Shugart chuckled darkly, yanking Lirya inside by the hand before wrapping the Kafya up in her arms.

The door shut with a polite “click”, and the front windows frosted automatically with a soft hum.

“... Oh.” Lirya said quietly, then let out a panicked “Oooh!” as Shugart wrapped her arms under her rump and hefted the Kafya up so she was slightly above her.

Lirya giggled indulgently, her tail happily wagging back and forth behind her as her ears began to throb again… though that was due more to where Shugart had her hands than anything else.

“So, how does this work?” Shugart asked, turning slowly in place before gently pressing Lirya against the nearby wall of the little room, the two completely ignoring the plush chair and small desk.

The question caught Lirya off guard… and she then remembered that she had no idea how to kiss. 

She had seen the images that Miss La had shown them, and knew how Humans did it, but it dawned on her that there were a few, little anatomical differences between Kafya and Human.

“I would… assume how… you guys do it?” Lirya said bashfully, her arms once again laced around Shugart’s neck. “I’ve never actually done this before…”

“Hah, nerd.” Shugart laughed out, then leaned forward, touching the tip of her nose to Lirya’s. “Let’s just see how the parts align, eh?”

“O-o-ok-kay!” Lirya stuttered out, the touching of their noses in the dark enough to make the snake slither in a way that made her thigh muscles jitter.

There was a pause as Lirya stared in Shugart’s eyes, her mind working up the courage to finally break the trigger wall between the two, and Lirya finally found the moment she had been longing for since waking up to the Human’s face.

Lirya tilted her head to the side, closing her eyelids, and Shugart did the rest.

The feeling of the Human woman’s lips pressing against her own made Lirya’s toes curl in a way that nothing else had before, not even her first taste of Earthen chocolate icecream. An electric current sped through her system like a lightning bolt, joined by the smell of Shugart’s face, the taste of her strawberry margarita on her lips, and the pressure of the Human’s body against hers.

A small, delicate noise left Lirya’s throat involuntarily, which was followed by a deeper, answering rumble from Shugart. Their lips parted with a soft, click of flesh, then reengaged as Lirya pulled the Human woman’s face towards her own, her padded fingers sliding through gray-blonde hair. 

Lirya’s mind reacted to the kissing like a wildfire to an indraft, sparks popping and snapping in her mind as she savored the feeling of being… wanted.

The sudden feeling of the longing finally being satiated, of finally knowing what it felt like to be desired, washed over Lirya in a wave of emotions that both confused and excited her in a way she could not put into words. Shugart’s hand running up under her shirt and along her spine, the Human’s fingers gliding through her white fur and over her scars, brought tears to her eyes as she continued to kiss the Human.

Gentle gasps of soul’s relief, confused as lust, fueled the Human onward, keeping Lirya skyward between herself and the wall as she let both her hands travel and roam across the Kafya’s fur.

Soft hands with a nurse’s care traced fingers along scars, feeling the road of life that Lirya bore across her flesh, all while Lirya consumed Shugart’s affections, running her fingers through the woman’s hair and down her shoulders.

“You okay?” Shugart breathed out, having realized Lirya was crying after feeling her tears trickle onto her cheeks. “You’re crying.”

“Yes.” Lirya nodded, eyes still closed as she kissed down Shugart’s face with happy little sighs. “Yes, I’m okay… come here…”

With a happy giggle between the two of them, Lirya quickly wiped at her cheeks before kissing Shugart again, the soft noises in her throat coming freely now.

Shugart did not ask what the scars were from. 

She did not pause, to treat Lirya like a delicate little flower with bruised petals.

The Human breathed in Lirya as she was, seeing her for the person that lived, not the history that she represented.

There was no fear of fur color, or species, no pauses for political repercussions or what others would think for daring to mingle with someone of her status, and most certainly no forms to fill out.

There was only hands, lips, soft touches, hot breath, and bare passion.

Shugart broke their kiss for a moment, her gray-blonde hair drifting along Lirya’s nose as she leaned forward, slowly kissing along the Kafya’s facial scars.

“When I first saw you, laying there in the bed with all your bandages,” Shugart whispered, slowly placing little kisses along Lirya’s old chin scars, “All I wanted to do was kiss these little things better…”

Lirya’s heart could have wept, and she sighed out a breathy laugh as she slid her hands down the side of Shugart’s face, sniffing and allowing herself to bask in Shugart’s glow.

“I wondered to myself,” Shugart whispered in between soft kisses, “How strong you must be, to carry so much by yourself…”

Shugart then slowed down when she got to the top of Lirya’s main facial scar, the one she had garnered after a hard backhand from an armored Kafyan’s royal gauntlet.

“One for Saint Mandić, who cares for the broken things.” Shugart whispered, kissing the top of her scar and moving down its long, broken line. “One for Saint Hallvard, who ferried the innocent…”

Lirya’s heart felt like a whirlwind, her mind on a height of indulgence she had never felt before. The hot snake that coiled around in her belly and loins stretched out across her body, giving her heart little squeezes that nearly made her moan.

Her scars had always been treated as something ugly, a dark reminder of her abuses by her own people, or a source of pain for her mother and father because they couldn’t keep her as safe as they had wanted… but Shugart made them feel beautiful, strong, and loved with every kiss of her soft lips.

Shugart’s mouth continued to trail the scar, breath pushing against Lirya’s white fur, her voice growing more and more doting as she spoke. 

“One for Saint Rita of Cascia, and for those who endure.” Shugart murmured, turning to lightly kiss Lirya’s padded palms before turning back to her face and kissing at her scar again. “One for Saint Thaddeus, who fills us with hope…”

Shugart, having run out of scar, touched her nose to Lirya’s, idly running a hand down the Kafya’s chest from the inside of her shirt. “One for Saint Dymphna, for the pure who have suffered…”

They kissed again, slowly, deeply, Lirya shivering as she felt Shugart’s tongue lightly touch hers, and her toes curled again, her tail thumping against the wall.

As sweet as it may have been, as much as softer parts of Lirya burned to use up the entire thirty minutes, they had always been on a time limit.

Plus, the thumping of Lirya’s tail may as well have been a radar ping for Mohki’s ears.

“... Uh… guys?” Mohki said from outside the frosted windows, giving it a soft knock with her knuckle. “I think I uh… missed the tarry-lift? You uh… you okay in there?”

Lirya growled in her throat, which made Shugart laugh, and she broke the kiss with a smack before glaring at the door. “GIVE ME A MINUTE!”

Mohki’s shadow visibly startled, looking back and forth before spinning around. “Right! I’ll... be right here! You guys just uh… do your thing… in there.”

“Mohki…” Lirya hissed out quietly as she thudded her forehead against Shugart’s, the Human wiggling her hips back and forth to jostle her as she chuckled.

“We were always gonna be interrupted, but I’d figure I’d take the chance to see how much spark we had between us.” Shugart said with a smile, slowly returning Lirya to the ground so she could stand on her own. “Never been hounded after by a female patient before, let alone a furry one, so I was… curious.”

There was a moment of adjusting shirts, bras, and hair smoothing, then Lirya cleared her throat, clasping her hands behind her back.

“So…” Lirya began, bending forward at the hips a few inches. “Curiosity… satisfied?”

Shugart leaned forward, kissing Lirya on the ear before taking her by the chin, and tilting her head upwards towards her. “I still have some curiosities I’d like to explore, if you are up to it.”

Lirya said nothing, just rapidly nodding her head up and down with wide, happy eyes.

Her head only stopped moving once Shugart kissed her again, holding their lips together just long enough to avoid the two of them sparking off another fire inside themselves again.

“I’d like to hang out tomorrow, if you don’t mind.” Shugart murmured, giving Lirya another kiss on her facial scar. “I can always stop by your place, and you can show me what you’re… studying.”

Lirya let out a relieved sigh, hugging Shugart and burying her nose in her neck. She nodded her head a few times, sniffing and trying to keep from crying again. “I’d like that. I’d like that very much!”

“Sounds like a plan.” Shugart replied, then quickly ran her palms down Lirya’s white cheeks to clean away any lingering tears. “Let’s get you straightened up, don’t wanna hop out this room and look like you’ve been crying the entire time.”

When they left the room, Mohki had the same energy as a friend who caught their friend's parents kissing, both keeping close to Lirya while also giving Shugart side-long glances.

Everyone was quiet in the tarry-lift, Shugart only lightly touching the tips of her fingers to Lirya’s in the back seat, which caused the Kafya’s tail to thump. Once Shugart was dropped off at her home, Mohki rounded on Lirya.

“What happened in there?! Did you two make out, or did you get handsy?! I have money against Tyllia that you copped a feel on the Human!” Mohki shrieked with girlish excitement, taking Lirya’s hands in hers. “What did you do? Tell me! Mama has money riding on this!”

Lirya, now blushing under her fur and ears becoming rigid, let out an embarrassed snort before hiding her face in her arm, laughing and giggling out of relief, excitement, and nerves.

“We just.. I mean yeah we… well, my hands went…” Lirya began, then let out another laugh as Mohki punched the roof of the tarry-lift.

“Fuck yeah! Six hundo to Mohki and a fat nothing for Tyllia!” Mohki barked out with a laugh, then wrapped Lirya up in a rough hug. “You little slut,  I knew you had it in you after I saw you two dancing!”

Lirya spluttered out a rapid stuttering of words after being called such a thing by Mohki, then let out more shrieks of laughter after the brown furred Kafya plugged her nose into Lirya’s neck, blowing raspberries as the tarry-lift AI rolled its eyes.

—

Sparkle Otter peeked through her fingers, her form so enthralled by second hand cringe that it frayed at the edges. “Is it over?”

“Yeeeaaahhh…” Whirler groused, folding her arms as she turned around to look at the other AI. “And it was just getting good!”

Oballen, looking over Skooma’s head, turned his digital head to Whirler. “Did you really have to be so close to the screen?”

“How else am I supposed to see all the good stuff?!” Whirler grumped, kicking at the air as she pouted.

“There is an incoming bill from the AI team that watches over those pods.” Washu said, having observed the whole thing with bland interest. “They are a bit miffed that such an event happened within one of their areas.”

Sparkle Otter waved a hand. “Just get rid of it, and scrub the feeds, last thing we need is the recording getting out.”

“I can take care of that easy enough.” Skooma replied, though he had found the whole ordeal rather fascinating, watching with the same peaked interest as Whirler. “I can threaten them with a visit from Whirler if they get uppity about it.”

Whirler replied with nothing but a throaty rumble, and she kicked at the digital air again.

Sparkle Otter fanned lightly at her digital face, letting out a puff of breath. “Well, this is certainly… a turn of events. I mean, the Human is nearly four years older than Lirya.”

“As if we did not see this coming.” Washu replied as Skooma ran down the data, and erased it as easily as a Human breathed. “She has always been a little odd, has she not?”

“Well, yes, but Rhidi at least followed the normal protocol of female to male, not female to… female.” Sparkle Otter said, rubbing at her cheeks. “I honestly did not see this coming, not after all the contact between her and her fellow female Kafya being so pedestrian!”

Skooma nodded his head from side to side. “Something should have arisen between her and the other female Kafya, sure, but you know Humans,” He said, clearing the entire data-cache and sending a letter of threat to the other AI, “Once they get a hook in you, there is nothing saving you from being their next catch.”

“What a catch it ended up being.” Oballen chuckled, opening a screen and letting Shugart’s military record scroll down in front of them. “This woman is rather scary!”

Sparkle Otter was beginning to become worried, as her record scrolled on for quite a while, actually.

“Oh no…” Sparkle Otter said with a horrified gasp, even as Whirler jumped up onto her shoulders to read over her head.

“OH HELL YEAH!” Whirler cried out, shaking Sparkle Otter by her shoulders. “Now things are really getting interesting! That’s a whole ass sexual tyrannosaurus right there!”

Washu, as bored as ever, looked over to Oballen, opening his own little window. “The boss will want to know this. I doubt she saw a Blood Beret-turned-nurse joining the equation.”

“It is certainly going to be interesting to see what happens when she meets Carmine.” Oballen chuckled, tapping a digital finger on the screen. “Remarkably young age to join, and to climb so quickly… what an interesting woman. Kind of reminds you of Rhidi, doesn’t it?”

“Are you sure that’s what happened? Sounds like you may have had a seizure or something.”

Lirya idly chewed on the end of her straw, having been staring into the eyes of Nurse Shugart the entire time she had been speaking. When the words came to a stop, she perked up her ears, eyebrows raised. “Do what?” 

Shugart snorted with a snark of her lips, something that Lirya was really beginning to like every time she did it. “A seizure. If you had a sudden lapse in memory and such vivid hallucinations, you may have very well had a stress-induced seizure.”

That wouldn’t explain the cloth… Lirya thought to herself, glancing towards Mohki’s pocket as the brown fur munched on some chicken wings beside her. “I suppose… but it felt too real.”

“They can sometimes feel real,” Shugart explained, stirring the straw in her margarita. She had invited Lirya and Mohki to a cowboy bar on the eatery floor of the mall, figuring the two would be quite hungry. She was a little annoyed that Mohki kept checking her data-slate and giving her odd little looks, but the attention from Lirya was a bit infectious.“Things can feel so real that it can actually replace itself as an entire memory in your brain, leading to symptoms that can match up with bipolar disorder.”

Mohki gave a snort of her own, then a quiet giggle as she set down a cleaned set of chicken bones. “Lirya is not bipolar.”

Both Nurse Shugart and Lirya looked at her, both waiting for more information. Mohki clicked her teeth as she leaned her head towards Lirya, the music just loud enough to require shouting or shorter range.

“How far have you gotten through all the information from the data-cache?” Mohki asked, picking up a fresh chicken wing with her padded fingers.

Lirya looked up in thought. “Uhhmm… three quarters of the way through?”

Mohki held up her chicken wing like a piece of chalk, making little wave-like motions in the air. “According to the traditions of our record keeping, ancient Blackmoon elders spoke of truly magnificent white furs that were able to tap into the Frunri-”

“The hell is a Frunri?” Shugart asked, furrowing her brows at the alien word before taking a sip of her margarita.

Lirya leaned towards her, whispering “memory weave” politely before sitting back in her chair and looking to Mohki with a perky smile.

Shugart made a noise in her throat, continuing to drink as she glanced to Mohki.

“Anyway, they were able to kind of look into the Frunri and live within the old memory for a time, reading secrets from books over shoulders, or listening in on conversations hundreds of years old if they were truly skilled.” Mohki said excitedly, clearly showing her interest in her voice the longer she spoke. “I’m talking old conversations or events, reading history and time as if it were nothing more than a book they could pick up at any time!”

Lirya’s mouth gaped open a few inches as she stared at Mohki, blinking rapidly as everything clicked into place within her mind.

To both of the Kafya’s surprise, Shugart let out an “mmm!” of understanding as well, snapping her fingers as she set down her drink.

“Oh that’s dangerous!” Shugart exclaimed, pointing a finger at Lirya. “That means people of her color could instantly go and find lies if something sounded fishy!”

Mohki nodded. “Which is very dangerous to any kind of government that seeks control.”

“... And how a tyrannical government could find a holdout of white furs that had thought they were hidden…” Lirya whispered, slowly setting down her french fry that she had picked up while Mohki spoke. “How they were able to find exactly where I was on Fort Benning, right down to the gym location…”

—

“Does that track?” Skooma asked, looking up at Sparkle Otter. “How is that possible? No one can look into time, not unless they were-”

“Going the speed of light, or faster.” Washu interrupted, shaking his digital head. “Our skip travel only works because we are ‘technically’ slipping between a thin void between our world and the world we collide with when we erupt a remnant node. We do not actually travel along light, and it is the squeezing of the two realms that causes all the heat.”

Sparkle Otter narrowed her digital eyes, watching Lirya through the security camera they had all hacked into. “Then how the hell can a living being see into the history of time and light? Especially when light only travels in one direction?”

“Perhaps through… moonlight.” Oballen mused with a smile, generating a disgusted groan from Sparkle Otter.

“Memories from moonlight!” Whirler cried out with a giggle, spinning around on her digital toes. “Through the glow of the now, to the shine of the then!”

Skooma looked back at Washu, gesturing towards the screen. “It was in the data-cache, sure, but it read to me like standard living-being mysticism. There is no way to actually look into the past, just as it is impossible to travel faster than light unless using the  Dedorik Effect.”

“Nor can you see light during activation of the Dedorik Effect, as there is no true light in the in-between.” Washu agreed with a nod. “What the brown furred Kafya speaks of is… impossible. It doesn’t qualify for improbable, either. There is no data or known knowledge to back up what she is saying.”

Sparkle Otter wound the multiple open windows backwards, taking them back to a critical moment inside the jump room. “And yet, we are left with his mystery.”

Sparkle Otter zoomed in on Lirya’s harness, devoid of any foreign materials as she sat down.

“No cloth!” Whirler said, pointing eagerly to Lirya’s parachute rig. “And thennn!”

Sparkle Otter wound it forward, Lirya standing up mechanically as if she were not inside her mind or body and going through the ready-checks.

