Copani Story

Voices in the darkness…Surl’s…P’Mela’s…Surl’s…my own…no, that was Surl again…mimicking my voice…making P’Mela laugh…Surl is flirting with P’Mela?…no…he wouldn’t do that…she has no tusks…I remember the girl he likes...

“I really can’t even begin to tell you how silly you look with all your jaws hanging open.” I leaned over and whispered to Surl as he watched a female Appian walk through the large waiting area outside Tor-Bar’s office. He snapped both sets of jaws shut with a double clicking sound and gave me a dirty look.

“I truly pity you my friend because you will never be able to fully appreciate the beauty of a woman with a set of well shaped tusks. She is probably the most beautiful woman in all of creation. And those tusks! She doesn’t use tusk polish – that was really gold jewelry.” He leaned to the side slightly to peer down a row of office cubicles for another glimpse of the woman. He looked back at me with a touch of regret. “The downside is that means she is probably high maintenance. I may have to push the boundaries of our friendship by borrowing large sums of money from you to help me keep her amused.”

“You are one funny Appian. Let’s see you use some of this charming wit on her.” I pointed back down the space between the cubicles. “She is heading our way.”

“Noble lady you grace us with your-” Surl began but the Appian woman cut him off with practiced ease.

“The Council is taking a recess now. Tor-Bar apologizes that the meeting ran longer than he expected and hopes you still wish to see him.” Her eyes left me to flicker briefly toward Surl to include him in the invitation. “If you will please follow me, Dah-Nel.”

“That was masterfully done Surl.” I whispered as we made our way to Tor-Bar’s office.

“You know nothing of how an advanced culture such as ours works, you Drak-San barbarian.”

“A pity Surl-Than does not know either...” The woman, who apparently had excellent hearing, said with an Appian grin as she opened the door to the office for us. She left without entering once we were inside.

“Such tusks…” Surl shook his head appreciatively and turned to Tor-Bar with what passed for a conspiratorial wink among Appians. “You are a fortunate man, Tor-Bar, to not only work with the most beautiful woman in creation but also to have a wife who trusts you working with her otherwise such a beautiful woman surely would have fallen to the assassin's blade.”

“That would be because the woman in question is our daughter, if you take my meaning Surl-Than.” Tor-bar gave Surl a smile that seemed to imply a brain was about to be sucked of a skull. I decided Appians, being civilized like they were, probably had an efficient little machine to do the job.

“Yes sir.” Surl’s skin darkened somewhat as he blushed. I found myself once again wondering how Appians indicated rank. Their uniforms were devoid of rank insignia as far as I could tell and they always referred to one another by name. The most mysterious aspect of it was after a time you no longer wondered - you just seemed to know.

Tor turned away and winked secretly at me as he passed. “I love when I get to do that.”

“Tor-Bar, I think I have a plan for dealing with the current situation.” I began once we were all seated. The mass colonization plan put forth by the j’SonJon Colonization Board had called for the settling of dozens of worlds that the Appians had abandoned during their civil war. The Appians had kept their history to themselves so as far as the Sonjon government knew those worlds had never been colonized. Even if they had known I suspected the Noble Houses would not have cared. On worlds so far from the settled regions of the Empire the colonists would be virtual slaves to the Noble House that had purchased colonization rights.

“I am sure you do Dah-Nel...forgive my mispronunciation...I am sure you do have a plan D’Nel Ghar, but before we can go any further in our relationship there is something else we must attend.” Tor put up a hand as he spoke and exchanged a quick glance with Surl.

“What other matter might this be?”

“I must see proof of your personal bravery and honor in battle.” Tor motioned to a pair of scimitars mounted on a plaque above his desk. “A duel to the death with Appian fighting knives will suffice I should think, although you may choose a larger bladed weapon if you desire.”

I turned to Surl-Than for advice, but he only looked at me with helpless surprise. I turned my head slowly back to Tor-Bar and saw him laughing quietly.

“Forgive me, all the officers in our Navy have had that joke played on them when they graduate from the Military University. You have done so much for our Fleet it seemed a shame for you not to have experienced it.” Tor-Bar stopped laughing and became serious again. “I was telling the truth about the need to see evidence of your personal courage and honor in battle. Surl-Than, as you know, has been making excellent reports but the Ahv-Mah, our ruling council, has decided I must see with my own eyes. The use of a bladed weapon, however, is still an option for you.”

“I believe I know just the bladed weapon to use.” I grinned and glanced over at Surl to see he was as surprised as Tor-Bar. “We still maintain Broadswords in the Imperial inventory.”
 
“If you Son-Jon call this a fighter then I begin to suspect you are compensating for something...” Tor said while he frowned when he first saw a Broadsword deepspace fighter up close. He had to have seen at least a hologram of one before, but it simply did not compare to seeing one close enough to touch it.

“This is a deepspace fighter Tor and it is as small as technology will allow us to make it.” I walked up to the ship and patted its smooth white hull. The hull of a Broadsword class fighter was shaped like a circular lens seventy-two feet in diameter The contours of the upper hull were broken by a central ridge housing the crew and running from the leading edge of the craft to the trailing edge but not protruding beyond either and the two engine/powerplant nacelles ending in squared off vectoring nozzles on either side of the crew compartment. A fin curving up several feet from each nacelle bore the identification markings for the fighter’s mother ship and squadron and contained various emitters and receptors. The leading edges of the ship’s wings contained the recessed muzzles of four NPL cannon while the trailing edge of the hull between the engines contained the steerable emitter of an energy cannon. The smooth underside of the hull was normally only broken by the twin rails used by the launch catapult but for our pre-flight inspection the ship rested on its deployed landing skids with the port and starboard rotary torpedo launchers lowered down from their recessed bays. Much of the internal space of each wing was occupied by the hyperdrive, the shield generators, and the gravity compensators. Gravity compensator was something of a misnomer since what they really compensated for was inertia. They allowed the ship to perform maneuvers that would otherwise crush the crew into unrecognizable pulp. “While it is lethal in a dogfight, it was primarily designed to use pack tactics to destroy larger starships. For the smaller starships the pirates out here are fond of using and single Broadsword has more than enough of an advantage to guarantee a relatively comfortable victory for the fighter crew.”

“So over the course of the next year you plan on using this Broadsword of yours to demonstrate your fighting prowess and honor?” Tor frowned again. A book could be written on the complexity of a frown created with four jaws.

“A much more effective demonstration than I could give sitting safely in the command chair of a mile long battleship.” I grinned up at Tor and he laughed.

“Surl-Than I see you were conservative in your reports.” Tor glanced over to my Appian friend.

“No one would believed me otherwise Tor-Bar.”

“A good point. D’Nel I will accept your word that this is a fighter, but I feel it would be bad luck to fly in something so large that has not been named. It is said that the Holy Void between the Stars swallows unnamed starships and returns their crews to the womb of the Universe.” Tor motioned with one hand to Surl-Than. “If you have no objections I think it would be appropriate for the young Surl-Than to name the ship for us.”

“Thank you D’Nel,” Surl said when I agreed to Tor-Bar’s request. He pursed his mouth, another fascinating expression on face with two sets of jaws, and then bared his teeth in a grin. “She is a beautiful ship. I think the only name that will fit her is Noble Lady.”

“An excellent name Surl-Than,” Tor agreed readily, but then he had no idea which noble
lady Surl was thinking of when he named the ship.

At that moment a klaxon sounded a warning and one of the bridge crew called for the stand-by fighter team to report to the launch deck briefing room. I motioned for Surl and Tor to follow me and led them to the briefing room. There we were given a detailed report on a pirate vessel spotted by a recon drone heading toward an Appian merchant convoy. The pirates were using a modified medium cargo hauler protected by a shell of armor plate and a military grade defense shield. The ship’s energy weapons were only fair to medium in quality and the missile launchers looked like they had been salvaged from a museum. The perfect prey for a deepspace fighter.
 
We came out of our warp jump with the pirate vessel silhouetted against the steady glow of a vast nebular cloud. The convoy was off slightly to our left, visible only on sensors, but almost within missile range of the pirate ship. I pushed the thrust levers forward to maximum acceleration and sent our fighter hurtling toward the converted freighter. The frieghter’s ancient missile launcher flashed repeatedly as the pirate commander emptied the missile tubes. I knew there was no way the limited defenses of the merchants would be able to cope with the onslaught.

“Firing torpedoes at enemy missiles.” I spoke over the intercom to Surl and Tor-Bar as the whine of the launcher bay doors opening crept into the cabin.

“Is that wise? We will only have two torpedoes left for the pirate ship.” Tor asked from where I seated him at the instructor station just behind and below me so he would be able to view both my actions and Surl-Than’s actions at the aft weapons station.

“It will take us a little longer to break down their shields, but the end result will still be a comfortable margin of victory.” I replied as a barrage of torpedoes streaked off into the darkness. The torpedoes shot past the hull of enemy vessel, no doubt causing momentary elation among the crew until they realized the torpedoes were not aimed at their ship. Moments after the first of the enemy missiles vanished in clouds of glowing debris the shuttle bay doors opened and four Hammerhead fighters leapt into the void. “The pirates have fighters now? That’s new…”

“You Drak-San have a curious definition of comfort – almost Appe-Yan!” Tor hissed and clicked his amusement behind me as I double-charged the shields.

Bolts of energy from the pirate’s aft batteries began streaking past us as we entered their maximum range. I nudged the Broadsword over so we were directly aft of the converted cargo hauler and in a defensive blindspot. The aft batteries continued to fire, but only wasted energy. I switched the NPL cannon to fire in individually to maximize the effective rate of fire and squeezed the trigger as we came into range. The glowing orbs from the cannon impacted the ship’s shields in rapid succession denying the enemy the chance to recharge them. I raised the nose of the fighter up to clear the enemy shields and lowered it again so the fighter was skimming along the outer edge of the shield. Bolts of electricity danced back and forth between our shields as the physics of two energy fields in motion came into play. The Broadsword shuddered and lurched downward as one of the enemy fighters took up position behind us.

“Everything okay back there Surl?” I asked over the intercom as the Hammerhead fired another salvo. The drain on our shields indicated the pirates had managed to get their hands on the latest model of the old fighter.

“A few more seconds D’Nel. These clods are working themselves into the most beautiful shot you have ever…there it is!” Surl chuckled as he fired the aft energy cannon. I glanced down at the rear screen and saw the lead Hammerhead nose down abruptly with the forward hull slashed open by the lance of energy. The fighter’s wingman was following to closely and crashed into the tumbling ship forcing them both down into the freighter’s shields. The shields buckled under the load and the wreckage of the spacecraft impacted heavily with the armored hull buckling several of the plates with the force.

“Show off.” I muttered as I pulled the Broadsword up into a wide loop over the pirate ship. The two remaining fighters raced past hoping to score a lucky high angle shot, but neither pilot had the skill. I pointed the nose of the ship back toward the freighter and set the NPL cannon for simultaneous fire before squeezing the trigger. All four cannon fired at once and created gaping holes in the ruptured armored plates. Atmospheric gases began spewing out one of the craters in a gout of flame. I fired the two remaining torpedoes and twisted the fighter away from the doomed pirate ship. On the rear screen more flame gushed out from the open shuttle bay as the torpedoes exploded within the ship. Secondary explosion ruptured more armor plates and soon the pirate ship was a lifeless hulk burning in space. It would stop once there was no more atmosphere within it to leak past the white hot hull components.

The remaining fighters pressed on with their attack. I had a feeling they wore the uniforms of one Noble House or another and knew there was no going home for them. They raced on toward the merchant convoy in the apparent hope of causing as much damage as possible before they perished. I managed to get the trailing fighter within range of my cannon and vaporized it with a quick burst. The lead fighter opened fire on one of the merchant ships, but the ship’s defenses quickly reduced it to so much scrap metal.

We exchanged greetings with the ships in the convoy and then brought the Noble Lady home. The fun we had in that fighter…
 
Onboard the Auroran Science Exploration Ship Ped'Lam

To Surl’s thinking, there was something universal about the noises and screaming coming towards them from around the curve of the corridor. It bore a striking resemblance to a playground full of Appian children. Both Osala and Surl stood firmly, albeit nervously, their weapons were ready to protect themselves and a downed team member. He quickly gave her specific instructions.

Another universal reaction he saw, was Jahnno’s response to the situation and the resulting outcome. Though reptilian, Jahnno was a sentient being, who had rushed to protect his children and the children of his coworkers, despite three well-armed aliens in front of him. And once disaster had been averted, he wasted no time in thanking them and reciprocating.

