigate that had hailed them as a matter of course to inquire about their business. There had been a different ship stationed there the last time he came through. That one had likely been a smaller, in-system enforcement ship. Good for warding off miscreants, but effectively outclasses for anything more serious. Its presence had shown him that Humanity took their security seriously. But it had not nearly been as impressive as this one, his first human Warship.


    The ship he admired now had aggressive angled lines for impact deflections and profiling, its visible turreted weapons had overlapping and supportive fields of fire that could potentially cover up to a full sphere of engagement around the vessel. Its primary engine nacelles were baffled and protected by both armor and rear facing weapons and it had no visible bridge or other important looking protrusion, leaving no obvious point to make a lethal or debilitating strike at. The warship''s design seemed to take full advantage of the quirks and intricacies of space combat as it was nearly identical above and below the keel line leaving no indication of up or down, strictly terrestrial concepts that had no real place in space combat. Its angled and refined edges were shaped as though it were a dagger waiting to be pointed at the heart of the enemy.


    It was an impressive and lethally beautiful design that any race or intelligent species could appreciate and understand. It practically screamed its desire to pop its claws and rend its foes. This ship, showed that Humanity could deal with security seriously. No, there would certainly be no need to worry about an attack in this sector of space.


    He suddenly chuffed at himself, the quiet noise loud in the silence of his office,"It wasn''t even as if I was needed for the last one. The cub saw to that." The corner of his mouth twitched up into a smile at the memory. "Showed this old war cat a few new tricks too."


    Then his mind returned to what he had been musing over, and his smile faded. His options had become limited now that he had been outright denied. He had believed the Captain would be glad to see him gone, as with Ruufarrl out of consideration it would mean that he could skim profits with impunity again. Something that he had been forced to stop doing under Ruufarrl''s watchful eye, and something that he could not, by contract, get rid of him for. But the Captain''s ties to outside influences must have run deeper than Ruufarrl had originally thought if he was willing to put up with the inconvenience of his presence. Something that would ensure Conrad''s separation and isolation without support. The Tiradoran didn''t have the claws to order Ruufarrl to stop interacting with Conrad to his face, so he was going to ensure it happened another way.


    It looked like he was going to have to take a Major Breach of Contract to see this through, and that would...complicate things farther down the path.


    In addition to giving a legal option to censure him, a Major Breach would limit his options when it came to finding work after all this was done with. While he had plenty of skills to offer, some places and people simply wouldn''t hire anyone who had a Major Breach on their record, regardless of the reason for it.


    But perhaps...


    He turned to the cameras again and flicked through them as his mind slowly explored this new path. He finally found the camera overlooking Conrad''s work sector and his mind started processing again as he watched him work. His brows furrowed and ears turned back as he concentrated, then they flicked back forward and he flipped through the screens again.


    No, it had taken some doing for this one human to get a position in a non-critical posting. This happened all over, but there would be no chance that an unknown human could possibly be approved to take the Security post. No matter what their credentials. Especially not now that Conrad had gained the attention of outside forces and things had been put into motion. There was simply too much risk, which meant...


    He sighed in exasperation. Which meant that he had come full circle again, for perhaps the twentieth time that day. He resisted the urge to search through the crew roster yet again to look for a valid replacement even though he knew there wasn''t one. He had other hunts to run, other paths to explore. Retreading the same ground was pointless. There was something nibbling at the edges of his thoughts that he needed to find a way to. Something to do with the attack.


    What was it about the attack that kept bringing him back to it? He knew the details of it from back to front, and could remember it in vivid detail. But he just couldn''t tease out what it was that kept pulling him back there every time he thought about getting around the Breach of Contract. If it was going to occupy his thoughts so, then he supposed it wouldn''t hurt to go over it in detail.


    They had jumped in system. His security advice had been ignored. Unfortunately that part wouldn''t help him any. It was quite literally written into his contract that his security precautions and advice could be overridden by the Captain without any reason given.


    They had been attacked. Kiiroth had died. Also not something that could be used to refute a Breach of Contract. Security personnel were exempt from injury and death clauses due to the negligence or perceived negligence of others thanks to the nature of their work, also in the contract.


    They had stopped the attack... Correction, Conrad had stopped the attack and distinguished himself in doing so, unintentionally setting many things in motion, none of which could be used. Attempting to do so would only cause the galaxy suddenly collapse on both his head and Conrad''s. The pirates and their vessel had been captured. They had brought everything before the system authorities. The attack had been investigated, and later they had been rewarded very well for their efforts. They had delivered their goods and moved on.


    Ruufarrl had made Conrad a Probationary Bloodclaw setting many more things into motion... wait...


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    Ruufarrl cocked his head to the side as he went back over the list he had just been through. Then, slowly, he sat back up straight and pulled up the rules for Breaches of Contract on his terminal. He read them, then re-read them, then did it again just to be sure.


    Finally, he smiled deeply to himself, his fangs showing.


    He had just found his path out.


    ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


    -Conrad-


    The last few days before arriving home were harder than any other during his tour of duty. The anxiety of seeing looming ghosts in every action of those around him was wearing heavily on him. He had gotten better at dealing with it over the last few weeks, but he wasn''t going to get out from under it unless he stepped away from the whole situation.


    Ruufarrl evidently understood what conclusions he had come to even without Conrad saying a thing to him. He had simply looked at him, then given him a tight smile and a nod before waving at him to remain calm. He never broached the subject, nor did Conrad. It was frustrating that he couldn''t get answers, but in the end he knew that he would have to wait. Just a little bit longer and he could say whatever he wanted so long as they weren''t in public. Nueva Rios, and most of Human space for that matter, had not converted to GalCom equipment. They made do with what was made in their own territory.


    Their afternoon talks still continued, though of the Ceremony itself there was little discussion. What Ruufarrl said on the procedure was to follow along, and to stay calm and respectful. He wouldn''t have any lines during the Ceremony, as it was more of a formal review of deeds among peers. The only thing he really needed to know was that he would be challenged, and he could answer that challenge however he pleased, so long as it befitted a warrior. Something that Ruufarrl had said he would be more than capable of handling.


    When the conversations and lessons ebbed Ruufarrl would ask some him about human culture. He seemed to be quite interested in Conrad''s home and the differences between Core and Fringe world living. Conrad supposed that he was just as good a source as any on the subject, given his time spent in both, so he answered the questions as best as he could with the caveat that his information might well be out of date.


    It felt strange to him, talking about home when it was so close at hand. Ultimately it made the end of the trip drag on, as every time he answered a question another memory would surface and remind him of something he wanted to do when he got back.


    He had already sent a message home giving them a rough estimate of his arrival date and his plans to stay, so it was likely his parents would meet him at the starport. A few days to relax and acclimate to local time would be nice. His first stop after getting some sleep would have to be the Dojo. He would get tossed mercilessly if he didn''t come by to pay his respects and say hello. Master Silva would also be the person to talk to on figuring out more information as to just what exactly was going on. If she didn''t know it, she likely knew someone who did.


    Just a few more days.


    ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


    His last day on ship was a complete blur. Human ports were often the busiest for him as the transfer of goods between cultures made for steady business. He did get the chance to say good bye to Kivan after their shift was over. Jjatha was still MIA for him, so he left a physical note with Kivan to give him when time warranted. He didn''t trust the shipboard messaging system to let anything through. It hadn''t done so yet, so he would be a fool to expect it to start now. He shook his head when he considered how long it had taken him to realize what the potential problem was with the electronic communications.


    He hadn''t brought physical paper and writing tools with him when he came aboard, so he had needed to beg one of the dockworkers for some paper and a pen. He wrote his note quickly while cleaning out his cabin. This would be his first time off ship since the attack, so he put the Mantle on as Ruufarrl had instructed him. A Bloodclaw was expected to hold themselves to a standard, and wearing the Mantle in public served as a reminder of that, both to themselves and to those who interacted with them.


    The electro-staff had proven to be problem though. He had already foreseen it as an issue and had found a way to dismantle it so it could fit in his duffle bag. But he still couldn''t find a way to fit the one piece shaft itself in the bag, so he had to leave that behind. A curiosity for the next crewmember to occupy the cabin. It disappointed him that he couldn''t have the entire thing, but at least he could maybe find a way to make his own now.


    It was interesting to come into contact with humans again. They were quite surprised when he showed up to help with moving the cargo. They shifted around so they could talk while they worked, asking questions about ship travel and the Galactic Community. What worlds he had been to, what people and things he had seen, how life working with the Galactics had been. It was a refreshing change of pace for him, and a little overwhelming given that he had been persona-non-grata for so long. But he fielded their questions as best he could and enjoyed the interaction before his shift ended and he went to retrieve his things.


    He stopped by the Security Office to say goodbye to Ruufarrl, but found it empty. Not just unoccupied, but completely empty.


    "The Hell? What have you gone and done now you damn wildcat? Surely you didn''t..." Conrad stopped and hung his head before snorting in amusement with a smirk and turning to head towards the offloading cargo bays.


    "Guess I am going to find out... This should be interesting. Hey Mom! Hey Dad! Look what I found...Can I keep him? Does it count as looking at what the cat dragged in if you are the one bringing a cat?"


    ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


    -Ruufarrl-


    Ruufarrl stood at the personnel door of the cargo bay waiting for both his charge and the Captain to show. He had his meager possessions in a pack that he carried with him, his long strong box was on a Grav-trolley next to him, along with the cold containment cargo container that held Kiiroth''s remains.


    The humans working the docks of the Space Station gave him sidelong glances every so often. He knew it to be understandable and paid it no mind. Few were the alien visitors to Fringe worlds, so he was an anomaly, doubly so given his race.


    It didn''t take long for Conrad to show. The human walked out from behind a stack of crates and waited for a Grav-Truck to pass. It pleased Ruufarrl to see him wearing the Mantle, even now he could see some of the crew eying the human from the side as he walked past.


    Conrad showed both anxiety and excitement at his arrival home, which then turned to curiosity and suspicion when he saw Ruufarrl waiting for him.


    "I suspected as much when I found your Office cleaned out. You know I could have made arrangements for you if you told me in advance right?"


    Ruufarrl chuckled at this. "A Hunter never reveals himself until the moment to strike arrives." he replied sagely. Then he looked up and saw the Captain storming across the Cargo bay towards him. "I must take care of some last minute issues myself. Go on ahead, I will meet you at the Shuttle docks."


    Conrad looked behind him to follow his gaze and saw the Captain on approach. He wisely took the hint and headed into the station.


    "I do believe that your resignation was denied Ruufarrl. For what reason are you standing on the ramp with your belongings packed?" The Captain''s wide feet stomped down the gangway as he approached. He came right up to Ruufarrl, but stopped just short of getting too close. His deep voice, altered by the long nose that ran from the top of his forehead to just above his low mouth, grated on Ruufarrl.


    "Ahh, Captain Holvol. That would be because I am leaving. I should think that would be obvious."


    "You have not completed your contract Ruufarrl. You may not leave... without severe repercussions at least." He seemed to have a certain amount of glee at the prospect.


    "Normally you would be correct. But not today. Today, I will walk away unsanctioned."


    "And just how do you propose that is going to happen Ruufarrl. You are ending your contract early and without permission. This constitutes a Breach of Contract, one that will be a black mark for you and your record... and your Clan." This last he said with a smirk.


    Ruufarrl simply smiled at the implied threat, showing just enough fang to cause the Captain''s smirk to disappear as he steeled himself against what could be a pending attack. "It is going to happen... because of this." He pushed his hand out toward Captain Holvol, taking pleasure at the involuntary flinch that he gave before he saw that there was something in Ruufarrl''s hand.


    "What is this? A banking chip?"


    "Indeed. The very banking chip that holds my share of the reward from the attack. A sum of two hundred thousand marks. Enough pay for up to three full trading cycles for a Security Chief. Which, according to subsection 12.6-7 of the Contract Guidelines is more than enough to cover recompense of a Breach of Contract of this nature. Which means..." Ruufarrl leaned in closer to the Captain and lowered his voice to a growl, "I am leaving."


    The Captain held the chip in his hands as he processed the turn of events, his nose scrunched in displeasure. An action that made Ruufarrl''s skin crawl. His nose didn''t scrunch as most other race''s did. Rather than front to back along the bridge of the nose, a Tiradoran''s nose scrunched in from the sides of their face, the skin folds along the side of it nearly enveloping the wide proboscis like organ. It just didn''t look natural to him.


    "I... I suppose you might be right. Very well. I will take care of the paperwork and send it to you before we leave."


    Ruufarrl called out to him before he could fully turn around and leave, "No. It will be taken care of now. Before I walk off this ship, and with a copy of it transmitted to me. Such are regulations after all."


    "Regulations that you have just spit on, Ruulothi." Captain Holvol looked as though he had just swallowed something sour. Then he gave a heavy sigh of resentment, "Fine."


    He flipped open his wrist terminal and began filling out the appropriate forms, though he appeared to be taking his time in making sure everything was written in exacting order just to spite Ruufarrl, or perhaps to see if he got impatient and left. Finally he sent a copy of the form to Ruufarrl, who took his revenge by taking just as long reading it in exacting detail to ensure nothing was amiss. Finally satisfied, Ruufarrl nodded at the fuming Tiradoran and turned with an intentional flick of his Greater Mantle, pushing his Grav-trolley down the ramp and into the station.


    He followed the signs to the Shuttle boarding zones and found Conrad there waiting for him.


    "I got us a berth on a small cargo shuttle, so it shouldn''t be an issue with your crate there."


    "Thank you. I am glad you took the initiative." He turned towards the large viewport in the lobby, laying eyes on Conrad''s world of Nueva Rios for the first time without the aid of a camera.


    "A beautiful world."


    Conrad chuffed at this, "It absolutely is. Hard to believe I missed her this much, and she still has plenty of secrets to offer." He turned Ruufarrl and gestured to the Shuttle Ramps.


    "Ready to see her first hand?"

 Chapter 6

    -Ruufarrl-


    The trip down to the surface of the planet did not start as a gentle one. Sadly, for all the technological advances of all the known races, none had been able to develop a vessel capable of planetary landings that could make the entry into atmosphere a smooth one. Nor did it afford them with a view to compensate as only luxury vessels had windows for passengers.


    Neither of these things bothered him too much, but a view would have been nice. This was a new planet for him after all, and one could learn much from simply observing a colonized planet.


    From what Conrad had told him and what he had seen from the station, much of this planet was still wilds. There were three major continents, and all were colonized to an extent, though only one had a well-developed capital city. This primary continent, the one where the governing body of the planet was housed and where Conrad lived, was named Esperando Tierra by the original colonists. It was a grand continent with sprawling fields and forests, a large northern mountain range, a landlocked freshwater sea and diverse biomes. The Capital City of Cormorant was well situated to take advantage of many features the continent offered. It sat on the eastern coast, on the banks of a large river, just south of a peninsula that included the northern mountains. This positioning giving it ready access to ores and other materials from the mountains as well as the bounties and travel opportunities that the seas and river offered, while the mountains protected it from the worst of the weather that blew down from the north. Sea effect weather would still affect them, but they were on the leeside of the winds that created the powerful storms that sometimes formed further south and blew in between the continents. The initial colonists and surveyors had chosen the location well.


    Large forests and fields were also nearby, and the colonists had taken full advantage of them as well. Farms and ranches spread out from Cormorant and other, smaller towns cropped up as the distance grew. They maintained the forests well to prevent over logging and clear cutting, but this also sometimes led to problems with the local wildlife that had not yet learned to stay clear of their interstellar visitors. The colony itself was still fairly new, and only just predated Humanity''s contact with the Galactic Community. In fact, it had been from this system that their Survey ships had launched from and made first contact. Something that had shaken and startled the whole of GalCom.


    They had not believed that it was possible for someone to cross what they had taken to calling the Barrier Expanse. It was a region of space that was farther across than their Jump drives had been able to push through safely, and wider than they had yet explored. They had accepted it as an impassable barrier and had decided that when and if expansion that reached around it occurred, then they would get to see what lay beyond it. It was this Barrier Expanse that had prevented Humanity and GalCom from reaching one another, and that had allowed the Humans to develop and expand on their own and without interference.


    The Humans simply called this region of space The Gulf. A name that would notify an astute scholar or observer that they never considered it to be impassable, just a temporary obstacle. Wanting to find the source of the signals that they could detect on the other side, and not satisfied with being unable to cross it with their current engines and equipment, they simply got to work and eventually built new ones that could. Their arrival in, and sudden departure from, an occupied system from a direction that shouldn''t have been possible sent many in the Community into a panic. The Humans had at least tried to communicate before leaving, but after a number of vessels began to approach them without any common ground being found, they turned around and jumped back out of the system. Thankfully they had left behind a quickly repurposed scanner probe with copies of their languages and a promise to return peacefully. That soothed some when it was eventually translated, but their method and direction of entry was still a concern.


    Their return did not come in person. They had instead sent a small, unmanned ship with automatic communication and recording functions that returned after a set amount of time. Apparently, they had recorded quite a bit of comms traffic during their first, brief time in system and had been able to complete a rough translation of the local language, helping them communicate their intent. Only after confirming that they would not be attacked did they again jump in with crewed ships.


    It took some time and bargaining, but in the spirit of maintaining friendly relations with the GalCom they shared their engine schematics, creating a flood of new trade and travel options on both sides of the Expanse. Though they had done so only in trade, requesting the tech for creating Grav fields. A feat they had yet to be able to reproduce themselves.


    "It was also why they kept careful watch on arriving ships in all their systems. The galaxy is still big and largely unexplored, and they have no guarantee of protection just yet. Nor any guarantee as to who exactly got a look at their tech."


    Ruufarrl waited patiently for the turbulence to smooth out into the descending glide of a returning shuttle. Conrad had been, quite literally, shaken up. He growled in amusement as he realized that this was likely the human''s first planetary re-entry. The youngblood steadied himself with a laugh of his own. "Wasn''t expecting that."


    After the descent smoothed out, the rest of the trip was uneventful. The shuttle retained its glide pattern for about another 15 minutes before banking into final approach. Ruufarrl braced himself but found it to be unnecessary. The landing went as smoothly as the rest of the glide. As soon as they had come to a complete stop the loading hatch opened, letting in bright sunlight and loud noise. One of the crew came out of the locked forward section to get them ready to disembark, yelling to them over the sound of the Pulse Engines of other craft lighting up and taking off.


    "As soon as you are off, you need to head to the Customs Office! It is the large building with the red doors to your left! Let''s get you and your cargo out first!"


    They both acknowledged that they understood and began unstrapping themselves and their items from where they were secured, a fairly quick process considering their light loads. The longest part was waiting a few minutes for a loader to grab Ruufarrl''s cold storage crate. Conrad looked outside while they waited then, disappointed, turned to speak to Ruufarrl, "Oof, its mid-morning. We are in for a long day."


    Ruufarrl made to respond but then they heard the loader coming, in the time it had taken the worker to arrive the engines and their crafts were far enough away that they could hear normally again. The voice of a human male came to them as they rounded the corner.


    "Aight gentlemen, which of these items are yours? Wait... Conrad?"


    Ruufarrl saw Conrad smile in belated recognition of the older human with white hair in the loading rig, "Mr. Davidson! What are you still doing working the docks? I thought you were due to retire last year."


    "HA! Someone has to keep these young fools in line." He paused a moment before becoming more somber. "Ehh, Beth took ill again not long after you shipped out. We needed to hold on to the medical benefits ''til she gets better."


    "Ahh damn... Did she go into remission again? How is she doing?"


    The man maneuvered his loading rig into position and clamped onto the indicated crate, "Yes, but with luck, this''ll be the last time. It didn''t hit as hard this time around and the meds have been working well. So, she''s recoverin'' steadily."


    Conrad let out a sigh, "Well, let her know I wish her well, will you? I don''t know how long I will be back for, so I may not get the chance to do it myself."


    The older human smiled and nodded, "That I can do kid. She''d be happy to know you''re doin'' alright. Speakin'' of..." He looked pointedly at the Mantles the two of them were wearing and at Ruufarrl in particular. "Looks like you have been quite busy and have made some interesting acquaintances. I''m smellin'' one hell of a story. If you do have time to visit, you''ll need to bend my ear." He then turned to Ruufarrl, "Master Ruulothi, my apologies for the rudeness of the delayed introductions. My name is Isaiah Davidson. I was this young man''s Trainer and Supervisor while he worked the docks here."


    Ruufarrl nodded his thanks to him. "No offense taken; it is quite understandable. Your lessons have certainly served him well in his work skills and ethic." He gestured toward the man and his exo-suit. "It takes talent, ability and admirable determination to stay active in a field dominated by youngbloods. You move well in the suit. It doesn''t seem to be of standard make though?" He left off with an inquisitive tilt of his head and one ear turned back.


    "Hah! You speak too nicely of me. I''m just an ornery old coot that doesn''t know any better. As for this thing... Heck, this rig is nearly as old as I am. But you have a good eye. She''s human built but based off the rigs we bought from you lot to try and match-up some of our shipping. We humans have a tendency to... tinker with things and try to improve them. Tryin'' to find a way to put our own mark on things, I guess. I s''pose humanity as a whole is never content with just sittin'' around with their thumbs up their backsides if they can tinker and improve. Or...well... search for improvements at least."


    They were almost to the Customs Office when he slowed, deep in thought about something, and turned to Ruufarrl again. "I hope you don''t mind my askin'', I know it says, ''Personal Cargo'', but I figure that you aren''t going to be wantin'' to haul this thing around with you all the time. What''s in it? We have some different storage facilities available dependin'' on how you need it stored."


    "That... is the remains of my former subordinate. I am transporting them back home for a funeral."


    Conrad looked back and forth from Ruufarrl to the crate in surprise. "Wait, that''s Kiiroth? Hold on... umm Mr. Davidson. He''s a... He''s a fallen warrior. He was killed in an attack on our ship, protecting us."


    Isaiah looked down at the crate again, then stood up as straight as he could. "We have just the place. Gentlemen, if you would follow me, please."


    He turned away from the Customs Office and headed off towards the outer reaches of the complex and on the way he called for another loader on his comm unit to continue unloading the shuttle. A few minutes later and they stood in front of a small warehouse style building with the abbreviated insignia of the Sol Systems Alliance: A White winged Silver Delta on a field of Navy Blue, with nine Silver eight-point Stars arrayed around it on an orbital indication line, and a single Golden eight-point Star in the center of the Delta. Flanking the building''s door stood two human soldiers in what appeared to be Dress Uniforms of Black with Red and Gold trim. They carried aggressive looking modern rifles held at Shoulder Arms that had sharp, forearm length blades attached to them and combat harnesses with spare combat gear and storage pouches.


    Isaiah looked at the soldiers as they arrived. "Gentlemen, I apologize for the short notice as we were unaware of the arrival. I have a fallen soldier here, may I enter?"


    One of the soldiers nodded and put a finger to the soft spot under his ear and spoke so quietly that not even Ruufarrl could hear what was said.


    ?"Implanted comms? Interesting. These soldiers may look striking, but their weaponry looks is in excellent condition and their harnesses, though polished for parade readiness and cared for, are well broken in and practical. They look the part but are fully prepared and ready to act as soldiers as well. They must be Veteran Honor Guards."


    The soldier listened to a response before addressing the group. "Please wait for the Officer On Duty to arrive and escort you." He then returned to his almost statue perfect position. Isaiah nodded to him, "Thank you Marine."


    They did not have long to wait.


    Bare moments had passed before the door was opened by another soldier, Marines? they had been called. This Marine was also in a Dress Uniform, but he carried no rifle, instead he had a small handheld weapon attached to his belt. "Gentlemen, I am Lieutenant Havers. Please, come in. We will be going all the way to the back."


    "That was a very quick response. I did not notice it, but they must have seen us coming and notified them of our potential arrival in advance. Sharp, precise, and prepared. Good Soldiers."


    Ruufarrl and the others followed him in as he was thinking this, and the outer guards saluted as they passed. The room inside was a small vestibule, meant to hold a couple of offices and a greeting area and waiting room. On the far side of this vestibule was another set of double doors and another pair of Honor Guards. The Officer motioned towards four other Marines in Dress Uniform, and they fell in behind him. The door guards then hit a button on the wall next to them and the doors opened automatically, letting in a blast of chilled air and revealing a storage area. The guards on the side of this door also saluted as they passed.


    Ruufarrl counted only three other crates in the area, "No... these are not crates. They are draped in flags bearing the symbol from the entryway and shaped differently, and made of wood... No, these are coffins. An Honored Hall of the Dead, awaiting transport home. Thus, the Honor Guards."


    Lt. Havers led them to an empty section a few spaces away from the last of the coffins before turning and nodding to the four who accompanied him, who then turned and took up positions on either side of the crate that Isaiah was holding and grabbed onto it using the recessed holds. With a nod from them he released the crate, and they took the weight. Turning as single synchronous unit they lined the crate up to the slot and gently worked it in until it was seated in place. Finally, they all stepped back and saluted the crate as one. With a brief command from Lt. Havers they snapped their salutes down, then turned and marched single file out of the holding area.


    The Lieutenant walked up to and saluted Ruufarrl after the brief ceremony and the men had left, "On behalf of the Sol Systems Alliance, I wish to extend our sorrow for your loss. He will be safe here until such a time as you are ready to transport him home. May I have his name and rank for the records? Also, was he a Ruulothi?"


    "Of course. His name was Kiiroth, a Bloodclaw, and yes, he was. Thank you and your men for your Respect and Honor."


    "Thank you, sir. It is only our Duty. If you would please follow me, I will complete the paperwork so you may continue your visit. Are there any special considerations for his keeping that we need to be aware of?"


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    "No and thank you for asking. Those will be taken care of when I get him home."


    "Understood sir." They had spoken while moving and had left the chilled holding area and returned to the vestibule. Lt. Havers gestured toward the desk on the side, "Here we are."


    Completing the necessary files only took a few minutes and a few more questions. As far as official paperwork and filing goes, it was a relatively painless procedure. "Likely developed to minimize the effect on grieving families. A notable consideration and one too often overlooked."


    While Ruufarrl was filling out paperwork he noticed Isaiah and Conrad step aside for a few moments and Isaiah hand him a small device that looked similar to the portable Terminal that he had seen Conrad use from time to time during their lessons. He used it as one would a handheld comm, and handed it back to Isaiah after a short conversation.


    After they left Isaiah escorted them to the Customs Office before heading off to continue his shift. But before he left Ruufarrl spoke to him again, "Thank you for that. It was unnecessary but appreciated."


    "Unnecessary my geriatric ass. I served myself once upon a time, as has most of my family. Ask any military man and they will tell you the same thing. We don''t leave men behind." He looked behind him at the loading areas, "Now I''m ¡®fraid I have to get goin''. Enjoy your visit Master Ruufarrl. Conrad, good t¡¯see you again young man."


    Conrad opened the door and held it for Ruufarrl to enter as the man left. "Mr. Davidson lent me his comm unit earlier, so I was able to contact my parents. They should have a place ready at home by the time we get through the Customs process and make our way there. I also called Sensei Silva. She will be expecting us tomorrow afternoon."


    "I am to be a guest of your Clan then?"


    "I... If... You are ok with that? We have some spare rooms that we can convert to guest quarters. Were you planning on something else?"


    Ruufarrl stopped as he considered the room he now stood in. Several manned desks stood along a wall with lines of people waiting to be seen in marked rows. Those that were seen were sent to another room beyond this one through a set of manually unlocked doors next to which stood two guards, different from the ones he had already seen in both uniform and mannerisms. These were far less formal and sometimes spoke idly with each other and passing civilians. Ruufarrl assessed them as planetary or city security forces as opposed to military.


    His presence had started to gather growing attention as people began to talk amongst themselves about the surprising new arrivals. A few tried to respectfully avoid staring, but most attempted to take in as much detail of the new figure as they could. There was one human child in the room, and his eyes went nearly as wide as his head as he looked up at the towering Ruulothi before him with a whispered, "Woooooaaaahhh." The child then excitedly turned to grab at his mother and point, "Mommy! Mommy! Look an alien!"


    The boy''s mother looked around and, seeing Ruufarrl, panicked slightly, "No! Honey, that is rude! You can''t point at people like that and talk about them." She then looked up apologetically at Ruufarrl. "I am so sorry for my son. We don''t get many... umm... non-humans here."


    Ruufarrl gave a closed smile while nodding at her and waving his hand, "It is nothing of concern." The woman gave a stressed smile of gratitude and tugged on the boy''s arm, "Thank you. Now come on Charles, it is our turn."


    He watched them quietly a moment before turning back to Conrad as they moved to get in a line, "I had not yet given it my attention. I had wanted to learn of the state of things firsthand before deciding how to proceed. But if you are offering, then I shall of course accept."


    The youngblood let out a breath he did not seem to realize he was holding. "Hmm, he must have thought he overreached, but he came to the correct answer on his own. I could not have held such a breach of hospitality against him regardless, this sudden and unplanned situation is my own doing after all. But one must let the Huntwinds blow as they will when testing and learning of an entire species, otherwise one can''t truly accept the results as accurate."


    Their wait time saw those around them acclimate to his presence and either lose interest or regain control of their curiosity. Ahead of them, the young mother and her child finished their interview and went to leave through the doors, with her carrying the boy. He looked back over his mother''s shoulder with a big grin and waved at Ruufarrl as they exited the room. He smiled at the boy and waved in return, growling softly to himself in amusement. "Strong and brave. That cub has no fear."


    Then it was their turn. Conrad went through the process first, giving Ruufarrl a way to watch the process and formulate his own answers. He checked the majority of his luggage as tools and various spare parts from his job, including parts that Ruufarrl recognized as having been separated from the Stun Staff the youngblood had appropriated. A few minutes later and it was Ruufarrl''s turn to step up to the counter to speak with the receptionist. He was surprised by how simple the process was, merely a bunch of questions. He would be using Galactic Marks instead of local currency and using a Galactic Banking Chip, he was cleared for interstellar travel by GalCom, he was here on Clan business, his living and transportation arrangements had been made, his immune system was bolstered by bioengineered fortifiers, he was in good health, and more.


    The only issues he had were in checking his long case, and with food. In the case of his lockbox, he simply had to leave it here in secure storage. The captured stun staff held inside, while not a lethal weapon, was still considered to be a weapon by local authorities and could not be brought in without explicit permissions at the Government level. Since he was not an acting ambassador, he did not have those permissions. Thankfully, Conrad had been paying attention and brought up using his release forms from the ship to acknowledge his position as a Security Chief, giving him a plausible reason to have such a device. This information served to defray any concerns of his intending to cause harm or smuggle weaponry and opened up the option of having it kept here.


    The food was a different issue. As Humanity did not often get visitors to their planets outside of a few capital worlds, they did not yet have the systems in place that the rest of the GalCom did.


    Most peoples living in the GalCom were Carbon based life forms, as such they usually had similar dietary and nutritional needs. The differences were in their natural tolerance levels to certain elements and compounds. The Galactic Universal Diet put caps on the levels allowed for things like Arsenic, Alcohol, Capsaicin, Caffeine, Lead, Mercury, Salt, certain acids and other potentially poisonous or damaging elements. This usually meant that GUD food tended towards blandness. It was edible and nutritious, but generally tasteless and forgettable. As a creature with a primarily carnivorous diet, Ruufarrl had some natural resistance to most of the concerning elements but had a lower tolerance for the manufactured and strictly vegetarian compounds, such as Alcohol and Ethanol based items and Caffeine. The Ruulothi had never developed a need or use for those compounds and chemicals. He could consume them, but they would affect him heavily, and no sane person wants a drunken and/or hyper Ruulothi on their hands. Not even other Ruulothi.


    He was able to supply the answer to this quandary himself this time. Due to his travels as a Sheathed Claw and his time on the ship he had created a basic list on his wrist terminal that included his needs should the problem ever arise. He had also discovered, through both Kiiroth''s reports and his own interactions with Conrad during mealtimes, that Ruulothi and humans could consume most of the same foods. He showed his list to the woman checking him in and, when she asked if this was typical of his species, he answered that it was. She then asked if he could transfer the list to a notation terminal so that she could share it and have it on hand as a reference for any future Ruulothi visitors.


    Ruufarrl internally applauded her initiative and shared it freely.


    After they were fully screened, they exited through the locked doors and entered an even larger lobby area, filled with shops and food vendors and the noise of mingling people waiting to travel or waiting to meet travelers. Again, he drew a great many stares, but here many people were busy and those that weren''t often lost sight of him through the shifting crowds, so it wasn''t quite as noticeable or obvious as before. Those that were persistently obvious about it were primarily just curious or interested, though there were a few that were cautious, or even fearful of his countenance. He summarily ignored them all and continued on his way. He knew this would be the best method to establish himself as "just another visitor".


    He wasn''t the only non-human, there was a Klendigal attempting to interest passersby in chartered tourism in GalCom Space in a small shop off to the side. Its light green skin, slim body, long limbs and large head gave off the impression of a stick puppet. But he was the only other that Ruufarrl could see. His observations supported what the woman had said earlier, they don''t get many non-human visitors here.


    Conrad seemed to either be politely ignoring all the attention or was just plain unaware of it. He focused on their movement and led them toward a sign that appeared to indicate vehicles of some sort, though Ruufarrl did not recognize the type.


    "Alright, one last stop before heading home. Just need to get a taxi to take us there."


    "Hired transport? Do Humans not have volunteer vehicles for use?"


    The youngblood seemed confused at this, "Volunteer vehicles... you mean like rentals? As in, you pay for their use for a length of time before returning them?"


    "That... Sounds like an appropriate approximation." Ruufarrl replied, slightly bemused himself now. "Though we do not need to pay for them. They are simply returned when the user is done."


    Conrad looked at him in surprise, "Woah, free transport? Nobody tries to steal them or keep them for extended lengths of time?"


    "They are tracked and monitored. Such things do occur, but they are rare. The vehicles themselves are often unwanted donations or refits, so the loss of one is minimal. The Proprietors that run the operation use it to train upcoming mechanics and engineers on large fleets of various vehicles."


    "Huh. Yeah, no. Anybody who tried that on most human worlds would find themselves without a vehicle fleet within short order. Sadly, too many people still think only of themselves. Using the Honor System is something reserved for trusted clients or between friends and family. I''m afraid Humanity is still a little behind you in that regard. Too many freedoms and not enough of a rigid social structure. But the rest of it sounds like a good idea. We do have some similar things, but they are on a much smaller scale. Usually just a single school or class, and they are never given to the public for use. Just returned to the original owners. It is more of a... loan option for training than a donation. Well, usually, at least. Besides, I have my own vehicle at home, we just need to get a one-way ride there."


    Ruufarrl considered this development as Conrad stepped up to the unmanned kiosk they had arrived at and accessed the terminal there to input his destination. He had to remind himself that Human Space was large, nearly half again that of what the largest groups in GalCom controlled. They were also a brand new race to the Galactic Stage. Until just over 200 years ago, they still thought they were the only ones in space. They had not had that outside catalyst to bring them together as a single people. Now that it had occurred it would still take time to work, several generations even for those that adapted the fastest to the news and didn''t have a fraction of the population that Humanity supported. "Not yet, but the bones are there, the support is in place for it. It will happen, eventually. But it is still something to keep in mind when dealing with them."


    While Conrad worked on the terminal Ruufarrl took another look around. He still saw people watching him, so he decided to test them as well. He gave a half smile and a small bow to the closest of his watchers. They startled and their skin flushed red before turning to what they had been doing beforehand. This seemed to set off a chain reaction through the others and they all returned to their own business now that he had taken notice of them. Though he could see some still sneaking glances at him. He growled quietly in amusement. "They have social decorum, but shocks to the system can make them forget about it briefly. It is indeed as he said, not as rigid, but still present."


    Conrad finished his work soon after and collected an access card spat out by the terminal. The card gave them access to the door behind the kiosk, and he led them into a large, open garage like structure that echoed with sounds from outside and within and smelled of engine fluids. He checked the card and looked for the signage painted on the walls before picking a direction and heading off.


    The vehicle they arrived at looked strange to him, but he did not figure out why until they had packed their bags and gotten in. There were windows on all sides and a door on two opposing sides, like many personal vehicles. The interior was roomy enough that he did not need to scrunch himself, it seems that the youngblood had considered that need when choosing a vehicle. The seats sat facing one another though, front and back. Once Conrad made sure they had everything secured and were both inside, he inserted the access card into the receptacle and the vehicle rose up on a Grav field and started off on its own.


    The vehicle was automatic. It apparently used the location programmed into the card to reach its destination.


    "Will we not have to return it ourselves?" He asked, now curious.


    "Not at all. Once we are there we disembark and remove our stuff, then push a button for it to return itself. If that button isn''t pushed, it does so on its own after ten minutes or if something is tampered with."


    He tilted his head at this, considering. "Hmm, efficient and cost effective. Solves the problem of staffing and theft as well as operator errors." Despite his understanding of the idea, he did not feel as though it was something that would take root in Ruulothi culture. Too much of a need for personal control. He knew of other races that did things in a similar fashion for all their public transit, but they were few among the many.


    That having been announced, he wasn''t averse to sitting back and enjoying the ride, looking out at the bright and lively city. The Shuttle Port was a fair distance from the edge of the Cormorant City to protect it from the noise of the engines, but the Taxi turned to take them straight through the core of the city itself. He watched as people and vehicles in bright colors flashed by below and alongside, he saw natural parks filled with families that broke up the segmented and ordered lines of the city. He watched the city change as they passed through the various districts, slowly growing in height until he couldn''t even see the tops of the buildings from within the car. Now that they were all around him, he studied the buildings more closely.


    The architecture was primarily a practical affair of simple boxes, but mixed in this forest of thin, sparkling metal and glass trees were buildings of sweeping lines, angular deflections, ovoid viewing platforms and arches, wide complexes with ornate bracework and the occasional building that stretched the imagination and boundaries of natural physics. There was no singular ideal behind the designs, they were an eclectic gathering of ideas given life. The pure chaos of individuality.


    There was a certain charm to it, in being able to see their creativity and potential given form. Though he preferred the ordered lines and unified idea of Ruulothi architecture, he understood the draw of being able to create something from nothing. He understood how their architecture tied directly to their own deeper natures as a race. Their Freedom of Spirit, of Expression and Thought.


    He knew that the Founders would not allow that Free Spirit to be given a place in GalCom. Not unless brought to heel or crushed. It represented too much of a threat to their way of life. It would be a wild blaze that could not be tamed and would spread to others. It would show others that there were other options for life beyond that which the Founders had shown them.


    "This freedom to choose is what we must remember that we once had. This is what we must strive for, and what we must now find a way to defend. Even if it is not yet our own."


    The city was changing again. The buildings were becoming smaller and giving way to smaller business style buildings before turning into what appears to be a housing district with clusters of dwellings were built around twisting streets. Then they went further, where the roads became more spread out, the buildings fewer and worked fields and scattered copses of trees started to appear. It was here that the car turned again, heading towards a tributary of the great river that ran by the City.


    Conrad noticed the change as well, "We are almost there. We don''t have a huge ranch or anything, but we have enough land to have some fun on and work on small projects and such. A little bit of woods for hunting and camping, some fields and some shoreline along the river for fishing and swimming. Ah, there."


    The car headed towards a tan building with two stories. There was a pair of large outbuildings and a couple of small ones dotted around the immediate area around it, and as they drew closer Ruufarrl could see a few well-worn paths head out back to the woods and down the hill to the river and a large garden next to one of the larger outbuildings, which now appeared to be made of some sort of opaque glass.


    Conrad''s family must have been watching for their arrival, as a middle-aged male and female human stepped out of the entrance to wave as the car came down. Once down the car gave a ''ping'' through its speakers, announced that they had arrived at their destination and automatically opened the doors. They stepped out on opposite sides of the vehicle and gathered their things before Conrad pressed the Return button on one of the doors. The car shut the doors itself then rose up and banked away to begin its return trip. Ruufarrl scratched his chin at the disappearing car before shaking himself and turning to his hosts.


    The youngblood''s parents had already embraced him and were talking excitedly, smiling and leaning into one another. This gave Ruufarrl pause, and he worked his brain to reconcile what he saw but decided to wait until he had more information to reach a conclusion. He chose instead to observe them as they reconciled.


    The male had short cut brown hair shot through with gray, and was built in a similar manner to Conrad, tall and on the large side of average, but fit in a way that made him appear to be used to hard labor. His mate was about a hand shorter than him. She was slim and had long black hair swept back over her shoulders. When she turned Ruufarrl noticed a decorative clip of some sort in the back of her hair, seemingly keeping it from flowing freely and getting in her way.


    Once he noticed that Ruufarrl was waiting Conrad pulled himself back and introduced them all to one another. "Mom, Dad, this is Chief Ruufarrl. Chief, these are my parents, Dianna and Gregor McLaughlin."


    "Yehk, Greg, please sir. We only use my full name for official documents... or when Dianna is mad at me." The man smiled and held out his hand in greeting. This wasn''t a Ruulothi custom, but it was one in which Conrad had already schooled him on.


    Ruufarrl met the hand with his own and gently shook them. His paw was nearly half again the size of Greg''s, but they managed it. "It is a pleasure to meet you both. You have raised a fine child, and I am not the Security Chief anymore, just Ruufarrl."


    The female, Dianna, stepped forward then, putting her hand on her mate''s shoulder and leaning into him. "Conrad has told us at least some of what happened. Thank you so much for looking out for him. I don''t really know what I would have done if we had lost him."


    "Mom..."


    "In truth I did very little. Conrad did the vast majority of the work; I merely placed the keystone into that which he had built."


    "Even so, thank you. It helps me to know that someone is looking out for him. He has always been too independent to ask for help. Now, how is everyone feeling about lunch? Mr. Ruufarrl, I''m afraid I don''t know what you can eat, do you have any restrictions or allergies?"


    "I have found that I can eat most human foods, though I must ask if you would avoid using any intoxicants like alcohol or stimulants."


    Dianna furrowed her brow and pinched her lips in thought at this. "Hmm, no alcohol won''t be a problem. But stimulants... Right! Ok so no coffee and only certain kinds of tea with permission, understood. Please, everybody come in. Conrad, if you would please show him to the old sitting room? We have it set up."


    "Can do mom."


    His hosts turned and waved them forward before preceding them. As they walked, he noticed that they slid their heads together. It was then that something clicked inside Ruufarrl''s mind.


    "Of course. Humans do not have claws, so they would use their arms and hands first, and then move to the head and face for intimacy. The opposite of Ruulothi, where our most trusting gesture is to allow another to put their arms around us and submit to their claws. That is something that will take a certain amount of getting used to."


    Ruufarrl shook himself and refocused, following the family into the home. Conrad led him up a wide flight of stairs just off the entryway to the second floor and through a door at the end of a short hallway.


    "This is kind have always been an extra room, so we swap it out as needed." He paused a moment before laughing, " Oh hey! Heh, this bed should be big enough and strong enough to hold you. My Dad and I built it a long time ago. We kind of... over-engineered it a little bit for human standards. I had forgotten all about it."


    Ruufarrl nodded and smiled. "It is good to make things one''s self. You always have a greater understanding of it after."


    He dropped his bag next to the bed, then started as he heard a scurrying from underneath, and then a low "mmmmmrrrrrrrrrhhhhh".


    Ruufarrl looked up and saw, glaring and growling at him from a chair on the far side of the bed, with black fur, a long tail, ears back, hackles raised and tail puffed out... a tiny quadruped Ruulothi.


    Slowly, he turned toward a suddenly very stiff Conrad, raised an eyebrow and turned one ear back.


    "Ah... shit."

 Chapter 7

    -Conrad-


    "Ah... Shit."


    Conrad looked at the little creature in utter shock. He could feel Ruufarrl''s questioning gaze boring into him from the side, but the gears of his mind had ground to a halt.


    "What in the hell?"


    Unable to come up with an explanation, and needing to have an answer, he fell back on what any child at home would do.


    "HEY DAD! Can you come here for a minute?"


    There was a brief answer that was muffled by the walls of the house, but then he heard his father''s footsteps on the staircase. A few moments later and he stood in the doorway behind them.


    "What''s up? Is there something that we mi... OH! Solais That''s where you went!" Conrad''s shock became complete as he heard his father start cooing at the cat to calm it down, a sound he had never once heard come out of his mouth. But instead of continuing his lock-up, it shook him out of it.


    "Dad, I thought that Terran creatures outside of approved farm animals were banned after the Rogers Incident. Where did you get a cat from?"


    His father got close enough to gently pet the cat, drawing its attention away from the intruders in its space before looking back at him. Solais arched up into his hand and gave a satisfied rowl as he pressed into his father''s hand for chin scratches. "Oh, right, you were gone when that changed, I think it was... eight months ago now? The Planetary Senate reversed the decision, so long as all exo-pets are chipped for location data, identification and are rendered incapable of breeding outside of highly monitored and regulated breeding specialists."


    He had picked the now affectionate cat up and it was purring contentedly in his arms. "To be honest I wanted a dog, but there is a four to five year wait list for them unless we want to spend an arm and a leg to ship one out ourselves from a recognized breeder. Diana got lucky and found this little guy who had slipped through the cracks of the system and brought him home that day." He sighed for a moment and stopped petting the cat to adjust his arms. It responded by head butting his hand to provoke more pets and he chuckled. "Little bugger won''t leave me alone when I am home. He has apparently decided that I am his."


    His father then looked up wide eyed when he heard Ruufarrl chuff in amusement at his last statement, realizing the other potential problem. "Ah, my apologies for not warning either of you. He''s been with us for so long I forgot to consider it as a potential sticking point. Mr. Ruufarrl, I suppose an explanation is in order."


    "I believe I understand enough from my own observations and the conversation, but if you wish to elaborate, I won''t stop you. Learning more would go far in providing context and preventing misunderstandings. I am not one of the pretentious fools that your people had met before. Keeping domesticated creatures is not a feature unique to humans, even amongst ourselves, and we Ruulothi have already been acquainted with the idea of analogues from your home world... Lions I believe they were? I assume that this one is a smaller variety of the same?"


    Solais had stopped purring and stared balefully at Ruufarrl when he talked, but he did not become aggressive again. Conrad took the opportunity to fill in some information now that he wasn''t brain locked.


    "Yes and no. They are from the same genus, or family of creatures. There are a large number of cat varieties back on earth. Many species of large cat like lions, tigers, jaguar and leopards are known to be man-eaters and live out in the wilds and deeper reaches. There are a greater number of what we call "Small cats" that also live in the wilds, but some of them, like snow leopards, mountain lions and cheetahs are nearly as big as the large cats, so the name is a little misleading. Umm, here. I can show you."


    Conrad went to the room''s terminal and turned it on. A few moments later and he had images of the creatures he had named up on screen. Ruufarrl leaned in with interest as Conrad continued to explain.


    ________________________________________________________________


    -Ruufarrl-


    "Protection, companionship, serenity, vermin control." He thought. In the end, the reasons that most humans kept the pets that they did was at least one of these. He was surprised to find that the majority of pets were predator species. This was different from other GalCom races that he had seen. Most of those that kept non-sentient animals in their homes strictly kept creatures that didn''t remind them of something that could hurt them, or that was actively capable of doing such. Though the damage that could be done was often minimal, such as in the case of cats or smaller creatures like rodents and weasels. In others, such as with dogs, venomous animals and larger creatures like horses, they were fully capable of killing the hands that fed them.


    Humans were certainly a different breed. Conrad had taken him through the bewildering overgrown forest that was human pets. After the many varieties of cats and their cousins he moved on to dogs and their wild relatives, wolves. To Ruufarrl these dogs seemed to fill a similar role among humans as Verkar lizards did for Ruulothi. From dogs they moved to other, smaller creatures, usually kept for children. Then to fish, insects, reptiles and amphibians, and then birds. Somehow, the human''s ability to adapt themselves to an environment seemed to extend to creating a safe habitable environment for their companion creatures as well. For each different type of creature they discussed Conrad would show him the aggressive wild variants and how they hunted. Sharks and the large aquatic reptiles called alligators and crocodiles had held his attention for some time. Both of these creatures had similar analogues not only on his own home planet, but on others as well. He found it most interesting to compare the species and their habits. In either case they were ancient species that had withstood the test of time with little change, both on Earth and in the other places that Ruufarrl knew their counterparts to exist. Whether in a confluence of nature, or simply by victory of the evolutionary lottery, these two species in particular would be easily recognizable to many of GalCom''s member species.


    Ruufarrl was particularly interested by the concept of hunting dogs and the rare, but still practiced, tradition of hunting with hawks and eagles, and was equally intrigued when he found out that humans sometimes trained their pet animals for war and policing. Though this was usually dogs as cats were too independent to be properly trained. A fact that had given him great amusement. "Not so different with our appearances or our pride, are we?"


    Hunting and fighting with animals was an idea that he did not believe had been considered among his own people. War and hunting was for warriors and hunters, not trained pets. Despite this ingrained belief, he could see the benefit of such things, especially for a race that wasn''t as readily built for lethal combat as the humans and needed every advantage they could get.


    After aiding in the explanations for a bit, Greg departed to help his mate in other activities and had taken the now disinterested Solais with him. They continued to go over the various creatures from Earth that Humanity used, from pets to farm and labor animals. They had just moved on to the local animals of Nueva Rios that were under consideration for domestication when they were called for lunch.


    Lunch was an interesting experience for him, his first truly human meal. Diana had thoughtfully kept the component parts of what she called "chicken fajitas" separate from one another so that each could build their... edible wrapping as they saw fit. She had even thought to make a separate batch with no seasonings and provide him with a list of ingredients, just in case.


    He saw nothing wrong with the parts of the whole, so tried it as intended. Though he did omit the cheese after warnings of it being partially incompatible with their own cats. He saw no reason to test the Hunt Winds. All told it stood in exception to what he had become used to. The seasonings were bright, but not too powerful. The meat... was something different. He knew what a chicken was, thanks to his earlier research with Conrad, but did not expect this. It was pleasant and light with none of the grease, aftertaste or stringy-ness common to other types of meat he had eaten. It combined very well with the sauce and other ingredients, and he suspected it could be prepared a number of different ways due to its properties. It was something he would be happy to have again.


    After lunch was over and picked up Greg took Ruufarrl to their entertaining room to give him the "Human Experience" in a way that he thought might appeal to the Ruulothi. Conrad and Dianna just shook their heads and laughed when he announced it. He must have looked a little incredulous because they followed it up by insisting that he could learn something in the process. Conrad took the time to go out to one of their outbuildings, that he called a barn, to do some work on his vehicle that he had spoken about earlier and make sure it was ready for use tomorrow.


    Greg talked as they got set up in incredibly comfortable, but slightly too small, cushioned chairs. "Something you probably should know about humanity, if you haven''t learned or figured it out already, is that we are highly competitive. Even over the simplest of things, and if we can''t find an outlet for that competitive spirit... well, then we just make one. One of our longest lasting sayings is to never tell us that something is impossible, because then we will do it just to prove you wrong. So, Mr. Ruufarrl, welcome to the wonderful world of Sports!"


    With that announcement, he activated their wall mounted broadcast terminal and picked out a signal to view. "Now I figure as a warrior race you will appreciate the more physical sports. So lets start here. This is an Earth based broadcast, recorded and played from a local way station. It is called American Football. The country that it came from no longer truly exists, but it is still a wildly popular sport on both the professional and collegiate levels and has taken root in many developed worlds. This is the..." He paused as he looked at the display, "Ah, the Centauri Knights and the Glasian Condors. This should be a good match.¡±


    The screen flickered and showed a massive stadium packed with people, proving his statement of popularity. The field had painted lines marked in intervals and two teams of humans clad in what appeared to be riot gear stood opposing one another. It did not take long for him to recognize the physicality required of the "game", as the two teams of humans repeatedly slammed one another into the ground. In one particular case, one of the humans caught the strangely shaped ball and was promptly folded in half by another running into him full force, dropping the ball. Another saw the thrower of the team buried under what must have been nearly a thousand kilos of meat and bone before jumping up and running to the line again, seemingly uninjured.


    "This is certainly a brutal sport. Despite their seeming superb resilience, I suspect that injuries are common?"


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    "Yes, it is rare that a game is completed without someone going to see the medic. Most of them shake it off and troop it out before returning to play. For them, this is their life and lively hood. Serious injuries DO occur though. Most often this comes in the form of concussions and broken bones. Very rarely, thanks to advances in both rules and equipment, there can be a death or severe permanent injury. To be honest, a lot of long term players do develop some sort of condition from suffering repeated concussions. No amount of padding and hardware can stop your brain from rattling around in your head from a hard impact. But they get paid millions per season, so they can afford to ignore the risks for the pay."


    Ruufarrl blinked repeatedly and his ears and whiskers twitched as his mind caught up to what was just said, "I am sorry, did you say millions? In human currency or Galactic marks?"


    Greg laughed wryly, "Either, our currencies are pretty close in comparative value right now and the players can actually choose which they wish to be paid in. Oh, and the best of them earn many millions per season." He looked over at Ruufarrl with a smile, "Just doesn''t quite seem right, does it? But that is the nature of the sport and its demand and risks. Those stadiums and interplanetary flights for games don''t pay for themselves after all."


    They continued watching until the end of that game, resulting in the Knights claiming victory in a last minute push. Greg started cycling through the channels again as he talked, "So we have a similar sport called rugby, played with fewer pads and different rules. We have some slower and less risky games like baseball, which involved hitting a ball with a stick and running a course to reach certain objectives. Then there is Soccer, or true Football, which involves kicking a ball into a large net.


    Then we have more active sports like Hockey, which is played on ice and never stops moving. Racing moves quickly, but it passes slowly unless you are watching rally racing. Basketball is pretty fast paced, but rarely exciting and the basic goal is the same as true Football, getting a ball across a playing zone and into a net. Any preferences?"


    "You play sports on ice? What about other biomes and in space?"


    "Yup, they strap metal blades on their feet and skate around on them to try and get a sliding puck into a very small net. As for the rest, I am sure you can find something for everywhere. Swimming and boat racing, aerial acrobatics with planes and parachutes, desert races. There are woodsmen competitions where they have a variety of tree cutting related tasks that they compete to find out who can do the fastest. As for Null-G, ehh, not much. There''s a few young sports like G-ball, which is basically space soccer, but they haven''t taken off yet as it usually winds up with people flailing about until they crash into something. I think there might be a G-Laser Tag, or just G-Tag that is gaining some interest, but none of them are broadcast on anything but local channels just yet."


    As he spoke he paused momentarily on the various signals... channels he had called them, to allow them to start playing a small window of the sport in question and allow Ruufarrl to see what he was speaking of. For those available at least. He felt that the Zero-G games would be interesting in their inherent complexity, but there were none to be found.


    "Is there no limit to their imagination? I remember their history from Conrad. They rarely war amongst themselves anymore, so they create bloodless wars by proxy? Their sports seem to use similar tactics and team building as militaries. Is this truly just about competing, or is it something more?"


    Ruufarrl considered the options presented to him as he mused and found himself intrigued by the ice game. "This Hockey of yours seems to be an interesting concept."


    Greg nodded at this, "Alright, Hockey it is."


    The screen changed and was filled with images of a much smaller playing arena that was covered in ice. Humans wearing pads and helmets, standing on metal blades and swinging sticks at a small black object careened around this arena at breakneck speeds. "He was right, they do not stop moving in the slightest. Is their endurance truly so... Ah, there. it was so quick I nearly missed it. They don''t pause to switch out members, they simply put another one out when one comes back to rest. Hmm, even so. The hours of practice they must put in to maintain that energy level and coordination out of seeming chaos must be near to that of our own combat champions." As he continued watching he saw them slam one another to the ice and the walls in a fight for supremacy of the object. The more heavily protected of their groups bent and twisted in ways that had to be painful to stop them from launching the object into their respective nets.


    Then, something happened. He did not recognize what it was, but Greg apparently did as he muttered, "Oh, you rotten bastard." Two of the opposing players closed on one another, clearly heated. Their gloves and sticks went flying and next thing he saw they were grappled onto one another and slamming their fists into each other. The fight was an ungainly one. Their footwear prevented them from gaining any real purchase for a powerful blow, but they repeatedly tugged one another into their fists until the official deemed they had fought for long enough and pushed in between them. He separated the fighters and sent them both to an isolation box, one obviously more injured than the other.


    "In terms of capability, that left much to be desired. It stood as next to nothing in comparison to what I saw on the ship. The medium may be difficult to work with, but I would hope to see something more... impressive of the humans."


    "Heh, you had that one coming alright. You don''t just get to high stick someone under the shield like that."


    "Are such things common? Do all of your sports allow their players to fight?"


    "Hmm, oh no, of course not. This is really the only team game that allows it, and only to a certain extent. Although..." He stopped and looked at Ruufarrl with a mischievous grin, "I have saved the best for last, if fighting interests you."


    Ruufarrl tilted his head and gave a slight grin as the ear closest to Greg twitched back and forth. "So, not only do they have these sports, but they treat combat as a sport too. This should prove worthwhile."


    "Indeed it does."


    With a couple inputs from a control stick the screen again shifted. This time it showed a very small combat arena with a fence around the outside. Two fighters stood facing off and circling one another with an official of some sort in the arena with them. It appears they had lucked out and caught the very start of the match. Seemingly in opposition to what he had just seen in their other sports, these two combatants were small. They continued to circle for a few moments before closing and offering measured blows against one another. "Testing resolve? No, He mentioned that these are professional sports, they would not need to do such at this level. They are testing reach, reaction and response."


    The match continued in this manner for a few more moments, then one of them threw a kick into the mix, aiming for his opponent''s head. The sheer range of flexibility startled him. Ruulothi only used their feet if grappled with an opponent or had thrown an opponent onto the ground. Even then it was a very predictable raking motion. But this, this was like having another arm to strike with. His years of experience showed him the subtle movements that preceded the attack, but it was still blindingly fast in comparison to what his own people were capable of.


    Nor did his motion provide much of an opening. He recovered from his miss with a rapid spin, maintaining the momentum created by the kick and placing himself square with his opponent again. His opponent, in turn, merely kicked his leading leg. "Such impacts will take time to build to the point where they are effective, it is a long term strategy. Unless of course he catches them in the middle of another of their head kicks. Then they will hit the floor hard."


    The high kicker took a couple of fast and hard blows to the body and head, clashing a couple of times himself before moving. He had waited until his opponent retracted another leg kick before dashing in for a grab that put them both on the fence. They worked each other back and forth to seek advantage with the pinned opponent driving blow after blow into high kicker''s body, but he had already secured the upper hand after compromising his opponents balance. He quickly shifted his grip and drove his hip into his opponent, yanking their feet off the ground and driving them to the floor. He then squirmed on top and started raining blows down onto his opponent.


    "Why would!? Ah right, no claws. They have no fear of entering into a front grapple as they have no claws with which to rend. Biting may be more limited, but it is still possible, at least in a life or death fight. Though I doubt they would allow such things in an exhibition style tournament fight like this."


    The fighter on bottom protected himself well, even reaching out to strike his opponent to keep them in check. Seeing this the high kicker on top changed their tempo, focusing blows primarily on one side. This served to bait his pinned opponent into another strike on the inactive side, and action that was immediately punished. The high kicker quickly wrapped himself around this outstretched arm, extended only for the briefest of moments, and leaned back to trap the arm between his body and his hands... and stretched.


    It took only seconds for the pinned opponent to signal a surrender, his arm extended to the limits of what it was capable of flexing naturally.


    "Well, that''s a shame. That was over too quick to really show anything at all. Ah, the next few matches should be good though. This was what we call the feather weight division, lightweights." Greg paused in consideration for a moment in his explanation before continuing. "Oh yeah, we classify the matches based on a weight system to try and create a more even playing field. That way no one can simply toss their opponent around like a wet noodle. The next few, we got one middleweight weight, and a heavyweight match. Then a women''s fight."


    "Ah, so your women participate too? Interesting. Are their matches like this one?"


    "Ehhh, some are, some aren''t. They don''t have the same upper limit to weight divisions either, so it is a tough comparison. Don''t get me wrong though, they can fight just fine. If anything they are more energetic and driven than most of the men."


    They heard the front door open, and Conrad came through to see what they were up to.


