Rote To Dzuerongvoe

[The Pakkrat]

* * *

Hew kept his paws busy. Working manually helped shut down his mind which was drained from the work of piloting. After walking cycles about the compartments and looking like a Marine on maneuvers, the Ursa finished his Day in the Makershop. With a fine grain auto grinder and the Ship's AI devotion of a Cell, Hew unfolded the metal fans he had made for the Vargr girl. Where before they were just metal slats, now they had laser etched images of twin wolf heads with Vargr expressions. Hew hoped that they did not look too wolf and not enough Vargr, but how was he to know? Finally came the scalpel-sharp edging on the distal end of each slat. Qithka had made that request. A pair of fans to dance by that would learn one a nick or three if not careful. (edited)

Open. Close. Snap open. Snap closed. When Hew was sure the fans opened and closed cleanly after his modifications, he lumbered out of the Makershop to present the pair to Qithka of the Odd Accent.

Hew sat down outside Qithka's Cabin door before pressing the call button. Tribal drum music volume was lowered to a vibratory thump before Qithka opened her door. She was panting. Seeing the two fans offered back to her, the Vargr girl's eyes widened. "A'ready? T'ank yew! pant, pant pant." Hew had to hold in his chuckle. Where did she come from? He watched the white-pelt ringtail girl open and close the fans and then scrutinize the engraved images. More of her accented Anglic came out with, "Kint wait t' dance wit deez!" The girl nodded her canine head at Hew before she ducked back inside her Stateroom.

She had been wearing close to nil and only remembered to turn down the music volume. Nope. Didn't see anything through those gossamer lingerie. Hew got to all-fours and turned in for the night at his Cabin at the far end of the portside crew row.

All of the Ag-consultants stared at Hew when he arrived for First Meal. Keeping quiet as Qithka and Dr. Zhem placed out the spread, he guessed that these Vargr had never seen an Ursa. Since his only possession was locked up in the Vault-Ship's Locker, Hew did not dress for the occasion. He waited until all were seated before he found space at the far end of the table from the Captain. But listening to the twins going on about their wedding, the Marine learned that the two identicals were to marry two male twins on Kha Ubakhe. With an olfactory sense as sensitive or better than Vargr, Hew figured that they would be able to identify each other by scent. Images on a portable computer were passed around the table. They displayed the wedding dresses and finery for the ceremony.

"Who will be marrying who?" asked the Captain.

One of the twins answered, "Because Kha Ubakhe is a sponsored beneficiary of Urrllongonu and part of the Agricultural conglomerate here in the margins, population projections are going to be lower, growth very slow."

The second twin cut in when her sister finished the lead-in explanation, "Both of us are marrying both of them. Though Kha Ubakhe is lower-tech, they found us a matching pair, skills and interests and the immigration laws say my sister and I can marry as many males as we wish. So, we chose these two to share with each other."

Hew saw the Human eyebrows rise on the Vilani woman. The answer surprised him too. Ursa were solitary most of their lives, choosing to work in groups only when a task or project needed such. This was news to his ears. Two Vargr ladies sharing two Vargr husbands in a-...quad? His imagination of the wedding ceremony took tacks that were interrupted by the uncovering of the First Meal main entre.

"Megasalmon," identified Hew as he caught that savory whiff of jumbo-sized salmon. (edited)

"Tot yew migh' like it," said Qithka in her odd Anglic accent that Hew still could not place in all the worlds he had visited. To him, Gvegh just did not talk like that. But he nodded to her. "Fer makin' th' fanz look pritty."

The male Ag-consultant next to Hew was shorter than a normal Gvegh and smelled of-...sniff...fur dye. He had changed his coloration through bleaches and then dyes. Was he in disguise or was it a cosmetic choice? Not like he could hide with all the noses at this table. Not his circus, not his monkeys. Hew dug into his megasalmon plate ringed with various vegetables. The slab of fish on his platter made him extra hungry.

About midway through this jump, Zhem the Cym came to Hew in the Makershop with a request. Would the Ursa use a buffer to shine up his Reflec Double Armor? With a new task and something to do with his paws, the Ursa nodded and used a Mechanics Toolkit to buff the outer plates on the robotic chassis. Some dirt spots, but the robot body was still new.

"Your file says you are rated in Robotics," said Zhem unmoving as if his body had shut down for the treatment.

"Aside Archaeology, it was my next interest," answered Hew as he ran the handheld buffer spinning over each plate. "Is this VLite Armor?" he asked the Cym. In his travels, Hew had seen other sophonts interacting with the meta-identities housed within systems or limited networks. This was his first encounter with a Cym inhabiting a Robot.

The two sophonts talked at length as Hew worked the buffer and ran a diagnosis inspection over the chassis. Zhem was not at all reluctant to discuss his specs to the Ursa, and this broke the ice since the pep talk Hew had received from the Cym.

"So, uh, where are you from, doc?" asked Hew as he cleaned buffing agent from the vision sensors of the robot head.

"To put it simply, I evolved my current code while on Regina long ago," answered the motionless Vargriform. "Before that I was more unrefined, shall we say?"

Hew knew that by law, Cyms were deemed sophonts and accorded all sophont rights and held accountable to laws governing both sophonts and artificial intelligence meta-identities. But he did not know how a Cym was a sophont.

When the Bear asked the Robot, the answer was, "How are Ursa sophonts?" It was less a question than a challenge to think deeper.

"We live, grow, reproduce and die," Hew attempted with an explanation.

"Cyms do the same," added Zhem. "When two Cyms meet, merge, compare code for errors or to offer improvements, we technically die from our old selves in adding or changing our code. Our outer forms mean little than functionality and interaction with biologicals. Two new Cyms are result, though we do keep our memories as long as we inhabit enough silicon that can hold them. Occasionally, we let memories compress or delete if no longer applicable or useful. I am told that memories are designed that way on purpose."

"But you're in a Robot now," pondered Hew aloud. "How do you have enough storage for that much memory?" It was a question that Hew knew as a roboticist though he was no programmer.

With the buffing complete and Zhem shining like a mirror to reflect the ship lighting, the chassis stood up to a full stance. From the ring of belt pouches came one of many Data Wafers. "I hold all my desired memories on Data Wafer storage, slotting as needed through the use of a File Allocation Table so I remember which partitioned subjects to slot. This one contains my memories as a Ship's Computer aboard a Republic Navy Cruiser, and all the Skills I had at that time. I don't slot it because I am living a new life as a Robot and Ship's Medic."

This Cym had accepted limits. With a reduced size and volume, the Vargriform before him could not hope to hold it all. Dr. Zhem had likely taken in some download to learn diagnosis and treatment, schooling that took years for biological sophonts.

It was like Wafer Technology, but without risking damage to Sanity. The memories were already Zhem's recordings and so were simply raw data recalled like one remembers their younger years. He simply had to slot them whenever and however long he needed them. An adaptation, but Hew knew it a vulnerability too. If anything happened to those Data Wafers...

Fifth Night saw the party skewed more to the Vargr Passengers and Qithka. By this Day, even the Gvegh Passengers were asking Hew about the adolescent Freightmaster. They too had noticed Qithka's strange accent. But answers were interrupted as Qithka played some music in a strange but enjoyable meter called 12/8 time.

"Dis dance I learnt from a gud friend name Zhevra," announced Qithka in Anglic. She stood in the center of the Commons, wearing her lilac unitard, the metal fans in her claws.

 

[The Pakkrat]

[Referee: cue music Natanel Arnson - A Hero will Rise]

"It jus' took me sum time a master interp dance, is all," finished the Vargr girl. She looked nervous though she took in breaths to open her lungs for dancing. Then the music began.

Hew sat in a corner. At his height while sitting, he was still taller than the seated Vargr and the Vilani here in the Commons. Reflective Zhem stood motionless in the adjacent dining area of the Galley to watch.

From what Hew Hollowton knew of interpretive dance, it was a way to tell a story through motion and gestures while making it look pleasing to the visual sense. The music was swaying and yet had a definite downbeat, one that spoke of folklore and history at the same time.

It was a story, Qithka's dance. She grew from a very low, fetal crouch into a short stance in motion as she looked about her and flicked the closed fans in swirls. The dancer then whirled to a taller stance with kicks and waves of her arms. As the music gained momentum with chorus measures called strains, the story in Qithka's motion progressed.

Vargr seated before Hew whispered and nodded approvingly at the performance.

Dance story continued until it became violent, fans open and slashing, flapping and waving. This strain was violent and yet held sorrow in Qithka's movements and paralanguage. There was a final leap through the air of the compartment as the white pelt fell to the floor in an almost prone crouch, the fans open and flat on the deck. The music finished and applause from the audience began. Hew followed suit by clapping his paws too out of courtesy. He did not make much of the story, but Qithka had been quite dexterous in Vargr range of motion.

Qithka rose while panting. This dance meant something to her, Hew decided. Was it more history than a tale of fiction? Snapping the fans closed, the dancer retreated so the Passengers could pursue other entertainments. Captain Gankinra conferred with the girl in the crew side of the Galley.

 

[The Pakkrat]

* * *

As she stood in Engineering, Qithka recalled those private words between Shaa Gankinra and her.

“That dance was beautiful, Qithka02 Cannagrrh,” said Shaa, knowing that saying her full name in the panting Vargr’s ear meant she was addressing the Relic Clone and all the Patterns inside her. “But you’re arousing questions in the Passengers, Qithka. Unless you want to tell your story again to perfect strangers, you are to enjoy breakout in Engineering.”

Still panting Qithka took the hint and nodded like a cub sent to sit in the corner for punishment.

Qithka now sat at the Operating Console in the Engineering compartment, cloistered away from the Passengers who knew her only as the ‘Freightmaster’.

“Confirmed breakout on Sensors,” announced the Captain over the intercom from SensOps-Astrogation. “Safe to open ports now. How is our fuel?”

Qithka’s ears perked from her scolding to answer in Gvegh, “Just under thirty-three percent, Captain.”

“Good,” remarked the Vilani woman. “We can take this skimming slower. Orbit 2, Size R Gas Giant with a minimum of zero-point-seven gees required.”

“Jump Drives on cooldown, Maneuver Drives online,” reported Qithka as her adolescent digit claws worked over the holographic controls.

From aft in Engineering, Qithka could feel the bumpy ride of entering the upper atmosphere of the second Gas Giant, one of the two smallest of the Kha Ubakhe world-system. Though not enough to rate as Turbulence, Qithka knew she could fly the Panas Gankinra better than Hew. But because the helm was the only Bridge position the Bear knew, his ursine tub was sitting in that acceleration couch more often while Qithka was put in the penalty box. Engineering was only Roomy enough to sit down, work the Operating Console and wiggle past the small Drives for cleaning, maintenance, or repairs. Tasks like refits would require a Starport.

With Zhem as the entertainer of Passengers per his rating in Steward, it was the Cym who distracted the Ag-consultants from the rough ride through the storms of this Gas Giant. Qithka had nothing to do but open scoops, bring the purifier online and report the increasing fuel status.

“Fifty percent,” called Qithka. Shaa had a valid point. Qithka could not go around putting her vast Skills gathered over her previous lives like it was something to be proud of, least of all in this era and out here in the margins beyond the Republic of Regina new to her. This was a different time. The Gvegh out here had a different accent. Linguistic drift had taken place over 700 years. And all it took was for one expert in genetics to point out her double ringtail to expose her.

In the Dzen Aeng Kho, the Third Imperium, the Regency, and now this Republic of Regina, there were interstellar laws and military forces to back up such laws. But now, entering the Wilds, the only actual law would be on the mainworlds of low-tech worlds and perhaps in-system of worlds TL-8+. No one would care what happens to a Gvegh teenager with a funny accent, even if it was 900 years old.

Though the route was largely familiar to Qithka’s memories, the stars still out there surrounded by planets and satellites, the Vargr Splinters was no more, not even pocket empires. Just simple, singular, likely pastoral and regressing mainworlds now called the Wilds awaited rediscovery. Who knew if anyone was out there still? Had Virus broken the Quarantine Line after her Pattern mother’s time? The Mind Tsunami had long passed her homeworld in Qithka01’s life. Any number of other catastrophes or violent conflicts could wreck Gvurrdon Sector in the period after her Pattern mother, a time the Library aboard the Safari Ship called the Interregnum after the Collapse. At first Qithka thought the Collapse simply referred to the Third Imperium, but no. It had expanded to all of Charted Space taking her homeworld with it into the darkness.

