Growing Up Alien - Oatcakes54 - The Occupation Saga (2024)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Chapter 1:

Klein:

The mob hammered on thick glass doors. Cracks spiderwebbed as chaos tried to reach into the dark convenience store. The sound of distant thunder accompanied by a soft red flash through the windows. I took a drag off my first cigarette, hacking as I tried to breathe in the smoke. I shouldered my backpack. I wasn’t spending my last hours here. My scheduled shift ended, and I was going to quit spectacularly.

My distracted boss fired off a warning shot towards the door in hopes to scare the crowd off. It only drove the desperate looters into a frenzy. I slammed open the fire door, the alarms blaring as I strode out into the warm night air. Turing back to deliver my last words to the manager.

“This is for charging me thirty bucks a night!” I screamed hoarsely. A bullet whizzed by my head as I stepped away from the door. People who noticed the alarms and gunshot, saw their opening, and rushed in to steal whatever they thought might be needed for an alien invasion.

I wouldn’t need anything. No more borrowed time, no more pretending I wasn’t homeless, no more high school, I was free. The last five hours would be the final day to years of trying to keep it together. I giggled to myself, giddy with relief, and jumped on a ledge declaring “I am squirrel!”

I tried to light up another cigarette, but nausea from my first cigarette got the better of me and I threw up my dinner of pilfered, partially digested protein bars, accompanied by bile of a mostly empty stomach. I washed my mouth out with the last of my energy drink and threw it away along with the crushed pack of my first, and last, Newports. The can bounced over the freshly laid blacktop of the parking lot. I shuffled down the street towards the mall. The city skyline backlit by the eerie intermittent glow of orbital bombardment lasers through smoke and clouds.

People didn’t even look my way as they ran from the mall. Picked clean of anything worth stealing and abandoned. I could find a back room to lock myself away where no one would find me, and I could sleep freely for as long as I wanted.

My nose started to bleed again, running down my face and dripping on the floor. I grabbed a t-shirt off the rack to staunch the bleeding. I looked at the abandoned Macy’s and decided it was peopleless enough and found a back corner, snuggled into my backpack with the bloody shirt as a pillow falling asleep before I could think twice.

A voice bellowed. “Hands up slowly where I can see them”

I cracked an eyelid to see a giant armored… woman? Yeah, those were tit*. She had a weapon of some sort pointed at me. I had to be hallucinating or something. “five more minutes please, then you can take me to Valhalla, hell, or f*cking candy land.”

I felt the vibrations as she stomped her foot and roared. “Get up, NOW!”

Felt, she was real. This was real, an alien. I put up my hands. Visions of half remembered war movies flashed through my mind. I did as she asked and pleaded. “I surrender and request medical care. My name is Klein S-.”

As soon as I stood though I felt every muscle body become weak. I couldn’t keep myself upright and the floor greeted me, blackness enveloped me again.

Latalia:

What in the deep just happened? I checked the boy called ‘Klein’ and his backpack for weapons, finding nothing. We would need his personal effects for identification and there might be something on them for information analysis. I checked he was still breathing. my medical scanner indicated he wasn’t injured, but he had several vitamin and mineral deficiencies as well as low blood sugar.

I handcuffed him and threw the boy over my shoulder like a sack of grain. My partner picked up the backpack and we walked into what once a food court. Turned into a human field hospital. Ta’tali looked up after patching up a lightly armored solider in a black uniform with lasgun burns through his knee.

I put him down and secured him in a hospital bed. “Got another one for you. I found him sleeping in this mall. He asked for a medic before passing out.”

Klein:

I woke up with something getting shoved up my nose. “Ghaa!”

I tried to move away but a firm hand kept me in place. “Relax, bad nosebleed. We will get you healed up.”

I opened my eyes to see a bodacious purple space orc, tusks and all. I looked dumbly at her. “You are a space alien?”

She looked at me, large golden eyes crinkling a little bit. Amusem*nt? “You are to me.”

I was in a hospital bed, cuffed, but my face wasn’t covered in dried blood. The bed was the softest thing I had slept on in months. The... “What are you called?”

The orc was definitely smiling in amusem*nt now. “Shil’vati, my name is Ta’tali.”

…Shil’vati had patched me up. I smiled back, pouring every bit of cuteness I could into my act. The facial expressions were similar enough, and she was speaking English.

The words Aide worker came into my head, and I saw people handing out water bottles and providing medical assistance. “Thank you Ta’tali.”

A thousand watt look of gratitude from the Shil’vati in return for that one thank you, and then the proverbial powder keg blew.

“Don’t thank them, you f*cking traitor.” Cried a someone behind me as he tried to break free of his cuffs. A nasty looking burn charred half his right knee. Others picked up on the commotion also tried to get out of their restraints.

I turned as much as I could and saw the police uniform. Images of desperate faces behind steel doors filled my vision. The leaked videos of police brutality I would now receive. I looked away, letting my long blonde hair cover my face.

“I will be right back.” The Shil’vati said quietly as she went over to the thrashing police officer, Administering a sedative. I heard violent shakes and rattles from the hospital beds around me. Visions of riots, brawls, and bullies made me curl into a ball as best I could with the restraints. The all-female, massive seven- to eight-foot-tall, lilac space orcs trundled about trying to calm down riot.

I looked to my right through the strands of my hair and saw a marine’s uniform half burned off, chest bandage. The man who wore it silently stared daggers at me. The scenes of full metal jacket, and Abu Gharib forced me to jerk my head down.

My thin, bony limbs could easily be snapped by those around me, and now they had a reason to. When Ta’tali came back I whispered. “Can I stay with you?”

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Chapter Text

Chapter 2:

Ruhal:

Feral, that’s kept running through my mind as I watched my subject ‘Klein’. The way he kept his head down, being careful to not make eye contact. The way his face lit up when the medic handed him bread and water. I scrubbed the video back to when he just woke up and said, ‘thank you’.

He already was playing to the medic’s emotions. The smile and request might be genuine, but it was desperate. Klein wanted away from other humans bad enough to ask the invaders for help. The medic, Ta’tali, had quickly grabbed her supervisor to help the one person who showed her kindness all week. I now had my first asset located.

The gauntness, the hungry eyes as he slowly ate a too large ration of bread would have been enough of an indicator. The automated medical report told of a body on the edge of collapse from a trifecta of malnutrition, sleep deprivation, and stress.

I would have expected this in a poverty-stricken slum except, Klein was in an affluent area, surrounded by ostentatious displays wealth. The ground analyst had already gotten an address from his wallet. He lived here. What’s worse, he was still a minor, under human and Shil’vati law, still required to be under the care of an adult. There was no simple reason for his state of being.

I tapped my slate and gave the order. The prisoner ID tagged in the video “Get him up here, and don’t let him interact with the other humans. Also, that field hospital is going to turn into a riot, if they are stable, get those prisoners to cells.”

I sat back glumly. My first subject was going to be an excellent source of information, but there was a horror story behind that smile.

Klein:

“Please stick out your arms.” Ta’tali asked. Beside her, another Shil’vati marine stood guard. I did as they asked, and they added a new set of cuffs before removing the old ones.

I was helped off the bed and led out. I kept my hair down in my face trying to keep some anonymity. I heard someone call out. “Where are you taking him?”

I looked up for just a second. It was officer Boyle; he came into my convenience store every day and bought a protein bar and a cold coffee for the night patrol. Seemed nice, but experience and practice had shown that couldn’t be trusted.

Ta’tali wheeled on the man while I continued to be led away. “Somewhere he will get proper care. I have a brother at home his age. What backwards planet is this to let boys starve?”

The door closed before I could hear what else was said. Floodlight illuminated the area. The parking lot cars had been bulldozed into a corner. Piles of expensive cars reduced to dented scrap in a corner. Dropships stood in their place.

Gleaming purple metal hulls reminded me of Halo. The harsh noises cut out as I ascended the ramp of one into a cavernous cargo hold of a dropship at the end of the parking lot turned tarmac. The marine pointed at a jump seat three sizes to big for me and spoke for the first time. Distorted robotically by what I assumed to be a translator. “Sit.”

I was strapped in and was surprised not to feel anything as we lifted off. A window across from me gave me the only indication we were moving. The dim lighting gave me a primal sense of comfort reserved for the back corners of old libraries.

The marine across from me who’s eyes scanned me in curiosity. I looked down and blankly stared at the uniform. After sleep in a real bed and food that wasn’t packaged protein bars, I could feel my brain starting to come to life again, with it the intrusive thoughts I dubbed squirrel brain, giving the monologued thoughts an angry, squeaky tenor.

Death by snu-snu! Squirrel brain announced.

It was then that I realized I was staring at the marine’s ample chest. I look up to see a smirk through the helmet. I blushed crimson and hid my face in my hands before leaning my head back to close my eyes. Going over the last twelve hours, the transmissions. The mobs, the…

I sit up my eyes going wide. The marine went from flirty to alert and aggressive. Hand tensed on her weapon. I sit back again trying not to freak out as I remember the orbital bombardments.

Too late now. Squirrel brain remarked

More memories flooded back as I remember the bullet whizzing past me and comprehended that my boss took a pot shot at me. Anger welled up, the months of hunger, exhaustion, and hopelessness, punctuated by almost getting shot, and then what I’m the traitor for thanking the first person who helped me without expectation? I leaned my head back and muttered. “assholes”.

I must have fallen asleep sometime during transit because I was being roughly shaken awake by my guard and again moved through out what I had to assume was an airlock, and through the surprisingly large hallways of what I think was a spaceship. Well lit and almost office building like, except constructed out similar shades of purple metal. The pop of bright colors was reserved for what I can only assume was the Shil’vati language. Warning or other information signage.

Three hard knocks on a door as I walked into an interrogation room, and there I met my first Shil’vati male. In a military dress uniform complete with breastplate. Only military assholes wore dress uniforms on the regular like the ones that would frequent my convenience store after something called ‘CQ’ and military balls buying alcohol and drunkenly calling me queer. He stood up, and was much shorter than his female counterparts, only a little taller than me he reached out his hand in a shake. “Hello Klein, I am glad we can talk.”

Ruhal:

The boy shut down the second he saw me, but I had to persist. I sat down, and I had one of the marines remove his cuffs. A safe show of gratitude. Klein was too weak to hurt anyone in this room even if he wanted to, myself included.

I started as conversationally as possible. “This is just a first talk. Just wanting to know why you wanted to stay with us.”

Klein didn’t make eye contact, resting his elbows and head on the table. “Better than dying, being left alone with those assholes.”

I asked. “You mean other humans?”

With a drawn-out breath. Petulantly responding “Yeah.”

The easiest and most useful interrogation I could perform right now was cultural analyses, and with a child. The empress herself couldn’t order me to so much as raise my voice. I would not torture children. “I think you can help me. I have been browsing the internet and I can’t understand these pictures, they make no sense.”

I showed him pictures, scenes from movies we knew, and some we could infer their meaning somewhat. Klein surprisingly goes into detail on each ‘meme’, the history, and the double meanings each one offered.

I stopped the interview after a few hours and left the room with a host of questions pertaining to humanity’s grip on sanity. I looked up at Lieutenant Gieker, my assistant, who was waiting for me right outside. “We have plenty of empty cabins right now, clean one out and use it to hold Klein. Give him an omni-pad as well loaded with the human integration education modules, and English subtitled shows.”

Gieker was surprised but followed only asking for clarification. “A captain level cabin work?

I nodded. “Yes, and then let’s talk in my office what you found on him.”

Klein:

I had my first real shower in months. The stall was massive, and the hot water was, gods bless it, endless. I did a wash myself every day in the convenience store’s restroom with the water, soap, and a rag. I had to look presentable, or someone would notice, and it would have been off to juvie for me, or now at seventeen, prison.

The cabin looked like a standard sized hotel room. A bed, a desk. A small bathroom sink and shower. I almost needed a foot stool everything was sized for the much larger female Shil’vati instead the relatively tiny male I met.

My thoughts on Shil’vati were interrupted when I saw the person in the mirror. It was me, but the once sun-bleached hair was now a dull brown with split ends. There were bags under my eyes that almost looked bruised. My skin was a sickly pale yellow. My cheekbones were too pronounced.

I was death warmed over, and I was never asked by my high school teachers, my classmates, or least of all my boss if I was ok.

It wasn’t that I was fooling anyone. They simply didn’t care. I mumbled, crying for the first time since I found the abandoned apartment. “How the f*ck did this happen?”

I padded over to the bed and picked up what looked to be a tablet. It turned on and in English it gave me a menu of games and shows. I spooled up the first one that looked interesting, ’Prince of the stars.’ It looked like anime, but different. I was too tired to consciously note the differences and fell asleep halfway through the first episode.

Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Chapter Text

Chapter 3:
Ruhal:
Me and Gieker rustled through Klein’s belongings for an hour before we got anywhere. The phone was locked with a keycode encryption that our team would take days to crack. The battered laptop however was a standard human personal operating system and easy to spoof.
Digging through we found the pictures. That gave us an idea of what happened. The new ones were of mostly of landscapes and oddities. Costumed people walking into or out of a store. Parking lots, buildings, sunrises and sunsets.
The going back in chronologically the next set were of Klein. Healthier looking and with other people. Friends and a sometimes an older man, presumably his father, then farther back from that a heavier looking Klein with others and an older woman that had to be his mother.
The oldest picture showed a family. Mother, father, and two brothers, all smiling with a lush tropical forest behind them. I looked at the live feed camera of Klein in his cabin, red eyed from crying, watching something on his omni-pad alone.
Something started to click. I dug around until I found a text document frequented on a word processor that contained all the links he was using, and a folder that contained several downloaded videos. I split up the videos between us and what we found went from cooking demonstrations, make up tutorials, and shows that featured adopted families.
I looked down at myself. I wore the dress uniform. It’s dammed breastplate. I looked every bit the military man, in the human sense.
I sighed and called it a night. “Let’s get some rest. I think I know how we can get through to our subject tomorrow.”
Gieker finally asked something while packing up. “Why are we spending so much time on this kid?”
I responded, making my thoughts concrete. “Normally when you look for intelligence assets you get sellouts that expect something from you, or rigid cases that actively resist questioning. Our subject Klein is a refugee, and if we treat him well, he will answer our questions truthfully, even give us analysis, without any other motivation.

Klein:
A bang on the door woke me. “Stand in front of the door with your hands up.”
I did as they asked, and the door slid open. Two marines quickly handcuffed me and escorted me through to another part of the ship. I saw a few of the other crew, strangely all females. At another cabin door the marines again knocked three times, hard.
What greeted them was Ruhal, the only male Shil’vati I had seen so far. Except instead of a dress uniform he had on a long-sleeved sweater, and jewelry? His face also seemed different, smoother; I realized after a second it was makeup. “Come in!”
I was brought in, and my cuffs were removed. “You both can stand outside the door.”
The two marines looked at one another. “Sir, I don’t think it’s safe to leave-.”
Ruhal cut them off. “He is not a danger to me.”
The door closed and Ruhal moved back to his kitchenette. Grabbing a tray off the counter. “I thought you’d like some breakfast that wasn’t just slop.”
Sweet smelling bread, some kind of fried egg, and a dark blue juice. There was silverware for two, just spoons. Ruhal sat down. “Did you get anytime to watch something on the omni-pad?”
He must mean the tablet. I shook my head. “Barely, started watching the first episode of something before I fell asleep.”
We both ate for awhile. The food was the best I had since I splurged on a restaurant a month ago.
I got enough breath in to finally ask. “Why are you the only man I’ve seen?”

Ruhal responded. “The gender ratio male to female is one to eight. We are decently rare in the military. There is an expectation for us to be more domestic.”
Domestic, the images of cooking, of clean homes, cozy living rooms and books. I was expected to be domestic. That was a nice feeling.

Ruhal:
I knew it. It wasn’t subtle. Klein’s eyes widened and his shoulders dropped a bit. He even sat back with less tension in his neck, eating with more thought.
I asked my own question next. Harmless ones that I already knew the answer to gauge enthusiasm. “What is football exactly? It seems to be two separate sports at once.”
Klein swallowed his food quickly, almost choking. “There's the sport that everyone outside the United States calls football that’s uses the black and white ball, and then there’s American football that has tackles and body armor. There is also flag football-.”
Breakfast lasted hours and possibly the most productive ‘interrogation’ I would ever have. Klein had no understanding of Shil’vati culture, his harmless questions could be answered. By the time Klein would be returned to human society what he knew would be publicly available knowledge. His information, however, peered into human culture, technology, and tactics. Klein was more attentive than my daughters were at answering my questions.
Klein, after spending all morning talking and eating looked ready to fall asleep again. “Tired again? You probably need more rest after what you been through.”

Klein was startled. Suddenly afraid. “What do you mean?”

Again, it wasn’t subtle, his reaction let me know whatever happened. It was hard both on his body and psyche. It was something he was actively avoiding even thinking about. I deescalated the situation by playing dumb. “You seemed really sick coming onboard and might need a few days to recover.”
I brought the marines in. Klein accepted the hand cuffs without objection. I watched them on the ship’s cameras all the way to Klein’s cabin, feeling protective.
I called up the ship’s cook. “Get me a lunch ready in [four hours].”
I was a terrible cook, and I needed time to parse the last few hours with Gieker. I took off my jewelry and switched to work clothes. I loosened the strap of my shock baton, so it was visible. The costume change took only five minutes. Gieker showed up at my door. “Goddess, I think we just answered ten top priority human conundrums in a single sitting.”

Klein:
I grabbed my tablet and curled into bed. How was I so tired already? I slept for…
The tablet that Ruhal called an omni-pad had a timeclock, but it was in Shil script. All around me were placards in Shil. I was too mentally drained to think clearly so Instead of straight language lessons I pulled up a children’s show. It was remarkably similar to Barney, but with a multi-species cast. It went over counting in the Shil twelve base numbering system, putting a finger on a tusk or leg for the extra two digits.
I counted along, the children’s song a lullaby to put me to sleep.
The next few weeks my awareness started coming back. I met with Ruhal twice a day, normally over food. We would go back and forth on questions and answers. Ruhal asked things like the significance of the Spartans, or what this or that insignia meant.
I asked things like how family structures worked. The varied species in the universe. Why was everything in a shade of purple or gray? I quickly picked up the common ‘trade Shil’, a language engineered to be easy to understand.
It was after the second week that I felt the memories coming back. I paced the room trying to keep my waking nightmares away. I could see the day I left Laura’s house, the funeral, when I moved in with Jacob. The day I found the empty apartment.
“No, stop it!” I yelled at myself, tears running down my face again. I shouldn’t cry, but the images, words, and the emotions kept flashing by. The last few years now outlined in my head. I had to make a conscious effort to do something anything, so I didn’t have to focus on my past.
I sat in the corner of my cabin and rocked myself a bit, the soothing motion helped me get just a bit of control that I opened my omni-pad and started watching a Shil’vati romantic comedy, getting into the story until I woke up tired and with burning eyes to a bang at the door. I sighed in relief at the promise of food and something to focus on.

Chapter 4: Chapter 4

Chapter Text

Ruhal:

“I do not torture children,” I said again, almost as a prayer while peering through the thick window. A pinprick of red against the green and blue of Earth signaled another orbital bombardment shot. It was callous genocide, but I kept that opinion to myself.

I would have preferred my last deployment to be in the periphery again, dealing with pirates and slavers. A protector instead of a conqueror. I looked down at my omni-pad and hoped I could still be a protector to someone.

Klein had been curled up in the corner of his room. Rocking himself while mumbling. It was an obvious symptom of trauma that had been festering for years, and only now would I be getting the full picture of what caused it.

Klein’s phone had finally been cracked yesterday, taking far longer than expected. Gieker had delved into it, and I still hadn’t gotten more than a one or two-word response. Now she was asking that I don’t see anything until she was done with the report. I was starting to get impatient.

I turned around, and speak of the wind, I saw Gieker walking towards me. She shoved a standard military omni-pad in my hands. “Here you are Major. You can find me in the gym afterwards. I need to punch something hard.”

I took the omni-pad. Handing it to me instead of just messaging me, or even just telling me was an obvious statement. I started to skim it, my suspicions becoming true. I read it again more carefully. What I was required to do was simpler, but what I needed to do became much more complicated. It wasn’t the worst case I had seen, but that was very little comfort. Gieker was able to construct a history of Klein’s life using the data from his phone as the foundation of the investigation.

Full name Klein Stahl, the son of Jacob and Laura Stahl. The school records retrieved showed his early education years were spent at a prestigious academy, however by age [ten human years] he was pulled out and sent to a public schooling system.

The disciplinary records showed a withdrawn kid. Reading between the lines I could see an often-bullied child striking back randomly. Klein’s academic performance fluctuated, spectacularly sometimes, and often within the same year.

The report moved to Klein’s phone records. Pictures of his brother Issac in uniform. Gieker’s analysis showed that Issac left for the military, and quickly drifted apart from the rest of the family. Last message was from Klein a year and a half ago. Klein made no attempt to contact Issac, even in the state we found him in.

Klein’s life went off the rails starting two years ago. Gieker attached the text messages between Klein and his mother, showing an increasingly erratic and aggressive woman. Guilt trips, insults, demands for money, apologies, with Klein begging his mother to get help for her alcoholism. The back-and-forth messages ended with Klein messaging ‘I’m not coming home.’ Gieker noted that Laura was found dead a week after that message.

The next section talked about his father Jacob. A real piece of work. A former doctor who was indicted for over-prescribing painkillers as part of a money-making scheme. Information found from raiding the local tax office showed a man who burned through other people’s money. Laura and Jacob divorced a few years prior to her death. Jacob had claimed Klein as a dependent the last two years, matching the time of Laura’s death. The tax records went cold after that though. It looks like he skipped town and left his son behind. The last bit was even more disgusting. Jacob squandered Klein’s inheritance, leaving him penniless.

The last section described the state Klein was in when we found him. Working at a convenience store both on and off the books where he slept in the break room. A note found in the office showed Klein’s boss was charging him thirty dollars a night, paid either by cash or work. They found Klein’s boss dead with an empty gun clenched in his hand. Killed protecting his store. Good riddance.

An absent brother, an abusive alcoholic dead mother, and an exploitative father. Not to mention the bullying and wealth disparity Klein experienced on a personal basis. No wonder he reached out to help anywhere he found it, even from an invading empire.

I knew it was more complicated than that. Some other parts of the picture I still didn’t see, but I knew enough. I hefted the omni-pad, the military model was the padded cheap model meant to be used roughly and thrown away. Gieker knew my appreciation for violent action and gave me this as a gift. I wasn’t about to snub her.

I chucked the omni-pad at the wall, putting my weight into it. The omni-pad bounced back and landed at my feet, scuffed but not cracked. Dammit, I was getting weaker, and I needed my analyst. I headed to the gym with a savage, humorless grin to solve both my problems.

I found Gieker by herself at a punching bag making slow solid hits using all her weight. Useless in a fight. “Let’s get some more practical fighting exercises in.”

I threw my analyst a training baton. She fumbled it and had to pick it up before she could face me. Her tusks bent forward as she pursed her lips in a questioning look. “Sir, that would be hitting a sup-.”

I cut her off with a quick swing, deliberately missing her face by a hair’s breadth. “You would not be hitting a superior. This is training, and I would be impressed if you managed to land a strike on me.”

Gieker looked down at the foam-padded stick and readied herself. We got an audience too. The other gym members slowing or outright stopping to watch. I charged, and Gieker made her first clumsy swing towards my shoulder. I deftly sidestepped and made a quick hit to her side with just enough force for it to bruise lightly until she could get a healing patch on it.

“You don’t need to worry about hurting me Gieker. I’ve been practicing with a baton since I was six [ten human] years old. Try protecting yourself.” Gieker moved a little faster with each hit she got. It still took far too long to score on me, and I deliberately let her, she needed the catharsis.

I threw on a healing patch over my bruised arm as Gieker put her hands on her knees, breathing hard, long black hair covering her face. I was merciless though. “Once you clean up, meet me in the office. We need to figure out adoption paperwork.”

“f*ck,” I muttered, because there really wasn’t a better single-syllable curse that conveyed my frustration. Gieker looked apologetic as she explained again, the fourth time in the last three hours. Gieker said what I already knew. “There is a ban on personal interspecies adoptions of newly acquired planets, and for good reason.”

The good reason being that it had been used as a loophole for slavery. I started to curse the Shil responsible for needing these laws when my omni-pad dinged. I opened it to see a message from a one agent Militai. ‘I hear you are trying to adopt a human. After reading Lieutenant Gieker’s report, I understand why you feel you need to. I can offer you a solution.”

Klein:

I was brought to the interrogation room again. The marine had stopped requiring me to wear restraints now, and the crew stopped gawking when I passed. I still kept my head down to avoid eye contact. Shil’vati shows and video games I had immersed myself in kept illustrating the standard male was an extraordinarily effeminate and shy, at least from my perspective. Aggressive males had an mostly sexual connotation, and that seemed like a bad idea for me to portray. I should be offended by my meek act, but honestly? I was enjoying every second of it after spending years putting on a mask of bravado.

“Good morning Ruhal.” I said brightly as the door opened. Ruhal, to my surprise, was wearing a full military dress. He still gave me a warm, open smile.

“Good morning Klein. Thank you, Private, you’re dismissed,” He addressed the marine, who saluted and left, just like the last two weeks. Ruhal sat down, and by the hunch of his shoulders this wasn’t going to be like the other times where we talked about human cultures, weapons and insignia. I was terrified. What if I wasn’t useful anymore?

‘Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!’ squirrel brain commented.

Ruhal motioned me to sit, and I hesitated before stiffly putting myself in the chair across from him. Thank the gods he was blunt. “Klein, how would you like to live off Earth?”

I almost collapsed in relief. Slumping forward a bit. “Yes, I think I would prefer that.”

Ruhal’s look soured even more, and as he opened his mouth, our unspoken rule collapsed. “I will get the paperwork to formally adopt you, but unfortunately I need to know what happened down there with your family so there is no reason to worry about counterclaims.”

All I could utter was “f*ck”, but I nodded in agreement.

Ruhal was no longer the warm figure, but the military officer I met that first day. “So, I know of your family members, but I don’t know exactly what happened to them. Can we start with Issac?”

‘Failure.’ I felt dread as I spun up my first tale. “Yeah, Issac left for the Army about three years ago. He helped with the f-funeral, and then when I was situated with Jacob, he returned to the Army. I haven’t spoken to him in a while. We were never close. I think he saw me as something less.”

Ruhal eyes darted over my features. I could see genuine concern. “Did something happen between you two?”

‘Queer.Failure’ “No… yes, I wasn’t great at school, and he caught me more than once playing with things I wasn’t supposed to.”

Ruhal encouraged me. “Would these things be normal for a Shil’vati boy?

‘queer, failure’, Normal. I blinked as the intrusive thoughts died down. “Yes, they would be normal for Shil’vati. I was caught playing with makeup, with a cousin’s dolls… I got caught dressing up and cooking once.”

Ruhal considered this. “Which is why you never contacted your brother, even when things got rough?”

‘Hopeless, queer, failure.’ “Yes, I don’t think he would have helped me, and I would just be an embarrassment.”

Ruhal asked the next portion. “So, your brother is gone, what happened to your parents?”

‘Used, hopeless, queer, failure.’ I started breathing a little faster before I steadied myself, taking a deep breath to calm down and continued. “My mother, Laura, died and then I moved in with my father, Jacob.”

Ruhal's face fell, but he continued. “What killed your mother Klein? Take a minute to collect yourself, we aren’t in a rush.”

‘Killer, Used, hopeless, queer, failure.’ “Alcoholism, she became violent, and… I had to lock myself in my room until she fell asleep after trying to break down my door. I ran away to Jacob’s house, and without anyone there her liver failed, an-.”

I started to cry the drops making trails down my face. Ruhal was hurting too from this line of questioning. He crossed the room and bent down to look me in the eye. “Klein, it’s not your fault she died.”

‘Killer, Used, hopeless, queer, failure.’ I turned away. “I know! But still, it had been days since I heard from her and I did nothing.”

I breathed out, and let anger burn away my grief. “I guess you want to know what happened to him.”

Ruhal was momentarily startled by my raised, angry voice but nodded. “Yes, I do. What happened to your father Jacob?”

‘Discarded, killer, Used, hopeless, queer, failure’. I stood up and paced around the small interrogation room. “He f*cking left, ok? I came home from school and the apartment was picked clean. All the rent money I paid him… for nothing.”

Ruhal looked stricken. “Rent money!? There shouldn’t have been any need for rent money.”

‘Discarded, killer, Used, hopeless, queer, failure.’ I put my back to the wall. “I know! He shouldn’t have charged me a dime! I was his son.”

“......”

Ruhal said something, but it was muted. I asked him. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you.”

Ruhal spoke up. His arms limp, shoulders drooped. “We found out that Jacob used your inheritance from Laura. He had rent money.”

Discarded, killer, Used, hopeless, queer, failure. Discarded, Used, hopeless, queer, failure. My thoughts became louder and louder and-

(bang). My head hit the back wall. I slid down the wall to the floor, everything had gone still and quiet. My eyes burned, my nose was running, I felt nauseous, everything felt distant. Ruhal moved towards me again Ruhal’s voice was muted, and far away. “Klein? Are you ok?”

I turned my head towards Ruhal. The purple tusked face twisted in fear. I finally nodded, but he was already messaging for a team of marines and a gurney. I let Ruhal move me and said something that brought hope. “I’m adopting you Klein, let’s get you home.”

My brain kept pinging a word at me in the storm of emotions I felt as I was wheeled down to medical, accepted.

Chapter 5: Chapter 5

Chapter Text

Ruhal:

I stormed up to Agent Militai’s office. She looked up only somewhat surprised by my anger. I bellowed “I do not torture children.”

Militai motioned me to sit, explaining. “No, you don’t, that was therapy. I guess you never investigated how to treat trauma for children? Even after all the kids you saved from slavers in the Periphery.”

I moved my jaw and gripped the masked toy soldier in my hand tighter but remained calm and didn’t speak. She was right after all.

Militai continued her explanation. “People growing up in long term abusive situations can’t just get trauma treatments, even if they weren’t a new species, because it removes the person’s basic life skills that are associated with those memories. They lose the ability to speak or make rational decisions. The first step to treatment then is being able to comprehend what happened to them.”

I sat finally, feeling scolded. I told him, “You seem to know a lot about this.”

Militai looked out the window on Earth. “I’m an interior agent with the office of future operations, and I’ve been tasked to keep a certain…situation from spiraling out of control.”

I could hear the curiosity despite myself pocketing the toy soldier, so I had both hands free. “What kind of situation? And what does it have to do with Klein?”

She looked back at me and sighed. “This will be kept in the strictest confidence, for Klein’s sake. Earth is a population of billions, with a substantial number of Orphans. We need a program that will take care of those orphans fast before more corrupt elements of the Shil’vati Imperium will take root and use them.``

After spending a career dealing with exiled Shil’vati on the periphery, I growled out. “You mean those orphans would be kidnapped.”

Militai nodded. “Humans will become a hot item when found out they seem to have been specialty built for endurance and survivability. A normal work week for us is a hobby for them, and as for warfare…”

Militai trailed off, looking at her desk somberly, before returning her attention to me. “Human civilizations create natural born war machines. We focus on their sexual endurance in propaganda because their combat endurance could shift public focus away from integration to military exploitation.”

Militai looked away fretfully before she collected herself. “I am spending what will most likely be the rest of my career on humanity. We need humans as partners, as soldiers, and most importantly, as citizens. If we aren’t careful humanity could become parasitic demanding more and more for their ability, hollowing us out.”

I responded. “What does this have to do with Klein?”

Militai explained “Klein occupies a microscopic point of overlapping statistics. He and humanity have mutually rejected each other. He was picked up before being exposed to the war, and because of his childhood affluence, never picked up the necessary connections, skills, or mindset to live independently. Klein is like a pet Turox [horse sized lizard, functionally like oxen] someone abandoned.”

“I need to see how a human, unencumbered by this war, socializes with different species. There could be millions of Kleins in a generation, but to get that I need those children to grow up in a culture that accepts them. I need to get a template of sorts now.”

My eyes narrowed. “How many other ‘Kleins’ have you found?”

She responded. “If you mean homeless children with no family, Thousands, soon to be tens or hundreds of thousands. A few already have done the same thing Klein has and asked for help, but none have a bond with another Shil’vati, yet. I need a way to take care of them. You are my first step. The office of future operations is giving me a deep pocket of currency to handle the orphans before it becomes something untenable. I will have childcare specialists on the ground by the end of next month.”

Militai then laid out how this allows me to adopt Klein. “You will be on loan from Naval Intelligence for the next three [five Human] years. Working on the... ‘Human social project’. Klein will be its sole asset, and you the only personnel. I want a weekly report on the asset’s progress.”

It was adoption with extra steps. I could work with that. “Thank you, before I go though, Klein gave me this and told me he ‘didn’t need it anymore.’ Any idea what it is?

I pulled out the toy soldier. Militai inspected it, utterly fascinated. She explained. “Most would say this is an Earth’s World War One soldier from about sixty [one hundred Human] years ago, but in actuality it’s from a fictional world known as Krieg, and this soldier is a brutal shock trooper.”

Militai wobbled the toy soldier on its base, using its bayonet like a toggle switch. “Why would a boy that wants to dress pretty and wear make-up have such a grim token is beyond me. Let’s make the answer to this one of your objectives.”

She picked up the Krieg soldier and handed it back to me. Then gave me a smug smile. “This assignment comes with a promotion, congratulations [Lieutenant Colonel].”

I walked out of the room. Klein was with the only “human psychiatrist” we had on board, so I went to my office to send out messages to my wives. I softly chuckled in the hallway. “Telia just left for university and now we are going to have a male human child in the household.”

Klein:

I stared up at the dull white ceiling. My brain felt like a dead signal as awareness started to creep back. The color of the ceiling wasn’t the white of Earth hospitals, it was dull, almost gray. The medical system I was hooked up to didn’t beep or click. I looked down at my hands and arms with only a wrist strap for connections for all the diagnostic equipment on me.

My arms, they had gone from rail thin to something a little fuller, barely noticeable to anyone but me. My omni-pad was on the bedside table. I leaned over to scoop it up and turned on the front facing camera.

My eyes were already clear from crying. My cheekbones were less defined with a little bit of healthy fat on them. I looked less zombielike overall.

‘Halloo, Earth to Klein’ squirrel brain said.

Goodbye and good riddance Earth. Ruhal’s words still hit me. ‘I’m adopting you, let’s get you home.’

The door opened and an elderly, and only other male Shil’vati I had seen, walked through the door. He had wrinkles, and his small tusks looked worn down, almost disappearing into his lips. He spoke thickly accented English with a smattering of Shil words that I already knew. “Hello Klein, I’m Doctor Lital. I’m a [Xeno-psychiatrist], how are you feeling?”

I got up with some effort and my body was leaden with exhaustion, but I decided to show off a bit. “[Like I got run over by a truck].”

His expression changed to delight. “[Excellent]! A few weeks and you already can speak full Trade Shil sentences. Let’s stick to English though, I spent too long learning it not to put it to use, at least for a little while!”

Lital continued. “I’m not surprised by you feeling worn out. You had one massive emotional breakdown. A perfectly normal response for a human who has been through what you have.”

‘it’s called SNAFU’ squirrel brain remarked

I shook my head, clearing out my own monologuing. I asked. “How bad is it?”

Lital responded. “Treatable, we can’t just erase the memories. It’s not a single event. What can be prescribed puts some ‘space’ between you and the trauma. Takes the emotional edge off it, but the memories will still be clear.”

That sounded perfect. “When do we start?”

Lital smiled. “Here is your first prescription. Take one every day. It is a slow process though, but there are other things you can do to help.”

I co*cked my head to the side. The Shil’vati gesture for ‘question’, and Lital responded, enjoying my quick pickup of Shil social cues. “Yes, we need to get you signed up at the gym. Exercise will get your brain chemicals something else to process. Also, how have your studies gone?”

My head remained co*cked. “Studies?”

Lital seemed exasperated. “Yes, learning! You must be doing something to pick up Shil language.”

I pulled up my omni-pad. “There are some educational modules on here, and a lot of Shil’vati shows and books. I want to read it in the original tongue so, I learn.”

Lital’s mouth moved silently processing what I just told him, then he said. “On the way to your new home we need to get you enrolled in the formal education system. Right now, you have plenty to think about,”

I took my medication and as Lital left I pulled up a Shil’vati historical drama ‘Bay of Fire’ on my omni-pad. Stopping every few minutes to look up an obscure word both in the simplistic Trade Shil and its cursive, and often more descriptive counterpart in High Shil. Quietly repeating the words until they sounded right.

Ruhal:

I walked into my office space for the last time. A year of planning and setup, and it boiled down to less than a month with Klein. Not that I considered it wasted.

I sat down with Gieker in our office for what would be the last time. A year of setup, and I was already being pulled after two months into what was supposed to be a year-long deployment. Packing the few knick-knacks I had on my desk.

Gieker spoke up. “Uhh, Sir, are you ok?”

I froze while picking up a horn I had ground off a Nighkru slaver. It had rested on my desk as a bloody trophy to warn superiors and subordinates alike that I was to be taken seriously. It also reminded me why I served for so long despite the stress it put on my family. A reason I now questioned every time I looked out a window at the blue marble we came here for.

I put the horn in my mobile office box. I looked up at my once [Lieutenant] now [Captain], I wasn’t the only one who got a promotion. “Gieker, it has been an honor working with you. I just regret our time together must end prematurely.”

Gieker nodded but asked. “I know it’s not my place to ask, but is there anything else?”

I finished packing first, then finally spoke up, aware someone could be listening in. “I don’t… agree with what’s being done here. I hope that doesn’t change your own opinion, but after [30 human] years there should have been a way to integrate humanity without breaking them.”

Gieker’s wasn’t looking for me. Her frustration paralleled mine, but she was young and felt like she could still change the direction of the Shil’vati war machine by sheer force of will. I wasn’t so naïve.

I stood up, my well-organized office box under one arm. I put my arm out in a fist bump. “You’ve done amazing work, I’m sure you will do amazing work down there.”

She returned the gesture and then I turned to leave, trying to prevent this awkward goodbye from being drawn out. Gieker gave me a warm thought to hold onto. “Ruhal sir, take care, and congratulations on your new son.”

I turned back. “Son… never thought I would have a son. Might still not, but that’s Klein’s decision now.”

I left and walked through the warren of hallways towards my cabin with a bounce in my step. Packed and now waiting with Klein and the elderly Dr. Lital at the transfer station for the medical ship Mercy’s Blessing to take us on a roundabout path to my, our, home. I couldn’t save the whole of Shil’vati or humanity from terminal stupidity, but I could save one, and that was enough.

Chapter 6: Chapter 6

Chapter Text

Klein:

The sound of falling rain and distant thunder dragged me out of unconsciousness. I groaned and tapped the off switch on my slate [tablet] alarm. Rising, I performed my morning ritual, focusing on the worst of my traumatic memories. It was like picking at a scab or touching a bruise. Testing to see how much it hurt. I didn’t cry, just felt… bad? The images flashed through my head, but it didn’t have the punch anymore.

My second alarm started with a chorus of Rakiri drums increasing in beat, and a cello-like instrument rising out of the din. I sat up and stretched before I got ready for the day. It only took fifteen [thirteen in Shil’vati base] minutes to have my teeth clean, hair braids fixed, and dressed in my first set of gym clothes

A knock at the door signaled Vali had arrived.

I put on my meekest smile, making sure at least two braids of my blonde hair fell in front of my face, and answered the cabin door in my rapidly improving Trade Shil. “Hi Vali, what are we doing today?”

Vali, standing seven feet, towered over me. Craning down, she beamed with joy before proclaiming, “Another arm day Little Brother!”

Dr. Lital had introduced me to a gym group composed of nurses and medical techs aboard the Mercy’s Blessing as part of my therapy. Ruhal had joined the first session with me, wearing his Lieutenant Colonel’s rank as a cold shower to anyone who wanted to pursue a member from the fabled ‘sex planet’; however, it wasn’t necessary.

The first day onboard I spent with Ruhal learning to braid my hair, and, goddess bless it, use makeup while watching various snippets of Shil’vati movies. The adorable look combined with the backstory of an abandoned orphan had its desired effect. Not once was I harassed as Ruhal once feared. Instead, I had become the Mercy’s Blessing mascot.

“You can lift it Little Brother!” Vali called out as I tried to pull up on the bar in the surprisingly cavernous gym filled with machines not unlike earth gym equipment. My persona was helped by the fact I was weak as a kitten compared to a full grown Shil’vati woman, and even to most Shil men, with every day though, I made a little bit of improvement.

As my gym group escorted me back to my cabin we passed by Ruhal and Dr. Lital.

Ruhal:

Klein, done up in his braids tied in strands of ribbon, smiled knowingly at me as he walked in the center of his gym group. I smiled back at the group as a whole and offered a basic ‘good morning’ greeting, betraying nothing. The kid would make one hell of a spy if he ever put his mind to it.

Dr. Lital spoke after we rounded the corner. “Do they know about?..” Dr. Lital trailed off, letting me decipher the context of the question.

“No,” I responded. “And if we are lucky, they will see only what they see.”

Dr. Lital laughed to himself. “If they only knew. Speaking of hidden talents, how are the studies going?”

“Fast,” I admitted. Klein’s academic performance in human society had been choppy, but his ability to learn was a different story. Left alone with the ship’s data-net, Klein would gorge himself on information. I quickly gave up trying to keep him on a single track as he made more and more connections to vastly different subjects until he would finally burn himself out by noon.

I brought Lital back to his cabin and then to Klein’s cabin to pick him up for breakfast. The rank and shock baton attached at my hip garnered nothing but polite salutes and respect through the ship as I strode by myself. Something my younger self would have found shocking and would have sent my father into a terrified huddle in the corner. Thankfully we both changed, even if I didn’t feel my father’s changes were… appropriate.

Klein:

I pulled out my Omni-pad once I put my tray down in the officer’s mess. Me and Ruhal sat alone. The few other officers engaged in their own conversation. Bored, my attention moved to my meal, pippiya, a meat filled muffin with a crust that has the consistency of cornbread. I looked back to what I was learning on my Omni-pad, something called metallurgical lattice matrix equations. They reminded me of other Shil’vati math equations I had looked up yesterday

As I reached for my non-existent slate [tablet], I came to an embarrassing realization. I was in the cafeteria, not the office with my slate.

Oh wait, that meant food.

I looked at my pippiya and took another bite, enjoying the taste. My curiosity made me wonder, what exactly was in a pippiya? What type of meat and grain did they use? What culture was it from? I was about to look that up when I caught Ruhal watching me.

I stop, realizing I have been ignoring him again. “Sorry.”

He put on his disarming smile that put me at ease despite the military dress uniform he preferred to wear. “No need to be sorry Klein. What did you find interesting?”

I look down. “Well…”

Ruhal:

Klein chattered about a dozen different things he learned over breakfast. The mask he wore around female Shil fell away as his attention skipped from one subject to the next with only tangential association between them. I listened intently, using every skill of interrogation I picked up to read Klein. The widening eyes, the tensing of different facial muscles. My daughters never got this excited about school.

Knowing he could spool up into a hours-long rant, I stood up to signal the end of breakfast. “Alright, let’s head to the study. I have a lot of work to finish.”

Klein walked beside me with his disguise neatly in place again. It was fascinating and almost creepy to glance over and see an innocent expression that just seconds ago was a hungry face full of concentration.

The mask fell away again as he picked up his slate and slid on headphones in my office. I knew he would be incomprehensible if I talked to him in this state by the darting of his eyes and the telltale half smile, half snarl, of a hunter in pursuit.

Seeing as Klein was otherwise preoccupied, I set about my own work and learning. My job right had become to comb through the massive data dumps of human information, and sort it out. Millions of words, videos, and diatribes, much of it toxic and culturally inscrutable, yet it still had to be categorized for later research.

Klein again proved indispensable. If I was stuck on some recurring theme that I couldn’t figure out, all I’d do was tap on the table in front of him to get his attention so he could disengage from his studies and give me a few words that saved me days of deciphering. I tended to time it every hour or so to give Klein mental breaks.

By the third hour though, Klein was exhausted. The eyes became unfocused, moving slower and slower. Almost nodding off.

I stood up and put my hand on Klein’s shoulder. “Klein, it’s lunch time.”

Klein always seemed to perk up a little at that, but he was languid and while he talked easily at the cafeteria, it was without the speed or agility to seamlessly move from one concept to another. I tested this multiple times over the last week and put it in my notes for the ‘Klein report’ of his mid-day crash.

I escorted Klein back to his cabin where he passed out until it was time for him to go to work.

Klein:

Sh’tel knocked on my door. The older nurse had requested an orderly to help with low level work. She never expected to have the request fulfilled in transit, and especially with a new volunteer in every sense of that word. The job was only two or three hours long a day, but it felt nice to be productive again.

Ruhal volunteered me. After only a few days on the Mercy’s Blessing, I had started to get antsy in the afternoons with nothing to do until evening.

I opened the door. Feeling back at full speed after my nap, and able to play ‘cute human’ again. Brightened to full wattage, I put my best foot forward as I greeted her. “Hello Sh’tel, I’m glad to see you!”

Sh’tel had raised eight children as the second caretaker with her husband while her cowives all worked day jobs. She saw right through my bullsh*t; I enjoyed the act with her though. Sh’tel gruffed, “Let’s get moving orderly. We have a lot of patients to see.”

Sh’tel might not enjoy my cutesy performance, but she, like Ruhal, understood the practicality of my act to a group that still hadn’t had time to be treated for war induced trauma.

I handed another tray to a grateful marine whose face was covered in white healing patches, wires trailing to a machine next to her gurney. She rasped, “Thank you orderly.”

“You are welcome Mq’uali.” I always learned to say their name. It was a small kindness, but like that first nurse I met on Earth, Mq’uali’s expression showed it was felt tenfold by the marine who was just handed her dinner by the Shil’vati equivalent of an anime girl. I tucked a loose braid back for effect.

Mq’uali played with her food for a second while she looked at my name tag. My pseudonym Ka’ahel meant ‘blue dwarf star’. “Umm, Ka’ahel, can I get your contact info?”

This was obviously a common question. I answered it with practiced shyness. “I’m a little young for that, and my guardian, Lt. Colonel Ruhal, is really protective of me right now.”

It worked. It always worked. Mq’uali nodded her head, blushing from embarrassment. “Sorry! I don’t know how to tell age among humans, and…”

I folded my hands in front of me primly. “It’s ok Mq’uali. I’m a new species, and it’s easy to see me as something else.”

She relaxed a little, but an awkward look was still plastered on her face. I felt bad with the deception, but the requests got fewer and fewer with each workday.

The last room was the two sergeants that both could somehow see past my persona. The reactions though were on the extreme opposites.

“Get out of here, Stiff!” Sergeant Oa’lse spat. ‘Stiff’ being a derogatory term for males. The slur washed over me without a twinge of emotion. I had been subject to far worse working retail on Earth.

“Is there anything I can get you Sergeant Oa’lse?” I asked politely. Apparently, Sergeant Oa’lse had most of her lower body blown away by a human with a grenade launcher. She had robotic legs I had only seen her use in physical therapy, a synthetic digestive system, even a replaced lung, not to mention the entirety of her reproductive system.

“OUT!” she shouted again, pointing at the door. I didn’t blame her, even with Shil wonder medicine regrowing her internal organs. It would be years before she has all organic body parts back, if ever.

“Don’t listen to that scraggly titted marine. Do you have a Ka’tella bowl?” Sergeant Yardi asked. She was one of the youngest sergeants I met, and was by far the easiest going. Yardi had taken an old anti-tank rifle round through her shoulder. The new arm was thin and had a shiny purple sheen that only somewhat matched her skin color. Its jerky motion and the constant Parkinson’s disease-like tremors meant it still would be a few weeks before it could be used for fine work. Along with that, Yardi’s new lung meant it would be a few months before she could do anything strenuous.

I pulled out a Ka’tella bowl. It had a couscous like pasta mixed with purplish nuts and a few vegetables I recognized now. Yardi graciously accepted it, and started to eat, but after her second spoonful she spoke up again. A new trick to get more attention and get under her roommate’s skin. “Orderly Ka’ahel, can you help me? Every time I try brushing my hair with my new arm it just seems to get more knotted.”

I smiled and took the hairbrush. It wasn’t outside of my job description, but it was physical contact. “Of course, Sergeant Yardi.”

Sh’tel rolled her eyes at the ploy, but didn’t protest. “I need to get some paperwork done. I will be back in [half hour] to escort you back to your cabin orderly.”

Oa’lse stared in horror while blushing a deep blue as I brushed down Yardi’s hair from a bird’s nest to something resembling normalcy, and Yardi was enjoying every second of it.

Chapter 7: Chapter 7

Chapter Text

Klein:

Most of the crew was on the shift change handoff while I changed into my second set of workout clothes, pocketing my industrial strength grip hair tie guaranteed to keep hair out of your face. The rhythmic knock on my door let me know it was “Instructor Li’kele”, though her real name was a mystery. The Shil’vati woman looked normal enough, but the “Death’s Head” Commando was an instructor at the commando base on Ruhal’s home planet of Sky, and twice every six-day week, her figure brightened my doorstep.

“Let’s see how much you’ve improved ‘little fighter.’ ” She had turned my mascot name into her own joke. After a quick walk through the empty halls of the oversized ship, we stepped into the gym where Ruhal, and Dr. Lital were already there doing some light exercises to stay in shape. Li’kele however, ensured my sessions were never easy.

“MOVE!” I ran to the treadmills tying my hair up in the process. She tapped her own treadmill, and both spooled up to a jogging pace, my legs starting to get a rhythm.

It happened just after the first five minutes of running. Something in my brain turned on. It was like when I downed an energy drink right before work in anticipation.

Squirrel brain queued up the lyrics to Megadeath’s “take no prisoners”, and I mumbled them to myself. Wishing I had my headphones again.

Ruhal:

“There.” I said to Dr. Lital, and he nodded emphatically, staring at his screen.

“It’s like someone just lit his brain on fire, and he’s maintaining a death march.” Dr. Lital said as he tapped on his screen. I had taken a break from the weights to watch. Klein’s body language reminded me of when I went with my wife Reqellia’s Rakiri friends on a hunting party. Aggressively energized, and furiously happy, he was mouthing words to some remembered song.

I thought about the Human videos I was cataloging. “Dr. Lital, this isn’t even close to a death march.”

Dr. Lital turned to me. “Humans are monsters of endurance. Even in the week he’s been working out. Klein’s made impossible improvements thanks to Shil medicine working on any muscle microtears.”

I shrugged and racked more weight. If I was going to teach Klein how to use a baton, I would need to keep up with him at least somewhat.

After an hour of various calisthenics, Klein stumbled towards us with a goofy smile plastered across his face, and uttered “I’m starved.”

Klein:

The heavy dinner made me lethargic, and I sunk into the couch in Ruhal’s cabin. Movies after dinner were a common thing now. Going to Ruhal’s cabin instead of the smallish ship theater meant this was a human movie, and frequent pauses. Ruhal set the projector up while I munched on what I started calling a “ginger bar” in my head. A dense sugary confection that had an added spicy flavor to it.

Tonight, we were watching… Anime, specifically first episodes of different Shojo* anime, including… Yaoi*. Ruhal didn’t blush, or even react in the slightest while calmly taking notes. I felt embarrassed as hell watching this with Ruhal.

*(Shojo is Anime targeting a female audience, Yaoi is gay romances)

Ruhal put down his stylus after the third show. “So Klein, what about you?”

I stopped short. Trying to parse the question. “...What about me?”

Ruhal continued using Shil language, but in a Human context. “I am trying to understand you in the context of human society. Most Human men who act this way are considered…”

Ruhal let the unasked question trail off and I sighed as I stood up, walking around the spacious cabin. Putting into words my own wrestling with that question. “I think I am straight if that’s what you are getting at. Before I got here, wearing makeup casually, people would have expected that I was at least bisexual, even I thought that because there wasn’t another explanation I knew of. It wasn’t something straight men did, and I like being affectionate, but I don’t find other males… attractive.”

Ruhal smirked. “Klein, you can style yourself up as much as you want.”

We finished the rest of the episode, but when I looked over, I realized Ruhal was using the show as white noise to think, tapping at his slate in thought.

Ruhal:

So, Klein was not gay as I worried. The complexities of that facet of Shil society would have to wait for a later date, or if he found out about me and Tulo. Goddess, I missed home.

I turned the little Krieg soldier in my hands, its masked face implacable. I was still trying to understand the toy soldier. It had been painted recently and handled constantly. The cheap paint was flaking off slightly to the touch so it wasn’t an old memory, but the Klein I knew had so little to do with the grim machine-like character I was holding.

I thought about asking Klein directly, but that would mean he would have to dredge up the memory. Dr. Lital warned me that could bring back the emotions connected with this figure, and Klein was making progress. He only had one emotional breakdown this week talking to me about family.

The only connection I could see between Klein and the toy soldier was the gym. He pushed himself to near collapse each time, but he was still egregiously happy after each workout session.

The problem was that wasn’t enough of a link. There had to be something more I wasn’t seeing. I put the soldier down and went to bed. Keeping Klein occupied had turned into a full-time job on top of work itself. I smiled as I stared up at the ceiling, wondering if I finally found someone who could keep up with Reqellia and her Rakiri gym buddies. I was out before I considered the ramifications of that.

Chapter 8: Chapter 8

Chapter Text

Dr. Lital entry on the ‘Klein report’:

* Author’s note: all numbers are in human base and units

Entry 07: While we have plenty of medical reports of how Humans work, seeing and studying one under controlled conditions has been a different experience. The Subject name ‘Klein’ is a human male at the age of [seventeen], and despite the circ*mstances being acquired on Earth he has recovered, at least physically, from his ordeal.