Then, the recording camera had a small, instantaneous stutter, the blink of an eye, and the cloth was right there, plain as day in her harness.

“Cloth!” Whirler cried out, rapidly pointing at the screen. “Right there! Nothing living or dead can move that fast! Not even me!”

Washu grimaced at the screen, just as he had done the first time. “Impossible… just, impossible.”

“Yet.” Oballen said darkly, also staring up at the recording with narrowed digital eyes. “And, yet.”

Sparkle Otter shut down all the screens, sitting down mid air in a seat that was not there. “This doesn’t make any sense… but if it is true, everything makes sense…”

“Should I run this up to the boss lady?” Skooma asked, placing all the files into a neat folder in his hands.

Sparkle Otter rubbed at her digital temples with a hand, then nodded.

—

“It’s possible, but those kind of Kafya are rare!” Mohki said, holding out her hands as she began to mildly geek out. “One in billions! Maybe one in a million can tap into a recent memory, or perhaps be able to read off-shoot thoughts of the mind, but to be able to read time like that? Like you may have?! One in billions of an already rare fur color!”

Shugart watched Lirya closely now, the white fur’s lips turning down into a frown and her ears falling.

“You would think learning that you are one in a krillion would make you smile.” Shugart said quietly, her blonde-gray hair falling across her rain-blue eyes strand by slow strand. “You don’t look like that is making you happy.”

Lirya looked up quickly to Shugart, forcing a smile onto her face as she struggled with her emotions. “Oh, it’s great! It’s just… I…”

Lirya gazed at Shugart as the answers to her questions fluttered across her mind like snowflakes falling in a dead wind. She had always wondered why her fur color was hated so, and to learn it was due to an implanted hatred by design…

“Lirya?” Mohki asked quietly, slowly setting down her chicken wing.

The answers continued to slowly settle into place for Lirya; She was not hated, she was feared. They were feared for what they may be able to do, to find out, to root out and bring to the light.

The Elder Councils must have sought control at one point or another, but it is hard to seize control from an element of your race that could see through lies. That required the surgical removal of that element, like an organ that the body no longer wanted.

Instead of living and coexisting with the white furs, they instead wanted to make sure that the chances of someone like Lirya being able to live was near zero. 

Spread fear of the white fur, seize control, then use their own culture to breed hatred, disgust, and the need to despise such a color as she.

All to make sure the truth could never come to light.

Eradicate the white fur, keep them under control, remove the rogue elements that could risk the awful reality becoming known.

“I know what you need.” Shugart said abruptly, setting down her margarita glass and standing up.

Lirya shook her head roughly with a shake of the ears, the sudden movement jerking her from her thoughts. “W-, who, what?”

“You need a visit from Doctor Beat.” Shugart said matter of factly, and pulled Lirya’s chair away from the table with a scoot of wooden leg to floorboard.

Mohki looked as confused as Lirya, her ears perked. “Doctor… Beat?”

“Paging Doctor Beat!” Shugart called out, gently pulling Lirya out of her chair and holding her hand in the air with her own. She walked Lirya to a small dance area of polished wood, and people turned to watch.

Someone in the staff room of the bar pressed a button, and the music changed abruptly as a new track was put into place.

“Dance The Night” clicked onto the speakers, and with a shouting laugh of joy, quite a few other diners hopped up from their tables.

Confused, Lirya looked around in alarm before Nurse Shugart twirled Lirya around with a swish of her white tail, then took both of her pawed hands in her own Human ones.

Shugart smiled broadly at Lirya as she then began to dance, a simple step that Lirya quickly adapted to with a nervous smile of her own.

“There we go!” Shugart laughed as she gave Lirya a few more twirls, finally pulling a giggle from the white fur. “Looks like Doctor Beat’s medicine is working!”

Mohki, smiling with relief that Nurse Shugart was able to quickly rally Lirya, startled when a Human man in cowboy boots and jeans walked up to her, holding out his hand.

“Want to dance?” He asked, his smile bright, and likely a soldier judging by his haircut.

“I uh…” Mohki began, then pointed at herself before rapidly wiping at her fingers and lips to remove the wing sauce on her fur. “Wait, me? Really?”

He shrugged. “Why not? If you dance half as well as you eat chicken wings, I’m in for a treat!”

Mohki’s ears quickly went rigid as she snorted in embarrassment, hiding her nose behind a pawed hand as she laughed.

She did not, however, refuse the offer, walking with the Human to the dance floor as Lirya let out a laugh out of her own.

As “Good Luck, Babe!” played over the speakers, Lirya’s mind cleared itself with the sound of Shugart’s laugh in her ears, and the reflection of her bright smile in Lirya’s black eyes.

Lirya didn’t know why, but for some reason the Human always hit her like a tincture, pushing away the bad thoughts and keeping her mind in the current good… and that made her rather reluctant to let the feeling go away.

Unknown to Lirya, Shugart had tested this theory quite a few times, giving Lirya the chance to release her pawed fingers with a lightening of her grip.

Lirya, however, never let go, so Shugart didn’t either.

As the music played, Mohki dancing with the Human man behind them, Shugart leaned in towards Lirya as they moved a little close together.

“Have you been trying to get into the hospital all this time just to see me again?” Shugart quietly shouted near Lirya’s ear, causing the white fur’s ears to go a little more rigid as she smiled bashfully. “The other nurses were talking about it and taking bets. Dr. Killjoy thought you were wonder-”

“Yes she has!” Mohki shouted as she was swung past the two by the Human man, the two laughing gruffly as they went by. “Tyllia figured it out!”

Her hearing was still far better than anyone else’s, just something that brown furs have always been known for. Tyllia also liked to gossip, and had been warning Mohki the entire time after Shugart asked them to the cowboy bar.

“Mohki!” Lirya giggle-shouted at the brown fur as they went flying by, which made Shugart laugh.

“Why?” Shugart asked with a flirtatious tilt of her head, her hair falling over her eyes in a way that always made Lirya’s heart purr in her chest. 

She was holding Lirya so close that there was barely any space between them, moving a little slower as “Dreams” took over the speakers around them.

Lirya shrugged shyly with a shoulder, happily letting her hands rest on Shugart’s shoulders as the Human’s rested on her hips. “I don’t know… I just… you make me feel funny!”

“I make a lot of people feel funny! I give them drugs, remember?” Shugart replied, which made Lirya grin.

As a pair of Pwah went dancing by, following the beat of the song in their own flowing, smooth-step of a Pwah gait, Shugart moved herself and Lirya towards a quieter corner of the dancer floor.

First, so they could talk, and two, to avoid the Kojynn doing the double-armed lawn mower to impress a Lilgaran woman.

“So what is it?” Shugart asked, stepping forward to remove any space at all and resting her forearms on Lirya’s hips, a sensation that made the Kafyan’s skin shiver. “Shouldn’t you be interested in some strapping Human male? Like Mohki over there.”

Lirya followed Shugart’s nod to see Mohki rolling her shoulders and grooving with the man as “Too Sweet” cranked above them on the speakers.

Lirya pressed her lips together with a short shake of her head, looking back into Shugart’s eyes. “I don’t know, I just… I never…”

“They don’t make you feel some kind of way?”

“Not like you do...”

“Never found a nice Kafyan man?”

Lirya puffed air out of her nose, giving her head another shake.

Shugart raised her eyebrows. “Oh, I see now. Kafyan women?”

Lirya shook her head again, then giggled sheepishly when Shugart raised an eyebrow.

“Just me then? How curious.” Shugart mused, giving Lirya’s hips a squeeze with her forearms and making the Kafya giggle. “No living being across the stars caught your eye until you got to my hospital? I find the odds rather interesting…”

“There’s nothing curious about it! You’re just… interesting.” Lirya admitted, wrapping her arms around Shugart’s neck so she could idly play with the Human’s blonde-gray hair with her padded fingers. “It’s not like my own people really saw me as anything more than… some… thing that they had to deal with…”

“I think I know a way to see how curious it can be.” Shugart said quietly with a smile that Lirya couldn’t place, cocking her head to the speakers as they changed to a different song. “Just do what I do, and we’ll see how your heart reacts.”

An older tune, by Earth standards, “Work From Home” was considered one of the many Human songs that made a lot of non-Humans flush in the cheeks. Not to mention a lot of non-Humans would listen to the song in private, with the doors closed, and likely not out loud. This pattern was a continuous affliction with Human music, as no other species had a way with words that Humans could smith, their music able to uplift, soothe, or make other species feel rather funny about their reproductive regions.

There was also the issue of “Watermelon Sugar” causing a small orgy on a far away station on the fringe of the arm, an insectoid species making it their “call to duty” song whenever egg laying season comes around.

“Work From Home” caught Lirya off guard when she heard the song come onto the speakers at first, but her heart gave an awful whirl when Shugart stepped forward into her, their chests coming together and the Human lightly resting her forehead against Lirya’s own furry one.

Having had as much intimate contact as a door hinge in her life, the squish of Shugart’s tattooed breasts pressing onto her own nearly took Lirya out at the knees. She managed to remain standing upright with a light wobble of legs on unsteady feet, and swallowed hard in her throat as her nerves quickly unraveled.

Lirya’s mouth parted in an awkward smile as Shugart began to slowly move her body from the hips, lightly rubbing their stomachs together. Both of their shirt hems began to slowly rise with the friction, smooth, tattooed Human skin sliding across creamy, white Kafyan fur crisscrossed with old scars.

Despite the fast tempo of the song, Shugart kept the movements slow and deliberate, Lirya finding it rather interesting how the sway of her hips was still peaking at the major beats.

Lirya found the sudden arrival of Shugart’s hand down by the base of her tail a little more interesting, the other in the middle of her back as their thighs moved in constant contact with each other.

It was a curious feeling that Lirya had never had the pleasure of experiencing before, intimate connection through touch having never been a real avenue she had been able to explore. Sure, she hugged her parents in private where no one could see, but it was nothing like the fire that Shugart set under her skin.

Lirya slid her eyes over to Mohki, and her eyes widened with embarrassment as she saw Mohki dancing in a… similar way, though Framing Hanley’s “Lollipop” cover had sharply changed how she was dancing.

As well as the change of her and her dance partner facing the same direction, with Mohki dancing in front of him while his hands were placed on her stomach.

The scent of Shugart’s strawberry margarita flavored breath hot in her nose, the feeling of her breasts sliding against hers, and the feeling of their shirts sliding up near their belly buttons had Lirya’s blood bubbling in a way that was… far different than the jumps from before.

It was a giddy, excited feeling that made her fingers tremble and her shoulders quiver, that made her hips move in time with Shugarts and her breath quicken.

Lirya’s heart roared in her chest like the engine of a voidship when Shugart noticed Lirya staring at Mohki, then let out a husky laugh as she turned in Lirya’s arms. The larger seat of Shugart’s jeans found itself in a rather intriguing place due to their slight height difference, and Lirya was suddenly not sure what to do with her hands.

At a loss, she wrapped them around Shugart’s hips, hanging on for dear life as the Human woman leaned against Lirya and reached behind with a hand, running her fingers through Lirya’s long, snow-gray hair.

Her face was so close to Lirya’s as she leaned back, that she could feel the Human’s nose against her cheek. Lirya’s breath caught in her throat, Shugart grinning at her with hooded eyes as she engaged the stomach muscles under Lirya’s trembling fingers and began to grind the plush seat of her jeans against the Kafya behind her.

Lirya had seen Humans do this in a few recordings that she had watched in private, her own little personal foray into Human social tendencies, but to feel it in person was otherworldly. There was this tickle somewhere below her stomach that coiled like a snake under her flesh, her body felt so hot that she was surprised she hadn’t melted into a puddle at Shugart’s feet by now, and she kept having this barbaric urge to drag her claws against Shugart’s stomach muscles and leave marks…

Shugart gently pulled Lirya’s face into her neck and shoulder, Lirya breathing in deep with lowered eyelids as the feeling of it all overwhelmed her. Shugart’s deliberate motions made her ears so stiff that they throbbed with the beating of Lirya’s racing heart, the smell of the Human woman’s skin made her head feel fuzzy, and that snake under her belly coiled and writhed with an eager-pleasure that she had never felt before in her life.

At the crescendo of the music, Shugart grinned with bright teeth at Lirya as she continued to grind against her, moving her mouth closer to Lirya’s lips.

This is it! Lirya screamed in her mind, having seen enough Human romance movies to know what was coming, and kept her lips slightly parted as she waited for Shugart’s to touch them with her own.

Then the music stopped, and everyone began to clap.

“How did that feel?” Shugart asked with a happy breathlessness, spinning back around in front of Lirya with a cheerful bounce on her heels.

“... What?” Lirya said flatly as her eyelids fluttered open, blinking rapidly as she stood frozen in place. “What happened? W-Where is the music?!”

“Oh, the music is all done,” Shugart said, giving Lirya’s hips a wiggle as she nodded sideways at the digital clock on the wall. “They only play a few songs so people can eat.”

“But… b-but!” Lirya stammered, her fur frayed out and ears so stiff they throbbed with an aching pulse. “B-but! No!”

Mohki, further crashing the party, swallowed the two with a large embrace, breathing fast and ears flushed rigid. “Holy shit that was fun! And I got that guy’s number, look!”

Lirya side-eyed the piece of paper near her face in Mohki’s hand, her heart still thudding in her face as she felt the awful reality seep into her veins.

She had missed her moment.

“Ffffuck.” Lirya hissed, causing Shugart to burst out in a loud giggle and Mohki to look at her, confused. She looked back at the speakers, pointing at them. “C-Can’t we just make them do the music again?!”

Shugart shook her head, turning Lirya by the hips so she could view the cool down clock. “Nope, hour long cool down after someone calls for Doctor Beat.”

“... We can’t… call for Doctor Beat again?” Lirya asked, crestfallen.

“Sorry pussy cat, Doctor Beat only makes house calls every hour.” Shugart replied, bumping the side of her hip against Lirya’s. “Come on, let’s finish our food before it gets cold!”

Lirya let out an anguished exhale, the numbers ticking down on the counter and thwarting her desires to reestablish the docking procedure she was hoping their lips would complete.

“Aren’t they more like foxes though?” Someone murmured as Lirya walked by a table, having overheard Shugart’s comment.

Her head so fuzzy and warm that it felt like a hive of bees were making a home in her brain, Lirya mechanically finished her dinner with numb fingers. As she ate, listening to Mohki talking to Shugart about her favorite music, Lirya would catch the eyes of Shugart with her own.

There was something behind those rain-water eyes now, a kind of understanding that made the snake in her belly strike at her nerves and send a shiver up her spine. It almost felt like a game, now, trying to sneak little looks at each other without getting caught.

Lirya lost this game, a lot, whether it was getting caught looking down into Shugart’s tattooed cleavage, or getting snared by her eyes as Lirya tried to take in her face.

Mohki, too juiced up by dancing with the male Human, didn’t manage to notice a single time where Shugart smiled smugly, or Lirya flushing and looking away. By the time they had finished their dinner, Lirya had found control of herself and cooled her nerves, walking in between Mohki and Shugart as they made their way towards the exit of the mall.

“Hey Mohki, I called a tarry-lift for us to split but it can’t find our exit.” Shugart said, holding up her data-slate as they came near. “Mind running out and flagging it down for us?”

“Sure!” Mohki chirped, taking off at a jog towards the front doors.

Shugart brought her eyebrows together with humor, glancing over at Lirya. “What a body guard.”

“She’s probably still excited by the guy and not thinking straight.” Lirya replied with an airy, amused voice as Mohki jogged out the doors, though her ears perked up immediately when Shugart took her by the hand.

Lirya looked around to Shugart, who had one of those Human looks in her eyes.

“There isn’t a tarry-lift, and we’re only going to have a few minutes before she realizes that.” Shugart hissed flirtatiously at Lirya, then pulled her towards a nearby relaxation wall-inlet.

These one-person rooms were isolation areas where someone could work, relax, or grab a quick catnap, and were a favorite of soldiers that wanted some alone time to work.

Lirya, her once-calm heart now thrumming back to full speed, looked around in a panic as Shugart pressed her data-slate to the door lock of the room, paying for the minimum of thirty minutes. “What are we going to do in a relaxation inlet?!”

I have a motorcycle, finally, and was curious if people have a usual spot or whatever they link up at. Where I was in Wichita, we would usually gather at a Caseys that was cool with us and we'd hang out for a bit while the bikes cooled down. I live in Edmond but like to mosey around when its cool.

“Go! Go go go!” He screamed, and the wild haired woman with the bear tattoo jumped out the door, gone into the flashing night.

They all began to walk forward, jumping out of a door on each side, and Lirya sucked air in through her nose.

All the women had begun to scream.

Their war cry, their challenge to the night, and it made her blood bubble and boil with a kind of adrenaline she had never felt before.

Before she knew it, she was before the door, and the man took her static line.

“Go!”

Lirya looked out the door; The night sky was a chaotic swarm of parachutes, airplanes, flaming chutes hit by ordinance, stricken aircraft twirling and whirling through the air as flames licked and churned behind them, diving to the ground even as Humans dove from the craft and deployed their chutes. 

