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Future Sanctuary By Goliath Wildcat

Chapter 5 For Honor and Understanding Vorga is waiting outside her door when Yamoti opens her door calling, "Fetch me some food and drink!" The young tender stationed outside her cabin runs off to comply with her demands as Vorga steps in and drops to one knee before her, his eyes focused on the floor as she strips off her night-shirt and starts to bathe herself with a basin of water and a sponge. "What is it Vorga? You usually don't disturb me so early in the day."

Snapping a salute with a flick of his right shoulder tentacle he reports, "The new Alpha Captain has asked if the Ambassador is to be given free run of the ship?"

She glances over her shoulder at him, "What is disturbing her so? I don't see how one Ambassador, even an alien one, could cause her much worry over security no matter what weapons he carries. What is he going to do, incite mutiny among the crew who are all loyal hands of the High Mother?"

"He appears to be... training, for lack of a better term, on the main deck where quite a few of the crew are staring rather than doing their assigned tasks. She asks if it is possible for him to be a distraction somewhere else, out of sight of the crew if possible."

Turning back to her bathing she asks, "Have you seen him this morning?"

"Yes Commander, Tambir was trying to keep the crew at their tasks, but she is only one warrior and the main deck is rather large. He was... moving in strange ways." His eyes still on the floor he gives his head a slight shake, "It is no training I can recognize, but I also can think of nothing else that it can be. His motions are like the currents of air that buffet our vessels. Gentle yet with an underlying strength that can tear the toughest sails and shatter the strongest hulls if they hit the right place at the right instant. If he trains in such a way each day, it is no wonder he was able to take down even armed members of your honor guard without a weapon."

Pulling on a pair of black pants she snatches a robe of blue that matches her fur embroidered with metallic silver thread from a hook on the wall. With a twirl of the cloth and a cinch of the belt around her waist she glances down at Vorga, "Come, let us see what it is he does together, I am intrigued to see how he gains such skill at unarmed combat."

Without another word she walks around the kneeling guard who leaps to his feet and follows her close behind, the guard outside her door snapping to attention as they pass. The young tender returning with the Commander's breakfast on a covered wooden tray bows to her. "Leave it in my cabin," she orders with a casual flick of a tentacle.

***

In the open air of the main deck the young female honor guard has given up on her efforts to keep the crew at their work and simply tries to keep them out of the way of the star traveler, the "human" as he calls himself.

Wearing only a pair of loose pants, his smooth and bare flesh rippling with muscles not unlike a typical male Rathac's as he goes through his exercises. His slow and steady breathing is like the steady whoosh of a forge's bellows. His movements unlike any combat style she has ever seen, yet containing a similarity to the way water will course through a riverbed's rocks or the winds play through the trees. She finds it beautiful, but filling her with a sense that this male is not one to be taken for granted and much like Honor Lead Vorga, one not to judge on size alone.

As Commander Yamoti appears on deck most of the crew scamper to find their work far more interesting than the human and Tambir snaps to attention.

The blue furred female waves a tentacle for the young warrior to stand at ease and watches the ambassador. She too finds his movements to be almost hypnotic as he combines slow and natural motions with quick punches and kicks that are faster than the eye can easily follow. His movements slow with a long exhalation of breath. Standing up straight he walks to the railing and grabs a towel hanging there to wipe the sweat from his face and body. He turns to face her and gives a nod of respect and a closed lip smile, "Good morning Commander Yamoti, what can I do for you this bright morning?"

"What were you just doing?" she asks, her ears quirked in curiosity.

He nods in understanding, his gaze sweeping the deck and crew, a sheepish look crossing his face, "I apologize. I didn't realize it would be such a distraction. That was just my morning Kata workout."

She tilts her head, her ears still quirked in curiosity as she repeats the unfamiliar alien word, "Kata?"

"A series of movements that help me train for a human art of combat from our long lost homeworld. It also helps to promote flexibility and is a good form of exercise," he explains as he drapes the towel over his shoulders and gripping the ends looks up at the tall female warrior. "Interested in learning the basics?"

She scratches at one ear with her left tentacle while rubbing her chin with her hand as she considers, "Maybe once we've returned to our homeport and you have had your first meeting with the High Mother and her advisors." She looks out to the horizon and points with her right tentacle, "There, you can just barely see the port on the horizon."

Reaching into the sports bag on the deck he pulls out a small pair of binoculars and peers through it at the smudge on the horizon, "Quite a settlement indeed. This is the homeport of your great fleet you say?" "And the home of our High Mother and the advising counsel, she is quite interested in meeting you."

He lowers the binoculars and nods as he enjoys a deep breath of clean un-recycled air, "I look forward to meeting with the High Mother, she sounds like quite a leader from how you all have spoken of her."