    "Oh boy. He got you in deep with the sports doesn''t he? Just remember that those gloves they wear soften the blows a bit. They are for both protecting their hands and faces from getting broken, and to prolong the match for entertainment. If they didn''t have them, then those things would usually be over in moments... Anyway, I am going to bed early. We have both been up for nearly a full day now, so don''t worry about dinner for me."


    Greg and Ruufarrl both acknowledged him and he set off to tell his mother that he wouldn''t be up for dinner before heading up the stairs to his room.


    Now that something had been said, Ruufarrl could feel the exhaustion creeping in. Even so, he felt too invested in watching the matches and wanted to see and learn more, so he pushed past his exhaustion and stayed up a little longer to continue.


    The skill of the combatants in the ensuing matches was evident. Their movements were precise and practiced, and their strategies rehearsed. These were no part time warriors, they clearly spent the majority of their time training.


    These next matches showed clear divisions in fighting styles, power and endurance. Compared to the light dancing of the Featherweights, the Heavyweights plodded around the arena, direct in their intent. They did not dodge so much as they simply absorbed the blows of their opponents, blows that seemed to hit like a runaway grav-trolley. Their sheer power reminded Ruufarrl of the knuckle plated Kordanite he saw among the Pirate crew. They fought in a similarly blunt manner, but the humans still sprinkled in their kicks, knees and elbows in equally devastating and potentially bone breaking strikes. This flexibility of both mind and body that allowed them to use every part of their bodies as a weapon was something completely unique to humans.


    For every other warrior type race, they had a set of natural weapons that they based their combat styles off of. For the Kordanites it was their knuckles, for the Ruulothi and Clantor, it was their claws, for others their teeth, or feet. But for Humans, everything was equally in play. He was starting to see how Conrad was able to rapidly change mental paths and address each new threat as it arose. It was a trained response, but one that he clearly possessed.


    The Heavyweight match continued with the fighters getting winded and grappling while standing, punching one another as they leaned against the fence. The match ended with one of the fighters lowering his guard for a strike and catching a well timed or lucky counterblow in exchange, knocking the man stiff to the floor. Ruufarrl shuddered to himself when he considered the amount of trauma necessary for such a thing to occur. ¡°And they do this for a living, so it is a common occurrence. That kind of an impact would break a Ruulothi jaw. In truth, most of the blows shown in that match would break a Ruulothi¡¯s bones. In a fight of Human against Ruulothi, it would entirely depend on which of the combatants struck the first telling blow. Would the Ruulothi be broken first, or the Human be shredded as it closed in?¡±


    As they Middleweight fight started, Ruufarrl saw a balance between the two extremes. There were equal parts absorbing and dodging, striking and grabbing. More balance between footwork and handwork. Their energy expenditure was more focused. Where the Featherweights spent most of their energy moving, and the Heavyweights in power blows and strength struggles, the Middleweights spent it with their standing strikes and grapples. Each opponent engaged for dominance and retreated to just outside of striking range on a failure.


    Their match was more reminiscent of what he had seen from Conrad¡¯s movements, even though Ruufarrl would classify him as being just under the size of the heavyweights. ¡°This must mean that he is lighter on his feet than the standard human his size. A result of his training or upbringing? Or perhaps both.¡±


    This fight didn¡¯t end with a fighter on the ground or signaling defeat. It went through all three rounds and ended only after the final timer expired, showing the pure physical constitution of the fighters. Both were winded, bloody and beaten, but neither showed any signs of stopping, even at the end. An impressive display, all told. ¡°If this is what their civilians do for fun and a job, I wonder what their military is truly like. Those Veteran Honor Guards looked as though they stood in the shadow of the same tree as those fighters. Is that the standard? Or is it an exception? I will have to ask if they will speak on it tomorrow.¡±


    Ruufarrl suddenly yawned. He covered his fangs out of respect for his hosts and shook himself. Greg chuckled at the display, and certainly didn¡¯t seem to be offended in any manner by the lack of decorum Ruufarrl had shown.


    ¡°Mister Ruufarrl, please, you don¡¯t need to force yourself to stay up for our benefit. I understand ship time is different from planet time. I did a couple tours of duty in the Navy myself when I was Conrad¡¯s age, I remember it all too well. Please, get some sleep, the bed is a memory nano-gel, it should let you sleep just fine. I will let Dianna know we will be having a light dinner. See you in the morning.¡±


    ¡°I apologize for my rudeness. And thank you, I will indeed head to sleep.¡±


    Ruufarrl stood with a little difficulty, he seemed to have been a tight fit in the chair and it did not want to let him go. He returned to the room he had originally seen the cat in and sank into the bed after he closed the door.


    Then he continued to sink. He stiffened in alarm, then purred in deep satisfaction as his body relaxed in ways he had not known that it could. He practically melted into the bed as it subtly shifted to support his different body shape.


    As he relaxed he thought, ¡°This¡­ This alone would be worth any trouble in allying with the humans.¡±


    He was trying to figure out how to get one of these mattresses to Ruuloth Prime when he finally faded out to sleep.

 Chapter 8

    ????-Ruufarrl-


    He woke with the dawn.


    Ruufarrl was so used to ship living at this point that he had forgotten to close the window coverings to prevent the early sunlight from waking him. The difference in environment would have bothered him had the situation been different, but the wonderful bed that he lay on had overridden any issues with sleeping in a strange place and the lack of background humming and vibration from the ship''s engines.


    Or maybe he had just been that tired.


    He let his senses absorb what they could from his position. Some sort of creature was making a warbling sound from outside, heard faintly through the closed windows. He could hear someone moving around downstairs. He thought it likely to be Conrad''s mother, Dianna, as he could smell some food being prepared. He thought about the clarity with which he could smell and hear for a moment before cracking open one eye and turning his head.


    His door had been opened during the night. It now stood open a little wider than the flat of his hand. He narrowed his eyes and started to sit up, then realized that something was weighing down his bed coverings.


    He lifted his head and looked down. Right where his legs joined his body, lay a curled form with black fur. "Ahh, so it was you that came in then."


    Solais stirred as he shifted and spoke. The cat looked up at him with a dreary laziness, then rolled itself so that it once again lay against his legs, it''s paws sticking up in the air and curled.


    Ruufarrl snorted at the display. "So, you have decided you can trust me after all." He reached down and gently pet the cat''s neck as he had seen Greg do the day before. The cat gave a small chirrup, leaned into the touch and began to purr. He remembered the conversation he had with Conrad while looking up the animals, about how their pets were also considered to be stress relief for those that owned and/or pet them.


    He smiled to himself as he lay back down and continued to pet Solais, immersing himself in the tactile softness of its fur and the gentle vibration of its purr. He had never kept pets himself, considering them before to be a waste of resources and time. But now he wondered if perhaps he had missed the point entirely. "Perhaps a few more minutes of rest wouldn''t hurt after all."


    _____________________________________________________


    He woke again a few minutes later to more noise in the hall and a stronger smell from the cooking food. He looked down at the cat that still sat between his legs, "Sorry little one. It is time for me to rise." He gently worked himself out of the bed, with the cat still stubbornly refusing to move from its position. Once he was out of the bed Solais simply stretched out and rolled over again.


    Again he chuckled at the cats antics, "Very well then. The bed is yours."


    Ruufarrl took a few moments to get properly attired and headed downstairs. Along the way he met a very dreary Conrad, the source of the commotion that had awoken him. He was coming out of a side room and still looked half asleep. Conrad paused as he noticed him and then nodded before pointing back at the room he had exited.


    "Should have shown it to you before. This is the washroom. You have a shower, sink and a... bio waste disposal... a toilet." He stopped talking a moment as his mind ground into grudging service. "I... Do you... Eh whatever, you''ll figure it out. You take care of bodily functions and hygiene in there. I will see you downstairs."


    Ruufarrl cocked his head in amusement as Conrad went down the stairs. He decided it might be a good idea to at least familiarize himself with the facilities, so he stepped inside the indicated room. The sink was wet, likely the object that Conrad had been working with before he exited. The large stall resembled the sanitation pods that were standard throughout the GalCom. Though it did not look like a sonic unit, he suspected that it would be easy enough to use. The toilet was the only object left. Obviously built for human proportions rather than of a universal design, he looked suspiciously at the water in the bowl. "Not a Sonic-Pneumatic system, nor any sort of closing cover to create the necessary pressure for such a system, it must have something to do with the water. I suppose that it might be a gentler system designed for planet side use, given the lack of metal on the unit." He then shrugged to himself and left the room, "There will be time to learn later."


    The smell of strange food got stronger as he went downstairs, and he followed it to the source. Dianna stood in the cooking area, swatting and fussing at Conrad as he tried to sneak what looked to be thin strips of fried meat from a plate. She shooed Conrad out and turned to him, "Good Morning, Mr. Ruufarrl. Breakfast will be out shortly. Shall I assume you will be having water again?"


    "Yes, thank you. Might I ask what it is you have made?"


    "Of course. I''ve put together toast made of Barker''s bread with some local fruit jams to put on it. The bread is made from local grains and has something of an earthy but pleasant taste to it. We also have scrambled chicken eggs, home fries made from soft Stryka root and fried bacon."


    "That sounds like a wide ranging set. Jams and eggs I am familiar with in general, we use some fruits and animal eggs to complement our diets. I am curious about the Stryka root, this special bread and bacon. What are they?"


    "Ah, ok. Hmm, well I guess I can start from the very beginning to explain a few things. I don''t know how things are done in your sector of space, but we made a big mistake a long time ago when we first started exploring. We introduced earth plants to a habitable world, and it completely overturned the balance there. The introduced Earth plants lost, there just weren''t enough of them to overcome a hostile environment, but they did take some of the local flora with them, and it started an ecological disaster. So nowadays there are laws and strict regulations so that we don''t bring anything with us that goes into the ground or let loose into the wilds.


    So, knowing that, we have to find local counterparts in order to make some of our favored items. Terrence Barker was an original colonist, a brewer by trade, who figured out how to take the grain from Rattleweeds and make it useable for bread and alcohol. Rattleweeds are a long grass that is covered in hard seedpods that rattle in the winds, but the seed pods are nearly impossible to get into without destroying the actual seed inside. He found that they could be soaked in a soda wash, which acted like an acid and would soften the cases, allowing the seeds to be separated, threshed out and used.


    Now, Stryka root is the closest local approximation we have to a potato, a starchy root vegetable from Earth that can quite literally be prepared with everything. Stryka is a little more delicate and soft thanks to being more porous, so care needs to be taken when storing and preparing it so it doesn''t get bruised or smashed accidentally. But, because it is soft and porous, it holds juices and flavors very well. When made into home fries it gets cut up and put into oil to pan fry with seasonings. It pulls in and absorbs the seasonings so that each individual fry practically explodes with it when eaten. As for Bacon... well." She stopped and smiled as she looked at the strips of meat a moment before turning back to him.


    "Bacon has always made our worlds go ''round. It is made from strips of pig meat, an old Earth farm animal that is easy to rear and slaughter. As I said, they are regulated off Earth, but they are a staple resource and can eat virtually anything. This makes them perfect for starting colonies on strange worlds. This particular batch of bacon was smoked with Roka Tree wood. One of the jams is made from the fruit of the same tree, so they should go well together."


    Ruufarrl stood as still as a statue in surprise, "You have put so much care and attention to detail into just a simple home meal, both today and yesterday. Please, there is no need to do such a thing for me. I do greatly appreciate the effort, but it is unnecessary. I am nobody special."


    She looked at him curiously a moment as she mentally tracked what he said, "There is no need for such humility. Food is one of the great Vices of Humanity. This is? a simple home meal. This is how we cook every day, everywhere. In fact, both the fajitas yesterday and this today are considered to be quick hot meals, ready in 30 minutes or less with the proper tools. Oh, I almost forgot. Here, I already prepared you a list of ingredients and compounds."


    Ruufarrl''s mind whirled at her words as he read the information she handed him, "I am never going to be able to go back to Galactic food again, am I?"


    Not even on Ruuloth did they eat in such a manner. They enjoyed smoked meats, to be sure, but that was more of a delicacy that took tremendous time and effort to prepare. The desire to put in research and discover new flavors simply wasn''t there for his people. For the Ruulothi and the majority of the GalCom, food was simply food, it was prepared quickly and with little thought behind it beyond basic nutritional need. Whether this was because of the prevalence of the Galactic Universal Diet or not would be a debate for scholars, if anyone cared to debate over it at all. Those few peoples that went beyond that often had things compounds in their food that no other race could eat. Their enhancements were a response to the conditions and either a way of supplementing something that lacked due to the compound in question, or for covering the bad taste of the offending compound. So these foods went unappreciated by the majority.


    From the list handed to him just now... there were no such issues.


    "In that case Matron Dianna, I accept graciously and will wait intently. I look forward to trying what you have made." She flashed him yet another smile, "Thank you, I will be out shortly. Please, have a seat with the others."


    Ruufarrl followed her instructions and moved to the large table that Conrad and Greg sat at, watching the Broadcast Terminal relay the news. He settled in and was drawn to the Broadcast himself, if only because he started picking up on the major differences between Human and GalCom standards of news.


    Currently, there was a female reporter on screen talking about potential trouble in bordering GalCom space. Her voice was measured and professional, showing no emotion.


    "On the far side of the Gulf, just in between both GalCom and Human space lies a habitable system whose ownership is currently being hotly contested. The Planet of Fildecl has found itself under dispute between the Chirleen and the Qazirxel?. The Chirleen are an omnivorous race of avian like creatures that live off the seas. The Qazirxel, though we have no recorded description, are also known to live off the seas and have tried to lay claim to the planet even though the Chirleen already have an establish colony planet side. A GalCom run Space Station has already been constructed at the Chirleen''s request as they are currently undergoing the signatory process.


    The Qazirxel appear to be more militant than the Chirleen and have made several threats to take the system by force. The Chirleen have entreated the Galactic Council to recognize their claim. However, per their policies, GalCom will not intervene in the conflict unless the last inhabited world of one of the sides becomes threatened. The Chirleen are known to have at least four Colonized Systems under their control. The territory of the Qazirxel is yet unknown as they are an enigmatic race that does not associate with others and have shown no interest in joining the Galactic Community and live on the fringes of GalCom space. They have a history of getting involved in similar disputes with non-signatories of the Galactic Accords.


    Leaders of the Sol Systems Alliance have indicated that they are keeping a watchful eye on the situation. They have dispatched a single battlegroup to patrol the region of the Gulf nearest the conflict and are ready to mobilize more military assets if needed. A spokesperson for the Bureau of Travel and Commerce has stated that there are no known humans or human organizations living or working in the Fildecl System. So no evacuations are necessary, but travel advisories have been put in place. Various other strategies are also being enacted to prevent the conflict from spilling over into Human Territory, if it should reach that point."


    "Her pronunciations were quite well done, and her information was quite accurate as well. I wonder what assets the humans have that allow them to find such information. I only knew of the system due to its classification and danger for shipping. You wouldn''t find nearly as much information presented in a GalNews broadcast and would need to be intimately familiar with the situation to even come close. We certainly would not hear from Leaders on their efforts to deal with such a situation. I think the most we would have seen was a Red Zone warning in up to date star maps."


    Ruufarrl growled softly as the reporter moved on to another topic about local fishing disputes. "Hmmm, a Red Zone system, but not one that we Ruulothi are likely be involved in."


    Conrad and Greg both looked at him before Greg spoke, "A Red Zone system? Is that like a conflict zone?"


    Ruufarrl nodded, "Yes, it is a classification that we use for systems that are actively under a dispute of some sort or that may involve risks to personnel or ships. Severe pirate problems, military conflicts, space anomalies, insurrections, and so on. It is an enter-at-your-own-risk classification."


    "And GalCom won''t step in at all?"


    "No, not for the denizens of the planet. Though they might do something if the Space Station was targeted, as it is their property and personnel that man it. But no species has been foolish enough to do so for a very long time."


    "Huh, I can''t imagine the SSA not getting involved if it was someone who wanted to ally with us. That just doesn''t make sense that you would willingly let someone who wants to work with you suffer."


    Ruufarrl''s whiskers twitched at this, "They... have their reasons."


    He saw Conrad nod to himself, likely remembering their lessons. Greg looked like he was going to say something more, but he was beaten by Dianna coming around the corner with platters of food.


    "Breakfast is ready! Conrad, could you get the rest please?" Conrad rose at her call, "Of course, mom." He left and returned quickly with the remaining platters.


    The breakfast was very satisfying. Ruufarrl found each component to be its own adventure. He tried a couple of things that were recommended to him by his hosts, each changing the tastes in new ways. But overall, he felt that the star of the food was as indicated earlier.


    Bacon simply could not be beaten.


    ___________________________________________________________


    -Conrad-


    It took everything that he had to not laugh at Ruufarrl. The old cat looked like he had gone to Heaven during breakfast. He even caught him looking disappointed that the meal was ending. It wasn''t anything that someone unfamiliar with the Ruulothi would have caught, but the slight reversal of his ears and flattening of his whiskers were obvious to Conrad now. He didn''t expect the bacon to be as big of a hit as it was, but he figured that it really could make people see the light.


    He would have to get him some jerky when they went to town. It wasn''t quite the same, but it should allow him to come down off his bacon high safely.


    The rest of the morning went by in a flash as they cleaned up and got ready for the day. There was a moment of levity as Ruufarrl was forced to use one of his mother''s hair dryers after taking a shower. He came out of it looking so fluffy that Conrad actually had to turn around and go back downstairs before he busted out in laughter at the two meter tall warrior cat that looked like a red and black puff ball.


    Thankfully Ruufarrl had gotten his fur under control by the time he came back downstairs. Though Conrad still had to exert an iron will to prevent from snickering at the memory.


    Conrad took the rest of the morning to show Ruufarrl around their property and familiarize him with it. He was especially interested in his mother''s garden and Greenhouse, and their butchering set up for hunting and farm animal slaughtering. His father hadn''t picked up any pigs or other meat animals this year thanks to Conrad being away, but he still hunted so the rooms and freezers at the back of the barn were still in good shape. He did find some strange marks on the trees out back and told his father about it, but otherwise all seemed to be normal.


    After they had a light lunch Conrad and Ruufarrl climbed into his Grav-truck and he drove them further up river to Santa-Anna, where Master Silva awaited.


    As the fields and farmhouses passed them by he filled Ruufarrl in on where they were going.


    "Sorry about the delay. Master Silva''s Dojo doesn''t open until regular school gets out. A lot of her students are local kids and their parents, so there is really no business for her in the mornings. We should be getting there right about the time the advanced class starts, so you should get to see some pretty good stuff being done. Her place is on the outskirts of the far side of town, so we should have the chance to stop anywhere you want on the way back. Did you have anything in mind?"


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "With so many options it is like trying to pick a single tree out of a forest. I think the best option would be something that could give my clan a way to better understand Humanity? Some sort of historical dissertation perhaps? If we wish for lasting friendly relations and mutual support, it would be best if we had something more solidly evident than my own simple observations."


    Conrad smiled at this, "Well it looks like we were both thinking along the same lines then. I was planning on stopping by a bookstore on the way back to pick up a translated text for you. I think we can work something out to find what you want. My mother said that most bookstores are now offering terminal files and translated versions of anything they can find. They can even translate and print it on the spot, you just have to wait a few minutes for it."


    "You still use physical copies of documents?"


    "Yeah, we do. It is still cheaper over all to print on paper than it is to create a tablet or handheld terminal with just that one volume on it. Not o mention less wasteful. People also use them as decorations of a sort, I believe you saw the bookshelves in the living room? So, it is mostly a personal preference thing. Even to this day some people claim there is nothing better than holding a physical printed book in your hands. The demand is still there, especially out on the fringes, so the stores still exist. I guess it also serves as a soft back-up of sorts in case of major mechanical or technological failure or electromagnetic disruptions."


    Ruufarrl looked out his window, seemingly deep in thought. Conrad saw his face and features shift as he mused over the information.


    "So these books are common among all human households? As is the way you prepare food and eat?"


    Conrad hesitated a moment as he tried to figure out the intended direction of the questions. "Yes. The food especially is how most people and families eat, there are exceptions both above and below that, but it is the general standard. As for the books, I would say about half of all families have a small personal library of some sort. Be it just a couple of book cases or a dedicated reading room. It is easier on the eyes too, you don''t have to strain as much as when you look at terminal screens all day."


    "This question may seem rude, so please do not feel as though you need to answer. How affluent is your family? I am seeing some strong differences in what is considered to be standards of living between our people, and among others in the GalCom."


    "If I had to hazard a guess that is probably due to the severe difference in how our communities and societies formed. We are what you would consider to be middle class. We aren''t especially affluent, so we can''t just simply go out and buy whatever. We have to work for everything that we get and have. But, we can still live comfortably, though we may need to adjust depending on outside factors and tough times. I can see how some of the things we do would appear to be extravagances to others.


    You mentioned during your lessons that your people don''t hold too much stock in extras beyond the practical. Has it always been like that?"


    "Not until we entered space. We had always been a warrior culture, so practicality and function was always prime amongst all other concerns. But we did once upon a time seek extraneous benefits. Once we joined the Galactic Community we settled into their standards, which are largely utilitarian and simple. I am wondering now what we may have done had we continued as we were without ever meeting the Community. We do not want now, but neither do we seek extra comforts. We simply live as we are."


    Unsure of how to respond, the silence grew until both were looking out the window and lost in their own thoughts.


    ____________________________________________________________


    "Just what kind of Traazol nest have I ripped open?" Ruufarrl stared out the window as the City of Santa-Anna started to get denser. A warning had toned on the center terminal of the vehicle, causing Conrad to bring the vehicle down to ground level, likely a local safety ordinance.


    "Is associating with Humans going to truly change anything? Will it create cultural growth, or will it create cultural collapse? How will we as a people react to knowing that the difference of living standards is so glaringly different? Will we seek to emulate it, or will we see it as a weakness of the soft and further estrange their species?  We still keep some comforts, those that require skill to work. Jewelers, smiths, tapestry makers. But this goes well beyond them, and this is just one Fringe Planet. I hope those histories that he spoke of will hold an answer that reflects in their favor."


    Conrad interrupted his line of thought as he started to say something and then fell silent again. He did this a few more times, and Ruufarrl recognized it as him trying to find the compatible wording or comparisons that did not rely on unknown phrases. It was a quirk of habit that amused him when he saw it.


    In the end, he said nothing, but Ruufarrl could still see him gnawing on the bone. He returned to looking out the window at the city. This was a much smaller affair than Cormorant had been. Few of its buildings reached for the skies and they seemed to follow a preplanned layout, standing in opposition to he pure chaos of the rapidly expanded Capital. It was a known issue for large and populous cities. As they grew they needed more space and fast, so they used different people and methods to plan the roadways, resulting in oddly shaped districts and roads. This city seemed to have avoided that by planning well in advance of their growth.


    The people here weren''t as colorful than those in the city. Their clothes were more muted and natural. "Worker''s clothes. Rugged, dependable and resistant. Or just professional." He added the last as he saw a collection of humans in suits entering a building. Again, he saw large natural parks mixed into the city. He would have to ask about those later. For now, he didn''t want to interrupt the youngblood''s paths of thought as he was still working on a response.


    Now that they were down on the ground level, Ruufarrl could see inside the buildings and see what they were offering. About half of those he saw appeared to be professional businesses, holding offices and meeting places. The others appeared to be shops of some kind. Many displayed clothes, jewelry, food, or some other item in their large forward windows as an advertisement. The most popular were the food stores of various types of both shopping and eating. There always seemed to be more vehicles and people around them.


    The buildings then started shifting into local residences with their much smaller windows and fences and tiny natural gardens. These then gave way to homes with small fields in front of and behind the building. These places had many young children out playing and chasing one another around.


    Finally, the buildings opened up again and Conrad brought the vehicle to a medium sized sprawling building. It had a large field out back that was lined with well managed trees and had a small parking lot filled with vehicles off to one side and a sign in front of the lot. Though he could not read the words, the silhouettes depicted were clashed in conflict, and he assumed it to be their destination.


    Conrad opened his door as he spoke, "Alright, we are here. Judging from the cars and the time, class should be underway. You ready?"


    Ruufarrl followed suit and nodded at him as he also started to exit, "I am."


    Conrad stopped as he got out and looked over the top of the truck at Ruufarrl. "You said your people live as they are?"


    Ruufarrl nodded at him. It seemed he had finally constituted what he wished to say. "That is the truth as I see it. We live as we are, as we are needed to be."


    Conrad breathed deep as he nodded, "Well, I guess there is the difference. You live as you are, and as you need to be for right then. We live for tomorrow, and for what we wish to be." He paused again as he looked at the building, "Right, here we go."


    Ruufarrl took a moment to follow, "Is that truly the difference between us? Such a simple shift in direction of thought. He is not wrong. Living for tomorrow is what I myself have started to do, what I have been encouraging others to do, and what has caused trouble for me. An entire race of people like that, and with more territory that any other two or three species combined?"


    Conrad waited for him at the door. With one final nod, he opened it and they went in.


    ______________________________________________________________


    The inside of the training school was open. There was a selection of seats along the right side as they walked in and a small half wall marking the edge of the sitting area. Beyond that was a long open section with a padded floor and walls and a wall sized mirror on the far end. Ruufarrl could see thick wooden spars running across the ceiling, likely there to prevent the need of supports that would interfere with the training area. along the walls to the side of the mirror were racks and bins of various weapons. The variety of weapons he saw from the brief glimpse he got was staggering.


    A class of thirteen students were working together on some sort of grappling techniques. Before they all stopped and stared at the newcomers, he saw them practicing throwing each other to the ground with a smooth movement of the hips and shoulders and gaining control of the thrown student. Some saw them walk in, while others caught them in the mirror. The class effectively halted as they all turned to take in the new arrivals. A woman about Dianna''s age with light brown hair pulled back into a tail stepped forward after they entered and spoke in Galactic Standard.


    "Class, these are the special guests that I talked about earlier. Most of you should remember Mr. Mclaughlin. Conrad, would you mind introducing us to your guest?"


    "Of course, Master Silva. Everyone, this is Ruufarrl. He is a Ruulothi Battlemaster and former Clan Head of the Night Manes."


    Ruufarrl stepped forward at his indicating gesture and gave a small bow. "It is my pleasure and Honor to be here at your Training Academy."


    He saw some small conversations amongst the students, all an older student speaking to a younger. "Ahh, it seems that not all of them have a full grasp of Galactic Standard. They are not yet integrated, so it is understandable."? Almost as though she was reading his mind, Master Silva nodded to the students, "I apologize, some of them are still learning GalStan. We on the Gulf Border learn it as a matter of course, but you will find that the farther away from that border you get the less likely your average citizen will know it. We do expect that to change, the longer we are in contact with the Community. But it will take time."


    "There is no need to apologize. Your diligence reflects well on you." She gave a slight smile at this and nodded her thanks before turning back to the class.


    "The more observant of you will notice that these two gentlemen are wearing similar accessories. That is because Mr. Mclaughlin here..." she paused and gave a wintry smile at Conrad, one that caused him to recoil slowly in anticipation. "Got himself involved in a very dangerous situation. Thankfully, his training here saved not only his life, but the lives of others on his ship. Because of that, he has been recognized and inducted into a Ruulothi custom by Master Ruufarrl, and will soon be on his way to Ruuloth Prime to meet with the current Night Mane Clan Head as a part of this custom.


    You would do well to remember that your actions reflect not only on yourselves out in space, but on humanity as a whole. If you think to use what you learn here to harm others, there will be a reckoning. But if you use it to help others, you will serve to further good relations among the people out there. A benefit which cannot be understated."


    She then spoke rapidly in another language, a different one from what he had overheard Greg and Dianna speaking to themselves. It had quick turnover with rolling words and seemed to be spoken mostly from the front of the mouth and tongue. He raised a questioning glance at Conrad and he leaned in to explain.


    "That is Spanish. Everyone on the Fringe knows three or four languages as their planets were intermingled communities when colonized. Most speak some form of English as it was a common trade language before we left our home system, that is what you heard mom and dad speaking. Nueva Rios is itself Spanish for "New Rivers", and it was named that by the original settlers. So Spanish is kind of the unofficial language here."


    "How many languages do humans have?" Conrad laughed softly at this, "Ooh, something like several hundred. That was before we left earth, and doesn''t even include new dialects from outlying worlds."


    Ruufarrl looked at him in shock before realizing that Master Silva had turned back to them and was waiting.


    "Ah, I am just now discovering that Humanity has a multitude of languages." He caught a couple of students smile or laugh softly to themselves at his pronouncement. They must have seen his look of surprise.


    Master Silva simply tipped her head in acknowledgement. "It is something of a boon and a curse upon us as well. Conrad, would you mind leading the class in Escrima drills while Master Ruufarrl and I talk? Oh, and keep it in GalStan please."


    "Of course Master Silva. Alright kiddos, everyone grab a stick!" The class broke into scattering bodies briefly before all converging on one of the bins in the back and reforming in lines with each student holding a stick at least as long as their lower legs.


    Master Silva gestured for Ruufarrl to follow and led him through a door next to the mirrors. the door led to a small hallway which turned into an office through another door to his right. He stopped in surprise as he entered. One wall of the office held a desk with a terminal, and was the backside of the mirrors. Everything in the training room was fully visible through the glass. He could see Conrad starting them with warm-ups to loosen their joints and wrists.


    Master Silva laughed at his reaction, "It keeps them honest. They never know when I am back here watching, so they are better at staying on task." She paused a moment before taking a breath and continuing.


    "I have... A lot of questions. I am sure as a leader yourself that you can understand my being protective of my pupils. I consider them all to be like my own children. So, when I heard that one my my students had not only gotten into trouble in Galactic space, but had killed to survive I was...concerned. I was a part of the integration test group that went to Galactic space and followed around different groups to test the waters on what we could contribute. Conrad''s acceptance as a loader was possible in part because of what we did there. It may have been some time ago, but I still have resources, and I know what GalCom policies and procedures are like."


    She reached out and touched a button on her terminal and it hummed to life, Ruufarrl found himself unprepared for the image that it showed. The security view of the cargo bay, showing Conrad just starting his fight with the Clantor Matron.


    "I understand that the fight was unavoidable. But it put Conrad in an incredibly difficult position. One which you seemed to be ready to take advantage of by immediately tapping him to be a Bloodclaw. Something that, by all accounts, your people have no interest in. So, why would you be so intent on dragging him into Intergalactic politics?"


    "This woman represents something much more than a mere teacher. She is testing me, searching my intent and standing. I wonder if the Youngblood knows the depths of her resources."


    "It was never my desire to involve him so deeply and so quickly, or possibly even at all. His acceptance as a Hunt Brother, a trusted representative of your race, was meant to be an offer not an ultimatum. But after the attack my path was forced. If I had done nothing, his involvement would have been twisted to create more tension between not only our races, but with the rest of the Community. He would have been made into a pariah and I... I would have been a fool to try and change the direction of the Hunt Winds by blowing into them. At the end of the tale, all I could do was acknowledge him as Bloodclaw to extend him the political protection of a representative of the Ruulothi. Though saying it that way is misleading, he absolutely earned his Mantle. It would have been a failure of my Honor, and that of the Ruulothi, if I had neglected to extend him that acknowledgement and protection after considering him for Hunt Brother in the first place. The young Ruulothi who died in the attack, he had grown close to Conrad. Trusted him even and shared his experiences with me. It showed me that perhaps there was a way past what had been put in place."


    Master Silva considered his answer for a moment. "Put into place. The Founders then."


    Ruufarrl froze. His hesitation was all the acknowledgement that Master Silva needed. She waved her hand around the office, "This is all Human built. There is no GalCom tech in here. You can speak freely."


    He had no reason to doubt her, and her comment about their tech lined up well with what Isaiah Davidson had said back at the shuttle port. Even so, he considered carefully for a moment. "There is always the chance that they are trying to cull me for acting against them. Could they have put something into place so quickly amongst a people that are not yet signatories? No, even for them it is practically impossible. Very well then. If there is to be a chance of a future free from control, then they must know everything."


    His mind made up, he nodded to her, "The Founding Seven. The conglomerate of Seven races that created the original Galactic Community, and who now run it in their own self-interests. Not for greed or power, but to ensure beyond any doubt that no matter what happens, they will be the ones to survive. The Founding originally happened due to an interstellar enemy that threatened to destroy them all piece by piece. They banded together to stop them, committing a genocide in the process and erasing their enemy from existence. Since then, they have expanded their influence while remaining in control. All other signatories live in their shadow to prevent them from ever threatening the Founders. They create the policies, they create the punishments, they control everything."


    He gave master Silva a pointed look, "Until now. Humanity scares them. You are too big, with too many resources and too many people. You are established, prepared and capable of violence. Your very appearance and existence shook them to their cores and undermined them. They got complacent and you stung them for it. They had said that the Expanse could not be traversed, and then you did. You started the conversation in such a way as to prevent them from altering the information and making you look like a threat. You took control away from them. So now they must keep you at arm''s length until they figure out how to wrest that control back. Conrad provided them with an opportunity, until I publicly announced his acceptance under Ruulothi customs. Had I not, they would have twisted that attack around to make it look as though he was Honorless and conniving, making the Ruulothi fight and die for him so that he may step in and take the accolades that were rightfully ours. An act that would have vilified your race to my own and boiled the blood of every Ruulothi in existence. Then, all they would have needed was the smallest of sparks to create a raging inferno that would have ended in a war that would have left humanity with but a single world to their name, and likely not even your home world?. Forever forced to pay for the damages the war created, the repairs they are forced to undertake of what was once your own infrastructure and colonies. Your people, for all their brightness and potential, would become nothing more than a footnote. A living warning of the cost of crossing the Founders.Giving them all of your territory, technology and resources to squabble over. Humanity would never be allowed another world again."


    He stopped and chuckled for a moment, "Well, they would have tried at least. I suspect from what I have seen of even your lighter patrol warships that such an act would have been... difficult, to say the least. This is how they remain in control. They only allow outsiders to join when they are sufficiently indebted to them to be unable to fight back. Warrior races are sent into wars of attrition to cull our numbers. Newcomers are left to fend for themselves until the Founders can step in to "save" them. The Clantor, Qazirxel and others are perfect tools for this. They create the opening the Founders need to step in. At the end of the tale, the other peoples of the galaxy are nothing more than a buffer against an outside threat to them. Little more than puppets."


    "So in a way, you not only saved Conrad, whom had earned your respect, but you prevented the attempted destruction of humanity. Why though? What is it to you if we survive or are ground under?"


    "With all that Humanity represents, with all that you are, first and foremost you are a beacon of what could be. Life under Founder control is life. It is measured and utilitarian, with little to no room for growth or change, and few even realize it. My people are suffering under the stagnation. Not in such a way as to lead to conflict, but we are forgetting who and what we are and were. Our leaders more and more become puppets of the Founders. Our first contact with your species? Hand selected representatives on both sides, meant to engender conflict and distrust. Open mouthed and opinionated on your side, hide bound and prideful traditionalists on ours. They never would have been able to see each other as equals or potential partners. As close interstellar neighbors, they needed us at odds to prevent a power shift.


    I sought to change that. My clan has always been proponents of change and growth, but my voice got too loud and drew too much attention. So I needed to be removed from power. I now serve as little more than eyes and ears for the clan, but my dream, our dream lives on. It is my hope that by creating a bridge between our people with Conrad, we can learn from and support one another against the mechanisms of the Founders. Again, I had no desire to force it upon him. He was merely the first that could have been accepted as such. But circumstances forced my efforts."


    He stopped as he watched the students. Conrad now had two knives and was spinning them in his hands in a show of dexterity and control. The other students seemed impressed at the display. A few moments later and he launched into another demonstration showing how to use the smaller weapons against the longer sticks the students carried. As he watched, Master Silva stepped up next to him.


    "He is one of my best students. Though I would never be able to say so to his face. I learned the hard way that doing so generally means that they stop pushing themselves to learn more, believing themselves to be at their pinnacle. When they stop learning, they stop putting in the effort, then they stop showing up altogether." She leaned over and pushed a button on the terminal and the image sprang to life, showing the entire attack in the few short seconds it actually took before looping back to the start and replaying again.


    "I never taught him half of that, he always had a flexible and quick mind. I still have no idea how the Hell he won. I don''t think even I could have. Honestly you could have put a million humans with training in the same position, and I don''t know if any could have pulled through. But somehow, he did. I guess that is the Fog of War for you."


    "He seems to leave a lasting impression wherever he goes. He is sure to grab some whiskers on Ruuloth."


    "About that." She leaned back and sat on the edge of her desk to face him, "What is that going to entail? Does this mean that he is going to need to stay permanently on Ruuloth as some sort of, Ward of the State?"


    "No. Once he is confirmed as a Bloodclaw, his options will open up. He will be free to do as he wishes after the ceremony. But it will be highly encouraged that he stay in the Hunt so that his influence and image among the Ruulothi can grow. I have been appointed his Mentor for the interim, so I will be with him for some time yet. If he chooses to, he can stay. But I believe it to be far more likely that he will be offered a place on a Ruulothi trade vessel in his current job capacity as a loader. This will allow him to meet and get familiar with other Ruulothi, Ruulothi customs and Hunt Brothers from other races in a controlled environment, well away from politicians and the Founders. The opinions of Ship Captains are valued as they hold a risky job and must maintain order at all costs. My word as a Sheathed Claw only goes but so far outside of my clan, regardless of my previous appointments. If an active Captain vouches for him, he would be well on his way to becoming a beacon for both our people."


    "Thank you for your direct honesty. May be so bold as to ask something more of you?"


    Ruufarrl tilted his head and flicked his ears in curiosity. "You may."


    She looked down at the floor a moment before looking back up, "Protect him. He is smart, skilled and strong and willing to help, but he can still be a bit na?ve, especially to the ways of interstellar communities. Don''t let them take him without a fight."


    Ruufarrl looked at her in a new light, understanding now what she had meant earlier when she claimed to see all her students as her children. He gave her a short bow, "As though he were my own cub."


    __________________________________________________________


    -Silva-


    After their meeting they headed back out into the class, where she promptly showed the students how their throws from earlier worked with sticks. Using Conrad as her testing dummy, of course. She got a laugh out of his look of terror when she called him up, "He couldn''t possibly think he was going to get away with worrying me like that without having <u>some</u>? bruises to show for it, did he?" The big Ruulothi seemed to enjoy the display as well, though she felt it was more for seeing the techniques. "Once a warrior, always a warrior. Don''t I know it."


    ?At the end of the class she allowed the kids a question and answer session. She knew they were only just barely containing themselves through the class, and they likely would have revolted or something if she hadn''t let them loose. She let the barrage of questions for both of their visitors run over their time limit as the arriving parents of the younger students seemed to be just as interested in the display as their children were. They all talked excitedly about the pair of visitors as they got ready to leave.


    After the students had left she gave Conrad a hug and told him to stay safe and to visit again before he left the planet, and gave Ruufarrl a proper bow of her own as they left and thanked him for coming to meet her.


    Finally alone she locked her door, and sighed. "I thought I was done with this mess, and NOW we have a whole lot more riding on it. Boy, I swear you are going to be the death of me."


    She returned to her office and watched the video play out again, fighting back tears as she thought about the implications, what may have been and what will likely come to pass. Finally, she stopped the video and got herself under control.


    She brought up her terminal recording program and messaging program. She felt a little bad about recording her conversation with Ruufarrl. He had definitely been completely honest with her and was true to his desires for both a better future and the protection of Conrad. "But, needs are what they are. All people require proof, and this just might tip future things in your favor Battlemaster. You protect him from his side, and I will do my part."


    ?Finally squared way mentally, she attached the video of the attack and her recorded meeting to the VIM, and began to speak.

 Chapter 9

    -Ruufarrl-


    Conrad was looking intently out the window of his truck, trying to determine where he was. He claimed to know that he was close, but the landmarks he had used before were apparently missing. So now he was using the central terminal to give him directions, and it had not been updated since before he left for his tour on ship.


    ''Turn left, now.''


    "No, that will just take us in a circle. OK. Time to turn you off." He jabbed at a button on the console and the monotone voice shut off in the middle of telling him he had missed his turn.


    "Alright think. The park is gone, the billboard is gone, and I think the traffic pattern has changed too. Can''t get there from here, so... into town we go."


    His mind made up and his confidence returned, Conrad steered the truck down the streets of Santa-Anna. As much as he wanted to help, Ruufarrl was in no position to do so. He was on a completely alien planet in the middle of a city built by a people he only barely understood. He would be of no use to anyone here.


    A few minutes later and Conrad chirped in triumph, he had found the place he was looking for. He pulled to the side of the road where some markings indicated a place to park. "Odd that they would use the road itself as a parking place. It leaves little room for error."


    Despite his personal reservations, the parking spot, and the road width both proved to be adequate. Ruufarrl drew the usual stares from passerby, but no one approached or pointed. "You mentioned that a park was gone, are they common? I have seen a few of them while we were travelling. What purpose do they serve?"


    "Oh, they can serve a few purposes. Humans in general tend to feel calmer if they are around plants and such, that is why we garden and have plants that we tend to in our homes, and small hydroponic gardens on spaceships so that sailors can visit from time to time. The city parks allow folks living where they can''t see trees, or who don''t have the time to make the trip outside the city limits to visit and take it in. They also serve as places to walk, play, meet and other things. They are pretty common, and some of the large ones are almost works of art."


    "Then why not change your city layouts to include more space between places?"


    "Ehh, convenience and efficiency, I guess? I think there was one colony sometime past that tried that, Gaia I think it was called. In the end it just didn''t work, and increased the cities footprint by almost four times, destroying the majority of the forests they had intended to protect. It is just easier to cram everything into one small space. I think that is why we have skyscrapers too. More metric space in a smaller footprint. Here we are."


    "Well that certainly explains a few things. Lead on."


    The store that they entered smelled of hot chemical ink and paper, both old and new. It looked small on the outside, but apparently took up what looked to be three separate units from the outside, so it was quite spacious. Lines of racks marched through the store with signs indicating... something, and each rack was simply covered with parchment books. Ruufarrl felt like he had walked into the Grand library back on Ruuloth Prime. Scattered throughout the store were other customers browsing the shelves. "So many books, I cannot believe that this is just something they have."


    "These are all for purchase?"


    "Yep, every last one. Here, lets browse a bit first before I pick up what I ordered. You were looking for things like History and Military stuff, right?"


    "I feel that would be a good place to start, yes. It is what my people look to the most when assessing new people."


    "Alright, so let¡¯s see... Non-fiction and historical is... Ah, over there."


    He followed Conrad to the indicated section. He heard someone start in the distance, and was easily able to look over the racks of books to see a person that he assumed to be the proprietor standing behind a counter and watching him. He watched Ruufarrl moved about the racks with Conrad before shaking himself and leaving his post, heading their way.


    Conrad did not notice and was busy thumbing through the spines of the books, head bent sideways as he read the titles. "Oh! These look good." He pulled out a set of three matching tomes, each with a slight variation of the same wording printed on them. Great Battles of History, Volumes one, two and three. Looks like they go from ancient history with one, to pre-jump with two, to modern battles with three."


    He held them up for Ruufarrl to sift through as the proprietor came around a corner, "Any of those interest you?"


    "It would if I could read them, Youngblood."


    "Ahhh, don''t you worry about that, good sirs. We can translate them to GalStan in but a few minutes. Every book we have here has been scanned into our system as an electronic file and is ready to be downloaded or printed in another language at your discretion. In fact," the older human with a bald head pointed at a terminal a few rows down, "You can use that terminal there to look up your selections and read a preview. Is there anything that I might be able to help you find?"


    Conrad tilted his head at Ruufarrl, giving him the floor. "I am looking for things that are related to the history or your species. Basic histories, military conquests and similar concepts. Perhaps something on military traditions as well?"


    The old man nodded as he listened, and then Conrad spoke up as he saw the man''s nametag, "You are Mr. Keaton? I believe I spoke to you yesterday about a translated copy of The Art of War? Did you happen to have that finished? It is also for him."


    "Ahhh, yes. Mr. Mclaughlin was it? I do indeed, and if that is something for your list... Hmm. Come with me, and I will flag a few selections for you in the terminal."


    Mr. Keaton led them over to the indicated terminal and started to tap on it, directing the program to hold a number of books for preview. All told he had pulled up ten books of various topics for them to have a look at.


    "Alright, I will go over these with you briefly before I leave you to choose. First up we have the three that Mr. Mclaughlin selected earlier. Then we have Modern Military History, which includes a dissertation on the creation of the Titan Accords, which is our established rules of War and Engagement. Then we have Ground Combat Equipment, updated to last year. Military Spacecraft of the SSA, updated to this year''s edition. A Primer on the General History of Humanity, looks like someone thought along the same lines as you have and wanted to be ready to meet aliens. Finally, a couple of special picks just for you sir, as I have heard a little bit about your people. Bushido and the Ancient Samurai, a book on the codes and history of an ancient sect of human warriors known for a stringent sense of honor and Great Hunts in Space, an in depth list of all the dangerous and challenging hunts on human planets.


    Gentlemen, I hope you enjoy. Mr. Mclaughlin, I will have your other book ready for you at the counter."


    "Thank you, sir. It... may be a bit." Conrad shrugged with one arm out towards the terminal. Mr. Keaton laughed, "All the better. Enjoy."


    Ruufarrl stepped forward to scan through the books. He already planned on buying the three-part series and Primer, so he added them to his keep list and skipped over them to focus on the others. Curious, he started with the book on spacecraft, and found himself aghast at the information it contained. "What species in their right minds would put this information down for general knowledge? It is as though they are asking for someone to cause trouble!" He turned to the last indicated preview page, an indexed list of the contents. He saw the Athena class marked there, the ship he had seen on the way into the system. Shaking his head in wonder and astonishment, he added it to the list of books to keep.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    The book on ground equipment was the same way. Loads upon loads of pictures and information that explained their capabilities and specialized roles on the battlefield. This, too he marked to keep. He thought for a moment then quickly added the book that had their rules of engagement. "Why would they allow someone to access that information? To what end? Sharing that only lets someone take advantage of your own rules."


    Finally, he decided to simply break the branch and added the others to the list as well, he would be buying all of them. He felt, strange, jittery. He was excited. This was a treasure trove of information, if any of it was to be believed and not simply well placed misinformation. But he didn''t feel as though it was. He didn''t think that Conrad would intentionally lead him astray in such a manner. Even so, he struggled to think of a plausible reason for it.


    "Conrad, anyone can... just... get this information? Whatever and whenever they wish?"


    "Well, yeah. They don''t tell you anything classified or secret, the real cutting edge and sensitive stuff is always left out. I mean, it isn''t like someone can''t take a picture of something in the field. If it is in use, you can get at least some information on it. Even the classified stuff we can guess at because scientific journals are always talking about the applications of the next great technological advance. We don''t really keep our history secret either. We just, don''t think to hand out an encyclopedia on it to everyone we meet. If you want to know something specific, all you really need to do is ask. Someone, somewhere has probably written something on the subject."


    Ruufarrl was dumbfounded, "All we needed to do... Was ask. All these problems, all this misplaced anger, worry and concern; and all we had to do... Was ask. By the ancestors, we have been complete fools."


    Then another thought struck him, one that chilled his blood. "They aren''t simply handing out free information to get attacked. They are actively <u>DARING</u>? someone to try. They are telling anyone who has this information, ''<u>This </u>is what we have. <u>This </u>is how we will protect our people. <u>This </u>is how we will fight. <u>This </u>is how we will destroy you. We are not scared of you. If you still think you have what it takes, you are welcome to try.''"?


    Spurred on by this sudden thought, he quickly returned to the book on ships, looking for the introduction section. He skimmed until he found what he was looking for, and his ears went flat. "They have THAT many ships! That is nearly <u>four times</u> the size of our own war fleet, AND from the rest of the specs they look to be at least equally capable, if not more so. I hope to the Great Hunt that this gamble works. The Founders are going to be in for a <u>very </u>rude awakening when they open this Traazol nest. Depending on just how capable they are, the Humans may well be on equal footing to <u>everything</u> the Founders can throw at them."


    He paused a moment to breathe and let the logical part of his mind catch up, "Ruushan needs this information, if only to produce at the appropriate time to prevent a catastrophe."


    He closed down the terminal after confirming his desired purchase. He decided to get the books in both electronic and physical formats. Seeing the opportunity, he decided it would be well worth the extra expense to collect a few books of his own. He found that he was rather enjoying the smell of paper for the moment. He wouldn''t be able to cart them around with him all the time, but it would mean that he could leave the physical copies behind on Ruuloth for Ruushan and the others to read, and they would add a small bit of luxury to his old office.


    He wandered over to the counter to pay, leaving Conrad to continue his own searches.


    Mr. Keaton looked over his order and whistled, something that no Ruulothi could do. "Well, thank you very much for your patronage, Sir. I can get those transferred right over to your wristlink if you are ready for the electronic copies."


    Ruufarrl brought his arm terminal up to the data transfer relay, "Thank you for your recommendations. They have already proven to be quite surprising. Are you certain that the information contained is accurate?"


    "Well sir, I don''t sell tabloids or opinion pieces. Anything you find in those books is about as accurate as a thing could be. The specifications are pulled from declassified official documents. The histories are as accurate as one can get digging around in the past. Come about the start of the space age everything we did was recorded in multiples, even before that we kept a fairly decent record of events, though it may have been colored by a general lack of advanced knowledge. Magic versus Science and all that. Heck even ancient records of important events were pretty well recorded, by the victors at least. About the only thing I can''t truly vouch for is the book on Hunts, and that is simply because I know jack all about hunting. The Primer might paint us in a more favorable light, but it at least sticks to verifiable facts. Besides, that is what you have the other history books for. The real interesting and gritty stuff can be found in them."


    There was soft beep at the transfer relay. "Welp, looks like your electronic copies are all set up. While I am at it, here you go." He reached under the counter and pulled out a book printed in GalStan. "This is the book the boy was talking about earlier, he paid on order. This is still required reading by our military officers, even though it is something like almost four thousand years old. Some things, well, some things just stand the test of time."


    Ruufarrl smiled in response, "That is truth. How long for the physical copies to be finished?"


    "Well, that is going to take a few minutes. I will come find you when it is done. We got a few reading nooks scattered about, might as well dig in while you wait, eh? Unless of course you want to continue looking. I certainly won''t say no to that either." The old man smiled coyly as he said the last part, turning it into a jest and handing him a stiff paper strip, "For holding your place sir."


    Ruufarrl chuffed in turn and took the offered item, "I will find a place and start reading then."


    He wandered the shop for a few minutes to look at the sights before picking a place. Some of the paper signage on the walls showed depictions of characters from what must have been a story of some sort, while others showed real people in what couldn''t possibly have been a real situation. He had no idea how a human could shoot fire and lightning from their hands while flying through the air. He decided to let it be, this was a place that sold books and stories after all. Pictures were just other ways of telling stories, be they made up or factual.


    His wanderings came to a close after he found a secluded nook in the back corner of the shop. It was surrounded by racks of books, which would interfere with and deter strangers from finding him. He had seen a few of the customers looking at him curiously, but they had respected his space and left him to browse on his own.  Satisfied with his choice, he sat down and began to read The Art of War.


    He got so absorbed in reading that the twenty minutes it took for his order to print and Mr. Keaton to find him went by without his realizing. It was only with a great reluctance that he used his paper strip to mark his position within the book. "This book alone would send waves through the Clan Council. Even with the little bit that I have read, the conclusion is clear. Without a doubt, they are a warrior species. No people could write such a dissertation on war without being intimately familiar with it, without having experienced it in all its bloody glory and terror. Even to this day the information can be subtly altered to be completely relevant again, and it is easily applicable to all levels of combat. This book does not simply instruct in the methods of war, it dissects it, analyzes it, and puts it back together in a way that even a fool could understand. This is what I needed. Now, we see if I can add to its influence."


    He slowly followed the old man through the winding racks of books to the counter, where Conrad stood waiting. "Well, what do you think?"


    Ruufarrl smiled slowly, still trailing his thoughts, "I think I am going to be busy for some time."


    Conrad started to say something else, but was interrupted by Mr. Keaton bringing all ten of the books that Ruufarrl had asked for. He blinked in surprise as he did a double take. "I can see why now."


    Mr. Keaton gathered the items into a bag and handed it to Ruufarrl. "Once again, thank you for your business. Please stop by again if you have any questions or need to find something else. It''s always a pleasure to see new faces, and I hope these choices stand you in good stead."


    He couldn''t be sure of it, but he felt that the old man may have putting some deeper observations behind his words. Something in his tone and the way he looked at Ruufarrl pointedly. It continued to nibble at his mind as Conrad drove them out of the city and back to his home, so he decided to ask about what it dredged up. It was something he should have done long before, and he mentally clawed at himself for forgetting it.


    "Conrad, how much do your people know of mine?"


    He tilted his head as he considered the question, "Well I can''t speak to the experts and such, but most common folk at least know OF the Ruulothi. Actually, I think our first contact with you all is taught in schools. If only as a lesson in what not to do, considering the results. I''d have to say that your people are kind of... I dunno, romanticized maybe? Space Warriors with unshakeable honor and all that. The kind of people that we would want on our side. The general populace doesn''t know too much in the way of specifics. But we know what happened, we know how you feel about us, and we are plenty capable of making certain connections when one of you suddenly shows up planet side and starts buying up history books." He stopped and looked at Ruufarrl with a grin, "Old man''s words eating at you?"


    He shook his head slowly, a slight smile on his face, "I was never one for the work of a Hidden Claw. I suppose my excitement got the better of me. Even so, I should have acquitted myself better and with more decorum and tact. I was a Clan Head after all. I should not be so obvious."


    "Nah, it has nothing to do with that. You are a giant warrior cat on a planet full of hyperactive grease monkeys, you are going to be obvious to anyone with eyes. Regardless of the status of current relations, we both respect and are enamored of your people. My guess is that he saw the chance to make a mark on things, however small, in the hopes that we can find a way to come to terms with one another. What better way than sharing our history and standards of warfare with you? The things that you can relate to the most?"


    "Hmm, perhaps. And what exactly is a grease monkey?"


    "Ahh Ha. It is an expression for someone who is mechanically skilled, hence being covered in mechanical grease. It also references our own resemblance to a creature on earth."


    He looked at Conrad with his eyes narrowed and ears forward a moment before chuffing in amusement and turning back to the window. "At least they don''t hold themselves exempt from their silly little comparisons."


    The rest of the trip back was uneventful and quiet, affording him the chance to read a little more. As they arrived Greg came out to meet them.


    "Conrad! Good! You are back earlier than I thought you would be. There was an Infernum that moved in up on Engleman Farms. Those marks you found? They are from Hellboar. I''ve already called Wildlife Management, but they are busy tracking down and hunting the big pack and won''t be able to get here for at least another week. So it''s up to us. Grab your stuff and lets get going. I don''t want to be out there at night with those things."


    "Alright, is it all in the same place?"


    "Yep, back of the barn. I''ll get my stuff and the bait we just made and meet you on the path."


    Ruufarrl watched their interactions as he listened. At the tone of Greg''s voice and the intent in his posture he knew something was wrong and had left his purchases in the vehicle to be ready to move.


    Greg turned to go back inside as Conrad turned to him, "So, interested in going on a dangerous hunt?"

 Chapter 10

    ?-Ruufarrl-


    Ruufarrl gave a deep smile that showed fangs, "A dangerous hunt is it? But of course. What are these... Hellboar?"


    "Come with me and I will explain."


    Conrad led them to the back of the barn, where a number of sealed storage units were kept. As he unlocked them and pulled items out, he gave Ruufarrl the information he needed.


    "Wild Boar are a type of feral pig from Earth that eat dropped fruits, grubs and fungi. Riosian Ridgebacks are a local animal that is armored and uses ankle spurs to dig up and eat roots, shoots, grubs and bark from trees, loose earth and rotting logs. Hellboar are a hybrid animal of Wild Boar and Riosian Ridgebacks. Back when the colony was first founded some idiot named Frederick Rogers brought boar with him as his "farm animal of choice", getting them by the checkers who didn''t know any better and simply saw them as pigs. He didn''t take enough precautions and they did as boar do and broke free.


    Wild pigs breed quickly, are territorial, destructive and tenacious. But to make matters worse, he''d had them genetically modified to be more resilient overall and resistant to disease in order to better survive in this new environment. When they got loose here, they scattered and multiplied. Somewhere in that mix, the impossible happened, and they somehow bred with Riosian Ridgebacks. We still aren''t quite sure how exactly that happened, but the resulting demonspawn were a combination of the worst attributes from both parents. They had the feral pig''s bad attitudes and aggression, with the Ridgeback''s natural protections and spurs. Hellboar are larger than Ridgebacks, and slightly smaller than feral pigs. They can get to around one and a half meters in length, half a meter in height and weigh in at around 100 kilos. They have boney plates that run from their foreheads down their backs, have sharp tusks and bone spurs on their ankles. If you are going to hunt them, then you need to be sure to kill in the first hit, because they will continue to try and kill you even after receiving a mortal injury. They have no fear, no natural predators and no regard for their own safety. We consider them to be an invasive hybrid, and they are classified as a Kill On Sight animal."


    He had laid out the equipment as he continued. Ruufarrl was surprised at what he saw. Armored leg, forearm, body and groin coverings, lethal looking spears with catch guards and knives designed for stabbing, a couple canisters of some sort of spray, camouflage netting, and rope. "And the bait and whatever else Greg is getting. This is not a traditional hunt. This is not simply for food or for sport, this is an extermination. The rules are different here."


    Conrad pointed out the various pieces. "I don''t know if we have anything that will fit you for armor, but these things will go straight for your legs and try to cut your tendons or rip into major arteries using their tusks and spurs. If they get you down they will try and gut you or rip your face and neck out. The spears are meant to dig in and stop them from a dead charge, the prongs make sure they can''t just run up the spear to get you. The knives are for putting them down once wounded and pinned by a spear. Best place is just behind and under the shoulder blade, straight to the heart. Those are neutralizer spray, kills our scent, the netting is to hide while we wait, and rope is for bringing the carcasses back."


    He turned and smiled at Ruufarrl, "The things we do for Bacon."


    He cocked his head and nodded at this, "You still eat them? Good, it is better not to waste."


    Conrad smiled and shrugged, "So do you want to try any of the armor? We have four sets; I am sure we can cobble together something functional."


    "As useful as that sounds, it would be better if I did not. My footwear is already reinforced to an extent, and I would rather not have sudden restrictions to my movement if I should have need."


    "Alright, that sounds fair. Just, uhh. If it looks like things are going south, climb a tree. They can''t get you there, though they will try and wait you out. Mom knows what is going on, if we don''t call her and aren''t back before dark she will send out a rescue party."


    "Understood, does this happen often?"


    "Often enough. People underestimate these things all the time. Oh, I forgot. Hellboar run in groups of twenty to a hundred that we call an Infernum. Any bigger than that and they start fighting amongst themselves for resources and start splitting off in small groups. They also split off when confronted and chased. We shouldn''t be facing anymore than maybe four at the most. We only saw a couple of marks, so I am thinking a mated pair that split from the group up north and are trying to find a place to settle in."


    A voice sounded out from behind them, "Yeah, that was my estimation too."


    Greg walked into the room carrying a bucket of bright fruits that had been mashed and mixed with something else and a long case over his shoulder. Ruufarrl furrowed his brow as he sniffed, "Ethanol!? Do you think to get them intoxicated?"


    Greg laughed at this, "Not quite, it is a pungent and strong aroma, one that carries well and helps to cover our own scents. But I wouldn''t mind if they just tipped over and passed out. It would certainly make our job much easier."


    He turned to look at Conrad, "You ready, bud?"


    "Yep, let''s get suited up."


    Ruufarrl stood aside as they got ready. After they had put on their armor and stowed their other items in bags Conrad issued him a spear and a knife that got clipped to his belt. They both felt odd to him. They were clearly made for another species, and he didn''t feel like he could use them to their greatest effect thanks to the differences between Human and Ruulothi range of movement. But it was still good to hold a weapon again. Both of the humans clipped their knives to their belts, and Conrad picked up the two remaining spears as Greg opened his case.