“Qithka, what’s our fuel status? You back there?”

“S-sorry, Bridge. Reading 97% now.”

But life had proven hard to quench completely. Frontier Wars, Civil Wars, Incursions from the Extents and the Aslan Hierate, Virus, the Wave; none had eradicated sophonts from Charted Space. Time heals everything. And some states like the Republic of Regina and the margins about it were still interstellar. There was the Flame again, rekindled in recovery.

“One-hundred percent, Captain.”

“Conclude skimming.”

Qithka closed the scoops and let the processors shut themselves down after a cleaning cycle lasting only a minute.

The Panas Gankinra pulled up and away from the Gas Giant, making for Kha Ubakhe mainworld. Qithka stayed on Engineering watch for the commute to Orbit 1. The M2 main sequence star was a large Red on a slow cook-down to Red Dwarf, joining the majority of the stellar classifications.

Hew Hollowton opened the door to Engineering and poked his ursine head in for an initial look. The Bear was not rated in Drives of any kind. He was a Marine. When he saw Qithka bored as she could be, he said, “Captain has piloting watch. I’m to bed. She said you had to cover Engineering, but you didn’t need to stay here. You do have your Portable, miss?” Ancients. Qithka could have sat in the Commons, the Galley, or her Cabin and done all this monotony to some music or writing or other entertainment. Shaa’s stern words had convinced assuming Qithka that she was put in a corner like a naughty cub.

“Did we have any traffic?” Qithka asked the Ursa.

“No,” answered Hew shaking his head as he began backing out on all-fours. “Tech-five world. Mass Production. Law-six says Shotguns only. My favorite.” Then the Bear retired toward the portside row of crew Cabins, his furthest from the crew Commons.

Law Level Six had been Gevaudan’s favorite too. The Pilot-Astrogator was famous in the Artemis Group for his Shotgun and undermount grenade launcher. He had called them two great tastes that go great together, as if firearms were ingredients to a meal. With Gev’s wide variety of ammunition types in both Shotgun and Grenade Launcher, the Senior Scout could find a load out for any confrontation.

Slinging her Portable Controller, Qithka slipped out of Engineering and down the corridor. “Panas,” she asked of the Ship’s AI. “Do I have access to the Ship’s Locker? Law Level Six means my .50cal cannot leave the ship.”

“Affirmative, Steward-Astrogator,” confirmed the Panas. “Now that the Captain has fully employed you, you may enter and access the Ship’s Locker.”

“Great. Let me go get my claw-cannon.”

Qithka purposely took her time in going to her Cabin. She re-checked the boards on her Portable Computer. All Green. Plucking the holstered Pistol from under her bunk pillow, she then took it to the Ship’s Locker which contained space in its compartment rear for the nested Mail Vault, a safe within a safe. When the door unlocked at Qithka’s biometric claw pads touch, Qithka stepped inside to see the pristine Ship’s Locker.

Extra Passenger Vaccsuits, some basic necessities, wrapped and sealed rations, water, all the expected basics of a Ship’s Locker. Bless the architects for ages of keeping up with all the known emergencies.

It was inside this initial entry that Qithka saw the Vilani weapon. Captain Shaa Gankinra’s Navy Officer’s Cutlass was mounted on the wall about the same height that Gevaudan had hung the Naval Cutlass of Captain Jacob Crow, a gift stored on the Sixth Horizon so very long ago. Zhevra Cannagrrh had traded that saber for Crow’s wooden Wand that Gev had made for him. The memories started to ache Qithka, so she went about finding a ready personal locker for her Accelerator Pistol.

Also present on a lower shelf was an impact plastic case with the emblem of the Mora Peacekeepers. The gun case belonged to Hew Hollowton then. It would not hurt just to have a look, right? A sophont’s weapon spoke volumes about its User, at least it did so to the Entertainer snoop known as the Dame.

With the Bear dead asleep by now, Qithka quietly popped the latches to the gun case. Inside it she found the biggest Shotgun she had ever beheld. It was bigger than Gevaudan’s rig. It was not Vargr make, but the forgotten manual tucked into the dense foam lining was readable in Anglic. Though rated in Slugthrowers thanks to her Pattern mother, Qithka02 was able to identify the Shotgun. But without the manual, she would not have guessed it was an Ultimate Vheavy Assault Shotgun made for Paws and at Portable mass of almost 9 kilograms. Who could fight with such a bulky, Burdensome weapon? Certainly not Gev even with his enhanced cybernetics. But a huge Brown Bear could.

At Tech 10, the Mora Peacekeepers Shotgun was described in the manual as a law enforcement weapon, thanking the buyer for the purchase and safe usage of the weapon. The array of ammunition on the stock, over the top of the firing chamber, and along its gun strap told Qithka that Hew meant to be stocked for long firefights. The trigger was huge and meant for his wide claw grip. For while Vargr had claws too, theirs were more akin to Human hands than the uplifted Bears. Qithka would need to be prone and have the stock backed up to a wall before she could ever pull this trigger. The rated warnings of High Recoil…

 

[The Pakkrat]

Then Qithka found the six Exemplary Service badges and Medals pinned to the foam lining. At most, it meant three terms in the Marines. At least, it measured out two very successful terms in service to the matriarchy there on Mora. The Bear had done his time in the armed forces. The weapon smelled used but also meticulously cleaned.

Qithka looked over her shoulder to confirm she was still alone in the Ship’s Locker. To add excuse to her presence there, she moved to place her Accelerator Pistol in a proper personal locker and noted its number just in case. But it was the Zirunkariish Healthcare and Insurance policy Exemplar Of Benefits or EOB that caught her eye. It was also tucked roughly into Hew’s gun case. The collared Bear, whatever he was found guilty of and exiled for, had a Life Insurance policy for a Relict Clone. If he died out here, Hew01 Hollowton would wake up in one of their facilities, his Relict Clone re-exiled upon confirmation of his death, reiteration, and a criminal background check.

Pity for the Bear welled up within Qithka02 Cannagrrh. Such pain had she endured as her Pattern mother after the death of the Dame and now again in the Far Far Future. Ancients, stop the cycle and protect this poor Bear from whatever Benefit he was sold on to agree to Life Insurance. Such pain.

Qithka reverently closed and latched the gun case. Closing the door to the Pistol locker, she made a stealthy retreat from the Ship’s Locker locking behind her exit.

After a four-hour sleep, Qithka joined Shaa Gankinra on the Bridge. The Vilani was finishing her watch at the helm. Out the forward viewport was Kha Ubakhe.

"Having trouble entering the atmosphere," reported Shaa. "Sensors please. Find the Downport. The Baked Lands are rising, hot atmosphere while the Frozen Lands has descending air with blizzards. The Visor is having trouble penetrating the fog of the Green Zone."

"Yes, ma'am," answered the refreshed Qithka. Good. No one had seen her peeking into Hollowton's gun case last night.

A few Sensor scans later, Qithka fed the results over to helm with the swipe of her claw in Shaa's direction. The familiar red circle and cross symbol indicating the Downport that the Passengers were naming Deepstream Canyon Downport rated D. That meant Shaa had to stick the landing.

Qithka knew that Twilight Zone worlds had a thin longitude band of liquid water, green lands with perpetual deserts and Baked Lands toward the star-side or Dayside, while the ice caps at the polar regions fed into the Frozen Lands toward the far side or Nightside of the mainworld. Tidally Locked to the bright Red main sequence stellar primary, the concepts of day and night were relative to the current cloud cover.

At Tech 5, Kha Ubakhe barely had rudimentary radio to finally answer Qithka's calls on frequencies easier for Deepstream Tower to answer. But eventually a scratchy signal welcomed the Panas Gankinra to a southern latitude landing field with sealed hangars lining one end of a few, crisscross runways for flyers.

"How can 700,000 sophonts, 90% Vargr maintain world Balkanization?" asked Shaa as she vectored the Safari Ship down through the thick clouds. She could perceive through the long latitude of perpetual fog, rain on the desert side and snow on the far side. It made for a bumpy ride through eternally inclement weather.

"Control of the Resources of course," said Qithka though it was truly the first guess that came to mind. "Rather than war or Infight, the rurals withhold Resources until they get what they want. The Downport holds the traffic monopoly off-world. Mines are sheltered from the elements and can stop raw ores flow. It's about the almighty credit, Captain."

"Let's hope that they come together for this Agricultural conglomerate we heard about. They could use more tech support." Shaa then touched down the Panas Gankinra, two then all four Landing Peds to the frosted airfield. To the east were the Frozen Lands. A bay of icebergs clogged the waters of the Great Canal running north-south, the Downport being at the southern terminus.

"Cold weather wear again, Captain," warned Qithka. "Shotguns only here as well."

"Let's throw chops at who gets to escort Mr. Hollowton's liberty after we unload."

The Vilani and the Vargr faced away and played Paper, Rock, Scissors by turning back toward each other.

Qithka soundly won the throw, but still offered to stand down the Bridge and Engineering since Shaa would have to buddy with Hew Hollowton. "Blades and natural weapons then, Qithka." Inwardly, Qithka recalled the Naval Cutlass in the Ship's Locker and imagined Shaa strapping on the Officer's blade in full view.

 

[The Pakkrat]

* * *

With Qithka doing double duty in standing down the stations and then offloading the Strange Motile Plants and the speculative Quality Flavored Drinks with Hew Hollowton outside in the frigid temperatures, Zhem was left to express thanks for journeying aboard the Panas Gankinra to the Middle Passengers. The Ag-consultants thanked the huge Vargriform but slipped gratuities to him, intended for the dancing Freightmaster with the strange accent. They waved to Qithka as they descended the parked wheeled truck with steps leading down from the Personnel Airlock.

In her Cloth-8 ship's uniform and covered in her Heavy Coat-2, Captain Gankinra appeared at the airlock. On her hip was a Navy Officer's Cutlass in a scabbard. But in her two fists was a heavy gun case. Zhem saw the Vilani descend the steps on the truck and lug the case over to the Ursa Hew Hollowton. With the Cym needed in Medical to awaken the Low Passengers, the Vargriform would be too distant to come to her aid if Hew turned on her.

Zhem was trapped. The Yellow light on Low Berth #1 meant he had to respond for the Passenger inside was marginal to death. Outside in the cold airfield winds, Qithka and Shaa were about to place Hew's weapon into his claws.

He could not rush the awakening. Even if he did successfully, there still was not enough time to activate his Burst Mode and rush outside to defend the Captain and Qithka.

Zhem was about to admit defeat. As he activated revival procedures for the Low Passengers, the ship's intercom spoke up with the voice of the Panas Gankinra AI. This was the only mode of direct communication allowed between a Cym-Robot and a Ship's Computer. Voice-only. Else, the volleying of an unlinked side terminal was the preferred choice. It was faster. The soft, Human female voice of the Panas addressed Zhem with, "Orders from the Captain: BuddySystem protocol, Captain Gankinra with Mr. Hollowton and Zhem with Steward-Astrogator Cannagrrh."

"There is no conflict outside on the deck?" asked Zhem in a Vargriform voice in fast-forward, knowing the AI could process any voice at buzzing fast or moaning slow speeds.

"Negative, Zhem," reported the AI. "Devoting one Cell to World Range Sensors. Sound Sensor confirms all three crew on deck and waiting for Downport bus. You are expected."

Thanks be to the silicon. Hew had not betrayed the Captain. Zhem could continue to revive the Low Passengers. Qithka and Shaa were safe.

Zhem saw the groggy and limping Low Passengers from the Safari Ship, down the truck steps and helped them onto the wheeled bus. He had to stand in the aisle as he was too big to sit down.

Just as the bus stopped at what amounted as a glorified airport terminal pretending to be a Downport D, Zhem risked a target lock on Hew seated. The Ursa was in the rear of the bus and had his nose fogging the closed window. His gun case rested across his ursine lap. Shaa winked at the Vargriform and mouthed words in Anglic.

Qithka had the curiosity. I had the insight. Today was Hew's lucky day.

