THE LOPER - SUNBRINGER

[Welsh Halfwit]

73

The door to the medical bay opened and the entourage entered, Sarah being pushed in Donnika’s wheelchair by her husband as Goole and Donnika followed on behind. The door shut on them as Night readied the bed for her friend and assisted Edelmar in getting her onto the bed. “You said,” Sarah gasped, “I had two more months…”

“It’s a hybrid, Sarah,” Night reminded her, “all bets are off and they’re all different.” She ran the scans over the womb as Sarah lay there, trying to remember her breathing exercises as Edelmar held her hand. “Well, at least it means we won’t need to do the zip and rip…”

“It’s called… a Surgical removal,” Sarah strained. “Contractions are… five apart.”

“So we have time.” She looked up. “This will take quite a while, Edelmar,” she told Polva. “You OK to wait?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” the Russellian replied starkly, his tail wagging.

Night’s eye flicked to the other two. “What are you doing here, Donny,” she asked. “This isn’t a viewing room.”

The Raitchian ummed and ahhed and pointed at his less needed than this point last week conveyance. “I, uh, volunteered my chair and need it back,” he said, having donated it when ambushed in the passageways by someone who really needed it.

“Take it and within the automobile off,” Night told him before looking at Goole. “You’re here to carry him, I suppose?” Goole nodded as Donnika looked at his seat, ewwed, and asked Night for towels. Night hit the intercom and called for Nurse Daley, the Celican midwife, to attend, then called Bazil in. “Out of here, you lot!” Night snapped after turning the comm off Donnika decided to see if he could stay upright for a while, even after towelling things off. When the pair had gone, Night instructed Edelmar to grab the base of the bed. After he’d done so, she grabbed the other end and ordered the release from the floor.


A section of the base separated outwards, putting the strain on strong arms for a second until the anti gravity system came into play and the two could easily move the patient to the isolation bay at the back. By the time they’d got there, Bazil had arrived (in his pyjamas) and started swapping out the other table. Night observed them and quirked an eyeridge and the semi-clad Lappinean females on it. He looked down as he pushed the table past them. “Heh. Gift from the Commander,” he explained. “For my last birthday. I’ll change them.” He bustled off with the table as, despite herself, Sarah gasped a laugh. “He just… ran through the ship with those on!”

“I’ll go easy on him,” Night told Sarah before shouting at a pitch that had both Edelmar and Sarah wincing. “USE THE TELEPORTER TO GET TO YOUR ROOM, BAZIL! CODE 14ALPHA!”

“Thanks,” he called back.

“I’ll change that code with Kinsella later,” Night advised, talking of the emergency ‘I need to be there now!’ code she’d arranged that told the teleport operator it was an emergency and to teleport the requester straight to the location. She frowned at Sarah, then ran a scan over her ears. “Huh. As I say, they’re all different.”

“How… do you mean? It’s Okay, isn’t it?”

“Yes, yes,” Night said, patting the womb. “A baby is the combination of genes,” she reminded her friend needlessly. “It’s affected by all that goes in. This one must have decided it didn’t like your hearing ability. So it seems to have refined it. Your hearing’s now about ten percent sharper than most Human hearing, according to this.” She pointed at the scanner.


Stikka caught Hawle before he got to the medical bay. He put his black and grey furred hands on Aldair’s chest. “I wouldn’t, sir,” he counselled. “I’ve seen enough of these scenes to know it never goes well when the boss turns up at the delivery. Let Night deal with it. She’s the professional.”

Aldair considered it. He suppose that did have the ring of sense about it. Although he wasn’t exactly the boss in ‘Our IX lives’, was he? The intrusive idiot who couldn’t organise a… Oh, yeah. Hang on. He slapped his comm. “Dawton,” he commanded, “tell Reyna she’s taking Chappers’ timeslots for the foreseeable. Maltine can take hers,” he added to Stikka, who accessed the computer, adjusted the rosters and sent confirming mails to everyone involved.

“Done,” the Racon advised.

“Sarina,” Hawle replied, turning around and putting his hand around his second officer’s shoulders, “may do it with a lot more style but nowhere need the speed, Grayson.”

“Understood and appreciated, sir,” he replied. “Are you going to walk on tip-toes all the way to the bridge?”

“I think not,” Hawle replied, removing his hand and dropping an inch or so down to his normal walking height. “You know, I’m going to be quite happy when we get to Dawnicca and find out what the time actually is.”

“You know I have an internal chronometer and could have told you the time whenever you wanted?”

Hawle didn’t stop walking as he talked. “I’ve continually been told not to put you in situations where we can abuse your cyborg capabilities,” he explained. “Other ships don’t have Stikkas so…”

“You’d forgotten, hadn’t you,” Stikka asked as they got to the lift.

“Well, it’s been a busy few days. Now I’m invested in this plan. But it’s three hours to lunchtime, right?”

“Well it’s…” Stikka noted the look in the Commanders’ eye. “Three hours to lunch if you ask me,” he replied.

“Good,” Hawle replied, coming out in the passageway behind the bridge.


They stepped in to where Match had been holding court over Dawton, Tillock and Pawnee at the helm as Caltaya kept running scans from Match’s usual station. “Any news from the Medical bay,” the Professor asked, seemingly interested.

“It is early days, Professor,” Hawle replied. “Tillock, launch the observation probe, would you? Dawton, contact the Silkway and tell them we’re about to head off.” As the officers complied, Hawle walked around to the front to face Match. “Match,” he said sweetly.

“Sir,” Match replied, his elbow on an armrest.

“Get the ‘ell outta my chair! Raven’s not here so take Stikka’s if you have to.”

He didn’t explain. He didn’t have to. They played musical chairs as Stikka took Raven’s first Officer seat.

“Move us off, Pawnee,” he told the Feline as Dawton told him the Raitchians had heard and agreed. “Set course for Dawnicca. Velocity three. Notify all stations. It’s the morning shift, according to Grayson.”


The ship shifted into velocity speeds. Robon watched it happen. “Think I’m here for the trip,” he told Jan in resignation.

[Amazee Dayzee]

I have to admit I am very happy about it being lunchtime soon. Maybe Hawle can get pelted with a WHOLE pie and not just one measly slice this time.

[Welsh Halfwit]

74


Sarafina strained her muscles and helped Katara raise a heavy bulkhead to the ceiling as Kirrie Muir, wearing her anti gravity boots sorted out bonding the plate into the ceiling to finish the repairs in this part of the ship. “So,” she said, looking to keep her mind off the arm strain, “I understand the Humans having her cubs?”

“Yes,” Katara grumbled tightly. “They call them babies, though. Or pups.” She kept her eyes locked on Kirrie’s work as the Mican worked effortlessly. “Probably Pappies for a cross or something.”

“There was one thing I was wondering,” Sarafina asked, dodging a hot droplet.

“Sorry,” Kirrie told her.

“No bother. If the cu...bab...child is born out here, where’s listed as the nationality?”

“Dawnicca,” Katara told her. “Our closest colony and where we’re headed. That’ll always be the place of birth listing. The parents can decide if they want to change the nationality listing to Earth, Russellia or one of the colony worlds important to their family lineage within the first fifty days. Happened with me. In a colonial sense,” she added, releasing the panel and letting it hold itself up before stepping down from the stepladder. “You can let it go now.”

“I think my arms are stuck.”

“They aren’t… oh, for..?” Katara stepped forward, put her hands to Sarafina’s sides and guided her down, away from the plate. It didn’t fall and kill them so Sarafina let her ears fold back up into their normal points. “I almost got labelled as being from a Canine Colony. So, you joining up?”

Sarafina nodded. “I think so,” she continued, picking up the stepladders. “Have I done well enough for a reference?

“It won’t be glowing, girl. You’ve done adequately at what’s been given you. You still have a lot to learn. Command College will help you with that but it’s YOUR challenge to get through it, not theirs to let you. It will NOT be easy.”

“I think I’ll manage. Managed you, boss,” she added, in all seriousness. “Going in under my dad’s name,” she continued as they came close to another pair, trying to get their attention. “Mum’s idea. And I mean the business owner, not the…”

Katara put a hand to Sarafina’s chest. “One moment.” She looked at Jan and the Rat that were standing in her way and spoke to Jan. “What is THIS,” she asked, inclining towards the Raitchian male, “and why is it standing in my way?”

Jan gestured lightly towards her partner and said he was a stuck Engineer as, hands behind her back, Sarafina began walking around to the other side of Katara.

“Elias Robon,” the Raitchian said, shakily offering a hand that Katara ignored. “I was, um, consulting with Jan here when, um, the ships went to velocity? So I’m, um, here until we stop? I...I’m a qualified engineer,” he continued as Sarafina leaned over towards Jan and took a slight sniff, earning herself a gently pushed nose from Jan. “I want to be of use.”

“Seems like you already have been. Specialisms?”

“Power supply and general gophering.”

“I eat Gophers. But Lantee’s down a body in the forward power systems room. Go. Kid, escort this person.” Sarafina, guessing she was ‘kid’, complied and led him away, leaving Jan and Katara as the only two in the hall as Muir had gone a different route, taking advantage of walking on the ceiling. “A Raicarran, Jan,” Katara asked, quirking an eyeridge, “really?”

Jan broke into an embarrassed smile, her cheeks flushing slightly. “He’s a nice guy, Kat. And a lot more honourable than many of them. He helped me deal with something and didn’t ask for anything in return.”

“Seems he got something in return anyway,” Katara replied, walking to her next assignment. “I’m not judging you, except to say you could, probably, have done better but tell me… How’s his hygiene?”

