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Future Sanctuary

Chapter 9 - Not All Enemies Are From Outside

As the first rays of the rising sun reach across the battlefield from the night before, Jim Ward surveys the scene from high atop the command crawler's observation deck, his helmet resting on the railing before him. The glazed spots of earth where blaster bolts had stuck and the discolored patches where wounded and dead had bled cover the area outside the perimeter of the crawlers. The wind brings with it the smell of burned meat and smoke from the fire caused by the blasters of the Human defense forces. "How many more are going to die?" he asks no one. Mentally he goes over the numbers, 'Roughly eight hundred dead Rathac, and another six hundred wounded. If the menders arrive half of those wounded might survive, but many will be crippled for life even if they do.' He shakes his head at the needless slaughter, 'And our losses, six dead and twenty wounded. Not a bad exchange rate.' A shudder courses through his body at the morbid thought, "How can I analyze it all so easily without emotion sometimes? This wasn't a battle, it was a preview of hell."

"You said something Majoi?" asks the tall tan furred feline figure of Kilape as she exits the stairwell from the crawler, passing the two armed security officers, and approaches him.

"Just thinking out loud Kilape," Jim says with a weary sigh. "Counting the costs of the battle last night and trying to decide if there is ever a real winner in war."

Kilape stands a few steps behind him and bows her head, her hands clasped in front of her, "Isn't the side who takes the fewest casualties the winner?"

Jim closes his eyes and shakes his head, "Even on the victor's side, there are those who lost the big game. Families have lost loved ones, fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, and friends; everyone loses something in a war." He watches another wrapped body being carried from the makeshift field hospital, where the Rathac wounded are being tended, to the line of corpses. "Some even lose part of themselves to the violence and slaughter," he says in a soft whisper.

"Are you saying that you would have rather surrendered?" the Rathac asks, her ears and brows quirked in confusion at his words.

Jim shakes his head, his short hair tousled by the morning breeze, "No, we would have lost more if we had. But while one side may win a battle, both sides are losers in one way. The victor is simply the one who has lost the least."

He turns to look her up and down, "How are you feeling this morning? I know you were up for a long time helping the wounded Rathac. I thought for sure you'd have found a quiet place to sleep."

The female shakes her head, "I came to seek you, but you were not in your quarters, nor on the battlefield. Some of your people saw me searching and kept pointing the way towards here. Now I have found you, I have a message from Honor Lead Vorga."

He raises an eyebrow in surprise, "What does he have to say?"

"They found the body of the member of the Ambassador's guard who was wounded last night."

"Killed in the battle? Good riddance, he's no loss," he mutters as he turns back to watch the activity below where the cleanup is still proceeding.

"Killed yes, in the battle..." she hesitates, "No." Jim turns back towards her, an eyebrow rising in inquiry, "He was found on the outer edge of the battlefield, near the forest, with a sword wound through his heart."

Jim tries to hide his reaction of shock, "Are you telling me his own people killed him?"

Kilape shrugs, "I am only reporting what Honor Lead Vorga instructed me to pass on to you. However, I believe that would be a good guess since with the exception of yourself, your people don't appear to carry swords."

Jim nods in agreement, "True, most warriors carry a combat knife, but not swords."

Kilape waits for him to say more but he remains silent. "Is there anything else you need done Majoi?" she asks.

Jim shakes his head, "No, there's not much more we can do until the menders arrive with the Denguard Fleet. We're burying the dead and helping the wounded as much as we can. All of our wounded are back on their feet." With a sigh he again leans heavily on the railing, "Captain Long wants to start moving the crawlers out of this area and towards the lands given to us by the High Mother. That'll probably happen in the next few days, sooner if possible, but he's agreed to wait for the Denguard Fleet and the menders to take care of the Rathac wounded." He rubs his eyes as he feels the effects of the last twelve hours catching up with him, "Let's get some rest, I've got the feeling we'll have a long day later today too."

Kilape bows her head to Jim in acknowledgement and follows as he leaves the observation deck.

* * *

A young man in the black body armor of the security force, private's chevrons on his sleeve, stands before Captain Long's desk, his face flushed with anger as the older man looks up at him. "Son, I know you lost friends last night, we all did, but that is no excuse for this," he tosses the plain manila folder across the desk.

