Ringtail

[The Pakkrat]

Thunder pealed outside the Starport terminal and rain was likely helping with any fires at the implosion site of the former Zirunkariish arcology where Qithka was born – iterated or whatever. The ring-tailed Vargr female left the fresher after dumping the laundrymens’ comm and grav-van key into a rubbish canister. A telecom search ping would locate it and the key with Qithka’s thankful wishes. She then followed signs to the correct concourse of landing pads while thinking of Executor Sorrlloutsun and Nurse Dhoer. On a whim, she checked the stolen hand computer for a civilian registry of Vincennes and found Qithka01 Cannagrrh among the names. No residence address and no comm or PubNet address. But her lawyer had successfully legalized the Relict Clone daughter of the late Dame Qithka Cannagrrh as a civilian of Vincennes and by extension the Regency of Deneb. Qithka was free of Zarunkariish, unless BeastMasters was guilty of playing God.

 

[The Pakkrat]

Chapter 13
Vincennes (Deneb 1122) A899AA6-G Hi In Cp Reg
76-1200
Dimamda Aardadllum was nowhere to be seen on Pad 8, but Qithka did take stock of the weather worn, modular cutter sitting on the deck, gears down. But in the rain and early dawn, the teenager saw another Vargr, a female in a black flight suit spot her approach. As Qithka cautiously drew closer to the wet smallcraft, she recognized that this Vargr was Gvegh. It was in the lupine’s expressions, mannerisms and stance.

“You the ringtail that Dimamda called me about?” asked the Gvegh, a mottled-brown pelt with reddish-brown eyes. “Gvegh too. She didn’t say you were Gvegh.”

“Yes,” answered Qithka. Nervously, she stepped into the lit areas around the opened airlock doors of the modular cutter. The entire, cylindrical spacecraft was hand-painted in Vargr colors and patterns. To a Vargr, the pattern was chaotic and eye-catching. But the Dame knew that Humaniti balked at the aesthetic decorations of all ethnic Vargr from the Splinters. It was in Vargr visual sense that influenced the colors that Humans said clashed and was painful to behold. Most from the Vargr Splinters would have wagged tails at the effect.

“Well whether you’re a new hire or a working passenger, get inside before you become waterlogged. I’m Zevikh Relltsou, Captain-Owner of the Arrkolltsue. Dimamda said on the comm you were some kind of jack-of-all-trades. Is she right?”

“I’m supposed to show her while at the helm,” answered Qithka. Already the two Gvegh were sizing up each other’s charisma by comparing stances, postures and paralanguage. Qithka knew she could assert herself as the Dame merely by showing the Captain her UPP card. But she decided otherwise until the Arrkolltsue was in jumpspace away from Vincennes. Only then would it be time for a ‘ringtail’ to become the lady or even a Dame. Qithka looked a last stare back toward Vincennes Down in hopes of catching a last look at her birthplace. Only the dim morning glow showed the thick column of dust and smoke illuminated by emergency lights downtown. Then she let go of Vincennes as the Dame had almost a century earlier by coming to the Marches to track down Gevaudan Cannagrrh.

Inside the Modular Cutter, Qithka looked about the bow cabin. The cigar-shaped smallcraft was configured for wilderness refueling. Atmospheric scoops on the outside of the cutter fed into tankage that was in turn connected to a processing plant. She stopped to search the Dame’s experiences at the sight of the ice-cruncher bin, the intake hose and pump and the fuel tanks that took up the entirety of the cargo section of the cutter. Such equipment meant that the host vessel likely was relying on this cutter for wilderness refueling if none were available for purchase at a Highport station in orbit. This meant that the Arrkolltsue was likely incapable of landing on a planet. The Vargr race habitually designed boxy, unstreamlined hulls for starships. The curved and sleek ships of the Vargr were usually indicators of Corsairs with their forward swept wings and teeth-like canards. Taking the equipment into account, Qithka moved to the cockpit at the gesture of Capt. Relltsou.

Zevikh Relltsou sat in the SensOp acceleration chair and watched as Qithka settled into a large, pilot’s chair. In a teenaged body, the chair was larger than the Dame remembered. The Relict Clone took a moment to set aside her shoulder bag and adjust the harness belts to her frame. Her claws worked automatically as memories of spaceflight identified each of the helm Console’s components. Artificial horizon, yaw-pitch-roll controls, throttle featuring four gees of acceleration, gauges and readouts, and a heads-up display.

Qithka heard a vehicle arrive outside the modular cutter. Her ears tilted back to hear the Vilani woman Dimamda Aardadllum climbed up the airlock hatch steps and into the smallcraft. She deduced then that Capt. Relltsou and Dimamda were landed at Vincennes Down to purchase parts. The large and heavy canvas bag full of unknown items clinked and jingled when the Human set down the bag. “Got what we needed, Zevikh,” reported the woman with the torn utility pants.

“Finestkind,” answered the Captain next to Qithka. It caused the Relict Clone to pause in her pre-flight check of the cockpit systems. Finestkind was a word that Gevaudan had used in his days of adventuring in the Spinward Marches. The word had likely caught on in both Gvegh and Anglic languages. It made the daughter of the Dame beam with inner pride. Gevaudan was after all the Vargrtarian of the Collapse in Gvurrdon Sector. The Dame was famous sector-wide too in her time, Qithka remembered.

“Pre-flight check completed, Captain,” said the young white-pelt.

“Call me Zevikh, miss Qithka,” nodded Zevikh who slid on a headset and microphone. “My ship isn’t military, and my true rank isn’t Captain either. Neither are we mercs. So, that jargon can be tossed out the airlock. Got me?”

“Yes, Cap-, skipper, ma’am,” answered Qithka sheepishly. The Ares had been run as a mercenary unit starship under the command of a former Imperial Drop Marine Colonel. The Dame inside Qithka01 recalled that later, Gevaudan had been elected by the Artemis Group as Captain of the 800dT Broadsword-class Mercenary Cruiser after Col. Robertson retired from the mercenary company. It was both new to the Dame’s memories and to the daughter Qithka to soon be working passage in a less formal, Vargr starship.

Nodding with approval, Zevikh then keyed the Modular Cutter’s comm and spoke into her microphone. “Tower, ModCut Takhs requesting lift corridor. Destination is 2JF-5U22 Arrkolltsue in GEOS parking #21.”

Qithka looked over her shoulder as Dimamda took a standing position over the Cutter Engineering boards. She was right to assume the Vilani woman was an Engineer, likely the Chief Engineer of the Arrkolltsue as well. The smallcraft came to life, its Maneuver Drive showing Green on Qithka’s helm boards.
“Tower says we have fifteen-minute window to lift,” reported the mottled brown Zevikh. The female looked to Qithka at her side. “Okay, miss. If you’re a JOT, then show us what you’ve got.”

“Yes, ma’am,” answered Qithka01. With the Dame’s skills and experiences inside the Relict Clone daughter, Qithka laid claws on the controls and announced, “Lifting now.”

The Takhs lifted in the downpour of rain. Qithka turned the smallcraft about to follow the flightpath fed to her from Capt. Zevikh seated at SensOps. The Modular Cutter handled well for an aged spacecraft and one weighed with rainwater. As the front viewport swung the city into view, Qithka stole a look downtown at the massive column of dust being caught by the thunderstorm’s rain and was cleaning the sky of the dust and smoke. Flashing lights in the distance made an ominous lightshow of where the Zirunkariish arcology once stood. Flattening her ears, Qithka the pilot continued to align the cutter to the flightpath before throttling up. “Aerospace velocity limit?”

“Keep it at 1.5G until orbit, Miss Qithka,” directed Zevikh.

“Seems to know her controls,” added Dimamda. “Drives steady and Green for 1.5G.”

Nodding, Qithka pressed the throttle to 1.5 gees of acceleration and felt the Cutter lift faster and higher into the sky. Up through the dawn-lit clouds the Takhs climbed. A thunderclap shook the smallcraft, reverberating through the cigar-shaped hull. Yet, Qithka held tight to the helm controls and kept the cutter dead center to the flight path. Her memories of Dzuerongvoe in the Dame’s time and the recent storm season here on Vincennes was nothing new to Qithka.

Capt. Zevikh and Dimamda chatted easily about the parts and components that the Vilani woman had purchased as Qithka continued to pilot the 50dT cutter higher and higher to soon breach the storm clouds and into the upper atmosphere. Dimamda had procured some efficient, Tech-12 replacement solar panels, coupling cables, powerlines and fiber-optic lines for their 500dT Armed Junker. It seemed that the ship Qithka was piloting toward was an elderly Vargr vessel. What better world than Vincennes to find quality replacement parts? Soon enough Qithka would see the Arrkolltsue on the heads-up display from her seat at the helm. Zevikh and Dimamda sounded as if they had been shipmates, friends even aboard the salvager ship for some time. The Relict Clone guessed it was a salvager by the way the others spoke of unstreamlined hulls, docking clamps, grapple arms and the supplementary solar panels for ambient power supply.

 

[The Pakkrat]

Capt. Zevikh soon hailed the 2JF-5U22 Armed Junker Arrkollstue on the Communicator-8 as the Takhs registered and recognized its mother ship on the Sensors. Qithka resisted the urge to glance to her left at the Sensors Boards to have a look at the vessel ahead. The Dame in her memories had always been better on Sensors as Gevaudan had piloted his Imperium-make, Fast Far Scout named the Sixth Horizon. Dame Qithka Cannagrrh had learned much as the Senior Scout flew her and Uthka Varzeekh home to the Dzen Aeng Kho. In those jumps on the route home, the Dame had learned much as opposed to standing around on the bridge of the larger Ares and covering the adventures of the mercenary company with the robot Witness floating over her shoulder. The Senior Scout Gevaudan Cannagrrh and the old crone Uthka Varzeekh had been banished from the Domain of Deneb almost a century before now. Qithka01 recalled a scene in which Gev and Uthka were hauled before the new Archduke Norris, Delphine the Duchess of Mora, Duke Luis of Lunion and the three visiting Viscounts of Lanth Subsector. Since Gev denied being a Psion and yet possessing of psionic talents and having committed no true crimes against the Domain despite being a suspected Outworld Coalition, Gvegh spy, he and outed Psion Uthka Varzeekh were banished. Their only listed crime was exhibiting psionics, talents suppressed since the Third Imperium conducted the Psionic Suppression almost two-hundred years before the end of the Fifth Frontier War.