Inside the Concourse of only two gates, the crew of the Panas Gankinra were witness to the welcoming of two Vargr brides by two Vargr grooms. And true to the twins' words, their suitors were also identical twins. Affections, thanks and much socialization ensued as the Passengers split off to conduct business. Zhem paired his chassis alongside Qithka dressed in her Mesh-7 and Heavy Coat-2. Today looked like any other day on Kha Ubakhe.

“Four-thousand credits Berthing fee,” complained Qithka as she led Zhem through the low-tech Downport. “For a D-rated port, the ground crews better be spot-on with the services, de-icing, security, and all the rest.”

“Will the Freight cover that?” asked Zhem. He had not been present when the ladies had signed for the delivery contract.

“Oh, yes, but it’s the principle of the thing,” continued Qithka. “In may d-, before now D-rated ports charged in the hundreds not thousands.”

“It may be an up-charge that will spur growth on Kha Ubakhe,” offered Zhem. “The locals may not be able to fund upgrades through taxation. Then there is the Balkanization our Passengers mentioned. This world is not acting as one entity but a fractured group of Factions.”

“Factions for 700,000 backwater sophonts most of which are Gvegh,” whined Qithka in her accented Gvegh birth language. “It’s highway robbery.”

“Are you going to challenge this exorbitant fee?” Zhem did not think the probabilities were in Qithka’s favor if she did try. He saw her ears flatten, her tail droop and her shoulders sag.

“You know I cannot,” mumbled Qithka. “I did not reiterate so well this time around. And I just don’t have it in me to fight for credits that aren’t out of my account.”

“Pick and choose your battles carefully, Qithka,” advised Zhem as the pair approached the Extrality Line in the form of a rolling fence gate guarded by several Vargr sentries. Displaying their UPP Cards, Qithka and Zhem were allowed to enter the adjacent Startown and seek out the nearest market center.

Though sealed in the rime of the southern polar region and cut into the nightside of the Green Zone of Kha Ubakhe, there was no lack of nightlife. All one needed to do for one’s off hours was take a ferry through the icebergs in the bay or ride on a commuter train to nightside and find a pub with an open seat. Without a rotating planet, it was up to the individual sophont to create daytime and nighttime for themselves per their schedule.

Miners walked the nightside streets in these hours soon to be followed by the Ag-crowd to keep Factions from mixing too much and developing bar fights, riots or other miscreant behaviors. Qithka knew from her past lives that too much interaction between Factions of any scope led to locals looking over the fence to see who had it unfairly better than they. The smell of dirty overalls and dusty pelts was the giveaway for the miners this hour. Ag-workers usually smelled of livestock while farmers had pesticides on their uniforms.

Workers worked on the dayside of the Green Zone and then commuted to the dusky nightside homes to eat and sleep. Families spent leisure time somewhere in the middle as the geography allowed. Dinner and non-alcoholic beverage for Qithka (damn her apparent age), told her of local news, the politicking Factions, the state of the Agricultural conglomerate and interstellar traffic. Coriolis effect rolled in precipitation along the Green Zone split by perpetual Red star shining in the west.

Though mobbed by the curious locals and buffered by Zhem who also attracted both the interested and the fearful, Qithka learned where the Deepstream Canyon markets were. Main Street they called it.

On a mainworld with only Tech 5 locals and dropping off the further one walked or commuted from the Downport, the pair entered Main Street to peddle the speculative Quality Flavored Drinks. Somewhere here were Shaa Gankinra and Hew Hollowton, paying Berthing and getting paid for the Freight.

Was it the gleaming Vargriform chassis? Could it have been the young, nubile Qithka advertising on Main Street? Was it the Quality Flavored Drinks out of Urrllongonu? All the above and the local desire for something other than plain water to drink caused the speculatives to sell out fast and at 400%. Shopkeepers, distributors, and Downport reps clamored to purchase a ton to tons of the beverages from Tech 9 Urrllongonu. Alcohol was already on hand. What was desired was refreshment for families and Packs, something for all. Was it going to calm the Factions? Perhaps not, calculated Zhem, but if they were willing to pay 400% on Cr7200 per ton was a substantial payout, maximized by the factors Zhem listed coming into Main Street. While the Strange Motile Plants Freight landed Cr16,000, the Middle Passengers Cr24,000, Low Passengers Cr4800; it was the Quality Flavored Beverages at 24 tons selling at a total of Cr691,200 that fattened the Wallet aboard the Panas Gankinra. Then it was time for Qithka to deduct her Broker Commission of 20% of the speculatives sale.

Zhem watched Qithka’s demeanor brighten. Today was her first big payout since being reiterated to her new life. “Cr138,240, Zhem! My first commission, and it hit 400%!” Her tail wagged its double rings for the rest of the Day.

“Congratulations, Qithka,” said Zhem following the Relict Clone back toward the Downport gate.

Inwardly, Zhem registered a 46% Pathos he labeled as proud of Qithka. The Counsellor in Zhem was beginning to see the Relict Clone rise above displacement depression often seen in case studies of sophonts revived after discovery in Low Berth cryo-sleep for longer periods than intended.

Walking back to the Downport, Zhem saw Qithka duck into a meat kabob vendor shop, a literal window with an awning opening from a kitchen and order a stick kabob forty centimeters long with onions and spicy peppers. The entire kabob was dipped into a vat of what was termed barbecue sauce. By the time the white-pelt had devoured the impaled chunks of meat, Qithka02 was a mess of sauce across her muzzle. Zhem had thoughtfully nabbed a manipulator full of napkins behind the happier Vargr.

 

[The Pakkrat]

* * *

Look west and be unlucky enough to have a bad angle or lack blockage such as mountains or cloud cover and a sophont can get dazzled easily by the Red main sequence star. Shaa did this more than a few times as she moved through the Startown to get paid for the Freight. She and Hew Hollowton had to trudge in the frost or take an insulated tractor bus further into town to find the Agricultural center which doubled as a town hall for the Agricultural Factions. After her third blinding, the Vilani woman pulled out her Cool Sunglasses-5 and fitted them over her eyes. So much better!

"Cool," rumbled Hew who was fazed only a little by the Cold mainworld so long as there were breaks inside vehicles or indoors. The Bear had slung his gun case openly on its shoulder strap transferable to the weapon directly if he chose. Shaa had only her Cutlass which was far sharper and of superior craftsmanship than the Knives, Blades and Swords she had seen worn by Vargr and the occasional Human.

When the spots in her eyes cooled down so she could see clearly again, Shaa finally noted that most of the locals looked down and to the ground when facing west, level when facing north or south, and wherever one wished when facing east to the nightside. The locals of Kha Ubakhe called it "western penitence", bowing one's head when facing the star. This practice was only upheld on the Green Band where dayside and nightside were both visible.

Though the local constabulary gave Vargr-eye at the Vilani and the Bear, none wanted to stop the pair. Hew was that physically intimidating for a sophont armed with a ranged weapon and whose mass could crush a ribcage with one rear-and-plunge of his massive claws.

Just after confirming her payment for the Freight, Shaa saw her credit account swell significantly. Qithka must have scored a very high percentage. "Let's go get something local to eat, in an insulated restaurant. You pick."

Hew opted for a restaurant that served hefty fish from the bay, a hardy Cold-water species that was heavy in protein and insulating fat. Seeing the dish, Shaa ordered hers well cooked. She recalled the old Vilani shugili tradition: it isn't a meal unless it's fully cooked.

By the end of the Day of trading and commuting though the Startown, the crew of the Panas Gankinra reunited at the Downport Concourse. Uncharacteristic of an 18-year-old bicentenarian, Qithka came running to hug her Captain. She too was wearing her Cool Sunglasses-5 in protection from the western glare. The adolescent body wrapped her arms about Shaa who as a mother and grandmother returned the embrace.

"400 percent, Shaa!" panted Qithka in her Gvegh as the hugging continued. "My first!" she said though Shaa caught Qithka omitting mention of her previous lives in the open company. (edited)

"Congratulations, Qithka," nodded Shaa who stood taller than the Gvegh Vargr still holding her beyond a normal hug. She must really need tactile contact. Allowing such public display of excited affection, Shaa added, "How charismatic do you feel now, hmm?" It was a challenge, to get Qithka to think on her self-image while influencing the adolescent arms to let go of Granny Shaa.

[Referee: cue music Tom Bergersen - So Small]

 

[The Pakkrat]

The Cool Sunglasses slid down Qithka's muzzle bridge as she dipped her nose down. The jaw fell open in surprise. The tongue fell out in a silly lolling to one side. Ocean blue eyes focused on Shaa while widening. Pupils dilated a little. Shaa thought she saw stars in the Vargr's eyes at the subtle mention of Charisma. For Shaa knew that Vargr hung self-image on every success and every failure for which they were personally responsible. "Ancients! You're right. I do feel better! I have been walking about in a dismal dark place ever since waking-...since coming to Pandrin." She almost slipped again. Qithka seemed to do that, as if she were fighting two others of herself competing for control of her mouth and voice.

​

"You should adjust your UPP Card, Qithka," suggested Shaa. "You earned it."

"Thank-you-thank-you-thank-you!" panted the Vargr below Shaa. The grandmother simply smiled a Human smile at Qithka.

First was Qithka up the steps and into the Safari Ship and followed by lumbering Hew Hollowton. Shaa felt herself stopped by a gentle grasp of the Vargriform bringing up the rear. Zhem said in a voice for her alone, "That was a very therapeutic thing you just did. Thank you, Captain."

"A Captain looks after her crew," nodded Shaa. Then the Vilani and the Cym climbed the truck steps up to the airlock.

 

[The Pakkrat]

* * *

Hew was first present to the meeting called by Capt. Gankinra. He sat on the floor at the dining table with his gun case atop and opened. The Marine inspected, broke down, and cleaned his weapon as the other two ladies and the Cym gathered in the Commons. As he worked, he listened to the Vilani speak.

Shaa stood as if she were addressing Naval ratings and began with, “Crew, we are about to step off, into the deep end. Some of us want to go into the Wilds. Some of us need to go into the Wilds. And some of us must go into the Wilds. I myself am from the Wilds trailing of the Republic of Regina. Mr. Hollowton is from the rimward edge of the Republic. Miss Cannagrrh’s homeworld is deep in the Wilds and she is returning there. That is our target system. This ship is hired to map what is out there. We have very little, outdated data on each remaining nine jumps. The goal is to scan systems, orbital survey mainworlds, scout any remnant Starports, get a general census, and fill out a Universal World Profile and extension as close as we can. We know where the stars are and have quite a few names out of the past. We need ratings on Starport, Population, Government, Law Level, Tech Level and then we can extrapolate the UWP extension. The pay is handsome, medical covered, repairs covered IF we make it back to the Republic.”

“The Wilds are dangerous. We don’t know what happened out there after the Collapse and through the Interregnum. It’s history lost to this Pastoral Age. You’ve heard the saying, ‘The Wilds are not worth it’. Remnants of the two Breaks might still be out there. We will need to be on our toes about the aftermath of each. Watch what you say to locals. Watch what you do in front of them. Fear for them is engraved on the dinner plate. We need to be the best diplomats we can be. No exploitation, no invasion, no abductions. We might find some barter, but Passengers will not be possible except in emergencies.”

“I have Size, Atmosphere, Hydrosphere of each world on the route thanks to some very old sources. Those same sources have confirmed Gas Giants in all but one world-system where we may have to land and intake water. The Panas Gankinra has Intakes and an Intake Purifier for just such emergencies. Wilderness refueling will be standard unless the locals are capable and friendly.”

“A word about self-defense. There are only four of us and however many of them. If we have to kill to survive, do so. Knocking off a few crazed or xenophobic locals will not scratch the surface of their Population. If one of us dies, the mission is jeopardized. This is why I have unlocked the Ship’s Locker and made weapons available. Each jump means a possible bogey. Each landing could spell an assault by ground forces waving pitchforks and torches. Everyone is to be armed and armored, including our Security Bear. Mr. Hollowton will see to being measured for an armor he feels safe. Trade happens after a full system, mainworld and port survey and only after peaceful contact is made. Not before.”

Shaa then fell to a parade rest stance from her at-attention announcements. She then asked, “Any questions?”

“Yeah,” said Hew who looked up from his cleaned and assembled Peacekeeper Shotgun. “When does this collar come off? I’m an Ursa, not some ship’s pet. And I expect to get paid since I’ve been through two jumps, Security and Damage Control you said.”