His first exam showed all physical and chemical characteristics to be within standard deviation of human baseline. It should be stressed that this is using data compiled by humans and is below Shil’vati testing standards. Klein’s baseline medical report has been attached to this entry for reference.

I have put The Subject into a physical training group as it keeps The Subject occupied and is generally good for its physical and mental wellbeing, and can gauge human recovery and capabilities post-trauma. I have The Subject come in for a quick checkup twice a [week].

I have put The Subject into a physical training group as well as one-on-one training with a Commando instructor returning to the base on planet Sky after a short observation mission. The Subject at time of acquisition was at [one hundred and forty pounds], he has since gained [ten pounds] in equal parts of muscle and fat over the three weeks in our custody, though half of that has been in the last week, indicating the first week was replenishment.

The Human may be structurally similar to many sentient Shil’oid species; however, the Human is biochemically a strange beast. Were it not for their evolutionary record being somewhat intact, they would seem custom-designed to evolve into an environment rather than built for a single biosphere with The Subject even been able to grow accustomed to Shil’vati standard air temperature.

The Subject’s muscles micro-tear similar to Shil’vati, however; they rebuild stronger at a rate far higher than Shil standard, accelerated even more by modern medical technology.

The Subject also seems to possess a high baseline endurance, able to keep up with a Death’s Head commando in aerobic exercises that rely on lung and heart capacity rather than physical strength, despite confessing no prior training in the matter. The possibility of deceit is small given the condition the subject was in, aggregated human medical records from publicly available data regarding athletic ability places him in the lower quartile of the population’s capabilities. Notably, continual testing shows improvement in endurance capabilities beyond what any amount of muscle tearing should enable.

The Subject seems to have a pattern of addiction that is somehow beneficial. The more he exercises the more his own brain chemistry rewards him for doing so, creating a reinforcing feedback loop. I am only starting to understand the implications, but to me it is indicative of a susceptibility to substance and psychological abuse provided a reward mechanism is given, though I am puzzled as to where his brain chemistry is finding reward in the activity of running.

The Subject’s physical limitation is therefore caloric as after the body runs through it’s stores of glycogen the body must metabolize fat directly, with The Subject can continue to function, though at a far reduced rate.

In practical terms, The Subject shows that a typical human can handle long marches and other extended physical activity normally the domain for an augmented member special task group. This potential cannot be understated.

Ruhal:

I kept glancing over at Klein to see his reaction to the station around us. The sparsely populated refueling station was a safe first field trip for Klein. I still brought instructor Li’kele along. The commando seemed to be enjoying her ‘security detail’ and would have quite the story to tell her wives.

Klein was of course in awe at the station. The curved walls and high ceilings of the station’s main thoroughfare must have been right out of science fiction for him. The passersby on the other hand would sometimes do a double take or openly stare at the blonde hair and facial scruff Klein was sporting, with Klein openly staring back.

That’s when I would twirl my baton oh so casually. The full military dress pulled their attention to the fact that Klein was being escorted by two people they did not want to cross, no matter the temptation.

Our first stop was a stone façade restaurant called ‘The hunter’s feast’ where we would meet Laketo.

Klein:

The station was amazing! Wait, was that a Senthe!? Squirrel brain pulled out the flash card description of the Senthe ‘physiologically a Snake like lower half with a Shil’oid upper torso, and cobra like cowl.’

The other sentients were gawking just as much at me as I was at them. A Helkam ‘Shil’oid with gray skin, partially scaled, webbed ears. Fish people’. Just looking at my mouth hung open like I was the weird thing.

I think it was the chin hair. I needed a shave, but first Food. By the time I collected myself we were already inside the restaurant. The stone, wood and metal reminded me of a Ren-faire tavern, except much more solid. One group, pack I reminded myself, was in a corner eating enough to fatten an entire American football team.

We headed to the booth where a single Rakiri sat by himself with one leg crossed, reading on an omni-pad. Close up, Rakiri had a striking were-big cat look about them. Lynx-like face with fur tipped ears and tail that was tipped with long fur at the end paintbrush like. This male stood up and was probably six foot three on his reversed knee legs. Only a little shorter than Instructor Li’kele herself.

The style on this particular Rakiri was brownish fur speckled with bright colors from some kind of painting accident. The large face curved upwards into a warm smile. The mane held back into a ponytail.

His clothes consisted of a loose white sleeved shirt with a thick padded vest that should be too warm for his fur, and decorated with a creeping vine motif of golden thread. The pants were closer to old knickerbocker pants that ended just below the knee. Feet covered in what looked like foot socks. Except thicker, with rubber pads instead of the whole sole on the foot.

This giant were-person with sharp teeth and claws walked up to us and spoke impeccable trade Shil while offering a dainty fist bump. “Hello! You must be Klein. I am Laketo.”

I had seen other non-Shil aliens before, but not up close and personal. I knew I was sheltered aboard the Mercy’s Blessing, but I was starting to realize how sheltered.I stammered looking at the fist bump offered. Laketo had rounded his claws and painted them in pastels colors. I put up my own fist “-Hello Laketo, I am Klein.”

He brightened his smile, the brassy yellow dyed markings of fur around his eyes scrunched up as he motioned to the table “it’s a pleasure to meet you! I got us some appetizers.”

Food. It was fried dumplings called ‘kitoto’ stuffed with a mix of vegetables and shredded meat, served with a pungent fish sauce. I snarfed as Laketo spoke. I always seem hungry these days.

Ruhal spoke up, putting on a pair of brass glasses. “It was thought best if I talked to you first. My pack specializes in childcare and has been contracted by The Office of Future Operations. I was hoping to ask you some questions.”

I finished my appetizers, putting back on my psychological ‘nice’ mask, but it felt a little crooked now after scarfing my share of dumplings without politeness. “Of course, Laketo, what did you want to ask?”

Laketo moved one of his painted claws on the table, the glasses flashed tiny unreadable symbols. “So, what were some of your favorite books as a child?”

The question ostensibly moved around the children and certain parts of my own childhood. Laketo got a little close to some of my recent rough areas of life, but I, or Ruhal deflected the questions.

Ruhal spoke up after a full hour of back and forth between me and Laketo. “Laketo, there is something I want to ask. Klein wants to get rid of his facial hair, but I don’t have any idea about shaving.”

Laketo was in the middle of putting his glasses back in their case when he was momentarily surprised. “There’s plenty of Rakiri child rearing book- never mind, ask for a modern bloodless razor, should give a close shave without cutting skin, ask your ship’s barber. They should be trained with using it.”

Ruhal looked taken aback. “The barber would know this? I..”

I was starting to learn that for all his skills in reading people, and being male, Ruhal wasn’t the greatest at domestic affairs.

Laketo then motioned to the Rakiri group across the restaurant. “Well Klein, how would you like to meet the rest of the pack?”

The group caught the signal, and stood up to greet us. I met Laketo’s six wives and seven children. Childcare was apparently a family business. It was the first time I met another species of the same age as me too.

I thought Laketo was big, but his wives stood at around seven to seven and half feet. About as tall as a Shil’vati. Being surrounded by a group of big, somewhat carnivorous, sentients was almost terrifying.

Right up until one of the Laketo’s children, Itaso wrapped her massive arms around me and exclaimed “you are ADORABLE!”

I discovered very quickly how social a pack of Rakiri get, and the big scary creatures became mentally tagged as just people with different features, like the Shil’vati.

After a few hours of conversation, being poked, prodded, asked another round of questions like “how much does a growing human eat?” and “Are males really the stronger gender?”

By the end of the impromptu party I was sitting there with a fruit drink holding when Oeta, Laketo’s youngest daughter and barely older than a toddler, waddled to me and looked up with sleep addled eyes before crawling into my lap and buried her face into my hair, promptly falling asleep. I tried to move her and got a few rumbly growls before she gripped tighter.

I held her awkwardly and called out to the nearest Rakiri. “Is this umm, normal?”

Laketo’s wife Teinla looked over and laughed uproariously, and called over to Laketo. “Looks like our daughter found a new favorite napping place!” In five minutes, Oeta was snoring soundly asleep while drooling profusely onto my shoulder.

“We should head back to the ship Klein.” Ruhal called as Iso’ka, another one of Laketo’s wives, took the sleeping kid from me. Oeta mumbled sleepily “no” before passing back out once she was settled on Iso’ka’s shoulder.

Me, Ruhal, Laketo, and Laketo’s wife Teinla walked away from the party and back to the ship. I was going to need a shower.

Ruhal:

As we approached the airlock I stopped “Li’kele, could you escort Klein back to his cabin? I need to speak to Laketo for a minute.”

Li’kele nodded and the two of them moved away. I turned to Laketo. “So, that was entertaining. What did you think of Klein?”

Laketo responded. “He is incredibly social, but he didn’t talk very positively about other humans. I take it that’s not normal?”

I made a noncommittal gesture. “I have no idea. Klein is the only human I’ve met. I would imagine most don’t have the same kind of grudge against their own species. Especially considering that we decided on a striking fist over a helping hand.”

Laketo’s ears swiveled back a bit, and Teinla looked around to see who or what might be listening “Is that.. wise to say?”

I told them. “It's an objective observation of my profession. We chose a violent option, and we must deal with the strategic consequences. Let me tell you right now you will be putting your family in a warzone, don’t forget it, no matter what reassurances the Imperium tells you.”

Laketo looked uncomfortable, but nodded, taking Teinla’s hand “They need caretakers, and our pack, and people, can prevent another generation of ‘Shil pups’.”

It was my turn to wince. ‘Shil pups’ was the derogatory term for Rakiri orphans during the Shil-Rakiri war. Taken and raised by Shil’vatii without regard to Rakiri psychology, diet, or psychology. No matter how many times the Imperium tried to censor it over the centuries it was still common knowledge.

I nodded. “Our mutual friend Militai seems dead set on preventing that very thing.”

It was Laketo’s turn. “What about Klein, should I be worried about him?”

I almost laughed at the depressing irony. “. ”

We said our goodbyes shortly after that. Li’kele turned to me as we entered the airlock. “I could report you of language unbecoming an officer.”

I turned towards her. “I doubt you would be able to find my chain of command to report it to. I don’t even know it anymore.”

Chapter 9: Chapter 9

Chapter Text

Klein:

The next day we entered the barbershop on the Mercy’s blessing. A Helkam woman whose webbed ears flared out in surprise when she saw me. “Oh hello! You must be my morning appointment! Sit down! Now what can I do for you?”

“Um I need to clean off my facial hair, fix the split ends and..” I looked over at Ruhal who nodded in support, I turned back. “I want to dye some of my hair.”

The Helkam woman looked like I had given her Christmas. “Well let’s get you started!”

By the end I was clean shaven for the first time since I started getting scruff. My blonde hair now had twisted braids of purple, red, and blue. It looked somewhat clownish to me, but the Helkam woman said it was still well in the bounds of normal polite style. I almost skipped out of the barbershop. I was pretty.

Again we were sitting in Ruhal’s cabin for movie night. Ruhal had his slate open, and a coffee analog at his side. Whatever human movie he was about to screen, it was important.

The start of a violin, and then a record scratch. Oh f*ck.

Fight Club. I paused the movie before the intro was halfway through. “Ruhal, to Shil’vati, this is basically violent p*rn.”

Ruhal made a note on his slate, and then took a drink to stall for a bit of time. “I’m not watching it in context of Shil’vati. I am watching in context of Humanity, and it’s brought up a lot in rants and diatribes I come across.”

The movie was paused often, and we discussed its main protagonist. The social structure he lived in, and how it related to me. About halfway through I stood up, feeling disgusted.

Ruhal asked “What’s wrong Klein?”

I was angry, I wanted to do something other than watch this Trollop spout pseudo-philosophy. “These assholes whine about ‘not finding purpose’ or some sh*t. There’s probably a homeless person who would kill for their lifestyle not a mile away. They somehow have time and money to kick the sh*t out of each other and afford the medical bills afterward. They have no responsibility besides themselves, but they are miserable and want to destroy other people’s lives as well.”

I spat in English “[f*cking manchild].”

I leaned over the counter. I knew I was pouting and being childish, but I couldn’t help it. Ruhal wrote some notes down and switched the display to a lighthearted Shil’vati animation. “How about something else?”

I grabbed a sugary snack and sat back down. The frosting barely registering on my taste buds as I mulled my own rant over. My thoughts raced around until bed that evening.

The next day me and Shetil did our rounds. Talk of my new haircut moved through the ship like wildfire as the slowly increasing number of ambulatory patients had little to occupy their time with conversed between cabins. Even Shetil seemed to be caught up in the chatty mood as she talked about home.

We were on our way to the last cabin. I was asking questions of the older woman. “So, what is it like having to deal with seven other wives and nine children? Because I can’t even imagine it.”

She laughed. “There are days here I would give anything for an hour of being home, and then there are days I pray for five minutes of peace. It’s constantly chaotic that makes long term care like this look boring.”

I laughed as I opened the door to the cabin. It sounded awesome compared to the sterile upbringing I was privy to. I looked in to see Yardi sleeping off the sedatives from her last round of surgeries, and Oatlse…

Oatlse was on the floor half-conscious and clutching her side. I could almost hear the Click sound of something in my head switching. I ran towards her and pulled open my diagnostic scanner before Shetil could even react. The screen immediately pulled up multiple warning message bars showing dangerously heightened levels of several electrolytes, but the flashing one was one of her prosthetic organs, similar to a kidney, had failed. It was never connected to the Ship network, so it never alerted anyone. I slammed the medical emergency button on the scanner.

Shetil finally was next to me calling medical dispatch. “Get me a medical team down here! Klein, we need to get her untangled from the sheets.”

Shetil pulled open the medical bag in the cart and fished out a pair of safety scissors. I pulled the sheet away as she cut. Finally Oatlse mumbled “help…”

Shetil put her hand on Oatlse’s shoulder “Don’t worry, everything will be fine.” Oatlse eyes fluttered closed again. We didn’t stop though; it wasn’t a head injury. Trying to keep her awake wouldn’t help her.

We dragged a now unconscious Oatlse out of the sheets as the trauma team came in. The Shil’vati assistant with an honest to goddess Gearschilde.

The Gearschilde had angular features and a burnt orange complexion. The defining characteristic though was the numerous cyberpunk augmentations. silvery arms and a multifaceted right red eye just to name two that I could note as I glanced up when the door opened before getting out of the way.

The gurney was wheeled in. The Gearschilde calmly said “we need to lift her, everyone, get on a side, on three, one, two THREE!”

Oatlse was on the gurney and the Shil’vati assistant was quickly hooking her up to the medical gurney to keep her asleep and stabilize her. The Gearschilde spoke up. “I will need you two orderlies for this, nothing complicated. Shetil stand here and assist Lo’cou with disconnecting the prosthetic and connecting Oatlse here to the Gurney’s life support. Klein, you stand here, and you will hold the failing [kidney] so they can do so.”

I didn’t know how the Gearschilde knew our names already, but I nodded an affirmative and stood where indicated as a clear plastic bubble with glovebox holes along the side of it went over Oatlse to create an instant isolated environment. A sterilizer over the soon to be incision area was applied.

The Gearschilde used the robotic arms inside the bubble to make the incision and as this happened Yardi woke up, adding chaos to the surprise surgery happening in her cabin. “What the damned!?”

I looked up to meet her eyes. “Quiet, surgery. I will explain later.”

I looked back down as the robotic arms brought the kidney-like organ to my hands. I held it gently and could see the tear in the prosthetic leaking blue-green liquid. The Gearschilde brought the arms back down to clean out the wound as other gloved hands pulled out hoses that had been grafted to blue arteries.

Once Shetil and Lo’cou were finished a hazardous waste bin opened. The Gearschilde spoke again as he finished his work with just a tinge of disgust at the malpractice “Klein if you could gently place that junk part in the bin so it doesn’t splatter, and then step away from the gurney.”

I did so, and I felt an icy chill as I noticed for the first time my gloves covered in dark blue blood. I shoved the feeling down as I pulled my perfectly clean hands away.

The Gearschilde then stepped away himself. “Sorry about the lack of introductions. I am Listens to Stories, a Gearschilde Surgeon Priest Apprentice. This is my assistant Lo’cou, and I will Congratulate you Klein on your helping with your first medical procedure. Now we need to Oatlse here to sugical so we can replace this with something less suicidal.”

The Gurney wheeled out and I saw the wide eyed Yardi staring at me. I could feel time start to move again. My thoughts started to spin up and “Yardi how would you like to go to the recovery lounge so I can explain whattheholysh*tf*cktit* just happened?”

Ruhal:

I headed towards the recovery lounge at a power walk as Shetil sent me a ‘Klein acting strange’ message. It wasn’t an emergency, but it was something that needed attention now.

I stepped into the lounge to see Klein. Hair pulled back into a ponytail and a loose smile as he was explaining to a female sergeant something about holding a prosthetic [kidney]? He was animated and talking boisterously. Gesticulating with his hands. The demeanor was not of a polite Shil male, but a teenage Shil female telling her latest misadventure, normally involving alcohol.

He looked my way and spread his arms wide, and used a Shil idiom. “Ruhal! I have had one stormy day!”

Shetil stood up, her face a smirk. “If you will excuse me, I need to get some paperwork done.”

I looked around the room. A few other recovering sergeants openly stared our way, mouths hung open. I spoke softly, urgently. “Klein let’s talk somewhere else, please.”

Something else in Klein’s brain kicked on when I said please. The loose smile folded into a hard look. “Yardi, I will tell you the rest later. My guardian needs to speak to me.”

We went back to my office, and as the cabin door slid closed, I fell into my chair. “I think you blew a bit of your act just now. Shil guys don’t behave like that, at least in public.”

Klein tilted his head in a question. “I thought you did?”

I put my feet up on my desk and tapped my breastplate. “Now I do. That would not be my reaction at your age.”

Klein closed his eyes and scrunched up his face in cringe, realizing his social awkwardness. “[f*ck], sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I was just caught up in it.”

I put on an easy smile and sat up. “Klein, it’s nothing to be sorry about. You just got excited is all.”

Klein nodded, but the realization of what he did, even harmless, put a full stop to the emotional high he had. The facial features drooped a bit, and he rubbed his eyes. I decided to make a quick decision, for my own sake. “Klein, let’s take tomorrow off. You had a long day, and it is Shel tomorrow.”

He started to yawn as he nodded. “Yeah, that sounds nice…”

I walked him to his cabin, and on the way back Dr. Lital messaged me. “What happened!? Klein’s body had a massive spike then a dropoff in-.”

I cut him off. “There was a medical emergency he helped with. Everyone’s fine, do you see anything I should worry about?”

Lital responded. “No, his levels dropped off and are about what they were mid-afternoon, but the way he reacted. That’s dozens of interactions that prime him.”

I yawned myself, cutting Lital off “Doctor. I’m trying to keep a human youth occupied and focused while also writing report after report. I do not have the mental capacity to go into neurochemistry. He’s fine, correct?”

Dr. Lital stumbled but agreed. “C-orrect.”

I responded sleepily. “Then I’m going to my cabin and getting sleep, and in the morning, I will send out a few messages to my family, then I might be able to understand your opinion.”

I clicked off after goodbyes and shuffled to my cabin. The training, the learning, the reports, and now this had finally sent me over the edge. I had been going non-stop since Earth. It was early evening, but I felt the exhaustion drag me down.

I tore off the breast plate and left the dress clothes on the floor. Crashing into bed I fell asleep almost immediately.

Chapter 10: Chapter 10

Chapter Text

Klein:

It must have been that we were nearing the end of the trip because Li’kele seemed in a better than usual mood today as she brought me up to the training center. As usual, Dr. Lital and Ruhal were already here doing their light exercises. Li’kele turned around to face me with a predatory smile. “Today, Little Fighter, we are doing a ‘burn off’ circuit meant to test the endurance of full-fledged commandos. Let’s see how you do.”

And so it began. Sprints, push-ups, sit-ups, and every variation in-between. I would have felt silly, but I was too busy keeping up with the exercises to think. A full circuit lasted from what I read from the gym clock and converted to human time was close to an hour, I was exhausted, and it hurt to move. Li’kele was similarly breathing hard. “[Ten minute] …. break, then we start up again.”

There was no way I could last another round of this. I was starting to feel dread when Ruhal’s shadow eclipsed the overhead lights, and he crouched down to speak to me at eye level. “Here, I think this might help.”

In his hands was a chocolate bar and Red Bull. I could feel the smiling tugging on my face when he brought out his omni-pad. “I also was able to get your old computer music files converted from your laptop. Would you like to listen to anything?”

It was Christmas, it had to be. I tapped on my old playlist labeled heart attack special, a potent mix of electronica and metal I had saved for the days I really needed a pick-me-up. The first electric cords of the Doom soundtrack shocked my brain awake again. By the time I finished my Red Bull and candy bar, I was bouncing on the balls of my feet. “I’m Ready!” I called out as I ran towards a dumbfounded Li’kele.

Ruhal:

I thought I knew what a human, or at least Klein, was capable of. I did not. Klein had turned the gym floor slick with sweat, but he was still smiling, and still doing every exercise Instructor Li’kele commanded even as she herself was barely able to keep up. The music blared a heavy, galloping beat.

I turned to Dr. Lital who could not decide whether to watch the medical readouts or Klein who right now seemed to defy common sense biology. “What did you have me give him Dr. Lital?”

“It was a common caffeinated drink. Just some supplements and sugar. Chocolate is similar, both are common enough to be available in any store on Earth,” Dr. Lital responded.

Watching them, I saw Instructor Li’kele stop and sit down. Her breath hitched as she wheezed, and behind me was the soft gasp of “By the Goddess.”

Turning around, I saw Vali, one of Klein’s gym group members, standing at the door as Klein walked over to check on Instructor Li’kele, back turned. I cut off the music and walked up to the confused woman.

“Corporal, I don’t think you should be here,” I said.

Vali pointed at Klein. “Sir, what is he? That kid, wait, is he a kid?”

I had betted on Klein’s polite manner and colorful appearance to deflect even those who had encountered Humans up close to see him as a tuskless Shil kid. Unfortunately, that strategy was starting to falter.

Embellishing the truth somewhat, I explained, “Yes, he’s still considered a child, but he’s very energetic and needs more than one workout session to keep him from getting antsy, though I think tomorrow he won’t be joining you for morning exercise. That was a bit much even for him.”

Vali took it in, but was still clearly confused. “But that’s not a normal trainer, is it? Isn’t that a commando?”

I looked up at Vali dead in the eye. “Possibly, which is why you should leave Corporal before I make it an order.”

Klein:

“You ok?” I asked Instructor Li’kele.

“Yeah, just… need to… catch my breath...” She wheezed.

I stepped back and sat down, my eyes stinging from sweat. “That was... a lot. How many times can a commando go through that ‘burn off’ exercise?”

Li’kele laughed. “Most don’t make it through the first round, and only a few augmented ones can handle two. It’s meant to test a recruit to failure. You are going to kill some poor woman one day through exhaustion alone.”

I co*cked my head. Genuinely curious. “What do you mean?”

Instructor Li’kele blushed a little. “You don’t know? Well, you’ll find out one day. I will have a strange story to tell my wives.”

I asked. “What about your husband?”

“All-female marriage, no husband,” She responded. “Most of us don’t care for men, and it’s a hard deal trying to find a man in the regular military, much less when you are on constant deployment.”

I let that run through my head for a while until Ruhal came up. “Klein, Instructor Li’kele, are you two okay?”

I nodded while Li’kele made a very rude gesture.

Ruhal smiled. “I will take that as a yes. Klein, are you able to stand? I have something to return to you.”

After I finished cleaning up Ruhal escorted me to his cabin where my old backpack was sitting on the coffee table, or at least what I considered a coffee table.

Ruhal gave me an adapter to charge my laptop as well as an emulator program for my omni-pad. I pulled out my old work clothes and threw them into the trash, along with my old homework, though I kept the last paper I received a grade on as a reminder of why I wouldn’t look back.

A grade of ‘C’ with the comment “Not your greatest work, I expect more effort next time.”

Well f*ck you too, Mr. English two teacher.

As I pulled out the miniature I felt a change in the air. Looking around, I noticed Ruhal looked expectant. Putting the miniature on the coffee table, I said, “I don’t need him anymore; you can have him.”

Ruhal:

I picked up the toy soldier. Most of what Klein was pulling out of his old life was immediately getting thrown away. I had to ask finally, giving up on subtlety. “What did the Krieg soldier mean to you?”

Klein shrugged. “That if he could keep fighting, I was going to keep fighting.”

I thought to mention that the Kreig soldier was fictional and not bound by biology, but decided that was a conversation for later.

I walked away to put the toy soldier on my desk. Klein was busy pursuing his old laptop and checking the same files on his omni-pad directory. Music, shows, and video games were quickly getting copied and organized into his already burgeoning library of Shil’vati entertainment.

It was time I finally brought up future planning. “What do you want to do once we get to Sky?” Before Klein could ask, I explained myself. “It’s my home planet.”

Klein nodded, before finally looking up, his fingers still dancing over the keyboard. “What do you mean by ‘do’?”

I tried to clarify. “What do you want to be? What would you want to do? You’ve seen enough of Shil’vati culture to get some of the things that will be available to you.”

Klein was still not understanding. He stopped typing and tried to process what I was saying. “What do I need to do?”

I was going to argue that he didn’t need to do anything, but Klein’s body language showed a genuine mix of curiosity and confusion. Stretching, I went and grabbed a drink to process.

Klein had spent most of his later childhood years in survival mode, and total freedom to do what he wanted was difficult for him to comprehend. He required a structure of ‘need to do’ to base what he wanted to do around.

“Well, you need to have a basic education and that requires concentrated study so you can test into classes. You also need to socialize with people your own age. There’s the youth auxiliary which I think every kid does at least for a few years. I would also suggest you should go with Reqellia, my wife, to the Rakiri gym down the road for group exercises.”

“Works for me,” Klein responded offhandedly as he went back to play with his omni-pad and computer.

I watched him type on physical keys, and stifled a laugh as I realized Klein had once again delved into a task and the rest of the world had melted away from his awareness.

I sat next to him, half-listening while he rambled about Human culture. I of course asked a few questions about how this or that worked, but for the first time in months I felt at home.

It was nice to be with family.

Chapter 11: Chapter 11

Chapter Text

Klein:

The knock on the door was a degree more subdued the last few days. Vali had tailed me when Instructor Li’kele and I had our battle of wills the other day. She asked me about it, and while I gave her carefully considered answers, I was aging bit by bit with each question, and I couldn’t keep the mask on much longer.

I talked about my old job at a convenience store with its lurid and often shocking stories. I also couldn’t help pushing past my comfort zone when weightlifting now as I enjoyed the soreness in my arms afterwards. It was the last day I was on the Mercy’s Blessing that Vali finally had the courage to ask me directly.

“K’ien, how old are you really?” Vali queried, giving my Human name in Shil’vati a clipped, sticky pronunciation.

I let go of the pull bar of the machine I was on, and it was the last day. I decided to answer truthfully, and in Shil’vati terms. “Just a year away from being able to sign up for military service.”

I could have heard a pin drop as the gym fell still, their perception of me started to shift from cute anime girl to that uncomfortable age of where I was almost old enough to be a potential partner.

I should have lied. It was obvious I had crushed the group dynamic. “Umm, it’s your last day,” Vali said awkwardly. “I think we should cut this early and let you pack.”

She led me back to my cabin silently, the absence of the friendly banter of the past few days leaving a void. As I turned around to face her at my cabin entrance, I could see how conflicted she was, trying to figure out how she should react to me.

I needed to give her an explanation.

“It wasn’t fair to play myself off as so young, but I was told it was the safest thing I could do besides locking myself in my cabin.”

Vali closed her eyes, and I could see her nostrils flare a bit as she steadied her breath. “I don’t blame you, but no one likes being misled. It feels malicious.”

“Can you explain?” I asked. “In all honesty I still don’t understand. The role was just my way of fitting in here.”

Vali sighed. “You will. I had to escort my younger brother often, and some of the shoutouts he got were… unpleasant. I did my share of bloodying noses with my sisters.”

Then she smiled slyly and offered the Shil’vati custom of a fist bump. “I don’t doubt you’d be more than a match for most gutter trash, you take care out there K’ien.”

I met with my own knuckles, and for the first time offered my contact info. “Let’s stay in touch.”

She looked awkward at first, then took it, and offered her own. “You are probably going to have more to write about than me. I’m only halfway through my yearlong tour, and you have been the most interesting thing about it*.”

*Author’s note: Vali has 10 months left in human terms. Shil’vati years are 5/3rds Earth standard.

After Vali’s goodbye, I went about the rest of my day as usual, though I was fascinated to watch as news about me spread through the ship like a plague, jumping from person to person. By the time Shetil picked me up for my afternoon job, it had saturated the conversation of the ship.

“No one quite knows what to make of you, but at least our last day should be interesting,” Shetil commented ruefully as we started our shift.

She wasn’t wrong. The renewed and supercharged efforts to get my contact info got downright annoying among the youngest of marines and required a few hard looks from Shetil. Mq’uali however was… disheartened.

“Hello. I’m doing well. No issues with the prosthetics,” She said in a small voice as she lifted her arm for me. She even flinched a little when I touched her hand to steady it. The scanner pinged all good for her bloodwork, a duty I had been assigned since Oatlse had her ‘incident’.

“Everything okay Mq’uali?” I asked, concerned about her mental state.

She almost said yes, then shook her head no, a gesture that was surprisingly universal among Shil and Humans. “You lied about your age.”

I almost went through the same conversation as Vali, but Mq’uali quickly explained, “I’m not mad about it! I just hate that you felt you needed to. I was down on Earth for just two weeks, and every human I met was so scared of me. Looked at me as I was some kind of monster. It was nice that a human was being kind to me, but now it feels worse to know you were hiding from me too.”

I felt my expression soften as I pulled out my omni-pad and gave Mq’uali my contact address while the other patient in the room was distracted by Shetil. I smiled and whispered, “Don’t tell anyone, but write when you can.”

Mq’uali was stunned for a heartbeat, and then a quiet, little expression of happiness made her glow.

“Thank you,” She whispered back.

I always kept Oatlse and Yardi as last for the shift. Oatlse had gained a grudging respect for me, and Yardi still loved to wheedle me for hair brushing and braiding.

I was happy to see Oatlse sitting out at the folding table in the cabin with her lower, mostly mechanical, body covered loose fitting pants. Yardi had traded her medical bed that was no longer needed for a sofa so she could lounge. She held up her omni-pad to her face with only slight tremors in her replacement arm, an improvement I was glad to see.

Yardi looked up and beamed as she put her Omni-pad down. “K’ien! Come in!”

After medical checkups Shetil started to move the cart out. “Yardi, do you think you have the strength to escort K’ien back up to the medical dispatch? We are done for the day, and I’d like to fill out my medical reports sooner rather than later.”

“Sure!” Yardi agreed immediately.

Oatlse pointedly kept reading after putting in headphones to give us a modicum of privacy. Yardi talked first. “So, what are you going to do after you leave the Mercy’s Blessing?”

I sat down beside her as I felt the words rapidly bubble out of me. “I don’t know, but Ruhal wants me to go to a Rakiri gym and join something called the ‘Youth’s Auxiliary.’ Can I brush your hair?” I asked awkwardly. “I’m fidgety.”

Yardi turned around and I started to brush and braid as she explained what she knew. “I don’t know much about Rakiri gyms, except that they can be messy, but the Youth’s Auxiliary was fun! A lot of days running around with friends doing things like road maintenance, or at the clinic, things you do now.”

I turned Yardi’s long hair into a smooth double braid. Letting my hands work as her answer led me to my next question. “What is the Auxiliary?”

“Well, it’s the branch government services that aren’t related to defense. Things like medical services, maintaining infrastructure, and disaster relief. The Youth’s Auxiliary does local work with field trips a few times a year around the planet, and sometimes even a separate habitable planet in the same star system.”

Shil’vati scouts. Well, it wasn’t the worst thing I could think of.

With her hair up I noticed Yardi’s neck muscles were asymmetrical. One side was smooth while the other side bulged. It was odd since one of the advantages I read a advantage to Shil’vati blue blooded muscle structure compared to red blooded Rakiri and Humans was the lack of muscle knotting.

“Yardi, your neck looks painful. You feeling ok?”

She moved her neck around a bit and rubbed the area with her hand. “Yeah… Doc said it’s the way my prosthetic arm is connected to what tissue is left of my shoulder and that it can be fixed at a regular clinic. I get some muscle relaxants for it, but it still hurts from time to time.”

I had an idea. “Can I touch your shoulder?

Yardi was quizzical and uncharacteristically prudish. “Sure? Nothing comes off though.”

I used the other side of her shoulder for reference at what it should feel like, then kneaded a shoulder muscle that felt out of place. Yardi whimpered a bit as I felt the muscle loosen.

“What are you doing!?” Oatlse asked, surprised by the noise. Apparently she wasn’t using those headphones.

“Trying to loosen up these muscles in her neck,” I explained as I worked up the shoulder to the head. Feeling my way to what was knotted. Damn, they need a non-Shil physical therapist on the ship’s medical team. Since Oatlse had her incident, Shetil had given me stacks of medical literature she would grill me on. I had picked through them, and I knew the Shil’vati had discovered massage therapy from other species, but it was obscure to Shil. Part of Xeno-medical treatments.

“T-that feels so much better,” Yardi groaned, her eyes closed in relief as I worked up the shoulder.

Oatlse was flabbergasted. “Should you be letting him do that?”

Yardi laughed. “I consider this”-she pointed at the shoulder I was massaging-“a long needed treatment, not an advance to anything.”

I stopped after five minutes, letting Yardi move her neck and shoulder in smooth and clean motions. Holding her hand out still as a stone, she grinned at an amazed Oatlse. “That feels better. K’ien, want to head out?”

“Wait, K’ien…” Oatlse said and put down her book as she stood up shakily on her new robotic legs and held out her hand in the human gesture of greeting, though she looked apprehensive about it.

“I’m sorry for how I behaved sometimes. I still am not a fan of humans, but I think you are one of the good ones. This,”-she tapped her metal legs-“was from a suicide bomber when I was unarmed and handing out food packets.”

I put my hand out slowly and grasped hers gently. She flinched, but only a little reassurance for her to calm down. “It’s ok, Oatlse. I never blamed you for being hostile towards me.”

We shook hands, and Oatlse seemed to relax her shoulders as she bid me farewell. “Take care out in the universe, K’ien.”

Walking back to the medical dispatch center, Yardi talked about her own plans. “By the time I finish healing, my first enlistment will be over, and my family will want me out of the military. ‘One and done’ was my mothers’ advice. I will probably go home, but I think I’ll take the long way back. See the universe without a rifle.”

Backpacking through the galaxy sounded fun. I gave her my contact info. “I want to hear all about it, Yardi. Write to me when you can!”

Yardi smiled and gave me her info as well. “I will!”

I stayed with Shetil, helping her with paperwork until it was time to leave the medical dispatch station of the Mercy’s Blessing for the last time. While we went over outpatient care documents. I percolated a quizzical feeling into words. “What’s different about Oatlse and Yardi from other Marines ? I could never lash it down. *”

Author’s note* “lash it down” is a Shil’vati idiom like “Can’t put my finger on it.”

Shetil stopped writing for a few seconds to consider the question before answering. “Well, they are both {not-sexually-attracted}, and so for better or worse they don’t see males in the same light. It’s also why they are in the same cabin. They are the only two aboard.”

I mulled over the High Shil word over. I understood it as asexual in human terms, and from some Shil’vati historical war movies I saw, they were considered a rare pain in the ass good luck charm. An occasionally needed wet blanket in delicate situations.

Ruhal:

We stepped off the Mercy’s Blessing and into that particular limbo only found at core world transit stations. Klein tried not to ogle everything and everyone, but he was losing that battle as the dozen or so mainline species within the empire milled about.

Li’kele was still playing bodyguard since we were all going to the same passenger ship, the Skyline Express III. It was one of the modified long range passenger ships that could make the long haul from New Shel system to the isolated Sky system in the required single hop.

I spun around as I felt a tap on my shoulder. No one should be able to sneak up on us. I came face to face with the elderly Dr. Lital without his signature cane or slight hunch. He looked younger, more energetic, and for some reason it gave me a chill.

“Sorry to scare you, but I’m heading on a different ship. It was a pleasure to work with you,” He said as he extended a fist to me.

I returned the gesture cautiously. “I feel the same, but what are you?”

He smiled in a way that was no longer endearing and somehow off-putting. “Let’s just say I was not always just a trauma doctor.”

With that he left. I turned back to a shocked Li’kele and curious Klein. I could only answer, “I have no idea what that was about.”

I paid extra for a family multi-cabin suite with a common area. That way Li’kele could stay on as our security and enjoy having a living area as well. We only put down our bags when I asked Klein for help folding away all the furniture in the living room.

I pulled out two training batons, and handed one to Klein, giving him a speech. one I had both dreaded and hoped to make in equal measure. “Even when we get to Sky, you are going to be the target of harassment and possible abduction. Until you can regularly match me in a fight with a baton, you will need to have a female escort. Do you understand?”

Klein nodded but seemingly wanted some clarification. “What happens after I can match you?”

I smiled. “Then you can go alone in the neighborhood during the day, and I get to scratch something off my lifelong wish list.”

We started with the basic exercises and a few basic strikes. After half an hour I switched with Li’kele, who continued the lesson while I ordered food from the ship galley. Klein was more hungry than exhausted by the time the food arrived. Li’kele rested against the wall while we rolled the furniture out again.

By the end of the day, with full stomachs, we each went to our separate small bedrooms. I lay on my bed turning the toy soldier over in my hands as I contemplated.

Klein had proven himself to be incredibly complex and multifaceted. He was kind, friendly, and masculine in the Shil’vati sense of the word. He loved speaking in High Shil whenever he got the chance to practice. Drinking in the old dramas and plays, while reading any time I gave him the chance. I was looking forward to the clothing and makeup expenses he would rack up. Wondering how he would style himself, especially on Sky with its celebrated multi-species culture.

He was also tenacious as a half-starved Turox without losing an iota of that charm. He enjoyed pushing himself to his ever expanding physical limit, and jumped into stressful situations feet first, bragging about it later. A trait none of my daughters or nieces, let alone my nephews, shared.

“A son,” I whispered the word again. It was no longer merely an intellectual exercise, but something I wanted to be true. I put the toy soldier back on the nightstand, turned over, and went to sleep with the knowledge that soon I would once again trade my military life for a domestic one.

Dr. Lital personal journal:

The Subject, when administered mild stimulants and vitamin supplements, was able to push past even a fully-trained Death’s Head Commando, though I will admit the commando was past her prime age. The Subject is still only at average for athletic ability, even with sufficient diet and quick growth of muscle due to standard iron-based healing gel.

By the end of our four weeks, The Subject had a constant weight gain of [two lbs.] per week, consisting primarily of muscle. I assume this is past replenishment and now in an improvement stage.

I believe with Shil’vati medical technology and a sufficiently strenuous training regime, a Human can surpass any Death’s Head Commando I augmented in the past, no matter how invasive those surgeries were. I will put any direct contact with The Subject on hold until they have reached a physical plateau.

Chapter 12: Chapter 12: Floofy childcare part 1

Chapter Text

Laketo:

I stepped out from the hot, hard packed dirt and into the cooler cavernous bay. The shiny purple metal floors and glaring overhead lights gave the large-scale hangar turned childcare center a sterile atmosphere.

Dr. Danni walked stiffly beside me. The pediatrician was ‘in charge’ of the fifty or so children and she had been run haggard by trying to care for so many parentless children, but even dead on her feet she was wary of bringing me near children.

I could understand why. I was a large carnivorous looking creature that had been hurriedly presented by Captain T’salo who oversaw the refugee camp, then ordered us to ‘inspect’ the children. It was a poor choice of words even through the translator.

Most of the room was still empty, but in the corner were beds surrounding what could be best described as a fortress consisting of pillows and mattresses. The children peeked out from behind their covers with some wary, some terrified. The ages ranged from barely weaned to a few almost-adults.

Dr. Danni spoke in three different languages, one after another so they would all understand. “Children, this is Mr. Laketo. He is a childcare specialist.”

I bowed deeply then sat down on the floor cross legged with a closed mouth smile on my face and crinkled my eyes. I tilted in my head and forced myself to relax so that one of my ears flopped to the side*add note*. “Hello children, it's nice to finally meet you.”

I pulled out some colored chalk from my vest pocket and started to draw trees and grass on the shiny purple floor, as I knew it could be easily cleaned off. Addressing them, I asked, “Would anyone like to draw with me?”

The translator conveyed my offer, but the kids stayed in the relative safety of their corner. I turned to Dr. Danni. “Would you like to draw with me Doctor?”

Dr. Danni took the excuse to sit almost before my translator finished. We drew for a few minutes. Her hand movements unsteady from exhaustion. Kesaro, our pack’s medic, really needed to take a look at her.

“[KITTY]!” came a squeal from inside the fortress as a child barely older than [three human years]1 came running towards me on unsteady legs before falling face first on the floor right at my feet. The child’s wailing was universally understood, and I deftly picked up and held them in the crook of my elbow. Holding my painted and filed to nub claws in front of their face to distract them from the pain they were most surely feeling.

The child grasped one of my fingers and squealed with laughter as they repeated the same word, “[KITTY]!”

Using a simple greeting I learned in a dozen languages during the weeks’ long trip to get here, I introduced myself to the excited child. “My name is Laketo, what’s your name?”

The child looked up in amazement, then said, “I’m Ada!”

“I’ve never heard her speak…” Dr. Danni whispered, trailing off as I looked between her and the child.

Reaching into my pocket, I handed her a piece of chalk and used my translator to ask, “Would you like to draw something Ada?”

Ada took the chalk, crawled out of my arms, and started to draw on the floor. That’s when the flood gates opened, and the children left their base and approached me en masse.

The relief must have been overwhelming for Dr. Danni. After five minutes of watching me, she found a wall to lean against and promptly fell asleep.

I brought more chalk out and started to interview each child. My glasses recording so that the rest of the pack watching could start the laborious process of getting information and sketching out a care plan.

An hour later when the children started to get tired, I woke Dr. Danni up. “Sorry to do this, but I think we need to talk if you had enough rest to think.”

She looked at me blearily. Groaning, she forced herself up and nodded. “Sure, what do you need?”

“Is there someone who can take over for you for a few hours?” I asked. “I want to talk to you privately about care.”

Dr. Danni nodded her head, but then added, “I think I can only spare an hour.”

She turned to the group and asked, “Hana, Katren, Rami! Can you watch over the children? Get them in the safe area.”

Three almost adults looked up, nodded, and started herding some of the younger kids back to the soft fortress with severe expressions of anxiety and determination.

As they got to work, I led Dr. Danni to the hangar across from us where we started our introductions. It seemed Dr. Danni had not been told of the help she would be receiving. In fact, she hadn’t been given much more than food and medical supplies. She hadn’t even realized there were other refugees in the camp.

That was only one of the first shocks for Dr. Danni. No education on even the basics of Shil’vati society, or what kind of aid she was legally required to receive. The marines just bundled her and the children they found in a few transports and dumped them here two weeks ago. Her only interaction was with the guards at the entrance, and Captain T’salo who had kept this compound on lockdown.

Dr. Danni rubbed her eyes. “Let me get this straight, you left the family daycare on a planet called ‘Dirt’ to be professional parents to orphans on Earth. The whole family is involved, and the gender ratio is six females to one male, and males are expected to be caretakers after the child is weaned.”

I nodded. “That’s correct”

“And you invaded…. why?” Dr. Danni asked, her eyes unfocused by the info dump.

“The Shil’vati Empire did. Us Rakiri were one of the first conquered species,” I explained, All while feeling the bite of my father’s words before I left. ‘You want to serve those who subjugate us.’

Dr. Danni, even sleep deprived, thankfully could tell this was a complex and sore subject and dropped it. “Well, I will take all the help I can get, and with seven caretakers is plenty of staff.”

“In some ways fourteen, my children will also be helping, but I doubt Oeta, my youngest, will be more than an extra blanket for a while longer.”

That got a chuckle from my family, but Dr. Danni just stared at them, realization getting through her stress-addled brain. “…This is the first bit of hope I have gotten all month. Well… let’s introduce you to them.”

The meet and greet quickly devolved into the controlled chaos of a party as we introduced ourselves to the dozens of children. While the language barrier was there, hand gestures and translators made quick work of most misunderstandings between the kids.

Three of my pack set up an awning and put food by the ton down on tables along with a hand washing station. The children, both the humans and my own, were dragging two large boxes across a flattened dirt field until they were in front of the three hangars being used as the childcare center.

“Football!” one of the human kids yelled at me as they ran onto the field. I watched while keeping supervision over Ada and my youngest daughter Oeta while they played on a blanket with softwood blocks riddled with bite marks from when Oeta was teething. The constant smattering of three different languages by both of them showed a marked improvement in Ada’s behavior.

The game was simultaneously played and taught with kids swapping in and out to get food. Points weren’t even kept as the black and white ball moved from one side of the field to the other and back again.

By dusk the children were exhausted and we herded them to the shower facility. Dr. Danni, seemingly recharged after getting a quiet place to sleep for a few hours, helped us with long overdue medical checks. Thankfully nothing was an immediate rush to a medical center, but it was apparent we would need a litany of medical specialists, and at least some would have to be human. Alien medicine and diet would have unforeseen consequences no matter what.

Tonight my bed would be a mattress on the floor next to the door. Some habits my father drilled into me would never leave. I now had a lot more children to protect.

Telina laid down and curled around me. Nuzzling the back of my head. “I was worried at first, but thank you for convincing me this was the right decision,” She whispered while I listened to the low chorus of snoring.

I fell asleep before I could respond.

Chapter 13: Chapter 13

Chapter Text

Klein:

I rolled away from the soft light as I heard the low engine-like thrum of my slow wake up alarm. As the hum became a higher pitched buzz, and the soft light sharpened into a glare, I finally sat up and slammed it off. I shrugged off the covers, crawling out of bed as I stretched in the spacious and still mostly barren bedroom. My body now loose, I put on the light workout clothes that Shil’vati would find freezing for the “chilly” [75 Fahrenheit] mornings on Sky.

I walked out my bedroom and down the open hallway to the courtyard. Running my hands along the purple sheened metal walls inlaid with golden script. I trotted around the courtyard and went to the kitchen to grab breakfast.

Reqellia, one of Ruhal’s wives and my gym partner, was already there. The smirk on her face knew she was enjoying beating me to breakfast again. “Good morning!” She greeted cheerfully before shoveling another portion of dinner leftovers into her mouth.

“Good morning,” I replied sleepily as I padded over to the pantry and grabbed a smaller protein bar and my daily supplements. I couldn’t stomach anything heavier right before a run. I gulped it down with water as I turned around and noticed the small scratch marks on Reqellia's neck. I still felt off about it, but it was comforting to see a healthy marriage.

“Good night?” I asked, starting up the banter.

Reqellia didn’t even have the sense of shame to blush. “It’s always a good night when your husband is home,” She said as she put her plate in the cleaner. “Come on! If we don’t get moving I’m going to get cold.”

We trotted out the front gate and towards the gym with the dark sky only starting to turn brighter. The quiet tap of shoes hitting the walkway toward Silverbay city was all the rhythm I needed to zone out and think about the last few weeks.

-----

That first day…

-----

That first day was a blur of goodbyes to the crew, passengers of the Skyline III, and Instructor Li’kele, who was headed to another part of the planet. The half dozen transfers through the space port, and then hellos to a whole new cast of people.

The news that Ruhal was coming back only arrived a few days before we did, and only the family that lived on Sky itself were able to join the welcoming party. I met Ruhal’s wives Telia, Siltan, and Reqellia at the spaceport, who were overjoyed to see their husband back so soon.

The rest of the welcoming party included a lot of family. Two of Ruhal’s three children that still lived on Sky. Kel’ha was still going to school in the capital city of Thunderhead, though the High Shil word meant something more akin to fire cloud from an active spaceport during the early days of colonization.

Kel’ha seemed chipper and was definitely excited to meet me. Her days were spent trying to balance hypothetical budgets for enterprises and writing proposal after proposal for infrastructure projects around Sky as part of her class work.

Then there was Ruhal’s eldest child Tel’dara with her snide remarks towards me in High Shil during the party that breached several social conventions even if she was next in line to be matriarch. During the milling about before dinner Ruhal whispered with a humorous lilt in his voice, “She doesn’t know you understand High Shil. Don’t let her think otherwise until I signal you to.”

We later sprung the trap during dinner when Ruhal asked me what I thought of Tel’dara in High Shil, to which I responded in kind, {“She seems to have a willfully ignorant and undervalued opinion of me, and I hope her mistakes tonight only ease her burden she has to carry on the way home”}.

Pulling in the right turns of phrase, and a two-century old euphemism, gave the sentence just the hint of a triplet rhyme scheme to drive the point home. The whole room went silent until Ruhal spoke. “Tel’dara, that’s why I want you to spend some time traveling to other home worlds and getting a proper education about other species, or you will continue to make an idiot of yourself when presented with something new.”

Tel’dara’s drama didn’t spoil the night though. There were plenty of friendly cousins, aunts, and uncles to talk to. The fact I knew High Shil opened figurative doors with many of the adults.

I discovered I had to keep the topics bland though to prevent conversation from becoming too dark with my recent history. It involved a lot of deflection on exactly how I was here already.

The flaming cherry on top of the night was Ruhal’s own father Kal’hara. His five wives, and male “friend” Mak’sa who was traveling with one of his own wives; however, no amount of perceived cultural barrier could mask that Kal’hara and Mak’sa stood just a little too close to each other.

‘Not a word, not a single comment’ Squirrel brain echoed in my head. I knew there were some serious taboos on gay males. I still didn’t know that cultural minefield, and I wasn’t going to poke it now.

It was still fun to listen Kal’hara’s story of his turoxes getting loose and wrecking half an already seeded field hunting bugs.

By the end of the night, Reqellia showed me to my new room, and I passed out still wearing heirloom clothes. They would need to be tailored to fit me, but it was the nicest thing I wore in my life.

-----

Present day…

-----

“Klein… Klein, you there?”

Pulling myself back to the present, I realized I had fallen behind.

“Yeah, I’m here. I was just thinking about when I arrived,” I explained while putting on a quick burst of speed. As I got closer, I asked, “Why was Tel’dara so condescending to me?”

Reqellia’s boisterous laugh echoed down the walkway. “It was towards us. Tel’dara has ambition, drive and intelligence, but she’s never been humbled. ‘Thinks Ruhal has a ‘bad habit’ of taking care of ‘strays.”

As we neared the gym, I slowed down to a walk and asked, “What do you mean?”

She turned around and gave me a lopsided grin. “Ruhal inherited his father’s legacy of being the oddball of the family. He only has three children, so anytime one of his siblings has a child who doesn’t quite fit we take them in for a while. Ruhal might be a wonderful man, but he’s a terrible house husband, so it means I’m taking care of them.”

I was still confused. “How does that relate to you and strays?”

Reqellia bounced on her feet as she turned back around to face forward. The spring in her step getting more pronounced as we reached the front yard of the gym. Energy brimming in her words as she explained, “After I retired from being a commando, I’ve been a full-time housewife, and haven’t had a ‘real job’ since.”

I stopped and tried to process what I heard. “Wait, I thought you were a Strike Team-?”

But it was too late as she bounded up the gym’s wide steps to its wrap around patio. I sighed as I started to walk up the gym steps myself. That mystery would have to wait till later.

Hario, the gym’s owner, towered at the gym’s double doors, an imposing eight feet frame with professionally shorn gray fur speckled with brown, and a close-cropped mane of hair. The whole left half of her face had been reconstructed with synthetic soft black ‘fur’ tipped at the ends with a hint of golden dye to give the texture an artistic metallic sheen.

Her dichromatic eyes of mechanical yellow and natural green flicked down toward us. The top halves of both ears were reconstructed and tattooed in bright red scrollwork that seemed to glow in the morning sunlight which sharply contrasted the black fur they were embossed in. She gave a fearless, open mouthed Rakiri smile, showing her teeth. The right half a natural bone white, and the reconstructed left half a bare silver metal.

Hario was light on the details of how she lost half her face. Only that it involved destroying an Exo with a cutting torch. I also knew she paid a small fortune to a Gearschilde surgeon-artist to turn her mess of scar tissue into a romantic era painting full of life and drama.

Hario greeted us three times a week the usual way, loudly. “Reqellia! My old strike-mate, it’s wonderful to see you again, and K’ein! You’ve grown again!”

Reqellia gave her a passing one-armed hug. “It’s nice to see you too! How are your nieces and nephews?”

“Fat, happy, and playful!” The reply was a standard Rakiri pleasantry, but with Reqellia, Hario’s responses were filled with genuine gusto.

As we stepped past Hario and into the Rakiri Gym. Reqellia zipped up her jacket to ward off the air conditioning chill.

A Rakiri “gym” was a massive, enclosed building with a football field sized area of rock-free dirt that could be dug and piled up to create any number of terrains. From flat plains to hills and valleys, with an overhead water delivery system coupled with drains and pumps that could create creeks, ponds, light rain, or a torrential downpour. The workouts were constructive, often literally so using logs and sandbags as building materials or weights, depending on the exercise.

I had come to understand that for many Rakiri with sedentary jobs. Going to the gym was the best way, besides hunting, to prevent work related zoomies from tearing up offices or schools.

Today the workout area consisted of a single lake in the center with two empty basins at either end with raised platforms where four figures each stood stretching. ‘Pacers’ who would keep cadence of what I assumed would be two teams with massive drums. I was curious about the digging tools surrounding the platforms. What were we going to do today?