    Inside was a rifle the likes of which Ruufarrl had never seen, though it reminded him in shape and form of the weapons the Veteran Guard had carried. It had a small, rounded tube mounted on top that he suspected was some kind of optic, a comfortable looking stock and a modular system that the Optic and an angled hand grip was mounted to. Greg pushed a button and Ruufarrl could both hear the whine of it powering up and feel a static charge collect in the air around him. Greg checked a removeable cartridge for ammunition and nodded to himself before placing it back in the weapon, "Yup, shredders are still in there. Alright, lets get sprayed down and on the move."


    They walked outside with their gear and Conrad held up one of the canisters, "Hold your breath and close your eyes when it''s your turn."


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    He then sprayed down Greg with the canister and was in turn sprayed by his father. Ruufarrl did not at first fully understand the reasoning for it, Conrad had said it was neutralizing spray, but...


    Suddenly his nose rebelled, and he recoiled as he snorted, trying desperately to clear his nostrils. "What... in the Fields... Between... was THAT!" he managed to croak out in between sneezes and coughs.


    Conrad looked to be frozen at the crossroads between horror and hilarity, while Greg just looked on blankly holding the canister. Ruufarrl finally got the sniffles of his offended nose under control and shook himself. "How exactly does that make you harder to smell?"


    Conrad looked to try and say something, but Greg spoke first. "Well, can you smell us now?"


    Ruufarrl narrowed his eyes at him and started to spit out a retort, but then realized that the scent he had grown accustomed to being around so much lately had faded into the background. So much so that it was hard for him to distinguish it from the overpowering citrus and ethanol smell. He tilted his head, "Scarcely at all now."


    Greg nodded knowingly, "You have to let it settle first. We aren''t as sensitive to it, so it doesn''t get to us as badly. Now, I hate to push this considering your reaction just now, but we need to spray you down as well. I have a suspicion that the way you smell is going to be setting off all kinds of alarm bells with the Boar. I guess, hold your breath?"


    Ruufarrl grumped, but nodded and plugged his nose. It was basic hunting technique, cover your scent or pick your approach. They couldn''t do the latter as they had to wait the prey out, so the former it was.


    After the deed was done Greg put a cap on the bucket, turned and led them into the woods, "Alright, lets go bag us some piggies."


    ______________________________________________________________________________


    -Conrad-


    Conrad was a little nervous. This wasn''t the first time that he had gone hunting for Hellboar, but it was the first time he had hunted only a couple of pigs and done it with so few people. Usually it was a large group effort coordinated by Wildlife Management to stop as many as they could from escaping a culling. But once the Infernum was destroyed, the Wildlife guys handled the rest.


    "It''s also the first time I have hunted with a Ruulothi. Kind of a big deal. If I embarrass myself here..."


    He shook himself and focused, having his head in the clouds on a hunt was the quickest way to getting embarrassed, or injured... or killed.


    It didn''t take them long to find the place that the marks had been rubbed and cut into the trees, but this was the edges of the territory that was being claimed, if they wanted to find the boar with any sort of urgency, they were going to need to head deeper into the woods, beyond the obvious trails and their human scents.


    This took a little more time. First, they needed to know they were in the right spot, so they had to find other rubs and digs. Once that had been done, they needed to find a suitable space to set up. A small section of the woods had a denser canopy, and thereby less undergrowth which allowed them to see if something approached.


    They kept the bait covered until they had cleared out enough space for a blind and set up the camo netting. They also sprayed the netting with the neutralizer, just in case it had picked up any odd scents from storage.


    Once everything was set up, Conrad took the bait out to a spot that gave his father a clear shot and dumped it out onto the ground. He quickly resealed the bucket and ran back to the blind, not wanting to be caught in the open if the animals were in the vicinity.


    He and Ruufarrl stood ready with spears. Standard practice when hunting small groups of Hellboar was to have the shooter take the opening shot, hopefully outright killing their target. The boar would react violently and charge the threat, which meant it was up to the spearmen to step clear of the blind and keep the charging Hellboar off the shooter, buying them time to make a second shot or transition to a spear themselves.


    It would have been far better if they had time to set up tree stands, but they did not have immediate access to any portable ones. The ground blind was going to have to do.


    "Alright, everything is set up. So now for the fun part, waiting."?


    Conrad stole periodic glances at his companions as they waited. They all had the will to remain still and silent, but where his father was more of a classically alert still and silent, occasionally turning his head to check areas outside of his range of vision, Ruufarrl was as still as a statue with his eyes half closed and chin down towards his chest. The only movement Conrad could see was an odd rotation of his ears and a twitch of his whiskers.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dare to say that he isn¡¯t paying attention though. He can likely hear and sense things that we can¡¯t. What was it they say? Eliminate a sense to better use the others?¡±


    He mentally reconciled himself and set himself to the wait. It was a chore, but thankfully not a terribly long one. They only had to wait about an hour before Ruufarrl looked up and became actively alert, indicating off to his left with his chin. A few moments later, and they could hear something rustling through the brush.


    The boar didn¡¯t come straight for the food though, they were smarter than that. They tramped about at the edges of the grove, sniffing about and looking around. They didn¡¯t try to circumvent it, so the hunters went unnoticed, but they remained cautious. Eventually though, their hunger drove them to take the risk.


    First one, then two of the squat hybrids nosed into view from between a pair of bushes. One male and one female, the male easily identified by having a double set of tusks as opposed to the single set of the female.


    Despite their hunger and interest, they still approached cautiously, almost as though they thought this windfall was too good to be true. As they approached, the brush rustled again and a third pig, another female stepped out. This one didn¡¯t seem to care about how risky the food source was, and walked straight up to it and nuzzled in.


    This seemed to indicate a signal to the others, and they dropped their wariness as they too dove into the food pile, with the male being the closest to the hidden trio.


    Conrad saw his father shift as he leaned into the rifle¡¯s stock to line up the shot. Conrad forced himself to relax, so that he could move quicker as soon as the shot went out. In a spur of the moment thought, he motioned for Ruufarrl to cover his ears. Rail-rifles weren¡¯t particularly loud, in fact they were safe enough to not need standard ear protections, but he wasn¡¯t sure how the Ruulothi¡¯s more sensitive ears would take the supersonic crack of the round being fired.


    Ruufarrl seemed to understand and covered his ears just in time.


    VVVVSSSTTT-CRACK!


    His father¡¯s rail-rifle spat out its deadly payload. The round left a faint trail of ionized particles as the remnants of magnetic surge used to launch it dissipated in flight. The round struck true, right behind the shoulder blade, and tore apart after penetrating, sending shards of the round out to ricochet through the Hellboar¡¯s chest cavity, killing it instantly.


    The male Hellboar stiffened and toppled, and then all hell broke loose.


    The two females let out a squeal of fright and anger, darting away from the now dead sire before both vectoring in on the direction that the gunshot had come from, determined to bring the threat to a violent end.


    Conrad and Ruufarrl stepped out of the blind and set their spears to receive them. This would be the tricky part. If either one of them missed their shot, they would get gored. But they had gone over the technique on the trail here, and where Conrad had done this before, Ruufarrl was a veteran hunter and a quick study.


    Conrad¡¯s target tried to juke him, but he was still relaxed and was ready for it. He shifted the spearpoint and waited until it lowered its head, then guided the spear in. He leaned into the impact, driving the spear home into the soft side of the boar¡¯s neck, where the hollow of the collarbone would be on a human. He absorbed the impact as the tough but flexible metal shaft of the spear arced with the force of the impact, using his legs and arms as shock absorbers and letting his weight drop with his lean to prevent himself from toppling and prevent the back of the spear from skittering across the ground. After the impact the spear began to return to form and he wrenched the spearpoint down as he pushed up with his legs, driving the boar into the ground on its side and keeping it pinned there with his weight.


    The boar¡¯s struggles only made the wound worse, and the catch bars prevented it from getting free. He had struck vitals, and blood flowed freely, but it was going to take extra time for the boar to die, and every moment it was conscious and fighting was one that he had to focus on. Any slip, any reduction in the pinning weight would result in the boar getting free and attacking again.


    He stole a quick glance at Ruufarrl and saw that he had his own boar well in hand. He appeared to have actually faded back as the boar came in and caught it in the throat with a rising spear thrust. He had it on its back and gurgling, the fight leaving his quarry faster than it was Conrad¡¯s due to the compounded extra damage he had dealt it.


    ¡°Guess that is the difference between familiarity and raw experience. I have no idea what I was worried about.¡±


    Conrad¡¯s vision was suddenly blocked as his father stepped between them with his own spear. He jammed it down into Conrad¡¯s boar, striking it through the heart and lungs, taking the fight out of it as it quickly died. He then turned and finished Ruufarrl¡¯s off in the same manner, after making sure he had permission to do so.


    Conrad smiled, ¡°Never steal another hunter¡¯s kill. This isn¡¯t that kind of hunt, to Humans at least. But there is no telling if Ruufarrl wouldn¡¯t have considered it an insult to his own prowess and skills. Glad that Dad was thinking about that.¡±


    All told, the entire encounter, from shot to final breath, had lasted for maybe twenty seconds. They took stock of themselves and their gear. None of them had been injured, nothing had been broken, and all the hellboars had been killed.


    A successful hunt, by any definition that mattered with these creatures.


    At his father¡¯s direction they began to prep the boar for transport. Using the rope, they tied a boar to two of the spears to be picked up and carried out of the woods. The others they tied up to hang from a tree. Between the three of them, they should be able to carry the boar out along with the rest of the gear and return with a sled to get the other two.


    This was a technique that they used to prevent other wildlife from destroying everything while they were gone. If something showed up while they were out and did somehow manage to get the hanging pigs from the tree, they would at least have been able to salvage one of the pigs.


    As they were putting the final knots on the pig they were to be taking back with them, Ruufarrl suddenly whipped around and growled a warning.


    Conrad turned to follow his gaze, and found himself in the crosshairs of another male Hellboar in full charge out of the brush.

 Chapter 11

    -Conrad-


    The Hellboar closed the gap between them in but a few short moments, leaving Conrad with no time to process. He only had instinct and reflexes to rely on.


    Thankfully, both of those continued served him well.


    Even caught flatfooted Conrad was able to instinctively gauge the timing required to avoid his attacker. His muscles twitched in response while his mind continued to disjointedly catch up to the matters at hand. His body shifted to load his weight on one foot to pull the boars'' attention to that side, then launched himself in the opposite direction at the last possible moment. The boar tried to catch him with an upswing of its head, but he had gotten out of the way just in time.


    The Hellboar skidded to a stop and spun, single-mindedly focused on its target. Conrad''s mind had caught up, and now he weighed his non-existent options. He was too far away to tree himself, had no spear, and the boar wouldn''t miss him a second time, not this close and at a slower speed. The others weren''t armed yet and he had no fancy tricks to rely on now, only the blade at his hip and lady luck, whom he appeared to be rapidly running out of favor with.


    With a tempered sigh, he drew his boar knife and waited for the inevitable.


    The Hellboar was only too happy to oblige.


    The enraged creature stomped its feet to charge forward again, at this range it would close the distance between them in a single second. Conrad set himself to try and sidestep again and make a strike on the side of the thing''s neck, but it never arrived. A Rust and Black colored form slammed into the Hellboar from the side with a deep throated roar that shook his bones. The form''s impact left deep slashes in the the boar''s belly and neck before rebounding off and setting up again as it squealed in pain.


    Ruufarrl had struck first.


    Now, the boar had a new target, and it advanced on them with a vengeance.


    __________________________________________________________________________


    -Ruufarrl-


    He had reacted to the new threat without thinking, calling out his warning in his native Ruulothi rather than GalStan. But it appeared that effort itself was enough. Both Conrad and Greg reacted to the warning. Conrad had turned towards the new Hellboar in time to avoid its first attack, and Greg had scrambled to get his rifle out and prepped from where he had slung it on his back. Greg had been unable to get his weapon active in time to stop the attack, and now he had no shot without risking the round striking his own son.


    Conrad, though he had avoided the first charge, would be unable to continue to do so again and appeared to know it. He was preparing to die with Honor, a weapon in his hand and defiance on his lips.


    Ruufarrl smiled in spite of himself, "Not today, Youngblood. There is still much that we must do."


    He didn''t bother to grab for the knife at his side, it had been too long since he had felt his claws do their bloody work, and he wanted to relish the sensation again.


    He darted in the moment the creature focused all its attention on Conrad. Roaring a Battle Cry as he ran in on all fours and impacted with his lower shoulders and chest, placing his claws in the perfect position to rip at the Hellboar''s neck and belly. He pulled away, mindful of the creature''s spurs and tusks. His movement made his claws rip long, bloody furrows into the softer and unarmored under-flesh of the embattled creature.


    "Not enough. Grievous wounds, but nothing that will disable it without infection. Its hide is thick and blood vessels deep. That would have disemboweled a lesser creature and left them gasping for air from a rent throat. These...!?"


    His appraisal of the creature was cut short as it spun in place and leaped forward to attack, catching even him off guard. "So quick and agile!"


    He scrambled backward, pulling the pig away from Conrad and desperately trying to stay ahead of its tusks. For each step he swiped at the creature''s snout and face, hoping to keep it at bay and fearful of damage. Its face was being torn to bloody ribbons, but still it came on. Then, the creature changed tactics.


    Rather than continue trying to rip at its target with its tusks, the Hellboar surged forward while Ruufarrl was mid step. It shoved its bristly, armored shoulder into Ruufarrl''s ankle, off balancing him, and then caught the reinforced footwear of his grounded foot with an ankle spur as it twisted, spun about and kicked.


    Ruufarrl found himself crashing to the ground, with the angry and wounded boar now facing him head on to his own gut from a mere arm''s length away, head lowered and beginning its charge.


    ___________________________________________________________________


    -Gregor Mclaughlin-


    He had been busy dismantling the Camouflage Netting that they had used for their hide when Ruufarrl gave out a sharp growl of warning. It appeared to him in that brief moment that regardless of what species you came from, the tone and inflections of warnings against danger bridged the communications gap.


    He was already trying to pull his rifle around when the Hellboar breached the underbrush, headed straight for his son, but he wouldn''t be fast enough. "Conrad, MOVE!!"


    Whether through psychic intervention or his own instincts, Conrad somehow jumped out of the way, reminding Gregor of the ancient Matadors. His rifle was ready now, but he had no safe shot. He began to stalk to one side in an attempt to clear the line of fire, but Ruufarrl beat him to the punch.


    The old War Cat ran in on all fours, heedless of the risk and slammed himself into the Hellboar, seeming to envelop it in a kind of hug. Then the Ruulothi jumped back out of range, slicing the pig open in multiple places. Unfortunately, all this did was piss the thing off even more and draw its wrath.


    Behind them, Conrad threw himself to the left of the fight, going for where they had tied the dead pig to their spears.


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    Gregor read the flow of the fight now and moved to the position he would soon need.


    As Ruufarrl pulled the pig away from the others, he prepared his shot. Suddenly, the boar got the better of the hunter. It swung itself into Ruufarrl''s legs and knocked them clean out from under him, then lined up the killing blow.


    "Not this time you bastard."


    VSSSSTTT-CRACK!


    Gregor''s efforts paid off as he took his shot at the now clear broadside of the Hellboar. The pig, which had been ready to gore Ruufarrl, jumped in place and spun about, squealing in pain and limping on the right front leg. "Too far forward, shattered the shoulder. One more."


    He lined up a second shot, then lowered his rifle in a rush.


    __________________________________________________________________________


    -Conrad-


    Ruufarrl''s attack had bought him some time, but this was going to be over in seconds, one way or another.


    Conrad rushed back over to the boar that they had tied to the spears and began slicing at the ropes. "Rope is cheap. We can replace it later. I need this spear, NOW!"


    A few short seconds later and he had secured his prize. He turned around to see Ruufarrl thrown to the ground.


    "Shit! I won''t make it in time!"


    He ran forward anyway, but his father hadn''t been idle. He heard the hissing crack of the rail round being fired and saw the spark trail terminate in the boar.


    The boar jumped and spun, landing hard and favoring a leg. This slowed it just enough for Conard to line up his attack, spear still trailing severed scraps of rope.


    He drove the spear into the left flank of the boar with every ounce of power he could muster and cranked his end of the shaft up. This put extreme pressure on the shattered leg, which gave out. The pig collapsed onto its wounded side with a grunt and a wheeze. He looked to Ruufarrl, who had managed to get up by this point, "The knife! Take its throat!"


    Ruufarrl nodded and pulled the knife he had been given, stepped to the back of the creature''s head, and drove the knife home with both hands. He pushed as he pulled the blade back out to create a draw cut, and the boar''s blood sprayed out onto the forest floor.


    The pig''s struggling weakened as its squeals turned to gargles, then faded entirely.


    Conrad waited a good twenty seconds after the animal went still, just to be sure, then twisted the spear just before he pulled it out. If there was any fight left in the animal, it would have tried something then.


    It was finally, well and truly, dead.


    Conrad stepped back with a sigh, "Everyone alright?"


    Ruufarrl growled a quiet contemplation while checking over his legs, "I appear to be in one piece, despite my best efforts."


    His father gave a wry chuckle as he cleared and stowed his rifle again, "Clear here. Damn that got hairy quick."


    Greg paused a moment as something seemed to occur to him, then looked over at the hanging pigs in curiosity. He walked over to them and spun one while poking and squeezing at its belly, then shook his head and turned to do the same to the other and nodded in satisfaction.


    "Yeah, that would explain it. This one is pregnant. I am willing to bet this is the one that came second and just ran in to feed. Left her sire behind in her rush for food. What we thought was one sire and two sows breaking off the rest of the Infernum was actually two sires and their sows starting a whole new one. Looks like these guys were following the Ridgeback method of starting new packs. I would be willing to bet anything that this one is pregnant too, just hasn''t started to develop or show yet."


    He rejoined the group at the stretcher, and helped to reattach the ropes to the spear, "That will be the last of them, thank God. Let¡¯s tie this one up too and get back. We don''t have much time left before dark."


    They tied up the last boar, then field dressed all their kills to allow them to cool. The remains that they would not be keeping they left next to the bait pile. The local animals would sort out what they wanted from there.


    With those tasks completed they broke camp and made the trek back home. Greg went in to inform Dianna that they were back and safe, while Conrad and Ruufarrl went to stow their gear and prep the sleds. The pig they placed whole into a freezer. They were back out into the woods in minutes, with their spears and rifle... just in case.


    Their kills had been left alone, and it appeared that the bait pile had been ignored as well. The remnants from the field dressing had been scattered though, it seemed whatever had taken them had left at the first sign of the group returning.


    They laid out a tarp and field butchered the boar they had left behind, placing the harvested meat into cloth sacks and leaving the carcasses in the piles with the other remains. This kept their load a little lighter than it would have been and allowed them to place more piled into a smaller area. There was no need to officially claim the kills due to the Hellboar''s K.O.S. status, but they would still at least report their harvesting and extermination to Wildlife Management.


    With their haul retrieved, they arrived home just as the sun was setting. They set about cleaning up and placing their harvest in a second freezer.


    There had been surprisingly little talk outside of mechanical directions during the field butchering. They had each taken a pig to butcher, and Conrad''s father had directed the others in how to best harvest it. The task had gone smoothly, as each involved was experienced with the process in their own way.


    Finally, after a warm dinner and relaxing showers, they all said their goodnights and headed to bed.


    _______________________________________________________________________________


    -Ruufarrl-


    He lay on his borrowed bed with a small light on, one hand holding one of his purchased books, and the other idly stroking the contentedly purring Solais. He sighed at himself in frustration and put ''Great Hunts in Space'' down on the bedside table before turning off the light.


    "For all my years and hard-earned wisdoms, I am still too arrogant by far. That hunt was thrilling, far more than I had expected. These Hellboar were simply full of surprises. A wildly successful hunt... but only by the closest shave of a whisker." He popped the claws of one hand out to look at them before retracting them again, "I still have much to learn about self-control."


    He replayed the hunt in his mind, then again came to the part where he charged at the Hellboar, eager to rip into it with his claws, "That there, could have cost us everything. I was too focused on my desire to feel the hunt again, to feel my target open itself to me. It nearly got me killed, nearly got everyone killed. I had misjudged the humans and their intent. This was not simply an extermination hunt, they still played it by their own rules of the sport. I failed to recognize that until it was too late."


    He looked again at the book and thought again about the information that it had imparted. "Humans hunt for sport, yes, but they do not hunt for personal glory in the act, like we do. That comes later after a successful hunt, with trophies and proof. Humans hunt with an ingrained respect for their quarry. Whether this comes from them not truly being an Apex predator and knowing that anything they hunt is just as likely to kill them, I do not know. Likely neither do they, that would be an answer lost to the winds of time. They take their pride in the stalk, the successful regard of their prey, in knowing that they have beaten them. Knowing that they have out skilled, outsmarted and out played their prey, basking in the entire experience of it. When the time comes to claim that prey, their ultimate gesture of respect for it is to kill it as quickly and cleanly as possible. Minimal suffering, minimal pain, no matter the difficulty of the kill."


    The hunt played over in his mind yet again. From Greg''s first killing shot to the two boars immediately after that had been killed quickly by well-placed thrusts of their spears. Those had been in keeping with their Code of the Hunt. But the last kill... the last kill was the problem.


    Taken by surprise as they were, they still managed to hold a commanding position by surrounding the creature and having weapons available to them. Weapons that Ruufarrl had ignored in favor of his own claws. True, he did not know that they would be as ineffective as they were, but that is merely a poor excuse when he had been provided with a tool specifically for the job at hand. Yes, he had done it to protect Conrad, but he had not done so efficiently, had thought only of himself. Had he attacked with the knife, rather than with his claws, he could easily have struck a mortal blow against the creature. It would have quickly weakened and died, becoming easier to manage as it did so. Instead, he mauled it repeatedly until it looked as though it had been covered in straws of Bloodgrass. He did little more than extend the creature''s suffering and anger and, by association, risked the welfare of all those with him. He had even been admonished by the youngblood himself... after a fashion. He doubted Conrad telling him to use his knife had been in any way meant as a rebuke, but he had taken it as a much needed one anyway.


    "The youngblood had needed to tell me how to kill the animal. That is my shame to bear."


    He thought even further back, to the pirate attack, and realized that even then, Conrad had displayed this Human Code of the Hunt. Each kill had been fast, and clean. Even the Matriarch had died quickly, even if in an unorthodox manner. Had that been a Ruulothi Battlemaster, the enemies¡¯ bellies, throats, tendons and blood vessels would have been rent open to spill their contents on the floor, their owners left heaving and clinging to life as they slowly perished. They favored the glory of their conquest, of their physical victory. Human''s glory was in coming home again, quickly and safely. Ruulothi glory...


    "We become lost in the procedure, rather than refining it."


    If, as his experience and reminiscing now seemed to indicate, this Code of the Hunt pervaded the Human culture, how then would their military fight? He turned to look at the book that contained the examination of their Titan Accords, their Rules of Engagement. This would have to be his next read.


    Today had been humbling in many ways. From their cooking to Master Silva, to the bookstore and its mysteries, and then the Hunt. Each had shown him a facet of these people that had taken him by surprise. Each had taught him a valuable lesson about his pride, about his arrogance, about his misplaced confidence.


    He finally closed his eyes to sleep.


    He still had much to learn.

 Chapter 12

    ?-Ruufarrl-


    The morning after the Hunt they had started to look for ship listings that were headed in the right direction. Unfortunately, there was little headed out to GalCom space outside of luxury cruises. The next regular ship to make the trip wasn''t going to be for another two and a half weeks.


    They weren''t in any great rush to leave. His time here had been both enjoyable and illuminating, but he hadn''t forgotten that Kiiroth''s family waited for his remains to have a proper funeral. Then there was the matter of the Confirmation Ceremony for Conrad. The sooner he had the official backing of the Ruulothi, the safer he would be from interference, and the sooner peaceable talks between their two species could begin.


    Both of which were results well worth pursuing.


    He felt off that morning, actually had felt off for the few days he had been on planet. He hadn''t isolated the reason at first, putting it down to exhaustion from the time change and travel lag, plus his exertion from the past two days. But this day he noticed that everything was still heavier, slower, more exhausting.


    The planet''s Gravity was more than he was used to.


    He asked about this and got a surprising answer. Due to their universal adoption of a single system of measurement based off atomic measurements and weights, they measured basic calculations in the same manner that the Galactic Community did. With the Galactic Standard being Eight Force Units of Gravity, this planet stood at Eleven Force Units. It was surprisingly close to their own home world of Earth, which had a Gravity field of nearly Ten Force Units.


    They were used to heavier gravities all around, which explained a lot about them, and why he felt so sluggish lately.


    So, he took it easy that day and the next. He spent the time reading his book selections and researching thanks to the generous access he had to their Terminal Network. Most of that research was done verifying the various quirks of Humanity that he encountered in his reading and observations. Things that alternately sent his mind reeling, or straight into lock-up.


    The Primer stated that Humanity had long suspected about the existence of other interstellar intelligent species. Rumors of visitors and watchers in the sky, unexplained phenomenon and the like. But they had never found anything supporting that, even as they took to the stars themselves. No wreckage, no ruins, no obvious biological alterations. They had found minor life, even in their own solar system, but nothing intelligent. Because of this, they had maintained an intense competition with one another. With no unifying direction created by the presence of an outside source they had fought and climbed on one another, much like in the sport he had watched the other day. Each generation created its own rules on how things would be done, on which direction to take. Their development was a roiling wave of chaos surging outward, with only one end result possible.


    Humanities first major conflict among the stars was in its own home system, between colonies and mining stations of the Outer Regions and the colonies of the Inner Regions and Earth. It culminated in the complete eradication of a colony on the moon of one of their gas giants. The Titan Colony, one of their largest and most stable colonies at the time.


    Unhappy and unable to deal with the organized military blockade of Earth and the inner colonies, a rogue group of mining collectives turned its sights on the nearest colony that they felt determined the product of their labor unjustly. Finally, angry at their losses and inability to successfully take over the colony they instead did the only thing they had left to do, they threw rocks at it.


    It was an attempt to symbolically destroy the Icon of Government in the area. Plenty of warnings to evacuate the module had been given. The subsequent barrage from the gas giant''s local rings completely overwhelmed the colony''s point defense systems. The explosive laden and wired micro-asteroids and ice ruptured the colony''s bulkheads and destroyed the government module and breached the Hydrogen-Fusion Reactor housed below it.


    It shouldn¡¯t have mattered; Fusion is an incredibly safe power source. But mining charge laden debris missiles had ruptured more than just that. The plasma discharge blew through the damaged fail safes and caused an ignition in the nearby O2 processors, that should never have been that close to the reactor. The cascade failure caused by the exploding O2 lines left the colony little more than a scarred and shattered crater of glass and debris. The entire population of the Titan Colony, over a million colonists, was killed. It was the largest loss of civilian life in a single incident in the entire history of Humanity up to that point, or since.


    The response was swift and unmistakably final.


    Earth, Mars, Venus and their respective lunar colonies and mining outposts pooled together everything they had and went after the Collectives with a vengeance, and were joined by whatever ships, soldiers and resources the remaining outer colonies and unaffiliated mining groups could spare. None would allow such an act to stand uncontested.


    Mining ships and ore haulers converted for troop transport were left in their trail as gaping wrecks. Mining outposts and Transfer Stations were assaulted, captured, dismantled and subsequently used as target practice until nothing more than dust and shattered metal remained. Their workers and administrators captured and charged if they had any link to the attack. The Mining Collectives responsible for the attack were completely erased from existence, their physical assets destroyed, records seized, and their monetary assets and influence dissolved, people arrested or killed in conflict.


    In this process, it was discovered that it was the Collectives themselves that were setting the hard line on the value of their own products and labor, rather than the colony or any other entity, so that they could gain the greatest profits.


    "Avarice, it seems, is a universal problem for any race."


    Though many did not live to see it happen, the disgruntled miners had started something that would not be stopped. After the "Titan Incident", governments all over the system found themselves dealing with a cultural upheaval. Yes, the parties responsible had been brought to a swift justice, but people began to see things in a new light. They saw the immediate consequence, but nothing else changed. Safety regulations continued to be ignored, corners cut, backroom deals made. Other companies rose to take the Collective''s place, each with their own backer and politician in their pocket. Instead of being a call for change and solidarity, it became a gold rush for those with the means to fill the void.


    Civilians the system over watched it happen, and they had finally had enough. Centuries of watching it happen over and over again burned in their memories. Nearly overnight and all across the system thanks to their early Network, civilian hearts and minds united under a common cause. Within a few short years the ruling parties were cast out in elections, despite their desperate attempts to subvert it. The new group stood in political dominance over the entire system, and then went to work.


    From this new group would eventually rise the Sol Systems Alliance, and their first and greatest work would be the creation of the Titan Accords.


    These Accords would serve as a new Constitution for Humanity. Using an existing platform called the Geneva Convention and the Constitutions, Safety Organizations and Fair Trade laws of multiple countries and colonies as a base the Accords detailed the way that Humanity, ALL of Humanity, would deal with safety practices, conflict, trade, expansion, conservation and war. The Accords were designed with two primary segments, one specifically for Military personnel and warfare, the other for civilians covering colony rights, laws and safety guidelines. In some places the two segments would overlap, such as with the outright ban on orbital and kinetic or weapon based planetary strikes of any kind, for any reason. Such an act was considered among the most heinous, an automatic death sentence for any convicted of it, and was subject to immediate military reprisal. But in most they provided comprehensive but separate guidelines and laws for a growing spacefaring species, including the first contact protocols that they followed upon finding the Galactic Community.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    In the ashes of their worst disaster, Humanity had risen and united, breaking free of their self-imposed conflicts and throwing off the old order.


    That stability and unity persisted to this day. Rivalries still existed, Broken Fangs still preyed on the weak and unfortunate, but they were by far the minority. Colonies answered to Sector Capitals, where each colony held a seat. Each Sector in turn answered to Earth, the home of the SSA Grand Council, where each Sector held a seat. Their Sector lines were redrawn at least once every few decades, to incorporate new populations and colonies and maintain an odd number of voting members.


    The book with the abridged version of the Accords, "Modern Military History", highlighted the important points. Despite being abridged it was still a taxing read, as all legal documents seem to be, but it was worded with clarity in mind rather than the intentionally obfuscating lexicon typically used in legal documentation. This was due to it needing to be read and interpreted by civilians with no special legal training, or so a notation on a sidebar informed him.


    This insight gave Ruufarrl a solid laugh as he realized that Humans were just as verbose in their legal dealings as the bureaucracy heavy GalCom was. "Oh, they are going to give the Founders a challenge for their whiskers on any arena of competition. Probably a good part of the reasons why the Founders are so determined to control the outcome and keep them as far away as possible. They know it will be a fight of attrition."


    He noted to himself that the Accords had last been updated the same year that Humanity started doing their Cultural Exchanges and had succeeded in a petition to allow workers into GalCom dependent on awarded contracts and references.


    He pored over the simplified Accords, knowing that he wasn''t going to remember all of it, but that he would remember enough to make an informed report on the Human''s mindset and applicable processes.


    The ban on Orbital bombardments was interesting to him, as it wasn''t implemented in the Community. It was listed by the Humans as simply being too indiscriminate for effective use, regardless of tools and advances used. In the Human''s minds, guaranteeing the deaths of non-combatants, regardless of affiliation, was unacceptable.


    They drew a hard line between military forces and civilians. Only military related targets could be targeted by their military, and no places of communal gatherings could be targeted for any reason by anybody, nor used as places of organization and resistance by anybody. Schools, hospitals, non-military space stations, civilian dockyards and more were listed here. As with all such punishments, violators would be dealt with harshly and swiftly. "Noble enough concepts, but ones that can easily be taken advantage of, even if only briefly."


    There was a different list for non-atmospheric colonies, outposts and stations. Anything built in a non-compatible atmosphere was not to be targeted directly outside of the defenses, which were never to be built directly on listed exemptions. Many such places had point defense installations to prevent wayward meteorite strikes and pirates. Such defenses were to be isolated from the general populous enough that their destruction would pose minimal risk to the inhabitants. Subsequent actions against such installations required an invasion or a surrender.


    He did note that there was nothing specifically demanding or preventing civilians from banding together to combat a threat, or to surrender. Given that they could obviously own weapons, he suspected that this meant they were given the leeway to make the decision themselves. "Nothing more terrifying than a skilled hunter stalking you from the shadows. Especially one that you did not suspect to be a threat."


    Their reasons for not allowing civilians to be targeted unless attacked first differed from those the other Galactic Protector races followed. The general consensus and distilled reasoning among them for it was that it simply wasn''t sporting. It wasn''t a worthy hunt. For the Humans, they weren''t valid targets, they weren''t the enemy.


    He suspected that there was more to it than that, more unspoken considerations at hand. In his experience, allowing civilians to be attacked was the fastest way to lose control and create an angry, vengeful mob. Considering again that human civilians were allowed to own weapons, that was a bad mix indeed.


    "But now this! Providing aid to wounded enemies and prisoners?"


    Such an idea would never cross a Ruulothi''s mind unless they saw some sort of extreme presentation of valor or honor in a defeated individual, or they were a valuable capture of some sort or needed for an exchange. The wounded and prisoners were merely enemies that had not yet expired. Their loss was one less unit on the battlefield. One less mouth to stretch their supplies for. One less wound to bandage. One less voice to carry information to their enemies.


    The only mercy Ruulothi offered wounded and abandoned warriors was that of a quick death.


    Even so, it showed the Humans to be of an honorable persuasion during wartime. Flawed though it may be in his own estimations, the heart of it was still there. Even in a war, they considered the need to protect. Not only themselves, but those others caught in it.


    Ruufarrl''s thoughts paused as he read another side note, this one a quote from a Battlefield General who spoke to the assembly during the time that the Accords were first being drafted. "Though we choose to stand ready to defend, and are sent to kill by others, this does not absolve us of our actions in battle and war. We must retain our humanity if we are to ever return home and look our loved ones in the eyes again. If we are to ever to endure the mental and emotional hardships, we most know we did our best with a clean conscience. It is the duty of every serviceman and woman to be mindful of others, to prevent catastrophe and suffering beyond the pale of War. For only then, even in the fires of whatever fresh Hell that we have been sent to, can we continue to call ourselves Human. Only then can we consider ourselves worthy of the gifts and blessings we have been given."


    "A very pretty way of saying remember yourself and don''t let war change you for the worse. Even we see it, although less often now as those kinds of conflicts are few and far between. People who had been quick to jest or laugh become aggressive and violent in temperament. Others who started that way become more humble. Others still who simply cannot get enough of the release that combat gives them."


    He looked at his own claws again and remembered the hunt from the other day and his own past. "Though for some it is a necessary part of the job. There is no Battlemaster alive that doesn''t revel in the thrill of combat. But they must temper it rather than lose themselves to it, otherwise they become Former Battlemasters very quickly, as there is always a sharper and quicker claw."


    He returned to reviewing the book, trying to decipher its hidden meanings, "So they extend their interpersonal hospitality even to their enemies. Curious. A show of good will, perhaps? Hmm, I wonder how they would have thought of such things if they had a counterpart enemy that came with claws and fangs. Their skill at fighting aside, they are at least on similar ground with one another. It would be a fool''s gambit to give such grand considerations to one who could literally tear you apart in moments if given the chance. An interesting debate question at the very least."


    The door swung open as Solais barged his way in, looked about and sniffed, then decided he wanted to be elsewhere and left. Ruufarrl glared at the retreating cat, "Or would they have tried cuddling and petting such a foe and called them ''Kitty'' in an attempt to win them over?" He shuddered at the thought, "Humans. With them, some questions are better left unasked¡­ What is this?¡±


    He looked at the book in shock, not believing his own eyes. ¡°Boarding actions? That couldn¡¯t possibly mean¡­!? It DOES!! They are seriously insane enough to consider breaching and boarding an active spaceship a worthy strategy of some sort?¡±


    He looked rapidly through the titles of the books he had on hand, ¡°Nothing on modern tactics. I don¡¯t think that the ones that specifically focus on battles will give me the information I need. Perhaps the one on military equipment might shed some light, but it appears I am going to need to take another trip to the bookstore.¡±


    ______________________________________________________________________________


    The rest of his stay went rather well. He never did get completely used to the higher gravity, but he at least knew how to pace himself so that he did not suffer any adverse effects, and he actually made two more trips to the bookstore.


    It turns out that boarding entries on starships are rare, and primarily used for hostage rescues and pirate hunting. But the fact that they still consider it a viable tactic at all still made his hackles raise at the thought.


    He also got several more chances to speak with Master Silva and was introduced to different parts of the local communities. The Mclaughlin Clan held a barbecue at one point, sharing their bounty of Hellboar with neighbors and friends. An exceptionally tasty social event that he felt could take root and spread easily with his own people. Barbecuing meat was even easier than smoking it properly, and Dianna had indicated that there were many different methods available to prepare a proper barbecue depending on the desired effect and event and had promised to teach him a few that worked for his people''s methods of preparing food.


    He would absolutely be taking her up on the offer. He felt this sort of thing would be a good feast for any occasion. "Now if only we can open trade so that we can get access to the spices and culinary creations that make it possible. That Riosian Bourbon-Honey sauce alone is sure to be a fast favorite. Let alone any of the other literal thousands of options available. I sincerely hope she was joking when she said that each region in every colony has their own special blend of barbecue."


    As the days leading to their departure wound down, he began to plan their next steps. He hoped it would be a straightforward trip but knew there are always obstacles. The ship was a working ship, so they would likely be confined to certain areas of the ship, which wouldn¡¯t be much of a problem. It would give them time to go over the etiquette required for the funeral, Ceremony and meeting with Ruushan.


    The biggest issue was they weren¡¯t going all the way. The ship they hired was only going to be going far enough to get them into Galactic space, but not enough to get them to Ruulothi space. They would need to layover on a planet until they found a ship going the right way, and possibly even a second layover after that to make it to Ruuloth Prime.


    This would put them in the public eye and could potentially cause any of a number of issues and leave them exposed.


    But it was a risk that needed to be taken.


    They just needed to be prepared.

 Chapter 13

    ???-Gregor-


    They had spent the few short weeks his son was home doing what they could to make him and their guest feel comfortable and welcome. He ran his own land management business, and Dianna was a for hire consultant. Taking the time off to be good hosts wasn''t an issue.


    For their guest, it was simple hospitality, but for the other...


    He had not said anything to Conrad, but he had spoken with Master Silva as soon as he had received the first message after the attack and had been in steady contact with her since. As expected, she had known more than they had, and she had counselled them on what it meant for Conrad, and what to roughly expect with a Ruulothi house guest. But that was before they learned of the involvement of this Shadow Cabal, the Founders. Silva had not held back and gave them clear and concise information. She was of the mindset that forewarned was forearmed.


    He knew that Conrad hadn''t told them the full story so that they wouldn''t worry, but it had still stung that he had omitted such important information. Not that they could have done anything about it anyway, and it had eventually come out when they arrived for their visit and were talking about what came next.


    They knew that he meant well... he knew that. But in the end, he would rather be at least mentally prepared for the worst instead of being blindsided by it. And now... now they were going to be sending him out to be a target, again.


    "No." He again had to stop to remind himself. "We are not sending him out. He is going of his own volition. He has willingly and knowingly chosen this path, and all the dangers it contains. Ruufarrl has openly coached and advised him on it, and Silva has spoken with him on the matter as well during his visits. To say otherwise would be doing his resolve a disservice...


    He is as prepared as he could be."


    He wasn''t honestly sure which thought scared him more. The idea that someone out there wanted his son to disappear for surviving, or what else would result if they succeeded in removing him. Had it been simply a human or someone on planet he knew damn well what would happen on his end. He was a hard-bitten Scottish man, his wife was full blooded Irish, and they were fringe worlders. They weren''t above exacting some Frontier Justice when other means failed. But this...


    No matter how you looked at it, the circumstances were so grand that they were helpless. There was next to nothing they could do to affect the outcome when it came knocking, because it wouldn''t be knocking at their door.


    So, they made sure his son felt loved, and knew that home would always be safe for him. They made sure that his new Mentor was comfortable, had what he needed and was exposed to what Human Culture they could provide. It didn''t feel like it was much, but it was what they could do to support him and make a mark.


    With luck, it would make a difference.


    He kept an eye on their guest after he had asked about the planet''s Gravity. He hadn''t noticed it until after the hunt, but the big alien was having a hard time with the extra gravity. He certainly didn''t complain or make it obvious, but it was noticeable if you knew what to look for. Thanks to the ratio between their muscle densities and body size in relation to their home planet''s gravities, Ruulothi and Human strength levels were roughly comparable, with Ruulothi tending towards the stronger end of the spectrum thanks to their size and frame. But that didn''t mean that he would easily be able to withstand the constant added load from a heavier gravity world.


    As the weeks wound down, he found their guest sitting and recovering more than he stood, but he never pushed himself to the point that he would have over exerted or needed medical care. During these recovery times they often watched more sports or historical documentaries or talked about the pair''s next steps. He was certainly thankful for the insight that Ruufarrl provided from his own point of view and had come to trust that the Ruulothi was doing the best he could under the circumstances.


    Regardless, Ruufarrl managed himself incredibly well given the planet''s difficulties, a sign that he was no stranger to the pitfalls of interstellar travel. So Gregor decided to leave it be and not ask about his discomfort. He knew in some human cultures that asking about something that could be construed as a personal weakness was to give grave insult. Considering that the Ruulothi were prideful warriors, he felt that the caution was warranted.


    Not that he worried about Ruufarrl acting out. The warrior would be perfectly at home in a monastery somewhere.


    "...Do Ruulothi even have monasteries? I wonder if the idea is something that he would think interesting?"


    "Hey, Ruufarrl..."


    ___________________________________________________________________________


    The last day of their visit was surprisingly sedate as far as the beginnings of a journey go.


    They had already packed and were ready to go, but their boarding was not until late that afternoon. So, they went over again on what extra items could be taken and what could not.


    Dianna was particularly stumped, but not beaten. Food restrictions for travel were always an issue, doubly so for interstellar travel. She had wanted to send various items with them so that they could enjoy their trip but was forced to concede that her ideas simply weren''t going to happen, as nuts, seeds, drinks and meat were not allowed.


    That didn''t stop her from setting up a selection of cooking sauces for Ruufarrl, dehydrated seedless fruit snacks for Conrad, and spices cleared as non-toxic for both.


    Beyond that, their cargo load was simple essentials and work-related tools. Gregor, with Ruufarrl''s acknowledgement, had given Conrad a small aerial video drone to record the ceremony and other parts of his trip. The drone could be paired with human wrist-links and came with a low-profile harness that could be worn over one shoulder so the drone could be kept on one''s person, but out of the way and able to charge at the same time.


    If nothing else, this would allow them to see Ruuloth Prime and his ceremony the next time he came home. Though Gregor suspected that his recordings may even eventually become something more than that, depending on what exactly was recorded. Which was really why he got it for him. "Better to hedge all of our bets. Never know when it might come in clutch, especially since I am pretty sure none of the Galactic aliens even know what it is. Ruufarrl gave it one hell of a curious inspection, and was doubly baffled when he found out they are basically toys."


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    Once everything was packed and ready to go, they sat down to a big farewell lunch of Citrus Pulled Pork from the harvested Hellboar, fried herbal Stryka Root strips, garlic bread and Roka Cider. Finally, as a special going away gift for Ruufarrl in particular, a rack of seasoned bacon. As a special touch, all the meat was cooked with imported Maple Syrup.


    They had lunch early enough that they could recover from it in time to make it completely through customs before they boarded.


    Gregor and Dianna had insisted on taking them to the Shuttle Port. There was no need to pay for a taxi when they could offer a ride. The trip in went smoothly, and they got to see a local fair in the outskirts of Cormorant as they flew by. They explained it to Ruufarrl as a Festival with games, rides, various contests entertainments and food. Unfortunately, they did not have enough time to visit the event themselves when Ruufarrl expressed interest in it.


    Ruufarrl gathered the expected attention as they walked through the Shuttle Terminal, this time a couple of tourists were brave enough to come over and ask for a picture. Ruufarrl was suspicious of their intent but allowed it. They had to explain after that, like with the drone they had given Conrad, travelling humans would often take as many pictures and videos as they could to relive their trip later. The more uncommon the scene they found, the more likely they were to try and record it in some manner, and it was a hallmark of humans that were visitors as opposed to natives. It was a facet of sentimentality that the majority of humanity shared, along with the many other uses of recordings.


    Shortly after their random encounter with the tourists, they set up to say their final goodbyes at the entryway to the terminal.


    Since the men and alien were too stoic to just open up and say it, Dianna stepped up and started, "Just remember that you will always have a place here at home, okay? No matter what happens, you can always come back."


    "Mom, I''ll be fine. But I will be sure to send messages and come back to visit, I just don''t know yet when that will be."


    "Well, when you find out, you let us know, okay?" Her expression darkened for a moment, "And don''t go omitting details next time... alright?" Conrad froze out of habit at her tone and glare, "Y-yes ma''am."


    Dianna''s expression faded back to normal as she smiled, "Good. Mr. Ruufarrl, it has been both a pleasure and an honor. Thank you for everything you have done. You are always welcome here."


    Ruufarrl gave her a soft smile and a gentle nod, "Thank you, for your hospitality and consideration. Though in truth, I have done little more than make a recommendation that was taken seriously." He looked up and around at the facility and out the large bay windows at the planet beyond.


    "I do sincerely hope that some arrangement is made. Both of our species have much that can be taught to each other, and I think, perhaps, that we might be able to help you with your Hellboar problem. There is nothing that we like more than a good hunt." He gave a little wistful grin before shaking himself and returning to the moment, "But these are little more than dreams whispered to the winds at this point. All in due time."


    Gregor nodded at this, "Time will tell, to be sure. Conrad, I know we can''t do anything to help you beyond this point but listen up. ''Mu tha thu airson a bhith buan, na teid eadar an t¨¦ ruadh agus a'' chreag.''"


    His son looked at him quizzically as he took a moment to change mental gears and translate for himself. He remembered the language quickly and went to speak, but a sharp pain suddenly flared in Gregor''s ribs and the air flew out from his lungs. He saw Conrad''s eyes go wide and he slowly stepped backwards, as though trying to avoid the attention of a wild animal.


    "OW, what the..." He looked down to see his wife giving him an absolute death glare, "Excuse me, Mr. Mclaughlin?!" Her Irish accent was out in full, and that could only mean one thing.


    He held his bruised ribs, took his own step back and held up a warding hand, "What was that for?"


    "Don''t you ''What was that for'', me! You know exactly what that was for. Did you perhaps forget that I am Irish, and that I happen to know exactly what you just said?"


    "It means..."


    "I know what it means... both meanings." She continued to give him a hard stare down for a few more moments before changing tacks with a tone that brooked no argument, "You are taking me to dinner tonight... Santini''s."


    Gregor flinched and saw his son do the same, they both knew the cost, and knew the only viable option was surrender. "Yes, dear."


    He turned to look at his son, but still kept his wife in his peripheral vision and hand on his side, "Just... Just be careful, bud. Alright? Keep your head on a swivel."


    Conrad gave him a tired look, "¡®Ar sc¨¢th a ch¨¦ile a mhaireann na daoine'', Dad. We will be fine..." He waited and gave him a smirk when Dianna wasn''t looking, "Better than you at any rate."


    He glared at his son, then realized he was right and shook his head with a snort and a grim smile, "Any other day, boy. Safe travels to you both."


    Goodbyes over, he turned back to his still fuming wife and began to desperately try and plot his way out of the mess he had just unwittingly dove headfirst into. "Heh, like father like son, I guess. But I think, between the two of us, he has a higher probability of coming back alive right now."


    _______________________________________________________________________


    -Conrad-


    He waved goodbye to his parents as they left and chuckled to himself. "I am so glad we aren''t going home with them."


    Ruufarrl''s deep voice rumbled out from behind him, "That was indeed strange... and amusing. What exactly was just said?"


    "Ahh ahh, not here. I don''t even want to be on the same planet as her when I explain that one. Not worth the risk. Let¡¯s go get through the scanners, get your stuff and collect Kiiroth. We should have enough time to do that and find our terminal a little early."


    They worked their way through the various security checkpoints and had their outgoing bags checked. Once everything was cleared, they showed the receipts for the stored property and Kiiroth''s remains. On a whim, he decided to put on the harness and drone. If he was going to start recording his journey, he might as well have it ready to go. It wasn''t as though there was any sort of rule against it either. He would just be another everyday tourist.


    The process went in the reverse of what they had been through before. They picked up the long case while they waited for a loader to arrive and assist them with the containment unit that had Kiiroth''s body. The Officer in Charge that day was a different person than the one that had been there before. He was a little less personable than the first Officer, but no less professional, and the guards worked in the same picture-perfect precision that they had before. He could tell that Ruufarrl appreciated the effort and attention to detail that they put in, and quietly recorded the process using his new drone. "Guess this can work both ways, and I should be thinking about that now that I am going to be the next best thing to an envoy. I can record for both myself <u>and</u> Ruufarrl. If nothing else, this is evidence of our professionalism and respect towards the dead."


    They followed the loader to their shuttle, got their gear loaded and joined the other passengers for the flight up to the station. As they strapped themselves in Conrad noticed that the G-chairs used the same transformative nano-system that his families beds used. He suspected this made them better at absorbing the g-forces and making the passengers comfortable and less stressed.


    He found out a few minutes later.


    Though the shuttles glided in on light engine power, the trip out took everything the engines could muster, so much so that they even turned off all but the emergency lights and overhead terminal in the passenger section of the ship, leaving them in near darkness for their voyage. Even though the interior was layered in sound dampening materials, the pulse engines spooling up and firing still reverberated through the craft.


    After a brief countdown on the terminal, everyone was slammed back into their seats, and remained squished there for almost the entire trip to space.


    He had been right. These seats were nice.


    The terminal continuously flashed the red message to stay buckled until cleared to move, even after reaching null gravity in orbit. It didn''t flash the green clear light until all the lights were turned back on and they had completely docked. "Don''t want anyone turning to mush if a sudden maneuver is needed. ?There are stories and articles, after all."


    They disembarked the shuttle and used a grav-trolley to move their cargo around to their last destination, a large GalCom cargo hauler.


    Ruufarrl couldn''t wait anymore and pointed out the large window, "So, now that you can see the planet is safely over there, would you mind explaining?"


    Even still, Conrad took a tentative look around himself and took a deep breath. "I suppose."


    "What my father said, ''Mu tha thu airson a bhith buan, na teid eadar an t¨¦ ruadh agus a'' chreag,''? is Gaelic. It''s an old Earth language that is nearly gone. Spoken only by his people, and my mother''s. Their ancestors lived on large islands that were practically touching one another, so they have some similar traits, and some superstitions about one another... some of which are well earned.


    It has several meanings depending on the context. What he meant, for me, was ''To live a long life, don''t tempt fate or court death.'' He was basically telling me not to take unnecessary risks. What it literally translates to and means is what pissed mom off, cause it is in reference to her people. Mom is¡­ a bit of an outlier among her people. Irish folk tend to have light skin and light hair, with a higher percentage of them than anywhere else having deep or bright red hair.


    The phrase is also a warning against tempting a woman''s wrath, and Irish women in general, whose personalities can be as fiery as their hair. Literally translated it means, ''If you wish to live a long life, don''t go between the redheaded woman and the cliff.''"


    Ruufarrl barked in drawn out laughter, drawing some sideways glances from those around them. After he finally got himself under control, he gave Conrad a tooth filled smile, "I see that such wisdom transcends the boundaries of time and space. We have a similar proverb, ''Don''t pick at the maiden''s feast,'' for much the same reasons. The men fight and war, but the women rule the home, with iron fangs if need be."


    He purred in amusement for a little longer. The ship was starting to board its passengers, so they gathered their things and headed over, "And what of the phrase you used?"


    "Oh, that?  ''Ar sc¨¢th a ch¨¦ile a mhaireann na daoine.''


    It means, ''We live protected under each other''s shadow.''"

 Chapter 14

    ???-Conrad-


    Their accommodations left much to be desired.


    The allowed area for the passengers of the Cargo ship was little more than a short hallway with ten rooms, a cafeteria and a communal Hygiene pod. Each of the rooms was smaller than a Human standard jail cell, with little more than a bed and a recessed wall terminal. He knew that space on a ship was at a premium, but this was pushing the envelope.


    They were paying for the convenience of travel, as opposed to the comfort of it, and the Captain of the ship knew it.


    The silver lining to their living situation was that there were only two other passengers upon starting their trip from Nueva Rios. One was a Verach, seeing them reminded Conrad of Jjatha, and made him wonder what had happened to his friend.


    The other was an entirely new species to him, and with Ruufarrl was resting to re-acclimate to normal gravities, he was unable to provide any insight at the time.


    The unknown alien had some features that directly reminded Conrad of a fox or coyote, with a long, cunning looking face, wide eyes, triangular ears and a slim body. Their bulging throat and different teeth were the only things that really broke the illusion. They even talked like how he would expect a smooth talking con-man to speak.


    He was in the cafeteria, really more of a small dining room with a micro kitchen, when Conrad first saw the other two passengers. He continued to observe them quietly as he ate, and noticed the unknown alien stick out its tongue to eat a cluster of fruits.


    Its tongue just kept coming out.


    Not only did it keep coming out, but it wrapped around the fruit cluster on its own and stripped it from the stalk that it was attached to.


    He managed to keep from embarrassing himself by openly staring. After he finished eating, he returned to his room to scan through one of the books he had found on their trips to see Master Silva; ''Major Races and Cultures of the Galactics''.


    The alien was called a Flokian. Flokians, it seemed, were a prideful and highly social species that naturally competed with one another and others to be the best at whatever they set their minds to and took to politics like a duck to water. This automatically made them both more relatable in Conrad''s mind and made him more wary of them. They ate only fruit and naturally communicated in a series of grunts, barks and growls, using a wide array of different tones facilitated by the fine control of their long, prehensile tongue. However, because this tongue made "normal" speech difficult, each Flokian made it a point of pride to be able to speak GalStan perfectly and with greater command of the language and its foibles than others had. Coupled with their natural political inclinations, this made them extremely smooth talkers.


    It was the last pieces of information that made Conrad groan: "In spite of their normally gentile social structure, Flokians are known to be comfortable enough with violence to fight if needed. In addition to being gifted politicians, they are also adept mechanics and engineers. In fact, it was the Flokians that discovered a method of energy containment that led to the current standard issue weapons in the Galactic Community, their Emitter Beam weaponry, after a malfunction with a now outdated plasma-based starship engine. Flokians are also one of the original seven founding members of the Galactic Community and have served it as politicians, engineers and interim defenders since its inception."


    "A Founding Race... wonderful. I will have to let Ruufarrl know when he wakes up. So much for staying incognito this trip. No, that isn''t fair. Maybe not <u>all</u> of them are in on it... maybe. They didn''t seem to notice or care that I wore a Mantle. But then again, maybe they were just playing it out like I was. Or maybe they aren''t actually a part of the new Founders... Have the members changed? Is it a species wide thing? Or is it more of an exclusive club of Ruling Elite type of thing? So many questions... I should have asked before we left, I don''t think Ruufarrl will be as open now that we are back in their shadow. Wait! Maybe we can type on my PT!"


    Conrad''s thoughts continued to spiral until he finally shook his head and pushed himself to not worry about it. There wasn''t anything that could really be done about it right now anyway. "For now, it is best just to avoid them. If that is even possible in this tiny cage of ours."


    He pulled his PT out and set it up as best he could in the cramped confines. "Damn, we most definitely aren''t going to be able to fit both of us in one of our rooms. Looks like anything we do is going to need to be in the Dining Hall. Which means we will be exposed, vulnerable and obviously trying to be discreet to anyone else in there."


    ?


    Conrad sighed and relaxed a moment before starting to type his questions. He figured if he had them ready to go, then Ruufarrl would be able to simply answer them without passing the PT back and forth. Looking less suspicious seemed to be a good idea for now. At least until he knew what the risk was. But now... Now he could at least get ahead in some respect. Once done with his questions he returned to the book, and dove through it to track down and learn about the other six of the Founding races.


    It was going to be a very long month if he had to keep playing these spy games.


    _____________________________________________________


    It turns out, he didn''t have anything to worry about. On the surface at least.


    Ruufarrl had found his concerns and attempts at subtlety amusing. Despite his amusement, he seemed to be appreciative of the effort and acknowledged it by using the PT to quietly answer Conrad''s questions when it came to anything Founder related.


    He told Conrad that the Founders as a group didn''t necessarily have the full support of their respective races in their efforts to suborn newcomers and maintain their advantages within the Community. They were a small group of leaders from each of the founding races that would groom their replacements when the time came to step down. Most laypeople didn''t even know they existed, but as you got to the top of the social ladders, the knowledge became more available. So, it was entirely likely that this particular Flokian had absolutely no connection to them since he was a young engineering student.


    But that didn''t mean that Conrad was going to take unnecessary risks either. As far as he was concerned, the only thing that the other aliens needed to know about his being there was that he was looking for work with his Ruulothi sponsor.


    It was still difficult, even with his preparations and mindset. They were just so damned friendly.


    When it came to the more sociable races within the Community, like the Verach, Taladians and now Flokians, it was so hard to not get pulled into a conversation with them. Their base setting was social butterfly, so once that ice was broken, there was no going back.


    The Verach, was wary of both Ruufarrl and Conrad at first, and tried to quietly keep as much distance and physical barriers between them as possible. But the Flokian simply didn''t care. An odd reaction when compared to that which Conrad had come to expect as standard, but reasonable given what he had read of them. In the end, they all wound up spending most of their time in the dining area talking about whatever random topic had happened to come up. He learned that the Verach, Thaloth, was heading to a new job on the same planet that Conrad and Ruufarrl were heading to, and the Flokian, Rujein, was returning home to a nearby system from studies abroad to meet a potential wife. Apparently Flokian customs encouraged close relatives to try and help another to "settle down". It wasn''t quite an arranged marriage, the other party had to agree to the meeting and they could both walk away, but it was a rare occurrence as the methods they used ensured that the two parties were compatible in some way and likely to find each other agreeable. From what Rujein was saying, he was quite excited to come home and meet her in person.


    Conrad paid close attention to what was said about current events when they were close enough to a planet or comms buoy to get updates. He wasn''t sure what he hoped to learn, but whatever it was, he never found it. They griped about the news just as much as a human did. Mostly they were concerned about how specific developments and issues would affect their employment opportunities in the near future.


    Thaloth was initially worried that he might lose the job he had just been accepted to as a development planner, but the company he had signed on with had avoided getting involved in bad local politics and was free from suspicion. Rujein listened to the news to hear about any interesting engineering opportunities, since he hoped that he was going to be remaining at home for some time. He read between the lines of the broadcasts and suspected a couple of large companies would soon be hiring, but they weren''t based where he was going, so he mentally filed them away for future reference.


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    The crew stayed out of their area except to bring in fresh provisions, and they weren''t allowed out to interact with the crew, but they were able to keep track of time passing by listening to the inter-ship broadcasts, which were piped into their area as well. By their reckoning, they had only made one pit stop along the way and didn''t take any extra passengers on at the time. Which left it just the four of them together for the entire month. Unfortunately, this made their list of topics run out quickly and meant that Conrad had to start planning the next day''s topics beforehand in order to avoid answering some topics. During one of his planning sessions, he thought to give something new a try and brought his Portable Terminal with him again.


    Once he took to showing them things from Earth and Nueva Rios on his Portable Terminal, his options for conversation opened right up. His Terminal held nearly ten terrabytes of informational files on it, with plenty of room left over. At least five of those were standard on every Portable Terminal, and they included information Earth history, both human and natural, biology and zoology, geological and travel information. In total it was several full doctorate''s courses worth of information.


    When Conrad''s family left Earth he had taken the information on the terminal and the opportunity it represented to heart out of longing, and given Nueva Rios the same treatment. Though Nueva Rios wasn''t nearly as well documented, there was still had a surprising amount of information available and more came in every year.


    It wasn''t quite the same as being connected to the Net, but it was a lot of valuable information, especially for those born on distant worlds who had never even seen the Earth. It was now pulling double duty with those who had never dealt with humanity in general.