***

Running footsteps echo through the hallways of the palace before an armored messenger slides to a halt and kneels before the table where Talri and Tirgale dine on a simple breakfast in their private wing of the High Mother's palace. "High Mother, consort, the fleet is in sight on the horizon. They are flying the pendants for a successful mission."

Talri smiles as she settles back in her chair, "This is good news, don't you agree Tirgale?"

The male bows his head to her, "Indeed High Mother, we should convene the council to meet the Ambassador of these travelers from another world."

"I agree," she motions for the messenger to rise to his feet with the lifting of one tentacle, "Alert the councilors to be in the great hall in half a segment, we have visitors to greet."

With a crisp salute of tentacle to forehead the messenger backs out of the room and soon the booted feet can be heard running down the halls again to spread the message.

Talri raises her glass to her mate, "To a peaceful meeting with the Ambassador."

He returns the salute with his own glass and gives her a smile, "Indeed my love."

***

The crews of the massive lodeships of the Denguard fleet leap across the narrowing gap, thick ropes in hand to make the slowly moving vessels secure to the piers with practiced ease.

Yamoti leaps with practiced ease to the dock despite her heavy armor, most of her honor guard following her like a tail. Jim watches from the railing as orders are given by one of the honor guard and the crowds gathered to welcome the fleet home are pressed back by the blue uniformed soldiers along the wharf. Yamoti gives simple gestures of her hands and tentacles, signaling several of her red armored guards to detach themselves and assist the guards on the docks.

Turning from the sight on the pier Jim disappears below decks and slips into the former captain's room. He frowns at the items spread over the bed and shakes his head, "Never thought I would have to go to a diplomatic event armed for war."

A resigned sigh slipping from his lips he lets the loose robes slip off his shoulders and drapes them on the bed as piece by piece, he starts to pull on his tactical gear. The body armor conforms to his body and fits like a second skin, the reactive material supple and flexible, but rigid at the impact of any known energy or projectile weapon. His black uniform with ammunition and equipment pouches goes over the reactive material, the tactical harness and sidearm holster snapping into place with quiet clicks. Taking his MK-34 blaster pistol from its case he slips a charge pack into the handle and verifies the charge status before he settles it in the holster and secures the retaining strap. His MK-60 blaster rifle gets similar attention before he places it back on the bed and picks up one of the two new additions to his ensemble.

Within the three foot long scabbard is the answer the engineers were able to come up with to the recommendation of a sword. Gripping the handle he pulls the blade free from the black plastic and watches as the embedded circuitry glows with energy. They had not just given him a piece of steel with a monomolecular edge, they had reformed a power-blade machete into a katana that would cut through almost anything, even his own reactive armor. With a grunt he slams the sword back into the scabbard and slings it across his back, "I shouldn't need this."

He takes the shortfang Yamoti had given him during their first encounter and studies it. The squared barrel and simple frame distinguish it from any human weapon. But he has used it and knows it is as effective as a 2mm railgun with a little more kick then normal due to a lack of compensators. He checks the slim magazine and studies the tiny darts of dull metal, a material that seems to power most of their technology. Somehow it generates its own gravitational force and can not only lift the massive ships, but also propel slivers of itself to a noticeable fraction of light-speed.

Loading the magazine into the shortfang he places it back into its holster before strapping the whole rig to his left thigh. Checking the feel of the rig he flexes and adjusts the straps till the odd rig settles into a more familiar and comfortable presence.

Pulling on his helmet he secures the chin strap and checks as the built in tactical systems link with his weapons' computers. Retrieving his rifle from the bed he returns to the deck of the Burning Wind. Resting the blaster rifle against his shoulder he looks once more around the docking area. "I think there's more of the felines here then when I went to get dressed," he mutters to himself. He notices several figures on the pier pointing up at him, but any words are lost in the din of the crowd.

Giving the crowd a quick and assessing glance he leaps from the ship to land on the pier, rifle held easily in one hand as he slowly stands from the crouch he landed in. A wave of silence travels through the crowd as they take in their first clear view of a human and his strange garb.

Yamoti gives him the smallest of nods, "You look the intimidating Ambassador now Jim Ward. Though your weapons are strange to our lands they are close enough to know what they are, and there is no mistaking your stance as that of a competent warrior."

Raising the barrel of his rifle to the sky, the barrel resting against his shoulder, he looks up at her, "I'm still not sure this is such a good idea, but if you insist this is how your society does such things, then very well."

She nods again with a slight upturn at the corner of her mouth, "Indeed it is." She waves to a group of six legged reptilian creatures, "Can you ride?"

He looks over the seemingly docile creatures, "Never had things like that to ride, but I'm sure I can learn."

"Vorga!" she calls and the Honor Lead rushes forward to kneel before her. "Take Ambassador Ward to the Thar and assist him in getting settled. The Reserves were called up and are lining the approach to the Palace. We will ride there and let the populace get a view of our new companion here."

He snaps a quick salute and stands to give Jim a respectful bow, "This way please Ambassador."