Jan had to laugh as they got to the next thing they needed to fix.


Stikka watched as Hawle paced the carpet in the bridge and gave scant consideration to who the father of Sarah’s baby actually was. The Racon doubted the Russellian was wearing grooves into the flooring downstairs but he reckoned Edelmar’s hand was probably a lot worse off than Hawle’s right now. The last message from Night had been that things were proceeding naturally at pace and she wasn’t going to induce or anything. Not at this stage.

Hawle stopped his pacing. “How long to Dawnicca,” he asked Reyna, the Raitchian now at the helm.

“Thirty seven hours,” she replied.

“So they’re not going to be of much use in a pinch,”

“Good job Night and Daley can cope,” Stikka advised, wondering how he’d only just noticed that name pairing worked like a pulp detective duo, solving crimes in a rain swept city. Beating suspects with their wiles and gut punches and annoying their senior officer and he’d probably watch it, as trite as it was. “The Raicarrans have one Doctor with a speciality in hybrids but I don’t think we want him. We did just wipe his computer files. And I believe he fogged the fellows memories but I might be making that up.”

“I hope you are,” Aldair told him, without agreeing that he didn’t want that guy over here either.


Cedar flaked into a chair as the rush died down and his arms felt like falling off. Hundreds of people needing sustenance and one chef, three food technicians and four barely functioning replication systems to do the hard work. He’d have to fumigate the place as soon as he could as well. His eyes drifted to the left where Brae was looking at him. Not doing anything. Just looking at him. “Oh, hey, uh… Brae, isn’t it?” Cedar forced himself up. “What can I get you?”

Brae stepped over to the machines. “Show me,” he said simply.

Cedar supposed no-one had shown the boy so he stepped over. “It’s fairly simple. You press the button and say what you like. For you, I’d say…”

“What are you liking,” he asked.

“I don’t think your system…”

“What do you like for comfort,” Brae insisted. “Order that.”

“All right but…” Cedar shrugged. It was the kid going have troubles later on as he ordered his favourite replication meal, with cream and takagon leaves over the meat. “I don’t think you’ll…”

“Eat.” Brae said, a smirk on his face. “Think I order for me? Eat.” The muscular boy stood on tiptoes and rubbed noses with Cedar. “You need.”

Cedar had more of a spring in his tired feet as he rubbed back, accepting the command.

[Amazee Dayzee]

This discussion of pregnancy and giving birth makes me wonder how Hawle will be when Elena eventually in a few years gets pregnant. I would much like to act out that labor scene as I imagine instead of screaming expletives towards him Elena would probably beg him to make the pain stop.

[Welsh Halfwit]

75


“Ten hours,” Hawle said rhetorically as he updated his personal logs in his room (Did it feel cold?) He had to find out if anyone on the inside of the ship had a command level cabin. Honestly, they kept most of the vital areas away from the hull and left the officers on the outer layer? He’d need to have a word. He’d need to have a digital porthole put in until they could replace his real one. They’d obviously not had the spare. Groal wasn’t going to be happy. Postlethwaite probably wouldn’t be that happy. Although the new colonists, the answer to several questions and the information on the Kestalan and the Patreeve would help his cause. And the Raicarrans would probably help out. But he was having time to think right now and all he could think about was what was going on in the medical bay. Ten hours. Why was it taking so long? “There’s a child on the way in the medical bay,” he told the log, “and it’s doing all it can to be a real Dawniccan. We’re pushing the engines only as much as Katara recommends because we’re still in dangerous territory. We’ve got long range sensors back in play but, beyond that, extreme range is still out. Now we’re not covered by the burgeoning radiation of the new star – which we’re all very impressed by – none of us really wants to stop to repair anything on the outside of the hull. Especially as we’d need to paint the hull again. We’ve done everything we set out to do – and a fair bit more besides – so it’s time to sprint for home.” He stopped as the door booped and stored the recording before raising the lights ten degrees and inviting the whoever was outside to come in.

“I can come back in the morning,” President Havakar said, seeing Hawle slide himself off the sofa in his pyjamas.

“Nonsense, madame President,” he replied, making sure he was able to stand upright in his fluffy bunny slippers on this repaired floor. “Come in, come in.” He impulsively swiped non existent fur from his sofa. “May I ask what brings you here this late in the evening? Provided it IS evening, of course.”

“It feels like it,” the President said, stepping in with her bodyguard. “The evening of the mission. The evening of my career. I like the epaulettes, by the way.” She took a seat as Hawle took up the chair in the three piece, complete with the thin cushions from someone else’s room.

“Saves me getting dressed if there’s a panic at two in the morning,” Hawle explained.

Havakar nodded in appreciation. “I have come to believe there’s a lot of logic behind your madness, Commander,” she counselled. “A lot of care and consideration for your charges. An understanding that a Captain is nothing without his crew.” She quirked her head to a slight angle to look at him. “I understand it’s a secret that you helped paint this ship?”

Hawle smiled. “When ship’s business involves everyone,” he told her, “sometimes you need to consult everyone. It’s only fair.”

“Is that what they teach at this command college of yours?”

“Ah,” Aldair replied, pouring a glass of Lappinean whisky that Jaqui had given him back earlier, after he’d given it to her on her last birthday. “I’m told she’s impressed Katara. I won’t say the opinion of a Chief Engineer carries a lot of weight in the Command circles but it tells she can handle herself. Katara has destroyed people. Sarafina proved herself. She’s a credit to you.” He raised his pale drink.

“I really had little to do with it,” Havakar acknowledged, raising her own drink and slamming it back. She shook her head against the fire and breathed out. “Tutors and nannies mainly. I was just the senior who tucked her up in bed at night and, sometimes, read her a bedtime story.”

“I’ll bet she knows them all, ma’am,” Aldair replied. “I remember all the tales my mother used to read to me at night, and it wasn’t because they were good tales. In fact ones like ‘Tuppenny Troula and the waterfall’ and ‘Gimbert the Gentle Grizzella’ are probably some of the worst books printed in any language, by any species. But I remember them. Because no-one could read them like my mother. She’d spend all day pressuring me to go into the family business – drink making,” he added, turning the bottle so the President could see the label. “I’d spend all day dreaming of exploring. She knew, I think. But she was busy running the company, ready for me or one of the others to take over. But, at the end of every day she could, she’d read to me. And the business person would melt into these different voices and phrases. She’d add her own touches and flourishes, her own gestures and expressions and, along the line, the person I wanted to know as my mother would come through. It might only last five minutes but there she was. More than the bullying, sharp-toned, driven force. I’m not even sure she knew it was happening.”

“And you ran away.”

Aldair shrugged, letting his epaulettes jiggle as he put back his drink and refilled the glasses. “Had to,” he admitted. “It became blindingly apparent that my life wasn’t going to willingly go in the way she wanted. I had to choose to go or stay and become someone I really didn’t fancy becoming. I signed up behind her back, as soon as I could.”

“Was she upset,” Havakar asked.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Hawle admitted, waiting until Havakar was about to speak before continuing. “I’d say apocalyptic. Screams. Threats. Locking me in. Freezing my bank accounts. Ostracising me from the family for the best part of a decade. She couldn’t let go. I can see that, now I’m with Elena. The ties that bind are unbelievably strong.”

“I know that.” She took a more measured approach to the drink this time. “You’re saying I need to loosen them?”

“I’m saying that, if you don’t, she will. She’s confident enough to take the next steps for herself but she still needs you in her corner, ma’am. She needs to know you’ll support her. Back her in her endeavours. I’m just about back on pleasant speaking terms with my mother now. To the point she might even meet Elena in person before the wedding.”

“It’s because you’re in danger of becoming a celebrity, Aldair. Have you seen the graphic book?”

“Once or twice. They needed my permission to take the likeness. I believe they adjusted the names – Hopper for Loper and the like – so they don’t have to keep paying us and they acknowledge they make the stories up. But it was just a limited run. I understand it didn’t sell very well.”

Havakar smirked the grin of a predator as she took another mouthful. “Whoever told you that lied,” she warned. “My first job was in Gal-zine publishing. I checked back when you were about to rescue me from that stupid liner. I never forget a face or a name. You’re the face of the U.S.C. on Lappara these last few years.”

“Oooookayyyy...”

[Amazee Dayzee]

Bet Hawle didn't expect to become so well-known and like a celebrity back on Lappara? I honestly thought his claim to fame would be in funny videos where he gets hit with WHOLE pies.

[Welsh Halfwit]

76


Replete in fluffy slippers and epaulettes, Hawle made his way to the bridge and took up his post as Stikka moved to one side. The Racon looked down at the footwear. “Don’t you trip over the ‘ears’, sir?” he asked.

“You’ve seen me in these before,” Hawle replied, ignoring the giggles from the other people on the bridge as he wiggled his foot to make the ‘ears’ jiggle. “What’s the flick, Greyson?”

“I figured that you should be alerted,” he replied, indicating Maltine at the helm. “Bring it up, Maltine,” he told the Celican. The picture changed, focussing on a Patreeve Dart in space.

“Ah,” Hawle said. “Let me guess. She’s in our way?”

“No,” Stikka replied, sitting back in his chair and flexing his fingers, “but she’s not that far out of it either. Give us six hours or so and we’ll be passing close to her.”

Six hours, Aldair thought. A lot of things could happen in six hours. He could get dressed for one thing. Have breakfast. Sarah might even manage to give birth. He checked the latest from Night. She was back on duty after Dayley had taken a shift and had admitted she’d called Fuze in as she reckoned she was about to have to intervene medically in the procedure. With hybrids, they always erred on the side of caution, bringing them into medical earlier in the contractions but fourteen hours was pushing it. And Sarah was getting tired of it. Night didn’t blame her. To be honest, nor did Hawle. His mother had said that her first had been like passing a bowling ball through a golf hole. By the time it had come to him it was like launching a missile and going home for coffee. That’s what she said, anyhow. “I have time to get dressed then,” Hawle asked directly.