“You will be a free Ursa, Mr. Hollowton upon breakout at-…” Shaa checked her Portable Controller for a name. “…at Aethkaek (Gvurrdon 1933), our next world-system. From breakout, the collar comes off and you start earning a monthly pay per Vilani Starship Operations. Miss Cannagrrh was just hired when we broke out in Urrllongonu as our Steward-Astrogator. Dr. Zhem is our paid Medic-Counsellor-Gunner and IT specialist. You, Mr. Hollowton are his medic of sorts. Without Passengers, Qithka’s role will default to Engineer-Astrogator-SensOps when I’m not filling in for any of you.”

Qithka risked a claw held up as if she were a student in a classroom. She asked in her accented Anglic, “Life Suppo’t. Kin we affo’d goin’ this dep?”

Capt. Gankinra nodded to the question. It was valid. She answered, “With the recent success of our trade here on Kha Ubakhe, we can purchase extra filters, stuff stores into Passenger Staterooms, hoard other needs like spare parts in the cargo hold. Anything we can use; we buy whenever and wherever we can. The mission of this vessel will become Exploration over Trade and Commerce. We land, scout about, and then we can see about barter or trade if the locals still use monetary denominations.”

Hew thought that the Cym-Robot might ask a question, but then Cyms seemed to know more about any topic. That or they could learn it on their own research if they became curious enough. The Vargriform stood motionless though it was watching and listening, possibly even recording.

“If there are no further questions,” concluded Shaa Gankinra, “then tomorrow we conduct Trade and Commerce for the things we will need on this Exploration mission. Speculatives only and keep whatever you buy low-tech enough so as to be usable by the next world over. Dismissed.” The Vilani woman had come to attention again and let the crew go to their duties. Hew closed his gun case. He would need more ammunition.

 

[The Pakkrat]

* * *

The next Day on Kha Ubakhe saw the Panas Gankinra being packed full of essentials for its mission. Though Qithka found the mainworld full of Imbalance Bulk Ices, as if she could not guess that looking at the planet, it was Shaa who did her better. The Vilani ex-Merchant found Imbalance Recordings gathered not only from a Rich world but also a Fluid world. The Recordings were on media applicable to Tech 5 Kha Ubakhe but had not sold for some reason. Qithka had to agree that bringing some enjoyable culture further into Gvurrdon Sector would be more welcome than Merchants trying to peddle Ice to Water worlds. And from her memories, Qithka had made note that Aethkaek was one such Water world. Bulk Ices would be laughable coming from the sky raft from the stars to locals. But recordings…

Qithka and the crew purchased ammunition for their weapons. At Tech 5, the mainworld had plenty of slugthrower types. Into the Ship’s Locker were stacked ammo boxes for everyone. She wanted to encourage Zhem to arm himself, but she also knew that the Vargriform could do just as well in Claw Art if push came to shove.

Extra food, extra atmosphere filters, spare parts, fresher amenities, toiletries, and a variety of goods purchased from the Startown were shoved, packed into unused Staterooms. Then the cabin pressures and atmospheres were changed to better store the goods for preservation. Qithka went down lists once, twice, a third time with Capt. Gankinra, another with the Ursa Hew, and a final time with Zhem who reminded her to include medical supplies.

Qithka ejected the pleasantries of Passenger entertainments, periodicals, books and other distractions a Steward usually brought to bear to ease space travel. In trays, cubbies, storage bins went the purchases, packing every possible volume of space. But Shaa Gankinra drew the line when the Vargr wanted to secret away goods in the interstitial spaces between deck plates. Fire hazard was the reason.



“Doc! My neck-“ called Hew Hollowton who passed Qithka packing the Commons with awkward Burden items. The rumbling deep voice in Anglic was accented to her as hers must be to him, but also in his Ursa morphology. He had a better grasp of today’s Anglic since Ursa were closer to Terran languages than Qithka who hailed from Dzuerongvoe now two subsectors distant into Gvurrdon Sector. Qithka watched as Zhem strode from the overpacked Clinic to grasp and adjust Hew’s collared neck with what looked like a choke submission hold. A quick jerk followed by a series of sounds that were painfully sympathetic to Qithka, and the Bear was relaxed again, a look of sated relief come over his ursine face.

“Qithka,” said Shaa who approached the Vargr working in the Commons. Qithka rose to relaxed stance after sliding flat spare plates of worked armor under the couches. The Vilani woman then said, “I want Cautious Astrogation from here on out. We are in no rush, no timetables, no showboating. Get me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” nodded Qithka. With no Passengers and no Freight contracts, arriving at a destination early would not garner gratuities.

“And no Portable Controller pathing either. Aim for the star not where you remember the mainworld. Take no chances.”

“Yes ma’am,” repeated Qithka.

“Before I forget,” added the Captain, “Take the same extra time with the Sensors, especially on the surveys. We need to be exact on the cartography and the census at each mainworld. Inaccuracies will muddle the UWP extensions.”

“Yes, ma’am,” acknowledged Qithka a third time.

The entire time she was receiving orders, Qithka saw Hew making trips to and from his crew Cabin. The Ursa was waddling on two legs with his claws filled with bottle after bottle after bottle of booze, enough to put down a Bear. The Vargr could hold in her laughter, but only so long. But as a favor unasked for, Qithka held the Captain’s attention with questions of where to stow this or where to put that. And still the Ursa stocked his Cabin full of hard liquors. The Dame inside the young Relict Clone applauded Hew Hollowton. One or more good, stiff drinks before stepping off into the Wilds was just the thing. Now to make Hew pay her back by contributing to the alcoholic delinquency of a teenager.

 

[The Pakkrat]

* * *

On the third Day, the last before lifting from Kha Ubakhe, a large crowd of locals including a foursome of newlyweds gathered in the Concourse. There were no other ships on the airfield and all of the aerospace planes were yet to warm up for air traffic. They came in busses, large vans, tracked snow crawlers and fast snowmobiles. The local Vargr of Deepstream Canyon took a day off from work to watch the takeoff and lift of the now-known Panas Gankinra. Word through the Startown and cold suburbs had spread. The only starship in a quarter year was about to depart. At Tech 5, Zhem calculated that this was a novelty to watch.

The gates windows were lined with Vargr fogging the glass, jockeying for a good view, and generally clogging up normal Passengers and staff thoroughfares. The crew of the Safari Ship had purchased many different items for their ship before turning in a hard copy schedule to the Tower. The ground radio antenna was on the fritz again.

[Referee: cue music The Who - Baba O’Riley]

Three Days on the frozen tarmac had not done the Drives any favors. Qithka had to try a second time to bring online the Power Plant. With the Captain at SensOps and taking passive Sensors readings of aerospace, orbit and far orbit and finding nothing but an open window for lift, she forgot to check with the weather service. The ice storm that blew in made Hew Hollowton look like a simian in heat was at the helm Control Console. Zhem was torn in calculation as to which station he would walk to and offer any aid.

The Panas Gankinra, when the Drives finally flared to life with a glowing Maneuver Drive plate sending a glittering blue glow across the frosted tarmac, finally lifted off the ground. The landing Peds shattered the ice that had accumulated around them, spilling shards to the airfield. With buffeting winds and snow piling on the forward transpex, Hew had to fly Nap Of Planet down the runway, a spectacle for the audience on the ground. Like an airplane taking off, the Ursa finally shed the accumulation from the hull so he could pull back on the grips and curve up to ninety degrees, perpendicular to the planetary surface.

Though Zhem expected an intercom dressing down from Shaa Gankinra for the unorthodox lift-off, a round of laughter at the humorous departure escaped from the Human, infectiously spreading to Hew who chuckled, and finally to Qithka who entered the Bridge to snicker at the entire ordeal. Zhem wanted to laugh too, so he watched Qithka and tried a variant of Vargr laughter. The sight of the Cym laughing only amplified the humorous moment as the Safari Ship rose into the ionosphere.

Zhem stood on the Bridge but out of the way as Qithka spent three hours at SensOps-Astrogation to run the numbers for Aethkaek (Gvurrdon 1933). Captain Gankinra went aft to reset herself from the laughter. She was to engage the Jump Drives after 5.425 hours to 70D when it was earliest and safest for the Panas Gankinra to jump.

“I think I’m going the wrong direction,” chuckled Hew. With a swipe of his claws to invert the Visor path given him by Shaa, the Ursa then wheeled the Safari Ship about to the true heading for the jump point. Laughter again. The mistake cost the crew at most an hour. For Zhem, the Cym could not catch the draw into more laughter now that he had the proper motions and Vargriform giggling mastered.

“Don’ make me laff,” snickered Qithka while trying to path for the interstellar jump. “It hurts.”

“That has got to be the most slapstick take-off I’ve seen,” chuckled Hew who wiped his teary eyes with a forepaw.

“That’s it,” laughed Qithka in Gvegh. “Panas, take your Day to confirm my pathing please.”

“Compliance. Devoting one Cell to Astrogation confirmation.”

Zhem followed Qithka off the Bridge, exchanging again with Shaa who had her Portable Controller with her so she could sit at SensOps-Astrogation and still have the Engineering boards on her lap via the Portable. It was time for Qithka to take a Vargr sleep so she could relieve the Bear and the Human later.

Over the wait for the pathing confirmation, the lift from Kha Ubakhe became a run-on joke amid the crew. At dinner prepared by refreshed Qithka, Hew waggled his paw just above the table, suggesting the haphazard NOP taxi he had taken. It spurred more giggles, snickers and laughter as plates were set out. Shaa was never going to live this down as the commander of the Panas that day. She could only estimate how many locals had seen such a befouled takeoff.

Zhem was glad that the laughter was developing experiences, shared events that built teams and camaraderie. His Counsellor Hobby made note to watch the crew of the Panas Gankinra in the coming jumps. Though the Comfort rating of the Safari Ship empty of Passenger was through the roof, as the Ship’s Medic, he needed to be vigilant.

 

[The Pakkrat]

* * *

Contrasting the takeoff and commute to the jump point, Hew felt the actual transit to Jump Space was textbook though how he could not say. Once the Panas Gankinra was confirmed out back, the girl Qithka mysteriously offered to stand down the Bridge. Fine by Hew. He had a date with Jack Daniels in his Cabin. Now, the Ursa sat on the floor of his Cabin and took straight shots of whiskey as he looked a map of the region “behind the claw”. Goodbye and good riddance. Then he tossed his first shot glass back.

With his back to his door, Hew had to twist his torso to look at who was mashing the buzzer. Good. Not the Captain. Instead, it was the Vargr girl Qithka. “S’open!” he called. Qithka entered with what looked like a used Big-Chug, one of those liter, plastic soda mugs sold in Starport franchises. She looked like she was sneaking into the Marines barracks for the lucky Corporal of the squad. As an Ursa, Hew was not going down that track again. But he let her join him by sitting at his terminal chair.

“Care t’ share?” Qithka asked. “I dist’acted the Captain for yew.”

“I don’t normally let minors drink,” Hew tried to say as he tossed back his second shot after pouring.

“I’m no’ a young a I look,” said the Vargr, though Hew doubted it. She had to be what - eighteen, maybe nineteen? Just what was the adolescent Life Stage of a Gvegh Vargr anyway?

“Just a little then, youngster,” allowed Hew guarding the rest of the fifth in his claws. He donated to her Big-Chug and then held the bottle just in case the girl could drink like a fish.

“T'anks,” nodded Qithka. “Won’ tell if’n you won’.”

“You’re going home, huh?” Hew asked, looking for something to talk about as host to this little tea party. “What was the name of the system again?”

“Dzuerongvoe,” said Qithka who took careful sips of her Big-Chug through a Vargr straw. “Gvurrdon 1413, eight mor’ jumps aft dis one.”

“Tell me about it,” offered Hew. Maybe keeping her talking meant less drinking his booze.

The Vargr girl grew a distant look on her canine face, the eyes focusing on the distance. Then she spoke descriptive, even in her odd accent. A Blue Dwarf main sequence primary with a Near Orange Dwarf main sequence rose over the horizon, one right after another. Not Hot, not Cold. Goldilocks Orbit. Two Giants, two belts, and six other planets. A smile grew on her muzzle. The girl Vargr wanted badly to go home.