The man stands at rigid attention before the Captain's desk, "Sir, it is the only solution. We need to eliminate them all if we are going to take this world for ourselves. A quick strike with the assault hoppers and delivery of fusion warheads to their cities should soften them up enough for an easy cleanup afterwards."

The Captain leans forward his forefinger poking the desk, "We are not going to wipe out a sentient species because some of them are hostile. If you remember your history lessons, we already did that to e race, ourselves. War after war that ravaged Earth until it was no longer livable so that ships like ours were dispatched with the last survivors. We have good relations with the Empire. They have been honest..."

"Sir," interrupts the private, his hands clenching into fists at his sides, "They attacked the Chief and turned him into a freak who can speak their primitive language. And you're letting him run around free with them rather than studying him like you would any other lab..."

With a bang the Captain slams his open palms on the desk as he shoves himself to his feet, "Enough!"

The private holds his tongue and stares at the wall behind Captain Long as the Captain glares at him with a steel eyed gaze. "Ambassador Ward is a respected member of this community and I will not allow you to insinuate that he is some test subject because he was given a gift that is allowing us to speak to the natives of this world. That is why I assigned him as our ambassador, because he can speak to them. Despite the incident and the unique outcome from it, he is still human, he is still a member of our community, and he has made great strides to arranging a peaceful co-existence."

"But, sir..."

"I said enough!" Captain Long punctuates his shout with another slap on his desk. "Jim Ward is your superior and you will treat him as such. Am I clear Gregory?"

Gregory snaps, "Yes, sir!"

Captain Long slowly returns to his seat as he lets out a sigh, "Dismissed, and we'll pretend you didn't recommend this." He tosses the folder into the slot for the recycler.

Without a word the young man salutes and with a sharp about-face leaves the office without a backward glance.

Captain Long rubs his forehead for a few minutes before he taps the communications toggle on his desk, "Karyl, can you meet me in my office. We need to talk about something, and it can't wait."

"Of course Captain, I'll be there in ten minutes."

* * *

Murrrfie enjoys the thrill of the air through his fur as the sun starts to break the horizon. The two Thunderstorms have held close to his left and right all night, escorting him with ease despite the speed of his small flitter. Now, as the sun gleams off the spires of the High Mother's Palace he spares a moment off of the controls to pat the message tube where it rests, tucked into his belt. 'I've never been trusted with such an important message before. So many lives hang in the balance,' he thinks.

As the wing of three flying machines cross the border of the city a paw of scout flitters take off from the Denguard Fleet where it's moored and form up around the trio in an escort formation. Murrrfie spares a hand to wave at one of the pilots for a moment before he grips the controls and starts to reduce the power of the lodestones and at the same time, his speed to a slower cruising speed.

The purr of the lodestones dies to the softest of vibrations as the noise of the passing wind eases and the roar of the escorting hoppers becomes more pronounced. Now flying at a safer speed he takes his hands from the controls to motion to the escort of flitters where they intend to land. The lead flitter pilot nods in understanding and he waves for the other flitters to fly forward and circle the Palace's landing field.

As the palace landing field comes into view he can see the red and silver armored livery of his mother's Honor Guard forming on the edge of the open field. Murrrfie banks the flitter in a tight circle and eases his craft into a hover before letting the power in the lodestones slowly die and settle him to the ground. He looks up at the two hoppers staying airborne above him and waves his hands towards the ground on either side of his smaller flitter.

One of the pilots gives him a nod before motioning to the other and the pair of armed hoppers slowly settle to the ground. Their powerful thrusters kick up dust and debris from the field as they draw near, causing those standing around the field to cover their faces for protection. As the whine of the hopper engines fade and the dust settles the guards once more stand erect and alert for threats.

In the new silence of the Palace grounds Murrrfie can hear the slap of sandaled feet on stone floors and the guards part to let his mother pass, her Honor Lead and Tirgale in close pursuit. Murrfie bows his head and is surprised to be engulfed in his mother's arms as she buries her face in his hair, "Oh Murrrfie, I was so worried. Don't you ever do something that insane again, you hear me?"