They walk over to one of the mounts and Vorga grips the harness strapped to the creature's head and neck, "Put your foot here and grip the saddle here," he indicates with his tentacles. "Then pull yourself up into the saddle and grip the reigns, your feet go into the loops of the saddle for stability. This is a fairly docile mount and shouldn't give you any troubles."

Jim strokes a hand over the large reptilian beast and is surprised to find the hide soft and warm rather than hard and dry. He puts his foot on the indicated peg, grips the sturdy saddle, and pulls himself up with a grunt of exertion in the heavier gravity. Settling into the saddle with care he finds it quite comfortable and the creature between his legs takes the addition of his weight without even a grunt of discomfort.

Vorga nods and gives a toothless smile, "See, it is easy Ambassador. Always remember to mount from the left side. That is how they are trained and what they are used to. Mounting from the right can spook the creatures, they are quite simple beasts." He hands him the reins and pantomimes as he explains, "To turn, pull the reins on the side which you want the beast to turn. To stop, pull them up towards yourself, but not too hard, or the beast might raise up and throw you off. To go forward, encourage her with a kick of your heels."

Jim nods with understanding, "Seems simple enough."

Yamoti leaps to the back of her own animal with practiced ease and directs the creature over next to Jim's, "You look good on a Thar, Ambassador. The people will see you riding beside me and know you are of some importance. The reserves and my Honor Guard will escort us to the home of the High Mother."

"Sounds like a plan," he says as he starts to maneuver his mount with much fumbling and tugging of the reins. Pulling up next to her he settles into the saddle as the red armored Honor Guard, now mounted on their creatures, form a wedge in front of them and take up flanking positions beside and to the rear. Ceremonial, yet functional, pikes are passed up to the red armored warriors by attendants, Yamoti's personal banner streaming from the ends in the light breeze.

Blue armored reservists hold back the crowds, keeping the broad roadway clear as the mounts slowly make their six legged way towards the large palace visible over the skyline of the city.

The crowds on either side cheer with exultation at the parade of armored and mounted warriors and the lone human riding in their midst. Yamoti raises a tentacle to wave towards the crowds gathered to see them.

Jim watches the crowd on either side of the wide boulevard and sees a wide variety of fur patterns and colorations. A sea of colored fur and waving strips of brightly colored fabric shows people from all walks of life from what he can see.

A commotion amongst the crowd draws the attention of a few of the blue armored reservists towards the shadowed corner of a building set back a little from the road. "What is going on?" Jim asks Yamoti who shakes her head as baffled by the reaction as he is. The crowd scatters away from the focus of the reservists as feline screams of panic and roars of fear fill the air punctuated by the sharp cracks of railgun fire.

A female with brown fur, no taller than five feet, hefts a large rifle and points it at the parade of armored figures, "For the Republic!!!" Her finger jerks savagely on the trigger and sends several rounds out on wild trajectories as she doesn't even bother to aim the oversized weapon. Two blue armored reservists fall screaming as rounds pass clean through their light armor, leaving bloody mists from impacts on arms and legs. Several more cracks sound as random shots impact the buildings on the opposite side of the street, raining debris and dust on the crowd below. Screams of pain and fury join those of panic as other shots arc into the crowds as they scatter from the attacker.

Several of the honor guards pull their mounts between the attacker and Yamoti as a living shield while others pull their longfang rifles from their saddles and try to get a clear sight of the shooter, but Jim has another idea.

With the random fire he guesses the female can't be trained enough to hit a moving target. So he kicks his mount out of the mass of armored riders with a, "HYAA!!!"

Yamoti screams, "Jim, don't!" a hand reaching out for him, imploring his return to the wall of armored bodies and safety.

The would-be assassin tracks his movement but her shots go wide as she fails to properly lead her target or prepare of the recoil. Snapping his rifle to his shoulder he flicks the safety off with his thumb, the weapon hums with the contained fury of a star as the power core ionizes the ammo into plasma. The HUD inside his visor shows the glowing red crosshairs focus on her shoulder and with a gentle squeeze he fires a single concentrated bolt of sun bright ionized energy into the bare shoulder of their attacker.

The young Rathac female's mouth opens wide in a shocked and silent scream as the gun falls from nerveless fingers, a smoking wound smelling of charred flesh and burned fur punched through her shoulder by the high powered ion rifle's precise bolt. Looking at the wound in shock she drops to the ground, her good hand clutching the charred flesh of her shoulder as she finally finds her voice and starts to let out a high pitched feline wail of pain.

Lowering the faintly glowing muzzle of his rifle Jim yanks on his mount's reins to bring the creature to a halt. Turning he looks to Vorga and nods towards the brown furred female, "Take her alive, I have questions." Vorga snaps a glance of confirmation to Yamoti who nods in agreement before he and two of his fellow guards leap from their mounts to approach the screaming female. Pulling his katana-like blade from its scabbard he smashes her with the flat, knocking her senseless before his fellow guards bend to the task of securing her limbs with lengths of a tough fiber.