Surl was assured of the contents of the atmosphere and made a quick decision. He released his helmet and then P’Mela’s, hearing Jahnno’s gasp at their hideous appearance. Surl quickly checked P’Mela with his hand medscanner. “My med scanner power source is being blanketed!” Surl growled in frustration. He checked to make sure her breathing passage was clear, checked her pupils and then her pulse, overhearing Jahnno speaking to someone in Auroran. He had called the medical team on his ship to help. Surl easily scooped up the petite Draksan and demanded “Take us back to our shuttle quickly!”

“But our medical center is much closer!” the Auroran responded. A brief argument ensued but Jahnno’s pleading stalled them long enough for the Auroran medical team to surround them. Since none held weapons, Surl decided to place P’Mela on their antigrav bed and follow them.

He and Osala watched closely as several Aurorans tried to remove her armored suit, obviously hands-on unfamiliar with Sonjon equipment. Frustrated and growling, his jaws clicking, Surl stepped to her and released the locking mechanisms for the suit to come off easily. Surl and Osala kept swapping quick looks, visual communications that confirmed their observations. For a ship this sophisticated, it contained nothing in the medical center any more advanced than Te’Zsing possessed, and probably even inferior. The apparent gap in technology conveyed that the Aurorans had not built this ship on their own!

“She is a Draksan and is in gestation.” Surl told the main doctor when he arrived. The man asked about her symptoms, and both he and Osala told what they knew.” The doctors and attendants were strangely agitated. Surl, after watching them closely was convinced, they had very little information on their database concerning Draksans

“While our doctors examine her, would you like a tour of this vessel?” Jahnno asked Surl.

“Osala, stay with the War....with P’Mela.” Surl thought better of saying her rank in front of the Aurorans. “Yes, I would like a tour, Jahnno.“ Surl decided to use the situation to further his knowledge if possible. As they stepped from the small medical facility, Surl added “I would first like an explanation of its stealth abilities. Most of our sensors are detecting your ship, but a few are not.”

The Auroran scientist looked shock and his musical voice sounded like uncoordinated notes of a musical stringed instrument. “You could see us? You should not have been able to detect us at all.”

Surl clicked his jaws, amused that his ruse had worked. He followed Jahnno to a small room where the Auroran showed him a schematic of the vessel. With apparent enthusiasm, Jahnno explained “The distinctive shape, its natural stealth properties, and its abilities to gather radiation of various types and disperse it efficiently through its layers are natural properties of the shell.” explained Jahnno. “Once we found.....”

“Did you say...shell?” Surl didn’t think he heard correctly.

The Auroran’s response was like large pieces of metal clanging together in a stiff wind. Surl decided it was the equivalent of guffawing laughter. “Yes, Surl, shells! Exoskeletons!. There were once great numbers of this unique species. They roamed the galaxy for perhaps millions of years. The shell formed around the fleshy inner creature as it grew. The creature would move into the larger part of the shell, abandoning its inner layers. The shell is all that is left of the species. We believe the shell’s function was to protect the fleshy species from would be predators both through tactile strength as well as its stealth abilities of the exoskeleton, and to absorb all types of radiation and then diffused it efficiently inside through its shell layers in the form of ambient heating.”

Surl asked “All that is left?“

The scientist answered “Near the original Auroran homeworld is a tri-star pulsar system. We believe this unique species was drawn to the power of the pulsars but once they got too close, the shells were not sufficient at dispersing the sheer volume of radiation given off by three closely aligned stars. The inner fleshy animals died of radiation poisoning, leaving hundreds of shells drifting in space. How long the shells drifted in space is unknown.”

“The doors, hatches, electronics, translation technology is not part of the shell.” Surl corrected Jahnno. “The material and shapes are different. I doubt an interstellar space dweller required an atmosphere and doors, nor lights, medical centers, and changing language displays.”

“Correct, Syrrill.” The scientist attempted his new friend’s name several times. “Scientists studied the shells for years until they devised a way to cut through the material and to install the things our species would require for habitation. This ship is only the first in what we hope will be deep space environments for our people.”

Surl pointed to the inner core and said “I would like to see this area.“ Jahnno agreed readily. As they entered the tight confines of the inner core, Surl took in every detail. He quickly spotted the conundrum which lay at the heart of this strange ship. The original shell’s tight chambers had been bored out and advanced systems added. As he asked questions about the different systems, the Auroran answered freely, and proudly. The core housed the electronics, navigation control, communications and sensors for the vessel. Surl noticed the power sources and examined the engine technology as well as he could, given his limited vocabulary of Auroran. It appeared to have only short range and slow speed capabilities.

“How long have you been using this prototype vessel?”

“This prototype has been operational for 8 solar months, 2 at this planet Makmadi.” Jahnno answered, wondering what the Appian was looking at.

“How many people are on this vessel?”

“We have 4, 397 people on board.” came the surprising answer. Surl nearly knocked himself out by striking his head on the bottom of the engineering casting as he slid out again. "We have our crew and scientists, and all of their families as well as the support services staff and their families.” Jahnno answered fully.

Once again on the vessel tour, Jahnno continued “We are trying to determine ways to synthesize the process and grow the shell material quickly. We estimate this shell took the original entity ten thousand years to grow. Before you saw me, I overheard your team member mentioning the shifting gravity. She is astute. Most of us are unaware that it is gradually shifting. But the shell still grows. And as it grows around its previous chambers.....

“...The gravity axis shifts!” Surll mumbled. P’Mela had been correct about an extremely small variable in the environment, undetectable by others.

They continued their tour and began to talk about the reason for the Aurorans science ship being in orbit around Makmadi. “Several years ago, a virulent strain of an unidentified pathogen was transmitted to an agricultural world inside Auroran space. It spread to several worlds and people got sick. It took years of research to trace the source of the seeds. The original cargo of seeds into Auroran space was purchased from a small shipping company in neutral space. They purchased the cargo from this planet.”

“If you can prove this, then I need proof to take to the Sonjon.” Surl acknowledged.

“I can provide you with all information we’ve gleaned until now.” Jahnno offered. “We would appreciate any help you can give us. This pathogen attacks on a cellular level. Its most easily seen in our eggs. When the eggs are laid, they are pourous so they may be fertilized. But a female infected with the pathogen, lays eggs whose shells are so porous they crumbled like powder when expelled from her womb.” Jahnno’s voice had lost is lilting tone and sounded like a dull bell. “The infected person, with their immune systems comprised, dies a horrible death. The infected eggs that do make it through fertilization and hatching, were showing mutations and horrible defects. Contrary to Auroran belief in life, we have had to develop ways to check eggs before they are fertilized. Those that are....not of quality to fertilize, are destroyed. You can not imagine the repercussions in our society at destroying our own eggs.” Jahnno looked down at the floor and seemed to lose his interest in talking for a while.

“Yet you have shown me science labs where you are testing diseased plants from Makmadi!” Surl snapped angrily, seeing something here that reminded him of the Appian pathogen at work in his own homelands.

“Yes, we bring them inside using the best containment fields in existence. Our protocols are very strenuous here.” Jahnno reassured him.

Surl was seething and nearly growled his next request “I want any and all information you have on this pathogen as well!” Jahnno stepped back several steps at the tone in the alien’s voice and acknowledged.

A soft announcement which seem to float from the walls themselves suddenly filtered around them. “Syrrill-Tonn to medical” it said in very poor Sonjon Standard.
 
Later that year Surl stood beside me outside the massive two story doors leading to the Tarra-Appe-Yan, the large hall in which the Appian government met. He wore the blood red ceremonial uniform of the Appian military complete with an ornately carved breastplate and back plate each made from a single piece of the skull from some particularly huge beast roaming the deep forests of the Appian homeworld. Tor-Bar had earlier expressed his government’s deepest regret for not having a similar set of ceremonial armor to present to me. It seemed finding two of the beasts with skulls the proper size – small enough to fit me in other words – was more difficult than they had imagined.

There was an honor guard with us wearing much the same uniform as Surl only with the addition of polished steel helmets with embossed horns curving around the sides of the helmet and cheek plates fashioned to resemble the horizontal Appian jaws. Each soldier was armed with a thoroughly modern energy pistol as well as the more traditional scimitar and poleaxe. The doors to the Tarra opened majestically outward and the Sergeant-at-Arms called the honor guard to attention in the deep guttural of Appian battle dialect. We marched forward through the dark archway.

When I first stepped into that chamber I felt the weight of countless centuries clutching at my chest like a hand as massive as it was ancient. My head swam with the realization that this place had been built when my people were still living in caves. The enormous circular chamber had a bowl-shaped floor with enough seating for representatives from all across the Appian Alliance. The chamber was surprisingly quiet, empty, and mostly dark and the air was heavy with both the pain of past loss and hope for the future. The majority of the seats in the chamber were empty; they belong to the lost and abandoned worlds of the Alliance and would only be filled when those worlds were reclaimed. Only at the center of the chamber where the seats were full was the room brightly lit. The walls of the circular room were made from blocks of an ancient gray stone and were pierced by eight extremely narrow windows extending from floor to ceiling. Along the walls there were eight mighty fluted columns rising majestically up from the polished stone floor. Each column was topped by a larger than life statue of one of the founders of the Alliance and the ceiling of the room appeared to rest on their shoulders. Their heads rose above the ceiling and into the large dome above the chamber. The figures looked up at a crystal globe each held in one outstretched hand raised up toward the heavens. The globes glowed dimly from within and together created a massive hologram inside the dome of all of Appian space.

The setting sun shone brightly through one of the narrow windows and bathing the pillar across the chamber from the window in a warm yellow light. As the sun set the pillar of light seemed to shrink until finally only the statue at the top of the pillar was lit. The Appian hero wore the helmet and breastplate of a warrior and held his globe in one hand and his scimitar in the other with its tip resting on the ground beside his feet. The Appian text beneath his feet identified him as Soh-Dwar. I found it interesting that he was the only one of the eight figures represented who seemed to have been a military leader. Then the sunlight was gone and we marched in the twilit room, the sound of our footsteps lost in the near darkness, toward the island of light at its center.
At the very center of the representatives seats were two curving tables for those who held seats on the Council and two massive wooden chairs for the dual leaders of the Alliance. One of the chairs was empty but for the badge of office resting on the cushion and the scimitar hanging beside it. My eyes were drawn however to several of the beings seated at the council table – those few were not Appian. They were Draksan.

We reached the center of the room and the Appian woman seated in the second chair rose from her seat. She cradled a long handled axe with a broken blade, the symbol of Appian justice, in one arm. Her voice was deeper than I expected and had an almost musical quality. “The People are gathered to judge the worth of D’Nel Ghar. What have you to say Tor-Bar, Master of Arms for the Appe-Yah?”

“As is dictated by law, I have witnessed the courage and honor of D’Nel Ghar with my own eyes. The reports of his victories are true, if somewhat understated.” Tor-Bar paused as those in the room laughed quietly. “I am but a humble soldier and cannot speak on matters of the spirit. For that you must turn to another.”

“We have heard your judgment Tor-Bar and entered it upon the Scrolls.” The Voice of the People tapped the axe handle on the stone floor and turned to another Appian sitting next to Tor-Bar at the council chamber. “Have you found his spirit Rek-Hath?”

“I searched the Holy Void for his soul…” The blind Appian priest said once he rose. All Appian priests had been born blind. It was considered a sign that which gave birth to all in the Universe still held part of their spirits in the Holy Void between the Stars. I was not sure what the blind priest had done when he stared at me with his sightless eyes, but the resulting headache had lasted for days. “He is…who we knew him to be.”

The silence in the room thickened to become almost tangible. I noticed several of the Appians glanced up toward the statue of Soh-Dwar. After a moment the Voice of the People spoke again.

“So it shall be noted in the Scrolls.” She took a deep breath and lowered her eyes to meet mine. “It is up to you now, D’Nel Ghar. Do what your spirit knows is right.”

It was my turn to take a deep breath now. The Sonjon Empire had become a corrupt thing, a stain that spread through space and twisted all it encountered. On Draksa we lamented because there was nothing we could do to clean this stain from our Universe. Nothing until now.

I stepped forward and picked up the badge resting on the empty chair. No Appian had worn that badge since the end of the civil war that had almost destroyed their civilization nearly a millennia ago. I hung the badge from my formal Draksan uniform and turned to face the crowd.

“Let it be written that on this day the Appe-Yan and the Drak-San are one against the evil darkness and D’Nel Ghar is now Warlord of both our peoples!”

Those gathered cheered loudly, but I hardly heard them.