With the new launch of his ship, the Sixth Horizon, Gevaudan had taken his banishment in stride. The Dame, Gev and Uthka flew the vessel home to the Society of Equals. Along the way, Qithka Cannagrrh had reported to her magazine on the return home as well as pick up skills in ship operations. This was only part of the life the Dame had bequeathed to the Relict Clone Qithka01 Cannagrrh who put the Modular Cutter on final approach to the Armed Junker.

 

[The Pakkrat]

Chapter 14
Vincennes (Deneb 1122) A899AA6-G Hi In Cp Reg
77-1200
In a single day, Relict Clone and new Dame Qithka01 Cannagrrh had gone from a new iteration patient of Zirunkariish Healthcare and Insurance, LIC to a hunted escapee on the run from fans and detractors to a working crewmember of the 2JF-5U22 Arrkolltsue. At an apparent age of 18, truly less than one year old, Qithka wondered quietly to herself as she was led from the docked Takhs Modular Cutter and through the mating airlock and clamp into the Armed Junker.

“Honey, we’re home!” called the mottled brown-pelt, Vargr Zevikh Relltsou up the axis hallway of the ship. Dimamda Aardadllum followed behind Zevikh, carrying the canvass bag of purchases on its shoulder strap. Her rubber-soled boots clopped on the deck plates. Qithka had retrieved her shoulder bag and brought up the rear as the three made way forward.

From an opening iris valve in the forward end of the axis hallway bounded a male, Aekhu Vargr. His tongue lolled out to a side and his tail whipped side to side as he charged aft. He was a sandy, light brown pelt with wide and bright amber eyes. Clearly very excited to see the returning crew members, the male zipped past Zevikh in the lead and almost tackled Dimamda. The Vilani woman was just able to drop her bag of parts and components in time to receive the panting Aekhu.

“Oof! Hey, buddy!” huffed Dimamda as she was embraced by the Vargr claws. “We’ve only been gone a few days, Esksa Relltsou.” She endured his grasp and multiple licks he slathered over her Vilani face and neck.

“Figures,” said Zevikh who tilted her lupine head and crossed her arms. “He’s my mate-husband and still runs to his cub-hood panet first.” She looked to quiet Qithka in the rear of the line and introduced the male with, “Miss Kithka Kannagrr, this is my disloyal mate-husband, Esksa Relltsou and yes he’s Dimamda’s Aekhu panet. Esksa this is our new, working passage crew member, Kithka.”

“It’s Qithka Cannagrrh,” corrected the Relict Clone who while nodding to the male Aekhu, spelled out her full name in Gvegh letters as she did not speak Aekhu. She purposefully omitted her 01 suffix that was stamped in gold, relief letters on her hidden, black UPP card. “Pleased to meet you Esksa.”

Esksa let go of the Vilani Engineer to offer a claw-shake to which Qithka reciprocated. He was still panting and grinning. “Likewise. Welcome aboard the Arrkolltsue, miss.” There was that miss again. Qithka had to quickly remind herself that she was still a teenager and not a 130-year old Dame. The sandy male then turned to his mate-wife Zevikh, “I missed you too, love. There’s dinner in the galley almost ready. Hungry, ladies?”

A male who cooks, thought Qithka as the mated pair hugged and licked each other. She wondered if he was any better than Gev in the galley. The thought reminded young Qithka that she had yet to eat or would likely ever get to savor her now-uncle’s cuisine. He had always prepared meals for Qithka and Uthka on the Ares and later aboard his Sixth Horizon.

Dimamda brought Qithka back to the present saying, “Esksa is the ship’s Medic-Counsellor, Cook and the Gunner for the mining laser. And yes, he’s my panet, my buddy.” She scratched the male’s head as the mated pair continued hugging. It produced another lolling tongue from the Aekhu and tail wagging.

“Panet?” asked Qithka who wringed her tail in both claws behind her back now that she knew there was a Medic on the ship. She was hiding the black ring stripe on her tail. How learned was the Medic-Counsellor?

“Yeah,” Dimamda explained with accented words. “Panet is an Anglic portmanteau of ‘comPANion’ and ‘pET’ and comes from those silly Julians of the Julian Protectorate, if they’re even still around in 1200, this New Era they are calling it. We met going into Regency Quarantine Navy and became best buddies, panets. Esksa married Zevikh last year, just before Holliday into 1200. Though don’t ask us which of the two is the pet. He’s my pet.”

“Am not!” protested the Aekhu who looked to the newcomer. “She’s my pet, Qithka. There’s more Vargr on this crate than Humans, so there.”

“Immature for a physician and Counsellor too,” added the Vilani woman who again hefted her canvas bag of purchases. “Anyway, I’m off to stow this stuff. Dinner soon?”

“Make a do, pet,” answered Esksa who was visibly anticipating serving dinner. “Fifteen minutes.”

“I’m not the pet!” protested the Vilani woman. It was clear the Aekhu and Vilani had a cross-species relationship beyond friendship. Qithka could read some history between the two.

Qithka was again quietly stunned to hear another of Gevaudan’s sayings. Make a do, was his way of encouraging Humaniti to take action when needed. It amazed the clone daughter how far the Senior Scout’s quirky vocabulary had reached since his coming to the Spinward Marches in 1105, long before the Collapse and the nightmare times of Virus. It cheered Qithka visibly to hear Gev’s words spoken again. She smiled a little and followed Capt. Zevikh, Dimamda and Esksa forward to the main body of the Armed Junker.

Watching from the rear of the group, Qithka’s Dame experience lined the charisma of the Vargr pair. Clearly Zevikh was the alpha of this crew, Esksa her chosen mate. Qithka guessed with little confidence that Vilani contact with the Coreward Vargr had bled down through the centuries to allow the Chief Engineer to glean some Vilani-charisma for herself, likely in the years of service in the RQN. The two had likely become such close friends during their career terms so that the woman had gleaned a charismatic pecking order for herself among the Aekhu and now Gvegh. What the wife Zevikh saw in an Aekhu male however would normally be beyond the Dame Qithka Cannagrrh but for the rumbling hunger of Qithka01’s stomach.

Capt. Zevikh stopped and turned left to press a wall button and cause a sliding door to open. Beyond the door was a crew cabin as opposed to a passenger stateroom. “Here you go, Miss Qithka. My mate-husband cleaned out Javl’s stuff last month. I hope the cleaners have rid the room of his scent. Javl was Zhodani descent, a Human. There’s been more of them in the Regency of late, though the joes are still uncommon this far Trailing into Deneb Sector.”

“It’s fine, ma’am,” assured Qithka. “I knew a few Zhodani in my-“ The young white-pelt cut herself off. The Dame knew Zhodani in her time. Qithka01 did not. The half-lie stopped her short. The Relict Clone daughter found she did not like to outright lie in this new life.

“Well here you go. Unpack what you got and join us for dinner in fifteen?” Whether the female Zevikh caught Qithka’s cut-off was anyone’s guess.

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

Zevikh tilted her head again at Qithka and said, “I’m thinking I will like to see what else you are capable of aboard the old girl, Miss Qithka Cannagrrh.” At that, the mated pair continued forward toward what the teenager though might be the galley. The scents of a meal were thicker toward the forward sections of the ship.

The cabin was the most aft, portside of the eight crew quarters aboard the Arrkolltsue. Immediately before Qithka was a fresher. She smiled, stepped into the cabin and closed the door with the inner button. Rarely in the past decades had civilian vessels featured individual fresher-shower units. This Armed Junker was indeed older. To Qithka’s right was her bed bunk, though it featured a fold-down twin above it. Such was present in case the vessel had need of double-occupancy in emergencies. Forward of the bunk was a desk with a ship’s computer terminal that smelled of spray cleaners. Esksa must have recently refreshed the boards of the terminal.

Because she did not want to be alone with her memories of the Dame which kept reminding her of ship details the young iteration had not encountered yet, Qithka switched on the computer terminal and queried the ship’s computer for a packet of system PubNet news. The ZIDS news packet was of interest to her so she queued it up first as she unpacked her stuffed-full shoulder bag.

 

[The Pakkrat]

“…next up,” announced the anchorwoman, a Solomani-Vilani mixed Human, “the recent storms have quelled the fires at the Zirunkariish Healthcare arcology, the same superstructure that housed the hotly-debated Relict Clone of the late Dame Qithka Cannagrrh. But those same flash floods have hindered recovery operations as rainwater seeps into the debris and risks drowning those in the sub-level floors. Two full shifts of staff and the hospitalized patients along with security teams and support employees are still being combed for in the mountain of rubble. We have updated numbers of the casualties, identities are on attachment lists to this report. Relatives and family can download the latest list…”

Qithka continued to watch as she peeled off her wet jeans and leotard in favor of a quick shower before dinner. She wanted to look less like a drenched canid and more a presentable, finished teenager. It would have been the Dame’s pref- Qithka shut off her mind as soon as the hot shower water struck her shoulders and back. There, she allowed herself a full deluge of tears in a cry that lasted until the hot water ran to lukewarm. She was free and no longer watched by Zirunkariish. But that freedom came with the cost of so much death between two ignorant factions of Vargr and Human fans and the Dame’s puritanical detractors who were likely influenced by the revitalized Church Of The Chosen Ones. The local, planetary chapter would likely be patting each other on the back, that they had saved the Major Race of Vargr from genetic impurity at the alleged hands of BeastMasters, LIC. Only the missing Ancients were allowed to play God with the Vargr. Such was a done deal according to the Solomani Hypothesis. Then there were the sophonts in the arcology, patients and staff who had just last night given their lives for Qithka01 Cannagrrh.