Some members of the crowd step forward to help the injured; the new silence is broken only by the cries of the wounded or the wails of those clutching the injured to them. Jim lets his rifle rest once again on its sling before he pulls up beside Yamoti again, "What was that all about?" The blue furred female speaks low enough so her voice reaches only his ears, "It was ships from the Republic of Dilar who attacked us at our first meeting. We know they have operatives in the cities, it's impossible to identify them all without going to extreme and violent measures. Such things the High Mother would never permit her people to do or allow the innocent to experience. Some think they fight for freedom, but in the Republic," she shakes her head in disgust, "It is well known among most of our people that only the rich are truly free. But there are always those few who are subverted by some imagined slight or the barbs of fate."

"Who was the target do you think, you?" he studies her through his visor and she finds the distorted reflection of her own visage looking back at her disturbing, "Or me?"

"Perhaps, both of us," she states with worry, her tail twitching in agitation and her ears folding back into her thick silver hair.

He nods in agreement as he watches a double line of blue armored figures approach, most of them carrying longfangs in addition to their swords or pikes. The leader with his plumed helmet bows to Yamoti, "Commander, are you well?" He casts a sideways glance at Jim on his own mount next to the Commander, the air over his rifle's barrel still wavering from heat radiating from the red hot metal within the cooling baffles.

"Yes, but two of your men have been injured and an unknown number of innocents I'm sure. That assassin was ill-trained, and caused more chaos and confusion than posing an immediate threat to myself. Check on them while we continue to the High Mother's Palace." The officer opens his mouth to argue but Yamoti fixes him with a gaze that could start a forest fire, "You have your orders."

With the briefest hesitation the officer bows his head in subservience and snaps a salute with his tentacle before he shouts to his men, "Fan out and check the wounded. You and you, go for Menders to heal the injured..."

Yamoti turns her mount back towards the road and with a circling of her arm the honor guard forms up around her again, Vorga with a bound and unconscious prisoner over the front of his saddle. "To the Palace with all haste," she orders and lowers her arm, hand pointing towards the massive structure in the center of the city.

Several of the guards break off to form a flying wedge to part the crowd as they kick their mounts into a run, the others forming a shield wall around their Commander and the human Ambassador where they follow in the wake. With halfhearted cheers from those in the crowd not scattered, the company of armored figures ride for the Palace of the High Mother with all speed.

***

As they approach the ornate silver gates of the palace several guards wearing red armor trimmed in silver open the massive doors for the charging riders who pull their mounts to a stop in the massive courtyard beyond. Jim slides from the saddle of his mount and pats the creature's thick neck as several of the other warriors do. Casting his gaze around the structure he is surprised to find something he would call an interesting blend of architecture from Earth.

The outer curtain walls are thick stone capped by what are obviously battlements, obviously built to be functional, but within and rising high above are intricate and flowing structures. The roofs are covered in a scale pattern of tiles and the lines arch up at the corners. All the buildings have wide porches on the ground floor, with one of more towers that must stand more than ten stories tall rising from every building. Yamoti approaches and waves a tentacle towards the largest and grandest of the structures, "Up there, is where we watched your arrival from the Black beyond the sky. You were thought at first to be only a falling stone, but we soon realized otherwise. The High Mother ordered me to find your landing point and see if anyone survived to speak with us."

He nods, reaching up to retract his visor into his helmet with a casual gesture, "And now here I am, the Ambassador you sought."

She smiles in that closed mouth way of her people and gestures towards the structure, "Come, I am sure the High Mother is eager to meet you."

Stepping beside her they head for the steps leading up to the porch of the indicated building. The guards flanking the doors snap to attention before opening the wide doors to grant them access to the interior. Yamoti returns their crisp salutes with brief flicks of her own tentacle as they pass pairs of guards in their red and silver armor, pikes held vertical at the ready.

Vorga follows with the bound assassin thrown over his shoulder, a few guards move to stop him and take her but a single glance from the black and red furred male sends each of them back to their posts. Despite his armor and burden he moves with the grace of a dancer and the determination of a tank as he trails his Commander and the Ambassador of the Humans.

Reaching a pair of silver and gold inlaid doors the guards do not step back, opening the way for them, but instead cross their pikes barring the doors from being opened. The female on the left gives a small nod to Yamoti, "I am sorry Commander Yamoti, Firstborn of the High Mother, but you know we must take all longfangs and shortfangs from visitors before they enter the court of the High Mother." She looks over to Jim, "Even this, no matter what it is."

Jim gives her a crooked smile and remembers the brief lessons Yamoti gave him in how to react to the citizens of her land, "I am a human, and I would not call me 'it' again if you know what's good for you."