    Running with the memory of Jjatha and Ruufarrl''s reactions to seeing their counterparts, Conrad decided to start there. Both Thaloth and Rujein were elated and enamored of their terrestrial mirrors. The Flokian in particular seemed genuinely happy to discuss the similarities and differences, and when Conrad showed him a giraffe and it''s tongue the alien simply couldn''t stop laughing. Mostly it was at how goofy giraffes looked, but he did express a wish that he had a longer neck to handle his tongue, or a shorter tongue. Rujein admitted that he found dealing with the finer points of controlling it to simply communicate to be tedious and occasionally painful.


    It would be like a human trying to learn how, and constantly needing, to talk while keeping their tongue rolled up on itself. Except their tongue now goes down their throat and coils up on itself next to their vocal cords.


    On a whim, Conrad asked if they practiced mimicry and ventriloquism. The Flokian gave him a mischievous grin and spoke to him in a child''s voice, all while holding the grin. The combination of an alien with toothy grin and a young child''s voice gave Conrad the shivers. Thankfully the shocking display hadn''t been in Conrad''s own natural language, so he was able to keep a small suspension of belief and keep control of his reaction.


    This interplay eventually led to them discussing ancient human mythologies. Of particular interest to them were the Pantheons that included anthropomorphic entities, those of the Hindu, Egyptian and Mesoamerican cultures.


    In researching these religions and cultures, Conrad¡¯s travelling companions came to the unanimous decision that Humanity simply must have had some sort of alien contact in the past.


    In the process of scanning through the various mythologies, they came across dragons. At their curiosity Conrad explained that essentially every ancient human culture had a legend of these large, sometimes supernatural, flying lizards.


    The others, Ruufarrl included, looked at the myriad of images in earnest and whispered among themselves.


    ¡°This¡­ is a very interesting piece of information.¡± Ruufarrl said. He looked like he was trying very carefully to choose his words but hesitated. In the void that he left, Rujein spoke.


    ¡°You say that every Human culture has a legend of these beings?¡± He paused and looked at the others before continuing, ¡°I would dare to say that every Galactic Culture does as well. This is¡­ quite interesting, especially from a people that has thus far been so far removed as to have had no contact with us. If integration happens, this will become an intensely hot topic amongst scholars.¡±


    ¡°Wait, you all have stories of them too? What are your legends about?¡±


    ¡°For us Flokians, they are creators, forefathers to the Gorvum, a particularly nasty creature that still haunts our world in the depths of the oceans. They clashed with our Gods of creation and were driven out.¡±


    Thaloth nodded, ¡°For my people they are different in origin. They were vicious and greedy and fell to infighting, leaving them too few to survive. The last of them retreated to the clouds and sky in search of others of their own kind and were never seen again.¡±


    ¡°And for mine, they were the perfect hunters,¡± Ruufarrl added last, ¡°We still tell children¡¯s tales that warn against going out at night or being a lazy hunter, as they will be stalked and carried away by the Fiilkaar, our dragons.¡±


    ¡°Wait, so everyone has legends of some sort about them? Does that mean¡­?¡±


    Rujein jumped in when Conrad paused, ¡°We had thought it strange, even among ourselves, but attributed it to a long-lost connection of some sort or intercultural contamination. But if your species also has these myths, from across the Barrier Expanse... Perhaps they themselves were wandering interstellar travelers of some sort? Who knows¡­ we¡¯ve certainly never found physical evidence, have you?¡±


    Conrad shook his head, ¡°No, none at all. We thought it may have come from mistaken perceptions of adventurers. They saw a crocodile of some sort, or maybe even the fossilized bones of a dinosaur. Something they couldn¡¯t explain.¡± As he spoke, he showed them images of the creatures he mentioned, ¡°But none of them explained the wide variations we came up with. Benevolent and evil, winged and wingless, powerful and weak, or how they would crop up in places that they had no business being, like in the middle of the ocean.¡±


    He looked around at the others as they processed this, and suddenly realized how tired he was. They had been talking for most of the evening and lost track of time.


    Conrad shook his head and yawned, the action caught on and spread through the others. ¡°Oof, looks like we forgot to sleep. Good night, I will see you all tomorrow.¡±


    With rumbled agreements, the others also headed off to sleep.


    _____________________________________________________


    The end of their trip came quicker than expected thanks to the company, but they were still glad to be off the ship and able to stretch their legs.


    Customs procedures in GalCom were much more streamlined than those in Human space. They weren¡¯t concerned about why you were there; they simply scanned your luggage for banned items, scanned travelers for diseases and contraband, and sent you on your way.


    They parted ways with Thaloth at the shuttle port terminal and headed out to find a ride into the city.


    Conrad had seen large cities before. He grew up on the British Isles after all and had seen London in all its sprawling and shining glory, and dingy alleys. But this city was simply massive. At first glance it looked to be at least four times the size of London, both outward and upward.


    His mind marveled at the necessary engineering feats required to make the place run smoothly. He wandered off briefly after they arrived in the city as Ruufarrl handled the business part of their exchange.


    He allowed himself to get too distracted, though. As he stood in the outdoor entry space for the ¡°taxi¡± platform in the city he didn¡¯t see the two aliens approaching until they were too close for comfort.


    He brought himself back to his senses and realized that two younger looking Ruulothi stood to confront him. He blinked in surprise as he took in his immediate surroundings. Ruufarrl was still inside the service terminal handling the paperwork, and there was no one else nearby.


    The two glared at him. Not at him, rather, but at his mantle. Noticing this he gave them a once over, neither of them wore one themselves.


    ¡°Where exactly did you get that,¡± the first one said, his tone demanding and aggressive. He was slightly larger than the second and had dark brown and red fur, while the second was mostly red. ¡°Brownie and Red then. Shit¡­ I shouldn¡¯t have wandered off.¡±


    He knew that hesitating would only encourage them, so he went on the attack himself to try and show authority with indifference, ¡°I earned it in combat, like many do¡­ Where¡¯s yours?¡±


    The two snarled in response. Red seemed to catch on that there was more going on than expected and took a partial step back in deference. Brownie though, couldn¡¯t take the hint.


    ¡°Do. Not. Lie. There are no Human Bloodclaws. Your species is weak and could never be recognized for the Honor. You shouldn¡¯t even be in Galactic Space, petitioner.¡±


    ¡°There wasn¡¯t any Human Bloodclaws, there is now. Clearly, I have proven your biases wrong, there is always a first. If, as you say, I shouldn¡¯t be in Galactic Space, then how exactly did I come across such an award? A Bloodclaw would only ever part with it on death, so what do you think I did? Kill a Bloodclaw and move to impersonate them? Read the markers youngblood, I am heading to Ruuloth Prime with my mentor to be confirmed. Impersonating an applicant would get me nothing.¡±


    Brownie stewed in anger, but Red had listened. He moved to corral his compatriot, but Brownie shrugged him off and stepped into Conrad¡¯s space, grabbing him by the shoulders.


    Brownie roared in Conrad¡¯s face, and he felt the Ruulothi¡¯s claws start to dig in. ¡°Shit, shit shit. Damnit, looks like we are doing this the hard way then.¡±


    He saw Ruufarrl and yet another all black Ruulothi, also a Bloodclaw, exit the building and stand by to watch. Other foot traffic had dispersed with Brownie¡¯s roar, not willing to get caught anywhere near an angry Ruulothi.


    Ruufarrl looked angry and spoke animatedly with the other, but Conrad knew that he wouldn¡¯t, couldn¡¯t, interfere. A challenged Bloodclaw was to handle his own business. If Conrad looked to him for help, he wouldn¡¯t be worthy of the Title.


    Even so, he tried one more time to get the hot-headed fool to see reason. ¡°See that Ruulothi over there, the one with the Greater Mantle, that is my Mentor. Walk away now, and I will let this go out of respect for the confusion and strangeness of the encounter. But if you choose to continue, I will put you in your place¡­ unblooded fool. Last. Chance.¡±


    Brownie looked over his shoulder at the two elders standing to the side. He paused, even if only momentarily, before turning back to Conrad with a malicious grin. ¡°You just saw him as you passed by, a convenient excuse for a weakling, nothing more. I will be taking that Mantle from your worthless¡­ GRAWK!¡±


    Conrad had learned a little about Ruulothi physiology from Ruufarrl and suspected a few other things from his overall knowledge of biology. Ruulothi had to work to keep their claws out. Stunning them would make them retract, and right now, those claws were his biggest worry. Also, if they were anything like other cats¡­


    He reached up to Brownie¡¯s jaw fur, clamped down and yanked his face towards him as he snapped his own head forward. His forehead struck Brownie¡¯s larger, more sensitive nose with a muted and wet ¡®Crunch¡¯, sending Ruulothi backwards with his paws on his face.


    Not content to simply let him recover, Conrad stepped into his opponent¡¯s space and continued his dropping motion from his headbutt, driving his right fist forward and downward into the reeling alien¡¯s now exposed pelvic girdle. He followed that up with a left-handed cross to the jaw of his suddenly forward leaning opponent, dropping him to the ground.


    As he suspected, even though Red had tried to stay out of the conflict, he could not allow his partner to fall without answer. But Conrad had set himself up for it. He continued his left to right momentum from the cross and jumped into a spinning roundhouse kick that took the charging Ruulothi in the side of the head, something no Ruulothi could do, and therefore could not have ever expected or defended against.


    Both of his opponents were down and groaning in pain, and no longer posed any sort of threat, so he simply re-arranged himself and looked pointedly at the two elders. Ruufarrl had what could only be described as a Fox-in-the-henhouse grin, while the other stood in slack-jawed amazement. To his credit, he recovered very quickly and walked up with Ruufarrl.


    The newcomer¡¯s voice was even deeper and richer than Ruufarrl¡¯s, ¡°I did not believe you when you told me Master Nightmane. My deepest apologies for my skepticism. Also, to you, Youngblood. I fear my charges have yet to learn the etiquette necessary to travel unaccompanied. It is an unacceptable failure on my part.¡± He looked over at them with a pained expression and sighed, ¡°What punishment do you feel is necessary?¡±


    Conrad glanced at Ruufarrl, who nodded passively for Conrad to decide. ¡°I think this has been more than enough. They have been force fed their misplaced pride and anger. With luck, they will learn from it.¡±


    The Elder breathed a sigh of relief, ¡°Thank you. Oh, do not doubt, there will most definitely be some very hard lessons that will be hammered into their skulls.¡±


    The two grounded aliens sank in on themselves as they heard the anger in their mentor¡¯s voice.  ¡°In fact, Master Nightmane, you stated that you were heading home for his confirmation. Please, take our berths in two days¡¯ time. It seems that we will be unable to return home for a much longer time than I had expected.¡±


    Conrad hadn¡¯t realized that they could possibly get anymore crestfallen as Ruufarrl answered, ¡°Thank you. I believe that we will take you up on that offer.¡±

 Chapter 15

    -Ruufarrl-


    He had been furious.


    But, his own anger not-withstanding, he recognized that Conrad had handled himself well.


    Ruufarrl had hoped that this chance meeting would provide them with the opportunity to begin slow introductions into different arms of the Ruulothi Community, allow for different Clans to see the value of what the humans could represent.


    In the end this may yet serve the same purpose, from a different angle, but it was very nearly the collapse of everything they had been working towards. All because a couple of arrogant, headstrong cubs decided they didn¡¯t need to verify information, that they knew better.


    He had taken longer than expected to leave the Transit building after running into the Bloodcoat Clan Mentor, Loormar. He claimed that he and his charges had been on planet to give them some experience with the Galactic Community as a whole and so they could learn to temper their natural dispositions when dealing with other species before they enrolled in the Ruulothi Academy. As other species often saw base Ruulothi dispositions as aggressive, it was an important skill to have, and there was no better teaching tool than in person feedback.


    Their Clan had chosen the two youngbloods for this instruction as they were promising leadership candidates. Up until this day their learning had gone smoothly, and there had been no sign of any lingering issues.


    During their conversation Ruufarrl had told Loormar of his own mission. He had reacted with appropriate skepticism but took him at his word and wished to see for himself the Human that had broken the mold and done such seemingly impossible feats.


    Ruufarrl grinned to himself at the memory of Loormar¡¯s face immediately following the confrontation, ¡°And by the Great Hunt did he ever get his fill!¡±


    When they had exited the building and found the brewing confrontation Ruufarrl had nearly overstepped and intervened in his rage. Not because he felt Conrad couldn¡¯t take care of the matter, but because of the blatant disrespect for the Bloodclaw Title.


    His ironclad self-control, the almost bored look that Conrad had flashed him, and the equal ire of Loormar next to him and the edicts of the Bloodclaws had stayed his hand. They were not to intervene, only respond after all was done.


    The two fools were emboldened by the misleading reputation that humans had garnered amongst their people and saw Conrad as a weak target. If he had been a Ruulothi they would never have dared to put their paws on him.


    If Conrad had been confirmed at this point, he could have easily taken their lives for their actions. Even unconfirmed he could have pushed for it.


    But he hadn¡¯t.


    Perhaps it was simply because he just wanted to wash his hands of the whole issue and be done with it, or maybe he had seen even deeper into the roots of the confrontation already, but Conrad had simply let the beat down serve as the punishment.


    In doing so he had shown skill in combat, fearlessness, restraint and the capacity to move on. In those few short moments, he had proven beyond a doubt to Loormar that he was a worthy choice.


    ¡°Now that I have calmed and thought more about it, perhaps this will serve our purposes even better than mere introductions. To hear the story is one thing, but to see proof of it with one¡¯s own eyes is to catch the scent on the winds for yourself. This will be a tale to tell in and of itself and will reach far more ears than the simple curiosity of a Human Bloodclaw.¡±


    He stole a glance at Conrad. They were in the lobby of a temporary housing establishment waiting their turn at the desk to register. Thanks to Loormar¡¯s benevolence and dedication to instruction, they would be arriving at Ruuloth Prime far sooner than he had anticipated.


    They had already parted ways with the other group, though would meet again a couple of days when the ship they were to board would arrive. Loormar felt it necessary to have his trainees look upon the ship that should have been taking them home leave them behind. He also hoped they would take the opportunity to seize the initiative and apologize for their actions.


    It was important that they come to the decision themselves. Otherwise, the lesson would be far diminished. If they did not do it themselves then it would be seen as a severe flaw in their character, and a black mark in the Clan, making their ascent in the rankings difficult until they learned the necessary humility.


    Ruufarrl suspected that Dresiin, the smaller Red-furred one, would know what was needed. He had appeared to be the more contemplative and intelligent of the two. The question that remained was whether he or not he could either convince his fellow student, Yaanlith, of the need or step out from his shadow to do it himself.


    Either way, the two student¡¯s futures depended heavily upon their next actions.


    Ruufarrl¡¯s musings were interrupted by the call of the attendant. Shaking himself, he went over and secured their housing for the few short days they would remain on planet.


    _________________________________________________________


    -Conrad-


    The confrontation had done nothing to temper his enthusiasm at actually being on an alien world. For all his time working on the Dark Meridian he had never had the opportunity to go planetside. The closest he had come was to see a couple planets through a viewport on the larger trade/transport hub stations.


    He could look, but only from afar.


    It had nagged at that inner part of him that nearly all humans possessed in some regard. The explorer, the frontiersman, the pathfinder. The part of them that had pushed them to keep going outward.


    He had dearly wanted to see what those spinning, multi-hued and colored gems contained. But he had never had the chance.


    Until now, and he was going to make the most of it.


    ¡°Unfortunately, going on a Pub and Restaurant crawl simply isn¡¯t a viable option thanks to biological issues. I will have to do my own research and ask Ruufarrl if there is anything noteworthy to see or experience here. Juniel sits just outside of Flokian space, right on the border of Hendrian space. So, it should have some interesting multi-cultural opportunities, provided of course it works like Human territory lines do. Speaking of Hendrians¡­¡±


    Conrad quietly observed another of the reptilian aliens amble into the hotel with its luggage. The alien reminded him of a hybrid of a turtle and a pangolin. It had the broad head and flexible skin of turtles and the shiny segmented plating of a pangolin along it¡¯s back and outside of limbs with a short and wide, plated tail. The way it walked made him think of a long-legged penguin, which forced him to try and stifle a chuckle.


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Ruufarrl returned to him then and gestured for him to follow. Conrad gathered his things and did so, following him through the winding corridors and stairs of the hotel, which now seemed to be much larger than he had anticipated.


    They finally came to their room, and Ruufarrl gave him the keycode for the door before entering.


    ¡°It is good that our meeting went as it did. You did well, though I regret not being able to stop it before it happened. I have worked out some of the details with Loormar. The ship he was to be taking home is a direct transport craft. It will be another month and a half of travel, but there will be no stops, and it is the fastest we could reliably expect to come across.¡±


    ¡°That was most definitely nice of him. So¡­ Should I be expecting similar confrontations from here on out?¡±


    Ruufarrl chuffed in grim amusement, ¡°No. That shouldn¡¯t have happened regardless. That was brash and unaccountably reckless of them. You may not realize it, but you could have rightfully called for their heads as punishment. To be honest, if they had harmed you, Loormar or I may have taken them from them ourselves. Un-blooded Ruulothi Do Not physically accost Bloodclaws.¡±


    Conrad looked at him in alarm, ¡°Well, yeah, but¡­ They kinda had a point, didn¡¯t they? Has there never been someone who has stolen a Mantle or tried to pass themselves off as a Bloodclaw? Granted they didn¡¯t listen to the explanation, but someone has to have tried it in the past, right?¡±


    Ruufarrl sighed as he put his luggage down and sat on his bed, ¡°In rare occasions, yes. But never has an alien species been foolish enough to try. The number of outsider Bloodclaws has always been too few for them to be able to pass that off. It has always been a Ruulothi that attempted the subterfuge, for whatever reason. There have also been occasions of someone taking a Mantle as a trophy, usually from shipping raids where they killed the Ruulothi wearing it. But even they weren¡¯t fool enough to wear it themselves, and they have always been hunted down as a matter of course.¡±


    ¡°Ah, so they were just Gatekeeping then. So, I figure that we are going to rest some today to get on the local schedule, any other plans for the day we have left? I was wondering if there was anything in particular to see or do here in the bit of time that we have?¡±


    Ruufarrl considered for a time before huffing, ¡°I am not overly familiar with Hendrian customs. I know they get along well with the Flokians due to their diets, and there is some cultural overlap there because of it. They enjoy singing, but it isn¡¯t something most other species typically wish to hear. They prefer to keep things to a sedate pace and enjoying life on their own terms. Hmm. Perhaps we take a cue from them then. They are rather excellent builders and architects, and I believe they have architectural gardens where they display their works. We could tour those, or travel outside the city to view more natural sights. They have some mountain grottos that are popular tourist destinations.¡±


    ¡°Ooh, that sounds really good. But as much as I would like that, the architectural gardens sound really intriguing, and closer. What time are we meeting the others the day after?¡±


    ¡°We will be meeting them early in the morning at the shuttleport. Loormar wants to ensure there will be no issues with the changeover, so he wants to be there personally to hand us off to the ship¡¯s shuttle as well as for¡­ other reasons.¡±


    Conrad looked at him skeptically for a moment but didn¡¯t press the matter. ¡°Probably wouldn¡¯t tell me even if I asked.¡±


    ¡°Well, sounds like we are going to be busy. Best get to it then, yeah?¡± He looked out the small window into the brightly lit evening. ¡°I figure if we start trying to sleep now, then we should be on track to sync up with the local sun.¡±


    ¡°A fair assessment, I will greet you in the morning then.¡±


    With that, they both lay back and dimmed the lights to a comfortable level.


    _____________________________________________________________


    Their next day went surprisingly fast.


    He was doubly thankful for the drone because Ruufarrl had, if anything, undersold the Hendrian¡¯s skill as architects.


    Calling the displays a ¡°Garden¡± was a perfect description. Winding and twisting spires of metal created the shapes of trees, creatures and other creations. Some sought to emulate their inspirations, while others sought to put more of the creators themselves into their work. The works from this second group often appeared as though they were made from the Hendrian¡¯s scales, layered on top of one another into incredible and nearly mind-bending forms. All told the display area was nearly the size of the Benmore Gardens from back in Scotland, and just filled to the brim with structures, some of which you could even go up into and contained even more works.


    One piece, that looked as though it may have been intended as the center point of the garden, was actually the work of three cooperating architects that built into one another to create a viewing platform that allowed an elevated view of the surrounding area and works.


    The trip took the majority of the day and he felt as though he would need a full week to completely take in what was there, but he got an edge on it too.


    While on the viewing platform, he asked a caretaker if it would be possible to use his drone to capture an aerial view of the garden. He got permission so long as they were able to watch the footage that he took.


    When he was done though, they asked excitedly for a copy of the footage. It turned out that the caretaker was also one of the contributing architects, and they had never considered building something for how it would look from above as well as below. He happily shunted them a copy.


    They were up bright and early the next day and headed to the shuttle port first thing. Loormar¡¯s charges awaited them at the entry and sullenly escorted them around the usual customs stations and into a VIP area. There they were led to a boarding ramp where Loormar was speaking with the pilot of the shuttle, a Hendrian that wore crossed blue and gold sashes. Conrad had seen the garb on others around the planet and recognized them to be signifiers of authority. With Loormar¡¯s introductions, this was confirmed.


    ¡°This is Captain Noomdan Felsil Darum. He is the owner of the ¡°Gleaming Scar¡±, the vessel in which you will be departing, and an old friend of mine from my days abroad. Your possessions and luggage left in storage here have already been brought aboard. Here is a receipt, just in case we missed anything.¡±


    Ruufarrl double checked the list to ensure that nothing was being left behind, but everything was accounted for, including the container with Kiiroth¡¯s body.


    ¡°My thanks for expediting things.¡± He looked around curiously, ¡°But if I didn¡¯t know better, I would believe you to be trying to get rid of us.¡±


    Loormar chuffed, ¡°Were circumstances not what they are, you might be correct. You are tracking an important quarry; it is any true Hunter¡¯s duty to help you overcome obstacles and see it through¡­ For the Clans and the Huntwinds.¡±


    Ruufarrl tilted his head in acknowledgement, ¡°For the Clans and the Huntwinds.¡±


    Conrad listened intently and read between the lines. ¡°That is the first I have heard that expression, and he certainly seems to know, or at least suspect, the background of what we are dealing with here. I wonder if there is a political feud between Clan and City Folk. Ruufarrl mentioned that there was a difference between Clan and Centralized politics, and that the Centralized Politicians wouldn¡¯t necessarily welcome the news of my joining the Bloodclaws. I am kinda glad we bumped into these guys now.¡±


    He looked over at the other two, who had been introduced by Ruufarrl when they met out front. Yaanlith was still sulking and appeared to be doing his level best to completely ignore him. Dresiin on the other hand, was clearly paying attention, though he looked confused. He looked to Conrad as though he had picked up on the subtext of the Elder¡¯s conversation but didn¡¯t have the context to place it.


    Captain Darum made a metallic clapping sound, which took Conrad a moment to realize had come from his slapping his tail against his thighs.


    ¡°Well then, Gentlemen. I don¡¯t wish to rush you, but we do have a schedule to keep.¡±


    Ruufarrl gave him a small bow, ¡°Of course, Shipmaster. Please, lead the way.¡±


    As they filed onto the ramp Conrad heard a cough from behind him. Dresiin stood at the bottom of the ramp looking on edge. Rather than press him Conrad tilted his head in acknowledgement and curiosity, a Ruulothi gesture that seemed to give the youngblood the incentive he needed to speak.


    ¡°I¡­ My apologies for my actions the other day. They were inexcuseable.¡±


    ¡°Hey, no harm, no foul. Just kinda wished you guys had stopped for a just a minute. Could have avoided all of it.¡±


    ¡°This¡­ This is true. Thank you for your forgiveness. Safe travels.¡±


    Conrad nodded to him as he backed away from the ramp. Yaanlith still refused to acknowledge his existence and stood off to the side. ¡°Must not get taken down a peg very often. Oh, well.¡±


    He shrugged and turned to go up the ramp.


    ¡°Not my problem.¡±

 Chapter 16

    ?-Ruufarrl-


    "How long has it been since I have seen home? How long since I have seen the grand forests and smelled their bounty, since I have felt my own sun heat my fur and the winds blow through it? Most of that time was spent in space, in the measured and filtered life support systems of ships and stations. I had not realized just how homesick it made me until now, when I am so close to being home I feel as though I merely need to listen to hear the winds blow. Those other planets were nice, but they are not home."


    The final leg of their trip had gone quickly. The ship was a standard passenger transport, so the amenities had been favorable and the company amenable. There were even four other Ruulothi returning home on the same ship. Three of them were labor workers returning home from a job, and the fourth was a Scholar. None of them were Bloodclaws and they all seemed to be centralized city folk, but they still gave Ruufarrl and Conrad the deference that was their due, even if they were confused at the presence of a Human. The rest of the travelers were all familiar enough with the Ruulothi that they had no problems being around them or going through their space.


    All told this meant that they had no shortage of conversations waiting for them if they desired it.


    Conrad had no issues integrating with anyone and freely spoke with the other passengers. He seemed to not feel as pressured to ''fit in'' as they were essentially strangers in passing. Despite his willingness to mingle with the others over the course of the trip, Ruufarrl detected some sort of hesitation from the Human. "Likely a mix of trepidation and wariness. Worried about what is to come and who might be watching. All natural, given the circumstances. At least he is not jumping at shadows anymore."


    Ruufarrl himself had spoken at length with the other Ruulothi about current events in and around Ruulothi space. Nothing seemed too amiss in that regard, though there were a couple of border conflicts in the Greater Community that may require their deployment. As for the rest, it wasn''t so much what they said, but how they said it. They spoke of some things at home and abroad with a casual acceptance that would never have been seen a few years ago. It showed that certain factions had gained influence and general recognition. Not a good sign for his people in the times to come.


    His mental clock continued to tick down. They were in the Home System now, and only mere days from their destination. He fought to control himself, but it was hard. There was much to do and scant little time to get it done in. He was getting impatient.


    The Hunt Winds were shifting, and he did not like what he scented on them.


    _________________________________________________________________________


    -Conrad-


    "Huh, so that is what a Ruulothi looks like when they get ants in their pants."


    Ruuloth Prime, it turns out, is the GalCom designation for their home planet. They simply call it Ruuloth. The Prime was added when the Ruulothi joined the GalCom and adopted their planetary and navigational naming conventions. Which unimaginatively consisted of counting outward from the center of the named system, with Prime simply meaning a home world.


    They stood on the Space Station, awaiting transport to the surface. Unlike in the other stations he had been in recently, this one did not have a viewing platform as it was considered to be a structural risk. Ruuloth had a set of small rings around it and was on the inner edge of an asteroid field. Space debris and rogue rocks and ice were a valid concern. Though the formations that gave them the hazards had also given the Ruulothi a vast bounty of infrastructure. It also had two very small, but mineral rich moons that fed that same infrastructure, though they were really little more than two super sized asteroids. They didn''t even have the gravity or core to form themselves into a proper spherical shape.


    The planet itself was one of two major celestial bodies that had been made habitable, Ruuloth and Verrdinaat. While Ruuloth was their home world, Verrdinaat was a terraformed and atmo-seeded large moon around another planet.


    Verrdinaat orbited around a gaseous planet on the inner edge of their Habitable Belt, the next planet in from Ruuloth. This inner gas planet, Lonsiin, was too small to be considered a Jovian by Human standards, but it''s gravity well, weather patterns, atmosphere and winds prevented it from being anything but a Gas Planet. Lonsiin was tilted away from the system''s sun, absorbing and deflecting the radiation that would fry the inhabited moon, which orbited rapidly above the tilted "crown" of the planet. This congruence of circumstances meant that there was a permanent day and night on the poles of the moon and some wildly powerful electrical storms. Most of Verrdinaat''s population lived underground because of this phenomenon. The buildings there still followed the Ruulothi customary architecture but were built to endure and draw the power surges of the lightning strikes away from the vitals of the structure.


    There were, of course, other lunar and planetary colonies in system that required habitation domes, a fairly large Station City in the nearby asteroid belt, and at least six other star systems worth of planets and colonies. But they were not here for those planets or those colonies. They were here for Ruuloth, the home of the Ruulothi people and seat of their government.


    Which he had yet to lay eyes on.


    Right now what he was seeing was Ruufarrl pacing a path into the floor, hands behind his back and fidgeting.


    It was an amusing enough sight, and it helped Conrad to get his mind off his own butterflies. But he kept his composure. They weren''t only there for a pleasant visit, and he wasn''t one to make light of that. It was nearly time for him to take the lead, so to speak. Nearly time to give humanity a shot at the Galactic stage. Nearly time to attempt to thwart the immortal ambitions of a Shadow Cabal with near infinite resources. Nearly time... for a funeral.


    Every time he started to get ahead of himself he remembered that. They were also here to see off his dead friend, to return him home.


    He looked over at the cargo crate for probably the tenth time since they had disembarked and Ruufarrl had started pacing, "Almost there, Kiiroth. You''re nearly home. Just a few more minutes."


    The other Ruulothi that had returned with them merely kept their distance. They didn''t know him that well, so they weren''t sure if he was prone to outbursts. Better to be safe than a potential target.


    Eventually, their wait ended and they boarded the shuttle down. Rather, they boarded the small inter-system ferry ship, which then took them down to the surface as a part of its route.


    Ruulothi Customs had started at the Space station, as soon as they exited the ship. The Customs Officer was the first Ruulothi that Conrad had seen that hadn''t reacted in any way to his presence or honorific. He was simply a straight-laced professional that accepted the information that was given to him without judgement. The only thing of Conrad''s that he raised an eyebrow at were his tools and parts kits. But after checking through them for anything hidden, he marked them off and moved on.


    He had taken on a different mannerism when Ruufarrl admitted to having Kiiroth''s remains in the cargo container. After verifying and streamlining the paperwork the Customs Officer had made a call and assured Ruufarrl that appropriate measures would be waiting them on the ground.?


    The trip down was far smoother than any other planetary entry he had been on thus far, likely due to the extra mass of the Ferry absorbing the vibrations and wind shear. This ship also had no windows or viewing ports. So, even though they had technically made landfall, he still had no idea what the place looked like.


    The moment the ship touched down and the boarding light turned green the others in the ship stood up and filed out of the seating area. When Conrad made to do the same Ruufarrl held his arm out and motioned for him to stay seated. A few minutes later and they were airborne again.


    Judging from the directional velocity and acceleration pattern they weren''t going back to orbit, but were instead traveling to a different port on the same planet. It took them roughly an hour to touch down again, and this time Ruufarrl signaled that they would be leaving.


    But instead of exiting the boarding ramp like before, they were escorted down into a cargo area to collect their things and then to a bay door in the back of the craft. Almost forgetting, Conrad activated the camera on the drone just as the lock clicked open and the door seal hissed.


    The doors buzzed open with a soft whirring of gears and mechanisms, folding outward to let in warm orange light and dry air. As the heat from the day flooded in he saw Ruufarrl take in a deep breath before sighing in satisfaction. He looked to Conrad and gave him a nod, then turned and pushed the Grav-cart with their cargo out the door and into the daylight. Conrad took a final look around to ensure that they had collected everything and followed, getting his first glimpse of Ruuloth.


    It was very... red.


    In retrospect, he supposed that made sense. He had only ever seen one Ruulothi that didn''t have some sort of Rust or Red color somewhere on them, and Loormar had been Black with a little bit of Tan. Still a camouflaging coat color if ever there was one. But he wasn''t mentally prepared for the vast array of reds that he saw.


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    Ruuloth seemed to be a planet that thrived on red in the was that Earth and N. Rios thrived on greens. The leaves and the grass, the bushes and ferns were all in some form a red hue. Some were darker than others, some had a little bit more of a different color such as orange or purple or splashes of green to give them highlights, but it was all beautiful in the same way that his own planet was. It actually reminded him of what a warm autumn would look like, with everything taking subtle golden orange highlights and reflections from the sun.


    The sky was still blue with white clouds at least. Though unless something was chemically off with the atmosphere, that really wasn''t likely to change.


    As he looked out into the distance he saw copses of trees with light brown and gray trunks and wide, red canopies and tall roots that sheltered entire buildings. If they were to the scale that they appeared to be, they easily competed to be among the tallest trees mankind had found. They looked to him like some sort of giant mangrove, but without the swamp. The dirt that he could see was a dark, almost burnt orange color and the water in the river to his left reflected the orange/red of the silt and sand beneath it to create a purple on the edges that faded to the more recognizable blue that he was familiar with.


    "There will be plenty of time for sightseeing, Conrad. Let''s clear the pad so that they may return to their duties."


    Conrad started from his reverie and chased after him, "Right, sorry."


    "There is no need to apologize. This is the first world you have seen that does not follow the typical color pattern, correct?"


    "It is. I didn''t expect it to be so... I think the appropriate term is ''Strange, yet jarringly familiar''?"


    Ruufarrl chuckled at this, "That it is."


    He continued to lead them to the building at the edge of the pad. As they neared it and cleared the danger zone around the pad, the Ferry''s engines spooled up again. Conrad turned to look and got his first view of the bird that had brought them down. It followed all the known rules of aerospace engineering and had a long, wide sweeping fuselage dotted with control thruster ports with wide, delta shaped wings. Its tail had a horizontal crossbar and an upper and lower swept fin on either side of a twin nacelle engine, and the nose had a collection of four more fins that he believed to be computer-controlled stabilizers of some sort. The shoulders of the wings had their own engine nacelles, which were currently pointing upwards while it sat on extremely fat wheeled landing gear.


    As the engines spooled up he could see the exhaust ports flaring and shifting in direction as the pilot dialed up the thrust. Soon after it floated up on a heated cushion of air and slowly flew forward until it gained the momentum necessary to shift the wing nacelles into primary thrust, and then it simply took off and was gone from view in a few scant seconds.


    After the ship left Conrad resumed following Ruufarrl, who did not seem to mind the brief delay and had watched with a mildly amused look on his face. Ruufarrl led them to the service building, and they were met by two clearly military or security Ruulothi exiting the building in what could only be described as a uniform.


    Ruulothi in general did not wear much in the way of fabric, usually deigning to only wear short pants that fit their slightly digitigrade legs, mantles and some sort of utility harness that allowed them pockets and carrying capacity.


    These two wore matching black pants with angled red piping, wide harnesses made with a strange looking red leather with filled holsters for a curved knife and short carbine that lay along their leg. Their harnesses also included a section across their chest that said several somethings in Ruulothi script, which looked like various claw marks vaguely reminiscent of ancient human languages written on clay tablets. On their forearms they wore what appeared to be armored bracers of some sort, which also both doubled as personal wrist-links and a head piece that looked as though it was designed for personal communication.


    "Odd, no armor, outside of the bracers anyway. Come to think of it, I haven''t really seen ANY security force wear recognizable armor like human police do. I wonder why that is? Is it too expensive or are weapons not that common? One would think that among the Ruulothi, weapons would be available, and they have their claws and teeth... Oh, wait. What was it he said about those that harm others? They get exiled to the worst parts of the planet? So, it must be a cultural thing then. Hmm, not sure what that really says about <u>us</u> though."


    Ruufarrl spoke with them briefly and they waved another older Ruulothi out of the building. If it wasn''t for the age and slight fading grays creeping in around his muzzle, he would have been the spitting image of Kiiroth. Conrad straightened as the newcomer nodded at Ruufarrl before looking down at the container with a mixture of emotions. He never said anything as he took the grav-cart from him and went away with the two guards. Two more Security types took their place after they re-entered the building.


    Ruufarrl looked back at Conrad and sighed, "That was his father, Kiiyoor. They will take him to his family to prepare for the funeral, which will likely be on the Day of Remembrance in a couple of days. Don''t let his silence get to you. Kiiroth was their only child, and they have been waiting a long time for him to come home¡­ You will likely see another side of him the day after. For that is Founding Day, and it is a day of celebration."


    ¡°You have a Day of Mourning and a Day of Celebration right after one another?¡±


    ¡°We do. The Day of Remembrance is for all the tragedies from the year before. Founding Day is to celebrate the opportunities of the next year and the gifts and joys of the previous.¡±


    He turned back to the guards briefly and tilted his head, one of them nodded to him and they both stepped sideways to allow them room to walk past. Ruufarrl waved his arm to Conrad, "But enough of that talk. Come, there are many more sights to see. We are a guest of the Clan while we stay here and will be afforded every opportunity to get the full experience."


    He took a deep breath as he walked by the escorts and looked around once more at the scenery that wasn''t blocked by the buildings surrounding the landing pad. "It is good to be home again."


    ___________________________________________________________________________


    Their escorts led them through the complex surrounding the Shuttle Port, passing many Ruulothi, and a few other aliens, that were working on the premises. Their path eventually brought them to a vehicle garage where they were led to a waiting vehicle. Ruufarrl gave them a gesture of thanks and they turned and left them with their vehicle.


    "Does everybody get an escort?"


    "Everyone who lands at a Clan''s Port, yes. It is just a way of verifying that they are who they said they were, double checking those they are with, and a sign of respect and station. Only those on Clan business are allowed to use a Clan''s personal Port. All others must make use of the public Shuttle Ports in the cities."


    "And this is ours for the trip? Or is it an automatic one like you spoke of before?"


    "Yes to both. It is automated and has been provided for us for the duration of our stay. Given that you do not yet know the names of our destinations or our language, I will be providing the travel input, as you did for me on your world. Shall we?"


    Ruufarrl waved his arm at the vehicle for him to enter. Thus far, everything that Conrad had seen had been at least passingly familiar as designs that adhered to the rules of physics more than that of aesthetics. This vehicle, now that they were getting to things that were more personal in nature, was the first departure from that ideal that he had seen.


    The main body was an angular teardrop shape, wider in the front and narrower in the back with a stabilizing fin/landing strut jutting out the dorsal and ventral surfaces of the rear. A wing of some sort came out of the center of the nose and swept back to where the stabilizer fins started where it terminated against the main body. The wing was attached to the body for it''s entirety, almost like a child''s floatie ring. A large dual pane window was installed at the front of the craft, and two smaller windows ran down the sides of the craft, allowing the occupants the luxury of seeing all around them. Just behind the primary front windows was a gull wing style entry hatch on either side of the vehicle.


    If anything, it reminded Conrad of a Horseshoe Crab or a Stingray. Not at all the kind of thing he had imagined that the Ruulothi would prefer. "But then again, it is a very practical and minimalist design. Those wings don''t look like they''d do much, but I am sure there is some sort of safety or other type of tech that gives it function beyond its appearance."


    He looked at the doors then paused, "I, uhh, I don''t see an entry button."


    Ruufarrl tilted his head in confusion and looked at the car himself. "Ah, right. You humans tend to make such things obvious and mechanical." He pointed at a small logo on the door, "There, it is a surface sensor that detects pressure, biometrics and the presence of a wrist terminal. Place your hand on it and key the terminal prompt."


    Conrad followed the instructions tentatively. He wasn''t entirely sure that it would work, but it did slowly make the connection to his own wrist-link. He was forced to stop again as the prompt came up in Ruulothi Dialect. Chuckling to himself at his own misstep, Ruufarrl stepped in and pointed to the correct icon, "That one. It says Uungar, which means Open."


    He made mental note of the pattern of the character as he hit it, just in case. The door latch clicked, then hissed as the pressures equalized. Conrad stepped back as the door swung up and out revealing a six-seat cabin with one seat in front and back, and two on either side. Conrad got in and made himself comfortable. Each seat had its own five-point harness, so he hooked in while waiting for Ruufarrl to work the computer. A few short moments later and the car hummed to life, floated up off the ground and smoothly began to move forward.


    It took only a few seconds to exit the garage through an open bay door, and then Conrad was swept back into his seat as the car pitched up to go over what looked to be a ridgeline on the far side of the Port. As the vehicle leveled out again Ruufarrl turned in his chair, leaned back and waved his arm at the windows, "Welcome, Conrad, to the Nightmane Clan Holds."


    Conrad suddenly found himself very grateful for the abundance of viewing options.


    The view of the other side of the ridge was... spectacular.


    A deep forest swept from the base of the ridgeline out into the distance where it frayed out into fields. The river that he had seen before was now on his right, having come down a waterfall off the ridgeline. The forest stood on the other side of it as well and continued on as far as the eye could see in that direction.


    Downriver a large town or small city could be seen, likely the Nightmane Clan Hold proper. The buildings designed in a way that emulates them having been built around the trunk of a tree, looking for all the world like giant circular treehouses made of a light tan stone and red canvas. Bracing spars flared out from the bottoms of the building core, and what looked like angular canvas wind covers stuck out from above the windows. Each of the buildings had spire like objects on top of them, though what these could be, Conrad had no idea. A few even had gardens or recreation areas on their roofs.


    Each of the buildings looked as though they had other, slightly smaller buildings in their shadows, making the most of the dead space in between the raised cores of the buildings and the ground. Instead of the straight, segmented road plans that Conrad was familiar with, the roads here wound like snakes between and around the various buildings. Like paths worn into the forest floor. At the ground level were various parking zones, yards and gardens tucked in under the canopied buildings. A tributary of the river wound through a part of the town, small gardens and foot bridges looped over and around it.


    Residences seemed to follow the same design layout as the other buildings, but they were often much smaller and tended to include far more personal touches that the commercial and business buildings with larger yard spaces.


    It took Conrad a moment to key into it, but something seemed off about the whole thing, like something was missing from the picture. He thought about it as they flew, heading towards a cluster of buildings at the top of a hill. It wasn''t until his wrist link flickered his bedtime alarm that it hit him. There was no advertising. No billboards, no neon lights or flashing signs or traffic lights. The town was clean of distractions, almost sanitized in its appearance now that he was paying attention to it. Then he realized that wasn''t entirely the case. There were signs, but they were made to be obvious to ground traffic while blending in otherwise. Large poles with angular red canvas flags of Ruulothi script going down them stood in predetermined locations, giving the necessary directions to walkers and riders on the ground.


    Ruufarrl interrupted his sightseeing with a soft question. "What do you think?"


    "It looks so peaceful... and beautiful. But I am not sure I would be able to figure out your roads without a lot of practice. Your forests almost remind me of jungles, but it doesn''t seem as though things get that wet here. Is this a mostly dry area?"


    Ruufarrl gave him a knowing smile, "The roads would take some getting used to, considering you are used to mostly straight lines. But in all honesty, they are not that difficult to learn. Well, not if you can read the signs, at least.  The weather is dry, yes. Most of the vegetation either stores its own water or steals from other sources. The trees'' roots go very deep, into the underground aquifers. We also tap into them, to bring water up for our crops and gardens if there isn''t a source available on the surface. It rains only a few times a year."


    The car was slowing down now and looked to be coming in for a landing at the hilltop residences. Conrad looked out the window to see a collection of the recognizable guards and other figures on an open yard area in front of the buildings.


    "Ahh, it looks as though my niece and her family are ready to meet us."


    "Not your son and his family?"


    Ruufarrl gave him a short sigh and a small smile, "No, the duties of a Clan Head are many, even more in this day and age. We will meet him at the ceremony for sure, and perhaps sooner if the winds blow our way, but I will not expect him. I installed a bedroom at the Hearing Hall during my tenure for a reason. It would be entirely too much to impose upon them as hosts. But, be prepared to talk. Naarviix is a glutton for new things. If you are not careful, she may spirit away your Portable Terminal when you are not looking. She loves learning new things so."


    The car had landed and stopped, and Ruufarrl stood at the door.


    "Are you ready?"

 Chapter 17

    -Conrad-


    ¡°I suppose I am about as ready as I am going to be. Lead on¡±


    Ruufarrl nodded and opened the door, letting in a gentle breeze that smelled faintly of spice or incense, Conrad wasn¡¯t entirely sure which.


    The group that stood waiting for them consisted of four guards, two adult Ruulothi and two young Ruulothi. It was the first time that Conrad had seen both a Ruulothi cub and a Ruulothi female. As they approached the two groups of Ruulothi broke out into an emotionally charged discourse in their own language. Conrad took the opportunity to quietly observe them closer.


    The cubs looked like little more than smaller versions of the adults, which was to be expected as that was the norm across the vast majority of known species. They stood next to and, in the young male¡¯s case, slightly behind what must be their parents in the center of the formation.


    Those two adults looked to be the Heads of the House, Naarviix and her husband/mate. Now that he was seeing Ruulothi females he noticed that the differences were small and subtle, outside of one very obvious difference common to mammalian creatures. The female¡¯s ears looked to be rounder than the male¡¯s ears, but on closer inspection they instead simply did not have the extended tuft at the peak of the ear.


    Naarviix was slightly larger than her mate, and of a sable-rust coloring rather than the bolder reds and blacks he had become accustomed to seeing. Her daughter appeared to share her coloring, though if this was due to genetics or an attribute of females in general, he had no way of knowing.


    In terms of general physical build and features, they were nearly identical to the males, though the two females stood and moved in a slightly different manner, likely due to a difference in their hip structures, much like human females.


    Finally, was the most obvious difference. Both females wore coverings across their chest. The younger appeared to do so as a matter of course and civility, while Naarviix had very clear, recognizable, and identifiable breasts to cover.


    ¡°There must be a biological advantage for walking bipedal creatures to develop in this way. Probably as it makes transport and care of young easier than if their nurturing organs were in their abdomen like on four legged animals. Given that even now we really know nothing of our progenitor evolutions beyond ¡®Primate derived¡¯ and ¡®possibly aquatic in origin¡¯ it makes me wonder if we went through a period when becoming bipedal where that changed for us out of evolutionary convenience.¡±


    He was shaken from his thoughts when Ruufarrl called for him. He looked up to see his mentor with a smirk on his face, ¡°Observe, Naarviix, I told you that he was like you. Always getting lost in thought and staring off into the winds.¡±


    ¡°I see indeed, Uncle.¡±


    Naarviix¡¯s voice was softer and smoother than those of the males he had met, and was a higher pitch, but not as significantly as humans were.


    ¡°What exactly was it that distracted you so much, Mr. Conrad?¡± Her voice was sweet, but direct.


    Conrad had a brief heart attack at her words. ¡°Shit! Was I staring! Wait, no. I couldn¡¯t have been. I had to look up at Ruufarrl, so I must have default to staring at the ground¡­ Oh thank God.¡±


    Panic attack averted, he collected himself and decided to be honest, but shorthanded. ¡°Evolution.¡±


    Ruufarrl tilted his head in, knowing that he was likely making the inevitable comparisons between their species and worlds as it was a conversation that had come up multiple times already. But Naarviix did not relent so easily.


    ¡°Truly? An odd subject to get distracted by during a potentially pivotal meeting. Tell me, if this is where your mind rests now, what do you see in Ruulothi evolution? How did we come about?¡±


    Conrad looked about him as he considered. He looked to the sky and turned to look out into the distance at the forest and their architecture. He reflected on what he knew about the Ruulothi Culture and Customs and what little bit Ruufarrl had told him about the environment of their home world on the trip over.


    ¡°You came from Arboreal Cats of some sort. Being predatory your fur came to take on the colors of your surroundings, and your claws remained strong in order to facilitate climbing and living in the trees. Given your eventual size, it is likely that you lived in the lower root sections more than the canopies, which not only made it easier to reach the ground to hunt, but to reach the other resources that you needed. This is also supported by the way your arms articulate and are more limited in motion in comparison to my own. Rather than swing through the branches, you climbed on the lower exposed roots. It also means you likely evolved opposable thumbs before you became bipedal. Due in part to your predatory natures, but also due to the limited availability of natural resources like water due to your weather, you became a warrior species so that you could hold onto the necessities by any means. This led to tribal and clan social structures necessitated by the need to band together for survival. Practices which still persist to this day.


    As technology progressed you no longer needed to compete for necessary resources and slowly started to band yourselves together into one people to prevent the destruction of resources in war. Your architecture takes on the look of hunting blinds built into your great trees, and from what I can see here your civilization seems to be all put together with a reverence and respect to the world around you. Rather than conquering your world and thriving in spite of it, you learned to live supported by it and each other. Which probably also points to either a lack or rarity of true predatory threats outside of yourselves.¡±


    He ended by tilting his head and looking Naarviix straight in the eyes. The reactions among those with her, even the normally stoic guards, was one of surprise. Naarviix¡¯s eyes widened and she sniffed as she settled back. She looked at Ruufarrl suspiciously.


    ¡°Did you coach him?¡±


    Her uncle snorted in amusement, ¡°Not at all. But I do recall mentioning that he was a quick study.¡±


    Stolen novel; please report.


    She narrowed her eyes at him some more, then smiled widely and began to laugh happily.


    ¡°Uncle, you do bring me such wonderful gifts.¡± She clapped her hands together as she leaned towards Conrad, ¡°Oh, this is going to be so much fun! Please, Mr. Conrad, this is my mate Huurnsul and my children Riinjaal and Luviix. Welcome to our home, and welcome to Ruuloth. Please forgive our rudeness earlier. It has been a long time since we last saw my uncle and I am afraid that we let our emotions get the better of us.¡±


    Conrad smiled back at her, both glad that he had not done anything improper himself and in response to  her naturally bubbly nature and concern, ¡°There is no need at all to apologize, I understand completely.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. Please, let us get you both inside and settled, then we can talk more before lunch is prepared. I suspect that you will both be need to sleep early, yes?¡± While she spoke, Conrad saw that her mate was quietly translating the conversations for their children. He had originally thought he was the quiet type, but then realized that he had his hands full making sure the children weren¡¯t neglected as the conversation was conducted in GalStan.


    Ruufarrl nodded, ¡°Indeed. We are currently running over on our normal night schedule.¡±


    ¡°Well, I suppose that I will have to keep myself in check a little longer then.¡± Naarviix seemed to pout a bit. ¡°But I am expecting you two to give me in depth details on everything that you have experienced.¡±


    She turned and gave Conrad another grin, ¡°Especially from you, Matron Slayer. Ah, which reminds me.¡± She stopped and faced Conrad directly before crossing her arms and bowing to him, ¡°Thank you for saving this ratty old Feral¡¯s life, so that he may return home again.¡±


    ¡°Naarviix¡­¡± Ruufarrl sighed, ¡°Language.¡±


    ¡°What, are you denying it?¡±


    Ruufarrl tilted his head briefly, ¡°No, but there are children present.¡±


    ¡°They have not yet learned GalStan, so there is no need to worry, unless someone is translating everything?¡± She turned and looked pointedly at her mate.


    Huurnsul laughed at her, his voice a rich bass, ¡°Relax Naarvi, I do not have a death wish.¡±


    Naarviix turned to give Ruufarrl a triumphant look, ¡°See, it is just fine.¡±


    He simply shook his head and chuckled at her antics. ¡°I see very little has changed in my time away.¡± He gave her a soft smile in return, ¡°I am glad.¡±


    She sniffed imperiously, ¡°You should be.¡±


    Naarviix continued to lead them through the manor, finally stopping at the end of a hall with a number of doors. She pointed out two of them as she turned to her guests, ¡°These are the rooms that we have prepared for you. Please get unpacked and comfortable. Lunch will be in the Hall in another thirty minutes. Uncle, I assume you remember where it is?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    Ruufarrl¡¯s response was simple, on the surface at least. But Conrad could see that his face promised retribution for the implied slight on his age and mental state.


    She merely smirked at him as she turned and collected her family, speaking softly to them in their natural language. She nodded at her mate and they ushered the cubs down the hall.


    Conrad turned to Ruufarrl once they were gone, ¡°Well, she is certainly outspoken and says what is on her mind.¡±


    Ruufarrl grunted, ¡°Sometimes a little too much so. She has a great mind, but not the desire to temper her interactions. She wants what she wants and then goes to get it, winds be damned.¡±


    He paused and then smiled, ¡°But that is what makes her unique, and we wouldn¡¯t have it any other way.¡±


    He waved at the rooms and Conrad nodded before turning to his and entering.


    It was¡­ Spartan.


    There were no decorations, no bookshelves, nor anything else extra. There was only a bed with integrated drawers, a table, terminal and chair, the window and another door that led to a sanitation pod. He had expected this as Ruufarrl had explained that Ruulothi don¡¯t really spring for such things beyond certain very specific considerations unless exorbitantly wealthy, but seeing it still surprised him.


    Well, he supposed the lighting was fancy enough. The illumination sconces that came out of the walls reminded him of old candelabras.


    Conrad set about prepping his room. He wasn¡¯t yet sure just how long he was going to be here, but it did not make much sense to live out of his bags, so he put his clothing and other items into the drawers. His PT he placed on the table and set it up to charge. He also put his work tools/components down next to the table, ready for easy access or just tinkering in case he got bored.


    He looked wistfully at the bed, realizing now just how tired he was. But turned away from it and left the room to meet Ruufarrl.


    The hallways of the Manor were a series of interlinked rings that included stairs to different levels, and Conrad realized that they had been given rooms on the outside ring so as to have windows. Something that he presumed to be a gesture of respect.


    It actually wasn¡¯t as difficult as he had thought to catch on to the layout. The higher up one went, the more personal the rooms became, with the family rooms being on the highest of floors, and furthest out from the ¡°Trunk¡± of the building, giving them the best view of their ¡°Territory¡± and leaving them the furthest from any danger that may come from below.


    Ruufarrl led him towards the center of the Manor, then up two flights of stairs and back out to the outer ring, opening a set of double doors at the end of their trek.


    The room that he walked into was expansive and grand, the equal to any Great Hall from the annals of Humanity¡¯s history.


    The outer wall was a bank of windows, letting in the soft orange sunlight throughout the room. Long polished wood tables that were curved to the profile of the room took up the floor space. Two large fireplaces sat on the inner wall, spaced evenly down the length of it. Above them sat trophies in rows and columns, much like in any hunter¡¯s lodge. Animal heads, captured weapons, at least one that looked to be a Mech arm of some sort, a couple pairs of crossed Clantor claws and various awards ran the length of the inner wall.


    This then, wasn¡¯t simply their Feasting Hall or Grand Hall. This was their primary Hall of Attainment. The place where they went to not only show off the prowess of their Clans¡¯ hunters to outsiders, but where they went to share their grand stories, remember their past and, possibly, to commune silently with the spirits of their ancestors. It was equal parts Shrine, Trophy Room, Dining Hall and Meeting Hall.


    It was one of the few places that a Ruulothi would pull out all the stops to make as grand as possible. It was also one of two. This was their Public Hall, and the place where they displayed their current House Member¡¯s accomplishments and the Greatest from their Clan¡¯s history. There would be a second in an inner ring where they displayed their historical trophies along all walls.


    He was so distracted by the room itself that he missed that his hosts were already sitting at the tables until Ruufarrl stepped past him to greet them. Hoping that he hadn¡¯t come across as rude, he followed quietly behind.


    Their conversation was light, mostly just Ruufarrl getting reacquainted with them and proper introductions. It seemed that Naarviix was going easy on them and was holding herself back with the understanding that they were exhausted.


    Naarviix explained that she works as a researcher and scholar and tries her best to stay out of the Politics associated with the Clan, something that even she admitted she was ill qualified for given her personality. Huurnsul was a civil engineer and held some responsibility for maintaining and planning the expansions and new construction of the Clan Hold.


    Lunch was mostly what Conrad expected. A selection of meats and grains. What surprised him was that they also included some very soft fruits, slightly smaller than apples and with a taste that reminded him of wine.


    His interest in the trophy wall had not gone unnoticed, and Naarviix promised to tell him the stories associated with them if he desired. But the stories would be for another day, as she directed them to return to their rooms and sleep.


    As soon as he was back in his room Conrad crashed onto the bed and fell into a deep sleep.

 Chapter 18

    -Conrad-?


    "So, you are saying that for all the time Humanity has existed, for all its mythologies and crazy stories of alien visitors, you never actually met an alien species until you crossed the Expanse and stumbled into Klendigal? space?"


    "Well, nothing intelligent that would reveal themselves to us at least, and no places where any such species had obviously once lived. In the centuries since we had left Earth many people had given hope and just believed that we were it. They wanted us to slow down our expansion to focus on developing new technologies for improving and utilizing what we had. Others stayed true to our explorer natures and wound up developing the engines and ships that got us to your community."


    ?Naarviix looked at him askance as she read between the lines of what he said, "Do your differences in direction and desire always wind-up becoming tech races?"


    Conrad smiled and gave a non-committal shrug, "Ehh, usually. If we aren''t actively looking for a new Horizon, we are looking to move it. We found out a long time ago that the puzzle we were completing with the sciences was little more than the corner piece to a much larger puzzle. Once we figured that out our drive to discover more just got wilder with the possibilities. We take any excuse we can to further our understanding of things and breach new concepts and ideas."


    "A race that does it all. If someone had said such a thing before humans showed up they would have been laughed out of the room." She chuckled at Conrad''s confused expression, "Allow me to re-word that. All races that make it to spacefaring have the capacity to adapt and handle things for themselves. But due to how their histories made them develop, most find themselves specialized towards certain aspects more than others. Your people seem to be an extreme exception to this rule, adapting with wild abandon to anything and everything that comes your way.


    Hmm, come to think of it, something you said when we first met certainly fits here. ''Learned to live with your environment rather than thrive in spite of it?'' Is that how humanity evolved? Fighting fang and claw for every inch of ground?"


    "Heh, pretty much. In our earliest days it was a fight against the elements and hostile megafauna. After we eradicated the sources of our night terrors and other natural predators and banded together to prevent free attacks from the more manageable predators that we shared space with, our only real enemies were the planet and one another. Severe storms, environmental disasters, wars, plagues and disease, famine, drought. Every season there was a new challenge to overcome. So, we learned how to beat them, and we learned fast. Fighting each other as much as we fought the planet. Like you were saying, our adaptability came from our history and planet. We just... took it personally when our planet tried to kill us and made it a point of contention and pride to survive with the best results we could. To put it into some sort of perspective; that other colony you all have in this system that you only ask for volunteers to live on, Verrdinaat? We would consider it to be a tourist destination and would seek to live there simply for some exotic variety and to revel in the beauty of the storms. Honestly, it isn''t far off from Venus in all respects, the second planet of our Home System that we also seeded and terraformed. Just more pretty lightning and less oppressive heat."


    Naarviix shook her head slowly in amazement, "And to think that you were left all alone in your little corner of the galaxy. I hope the Council can be made to see reason and potential. When I first heard that my uncle had once again put our Clan into the Political Traazol nest I was... angry, among other things. What I heard after tempered my anger somewhat. But now, after our conversations the last few days... now I am excited and hopeful."


    "Well, given your job and station, I suppose that is only natural. You are a child of a ruling Clan, and they come first. But then, among your people at least, you would be the type that sees things in a similar manner to us. New possibilities and all that. Either way, I have my work cut out for me and it is something that will take time. I still need to prove beyond existing preconceptions that my people are more than what we were presented as. Changing minds set with that idea is going to take a long time, if they ever get changed at all."


    "You won''t be alone in that endeavor; others will take up the cause from behind the scenes. But remember, this is now about politics. If someone makes it seem as though there is a tangible benefit for those who are skeptical, then even the deepest roots will pull."


    Conrad smiled widely at her, "And here I thought you didn''t play politics."


    Naarviix sniffed in derision, "I don''t, but that doesn''t mean that I can''t learn how to do it well."


    Conrad''s laughter got her chuckling as well, "Better to have it and not need it, right?"


    She smiled at this, "The prepared hunter is the wise hunter. So similar, so close." She paused a moment in contemplation before continuing, "Yes, I think once all is considered, the benefits will far outweigh the concerns."


    She picked up one of the small fruits that had been presented with Conrad''s first lunch as her guest, "You have already shown skill in identifying enterprises. These Chaba fruits, you are certain that they will be a prime export?"


    "As certain as I can be without being an expert in that field. They already taste like wine, so I have zero doubt that once fermented they will make a potently flavorful alcohol. I''ve been doing some small tests with drying the seeds also, and they might well be useful for some sort of spice or flavoring in themselves."


    "Alcohol and spices... Your species desires these compounds?"


    Conrad smiled at her, "If there is one thing we could possibly like more than finding new things, it''s our recreation. No colony is considered complete until they have their own brand of beer or wine, and nearly everyone loves enhanced food or cooking. Put those in the right hands and your business will practically take care of itself."