“If you hurry, you can even have breakfast.” Stikka remarked, wondering why Hawle was glancing askew at him. “What,” he asked, “I can make smart comments too.”

Hawle broke into a light smile. “Never said you couldn’t Greyson,” he told him before standing up and releasing his chair to the Racon. “You could have just commed me with this, you know?”

“And miss out on the bunny slippers, sir?”

“Keep us on course. The Patreeve focussed on us during our first encounter with them on this trip. Even when the Kestalans opened fire on them, they kept on us. It may be they regarded us as easy prey due to lack of coating. They might well ignore us now we are coated. But notify Katara… or whoever’s in charge of Engineering – I’ve seen what she’s like when woken in the middle of the night for anything other than an immediate crisis – to do what’s needed. Then signal the Raicarrans. Tell them we’re going straight on. I’ll be back, as the big Australian Human actor used to say.”


After Hawle had changed into his normal uniform and left the bed unmade, he took a stimulant drink and headed for Cedar’s canteen. Being night-time, the Mican wasn’t there but his apprentice, a late teen Celican called Talaxar, was washing down the tables and the front of the vending machines. “Good morning, sir,” he said with far too much jollity, “what can I get you?”

Hawle looked through the selection in the machines. “I don’t see any Saybry Salad in here.”

“Uh,” the Celican cringed, “no, sir. Chief Pangal took the last two an hour back.” The Vixen’s ears flicked upward. “I can make you a Hastat salad, though! We have the ingredients and Cedar’s been teaching me..!”

Hawle nodded slightly. “Tried it out before?”

“You’ll be the first.” She put her hands together and did her best attempt at eye widening as she pleaded to be given the chance to prove herself.

“No begging, Tala,” Hawle remarked, using the shorter version of her name as many Celicans dropped the last part of their name when not being formal. “I appear to have time. Go ahead.” As she epped and headed for the kitchen, Hawle slipped an antacid tablet and got a coffee from the machine.


Jan added an extra crew to the repairs on the starboard power conduits, detailing Robon to join the team but reminding him that he was under Engineer Raston’s command. Robon had already decided he wasn’t that much of a fan of the Human, who seemed to be spending most of the time talking about what a hit he was with the ladies. As the team he led worked to make sure the power lines didn’t fail if there was any fight. He remarked that he’d never seen power lines laid out like this before. It seemed over efficient, more than was normally needed for standard weapons.

“Ah, but ours have been upgraded,” Raston tattled. “We’ve been trying out upgraded weapons on those things,” he continued before half the team reminded him he wasn’t supposed to talk about that stuff with the Raicarran.

Robon laughed aloud. “You think I hadn’t known about the upgrades,” he said, looking to save the Human’s blushes as no-one had told him about the upgrades. “Raicarra made us aware of them when sending us out. I think they’re quite excited about the possibilities.” He sighed as he finished checking the alignment of the flow through the repaired section. “They’ll pay someone to send them the plans, of course.” He noted them making glances at the panel. “I need to survive for it to be me, guys.”

Raston put a hand on his shoulder as they headed to the next station. “You didn’t know anything about it, did you,” he asked.

“Nah. Made sense to cover, though. Why make an opposition where you can make a friend?”

“Good point. And may I say well done to you for getting the lovely Jan?”

“I didn’t ‘get’ anyone, sir. She’s not a possession. But I accept your congratulations.” Robon wondered if it would cause an incident for a Raicarran engineer to punch out a U.S.C. Engineer as the Human patted his shoulder.


“I think it’s a good thing we were out here,” Talaxar told Hawle as he ate. He hadn’t even asked her the question but she felt free to tell him as he ate the salad and found it wasn’t too bad – with the antacid’s help? “I mean we helped answer a lot of questions and saved a lot of people and I know we did as Cedar told me.”

“How did your parents feel,” Hawle asked, “with you being trained by a FieldMican?”

She gave a wry twist of the lip. “I’m gonna qualify before I tell ‘em,” she confided. “They say you can be friends with prey but never work for them.”

Hawle ran that through his head. “They don’t even know you joined the U.S.C., do they?”

Her eye glinted and her tail swept the floor as she replied. “Nope! And…” She paused as his comm audibly beeped.

He answered it. “Hawle here.”

<“Want to come meet your new crew member,”> an audibly exhausted Night said. He closed the comm.

“Tell them,” he advised Talaxar as he headed for the door, leaving half the salad uneaten. “They can’t stop you now. If anyone wants me, I’ll be in the medical bay.” Her ears drooped and her face fell. Until his hand appeared, keeping the door open. “Sarah’s had her baby, I’m not going because of the food!”

[Amazee Dayzee]

Having a baby on the ship for a while is gonna be fun! Lets see how Hawle takes to being the cool uncle while the child is there during everything. LOL

[Welsh Halfwit]

77


Hawle made his way down to the medical bay and into the main room, where Bazil was checking over one of the rescued of an unknown race with pale green fur and a Raitchian style tail. The occupant had more of a Canine muzzle and a physique that spoke of long times in the fields and down the mines. “Bazil,” Hawle asked.

“Hmm?”

“Why is he only wearing a loincloth?”

“I don’t know,” the Doctor replied, finishing his scans of the time worn and toughened hands. He let the patient put his hand down. “The translator systems are still learning his language. There’s about thirty of them, by the by. Up to a half hour back I had one of the Mican colonists assisting. They know enough of their old language that the translator works with them and they have a working knowledge of the Cysellian here…” Neither of them failed to flinch as the table’s occupant looked at them sharply at the mention of his race’s name. “He recognised that,” Bazil muttered as the unknown opened his mouth uncertainly and put a hand to his chest.

“K...Kala,” he said, his tone uncertain and his gaze hopeful.

Hawle, desperate to move on, was nevertheless intrigued. He pointed to the creature. “Kala?” The being nodded quickly. Hawle took his finger and pointed at himself. “Hawle,” he said. The creature repeated it, getting it right on the third attempt. Hawle pointed at Bazil, who waved. “Bazil.”

Kala pointed up and Hawle rolled his eyes in his head until he remembered he couldn’t see out of his own head. “Ers,” Kala said happily.

“It’s always the first thing they notice,” Hawle admitted to Bazil as the Doctor snickered.

“I think the translator’s beginning to come in,” the Doctor admitted, hiding his mouth behind his hand as Hawle bent over so the stranger could touch one of the appendages of choice.


A moment later Hawle entered the isolation area and tried not to breathe in as the mad cacophony of scents and smells in the room. Polva, replete with bandaged hand, walked over to him as Sarah held the child in blankets and the Russellian glomped the Commander into a hug that Aldair decided he was going to allow. “Busy day, Edelmar,” he said, returning the embrace as he knew no-one would blame him.

“Longest of my life, s...sir.”

“You get to call me Aldair when not on duty, Edelmar.” He pulled back a little. “Note how I didn’t call you Polva? Now, may I see?”


Sarah showed him a creature he already knew something about. Well, he knew it was a male from Nights’ prior scans. He’d not known the creature would have the slight barrel chest of the Russelians, human hands with small pads on the fingers, human style ears and a slight muzzle that didn’t look entirely canine under his tight shut eyes. He couldn’t help but notice the skin was slightly mottled, some areas more Human pink than others. “Hello, handsome,” he said softly, putting a finger to the creature’s nose when Sarah said he could. Taking his scent would help him associate with the adult, according to.. Aldair took the tip of his finger out of the baby’s mouth and Sarah let him feed as Aldair stepped back. “Quite a child you have there, you two,” he said, trying not to look.

“Quite a godchild you’ve got,” Sarah replied, sounding as tired as she looked.

“Have you decided on a na…” Hawle’s ear drooped as his brain took in what Sarah had just said. “Oh, I accept,” he added positively. “Absolutely, definitely.”

“The name’s Tomal,” Edelmar said. “A mixture of both our father’s names. We thought it was a good way to honour both of them.”


Hawle stepped away to let the family bond and caught up with Night in a corner of the room. “You look exhausted,” he told the Mican as she slumped over the desk.

“Funny,” she told her arms, “I feel it too.” She looked up. “The Human delivery system is not quite designed for the physical characteristics of the Canine birth,” she said quietly, “and Tomal is definitely more physically Canine than Human. I had to do a small assist in the delivery that’s going in my notes for medical researchers – if the parents permit,” she added.

“Already said you could,” Sarah called over.

“And there’s that,” Night added, referring to Sarah’s hearing. “Don’t know how THAT happened.”

“I noted the skin,” Aldair said, “some patches are more Human than others?”

Night waved a hand. “There are things we can do to stimulate fur growth in crossbreed infants,” she said dismissively. “We learned a lot from the likes of Feldar Jones. The Human/Feline cross that leads the IOC team on Pandera.”

“I know the one.” Hawle couldn’t recall if he’d met him yet. Human features, Orange fur and, if he wanted to go undercover as a Human, he had to shave his entire face, neck and hands three times a day. Sounded exhausting. “Is he healthy?”

“Yup. Twelve pounds seven, by the way. Did it in Sarah’s home measurements. 5.6 kilo. For the weight pool.”

“I was point three out,” Aldair replied, knowing he’d have to tell the pool originator, Harvey. And that Night would tell him so he had to tell the truth.