I was busy planning how to take over one empire and create a new one…
 
Onboard the Auroran Science Exploration Ship Ped'Lam

The voices were distant and not familiar. Slowly, her eyes fluttered and she was looking up at a softly lit irregular shaped ceiling. A machine, about twice the size of her hand, was hovering over her. It moved slowly, with a soft purring sound emanating from it. She realized her helmet was off, and then her armored suit. “Surl?” she said softly. She heard the scrapping of something and Osala was soon next to her, helping her to sit up. “Surl is touring the ship with the Auroran we met.“ Osala said softly.

What happened?” P’Mela had another bout of vertigo and closed her eyes quickly.

“Many things. Luckily, nothing disastrous.” Osala replied. “This is a doctor, P’Mela. He has been examining you. He will not tell me what the problem is. He insists on talking only to you. I won’t leave you though. I don’t trust them.” Osala’s voice had dropped to a low intensity, spoken directly into the WarMaster’s ear.

Large cushions were suddenly thrust behind P’Mela’s head and back, and Osala laid her back in a semi-reclining position. Another of the Aurorans stepped from behind her and stood in front of her. “I think the doctor is a female.” P’Mela whispered up to Osala and saw the Appian’s shocked expression. Though the differences were subtle! This one had deep red eyes, a bony crest with jewelry dangling from some of the prominent projections. Plus it had a sweeping tail. The vestigial webbing between its fingers had been painted elaborately in pale shimmering colors, such as Draksan females wore around their eyes.

“You can wait outside.” P’Mela insisted. Osala started to protest but saw the ‘The Look (as D’Nel had joked in private). D’Nel had joked that ‘The Look’ was worn when she pulled rank on subordinate officers. It was clear she wouldn’t have resistance on this. The female Appian checked her weapon and made sure it was ready to fire. Propping it against a pillow, she wrapped P’Mela’s hand around the firing mechanism, then gave a fearsome glance to the Auroran before stepping outside. The Auroran understood that the Appian clearly meant no harm was to come to this team member.

The door closed behind Osala as the doctor stepped closer and said “You are Draksan and are pregnant with a Draksan child. Is this correct information?” she asked in that same beautiful musical type of voice, only a higher pitch than the first Auroran‘s voice.

“Yes.”

“You were previously pregnant with a Copani child?” the doctor asked. P’Mela’s eyes widened as she gulped. No one could have known this! She thought at first to lie but then she could see it in those hideous red-black eyes - she knew it for sure.

“Can they hear us?” she asked very softly, tilting her head towards the door.

“No. We have complete privacy here.” the female doctor answered.

“Yes, a long time ago, but what does this have to do with.....” her eyes stayed focus in her lap, more out of warding off the vertigo than shame. Though shame was certainly a portion.

“Some Copani carry a recessive virus but all Copani carry a natural antibody against the virus in their DNA. The father of your Copani baby carried the recessive virus and transmitted that to you and your Copani baby. The antibodies I see in your blood, however, could have only come from a Copani baby you carried to term, thanks to a shared fetal blood supply. You would have lived the rest of your life without having a single illness from this virus but once you became pregnant with a Draksan baby.....” her voice trailed off as P’Mela’s eyes snapped up to look harshly at her.

“GO ON!” she snapped.

“The Copani antibody is reacting as if the Draksan fetus you carry is something to attack. Almost in the same way an antihistamine works to fight off histamine in our systems. Thus the antibodies are replicating rapidly and are making you sick. Eventually....” the doctor explained.

Angrily, P‘Mela snapped “It’s normal Draksan pregnancy sickness. And the shifting gravity of your ship gave me extreme vertigo! I fainted.” The Auroran’s preposterous theory didn’t make sense.

The doctor made discordant sounds. “Eventually when the antibodies are strong enough, they will weaken your system to the point at which you will not be able to sustain this pregnancy or any other!” It’s voice was getting more discordant and louder in frustration. “You will miscarry this child unless we give you the....” she stumbled for the correct word. Finally, making soft screeching sounds, she turned to the computer and mumbled something. Quickly, words began to pop onto the small screen. “You will miscarry unless we give you the Rograthm injectin.” Suddenly, she moved and P’Mela pulled the weapon up sharply. But the doctor reached to the small floating display next to her. “Look at this, for your baby’s future. Please!”

P’Mela read the display, not once or twice, but three times. It was in Draksan.

It explained about the “Copan Virus“, the “K-antibodies“ and the symptoms of the illness. She realized she had been having those exact symptoms. They had been getting worse as her gestation furthered. But it could still be a bad pregnancy sickness that would suddenly dissipate on its own.

“You want me to trust you enough to let you give me an injection?” she scoffed.

“No. Trust takes time to build. Though we’ve certainly made some strides here today. But I would not allow a Draksan to give me an injection simply on their word, either! I have transferred the data to an old fashioned data crystal. Take it to your ship, to your medical staff. Have them check your blood for the antibodies. Have them check a drop of the injection against a sample of your blood. Trust your people, not mine. I just don’t want you to lose a baby because I didn’t tell you information I had available! I am a scientist and a doctor. I believe in the discovery and sharing of information, not is suppression!” The doctor’s voice had regained its confidence.

P’Mela reread the display again, especially the part about consequences it the injection was not taken. According to the display, the K-antibodies would attack the lining of the womb, weakening it to a point it could not hold the growing fetus. She would miscarry. The affects would also weaken the womb to a point that no other pregnancy would be likely. She jumped when the small room’s door opened and Surl stormed in.
 
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Onboard the Auroran Science Exploration Ship Ped'Lam

Surl was definitely.........surly “What is happening here?” he demanded to know. “What have you done to my team member?“ This question directed to the doctor.

P’Mela swallowed a smile as she realized he was making them believe he was the commanding officer. No doubt, it was designed to keep her rank - and her - safe from them.

“They say I have a virus. One that will make me miscarry.” P’Mela summarized the main points for Surl. “They have an injection that would kill the virus.”

The doctor began to speak again. “I have already made up the injection and have it rea...“

Surl’s head snapped up and he glared at the doctor. His voice was powerful “You are not giving her any injection.” Looking back down at D’Nel’s lady, he said softly “I don’t trust them. There are things here that are not....as they seem. There are things I don’t yet understand.”

The doctor became angry and stepped up to P’Mela on the opposite side of the bed. “I urge you to go now, have the tests run. Within hours you can give yourself the injection here....” she carefully and slowly pushed a finger towards her stomach and gently touched her rounded abdomen. “...right over your womb, please. And do it as quickly as possible. I am unfamiliar with a Draksan’s physiology.....”

“Precisely!” Surl snarled, the force and protectiveness of it scared even P‘Mela. “They don’t know much, if anything at all, about Draksan physiology. How can they prepare an injection to work properly on you?”

“Aren’t Draksan....Sonjon?” the doctor asked confused, her normal arpeggio voice slowing dramatically. Her longish flat face tilted to one side, causing its thick neck to flex and deeply wrinkling the greenish-charcoal gray skin. It had such an innocent, child like quality about its reaction. The patchwork fabrics of its elegant sheath dress shimmered in the room’s soft lighting.

“NO!” roared Surl. His body was tensing and it was universal body language that the Auroran doctor understood. “Their physiology is close to Sonjon but ‘close’ is not the same ‘as‘. The differences could harm her, not help her!”

The doctor was not a feeble or fearful person. She straightened her lean body to look up at the powerful alien. “It is true. Our medical database has little on Draksans. And I don’t know how far into her gestation cycle the antibodies would become strong enough to trigger the cascade failure of the pregnancy. That is why time is of the essence, Appian! We don‘t have time to study and synthesize. I recommended to her, prior to your interference, that she return to your ship, and have your medical people verify my information.” The doctor turned and grabbed a small box from the desk. She shoved it into Surl’s hands.

“Alright, I will return to my ship and run the tests.” P’Mela glared at Surl, taking back control of the conversation. “If this is correct and if the injection works, I will come back and thank you personally.“ she forced herself to let the weapon rest down by her side. “Will these antibodies and virus affect any future pregnancies I may have?“

“If you take the injection, if will kill all the antibodies and all the virus cells in your system. Then this child and future children would not be affected.” the doctor’s voice had returned to a more pleasant lilting sound.

Osala and Surl stayed closeby as she was moved to the antigrav bed. The doctor stayed next to the bed. The entire procession of Surl, Osala, Jahnno, gravbed with P’Mela, and doctor walked quickly.

Jahnno showed the three back to their shuttle, chattering the entire trip and encouraging them to come back. The closer to the docking bay they got, the better P’Mela began to feel. At the final corridor she was able to walk alone and straight.

“Thank you.” P’Mela took a moment to bow formally to each. Then she, along with Osala’s assistance, got on the shuttle first and slipped into the pilot’s seat. Osala started to argue but knew her own lack of depth perception inside the ship would make it safer for P’Mela to pilot, even weaker and shaky. Once outside the Auroran ship, she would take over.

Jahnno pressed a small box into Surl’s hand as the Appian started to board the shuttle. “It has been an honor meeting an Appian. Though you initially gave me a fright!” Surl let the remark pass without responding in kind. “Inside is the pathogen information you requested, and some more general information I thought you might enjoy. Please return for another visit!” Jahnno seem to be pleading for more contact.

“I can’t promise. But it has been an interesting experience, Jahnno. You are nothing like...I imagined.” Surl said truthfully.

As P’Mela maneuvered them from the Auroran ship, the 3 stayed quiet, trying to remember everything they wished to document about the trip. As soon as they were out of the docking bay, their communications from Te’Zsing started chattering away. “P’Mela! Are you alright?” Te’Zsing’s voice was shrill with panic. He had moved himself as close as possible to the Auroran ship.

“Yes, we are fine as well.” Surl spoke sarcastically to the irritating sentient ship. P’Mela laughed and replied “Yes, Te’Zsing, I am alright. How is D’Nel?”

“D’Nel is fine. He is slowly coming out of the light coma. The medical droid checked him thoroughly approximately an hour ago. His wounds are healing very well.” Te’Zsing’s voice was already returning to a normal level. “He shouldn’t have any new scars to....uh....further detract from his overall appearance.” P’Mela smiled and shook her head at the ship. He never passed an opportunity to belittle D’Nel, even playfully.

"I don't believe he has anything detracting from his appearance." P'Mela responded dreamily, just to annoy her ship. She heard the soft growling sound answering her and smiled. “Prepare an exam room, Te’Zsing. I will tell you more when I arrive.” P’Mela commanded softly, cutting him off before he could ask further questions.

“Prepare a science room for my use, ship.” Surl demanded. “Preferably in the astrometrics lab.”
 
As soon as Osala docked the Appian assault shuttle, P'Mela was off and headed to the medical facilities. She quickly stopped in D'Nel's room but he was still sleeping lightly. Then she went to the next room and locked the door from inside.

"Te'Zsing, I need your help. I have contracted a Copani virus and the antibodies to fight it. I am inserting the data crystal given to me by the Aurorans. On it they have identified the viral genome and the antibodies' as well. I need you to take blood and look for these genomes in my blood. If they are there, the Aurorans have given me an injection which supposedly will eliminate both virus and antibodies from me. I am placing a few drops on a slide for your analysis as well. As soon as your findings are complete, I need to know if I can take this injection safely." P'Mela stated her instructions and turned to leave.

"Are you in immediate danger?" Te'Zsing asked.

"Not me, the baby I carry. The Aurorans said these viral antibodies will destroy my womb's ability to carry the baby to term. I will miscarry. So you must give these tests your utmost priority. I need to know quickly." P'Mela began to tear up and sniffed them back.

Down the corridor, Surl was entering his codes to link the Appian Assault Shuttle's database to Te'Zsing. As he pulled up medical and scientific files, he looked for the information he needed from homeworld. It took time to find the precise data, but he eventually located it deep in high priority secured files. He began the download at one station and moved to the next.

There, he inserted the datacrystal given him by Jahnno. He began the download of the Auroran pathogen data.

Then he went to the third station and pulled up astrometrics. His large fingers flew over the soft surface. He needed to convey everything he could remember from the Auroran ship. He was still working as P'Mela left the exam room next door and went to her quarters.

There she filled her large tub with warm water and Acuupee oil. While it filled, she got a large chilled bottle of fruit juice. Finally she sank into the tub, sighing at the relief of the water and the smell of the oil. She was so thirsty, she drank nearly the whole bottle of fruit juice in one gulp. Then she waited......waited on Te'Zsing's ability to locate the information she needed, and her baby needed.

She wondered if she needed to tell D'Nel about the origins of the virus and antibodies. She knew Surl would give him a full report of their visit, and she would be required to answer his questions. It was not going to be an easy decision to make.