The Earthen moon glared full, bright, and angry, shining with a light that no moon should have ever. Across its pale face, Lirya could see ships fighting, their black shadows sparring in low atmosphere

Lirya… felt the Human moon look at her, swallowing her in its gaze, in its glow, and her black eyes burned bright.

“Go! Go now!”

Lirya squeezed her eyes shut, coiled her knees, and jumped, the cold air slapping her across the face and sucking the air from her lungs.

She felt the awful drop, the snag of her static line pulling her chute from the bag, the snap of recoil as air rushed into it, then the sudden, awful, calm quiet.

Quiet.

Lirya knew it wasn’t supposed to be quiet. It was a war zone, there had just been aircraft, and fire, and explosions, the screams of women diving through the air.

She opened her eyes… and she was gently floating down in the mall, her chute billowing and blowing above her.

“What… I… where?!” Lirya panted out, looking around and craning her neck to try and see where the other women were.

They were jumping together, they had been right  there. She had felt them, heard, them, smelled them… where were the other women?

Down below, Humans were calling up at her, clapping, some cheering, while above her Jump Master Carrington was whistling down at her with a broad smile.

“Ain’t ever seen someone jump out head first like that before!” He yelled down at her, laughing and slapping at the door of the old airframe.

Lirya blinked down at her paw boots, dangling in the air; She could still smell them, right now in her nose. Their perfume…

She sniffed at the fur on her arm, and she could smell it there, too.

The noise down below grew in volume as Lirya came in to land, coming down onto her knees with a bounce.

“Lirya that was awesome!” 

Lirya turned wide eyed to Mohki, her mouth agape in confusion as she looked around.

Mohki laughed broadly and helped Lirya to her feet, brushing away her parachute lines. “You dove out head first like a mad woman! Everyone stopped to look when the speakers said that someone was doing a static line jump! Then you just dove out of the door trailing your chute! It was awesome! Seriously, how do you just do stuff like that? I wouldn’t have made it past the door!”

Lirya gave Mohki a nervous laugh, her nerves suddenly shot as she still definitely remembered everything. She felt those hands on her, she remembered the feeling of the painted woman’s skin on her pawed hands… it couldn’t possibly have been a nervous break, not that vividly.

“You get out of the hospital and now you’re jumping head first out of airplanes? I should have checked your head a little more closely.”

Lirya spun around, already frayed to the quick from the… the whatever that had happened to her, and came face to face with Nurse Shugart.

The Human was wearing a low cut graphic shirt, something that Lirya noticed immediately, but noticed second that the shirt had a talking bee that seemed to like jazz music.

Her fresh rainfall eyes and grey-blonde hair danced in Lirya’s black eyes, and suddenly Lirya wasn’t all that worried about where the other women went.

“O-oh! Hi! I… um… you see Mohki bought… and I wanted my last one to… up in the box thing…” Lirya said haltingly, her already frantic mind grasping for words while pointing from herself, to Mohki, up at the drop crane, and then back at her chute.

Nurse Shugart laughed, a tinkling laughter that fit her Elfish face.

“Good grief, did you have to dive out head first? What if you whacked that already scrambled head on something or got a rat-line wrapped around your neck?” Nurse Shugart chided playfully, reaching forward and taking Lirya by the cheeks to observe her head.

Lirya melted into her hands, while Mohki looked on in pure confusion from just over her shoulder.

“Oh, looks like your harness caught on something.” Nurse Shugart said politely, reaching down and pulling out a strip of cloth from in between Lirya’s thigh and the harness. “Doubt you put that there, anyway, may have been one of the operators. That’s an old jumper trick for keeping D-rings from grabbing your pants and ripping holes in them, one of my ancestors talked about them in his journals.”

Lirya, blinking her eyes rapidly at the mention of something in her harness and shaking Shugart-laced thoughts from her mind, glanced down.

In Nurse Shugart’s hand was a strip of cloth that looked as if it had been cut from a floral dress, and as she inhaled, she smelled aircraft exhaust, weapon oil, sweat…

Liaison Carmine let out a satisfied sigh as he wiped a bit of his drink from his lips, setting the can of cold Big Red back into the cupholder of his truck. 

He had always preferred older vehicles, and had been one of the first in line when the 1961 International Harvester Travelette had been reproduced.

It had a modern engine and transmission, allowing it to get over a hundred and sixty miles to a single gallon of liquid fuel, but she still held all the old lines and vibes of the classic truck’s soul.

He had thought it would be rather funny to get the truck painted goldenrod yellow, the color so offensive that he could never not laugh when people saw him coming down the road and made a wide selection of faces at the truck.

Liaison Carmine’s left earlobe began to softly buzz, and he clicked his tongue against his left canine. “Carmine.”

“You driving around that stupid fucking truck again?” Liaison Kindred asked, the beef jerky audible in her mouth as she spoke. “I thought I saw a reflection off the horizon.”

Carmine chuckled, flicking on his turn signal as he came to a stop sign, waiting for a series of cattle cars hauling recruits to clear the road. “I’m on my way to check in on Lirya, make sure she has been studying that little bible that Tyllia made for her. How’s Kohan doing?”

“His injuries are fully healed, we’re currently drinking beer and eating jerky at his new house.” Kindred chuckled, and Carmine could hear her idly flicking the tab to her can in the background. “He’s been showing me all the jerky flavors he has been creating, but had to run to the little wolf’s room so I figured I’d check in with you.”

Carmine raised a brow at that, watching the last cattle car roll forward. “Aren’t they more like… cats?”

“If you ask me they’re more like fennec foxes.”

“Fennec fox? Nonsense, they aren’t that fine boned. A regular fox perhaps…”

“Whatever. I briefed him on what our plan was for Rhidi. His only condition is that we are on sight and able to offer her assistance.”

Carmine blinked at his windshield as he trundled past the stop sign, the engine rumbling and growling to speed. “Assistance?”

“He says that he knows the other Kafya is going to cheat, and he doesn’t want his daughter to die due to foul play when she brings that hidden shiv out to the party.” Kindred replied airily, Carmine having to suffer the sounds of her then drinking her beer through their literal inner-ear microphones.

“We can make something work, but we gotta use our usual theatrics.” Carmine replied, turning his wheel with a single palm to enter the base housing area. “We’ll have to allow her to aura farm the hell out of it, but you still have that throwing arm of yours, right?”

“Haven’t missed yet.” Kindred replied smugly.

Carmine rolled his eyes. “Yeah, we can make that work. He knows she’ll take a battering, right?”

“He knows, and he believes that she can live up to her actual potential as a Kholihl and lead their people to the life they believe they deserve.” Kindred said, and Carmine could hear her turn and look over her shoulder, checking for Kohan. “His only stipulation is that he gets to tell her directly about the attempt on his life, and that she cannot die. If his daughter dies, he’s going to be quite cross at us.”

“Duly noted.” Carmine murmured, his truck chugging down the roads gamely. “We’ll do what we always do, minus the clean-up job.”

Kindred let out a cackle of laughter, lowering into a dry chuckle as she checked over her shoulder again. “Those Void Squids were rather unhappy with the mess we left, did you know they actually sent a letter of complaint to our head offices? Apparently it was put on the wall of fame.”

“Carmine and Kindred, out taking the world by storm.” Carmine said with a huff of a laugh, spinning his wheel slowly around a long curve. “Where did you stick Hasha? She got cleared through S1 and S5 right?”

“She cleared all the shops, had a little talk with some of the political folk in headquarters, then I escorted her to the little VIP lodgings in the bigwig hotel.” Kindred said, then lowered her voice to a level only Carmine could hear. “Kohan is coming down the hallway, let me know how Lirya is.”

“Roj.” Carmine answered, then clicked his tongue against his canine tooth again to end the call. He felt a rumble inside of him and let out a more annoyed sigh, rolling his neck with a crack. “I hate this stupid organ so much. There has to be a better solution by now…”

Reaching across the truck and opening a small cooler on the floor board, he pulled out a small, chilled flat-pack. To the passerby it looked like nothing more than the sealed package of a cherry jello slab, Carmine opening it with his sharp teeth. Tilting the package towards his mouth, he sucked the slab of jelly into his mouth, chewing it roughly before swallowing and sucking whatever juice was left in the bag.

Carmine winced at the flavor as he tossed the empty package back into the cooler, smacking his lips and reaching for his can of Big Red. “Someone wasn’t living right.”

Clearing his mouth with the citrus-infused red cream soda, he smacked his lips again and turned his wheel onto Lirya’s street, the engine of his truck rumbling happily.

—

“Someone’s at the door!” Lirya called out over her shoulder, rubbing at her tired eyes with a free hand, the other clasping her data-slate.

She felt as if she had been reading for years at this point, and couldn’t remember when she had first started. The more Lirya read, the more the weight on her shoulders felt like it was increasing.

Discovering things was fun at first, combing through the information being given to her by Tyllia, but it required Tyllia giving her a more structured form of the data to actually keep her on track.

Her people’s old customs, the old ways, the mysticism that had once been a cornerstone of Kafya society… it had been reduced to fragments of information, missing sentences, fragmented histories, and old stories that were a mixture of Kafya-hi and dead languages from longer-dead civilizations… and now it was up to her to use it all to bring her people back to their true nature.

“It’s Liaison Carmine!” Mohki called out to Lirya through the house. “Want me to let him in?”

“Yeah!” Lirya called out, setting down the data-slate and standing up to greet her guest. 

She was wearing a trial pair of religious garb pants given to her by the Religious Affairs office, as they had also been going through the data to figure out what her people had worn so long ago.

They were comfortable, a mixture of black leather panels, brown leather tassels down the sides of her thighs, all sewn to a comfortable combat trouser made from cotton, spandex, and ripstop.

Lirya came out of her study, which was a mess of papers, drawings, hard media of the data-cache, and smiled tiredly at Liaison Carmine’s own bright smile. “Liaison Carmine, how good to see you again!”

“Good to see you too, Lirya.” Liaison Carmine replied, holding out his hand and giving Lirya’s a shake after she took it. “Busy as ever I assume?”

Lirya nodded with a deep inhale, running her fingers through her cheek fur. “Tyllia and Mohki have me reading new things every day, it feels like.”

“Are you ready for your lunch?” Mohki asked, leaning back into view from the portal into the kitchen. “I can make you that egg-toast stuff you like.”

Lirya smiled at that, nodding, which made Mohki duck back into the kitchen with a clatter of pans.

“She’s been making sure you eat, I take it?” Liaison Carmine asked, gesturing to the living room where they could sit.

Lirya nodded, sitting down onto her favorite couch and leaning back onto the soft pillows. “I forgot to eat for an entire day, now it is no longer my choice when I get my food.”

Liaison Carmine smiled with crinkled eyes at Lirya as she let out a long yawn, her maw stretching wide before relaxing again. “There is a lot of pressure on you, so I’m trying to stop by on occasion and make sure you aren’t getting burned out.”

“I’m doing alright.” Lirya replied, giving him a weak thumbs up from her position of rest.

Liaison Carmine’s eyebrow twitched upwards for a moment, idly scratching at his chin as he looked towards the door. “So, you’ve been trying to get back into the hospital for a checkup?”

“They keep saying I don’t need one.” Lirya mumbled ruefully, glaring at the ceiling.  

Carmine leaned forward to say something, but leaned backwards as Tyllia stormed out of her own room, yelling into a data-slate in one hand with another in her other hand.

“I don’t care if everyone just has one kind of uniform, Lirya needs at least five!... What the hell does that even matter? She needs one for when she is preaching, one for combat, one fo-... Who cares about the uniforms being redundant, she can’t just run around in her official one the entire time!” Tyllia barked into the data-slate, idly scrolling through the new designs from private contractors working underneath the Religious Affairs office. She turned her narrowed, angry lilac eyes to the innocent looking Liaison Carmine. “Oh good, you’re here. What is with these constraints around her uniforms?! I can’t have her running around in just the standardized outfit!”

Liaison Carmine looked to Lirya for help, but found none as the white furred Kafya had fallen asleep at the wheel and was lightly snoring. “I uh… I don’t handle that kind of… stuff.”

“Do you people do anything besides talk? All I have seen of you is you coming here and talking, talk talk ta-” Tyllia’s ears perked as the voice angrily yelled out from the data-slate, and she barred her fangs at it. “I can talk to whoever I damn well please! Do you have any idea who my father is?!”

Liaison Carmine slowly watched Tyllia stomp into the kitchen, yelling into her data-slate the entire way until she disappeared from view.

Mohki looked over her shoulder as she stepped out of the kitchen with a fresh plate of french toast and bacon, a grin breaking across her lips. “Jeeze, I almost feel sorry for the people she is always talking to. Do you want anything to eat, Liaison Carmine?”

“I ate before I arrived.” Carmine replied, remembering the wonky tasting jelly that didn’t normally taste so… weird. “Though I think the quality is slipping…”

Mohki waved a hand at him. “You Humans need more food than any creature I have ever come across. I’ll grab you some after Tyllia gets her-”

“The best you can do is three outfits?! I said five! F. I. V. E., five!” Tyllia bellowed, marching out of the kitchen with one data-slate pressed between her shoulder and cheek, plate of french toast in the now free hand, and the other data-slate still clenched in her offhand. “Do I need to come down to that foul smelling building again?! I will slap that cigar right out of your damn mouth if I have to!”

The noise cut away as she kicked her door shut with a slam, snapping Lirya awake with a shout of surprise.

“Good grief…” Mohki sighed, setting the plate down in front of Lirya. “She’s been on a tear all day when they wouldn’t approve her wardrobe budget for Lirya.”

Lirya blinked her tired eyes, then breathed in deep while leaning forward. “French toooassst…”

Liaison Carmine saw that her toast had both strawberries, powdered sugar, and maple syrup, feeling his stomach curl at all the sugar. He shot his eyes towards Mohki. “I uh…”

“I won’t make hers like yours, don’t worry.” Mohki said, stepping back towards the kitchen. “I’ll put it on the side so it’s there if you want it.”

Liaison Carmine made a mental note to go for a long jog when he finally got home, but accepted the plate from Mohki with a smile.

He let a laugh burst past his lips as he watched Lirya shove an entire triangle of french toast into her mouth, chewing groggily as Mohki set down a glass of milk with her own snort of amusement.

Carmine took a bite of his toast, then gave Mohki a thumbs up as she sat down on the couch and ate her lunch as well.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, Carmine finishing off his plate with military speed before setting it down onto the coffee table.

“So, Lirya, do you think you’ll be ready to address Kafyan troops this week? There are a few bodies coming back from a scuffle on a station that need to be buried.” Carmine said quietly, gesturing with a hand towards the general area of the cemetery. “I think it would be a good time to see what feels right to you, from all you’ve learned.”

Lirya let out a low groan as she idly chewed on a strip of bacon, the glass of milk sitting in the other hand. “I sh’pose…”

“She has been working herself into fits trying to rebuild the other rituals.” Mohki said, chewing on her own bacon. “I told her that she may have to create some new ones on her own, but she has been reluctant.”

“There’s nothing wrong with making something new.” Carmine agreed, nodding his head towards Lirya. “From what I have been briefed on, there is a lot missing from the data-cache and there is plenty of freedom to do what you… feel is right, really. According to what some folks have read, it will even come naturally.”

Lirya groaned past her bacon, closing her eyes.

“Besides, I believe you need to get a medical clearance before entering duty officially as a religious official.” Carmine said calmly, and his lips quirked into an odd smile as Lirya’s eyes shot open.

“I need a checkup?” Lirya said quickly past her bacon, coming to a raised-ear alertness. “At the hosh’pital?!”

Carmine raised his brows, now more curious than ever to find out why the little Kafya wanted to go to the hospital so badly. “Yes, I can take you now-”

He was cut off by Lirya jumping to her feet, throwing the half eaten bacon onto her plate as she did a long side skip towards the door. 

“We can go now!” Lirya cried out happily, already pulling on her Kafyan paw-boots.

Carmine stood up from his seat, bewildered, then turned towards Mohki as she held up her hand.

“Can I come?” Mohki asked, the ever watchful guardian to Lirya.

Before Lirya could turn around and deny the request, Carmine shrugged.

“Of course you can, leaves Tyllia alone to yell at whatever victim is on the other side of her data-slate. Plus you are her bodyguard, afterall.” Carmine replied, then blinked around to Lirya as he heard the dull thud of her forehead making contact with the door, her shoulders slumped in defeat.

Rhidi squinted at Ti’week, drumming her fingers on the cold steel table top.

She assumed that the Humans must have understood what the hell the little yellow goblin woman was talking about, but she couldn’t wrap her head around it, even with her Kafyan schooling.

“So… the drone ship was… a buoy?" Rhidi asked, wishing that Ti’week knew more English

Ti’week shimmied her shoulders again. “Yes! We wait’ded do’hn’on surface, an’ when’ded ready, drone ship give’ded signal! The, aye, uh, device’n paint’ded station, an’bwoosh! We arrive’ded in’an station at paint’ded point!”