Only one thing branded and tied Qithka to Vincennes now. Her UPP card she could toss out an airlock if she chose. But that black ring of fur on her tail, an unnatural stripe on an otherwise perfect white pelt, betrayed her to whomever might know enough about cloning to mark her as a clone.
With her shower done and her sobs and sniffles washed down the drain, Qithka dried herself with the fresher’s blower, turning about in the stall to the warm blast of air. Finally, she stepped from the fresher and chose one of her ship uniforms from her former wardrobe to wear. The beige jumpsuit fit loosely as it was sized for the adult Dame. Qithka gathered it with the work belt threaded through the waist loops. She returned Uthka Varzeekh’s pistol to its aluminum case by unscrewing its silencer. She was thankful she did not have to change magazines to lethal ammunition in her escape.


“….news from Unxava (Deneb 1337) tonight. Zirunkariish megacorp subsidiary BeastMasters, LIC announced the suicide of their chief R&D geneering specialist. Though no further evidence of tampering with the Relict Clone iteration Deneb’s first iteration of an ethnic Gvegh Vargr from the Splinters, the head of Geneering at BeastMasters was found hung on the main laboratory floor the morning of 65-1200. BeastMasters spokesmen maintain the subsidiary’s non-involvement with the famous, late Dame’s Relict Clone iteration. The company did express condolences for the loss of the Dame’s clone, the other patients, visiting families, staff and healthcare workers….”

Tired of hearing about herself, Qithka switched off the terminal and left her cabin to attend dinner following her nose forward. Under her digitigrade feet, she could feel the vibratory hum of the ship’s maneuver drive. The ship was moving from its geostationary, orbital position. Capt. Zevikh must have ordered the pilot on-station to begin system transit. This heartened the teenager trying to leave the 130-year old Dame in the cabin.

 

[The Pakkrat]

Chapter 15
Vincennes (Deneb 1122) A899AA6-G Hi In Cp Reg
77-1200
It would have been breakfast to Qithka, having risen in the pre-dawn just hours before escaping the destruction of the arcology, but the Aekhu male’s cooking was heavenly compared to the hospital food she had been eating. It made her think of Nurse Dhoer again and the dish she had prepared to test Qithka’s sense of taste.

“Miss Qithka, please come sit and dish up, dear,” called Capt. Zevikh from the table. The entire crew of Vargr and Humans were seated at the round table in the commons adjacent to the galley. “Everybody who hasn’t met her, please welcome our newest working passage, Qithka Cannagrrh.”

Though she tried to look presentable in the Dame’s vessel uniform, Qithka smiled and wagged her tail with a friendly demeanor. It was a mistake she halted too slowly. Dimamda, Zevikh and Esksa were welcoming in their facial expressions. Two Vargr crew, likely another Engineer and possibly a Pilot stopped eating to look at each other, looks of surprise on their muzzles. The Solomani male did not look up from his meal.

“Meet the rest of the crew, miss,” gestured Zevikh. “Dimamda who found you, myself Zevikh and my mate-husband Esksa. This is First Mate and Pilot Dhak Fursuth, Drives Engineer Llirzdugzngaell Arrrr and Kyle Stonecipher from Terra as our cutter and ship Pilot.” The Terran finally looked up at Qithka when his name was called. He had close-cropped, military cut, blonde hair though he was tanned of skin. “We’re still down one crew and so are able to take on a passenger, perhaps working like yourself.”

“Pleased to be aboard and to help out,” acknowledged Qithka, now obviously the youngest Vargr, youngest sophont on the Arrkolltsue.

Dhak Fursuth was a 20-something, timber wolf gray and white with white socks coloration of his claws and feet. His eyes were pale blue, almost gray. He had looked to the elderly Llirzdugzngaell, likely in his forties, a gray dorsal colored male with an orange-yellow ventral fur. The two stared at Qithka and lost their voices. Had they never seen a white-pelt before? Or was it her young age? The Solomani looked well-traveled. Terra was on the Rimward region of Charted Space. The man was far from home. The blue eyes are deep and azure. Like Zhevra’s description of Gevaudan gone mad at being struck by the Mind Tsunami back in 1187. The name Kyle, though spelled differently was pronounced the similar to the Dame’s cousin Kaer Cannagrrh. Qithka stuffed the memory down as she bowed ladylike to her elders and procured a plate and silverware.

As the crew ate, Captain Zevikh announced, “The new girl will work during my shift and will likely be cross-training in more than two stations. Esksa and Dimamda will be watching over her. Then she’ll overlap for Dhak, Llir and Kyle’s shifts. Once we have her best station mapped out, we’ll work out a three-shift schedule. It will be pretty quiet until we reach Gvurrdon. Then we can make some real credits.”

“Aye,” said the entire table to Qithka’s surprise. She quickly answered behind them with a soft, “Aye.”

“First, Miss Qithka,” said Zevikh who looked to her left where Qithka had sat at the table, “can you run Astrogation?”

“Yes, ma’am,” answered the Relict Clone between bites. “I remember.” The answer drew up one of the Captain’s lupine eyebrows.

“Good,” said Zevikh, “I’ll watch you plot from Vincennes to Northammon at 0921 tomorrow. We’re fueled, and it will give Dimamda a chance to install some of the new components. Everybody, we have a new nexus for the drives and are one step closer to longer ranges.”

“Full Nexus, Zevikh?” asked the eldest Engineer Llirzdugzngaell.

“Tech-12 with Tech-16 tuning, Llirz,” answered Dimamda the Chief Engineer for the Captain. “If we bolt in another Jump Drive, we’ll have some interesting jumps ahead.”

“Interesting,” answered the older male Vargr.

Qithka and the Medic, Esksa were the last at the table. The teenager with a centenarian in her head caught him peeking at her with his middling charisma, far below her own despite her age. For a breakfast, the Aekhu male’s cooking was every bit hearty as Nurse Dhoer’s meal. She opened up after the table had cleared of crew, “Aekhu cooking is still new but savory. May I call you Esksa?”

The panet of the Vilani Dimamda nodded in the affirmative and wagged his tail at hearing Qithka speak to him. “You’re Gvegh, so I tried to sway tonight’s meal toward Gvegh tastes, Miss Qithka.”

“Just Qithka please,” corrected the female. Esksa had to be in his upper thirties alongside Dimamda but Zevikh had looked slightly younger.

“Y-you know that I have to perform a physical for new crew, right?” asked the Aekhu male. His paralanguage was unsure of himself and he looked embarrassed to have to examine a young female.

“I’m not adverse or shy,” answered Qithka. “Are you a full Doctor?”

“I was given the full medical schooling on a military scholarship which came with a required two terms in the Regency Quarantine Navy as a ship’s Medic. Dimamda, my panet, was my first female to examine aboard an escort destroyer.”

“I don’t get this panet thing,” Qithka admitted. “What is a panet truly? You two don’t act like one or the other is a pet, both of you being sophonts and yet there is this running joke between you?”

“Yeah,” nodded Esksa. “It’s silly and keeps new folk smiling at us as opposed to other reactions. Better to see a Vargr and a Human as friendly, happy-go-lucky, pet relationship than dwelling too much on the deeper meaning.”

“Meaning?”

“Panets are kinda like a step away from mated couples, me and Zevikh. Did you know that Dimamda introduced me to the Captain? My panet is my best friend whom I love dearly, but she also knows that we are genetically incompatible. So, she found Zevikh for me.” The Medic’s tail curled under his chair.

“You three sleep together?” asked Qithka. The thought would have been repulsive to the Dame. But light, table curiosity caused the teenager to banish the Dame back to Qithka’s portside cabin.

“Not like that, but more like affectionate cuddling for Dimamda,” answered the Aekhu male as if he’d been accused of something illegal. “She says I’m like a cuddly blanket warmer at ship-night. If Zhevikh and I ever have pups, Dimamda will be an aunt to them, like a Human godmother.”

“I think I see.”

“Well, maybe you’re not too young as you look, just now of age and all. Do you have any litter mates?”

“I’m going home to see my brother and his mate-wife,” admitted Qithka, again with a half-lie. While Esksa nodded his understanding, she had to mentally adjust Gevaudan and Zhevra upwards as Qithka’s uncle and aunt-in-law. Zhevra’s cubs, likely ten years old now in the New Era, were Qithka’s cousins now. But the thought did not sit quite right.

“And where are they, if you don’t mind my asking?” pressed Esksa curiously. As a curtesy, he picked up Qithka’s finished plate and silverware and began washing them for her.

Qithka had already admitted she was bound for the Society of Equals to Dimamda. She would likely pass the answer to Esksa’s question later. Partners tended to share everything. “My home is the Dzen Aeng Kho,” she said and rose.

“Society of Equals then,” translated Esksa. “Well we can’t control where we are born, eh?” The male Aekhu wagged his tail. “How about that physical? Are you tired?”

Though Qithka had been jittery with anticipation all the previous night, she had slept some. “I’m not tired. I can work a shift if needs be.” Qithka was trying to circumnavigate the examination. She had endured enough tests and physicians for an entire cub-hood her body never experienced.

“Sorry,” bulwarked Esksa. “Standard operating procedures, Miss Qithka. If you’re nervous about being on a new crew or ship, I can ask Zevikh or Dimamda to stand in the Clinic with us.”

Qithka shook her head negatively, “I said I wasn’t shy.”

 

[The Pakkrat]

Chapter 16
Vincennes (Deneb 1122) A899AA6-G Hi In Cp Reg
77-1200
Esksa performed the physical in the ship’s Clinic with his mate-wife Zevikh present anyway. He mumbled something about his mate-wife and him being a ‘gentleman’ as well as a Medic. Using the descriptor again harkened Qithka back through the Dame’s memories. Gevaudan used to address other males, those who were not Equals of his home polity as ‘Gentleman’ instead of ‘Mister’ or ‘sir’. It was Gev’s way of being polite even though the person he was addressing had not taken the Equality Test. Such was silly to Qithka because of their travels through the Spinward Marches and meeting Imperials, Zhodani, Darrians, Vargr and Sword Worlders who had no chance of being Equal if they had not traveled Coreward to visit the Dzen Aeng Kho and stayed there long enough to take the Test. But Gevaudan was trying to be polite, perhaps as a result of his Scout training. To non-Equal females, the Dame’s brother would instead use ‘Madam’ as a step down from the Equal status. Qithka01 saw herself in the Clinic mirror and reminded herself that this body had not taken the Equality Test. Would the Dzuerongvoe planetary government require the Relict Clone to take, or in the Dame‘s case re-take the Test? Qithka already generally knew the main aspects of the Equality Test and to her it seemed as if she would be cheating somehow. Though the proctors changed or varied the Test in unforeseen ways, Qithka would have a somewhat leg up from the other teenagers in the rigors and challenges. Without passing the Test, many upper echelon careers were denied to a citizen of the Society of Equals.