The water in her tub was nearly chilled when Te'Zsing said softly "P'Mela, I have the results. I do detect the antibodies in your blood. They match the genome sequence the Aurorans provided. I am testing the injection sample at the moment. So far, the destruction of virus and antibodies is quick. I wish to wait until completed, to ensure nothing cellular is done to your blood."

P'Mela began to cry softly "Thank you, Thank you very much Te'Zsing! As soon as you know......."

"Of course, My Love. As soon as I know, I will contact you."
 
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After alerting P'Mela, Te'Zsing sent a burst message to ZakRianan:

HIGHEST PRIORITY
File Code:3988ZR232399TeZsing789237234BR

Boro’Ank Zakrianan,

My regards.

1. P'Mela and some of Admiral Ghar's Appian crew have visited an Auroran Science Exploration Ship named "Ped'Lam". It is located near the Sonjon-Auroran frontier at an ag-world called Makmadi. (I included spatial coordinates for your information.) While there, an Auroran scientist gave them a genomic sequencing of the Auroran pathogen. As the Appian downloaded to me, he also downloaded a genomic sequencing of a viral pathogen affecting outlying Appian worlds. I have finished my preliminary review, and believe, they are the same pathogen. Included is a copy of each viral genomic mapping for your computer's review, and my analysis as well. I call your attention to the widely related ways in which these pathogens affect their peoples.

2. I am detecting a strange gravitational distortion near me. I am forwarding the pattern to you as well. Do you recognize this anomaly? I want to be able to defend my crew, but the size of this gravitational distortion is immense. I may need to withdraw from this area, despite P'Mela and D'Nel's orders. My highest orders are to protect my crew at all costs. I am a little afraid. I have never been afraid before. It is unsettling. But I don't think I could stand opposed to something which creates this large a gravitational distortion.

3. P'Mela is currently ill with a virus herself. The Aurorans have identified the virus and given her an injection. We are currently testing the injection to ensure it is safe for her. In precaution, I mapped the viral genomic sequence, and it is similar but not the same virus pathogen affecting Appians and Aurorans. Thankfully!

In conclusion, Boro'Ank, I hope you are well. Admiral Ghar is not like I thought he would be. Quite a likable fellow, though somewhat arrogant and overly confidant. He was gravely injured on another ag-world we visited but is on the mend. We are all relieved that he will recover quickly.

I will continue my information gathering and forward anything of significance to you immediately.

Respectfully,
Te’Zsing
 
I am detecting a strange gravitational distortion near me. I am forwarding the pattern to you as well. Do you recognize this anomaly? I want to be able to defend my crew, but the size of this gravitational distortion is immense. I may need to withdraw from this area, despite P'Mela and D'Nel's orders. My highest orders are to protect my crew at all costs. I am a little afraid. I have never been afraid before. It is unsettling. But I don't think I could stand opposed to something that creates this large a gravitational distortion.

Boro’Ches Mos Galadstin had been in a routine meeting with the remaining Auroran and Decalian Science Chiefs, well, actually listening to the Decalian scientist complain, once again, about conditions aboard the ship, when his bridge crew had alerted him that the Experimental Auroran Science ship, the “Aurora Shell” in orbit around Makmadi, had visitors. It appeared to be a Son’Jon Hunter Killer but did not fit the normal configuration they had in their database. The Boro’Ches ordered them into cloak and also ordered the ship into slow progress mode to hide their arrival and not alert the Hunter Killer. He then took hourly reports as he continued his daily routine, which included listening to the Decalian’s moan and complain. They were the next to be dropped into their chosen research area, but he continuously had to restrain himself from spacing every last one of them immediately.

His ship, a 12-mile long ovoid, was a Science Vessel Mother ship. It transported various members of the Copani Alliance to their scientific research areas. It allowed the ships to be large, but also gave them more room for specific needs by allowing them to leave out the huge jump engines that would be needed otherwise. The ship had three levels, each with two massive entries on each level. The lowest level was also the largest because is housed the “Auroran Shell”, along with all of its accoutrements.

The other two levels each housed two science ships each; currently there were two aboard, the other two deployed. The Decalian’s ship was smaller, holding only a compliment of 456 scientists and techs, with no outboard protuberances. The Auroran vessel was by far the largest, holding a crew of 2344 scientists, techs, and family members.

Mos was on the bottom level, walking and thinking in the huge cavernous expanse when he was hailed by his 2nd. “Boro’Ches, we have come within sensor range of the of the “Auroran Shell” and have come to a dead stop as ordered sir.”

“Hold position and continue Observing Boro’Con, I will be up there in a few minutes.”

“Yes Sir,” he said, about to sign off when he again talked to Mos. “Excuse me Boro’Ches, but a shuttle has just moved from the Shell and is about to dock with the other ship.”

“Thank you, Boro’Con, maintain station and observe.”

Mos hurried to the command deck and checked the displays. He watched as the shuttle entered the larger ship, and then the larger ship pull back a short distance. He went back to his other duties and just about the time he would be going for his evening meal, his 2nd hailed him once again.

“Sir, the other ship has just sent a burst message towards Neutral Space. We managed to intercept the ghost and have decoded and made available at the command console. One thing more sir, it was in Copani Standard.”

Looking at the message displayed for the second time, he thought to himself, “Ghar, P'Mela, Appians. Has to be her. But Ghar and Appians and her, for that matter, are not as interesting as to who is sending the message and who is receiving it. So Zak my old friend we shall meet again soon, I think. You as well P'Mela.”

“Boro’Con,’ he shouted, “get us to the shell quickly, I believe the other ship is about to attack. Stay cloaked until we are directly over the “Auroran Shell” and then de-cloak and board the shell. I want the two Draksan’s alive and unharmed, the others as you see fit.”
 
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P’Mela tried to keep her mind off the waiting. She changed the sheets on her bed to the deep russet silk sheets with a russet woven blanket. The blanket bore the dragon likeness embroidered in metallic threads. Finally, she slipped into the bed and tried to sleep, unsuccessfully. She jumped when Te’Zsing’s soft voice interrupted the mellow music she had chosen for the room. “P’Mela, come to medical. The injection will work. Congratulations.”

She flew from the bed, slipped on D’Nel’s soft soled bedside shoes and headed towards medical. The large shoes slid around on her smaller feet and flipped-flopped about on the ship’s decking making a soft thud sound. Finally, arriving she asked “Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yes, I can show you the statistical results and.....” Te’Zsing patiently offered.

“No need, my friend.” she answered as she opened the small box and retrieved the injection. She climbed onto the medbed and positioned herself as the Auroran doctor had shown her. The hypospray tip was cold but soothing in many ways. It was quickly over. “Te’Zsing, one more favor. I need you and the medbed to do a thorough examination of the baby. I need to know if there are any abnormalities or mutations. A very thorough examination, please.” She laid back and shut her eyes as the bed worked. She fell into a relieved sleep.

“P’Mela, the examination is complete.” Te’Zsing whispered softly and watched through the display as her eyes snapped open. “Your baby is as healthy as a Llohmas!” he said with obvious happiness. As she smiled he added “Apparently, he will be tall like D’Nel. He is certainly long enough at this stage.” The small slit below the display began to spit out a pictorial of the fetus and a datacrystal popped up from the display. “I’ve made some visual records for the two of you.” She quickly looked at the printed picture and laughed. It was finally beginning to feel real.

As she left the small medical room, she ran into Surl leaving the nearby astrometrics lab. “I need a few minutes of your time, P’Mela.” he said seriously. They walked to the nearby galley and began to fix themselves a nighttime snack. They sat at the table and Surl spread the printouts across the surface. “I was bothered by that ship. There is an wide disparity between the ship itself, some of the technology I saw onboard, and the technological level of the Aurorans.” He slid some papers closer. “I believe their technology is slightly inferior to Sonjon and Appian, and the engines in the ship’s core is sub-light speed. I believe their top speed is one-quarter light with some planetary maneuvering. Jahnno told me the ship had been operational for 8 months. Yet at one-quarter light speed, there is no way they could have gotten from the Sonjon border to Makmadi in less than 10 months. So how did the ship get from Auroran space to Makmadi?”

“Obviously, something larger tractored them here?” P’Mela asked.

“I examined that as well.” Surl said and slid more papers around. “I reviewed the shuttle’s speed as we checked their perimeter. Your guess was very close. The shell is just under 10 kilometers long, 4 kilometers wide. Though unable to get readings from the shell, I am guessing that anything big enough to move that shell is.....”

“...Copani!” P’Mela stated unequivocally. Seeing Surl’s look, she smiled “They are allies. The Copani have those gigantic mother ships. I don’t know of anything else in existence large enough to tow an Auroran shell across space at these velocities.”

“Yes, Copani!” Surl answered. “The final proof are the language translators next to the different door openings. Something about them seemed familiar. A long while ago, D’Nel and I brought down a Copani Demon. It soft landed on an asteroid. We followed it in, determined to take prisoners. But the pilot was dead. As we checked the ship, I noticed the control panel. All in Copani. D’Nel and I talked and checked the ship, but when I checked the control panel again, everything on the display was in Sonjon Standard.”

P’Mela nodded her head and looked at the stellar computations that Surl had completed. “Well done, Surl. You know what this means. We simply must visit that ship again.”

“No, P’Mela. We must visit that ship many more times. I want to document as much as we can. Of course, it would be information sharing about the pathogen affecting all of our societies that will make the visits possible. I think we should offer them a joint scientific team here.”

“It would have to be Appian Science. Sonjon Science, Research and Development, falls under N’Fan’s control. The last person we want.” P’Mela added.

“I will contact Jahnno with the communications link he gave me. Arrange for our first long term visit tomorrow. Osala and I will go.....”

“And I will go as well. I owe a thanks to the Auroran doctor.”

“Te’Zsing confirmed?” Surl clicked.

“Yes, I took the injection just a short while ago.” P’Mela smiled at the large Appian. “If Te’Zsing’s projections are correct, I will check clearly of the virus and antibodies within 2 days. I had him check the baby for problems, and he is healthy and strong.”

Surl laid his large hand over hers and patted it soothingly. “I’m very happy for you and D’Nel.” A moment of silence hung between them and Surl added “Isn’t it Draksan tradition for the father to name the baby before its born?”

P’Mela chuckled and answered good-naturedly “Yes. It is our tradition. The father tells the mother, but no one else knows until the naming ceremony. I just hope he picks something nice and not too....too....”

“Larger than life?” Surl completed the sentence, his multiples jaws clicking and popping rapidly. P’Mela laughed and nodded.
 
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Zak woke from his sleep, knowing he had slept but feeling as if his eyes had never shut. He stood, a bit unsteady, and moved to the sonic shower. Feeling just slightly better after the shower he dressed and requested the Boro’Sug join him for the morning meal, along with her 2nd and the report on yesterdays accident. After Aglianan acknowledged his order, he called Oncanon and told him what he wished to do after the service. Oncanon acknowledged his orders and left.

Moving to his ready room, he found Jax and Aglianan there already, partaking of the newly introduced beverage he had found on earth, known as Coffee. When he joined the two, they stood and saluted him, and he returned the salute, telling them that this meeting was strictly informal. The serving droid brought them the food and left, leaving the three eating quietly.

Zak finally broke the silence and requested Aglianan’s report.

“It was purely mechanical failure, Boro’Ank. Several of the other pilots saw his ship go dark, interior and exterior lights went out, and then as they watched, the power came back on just before he hit the ship. If he had had just a bit more time he could have pulled up in time to avoid damage. I have grounded all Demons and have the entire support group inspecting and signing off on all ships. The feeling is that they will be done in 2½ ships days.”

Zak digested the report, nodded and drank his coffee. “After the memorial service I want to do something I saw when I was on earth. It is called a wake. People stand around, drinking intoxicating beverages and eating and talking about the person who died. I think we need something like this to change the mood of the pilots.”

Jax said, “Sounds like a good idea, Boro’Ank, but do we enough of the “drinks” aboard?”

“No, we do not, so I am sending you and Aglianan down, as humans, to buy as much as you think we will need. I would say get at least 6 cases, if not 8. Tell the proprietor of the store you will be having a large number of guests and to mix the cases.”

“Now hurry, the wake is in three hours and you will need time to prepare.”

“Uh, Boro’Ank, will I not stand out?”

“F’anck, yes you will,” Zak said as he realized that Jax has no shape change ability yet, “I will go with her. 15 minutes in the shuttle dock Boro’Sug.”

Aglianan replied then turned to return to her quarters to change.

“Aglianan, do not wear the outfit you wore the last time, I do not think we have time for a fight.”