“Stan’art atmo, ease t’ breathe,” described Qithka. “Pak Cannagrrh has a estate in th' nort'ern 'emisphere where we grow fer lagers an' wine. We 'unt in th' mountains and th' Sout' Woods season'lly. Fortee persent hydro mean plent’ o’ beechfront. Hi-Pop t’ough. Was the Capital of the Dzen Aeng Kho more den once…accordin' t' th' ‘istory books, I mean.” Those ocean blue eyes looked up to Hew. Yeah. No more drink for this one.

“Yew’d hate it mabe,” added Qithka wanting to keep up her descriptive momentum. “No Shotguns allowt . Bugged me brot’er tew.”

“Sounds beautiful,” nodded Hew. “Think they’d let a guy like me in, if it’s as good as you say?”

“I shud ‘ope so,” Qithka said with glazing eyes distant.

Hew scratched an itch under his prisoner’s collar just as the reactor of heat warmed his belly. Though the squad Pigman, Hew had never been the heavy hitter of the platoon. More memories of Mora Peacekeeper Marines…

The twin-ringed tail stopped as Qithka looked back to Hew. Calmer now that this Vargr was not going to try any moves before he was too far gone, Hew relaxed and poured his third. “Wha’ ‘appened, Hew?” Those ocean blues dropped to the heavy band about his neck.

Buzzed enough not to care anymore now that he was on a one-way through the outback to the Wilds, Hew said, “That’s adult stuff you can’t un-hear, little girl. You sure you want to part that curtain?”

* * *

For Qithka, with the Dame driving the carousing action and helped with a little Liquid Confessor, the younger aspect of the Vargr before the brown ursine had pried open a vault that had holovid censors on the front cover. Like a child breaking into the forbidden library, Qithka nodded to Hew Hollowton. If it was bad enough and the Ursa let it all out to the interview, Qithka thought there was enough time out back that she could reciprocate. It was only fair, save that Hew had cut off a minor from more whiskey.

Though the field correspondent Dame sensed there was more to the story, she sat attentive as Hew spilled his guts in his telling. He had killed a disguised Solomani woman, an Agent of the Republic, in bed, in the act, and with the Mora cops busting down the door. She could predict the maelstrom of a story on the news before Hew reached the trial. The politics, racial taboo, Ursa hatred for the revealed Solomani-born woman, and the fallout between grudge-filled Mora and the Republic of Regina. Qithka forced herself to remain in the Dame’s shadow, the objective journalist interview of the trial defendant. And the matriarchy had let the trial be holovised too!

Just as Qithka would if she were telling her story, she detected some omitting. Hew knew more than even the whiskey could unlock. But the journalist did not pry. Let the Bear gush what he wanted. The entire fiasco was an accident of passion, a cultural shunning, a racial ostracism, and branding of a traitor to the state. Wrong place, wrong time and wrong decisions.

“…so do yourself a favor, little Vargr girl,” directed Hew Hollowton. “Stay the hell way from males. We’re pigs. Don’t go on dates without a safe-call buddy. Don’t get frisky on the first, second, or third date. And don-…” Hew passed out cold on the cool deck. His mass was so big that Qithka had to leave him there to sleep it off. And he fell over forward, covering the opened bottle, dammit.

Though she felt bad for the Ursa snoring loudly in his Cabin, Qithka found she was not the only hard-luck case aboard. Everybody has a tale to tell. The Dame in the Relict Clone wondered what would come from Shaa Gankinra’s skeleton closet. What bones had the Vilani buried to dare the Wilds?

 

[The Pakkrat]

* * *

The Naval armada engagement coupled with a hot LZ Marines drop hangover raging in Hew’s head was nothing compared to the damage control he had to cover at the end of jump. Everything was fine, the Vargr girl remembering more than he, to learn that Hew had only passed out on the floor that night. Qithka did not make off with his opened bottle of whiskey.

What did come of jump transit was that not one but two Consoles failed to respond upon breakout. Though Capt. Gankinra on Sensors confirmed a return from out back, the helm would not respond AND Qithka was unable to do much more in Engineering than let the Jump Drive go on cooldown. She was unable to bring the Maneuver Drive online. Motionless sat the Panas Gankinra, in Aethkaek world-system, nobody around on Sensors to call for help.

The unresponsive helm was easy to diagnose. An Easy fix. Unplug, replace, plug in replacement. Done, yeah. Qithka sat in the corner of Engineering working from her Portable Controller as if leaving the compartment might break the Portable in addition to the Operating Console there. That Diagnosis took both Hew and Qithka searching all Day for the problem.

“How much longer?” called the Captain. “We’re still sitting at 103D from the Aethkaek primary. I’ve got Stealth up and we’re lying doggo.”

“Can we default to the HEPlaR Drive?” Hew asked Qithka working the laptop device.

“Surein’, if’n we wan’ look like a emergency marker flare,” answered the ringtail.

“Haven’t they seen our Jump Flash?”

“Ya, if’n anyone home an’ dey lookin’.”

Hew had his nose poked into the Operating Console, searching with a penlight from the Electronics Toolkit. “Did we uh, y’know, do anything untoward? I only remember pouring the brain nukes that night.”

“Nah,” answered Qithka confidently. “Yew ate the’ dek and tha’ were all.”

“Oh. Good.”

Then the Maneuver Drive activated to the happy squeal of Qithka. She had made the changeover with the Portable Controller.

"Emm Drive up, Cap'n!" called the Vargr in Anglic.

"Taking the helm for commute. Stay on those repairs, Hollowton. Qithka, keep helping him."

"Aye, Captain," answered Hew.

"Ya, ma'm," added Qithka.

Six more hours flew by before both Ursa and Vargr spotted the problem. Hew was a smelly mess by the time he miraculously repaired the faulty, tiny silicon board. The Operating Console flared to life, booted up and began projecting boards again.

"Thank yew, Hew!" yelped Qithka. "Go pilot. I pik up for yew." The Ursa trudged all-fours to the Bridge to continue the mainworld approach as the Captain surveyed the system with the Sensors.

 

[The Pakkrat]

* * *

Qithka cleaned up the tools, broken parts, and straightened the Roomy Engineering compartment before linking her Portable Controller to echo Shaa's work on the Sensors. Curiosity wanted to confirm what her previous lives remembered of Aethkaek.

The Space Range Sensors data filled Orbits as it was confirmed. Qithka watched the Portable while keeping an eye on the repaired Engineering boards.

The Panas Gankinra had returned from the outback just outside empty Orbit 2, pulled from jump by the G4V main sequence primary. The Yellow star looked welcoming if a little bright. The mainworld was ahead in Orbit 3, the ship already on far orbital approach. Qithka was right. Aethkaek was still a Water world covered in hydrosphere.

"Gas Giant in Orbit 6 is too far," declared Shaa. We refuel in the drink. The Panas floats but doesn't dive. Everybody can swim?"

"Aye."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I have an integral Lifter, yes." The last was from Zhem also on the Bridge.

Aethkaek had one rocky moon lacking air and only rubble structures centuries picked clean.

"No traffic and no ATC beacon or Tower signals," reported Shaa.

"Tech 5 radio detected," announced the Panas AI. Shaa must have assigned a Cell to World Range Sensors as she worked to map the system. A secondary system about a M3V Red sat Far in Orbit 16, practically a microjump distant.

Qithka could not help herself. Using her two index digit claws, she zoomed in on the data for the Inner Planets. The Twilight Zone in Orbit 0 should have been Baked to a crisp but for that Green Band shadowed by a tall Precipice on the dayside of the longitude. The tall, tectonic displacement had dropped the Green Band and subsequent Frozen Lands into cooler shadows. Flora capable of low-light or shadowed growth began as conifers on the nightside of the livable longitude, the hardier, lower-light flora living closer to the plateau towering high above in the west. With some huge, heat resistant mirrors, Qithka believed light might be redirected in diurnal, swiveling cycles to create day and night along the Green Band. Then a remnant and inactive Spaceport F was found amid the Green Band overgrowth. The Twilight Zone world had once been colonized. The cavernous warrens burrowed into the western Precipice wall near its base looked to be underground Town slightly upslope from the usurped Spaceport.

The Cold Hospitable in Orbit 4 was on the far end of the Habitable Zone, but was capable of sustaining life at the equator, the warmest latitude. A remnant Spaceport there looked cloistered away. Could it have been a secret Corsair Base in antiquity? Two full planets beside the mainworld showed colonization opportunities if conditions improved for the radio users down on the Water world below.

“Mind your boards, Qithka,” warned Shaa. “I see you taking peeks, Engineer.”

“Sorry!” Qithka answered then checking her gauges. “All Green for reentry.”

“Call the ball, Pilot,” ordered Shaa. “What looks like a Downport C is now on your Visor, targeted and locked.”

Single engine biplanes swarmed the Panas Gankinra as Qithka heard Shaa speaking in Gvegh to pilots over Tech 5 frequencies. “No, I don’t have an appointment. We see your waterways, but a flagger would be nice to show us a pier off a carrier. Yes, I can wait but not all Day. Get me?”

Peeking through the World Sensors Scopes and every targeted biplane defending the seagoing Downport Carrier, a massive watercraft that looked a cross between two side-by-side supertankers topped with takeoff and landing runways. The massive thing was inefficient for an oversized catamaran the shape of tanker hulls.

A flare shot up into the sky so that Shaa could zoom the Scopes down to the single Vargr on a swing arm pier. The Gvegh on the rotating arm began waving down the descending starship as if it were a biplane. “No, we don’t need a runway. This ship floats. We can settle in the waters and tie off to your carrier. Tell that runt to quit panicking.”

Easy enough for a floating Safari Ship, Hew Hollowton eased the Panas Gankinra into the waters. Qithka keyed the Floatation Hull ballasts to fill with exhaust helium lending the entire starship buoyancy. With subtle bursts from the blue Maneuver Drive, a wide wake behind the ship followed the ship to tie off to the extended and locked pier on the aft of the supercarrier Downport. Biplanes continued to buzz and circle overhead. There was an air of alert status to the locals.

Zhem opened the airlock and walked forward along the dorsal armor, his body gleaming in the G4V sunshine. He caught the thick anchor line and tied of the Panas Gankinra in three points, nose and each wingtip. The supercarrier then easily towed the 200-ton starship behind its churning underwater propellers.

Several power adapters for Tech 5 generators had to be tried until one managed to fit snug as an umbilical power line. Once Qithka saw that the “Downport” was supplying enough electrical power, she put the Power Plant on Low Mode. “Beginning Intake procedures. Intakes open and Intake Purifiers online. Hours until processed and 100% tanks, Captain.”

“Acknowledged,” answered Shaa. “Zhem, back down. These locals seem frightened of Battle Dress or a Robot. Bring your chassis back inside.”

It was Qithka who had to make contact with what amounted as a Downport Warden, a supercarrier Liaison Officer in a teal uniform. Trained in Diplomat and Liaison as well as Admin, the only true Vargr aboard the Panas Gankinra stood on the forward dorsal armor and was supported by Zhem behind her. Ocean stretched to the horizon this bright Day with puffy cumulus clouds dotting the skies.

Faces in every porthole in the towers, above the waterline and on the airfield deck high above the calm waves were staring at Zhem as Qithka spoke with and greeted the Liaison Officer. Declaring her intent to trade, refuel and depart disarmed the alert status of the locals. A green flag waved by the Liaison and Qithka doing claw gestures through the forward transpex viewport of the starship signaled all-clear. Somewhere, some bean counter was calculating the Berthing bill.

Here and there, some closer and others further to sea was the guardian flotilla of this catamaran supercarrier. Airfield decks joined the two tanker hulls, creating a small Town on the high seas.

Though the mainworld had whorls of green, photic shallows, Qithka knew that this kind of sea vessel had to stick to the deeps, sending smaller classes among the reefs for aquaculture yields.

"Two-thousand in their seabacks is the bill, Captain," reported Qithka after negotiating for permission to come aboard the floating, multilevel Town on the waves. "From what they describe, they can conduct repairs, but only up to a certain rating of damage diagnosis and limited to Tech 5."

"Liberty for all, but BuddySystem," ordered Shaa. "Their RO says we can carry weapons. Zhem with me and Hollowton with Qithka in the lead."