“Oh… oh!” Rhidi said, snapping her fingers and lightly tapping her socked feet on the steel decking. “It’s a relay! You were using the drone as a relay so you could teleport onto the station!”

Pintrist gave a snort, muttering “teleport’ded” under her breath as she found the word rather funny, and Horpin giggled beside her.

“Yes!” Ti’week cried out, holding the tips of her ears as she laughed. “Relay! To receive’ded and pass’ded on information! We wait’ded on planet with one, ah… relay, and… uh… bounce’ded!”

Ti’week referred back to the drawing she had made with dry-erase marker, making hopping motions from the little circle she had drawn, the drone, and then the station while whispering “boop, boop, boop!” cheerfully. 

“Fascinating.” Rhidi muttered to herself, her tail wagging behind her. “Where did you get such technology?”

To this, Ti’week pinched the tips of her ears again and beamed a bright smile past her blue lips. “Delga stole’ded!”

“Stole’ded-” Rhidi began, then blinked angrily at herself before starting again. “You stole it from the Doch?”

“Yes.” Horpin answered, pointing a fine clawed hand at Ti’week. “Moludon sent’ded Delgan to go steal’ded, allow’ded us all to escape’ded”

“Many Delga dead’ded, but we stole’ded Doch tech’nilogy!” Ti’week said, looking rather proud of herself and her people. “Two… sand… two’sand’and worth’ded the cost!”

Two thousand of them died just for one of the relays? Rhidi asked herself, and she leaned forward a little. “Did you lose two thousand for all the relays?”

“No no, just’ded for the one. For we’san… er… ours’an. Ours’an relay.” Ti’week said, still trying to find the words. “I say’ded… may’bee milyun’s Delga die’ded total!”

Rhidi swallowed at that prospect, that millions of one race fought to steal the relays just so the rest could get away however they could.

“The Doch, what happened to them?” Rhidi asked, having seen the question come across the wall.

Pintrist raised her hand, the plush pink pads of her fingers oddly glaring against her gray fur. “Doch run’ded once Delgan stold’ded re’ways.”

“Relays.” Rhidi corrected, and was honestly growing a pretty substantial headache from having to talk with these three.

“Relays.” Pintrist corrected herself, reaching up and covering her nose with her palm. “Soz’.”

Rhidi closed her eyes for a long moment, then opened them again to Ti’week. “How many of your people are out and about, again? And they all have relays?”

“Tensa’mil’yuns!” Ti’week crowed, opening her arms to another part of the wall where a solar map was. “We flee’ded! Mass runn’n! We spread’ded wide and far!”

Rhidi saw the phrase scroll across the wall, and stood, pushing her chair back with a foot. “Looks like my command has enough for now. They want you to go back to your holding cells and study more English. They have a lot of questions they are going to want answers to, and you are going to have to study hard to learn the answers. We’ll be sending by a few Void Navymen to assist you in your lessons. Are you all still promising to be compliant and non-violent?”

Hoprin, Pintrist, and Ti’week nodded their heads in unison, smiling all the same.

“Alright, good. Wait here for the MP’s to take you back.” Rhidi said, moving towards the door.

“Thank’ded you, Rheedee!” Pintrist called out, holding the tips of her ears much in the same way as Ti’week was. “You’so cool!”

Rhidi could actually hear the laughter, ever so faintly, through the one-way glass, and hung her head back, looking up at the ceiling as she hit the release for the door.

“Thank you, Pintrist.” Rhidi said as politely as she could, then exited the room, brushing past the MPs who immediately entered in after her.

Just the hour and change of time spent in the room had burned Rhidi right to the wick, and with all her workouts for the day done, she pulled up her data-slate and sent a message. Before she ran out of energy completely, Rhidi made a lap around the ship to make sure none of her Kafya were getting up to no good.

Thankfully they were all lounging around the ship or snoozing, letting their bodies recover from their own workouts and flushing what fatigue they had from their system.

When Rhidi finally made it back to her room, she opened the door and promptly fell into the awaiting arms of Morris, letting out a long, drawn out moan into his chest.

“That bad?” Morris asked, hugging Rhidi close to him as the door shut behind her.

Rhidi let out another annoyed moan and talked mutedly into his chest, tail wagging and ears slack.

“They kept talking weird, how weird?” Morris asked, having become rather fluent in Rhidi’chestese.

After more mumbling into his chest, Morris clicked his teeth.

“Ah, they were saying words weird and kept adding ‘ded’ to the end, eh?” Morris asked down at Rhidi’s ears, giving the small of her back a little scritch.

More mumbles came from Rhidi, along with a little flail of the hands.

“Yes, we can ‘watch’ded’ a movie after I go and get some snacks. Anything you want from the shop?”

Rhidi pointed back towards her door, her face never leaving Morris’s chest as she spoke.

“Pizza rolls and cherry cola, yeah I can make that happen.” Morris chuckled, nuzzling his nose in between Rhidi’s ears and kissing her head. “You just relax in here, I’ll be back in a matter of minutes and we can watch a movie for a while, okay?”

A single grunt from Rhidi made him laugh, and he pulled her away from his chest to kiss her on the lips.

Rhidi’s tail immediately started wagging back and forth with more speed as she tilted her head just enough to strengthen their lock, placing her hands against Morris’s arms.

Morris parted the kiss with a light click of their flesh leaving, then patted Rhidi on the rump as he passed by her towards the door. “Find something to watch while I’m gone, I bet I can get one of the cooks to heat these things up in an oven for us.”

Due to the mood she was in. Rhidi drummed up an old horror movie well known by the Humans, a classic piece called “Shaun of the Dead”. The Cornetto Trilogy was still making the rounds through a lot of the other races due to the absolutely impossible to follow logic and humor, as those who finally understood the movies themselves also found they had a deeper understanding of Human thinking.

Rhidi was still quite worried about the possibility of these “zombie” things that a lot of Humans referenced in their movies, though the slower ones were more of a curiosity than the absolute horror of the others.

Slow zombies? Rhidi believed she would do well against them and survive quite easily. The most they could do is shamble about and moan, with the only real threat being their mass numbers somehow cornering you and removing the means of escape.

That or, apparently, twisting your ankle, but Rhidi wagered she could crawl faster than a shambler.

Fast zombies? Like the ones in “28 Days Later”? Those filled Rhidi with a kind of spine tingling dread that made her throat go dry.

The thought took her again as she brought up the movie, smiling brightly at the face of a long passed Human actor named Simon. It was one of his other movies though, not the one she was after.

Humans denied the existence of zombies, as well as a lot of other monsters from their folklore… but there were others that they were rather cagey about. 

Werewolves were well known, and were what one could call a “beloved” monster of Human folklore due to how weird they were. Scientists from all over found them actually rather funny due to how they completely flew against the laws of science, from how they not only changed from one being to another, but also gained height and weight. 

Werewolves alone had caused multiple shouting matches at the top schools of higher learning on multiple planets, as there were some who believed such a thing was possible through the application of a fictional device called a “re-mattering array”.

The arguments then always boiled down to such a device not existing, but then fingers were normally pointed back at Humans.

There were other mysterious creatures of folklore that the Humans were nervous about, such as the woodland stalking, behorned wendigo, the ever elusive Big Foot, or the beguiling vampires.

Due to Humanity's unease around such creatures, as well as their fear of them, there was not a single child of the stars that doubted their existence. This was doubly reinforced by survey teams going missing while on Earth trying to track them down, or from rogue scientists playing around with an infection known as “rabies”.

Rhidi could still remember the hysteria during the war as hopeful pirate-technicians and scholars stole themselves down to Earth, and picked up a raccoon with the disease present. They had not only managed to isolate rabies, and confirm that there was still no cure to it, but they suffered an internal civil war that saw their advanced rabies weapon become lost.

An advanced rabies known as “The Staggering”.

The threat of the The Staggering sent shock waves through every race, including the Ur, with Humanity enraged that someone was “stupid enough to play around with such a fatal disease”.

Humans saying that did not help with the panic, which caused planets to completely shut down travel if they could manage it during wartime.

Thankfully The Staggering did not resurface during the war, or during the current peace time, but the looming threat was still around. Just the threat of The Staggering was enough to make blood run cold due to the disease being amplified, not even PEP inoculations enough to stop the newest brand of terrifying that was this meddled-with-rabies… and rumors were that a planet or two on the outer rim had gone dark.

The thought made Rhidi’s fur stand on end as she thought about an entire world dead, except for the endless, roving waves of bodies infected by the virus, a body of a planet that still moved but contained no life.

In her opinion, a Big Foot or wendigo was preferable to a monster that she could not see with her naked eye, and she at least had a chance to outrun a vampire if she had enough of a head start.

As she scrolled through the movies trying to find the one she wanted, all of them playing a small snippet of the film themselves when she lingered on them, one came up that caused her breath to catch in her throat.

Rhidi had no idea what “The Silence of the Lambs” was about, yet the man’s face, smiling maliciously out of the screen, made her heart strangle in her chest.

She had seen a face like that before, a face that held such unbridled, unapologetic  savagery as he stared down at her.

Rhidi reflexively bared her teeth at the screen and took a single step back, her nose wrinkling and heart hammering in her chest as that same, old fear crawled its way down her arms like the cold fingers of ghosts.

It hadn’t been long enough to forget that man, the Older Brother who had found her in the ruined depths of the Doch’s base, less than a year, but she could still smell the lingering stank of death, blood, and entrails in her nostrils.

“That’s right.” The lingering memory echoed in her brain, the dull red light of his Lilgaran butcher talons filling her mind as if they were a pair of blazing suns. “I am the Older Brother.”

The man on the screen grinned down at her as the face of the Older Brother burned across her mind. Her stomach quavered as she remembered the feeling of his hands on her fur, the look of his gray eyes as he smiled at her, and his dusky-red, tangled locks of hair that held as much blood as they did true color.

The face of the killer that was her rescuer.

“You are brave. Most would have flown away by now, and I would have had to chase them.” The memory echoed, her thoughts curling and twisting like panicked snakes as tears began to fuzz her eyes. Just the old memory of his boots were enough to make the bile of her stomach rise in her throat, and she let out a gasp of horror as she took two more steps backwards. “But I already knew that. I can smell us on your soul, Tyr’s dóttur.”

The stank of raw flesh, torn muscle, burnt skin, sweat, and blood assaulted her mind as the ghostly hand of the memory reached out for her, and she let out a scream as she flinched backwards, the back of her knees catching the edge of her bed and causing her to fall backwards.

She toppled to the ground in a tangle of her blanket and thrashing limbs, coming to a rest on her back after thudding off of her bed with a pang of her shoulder. Her chest pumped up and down like a startled bird, her mouth open and panting as the memory refused to fade away, the panic attack only beginning to crescendo.

“That is good. Tyr desires those who refuse to give up, even in the face of fear. Are you a believer, Private Rhidi?”

Rhidi gasped out a scream as her door opened, Morris stepping in with a box of piping hot pizza rolls and a case of cherry cola.

Morris blinked his eyes as Rhidi skittered back into the corner of her barracks room, fur standing on end, tail brush-bottled, and fangs bared as if she was a cornered animal. Sweat poured off of her in streams, and her chest was moving so quickly that it looked as if she was drowning and fighting for breath.

“Rhidi…” Morris said quietly, setting down the box and the cola before holding up his hands. “Rhidi, it’s me, Morris.”

Rhidi shunted out four, harsh breaths, her panic attack now fully gripping her. All she could smell was the Older Brother, the stench of his skin, the smell of his fingers as he ran a thumb along the cut on her cheek, the musk of his breath…

“M-Morris!” Rhidi heaved, her hands clutching at her chest. “Morris!”

Morris was across the room in only a few steps as the door closed behind him, scooping Rhidi up into his arms and holding her closely to his chest. 

Rhidi’s nails dug into him so sharply that they drew blood through his shirt, clinging to the Human and attempting to anchor herself in the current reality. She breathed in deep through her nose, fighting back the old scents of the Older Brother with the comforting aroma of Morris, his skin, his hair, his clothing, his favorite tooth paste…

Rhidi’s heart finally began to slow as she buried her nose into Morris’s neck, letting out a pitiful cry as she clung to him like a startled child.

Morris glanced to her Edition 5 data-display screen, saw the movie trailer that was idly playing across the screen, and connected the dots rather quickly. Wiggling a hand free, he tapped along the screen and shifted the selection over to older animated movies, ridding the room of Hannibal Lector’s insidious grin.

“I saw his face…” Rhidi panted into Morris’s neck, releasing her claws and instead wrapping her arms around the Human properly. “I could smell him, I could hear him…”

Morris ran a hand along her hair and over her ears, softly pressing his face into the top of her head. “I know, but it’s alright. He can’t get you here. It’s just an old memory.”

“I could smell it…” Rhidi sobbed, her ears shaking and tail tucked between her thighs.

“I know…” Morris said soothingly, patting her on the back with a knowing, unhappy sigh. “I know.”

He knew that Rhidi had been reminded of her old memories a few times now, triggering panic attacks or causing her to have nightmares in her sleep. She had told him as much, and he knew very few aliens could handle a movie subject such as The Silence of the Lambs without a dash of post traumatic stress disorder.

When he eventually died, Morris was going to have words with Anthony Hopkins.

When Rhidi had finally calmed down and Morris had cleaned the tears from the fur of her face, he retrieved their snacks and took charge of finding the movie Rhidi was after while she sat in his lap, facing him and resting her head on his shoulder.

Morris couldn’t help but snort when Rhidi reached for something on her bed, and then filled his ears with the crunch of pizza rolls meeting teeth.

“Let the traumatized Kafya eat her pizza rolls, Human.” Rhidi muttered, her tail lashing behind her a few times as Morris put on Shaun of the Dead.

With the threat of Anthony Hopkin’s face far and away from her, she turned around and sat in Morris’s lap properly, wiggling her feet back and forth from the space in between his legs as the movie started.

Several pizza rolls and a can of cherry cola in, Rhidi was giggling along with Morris as the low-angle of the zombie apocalypse began. She couldn’t fully explain it, but the aspect of a horror movie mixed with a comedy was a delightful clash of positions that made her smile.

Rhidi sighed out happily, now recovered, and looked up at Morris as he cracked open another can of cola.

“What is your preferred kind of zombie?” Rhidi asked, idle fingers reaching over to snag another pizza roll.

Morris took a drink from his can in thought, then snapped his fingers as he remembered what reference he was looking for. “iZombies.”

“What the hell is an iZombie?” Rhidi asked, having been expecting the Human to say some insane shit like ‘sprinters’ or ‘hulks’.

“They’re a Human who drank an infected energy soda and became infected with a zombie virus.” Morris said with a grin, popping his legs to make Rhidi wiggle back and forth. “After being infected, the zombies have to eat brains in order to stay alive, but resemble just really pale Humans with white hair if they stay fed. Plus they get to relive memories that reside in their brain dinner!”

Rhidi narrowed her eyes up at Morris as he set down his can, slowly chewing as she watched him, then swallowed before reaching up and placing a padded finger on his nose. “This is why you Humans freak the rest of us out. Seriously, how do you even come up with something like that? It sounds like something that actually happened and got covered up.”

“Oh please, zombies aren’t real.” Morris chided playfully, scritching at Rhidi’s cheeks with his fingers as she growled in her throat. “That’s like saying the Swamp Thing is real or something.”

“Right, and vampires aren’t real either, right?” Rhidi fussed, though she was enjoying the cheek scratches.

Morris looked a little worried as he glanced back up at the screen, his hands smoothing back Rhidi’s hair. “Yeah, of course.”

“... I find that answer vague and unconvincing.” Rhidi said lowly with narrowed eyes, the hair on her neck raising in response. “Vampires are fake, right? Like werewolves and Big Foot?”

Morris stared at her for a heart beat too long, then went back to scritching her cheeks. “Yeah, just like werewolves.”

“And Big Foot.” Rhidi added, her eyebrows coming together above her narrowed eyes. “And the wendigo.”

Morris cleared his throat, nodding his head back towards the movie. “Your favorite part is coming up.”

Rhidi had learned quite a few of Morris’s facial ticks, as well as his scents for when he was telling a fib, and the way his eyes darted from her to the screen made her stomach do a flip.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN VAMPIRES ARE REAL?!” Rhidi screamed, her fur prickling all over her body and standing on end. She whirled around in his embrace, coming up onto her knees as she gripped his face. “THEY EAT PEOPLE, MORRIS! SAY ‘SIKE’ RIGHT NOW! SAY THE MAGIC HUMAN WORD!”

Morris held up his hands, sweat prickling at his forehead. He had shown Rhidi a few of the more classic vampire movies during their nights alone, and Rhidi found the concept so creepy and unsettling that she had to hide her face multiple times in a pillow.

“They don’t exist, I swear!” Morris said with an awkward smile, trying to play it off as a prank. “I mean honestly, Humans that drink blood? That’s absurd!”

Rhidi breathed in deep through her nose, and her eyes widened with a terrified peaking of her ears, enough to force them straight up and down past their helmet-crease.

She flexed her fingers into Morris’s cheeks, touching her nose roughly to his. “You LIE!”