Despite herself, she laughed at his reference to their last time on the planet.

The trip to earth was uneventful, even when they paid cash for the alcohol they purchased. While the service was being held for Boro’Fan Nanton, Ontanan had most of the serving droids setting up the Command Flight Deck for the wake. When the service was over the pilots and crews wandered in, soon his entire squadron was there and members from all of the groups, most for curiosities sake. Boro’Fan Eunest had been one of the first ones there. She had almost immediately taken a liking to bourbon and had 3 already and, as earthmen were likely to say, “Could feel no pain”, and not much else either.

Zak, Aglianan and Jax were one of the last to come in and each took some food and drink. As they circulated Eunest approached Zak, somewhat unsteady on her feet. She was tall for a female Copani, almost 8 feet tall, and filled out her uniform quite nicely. Her pale yellow skin was flawless and that shade one of the most alluring the Copani possessed. As she approached Zak she was smiling, so when she walked up and faced Zack, almost without raising her head and said, “ARE YOU A FOOL? Do you realize you could have not only killed yourself, but some of the rest of us as well? You almost F’ancking ran into me you bad excuse for a pilot, and a bad example to the rest of us as well.”

She seemed to be taking a breath when Aglianan stepped in front Zak and pulled the taller woman down to her face and screamed, “SHUT YOUR MOUTH Boro’Fan, apologize to the Boro’Ank and put yourself on report.”

“Yes, Sir!” She said, suddenly very sober, “right away sir.”

“Boro’Fan, stand at ease and wait.” Taking Aglianan aside, Zak smiled and said to her, “I deserved that Aglianan, I did exactly what she said I did. May I handle this?”

“Of course Zak, but be careful. She is one of my best pilots, but is also a giant ache between my eyes.”

“Thank you Aglianan, please send her to me.”

The female approached him and stopped the required distance, saluting and then approaching.

“Eunest is it?” She nodded and he continued, “you were absolutely correct and I owe you and your crewmates an apology.”

“THE Boro’Ank apologizing, to me, oh by Hovath, I am probably doomed here also.” The Boro’Ank asking her if she would like another drink interrupted her thoughts. She accepted and they found a table and Zak started, “You said something a moment ago Boro'Fan, “I am probably doomed here also”, what did you mean.

“By Horvath, did I say that aloud,” and Zak nodded, smiling at her. Eunest sank a little lower in her chair that made Zak laugh.

“Do not be embarrassed Eunest, please. NOW, tell me what you meant.”

Eunest spoke hesitantly, “Well sir, about 400 years ago I was attending a mandatory party at the base commanders home. The party was to honor the top pilot from each of the bases squadron’s. There were many people there, and many different types of beverages, one of them being Declan Werberry nectar. Well, to make a long story short, sir, I had several glasses, causing my judgment to become impaired, well actually it became non-existent. I began to make comments about the various guests who had attended to my fellow pilots. I was getting several laughs when I said something particularly pointed about the Base Commanders mate and no one laughed. I noticed that all of them were standing at attention and I, still laughing at what I said knew who was there when I turned. Needless to say, I was brought up on charges and sentenced to stasis. I woke here and I have just done it once again, have I not?”

Zak could not contain himself any longer and began to laugh, little chuckles at first, growing into loud laughs. Everyone close enough to hear him glanced at him and saw him take on a blue tinge while Eunest was turning green with embarrassment. “Eunest, thank you. I haven’t enjoyed myself like this in too long a time.” Not realizing what he had done, Zack had covered Eunest’s hand with his, his long fingers reaching around to her palm and his fingertips pressing into her palm. As he did so her head snapped up, looking straight at him, eyes meeting eyes. Zak, realizing what he had done, almost pulled his hand away from hers, but realized he didn’t want to.

“I am sorry Eunest, I am being very discourteous to you, but I did not consciously do that, but I also do not regret it.”

Eunest’s skin was returning to it’s natural hue when she said, softly, “I do not move my hand away Boro’Ank, because I do not wish to either.” Silent words passed between the two and, as they parted, Zak whispered into her ear. She simply nodded, and walked away to join the others. Zak watched her and saw her accepting, and giving, much good-natured humor at her own expense.

Later that ships evening Zak and Eunest lay face to face, their Menoch Sac's still open, but relaxing. Remembering Aglianan’s exit from his bed, he hugged Eunest to him and began.

"Eunest, I have no idea where this is going, but I would like it to go wherever it leads us."

“I do also Zak, where ever it takes us is where Horvath wants it to go.”
 
My first moments of full consciousness were filled by Enna providing me with a detailed report on all that had transpired since we left Chahan. Her report was quite thorough which left me feeling somewhat puzzled since she had apparently remained close by my sick bed the entire time. When she finished speaking I questioned her on it.

“Te’Zsing kept me informed Warlord.” Enna smiled wistfully, an expression which reminded me of a predator gazing upon a large group of slothful herdbeasts. I think it was the fangs on the inner jaw that did it. “He really is a sweet AI personality.”

“What?”

“My primary specialty is Advanced Theoretical Computer Design and Programming Warlord. One of my reasons for volunteering for this duty was that I would have the opportunity to speak with Te’Zsing. I can learn much about the programming behind his intelligence just by speaking with him.” Enna paused and smiled shyly at me. “He has even let me experiment with my performance enhancement protocols on him.”

“You experimented on him? I don’t think-”

“I have run these protocols many times on less advanced computers Warlord, so I was certain I would not harm Te’Zsing. There was of course an added measure of safety in that I need to have the diagnostic programs provide me with real time data while I am manually reprogramming-”

“Hold on one minute. Te’Zsing let you reprogram him?”

“Only the subroutines governing power flow and performance optimization Warlord. Due to the complex nature of advanced computer systems such as Te’Zsing, the computer is often forced to run at a level below the true capabilities of its systems. I have found a way to boost performance by as much as 150 percent, but again due to the complexities of the system the performance boost is always short lived.” Enna sighed and then brightened considerably. “That was why I was eager to work with a true sentient computer, I had hoped that with the computer’s assistance I could get the performance boost to last appreciably longer. Te’Zsing was rather nervous and uncertain about it at first of course, but I talked him through it the first few times. As he grew more confident in the procedure he took a more active role it the process and we were able to make the effect last for several minutes before we had to let the processors cool and begin again.”

“I see...” I rose and moved to don the uniform folded neatly next to the bed. Enna kept talking as I dressed.

“An unexpected side benefit of the procedure was a remarkable improvement in Te’Zsing’s attitude. He was much more helpful in providing with updates on what was happening elsewhere on the ship, particularly while we were waiting for his processors to cool.”

“You don’t say?” I really wished she had not. She pressed mercilessly on and tried to lace my boots faster.

“I was also surprised to find that when I provided him with positive verbal feedback the performance increases went up by a few more percentage points.”

“Enna, promise me you will never speak to P’Mela about this.”

Enna looked at me in startled confusion. “You do not think she would be pleased Warlord?”

“Ah...Draksan females can be somewhat sensitive about other people reprogramming their computers for temporary increases in performance.”

“I see...you Draksan are a curious people.”

“Yes. I think I will head up to the galley for something to eat. I’ll talk with you later.” I slipped out the medbay door and into the main corridor. I ran into Surl just outside the door. “You really need to encourage Enna to find some more hobbies.”

“Has she been talking to you about computer programming?” Surl chuckled and then continued. “She is very passionate about it.”

“Passionate...yes, you could say that.” I shuddered slightly and looked up at Surl. “I think it is time I told P’Mela a few things.”
 
Aglianan watched Zak leave with her pilot and muttered as the door closed behind them, "Well that was quick."

"Jealous?" Jax whispered in her ear.

Lia jumped slightly, the last time she had observed her dearest friend, he had been across the room talking to the other officers. "No just...disappointed," she replied. "I really felt he was different from the rest of the aristocracy," she sighed.

Jax made their excuses to the others and ushered Aglianan out, keeping his hand on her elbow. Once they were completely alone in the corriders, Lia shook her head and gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "I can really pick them, can't I? First Ravinian, now Zak." Lia thought to herself that first Zak told her there was someone else, then at the first opportunity finds another female to jump into bed with.

"There is a difference," Jax said. "The Boro'Ank would never betray us or his people."

"Let's hope not," Lia shrugged.

"Lia, you don't know what's going on with him. There may be a good reason for what he does. I really think you should try and not be so judgemental. I realize that what Ravinian did to you...to all of us...has eroded your trust, but..."

"Fine Jax," Lia growled. "He can work his way through the entire female population for all I care, as long as he can do it without ruining morale."

"Dammit Lia! This bitterness is not becoming on you," Jax snapped.

"Having nearly two hundred years of our lives stolen takes its toll!"

"Then direct that anger to where it belongs...against the court that believed the lies about us and against Ravinian for his betrayal," Jax sighed. "That's what I'm doing."

"What? What do you mean?" Lia asked curiously, her anger deflated.

"I've been doing some research and found that there is no record of our conviction or sentence in any of the databases" he frowned. He did not tell her he had also been looking for information on Ravinian.

They came to the door of her quarters and went inside. "Stylian, your services will not be needed tonight," Lia ordered.

"Very good, Boro'Sug," the droid nodded and left them alone.

"Jax, the only possible explanation for that is they eventually found out we were innocent."

"Then why keep us in stasis?" Jax asked.

"Knowing our courts, it was because they would have been too embarassed to admit their mistake. So they just silently slipped our stasis pods in with those who were making the long trip here to be revived with the rest when we were needed for this war. The fact that they did send us aboard this ship and the records have been expunged proves it."

"I'm not so certain, Lia."

"Which brings me to point number two. Zak may be callous, but he's not stupid. If he thought there was a chance in Helcathia that we were guilty of betraying our people, he would never have placed us in positions as officers in his fleet. As First Prince, he would have access to the records so he knows we had to be innocent."

"Good points" Jax nodded thoughtfully. "I have to admire the courts ingenuity. They wait until a war is coming in the hopes it will sidetrack us and our families from making their stupidity in falsely sentencing an entire squadron known to the rest of the Copani. And if many of us are killed in the war, it's just that many less to accuse them."

"Now look who's being the cynic?" Lia teased.

Jax moved closer and wrapped his arms around Aglianan. "That's why we have each other, to keep one another positive when things are bad."

Lia stiffened then leaned her head against his chest wearily. "Jax, you know we can't do this."

"Why not? After all, the Boro'Ank himself..."

"That is about the WORST possible example you could use," Lia sputtered in laughter.

"Ok then how about this," Jax said softly, pulling her away from him. "There's a war coming, Lia. You know as well as I do that one or both of us may not survive. You've already said that we've had nearly two centuries of our lives stolen from us. And I'm not willing to waste another damn minute to take back our lives. Our lives together, Lia. There is one more argument for us," he said softly.

"What's that?"

"My parents and your father wants it for us."

"What!?"

"Do you remember your graduation from the academy?" he asked.

"Of course. Your parents came with you because you got leave to attend. Then we all went to my dad's for dinner," she nodded. "Then we left for our own private celebration," she grinned.

"Yes but do you also remember that just before you and I left, I had to go back inside because I'd left my jacket in the kitchen?" When she frowned in thought, then finally nodded, he continued. "I slipped inside and overheard my parents and your father discussing what their mutual grandchild would be like," he chuckled.

"You're joking! You never told me that!"

"No, I'm serious. I just never told you because we were both so young and focussed on our careers," he replied. Jax watched Lia's face closely, knowing he was winning this battle, then he saw the sadness in her eyes. He smiled, knowing the cause and reached inside his dress uniform jacket. He pulled out a data crystal. "I also have a surprise for you that I think will put the smile back on your face."

"Your parents? You've heard news of them?" she asked.

"Yes and they are still living on Copan," he replied. "You're not going to ask about your own father?"

"My...dad?" she whispered. "Is he..."

"He's alive, Lia," he answered quickly, knowing she had dared not hope. He gave her the crystal, explaining the trail he'd had to follow to find Mos.

Aglianan greedily watched the data on her screen, then reached into her desk for the small crystal. Each of the prisoners had been allowed to carry one small pack of personal items into stasis and this was one of her most prized possessions. She tapped the crystal and watched a hologram recording spring to life. She watched her ten-year-old self running across the grass and jumping into her father's arms. Then both turned to the holo-recorder, smiling and laughing. She closed her eyes, picturing the conversation that followed.

Mos swung his daughter around in his arms, hugging her tightly to him. "Lia, my beautiful little princess," he laughed happily.

Lia reared back, framing his face in her hands. "Daddy! I am not a princess. Princesses are royalty and royalty is yucky!" she exclaimed.