First time I walked though this gym three weeks ago I got a few leers and a catcall, which was immediately silenced when Hario cuffed the offending woman on the back of the head and threw her out. She had returned only a week ago, chagrined, and hadn’t made eye contact with me once.

Today I walked a little more confidently. “River!” Itaro, Hario’s oldest niece, called as she waved me over. The nickname was an excuse to address me without my human name snagging on Shil vowels. I picked up a sandbag for my strength level and threaded through the different cliques of the gym.

“How are you Itaro?” I asked as I dropped my sandbag.

“Well Fed! You?” Itaro responded.

“Well fed also. Reqellia is going to give me cooking lessons on making Turox steak.”

I could see just a hint of hunger as Itaro’s eyes widened a bit at that. “Steak?” Despite her affirmations of being well fed, it was a rare occasion she got a large meal containing almost all protein. Being near adulthood, it was somewhat expected that Itaro supplemented her own diet while her younger growing sisters and brother got the high fat and protein diets.

Before I could tempt her more by food, Hario took the front stage and projected her voice. The already hard Shil’vati taking on a guttural overtone. “Please organize yourselves and give each other space!”

I hefted my sandbag one handed and took a few steps away from my group spreading out my arms to ensure I had space to move. Hario then led us through the warmup exercises.

It wasn’t long until I was sweating in the autumn chilled room, but the fun had only begun as Hario explained the main event.

The game “Water Thief” had two or more teams trying to “steal” water by digging a canal from a lake or river to their empty basin. The tricky part was needing to dig around barriers buried in the field. First one to fill their water basin wins. The original water thief game was meant as a way to turn an irrigation chore into something to look forward to.

I was given a tilling shovel during the planning stage. Something normally reserved for a [human twelve] year old. It was a little weird being in the younger group. But when the drums ran a steady beat, I started to break the hard packed dirt feeling a smile tug at my face and bouncing my feet to the music.

Itaro was behind me as we created a shallow pathfinding trench. Every so often having to turn sideways and even back as we hit the underground barriers. My shovel bouncing back loudly and smacking me in the arm as I hit metal again. Me and Itaro worked together, and I would stop and switch with another pair when I heard Itaro’s labored breathing as she tried to keep up with me.

I looked across the lake to see Reqellia had taken point by using a wedge-shaped plowing shovel that split the dirt like water over a ship’s plow. Employing a different tactic of using their strongest member to make a shallow trench all in one go, and unfortunately, it was beating us.

“How much energy do you have left?” Itaro asked as she started to trail behind me again.

“Plenty,” I responded, feeling my second wind just starting to kick in.

She stopped digging for a second but motioned me to continue. “Alright! River here is going to go as long as he can while the rest of us dig. Isara, run back and tell the pacers what we are doing.

Isara, Itaro’s young sister, was not to be trusted with sharp instruments. She had played messenger and water carrier and was now zipping back to our starting position.

The drumbeat became a galloping rhythm, and I focused on nothing but my arms and breathing as I move faster and faster to keep time, burning my stress like coal in a fire to power through to the end.

When I struck the side of the lake the water rushed over my shoes. I made the opening a bit wider with my rake, and then tried to get out of the way, but my shoes had sunk in the mud and instead of a step, I just lurched to the side and fell forward into the water, losing my rake. I climbed out with the last of my strength, flopping on my back panting, soaking wet.

I slowly sat up as Itaro walked toward me, arms hanging loosely. Her black speckled gray fur was covered in mud. She sat down and tried to wipe her face, but only ended up streaking it with brown. She sighed and we sat there for a minute in silence.

I looked over to see Reqellia leaning on her shovel for a minute before hefting the oversized tool over her shoulder and walking away. The pathfinding teams spent. It was the older, stronger adults now competing, but we lost the early game.

“Think we will win?” I asked.

“Probably not, Reqellia is a monster of strength and endurance. Hario said she’s the only Shil’vati who could pass a Rakiri strike team physical the entire time they served together.

Defeated, I flopped back into the dirt. Sure enough, Reqellia’s team won, but it had been a close match. Hario walked up to us still clean. She had stayed out of the game to prevent bias on either team. I took the offered hand to help us out of the dirt.

I went practically airborne as she hauled us up. “That was a wonderful display of leadership pack-daughter, and Klein, you did amazing!”

Itaro seemed a little put out though. “We lost though.”

Hario laughed. “Barely! I regretted that I didn’t ban plow shovels the moment I saw Reqellia pick it up. If anything, you did far better than I would have hoped! Now you two need to wash off before breakfast.”

That made Itaro’s ears perk up, and mine as well. I was starving.

We first walked on a raised grated platform under a simulated rainstorm fully clothed to wash off the worst of the mud and dirt. By the time I reached the actual showers I was freezing.

After cleaning every nook and cranny, including washing my long hair several times. I put on my clothes that I had inherited from Ruhal. Enjoying the feel of the fine woven fabric.

“What happened to your arm?” Paluto, a male Rakiri who was also in my youth auxiliary team, asked. I looked down to see a bluish bruise on my forearm from where my tilling shovel’s handle had jerked out of my hand when I struck the barrier. Huh, that’s going to hurt in a few hours.

“Self-hit, do you have any healing gel?” a patch would be faster, but the gel was fine for small things like this.

Paluto threw me a mischievous grin, responding in High Shil. “{Only if you will sign in spoken word, to view and comment on the next episode of “Iron-blood mountain}.”

The show was a popular drama taking place in pre-first contact early industrial Rakiri society, and performed in High Shil. I was one of the few people Paluto could find to understand it well enough to talk about it with.

I put my hand out to request the healing gel. Responding in the same language, “{My intent should be signature enough, Generous merchant of platonic time well spent.}”

Paluto laughed and threw me the healing gel tube. After putting a thin coat of it on my arm I watched for a few seconds as the bruise started to fade and buttoned up my sleeve. My stomach growling and gnawing at me. “Breakfast?”

Chapter 14: Chapter 14

Chapter Text

Reqellia:

I sat down with a full plate next to Hario, who was waiting for the crowd to settle with their own food before getting her own breakfast. Itaro and Klein joined us a few minutes later with their own food after waiting for the children.

I understood the Rakiri sensibility that the youngest ate first, but there was plenty of food to go around. I was also considered a longtime guest, so I could be selfish in this small way. I did appreciate that Klein was willing to follow tradition.

Hario had insisted that Itaro sit with us this last week. Partly to give Itaro some time not wrangling her younger siblings, but mostly as an excuse for Itaro to talk to Klein. I kept my eyes down on my food to not let my amusem*nt show. Arranged marriages had thankfully always been taboo for Rakiri. Matchmaking on the other hand was a favorite pastime.

Hario spoke while we ate, distracting herself from hunger. “Itaro,” she asked, “Why do you call Klein ‘River’?”

Itaro slowed her chewing to formulate her junk excuse. “Because he’s constantly moving, just like a river.”

Hario co*cked her head while narrowing her eyes. Me, Hario, and the rest of the old strike team had half-raised Itaro while her mother was away, and she knew better than to feed us a line of sh*t.

Itaro’s ears were thinly furred, and the skin underneath had turned red with embarrassment. “K’ein’s name is hard to say. River is easier.”

Hario smiled playfully. “Then, please learn to use his real name.”

Itaro’s face drooped. “Yes Aunt Hario.”

Hario uncrossed her arms and stood up striding to the buffet table, proudly huffing, “My turn.”

I turned to Klein, who wasn’t making eye contact with anyone. Uncomfortable with the teasing discipline Hario showed. “Hario’s not mad, she’s just correcting her.”

I smiled at him, but it worried me. Klein was already at the chaotic time of young adulthood and that wasn’t even considering the culture shock he must constantly feel, but he hadn’t acted out once since his arrival.

Klein responded by changing the subject. “I’m not bothered by the nickname though,” he deflected, “‘Klein’ is extremely common on my home world.”

I heard Hario laugh as she put down a bowl big enough to be a Turox trough filled with Grakken stew. “You’ll learn soon enough!”

I could feel my face trying to betray me. I had a nickname ready, but I was just waiting for the right moment.

After Hario finished half her food she shooed the kids. “Itaro, escort Klein to the youth’s auxiliary. I need to have a discussion with Reqellia.”

“Sure,” Itaro agreed just a hair too quickly.

As they left Hario whispered to me, “Twenty credits Itaro makes the first move.”

“Thirty credits Klein does,” I countered. Not that I thought I would win, but the entertainment value of the bet was worth it.

“Deal! So, Ruhal, how is sharp-tusk?” Hario asked, using her favorite nickname for my husband.

“… Preoccupied, normally he lets himself be the spoiled househusband for a few months after a deployment, but this time work came home with him. He is constantly in his office working on reports, and papers. It seems the only time he spends with us is at lunch and dinner,” I explained, my gaze drifting to the paved path still surrounded by so much forest.

“And bed,” Hario chuckled as she eyed the scratches on my neck.

I winked and lifted my head to show off my love marks. “I got lucky with him, I doubt there’s another man on this planet that would deal with my particular brand of crazy.”

“Except my brother that is,” Hario countered, smiling while running through our well-worn banter.

Scoffing, I leaned back. “You know I’m not big into cuddle piles. I almost froze my tit* off on that ice world in the Periphery.”

Hario chuckled at the memory. “I don’t know how you survived that march through the mountains. The rest of us grew out our fur and even then, we were cold.”

I laughed. “That’s because I have an internal heating augment. One of-”

I cut myself, off remembering where I got it, and what it cost me. I reached up and tapped the back of my head, feeling the regulator chip. The only thing I truly felt worth the whole ordeal, even if I never had a say in it.

I felt the massive hand come down over mine. I looked up to see Hario giving me a soft, comforting look that fit perfectly on the hyperactive gym leader. “It’s ok Reqellia. You don’t have to say anything.”

I nodded and sipped on my juice, a heavy sweet drink, and let my thoughts turn to the warm day. “Either way, it seems I’m going to need all the augments I have, and my condition, to keep up with Klein. I wouldn’t even know who he could train with if he starts to surpass me.”

Hario chuckled before returning the conversation to the main topic. “So, do you know what Ruhal is working on?”

I sighed. “Humans. Seems he’s getting a lot of favors for it too. Twice yesterday, I got packages with more transport documentation than our old military gear, the exo-busting kind. The first was data disks, and the second was alcohol, Earth-based alcohol.”

Hario pricked her ears up. “War spoils? The regulation requirements alone…”

“Means whatever he’s putting together is worth more than a battalion,” I finished. “It’s why I’m not pushing him away from his work. It’s saving someone’s life, probably hundreds.”

“So, did he explain what he was writing about?” Hario asked.

“Tried to. It has something to do with Earth’s data-net. Concepts and obscure references humans shared, with much of it obscene, but it’s been repurposed into an indecipherable code of pictograms and phrases. He’s been trying to crack it, get some kind of context. Seems like Klein gave him a start.

Hario chewed thoughtfully on her last bite of food. “Back to Klein then…”

“Yes! Back to Klein,” I groused. “Somehow even he’s an enigma of bureaucracy. I’m still trying to put all the paperwork together so he can go to school next cycle. Except some of the paperwork literally doesn’t exist. His ID doesn’t even classify him as a ‘citizen’ but a ‘valued asset’.”

Hario looked skeptically at me. “That’s a military designation. Why would Klein have a military ID?”

“Ruhal told me that the adoption process for Klein would be unorthodox, but this makes it even weirder,” I grumbled.

Hario cracked her neck before standing up. “Let me root around. There might be some organization that can help.”

Itaro:

We walked along the road away from the gym and towards the edge of town. The hot coastal breeze blew through my fur. I thanked the dirt mothers for the cooling vest I wore, without it, I would be panting in this early summer heat by now.

I felt bad for Klein. He was already starting to sweat in his tailored, Shil-style clothing and tall work boots. The cloth was already stretching a bit at the shoulders and abdomen where he was putting on more muscle.

That much muscle… No! Bad girl! He’s a cute boy, but it’s way too soon! I chided myself.

“How are things at home?” I asked to break the silence.

Klein looked up from the road, coming back to the present. “Oh! Between Reqellia showing me how to do housework, Ruhal teaching me self-defense, and studying for school placement tests, it’s been fun!” Klein exclaimed as he looked up at me.

“Ruhal still has the rule about going out alone?” I asked, seeing if that was starting to chafe at him yet. He was so mild mannered, yet so active. I don’t know how I would have felt at his age being restricted like that, even if it was typical of Shil men.

“Yeah, can’t go out unescorted until I’m good enough with the shock baton. I’m getting better though! How about you? Sisters still giving you trouble?” Klein asked cheerfully, his multicolor ponytail swaying with his movements. I resisted the urge to fixate on it. I shook my head and focused on his words.

“Not trouble. Just them being themselves. Dad and my mothers wrangle them the best they can, but sometimes it’s easier for either me or Hario to get them to sit still and play a nice game of Queen’s Crossing.” Thinking about last night where we piled around a game board with a somewhat inebriated Hario running us through an adventure campaign.

“What’s Queen’s Crossing?” Klein asked as he skipped a bit as he seemed to have recharged from this morning’s workout.

The rest of the way I explained Queen’s Crossing to Klein. It’s the use of storytelling and back and forth with the audience to let them feel immersed. Klein explained “choose your own adventure” and “Dungeons and Dragons” as Human examples of the same concept. In the end I could see he didn’t want to stop talking, but the Auxiliary was already starting to form up in their platoons in front of the depot.

“See you tomorrow!” he said, already turning to leave.

I watched him go for a second longer before heading to class, my thoughts a mess of family and friends. Au’tes was going to want to hear about today.

Klein:

Today my pod in the youth’s auxiliary was delivering meals to the elderly. Drones probably could have done it, but it would be a waste of trained technicians to fix the drones, in contrast we could walk all day without a servo drive burning out. It felt a bit too similar to being on the Mercy’s Blessing. I actually enjoyed trash pickup detail more.

Our supervisor was an old Shil militia veteran who mostly sat in the autobus, played on her omni-pad, and talked about her time in the service. Occasionally she would walk up with us if it was in a more rural area. We went door to door handing out the hot food and to see if they needed any medical assistance.

“So K’ein, wanted to ask, what did you think of prince Kaltara in the last episode?” Paluto, me and Mal’te hefted trays to the front door. The elder Shil family greeted us with a single haggard looking middle-aged daughter helping us with the meal prep.

“He’s almost as bloodthirsty as some of the men back home,” I commented while bringing the food to an old woman who peered at me like I had grown a third arm.

“Boy, what have you done to yourself? I don’t see any tusks, and you look like a Gearschilde with all that body paint,” The older woman said pointedly at me.

“Oh, I’m sorry Ma’am. I’m not a Shil’vati, but a Human. This is what we normally look like,” I explained politely.

“A Human? But you speak so well, this must be some prank. You can’t possibly be those {lustful primitives} we keep hearing about on the newscasts,” She told me while picking up her silverware. The High Shil was definitely not something to say in polite company.

The adult daughter smiled awkwardly at me as I tried to untie the situation and avoid argument. “I’m kind of odd for my species, and we are surprisingly diverse.”

The Shil woman contemplated her own paradox, and we left with the daughter mouthing an apology to us. This kind of conversation happened again, and again as the older, mentally calcified Shil tried to match me up to what rumors they heard.

“So what do you want to play tonight?” Ma’te asked as we sat in the autobus heading back to the auxiliary.

“Human or Shil?” I asked. I didn’t want to make the decision, but I had two games I wanted to choose from.

“Human. I’m really enjoying the faster pace,” Ma’te answered.

“Age Of Empires it is then,” I said, before Paluto tapped me on the knee while checking to see if the Supervisor was occupied.

“So, Klein, do you have the next episode of…” Paluto trailed off. I knew exactly what he was asking, even if I wasn’t technically supposed to have it. Ruhal was letting me rifle through his ever-growing stash of Human entertainment to annotate, and I was discreetly sharing some of it.

“Here you go, high grade Human drama,” I said, slipping him the data disk. We’d discuss it later. I had to fill him in on a lot of concepts, but Paluto enjoyed the culture clash.

{The gift will be paid in equal kind} Paluto said in High Shil conspiratorially as he handed me more Rakiri drama done in the native Rakiri tongue, something I was only starting to pick up, and was hard to find off the Rakiri home planet of Dirt.

The supervisor looked up from her omni-pad, hearing us talk and deciding to chime in. “Did I tell you boys about the time I…”

Reqellia picked me up from Auxiliary that afternoon in the family car with dinner groceries in the back. It was a nice change in pace from the usual fare of trekking back all the home on foot. At the front gate though was Ruhal, already wearing padding and practicing with his baton.

Ruhal smiled at me. I think he looked forward to these afternoon practices more than I did. “Klein! I’m ready once you are!”

Reqellia watched as Ruhal drilled me through the strikes and parries, and then Ruhal stepped back and brought his practice baton up, thumbing the switch on the handle, the strike head glowed blue. “Ready?”

I brought my own, with the padding it would simulate fighting with a shock baton. First strike wins. I enjoyed the mix of strategy and flow. “Ready.”

I charged, trying to get in close. Trading strike speed for a simple touch hit. Ruhal paired my charge and I had to backpedal using my arm to deflect his own strike while moving my own baton for a thrust. He stepped back out of my reach, his deflected swing went for my exposed side. I used my baton to block, then backpedaled out of his reach until I could catch my breath.

Ruhal stopped. co*cked his head in a silent question to himself and then flicked off the baton. “Let’s try something new.”

He walked over to his omni-pad and tapped a few keystrokes and a doid rumbled out from the normally closed storage room doors. The droid was Shil or Human form waist up, and a base with wheels instead of legs. It was massive, sized for a full grown Shil’vati woman. As pulled out a baton of its own out of a side compartment, a selection of my most aggressive high energy music started to blare.

Ruhal yelled over the din, “This is a training droid, you don’t have to hold back!”

As the mammoth droid started towards me, between the size of the droid and the boss music shaking the ground, I felt adrenaline start to course through my veins. The icy prick of fear, even irrational, mixed with excitement and the neural co*cktail clenched down on my muscles. That safety in my head again clicked off. I rocketed forward, I was going to go through that droid.

The machine swung down, I side-stepped and swung my baton down on its arm. It made a play to grab my baton and I changed direction to hit it square in the other arm. It froze only for a second, and then started to move again, not playing by the normal rules.

My heart hammered as I struck again and again at the droid until small dents riddled its arms and torso. The droid stopped moving and I turned back to Ruhal just in time to see him flicking on his baton again. “Ready?”

I put up my own baton, words unable to form between breaths. I just stared him down, and then sprinted towards him.

The next few moments were a blur of motion and reaction as I pushed forward with strike after strike after strike. The feeling of motion stopped with a solid hit on Ruhal’s forearm and only then did I feel the pressure on my own abdomen.

“Much, much better Klein. I think that’s it for the day. I think it’s time to make dinner,” Ruhal proclaimed, that rueful smile plastered across his face.

I tried not to let my disappointment show as I wanted to go again, I actually scored a hit! I nodded, heading to my room and shower. I noticed a massive blue patch on my stomach, its dull ache starting to form. I took the Shil healing gel on the shower’s ledge for just these scrapes and applied it, hoping that Ruhal would never see it. I didn’t want him to worry about hurting me during practice.

Ruhal:

I smiled at Klein until he was out of sight and then grimaced in pain. “Ow.”

Reqellia sauntered over to me, drink in hand. She helped me take off my arm guards. Even trying to form a fist with my left hand sent agony up the damaged arm. The area had turned almost black.

“So that’s Klein when he lets go,” Reqellia told me as she handed me the drink. It was an aged red grail infused with anti-inflammatory herbs.

I sipped the sweet folk medicine, contemplating, “Am I being too pushy with the baton training?”

Reqellia smiled reassuringly. “Goddess no! It's only been three weeks, but he’s already a lot less reserved than when he got here. I was the one who pushed for that training droid even if it was a small fortune, remember? You sit out here and I will get you a healing patch for that. You might want to upgrade the gear though. You two will be breaking bones if you keep this up.”

I sat and drank a bit more, letting the alcohol loosen me up as Reqellia fetched the healing patch. When she returned and sat next to me, I put an arm around her waist and rested my head against her. As she wrapped my arm in the healing patch I wondered about our family.

“Do Siltan and Telia get jealous of us? Of you?” I asked for the thousandth time. Feeling my old insecurities coming to the forefront.

Reqellia finished fixing me up and held me protectively. “Siltan and Telia married you for children and friendship. They know you love them, but it’s not the same as what they have with each other, or what you and I have.”

I gulped. “And Tulo?”

“There are days I don’t don't want to be around anyone, including you, and we have a small family. I’m glad you have a lover.” Reqellia ran through the same line again.

It was something Reqellia told so many times I lost count, but I felt better every time I heard it. The newer worry crept to the fore though. “Klein though… Should I have taken him away? Did I just create a ‘Shil pup’?”

Reqellia stayed silent and just held me for a minute, then spoke up. “I don’t know, but I do think you made the best choice you could.”

We stayed like that for a few minutes longer until Klein came out of his room with a fruit filled grain roll as a snack, as Reqellia let go of me to teach Klein how to be a househusband. I sat in the courtyard enjoying the sunset, alcohol, and the smell of cooking meat.

“Best I could,” I repeated as a prayer.

Chapter 15: Chapter 15: Floofy childcare part 2

Chapter Text

Laketo:

“Lunchtime!” I called out to the group of children, and the two dozen kids trying best to stay focused on the Shil numerical runes snapped their heads up.

“Food? Lunch?” I heard in an off key chorus of Shil, Rakiri, English, Arabic, Spanish, and a few other languages I would have to look up to remember their names.

I smiled and nodded. It never mattered the species. Lunch was always a matter of celebration.

I led the gaggle of kids around the sports field, or playground depending on the occasion. The compound had grown so much larger and more colorful in the past few weeks. Garlands of bright synthetic flowers and splotches of paint decorated the repurposed prefab hangars. Courtesy of Lasseth, our new Senthe arts and crafts instructor that had joined us a week ago. Her co-wife was now pulling day guard duty in the hot sun, much to Teinla’s relief who could patrol just in the cold desert nights now.

Captain T’salo tried to reassure me that we didn’t need to patrol the inside perimeter walls of the compound, but Teinla would have none of it, and I trusted her judgment when it came to safety above all others.

I stepped inside the blessedly cool cafeteria where my wife I’sasa corralled my group so I could pull away and take a breather. I looked over at the lunch table where my daughter Mitaso spoke animatedly to the older group of boys that were around her age. The humans around her looked less skittish every day, though I tried not to fret at what was going to be a clash of relationship dynamics and social norms among the young adults, and a lot of relationship counseling.I knew I was in for drama.

The cacophony of the languages was untranslatable to my glasses. Trade Shil was the lingua franca, but more complex concepts had the kids trading words from each other’s tongue, and creating the most confusing patois I ever heard, and I knew they snuck in some obscure bad words just because they could.

I got my lunch at the end of the line and sat down on the ground with the youngest group to take over for my wife Pilina so she could finally get a nap in. She looked haggard as the bundles of energy bounced around her at the table. I felt a tug of my elbow and saw Ada holding my shirt with my youngest daughter Oeta sitting next to her. The two had become nearly inseparable since that first day.

“Laketo! What are you eating? What’s that orange stuff?” Ada bubbled with words as she pointed at a glop of mashed sweet potato.

“I will tell you if you can ask me in your home language,” I said, phrasing it as a dare.

The sentence came through the translator on my glasses as almost perfect, good enough for a [four] year old. I nodded and explained sweet potatoes and how it was grown. I did my best to get the children to practice their mother tongue. Even if I could barely speak it myself and had to rely on a translator. I swore they would grow up with at least the knowledge of their own culture. I wasn’t going to create Rakiri humans.

“We made you something.” Oeta reached over Ada to give me a picture. Ada had drawn in big blocky swathes of purple with crayon, the thin strokes with paper tears were definitely Oeta’s attempts at claw painting. I could even see bits of the non-toxic paint at the quick of some of Oeta’s fingers.

I looked at Oeta, then Ada, lovingly. “It’s very well done, why don’t you show the rest of the group?”

I watched the presentation. Enjoying the focus away from me and towards Ada and Oeta’s rendition of the compound. My mood soured just slightly when I looked in the corner of the cafeteria. The two boys who had been brought to us last week had been rather anti-social, and their behavior was at times bizarre. Right now one ate while the other watched, his food untouched. I saw this same behavior yesterday, once the first finished eating the second would stand watch, holding whatever sharp utensil.

Once the presentation finished and they all started to doodle I waved over my son Nakil, who was helping the two older girls Hana and Katren feed the three babies we had. He nodded and walked over to me “yes dad?”

“Can you three stay here? I want to talk to those two boys in the corner,” I said as I stood up, much to Ada and Oeta’s disappointment, but after a few suggestions about what to doodle next, they were sufficiently distracted. Nakil also walked back over and the group with babies in tow sat at the table showing the children how to feed a baby. It would have been seen as ‘unfeminine’ for a Shil girl to spoon feed a baby, but this was one Rakiri social norm I was determined to instill.

My son looked worriedly said in our language as I started to move away. (“Be careful dad, they seem dangerous, and they don’t talk, except in short answers.”)

Stood in front of the two boys, the one acting as watch stood up. The utensil held tightly in his hand. The other boy put his food down but kept the fork in his hand. My translator quick converted his precisely spoken words. The [fourteen] year old boy spoke coolly with a crisp loudness. “[What do you want?]”

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” I spoke trying to stay friendly, but I could feel my shoulders stiffen. It felt like the one time I walked with my father on a night patrol, and he had to deal with an enraged marine Sergeant picking up her drunk corporal out of jail.

[“No, we are not allowed to fraternize with the enemy,”] The other boy, only a little older, responded. My translator picked it up clearly.

I stared at them in confusion. “I am not your enemy children. I am a caretaker.”

The boy’s eyes bored into mine as he refuted this statement once it came through my translator. [“No! we are not children, we are captured soldiers, and may only give you our name and serial numbers.”] The older spoke again. I felt the chill of fear climb down my spine.

“f*ck,” I whispered the human explicative.

I had to wake Tellina up early to watch the boys while I discussed the latest crisis at what should have been a relatively calm day.

“What in the burning pits are two children that young being conscripted in a military?”

Dr.Danni had closed off the room after finishing her last round of checkups, and was currently leaning back in her office chair. That air of nonchalance disturbed me almost as much as the revelation. “Treated a few soldiers that age in my time. At least these two are disciplined.”

I started back in abject horror. “How, how can you be so untroubled by that? These are children fighting in war!”

Dr. Danni threw me a look of unsympathetic cynicism. “I have spent my adulthood saving the lives of those stuck in hellholes, and more than once I have been imprisoned for my efforts.”

I steered the conversation back to the boys, trying to not think about the ramifications of human culture from her words. “So, what should I do with them? I don’t have the training to help them transition into veterans?”

Dr. Danni responded. “I doubt anywhere on Earth does. Half of Earth is still an active war zone. Either you take care of them, or they need to go to a POW camp.”

I shut my mouth. I couldn’t keep them here as children, but in a POW camp they would be handled harshly, and without regard to their age. Possibly ‘falling through the cracks.’

It was in the midst of this impossible choice that Telina walked in. “I might have a third option, my love.”

I replayed this series of events that led to standing in front of said boy soldiers, now in training armor I hadn’t worn in over a decade carrying a padded, dual pronged catcher’s spear. If my father saw me now, he would have his signature smug smile plastered on his face.

I shook the image of my father from my head as I stood in front of the two ‘trainees’. “Good evening, I am glad you agreed to serve as door guards, and protect the civilian population while we negotiate your release with the unit commander.”

Tellina had talked to the boys while watching over them, and discovered that their situation was, while still grossly exploitive, not a warlord’s whim. The group of towns the boys harkened from needed a defending militia, and so recruited a retired commander to build one with the orphaned children that had once begged on the street. They in turn were given the basics of life and an education. A path to normalcy. It explained their discipline, and their willingness to cooperate.

I had a hard time stomaching the concept, even if I felt I was now participating in the same practice. Tellina’s words soothed my guilty conscience ‘ This is the structure they know; we can help them get away from a military life, bit by bit’.

“Today we will practice with a catcher’s spear. This is used to hold a limb or person out of arm's reach with a melee weapon, and if need be, have a partner use a stunning weapon on the assailant.” I explained the gear, and the boys stood, hands behind their backs watching my every move. I had to be taught the basic commands for ordering them. Single words they would listen to as long as it didn’t interfere with their primary duty of protecting people.

“When I have deemed you ready, you will assist Tellina in safeguarding the civilian children here during evening patrols. I ask that you do not try to escape the compound, as the incident will endanger those here.” My tongue felt thick in my mouth. I heard my words in the voice of my old instructor when he barked orders at me.

“Yes Sir!” Forest and Stone, as they asked to be called in words in Rakiri similar sounding to their own names, yelled affirmatives simultaneously in youthful, high-pitched tenors. I cringed and tried to think of this as Raid game practice, back in a Dirtside gym.

“Alright let's go through some basics-.” I drilled them with my own rusty skills. Trying to imitate my father, and instructor. Knowing that face was what Forest and Stone found comfortable.

---That night----

I lay on my stomach over a towel as I’sasa combed my mane, and trimmed my fur in unreachable areas. I stopped being an adult for a while, whining to I’sasa about today. “I felt horrible yelling at them. I just want to raise them and teach nice things like cooking and crafting, not fighting.”

I’sasa hummed as she took care of me. “I know my wonderful husband, but you used to love being a door guard on the raid team in university, and like it or not, you were good at it.”

I huffed, which turned into a groan as she massaged the knots out of my shoulder. “I stopped because every time I saw myself in the mirror. I felt like some pup putting on their parent’s armor. It never felt right. I enjoyed the calisthenics more than the actual game. I was following my dad’s wishes until I realized I didn’t have to.”

She kneaded my back and I let my worries go as I’sasa spoke. “Husband, you never looked like a pup to me, and you are being a childcare professional with them as much as you are with any other kid.”

I let I’sasa finish pampering me for a few more minutes, then rolled onto my back and sat up, stretching out my arms, feeling the looseness in them now. I’sasa broke into a full toothed Rakiri grin as I whispered. “Your turn.”

The next week was exhausting as I tried to keep up with teaching classes in the morning, being a househusband arbitrating playtime in the afternoon, and finally the physical effort of practicing with Forrest and Stone in the evenings. My wives did their best to pamper me afterwards, but even they started to become frustrated as they watched their husband become a walking wreck. Thankfully the boys were quick studies. It was just the basics of shield and spear, but they already had the other aspects of soldiering baked into them long ago.

I was thankful for the day Forrest and Stone graduated from my study. I was less thankful when I saw what Lasseth, the arts and crafts teacher, had made them for guard duty. The thin clothing was brightly dyed, but it was made of civilian grade flexifiber armor, and the round shields were of similar fabric. The spears were not the double prong Catcher’s spear, but pipes of thermocast metal cut at an angle to be sharp pointed lethal spears.

“They could hurt or kill you,” I whispered to Tellina.

Tellina snapped back in an offended tone. “They would sooner gut themselves, or have you noticed they haven’t once asked about returning to their unit since they started training with you? Besides I’m not worried about rioting kids, I’m worried about the marines. Their patrols around the outside of the compound are getting more frequent, and closer, every day.”

It was rare that Tellina rebuked me. So I took it to heart, and while I trained them, Tellina had become Stone and Forrest’s pack mother. They followed her schedule, ate with her, and during the late afternoon she would watch them play with the other kids. They were dangerous, but not to us. I looked at the tiny fighters. I still thought it was silly, but soon Tellina’s boys would save her life.

--that next week--

The sun had just dipped below the horizon as me and my wife Kel’thra guided the children from the playing field to the washrooms so they wouldn’t get dirt in their dinner. I saw Tellina, Forrest and Stone walking out of the cafeteria in their thin civilian armor. Tellina Kissed me as they passed. “Take care of yourselves,” I said, the quick meeting had become an evening ritual. The boys looked away and made expressions of mock disgust, but they never did hide their laughter.

“You too, I see you have a new war wound,” Tellina playfully poked my bandaged ear that had been cut by a falling tool in gardening class. I rubbed at it self-consciously as Tellina’s tail swayed to her steps while she strutted away.

Dinner, showers, and bed. Another day, with an hour to myself to enjoy some downtime before Kel’thra joined me for a night of cuddling and reading together.

“How is everyone doing?” I asked as Kel’thra lazed, using my chest as a pillow.

“Eh, Pillina has been feeling a bit overwhelmed and isolated, but you know she doesn’t like to speak up. I’m going to take over for her with the youngest ones, and I think you should give her an evening of coddling,” Kel’thra said, and then yawned, curling into me.

“It has been awhile since she and I spent time alone, Can I’sasa take over my evening playtime supervision tomorrow?” I asked, feeling my eyes heavy. I never knew how my father was able to be a guardsman and a house father, but then again, he normally didn’t get up till midday.

“Sure, I might bake fresh pipayas as a bribe,” Ket’thra spoke with just a touch of humor, teasing me with my favorite snack food. I sighed, after over a month on this planet I felt that I could finally relax into a rhythm. I closed my eyes for a second, and then fell asleep before I could respond.

…TWEEE, TWEEE, TWEEE. A high-pitched whistling alarm broke me out of a dead sleep with Kel’thra slowly coming to as well. I Jumped out of bed with barely enough time to put on a shirt and grab the stunner pistol I had biometrically locked next to my bedside table. Running barefoot to the source where I found Tellina on the ground clutching her face. Forrest stood over her shield and spear up in a defensive stance.

And Stone pointing his spear at an unmoving Shil marine laying in a pool of blood. A pistol clutched in her right hand. “Oh, this is bad, this is really bad,” I said as I went to check on Tellina.

“Telly, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” I asked soothingly as I put a hand on her shoulder to prevent her from thrashing, using her rarely used nickname to let her know who I was. The boys didn’t spare me a second glance as they moved to create a circle around us. Some training that harkened back to their days as soldiers.

“The bitch marine hit me with grimshaw spray! I need the eyewash kit,” Tellina said angrily as she tried not to claw her eyes out.

Three of my other wives, and two older daughters were on the scene seconds after me. Thankfully I’sasa brought both her own stunner pistol and a medical bag, as I washed out Tellina’s eyes she started to look around fretfully. “Stone! I heard a lasgun fire, are you hurt?”

“No, Ma’am,” Stone said in short, clipped, Trade Shil. I saw the blackened spot on his shield.

It wasn’t long before more Shil’vati marines and Captain T’salo herself pulled up to the compound. “Dr. Danni, Tellina, Laketo, we need to talk.”

Our whole compound was awake now. Every adult had a stunner and was standing guard. I worried how many of the kids would mentally backslide because of tonight as I sat with Dr. Danni, and Tellina.

“If that traitor wasn’t dead already I would have her part of the executions by daybreak.” Captain T’salo’s voice dripped with venom.

“Part?” I asked. Fear dropping in my gut.

“An unannounced shuttle arrived ten minutes after her life monitoring transponder pinged a flatline. Unfortunately for them, we were already on high alert and they were immediately boarded and thoroughly inspected. We found holding cells underneath the floor panels. The pilot and crew chief are undergoing interrogation, but we found enough incriminating evidence on their persons to make an overwhelming case in an after action military tribunal a formality.” Captain T’salo said with hands gripping the table.

I didn’t want to, but I had to ask. “What did you find?”

“Three million credits and a Consortium contract for ‘acquirement’. The traitor’s job in all this was to open the gate and help grab as many of the children as possible. I am right now going through the ranks to find if any others under my command that may have been part of the scheme,” Captain T’salo spat.

By morning the whole base was on lockdown, and I woke up to a knock at my door.

All the older children, including my own daughters and son, were standing in front of my door with an uncomfortable looking I’sasa. “They heard what happened, and want to be door guards to.”

I looked at them, all had the grim determination I abhorred seeing on my father after a rough night on patrol. I said nothing as I shut the door, and then made an emergency call to Agent Militai. I refused to become a caretaker turned commander.

The call clicked through, and before Agent Militai could even say hello I started up. “We need a new location. Someone attempted to kidnap them last night.”

There was a pause. “Pack up, I will personally be on the evacuation transport. Do not get on any other transport unless I am there.”

Chapter 16: Chapter 16

Chapter Text

Ruhal:

The shock baton came within a hair’s breadth of my visor as I backpedaled away. My own weapon aimed at my opponent’s neck. A deft open palm strike to my arm deflected the blow as they moved in with their shock baton for a strike at my abdomen.

I moved away again. The baton missing my stomach, and my opponent pulled back for another attack aimed for the inside of my thigh. I swung, willing my arm to go faster, my baton made contact with my opponent’s visor the instant before their own shock baton slammed into my leg. Grunting, we both tumbled back as the flexifiber training armor locked up and my opponent’s transparent metal visor bent inward from the strike.

I had won the match, barely.

I looked down at Klein, whose faceplate was now warped beyond use. I would have to get the baton training gear repaired again. Before I could dwell on the annoyance, I started to wobble on my now weakened legs. I had used my fast reaction mods this last month more than the rest of my life combined, and it was starting to take a toll on me.

I pulled off my helmet sweat pouring off my face as Klein took off his damaged helmet with that joyous look on his face even if his words conveyed frustration, his intonation sounded gleeful.

“Dammit! I was so close that last time!” Klein swore as he stretched his neck. “Still, one out of three isn’t bad right?”

I almost broke my own agreement - that was now making near daily habit of torturing me - and gave him a shock baton so he could go out alone during the day. Even one out of three against me was more than a match for even the surliest Marine.

I restrained myself though. Klein needed to deal with an opponent with the coordinated reach of a determined, sober, Shil’vati woman who might see the lone Human on this planet as more than just an exotic date.

Sitting on the courtyard patio under the awning as the first rain drops came down, I sighed as Klein ran inside, laughing like the boy he was. Reqellia sat down next to me as I steadied my breath to speak. Trying to make my tone light, I joked, “Can you be his sparring partner now? I think he’s going to kill me from attrition alone.”

Reqellia looked down at me and teased me, “Sure, if you are willing to admit he’s beaten you.”

I may still have the pride to resist surrendering to Klein, but with Reqellia, reason had finally taken hold, and I decided to admit my folly. “That’s the dozenth time I used my mods this week during practice. He’s wrecked me.”

Reqellia looked shocked, then angry. In a low voice, she loudly whispered. “You crazy stiff. I have that same mod, and I know how rough using it is. No wonder you’ve lost weight! Keep this up, and you are going to make us a widow family.”

She pulled me in for a hug. “Get the armor for me. I can handle my reservations sparing Klein if it means you don’t kill yourself.”

She held me while we heard Klein busied himself in the kitchen making breakfast, I caught snippets of a common Helkam fishing/drinking song Klein picked up last time we went people watching in town. I muffled my laughter in Reqellia’s shirt as I heard Siltan and Telia joining in.

After breakfast I went to the office and put my headphones on, typing my first report to the rhythm of Rammstein's [you have]. I had developed a taste for shock and punk rock’s cross section of social commentary and crude lyrics.

To Agent Militai ID#-----

Klein report entry--

[2 Earth months since arriving on Sky]

Klein has rapidly grown muscle mass, and now weighs around [210 pounds]. His doctor Compassion Through Deeds has him on a daily supplement regime to prevent nutritional deficiencies that would result from mismatched diets compared to his home planet. She has rapidly been indexing and cross-referencing human medical data, comparing it to Klein to see if he has any unseen medical issues.

Klein is now one of two states sleeping or hyperactive. I have made it a habit that on days he does not go with Reqellia to a Rakiri specialized gym that I practice {shock baton fighting} with him. The armor and training drone droid I have purchased for this purpose will need to be replaced with more durable models soon.

Klein will soon be wandering by himself around town during the day as I have outlined in my last entry. I know there are risks, but by now you have read my restricted dossier, and know what it means for him to beat me in melee combat even once. I have asked Reqellia to practice with him, if he can take her on, then I doubt anything less than a full pod of marines could kidnap him.

Exercise seems to be crucial to Klein’s ability to study. Without it, he is unable to focus on anything that does not hold his attention. What holds his attention is subject to change on a weekly, if not daily, basis. There are some constants. He has become enamored by language, and has quickly become fluent in Trade and High Shil, as well as picking up the Rakiri language….

I finished my second annotation of an old human war when my alarm went off, letting me know the sports and training store was open soon. I walked into our communal work area and kissed Tellia, then Siltan, as they went over import/export figures of our family business. I waved at Klein, who barely returned the gesture, already pouring over his slate for school entrance testing.

The bundle of flexifiber and thermocast metal wasn’t heavy, but the look the Triki gave me as I hauled the dented helmet and frayed flexifiber suit onto the counter was. Her needle-like teeth showed as her mouth hung open and her too-small-for-flight vestigial wings quivered. “Did you turn off the non-lethal setting on that droid?”

I tried to make light of the damage. “Actually no, I did that to the helmet, and my foster did that to my suit. He has speed and reaction time to match a Rakiri. I was wondering if you had anything more durable?”

The Triki technician looked skeptical. “That military purchase account has the credits in it, but it’s only cleared for restricted peacekeeping, militia level equipment. No lethal weapons or undercover armor. With your rank I could sell you a personal set of stealth armor, but not one for your foster’s sizes. There’s hazard gear which would offer the durability and then some, but it’s not flexible enough for shock baton practice.”

I sighed and put my omni-pad down. “Fine. Get these two repaired. I will get the addendum, I promise, if you can put in the order, three sets, here’s the third’s measurements.”

The Triki looked even more suspicious. “This is for one of your wives, and I know which one by these measurements. I understand Humans are tough and all, but isn’t this a bit extreme for your foster?”

No surprise there. The Triki shopkeeper was an old acquaintance and knew Reqellia a bit too well. “That’s why I want armor that won’t break if things get out of hand,” I explained.

The Triki’s wings flittered. “Consider it done on favor. But I can’t hand it out until you get that exception approved.”

We talked a little more after that, but I had to head home soon to help Reqellia with paperwork trying to get Klein enrolled in exams. That exception would take time, and I was starting to get the feeling of being watched.

Klein:

I woke up groggy and stretched out my pain ridden abdomen. I must have pulled something, again. Cee would tell me next visit if it was something problematic, so I just put some healing gel on it and shuffled around a bit until the pain dulled to a low ache.

I shuffled to the mirror and stared at myself in shame. My long, multicolored hair looked like something between a bird’s nest and unicorn vomit. I grabbed the comb and tried to detangle it before gym today. I wanted to look presentable for the first Raid game I would participate in. Hario had to get my measurements and everything.

‘Presentable to a certain Rakiri female perhaps?’ Squirrel brain joked. It had become chattier lately, probably because the only Human I could talk to was me.

Squirrel brain knew my plan of course. I had taken a few modern Human ballads, and with the help of Mal’te and Paluto, I translated them into a mix of common High Shil and Rakiri words that followed the same rhyme scheme. It wasn’t too hard, but the somewhat robotic voice of the auto singing program I had purchased left something left to be desired.

“Of course. She has an entourage of younger siblings, and she somehow maintains her hygiene even with their craziness,” I responded back out loud. No one could hear me talk to myself, so it was ok. Right?

“Besides, I haven’t had time to repaint my nails. So it’s not like I’m going all out on presentation.” I looked down at my nails scraped almost clean of paint. I thought about yesterday. Itaro had let her brother practice painting her claws. I knew she’d catch sh*t from classmates when they saw the bright yellow.

I also knew she would absolutely not care. Her younger brother’s and sisters’ opinions she held in far higher regard to some spoiled crayon eater that wouldn’t deal with the unfeminine acts of spending time with their siblings. It was something nice, something sexy.

‘Furry!’ squirrel brain responded.

The problem with intrusive thoughts is that they know your insecurities and can push your buttons a lot better than anyone else.

I pointed the comb at the mirror in mock offense. “Right now my family consists of purple space orcs, the closest other human is several lightyears away, and I find Itaro attractive despite her being Rakiri, not because of it. I am, at worst, fur tolerant.”

‘Except for the cuddle factor,’ Squirrel brain replied evilly. It was right of course. It was about two weeks ago, when we were talking about tabletop games of all things, that I wondered what it would be like to play something like Settlers of Catan, or Queens Path snuggled up to-.

“Nope, we're done.” I said as I felt the heat on my cheeks and quickly as I cinched my, now less, messy hair with something that looked like a cross between a hairband and a hose clamp. Thank the gods for Shil tech.

I grabbed my breakfast of a protein bar and a pouch of u’sawa juice from my room’s mini fridge and hurried to the courtyard, consuming it before Reqellia even spotted me wide awake and ready to go.

“You’re late,” Reqellia commented with a smirk. I still could never get up before her. We started our run out of the house and on the long road to the gym.

“Preening” I said as I caught up to her, and I tried to stretch out my sore abdomen. Damn, whatever I pulled must have been bad if it was still sore after healing gel, but a few minutes in and I was in less pain and concentrating on the day ahead. This was going to be fun!

Itaro:

I held the package tightly in my arms. The early spring already had Klein sweating by the end of breakfast every morning. There was no way he was going to survive summer. He needed a cooling vest like anyone else built for the colder temperatures.

I chaperoned my siblings with my father to my aunt’s gym. They nipped at me with questions about what was in the package, but I kept my mouth shut, not wanting to spoil the surprise. Hario might have suggested Klein’s rough measurements, so my pack mother I’tala helped me trim and rework one of my father’s old cooling vests, and my sister O’vera helped me dye it. She didn’t seem to mind the bits of dye still clinging to her arms afterwards. I was going to make a batch of caramelized fish skewers for just her as thanks.

Hario stood at the doorway as usual and gave me a wink with her golden mechanical eye as I passed. I reached the changing room with its permanent musty smell despite its cleanliness, put on the thin padding and stored the present in my locker. In the main gym arena, the dirt floor had been packed flat and tamped down. Dirt walls separated the four matches that were to be played simultaneously. I saw Klein in his gear and looked away quickly.

‘It’s not an engagement bangle or anything, it’s just a useful gift because of what he is, right?’ I lied to myself as we stood in formation.

Hario had closed the doors and stood in front of us. “The team from New Iron city is here today. I expect you to play to the best of your ability and be respectful.”

I tuned out the rest of the speech to size up the opponent team. The male door guard was massive, with the kind of glossy, solid gray fur celebrated by traditional Rakiri families. He smiled at me, and for the first time, I didn’t blush at the attention. Ginto was a bully and an asshole using charm to disguise that ugly personality. When I found out how he treated O’vera last time we met, the attractiveness had shriveled.

I gave him a deathly smile, curling back my lips to bare my fangs. This was going to be good.

Klein:

I ran through the rules of Raid in my head as Hario gave her quick speech. Raid was similar to Human’s Capture the Flag, Senthe’s Tangle, or Shil’vati boat chases. Each team had a home base with a large bag filled with sand. The goal was to steal the opposing team’s bag and get it to home base while defending your own bag.

Each team had five “raiders” with a tucked piece of fabric in a pocket on their back and tied to their shirt. Pull the fabric, and the raider would be yanked backwards, letting them know they had been caught. The player had to run back to base before they could enter the field again. The “door guard” could not be taken off the field but couldn’t pull a raider off the field themselves. The door guard used a “catcher’s spear” - a double pronged pole that could be used to pin or push an opponent away from the bag - and let a teammate pull the cloth from the distracted player.

We all started at home base. I looked over the team and saw Itaro looking across the field with sharp regard. I followed her gaze to the door guard across the match field.

‘Competition perhaps?’ Squirrel brain whispered, but it didn’t seem right. Itaro’s eyes were too narrow, and the smile she flashed was not the friendly kind.

“GO!” Hario boomed and immediately the cacophony started. I raced forward with the others as our door guard. As we passed the opposing team, I doubled back towards home to play defense. It was a strategy that played well with my slower speed, but higher endurance.

I caught one raider before she got to the door guard. Her eyes glared down at me as she stomped back to her home base, and the second was already pinned by our own door guard, making them easy prey.

The third was farther back, but one of my teammates had done a later double back and snuck up behind her while she tried to chase me down. Now we had a short window of time to overwhelm the enemy team’s door guard and grab the bag. I raced ahead, sucking in a hard breath as the same spot on my abdomen protested the exertion.

My teammates were getting chased away from the bag, as a third was pinned and just to be picked off as I dove and took hold of the sand filled bag. I hefted it quickly on my shoulder. I was at that moment my stomach blossomed in agony. The pain stunned me for just a second, and gave me a gut dropping realization of my constant discomfort all morning.

Appendicitis.

Right now my Appendix was a ticking time bomb.

I dropped the bag as the door guard turned towards me. I didn’t have time to say anything as the pole arm’s crescent shaped head, propelled by [six feet] of pure muscle, punched right into my gut. I Screamed as I flew backwards. I was on the floor hyperventilating while I experienced tunnel vision for the first time.

Itaro was there. I blinked, took a breath, and then Hario and Reqellia were there. Did I black out? I could hear distant commotion…

“Klein, KLEIN!”

“I’m here… Can you get me to Cees? I have [aPpendiCitis],” I coughed out as I heard someone yelling, “You just hurt Klein, you poorly dyed excuse for a male!”

I turned my head to the source of the noise, catching a glint of yellow painted claws before I blacked out.

Itaro:

I was between Klein and Giton with my claws out. Giton had dropped his catcher’s spear and backed away from me. Hario and Reqellia were putting Klein on a stretcher as the city medivac was rushing here to take him to the best xeno-clinic in town.

“If you ever hurt me, my family, or the people I care about again, I will tear your face off,” I spat as I turned away to the deafening silence stunned room. I followed Reqellia and Hario, guiding the stretcher with an unconscious Klein on it.

Me and Reqellia got into the medivac while Hario went to reorganize the gym. The doctor put the scanner over Klein as we sat in silence as we barreled down the streets. Public transport pulling off to the side to make way. I prayed to whoever listened that Klein wasn’t about to die on us.

The doctor responded, “He’s got inflammation in his lower intestine, exacerbated by blunt force trauma, and wait…”

Her eyes went wide as she did a double take at Klein, like she noticed what was on the stretcher for the first time. The doctor tapped frantically on her omni pad, and I spoke up, frantic. “What is it? What’s wrong!?”

She looked up and pasted a poorly façade of calm. “He’s going to be fine, just surprised is all. He seems to have taken quite a beating in whatever game was being played.”

Something changed in the atmosphere. The doctor would look up at me occasionally, but refused to make eye contact with Reqellia. I was confused by the doctor’s statement though, Klein had only taken one hit in the very short game. What was-.

The door opened, cutting off my train of thought. Two Gearschilde orderlies helped pull the stretcher off the medivac and into the clinic. I ran inside until a young Gearschilde man stood up from behind the welcome desk and stopped me in the lobby as the stretcher rolled past the operating room doors on its own power.

“I’m sorry Ma’am, but he needs to go through a sterilizer field. The Surgeon Priest, Compassion Through Deeds, is already prepping the operating room. The good news is that she compiled the medivac information and believes it will be a trivial operation,” the man assured. “He will be awake and pain free within the hour. Would you like some tea or snacks in the meantime?”

I looked up at the burnt orange skin of the Gearschilde. The peaceful face literally sculpted with cybernetics, and a carved copper prosthetic hand waving me into the short-term waiting room foyer. Reqellia walked up behind me and greeted our orderly. “Thank you very much for your hospitality, Kind And Curious Acts. Do you still make eastern rolls? And I can thank you by drawing the cups myself for all of us to enjoy, unless you have other business?”

The orderly looked up at Reqellia and his peaceful face went animated with amusem*nt. “Reqellia! I didn’t know you came in with Klein this time. Yes, we still have Eastern rolls, and I am not busy right now! We normally are very slow today. You know most people don’t get major repairs or modifications done this time of year.”

“Thank you Kind And Curious Acts,” I said awkwardly, feeling like the third wheel in the conversation.

“You can call me ‘Acts’ for short,” Acts said as he and Reqellia walked into the foyer’s small kitchen. I sighed and sat down in one of the plush chairs to look around what counted as a “short-term waiting room”.

It had none of the hard, sterile feel of most species’ hospital areas. There was a closed off fireplace. A small children’s playroom, and a gaming area. There were low tables for drinks while lounging, meeting tables for planning, and even dining tables. I saw a... Menu? Off to one side giving serving times and food options.

It made sense now that I considered it. Gearschilde life revolved around technology. It was what had allowed their species to return from the brink of extinction, and the temple-clinics kept them alive through the surgical application of that technology. Clinics were community centers for Gearschilde, like Hario’s gym was for me.

I hadn’t noticed those things when I had come here to see what was left of Hario all those years ago. The memory of seeing her bandaged face, raspy voice telling me funny stories about her strike team. I remember alternating between Reqellia’s and my birth mother’s lap as the month dragged by before Hario was released, finally well enough to help Reqellia plan the funeral, and invite the families of the other ten members of the team now gone.

I exhaled, understanding why as a pup I never noticed such things as the menu. Reqellia came back with the ‘eastern rolls’ thin dough and shaved meat wrapped together in a spiral and baked. The fat from the meat frying the dough.

Bad memories were replaced by the good memories of when my mother complained to Reqellia that the Gearschilde were fattening me up. I snarfed down three eastern rolls with tears in my eyes. The delicious bittersweet taste of half remembered comfort food.

Reqellia sat down next to me eating hers gingerly while sipping tea, talking to Acts about the comings and goings of the Temple-Clinic. The plate emptied rapidly, and Acts left to grab us some more. Reqellia took that time to pounce.

“So, defending your male?”

I stopped mid-chew, the memory of what I had done slamming into the fore of my mind. I threatened another male, who may have girlfriends, in front of the whole gym, over Klein. That was as clear a confession of courtship as anything. I covered my burning ears and buried my face in the table. “Um, that’s not what it looked like?”