With the physical examinations done and vitals completed, Esksa sent his mate-wife Zevikh from the Clinic and back to whatever duties she had been called away from. Qithka zipped up her ship uniform and waited for a clean bill of health. Just as she thought the Medic was going to give her a Green light, the Aekhu stopped her short of leaving the Clinic.

“I now know why you rate in so many ship operations skills, Miss Qithka,” Esksa quietly declared. The male put down his testing results and his writing utensil. His declaration froze Qithka’s blood. When she did not respond, having locked her ocean blue eyes on him, Esksa continued. “The physical confirmed it with the ship’s computer’s help. Are you aware that your body is a Relict Clone, Miss Qithka?”

The question unnerved the teenager in the Clinic. Though Qithka’s mind and personality was now 130 years old, her body still reacted like a late adolescent. Her mind raced for possible answers. She watched the Medic’s paralanguage for any displays that might threaten her. Carefully, she nodded once in affirmation.

“May I see your UPP card then?” asked Esksa. He looked serious, but his movements were gentle. There were no threatening gestures or alarmed expressions on the Medic. Qithka produced her black card with the raised gold letters and surrendered it to the Aekhu. She kept her eyes on Esksa though.

Esksa read the numbers and confirmed them against his physical examination results. He nodded twice and finished reading the card. Then he returned it to Qithka.

“My apologies, Dame Qithka01 Cannagrrh,” said Esksa as he flattened his ears embarrassedly, “Relict Clones are very expensive and that makes them very rare. Even more rare is that there is no precedent of an ethnic Gvegh Relict Clone in the Regency of Deneb. You have the personality, experience, memories, skills and talents of the one before you, but you won’t live as long as her. Am I right? I’ve only seen a Relict Clone of a Human once. He was a distinguished and decorated Noble and Admiral in the Navy.”

Qithka whispered to Eska, “Please don’t call me Dame, Gentleman Esksa.” She used ‘gentleman’ as Gevaudan had, to be polite as possible. “And I’d prefer not to be called Qithka01. I’m sure that Noble did not like the numbers on his name either.”

Esksa’s eyes dropped to look at Qithka’s retreating tail, hidden behind her. “They put that stripe on your tail, huh? The Admiral had a tattooed black ring about his right wrist which he covered with his wrist chronometer-comm.”
Qithka nodded quietly and nervously snatched up her tail and began wringing it at the black stripe. She desperately wanted to dye it white or bleach it out now.

“To be able to afford Life Insurance,” noted the Aekhu male, “the Dame must have been at least affluent.”

“I- she was,” answered Qithka, her inward frustration rising. “I couldn’t access her funds until just before boarding the Arrkolltsue. But I am a full civilian sophont of Vincennes, Gentleman Esksa. You can check the PubNet, if you have to.”

Esksa held up his claws in a surrendered gesture. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry, miss. Your young appearance and display of Pilot on the Takhs gave me the hint. I’m a physician and the ship’s Medic. I know how to keep patient confidentiality.” His charisma was retreating before Qithka’s inherited charisma.

Qithka stepped forward, “I’d like that. I don’t want to be the Dame again, I think. She was famous, and her fans were attacked by purists likely goaded by COTCO while I was being reborn. It’s why the Zirunkariish Healthcare arcology was destroyed yesterday.”

Esksa, reached over to the Clinic door and locked it. “May I hear about it, Miss Qithka?” He did not want another crew member to barge into the Medic’s domain. “While you work on this ship, I can keep your patient information in confidence.”

Qithka took a reluctant hour of recounting to Esksa Relltsou her story. She began with the last days of the Dame’s life as she remembered it. She omitted any mention of Uthka Varzeekh and supplanted her with her Pack as the source of her personality engram and luggage. The Relict Clone then told of her awakening in the laboratory on the cloning floor at Zirunkariish through the last day before making her escape to the Starport. Then she ended her story with a question. “What did you mean about not living as long as the Dame?”

Esksa’s claw rose to his mouth as if he had blurted out something offensive to Qithka. From behind that claw, the Medic admitted, “If I’m not mistaken, Miss Qithka, Relict Clones begin aging one Life Stage, between four and sixteen years, ahead of their pattern parent. But on the other claw, you don’t require schooling, secondary education or the need to take up a career with being reborn into a new life. You get to live your life somewhat earlier than the rest of us.”

“I’m not sure I like being a teenager…again.”

Esksa shrugged. “You get to be an adolescent prodigy, full of skills and talents. And if you like, once your accounts come fully accessible, Miss Qithka, you can get a real liner ride home.”

Qithka shook her head. “The Dame was too famous for me to travel like that. Her detractors alleged that the company BeastMasters messed with my genes somehow. You saw my physical measurement digits on the UPP. Almost perfect, like I won a lottery or was blessed by favor of the Ancients. They think I’m a threat to Vargr genotype, that I’ll have geneered cubs who will taint the entire Vargr species. That’s why they bombed the arcology. It will take some days or weeks to comb through the shambles to learn that I was not killed by its collapse. Less than that if anyone checks the security cameras at the Starport terminal.” As Qithka laid out her trail and failures to hide, Esksa’s eyes slowly widened with amazement at the teenage centenarian before him. “Why are you making that face?” Qithka asked him.

Surprised and resetting his face, Esksa Relltsou backpedaled with, “It-it’s just that you speak like an adult Agent of the Regency or hardened officer in the Navy. You talk with confidence and experience that no new adult teenager would have, without the latest generation’s slang or lingo. It’s like I’m speaking to an adult trapped in a young body.”

“I was on anagathics-…I mean, she was taking anagathics until they failed her at 129 years of age, Esksa.” Still wringing the black strip of her tail, Qithka continued. “Dame Qithka Cannagrrh was a famous, loved and despised, field correspondent Entertainer, propaganda actress and a general snooping Traveller. She had the Traveller bug in her.”

Esksa rubbed his muzzle chin in reaction before saying, “Travellers are dangerous folk. They’re not like the rest of society, to be content with one’s lot in life on a single world. Travellers get out there among the stars and put their lives on the line in a wider universe. Do you think you still have the itch?”

Qithka nodded affirmatively but said in contradiction, “I don’t know. I do know that my brother-uncle is dying, and I want badly to go home to Dzuerongvoe before he translates. His mate-wife may need me to come home to the Pack as there are some loose ends, succession of the Alpha being one of them.”

“This Pack, Cannagrrh is it?” asked Esksa. “It must be an influential one given the Dame’s fame and affluence to afford a Life Insurance.”

 

[The Pakkrat]

“Oh, I took out that contingency long before-,” Qithka began to explain but stopped herself. “It doesn’t matter. My brother needs me as I already know that his mate-wife will refuse to become the next Alpha. She’s a Suedzuk, or more commonly or vulgarly said – a Red-Pelt.”

“Red-Pelt Corsairs,” nodded the Aekhu male before young Qithka. “And before them, the infamous Sack of Gashikan.” His eyes glazed as he remembered the history for which the Suedzuk were hated and hunted by Humaniti. That history had caused other ethnicities of Vargr to be hated almost as much as the Red-Pelts.

“That was millennia ago, Esksa,” countered Qithka. “It happened on the far side of Charted Space, more than two thousand years ago and five sectors of space away. Zhevra Cannagrrh isn’t like that, not like her ancestors. She is a hero to Pack Cannagrrh, Vizier to the Alpha of the Pack and Gevaudan’s mate-wife. There is a cub too.”

Esksa continued rubbing his chin. Qithka noted it and inwardly guessed that his was the Aekhu’s thinking gesture. Then he said, “A Gvegh married a Suedzuk from the Enclaves, huh?”

“Well, Zhevra told me – grr, the Dame - that the Enclaves were just as Virus-Splintered by 1185,” explained the Relict Clone, “and besides, what’s wrong with that? You’re married to one of us Gvegh. And you have a panet as you call the Vilani woman. Are we Gvegh that bad?” Qithka put her claws on her hips in challenge. She knew that the Gvegh ethnicity quietly saw the Aekhu Vargr as collared and leashed Vargr from before the Collapsed Third Imperium. The Aekhu had, as Nurse Dhoer told her, integrated with Human societies starting at the dinner table. Changing the Aekhu diet was the trade-off to becoming more acceptable Vargr to the Imperials. The cultural shift the Aekhu had taken from the mainstream Vargr ethnicities made them look like domesticated puppies at best and race traitors at worst.

Esksa Relltsou chuckled and held his claws up again in acquiescence, “Okay okay. You got me, Miss Qithka. It shouldn’t matter who a sophont loves. It took me a long time to bring the crew up to speed about my panet Dimamda, that we weren’t sleeping together. But I do love her, and she loves me. And my Gvegh mate-wife wants the Vilani woman to stay with us. Zevikh loves Dimamda too.” Qithka’s charisma had an effect on Esksa as he backed away from the teenager. He gathered up his test results and put them into a folder. “Hardcopy only then, Miss Qithka. You can keep it in your cabin.” He then held out the folder with Qithka’s data to her.

Qithka nodded before accepting the medical dossier on her. “Thank you, Esksa Relltsou.”

“Don’t mention it.” She had backed Esksa to his corner of the Clinic with her expanding charisma.

“I won’t.” Wagging her ringtail, Qithka then left the Clinic for her crew cabin.

 

[The Pakkrat]

Chapter 17
Vincennes (Deneb 1122) A899AA6-G Hi In Cp Reg
77-1200
Qithka saw Zevikh stepping onto the bridge with two soft drinks in her claws. Spotting Qithka sitting at the Astrogation station, she approached. Qithka was sitting with her back to the Console boards and facing the iris valve in which her fellow Gvegh had entered. Zevikh had observed Qithka work on a two-parsec jump to Northammon (Deneb 0921) for over an hour. Qithka had been deceptively slow as the Captain-Owner of the Arrkolltsue stood over the teenager. Growing bored with not helping Qithka, Zevikh had stepped down a deck to procure two beverages from the galley. But upon returning, she found Qithka waiting for her, the calculations to be fed into the computer completed.