Changing to a more buoyant Cloth-8 armor and lifeline tethered between her and Hew, Qithka clipped her Lesler-Kahlan .50cal Vheavy Accelerator Pistol to her belt in the small of her back. The tether rope encircled her abdomen while Hew walking on all-fours, Peacekeeper Shotgun slung, wore his end of the lifeline about his upper chest.

This mainworld had never seen an Ursa before the Collapse and subsequent Interregnum. Questions spewed from officers of the watches, "Is your pet trained in that firearm?"

 

[The Pakkrat]

Hew rumbled his insulted voice at the Gvegh officer. "Yes, I can take your tail off from the horizon if I want. Show some sophont respect." The deep, Standard voice of the Ursa scared the Charisma out of the officer. Very soon after that, another watch officer replaced the first.

Trade operations began. The crew of the Panas Gankinra had to try and sell the Imbalance Recordings if they wanted any seabacks to pay the Berthing bill of Cr2000. Qithka doubted the locals of Aethkaek took credits, cash or electronic.

Because half the cargo hold was packed to the ceiling with spare parts and replacements, Qithka sold only 20 tons of Rich Fluid Imbalance Recordings at a desirous 150% for a total of Sb140,000, plenty of seabacks to pay Berthing, restock with fish, (at the insistence of Hew nosing Qithka from behind like a hungry pet). The two celebrated with Shaa and Zhem at a restaurant directly next to the fish market. Slabs of supergrouper wrapped in salty seaweed was the fare. Qithka liked the dried spices harvested from the photic zone reefs. Shaa enjoyed a platter of cephalopod tentacles.

"This world is Rich too?" asked Shaa. When an Imbalance label matches the sale destination's Trade Imbalance, the price rises out of commonality. The locals wanted recordings from off-world for novelty, for entertainment, for education and for simply passing the time. Before the Day was out, loudspeakers on many supercarrier decks were playing music from off-world.

Five interested supercarrier Marines approached the crew of the Panas Gankinra. The Gvegh were led by a Marine Captain and his subordinates of lower Charisma trailed behind him. He asked about the Bear. Then the Captain asked about the Vargr in the tall metal armor. Interested, Qithka was able to read the airs. The locals thought Zhem was a Vargr wearing Oversize Battle Dress of some kind. She took aside the Captain as the others ate dinner. As Zhevra Cannagrrh had done so many centuries before today, Qithka managed to get across what a Cym-Robot was and that it was not a servant of the crew. Rather, Zhem was a living sophont of the silicon kind.

That night, the crew fought against sea sickness. For Qithka the ship would not stop rocking. She lacked what the locals called "sea legs".

With his internal gyros and artificial horizon indicators, Zhem to Qithka made swaying to the watercraft on the waves look second nature. It was the Vilani who had the tough time of keeping down her octopus. Originating from an Asteroid World such as Starn did not teach the ex-Merchant Shaa how to acclimate to the constant motion of the ocean.

The next Day in the supercarrier markets yielded only Unprocessed Variable Tattoos an anomaly on a Tech 5 world. Qithka noted that the patterns offered changed hues as they faded rather than shape of the image. Each ton of the pigments and sea navy image patterns ran Sb4500. With only 20 tons of cargo hold space emptied of the Recordings, Sb90,000 was not too much to pay using the hard cash the crew had earned the previous Day.

Crowds of shipVargr gathered to watch as Hew, Qithka and Zhem worked as a team to load cubes of the Unprocessed Variable Tattoos-5. They were amazed at the sophont status of the Brown Bear and the Metal Vargr. Word had spread from the Marines through the supercarrier.

Her nose told Qithka that there would be a mess to clean up. Partial flooding damage into the three Consoles aboard the Safari Ship took three watches, an entire Day to diagnose. Though they were still operable, Hew had to spend a third Day pumping out standing water, drying the Consoles and compartments, and blow drying the electronics inside. The repairs ate two Days on Aethkaek for a totals of four Days on the ocean surface. By then, Shaa was on a liquid diet from sea sickness.

The Chirurgeon General of the supercarrier arrived with a subordinate team of doctors at the pier. They offered the seasick stricken crew with woven bracelets with beads at intervals about a larger bead. When worn at the wrists with the beads gently touching the wrist tendons, psychosomatics took over. Shaa was warded from seasickness within hours.

Zhem thanked the physicians and made a note of the design in the Med Console and Clinic. The bracelets could make good gifts to bring to the next Water world.

 

[The Pakkrat]

In due time, Qithka had the Drives online for a watery takeoff. Hew accidentally put the portside wing back into the water as the ship pulled away aft of the supercarrier. The spray from wing sloshed the forward view ports. In seconds of Fast Boost to Orbit, all ocean water was blown off the hull. In twelve minutes, the Ursa at the helm had attained Orbit.

Under eight hours of outbound flight empty of other traffic, Qithka had the pathing laid in and awaiting AI confirmation of the Astrogation. Though the Bridge and Engineering had been cleaned, the Commons reeked of seawater. Only the hard chairs in the dining area were saved. It would take Days of sun drying or hours of blow drying to rid the musty damp scents from the Commons.

Poor Capt. Shaa Gankinra had to be helped off the Bridge and to the Med Console. Zhem took vitals and diagnosed the Vilani woman with a fungal infection requiring medical off-duty and bed rest. Zhem watched the Human for 36 hours as Qithka and Hew took command. Shaa was forced to stay in bed and was only allowed to interject through her Portable Controller. Medic's orders.

"Is she going to be alright?" asked Qithka to Zhem.

"She's Out of Action until her systems recover," reported the Ship's Medic Zhem. "I've given her a string of antifungals, an IV flush, and two Panaceas to cleanse the infection. She will recover by the end of tomorrow by all projections."

Shaa had not come forth from the Captain's Cabin by the time Qithka received confirmation from the Panas AI. Conferring with both Hew and Zhem, it was Zhem who took charismatic initiative above Qithka to give the order to jump to Vaersngurr (Gvurrdon 1830), a name Qithka had supplied to the starchart she had notated and given to Shaa.

The Panas Gankinra flashed from Aethkaek's universe, taking a piece of reality with it. Qithka noted the flat 168 hours out back and took up prayer to Gevaudan's ascendant hero Runetha Saetedz that Shaa Gankinra would pull through.

Twelve hours after jump, Capt. Gankinra emerged from her Cabin. Though Zhem knew she was free to return to ship duty and command, Qithka in the Galley heard Hew seated at the table say, "Warrens! Captain, you look like hammered Groat patties."

"Thanks," nodded the weary Shaa. "I feel like a pharmacy too." The Vilani turned down anything that was seafood for the rest of the time out back.

"That was too close for comfort, Captain," warned Hew. "How's about this collar now? And how much am I paid per month?" Straight to ship's business was the Ursa. Qithka served breakfast though the Vilani avoided meat and took water that meal.

Utilizing the ship's Comms, Shaa Gankinra input the string of Anglic alphanumeric digits needed, a combination, to unlock Hew Hollowton from his prisoner's collar. The heavy metal collar registered the signal with a tiny beep and then opened. The Bear threw down the device to the deck and scratched his neck all over. "Doc! My neck again-..."

While Qithka worked to dry out the Commons from the floodwaters, Zhem and the Ursa had chiropractic and Counselling in the Medical compartment behind closed doors. She did not eavesdrop since the blow dryer was so loud.

Gone was the water dampness, but the smell would take atmosphere filtration and some furniture fresheners. Qithka knew from memory that there would be other Water worlds along the route. The Dame Qithka and her Pattern mother Qithka01 had taken more than a few routes through Gvurrdon Sector before the end of the Collapse and start of the Interregnum.

With no Passengers to entertain, a Captain who only wanted to be seated when not at the dinner table, and a Bear being Counselled, Qithka defaulted to more Dancer lessons from the Panas AI, with or without her metal folding fans.

As if it were some bleak and untouchable memorial, Hew's collar stayed on the deck where it had landed. No one came near it or pushed it out of the way. The heavy thing remained where it landed and became part of the interior decor.

The mood for Fifth Night was not as festive without Passengers. Rather, Shaa came to pay each crew their salaries. Cr500 for Zhem as Medic-Counsellor-Gunner was distributed first along with thanks for saving her from a wasting death. Cr1000 for Qithka as the Astrogator-Chief Engineer-Steward doubled Zhem's pay though the Vargriform was unfazed by being paid. Finally, the Vilani paid Hew Hollowton Cr600 for his service as the Pilot-Mechanic, though there was no true listing for Damage Control aboard a starship. Shaa explained this to Hew when he saw how much Qithka was being awarded.

"I'd normally get paid an extra two-hundred for the Security on Mora Naval," said Hew.

"Out here in the Wilds, there are no navies," countered Shaa. "But I will consider an amount for the Security role."

"Besides," offered Qithka, "Republic credits might be worthless out here in the Wilds. Best if we convert to local currency if any at each port of call. But that would take a profit-sharing covenant between Captain, ship and crew. Am I right, Captain?"

"Quite," answered the Vilani deadpan and with half-lidded eyes at the Vargr.

When the others brightened to the agreement, Shaa added, "However, pay for profit sharing is given annually, just before a starship Overhaul by Vilani tradition."

That let the wind out of the crew. Monthly pay it was then. Qithka consoled herself with the fact that she earned a Broker's commission on the side when she was selling speculatives. This made her imagine projections for the current cargo of Unprocessed Variable Tattoos.

In due time, jump rumblings were followed by a textbook breakout. Shaa at SensOps-Astrogation confirmed 110D from the G5 main sequence star. Some small Scatter had occurred with Qithka’s pathing. Scatter meant the ship’s arrival point was off target, but not so much as to miss the world-system entirely.

Qithka changed the Drives to Maneuver from the Jump cooling down. With Space Sensors scanning the world-system she named Vaersngurr, the map began to fill in the Orbits with increasing data. Hew came about to vector for the mainworld in Orbit 3 the Goldilocks orbit also called Habitable Zone 0 or HZ0 for short.

Ahead lay another Water world, a blue sapphire of deep and lighter, shallow blues. Ice caps denoted the poles. No moon. Instead, a Ring of pulverized ice encircled the mainworld like glittering halo. Qithka thought it pretty to see from the surface and from Far Orbital approach. The Ring sat in the bee sub-orbit and was likely visible day or nighttime. As Hew cut a full orbit about Vaersngurr, Shaa took a World Range Sensor survey of the oceans, finding only a stark, active volcano island. The Analyzer/Sniffer confirmed the Atmosphere-9 as Dense and Tainted, thick air to breathe but just poisonous to kill after a few hours of doing so. Filters would be required to step outside the ship.

Qithka continued to monitor from her Portable Controller but continued to call out Engineering boards status as Hew began a final approach to atmospheric reentry. At a Slow approach, the Heat on the armor was negligent and gave time for the planetary survey to complete. In the shallows about the volcano island were spotted watercraft hulls that only the Panas AI could count. A civilization had once floated on the surface. Underwater domes in the photic zone were shattered and flooded. The junkyard in Near Orbit of defunct and offline artificial satellites were further tell-tales of the Collapse.

 

[The Pakkrat]

Yet, through all the graveyard of apocalyptic loss, Shaa Gankinra found the Downport nav-beacon on the island. At Tech 10, the signal was strong and confirmed what Qithka already new of its name, Vaersngurr. Whatever locals were on that island had not changed the name of the mainworld and thus world-system.

With no traffic in the skies or space about the mainworld Vaersngurr, a Gvegh Vargr answered Shaa’s hail in the Gvegh language. Strings of more data filled the map as the Vilani Captain traded ship Mission string and a statement of trade intent to the Downport B, a blessing.

Vaersngurr after the Interregnum, as reported by the Comms Officer in the Tower below, had been rediscovered by another world four parsecs distant, (and off Qithka’s route home). Vaersngurr became a re-Captured Colony when they arrived to plant a Vargr flag to fly once more. The Downport A already present on the island had lain fallow and degraded over centuries to an offline B rating. With the installation of 3000 Vargr reactivating the facility, Vaersngurr became a valuable trove of starship relics and capability in Ksits Usathu Odzuetarug Subsector. That was right. The Panas Gankinra had just broken out of Uthe Subsector and into Qithka’s remembered map. More memories.