The insides of his ears turn pink and his face heats up at the unexpected emotion from this female who was usually so rigid and formal, "Mother, I was fine."

His sire holds back and whispers to the High Mother's Honor Lead, "I told you she's do this Urani."

The red and brown furred warrior gives him half a smile as she nods, "So you did Consort."

Seeing the canopies of the two Thunderstorms open Urani watches the human pilots stand and stretch as they pull helmets off and stuff gloves into them. "Consort, what do you want us to do with the human flitters?"

Tirgale nods, "They are oddly shaped for the bays. I don't think leaving then on the field will do them much damage. I don't know how long they will be staying."

Hearing his sire's words, Murrrfie finally gets a word in, "High Mother, I have an urgent message from Commander Yamoti."

Hearing the formal tone in his voice all three look to the young male. "What does she have to report? I am surprised she did not return with you if it is so urgent," the High Mother comments.

The young male pulls the message tube from his belt and bowing holds it out to her. Before she can take it Tirgale steps up and takes the tube himself as his duties would normally have it. With a flick of a claw he breaks the seal and removes the message to skim over it, his eyes going wide and his jaw dropping to hang open. "Those fools," he whispers in shock.

"Tirgale?" she asks with concern, her smile falling as he remains silent. "Tirgale, what is it?"

He silently hands the message to her and she reads it herself before her own eyes go wide and she turns to Urani, "Alert Lifae, I want as many Menders ready to leave with the Denguard Fleet by sun high as possible. Then, alert Alpha Captain Gati that the Dengaurd Fleet is to be leaving port on a mercy mission no later than sun high with however many Menders are assembled. I want nine out of ten lodeships to leave with the fleet, the rest are to remain here for defense of the Capital. I'll have orders in writing to her within the segment. Go!"

Urani doesn't waste time asking questions; she simply salutes with a snap of her tentacle and dashes towards the palace roaring orders to the Honor Guard gathered there.

Murrrfie bows to his mother again, "High Mother, I wish to return to the humans. They have much to teach us and have shown me many wonders. Commander Yamoti even said I could return if you permit it."

Talri looks down at her youngest son, her first inclination to deny his request but Tirgale's hand on her shoulder gives her pause. Bringing his lips close to her ear he whispers, "Even his second says he is a great alcami. Let him learn from the humans if they are willing to teach him."

She nods at her mate's words, "You are right." She looks back to her son and sighs, "Very well, no mother wishes to let her youngest leave the den, but all cubs must do what the Spirits urge them to."

* * *

Jim and Kilape return to their suite and Jim gives the guard stationed there a friendly pat on the shoulder, "How's things been going Hector?"

"Not bad, sir," the young man replies, "After this last firefight I understand why you were so hard on us to be at the peak of training. There wasn't time to focus like in practice on the range, only time to squeeze the trigger, find another target, and reload."

Jim nods with understanding, "You have to let your muscles learn what to do without being told, and in battle there is little time to think about what you're doing, only time to act." Giving a final pat on the man's shoulder he smiles, "But I'm glad to see the training took in you and you're still around to keep training."

"Yes, sir," the young man replies as Jim opens the door and is followed in by the tall figure of Kilape who shuts the door behind them.

"Where will I sleep Majoi?" Kilape asks as her curious gaze sweeps the living room of the suite.

"Well, the bed is big enough for you I think. I'll take the couch out here and let you have the bed." He waves a hand towards the closed bedroom door as he reaches under his armor and starts removing pieces.

Kilape dismisses any thoughts of the bedroom and steps up to take the armor pieces from him, "Please, let me help Majoi."

Jim lets a soft sigh escape his lips, but this time he doesn't argue and lets her take the pieces of heavy armor and set them to one side. As he removes his weapons from the tactical harness he pulls the power cells before letting Kilape take them. She handles each weapon as carefully as if they were the crown jewels rather than weapons for a battlefield as she sets them alongside the pieces of armor.

As the soft layer of reactive armor comes off Jim can smell the stink of sweat that radiates from his body, a stench worse than anything he had smelled before. "Gods I need a shower," he says as he wrinkles his nose and starts towards the attached bathroom to dial in a shower. He doesn't hear the soft steps of the barefoot feline following him.