“We… far out from Dawnicca, Aldair,” Sarah said from her bed. Hawle didn’t know what small operation Night had needed to perform to assist and, judging by how awkwardly Sarah was shifting in the bed, he didn’t want to know.

“About a day, Sarah. Something like that. Maltine’s filling in for you at the moment. She can handle a straight shot like this.”

Sarah looked at him with a little curiosity. She cocked her head slightly as Tomal drank. Hawle thought she must have picked that up from Polva. “That concern I hear, sir? What’s up?”

“Nothing much. There’s a Dart close by our path. We don’t believe it’s detected us. If it does, we’ll be shuttling you three to the Raicarran vessel and engaging. No arguing on this one. Godparent’s orders.”

[Amazee Dayzee]

Chuckled out loud when Hawle realized he was gonna be the godfather of the baby. Might give him practice for when he and Elena eventually have their own kids (though that will be if we can eventually get to roleplaying anything.)

[Welsh Halfwit]

78

The clock ticked down after Stikka spoke to Night, compared times based on the time she’d recorded and when it was when she spoke to him and he’d provided her with an accurate time of birth that had Night glaring at Aldair until he apologised for forgetting he could simply ask Stikka. Night snickered and Hawle realised that he’d heard that. He’d taken a few pictures with himself and the baby, himself, Polva and Tomal and, finally, himself, Tomal and Sarah pretending to strangle him to get the baby back. At least he was pretty sure she was pretending. Then he sent copies to Colleen, Cedar and Raven and put one of each in storage to be sent to Elena as soon as they linked to Galnet. Then he’d made his way to the bridge to show Stikka, who wasn’t really interested.

Stikka, of course, didn’t reveal he’d copied the photos from the medical bay cameras and stored them in his protected memory.


Now, though, Hawle, Tillock and Patchway were in attendance in the conference room, Patchway attending by vidlink from his ship. “So,” Hawle asked, “thoughts on the dart?”

“It’s nae shift’d,” Tillock remarked, leaning on the table to make himself seem more important. “Could be deid.”

<“I’m not sure I want to trust that,”> Patchway replied, shifting his position on camera slightly. <“We know how dangerous these things can be. I’m not sure either of us is up to fighting one of these in our current conditions.”>

“Speak fer yuirself,” Tillock groused.

“And I’ll speak for us, Kirkin,” Aldair announced. “Although your counsel is important.” He poured a glass of water and offered the jug to the Mican, who declined with a wave of the hand. “We’ve proven we can hurt these things but we know they can hurt us too. Do we have any probes still loaded?”

“Aye, Y’thinkin’ a loadin’ oor transponder on one an’ seein’ if that baw fer brains follows it?”

“Actually,” Hawle replied brightly, after thinking exactly that, “I was thinking of loading several up with nuclear explosives and firing them at it from long range but, as we don’t have any Nuclear explosives, we’ll do your idea instead!” He clapped his hands together. “Sounds like a plan. Patchway, got any probes you can donate to the Patreeve peeving?”

<“I shall see what we have in stock. How many do you.. I mean Weapons Officer Tillock recommend?”> Hawle moved himself slightly out of camera range and lifted his glass. To take a drink.

Tillock looked directly into the camera. “Ah’d suggest…” He noted the two fingers Hawle had raised to him around the side of his mug and considered them. Either the Commander was flashing him an insult that would get his fingers broken in Dundee or, perhaps..? “Two each,” he said. “Nae sense in o’er confusin’ the scunner.”

<“Is your translator working properly,”> Patchway asked curiously. <“I’m having trouble understanding you?”>

“It has trouble with local dialects,” Hawle reminded him. “But let’s get our transponders loaded onto two probes each and fire them off in varied directions that go past that dart. None at Dawnicca, though. Or any other U.S.C. Colonies.”

“An’ thay Kestalans?”

“Drones don’t like them much and they can defend themselves. Patchway, you still ready to receive a scientists entourage, a President’s group and a new family if needed?”

<“We’re pushed but I think we even have room for a shuttle pilot, provided they don’t leave their shuttle. And our Engineer?”>

Hawle did his best ‘innocent’ look that wouldn’t fool a five year old. “Did you leave one of those here? I’ll see if I can find them after we get to Dawnicca.” He cut the link and congratulated Kirkin on his plan.

“Y’mean mah agreein’ wi’ yuir plan?”

“Ah, I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page.” He stepped around and clapped the Mican on the shoulder. “Especially as you’ll need to do the work. Get Goole to help you. Tell him I’ll approve his weekend leave on Dawnicca if he does.”

“Bribin’ th’ guy,” Tillock asked warily.

“No, I approved it an hour ago. But he doesn’t need to know.”


Colleen could feel the tension in the ship as she headed to meet the Captain Aldair had spoken of once or twice. She’d been told there was a dart nearby and it was clear the refugees knew exactly what that meant. They were silent, still thronging the halls where mothers fed babies, elders argued with others and at least one had needed restraining. Amongst the Micans there were species she’d never seen before and she wondered how well they’d manage in the colonies. Someone might even give them a small ship if they wanted to head back home. The darts, of course, would still be a problem. She stepped over an adult Mican as they slept on the floor and knocked politely on Utraya’s door. The door opened and she walked in. “Good afternoon, Captain,” she said, looking around at the dishevelled room. “How are you today?”

“Ztill not zleeping,” he replied, standing from the chair he’d clearly slept in. Wearing the same clothes he’d been in yesterday, he stepped forward to clear a broken clock off the sofa. “Plus there’z refugees in my bed.” Colleen looked in to see three out cold on the bed. “Well, I’m not uzing it.” He closed the door between the two rooms. “I don’t think much of closing my eyez.”

“Still fearing you won’t be able to fix them if they go wrong,” Colleen said gently as she made sure all the glass was gone and took a seat.

“What I saw down there,” he replied, “I’m not sure I’d want to fix tit.”

“If you’re anything like that lot on the Loper,” she told him, “you’ll take whatever happened to you and make the Universe better for it. I note that’s a family unit in there,” she added, thumbing to the bedroom.

“Doesn’t hurt.” Utraya shrugged. “They were kind to me zo I’m kind to them. I don’t need to use the room right now so…”

“They’re a connection, Solomon. It’s a good thing. As for the sleep thing, I could have Harvey come over and…”

Solomon laughed angrily. “I don’t need a telepath in my head, Una. Not yet anyhow. But I’ll keep it in mind. Zee,” he added harshly, “I made a joke. I’ll be fine.”

“Humour is a step toward fine,” Colleen agreed. “You forget who the leader of my ship is. I know humour can be a mask to get through tight times. But he talks to people too. When there’s a tough decision he’ll talk. Sometimes to Raven. Sometimes to me. Sometimes to Cedar. I hear that, recently, he went on a spacewalk on the hull to talk to maintenance workers. Who do you have?”

“Company sponzored psychotherapists,” Solomon replied. “People who’ll stop me flying until I come down into the norms. No-one who knowz what I went through.”

Colleen looked at him coolly. “I think there’s hundreds who know something about it, Solomon. There’s three of them in your bed. Helping isn’t always about talking, Captain. It’s about finding people you can talk with. Let them lead the talk and join in when you like. It could help.”


And they talked as the probes launched.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Hawle really needs to work on his "innocent" look them if he wants to make it seem genuine and fool people with it. I know someone who has a GREAT innocent look...

[Welsh Halfwit]

The simple reason for this plot is... I forgot I'd injured Match!

79

Hawle sat forward in his chair as the probes travelled away from the two ships in a number of directions whilst maintaining the same speed. He was waiting… waiting… “OK, send the signals, Dawton. Activate their transponders. Tell the Raicarrans to do likewise.” He looked around as Match tried to hide a gasp of breath. “What’s wrong with you,” he asked.

“It’s nothing serious, sir. Just a bit bruised after the asteroid.”

“A week ago? Right. Sling your hook, Match. Down to the medical bay. Stikka?”

“I’ll take the science station,” the Racon answered pre-emptively.

“Are you still here, Match?”

“Is ‘no’ the correct answer,” the Raitchian replied, transferring the codes over to his replacement so Stikka wouldn’t need to log in.

“Only when I can’t hear you.”


Match made his way through the ship, thinking it probably wasn’t needed. After all, there just seemed to be bruising and no punctures in the skin so… OK, he thought as a shard of pain lanced his side, that wasn’t great. The technician he’d been passing clearly saw the look on his face and backed away whilst another moved to assist. Now it was Match’s turn to be surprised. It was Zowaix. The grizzling scientist put Match’s arm around his shoulders and held him up with little effort, Match watching the long claws the Brockian put on his side carefully. When he winced, Zowaix moved the hand down slightly. “How long have you had it, idiot,” he asked, catching Match by surprise.

“W..what,” he asked in reply, holding on as they headed for the medical bay.

“The broken rib,” Zowaix snarled. “You’re a scientist and you couldn’t feel it? You’re all soft down there and it’s not from lack of exercise.”

“I… I thought it was just bruising. I got it… on the away mission…”

“Like ‘ell it’s bruising you nit!” Zowaix grumbled as he prepared to open the door to the medical bay. “I’ve told them there’s dangers with using Zopenital as the pain killer in those suits. It’s powerful to keep people fighting but people often forget they were hurt.” He helped Match into the room, handing him off to Bazil, who helped him up onto a bed. “Broken or cracked rib,” Zowaix informed before either of the others had opened their mouths. “Zopenital in play. He’s had it a week and is only just now feeling it.”