Vorga smiles briefly from behind the pair as the guards glance to each other before they both give the slightest of bows to him, "I apologize, Ambassador for the Humans, I did not mean to disrespect."

Jim returns the slightest of nods before he pulls the holster with his pistol from his tactical rig and holds it out to the guard on the right, "Forgiven, and I can understand the rule of taking ranged weapons from visitors who wish to see your ruler."

With wary movements the guard takes the holster and sets it on a shelf behind her. She adds his rifle and the shortfang Yamoti had given him as he hands them over one-by-one. "Don't touch my weapons till I come back for them. I'd hate for someone to get injured by messing with something they don't understand."

"That is an order," Yamoti adds with a soft growl and the two guards bow in silent respect.

Uncrossing their pikes the guards draw the heavy doors open and the two of them advance into the court of the High Mother while Vorga and his burden wait outside.

The open room is bright with sunshine as a massive crystal skylight in the roof lets in more than enough to brighten the room decorated in a white stone with veins of cobalt color running through it. The edges of the room are filled by lesser advisors and court officials wishing to see the first meeting between the High Mother and this strange visitor from another world.

On the raised dais near the far end sits Talri, her blue fur shining with health in the bright light and her ceremonial robes of blood red spread around her as she sits relaxed on her throne. Her cascading silver hair seems to sparkle in the sun as she turns her head to her right and whispers a comment to Tirgale. The white and black stripped male nods in agreement and returns a quiet response. On her other side the gray furred Kirant glowers at the Ambassador, his brows wrinkled as if he's staring at a disgusting bug rather than a warrior who is from a culture which travels to other stars with technology as far beyond their understanding as their lodeships are beyond a dung-cart.

Yamoti stops and bows to her mother, "High Mother, may I present the Human Ambassador, Jim Ward," she flourishes her hand towards him. "He is a great warrior of the humans and comes before you in friendship."

He bows towards the seated ruler and puts his fist across his chest in salute to her.

She sits forward on her throne and studies the man before her with blue eyes so much like her daughter's, full of curiosity and intelligence. "We are pleased to great you Jim Ward of the Humans. It is doubted by some that you truly do come from beyond the sky and stars, from another star in fact. I would ask you, is it true that you have traveled such an unimaginable distance?"

"It is High Mother," he answers with a clear voice speaking their tongue. There are murmurs of surprise from the onlookers in the chamber and Talri sits back in surprise having expected her daughter to have to translate somehow.

Old Kirant steps forward and pointing at Jim with an aged hand demands, "By what witchcraft do you speak our language?"

Jim looks the old male in the eye, "By the witchcraft of your own healers, not by any witchcraft of my own people."

Again murmurs surge from the crowd like waves on a beach. Yamoti takes a single step forward, "It is true," she states in a loud voice that silences the crowd. "The Ambassador saved me when we were attacked on the plain of meeting. The Republic of Dilar stuck with such surprise that I was stunned to inaction by it. His actions kept me from being killed by a lucky Swarm that spotted us on the ground. The Captain of the Burning Wind decided the Ambassador had no right to save me the way he did and attacked him. The injury was mortal, and if I had not given of my own vital to save him, the Menders could have done nothing and our relations with the Humans would have died with him." She bows her head to the High Mother, "And I fear with his death his people, who we have seen fight with light, would have decimated the Dengaurd Fleet as easily as we would smash a bug."

Kirant stares at her in shocked disbelief, "Why? Why would you use your own vital, and not one from a lesser line?"

Yamoti glares at him, her blue eyes flashing as she snaps at the old male, the fur along her tail bristling at his challenge, "Because it was MY honor at stake, not theirs! It was MY choice, and I made it."

Kirant points towards Jim again, his voice raising to a hysterical pitch, "You have soiled the noble vital of our holy family, it must be cleansed. If you are worthy of being of the line, you can prove it now!"

Everyone in the chamber looks towards the old priest in stunned silence. "What are you doing Kirant?" demands Tirgale from the other side of the shocked Talri. "This is madness you old fool!" he snaps at the old priest, not bothering to hide his fangs in his disgust.

The old muzzle snarls back at him, "What needs to be done to keep our people pure!" Pointing towards the human again and shouting, "If he is to have the vital of our rulers in his veins, he must prove he is worthy of such an honor!"

Talri looks at her old mentor and with a hoarse voice asks, "You know what it means if he beats your challenge? And you know what it costs if he loses? They are a new people to our lands and we don't know how they will take the death of their Ambassador. You heard my daughter's concern that these people will retaliate if we are responsible for the unprovoked death of their Ambassador."

The old priest drops to one knee next to Talri, "We don't need him or his kind High Mother. There can't be more than a handful of them after such a crash and will pose no risk to our armies, no matter what sorcery they use to fight. His presence will only pollute our people, as he has polluted your noble family's vital. This will prove it to you; let the Spirits guide prove this to you through my actions here and now. They tell me that this creature and his kind are not worthy to breathe the same air as us, and we should start by making an example of him."