Reqellia countered my discredit before biting into her last eastern roll to give me time to respond. “No? You were not making a stiff who told your sister she would never find a husband as a decorator, and hurt my son over a game, cower in fear?”

I felt my head spun with several different statements competing for my vocal cords. “Wait, how did you know about what he told O’veta, and Giton didn’t pull an illegal move on the field?”

Why was I defending Giton? It wasn’t the notion that I lost a possible boyfriend, no matter how toxic, but he seemed to have played by the rules. Why had I reacted so violently towards him?

“Dammit,” I breathed out and confirmed before Reqellia swallowed her food. “No, it was exactly what it looked like.”

Reqellia waved away my statements as she spoke. “Me and Hario talk, and O’veta told Hario everything last month. Giton always acted like a poorly fed Turox when he thought none of the adults were looking, and it’s easy for me to be stealthy. -

I could see that.

- Also, Hario just sent me back the footage from the match. Klein had stopped and dropped the bag, Giton still struck him with all his weight, that’s someone wanting to cause pain.”

I sighed in relief, maybe my unexpected confession wasn’t so obvious after all?

Reqellia shattered that less embarrassing thought with a teasing statement. “Besides, Hario won our bet, and I now owe her forty credits. You did make the first move on Klein, quite publicly I might add.”

I dropped my face on the table again and felt my ears burn crimson. I didn’t bother trying to hide it, there wasn’t a point. I would need to tell Klein before he found out through the lightning fast gossip of the gym. I wouldn’t be surprised if his omni-pad was already getting pinged with insinuating questions about a wedding.

Finally Acts returned, accompanied by two Interior officers. They walked into the foyer and spoke directly to Reqellia. “Ma’am we are with her majesty’s Legion of the Interior. We need to ask you a few questions.”

Reqellia stood up, slowly, the two Interior women had hands on weapons. I felt my hackles rise. She responded politely, “Of course, officers. May I ask what this is about?”

The officer still had their hands on their weapons, but at least they were holstered as the officer replied,“Yes ma’am. It’s with regards to your foster and possible sentient trafficking.”

Chapter 17: Chapter 17

Chapter Text

Ruhal:

Thanks to the author of Alien-Nation for editing.

“We are sorry about the restraints. Your dossier has a security lock from the Office of Interior that I can’t even read, and all our supervisor could tell us was ‘interview with caution’,” one of the two agents explained.

I regarded my handcuffs with professional disapproval. They had a longer than regular chain for ambulatory movement and inmate processing, by the deep, I could even use them as garrote if needed. They had revealed the limits of their rank with that apology.

“No need to worry. I am sure this will be a formality in less than an hour,” I told them, if there was one thing that was in abundance on the planet Sky it was Interior and undercover commando trainees. I hoped this would probably be their most interesting case all month.

“So, would you care to explain how you are raising a human, that is also considered a military asset?” The agent inquired as she pulled out her slate.

“Of course, Klein surrendered himself and requested medical aid and refugee status. He was willing to answer essential questions regarding human culture that aided in liberating humanity into the Shil’vati Empire. He wouldn’t be safe on Earth anymore, and [I mentioned] that he was still important in writing my reports. If I had my slate, I could give you the relevant documentation,” I said in a conversational tone, without any of the emotions that weighed the story, and glossing over the specifics.

“No need. I have everything you submitted to the Interior, including his asset designation, the interrogation transcripts, and even his doctor’s contact info. To be honest with you it’s the only reason we haven’t interviewed you yet, even after a dozen calls about a ‘possible trafficked human’ since he arrived. Your information is corroborated with several other departments. The issue now is what the medivac scans found.” The agent pushed a slate towards me with medical notes bolded for emphasis ‘probable severe abuse’.

“The report shows a recent history of blunt force trauma, abrasions, and even muscle tearing, in short. It looks like the human has been systematically tortured for months. You also have recently requested restricted training armor in the human’s size.” The agent explained.

Ah, that was my mistake. I had been treating Klein as another child, just with some unique needs. It looks like there were other considerations, ones that I failed to see.

“I really do need my omni-slate to illustrate this, it’s on my desk right now if one of your assistants could get it?” I asked, hoping they got the suggestion to not leave me with only one interrogator in the room so they wouldn’t be graded too harshly.

They thankfully acquiesced without comment, and with my omni-slate in hand I pulled up the latest video of Klein practicing with me, the speed and brutality was difficult for me to sit through. Then, Klein pulled off his helmet seconds later, laughing in the rain. Unconcerned that, without armor, we could have just killed each other- I was grateful he had, else it might’ve been interpreted quite differently. “The bruising mostly from everyday participation at a Rakiri gym, and some remnants from before I got proper gear for baton practice. He heals extremely fast, and more so, he isn’t happy unless he exercises for at least an hour or two a day.”

I pulled up another video. Klein was sitting at the table bouncing his leg at an ever-increasing pace while trying to focus on a decently complex equation. He finally stood up and started pacing mouthing words as he skipped in time to an unheard rhythm.

“W-what’s he doing?” The agent asked, looking just a tad disturbed by the display of what seemed erratic behavior.

“A sort of dance while playing the song ‘a fine mesh net’ on his headphones. There was a monsoon that Shel weekend, and even I’m not crazy enough to fight in a thunderstorm like that. He does that around the house for an hour, and then finally settles in on a video game,” I explained to the agents, who were looking at me dubiously.

“So, you oversee an adolescent who is an intelligence asset, but also seems poorly fitted for Shil’vati life. Why the baton practice? Wouldn’t that make him even more dangerous, more of an outsider? Are you trying to sabotage his integration? Why not take him shopping, instead, or teach him beauty and self-care routines?” They were antagonizing. Countering every argument to see how I reacted. It seemed they could at least interrogate decently well.

“I hardly call a few quirks ‘poor fitting’. The baton practice is for obvious self-defense. Its intention is to make him dangerous,” I explained, letting the interviewers lead the conversation.

The back and forth went on for a while, but I presented a highlight reel of the last few months. Including a Rakiri gym video when Klein tried to flourish a wall climb and smashed his shoulder on the ledge while face planting into the mud.

The agents would not be arresting me today. They would need medical reports, and would require Klein, Hario, and Compassion Through Deeds to attest while truth scanned that these were sports injuries, and not some conspiracy to commit torture. We were also going to need to see an ICAD agent every two weeks for counseling. I had no idea what ICAD was, but I would investigate them later.

Finally, the agents appeared they were closing up the interview. I tried not to brace myself as they asked the complicated question. “One thing we need to know is, what is Klein to you? If he is just a crucial asset, then why haven’t you contacted a local volunteer family foster? Or was the military asset just a cover to find a male heir?”

I sighed, the truth wasn’t incriminating, but if I didn’t word it right, I would look like the worst sort of military tourist. “I had, originally, taken care of Klein as a key intelligence asset. Within that first week though, I had found that despite the decades of preparation, there wasn’t a process for someone to claim asylum as a child during first contact. He would be in military bureaucratic limbo without an advocate. We both know where he would end up.”

The room cooled by several degrees, which was a pity, I almost got the talkative agent to laugh at Klein’s antics. “Out of duty I looked into ways I could bring him home until I could find resources to place him in a stable situation with all the resources to help a xeno without a community. I found someone who was willing to help in exchange for reports on Klein’s adaptation to Shil’vati lifestyle. That’s Klein’s purpose as a military asset in my home.”

I continued. I was saying more on than I needed to, but if they did a follow up investigation later for some other incident, which was a when, not if, then I wanted this on record. “Klein has become part of this household though, despite, or maybe because, of his oddities. He may not be Shil’vati, but he seems to have integrated well. It’s why, while it was never my intention, when he is an adult, I will offer him full adoption, and title of home guardian.”

I watched the agents exchange looks, then the agent made a few taps on her slate. ‘Upper left, middle center, probably a message app’. I then listened for the telltale taps of a yes as a micro expression of a self-satisfied smile crossed the agent’s face. I decided to stop playing interviewee.

“So, you won the bet on if I would claim the human as my son, how long has that pool been building?” I asked folding my hands together.

The agent answered before she could think. “Two months… Wait!? How did you-”

The agent was cut off by the squawk of the slate’s speaker. “Agents you did well enough with the interview portion, however; you absolutely failed to secure the subject. Could you please illustrate to them why I stressed caution {petal of death’s veil}?”

The code name wasn’t one I had heard in decades, but I wasn’t going to snub an old handler. I kicked on my fast reaction mods to max speed and lunged over the table past the still sitting agents. I pirouetted and twisted the restraints into a loop as I brought them down over the left agent’s head and pulled carefully, lightly touching the chain of my restraints around the neck of the agent before she could even react.

I kicked off my mods and caught my breath as time returned to normal. Both agents’ eyes went wide with shock as the one not about to be strangled tried to get away to pull out her weapon. “W-who are you!?”

“I’m going to slowly release you and put my hands up, is that everything you needed {old friend}?” I directed my question to the slate, using the code word to show I was playing along.

“More than enough. Agent! Holster your weapon and come back to the safe room. We need to go over security procedures,” the slate responded, and the very brief confrontation was over.

Siltan walked in looking like she could bring about a thunderstorm by pure force of will. “We weren’t the only ones to get visits from the ‘majesty’s’ Interior today. Cee let me know that the Interior is also interrogated Reqellia as well.”

I now understood why these two rookies were here. It was a distraction for me. I grumbled as I picked up my slate and called Reqellia. Her face appeared a second later.

“By the Deep, it’s been a long day,” Reqellia breathed out as I heard a door slam, then she cursed some more.

“Tell me everything. Is Klein ok?” I asked.

“Cee says he’s fine and is waking him up. Klein might be getting a mod himself before she closes him up though because, oh- looks like it’s my day is going to get longer still. ICAD is here, and it’s a Hydrean in a Gearschilde clinic.” Reqellia hung up, and I stared at the phone in confusion.

It was time to find out what ICAD was.

Klein:

I blearily came to, as high powered, piercing white light flooded my half open eyes. I tried to move my arm to shield my face and found I couldn’t. Actually, I couldn't move or even feel anything from the neck down.

I started to panic as I turned my head, focusing on lettering on a terminal, tried to sigh, and felt what few muscles I could control turn to lead as I sank back on the medical bed. Thank the goddess, it was Shil and Gearschilde lettering on the slate and medical supplies.

“Good afternoon Klein, are you okay? Your heart rate spiked.” I heard Cee, or full name Compassion Through Deeds, speak and turned my head to see her. She wore a dark red lab coat and regarded me with unblinking cybernetic eyes. Most of her orange skin had been replaced with dark steel etched with stylized waves and swirls of silver. Her face still emoted in a pleasant smile, but had that uncanny valley look of unblemished synth skin. I looked down to see a dozen micro surgical tools still inside me.

I should have been screaming at the sight, but all I felt was relief and joy. “Yeah, I just worried for a half second that I had hallucinated the last few months and was actually on a back on Earth on some black-market operating table getting my kidney stolen.”

Cee was aghast. “Does that happen on Earth?”

I would shrug, but again, I couldn’t move, instead I responded. “Rumors of it happening, but I never knew anyone personally.”

Cee reassured me. “Well, good news Klein, you are on Sky, you are in a Gearschilde clinic where stealing vital organs is a legal, moral and religious crime of unrepentant severity. What I have done is remove your appendix, and let the sedatives wear off so we can discuss what you want in its place.”

“In place of my appendix? Why?” I asked, it wasn’t like I really needed the vestigial organ turn internal hand grenade.

“Customary in Gearschilde for surgery is to be about giving a better life than just taking from the body. So, any ideas of what would make your life better?”

I thought about the bruising, the constant having to put healing patches on, and the annoyance of doing so. I thought about the near fatality of almost blowing my appendix, and if something could have fixed the issue before it got out of hand. “What about a healing dispenser? I keep having to put on patches and gel at the end of the day, and if I miss a spot, I will pay for it later.”

Cee gave me a grateful expression. “That’s a perfect first implant. I was worried you were going to ask for something more aggressive. When I was your age, I got my first defensive mod, a retractable forearm knife. Of course, my next surgery was being stitched back together after accidently stabbing myself with it.”

I tried to chuckle, but I didn’t have control of my diaphragm for it. “So, what’s next?”

Cee explained. “Well, the fabricator in the other room is right now creating your implant. It shouldn’t take long; are you ok being immobilized for the next hour or so?”

I thought about it, and honestly, I was still surprised I wasn’t panicking. “No, but I’m going to get really bored just laying here, do the Gearschilde have any good myths or stories?”

I knew I was fishing in an untapped pool that was guaranteed to have something. I wasn’t expecting my doctor to be gleeful at the thought though. “Oh blessed be you child, I am a surgeon priest, half the reason I am in this vocation is to tell stories. I take it you know nothing about Gearschilde mythology, or even our history?”

It was on my list of rabbit holes to get into, but instead I binged the rest of Prince Of The Stars and cried, it was nice. “No, but I would love to hear them.”

“Well if you want to, every Shel we have open services and brunch. But since you are new to Gearschilde mythology we should start with one of my favorites. The story of the Hopestrider.”

The ceiling lights dimmed, and the sterile operating room felt surprisingly cozy as I leaned my head back. Listening to Cee starting up the tale. “Our sect requires us to lead what can best be called ‘child technician classes’. Learning to take care of machines, which includes us by the start of adolescence, if not before. It’s a critical life skill, and teaching it is considered an important part of our religious studies.”

‘Cyberpunk VeggieTales’ Squirrel brain chittered.

No one wants your opinion squirrel brain. I thought back.

Cee’s story: Hope Strider

“Long ago our world was full of harsh life. The valleys were often filled with poisonous mists and deadly predators that could rip apart even the strongest of our people. The mountain kingdoms were brutal fiefdoms that sent many to their deaths mining precious metals from the dangerous wastes of the valleys. Drilling into the heart of the mountains provided the power necessary to purify water, and later, steam engines turned those fiefdoms into empires. Expanding into the wastes using the lowest class of people as its foundation.”

Cee paused for dramatic effect. “Then, everything changed.”

“The ground shook, and the mountain kingdoms erupted in fire and molten rock. Radioactive dust from these cities turned volcanoes made the centers of civilization barren and deadly. Only the wasteland colonies in the poisonous mists provided any refuge, and so king and commoner alike huddled in the once disposable outposts of a ruined world. Our story starts a generation after the calamity with an unlucky child.”

I heard a ding, Cee stopped as the ceiling lights came up. “Oh dear, let me stop for a second to get the implant.”

I leaned back and thought about her nightmare world. When Cee returned, I didn’t even bother to open my eyes, too engrossed in the imagery of the story. “What happened to the child?”

I could hear the whirring as she started to work. Her voice I realized had taken a more scripted cadence. She must have automated her voice so she could focus. “In a metalworker’s home, a child was born with broken legs and brittle bones. It was common in those days for such a child to die that way. It was their first born and the parents did everything they could to save them. A surgeon was called. The child lost their legs, but kept their life.”

“The child lived in the workshop. Kept warm by the hearth’s fire, even unable to walk, they were curious. Day in and out, they watched their parents construct machines that helped the community make food, filter the air, and defend the homes from the starving, mutated, monsters that circled the fortress walls. The child felt helpless though. Only able to crawl within the confines of the home or be carried around like cargo about the maze-like town of winding stairs and narrow passageways.

“They spent much of their time learning, sitting near the hearth to keep warm, they did the careful work of filing gears and wheels needed to control what could be automated as each hand replaced was another that could be spent doing something else critical to keep the community alive. Still, the child wanted to do more. They could not deliver what they made, and had to rely on others to help them at every turn in life.”

“Little did the child know that in the hearth a machine spirit lived, getting by eating scrap metal that fell in and sleeping at night on the bed of embers. The machine spirit saw the child’s wish, an invention without form, and turned it into a dream for the child, since new machines would mean new machine spirits to play with.”

That night the child saw themselves flying over the cold gray landscape on a pair of machine legs. Traveling the dangerous paths to other towns, and giving the isolated towns hope and community. The child awoke with joy and crawled over to his workbench littered with scrap metal, now children….”

Cee stopped talking and her voice went back to an unscripted rhythm. “I just realized we can’t do the practical part of this story. In class each kid gets a hope strider stuffy with snaps to attach legs they make. We give them bits of copper. Show them how to bend and hammer it, and how to bond it by wrapping the joint in solder and then applying heat with a soldering iron heated in their own toy ‘hearth’ with a safety cover. Still we get a daily small burn or cut, but that in itself is a valuable lesson in tool safety.”

It sounded adorable in a weird, steampunk way. “Sounds fun, so, new legs?”

Cee got the que, as much as I loved the story, and the talk about kindergarten metal shop, I was still immobilized on the operating table. I heard surgical whirring, and the scripted voice came back. “Yes, the child works all night until they fit the new legs on, and for the first time stand up on their own! The parents are overjoyed as they watch them move about the house and that afternoon, with the help of an iron bar as a cane, they walk around their community by themselves.”

“However, it isn’t long before the legs start to see wear and tear, but the child persists, not wanting to stop and fix the creaking joints, until one day the legs stop working altogether and they fall down in a twisting staircase. Carried back to the workshop, they rest for days to heal before they are able to work again. Constructing a new set from the remains of the old. Now…”

Klein:

Cee stopped again, but this time she had moved away from me and was putting the now bloody surgical tools into a sanitizing system. “We're done! I am going to start removing the nerve blocks, so you’re going to be sore, but if things get too painful, let me know. Please, try not to move anything but your hands right now, even then I would advise against it.”

My whole body had that pins and needles feel and I tried to move my fingers, but it was sporadic and jerky. Cee distracted me by explaining my new implant. “So, this implant is very basic. It can only be requested to send diagnostic data. The implant only administers more healing serum at a safe, steady rate if, and only if, it doesn’t detect any in your bloodstream. There is an injection site with a color change circle around it. It uses standard go, caution, stop colors to let you know if it’s functioning. I want to wave your omni-pad over the site and check the diagnostics at least once a day. It should hopefully catch if something like this is happening again.”

I tried to not move as I felt my body twitch. My gut felt like I had been run over, repeatedly. I asked, “why didn’t my medical monitoring implant catch this?”

Cee explained. “That’s only good for basic vitals. Near universal indicators of life and activity such as heart rate and blood pressure. The new implant will be able to scan for elevated protein counts. So, if one of your other internal organs starts to malfunction you can get a more unambiguous message that I hope you won’t ignore before getting medivac’d through the city.”

I chuckled a little at that, and it hurt. “Ow, ok, no movement. I thought it was just a pulled muscle or something.”

Cee looked down at me sternly, and her voice took on a deeper, more authoritative tone. “Child, more than enough Gearschilde have died thinking they can just, push themselves past their organic parts failing, if you have a torn muscle that hurts after you’ve used healing gel, then it’s serious enough you need to come see me, or another xeno-doctor, immediately. That’s why I hope your new implant can fix things before it gets to that point.”

Cee brightened after that and went back to the explanation of my implant. “Now that I scolded you, there is a color changing circle over your implant’s location. It will change color when the healing serum runs low, or and will start to flash in color, and try to ping your omni-pad if it detects a malfunction. The implant uses a standard Shil’ implant autoinjector, and it will reject anything not meant for red blood standard biology, but still be careful, it’s not a perfect filtering system. Today I’m giving you a set of autoinjectors I want you to use throughout the week. It's fortunate that your implant’s primary function will speed up your recovery time.”

Ok, that’s cool to know, but.

‘What happened to Hopestrider?!’ Squirrel brain demanded.

“So, the story, what happens next?” I asked as Cee helped me sit up. My stomach still hurt, but the feeling was in the overworked muscle category rather than a gut punch.

Cee started to explain as I put on what was essentially gym clothes. Soft, baggy pants and shirt with easy pull away tabs if they needed to remove the clothes quickly for checkups and surgical intervention. “Well, we don’t have time to go over the Hope Strider as a story, or even a summary, but if you want to, my husband teaches the child technician class during open services on Shel, you could sit in and listen.

Right now, I will give you a family crafted picture book that tells the core story of Hope Strider growing up, and making their first delivery. After that it’s a loose selection of legends that are attributed to Hope Strider as they grow older and more accomplished, but while I get that book, I need you to speak to someone.”

Cee led me out of the operating room, and into a comfortable looking lounge where a… Hydrean was sitting in an Imperial business uniform reading an omni-pad. My brain pulled everything I knew of Hydreans out. A rabbit hole I had dug into one rainy Shel on the public information repositories.

She, they, single gendered I reminded myself, looked up and smiled at me calmly, mouth closed for politeness. Their skin was grass green with artful patches of bark on her face and neck, the result of cosmetic scarification. They looked human, or Shil’oid, but that was purposefully done. Even the somewhat standard looking ‘desert walker’ Hydreans normally had more, or less, limbs than standard. Biological modification was at the root of all Hydrean technology, ancient as the stone ax to other species.

I thought about how contentious Hydrean/Shil relationships were said to be. Their arid home planet was off limits to all but certified personnel who had been trained how to handle the dangerous mix of flora/fauna that instead of being different groups, was just a single taxonomy that had no distinction between predator and prey. With their complex biology, a Hydrean needed to undergo extensive body modification just to exist off their home world.

Cee left the room with a friendly goodbye and offered assistance “Hello Klein, I am Ka’tel. It’s wonderful to meet you. I am with the Imperial Child Assistance Division, or ICAD. My job is to help interspecies fosters and adoptions. How are you feeling today?”

I caught a glimpse of her teeth as they spoke. Triangular, and made of burnished metal meant to tear off chunks of animal, plant, or even rock, whole and let their stomachs’ mix of acids dissolve it into something the rest their body could use.

‘The agent in charge of your welfare is a plant/animal hybrid with a diet of ‘yes’, your doctor is a wholesome orange 40K mechanicus, and your crush is a were-lion, you are not ok .’ Squirrel brain remarked.

“I’m actually pretty good, despite the surgery, it’s actually a common issue for humans.” I said to Ka’tel, because my life was weird before the aliens, squirrel brain was just being a pessimistic asshole.

“Really? Do you know what caused it?” Ka’tel asked.

“It just, happens? Gets irritated or infected and then you need to get it removed.” I said nonchalantly. Ka’tel made a mark on her omni-pad.

“How did you know? It seems dangerous if it can happen suddenly, and you mentioned it before you passed out.” Ka’tel asked tone friendly and conversational.

“Oh, the side of your stomach hurts. I was hoping it was just a pulled muscle bec- Dammit!” I just remembered what happened before I woke up here.

“The raid game! Ko’tasa would have had to substitute for me and she’s not well balanced for our team mix.” I said with a exasperated sigh.

Ka’tel co*cked their head to one side, but the tone in her voice was humorous. “You were willing to ignore a possible life-threatening condition for a game?”

I explained, though I felt idiotic now. “I couldn’t tell. I get sore muscles all the time from gym, and sparing, and even from the auxiliary work, honestly my commandant doesn’t really know where to put me sometimes. Last week I helped with road clearing for the new town to go up a few [miles] away, and the girls could barely keep up with me.”

Ka’tel seemed to be enjoying my rambling. “Sounds like you really get put to work.”

“Not really? The auxiliary is the only work I do, and if I wanted to stop I just, can. It’s not like I need to worry about buying food.” I knew what I was saying seemed strange while living in the Imperium.

It was the first hint that Ka’tel was controlling her expressions when she seemed more attentive and… relieved? “That’s delightful news to hear! Is there anything about your living situation that bothers you?”

I paused and thought about it, and really couldn’t see anything. “Not really?”

“Anything, or anyone, you miss from Earth?” Ka’tel asked, stressing that last bit, dropping a mental bomb on my head and I froze, mouth partly open with a half formed response. When was the last time I even thought about Earth as more than an abstract concept? It hadn’t been [six months] since I left but…

I didn’t feel anything.

I had lost touch with every person I knew months before I had become homeless, and I had quite frankly become a ghost in the school. When was the last time any human approached me?

I looked at Ka’tel, and their expression was one of controlled neutrality. Why was I not freaking out?

I had a sensation of the room spinning. I asked, “No, in the end I wasn’t close to anyone. Is this, normal?”

“I don’t know Klein, by most sentient standards what you went through was unusual, and from what little I know about humans that isn’t propaganda, it’s unusual for humans as well. What I do know is right now you seem happy and healthy, and that’s my top priority.” Ka’tel said as they stood and offered me a stiff plastic card with their contact details on it.

“We will be chatting every other week to see how you are adjusting. I might ask to visit you at the youth auxiliary depot, the gym or at home. I really am glad to see you are doing just fine, but if you ever need a way out that card has an emergency signal function.” they said and was about to open the door before I spoke up.

“How should I refer to you?” I asked, and once they realized, Ka’tel gave me a genuine toothed smile that was both menacing and goofy at the same time .

“Most people don’t learn enough Hydrean biology to ask. Her, that’s how everyone in the office sees me, and it’s more convenient socially.” She said as she opened the door to an anxious Itaro standing next to a serious looking Ruhal and Reqellia.

“I need to speak to you Ruhal, and Reqellia, you should join us for this conversation as well.” Ka’tel said as she ushered me out.

Cee led us into a gaming room with a long table on one side, and a set of couches on the other. She handed me an overloaded plate of cookies with water, and stepped out, closing the door behind us. “Eat those, your stomach has healed, but it’s going to need the calories to recover.”

Only then did I realize I was salivating at the smell of warm sugar, and flour made of Kasan grain if I was identifying the green color correctly. I put the plate of cookies on the table, and snarfed them as I sat down.

After swallowing the fourth cookie semi-whole, I looked up to see Itaro’s face fighting a war between impatient, apprehensive, and hopeful. I stopped, realizing what I was doing, and sipped some water to stall for time.

I was about to pull my omni-pad out from my pockets when Itaro suddenly put her hand out to stop me. “Wait! Klein, I need to tell you something…”

She was silent for a long moment, what was she worried about?

“I… Like you, as, I find you…. Attractive.” Itaro said, her voice stuttering.

‘Oh, that makes things easy’ Squirrel brain, was for once, right.

“I like you too.” I said as I leaned in and kissed her.

Chapter 18: Chapter 18

Chapter Text

Reqellia:

“Before we begin, I need to be certain Ruhal. If there was a community of humans, a refuge that Klein could have gone to, would you have still adopted him?” Ka’tel asked, her tone deathly serious and her eyes laser focused with pupils no smaller than pinpricks.

Ruhal didn’t hesitate. “No. While I am incredibly lucky to have him in my home; Klein should be at least around his own species. Especially considering that we have very little practical knowledge of humans.”

Ka’tel’s eyes dilated back to normal, and she sat back in her chair. “Good, because while I understand you had only the best intentions; you have, quite frankly, done something ethically appalling.”

I fidgeted, still on edge after finding out just what happened on the Mercy’s Blessing.

Ruhal blinked as he sat up, I braced myself at the thought of getting between Ruhal and Ka’tel. A concept sure to wind me up in the hospital no matter what augments I had. Ruhal had been a trained assassin, and the Hydrean had at least one poisonous method of self defense.

“If I have done something wrong, please let me know and tell me how to fix it.” Ruhal’s voice was level, but I knew the forced neutral expression was mask of rage to me. I understood why he felt that way, Ka’tel had already explained it to me, and I was disturbed. I really hoped he didn’t have any idea what he had done.

“Klein was prescribed level one suppressants. In an unstable environment, such as a medical transport ship, they are to be used as a last resort. Only in cases where the patient is liable to take their own life without relief. Using them on children is a common technique of traffickers who are selling boys around his age.”

Ruhal’s mouth hung open, his professional façade completely stripped away to reveal shock.

Finally, Ruhal stuttered. “I… I didn’t know. We treat marines with suppressants all the time. I knew it was different with children, but Cee- Er, Compassion Through Deeds, only recommended he stop taking them immediately when he came here during his first checkup. I… I never thought they were dangerous. The trauma doctor recommended it after Klein had a mental breakdown, and Klein seemed so much happier and relaxed after taking them.”

I nodded as an affirmative that Ruhal was telling the truth and Ka’tel shifted her body language in response. “You followed a trauma doctor’s recommendation? Do you have the name of this doctor?”

Ruhal explained, “Dr. Lital. I knew it was pseudonymous, but I assumed it was a code name to keep operational security while treating commandos or intelligence officers. Goddess damn him! He was registered on an official military vessel!”

The name sent a chill down my spine while half remembered words I had heard while semi-conscious on a long ago operating table. ‘I just find broken things on life’s beach and put them back together.’

I spoke up. “Do you have a picture of this ‘Dr. Lital?’”

Ruhal looked at me, and for the first time I saw how much this was breaking him. He never intimidated or forced our children into anything. I held his gaze, and he knew what I was asking. ‘Was it him?’.

“I will call in a few favors to identify this sh*t eater,” Ruhal cursed, balling his fists, he was angry at himself as much as anyone else.

Ka’tel just sighed for effect before continuing. “Ruhal, if I thought there was a more stable and safer place for Klein right now, he would already be gone. This situation is complicated to say the least.”

“Compassion Through Deeds could not have known the implications of this kind of trauma treatment, just that it wasn’t recommended by medical texts to prescribe to anyone who seems well adjusted. I only know because it’s part of my training as an ICAD agent, and in this edge case, the suppressants may have actually helped.”

Ka’tel put her hand out to stifle any comments or questions as Ruhal tried to respond. “I need to explain, Klein was taking emotional trauma suppressants for only a month. The normal prescription, the one that slavers use, and the one originally prescribed to Klein, takes almost a full year to be permanent. I contacted a pediatric trauma psychologist, and while he was horrified, he said any long-term effects would have worn off by now. Klein would be the same now as if he hadn’t taken them at all.”

“Which brings us to the other mystery. Klein should not be this well-adjusted to his new environment. We have studies of others, across a multitude of species, that went through similar changes, and all fared much, much, worse, often ending in drug dependance, violence, even sucide.”

“I have the information you gave the Interior, and while depressing; it gives weight to your theory in the reports that Klein was emotionally detached from humanity even before we found him. If true, the suppressants only catalyzed, rather than caused, Klein’s change in personality.”

I studied Ruhal, his body language, his expressions, I didn’t have his training, but I had been married to him for almost [twenty human] years. I could see he was holding back tears, his body hunched over the table, not making eye contact with anyone in the room.

Only once I saw him this frightened, when our eldest, Tel’dara, disappeared without contact for a solid week after she and Siltan had a fight about future school plans. That shrill, scared, voice he used on Tel’dara when she returned still haunts me.

Ruhal clearly had come to see Klein as a son, and without knowing it, he had almost done what he had executed others for, changing Klein to suit his own household. I could feel the weight of Ruhal’s guilt dragging him down.

“What can I do to help Klein?” Ruhal asked in a small voice, no longer acting as the hyper-competent intelligence agent, but a lost father trying to help his children.

“What you already have been doing, and ensuring this Dr. Lital never has another patient under his care,” Ka’tel replied, and then touched Ruhal’s hand to get his attention.

“Ruhal, whatever mistakes you made pale in comparison to your sense of duty to care for Klein. Without you, he would have been whisked away, and used in the worst possible sense. Can you do me a favor and give ICAD access to those reports? Klein isn’t the only human ICAD found off world since the invasion.”

The implications of Ka’tel’s last statement ringed like hammer on steel.

Some of the intelligence officers came back as Ruhal countered in required suspicion, though in a less authoritative tone. “I will honor an Official request; if what you say about Dr. Lital is true, then I have to double my background checks on everyone coming into contact with my family.”

Ka’tel stood up, if not happy, calmed by the discussion. As she opened the door, she said, “Of course, I am glad you are an honorable person, Ruhal. Truth be told, I am excited to see what Klein becomes as an adult. It’s rare in my profession that we find a case that’s already in a good family.”

Kind and Curious Acts sat with Cee at the large meeting table with sweets and drinks as they finished paperwork for the day. “Please! Sit down and eat something for a few minutes longer, I don’t want to interrupt.”

“What would be interrupting?” Ka’tel asked suspiciously.

“Two awkward young adults confessing their love, what else?” Cee answered wryly, like that was obvious. The humor helped me relax.

“I must take my leave then, thank you for your time.” Ka’tel said briskly as she walked out of the Clinic.

Cee sighed. “No time for community it seems. Ruhal, you look dire. Sit down, eat, if you need to talk privately, I always have family rooms available even if I must clean out a storage closet.”

The joke fell on shaken ears. Ruhal dropped into the chair and munched on a sweet cake robotically. He did that for a few minutes, staring across the table before asking Cee. “Klein, does he seem… off to you?”

Cee co*cked her head in a question. “I have never met a fully sane adolescent. So, no more than usual. Is this about what the agent said?”

She poured and handed Ruhal a cup of tea. “Let’s talk tomorrow when you are on a more even keel. Klein is Klein, and if we try to hammer it out tonight, whatever opinion you come to will have to be reworked in the morning anyways.”

Accepting the cup, Ruhal took a sip before eating his second sweet cake. As he became more aware of his surroundings, we finally were able to calm down. He looked intently at where I was rubbing my wrists, and then up to ask silently. I shook my head, a near universal across all species of no. I didn’t want to talk about it right now.

The memory of the heavy-duty chains with cuffs able to deliver a debilitating electroshock autonomously if I had so much as made a sudden movement still made me itch. I had been forced to wear them during the interview with the Interior. It had only been thirty minutes, but again I was reminded that I had been made into a living weapon, and that same person might have had access to Klein. I chewed thoughtfully, if I ever saw the bastard again, I would castrate him, it would only be equivalent after all.

Itaro:

We sat together on the couch as I tried to slow my breathing. I have a boyfriend. I threatened another male over him. He’s human. He kissed me!

“Breathe, we can take this as slow as you need,” Klein said, seemingly unconcerned by what he had done. The implications. The consequences. My mind raced as everything overwhelmed me.

I stared at the wall for another minute before I felt warmth and pressure on my hand as Klein spoke. “I’m sorry if I was too forward.”

I looked down at him. The worry, the care, he was showing. I stuttered out my words, but dammit I needed to say something. “It… It’s not that. Goddess and dirt mothers, I want this. I want you-.”

My brain caught up with my words, and I clamped my mouth shut. I tried to think, but all my thoughts just started to fall over each other and-.

“Itaro, you have me. I’m not going anywhere, want to spend some time together on Shel weekend to hash this out?” Klein said, holding my gaze.

Shel was two days away. I could sort my thoughts out and get out of this state of semi-panic. I responded, words on rapid fire. “Yes! I-Would-Like-That-Very-Much!”

Klein smiled and helped me up to my feet. But, instead of letting go, he held onto my hand as we walked into the main lobby area. In there I could see Ruhal, Reqellia, Cee and Acts all sitting down.

Looking at us, holding hands

Nononono. I saw Reqellia’s smile, her omni-pad out. Taking a picture.

I tugged and Klein let go. I felt ashamed that I had publicly pulled away from him, but I couldn't handle the feeling.

“We’re ready to head home,” Klein announced as I stood mutely. There were some brief discussions. I was adamant about walking home right now once I found my voice, thanking, but refusing any car ride.

I strolled down the smooth walkways towards home. The recessed streetlights were already on, even with daylight still available. I checked my omni-pad, and sighed at the message from Au’tes.

‘At your house. Let me know if you want me to leave.’

I typed back, my fingers trembling from all the day’s events. ‘No, but can you run decoy when I get home? I need some time alone in my room.’

I put my omni-pad away and ran off the walkway into the park at a full speed sprint until I was at the edge of bay water where no one was around.

I took a deep breath, then screamed at the top of my lungs, not a word, but just all the emotions I had bottled up today rolled into a single syllable that I belted out until my throat hurt, and I felt better.

I took the walkway along the beach home. Feeling the sea salt air against my fur. As the overwhelming feeling dissipated, joy and excitement took its place. I have a boyfriend.

And then I remembered the cooling vest that was still sitting in my locker. “Well, at least I have a gift picked out already.”

Klein:

I stood in front of the large oven-like food heater, the hum mirroring my own thoughts as it thoroughly cooked a large bowl of turox stew in a range of microwave and terahertz wavelengths that would be illegal on Earth for a cooking appliance.

Squirrel brain played a recording of the ancient dial up tone for ambiance.

My recovery clothes felt weird, but in a good way, the feel of kissing Itaro had also been weird, but in a very good way.

What didn’t feel right was my own body. It felt heavy and light at the same time. At the ding I pulled the handle of the transparent door of the food heater and unintentionally slammed it open. When did this happen?

I headed to my room, watching the su-, the daylight, creep out of sight. Closing my room, I ate spoonful after spoonful of Turox stew. I couldn’t help myself; Cee had explained the healing serum needed calories and protein, but the feeling of starvation was all encompassing until I ate half the bowl, stopped for a breath, then finished the rest off a little slower. That leftover meal was meant for a full-grown Shil woman. I didn’t feel like I overate though. If anything I could go for seconds.

I locked my door, something I usually never did, but I didn’t want to get caught just looking at myself like I was Narcissus.

This wasn’t narcissism. Something fundamentally about me had changed.

I stripped in front of the mirror and inspected what was there. My arms were bigger, sure, that was to be expected, but I could see why all my Shil’vati cut clothes had become so tight on me. I was no longer the skinny, lithe, teenager. I looked like a halfway decent American football lineman.

I moved my head that looked tiny on my shoulders now. Twisted my torso this way and that. I put on my heirloom Shil clothes that had been tailored to me when me and Ruhal got here.

They were too small, they had been for a while. Cut to a figure I didn’t have anymore, and the proportions wouldn’t really fit me even if they were taken out and panels added. They still wouldn’t look right.

Shil clothing was too slim, meant for sleek bodies. As I donned some of my more formal clothes, I flexed my arm and watched the sleeves bulge, the seams starting to tear on the century old cloth.

I sighed. If I wanted to look right in Shil’vati society, I was going to have to ask Siltan to drop a lot of money on new clothes for me.

As I moved to grab another serving of turox stew in the kitchen, I noticed Ruhal was sitting with Siltan draping herself over his shoulders. Just as I pulled open the refrigerator door, I overheard her say, “Ruhal, Telia has been out of town for two weeks, and I know today was particularly bad for Reqellia. So if anything, I encourage you to spend the night with her, but I want you to myself first day of Shel.”

I could hear a playful lilt to Ruhal’s voice. “Of course, my love. I do aim to please.”

I decided on taking the pack of cold Easi bean filled buns as a fee for being exposed to this public display of affection. I glanced over, and they were kissing. Shelving the topic of clothing, I called out, “This house has several rooms, could you please utilize one instead of being public?”

Laughter followed me as I left the kitchen. Pulling a second bun out of the pack, I sat on a bench in the courtyard and felt the relatively cool night breeze pass through as I ate the bun in four bites.

‘So the married couple can’t be affectionate in public, but you can hold hands with another species like a degenerate’? Squirrel brain criticized.

It was right, still, weird to see parents being affectionate.

It was right, still, weird to see parents being affectionate. I needed to get used to that.

Instead I distracted myself by figuring out what I was going to wear. I ran my hand through my hair, feeling the frizzy, tangled nest it had become. I needed a haircut too.

I started to go down the rabbit hole of galactic fashion.

Itaro:

I walked up the beaten dirt pathway to the family complex sitting near the edge of the seaside forest. It was standard for much of Shil smothered Rakiri architecture with the core built of thermocast steel wrapped in a façade of stone and wood.

The outer wall had a wraparound covered patio much like Hario’s gym. Right now, a dozen Rakiri pups comprising of my younger sisters, visiting cousins, and one younger brother, running around it playing a game of jikarzi ball. Bouncing the shuttleco*ck from one another using knees and elbows.

The arch leading to the Shil’vati style central courtyard had become my father’s leading contribution to the house. A Mosaic of tiles covered the open gate doors depicting the four traditional seasons flowing from one to another in an unbroken circle when the gates closed. It had taken him two years to cut and set, but it was comforting every time I passed by them.

Inside Au’tes stood playing with my youngest sisters, gently roughhousing by letting them use her as a jungle gym. Climbing across her outstretched massive lavender arms while laughing raucously.

Au’tes saw me, and manically smiled with the outdoor lighting glinting off her gold tinted tusk braces disguised as jewelry as she put down my sisters. “Race you to the dining room! Maybe I can steal some pre-dinner Pipektas?”

They nodded in agreement, eyes wide in anticipation at the prospect of ill-gotten appetizers. As they bolted inside I sat down at the picnic table, only to hear the soft, heavy footsteps of my father Bahtet approaching as he eased himself on the bench. I caught a glimpse of his blackish fur powdered in white splotches by grain flour. “Hario showed me the picture of you and that human boy holding hands, along with the explanation of all the details of today.”

The humor in his voice was drowned out by utter horror that Reqellia had sent the picture to Hario, who by now had distributed it to half the pack. I threw my head back and groaned, Gitron almost certainly had girlfriends who would, by honor, now have me as their mortal enemy.

“What should I do!?” I whined.

Thankfully Bahtet understood my fear with what happened. “Apologize, and say it was a misunderstanding if they come sniffing; or write if you want to be proactive. Gitron did strike your boyfriend in such a way that required a hospital trip. Any Rakiri would take offense to that male or female.”

“But, he wasn’t my boyfriend yet,” I said unsure.

“They don’t know that,” Bahtet responded mischievously.

“Au’tes asked if you two could eat in your room. On this occasion of our eldest daughter snagging a boy, I think it would only be tradition so don’t worry about having to explain this to your sisters yet,” Bahtet said as he stood up, his massive frame beguiling his ephemeral cunning.

“Thank you, one question, this isn’t going to get weird with him being your ex’s adopted son?” I asked.

Bahtet laughed heavily and heartily. “That was over a decade ago, and I wouldn’t say me and Reqellia dated precisely, and no, there is no attachment, blood or law, she’s an old friend now.”

The smile I saw was the same as the time he picked me up from the sleepover at the commando barracks in the morning. Fur mussed, and mane a wreck, with Reqellia by his side.

I rubbed my eyes to wash out the image. “No, I imagine not, I’m going to my room.”

Au’tes was already in my room, laying on the floor in the dark, sweat pouring off her as she caught her breath. “Your… your sisters are going to kill me with all this running.”

Au’tes’s family assumed that her hardened frame was from some extreme training regime with Hario she did in preparation for joining the Death’s Head commandos, and not because she led children’s games. Of course, neither Au’tes nor Hario would ever tell them otherwise. The Shil’vati family would be horrified if they knew we let their ‘child of the War Goddess Hele’ anywhere near children.

If Au’tes was the child of any goddess it would Jrafell, after all, it’s Jrafell’s day she was most known for celebrating a little too enthusiastically.

Au’tes sat up and leaned back on the wall as she started to come down from her ‘war rage’ of raiding the family kitchen mid dinner preparation. She pulled out of her pocket a stick of kit’chi tree bark and chewed it to help with the crash. “So, you owe me a story.”

It took a little over an hour to go over everything. Au’tes was a good listener, especially after a comedown. She asked a few questions to clarify but didn’t try to offer advice or ‘solve’ anything. Once I finished, we sat in companionable silence for a good [ten minutes].

“When do I get to meet Klein?” Au’tes asked as she stood up and put the mangled stick in the garbage.

“I don’t know? Let’s see how this first date goes. Klein seems chill about everything, so I don’t know what his hangups on relationships might be, if any,” I explained.

“You don’t think he will be… scared of me?” Au’tes asked, her shaky voice was a sign she was hitting the low point of her episode. I got up and sat down next to her, she stiffened, and then leaned on me as she let herself relax.

“Not one bit, as I said, he seems chill with everything,” I told her, and then my omni-pad dinged. I pulled it out of my pocket and as I read the message, I laughed.

“Can you pick me up Shel morning? I need new clothes, and a haircut.”

“Your first date is going to be a makeover? That seems a bit, forward?” Au’tes said with a mixture of jealousy and disbelief.

“Yeah, he’s a bit crazy. What have I gotten myself into?” I responded, knowing full well what I had indeed, gotten myself into.

Chapter 19: Chapter 19

Chapter Text

Morning after Klien’s surgery, day before Shel.

Ruhal:

I woke in the gray shadows as late morning filtered through the opaqued window, hearing Reqellia’s soft breathing, regular as a ship’s timepiece. I rolled on my side and admired her bare back. What had once been a network of dark blue surgical scars and thin seams where synthetic and organic skin met was now a tapestry of ink.

I traced my finger over her shoulders and the base of her neck where the slender image of the mythical skyfish slept. I dragged my nail lightly down her spine, each side flanked by wing-like panels of synthetic skin now tattooed to resemble bright plumage.

Reqellia groaned and sat up a bit. The once massive splotches of flash cloned skin on her hips now shown with an iridescent with a scale pattern. I looked up to see her expression of self-satisfaction as my hand rested on her, and then down where puncture marks that peppered her ribcage had been turned into the gears and sprockets of a sailor’s pocket watch.

“Want another go?” I asked. A night’s rest might be enough time….

Then a different hunger let itself be known as my stomach grumbled.

Reqellia smiled as she pulled away from me and got out of bed, taking just a little too long to put on clothing in a way that could not be anything other than deliberate teasing. Showing off her stomach, a depiction of an ancient ship caught in a storm with its dozens of scars now worked into wave caps, sails, and lightning strikes, before hiding it under the usual black fabric of her long shirt. She offered me a hand up. “We are not in our twenties anymore love. Let’s get breakfast first.”

The kitchen was awash in a mix of sweet and spicy smells. Klein had apparently recovered from yesterday’s surgery and, without exercise or a schedule, he had decided a cooking experiment was the best way to spend his energy. Siltan was sitting there holding her stomach. “Oh, good, you’re here. He raided the pantry and decided which flours and spices make a good… Um, what did you call them?”

“Pancakes!” I heard Klein yell as he banged around the kitchen with four different pitchers, each half full of different colored batter.

“They’re good, but he’s made a few too many,” Siltan observed as Klein brought out three more stacked plates and set them down on the table.

“I think this should be enough for the rest of the weekend!” Klein exclaimed as he went back to the stove top and turned off the heat and cooking assistant arms that had been working a spatula before folding them back into the hood.

“So, can I talk about something?” Klein asked hesitantly as he sat down, and I understood now that this was as much a bribe as burning off excess energy.

“Go on..” I said before digging in. If it was something outrageous I would have time to contemplate while chewing. Dammn they were good. Reqellia had been teaching him well.

“I need new clothes. Specifically ones that fit me. Oh, and I was thinking it would make a good first date with Itaro….” Klein began, spooling up his proposal.

Breakfast planning lasted until lunch with side conversations over messaging on omni-pads. I was again thankful for my father “arranging” my first marriage to the Od’tamal family after he found out my plans to join the interior to see the galaxy. I was so mad at him then, it was uncharacteristically traditional of him.

Until I met Siltan, and her then-girlfriend Telia. Everything clicked together, even to my idealistic, teenage self.

I could travel among the stars with a home to come back to, and a way to ward off unwanted attention. They got a cover, a husband, a lover, and most importantly, a friend.

“So, I’m going to head out with Klein for the afternoon to pick up a few things before tomorrow,” Reqellia said, which broke my train of thought. I looked up to see her winking at me as she closed the door.

Siltan was leaning on the counter, expectantly. Reqellia had politely tricked me.

“Oh no, we have the whole afternoon to ourselves. Whatever shall we do?” I questioned sardonically.

It was a very active morning, and by the lunchtime, I was hungry again. Thankfully, there were plenty of pancakes left over.

Klein:

We had another [five minutes] at the bus shelter, and again I started to go over tomorrow in my head. The date, the new outfit, the haircut. I pulled down one of my braids. They were looking pretty frayed, but it took too much time to clean them up every day, and I had stuff to do.

“Remember; tomorrow just message me when you are finished, and I will pick you up,” Reqellia said as she scanned the empty road.

“Where are we staying tomorrow night?” I asked, I had remembered Ruhal and Siltan talking yesterday about having the house to themselves, and that meant we needed to be somewhere else.

The smirk in Reqellia’s voice was unmistakable. “Oh, this weekend is going to be a Backpacker’s Guide to the Galaxy for you.”

“Don’t you mean Hitch-,” I tried to say, but Reqellia continued and I was interested.

“We are staying at the Gearschilde community center. If you ever get stranded in a large city without money, find some Gearschilde Industrialists. They always have a place for you to stay,” she told me as - right on time - the purple metal gleam of the semi-autonomous bus appeared rounding the corner and stopped at our shelter. The doors opened, and in the driver's seat sat an older Helkam woman who only glanced our way before going back to playing on her slate. Letting the bus do all the manual driving.

By the time we sat down I had already pulled out my omni-pad and started consuming the summary of different Gearschilde religious sects. Bringing my head up occasionally as Ruhal taught me, I noted the defining features such as clothes, tattoos, and piercings of the passengers.

‘People watching’ had become a bit of a competition between us during “game night” as we tried to see who noticed the weirdest detail that we saw on our way to the Nighkru tea shop to play Tak’list.

I looked up to see a Shil woman a few years older than me quickly diverting her eyes. The tattooed face and silver piercings were consistent with the local Sharpfish “gang”, though that was overselling them a bit as Ruhal put it. Easy to clean graffiti and consenting unsanctioned blood sports wasn’t exactly syndicate level crime. I glanced at Reqellia calmly staring the Sharpfish down. She glanced down at me and her grin told me she was enjoying herself.

I got halfway through the introduction to my newest bit of “light reading” before we arrived in town and stepped off into the wide thoroughfares.

Shil’vati cities were wide, boxy, and squat. Like a mass of indoor malls packed close rather than a cluster of skyscrapers. The roads were also tiny compared to the walkways, mostly buses driving up and down the streets with only a few cars and militia vehicles interspaced. I had found out during my first few weeks it was taboo for anyone outside mid level nobility to drive personal vehicles into town except in emergencies or official business in populated areas.

The buildings themselves were unique to Sky’s abnormal acceptance of multi-species culture. The upper floors were Shil stock standard, with the gleaming metal roofs done in star patterns and murals depicting the Shil gods and heroes while the lower floors were a dizzying mix of different facades.

Across from us was the mix of wood and sandstone that marked traditional Senthe building materials. The patio of that particular restaurant had both regular chairs, and fake, possibly heated, tree branches that the snake-like Senthe patrons coiled around on.

Reqellia motioned me to follow her.

“Where are we?” I asked as we passed a Helkam leaning over a counter displaying prices for flash frozen fish. I was a little surprised to see a few of them were not local to the Imperium, much less this planet.

“Foodstuffs trading district. Siltan, and by extension our house, manages harvesting and refining certain spices, herbs, and oils for a few subsidiaries of a major trading house here on Sky,” Reqellia said as we stopped in front of a storefront covered in false vines and flowers with a sign reading ‘Specialty Mills’ above it.

Inside sat a male Arttamine, glasses perched on his angular face. He looked up, his shiny, blue, gemlike eyes glittered with curiosity. “Reqellia! I see Siltan has sent you out for errands again, and is this your newest charge under your care? Whatever happened to him! He lost his tusks, and his skin looks sickly.”

The Arttamine got off his chair, and The tall, spindly body was taller than me, but just a hair shorter than Reqellia, he quietly as he slowly walked toward us.

I spoke up with a bow, one of the few Arttamine bits of culture I knew from reading Xenocultures: greetings and insults. I decided on a bit of humor too. “I fear I was born with a case of humanism, and it’s rather untreatable.”

The surprise registered immediately. “Human?! Didn’t we just make contact with your species?”

‘Contact’, that was a euphemism and understatement all rolled into one. I responded, “Yes, but it’s a confusing story on how I ended up here.”

The Arttamine, remembering his manners, bowed slightly in return, using the counter for support. “Well, you are in good hands with the Od’tamal family. I am Kit’thare.”

The sound of much heavier hooves stomping towards us echoed through the humble shop. A female Arttamine appeared from the back room carrying a heavy, sealed, boxy container. She was similar in height to Kit’thare, but four legged instead of two, with a centaur’s body, and a set of colorful, flat horns reminiscent of moose, adorned in flowers. Her eyes were the yellow of Topaz. “Here you go, Reqellia. As ordered!”

‘Psychedelic Centaur-moose, groovy’ Squirrel brain teased.

She peered down at me, and nearly reared up. Her expression was one of shock. The snippet from the Xenoculture books I read had touched on the Arttamine sordid history of forced genetic modification by a now eradicated group of slavers. So looking kinda like a Shil boy who had been heavily modified, possibly genetically, was probably deeply disturbing to them. “Who are you? What happened to your skin, and your mouth?”

Kit’thare put a hand on her shoulder. “Stringmate, he’s human. They look like that. It’s Reqellia’s newest charge.”

“Son. Klein is my son,” Reqellia said with finality, and Kit’thare tilted his head just so in an unreadable question. Even I was a bit surprised she put it like that. I wasn’t legally an heir after all, or did something happen yesterday?

The female Arttamine calmed down and turned to her husband. “Ok love. I trust you. Reqellia, I also trust you. It’s nice to meet you Klein, my newest friend!”

She held her husband for a second longer, then trundled into the back rooms again. I noted how the Arttamine sexual dimorphism was radical, even when compared to the Shil’vati standard. To the point that males were two legged and females were four, with hooves. I had several subjects to add to my reading list.

‘How do they mate?’ Squirrel brain chittered in my head, apparently asking the important questions in this situation.

“Carefully,” I answered myself quietly aloud as Kit’thare and Reqellia were busy discussing details of the house business and I listened in. I tried to piece the counts and prices together, correlating them together in my head felt right. I could almost feel the numbers, like a complex dance. I started to tap my fingers on my leg to the unseen tempo of a song, before long I was getting fidgety.

When I realized that the cargo was for us. I decided to stop being useless. “Let me get that.”

Kit’thare turned to me and looked in utter horror. “Klein! that’s too heavy for you! Wait stop!- oh.”