“Well,” Fuze told Match, lying him down, “that covers your part. Think I’ll still run scans for mine. Thank you, Zowaix,” he added, dismissing the Brockian without dismissing him as he noted the scientist sidling over towards the isolation section and guessed why he might have been trying to head here anyway. “I’ll tell them you dropped by,” he added, mockshaming the scientist into umming and ahing and heading out of the bay. “He’s probably right,” Fuze told Match as he ran the scanner over him to confirm the diagnosis.

“He usually… is,” Match agreed.

“And there it is, yup. Broken rib, lower left side. Not badly out of place but it has been doing a bit of ‘rubbing’ on your Diaphragm. I’ll have to operate. Hey,” the youth added brightly, “I get to hatch a patch on Match!”

Match winced. And not at the physical pain.


Hawle watched the screen, as he hoped Raven was doing on the Raicarran ship. Essentially she was there to help Patchway but, if she wasn’t making most of the decisions over there, he’d eat a pair of Dawton’s socks. Raw. The drones were close enough to the dart n… And there it went, twisting around and jetting towards drone VF-IV, disguised as the Loper. And revealing another Dart right behind it that headed after one of the Raicarran drones. A smile spread across Hawle’s face as he reasoned out the fact that it had been an ambush attempt. It seemed these things could do tactics after all. Simplistic tactics but it would have worked. “Dawton,” he advised, “send to the Raicarran vessel that we’re going back to full speed immediately. Katara says we can achieve velocity four so we’re going to that.”

Maltine, the vixen at the helm, turned towards the. “Didn’t she say ‘velocity four if we fancied shaking all the china off the tables, sir?”

“She exaggerates,” he replied, hoping she didn’t see the crossed fingers behind his back. “And, besides, that was four point three. We’ll do fine, Maltine. So,” he added as she shifted back around in the chair, “buckle up and put your foot down.”

She shook her head sweetly. “Aye, sir,”

Hawle buckled up quickly, just in case.


Katara heard the rattling as the request came to engineering and she thought about cursing the Rabbit lunatic out but considered better of it. He wasn’t going to maximum – quite – and she had told him the buckled ship could handle it for a short while at least and there was a Raicarran spy in their midst. It was one thing to cuss him out with the people of the ship but Robon wasn’t one of them. He was useful, it seemed, but still a spy. “Alright,” she told the others, “to your stations. Keep the power flow to the engines as steady as you can. The computer will do most of the work but don’t trust it to do all of it!”

“Can I ask why not,” Robon asked, making Jan cringe before Katara could round on him.

“Because this ship recently got the krukk blown out of it and we haven’t had time, what with the major repairs, to make sure everything’s working correctly yet. Automatic systems may still be down. Fair enough?”

Robon got the hint. He merely nodded. “Of course, Chief. Where do you want me?”

Katara muttered something under her breath. “Monitoring the power flow to sector 8. Jan can show you where that is.”

Having dismissed him as an irrelevance for the moment, Katara got back to her monitoring of the overall situation whilst she wrote a guarded recommendation for Sarafina.

“I think she likes you,” Jan told Robon as they headed for the station.

“Nah. She likes YOU,” he replied. “She’s tolerating me because of it. Never mind her,” the Raitchian shrugged, “show me this sector, eh?” He took her hand and she led him on.


“Sensors are still fuzzy at this range,” Stikka advised from the sciences station, “but I think one of the darts has turned around.

“Four point one, Maltine,” Hawle advised. “We’re running for home.”

[Amazee Dayzee]

I wonder how many people using Zopenital in the suits were fatally injured and didn't know it until they succumbed to their injuries? That can't be a good look for the people that manufacture the drug.

[Welsh Halfwit]

80

The command deck rattled as the ship shook and shuddered and Hawle realised that most of the noise of the last half hour was coming from his chair armrest where the Mint Imperials were stored. He had to hold the hatch down as he figured that small, white, sugary balls rolling around the floor wouldn’t help anything right now. He examined the other readings. “Maltine,” he said, trying not to bite his tongue, “Katara is swearing at me in texts. Slow us down to three point nine.” He turned to Stikka. “Grayson, position of that dart.”

“Returning to it’s previous, sir.”

“Are we far enough away to avoid detection?”

“We can slow enough to stop your chair rattling, sir.”

“But you wouldn’t stop just yet. Got it. Maltine, make it three point five.”

“Aye, sir. With all pleasure.”

“Keep an eye on it, Stikka.” Hawle remained in his seat but pulled up a direct feed to the medical bay to keep an eye on the new family.


Bazil finished his work on Match and finished sealing the wound up as his fellow Raitcian decided to stop bleeding on the bed. Another layer would need to be removed from the gyro stabilized system, he reasoned as he gave the science officer a stimulant to bring him back around. “How’re you feeling,” he asked as Match opened his red tinged eyes.

“Like someone’s just opened up my side, put a hand in and cracked a rib back into place,” Match told him groggily.

“Trouble with you scientists is that you have no imagination. How’s the breathing?”

“Hurts every time I try it. Beats the alternative, though.”

“It does.” Fuze tossed some fabric at the ship’s senior Raitchian.

He looked at the upside down garment with confusion until her realised it was his shirt and he could feel the air conditioning run through his fur. He pulled the garment over his head and on. “Do I need to thank you,” he asked, feeling every movement as he stretched his arms and pulled it on. He thought about shifting around to get off the table but decided his wounds wanted him to give it more time. A fair amount more time. “Any idea of our position?”

Fuze sniffed. “I’m standing upright. You’re lying on a bed. Over there’s an alien,” he added, gesturing to Kala, who meekly waved before talking to Gilly again as she recorded the talk to help the automated translation system. “If you mean in space,” Bazil continued, putting down his tools, “we’re about three hours from the border and seven from Dawnicca. The ship’s recently stopped trying to shake itself apart so we’re not at top speed. Anything more you’ll need to get from the bridge.”

Match tried to stand again and got further this time as Bazil moved to turn the feed off after getting a call. “The Commander says I shouldn’t have told you that and he’ll have Pangal carry you to your quarters if you even try.”


Detective Brunton, for his pat, was sat opposite Pangal in her office. She was making sure of upcoming things on the basis of ‘just when you think it’s all over, someone sticks the boot in’. “So, what’s the Professor’s plans on Dawnicca,” she asked straight. Dawton laid out the itinerary of talks with local dignitaries and scientists who’d, apparently, all booked rooms at the local three star hotel and conference centre as half of them couldn’t afford a five star and Dawnicca didn’t have one anyhow. The Detective laid out the schematics and the security details for the meeting and Jaqui added her bits and pieces. The Professor was done with the sciences. He’d achieved what he’d set out to do but, she worried, the exact formulations were still in his head alone. There was still the possibility of kidnap and coercion. “I’ll admit I don’t know all the local players,” Brunton admitted, “but I’ve done as good a job as I can.”

“I agree,” Jaqui replied. “For a Detective, you’re not bad as a preventative.”

“That sounds like a veiled insult,” he responded, feigning a little hurt.

“It wasn’t.” she replied, stroking an ear back upright as she gestured at the diagram on the screen. “You have most of the points covered and there’s a jammer system to block teleports…”

“It doesn’t block ALL teleports,” Marius said from the doorway, where the Alsan was leaning on it, his legs and arms crossed. “Sorry,” he continued, “was just coming by when I hear you talking about teleport jammers. On Dawnicca?”

“It has nothing to do with you,” Brunton declared, before relenting as he reasoned the Canine might just have something important to say. “But, I suppose I can hear what you have to say.”

“Go ahead, Marius,” Jaqui added.

Marius sucked his teeth for a moment. “OK. The only place I know of on the colony with a teleport jammer is the Parson’s Conference centre and hotel. My gang… my OLD gang,” he corrected, “know all about it. They also have a hardwired system built in to one of the upper rooms. Allows direct teleport into room 417.”

Dawton ran his finger across the listings and frowned. There didn’t seem to be any listings for that room, despite the fact that the rooms around it were listed. He mentioned that to the thug.

“Well, of course not. The Deputy Manager kept it off the listings.” Marius peeled himself off the door frame and walked in, his poise confident despite the two ankle tags flashing sedately. “There’s been a number of deals worked there by people who are under observation and ‘at home’ at the time.”

“Then I’d put a couple of people outside the room,” Pangal added, indicating a couple of places a guard in armour could wait. “My guards. You’re not invited,” she told Marius.

“Of course not,” he replied, raising his hands in supplication. “I’m not with them any more, am I? All ties broke.”

“We’ll see about that,” David replied cautiously, before looking at his comm. “Seems the Professor wants me,” he said, swinging himself upright and leaving the room.

“I think he meant to say ‘thank you’, Marius,” Jaqui postulated.

“Nothing to thank me for,” he replied, stepping around to Jaqui’s side of the desk. “I’m doing what’s best for me, aren’t I? There might even be the chance to get something I want as well as something I need to do.”

“I don’t…” Jaqui lost herself for words as he put his hands to her sides and pulled her in for a kiss. She didn’t hate it and even put her hands on his sides to hold herself steady.


The Loper returned to Council Space as her office door finally closed.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Truly a really wonderful chapter that you have posted here and it fits well! Really nice job on putting it all together!

[Welsh Halfwit]

81


Aldair sat at the back of the conference hall as Professor Caltaya laid out his theories and proofs about how hard and intense the research had been in the Sunbringer missile over the last two decades. He was talking about pressures and timeframes and the arguments he’d had with noted scientists – all of whom he’d proved wrong, Aldair noted – over the topics. He acknowledged the help he’d had from certain scientists (although he didn’t mention Durness from the Savval, he note) and he was beginning to regret having been invited. He was only half an hour into the presentation and, involving the inevitable Question and answer session, this was scheduled to last all day. He settled back behind the group of scientists and professionals who had half the hotels in Dawnicca booked and had probably boosted the colony economy by five hundred percent. He took a sip of his soda through a straw and offered some to Colleen, sat by his side. She shook her head as Caltaya passed the podium to Donikka, who looked around with fear before he saw something that made him stand a little taller and take confidence. Aldair whispered to Colleen. “Is it bad I’m rooting for a gangster assault right now,” he asked.