Qithka smiled guiltily and failed to control the wagging of her striped tail. She had changed the pace of her calculations, hastily finishing the jump course in half the time it would have taken normally. Having fast, young digits on her claws helped key in the results of the pathway coordinates to Northammon. The Dame’s years among Corsairs a lifetime past had more than a few times put her at the Astrogation boards of a pirate vessel. But snapping back to the present, Qithka received her soda pop with a half-smile. The Dame in her wanted something alcoholic, but in this new body, Zevikh was preventing a teenager from drinking on the bridge or perhaps anywhere on the ship. This denial served to remind Qithka01 of her youthful Relic Clone reality.

“Wait,” said Zevikh before drinking from her aluminum can of soda. “I just left you on fixing our 100D origination, Miss Qithka. Are you done already?”

“Pathway to Northammon laid in and waiting for confirmation in 24 hours as standard, ma’am,” answered the ring-tailed white-pelt. Then she sipped her soda again. “Look for yourself, ma’am.”

Zevikh did lean to the Astrogation boards and saw the completed pathway to Northammon, just 100 Diameters from the mainworld. There were no Gas Giants in the target system and refueling would be necessary at the Downport. Qithka had deduced that the only reason why the Modular Cutter had been taken to Vincennes Down was to allow Chief Engineer Dimamda to purchase the bag full of parts and components. Zevikh whistled once. “You must be some kind of cub prodigy to put us right on the 100D line. Are you that confident that the computer will agree with your pathway, my young supercomputer?”

“Put me off the ship, ma’am if the ship denies me or we breakout anywhere else in Northammon,” dared Qithka.

“Pilot and an Astrogator now,” nodded the Captain as she finished looking over the jump, jump transit and precipitation to the target system. “Wish I was that young to have such skills. Okay, smart girl, you’ve earned your passage this transit. Your bed calls, if I’m not mistaken.”

Rather than demand to stay up late like a belligerent teen, Qithka nodded, stood with her soda in a claw accepted her dismissal from the bridge. Inwardly, Qithka felt she had used the Dame to cheat. As she climbed down the ladder hatch to the crew deck, Qitkha01 realized that her new life was going to be one cheat after another. She had the skills of a 129-year old pattern mother in her. There might never be a time that she could not call upon the Dame’s experience in this new life. The burst of insight stopped Qithka01 outside her cabin door. It was a sobering thought and a question arose within her. Would she ever be surprised by a task she had no guidance from the Dame to complete?

Aft along the axis hallway was a crew member, the Terran Solomani Kyle. He was double-checking the docking linkage between the Armed Junker and its modular cutter. He turned his blonde head to regard the young Vargr female. Qithka ducked into her cabin room at the sight of those azure, Human eyes. Zhevra had repeatedly told the Dame that Gevaudan’s eyes were ocean blue and not crystal azure. They were once crystal azure as were the Terran eyes down the hallway. Qithka put her back to her cabin door and locked it from the inside.

Zhevra Cannagrrh had ranted in her recovery at Cannagrrh Villa, that her mate-husband’s eyes were azure, quite different than his usual color when he had been struck by the Mind Tsunami and driven mad enough to nearly kill his mate-wife in mistaking her for a hallucination of the so-called Empress In Black that plagued him for the next three or so years. Was this Terran afflicted? Would he go mad soon and attack everyone? Qithka listened to the hall with her lupine ear to the door.

“Feh. Experiment,” scoffed the Human at Qithka’s door as he passed her cabin in the hallway. Qithka held her breath until the Terran was out of earshot. Perhaps she was panicking irrationally, she thought. Were there more Terran Solomani with such deep azure eyes?

The teenager nerves in Qithka01 got the best of her, so she padded to her bed and climbed under the covers. Before she knew it, her personal day was over. The starship bunk was a hundred times more comfortable than the hospital bed in which she had been sleeping at the arcology. Between physical training, meals and tests, that horrid bed did nothing for Qithka except conceal her late-night exposure to the truth of the protests surrounding her iteration.

The dream featured a grav-van chase through Vincennes Down. Skyscrapers slid dangerously past the flying vehicle as Qithka desperately tried to grab the manual flight controls. When her grav-van struck a crowd of protestors, all of them hate-filled, Qithka awoke to silence and darkness of her crew cabin. She had forgotten to set a night-light. Such gentle illumination was standard in the hospital room. She found herself clutching the blankets and trying to manipulate the covers in her claws as if they were the controls to the grav-van. Panting and whimpering, Qithka listened to the hum of the ship’s maneuver drive. Overheating, she threw down her covers and reached over to her nearby carry-on bag to fish out her hand computer. The time was 0316, too early to be awake. However, Qithka had yet to acclimate to ship time. And she had fallen asleep in her uniform. The Dame she remembered would never have climbed into bed without changing into more comfortable bed clothes.

Fumbling into undies and a tank top, Qithka sat down at the computer terminal. Activating it, the flat screen flooded her cabin with an ambient glow. Qithka played with menus from the ship’s Library, looking for something to read. Perhaps some instruction in a skill the Dame did not have proficiency as an off-duty diversion. She then noticed an in-system PubNet packet had been received by the ship’s Comms. Qithka watched in horror as the long list of names scrolled, the dead identified in the collapse of the Zirunkariish Healthcare arcology. Her lawyer, Executor Sorrlloutsun was not on the list, thank the Ancients. Qithka remembered that he had been acquiring a magistrate or judge’s signature to welcome Dame Qithka01 Cannagrrh, the Regency’s first ethnic, Gvegh, Vargr Relict Clone into society. But the tears would not stop flooding her eyes when she saw Nurse Dhoer’s name scroll on the list. Doctors Sharuur and Kishe were also listed as dead.

Investigations had identified that demolition shape charges had destroyed several core supports, allowing the pyramidal arcology to collapse inward upon itself. There was only a single footage of the collapse. A pedestrian protestor had stayed long enough to catch the implosion on his hand computer camera. The alleged Dame Detractor had been found dead when huge slabs of debris struck the person and tossing the wobbling imager to a side. Then the image settled on the street and its view was engulfed in a wall of dust clouds and smoke. Glows from inside the bank of clouds were explained by the news anchors to be the earliest fires that had sparked to life. It was another disaster that young Qithka was glad the Dame was no longer around to be on scene and reporting live. Qithka tried to drown her sobbing with the forgotten can of soda only to find it flat of its carbonation. Flat like the arcology.

A trip to the fresher caused Qithka’s reflection in the mirror to confront her. The Dame had caused all of this death and destruction. The sad adolescent in the mirror visually and mentally accused the late Equal Dame Qithka Cannagrrh. And it was all because she was afraid of dying in the guessed-at War to come. Oh, she knew about the Outworld Coalition movements, the Zhodani, Extents Vargr and the Sword Worlds that was soon to converge upon the Third Imperium in the Spinward Marches. Dame Qithka was more a Vargr spy than Gevaudan Cannagrrh could ever have been. A few signatures with Zirunkariish and off to adventure with her brother, the famous Blooded Fang had nothing to worry about and soon forgot about the purchase of Life Insurance. More people died on Vincennes than in the entirety of her days gallivanting about the Marches, District 268 and the Darrian Confederation. Sure, there was danger and a sure-fire means to any number of deaths for the Dame. But those paled in comparison to the wholesale slaughter whatever splinter group prodded by the Church Of The Chosen had done and been disavowed. They hoped to reach up, through twenty fortress stories and kill the iterated Dame.

 

[The Pakkrat]

And they missed! Then that realization bore into Qithka’s stomach. Last night’s dinner was too greasy, or she was dying of survivor’s guilt. Several deep breaths later while panting and suspending her muzzle over the fold-down toilet in nauseous heaves reminded the young Relict Clone that she could not eat whatever she wanted, even if it was prepared by a proficient Aekhu. Qithka needed to secretly let Medic Esksa know that she was still newly iterated and needed time to acclimate to shipboard food. But the tears never let up until she was again in bed, drained and in fetal position under the covers.

 

[The Pakkrat]

Chapter 18
Vincennes (Deneb 1122) A899AA6-G Hi In Cp Reg
78-1200
When a wrung out Qithka opened her cabin door a few hours later, Dimamda saw a majority of her white pelt, swollen dry eyes and ringed tail. Dimamda had been ringing her door buzzer for a minute or so and Qithkha had to drag her tail out of bed.

“Shit, girl,” said the Vilani woman in Gvegh. “What happened to you?”

“Not used to ship food yet,” groaned the teenage voice of the female Vargr.

“And you said you had ship skills.”

“Work already?” asked Qithka, her 01 still ringing in the back of her head.

“Yeah,” nodded Dimamda. “Zevikh says you’re with me today. I brought you one of our smallest uniforms. Yours had a polity insignia or state banner on the shoulder. That won’t do inside Regency. Here. Get dressed.”

Checking the hallway for Kyle the Terran male, Qithka nodded once and let the Chief Engineer inside to help her into the uniform. Qithka spotted the Vilani woman looking at her tail as she was dressed. At least the nausea was gone this morning. Brushing her new teeth helped freshen Qithka. “Engineering today?” she asked between brush strokes.

“You said M- and J-Drives, right?” asked Dimamda while nodding. “My turn to see what you’ve got. We’ll be installing and calibrating the nexus I bought, cleaning the drives and safety-checking the containment on the Power Plant today.”

Work. Real work. It was the first true labor for some kind of compensation that Qithka01 was to undertake in this new life. If the Dame could do it on the Sixth Horizon, then an energetic, 1-year old teenager should have plenty of energy for a day of tedium.

“There,” declared the Vilani woman. “Now you look like one of us. Let’s get started.”