Tech Level 10 Downport B meant services refitting up to Jump-2 starships. With no traffic in the skies or on the ground, the Panas Gankinra was granted approach window and the nicest berth on the deck. On final glide path to the landing field, the crew beheld the erupting volcano shooting pyroclastic ejecta miles into the sky and venting poisonous gases to be caught on the westerly wind. The atmospheric mix was made further Dense with the addition of sulfur compounds poisonous. Zhem would suffer none of it while Shaa and Qithka were to don their Combination-A masks and seek to purchase a suitable version that would fit Hew the Ursa.

Taking twice as long by keeping the Lifting Body of the wide Safari Ship perpendicular to the prevailing winds, Hew placed the Panas Gankinra on the tarmac laced with rivulets of uncleared, cooled lava flows of the past. Not enough crew to scrape igneous flows off the grounds, not when an eruption could litter the island with more lava and falling bombs of rapidly cooling ejecta.

The Tower confirmed that an estimated 500 million former Vargr of Vaersngurr had suffered Die Back, the Trade Classification that meant total loss of Population to death or exodus from the world-system. With a poisonous atmosphere, underwater dome breaches, Virus, or the Mind Tsumami madness, Qithka could imagine the loss of Vargr over the various catastrophes.

One good thing Qithka could see in coming to this mainworld of reconstituted Tech 10, was that they could purchase a starchart filled with known worlds within the Owning world’s jump range. She hoped that they had data on her route home to Dzuerongvoe. Even if they did not, buying data on Ksits Usathu Odzuetarug or simply ‘Ksits’ would be a buffer against the unknown here in the Wilds, a Wilds that in the Dame’s era was not so Wild.

Refined fuel supplied from the purified waters of the oceans was for sale. Captain Gankinra ordered such over her exchange with the Tower, to go with Berthing. Since the Population was so small, the only Freight contracts were between Vaersngurr and its Owner, a world they named Gaekloungoerzaghun. Qithka remembered this world. Her Pattern mother remembered it had a significant Human population. Perhaps the stabilizing Humaniti as well as the NILs called the Ungrest would have helped the Vargr in preserving civilization four parsecs distant.

Met by a local Downport Warden and his Security team, armed Security team, Qithka used her best remembered training in Diplomat to make re-contact for the Panas Gankinra. As a Vargr, she was the only sophont the Aloof Vargr would converse. With such a tenuous hold on Vaersngurr, world Acceptance must be low. Though no Law Level regulations had been broken yet, the locals were armed for-…for Bear which they got to see once Hew made an online purchase of a Combination-A of the largest adjustable size to be delivered by the Warden and his team.

Pleasantries of polite and charismatic nature had Qithka on the ropes. She was required to sign for Cr6000 Berthing and top prices for the refined fuel and the Combination-A.

It was upon seeing Zhem the Vargriform that Security team came to alert. Hundreds of years had past since the last Strain had been eradicated from Gaekloungoerzaghun and its Colony, eradicated but not forgotten. Qithka had her work cut out for her in explaining the sane Cym that was their Ship’s Medic. Satisfied that Dr. Zhem was not going to infect this world outpost or turn everyone into Vargr Brood, cyborgs at the least and mindless Servitor amalgamation of enslaved flesh, fur and metal at the far worst end. Through all this, Qithka was allowed to sign for permission to conduct online trading though the crew was still limited to the Downport.

 

[The Pakkrat]

“…and keep your Robot disconnected,” ordered the Warden sternly.

“Yessir,” nodded Qithka trounced in the Warden’s Vargr Charisma. Though she had risen a little in self-esteem, Qithka was still a long way off from the Dame she remembered.

Granted only a walkabout on the Downport grounds and into the Terminal, the crew toured the reactivated facilities. Though meant to serve the needs of hundreds of millions, the place looked dead as a graveyard with only 3000 Vargr for staff.

Try as she might, Qithka could not find a buyer for the Unprocessed Variable Tattoos until the locals calmed their Aloofness somewhat. The next Day, she landed an offer somehow encouraged by the arrival of a Gaekloungoerzaghun-flag Farrou-class Vargr Trader also landing on the island. Even now in 1902, civilization in the Wilds was still parse and haphazard. The old Trader was patchwork and plated in mismatched paint schemes that made even the Vargr visual palette cringe.

The Unprocessed Variable Tattoos sold at only 120%, mainly due the low population and that Vargr did not partake in tattoos though the idea of pelt painting in pleasant patterns that changed colored as they faded were a novelty to the locals. This was another reason the Aloofness relaxed a bit to the crew of the Panas Gankinra. Paid in Gaekloungoerzaghun denominations and given some new permissions to enter the empty Startown, the crew settled on the only mess hall that tripled as the town hall, tavern, and restaurant for the 3000 population. The settlers lived in a recaptured hotel that had been refurbished and dedicated as habitats.

Qithka trudged back to the Safari Ship with Zhem in tow. Shaa Gankinra also arrived as Qithka entered the airlock.

"What did you find in the market?" asked Shaa.

"Dense School Fauna, or simply termed Fish," admitted Qithka who knew it would turn Shaa's stomach after the last world. "You?"

"Medical-grade Breathable Oxygen, perfect for a Mishap aboard our ship," said the Vilani woman shaking her head in denial. Neither discovery looked valuable even if at Tech 10. The recolonized Downport on a volcanic island, the only land on the planet, simply did not have a market. It was more a crossroads outpost.

Qithka worked the airlock as the crew entered. The Dense and Tainted atmosphere did not need to sicken anyone after the Captain's recovery. It was Zhem's turn in the Galley, so the two females conferred privately in Engineering where they knew Hew had no skill and no business.

"What do you remember of our next world on the route?" asked Shaa quietly.

Qithka had to search back, through her two previous lives. "Ankhir was an Amber Zone back in the Dame's life."

"Environmental?" asked Shaa.

"No, it was their Government and Law that caused the Worlds of Leader Rukh to push it to one of their borders. A military leader and his next-in-rank succession of Army held the Downport forever and without legislation, enforced a stifling Law Level. Rukh simply tagged it Amber and let the riots begin. When Rukh fell to the Mind Tsunami, it was a madhouse until those that were left picked up the discarded weapons and returned to military rule."

"How did they do after the Collapse?" asked Shaa now that she had a living history book in Qithka before her.

"When Rukh imploded, not much was heard of Ankhir though the Amber Zone was still in place even into the Vargr Splinters years. By 1248, Ankhir still had not reached space on its own. Shaa, if they're still there and under intense Law and under military control we may want to target a Gas Giant and bypass the mainworld. Safer."

"The job says we have to at least orbit each mainworld in each world-system. If what you say is true, aim for the closest Giant to the mainworld that you can. I'll go buy a starchart from the locals here. We can compare what they know to what you remember and marked on our starchart."

"Yes, ma'am," nodded Qithka.

Qithka grabbed a Vargr sleep and was awake again by the time Shaa Gankinra returned with Zhem to the ship. In her hands, Shaa held a laminated, foldable map of rimward Ksits Usathu Odzuetarug. Gaekloungoerzaghun that Owned Vaersngurr seemed to have reach even here in 1902. It was able to name the subsector, the worlds, their data and name the adjacent subsectors. Though no useful routes or trade data were present on this starchart, Gaekloungoerzaghun was obviously in preparation of drawing new borders here in Gvurrdon if this outpost was any indication.

"I'm for bed," reported the Captain. "You run the comparisons to our two charts. See you in the morning for lift."

Qithka spent the overnight watch as Hew continued to sleep and Shaa turned in for the night. Zhem stood nearby as Qithka compared her starchart with the purchased Gaekloungoerzaghun chart. The proto-pocket empire had reached out to Ankhir. Qithka read their findings.

While Ankhir had been a Highport and Downport C in her Pattern mother's day, something had happened to upgrade only the Downport to B. The Gaekloungoerzaghun starchart reported that the orbital Highport was a dark derelict, a graveyard. Qithka assumed that it was the Mind Tsunami and that Ankhir never rose from the planet surface to conduct repairs. This was reinforced by the new rating of Tech 5 measured by Gaekloungoerzaghun. Ankhir sat in the Goldilocks Zone of Orbit 2 about the smaller, dimmer K9V stellar primary, an orangish star, cooler than the G stars of the past two worlds.

The smaller Size of 6, still at breathable Dense atmosphere, and 60% Hydrosphere kept Ankhir easily rated as a Garden World. The High Population Qithka remembered had dwindled from Population 9 to only 50,000,000. Something or somethings had happened. Was there war? Did the Quarantine Line finally fall upon a Tech 7 world, Virus constrained to minimize itself to bring down computer and communications networks? Had the Highport been offlined by the same, to say nothing about what the Mind Tsunami did to it?

Gaekloungoerzaghun had removed the Amber Zone label. Ankhir lost many Gvegh Vargr, two Tech Levels, and-...

...Qithka noted the change in Government to an Impersonal Bureaucracy 9 with a serious drop in Law Level to Moderate at 5. She could carry her Lesler-Khalan .50 Accelerator Pistol there.

Did Ankhir pick up the pieces after falling back to an Industrial Age tech and install a group of agencies toward recovery? To get everyone left to cooperate across continents, seas, islands, and down to the Pack level, Ankhir must have lowered the stringent Law Level now that so many had died over the centuries. It must have been a depressingly slow burn down.

Yet, the loss of so many Vargr to the calamities showed Qithka new hope for the freed Ankhirans. The Garden world had taken up an awarded Agricultural world rating and was again producing Rich world output despite the barely positive Efficiency for a Tech 5 mainworld. They knew interstellar Vargr were out there. Ankhir just could not get a break to reach their own world-system.

Ankhir use of Gvegh language was slipping, reported the Gaekloungoerzaghun starchart. While they remained average in worlds at that Tech Level, Qithka could expect trouble reading media while on Ankhir. But was it worth landing? That was the dilemma that Capt. Gankinra had assigned Qithka.

After hours of pouring over the two starcharts, Qithka resolved that yes, it was worth landing at the Downport B on Ankhir. If Aengvoung was what she remembered, taking speculatives from a freer Ankhir there would pay dividends, aside Shaa's personal mission of survey. Ankhir had gained freedom from its Amber Zone oppression and by its Acceptance was willing to be visited.

Regardless of Shaa's mission or the opportunities to score Garden world speculatives, Qithka committed herself to pathing for the Large Gas Giant in Orbit 4 from Ankhir in Orbit 2. It would be a commute, but without Passengers...

 

[The Pakkrat]

* * *

In the middle of the night and during Qithka’s graveyard watch, Zhem took upon himself to return to the Terminal. With the arrival of the Gekloungoerzaghun-flag Vargr Trader, the one with the reptilian shell heraldry, Zhem knew that products might be aboard it. The Cym exercised quiet walking as he moved through the sleepy Downport. The Cargo Markets were still haggling over the arriving speculatives delivered from Gekloungoerzaghun.

With only Cr500 to his chassis, Zhem found a technology outlet, the only one operated in this population of 3000 Vargr colonists. He purchased an imported, Modified Comm-10 device on a whim, deciding that communication with the Panas Gankinra was a desired capability. In his Move to this chassis, the Cym had wanted to approximate biological Vargr and so had shirked Body Additions such as internal communications. That and by law, the Cym was forbidden direct comms connection to systems, networks, components and other devices in case his Logos decided to Move again. The Modified Comm-10 allowed him to use his voice to communicate with the ship out to 1000 kilometers. Easy to intuit its functions, Zhem decided to suggest crew Comm devices for Qithka, Shaa and Hew. Communication was key.

Zhem was still fiddling with the new ModComm-10 as he trudged back to the Safari Ship.

Was it his download training in Medic or Counselling that Zhem visually and olfactory detected a female Gvegh Vargr Security Guard Lieutenant exuding male-hunting pheromones, displaying paralanguage that was described as flirtatious, and had mammaries the size of-…? She and her team of five, all-female Security Guards stopped Zhem for a weapons check. The Downport Guards were on the same graveyard shift as Qithka back at the Panas Gankinra. Zhem complied with the search by stripping off his leather duster Coat-2, took off his wide brim hat, and slid off his Otto T-shirt. All he had left on his reflective plating chassis was his pleated and pocketed kilt and his belt of belt pouches containing his Data Wafers.

“And the armor, visitor,” said the Lieutenant whose personal armor was labeled Lt. Narou. Her tail wagged in an emotion Zhem could not identify.