“Little bit,” she replied, clearly as disinterested as he was but able to hide it better due to her training. Zowaix, sat to her other side, shushed her. “Apologies, Ignini,” she said, surprising Aldair. He’d forgotten Zowaix had a first name.


Brunton had his line in with the local IOC office in the area and was running names and lists through agent Whitestar, dotting I’s and crossing t’s where it came to the science of finance investigations with regards the local law enforcers and attendees. Finances often pointed the way to need and motive in his eye as well as creating weaknesses in what should be a concrete wall of protection. As it was, he approached Sergeant Caledon, the leader of the Canine and Mican force present at the conference centre and took him to an alcove. “Thought you’d like to know,” he said, “I’ve had a friend checking into the finances of everyone here, looking for problems…”

“That,” the Canine snarled, baring his teeth and preparing to take Brunton by the lapels, “is not only highly unethical but illegal without a warrant…”

“Didn’t have time for that,” Brunton replied, stepping away from the hands before they grasped him. “And it’s not official. All of your team checked out. Except Officer Barnswick.”

“Of course they… Barnswick? Why do you say he didn’t check out?”

“A two thousand credit payment into his account yesterday evening. Well, his mothers’ account.”

Now he did let the Sergeant put hands on his shoulders. “You had our FAMILIES checked too?”

“Detectives follow the money,” Brunton replied. “We need to ask about this, Sergeant. In case it’s something. Where is Barnswick?”

“He’s checking the rooms. Floor two.”

“Right. We’d…” Brunton paused. “He’s what?”


Jaqui heard Brunton over the comm and wondered if the Mican was running. It certainly seemed, between the breathing, that he was talking about the need to check every room on floor two as security might have been compromised and she acknowledged the fact. She decided they couldn’t risk sending teams down to the level from the floor they were on but she took the liberty of moving one of her teams to the stair area to react quickly if needed. This was still the primary suspect for the way in. They’d found the hardwire teleport boost since they’d known to look for it. They’d also found the security camera cut-off in the deputy manager’s office and disabled it without his knowledge after Brunton had taken him aside to discuss plans. On the Council’s ticket they’d gotten in as last minute extra security. But, if a hardwire had been installed elsewhere..?


The Sergeant and Brunton, having dashed to the elevators, got out on the target floor and headed towards where Barnswick had last been seen. The Mican had separated from his partner to search more rooms more quickly and he’d last been seen in room 23 and. There he was. The pair slowed to a walk, as though everything was OK. “Any troubles in there,” the Sergeant asked.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” the officer replied as Brunton worked his fingers to find out who was in room 23. “What’s brought you up, sirs?”

“We’re double checking things, Barnswick,” Brunton advised, using the control key he’d been given to open 22. “Have you checked in here yet?”

“Ten minutes ago,” the slightly concerned Officer replied, wondering why the bodyguard was asking the questions. “What..?”

“Well, I doubt anything’s changed but let’s check, the three of us?”

“Come on,” the Bordan style Collian Sergeant said, inclining his head as Brunton entered the room.


With the Sergeants hand on his arm, Barnswick didn’t have much choice but to follow into the politely attired room, where Brunton was sat on the bed. “Scent of maylaflowers,” he observed. “Usually used to cover up scents I don’t think I’d like to think about. Did you check the sideboard? The power outlets?”

“Why,” Barnswick asked, shrugging, “would I need to check them?”

“You never know where you’re going to find things,” Caledon intoned. “That’s why you check everywhere.”

“Mmm,” Brunton agreed, pocketing a little pack of cookies from the side of the little kettle. “Power points. Sideboards… relatives bank accounts.” He watched Barnswick freeze at the mention and worked out what he was going to do next. “Sergeant, could you hold Officer Barnswick’s arms? He’s about to try to run. Or go for his weapon.” The steel like grip locked on to the Mican’s arms, trapping him whilst Brunton stepped over and took Barnswick’s belt off him. His trousers began to fall down.


Pangal heard Dawton’s comm signal from the Loper, where Stikka had been left in command. The relay system Gilly had set up to monitor the teleport feed had picked up an incoming signal just as Brunton sent in his own signal. She was on the wrong floor. They ere coming in on floor two now.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Just found out one of Hawle's weaknesses: having to sit through a very boring research conference. I am just gonna ferret away that information for now.

[Welsh Halfwit]

Time for her to have some fun...

82


The Sergeant called half his troops to floor two as the sounds of teleporting faded away and the door next door opened. Brunton held himself back until the feet had clattered past, towards the elevator, before he opened the door and almost took a bolt to the head as the last member of the gang fired on him. He fired back and half the group stopped in their tracks to cover the others, who continued on their way towards the main conference area. The Sergeant pulled Brunton back in to save his life as the door began to shut between them and the assailants.


Jaqui had the elevators stay on, just for the moment. She watched from her control point as the trio of assailants got in and started down to the foyer. It didn’t make much sense, she reasoned. The foyer was a choke point, impossible for them to get through once, let alone twice. She turned the power off to the elevator with the trio in there. It was happening exactly as Marius had said. Which was the trap, she realised. “Get security to the conference area,” she commanded on a general channel. “This is a distraction. They’re already in the conference area!” She started for the stairs to join the fight on level 2. She wasn’t about to leave Brunton in the lurch. Night would never forgive her.


Sarah sat in the offered chair in Dawnikka’s colony capital hospital’s main neo-natal unit as Doctor Galka checked Tomals’ readings and tested the crossbreeds’ hearing as the pup hadn’t opened his eyes yet. He wrinkled his nose and turned his head slightly in the direction of the sound as his round tipped ears flicked towards the unexpected sound. The infant was wearing wool and flannel as he lay upon the bed and the hospital grade scanner, somewhat more powerful than Night’s, ran full scans over him. “As Doctor Barleycorn stated,” Galka advised, “the fur will come in patches over the more canine influenced sections of the epidermis. I’ll arrange for a prescription for Colomatis to encourage the initial growth over the rest of his body. It’ll grow naturally after the first few bottles. It stimulates the layer under the skin to grow its own fur to a far more dense effect than human body hair. Any preference as to colour?”

Sarah shook her head, then paused. “Well, his father’s colours would be good. Is there a chance his..?” She pointed to her own, shoulder length, hair.

“Oh, the head fur?” Galka tilted her head, considering it. “Not even this sensor can detect that.” She smiled slightly, twisting her muzzle. “The one section you DO have fur… or, uh, hair, and it keeps growing.” She blinked. “You’ll have to keep an eye on that. Although he might look good with it. I hear extensions are in at the moment?”

Sarah chuckled, before holding herself at the pain.

“I hear your hearing has improved too,” Galka whispered, looking away from Sarah and back to the baby as she gently tickled his side, making him flinch slightly.

“That’s so,” Sarah replied, shifting across to her child as he reacted to the sound getting closer. She picked him up and he settled down, clear he was in trusted arms, with a scent that he knew before he knew what scent was.

“We can never really tell with Crossbreeds,” Galka said, “but he seems perfectly well. Physically capable and well adjusted. I’d say you need to stay close to a medical facility but there’s not much fear of you failing there, eh?”

“No indeed,” Sarah replied, taking the digital scrip Galka sent her for the Colomatis drink to be fed by pipette. “Can I get this at the pharmacy here?”

Galka checked the stocks in the pharmacy. “No,” she advised, sending another scrip that divided the first in two. “We’ve only got enough for one right now. The others need to be kept for emergencies, you know? Supply issues out here. Micanna should be able to supply the rest. Their stocks are much larger.”


Thanking the Doctor, Sarah, with Tomal in a chest carrier where he faced his mother, stepped from the room to meet Edelmar, who’d been about ready to head into the recorder’s office to fully certify the birth. With economy being the order of the day, the recorder had their office here. “Are you OK with Dawnikka as colony of birth,” he asked, double checking for the fifth time.

“It’s as good a place as any,” Sarah replied, accepting his arm around her shoulders as they walked slowly towards the office.


Havakar had decided she needed to thank Hawle for the use of his office for these calls and decided she wasn’t going to. She’d hate to do it and she didn’t want to hate him. But this needed to be official as the image of the Micannan agricultural minister appeared on the screen. “Councillor Dewsbury,” she said.

<“President Havakar,”> the figure replied, obviously quite happy to see the Celican’s face. <“I heard about them targetting you on the cruise ship! I’m glad to see you’re all good.”>

“I am NOT ‘all good,’ Steven. I will be dealing with them in my own time. But this is about how I can assist you. You still have that problem with agriculture in your southern province, yes?”

He nodded. <“Hard growing land and the infrastructure’s not great. The budget’s not helping much. Why?”>

“The Loper recently came across a ship outside council space. A Fawren 14 that we sent back about six weeks ago. Two hundred years ago, their crew was kidnapped by something called a Patreeve Dart.”

<“A… a fourteen,”> Dewsbury said, visibly swallowing. <“Still… still in operating order?”>

“Yes. It should be appearing on your long range systems soon. Only let pure stock on board for now. It had some biological booby traps and we can’t be sure if…” She shook her head and worried about how often she was saying ‘we’ in this report. “That’s irrelevant. The bonkers Bunny and his crew have met these Dart things before so, with the help of a Raicarra ship that was there to kill us the loopy lapin instigated a rescue mission. We have almost five hundred hardy miners and farm workers that need a safe place and most of them are Mican. They’re tough nuts and I think you could use them, don’t you?”