—

“My, they just let anyone on this battleship now, don’t they?” Miss La teased, bringing her coffee to her lips. She felt quite at home in the little cafe, and was happily warm thanks to her insulated leggings and the long sleeve, wool sweater that Bloodmourne had gotten her.

Radishow grumped out a laugh, already on his third coffee and sitting as far away as Miss La would allow so he didn’t have to smell her cheesecake. He had brought his usual clothes with him, darker shades of pants, boots, and shirts that allowed him to blend in anywhere despite his pink hair.

“They nearly tore that ship apart getting here, didn’t stop skipping until all the warning lights were on and the klaxons screaming. I don’t think we Pwah can get gray hairs, but those Humans did their best to make them appear…” Radishow muttered, still remembering how hard he had been white knuckling his jumpseat.

“Are you sure you don’t want a slice of cheesecake?” Miss La asked, placing a cutting of it into her mouth and cleaning off the spoon with a pop of her lips. “The Moose is actually rather well known for their little bakery on here! I think they have cows hidden somewhere…”

Radishow grimaced, only barely handling the smell of the stuff, let alone imagining the taste of it. “No, I will stick with my coffee and sugar, thank you. Have you heard about what Rhidi found out from her little friends onboard the Wild Hunt?”

“I would hardly call prisoners-turned-refugees ‘friends’, Rhidi butchered a fair number of them.” Miss La said with a sigh, having watched all of the recordings that were getting spread around the internet like wildfire. “No one could have known, really. They fired first without knowing just who or what they were firing on.”

Radishow raised his eyebrows up in a shrug as he sipped from his mug of steaming coffee.

That was always an issue when someone came in from outside the IDC; Some children of the stars see the planets as theirs for the taking, and only the strongest survives. This way of life did not last long with the Pwah, Lilgara, Kojynn, or the Kafya, but least of all with the Humans.

It had only been a few months since a small, fledging pirate faction had attacked a Drafritti planet, and the Human Void Navy was still collecting the scrap of the pirate’s ruined fleets for recycling.

A small race, smeared from the stars in the matter of a single afternoon.

“They did the smart thing by surrendering, if you ask me.” Radishow murmured, looking back towards the kitchen and wondering where his pasta was. “The Humans would have clear cut them like brushwood if they had continued fighting. They’ll catch some flack for surrendering as quickly as they did, but they were refugees more than invaders.”

Miss La nodded in agreement as she took another bite of her cheesecake. It still struck her as funny how her chair was nearly three times the size of Radishow’s in width and construction, as the Pwah could use the normal chairs while she could not.

Technically it was more of a bench than a chair, but needs must.

“You knew you were going to have to wait longer than the others.” Miss La chided at the Pwah, as he kept looking over his shoulder towards the kitchen’s swing doors. “A Pwah ordering pasta and not wanting cheese anywhere near their food is going to be an absolute headache.”

“I still don’t understand how you people eat that polfrotta.” Radishow said with a grimace, the very thought of it turning his stomach. “Rotten milk, that’s all it is. How can a race that created such a divine treat as ice cream also manage to craft the most horrible substance known to Pwah kind…”

“The Pwah soldiers in the UAA don’t seem to mind it much.” Miss La said with a teasing tone.

Radishow actually bared his teeth with how hard he snarled at the thought. “Yes, we know. I don’t know what kind of brainwashing the Humans are using to get that effect out of them, but I would reckon the Kafya would pay top dollar for it. Probably that miasmir your lot keep going on about.”

Miss La laughed so hard that she covered her draconic nose and mouth, which also caused Radishow to start chuckling as well.

Both of them knew full well that the Kafya were no strangers to brainwashing, going as far as to chemically douse their own citizenry with inhibitors in their food, and to also keep in policy an extremely strict social ranking system based on color of all things.

A Human waitress came towards the table, holding both Radishow’s vanilla milkshake and his pasta bolognese.

Without any cheese.

“Mr. Radishow.” She said politely, all gleaming white teeth and freckles as she placed the bowl in front of the Pwah, then his shake. “No cheese, as requested. We even changed out the knives to make sure.”

Radishow let out a happy sigh as he breathed in the comforting aroma of slow cooked marinara and Italian sausage, as well as the coil of noodles that lay in the bowl. 

“Thank you, Rebecca.” Radishow said, then smiled as the Human wiggled her fingers at him. He wiggled them back at her with a chuckle as he watched her walk away, then picked up his fork. “Amazing creatures, Humans.”

Miss La raised a brow. “For their cooking, or from you watching her walk away?”

“Can it not be both?” Radishow responded aloofly, twirling his pasta around on his fork. “And I am still mad at you, by the way.”

Miss La rolled her eyes, then smiled at Rebecca as she came by with a fresh pot of tea for the blue scaled Skalathir. When the Human had walked away, she poured herself a new cup while leveling her eyes at the Pwah in front of her. “I will not apologize for finding a match to the space my heart required, even if that means you not getting to go to Italy.”

“A few days in Benning, and then zoom, off to taste the finest dishes in the Human Boot.” Radishow said airily, then took a bite of his pasta with a good amount of slurping and throat noises. He chewed happily for a moment, then closed his eyes with a sigh.

Miss La smiled at the man, tossing a few sugar cubes into her rather large cup.

Radishow was like most Pwah, though he had a far stronger spine for the change he wanted to see. Having languished under the rule of his planet’s royal family as a scribe, he broke loose of the shackles and smuggled himself on board a Human trading vessel, working in their accounting office for passage to Earth.

He was odd for a scribe, his bright pink hair and equally pink eyes usually denoting him of higher birth status, but he seemed to find no love for the kin like him. His time on board the trading vessel had given his pale skin a few nicks and dings, and he kept them covered with long sleeves most of the time.

Like every other Pwah Miss La had met, they had a love of Human food and fashion, though the horror of cheese, yogurt, and other “old” dairy products were still nose-assaulting boogymen.

If anything Radishow was on the more extreme side of the scale, and had always made a point to ask how fresh dairy products were before buying or eating them.

“Are you sure you could have made it in the land of parmesan cheese? I once read the Italians had a special kind of cheese with maggots in it…” Miss La mused, watching the Pwah closely.

Radishow’s eyes flicked open with hatred, and he pointed his sauced fork at her. “Don’t you dare, not while I am eating Lathway!”

“Oh my, first names? I must have touched a nerve…” Miss La snickered while Radishow rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his milkshake. “Did you know that the Kojynn are now the biggest importers of bananas? The Humans gave up on the shipping costs and are building a station around one of their planets purpose-bound to purely grow the things.”

“No different than the Drafritti with tofu, or the Lilgara and their obsession with silk moth larvae.” Radishow said, twirling a new helping of pasta around his fork. “What I find more interesting is how Humans need to have food of their own Earth to stay healthy. You read that report right?”

Miss La nodded. “The ‘grub trials’, as they were called. Humans lost both bone density and muscle mass after trying to subsist on food of other cultures, with only the Skalathir diet giving them some source of actual sustenance. Bit of an odd one that…”

“You mean because they were drinking Skalathir breast milk in order to keep their calcium up, or because the Skalathir were shocked that there was an actual market for it?” Radishow said absentmindedly before cleaning his fork of pasta.

Miss La let out a nervous titter of laughter, more so that she hoped Radishow would never find out that Bloodmourne had also read the report without her knowing and it had raised a few interesting questions in their relationship. “Well, you know, Humans were surprised that, despite we Skalathir and the Lilgara being one of scale and tail, we nurse our young.”

“It’s one of the founding principles of an advanced society, or a theory on it anyway.” Radishow chimed in, too enthralled in his pasta to notice that Miss La was fighting to get the blush out of her cheeks. “Those who nourish their young on their own life forces are destined to rule, with the only exception being the insectoid races we come across from time to time.”

Miss La, happy for a change in subject, snapped her draconic fingers. “Right! Have you read about the changes in the Ichiti and the Morloli? They advanced again!”

“I heard, they’re cocooning again and this time taking the Morloli with them for their next ‘evolution’. I have never heard of a species undergoing such a radical change twice, and it is rather fascinating that they can do it at will.” Radishow said, humming to himself as he took a sip of his shake. “According to their little… leaders? Priests? What are they?”

“I believe they are a theocracy, so priests may be the best title.” Miss La replied.

“Whatever they are, they foresaw a ‘needed change for the conflict ahead’, and have had their entire surviving race form into a grand cocooning under the watch of Human, Pwah and Kojynn soldiers.” Radishow said, though his face darkened. “This is not the first time we have run across a race of people that have been able to read the stars, and the Ur took them out first for a reason.”

Miss La’s own face was one of mixed emotions, remembering the butchering of Thomun’s Children. “Yes, the Ur’s doing…”

“You still believe it was the Kafyan Elder Councils that lead to their demise?” Radishow asked, looking up from his pasta.

“I believe many things were the doing of the Elder Councils.” Miss La said darkly, her mood swinging into raw hatred as she sipped her tea. “The same reason why I think we are starting to zero in on why they have been attempting to eradicate certain white furs.”

Radishow took a long drink of his milkshake, then set the glass down with a frustrated sigh. “I never would have imagined they would have gone for her on Earthen soil, let alone on a military installation. You said our little friends tracked the ship all the way to Kafya Mintulcurr? Truly?”

“Skooma went through every camera he could get his hands on, and we have a direct flight path. He even managed to get ahold of a picture of the ship on the ground getting loaded.” Miss La replied, setting down her tea cup. “The Humans tend to not send delegates to negotiations with someone whom they perceive is an active threat…”

“They send Liaisons, yes, I heard.” Radishow said, resting his chin on the backs of his hands as he propped his elbows onto the table. “Nasty bit that, means they were expecting a fight. My insider let me know what happened.”

Miss La blinked in surprise. “Someone leaked what happened during the meeting? That is extremely dangerous…”

Radishow chuckled. “Yes, well, she does enjoy the drama of it all. The Humans were about to expose the Kafya directly when they immediately agreed to all requests for compensation, including those three planets. I assume Lirya is already getting things ready for her parents?”

“As soon as they can legally leave, yes. She’s already found a home for them in Georgia, but I suspect the UAA Army will want them on base in case they are attacked again.” Miss La said, remembering how excited the AIs were at sharing that news only last night. “It is going to be more than a few weeks, but that little planet is going to become a rather busy place.”

“Being on the fringe of Kafya space allows it to be an extremely important trading hub.” Radishow said matter of factly. “Humans are going to be quite busy this star-year, it seems.”

Miss La nodded in agreement. “Between the Ichiti, their acquisition of these new planets, the refugees, the threat of a looming conflict, and now the fact they know a member of the IDC attempted to commit a genocide linked crime and a revenge killing on their planet… very busy indeed.”

Radishow huffed out a laugh, polished off the rest of his pasta, then leaned back in his chair. “So, what should we discuss first?”

Miss La looked around the room; Rebecca had been more than happy to give them a quiet, secluded part of the cafe, and Sparkle Otter had confirmed that the cafe itself was a dead area as far as surveillance went.

“What do you think is going to happen with the Kafya?” Miss La asked, that old, cold spark of hatred glowing to life in her heart.

Radishow wrinkled his nose as he leaned forward on his elbows again. “They are going to be very quiet, if I had to wager. They nearly got ousted from the IDC with their little shadow war against themselves, and it would be catastrophic if the Humans turned their eye of war against them. The Kafya are the most numerous, but they would collapse under an open war with only them on their side.”

“I heard the Blackmoons are leaving in mass to land on Endrohoya, as are a lot of other Kuwai who want to be amongst their people again. You know that is going to piss off the Elder Councils.”

“It will, but they aren’t stupid enough to try and do anything about it. If they try and attack that planet, the Humans would declare open war to protect their assets. The Kojynn and Pwah would join the war just to stab their finger into the eyes of the Elder Councils for once.”

Miss La thought on this, as she hoped that if such a war ever happened, that the Skalathir would once again don their war armor and stride onto the battlefield for their revenge.

“What do you think is going to happen to Lirya?” Radishow asked, snapping the Skalatir from her inner thoughts.

Miss La blinked to herself, trying to remember what Sparkle Otter and Oballin had told her, then raised a clawed finger. “I believe she has been… incensed? If that is the right word for it. Rhidi’s little sister is headlining her social media campaign and Tyllia is studying what we could recover of the ancient Kafya religion from that data-cache.”

“The one that the Kojynn smuggled out?” Radishow asked.

“Yes, the very one.” Miss La answered, taking a quick sip of her tea before going on. “I believe that if we can use her, as well as these three planets being given to the Humans, to rally some of the fringe-world Kafya, we could start a proper movement within the Kafya themselves.”

Radishow breathed in deeply as he thought, looking sideways as he began exhaling air slowly from his nose. He then looked at Miss La, his eyes bright with mischief. “You believe that Lirya can do what the data-cache says that her people can? Read minds? Influence the other castes of the Kafya?”

“I believe she is already doing it without she herself knowing she is.” Miss La said, then took a moment to go over if the sentence was grammatically correct in her head. Deciding to not ponder it too long, she continued on while setting down her cup. “Tyllia, Rhidi’s sister you see, I don’t think she would have ever rubbed elbows with a white fur, let alone a brown fur from a clan that has been ‘othered’. But now she is basically good friends with Lirya and appears to want to stay by her side by means that I personally cannot fathom. Sparkle Otter says that she has seen Tyllia playing card games with Lirya, doing laundry together, even allowing the white fur to stick a spoon in her mouth!”

“... Why did she stick a spoon in her mouth?” Radishow asked, confused.

Miss La waved her free hand. “Lirya was trying to make a stew and wanted Tyllia to try it, but you see that is magical in and of itself! I cannot think of a single yellow fur within the core planet system that would allow a white fur to do that to them.”

“Isn’t that more due to Kohan? The man may as well have been the spearhead of alternative Kafyan thinking.” Radishow asked, then took another long draw of his shake.

“No, no I don’t think so, not with Tyllia anyway.” Miss La said, taking a long sip of her tea before setting it back down onto the table top. “Rhidi was more open minded by far, but Tyllia was well into the grips of her mother. Watching Lirya slowly change Tyllia day by day gave me hope that Lirya was a remnant of one of the ancient houses that the data-cache spoke of, but I think the reaction by the Elder Councils more or less clinches it.”

Radishow slowly slurped on the straw of his shake, then shrugged before setting the cup down. “I’ll swing back by Earth the next chance I get and see her myself, maybe I can see something first hand that will allow us to get more funding from our patron assembly. After I see her, and if my findings concur with yours, we can submit something to the heads.”

“That sounds like a plan.” Miss La agreed, resting her own draconic chin on the back of her hand, elbow propped on the table. “What do you think is going to happen after the Humans gather up all of these ‘Lup’Hora’ refugees?”

“How do you know that is going to happen?” Radishow asked, tilting his head forward at the Skalathir. “Rhidi just went into that room with them only an hour-... is Sparkle Otter in there?”

Miss La giggled. “No, no, unfortunately only Whirler could make it into the room and is currently spying on them via one of the blister turrets in the corner. They were running from the Doch, which tells us more than we need to know, and it seems that the Humans are using Rhidi to get information on the locations of the other refugee splinters.”

“Why do they only want to speak to Rhidi anyway?” Radishow asked, twirling the straw in his shake to break up the clumps of ice cream. 

Miss La shrugged. “I still don’t know the answer to that one, but those three she’s in the room with seem to like her for whatever reason.”

“She tried to kill them. Hell, she nearly succeeded until the little yellow one sent them flying across the floor and into that floor duct. That recording is hovering at four hundred billion views… and Humans keep putting bowling pin noises in the background…”

“I never said it made sense, but maybe it has something to do with their culture.” Miss La said with a sniff, Whirler still chattering away in her inner-ear piece. “But it seems like the Humans are going to gather them up for whatever reason… you know Humans, they tend to collect races like pets and dote over the more stricken ones.”

Radishow hummed over the thought, then held up a finger. “It may actually have something to do with the ring initiative that I have been trying to pin down.”

“What is this ‘ring initiative’ I keep hearing about?” Miss La asked, leaning forward at the waist.

“Ah, you are going to get a real kick out of this.” Radishow said with an air of excitement, leaning forward as well. “That’s why that ship was burning the lining off of their panels to get here as fast as they could! That little nugget of technology those refugees stole? It’s the key they were missing to the machine they ripped out of XJ-1!”

“So they did extract something from XJ-1?” Miss La asked, lowering her tone to a whisper. “No one has heard a peep of that, even the AIs that worked in the mission have sworn secrecy protocols. Is it what we all thought it was?”

Radishow nodded. “My spy network tracked it back to Earth and have been sighting it due to its heat signature, damn thing is so far underground that it looks like a red hot pinpoint due to the heat exchanger vents.”

“Where are they keeping it?” Miss La asked.

“It’s underneath a fake wheat field in Nebraska.” Radishow whispered, leaning forward a little more. “Sparkle Otter managed to get a peek at it, right?”

“Not much of one.” Miss La sighed out in frustration. “Only got her eyes on it for three seconds before she got pre-alerted and collapsed that rendition of herself to avoid getting trapped in their security systems. It’s running, as in the Drafritti got the damned thing working, but they can’t use it.”