    She smiled back as she mulled the possibilities, then took a bite out of the fruit, "I think I might hold onto this bit of information, keep it as a Watcher in the Shadows until the time truly arrives. Thank you, for your introspection and foresight."


    Naarviix checked her wristlink. She looked up at him as though she were to say something but was interrupted by the doors of the Hall opening. ?Ruufarrl entered the room and waved as he approached.


    "Uncle, your timing is impeccable. We were just finishing our conversation."


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Good, then it is time to leave. The funeral will be starting shortly."


    Conrad stood to follow, as did Naarviix, and he nervously checked himself again.


    "You are sure I don''t have to change? I am used to funerals being much more formal."


    Ruufarrl chuffed and smiled before answering, "There is no need to present yourself as anything other than what you are. It is a ritual, yes, but we are not a part of it, we are merely observers. We wear what we normally would."


    "Not that I am complaining, I hate getting dressed up anyway. Just seems odd to me. But that is my own culture speaking. ''Put on your best face to show respect and consideration for the dead and those around you.'' vs. ''Just be yourself, the dead know who you are. This is their send-off, not ours.'' Honestly, I think I prefer the second method. It has its own way of showing respect to the dead, recognizing that they and their spirits were intelligent, made their own choices, and were more than just what was left in the box. Then again, Ruulothi don¡¯t wear much to being with."


    Conrad had the layout of the places he was allowed down by this point. Over the last few days his hosts had given him a tour of the Town, Manor and Grounds, and had allowed him to move about unescorted in the manor provided he respected their privacy. So today he followed Ruufarrl out to the skycar not out of need, but merely because he happened to be in front of him.


    He also had a rough idea of where they were going, but the controls of the car and the Ruulothi language still confounded him. Trying to learn to read the glyphs was like trying to learn biochemistry. It was just straight memorization, and utterly tedious. Single glyphs for concepts, actions and nouns weren''t too bad, things like "Open" or "Door". It was when things started getting strung together that they got wonky for him. It didn''t help that they weren''t phonetically paired with the actual spoken word either, the sounds of which were their own unique ball of wax. Though the glyphs were more akin to patterned and geometric claw marks, trying to learn them was almost like trying to learn to read the visualizations of molecules as words.


    He didn''t see himself becoming conversant or literate in their language any time soon.


    Their path had taken them to the vehicle bay, where their car and the rest of Naarviix''s family waited. Kiiroth''s family were considered to be something akin to trusted vassals of the Nightmane ruling family, so they would all be going to pay their respects.


    Their trip through the evening sky of the Hold showed just how quiet things were. There was hardly anyone on the streets, the only lights he saw were those of residential buildings. In some places he saw small gatherings of citizens around these residences or on the rooftop rec areas.


    ¡°Even humans are more active on their days of remembrance. Is this something unique to the Ruulothi, or is it a Community wide thing? I feel like it is more a Ruulothi thing, with their cultural focus on Honor and Respect, but now isn¡¯t the time to ask.¡±


    The car took them to the fringes of the main hold and arrowed in on what looked to be a type of ranch on the outskirts. From their elevated position he could see some people working on and around a tall, wooden pillar set out in an open field. On top of the pillar was a bundle wrapped in a fabric colored with the Red/Black/Gold of Ruuloth.


    Those on the grounds looked up briefly as the car flew by towards the designated vehicle area, but they paid it no more mind to them than one would any other vehicle flying by.


    There was a small group of people who moved to greet them as the car came to a landing. Among them he could see Kiiroth¡¯s father, whom he had seen briefly at the Shuttle Port.


    As the doors opened, Conrad waited to exit last, giving his hosts their due deference. The welcoming committee greeted their visitors warmly, and Conrad saw that Kiiyoor wasn¡¯t as rigid as he had been before. He was privately glad for it, as he knew that it meant the man had managed to come to terms with his grief in some form already and was prepared for what came next.


    ¡°Nightmanes! Welcome, and thank you for coming. You Honor our son and us with your presence.¡±


    His voice was of a gentle timber. It would likely get drowned out in a noisier environment, but Conrad had no doubt that it also had the steel to it to be heard over such things if it were needed.


    ¡°Master Ruufarrl. Please forgive my rudeness at the Port. You have my deepest gratitude for bringing my son home. It went beyond your duties as his mentor, and I am sure the act did not come without expense. Please come see me after and I will reimburse you for your efforts.¡±


    ¡°It may have been beyond the normally described duties of a mentor, but I do not see it that way. I seek no reimbursement. Also, I have spoken with Ruushan. This is for you.¡± He pulled a folded cloth out of a pouch on his harness and handed it to Kiiyoor. He unfolded it briefly, then refolded it and held it to his chest.


    Kiiyoor closed his eyes and dipped his head in a shallow bow as he gripped his son¡¯s post-humous Mantle. ¡°Your integrity and personal Honor are as true as ever¡­ Clan Head. Thank you.¡±


    Finally, he looked at Conrad, ¡°And there is only one person whom you can be. Human Conrad, thank you for avenging my son. Thank you for creating the circumstances that allowed him to be brought home¡­ And thank you for being here for the Vuuln-Maraal Ritual.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for allowing me to come. In truth, I must apologize to you. I¡­ did not act quickly enough to save your son.¡±


    Kiiyoor smiled softly snorted in amusement, ¡°You would never have been able to. His reflexes were the fastest I have ever seen. That is not your burden to bear.¡±


    He turned to readdress the group, ¡°Please, we will be starting shortly, as soon as the night winds pick up. This way.¡±


    They followed him and the others to the pillar, where a gathering now stood milling about, quietly chatting and awaiting the commencement. Conrad got a brief glimpse of Kiiyoor handing the mantle to someone who then climbed the tower to place it with the wrapped remains.


    Looking around Conrad noticed that there were more Bloodclaws in attendance than there weren¡¯t. It gave him the impression that it was going to be a Military Funeral with Full Honors. Considering what he had just seen with Kiiyoor, he figured that it may well be the case.


    He floated around the crowd with Ruufarrl, going through various introductions and small talk while they waited. As the sun went down and the temperature cooled into dusk, he felt the winds pick up again, bringing with them that strange, soft incense scent he had detected before, which he now recognized as a natural scent from the foliage.


    As the winds picked up, he felt a change in those gathered and saw that their attention was now focused inward, toward the pillar. At some unseen signal the milling group created an even ring around the pillar, facing it.


    Torches were lit by the family at the base of the structure to provide light in the gathering darkness, their flames whipping about in the rising winds, casting flickering shadows across the onlookers.


    The Ritual was conducted in Ruulothi by Kiiyoor, who stood in the center next to the pillar with his wife. As the Head of the House, it was his responsibility to see after his own. Conrad did not understand what was being said, but Ruufarrl was able to quietly translate the general message.


    ¡°Friends, family, and associates. Thank you for gathering to see off one of our own, of the Ironmoon House, who fell Honorably in combat and demonstrated the best of the Ruulothi Codes. Tonight, he is sent to the Great Hunt not only as a Ruulothi Warrior, but as a Bloodclaw!¡±


    This last statement drew growls of approval from the crowd, and Kiiyoor paused a moment to allow for it.


    ¡°It is with Grief that I now commit my son to the Hunt, but it is with Pride that I light the pyre that will bring him there.¡±


    He lifted one of the torches and walked over to the pillar, lighting what appeared to be a rope, that had apparently been treated with accelerant.


    The flames practically flew up the rope to the basin at the top of the pyre. The orange flames licked up to a hole in the bottom of the basin, and with a fwumph the pyre itself ignited into a fiercely burning blue flame.


    ¡°May the Hunt Winds carry your ashes from the mortal worlds, past the Fields Between and to the Forests of the Great Hunt. May they forever carry your knowledge and experience, so that you may continue to guide and light the path for the generations to come that will follow the paths and the Hunt Winds.


    Goodbye, my son.¡±


    With his final statement, the gathered Ruulothi let out a great roar in unison. The sudden outburst startled Conrad, but he collected himself. Instead of trying to emulate them, and likely embarrassing himself, he instead took the standard human route of closing his eyes, dipping his head and placing his right fist over his heart.


    He looked up again as the roar ended. The ring continued to stand silently as the pyre burned. None moved again until the blue flames had entirely died out and the rope igniter was burned to ash. Whatever the accelerant was, it did not work like lighting oil, burning in place of the wick. It instead facilitated and enhanced the burning of whatever it was placed on.


    As the last of the fires died out, Kiiyoor turned to address the attendees.


    ¡°Once again, thank all of you for sending Kiiroth to the Great Hunt with us. Your Support, Honor and Respect has been greatly appreciated. Kaaraal!¡±


    ¡°Kaaraal!¡± The unified voices of the ring boomed out. With that, they began to disperse. Many returned to their vehicles and left, returning to whatever business they had been taking care of before. A small few stayed, to meet with the family. Conrad and the others from the Nightmane House were among them.


    The group that stayed eventually wandered into the family manor, where they reconvened in their Hall. As they walked in, Conrad had to do a double take.


    Sitting in the prime spot in the center of the opposing wall from the entrance, was none other than a Clantor Matron¡¯s head.


    Not just any Matron either, Conrad realized as he looked closer and saw the heat scoring and shattered carapace on its neck. It was THE Clantor Matron.


    Ruufarrl chuckled lightly from behind him, ¡°That did not take you very long to figure out.¡±


    ¡°A fitting place for it.¡± Said another voice that Conrad recognized as Kiiyoor. ¡°I do dearly wish to hear the story that led to that monster winding up on my wall.¡±


    ¡°And that you will, Kiiyoor. But not tonight, for I have a better idea. The Blooding Ceremony for this one is to take place tomorrow evening. There the recording of the entire incident will be played as a part of the required evidence and references. I would like to formally invite you as an observer.¡±


    Kiiyoor clenched his hands, torn between needing to know and both wanting and not wanting to see the incident as it unfolded. Finally, he nodded, ¡°Thank you. I will take you up on the offer.¡±


    ¡°Good, I will send you the details.¡±


    Conrad looked back and forth between the two of them, before his brain finally settled on a piece of what he had heard.


    ¡°Wait¡­ you have the video?¡±

 Chapter 19

    ??-Conrad-


    Conrad woke groggily, his body leadenly protesting with every stretch and movement.


    He hadn''t slept well, his nerves for the upcoming Confirmation and still unfamiliar surroundings served to keep him on a mental high alert. While the first day he had been too exhausted to not sleep and the days following had been more distracting and business as usual, today had gotten under his skin and into his head. He had slept enough to be functional but he was not, by any stretch of the imagination, rested.


    He dearly hoped that he wouldn''t make a fool of himself because of it.


    Conrad gathered himself as he went through his morning routine, shaking off his stupor with a light workout and a brief session in the sanitation pod, about all he could stand of the sonic vibrations. But, it most definitely woke him up.


    Today was the Galactic Community''s Day of Celebration. So, most people would be enjoying their day with family, lifting their spirits after the previous day of mourning and preparing for the next year.


    It was also, effectively, his Trial of Standing. Despite everything, he still felt unprepared, and Ruufarrl wasn''t giving him any more hints either.


    On the trip back to the manor he had asked Ruufarrl if there was anything that he specifically needed to learn or prepare for. His mentor had given him a cryptic grin and simply said, "Your skills will be more than sufficient."


    Even now he was mildly irritated. "I know he is doing it on purpose... and that he would tell me if something was truly off. But damn is it annoying. I hate flying blind. Then again... maybe that is a part of this whole thing too. Perhaps they need a genuine reaction, to see the stranger at their most vulnerable and raw and see how they respond before making a decision that could greatly impact their Clan and entire species. Whatever it is, at least Ruufarrl seems to have confidence that I can meet the challenge."


    He shook the thoughts and concerns from his head as he finished dressing. Now was certainly not the time to be getting cold feet. He sat for a couple minutes in a quiet meditative exercise then, focused and awake, he left his room to make his way to the Hall for breakfast.


    __________________________________________________


    The first thing he noticed as he approached the hall was that it was far noisier than he had expected. "Maybe the staff has joined them? It is a day of celebration after all."


    His stomach grumbled at him while he contemplated, the smells of cooked meat and something else wafting out to him.


    "Right, doesn''t matter, food first." He told himself, then started and shot glances around him to make sure no one had seen the crazy human talking to himself. Satisfied that his antics hadn''t been observed, he stepped through the door and into the Hall.


    The morning sun lit the place up with a nice orange hue, with the windows auto-tinted just enough to prevent them from going blind. He looked around and stood in surprise. There were far more people here than he had expected.


    He was partially right in his earlier estimation. The staff had joined them, as well as what appeared to be their families if their interactions and mannerisms were any clue, beyond that there were four Ruulothi that he did not recognize. Two of them, both males, shared the family colorations that Ruufarrl had. They stood talking casually with Ruufarrl while the other two, a male and female were speaking with Naarviix and her husband.


    Every one of the four new arrivals was a Bloodclaw.


    Naarviix saw him first and nodded in his direction. This set off a wave of turning heads and the conversations either died or quieted as nearly everyone positioned themselves to see the alien in their midst.


    "Did I sleep in?"


    His comment got a chuckle out of both Naarviix and Ruufarrl, as well as a couple of others among the staff that had come to know him. The rest almost universally gave him an incredulous eyebrow with ear and whisker twitch. Ruufarrl waved him over and Naarviix excused herself from her husband and kids to bring her group over to the gathering.


    "Worry not, Conrad. You are not late for anything. Some of our extended family arrived early this morning to catch up and prepare for the Confirmation this afternoon." He gestured to the two men standing next to him, "This is my brother Fiirnaal and his son Raashiin."


    "And these are Muurvaan and Luufka." Naarviix said, respectively indicating the older male and younger female that were with her. "Muurvaan is a cousin, and Luufka earned her place as a Clan member through her Blooding. All of those before you now work in some fashion in Clan politics and were away on their duties. Fiirnaal and Raashiin both work in the Clan defense forces, and these two work together as Emissaries to other clans."


    They all nodded to him as they were introduced and Muurvaan spoke up once she was finished, "Though not for much longer, I think. Luufka has more than learned what is necessary to find her own path from here. I believe you were looking at the Academy next?"


    Luufka nodded, almost shyly, "I am. I want to get the best base of experience I can before moving into more responsibilities."


    "A sensible goal. If only more youngbloods took the same approach." Ruufarrl responded. His answer was supported by sage nods from both Muurvaan and Fiirnaal, and a look of annoyed consternation from Raashiin to his father.


    Conrad did his best to hide his grin at their antics. Realizing that he was failing, he chose to change the subject, "You said some had arrived early, does this mean that there will be more?"


    Ruufarrl and Naarviix both nodded as she answered, "Yes. A Confirmation, or Blooding Ceremony of this nature is of great import to the Clan, so as many as can make it will be arriving. Those from our direct family, other close families, and those who are in positions of great responsibility will be in attendance. This is another reason why we are holding it today, on the Day of Celebration. It means that they will all be free to attend."


    "So... Knowing that it is a responsibility and setting that aside, of course... They would rather attend a boring meeting than celebrate with their families?"


    The adult Ruulothi all chuckled at this as Ruufarrl answered, "A Blooding Ceremony is no boring meeting... That is for sure. A good one is far more entertaining than most events for Celebration Day."


    Conrad gave him a deadpan stare, which only made the old cat smile even wider, both of them knowing that he was enjoying the anticipation. "You are getting into Cheshire territory there Old Man. Be careful what you wish for."?


    The deadlock was broken by Naarviix, who was failing to hide her own smirk, "Well, shall we get back to breakfast then? Food is getting cold."


    __________________________________________


    Breakfast was just winding down when a new arrival came through the doors. The immediate reactions of all the Ruulothi in the room, children included, clued Conrad in to just who exactly it was that had arrived. Every person present bowed their heads in deference in some manner to the new arrival. All but Ruufarrl, who stood to meet him with more of a deep nod than a bow, a nod that was returned in kind.


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    Much like Kiiroth resembled his own father, this newcomer was almost a carbon copy of Ruufarrl, the only difference being a streak of black on both of his arms. His harness was of a finer make than any he had seen so far and he, too, wore a Greater Mantle like Ruufarrl, the symbols of his accolades cascading down the fabric.


    "First Claw."


    "Father... It is good to see you well."


    The terseness of the exchange took Conrad by surprise. "They are father and son. Ruufarrl never once spoke of him in anything less than a favorable tone and pride and he absolutely looked forward to coming home again... So why are they so short with one another? Wait... He is the one that took Ruufarrl''s place by ritual challenge and forced him to be a Sheathed Claw. Is there some bad blood because of that after all? But that still doesn''t explain before."


    There was an air of tension building in the room, the only one who seemed to be immune to it was Naarviix, who sat watching with a mouse-catcher''s grin in the back. "She certainly doesn''t seem to think it is anything serious. Come to think of it, she is the only other family member that Ruufarrl mentioned directly, and he spoke of her in the same approving manner as his own son. So maybe I should take my cues from her instead."


    At the other end of the Hall, Ruushaan sighed, "I hope I am not too late for breakfast? These smells are almost too much to bear." He seemed to notice Conrad for the first time then and moved to greet him.


    "You must be Conrad; I have heard much of your exploits. I hope you continue to live up to the impression you have given. This could be an incredible opportunity for us all. I think I speak for us all when I say that we are looking forward to this Ceremony and what lies beyond."


    What could have been condescending was more of a friendly professionalism when it came from Ruushaan. He was very measured in his tone and soft spoken, his movements smooth and fluid, eyes intelligent and observant. Conrad could just as easily see him soothing angered representatives and guiding them to the conclusions that he wanted them to reach as he could see him ripping a challenger to shreds. "This... this man is dangerous. A Warrior and a Politician. This is different than Ruufarrl. He would hold people in check by sheer force of presence and personality. This one keeps people fighting themselves without them ever realizing it. If Ruufarrl could be seen as a Knight, then this one is a Duelist."


    "I look forward to meeting and exceeding your expectations."


    "Hah! Well said." Ruushaan grinned widely at him. Once again, Naarviix inserted herself handing Ruushaan a tray of food, "If all the flexing and posturing is done for now, we do still have some food for our late little cub. Is Siiyaan not coming?"


    Ruushaan gave her an amused sideways glance before appearing to sink in on himself a bit, "Thank you, Cousin. Your hospitality and charm are as bright as ever, and no she is not. Sadly, she was needed to settle a trade dispute on Verrdinaat. She is not due to leave for home again for at least another week."


    This admission seemed... odd to Conrad. "That timeline doesn''t add up. It means that she is already there... Which means that she was sent knowing that she would miss their most important holidays. Granted, it could happen, but with as important as these holidays seem to be, why wouldn''t a ''trade dispute'' be put on hold for couple of days, especially for an in-system jaunt that could just as easily be handled over comms or terminals. Judging from Naarviix and Ruufarrl''s identical ear twitch, it seems they picked up on it too. It doesn''t feel like a lie... more of a half truth? So why hide it... Wait. They weren''t surprised by it, they just picked up on the double speak. This is just like when Ruufarrl played word games when it came to the Founders."


    As the others turned back to their plates, he raised an eyebrow at Ruufarrl, who in turn merely gave him another ear twitch and a nearly imperceptible shake of his head.


    "Welp, looks like I get to wait on that one too. Focus on the here and now, I guess. Just get through today, tomorrow will be there, figure it out then. At least he knows that I noticed."


    The breakfast continued for about another thirty minutes as the various parties exchanged information. During that time Conrad was approached, but for little more than casual conversation. Once things wound down again the various visitors began to beg their leaves to go and prepare.


    Though he was the last of the newcomers to leave, Ruushaan turned to speak with them again. "Naarviix, thank you again for your patience. I know how quiet things have been lately, and it is my hope that soon our individual duties will loosen their grips and allow us to bring life back to these halls."


    She gave him a soft smile, "I don''t know, the quiet has kind of grown on me. It is most definitely easier to think without the distractions."


    He chuffed in amusement at her answer, then turned toward Ruufarrl and Conrad, his face now professionally neutral again. "Father, Conrad, I will see you this afternoon. Good luck."


    Ruufarrl merely gave a slight bow of his head and gave a short response, "First Claw."


    Conrad, unsure of how to proceed, gave a deeper bow and managed to mutter, "Thank you, First Claw."


    After Ruushaan left Naarviix dismissed the remaining staff and their families to enjoy the rest of their day however they desired. Then she came over to address them.


    "We really only have around an hour before we need to leave. Are all preparations handled, Uncle?"


    "Yes. I have the appropriate materials with me, the rest will come from Conrad." Ruufarrl turned to consider him and gave an approving nod, "We are ready."


    ____________________________________________


    The Council Hall chambers were cascading benches situated in an almost full oval around a lower staging area. At one of the small ends of the oval sat a raised platform from which the First Claw and his chosen associates watched and led the proceedings. At the other was a flat wall that contained a large viewing screen. It reminded Conrad of a small coliseum more than anything else. He currently stood on the lower floor under the First Claw''s section. At the doors to either side of him stood an armed guard, with two more standing at the doors on the far side under the viewscreen. He looked again at the gathered Ruulothi and was taken again by the awe of the situation.


    The seats were full.


    There couldn''t have been much more than a hundred that could fit on each side, but they were definitely at capacity. The air buzzed with conversation while they waited, many scrutinizing him from afar, this unknown alien that was being presented to them.


    Naarviix, Ruufarrl, Ruushaan and Kiiyoor were in the raised area behind him, along with yet another Ruulothi that he was unfamiliar with. Given their universal cold shoulders to this other representative¡­ giving off the vibe that he was not one that they could trust. Along with them stood two more guards, each on one flank of the leader¡¯s box.


    Once all the seats were filled, Ruushaan addressed the gathering, his voice picked up by his wristlink and broadcast over the facilities speakers.


    ¡°Masters and Teachers. Council Folk and Leaders. Today we judge the merits of the one placed before us, to review their sponsored petition for the Honor of Bloodclaw. That individual is a Human, by the name of Conrad Mclaughlin. This Human now stands before you, ready for your considerations.


    Evidence of his deeds has been collected. There is video recording of the primary incident, as well as written statements to both his prowess and Honor from Loormar, a Mentor of the Bloodcoat Clan. Finally, we have the testimony of his Sponsor and Mentor, Ruufarrl of the Nightmanes.


    But before we begin, the Representative from the Grand Council wishes to speak.¡±


    The Ruulothi in attendance were too disciplined to growl in irritation, but it clearly showed on some of their faces and the set of their ears.


    The Representative stepped forward, his tan and red fur standing out amongst the much bolder and darker Nightmanes flanking him, as did his lack of a Mantle.


    ¡°I just wanted to remind those gathered here that this is an unprecedented moment. One that sped down the paths before any could get a hold of it. Remember that we are a people of traditions, and those traditions are what keep us who we are. If we forsake them, then we invite disaster.¡±


    His message delivered, he stepped back to watch the proceedings. Conrad¡¯s eyes narrowed at his speech, and his mind started to go to dark places when Ruushaan stepped forward again.


    ¡°Sadly, we were unable to secure the presence of representative Bloodclaws from the Culgari or the Risspal for this Confirmation, as it would have been of great interest to them as well. Now, without any further divergences, let us begin.¡±


    Conrad¡¯s thoughts ground to a halt before kicking back into gear, ¡°Oh you clever bastard. With one sentence, you not only reminded anyone who may have taken what that Rep said to heart that there IS precedent already set, but reminded them of the two most trusted allies of the Ruulothi, and that the Rep isn¡¯t a Bloodclaw. All without setting it up as an argument too. Damn, you are good.¡±


    Ruushaan had gone to a terminal and began tinkering with the display. A few moments later he looked up and an image showed on the giant viewscreen on the other side of the chambers. It was a still image of the moments just before the Pirates gave their speech.


    ¡°I believe we should begin with the original incident. I should also mention that Kiiroth, the youngblood you are about to see, has been awarded the Bloodclaw Honors posthumously, and has been returned home for the proper funeral.¡±


    A low growl of approval swept the room, and then the picture went into motion.


    It was the first time that Conrad had seen the events from this angle. Just seeing the big bugs moving again sent a shiver down his spine from the memories that surfaced.


    He watched as Kiiroth launched himself forward like an arrow fired from a bow. He had barely managed to even move his arm and shift forward by the time Kiiroth moved. Kiiroth¡¯s ultimate end was shown clearly, though without the sounds and smells the impact of it felt less than before.


    Even though the end was gruesome, and perhaps even hopeless, the growl of approval that made the rounds upon his death showed that those gathered shared the same values that he had. He managed a brief glance to Kiiyoor and saw in him a mixture of both pride and the remnants of his raw grief.


    ¡°Damn, that can¡¯t have been easy for him to watch.¡±


    What came next felt strange to him. Watching himself make his desperate last stand on screen carried with it an odd sense of detachment. He eyed the gathered Ruulothi as the clip continued. Most were confused but some watched intently, trying to piece together what his actions were leading to, but they all had the same look of shock when the Matron disappeared into the cloud of smoke and returned to view in pieces. That got them cheering.


    Thereafter it was mostly nods and quiet musings and conversations as they discussed the video, merits and tactics on display. But the highlight had definitely been the Matron. When the video ended he saw a lot more lean in to one another to converse quietly before Ruushaan moved the proceedings along.


    As the rest of the process continued, he began to feel more like he had been placed on trial. Ruufarrl gave his accounting of the entire time he had known him in cliff notes and highlights at least. What surprised him most was Loormar¡¯s accounting of what had happened during their layover. Apparently, he saw the small mercy of Conrad just brushing the whole confrontation off as a grand gesture, one that set the stage for him to see his charges¡¯ true natures revealed.


    There wasn¡¯t any video of that encounter¡­ from their perspective anyway. Conrad did have a recording from his shoulder drone but hadn¡¯t been asked for it. ¡°More than likely, Ruufarrl had forgotten about its capabilities given the time spent in the cramped ship.¡±


    Eventually the observance of the physical evidence and dissertations came to an end, and Ruushaan again began speaking.


    ¡°You have all seen the evidence, heard the testimonies, discussed among yourselves and made your own observations. Now, we move on to the final test.¡±


    The only phrase that Conrad had to describe what he felt occur in the room before the last shoe dropped on his head was that a power surge ran through those attending. Anticipation had built and was now being held in check by the barest of margins.


    ¡°Clansmen and Clanswomen, who wishes to test the applicant¡¯s mettle before the assembly.¡±


    The mental gates holding them back dropped, and an echoing chorus of growls and cheers rang out as hands started going up. Ruushaan allowed it to continue until he had a satisfactory display of interest.


    In all truth, he needn¡¯t have waited.


    "Human, a call for challengers has been placed, and they have answered. Who do you choose to face?"


    "That sneaky son of a.."  He shot a glance at a very smug looking Ruufarrl. "He isn''t even trying to hide it. So THAT is what he meant when he said I would be ''sufficient'' to meet the challenge."


    Conrad looked away from his mentor to the veritable forest of hands... claws?... paws?... hands, that excitedly waved in the air. It seemed like EVERY single Clan Ruulothi in attendance had jumped at the chance to face him, even the elders in back.


    He felt his gut chill as the adrenaline started to surge, and then he smiled. He smiled to himself as much as to the Ruulothi in attendance as that dormant, caged part of him awoke again.


    "Well, I''m afraid I don''t really know anybody. So, I suppose let¡¯s do it right... Who''s your best?"

 Chapter 20

    ??-Conrad-


    The sound of the approving roars was deafening in the enclosed space.


    Looking around Conrad noticed that even the guards had joined in. The only one that he could see that didn''t express their approval was the Grand Council Representative.


    "Eh, wasn''t expecting much from him anyway."


    Ruushaan allowed the crowd to entertain themselves for a few moments before motioning for them to calm themselves and giving Conrad a respectful nod.


    "Well-spoken Youngblood. Our best you shall have... BATTLEMASTER VAARLAAN! An Aspiring Bloodclaw requires your instruction and judgement!"


    A deepthroated cheer of grrRAH! grrRAH! sounded out as a figure broke ranks with the crowd, the tone and cadence of which sounded like the military or sports cheers of haaOOH!


    As the summoned Ruulothi stepped down to the lower floor, Conrad got his first look at him.


    Battlemaster Vaarlaan looked to be roughly Ruufarrl''s age, at least in so far as Conrad could estimate such things. His dark red fur was shot through with countless veins of silver. Having grown up on an untamed fringe world, Conrad recognized the markings as the outward indicators of scars under fur. "Whoo boy, this old cat has seen some shit. He doesn''t just walk, he practically glides and even here, amongst those who should be his most trusted allies and friends his ears are flicking every which way. His eyes and head periodically scan his surroundings, and he never leaves his back exposed where there is any other choice. He reminds me of the retired combat veterans back home. No doubt, if he isn''t THE best here, he is most definitely in the running for it."


    Vaarlaan gave Conrad a respectful head bow, which he returned, then turned to give audience to Ruushaan again. Ruushaan turned and gave a nod to the security guards standing under his platform. The guards disappeared through their doors, and a few moments later came out again carrying two long, curved items. They moved to stand in front of each combatant and held the weapons out.


    Ruushaan gestured to the items before them, "These will be the implements of your test. The Vorkaal blades. While these are but unsharpened training blades, they hold a current to signal a proper strike, and are still made of metal, and thus capable of inflicting injury. Please, inspect your weapons, and greet your opponent."


    Conrad expected that most of that little speech was for his benefit, though there was more than enough ceremony contained in it that it didn''t feel out of place. He kept the Battlemaster in his peripheral so that he could emulate his movements and, hopefully, not make any foolish etiquette mistakes. The Battlemaster reached out to grab the weapon in front of him, so Conrad did the same. As soon as the weapons were removed from their custody the guards returned to their original positions.


    Conrad unsheathed his Vorkaal blade when Vaarlaan did and got his first look at the weapon itself. The blade was a curved affair, about twice as long as his own forearm, making it just a little longer than the standard machete or bush sword. It appeared as though it was meant to be held with the inside of the curve as the striking area, although both edges appeared to be ground in such a way as to indicate that they were both intended to be sharp, with the back edge fading out about an extended ricasso roughly a hand''s length from the guard. It vaguely reminded him of an extended sickle or possibly even a shotel.


    The problem he had was with the handle. It simply wasn''t designed for human proportions and sat at a slightly odd angle to the blade. It was clearly designed as it was for the stiffer, inward facing Ruulothi hands and wrists.


    "These are the Grand Standard of bladed Ruulothi weaponry. Their design has withstood the test of time, and it is still in use today with our ground troops. What do you think, Aspirant?"


    Conrad realized with a start that it hadn''t been Ruushaan speaking, but rather Vaarlaan. He quickly gave him his attention.


    "It is quite well balanced. We once had similarly designed blades in certain places of Earth, but the use of large melee weaponry fell out of favor once we invented firearms. Nowadays we only really carry knives, though some military officers are still awarded sabers with their commission. Honestly, they look like these would if the blade was reversed. They were designed as a cavalry blade first, and later became popular with duelists after a few modifications."


    The battle-scarred Ruulothi tilted his head in confusion, ¡°Cavalry? I am not familiar with this term.¡±


    ¡°You never¡­?¡± Thinking about it as he spoke, Conrad realized that there likely wouldn¡¯t be any creature that would willingly allow such clear predators to simply hop on and ride around. Nor would any of the more pacifist races really have as much of a need for it these days either.


    ¡°Cavalry were mounted units that rode on a domesticated herd animal. Such units specialized in fast movement, scouting, skirmishing and maneuvering. Later, after we started covering ourselves in metal armor due to advances in weapons and changes in battle doctrine and gear, they became known for powerful and devastating charges into enemy formations.¡±


    ¡°Riding large animals into battle and hiding in armor? Hmm, I am not sure if I should be impressed or disappointed. But they do present some interesting tactical challenges. It is something that I would like to learn more of. Something to ponder later, perhaps. It would be interesting to see how your people fight now. But, to the task at hand. Does the weapon meet with your approval?¡±


    ¡°It does. I am ready when you are.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡± Vaarlaan took a couple steps back from the center of the arena and turned to Ruushaan, giving a bow to show he was prepared. Conrad imitated him on the other side of the arena.


    Ruushaan gave them both a shallower bow in acknowledgement before speaking again.


    ¡°Aspirant Conrad, this is a test of your abilities and commitment, with Battlemaster Vaarlaan as your proctor. It is as much a display and exploration of your personal prowess as it is a training match. Given the differences in our species, there is much we can learn from one another here. There is no shame for a loss, and the responsibility for acknowledging a wounding blow lies upon the participants. The fighting will continue until it has been called off by either you, Battlemaster Vaarlaan, or myself. Do you understand the terms of this test and accept its risks?¡±


    ¡°I do.¡±


    ¡°Battlemaster Vaarlaan. Do you understand your role as Proctor and accept the risks?¡±


    ¡°I do as well.¡±


    ¡°Observers! Do you understand the terms of the test and accept the responsibilities of being a witness to the events here today?¡±


    ¡°grrRAH!¡± The unified voices of the assembly shouted out again in response to the question.


    ¡°Then let the test¡­ BEGIN!¡±


    _____________________________________


    ¡°Damn he is fast!¡±


    The match had started about as Conrad had expected, with both combatants circling and adjusting for the perceived range of their opponent. Conrad had struck first, knowing that not only was it expected, but that it would let him control the momentum for a period of time so that he could get a better measure of what he was dealing with.


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    He didn¡¯t fully commit, but rather tested the boundaries and reaction speed of his opponent while he got used to the weapon¡¯s physical characteristics and awkward handling.


    Vaarlaan seemed to be doing similar, testing Conrad¡¯s reach and ability to disengage, something that Conrad had to learn on the fly. The Vorkaal blade¡¯s design meant that he had to pull away to disengage or rotate the blade to the outer curve before slipping out, neither of which was a natural movement for him.


    Once Vaarlaan had judged that he had enough time to adjust, he put the pressure on, which was what had led to Conrad¡¯s current predicament. The old cat was fast.


    Even so, Conrad recognized that Vaarlaan wasn¡¯t putting much technique into his efforts, merely escalating the tempo of the bout to see if he could keep up. This at least, Conrad could do. His time with Master Silva and years of studying Escrima served him well. Starting from his footwork, he adjusted his body and shortened his movements to minimize time spent on movement and control the center of the engagement. He took a few touches before he got the hang of it, the inward curve of the blades served to nullify the standard methods he used, reaching around his guard to tag him on the shoulder and arm.


    Once he had the feel for it, Conrad began to alter the angles of his defense and press on his opponent¡¯s blade, looking to create openings. Doing this he managed to score a couple of touches himself, none of them would have been debilitating, but they made contact regardless.


    Nodding in acknowledgement, Vaarlaan changed his tactics again. This time he added in movement to his attacks and defenses. He stepped in and out of range and side to side, varying the distance and angle of attack. He also began to add in more sword techniques, sometimes hooking Conrad¡¯s sword and pulling him back in range as he moved back or creating openings by twisting the blade and slapping the outer curve against Conrad¡¯s to knock it out of alignment.


    Conrad chose not to play that game. He instead matched Vaarlaan¡¯s darting movements and used his greater flexibility and range of motion to swing the blade in short circles and wrist flicks, keeping the tip of it moving and diving at Vaarlaan, or the back edge slashing in when he least expected it. Each time the Battlemaster tried to hook or keep their blades engaged Conrad twisted, flicked or rolled his blade to prevent it and keep his momentum going.


    Vaarlaan and the crowd seemed to approve as the contest became steadily more dynamic. The cheering roars were near to deafening and Vaarlaan began to have a slight unconscious smile play across his lips.


    ¡°It must be a different kind of challenge for him, having to deal with an entirely new range of motion, but he is up for it. Even though we are trading minor touches at this point, he is still tacking me at least double what I am getting him with. That inside curve is throwing me hard¡­ Wha-!?¡±


    Vaarlaan darted forward and stepped into his space and kept the aggressive pressure on, not letting Conrad get any room to recover. Desperate for some distance, Conrad waited until Vaarlaan maintained the pressure on his blade to push it out of the way¡­ and rolled it. He had guarded with the tip down, across his body with his free hand braced on the ricasso. Once he felt Vaarlaan begin to try and push through his guard he pushed up both hands, rolling his opponents blade up, over and down. He kept the outer third of the blades in contact to prevent the tip from hooking him, and as he rolled it around, he slid the contact point closer to the guard. It was a modified Escrima technique, one that left his blade on top of his opponent¡¯s while being on the outside of their weapon arm. This gave him a dominant position where he could turn in again and get a blow in before his opponent could stop him.


    At least, that was the plan anyway.


    _______________________________________


    -Ruushaan-


    As the match started, Ruushaan stepped forward to the edge of the balcony to get a better view, and to surreptitiously stand next to Ruufarrl, who was leaning on the guard rails to watch the match.


    The Councilman remained in back, disdainful of the proceedings now that his intentions had been overruled.


    The more intimate proximity to his father and noise from the cheering crowd allowed them to finally have something resembling a normal conversation without being overheard.


    ¡°He certainly is exceeding all preconceptions laid upon his people. Are they all like this?¡±


    The Human was performing incredibly well by his estimation. Likely a testament to the martial training his father had mentioned in one of his missives.


    Ruufarrl flicked his ears in amusement. ¡°Not all, but enough are.¡± He turned his head slightly to look at Ruushaan out of the corner of his eye, ¡°Are you sure this is a good idea with the puppet back there? We have an image of disdain to maintain after all¡±


    Ruushaan snorted in contempt, ¡°With his entitlement he can¡¯t see beyond his own nose, and certainly can¡¯t hear anything. I asked the guards across the way to signal if he moves to approach.¡±


    His father chuffed in amusement, ¡°Smart, but still risky. He is not the only informant they have. Do not get too friendly. The visible threat may be known, but there are still others in the grass.¡±


    He sighed in frustration, ¡°True enough.¡±


    The match was now getting well underway. He recognized that Vaarlaan had accelerated his usual methods in response to the Human¡¯s techniques. At times they almost seemed to mirror one another, but Vaarlaan¡¯s experience was serving him well. Conrad was having a difficult time making headway as the Battlemaster shifted the fight to continually favor him.


    Even now he was pressing in on the smaller human, forcing him to move or confront his larger opponent inside his effective range. Against a Ruulothi this was a terrifying prospect, as their claws would rend anyone who stayed in close. A fact that Conrad appeared to be well aware of and take into consideration.


    His response was unorthodox.


    Using small adjustments of his feet, the human countered Vaarlaan by scooping his blade up and over his head and pinning it down on the other side. But Vaarlaan had a counter to even this.


    As soon as the locked blades pushed down again, Battlemaster Varrlaan dropped his sword, causing Conrad to lurch forward as he lost his balance, and swatted Conrad across the chest with a heavy backhand using the newly freed arm, sending him backwards in a tumble.


    Conrad rolled with the blow, and came up to his feet several meters away, seemingly none the worse for wear. His head tilted and a predator''s grin grew on his face as he stood up and began to circle again while waiting honorably for Varrlaan to pick up his dropped weapon.


    "Bad move Varrlaan." Ruufarrl said, chuckling to himself, "You have opened the Traazol nest now."


    Ruushaan looked at him with one ear back, "How so? He is doing as is appropriate, testing the human and pushing the difficulty higher as he would any youngblood trainee. Though I will admit that the human fights well enough."


    Ruufarrl smiled in much the same way Conrad just had. "Because before that moment, the Youngblood believed this to be a contest of weapons. Now, he knows that everything is acceptable. You have not seen Humans fight, my son. When they say everything goes, they mean quite literally everything??. They are walking weapons platforms."


    Ruushan gave a skeptical tilt of his head, "They have no claws or fangs, nor bone spurs or any other natural weapon." Ruufarrl chuckled again and nodded at the match as the combatants closed in on one another again, "Just watch, my son. Read the material I will be giving you, and never ?underestimate the Humans."


    _______________________________________


    -Vaarlaan-


    ¡°That was unexpected. This Human moves like a blade of bloodgrass waving in the wind. His flexibility is well beyond anything I can match. Hmph. At least he has the courtesy and Honor of waiting for me to collect my weapon. Not that rushing in would have helped him any.¡±


    He scarcely wanted to admit it, but he was impressed. He could end this fight now and give his approval. ¡°But where is the fun in that?¡±


    He smiled as the human rotated the Voorkal blade he held so that it could be used like the sabers he had described to him earlier. ¡°Interesting, and adaptive. Not something a Ruulothi could easily pull off given the handle shape. Such a position would completely nullify any advantage I can gain by using the blade as intended. Let¡¯s see where this goes then.¡±


    The human quick stepped in to meet him then, his movements suddenly much more fluid as he used the now former spine of the blade to both strike and shed at almost the same time. The attacks came in a quick succession of figure eights and circles, and try as he might, he had no way now of effectively hooking Conrad¡¯s blade. But neither did the Human have any way of bypassing his own guard.


    The rapid succession of strikes put Vaarlaan on his back foot. But that was no bother, he still had a wide breadth of techniques to pull from. In fact, this seemed like a perfect opportunity to introduce a new one.


    Up until now, he had only given the Human slashing attacks to think about. Now it was time for some thrusts, hooks and rakes.


    He had what felt like a brief moment of success, his sword darting in for his opponent¡¯s shoulder while only barely receiving a glancing block before the Human seemed to jump over his view.


    Or rather, his view became inverted. His mind briefly realized that he was now seeing the Human¡¯s feet rather than his head, but he didn¡¯t even get the chance to mentally mutter, ¡°What?¡± before he slammed into the ground with bone jarring force.


    _____________________________________


    -Conrad-


    ¡°Alrighty then, if that is how you want to play it.¡±


    The smack had shocked him. Less because it hurt, and more because it was completely unexpected. He felt like the Battlemaster had pulled that one, turning it into a power push rather than a blow intended to cause harm.


    He quickly recovered in case his opponent was going to chase him down, but he stood on his own. Vaarlaan watched him intently as he picked up the sword that he dropped.


    ¡°Ohh I got a few tricks for you Mr. Battlemaster. Including a few that you will never have considered given your physiology. Oh, this is going to be fun.¡±


    A feral grin grew on his face, the only outward representation of the direction his thoughts were going. Conrad shifted his grip on the weapon to hold it like a traditional saber and tested the new balance, finding it to be within acceptable parameters.


    ¡°Now then. Let¡¯s see how you like Saber fencing and something learned to beat that armor you mocked earlier.¡±


    He moved in with intent, pushing in and gaining the advantage. His attacks now came much easier as he could completely maintain his momentum and control both the flow and spacing of the encounter. As an added benefit his opponent now couldn¡¯t catch him with the tip of his blade anymore, as the inverted Voorkal blade met its counterpart further out of range.


    He kept the pressure up and waited, knowing that Vaarlaan would need to change things up. All he needed was to get him to extend just a bit.


    Finally, it came. Vaarlaan shifted his weight and drove a thrust straight at him. Still in the middle of his flow, Conrad¡¯s blade came up to pass it to his outside right. At the same time he stepped in and turned with the pass, sliding him out of harm¡¯s way and putting his offhand shoulder under Vaarlaan¡¯s armpit. With his free hand he wrapped up from underneath Vaarlaan¡¯s extended arm, grabbed it and pulled down, hard.


    He was surprised by how easily the larger alien went airborne. He had expected more resistance, but then again, there was that G difference in their planets, and his opponent was taller and more forward heavy than humans.


    ¡°I mean, technically they stand on their toes, too. So, I guess it shifts their balance point and makes them more susceptible to it.¡±


    Vaarlaan hit the ground in front of him with a heavy thud. The sheer unexpected suddenness of the throw in addition to the impact seemed to stun the Battlemaster for a moment. Rather than go for a pin or force a yield, Conrad stepped back to allow him room to recover. This was a test after all.


    Vaarlaan stood up and Conrad the most incredulous look he had ever seen from a Ruulothi, and then the Battlemaster started to laugh.


    His deep belly laughter echoed in the arena, an arena that Conrad now recognized had gone completely silent after he had dropped Vaarlaan on his back.


    The Battlemaster dusted himself off and looked over to the balcony where Ruushaan and Ruulfarrl stood. Ruushaan in amazement and Ruufarrl with a knowing grin.


    ¡°I believe we have seen enough, First Claw. He passes.¡±


    Again, the roar of approval was deafening. Ruushaan waited for it to fall off before speaking, ¡°You have seen the testimony, have seen the Aspirant¡¯s mettle, and borne witness to his passing the test. Are there any who would still argue against his appointment?¡±


    Silence.


    Not even the Council Crony dared argue in the Halls of the Nightmanes.


    ¡°Then it is decided. Conrad Mclaughlin. Welcome to Ruuloth.


    Welcome to the Nightmanes¡­ Bloodclaw¡±

 Chapter 21

    ?-?Conrad-


    "Welcome to the Nightmanes¡­ Bloodclaw."


    The roars of approval spurred on the adrenaline rush he had been riding. The sound of hundreds of voices raised in such a close space was overwhelming. But despite the excitement and fervor, they still paid close attention to their regent.


    The sound died as quickly as it was raised when Ruushaan held up his hands to the massed witnesses.


    "Battlemaster Vaarlaan, you have given your approval and the appointment has been confirmed. Is there anything else you wish to say?"


    "He is a skilled fighter. He kept up with the changes and pressures as well as any of our best students, and quite handily found his own path once he realized it was an option. I am quite interested to learn more of these strange fighting styles he presented, if possible. It will be good to become a student again."


    Grumbles of approval and low laughter rippled through the crowd as Conrad was reminded of the old adage, ''Those who stop learning, stop growing.'' "There are so many similarities in our ways of thinking. No wonder the Founders didn''t want us anywhere near each other. A chaotic outside influence that gets along with one of their pillar warrior communities? That could easily be the beginning of the end."


    Ruushaan nodded sagely at the response, "What do you think Conrad? Would you be willing to train again with the Battlemaster, or perhaps others?"


    It was a loaded question, he knew. But it was one that he naturally had no problem with meeting head on. "Martial training with a bunch of Battle Cat Space Warriors!? F&%K YES!"


    "Absolutely, First Claw. One''s training is never fully complete." His response was far more professional than his inner voice. Politics and manners simply wouldn''t allow such enthusiasm on display.


    He had also read the room right. Whether or not Vaarlaan had intended his own comment as a hint, he had found what he felt was a proper answer. The soft smile from Ruushaan, Ruufaarl and Vaarlaan, along with the gentle growls from the audience confirmed it.


    "Then so it shall be... Witnesses! You may greet your newest brother."


    Conrad was wholly unprepared for the swarm of fur, teeth and claws that came his way, and had to forcibly shut down his lizard brain''s response to the approaching hoard. "HOOhoookaay, I guess I know how a mouse feels after it gets caught by a pack of cats now. Clearly it isn''t what they intended for me to feel, this is just the norm for them."


    Conrad found himself being met by each of the attendees and witnesses. He was never going to remember all of their names, nor all of what was spoken, and he had so many offers to spar and train that his head spun. Though it was chaotic and frenetic, it was still warm and inviting. He wasn''t just some weird alien or curiosity; he was one of them come home. He was a Bloodclaw.


    He wasn''t sure how long the meet and greet went on, but he eventually heard a loud BOOM, BOOM, BOOM.


    At the sound everything stopped again, and everyone looked to the source of the sound, one of the Ruulothi greeting him even stopping mid-word to do so.


    Ruushaan stood at the edge of his balcony and gestured to the gathered group once he had their attention again. Oddly, Conrad could not see what had made the sound as there was no Gavel or staff for him to bang. The oddity gnawed at him for some reason.


    "My Clansmen, thank you for your time on this Day of Celebration. As I am sure you already know, there is much that must be done from here on out. So please, return to your families and enjoy the remainder of the Celebrations. I have the attendance list and will be calling upon you as both time and circumstances permit."


    There was some grumping at having to leave, but all bowed their heads in respect to the orders and began to file out, and a few gave Conrad a passing remark or request on the way past. He noticed the Council Rep simply give Ruushaan a sharp nod before turning to leave. "Well damn, he never even came and said ''Hello''. That''s too bad. Oh, well."


    Battlemaster Vaarlaan was the second to last of the attendees to leave. He gave Conrad a respectful bow before leaving, "I look forward to our next session Bloodclaw."


    "As do I, Battlemaster. Though perhaps... I don''t yet know fully what this means between our peoples as a whole. But I know for certain that there are many Soldiers, Masters and Students of many fighting styles who would leap at the chance to train with a new people. Many of whom are far better than I."


    Vaarlaan''s ears rocked back as he tipped his nose up and gave a wistful grin. "Now that does indeed sound interesting. I will anticipate it eagerly, should the time come. May you find the path, Bloodclaw."


    With Vaarlaan''s exit, Conrad was approached by Kiiroth''s father, who looked better, but was still clearly wrestling with his grief. "Thank you, for avenging him." He looked up at the screen where the events had played and gave a soft smile. "A most impressive fight. You have more than earned you appointment." He shook Conrad''s hand and left, leaving Conrad with Ruushaan and the guards, Ruufarrl and Naarviix.


    Ruushaan gave a slow double check of the room, ensuring it was empty before turning back to him, "Please, come up to the Balcony and follow us."


    Conrad did as he was told, following one of the guards through the anteroom door and up the internal stairs to the balcony, where he quietly searched with his eyes for the source of the noise from earlier. After a few moments he spotted a small addition to the presenter''s edge of the balcony railing.


    "Ahh, a kick plate designed to echo outward. Different, but effective."


    Curiosity finally sated; Conrad pushed on to follow the others. He was led back, deeper into the core of the building to an ornately trimmed set of wooden doors. The decoration alone spoke to the importance of the room beyond.


    But rather than go straight in, Ruushaan waited. A few moments later and another guard stepped out of the room carrying a small metal box. He nodded to the First Claw and stepped aside to allow them in. Only then did Ruushaan lead them into the room, shutting the door behind them.


    The room reminded Conrad of a Grand Office. It was part library, part office, and part living room. There was enough space inside to hold a small conference, though there were no furnishings for visitors. The desk was a wide and made of a glossed dark red wood, as was the well cushioned chair on the far side. It was flanked on both sides and in back by floor to ceiling bookshelves. The ones in back were in turn split by another ornate wooden door.


    The floor was covered in a soft, navy-blue carpet and the light-brown wood-paneled walls on either side held hanging banners bearing the Night Mane Clan symbol. A curiously shaped crimson dagger on a field of the same navy blue as the carpet, that was in turn bordered in black.? The walls flanking the entryway had pictures of various family, clan members and activities.


    Conrad could tell that the room was designed to give the owner a sense of both power and wisdom to visitors, while keeping those same visitors on their toes, unable to truly relax. At the same time, it subtly reminded the owner of what they were in charge of, and what was at risk.


    Once the door was closed, Ruushaan almost seemed to deflate with a great sigh, to which Naarviix gave a bright laugh. "Finally done with playing the Master of the House, are we?"


    "Shut up and come here, you wildling." He chuckled in return, meeting his cousin with paws on her shoulders and a gentle headbutt and nuzzle, which she returned.


    This display was more in keeping with what he expected to see earlier that day. Conrad was beginning to suspect why as the separate pieces started to fall into place for him.?


    His greeting with Naarviix completed, Ruushaan turned to Ruufarrl and gave him a warm smile as he approached, "Father. Do you have any idea the size of the Traazol nest we just jumped into?"


    Stolen novel; please report.


    Ruufarrl chuckled wryly as he embraced his son in a similar manner to Naarviix, but with less nuzzling, "No greater than what we had discussed before. We both knew this was to eventually occur. Do you have any reservations?"


    Ruushaan gave Conrad an approving look before answering, "No. Given the circumstances, this is far better than we could have hoped for. It is at bone breaking speeds, but I believe it is the right choice, and it is being done at the right time. Frustrations are mounting, and all that is needed is a solid push to get us going in a new direction." He stopped and turned to address Conrad directly.


    "Mr. Conrad, thank you for your efforts. I realize that much has been unable to be fully discussed, and I apologize for the necessity of the secrecy. Come, Naarviix, could you bring out some chairs so that we may speak openly about what has occurred, and of what will soon come to pass?"


    "Oh, so now I am your errand kitten, am I?"


    Despite the impertinence of her comment, she said it with a grin and moved to do as asked, walking through the back door of the room. Ruushaan just shook his head before continuing with Conrad.


    "In this room, at least, it is safe to speak without concern of being overheard. Tell me, what do you know of the situation? My correspondence with my father was limited to prevent prying eyes and ears from getting involved. This way I know how much we truly have to go over."


    Conrad leaned back and shrugged, realizing now that the guard from before had been sweeping the room for bugs before they came in, "I think I have it pretty much down. Humanity already knows of the Founders and how they more or less run things in the background, and that they have a very long reach. They are a ruling group pulled from the ranks of the respective Founding Species. It isn''t common knowledge among us, or even the general Galactic Public, but it is known. Ruufarrl hinted and alluded to it several times, and Master Silva explained some of it during our visits on Nueva Rios.


    When I first found out I initially thought of them as a Shadow Cabal, but I guess they really aren''t? They work behind the scenes to make sure the community as a whole thrives. Their methods may seem draconian at times, like where they only protect the home worlds of those who have made contact but haven''t signed on yet. But overall, I can see where they aren''t evil or self-interested, per se, but just... overly concerned and protective? And that can lead them to some pretty dark acts. After all, people really just become numbers at that point. It doesn''t excuse it, but I can see how they could get there.


    I get that Humanity scares them. We are too chaotic and unstable to predict, and too big to be absorbed safely or taken out without massive losses or overhauls, so they don''t really know what to do about us just yet. What I don''t know, is why? Why are the Founders even seen as necessary? I get being cautious, but this goes well beyond that, almost to the point of tyrannical dictatorship."


    Ruushaan stared at him in a mixture of shock and appraisal. Naarviix had returned with the chairs by then and was laying them out as he spoke, "Oh good, I am glad I''m not the only one who wonders why those archaic dolts are still in charge."


    Ruushaan gave her a pointed look, "This is why you need to stay away from politics."


    She laughed at him, "No, THEY are why I stay away from politics, and you two ferals. If this web you are spinning collapses, someone needs to remain apart from it all to continue the family line."


    "That, and that knowing you are making policy decisions would scare any of those hidebound fools on the Grand Council into early grays." Ruufarrl retorted, grinning at her.


    "It is hardly my fault that I am simply willing to make room for growth and change and do what needs to be done without concern for other''s scratched feelings."


    Ruushaan held up his hand before their bickering got too out of hand. "Please, we all agree with you. But, in case you have forgotten, this is what we all agreed was necessary." Naarviix grumped at him as she sat down, "It shouldn''t be. We should be shaking things up without concern for their ideals. We aren¡¯t even allowed to put the ideas out there right now."


    Ruufaarl laughed, "And just what exactly do you think this is?" Naarviix flicked her ears at him in annoyance before acquiescing, "Fair enough. But it isn''t fun sitting on the sidelines while you all take the risk."


    Conrad held up a hand to speak, "So wait, you guys planned all this?"


    Ruushaan looked at his father, "Do you want this, or should I?"


    "I will take this." Ruushaan nodded to him and took a seat, allowing his father to lean forward and take the lead. "The answer is... complicated. Both yes and no. While I was First Claw, I questioned why we were not pursuing our own interests as a species in addition to those of the greater Community. I felt that we needed to have our own advances and not rely on others. This led to a certain amount of push back from the rest of the Grand Council, who were fat and happy with the arrangements. Eventually my questioning and pushing was brought to the Founder''s attention. I began to feel their influence as they started to exert pressure and keep me in my place. But I was too stubborn, and openly challenged why we had allowed them to continue to so directly interfere with the paths our people were taking.


    My impertinence and impatience led to more problems, which created some strife and unrest in the clan. Ruushaan had worked with me for some time beforehand, and we were of like minds, even if we did not share methods. He was much better at handling controversial things and gathered the support of those who were creating the unrest. He knew why I was shaking the branch, but it could not be allowed to continue unchecked. He made his challenge then¡­ and won."


    He paused then and smiled at his son, "Rather well, I might add. Politics and Clan business had taken much of my time made me soft, and I had forgotten to keep myself sharp. He had no such barriers and was in his early Prime, a most suitable fighter and candidate. Afterwards, we discussed as a family about what to do. I was still too hot politically to keep around, so I asked him to make me sheathe my claws. This would not only cement his support and shield our clan from further scrutiny, but allow me the freedom to move about and search for different paths, quieter paths, to take to our goals."


    Naarviix snorted as she tried to hold back her rising giggling laughter, "Wait... so this is a quieter path?? Oh, may the Lords of the Hunt save us all."


    Ruufarrl gave her a sideways glare, "It is also when the three of us decided to keep certain other? branch-shaking family members out of the public eye. Though that was hardly difficult, seeing as how someone kept refusing their Bloodclaw nominations."


    Naarviix merely tilted her head and stuck her tongue out at him. An act that caused Conrad to grin and reminded him more of an adorable Blep than a rude gesture.


    Ruufarrl also gave her antics a chuckle before continuing, "But, she is right, after a fashion." This admission caused her to sit up straight, tilt her chin up and pull her elbows back and rotate her wrists up and level to the floor, preening in a gesture that was very reminiscent of a human''s "hero pose". A pose that Ruufarrl studiously ignored as he continued.


    "My meeting you and the subsequent fight with the raiders is more providence than planning. As I mentioned before, I had intended to make an offer that would slowly ease you in after you and Kiiroth began to get along. That, unfortunately, was not able to come to pass in that way. The rest... you know, or have come to learn, at any rate."


    Ruushaan nodded as his father finished, "Before I answer your earlier question, there is something I wish to learn. Knowing about the Founders as you do, and the difficulties inherent in continuing, can I ask why you are seeing this through? It is hardly a requirement, and the mere mention of a Human as being worthy would have started movement."


    Conrad paused as he thought about his answer. He knew parts of it, but why was he doing this, personally. Finally, he smiled as the answer came to him from his own nature.


    "For several reasons. First, is that I think there are a lot of similarities between our people, things that we can use to build a relationship from, more so than with some other species. We are practically neighbors, galactically speaking, but we have been doing little more than glare over the fence at each other after the landlords introduced us. I have realized that this is something that humanity needs. We have seen ourselves as alone in the stars for so long, we need something or someone to relate to and keep us in check. To foster growth and cooperation beyond the norm. We don''t want this to end with bad blood, and we don''t want to become bloodied tyrants or conquerors. That is something that would have a far more dire effect on us farther down the road, not to mention the rest of the galaxy.


    A large part of it is also out of respect. I believe that Ruufarrl can attest to this after what he saw in my martial school but¡­ declining an honor such as this over personal reservations is an unspeakably rude breach of conduct and a slap in the face to those who offered. I recognized this for what it was, and what it could mean. I know the difficulties and dangers, and I don''t care about them. I have never backed down from a fight."


    He gestured back at the auditorium they had just come from. "Clearly, even when I should have. I began picking up on the Founder thing even back on the Dark Meridian. Just from the wording of certain things and the actions of certain people. In the end, I guess I am also doing it to stick my finger in their eyes and prove that I can, just to spite them."


    Naarviix grinned at him, Ruufarrl gave a rumbling chuckle, and Ruushaan hid his face in his hands and groaned before laughing. He looked at his father as he pulled his head out of his arms, "Only you could have found another like you by stumbling about blindly in the dark vastness of space." Ruufarrl gave him an apologetic tilt of his head and ears as he responded, "Providence."


    Ruushaan snorted and continued his conversation with Conrad, "To answer your question. The Founders are not strictly necessary anymore, but at one time they absolutely were. Long before the Community came to be, something like three to four thousand years ago, the Founders were part of a burgeoning and somewhat crowded sector of space. The one that makes up the core of our current territory. There were nine of them back then, and they worked at odds to one another to gain an advantage. They learned of three predatory, warlike species that were in nearby space, but were unable to think of a way to counter them. During this time of soft conflict, they were met with a new race. One that claimed to hold the answers to their problems. As they interacted with this new people and took the knowledge that was offered, they noticed a disturbing trend. People were going missing. Sometimes they would be found again, but they were never the same and had been... greatly changed. These new people came to be known as the Takers, and they represented the greatest threat the Founders had ever known.