Mos lowered himself to the ground, still holding his precious child. He was startled at her words, knowing he'd always been careful not to speak of his past in front of the inquisitive child. "Lia, where did you hear that?"

Lia frowned in heavy concentration before shaking her head. "I don't remember, I just know." She rested her head on his shoulder, tracing the medal on his uniform jacket. "Can't I just be your Lia? Your daughter?"

"You will always ALWAYS be my daughter, baby," Mos said, hugging her fiercely. That's where Lia's memory of that day stopped. She had no idea his heart had been so full of revenge, even as he'd gone after the tiny infant that P'Mela had rejected. He knew that it would anger P'Mela to find out that Mos had taken their daughter to raise. But once he'd looked into Aglianan's eyes, he'd completely fallen under her spell. The revenge and the hatred began to vanish into thin air, the beginnings of regret for a lost friendship edging around his consciousness. Although his actions of his past saddened him, he would be forever grateful to P'Mela for this beautiful gift that he planned to always treasure.

"Lia?"

"Lia!"

"Oh Jax," Lia whispered, opening her eyes and finding herself in her quarters. She stood up and wrapped her arms around Jax. "That was the most wonderful gift you could have given me."

Jax dipped his head, capturing her mouth in a gentle kiss. He was surprised when Lia deepened the kiss, her hands moving to caress his chest beneath his uniform. His hands went to her shoulders, pulling her away slightly. What he saw in her eyes, told him all he wanted to know. She was not giving herself to him out of gratitude, but because she finally acknowledged they belonged to one another. He led her to her bed, laying down beside her. Although they'd had no formal life bonding ceremony yet, they loved each other fully and completely. Only death would separate them now and they both had no intention of allowing even that to happen for a long time to come.
 
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She slept wrapped in his arms, his hand across her Menoch Sac, her back snuggled up to his front. She had just fallen into slumber and he was fast reaching that place when he felt her join him.

“Hello Nuereen”

”Hello My Brother”, his sister answered, “Mother has requested that I tell you that father’s time is near and you need return to Copan to assume the throne of the Alliance.”

“I told Mother I could not, that I was committed here.”

”She understands Zak’nia, but you have an obligation to the Alliance, and all Copani, to attend father and assume the throne. He needs you to take it from him while he still lives. In those times that he is lucid, he feels it will allow him entry into Horvath’s Kingdom if he ascends without the burden of the crown.”

Zack waged a short intense battle with himself and, cognizant of Eunest’s warmth against his skin, finally answered his sister. “I will be there as soon as possible My Sister, but it will take time to prepare to move the ship, at least a part of a ships day.”

”Thank you My Brother, I will tell Mother, and Father during one of his lucid moments. Farewell My Brother, it will be good to see you once more.”

Zak felt the light kiss on his cheek and then she was gone before he could respond.

He slid quietly out of bed, glancing down at Eunest’s sleeping form and wondering how she would react when she found out who he really was. For that matter, what would the rest of them think and do. “F’anck”, he said to himself. He moved into the office part of his suite and called Ontanan.

“Yes Sir, I am here.”, Ontanan answered

“Where are Aglianan and Jax?”

“In Aglianan’s quarters, Boro’Ank, together.”

“Have Stylian wake the Boro'Sug and have her report to me on the command deck.”

“Yes Sir.”

A few minutes later, without waking Eunest, Zak entered the command deck and sat, waiting for Aglianan, contemplating what was about to happen. Boro'Sug Galadstin came on deck, finishing buttoning her uniform. Seeing Zak in bedclothes made her smile. “Yes Boro'Ank, what can I do for you at this early hour?”

Getting right to the point, Zak said, “My Father is dying, Aglianan, and I must return to Copan immediately. That means taking this ship back. I want all Demons aboard and the ship ready for flight immediately. His death is imminent and I must be there before.”

“Of course Sir, may I be excused to begin preparations?”

“Yes, but first I must I must talk to you, and I am in terrible need of a cup of coffee. Join me, please.” He turned and moved towards the hatch, on his way to the galley. A fresh pot of coffee was waiting and as he sipped his coffee he put his thoughts together. Aglianan waited patiently and when he began she was taken aback.

“The Boro’Ches will probably not be returning Aglianan, I am convinced of that and I have resigned myself to that. I am aware of your involvement with Jax, but you must keep your private life separate from your public one. Although, like every other closed environment, those who don’t know are probably asleep.”

Aglianan chuckled and then asked, “When you are crowned do you intend to continue as our commander or stay on Copan?

“I will stay on Copan for a brief time, enough to transition from my Father to myself. After the Crowning Ceremony I will return and we will once again go back to Earth. I cannot stress the importance of maintaining our standard of training. The Son’Jon and Appians will not care that I am King, they will only attempt to capture and use me.”

“I know Sir, would it not be wise to stay on Copan until we have solved the issue?”

“No, no it would not. I made the commitment and I intend to fulfill it.”

Aglianan stood and, in a loss of protocol, bent and hugged the Boro'Ank, saying “Congratulations Your Highness, may your life be long and joyful and may I say I wish you had come to believe your thoughts about P’Mela before we became only shipmates.”

Turning and going to the hatchway, she heard Zak remark softly, almost inaudible, “So do I, Lia, so do I.”

Zak returned to the Command Deck, connecting into the command COM and, as the lights entered his eyes, he began the engine start sequence. They had been at rest for such a long time the self-diagnostics programs began running, adding to the time necessary to start. He had grown lax of late and all of this should have been done already but hadn’t been. He used the time to contact Lovan and tell him what was happening and that he would return as soon as possible.

A light began flashing in the lower corner of his vision, indicating that all diagnostics had run. The light was yellow gold indicating a slight problem had been found and was under repair. The estimate was 30 ship minutes and they could then get under way. He disconnected from the Com Unit and returned to his quarters. He was entering his quarters just as Eunest had finished dressing. His smile came automatically; something that surprised him yet also pleased him. Her smile indicated the same for her and they moved into each other’s arms, a gentle hug and kiss.

Quickly Zack explained what was happening, not quite knowing how to tell her about himself. Eunest solved that problem by saying, “So, you are soon to be King your highness. I shall bid you farewell then, since you will not wish to associate with a commoner when you attain the throne.”

Zak looked at her incredulously, and then saying softly, “I don’t think so Eunest, I will associate with anyone I choose to, that is one of the advantages of being the King.” A wide grin on his face showed he meant it and Eunest moved up to him and rubbed his ears, then kissed him.

“I must join my squadron Zak, but may I join you later?” His vigorous nod was all the answer she required and she left, humming to herself.

When Zak returned to the Command Deck and was again part of the comm. System, he started the engines, notifying all aboard that the ship would be moving out of the Solar System and then, using their Star Jjump engines, they would be moving directly to Copan through Neutral Territory and Son’Jon space to the home world.

A white light flashed and he greeted Aglianan. She attempted to remind him of the agreements among the four empires and he said, quietly to her, “My father is dying,” as if that was all the explanation necessary.

When they had moved past the ninth planet he sent Lovan a short message, reassuring him that they would soon return. Then, as they passed Vulcan, the asteroid or planet depending on whom you talked to, he engaged the jump engines and began the journey across their galaxy to his home. He instructed the ships computer to maintain the course, maneuvering around any obstacle and then returning to course.

He disconnected from the comm. System and stood, stretching his body and listening to it complain. He left the command deck and began to wander the around the command hanger and moving to the area where “Forcant’s Son” was being repaired. Much progress had been made and it would be flyable again soon. He stared sadly at his other "female" and what he had done to it. He felt he was close to tears until he was pulled away by Oncanon requesting authority to repaint the ship. Of course he refused, telling the Robot to only paint those areas exposed to the bare metal.

He walked away then, to continue wandering the deck.
 
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Boro’Ches Mos Galadstin sat amidst the monitors in his small office off the command deck, listening once again to the burst message aimed at a point in Neutral Space from Te’Zsing to Zakrianan. He had heard rumors of the King being gravely ill and if that were the case then Zak would have to return to Copan, allowing him the opportunity to make the connection that had been lost hundreds of years ago.

Over the years he had mellowed, his mind placing all the blame on P'Mela and what he had perceived as her quest for power. He had come to the conclusion that she had duped Zak and that Horvath had had his revenge on her. Unfortunately he was too proud to make the first move and the two old friends remained estranged.

His mind drifted back to several years after he had broken off from Zak. When he had found out about the Copani Huntress after one of his close friends had been murdered by her, he made it his sole goal to dispose of her. He had requested, and been granted, the assignment of finding and ending this threat. He had been outfitted with a new type of ship, one large enough to house his battle worn Demon. That the Demon had been completely reworked and was as up to date as one just built in the ship works on Copan lV. His ship could be cloaked and with the new technology just developed, his Demon could leave and enter the shielded ship without the larger craft having to de-cloak, allowing him to use the Demon without exposing his real ship.

He had spent weeks upon weeks examining and correlating all data base records of her exploits. She was using a modified j’Son’Jon Hunter Killer, one outfitted with a brand new class of ships computer that had a cognitive brain. The brain had the ability to learn and integrate its acquired knowledge. Essentially, the Son’Jon had discovered a method of using biologics and high-density crystal storage to create an almost Son’Jon like mind for the ships central core.

He had been traveling between Copan, after a long well deserved leave, to a backwater planet just inside the Neutral Territories between the Copani Alliance and the Appian Empire when he intercepted a distress call from a Copani transport ship. He got the coordinates and found he was very close. He pushed his non-jump engines to their max and arrived, cloaked, approximately 2 ship hours later. He found a lone escape pod, the crewman dead, burned when the pod had been fired upon with a deliberate low power blast, designed to do exactly what it did do, cook the person inside the pod.

Mos reached over and lifted the safety cover off a rarely used control. As soon as he activated the control, a low beeping sound was heard, and a flashing dot appeared on the screen just a short ways from his ship. Moving slowly, Mos snagged the Disaster Crystal, pulling it in and plugging it into the reader.

“Copani Transport Saldor requesting assistance. We exited jump and were fired upon by a Son’Jon Hunter Killer. We do not know why, we are in Neutral Territory. Have ordered all crew to escape pods and will exit myself when I finish this. I transmitted that we were unarmed and would surrender our cargo. WHAT! On Horvath’s grave, the ship is firing on the escape pods. I must go. I will leave recording on so that an accurate record of the destruction of the ship is made.” Footsteps were heard and the escape alarm sounded as the pod blasted away from the doomed ship. Suddenly the crystal began again. “Boro’Mcon HanPater back. Have left the ship in the last remaining pod and hopefully hidden by the bulk of the transport from the Hunter Killer. As I said there was no reason…. OH Horvath, they have found me.” The recording continued for a few moments, the screams of the burning Copani finally shut off by Mos.

He sent a report, along with a coded copy of the crystal at the same time he was scanning for signs of the other ship. He found a faint trace but it was so slight that he couldn’t even be sure it was the hunter killer.

He began to amass a huge amount of data, so much that he had a second computer installed and used it to correlate all data he had gathered and all that was being gathered. He located other Hunter Killers but they seemed ordinary and were more troublesome insects than real threats.

During a sleep period about 3 ships years after he began to collect data, the special alarm bells connected to the analytical computer woke him with a start. He raced to his office off the bridge and saw the letters flashing on the screen, “CORELATION FOUND”. Rather than just clearing the screen and reading the analysis, he went back to his cabin, dressed and made a pot of Hot Tessur, taking it back to the office where he sat and poured a cup of the hot bitter brew. As the flashing letters disappeared, several pages of data, then charts and finally a synopsis of the previous analysis replaced them.

“OH F’ANHK”, he shouted into the air of the office. Finally a pattern had emerged. Almost 2/3’s of the ships destroyed had been coming out of Star Jump, when they were vulnerable. Nothing in Copani science had been able to solve the problem of vulnerability between jump and normal space. He sent a report back to Copan, getting acknowledgement and nothing else. He had suggested that once Jump had been achieved the course settings be modified to allow exit from jump into space as far as practical from the original destination. This would allow shields to be raised before any ship could attack and then it could fight back.

The other correlative data he found was the pattern of destination choices. It was so simple that it was almost impossible to detect. It was based on the Draksa Solar System and it’s arrangement of planets. The ship would travel a selected pattern of Solar Systems based on the Draksa planetary system. Laying the Draksa system chart on a chart of the sector, each planet would represent a solar system, which would be where she laid in wait after determining its destination and using the Son’Jon Time Dilation engines.