I pulled on one handle and in one swift motion hefted it onto my shoulder. It wasn’t light, but nothing compared to a Rakiri training log, and perfect for light exercise. “I’m ready when you are.”

We stepped outside as Kit’thare meekly waved at us with a parting. “May the empress bless you.”

Once out of sight of the shopfront Reqellia murmured “Here, give me the box, and let's rent an autocab for the rest.”

I tightened my grip a bit. “I can get it home though.”

Reqellia insisted though with a low ‘this is a lesson’ tones. “It’s going to look bad if you’re seen hefting something half your size while I have free hands. Appearances matter, even here. Especially here, among so many xenocultures”

I groaned and offered our new set of foodstuffs to her. With my chore stolen from me, I ‘people watched’ instead while quietly wishing I could just pull out my omni-pad and research the different clothing and accessories all around me. Reqellia rented an autocab out of a dispenser that looked right at home in an airport terminal. By the time we finished picking up spices, oil, four different kinds of fish, and a quarter of a butchered turox carcass, the autocab was groaning under the weight. We called a taxi, which was fully automated versus the bus we arrived in, and we rolled slowly back home.

It was a fun shopping trip, one made all the more interesting as I saw Reqellia ward off more than one Shil female who may or may not have had eyes on me. After the fifth would be gawker,I could understand why even after I was certified with the shock baton I wasn’t going into the city alone, especially at night. It would be a constant stream of harassment for me.

I mentally shrugged, just another thing that was normal now.

Ruhal:

I sat on my plush office couch while reading my slate. Siltan had been napping next to me for the last hour in the late afternoon. The stress of Telia being out near the Periphery again, now the Interior had come stomping into our house, and it had worn her nerves to the absolute limit over the last few days.

Not to mention submitting complex paperwork to change lines of succession with Klein tentatively becoming the next house steward. I hoped this Shel would make up for some of that.

I was happy to see her relaxed now, but I had my own worries.

I had pulled metadata on Klein’s media consumption, and anything tagged human was rapidly declining. How do I go about keeping Klein grounded in his own species when he seems to outright reject them?

The subject of Earth and humanity seemed to be encased in a shell of bitterness for Klein. Anytime I brought it up, Klein would give me this look of disgust. I hadn’t heard him speak in his own tongue in the last three weeks. He was unfazed by the idea of dating Itaro after only a few months of even knowing other sentients existed.

As nice as it was to see him accepting his new life, he needed a tether to his old one before he lost himself. That evening, I sent Klein a message to come to my office, and a few minutes later he was knocking at my door.

“Come in!” I yelled. I needed to make this seem… transactional, or he might get the notion it was something more.

“You asked for me Ruhal?” Klein asked, unsure.

I smiled, standing up from my desk. “Yes! Can you help me out again? I got a data dump of Earth culture that my superior officers need me to analyze, but I can make a lot faster work of it if you help me.”

I was only half lying. I was getting regular data dumps, but they were just Agent Militai wanting me to act as an off world data cache for her. In return I could pursue it for anything that might be worth sending through my own channels.

There was a change in the room as Klein nodded and sat down at the worktable. I grabbed two slates off the bookshelf and, just like those first days in orbit, we watched, listened and discussed human media from their point of view.

Klein could emotionally distance himself in this setting. Slate in hand, clinical notes were being written down as we went over a few mainstream English songs popularized the last few decades. We then switched to popular recorded plays after that, with me trying to hook his interest in drama to keep his suspicions at bay.

I was going to make this a weekly thing, and the only other person who would see these notes was Ka’tel so she would have a better understanding of Klein. It wasn’t perfect, but this was at least some avenue for him to hold onto his humanity, even if he may not want it later.

I hoped it was enough.

Chapter 20: Chapter 20

Chapter Text

Itaro:

I tried to distract myself by looking out the large windows framed by scuffed dull purple alloy. I fidgeted with the flat pulpwood box on my lap as the old city bus lumbered through the low-income apartment block suburbs broken up by small factories, tiny parks, schools, shopping malls, restaurants, temples, and other minutiae of the community.

I looked down at the box containing dad’s old cooling vest. A vest I had tailored surreptitiously for Klein as a “friendly gift”. A utility present to get closer to him and maybe ask him out in a month or two.

That scheme had gone out the window two days ago the moment I stood between Klein and Giton. That same day, Klein had kissed me, and the gift now was part of the first date. I’m still stupefied on how forward he’d been. It didn’t help that he was the adopted son of my father’s ex-lover.

Yeah, this was weird, Humans are weird.

The calm chime sounded to let me know that we reached the junction of thirty-seventh and forty-fifth street. I sighed inwardly, signaled a stop, and stood up. Weird are not, Klein was fun to be around, and a mental vacation compared to my own family.

Klein:

I tried my best not to notice how tight my arm sleeves on my dress shirt were as I read through Gearschilde craft-book on common legends and stories of the early days of their calamity.

The heavy book had pages made of brass and steel, small levers, dials and switches helped animate the illustration while also teaching the basics of mechanics, electronics and materials science through rhyme and illustration. Skills necessary personally and communally needed to simply survive on their hellscape of a home world.

I handled it gingerly. I hadn’t understood when Cee gave it to me why they were called “craft-books”, nor why a priest had so many of them. A bit of research on the data net had explained that a craft book was an heirloom object of the family, made by a crafting-priest with the removed augments and implants of a deceased Gearschilde. A priest such as Cee handled such sacred objects when the family may no longer need them.

Apparently Forges Metal In Service Of Life was Exceptionally doting on her grandchildren, and the introduction she wrote for her own recycled corpse told of a woman who had literally given everything to her children so they may have a better future.

It was wholesome, but still I couldn’t help feeling a little creepy that I was technically playing with a dead body, or at least what had been vital prosthetics within it.

My thoughts were so wrapped up in the book though that I only caught the last few notes of the front doorbell melody by the time the sound drew my attention. Reqellia was already out of her chair looking at me expectantly in the study. I (carefully) closed the craft-book, got up and followed her out into the courtyard. A bit of nervous and excited energy in each step.

Itaro was here!

‘You are acting like a middle schooler on his first date’ Squirrel brain chastised me.

f*ck you too squirrel brain, it’s not like I had a wholesome date before that I could bring to a parent. I thought back, bringing up the mental image of Kelly, my last “girlfriend” that lasted two weeks, and was expelled for drinking in school.

I shook the old memories away. Bringing myself back to the present as Itraro opened the courtyard main doors. Dressed in tight, tailored, black ‘hunting pants’ with a thin silver stripe down the out seam and a deep navy-blue cooling vest with more silvery accents. I could see actual boning on the vest meant for body support. Itaro had gone for the Rakiri “functional formal” dress that was meant for parades and hunting parties. She carried a flat gift box that was semi-expensive and had clearly come to take this date seriously.

I stood up straighter in my Shil formalwear that was ready to burst at the seams. Reqellia moved between me and Itaro, performing the Shil’vati ritual of inspecting a potential suitor for their son on their first date. Again, yesterday Reqellia calling me her “son” felt fake, I was not her son, but I played along. She was at least one of my guardians right now.

There was a lackadaisy air to Reqellia’s words as she spoke. “You are interested in Klein, and want to go for a walk with him?”

Itaro still had a bit of nervousness in her voice, but she spoke steadily. “Yes, ma’am.”

Reqellia stayed silent and stared at Itaro for just a heartbeat, then broke into a wide grin, throwing up her hands. “Jrafell’s (goddess of joy’s) fire! You two get out of here, and don’t message me till {sunset}!”

Reqellia shooed us out the front door, and as it closed behind us, Itaro held the package out towards me. “So, uh, I wanted to give this to you after the raid game. It’s a cooling vest since I notice you're starting to sweat even in the mornings now.”

I took the box slowly, trying to parse what she said. It was warm, but I was sweating all the time? I touched my forehead, and yes, I felt a slight dampness. How had I not noticed that?

I looked down at the layers of wicking fabric I was wearing. The high collar, the arm length sleeves. I was normally clothed neck down so that only my head and hands were exposed. The sweat wasn’t visible, and I had just mentally blocked it out. Shil cloth didn’t get stiff with sweat salt somehow.

I opened the lid. The vest was colored in a dark blue with the heat sinking accents in gold creeping vine motifs. “It’s… gorgeous.”

Itaro’s ears flicked back in self-aware embarrassment at the complement. “It’s not too outdated?”

I closed the lid with a dramatic snap as we started to walk towards the bus stop. “No, I think it’s styled for exactly the right time.”

The bus took us to a different part of town. Instead of the monolithic metallic blocks of shopping, living, and factory complexes, it was more akin to squares of walled-in outdoor malls with rows upon rows of car width sized streets and two-story shop or factory houses.

The outer walls of the area were the same style as any other Shil’vati building; however, inside those walls completely threw off any Shil sensibilities, and reveled in the multi-species culture so indicative of Sky that had become my favorite part of living here.

I always felt like a tourist walking through the compound gates. It was still hard, trying to understand what all the stores, meeting houses, clubs, and drink vendors offered. I was really hoping when I could walk alone to come here on my off days and just learn.

It was by far one of the most comfortable places I had been. I wasn’t given a second glance as scales, fur and even odder skins walked the streets. The scents changed from pungent and earthy to downright floral. The late morning was bustling with crowds also wanting to enjoy their off days of the Shel mid-week break. Colorful awnings had been stretched out to provide shade, and here some of the signs even had multi-language signs as opposed to the normal Trade Shil lexicon. The small gardens ranged from normal green hues, to cartoon colorful oranges, reds, and even bright blues and shiny blacks

I led the way to a cluster of shops owned by Tulo’s family. The architecture was Shil-ish. The patterns were of typical stars and seas done in metal, but instead of the traditional purples, blacks, and golds, it had textured matte finish and pastel colors. The sign above this particular hole-in-the-wall was labeled simple “Ki’tra’s Styling”

We walked in the open door, and again I was transported to a Shil’vati style not fashionable in at least two centuries. Brass instead of gold, marble and granite where thermocast metal should normally be placed. It was bright, shadowless, with a similar setup of padded chairs every barbershop that every species seemed to have in common.

“Be with you one second!” Tulo called out as he finished with a different customer. A Sharpfish gang member getting their hair done in a complex set of braids that I knew had a tradition of long-ago sea raiders. Thank you, Death Islands serial drama play, for giving me that tidbit of info.

Tulo was dressed flamboyantly straight for Shil’vati culture. He carried tools on a lacy belt rig. The pants and shirt were Shil cut, but again, the normally muted tones were swapped for bright swatches of color. A workaholic in terms of Shil’vati lifestyle and at the upper end of his species’ stamina. Pulling forty hours or even more a week, he never lost his marine’s purposeful gait despite the turn towards more gender conforming attitude and fashion.

I had a suspicion that Tulo and Ruhal were more than friends, but I didn’t pry. A few books and shows had hinted at such relationships, but there was a weird feeling when I checked the data-net that something was missing.

Tulo finished with the Sharpfish, as she strode out the room, she gave me a wink, and I could feel Itaro raise her hackles next to me. The tension was broken with Tulo throwing his arms wide in greeting. “K’ien! Thank you for giving us your time (and money) today! Ruhal sent over your wants, and I have been looking forward to this appointment, and who is this with you today?”

I looked at Itaro for permission, and with a barely perceptible nod I introduced her. “This is Itaro, my girlfriend.”

Tulo faked surprise dramatically. I knew Ruhal would have told him by now. “Oh, Itaro! I must say. You have found quite the catch, would you also like a trim? On the house!”

I knew Tulo would send a small fee to Ruhal for Itaro, but Itaro didn’t need to know that. She nodded again, but with her ears twitching, she said in a smaller than usual voice with intonation posing it as a question. “I would?”

Tulo turned around and yelled. “Reku! I have a K’ien’s girlfriend here wanting a trim and polish! You want practice?”

Reku walked out onto the shop floor from the back rooms holstering his omni pad while looking severe, but then again, he always looked severe. Reku was dressed in crisp clothes with muted blacks and purples more akin to a boardroom than a barbershop.

Tulo had let slip it was Reku’s way of “rebelling” from his father’s own counterculture style while helping Ruhal replace a faulty home heating unit.Tulo, to his credit, encouraged Reku’s “rebellious” behavior, and the quiet smile when he saw Itaro meant the next hour would be a production for both me and Itaro.

As I heard the snip of scissors, my head felt lighter by the second. It took a good quarter hour of combing for Tulo to get my bird’s nest hair unknotted, then the clipping started. It didn’t take long before the floor around me was covered in hair with faded shades of dye still clinging onto the strands.

I looked over at Reku snipping at Itaro’s mane to even it out and fur to sit flush with her clothes, with acute precision. While son and father had wildly different styles, their skillset was comparably solid.

“Head forward please.” Tulo’s voice was now business-like as he powered on the nearly silent trimmer, and in the mirror was a face that wasn’t recognizable to the boy a few months ago. The hair being the last vestige of a “Beach Bum” front I had worn while working at the convenience store.

The sides had been buzzed, and the top had been quaffed and rolled into a haircut I could only describe as “punk Elvis”. The haircut would be easy to maintain daily, but would require weekly trims.

“And now for the final touch.” Tulo smiled as he pulled out a hair dyeing comb and artfully brushed in a fade. My hair looked now like a field of grass just starting to turn in autumn with dark green tips shading lighter and blending into my naturally blonde hair.

It was just hair, but the loss of its weight on my head made me feel energetic. I wanted to stand, walk, run, but I kept seated as Tulo called out “Reku, I’m done with K’ien, ready to switch?”

“Almost” Reku replied flatly. I turned to see what he was doing and, oh… He had applied a dark bronze powder that gave her normally dull black spotted gray fur a speckled sheen that subtly reflected and scattered the light.

I stared a bit too long, and when Itaro saw me she looked away self-consciously. I did the same. It wasn’t right for me to stare, dating or no.

“Reku will be with you shortly. I need to take care of another customer,” Tulo said as he walked away. I still snuck glances at Itaro as I drummed my fingers to the rhythms of Ki’zachi, Chopin and got through the opening riffs of a Megadeth song before Reku started to work on me.

My face cleaned up and my nails polished and lacquered. I finally got up from my chair with Itaro openly staring at me. I blushed, feeling the heat on my cheeks, and looked away.

Well maybe staring wasn’t so bad.

“Now, my wife and daughter are two stores down with the clothes you picked out. The commissions take time, but we have rapid fabricators that will give you a feel how the real thing will wear, and if any adjustments need to be made,” Tulo explained to me as both me and Itaro tried not to gawk at each other.

We headed out of the shop clumsily, weaving slightly as we tried to decide where the line of personal space between us was considered proper.

Itaro:

“They are adorably awkward together aren’t they?” I heard Tulo whisper when he thought I was out of earshot. Dirtmothers this was embarrassing. Was my only thought as we walked down the road. All too aware of how we both looked.

Tulo’s wife Ma’tari was already putting clothes on the counter, her teenage daughter was at that weird phase of Shil life where they are skinny to the point of looking underfed with a name tag that read ‘Iss’fera.’

“Here you go K’ien! How have you…. What happened to you? I just tailored that shirt two months ago,” Iss’fera asked as her mother Ma’tari sternly looked at her.

“He built up some muscle, and you should too if you want to catch any boy’s eye!” using a bit of guilt to chastise her daughter for her faux paus. I wanted to defend her since she was working Shel break, but I didn’t want to get in another’s family drama.

“Oh! Uh, here you go!” she mumbled while handing Klein his clothes, blushing furiously.

I paced in the lobby of the shop each time passing the mirror trying not to stop and inspect myself. The coppery tint reminded me of action stars and dramatized play fights when we visited Iron Mountain city.

I thought of Klein, and how he looked. He might not be a heavyweight door guard, but he wasn’t some bone thin Shil boy, and Hario had explicitly approved of him. I held my head a bit higher. Reminding myself I was disappointing no one with my choice. No matter how xenophobic some of my extended family was.

The door to the changing room clicked open, and I turned to see Klein in a mix of profoundly familiar and utterly alien clothes. My father’s cooling vest over a loose white shirt with… belts? On the forearms, making it close fitting at the wrist with the excess fabric over the bicep. The black pants were Shil tight, but with weirdly patterned knees that could stretch, and the pleated skirt of heavy fabric that covered the crotch and thighs looked to be directly imported from the Dirt governess’s honor guard. The only thing still standard was the shoes, and I had doubts they would stay standard for long.

“It fits you,” was all I could say, and it was true. The clothes complemented a figure that was neither Shil, Senthe or Helkam slim, nor Rakiri heavy. It was clothes meant for a human.

Klein’s lopsided smile told me this wasn’t the same Klein that walked into the changing room. It was the smile worn right before a Raid game or an obstacle course, or when bantering with Paluto. It meant his persona switched from quiet to theatrical.

At least this meant he’d be talking more. It wasn’t like him to be this quiet. “Thank you Ma’tari, Iss’fera, for the wonderfully crafted clothes. I look forward to the real thing!” Klein said as he walked up to me and offered his arm. This was the Klein that had kissed me, and now I could relax as there was a role for both of us to play, with easy to follow baked-in social conventions.

I took Klein’s offered arm confidently and we walked out together as I asked. “Where to now?”

“Somewhere to talk, ever tried Nighkru Tea?” Klein stage whispered cryptically.

Chapter 21: Chapter 21

Chapter Text

Chapter 21:

Ruhal:

Siltan lay on her stomach while I played with her back as she enjoyed a cup of spiced grail brandy enjoying the companionable silence.
“Ruhal, what’s on your mind?” she asked me with a purr in her voice.
“Wondering on retirement. We probably will have grandchildren soon, maybe it’s time to hold onto what I have instead of chasing this double life,” I mused aloud.
Siltan took a sip of her drink, propped herself on her elbows and looked at me dead in the eye. “Oh, what would you do with your time Ruhal? You love the Navy… your work, I’ve never seen you wanting anything besides a military life.”
I stopped touching Siltan and picked up my own drink with both hands. “That’s the problem. This life I have here, at home, this is the fake one. I’m no house husband, and I wasn’t much of a father to my own children when they grew up. Maybe it would be easier if I visited my daughters, even Re’la and Jasit outsystem and played the mentor now that they are all older.”
Siltan considered the proposal. “With the business it would be easy to get you there as spare crew, but why now? It has to do with Klein, doesn’t it?”
I nodded. “Not his presence, but his future status.”
Siltan co*cked her head in question before her eyes went wide and she burst out laughing rolling on her back as she covered her eyes. “I knew it! You’d be dead before you would ever give this house to my spineless coward of a nephew.”
I shrugged. “He’s a puppet of his mother, and he would turn this home into another sterile, home-world imported monstrosity.”
Siltan sat up and grabbed her drink, the messy sheets pooled around her waist. “You’d work till you're dead to spite my sister for me? Oh! I knew there was a reason I married you.”
“I thought you wanted me to stop your mother from finding out about Telia?” I mock-queried before taking another sip of my drink.
Siltan pointed at me. “And the ‘fun’, and children, oh! Let's not forget the first time we all covered for each other dating.”
I sputtered, nearly choked on my drink while laughing. Remembering the awkward conversations as we four all sat in the Open Secret cabaret in Thunderhead, Sky’s capital city, worried if one Siltan’s, Telia’s or Tulo’s family members hired a private investigator to tail us.
Only to find out the next day my father had used his connections to discover who was hired and knocked them out with nightfel before we ever left his house.
I wiped my face from my near accident with my drink and raised my glass “To awkward love!”
Siltan raised her own drink. “To the best father-in-law a wife could have! But speaking of awkward love, how do you think Klein and Itaro are doing?”
I lowered my drink and looked up at the angled skylights, considered repugnant to the {sleek brutalist} Shil’vati architecture, giving my honest opinion, but still went for my omni-pad to check if any emergency messages came through. “I bet Klein is leading the date with that weird ‘winds take me anywhere’ attitude he has while Itaro fumbles on what to do; however, I think they will have their own courtship ‘dance’ down by the third date.
“You think Itaro is going to go by the Shil third date conversation? I should start prepping then, never thought I’d be having that talk, much less so soon.” Siltan said as she quirked her eyebrow.
I opened my omni-pad and booted up the screen, before I could reply with banter of my own, I saw a message from Ka’tel, the Hydrean ICAD agent, and started to read. I had only sent her approval to read over the ‘Klein reports’ a few hours ago, and not only had she read them, but she had also taken upon herself to approve the combat training armor that had been making it’s way up my own intelligence command back on Shel.
She had used a ‘medical requirement’ rule within ICAD jurisdiction to justify the approval.
There was a note attached which read.
‘If he’s going to survive he will need all the fangs and thorns you can give him.’
“Ruhal, is everything alright? Do we need to call a pickup?” Siltan said as she touched my arm, bringing me back to the present. The worried look on her face reminded me of every time she had to put down rumors about her ‘run-away husband’.
“No! It’s good news. The ICAD agent approved my request. I didn’t know they could even do that. Which by the way, thank you.” I responded, changing the subject. I wanted her to have fun, not worry about family right now.
“For what?” Siltan asked.
“For giving Reqellia an excuse to leave for the weekend. She normally goes out into the wilderness at least once a month when I’m home. She hasn’t left the city since I got back.” I said while I started to massage Siltan’s legs, humming happily to myself while she groaned a bit as she laid down on her stomach again.
“It’s… nothing, I know she’s been my Kho’ {cowife} since our kids were little, but she still has trouble telling us what she needs.” Siltan said, her voice catching as I loosened a muscle that had become knotted with age and stress that was unheard of in her youthful days.
“Ruhal, it’s barely been an hour. You can’t have recovered since then. Stop teasing me,” Siltan mock-protested as my hands traveled up her legs.
“Who said anything about teasing? I have hands,” I whispered, massaging higher.
Siltan’s toes curled in anticipation.

Klein:

Months ago, when I walked down with Ruhal to the Nighkru Tea cave I was still existing in freefall, nothing made sense, and the world was a mass of unintelligible colors and customs and creatures.
Ruhal was wearing a thin jacket over his military uniform that afternoon against all common sense in the heat of the day as he carried a case with the crowns board pieces rattling around inside. We took a twisting path through grid streets of the town until we reached a staircase going underneath a small warehouse for spices.
There was a glow on the ceiling, and I hesitated for a few seconds as Ruhal descended a few steps before looking back at me, waiting patiently. My feet carried me down the steps as I held onto the railing for balance, looking up at the patterns of soft light above done in abstract art.
The temperature dropped precipitously with each step. I shivered for a second as the shock of cooler temperature air hit me. Ruhal was explaining the Tea cave and how you ordered. I, like so many times before, absorbed what I could in my already overloaded brain.
At the bottom of the stairs, It opened up into a school gymnasium sized room with what looked to be a large outdoor stand at the center. The tables spaced far apart with booths along the sides dug into the ground like cubby holes. Walking towards us was the first Nighkru I met up close. His dark skin acting as contrasting canvas for a swirl of bioluminescent “tattoos” made of living algae similar to the ceiling art. The eyes as white as his polished teeth gave him a creepy vibe that had nothing to do with his familiar way of speaking.
“Roohaul, it’s wonderful to see you again! I see you brought your charge today! I am Qinsari. How are you Klein?” The Nighkru spoke with a rolling, almost calypso lilt to his voice that was nearly discordant with the guttural high Shil.
“Ummm, I am well,” I said, surprised, he knew who I was.
“Excellent! Roohaul, if you could.” Qinsari gestured to make his leave, and Ruhal took us to a booth where he opened the Tak case.
“How did he-,” I started, but Ruhal cut me off with smirk and quiet remark.
“Never assume he won’t overhear, or find out,” Ruhal said as he put down the last Tak piece. “Before we begin, Look over at Qinsari, notice how his eyebrows move? You can gauge where he’s looking, helps with the creepiness factor. Like right now he’s focusing on the kettle.”
Today, My skirt rustled as I walked, there was a wonderful chill in my chest, I could take long unimpeded steps, and my head was light and free. I felt all-together unencumbered both physically and socially. I hung on to Itaro’s arm like the smitten schoolboy I was as I led her to my favorite tea shop.
“Down here!” I said, gesturing at the stairs leading to a underground area off the sidewalk. Itaro didn’t budge, looking apprehensive, she probably never frequented here, and from her point of view it probably looked like a dungeon.
“Itaro, it’s a Nighkru Tea Cave, it’s going to be underground, but it’s above board and friendly, please.” I insisted. Itaro drew herself up a bit and I let her descend first.
The cooling vest clicked off halfway down. I loved the entrance’s mysterious otherworldly vibe.
The cooling vest clicked off halfway down. I loved the entrance’s mysterious otherworldly vibe.
‘You already live on another world, of course it’s otherworldly,’ Squirrel brain chimed in my head, but I ignored its intrusiveness.

“Can I get you anything else officer?” Qinsari asked as he glanced at us. It took several visits, but by the fourth trip with Ruhal I could reliably know his eye movements and what he was focused on.
“Not right now, but later we might come to an arrangement,” The Interior officer flirted.
Qinsari responded in kind, and moved towards us. “Only the best for you ma’am, but excuse me, I have to greet another regular.”
I could feel Itaro’s grip tighten on my own arm, but I patted her hand and whispered, “I will explain later.”
Itaro relaxed her hold as the Nighkru walked toward us with a dancer’s grace and bowed. “Klein! It’s always a pleasure to see you here, and is this who I presume?”
“Well then, please find a seat and I will be right with you,” Qinsari said as he moved to start a new batch of hot water.
The booth was spacious and I moved the table slightly towards me so I didn’t have to bend forward to reach for a drink. Itaro looked at me suspiciously. “So, what’s with him?”
I made the military/civilian hand signal for silence that I had learned in my first weeks in the auxiliary. I looked over at Qinsari, who was still chatting with the interior agent. I knew he was looking at us even if I couldn’t see the pupils behind the natural light filter Nighkru life had evolved in the millions of years since their prehistoric ancestors left their homeworld caves. “It’s complicated. Outside.”
Itaro settled back and quietly gave me an appraising look before Quinsari brought a kettle and cups. “Something for the both of you. It won’t be your usual Klein, as Rakiri have some issue with myca’reshi root.”
I thanked him and poured Itaro a cup first, then myself. Letting it cool for a moment while the script that got us here ran out. Once the silence dragged on more than I was comfortable with, I spoke up, curious. “So, why did you find me so attractive?”
Itaro almost dropped the cup before she remembered what was in her hands, and set it down. “Because you.. are… you? No, that doesn’t say anything.”
Itaro breathed in and started what I could tell was a semi-rehearsed spiel by the even rhythm of her words. “You are not a Rakiri boy. A Rakiri boy would have wanted to meet at my house and talk to everyone for a first date. Some boys even get critical about their girlfriend’s family child rearing. You might already know my aunt, and met my siblings, but you haven’t asked after anyone. You’re happy to let things develop.”
Squirrel brain pulled up the documentary segments that were linked to episodes of the pre-industrial Rakiri drama Iron Blooded Mountains. A clip of Shil and Rakiri scholars talking dryly about social conventions with single snipped shots of the show in the background.
The memory of the old female professor sharing her opinions played through my head for a second blotting out the real world:
At this time period of Rakiri society, the exemplar of good men were rough and tumble homemakers. Willing to puree food, or enemies, for the good of their children.
They were big, with layers of fat and muscle to keep their mates warm, and have the strength to build the foundations of a home. Towards the end of the pre-contact era of the Rakiri industrial age, the muscle was replaced by wealth and mental strength for the nobles. Having well-paid and loyal guards was a sign of a man’s toughness in the upper strata of this civilization. Fat became the symbol of a male’s ability and virility.
Recently there has been a revival of this pre-industrial, more physically fit ideal as Shil’vati body image ideal has become commonplace to see on Dirt (Rakiri home world). I see that the thinner, well-trimmed, contemporary Rakiri have gotten back into workouts and bodybuilding, the cost of being able to keep that muscle supplied with expensive animal protein has become the new sign of rising status.
We see those pre-industrial values today in a number of other ways as well. Rakiri colonies are often on more rural planets with traditional architecture. Rakiri dating revolves around in-home parties and community festivals that focus on packs meeting one another. The common imagery of Rakiri male models I see on data-nets feature them engaging in cooking, building, farming, or other industrial housework that show a deference to family and their ability to care. Even the overwhelming percent of door guards in Raid games being male is another example of the traditional gender roles still playing a large part in Rakiri society.
Back in the real world, Itaro was growing increasingly concerned about why I was looking at her blank-faced. I shook my head. “Sorry, I was remembering something. So, you wanted someone more…Shil?”
Itaro did that head tilt when she was weighing options and her cat-like ears wobbled slightly in a way that I found utterly adorable. “No? Goddess and Dirtmothers, as much as I loved watching you preen this morning, I know full well you will be perfectly willing to dive headfirst into mud at the gym. You want to go and see the town instead of family gatherings, but if my pack calls and I need to go home?”
I didn’t even think about my response. It was just what I would do. “I’d go with you, and call Reqellia so she can escort me home if I wasn’t needed to help.”
Itaro tapped her claw on the table to emphasize. “Exactly. I was the only child while my mother earned money out-system so my father Bahtete could buy the land and supplies to build our house from the ground up. The Kho’ {cowives} and siblings might have come soon after Bahtet finished, but as eldest, I have pack responsibilities I can’t give up, and wouldn’t be able to focus on a boyfriend’s.”
“You,” Itaro said as she pointed at me, “want to talk to just me, and are willing to give me space, and that’s wonderful.”
Itaro’s genuine look of adoration made me feel warm and cozy, and then she realized her whole, unfiltered rant had come out. She hid her abashed face behind her cup of tea as she drank slowly to stall for time, when she set it down, she turned my own question back on me. “So, what about you? What did you find attractive about me?”
I toyed with my teacup for a few seconds before responding. I felt a little guilty about going for heavy hitting topics so quickly, but I wanted to know where we starting at. “You broke up with Giton because he criticized your sister for wanting to be a tailor. You didn’t hit on me, we just talk. I’m not a boy first to you, I’m a person, a person with quirks.”
Itaro didn’t even flinch when I admitted I knew about her and Giton, if anything, she was proud of it, but she snorted in laughter at the mention of quirks. “Klein, your quirks are merely character to me. When my brother Talito got into fishing I had to go out with him every morning before sunrise to cast nets.-”
The ice had been broken, and despite an added romantic layer on our friendship, we still talked like before, jumping from topic to topic with ease. Two pots of tea at the café later we headed out of the cozy cave and back into the sunlight.

Reqellia:

Hunting
I moved through the streets like a ghost. Walking with the crowd as I watched my current target, an older Senthe woman slithering slowly through the streets. I reached out with my wireless neural interface and felt my connection to the datanet. Using all three of my micro crypto modules to generate a false key to get in the Interior’s surveillance storage systems and wipe myself out of the recordings.
The woman turned down an alleyway between two older buildings looking behind her to see if anyone was tailing her. I walked past the alley opening. Instead hacked an old audio bug long since forgotten by the Interior to get a rough position and where she was headed.
I silently climbed up a wall near an unoccupied loading dock, sprinting through the jungle of different architectures towards my target’s rendezvous point. My cloak matched the colors that surrounded me as I sped over rooftops, so that a haphazard glance may only get a too-late double take, and a vague feeling of lost sanity.
I reached the roof of the building my target was in. The smell of Soothsayer’s smoke wafted up from the open window and I heard the shopkeeper shout, “No! she didn’t! She ran off with him?”
I heard the cackling laughter of my target. “Oh yes! Went to one of the desert colonies near the border with just a touch of help from yours truly. Can’t see my granddaughter getting dragged into a matriarch’s pit just because of the man she loves.”
I felt a warm respect for Hi’ssara ta Jikori as she told another story of her escapades. The woman had just a handful of years left after a long journey in life, but she was still making the most of them.
With gossip as my reward. I looked for my next target. A Shil’vati whose mixed-species marriage made him flee Wilist as a pariah. He had started going to a Rakiri bake shop to learn how to make Pippyas for his daughter. The exhaustion on his face was evident, Rakiri pups were little balls of hyperactive fur. I made a note in my brain computer to send an advertisem*nt his way for free playground days at Hario’s gym.
I then pursued an art studio where a Hydrean had turned cuttings from their own body into wood carvings. A freakishly weird craft that seemed grotesque, but the Hydrean never seemed uncomfortable when taking a saw to a newly regrown arm. Singing a common pop song among the buzz of metal going through bark and muscle while finding my next target.
I listened to an old, drunk Triki veteran with glitching prosthetics mumbling her war stories at a drug den while she sold her venom to peddlers. I again left a stack of Triki’s favorite Is’ta snack chips wrapped in a cloth with a pamphlet for therapy at her imperial subsidized apartment. I doubt she’d take the help, but it was worth a try.
I watched and listened to the harsh and happy stories of people. Thinking up surreptitious nudges I might be able to give. A dropped bit of gold here, an old omni-pad there, a conversation with a stranger. Glitches in the Interior’s records of anti-imperial behavior.
I used my mods for surveillance and stealth to help rather than kill. I could never stop being what I had been turned into, but I could give it a new purpose.
I picked up Itaro and Klein on one of my hacked surveillance cameras, and strode the other way. Careful to keep distance, but not so far I wasn’t close by when Klein called.

Itaro:

As we walked around the tiny city, we quickly sped through updates from both our families, the gossip surrounding Klein’s Auxiliary commandant, and her possibility of retirement. I circled back to the subject of Qinsari and the Interior agent at the tea shop as we walked through the surplus community garden.
“Oh! He lets her listen to him sing after closing in exchange for approving his ingredients imports. Her colleagues think they are sleeping together, which may or may not be the case, but that’s not the bribe.”
“He’s a cave singer!?” I whispered, shocked that a Nighkru like him ever got out of his education debts.
Klein nodded his head as we neared the central plaza and whispered back loudly “Don’t say anything. There are those that would smuggle him out for the bounty on his head.”
Next to the plaza’s fountain were several food stalls, a young Arttamine was selling street food while creating a rhythm with her hooves. Her multibranched horns were decorated in transparent colored plastic that had once been food containers, now cut to resemble gems that practically glowed in the sunlight. Her cheerful and exuberant demeanor while she took our orders was unlike most of her skittish kind.
Klein tried to offer to at least pay for his half of lunch, but I declined, even if it meant asking dipping into my allowance savings money. The textured protein and fried doughball was excellent, even if lacking in meat, but just as I finished my food, there were two more paper plates with a second helping and even grilled le’ta fish.
I looked over at Klein as he chewed through a second sandwich, needing to breathe after he finished before he could talk. “I used hand signals to ask for a favor when you weren’t looking. I know, is a corporal in the Youth’s Auxiliary so she was pleased that I had already learned how to use them. She even got fish for you from the Helkam stand. Call it a pop quiz treat for the both of us. ”

In the end we threw rocks over a lake at the outskirts of town that was only just starting to be divided up into land for civilization. Day was starting to wane as the bugs skimming the water began to glow fleeing from the ripples. I decided to ask something that was bugging me. “Klein, why did you leave?”
Klein tossed another stone. “Left where?”
I sat down, my tail lashing a bit in frustration. “Never mind, it’s not important.”
“You mean Earth don’t you?” Klein stiffened, and I could tell this was a sharply painful subject.
I tried to backpedal the conversation. “It’s a dumb thing to ask. I know it wasn’t great for you there…” I trailed off.
“No, it’s fine. I don’t think the specifics matter, and I haven’t really figured out how to put my situation into words that make sense. You have what matters right though, it was bad for me, and I left because of that.” Klein sat next to me and offered his hand.
I took it and started to let myself talk without my filter, letting my thoughts just come out, gesturing wildly with my free hand. “You just seem fine with all this. You didn’t know Rakiri, or Shil or any off world species existed a few months ago. Now, you just accept us dating as normal. I worry that something is going to push you over the edge.”
Klein smiled and leaned against me before he spoke. He’s touching me! He’s touching me! ……
“That me died the day I left Earth. The moment I left my job. I was living on borrowed time already, and now I’m this me, so no you aren’t going to push me over the edge. I already fell, and you’re helping me pick myself up,” He spoke, turning his head to look at me.
I leaned in, and I kissed my crazy, accepting boyfriend, before standing up and offering him a hand. “Back to town?”
It didn’t take long after Klein messaged Reqellia for her to show up silently behind us. “Hello you two! Had fun, just not too much, right?”
We replied a little too quickly.
“Yes!”
“No!”
“Umm.”
Reqellia gave us a full belly laugh and clapped me on the shoulder. “I know you aren’t improper. Klein, let’s head to the Gearschilde Community center, but I will walk slowly that way and give you two a bit of privacy.”
Once Reqellia’s back was turned, Klein grabbed my vest’s collar and pulled me in for a quick peck on the cheek. “I had a lot of fun; I will see you in the gym. Message me when you can.”
He then ran off. I noticed a weight on my vest where he held it. There was a memory clip with a note scrawled on a clean food wrapper. You weren’t the only one with a ‘friendly gift’ you wanted to give since before the raid incident, the tabs for your Ra’tan are included.
I pulled the clip and inserted it into my omni-pad. The clip contained original and computer translated versions of Earth language songs. I played the first song. A guitar heavy ballad ‘Rime of the Ancient Mariner’. I mimed the hand positions, playing the imaginary instrument that I only picked up the real thing maybe once a week these days.
I messaged Au’tes halfway home. It went really well. I think it’s all going to be ok.

Before I hit the send command. I prayed to the Halrasthra, dirtmother of paths, and Drepna, goddess of navigation, to not twist my fate for their amusem*nt.

Chapter 22: Chapter 22

Chapter Text

Klein:

The shadows grew longer while I looked out longingly at the passing city as I sat on the bus with Reqellia. There was still so much I wanted to do here. I studied every building, person, and vehicle, trying to commit every tantalizing opportunity to memory as they passed the window.

I closed my eyes as I was momentarily blinded by the shimmer of a mirror reflecting the setting [sunlight] atop a Shil temple looked millennia out of current building codes. My vision cleared a instant later. The light blotted by a looming warehouse, the brilliant gold light replaced with the cold glint of a silver mirror surrounded by a star speckled field of black.

At the top of the entrance was an old Shil’vati, wrapped up mummy-like in a metal flecked black cloth holding an ancient flame taper to ignite the beacon inside a model lighthouse that stood at the bottom of the building’s stairs. The short stature and flat chest designated the priest as male. The whole setup looked so familiar, but what was it doing off a drama set?

He looked up straight at me, and smiled as if he could see right past the tinted windows. I felt a prickle on the back of my neck. I looked up at Reqellia and quietly asked, “what’s the temple with the mirror?”

Reqellia’s sour expression told me she spoke from ugly experience. “The order of Niosa, goddess of sea and space. Thought you would recognize it with all your cultural studies.”

I had, in a way. I could at least recognize the separate parts. Various supernatural and historical Shil dramas I watched had featured the priest’s clothing, the temple, and even the setting of the lighthouse, but I hadn’t put those together with the real-world religious iconography. “Not all of it.”

Reqellia turned her eyes down to look at me, punctuating her warning. “Be careful of the Shil’vati religious orders, especially Niosa’s, they have a bad habit of mistaking mysticism with reality.”

I nodded, but something about the scene still niggled at the back of my mind.

-----------------------

The streetlights were just coming on as we departed the bus in front of the Gearschilde community center. The building was surprisingly Shil stock standard, with the exception of the massive iron double doors inlaid with scenes depicting farms, industry, and community. They swung effortlessly in when I turned the long handle. Inside was a large arched hallway with a second set of double doors at the end. The shadowless warm lighting and earth tone walls made it cheery without the sterility found in most lobbies.

“Why a hallway for the entrance?” I wondered aloud.

A Gearschilde in simple workwear approached us with cybernetic eyes, skin inked with conductive tattoos acting as signal wires over her face that creeped down below her neckline. “It’s meant to resemble our old decontamination hallways. Welcome to my home, I am Provides Safety and Food. Reqellia! Should I have a night watch, or are you staying this time?”

“Night watch this time please, Provides. I need a bit of time to myself,” Reqellia said. I stopped taking in my surroundings to look curiously at Reqellia, then to Provides, what was the history here?

“Ah! No trouble, and who is this joining us tonight? Your rumored human son?” Provides asked ruefully, cybernetic eyes glinting.

Reqellia responded, and I realized it was the first time I heard any mirth in her voice since she picked me up today. “Yes, this is Klein, so don’t give him something I couldn’t handle!”

Provides Safety and Food made a mock bow, and replied with her own joke. “Of course, if only because I lack the imagination to come up with a task impossible for you.”

Reqellia momentarily smiled at the comment, her expression fell as she turned and knelt looking me in the eye. “Hey, are you still going to be ok without me here tonight?”

I co*cked my head in a question, even though I felt just a tad apprehensive, I did my best not to show it. I was nearly an adult; I had been an adult. “I was living on my own for months, and Cee’s going to be here tonight?”

Why was this still hard?

“Yes, Cee will be here, and I will be back in the morning, but contact Ruhal or Siltan if you need anything,” Reqellia said as she stood up and walked out the door. I caught a look of guilt that transformed into something much sharper as she left.

Provides was already approaching me before I had a chance to think on the parting.

“Well Klein, we have plenty to get done before tonight. How are your cooking skills?” Provides asked. The thought of cooking made my fingers itch. Sitting and talking was all fun and good, but I hadn’t done anything all day, and it was making me antsy. I needed to be productive somehow.

I replied quickly, “I can cook! Lead the way!”

--------------------------------

The passage to the kitchen went through a small indoor plaza with a pollinating flower garden in the center. Provides opened another door and we walked through a pantry of neatly arranged shelves stacked high with foodstuffs. The smell of caramelizing vegetables came through an open door. On the other side was an industrial sized kitchen, and in the center, cleaning L’out root, was the strangest Helkam man I had ever seen.

The male had the gray skin and small scales on his upper arms that was indicative of his species, but the forearms were made of pearly white and fire-engine red painted material that was clearly synthetic. A soft blue glow emanated from a grated area around the wrist area.

“Provides, did you bring me an assistant? What’s your name?” The Helkam asked me, his ears flaring out by a few degrees in mild un-controlled surprise, probably at me being Human, revealing a series of Nighkru-like glowing tattoos on the webbing.

“Klein, a wonder to meet you [Mr.]…?” I used the common informal Gearschilde greeting, trailing my sentence into a question, offering a fist in the standard Shil style.

“Tinkers With Curiosity, may wonders never cease. Let me get you an apron!” Tinker said, tapping my fist with his own. The hard metal was cold to the touch. He also referred to himself with a Gearschilde name, not Helkam.

Provides gave a quick goodbye as she went about whatever task needed to be taken care of before tonight, whatever tonight was about. Tinker immediately put me to work cleaning raw ingredients and laying them out for baking, broiling, and rotisserie. Twenty-gallon pots of soup were being automatically stirred as I worked the auto-chopper and food processor.

Me and Tinker talked the entire time as we worked together. I found out that Tinker was the husband in a six-person marriage of “Xenochilde;” three Rakiri and three Helkam, including himself, who for one reason or another lived as Gearschilde, subscribing to their teachings. I took note it wasn’t an exclusive way of life though; Tinker still wore a pendant depicting the Helkam goddess of wanderings.

I found Tinker's path to being Xenoschilde started when he had lost both arms to frostbite on an ill-advised climbing trip on his home planet [Titan’s cloud] when he was around my age. The replacement arms with Imperium-provided free care were slow, clunky, and underpowered. Useless for anything other than basic housework.

Unable to afford higher tier prosthetics, much less custom regrown limbs unless he joined the military, Tinker went to the Gearschilde clinic the same day he left the Shil hospital hoping to score something cheap. Instead of having to go into debt to buy fully functional prosthetic arms, he was offered to learn how to remake his own for what amounted to errands so the craft-priest could spend time teaching. After a few weeks spending his days at the crafter’s house instead of looking for whatever low-pay work he could find to fund his own replacements, Tinker left his Imperium provided housing for the Gearschilde community centers, system hopping for years before settling down here.

Tinker shifted the story back to me after going on the rundown of his life while loading the oven full of soon to be baked goods for the third time tonight. “So, you had a date today with a Rakiri? How’d it go, and who are her packmates?”

I had watched plenty of Rakiri dramas, and something brought up, even for a first date, especially for the first date, was that Rakiri talked about their packmates with their boyfriend as a packaged deal. I had hoped it was just the shows speeding the plot along. Tinker’s question called up my own suspicions again.

“She didn’t mention any,” I replied and heard the crash of metal on metal as Tinker accidentally pinched his fingers while closing the person sized oven doors.

Tinker looked straight at me. Not registering what I knew had to be pain sensors in those hands going off, -almost- shouting, “NONE!?”

I rubbed the back of my neck self-consciously. “I think the human culture of monogamy might have made her hesitant to talk about potential Kho’.”

It was a lie, but I was playing to the Xenophilic Gearschilde mores that allowed for cultural concessions. Tinker dubiously nodded at me, forced to take at face value a rumored exotic human custom, and Itaro’s response to it. “I… I’m sure that’s it.”

“Is it that odd? Not talking about packmates I mean?” I asked after a while stewing on the words. too curious to stop myself now that I had a cover. I didn’t think about it during the date, but almost immediately afterwards I knew something had been missing from our conversations.

“Odd? It’s a flashing warning sign. Loners aren’t common, and they tend to be antisocial at best, or at worst, predatory. By the end of the first date with Ol’tasa, I at least knew her packmates’ names and quirks,” Tinker explained as we took a water break as the last batch of bread rose in the oven.

Had Itaro mentioned any friends? Were her sisters that much work that she never made any? I remember her talking about some classmates, but did she not have anyone close outside her family?

‘The eight-ball says doubtful,’ Squirrel brain commented.

Tinker quelled the subject as he turned off the oven with his now scuffed hand. “Well, I wouldn’t worry about it too much. You said Reqellia has known Itaro since she was a pup, and I trust her judgment. Besides, it’s dinner time!”

I looked at the massive spread on the counters in warming trays. “What’s the occasion?”

Tinker laughed. “With the exception of being Mid-Shel night, none really. This is a Community Center after all. We are expected to care for anyone who passes through the hallway doors.”

“Does Community Center mean something different in the Gearschilde language?” I asked, still confused, if this was a hostel, a barracks, or just a co-op.

“Calling this the same as a Shil’vati community center is like calling an Imperial dreadnaught a spaceship, but let’s talk about it over a meal, I’m starved,” Tinker said as he walked over to a weird, shaped box next to the door, and pressed the first physical button I had seen off Earth, labeled request for non-emergency assistance, kitchen.

A three-tone bell sounded, and doors opened almost immediately. Provides came in and shepherded me to a set of mens communal showers since I was covered in sweat, flour, cooking oil…

And blood, once Tinker saw I could wield a knife he had me clean fish, and even trim Turox ribs. First time I deboned a raw fish with Reqellia a month and a half ago I nearly vomited, but now? I probably smelled like a soured Pippiya with all the cooking scraps on me.

“Did you bring an extra set of clothes?” Provides asked as she tapped on an omni-pad, her eyes moved chameleon-like as she read, walked, and talked at the same time.

“Uh, no?” I answered.

sh*t, did I forget something?

“No trouble, there’s basic clothing in assorted sizes and shapes at the entrance of the shower room. Let me know by Omni-pad when you are done if you want an escort back to the dining hall,” Provides said matter-of-factly before she left.

I grabbed a set of clean clothes in my size packed in a waterproof bag from the row of cubbies and walked to a shower head, shutting the curtains on the partition before kicking on the hot water and stripping. In high school this would have been terrifying, even with the partitions. Now, after the Rakiri gym? It was just normal to shower hearing the bustling and conversations of other people.

‘How did this become normal?’ Squirrel brain asked.

‘Because it’s my life now,’ I answered back mentally. Something about my answer felt incomplete, but my introspection was cut off by my growling and a sudden pang in my stomach. My body had just let me know it was running on empty.

I quickly finished washing off and put on the new clothes while putting my dirty nice clothes in a hamper bag, breaking ID chit in half to reclaim it in the morning. Messaging Provides as I stood in front of the shower room, hopping from one foot to the next to distract myself from hunger. Not wanting to waste time exploring.

Provides, as if by magic, arrived less than a minute after I called to escort me to the dining hall.

Thankfully Cee was already here when we arrived, sparing me the embarrassment of anticipating where I should sit. Next to her was a Gearschilde... child, with a crown of black feathers, and wearing a small cross body backpack with a thin cable snaking to a port on the back of their neck. As Cee waved the kid jumped out of their seat and beelined it towards me.

A mechanical arm extended out of the backpack, and curled into a half first twitchily, wobbling in midair. The child greeted excitedly “Hi! I’m Starts Forge Fires With Dad, or Firestarter for short, who are you!?”

I beamed back and lightly tapped her mechanical hand with my own. “I’m Klein, it’s nice to meet you. How do you know Cee?”

“She’s my grandmother! I’m here for the next few days since I’m going to have a {half sister} soon!” Firestarter exclaimed.

“Come back here, Firestarter. Dinner is coming out!” Cee called, and Firestarter twirled, running back to the table. A feather dropped away from her temple, gray at the roots.

‘That explains why they are all bald, if they need augments just to live past forty, how bad is pregnancy?’ Squirrel-brain muttered grimly.

My dark thoughts were again interrupted when I sat down and noticed two conveyor belts that went down the center and back to the kitchen started to move metal plate after metal plate of food I had help make stream out, each dish covered with a glass top with printed and raised lettering in easy to read blocky Trade Shil used in travel kiosks. I looked down to see placards with buttons, different languages and even what I assumed to be braille like dots and dashes. Along with silhouettes of different species.

It read: Use this translator for different dietary restrictions, pick only dishes that have your silhouette.

I grabbed the first plate with a Rakiri silhouette since Human weren't accounted for yet and opened it up. It was Jinkobeast dumplings in bone broth. I wasn’t talking again until I put the third platter back on the conveyor back to the kitchen to be cleaned. Tinker had sat down with us in the in-between time. Eating as ravenously as I was, I hardly noticed him.

I looked around then. The other guests were not what I was used to. Older Gearschilde sure, but Shil, Helkam, Senthe, Triki, Rakiri, Kortika, even a shark-like Edixi sat in the back, the tips of its fins and nose white with age, many wearing a Gearschilde-made workwear like I was.

“What kind of customers do you get here?” I asked, and Cee looked perplexed.

“Not customers, just people, and they come here for different reasons. Many of them needed refuge from the universe, a good meal, and medical care,” Cee explained, her eyes crinkling in a wistful smile.

“Doesn’t the Imperium provide that?” I quired quietly. It felt like a heavy subject, but I was curious, so I pressed on.

“Yes, if you are within the territories of your residency, and even then, what the Imperium provides might not be enough to sustain you,” Cee said, her voice dropping until it was a hushed whisper.

“Why not just change residency, or appeal for extra resources?” I asked. I was mostly sure of the answer, but I wanted to be certain.

“The Imperium, for all its support, is complicated, and getting those appeals heard can be difficult if you don’t have money or connections. We provide help where we can, like her.” Cee pointed to a Shil woman in business clothes wearing the Governess’s official badge, and talking to a Senthe woman who hid her face underneath a cloak.

“She is here to help many of our guests get back in the Shil’vati welfare system, anonymously, but it takes time,” Cee told me between mouthfuls of her own food.

The Senthe with the Shil official approached us. She moved her cloak away from her face just enough to see the poorly installed Shil’ prosthetic eye and angular face reconstruction. Her raspy, synthetic, voice croaked, “Could you take a look at me? After you eat of course, there’s no emergency, but my left eye won’t focus anymore.”

Cee finished her food and stood. “It’s no trouble. Firestarter, can you come with me? I think Grandad might have some new stories for you.”

“Ok!” Firestarter got down from her chair and followed out with Cee, munching on a cookie. I looked down to see another feather drop from her head.

“Is she going to be ok? What about her mother’s Kho{co-wife}?” I asked Tinker in a worried whisper.

Tinker finished eating before responding. “Firestarter’s crown feathers are rare to be born with, and it’s a good omen of health that she still has any left. As for her mother’s Kho, she’s in no trouble, but it’s easier to not have an (eight) year old still learning how to use her ‘training arm’ underfoot. Besides, she’s going to be coming here soon for youth meetings every week.”

What is this place exactly?”

Tinker paused and then spooled up the explanation he had probably given a hundred times before judging by the even cadence of his voice.“The Gearschilde name is more akin to a combination of ‘fortress’, ‘outpost’, ‘bomb shelter’ and ‘temple’. During the days before the Gearschilde Calamity, there were fortress outposts to house the convoys getting up to mountain cities with their raw ore to be smelted. Afterwards, they helped any traveler in need, and often became the nucleus of the present day Gearschilde cities. It’s a heart, a refuge, and a home, anywhere a Gearschilde lives now. Trade Shil doesn’t have the nuance, so it’s just called it a community center.”

Reqellia’s words about if I ever found myself in another system now rang in my head. That’s why she wanted me to learn about this place.

Still, I had more questions in need of answering. “What are youth meetings?” I asked.

Tinker flicked his eyes towards me, webbed ears flared out before vaguely explaining, “Just a place for those going through puberty to talk about what they are dealing with.”

A Rakiri woman sat down, her left ear twitching badly. “Dear, can you check this? It’s been acting up all day.”

Tinker kissed on the head what I now understood to be one of his wives, his hand split open to reveal articulated micro-tools. I ate dessert while Tinker answered my scant questions on what he was doing while his wife sung a few stanzas of a choir song every now and then to test her own hearing. I was glad to be quiet for a while. It gave me time to try and process everything that happened this week.

At the end of the night, Provides led me to the single men’s dorm rooms where I bedded down. It was barely the size of my closet at home, but it was cozy. I stared up at the slanted painted ceiling, wondering what Reqellia was up to tonight.