He pulls his shirt off and discards it before he realizes Kilape has followed him, "You need a shower too?"

She shakes her head as she starts pulling off her own clothing, "I thought my Majoi might like a hand with his bathing, it is quite common for a Kilape to assist his or her Majoi in such tasks."

Jim's face reflects his initial shock at her statement, and further shock as she starts removing her pants, "Um... The shower is a bit small for both of us, don't you think Kilape?"

"It is big enough for me to wash you where it is hard to reach by yourself Majoi," she says as she stands up once more, but this time wearing only her fur. The bathroom starts to fill with the combined smell of sweaty human and feline as steam from the shower starts to fog the mirror.

Jim turns back towards the shower and takes a deep breath to control his voice, "Well, we will use less water showering together I guess." He finishes removing his clothes and tosses them into the living room before he steps into the shower and lets the warmth of the falling water remove the sweat of the day from his skin.

His eyes close as he leans against the cool wall of the shower and allows the water to sluice over him. He is unable to restrain a shiver that runs up his spine as he feels soft hands massaging while tentacles start running washcloths over him and the smell of wet fur comes to his nose. Despite the usual opinion of the smell of wet fur, he finds something soothing in the scent, a hint of herbs that has nothing to do with the soap Kilape is lathering over his skin.

The strong yet soft hands of the Rathac female massage at tired and sore muscles pushed by the strain of a long day and earning a sigh of pleasure from Jim as the knots relax. He lets Kilape continue without word or instruction as she slowly works her way down his back. Her massaging hands don't change their gentle ministrations as they work down, over his rear, and onto his legs. One part of his mind tells him that he can wash his legs himself, but another part argues that Kilape said this was a common practice among Kilape and Majoi, and who is he to complain. Right now he's almost too tired to put in the effort to wash himself, so he might as well let her. And besides, it's not like he hadn't been in a bath naked with a female Rathac before, 'On more than one occasion come to think of it.'

Jim's eyes snap open as he realizes that Kilape's hands and tentacles have worked their way back up the front of his legs, and reached his groin. The agile fingers and tentacles are gentle, yet exotic, as they thoroughly wash his privates with touches a mother might use on a newborn babe before working their way further up to his abdomen. He looks down at his little friend and mentally grunts, 'You, go back to sleep.'

* * *

Jim sips a cup of coffee as he watches the sun inching over the horizon. 'This really is a beautiful world,' he thinks to himself as he enjoys the crisp morning air and a hot cup of coffee on the observation deck.

"Penny for your thoughts?" asks a human female voice behind him.

Jim grins and answers casually without turning, "Good morning Karyl."

Stepping up to stand next to him with her own cup of coffee she looks out over the country before them, "The Captain called me to his office last night." She pauses to take a sip before continuing, "We have a problem."

The grin on his face wavers, "Problems within the ranks?"

"Of a sort," she says, a frown crossing her features. "One of the security contingent proposed a preemptive strike against the Rathac, both the Republic and the Empire. Wipe them all out with our superior firepower."

Jim scoffs, "Wouldn't work, even if we killed millions. There would still be some who survived, and then there would be no chance for peace." He sighs, "These are good people, even if they don't look like us."

"The Captain knows that, and anyone with reason can see that. But, those who think like this private are truly deluded."

Jim nods as he notices the two armored figures of Yamoti and Vorga leaving the crawler and heading towards the field hospital to check on the wounded. "Look there," he points them out with his coffee cup, "If ever there proof that we're siding with the right people, it's right there."

Karyl nods in understanding, "Yes, not many would so willingly aid those who have been the enemy of their people for who knows how long."

Jim shrugs, "From what I know it's been a very long time."

"Where's Kilape?" Karyl asks.

"Still sleeping, she'll probably wake and search me out soon enough." He finishes his coffee and turns back inside, "I better go check on her. She wanted to start learning from me, no time better to start then while we're waiting for the Denguard Fleet to arrive with the support."