Qithka the younger was wrong. To her small body, those drives were much larger than she remembered. She had to be explained by Dimamda that 500 tons of ship is pushed, (or pulled in the case of the Arrkolltsue), by larger Drives than the ones remembered motivating the 200-ton Sixth Horizon. And Gevaudan had cleaned those himself without the Dame’s complaints of snapping a claw nail. Qithka01 broke three that day as she helped seat the Nexus, bolt it down and connect its power conduits and calibrate its fittings to the Jump Drive in hopes of someday hooking up a second Jump Drive. Then the two could be coordinated in a wider range of parsecs than one, two or three capable by the one she had to clean next. By hand and with a spray cleaner and a pile of cloths, Qithka helped Dimamda wipe down every nook and cranny of the Maneuver Drive and the Jump Drive.

“Small claws reach those neglected crevices, girl,” announced the Vilani Engineer. “Thanks for that. Zevikh might hug us both at the gleam we’ve made.”

“I’d rather a long, hot and steamy bath,” huffed the sore Vargr adolescent.

“You take baths?” asked Dimamda.

Qithka’s eyes unfocused with the memory of taking a real bath in the tub back hom-…on Dzuerongvoe. Remembering that she was not like the Dame, Qithka dispelled the memory and nodded affirmatively.

“Great!” smiled the woman. “We can get hot spring baths on Northammon. That is if I can get both Zevikh and my panet to come along.”

“I’m not your panet,” came Esksa Relltsou’s voice from the hatch in the ceiling. “You’re mine, Dimamda.” The male Aekhu had poked his head down through the hatch to the deck above. “Brunch, girls!” The appearance of Esksa’s head through the deck above was silly and made Qithka smile without laughing.

Sighing with relief, Qithka helped Dimamda pick up the install packaging, put away tools, pick up the used rags and stow the cleaning agents before she was allowed to wash up for a meal she could hopefully keep down this time. Then came the climb up the hatch ladder for which her arms thanked her with sore muscles aching. The Dame inside Qithka remembered that to make those pains lessen, the young Vargr would have to keep up the regimen until a day’s work did not hurt.

Thin-sliced slabs of various glazed, spiced, salted and shredded meats accompanied by energy drinks were filling the air in the galley with their aromas. Qithka salivated at the sight, but then drew the Aekhu Medic aside. Explaining her nausea from the night before, Esksa nodded and produced four, zero-g packets of pureed meals and pushed them to Qithka.

As the other crew ate, Esksa whispered, “You showed me your UPP card after dinner, Qithka. I bet you got fed applesauce or some other paste in the cloning facility. You’re not even a year old, miss. Your eyes were bigger than your tummy.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m your daughter, Esksa,” warned Qithka who then reluctantly turned from the galley and taking her meal packets to her cabin.
Esksa scratched his left ear and watched Qithka go. He looked like he was scolded by a cub and unsure whether to back away from Qithka’s internal charisma or to put a back-talking brat over a knee. With a bottle of water and the packet of freefall food, Qithka ate a Spacer brunch rather than the aromatic feast in the galley.

 

[The Pakkrat]

Chapter 19
Vincennes (Deneb 1122) A899AA6-G Hi In Cp Reg
80-1200
Two days later, the Arrkolltsue approached the 100-Diameter limit from Vincennes mainworld, the jump point in which the Armed Junker would initiate jump transit from the system to jump space. In that time, Qithka had taken her meals alone and in her cabin to stop the olfactory torture of not yet being able to eat normal food teasing her nose. The Dame in her was satisfied by this in that the daughter remembered that in the Dzen Aeng Kho, Equals did not dine with non-Equals if such could be avoided. Qithka again pushed her pattern mother’s upbringing back into distant memory, citing that the daughter had not taken the Equality Test in this life if such a thing was to be required of her.

Today, Qithka dressed in her issue ship uniform, stood by at the Engineering console for the Jump Drive. Nearby was Chief Engineer Dimamda, already grimy and human-scented from a workload that she never seemed to complete.

“You ready over there, Qithka?” asked Dimamda.

Qithka tried to sound official, “Jump Drive ready on command.” She was to initiate the jump at Capt. Zevikh’s command. The rest of the crew was on the ship’s bridge. The outer viewports had already been closed, hiding the quicksilver of jump space soon to be held back by the jump bubble of the starship.

Dimamda had her human hands on the consoles assigned to the Maneuver Drive and the Power Plant. Soon a large volume of the ship’s fuel would be expended in jump, the faster-than-light or FTL travel that erected a jump bubble to protect the Armed Junker from jump space for the week or so in transit. The Engineer tapped the ship’s intercom and spoke, “Ready down here, Zevikh. Fuel Green, Maneuver Drive dormant, and Power Plant Green.”
The intercom answered with Zevikh’s female voice, “In the hole in ten, nine, eight…”

At the count of seven, Qithka saw Dimamda tap the console screen. The entire ship’s inner and outer lighting dimmed to a quarter luminosity. The Dame inside the young daughter remembered that this was a Vilani tradition holdover - jump dimming. In millennia past, Vilani dimmed and lowered internal power to prepare for jump, to lessen the chances of electrical failure as the ship transited to jump space.

“Six, five, four, three, two….” Counted the Captain’s voice over the intercom.
Qithka’s index claw digit hovered over the COMMIT button of the console screen before her.

“...One. Jump.”

The youngest sophont, Qithka initiated the transit to jump space. Nearby, Dimamda watched intently as the fuel was quickly expended through the Jump Drive’s bubble emitters placed all about the ship’s hull. The indicator dropped rapidly. In a single second, ninety tons of liquid hydrogen fuel was expended to erect that field and protect the ship from its own departure from the universe.

“Power still Green,” reported the Chief Engineer who wiped her forehead with a forearm. The action only transferred some of the grime from her arm to the woman’s face.

“Jump field Green,” added Qithka.

From the bridge via the intercom, Capt. Zevikh answered calmly, “Sensors confirm. Were in the hole. Projections say 170 hours but you know how that goes. We’re standing down the bridge.”

With the Arrkolltsue now in jump space for the next week or so, Qithka knew her working passage meant simpler housekeeping chores and duties. The starship had nothing else to do but wait out the duration of jump. Qithka found herself cleaning up after meals in the galley, checking the cargo hold daily, and in her spare time washing off each day. As an Entertainer, the Dame had very little to do in her adventures other than interview ship crew, watch the actions and decisions of those in the Artemis Group and-

Something inside Qithka01 made a decision. She did not want the Dame’s old Entertainer Career. The daughter may have the skills and the memories for snooping, but it was Dimamda’s grunge look, that devil-may-care attitude and grit work well done that endeared the space lanes to her. She wanted a vessel of her own to captain. Aside this dream, Qithka took classes from the ship’s Library in a random physical activity to help her body tone up for a new life. The computer chose Dancer at random once she had stated verbally her desires. Dance it was then. The physical motions in the first few days brought back memories of Zhevra Cannagrrh, Gevaudan’s widow at the time, who performed a fan dance at the Dame’s Fete. The Suedzuk used two fans to help tell her story through interpretive dance. The Dame never told Zhevra that she had been touched by that dance in honor of her assumed-dead brother. Qithka01 now wanted to move like Zhevra had.

Qithka practiced her new skill both in her stateroom so the computer could watch and judge her movements but also in the vast, empty cargo hold. Using her hand computer clipped to her belt and a pair of Vargr earbuds, Qithka danced about in various dances of the day. For the week in jump space, Qithka experimented with more than a few dances taught to her by the ship’s Library. Some were Vargr exotic dances like the Ovaghoun dances females displayed for their mates. Qithka tried some human dances that she knew that there would need more practice in the future. On day seven, Qithka was dancing in the cargo hold when her feet pads felt the first jump rumblings, the vibrations that heralded the weakening of the jump field generally an hour or more before breakout back to normal space. It was time to see how accurate her Astrogation calculations had been. She hoped to impress Capt. Zevikh, satisfy herself and reassure the Dame in her. Yet, as she dressed in an issue Vacc Suit per standard operating procedures for breakout, Qithka felt again that she was cheating. Would this life become a long string of episodes where the Dame evidenced through her? Qithka paused on her walk to the bridge and thought. The athletics at the Zirunkariish arcology and now the Dance routines she was learning were the first steps to asserting her own, new personality and identity. The Dame would likely not fade, but Qithka01 would add to or overlay the new life and make it the prime in time. The daughter would need patience. The Dame had 129 years to hold over the Relict Clone inheritor.

Today, on the bridge, Qithka had been assigned to Sensors and took her position at the SensOps-Comms console. In the pilot seat was the Solomani Kyle Stonecipher who frowned at her arrival. Capt. Zevikh sitting at Astrogation, nodded at the young Vargr but then wagged her tail and said, “Suit-and-tie, Qithka. You can take off your helmet and fix it to your belt.”

Qithka flushed under her facial fur. In her walk to the bridge, she had sealed her helmet shut while her mind had been on other topics. Suit-and-tie was ship jargon, a holdover from Navy-speak that meant that a crew member was to suit up in a Vacc Suit, but the helmet was not required except in emergencies. “Yes, Capt-, I mean ma’am.” Complying with the correction, Qithka then put her attention on the Sensors board. Through the decks, all could feel the rumblings intensifying.

When Qithka’s Sensors boards displayed the forward melting of the jump field and the first aperture of normal space and stars, she called out, “Breakout, ma’am.”

 

[The Pakkrat]

“Let’s see…,” answered Zevikh. From the corner of her eyes as she scanned the ship’s vicinity with Scopes, Radar, Neutrino Detectors and EMS, Qithka saw the Captain confirming the ship’s position with data the younger Vargr was swiping over to the Astrogation board.

“Oh. Oh! Very nice, girl,” congratulated Zevikh. “Somewhere between 100D and 101D of Northammon and already an easy vector toward the planet. Well done. We can open the viewports and forward panoramic now.” About the ship, the energies of the jump precipitation, a bright and fading light was aft and the dark of space to forward, viewable through various transparent viewports.

Qithka blushed even more but knew the praise was passing through her and heaping upon the Dame’s skillset. But though she felt she was cheating gain, Qithka continued to monitor the Sensors boards. “No contacts within Long Range, ma’am. Local has likely seen our jump flash. Shall I hail Northammon Traffic Control?”

“We’re staying only a couple of days,” Zevikh said as she rubbed her lupine chin. Qithka saw that Esksa had the same gesture and wondered who gleaned it from who. Vargr did not generally rub their chins in thought. That was a human action for those with facial hair, the males. “Liberty and Trade is the order.”