    They began to investigate, then resisted and pushed back against them, but the Founders were also a species capable of war, and they brought it to the Founder''s homes. They eradicated one of the founding species in the opening conflicts, before anyone could mount an effective defense. The Taker¡¯s technologies gave them a massive advantage. Originally, only the Flokians were capable of effectively resisting, but it wasn''t enough. In the end, all of them, the remaining eight and the three war-faring species banded together to stop them. The war was multi-generational, and genocidal. By the time the joined people finally won and killed every last of the Takers, two of the war-faring species, and two more of the others were wiped from the face of the galaxy, leaving only seven behind. These past two days of mourning and celebration were created at the end of that war. To mourn their dead¡­ and celebrate their futures.


    The Founders may not be needed now, but in times like this, when a people like your own suddenly shows up at our doorstep, it is a bitter and stark reminder of why they are still there."


    He paused a moment to let this sink in, as Naarviix and Conrad both sat transfixed by the story. "This story is now not common knowledge. Most records of the Founding War have been destroyed. But I have some... sources that are willing to bend a few rules for me. When this all started, when I first took over as First Claw, I made sure I had ready access to information that I felt could be used in dealing with the Founders, should they show up at my doorstep. It turns out that I have not needed it but..." He waved his hand at the bookcases on the walls, "The habit is one that I enjoy."


    Ruufarrl grunted as though he had forgotten something, pulling out the bag he had brought with him, "Speaking of knowing a people. These are for you. It turns out that Humanity also has a love of knowledge and sharing it. I think you will find these to be quite enlightening and useful in the coming days."


    Ruushaan dug through the bag and began pulling out books as Conrad and Naarviix looked on in curiosity. Some of them Conrad recognized, but Ruufarrl had apparently gotten others when he wasn''t looking.


    Ruushaan recited the titles as he found them, "The Art of War, Maxims of War, The Prince, To Fall Seven and Rise Eight, The Nine Rings, Modern Military History... What is all this?" He asked, looking up at Conrad and his father as he continued rooting through the bag.


    "Ehh, a crash course in humanity?" Conrad ventured as he shrugged, "Honestly, your father got almost all of those, the only one I picked out was Art of War."


    "They are worthwhile knowledge, my son. Read them and you will see that we have completely misjudged them. Start with Art of War, as it is shorter and easier to read. Then look at the last one you mentioned, as it contains their standardized Rules of War."


    "They have standardized Rules of War?" he tilted his head at Conrad, one ear forward.


    Conrad smiled wryly, "Think of it like this...


    We put the protective gloves on ourselves, because not even we like what we become when we take the gloves off."

 Chapter 22

    -Conrad-


    Ruushaan sat back and was silent for a time, considering Conrad''s words. Naarviix was watching intently, her head swiveling back and forth from each of the others, very interested in this new information. Ruufarrl was, for his part, merely watching his son''s reaction and waiting for him to reach his conclusions.


    "Hmm, it is a wise warrior who tempers himself. But that is on an individual level. I wonder... what are your people''s general objectives when it comes to war? A people that handicaps themselves during a life-or-death fight is not likely to see it in the same manner as others would." Ruushaan''s ears flicked in anticipation as he continued mulling over the potential answers and waited for Conrad''s response.


    "I..." Conrad paused to get his thoughts in order, not wanting to misrepresent his entire species at what could be a critical juncture.


    "The first thing to know is that I am not, nor ever have been, a soldier. My interpretations are those of a civilian who is more or less knowledgeable about our history. If you want a more informed answer, it would be best if you spoke to a soldier of some rank... Fair?"


    Ruushaan nodded, accepting his caveat.


    "Whoo, O.K. The answer is... complicated. Our wars are fought over a smaller series of objectives that work towards the larger end goal. We fight with the idea in mind of ending the fighting as quickly, efficiently and bloodlessly as possible. We don''t fight wars of extermination or genocide. We fight over places and things, mostly. We consider genocide and extermination to be an abomination."


    Conrad paused a moment to consider his words before continuing, "Well, for wars at least. When fighting terrorists, it becomes a different story. Those are our equivalent of Broken Fangs, people who care nothing for the same rules the rest follow and are willing to kill, or take advantage of, any and all to achieve their goals. They get whacked as soon as we can track them down.


    But war, war is different. I think that we, as a people, have taken on a ''You Break it, You Buy it'' approach to war. We don''t try and destroy everything, because that means that we have to spend more resources to rebuild it. We focus on breaking only what is necessary to stop an opponent from effectively fighting back against us. Arms depots, bases, vehicle lots and the like. We can? destroy everything if it comes down to it, but we don''t like doing it. We don''t like collateral damage, and we don''t like innocents suffering because of the decisions made by those who dictated the war and who aren''t even there fighting themselves. We don''t just bomb someone back to the stone age and leave them there while dusting our hands of it. We could, I suppose. But in the end, what does that make us?


    Even when we are in the midst of showing and using our teeth and claws, we try our best to show mercy and compassion, respect and honor. Even in the depths of the hell that is War, we seek to retain our humanity, our sense of self and being."


    Realizing he had waxed a bit on the poetic side Conrad waved his hands in front of him, "But that is just a nobody''s view on things, and individual warriors will have their own views on it. Like I said, I have never been to war, you would be better served talking to someone who has to get a better perspective on this subject."


    With his own misgivings and opinions aired, he found himself surprised as Ruufarrl spoke up in support of his observations, "It does seem strange, a species that is almost at odds with itself in a way that means they shouldn''t? be capable warriors. But I have seen their soldiers, and their warships, and there are books in that pile that explain most of their military capabilities, all of which is truth. Make no mistake, they are plenty capable.


    They also show the utmost respect to the dead, any dead. They gave Kiiroth full military honors when I visited their planet. Treating him as though he were one of their own fallen heroes. What other species do you know of that would do the same, Ruushaan?"


    "None." Ruushaan sat staring at the ceiling before snorting, "Not even ourselves. Not to one that was unknown to us, at any rate. We have done it for those who have been witnessed to fight well, who have acquitted themselves or died well. But never for an unknown. As for Honor... unfortunately, Honor is subjective. What one considers to be a most respectful act could well be a vile and deathly insult to another.


    But, having said that, I feel that perhaps our? views on Honor aren''t all that far apart. It is certainly something to explore, if time and circumstances permit."


    "If time and circumstances permit," a frustrated Naarviix spat out. She had been listening intently, but now her mood turned a corner as she listened to Ruushaan''s seemingly non-committal response.


    "Grraahh, is this not why we are here? To create those circumstances? Why can we not speak plainly in here at least? We all tire of the games that we are forced to endure. I want to learn more, you want to learn more, and we all want our family back. His people are worthy and can be proven so if given the chance. So how are we going to go about proving it to others? And can we please drop the double speak for once?"


    Both Ruufarrl and Ruushaan were taken aback by her outburst, if not for the content than at least for the act itself. But it was one particular part of it that caught Conrad''s attention, bringing back to him observations he had made before.


    "Wait, how long have you kept your family scattered to insulate them?"


    Ruufarrl sighed and Ruushaan looked at him in surprise before unconsciously scratching at himself uneasily. "Close to four years." Ruufarrl answered, "Around the same time I realized that the Founders were looking in my direction because of my policies and intentions."


    Conrad looked at his feet in thought. That was a long time, for anyone, he knew. His one-year tour on the ship had been bad enough, and he knew military personnel did similar tours, but for a family to willingly split itself for so long just to keep themselves safe was... He couldn''t imagine the stress and difficulty.


    Naarviix''s outburst had surprised him as well. He had been astonished to see the brightly curious and bubbly woman who, though impulsive, seemed to be in perfect control of herself, lash out in frustration. "We all wear masks. Mostly for the benefit of others, but sometimes to hide from ourselves. Their masks are slipping and cracking. The long term situation they have imposed on themselves is wearing them to the bone. In a way, they have all Sheathed their Claws and are suffering from the absence of their clan and family. It won''t be much longer before those cracks begin showing in public."


    He heard a chair shift and looked up to see Ruushaan and Naarviix with their heads together, speaking quietly. It was an intimate moment that he knew he would never have seen if they did not trust him. He and Ruufarrl shared a look around the two and he nodded to his mentor as he took a deep breath and steeled himself, mind made up.


    "What is required to expedite this? What do you need to nominate my people as being worthy Hunt Brothers? An impartial third-party evaluation?"


    Ruushaan and Naarviix parted, somewhat abashed at their moment of tenderness. They recovered quickly and Ruushaan scratched his chin in thought as he mentally caught up with the conversation. "For you, that would be a good start. It would certainly bring some much-needed support to the table, and could get the talks started. But for it to be implemented fully? We would need a larger sample size of your people to also be evaluated. In days past that would be done by an observer witnessing your people in combat, but that isn''t something that can be arranged discreetly.


    We will need to start with you. Then, once that is set and you are shown to be more than worthy, we can start the rest of the process by placing individual Ruulothi in positions to meet and work with other humans. Unfortunately, it will still take some time. Probably several years."


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Conrad shook his head, "There has to be another way. I don''t think your family is going to last that long."


    "Don''t you worry about us." Naarviix smiled at him. "Thank you for your consideration but, my previous outburst aside, we will endure. We always have and always will. So long as the light continues to breach the canopies, we will endure. My apologies, Uncle, Cousin. I let my emotions take hold."


    Ruufarrl stood and went over to her, putting his hand on her shoulder, "There is no need to apologize, it is why you are a part of this circle."


    Ruushaan nodded to her in turn, "You keep us grounded and on the path when we stray and get lost in our schemes. you are as important as either of us. With you, our future lies. Regardless of the outcomes of our machinations."


    "I... thank you... I think." She gave them a playful scowl, "I may not much like being left to tend the homestead, but I agreed to it, and I suppose someone needs to navigate through this mess." She shook her head and chuckled with the others before turning back to Conrad.


    "In short, this must be done in stages and be allowed to happen organically. If we move too quickly or too boldly, it puts you at risk. If you are removed from the board, then anything else we can hope to accomplish is as well, and we are back to the start of the path with all eyes on us. If we try and force things, we will get push back and many who might have been amenable to listening will dig their claws in against it when pushed. It will also give those who would patently oppose the issue all they need to shut it down."


    Ruushaan gave her an appraising look. She grinned back at him, "See, I can play politics. It is still a stupid game, though."


    He chuffed at her and shook his head in amusement, "What she says is true, and you have likely already suspected it as such. Given what I have seen of your attention to detail, I suspect that your people may be even more obtuse when it comes to politics."


    "Oh, you have no idea how deep that rabbit hole goes." Conrad laughed. "But, it isn''t generally one that simply takes without answer. There are a lot of deals made in our politics. Garnering support now for later considerations and such. We don''t normally look to strip someone bare, just gain some sort of middle ground to say that something got done. But if you let the wrong person do it... well. There are just as many bad or selfish politicians as there are those who are looking to do right, however potentially misguided they may be."


    "Oh, so your politicians are the same as the Galactic ones." Naarviix laughed, "At least they will be on even footing and in good company."


    "The politicians, yes. But don''t get us started on our lawyers. They''ll fleece you for everything you''ve got and then litigate you because you don''t have more."


    Another round of chuckles later and Ruushaan brought them back to the desired topic.


    "As to your earlier questions... the idea holds merit, and it is one that we had been hoping to pursue. I believe we may have a path on which we can tread to reach that end. There are a number of smaller Cargo Runners that we employ. Each tour of duty is only 5-6 months with a month off in between. It is not the most glamorous of jobs, but it is one that you are familiar with, yes? There is one Captain that I have in mind that serves the Ruulothi people as a whole, and who has kept his nose clean by avoiding taking sides politically. He actively employs other Hunt Brother species in his crew and may be willing to be your evaluator. He is due to begin his next tour within the week. It would be a good time to introduce you and see where he stands on the subject."


    "Understood, I will trust your judgement on the matter."


    "Hmm, very well. I will send him a message and ask to meet. I should mention that Ruulothi Cargo Runners are not your typical cargo ships. They often go into caution zones to deliver their supplies. These Yellow and Red Zones are places that are either under threat of combative action, or are actively engaged in some sort of conflict. Our ships are smaller than the standard cargo ships, and are therefore faster and capable of planetary landings. Each member of the ship is also trained in and utilized for security. So it is entirely possible that you may see some sort of action depending on the location and circumstances. It is not without its risks, but it is a place where you and your skills can be quickly evaluated by multiple witnesses. Witnesses that will then go on to spread what they have seen and experienced alongside you. Amongst not only other clans of our people, but other Hunt-Brother species as well.¡±


    Conrad found himself nodding. The plan was a solid one, and it would serve to expand his renown quickly among the people that could influence a decision to entreat with his own people outside of Founder oversight. But, like all things worth doing, it required the time to be put in.


    ¡°There really is no silver bullet answer to this. If we want it to get done at all, then there really is no choice but to hang on just a little longer.¡±


    Conrad looked at the three Ruulothi in front of him, ¡°Then what do you need from me?¡±


    __________________________________________________


    Three days later Conrad found himself in Ruushaan¡¯s personal office yet again. This time it was only him, Ruushaan and their visitor. Ruufarrl and Naarviix had taken the opportunity to spend some family time together.


    The introductions had been quick and to the point to give their guest the respect of honoring his valuable time. Lorthaal, the Captain of the Wind Runner, was a particularly stoic Ruulothi with Black and Tan colorations. He was a Bloodclaw himself and a member of the Ember Claw Clan. The Ember Claws were longstanding allies of the Night Manes and were well known for both their individual valor and they currently ran one of the most successful trading companies on Ruuloth.


    Lorthaal currently had his head propped on one fist as he pondered the proposition that Ruushaan had laid out for him. But it didn¡¯t look to Conrad as though he was going to bite.


    ¡°Ruushaan, you know I have the utmost respect for you. And I know you respect me and know of my personal political stance. So why would you ask me to open myself and my people up to becoming embroiled in the coming storm? The humans are interesting, sure, but that is not reason enough to take on such risk.¡±


    Sitting up he turned to address Conrad directly, ¡°No disrespect intended to you, youngblood, but I do not know you, nor do any of my crew. That you have been accepted as a Bloodclaw speaks well of you, but I carefully vet my people to prevent disasters. I have no realistic way of achieving that with you, not in the time we have available.¡±


    Conrad tipped his head at the ship captain, ¡°None taken, you have your people and your ship to look after. That takes precedence over all other considerations.¡±


    Lorthaal gave Conrad a return nod as Ruushaan smiled and spoke to him, ¡°But in that, we can offer all you need. He is here so that you may interview him if you desire, but also¡­ Would you perhaps like to see how he became a Bloodclaw?¡±


    The ship captain leaned back in his chair with an incredulous flick of his ears, ¡°It was recorded?¡±


    ¡°It was indeed. For your benefit, Lorthaal, I will play the entire incident from start to finish. I believe as a Captain that it will provide you with more than enough evidence to stand in judgement of the youngblood¡¯s credentials.¡±


    ¡°We shall see. Make your play, Ruushaan.¡±


    Ruushaan pointed to the blank wall above the entry door as he pushed a hidden button to make a terminal pop out of his desk, ¡°If you would direct your attention there.¡±


    The terminal contained a projection unit and moments later it displayed the scene on the wall for the occupants of the room.


    Once again Conrad saw his actions play out through a third-party lens. It was getting less strange each time he saw it, but he wasn¡¯t watching it as much this time. He was watching his next potential boss.


    Lorthaal remained stoic throughout the entire scene, showing no overt emotion or surprise on his face. However, Conrad did notice his ears and whiskers flicking about, displaying that there was some serious thought and observations going on in his head.


    When the video ended, Lorthaal said just one word.


    ¡°Again.¡±


    After the video ended the second time, he repeated himself.


    It wasn¡¯t until the end of the third viewing that he turned back to Rushaan and told him, ¡°Enough.¡±


    After that he remained quiet and lost in thought for several minutes. Ruushaan took that time to turn off the display and put the terminal away again.


    Finally, he spoke again, his eyes still closed in thought, ¡°Fine. I have no more reservations about his worthiness for being on the crew, nor any for his mentor, who would be joining him, yes?¡±


    ¡°Correct. Ruufarrl would be joining the crew with him, to continue to teach him and work as an intermediary as necessary.¡±


    ¡°How then do you propose to deal with the other issues. That of the politics and risk?¡±


    ¡°Politics are, as always, nebulous and open to interpretation. If it soothes you, you could simply say that you allowed a fledgling Bloodclaw to serve on your ship to gain valuable experience and training. You are well known for employing other species on your ship, so it would not be a stretch for you to take the opportunity to see what this new species could offer you and your Clan.¡±


    ¡°That is thin Ruushaan, and you know it.¡±


    ¡°Not as thin as it could be. The humans are beginning to make a name for themselves wherever they work. It could indeed be a grand opportunity for your Clan. A potential new pool of strong and skilled workers, as well as potential new trade routes and goods to access. Trade with them is regulated, but only for now, and none of your Clan have sought to gain access just yet. Getting ahead of the waiting pack to jump on new opportunities is what your Clan does best, no?¡±


    ¡°Hmm, perhaps¡­ And the rest?¡±


    ¡°That is¡­ trickier.¡± Ruushaan sighed, ¡°What I can offer off hand is compensation for catastrophic failure. What little comfort it may provide. Unless you have something else in mind?¡±


    Lorthaal winced in sympathy. ¡°That¡­ Wouldn¡¯t be cheap. With the time we have left¡­ No, nothing comes to mind. It will be in writing I presume?¡±


    ¡°Of course. Are there any other concerns?¡±


    Captain Lorthaal looked at Conrad, ¡°You have made it this far into Galactic space and served on a ship already, you can eat Galactic Standard food and have Standard Immunizations?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    ¡°Are there any abnormal space or housing considerations?¡±


    ¡°No, sir. I travel light and don¡¯t need anything special.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± He stood up and made ready to leave. ¡°We depart in two days, two hours after sunrise at the main Shuttle Port of the Capital, Berth Seven. Make sure I have the full list of needs by then. Be there early and ready to work, or don¡¯t come at all.¡±


    He headed for the door but paused as he touched the handle and spoke over his shoulder, ¡°I hope you know what you are doing, Ruushaan. This is either going to make or break us all, and there will be many who will be angry that you made the decision for them. Tread carefully.¡±


    His warning given, Captain Lorthaal left the room, letting the door swing shut on its own.


    Conrad watched him leave. When the door shut, he fell back into his chair and looked at the First Claw, ¡°That was a sudden change. How exactly did you convince him to allow it?¡±


    Ruushaan smiled at him ¡°I didn¡¯t, you did. He was already assessing you the moment he stepped through the door. You talked to him with respect and didn¡¯t take offense when you could have, showing you could use logic and reason and control your emotions. Then he watched as you showed leadership qualities, leading your crewmates to relative safety.


    He saw in you a willingness to stand between your crew and harm, and no hesitation when it came time to act, even though the odds should have been impossible to overcome. An expert¡¯s familiarity with a loading rig certainly added a sweet touch to the pile.


    After that, it was just a matter of business. I did nothing really. I simply told him what he wanted to hear, and what he already knew himself. He just wanted to be sure that we were on the same path.¡±


    He stood up and motioned for Conrad to do the same. ¡°Now, come. We have only a few days to give you a rundown on how Ruulothi ships and employment work as well as security procedures and tactics. We have much to go over, and not enough time to do it. You are going to be tested constantly and worked hard, by both the Captain and the crew. My Father and Naarviix will teach you as much of that as they can in the time that we have.¡±


    He stopped, standing still for a moment before sighing, ¡°And I have to go back to being the First Claw. This is likely the last I will see of you for some time, so¡­


    Good Hunting, Claw Brother.¡±

 Chapter 23

    ???-Naarviix-


    "So, there is something I don''t understand. If it is so problematic that humans are interacting with other species and making inroads and relationships with them... Why haven''t they just flat out banned contact? It seems like that would be the best option, wouldn''t it?"


    Naarviix lay back and purred softly in thought, her ears flicking alternately. They were currently sitting on conforming couches in the manor''s garden, and she had just surrendered herself to the comfort of her couch. They had come here often over the past few days as they got Conrad ready for his new job. The clean air worked wonders for keeping them from getting overwhelmed with the mental fatigue of the training. The fact that it rarely rained here made it even easier to stay outside and enjoy sunning oneself while they worked.


    Ruufarrl was off playing uncle to the cubs and Huurnsul was, sadly, back to work, but she would still get to see him every night. The others had immediately hailed off back to their jobs, and Ruushaan had gone back to basically living at the Clan Chambers. She hadn''t seen him since their meeting after the Confirmation Ceremony and didn''t expect to see him again at least until his wife and child returned from their "trip".


    "I would have to say that it is mostly a matter of politics and timing, with a fair bit of policy woven in. You spoke before of how your species met GalCom, yes?"


    Conrad nodded, "Yes. It was mostly by chance, we jumped into an inhabited system after building drives to carry us across the Gulf and investigate a signal. There was some confusion on first contact, but we found a way around it."


    "Found a way around it indeed," she laughed. "Your people moved quickly. They translated some of the local system''s language and sent in a drone, a neutral and safe alternative to a full-on ship equipped to deal with any problems it might find. From there, the discourse started. Your people found out about the application process to become a part of the Galactic Community, and immediately began the process required for it, hoping to find allies and partners out in the stars."


    "Well, yeah is that so surprising? We are a social species¡­ well, mostly. Up until then, we had thought we were alone. Of course we would jump on the chance to seek out new things and people, technologies and sciences, cultures and worlds. We have always been explorers, and this was a chance to basically get a guided tour of things we had never seen or experienced before. A fast track to new developments and resources that up until then we had no idea even existed."


    "This is true, and your earnestness put you in a strange position. Because you had moved so quickly and so publicly, there was no other option but to entertain your application. They couldn''t reject it off hand because you already had a reputation. This meant that they had to allow some contact. Provisional Community members are allowed limited trade, travel and other such things in the spirit of creating a place for them in the Community. They also don''t prevent people from travelling wherever they wish. If someone wants to risk exploring unknown sectors of space and peoples, then that is entirely up to them. They could hardly stop it. Can you imagine trying to prevent single ships from crossing your interstellar territory''s borders?"


    She watched as he absently shook his head as he seemed to consider just what kind of material and manpower would be required to put a blanket blockade over the vastness of space. There simply was no calculating the numbers properly, she knew. "If there were defined jump points or warp gates or something like that, I suppose it would be possible. Well, remotely plausible at least. For now, it is mostly just "That" direction is where people come from. It just happens to be easier for us thanks to the stellar topography. Come to think of it, I''ve never really looked it up. How are there never accidents? I get that space is vast, but surely there must be some points that get congested enough to cause jump accidents."


    Naarviix shook her head and chuffed at him. She hesitated a moment to think about what course the conversation might take but chose to elaborate anyway.


    "I am not a physicist, but my understanding is that it has something to do with how the Jump drive follows a pre-connected path that shuts out local interference within a certain range, even "pushing" local obstructions out of the way, in the way that only multi-dimensional space can. It would kind of be like having a piece of taut fabric with a ball that moves inside or underneath. Something attached to the fabric would move, relatively, whenever the ball passed by it. If that ball had a hole to come out of, anything near the hole itself would be... "moved" aside before the ball exited the hole, all without ever actually having moved in our dimensional space. But if something is bigger than the ball, the hole gets "pushed" to the closest safe place along the chosen route instead. It¡¯s all... Mass, Energy and Gravity and Quantum Tunneling of some sort, the component parts of which are why we can''t jump in too close to a planet or star, we just get shunted out early if we try. The bigger the ship or synchronized jump group, and thereby the bigger the mass and energy signature, the bigger the safe area on arrival. Your people used a different method of jumping to reach it, but the end result was the same. The Physics will not be denied, even when the physics themselves break the known laws."


    She waved her hand somewhat dismissively as she talked, it really was beyond her complete understanding, and she had given him the best visualization that she could offer.  "It is also the best that I have heard anyone come up with. Visualizing space beyond the third dimension can be mind-breaking and is usually left to the computers. But a few people can do it well enough to give us a ''close enough'' approximation. A curious mind is a good thing, but it is time to bring this back to the topic at hand."


    "Now, to finish your question... I think the biggest limiting factor, even today, is that not everyone has refitted their ships with the engines capable of crossing the Expanse. Otherwise, you would likely be seeing far more cross over than you have. Only the larger trade and tour vessels have found it worth doing... in the public sector at least. I would not be surprised if my people and the other military arms have completely refitted their ships with the appropriate engines, just in case. It would hardly be fitting to sit back on our haunches while a potential threat has demonstrated that they can do something that you cannot. That can reach you when you cannot return the favor, now would it?"


    "Some may think of that as giving secrets away, but it is hardly anything more than common sense. A few moments of consideration is all it would take for someone to come to the same conclusion."


    "Yeah, that makes sense... And if we wanted to be in free contact with the Community, there is hardly any way that we couldn''t have shared those drive plans either. That would be an awfully one sided and awkward relationship."


    Naarviix smiled to herself, "See, just simple common sense. If only people thought more these days instead of yapping mindlessly."


    "To return to our original path, this ship is going to be far smaller and different than the one you are used to. The crew is smaller and more closely knit. They depend on one another fully, especially as they all serve as security in addition to their other jobs. You are also going to have another responsibility on top of those assigned to you on the ship. That responsibility is to represent your people in the best possible manner you can. There are three species serving on this ship, not including yourself. All of them are people who are quite capable of fighting and who serve as part of the Military Arms of the Community. Making a good impression on them is going to be paramount for amicable relations in the future.


    Now, as the ship''s cargo space is more limited, so the downtime is longer between jobs. There is less... make work to be done. Captain Lorthaal has deigned to include a fitness module in his ship for this extra downtime, one that can adjust the gravity panels to stronger or lighter levels. He trains his people hard, and they often spar with one another to keep themselves sharp. This would be a good place to make your capabilities known, bond with your crewmates and learn the capabilities of those around you.


    The crew will not shun you like your old crew did. They only care that you can do your job. To be entirely fair, you might well already be a minor celebrity on the ship by the time you get to it. Don''t think that the display of evidence during your Blooding Ceremony stayed there. They will be curious, and eager to test you."


    His crestfallen look amused her, and she couldn''t help but laugh at his expense, "And now you know why I never accepted the offer of Claw Sister. It is simply no one else''s business what I did to earn it. If I want to train in the old ways of the Night Manes, research patterns of crime in my home region, use it to track a hiding band of Broken Fangs and hunt them down, that is my business. The less others know about me the better. It isn''t any fun if you can''t surprise people when it counts., and a lady has to have her secrets, after all."


    "Oh, don''t worry, I am sure you will meet their expectations... eventually. It is kind of hard to live up to being a Matron Killer after all."


    He looked up at her sharply, "Please tell me they aren''t actually calling me that."


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    She gave a wan shrug and wave of her hand, but her ears still flicked back and forth in amusement, "Too early to tell. But it is an accurate assessment though, is it not?"


    The human dropped his head into his hands with a loud sigh. She couldn''t hold back her grin and started purring in response to his chagrin. "Oh, you make it too easy to tease."


    The sound of an approaching air car signaled the return of her Uncle and her children. They both looked up to follow its progress around the Garden and down to the open car park. She sighed contentedly and looked over at her charge, "It looks like our lessons have ended. Do not fret, you will do just fine. Uncle will be with you on the ship to guide you, not that I feel you will need it. You are quite adept at picking up on what is going on around you and seeing to the truth of matters. I doubt that it will be too much removed from what you have already experienced."


    "Here is hoping. There is a lot more riding on this than there was before, and my last crew wasn''t watching my every move and judging me for the future of both our species."


    She gave him a coy grin and called to him over her shoulder as she stood up to go meet her family, "Are you sure of that?"


    She couldn''t see his reaction because her back was turned by then, but she could feel his eyes on her back and hear the sudden stillness of his apprehension, unsure of whether she was jesting with or warning him. She was informing him that there was always more than meets the eye, but if she was going to be honest with herself, it was mostly the former.


    "Too easy."


    ____________________________________________________


    -Conrad-


    "She has to be messing with me again. Right?"


    He watched Naarviix scoop up her cubs and swing them around, eliciting excited mews and laughter. Even Ruufarrl gave a contented smile as he waited to report on their days'' activities. But his own thoughts kept him distracted and a little removed from the display and events.


    In the end, he decided that there was nothing he could do about it anyway, "No point in dwelling over what may have been. Just be aware of it in the future, not that I couldn''t be at this point. But maybe that is what she was trying to get at. Every interaction with humans becomes a lens with which the other species view us. No matter how insignificant the interaction. What was that weird old phrase, The axe forgets, but the tree remembers? We are still rare and new in Galactic space. Their people are working off rumors and suspicions when dealing with us, so it all reflects on us as a whole. I knew that before, deep down. But confronting it openly in this context is something else entirely, and what I needed to do after the whirlwind that my life has been after the attack. I''m no longer just a guy trying to do a good job and let that be my legacy. Now there is so much more that I have to admit to myself and meet face on...


    Damn, she is good. She would be a far more terrifying politician than either Ruufarrl


    or Ruushaan. They deal with things in their own way in the open. Her... Her they will never see coming... Probably a good thing she stays away from politics as much as possible... Ahh Hell, at some point I am going to have to go back and report on all this to someone, aren''t I? Man is that day going to suck."


    He looked up to new squeals and saw that the cubs were playing hide and seek with their mother, who was chasing them about the garden. The young ones had gotten used to his presence and weren''t as shy and reserved anymore, so they felt comfortable enough to play around him, and sometimes even on him. He smiled to himself as he went to join the others and debrief with Ruufarrl on what they had gone over that day.


    "That day is going to suck... but it is not today."


    _____________________________________________________


    The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. They had gone inside to conduct final preparations for Conrad, which mostly consisted of him packing what little he had on him into his travel bag and go over the boarding procedures for Ruulothi vessels.


    Their ship-based procedures largely reminded him of human maritime traditions, which was different to the Galactic Standard on trading vessels. There the Captain dealt solely with the operation of the ship, and the personnel matters were handled by subordinates. It was rare for a Galactic Captain to involve himself with crewmembers beyond the Command Staff.


    For the Ruulothi it was run more like a military ship. All respect was paid to both the ship and the Captain and they, or their Second in Command, would directly meet non crew at the ramps and give final authorization to board only after the proper decorum of asking permission to join the ship and crew was seen to and identities verified.


    Given that Ruulothi ships often armed their crew and had an Armory on board, and were themselves armed in some fashion, it made plenty of sense to ensure they had the right people on board.


    After that they waited for Huurnsul to return home and had dinner. Then it was off to bed before launching off on yet another part of this wild journey of his.


    ____________________________________________


    Thanks to his foresight in packing the night before, they were able to make the Shuttle Port with plenty of time to spare. While going through their customs and waiting in the lobby areas, he noticed a few distinct differences between Human and Ruulothi ports. He hadn¡¯t even seen the inside of the public port on his trip down, as he had been immediately shuttled over to the Night Mane¡¯s private port.


    Now that he was here, there were some glaring differences that took him a minute to identify, as the idea of them was so alien to him that he was chasing his mind in circles trying to figure out just why his senses were going off.


    First was that it was far quieter in the Ruulothi port than it was in a Human one. There was a low drone of quiet conversations and the occasional general notification of boarding, but none of the music, raised voices, and clamor of a public place related to humanity. He understood now why Ruufarrl had been a little disoriented on his arrival to Nueva Rios.


    The Ruuothi shops were tailored solely to conveniences for travelers. They sold necessities, information and wrist link programs and updates for various locations, with only a couple shops selling food for those that waited. Noticeably absent were larger, more varied commerce places, food courts and souvenir shops.


    He didn¡¯t really need a souvenir, but he thought it might have been interesting to see what they considered to curios and collectables. As a Bloodclaw, he kind of already had the ultimate souvenir in his Mantle, but maybe something to display at wherever he decided to settle down would be nice.


    ¡°Speaking of homes¡­ I am going to need to figure that out eventually. It wasn¡¯t something I really needed before, living on the ship as I was and with Mom and Dad willing to let me crash there in between. But now it looks like it is something that will need to become a priority, depending on how this all turns out. I will need to be able to be found.¡±


    Conrad caught movement coming towards them, and recognized Lorthaal weaving his way across the commons area towards them. Conrad got Ruufarrl¡¯s attention and indicated to him the imminent arrival of their new Captain.


    ¡°But, for now, another ship.¡±


    Both Conrad and Ruufarrl were standing and ready when Lorthaal arrived. He gave them a quick appraising look and nodded with a grunt, ¡°Good, follow me.¡±


    They trailed Lorthaal for several minutes. He took them through and past several checkpoints that separated the travelers from the workers and into the back halls and loading areas.


    Their trek ended at an open bay, where crews were loading cargo containers into the forward bay of a wicked looking ship. It had a clear predatory feel, with forward swept lines and wings which had engines slung under the shoulders, and an angled, split tail that rose around a twin bayed engine with vectoring nozzles.


    Conrad could see a series of blisters, one under the nose and one in the middle of the spine, and a couple more on either side, both top and bottom. He suspected that the nose and spine blisters were retractable gun turrets, while the others were sensor pods. He could also see a rolling boarding ramp snugged up to a hatch behind one of the wings.


    The ship rested on four heavy landing struts that terminated in multi-wheeled feet. It was about a hundred and fifty meters long and the body was about thirty meters wide. As far as cargo ships went, it was on the larger size of the small haulers and about at the size cap for planetary landings. All told it was about an eighth of the size of the Dark Meridian that he had previously served on.


    The cargo bay ran the length of the ship¡¯s belly, with the majority of anchor points running along the outer sides of the hull, and Conrad could see the crew organizing the containers to account for ballast


    Lorthaal waved to another Ruulothi, a large orange and cream-colored male, who approached and gave him a Ruulothi salute of a claw across the chest and his chin to the sky, exposing his throat. ¡°Captain. We are on schedule and will be ready for lift off in twenty minutes.¡±


    ¡°Good. These are the new crew members that I spoke of the other day. Gentlemen, this is Voorkar, my second in command. Treat his instructions and orders as though they came from me. Voorkar, please see to their boarding, I will take over here.¡±


    ¡°Understood, sir. Come with me, we will take the boarding ramp. Once inside I will show you to your quarters. We will gather all crew in the meal hall to give you a briefing after we reach orbit.¡±


    Voorkar was more talkative than Lorthaal and explained things as they walked.


    ¡°The two of you will be bunking together. Our berths are simple two bed bunks, with nine berths around a single common room, of which we have four, plus the Officer¡¯s quarters closer to the control center of the ship. There is a single central hall that is under the spine, but it dips and rises with stairs depending on the section of the ship you are in. It does this for both convenience and access to ship areas, and to create chokepoints for defense.¡±


    He paused at the bottom of the ramp to make sure they were listening and ready to board. ¡°There is also an armory in the crew section, if you have any personal firearms, they will be stored there. You may keep a small blade on yourself if you desire. DO you have anything that needs to be secured?¡±


    They both gave him a negative answer, and he grunted in response.


    ¡°Very well. This here is the only airlock into the ship, so any attempted takeover from the outside will occur from here, remember that should the situation arise. Now, please, go on up and head in. I will follow.¡±


    The entryway airlock was simple and barren, and the room beyond was more of a gear hold than anything else. It held eight Ruulothi enviro-suits contained inside of lockers, with some gear boxes underneath and little else of note. The corridors, rooms and containment doorways were cramped for a Ruulothi, but were comfortable for Conrad, an unexpected benefit.


    ¡°I apologize, but we have no Environment suits for humans just yet. We hope to remedy that issue at a later date.¡±


    ¡°That is entirely understandable, this was all rather quick notice after all.¡±


    Voorkar nodded in appreciation at Conrad¡¯s latitude to their equipment issue, then continued to lead them through the ship. He pointed out the various sections of the ship as they went, until finally they reached their room.


    ¡°This is your room, get yourselves situated, and be strapped in for takeoff in¡­ fifteen minutes. You don¡¯t want to be rolling around loose while we are accelerating and maneuvering in atmosphere. I will come to get you for the meeting when it is time.¡±


    Once he was gone and the door shut Conrad took a deep breath and began putting his things away. ¡°Well, this is a cozy little ship. A nice layout that is easy to remember.¡±


    Ruufarrl chuffed at his observation, ¡°Indeed. The simplicity may not make sense to others, but few would be willing to cross a Ruulothi warrior in such close quarters, so it works for us.¡±


    He stopped to dig around in his pack before handing a small case to Conrad, ¡°Before I forget, this is for you. It is traditional to award a new Bloodclaw with a personal blade on approval, but I noticed that you had some difficulty wielding weapons that were created for us, so I asked to have something custom made. I used some of the research I did using the books I bought, your human network, and the weapons in your Fighting Studio during my visit to have this crafted, I believe it is called a Karambit?¡±


    Conrad opened the case and found a beautiful, curved blade made in a fusion of both Ruulothi and Human design. The handle was made of a dark red wood and had the typical ring associated with karambits and finger grooves for retaining control. The inside of the blade was a smooth curve around to the point, where it swept back into the more angular Ruulothi edgework, with the front third of the back edge being sharpened as well.


    Conrad pulled it out and gave it a few experimental twirls, finding it to be quite well balanced. He didn¡¯t dare to test the edge with his finger, as it had the telltale sheen of a mono-edged blade.


    ¡°This¡­ is an incredible piece. I honestly don¡¯t know what to say.¡±


    Ruufarrl grinned at him, ¡°There is no need to say anything. We can¡¯t exactly have a Bloodclaw that doesn¡¯t have any claws, now can we?¡±

 Chapter 24

    -Conrad-


    AAAARREEEEENNN!!¡­ AAAARREEEEENNN!!¡­ AAAARREEEEENNN!!


    ¡°Fire in the Reactor Room. Fire in the Reactor Room.¡±


    ¡°Suppression system failure. Suppression system failure.¡±


    ¡°Reactor lockdown initiated. Reactor lockdown initiated.¡±


    ¡°Reactor Room Purge starting in Twenty Seconds.¡±


    Conrad and the others in his housing pod¡¯s rec area looked up in a brief moment of shock as the brilliant blue and white emergency lights, alarms and automated messages began blaring, announcing the impending doom of anyone working in the Reactor Room.


    In any normal crew the announcements would cause them to freeze until their training kicked in or possibly even panic, but this was a crew made up of Veterans and Warriors.


    Their little rec area exploded into the organized chaos of crew scrambling for emergency duty stations, and Conrad could hear shouting and the clanging of feet slamming into the deck plates as the other areas reacted as well.


    Conrad had long ago built the habit of keeping his utility harness on anytime he wasn¡¯t asleep, so he responded immediately himself, bolting out the door just behind the leading crewmembers.


    ¡°Damn, there really is always someone faster.¡±


    As someone with the primary duty of Maintenance Technician his job was to find the solutions to mechanical issues.


    In this case there were three issues in front of him to address; the failure of the fire suppression system to activate, which was causing the automated system to seal the doors keeping crew inside the Reactor Room. and that of the fire source itself.


    He had no access to the fire, so that was out. Nor could he risk the rest of the ship and crew by opening the Reactor doors in a Purge event, which meant the oxygen in the affected area, and all attached unsealed areas, would be vented out to kill the fire¡­ and those still inside the room.


    That left only the Suppression System. He did not know what fault would occur to prevent it from activating, but he knew that there was a manual override outside and inside of each sealable section. If, for some reason, the crew in the affected section could not get to the override, it was a Maintenance Tech¡¯s job to do it from the outside.


    Preferably before everyone inside was killed by the Purge.


    This meant that Conrad had to cover about 50 meters of winding, narrow and suddenly crowded bulkheads to cover, and virtually no time in which to do it.


    He chose to pour on the speed and let the dust settle after.


    Thanks to the lower standard gravity in GalCom ships he was able to make far better time moving at speed than even the normally faster Ruulothi. Long crouching strides carried him through the halls at the speed a normal run for him would cover. Stairs up became a couple of long jumps, and stairs down became a simple skipping step. He launched himself around clusters of crewmates and individuals who didn¡¯t see him coming, ricocheting himself off the walls to recover his momentum and move on.


    The hardest part of his madcap dash through the ship was the doorways that forced him to slow down and time his movements to when there was the most space available. The ship worked in two shifts, so many were already at their posts. Once he got ahead of those responding from their various rec areas he was in the clear to move as needed.


    For the most part the crew were already familiar of his unique style of emergency movement. They had been working together for a around a week and a half now and were well aware of the Human pinball that served with them. Those that heard him coming made way for him and made sure the doorways were clear, not only because of his movements, but because he was someone that could fix the problem.


    A problem that he was rapidly running out of time to fix.


    ¡°Purge in Ten...¡±


    ¡°Shit¡­ come on, almost there.¡± He pushed himself to go faster, now past the level in which he felt he could safely control his movement.


    ¡°Nine¡­¡±


    ¡°There!¡± He reached the place at the back of the ship the branched the hallway to either side and had a set of stairs going straight and down a level. The override switch was in an access port on the slanted ceiling of the stairwell, in the wall and out of the way. This served to prevent injury on corners and edges during atmospheric operations and combat.


    ¡°Eight¡­¡±


    He pulled out his square-tipped, universal maintenance key and braced himself, reaching for the access port.


    ¡°Seven¡­¡±


    Conrad slammed the key home and popped the hatch, pushing it up hard enough to slam into the ceiling, where magnets held it in place.


    ¡°Six¡­¡±


    Whether because of his slamming the hatch or because of desperation from the countdown, Conrad began to hear slamming and heavily muffled shouts coming from the other side of the Reactor Room door just in front of him. He had to mentally force himself to ignore them and focus on his task.


    The access port had a series of four lights along the top, four above another access key point and one to the side. Two glowed the Ruulothi red of a properly operating system. Three glowed the blue of a malfunction. Two of the lights showing faults were above a key port and the third was on the side above a button. Using the lights, he quickly diagnosed the problem. The influx valve was stuck closed, resulting in the machinery shutting down to prevent overpressure, a completely different catastrophe waiting to happen.


    ¡°Five¡­¡±


    He put the key into the first offending blue light¡¯s port and cranked it around so that the valve was forced open. Its light turned red.


    ¡°Four¡­¡±


    The banging and screaming were increasing in both volume and frequency while the flashing emergency lights and alarms continued to assault his senses. It sounded now like someone had grabbed a tool or some other object and was banging on the door with it.


    He put the key into the last blue port and turned it in order to activate the pumps and prime the system again, and was rewarded with the sound of machinery inside the wall rumbling to life. It, too, turned to red.


    ¡°Three¡­¡±


    He watched a pressure gauge begin to rise to marked pressure levels, and his hand hovered over the emergency restart button.


    ¡°Two¡­¡±


    ¡°Come on, comeoncomeoncomeon¡­ Go FASTER!!¡±


    ¡°One¡­¡±


    The gauge ticked over to safe operational levels as the countdown came to the final moments, and he slammed his hand down on the emergency restart.


    ¡°Suppression systems activated. Purge cancelled.¡±


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    ¡°Pwaaahhh!¡± Conrad let out the breath he had been holding, his shoulders sagging as the tension left him.


    The door in front of him hissed open, letting out three crewmembers.


    ¡°HAHA! Cutting that one a little close weren¡¯t you little one?¡±


    The giant brown Ruulothi addressing him through the cheers of the olive colored, lizard like Sadiil named Stiirl and a younger, black and brown Ruulothi named Fuurnaal, was Kelraan, the head Engine Tech of the ship.


    ¡°Oh, I just wanted to see if I could make you sweat a bit is all.¡± Conrad shot back with a grin.


    Kelraan gave a deep belly laugh. The two behind him whooped and whacked on the walls with a pair of breaching bars, the GalCom equivalent of a Halligan bar.


    ¡°Seems to me the fire would have done that just fine without your help, no? We¡¯d have had our breath taken away for sure in another moment.¡±


    ¡°Indeed, but better late than never.¡± Said a familiar new voice. ¡°Please refrain from banging on the walls now.¡±


    The two Engine Tech understudies immediately stopped their antics and stood to the side, allowing Lorthaal to step out of the engine room. He said nothing more as he moved to look at the panel that Conrad had been working on, checking the lights and gauge pressure against his wristlink before nodding in satisfaction.


    ¡°Acceptably done, Conrad. Please reset the system for full operations and come to the mess hall for debriefing.¡±


    Lorthaal walked over to a ship terminal on the inside of the door and hit a button to make an announcement. ¡°Voorkar, kill the alarms and reset the system. The drill is completed. Make sure the others are gathered for debrief.¡±


    The relative silence of a running ship returned as the flashing lights and alarms ceased. Once he could speak without raising his voice, he turned to address the Engine crew, ¡°Thank you for your cooperation in setting the stage. Kelraan, I trust that you will run them through what they actually need to do for a fire in their section, yes?¡±


    ¡°Of course, Captain. Alright you meat-sticks, fun¡¯s over. Back to work!¡±


    A couple of disgruntled, ¡°Yes Sir¡¯s¡± later and they returned to their section and closed the door, leaving Conrad alone in the hallway with Captain Lorthaal, who turned to leave.


    ¡°We meet in ten minutes and debrief with the others who were running their drill.¡±


    ¡°Understood, Sir.¡±


    A few moments later and Conrad was alone in the hall. He turned his attention back to the panel and pulled the emergency restart button back to reset it. Then he double checked everything before turning the key in the last port on the right of the panel, turning the final light red and returning the system to normal operations from the lockdown it had been placed into for the training drill.


    His task completed, he headed back to his rec room for a breather before his meeting.


    __________________________________________


    ¡°Alright now! Cut the chatter so we can begin.¡±


    Voorkar stood at the spiritual front of the mess hall, where the food was dispensed and selected, and paced back and forth as he went over the reports from the various sections.


    Conrad and Ruufarrl weren¡¯t the only new faces. There were two others, both young Ruulothi, who had been the focus of the newest round of drills that they had just completed. One of them was training to be bridge crew, Communications if he remembered correctly, and the other was a Maintenance Tech like Conrad but with a specialty in Electronics. Ruufarrl had been sent straight to the primary Security teams.


    He hadn¡¯t had much interaction with them so far. Their berths were separate from one another, spreading the inexperienced newcomers out amongst the veteran spacers and preventing too much collective stupid from congregating in one location.


    ¡°Not that any of us are particularly dumb, we were all basically handpicked for the crew. But rookies make dumb mistakes, and groups of rookies make progressively dumber mistakes if left to our own devices or unsupervised.¡±


    ¡°So! In review, there were no major issues identified that need to be worked on. This last week of drills has taken well. There are still some minor issues that need to be corrected or worked on, but most of that will come with familiarity and experience and isn¡¯t anything that is of concern enough to warrant more serious training. Congratulations to you all. You are now cleared to work your primary posts. Your Section Heads will work with you on ensuring your full integration into the crew from here on out. Captain?¡±


    Lorthaal gave his XO a respectful nod as he stepped forward to address the group. ¡°Your persistence and skill speak well of you all, and it means that we won¡¯t have to waste time releasing anyone at our first stop. There will be more trainings to come, but they are for specialty roles and integration into the Security teams. We will be heading to a planet that I have a working agreement with after our first delivery. Once there we will be going into the field for a couple days to complete the weapons familiarity part of your training.


    ¡°In the meantime, you will work your assigned posts and the extra duties that some of you have already qualified for. Get some rest for your first shifts. Dismissed.¡±


    Conrad knew that at least part of the last statement was directed at him. In his primary capacity as a Maintenance Tech he worked directly under Kelraan, as he was the head technician on the ship. But he also served as a Loader when they made their deliveries, which meant he was going to take on a more active role in things at this first stop than the others.


    He got up to head back to his bunk. This first week had been a long one of random drills and trainings leaving him lacking on sleep, and he was looking forward to some quality rack time.


    He said the required greetings and niceties on his way through the ship and his rec area, not allowing himself to get too bogged down in random conversation. In the short time since his boarding, he had integrated fairly well with the crew in his habitation pod, and they noticed the signs of his exhaustion and let him be.


    He didn¡¯t even wait to see where Ruufarrl had gone before crashing to his bunk and passing out.


    ________________________________________________


    ¡°Alright! Sections four through seven are getting pulled and placed over there, near the hangar bay doors. Sections thirteen through eighteen are getting placed on the trolleys. Then we need to move Sections two and three to thirteen and fourteen and onload the new cargo in two and seven to account for weight distribution.


    ¡°Conrad, you and Vistiin handle four through seven first, then focus on the redistribution. Understood?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir! On it!¡± He turned and nodded to the second of the Sadiil serving on the ship and they began to move as one unit, Vistiin pulling the cargo from the rear most racks and placing it on the ramp for Conrad to shift across the hangar bay. This would allow the other loaders to get their cargo out and placed on the ship¡¯s deck for movement after Conrad and Vistiin finished with their loads.


    Loadmaster Nooraal was a grizzled old Ruulothi showing the gray of his age in places, and Conrad could hear him finishing his orders to the other loaders of the day as the two of them began rotating the stock in their section for removal.


    It was his first time in an Exo rig since he had left the Dark Meridian.  All told it really wasn¡¯t that long ago, but it sure felt like it. Even so, the controls came back to him quickly, and he was soon moving cargo at a quick and steady pace.


    He and Vistiin worked well together and didn¡¯t need to say much of anything to get the job done. They simply intuited what the other was doing and applied that to what was going to be needed in the near future. It was a very different experience from his previous work experience on a GalCom ship.


    While Conrad and Kivan had been friendly and had also worked well together, the ship had been too large for them to constantly be working on the same project. Kivan would often need to move his gantry crane across the bay to help others, leaving Conrad to figure out what to do next on his own.


    This was a full-on team effort, and he allowed himself to relax and mentally lose himself in the flow of the work. Before he knew it, the on-ship cargo was out and relocated, and they were waiting on the trolleys to return with the replacement cargo.


    Both crew of loaders stopped to rest a bit while they waited, taking in what they could see of the planet they were on.


    The ship had landed in the open pad outside of a large hangar built onto the side of a large mountain. This particular world belonged to the Hinse, a Founding race and the only one of them that actively stands as a military force.


    The Hinse themselves were a heavily built mammalian species that had what appeared to be some sort of scaling over their outer extremities and on common contact points like elbows and shoulders. They had a thick shock of fur that ran from the crown of their heads, down their spine and to their stubby, vestigial tails. Their faces were wide, and they had long, swept back ears with narrow noses Their bodies and shoulders showed the evolutionary frame and strength of a burrowing species. Their hands were large with thick, hard nails and they had digitigrade legs with more thick nails on their toes.


    Their worlds of preference were mountainous worlds, much like this one. This particular world was on the outer fringes of their territory and was dotted by both ancient and modern fortifications. If what the other loaders were saying was true, then it is something that was a common characteristic of their other worlds as well.


    The edges of the landing pad they stood on had only a simple handrail across them and showed a fantastic view of a mountain range in the late autumn. The air was as clean and fresh, at least in so much as it could be on an active landing pad.


    Conrad was enjoying the breeze when he felt a hidden pressure on his senses. Unsure of exactly what triggered it, he slowly looked about him, but could find nothing. There were only a few scattered workers on the pad that were all seeing to their own tasks. Though he could not find the source of his discomfort, he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling either.


    Before he could ask anyone else if they had noticed something, the trolleys returned with their next load, and he had to push the sensations aside and get back to work. The feeling did subside after a while, but he made a mental note to speak to Ruufarrl about it when he got the chance.


    There was some brief delay as they found a cargo bin that wasn¡¯t marked properly, nor weighed the proper amount. It turned out to be an honest mistake, and the Loadmaster cleared the issue up and got the proper cargo unit delivered.


    No sooner were they finished than Voorkar announced that they were preparing to launch. Their business here was completed, and they were moving rapidly on to the next destination, some two weeks of travel away in Klendigal space.


    Conrad couldn¡¯t help but chuckle to himself.


    ¡°Some things never change. Only the dead may rest.¡±

 Chapter 25

    Administrator Access Detected...


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    Input\Administrator Request\Emergency Vim Conference...


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    ____________________________________________________________________________


    <u>User 6</u>?: Suave Voice: I sincerely hope this isn''t interrupting your daily activities. Some important information has come to light that dearly needs to be addressed my fellow Council Folk.


    <u>User 2</u>: Deep Voice: Umph. Not that you would really care otherwise. What is it this time?


    <u>User 6</u>: Suave Voice: But of course I care, Councilwoman. I care about the wellbeing of us all, and this is a matter stands to adversely affect that wellbeing. The Ruulothi Dissenter we spoke about before has slipped our web and made his move. The Nightmanes have confirmed the Human as a Bloodclaw and are now integrating him into their social structures.


    <u>User 4</u>: Rapid Voice: What? How? I was not informed of any travel arrangements. My agents are still monitoring the travel registries on Juniel and waiting for them to move. Neither of their identities have gone through the travel registry system.


    <u>User 6</u>?: Suave Voice: I will leave that for you to figure out. Ultimately, the how does not matter at this time, it only matters that they did. What is important from here on, my fellow Council Folk, is what do we do about it?


    <u>User 5</u>: Slow Voice: What is their plan for integrating him? Do we have that much information?


    <u>User 6</u>: Suave Voice: Indeed we do. The plan that I have been informed of is to have both of them serve on a Ruulothi Cargo Runner, called the Wind Runner, to give the Human exposure to both the crew and their clients, a trial run of sorts.


    <u>User 1</u>: Nasal Voice: If they are going to be running the shipping lanes then perhaps...


    <u>User 2</u>: Deep Voice: NO! They have proven to be far more formidable and cunning than expected. Twice now our attempts to stop this have failed, and you want to repeat the failures of the past? Have you learned nothing?


    <u>User 1</u>: Nasal Voice: Shipping is my area of responsibility. One failure does not...


    <u>User 2</u>: Deep Voice: This is not some standard trade vessel, it is a Ruulothi ship! Crewed and run. It is, for all practical purposes, a troop carrier. The Ruulothi barely operate within our mandates at the best of times. Your tactics will not work here.


    <u>User 1</u>: Nasal Voice: I have more than one method at my disposal.


    <u>User 4</u>: Rapid Voice: While your desire to make right the mistakes of the past is admirable, perhaps it is time for someone else to take the lead on this endeavor.


    <u>User 1</u>: Nasal Voice: You have also failed, might I remind you, and this has nothing to do with your technologies. The Human is hardly going to be bringing Galaxy ending tech.


    <u>User 4</u>: Rapid Voice: I do not only deal with new developments. There are things one can do...


    Input\Administrator Override\All Non Administrator Users Muted.


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    <u>User 6</u>: Suave Voice: Please, my dear compatriots. Arguing about areas of responsibility and fault are beneath us. This is not the forum to bring up personal grievances and trivialities. Only put forth earnest and workable prospects for resolution.


    Input\User 3\Signal Ready


    <u>User 6</u>: Suave Voice: Ah, we have yet to hear from 3 today. Please, share with us your thoughts.


    Input\Administrator\Unmute User 3


    <u>User 3</u>: Musical Voice: Thank you for the freedom to speak... I have a proposition that may allow us to receive multiple dividends for a singular effort. I have, yet another, missive from the Chirleen. This one is a warning of potential conflict and a supply request rather than a petition for aid. They seem to have finally learned that we won¡¯t interfere at least and respect our Space Station''s sovereignty enough to warn us that it may soon be in the line of fire. With the proper alterations from our Technology expert and some help from our Defense Magnate, I believe that I can bring in and provide an answer to our two biggest problems right now. That of the Dissenter and his pet, and of the Humans in general.


    Input\User 2\Signal Ready


    <u> </u>


    <u>User 6</u>: Suave Voice: Please remain respectful Councilwoman.


    Input\Administrator\Unmute User 2


    <u>User 2</u>: Deep Voice: My apologies... Director. Councilwoman, I am assuming that you wish for me to mobilize some forces for this endeavor? Can you explain further as to what you need, for both myself and 4.


    <u>User 3</u>: Musical Voice: Of course. With the growing conflict in that sector of space it seems the perfect place to have a supply run go horribly wrong and get caught up in the fighting. Especially for a Cargo Runner operated by Ruulothi, who will see the danger as a challenge. I believe from the reports you shared with me that the next Qazirxel assault fleet is due to arrive in three months or so?


    <u>User 2</u>: Deep Voice: That is correct, but it is not an exact date, only an estimate based on our observations with stealth probes.


    <u>User 3</u>: Musical Voice: I believe that they can be coerced into action by seeing their targets start to thrive. If we lower the threat rating, more trade ships will arrive, forcing their response to something that can be measured accurately, correct?


    <u>User 2</u>: Deep Voice: More accurate, yes, but still not precise. You will be relying on extremely fickle timing for this to work, and we still have not heard what we are needed for, or how this corresponds to the humans.


    <u>User 3</u>: Musical Voice: With the proper agents and assets in place, we can both expand or refine the margin of error to acceptable parameters. Even force an early invasion by assets they currently have in system if the opportunity presents itself well enough. What I will need from you, 4, is a reworking of the Chirleen requests. For those I will speak with you privately on what specifics I desire. But, in general the first of them will be sent to the Wind Runner at the appropriate time, requesting an emergency supply drop. As for the Humans, thanks to their efforts to ingratiate themselves to us, they have supplied us with a list of Aid Groups that would be willing to assist us should the need arise. The second request will be sent to them, putting humans on planet for the invasion assault.


    What I need from you, 2, is a natural response from a Ruulothi Security Fleet to arrive in system after the invasion has started to take it back... aggressively. I will make sure there is public cause for it. No matter how the Humans respond to the loss of their people, whether from the invasion or from Fleet Action, we can work it to make them look weak in front of the Ruulothi and dangerous to others in the Community. With the pushback, we can at the very least call for closed borders. And if they respond aggressively... Well...


    <u>User 2</u>: Deep Voice: And if they respond before we do? We still know nothing of their capabilities, we cannot even send Stealth Probes to monitor them as we don''t want to risk it being seen as an act of war if they are discovered.


    <u>User 3</u>: Musical Voice: There will be a full Qazirxel invasion fleet in orbit around the planet. What little they can gather to respond on such short notice will be far out-numbered, out-massed and likely out-gunned. The Qazirxel are a war faring race, after all. And when such a rescue attempt fails, what better way to point to them as impetuous, foolish, and weak? To show them as not worthy of being signatories.


    <u>User 2</u>: Deep Voice: I don''t like it. Too much can go wrong, and the Qazirxel are hardly a true war faring species, local bullies is more the correct image. Our last two attempts to control this were simple and straightforward, and even they failed. We know nothing of Human combat capabilities or tactics, nor their politics. Only that nothing seems to go to plan when a human is involved. This complicated weaving of yours, though inspired, practically invites their special brand of chaos.


    <u>User 3</u>: Musical Voice: It is an intricate web, yes, but one that will catch all of our little bugs. Do not forget, knowing people and predicting them is what I do best.


    <u>User 2</u>: Deep Voice: For our signatories, yes. But none truly know the humans.


    Input\User 7\Signal Ready


    Input\Administrator\Unmute User 7


    <u>User 7</u>: High Voice: If I am hearing this right, we are looking at finding funding for Fleet Action, including tithes to the Ruulothi for their use, expendable agent placements, more Stealth Probe usage, and the loss and replacement of all sovereign assets in system? Followed by, potentially, a very long war with an unknown species?


    <u>User 3</u>: Musical Voice: That about covers it, yes. We don¡¯t need to worry about much loss of Community life. The Station there is mostly automated and has only a skeleton crew of workers and public relations posted there. Even then most of them are Chirleen. I also don''t see why the funding of the endeavor should be a problem overall.


    In fact, we could stand to gain as this would put the Chirleen in debt for the cost of the station and our resulting response to protect them and take control of this world back, gaining us yet another proper signatory.


    As for the war, if it even happens, the potential trade off of the new systems we could take should more than offset the costs and even bolster our economy in total.


    <u>User 7</u>: High Voice: This is prohibitively expensive for a line-up of maybes. 5 might find the idea of new resources appealing, but our economy is stable as is and even growing on the borders with the humans. We don''t need to get into needless and costly fights. Assimilating them is better. I don''t think you truly understand the costs of a war on that scale. This could be just like the Founding War all over again. This is foolishness! Do I truly need to remind you that we exist to avoid such confrontations and wars!


    User 3: Musical Voice: Please! You exaggerate merely to¡­


    Input\Administrator\All Non Administrator Users Muted.