* * *

In the makeshift field hospital several human medics and nurses are bandaging wounds and spraying ointment onto burns. Tabitha Richards frowns at the mewling cries coming from the badly burned warrior she's trying to comfort. She holds up a hand to a passing doctor, "Paul, can we give them some pain killers or are we still waiting on the lab tests? I know they're not human, but surely the labs can tell us what we can use safely by now?"

The man shakes his head, his own eyes full of regret at their lack of ability to treat their patients, "Sorry Tab, but we can't be sure without more time to test, and I'd rather not lose one of these patients that way."

One of the guards in the tent snorts and mutters, "Serve 'em right for attacking us."

Paul snaps his head around to the guard, "You, out!"

The guard smirks, "I've got orders to be sure none of these prisoners escape. Those orders override yours Doc."

"And you can be just as sure they don't leave from outside the tent. I think the young man next to you who has the decency to stay quiet is more than enough in a tent full of second, third, and fourth degree burns. Not to mention the myriad of other injuries and wounds these men received at our own hands."

The guard opens his mouth to reply when another black armored figure steps into the tent. Seeing the insignia both guards come to attention. Chief Jenson looks both guards over quickly, "What's the shouting? I could hear it from a hundred yards away."

"Doc here is getting above himself," the arrogant guard snarls. "Thinks he can order me around because I'm just a private and he's a doctor."

The Chief looks to the doctor, "Paul?"

The man shakes his head, "I don't need a loud mouthed hot head spouting hate in a room full of suffering patients. It doesn't matter that they can't understand us; they can still read body language I'm sure."

The Chief turns to the guard who had stayed quiet this whole time, "Private? What started this?"

Private Kelly stands straighter as he addresses the Chief, "Sir, Private Jones said it served the aliens right for attacking us when the doctor and nurse were commenting that they wished they could do something to ease the pain of their patients. When the doctor ordered the private out, he refused."

The Chief looks over at the first private who is standing as straight as he can, his face red with anger, "Private, outside, now," he growls low in his throat.

The two armored figures step outside and the remaining guard lets out a slow sigh as those inside can hear the Chief building to a full blown chew out session. He gives the doctor and nurse a wink and speaks in a low voice, "Personally doc, I agree with you. No man, or alien for that matter, deserves to suffer such as these poor guys are. You're sure there's nothing you can do for their pain?"

The doctor shakes his head with a heavy sigh, "I wish I could, but until tests are complete I don't want to even try aspirin."

The guard nods in understanding as the doctor returns to his rounds of his patients.

Tabitha takes the towel from a Rathac's forehead and soaks it in a bucket of cool water before wringing it out and laying it across his white and red furred forehead again. He seems to calm as the cool cloth rests over his forehead and he emits an almost human sigh, but it's mixed with a soft mewl of pain from the felinoid's lips. She checks the bandages protecting the second degree burns that cover his right side and winces at the blistered skin with fur burned from it by the near miss of a heavy blaster. She bites her lip as she glances at other warriors who are quiet only because their burns are so severe that their nerves are burned to a crisp. She comments more to herself then anyone who can understand her, "You were one lucky cat."

There is the sound of metal on metal from the doorway and Tabitha turns to see the armored pair of Rathac enter the tent. While the blue furred female stands near the remaining guard she notes that the black and red furred male removes his helmet and gloves to aid the nurses and medics with some herbs from a pouch he pulls from under his armor.

She watches in fascination as he gives a few leaves to one of the wounded warriors crying in agony from the burns that cover 90% of his body. The purring sounds of their language come to her ears as he gives the patient instructions and the patient chews the mixture. The results are amazing as a look of peace crosses the injured warrior's face in minutes and he says a few words as a bandaged hand rises to grip the armored figure's arm with the tiny bit of strength he can muster.

The male warrior nods and gives a small closed lip smile to the injured warrior before he stands and notices her watching him. He walks towards her and holds out the pouch in one of the odd furred tentacles that sprout from their backs.

She reaches towards the pouch with a hesitant gesture, "You want me to take this?"

The Rathac nods and again, holding it out to her with his tentacle as his hands point from the pouch to her. With caution she takes the pouch in her hand and receives a pat from the softly furred tentacle before it retracts into his shoulder blade. She opens the pouch to find it full of the dried leaves he had fed the wounded warrior. She looks up to find him pantomiming towards the other injured and making chewing motions as he removes another pouch from inside his breastplate. Holding up a single finger he pulls out a leaf and proceeds to give it to another of the wounded in obvious pain.