“Yes, ma’am,” answered Qithka before changing virtual boards to the Comm-8 and slipping on a headset and boom microphone. Already, she could hear system traffic chatter in the earphones. Keying the transmit button she spoke clearly and with the Dame’s Charisma, “Northammon STC, this is 2JF-SU22 Arrkolltsue inbound.” Qithka then spoke formal greetings to the human voice that answered her. She swiped the given approach vector over to the helm just as the Maneuver Drives came online. Then, without waiting for further orders as she monitored the long-range sensors boards, Qithka saw that everyone on the bridge was watching her.

Zevikh was visually sizing Qithka up, her tail no longer wagging. The human Kyle had looked over his shoulder but then was trying to hide it by examining the route she had just sent him. Esksa who had nothing better to do, was shaking his Aekhu head gently at Qithka. Qithka then realized what she had done. She had let the Dame do the talking on the Comms, exuding her true force of personality rather than playing the part of a teenager. Backing down to a relaxed stance, she demurred and wagged her tail like a youth.

The gesture disarmed the moment and Zevikh nodded her head only curiously, “Make for Northammon Orbital Starport. We’ll only be a couple of days for R&R and Trade. Blades only, crew, is the local law.” Qithka buried herself in the Sensors boards and tried to become very small for the rest of the shift. Had she outed herself as a Relict Clone? Though she was just now seen as a new adult Vargr, Qithka knew that in the Dame’s post-adolescence it took time and accomplishments to come into one’s Charisma. Qithka had just let out the Dame’s voice with all the Knighthood and Entertainer’s presence without thinking of what such might sound like coming from a young female.

For the rest of the inbound trip from jump point, Qithka continued her shipboard chores, laundered her wardrobe and practiced dancing in her cabin before the computer terminal. When the Maneuver Drives went silent from their normal hum, Qithka put on her purple leotard and jeans outfit once more. On her neoprene, clip belt she snapped on her ceramic Blade and tilted it horizontal just above her tail below the small of her back. Her pistol looked forlorn and denied to her imagination as she closed the aluminum case. Uthka’s Instellarms 9mm body pistol would have to wait until she returned from liberty. Northammon, she had researched did not allow for firearms for its citizens and visitors. But at least a female could carry a hand-to-hand if something beyond teeth and claws was desired.

 

[The Pakkrat]

Chapter 20
Northammon (Deneb 0921) B764667-A Ag Ni Ri Mr
88-1200
Qithka stepped off the Takhs Cutter in the largest city’s Downport. Tergin was a mix of corporate optimism for Northammon’s future but skewed heavily in the agriculturist sector. There was only a single cluster of skyscrapers looming over the Downport and the metropolitan sprawl about them and the port thinned visibly from there. Ground and contragravity vehicles were seen as Qithka followed the trio of Capt. Zevikh Relltsou, her mate-husband Esksa and their Vilani panet Dimamda Aardadlum. Though to look at the close-knit triangle, she could see that the Vilani could clean up despite her grunge wear and take the lead planetside.

Qithka soon found through her hand computer synced to the local network that her inherited funds from her pattern mother had become fully available. Though they were subject to monetary surcharge to change to Regency credits, she had more than enough from the Dame to support her. But in trying to keep a lower profile as a new adult, Qithka became frugal and chose never to spend more than the other crew members at a single outing.

Dimamda found lodging in a rural, combine community in the northern hemisphere’s cooler mountains. “Hot springs onzen, here we come,” she said to both the terminal where she booked lodging and to her group plus Qithka.

“The others chose to stay in Tergin,” hummed Capt. Zevikh. “Nightlife over country retreat.”

“Their loss,” answered Dimamda with a smile. “Let’s go.”

A gravcar flight north from Tergin later, the two Gvegh, an Aekhu and a Vilani stepped out to a mountainside villa or manor rather than a standard hotel. Qithka saw a collection of single-story buildings with slanted roofs surrounded by decorative walking paths with tended gardens. The place was relaxing to look at and Qithka immediately liked the retreat. Vincennes and starship travel were all she had experienced in this life. Wooden privacy fences stretched a short distance up the side of the mountain. Qithka’s Vargr nose could smell the moisture from the hot springs baths she assumed were behind the lodgings. Additionally, she could see the cooling, vaporous clouds disappearing into the air above the fences.

The check-in desk was to the left as the four Travellers entered the lobby. A country-accented, Human-mix man welcomed them. “Welcome to Northammon’s Northsprings Lodge. Checking in?”

Nodding, Dimamda produced her UPP card since the stay was in her name. “Do you have all the typicals of an onzen?” she asked.

“We have a variety of services on call, ma’am,” answered the clerk. “UPPs for the other guests please?”

“What for?” asked the Vilani woman. Her hands went to her belted hips.

“Ah, sorry,” said the clerk who clasped his hands together, “but recent events between the K’kree Reservation, the agrarian faction and a local megacorp headquarters here has put everyone, including Regency Marines on Yellow status. As such we must register everyone who stays with us.”

Dimamda looked at her male panet and his mate-wife then to Qithka. “You brought your cards, yes?” A look of hope flashed on her eyes.

Qithka nodded after Zevikh and Esksa. So, that must be what the Trade Classification of Military Rule (Mr) had meant. Hence the prohibition of firearms. There was some history on Northammon she should have researched on the way down the gravity well. Yet, Qithka held back until the others had checked in and moved further into the lobby before she produced her solid black card with the raised golden letters.

The clerk had to double-take at reading Qithka’s Universal Personal Profile card. “Pardon me, D- “ Qithka cut him off with a shushing action.

“Quiet,” teenage Vargr hushed the man. “I’m incognito and not to be given special attention. Tell me you understand, sir.” The clerk had read her pattern mother’s title, now hers and likely had an inkling about Qithka’s inception date of last month. Waving her claw in denial of further questioning from the man, Qithka snatched back her card with a backhanding motion. “You get me?”

“Y-yes, mil-“

“And none of that,” hissed Qithka under her breath as the others moved to the rear glass doors to view the hot bath pools. Again, she had to restrain her charisma as the Dame. On Northammon, there was already in place Regency nobility and though the Dame was a Knight in name, ‘Blooded-Fang’ among Vargr, she wanted no such publicity to reach her or the crew of the Arrkolltsue. “No flags in the registry, no titles, no nothing.” The now-nervous clerk could only clam his mouth shut and nod his acknowledgement. Satisfied, Qithka discovered she had been leaning her torso up and over the clerk’s desk and was intruding his personal space. Inwardly surprised, she pulled back and stood relaxed once more. “Good. Room keys?”

 

[The Pakkrat]

Chapter 21
Northammon (Deneb 0921) B764667-A Ag Ni Ri Mr
88-1200
It was time to experience a luxury bath. Qithka wrapped herself in a towel and had a second over her forearm before her. Since she did not own a bathing suit since her years as the Dame, the lack of other adolescents or younglings at the onzen was a relief. Qithka halted before the dividing, privacy wall between the pools for adults and those meant for cubs or Human children. Alone and likely mistaken for such an adolescent, Qithka stepped out onto the veranda. But over the privacy wall, she could hear Dimamda, Esksa and Zevikh already enjoying the heated and treated waters.

Qithka was of age, but to prove it she would have to produce her UPP Card again. The pools for the younglings looked a joke to the Dame inside the teenage body. Then there was her development. How did Qithka see herself physically now? She had decided her identity in mind. The Dame’s time in Qithka’s head was annoying but sporadic. But now, she had the body of an of-age Vargr. That was irrefutable to Qithka01 who had wrapped herself in the towel before stepping from her rented room part of the larger suite shared by the others.

After what must have been minutes of boredom in the safe, child-friendly temperatures, Qithka’s ears perked when she heard her name called aloud and purposely from over the privacy wall. It was now after sunset and only the muted lighting, meant for adults staying up after younglings were put to bed, allowed the shadows of privacy over the veranda hot pools. Looking about her, Qithka rose and gathered her towels to enter the adults’ area pools.

The voices of Dimamda, Esksa and Zevikh enjoying the hot springs pools before were now more muted, the tone of voice changed. Rounding the wall, Qithka saw the Medic Esksa sitting in the hottest pool waters and flanked on either side by his mate-wife Zevikh and his panet Dimamda. All three were speaking in hushed voices as Qithka entered.

“It’s okay,” said Esksa speaking up. “They know you’re of age, Qithka.” The Medic of course knew that Qithka was technically older than any of them as she cautiously laid down her towels and slipped into the pools. Though no one was clad in bathing suits, Qithka still felt the Dame chiding her for exposure to those who were not Equals. And she did catch the male Vargr appreciating her body with his eyes, just for a second or two. The younger Qithka focused on how hot and relaxing the waters were. Mists rose as she sat in the water across from the Vilani, Aekhu and Gvegh.

Settling and watching the tactile play of the two females upon Esksa, Qithka found that Zevikh had kept her personal hand computer at the poolside. It was still on. Just as Esksa gave his panet a playful lick, Zevikh turned to face the newcomer. She was more serious than the other two.

Qithka was about to guess that the three adults wanted to include her in their hedonism when Zevikh announced, “Qithka, I got an email from Kyle, Llirzdugzngaell and Dhak. They just quit on me and the ship. They cited that they were not needed on the Arrkolltsue now that you were travelling with us. Qithka, Kyle outed you as a Relict Clone. I must say that the signs were all there. Gvegh Vargr don’t have ringed stripes that I’ve ever seen. Adolescents before their second decade don’t come with the shipboard skills you have mastered. And you seem to fill the room with charisma wherever you enter, Qithka.”

Caught flatfooted in the pool before the three adults, Qithka looked to Esksa. He gently shook his head and said, “I kept my part. I said nothing. I kept patient confidentiality.” The tactile play stopped, and he sat up in the waters between his mate-wife and Dimamda his panet. “Kyle must have known the clues too. That was not polite of him to do that to you.”

The taller Vilani woman Dimamda sat silently as she regarded the three Vargr in the pool. To Qithka, the Human must have sensed the serious airs and held her tongue.