“This is not personal armor, Lieutenant,” answered Zhem. “I am a compressed Cym in a Robot chassis, a sophont by Republic of Regina law-.”

“A Robot?!” Oh dear. The Guards came on alert with the bark of their commanding officer. Vargr Charisma came out like weapons from holsters. Zhem had to compute fast. He knew that in order to assert one’s Charisma in the face of others’, Zhem had to match his Robot Charisma to theirs. Drawing himself up to full stance and towering over the Guards he widened his arms a little and stopped his Limb Group 5, his tail from wagging.

Seeing Zhem assume his charismatic stance, Vargr teeth bared in anger to being challenged by a Robot chassis with Charisma. Zhem answered in kind with his own metallic teeth. Claws on all sides were bared, the retractable claws sliding into place for Zhem. So long as actual weapons were not drawn, this was a face-off only. Zhem had broken no laws, but Charisma was not part of that kind of law.

There were growls from the ladies. Zhem attempted his own in a deeper, male reverberating timber. When the zenith of the standoff peaked, the Lieutenant backed off. Zhem knew that under Burst Mode he could out-melee every one of the Guards and their Leader. His Medical analysis of each Vargr Guard and his Counsellor diagnosis had pegged the ladies on edge from a boring night. Did they mistake him for a virulent, male Vargr in Oversized Battle Dress? This was becoming a pattern and Zhem logged it as such.

But eventually, the Lieutenant’s ire melted when she saw her Charisma outmatched by Zhem’s, but only by a little. “Pick up your clothes and be on your way, Robot.”

“Dr. Zhem of the Panas Gankinra, Lieutenant Narou,” corrected Zhem. “Afford the next Cym you encounter with some improved respect. Good Travellers obey laws of the worlds they visit. Worlds should be more welcoming.”

“Be off!” barked Lt. Narou.

Purposely taking his time dressing his chassis again, Zhem held his hat in one claw before trudging back to Gate 1 to the Safari Ship. The Security Guards followed him all the way to the Gate but at a charismatic distance. Internally, Zhem noted and logged a distance:

Distance to follow a suspect = 12 meters minus commander’s Charisma, plus target’s Charisma​

The lusty ladies kept a respectful 13 meters behind the tall Cym as he carried his hat into the airlock.

Zhem was secretly glad for the opportunity to live-fire his Charisma routines, but also happy that he did not have to battle the Vargr Guards and cause an incident. Vargr-Cym relations were some of the most difficult pairs to forge positive responses. The Charisma routines had saved him from trouncing biologicals and ruining Cym image. The encounter was recorded, notated, and logged with the addition of 56% Pathos labeled as self-esteem.

“There are online feedback forms for you to fill out if this was a negative experience, Zhem,” offered Qithka when Zhem shared his Comm purchase story.

“This was not a negative experience,” countered Zhem. “I was able to experience something new and exciting in my Vargriform.”

“If you ask me,” volleyed Qithka, “those Guards were rude to strip search you like that.”

“What is to see beyond my internal myelofibrins, structure and components?”

Qithka shrugged as she finished laying out a breakfast spread for Shaa and Hew.

During breakfast, Zhem watched and displayed his purchase of the Modified Comm-10 device. Syncing it with the Ship’s Computer, Zhem convinced the others that they too should carry their own, though Hew might do better with a Ruggedized version at the same Tech Level.

“That must have been your first purchase as a Vargriform,” guessed Hew who was packing away a majority of the breakfast spread.

“My first purchase in this chassis were these clothes,” said Zhem omitting the fact that he had also prepaid for Qithka’s clothing choices without knowing what she would select. She had already lectured him about such on Pandrin.

Hew shrugged at the inaccuracy and added, “It was in your tail wag. You’re happy.”

Zhem inwardly marveled that the Ursa could somewhat read Vargr paralanguage. It meant that Zhem was improving his tail wag. He ended up beaming at the assessment.

With a Pathos of 66% labeled contentment an uptick from his experience and the compliment given underhandedly by the Ursa, Zhem washed the tableware which spurred the crew faster into Starship Operations in departing Vaersgnurr.

Zhem toured each of the compartments, checking on the crew working and generally watching them work. Pre-flight Checks went faster than his first cycle through Vilani, Ursa, Vargr. Capt. Gankinra had to hold up an index finger to delay Zhem as she signaled the Downport Tower and requested lift window. Qithka arrived to path the jump to an Ankhir Gas Giant once the Captain was through making Sensors data available to the Hew at the helm. The Bear swished his claw to shoo away the Cym so he could concentrate before slapping his claws back around the helm control grips. Zhem followed Shaa back to Engineering when she traded positions to watch the aft boards. Without Passengers, Zhem was left to observe without much to do as a Medic-Steward-Gunner.

Zhem was present on the Bridge when Qithka finished her pathing two hours before jump point with the ship at three gees. He had watched her input the final desired breakout point at the closest Gas Giant of three to the mainworld Ankhir. The Vargr Relict Clone stood up and addressed the Cym observing her.

“There was once a chef on Dhaengae (Gvurrdon 1539) who made pretty images out of small, colored filets of fish arrayed so that the plate when viewed above displayed an enjoyable picture. As the head Steward, Zhem, why don’t you give that a try? And no fast-forward learning or speed cooking. Do your practice like a biological sophont. Then show us your handiwork at First Meal.”

Zhem’s Pathos jumped to 80% labeled inspiration. He wagged his tail in a swishing, whiplike motion. Zhem rushed from the Bridge to run a search on Qithka’s idea. It kept the Cym busy as he perused images of sliced fish placed just so.

 

[The Pakkrat]

* * *

The crew of the Panas Gankinra spent 21 hours parked at the jump point as the onboard AI confirmed Qithka’s pathing to Ankhir (Gvurrdon 1728). With air fresheners scavenged from the Passenger cabins placed about the Commons, Qithka’s nose was able to ignore the lingering, musty odor and suffer Mountain Pines & Orange instead. The pine she liked. The orange-…well it brought back painful memories during the Dame’s life.

Gevaudan’s HEV is orange. His eyes are ocean blue. Qithka dreamed more memories. Zhevra stood in the Dame’s office in the Cannagrrh Villa talking to the Dame. But this time, there was a tall, female Human woman arrayed in black finery standing imperiously in the corner. In one hand the Empress in Black held a fine black staff. Clutched in her other hand, the Empress held the Dame’s old friend Uthka Varzeekh, the precognitive seer Psion who could foresee things to come. Uthka was the Empress’ prisoner held in a possessive clutch of the woman’s hand at her robe, near her neck ruff.

Qithka woke and rose to wash off the dream in the Common Fresher. With only three crew using a Fresher meant for ten, there was plenty of locker room for toiletries as Qithka showered more than her share of hot water. What had the Mind Tsunami done to her friend Uthka? The old seer never spoke of the supposed hallucination many Psions reported or kept private, those that lived through the maddening energies propagating rimward.

In the mirror as she brushed her face, head, neck ruff and the rest of her white pelt, Qithka stopped brushing at the hated double rings of black hair on her tail. She needed to pause and stop fretting over the past and stop worrying about the future. Her Pattern mother Qithka01 had come to this conclusion too in her time. Travellers lived in the now, enjoying where they were. Qithka then decided that she needed some planetside diversion, some fun. Ankhir, if it was as described might be the ticket.

Qithka’s turn in the Galley developed into serving trays of digit foods, small meaty sandwiches, toothpick-speared cooked meats with vegetables, and travel mugs full of leftover Flavored Drinks with sippy straws for Vargr and Ursa and a normal straw for the Vilani who entered and dared to eat solid food once more.

“Try the crunchy gherkins,” suggested Qithka to Shaa Gankinra. “The vinegar will ease the tummy into digestion.” Shaa looked with disbelief on her face, but since pickling counted as food preparation, she added one of the small warty pickles in her caution.

Hew Hollowton sat down on the floor with a voracious appetite. After Qithka and Shaa ate their share, the Ursa cleaned the table in devouring all that was left. Qithka was privately happy that the Ursa was showing better vigor now that he was a free yet exiled Bear. Not having to dispose of any leftovers was a bonus. Hew washed up while Qithka reported to Engineering to prepare for jump.

“There might be some Scatter,” reported the Panas AI in response to Qithka’s curiosity over her pathing. “But since we have both a star and a Gas Giant in our path, we should not wander too far.” Qithka nodded though she thought her calculations were spot on. Ankhir had three Gas Giants. To Scatter could put the Safari Ship technically anywhere in the system. But one star and three Gas Giants could easily catch the Panas Gankinra.

The Captain gave her approval. And on Shaa’s order, Qithka initiated jump. Fuel emptied quickly as the Jump Grid lit up and snatched a bit of reality to take with the ship as a souvenir for a week.

After standing down Engineering for the estimated 172 hours out back, Qithka retreated to her Cabin. She wanted to continue her lessons in Dancer.

 

[The Pakkrat]

What happens when perfect sanity meets absolute bedlam?

What is clarity when matched against roiling limbo?

Is this pandemonium a gas, a liquid, or a solid?

Shapes come and go imagined or seen making little difference.

The moment stretches on heedless of time, ignorant of space.

Is it a demon's eye or an oculus of an Ancient?

So beautiful.

So terrible.

Viewed alone, the gray field parts to reveal the swirling quicksilver.

Shared, it does not know itself or its preferred form.

Is it the blood of the Ancients flowing outside, or the bile of protesting reality?

Ever changing.

"Change is what the Vargr do best."

Look away and forever lose this moment, its novelty, its uniqueness to the rotting bowels of experience and fading memory.

Desire it, fear it, contemplate it, and be captivated by it.

Gevaudan's HEV is orange.

His eyes are ocean blue.

"For such a feat of teleportation, it would take a tremendous amount of psionic energy."

Not the Wave, not the Mind Tsunami.

"No again, Qithka!" exclaimed Uthka rapping her Asclepius Rod-cane on the marble floor.

Kaer had seen it. Uthka too.

Those fool fanatic priests sitting in the airlock and staring at it aboard the Ares had purposely exposed their minds to it.

The mercury and the sparkles it makes.

Gentleman Jeff Scardack of Flammarion had purposely looked when the crystal struck the Jump Bubble and shattered.

The way we learned to jump past the Wave.

"When you gaze into the Abyss..."

"Qithka?"

"Was that T-space?"

"Qithka? Can I come in?"

"Not what I call it, but yes."

"Qithka! Ancestors! Get the viewport!"

"I am a sophont, I am a Regency citizen, I am a Psion. I am a person to be trusted..."

"No no no, honey look away!"

...i think i may be psionic...

"Get her to the Med Console!"

The Dame would never approve. Dam wouldn't either. Too late now.

"...the Abyss also gazes into you."

"She's convulsing! Strap her down! Hold her!"

Alarms, kinda like the early breakout aboard the Ares. Gev ran around screaming...

"She's crashing!"

"Dosing with Fast..."

Zhevra typed on the laptop, where does one go when cut off from mind and body?

…

….

…..

….

…

What is your favorite color, Qithka?

Lavender, they call it in Anglic.

Lavender it is then.

What is your favorite sound, Qithka?

Waves crashing on the beach.

Good.

What is your favorite touch?

Mmm, my dam’s white pelt.

We may be able to help that.

What is your favorite taste?

Mmm, barbecue on steak.

That too is doable.

What is your favorite smell, Qithka?

Like Twenty Questions but gentler. Frankincense, I think.

Well, we’ll see.

…

Qithka, are you ready?

I think so?

You thinking. That is a good sign.

Qithka thought she was dreaming. It felt like a dream. Sight, hearing, the glow of life forms all about. People moving about, wearing comfortable woven ponchos. There was a male Vargr sitting beside Qithka’s supine position. She lay in some narrow bed, either another hospital bed, a casket or…or a Low Berth cryo-sleep bed.

Do you want to wake up?

It’s a nice dream.

Just the suggestion of waking up and moving her body after a dream like this was enough to begin thinking about it. And in thinking, Qithka began welcoming sensory input. A jolt of movement, likened to a fall of only a short distance. Then aches and lethargy set in as nerves came awake with a firestorm of synapses.

Oof! I’m sore.

That will pass. How do you feel in your heart?

Dreamy.

Want to open your eyes, Qithka? Maybe hear? It is a beautiful day here on the beach.