Understanding clicks and she calls out, "Paul!"

At her yell the doctor comes running only to pull to a sudden halt as he notices the armored figure giving the wounded the herbs from the pouch. "What's going on Tab? What is Vorga doing to the patients?"

She holds up the pouch as she shakes a few of the leaves into her hand, "He's giving them a leaf from this, and it seems to help with pain. Quick, give some to the others and tell them to have the patients chew one leaf only. He seemed to be pretty serious about that, only one."

Paul takes the pouch and looks at it, "Are we sure he's not trying to poison them?" He watches the prisoners take the leaf without hesitation and shakes his head, "No, they wouldn't take it so readily if it was." He pats her shoulder before hurrying off to spread the local medicine, "Thanks Tab."

Turning back to the patient she's been tending she finds his eyes on the leaf and his mouth already open as if asking for it. She places one of the leaves on his tongue and he pulls it back into his mouth and chews it quickly. Closing his oddly colored red and white eyes he seems to drift into a light sleep, something she hasn't seen him do since he was brought from the battlefield.

"Good," she says as she rests a hand on the cool cloth on his forehead, "You get some rest, I got a few other patients to see to." Getting up she goes to the next patient in her section and gives him a leaf too. 'God works in mysterious ways, but it's good to see warriors who can ease the pain of their wounded enemies,' she thinks to herself as she continues.

* * *

Vorga finds Jim going through his morning Kata in the gym after visiting with the prisoners. He is slightly surprised to see Kilape following the human's movements with the clumsiness of a beginner. While Jim's motions are smooth as a calm river, the Rathac's are coarser with hesitations as she tries to follow her Majoi's motions.

Jim pauses mid motion and nods to Vorga as he straightens up, "Care to join?"

Vorga gives a closed lip smile, "I would love to, but not today. Perhaps tomorrow the Commander and I will join you. I am intrigued to learn your way of fighting without weapons. While we have some formal styles of combat, they are all at great disadvantage against an armed opponent."

Jim pulls a towel off a bar on the wall and tosses another to Kilape who is also sweating heavily from the unaccustomed workout. "What can I do for you today?"

"The Commander was wondering if when your people move to the lands given them, will you be returning to the Capital with us?"

Jim nods, "Absolutely, I am the Ambassador for the Humans of the Maiden's Voyage to the court of your High Mother. I talked with Captain Long earlier, and he would be honored to accept an ambassador from your people among us. I was thinking that young brother of Commander Yamoti's, Murrrfie was it? A few of our surviving engineers have even agreed to teach the lad some of our technology as a sign of friendship."

"You mean..." Vorga seems stunned by such an offer, "your people would be willing to share their secrets with us?"

Jim nods, "Why not, you have been more than open with me about how your technology works, even if I can't understand it all. A few more days here and I think the young lady working on a translation system will have it working well enough to allow for some degree of conversation without my odd condition."

Vorga bows low in respect, "I will carry your offer to the Commander immediately."

Jim chuckles and waves him off as the black and red furred male runs off to find his commander.

One of the guards in the gym watches the interaction with squinting eyes. His hand on the sling of his blaster rifle tightens enough that the material of his gloves gives a slight creak of protest. 'Damn alien lover,' the man thinks to himself. Turning to the other guard he mutters, "Susan, I gotta visit the head."

The other guard nods her head, "Make it quick."

* * *

Jim and Kilape walk down the hallway chatting, "Muscles a little sore Kilape?"

The Rathac nods, "Yes Majoi, I am not used to such strange motions, but I can see how limbering your body in such a way can make you a master of hand to hand combat. If you loosen yourself to move in ways the opponent won't expect you can better surprise him."

"It is only one of the steps to learning our style of fighting, but it's a start." Nearing their suite he smiles, "And a warm shower will help relax those sore spots."

As they reach the suite Jim has a moment of surprise to notice the guard usually standing outside his door is missing. 'Probably just visiting the head,' he tells himself. 'But, he should have called for a relief then.'