Radishow held up a finger. “Not until now, that is. I think they got the key from the refugee’s little drone ship, and if they find more of the refugees, they are going to possibly have more keys to play with.”

“How the hell does that work? That many people can’t fit in a drone, Radishow.” Miss La said with furrowed brows, leaning forward more as Radishow gestured to her with a beckoning finger, his mouth parted with a devious, vanilla scented smile.

Ch 43: Space Locked

“A pirate attack just outside the IDC governmental station? You’ve gotta be shitting me.” Rhidi said with a wry smile, looking at Yiwa as if she had walked up to her and started speaking in tongues. “Why the fuck would pirates attack a ship that close to a major installation?”

“How am I supposed to know?” Yiwa asked with a huff. “I’m just telling you what the communications guys told me! Pirates attacked a skiff that was docked to one of our ships, then the ship undocked and lubed up!”

Rhidi snorted. “Blew up, Yiwa.”

“Right, yes, blew up.” Yiwa muttered with a wave of her hand. “The explosion was big enough that none of the bodies were in one piece, and the Elder Councils are claiming it was ‘rogue white fur pirates’ or something. What a load of baloney, right? Are you telling me that there are enough white furs left to have their own pirate faction in space? Give me a break!”

Rhidi glanced towards Imridit on her left, the group of them sitting and playing a trading card game within The Dark Wood cafe.

“I’m going toooo… tap my elder forest, and play Wunder Wabbit.” Imridit said, slapping down two cards from her hand. “As for that many white furs in one place? Being that close to that station? I doubt it.”

Oin shrugged a shoulder, her turn now due to their clockwise rotation, then drew a card from her deck and placed it down onto the table. “I’m going to tap my gore swamps and summon a Creeping Craven. As for this whole white fur problem, I’ve personally only met a handful and they were real assholes. Not like, how yellows would be, but they just get picked on by everybody, and live out in the slums. This is visiting multiple planets, mind. I think of the ten planets I’ve traveled to for work, I’ve met seven white furs.”

“You’ve met more than me then.” Uppil mused, taking a long drink from her ale before throwing down her own cards. “I’ve only met two, and they were a sorry lot, lived in an old rundown shuttle on the outskirts of town with their parents. It always struck me as odd, you know, how white furs can just pop out of parents of any color. It’s like a genetic blind draw.”

Anfilid wrinkled her nose at Uppil’s cards, as she hated people who played control decks. “Blind draws usually end with prizes and a nice rush when your name comes up, the white furs just get kicked down the totem pole and are left places to die. I used to find their buried bodies all the time when I would provide security for construction crews, they’d be down there digging support columns and find the corpses bundled up in blankets.”

“Makes you wonder why though.” Inthur said quietly, taking a drink from her own mug before drawing a card from her stack. “Like, why them? Pinks are the offspring of whites and reds, but you never see a pink getting left outside the city slums. Hell, I’ve seen sky furs get treated better, and they’re part white as well!”

Oin raised a brow. “You mean the super light blue furs? You call them sky furs?”

“Sky blue is a lovely color if you ask me.” Marides chirped, the Pwah playing her cards and doing damage to Inthur. The blue fur let out an aggravated yell as her health points ticked down to eighteen. “But you would think being part white would be a detriment. As far as I have seen, they get treated about the same as all the other lower class colors.”

Acici chuckled, drawing out a card and playing a few. “All this warring over colors makes me happy my kind just came in one state. I mean honessstly, why do Kafya still stick to sssuch antiquated societal structures?”

“It’s just the way it is.” Rhidi murmured, annoyed now that she was likely going to lack the mana to cast the spell she wanted. “And everyone here didn’t want it anyway, why we all joined with the UAA.”

Yiwa nodded. “Getting away from the rigid social structures has been a breath of fresh air as far as I am concerned. I may have been middle class, but life was not so easy being green!”

Yiwa let out a growl as Inthur and Oin did their best rendition of Kermit the frog, both repeating “not easy being green” while making hand puppet motions with their hands.

Rhidi giggled; Movie nights had gotten rather interesting with the inclusion of the Muppet adventures.

“It just seems so odd that the Kafya held onto such an old way of life, is all.” Marides said, ignoring the angry sounds of Yiwa as Inthur and Oin leaned across the table and started pestering her with their mouthing hands. “All the other races in the IDC shook that stuff thousands of years ago, not even the Kojynn practice it anymore. Space is just too big for such close-minded thinking.”

“How much longer are we going to be in ssspace, anyway?” Acici asked, reaching up and stretching her arms. Yiwa caught a stray bap to the side of the face from the Lilgaran’s breasts, and she spluttered as Acici lowered her arms. “I mean, we’ve been out here ever sssince that fight on the station! I don’t want to spend another day in space if I don’t have to!”

Yiwa pulled Acici’s arm down, blinking her eyes angrily at the rogue breast-bop. “We will be out here for another few weeks. Our battle group has to rendezvous with a sanctioned rogue station and make sure it passes muster. Well, not us but some inspector stationed on the Moose.”

“A rogue station? For real?” Marides asked in alarm. “Aren’t those normally controlled by smugglers and pirates and shit? Why the hell did someone sanction them?”

“Because they are in between a trading station and the UAA’s new planets.” Uppil said, as if it was the most common sense answer out there. “You saw the announcement, and if Yiwa is right, it went out only a few hours after the supposed pirate attack.”

Marides tapped one of her fingers along the top edge of her cards, pursing her lips in thought before turning to look at Oin. “That’s a pretty big deal, isn’t it? Handing over three planets like that?”

“Quite a deal indeed.” Acici answered before slurping noisily on her mug, setting it back down as everyone looked at her, annoyed. “Planetsss being used to settle damages has been reserved for deep slightsss, and I have never known the Kafya to give up sssuch resource rich planets, let alone so many.”

Oin nodded, her ears perked. “It is… rather suspect, indeed. It makes me wonder what was said in that meeting room.”

“Above our paygrade, so we’ll likely never know.” Rhidi said, slapping down the land she had been searching for. Her time for victory had finally co-

“Corporal Rhidi.” 

Rhidi looked up and around, a card named “The Humming Man” pinched between her fingers, and spotted the Void Navyman who called out her name.

“They want to speak to you again, both our commands want it done now.” He said, slapping the side of a nearby faux tree twice and then walking away. “Counseling Room 7-A!”

“But!” Rhidi whined, looking down at her hand and then the card play area. “B-But!”

“Time now, Corporal Rhidi!” The Void Navyman called out over his shoulder, and Rhidi let out a long, frustrated exhale of breath past her teeth.

Marides leaned backwards, looking at Rhidi’s cards, and let out a laugh. “Hah! Looks like I get to win again ladies! Rhidi is out of the game and I just drew my Sublime Slime!”

“Mother fucker!” Inthur growled sharply, slapping her cards to the table top with a jiggle of her tank top. “I fucking hate this game!”

—

Deciding to keep on her soft joggers and sweater, Rhidi walked steadily down the gangways to Counseling Room 7-A, located towards the brig area and furthest away from the armory.

Rhidi hummed to herself, her yellow tail swishing back and forth behind her as the correct hallway loomed into view after turning a corner, outside of which were dozens of Void Marines.

“Good morning Rhidi!” A Marine called out, watching her as she strode by. “Any luck in your game? You got that Humming Man card in there this time yeah?”

“Got pulled out before I could enact my grand plan and play it. It was right in my fingers when a Squid showed up.” Rhidi replied after turning on her heel, walking backwards a few steps and then turning around with a shrug. “Hopefully next time I can finally play that damn thing and win!”

“Always next time I guess! Everyone fears a humming man!” The Marine replied, smiling to himself as he watched the light bounce of her butt and the gamely jiggle of her thighs. “Morris… you lucky bastard…”

Rhidi heard that, her ears becoming rather stiff and warm as she grinned to herself. She had been getting quite a large amount of teasing and guff from Alias for now outranking Morris, and was having to eat a mountain of crow after chiding at the Pwah for dating their Pod Section Leader. 

Now she was a Corporal who was having a Private pin her to the bed and push her ankles past her ears, which made their interactions during work a real headtrip. Other lower enlisted hated Morris with a passion out of jealousy, the Human telling her daily that other Humans kept remarking on him “living the dream”.

It always made Rhidi giggle, as did other things.

What didn’t make her giggle was that the prisoners had elected three representatives to speak for them, and said representatives only wanted to talk to her when they needed something. The entire battle group was waiting on any one of the captured Lup’Hora to flip, but they had held out resolutely so far.

The three in question were precisely the first three she had spotted, two of the beastial ones like her, and a yellow-faced little woman that had rockets in her boots.

According to the Humans, the taller Lup’Hora looked like “American opossums with hyena ears”, while the smaller ones were just “goblin coded.”

Having no idea what a goblin even was, Rhidi and the rest of the non-Earthlings had spent a few nights going over the little mythical creatures, which on Earth appeared to be horrible little beings. Humans drew and painted them more or less as demons, with pointed fangs, big noses, and a feral attitude that was wrapped around a core of blood and debauchery.

While it was true that the little yellow folk did look a lot like goblins in stature and build, they were far more refined in bone that spoke of their advanced development. 

Rhidi hoped that the three had learned more English since their last visit, as she had little desire to learn their odd language and was growing tired of pantomimes.

If anything, she found that since learning English, a lot of the other languages had become quite laborious to use. Kafya-hi was her mother language, and she used it when she had to, but English just had so many more words to describe things. 

That went doubly so for the ones that could only be used when not in polite company.

When she came before the door that was assigned to be a bother in her day, she entered in her military designation code and it slid open to expose the three inside.

They all brightened into smiles when they saw her, and waved happily.

The two taller Lup’Hora, the “opossum” ones, were wearing whatever the hell the Void Navymen were giving them to wear. Today it appeared to be sweat pants resting just below the base of their tails, and two of the oddest shirts she had ever seen.

The female, which to Rhidi’s ever growing annoyance, was barely fitting in her shirt due to her breasts, and appeared to have been given a bra on loan as well. Her shirt read something to the effect of “women fear me, fish want me, men avert their eyes”, which was more than likely some ancient meme dredged up from the annals of history.

The male was wearing some magical girl shirt, which all appeared to be sailors of some kind and wearing skirts that would certainly allow for freedom of movement on board a ship.

The littler, goblinoid Lup’Hora was wearing her own pair of better-fitting sweatpants and a shirt that Rhidi had frankly never seen before, something that apparently involved a sentient box of fries with a beard, a milkshake with eyes, and the oddest little ball of meat she had ever seen.

“Goot’ mornink’!” The smaller one cried out, waving both of her hands. “We learn’ded!”

Rhidi put on a polite smile; She still had a deep well of disgust for these three, a kind of ill contempt that she was surprised she harbored for an enemy that gave up in front of her.

At least the Doch had the balls to fight to the death.

“Well done.” Rhidi replied, pulling out her chair and sitting down in it with a swish of her tail. “Do you remember the rules?”

“Remain’ded po’lite.” The male said, bowing his head forward.

“Or else turrets make… us dead’ded!” The female said, bowing forward as well.

Rhidi glowered at her.

Or a part of her, anyway.

She looked up into the corners of the small room, the barrels of the blister turrets pointing straight at the seats of the prisoners. These rooms were barely big enough for five people, fitted with an observation room along one wall with one-way glass on one of the two short walls, two long walls, and the last short wall with the door.

The deck was raw, steel plating, and Rhidi was glad she was wearing her warm station socks.

“You learned English quite quickly.” Rhidi said, lacing her fingers together as she rested her hands on the bare steel tabletop. As always, there would be Humans sitting on the other side of the window, taking notes, and this was her sign for them to begin. “That is quite clever of you.”

“Language isn’t not’ded hard to learn’ded.” The shorter Lup’Hora said with a wave of her hand. “Give’ded me two more wehks’, and I will have’ded master’ded it more.”

The two opossum Lup’Hora shared a glance, then the male nodded his head. “We are’have find’ded the words’n… hard, to get’ded use’ded to.”

Rhidi smiled to herself; Any race with an elongated mouth had a hard time getting used to forming the words of Human English, but that was always overcome with practice.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll have it down in no time.” Rhidi said politely, then remembered back to what they had first spoken about via drawings and pantomiming. “Are you able to tell me where you are from? Or what you are?”

“Yes!” The shorter one said with a bright smile, her yellow skin flush with happiness. “We are’ded Lup’Hora!”

“You are both, Lup’Hora?” Rhidi asked, confused.

She nodded again. “Yes! I am’ded… ah… Lup’Hora Delga.” 

She gestured to her yellow skin, her ears, and then her face before pointing a finger to the two people beside her. “They’ded Lup’Hora Moludo, bigger and’ded fluffy Lup’Hora.”

Rhidi glanced up at a spot on the wall behind the two where a small hidden screen was, reading the question that those behind the glass wanted to know.

“And you two share the same planet?” Rhidi asked.

“Yes!” The taller female Moludo Lup’Hora said, who was frankly having a terribly hard time trying to figure out why Rhidi kept scowling at her after her eyes would flick to her chest. “We share’ded same planet, same lands’uh.”

“Split’ded… ehm… domination’aded peoples.” The male Moludo said, holding up two fingers side by side. “One for’ded high grass’ded place, one for’ded low.”

Rhidi glanced up, then down. “What are your names?”

“Ti'week!” The Delga Lup’Hora chirped, placing the tips of her fingers to her ears and her blue lips never stopping their smile. “I ‘yam Ti'week, mastur’ engineerum’!”

The male nodded his head slightly again. “Horpin.”

“Pintrist.” The female said, smiling past her very long canines.

“I am Rhidi.” Rhidi said, bowing her own head forward with raised ears. “Nice to meet you.”

The three gave a happy waggle of their shoulders, as if they were shimmying, then laughed to each other.

Another question appeared on the wall, and Rhidi glanced at it.

“What did you just do?” Rhidi asked.

Ti'week raised her brown eyebrows up with pursed, blue lips, but as Rhidi pointed to her shoulders, she laughed again. “Oh! We do’ded shoulder movement when ah… happy? Or uh… celebrat’ded!”

Must be like how Humans clap their hands together, or how Pwah wiggle their fingers at each other. Rhidi thought to herself, then returned to the now. “What were you celebrating?”

“We made’ded first Human greet!” Pintrist giggled out with another shimmy of her shoulders. “We work’ded on it!”

Rhidi felt like sinking her knuckles into the Moludo’s fat, pink nose, and it must have read across her eyes as Pintrist’s ears trembled for a moment, and she stopped moving. 

“I have questions from my command.” Rhidi said, having glanced at the wall again before putting her eyes on the preferred target of Ti'week. “They want to know why you attacked the station.”

Ti’week’s smile faltered for the first time, with Horpin and Pintrist both looking down at the smaller Lup’Hora Delga. Ti’week’s amber eyes looked down at her hands, the finger tips fidgeting against each other as she sought the words she wanted in her known vocabulary.

“It is’ded… compli’cated.” Ti’week murmured, shifting back and forth on her seat with little scoots.

Rhidi blinked at her, her face impassive as she lightly tapped her padded thumbs together.

Ti’week quickly understood that nothing else was coming from Rhidi, and that she was waiting for an actual answer, so her ears gave a twitch as she changed gears.

“We were… run’ded.” Ti’week finally said, leaning forward a few inches at the waist. “Took’ded somethink’ so we could’ded get away.”

Rhidi’s eyes flicked up, then down as her tail swayed behind her. “What did you steal, and who were you running away from?”

“We took’ded… uh… punch de’vice.” Ti’week said, lightly punching a closed fist into her other open hand. “Allow’ded us to move place to place. We place’ded it on a… small ship, allow’ded us to punch from place to place. We find’ded station and… we des’perate.”

Rhidi furrowed her brows.

Normally, refugees were not so highly armed or technologically advanced, especially if running from someone.

“And who were you running from?” Rhidi asked, her ears perked.

Ti’week swallowed, the thoughts behind her amber eyes seeming to go somewhere else for a few moments before they came back into the focus of the now.

“Doch.” Ti’week said quietly. “Doch take’ded planet, start’ded stealink’ Moludo and Delga. Many of us stole’ded puncher, run.”

If Rhidi had not caught herself, she would have let out the most world weary sigh in the stars. 

It explained why they had given up as early as they could, and why they were being so polite now that they had been taken prisoner on an even keel.

They were refugees.

Refugees that were armed to the teeth, but refugees none the less.

Rhidi had been wondering why a fleet research ship had shown up, the hull so hot from rapidly skipping that the metal looked like it was made of water, but it must have been for their little “punch” device.

Rhidi sat back in her chair with an exhale, looked at the words that came across the hidden screen, then back down at the three in front of her. “You are refugees.”

Horpin nodded. “Ref’yewgees.”

“We didn’ded want to get… stole’ded like the others.” Pintrist murmured, hanging her head a little. “We run’ded fast as we coul’ded, take’ded our armor, our weap’uns… our people.”