He turns his hateful gaze on Jim, "But most importantly, he truly is not worthy of bearing the vital of your family." His fangs are bared in a snarl at the Human who stands his ground before the display, his arms crossed over his chest.

Jim looks up to the tall Yamoti beside him, "What is going on? I hear the words, but their meaning is obscure. Surely this old male isn't challenging me to a fight?"

Yamoti looks down at him, her eyes wide with a hint of fear in the uncertainty, "No Jim, you must face one of his elite guards in single battle. If you die, you were not worthy to carry my family's vital. But if you defeat his champion, he may never speak against you again, and he loses his status in the court. It is the will of the Spirits, and we cannot stop this."

They both look up at a booming crash as a door behind the throne dais opens and a large armored female enters the court, a sword as long as Jim is tall in her hand. She walks with a slow purpose, like a tank crossing a no-man's land, to a station in front of the dais and resting the point of the sword on the ground she grips the cross guard in her armored hands. Her ornate white armor shows the signs of hard use, and the thick metal plates gleam in the bright sunlight streaming through the skylight. The gold filigree etched into the panels of the armor sparkle with her every movement.

Jim looks at the towering warrior who stands a good foot taller than the already tall Yamoti with a hint of concern, "What are the rules to this challenge?"

She looks down to him, her eyes uncertain, "To keep your own self alive." With a snap of her head she turns and steps forward to take a place to one side of her mother's dais. Crossing her arms over her armored chest she leans against one of the pillars to watch the coming fight, her face now neutral to him and hiding the worry she feels in her gut, but is betrayed by a nervous tick in the fluffy tip of her tail.

Stealing his nerve with a deep breath, Jim reaches behind his back and pulls the improvised power-sword from his scabbard. Thumbing the activator he snaps his visor down with a quick nod and raises the blade to the ready. A sheath of blue energy crackles like lightning along the circuitry embedded along the blade's length as he follows the towering warrior's approach with his eyes.

The towering giant of a warrior gives a purring laugh as her shoulder tentacles extend to grip daggers from her belt, their wicked blades gleaming in the bright light. "Foolish beast, your little toy shall be my trophy of this victory, and your vital will cover the ground," she taunts as she starts to circle the smaller man in front of her, her footfalls heavy and loud in the deathly quiet room.

Jim doesn't waste time trying to turn and follow her, instead focusing on keeping his stance solid on the floor and watching her on the inside of his visor. He knew her kind, a talker, a bully, someone who wouldn't take well to quiet and calm from her opponent. She was trying to intimidate him, and while it was working, he knew he couldn't show any sign of it. Her kind thrived on such reactions.

"What's the matter creature? You were full of words earlier, or has the fact that you face a real warrior scared all the stolen knowledge from your tiny brain?" She lunges at him and he dodges low and to the side, avoiding the slash of one of the daggers by a hair's breadth. Circling him again she growls, "What's the matter beast, unable to face the might of a true warrior? Can you only fight those weaklings from the Republic, and only when you have your weapons of light? Why don't you just run back to your people in disgrace or surrender your head to my blade now and avoid the pain of being gutted?"

He quirks a grin at her words but maintains his quiet as he starts to take slow and careful steps, his sword humming with power as he starts to twirl it with agile hands, his careful steps making only the quietest of shuffles in the audience chamber. She snaps at him with one of her two daggers and Jim's hands react like a lightning bolt. With a sharp snap the blade of the dagger she had struck at him with is snapped and skittering across the floor, several spectators leaping out of the way of the sharp metal with shouts of surprise and shock.

Looking at the hilt still in her tentacle the warrior snarls, "What witchcraft is this? No force of this world can break one of our blessed blades!"

He grins, baring his teeth, "Science you toothless bitch, not witchcraft," he snaps and springs at her. She raises her own sword to block his humming blade and, eyes wide, watches the glowing blade sink deep into her own, almost cleaving the massive blade in half. With a snarl she snaps her other dagger into his side and feels it connect with a solid thump and a wince of pain crosses Jim's face.

With a roar of victory she twists the dagger in his side and yanks it out expecting to see him fall to the floor with a mortal wound, his blood flowing to pool on the pristine floor. Taking a few steps back to put some distance between them he lifts his arm to examine his side, "I think you might have bruised me with your little tickle there."

Eyes wide and raising the dagger to her face she stares at the still clean blade.

Kirant points to the combatants, "He is cheating! That dagger should have killed him! He is using witchcraft to resist the will of the Spirits!"

Tirgale looks sideways at the old priest in disgust, "There is no cheating in combat. I warned you old fool, we don't know the true abilities of these people yet, and you wanted to pick a fight with one. If it would have been permitted I would have had you out there fighting the Ambassador instead of a brave warrior who must now pay the price for your foolishness. As it is, I'd say the Spirits are making themselves heard clearly."