Mos headed back to the Copani Alliance and made a formal request for special armament and an available transport ship. Request for the armament was granted based on his proposal. The transport ship wasn’t available and would be dispatched as soon as he could supply the co-ordinates. Without telling anyone his plans, Mos set course for the Son’Jon Empire, dropping out of Star Drive behind the outer most planet in the system, using the giant rock as a shield. Making several adjustments and setting the ship on automatics, he flew his Demon towards the center of the system, to the heavier populated planets. He had been detected and a Draksan cruiser was dispatched and chased him through the system. Because it was such a small ship and alone, the cruiser did not think it much of a threat and chased it, the Demon keeping the larger ship at the distance he needed, slowing enough so that the cruiser would continue to chase it. As he neared the giant planet, he took a wide arc, as if he would circle it and the cruiser followed suit. As the cruiser rounded the planet, it came into range of Mos’s larger ship and it fired the Light Exciter Cannon’s, cleanly cutting the rear of the ship from the front, separating the engines from rest of the ship. The ship adjusted and fired once again, slicing the ship from nose to where it had been sliced away from the engines, effectively opening the ship to the cold of space. The larger ship pulled alongside the remainder of the cruiser and scanned for life signs, finding a cluster of them in the rear of the tail. The larger ship adjusted and opened that section to space. Mos so close this time, watched as the bodies exploded when exposed to the vacuum.

Mos verified that the jump engines were Time Dilation engines and sent a tight beam message back to Copan for the transport ship. He then nudged the remainder of the cruiser up and over the planet and managed to push it on a course towards the seventh planet, a smallish cold planet, but one where a ship might attempt a landing if necessary. The impact, aided by several thousand pounds of explosive, was impressive, and bright. Several ships approached but there was not enough wreckage to determine that it was only half a ship spread out over ¼ of the small planet.
 
It took over half a year to adapt Mos’s ship to use the Time Dilation jump engines and it was further modified to change it’s configuration to make it totally non-Copani at the activation of the controls. In that half-year Mos, with the help of several scientists, was able to plot her course over the next 50 years, if she stuck close to her plans. Mos intended to make himself vulnerable and, when the timing was right, destroy her.

Mos began his search as soon as the ship was through test trials. He finally located her in the third system he tried. She was in a parking orbit around the planet with several trades’ shuttles gathered close to her docking bay. She was obviously restocking and it gave him an opportunity to study her ship. It was a Son’Jon Hunter Killer with some obvious and, probably, some not so obvious modifications. It’s engine nacelles were oddly shaped which indicated upgraded engines. It was a long sleek ship, definitely a Hunter Killer, and from the bumps and slits in it’s hull, heavily armed. He backed away then, settling into parking orbit and watching the activity.

The shuttles began backing away from the ship and moving back planet-side. Finally a lone shuttle docked, stayed a few minutes and left. He presumed that the huntress had returned and it was time to lead her away. It was way too easy, he thought, but sometimes things just are. He pulled out of his parking orbit, long enough for her sensors note the configuration and then moved out, moving quickly to his jump spot and engaging his jump drive. His jump concluded and he engaged the Time Dilation Jump he had stolen from the cruiser and found the Hunter Killer waiting, as he expected. As soon as he appeared she fired on him, confirming his theories on how, now lets see how some of those modifications worked. As the first blast hit close to the tail of the ship he engaged a special jump sequence and when it was complete he was directly behind her ship, all weapons at ready. But being a bit arrogant he hailed her to tell her that she was about to die. When she responded and her picture appeared on his screen, he said, “My name is Mos Galadstin and I have been assigned by the Copani Alliance to stop your further murder of innocent Copani Merchants and Alliance citizens. It is time for you to prepare to die.”

The visage on the screen responded, “I am Lady P'Mela Piaue LeonDocTchi, loyal citizen of Draksa, and Captain of the Son’Jon Hunter Killer Te’Zsing, self sworn hunter of Copani Murderer’s, of which you are obviously one. I will at least die attempting to kill you, Copani, unlike your brethren who destroyed an entire planet for good reason.” Her ship had started to swing around and he stared incredulously at her. He finally noticed the ships movement and he sent a reversed blast at her ship from his tow beam, ramming her ship and hopefully temporarily disabling her.

Mos could not believe it, it was just too incredulous to be true. If this was P'Mela then she hadn’t died and he could still have his revenge. But not today. He began a high level scan of her ship and an SSBiologic of her and, when they were complete, he opened communications with her once again. She did not respond but her ship did. “Please back away Copani, or I will be forced to invoke my auto programming and blast you out of existence.”

Mos began laughing and finally responded, “OH, Te’Zsing, you have made my day with that so I will let you live to find me another day. Good bye brave little ship, and count your blessings.” With those words Mos dialed back his weapons and fired his Force Cannon at low power, raking the hull of the other ship and leaving evidence that they could have been destroyed, then moving off and finally engaging his jump engines.

Mos and P'Mela played the hide and seek game for several years, Mos spending much time hunting down and destroying other Son’Jon Hunters. He could have destroyed her and her ship several times yet did not and he wasn’t quite sure why. He finally became weary of the game and decided on the ultimate revenge. Using the ships capabilities, he converted the ship to a Skokarran Personal Ship, complete with a pilot who was definitely humanoid, a few inches taller than P'Mela, thanks to a biologic database he kept for reasons similar to this.

When he was ready, he led her on one last chase and then disappeared for well over a month, and then showed up where he had expected to find her. P'Mela was restocking her ship and had gone planet side. He found her in a quiet restaurant eating alone and approached her; asking if he could join her because the other tables were occupied and she seemed to be alone. She looked up from what she was reading, smiled, and indicated that he could sit. They eventually began talking and, at the end of the evening, he asked if he could see her again and she agreed to meet him for morning meal, and left. When Mos returned to his ship he sent her a message and told her what a great time he had had and how much he looked forward to seeing her. Then he began his biotech database with her DNA sample he had collected at dinner.

They met the next morning and for almost 3 months they were inseparable. They spent almost every waking minute together, doing all the things lovers do when they have no need to make plans. Unknown, of course, to P'Mela Mos had been taking blood and DNA samples from her, monitoring her condition and, when she became pregnant, he knew he had achieved the ultimate revenge on her. He told her shortly after that he had to leave, but agreed to her request they meet in a few months time.

As he left the planet, and was just about to jump he called her. When she answered her comm., he reverted to his true Copani form and as her eyes widened, he said, “P'Mela, when we meet once again, as we know we will, I will destroy you. You betrayed me, I will get my revenge.” When he had finished speaking he watched her for a few moments and then hit the jump engines. He returned then, as a non-descript transport ship, and kept an eye on her and monitored her pregnancy. When the baby was delivered it was Copani and he knew she would reject it. He made quiet arrangements to adopt the child, and shortly after that, her ship left the planet and engaged jump engines.

He had returned to Copan, leaving the infant in the care of a servant and the staff on his estate. He returned to his quest of the Son’Jon Hunters and returned infrequently over the next few years. While home for an extended stay so that his ship could be updated and much needed maintenance performed, he found a child who could carry on a conversation and was precocious and made him laugh. He fell in love that day with the only female he would ever truly love. He had named her Aglianan after his favorite grandparent, his mother’s mother. He realized then that he would protect her from life’s disappointments as best he could but as fate would have it, he never did because his mother gave him some of the best advice she had ever given him.

“Son, if ever you feel like you must protect your child, back away and let her be. She will never learn to live if you adjust her life to what you want it to be. Let her make her mistakes, she will eventually learn from them and grow into her own person.”

His life and Aglianan’s became enmeshed that day and, as he watched her grow, he taught her what he could; enjoying all the time he was able to be with her, eventually having to let make her own decisions as to where her life was leading her.
 
After the long talk with Surl, P’Mela stopped by her quarters to change. Quickly, she sent the command to her “special” room, raising the ambient temperature to Draksan mid-Autumn norm for the southern desert of the western continent - her homeland. As she changed into the meditation robes, she wondered why she had never told D’Nel about the “special” room. Of course, the answer was that it was very private and her “special” place. As she walked to the room, located on the lower deck, next to the cloaking power plant, she thought about the Auroran shell, and how the strange aliens took their environment and families with them to space. That was not something done by the j’Son’jon military. Ships were efficient and powerful, not decorated as homes. Though her quarters in Te’Zsing, and her “special” room were exceptions.

She keyed in the code to unlock the door, feeling the warmer air pour out around her as she stepped into the area. The dimensions of the previous storage area was 10 meters by 12 meters but the artists’ depictions seem to stretch the dimensions into a realistic vista of the southern desert. Precisely, it was done by her cousins during a long ago trip to Draksa. They had painted her favorite scene, a Draksan sunset beyond the purpled shadowed mountains. The sky graduated exactly like an autumn sunset, ranging through the vivid colored streaks to the early night sky behind her. A small muslin tent was built into the corner, it’s soft sides fluttering in random patterns of forced air. Another corner realistically portrayed the little oasis and spring which was not far from her family’s estate.

Stretching, she sighed deeply, letting the beautiful images trick her senses into believing she stood on Draksa. Approaching the tent, she reached inside for a large tapestry cushion, and placed it in front of the tent opening. Standing behind the cushion, she kicked off her sandals and wiggled her toes in the sparkling white-beige sand. Her cousins had thought her mad to bring sand onboard a starship. Her uncle had predicted it would find every crack, even those too small for air to detect. P’Mela smiled at the memory. She had arrogantly refuted his claim saying that she would long be dead from lack of air before sand would find its way from the room. Her uncle had been right, and she had been wrong.

She stood straighter, crossing her arms and hands appropriately for meditation and then bowed five times to the life giving “sun” setting behind the “mountains”. Slowly she sunk to her knees, smoothing her mediation robes around her. Closing her eyes, she thanked the Creator of All Things and begin to meditate. Not a proper Draksan meditation, which she had never mastered, but a deep introspection - contemplation. This was the secret of her “special” room. It allowed her relative peace in harsh vacuum and cold of space. Here she could indulge her memories of Draksa and family, contemplate the tasks before her, or question her identity and soul. For inside this room, she felt as if she had lost something infinitely valuable and unique, while she wrapped herself in the essence of Draksa, before she lost anymore of herself.

Here in her special oasis, no chaos was permitted. It was her sanctuary against the unknown, her cocoon for her own growth and awareness. She loved this room and she hated this room. There were times it had given her solace while other times it threaten to weaken her resolve of mission.

She completed her meditation chants and bowed her head to the sand five times. Then she relaxed back along the cushion and pretended to watch her sun setting. She could see the ice capped mountains in the distance, small predator birds circling the air currents of the deeply shadowed crevices. The small gurgling spring soothed her conflicts. The power of this room was to give her clarity through illusion. When she tired of staring at computer screens or black expanses of stars, she could escape to this room, her haven.

Today’s clarity was surprising. She found she envied the Aurorans! Her hands unconsciously caressed her rounded abdomen and she thought about the families who traveled together through space to witness the miracles of the galaxy. This was something she would never experience with the Sonjon military. She knew D’Nel would stay in the service. Afterall, he loved flying new starships and exploring the unknown. But she and the child inside would need roots, not wings.

Thinking of how closely she had come to losing D’Nel and then her child, she thanked the Creator of All Things and bowed to the “sun” five more times, once again relaxing on her cushion. She felt the forced air blowing around her, wisping her hair about her face before the wind died down again. The air seem to be cooling - appropriate for a sunset time of day. She smiled at how easily she lost herself in the illusion painted on metal walls. The sound of recycled water sounding so much like a gurgling spring. Even the forced air had small droplets of Draksan herbal scents to fool all her senses. She felt the child wiggle around and smiled.

“Computer, I wish to dictate a letter to be sealed and delivered in twenty years.” she said softly. She wondered if Te’Zsing was listening and smiled. Of course he was. He hated duplicity and secrets inside his bulkheads, though technically she had tried to lock him out of this room. It was only for herself - no one else.

“To my son. I wish to tell you about your father. I would tell you about myself, if I understood myself better. But since I do not, I will tell you about my impressions of your father. Though I am unsure of what kind of mother I will be, I am quite sure he will be the fun parent. He is still childlike himself. That is a compliment, not an insult. Though he commands others easily, he is easy to smile and laugh, loving to play practical jokes on those around him. He seems born to command, though he seems genuinely surprised when people respond to him - either professionally or personally. I believe that is his strength - humility, though some may think him quite arrogant. Above all else.......”