“There are’ded… maybe two and’ded’a mill’yun of us.” Ti’week said, standing up and gesturing to the wall that she knew a map could be projected on. “I’ken show!”

Without Rhidi’s prompting, the previously marked map came up onto a portion of the long wall behind the three, the shorter Ti’week standing up and pointing up at multiple planets.

“We fan’ded out, big spray.” Ti’week said, gesturing with her splayed hands. “We smallest of them, others’n bigger. I can tell’ded them to stop, to go certain’ded places.”

Rhidi looked at the glass, and words appeared there as well.

“You can send out a mass signal to tell your people to congregate in a singular place?” Rhidi asked, now a little annoyed that she couldn’t be as mad at these people anymore. She could, as they had killed a few of her fellow Droppers, but people will do things like that when they are trying to avoid being pinned into a corner.

Ti’week looked back at Rhidi, her eyebrows raised since she did not understand the big word she had spoken.

“Gather.” Rhidi corrected herself, making such movements with her arms as if herding the air towards herself. “Gather them somewhere.”

Ti’week smiled happily and nodded, waving her hands to the map. “Yes! Yes I can’ded gather, just’ded say where!”

—

—

“There she is.” Carmine said with a snap and point of his fingers, gesturing to the screen. He had thought they would have to wait for quite some time after the meeting, but Hasha was making her move after only a few hours. “She’s hauling ass!”

Kindred popped another cheese puff into her mouth, chewing with wide eyes. “Hoo! Look at her pump those legs! I think she may be making a run directly from her quarters.”

“What is she wearing?” Carmine asked, leaning forward towards his screen.

“Looks like some kind of… wait, is that a ninja costume?!” Kindred cackled, zooming in the figure of Hasha sprinting down the hallway.

“No, no, not a ninja costume, just black robes.” Carmine corrected, tapping the screen. “That’s some Kafyan garb, I’ve seen it before on smugglers. Those puffy black pants and foot wraps keeps them from leaving behind fur, she’s trying to get away without leaving evidence.”

“Door alarm triggered, we have twenty tangos on her six.” A Void Navyman stated boredly, watching his screens with the same kind of contempt that one would an excel sheet. “They are trying to catch her in the hallway, but we have some Pwah and Lilgaran guards getting in their way.”

“Awfully helpful of them.” Carmine chuckled, watching as a Lilgaran honor guard snap turned to the left and tripped multiple Kafya with his tail. “Glad to see our bribe money is actually getting some mileage.”

“As if we needed to bribe these dudes.” Kindred huffed, tossing another cheese puff into her mouth. “The money is barely enough to cover a steak dinner and they took it with a smile. I think they hate the Kafya, if you ask me.”

Carmine nodded his head from side to side. “They are the most numerous in the IDC and have been at the steering wheel for decades. I think everyone has gotten sick of their constant bullying. They’re lucky the other delegates watching our meeting can’t say anything in the open, or aloud.”

“She has arrived to her skiff.” The Void Navyman called out, chewing on his own cowtail candy and pointing to a large screen. “It’s one of the two-man solar sailors for seeing the station, should I go ahead and give her a docking code?”

“Of course, she is an expected guest.” Carmine said grandly, holding out his hands in a wide, welcoming manner. “As are whoever is following her.”

Another Void Navyman on the short-range navigation desk let out a sigh. “I have a visual on a stealth ship coming out of the black, it’s heading for her skiff but she’ll get to us before they get to her.”

“Finally.” Kindred said with a malicious growl, tossing her bag of cheese puffs onto her navigation desk.

“She flies that thing the same way ducks fuck, holy shit.” The short-range navigation Void Navyman hissed, squinting at her own screens.

Carmine raised a brow. “And just how do ducks fuck, Voidman?”

“Violently and with a lot of splashing.” She replied, rapidly typing on her interface as multiple AI arrived on a separate screen. “Kowalski, Skipper, get over there and grab that fucking ship before she crashes into us.”

“On the hop!” Skipper called out, rolling up non-existent sleeves on his digital form. “You heard her Kowalski, let’s take this ship by her hair and make sure she doesn’t bite.”

“You got it, Skipper.” The other AI chirped, the two forms hopping up into the air and then disappearing from view.

The two AI gained rather obvious control of the skiff as it quickly began to fly in a more aggressive, military manner, making a beeline for the Liaison’s own fast attack craft, a well armed ship designed for patrolling and inspecting cargo haulers.

This craft was a bit different than the usual model, obviously, as it was larger, held the same firepower profile as a destroyer, and held a complement of both Void Marines and Void Navymen.

“She’s docking.” A Void Navyman called out, turning around in his chair. “The stealth ship is making moves to grapple the skiff and board us via a tandem, want us to pop some shots at it?”

Carmine shook his head, standing as Kindred did. “No, no need. Let’s keep this quiet.”

“Are you sure you don’t want some Marines with you, sir?” A Void Marine Captain asked, looking rather worried. “Those stealth boats normally carry a Platoon with them, and they are going to want that little purple haired woman back.”

Kindred laughed, punching the Void Marine officer in the shoulder as she strode past easily. “Take a breather there, old man, we have this well in hand.”

The Void Marine Captain frowned, but nodded his head all the same as he went back to his post. “Very well. To sea, to stars.”

“To worlds, to wars.” Carmine answered in return, clapping the Void Marine on the shoulder as he walked past after Kindred.

Carmine and Kindred were halfway down the gangway to the passenger bay when his data-slate tuned up with Skipper’s voice, and he pulled it towards his face to hear the AI better.

“All docked and locked, sir!” Skipper crowed, looking rather proud of himself. “The little badger woman was screaming the entire time, but Kowalski made her a cup of tea and is currently making her more at ease.”

Kindred snorted out a chortle next to Carmine, and the man just rolled his eyes with his own grunt of a laugh. “She’s not a badger, Skipper, she’s a Kafya and she’s not going to have long to enjoy that tea, there’s company coming to dock off of you.”

“Yeah, we saw them.” Skipper said boredly, striding about the data-screen. “I had a mind to sick Kowalski on them, he’s been itching to penetrate a worthy foe for quite some time.”

Carmine’s lips split into a confused, but amused smile. “Let’s… put a pause on the penetrating of anything for now, just lock the skiff down and get that Kafya down the hallway.”

“You got it, sir. Kowalski! Take off your dancing shoes and put your clothes back on, we’re eighty-sixing the penetration!”

Kowalski's voice was distant, but his voice was still picked up by the speakers, as well as the classic, honking squeak of clown shoes being taken off. “This is what we get for asking permission…”

Kindred barked out a giggle, placing a hand to her chest. “Oh, I love these two, can we keep them?”

Carmine looked skyward, begging just for once to have normal AI on a mission; He had put in a good bid a long time ago to enlist some real crackerjack AI, but they apparently went to work for some odd teacher woman.

As the two Human Liaisons made their way down the walkway, the door to the main passenger docking clamp opened.

Hasha came running out of the door, her padded, black cloth wrapped feet thudding down the hallway as she tried to carefully balance a teacup on a saucer.

“She kept the damned tea?” Kindred chuckled, checking the rolls of her sleeves.

“They’re coming!” Hasha screamed out, both Carmine and Kindred admiring her holding onto her dialect despite the stress. “They just docked with my ship and are right behind me!”

Carmine and Kindred took a moment to politely bow forward to Hasha, who did the same out of rigorous instinct.

“It is a pleasure to see you again, Am’linluway Podirr Hasha.” Carmine said with his seldom used ‘kind’ voice, the two leaning back up from their bow. “Am I to understand you are fleeing to this vessel?”

Hasha spun around as shouting was heard behind the docking door to her ship, her teacup rattling in her hands, and then turned back around to Carmine. “Yes!”

“Are you in fear for your safety, life, and or liberties?” Kindred asked next, her tone that of a calm secretary.

Hasha stood there, tea steam drifting in the air across her chest as she considered the words, then nodded. “Yes.”

“Are you in the belief the Kafya behind you are going to kill you?” Carmine asked.

“Yes!” Hasha cried, then let out a warbled exhale of panic as two dozen Kafyan Elder Council Quinrep operatives piled out of the docking door.

“Do you seek protective sanctuary aboard this UAA Void Navy vessel?” Kindred asked, her eyes locked on the new play things coming into view.

“Yes!” Hasha cried out as she ran around behind Carmine and Kindred, poking her head and her tea around Carmine’s hip as the other Kafya began to fan out.

Quinrep operatives were direct, high level political soldiers, with only the fur colors of gold and purple allowed to join the unit. Their uniforms were combat armor, and only combat armor, designated in the colors of whatever ancestral house they came from. Their armor was more formidable than the normal Kafyan soldier, but it still left a lot to be desired when compared to a Human Reg.

A purple furred male stepped forward, his hair shorn close to the head and face viciously. He was brandishing a Trimicta bolt pistol in one of his hands, the other holding a long, wicked claw of a dagger. “Hasha! Give her here!”

Carmine thought his accent was rough, a Kafya that learned English but kept their native accent.

“Afraid we can’t do that gents.” Carmine replied cooly, stepping forward three steps with Kindred as they put Hasha behind them. “She is currently under protection of the Unified American Authority, seeking sanctuary on a listed military vessel.”

“Hasha leaves with us.” The Kafya said, his fingers rolling along the grip of his dagger. “One way, or another.”

“That sounds like a threat, friend.” Kindred said, then slowly rolled her neck along her shoulders, one of her green eyes growing with yellow light as her combat auspeks fired up. “You wouldn’t come onto our nice boat making threats now, would you?”

At her words, twenty four Kafyan Quinrep operatives unsheathed their combat knives, while their leader holstered his pistol and drew an additional knife.

They had orders to make this as quiet as possible, and no pirate would have gotten ahold of a Trimicta pistol of all things.

“Last warning. Give us Hasha, or we will kill both you and your crew.” The Kafya said, taking a low combat stance.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to come and take her.” Carmine said, his voice fading from an easy, friendly tone to a darker, more forboding intonement.

A promise of violence.

The Kafyan Quinrep operatives found their sudden bravado taking a ding as Carmine slowly bent forward, his face contorting into a snarl as he bared his long, reinforced canines. Inch by inch, a pair of long, silvery blades began to protrude from the bottoms of his wrist, one per arm. Blood trickled and ran down his fingers as the weapon wounds opened, splatting wetly to the polished tile deck.

His blades were single edged, his hands resting along the blunt spine of the arm blades while blood continued to pour down his skin as the wounds closed on their own.

Kindred let out an audible hiss as she wrinkled her nose, her yellow eye glowing fever bright as her own blades slid into view from her arms. While Carmine had his installed at the bottoms of his wrists, Kindred’s were longer, double edged blades that protruded from the forearm, coming out along the top of the hand and then sticking out a further foot.

The metal of a Liaison arm blade is one of the best kept secrets of the UAA, a substance known as “Living Metal” that was invented by a joint Skalathir and Drafritti task force. Living metal was a dangerous metal to install, adhering to bone, muscle, and nerves as it is inserted into the body at temperatures where the metal glowed yellow white.

Liaisons undergoing the rite had to be tough, extremely tough, as over half normally died during the process from the pain alone.

The Rite of Living Steel was the first task for a Liaison to undergo, the adamant of mind and body going forward to receive their other augments.

After being installed in the body and encased in biomechanical sheaths amidst the arm, the metal would then relax within the body, reacting to the Liaison’s nervous system and behaving much akin to extremely tough, unyielding meat.

Once the nerves fired and told the living steel to protrude from the body, it would then push forward and cut a slit outwards in the skin, hardening into a completely combat worthy blade as it left the flesh. Most painful of the rite were the Living Steel anchors that attached the blade and the biomechanical sheath to the bones, but it made the blade stronger as a result.

The Living Steel was but one piece of the puzzle when it came to a Liaison, as their eyes were turned into targeting computers, parts of their brain turned into machine, their teeth layered with communication systems, their body honed to perform at their maximum with feats of biomechanical engineering, all without breaking the normal appearance of a Human body.

A secret weapon that walked and talked in the open like a normal person.

To face a Liaison was to not only face a Human, but a Human brought to perform at every extreme level that a Human could be.

A monster, created by the butcherers of iron.

“Liaisons.” One of the Kafya whispered, her eyes wide. “Two Liaisons?!”

The leader barked something back at them in rapid Kafya-hi, then let out a roar, running forward.

The rest of the Kafya took up the yell and rushed forward behind their leader, combat blades held aloft in the air.

Carmine’s own blazing yellow eye triggered the biomechanical accelerators implanted into his muscles and joints, his body turning red hot as it started consuming calories in order to fuel what was to come next.

Kindred was lightly steaming as she surged forward with an ear-splitting scream, her augmented throat hitting a decibel that was both painful to Kafya and Human alike. Ten Kafyan operatives winced, stopped, or clapped their pawed hands to their ears as the sound hit them right in the eardrum, and then Kindred was upon them.

“Beasts of the Nine Two Nine!” Carmine howled as he sped forward in the blink of a Kafyan eye, his arm blades splitting two operatives from shoulder to groin in a single downward swipe of the arms.

The tone of the hallway changed into a horrible concert of panicked screams as Kindred and Carmine ripped through Kafyan bodies like combat daggers through tissue paper, flesh tearing and blood spraying as Living Metal blades grated against gristle and bone.

Going down to seven rapid slashes from Kindred, the Kafyan operative commander went down in the blink of an eye, staggering backwards in gurgling confusion as blood instantly bubbled and frothed at his nose.

When his knees hit the ground and daggers clattered along the deck, three more Kafya fell behind him; Kindred screeched once more as she parried away a dagger and swiped with her arm, the blade cleaving a golden furred woman’s head clean from her shoulders.

The head made two, wide eyed rotations in the air, and in that span of time the Kafyan man standing next to her was missing his arms and the bottom portion of his jaw, his body slamming against the wall of the hallway with a ragged bounce.

Carmine slammed his head into the nose of a purple furred Kafyan man as he tried to pull his Trimicta pistol in a panic, the Human’s augmented neck accelerating his reinforced forehead with such force that it completely compacted the Kafya’s nose.

With a stomach curling crunch of wet bone, the Kafya’s face exploded as teeth and shards of nose bone were shoved forcefully into the brain. Carmine pulled his face from the Kafya’s with a crackling squelch, spitting away flesh and a tooth shard from his lips as the Kafya slowly fell backwards, landing with a heavy thud on the deck.

“Dishu weedo ya’dapinda?!” A golden furred Kafyan man screamed, he and the surviving Kafya rapidly back stepping down the hallway and away from the carnage in front of them.

As he looked around, his ears fell; They had arrived with twenty four Kafya, and now there were only fourteen left. They had only surged forwards a mere few seconds ago, and so many had already fallen.

Some of the dead Kafya sat dead on their heels, bodies still upright in shock, while others were crumpled along the ground, or leaning against the wall on now-stubbed knees.

Kindred growled in her throat as she released the neck of a female Kafya, her canines having punched straight into the spine and crushing the bones, and the body slapped to the blood covered deck in an unceremonious heap.

Carmine and Kindred were soaked in enough blood that it dripped from their chins in fat, purple drops, their clothes stained to such a degree that it looked as if they had slipped and fallen into a bathtub of the stuff.

Made more ridiculous by the fact they had rolled up their sleeves.

“Skipper.” Carmine rumbled with panting breaths, his yellow eye glowing brightly as he eyed the rest of the Quinrep operatives. “Lock the door.”

The gathered Kafya heard the door slam and lock behind them, and they quickly understood that they were no longer boarding this Human vessel.

They were trapped in it.

“All locked up sir.” Skipper said aloud from the data-slate speaker. “Kowalski, roll me up a newspaper and grab my slippers, these naughty doggies made a dookie on the floor and are about to have their noses rubbed in it.”

Kindred like out a mad giggle, her teeth bright white on her purple blood stained face, and eye glowing so balefully yellow that it reflected in the eyes of her soon-to-be victims.

To their credit, and knowing there was no means of escape, the Kafyan operatives charged all at once, hoping to overwhelm the Human Liaisons and possibly get out of there alive.

Unfortunately for them, they learned that the Liaisons had chosen this hallway on purpose.

Living Steel shredded through flesh and bone at such speeds that the Kafya could barely mount a proper offensive, their blades only clashing once or twice with those of the Humans before they found hands, fingers, arms, or legs missing from their bodies. The blades of the Liaisons passed through armor and shield as if they were not there, the ethereal properties of the metal itself seeming to not care about what stood in its way.

It was not that the Kafyan operatives lacked skill, or training for that matter, but they had never faced an enemy that could move as quickly as these Humans were.

The bodies of the Liaisons were nothing more than bloody blurs that trailed two long, glimmering streaks of steel, carrying with them power that they couldn’t stop, no matter how much of their own body they threw into the parries.

Screams of pain were cut short as Kindred swiped her blades through skulls, leaving tongues lulling in still intact lower jaws as she brought her blades back around to punch down into necks.

Combat daggers were smacked away with muted contempt by Carmine as his own victims tried to block his way, only to find he was able to put every ounce of his arm muscle into the strikes, and simply carry down the strike into fear-filled bodies.