Reqellia:

“Oy! Deathlady! I heard I’d have a story to tell by the end of the night, so think of that as compensation for having a night run over the mountain range mid-Shel,” The pilot jokingly demanded in her heavy periphery accent as we raced through the dark sky. I already had my old armor and mask on.

“That I can guarantee, Flyer. You know about what I am?” I asked as I stood alone, bracing myself in the middle of the shuttle’s troop compartment.

“Only that you are apparently very scary. Not that I can tell. You look only about the normal amount of {badass} for a Commando.” The pilot replied.

I felt my face split into a feral grin, the first hammer blow of emotion getting past my regulator chip since last time I asked for a ride from the base commander. “You know about the ‘Living Exo’ program?”

“Where that {f*cked} up stiff that went to town slicing up Commando gals and putting all sorts of experimental tech into them? Oh, is it true you can’t have little ones now?”

“Yeah, it’s true. How about you crack open the cargo door? I need the fresh air,” I said, feeling each emotion of rage, guilt, pity, happiness, even joy, slam against the regulator chips controls like a hungry beast against a cage.

“Okay. Just let me know if you get cold. It’s way below freezing this high up,” The pilot said as I looked out the window, the stars obscured by clouds, and saw the door start to drop.

I let the panels in my back extend out, and started to power on my internal fusion cells. The whine of turbines kicking on in my chest as the heat started to billow out from me. “I might set fire to your crash couches if you don’t.”

The air rippled around me as the frost from outside met inferno heat I was putting out. My HUD built into my eyes showed that the cooling system that once housed half of my stomach spooled up to keep my blood from boiling.

I wanted out, I wanted to turn the damn chip off and let go. I wanted to be angry, and break things. “Ok, here’s the plan. When I say ‘go’ make a straight vertical climb, and when I say ‘cut’, turn off the troop gravity and level off after three seconds. You will pick me up at the top of the mountain in three hours.”

The radio went silent then finally in an awestruck voice, all lackadaisy rudeness gone. “Goddess’s sh*t and left tit, you’re Hele’s Spear! Yes ma’am!”

The shuttle banked up hard, I looked out the rear door, now facing the mountain range peaks head on, my feet still glued by the artificial gravity of the shuttle floor as we rose higher. “CUT!”

I let my knees buckle. I was pulled out of the shuttle like a falling corpse by the planet’s gravity. I mentally reached for the regulator chip that let me interact with the rest of society as a normal person, and I turned it off.

HATE, RAGE, ECSTASY, MELANCHOLY, JOY. I was laughing and crying at the same time as I plummeted without a jump jet or even a parachute, not that I needed it.

The relief was almost incapacitating as I watched the ground draw nearer, my internal inertial dampeners cut my velocity to a quarter of what it was. Thermocast-reinforced bones and synthetic joints took the rest of the impact as the ground broke underneath the soles of my flexi-fibers shoes.

I looked up the mountain that was mocking me. I bellowed. “You think you’re high and mighty? Let's see how you feel when I’m standing on top of you!”

I ran, the open exhaust vents on my arms, legs and down my back melting snow around me, I drank from the canteen on my hip to refuel the internal fusion generators that drew water from my blood, as they pulled off the hydrogen to fuse, the waste oxygen was dissolved directly back into my bloodstream.

I breathed out carbon dioxide, steam, and helium isotopes as I free climbed up the sheer mountain wall. My fingers, normally supple as real flesh, had with a mental command stiffened, hard as tool steel spikes that bit into the rockface.

The first time I had made this climb was with Justice For The Desecrated when he questioned me about what had happened while offering solace. Now as I crested the summit, I looked out at the mountains below me. My condition, ‘Hele’s Blessing(Curse)’,was now mostly spent. With the last of my raw feelings I screamed into the howling wind to let the universe know, again, I had won.

I had never lashed out at my husband or children. I was a caretaker, a homemaker, and a loving wife. Every explicit or implied comment and conversation my family had said about how violent I would be, how dangerous, now thrown right back in their face.

I would not be defined by a priestess who had sermonized that I would be, should be, nothing more than a weapon, the Empress’s tool of conquest. My mother, who looked at me so proudly in my youth’s special militia uniform for early commando training. To my father, who would never let himself be alone in the same room as me.

I was not a weapon, not a monster, not the bearer of a genetic heirloom.

I was a person.

The echoes of my roar came back in waves as I sat down on the snow, my shoulders slumped, and the vents closed. The fusion cells powered down, all but one to keep me warm. I sat up there with my Death’s head mask off, looking into the windy night as the twin moons’ light reflected off the pristine snow for a solid hour before the pickup time. Relaxing as the rest of the universe ceased to exist for me.

Chapter 23: Chapter 23

Chapter Text

Klein:

Knock… knock, KNOCK, knock.

‘How does she do that, make the softer knock somehow louder and more menacing ?’ Squirrel brain interjected.

“Smreglesnortz, I’m AWAKE!” I yelled from my tiny cell of a room in the Gearschilde community center.

“Good, because a Gearschilde breakfast is something you shouldn’t miss,” Reqellia teased.

Breakfast? With a growl I could feel my stomach trying to digest itself. I got out of bed and as I took off my nightshirt to change, the circle tattoo where my appendix had been, was now a bright red. Indication that my healing serum dispenser was out, I also noticed that most of the bruising around the abdomen was gone now showing how effective it was. Cee did mention it needed calories to rebuild tissue.

That probably explained why I was hungrier than normal now.

Following Cee’s directions, I grabbed an auto syringe from my pack and brought it to the center of the circle and pressed the button. The weird feeling pressure lasted only for a few seconds before the tattoo switched to green.

Thank you, Cee, for using my local standard status colors instead of Imperial shape standard.

I quickly changed as Reqellia continued to knock on the door, pestering me to hurry up. I bolted out of my room, and as she led the way I asked, “Where were you all night?”

The relaxed way of her shoulders told me she had fun, whatever it was. “Oh, blowing off steam.”

She breathed, and a small cloud of smoke, or actual steam -that can’t be right- came out.

“Show off,” I played at being grumpy, but was quietly glad to see her giddy again, and let the subject drop.

We passed some of the fun little workshops that made crafts and materials for the Community Center, tailor’s shop, chemical lab, machine shop, even a massive forge area and electronics workstation rooms.

“What can’t be made here?” I asked.

“Fusion generators, phase drives, exos, and some other tech that requires zero gravity grade thermocast,” Reqellia explained.

So almost anything.

Tinker was in the hall, already stuffing his face with something that smelled warm and yeasty, covered in something that resembled gravy and mushrooms. There were even Grindall flank cuts from the local butcher added in!

Cheese might not be on the menu, but Paloova was.

I sat down next to Tinker. Halfway through inhaling breakfast, Cee came down with Firestarter, and as they picked up their own trays, I noticed a different group of Gearschilde coming walking in.They were younger, smaller, but unlike Cee, Writer or Provides, they seemed mismatched, gangly, and all together awkward in their movements. The mods they had were like a patch quilt with all the seams showing. Tinker looked up and raised his sleek arms to wave them over.

‘If it takes all those augments to keep Gearschilde from keeling over before the age of twenty-four Imperial (40 Earth Standard) years, then what’s it like for them growing up through puberty?’ Squirrel brain asked.

I already knew the answer.

Hell , it was hell. Despite that, I was surprised by their cheerfulness. The closest one waved towards me. She had a mask on the was adorned with the feathered-styled herringbone gears typical of Gearschilde heraldry. She wore thick framed glasses with a camera on the left side, the same side her organic eye was clouded over on, while the right eye retained a sharp green.

I stood up, and before I could outstretch my fist, she offered me my first handshake in ages. I grasped her hand and found it was still natural but covered in a colorful compression sleeve illustrated with poisonous flowers, and control cables running along the side. “It’s nice to finally meet you Klein, I’m Weaves Wire In The Light, or just WireWeaver. Firestarter told me about you, I’m glad to meet Reqellia’s son.”

I shook, but was a little unsure of the action. I hadn’t done it in so long. “Nice to meet you, as well, Wireweaver. I see you learned human greetings?”

Her brow furrowed and the mask moved up in what I could tell was a smile underneath. “Only one we could find. It’s rare to meet someone our age here. Most other {young adults} are scared of us.”

She introduced others in the group, and as we sat down Wireweaver took off her mask. Her face had dark discoloration spots and scars that had been turned into a string of board game pieces with silver and black ink. The relaxed body language told me she wasn’t the least bit self-conscious of them. She must have seen me looking at her rather interesting features, because she started to explain, “It’s an oxygen concentrator. My organic lungs are getting replaced, but this lets me get some more mileage. If I get them swapped too soon, Cee is just going to have to replace them again when I get bigger.”

Cee responded to her name being called. “How is the mask working out for you? Having trouble breathing without sitting down? Oh, and do you want to decorate your new lungs in any way?”

Wireweaver paused, looking as if she was seriously considering the surreal proposition. “No issues breathing while sitting or lying down, and my oxygen alarm hasn’t gone off since you gave me this.” She held up the mask, then a spark of excitement flashed across her features. “And yes! Can I use dyed wire? I want the next time a Shil doc does an exam on me to make it look like my lungs are literally on fire !”

Cee responded again non-judgmentally, but skeptically. “You want the wire reinforcement for your lungs as well? I think we can swing that, but I’m going to need you to design it for me and make the spools.”

Wireweaver smile brightened. “Yes! I will start today in tech class. The idea of breathing even better while running sounds like something to splurge some time on. Klein, have you gotten any implants yet?”

The whole conversation was surreal in a weirdly wholesome way that seemed to be the status quo for Gearschilde. Biomechanical monstrosities that turned their bodies into artwork even as it failed them. I felt insecure that I was healthy . “Just one, a healing serum dispenser.”

Wireweaver looked perfectly accepting of that answer. “Those are fun! I have one of those and got dumb one time. Pricked my finger just to watch it heal up before my eyes. When my parents found out it was the first time I got the talk about abusing my augments.”

‘ First time? ’ Squirrel brain queried.

Tinker laughed and interjected himself. “My first time I got the talk was when I stepped out into snow with little more than a chest wrap and shorts. My priestess at the time practically dragged me inside telling me just because my new arms could warm my blood didn’t mean my feet couldn’t get frostbite!”

“What about you Reqellia, do you have any?” I asked, curious about what she might be packing with her military history.

“More than I’d like to admit. Which reminds me! Cee, after breakfast, can you look at them?” Reqellia asked cheerfully, but the over-eagerness gave me a sense there was some tension about it. The other Gearschilde looked at me questionably.

Did I make a mistake?

Cee responded kindly. “Of course, once you finish.”

After breakfast I walked with Wireweaver, Firestarter and company to “tech class.” Once out of earshot in the hallway she explained, “Reqellia is a little sensitive about her mods. It’s best not to pry.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” I said.

Wireweaver looked me in the eye. The canter of her voice told me what she was saying was a mantra of sorts. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s all new to you, and one can only learn by experimentation , right?”

Firestarter interjected, “I did the same thing too. It's okay!”

I tried to stay silent for a while ruminating on that, but the group actively included me into their conversations, trying to get me and Firestarter to voice our own ideas, even if I was still mostly organic and Firestarter was too young to fully understand every topic. It took awhile to realize Tinker was taking us the long way to the class to extend the conversation.

It was embarrassing, but endearing at the same time to be given extra attention. I still didn’t understand why they were so nice to me.

The ‘Tech Classroom’ was not what I expected. The large room lacked the industrial feel of most school labs and felt soft , with rounded edges on the furniture and variable lighting. The fume hoods were carved to look like clouds. The lab tables were nothing like the ones I was used to, with color coded sectioned off surfaces and mats. The whole room was designed to allow a child with a first-grade reading level to understand what was dangerous , and what was safe.

Tinker sat with me and Firestarter as we went through the very basics of Gearschilde perspective on science and technology. It was baked into children’s rhymes, color wheels, and chunky pictures. I did my best to let go of the feeling I was back in kindergarten and reminded myself underneath the pastel exterior of the lessons was the underpinnings of an industrial revolution.

After a while me and Firestarter were sent to one of the small rooms off to the side for math work. I sat in a quiet area with Firestarter that first time, and we read what were essentially technical manual worksheets to be done in crayon.

I connected dots to solve complex equations using nomograms. Long matrix math became a weirdly fun game of dominoes like what I used to watch being played on Earth. A pen that measured volume drawn let me solve calculus problems by coloring in shapes.

Working on little lab experiments with Tinker, we tested voltage, looked at iron temper temperatures, and played with spark and flame tests. singing children’s rhymes in the Gearschilde native tongue, and again in Trade Shil. I picked words up faster than the technology, but I was surprised how quickly I was remembering what a fire of green, blue, or orange signaled for composition.

But for all the loud machinery, it was soulfully quiet.

Reqellia:

I was laying face first on the exam table as Cee poked and prodded with a test probe. My chest vents open to my internal fusion reactor for the umpteenth time. Cee started with her usual question. “Feel better?”

I tried not to move too much while nodding. “Yeah, I feel at peace again. I think it might last longer this time.”

“Oh? Found a new place to go? Must have been exciting, because it looks like your second reactor went out again,” Cee asked as I heard whirring, she was unbolting out a burnt coil again . I was thankful I didn’t have to worry about parts. Marine Sustainment Command offered me a sweet deal that as long as they got my burnt-out parts for analysis, they’d send me replacements. My miniature reactor’s been getting more and more robust over the years as they improved upon the design for other death machines.

“Ruhal is getting the stealth training armor, as well as asked me to start sparring with Klein. I think it might keep the edge off longer,” I explained.

The whirring stopped and Cee asked, “Are you comfortable with that?”

“As comfortable as I can be. Ruhal finally broke down and told me Klein’s been pushing him to use his fast reaction mods to eke out wins. He wants me to start training with him so Klein understands how to fight someone with a longer reach. It’s not long after that Ruhal’s going to let him go out alone. I already do, at least during the day,” I told Cee. The whirring came back on for a moment before I felt Cee pull out the busted component and install the new one. A light clacking sound emanated as each machine screw torqued into place.

“Klein… He’s an interesting person, isn’t he? If you told me your son could go up against your husband, I would have called you crazy if I hadn’t seen the recordings myself. He’s far denser than a Shil’vati, or Gearschilde for that matter. Only thing I worry about is if he comes in for something I can’t fix,” Cee admitted as she rolled her stool to the other side of the exam table and shone a light where my central cooling systems lay.

“What kind of thing? You’re a surgeon-priest. If you can’t fix him, no one can,” I snapped, a knot in my stomach started to form.

“In the short term, yes, I have all the medical texts from Earth in an easy to search database. The problem is long-term . He seems perfectly healthy, and I assured Ruhal he is well adjusted and sane, but all I can do is tell how it looks from my perspective. Klein could be falling apart, and no one could tell because nothing looks wrong until whatever his body is doing to keep him stable breaks. All I can do is replace the parts. But no person is just the sum of their parts, ” Cee declared as she finished her inspection and started to clean up.

“This isn’t helping my fears, Cee.” I grumbled as I put my shirt back on.

“I’m telling you this so you aren’t afraid to bring Klein in here if you feel something is wrong. He’s your son, you will be able to tell before anyone else. If you don’t notice something wrong with his health, then odds are I won’t find anything either,” Cee told me.

I almost opened the door, but there was one more thing to say. “The trauma doctor who treated Klein. There’s a chance it might be him .”

Cee narrowed your eyes. There was only one ‘him’ I could be referring to. “Then if they find him. Your priest Justice For the Desecrated will give your old doctor the special hospitality extended to all those deemed heinous enough to be called a Watchheart.”

The little flicker of maliciousness in Cee’s voice told me I could enjoy the thought of him rotting away in the Gearschilde home world’s infamous prison.

I went to find Klein and go home. I was ready to join the real world again.

Ruhal:

The day after Shel break, me and Reqellia stood in the courtyard checking the fit and feel of the new armor. Itaro had escorted Klein today to the Rakiri gym, though by bus instead of the usual run route. Itaro wouldn’t be able to keep up a [five mile] run.

Siltan stood to the side while holding a dead-switch that would lock up our armor. It was Reqellia’s request, she was still the most apprehensive about this. A lifetime of taboos Reqellia had built up were being bulled through.

“Let’s take it slow. I’m going to attack first, alright?” I asked.

She wordlessly nodded in understanding.

The batons were specially built so that the instant they hit it would turn the flexifiber rigid around the area to prevent injury, even if that meant the whole suit would lock up.

This was obviously overkill for regular militia or even marines. For augmented commandos though, striking bare handed or with a blunt weapon could mean death without this level of protection.

I struck lightly at first, then a series of heavier and heavier blows to test the suits’ reaction. I turned my quick react mod on and with both hands delivered a “killing blow” to solidify the whole uniform.

Reqellia was pushed back slightly, but she didn’t go off balance.

“Ok,” I encouraged, “now your turn.”

Reqellia soft pawed the first hit, barely registering, then did the same test I had performed with stronger and stronger until finally she struck full force. I flew backwards and tumbled like an overturned mannequin as my armor locked up.

She instantly dropped her baton and ran over to me. “Are you ok?”

I slumped on the ground as the flexifiber relaxed and sat up with a cheer. “Not even a twinge of discomfort. Look.” I stripped a bit showing my bare shoulder devoid of any bruising for Siltan’s and Reqellia’s benefit. “In fact, I think you are still holding back. Want to get some actual fighting in?”

Reqellia finally was getting into this, but she spoke with reserve. “Slow at first, at least for me?”

After I won three times consecutively, she started to let go of her reservations, and by the seventh round I had to call off any more sparring, panting. She won the last only out of sheer attrition, but I knew she hadn’t started trying.

I gulped air as I tried to speak. “I think we can call this test... a success.”

Reqellia helped me up as Siltan smiled ruefully before leaving. “I need to get back to work. Take it easy for the rest of the day Ruhal, wife’s orders.”

By the time Klein returned that afternoon from the Youth’s Auxiliary I was enjoying my human gin with my feet propped up on an ottoman in my study.

Life was good.

Chapter 24: Chapter 24

Chapter Text

Chapter 24:

Once I got inside the house, Ruhal and Reqelia wanted to speak to me separately. Ruhal got to me first, and almost dragged me into his home office. It was spartan in furniture, but lush in trophies and his family in equal measure.

Ruhal looked neutral as he paced in his room. “I got a message from Tulo, and I am happy to see you found someone, and I am more than relieved it’s a Rakiri and not a highborn Shil’vati, or things would become that much more complicated.”

I got the whole explanation of Shil’vati dating structure. The setup and how quickly it went from easy dating to serious relationships. Even its semi-official hierarchy. Most of which I had already picked up from Shil media. Period dramas about the Shil’vati early industrial period were particularly rife on the issues arising from multiple wives vying for matriarch.

I finally spoke up after he went through what was considered the proper sequence of marrying, and how this was often subverted. “Ok, but Itaro isn’t Shil, she’s Rakiri, and I’m Human, I need to know how interspecies dating works.''

Ruhal gave me a blank look, and then spoke. “I have no idea, I would ask Reqelia about that. She dated off and on Itaro’s father a few decades ago when she was a strike team trooper.”

Ok, that explains Reqelia’s knowledge and affinity of Rakiri culture, but “What happened?”

Ruhal gave me a wry look “physical attraction, compatible personalities, and long term goals can all be very different things.” Ruhal said cryptically.

I looked at the door “Ruhal, let's talk about Shil dating when I am dating a Shil woman, so you don’t have to repeat yourself, because it sounds complicated and this,” I motioned at myself, “is already complicated.”

Ruhal then waved me out, looking relaxed “Just let me know if you think about dating a Shil’vati, so you don’t accidentally walk into your own wedding.”

“I will'' I said as I went to find Reqelia, who after inspecting and squeeing at my new look, turned out to be only slightly more enlightening than Ruhal.

“Rakiri are fun to date! However I must warn you, don’t expect privacy unless you double lock the door!” Reqelia was explaining boisterously to me as I helped her make a late dinner.

“But what about things like ‘what’s appropriate?’ or ‘how quickly do things move?’... ‘How do you deal with the anatomy differences?’ I was flailing a bit with questions.

Reqelia co*cked her head in a question “You just, do things? I see what the problem is here. When I met Bahtet I was already in my late teens.* Had boyfriends and had more than my share of awkward experiences.” She explained as she took a massive pot out of the pressure cooker and set it on the table.

*[Author’s note: Shil’vati years are ⅗ of ours, Reqelia was 26 on dating Bahtet]

“Are you still going to the Gearschilde Open services tomorrow?” Reqelia asked as we set the table. I nodded in agreement.

“Ask Cee if you get the chance. Gearschilde culture is very xenophilic, and half of Cee’s job is to deal with body changes and differences” She explained.

“What happened between you and Bahtet? Ruhal was kinda vague on the matter.” I blurted out before the rest of the family got here.

Reqelia leaned on a chair and chuckled softly at herself “He was a great boyfriend, and when I wasn’t off shooting people, we had lots of fun together. For him, I was a great getaway from his family; but the relationship would often become grating when I was home for more than a few weeks. We both noticed that, and after I left the military, as I was finding myself, I spent less time at Bahtet’s house, and more time going to college for domestic classes.”

It’s where I met Ruhal actually, trying to relearn how to be a househusband after the birth of his first child, and being laughably bad at it. We talked since we were the only two the same age in that class, and started dating soon afterwards. He liked me both for my edge, and my wanting to be a housewife. I fell in love with him for his audacity, his willingness to be more than a househusband, and he does have a nice ass.”

I knew Reqelia said that last part just to embarrass me, and it still worked.

Dinner came and went. Siltan and Telia were extending a bit of small talk out to me, but there wasn’t a lot of common ground for us right now. They both ran the family trades business, connecting luxury goods manufacturers with hard to find raw materials. Telia played the ‘huntress’, going to far off locales and talking to farmers, miners, and others on the ground. Siltan was the one who then got those supplies to big name manufacturers. I had worked retail, was from a backwater planet that only discovered alien life when it came knocking down the door, and I had too much to think about to really engage in conversation.

I hoped Itaro was having a warmer homecoming.

Itaro:

They wouldn’t leave me alone, gods, and goddesses above and below! Hario, Bahtet, my mothers, my sisters, everyone! They wanted me to tell them what happened, how the date went. I didn’t show them that picture of us, yet, because it would encourage them so much more. So I closed my room and locked it. Sitting down with my ratilan*, and picked a few chords before grabbing headphones and starting up Klein’s present. First song was Rime of the ancient mariner, the lyrics I couldn’t understand, but the cadence and rhythm sounded like some of my favorite poetic ballads. I started to strum bits and pieces of that song, and then every other song afterwards until dark set in my room and the paint on my claws had worn away.

[Authors note: a ratilan is a guitar, mandolin or lute analoge]

Klein:

Next morning I put on my new clothes and took the bus into town, getting a few strange looks at my appearance and that I was unaccompanied going into the city. I had my shock baton on a magnetic keychain connected to my kilt, and anytime I caught some Shil woman undressing me with her eyes, I'd tap the collapsed shock baton on my knee. The exposed electrode-studded strike area let them know what it was, and the license requirements let them know I knew how to use it. I hated being intimidating, but it got the message through and they looked away.

I arrived at the Gearschilde cultural center, and could see it was fashioned in Gearschilde norms of accepting foreign cultures. The building was done in Shil style rather than Gearschilde, but with a touch of copper and steel that was common in the architecture of Gearschilde buildings I had seen from the Hopestrider animated series I started watching last night.

At the entrance I met my first ‘adopted’ Gearschilde, a Helkam, gray skin and almost Human features and proportions, with a face that was Human-like, but without a nose, just two slits. The arms had some scales on where hair normally fell on a Human, but past the elbows they were both synthetic and reminded me of gaming computers. A clean white with diffuse blue light glowing from within vents, and I could see a flicker of movement from a whirring fan.

“Good morning! I am known as Tinkers With Curiosity, but you can call me Tinker.” he said, giving me a fist bump. “I am one of Cee’s assistants, and have been trained to do diagnostics of any augments for free. First time here?” he asked in a pleasant tone.

“Yes It’s my first time here and I have more personal questions for Cee than technical, and I got my first augment two days ago from Cee, I trust her work.”

He smiled “Cee told me she had an emergency patient just before the midweek break, but she didn’t say who, since Cee isn’t here yet, Firestarter! Can you show our friend around before the rest of our guests arrive?

I heard movement on the comfy couch, and a Gearschilde kid in a technician’s jumpsuit and a small backpack, feet swinging free and reading on an omni-pad looked up and hopped down.

“Firestarter?”

“Her full name is ‘Sparks Fire With Glee’, she likes starting fires.” Tinker explained.

“It’s important to start the forge fire!” Firestarter exclaimed. Looking embarrassed by what was probably an excuse for early onset pyromania.

The angular orange face was all natural skin, the only synthetic part I could see was a small cable on the back of her neck leading to her backpack. She had a small crown of feathers on her head that already looked dull and wispy at the edges. It was a reminder that without the Gearschilde culture of augmentation, they would rarely see thirty (Human) years.

“Pleased to meet you Firestarter, I am Klein.” I said, extending a fist.

“Hello Klein,Um, one sec, still getting used to this.” A robotic arm unfolded from her back pack, and moved clumsily toward me for a fist bump. She missed twice, but was able to make contact the third time. “Yay! I got it. Now, let me show you around.”

The cultural center was cozy and utilitarian at the same time. Classroom, kitchen, dining hall, a small medical clinic, and workshop

“There’s one of my projects!” Firestrarter pointed at the workshop wall where a small, round, metal leaf was done with a few marks to give it the appearance of veins. “I did that two weeks ago, and Cee said it looked really nice, and hung it up!”

“It’s very pretty.” I agreed, it was a little lumpy, but then again, I didn’t know the first thing about forging.

Cee was greeting guests when we went back into the lobby. “Cee!” Firestarter exclaimed as she ran toward her, and Cee picked her up in a smooth motion.

“How is my favorite granddaughter doing today, showing one of our guests around?” Cee asked and Firestarter nodded emphatically. “Thank you, now, can you light the forge?” Cee asked as she put her down.

Firestarter ran to what looked like a tiny fireplace and turned a knob on the side of it. She stuck a sparker in the fireplace and spun the flint wheel until flames erupted, giving the lobby a cozy glow. “I am a bit old fashioned for a Gearschilde, but I still find comfort in some traditions, and the fireplace is always a good place for friends.”

The fifty or so guests arrived and went to different areas. Tinker was scanning augments and making a list of who needed to be seen this week, or immediately if that was the case, Firestarter was sitting with some other children from a few separate species. Reading on her omni-pad and making a comment to the discussion here and there, I decided this would be the most free time Cee had today, so I walked up to her.

“Can we talk alone Cee, it’s about Itaro, a Rakiri girl I’m starting to date.” I whispered.

Cee looked amused “for once I am actually not the best for this exact conversation.”

An hour later I was sitting with Tinker in one of the off rooms, and was pouring himself a cup of tea before settling down.

Please wait while we transfer your call, squirrel brain commented. I agreed, it was getting really tired of this passing the buck.

“So, Cee could explain all this, but I have a lot more personal experience. I’m the husband of five wives, a Helkam, a Rakiri, two Gearschildes and a Shil’vati. All of us got together over body mods'' He lifted his arms up to illustrate his point. “So I have a lot of personal experience and more time to talk about this, so a Rakiri?” Tinker explained.

Ok this made sense, still I was a bit annoyed, I sighed. “Yeah, I like her, I am attracted to her, and if she was someone like… me, I wouldn’t have a question, but she’s bigger than me, fur.. And teeth.”

Tinker set down his cup “So, body issues, that is a pretty common problem with interspecies relationships, and one the Gearschilde deal with a lot among dating, especially among young adults still getting medically necessary body augments. What I can say is you need to go at a comfortable pace and get used to the knowledge that it’s her body.”

Tinker continued. “It took me a while to get used to my partner’s bodies. We'd swap mod ideas or more importantly help each other maintain our augments, and take care of each other. An example is one of my wives couldn't be submerged in water for almost a year, and I still have to take off or swap my arms to take a bath myself, so it’s common for us to clean each other. It’s things like that where I learned to be comfortable with their bodies as much as their souls.”

‘That’s the first real bit of advice I have gotten on this. Thank you.” I said genuinely. “So I’m still wondering specifically, Rakiri?” I felt like I was beating a dead horse, but I had little to go on.

“Rakiri tend to be very social, so don’t be surprised by best friends coming along on dates, or her encouraging you to date others, and they can move, at least physically, a bit fast since there isn’t a stigma on children out of wedlock, which isn’t even a concern, you two being different species.”

Itaro hadn’t shown off any of her friends to me, maybe giving me time? I decided to change the subject.

“So, just because I’m curious, why do your arms have vents?” I asked, and there was pride in his voice when Tinker spoke.

“My species can’t normally regulate our body temperature well, and when I was young, I traveled around Sky a lot. Almost got myself killed more than once because of it. So I built these and had a surgeon priest replace my arms, but they can do more than just keep me warm and cool” Tinker lifted his hand and it split apart into a dozen smaller appendages “Took me almost two years of practice before I could use them properly, but I am Tinkers With Curiosity.”

We continued talking for an hour before Tinker got called to teach a class on micro servos, as he stood up Tinker asked “would you like to learn something?”

I stayed until lunch enjoying the environment, and some of the biomechanical work was really interesting to watch being demonstrated. I was definitely coming back next week.

When I got home that afternoon Ruhal had presents for us, full sets of baton combat gear for me, Ruhal, and Reqellia.

Reqellia, a few hours ago:

Every habit was screaming at me not to swing at Ruhal, but Ruhal wasn’t giving me much of a choice. I knew he was good at the shock baton, but up until now I had stayed out of his hobby. I was always a little worried when he went out alone, but now, Goddess, no wonder he was fearless.

“You’re moving too slow, you need to strike with speed.” Ruhal said as he got through my guard again and slammed the baton so hard it froze the hardshell and flexifiber training suit to not only deflect the blow as to make it harmless, but to let me know he killed me, again.

“Ugh!” I grunted feeling the pull to just let go and attack, but It had been years, and I could…

No, no I couldn’t. I swung down, and Ruhal brought his baton up, striking my forearm. The right arm went rigid and I dropped my baton. He went under my left arm to strike a gut shot. In two more hits I was down again, frozen in my suit.

My training combat suit unfroze and I flopped to the ground. Ruhal was standing over me, and offering a hand “see? You are completely safe when fighting in this. I took Cee’s threat seriously and not even I can go against an angry Gearschilde Surgeon priest in hand to hand combat. I know you don’t like fighting anymore, but Klein has been fighting me this entire time, and against a common gutter punk, that’s plenty, but if someone is more determined.” he let his sentence trail off, and its insinuation hit.

I took his hand and got up “One question, is this you wanting to protect Klein, or to push him?” I asked, tensing, getting ready to fight. Ok I can just let go, I felt that phantom muscle and metnally pulled my regulator chip for the first time in years all the way down.

“Both? I want him to push himself, but I want him to be able to do that safely.” Ruhal sighed “The way the trauma doctor was acting on the Mercy’s Blessing about Klein, he’s never seen a species like this. Klein may be under our care, but I want him free to be HHuman.”

“Trauma doctor?” I asked, something about this didn’t seem right.

“Yeah, said he was retired, and originally a commando augmentation doctor, Li’tal?” Ruhal said and I felt disgusted.

Li’tal, the monster maker “You let Li’tal near Klein!?” I had let my regulator chip shut down too soon and I was furious.

Ruhal did not seem worried “Yes, should I have not?”

“Goddess, do you have any idea what the mad doctor has done?” I yelled, I could feel every muscle tensing, I walked back into the training ring.

Ruhal looked joyous. “No? But you can tell me after, now that we both know we won’t get hurt, fight me.”

He was fast, tactical and good, but I was augmented. After thirty seconds, I got an opening and swung at full speed. Ruhal went flying out of the ring. Suit acting like a full body cast, loosening after he stopped rolling, and popped up to his feet “I should have gotten these for us years ago.” he exclaimed as he walked back towards me unharmed.

Ruhal was exhausted before I had even slowed down, panting as he waved his hand in front of me to stop, and I mentally yanked my regulator chip up. “You okay?! I didn’t hurt you?”

“Not, the least,” Ruhal said between breaths. “Just don’t have your stamina.” He said as he took the helmet off and deactivated the suit. The ring went dark and the batons went from striking weapons to floppy noodles.

“Feel safe teaching Klein now?” Ruhal asked.

Chapter 25: Chapter 25

Chapter Text

Agent Militai:

“Someone is going to the gallows by the end of this, and it won’t be me,” I mumbled to myself as I wrote another belated message in my state room onboard the Glory’s Hammer. When I finished dictating another one of the hundreds of letters, I took the opportunity to look out the window at the orbital dry dock complex around core world Se’vala.

Then I got back to writing.

The spacious room had been afforded to me, no doubt due to the fact what I was on wasn’t a small and nimble corvette, but rather a bumbling orbital bombardment ship that had already been slated to return from Earth for repairs. Even getting onboard required connections, and a small bit of bribery.

A month into what was supposed to be a working vacation had turned into a full-scale damage control campaign. I knew there would be backlash, but cutting my communications and refusing me passage? I had known something was odd by the lack of messages, but the information blackout of a high-ranking Interior officer was something borderline heretical. The only reason I got Ruhal’s reports was due to its circuitous path, bypassing the information choke point on this world.

I finished my latest message, ensuring that the mail inspector responsible for screwing me was to be tried for treason if she did not resign and give a full and public report on who ordered her to block my messages.

It wasn’t even lunch and I had already sunk at least a dozen careers while also ensuring three more cargo ships held up in dock would start to make their way to Earth and Wayfair.

I sent a quick message to Ruhal and Admiral Na’lasa to cut Klein out of the Sky interspecies exercises, that he was not a “usable asset.” It was the least I could do since Klein’s little predicament saved my project, and possibly Earth.

I didn’t find out later that it would all be moot anyways.

Klein:

Thump

“Klein, you awake?” Reqellia called through the door after slamming it with a fist.

My eyes started to focus. Turox-sh*t, it was already late. “Yes? Give me two minutes.”

“I will give you five, but Hario will let me know if you are late!” Reqellia said mischievously. I knew what she was getting at. The later I stayed in bed, the faster I would have to run. I shucked off my sleep shirt and shorts, donning my running clothes as quickly as possible. I slung my already put together backpack over my shoulder and wrapped my skirt over my pants.

By the time I got to the courtyard Reqellia was sitting on a bench in house clothes. She stood up and ruffled my hair when I got within arm’s reach.

“Ack! It’s messy enough as it is!” I protested, my faded green pho-hawk had already been unkempt, and now it was a bird’s nest.

“I call it sufficient punishment for leaving this in the dining room, Chon’kers.” Reqellia chuckled as she handed my shock baton to me while balancing a teacup.

Chon’kers might have meant ‘Metal Wheel’, an old slang Shil term for tank, but Reqellia gave me that nickname when I started practicing baton training with her. The mix of irony and truth at its Shil and English connotations was something I could complain and be proud of at the same time.

“Fine, but I need to get going or I’m going to miss setup,” I grumbled while strapping the baton down to my skirt. I did not want to get a lecture from Hario… again. I did not have Shel mornings to laze around anymore. I needed to be at Hario’s gym to put together the playground.

“Alright, have fun now!” Reqellia called as she sat back on the bench while I bolted out the gate by myself, the sun still below the tree line. On quiet morning runs like these I didn’t even bother with music. Just the tap, tap, tap, of my shoes gave a wonderful drumbeat to go by.

My thoughts wandered back over the last month. The baton practice with Reqellia was far rougher than Ruhal’s. Unlike him, she focused nearly universally on ferocity and speed rather than technique. After only a week sparring with Reqellia, Ruhal had presented me with my own shock baton. It was his way of giving me permission to go out alone.

I quite literally skipped all the way to the grocery store that day, baton in one hand and a basket in the other.

My newfound freedom, however, was quickly tempered when Hario had asked if I wanted to be a ‘Pacer.’ I happily accepted, but it meant my Shel weekends had become exponentially busier. Back in reality, I felt lighter as my legs warmed up, the mild buzz of my runner’s high kicking in. Last week’s date with Itaro loomed large in my mind’s eye.

“It’s complicated, but I do have a packmate, and she wants to meet you, but she’s kind of nervous. She’s worried she might scare you.” Itaro had said fretfully over fried dumplings and sugared dough as we sat close during our second date.

“What species is she? Rakiri, Shil, or something more poisonous?” I had to specify species. Not that I wasn’t particular about body shape, but it would explain Itaro’s hesitancy.

“What? No, she’s Shil, just… different. How about you meet her at the gym on Shelkat {Saturday} when I bring my younger sisters and brother to play? Nice neutral area?” Itaro suggested.

‘Like having your girlfriend setting you up on a date wasn’t already complicated,’ Squirrel brain commented as I snapped myself back to reality as the gym came into view. I vaulted up the stairs and opened the door, closing it behind me as I tried to rush to the lockers before Hario noticed.

“Klein! I can put the bag in your locker. Now get going, you are close enough to late as is!” Hario not-quite scolded. Handing off my bag, cheeks burning, I raced to the floor to help another male Pacer I had been paired with named Talous.

Talous was heavier set, and already sporting a engagement bangle. He was only here for a few more months before his pack went to university as a whole in Thunderhead City. The [twenty something] seemed a little older than his years suggested as he calmly directed me on assembling tasks that I completed energetically.

It only took an hour. The sturdy beams of the jungle gym locked into place with deft click. Stabilized with stakes hammered into the freshly packed dirt. Tested by Hario herself.

Watching a [eight foot, five hundred pound] Rakiri bounce around like a pup ensured actual pups wouldn’t so much as bend the metal, and just a bit of intimidation what Hario would do to me if it ever broke on her.

Afterwards, I explained to Talous what Itaro’s plans were while washing off the sweat and dirt in the locker room before the gym opened to the public. The older Rakiri, drying off his fur and putting back on his engagement bangle, mused aloud, “If it’s that Shil I see her with on occasion, then you are in for an exciting relationship.”

“Why?” I asked plaintively. Just how much trouble was I in?

Talous did nothing to assuage my fears. “Why would I tell you that? I’m not going to spoil the surprise, especially if it is her!”

Once we were presentable we swung the gym’s doors wide, and thus the most popular day of the week began. Tired house-fathers and overwhelmed mothers of all species brought their children in so they could burn off energy under our supervision. This one public service Hario offered had given her the land to build the gym, and even discounted her utilities.

As a Pacer, it was also now my strict responsibility to ensure rowdy kids didn’t hurt each other as they tumbled around. I shadowed Talous as we watched, occasionally intervened, arbitrated, and even pulled a Shil’vati girl off the playground who had taken to smashing dirt castles for fun. Talous let me go as soon as Itaro, who was carrying her Rattalan, walked in with her younger sisters, and a Shil’vati woman trailing behind her.

The Shil woman was roughly [seven feet] tall, with sharp muscle definition that spoke of an unusually early athletic career. A gold band covered her right tusk, a common method of covering a healed over crack or dental procedure. Her black hair was shoulder length in a {mariner’s bob}. She looked at me sheepishly, trailing behind as Itaro beelined for me. Her siblings peeled off towards the playground, but the few older ones glanced curiously at the three of us.

Itaro ears twitched in nervousness, but her face was calm. Walking up with an even, relaxed gait, she extended an arm to the Shil in question and began the introductions. “Klein, this is Au’tes. She’s been a friend of mine for [five] years now. Au’tes, this is my boyfriend Klein.”

I offered her the Shil’vati standard greeting. “Nice to meet you. Itaro told me it’s complicated?”

Au’tes blushed. “Y-eah… Um, can we sit down?”

As soon as we took up space on the unoccupied benches. Itaro scooted some distance away and started to tune her instrument. The awkward pause lasted only a second before I asked, “So, how did you and Itaro meet?”

The softball icebreaker shifted Au’tes’s attitude from shy to more extroverted. Her High Shil was clean, noble-like, without my typical lispy accent to butcher it. From the way her words were strung together, each syllable enunciated without doubt, she must have had learned it from birth.

“The way all great friendships start, by unlucky chance. I took my sailing dinghy out on a stormy afternoon and hit rocks near the shore. I was flung overboard and cracked a shin. Nearly drowned while crawling to dry land, and almost bled out. Itaro found me an hour later while going fishing with her brother..”

“I could smell Shil blood the second we broke the tree line, and I remember you deliriously apologizing about the mess you made after being a total {badass} by crawling over razor sharp rocks,” Itaro interjected before strumming a few notes, testing the cords. her fussing over every string conveyed anxiety.

Au’tes shrunk a bit at the compliment. “I vaguely remember thinking how much it was going to cost to sterilize your shore line, and only then realized I had lost my ID and omni-pad in the wreckage. Goddess, you had to tear your hand sewn shirt sleeves to shreds as gauze to staunch my gashes while your brother dialed emergency services, and as I tried to crawl back into the ocean out of shame. When the rest of your family arrived to finish patching me up you started chatting with me, I think at first to keep me awake, but then you tagged along with me and Hario on the medivac shuttle. By the time my mother did show up we hadn't stopped talking for over a solid hour in the recovery room.”

“You were the first Shil around my age to listen to me,” Itaro chuckled awkwardly, her ears reddening as she tuned her last string.

“Yeah, because you’re the first of any species to talk to me for any extended time in a year,” Au’tes replied with honest affection. Despite the grizzly recounting, the whole conversation was getting lighter by the word.

“Why is that?” I inquired humorously, and just like that Au’tes’s mouth snapped shut.

‘That’s where the complication starts,’ Squirrel brain commented. With that innocent turn of words, I had turned our first talk sour.

Before our awkward instant turned into something worse, a miracle of unsupervised children occurred. Two girls on the cusp of the maximum allowable age had rounded the corner of the slide while play-fighting with foam covered sticks as weapons. Without any awareness of their surroundings, one of them almost struck two boys playing house in their chaotic warpath.

I didn’t think. Snapping up out of my seat, I vaulted over the railing before sprinting towards them. Grabbing the foam play-weapons mid-swing, I wrenched them away from the two girls, who still remained utterly ignorant as to what they had done. I stood for a few seconds as everyone, including me, realized what I had done.

The girls would get them banned from the playground at least, and nearly hurting two boys was grounds for a legal pissing match between the children’s families that might get Hario dragged in on the fact that she was liable for endangerment.

Everyone was in serious trouble.

“Hand over the children, prince of stars,” Au’tes hissed dramatically, one hand covering her face, and the other open palm up, motioning a ‘gimme’ gesture. I looked back to see the boys and girls both entranced by what I now understood was an impromptu skit. The parents glanced up, but didn’t think twice of a pacer entertaining their children as a way to settle them down.

I couldn’t stop smiling. She had watched the same cutesy, formulaic, Shil animation that I had seen on my first night off Earth. I also may or may not have binged it until I had finished all three hundred episodes over the course of two months.

It had been a complete rip-off. A menagerie of human animations, both eastern and western, but that only made it more comforting to me those first chaotic days after I was picked up by the Shil’vati. It was also something most girls would swear up and down they never would watch.

Except Au’tes very much had, and more so, was acting it. She was playing the minor recurring villain ‘Princess Bloodstar’. I discreetly tossed her the foam stick while I delivered the lines that had been said ad-nauseum in the show. “Never, princess, you shall be beaten back, like always!”

I took a step forward while moving my arm slowly upwards for an overhead attack, the first step of strike drill one, the first thing I learned with Ruhal, and had practiced for hours with him, and by myself, until I could go through the motions in my sleep.

Au’tes moved to block it with equal slowness, mirroring my own timing. I then struck a little faster with each successive step. Her eyes widened in realization she understood we both knew all the steps to this peculiar dance.

“You wretched prince!” Au’tes said enthusiastically. Outwardly, it sounded like a threat, but I had grown accustomed to Shil’vati facial features. The inward slant of her tusks coupled with the smile and dimpled cheeks told me she was having the time of her life.

She smoothly transitioned into the first step of baton strike drill two, and advanced towards me, slowing her movement back down to half speed to see if I could follow along. I took a single step back, blocking her first attack with equal slowness and fluidity to illustrate that I not only knew the basic movements, but had mastered them.

It was then that I heard the twang of Itaro’s Rattalan. Instead of the theme battle music from ‘Prince of the Stars’ though, she played the folk song -turned meme- I had shown her last week, and now almost regretted it. The steady beat of Ievan Polkka belted out, Thankfully, she wasn’t trying to sing the lyrics, but she knew their raunchy double meanings, and a glance towards her told me she was very much thinking them, nearly out loud.

We fought for a solid two minutes. I realized just how potentially dangerous the play weapons were as they produced a solid thunk more akin to padded wooden sticks than pool noodles. The sound of clashing ‘weapons’ became a steady metronome for us to keep time to. At the end of each set the defender would deliver a line from the show before we switched attack and defense roles for the next set.

Halfway through our third round, Au’tes gave me a knowing smirk as her grip loosed on her ‘weapon’ and it flew out of her hand. She had started to sweat, but her breathing was steady and even, hinting at being in insanely good shape. Her face contorted into a comical look of shock. “Nooo, not again! you win, prince of stars, this time.”

As she stepped away, I heard a smattering of applause from the kids who had gathered to watch, and Itaro walking up beside us grinning ear to ear. I extended my hands out to Au’tes and Itaro as I implored, “Can we get a round of applause for the actress and orchestra today?”

Au’tes was dumbfounded as she started to take my hand, looking into the small crowd. The clapping ceased as one of the kids yelled, “It’s the bombardier of Jarafell’s day!” With that, they all scattered with smiles on their faces, like it was some big game. Even Itaro’s sisters and brother joined in what looked like an innocent game of tag.

I turned to see Au’tes’s face crumple, and she looked down towards the ground, letting her hair cover fresh tears running down her cheeks. Hario swooped in, announcing lunch to distract the children from alerting their parents about… something.

“The bombardier of Jrafell’s day?” I asked.

Au’tes mumbled, “It’s a long story.”

Itaro:

“Thank you Au’tes, you really helped us out. I can handle any suspicions with your mother,” Hario said gently as the three of us left discreetly via the cargo entrance in the back of the gym.

Au’tes was chewing on a kit’chi stick again as I realized she had let her ‘blessing’ get a hold of her during the play fight, and was now crashing, hard. It was a sh*t reward for getting us all out of a bad situation, but Hario would make it up to her somehow.

Speaking of complicated. Watching Au’tes, I could see Klein was being the supportive one, instead of me, being there, talking to her in a low soothing voice. “Hey, you’re fine, can I touch your arm? See? Nothing is wrong, if anything, that was amazing! Ruhal can barely keep up with me for that long!” Klein assured, trying to snap her out of her funk.

He didn’t know her, but it was like something just switched on in his brain, and now it was his job to comfort her. The sight of him caring for her unconditionally made something primal in my head want to drag him back to my room.

Au’tes took a long breath, wiped her eyes, and tore her eyes away from the pavement with a smile. “Thanks, you’re the first boy not afraid of me crying.”

Klein gave a genuinely confused look and- thank the dirt mothers- he stopped himself from asking why. “Wh- I honestly have no idea what you are talking about.”

Au’tes nodded her head again as she shook herself from her Fugue, and spat out her words. “It’s only fair I tell you that I’m Hele blessed.”

Admission to being mentally unstable delivered bluntly and dramatically. I put my face in my hand. This is going to be a disaster.

Except, once again, I underestimated Klein. He was just as blunt, fearless, and excitable as Au’tes once he learned something new. His eyes started to sparkle before bubbling out. “Oh! That’s Kit’chi root! Normally they prescribe the distilled active ingredient in pill form. No wonder you are having a rough time! Did you forget your prescription today?”

“Of course, Klein would know the medical diagnoses of Hele’s blessing,” I mumbled, face still firmly in palm, but now for entirely different reasons as he geeked out about medical facts.

Au’tes started to stabilize, distracted by Klein being more interested in her condition on an academic basis. “Yeah, and the root is all I need. I’m a mild case. It’s why I’m allowed out unsupervised. Still, my mother would be so pissed if she learned I went to Hario’s gym today with kids around.”

“So, I have to ask, what did you blow up on Jrafell’s day?” Klein asked, conspiratorially covering his mouth from me dramatically.

Au’tes snorted in laughter. “Nothing! Honest! I was [twelve] and it was pouring rain. The celebrations had been canceled or moved inside. All the colorful awnings had gone dull and paper chains I helped hang up started to dissolve, I wanted there to be at least something colorful! I thought it would be so cool to light up the rainstorm! I took my sailing dinghy out with a high-powered laser projector my kho’ mother had been playing with. The light danced on the raindrops! I was having so much fun! Then a militia patrol boat nearly fired on me…”

I laughed. “I was watching it from our patio and it was pretty, even if the whole city went into lockdown that day.”

Au’tes smiled sadly. “At the disciplinary station they ran a simple scan on me, and it pinged off a warning. I was diagnosed with Hele’s blessing by a doctor soon afterwards. My future as family matriarch died with it, and I was immediately enrolled into the youth’s militia.”

“Why would your mother bar you from matriarchy?” Klein quiered.

She sighed sadly before continuing. “Because Hele blessed are destined for glory on the front line, not for politics, business, or family. Even if I believed that, I wouldn’t be seen by the other families as anything other than a warfighter.”

“You seem better with de-escalation; I did not have any idea how to defuse the situation until you showed up,” Klein responded encouragingly.

Au’tes laughed again. “The only time I learned how to fight was in the youth’s militia. During my stay at the hospital, Hario brought up her military history and promised my mother she could ‘train’ me. That’s how I and Itaro became such good friends. That ‘training’ turned out to be constant playing with Hario’s nieces and nephews, and little else. Not that my mother could tell the difference.”

She flexed her arm to show off the muscle she built up over the years wrestling, roughhousing, and hunting with my sisters, brother and cousins, coupled with her endless need to sail and surf for fun.

The two took turns talking as I listened, acting as a third wheel. Au’tes hadn’t spoken to anyone outside of my own family this much in a good long while. Hope started to blossom as I noticed just how friendly they were with each other. It was all going perfectly, more so than I could have ever imagined.

Then, at the gate door of Klein’s house, he stopped, turned to Au’tes, and kissed her chastely on the cheek. “It was a lot of fun to meet you. Want to come in?”

Au’tes’s face turned a dark shade blue, nearly black at the cheeks. “Uh…. Not-right-now-I-need to go home!” she blurted out, before waving and hurriedly starting to walk away, clearly overwhelmed by the situation. Klein called back, “It’s ok! Some other time?”

She nodded, but sped up her pace. I pulled my omni-pad out and messaged her. Don’t worry, you didn’t scare him away.

Klein looked back at me once Au’tes was out of sight. “Did I do something wrong?”

I pocketed the omni-pad, grabbed Klein, and kissed him hard. The knot that sat in my stomach for weeks uncoiled itself. My fears that Klein would reject Au’tes dropped away.

I pushed him into the wall while continuing to kiss him. Relief flooded me, we’d be a pack instead of a couple. Klein had accepted Au’tes, flaws and all, and all I wanted right now was him.

I pulled away to catch my breath, and leaned my head against the wall above him. “No-, you haven’t done anything wrong. Klein, I was so worried about today. Au’tes just needs time to get used to you. You didn’t scare her off or anything.”

Klein looked ready for another make-out session, but a loud grumble from his stomach suggested a different hunger. “We have time, but right now, food?” he whispered as he jerked his head to the house. The smell of turox steaks cooking reached my awareness. It was Reqellia’s specialty.

“Food,” I replied, releasing him. Klein pushed himself off the wall before we headed in, arm in arm, with big goofy smiles on our faces.

Au’tes:

“Great gods and goddesses, he kissed me,” I told myself, heart hammering as my mind raced. It was a simple peck on the cheek, barely an acknowledgment, much less a display of affection.

But still, he knew about me and wasn’t the least bit bothered. He wasn’t a simple savage either like mom had backhandedly commented. He had turned a close quarters combat drill I had been forced to master in the youth’s militia, into a majestic dance.

I danced with a boy, then he kissed me and offered me….

I stopped walking mid-stride, the knowledge I had rejected him hitting me like a thunderclap. “TUROX sh*t AND PISS!”

I yanked on my omni-pad to type out an apology, only to see Itaro had sent me a message already. How was everything fine!? How could it be fine after I said no? She must have already deleted my contact info and-.

I took a breath, the jump in logic required to imagine her deleting my contact info after all these years was enough to become aware that Hele was again trying to send me down the warpath, even if it was towards my own destruction.

I used my priestess’s training to control my ‘blessing’. “Breathe in, count, breathe out. Remind yourself of who your allies and enemies are.” I spoke aloud the mantra to guide me. I had to trust Itaro was telling the truth, even if it felt wrong.

“Hele always wants war, let her guide you on the battlefield, but guide yourself in peace.” I repeated the prayer taught to me as my emotions started to settle.

My omni-pad rang in my hands. It was my mother, and despite my conflicting feelings, I picked it up. “Yes mom?”

“Are you ok? I heard a nasty rumor that you were at the gym with children around, and even fighting Itaro’s savage boyfriend in a duel!” my mother Lam’sa exclaimed.

“Why would that ever happen?” I deadpanned, knowing she wouldn’t pick up on my sarcastic intonation. She was far too focused on bringing up my younger sisters for that. She only called me in damage control cases, like rumors of me -sarcastic gasp- being around children.

“I have no idea, Hario said you helped her this morning, but left for a run before anyone else showed up. Where are you right now?” Lam’sa pleaded.

“I’m just walking around the bay clearing my head and catching my breath. You know I am after a run. Should be home soon.” I lied easily.

“Of course I do, see you soon.” Lam’sa lied right back, she had no idea what I was like after a run. She had stopped caring and was just waiting for the day I could be packed off to the imperial marines.