P’Mela faltered, not really understanding what she was trying to say. Suddenly, she laughed and continued “...above all else he loves to fly starships, especially his newest biggest toy - The Sonjon Glory. It is the newest commissioned starship to carry the name of Sonjon Glory. For my tastes, the ship is enormous, has a ’new ship smell’, is too clean, too brightly lit, with far too many people taking care of too many things at once. But he seems quite comfortable in its command seat.” She laughed again and added “But when he is onboard smaller, more agile ships, his smile lights up brighter than the view screen as he moves quickly from companel to companel, checking and double checking the systems. I’ve even found him hanging precariously from a railing with a ratchet, trying to adjust Te’Zsing’s jump engines.”

A quick rush of forced air roared through the secreted panels, dusting sand into tiny swirls. P’Mela smiled, knowing Te’Zsing was indeed listening. It was his way of injecting his incredulous comment on D’Nel trying to adjust him! She continued her recorded letter “Your father is as much an enigma as I am.....”

On Ch’Chock’pi

“WarMaster Command Sergent, we have an emergency communication from Cadet Yhanna!” P’Aylie announced at the Sokoto’s office door.

The muscular warrior looked up at the young Draksan female, who bore fading bruises and an arm sling, and sighed “Didn’t I tell that boy to never call us! We’d call him!”

“Yes, sir. I believe that is what you have told him on several occasions. Shall I order his court marshal and execution?” she asked politely, one eyebrow raised.

The Sokoto warrior sighed deeply and slammed his hand harshly on his desk “Yes! Schedule it for day after tomorrow.” She smiled as she pulled his door closed. He activated his comm screen and growled menacingly at the handsome young Sonjon “What the hell do you want this time?”

Yhanna smiled charmingly and said “Your job would be sufficient but I’ll accept a field promotion to....”

“You’re wasting my time, Cadet!” the Sokoto tried to keep the smile off his face. The young cadet was indeed too arrogant and cocky, though he had managed to be recruited for the BL’Hala organization far faster than Mai would have believed.

Suddenly, the screen went black and then the coded message scrolled across the screen. Mai read the message. His smile grew as he read further. At the end, as usual, the cadet had included some nonsense which made the Sokoto warrior laugh heartily.

A discreet knock sounded at his door and P’Aylie opened it slightly. “Everything alright, sir?”

“Yes, P’Aylie. It seems I have an unexpected date tonight....with Cadet Yhanna.” he drawled.

“Curious! He doesn’t really seem like your type, sir.” she said smugly and closed the door.

“Does everyone around here have to be disrespectful to me?” yelled Mai. But he was already pulling up schematics of the location where Yhanna ask him to be. After studying the details, he leaned back in his chair, hearing the squeak of the Sonjon leather against his uniform. “That is going to take some firepower!” he mused, feeling his excitement growing at the promise of an honorable battle ahead.
 
“Sir, they are ready for your briefing.” P’Aylie announced softly from his office door. She watched as Chiang-Zhaizu Mai, WarMaster Command Sergeant, seem to unfold his muscular bulk from the office chair. Even though none of them wore official uniforms anymore, just basic black jumpsuits without rank insignia, Mai straightened as if he wore all his medals proudly displayed on his massive chest. She stepped out of his way, a normal instinct in one so petite when faced with a moving mountain.

As he joined her, his hand lightly laid upon her shoulder “Are you still in great pain, P’Aylie?” he asked tenderly. He had grown fond of the Draksan in the two weeks since her return from the hospital. She was highly intelligent, efficient, driven to perfection perhaps too much but a very effective assistant. There was no doubt as to why she had been the Special Assistant to the Sonjon Chief of Staff for over 8 cycles. Chiefs of Staff came and went, but the Special Assistant stayed. There was much implicit in that regard! The recent communications from P’Mela addressed P’Aylie specifically as well as two others.

The large blue eyes looked up, a shy blush crossed her face. “No, sir. I am much better today. Thank you for asking.” She smiled and tried to hand him the data-crystals. He resisted and she said softly “These are briefing details you requested, sir.”

The Sokoto warrior straightened and snapped his jumpsuit, aligning the creases perfectly, then smiled charmingly down at her. “It’s your briefing, Commander.” Her mouth fell open and her eyes grew rounder as she followed him quickly through the command center.

“My briefing?” she stuttered, feeling a warm pain emanating from her shoulder. She was tensing and could feel herself bracing tightly.

The Sokoto stopped abruptly and turned to face her seriously. “Is there a problem, Commander?” She had been so shocked to hear him tell her it was her briefing, she didn’t catch the reference to a rank promotion. Her hand full of data-crystals dropped heavily to her side, and threatened to spill out. Quickly, the warrior grabbed her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “We’ve been through the material, Commander. No one knows it better than you and I, and grudgingly, Cadet Yhanna. Simply give them the information we’ve put together. Then get their opinions and recommendations. I will watch and access their readiness...and inventiveness.” He turned and strolled confidently towards the makeshift conference room, previously a classroom for the military institute. The officers and young cadets stood as he walked in. He greeted them surly, letting his demeanor tell them the seriousness of the meeting. He sank into the large chair and leaned back, watching as P’Aylie’s nervous tension threatened to spill the data again. “Commander, if you please.” he said, his hands spreading to indicate the meeting had begun. Brief congratulations were directed towards her regarding her promotion, to which she charmingly blushed.
 
The petite blond Draksan began her briefing, stumbling over several words and correcting herself. But as she got into the data, she calmed. By the end, Mai was impressed with her first attempt. He was going to need her at her best in the coming days. The new mission threatened to have him out of the command center. She would be the ranking officer in his absence. He hadn’t told her that part just yet. Watching and evaluating as the others absorbed the information, he was about to ask for questions and opinions when P’Aylie asked confidently. Mai adjusted his position in his chair, turning to stare out of the armored window. The rain had stopped again and the sun was shining. She handled the questions and answers well for her first attempt. He needed to interject only in a few instances.

The question was finally asked that he had waited to hear. A young cadet, who had sat in stunned silence, whispered to the next cadet“We have to attack The Holy City?”

Mai’s deep rumbling voice snapped harshly “What is so damned holy about it, Cadet?” He stared over his templed fingers at the young Sonjon, as he rocked slowly in his large chair. He saw the man’s lower lip tremble slightly. It was a good sign to know he could instill fear with his tone of voice.

Stuttering and looking to fellow workers to agree with him, to which none did, the cadet said “It is our Emperor’s Residence, sir.”

Mai leaned back and studied the faces of the others, noting those that wouldn’t make eye contact with him. Those apparently agreed with the cadet but were too timid to admit it. Finally, he stood slowly, laced his hands casually behind his back and began to circle the table. Even P’Aylie seem to tremble when he approached her location. Standing like a venerable teacher before his classroom, he spoke sharply. “The Holy City is less than twenty years old. It was constructed at great expense during a paticularly bad economic decline in Sonjon history. The island was formed from recycled trash, by the way, top soil moved from other locations, simply because the emperor didn’t want to live there rather than here. Perhaps the old residence was somewhat holy, considering it had served previous emperors well for nearly 4000 years. But this emperor wanted everything new for his reign. Well? At great expense and tax hikes to workers, this palace island was constructed. Then what did he do?” The Sokoto looked harshly around the room, mostly of Sonjon and a few other species. “Well?” he asked. Everyone looked to others to answer. P’Aylie suddenly laughed. Everyone looked to her and she clicked a data-crystal through several depictions, finally coming to one which hadn’t seemed very important earlier.

Mai looked at the picture, smiled and winked at her. “Yes, you are correct, Commander.” All eyes looked harder at the picture, without seizing its importance. “This emperor wanted everything new for his reign and had this modern palace city built.” The warrior’s large fingers began to point out details in the picture and said sarcastically “Then moved all his possessions and antiques from the old palace residence to the new one. It will prove to be a fatal error in the emperor’s judgment!” Mai lazily circled the table again and slipped into his large chair. “Comments, questions, recommendations?” he said with a smug grin on his face. He already knew which one would ask the obvious question.

“How is that an error, WarMaster Command Sergeant?” The same insipid cadet asked. Mai’s eyes snapped to P’Aylie and they shared their unspoken conclusions.

“Cadet, come with me!” P’Aylie snapped angrily and turned to lead him from the room. Once outside, she relieved him of duty, confined him to his barracks within the same complex. While he watched ashen-faced, she deactivated his access to the computer, allowing him access only to the food center and his barracks’ room. “I hope you have things to read, Cadet.” she snapped as she motioned for security to take him out of the command center.

“You mean....books, Commander? I don’t know what I did wrong.” he added weakly.

“That is the saddest part of all, Cadet.” she snapped and walked back to the conference room. As she entered, she heard Mai explaining.

“Had the emperor stayed in his old residence, we could not possibly attack it directly. Located in the middle of a large population center, there would have been too many civilian casualties. By isolating himself on an island with only three access routes into the area, he has provided us with a tidy target.”

“But civilians work there. Are we saying they are expendable?” asked one of the Draksan cadets.

“Usually, civilians do work there, but not tonight, Cadet. Tonight....well the emperor is having a party for his closest family and associates. Tonight, civilians will be routed out by sunset, two of the three access routes closed and secured, and only those on the approved guest list, along with royal servers, will be admitted.” Mai studied everyone’s expressions closely.

He saw a smile cross one of the Sonjon female’s face. “I’ve heard about his little parties, sir. It will be a good thing to end them.” She blushed deeply at hearing her own voice so firmly in the quiet room. Mai smiled politely and nodded to her.

“So here is our problem. How do we get in? How do we take out the complex and get ourselves back out?” The only sound was the forced air rattling a loose vent. Mai watched and waited. He knew his plan already. This was to see if they could interpret and react appropriately.

Finally, the Sonjon female sighed “Too bad we don’t have a starship that could surgically strike at the complex. A little payback for the attack on Command Headquarters.”

“Interesting theory.” Mai pretended to be stunned and intrigued by the idea. Actaully, he had already communicated to Sonjon Glory and Flight Lieutenant T'Mot Phan, its acting captain while Admiral Ghar was elsewhere. It was racing at top speed to get from the gunnery range to Ch’Chock’pi in time to stage the orbital attack. In fact, it's time dilation jump engines would have to be pushed beyond recommended tolerances to get to the planet in time. A small chuckle erupted from Mai as he imagined the expression on Admiral Ghar's face if he should return to a wrecked starsip. There would be hell to pay! But P’Aylie had already adjusted the planetary security grid to allow it to slip in cloaked and take synchronous orbit. Somehow, T'Mot Phan would arrive in time, he could feel it in his gut.

Guests were to arrive at the palace between 8 and 10 evening hours. That would allow heavy drinking to dull their senses when, at precisely 11 evening hour, Sonjon Glory would open fire, taking out the three access bridges and the air traffic approach towers, then surgically take out the secondary targets. Because total annihilation was not his goal, Mai and his operatives would be inside. A few judicious assassinations were inevitable, but his goal was to capture the top ranked BL‘Hala representatives, as well as N‘Fan and his conspirators. Thanks to the BL‘Hala‘s junior most computer engineer, Cadet Yhanna, they would be allowed through security checks because their new identities had been added carefully to the guest list.

Weapons were another matter. Getting weapons through security was still being worked out. Mai he had contacted a very special source for assistance, comfortable in his belief that they could achieve that goal.

Mai listened patiently to the cadets and officers, making eye contact with P’Aylie when something important was conveyed. No one in this meeting would know the whole plan, outside of P’Aylie and himself. And it had been a calculated risk to inform them of the plan at all. But some of them would be required for functions at P’Aylie’s command as well as some would be with his internal operatives. He had to decide quickly, however. Yhanna needed to know who’s faces to put on identities before the guest list entry was be finalized by mid-afternoon. After that, he wouldn’t be able to access the computer again.

Mai smiled enough for P’Aylie to notice and she tentatively smiled back. She thought he smiled because he felt confidence. Actually he was smiling because he would be playing the part of the new Sokoto Ambassador, Doi-Mae Orugian. It was a sweet deception for Mai. His clan, Chiang-Zhaizu, and Orugian’s clan, Doi-Mae, had been enemies for several centuries. Mai knew that to nearly all Sonjon, all Sokoto looked alike. Sonjon were racially biased, a weakness which would prove fatal tonight. Mai planned to walk into the party in the flamboyant ambassadorial robes, posturing and hiding in plain sight. Should blame fall to a Sokoto, it would fall firmly on the Doi-Mae clan!

Cadet Yhanna’s plan for the Sokoto Ambassador’s special lady had been brilliantly outrageous...and so stupid it would probably work flawlessly. It was that idea that had made him erupt into deep laughter when he read the encoded message from Yhanna. Afterall, that was the joy in discovering new individuals and species - the unexpected delights.
 
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