Opening the door he reaches for the panel to activate the lights and freezes for a moment with his hand just above the switch, something is wrong. His eyes track across the small suite and while nothing looks out of place in the dark room there is just a feeling, something odd is present. Something basic he can't identify.

Behind him Kilape sniffs the air before whispering, a hint of a growl in her voice as her fur stands on end, "Majoi, I smell someone else in the room."

Jim realizes that's one of the problems, he's smelling someone else in their suite, and he's not sure how he knows this, how he can identify someone by smell. There is the intense smell that his mind registers as himself and another familiar one that his brain registers as Kilape, but there is a third that he can't identify in the still air of his suite beyond it's a human. Jim holds one hand up for silence as the other slides down and releases the clasp holding his sidearm in place. "Take cover," he whispers in a voice that only travels to her ears. She ducks in and to one side of the door to shelter behind a couch as Jim slips into the darkness and realizes the soft light from the corridor is allowing him to see far clearer than he thought he should in what is normally pitch darkness. 'This is getting stranger and stranger,' he tells himself but files it away as something to deal with later.

Against the wall he finds what he was afraid he would, a body wearing the body armor of a guard limp against a wall and behind some furniture so a casual look inside wouldn't attract attention. Feeling for a pulse at the neck he is relieved to find it stead and strong, but a slight whiff tells him a chemical knocked the guard out. The same question, 'Who's behind this?' keeps running through his head as he continues his slow prowl of the suite, his eyes scanning the shadows that aren't as dark as they should be.

Scanning the dark room he notices a brief flash of light from under the door to his bedroom and a trained reflex has his blaster pistol clear of its holster without a sound. With the flick of a thumb he sets it for stun rather than lethal and, with the grace of long practice, slinks up to the door without a sound. He motions Kilape over to bracket the door with him and she does so with silent footfalls in the soft carpet. He slips his sword free of its scabbard and tosses it to her which she catches with the practiced ease of a trained swordsman. "Try to take him alive," he whispers, unsure how he knows the unknown person in his room is male.

With deft fingers Jim slips a disc from a pouch on his belt as he kneels against the wall by the door. He looks to Kilape and holds up the disc before placing his hands over his ears. Kilape nods, her ears flattening into her thick hair and her hands coving them while she keeps the sword in her tentacles.

Pinching the disc between two fingers Jim flicks it through the thin gap under the door before covering his own ears. The bang of an explosion and a flash from under the door signal the flash-bang going off, the screams coming from his bedroom indicate the hidden adversary is suffering from the effects. With a lurch and a kick of Jim's booted foot the door flies open and his eyes find the crying figure trying to pull itself off the floor.

Kilape enters with Jim and ducks low as an eye searing bolt from the blinded man's rifle sears over her head to burn a hole in the wall behind them. With a flip she rolls through the intervening distance and transfers the blade from her tentacle to her hands. With a flourish she knocks the rifle up with the flat of the blade as another blast smacks into the ceiling of the room.

With an ear piercing whine the blaster pistol in Jim's hand flashes twice as he squeezes the trigger with a well-trained touch, illuminating the dark room with harsh flashes of light. The stunned figure jerks a few times as electricity arcs over his body before he collapses back to the floor, the blaster rifle dropping from the numb fingers to land with a soft thud on the carpet.

Red lights on the walls start to flash and a siren signals the internal security systems have detected the brief firefight and alerted the on-duty security teams. Jim holsters his pistol, his gaze finding no other adversaries, and flips the armored man onto his stomach to secure his hands with a pair of binders from another pouch on his belt.

Without looking he knows Kilape is watching his every move and he orders in the growling purr of the Rathac tongue, "Kilape, put the sword down and go to the hallway. There will be more of my people coming in armor, stay out of their way and let them enter." He doesn't even know how his voice has taken on a commanding tone as he starts to search the unconscious man for other weapons, but Kilape knows that tone well.

Kilape, ears still ringing from the whine of the blasters and the explosion of the flash-bang, gives a quick bow before she sets the sword next to him and returns to the hallway. She can already hear the pounding of booted feet from the open door as she steps out into the hall which is now brighter and has red lights similar to those flashing in the suite.