“Bye.” I clicked off the phone. A truly spiteful smile crossed my face. Would she die of a heart attack when she learned the truth?

“Oh, I would never cross weapons with a boy. Much less a supposed savage who paradoxically, can deliver High Shil lines all while keeping up with me! And I could never play with Rakiri pups on a daily basis, that’s not how I got so muscular, never in a million years!” I monologued sarcastically to myself with a steadily rising volume until I was yelling out loud by the end.

I glanced over to see a mother, father, and daughter staring at me openly, stock still from shock at the opposite side of the intersection. Once they registered I had noticed them, they hurried away from ‘The bombardier of Jrafell’s day’.

I was alone along the bay again, noting even the Sharpfish gang feared me. I shrugged, and my thoughts turned warm again. I had a boyfriend with my best friend as a packmate. I held onto that as proof I wasn’t the monster my mother thought of me as.

Chapter 26: Chapter 26

Chapter Text

Klein:

I had a few weeks of peace before my life was changed yet again by a rude awakening.

The sound of a kazoo jolted me awake while bright lights danced on the wall, obnoxiously blaring from a now disused part of my expansive desk built for a full-grown Shil woman. There sat my old Human made laptop, cheerfully celebrating an event I didn’t think I’d survive to see.

My eighteenth birthday.

I got out of bed on wobbly legs, shuffling towards the offending screen. The computer had been on life support, connected to a military surplus Shil-to-United-States standard power adapter.

I blinked at the too-bright image of clip art showcasing a stereotyped suburban party with hats and confetti. Staring at it, the happy animation was quickly distorted by tears. The memory of me setting this reminder in my rapidly deteriorating home life dredged up more horrors from before I left… that place.

Today was supposed to be the day I walked into a recruiting station and signed on for a job, any job, getting out as quickly as possible. The day I could move away with my own money and tell Jacob, my father, to f*ck off.

Except, not a month later he beat me to the punch. Walking into our apartment stripped bare. The man who once showered his children with vacations and private school now could not be bothered to house or feed them.

“f*ck this.”

I went back to my bedside table. More memories bubbled up. My father looking down his nose at me when I didn’t come home a straight A student, then explaining my ‘debt’ for the services of being housed and fed.

“You’re not my family, or my future,” I growled out as I grabbed my shock baton. The memory of my clothing designs soaked in the sink when Issac found me drawing them. The word ‘fa*g’ getting thrown at me like sh*t in school. I grew out my hair, wore a standard black band shirt and blue jeans. The only jewelry adorning me then was a spiked bracelet. I pretended to be something I wasn’t.

I had all the data I wanted from my laptop. Keeping the baton’s electrical discharge function off, I unplugged the power cable of the laptop and drove it right through the screen. It sparked once, then died.

I pulled the baton out, dropped it on the floor, picked up the computer, unclipped the battery pack and threw both into the trash. Exhausted, and with tears streaming, I sat down on my bed and quietly said, “Today Isn’t my birthday, I still have [four months] before I become an adult, you stupid pile of obsolete garbage.”

I wiped my eyes and got ready for the day like nothing happened.

I messaged Au’tes good morning, went running with Reqellia to the gym, kissed and chatted with Itaro before warmups. From there we played a practice Raid game before our end of week match. Igot up laughing after getting my ass thrown halfway across the gym floor by Hario, who had been acting as the opposing door guard. Then we were off to breakfast. Our early morning conversation got interrupted by Itaro’s sisters (at least) three times as they poked and prodded us for inappropriate details about me and Itaro’s relationship.

After eating, me and Au’tes traded pictures of cozy crafts while picking up trash from a local park in the Auxiliary, and once I got home, I made lunch with Reqellia and Siltan. The whole of the afternoon was spent studying for my upcoming entrance tests into university. After dinner, I sat with Ruhal going over the ins and outs of Shakespearean dramas over dessert.

It wasn’t until I was crawling back into bed that I noticed the bare spot on my desk, a reminder of what happened this morning.

“f*ck humanity,” I whispered, and with barely another thought, I rolled over and drifted off to sleep.

Ruhal:

It was a quiet Shel morning, a rare moment of having the house all to myself. Klein was out being a Pacer at Hario’s gym, Siltan and Telia had gone out on a date/business trip together in Thunderhead city, even Reqellia wasn’t around, going “stealth” for the day, though she told me she’d be home by nightfall.

The cool complimented my gin co*cktail nicely. It was Gieker’s latest spoil of war, sent as thanks for a full explanation of cyberpunk that some pockets of human resistance had adopted the aesthetics of. The morning light was only starting to poke above the courtyard’s wall, which gave me a peaceful setting to contemplate my options.

I had become the subject matter expert on human culture within a week’s correspondence to the capital, and my use as an interrogator had been waylaid. I wore my uniform around the house while working more out of habit than actual expectation. My superior officer hadn’t messaged me once since I was “transferred” to the 4783rd intelligence regiment, and I was starting to suspect the entire unit was little more than a file in some HR person’s slate.

“Drummed out of service for being too competent.” I softly chuckled at my own joke. The slight buzz of the alcohol helped me stay calm as I realized I was already out of the military; the paperwork just hadn’t been submitted. No orders, no commanding officer or subordinates…

No purpose.

“Well, not quite,” I ruefully told myself. I could just stay in the Navy as an intelligence consultant, only wear the uniform on parades and, on file at least, stay in another fifty (Shil) years until I was walking with a cane. It wouldn’t be the same though, as I would have the military’s leash, but without the camaraderie of a unit. If I was going to be a consultant, it would be better just to get it over with and put in my resignation.

Then I could just charge by the hour.

My musings were interrupted by a military priority call on my Omni-pad. It’s low buzzing tone a death knell to an easy morning.

“This is Lieutenant Colonel Ruhal speaking,” I spoke perfunctorily as I faced the omni-pad’s camera.

“Good morning, Ruhal, this is Brigadier General Ka’tasa at Sky Commando base one. I have some rather disturbing news that regards you and your ‘asset’. It came over my desk last night, but I only just saw it this morning while catching up on paperwork.”

I blinked away the alcohol as best I could. My senses sharpened as a chill ran down my spine. “I apologize ma’am, I was enjoying an early morning drink this Shelkat(Saturday), so I might be a bit slower on the uptake than usual.” Waving the glass for her to see, I asked, “What does this have to do with Klein?”

The General nodded. In her mind, I had just confirmed something for her. “Brigadier Admiral Ma’Solu is requisitioning your ‘asset’ Klein for the Sky wargames in two months’ time as part of a demonstration for a new prototype riot control droid they hope to deploy on Earth. They want to show that it could subdue a human with any kind of human made weapon. Your official notice was to arrive a week before the event.”

I stared blankly into the screen for a whole five seconds. The layers of hubris and stupidity that a single human with little planning or training could match up against a purpose-built machine of any make as a legitimate test would put a firstborn son’s baby shower cake to shame.

The General smiled despite the grim orders. “You are having the same reaction I did, good, I was worried I had lost my mind. I double checked Klein’s file, and frankly, disgusted by the lack of morality alone. Not to mention your wife is a good friend of mine, and last time we spoke, she sounded genuinely happy about her soon-to-be son.”

I regained my voice. “That doesn’t even begin to cover the fact it’d be a faulty test for propaganda purposes. Besides, it would be illegal. Klein is still technically a minor.”

That last part I knew was a lie, but I was going to feign ignorance until told otherwise.

Which was right now.

“Unfortunately, military law states any person is considered an adult by their species’ own age and timeline. As per human standards, Klein just became an adult as of this week, and since he’s an asset, not a citizen, he’s free game.”

I sighed, and let the pretense go. “I was really hoping no one would notice, relying on obscurity as it were. Not that it counts now, but I only delayed the start of the adoption process due to its already complicated proceedings. The less eyes on Klein’s legal presence the better.”

The General looked mollified, but stern. “I agree that it had been the safest route, but that doesn’t mean it was safe. There are a few reactive options we have. The fastest is to deny the requisition, but that’s a military court battle. It wouldn’t be long until you get other demands once they smelled blood.”

All which would spell trouble for me, Klein, and Reqellia. “What about getting Agent Militai to deny it? She is technically the commanding officer of the project.”

“She’s the next step, but it will take weeks for her to get a message on Earth, and my cyber analyst says she may have gone dark.” As the General spoke, her looming implications were clear.

I poured my drink out on the floor with distaste. I needed something to wake me back up. “Thank you, Ma’am. I need to send out a few messages. Can you take a group call this evening?”

For the first time I understood just how supportive the General was going to be. “Ruhal, this is for Reqellia, and even more so for myself. I’m getting a shuttle to be there personally. I haven’t seen the girl in over a year.”

“Thank you, Ma’am. I owe you.” I saluted and cut the connection, immediately putting in a priority alert message to Klein’s Imperial Child Assistance Division (ICAD) agent Ka’tel, Siltan, Telia, Reqellia, and Klein himself.

I then got up to make the strongest brew of caffeinated tea I could find.

It was going to be a long day.

Ka’tel:

—----------------------------------------------------------

I leapt from tree to tree. The stone-like bark rough against my palms, its leaves glowed a dangerous dull red that warned of instant burns. The topmost branches were bare, billowing out yellow smoke from vents.

The green and brown of my food ran along a paved path in the distance. I dove through the burning petals towards my prey in a full pounce, and only realized my fatal mistake too late.

The face of my mother glared at me triumphantly as she whorled around, long vines of flowers tracing her movements. A tungsten spear tip glistening wet and a razor’s edge pointed at my falling form. I was impaled on the weapon and crumpled. A neurotoxin making my body unresponsive “So, you are what’s been prowling the stacks for stragglers? I imagine you will be amazing food for my seedling.”

As the world faded an annoying buzz filled my head.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I woke up.

My eyes blinked back at the glaring light I was still under. My omni-pad blaring a priority message. I crawled out from underneath the warm, sleep-inducing light, and my vines I had styled into hair closed their sweetly smelling flowers and leaves. I had plenty of sunlight, but the hermetically sealed doors meant no protein from wayward flying insects had been baited. I really should just leave the windows open at night.

I grabbed my omni-pad and cursed as I cut off the alarm. “Damn to the deep and burn in the desert Ruhal, it’s Shelkat(Saturday)! Can’t your crisis wait?”

I started to read the message, and no, it wasn’t his fault, and it very much could not wait. I put on clothes that I had purchased instead of my comfy house clothes woven from my own ‘hair’. I grumbled at the chaos that I had been given for assignments.

“A Pesrin kit with a Helkam family that tried to, albeit very respectfully, eat his adopted grandma when he found her dead. A Rakiri pup that had been adopted by a well-to-do Senthe family, and I still had to show her how to keep her fur clean. Now I have a Human boy with a Shil family that’s more hyperactive than I was in my desert walking years.”

I kept monologuing as I put myself together. Complaining like a seedling about the unfairness of being given the ‘complicated’ assignments. I understood the logical and reasoned thinking, but it still meant physically and emotionally draining tasks on a weekly basis. I pulled out my omni-pad again and called up the spaceport.

“This is Thunderhead City spaceport. Oh! Ka’tel, have another fun hop for us this morning?” The flight controller asked, a twinkle of amusem*nt in her black and gold eyes.

“Yep, Silverbay, got any test flights for me?” I asked nonchalantly.

“Yes! Three in fact, but Li’toua is the most eager. The mechanics had to replace her shuttle’s engine and she’s been grounded all week. Only finished up yesterday and she’s been wanting someone crazy enough requisition a test flight all morning,” The controller gossiped cheerfully.

“Perfect, because it’s an emergency, someone is trying to steal one of my children.” I had a learned smile on my face, but my statement was mirthless.

“No lie? Well, I’m calling Li’toua a cab then. She will meet you on the tarmac within the hour.” The controller winked out as I stepped through the door and tied dark cloth over my vines to stop them from making me sleepy. Hopefully, the auto-cab and meals were the only ‘official’ expenses I had to make today. Paperwork for reimbursem*nt was always a pain.

I smiled, compared to the factory trees back home, flying in a shuttle full of untested repairs was a pedestrian risk. While waiting for my ride I started to puzzle through the complicated legal net Klein had been ensnared in.

The ride was uneventful, if somewhat bumpy on the way down. The flight controller wasn’t joking when she said Li’toua was antsy, and the emergency must have only heightened the pilot’s impatience more once we took off, pushing the engines to full thrust as soon as she finished in-flight checks. Making it halfway across the continent in less than two hours from when I got the call.

I walked up to Ruhal’s home and rang the doorbell. He opened the door almost instantly. I could see his flushed cheeks and rapid breath in infrared. “Sorry to keep you waiting, please come in.”

“You didn’t. Where’s Klein?” I asked, puzzled it wasn’t him that had opened the door. Normally he sprints to talk to me, then again, the boy practically runs everywhere he goes.

“Still at Hario’s gym, I didn’t want to make the situation worse if he misunderstood while we tried to figure out what to do. I just sent a priority message that he comes home right after Gym,” Ruhal admitted.

I wasn’t surprised, Klein unfortunately had little authority over his own destiny, and at best, could choose an option we gave him. Even for us as decision makers, there was little room to maneuver.

“General Ka’tasa has sent everything she has on this project, along with the justification. I’m starting to worry that the safest thing would be to accept the fight,” Ruhal spoke somberly as we walked into the dining room where Reqellia was pouring over the documentation.

“Without a high explosive or plasma weapon he wouldn’t be able to crack its skin. It’s a giant walking wall, as big as an Exo and a third as expensive,” Reqellia replied, not looking up from her slate.

Reqellia’s body was always a horror and wonder to see. The synthetic metallic structure just underneath the skin was plain to my eyes as I gazed across the spectrum. I inquired, “Does the requisition deny him proper weapons?”

“Well, no laser energy or explosives can be used. I couldn’t even take it on with those restrictions. The saving grace for Klein is that the droid is not allowed to seriously injure him. It’s one of the exercise’s specifications for the droid to pass qualifications. Not that I believe they couldn’t squirm out of that if something did happen,” Reqellia groused.

“If what happened?” Klein asked as he entered the room, concern washed over his face as he looked around the room. “Ka’tel? What are you doing here? Our next counseling meeting isn’t until next week?”

“Klein, can you sit down? Something came up and it’s… complicated,” I intoned soothingly.

Klein sat, but looked acutely uncomfortable, but as we explained the situation, he relaxed as his expression became increasingly perplexed.

“All they want me to do is fight a giant robot until I signal defeat? I could stand in the ring, say ‘I yield’, and walk out. Even if I did fight it, I imagine there will be safeties in place,” Klein said naively.

“The requisition order requires you to make a ‘best effort’, and with your status in the Imperium, the safeties required can be minimum,” Ruhal explained.

“My… status?” Klein worriedly asked.

Ruhal looked uncomfortable, but explained as best he could.

“You are technically not a citizen of the Shil’vati Imperium, since your species is under transitory military law, and under one interpretation, which would classify you as an adult at the nearest whole number in Shil’vati years, you are still a minor. Right now, you are considered a ‘military asset’ and so not subject to protections regarding minors of un-integrated worlds. I’m sorry Klein, but it was the only way I could bring you home.”

“Then I’m not an adult and can’t legally enter this without your explicit permission, right?” Klein asked, exasperated, completely missing the bigger issue that he was a non-person.

“The military interpretation of Imperial law goes by your own species’ age regardless of time of year, and by that you are considered an adult, and that’s the interpretation the Admiral is using,” Ruhal frustratedly spat out.

Klein stood up and paced like a caged animal, angry and frustrated. “Then give me something to blow it up with. ‘Human made weapons’? There’s plenty of rocket launchers that could do the job.”

“The specifications of the match state no explosives, otherwise it would be a combat test,” Reqellia countered.

Klein’s friendly mask that he had grown accustomed to wearing fell away with surprising speed, and what I caught a glimpse of someone meaner, something vicious, underneath.

“Then it’s a [f*cking] worthless test. Do they think some [ham-fisted] riot droid isn’t going to get blown up by a human with an opinion and a death wish? There are humans crazy enough to kill themselves and others up over made-up grievances, a robot would be a guiltless hunt! {goddess-cursed-poorly-bred-mentally-impaired-failures}!”

I snorted at the complex High Shil explicative, but something about his statement sparked an old memory, of treats made of crunchy metal when I had just grown my first set of hard teeth. “The Shil’vati tried similar droids on our planet during the first few years of contact to interact and even subjugate certain regions. All were hunted down. It was our first taste of thermocast.”

“You mean as a building material?” Ruhal pried, hoping for any answer other than the one I gave.

“No, to eat,” I explained as I smiled and opened my mouth for them to see the gleam of my metallic, triangular teeth.

Ruhal turned a little pale, Reqellia’s hackles went up, but Klein co*cked his head in a question, snapping back into his curious self. “How did you remove the oxide coating?”

“With hydrofluoric acid. Crunchy as tool steel alloy on the outside, soft as bismuth on the inside. We still order thermocast by the ton as a festival food, and it’s really good for us too!” I said, relishing the memory of the taste of properly prepared metal, still wet and spicy from softening.

The Shil were even more wary of me now, completely ignorant of my biology, but Klein, who during my visits asked twice as many questions about me as he gave answers about himself, simply wondered. “How did you hunt the droids?”

“Caught them in nets and pierced their carapace with a spinning abrasive,” I stated, regurgitating the facts I had been taught from my parents.

Reqellia stopped eyeing me, and again looked down at her slate. “Construction tools?”

Klein:

The dining table became a command center. Siltan and Telia arrived on the earliest commercial flight home that afternoon. Ruhal had presented the group with everything given to him on humanity by Gieker and Agent Militai. A Commando General was now eating my fresh baked cookies while discussing anti-armor tactics with both Hario and Reqellia. Even Cee had come over, acting as the medical expert while constantly asking how I was doing.

It takes a village to make a plan? Squirrel brain remarked.

I honestly contributed little to various discussions of the impromptu house party, even as I was the main subject. I could hear the conversations ebb and flow about my current predicament, swaying between old war stories, political debates, technical specifications, and legal strategy.

I answered questions, but I mostly cooked. As a matter of fact, I spent the rest of the day cooking. Always cooking. I had to keep my hands busy with all the nervous energy around me or I would go crazy. I made enough to feed the party, for Cee to take back with her to the community center, and still leftovers for the General’s shuttle crew waiting on the spaceport.

At the end of the day, General Ka’tasa called everyone together while a large display was being set up on one end of the dining table, playing clips of the unmanned Exo, explaining the plan to ensure we were all on the same page. I flopped into my dining chair to listen.

“The Riot Suppressant Droid, or RSD, is a slow-moving machine that’s meant to hold ground, boxing in a protest for containment and arrest. To keep costs down, the development team used hydraulic, rather than Exo standard electric motors, for movement. The hydraulic system can only move a fraction of the limbs simultaneously, meaning it cannot walk and attack at the same time. The RSD makes up for this lack of mobility by using thick plates of thermocast that would be hard to penetrate, even with modern standard infantry weapons.”

The General started up a clip of a dozen marines playing the part of attacking humans, charging it with every kind of hand weapon imaginable without ever scratching the surface. The droid would close the distance, four arms would carefully grab, then pick the marine up to be disarmed and restrained by a second team acting as the riot control. I couldn’t help but notice how sluggish it acted, often plodding after the marines until they exhausted themselves, and were picked off.

“The RSD is meant to pacify ‘red’ zones with a small marine team acting as handlers. We can all agree that against an angry populace of any significant size, it will be outmaneuvered, and the marine team quickly overrun. In short, the RSD is a public relations and tactical disaster, even if it reaches Earth in its current stage of prototype testing.”

In short, a piece of junk. Squirrel brain paraphrased. It had been tested against a dozen handicapped marines when it needed to protect against tens of thousands of angry, inventive people. Unfortunately, most of the tactics those humans would use were barred to me, but not all.

The General then went to explain our plan, methods, and the wanted outcome. It would require extensive training on my part. I saw my entrance to university pushed back by at least a semester because of this. The next two months looked to be now plastered with physical education rather than the bookish kind.

I kinda wished I hadn’t spent the whole afternoon on my feet.

The General wrapped up her briefing by giving me the floor. “Klein, I want to assure you are never going to be alone in this task. You have my post’s resources, within reason, at your disposal, and everyone else here I’m sure has displayed their own pledges of support already. Is there anything you need right now?”

Put on the spot, I stood up, wobbling a little under the combined stares of the room. I had lived by stealth, and now even that was being taken away. “Thank you, Ma’am, but may I ask that during the fight my identity be kept secret?”

The General made a note on her omni-pad. Then spoke business-like, directly at me. “I would recommend it. The fewer people who recognize what you are the better. I will put you in contact with our counter-intelligence team for redaction procedures. Now, are there any other questions?” The General opened the floor to the silent room.

“No? Well, I pray to the goddess that we succeed. Reqellia, do you want to come back to base tonight for drinks? My day is already shot so I might as well spend my evening with an old friend.”

Reqellia shook her head. “Later, I’m sure we will have plenty of opportunities next month.”

“I will look forward to the victory drinks, on me of course.” The General responded while saluting Reqellia cheerfully, and possibly ironically, before walking out first, quickly followed by the rest of the party, each saying their goodbyes until it was just me, Ruhal, Siltan, Telia, Reqellia and Ka’tel. The atmosphere changed to something more formal, and all the room’s eyes were on me.

Ruhal cleared his throat. “Klein, I can only give you an apology that you now have to be part of this {dog and pony show}. But I want to offer you something, I hoped it could wait until your Shil’vati birthday, but that’s already proven too late. I wish this could be done on a better day.”

Ruhal stood up straighter and delivered the ceremonial question in High Shil. “Klein, Rould, Stahl, would you wish to become Klein, Od’temal, Rould, Stahl, Siltan, Ruhal?”

I knew it was coming, but it was still a gut punch, he was offering me a complete name, first, house, genetic and legal parent names. I responded with the same ceremonial cadence, adding an addendum. “No, I want to be Klein, Od’temal, Rould, Stahl, Reqellia, Ruhal.”

Reqellia might not have the same clout, but she had been first to call me her son, and it seemed right that she had legal claim to my own name. Ka’tel stepped forward as notary, and grinned her open mouthed, shark’s teeth grin. I was handed actual paper to sign with Siltan’s name crossed out, and Reqellia’s written above it. I looked to Siltan, who wasn’t perturbed in the slightest. If anything, she seemed relieved. Reqellia was trying desperately, and failing, to hold back tears. I took the stylus and signed my new full name for the first time.

It would be months before I understood how much that name change had meant to Reqellia, and it would take even longer for the paperwork to be finalized. Ka’tel had to work through the complex bureaucracy that made something as important and potentially devastating as being able to officially adopt in the social constructs of Shil’vati civilization possible.

By then I had a whole new understanding of myself, the Shil’vati, and the inner workings of the empire.

Chapter 27: Chapter 27

Chapter Text

Klein:

I wiped the stinging sweat from my face before slamming my helmet back down. Looking over at my opponent, squirrel brain dredged up a memory to remind me of the irony of the situation.

The ‘computer club’ was just an excuse to play video games after class in the school’s theater, and for me, it was a nice, air-conditioned area to sit around. Home was falling apart, Lisa (birth mom) was drunk, again, and Jacob (father) wasn’t really around anymore. I sat on one of those torn up couches to watch them play a shooter. The tiny player characters against the hulking creatures, desperately trying to pour pixelated lead into them while scrambling away.

Back to the present day I was now facing off someone that could beat those little creatures to a pulp. My Five-minute break ended as hyper aggressive synth-metal blasted out from speakers behind me and I charged forward. My body’s aches disappearing for a few precious moments, my previously leaden shield was lighter again as I held it out in front of me as far as it could go so it wouldn’t bang on my knees while running at a full gait.

My opponent squared me up, almost twice my weight and half again taller than me. They snarled as they slammed a metal gauntleted fist into my shield, which I angled to deflect the blow, and swung my training mace right into their chest.

It bounced like a rubber ball as two pieces of hardened steel collided. I did the stupid thing and instead of stepping back I used the momentum to carry into a second strike. My legs were tired after the sprint, and I didn’t know if they could carry me away in time.

The gauntlet that had crashed into my shield now snapped forward open palmed and grabbed me by the shoulder. I struck the arm, but I might as well have hit an I-beam. Thankfully squirrel brain was great at assessing tactical situations like this.

‘And at this moment Klein knew he f*cked up.’ Squirrel brain offered up, that doesn’t help s-.

I was thrown into the dirt floor. I didn’t even have time to get up before a massive boot lightly rested on my chest without constricting my breathing. I looked up to see the half-spotted-gray, half-gold-speckled-black-fur of Hario’s smiling face instead of her helmeted form. A clear indication the training for today was over. Her tone was humorous as she asked, “You already know what you did wrong?”

“I tried to strike, pushing the offense on a non-staggered opponent,” I said matter of factly. Hario had learned to differentiate my questioning tones from my statement tone to gauge how sure I was on an answer, and that mattered to her a great deal.

“Correct, but I’m not going to hold it against you. You must be exhausted, and you got the important part of the exercises done, we can clean up your play fighting later.”

The important part of the exercise being using ‘the weapon’. Hario was deadly serious any time I picked up even the dummy training version we had. if I made a mistake she wouldn’t yell, just calmly bark a single order to stop before having me do a [five-minute] plank exercise before we started up again.

I didn’t complain. We had tested ‘the weapon’ on a stand. I knew if I f*cked up fighting with the real thing, I’d count myself lucky just losing an arm.

Itaro’s smaller face appeared in my field of view. “You okay Klein? Hario, get your foot off him, he needs to breathe,” she ordered calmly, looking her aunt dead in the eye, a challenge in her words.

“I’m fine!” I said even as the weight on my chest fell away. Hario looked… chastened?

Hario awkwardly changed the subject. “End of the day and the start of Shel. I think Itaro would like you in one piece for your date.”

Itaro huffed. “It’s not a date, just a weekly dinner, we’ve only had two dates.”

I understood why Itaro was mentally twisting the scenario. The third date in Shil’vati nobility, and by extension tradition for everyone else, was to serve as a roadmap for how the relationship should continue, including major milestones. I couldn’t figure out why Itaro was so hung up on it though. I wasn’t a Shil’vati, much less a noble.

I turned the argument on myself. What was I now that we submitted paperwork for my adoption? I’d have to ask Ruhal again to explain my legal situation after next month. Right now I just need to learn how to hit things really, really well.

“Klein? Zoned out again?” There was a hand out in front of me. Itaro’s ears swiveled back in concern. I grasped her by the forearm, leveraging myself up. I heard a soul crushing creak from my armor. I looked down to see there was a crack where the rivet on my left shoulder pauldron met my brigandine.

“Yeah, just realizing it’s going to be another long (Sunday) fixing my armor,” I replied nonchalantly, using my damaged armor as an excuse to not have to explain my thought process.

“I do not know how you can survive in that [brimstone pit] you call a workshop without a cooling vest!” Itaro exclaimed as I leaned on her for support, the exhaustion setting in for real now. I looked back to see Hario was tired, hands on knees, breathing hard to try to cool herself down.

“I’ll be fine, just need to drink more water. Can you help me take this off?” I asked as we reached the benches. She happily complied as I sat in front of her, undoing the buckles while I packed the pieces in a duffle bag. The armor was made by Cee’s Kho, Blesses Metal With Soul, but I was required to help in its construction and repair.

I tried not to groan as I stood up. I could feel my healing implant had started to run dry, and the most recent bruises setting in. I’d be sore as hell if I didn’t refill it. I held the bag out and asked Itaro, “Can you carry this for me?”

She deftly picked up my bag full of armor in one hand, her string instrument she’d been strumming the last half hour in the other. Showing off just a bit for me. Not that I minded. I looked around to see one of Itaro’s mothers had already escorted her siblings home, and now the three of us trundled out of the gym.

Reqellia had brought the car around for us, and as I flopped in the backseat I realized with wonderment that the car’s air conditioning had been set to Raikiri-comfortable freezing. I cuddled up next to Itaro, and she straightened up a bit as I heard a small beep emanate from an omni-pad. I cracked an eyelid to see a smirk from Reqellia with the omni-pad’s camera facing us, and slowly looked up to see Itaro proudly looking straight back, unafraid.

Cuddling up, I closed my eyes and prepared to take a quick nap for the ride from the gym to Itaro’s house. I’d need it.

Au’tes

“Are you sure you are going to be ok?” My mother fretted as I opened the door. I knew what she was really saying: ‘are you going to be able to control yourself?’

“Of course I will be fine, Hario will be there if anything happens besides,” I assured her, mentally giggling knowing that if anything, Hario would be more of an instigator than any voice of reason.

“I know, but if her niece’s boyfriend is there…” She let the insinuation be said with silence, that I might not be able to handle myself around a boy. Oh, how little you know mother.

“Then I will sit on the other side of the room from him and stay near Hario, she’s never complained about me. I see boys all the time when I go walking, and not once have I lost control!” I snapped, trying to keep my temper from bubbling over. Lying easily to protect my evening away from the awkward family politicking.

My mother, Lady Alturi, grimaced in skepticism, but relented. “Very well, I trust Hario will intervene if things go awry.”

“Of course, mother,” I gritted out, her suggestion that she could trust Hario but not me to stop myself was almost funny now. I calmly closed the front door and walked with an even pace out of our estate grounds for all to see.

I nibbled on a Kit’chi root and mumbled small curses about how out of touch she was with her family while wondering if one of my younger sisters would get ambitious enough to just off her for control of the family. In the end I stopped caring halfway to my destination, doing my best to ensure they couldn’t control me outside the house.

When I arrived early at Itaro’s house I was immediately set to wrangle her sisters by her pack mothers. “[Clan sister] Reqellia they are getting away!” Natlas, Itaro’s (so far) only brother, yelled as we chased his sisters responsible for the heinous crime of stealing the pre-dinner snacks.

I chuffed as I put on a burst of speed while carrying piggyback all of Natlas’s [120lb, 54 kg] form. Swerving around a corner to the front gate to see his mother Kalasha standing to bar the way of the gaggle of girls.

“Where do you thieves think you are going?” She bellowed as a few tried to tiptoe past her. “If you leave, what you have on your person will be all of your dinner.”

The sisters slunk back, surrendering their ill-gotten appetizers, and I shared a small bounty of [crab cakes] with Natlas, not noticing the sound of approaching footsteps until it was too late.

I turned my head, cheeks stuffed, sitting on the floor with Natlas like some [kindergarten] playmate to see Itaro, Klein, and Hario walking in. “Uh, Hi?” I greeted through a mouthful of my half-chewed food about as smoothly as a fish out of water.

“Hey, I’m going to wash up, see you at dinner,” Klein said sleepily as he kissed the top of my head before continuing past me. I could smell the sweat salt on him. My cheeks burned and I looked up guiltily at Itaro.

Displaying affection to one girlfriend when others were around was a sure-fire way to start drama. My older brother had used that tactic to great extent in my house to pit his suitors against one another for ever more lavish gifts. It was one thing I was determined not to start now.

But Itaro wasn’t a noble suitor trying to keep her status as ‘first’. She was my closest, and often only, friend. The heartwarming look she gave as she helped me up said she was more than happy about the way things were going. My knee jerk reaction subsided again. The Learned fear losing a bit more of its jagged edge.

Itaro handed me the duffle bag full of armor as she joked about our once every month get-together that now had a third wheel. “Ready for another night of revelry?”

Klein:

I nearly collapsed after I closed the door to the washroom. Tearing open the meal bar with low blood sugar shaky hands, I Inhaled what was considered half a day’s calories in three air restricting bites. Sitting there on the bench for a few precarious moments while I waited for my body to feel less like a lead-weighted puppet with its string cut. Shrugging off my clothes, I chugged the rest of my water bottle before getting up and shuffling into the shower. I stood there, letting the hot water wash away the nastiness and dirt into muddy rivulets.

I grabbed the healing serum syringe off the shower ledge and lined it up on the implant where my appendix used to be before pressing the inject button. The target tattoo shifted from a dull red to bright green as I felt relief along my battered ribcage. I just had enough strength to put the syringe back onto the shelf before my arms became limp noodles for a few moments as torn muscles knitted themselves back together stronger. The hot water massaged the pain out until the serum did its work over the next few minutes.

I was exhausted, but at least I didn’t feel like shredded meat. I could hear the commotion from outside my wash area, signaling dinner was almost ready. Despite my binge snack. I was famished. Walking out, I was greeted by a dozen Rakiri washing hands and faces before mealtime.

It was a wall of noise as a dozen Rakiri loudly talked to me, at me, and around me. Not for the first time today I really wish I had an energy drink. By the time I arrived, the dining hall was already set, with a seat saved for me between Au’tes and Itaro. Hario and Bahtet sat on either side of us, screening us from Itaro’s nosey sisters.

Dinner was still loud, messy, and chaotic. One of Itaro’s youngest sisters kept banging the table with a spoon, singing out of tune loudly, and more than once a chase around the long table for the last portions ensued. Bahtet and his wives handled the situations as they arose. I noted that anytime Itaro tried to stand up to help, she was firmly ordered to sit back down.

Me, Itaro, and Au’tes ate while exchanging stream of consciousness stories that lazily shifted from one improbable event to another. Our Omni-pads out on the tables with photographic reference and evidence of our current wild tale.

It was dark by the end of dinner, and Itaro insisted that it would just be Au’tes walking me home on the off route so no one would see us, as we left the front gate I took Au’tes’s arm and leaned on her (mostly) to make her blush, instead as we rounded the corner she stopped, turned, and put her hands on my shoulders while bending down to be eye level with me.

“Klein, are you okay?” She asked, worry framing her face.

I shook my head in confusion.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” I replied with a small chuckle. I took one of her hands to hold it. She let me, but was still searching my face for something.

“You were kind of out of it at dinner. I know you are busy these days, but the way Itaro is explaining your time with Hario, she’s training you like my mother thinks I am being trained. That on top of the metalworking in a Gearschilde foundry, and Reqellia teaching you gladiatorial style fighting… Klein, the only people who know anything close to that amount of close quarters combat work in maximum prisons with extremely dangerous inmates. I’ve met those people when they do recruitment drives at the Youth’s Malita. The number of implants and scars they showcase scare me. I know that’s not you, but I can tell that whatever it is you are doing is taking a toll on your wellbeing.”

I let my arm go limp, but she held on. I didn’t want to ruin the night. “What do you want me to do?”

Caught unprepared by me giving in so easily, she sighed loudly before setting out her conditions. “I’d wish you’d stop now, but I know the situation is delicate. Can you promise me that you will stop immediately after this ‘test’, and take a break from everything, even just for a little while?”

I looked up, and uttered a vow I should have kept. “I promise.”

Au’tes gave me an expression that was both sweet and flirty at the same time. She leaned in while letting go of my hand, and for the first time, she took the initiative to kiss me. “Alright, now let’s get you home before we get any other ideas.”

“Aww!” I mockingly complained, reaching to catch her.

Au’tes danced away from me before I could lay a finger on her. “I think if I bedded you first, Itaro would kill me.”

“She’d congratulate you!” I countered while chasing after her, but after only a few seconds my legs became heavy again.

“True! But, you can’t even run right now, and I don’t want my first time to be behind some bushes before an single official date.” Au’tes, while she was flirting and giggling all the way, also was playing the voice of reason, no matter how much of our little skit was in jest.

“Oh alright, but only if you will gallantly escort me home!” I declared and took her arm again, this time she held me as we walked in comfortable silence all the way home.

Itaro:

After I helped get my sisters settled, Au’tes returned for the night hopeful, but also worried.

“Some days I just want to tell my mothers everything and be done with this whole charade,” she grumbled as she sat down next to me while we watched the stars on the roof.

“That good?” I made a suggestive quirk with my ears.

Au’tes blushed and leaned back “Good gods no! Not you too! I just want to stop pretending is all. I want to tell my mothers to shove off and watch as their perfectly laid plans sink.”

I was now glad I could be the one to make the reveal. “Well, Hario wanted me to ask what would you do if you could have it all? An official date, and finally telling your family what their ‘great warrior’ can do?”

Au’tes perked up instantly, sitting up with a slightly manic expression. “Hario’s going to sign off on my selection paperwork?”

“Not only that, Reqellia called in a favor. Your selection rotation would just-so-happen to start the day after Klein begins his rehearsals on the same base. It will be just you and him for the whole day, and possibly a sailing dinghy from the morale office.” Each word made Au’tes’s eyes grow wide with excitement before she gave me a giant bear hug and danced on the roof in joy.

“Thank the Goddess! I can finally stop! Wooo! And an official DATE in tow!” She whooped as her feet lightly touched the tiling in a dance over the whole of the house roof. Once she settled down though, Au’tes became more somber. She sat, hugging her knees while resting her chin on her arms.

“Is Klein going to be ok? He’s getting more exhausted with each week. I got him to promise he will stop for a while after this whole ‘test’, but will he survive till then?” Au’tes asked, looking at me.

I rolled my head side to side, mulling it over. “I think so, he once showed me a few pictures of himself right after claiming asylum. He looked like a walking corpse, pale and hollow cheeked. I do think he’s trying to cover up how much he’s been pushing himself, and it’s not something I like either, but I do know he’s been through worse.”

I leaned back to watch the clear night stars, as we both lay in companionable silence for a while before Au’tes finally spoke up. “Whatever happens, thank you for giving us a chance. When you started talking about Klein, I was worried you’d stop associating with me.”

I snorted. “Au’tes, you were willing to stay friends with me too, a low born Rakiri. I bet you could have shacked up with some street tough Shil boy on your title alone if you didn’t keep a ‘fuzzball friend’ around.”

She gave a deep belly laugh. “Goddess help me, I almost punched my Kho’ mother in the face when she called you that. I just want to clear one thing up though, if you start feeling… out of orbit you will let me know, ok?”

We both knew this was a formality. We had talked repeatedly about dating and how we’d go about it, but it was worth repeating. “Of course, and that goes for you too.”

She nodded, and our conversation strayed away from dating and boys to sailing, back to construction before the evening chill finally got to Au’tes and we left the roof. Within half an hour she was passed out, wrapped in a big, heated blanket we got specifically for nights she stayed over. I took my room’s couch and fell asleep while listening to the muffled snoring around me.

For Beta Readers:

This section is being taken out for this chapter, but I’m putting it in for a different part of the story later down. It gives a lot of context for both Itaro’s Bahtet’s, and Reqellia’s motivations.

I heard the shower room door open and the low thud of heavy footsteps. “You okay in there?” Bahtet, Itaro’s father, asked.

“Yeah, just cleaning up.” I replied, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice. Rakiri had the concept of personal space, they mostly chose to ignore it.

“Hario looked dead on her feet. You must be Reqellia’s son, blood aside, no one else would be pull that off!” Bahtet yawped a laugh at his own comment.

“Where is this going Bahtet?” I groaned.

“Honestly, I wanted to thank you. I was worried about Itaro.” Bahtet said, the carefree jovialness gone, replaced by a melancholic happiness.

“You’re thanking me for dating your daughter?” I queried. Human culture would have found such a statement cringey, but the gender roles were not just reversed, they were completely shuffled with a much smaller pool of males.

“Yep! I was worried that I had truly and royally screwed up.” Bahtet baited me to ask.

“How did you screw up? Everything seems fine here.” I said as I finished drying off and put on my clothes. The cooling vest felt like a cold compress over my sore abs.

“Everything is fine, now, I think you should see what it used to be.” Bahtet stood up and led the way to a shed house along the inner wall of the complex. Inside there was a layer of dust on the floor. The room had a lot of unused hand tools and all along one wall was the design plans for what would be the house we were standing in now.

Bahtet lectured, pride growing with each word. “This little shed was home for me, Itaro, and occasionally Nalousa, for the first five years of us living here. We had this dream of building a legacy in university. I got double professional certificates in construction and house management. Nalousa got a degree in Terraforming. We didn’t want a family or a pack until we had a home to call our own, and I’m quite happy how that turned out, even if Nalousa is gone most of the time raking in money as a terraformer. It worked out, we had different ideas of what family life would entail.”

“Then what about Itaro?” I asked, why have one child, then wait almost a decade before the next?

Bahtet shook his head. “It was early in our marriage, Nalousa came back from her project late, and in a particularly… amorous mood. I hadn’t thought about it then, but her birth control implant had run out, she was in heat.”

Squirrel brain brought up what I knew of Rakiri reproduction two weeks of screwing followed by…

“Itaro was an accident.” I stated flatly.

Bahtet nodded. “A happy accident, but one we couldn’t repeat. One kid was almost too much with the house being put together. It took another eight years, and every cent we earned to make this a home where our great grandchildren could stay. Nalousa practically called around for potential dates for me after that. We had a home, and she wanted me to be happy with lots of children. It wasn’t long before I went from one daughter to…” He gestured to the cacophony outside.

“Ok, this doesn’t explain why you are so happy about me and Itaro though.” I told him, trying to tie this non-sequitur together with his appreciation.

“Oh! Right, Itaro was an only child growing up. When she started having sisters, she jumped into caregiving with both feet, finally being able to have what her friends had at a younger age. At first, I was glad, even proud! Later, when she wasn’t going to parties like I had at her age, or when she lost touch with her friends, I understood that she was prioritizing her sisters over a life of her own.

It was my fault, and even when I tried to encourage her to spend time away from home, she brushed me off. Dirt Mother, I was even happy when she tried to court Gatron. Though when he came over for a first date, a few choice questions revealed what self-important asshole that he was,” Bahtet told as he leaned on the wall.

It all clicked together then, Itaro’s unlikely friendship with Au’tes. Bahtet dating Reqellia and the unavoidable, if friendly, breakup after things got too chaotic and noisy. Bahtet and Nalousa both had burned a good portion of their life to build this house, a nice house! But still... “Why? Why go through years of work when the Empire would supply you a home, complete with a room for every child?”

Bahtet laughed mirthlessly, a tinge of bitterness in his voice. “The Empire would allow a house, but it’s not something we would own. Once the children left, we’d have to pack up into smaller and smaller apartments as we grew old and feeble, until there was nothing left of us. All our work and ambitions would be confined to small boxes on our children’s and grandchildren’s shelves. The Shil’vati nobles would still own the land we slept on, and roof over our heads.”

I looked over the wall where E-ink pictures on the wall of a much more physically fit Bahtet setting thermocast steel into the ground. laying stone and pouring concrete over those impenetrable walls. I looked back at the man in front of me, much fatter, with broad laugh lines not even his age lightened fur could conceal. He had bled years into building a better future for his children and he was now confessing to me that he wished he could have provided more.

I wrapped my arms around Bahtet as best I could for a hug. “I should be thanking you, you’re the best one day to be father-in-law I could hope for.”

He let his hand rest on my head, shaky “Don’t mention it until you’re ready. Now! Before you get me to start crying too, let’s get something to eat.”

Chapter 28: Chapter 28

Chapter Text

Klein:

The late Shelkat (Saturday) morning was the highlight of my week. As much as I enjoyed the Rakiri gym, the Gearschilde community, girlfriends, and the Auxiliary, I needed time away from people who knew me, at least for a few hours.

I strolled through the multi-species neighborhoods that had once been so alien to me. The now familiar signs with their iconography and Trade Shil blocky lettering telling me of restaurants, cafés (or at least their equivalents), and meeting houses. I sipped my iced wayfarer’s tea with a bit of tal’k grain cream in one hand while pretending to be a passive observer watching different expressions and quietly eavesdropping, catching bits and pieces of words in languages I didn’t quite understand yet.

My eyes caught the start of a real-life family comedy. A Senthe Family of five adults and two children. The youngest creating a scene as they wrapped themself in an instinctual boa constriction crush around their father’s arm. By the look on the male Senthe’s face, tongue sticking out and squinting eyes focused on his subject, he was annoyed rather than discomforted as he tried to coax the misbehaving young child to grab wrap around a cradle stick instead of forcing him to keep his arm in an awkward position.

I tried to take note of each subtle action, the expressions and body language of the members of the Senthe family.I was so absorbed in the drama that I nearly ran into a Shil priest. I stopped, and one of the few times I didn’t have to crane my neck to speak to someone.

“My apologies {wandering holy man},” I said using the honorific with as much gravitas as I could. The small male Shil wearing the signature silver and black cloth of his order wrapped around him. He tilted his head as he regarded me curiously.

He asked me the traditional call and response question. “Are you lost, child?”

“No sir, I know my way,” I gave him the negative response. After seeing the temple a few months ago, I took a bit of a dive into researching Shil’vati religions. I understood this priest of Niosa was someone not to tangle with. He was protected by knife and legend in equal parts.

“Then may your journey be uneventful and boring, oh and take care of the little fish that get caught in your net,” came the response, with him shooting me a wicked grin as he departed. A chill ran down my spine. I knew I was now the target of a prank ordained by the trickster goddess.

As Sky’s sun started its descent in the late afternoon, I arrived at the Gearschilde community center after having my fill of solitary time within a crowd. I greeted Provides, the community center’s custodian, along with the rest of the small populace as I made my way through the center to the kitchen where Tinker was already starting mid-Shel preparations.

“Klein! How has your week been?” Tinker asked as he set an auto-pot to stir.

“My arms feel like dead weights, and no, I wasn’t pounced on by Hario, so I still get double,” I responded as I took both sets of hard chocolate-like candies Tinker had set out as his weekly friendly bet and sat at one of the unused tables.

“Damn, I swear that girl has better self-control than most men.” He twittered like a bird, puttering around the room, setting vegetable slicers and trimmers to start, then adding more raw ingredients to the hoppers. Once I polished off my pre-cooking calories, he handed me the Chef’s knife. “We got half a dozen [ice-fish] for a main course if you’re willing to debone them. Favor paid back from a trawler that I replaced their engine for.”

I nodded, rolled up my sleeves, and started to cut. It was gory, nasty work, but what they would be at the end would make it all worth it.

I sighed as I showered again, not wanting to drag the fishy smells back into the dining hall. I was feeling like my own armor now, constantly cleaned and wetted, before being thrown into the fire again to be shaped into something else. It was a nice feeling, but sometimes, the overwhelming sense of constantly being in motion got to me. I remembered my promise to Au’tes, and in these moments, I looked forward to not being constantly under the grindstone.

Dinner was lively, but not as loud as the barely controlled chaos of last night’s meal at Itaro’s. The kids who came into the Community center for mid-Shel dinner here were old enough to not cause a ruckus. A Gearschilde toddler would be cause enough for attention and celebration to have a night just for that.

The board, card, and electronic games started up with Wireweaver kicking my ass in our first round of circuit maze. She moved about the board confidently, but the second bout she lost. She had gotten used to hiding her intent with an oxygen mask, now with new lungs, she was having trouble controlling expressions and I had learned to discern some of her expression by eye movement alone, with her whole face exposed again she was a flashing billboard.

“I want to play the winner next,” I heard Firestarter say as she sat down. When I turned to respond, I saw what looked to be a different person altogether. The young Gearschilde had lost the last of her crown feathers weeks ago, but in their place now stood birds of paradise plumage that seemed to sway in an imaginary wind, shifting through all the hues of color.

“Firestarter, you look amazing!” I exclaimed, forgetting to keep at least one eye on my game.

“Oh! I’m not Firestarter anymore. It’s Crafts Feathers With Fire, or just Firefeather, it’s how I made these!” She said, excitedly pointing at her newly implanted synthetic feathers.

‘When you name yourself after what you do, it changes often and probably suddenly,’ Squirrel brain explained the obvious. I quickly reintroduced myself, then had an idea. “I’m happy to meet you FireFeather, I’m Klein, Do you have left over feathers from your project? My armor needs some more personality.”

Firefeather’s eye’s lit up like a blowtorch, as she squeed, “Yes! I will get you some tomorrow, this is going to look so cool!”

I turned back to the game to see that Wireweaver had made her moves while I wasn’t looking. Without the context of her body language, I couldn’t discern any strategy from the seemingly random changes she’d made to the board. I lost again with an even lower final score than the first game.

The rest of the night circled in energetic, but calm conversation. At the end of the night though it was all I could do not to sprint to my little room and enjoy the silence. The quiet hum of air vents, and the comfort of a heavy door and even heavier blankets.

The next morning, my forge instructor, Blesses Metal With Soul, looked at my cracked pauldron dubiously. Her frail orange tinted frame lined with connection ports sockets hunched over her desk. Soft eyes looked back at me, apologetic, but firm. The swirled conductive tattoos on her face seemed to ripple as she talked.

“No use just welding back in place, we need to add reinforcement so it doesn’t crack again like that. The metal has become fatigued and needs to be reshaped,” She told me in a voice like carved wood.

I slumped a bit. I may enjoy the rhythm of metal working, but the heat and exertion were a little much during midweek break. Still, better now than if I get caught sidelong by that droid with a hole where steel should be. “Fair enough, also Firefeather gave me these, you said I should add something to make it less an object and more an extension of myself.”

She stood up and regarded me approvingly. “Then I will meet you inside.”

I donned my forge gear. A filter mask/ face shield, regardless of how much filtration the room had, there were plenty of heavy metal particles in the air. A heavy, leather-like coat, leggings and boots. Dynamic earmuffs that would keep the sound just under deafening levels.

I stomped out of the changing room into the hellscape that was a metalworker’s workshop. Already I could feel the ground shake with a rhythmic thump of a power hammer. Blesses Metal With Soul now wore her metalworker’s exosuit which made her nearly [two feet, 70cm] taller, and covered her from head to toe in soot blackened steel.

The first few days I studied under her I thought she wore the suit to protect her weak body. Now, I understood it was the other way around. She could have permanently augmented herself this way, but would mean missing the comforts of life. To have a weakened body able to interface with this exosuit was, for her at least, the best of both worlds.

“Ready”? came her deepened voice as she held a new fresh block of metal already cherry red from heating. The next several hours were a symphonic cacophony, the deep rumble of the power hammer, the sandy whine of grindstones, the hiss of quenching, and the low roar of torch jets. All the chaos was punctuated by the loud shouts from Blesses as she helped me through the process of making a new pauldron for my shoulder, helping me rework where needed to correct my mistakes. She sang to keep timing on how long each step should be, matching every hammer blow. I’d catch snippets. One, the fire that keeps us warm. Two, oil to run the course. Three…

By the end we had roughed out and tempered the shoulder pad. The next steps happened in the much quieter and cleaner machine shops in which I worked with Crafts With Exacting Passion, or Just Crafts, on polishing, cleaning and etching the metal into a shiny work of art.

I was again under the water. Cleaning off the soot, coolant, and grit of my day. Tomorrow I’d have to be ready again for another week of training. My body protested at the thought. I refilled my serum dispenser the third time this week as I tried to unknot the muscles in my shoulders.

By the time I was clean, dry, and clothed again it was time to head home. I picked up my gear and headed out after the goodbye lunch that Gearschilde community centers had.

Halfway home, I learned I was never the priest’s target, but rather their unintentional agent.

Zel’thine, Sharpfish member:

“Now!” I heard my lookout shout over my omni=pad before clicking off. I bolted out of the alley and took a sharp turn left onto the walkway. In front of me was my target. He looked Shil-ish, except for the sandy skin and lack of tusks. His green hair was done in a cutting wedge, while his clothing was bulkier and looser than what I would expect from modern styles.

The look on his face told a different story. Confusion shifted to annoyance as he realized he was the focus of my attention. His hand went to his side, grabbing the hilt of… goddess dammit, that’s a stun baton!

My spotter should have told me if he was armed. I put on a burst of speed hoping to grab him before he drew his weapon. I leaned forwards and threw my arms out.

He disappeared in a blur.

Pain erupted in my stomach, then my right knee gave way. I was coughing, trying to get air in my lungs as I heard the crackle of electricity over my right shoulder. I didn’t make a move to stand. Knowing whatever this boy was, he could destroy me before I got back on my feet.

I analyzed the last few moments as I tried to catch my breath. He had used his baton without the stun function and drove it into my stomach before sidestepping and striking the back of the knee. My boss had shown me that same move, but this was fluid and practiced compared to her janky performance.

I expected threats, anger, or something violent. Instead, he asked in an almost friendly voice, “New to the planet?”

It was so unexpected my mind blanked on an obfuscating response and I just answered truthfully. “Yeah, how did you know?”

The intimidating crackle stopped, but I could hear a small hum to let me know the shock baton could still knock me clean out with just a tap. “My adoptive father is in naval intelligence. Before I started going out on my own, he gave me the rundown of all the gangs, especially the Sharpfish. Your markings, signs, and different initiation games, like ‘picking up a boy’?”

He barely had an accent. The lilt at the end transformed his statement into a question. I nodded in agreement. It seemed so simple, find a boy walking alone and play the villain. Pick them up and carry them a block, drop them and run. Scare them back home so they wouldn’t be targets of real kidnappers.

It should be low risk, that’s what her boss told her. The… whatever he was, if they were a he, spoke up again. “Ok, I know it’s different in other systems, but on Sky, if you see a guy walking by himself, he’s almost always armed. The Rakiri men wear claw gauntlets or metal claw caps to slice your face off. The Senthe men carry tangle sticks that will trip you up and then beat you to death. Half the Helkam here are from the clanless and are taught as children to keep stabbing an assailant until they no longer bleed. From the Deep! Even the Shil boys here often come from exiled Sestrouv families and know how to quick draw batons or pistols.``

“What are you?” I sputtered, finally getting out my one question.

It was unnerving that I finally heard hostility in his voice. “You tried a mock abduction without knowing the species!?”

I nodded, meekly, since I realized just how stupid this was when posed like a question, but I added. “It was a job, a… priest asked us to go scare the tuskless boy.”

There was a heavy silence, then a flurry of expletives in half a dozen languages. I heard a faint rustling as he pulled out his omni-pad. “This is Klein, Ruhal’s adoptive son. I have a little fish in deep water. Someone had her ‘boy catching’… Yes, I will keep her detained until you get here. No, I do not want an investigation. Please get her a contract. Also, can you get a member in your unit to talk to the Sharpfish woman in charge before she gets someone killed?”