He visibly shuddered with excitement at the idea and Havakar knew it had been a good idea to mention the ship first. Especially as she knew Dewsbury was a history buff. <“I…I’ll have to discuss this with the President,”> he announced.

“Go do so, Steven. You know where to contact me.”

She closed the link and her bodyguard leaned over to kiss her head. “Now I see why you didn’t talk to the President herself.”

She patted his hand. “Know your opposition, love, and you won’t need to fight to convince them. He’ll bring it to the boss and spin it more than I ever could. That 14 could be worth it’s weight in credits to Micanna. Now it’s a bargaining chip.”


A third hardwired teleport line activated in the conference centre gymnasium, bringing four more assailants into the matter. They headed for the back door to the conference hall. As they left the room, an arm reached out from the shadows and smashed one, face first, into the wall, breaking his muzzle as the others turned to face Sarina Raven.

[Amazee Dayzee]

I'm sure she was waiting patiently for her moment. Now I am glad that she has got it.

[Welsh Halfwit]

83


In the conference centre, Colleen Una was watching the Professor in the final part of his lecture, talking over the events aboard ship as it came to the anatomy of the Kestalans, which led her to wonder when he’d gotten Salara to pose like that for biological scans that hadn’t been taken with the same pinpoint accuracy as Night’s systems could and she wondered how soon he was going to get to the actual moment of his glory. She wasn’t quite sure because, although she was watching, she wasn’t actually listening. She elbowed Aldair, waking him back up and he snorted at her. “David says plan C is in action, whatever that is,” she told him quietly.

“Huh? Ah.” Hawle put his brain into operation. “It means the suspicion is in play. The location the prisoner told us of seemed too far away. I suspected they’d want a more closer… Ok, I didn’t need the ‘more’ there… teleport point. Couldn’t get Jaqui to move her troops on a vague suspicion so I told Raven to hide by the gymnasium door. Seems I was right.”

“You only left Sarina?”

Hawle shrugged. “Well, they’re unlikely to be heavily armed as they’re a snatch squad and she was complaining she hadn’t had a chance to do anything really violent on this trip…” He stopped as he was heckled from the stage.

“...If my two friends would LET me proceed..,” Caltaya complained.

“Hear that,” Aldair whispered to Colleen, “he called us friends.” He took his voice to the normal tone. “My apologies, Professor,” he called. “You may need to call a pause? The uninvited guests we’ve been expecting have arrived. Security’s holding them but one might get past ‘the bouncer’.”

Caltaya nodded and pointed a finger to prove he’d understood the warning. “Any particular way you’d like people to leave?”

“Yeah. Back doors. After Colleen and I have joined you on stage, of course.”

Colleen looked a little worried at this. “Why me?”

Aldair thought how it was because it was known she was with him so anyone might grab her on the way out as he stood up. “Because I like nice things on stage,” he said humorously.

“Not a thing, Aldair,” she replied sweetly, joining him in making the way to the stage, where he drew his weapon and held it low. Donnika activated the force field generator he’d set up earlier. “If you could leave by the back way,” Colleen instructed, before asking if Sarina would be OK.

As if on cue, a Canine’s head came through the thin wall between them and the gymnasium, making Colleen jump. “I suppose I didn’t need to ask,” she added as Hawle moved over to push it back out of the wall.

“The walls are thin, Raven,” he called through the hole. “We pay for breakages! The walls in the corridor are made of breeze blocks! Use those!”

“Oh, no,” said a small voice close to the wall as Raven grunted and slammed her elbows into a Micans back.


Brunton had returned the officers weapon on a ‘fight or die’ scale that had him keeping the Officer in front of him as they fired down the corridor at their assailants. Back up was coming, he knew, and the Sergeant was a suitable leader. “You want to surrender,” he called, receiving a fusillade of fire in response that skimmed his arm. Barnswick fired his weapon as the Sergeant rolled into the middle of the passage and fired, slamming a shot into the chest of the middle assailant as Brunton and Barnswick covered him, keeping the other enemies trapped in the doorways until Pangal’s team arrived to one side and Caledon’s people arrived at the other side. “YOU want to surrender,” Brunton repeated, talking to Barnswick this time. He kept his weapon levelled as the other Mican wheeled his brain through the scenario, his eyes jerking from side to side. He had to think fast. He had to decide… The Sergeant kept his people back until Barnswick made up his mind. “The actions here will be taken into consideration,” Brunton advised. “They might even be able to let your mother keep the money if you work with them.” He left the gun in one hand and reached the empty hand forward to take the weapon off the disgraced officer.

“It will certainly be considered,” Caledon added.

Shakily, almost crying, Barnswick handed the weapon over and Brunton made it safe as Caledon placed his officer under arrest, raising surprised eyeridges and dropping jaws of the people who’d trusted him most. Brunton stepped in to stop his partner punching him.


“You know you either have to vanish or trust us with the secret, right, professor,” Hawle asked, sitting in the chair Donnika had just vacated to release the security field. The Raitchian stared daggers at him but Hawle politely ignored him and crossed his legs.

“It’s not easy to trust anyone with such a thing, Commander,” the elderly Celican admitted. “But, with the events of the last few weeks – especially the kidnap attempt currently ongoing and the fact Raicarra sent a warship – there is wisdom in making sure a secret is known to the most people it can be. Don,” he added, nodding to his new associate. The Raitchian took the padd he’d been holding and sent a message to Harvey Winsome, including the information on where to find the information and how to access it as Raven entered behind them, a little bloodied but holding a Canine high above her head. A canine she threw to the floor in a way that made Colleen wince.

“Raven,” Aldair chastised, “what have I told you about using excessive force when restraining people?”

“That you’ll take fighting for my life into account,” the hard breathing feline said, looking over her ripped and torn jacket. “And won’t recommend me for promotion.”

“Indeed. I can’t turn a blind eye, you know?”

“Good.”

“Well,” Hawle replied, clearly beginning to confuse Caltaya, “it makes a change from a bar fight.”

Sarina cracked her mouth into a happy one. “That it does,” she said, putting her boot on the Canines’ back as he thought about coming around. Left one for you,” she added as a Mican, armed with a blaster and bleeding from several wounds that coloured his vision and rendered his fur pink, appeared in the doorway for Hawle to stun with a shot.

“Thanks,” the Lappinean said. “I haven’t shot anyone for a while.” He tapped his comm. “Jaqui,” he said, “get Dawton to reverse trace those teleport signals and go pay them a visit, eh? Help the locals.” He cut the line. “The gang problems of this colony,” he told Raven, making her wince as he clapped her shoulder, “are about to be solved quite shortly. Now go see Night. Or Bazil if you prefer.” He pointed a finger close to her muzzle. “That’s an order, Sarina. Before one of the locals decides you were too aggressive in defence. Go.”

[Amazee Dayzee]

Seems like Hawle really missed getting into a fire fight personally. Maybe we can change that when we start RPing.

[Welsh Halfwit]

84

Micanna loomed large in the viewscreen as the two ships neared the final destination. With Patchway in command on the Raicarran ship, Utraya and the Lomax Micans had taken a shuttle across to the Loper where Raven had been showing them around the ship. They’d stopped in at Cedars, where Colleen had waved to Brae and the boy had run over and hugged her for a moment before Galway had pulled him back. The group were headed for the bridge and Sarina couldn’t help but notice the curious, almost fearful, glances the Mican pairing were giving the Celicans and Wolven members of the crew. And the felines that weren’t her. “Strange thinking all Gramma’s stories to be true and in the past,” Galway commented as they reached the bridge level.

“History’s always strange when you miss so many years of it,” Raven opined.

“Sorry for react when I see your face,” Galway told her after being elbowed by Brae.

“S’OK,” Raven replied, keeping her voice tight. “Not like your face is that pleasant?” She let him see she wasn’t being serious with a sly look and wink.

“Humour,” he said before smiling back with the tiniest upturn of the corner of the mouth. “It is appreciated, Sarina.”

“Thanks, Galway,” she replied, wondering why they were on first name terms.


Hawle stood up as he sensed the new arrivals on the bridge. They still smelled of the soil so his nose could prewarn him of them. He kept his hands behind his back. “Welcome to the bridge,” he greeted. “For those that don’t know, I’m Commander Aldair Hawle, Captain of the Loper.” He stepped forward and offered his hand, trying not to keel over at Galway’s grip. He’d had his hand shaken by gentler Equinna, he reckoned. Then Brae’s hand. “That out there,” he said, indicating the screen, “is Micanna where, apparently, someone has pestered the government to give you some isolated farmland to work as you see fit. Oh, Solomon?”

“Yez?”

“Thought you’d like to know. The Savval will be here in a few hours. I had Night send over your scans. Their Chief Medical Officer’s ready to work.”

“Not that Pzycho..?”

“No, no. That’s their chief scientist, Durness. Quella’s the Doctor.”

“Thankz.”



Galway stepped up close to the screen, so close he could see the picture break up into different colours. “New world,” he said reverently.

“Not a bad one,” Maltine commented, getting Galway’s attention for the first time. He practically jumped away from the Vixen at the helm. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You did not,” Galway replied, getting his pulse down. “Missed history did.”