    <u>User 6</u>: Suave Voice: Again¡­ I must ask that we all remain courteous. Now, we have all heard the proposal and the counterpoints. Is there anyone else with a proposal, or idea?


    Input\User 1-5, 7\Signal Not Ready


    <u>User 6</u>: Suave Voice: Very well then, let us put it to a vote, shall we?


    Input\Administrator\Vote Call...


    ?Vote Beginning...


    User 6 Vote\Abstains


    Users 1, 3, 4, 5 Vote\Affirmative...


    Users 2, 7 Vote\Negative...


    Vote Passes...


    <u>User 6</u>: Suave Voice: There we have it. I expect everyone to work with 3 and give her exactly what she needs. 3, keep me informed of everything. I will need to run public interference once this begins, the more information I have to work with, the better. Let''s get to work.


    ______________________________________________________________________________


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 Chapter 26

    -?????-


    The transit bus swept down to the terminal in the precise, measured movements of AI controlled transports, leaving behind a young woman of average height and build with just below shoulder length strawberry blonde hair and green/brown hazel eyes. She gave her surroundings a wide-eyed sweeping look as she shouldered a large military style duffel and a medical bag that was nearly half the size of the duffel. The planet''s gravity was a little weaker than her own, so she briefly reveled in the sensation that the weight wasn''t going to bother her any.


    After taking in her surroundings, she sighted her goal and smiled before setting off with a spring in her step that even the heavy bags couldn''t dampen. Her course took her to a sprawling complex attached to a remote part of the primary Shuttle Port of Proxima Centauri, where she had just taken the transit bus from. As she came to the main entrance she looked up at the Emblem of a red cross and twin red stars superimposed on a stylized gold bordered white planet on a field of blue. She took a deep breath before setting herself and joining the active but sparse stream of people entering the complex.


    The lobby was large, with two half-full waiting areas on the wings and four doors on the far side behind a wide, multiple station reception desk. Various broadcast terminals showed the news and efforts of the group that called this complex home, as well as messages from its leading officers and original founders. At first glance it appeared to be a grand affair, with a tiled mosaic of the same logo on the floor and an overhead skylight with decorative hanging lights and recessed back-lighting along the walls where the crown molding would be. But a closer look revealed these things to be simple and utilitarian in make, likely either made by hand and donated or created by some member of the group with some spare time. The Mosaic was made from painted and dyed stones, the decorative lighting from simple pieces of burnished stainless steel hung from thin chains, and the recessed lighting looked to be old LED''s in casings mounted to the walls, puttied and painted the same calming gray-blue color of everything else.


    "Appropriate for one of the largest aid organizations in Human space." she thought, "Presentable and Grand to the layperson. Yet comparatively cheap, easily maintained and not pretentious. A good first impression for many."


    Done with her sightseeing, she joined the line of people waiting to speak with a receptionist, listening to the news broadcasts while she waited. There wasn''t anything that tweaked her attention as being an immediate call for help, but there were some problems with severe drought, weather damage, flooding and uncontrolled fires on various planets and lunar bodies. None of them seemed in her estimation to be something beyond what the local authorities could handle, and hadn''t already done so time and again before.


    "Huh. Looks like I''ll get to have a nice, quiet transition period."


    The man in front of her turned around, "Pardon?"


    "Oh! Sorry, I was just talking to myself. Bad habit I''m afraid." She recoiled slightly and held her hands up in a vain attempt to deflect his attention, which had surprised her and drew her native accent out from beneath her usual control, her words gaining a lilting cadence as her vowels drew out slightly.


    The man smiled and tilted his head, "Not from Proxima... Is that a... Calistan accent? Joining up are you?"


    She blinked in surprise, her accent still in place as she responded, "I... yeah. I''m genuinely surprised that you knew that... and yes, I''m joining. Actually, I already have, just need to get checked in. How did you know about Calisto? Not many people have a reason to go out there."


    "Ah, I serve on a trade ship, Calisto is on one of our routes. A beautiful planet, lakes, rivers, mountains and alpine forests everywhere you look. I am glad you all found a legal way to keep the off-world leeches from building all their damn resorts on the planet. Granted, it would bring in a lot of money and make you a heck of an attraction, for sure. But you would have lost so much in comparison. Classifying most of it as a type of nature preserve under local control and guidance was smart."


    "Hehe, thank you, I''m glad you are able to appreciate her as we do. But that was all done well before me. Now it is just... Small town central. I love it, but I wanted to see more."


    "Completely understandable, that''s why I started working on traders myself. But, this would be a good group for you to do it with, too. They... Ah, it is my turn. Good luck to you."


    "And you too, sir!" She waved at him as he went to take his turn at the desk, and she was promptly called over to the other end of the desk herself.


    The woman behind the desk looked to be in her mid-thirties and wore a fitted, semi-dress black shirt with the group''s logo on the breast, an embroidered name tag that said "S. Blackwell" and black slacks. She was also clearly of the bubbly personality type. "Good Morning Hon! Welcome to the Home of the Centauri Hospitallers! What can we do for you today?"


    Despite her nerves, she couldn''t help but smile at the woman as she replied, handed over her charge papers and brought up her ID on her wrist-link, her accent fully under control again, "Hi! My name is Claire Fontaine. I signed on right out of medical school, I am supposed to integrate with the Third Lance?"


    "OH! Well, welcome aboard Miss Fontaine, and thank you for volunteering! My name is Sierra. Give me just a moment to call back and get you an escort, then I will start filing this while we wait." Sierra went over the paperwork to make sure everything required was present and verified Claire''s ID. Then she made a very brief phone call and smiled at Claire again.


    "Perfect, Damien will be out to get you shortly. He is the head of Third Lance''s medical department, so you will be reporting directly to him anyway." She turned to her terminal and began to fill in Claire''s commitment paperwork. "Now, you said that you just got out of medical school? Where did you do that at?"


    "I went to school back home on Calisto. The university there has some pretty good medical courses. Well, most of it was geared to veterinary and exo-vet studies, which I also took a few classes in. But the human medical classes were solid too. There''s a lot of need for it with the local mining and forestry industries. Serious accidents aren''t that unheard of, nor are clashes with local wildlife."


    "Oh, that sounds like it could be quite bad. Have you ever had to deal with any of that?"


    "A couple of times. We assisted at the local Hospitals as a part of our learning program once we were experienced enough to be considered CNA''s. It... yeah it got bad. Heavy machinery and angry wildlife don''t really know the meaning of mercy."


    Sierra shook herself at the imagined imagery, "Well, I am glad I don''t have to deal with any of that myself. What made you want to join us?"


    "I just wanted to see things while I could, before I got too tied down. I thought that if I could get the job experience while doing some traveling and seeing what else is out there... well, who knows what might happen. Don''t get me wrong, I love my home planet, but I may only get this one chance, you know?"


    The receptionist smiled and nodded, "Yes I do. There are a lot of people just like you with us. Hmm... I suppose I should ask now rather than leave it for a surprise later. How do you feel about the military?"


    Claire thought about the question for a bit, trying to parse out why she had asked more than to find an answer. "No particular feelings. They have a hard job, not for me though."


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    Sierra relaxed a little after hearing her answer, "OK, good. A lot of people don''t realize that those who get out of the military try to find jobs where they can do more for people than they could while serving. Many of them find their way to us and other similar organizations. We have former combat engineers, medics, officers, biotech, mechanics and more in our ranks. They seem to enjoy the structure as much as they do the work. We also sometimes work closely with the military to help people in need during disasters and the like. This can sometimes create friction and problems with the more... Idealistic volunteers. Some people come to us without ever experiencing the need for someone to stand ready with violence and despise anyone who finds themselves capable of doing so even if their job has nothing to do with fighting."


    She smiled at Claire again, "But that isn''t a concern you should worry about. Third Lance is a pretty tight knit group, and Damien was himself a former Combat Medic before becoming a doctor. You will be in good hands."


    Claire smiled back, "That is good to hear." Privately, she was relieved that she would be under the wings of people with some practical experience. She didn''t fully feel comfortable with her own medical experience and had been worrying about what might happen if she was forced to rely on only herself too soon.


    They continued to make pleasant small talk while Sierra filled out her paperwork. A few minutes later and a large, fit, dark skinned man in an identical, but tighter uniform with the name tag of "D. Winters" and a look and demeanor that practically screamed "MARINE" came out of one of the doors behind the desk and approached them.


    Claire looked up as he entered and immediately felt as though she recognized him for who he was, even without ever having met him before, "Ah, is that Damien?"


    Sierra turned around and spotted the man, waving at him as he approached. "Yup. Good eye." She waited and spoke to Damien when he got close enough, "Damien, this is Claire Fontaine, the new medical inductee I called about. I am just finishing up the last ''T''s and ''I''s. Then she will be all yours."


    Damien gave the receptionist a gentle nod and a warm smile as his deep voice rumbled out, "Thank you Sierra." He turned to Claire and held his hand out to shake, and she met him with her own. "Miss Fontaine, Damien Winters, nice to meet you. I run the Medical Department for Third Lance, so we will be seeing quite a bit of each other in the coming days while we work to get you situated and acclimated. Do you have everything you need with you?"


    "Ah, yes sir. I got my personal bag and medical kit with me." She indicated her two bags which he considered with a raised brow. "Seems a bit large for a standard medical bag. Did you bring spares?"


    "Not quite, sir. I have a couple extra qualifications, so I brought that kit with me as well."


    "Ah, I see." He started to say more but was interrupted by Sierra.


    "Yup, she''s got a few more bells and whistles to her than standard... I''m all done here." She swiped her hand across her terminal and Damien''s wrist-link beeped in response. "Everything is right in those files."


    "Understood, I guess I will go over them as we get time. If you would follow me please, Miss Fontaine... Here, I''ll get that for you."


    Damien reached down to grab her filled duffel, then blinked and tilted his head in surprise when he went to lift it. He gave both the bag and her an appraising look before coming to a realization, "You from a High-G world?"


    "High-er, but I wouldn''t really call it High-G... Calisto." Claire''s eyes lit up and she smiled, knowing that she had just surprised him with her own strength and ability. But he simply nodded and said, "Gotcha."


    With little more than a breath of effort, he hoisted the duffel up and over into a shoulder carry before sweeping his other arm at the door, "Right this way."


    Claire''s anticipation and posture deflated as he slung her bag around easily. Sierra caught the look and laughed brightly and winked at her, "Go have fun, sweetheart. Good Luck. I will see you around, I am sure."


    Claire returned the smile and called out, "You bet!" before following Damien through the door and deeper into the facility.


    He pointed out various places of note as they moved through the hallways. Communal eating and sleeping areas, recreation, work units and labs, garages and IT rooms. All of them were also clearly labeled on the walls and with signs so she wasn''t concerned about getting lost like she was in some places, at least until they got to the Transit Hallway and she finally understood just how massive the complex truly was.


    The wide hallway was more of a racetrack that faded into the distance. Motorized carts and small cars zipped back and forth down the length of it, some with occupants, and others being controlled by onboard AI. Damien took her to a multi passenger cart marked with a green Roman Numeral Three and put her bag on it. "Here, hop on. Third Lance''s hangar and quarters are about half a click out. This will make the trip easier. Also, if you have anything to tie your hair back, now would be a good time to put it in."


    "Ah, right." She paused for a moment, then decided to take a pen out of her pocket and it instead. Sticking it into her hair, she swirled it around into a crude bun with the pen pinning it all in place.


    Damien observed this and nodded, "Field expedient, I like it. Alright, away we go." The cart jumped forward, startling Claire into emitting a small, "whoop" and inciting her to grab for a rail.


    Damien explained the facility as he drove, his voice raised to be heard over the wind of their passage. "Our Lance Commander is Kaleb Hawke, and I serve as his Second in Command, his XO. If you have any issues or need anything, come to me first. Mostly because I am your department head, but also because I am the XO, okay? Beyond that, each of the department heads is in control over their own little slice of the world from rescue to fire and disaster management, to us in medical and more. We will get you introduced to everyone later when we have our weekly briefing.


    There are five Lances with the Hospitallers right now. Each Lance has their own unique specialty, but we do cross-train with each other for emergencies. Third''s specialty is medical and search and rescue. The Hangars here count outward from the main base, with One being the closest and Five the farthest. The ProxCent Shuttle Port leases this area to us, so we are free to land and take off from here so long as we follow the necessary procedures and stay out of their airspace. Each Lance maintains a starship capable of making planetary landings, which is kept in their assigned Hangar. The model of each ship is tailored to the Lance''s needs. Ours is a Star Strider VII, a long-haul scientific research and exploration ship that had the specialized equipment removed and replaced with our medical and rescue gear. Each Hangar is surrounded by a grounds area where we keep extra equipment and vehicles, mock-ups for training exercises and more. The ship itself serves as our base of operations during our missions and has all of our necessary equipment on it like our medical bays, light vehicles and aerial drones. When it isn''t in use we keep it in the Hangar, which also has our personal living spaces, ready room and other areas similar to what you just saw. Some people choose to live offsite, but that will be up to you.


    The Hospitallers are a mostly non-profit group. But as you can no doubt tell, it is an expensive operation to maintain and surviving on just donations, even with how big human space is, would be near to impossible. So in-between missions we hire out as trainers in our respective fields and find our own alternate jobs to help defray the costs a bit. If we can cover ourselves for food and basic expenses, then that is one less thing we have to find in the donations. Some people hire out their services from here. Those General Areas I just showed you are where the public has access to for some of those trainings and other odd jobs that we provide, like vehicle maintenance. A lot of local people like to come here for those things so that they can support us and our efforts.


    Tell you what, why don''t you give me a quick rundown of your skills and I will see about getting you to someone who can get the ball rolling on that stuff for you."


    "Oh, ok, ummm. I just graduated from basic medical school and am a certified Nurse. I also took veterinary and exo-veterinary classes and am at least certified to be an assistant in those fields. Other than that, I grew up in the mountains and forests of Calisto. Basic survival training and firearm familiarity is standard there, as is basic knowledge of forestry and geology. I worked a few odd jobs while growing up and going to school, but it was mostly customer service or warehousing in one form or another. Oh, and I know Galactic Standard."


    Damien smiled at her, "Well, you certainly got a lot to choose from. I don''t think we have anyone doing a veterinary practice here, might be an interesting thing to look into. The rest of it sounds good too. You would be surprised by just how many people volunteer that couldn''t figure out which part of a tree is the roots or that the wind makes a fire go faster. Basic survival is an absolute must for this job, so you are well ahead of the curve there. Here we are."


    He pulled into a parking section next to a loading ramp leading to a large set of double doors underneath another green Roman Three. They collected her bags and went through the doors into what looked to Claire like an office or dormitory hallway. "From what I''ve learned already, it''s probably both. Thankfully, it is just as well marked as the other section, so I still shouldn''t get lost."


    Damien led her down the hall and into another, where she could begin to make out some sounds of music and conversations. "This is where most of us live. Down here you will find a rec room, weight room, cafeteria and bedrooms. Some of them are empty, so you can feel free to claim one of them. I will go check in with... Oh, speak of the Devil."


    A weathered man a few inches taller than Claire and with salt and pepper hair and mustache walked out of an Office right in front of them. The distracted man looked up and blinked a few times as he got his bearings, then gave what could have been a small smile to Damien before it faded and he turned to her.


    "Ah, you must be the new girl. You have either the best or most unfortunate timing." He sighed before continuing, "Proper introductions are going to have to wait, I am afraid. Damien, I was just coming to look for you. I have already sent out a recall notice to all members of the Third. We have marching orders. Can you see to it that we have everyone mustered in the Ready Room in two hours? I have to argue with Miranda''s place of employment about letting her leave for duty... again. I swear they always completely ignore the contract. It is no different than reserve military, but still they want to fight it."


    Damien looked at him with some concern, "Yes sir. If you don''t mind my asking, where we are headed? You aren''t usually this frazzled on receiving orders."


    "That''s because this has never been done before. We are going to Galactic Space. I''ll explain the rest in the briefing." With that he took a deep breath and walked back into his office like he was shoring himself up for battle.


    Damien looked at Claire, "Well, that was Mr. Hawke. Sorry to bail on you so soon, but it looks like we are all going to be very busy here shortly getting ready for the trip. Hope you are ready for On the Job Training." He held her duffel bag out for her and grinned, "But hey, at least you are already packed, right? Go ahead and wait in the rec room. I will come and get you later for the briefing since you haven''t been shown around fully just yet and haven''t been issued your key card."


    With that he turned and went back down the hall the way they had come, leaving Claire alone.


    Claire shouldered her bags and started looking for the rec room, crestfallen that she wasn''t going to have the time to get settled before hauling off across the known Galaxy.


    "Well, this is what you wanted right?" She stopped at the entrance of the unoccupied rec room as she suddenly remembered something, threw her head back and let out an exasperated sigh, ¡°UUUUgggghhhhhh!¡±


    "You just had to go and say the damned ''Q'' word. Didn''t you?"

 Chapter 27

    -Claire-


    The Conference Room for the Third Lance was more like a large lecture hall than a meeting room. Claire was stunned by just how many people there were in the group. There had to be close to a hundred people sitting in the room waiting for their emergency mission briefing to start.


    ¡°I guess I really shouldn¡¯t be surprised. This is a complicated organization after all. There are the Medical and Search crews, then the support staff, maintenance and engineering/construction crews. Neither of our primary specialties could function without the other groups. These missions really are massive team efforts. Logistics for these must be absolute Hell on such short notice.¡±


    The low buzz of conversation permeated the room. From what she could tell the majority of the conversation revolved around the specifics of the Recall Order, but here and there she overheard a few people catching up as though they hadn¡¯t seen one another for a while and at least two people had tuned everything out and nodded off while they waited.


    She had caught a few glances in her direction as the more attentive of her new co-workers recognized a new person in their midst. But that was the extent of the attention sent her way. They apparently were either accustomed to random new arrivals or accepted that she had a reason for being there.


    Once enough people had arrived Commander Hawke stepped up to the podium and cleared his throat loudly, signaling that the meeting was going to start. The background noise quickly died as people turned to give him their full attention.


    ¡°Thank you all for making it on such short notice. A few of us are still on the way, but we can get them caught up as they arrive. We are going to be on a long-distance mission. Long story short, we have received an aid request from the Galactic Community.¡±


    He waited a few moments for the murmurs of surprise to die down, then picked up where he left off.


    ¡°Yes, you heard right. Those of you who have been with us the longest should remember that the Centauri Hospitallers as a whole, along with several other aid organizations, joined an initiative that placed us on a call list for the Galactic Community as a way of extending the branch of goodwill.


    ¡°If you have been paying attention to the news as of late, you will know about the issues going on around Fildecl. As of sometime last week, they downgraded the conflict rating in that system to Yellow, opening it up to non-military, non-security traffic. With the opening of the lanes, the denizens of Fildecl have sent a request for medical aid and supplies. Our best guess is that even though the GalCom has opened the lanes, they are still maintaining a hands-off approach to the conflict there, so the Chirleen have turned to us. Now, there has not yet been any actual fighting on the planet. The conflict has mostly been just interstellar saber rattling between the local security forces and the challenging Qazirxel fleets and some heated dialogue exchange.


    ¡°I¡­ have my reservations about this. But, we are used to going into the danger zone to do our job, be it environmental or external dangers. In broad strokes, we have been cleared for the operation and will be taking off in five hours with a load of medical supplies intended to provide aid to some of the more remote towns on the planet surface. To that end, we will be leaving behind our larger heavy moving and excavating equipment to have more room for supplies. We will be keeping our reconnaissance and transport vehicles as we will still be needing to move between different places and may well have need to perform surveys or other such tasks depending on what they need when we get there. But this isn¡¯t intended to be a search and rescue op, so the big toys stay home.


    ¡°The supplies we are bringing will be limited, but we will get resupplied by a GalCom ship while we are there. This resupply shipment will also contain the more familiar foods and meds that they requested, and a lot more of it. We don¡¯t yet have an exact date on the arrival of this supply ship, but we believe they will arrive roughly mid mission.


    ¡°Our plan calls for a full month on planet, with a reassessment of continued needs after. If it is determined that they still need support, or have some other need that we cannot provide, then another Lance will step in for a time to fill the void.


    ¡°It is going to be all hands for this one as we need to be running as smoothly as possible. This is obviously going to have some major political implications depending on how things turn out. To that end we will have Ms. Holden and Mr. Finley from Centauri News Broadcasting Network working with us.¡±


    He paused in his briefing to point out the two people in question, a slight, but attractive brunette woman and her athletic looking, dark skinned, male partner who stood to the side in plain civilian clothes. The crew seemed quite familiar with them as they received a fair share of friendly waves and nods.


    ¡°They will be working overtime recording both our own work as well as the Chirleen people themselves and their way of life and doing their best to give us what we need to integrate as smoothly as we can. I am sure you can all recognize this as both a rare opportunity, and a risk. We are now the face of Humanity to a people who know nothing of us. For those of you who speak GalStan, you are going to be front and center in this. We will be relying on you to interact and mediate for the rest of us and teach the language in your spare time. For those of you who don¡¯t speak it¡­ Welcome to crunch time. I guarantee that by the end of this we will all be at least familiar enough with the language to hold a conversation for basic needs.


    ¡°Also, some of the more attentive of you will have noticed that we have a newbie with what has to be the absolute worst possible timing in the history of this outfit, Ms. Claire Fontaine.¡±


    Dry chuckles rippled through the hall as Claire suddenly found herself briefly at the center of their attention.


    ¡°Ms. Fontaine will be working as a nurse. She also knows GalStan and has some experience and training in xenobiology and veterinary practices, so she will be working the frontlines on this one. You will also be seeing a lot of her in the coming days as we start training up.¡±


    He gave her an apologetic smile, ¡°Sorry to put you on the spot, but we are going to be needing you and your skills.¡±


    She gave him a smile and a shrug as the majority of the room turned to her as he singled her out, ¡°I¡¯m not much of a teacher, but I will do what I can.¡±


    ¡°Hey, everything helps¡­ and you won¡¯t be alone, this is going to be a group effort. I will meet with you after we take off to get you up to speed and in touch with the right people.


    ¡°Right, now that that is all out of the way¡­ The Chirleen and Qazirxel. They have a building rivalry due to their shared preferences in living space. Both species prefer mostly aquatic planets where they can build on and next to the water. The Chirleen are an avian species¡­ Well, kind of. They can¡¯t fly, but they have several genetic markers that show they came from some sort of bird ancestor, likely something close to a puffin or a tern given their environmental preferences.


    ¡°Chirleen are carbon-based life forms, bipedal, covered in small, soft feathers, almost like a thin layer of down, and have wide beaks that function similar to a terrestrial squid¡¯s. For those of you that don¡¯t know, that means they can articulate the beak and chew with it. They are also omnivorous, like us, so supply issues with food should be an easy thing to translate and fix in an emergency. However, due to their beaks, they can¡¯t articulate sounds the way mammals can. So they have to wear translator boxes to interpret their chirps and squeaks.


    ¡°Now the Qazirxel¡­ we have no information on. They are isolationists and will not entertain ambassadors of any type. The only information we have is a suspicion that they are, at least, semi aquatic due to their environmental preferences. But that shouldn¡¯t be too much of an issue as we are there for the Chirleen, and the Qazirxel aren¡¯t even on planet. The Chirleen are the ones who sent the request for supplies and aid, request specifically asks for food and medical. So our focus after contact is to get with their doctors and figure out how we can help. They have been isolated and cut off for some time thanks to the blockade and Red Zone status and are desperate to make up for lost time.


    ¡°Remember¡­ There will be NO Direct Care, of ANY kind. Not until we interface with their doctors to get the proper procedures and safe meds in place. We don¡¯t need to accidentally be killing them because we jumped the gun or go running afoul of some sort of religious issue. We CAN NOT afford to mess this one up. We are the first human aid group to go across the border, and all eyes are going to be on us. Both at home and across the Divide. So, if there is ANY question as to if you should be doing something¡­ ASK first. Ask your department heads and make damn sure that it has been approved by both them and the local leaders.


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    ¡°Now I know you have them, and we have limited time before takeoff, so let¡¯s try and make this quick... Questions?¡±


    ______________________________________________


    ¡°I can only imagine how exhausting that must have been for him. That was nearly an hour of non-stop questions and last-minute logistics planning. There is no way I could have done that with as little information as he had.¡±


    Claire made her way to her ship quarters after the meeting with her duffel. Liftoff was going to be very soon, and she didn¡¯t want to be the little lost lamb when it came time.


    Apparently, the more senior staff lived in their work sections. Which made sense in a certain way, it kept them near to their equipment and allowed them to better monitor their departments and prevent tampering.


    But she wasn¡¯t going to be living in the medical wing. She was headed to one of the general berths that lined the spine of the ship. Six cramped bunkhouse style halls with sanitation units separating them housed the majority of the crew. Men and women, young and old alike bunked together, and there was going to be little expectation of true privacy beyond the occasional pulled curtain.


    At least not until they made landfall again. Then they could set up a tent village with the base camp and separate into more comfortable housing arrangements.


    ¡°This is just for transit.¡± she reminded herself. ¡°Besides, this is what you signed up for. Embrace the suck girly.¡±


    ¡°Hey¡­ Claire, right?¡±


    Claire looked around in confusion, not sure who had called for her as she had thought she was alone in the hall at the moment. She finally spied the source of the voice standing just beyond arm¡¯s reach behind her.


    A blonde-haired woman about her age quirked a smile at her and held her hands up as Claire cast about. ¡°Hey! Sorry, didn¡¯t mean to startle you. I was trying to track you down before you disappeared from the meeting.¡± She stuck her hand out to Claire, ¡°I¡¯m Lily. I¡¯m guessing we are going to be seeing a lot of each other, ¡®cause I speak GalStan too.¡±


    Claire shook herself back to the present and reached out for the offered hand, ¡°OH! Hi! Yeah, that¡¯s me.¡±


    Lily shook her hand smartly before letting go and reaching back to adjust her own pack. ¡°You heading in to get settled?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I didn¡¯t want to get caught out or looking for a bunk when the countdown started.¡±


    Lily grinned and waved for her to follow, ¡°Smart! Come on, I¡¯ll show you around.¡±


    With no other options and hoping to make a connection to someone her own age, Claire followed behind, listening as Lily explained what parts of the ship were what, and the different jobs they entailed.


    Lily also stated that she worked in the comms department. Which meant she handled the dispatching of people and materials during emergency operations. She helped to keep comms traffic neat and orderly and the information flowing where it needed to go.


    She led Claire with a sure and confident gait, not once even so much as pausing to get her bearings. It spoke to her familiarity with the ship and her time with the Lance. She was doing so well keeping Claire distracted with information that they reached their destination before Claire even realized it.


    ¡°Alright, here we are!¡± Lily said with a game show flourish. ¡°This is Dorm Two. Housing is basically first come first served for transits, so it is good that you decided to come out early. We can get the best seats!¡±


    Claire chuckled in spite of herself, ¡°Are there really any that are better than others?¡±


    ¡°Well¡­ No, not really. But this Dorm is closer to the classrooms, medical offices and labs, so I guess the commute is better? Come on, let¡¯s claim bunks before it fills up.¡±


    Claire looked around her and realized that the halls were in fact filling up with people getting themselves squared away. It wasn¡¯t busy just yet, but the early birds were out in force.


    She nodded to Lily and followed her into the room. The Dorm was a very tight space, little more than a hallway with beds built into cubbies in the walls. The beds were situated in two layers, a top and a bottom, with ten total cubbies on each of the two walls. In between each of the paired beds was a pair of bay lockers for personal effects. On one of the short walls was a door to the sanitation cubical, and on the other was an active Terminal showing the local news broadcasts.


    She started putting her things on a bunk and filling the assigned locker when a headline caught her attention and she stopped to listen to the broadcast. Lily noticed her lack of movement and leaned out from her bunk to figure out what had caught her attention.


    ¡°Are relations with the Galactics improving? We have just received word that our very own Centauri Hospitallers are responding to a request for aid from Galactic Space. The Third Lance is preparing for their newest mission, one that will take them to the contested planet of Fildecl. The system was recently downgraded in threat level from Red to Yellow, and a flurry of requests and activity has been taking place. At least one of those requests landed squarely in the Aid organization¡¯s lap, spurring them to respond.


    ¡°Additionally, there is news of another Human/Galactic relationship that has been stirring the waters and sent talking heads across the Sector into hot debates.


    ¡°According to Galactic sources and news from Nueva Rios, a Human has been selected to join the Ruulothi Bloodclaws after saving the cargo ship they worked on from a pirate attack. We don''t yet have a confirmed name for this individual as local Riosian records are kept private and for some reason the GalNews has yet to cover it, but we do have some security footage that we will put on screen now of a Human and Ruulothi in the Nueva Rios Shuttle Port wearing similar Rank accessories.


    ¡°We have been unable to track down any more information on either the attack that brought the Human to the Ruulothi¡¯s attention or the whereabouts of the two in the video at this time, but there is a rumor they may have made their way to the Ruulothi home system after their visit on Nueva Rios.


    ¡°It is not yet clear what these developments might mean for Human/Ruulothi relations or our relationship with the Galactic Community as a whole, and thus far no one on either side has made any sort of official statement on either development."


    The terminal screen showed a canned video of the various Centauri Hospitaller Lances working on some of their missions when they spoke on the unit. Claire recognized them as the same videos that had been playing in the lobby when she first arrived.


    Of more interest to her was what came after. A looping video of a young human male and a large Ruulothi walking down a hallway that played after. The man appeared to be explaining something to the Ruulothi, as he was waving his hands as he walked and talked. He was wearing what looked to be a Ruulothi warrior''s waist sash, something that Claire knew the Ruulothi walking next to him would not have allowed if he hadn¡¯t earned it.


    Lily tilted her head as she watched the broadcast "Huh, he''s kinda cute. That''s cool, if it¡¯s true anyway. But who knows these days."


    Claire smiled at her, ¡°True, but this looks to have more merit than other rumors. The Ruulothi are very strict about their Honorifics. He wouldn¡¯t have been able to wear that sash without their approval.¡±


    Lily gave her a mischievous smile, ¡°Ooohh? The sash is what you got out of that? Where were you looking hon?¡±


    ¡°A wha-¡­ HEY! You¡¯re the one that called him cute. Pot meet Kettle.¡±


    Their laughter was interrupted by a third voice, ¡°The sash is a good catch, but you can read between the lines a bit too to know just how serious it was, and how strange it is that no one seems to know what happened.¡±


    Claire turned toward the voice while Lily rolled her head back and looked upside down from her bottom bunk, ¡°Oh! Hey Josiah! Whatcha talking about?¡±


    A fit red-headed man in his mid-thirties snorted shook his head in amusement at Lily and pointed toward the Broadcast Terminal. ¡°The Ruulothi. They don¡¯t consider your run of the mill fight to be worth much of anything. If they really were impressed enough to go against the grain and tap him for the Bloodclaws, then it must have been one hell of a fight. You would think that that sort of thing would make the news. So, why hasn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°Hmmmm, I dunno. Does it matter though? Come on¡­ don¡¯t be one of those conspiracy nuts.¡±


    He waved his hand at the girl as she worked her way out of the bunk, ¡°I¡¯m not a conspiracy nut, Lily. I just pay attention. But that is neither here nor there.¡±


    The man looked directly at Claire and waved to her. ¡°Hi, Josiah Graves. I handle the Armory and Ordnance.¡±


    Claire looked down in confusion before looking back at him and cocking her head, ¡°Sorry, Armory and Ordnance?¡±


    Josiah chuckled at her reaction, ¡°Yes, sometimes the Search and Rescue Operations require us to be armed due to hostile local fauna, and sometimes we need to use controlled explosions to excavate or cause predetermined landslides and avalanches and clear large debris. It isn¡¯t much, but it¡¯s enough to wake people up from time to time.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve never really thought about it from that angle, but I suppose that makes sense. Is that¡­ Is that something we are allowed to do? Bring that stuff across the border?¡±


    ¡°It is classified as Security and Excavation equipment, so it should sail straight through any questions¡­ not that we¡¯re putting neon signs up either. Wouldn¡¯t want them to get their fur¡­ scales?¡­ frills? in a bunch over essentially nothing. I also operate and handle the maintenance on our SAR Drones. You should stop by sometime when we¡¯re running them, it¡¯s a lot of fun.¡±


    ¡°You let me know when they are going up and I will do that.¡± Claire smiled at the offer. She had seen similar drones in use on her homeworld, but never had the chance to play with them. This was looking better by the day.


    The three of them continued chatting for a bit until the room got crowded and they slipped into their bunks to make room for the new arrivals. Not long after that the one-hour warning sounded off, marking the looming deadline.


    Lily reached up from the lower bunk to knock on the edge of Claire¡¯s, ¡°Hey, the halls should be walkable now. I¡¯ve got one last thing I want to show you before we have to strap in.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Claire wracked her brain to think of something that she may have missed in their quick tour earlier, ¡°What is that?¡±


    Lily grinned from ear to ear, ¡°I¡¯m going to introduce you to the twins. The boys that have all our hearts in a vice. C¡¯mon!¡±


    ¡°What? Wait¡­ But I¡­ Whoah!¡± Claire yelped as Lily practically dragged her out of her bunk and led her by hand out into the halls.


    ¡°Seriously, is now really the best time for this?¡±


    Lily looked back at her as they walked, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I promise it¡¯ll be fine, and you¡¯ll enjoy meeting them. Tell you what¡­ If I¡¯m wrong, then I¡¯ll owe you one.¡±


    Claire glared at the back of Lily¡¯s head, ¡°Fine.¡± She huffed, ¡°But only for a few minutes, I want to be back in the bunk and ready to strap in as soon as they call.¡±


    ¡°Deal! Right in here.¡± Lily stopped at a door and waved for Claire to go in. She hesitated a moment, then finally took a breath, activated the doors and stepped through.


    The scene inside took her mind a few moments to dissect and come to terms with. Even when she did realize her mind wasn¡¯t playing tricks on her it took Lily poking her with an elbow to bring her back to her senses.


    ¡°Ohhhh, they are just gorgeous!¡±

 Chapter 28

    -Conrad-


    Conrad buttoned his eyes shut and clamped down on the rail of his bunk as his senses and the world around him went squirrely. The sensation was mercifully brief, and everything returned to normal after but a few moments.


    Mere seconds later and the ship¡¯s terminal-based intercom snapped to life, displaying Voorkar¡¯s face on the screens, ¡°Jump transition completed. Welcome to the Welbilan system of Klendigal Space. We expect to make planetfall on Dwendal in three days. Once there we will offload the assigned cargo and spend a few days on weapons training and familiarization. All hands, return to normal duties.¡±


    He breathed a sigh of relief. Jump transitions were almost as bad as the Sonic System the Sanitation Pods used¡­ almost. It didn¡¯t make him feel like he was coming apart at the seams, but it was still incredibly jarring to have his senses scrambled all at once.


    The sensation was worse on this ship than it had been on the larger ships he had travelled on. He didn¡¯t know if that was because the drive incorporated Ruulothi parts, or if it was simply mass and/or output related.


    ¡°Not that it matters in the end. It just needs to be dealt with.¡±


    He checked his wrist-link, noting the time and calculating what was left until his next shift. Finally, he sagged back into his bunk and closed his eyes. There was too much time left to start getting ready now.


    He hoped to get another couple of hours of sleep before reporting for his shift. Not that there was really anything for him and the other Cargo Techs to really do. They only had a final inventory check to run, basically a makeshift task to ensure that all the proper Cargo was in the right place and hadn¡¯t been moved.


    Unlike the Dark Meridian, the Wind Runner had no need to shift cargo around. It was simply too small in comparison. Also, moving cargo crates around on a lighter ship would offset its balance, potentially causing it to become unstable in atmosphere. So, no one messed with the loads in transit.


    Of course, this didn¡¯t leave them with much to do in the interim. They prepped for the next delivery before ever taking off in the first place, and then didn¡¯t touch it. It was a big reason for why the Cargo Techs had other, secondary jobs on the ship. There simply wasn¡¯t much for them to do between stops outside of logs and inventories.


    ¡°And cleaning. There is always cleaning to do. Can¡¯t let the filters get clogged or have any loose items laying around. Even a tiny little object becomes a destructive missile on re-entries. Doesn¡¯t really matter what it hits, people, electronics, vents¡­ everything can cause damage when launched just right.¡±


    He snorted at his own thoughts, then smothered them as he shoved his head into his pillow. If he didn¡¯t get any extra sleep, he was going to be in rough shape come the start of his shift. Once comfortable and clear of wandering thoughts, he put a hand on the wall and let its ambient coolness and the background vibration lull him to sleep.


    ________________________________________


    ¡°ALRIGHT! Let¡¯s get the last of those crates off the ship and onto the Station! Conrad! Sections five and six. Vistiin! Fifteen and fourteen. Watch your spacing and your surroundings! No accidents! No collisions!¡±


    Loadmaster Nooraal¡¯s voice boomed through the cargo bay, bringing order to what he perceived to be potential chaos or issues. They hadn¡¯t given him any reason to doubt, but the commands had left no doubt as to what was to be expected. In a way, he was getting ahead of trouble and dummy proofing the process by defining what was expected.


    The requested sections were directly across from one another on either side of the ship. Conrad and Vistiin alternated their unloading, one grabbing a crate and removing it from the ship while the other took theirs to the cargo truck and returned for their next crate.


    It was a simple method, but a tried and tested one that left plenty of wiggle room for physical error or unexpected problems. But, given that the two of them were currently the only loaders, they were quite easily able to stay out of one another¡¯s way.


    Conrad had been surprised that they had docked to unload at the local Orbital Station. Usually, the draw of having cargo delivered by an atmo-capable ship lay in having them deliver it themselves. This took the responsibility, and costs, of moving the cargo off the shoulders of the locals.


    But, after thinking it through, he realized that the cargo they were delivering could just as easily be intended for the Station itself.


    ¡°Sometimes, the answer is simply right in front of you. No need to overthink it. Not that it is really any of my business to begin with.¡±


    He ambled down the ramp with his crate and added it to the load on his assigned truck, then waited his turn to get the final few crates.


    A few minutes later and the unloading was completed. Loadmaster Nooraal signaled for them to return to the ship and begin the preparations for takeoff.


    As the loading ramp closed Vistiil cocked his head, ¡°We aren¡¯t taking on a new load? We are almost empty now.¡±


    ¡°Not today. The Captain wants us focused on the upcoming training, taking on a new load would put us on a schedule again. What we have left is at will deliveries, so there is no need to worry about deadlines.¡±


    Conrad did a double take, ¡°Wait, at will deliveries? Who orders things without having an expectation for their arrival?¡±


    Nooraal chuckled and shrugged, ¡°People with more time and money on their hands than I. And no, I do not know what the cargo is, nor do I care. It has been vetted, that is enough for me.


    ¡°Now enough talk, we need to get ready for atmospheric entry. Make sure everything is locked down, then get to your rooms and strap in.¡±


    Vistiil and Conrad both responded with a ¡°Yes, Sir!¡± and moved to do exactly that.


    __________________________


    Their trip to the surface of Dwendal took them far from the populated areas and into the arid flatlands at the base of a series of mountain chains. It was explained to them by a veteran crewmate that this area was largely avoided by the denizens due to its complete lack of easily accessible natural resources. The area was almost completely open with little more than desperate looking low scrubs and wind, so it made a perfect place to practice marksmanship.


    Captain Loorthal had made a standing deal with the locals that afforded him the access to the area for his crew training. Even when he didn¡¯t have new crew to train, he made sure his people stayed on top of their skills.


    He knew that marksmanship was a perishable skill.


    A hot wind blew across the plain. Almost in counter point to it, the ground was hardpacked, so there was hardly any dust to get kicked into people¡¯s eyes. Nor were there really any animals in the area, only small lizards and mammals that largely avoided them. Even so, there were lookouts posted.


    The reason for them Conrad understood well enough, there were places on Nueva Rios and Earth that had similar issues. They were close enough to the mountain range that a squall could quite easily form and drop on them with hardly any notice. In such a case they would need to scramble to get their sensitive and valuable equipment back onto the ship before it hit.


    The ship would weather the storm just fine, but anything, or anyone, left outside would likely be damaged or lost. Apparently, hail was quite common this close to the massive mountains, and it got to be very large at times. Large enough to completely pulverize a person¡¯s body on impact.


    He didn¡¯t want to think about how exactly they knew that.


    Conrad helped set up the basic things. The tables, crates, and targets. Cook Riinsuul had a small station set up in one of the cargo brackets just inside the loading ramp. This put him out of the way, but accessible, and not at risk of losing his valuable equipment.


    It was a sign of either hard won experience or incredible foresight. Conrad had learned that Riinsuul had been with the crew of the Wind Runner for very long time, had been one of Loorthal¡¯s first hires in fact. He wondered if the old Ruulothi would part with some of the stories he had to have picked up over the years and decided to ask him at a more appropriate time.


    It took them around an hour to get everything ready, even with the full force of the crew behind it. The range that they had set up was a large one. It was designed to test the skills of up to twenty people at a time and included body sized moving targets and pop-up targets in addition to the standard stationary ones.


    As they gathered for the instruction, Conrad noticed a major difference between this range and Human ranges. There was a distinct lack of distant targets. All the targets here were placed well within the hundred-meter mark.


    ¡°I wonder, is this because we are looking to train for ship-based combat? But that wouldn¡¯t make sense. We would spend more time actively guarding various cargo drops than we would defending the ship. So that must mean¡­ Oh, that is why.¡±


    As he was mulling over the lack of extended ranges, Voorkar had stepped up to the central table with a weapon case and pulled out its contents, running a check of the weapon before holding it up for display.


    The weapon Voorkar held was instantly familiar to Conrad. It didn¡¯t appear as refined as human weaponry, to his eye at least, but it was clearly a firearm of some kind.


    The weapon itself was roughly the length of one of his extended arms, with what appeared to be a barrel projection of some sort jutting out from under a full-length shroud. It had a pair of alternated grips that stuck out at oblique downward angles on opposite sides of the weapon, one in front that looked to be a stabilizing grip, and one roughly where he would expect a human weapons fire control grip to be. There appeared to be some sort of mechanism in the blocky body, and a piece that could have been a magazine of some kind that was inserted into the top and hung down a little on either side of the weapon with angled ¡°ears¡±. On either side of the weapon was a pair of tubes that came out just in front of the rear grip and returned to the shroud just behind the end of the barrel where the chamber would be on a human rifle.


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    The most jarring departure from what he was familiar with was the lack of a brace or stock, and the lack of normal sights. It had a built-in sight, but consisted of little more than a large, diamond shaped loop on the front.


    ¡°That is so strange, how do they brace it for accurate fire? Hell, can it even fire beyond the targets that were set up? That seems extremely limiting, but then again, this is alien war doctrine, not human. Who knows, maybe they exclusively fight in close quarters.¡± He shook his head before focusing again, ¡°Not a good idea to be luffing about when they are explaining things. Watch and listen you fool.¡±


    Voorkar turned the weapon over in his hands to allow the newest recruits to see it from all angles. ¡°This, for those of you who are new to the ship¡­ and the Galactic Community in general¡­¡± He gave a pointed look to Conrad before continuing, ¡°Is the Galactic standard weapon, the Emitter Beam Rifle, or EBR for short. It came about after a rather fortuitous accident involving now outdated propulsion systems. It fires a short-pulse, self-contained plasma ¡°beam¡± by harnessing the Bloom created by the activation of a pair of Two Hundred Kilowatt lasers igniting the local atmosphere, which is then ejected at high speeds using an electromagnetic pulse bubble.


    ¡°Yes, for those of you paying attention, that means that it does not function properly in the void of space. But for that, it has a direct fire mode using the paired lasers. These lasers work just fine in the void and in atmosphere, but in comparison they simply aren¡¯t as effective on target as the bolt without exposing yourself for a significant amount of time.


    ¡°It has a manual safety right here, to prevent fools from making mistakes. It also has two firing grips, designed to accommodate the vast majority of body types in Galactic Community. The front grip controls the atmospheric regulator. Pressing that trigger fills the regulator with air. The rear grip is the kill trigger, this activates the lasers and fires the new ball of plasma out the barrel.


    If you want to fire it with just the lasers, there is a second lever in front of the safety that disables the regulator and opens the baffles.


    ¡°Now, firing it is an incredibly simple task. It was made so to allow for even brain rotted fools to properly operate. You take this holographic targeting display here, place it over your target, then pull the desired triggers, like so.¡±


    He turned to point the weapon downrange and flipped the safety lever to make it live. He held it in what looked to be an awkward and uncomfortable manner, proving to Conrad that there was no way to properly brace the weapon. They were basically firing off-hand, holding the weapon in front of themselves to see through the sight.


    Despite the perceived disadvantages, Chief Voorkar was clearly adept in the weapon¡¯s proper use. There was a loud snap as the weapon fired, and a hissing bolt of plasma fired out and struck a midrange target dead center.


    The effect on target was impressive.


    The bolt of plasma exploded on contact with the target as its containment bubble disintegrated, vaporizing part of the metal cladding the target into a fine mist and leaving behind a shallow, smoking crater on the plate.


    The bolt was fast. Not as fast as railguns or even early projectile weapons, he could still see the bolt in transit, but it was fast enough it could not be dodged when in range. Given that it was superheated plasma he could only imagine how effective it would be on flesh. But it seemed to leave something to desire when dealing with armor. ¡°Probably a good thing considering they use these on ships. Wouldn¡¯t do to have some raw recruit putting holes in your hull.¡±


    ¡°And now, for the lasers only.¡±


    Voorkar fiddled with the levers and fired again. This time there was no sound but thin, scintillating blue lines reflecting off the dust particles in the air shot out from the barrel of the weapon and began burning lines into the target as he fought to hold the weapon steady.


    He held the weapon on target for a few moments more before stopping and turning back to the group, ¡°Clearly, the bolt works better. But it is important to know that the option is there. Now, for the extras.


    ¡°The tubes on the sides here are the expansion chambers that allow the regulator to function properly and not blow up in your face. This insert on the top serves two purposes. It is an external Charge Pack that supplies extra power for the Pulses that fire the bolt, and the coolant that prevents the weapon from overheating and exploding.


    ¡°The EBR can function without it, but your firing rate and functional range will be greatly diminished. The on-board battery and pulse emitter self-charge over time, but if you don¡¯t have enough charge, the pulse and the bolt will collapse early and fizzle out. The Charge Pack has a simple display on the back that shows you if it has been used up or not. If the light bar turns off, replace the pack. DON¡¯T throw them out if you can avoid it, they can be recharged and put back into service.


    ¡°Also, as I said earlier, if you overheat the weapon it will explode on you instead of the enemy. If you are ever worried about overheating, switch to the lasers to allow it to cool off. You do NOT want to be holding it when it goes critical. The gauge, here on the side, shows you the internal temperature levels.


    ¡°Now¡­ Any questions before we get started?¡±


    As with any such display before eager newbies, there was a host of them. Conrad had a few of his own, and a couple were answered for him before he got his turn, but eventually Voorkar got to him.


    ¡°What is the maximum effective range on them, and are there any other variants in service? Say, larger, longer ranged or crew served? Also, is there a maximum amount that can be primed for a shot?¡±


    Voorkar paused at the line of questioning, giving Conrad a sidelong, but appraising glance. He started to speak, but then paused and collected himself while thinking about his answer.


    ¡°The maximum range for the EBR is, safely, the farthest targets here, with the actual maximum dependent on local conditions. After that the bolt begins to lose integrity and fizzle out, much like it would without proper power. As for the other question¡­ There are vehicle and building mounted and ship-based versions, but nothing else for foot troops.


    ¡°As I expect you are aware, the ship-based versions work differently due to being needed to function in the Void. Ship based weapons, such as ours, use particle dispersion to create the plasma rather than the atmosphere, and have far more powerful EM bubbles, but they are still limited by range and the fuel source needed to survive the journey to the target. They can be charged for greater range and power, but at the cost of the fuel source and power to the rest of the ship.


    ¡°As for the last question, there are safeguards in place. The regulator for personal weapons cannot be overcharged and will stop filling the chamber once a certain amount has been primed.


    ¡°These are¡­ interesting questions. They show an understanding of battle equipment and combat in general. I assume that your people fight differently?¡±


    Conrad nodded, ¡°Yes, we have a very different doctrine when it comes to weaponry and combat.¡±


    He heard a deep chuckle from behind him, ¡°That is an understatement. Perhaps later we can sit down and show it to you Voorkar.¡±


    ¡°I would be more than happy to, Master Ruufarrl. Perhaps when we are next in transit, we can find a good time.¡±


    Voorkar turned back to the newbies and gestured to the veteran crewmen standing to the side, ¡°You will each work directly with one of your seniors for the duration of our time on planet. Follow their instructions to the letter. Failure to do so will result in a failure of this class, and your immediate dismissal from the ship. There is no room on board for the reckless, indiscriminately dangerous and untrained.


    ¡°Now, Gentlemen, pick your recruit.¡±


    ________________________________


    -Ruufarrl-


    This was going to be a most interesting diversion.


    Ruufarrl had been watching the recruits closely and felt a trickle of pride that they had all been paying close attention and seemed to be taking the lessons to heart.


    They weren¡¯t his recruits, but it was an old habit from his Academy days that he just couldn¡¯t seem to shake.


    He chuckled to himself. ¡°Hmmph, maybe I am just getting old and doting.¡±


    Due to his own extensive service, he was exempt from the standard lessons. However, he also wasn¡¯t a veteran of the ship, so he was not given an instructor role. But he would be joining them in later days for the recertification course.


    He stalked along behind the row of recruits and instructors, observing and making mental notes. He would not say anything to anyone here, it would be too much of a breach of etiquette. But, perhaps later, he could give a few quick informal pointers to those that were struggling and ask questions of the Seniors that would aid his integration into the crew.


    He kept a curious eye on his charge. He had seen more than enough from Conrad over the last year to know that he would be just fine, but he was still interested in just how well he would adapt to the new weapon system.


    He knew from personal experience there was a large divide in human weaponry and GalStan EBR¡¯s. Human weapons were explicitly designed for their bodies and were meant for an entirely different style of combat. Their weapons, even those meant for frontline soldiers, had a certain capacity for highly accurate, long-range fire.


    ¡°Hmmm, that would be an interesting fight to see. If they were allowed to choose the field of combat, I wonder if we would even be able to get in range of our own weapons and best operational skills. The more I consider the differences in exhibited combat techniques, the more I grow concerned at our ability to meet them on even footing if it comes down to a fight.¡±


    He snorted to himself as the next thought came to him, ¡°I haven¡¯t even seen anything more than a civilian hunter, a couple of pretty honor guards and a single warship, and I am STILL finding myself doubting. Not a good sign.¡±


    He silenced his thoughts to watch as the newbies were allowed to take their first shots. Despite Voorkar¡¯s statement about the sights there were many misses, which was to be expected. Even Conrad missed his target, although not by much. He appeared to be struggling with the weapon layout and was shifting about trying to find an effective way to hold the weapon on target.


    As he watched, the Chief made his way over to him to talk in low tones.


    ¡°What do you think? There was a lot of arguing about allowing him to participate. Do you think it will come back to bite us?¡±


    Ruufarrl bristled and gave him a wary look, ¡°If I thought that, I would never have sponsored him.¡±


    Voorkar chuckled, ¡°I suppose that is fair. Thank you for not biting at my ears for even asking. I needed to, regardless of how it came across. You both mentioned differences in weaponry. Is it truly so different?¡±


    Ruufarrl shifted as he tried to find the words to describe the differences. As he was doing so, they fired another volley. There were many more hits this time around, Conrad included.


    Voorkar chuffed, ¡°He learns fast.¡±


    ¡°That he does. Human weapons are¡­ specially designed to them. They have not had a need to make a universal weapon for many races, so they are highly specialized to the human body type. They take into account their natural flexibility and body mechanics, something that not even we can match.


    ¡°They have a slew of personal sized weapons. Military rifles, hunting rifles, single hand weapons called pistols, and many more. Some I have to show you to be believed. His question earlier about crew operated weapons was not a mistake. They make larger weapons in parts to be assembled and deployed in the field for heavier fire, indirect fire and anti-armor purposes.¡±


    Voorkar¡¯s eyes went wide, ¡°Indirect and Anti-armor¡­ surely you jest, how would they even get them on target if they can¡¯t see it? What could they possibly be shooting at that requires¡­? Well, I suppose we would wish for those anti-armor weapons when a Clantor comes calling.¡±


    Ruufarrl chuckled quietly. The recruits were now attempting to hit the mid-range targets, Conrad again missed his first shot, but adapted quickly and got them back on target. The others also appeared to be doing well and getting their shots on target.


    ¡°This is a most astute class; it is rare that they all adapt so well. To answer the rest of your question, human rifles have braces on the backs of them. This allows the humans to snug it in against their body for a more stable firing platform and line their heads and eyes up to their weapon sights. From all appearances, they look to have a preference for longer range, accurate fire.¡±


    Ruufarrl tipped his chin at the firing line, ¡°These EBR¡¯s, they are incredibly awkward for him to hold. They are for us as well, but doubly so for him. He is fighting his natural inclination to pull it close to his body, and it is affecting his accuracy.¡±


    They watched together in silence for a few moments, appraising the recruits and their attempts to adapt to the weapon system.


    ¡°I see what you mean. He sometimes tilts to one side and has to correct himself or lifts the gun up to eye level, upsetting his balance. That is so¡­ strange.¡±


    ¡°To us, but for them it is natural. When they first met, my niece asked him to draw conclusions about our genealogy and history from his first impressions on the planet. He was astoundingly accurate on many things, but one of his comments stuck with me. He mentioned that we Ruulothi had evolved to live climbing on the lower roots of the trees, rather than swinging through the canopies.


    ¡°It was an almost offhand comment, but I think it may hold more to it than I caught at the time. Their bodies are built for a combination of running, swimming and climbing. They are not overly specialized in either, but instead exhibit a balanced combination of all. This versatility almost pervades every sense of their culture. Heh, as you can see.¡±


    He pointed as Conrad got himself dialed in for the long-range targets, scoring a couple of repeated hits. Excellent marksmanship by Ruulothi standards.


    Voorkar grunted in response, ¡°Adaptable to the last¡­ Well, this next part should be fun, now they go through the gauntlet.¡±


    The Veterans rounded up the weapons and recruits and got them lined up at the start of a short course that held a number of targets at varying ranges, some of which moved and popped up. They lay the weapons on the table next to the starting mark and walked them through the course once to set the expectations.


    After the instruction was completed, the Veterans lined up with their chosen recruit, and handed them the rifle. Staying behind the recruit for safety, the Veterans walked the course with the recruit while they attempted to swivel, fire on and strike each of the targets in turn, with as few shots as possible.


    It was a test of their self-control and decision making as much as it was their newly learned weapon handling while on the move. For most, it was designed to humble them and teach them that there was always more to learn. For some it proved a difficult challenge, a very few select others found it to be an enjoyable challenge, rapidly scoring hits on the closest targets and testing themselves against the farthest.


    Eventually, Conrad¡¯s turn came up. He tested his ability to hold and swivel with the gun as instructed and looked crestfallen. It was simply too awkward for him to do without extensive practice.


    He looked at the gun for a few moments, then cocked his head and looked up at the sky. Ruufarrl had been with him long enough to know what this meant. He smiled and tapped Voorkar on the shoulder, ¡°Watch, he is about to change the rules again.¡±


    ¡°Wait. What?¡±


    Conrad turned his head and addressed the Veteran with him, keeping the weapon pointed downrange. Whatever the question was caused the Veteran to give him an incredulous look and cross his arms. But after giving whatever it was some thought they shrugged and gestured for him to continue.


    Conrad took the EBR, pulled it back and nestled his fire control elbow into the base of his ribs, locking that arm into place. He moved to stand up straight while shifting his weight so that his head tilted directly over the weapon. He nodded to the Veteran and began walking. Rather than shooting using the sights, he turned his entire body and kept the weapon level, firing when the barrel lined up to the target. As there was no recoil, it was child¡¯s play for him to keep it on target.


    There was a little variance with his steps, but he had adopted a smooth shifting gait that wavered little and began blasting the targets one by one as he moved, aiming with his entire body instead of his arms.


    One after another he struck his targets, close targets, then mid-range. Finally, he began targeting the distant targets.


    Normally this required the recruits to move closer to engage, teaching them the importance of proper spacing and target evaluation. But Conrad didn¡¯t care.


    He still missed his first couple shots on the long range targets, but he used them to adjust his core and began hitting the targets, knocking them down as he had the others.


    Ruufarrl caught Voorkar with his mouth open and began laughing. ¡°Now you truly see the heart of Humanity. When they come across something they can¡¯t work with, they make their own damned rules. I guarantee you that none of us can do that without long hours of practice, it requires you to be able to stand up straight and lock your body and gait.¡±


    ¡°Just what in the Great Hunt have you brought into our midst?¡±


    Ruufarrl grinned mischievously, ¡°If you think that is strange, just wait until you learn what a grenade is.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, a what?¡±

 Chapter 29

    -Voorkar-


    Voorkar growled softly in resigned frustration and pawed at his ear as he watched yet another rookie attempted to pull of what had become dubbed ¡°The Human Hold¡± and fail miserably as they lost their balance and stumbled.


    At least this one managed to keep hold of the weapon and keep it pointed downrange.


    It wasn¡¯t that he was against attempting new things. It was a sign of an adaptive and open mind, and one that would take to instruction well.


    Rather, he was frustrated that they all seemed to want to prove that they could be the ones to pull it off. Even in spite of both the Instructors and Conrad himself explaining that the reason he could do it was his vastly different body mechanics from the rest of the crew.


    His frustrations with the quirks of combat instruction aside, the last few days had been blessed by the winds. They¡¯d had no injuries to speak of, and all of the rookies had shown either satisfactory or exceptional competence with the weaponry and tactics taught.


    Nor was he particularly upset with Conrad. He knew that there was going to be some growing pains as the Human acclimated to the Ruulothi ship life and found his stride. He just didn¡¯t think that was going to be a literal definition of what would happen.


    He watched the display in front of him and resigned himself to the course of action that he knew needed to be done.


    If he was going to be completely honest with himself, he should have done it long ago. He was hoping that it wouldn¡¯t be necessary, but he knew that if he tried to smother it, he would just cause discord and kill morale.


    He allowed himself a quiet sigh before stepping forward and signaling the other trainers to stop their efforts. He had already discussed the possible need for this with them, so there was no hesitation amongst them and their instruction was brought to an immediate halt. They knew what was coming next.


    ¡°Seeing that the lot of you continue to attempt exploring new boundaries, we are going to change the intended lesson plan. It is good that you seek to optimize your performance in a controlled setting, so we are going to allow you to learn from example and experience. So, for this next block of instruction, you are all going to step up to the line, one at a time, and make your best attempt at the Human Hold. Afterwards, we are going to conduct an After Action Review, something else that you are going to need to get used to after every single combat action.


    ¡°It is important for you to understand that this is not an attempt to make any of you feel foolish. But rather an attempt to show you that everything needs to be gone over and addressed in a controlled fashion. In this case, it is to allow you to physically realize that this isn¡¯t something that those of our body types can accomplish without extreme amounts of practice.¡±


    Voorkar waved to the first instructor, ¡°Haaslan, you may begin.¡±


    _____________________________________


    The class went about as he expected that it would. None of the new recruits were able to consistently demonstrate an ability to control the weapon as the Human had. One by one they had grown silent as they realized their hopes for a magical advantage crumbled in their own hands.


    The AAR went better. Despite their disappointment in themselves, they were active participants and asked the right questions. At one point, Voorkar had asked Conrad to come to the front of the class and demonstrate why their differences in their physiologies made it so much easier for him to perform the particular hold that he had adopted.


    In short, it was a result of their knees, ankles and overall mechanical body posture being different. Ruulothi and the other Hunt Brother species that had been appointed to the crew were of a similar body type, that being forward leaning with digitigrade legs. While that body style made them faster on flat ground and quicker to react overall, because they were never truly flatfooted, it also compromised their balance when it came to changes on their flanks and lateral control. It limited their mobility and flexibility in the ways that were required to adopt the Human hold.