Shouts of the Human language echo from one side of the corridor while a softer set of footfalls approaches from the other. As the human security team turns the corner into the hallway from one direction Vorga comes running up from the other side in a loose robe of fine black material embroidered with red figures, his sheathed sword gripped tight in his hand and a pair of Humans in security armor following him and failing to keep up with the unarmored warrior.

Vorga comes to a halt, his chest barely moving from the sprint he just ran as his voice roars, "What is happening?" He notices the unarmed Kilape standing in the hallway, her head bowed politely to the smaller male. "I heard an explosion and I can smell smoke. Where is the Ambassador?"

Kilape extends a single shoulder limb to point into the suite, "He disarmed and subdued an intruder. There's another human injured too."

The two groups of Humans reach the door at the same time. The ones with Vorga take up positions flanking the two Rathac while the others take up positions flanking the door, motioning the Rathac to back out of the way. With an unspoken signal the two groups enter the room, visors down so their helmets can make the room as bright as needed for their limited vision.

Vorga notices the precise movements of highly trained warriors and not for the first time wonders, 'How much can we learn from these people?'

Jim looks up from searching the inert man and raises his empty hands as the flashlights focus on him for a moment before identifying him and sweeping on to clear the room and the rest of the suite. Multiple voices call out, "Clear!" While one of the team turns on the lights in the suite, another bends over and tends to the unconscious guard in the living room. Another of the security group taps a code into the datapad on her wrist to disable the alert and the blaring sirens fall gratefully silent.

The woman who disabled the alert lifts her visor, "Jim, what the hell is going on?"

The former chief of security grins as he gets off the floor and lowers his hands at a nod from the woman, "Nice to see you too Kathy, sharp and on the ball as always I'm pleased to see." He indicates the dropped blaster rifle before pointing out the blast marks on the wall and ceiling, "Someone wanted me or my charge dead."

Kathy looks to the weapon and sees the indicator lights glowing an angry red, "Full power with overcharge set to maximum. He only had two or three shots with that setting, but that would have blown clean through your armor, you'd have been dead in seconds. Might have fried the operator too if he wasn't lucky from plasma burns." She signals two of her team, "Let's see who it is."

The two men flip the man over and one kneels to remove the helmet. The team surrounding the unconscious man all frown and the leader mutters, "Gregory Ivan, well I'll be damned."

"My god!" says a female voice from the doorway.

Those in the room turn to see the Captain and Dr Karyl Bachner standing in the doorway, a look of shock on the young woman and a frown on the older man. "Sargent, remove that man to the brig," the Captain orders and Kathy nods to the men who flipped him over. With practiced ease they lift the unconscious man and carry him off.

Jim notices the two Rathac still standing in the hallway and waves them in, "Come on in Vorga, Kilape, I think I need a drink." Turning to one corner of the room Jim opens up a small cabinet and pulls out a couple of glasses and a bottle of amber liquid.

Kathy holds up her hand, "Jim, I'm sorry, but we'll have to find out another suite while we collect evidence. Perhaps you could visit the big blue lady while we arrange it?"

Jim nods in understanding and motions to the hallway, "Captain, Doctor, would you care to join us?" He turns to Vorga and gives him a polite nod, "Would Commander Yamoti mind if we joined her for a chat and a drink?" He holds up the bottle in his hand, "Finest vintage on the Maiden's Voyage, I guarantee it."

Vorga nods in understanding, "I do not think the Commander would mind a drink with you and your friends." With a bow he motions them to follow him from the room and they leave the blaster marked cabins for the far nicer rooms Yamoti had been given.

* * *

As the Denguard Fleet pulls away from their docks Murrfie looks up at the sun high in the sky, "It has taken too long for the fleet to mobilize. We won't be there before it's dark at this rate."

The Alpha Captain smiles down at the young male, "We'll get there as soon as the Spirits will it cub." She smiles as the sails fill with a favorable wind, "And it seems the Spirits are willing to aid us in our mission. I always said the Spirits approved of mercy."

All characters unless otherwise stated are the intellectual property of Chris Gilman [aka. Goliath Wildcat] Murrrfie © Goliath Thunderstep, Story © Copyright Christopher Gilman 2013 all rights reserved

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