Kirant snarls at Tirgale before turning back to his champion and screaming as he pounds his staff on the floor, "Go for his head! Don't waste time on his guts! Take his head and he dies like any other vermin! I can see bare flesh, that isn't protected!"

The warrior focuses again on Jim as he lowers his arm and raises the blade towards her again. Raising his other hand he curls the fingers at her, encouraging her to bring it.

She tosses the ruined sword aside and pulls out another dagger from her belt. "If you bleed as your tale says, then you can die creature."

"RRROOWWWWRRRRLLL," she screams as she once again charges, the daggers slicing back and forth in great arcs of flashing steel.

He ducks her wild swings and twists behind her to strike, the energy field surrounding his blade slicing through her back armor and a trail of red flows from the rent metal and the split flesh underneath.

Spinning she tries to take off his head with a wild haymaker which he ducks and returns a low swing, catching her across the stomach and once more opening her armor like a tin-foil can. She drops the dagger in her hand and puts her hand to the painful slice across her abdomen. The blood staining her white armor as it flows from the split armor. "RRRRRAAARRRRRRR," she screams as she flings the dagger still in her tentacle which he dodges with ease and sprinting behind her he strikes at the back of her knee, and as his sword splits her armor it finds her tendons and severs them like a thread.

"AARRRG!" she cries as she falls and lands on her face, blood seeping from the rents in her armor.

Jim stands over her, his sword held low and studies her. His eyes hidden behind the reflective visor of his helmet notice the mewling sobs of pain and the trembling as she attempts to rise to her hands and knees again in defiance.

She looks up at him, her own visage distorted in the reflective curve of the visor, "You are a demon, kill me..." she begs as she lowers her head to expose the back of her neck to his swing.

"ARRRGGGGG!" he shouts as his sword lists overhead and he brings it down, an electric buzz vibrating the air, slicing through her hair he stops the humming blade the tiniest fraction of an inch from the flesh of her neck. Thumbing the activator again the hum and blue glow fade from the blade as he lifts it away from her neck and turns his back on her, "No... You're defeated, there's no point in killing you."

Lifting her head with a grimace of pain she croaks, "No... Kill me..." Jim looks down at the sword still in his hand and shakes his head and sighs, "You lost when you entered this fight. You believed I was weak because I was smaller, stupid for coming here, and honor-less because I was different from you." His eyes focus on Kirant still standing beside the High Mother's throne and watching in disbelief, "Be thankful I let you keep your life."

Her head too heavy to hold up any longer she lowers it to hang from her neck, "I am dishonored... I would rather die. Please kill me..." As the crowd in the hall breaks into loud murmurs and a few calls of, "Kill her!"

Yamoti steps in front of her mother and breaks the eyes contact between Jim and the old priest. A scowl crosses her features as the old priest shakes his head and brings his gaze to match hers, "Kirant, I think you had better leave the palace now." Her words silence the few cries from the audience chamber as everyone waits to see what happens in this new confrontation with bated breath.

The old priest snaps his gaze around the room, looking for support, but finding none. Opening his mouth to speak his voice is silenced by the gentle words of Talri sitting on her throne beside him, "Kirant, you are dismissed and banished for your disgraceful act. If you are found in the city after sunset, you will find no sanctuary within the walls."

He seems to age fifty years at these words, "High Mother... I did this for the betterment of your line. How could I know..."

"No," she interrupts him, her voice little more than a whisper as she tries to contain her anger at his stupid actions, "you did this for yourself. Your pride and arrogance have resulted in the injury of a valued warrior and the loss of your services to my family. There is no one to blame for this but you. You are dismissed."

He moves to step forward and two red armored figures grip his shoulders with strong hands. "Get your hands off me!" he roars at the honor guards as he jerks away from them. "I am the High Priest to the Spirits, my guidance has directed the Holy Family for three generations!"

Stepping in front of the dais he turns to face the red armored figures closing on him, "He has poisoned you all against the will of the Spirits!" Spinning with a speed not expected in someone of his advanced years he raises a shortfang which had been concealed in his robes and letting out a hysterical laugh roars, "Now daemon,DIE!!!" The handgun emits a loud crack as the muzzle flashes and supersonic needles fly at the lone human and everything erupts in chaos as the mad priest files with wild abandon.

The guards around the room draw their weapons and charge, several bringing their own shortfangs to bear on the old Rathac but hold their fire in fear, realizing their High Mother is in the line of fire. Tirgale throws his body between the mad priest and his lifemate crying, "Shoot him!" over the shouts and screams of the crowd as they try to find cover in the bright room.

Yamoti crouches to launch herself at the crazed priest, a stray needle pinging off the curve of her armor, her claws and fangs bared, when a humming blur flies past in an arc to slice through his shoulder and sever the arm holding the weapon from his body as if a dead limb hacked from a tree. Clutching at the massive wound to staunch the blood pouring from it Kirant emits high pitched screams of pure agony as he collapses to the floor and thrashes.