    Voorkar had hoped that this would end the issues, but when Conrad approached him with Ruufarrl in the Officer¡¯s rec room after, those hopes were dashed. Though his frustrations were quickly replaced with a different kind of hope.


    ¡°Sir, I know you wanted to quelch this, but I wanted to let you know that there might actually be a way for you all to improve overall accuracy and speed on target. If you are interested in attempting something new, that is.¡±


    Voorkar gave him a sidelong scowl, then raised his eyebrow at Ruufarrl, ¡°I assume that this has something to do with what you mentioned the other day?¡±


    ¡°In part, yes. First Officer.¡±


    Ruufarrl nodded as he spoke. He seemed completely at peace with his support of the effort, which forced Voorkar to reconsider his initial irritation at the proposition. If this veteran believed that it could make a difference, then perhaps¡­


    He shook his head and let out a deep sigh, ¡°I will take it under consideration. But it will likely not be during our current deployment. Such things are best left for experimentation between missions, and in a safe place.


    ¡°I am going to want to know exactly what it is that is being proposed before anything is attempted, and final approval will need to come from the Captain first. This is his ship, and he has final say in anything. That part, however, you can leave to me. I will bring the proposal to his attention once an acceptable idea has been bound together. He does not need to be constantly pestered while running the ship with half-baked thoughts and ideas. Understood?¡±


    Both of his companions nodded respectfully, ¡°Yes, sir¡±


    ¡°One more thing¡­ Ruufarrl, I assume that you are here backing this because you have the source material saved on your Wrist Terminal?¡±


    ¡°That is certainly a significant part of it. I believe you are aware that I am also one to attempt to gain any advantage possible, from any source. If this is something that works, the improvements made can then be spread through all of our ranks, improving our people¡¯s effectiveness across the board. A consideration not to be ignored.¡±


    Voorkar slumped, his head hanging with ears back as he growled softly, ¡°Ever the Clan Head. Of course you are already thinking of wider effects and plans.¡±


    He sat in silence for a few more moments as he contemplated the opportunity before him. Finally, he shook himself and sat up again.


    ¡°Fine. I will meet with you both each day for half an hour before the final bell. Make sure that you have your thoughts organized by then. I don¡¯t want to be wasting time. Dismissed.¡±


    They both stood straight and saluted, Ruufarrl with the traditional claws crossed over his chest and throat exposed, and the human with a silly seeming little finger touch to the forehead that must have been a drilled motion before realizing where he was and correcting himself to a Ruulothi Salute.


    Voorkar simply shook his head in amusement and waved them out.


    After they were gone Voorkar heard a door open behind him and footsteps approach before a familiar voice addressed him.


    ¡°It isn¡¯t often that I see you entertain such notions. What makes this one different from the countless others you have discarded?¡±


    ¡°Those two seem to be catalysts of change, and they were working in tandem. If it had just been Conrad making the suggestion, I may have simply discarded it. I believe that Ruufarrl knew this, and that is why he showed his support of the idea. We cannot forget that he has been dealing with intrigue for most of his life. Nor that he is the closest thing to an expert on Humans that we have.


    ¡°As for the human¡­¡± He shook his head and turned to look Lorthaal in the eyes, ¡°We simply don¡¯t know enough about him or his people. While with us, and before, he has certainly demonstrated himself to be both a team player and resourceful in surprising ways, especially when confronted with unplanned complications. What then might we see if he actually has the time to sit down and prepare something purpose built? Something that is designed to improve the abilities of those around him?¡±


    To his surprise, the normally stoic Lorthaal smiled at him, something that he had only rarely ever seen.


    ¡°Good. It would be a greater shame to have a mind like that go to waste. You made the right decision. Let me know if they come up with something that looks viable. No need to wait. This may well be the most lucrative and promising trip we have ever had.¡±


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    __________________________________


    -Conrad-


    Voorkar was true to his word. For the remainder of their time on planet he had brought them in to work over the concepts that he and Ruufarrl proposed from the wealth of engineering options provided by Humanity¡¯s long history of warfare and weapon¡¯s upgrades.


    They settled on a concept that provided the most benefit for the least modifications to existing items. This way they could both avoid some of the restrictions that GalCom had on private entities creating weapons of war and minimize the overall cost and material requirements of the effort to something well within their reach.


    The modification that they finally agreed upon was a custom folding stock that took into account the difficulties presented by their shoulders. It would be slightly offset with a ¡°dog leg¡± when fully deployed and incorporated a half-ring shoulder piece that could wrap around the gun when collapsed, and snug into their shoulders when deployed.


    The design took full advantage of the EBR¡¯s lack of an ejection port to fold the stock around to the right of the weapon instead of over the top, underneath, or to the left as was standard in human weaponry. In fact, it was this feature that ultimately made the design possible, allowing them to add the half ring shoulder brace to the design.


    As a benefit to both simplicity and cost, the only real modification necessary to the original weapon system was to find a way to attach the hinged baseplate of the stock to the back of the gun. From there it was really just a curiously bent metal bar. Nothing else about the weapon needed to be moved or changed in anyway.


    Ultimately, Voorkar was quite happy with the intended design and passed on that it had been approved by the Captain. Manufacturing and testing would begin when they returned to Ruuloth, as would sharing the design¡­ provided it worked of course.


    There was going to need to be some retraining necessary, but it shouldn¡¯t be a difficult transition for a skilled or experienced warrior or soldier to pick one up and figure out how it worked.


    Conrad couldn¡¯t be happier after leaving the last meeting. He was elated to be able to provide for his crewmates in some small way, even if it was going to take some time to implement. He was both excited and curious as to how well the Ruulothi, Sadiil and other species would take to the modifications. But he was going to have to wait to see the fruits of his labor.


    He also idly wondered whether or not he even should be making such modifications. In the end, if it came down to war in spite of their best efforts, wouldn¡¯t it be better to not be giving his potential enemies a way to make their soldiers more efficient?


    He sighed to himself as he once again began doubting his efforts. ¡°I am so not cut out for this political intrigue crap. I see problems and fix them. I neither care enough nor am I trained enough to even think about how it might alter the Galactic political landscape until well after the fact. Intergalactic Man of Mystery I am most definitely not. Welp, what¡¯s done is done now. The idea is out there, can¡¯t take it back unless I want to murder everyone on this ship, and TRULY make Humanity an enemy of the Ruulothi and Galactics as a whole. Wouldn¡¯t THAT be nice?¡±


    He pulled himself into his bunk and got comfortable while he mentally stewed. Finally, he tried a few meditative exercises to attempt to clear his mind of distractions and get to sleep quicker. They had a final day of practice and cleanup to get through, and he was going to need to be rested to meet it head on.


    _____________________________________


    The last day of training went smoothly, at least as far as Conrad could tell. None of the other recruits attempted to mimic him, and they threw themselves into their training with a renewed focus. It seemed that Voorkar¡¯s message had sunk in.


    At the very end, the Instructors and Veterans put on a skills display, showing the newbies what the benefits of experience, control and proper teamwork offered.


    After the demonstration they had a final open-air meal before packing up all their equipment. With Voorkar and Loadmaster Nooraal directing them, and the veterans pitching in, the job went far smoother than he had expected it to. They were packed up within fifteen minutes, leaving the final job of loading the crates to Conrad and Vistiin. Ten minutes later they performed a final headcount and dusted off.


    They stopped at the space station to make sure they were stocked on supplies, then were expected to head off on the next delivery.


    This open schedule left the crew with more dead time than usual. Conrad learned during his continued meetings with Voorkar that this was intentionally done so as to allow the lessons of the last week to sink in without undue distractions and allow them to get used to their duty schedule again.


    Voorkar proved himself to be just as avid a learner as he demanded of his crew. They continued their talks about optimizing their gear and finding ways to potentially cut costs without compromising safety at the same time. But since they had already accomplished their goal with the weaponry, all of that took a backseat to learning about each other¡¯s cultures and history.


    Ruufarrl had laid the groundwork back when he first selected Conrad as an aspirant, and his experiences both on the ships and on Ruuloth had taught him a lot, but Voorkar refined that knowledge into something that was capable of being used for far more than just being polite.


    As the First Officer of the ship, the crew¡¯s wellbeing and conduct was Voorkar¡¯s field of responsibility. It was his duty to ensure that those he held authority over didn¡¯t embarrass or harm the ship, crew or Captain. Now that there was no concern of his efforts being wasted with a recruit that was going to wash out, Voorkar was stepping into his teaching duties. Since Conrad was the only new recruit that wasn¡¯t already familiar with local cultures, he got extra lessons.


    These proved to be quite extensive and broad lessons. He had never been given a real in-depth training on Galactic policies and procedures as he had just been a loader on his last ship. He had no real interactions that mattered in the long run on the Dark Meridian, and if he messed up badly, he would have been quite easily replaced.


    This wasn¡¯t the case on the Wind Runner. Here the crew and ship were both small enough, and the responsibilities shared enough, that he was more than likely going to wind up representing them in some way.


    His time with Ruufarrl gave him a solid starting point, so Voorkar leaned into that and expanded on his knowledge of Ruulothi culture, then tied it into the current Galactic Culture. He also gave him a crash course in Mercantile patterns and efforts, as at some point it was going to be likely that he would need to assist with a mission to purchase supplies and equipment. If that happened, he would be assigned as a part of a small team that would work together to find the best prices and quality of product and bring it back to the ship.


    The theory for that kind of operation was that more eyes and more minds would increase the chances of catching something, be it a better option, or noticing a scam.


    In return, Conrad taught Voorkar what he could of Human culture and policies, so that he could stand on better ground if and when he ever found himself dealing with Humanity. He couldn¡¯t provide as much as Voorkar could, but they both knew that anything was far better than nothing.


    _______________________________


    Their lessons made the nearly two week long voyage to their next system delivery go by quickly.


    Conrad found himself finishing up a shift of cleaning, inventory and equipment maintenance in the Cargo Bay as they de-transitioned from Jump Space. He shook his head as his senses returned to normal and detached himself from the emergency harness. He only had a few tasks left to complete before the end of his shift and was hoping to get them done fast enough to rack out a little early.


    His remaining tasks took him roughly an hour to verify and clear. He was just returning the logging pad when Nooraal walked through the crew hatch with Vistiin and waved him over.


    ¡°Do you have those inventories done yet?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir. You actually have excellent timing, just finished.¡±


    Nooraal flicked one ear and grunted as he took the pad and looked at it, seeming grumpier than usual. Vistiin looked on from behind, his face drawn tight.


    ¡°I hope you hold on to that humor. Sadly, our work isn¡¯t done yet. New orders. Apparently, there was a message waiting for us on the local net. We are to unload all current inventory and pick up a special load for immediate emergency transport.¡±


    Conrad blinked in surprise, ¡°Emergency transport? Was there a disaster or an attack?¡±


    Nooraal snorted, ¡°Both, more than likely. Or at least it will be soon. Food and medical supplies it says. Location¡­ Dunno just yet. Captain is verifying all information as we speak. So, our job has turned from inventory management to delivery control. We need to take this list and identify which cargo is going where, and where a ship is likely to go after considering the major shipping routes. I believe you have been learning about those from Voorkar?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ Yes. Can¡¯t say I really expected to need it so soon, though.¡± He looked around him at the various cargo containers and mentally ran over the new info and the information he had just logged.


    ¡°I take it we are making an unloading plan that places cargo together in groups to facilitate someone else shipping them?¡±


    ¡°Heh, not bad. That is right. Now, you two come on over here to my office, let us go over these logs and the shipping star charts and see what we can manage. Any extra effort we put in here will be greatly appreciated by our customers on the other end.


    ¡°They know we can be commandeered for these things at the drop of a hat, but it is still a disruption of services. Local shipping will take care of assigning delivery ships. We just need to make their job easier and put everything in one place.


    ¡°So, Mr. Mclaughlin. Where do we start?¡±


    _________________________________________


    -Lorthaal-


    He growled in frustration once more as he looked at the offending message on his terminal. It¡¯s gratingly respectful language camouflaging the raging boil of the intent beneath.


    That knowledge did him no good. The information had been verified by a trusted confidant, making the demand a legitimate and legal one. There was nothing he could truly do about it. His ears flicked rapidly in irritation as he thought about his crew and how this would affect them; and thought in particular about the two that he thought this latest contrived action was most likely tied to.


    ¡°A contested fringe world with a newly lowered threat limit, increasing trade options. But still enough of an emergency to warrant fresh supplies? Winds cursed politicians. They can¡¯t possibly be thinking they are fooling anyone with this¡­ But I can¡¯t blame anyone but myself for this, I knew what I was getting into when I brought them on. Ehh. I don¡¯t have any real proof of that either, but it doesn¡¯t take a genius to follow the paths here.¡±


    He looked at the missive again and sighed, attempting to redirect himself. He had a few options to increase their chances of this just being an interesting sidenote instead of an actual problem.


    ¡°Hmmph, too bad we haven¡¯t had time to test those new add-ons the human came up with. That personal armor he mentioned would certainly have helped too¡­ If I could get my crew to wear it, that is.¡±


    He shook himself finally and stood up, walking from his personal room and to the Command Room.


    Taking his seat, he turned to address his navigator and systems specialists.


    ¡°Woorsiin, when we arrive at our destination, I am going to have a list of needs for you to track down. Immediate need, at any cost.¡±


    ¡°Rinvoor, continue to the local Station as planned, but we won¡¯t be following our original path from there. Draw up a new route, fastest possible to the destination.


    ¡°We are going to Fildecl.¡±

 Chapter 30

    -Claire-


    ¡°So, that is how GalStan handles the concepts of gendered nouns and plurals. In practice it works very much like Old Earth romantic languages such as French, German and Spanish. In contrast, they don¡¯t place much inflection on past and future participles, preferring instead to outright state the intended tense. They DO, however, place strong inflection on related concepts of ownership, such as with the words Jind, Jindon and Kas¡¯Jind; Hide, Hidden and Secret, respectively.


    ¡°They also use what we call ¡®Utility¡¯ words in place of conjunctions, where the actual word as we recognize it is inferred by the context of the surrounding words. The most common of these is ¡®Ien¡¯, which governs the use of A/It/To/Too/Is and So.


    ¡°They also make common use of compounding words, concepts that add or extend upon a root word to create a related concept. Using part of our earlier example we have Kas¡¯Jind, or Secret, and then Kason, Kaslin, Kas¡¯ava and Kastor; which are Knowledge, Learning, School or more accurately, Shelter of Instruction, and Test.


    ¡°Some of you may have noticed that spoken GalStan has an archetypal cadence that flows through the language. This seems to be an intentional construct put in place when the language was created, as it allows the new users of the language to better place their words and inflections. As with all things associated with the Galactics, have created their universal language with the intent of making it as easy to pick up and use for new arrivals as possible. This is also why there are some consonants that we are familiar with that are missing from the Trade Language, like the hard ¡°G¡¯s¡± and ¡°J¡¯s¡± which become Guh and Yuh sounds. This is because there are some races, such as the Chirleen that we are going to see, that don¡¯t have the appropriate anatomies to properly form those sounds.


    ¡°Their written language uses a series of scribe marks that should be easy for any new species to begin replicating, whether through claw or tool. Remember they write apostrophes to connect their pronouns to nouns into a single word, and they write their duplicated letters connected to one another as though being mirrored.


    ¡°Putting that all together we get this, a common Ruulothi proverb translated into GalStan:


    ¡°Drekk ien mon ket brell, sut ien anen mon kas¡¯jinds. Vin esto ien tallan drekk paaon voh ket nelan. Which means, ¡®Death is not the end, and it keeps no secrets. For even a quiet death echoes in the night.¡¯¡±


    Claire wrapped up her block of instruction and opened the floor up to questions. She answered them as best as she could. Though she was still conversationally fluent, there had been few opportunities to actually use her language skills. This meant that some of her capabilities had fallen by the wayside as time went on, leaving gaps in her knowledge. Her instruction now was bringing back some of what she had forgotten and giving her the chance to improve herself at the same time.


    Despite her frustration at discovering she had lost some of her skill, she was plenty satisfied with her ability to recover what had been lost. She considered it to be a lesson in perseverance.


    Once all questions had been addressed, they broke for a quick break before their next instruction block, which was going to consist of familiarization of the planet Fildecl itself. Tomorrow they were going to focus on studying the Chirleen and local politics.


    ___________________________________________________


    -Damien Winters-


    ¡°Fildecl is a temperate world with large oceans and numerous lakes and rocky mountain ranges that sits on the inside edge of the habitable zone around its star. There are four major oceans that cover the majority of the planet, and three major continents with about six smaller subcontinents, that in effect are more like large islands. From the equator to the sub arctic regions the world is covered in forests and mountain ranges.


    ¡°Overall, the planet ranges from hot to warm, with the notable exceptions being the small arctic poles. The northern pole is a glacial shelf that rests on the nexus of several mountain ranges. The southern pole is a sheet of ice attached to a small subcontinent.


    Winter¡¯s deep voice carried through the briefing room as he explained the ins and outs of the planet they were going to be landing on. Though they weren¡¯t directly planning on needing to act in their traditional Search and Rescue Capacity, it was still good practice to know what they were getting into.


    He had been keeping a careful eye on the greenhorns. There was a lot of information and training that they needed to absorb, and they hadn¡¯t had the time he would have preferred to have to train them properly before their deployment.


    ¡°Hell, there hadn¡¯t even been enough time to have a proper diplomatic envoy assigned. This whole effort is a disaster waiting to happen. Not enough people that speak the language. Not enough time to teach, prepare, train or fully staff. Even the planetary briefing is based off old information. I hope to hell that these Chirleen are as friendly to outsiders as we have been told. Ehhh, speaking of¡­¡±


    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    ¡°The Chirleen have primarily inhabited the largest of the continents, which they call Chworaal. They have plans to expand to other continents, but those plans have been put on hold thanks to the issues they have been having with the Qazirxel. There are seven cities on Chworaal, with a number of outposts and villages in remote areas as they continued to expand internally in spite of the blockade on the system. It appears they kept things to the local continent to prevent any supply chain or unforeseen complications from arising until they were free to act as they desired.


    ¡°We don¡¯t yet know where exactly we are going to be landing, that is going to be determined when we get in system and make contact with the Chirleen themselves. Which should be in another couple of days.¡±


    One of the crew raised a hand to ask a question, ¡°I know we are bringing supplies, but from what I can see it will just be a drop in the bucket for a population of that size. What are we really doing here?¡±


    ¡°That is a fair point, and you aren¡¯t incorrect. Though the supplies we carry aren¡¯t much in comparison to the entirety of the planet¡¯s population, we are a part of the first wave and the supplies we carry are very much needed. We are also a valuable medical resource, which from the request we received is something that they have begun running very low on.


    ¡°As we discussed in our original briefing before we left Proxima, our medical instruments aren¡¯t keyed just yet to Chirleen physiology, but the DNA coding programs will quickly change that and allow us to begin providing care for those who have been suffering. Our facilities and machinery can work absolute wonders, but only if we have the encoded information. Their baseline genetic structure is something that we are going to have to bargain for once we get in system. Once we have that it will greatly reduce the time required to assess and treat those who come to us for care.


    ¡°Oh, and for those among us who just joined, the medical equipment we carry uses both accelerated stem cell treatments, genetic encoding, and nanites to repair damages to a person¡¯s body, root out and eliminate diseases and synthesize medicines. In addition to being a fully equipped search and rescue vessel, we are essentially a portable hospital, but one with a limited bed capacity. We primarily use our facilities to save those injured during natural disasters but are sometimes called upon to provide assistance during other emergencies, such as this one.


    ¡°That means that there is a high likelihood that we are going to be bouncing between different settlements until the local Government can get their supply issues squared away. Which in turn means that we aren¡¯t going to be able to fully embed in one particular community. So, check your habits, remember your briefings and diplomacy trainings and if there is any question about something, ask a department head first.


    ¡°There are going to be a lot of first impressions down there, and we are now on the razor¡¯s edge of Humanity¡¯s diplomatic efforts. Whatever impression you give them is going to reflect on how they see humanity as a whole. Remember, we have the film crew with us, but they are more focused on how what we do looks back home rather than how we look to our hosts. But they have volunteered to go over their own training that covers the basics of conversational diplomacy, situational awareness and recognizing cultural cues.¡±


    He stopped a moment to let all that sink in before adding one final touch with a predatory smile.


    ¡°No pressure.¡±


    _____________________________________________________


    The security door hissed open and shut again as Damien stepped onto the bridge of the Crucis Renatus. He took in the general bustle of activity from the Control Crew as they prepped for their final jump of the trip.


    Commander Hawke was mulling over reports in his command chair and looked up as the door sealed itself behind Damien.


    ¡°Ah, Damien. How are the instructional blocks going?¡±


    ¡°Better than expected Sir. Still worried, we don¡¯t yet have the information we usually have. But the crew are as prepared as we can make them.¡±


    He caught Hawke¡¯s brief smirk at his comment. It was an old and familiar tradeoff between them. They were never trained enough for Damien¡¯s liking or had enough information. It was a habit carried over from his military days, where a bad briefing and intel could mean absolute disaster.


    It was also a habit that Hawke allowed him, as he felt that Damien¡¯s extra focus on training improved their overall readiness and effectiveness.


    Even if it meant he had to listen to Damien gripe about it from time to time.


    Damien¡¯s expression softened as he shook his head and grinned himself, as he could see the reports the Commander had been looking at were contingency and emergency plans. It seems they were of a like mind on this trip.


    ¡°How much longer to final jump, Sir?¡±


    Hawke continued to review his reports as he answered, ¡°We are running final checks now. I am having Josiah and the rest of the engineering crew set up a Relay Buoy on both sides of the jump, just in case. If worst comes to worst, at least a record of what happened will make it back home.¡±


    Damien sighed, ¡°Sometimes that is the best we can hope for, right? At least we won¡¯t just disappear.¡±


    ¡°Yeah. I also have the ship computers ready to send a Crash Burst in the event of a catastrophic failure of some kind or distress signal activation by a member of the Command Crew. God willing, we won¡¯t need it.¡±


    Their discourse was interrupted by the Senior Sensor Tech calling out, ¡°Commander, the Buoy has been launched, and second Buoy prepped. Final checks from all areas are completed. We are Jump ready, Sir.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Mr. Mitchell. Start the countdown, please.¡± He responded before reaching for the ship wide intercom.


    ¡°All hands, All hands. Commencing final jump. Commencing final jump. Strap in to jump stations. Strap in to jump stations.


    ¡°Right then¡­ here we go.¡±


    Damien strapped into his chair and gave him a mischievous grin, ¡°Boldly going, Sir?¡±


    Hawke gave his XO a sidelong glare, ¡°Don¡¯t you start now.¡±


    They sat and waited for the clock on the main display to wind down. As the last few seconds ticked away, he gripped the arms of his chair tighter. As he saw the rest of the bridge crew brace for the jump he muttered to himself under his breath, ¡°And here. We. Go.¡±


    The indescribable feeling of being stretched across space and time took him as the jump drive engaged and launched them to an uncertain future.

 Chapter 31

    -Commander Hawke-


    His senses returned to him with a jolt, and the sound of the taste of steel faded from his mind. Certainly one of his stranger sensations on transition, but nothing to truly write home about as far as he was concerned.


    ¡°Transition complete, Commander. All systems show green. All stations report green. Engines spooling up to full.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Miss Vickers. Mr. Mitchell, what have we got?¡±


    ¡°Sir. Initial scan readings show a four-planet system: one Jovian, two rocky, one habitable. Radio, drive signatures and sensor echoes emanating from the habitable world. All readings match our intended destination. We have arrived in Fildecl¡­ though there appears to be a host of ships out near the jovian that are not showing GalCom IFF¡¯s. Shall I deploy the relay probe?¡±


    ¡°Yes, and get a third ready, just in case. That other fleet has me concerned, seems likely they are watchdogs from whomever was contesting the system before it was cleared. With luck our hosts will allow us to drop the probe in orbit, and we can upload to it in real time until it is needed. Speaking of our hosts¡­ Any hails Mr. Danforth?¡±


    ¡°Not at this time, Sir. With the GalCom station in orbit, they may be expecting us to contact them within ten minutes, as per Galactic Protocol.¡±


    Hawke groaned and rubbed his face, ¡°Of all the backwards assed¡­ It is like they have no real idea about standard and efficient security protocols. Or maybe it is just alien thinking, either way...¡±


    ¡°Right, let¡¯s not be true gatecrashers, especially in a potentially contested system. Say hello for us Mr. Danforth.¡±


    ¡°Standard Hospitaller Intro sent...receiving a response.¡±


    ¡°On screen then, two-way video. Might as well do this properly and see what we are dealing with.¡±


    The forward viewscreen flickered as it shifted from showing the outside to an image of an avian that Hawke thought strongly resembled one of those Old Earth snake killer birds he had once seen a special about. It had a bipedal stature, was covered in what looked to be a sort of down with a flared crest of true feathers on the back of its head. The Chirleen¡¯s eyes glittered with intelligence and its head twitched from side to side as they rapidly scanned their own view screen, taking in the unusual visitors without indication of surprise.


    Hawke mentally nodded to himself, ¡°Hmm, a good start. They are certainly a professional sort. Now let¡¯s see how this goes.¡±


    ¡°Crucis Renatus. You are humans correct?¡± The creature waited a few moments for Hawke to answer with an ¡°Aye, we are.¡± Before continuing.


    ¡°Your initial burst stated that you are here on a relief mission, but we have not petitioned humanity for aid. Could you explain?¡±


    Hawke cocked his head at this news, seeing some of his bridge crew react in a similar way. The Chirleen on screen saw the wave of confusion pass through the human crew and tilted its head down as it pulled it back. Hawke believed it to be contemplating the crew¡¯s reactions.


    He cleared his throat looked at his comms officer, ¡°Mr. Danforth, could you send over the entire package request, please. Looks like the Bureaucrats have bungled things up again.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir. Package sent.¡± Danforth looked at the screen to verify that the message had been received.


    He sincerely hoped that this hadn¡¯t been an outdated, or even false, request. Such things happened from time to time and could sometimes lead to conflict. Usually, it was someone failing to verify something that was old and had been missed.


    He didn¡¯t think that was the case here, as this sector of space had been in the news even the day that they lifted off. He knew they needed the help, but if they hadn¡¯t been the ones to send the request¡­ Then who had?


    The alien¡¯s terminal warbled at them, and it diverted its attention to the alert for a few moments before clacking its beak together and signaling to someone off screen and pushing a couple of buttons.


    The Chirleen returned to looking at the viewscreen and addressed them, ¡°My apologies, the root credentials are indeed from a request for aid that we had placed, but the content is different than anything I am aware of us sending out, and you were certainly not the original intended recipients. Regardless, your response is indeed appreciated. My name is Chwill. I will be your contact point while we get this figured out.


    All relief ships are cleared to approach to the lunar orbit of Fildecl until cleared for final approach. Please continue on to that point, and I will be reaching out to you as more information arrives. Are you looking to dock at the station or are you atmosphere capable?¡±


    ¡°We are capable of planetary landings, and rather prefer it. Our ship is our base, and it contains much of the equipment we would normally use for rescue and aid operations.¡±


    ¡°I understand and will add that to your portfolio. Will there be any others coming after you?¡±


    ¡°Not to the best of my knowledge. I believe we were the only ones mobilized for this mission, but I can¡¯t be entirely certain someone not associated with my group got a similar message.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for the information. If I may ask, what sort of equipment do you carry on board?¡±


    ¡°Basic mobility vehicles for transport and hauling, some heavier equipment for excavation projects and a full medical suite. We left a fair bit of our equipment behind to bring along as many supplies as we could. Mostly medical, food and other emergency supplies. Send them a cargo list please.¡±


    ¡°On the way, Sir.¡±


    Chwill tilted his head at the list as it trilled from the terminal, ¡°You are a mobile hospital?¡±


    ¡°After a fashion. We are equipped as such, but we are limited in space. We can certainly set up a field hospital and containment center if needed. ¡°


    The alien¡¯s body language shifted, and Hawke knew that there was much it wanted to say and ask but was afraid of giving out too much information. Chwill likely already knew he had said too much with the follow up question about the hospital.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    ¡°They are hurting for medical needs. A siege like the one they just experienced will leave them critically short on meds, food and other necessities. But they also weren¡¯t expecting us, and don¡¯t know how to react to our presence. Question is, do they take the risk of the unknown, or do they turn us away out of caution. Not REALLY much a single ship and crew can do to an entire planet, but they don¡¯t know where our allegiances lie.¡±


    ¡°I see. I ask that you be please be patient and continue your approach as per normal standards. I will forward your information to the appropriate Department Heads and get further instruction as soon as I can. Again, thank you for your response to our request. I will get in contact with you again shortly.¡±


    Chwill cut the feed with a respectful nod, leaving the Hospitaller¡¯s bridge crew looking around at each other in confusion.


    ¡°Well, that was certainly an interesting reception.¡± Damien¡¯s basso voice echoed from behind Hawke, reminding him that his XO was still there. ¡°Seems that someone has been playing chasy chasy, catchy catchy shadow games. Not sure I like that, especially in alien space.¡±


    ¡°Agreed.¡± Hawke growled in return. He didn¡¯t need to explain his thoughts on the matter. Damien was plenty smart enough to have reached the same conclusions already. He turned to give Damien his next task but found him standing up and making to leave.


    His XO chuckled at his raised eyebrow, ¡°Want me to accelerate the training and make sure everyone can operate as needed, right?¡±


    Hawk snorted and grinned, waving his hand in dismissal before turning back to the task of managing his ship.


    It really was nice to have good help.


    _______________________________________________________________


    -Claire-


    ¡°Who¡¯s a good boy? That¡¯s right¡­ You are!¡±


    The tall, dark-haired man sitting in the corner of the kennel room snorted in amusement at her antics before chastising her and returning to his terminal, ¡°Please remember that we don¡¯t want them spoiled. A lazy rescue dog does no one any good.¡±


    Unhappy with the attention his brother was getting, Rocky shouldered in to push Regis aside and get his own fair share of pets.


    ¡°I know, I know. But Transitions are hard on humans, let alone animals. Just need to let them know that it is all ok.¡± She paused a moment to get under each dog¡¯s chin before standing.


    ¡°Speaking of, they are remarkably well adjusted to the jumps, even for trained animals. How did you manage that, Keith?¡±


    The Lance¡¯s resident Animal handler leaned back from the terminal he was occupied with and tilted his head back in thought before answering.


    ¡°A number of factors. Their Kennels are specialized tools that can dampen senses when turned on for the jumps. They have also been trained from birth to handle the jumps, specifically by request of the Hospitallers. I handle some of the remedial training here, but really the most of it comes from them. They are descended from Bernese Mountain Dogs and raised in the mountains and forests of Riven IV, and they already have a calm and happy-go-lucky temperament that helps with dealing with strangeness. That is one of the reasons why they were cleared for alien contact as well.


    ¡°Hell, these two probably have more jumps under their collars than I do.¡±


    The dogs sensed the attention directed at them and swarmed Keith, placing their chins on his leg for more head pats. He chuckled again and obliged them.


    ¡°So, how did their checkup go? They ready to tackle the unknown again?¡±


    Claire smiled as she put her veterinary instruments away, ¡°They are looking great. A few indicators of stress, like their ramped-up need for attention. But otherwise, they are just fine. Shouldn¡¯t be any issue with deploying them groundside. Though I don¡¯t know how they will handle our clients. Best to take it one careful step at a time there.¡±


    ¡°Agreed.¡± Keith pointed to the terminal he had been using, ¡°I was going over the procedures for exposing them to aliens again and trying to figure out the best way of handling it. Sadly, they are more loose guidelines than they are solid policy. It basically says to follow the standard procedures for introducing any animal to a new environment, just be extra careful with how they are presented and pull them if there is any sign of hostility. I guess our final course of action will be determined by where we are allowed to set down at.¡±


    Claire tilted her head and shrugged, ¡°Yeah, it would be a different process if you landed in a shuttle port as opposed to the outside of town¡­ I hope we get to set down outside of town. Most animals hate cities to begin with. Too many noises and smells overwhelm them and stress them out.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, that it does.¡± He looked to the dogs and gave them a hand signal along with a short, sharp whistle. The twins sat back and looked at him expectantly. ¡°Right then, Kenn-NEL!¡±


    With a snuff of disappointment, the two dogs went into their assigned kennels and waited. Keith gave them a nod and tossed each of them their favorite chew toy before closing their doors. Neither of them cared much, as they were dead set on savaging their toys.


    Keith turned to Claire with a smile, ¡°Aight, you¡¯re all set to head out.¡±


    Claire giggled and shook her head, ¡°Have they ever gotten out into the ship proper unsupervised?¡±


    ¡°Only once,¡± the man said with a grimace, ¡°And I will never live that day down.¡±


    ¡°Oooh, sounds like a story?¡±


    He chortled at his own discomfort, ¡°Maybe someday. You better get going before you wind up late for your next briefing.¡±


    Claire looked at her watch before whooping in surprise, realizing too late that she had lost track of time while playing with the dogs.


    ¡°Oh, no. SorrygottagoBYE!¡±


    ____________________________________________________


    -Commander Hawke-


    ¡°My apologies for the extended delay, Commander Hawke. And my thanks for following our protocols without resistance, such as they are. Here are the landing protocols and agreement we seek.¡±


    Chwill worked his screen for a moment and a chime sounded at Ensign Danforth¡¯s terminal. He gave it a once over for verification before sending it on to the Command Terminal. Hawke looked over the information package. It was a fairly standard affair that stipulated what they could and could not do in their capacity for an aid group, including their landing destination. He saw no overriding issues with anything in it and nodded to the waiting alien.


    ¡°These look to be more than agreeable. You are certain that it is ok to sequence your species¡¯ DNA?¡±


    ¡°It is indeed. Our planetary Governor, Swiit, authorized it. If your equipment is truly as good as it appears, it will be a great boon for the local towns where you will be landing. Medical aid has grown scarce, and we have been forced to begin a planetary triage. It is getting better, but we are by no means in the clear just yet.


    ¡°We colonized quickly, probably too quickly, thanks to the fear of being contested. Those fears were then realized. We were cut off from our home system before being fully able to sequence and discover illnesses and other issues and come up with fixes for them. We weren¡¯t as prepared for Colonization as we really should have been.


    ¡°The placement of the Galactic Station was beneficial, but not enough to break the surge of the tides. In essence, the potential risk of that data being misused is far outweighed by the benefit of its proper use.¡±


    Hawke nodded, knowing that the decision would not have been an easy one. Knowing that they were in such a condition as to have that authorized as quickly as it actually was spoke volumes about their actual condition on the planet.


    ¡°We will take good care of it. Is there anything we should know about our landing area and the communities around it?¡±


    Chwill thought for a few moments, then chattered to someone just off camera. ¡°I will have the maps and demographic information sent to you. Overall, it is a cluster of three communities situated around a large lake. They aren¡¯t too far from the Capital, few of our communities are yet, but it is far enough that as time moved on they began running out of the supplies needed to even make the trips for more supplies. But they were close enough to support each other. If we can get them in a good place, we can use them as a hub and staging area for other communities. Most of which have already collapsed and migrated to that area for support anyway.¡±


    ¡°Which put a larger strain on the already low supplies.¡± Hawke stated, understanding well what had happened.


    ¡°Exactly. By easing their hurts, we can create the option for the collapsed communities to return to their own areas.¡±


    ¡°Understood. I assume that we will still be going through your department if we should need an official liaison or something unexpected comes up?¡±


    ¡°You will indeed. Your ship¡¯s frequency has been logged into our systems. You will be forwarded here when you need to make contact for any official business.¡±


    ¡°Very well. Thank you for your help, Mister Chwill. I sincerely hope that we can alleviate some of your burden.¡±


    ¡°As do I. You are cleared for approach and landing as soon as you make Orbit, Commander Hawke. It has been a pleasure working with you.¡±

 Chapter 32

    -Hawke-


    Their last week in transit was spent ensuring that they were able to integrate as best as they could with the local population. Their liaison, Chwill, had sent over the necessary material to facilitate their efforts and the training had gone well. Hawke was confident that his people weren¡¯t going to cause any sort of major intergalactic incident.


    There was a small incident just before initiating planetfall with the GalCom station personnel that stalled their approach briefly. A GalCom representative was running inspections of ships and cargo to the planet. Hawke had been surprised when the Chirleen had stepped in and cited that because neither the Chirleen or Humans were full members of GalCom, they were not subject to their inspections either and therefore the distribution of aid material and their inspections were up to the Chirleen government alone. Their unexpected backing meant that Hawke was able to land and get the materials and equipment they carried in place as soon as possible.


    The inspector hadn¡¯t been happy with the interruption, but Hawke didn¡¯t care. As far as he was concerned it was an unnecessary show of bureaucracy in the face of an emergency. The Hospitallers had long been listed as an unaffiliated aid organization for a reason. It was intended to streamline their response time, protect them from retaliation, and prevent situations just like this one where their aid efforts got hampered by someone trying to run interference and stall their missions.


    The Galactics either didn¡¯t understand their company designations or hadn¡¯t gotten the memo.


    Regardless, they had made planetfall in their assigned area, landing in a large field to the side of the settlement of Tiquil.


    The town itself was reminiscent of late medieval towns in form and was fairly large for that, it was the local hub town after all. It sprawled over roughly a mile of land, with its densest sector and town ¡°center¡± being the waterfront district. In all honesty, Hawke felt he could have designated it as a fledgling city for its size and function. He was certain that it easily would have been classified as such by now if it hadn¡¯t been for the blockade preventing the Chirleen from building up as they wished.


    The field that they had parked their ship was one of two next to the town that was large enough for a small spaceship to land. Hawke had chosen the one furthest from the trade ways and roads to minimize the culture shock for those that were not expecting such a ship to be present. This would minimize the random lookie-loos that always showed up when an aid ship was present and allow him to provide better security for his people and their equipment.


    ¡°Not to mention a strange ship filled with unknown aliens.¡± He thought to himself. The lower a profile they kept until things were situated, the better.


    The good news was the Chirleen as a whole were fairly homogenous in both culture and ideals. They placed a lot of emphasis on respecting boundaries and weren¡¯t as culturally fractured as humans used to be, and in some cases still were.


    They had been met by the local equivalent of a governor and their assigned liaisons and translators for the locals. They were greatly appreciative, but there was an edge to them when they spoke. He knew it was to be expected given that the Hospitallers and humans in general were a complete unknown to them. But as their conversations went on and they were given a tour of the facilities his group had access to, the edge faded in favor of an eagerness to get things moving.


    With the preliminary business negotiations done with, Hawke and his crew were given full access to the town and its amenities, provided that any exploration was done in a group so that a translator could accompany them. The Chirleen had yet to fully integrate mechanical translators for their civilian populace. So, while most centralized merchants and the various leaders either understood GalStan or had access to the translation equipment, the majority of regular civilians did not. The cost of equipping their population had thus far been too prohibitive given the circumstances.


    While the Chirleen could learn to articulate GalStan, it was incredibly difficult and unnatural for them to do so, requiring extreme and learned control over their vocal cords and tongues. As a result, few bothered to learn the language and chose instead to wait for the translators to make the rounds and get issued.


    ¡°Just another one of those things that fall through the cracks. Spent all that time teaching the crew GalStan, only for it to be basically useless because we hadn¡¯t anticipated that this new species would be at the same point of their integration as we are. Oversight at its finest. At least they are making an effort on our behalf, otherwise this would be one incredibly frustrating trip.¡±


    Hawke shook his head at his own musings as he watched his crew begin setting up triage tents and unload their supplies. The cargo crates they had brought were being placed onto Chirleen run trolleys before getting carted off to distribution centers. He could see Damien and his senior staff were walking the Chirleen doctors through the functions of their medical equipment with the help of the translators, while the rest of his department, including the new girl, were getting the equipment hooked up and running.


    Hawke snorted and turned to watch a couple of his engineers send up a few drones to get a readout of the local land and map out the area. He didn¡¯t know if that poor girl had the best or the worst luck just yet, but she was integrating well with the others and more than pulling her weight. He made a mental note to have Damien keep an eye on her mental health. Her file showed she wouldn¡¯t be an issue, but he knew better than to trust the papers any further than he could huck them. They had been bitten by undiagnosed and unspoken trauma or PTSD before, along with sealed or expunged criminal records that never should have been.


    His own read of the girl said that she would be fine, but it didn¡¯t hurt to have the backup structure in place. He owed it to his people to have their backs and anticipate problems, even if nothing came of it.


    He gave the activities one final check before walking down and getting his own hands dirty. His people, his ship, his mission.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Nobody was above the scut work, not even him.


    ____________________________________________________________________________


    -Claire-


    Their first few days on planet had been a whirlwind of activity.


    She hadn¡¯t known just how much work went into setting up a proper field hospital and triage center, and she was exhausted from the effort.


    The crew had been working almost non-stop since touchdown getting everything in place to meet the needs of the locals. Doing so included a few concessions that they hadn¡¯t planned for, but ultimately worked out for the better.


    Thanks to the difficulty in communicating, the local doctors and medical professionals had taken over the face-to-face work with their patients, leaving the humans to run the tech and serve as go-betweens. This wound up actually helping their integration process as the locals were able to get used to the new aliens in their midst without the difficulty of trying to overcome a language barrier and having these strange new people in their faces asking them personal questions as they poked and prodded.


    She had even overheard Damien saying that they were planning on revisiting their protocols to make this their standard operating procedure when dealing with other alien species. The original intent had been to interface, prepare and then step in to lighten the burden. But their leaders had seen the value in this approach as well.


    It also conveniently left the backlash from accidents and malpractice squarely in the hands of the local doctors, rather than the Crew. Conveniently preventing, or at least minimizing, any sort of intergalactic incident.


    Now that everything was set up and they were cycling patients through with the help of the locals, the crew had begun to implement their normal work schedules.


    The Medical Department would remain busy, which meant she wasn¡¯t looking at much in the way of time off. But that was the life and profession she had chosen, even if someone throwing some extra sleep her way wouldn¡¯t be turned down.


    The Engineering and Heavy Equipment crews were also hard at work. Somewhere along the line they had been tapped to help with the public works of the town, and were setting up and improving roads and other facilities for the locals.


    Their Trackers and Rangers were out looking for native flora to isolate and extract medicines from and find local wildlife to help supplement the crew¡¯s diets. The Chirleen didn¡¯t mind the animal harvesting as they subsisted off the bounty of the sea and water over that of the land, and actually had a hard time properly digesting ¡°red¡± meat. They grew supplemental vegetables and fruits, but the meat of land based creatures gave them issues. The Chirleen also didn¡¯t have the resources to support the humans anyway, so the less they had to help provide, the better.


    They were more than happy to let the humans begin conservatively culling the herds of animals encroaching on the town lines and getting into their farms and gardens, as well as protecting them from the complimentary predators.


    That was something that had surprised Claire when she learned of it. By and large, the Chirleen did not have weapons. They had a standing military, if one could call barely trained volunteers banding together to resist an outside threat with borrowed gear such, but their civilians did not generally have any sort of weaponry.


    They had no hunters, no armed militia or police, no rangers or dangerous animal specialists. When she asked they stated that they simply never had to deal with such things on their home planet. Their home world was covered in water with many islands and no large continents. They lived off the ocean, and anything large enough to pose a threat to them there was actively avoided as fighting it simply wasn¡¯t worth the danger. Rather than combat the threats to them, they simply stayed out of their territory.


    Any interpersonal fighting was largely done by volunteer champions. If there was a dispute, the community would send their Champion to resolve it in a trial, and both sides would abide by the results. Their individual tribes and clans were too small to support active warfare and as technology was introduced, they began sharing discoveries and working together to make ends meet instead of fighting.


    Thinking on it made Claire wonder where Humanity would be now if they had taken the same route. Would they be better off, or would they now be at the mercy of the Galactics without their core of independence? Though she suspected that the end result would be much the same as it was now. Humanity did have a history of island hoppers, and they fought just as much as those on the continents with far larger populations.


    In the end, she decided to leave it for the philosophers. She had work to do.


    Currently, that work consisted of helping a Chirleen Doctor do check-ups on children. Kwookal was the lead Doctor for matters pertaining to the Chirleen children and Claire had been working with her almost exclusively. She hadn¡¯t given Claire a definite answer on why she had requested her, but she had hinted that the children found the deeper voices of the male humans disconcerting and hard to understand and hear.


    She was mostly relegated to assistant status, running the computer, retrieving meds and equipment, and simply smiling supportively. But she didn¡¯t get worked up over her diminished role. It was good to simply observe how other species handled their medical procedures.


    ¡°That¡­ and the little Chirleen are just so darned CUTE!! SOOOO FLOOFY!¡±


    The young Chirleen, as was standard for avian species, had far more fluffy down that the adults had, and as such looked to Claire like little puff balls with attitude.


    Not that they were actually rude, but their facial structure made it look like they were scowling all the time.


    They were freaking adorable.


    Thankfully, most of the children they had seen were doing fine, if a bit malnourished. Chirleen society venerated children and ensured that they were able to survive, even if at the deficit of the older Chirleen. It was considered the right and just thing to do, which was another point in which they were able to get along well with the attending humans.


    Much of humanity feels the same way about ensuring the lives of their children, and the idea of selfless sacrifice for others was something ingrained in many of the crew.


    Slowly, as the days wore on and the locals got used to their presence and interacted with them more, they were able to begin building real relationships beyond the professionals that they were working with.


    It took a few weeks of straight work, but the influx of patients had finally slowed down enough that the crew were approved for some local R&R.


    They had another big safety meeting, but it was mostly just a formality. They were known well enough now that there shouldn¡¯t be any issues with the locals.


    In fact, many of the Tiquil residents had been asking when the crew would be able to spend time in town. A number of friendships had begun to take form and the social birds were keen to make a good impression and share their world with their new friends and allies.


    She was looking forward to her day off with Lily and a few others. They had heard through the grapevine that they were expecting another delivery of supplies today, and she was hoping be there when they arrived to see some more of the Galactic species and maybe get to speak with them. So far, none had come to this part of the planet, if there were even any ON the planet at the moment.


    Claire made a few last-minute adjustments in the mirror, then finished collecting her daily needs things into a small carry pack before practically ran out of her bunk area to meet the others. Excited to meet what the day would bring her.

 Bloodclaw Chronicles 33

    -Conrad-


    Conrad viewed the Vooriin Kalaarn board with suspicion. Vistiin, his fellow loader, had just moved his Arbalester into a potentially very compromising position for him. The barrier he had set up would stop direct attacks, but that particular unit would ignore the cover it provided.


    He looked back across the board to where Vistiin¡¯s partner, Stiirl, was setting up for a push and realized that they were planning to use the hammer and anvil tactic against him. His own barrier would prevent him from maneuvering his pieces into a safer position.


    His own partner, Furnaal, was watching his next move with interest, as it would make or break the coming engagement for both of them. Vistiin¡¯s move was problematic. Not only did it generally prevent him from capitalizing on the protection that the barrier usually provided, but he had no way of answering the move without burning a precious resource that he really didn¡¯t want to lose given the coming storm from both sides.


    ¡°But then again, NOT doing something that can possibly create an advantage is going to put us in a bad spot as well. So, something to create both disruption to their coming plans and something that can set us up for our next move. Heh, the game isn¡¯t called ¡®Warrior¡¯s Gambit¡¯ for nothing. Time to make a gamble!¡±


    ¡°Alrighty, then. I am burning a Command Token to move my own Arbalester into a mirroring position and striking at that one that you just moved.¡±


    ¡°Oohh. Looks like you two have finally got that miser to separate from his Tokens.¡± Kelraan remarked, chuffing with laughter in the back of the rec room with Nooraal as they watched their respective charges battle it out on the game board.


    He elbowed the Department head beside him, ¡°He¡¯s almost as tight with his resources as you are, Nooraal.¡±


    ¡°Heh, better to be tight fisted than to drop everything on the first pretty opportunity you see. Or do I need to remind you¡­¡±


    ¡°Oh look, they are rolling to resolve.¡± Kelraan interrupted Nooraal¡¯s return shot in an attempt to return focus back to the game.


    Both Furnaal and Stiirl glanced at each other with a grin, and Conrad found it hard to avoid doing the same. He knew that they had just found another story to dig out of their boss when he least expected it. Though they were currently opponents on the board, they were thick as thieves when it came to working over Kelraan for stories.


    He knew that this was in part because the old Ruulothi had an absolute treasure trove of them as a veteran spacer, and because the telling of these stories would oftentimes prevent them from doing extra make work.


    ¡°Pretty sure he knows they are working him over to stop the extra work. Also, pretty sure he doesn¡¯t care because he enjoys the story telling and attention. Oh, thank you, Lady Luck!¡±


    He let his grin come out in full force now, as he had just won the contested attack roll, taking Vistiin¡¯s Arbalester off the board and reversing the balance of power around his barrier. Both of his opponents hissed in dismay, no longer having the pieces in place to remove his control over that part of the board.


    Furnaal grinned in triumph, ¡°HaHa! The Winds blow for the Brave! Excellent!¡± He turned his grin towards his fellow engineer and spoke with a voice dripping with confidence, ¡°Your turn.¡±


    Stiirl regarded him as one would an unwanted, overexcited puppy before turning to Vistiin, ¡°I think he¡¯s getting cocky, don¡¯t you? It wasn¡¯t even his move.¡±


    ¡°Aye. Let¡¯s see who your Winds favor after the next couple of turns, yes?¡±


    Their plans now skewered, the two reptilians worked to quickly recover and reset, trying to fend off Furnaal¡¯s heavy assault on their positions while Conrad¡¯s board control kept them separated. Conrad had to admit, they worked incredibly well together and lasted far longer than he would have if the situations were reversed.


    Conrad was just starting to position his pieces to invade Vistiin¡¯s zone when Voorkar walked into the room.


    ¡°Aah, perfect. Just the crew I had hoped to find. I apologize for the discourtesy, but I am afraid the game must wait. We are now in the queue for final approach and have been ordered to take on an inspector before we are cleared. They will be here shortly. Loadmaster Nooraal, Misters McLaughlin and Vistiin, you will be needed in the cargo bay. Master Kelraan, Misters Stiirl and Furnaal, the inspector will also be stopping by the engine room as well to verify the proper running of the engines.¡±


    Voorkar¡¯s face and tone showed exactly what he thought of that, but he was professional enough to keep from saying anything. He endured the grumbling from the players and the two heads, who apparently had been doing more than just watching the game as they collected the various credit markers that had been laying between them.


    Conrad¡¯s nerves at the idea of meeting a Galactic Official started to get the better of him, so he got Voorkar¡¯s attention, ¡°Anything I need to know or do, specifically?¡±


    The XO tilted his head in thought for a moment before shaking it, ¡°No, I do not believe so. Nooraal will be there to answer any specific questions they may have, and it is¡­ poor etiquette on Ruulothi ships to ignore the Department heads and speak to their workers instead. It should just be a record and inventory verification. The two of you shouldn¡¯t need to suit up either, you are basically just there to be a visual verification of crew records.¡±


    ¡°Understood, sir.¡±


    He followed his fellow crew members out and to their stations, but something in the way that Voorkar had explained things nagged at him. Though he waited until they were in the loading bay before asking, ¡°Is people smuggling that much of an issue?¡±


    Nooraal waved his hand at the idea, ¡°Nah. Not unless they are looking for someone specific. Especially on a planet like this where any foreign criminal would stand out like Maarel Flower. This is more of a check to see if we are supplying the new folks with things they aren¡¯t supposed to have. Just be present and presentable, and everything will be just fine.¡±


    Vistiil rolled and squared his shoulders while sticking his nose in the air in a mockery of arrogance, ¡°I am always presentable. Scales always polished. You are the ones that need to tame your wild and undisciplined fur.¡±


    ¡°Oooh, is that so little glimmerscale? I¡¯ll remember that next time I brush out my undercoat. I reckon you¡¯ll wake to find yourself a fair bit fuzzier than you went to bed the night before.¡± Nooraal leaned forward as Vistiil shot him an indignant look of disgust, ¡°And I promise I won¡¯t be keeping track of just exactly where the undercoat I¡¯m stickin¡¯ to yer nose came from.¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Vistiil¡¯s look went morphed from to disgust to abject horror as Conrad busted out laughing. Nooraal tried but couldn¡¯t hold back his own laughter, eventually Vistiil joined them.


    Nooraal eventually shook himself and straightened, returning to his Loadmaster voice. ¡°Alright now, get yourselves back in order before the Official comes down here and finds us having a giggle fit. Conrad, find me those loading orders you were helping out with before. Vistiin, go down the line and verify that all the crates can be checked, and the internal views are working. It¡¯d be just our luck that the Official finds the one that¡¯s broke. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get back to our Rec and what really matters.¡±


    ¡°Betting?¡± Vistiin asked.


    ¡°It ain¡¯t betting or gambling, you smart ass. It¡¯s procuring alternate funds through risk investments. Get it straight!¡±


    Conrad and Vistiin smirked at each other before turning back to their work with a perfectly matched, ¡°Yes, Sir!¡±


    ___________________________________________________


    -Lorthaal-


    ¡°Of all the species in GalCom¡­ just WHY did this inspector have to be a damned Valkarian? Whole species has their collective heads shoved so far up GalCom¡¯s ass their damned vocal cords are being used as flutes.¡±


    The alien in question held itself with an air of import. The slim, fawn colored alien stood up to Lorthaal¡¯s shoulder. Its long fingers wrapped around a data pad that it held up to its narrow face, the red, feathered crest on the back of its head shifted up and down, splaying out before collapsing again as it read the information before it.


    He knew it was stalling to be an annoyance, but he had to simply deal with it. In his experience, all inspectors acted the same, trying to show that they were in control when going onto someone else¡¯s ship. It was a stupid game that he had no patience for but had to play all the same.


    Finally, the Inspector stepped forward on his long toes to stand in front of Loorthal, ¡°You are Captain Loorthal of the Wind Runner, yes?¡±


    ¡°More games. Of course, I am. You wouldn¡¯t be here otherwise.¡± He thought. But he bit hit retort down and responded in a deferent manner that he definitely wasn¡¯t feeling, ¡°I am. Inspector¡­?¡±


    ¡°Ah. My apologies. I am Inspector Hrooni.¡± The man gestured towards his nameplate, his twin nasal vocal cords chiming out in sync with one another, while his mouth remained shut.


    It was an odd trait of their species that Lorthaal still had difficulties wrapping his head around. The Valkarians, and some of their home world¡¯s creatures, did not share their vocal chords with their mouth structure like all other known species. Instead, their vocal cords were split between two distinct nasal passages that ran directly to a lung each from slits just in front of their feathered crests. Their mouth remained solely for eating.


    ¡°Inspector Hrooni, I will be leaving the ship under the control of my XO here, Voorkar, while we conduct the inspection. Where would you like to begin?¡±


    ¡°Unusual, but acceptable as Ruulothi custom. The cargo hold seems the best place to start for a cargo inspection, wouldn¡¯t you agree?¡±


    Lorthaal sniffed at the obvious slight, ¡°Then I shall lead the way. Security Officer Ruufarrl, would you mind following to make sure no one gets lost in our spinal corridor?¡±


    Ruufarrl nodded to him, giving an amused ear flick at the by play, ¡°It would be my pleasure, Captain.¡±


    Lorthaal in turn took no small amount of pleasure at the annoyed eye twitch the Valkarian let slip, ¡°Very well, please follow me, Inspector.¡±


    ______________________________________________________


    In the end, the only thing Lorthaal could really do was simply keep an eye on the Inspector as he made his rounds, listening to him hem and haw in his near musical vocal notes as he made sure to studiously check every box on his inspection list.


    Once done with inspecting the cargo he returned to the head of the bay, and looked the crew up and down, paying close attention to both Conrad and Vistiil.


    ¡°Hmm, a Sadiil and¡­¡± he stopped to double check his data pad, ¡°A¡­ human? Interesting.¡±


    He looked at Conrad again for a few more moments, eyes locking in on the Bloodclaw sash. His gaze was long enough that Lorthaal could sense the human getting nervous.


    ¡°A verified Bloodclaw as well¡­ Most. Interesting. It seems I am a bit out of touch with current events. I shall need to connect to the GalNet upon my return.¡± He finally turned away and looked towards Lorthaal once again.


    ¡°Now, I believe an inspection of the engine room is in order?¡±


    ¡°Aye, follow me.¡±


    Lorthaal proceeded to lead the Inspector not only to the engine room, but into the common areas as well as the bridge before the Valkarian was finally satisfied. In every area he had some sort of comment to make that seemed pointedly an attempt to irritate. His antics had held them up for several hours. Hours that Lorthaal was becoming eager to make back in some way.


    He let out a sigh of relief when the Inspector was finally off his ship, sitting back into his command chair on the bridge and waiting for the final clearance to land.


    Thankfully, the Inspector didn¡¯t seem so spiteful as to hold up the entire line of ships and the notification chimed through only a few minutes after he had left.


    He growled in relief when Woorsiin verified that they were cleared, ¡°Finally. Take us in, please. Let us be done with this venture as quickly as possible and return to our regular routes.¡±


    He thought back to the information that he had and the suspicions that he shared with the others about the timing of this event. ¡°Nothing that stands out as obvious so far. At least not in and of itself. Just typical bureaucratic nonsense and exiled inspectors throwing their weight around. Hmm. Fine, just to be safe.¡±


    ¡°Woorsiin. Stay on the scanners while we are here. If there is an odd change or anything that seems off, I want to know immediately.¡±


    ¡°¡­ Captain?¡± His Systems Specialist¡¯s question hung in the air. He knew it wasn¡¯t a question of the order itself, but rather one of clarification.


    ¡°Just general problems. That fleet by the gas giant might decide to make a move after all, and it won¡¯t take them more than a few hours to make it here. If you see or hear anything that seems like the overall situation is changing for the worse, let me know. I want to get out of here before it becomes a problem we can¡¯t get away from.¡±


    ¡°Understood sir, I will keep on the scanners. Just so you are aware, our touchdown is on the blind side of the planet at the moment, and we will be touching down around mid-morning local time. We may not be able to see and hear much for a bit.¡±


    Lorthaal snorted, ¡°Of course not.¡±


    He finally sighed and accepted the circumstances, ¡°Such is the way the winds blow.¡±


    _____________________________________________


    -Hrooni-


    He kept an eye on the data pad that he held as he returned to the station, flicking through the various screens that fed him information on the locations of ships in the general area and what each one was designated as for intent and content.


    As his shuttle finally docked he watched one in pip in particular fade around the far side of the planet. He nodded to himself and looked one final time at the security sealed docket that he had received months before. He compared the image within to his memory of the human on board the Wind Runner, though he knew he needn¡¯t have bothered. Only one human would have the audacity to wear a Bloodclaw sash.


    He pulled up a final report as he walked toward the planet side of the station, confirming that the human aid ship was still grounded, waiting on the delivery from the Wind Runner.


    A satisfied musical trill left his nose as he walked towards the ¡°back¡± of the station. ¡°One final task left to do.¡±


    He was halted by a Chirleen Security guard that chirped at him to halt, ¡°Mr. Inspector. What brings you to the Emergency Evacuation Pods?¡±


    Hrooni waved the datapad at the guard, ¡°Just here for a surprise inspection to test them for malfunctions. They are GalCom property after all, Hweet.¡±


    The guard, rather annoyingly in spite of his familiarity, proceeded to call his supervisors to verify. But he remained patient. It was doubtful that they would bother to stop him in the end.


    His patience was rewarded as the Guard nodded to him and stepped to the side, ¡°If you find any issues, please let us know immediately so that we can fix them.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I will do just that.¡±


    Hrooni stepped into the Evacuation Pod area, finding himself pleasantly alone. He went one by one to each of the pods and ran a diagnostic, before running another program for all but the last. As he stood before the final pod he ran two more commands from his pad before stowing it in its hip pouch.


    He stretched and popped his neck before taking a deep breath and stepping into the pod. He closed the hatch behind him, strapped himself into the chair next to the controls, and hit the launch button.


    As the emergency launch tone sounded and Hweet rushed into the Pod Bays to find the inspector missing and an emergency pod launched, two more things happened.


    The monitoring fleet began to move, and a device buried deep in the Station hummed to life.