“That’s Paylavar Maltine,” Hawle announced. “She’s driving the ship at the moment. This is Gunnery Officer Kirkin Tillock, whose local dialect the computer can’t translate…” Kirkin grinned, then greeted the group in Mican, although he kept his accent. “...Except when he wants to, apparently,” Hawle added. “This,” he continued, taking Brae over to communications, “is David Dawton.” He noted the confused look on the boys face and leaned in to ‘whisper’. “He’s called a Human. They’re really weird, I know. But he’s nice enough. He works the phones.”

At that, Brae’s eyes lit up. He’d heard the stories, although he couldn’t see any of the devices on the wall. “Komunikations,” he asked.

“That’s the one,” the Human admitted. “I listen for signals sent by other ships so we can hear them.” Brae nodded sagely. He had no idea what the Human was talking about. He introduced himself to Stikka when the Komandur had introduced him. And Falakin Match. Brae was more comfortable around the Raitchian. He’d known the species for a number of dawns now.


Hawle approached Galway and, with a glance from the Mican to give him permission, he put a hand on his shoulder, looking at the planet on screen, with its satellites and militia patrol craft. “We can see it,” Galway asked. “The land we are given?”

“From here,” Aldair replied, “just about. Maltine, link us in with satellite 117 and zoom in on sector 131.”

“You knew I would ask?”

“No, no,” Hawle claimed. “Just a guess.”

Galway laughed at that obvious lie, told well. The screen showed an area of greenery with boulders and trees and a few dozen habitations. “It’s not occupied,” Hawle explained. “They tried to get people to move out there a few years ago but it didn’t work. They found it too hard to grow crops. But I’m told you lot like hard work?”

“We do.”

“There will be educators to help teach what you have missed and what the others on the colony know. There will be a few to help with trade until your people are ready to do that for yourselves. But, mainly, it’ll be you doing the work, Galway. You and your people. Even with a few of the crops you know how to grow. Match found some seeds in several pockets? We conferred with Micanna. You’ll be isolated enough that they won’t be deemed a danger provided you harvest them and eat them, hmm?”

A grin split the old timers face. “We like what we know.”

“One other thing to show you. It’s just arriving here after a trip. She’s been gone a long time.” The image changed to a ship still moving through space. Galway’s heart raced as he stepped forward, his arm outstretched towards the screen as the ship of the stars his grandmother had always drawn for him appeared on it.

[Amazee Dayzee]

Feels like this story is starting to wind down but I do hope that we get to see more of Hawle before it fully ends. You can never have too much Hawle.

[Welsh Halfwit]

85

Almost gingerly, Henry Postlethwaite stepped down from the teleport pad on the Fawren 14 and looked around in something close to awe. He’d decided he needed to leave the halls and passageways of Talvary Communal Station for the chance to see history around him. Ensigns Raddy and Leith had immediately requested leave after they’d gotten back and the Sector Commander had noted they had wanted to take it together after picking up personal stuff from the Loper. They’d worked well together, it seemed, bringing the mould tinged old girl back home. “This is quite something,” he told the teleport operator, a Lappinean borrowed from the Loper.

“It took me some time to learn the push button controls,” the Officer commented.

“You’re not doing my teleports,” Postlethwaite said in all seriousness. “Where is Commander Hawle?”

The door stuttered open to reveal the Commander in the hallway. “It’s entirely coincidental,” he stated, “but that sounded like a cue. Good evening, sir,” he stated, inclining his head in lieu of a salute. “Welcome aboard the ‘Starscratcher’. Raddy found the name in the records when using Gilly’s program to restore the files.”

“Happy, if not to say stunned, to be here, Commander. I’d ask for your report but I haven’t got time to go through a novel right now. And I’m sure you could write one or two.”

“They’d all be redacted, sir. Most by you. Some by Elena.”

“You only get the ship so damaged so you can spend more time in drydock, don’t you? Anyhow, back to the subject. You said I should leave my adjunct behind.”

Hawle nodded as the pair headed through the cold ship towards the bridge. “Some of the security systems are still operational. We’ll need one of Fawrens’ historical experts to visit and remove the traps.” He indicated a small patch of mould. “THAT,” he continued, “was designed to poison planets.”

“Couldn’t hope for anything less with you.” Henry stopped. “I send you out beyond the borders and you recover an ancient, missing, ship. Then you make contact with an alien race and rescue hundreds of people who’ve been captive for centuries. Should I be feeling Deja Vu?”

Aldair stopped and, holding his nose up in the air, thought on it all. “You forgot engaging the darts in combat,” he reminded Henry. “I lost eight people fighting those things.” He turned to face Henry as the ship hummed quietly. “But that, of course, is why you sent the Loper and myself, isn’t it? Where you amped up our defences and weapons?”

“Of course, Commander. You use experience where you have it.” He stepped onto the bridge. “I’ve seen simulations of this,” he breathed.


“Micanna,” Marius said, gently kissing Jaqui as they lay together on her bed, the covers only just covering their lower halves. He had his arm around her shoulders as he looked down towards her face. “Where my life changes forever. Again.”

She shifted onto her side and tapped him on the nose. “You keep this clean,” she teased, “and you might just get help in your placement.”

He licked her finger and grinned lasciviously. “Difficult to keep my nose clean when lying next to you, Jaqui.” He pulled her in for a deep kiss before she pulled back, almost unwillingly.

“We have half an hour before you’re due to report to the U.S.C. base.” She poked his chest. “You need to get showered and dressed. I’ll take the shower AFTER you. Go.” She prodded him out of the bed and lay back, wondering how, of all the people she knew, she’d fallen for a Canine convict she’d beaten up on first meeting. She let herself believe it was the fun loving part of him. Not the fact that, for a Canine, he was a complete studbuck. Still, as she heard the shower humming, she picked up his almost clean clothes and put them on the bed to gather her own. The clock didn’t lie. Not now they’d reset them with the local colonies. She hoped he didn’t take long. She had to attend to. To put in her two credits.


Cedar Kirkwall flopped out on the sofa in his room and complained of being bushed. He’d even been too worn out to make his own dinner so his assistant had made it for him. She was getting better. She was approaching service station cafe levels of competence now, which was a mighty step up from when she’d started. He had to give thought to what he wanted to do and, actually, being at Micanna made that easier. She was going to want to progress at catering college at some point. Then he’d need to train up another one. But, with him being part of the Mican Chef’s Guild he could apply to the local rep to give her an apprenticeship with him so she could qualify that way. Here, on the ship. Besides, she was fun to have around. And so enthusiastic. He decided he’d tell her tomorrow. Mind you, he had little choice as he’d fallen asleep.


In Sarafina’s room, the girl was packing for her extended excursion as her mother sat on the edge of the bed. “I can hardly believe you’re leaving, Sara,” she said meaningfully.

Sarafina sighed. It was the line she’d been dreading since she’d made the final decision. The emotion packed line that could have broken her will a few weeks ago but, now she’d had dealings with the Chief? Not so much. “I know, mum,” she said, pausing in her operations to address her mother. “But it’s something I have to do. Gotta find myself and I can’t do that when no-one can say ‘no’, yeah?”

“I suppose not.”

“Plus,” she added with a grin, “I might find future husband number one in college, eh? Like you’ve found number three here?” She indicated the silent bodyguard in the corner. “So when are you and Derek applying for that Lappinean treatment?” She laughed as she saw her mother’s face. “You figured I didn’t know?” She licked the top of her mother’s muzzle and stepped away to address the bodyguard. “If it had to be anyone, Derekin Goldar, I’m happy it’s you. You don’t need it but you have my full permission.” He looked stoic until Havakar told him he could break protocol, then he enveloped the former first daughter in a hug that she returned.


“So,” Henry asked as he tried out the Captain’s seat, “you gave the Micannans advice on handling the new settlers?”

“Hmm,” Aldair resoned, hoping the fact that the Mican was elderly and light wouldn’t snap the shaft connecting the chair to the deck. Apparently Raddy had used the deck chair she’d brought with her or the helm chair that didn’t spin around. “I advised them that whoever they sent to help them would need to be quite young and smart. He’d need to deal with Galway while also being ready to deal with Brae in a few years. Night says Galway has a few years left at most. Life where he was is just too hard for longer.”

“Does he know?”

“Yes.” Aldair looked at the weapons console and decided not to touch anything, even though it was tempting. “There wasn’t much point in keeping it from the eldest Mican in the group that he was going to… uh, nevermind.”

“I am aware of my own mortality, Commander. I’ve already chosen my own replacement for when I retire. No, I won’t tell you. I understand a lot of credit has been given to Captain Utraya who has, strangely, requested to rejoin the U.S.C. at Commander or Captain level?”

“Quite a thing,” Aldair reminded the chief ‘innocently’, “having a hero on the books. “Plus it means he can’t ‘vanish’ and have Raicarra make breakthroughs. They’ve got the paint. They don’t need anything else.”

Henry mused on that. “I suppose not. We’ll be helping them secure supplies. Their fully protected ship and the equally protected Savval will work that. As for you? Back to Cora II, Commander? For extensive repairs.”

Hawle nodded. “After a week on Micanna. Solomon’s going to be joining me. For a holiday. Reminds me, I need to tell Elena. I tried asking her but she hasn’t picked up...”

“She knows,” Henry replied with a smirk. “She came with me and talked to Solomon before teleporting to the Loper to see the Polvas. She brought a toy from some of the other new colonists.”

“Permission to go be surprised by her presence, sir?”

“Granted, Commander.” Henry watched him leave and waited for the team from Micanna to arrive.


END

[Amazee Dayzee]

I really did like the way this story has played out and thought it was awesome! But now that its done maybe we can try to do something with Hawle and Elena over private messages?

[Welsh Halfwit]

New one. Terrorform