“Someone want to fill me in about all this?” asked Zevikh. “I don’t keep secrets on my ship. Everyone on that tub in orbit knows that my family comes from a long line of scavenger Corsairs and that the Arrkolltsue was once a salvage pirate. Nowadays, I try to keep her on the right side of the law. So, Miss Qithka Cannagrrh, just who the Ancients were you?”

Wishing she could legally drink alcohol, Qithka instead swallowed her charisma and answered quietly, “I was the Dame Qithka Cannagrrh of Pack Cannagrrh on Dzuerongvoe (Gvurrdon 1413), star and anchor field journalist for Kfan Uzangou the interstellar magazine, Pack Alpha representative to the Council of Worlds in the Dzen Aeng Kho, and elder sister to my twin Senior Scout Gevaudan Cannagrrh who has his own titles and accomplishments. I need to return to my homeworld as soon as I can. My brother Gev is on his deathbed and I already know his wife and Vizier will not accept the mantle of Pack Alpha. His son, born of the Suedzuk Zhevra Cannagrrh is Gvegh but still too young to take up the title.” Qithka could have said more just then, but let her credentials sink in to Zevikh and Dimamda. Then, the white Vargr teenager sat up straighter and let the Dame in her speak with all the charisma of the Entertainer famous across Gvurrdon Sector.

The three listened as the Dame told her story. She glossed over very lightly the details about Uthka Varzeekh the precognitive seer as she spoke through the night in the hot tubs and pools. She spoke of the Fifth Frontier War, adventuring with her brother Gevaudan’s mercenary Artemis Group, his exile by then-Archduke Norris, her betrayal by Gevaudan’s Ploy on Ouse Faeg, the Dame’s return home to ascend to Pack Alpha. Ending her career as an Entertainer, Qithka Cannagrrh struggled through the occupation of the Thirz Empire after the Equality War to keep Pack Cannagrrh afloat. Her lobbying of the Council of Worlds was legendary as she laid out cold hard numbers and the psychohistory meddling of the Zhodani Consulate in the decades that preceded and followed the War. More and more chapters were piled up and exposed to the three across from the Relict Clone before them. Qithka spoke on into the night and in the privacy of the onzen.

The Dame spoke through Qithka01, her charisma far outmatching the collective charisma of those in the bath with her. The Entertainer used her skills as an author and a propaganda actress to paint the picture of the decades of history she had lived in her time. She had forgiven her brother Gevaudan for his betrayal, for the merciful project he had in mind which led to his title of the Vargrtarian of the Collapse a long series of rescue missions from the Virus-riddled Wilds to the Safes behind the Quarantine Line. The Dame spoke of the coming of Gev’s fourth mate-wife Zhevra and her traumatized adventures after Gevaudan’s Jump. Through it all, the Entertainer kept her objective, reporter’s calm even as each story had its emotions and play upon the three listeners.

There was the Dame’s mission to recover a long-lost cousin Kaer Cannagrrh and her adventures along the Edge between the Thirz Empire and the Society of Equals, to at last learn the truth behind the psychic phenomenon of the Mind Tsunami the Regency had termed the Empress Wave. But the years had finally stretched too thin for Dame Qithka Cannagrrh and her brother Senior Scout Gevaudan Cannagrrh. The story dropped off there because she was too dignified to speak about her last days at Cannagrrh Villa before her death.

At the closing of her story, Qithka01 put the Dame to rest and took up her new life story in waking up at the Zirunkariish Healthcare Arcology on the Cloning floor and the events of her escape before its bombing. She stressed that she felt cursed by the rumor that was circulating about Qithka01’s genes being possibly tampered with by BeastMasters, LIC. She felt she had not won some lottery but was chained to the potential of not being reborn a purely-Gvegh Vargr as the Ancients had intended. Qithka raised her claws up out of the water and looked at them in closing her explanatory story. “I want my brother,” she said to the trio, “and nothing is going to get in my way home, not Zirunkariish lawyers, not BeastMasters reclaimers, not the Regency, not the Wave-…” The claws had folded into fists when she as cut off by Zevikh Relltsou.

“Dame-, Qithka, whomever you are,” nodded the fellow Gvegh in the pool. “That is some life and it all makes sense now why you’d hide it. Kyle was always a Solomani supremacist. I’m just sad that he took Dakh and Llirzdugzngaell with him. They might have understood to hear your story.”

Qithka calmed to hear the reassuring tone in Zevikh’s voice. The Captain of the Arrkolltsue was speaking now if she was measuring her charisma correctly. Zevikh continued, “You want to go home, Qithka Whomever-you-are? We’re headed that way, to Gvurrdon Sector. You certainly don’t need credits with that past, but can I interest you in signing with us until we get you home?” The emotions of the trio lightened with hope. There were nods of approval from Esksa and his panet Dimamda in their Captain and the mate-wife of the three.

 

[The Pakkrat]

“There will be danger,” explained Qithka. “A megacorporation is worried that they’ve screwed up my-…the Dame’s Life Insurance policy with even the rumor of BeastMaster’s meddling. An executive on Unvaxa hung himself while I was on Vincennes. There has never before now been a Gvegh Vargr reiterated as a Relict Clone, a precedent.” She displayed her spread open claws. “I mean, look at this. My claws are bigger than I-…than she remembers. I can run like the wind again. It’s like I was perfected just a little bit. And that is what scares the purists of the Vargr Splinters and the Church Of The Chosen Ones the most. If I have cubs, I could potentially alter the genotype of the Vargr race in time.”

Esksa spoke up when his panet remained quiet and his mate-wife closed the gap between the two Gvegh. “That remains to be seen and no one should be allowed to tell you how you may reproduce, Miss Qithka. So, you add a little flavor to us Vargr. That’s evolution, yes? And from what I measured; it might be an improvement. Have your haters thought of that?” Esksa hugged Dimamda as Zevikh came up beside the adolescent in the waters.

Qithka shook her head in answer as she leaned into larger Zevikh’s hold. The purists had been denied her UPP stats out of patient confidentiality bulwarked by her lawyer. But rumors had a way of snowballing when compared to what was remembered and recorded of the Dame. “I just want to go home and see my-…uncle.” Nodding her white muzzle into Zevikh’s embrace, Qithka01 decided again that she was more comfortable being a new sophont than a reiterated Dame. Acknowledging Gevaudan as her uncle was a new steppingstone in that nagging decision.

The group stayed up well into the night to soak in the pools, trade massaging the tensions from stressed muscles and talking of plans and routes toward Gvurrdon Sector. By the time Qithka was in bed, she fell soundly asleep, much faster than the Dame whose mind was always keeping her awake at night.

 

[The Pakkrat]

Chapter 22
Northammon (Deneb 0921) B764667-A Ag Ni Ri Mr
89-1200
Energy. Qithka discovered she had energy. Having risen earlier than the adults, she decided to go jogging through the cool sunrise air. As she had at the Zirunkariish arcology, Qithka chose to explore her new body through exercise and dance. Though last night’s talk was fresh on her mind, having offspring was the furthest from her mind. The Dame had fallen in love with her career. As she jogged with intermittent bursts of sprinting, Qithka wondered what passions would creep into her life in this iteration. She was free of the need for Education. And the daughter could always default to the Dame’s experience. Esksa was right to say that Qithka could begin this new life much earlier than the Dame had. Putting one foot in front of the other seemed to maintain this momentum she was building towards a purpose.

But it was her feet and the size of her claws that drew Qithka’s attention during a break to turn around and jog back to the onzen for breakfast. There was still one test she knew of that could help Qithka determine if she was indeed tampered with by BeastMasters or was simply going through some awkward, teenage growth spurt. Qithka returned to bed and breakfast via an uphill route. She had so much more energy than the Dame remembered.


Cast of Characters
Gevaudan Cannagrrh – male Gvegh Vargr Equal, dying Alpha of Pack Cannagrrh, mediocre psionicist
Dame Qithka Cannagrrh – female Gvegh Vargr Equal, Sister-Dame to Gevaudan Cannagrrh
Zhevra Cannagrrh – female Suedzuk Vargr Equal, mate-wife to Gevaudan Cannagrrh
Uthka Varzeekh – female Gvegh Vargr Unequal, eccentric and psionic seer with precognitive powers
Qithka01 Cannagrrh – female Gvegh Vargr, Relict Clone daughter and inheritor of the late Dame; her UPP card reads:

Qithka01 Cannagrrh
Knight of Regency of Deneb
UPP: 6DAACC-7X Female Gvegh Vargr
Relict Clone Inception: 57-1200, 2315 hours
Vincennes (DENE 1122), Regency of Deneb

Sorrlloutsun – male Aekhu Vargr, lawyer and Executor for the late Dame and Qithka01
Nurse Dhoer – female Aekhu Vargr, Qithka01’s Vargr nurse.
Dr. Kishe – female Vilani, cloning physician at Zirunkariish Healthcare
Dr. Sharuur – male Vilani, head cloning physician at Zirunkariish Healthcare
Capt. Zevikh Relltsou – female Gvegh Vargr, Captain of the Armed Junker Arrkolltsue

Esksa Relltsou – male Aekhu Vargr, Medic-Counsellor-Gunner, Zevikh’s mate-husband and panet to Dimamda

Dimamda Aardadlum – female Vilani, panet to Esksa and Chief Engineer aboard the Arrkolltsue
Kyle Stonecipher – male Terran Solomani, pilot and former SolSec Agent aboard the Arrkolltsue

Llirzdugzngaell Arr – male Gvegh Vargr, eldest aboard the Arrkolltsue, Engineer-Gunner and former Spacer of the Regency Quarantine Navy
Dhak Fursuth – male Gvegh Vargr, age 26, Engineer-Gunner, youngest crew of the Arrkolltsue
Capt. Voellzoen Cannagrrh – male Gvegh Vargr Equal, Dzen Aeng Kho Interstellar Navy commander stationed on the Quarantine Line to stop the spread of Virus into the Safe worlds of Gvurrdon Sector

Starships
Sixth Horizon – 200-ton Fast Far Scout Varian designed by Gevaudan Cannagrrh
Arrkolltsue – a 500-ton Khoghue-class Armed Junker of Vargr design.

Spacecraft
Takhs – 50-ton service Cutter attached to the Arrkolltsue, used in refueling and transfer to planet surface