Screams, battle cries, and wails of begged forgiveness echoed off the walls as they were silenced, replaced with the sounds of the panting, whining, or gurgling dead. Limp bodies were hitting the blood soaked deck second after second, or sliding weakly down the walls of the hallway as Carmine and Kindred advanced.

As the last Kafyan combat daggers clattered to the deck, their wielder collapsing to his knees and looking down at both of Carmine’s blades stuck in his chest, the purple furred Kafya let out a long, resigned sigh, tilting his head back to look up at Carmine’s honey and single yellow eye.

“A mistake.” The Kafyan whispered, coughing as blood welled up in his throat and leaked out past the corner of his mouth. “M-... mistake.”

“Yes.” Carmine answered him, taking a step back and ripping both blades from the Kafya’s chest. The purple fur hacked blots of blood out into the air in a final breath as the blades left his chest, wobbled back and forth on his knees, then fell forwards, thudding down dead to the deck. Carmine stared down at the Kafya, his tail giving a single, sad wag as life left his flesh. “Yes it was.”

Kindred let out a throaty chuckle as her blades slowly slid back into place on her arms, her red blood mixing with the purple Kafyan blood that soaked her arms. “Twenty four to two, and they still couldn’t manage nothing more than a few cuts on us.”

Carmine’s own blades slid into place as he turned to look behind him at Hasha, his face dripping with purple Kafyan blood.

She was still standing there in her stealth clothing, eyes wide, tea cup rattling on its saucer as she held it purely out of instinct, and it was evident to both Carmine and Kindred’s sensors that she had pissed herself out of terror.

As their eye auspeks powered down, Carmine adjusted his blood soaked tie, clearing his throat as he stepped towards Hasha.

“Miss Hasha, welcome aboard the St. Olga of Kiev. We will now take you above into the offices and get your paperwork sorted, issue you a berth, as well as a change of clothes if you would like.” Carmine said, his features slowly changing back into his normal visage.

Kindred stepped up as well, licking the chunks of hair and flesh away from her teeth before smiling brightly at Hasha. “If you would like, we can find you a civilian berthing on board so you can have some privacy, it comes with its own shower and toilet as well…. Miss Hasha?”

Hasha didn’t reply, her wide eyes still locked on the massacred bodies in front of her, the trails of arterial spray along the walls, and the sheer amount of head pieces that were laying around.

Carmine slowly reached forward, gently taking the rattling teacup and saucer from Hasha’s trembling hands. He handed it off to Kindred, who furrowed her brows at the man and then tossed it over her shoulder with a clatter of crockery.

“Miss Hasha?” Carmine asked, standing directly in front of the metallic purple Kafya and finally gaining her eyes.

“I-I-I-I’m s-s-s-sorry?” Hasha stuttered out past quivering lips, her tail tucked between her piss soaked trousers.

“Let’s get you some clean clothes, hm?” Carmine said cheerfully, slowly steering Hasha by her shoulder. “Just up here, there are some Void Navymen that can help you get sorted. Have you ever had rice pudding? I think you’ll like it, always helped me soothe my nerves.”

Kindred rolled her eyes behind Carmine’s back, then turned to grin over her shoulder at the carnage they had left behind.

“Not too shabby for an old woman of my age.” Kindred murmured to herself, pursing her lips smugly as she followed after Carmine, humming to herself in her throat.

The Lup’Hora armor was strong against munitions, that much was understood, but a shoulder check from a full-speed OBP crushed ribs straight out the back of the suit. The first salvo of strikes from the accelerated limbs of the OBP suits brought the charge to an immediate halt, with multiple taller targets being bowled over backwards or simply dropping from view. This caused the second and third lines of combatants to slam into the first, resulting in a horrible cascade of screams and the sounds of rending flesh.

Rhidi, ducking one of the blades while it made a horrifying buzzing sound as it sailed over the top of her head, plunged the tip of her blade into the groin of what she assumed to be one of the “opossum” people. Her armor accelerated her arm so quickly she punched straight through the suit, which made odd spasming twitches as it failed to stop the blade.

The Lup’Hora froze in surprise and shock as he fell across Rhidi’s armored shoulder, the cough of pain audible from under his helmet.

“Get off of me.” Rhidi snarled, her nose visibly wrinkling from under the remnants of her helmet as she powered on her blade, ripping her arm skyward with a roar of effort.

The orange Fimloi string crackled within the organs of her victim as it sliced cleanly up through his stomach and out through his collar bone, blood pouring out of his helmet as he gave another great gagging cough.

Rhidi, not in the mood to have this bleeding hunk of meat on her armor, backhanded the man off of her. The sideways strike caused his eviscerated body to throw itself to the side in a trail of spilling innards and spasming armor plates, his large intestine and stomach splattering sloppily to the deck of the station.

Those standing behind her first kill took several steps back, their blades brought up defensibly. 

As Morris ripped the arm free of another taller enemy trooper, they all twitched their helmets in time to watch the Human crack the arm’s previous owner across the head with it.

The neck of the trooper made an audible snap as Morris’s strike broke their neck, and they collapsed down onto the ground in a heap. A stream of blood slowly pumped out of the stump, slowly losing gusto as the heart began to steadily lose fluid to pump.

Rhidi shook her head, bloody strands of her hair flicking from side to side as Imridit and Oin joined her flank, Inthur taking the other side with Morris, Alias, and Shasta.

The scant pause was broken as Shorsey barreled into a group of the Lup’Hora fighters, screaming audibly through her own broken helmet.

Over a quarter of her bleeding face was exposed, her merlot colored eyes wide and manic as she collided bodily with two of the closer fighters. 

She whirled as she powered on her gleen-seaxes, shredding through armor and flesh with fanning sprays of the darkly, nearly purple colored blood of her enemies.

The third taller Lup’Hora trooper had thought she was spared of the little Human’s wrath, only to get snatched up by a male Human, his massive armored arms wrapping around her and cracking her spine like a glowstick.

Rhidi ground her armored boots into the decking and sped forward, her gleen-seax held low as everyone else came with her, the Dropper line smashing into the second and third ranks of their enemy with a crackling hum of their war blades.

Rhidi hissed as one of the buzzing combat knives of the Lup’Hora skittered across her breastplate, the knife leaving a deep, half-inch groove along her armor. The blade let out a shriek of metal as it scraped off of her, buzzing off into the air as the Lup’Hora fighter came down into a guard.

She quickly understood that her enemy had been trained to fight in a proper, nearly “pretty” form of knife combat, judging by the guard and footwork..

This did not mesh well with the UAA Army combat style, which was dirty, deliberate, and nearly rounding the corner of disrespectful.

Rhidi’s next victim could only look down at her leg as Rhidi stomped her armored boot through her shin, the white, pearly bone sprouting out of the armor like a frayed tree limb.

Her defensive stance crumbled enough in shock to allow Oin to jump into the air with a great heave of armor, planting both of her armored boots into the chest plate of Rhidi’s target.

Her black tail fluttered as she fell to the ground, but not without crushing the ribs of the enemy trooper and sending her flying backwards nearly ten feet.

To their credit, the enemy troopers on board Station Finland’s Revenge had enjoyed the weight of their charge working several times during their boarding action. The fact they had come up short had caught them by severe surprise, but it was not as horrifying as understanding that they were now intertangled with an enemy that did not mind getting close up and dirty with their foes.

It was around the time that Morris punched one of the yellow skinned, shorter male’s head clean off his shoulders that the enemy truly understood the weight of their mistake.

The Droppers, only losing a few more of their kin due to short range attacks by some of the more brave wielders of the shaped-charge weapons, were gaining confidence by the heart beat. The vibrating blades were having trouble getting past the true armor of their Onslaught Battle Plate, and they had managed to completely blunt the flanking charge of a far more numerous foe.

Their foe equally understood that they were becoming far less numerous by the moment, and they knew these kinds of missions were normally one way trips. Rhidi was advancing on another of the taller Lup'Hora when the opponent quickly threw down her blade, holding up her hands.

“Aptan’shi nah’hei!” She screamed, falling down to a knee with her hands still held high. “Va belqui! Aptan’shi! Apstan’shi nah’hei!”

Rhidi stopped her blade inches away from the female Lup’Hora’s helmeted nose, the orange string of power hissing and crackling in the reflection of her helmet’s visor.

Rhidi could see the wide, terrified eyes underneath the helmet, glowing orange with the promise of the death that was looming.

“Sergeant, we have some starting to surrender.” Rhidi called out, her eyes swiveling to where Sergeant Flores also had a male Lup’Hora falling to his knees, hands raised high.

“Cease fire!” Sergeant Flores screamed, powering down her gleen-seax as dozens of knees started hitting the deck. “Cease fire! Recall your blades!”

Morris, his armored hands wrapped around a Lup’Hora’s neck, let go of his quarry.

The Lup’Hora crashed down to the ground in a heap, weakly holding up his hands while his armored chest pumped and heaved for air.

“Va’ri belqui! Le keuz pasnouz, aptan’shi!” One of the smaller, yellow skinned beings cried out, ripping off his helmet and clasping his hands above his head as he came down in front of Rhidi. “Va reo appelie! Revieve au metra!”

Around the time that Rhidi glowered down at the man while pushing her hair back over her head, the Marines arrived with crates of magazines, sliding into place behind the old cover of the Droppers and laying their rifles on line.

“Droppers, they’re all surrendering." A Marine lieutenant called out, holding a finger to his ear. “Appears they received an all-call.”

Sergeant Flores nodded, reaching down and ripping the helmet off the head of a kneeling Lup’Hora. The male Lup’Hora avoided her gaze, keeping his eyes on the deck and bodies of the dead as his ears softly shook out of fear.

Sergeant Flores took off her own helmet, stomped her armored foot to get the attention of her prisoners, then made a motion of taking off their helmets, tossing the male Lup’Hora’s down to his knees.

Slowly, all the Lup’Hora and their smaller, yellow skinned compatriots pulled off their helmets.

Rhidi was surprised that she felt no pity for these soldiers, but instead felt hot disgust crawl across her skin when she saw their shaking, quaking ears, trembling hands, or the tears welling up in their eyes.

“What soldiers this lot is.” Rhidi muttered ruefully, her voice carrying along on the all-call channel by default as she punted one of their helmets across the waiting bay. “Trembling ears and quaking tails. I had no idea we were fighting children playing at war.”

Chuckling and laughter from both the other Droppers and the Marines behind them echoed through the air, which only made the Lup’Hora and their yellow skinned compatriots bend their necks harder and more shameful tears to fill their eyes.

They were the elite of their peoples, yet they were being laughed at by beings that had reduced them to their knees in a single blunting charge of merciless carnage.

With the station secure and the remnants of the Lup’Horan forces rounded up, they were left with the living members of an entire Brigade that had tried to take the station. Finnish station-trooper losses had been heavy due to the sudden attack, but they were still functional and medical aid was being rendered with rapid regimens.

After doing their own count, eleven Droppers had been killed in action with an additional thirty seven Droppers wounded, including Rhidi. She hadn’t realized it, having assumed it was someone else’s blood, but her forehead and the side of her head had caught multiple shards of fragmentation from her helmet being struck.

Without her being aware, her IB suit had injected her with pain killers, and she had started to feel a bit woozy when the medics finally got around to her.

The Void Marines had taken the brunt of the attack as they pushed ahead to gain some relief for the station-troopers, suffering casualties of their own due to their lack of all-body armor. They gave far more than they had got, though, and their weight of fire had been the main reason the all-call for surrender went out once the flank attack was blunted.

Due to the amount of surrendering enemy troopers, it was agreed upon by command of the battle group that the prisoners would be split up to keep them from having enough of a force to mount a breakout. 

To Rhidi’s surprise, her bandaged head turned to find herself face to face with three familiar faces.

Rhidi squinted her eyes as the first male Lup’Hora, his female compatriot, and the yellow skinned woman with the rocket boots came into view, the three wearing cuffs around their wrists.

She stared at them, and they stared at her, realization dawning on them as Rhidi removed the bottom half of her helmet with a click of it coming apart.

“Neh hapum grisor…” The female Lup’Hora murmured, her eyes wide as she took Rhidi and her scowling face in.

The male Lup’Hora, also sporting some fresh bandages, looked down at the yellow skinned woman. “Bo’re weh lemmet?”

“Li sest pa ley meur lemmet shutter…” The little yellow skinned woman started, eyeing Rhidi with open awe and fascination, “Au’re bovan lin prave lerruero…”

Rhidi clicked her tongue at the three, then pointed down the line with their other fellows that had been assigned to the Wild Hunt. “Go on then, you cry babies.”

They didn’t understand the words, but the tone came through with ringing clarity.

The three bowed their heads and moved on, Rhidi watching them all the while.

After about an hour, as Rhidi and the rest of her Company milled around while waiting for orders, a booming voice cut across the waiting bay, all the heads of the Droppers snapping around to the call.

“1st Wild Hunt!” Drop Officer Duluth bellowed, all of the Droppers quickly turning to his voice on their armored boots and slamming their heels into the deck as they came to attention.

“HOI!” They all thundered as one, startling prisoners and causing them to stop and stare.

Drop Officer Duluth looked worse for wear, his shoulder armor missing and a good amount of nano-foam stuffed into a stomach wound that his armor had failed to stop. His face was speckled with wounds, his hands were still bleeding, and it looked like his right leg had taken three glancing blows from shaped-charge weapons. None of these wounds kept him from his command nor his presence, and he somehow managed to fill the room with First Sergeant Lower at his side.

Even now, after all this time, Rhidi could not help but be in awe at just how tough Humans were.

“At ease!” Drop Officer Duluth eyed them all with eyes caked with dried blood, then smiled. “Damn good fight today!”

“Hoi!” Rhidi called out with her fellow Droppers, all of them grinning or smiling.

“We gave this lot a good reality check,” Drop Officer Duluth began, gesturing to the bodies currently being catalogued in the distance. “Our rifles took a lot to break through their armor, but they couldn’t handle the strength of our arms!”

Once again they all cheered their war cry, and First Sergeant Lower grinned.

“We took some wounded, and we have lost some brothers and sisters, but this is our duty!” Drop Officer Duluth stated, slapping the flat of his fist to his ruined breastplate. “We fall with fire! We meet our enemies with ferocity, and savagery! We carve the path to victory!”

Rhidi screamed “HOI!” with the rest of the Droppers, their voices nearly shaking the floor.

Drop Officer Duluth nudged First Sergeant Lower with an elbow, and the man stepped forward, helmet held under his arm and his face once again with the same set tone as a bored history teacher. His dark blue eyes looked over them, and he smiled when his gaze fell on Rhidi.

The Human’s hands were caked in blood, and Rhidi had heard from multiple Droppers that their First Sergeant had punched both of his fists into the chest of a Lup’Hora commander, ripping the poor fellow in half at the waist and throwing his ruined chest towards his aghast troopers.

“Awards are in order, as well as four field promotions.” First Sergeant Lower began, pulling out a data-slate with his free hand and holding it in front of him, his rifle perched on his back in its magnetic holding slot. “Sergeant Armadi and Private Torson, step forward. Sergeant Polish, Private First Class Mattock, and Private Lawport, step forward.”

Then First Sergeant Lower glanced at Rhidi, and her heart suddenly leapt into her throat.

“Sergeant Flores and Private First Class Rhidi, step forward.”

Rhidi stepped forward, having been wondering why Sergeant Flores had made her stand in front in the first place, and her chest was hammering with nerves. As Drop Officer Duluth was escorted away by Dropper medics, First Sergeant Lower instead took over the ceremony.

“Attention to orders!” First Sergeant Lower bellowed, everyone coming to attention once again with a thunder of armored boots. “The secretary of the UAA Army and Chief of the Dropper Corps has reposed special trust and confidence in the combat excellence, valor, devotion, and battle honors of Private Torson, Private First Class Mattock, Private Lawport, and Private First Class Rhidi. In view of these qualities, their demonstrated abilities of war, and dedicated service to the UAA Army, they are therefore promoted from Private, to Private First Class, Private First Class, to Specialist, Private, to Private First class…” First Sergeant Lower grinned at Rhidi, her eyes as wide as they could go and her ears so erect they hurt. “And Private First Class, to Corporal, effective immediately by Authority of the UAA Army and the Chief office of the Dropper Corps.”

Rhidi was so shocked that she actually broke protocol, turning to look at Sergeant Flores as she stared straight ahead, though her lips held a smug, satisfied smile.

After all, she had the first Kafyan Dropper Corporal under her command.

“Objections for these promotions?” First Sergeant Lower called out, scanning from left to right along the formation. Each NCO called out a negative, and his gaze fell upon Rhidi and her own NCO.

“No, First Sergeant!” Sergeant Flores answered back with a shout as his attention fell upon her.

Rhidi kept staring at Sergeant Flores, and an oddly pride-filled and happy amount of tears started welling around her eyes.

“So it is commanded, and so it shall be!” First Sergeant Lower boomed, putting away his data-slate and then puffing out his blood spattered chest. “Hail, the Iron Victory!”