Spinning to see where the blur came from she sees Jim on one knee, his hands held in front of him and his sword gone. His face is mostly hidden behind the mirrored visor of his helmet, but his teeth are clenched in a fierce snarl. Turning back the humming blade is seen imbedded in the floor behind the screaming priest where it impacted point first after severing the threatening limb from the insane male.

Several of the red armored guards race forward to restrain the thrashing priest in case he has another weapon to threaten those in the chamber with. "Get a Mender in here now!" orders one as she tries to staunch the blood flowing from the gaping wound that used to be his shoulder.

Yamoti turns back to the center of the room where Jim still kneels, his hands slowly lowering to his sides as he lowers his head and moves his lips in a quiet prayer. Placing his hands on the ground he surges to his feet and sweeps his gaze around the chamber. Crossing his arms he lowers his gaze to the floor and the wounded warrior still lying at his feet, her eyes wide in shock at the actions of Kirant. Remaining in the center of the open floor he lets the Royal Honor Guard attempt to restore order to the chaos of the audience chamber.

Several Menders, their blood-red fur visible in their minimal clothing, rush in with pouches and start to work on those wounded in the panic or by stray needles. A young male kneels next to the now quiet and still Kirant, his hands and shoulder tentacles checking for signs of life. Lifting his gaze to one of the guards holding the old male he shakes his head, "He's gone to the Spirits, there is nothing I can do for him." With that the male stands and goes to tend someone who can benefit from his talents.

Tirgale turns to the High Mother and speaks to her, "It is all right High Mother, the threat is over."

Talri stares at the limp body of her former High Priest cooling in a pool of his own vital essence. "Such a waste of a male I thought I knew, but better this than his crazed actions." Her gaze moves to her lifemate, "Are you injured my Tirgale?"

Shaking his head, "No High Mother, he was focused on the Human Ambassador. I never would have thought the old male to be xenophobic."

"Nor I," she agrees then gives Tirgale a small smile and nod as he resumes his position beside her.

Together they focus their attentions on the human where he waits in the middle of the chaos around him, his defeated opponent still bleeding on the pristine floor. "Ambassador Ward, we still have one matter to address before we can adjourn this assembly," Tirgale says in a voice that silences the room except for the whimpering of the wounded. "You have to choose her fate."

Raising his head to the High Mother and her consort, his expression undecipherable to the Rathac around the room, "Her fate?"

With slow steps Yamoti approaches, "Yes, her fate. You have defeated her in an honor duel and her life is now yours. She is without honor, having backed a dishonorable act. The Spirits have shown this by guiding you to victory over her despite the backing of her by the High Priest. Will you kill her as she asks or will she serve you as your Kilape to regain her lost honor?"

Jim casts a quick look at the bleeding warrior where she grits her teeth in pain, "Kilape?"

Talri nods, "Kilapi, a person working to regain their honor and freedom by learning from the person whom the Spirits have shown to be superior. Many warriors would rather die than be a Kilape, foolishly thinking death will give them their honor back."

One of the red armored warriors steps beside Tirgale and indicates the humming blade she holds. At a wave and nod the warrior steps forward to present the still activated blade to Jim. Taking it by the handle he deactivates the power-field and with a rag from the warrior he wipes the blood from the gleaming blade. Returning his sword to the scabbard on his back he finally answers, "I am a soldier, not an executioner."

Looking down at the fallen warrior Yamoti grimaces, "You are compassionate, and she would not have been so kind to you were your positions reversed." Leaning in to whisper so only he can hear, "I will explain what this means later, but you have given yourself quite a charge here, but also shown you have great honor, strength of spirit, and value life by not simply killing her."

She turns to one of the many Menders around the room, "See to her injuries, she has to recover from this ordeal before she can regain her honor in service to the Ambassador." The same male who had declared Kirant dead steps forward and kneels beside the wounded female, two guards coming forward to help him remove her armor so he can get to the wounds underneath.

The High mother stands from her throne and speaks in a soft voice that the acoustics of the room allow to be heard by all, "Ambassador, I would appreciate it if you would attend myself and my closest advisors in more private settings later this evening. Until then my daughter will see to it you are settled. You are to be extended every courtesy, if you need anything, please ask."

Retracting his visor Jim gives her a respectful bow, "As you wish High Mother."

The High Mother and her lifemate leave through a guarded door at the back of the chamber as Yamoti turns back to him and gestures towards the doors they entered by, "Come, we shall find you a place to rest your body and spirit." Jim follows her from the chamber, the murmur of voices raising as the two mismatched warriors leave the room.

All characters unless otherwise stated are the intellectual property of Chris Gilman [aka. Goliath Wildcat] Story © Copyright Christopher Gilman 2012 all rights reserved tell me what you think