A sigh before he started again, a ragged edge of anxiety now bare. “Alright, neither of us is going to move for the next few minutes. A militia APC is going to be around to pick you up with an ‘offer’ for militia service. Basic training will keep you out of trouble until you have your bearings here.”

I hung my head. “Dammit, this was my first job. I had all sorts of plans to celebrate, instead I’m getting pushed into a barracks.”

In a soft, almost apologetic voice. “At least you won’t end up in the morgue tonight. The militia here isn’t so bad. You still get weekends, and the local girls will show you around. Now, about this priest...”

Ruhal:

Klein burst into my office looking even more exhausted than when he left yesterday. “You would not believe what happened.”

I already got a call from the militia, but I feigned ignorance, it was easier to get the unvarnished truth that way. “What happened?”

Klein unceremoniously flopped onto my couch and launched into his version of events that quickly shifted into a diatribe about the last few weeks and its resulting drama, much of which I’d heard before in pieces, but right now it was coming all out in one long venting session.

If being an interrogator had ever been useful to my family life, it was when someone needed to be heard. I did find it worrying that Klein’s largest anxiety wasn’t being a target for assault, but for the woman who had attacked him, even in a hoax. That mentality showed an easily exploitable expectation of personal misfortune and a deference to others. Something common among the Shil’vati populations, was that Klein picking up Shil values, or something innate to humanity as well?

I shelved the issue for later research. After Klein got everything off his chest with a few assurances from me that he was being perfectly reasonable, which he honestly was, at least most of the time. And that he wasn’t annoying me, which was less true, but I was tentatively his legal parent now and duty bound to listen. I brought up the other pressing issue.

“Klein, I have some mixed information. The tests of the ‘droid chipper’ came back, and it cannot cut through the armor,” I said quietly.

Klein sat up dismayed. “We tested it in the Gearschilde lab and it tore through a [three inch, 7.62 centimeter] plate like it was paper! How thick is it?”

I sighed. “It’s not just thickness that’s the problem. The hydraulic actuators allowed them to use heavier battleship-grade thermocast armor. The thousands of micro-thick shock absorption metal layers gum up the diamond abrasive, and the hard oxide layers destroy the larger ceramic grains meant to cut the softer metals.

The belt just wears out after a [Foot, thirty centimeters] of cutting, even with all the torque from the chainsaw. You could get to the inner layer once, maybe twice, before the belt wears out, but only if you spend a full minute focused on the same area, and it will still be a moving target.”

Klein was momentarily disappointed, but then perked up. “Good news as well? If the droid-chipper won’t work, then we have clearance to use the ship-cutter?”

Well damn, he ruined the surprise. “Yes, general Ka’tasa wanted to know she considers this beyond reasonable, but she is modifying the stadium for the use of a ship-cutter, and will put in the thermocast reproduction order of your own armor once she gets the specifications. I might have also found something else. Do you still want a thematic song for the fight?”

I hit play on my omni-pad, and Klein’s previous lethargy and depressiveness vanished. Replaced with his now signature over-enthusiasm. “When do we start?”

Chapter 29: Chapter 29

Chapter Text

Klein:

“Charge!” my team lead yelled and I willed my arms faster to keep the rhythm. It was the day after mid-week break and Hario had decided on a good old fashioned mud fight. I wasn’t in the thick of the literal mudslinging today, but with two other pacers for our team to shift the ebb and flow of the battle by tempo and amplitude using the massive drum in front of me.

Hario, despite joining in the silliness of today, seemed ill at ease all morning. I only found out why afterwards when I returned from the auxiliary after spending much of the late morning and early afternoon working on a herb garden, cleaning out muddied solenoids.

“You will not handle a ship-cutter or even step on the field without your full suit of armor on and checked by me. Get any part of the business end in front of your body and we will stop for the day, no warnings. Do it more than twice and I will refuse to train you further. I don’t care if you lose to the droid. I am not putting my niece’s boyfriend in any more danger than you already are.” Hario’s voice was flat, toneless and deathly serious.

I tried to acknowledge but she continued, punctuating the danger. “I wielded this device once in combat. It dissolved the enemy exo, but when my weapon was knocked out of my hand, it tumbled, and a glancing blow did this to me.”

Hario pointed to the synthetic half of her face. “I was in full shock troop armor and it nearly took off my head. I want to make clear that your performance with this specific weapon has no relation to you as a person, a member of my pacers, or your skill as a fighter. This is just something that cannot be underestimated.”

I nodded and after Hario helped me into my rebuilt Brigadidine. She checked my straps, the helmet, and even that my boots were tight before clearing me to step on the field. I was silent the entire training session save for a few single syllable words such as ‘yes’ or ‘no’.

What I held in my hands was a prop, but all I had to do was look at Hario to understand the kind of hellfire I would be fighting with soon.

Itaro:

I finally got a reply from my not-quite apology I had sent to Gitron, and by association, his pack. I breathed a sigh of relief as I read it again.

From: Gitron Umosa, Pack Salfavo, 5th generation.

I understand why you stood between me and your {Pack male}, even if the relationship was tentative.

I question your judgment engaging with an almost furless boy who cannot give you a proper bloodline and has no natural defenses. Friends have shared rumors that he comes from a race fanatical with the death march of warfare.

I will take the rumor and deposition as a blood scented warning to heed and offer a gentleman’s duel if your pack visits my home city as arbitration to any conflict you may desire.

May your stomachs be full, and raiders bored.

The insults, backhanded compliments and a manganous offer of peace was signature to a wealthy family heir trying to backpedal out of a feud. The mention of friends added was a nice bit of bite to the offer. Beneath it all though was a simple ‘I don’t want to fight, let’s be civilized.’ Klein would need to draft an acceptance letter, but that could wait until he got back, we had enough to do with our third date coming up.

Ruhal:

I wore one of my few civilian dress outfits. The lace pattern going over my chest and shoulders was out of place on me. Still, it was one of the few times I was actually going to enjoy wearing something not military.

Itaro was playing to the letter, though thankfully not the spirit, of Shil’vati handbook on dating. She had messaged Siltan if she could ‘visit’ Mid-Shel, like she wasn’t walking Klein home twice a week already. It was official code for a formal ‘third date’ and the dating contract.

Reqellia had spent the last few days deep cleaning, and I even got into the role, shirking my non-existent work to play househusband. At least when it came to ordering a few celebratory items.

I saw it as the best of all worlds. The traditional third date, that was more like the tenth, without the complications and high stakes haggling I would normally associate with deciding others' romantic futures.

I knew Klein and Itaro cared for each other, but their young love hadn’t grown co-dependent or drama-filled. Au’tes was best friends with Itaro and already made herself an established Kho’, so while I dreaded that particular third date with one of Silver Bay City’s most Knifing families, I wasn’t worried about the dynamic between Itaro and Au’tes in relation to Klein.

I made my way from my bedroom to the dining hall worrying about another aspect of the night. Was Klein being forced to carry Shil’vati traditions over Human ones? Was I creating the human version of a Shil-pup?

My anxieties fell away when I saw Klein at the counter. His face might be layered in makeup, his ears pierced with golden buttons in Shil fashion, but his clothes, posture, and slicked up green hair told a different story.

Klein looked nothing like a Shil’vati. Unlike my own clothes that were meant to slender my silhouette, his own were tailored in the Human Regency style with even more militaristic features that gave him an almost Human world wars era feel.

The tight blue and purple pants from my grandfather’s collection had been modified with patches of active cooling cloth decorated in metallic patterns and fastened with brass rivets. A new cooling vest in my family’s color pattern with a dark blue jacket, complete with coattails that dropped to his knees.

When Klein stood up to greet me, I looked down at the boots, its toes capped in dull aged silver. He wore his now signature stun baton in a ceremonial buckled holster. He held a slate in one hand, and a stylus in another. Standing up straight he looked nothing like the scared boy I met all those months ago. In their place looked something more in line with a young Napoleonic era officer from my research than anything traditional Shil’vati would have deemed appropriate formal dress.

I was proud.

Still, he jumped excitedly when Itaro rang. Re-introductions all around like we had all experienced collective amnesia. Sitting down to a light dinner, ending with the signaling of tonight’s main entertainment by Siltan acting as Matriarch. “So, you are interested in dating my son?”

Siltan was neither Klein biological, legal, or even ceremonial mother, but Matriarch’s role and all…. Did my father feel this ridiculous when Siltan was asked the same question? All this pretend theater, like Klein and Itaro had been secretly seeing each other, and not a public couple for months. All for some phantom audience, though I really do hope some of my dead ancestors were watching for comedic effect alone.

“Yes, this is actually our third date,” Itaro said with practiced solemnity, though I could see her tail twitch in amusem*nt.

Siltan held on for a second longer, then the mask broke, and she said lightly, “Alright! Let’s see how you want to take this.”

Itaro pulled out her omni-pad and sent us the relationship contract, non-binding of course. I could see Klein’s penmanship in the wording as well, having suggested eighteen “dates” at the standard rate of a single date per month. There were provisions for other girlfriends and who could break off the relationship along with co-habitation limits, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. I waited for Siltan to sign first, but this was a much more conservative contract than my own with Siltan had been, and that one had been legally binding.

Siltan put her thumb down on her omni-pad to sign, and the rest of us did the same. A silent collective sigh before Siltan let the gravitas of the whole awkward ritual drop away. “Now that it’s over, time for dessert and drinks!”

Siltan pulled not one, but three bottles of liquor, a Shil’vati freeze distilled grail, a Rakiri fruit brandy, and a bottle of Human champagne, a gift from Gieker. The co*cktail was made. Not great in terms of flavor, but its sentimental value was appreciated.

The dessert, however, was rich enough to put someone in glycemic shock. I enjoyed the cozy night celebration. This break would be the last at the house for a good long while.

Klein:

“Ma’am, are these your children?” I said, carrying two girls, one underneath each arm, both lanky in their first years of growth spurts. The woman looked up, obviously pissed at being greeted by someone in a pacer’s tunic. “What did they do this time?”

I put the girls down, if they wanted to run away from their mother it’d be their funeral. At least these two didn’t gore me with a sharpened tusk. I tried to open my mouth to explain they needed some time out, possibly food as well.

Instead, one of them sealed her own fate. “Don’t listen to this crazy stiff, he-.”

“Excuse me!? Would you speak to your brother like that?” The woman cut off her daughter. Getting insulted was the least damaging thing I worried about today. I had been clawed by Helkam, choked by Senthe, and used as a chew toy by Rakiri and Kortikia. A few mean words weren’t going to phase me, but she didn’t know that.

“We are leaving, I apologize for their behavior.” The woman said to me as she shepherded her daughters out.

“Please don’t be harsh on them!” I called out, before turning around and being greeted by the pudgy form of a Rakiri toddler, still with its downy fur, and focused intently on a teething toy being pushed into my arms.

“I really need to take this call!” The pup’s father exclaimed. “It’s the game warden for my clan’s reunion hunting party!”

I nodded in acknowledgement, but the man was on a mission and had already started stepping outside. Talking loudly, being the closest thing to a bridezilla this side of the galaxy.

I looked down at my new charge. Its body and tail had gone still, pupils dilated out, big as toy saucers, the chew toy hanging out of its mouth forgotten.

“Do you see a bug! Where is it!?” I said in that excited baby talk I used with the youngest of any species, looking up to see if anything was flying around. I learned quickly why Rakiri households with young children were normally pest free when I saw Itaro’s youngest sister stalk and pounce on a gibli fly.

I looked back down to see it still staring at me intently, its chew toy dropped on the dirt floor. Sighing, I bent to pick it up. As I did something yanked on my hair, hard. It dawned on me what the pup had been so focused on. “My hair! You thought it was rustling grass didn’t you?” I said laughing while I delicately pulled my head away. It growled a bit, but I won the tug of war quickly.

It still took off a good lock of my hair, and from the face it made, my hair gel was not agreeing with its stomach. I tilted the toddler down just a bit so they projectile vomited all over my tunic that protected my street clothes. Instead of getting bone dissolving acid in my face.

I quickly studied the vomit, thankfully nothing was wriggling that would require a dewormer. I smiled at the pup despite that absolutely horrendous smell coming off the half digested animal protein sprayed across my tunic, and dribbling from the child’s mouth. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

I handed the freshly laundered Rakiri cotton ball to their mortified father, who gently scolded the toddler for my benefit. “It’s not nice to eat other people’s hair.”

The toddler in question giggled uncomprehendingly before trying to catch their father’s blunted claw to chew on. I heard the click of an omni-pad’s camera going off and turned to see Hario taking a picture. “You leave tomorrow, right? I’m cutting you loose early since Itaro’s here. It looks like you’re going to need to go get cleaned up before your shopping trip”

“And Klein? The way you handled that pup without the slightest bit of discomfort is what I expect from the pacer’s, good job.” Hario then walked away, surveying her little kingdom in the gym. I felt the warm glow of pride as I walked to Itaro and asked jovially. “How do you like my new haircut?”

Itaro had been trying to keep her composure, but at my question, burst into laughter.

Tulo was less than amused. “Killa help us, the only thing I can do is even it out, and what in the Deep got ahold of your nails? We painted them last week!”

“Yours are always chipped though,” I countered.

“I use the cheap stuff on purpose. I want people to know I actually work with my hands. I don’t use cheap paint for your nails. That stuff normally lasts at least a month. Reku! Got any Ideas?” Tulo called to his more cosmetic centered son for advice.

I was a little nervous as Reku put on thin chemical gloves and said ominously, “I have a few.”

So I sat there as my hair got trimmed and my fingernails were first stripped of paint, buffed, scuffed, then repainted, cured with ultraviolet light, then a sealing coat added again.

Tulo stepped away as I stood up from the barber’s chair. “Itaro, we did everything we could, but your boyfriend has a case of the crazy that I can’t cover up.”

Itaro smiled wolfishly. “How else would I want him?”

Itaro:

I could feel all my muscles coiled like springs.

“Where are we going?” Klein queried, his arm looped in mine, completely at ease with being led to parts unknown.

“Shopping for a swimsuit, you have a date with Au’tes tomorrow,” I teasingly revealed.

“Oh, do I now? I thought this was just so you could have me all to yourself?” Klein asked flirtatiously, and I had to again resist the urge to push him against the wall.

I shook my head to clear the images. “No, to be honest Au’tes feels a little left out in the relationship. Hario called in a small favor so you could have the day together before she heads off to selection.”

“What’s selection?” Klein’s tone shifted from innuendo laden breathy, to curious fact finding. I sometimes forgot that Klein didn’t grow up in the Shil’vati Imperium, his accent was now barely noticeable; he even referred to himself as ‘K’ien’ most days.

Nodding to myself, I gave him the quick rundown. “It’s a Youth’s Militia thing, though I’m surprised they haven’t spoken about it in the Auxiliary. They get the toughest girls and put them through a four-week evaluation course. The different Imperial, Interior, Militia and Auxiliary branches will then examine their performance and offer special contracts with officer commissions, or a direct opening to certain units after basic training, some come with paid-for exclusive university level education.”

“Sounds like the football [wind]- wait, that’s not the right word. Football [conscription] was a recruiting event for a Human sport, but the process was voluntary. So maybe tryout?” Klein mulled over the wording; face twisted in frustration.

I tried to change the subject before he became hyper-focused on the meaning. “Well, Au’tes has been harassing Hario to sign off her recommendation all year. I think she relented because with us, she’s not going to be able to hide from her family for much longer.”

“Doesn’t Au’tes hate the idea of military service though?” Klein asked, his thoughts now sliding towards a much darker issue.

“Yes, but the contracts give her options to get away from her family,” I explained.

“I wonder why she hasn’t told me this?” Klein mused pensively.

I opted to deflect the question and bring him back to the present. “You are a very recent development to a plan years in the making. How about you ask her tomorrow while along the beach?”

“Along the beach? Oh! We are going sailing!” Klein’s face lit up like a [thousand watt] light at the realization.

“Mhmm. Now, let’s find you that swimsuit,” I teased as I dragged him into the first store.

This was evil. Many of the swim clothes were built for vastly different body structures. The Shil clothes never fit him. Too loose in some places, and too tight in others, leaving nothing to the imagination.

We finally got one store manned by a wizened Shil couple during a slow time who offered to let us use their fabricator to create a made-to-order outfit, provided we gave them half the price upfront. The woman handed Klein the clothes, checked to see her husband wasn’t looking, then jerked her head for me to follow Klein. She whispered, “So he doesn’t have to tempt any of the other - non-existent - customers.”

I stood anxiously as I heard the rustle of fabric from behind the door, trying not to let my excitement get to me. When he finally stepped out I shamelessly stared at him. The long-sleeved silver shirt with high visibility patches stretched lightly over his muscles when he moved. Baggy shorts with tights underneath that covered the skin while again, showing off his body underneath.

It was claiming modesty without actually providing anything of the sort. He asked temptingly, “How do I look?”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I stepped into the dressing room and shoved him against the wall. Trying to pin him, but he pushed me back, and for an agonizing split second, I thought I had misjudged the whole situation.

Then he pulled me in as he leaned against the wall. Kissed me, and tilted head back to bare his neck before facing me again. The body language was unmistakable, ‘I can stop you if I wanted to. I don’t want to.’

The make out session was intense as could be without taking clothes off, still it was cut short when I heard the door open. “What in the goddess dammed name is going on here!”

“Trying out the new clothes?” Klein said guiltily.

“You! Furball! Out! And for you! Change back into your regular clothes before someone else sees you, damned stiff.” The old man was nearly blue in the face when he closed the door once I exited the dressing room.

“I should call the militia, molesting a poor Shil boy like that!” his eyes bore into me, and I locked up halfway in a mumbled apology to what he was implying.

“First of all, I’m human, not Shil! And we have a dating contract! Family already signed off!” Klein yelled through the door, and I nodded my head shaking off the false guilt.

His jaw shifted tusks flaring out in skepticism. “What’s a human? Never mind, you! Is this true? All public and official and not sneaking off with some [fast breeding animal]?”

I had managed to regain some of my composure while I opened my omni-pad and tapped the shortcut to the signed contract before turning it around to show him.

His eyes widened a bit. “Huh, you’ve been together for months now, and this was signed last week. Well, this ain’t a hotel! But I’m not going to fault a newly official couple for getting handsy. Now, I’m going to escort you two- What is that!?” The Shil man pointed at the now open dressing room door.

I followed his hand and felt my ears warm uncomfortably as I stared down at the small bruise on Klein’s neck. He tilted his chin up a bit so we could get a better view before saying, “A mark of pride.”

The old Shil man sighed. “Xenos and their damn men.”

Klein led me to the Gearschilde community center afterwards. Turning a few heads along the way. I waged a quiet war with myself, torn between embarrassment and pride. A lover’s mark was definitely something a male would show off, traditionally. Here though, some probably saw it as violent and backwards. Then again, there wasn’t any doubt Klein hadn’t consented as he nearly dragged me down the city’s walkways while holding my hand. Warding off any direct comments or questions. Though I got a few blushes from the Militia that passed us.

When we arrived, Cee’s receptionist waved us past without a second glance. Cee herself was in her office sitting behind a desk covered in synthetic foliage and stuffed creatures that wobbled across the tabletop. Her mechanical eyes squinted at Klein. “Itaro, can you sit-in for this checkup? I just need to ask some questions.”

“Uh... Sure.” I said hesitantly before stepping inside. Klein sat in the scanner chair while Cee closed the door, Klein was unperturbed by me being there.

“Klein, when was the last time you refilled your implant?” Cee asked, and it clicked for me why Cee seemed so concerned. The tiny bruise should have disappeared by now.

“Two days ago?” Klein questioned.

“Did you sustain any moderate injuries? Large sized bruises, deep cuts, or gored by another Shil’vati girl?”

“No? Just my usual sore muscles.” Klein was starting to get suspicious.

“Your implant’s color this morning was…” Cee said trailing her statement for Klein to finish.

“Yellow, I would have refilled it, but I ran out of serum vials this morning.”

Cee turned to me then. “Please understand I don’t mean to pry, but did you leave any other lover’s marks on him recently?”

“No! I’m honestly a little embarrassed I left anything,” I squeaked, still feeling the accusation from the old Shil man earlier.

“Don’t be! I enjoyed it!” Klein interjected for my benefit, albeit Cee didn’t seem concerned about propriety. She was silent as the display on the wall showed readouts from a tissue scan, shuffling through slides at an anxiety inducing speed. She slumped down into her chair then, looking defeated before sitting up again and addressing Klein. “Do you want Itaro to sit outside for our conversation on what I found?”

He shook his head. “If it’s that serious then she will need to know too.”

I nodded in agreement, I had been hesitant about coming in originally, but this was different. I needed to know if he was hurt somehow.

“Klein, your muscles are being strengthened faster than the sinew they are attached to. It’s causing an imbalance that your healing implant has been masking by constantly accelerating those repairs. However, at the rate you are going, in a year or so you will start to tear those tendons out before you fatigue.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t see this sooner. All the medical knowledge on humans I have found mostly concerns long term degradation, not medically accelerated rebuilding. The long term effects of modern medical technology are a completely unknown territory.”

“You need a few months to stop training and just focus on stretches. Even then, I would recommend a series of synthetic reinforcement injections to help prevent anything being torn afterwards.”

Klein was disturbingly, at least to me, unbothered about the prospect of months going through rehabilitation, and requiring not just one, but an undetermined number of injections with a large gauge needle. “I did promise Au’tes I would stop for a while after I got back anyways!” he admitted, chipper as ever.

Cee and Klein went over the rest of the checkup, but looking at how he responded I had to accept the fact that while his species may be human, Klein was also very much becoming a Gearschilde. That his body would change - possibly radically - over our relationship if we stayed together was disconcerting.

Cee gave him a new set of serum vials and sent us on our way. “I will see you in a week when I arrive on base!” she called as we left.

Klein kissed me one last time at the front of his house before heading inside. I decided to take the longest way home I could. We strolled through the docks and parks, past the herb gardens and half-finished roads, all the way into the small reservation next to my house.

All the while I was contemplating the last few days. Things were moving faster than I could process. I checked my omni-pad and still nothing from my siblings. My parents were involving me less in day-to-day life at home, and I realized I spent almost all of last evening and today being just around Klein.

When I got home my Kho’ mother Kalasha took one look at me, sent my siblings inside, and bade me to sit with her.

“Boy trouble?”

I scoffed before trying to find the words to explain my feelings. Finally I just blurted out. “Am I going to be pack-less soon? Everyone seems distant lately.”

Kalasha bent down slightly to look me in the eye. “That’s what this is about? No, you are not going to be pack-less. In fact, we’ve been running as much interference between you and your brothers and sisters as possible. Think of it as an apology of sorts.”

“Apology for what? And how is keeping my brother and sister from contacting me a favor?” I asked, annoyance grating on me.

“You had to grow up too fast and be a parent rather than our child. I hadn’t realized how much you have been handling childcare until you suddenly weren’t there.”

“They are my siblings! My pack,” I snapped in a harsh whisper, feeling betrayed.

“And you are the oldest sister, not their mother. I know you take after Hario, but she’s different. She never wanted a partner and is perfectly happy to run a gym and be [clan steward]. You went after Gitron right until he forced you to see what an entitled wet lint he was,” Kalasha countered, tapping her claws on the bench to punctuate her point.

Her face softened as she continued. “My old [girl pack] traveled and worked together for a long time before settling down with your mother and father. You found a partner very early in life, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t also be able to have fun. Your own family will come soon enough even if they won’t have Klein’s colored mane.”

I tried to process that, but I had really found Klein attractive because he had been deferential to my pack and was willing to be a caretaker. Today’s hair chewing incident proved that. “Thanks, but I’m going to the den to spend time with the rest of my pack while I still can.”

I grabbed my ratallan from my room before heading to the kids’ den. When I entered all their heads swiveled to me and they immediately started talking. I listened intently as they chittered at me non-stop about their day. Taking advantage of my undivided attention, and for the first time since I was a pup myself, I savored being there, knowing it wouldn’t be forever.

Chapter 30: Chapter 30

Chapter Text

Klein:

As I stuffed my new swimsuit into my duffel bag I received a message from Ruhal asking me to meet him in his office. These messages always made my gut sink with a feeling of trepidation. It was the informal code for a heavy discussion, possibly something drastic had changed.

I was still surprised when I walked in to see him in a semi-formal dress uniform with a pistol holstered to his leg, and holding a flanged mace made of a single piece of thermocast euphemistically called a ‘peacekeeper’. Its nigh indestructible construction allowed it to break bone through any soft armor, and the lack of shock, heat, or high speed meant that it wouldn’t trigger standard Shil’vati flexifiber armor to shift from soft textile to hard ceramic plate for the instant of a strike.

Ruhal smirked sourly as he flipped it over in his hand and offered me the handle without a word. I took it and read the inscription. The functional weapon also served as a secondary ID badge. The tooling to make it prohibitively expensive to fabricate a forgery. There was a Department of Interior ID number with a section for years served and a ‘relieved of service honorably’ tag near the bottom. The motto though, ‘cut the rot’, meant he had served in the Interior’s ‘’Enforcement of Noble Standards’ branch.

“You were an assassin!?” I exclaimed, nearly dropping the weapon in surprise.

“I prefer ‘garbage picker’, but yes,” Ruhal chortled.

I looked down at the weapon again. “Shouldn’t you keep this secret? I’d imagine you have made at least a few enemies of the houses you’ve… crossed.”

Ruhal laughed while looking wistful. “It’s a common plotline for both Humans and Shil, for the secret spy to have his work follow him home looking for vengeance, but it’s an easy lie to tell a story with. No, if anything, most of the noble families I killed members of were extremely grateful. I may or may not have gotten a few sincere marriage proposals during my tenure.”

Ruhal looked up and sighed at my uncomprehending expression. “Each system is ruled by thousands of gentry families arranged in a hierarchy. They are required to either govern the land themselves, or hire a suitable steward, providing a basic standard of living for their citizens.”

“When a matriarch - or more recently, patriarch - high up enough the administration ladder becomes… egregiously toxic, the lives of those under the governorship become impoverished and it destabilizes the region. That’s when someone like me would be given the case. I’d investigate, present my findings to a panel of Imperial judges who would make a verdict for me to carry out. In my [ten years] I had fourteen cases, resulting in nine arrests, four kills, and even a public coup for the grand finale.”

Ruhal shrugged, conceding, “I wasn’t a hero. The noble family installed a new, often meek, successor, the Empire was saved by a messy, possibly bloody, public scandal, and most importantly, the regular citizens had their basic services restored and stopped thinking about rebellion. After reaching the end of my [twelve year] service contract, I was discharged before I could become entrenched into Interior administration. I went into Naval intelligence afterwards. It was the only way to keep hunting down other monsters.”

I contemplated his lecture. It explained why he had a peacekeeper, why he was willing to display his time as an assassin so openly, but that left the root question. “Why are you telling me this now?”

He pointed at the weapon in my hand. “You will carry this instead of your shock baton while on the commando base. This annual wargame will have a lot of higher ups that think rank excludes them from the consequences of their actions. This will let them know harassing you will have costs even they can’t afford,” Ruhal answered with venom.

As I clipped the lighter, meaner, looking baton to my belt, he added more restrictions. “You won’t be able to walk on your own while on base. You need to be with someone you can trust, at all times.”

I nodded in acknowledgement as I got up, dryly remarking, “Speaking of which, I need to finish packing.”

When I got back to my room. I sat for a good hour looking over the peacekeeper while arguing with squirrel brain as I tried to slot this bit of knowledge into my view of the Shil’vati Imperium, and for once, something didn’t fit.

Au’tes:

“Have fun! I have no doubt that you will make us proud!” My mother encouraged me as she dropped me off at the shuttle port, completely unaware that Hario had bribed the flight crew with home baked goods and authentic fruit brandy to fly us on Shel break. I found myself thankful again for my mother writing me off as a soon-to-be buried war hero. It let me get away with a nearly blatant conspiracy to subvert her expectations, even so far as to fill out my own paperwork.

Inside the tiny shuttle port lobby was Ruhal, Reqellia, and Klein, each carrying a pack bigger than mine, with two extras at Klein’s feet.

“What a fortunate coincidence meeting you here,” Klein intoned mischievously before stepping over his pack to give me a quick embrace and peck on the cheek.

“I owe Hario a week of babysitting for this if she will take the favor,” I responded, pulling away while Ruhal and Reqellia stood nearby.

“How about we split that favor even between us? That way you can ensure I don’t go back on our promise,” he teased as our flight was called, hefting up his own two bags before the four of us made the short trek across the tarmac.

The shuttle ride was short and just like a dozen others I had ridden during field exercises over the years in the youth’s militia. Klein on the other hand took in the whole experience with unbound wonder. The quiet between us was more companionable than awkward, and I was more than comfortable with Reqellia and Ruhal talking in low whispers at the other end of the transport.

Landing in the massive spaceport complex of the ‘Silver Skulls’ - the only publicly listed commando base - we stepped off the ramp where two women greeted us in standard combat uniforms.

“Li’kele! I haven’t seen you since Mercy’s Blessing!” Klein called out as he excitedly ran down the ramp with all his gear.

“Little Fighter? Oof! Not so little anymore,” Li’kele grunted as Klein gave her a bear hug and lifted the woman a few [inches] off the ground.

“What’s brought you to our shuttle?” Klein asked as he dropped her lightly back onto the ground.

Taking a breath, she recovered from her Klein-induced stupor and explained, “I have an early arrival of a selection applicant. I got nagged by my higher ups to ‘volunteer’ as a proctor this year. Hela’s tit*, half my wives got signed on as proctors. Speaking of which, are you Au’tes Aultari Dis Sa’masa?”

I saluted, switching to my military etiquette. “Yes Sargent, I am.”

“Huh, the sponsor paperwork says here that you are ‘on leave’ until tomorrow?” Li’kele murmured.

“Oh! We are going on a date since the next month we aren’t going to be seeing each other.” Klein interjected.

Li’kelenearly dropped her slate. “D…Date!?” Li’kele said numbly before pointing an accusatory finger at Ruhal. “What in the Deep happened? It’s barely been six months and it looks like he’s done nothing but chug protein drinks and train to be a [gladiator], now with a girlfriend in tow.”

Reqellia proudly defended Klein’s apparent change. “He’s also a Pacer and learning to be a Gearschilde metalworker. He’s far more than a prize fighter.”

“So, you are the crazy boy I’ve been sentenced to teaching for the next two weeks! I’m Gamela, demolitions expert,” The other woman, Gamela, apparently, said in a Periphery lyrical cadence. As she put a fist out in greeting, her rolled up sleeves showed off a dozen patches of nearly white scar tissue that covered her arm. I had seen such badges of honor among my Militia instructors, commandos that had been willing to dive into claustrophobic spaces to set charges.

“Li’kele sent me some paperwork to finish this evening along with orders to report for morning roll call.” She ominously turned before speaking, “Enjoy your time off, applicant. The next four weeks will be brutal.”

“Can’t be worse than wrestling a dozen Rakiri pups for second helpings of dessert,” I joked.

Li’kele stopped and turned her head to look at me askance with a knowing smile. “If that’s how you have been trained, then I look forward to your performance during selection.”

Stretching her arms, Gamela proudly announced, “You can find me in the armorer’s shop, just knock first. This will probably be the last time I will be alone with my husband for weeks.” With that, she turned, and left us to our own devices.

It wasn’t long before Ruhal and Reqellia put our bags in the base’s autocab and directed us to the Morale Department where I signed for a sleek sailing sloop sized [twelve feet, four meters] in length with my mariner’s license. It was familiar, somewhere between a full-sized boat and my tiny dinghy at home. They helped me cast off the ropes and waved us goodbye before walking away back up the trail from the docks.

I let the mainsail boom out, gaining speed, smoothly racing along the calm bay. Klein gripped his seat tight as we hit the breaks at the mouth of the bay, the salt spray shooting up off our bow as we bounced in the now choppy water.

“Once we get past the wave break it will be a lot smoother!” I yelled over the surf. Klein gave the military hand signal for acknowledgement but stayed quiet as he stared out at the receding beach. I piloted us out deeper. The jagged surf became slow rolling hills of water. I bent, using my legs to swing the rudder out for a quick turn to bring us parallel to the shore and pulled in the boom’s line with my other hand, cinching it down in a quick release clutch.

Klein got up unsteadily from the tarp covered ‘cabin’ and sat next to me, letting himself drop as we crested the next wave. “How long have you been sailing?” he called. “I’ve never seen anyone dance at the helm like that before.”

No longer distracted by the minutiae of maintaining our course, I became aware that for the first time in my life, I was alone with a boy my own age since I was probably a baby. My cheeks went hot, but I could keep my tone even now. “My Kho’mother taught me when I was barely old enough to walk, she showed me the ropes in one of the local lakes. According to her, I would cry and scream until we went out, every day, for almost a year. How long have you learned how to fight!? I will never be as good as you with the baton.”

It was Klein’s turn to blush, red instead of my own blue. “A few months? Once I got into the rhythm I just practiced until each move felt right.”

That one small exchange of compliments broke the ice between us, and soon we were talking like it was one of our text chats. Klein got a little better with the tilt and sway of the ship and started to walk around in halting steps.

The hills of water became mounds, then flattened out as the late morning winds started to calm down. When I brought us closer to shore Klein wondered aloud, “Where are we headed?”

“There’s a chain of islands near the mainland. The recreation manager mentioned them while I was signing. We can stop there for lunch,” I explained. Our speed slowed as we rounded the corner of land and I had to fight into the low wind as we came to a sandbar barely poking out of the water. I brought us into the shallows before dropping the sail and anchor. The boat stopped moving with only a hint of a tug.

I thought the meal would be pre-packed rations in the small chest up front, but Klein pulled out slow cooked Turox stew and still warm spiced Kalta bread from the one bag he did bring onboard. “Had some time this morning.”

I melted on the inside. Home-cooked food was something I only got at Itaro’s house. In my own home it was always professionally made food by cooks I wasn’t even supposed to speak to. We ate in silence for a while, simply enjoying each other’s company, before Klein dropped a question, something he couldn’t ask in our usual text chats for fear of my family’s snooping. “How do you want to go about our relationship?”

I stopped eating. I couldn’t tell him my plan. I hardly knew it myself. It was still mostly shapeless with uncertainty. Instead, I tried clarifying his query with my own question. “What do you mean? Like with how to announce it to my family? Until I’m away from them I can’t tell them. It will drag you down into my mess.”

“With selection, if you get picked up by the military, you could be gone for a long time,” Klein spoke with a remorseful tone.

I smirked. It was sweet he was thinking forward about me, but thankfully, I had that choice pinned down already. “I’m not going into the military. I already put on my paperwork a preference for non-military branches. It limits my options somewhat and gives me less leverage with recruiters, but most girls who are willing to go through selection want a military contract. There are plenty of Auxiliary branches and Imperial divisions who would sponsor me, especially here on Sky.”

Klein leaned into me as a way of approval. The touch, the knowledge he felt safe, even comfortable alone with me broke a long held irrational fear that he was somehow still fragile, and I relaxed, letting my weight press back on him after a second.

I kissed him on top of his head, and then he wrapped his arm around me with a reassuringly strong squeeze. Klein knew the answer, but he asked anyway. “Off to another city afterwards?”

With a sigh I nodded. “We might not see each other every week, but I will still be in-system, and the three of us can stay together. To be honest, I don’t know how this will all work out, but you’re the first person who’s accepted me and Itaro.”

I could feel Klein’s mouth bunch up into a grin against my ribcage. “That’s because I have had no choice but to accept, well, everything. I didn’t even think any other sentient species existed besides humans a year ago and I didn’t know much past English. Now I can {pronounce proper High Shil}. I don’t know how it all happened so fast, but I will take it.”

We sat in silence together with the gentle wind, the slow sway nearly rocking us to sleep. We could have done anything out there, but it didn’t feel right for either of us.

After lunch, we simply stepped off the boat to lounge in the water half standing, half floating in the shade of the hull. Not really speaking just, existing, next to each other in the warm water as we pretended our immediate future full of wargames wasn’t about to happen. The wind died, and then shifted homeward with gaining force. Its change heralded that our moment of quiet was gone. I tapped Klein on the shoulder and made the hand signal to move. We hauled ourselves up, and I raised our sail slowly.

“Do you know any worker songs?” Klein belted out the question over the rustling wind, some of that manic energy I normally associated with him returning as the waves started to rise higher.

“Not really. I normally sail by myself!” I called back. Then, to my surprise, Klein half sung, half yelled, over the sea’s low roar, Grinder’s Wheel, an ancient Shil’vati milling song. I listened as I felt the lean of the ship, shifting my own weight as a counterbalance.

The words dissolved my melancholy, and I became energized as Klein continued with Storm-call and then followed up with Keel Work. It wasn’t great by any means, but it was understandable. He got out of the tarp covered cabin and sat next to me; the wobbliness of his legs gone. The level of the deck evened out, and started to lean against the wind with his body on the same side of the boat as me. “How much more sail can you let out with me helping?”

I considered the question before replying with my own. “How much do you weigh?”

He answered bluntly, but the lilt of snark was plain. “[255 lbs, 115 kg], but you know you shouldn’t ask a boy that!”

The old feral-ness of my blessing started tightening my muscles in anticipation. “Get up on the bench and hold the rope tight!”

We both leaned over the side as I let the sail climb all the way up the mast. Even with our combined mass, the now howling wind now lifted our side back up out of the water as we rocketed forward, almost flying over the cresting waves.

Klein held the line with both hands and hooked his legs underneath the opposite bench, arms bunching as he wrestled the boom in line with our keel. I distantly noticed my omni-pad going off, but didn't want to let go of the rudder to read.

I felt alive, nearly giddy by the overpowering smell of the salt spray and felt the sting as water droplets peppered my arms. The freezing air barely registered as a chill in the back of my mind. The distance that took us over an hour to reach the sandbar was now being chewed up rapidly. I spotted the mouth of the base’s recreation bay approaching fast.

Too fast.

I gripped the rudder, turning us in a soft arc towards the mouth of the bay. Threading the needle between the two rocky shores protecting the calm bay from the surf. I didn’t want to slow, not yet, but my hard-won sense of self-preservation was starting to win out against the joy of the moment.

“Klein when I tell you, drop the line and lay low!” I yelled as we crossed into the breaks again, the hills of water converting back to foam. Once we passed the mouth of the bay and the once slowing choppy stilled and our boat picked up ever more dangerous speed, the bow rising out of the water on the smooth surface of the bay.

“Now!” I yelled, and as he dove to the bottom of our little dinghy, I ducked my head low. The sail dropped and the boom whipped around passing near inches above me overhead. Our bow crashed back into the water as the hull settled. I was thrown forward and on top of Klein as the once ranging craft now sat motionless. I got up on my elbows, staring down at Klein, he looked up at me, in a movie perfect romantic moment.

Instead of an impromptu make-out session though, I suggested, “Want to go out again sometime?”

Klein levered himself on his elbows with a dopey smile plastered against his face. “Anytime you want.”

We untangled ourselves and I brought the us in with the recreation manager standing at the docks looking extremely perturbed. “You unfurled your sail during a squall alarm!?”

Me and Klein looked at each other, then I looked back at the woman staring down at us. “We didn’t capsize.”

“Goddess save them! I nearly had a rescue shuttle scrambled! You have lost base boating privileges, you’re lucky I’m not suspending your license for safety violations!” She yelled. I could see Ruhal and Reqellia walking down toward us nonchalantly.

“How long?” Klein quizzed, and the Rec manager sputtered.

“You lost them.”

I shrugged and stepped onto the dock, shivering as I finally registered the cold seeping into my bones. Klein looked no worse for wear though, even thanking the Rec manager still smoldering in her anger and frustration towards us.

Reqellia and Ruhal took us to the base proper, and I said goodbye to Klein with a hug and kiss before heading to the transient barracks. I took my own long walk around the empty halls that tomorrow would be a cacophony of yelling and movement, but now I could have some time to feel good about something. Klein had been Itaro’s boyfriend, he went with her to her aunt’s gym, they ate breakfast together. Itaro and Klein dressed up on dates and played the traditional roles, and that was something I had enough of at home.

Today, Klein became my boyfriend as well. A partner on the ocean, and I was more anxious to see what other trouble we could get up to than any obstacle course I might have to climb.

I had to do well, so well that I could stay near them. I had motivation, motivation for days.

Ruhal:

While Klein and Au’tes went on their date I sat quietly in Base Commander Ka’tasa’s office, acting as window dressing while the two old commandos caught up and traded their old stories. As I quietly delved into research on the Admiral requesting this insanity before I was inevitably sucked into the whirlpool Reqellia’s words pulled me back.

“How goes troop deployments with those new strength requirements?” This is what passed for small talk with Reqellia when she wasn’t at home. I sometimes forgot she was the more combat capable of the two of us when she spent most of our marriage a stay-at-home mother.

Ka’tasa’s face curdled. “Honestly? Bad. The new rotation is now only half a year in garrison for every year in the field, and that’s just for the regular shock troop commandos. The higher tier cloak and dagger operatives are at near constant utilization.

“Periphery raids?” I piqued up trying to steer the conversation now.

Ka’tasa’s polite face was now completely washed away. “Uluns, Edixi, Nighkru. “ She grumbled something under her breath before continuing, “The Alliance and Consortium are nipping at the border while our newest ‘liberation’ has had an outsized drain on our personnel.”

I drove home my questioning. “You mean Earth.”

Ka’tasa threw up her hands in exasperation. “Yes I mean the goddess-damned humans! They technically surrendered, but if anything, that’s made the fighting worse! The Admiralty wants me to double the detachment to that mudball just to ‘maintain order’ on a single planet!”

Reqellia tried to make light of the situation, but it only put in perspective how stark the contrast was since Reqellia left [ 20 years] ago. “Speaking from experience, I know how tough humans can be.”

Ka’tasa’s face colored slightly and she looked away, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, no offense to you or your adoptive son. I’ve been trying to keep my thoughts away from the report of the latest death camp we found that arrived with a shipment of fallen for burial. Thank you as well, it’s been a while since I have had someone else besides a subordinate to talk about this with.”

Reqellia got up to sit on Ka’tasa’s desk. “No offense taken, I get the difference. Remember our first Op together? A skirmish where we fought with the Alliance for a few days?”

Ka’tasa’s eyes went distant. “Goddess, and I thought that was convoluted. I was so naïve then.”

Reqellia shot me a somewhat accusatory look, then turned back to Ka’tasa. “How’s your husband and Kho?”

Ka’tasa laughed. “They keep messaging me to come home, then complain that I get underfoot.”

I left the two old war girls to chat while I sat in the officer’s lounge down the hall hunting for more information. While I scraped away hidden agendas, my thoughts turned to the disconnect between what Ka’tasa said and my own data I received from Earth compared to the official reports. It was like they were two different realities, and I knew marines were paying for it with their lives.

Reqellia and Ka’tasa came into the lounge to collect me a few hours later. Ka’tasa was far more relaxed even joking with Reqellia. “They pissed off my Recreation manager in record time, sober too!”

On the way to the docks Reqellia apologized. “Sorry to bring you in there, but I wanted to show her that I was happily married to give her some other reference point than her own life about what retirement looks like.”

I nodded. “Special forces is a young life. I take it she’s being sent to the dry dock?”

Reqellia confirmed candidly. “Yep, another year and she’s going to be reassigned to the Imperial Library as military liaison for classified material. This is her last big war game.”

Reqellia held my hand all the way back to comfort me. It was the changing of the guard. Happened every generation, and I wondered what stupid mistakes the new commanders would repeat now that we would be out soon.

My mood heightened significantly at the sight of Au’tes and Klein soaked to the bone, both with an expression that looked like they had just come from a Jrafell’s day festival.

“They are going to get themselves killed! Most of the new personnel have more common sense than those two,” the Recreation manager squawked like a father Ka’thelia bird over its young.

Reqellia couldn’t be prouder. “They seemed to handle the winds just fine, but it’s your call if they don’t have boating privileges. I’m sure they won’t get the chance past today anyways.”

With towels wrapped around each other they huddled close, far more comfortable with each other than when they left. I studied them through the reflection on the windshield while trying not to leer as we drove headed back to base.

They didn’t speak much, but years of interrogation training let me notice all the non-verbal communication. A light touch on the arm to get attention, the movement of the mouth and eyes for acknowledgement, pointing and hand signals. I had seen this with marine and commando teams I had been embedded with, but it was interesting to observe it outside a military setting. Even when we dropped Au’tes off, there were only a few spoken words between them, but a speech encapsulated in that second longer than normal hug and kiss.

I pulled more traits and stereotypes I had mentally categorized for other species and professions, then put them in the imaginary bin labeled ‘human’ that had become convoluted and self-contradictory as I only had a grand total of a single real world example.

I alerted Gamela that we were on our way. The acknowledgement came only a few minutes before we were at the Armory’s heavy armored door.

It swung open in an instant after knocking as a disheveled looking Shil man, I assumed Gamela’s husband, opened it. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” he hurriedly apologized. “I’m La’ta.”

We filed into the Armory’s office and area as La’ta hefted a sealed case up on the desk. Gamela came through one of the other doors leading to a spare armor and helmets storage. She exclaimed to herself, “Distance really does make the heart grow fonder!”

I turned and she cringed in embarrassment from her words. La’ta didn’t even blush as he explained to Klein. “I really hope I don’t need to modify the plates. It’s nigh-impossible to do without compromising integrity.”

As La’ta and Klein walked into what I could assume was a dressing room, Gamela tried to excuse her outburst. “Sorry I have a lot of Kho’ wives, and this is the first time we’ve been alone since our wedding night six months ago.”

I nodded and gave a small smile in acceptance. I wasn’t going to judge either of them. Barracks stiffs were a constant reality when so few males joined up, and the ones that did weren’t the ones that wanted to settle down.

“It fits! Thank the goddess! I thought I was going to have my work cut out for me,” the voice said through the door as it opened up. I turned-

And nearly toppled backwards from the sight.

In the doorway stood a life-sized version of the Krieg figurine on my desk. The beak-like death mask with the monstrous too-big eyes lidded by a helmet. The cheery question came through distorted by the mask.

“How do I look?”

I took a slow, steadying breath, and examined the person in front of me. On top of his head was a crest of Gearschilde metallic feathers. The Pauldrons had my family’s colors on them. The gauntlets were shipyard worker’s style with Rakiri embossments depicting family life. Instead of a gray iron breastplate, there were dozens of articulated plates more akin to Human knight’s or Shil gladiator armor.

The mask still chilled my blood, a caricature of Humanity’s first unification war that had been nothing but endless attrition. Fictionalized and exaggerated until it was a death cult. I gave a wan smile and an honest answer. “You look terrifying”

Gamela’s easy stance and friendly conversation was borne of ignorance. “Well it fits. Tomorrow we will go through all the safety with a real ship-cutter, then I will let you loose on some decommissioned hull plates for practice.”

I was dimly aware of people talking around me, but all I could see in my head was Klein’s face, and the death cult mask overlaid. What was I raising? What happened to the half-starved boy innocently asking questions not a year ago? Did my unspoken prayer get answered by Niosha, the trickster goddess? Offering me a killing machine with a child’s complexion?

“Dad?” I looked up to see Klein, again in his semi-frilled clothes, makeup, jewelry and my peacekeeper holstered at his belt like I asked. He also wore concern plastered on his face, and all at once the anxieties in my mind dissolved. “I’m fine, just lost in thought was all.”

On the way back to our visiting family suite I trailed behind Reqellia and Klein as they chatted about the days ahead excitedly. My fear reformed into understanding. Klein was still that boy I had met, just stronger and with a hobby of baton fighting. When attacked on the street, he had restrained himself from dealing anything more than minimal incapacitation blows. He was no more a monster than Reqellia was, and both less so than me.

My mouth tugged into a vicious grin, if anyone tried to abduct Klien here, I’d make sure they wished I had just shot them.

Chapter 31: Chapter 31

Chapter Text

Agent Militai:

I reveled in the near silence and dim lights in my little suite aboard the Skyline II. I had spent the last two months working myself to near death as I tried to catch up on several months worth of delayed reports, while also routing the entirety of the Interior group that had tried to hoard all possible data on Earth for lucrative dealings.

For the first time since I arrived in the core worlds, my slate and omni-pad were quiet. The only noise was the hum of the ship around me as it phased through space to the planet Sky. I had transformed my vacation into a trap, officially stating I was returning to Earth so if any remnants of the Interior group tried to get revenge they would find themselves within arm’s reach and end up with a real knife in their back for their betrayal. I would see to it, personally.

I really hoped I wouldn’t have to cut my time short though. I needed a break before I ended up like some of my former colleagues. Mentally breaking and locking themselves in a room with enough narcotics to tranquilize a Turox.

It was noon ship-time before I even got out of bed and lounged on the cabin’s small couch with the lights still low. Thoughts of future plans and possibilities started to resurface from my brain fog. I powered up my slate and began the mediative work of crafting future towns and cities out of thin air with nothing but words.

My slate threw a warning message. Someone on board this ship had accessed my reports. A chill ran down my spine. Was it Doctor Lital? Goddess, once I had scratched away the legitimate credentials he had, I found nothing but the void to corroborate his personal logs. Dr. Lital was a person made up only months before, and whose real identity was very possibly the man who created the living exo program of military myth. If he was on this ship, the next few days were going to be terror-filled, trapped with a monster wearing a man’s body.

I let out a sigh of relief as I read, even as my gut sank in less immediate worry. The credentials had been from a member of the Bio-ethics Enforcement Division. I even knew who this particular agent was, Justice For The Desecrated, one of only a dozen Gearschilde Hunters alive. Justice had been searching for the man once known as Dr. Lital, and if he had boarded this ship, then Dr. Lital had already arrived on Sky.

Nothing to be done about it now.

Klein:

I sat on the bench, reading the messages on my omni-pad for the tenth time as a distraction from the impending showdown. I bounced my leg in nervousness as my helmet jostled in my lap with its giant gas-mask eyes staring back up at me.

“[Fifteen minutes] Klein, time to get moving.” Gamela stood up and put on her helmet. I did the same, cinching down the straps of the facepiece that compressed the flexible rubber-like air seal against my skin. The HUD came up and ran a quick diagnostic before the wall of text disappeared, replaced with a mission timer, air monitor, and suit integrity map. I locked the neck secondary seals and activated the small SCUBA system that would give me about an hour of air to breathe under exertion.

I inhaled, tasting icy oxygen being fed to my mask. My skin broke out in gooseflesh as my suit cooled to near freezing temperatures using the liquid oxygen as a cold sink, while partly warming the cryogenic fluid with a secondary heater to prevent my lungs being turned to ice-cubes.

Gamela opened a canister of helium for leak testing. If my suit had any microtears, the helium weasel in, and get picked up by my air quality monitor. I dreaded hearing each click of the checker. A tear would mean we’d have to delay for at least an hour to find and repair the break. I had lost an entire day of practice trying to find a rip in my suit when it turned out to be just a misaligned seal on my arm.

I stowed my omni-pad reluctantly after reading a group message which explained that I would be ‘on stage’ soon and started performing stretching exercises that Cee had insisted on. I had complained that the Shil didn’t need to, but Gamela had insisted that I listen to my doctor. While I tediously went through the motions, I distracted myself with future schemes.

Itaro was busy again without me there to steal her away. Her family occupied so much of her life that most of her texts revolved around her siblings struggles, her kho’mothers jobs, her father’s gossip, and Hario’s antics.

Though, at least one of the messages everyday was at just a bit descriptive on what she would do to me once she got her hands on me again. Not that I minded one bit. Goddess, our last date had been fun. After the last two weeks, I was looking forward to getting kicked out of other stores for public displays of affection.

Au’tes’s messages were the polar opposite. She had admitted that until our time sailing, she hadn’t really believed we would be compatible. Her short and polished messages before had been to keep things friendly while emotionally at arms length. Now that she felt comfortable with me, the dam broke and she had spent the last two weeks unspooling her thoughts on digital paper for me to parse. The safe topics we had discussed before dropped away as the military secure feed afforded us privacy, at least from her maelstrom of a family.

My heart bled a little each day when I received a rambling message from her with all its typos and grammar mistakes. I knew she was exhaustedly typing in her cot trying to explain her life in the hour or so she had at the end of the day before the need to sleep overtook her.

In some ways she had it worse than my time on Earth. There, at least no one expected anything from me when I had been an unseen pariah. The paradoxical expectations and taboos of being the only one in her family’s generation to be ‘Hela blessed’, to be held in esteem as a future war hero while also to be written off as half-feral berserker, would have driven me insane.

I was even more glad I hadn’t pushed anything on our time alone. She had been so wound up that even a quick make-out might have been one complication too many for her to deal with. Not that it had been easy, I was still thinking about Au’tes’s lips when Gamela spoke up and knocked me back to reality.

“All seals are good, and your suit passed the helium leak check, how’s your breathing?” Gamela asked, her face obscured by glare on her helmet.

“I can breathe perfectly fine, but I really want to get started. It’s freezing!” I snapped as my attention returned to how numb my skin was.

“You will be thankful for the pre-chill in five minutes. Get in position!” Gamela ordered as she pointed at the door. I stomped over to the arena’s entrance and fitted my arm through the straps of a large riot shield, and checked that my thumb could hit the quick release trigger. I rehearsed my movements again, letting my hands shake in the cold, trying not to bounce in pent-up energy.

When the timer hit one minute I bent down and picked up the two cases carrying my real weapons. Ruhal had jokingly labeled them hi there! and dear john in hopes someone in the crowd would dig through human movies for the reference.

The timer hit zero and everything seemed to stop.

.

..